I stand at the top of the mountain, watching Moldyshorts and his army of death munchers as he prepares the charge up.

Coming back from sixteen years in absolute agony as I was kicked out of hogwarts. Sixteen years of pain as I watch every article I read defame me. Sixteen years of anger as the fools that dared calling themselves my friends ran away the first chance they could. Sixteen years of exile, imposed by that old fool.

I let the stray tear fall. More would come, surely.

No one believed that i did not place my damned name into that accursed cup. No one believed that I didn't want the fame. Not even her-granger, who then claimed to be the person most loyal to me. Heck, every last time I put my life on the line was for her! The patronus! The basilisk! The troll! Every time since the troll, I had risked my own life to save her! And she dares to treat me like that?

Now I am just a weapon. No life. No existence. No reason to live. Just a weapon to kill voldemort.

I shouldn't do that.

I am just harry, the boy who wanted to be a wizard. Not the boy-who-lived, not the chosen one. I shouldn't have to do this.

Voldemort has already fought up to the apex of the hill. Now, the armies of the light stand behind me, under the banner of Dumbledore, expecting me to do something.

This infuriating scene finally causes me to snap.

I call a truce with the Dark Wanker and turn to Weasley, Granger and the rest of the light side.

'Sixteen years ago. I was fourteen. You all banished me from Gryfinddor tower. You expelled me from hogwarts. You gave me sixteen years of hell.'

'Sixteen years ago. You defame me. Take my money. Steal my heirlooms. Burn the last link with my parents.'

'Sixteen years ago. You exile me from the magical world. Send me back to that farce of an uncle. None of you care about me anymore.'

'To you, I am just a weapon, a thing created to destroy Voldemort. I have no humanity. I have no life. Right?'

'You gave me sixteen years of hell. Now I will give you sixteen years of my hell.'

I turn to Tom. 'Tom, they're yours to play with. Good luck. Don't touch the Longbottoms, the Weasley Twins, the Lovegoods and the Greengrasses. Also not the Davis family. The rest are yours. Goodbye, Tom.'

With that, I activate my portkey and those whom I named come with me.