Disclaimer: Enjoy the 'show.'
Retirement
Harry stared at Draco for a few moments as he tried to figure out his next course of action. On the one hand, he felt a tremendous sense of vindication, he was right, the little bastard was plotting something. On the other he felt depressed, who would he share it with? His friends had found other things to occupy themselves and, much as he might wish it otherwise, being the 'boy-who-lived' left very little time to give into one's hormones.
"First things first," he mumbled to himself. "Obliviate." A professional could have removed the memories so seamlessly that no one would ever notice their absence, Harry dragged his nemesis to the bottom of one of the moving stairs, added a few bruises, and hoped for the best.
Again, the thought came to take his newfound information to his friends. That thought was quickly followed by the reminder of the way they'd already brushed him off. Best to keep their hands clean anyway, he thought to himself.
"Must be nice to have normal concerns," Harry mused, punctuating it with another boot to Malfoy's ribs. Dumbledore was likewise out which left . . . no one, it was a depressing but not unfamiliar thought. After giving one last boot to Draco, and imperiling the chance that there would be a future generation of Malfoys infesting the castle, Harry turned and walked away. He had some planning to do.
It didn't take long, no more than two hours in the Library, to confirm that he had no chance of facing Voldemort in a fair fight with much expatiation of both surviving and emerging victorious. Maybe one or the other, but not both. When one added in the legions of Death Eaters . . . well, it looked like he was going to have to draw on the lessons learned from life at the Dursley house; deception, sadism, and an absence of fair play would be his guiding lights.
One positive came of his resolve to cast aside his humanity and damn himself for the sake of his friends, it opened other avenues of research. As for the rest? There would be consequences, he accepted that, no one would look at him the same after he did what was necessary, so be it. He'd spent the first ten years of his life without friends, it was surprisingly easy to contemplate the rest of his life without them.
As the days went on and his plans matured, he found himself growing more and more removed from the other students until it was a rare occasion he interacted with any of them outside of class.
"Harry, I've found you," Katie announced as she barged into the abandoned classroom he'd commandeered for his research.
"What can I do for you, Katie?"
"Just wanted to know why you haven't shown up for Quidditch practice?" the witch replied. "You didn't think the toad's ban would last forever, did you?"
"I hadn't thought about it," Harry admitted.
"Well think about it, McGonagall is counting on your support to put the trophy in her office."
"Like she supported me last year?" Harry snapped. "Let her choke on that trophy."
"Harry, I . . ." Katie trailed off, unable to put her thoughts into words.
"Sorry, I've got a lot of things going on right now. Best replace me for now, I don't think I could focus on the game."
"I understand, Harry," Katie sighed. "You'll tell me if you change your mind?"
"I promise," he agreed. Harry felt a great sense of loss as he watched his old teammate leave the room. There was nothing he'd have enjoyed more than a game, but Quidditch was a distraction he couldn't afford, not when his plans were finally coming together. "Dobby!"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir?"
"Anything to report?"
"Dobby has removed a dark item from bad Malfoy and replaced it with a fake," the house elf replied.
"Good work." Harry laid a hand on the house elf's shoulder. "I couldn't do this without you. Thank you, Dobby."
"Dobby is happy to help," the house elf replied, chest puffed out in pride.
"Good, there are some things I need you to get for me."
"Anything, Harry Potter sir."
"Good, I need a couple more muggle books for myself and I need you to make something for yourself."
"What does Dobby need to make for Dobby?"
"Some protective gear, the plans and patterns are with the list," Harry replied, hoping to all that was holy that his friend wouldn't have to test his life on his sewing skills. Shame they didn't make chemical suits and gas masks in house elf sizes.
It took three more weeks of research before he dared allow himself hope. All his planning, all his preparation, all his work had been nothing more than a way to keep his mind focused. As the solution presented itself, he found himself broadening his horizons.
"This could work," Harry croaked, shocking himself. It could work, the thought penetrated his mind. Granted, things could go wrong, Voldemort might not be home or the Death Eaters could muster enough intelligence to fill a teaspoon and decide against launching a raid from their main safe-house. On the other hand . . . on the other hand, it might be a good idea to start planning for a future, something he hadn't dared allow himself to contemplate until that moment. He'd have no friends, he'd already accepted that, no one would dare acknowledge any relationship with him after he carried out his plans. Perhaps it was time to start looking for some place quiet where he could spend the rest of his days?
"Dobby!"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir?"
"Do you think you could get a message to the Minister without being caught?" Harry asked.
"Dobby can, Harry Potter sir."
"Tell him I'm willing to give him a way to stay in the big chair. Tell him if he wants to hear more, we're going to have to have a meeting. Just the two of us."
"Yes, Harry Potter sir."
The house elf hadn't been gone more than five minutes before he returned. "Incompetent Minister wishes to meet with you now, Harry Potter sir."
"Where?"
"Three Broomsticks, Harry Potter sir?"
"Could you make sure that he's alone? Bring him to the Shrieking Shack if he is."
"Yes, Harry Potter sir."
"Make sure it's really him and make sure he doesn't have any portkeys or dark marks if you can do that too."
"Dobby can, Dobby will, Harry Potter sir."
"Thank you, Dobby."
The Minister was waiting and less than pleased by the chosen location when Harry arrived.
"What's this about?" Fudge blustered.
It only took five minutes for Harry to explain why he'd called the meeting. He then had to explain it three more times, using progressively smaller words each time until finally understanding lit the Minister's piggy eyes.
"In exchange for . . ."
"Voldemort's head," Harry agreed. "A full pardon covering all past and future actions, a full pardon for Sirius Black, and the projects I gave you. Give me those, and I'll end this war before the end of the school year."
"How about a pardon for yourself and we forget the rest?" Fudge suggested.
"How about everything I asked for before, a pardon for all my friends, and a hundred thousand galleons?" Harry countered.
"What?" Fudge squeaked. "That's preposterous."
"Do you see anyone else offering to take out Voldemort?" Harry asked calmly.
"Deal, I'll give you what you want the second his head is on my desk," Fudge agreed sourly.
"I want it in advance," Harry said calmly. "Or no deal."
"How do I know you won't just run off with it?" Fudge demanded.
"You don't. Was there anyone else offering to do the job?" Harry smiled. "I also want five more projects, muggle identification saying that I'm over eighteen, and a binding agreement that the Ministry will leave me alone."
"You can't . . . what do you mean, leave you alone?"
"Your problem, Minister, is that you see me as a threat to your position. The fact is, you're right, I could be. Agree to leave me alone and then I'll be compelled to leave you alone, it's common courtesy."
"I see." Fudge stared at the boy for a few moments. "Deal."
"Pleasure doing business with you, Minister."
"Just stay out of politics till after I retire."
"I think I can agree to that," Harry said with a smile.
Privately, Harry was more than a bit amazed by the fact that Fudge was true to his word. The next day, the front page of the Prophet was headlined by the news that new evidence had cleared Sirius Black, laying the blame for the travesty of justice squarely at the feet of Fudge's political opponents and the credit for overturning the miscarriage of justice that had befallen a pureblood scion squarely in the Minister's lap. Say what you would about the corrupt bastard, he knew politics.
As the days counted down, Harry threw himself into completing the last minute details of his plans. He began skipping meals and classes with alarming regularity. The Professors noticed, the other students noticed, his friends noticed. Shame he'd gotten too deep, there was no turning back now, he had to do what he'd agreed to do, he had to fulfill his destiny.
The final day arrived and Harry felt a strange sense of calmness overtake him. When night fell, he'd either be victorious and on his way to a peaceful life or he'd be dead. There was no middle ground, it was an oddly comforting thought.
He waylaid Draco and his bookends before they had a chance to cause any trouble, stripped them of everything, and locked them in an empty broom closet. They'd be rescued and forced to endure the humiliation of being found naked, or they'd succumb thirst and be found dead. Harry cared not which, but he figured that he'd be soaking his hands with so much blood that it wouldn't hurt to spare a life or two.
Harry left the three bound boys to their fate and set off to meet his at the vanishing cabinet.
"Dobby!"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir?"
"Do you have those potions I asked you to get?"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir," Dobby agreed.
"Good, I want you to banish them through the cabinet after I open it, then get to the side so you don't get hurt if something comes through."
"Dobby will, Harry Potter sir."
Harry flung open the cabinet and was promptly covered in dust from the first explosions. He cast the bubble head charm on himself and put on his mask, sparing a moment to make sure he had a good seal. "Send in the special package and then get out of here, Dobby!" his muffled voice ordered.
"Yes, Harry Potter sir!" The house elf complied. "Good luck, Harry Potter sir!"
Harry darted through the cabinet and into the cloud of poison that was settling into Voldemort's latest hideout. It hadn't been difficult to resurrect the horror of the Great War, not with a full potions lab, a Minister that owed him favors, and a hyperactive house elf.
He found a scene of horror on the other side of the cabinet. Bellatrix was bisected, her face recognizable only because it'd been shielded by the shredded bodies of her compatriots. The blood of ten men licked at his ankles, causing the boy to take a moment to drink in the scene before moving on.
Fifteen paces on, he stepped over the choking form of Lucius Malfoy, the man's eyes were swollen and the characteristic blisters were already beginning to appear. It would have been a mercy to end the man with a quick spell, Harry walked on.
'Bastard had better be home or I won't be able to keep my promise to the Minister,' he thought to himself. Luck was with the boy and he found the self styled Lord Anagram choking to death at the foot of his throne aside the coward that had betrayed the Potter family. It took them ten minutes to die, Harry enjoyed every second of it.
A severing charm and a block of lucite took care of his promise to the Minister and Harry so no reason to linger in the charnel house he'd created.
He stepped back into Hogwarts. The room of requirements, sensing his need had already set up a decontamination area. He closed the cabinet and stepped into the chemical shower, it wouldn't do to die now and be denied his reward, not after experiencing his moment of triumph.
"Dobby!"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir?"
"Give this to the Minister and then either stay here, join me on the boat, or do whatever you wish," Harry ordered, handing the little elf the block of lucite containing Voldemort's head.
"Dobby will be joining you, Harry Potter sir."
"Better hurry then, I'm leaving with the tide," Harry advised.
A quick portkey took him to the heavily enchanted yacht he'd had the minister prepare as part of their deal. A faint pop informed him that Dobby had arrived and he cast off the lines and allowed the boat to pilot itself out to sea.
He made a dozen stops on the way to the earth's sole uninhabited continent. All in all, it took him nearly a month of sailing and three weeks of travel across the ice before he arrived at the bottom of the world.
He was only two miles away from the nearest humans and walking on land that hadn't seen air in half a million years. Harry was proud of his new home under the ice. The greenhouse was a marvel of magical engineering, filled with forests, lakes and fields. Twenty Hogwarts could have comfortably inhabited it with their grounds without taking up all the space. Building it was a feat that had taken months of of labor from the best enchanters in Europe to create and months more for the best warders the Goblins had to ensure he'd have peace. Harry closed his eyes, for the first time since he could remember, he was at peace, content.
AN: Attacking through a vanishing cabinet always struck me as a good idea that could potentially go very bad, very quickly.
Typos by: Stephni Warner
Omake: The shape of things to come?
or
How I might continue this if I were so inclined.
Maybe six months of solitude was great, after eight he started getting bored, he has several portals set up connecting his refuge with different parts of the outside world and after another few weeks, decided it was high time he used one.
Harry was amazed to learn that there were schools that would train anyone to deal violence for a payment of gold and time. As he had plenty of gold and nothing but time, he attended the best until they to lost their allure.
They say that once one has hunted man, they are no longer satisfied with other prey. Harry didn't know, he'd never tried other game and he saw no reason to try it. It had been almost pathetically easy to break into the the man's office. One would think being the top magical law enforcement officer would mean they'd have a bit of security.
The man walked in and sat at his desk for nearly a minute before he noticed that he was not alone.
"Who are you?" he gasped.
"Savage," Harry replied, giving the name of what he'd become to destroy Voldemort. "I hear you have a dark lord problem?"
AN: No plans and no motivation to continue this and I much prefer the direction meteoricshipyards took in his Omake than the one I took in mine.
Omake by meteoricshipyards
He reclined on the couch when a noise from the nearby bushes had his wand in his hand instantly. He was about to fire a spell when a blond head appeared over the rose bush.
"Hello, Harry Potter. You haven't seen any giant purple snorklewackers around, have you?"
"I'm sure I haven't, but..."
"Good. Cause one is after me. Do you mind if I hide out here for a while?"
"I wasn't expecting..."
"Thank you," she said, interrupting again. She sat at one end of the couch. "Go ahead, lie down again."
"But..."
"There's plenty of room."
"But..."
"Lie down!"
"Yes, Luna."
"Have you ever head a foot massage, Harry?"
"Er, no."
"Then this will be a new experience..."