Summary: Harry is sick of it. He's done all that has been asked of him and more. It is time he took life in his own hands and proves who he is. AU!Post-Hogwarts!One-shot!
Rating: PG13/T to be safe
Dislcaimer: Nothing is mine.
A/N: This is a quick little one-shot I typed when I was bored and then decided to post. A possible sequel or extra chapter may be added later. Please review!
Cheers!
A Hero is Forgotten in the Aftermath of the Event
I've always been alone. Voldemort killed my parents before I could remember them. The Dursley's were less then suitable guardians. Guardians who showed me no love or compassion and used every little thing wrong as an excuse to belittle and abuse me. Hogwarts was a haven- I was accepted and normal for my First Year. Second Year I was turned on, and third year was the best. I found my godfather and one of my fathers best friends. Fourth year was horrible- Voldemort returned and Cedric Diggory was murdered. I still had my godfather to turn to. Yet fifth year Sirius was ripped from me and I was sent to the hell-hole of the Dursley's without any time to grieve.
I suppose I'm getting off topic, aren't I?
When I went after the Horcrux, I left Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Again I was alone. I had hoped that they would follow me. But they didn't.
Darkness and death has surrounded me, and I'm sick of it all. I've defeated Voldemort and helped round up Death Eaters. I finished Auror training. I've done everything accepted of me. And what's left? Nothing. A hero is forgotten in the aftermath of the event.
-Harry
Nineteen-year-old Harry Potter set down his quill and leaned back, stretching lightly. He was sick of it and had an entire plan. His cover was already finished- a Transfigured copy of himself, dead, his wrists slit and blood pooled around him. Standing, Harry turned and transformed to his Animagus form. Without a second glance back, Harry left the Wizarding World and Britain.
