Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter, except my own copies of the books which I waited until midnight to get, of course.

Summary: Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord at the age of seventeen. Afterwards, he was seen walking off the battlefield and it was the last that anyone in the Wizarding World ever saw of him again – even his friends. What happened to the Hero of the Wizarding World and what is he up to now? Will he ever go back to his world? POST-HOGWARTS, POSSIBLE SLASH.

A/N: I know, I was supposed to continue The Way Back – but it still hasn't been updated yet. I'M SORRY! I'm just weird like that. Anyway, this idea just popped into my head and I just HAD to get it down and yes, I know there are many fics out there that have Harry leaving the Wizarding World and there are some very good ones out there. I just hope this interests you enough! I'm also sorry for the short length but it is the prologue, after all.

Oh yes, one more thing. I'm not sure about the rating so just to be sure, it's going to be the equivalent of PG-13 so my fic won't get knocked off or anything but there should be nothing explicit. I'll update the rating if it needs to be changed.

Enjoy!

Siri

10.06.06

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It Was About Time

Prologue

"Avada Kedavra!" The ruby-eyed creature roared. As a green light started to form, a young, raven-haired man rolled out of range of the potentially deadly curse just as it sped past him, missing him by mere inches.

"Impedimenta! Stupefy!" he yelled in quick succession.

The taller man who wore malice and darkness like a cloak disappeared with a crack only to appear behind the smaller man. The younger man whirled in a perfect 180 degrees only to come face-to-face with an ebony wand, point blank. He froze. A pale, lipless mouth was stretched over pointed teeth in a hideous attempt at a smile.

"So, Potter." The man spat, while holding the seventeen-year-old at wand point. "It looks as if I get the upper hand this time. The great Harry Potter will be nothing more than a story and I will still be here in my rightful place." An evil smirk crossed his face. "I wonder what will happen to your friends…?" Harry glared at his arch nemesis at the not-so-subtle threat.

"Nothing will happen. You won't be alive to do anything." He said with complete confidence, his emerald eyes mentally burning a hole through Voldemort's head with the extent of his anger. The addressed man showed no sign to have heard the young man except for a slight twitch of his right eye and the flaring of his slit-like nostrils. Harry smirked and he shifted as he subtly slid his free hand into his robes.

"So, Tom." He stressed the word, unconsciously mimicking his rival. "Feeling a bit twitchy today, aren't you? Do you feel your end already at the hands of a seventeen-year-old boy?" The Dark Lord of that age snarled and made a slashing motion with his wand – but not before Harry did the same. The last thing Lord Voldemort saw was a flash of metal, an intense wrenching pain as his innards spilled out – and nothing more.

Harry stared down at what his work had wrought with a face set with lips pressed together and an intense gaze. The creature that had put himself and many others through so much ache and hardship, so much bloodshed and the growing grave plots throughout the world was now laying in his own gore. Harry let the steel sword that he had hidden in his robes to do the deed fall to the ground with a muffled thud from the matted grass covering the ground, still stained with the blood of Pure Evil. Without a word, he turned around and left the carnage of the battlefield. He ignored the remaining people who had stopped to gawk at the corpse and at him as he left calmly, only pausing to nod at a tall sallow-skinned man clad in the thin fabric of the Death Eaters' robes. The man's lips twitched a bit before motioning with his hand.

Harry hesitated for a moment at the high-pitched screams calling him back before he disapparated when he was at the edge of the field where the red stains ended and the forest began.

The last thing people saw from him was a sad smile and a slight wave when Harry turned around to look once more at what he was going to leave behind and the backdrop of a magnificent castle that was his home for the past seven years framed by twinkling stars. It was what he needed to leave behind for his own sake.

His duty was done and he was finished with it all.

It was about time he became Harry without anyone prostrating before him or treating him like he did something supposedly worthwhile at the tender age of one, while the only thing that happened was his newfound status as "orphan". It was about time he made a name for himself instead of being born into it.

By the time a bushy-haired brunette arrived there, out-of-breath and panting, it was too late.

Harry was gone and if he had it his way, it was forever.

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A/N: So… does it have potential or does it need work?

Thanks for reading!