*If you haven't watched all the Harry Potter movies, or read the books, please do not continue.
At first, I hated you. I loathed you beyond all meanings of the word. You were cruel, nasty and utterly biased towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.
You were a death eater, and as far as I was concerned, you still fraternized with Who-Must-Not-Be-Named even after his fall from power during the Dark Times. Once a death eater, always a death eater, or so I thought.
Throughout the story, we learned more about you. We learned James and Sirius bullied you to no end. We learned you had a soft spot for Lily. We learned beneath the strikingly greasy hair, there was a man who longed for an unobtainable woman.
We learned your ill-will towards Harry was merely because he reminded you of his mother, with his unequivocally haunting green eyes, and his father, who wore you down with insults and tricks.
Even though Dumbledore advised he trusted you throughout the entire series, it wan't until the very end that we were able to believe him.
You gave your life for the pursuit of defeating the Dark Lord and asked for nothing in return except for the boy to be saved. You died to save the Boy Who Lived.
Your patronus was a doe, the same as Lily's. Your love for her was purer than the clearest rivers flowing swiftly through the countryside near Hogwarts.
You certainly had your moments, but in the end, you were the true hero.
We will miss you more than anything and we will love you, until the very end.