I am supposed to be the boy who lives. I'm supposed to be the person who saves the magic world. Or that's what some legend says. I don't know if it's true, and I won't know. By now you must ask why? It's because I'm dead. D-E-A-D Dead. So how do I know this? Well I guess I should start at the beginning shouldn't I? Fine. I guess I can. Maybe, if you can keep up.

I was 11 when I was sent a white envelope that said I was different. Different. Yeah. Sure. I knew my parents were dead and my aunt and uncle loved to throw salt in the wound, and then rub it in. I was their slave their kick boy... I don't see why they wanted me to not get that envelope, but they kept me away from it. So with the speed and seriousness of saving my life from such a terrible thing. My uncle made sure I was shuffled quickly away from the horrible white envelopes were gone.

My aunt made snarky comments about how I'd never be special and everyone would drive me away at any point.

"If that's the case." I said not meaning to say it out loud, but I did. "Why won't you let me go to a school far far away and not bother me?"

"Harry!" Vernon turned to me with fire in his eyes. "If you don't-"

"Vernon."

"Not now dear I am scolding the boy!" He said in obvious links to show he hadn't cared enough about my safety to not point a pudgy little finger in my face and pay attention to the bloody road. So when the very large very powerful truck was speeding our way it was some what evident that I.. They.. Someone was about to die.

"Dad.."

"Dudley don't get into this."

"Yeah Dudley don't get into this... You might want to watch what little life you had flash before your eyes."

"Now just what in the bloody hell is that supposed to me-"

"VERNON!"

"Whahha Oh!" He quickly turned around and seen the truck. Boom Crash Flip.

Flip one: Vernon screams at me that this is my fault.

Flip two: My aunt Petunia swears my sister died just to punish her.

Flip three: I can't remember for the screams of my quite annoying cousin.

Flip four: A vision of green. Weird that it would be a flash of green, and then my mothers face, and then more green what the hell?

Flip five: I'm dead.

Wonderful. Now we are caught up on how I got here. To this beatiful place of color. Of course nothing was black and white where I was, but the colors were often blurred by tears. Not to sound like a wimp, but I was eleven with no love or affection from either human being who was an adult. It is some what depressing. So depressing I got sad, but then joyous I was dead.

"Hello love."

I look up, there is a blue woman in a black gown with her hair pinned up. She's got a vail on her face like she used to be a bride, but now she isn't. Creepy... "Hi. Do you know where I am?"

"Your dead."

"Yes I gathered that."

"Oh you're in neither heaven or hell. You're just in the little old place for restless spirits."

"That is?" I ask again.

"Well it is the under world, but you can go to two of those places that you have always heard of. Or another place if you're neither a goody goody or a naughty naughty." She giggled looking over a scroll that had my name at the top. Harry J. Potter.

"Have I been a horrible person so far?" I ask. By this point I'm piss pants petrified, but then again I'm sure anyone would be. If you say you're not you're lying.

"You've been a normal eleven year old... Well as normal as someone who isn't supposed to be here can be... Now if that cousin Dudley was here. He'd get the boot right down the road."

"Where am I going?"

"To an orphanage... To await the next care takers of your undead life."

"I'm going to an orphanage... Are my parents coming?!"

"Define parents."

"You know the ones who gave birth to me?!"

"Oh goodness now. James and his wife are in a much better place."

"Well can't I go there?!"

"Much too neutral of a life to say."

"So I've got to wait until you're ready to give me some parents."

"Well if we let children run ragged all over the underworld it wouldn't be the amazing place it is. Full of music and laughter. Unlike you-"

"Did you say Dudley lived?"

"I did."

"What about-"

"Everyone lived Harry.. Except of course the boy who lived."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Ah yes. Well you're dead so I suppose you should know." She handed me this long piece of paper and sat beside me. "Ready?"

"For?"

"This is your life." She held out her hands as if there was a hilarious game show behind her. I guess I wasn't laughing, because you know, I'm dead. "Don't worry death humor will come to you."

"Wonderful to know."

"Sarcasm is a second language here. So glad to hear you're fluent." She smiled.

I rolled my eyes, but a foolishly goofy smile crossed my face. I looked down "I'm trying to read."

"Well read Harry no one is stopping you."

Apparently I would fit in fine, between sarcasm and dark humor this place was made for me. Strange to say I had to die to start my life. I started reading.

Harry James Potter born July thirty first of the year nineteen eighty to James and Lilly Potter who died on the day of The Pumpkin Kings arrival on Nineteen eighty one. Harry was a mere age of fifteen months when the man known as Thomas Riddle AKA Voldemort murdered his parents to keep him away from the prophecy.

On the morn of November First Nineteen eighty one. A powerful wizard known as Dumbledore, Professor McGongal, and the Beast keeper Hagrid left him at the door steps of the Aunt and Uncle Vernon and Petunia Dursley Who had a son named Dudley Dursely.

On an escape from the letters of his eleventh July thirty first a car crash caused by ignorance led to the ultimate demise of the Boy who lived. Though he has stopped a part of Voldemort's plan.. The boy is not yet finished. Death is the only beginning.

I wanted to cry.. I died on my birthday. Isn't that like a one in a million thing that happens. Like twenty famous people had had that happen and now in some weird world It happened to me. I look up at the blue lady who is now holding me close to her bosom like she felt awful for me. I wrapped my arms around her. What else could I do? I'm dead. Bad things happen to good people and apparently whatever I've endured isn't finished yet.