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Harry Potter - The Final Nail

Harry Potter - The Final Nail



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Published by taekidokai20057669

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Published by: taekidokai20057669 on Mar 10, 2009
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 My name is Harry James Potter. If you ask the vast majority of the Wizarding world, they’ll tack a few titles onto the end of the name. Like; ‘The Boy-Who-Lived’, ‘The Chosen One’, and myleast favourite, ‘The World’s Most Eligible Bachelor’. Allow me to tell you a little more about mylife.
 I was born in 1980 to two loving parents, James and Lily Potter. From all accounts, they were alovely couple. Shortly after they died, I was sent to live with my maternal aunt and her husband.They were
a lovely couple.
When I turned 11, I received a letter to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...the finest school of magical learning in the world. So, I went. While I was there, I met a coupleof people who became my best friends; Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Hermione Jane Granger.
Why am I telling you this? Well, it’s sorta... important. You see, as we were growing uptogether, we started to develop feelings for each other. We were a Trio of friends in the normal  sense, but, as hormones started to kick in, we were seeing the signs of a slightly different kind of Trio.
 Let me give you a bit of background on the Wizarding world. Polygamous relationships aremore common than in the Muggle world. At least, they used to be. These days, they’re not that common, but don’t quite carry the stigma the Muggles would bestow. However, if a Trio were tobe announced, there would be a certain amount of scandal involved, especially considering it would be the last scion of an Ancient and Noble house, a half-blood, a pureblood form a very old  family, and a Muggleborn witch.
 So, that’s the history of our situation.
 Now, let me tell you a little about my friends.
 Ronald Weasley. He’s a good guy. He provides comic relief whenever we’re off on our ‘adventures’. Aside from one little blip during out fourth year, he’s been by my side since I met him. He’s loyal, adventurous, and a perfect counterpoint to my other best friend. He’s a tall guy,and quite thin. Not skinny thin, but... lanky. Due to years of Quidditch, he’s got quite a few muscles to him. All in all, he’s a pleasing package. Except for his jealousy, and he’s gotten a lot better over the last couple of years. Apart from that, he’s my best mate.
 Hermione Granger. Man, this woman makes my blood boil in my veins. She’s beautiful,brave, intelligent... the perfect woman. One thing I love about Hermione is that she can takecharge of a situation. Give her a few facts, and she’s off. One thing that annoys the living crapout of me is her constant need to be in charge of a situation. Apart from that, I love her to pieces.
 However, things changed, came to a head. I was betrayed. This is our story.
 And So, It Begins...
The downward spiral was pretty much completed during the train ride home, after the end of our sixth year. Ron, Hermione and I made our way to an empty compartment, intent on enjoying the ride home, before we split for the summer; me, to Durzkaban, Ron back to the Burrow, and  Hermione heading to Guildford to spend most of the summer with her parents, before we all met up at the Burrow for the last few weeks.
That was our plan, anyway.
was planning on enjoying the train ride, but the events of Valentine’s kept coming back to haunt me. I knew then, that the trio had pretty much collapsed. Hell, that’s a nice thing to call it. If I’m honest, it never truly began. But, I’ll get to that later.
 As always, the Hogwarts Express pulled out of Hogsmeade station at exactly eleven o’clock.Harry had been waiting on the platform, for just under an hour, for Ron and Hermione to turn up.When they did finally stumble out of the carriage, sporting that ‘just-shagged’ look, he knew whythey were late. As usual, he had to stamp down a hint of jealousy and annoyance.Without saying a word, he grabbed his trunk, and hauled the thing onto the train, finding anempty compartment near the end of the last carriage.For three hours, he watched Hermione and Ron kissing each other, their hands sneaking under clothing before a breathy moan would answer. What did he get? Nothing. Not even a glance. With aquiet sigh, he stood up, determined to go and find somewhere else to sit.He peered into compartment after compartment, seeing various couples in... controversial positions. He finally found an empty compartment, halfway up the train.Harry fluffed up his jacket as a makeshift pillow, and started to doze off. His dreams, that ayear ago would have been full of passion and desire, were now filled with regret and angst. Suchwas the fate of the saviour of the Wizarding world. When the train arrived at Kings Cross, Harry awoke with a start. He realised that the train hadarrived, and dashed back to his compartment, intent on grabbing his trunk, and saying goodbye toRon and Hermione.When he arrived at the compartment, he found it empty, just his trunk in the overhead rack,with a note pinned to it. With a sinking feeling in his heart, he pulled the note off.
 Dear Harry,Me and Hermione are off to the Burrow. We didn’t see you as we were getting off the train, so we’ll  see you when you get to the Burrow in a couple of weeks.Take care of yourself, mate. Ron.
Harry laughed to himself, a bitter, pain-filled laugh. They hadn’t even had the common decencyto say goodbye to him.
 And what the hell does it mean ‘me and Hermione are off to the Burrow’? I thought Hermione was going to meet her parents?
With a strangled sob, he pulled his spiralling emotions under control through a ruthless use of Occlumency, before grabbing his heavy trunk. Vernon Dursley, a man that was so large Sir Edmund Hillary would have been nursing woodand reaching for his crampons, was waiting on the other side of the barrier for him. His face turning puce as he saw his nephew, he threw a thumb over his shoulder, silently commanding Harry to draghis heavy trunk out to the car park.With another muffled sigh, Harry hiked the trunk onto his back, and followed his corpulentuncle out of the train station. The ride home was as pleasant as ever, i.e. not at all. Vernon didn’t say a word to himthroughout the whole trip, preferring to swear at other drivers during the half-hour ride back toLittle Whinging.When they got there, Vernon dashed into the house, well, as much as a fat man can dash,leaving Harry to mangle the trunk and his owl cage into the house. Harry managed to get all hisitems into the tiny bedroom, before Petunia rushed up the stairs, locking the door quickly, leavingHarry alone. 
 Ha! Alone. I’ve been alone throughout this whole damned thing... Why do I bother?
This wasone of Harry’s major thoughts: nobody cared. All through his life, he’d never experienced love. Thethought of the Trio relationship, having two people love and support him unconditionally, had bolstered his flagging spirits just after Sirius had died, giving him the boost he needed.Now, though... now, he really wondered. What the hell was happening with them? For a year,he’d been shoved to the side... a year of neglect and indifference. He remembered Dumbledore’swords, about how neglect and indifference can lead to greater pain than torture, and found themtrue. He had been back at Privet Drive for five days. Five days. He hadn’t heard a thing from his‘lovers’ during that time. He’d decided to play a waiting game; he would respond to any letters thatthey sent him, but he wouldn’t initiate anything.At the rate things had been going, he wasn’t exactly going to lose out. However, when Errol,the Weasleys’ decrepit postal owl, turned up, he felt a glimmer of hope. 
This is it...
He thought to himself.
 It’s taken them five days, true, but this is it. They’re going toinvite me over, and we can come out.
That hope was dashed when he opened the letter, not seeing the chicken-scratch of his bestmate, or the impeccably neat handwriting of his best friend, but instead saw the vaguely squashedwriting of Molly Weasley.His heart sinking low into his chest, he read the missive.
 Dear Harry, How is your summer going so far? I hope those Muggles are treating you properly, and making  sure that you are well-fed. Normally, I would be only too happy to invite you to spend your summer at the Burrow, however, Ron and Hermione’s new relationship would be strained if you were to be here with them. I’m sohappy for them! I’ve been suspecting something like this would happen for years, and now that ishas, I’m thrilled! I remember all those vile rumours in the
Daily Prophet
during your fourth year,and I’m happy to see now that they were all false.

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is your name seelvor, because this is his story.
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