The Harry Potter world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no money from playing in her world. Original characters are mine.

Chapter 1 - Closure

I pulled the collar of my greatcoat up around my neck as I emerged from the cab in front of 4 Privet Drive. This would be the last time I set foot in this miserable place. The cabbie grunted his thanks at the generous tip and drove off, a wave of water soaking my new jeans and trainers. My knee ached from the cold, a leftover reminder of the Battle of Hogwarts.

'Less than half an hour,' I told myself. Surely I could manage that long. It wasn't like they would miss me, nor I them. Wiping my feet carefully on the doormat, I knocked politely on the door. Aunt Petunia answered the door, a fact for which I was grateful. I had no interest in seeing Uncle Vernon again, the reason why I had chosen mid-day to retrieve what few belongings I had.

"Oh, It's you," she sneered at me. She shouldn't have been surprised. I did send a letter a week ago telling her I would be coming.

"Yes, It's me. I sent you the letter," I tried to keep my tone polite and indifferent. I was an adult now, not a petulant child. She just nodded, stepping aside.

I entered and made my way up to my room. There really wasn't much to keep. The owl stand could go; it wasn't like Hedwig would ever use it again. A twinge of sadness had me wincing as I remembered my familiar's last moments. She'd deliberately taken a killing curse for me. Another death that could be laid at Tom's door. I left all of Dudley's old hand-me-down clothing at the foot of the bed. Aunt Petunia could do whatever she liked with it; I didn't really care. I stashed six years worth of letters and birthday cards into my rucksack and scanned the room one last time. Nope, nothing else of value. I trudged downstairs, glancing at the cupboard that used to be my bedroom as I made my way into the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia was standing by the kitchen table with a cup of tea. I reached into my pocket and withdrew a check for £17,000, placing it on the table in front of her. "Here's for my room and board for the last seventeen years," I didn't even attempt to keep the sneer out of my voice this time.

I was halfway to the front door when she called me back. I hesitated a moment, considering if I should ignore her, finally I sighed and returned to the kitchen.

"I know I should have done better by you," she began. "I let my hatred and jealousy and Vernon's intolerance overrule my sense of duty and responsibility. I know it may be too late, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry." She paused and took a deep breath. "And thank you. Thank you for saving my son, even though you had no real reason to. I-" she took a sip of coffee, more emotional than I'd seen her before. "I got together all of Lily's stuff. Things you should have been given years ago. It's yours if you want it." She pointed at an old school trunk tucked under the edge of the table.

I stooped and hefted the trunk. I would shrink it down once I was away from this place. My eyes met her brown ones. "I don't know if I can ever forgive the years of abuse and neglect, but for what it's worth, I hope the rest of your life is happy." I'd decided that holding a grudge was too tiring. Let her live with her guilt and regret. She'd answer to mum in the afterlife. With one last glance around the kitchen I was so familiar with, I left Privet Drive for the last time. I had one last stop to make and then I was free. Free to leave the horror that was my life behind.

HPHPHP

My trip the the Burrow was torture. The place that had once been the closest place to home other than Hogwarts was now a place of painful memories and grief. Mrs. Weasley sat at the table, staring hopelessly into a cold cup of tea. Even now, six weeks after the battle Fleur was still caring for the Weasley household. She bustled about the kitchen, tidying up, barely glancing at me as I entered.

"How are they doing?" I whispered, glancing as Molly.

Fleur glanced at me, grabbing my arm gently and leading me outside. "Not good," she whispered. "Arthur's thrown himself into work as a way of coping. We barely see him. Molly stares into that cup of tea all day. She's refusing to eat. Percy's the only one that's been able to get her to come out of it, but he's busy rebuilding the ministry and rarely has time." She sighed. "My Bill is taking it best I think. He's helping Gringotts and the ministry with repairs. Charlie had to return to Romania. He hasn't spoken a word since he found Ginny. The healers say she may be catatonic for the rest of her life. They don't know how long Carrow had her in his office before Charlie found her; they've put her in with the Longbottoms. Ron's still trying to cope with losing his leg. He is missing Fred too I think. He and George have been hitting the firewhisky pretty hard these last weeks. He only comes out of his room to eat and use the loo," she sighed, rubbing her back. "They've lost a lot."

I nodded and handed her a bag of Galleons. "I know they won't take this from me, but take care of them will you? They are still the closest thing to family I have, even if I'm not welcome anymore." I hugged her quickly and apparated away before she could beg me to stay. Guilt flashed through me. Intellectually I knew I wasn't to blame for all of the tragedy that had befallen wizarding Britain, but true to form they needed a scapegoat and I was done playing the role. I'd left a note for Hermione in her mailbox. She'd left without a word the day after the battle to find her parents, I hadn't heard from her since.