Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Parallel: Harry Potter ❯ Return of the Savior ( Chapter 3 )

Title: Parallel: Harry Potter - Return of the Savior

Author: Shadow Rebirth

Rating: T/PG-13

Chapter WC: 861

Story WC: 3,859

First Written: November 15, 2008

Last Edited: November 26, 2008

Posted: November 26, 2008

 

Summary: After his godfather's death Harry abandoned the wizarding world and fled to America. Six years later his world is once again ripped apart.

 

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Parallel: Harry Potter

 

Chapter 3

Return of the Savior

 

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Harry Potter smiled. He was content as he'd ever been, and hopefully it would stay that way. The twenty two year old man—and ex-wizard, but no one knew about that anymore—took another sip of his drink, laughing readily as his two friends sitting across from him joked around.

 

This life-style, for lack of a better term, had started six years ago, at the end of his fifth year of Hogwarts. It seemed like a lifetime ago already and in a way it was.

 

After his godfather's death and being told about the prophecy, Harry had snapped. Literally. A part of it might have been because of teenage hormones, but Harry wasn't complaining. He'd decided that he'd had enough of the wizarding world. He'd had enough of their shit and enough of them piling their problems on top of him.

 

That summer, Harry left the wizarding world for good. Some might say—and indeed, had said—that he was deserting them, but he was beyond caring. He was content to let them rot for their sins.

 

Leaving his past life behind, Harry had fled to America. Once there it hadn't been too difficult to acquire some anti-tacking wards and then disappear into the muggle world. Though he'd never managed to get himself to throw his wand away, he hadn't used it since he'd left.

 

Since then his life had improved drastically. Under an assumed name he'd gone back to school and had eventually even gotten a degree from college. He was now living in New York City, sharing an apartment with his two closest friends. They knew nothing of the wizarding world and had never heard of Harry Potter, and that was exactly how he wanted to keep it.

 

Sometimes Harry would get the urge to write to his old friends, just to see how they were doing. But he didn't, because he knew that he couldn't take the chance that he might be found. He just wasn't willing to risk it. He even went to the point that he completely blocked himself from the magical world and its news, just to make sure that he wouldn't be tempted. Voldemort had surely been taken out by now anyway.

 

Unfortunately, Fate had always liked Harry far too much and had never released her claws from around his throat, no matter how far he ran away. But Harry didn't know this.

 

As such, Harry was just as shocked as everyone else when the block around the small café in was in suddenly began shaking as if a bomb had been dropped. He and his friends ran out of the building with everyone else, wondering what the hell was going on. The very second they stepped outside however, Harry froze in shock.

 

Death Eaters.

 

They were shooting spells everywhere, right in the middle of the street. Harry flinched when harsh screams tore through the air as a Cruciatus Curse struck someone. People began panicking and pushing into each other as they all tried to get away.

 

It was chaos.

 

And in the middle of it all stood Voldemort, cackling as insanely as ever. He looked exactly the same as the last time Harry had seen him in the Ministry of Magic in London. Dark robes swirled around him, making him look like exactly what he was: A Dark Lord.

 

Harry would never be sure what happened in the next few minutes. Once he'd been sure that Voldemort wasn't after him, but just there to cause panic, he ran like everyone else, desperate to get away. It wasn't as though he could defend himself if he wanted to anyway; his wand was tucked safely away back in his apartment.

 

Then Harry something that he would never forget, or forgive: The bodies of his two friends lying in the street. Their eyes were open and glassy and their faces contorted with pain and fear. They had not been killed with the Killing Curse, but instead with various dark, painful spells.

 

Harry froze in his tracks, unable to take his eyes away from the sight before him. In just a few chaotic seconds, his happy little life had been ripped away from him. He'd run from England to escape Voldemort, to escape the wizarding world, but in the end it'd all been for naught. Voldemort had wound up winning anyway.

 

Harry couldn't help but wonder if he'd been deluding himself the whole time. If he'd unconsciously known that he'd never been able to get away from his fate, but had wanted to think that he could anyway. He'd heard many times that running away never solved anything, but he was only now beginning to realize how true that was.

 

As the telltale cracks of Apparation sliced through the air, Harry began to back away. The American wizards would no doubt wipe the memories of all the muggles in the area. The dark haired man narrowed his eyes on Voldemort's laughing face once more before finally slipping away.

 

Fine. If Voldemort wanted a war, he'd get one. Harry had nothing left here now. It might be six years late, but he was finally ready.

 

He would return.

 

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A/N: The idea for this story should be pretty obvious. Basically Harry ignored the wizarding world for so long that he didn't know that Voldemort had already taken control of most of Europe and was moving on to the Americas. A large part of the story would be about Harry's internal struggle with returning to his old life and how he'd deal with the people who feel like he "betrayed" them by leaving.

 

There's also a small chance that the story could be a crossover with Supernatural, but I'd have to tweak some things in the plot for that to work.

 

--S.R.