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Ginny Potter - A Harry Potter Fanfiction Archive and Community -- Fictioneer
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>> >> I Don't Care by littlelily

Simple Text - To view MORE chapters use the chapter jump box to the right.
I sat bored in the corner of my pathetic excuse of a flat, and leaned back uncomfortably into the corner.
God did my life suck arse. I had no education, no family, no girlfriend, and my friends were better off without me. In fact, right after Ron and Hermione had finally admitted their feelings for each other I had become less of the best friend they always needed, and more of the best friend that was always in the way.
So I had left them without a clue as to where I was, I just knew I would be able to finish Voldemort off without them. But I was wrong. Voldemort won. Or so he thought. I fell behind the veil in the Department of Mysteries, at once he assumed me dead, but I came back, I had remembered soon after, something Dumbledore had told me.
Harry you are made of the same elements as behind the veil.

I had been able to make it back out alive. The problem? I've seen too much. I no longer want to become anything. I no long can become anything. Everything I do reminds me of the horrors I've seen. You think I'm probably being melodramatic. You think I'm just a pathetic moron who sits in his flat and smokes 4 packs of cigarettes a day.
I reach for one now, even as I think about this. I light it quickly, then watch as the small tip of the cigarette seems to glow in the darkened room.
I lean my head back and exhale a plume of smoke.

In a matter of minutes I'm finished, I flick it to somewhere else in the room and resume thinking about how over the past few months I've spent my time in and out of drunken stupors, the bittersweet taste has been branded in my mind and I always crave more.

As I begin thinking about the big things they lead to other crimes I've been committing. For example: Credit Card fraud then moving so that the bills never reach me.
So far I've traveled all over the world, Paris, Germany, United States, Canada . . . I thought maybe if I traveled far enough, everything would be fine, but as always, I was wrong. Things got worse. I could see the shadows creeping up, their black fingers waiting for me to relax so that they could curl their icy fingers around me, then commit the murder Voldemort couldn't.

Truthfully? I don't know why I don't give in. Voldemort has the world. Everyone thinks I'm dead . . . I've even attended my own funeral many people showed up, many people that I've never met.
I saw Ginny there, she and many others cried, but she wasn't the one I have been having strange feelings for over the past two years. It's someone who doesn't let life get her down. She notices the small things in life that everyone ignores. She is kind, and doesn't let anything get her down or stop her from being who she is. She smiles when no one else does . . .
She is none other than Luna Lovegood.
She lost her mother. I lost both my parents. Actually her father died five months ago, so yes once again, I can relate.
I've attended more than one funeral in this God Forsaken war.
I've been to Hagrid's, Sirius', Dumbledore's, Percy's, the list goes on. I really have no desire to go on.

I finally stopped traveling, and just told the credit card company my real name, opened an account, and got a job. As horrible as it is, it's an income.I work at a gas station. It's just down the road from my home. If you can call it that.

I stand up with difficulty. I know I'm sick. Mentally and physically. The truth is, I still don't care.
I cross the room, enter my grimy kitchen and open the fridge. I spot the bottle of whisky that I have yet to open, and pull it out, uncork it, then bring the rim to my mouth.

It's not long before I can feel the buzz. That wonderful light feeling I always can find at the end of a bottle.
I laugh out loud to myself. If I saw myself when I was 16, I would've been disgusted with myself, but once again. I just don't care.

I slip on something making my way back to the corner. I look down.
"Damn letters." I mutter. They were all addressed to me, none of these were bills. They were letters Ron and Hermione had written me before I faced Voldemort. I hadn't opened them, yet had always kept them wherever I went. Pathetic.

I take out a lighter, bend down, soon the letters were nothing but piles of ashes. I was tired of the white parchment, with my name in black ink screaming at me. They were just a reminder of how far I've fallen.

I suddenly go off into a coughing spasm. I cursed my lung cancer. The doctors didn't know anything. I am Harry Potter the boy that always survives, no matter what. They also said I have brain cancer. Like I care?
I don't care about anything. And I even tire of that word. Care.
Before I can dwell on this though, I've begin to vomit, the acrid taste burning over my tongue and sliding over my bottom lip, next thing I know, I've passed out, but it's different this time. The weight on my eyes feel heavier, I smile to myself. I hope I'm dying. Those are my last thoughts before I lose consciousness.

The door to Harry's flat creaked open, and in stepped two girls. One had dirty blonde hair, and mystic blue, grey eyes, flecked with bright green. A pair of glasses perched on her nose, her puffy pink lips didn't smile, but instead grimaced, perhaps it was the smell of stale smoke, or vomit, either way she was not pleased. Her eyes were the key to knowing if she had power at the time or not, her mood or well being.

The other girl had red hair with blonde highlights, her eyes were currently dark and unreadable, but if she had energy, and her powers flowing through her, her eyes shone, changing to electric colors. Like the other girl. Her powers shone when her powers were being used.
Both entered slowly, both wore black, both had their hair back, both lifted Harry Potter, and carried him out of the house to a hospital. Both planned on helping the broken man Harry Potter had become.

AN:/// Grammar is horrible I know, but I was bored. Please review.
I am writing this as a side story so that I am not driven crazy with She's The Man.
I am really moving too slowly with that because the story is really getting complicated, adn i hope That you all can appreciate the scatter brained time of this, adn the fact that it'll also help me get to know the darker side of some characters. Grammar will be better next time I promise!~Littlelily

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