Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

Harry sighed as he watched another one of his school friends kiss at the alter. It had been five years since he had killed Voldemort and something had changed.

All his life he had strived to be normal, to be something other than the Dursley's freak nephew, other than the teenage delinquent, the Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore's puppet, the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Now at the age of twenty-two he had accepted his place in the world, but he still didn't fit. People either revered him for his accomplishments or feared his awesome power.

Still things were different; he and his friends had grown apart. Even he, Ron and Hermione were distant, they were starting their family now. Though they had grown apart years ago after the final battle when Harry had given an interview and told the world that Ron and Hermione had planned the battle even though he had fought it. After that they were considered the brains of the war, Ron was now Minister of Magic and Hermione Headmistress of Hogwarts. Both were positions he had been expected to take after the war. Even Draco Malfoy had switched sides, become the Dark Arts Professor and married Ginny Weasley.

He had no interest in marrying or becoming an Auror. He had no idea what to do with the rest of his life. Remus and Sirius had both died in the war. He had family; even now he was detached from his world.

He had a darkness inside him one that would never go away. And now as watched as Neville and Luna left the temple on Hogwarts grounds, the joy shining on their faces, he knew he could never have this, because no matter what happened he would always have a constant pain radiating his scar, he would always wake up screaming in the night and he could never forget all the death that the second war had cost.

One week later he had his affairs in order. He entered Hogwarts grounds through the Shrieking Shack. When he arrived in the entrance hall he slipped into a room of to the dungeons and slipped into the private rooms of Salazar Slytherin. Once in the Chamber of secrets he poured part of his powers into the wards of the school. He traveled the school silently slipping in to the quarters of the Founders' and adding power to their wards. Finally he was finished, he sighed, this had been the first place that felt like home.

Only three more things to do he thought as he walked up countless flights of stairs. When he reached the owlry he sent out letters.

Then as he was walking down the stairs he opened the map and looked for something, there in the third floor corridor. He moved through the shadows quickly. When he arrived on the third floor he pulled out the map and dropped it on the ground. The two prankster that were walking in his direction would find it soon enough.

Then he went to the corridor near the kitchens and pushed open a room, forcing the castle to change with what was left of his magic. The room was made out of grey marble, around the room were candles and then floating near the ceiling were small glass bubbles depicting scenes from his life. In the centre of the room rose a huge slab of marble, on top of which sat a large crystal coffin. He straightened his robes, green and black, and then he pulled a tiny vial of black liquid that had been with him since he was eleven and had fought with Quirrel.

Two of us are killers, waiting hidden in the line.

Poison that he had stolen from Professors Snape's challenge.

He quickly took the one gulp and banished the as he climbed into the coffin. As he felt his sight grow dim he used the very last speck of magic in him to carve words into the front of the slab.

I was destined to save the Wizarding World from Voldemort, and I did, and the world was saved, but not for me. I could save everyone but myself and those who matter most.

His body lay in that room, till the end of Hogwarts and the Wizarding World.