Chapter 1 Finding Peace After War-Part One

He had done a lot in his short life of eighteen years. He had survived the impossible more than five times, so far. He had done everything possible to save himself, his friends, and, most of all, the entire world. He was one of those people who just can't stand by and watch people suffer, helping was what he was best at next to saving people.

Although he was world known by witches and wizards, he was inconceivably humble. He never thought of himself as a hero and most certainly not as a devilishly handsome young man that woman swooned at the sight of.

Harry Potter had grown up not knowing who he was. His idea of himself was a polar opposite of that which he really was. He was not that skinny kid with the baggy clothes that slept in a cupboard under the stairs. He was a wizard, plain and simple. Well not so simple or plain. He was both incredible intelligent and wickedly talented. His magical powers matched that of the most powerful dark wizard of all time.

Harry went from weak and poor to seemingly rich and strong. He was no longer the odd kid who sat in the back of the classroom. He graduated from Hogwarts only behind the brightest witch ever to live, his best friend Hermione Granger. His other best friend didn't do so well, Ron Weasley wasn't someone you would want doing magic on you. But, this never bothered Harry, Ron was a great friend no matter how smart, or, well, in his case, not so smart, he is.

Despite his troubles, Harry grew up strong and true, Never wavering a second to step in and help, or get into trouble.

After finishing school, Harry began the hardest fight of his life, one that ended terribly for everyone. But we will delve into that later in our story.

Here we join Harry in his one bedroom flat.

Harry was sitting in front of his computer thinking of where he wanted to go. The war had ended about five months ago and the memories of it still haunted his dreams. Images flashed in his mind's eye of death and destruction. All he wanted to do was to escape, escape from the memories and the battlefield that loomed about in the streets of downtown London.

He wanted to go somewhere far away, somewhere that the war had not reached either physically or by word-of-mouth. Europe and Asia were out of the question. The war had developed and ended in Eurasia. Africa and Australia seemed too close to the war for comfort and South America seemed too deserted of, well, anything. The only land left was North America.

Harry liked the idea of going to North America. He had never gotten the chance to go but he had always wanted to. But where in North America, he had no idea.

He wanted to stay close to wizards and witches but distant enough that people wouldn't recognize him. Canada was definitely not somewhere you could find magic; neither was Central America, all of the Spanish wizards had gone over to Spain to fight. America was the only country left for him to go to.

Harry looked up America on the internet. He began looking up flights to different parts of the country. He was looking for a place that was urban but not too urban. Somewhere where he could just kick back and relax, forgetting all of the terrible things that had happened in the past seven years. Big cities such as Miami, New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Las Vegas were not in line with what he wanted. Harry also didn't want to be near an ocean, lake or big river because he had never learned how to swim during his childhood with the Dursley's. He had also never learned during his school years because he was always fighting one dark plot after another. His only experience with swimming was during his fourth year when he was in the tri-wizard tournament. Except at that time he was under the influence of gillyweed, but who can't swim when they are basically a fish?

Harry's inability to swim cut out Washington to California, Maine to Florida, Florida to Texas, and Texas to California. It also eliminated Hawaii and Alaska, all of the states along the Mississippi and the states around the Great Lakes.

With all of these port states eliminated, Harry decided to go to the center of the United States. That state was Nebraska. No lakes, no big cities, plenty of urban towns and peace beyond that of any other place in the entire world.

Harry found a map on the internet of Nebraska. He looked at every town from Omaha to Lincoln, and Big Island to Newcastle. Deciding on a place to escape to, Harry looked for plane tickets. For 5,875 euros Harry could fly to Nebraska, rent a car and rent a four bedroom ranch. Tomorrow at 3:15 Harry would be on his way to peace.

Harry shut down his computer and headed for bed. He would pack in the morning when he awoke.

Harry went into his room, changed his shirt got into bed and turned off the lights. He was asleep within seconds wrapped in painful memories.

In his dream Harry saw the battlefield. It was dark and painfully quiet. The battle had ended two days ago. His fellow survivors were digging through the rubble of the Riddle mansion. So far no one had been found alive under the debris. Harry made his way over to the center of what used to be the mansion. Looking down he saw a red haired, freckled, lanky person lying on the ground. Blood poured from his nose and ears into a puddle beneath his head. His leg was bent in a 95 degree angle and his open eyes were blank. When Harry bent down to look at him, he saw his own reflection looking back. Blood trickled down his own forehead and soot covered his entire body. A tear dropped from his eye as he whispered, "Ron!"