Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything related to him do not belong to me

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything related to him do not belong to me. Don't I wish they did.

The Trail

I am following The Man with the Lightning Scar. A man that my father calls "friend", though they haven't spoken in thirty years. A man who has faced evil in its most powerful form and won. A man who has saved the world on more than one occasion. A man who has become such a legend within his own lifetime that many of my generation think of Him as a fairy-tale, a myth. A man that I have never seen yet would recognize immediately.

I have called Him "The Man with the Lightning Scar" from very early into my journey. I had been traveling for about a month when I came to a small village where He had been. That is the name given to Him by an old, nearly deaf woman that I met there. It was difficult to make her understand anything that I said, but eventually she answered my questions and pointed me in the right direction. The title she gave Him stayed in my mind and managed to replace His proper name. It seems more fitting, somehow.

I follow Him on foot; I'm not sure why. Perhaps it is because that is the way in which He travels. It somehow seems unfair to claim the advantage of a train or even a broomstick when He, who is so much more powerful, does not. Perhaps I am a fool. It's very possible. I know that my brothers and sisters all think so. But my father is unable to make the journey himself, and he asked me to do this for him. I want to do it right.

It makes some sort of sense that I should be the one entrusted with this mission, as it was I who was given the name of the one who caused the split between the two friends- my father and The Man with the Lightning Scar. She did nothing wrong, and yet her actions led to a division not easily mended. While they were still in school together, she sacrificed her own life to save both of theirs, her two closest friends. Her selfless death, and the resultant victory over the evil forces at work, tore the two boys apart rather than bringing them closer together. They both felt such guilt that they had survived when their friend had been killed that each was unable to face the other. But now my father needs Him. And I am the one who must bring them back together.

-----

I feel that I am getting closer. The air is filled with an electricity that I have never felt before. The leaves seem to rustle in excitement and I take each step with anticipation. I have been on this trail for nearly a year. I wonder if I am getting better at the chase, or if He is slowing down. I wonder if He wants to be found. I believe that He must, or else He would not leave clues for me to find. More and more people of the people that I question are able to give me answers. More and more of the proximity spells that I cast give affirmative answers. Eagerly I await the time when my journey is completed. Will I know what to say?

-----

I see a small cottage before me. The time is nearly twilight; the fireflies are beginning to come out. There is no other building within sight. Somehow I know that my quest is nearly over. Inside that cottage is the man whom I have been following, The Man with the Lightning Scar. I approach cautiously, raise my hand to knock. But before I am able to touch the wooden door, I hear one word.

"Come."

I turn the knob and the door opens noiselessly. At long last, I see Him. He is standing at the other end of the small room, facing the fireplace, His back towards me. His hands are resting on the mantel; His head is down, looking at the blazing fire that warms the cottage on this cool autumn evening. He does not turn to look at me as I step across the threshold. Instead, he speaks, again only one word.

"Hermione."

It does not surprise me that He knows my name. It would have surprised me had He not. I could easily believe that such a man knows everything. I address Him, by His real name.

"Harry Potter."

Now He turns. I see black hair, piercing green eyes, a small sad smile. And on His forehead, the scar- His souvenir, His proof that He has survived the worst trial that the world can produce to test Him. He looks tired, as if He has had to live through twice as much as any other person alive. However, when I look at Him, I feel safe. His aura is one of security and confidence. It is easy to understand why so many people don't believe that He ever really existed. Even seeing Him now, He seems too real to be real. I can't explain it in words. I won't try.

A few seconds pass, then He take a few steps closer to me. He examines me closely.

"You look exactly like your Aunt Ginny."

And then I know that everything is going to be all right.

Finis