Chapter 1

In the months that followed after the defeat of Tom Riddle, Harry Potter felt restless and listless. He had no direction in his life. What was he suppose to do now that he had done what the Wizarding world expected of him?

He was seventeen years old and lost; parents long dead, godfather lost to him behind the Veil, Cedric, his first secret crush, forever young in his heart—also dead at the wand of the now thankfully dead Dark Lord.

It was ironic that Voldemort chose Halloween of his Seventh year to attempt to bring about the downfall of Harry Potter. 'The bane of his existence would be no more the evil Snake-faced half-man had declared as he stood in the Great Hall. The Student population and the Staff were crowded behind him, under the aim of Death Eater wands. Harry faced him, but not alone. He was flanked by his closest friends; Ron, Hermione, Draco and Neville.

Albus Dumbledore lay on the ground, dead or alive, no one knew. He had collapsed when the wards fell, allowing Voldemort and his followers to enter the grounds of Hogwarts. Then moments later, the Great Hall.

The Dark Lord had taunted Harry as he always did when they came face-to-face. But this time, Harry had reached his limit. He was human after all, and being one of the most powerful wizards of the age, he was going to put an end to everyone's torment.

When the air around Harry began to swirl and pick up speed, some seemed to have the good sense to back away. As Tom's taunts continued, Harry's temper and anger rose, as did the level of power in the room. Harry reached out with his hand and squeezed, stopping Voldemort's words, causing him to grab at his own throat and gasp for air.

"You've taken everything from me. My Parents. Sirius. Cedric. Now Dumbledore—the closest thing I ever had to a grandparent. My childhood. What more do you want?! Oh Right, my life. Kill ME, and take over the world. Sounds like a plan!" Harry squeezed his fist harder. "But not today; or any other day. Today. I Take. Back. My.Life. And you--you bloody bastard, can just roast in the deepest pits of Hell!!"

He closed his eyes and concentrated his magic, reaching out. With his other hand, he waved it toward an area immediately behind his enemy, but, in front of the innocents, and yelled, "OPEN!"

A slit appeared out of thin air and, grew till it looked like an open door with nothing but sucking darkness looking back out. Harry blinked, as he remembered pulling his arm around and using his magic... to lift and hurl Tom Riddle towards the open portal, watching with glee as he disappeared into the darkness.

He didn't remember much after that... as he collapsed from magical exhaustion. He woke three days later, alone, in one of the private rooms in the Hospital Wing. He didn't know how long he lay there alone waiting for someone to come, but when Madam Pomfrey came rushing in with her usual brisk self, he let out a sigh of relief. Moments later; Ron, Hermione, along with Draco and Neville, came rushing in behind her.

"Merlin, Harry, you're finally awake!!" Ron said as he rushed up to the bed.

He listened as they told of him of the post-war happenings around Hogwarts and the Wizarding World. Classes had been canceled until the following week, the World outside the castle was celebrating the second, and final, downfall of Voldemort, and the Ministry was demanding that Harry Potter be delivered to them for questioning.

Albus Dumbledore refused to let them anywhere near Harry. It was Percy Weasley who came to them, only hours after the defeat, warning them of Fudge's plans to commit Harry to St. Mungo's psychiatric ward to keep him quiet. In the six weeks since the final battle, Harry had been kept isolated from the other students of Hogwarts, for his own safety. Especially, since Fudge had Aurors sneaking around the school, waiting for the first opportunity to nab the hero.

In his isolation, all Harry did was think about his life now; his future, that he thought he wouldn't have. He had done what they wanted, now what was he suppose to do? Being an Auror was out of the question now. He didn't feel the need to work for a corrupt Ministry or chase down dark wizards. He'd had more than his fill of death and killing.

Now it was the Christmas Hols, and the Ministry of Magic deemed it necessary that all the students of Hogwarts were to return home so the newly erected wards could be tested. When Harry accepted Molly and Arthur's invitation to come to the Burrow, he felt the first bit of happiness in a very long time. He would be with family; until the Ministry stepped in.

Somehow they found out where he was going. Fudge informed them that unless he had permission from his guardians, he could not go with the Weasley's. Umbridge in all of her putrid pink glory laughed at him when he read the missive from the Ministry.

Harry wasn't a fool. He knew that Fudge would have someone waiting at the train station, or at Privet Drive, but at the moment, he really didn't have a care. He was just tired of all the fighting and arguing. He wanted the peace that was to have come with the madman's death.

But it wouldn't happen. They just kept fighting and arguing.

Harry leaned against the window of his train compartment and watched the countryside rush by. Neville was sitting across from him, reading a book quietly, when loud voices penetrated the solitude.

"After the Christmas Break, I'll use the Lust Potion, then towards the end of the school year, a Fertility Potion. It's perfect. Harry Potter will be mine--him and his fortune. I'll be the new Lady Potter by summer's end."

"What about the pregnancy? You can't attend school pregnant."

"I'll be rich enough for tutors, Harry won't want to be far away from me anyhow, so we'll both need them as they won't let married students attend Hogwarts."

"Ginny, that's awful sneaky of you, doing that to your brother's best friend. What will your family think?"

"They've always thought of Harry as a member of the family. When they find out we're dating, Mum will be ecstatic." Smug laughter followed.

Harry closed his eyes. "Nev?"

"Yes, Harry." Neville was still stunned from overhearing one of their trusted housemates say and plan out such deviousness. "Dray said that there is a door to Gringott's on the platform."

"Yes. Opens right into the front lobby."

"Show me. My relatives are always late picking me up. It won't be any different this time."

"Sure Harry." He hesitated, "You could always come home with me, to Gran's."

"Fudge informed me I had to return to my relatives because I didn't have their permission to stay anywhere else. Dumbledore tried, but he was road-blocked at every turn. I don't want any trouble for your Gran with the Ministry, over me, Neville."

Neville nodded in understanding.

It was hours later when the Express pulled into the Platform. Parents and guardians were waiting. He felt a twinge in the vicinity of where his heart used to be. No one would ever be waiting on him.

Never.

Harry followed Neville under his invisibility cloak to the doorway. A pat on the other boy's back, and he slipped through the old stone doorway to the other side.

No one ever saw Harry Potter again after that day.

His friends and those he called family, received gifts for Christmas, and a note that only said he would see them on the platform after the Holidays. Gringott's only response to inquiries was that Mr. Potter withdrew a large amount of currency and left.

The Dursleys were questioned, and replied that they didn't even attempt to retrieve him from the station because the Minister of Magic had paid them to sign over custody of Harry to the Ministry.

They searched everywhere including his friend's homes, checking anyone who would or could hide the young man. But he was never found. Hermione and Ron were devastated, but they knew in their hearts that Harry was no longer happy. Somehow Molly Weasley learned of the overheard conversation on the train, and Ginny's plan to steal and control Harry's future. She was immediately placed under restrictions, both at home and at school. Arthur Weasley researched and cast ancient spells on his wayward daughter. 'Claudere Castitas' to lock her female purity and maintain her virginity, and 'Naturo Adversioum' to prevent any instances of intimacy involving her to occur. To her family, she was a pariah worse than Percy, who had redeemed himself to the family by helping Harry when he could.

Molly cried herself to sleep, every night over the loss of Harry, the adopted son of her heart. She prayed to the Goddesses that they would keep him safe until he could come home, and she could hold him in her arms again.

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Harry left the country via a Goblin Transport two weeks after the New Year. He wanted out of England, not that he could stay with the Ministry looking for him. He left letters for those he loved, to read after he was away from the country. The Goblins, namely Barikor, helped him set up a new name somewhere else.

He conjured a world map in his temporary rooms, and his destination was chosen by the random toss of a dart, which happened to land on the French coast, in Bretagne.

In Bretagne, he would continue his education with tutors, both Muggle and Magical, while deciding what do with his life. He stayed in a family cottage, in the Finistere Region, he'd inherited from his parents.

After the first month, Harry found himself at his wits end. He didn't mind the studying, but he was used to doing something more. He had taken to exploring the countryside. While out one afternoon, he found himself watching a small herd of wild horses run over a hillside.

The thundering of the hooves, their manes flying in the wind, as they ran full tilt.

It was a freedom he'd only known when he flew on his broom; but this was a new freedom. He remembered how it felt when he rode Buckbeak and the Thestrals.

Alive.

Would this be different? He had never ridden a horse. He'd only watched as his cousin Dudley, had ridden a pony at a local carnival, when they were children.

Watching the herd, Harry knew what he wanted. He wanted to feel the power of the horse under him. The muscles move and the hooves pound the earth as they raced against the wind, and the sounds of thunder behind them. He craved the freedom of racing the wind.

Harry didn't notice the man come up behind him until he cleared his throat. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Harry looked from the man to the disappearing horses, and back again to the man sitting atop his own mount. He was sitting astride a tall graceful white horse. Harry studied him for a moment, taking in his relaxed yet graceful posture. He looked to be about fifty-ish, with close cut silver hair, his beard and mustache cut close to his face. His eyes were the same color as the sky, surrounded by small lines that showed he smiled more than he frowned. Lightly tanned, it was obvious he enjoyed the outdoors. His build was solid and he was tall in the saddle, dressed in well tailored but modest clothing, which looked well cared for. Everything about him spoke quietly of financial comfort. He was definitely on the opposite end of the scale from the Malfoys when it came to show of wealth. Lucius would have been mortified.

Leaning forward patting the fine animal on the neck, he smiled at Harry. "She's quite the beauty isn't she? Luath is my best girl. She's been wi' me for many years, havn't ye girl?" The mare tossed her head and nickered.

"Luath? Isn't that Gaelic?" Harry asked, reaching up to let the mare nibble at his palm, tasting the salt in his skin. He'd spent quite a bit of time with his Head of House during the war.

Aye. 'Luath' is Scottish Gaelic for 'swift.' An' tha' she is." The older man studied him for a moment. "You're a long way from home youn' man."

Harry turned back to the fence. "I have no home. Never have."

The older man dismounted, leaving Luath to graze untethered. "Home is a relative word. But you Mr. Potter, " Harry gasped, "wi' find tha' home is no' necessarily a physical place, but one where ye place yer heart—for wi'out love, an' those ye care for, it would just be a place. Nothing more." He studied the back of the young man, the tense set of his shoulders, and decided this was a young man that had been hurt much in his life. Well, he'd best start with an introduction.

"The name's Iain Pa'l MacLeod, but the French here, call me John-Paul." He held out his hand and waited for Harry to turn to him.

Harry turned to face the tall man as he leaned on the fence next to him, seeing McLeod's hand, he took it. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. McLeod. How did you know it was me?"

"Ahh tha'." The older man sighed. "Ah was once an Auror in England, an' fought again' Grindlewald. Ah was hit wi' a dark curse leavin' me wi' almost no magic. Ah canna see through glamours an' sooth beasts."

Harry gasped. "I'm--sorry."

"Don' be lad. Ah worked past me anger an' th' pain long ago. I've learned ta live wi'out it. An' wha' Ah still have... well it helps me wi' the horses." He laughed then. "Besides, the wife wields a mean wand when she takes her mind ta it."

Harry laughed, then his expression became serious again. "Don't you miss it?"

"Aye, sometimes. Me Ailey has a wicked nasty wood'n spoon sometimes. Ah'd like ta vanish it." John-Paul's eyes were twinkling madly with humor.

Harry had sudden visions of Mum Weasley wielding her spoon at the twins. He smiled, but his insides ached-- feelings of emptiness inside, of never seeing his friends again. "I know what you mean. I knew someone that was like a Mum, and she had a spoon of her own."

"Aye. Most do. It's in their breedin' once they've married an' ha' bairns." MacLeod chuckled, his voice deep and melodic. The sound put Harry in mind of a certain Potions Master he once knew.

"So tell me, Mr. Potter, wha brings ye ta France?"

"Actually, I go by the name, Breen--Breen Evans. Now that my life is finally my own, I wanted a new beginning."

"Understandable. Well it's a pleasure ta make yer acquaintance, Mr. Breen Evans." MacLeod smiled at him.

"Sounds like a fine name. A new beginnin'? Ah know all ab'ut new beginnin's."

He turned and retrieved the dangling reins of his mount, before facing Breen again. "Ma throat's a bit dry it seems, would ye care ta join me fer a pint?" He swung effortlessly into the saddle, and waited, his hand out, "Ye can ride wi' me, since it appears ye walked."

Harry smiled. "I'd like that." He looked to the man and then behind him. It was time to move forward and to new beginnings. "Sure. I'm up for a pint." He grabbed the offered hand; using his Quidditch reflexes, and found himself sitting astride the huge animal behind his neighbor, first new friend, and the first step to a new unknown future.

TBC...