Harry's head bounced painfully against the window as the taxi sped down the potholed road. He'd given up on apparating after finding that it took far too much energy out of him. After a day of vanishing again and again through the countryside, Harry would then sleep for almost twenty hours the next night. It didn't help that he never had enough food either. He was in a constant state of exhaustion and hunger, a feeling not foreign to him, but at least now with using transport he wasn't always exhausted.

After meeting the Muggle family, Harry had left the campsite that very afternoon. He told himself that he only left because he didn't think he should stay in any one place for longer than necessary, but that wasn't really the case. He had previously decided he would spend another two nights at the camp to allow himself a better recovery from his initial bout of apparition, but he brought it forwards anyway. No, the truth was that the advice the man Dennis had given him had scared him.

Listen to what your brain says, then do what your heart says.

With no one to talk to, the man's words had rolled around in Harry's head since leaving the campsite over a week ago. What did his brain say? Run, had been the paramount thought in his head. Get yourself as far away from Forks as possible and stay away from Britain too. And that's what he was doing. He was listening to his brain. He had barely rested since listening to his brain, but that wasn't what the advice had told him to do.

Do what your heart says.

But what was his heart telling him to do? Whenever Harry tried to think about it he only felt the horrific emotions he had been bottling up for so long. The pain and the loss were still raw after having been ignored since the final Battle, and trying to decipher what they were telling him to do was impossible. His thoughts dwelled on his two best friends, and he knew what he should do. There was not a day that went past that Harry did not remember the promise he had whispered at St Mungo's, but he couldn't, not yet. It was too soon – too raw.

And so that was the conclusion he had reached. His Gryffindor bravery which had led him into battle against Voldemort, sent him hunting Horcruxes, had failed when it came time to face his emotions. So Harry had done what any coward would do: he kept running.

Leaving the camp, he had found his way onto a night bus that took him further and further west. He had no idea where it was taking him, and only paid vague attention to the towns they passed. But Harry did not sleep. Every bus, every taxi, he would keep his head pressed against the window, using the painful jolts through his skull as a stimulant. They would come for him eventually, the vampires or the wizards, and he'd be damned if whoever got to him first found him sleeping.

"So where're yeh off to, then?" The taxi driver spoke for the first time. It was dark outside, the hundreds of stars visible in the sky helping Harry relax.

"I'm not really sure," he replied. And he wasn't. In a spur of the moment, Harry had flagged down the first taxi he found in whatever small town it was he'd been holed up in – he hadn't paid attention to where he was. All he had asked the driver to do was to take him to the closest airport that could get him to a big city, he didn't care which one.

Harry didn't know where the sudden desire for action came from. He only wished he knew what the action that he was taking was. Was he still running? Hoping to fly to another country to escape even further? Or was this his heart trying to get him to go home? He hoped it wasn't the latter, but he felt once he got to the airport his decision would be made for him. He only planned to get on the first flight available.

"Don't know where yeh goin', and yeh got no real bags," the driver chuckled. "Sure you ain't just runnin' from home, kid?"

"Maybe," he murmured into the window. What was he running from? Home? Vampires and Wizards? His duty? He was definitely running from his duty. He didn't owe anyone anything back home, not after what he had done for them. He didn't really mean what he'd said to McGonagall; he didn't actually want people to die. But why did it have to be him that solved the problem?

'Just let me live,' he thought for the thousandth time since leaving Forks. 'Let me have my life.'

But it wasn't entirely true to say he didn't owe anyone anything. He could think of a handful of people he definitely owed something if he only had the strength needed to give it to them. He didn't like thinking of the Weasleys. They had lost so much because of him. How could he ever expect them to forgive him for what he'd done? No matter what Kingsley had told him that day – thinking about his death caused Harry even more anguish – there was no vacancy at the Weasleys' for a curse like him.

"Yeh know," the driver continued, "runnin' never really helps nothin'. Leavin' people behind an' all that. Nah," he shook his head letting out a huge sigh. "Best teh stay with them who care 'bout yeh."

"And what if you don't know who cares about you?" Harry couldn't help but ask. He hadn't realised how desperate for human interaction he was; he'd been so starved of conversation.

"Everybody's got someone who cares 'bout 'em. Them who check up on yeh, ask how yeh doin' an' that. Can't 'magine a kid like yeh without anyone at all." He said frankly.

"I just –" Harry didn't know how he could word his feelings. "Something happened. A while ago. I ran away then, and came to America. But…" he rested his head back on the seat, staring at the long stretch of road. "I don't know. I guess I was making friends. But they found out something about me – a secret."

The cabbie nodded sagely, "And yeh don' know if they still care 'bout yeh? Mmm." Harry's silence confirmed his theory. "Look kid, I ain't gonna tell yeh what teh do, ain't my place. But seems to me like yeh got people who'd be mighty upset if yeh ran away. Yeh ain't gonna know if yeh don' ask 'em. Else you might be runnin' from those who are acceptin' yeh after all."

Silence filled the car then, as both occupants thought about what had been said. Harry considered the words very carefully. It was reasonable to suggest that a group of vampires could accept someone else different, but it wasn't that easy. What about Bella? She seemed to have taken the news that the Cullens were vampires well enough, but would she have room for another danger in her life? Because that's what he was; there was no doubt that his presence, wherever he was, brought danger to those around him. If Bella and the Cullens still wanted to know him, wouldn't that make things worse by returning and putting them in danger?

Those eyes forced their way back into the forefront of his mind. Harry had no doubt Carlisle would not accept him. He knew the worst of what Harry had done, and the shame in his eyes had told Harry how he felt about him. The horror in his eyes upon at last discovering a word for what Harry was had suggested he was not completely new to the idea of wizards and witches. If known prejudices were anything to go by, Harry figured it could not have been a good experience. Would anyone want him back, really?

"Well, here's the airport, kid." They pulled up in front of the terminal building. It wasn't a very large airport, but there were enough people around to suggest that there were flights heading out tonight.

"Thanks," Harry said as he reached into his pocket for some notes. The driver waved him off.

"On the house," he said, smiling. "Figure out what yeh really wanna do before yeh go flyin' off anywhere."

Harry clambered out of the car, slinging his small rucksack over his shoulder. He watched as the taxi drove off, leaving him alone in the cold. He dragged his feet over to a bench just outside the terminal. He couldn't face going inside just yet; he was scared what he might do if he saw the flights he could take.

Stay or leave? If he left, where to go? Harry grasped his head in his hands and tugged on his hair. It wasn't fair! How was it that his life had screwed up so badly? He wished he could go back in time, back to the moment right after Voldemort had been defeated. If those Death Eaters had just been stunned properly…

He'd have Ron. He'd have Hermione. And the rest of the Weasleys. He and Ginny might have talked things over and gotten back together. Would he have gone back to Hogwarts for his seventh year? Maybe he would have fast-tracked straight into the Auror program. He would have had to deal with accolades, but it would have been worth it to have his friends by his side. His family. He'd have been able to visit Teddy.

At the thought of his godson, Harry broke down. He hadn't let himself think of Teddy, too scared of what his emotions would do. Leaving him had been the hardest part, but Harry knew it had been necessary. He couldn't have helped Teddy and supported him when his own head was barely in the right space. He assumed Teddy was with Andromeda. She'd be strong for him, Harry knew. She was far stronger than Harry could ever be. Perhaps that was how Harry could move forward. If he set his sights on being better for Teddy… that could be his goal.

And suddenly things made sense again.

He lifted his head when a soft hoot came from in front of him. He looked at the ground. It was an owl. No. It was –

"Artemis?" Harry gasped.

"Could you have gone much further?" A familiar voice called from the darkness. Instincts kicking in, Harry leapt to his feet and brandished his wand in the direction the voice had come from. Slowly, a figure came forward until Edward Cullen, with his hands in the air and wearing that stupid smug smile of his, stepped out of the shadows.

"Hey Harry," he said quietly. His smile fell once he got a good look at Harry, who turned away quickly wiping his face on his sleeve. He was sick of crying.

"How did you find me?" Harry knew the answer. Using Artemis, who was now hopping around in front of him, was the only way they could have tracked him so far.

"Your protections around the house didn't affect Bella," Edward answered, explaining the only part Harry couldn't understand. "She has a mental shield of sorts. So she found Artemis and told her to find you." Edward tilted his head, looking so much like Carlisle that Harry had to look away. "You've travelled across three states, you realise?"

Harry sighed, "Edward, I've got no idea where I am. Why are you here?"

"Because you never let us explain anything. No one is upset with you, Harry." Harry could sense the lie but he didn't point it out. It already hurt enough that Edward was the one who came; obviously he hadn't felt the need to come looking for Harry.

"Where were you heading? Home?" Edward asked, gazing in through the window to the terminal.

"Dunno," Harry admitted. "Was just working that out when you showed up."

Harry could feel Edward's eyes watching him closely but he couldn't make himself meet his gaze. He watched as Artemis scrabbled in the grass looking for something.

"You could come back to Forks," Edward suggested.

"And what would I do then, Edward?" Harry asked seriously. "Go back to school? Sit in the sidelines of you and Bella and get ignored by your family? Never knowing where in the damn town I fit in?" He glanced up at Edward. "What's actually left for me there?"

"Bella." The answer came easily. "Me. Car– my family," Harry winced at what Edward had almost said. So it was true: Carlisle didn't want him back.

"There's someone I need to go back for. Someone important to me," Harry explained. Edward looked understanding, but disappointed. "But I don't think I'm ready for that just yet. Will things –" he broke off, searching for the right words. "Will things be okay if I go back to Forks? Will everyone be okay?" Harry knew that Edward understood who he meant.

"He needs you just as much as you need him, Harry," Edward admitted gently. "He's been a mess since you left. His thoughts are… lost at the moment. But I believe he'll be okay in time. You both will."

Harry leaned back against the building behind him. Was this it then? Had he finally made his decision? Go back to Forks and do some proper healing so he could return to Britain to find Teddy? Harry liked the sound of that, truthfully. He only hoped he'd have a chance to speak to Carlisle soon; Harry wasn't sure how much healing he could do without having the man to discuss it with.

"Alright," Harry finally said. Edward gave another one of his smug grins. "Shut up," Harry said without venom.

"Excellent, come on then!" Edward turned to leave.

"What? I'm not coming with you, you fool," Harry said exasperated.

Edward blinked. "What? Why not?"

"What, a piggyback?" Harry laughed. "Thanks, but I'll get back myself."

"Or you could take us both back? Could you? Teleport?" Hearing Edward call it teleporting amused Harry greatly.

"How far did you say we are from Forks?" he asked.

"Maybe two thousand miles?" Harry blinked. He hadn't realised he'd come that far. "It's been a while since I left Forks following Artemis. When I worked out her general direction I'd take over for a bit and carry her in a cage while I ran. I don't think she liked that, to be honest."

"I can't do that sort of distance," he grimaced. "I'll have to work my way closer."

Edward frowned. "But didn't you teleport from Britain in the first place?"

"It's a long story," Harry said, shaking his head, "one I don't fully understand myself. Just trust me for now when I say I can't do two thousand miles."

"Well we are at an airport," Edward pointed out. "Why don't we just fly to Seattle?"

"Can you cope in a confined space with humans like that?" Harry genuinely didn't know how good the Cullens' control was. He only knew Carlisle had the strongest of them all.

"I hunted this morning, I'll be fine," Edward assured him. He picked up Harry's bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Come on then, I reckon there's a flight in an hour or so."

Sighing, Harry hauled himself to his feet and told Artemis to start making her way back to Forks. He watched her fly off into the night, guilt pouring over him at the thought of how he had left her behind. He'd have to make it up to her when they met again. Harry stayed looking up into the never-ending night sky for a few moments before dragging his feet after Edward.

"Just don't talk to me on the plane," he grumbled. "I'm bloody exhausted."


Dearest one,

The boy is gone. I do not know where he has gone, or why exactly he left, but he has vanished. I am under the impression he did not tell anyone he was leaving, and I have been trying to keep close watch over his associates. They appear to have set off to find him through the use of his owl. No doubt the bird will lead them directly to him.

Wards have been erected at his house. It appears no one can approach except for one girl, a friend of the boy's. Isabella Swan is the child's name. Her father coincidentally is the Police Chief, no doubt keeping an eye on Potter too. I do not know how she managed to overcome anti-Muggle wards as I am sure she is not a witch. She may prove costly to our cause. With your approval I will seek to dispose of her as necessary.

Everything is in place for the final bang. I have procured the key to the boy's downfall and am waiting for your signal to unleash the maelstrom that it will bring.

I trust that you have received my other gift, also. It was not at all difficult to come by; the boy had clearly expected no one in this town to come looking for it and so for his lack of vigilance he does not deserve to wield it. In your possession it will perform wonders, I know. At last with this piece of the puzzle, the final stages of our plan can commence. It is satisfying to see our work fall into place after so long.

Tell me your thoughts on the Swan girl. She is disposable for the greater cause.

Long live the Bringer of Light.