The End

Epilogue 3: It's a Long Way We've Come

Harry had never seen a doll house before. In fact, he really only knew they existed because Dudley used to turn up the volume on his television as much for the commercials as he did for the actual shows. Still, as Harry gazed down upon a small town from his lonely perch atop his speeding Firebolt, he supposed that this must be what doll houses look like. There they were, lined up along their little streets, and toy cars would sometimes drive past. Entire cities spread out below him as he flew, with their parking lots and neighborhoods, all of it built for people the size of ants. It all looked so small and delicate, like one errant foot could destroy it all.

Harry flew so high that he couldn't discern the people below him. He supposed it was a wise thing, because it meant that they couldn't see him either, but it made the entire world look like one big ghost town. More than once Harry found himself thinking that it felt like he was the last person left on Earth, and he would have to fly lower until he could see the tiny people and assure himself that civilization still carried on without him.

When the pull to return to the ground and join the people there became too strong, Harry would occupy himself with observing the clouds, and before long he'd learned to recognize which clouds meant a storm was coming and which ones heralded a sunny day. He had never felt freer than when he was in the air with the cold wind whipping by him and tussling his hair. Occasionally, he would even forget himself and start searching for the snitch. It always hit him like a blow to the stomach when he realized that he was nowhere near Hogwarts and the Quidditch pitch where he'd spent so many of his days.

Once he happened upon a castle and, practically sobbing with happiness and relief at finally finding his way back home, he had nearly landed before he realized that Hogwarts was still very far away. Disappointment stabbed him like a knife as he climbed back into the air and it took every bit of resolve he possessed to keep from pulling out his the location rock he'd found in his parents' workshop and finding his way back to Hogwarts.

When Harry started his journey he tried to remember how long he'd been traveling, but he lost track after about two weeks. He felt like he was living in a place beyond time. Winter quickly crept up around him, but it also came and went depending on where he was. For all he knew, he could have already been traveling for months.

Harry thought often about Ron and Hermione, mentally apologizing to them for leaving and debating why he had gone and whether he should come back. He could almost see Hermione with her hands on her hips, telling him that he was being ridiculous, and Ron, saying that he understands that Harry felt like he had to leave, but that he really ought to come back. Sometime Harry even heard Ginny in his head, and it was those times that he actually turned his broom toward Hogwarts and started back before he'd lose his nerve and return to the direction he'd been flying before.

He was doing this for them, he constantly told himself.

Day after day, Harry flew on, with no idea of where he might have started and even less of an inkling about where he might be going. At night he'd curl up under a cloak and a bush or on a park bench, with his firebolt shrunken and concealed in his pocket. There he'd listen to the animals howl as he fell asleep, only to be rousted out by the police in the early morning, or sometimes long before.

As the sun set one night, Harry found himself freezing cold and high over a large body of water. He searched the horizon but could see no sign of landfall. He sighed, the event he'd secretly hoped for had finally occurred, and he pressed on, wondering if he'd come upon solid ground before he was too exhausted to carry on. He was fairly certain he wouldn't mind the outcome either way.

It wasn't until the moon was high above that Harry's feet skimmed the water. He started out of his daze and gained a few meters in altitude, but lost them again over the next few minutes.

So this was it, then. This was how the famous Harry Potter was going to die. It seemed ironic, that the boy who lived, who had survived more encounters with Voldemort than any other member of the resistance, wouldn't die in battle, or even as the result of a spell, but in an icy ocean. But, there was nothing to be done about it now. If this was dying, then it wasn't so bad. To the well organized mind...

With some effort, Harry convinced his frozen hand to release the broom and reached into his pocket for his wand. He nearly dropped the tool several times before he managed to manipulate it so that it was lying flat on top of his numb hand.

"Point me!" Harry whispered. He'd failed to realize until that moment how much the salty air had dried out his mouth.

The wand indicated that he was flying northeast, and since the last country he remembered being in was Germany, he reasoned that if he flew southeast he was likely to encounter land sooner or later, although the question was whether he'd happen upon it soon enough.

Harry doggedly rotated his Firebolt to the desired direction and continued on. He was not sure how long he went on like that, nor for how much longer he would last. His brain felt numb, like he hadn't seen anything but icy darkness in years. A darkness only broken by the stars above and their reflections in the water below, or was it reality below and reflection above? If he was flying upside down he would have fallen off long ago, wouldn't he? Maybe he already had. But there was something other than stars ahead, something brighter, closer, something he could reach. A ship, no, a shore.

Finally, Harry dragged himself to a Norwegian beachside hotel, and checked into a room. He didn't notice or care about the strange looks he eared by trying to pay with a handful of Galleons and Sickles. When Harry finally produced a stack of twenty pound notes instead, the proprietor, already intimidated by the fact that his new guest was soaking wet and toting a large broom that looked like it would be of absolutely no use for sweeping, didn't bother with insisting upon Norwegian currency.

Harry flopped onto his bed without bothering to undress, get under the covers, or even remove his waterlogged shoes and fell asleep almost immediately. He slept through almost all of the next day, but that evening ate his first warm meal in months. He thoroughly enjoyed it even though his senses were dulled by the beginnings of a massive head cold, the result of his negligence to get out of his wet clothes the night before.

Fortunately, the owner of the hotel was a man of few words and even fewer questions, a fact that was only exacerbated by his relatively limited command of the English language, so Harry was spared from having to concoct some lie about his strange behavior and appearance his first night there, although he was much more careful not to slip up and forget to act like a Muggle over the next few days.

Harry stayed at the hotel for over a week, until he deemed himself recovered from his cold enough to fly his broom without causing himself to pass out due to the changes in inertia.

Harry still wasn't sure what he'd intended to do when he left Hogwarts nearly three months ago, but he knew he still hadn't managed it, although he had eliminated one of the possibilities: to die. Since choosing directions at random no longer seemed like a wise option, Harry bought several maps of different regions of Europe, figuring that he might as well see some of the great sights while he was wandering.

After touring Sweden and Finland, Harry made for Moscow and Saint Petersburg then took his time exploring the nooks and crannies of Eastern Europe. After that his whimsy led him to Germany, or more specifically, to its castles, but glorious and ornate as they were, in Harry's mind, Hogwarts was still far superior. While he was there, Hedwig caught up with him, bearing a letter from Ron and Hermione. Harry wasn't sure at all how to respond to it, so he didn't, and moved on.

Unable to help himself, Harry actually stopped in Paris and joined a tour destined for the top of the Eiffel Tower. Although he couldn't help but marvel at the view with the rest of the group, it felt strange and somehow dizzying to be so high and still have solid floor beneath his feet. Suddenly, he longed for nothing more than to pull his Firebolt out of his pocket, return it to its normal size, and once again search out new horizons, which was more or less what he did, although he forced himself to wait until he was a sufficient distance from the city first.

As Harry soared over the French countryside in the general direction of Rome, he noticed something strange ahead: there was a forest covering a mountainside, and it was moving. The closer he got, the more he became aware that something strange was going on and the more he convinced himself that no Muggle beast or machine could cause so many large trees to behave in such a way.

Harry landed a short distance from one edge of the disturbance and crept slowly toward it, wand raised. As he advanced, Harry, hopeful for some hint about what he was about to encounter, considered what manner of beast might be perpetrating this destruction, but only a few came to mind. After all, even in the magical world, the ability to uproot a thirty foot tall tree by strength alone was hard to come by, and of the creatures that possessed the ability only a few would bother to use it for such a menial task. Perhaps there were trolls, but he should have smelt them by now.

"Harry?"

The wizard spun around and nearly cursed his visitor, but managed to restrain himself at the last second.

"Grawp, what are you doing here?"

"Grawp live here," the giant explained slowly. "Hagger take me here."

"Hagrid," Harry breathed. "Is he here too? Can you take me to him?"

Instead of answering, Grawp turned and took off through the dense forest. Not sure whether the giant intended for Harry to follow or not, the wizard nevertheless gave chase, first on foot, then, when he discovered himself incapable of matching Grawp's huge strides, he boarded his Firebolt and took to the air. This was hardly a better option, since Harry had to fly above the canopy and Grawp's rampage only manifested itself as a slight ripple once it reached the top of the trees, but eventually the forest opened up into a large, lake filled clearing, with a cottage and a dock on one side.

"Hagger," Grawp said, pointing out toward the lake.

"Thanks," Harry said, squinting out into the distance. As Grawp stomped off, Harry finally located a rowboat at the far side of the lake and flew over to it.

Hagrid had been absently contemplating a makeshift fishing line when Harry came up beside him and tapped him on the shoulder. The wizard soon came to wish he'd come up with a different method, for the boat, far too small for its cargo, nearly capsized when Hagrid turned to face his company.

"Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed as soon as the boat stabilized. "What the hell yeh doin' here?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I just wound up here, I guess."

"Wha' about Ron and Hermione?" Hagrid asked excitedly, looking around for them and nearly sinking the boat again.

"They're still in England, I expect," Harry replied.

"Where yeh should be," Hagrid agreed. "I though' yeh'd be half way done with yer Auror training by now."

"I haven't started yet," Harry sighed. "The truth is I'm not sure I want to be an Auror anymore."

"But I though' yeh always wanted ter be a dark wizard catcher," Hagrid stammered. "Tha's why yeh worked so hard on all yer N.E.W.T.S."

"I could only ever imagine myself as a dark wizard catcher," Harry replied, trying to think of when he'd ever given any effort to his N.E.W.T.S, but he was too happy to see Hagrid to correct him. "I studied so much because I thought I needed to in order to stop Voldemort. I guess I never really considered that there would ever be any other dark wizards to catch."

"Well tha' was a bit stupid of yeh," Hagrid said.

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry muttered.

"There are better ways of solvin' this than comin' out here and talking to me," Hagrid pointed out. "What are yeh really doin' here?"

"Hagrid, something's happened," Harry replied.

"What?" Hagrid demanded, once again nearly sending himself into the lake. "There's trouble brewin'?"

"No," Harry said. "Well...yes...there was, but we managed to stop it. It's a long story."

"Wha' do yeh say we go have a cup a tea, then?" Hagrid suggested, pulling out his pink umbrella. "Seems between the two of us we've scared off all the fish anyway."

Harry flew back to the dock and waited a few minutes for Hagrid to arrive, then, together, they walked to the cottage.

Hagrid busied himself about preparing tea and Harry sat down at the oversized table.

"So, this is where you've been all this time," Harry remarked. "It's nice."

"Here?" Hagrid said. "Nah, this is jus' temporary. My usual place is much closer to Beauxbatons."

"Oh," Harry said, wondering what else he'd missed.

"Yeh're a mess, Harry," Hagrid replied gruffly.

Harry didn't even bother trying to defend himself. His clothes were ragged and torn, his Firebolt had lost none of its grace in the air but most of its sleek appearance, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to comb his hair, much less shave. He suddenly became much more self conscious when he realized that it must have been some time since he'd even taken a shower.

"So what's this long story you wanted to tell me about?" Hagrid prompted as he sat down and poured them both tea.

"The Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban," Harry replied. "They were trying to regain Voldemort's power, with Lucius Malfoy as their leader."

"No!" Hagrid exclaimed, jumping up so fast that he nearly toppled the table.

"Yeah," Harry muttered. He went on to explain about the entire effort to recapture them. However, as he was approaching the end of the story he was interrupted by heavy footsteps outside of the cabin.

Hagrid excused himself and stepped outside, and Harry could hear him talking to Grawp.

"Yeh finished with tha' side of the mountain, then?"

"Yes." Grawp's booming voice rattled the teacups.

"Well, yeh can take a break or move on ter the other side," Hagrid replied before stepping inside. "Muggles are plannin' ter log this forest, so I've got Grawp and 'is friends out searching for Fwoopers and other magical creatures so we can relocate 'em," Hagrid explained, noticing Harry's confused look. "Yeh still 'aven't explained wha' yer doin' 'ere, Harry."

"I just couldn't stay there, Hagrid," Harry replied. "Not after everything. I left Ron to die, and then I did it again, and that's-"

"Yeh said that Michael bloke made yeh leave," Hagrid reminded him.

"That doesn't make it any better," Harry sighed. "And that's not the worst bit. Hagrid, Fred died. A Death Eater killed him."

Hagrid stared at Harry uncomprehendingly for a moment, then he sat down with a force that would have crushed a lesser chair.

"Fred's gone?" he breathed.

Harry nodded, watching his tea gloomily.

It was several minutes before Hagrid was able to muster a reply.

"Maybe yeh'd better finish the story," he stammered finally.

Harry did, struggling to control his shaking voice. He left nothing out, not even what he, Ron, and Hermione learned about each other.

"Are yeh sure yeh got them all?" Hagrid asked when Harry finally finished.

"Fairly sure," Harry admitted. "We made sure that none of the Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor that night could escape, and hopefully the Ministry's picked up any stragglers by now, although I suppose I shouldn't count on it." Harry suddenly felt much less certain of himself.

"They're all in Azkaban, then?" Hagrid pressed, unable to repress a shudder when he mentioned the name of the horrible prison.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "The Ministry promised to tighten security, but you know how they are."

"Aye," Hagrid agreed.

"Well it was either that or kill the whole lot of them," Harry pointed out.

"And yeh might find yourself wishin' yeh'd done just tha'," Hagrid replied.

"Please don't say that," Harry begged. "Not unless you know what it's like."

"I suppose I don't," Hagrid admitted. "So yeh said yeh put an end to Lucius Malfoy. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on him myself, knowing what he did to Hermione. It's just lucky you and Ron came alon'."

"We didn't even realize," Harry said, staring into the fire. "Not for months. She did such a good job of covering it up. Sydney said that she envied me for my friends, because I had people that I could talk to without having to lie. Turns out we haven't been nearly as honest with each other as we should have."

It was some time before Hagrid managed to concoct a suitable change of subject. "Bu' wha' are yeh doin' out 'ere?"

"It's all my fault, especially what happened to Ron, Hermione, and Fred," Harry replied gloomily.

"Now yeh can' blame yerself for all tha'!" Hagrid exclaimed.

"I can try," Harry muttered.

"I'm sure the Weasleys and Hermione will want to see yeh," Hagrid maintained, "just ter know yeh're alright, at least. Have yeh even written to 'em?"

"No," Harry replied.

"Then go back!" Hagrid said. "Things can' possibly be worse than when yeh left."

"Hagrid, you haven't been in England in months, you don't know what it's like there. I'm not human, not according to most people. I'm some superhuman, hero of the planet, the chosen one," Harry spat. "I'm a curiosity, something people don't expect to see on the street, like I belong in a museum so that everyone can come and see and stare. I don't want to be me anymore, I would give anything to live a normal life and I don't deserve to be considered a hero."

"Yeh're normal ter me," Hagrid replied.

"Thanks."

"And a hero," Hagrid continued. Harry didn't respond, so Hagrid asked, "How are Ron and Hermione, then?"

"Better now, I guess," Harry replied, "but what's the date?"

"April twenty seventh," Harry replied, giving Harry a strange look.

"Then I haven't seen them in almost six months," Harry explained.

"Yeh've been ou' here for six months?" Hagrid demanded. "But what've yeh been doin' all this time?"

"Sightseeing, mostly," Harry admitted. "I felt like I had some things to figure out."

"I suppose yeh haven' found yer answers, then," Hagrid replied.

"I haven't gone back yet, have I?" Harry shrugged.

"So yeh haven' heard form Ron and Hermione at all?" Hagrid asked, perplexed.

"Well, I asked them not to try and find me or write to me," Harry replied, "but I did get this a few weeks ago. I expect you've gotten one too, or you will soon."

Harry pulled a folded not out of his pocket, its deep creases indicating that it had been unfolded and read several times. He held it out to Hagrid.

You are cordially invited to the marriage of Mr. Ronald Billius Weasley to Miss Hermione Jane Granger, to take place at two o'clock in the afternoon on the first of July of the year nineteen hundred and ninety nine at the Alchemist Inn, Hogsmeade. Reception to follow in Hogwarts' Great Hall.

In spite of himself, Harry couldn't help but feel his spirits lift when he saw the note, a feeling that was contrasted by a sharp increase in the amount of butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

"Excitin', isn't it?" Hagrid asked, his eyes glittering.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, a bit reluctantly.

"Yeh will be going, won't yeh?" Hagrid pressed suspiciously.

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted.

"Yeh're not sure!" Hagrid exclaimed, jostling the table again. "They're yer friends, Harry, they'd want yeh ter be there."

"I wouldn't want me to be there," Harry muttered.

"Blimey, Harry, yeh are set on being depressed about this," Hagrid replied. "Why would yeh think tha'?"

"Because it's true," Harry said.

"Well, it shouldn' be."

"Hagrid, I've killed people!" Harry exclaimed. "I don't want to be around me. I'd just ruin the celebration, I can't do that to them."

"They wouldn' have invited yeh if they didn't want yeh to come," Hagrid pointed out.

"They would have if they knew I'd find out anyway and want to know why I wasn't invited," Harry countered.

"Then I suppose yeh still have some things to figure ou' then," Hagrid muttered dejectedly.

"Hagrid, I know that there are still dark wizards who want me dead, Wizards who weren't even Voldemort's followers," Harry pointed out. "That's never going to change, because somehow I've become the symbol of the good side, like Dumbledore used to be."

"Well, I think Dumbledore go' along jus' fine," Hagrid replied.

"That's the trouble, I'm not Dumbledore," Harry maintained. "I'm not this great powerful wizard. I'm just Harry."

"Yeh've said tha' before," Hagrid reminded him. "I think you've already proven yourself wrong. Yer Harry Potter, yeh won' ever be jus' anythin'."

"I am the new Dark Lord," Harry said, looking up at Hagrid.

"Now why would yeh say tha'?" Hagrid asked, tensing up in spite of himself

"Because it's true," Harry muttered.

"'Course it's not," Hagrid maintained. "Yeh haven' thrown in with the Death Eaters or tortured Muggles or any o' tha'."

"No, I haven't," Harry replied, "but that's not really what I mean. Think about it, Hagrid. There will always be wizards who agree with Voldemort's point of view and think that Muggles and Muggle-borns are scum. Then here I am, Harry bleeding Potter, savior of the universe, chosen one, beacon of light in the world, and symbol of tolerance, and they start to think, 'If I can just get rid of that Potter then no one will doubt my power.' So they start trying it, and before I even know they exist they've started gathering followers and killing Muggles and Muggle-borns. By the time I realize they're a threat they're already half-way to becoming Voldemort, and even if I stop that person there will always be another one to take his place. This is never going to stop."

"Tha' may be true," Hagrid admitted, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "but it's not yer fault."

"I'm not saying it's my fault," Harry muttered. 'I'm saying I'm the reason for it. And I'll fight them, I will, but I can't fight forever. One day one of them will get the best of me, and what happens to the world then?"

"Savin' the world isn't your responsibility anymore."

"I put a stop to Voldemort and now everyone thinks I can solve anything. When the Death Eaters came back Randell went to me before the Aurors."

"Yeh don't have ter fight alone."

"Maybe that's why I'm here, because if no one can find me then they'll think I'm dead and the aspiring Dark Lords won't have a symbol of the light to defeat."

"Yeh can't run forever."

"I can try. I've lasted this long."

"I've never known runnin' away teh solve anything."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Yer friends need yeh, and I think yeh need them."

"I'd just be putting them in danger."

"They'd be willing to risk it."

"I'm not Dumbledore."

"No, yer Harry Potter."

"What good is that?"

"Have yeh stopped to consider that people need you because yeh are Harry Potter. Yeh give people something to aspire to. I wonder how many children hear yer story and say they want to grow up and be you."

"A few. They'd be better off if they didn't. I don't even want to be me."

"Maybe dark wizards see yeh as a threat, but everyone else needs yeh, because as long as yer around then things'll work out alrigh'."

"I'm so sick of this shit," Harry moaned, propping his head up on his hand. "I'm sick of wars and of being famous, and of everyone I love getting hurt so I don't have to."

"It can't last forever."

"You don't know that."

"Then maybe yeh shouldn't expect this peace we've got to last forever, just long enough"

"Three months, Hagrid. That's how long it took the Death Eaters to regroup."

"And maybe yeh got 'em for good this time. They can't fight forever either."

"As long as I keep on the move the people around me won't get hurt because of me," Harry sighed.

"If yeh put yer mind to it I think ye'll realize that yeh need yer friends as much as they need you," Hagrid replied.

"I'm not afraid for me!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yer welcome ter stay as long as yeh like," Hagrid said calmly, standing up and moving to a cupboard to look for some spare bedding.

"I should really keep going," Harry replied wearily as he stood up.

"Nonsense," Hagrid replied gruffly. "Yeh look like yeh haven' slept in a year, 'Arry! Yer stayin' the nigh' a' leas'."

"Thanks," Harry sighed.