Chapter One: The Forest of Dean

Later Harry would say it was because of the questions. The never-ending questions, that no matter how polite or cruel he was he could not escape. That wasn't the truth, but it was the easiest answer when asked the questions of why he decided to leave, what started all of this, what made him decide to go on a trip. The reality was he'd left because of a mixture of things. The questions were only one part of it. The other parts were more complicated.

But how could he explain that he had to leave because Ginny didn't understand what it meant when he said he needed to be alone? How could he explain the lack of silence in his mind? And the way his thoughts raced so quickly he saw the entire war flash through his mind sometimes several times in one day? How could he tell anyone that Ron and Hermione, though they'd been there, had not ever truly understood why Harry could not see the sun ever again in the same way they could? And how that had become less and less of something to be understood than something to be envied and resented?

How could he explain he'd realized he needed the trip? Needed it more than he needed a flat with Ginny in London or an Auror position at the Ministry or even a good counsellor? The truth was, once he'd decided to go on the trip, he could think of little else and, though he tried more than once to reason himself out of it, it truly sounded like the right thing to do.

What had finally made him decide to leave was not, however, anything that flipped in his own mind. It was the night he finally snapped on Ginny.

She'd come home late one night from Quidditch practice. She'd very quickly gotten a place on the Hollyhead Harpies all-women Quidditch team after the war. She'd wanted to get back out into the world. Her way of moving on was literally moving on, pretending what had happened never had and not talking about it. This was another one of the reasons this happened: Harry needed to talk about it and Ginny had forbidden it.

The very first day they'd moved into the London flat – that Harry had not wanted to move into and had regretted agreeing to it from the moment the word "yes" had left his lips – Ginny had turned around on the spot, setting the box she'd been holding down on the floor before she did so. When she finished spinning, she clutched Harry's lapels and kissed him. When she pulled away, she said, "This place is perfect. We can forget about everything here and begin our lives as adult wizards!"

She said this excitedly and, at the time, a part of Harry had truly believed her. Maybe here he could forget about the past, he could move on, he could do exactly what she was suggesting. However, as the months passed and his nightmares didn't go away and he kept putting off applying for an Auror position, it became clearer and clearer to both himself and Ginny that that wasn't going to happen.

Ginny grew annoyed with him, telling him if he just didn't think about it and applied for an Auror position like he wanted that his problems would all go away, but that was the problem to begin with. Harry couldn't find it in himself to care about finding work or applying for a job, but at the same time, when faced with the prospect, he knew he couldn't just apply for something he would hate. Then he'd never go anyway.

It was when he'd had this realization that he'd suddenly become terrified. If he couldn't work, what was he going to do? Ginny couldn't do this all on her own and, while wizards tended to live off the Muggle grid, they still needed income of some sort. They had to buy groceries at Muggle stores and for that they still needed wizarding money to change to Muggle money at Gringotts for their grocery shopping.

As they had to start living more and more frugally, Ginny became less and less patient with Harry's inability to work. She frequently tried to guilt him into it or explain to him that she couldn't be doing this all on her own and while Harry understood and agreed with her, he still couldn't figure out how to explain what was holding him back.

The pressure became too much. Ginny's nagging, his own self-loathing, the realization there was something so broken in him he could not work. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and he snapped. Harry left the flat one morning and wandered around Muggle London. On impulse, he stopped at the Leaky Cauldron and did something he'd never done before: he ordered a drink. He wasn't even sure what it was called. He hadn't really looked at the menu when he'd pointed the title out to Tom the bartender, but when he finished the first drink, he ordered another. And another. And another.

Harry hadn't ever really been drunk before, but he decided very quickly that he liked the feeling. He vaguely wondered if wizarding alcohol was different from Muggle alcohol, but also decided quickly he didn't particularly care. He stayed at the Leaky Cauldron until the pub closed and then he went home. He didn't know if he could buy alcohol from Tom or if the Leaky Cauldron even sold alcohol you could take with you, but Harry was plenty drunk enough by the time Tom asked him politely to leave.

Stumbling home, Harry didn't know what time it was. He knew it was dark out and he knew that it seemed to take him twice as long to get home as usual. When he flipped on the lights, Ginny was sitting there looking livid. When she saw the state he was in, her fury increased.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" she asked, sounding surprisingly calm despite how thinly pressed her lips were.

Harry didn't answer. He couldn't see a clock anywhere. He felt it was pretty obvious he had no idea what the time was. However, he had the good sense not to say this.

"It's almost midnight, Harry," Ginny said, sounding exasperated when he didn't answer her. "Midnight! I've been home, waiting for you, for six hours. And now that you're finally home, I find out you've been out getting drunk? What the hell else have you been doing?"

Again, Harry didn't answer. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to explain himself. He didn't know how to tell Ginny that she didn't understand him without making her angrier. He didn't know how to get her to actually listen to him. He heard her yelling at him, but he didn't really register the words. He just felt his own fury and outrage and envy increase, until he shouted, "DO YOU REALLY THINK I LIKE BEING THIS WAY?!"

He was so loud Ginny stopped speaking immediately.

There was a crash as everything fell back to its surfaces. He'd made everything around him levitate for a moment. But he hardly noticed. He was shaking with fury now.

"I NEVER ONCE IN MY LIFE THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN, GINNY!" he half screamed. "I THOUGHT I'D BE ABLE TO DO WHAT YOU DO! I THOUGHT I WOULD BE ABLE TO FORGET! BUT I CAN'T FORGET! AND YOU WON'T TALK ABOUT IT!"

Ginny was silent, staring at him in shock, looking at him as though she were seeing him for the first time. Harry didn't notice the tears of frustrated rage trembling in his eyes. Not until they fell to the floor, clearing his blurred vision. He swiped angrily at his eyes, struggling to calm down. Once he finally had, he said what he knew he should have weeks ago when the idea first came to him.

"I'm going on a trip. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I need…I need to get away. I can't be here anymore."

He didn't explain further, but Ginny didn't ask for any more of an explanation. He didn't know how she felt about it and, frankly, he didn't really care. For the past several months, she hadn't tried to understand what he was going through and, to be fair, he hadn't really tried to understand what she was going through either. But something had to change. They couldn't go on this way. And the only thing Harry could think to do was go on his trip.

I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I need…I need to get away.

That was true. He didn't know how long he'd be gone and he did need to get away.

He couldn't sit here suffocating in a universe that didn't understand him.

As Harry packed for his trip, shoving the tent he, Ron, and Hermione had used during their hunt for the Horcruxes into his rucksack along with his wand and a couple of books, he thought about Ginny and how different his feelings had been for her before the end of the war. Then, all he could think of was her. She was what kept him going through his search for the Horcruxes and it was her he'd wanted most to protect during the final battle at Hogwarts. But after the war, after Voldemort was dead, after the battle, something inside him changed. At first, he did still feel that way about Ginny. She was what he'd survived for and now he was going to experience a happy life with her. But when she'd suggested they move in together so quick and as their experience of living together became more and more dismal and toxic, his feelings for her dissipated. By the time he was packing for his trip, when he thought of Ginny, he didn't think of her as the love of his life as he once had. He thought of her as his little sister, someone he cared for, but didn't want to be with romantically. Not anymore.

I don't know how long I'll be gone.

Harry was slowly beginning to realize that even when he did come back, he wouldn't be coming back here. He cared more about Ginny than that. They both deserved someone who could love and understand them. It had taken him two years, but Harry had come to realize he no longer loved nor understood Ginny. It was time to move on.

He left before the sun was up the next morning. He took his clothes and his things and was gone. There were a few things he left behind, but otherwise it appeared as though only one person lived in that flat. There was no indication that someone else had ever occupied the small space.

Harry Apparated out of the city from an alleyway near the apartment complex to the outskirts of a small village that was just outside the Forest of Dean. It was the first place that came to his mind. He thought of the way the trees had sparkled with snow the last time he'd been there with Hermione and wondered how the forest would look with the trees topped in bright green.

He wondered also how it would feel to be there alone.

He was almost excited at the prospect.

Harry had never been that alone. He'd always been within easy reach of other people, but that would change once he got into the forest. True, he could always Apparate to the village if he needed to see a human face, but for all intents and purposes, when he wasn't in the village, he would be well and truly alone.

As he walked through the village, looking in the tiny shop windows and peering into pubs, wondering at stopping in before heading into the forest, he walked with a lightness that he'd not felt in months. Maybe not ever. He was away from everything he knew. No one here knew his name or who he was. It was freeing. He could do whatever he wanted and no one would ridicule him for it in a newspaper later.

Still, Harry didn't want to go into any of the pubs or shops. He didn't want to risk the end of anonymity. There were wizards everywhere and if there were any in this village, they would recognize him. No, it was best to go straight into the forest. If he needed food later, he knew where this was. He could always Apparate back to steal from their stores. He had his Invisibility Cloak. Maybe he should be worried he was so willing to steal from people who couldn't really stop him, but a part of him felt entitled to it. These people had no idea what he'd done for them to keep them safe. The least they could do was give him some food they wouldn't even miss.

It was the end of March. The leaves hadn't quite come out yet, but he could see buds on the branches of the trees as he walked into the copse of trees not far from the village. There were some wildflowers growing near the bases of the trees as well and in the field between the village and the start of the forest. The forest was huge. It completely covered the horizon and went as far as the eye could see in any direction.

The sight made Harry smile. It was the perfect place to get lost.

No one will find me here.

As he thought it, he realized that was what he wanted: to be alone. So alone that no one would figure out where he was, no one would come find him, no one would talk to him. Hedwig was dead, so no one could even send messages to him. He was sure that, if they wanted to, Ron and Hermione could send messages to him, but he had a feeling that once Ginny told them what had happened, they would understand that he wanted time alone and wouldn't bother him. Or so he hoped. Hermione might understand that, but he wasn't as sure about Ron. Ron wasn't good with emotion and, it was turning out, his sister wasn't either. Both of them could only understand what was put in front of them, what they had already experienced. They couldn't understand what they personally had never before encountered.

Harry didn't resent Ron or Ginny for that. It just meant that he couldn't be with Ginny romantically. Not anymore.

The deeper Harry went into the forest, the darker it got, but it wasn't like the Forbidden Forest where eventually the leaves cut out all light completely. It just got a little darker, so it looked as though it were a cloudy day rather than a clear one. It was at about this point that Harry found a clearing and decided to stop there for the night. He set out the tent, trying to remember how Hermione had done it all the times they'd camped out when searching for Horcruxes. After an hour, he finally figured it out and after an hour more, he had caught some fish in a nearby stream and was roasting it over a fire he'd made.

He'd used magic for all of this and it felt freeing doing it out in the open. There was no one here to see him anyway. He might as well do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted. Who knew how long it would last? A part of him was certain that at any moment he would receive an owl from somebody telling him he had to come back to civilization, he had to come back to reality and deal with some new problem that had arisen.

He would go back, of course. He was the wizarding world's savior, now and forever, and Harry Potter couldn't say no when asked to continue saving it. But as he sat there, eating his slightly overcooked fish, staring into the darkness as he watched sparks from his fire fly up to the stars, he wished he could. He was taking a long overdue vacation. By himself. Even for a few days, he thought, they could leave him alone.

Harry ate three fish before he decided he was full. Then he put out his fire and stared up into the dark at the stars. There were so many more here than there were in London. He and Ginny had a balcony in their flat, but every time he'd gone out on it to look up at the stars, he'd only ever been able to see just the brightest ones. Now, out here in the middle of nowhere, he could see them, the bright and dim stars alike. There were more than he'd ever seen before in his life and he was in awe of the dazzling dark.

Harry blinked and remembered vaguely the one time he'd suggested to Ginny they take their broomsticks and fly out into the middle of nowhere, just so they could stare up at the stars. She hadn't thought it was stupid. Not exactly. But she'd made it very clear that it wasn't something she was interested in. He brought it up more than once, trying to convince her of what a fun idea this would be, half obsessed with the thought of it, since it was something he'd never done before. Eventually, she had gotten mean as she'd gotten tired of him asking. That was when he'd stopped.

Later he'd realized it was because she'd seen the stars so much as a child, she didn't see what the big deal was now. The Burrow was far enough out in the middle of nowhere that there were plenty of stars to see on any given night if all of the lights were put out. Even the nearby village couldn't give off enough light to block out the light of the stars. But Harry, who had grown up in the city with the Dursleys, had never seen the stars, not the way Ginny had. So again, she hadn't understood what was so special about them.

A twig broke to Harry's left and he jumped. It was pitch black in the forest now, so dark he couldn't hold his hand up in front of his face and still see it. The moon was not bright enough for that tonight and the stars were bright only in the context of the dark sky around them. That was why he had not noticed how dark it was around him: he'd been staring up at the sky, but now, looking around him, he felt apprehensive. Why had he thought it was a good idea for him, Harry Potter, to go to a forest alone without putting up any sort of protective spells? There were still dark wizards in the world. He was not completely safe. Voldemort supporters still lurked.

Another twig broke and Harry jumped to his feet and pulled out his wand.

"Who is there?"

The forest was silent, betraying nothing. Harry's eyes darted all around, trying to make out something in the darkness, trying to discern who or what had made the twigs crack. Then he heard the leaves rustle and more twigs crack. He whipped his wand around, trying to figure out where exactly the noise was coming from, but still he saw nothing.

Then a white figure emerged from the trees. It looked like a ghost and Harry raised his wand, pointing it at the figure, determined to destroy it should it pose a threat, but then it spoke and the voice it used was one Harry was familiar with, one he hadn't expected to hear out in the middle of nowhere.

"Harry Potter? Is that you?" Luna Lovegood asked. She walked into the dim patch of light shining in Harry's clearing, but it wasn't enough to see more than just the shape of her, just enough to tell her pale white hair was much longer than he'd ever seen it and she was wearing a thin white sleeveless dress with equally thin white straps, hanging it from her thin shoulders.

He watched her tilt her head to one side, but he could see nothing else, no expression. He didn't like it. Not because he didn't trust her, but because he didn't like not being able to see the emotions on anyone. After living with the Dursleys, he'd learned it was important to be able to see what others were thinking to gauge their reactions. He raised his wand, this time away from her, in a less threatening gesture and murmured, "Lumos!"

The clearing lit up in the silvery light of his wand and instantly he could see Luna much more clearly.

She looked different than she had the last time he'd seen her. Her white blonde hair was very long and yet, surprisingly clean. He had a feeling she magicked it clean, there was no other way to keep such long hair looking so nice. The dress she wore looked like a sundress mixed with a nightgown. It was made of nightgown-ish fabric, but styled like a sundress. She wasn't wearing any shoes and she appeared to be much thinner than he'd ever seen her, as though she hadn't been eating very much of anything. She looked like a nymph or rather something like a Muggle painter might depict a nymph.

For the first time since he'd met her when he was fifteen, he truly appreciated how beautiful she was.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her before he could stop himself.

Luna, who had been moving slowly towards him, seemed taken aback by the question. She stopped moving and was silent for a long time, but when she spoke again it was not to answer. It was to ask a question of her own: "Are you sure you want to stay in that tent? I have someplace much more comfortable, if you would like."

She smiled then, but it wasn't the smile Harry had seen on her face before. It looked more…defeated was the only word he could think of. And as she turned to lead him to…wherever it was she was staying, her posture and movement suggested defeat as well.

Harry left the tent where it was, doubting that anyone would come upon it and thinking he could come get it in the morning. But that wasn't really what was on his mind as he held his wand aloft for both of them, leading the way through the forest. He found himself focusing more and more on Luna, her appearance, her expressions, her movements. It was all very different from the Luna he'd met when he was fourteen. He wondered when this had changed, if she'd been like this at Hogwarts and he'd just never noticed.

Something has happened to her, he thought. And then a worse thought came to mind.

Someone has hurt her.

And then a strange thought came to mind, one he didn't expect and which hardly sounded like his own. In fact, he felt almost certain the voice wasn't his own and had come to him from some otherworldly source, giving him the information he needed when he needed it.

Memories have hurt her. Yes, someone has hurt her, but memories have too.

Memories? He thought, stepping around a fallen log. All he had were his wand and Invisibility Cloak. How could memories hurt her this badly?

But even as he thought it, he knew it was hypocritical. He wouldn't be here if it were not.

NOTE: ok so! i'm working on this fanfic right now. i'm praying to holy god i finish it. i have no outline for a reason and i'm just writing what comes to me. i have a general idea, but no sort of definitive plan of how to get there. anyway, i hope y'all like this! as always pls read and review!