Ch. 1 PG 6

A/N

okay, I told myself I wouldn't post this until I had it all written and done with but I'm in a funny mood so I'm posting this chapter tonight.

If I don't get a lot of feed back I'll probably rip it off and wait until I have everything done before I post it again. I'm in a really weird mood: a kind of dejected/silly/romantic mood.

Anyway, I have 3 full chapters done and working on the fourth.

So, the story. It's a Harry Potter fic obviously and you'll have to forgive me if the characters get a little out of character since I am not J.K. Rowling and when I set out to write this I did in fact want to write it with more of my own style thing. Anyway, that won't matter soon-ish (the out of character thing).

None of J.K.R.'s characters belong to me nor do I wish to claim them. I only wish to borrow them for a short time in this fanfic of mine.

On with it!

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter One:

The Last Last Day

He gathered her up in his arms.

You can't leave me, he thought, You can't leave me to survive in this world alone. But her breathing had become shallow; her chest barely moving. As he realized he could not save her, tears streamed down his cheeks. She opened her eyes slowly and raised her hand to cup his face.

"Hey," she smiled despite the immense pain that consumed her, "What happened to you? You're crying, don't cry. If you don't stop crying I'll start crying and I don't want to die unhappy…" her voice trailed off.

He gathered her closer to him, "You can't die! You can't leave me when I've just found you!" She smiled sadly and let her arm fall to her side.

"The last few months have been the best days of my life," she said softly, "I know it's cliche but it's true and I do not regret getting involved."

He hugged her tighter, "No one was supposed to get hurt, no one was supposed to die…"

She laughed weakly, "Everything can never go according to plan, even for you," she traced his jaw line with her finger, "I've always liked the shape of your face, I never told you that."

"Please," he pleaded as a fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks, "Please don't do this…"

She smiled as tears descended onto her cheek, "I love you," she whispered. As her hand fell from its memorization of his face, her breathing stopped, her eyes closed, and she died smiling in his arms as he cried over her.

Harry Potter woke with a start. He had just been having one of the strangest dreams and even though it had been just a dream, he knew it was true. He had had a lot of experience with dreams over the years, but this one confused him. He had been dreaming about himself and a young woman, except he could not remember what she looked like or what had happened to her. He remembered crying and holding her but the details were slipping from his head as if it was water in his hands. He shook his head trying to clear it, but before he could stop it the details slipped from his mind.

I must be going mad, he thought rubbing his scar out of habit though it had stopped bothering him last year, if I'm dreaming about dying beautiful women. He sat up and looked at his clock on his bedside table, Lucky me, it's four o'clock in the morning, he thought glancing around the room, and to think these are my last days in this room.

He looked over at the sleeping boys around him, or the rather sleeping young men, because the four boys of Gryffindor House had grown up nicely by their seventh year. Neville Longbottom had lost his baby fat and he had shot up like a beanstalk proving to be almost within an inch of Ron. Ron was as long and lanky as ever, and still growing. His hair had become a darker shade of auburn but his immature disposition remained stubbornly intact. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan both grew taller but remained the same as they ever were.

Harry himself had grow a few more inches over the summer and he was beginning to believe he would finally be able to stop craning his neck to look Ron in eye. His hair remained untidy and his eyes were bright green as usual. But after the events of last year, neither his life nor he himself would ever be the same again.

He had finally defeated Lord Voldemort.

But that was wrong, he thought. He had not defeated Lord Voldemort alone. It had taken the combined efforts of Ron, Hermione, and he to defeat Lord Voldemort. But it had been he, Harry, who had sent the final killing blow just as the prophecy had predicted so many years ago. Harry still had nightmares about it. At one point they had almost lost Hermione, which would have been devastating for the pair of them but more devastating for Ron. He and Hermione had just admitted to each other and to themselves that they were desperately in love.

Harry smiled at this thought. Though his two best friends had been quite disgusting sometimes when they cuddled all "lovey-dovey" in corners of the common room, Harry was happy for them. Any fool could have seen that they were crazy for each other since the first time Hermione bustled into their compartment on the Hogwarts Express looking for Trevor, Neville's toad. True, Harry had his moments with Hermione, like that time at the beginning of sixth year when they had accidentally locked themselves in a broom closet trying to escape Filch. Since Harry figured they had a few hours to kill, he innocently suggested they snog for a bit, however, both soon realized it would never work between them. Ron had questioned them where they had been and Harry had told him the truth figuring they could have a good laugh about it, but Ron had decked him one in the nose instead.

Now that they were together, Hermione had developed an irritating habit of pestering Harry about his own love life. He would usually shrug her off by telling her it was none of her business what he did with his tongue, which usually shut her up about it. Truth be told, Harry had given his love life a great deal of thought after the two love birds had finally realized their undying love for each other that night. It was not very exciting to tell the truth. He had had his crush and short thing with Cho Chang. And his even shorter relationship with Ginny Weasley, who told him truthfully after their second date that her tastes had changed, and she could not keep trying to live her childhood fantasy of being Harry Potter's girlfriend. Besides the short snog fest with Hermione that was all the romantic activity he had had time for between his studies, quidditch, and his fight against Lord Voldemort.

He sighed, At least the bloody N.E.W.T.s are over. He and his fellow classmates had completed their final examinations just the day before. Their education was finally complete and most students like Harry dismissed the teachers' threats that come Monday they would be working even harder to cram in even more information. But Harry didn't care anymore because as far as he was concerned, he was on his way to Auror training. Plus, it was the weekend and Harry had never been bothered to study at the beginning of a weekend before.

Even Hermione seemed to think that studying was not life's top priority now. She and Ron had disappeared after breakfast and had not returned until after lunch. They were both blushing like mad and Ron's hair resembled Harry's but they both seemed pleased, especially Ron. Harry was too used to them to wonder what they had been doing. Harry ignored Ron as he whispered something to Hermione, which she giggled at and blushed.

"Alright, Harry?" Ginny interrupted his thoughts, "You look a bit annoyed."

"Oh," said Harry as he gestured toward Ron and Hermione, "Just them again."

Ginny glanced at Hermione and Ron too, "Yeah, who knew they could act like a pair of love sick ninnies?"

Harry snorted and shrugged, "They're probably just making up for lost time."

Ginny shuddered, "Don't even mention that! This is my brother we're talking about!" Harry laughed but stopped quickly at the look on Ginny's face.

"Okay, okay," Harry said breathing hard, "Why aren't you working Ginny?"

She shrugged, "No one else is working." She gestured around the room and Harry looked up to find it true. Many like Ron and Hermione were curled up in corners on squashy armchairs or couches. Others were eating sweets and playing wizard chess or Exploding Snap.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," said Harry and he returned to Quidditch Through the Ages, which he was reading for perhaps the hundredth time. However, Ginny interrupted him again.

"So, what's up with you Harry? Find anyone special yet? I'm sure there's someone here that's willing to snog you," said Ginny with an evil glint in her eyes.

Harry threw up his hands in frustration and disgust, "Not you too Ginny! Hermione has been bothering me about it all year! That is when she hasn't been talking about the N.E.W.T.s or Ron," he added as an after thought.

Ginny only laughed, "Well, you're the only one who isn't 'hooked up' as the Americans say. You can't blame us for teasing you a little." Harry only grunted in response. Annoyance at Hermione had built up over the past year and Ginny's comments almost made him explode. But he ignored it because Harry knew she was only teasing him to annoy him.

"Women…" Harry muttered almost incoherently.

"Did you say something Harry?" asked Ginny as she looked up from her magazine.

"Err…nothing," Harry said, "Nevermind." She shrugged and went back to perusing the latest articles about the wizard rich and famous. Harry was happy to see that there was not a picture of his head on the front cover or an article about him. Harry had successfully almost all together ignored wizard pop culture for seven long years. Except for Rita Skeeter in his forth year and the Daily Prophet's short spell against him, he had remained out of the papers almost entirely. It was true, he had defeated the greatest dark wizard the world had ever seen, but no one else knew it had been him except Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and the members of the Order. A great feat considering he was the famous Harry Potter.

The last days at Hogwarts seemed to fly by in a rush of wind and color. In the days that followed the end of the N.E.W.T.s, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent their time, in-between closing ceremonies and making preparations to leave Hogwarts, lounging by the lake and in the common room. Classes had been cancelled for the seventh years disproving the teachers' threats of working hard after their exams. But as it grew closer and closer to the last day at Hogwarts, Harry found himself staring around the rooms trying to remember every detail. He visited all his favorite places one last time: the kitchens to visit Dobby, Hagrid's hut, and Hogsmead.

The end of term feast was the best feast Harry had ever had at Hogwarts. Dumbledore closed the feast with words of jubilation and confidence that at last the threat of Lord Voldemort was over after a year of not seeing hide nor hair of the once all-powerful dark wizard. Ron had even stopped twitching so much when he heard Voldemort's name, but only a little.

Harry packed up his trunk for the last time. He looked around his old dormitory one last time thinking to himself what it felt like when he first came to Hogwarts.

Next year, a new bunch of frightened first years will sleep here, thought Harry to himself, perhaps I should leave a message for them. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the lower wall along the floor. Engraved into the stone he wrote: Get into trouble but not expelled. -Harry Potter.

There, he thought as he put his wand away as he prepared for bed and smiled to himself, that should do the trick.

The last morning at Hogwarts was a train wreck for the seventh years. Teachers and their favorite students said tearful good-byes. Only the girls of course because the boys would sooner moon the headmaster than cry in public, or for that matter cry at all. Professor McGonagall had even come up to him to say farewell. He had never realized she had liked him that much.

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Madame Bloom, had been the first Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to survive an entire year at Hogwarts since anyone could remember. Harry was sure she would stay awhile longer too because her flamboyant personality attracted the friendship of the teachers as well as students. She could also cast a nasty hex or two when she was particularly annoyed. She always told them she saved that special treatment solely for the seventh years.

The train ride to London was no better. Most of the seventh year girls were still crying about someone or something. Harry had stopped listening by now and Ron and Hermione had long since retreated into the corner of their compartment. They talked, snogged, and slept as one. It was going to be unbearable for Harry to have Ron as a flat mate if Ron ate, drank, and breathed Hermione twenty-four seven.

Hopefully, thought Harry, they'll get married or something and I'll be rid of them for awhile. He looked around the compartment Luna Lovegood, who seemed to become their friend in fifth year (never can tell with ol' Loonie), was reading The Quibbler upside down. However, Harry was quite sure none of the articles in that particular issue required the reader to turn the magazine upside down. He suspected that she either enjoyed reading it that way or it had become a habit.

The only other occupant was Neville, who had seated himself by a window. He had been staring out it the entire trip, apparently in deep thought. Harry was on the verge of asking what Neville was contemplating so deeply about when Dean and Seamus dropped by to ask if they wanted to play exploding snap one last time. One last time turned into two last times, then three. Before they knew it Ron and Hermione were even playing and the whole lot of them were rolling around on the floor laughing.

Before he knew it, the train arrived at King's Cross Station. Harry could not help feeling that something was missing as he trudged through the train cars with his luggage. A fanfare, perhaps, should have been playing as they exited the train. But then Harry realized seventh years had been graduating from Hogwarts for centuries. If not that, then what was missing? He could not shake the feeling that he was missing out on something. And as he saw his fellow students descend from the train into the waiting arms of their parents, he realized what he was missing.

Wait-no. Don't think about Siri- he stopped himself. Harry had long been struggling not to think about Sirius' death since that night he died. He found that as his last year at Hogwarts progressed, he was brooding more and more about Sirius. He would sometimes kick himself for it. Harry knew Sirius would not want him to obsess about his death, but Harry was only human after all.

How could anyone expect Harry to forget what happened? Harry had been through so much and seen so many people die or some close to drying. After the defeat of Lord Voldemort the truth finally was recognized and Sirius' name was cleared. Once people realized Sirius was Harry's godfather, they felt sorry for his death and pitied Harry. He became the tragic, boy wonder again to the public. Every once in awhile someone came up to him to offer his or her condolences and often times it meant nothing to him because they had not known Sirius. Why should they care? Harry was glad no one knew he had defeated Lord Voldemort. The last thing he wanted was even more attention.

A/N

Whee and that was chapter 1. Hope you like it. Remember to review after you read.