Is this death? Or am I still drifting between being real and being gone? The whiteness clears away. Where am I? What is happening? If this is death it feels good, it feels calm, it feels soothing, it feels natural. I feel relaxed, as if I'm going to sleep after a long day.

Then it starts. Images speed past me, so fast that I can barely make out what they are. Then I see something clearly. A memory that I'd forgotten. My family stands together. Lucius, Narcissa, draco and me all of us close. Draco and I are young, maybe two? We chase each other round and round the room of the manor, the room where I was chained. We laugh. We smile. We are happy. Narcissa leans against Lucius, with her hand on his shoulder and they both smile watching us. "Bet you can't get me!" Draco cries. Narcissa and Lucius laugh, and for once I think of them as I once did. I think of them as family.

Then another memory flashes in front of me. Dumbledore. His arms are around me. I feel myself calming down. "Remember Amy," he says, "it is not our abilities that make us what we truly are. It is our choices. And I am proud of your choices. You are a amazing girl."

Then I see yet another memory. Harry stands in front of me. "It's ok. Don't cry. Dumbledore still loves you doesn't he? His death won't change you. Your still Amy dumbledore, my best friend." Harry says. I see myself say, "Really? Will we always be friends?" "Even when we're both gone."

Then I see the muggle smiling at me. I see us appirate. I see Ron die. Then his death triggers yet another memory. But this memory is small. I see us walking with Hermione and him telling me what he thought of dumbledore. And now I'm about to join Harry. And Ron with his bright red hair. And dumbledore with his kind smile. But I want to hold on. I want to see life. I want to make sure Voldemort is dead. "He's dead." Harry's voice says, "and I am proud of you." That wasn't a memory.

Then I see Draco. I realize what I died for. I died for him. Now I understand what true love is. And I love my twin brother, Draco Malfoy. Now I also realize something else. I know who I am. Amy is not Amy dumbledore or Amy Malfoy. She is a mixture of both. She is never one. I smile knowing that I am about to see my friends. I smile, shut my eyes and part. I have left my body. Amy is dead.