Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter or any of the characters in canon.

Italics - Said by Harry himself.

A/N: I've decided to change a few major points in my planning of this fic, so i'm rewriting the whole fic again. The prologue stays the same but the direction will be changed a little. Will update once i've read through the next chapter and decide it's ready to be publicized.

39 years old Harry potter smiled and waved as he watched the Hogwarts Express pull away from the platform. When the train was no more than a speck in the distance, he slowly allowed his smile to wane as he stared blankly, watching the crowd disperse around him. Releasing the breath that he didn't notice that he was holding, he ran his hand through the messy locks of his still-unruly hair, pushing down the emptiness in his heart that threatened to overwhelm him again.

Something's wrong with me.

"Harry? It's time to go now."

Turning to look beside him, he gave a small smile to Hermione and nodded his head, slowly turning around to join his long-term best friends on their trek back to work.

Lately, he have been feeling this odd sense of emptiness inside him, it was like something that was once there was lost and that he could never get it back. He was sure it wasn't from the loss of Ginny when she passed away two years ago in a Quidditch accident. Instead, he had started to doubt himself as to whether he truly loved her from his heart with her death. He felt strangely... empty. He did feel a little sense of loss, but that was from the loss of something constant in his life.

No, this feeling was there even before the loss of Ginny. If he could actually point it out, he would almost be assured that it started during the day when he finally defeated Voldemort.

At the beginning, he wondered if it was due to the loss of the Elder Wand which he had discarded, but he quickly dismissed that idea as he didn't have this feeling before he was the master of death.

Then he wondered if it was because he had died once, which caused him to feel the after effects of having met with death, but without anyone else whom he is aware of to share the experience with, and he definitely do not want to try it out with any of his friends, he had no way of finding it out.

Another was that it was due to the loss of a motive in his life, since he have been living his entire life with the goal of destroying Voldemort. Hell, even when he wasn't aware, his life have been brought into chaos by that damn Voldie, and the moment that he died, everything that he had probably lived for was gone.

He wasn't sure what was happening to him, but the fact that it all happened when Voldemort died was definite. That everything he had lived for was gone was definite too. He ceased feeling any extreme emotions after that, not even when his children was born or when he married Ginny, neither when he lost Ginny. The things that should be the most important in his life, he still couldn't feel anything.

Except one thing...

If he was honest to himself, there was one aspect of his life that he was certain that it was growing strong as time passed. It seemed to pulse all the way from inside the core of his magic, beckoning him to do something. It had seemed stronger when his hand gripped tight around his wand. Clenching his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut, the tightness around his chest slowly easing as he apparated back into his room.

He had lied to both Ron and Hermione. He wasn't going back to the ministry today. He had something else to do. Thinking back, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, he just felt like he should be here. Alone. Especially since all the children were finally back at Hogwarts and everyone else was at work. No one could stop him now. Looking back down at his wand, it was like his body and magic knew what to do next. Kneeling down on the carpet floor before his bed, he pointed the wand to his chest, steeling his grip as he said the words he had been yearning to say for 22 years.

"Avada Kedavra"

A dusty blond haired woman stood right outside the door peering in, her dazed eyes slowly sliding into focus as tears threatened to fall, as she felt her eyes drawn towards the glassy green eyes before her, a shade so alike the killing curse that she had seen mere seconds ago. Taking a step back, she felt the sudden warp in the air that seemed to come from the body that was once her dear friend before her. Tears started pooling down her eyes; she took a deep breath and tried to still her trembling lips as she said the few words she felt that she should have said long ago.

"I'm sorry Harry... if only... I was stronger 28 years ago..."

"Good luck, Harry."

Eyes drifting open, the little boy bundled up in blankets instinctively huddled deeper into the warmth, hands rubbing against the letter beside him. Finally registering his surroundings, he clenched and unclenched his shivering hands in an attempt to keep them warm. The bright green eyes shone in the dead of the night, however, if one bothered to look closer, they would have noticed the lone tear that travelled down his cheeks and the way his eyes looked, weary with age.