(A/N: This is for Hufflepuffluv's World's Best Writer's challenge. Sort of spur of the moment, but what the heck? Might as well. Enjoy!)

For as far back as Harry could remember, his life had been full of hardships. At every turn there was always someone out to get him, and the older he got, the more his enemies multiplied.

First, there had been the Dursley's. Dudley had been Harry's nemesis from the farthest back his memory could possibly allow him to go, save for the flashes of green light and the screams of his mother he could sometimes recall from the night his parents were murdered. Dudley had always been bigger than Harry. Bigger, taller, wider, stronger; Dudley was the exact opposite in structure from tiny, skinny and weak Harry Potter. The majority of Harry's abusive life at number four Privet Drive had been of him dodging Dudley's gigantic fists and dashing out of the house before he could either be caught by Big D and his gang, or be reprimanded by a furious, purple-faced Uncle Vernon. Every day he was at least once punished for something he had never done, or something so obscure that it didn't even make total sense to Vernon himself. Countless times Harry found himself locked in his tiny cupboard with only himself and his imagination to comfort him, bringing his mind elsewhere to escape the horrors that he had to endure at his only living relative's house.

When Hagrid had come and given Harry his invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry had scarcely let himself believe it. Could he really be able to leave the Dursley's every school year and never have to see them again until the summer? Could he finally go and live at a place where he belonged and was accepted? Somewhere where he wouldn't have to be in constant worry that Dudley was going to charge at him, that Vernon wasn't going to lock him in his cupboard for all eternity, that Aunt Petunia wasn't going to throw him out on the streets to fend for himself? It was simply too much to hope for.

But hope he did, and Hogwarts delivered. Harry could scarcely believe his eyes when he caught sight of the gigantic castle for the first time. But it was real. He was a wizard. He was finally at a place where he belonged.

And he did belong…though not exactly the way he wanted. He was famous, and try as he might, he could not simply blend into the crowd like he wished. Even amongst his own kind he was still different. And even here, the place he had hoped he would be free of enemies at last; people were still out to get him.

Draco Malfoy. Harry never thought he'd hate anyone as much as he hated Dudley, but the blond Slytherin somehow managed to rival Harry's massive cousin. Every word the pure blood sneered at Harry made his blood boil. Who was he to think that just because his entire family was wizards that he is better than everyone? Who was he to call Ron a blood traitor and Hermione a Mudblood? It was one thing to insult him. That, Harry could handle. But he would not tolerate anyone insulting his friends. And not only his friends, his first friends ever. Never once had Harry ever had anyone he could call a 'friend'. He was the weird kid. The odd one with the baggy clothes and broken glasses that Dudley and his gang picked on. No one wanted to be around him. But Hermione and Ron didn't see him like that. And not only that, they didn't see him as something to gawk at either. They weren't his friends because of his scar. They were his friends because the liked him for being him, and Harry wasn't about to let some hair-gelled, stuck-up snake be mean to them.

It was then that Harry made his second enemy of sorts. As he seemed to be cursed to have, he had another nemesis at Hogwarts while he was away from his original enemies back at number four Privet Drive. Like always, someone was out to get him.

And if one enemy at Hogwarts wasn't bad enough, he also managed to get on the wrong side of the Potions Master on his very first day of schooling at Hogwarts. Severus Snape. For reasons Harry could not begin to uncover, the greasy-haired, hooked-nosed professor hated him. Hagrid might have refused to believe it, but Harry knew without a doubt that the man was out to get him. From his very first day in potions the teacher pelted him with questions with answers that were unknown to all present except for himself and, of course, Hermione Granger. He criticized Harry's work and fame and never missed an opportunity to dock points from Gryffindor. No, Harry had done absolutely nothing that he knew of to make the black-clad professor of Potions hate him. But yet, he did, and Harry had gained his third nemesis at a mere age of eleven.

But still Harry moved forward. He endured the torture that was Potions and dealt with the sneering, jealous boy that was Malfoy, and managed to find joy at his new-found home and school. Even the small time nemesis', like Mrs. Norris and Filch, could be shaken off and overcome. Despite his enemies, Harry felt happier than he had ever felt in his entire life.

But he never expected his greatest enemy was yet to come.

Voldemort.

Harry would never forget when he first laid eyes on the man that killed his parents. The Dark Wizard had taken residence on the back of his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's head and did not have his own body, but yet Harry had been paralyzed by fear, unable to look away from the Dark Lord's furious red eyes. He almost died that night. And every year from then on, the Dark Lord terrorized him, trying to do what none of Harry's previous enemies had ever tried to do: kill him. None of his previous enemies, not Malfoy, not Snape, not Dudley, compared. Voldemort was his one true nemesis that he had done nothing to anger, but yet was set on killing him. Like always, Voldemort was out to get him. Someone was always out to get Harry.

The years passed. Harry accumulated new enemies at every corner. Cornelius Fudge. Dolores Umbridge. The whole of the Death Eater ranks. Lucius Malfoy, Rufus Scrimegoer, Rita Skeeter…. The list kept growing and growing. And through it all, Voldemort still pursued him, his number one enemy on his ever growing list of nemeses. As always, someone was out to get him.

But now…now, nobody was out to get him. Voldemort was dead. Harry had made sure of that. The Death Eaters were scattered or locked away. Snape was dead, Malfoy no longer bothered him, Dudley and the Dursley's were out of his life for good, and all on his list of enemies were gone. Out of his life.

For the first time in his entire life, no one was out to get him.

Harry smiled at the thought as he hugged Ginny close to him.

No one was out to get him.