Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
He didn't think it had crossed any of their minds. That he might run. After Sirius died he was sure they expected him to have an outburst of emotion.
Silver trinkets shattering, glittering, sparkling, falling.
Then he would become despondent, spending hours at a time sitting in the cluttered mess that was Sirius' room. Stroking Buckbeak's feathers as he stared listless off into the distance. Then he would finally accept his destiny and become an emotionless weapon. Only Harry's emotions had always been volatile and he wasn't able to part with them. So no one questioned it when he spent hours in the library looking for spells to defeat Voldemort yet still exploded in rage when Malfoy spoke.
Because not even Dumbledore had thought that he might run. Harry was to be unbreakable. Stoic and unrelenting. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with the fiery red head. Wasn't supposed to spend moments simply gazing at the sun glinting off her hair. But it's funny how fate works. In his mind she wasn't supposed to die.
Silver protruding from her chest; blood bubbling from the unnatural hole.
And watching her blank eyes staring up into the heavens he found he couldn't do it. So he cut his losses and left the day he graduated. When he imagined the panic in the magical world a bitter smile crossed his face. Images of the frenzy the Order of the Phoenix had experienced drew mirthless laughs from him because Dumbledore had never thought of this. In all his benign wisdom, his omniscience, he hadn't thought of this. Had never thought Harry was human, a mere boy. That Harry was no hero.
Because heroes don't run. They stand and fight even when the battle is hopeless. But Harry's no hero so every once in awhile when he's not drowning his sorrows in liquor he'll go out to the sea and watch the sun. And he tries to drown himself in the depths. A piece of oblivion. Never works; he comes back to shore drenched and fishermen shake their heads in disbelief. Damn prophecy.
And so because Harry's no hero he doesn't run to his destiny. He sits by the water and sees her brilliant hair in the dying rays of the sun, light reflecting on the water.
His own little piece of heaven.
