*There is a reference to both the Bible and the Avengers in this chapter. A surprise (a real one, not just an imaginary cookie you can't do anything with) to whoever can find both of them. No copyright infringement intended.

Harry's Cabin in Maine, July 26, 2048

"Harry!" Ella stalked through the messy cabin, flicking her wand back and forth as she went. It had become normal for her. She would plan for two days and come back to the cabin, only to find it a mess. She would clean as she searched for Harry, who had a rather bothersome knack for hiding from her whenever she showed up.

"Harry Potter, will you please explain to me why this cabin is a mess again!" Ella flung open the back door and stomped through the backyard. "This is ridiculous! I'm supposed to be the child here!" She glared in all directions before angrily pushing back a curl that kept falling into her face. Concentrating, she sent her magic out for a mile. She felt his aura about a quarter of a mile away and calmly walked towards it. Before she got within earshot, she felt him clamber down and dash to some bushes a bit away. She rolled her eyes and changed direction a bit. They had been playing this game for months, and she always won.

She concealed herself right up until she pushed back the bushes. "Harry." He was lying on his back, his hands behind his head. Her tone was full of exasperation. He opened one eye to glare at her.

"Leave. Me. Alone." He was succinct, as always.

"No." Her reply was as succinct as his. He got up, slow because of age and defiance. He looked like he was seventy, but he acted like he was seven.

"Why do you keep coming back? What more could you possibly learn?" They had gone over every detail of Harry's life he could remember, and more. She had brought a Pensieve, and though she hated to do it, she went over each memory he gave her for hours. But he told her he was glad to give them away. He could still remember them, but only if he really tried, and they were still vague.

In all honesty, she was back to keep him company. He had become a real friend to her, despite his surliness. And that would make him the first. Ella Sinclair's only friends were those from the past who never remembered her. With a jolt, she remembered that this Harry would never remember her either.

"You never know." She said softly as she looked over his shoulder.

oooOooo

For Harry, the girl in front of him baffled him like no one else. Even Luna Lovegood could never make his head hurt like Ella could. She had shown up at his front door nearly a year ago, claiming she was a Mora Malefica. Since then, she had made it very hard for him to live the way he was accustomed. He was nearing his 70th birthday, but something about the girl made him feel like living. She couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen, but something about her drew him. If he was even 50 years younger, he would say he was in love. But he wasn't, so it must be something else. Whatever it was, Harry wanted to resent it. He was old and crotchety for a reason. He didn't want to be hurt anymore in this life, so he pushed everyone away, sometimes quite literally.

"The Dark Lord is in America now, Harry." They had been walking back to the cabin in silence, which was why he was surprised when she broke it.

He rubbed his face with one hand. "I know." He rasped. He could feel her looking at him as they walked. He knew she was looking over him, trying to decide if he was drinking again because of this. He wasn't. He gave up drinking a few weeks after she showed up. He adamantly refused to admit, even to himself, that it was because of her. But it was. And if she was anyone else, he would have hated her for it.

When they arrived back at the cabin, he saw a small pile of clothes sitting innocently on top of his kitchen table.

"What the hell are those?" He growled at her. The tiny thing had the gall to smirk at him.

"Those are called clothes, Harry." She quirked an eyebrow at him, and got herself a glass of water.

"I know what they are. What I want to know is why the bloody things are on my kitchen table!" If Harry had been holding his wand, it would have been sparking. It was the first time he had truly been mad at her in months.

Suddenly, Ella wasn't smirking anymore. She straightened up and spoke in a tone of authority that always made Harry forget he was the adult.

"We are going out. It is past time that you get out of this house. Take a shower, put on those clothes, and do whatever you have to to prepare yourself for this. Because you are going even if I have to Imperio you."

Harry glared at her as he slowly gathered the clothes and made his way to his small bathroom. She would do it, too.

oooOooo

An hour later, and Harry was fighting to get his bearings after Ella had apparated them to a near large town. He grudgingly allowed her to pull him into every store she thought would either interest him, or that she was interested in.

Over the next few days, this became a normal occurrence for the two of them. They played a grandfather and his granddaughter out for a bit of fun. And though Ella tried, Harry would never admit that he actually was having fun. Eventually though, Harry caught wind of what the new Dark Lord was up to. He was searching for the famous Harry Potter, the scourge of Lord Voldemort. By now, even the Muggles knew of magic, because this Dark Lord was so widespread and violent in his search.

After seeing the violence a couple of times on a TV, Harry had made up his mind. It was July 30, and Ella was searching for a birthday present for him when he just stopped and stared at the screen. She immediately knew what he was thinking.

"Harry!" She hissed at him, not wanting to draw attention to them. He glared at her and went back to staring at the screen. Gritting her teeth, Ella cast a nonverbal Notice-me-not spell, grabbed his arm, and apparated them the hell out of there.

When they got to the cottage, Harry stalked off. She glared and stalked after him. Why did he have to revert to his moody teenage self?

"Harry Bloody Potter! You stop this instant!" He did, but still refused to look at her. "What the hell are you thinking? You can't just go and confront this madman! You have no hope of defeating him. You haven't used magic in years." She tried to plead with him, explain why he couldn't. But she could see the resolve in his eyes.

"So what?" He exploded. "Everybody is still looking to me! The Boy-Who-Lived-Then-Defeated-Voldemort! It's never changed! And I've got to try." His voice cracked and he turned away, tears shimmering in his eyes.

"You'll die." Nothing Ella could say would make a difference, she knew that now. But she was so overwhelmed by emotion, she had to do something.

He looked at her with eyes that had seen so much pain and death that she was momentarily left breathless, a hard knot in her chest aching for him.

"Yes." He gasped. He collapsed awkwardly, and covered his face with his hands. He made such a dejected picture sitting sprawled in the dirt, Ella couldn't help herself. She kneeled next to him, and ran her fingers through his hair like her mother used to do for her when she was upset.

"But death cannot be much worse than this life." He choked out. And Ella knew it to be true. He had been dealt a hard hand. But she would fix it. She had to.

"This war is not all about you. The last one wasn't either. You can't keep standing up to Dark Lords singlehandedly. Let this generation deal with him." Even as she spoke, Ella knew her words would have no effect on the old man beside her.

He said no more, so she helped him back into the cabin. She silently made supper, and they silently ate it. As she cleaned up, Harry slowly got up and headed for his bedroom. Right before he left her sight, he half turned. He waited a moment, his head hung low. She bit her lip, and forced herself to not say anything. She had already said all she could.

And then he looked up, and his eyes were alive and blazing, and filled with something she could not name. He stood straight for the first time since she met him, and he held his head high.

"I am Harry Potter. I bow before no one, not even Death. I will greet Death tomorrow as an old friend, and the next great adventure. All I ask is that I greet him as a hero, not-" He stopped talking and shook his head, looked her in the eye once more, and walked away.

Ella dropped the plate she was washing by hand for something to do, and slid to the floor. She pushed her hair back with soapy hands and stared up at the ceiling. So this was how it was going to end. Tomorrow. And she still had a month until she could leave this time.

Her heart pounding, she finished the dishes. She would sleep here tonight. She laid down on the couch, her wand on the table beside her. It was uncharacteristic of her to be so far away from it, but she had her reasons. She laid there for hours, unable to sleep.

Just before dawn, she heard Harry get up. He crept into the living room as she stilled her breathing. For all appearances, she was asleep. After she heard the door creak closed, she got up herself. Her wand was gone, taken by an old man with a purpose.

She followed his apparition trail, and landed in the middle of a bustling New York. This was where the newest Dark lord was searching for Harry Potter, and so that's where Harry Potter found him.

They were staring across a street from each other, wands drawn. Everyone else had wisely backed far away.

"The famous Harry Potter has returned to save the world once more, as an old man." The Dark Lord cackled and taunted. Ella and all those watching saw Harry slowly draw up to his full height. Power flared in his once again bright eyes, and the Dark Lord stopped cackling.

Harry made eye contact with Ella briefly, and nodded before turning his gaze back to the figure clothed in black.

"You will be defeated today. As long as just one will stand up to ones like you, you can never win. Not truly." Harry spoke with conviction, and Ella fought with momentary shame at his words. She had urged him not to stand up to the Dark Lord.

"Yes." The figure drawled. "You are standing, aren't you? Haven't you heard, Potter? No one stands before me. Now." His face contorted into a fierce grin. "Bow." His wand flicked, and Harry grimaced as he was forced to bow. It was eerily similar to another face off Harry had with another dark wizard. Suddenly, Harry was rising again. Ella glanced at the other wizard. He was confused. Harry was throwing off the spell.

"Not to men like you." Harry spat as he finally stood straight again.

The Dark Lord laughed. "There are no men like me."

Harry gave one last glare before he whirled into action. Ella admired him as he took the other wizard by surprise, he clearly wasn't expecting Harry to attack him first.

A powerful blue beam was flung from her wand. "There are-"

Harry blocked a blood red spell, and sent a sickly yellow one in return. "Always-"

Harry sent three spells in a row, and the Dark wizard barely blocked them. "Men like you." Harry finished.

The battle raged on, and Ella refused to get involved. Harry would hate her if she saved him. So she wouldn't, even though it was breaking her heart.

And then, Harry tripped. Ella saw it. Harry saw it. The Dark Lord saw it.

Avada Kedavra.

And a bright green light was careening once more towards Harry Potter. But this time was his last. Harry crouched near the ground where he had just barely caught himself and waited. One last tear crept down his face, losing itself in his wrinkles.

Ella waved a hand. Time stopped around her. The blast of deadly green light was about a foot away from Harry. His eyes, however, were not on neither the green curse, nor its sender. He was staring straight at her.

She slowly walked over to him, and placed a shaking hand on his thin chest. She reached up on tiptoe, and kissed his careworn cheek.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter."

She could think of nothing else to say, so she picked up her wand from where he had dropped it. She looked one last time into the eyes of her first friend, and waved her arm. His body flew back lifelessly from the impact of the curse. She turned to look at the man who was grinning like an idiot.

He stopped abruptly when he realized that she was standing there.

"Who are you, little girl? Run home to your mommy, before I kill you too." He made a shooing motion. Her eyes flared with anger and sorrow and power, much like Harry's had done minutes before.

The duel was short, he was no match for Ella. She had dueled with Merlin and won, this overblown killer was nothing compared to him.

The wizard burst into dust, and Ella stared coldly as his ashes flurried down like snow. The people watching began to cheer, but she paid them no mind.

"You are dust." She murmured. "And to dust you will return." And then for the first time in her life, Ella cried.

Amidst the celebration, she turned to the body flung over rubble behind her. Tears blurred her vision, but she managed to grab onto his wrist and apparate them both back to the cabin. Like he had done for a tiny elf before, she dug the grave by hand. It took her all day, but finally she was done. Blood and blisters marred her hands, but she didn't notice.

She carefully levitated his body into the grave, and heaped the dirt on top of him. The only marking was the huge oak tree he had been fond of climbing to get away from her. She sat beside the mound of dirt, all of her tears spent. She stared off into the distance, emotionless. Harry's life had ended on the day it had begun, in several different ways. Not only did this day mark his birth, but also the day he had received his Hogwart's letter, and the day he had been repeatedly saved from the Dursley's by the Weasley's. The irony of it all made her laugh, which ended in her collapsing on the ground and sobbing.

She would make sure this didn't happen in the future, but that didn't change the fact that this was her present. A cold hand seemed to be crushing her heart, and she couldn't make it stop.

She spent the next month living in Harry's cottage and wandering the land he had owned. When September 1 finally rolled around, she had never been more relieved in her life. She paused one last time at Harry's grave, and allowed one more tear to fall down her face, uninhibited by a smooth face blessed by youth.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter."