Written for the QLFC, Semi-Finals

Team: Pride of Portree

Beater 2 Prompt: "Carry On My Wayward Son"-Supernatural

Optional Prompts:

10. [quote] 'Maybe that's part of the nightmare, having just enough freedom thrown at you to tempt you, knowing it's an illusion.' — Grace & Fury, Tracy Banghart

13. [quote] 'This need to prove that we are not the worst of ourselves can sometimes make us better people.' — Before Mars, Emma Newman

Word count (not including AN): 1019

Wayward Sons and Their Wanderings

Harry Potter was lost.

Two months after the end of the war, he was still wandering aimlessly. Hermione had written him every day, worried that he hadn't taken the end of the war well enough to be alone "only Merlin knows where."

He wasn't.

Harry was sick of it. It was as if the last seven years finally hit him all at one time. No, not just seven. Eighteen. Harry's whole life was one tragedy after another, each one more painful than the last. His parents' deaths. The Dursleys' abuse. The painfully ignorant teachers in school. And all those years at Hogwarts. Voldemort, while the most apparent, was not the only, nor the most dangerous, threat. Voldemort had merely wanted him dead.

There were worse things than death.

Harry,

Are you okay? Hermione won't tell me anything, and no one else knows where you are. Not even Ron.

Come back to me, Harry. If something's wrong, I'll help you. You don't have to be alone!

It wasn't Ginny's fault that she didn't understand. Though she had lost Fred, she still had her parents and other siblings. Ron too.

Hermione could understand a bit better, but not completely. Though she still hadn't recovered her parents' memories, they were safe. Harry and Ron had made sure of that.

Molly had tried to force Harry to come home with her, and he did for a time. However, he felt stifled with the Weasleys. It felt like he was looking at a picture of something he could never have.

A taste of happiness...of freedom. Just enough to hurt when it was taken away.

Harry refused. He wouldn't be hurt like that again. Life with the Dursleys should have been better than an orphanage or foster family. Hogwarts should have been safe. Sirius should have been there. Kids should not have had to fight in a war.

He had left the Burrow, no word on his destination. Hermione's new owl, though, was like his owner: smart and intuitive. No matter where Harry decided to rest, the bird found him every time. Of course, Harry never sent back his location, but that didn't matter. The owl never failed to visit daily.

Harry was back in Godric's Hollow. Using a clever disguise, he had rented out a small room near his parents' destroyed home, and he visited the tomb of James and Lily Potter daily. If asked, he was a distant cousin of Lily's who was just passing through the area. No one questioned him.

Mum, Dad...The words felt odd on his lips...I'm sorry. I'm sorry you died because of me. I'm sorry I was responsible for Sirius's death, and Remus's. I never meant for any of this to happen. Harry didn't cry. There was nothing left inside for him to cry. I can't let the Weasleys and Hermione become family. It'd kill me if anything happened to them, especially if they're actually family. He thought of Ginny, then shook his head. He couldn't let that happen.

"Self-pity, Potter? I thought you were too noble for that." Harry spun around quickly to see who had found him. Of course… Hermione smiled at him and knelt beside him. Sternly, she grabbed his chin and looked into his eyes. "What is shooting through that head of yours, hmm?"

Harry jerked away, annoyed that she'd found him and seen through his disguise. "Why are you here, Hermione?"

Hermione picked a weed growing near here. "I'm here to find you, Harry. Though I'll admit, this is a bit obvious. I was just giving you some time."

"How'd you see through my disguise?"

"A distant cousin of Lily Potter? All I had to do was ask if there were any of the Potters left in the area. The only relative anyone could think of was the old man who visits his cousin's grave every single day. We have got to work on subtlety, Harry." She looked into his eyes again. "Now, what's going on?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, Hermione."

She sighed. "Let me guess: You're alone, you have no family to turn to, and if you allow yourself to be accepted into another family, they'll leave you as well."

Baffled that she had reduced his entire argument to a single sentence, Harry frowned. "It's more than that."

"Then enlighten me, Harry. If you truly want to be alone, if you don't want a family, I'll leave. I won't tell anyone where you are. I'll ignore Ginny's threats to follow my owl here, and I'll tell Ron that you can't be found. I'll stop writing to you."

But did he want that? Harry was on his last leg; he couldn't stand all of the loss he had experienced in the last decade. He didn't need…

Maybe he didn't need a family. However, as sure as he knew his name, Harry Potter knew that he wanted one. Maybe not a wife and kids anytime soon, but he did know that Ron and Hermione, as well as their families, would be as much a family as he'd ever really had. He looked over at Hermione.

"Harry, you've fought for too long. You've had to be our hero your whole life, even if you didn't know you were. No more, Harry. Be you for a while. If you want to be an Auror, do it. But if you don't, don't let anyone convince you otherwise. You don't owe any of us anything. I promise. Rest, Harry. Please."

At her earnest plea, Harry nodded. "I just...I always feel as if I get close to happiness, then it's stripped away. I know I'm happy with you and Ron, but I mean a restful happiness, one that I don't have continuously fret over."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I can't say I know completely how you feel, but maybe had you not experienced these last two decades, you'd have been just another Tom Riddle. Maybe all of this bad has produced something wonderful."

Putting his arm around his best friend, he smiled a bit for the first time. "I hope so, Hermione. I hope so."