Edited Version: see Chapt. 4
disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
War was hell. That much he knew. Although he had never tried to deny it, or thought it was a picnic, that didn't mean he had to like it. Harry Potter gave a grim laugh at his title of being 'The Boy Who Lived'. He wondered if it could be changed to 'The Boy Who Lived at the Expense of Others'. James and Lily Potter, Professor Quirrell, Bertha Jorkins, Barty Crouch, Cedric Diggory, Sirius... they were just the beginning of what had become a tragically long list.
Unfortunately, in his time since Hogwarts, it had continued with too many people who had meant the world to him. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Snape, Dumbledore, not to mention the countless others he hadn't even known. Voldemort was finally gone, Harry had killed him just as the prophecy had dictated, but he felt that the price was much too high. Harry's future felt like a black hole, nothing to look forward to.
It had been an entire day since Voldemort's downfall, but the magical world was in such distress, that the battleground had remained silent and still as the grave. Nobody from the Ministry had yet reached the scene, due to the fact that they were busy all across Britain mending damage that Voldemort had left in his wake.
Harry had tracked Voldemort to a forest in Scotland where the Dark Lord was hollowing up with what was left of his followers. Unfortunately, the Order of the Phoenix's numbers had been equally devastated. The loss of Dumbledore had been the straw that had broken the camel's back. No matter how hard the Order's members had tried, they couldn't seem to pull themselves together. Some had left; tired of watching their friends die. Others had rushed into battles, determined to gain some sort of revenge for what had happened.
When Harry had finally tracked Voldemort to the forest, he was accompanied by only five of the remaining members of the Order, two of which had been Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy. Something had changed Malfoy during the summer his father had been sent to Azkaban. To Harry's surprise, when he had returned for their sixth year, he had approached Harry to join the DA. It had taken most of their sixth year for Harry to finally trust Draco, and almost twice as long for Ron to come around. But the fact that he had tried to get along with Malfoy, even when he was skeptical, had been a reminder to Harry of how good a friend Ron was.
Harry heard the crackle of twigs behind him and turned to see Draco approaching through a thick layer of fog that had gathered in the low areas of the glade, his robes billowing dramatically, making Harry think of his former potions master. Only Harry, Draco, and Neville had survived the attack on Voldemort and they had remained in the woods to make sure there weren't any other Death Eaters still lurking about.
"Harry, Longbottom and I are pretty sure there's nobody else in the forest. We just received an owl from the Ministry. They're trying to track down some Aurors to clean up this mess." His face was streaked with dirt and it looked like he hadn't had a decent nights sleep in over a week. Harry was sure that he didn't look much better.
"I'm not sure I want them to come," Harry said with a deep sigh as he sat down on a fallen tree. It crunched slightly underneath him, clearly rotted through, and the bark was damp. He didn't care; his robes were already wet and rumpled. The hem glistened slightly with a red liquid. He didn't want to think about what it was.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, a frown on his face. "Harry, it's over. You can finally rest."
"Yeah, but I've got nothing. Everybody's dead." His voice was barely louder than a whisper. Draco was his friend, but he never had meant as much to Harry as Ron and Hermione, to much bad blood had happened in their past to allow that. Draco and Neville were all that were left of his friends. Neville had been lucky enough to have a girlfriend who had survived the war and they were now going to have a chance at happiness. Harry wasn't about to force his presence on them. He would only serve as a reminder of the horrible past. "I don't know if I can face the wizarding world again. I've given them to much."
Draco was quiet for a few minutes then, "So you're leaving. Are you going to live with the Muggles?" Over the past four years, Draco had made great strides toward becoming more accepting of Muggles, but there was still some disgust in his voice.
"Probably. At least there I can live a quiet life, instead of being looked at as some sort of war hero."
"I guess I understand," Draco said, folding his arms across his chest. Harry knew he didn't, but appreciated his attempt.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't think I can be here any longer." He looked around him and saw bodies strewn between the trees, some of them were casualties from their side. "Will you tell Neville that I appreciate everything he's done, and that I hope he and his girlfriend have a wonderful life?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah, I'll tell him. What do you want me to tell the Ministry?"
Harry shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. Tell them whatever you'd like."
"So I can tell them you're a cross dresser by night?" Draco asked, raising a quirked eyebrow to lighten the situation.
"Sure, if that's what you really want to tell them," Harry said, forcing a grin. "Just make sure you set them straight on your nighttime activities also."
"Yes, Potter. Always one for the dramatics," Draco drawled. For a second, it was a flash of the Malfoy he had once known and loathed, but the smile on his face extended to his eyes. It was genuine, one shared between friends. "Thank you for everything, and I'm sorry. I wish Ron and Hermione were here so I could tell them as well."
"I do to," Harry said, a lump rising in his chest. "Go find something to do with yourself, Malfoy, and try to forget about everything that happened here."
"Will do," Draco replied, and with a crack, Harry disapparated.
"Malfoy, has Harry gone already?" A voice drifted from behind him and he turned to face it.
"Yes, he just did."
"Why didn't you tell him to wait a minute? You knew I was coming." Neville Longbottom emerged from the fog and he was frowning.
"I did tell him," Draco said with an innocent expression. "He said he couldn't get away from you fast enough."
"Very funny, Draco," Neville said sarcastically, "But seriously, did he say anything before he left?"
"Yeah, he did," Draco said, turning more serious. "He said that he hoped things worked out well for you and Matilda and that he needed a break from everything."
"But he's coming back isn't he?"
"I don't know," Draco said thoughtfully. "Maybe not to the wizarding world, at least not for a while, but I think he'll get back to us in a few days."
Neville nodded absentmindedly. "I suppose so," he replied slowly. "Come on then, the Ministry said someone would be here soon, and we should probably go to greet them. Someone could get lost in fog like this."
"Indeed they could," Draco said, grinning to himself at the prospect of some Ministry official like Percy Weasley stumbling blindly through the fog.