After the End

Chapter 1: Willing Exile

Harry Potter sat on the balcony, leaning on the wrought iron, flowered handrail, looking out over the Parisian skyline. He had been in Wizarding Paris for these, what, two months since his final battle with Voldemort at Hogwarts. He still thought about that next morning, wondering if this was the right thing to do, or if he was being a coward. He sighed and sipped his coffee, slipping back into his reverie.

He had awoken that morning from a fitful sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes he could see the dead of Hogwarts swimming in his visions, and he had cried, for them, for himself, for his parents, for Dumbledore. He was met in the Gryffindor common room by a very bedraggled Kingsley, who directed Harry to sit down with his eyes. They waited until the room had emptied as breakfast was being served, and then Kingsley spoke. "Harry, as you know, the old Minister is dead, and we are seeking a replacement, however, there is an issue. There are those who would wish to take this power for themselves, and they have people, some very powerful, dangerous people behind them."

"And let me guess, you want me to vouch for you? Be your poster child and play favorites?" Harry was not impressed; he had seen this song and dance before. "I thought you were above this Kingsley."

"No, that's not what I want. I am confident that reason will prevail and we will be able to hold elections. What I want is to prevent the others from trying to use you. Everything you say will be twisted by these, these dissidents."

"So you want me to hide in my house and never go out and never say anything?"

"Again, no. I would like for you to leave the country for a little while, we will simply tell the press that you wish to take a break from the stress of our current situation."

"But I don't want to 'sit back and relax'. Not while Voldemort's goons are still running around, killing people. They won't stop because their leader is dead, they'll only stop when they've all been given the Dementor's kiss." Harry was pacing, his eyes flashed with hatred as the last words left his lips. His tears had run dry; he was now filled with the passion of a man who had watched his loved ones die. He thought of Fred, Colin, Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, Dumbledore, and the others who he did not know, and the need for justice swelled in him."

"You wouldn't be, we can't waste one of our most valuable assets. Even now, the war is far from over." Kingsley knew he had succeeded. "Many death eaters fled the country after the fall of Voldemort, and have begun to grow support. We're going to send you to Paris, set you up, and let you hunt them down. No limitations, no interference, just you and them."

Harry was suddenly overcome with repulsion at the glint in Kingsley's eyes. He was being sent to be the Ministry's hound, sent to kill mindlessly whatever he was told to. But there was that tug; that call for justice, nay, vengeance. But Harry knew that there would be no Ron in Paris, no Hermione or Neville, no Luna. And, maybe, most importantly, no Ginny. Ginny was down there somewhere, mourning her brother. He could console her, have her finally. But her face also stirred the dark waters in his head, and he pictured all the men that could still hurt her, the men that had sworn vengeance on him for killing their master, and who would hurt them in any way they could. He had to do this, he didn't want to, but he had to. "I'll do it, but I'm not killing anyone."

"I would never ask you to Harry," Kingsley was glad Harry had agreed, but could also see the hurt in his eyes. "You have 30 minutes to be ready; we have to be out before the anti-apparition charms go up."

"Can I see my friends?" Harry wanted to see them more than anything to see Ginny, to tell her he was sorry for what he had done, and what he was about to do.

"Unfortunately, the media has beaten you to them, and we can't allow you to be seen by a camera. Even your image is dangerous to the stability of the Ministry." Harry sighed deeply, and Kingsley patted him on the shoulder and stepped out. Harry had immediately picked up a pen, written three letters, and had slid them under Ron's pillow before gathering his things and stepping away from that life for good.

Harry looked up from the swirls in his coffee at the boy with long blond hair who was knocking on the glass door, a tray of breakfast in his other hand. "Come on out Jacques," Harry gestured for him to join him at the small table.

Ginny sat on the edge of her bed. The shades were drawn over her windows. She looked at the tearstained piece of parchment in her hands, reading the story it told over and over again, wishing it not to be true.

Ginny-

I am leaving for Paris today. Kingsley won't allow me to see you, because of some stupid cameras, but I want you to know that I'm not leaving you again because I don't love you, but because I do. All I have done in these past few years has been because I love you, and I will never rest while there are people who want to hurt you still roaming this world. That is why I am doing this. Kingsley has forbidden me from contact with anyone at home because 'letters can be intercepted' or some other bullshit. One day, when this turmoil is over, maybe I can come home, and maybe you'll wait for me. Maybe you won't. Dean never did this to you. Find someone who will make you happy. Go Ginny, be happy.

Love,

Harry

The door eased open, and her mother stepped into the room, looking with her compassionate eyes at her poor lovesick daughter. "Ginny, you and I both know that as long as there is evil, Harry will be the first one to step up, and we both know that that is one of the reasons you love him." Ginny had crawled against her mother, who looped her arm around the girl, comforting her.

"I, I just don't understand why he has to protect me from so far away, h- he could surely do a better j- job from right, right here couldn't he?" Ginny sobbed into her mother's chest.

"Ginny, anyone he has ever been close to has been torn away from him, he loves you, and he refuses to let anything hurt you, and that means, in his mind, he has to keep distant." But in her head, Mrs. Weasley still questioned Harry's actions.

"Hey, Hey Harry!" Jacques was shouting up the stairs from the office.

"What! I'm in the shower!" Harry often appreciated having his young, what had Kingsley called him, 'protégé' around, but sometimes his exuberance wore thin on Harry's patience.

"Well hurry! We got a hit!" Harry snapped to attention, finishing his shower and dressing at lightning speed, pulling his shirt over his head as he rushed down the narrow spiral stairs. In the office, Jacques was practically jittering. While Harry knew he would be lost without the blond 15 year-old's spirit, sometimes the energy became a little much.

"Calm down. Do we know who it is?" Harry was all business now, ready to bring down another magical criminal, this one, would be his fifth hit, and he was hoping for a fifth capture. He scanned the various mirrors and enchanted maps, watching as they relayed both magical and muggle surveillance. In the center of the room was Harry's pride and joy, a huge map of Western Europe, reverse engineered from the Marauder's Map, which showed the location of any points of interest. There was a new little flag, just outside of Paris, that had been tagged in gold and orange, designating it both a definitive magical crime, and also one of high priority.

"No, sir, but it does seem like we should investigate."

"I'll be the judge of that," Harry was scanning the report. Triple murder. No obvious cause of death. Strange snake symbol found on one's wrist. Definitely worth checking out. "Alright, grab your gear, let's go," They slipped out into the alley behind Harry's apartment and, turning once on the spot, disappeared.

Ron grunted as he lifted the huge box of fireworks onto the shelf. When he had volunteered to help George and Percy around the shop; this was not what he had envisioned. "Bloody hell, what are these fireworks made of?" He hollered at his brothers.

"Ah, those would be Weasley Specials, all the power of a one ton bomb in a single firework. Weighs about the same too," George hollered back, and Percy chuckled. Ron was amazed at how different Percy was. He had quit his Ministry job to support his brother after the battle, and the effect on him was tremendous. He had turned into almost as bad a prankster as George was.

"Hey, we pay you to lift, not day dream about your know-it-all girlfriend, stupid," Percy was yelling at him.

"You don't pay me. And you've got no room to talk about being a know-it-all, head boy," Ron shouted back, as he continued stacking boxes in the 'experimental' section of the store. Above him was a huge sign that read "Experiments: Probably not Dangerous," the twin's- George's- sense of humor was legendary around these parts.

"He's got you there brother," George slapped Percy on the back. The three were making final preparations for their grand re-re-opening, what with the first one being spoiled by their angry mother, much to the disappointment of every teenage wizard in London. "Anywho, I just finished the last batch of new, improved love potions, and that sets us right on schedule to be late for the grand opening!" He remarked with pride. They all laughed. It was good to have something to laugh about, especially after Harry's abrupt disappearance. The Burrow had been a cry fest for two weeks since Harry had left. Ginny had been continually sobbing, which caused Mrs. Weasley to sob. Fleur was sobbing just to sob. Hell, even Hermione, usually so stoic, had cried a little. Actually, a lot. It was mildly annoying to Ron, he hadn't run off, but he remained unnoticed as the great Harry Potter disappeared. He couldn't lie to himself too; he missed Harry just as much as anyone else.

Harry and Jacques approached the home where the crime had been reported. The distinct lack of muggle police put the two boys on their guard. They slid their wands out, and Harry pushed the door open. The two moved like a well-oiled machine, searching for any sign of life. Harry rounded a corner and was greeted by a bolt of lightning, which shattered a chair behind him. Jacques grabbed his shoulder and shielded them both, freeing Harry up to throw curses at their target. With their combined assault, the man dropped to the floor, comatose and the team began to secure the area for the death eater's imminent extraction to Azkaban. "Good work Jacques, you're getting quick with that shield charm," Harry was proud of the kid, he felt like Jacques' father now, more than his mentor.

"Thanks, I guess I do have the best teacher," Jacques grinned.

"Thank you,"

"I was talking about experience," Harry lightly smacked the kid in the back of the head, as a friendly reprimand.

"Enough of your cheek, let's go grab some food."

"Cool, I'm always down for food that I don't have to cook," Jacques joked about it, but they both secretly knew he loved cooking. And he was damn good at it to boot.

A/N: The first chapter of my first story. It probably won't be my magnum opus, but I hope you enjoy. Reviews are greatly appreciated, I'll take any comments or constructive criticisms I can get (operative word: constructive), I want to know what you think.