Aftermath

Summary: After the almighty London Battle of the great WW3, Harry Potter, The-man-who-triumphed, disappeared into thin air. Where is he? Why has he abandoned the rest of the world? Is he alive?

Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine,except anything you don't recognize. Don't sue, please.

A/N: This story was originally posted by a "Silver Icicle". This was my best friend, who's computer I was using to type this story, because my family computer had crashed and we couldn't afford a new one. She decided it would be fun to post it and credit it as her own. Let me just say that she is a backstabber, and did not write this story. We're no friends anymore, and she decided it would be fun to post this story and take all the credit, when it was my work.And to prove it, I'm reposting it, and CONTINUING it, as she only had the first four chapters. Enjoy. :)

Prologue

It was a particularly dark and chilly night tonight. The full moon shone with all its strength over the small run-down village below. Dark gray clouds glided slowly above, engulfing the night sky, snatching away the usual peaceful twinkle of the bright stars. Only one star shone tonight, and it was green.

In the far distance, you could make out large puffs of dark smoke rising into the air, and disappearing, blending into the darkened sky. Just beneath them was a eerie orange glow, and screams pierced the night sky, echoing off of the mountainous valley. If you squinted hard enough, you could make out different colored jets of light shooting into the orange glow, and then fading, and with strained ears you could barely make out people shouting out words in Latin.

The whole world knew. The entire world now knew the story of the Boy-who-lived, muggle or magic. After the world war that broke loose, Wizards were forced to warn muggles. Millions were lost. The world had been left a smoky, dark graveyard.

The Spark of the war had been a battle fought in Hogsmeade, where many Death Eaters had attacked homes, and, to their delight, Harry Potter had responded immediately. Without permission of the Headmistress, and without any warning, he had burst out of Charms class, and had apparated out of the Castle, right in the middle of the battlefield. Many soon followed, and when Voldemort and his troops were forced to retreat, Voldemort had declared war.

It had been so sudden that no one, apart from Britain, had been prepared. All of Europe had been attacked within the remaining hours of the day, and that had soon spread, by the end of that week, the entire world was at war. Not one country was spared.

Hogwarts had been forced to close down and children had been evacuated quickly from the school. When the second battle in Azkaban had occurred, Light had managed to gain Azkaban as their own land, and, furiously, Voldemort had gone after Britain's neighbors, claiming all of Europe except for Britain. The world had turned into a battlefield.

The win of Azkaban had brought some calamity to the war. All women and children were rushed into Azkaban's heavily guarded Island, and a lock down had followed. Safety was not one hundred percent, but at the time, Azkaban was the safest place in the world.

Months of fighting had only caused the Dark Lord to claim almost half of the world for himself. 46 of the World's landmass became his battlefield, his training field, his play place. The Light had to act fast.

Six months into the war, and during four, Harry had not been seen anywhere, until finally, the last Battle approached.

When Voldemort's Army tried to attack London, it was Harry's turn to defend. 956,900 people died that day, including Death Eaters, and by the end, the only two left standing, were Harry and Voldemort.

Two days the two most powerful wizards battled against each other. Two days, they vainly sent powerful curses and raw energy to each other, not realizing their powers were evenly matched. But Harry had the advantage. He knew where the last two Horcruxes were, and he had left the two for last, because he knew there was only one way to kill both; by ripping them out of wherever they were using his blood, controlling them safely away from the innocent, before obliterating them. The only problem was that Harry himself had been the last Horcrux created. Voldemort had left the seventh and final part of his soul in Harry, marking him as an equal, which meant destroying the last two Horcruxes would be the most difficult, especially when it came to ripping Voldemort's soul out of his body, without managing to damage his own.

And so, as the last hours arrived, Harry collapsed into a heap, and began to chant powerfully, an ancient chant he had altered, and with the most power ever witnessed, he ripped the last two parts of Voldemort's soul out of his own and Voldemort's body, before controlling them, while unconscious, with the power of Godric, the control of his magical core, and his sacrificed blood, and smashing the two last pieces together, sending a wave of energy so strong, it had separated the two fighters, kilometers apart.

And as Harry crawled towards the body mass that was now a soulless body, he sentenced the monster to a life of pain…

Before Harry Potter disappeared into thin air.

A/N: Note, this chapter is so short, because it is the Prologue. I needed it out of the way to explain the basic plot so nobody was confused.

In the Future, chapters will be much longer. (Four to six pages instead of two), so that I can have a healthy ten chapters in total for this story.