A/N : Hello guys, I'm Sweet Adagio, and .. well this isn't my first story, be it in English or about HP, but it was long ago and I believe it was deleted. Just so you know, I'm French so my English grammar may not be the best, and if you see some things that could be improved, then don't hesitate to tell me, but if you would be kind enough to avoid flames, that would be very nice of you!
Ok, I shut up and let you read the first chapter, I hope you'll like it :)
After 3 years of war and numerous casualties, Harry Potter finally vanquished the Dark Lord Voldemort. It took him and his friends two years to destroy all of the horcruxes. After one more year of hiding and fighting for their lives, the occasion to kill Voldemort presented itself in the form of Draco Malfoy and his delusions.
His hopes of grandeur were crushed; his once admired father was groveling to the feet of a mad man, offering him as a disposable tool. That pushed the once overly arrogant Slytherin to seek help, and who better than Harry Potter then? The opening was slim, but it was enough for the raven haired man, who presented himself alone to the Dark Lord. The outcome was obvious, as Voldemort uttered the two dreaded words. Harry Potter was ready to die for his friends, for the peace, and that was what saved him, allowing him to kill the monster that ruled with fear.
For a few minutes, the world was still, as if it stopped. And then, cheers and cries were heard all through the Wizarding Great Britain as the news were heard by all the wizards. Finally the families allowed themselves to grieve for the lost. They were so many of them, Flitwick, Lavender, Padma and Parvati, Percy, Andromeda and her daughter, leaving a devastated Lupin, and so many more.
As society was slowly trying to go back to before the war, voices began to rise, asking questions about their Savior. As if gaining peace was not enough, the wizards decided to do what they knew best: betraying.
That explained why Harry Potter, appointed savior and martyr of the Light found himself bound in the Department of Mysteries. Surviving the Killing Curse a second time, killing the Darkest Lord who has ever walked on this earth, polishing his dueling skills and his magical power to a point almost never attained, everything piled up for the people to fear him. It had begun with Ginny distancing herself from him, then Ron and Hermione deciding they were better off in South Africa without him, and like this, all of his support slowly disappeared, leaving him to bear the burden of what he did alone.
Sure, Harry Potter vanquished the Dark lord, but for such a high price! And here he was, probed, cut open, drained of his magic to the almost critical level, only for them to wait and go at it once again. What they wanted was t unravel the secrets of his survival of the Killing curse. He shouted at them that it wasn't a mysterious power but some sacrificial rituals, they never stopped. When he wasn't in the DoM, he was in Azkaban, rocking back and forth as all of the persons he killed or were killed for him haunted his mind, screaming, crying, or just watching him. He was on the brink of madness, being tortured physically or mentally, going from clarity to complete and mad desperation. His time in the ministry was hazy, memories in a dark corner of his mindscape, as he locked himself deep inside his own mind, escaping the harsh reality.
But now, he was really and truly on the brink of complete and utter madness, and he didn't want that for him. Through the despair and the fear, he wanted a peaceful life, he had earned it so long ago, it was something the world owed him. It was the very least fate could offer him for all of his sacrifices.
And that meant he only had one choice left, one he didn't want to consider before, as it could mean going back to a war, to a world where Voldemort still existed. But what could he do? He was the Ministry and the Wizards greatest fear now, and only experiment subject that condemned him to a life in facilities and prison. All was better than this… it couldn't even be called a life.
Harry made up his mind, and looked around; the Auror usually guarding him was at his weekly reunion, and the Dementor was away, which left him with about twenty minutes before they came back. He twisted his arms, trying to get them in front of him. After a few minutes of struggle, he succeeded, and while short on breath, he bit his wrist as hard as he could, breaking skin and veins, allowing blood to flow freely from his wrist. He drew a circle, and a pentacle, a rune at the end of each branch. What he was about to do was a forbidden ritual, based on blood and mind magic. This was all about the caster's deepest desires. If one ignored them, the result could be … horrible, or they would at least be in for a huge 'surprise'.
But he knew he didn't have much of a choice. It was trying this or turning mad.
He sat in the middle of the circle and closed his eyes. He inspired, expired, and opened his mouth.
"Obedite meorum, magia omnipotens exaudi vota omnípotens fata mihi, cupiditatibus mors misericors"1
The magic that was required made an alarm rang through the prison. While all the Aurors apparated in front of his cell, Harry Potter purely disappeared from this world before their very eyes, to never come back.
Later, they would ask where the Hallows and the Holly wand, securely guarded in a Gringott's vault, went. The answer would be that they followed their master, the master of the Death
That would never be found, and the magical world would only live in peace for about 5 years, and another dark Lord would then rise.
Remus Lupin quietly disappeared, having nothing left. His disappearance would only be noticed a few weeks later.
1Obey me, Almighty God, hear the prayer of Almighty magic, my fate, who are merciful death : it didn't came out as I expected it. It shouldn't have been almighty god, but Google traduction is really stupid.
I hope you liked this chapter, and that you will Review ^^. It's been a while since I ventured in writing in HP's fandom, so please don't be too harsh?