The Last Dinosaur: A Harry Potter Fanfic
Written by Sawn-Off GlitterBoy
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter, that's all JKR's. However, there will be a chapter by chapter of what I'm making up, which I own. Completely. Now, on with the story!
Chapter 1: "So, what am I supposed to do now?"
The last battle in the second war would forever be classified as one of the bloodiest battles of human history, not just magical or muggle, because both groups were involved. American SEALS and British SAS troops fought alongside Unspeakables and Aurors in the fight for the last stronghold of the British magical community, Hogwarts. Eventually, the day was won, with the finishing blow being dealt by Harry Potter, as per the Prophesy. This young man, only age seventeen when it was all said and done, also racked up the highest kill tally in the whole war, collecting the wand from each of his victims, a grisly trophy of his accomplishments. 2,327 witches and wizards went to the great beyond because of Harry Potter. 2,328, if you count Voldemort's wand, and several hundred shell casings from various handguns, assault rifles, heavy machine guns, and sniper rifles. The final confrontation was rather anti-climactic, no long monologues, no dramatic final charge, just Harry drawing a huge hand cannon and putting a hollow-point filled with his magical energy into Voldemort's brain. Plain and simple, that was that, and the war was over, everyone was happy, and life went on.
But how can life go on for someone for whom the war never ended, the wounds never healed, and the meaning for his life was gone? How do you tell a person who committed themselves so completely to a cause that they were sure they weren't going to survive to just "Go home"? Harry didn't have a home, he didn't have a family, and he wasn't sure he could ever completely go back to the way he was. He was the last dinosaur, a relic of an era of war that wasn't necessary anymore, which ceased to have purpose or direction. With that though in mind, he simply vanished from the victory celebrations, disappeared from Hogwarts, and then disappeared from the public eye. He wasn't sure where he could go, to find a direction in his life, but he was sure that he wanted to get good and drunk and catch up with all of the drinking he had denied himself for the past two and a half years. His Apparation took him to a quiet little corner of the Caribbean, where he went to a bar and ordered the highest proof rum available and a large glass, intent on creating a new form of memory charm using only hard liquor, high-quality marijuana, and a pretty girl.
A few years go by, and we take a look at the world today, and we find that things have settled down quite a bit. Everything that could have turned out as a happy ending did, what, with a new Minister, new families, and a new lease on life, a majority of the Hogwarts crew was happy and moving on. However, people still looked for Harry Potter, sent him owls with Portkeys, tried scrying for him, and all manner of location-finding activities. Fortunately for Mr. Potter, he had planned well in advance for this and had prepared accordingly. He was his own secret keeper, and anyone that may have been looking for him decided the well-tanned man with the huge mane of black hair was beneath their notice, and not even remotely connected with Harry Potter. Harry, on the other hand, had found some measure of peace, starting up a bar and grill that was immensely popular. He took pleasure in the simple things that had been granted to him by his newfound identity and locale: Beautiful scenery, beautiful women, a good living, blending in with the background, and the companionship of his two German Shepard pals, Kirby and Juno. He never completely relaxed, at all, and was all but inaccessible for long-term relationships, much to the chagrin of many women. He was by no means a sub-par lover, but was unable to form the emotional attachment that his partners desired. He was too jaded by the fighting, to numb to watching people that he cared about die, to involve himself in a relationship like that for a long time, if ever. Harry Potter a.k.a Ellis Valentine was a cautious man, and had on more than one occasion found someone that had slipped through the cracks in his security. They were disposed of accordingly, either by memory modification or by killing them in a quiet and "accidental" manner, going to extreme lengths to dissuade any notion of involvement on his part. He was happy being anonymous and uninvolved with the magical world, they could burn for all he cared. Either they didn't want him or they wanted to use him for political reasons. All of this would have gone on for a long time, perhaps forever, if it hadn't been for the fact that the Old Man had found him and gotten a letter through to him.
Try as he might, Harry Potter was going to re-enter the wizarding world after nearly a decade and a quarter of isolation, bordering on thirteen years, all because of a letter that Albus Dumbledore had sent to him through the muggle post with the words that Harry never wanted to see again followed with a jerking sensation behind his navel.
Ellis Valentine's small house was empty except for a pair of dogs and a letter on the floor, saying
"I'm sorry"
So, what did you think? I'm open to polite criticism, and reviews are always welcome. This is my first attempt mind you, so I'm hoping that's its fairly decent. I decided to write a story in this vein because there aren't too many stories I've found that involve Harry just up and disappearing after the war and scorning the wizarding world, or portraying him as a cold, slightly heartless bastard either. So, my experiment is the words preceding this, and I hope you liked. The update will come soon, I promise.
Later!