Free At LastAuthor:
He's done. The Wizarding World can go hang themselves for all he cares. And woe be the one who tries to drag him back.Characters/Pairings:
Starts at PG13 but may go up.Timeline:
Takes place a few weeks after the DoM battle. 6th year fic.Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter. Some rich, blonde, English woman does. I'm just playing in her backyard.Author's Note:
This was a plot bunny submitted to the Plot Bunnies Yahoo Group. I thought I'd give it a go. Please tell me if you think I should continue it. This is the first thing I've attempted to write in nearly 7 months.
- - -Dear Wizarding World,
In the last couple weeks since my godfather was killed in the Department of Mysteries when Voldemort revealed himself, I've seen call after call for me to do something about Voldemort. This nonsense about "Why isn't the Chosen One doing anything about these attacks?" is the last straw. There was a prophecy that indirectly had something to do with me, but that prophecy was fulfilled fifteen years ago. My job is done, as Voldemort was defeated when I was a baby.
For that matter, why should I do anything at all? The Ministry wants me to endorse them, and forget all about how they persecuted me for the last year. They are like "Yes, the Dark Lord was back after all, now would you please tell them we are doing a good job?" This is the same ministry that sent two Dementors to have me kissed, then rigged a trial in front of a full court for using magic in front of muggles to defend myself. Let me remind you idiots, that the muggle I did magic in front of was my own cousin, the only offspring of my mother's, Lily Evans Potter's, sister! And to top it off, they allowed a Ministry employee to teach Defense Against The Dark Arts for nearly a full year when I know for certain that this...woman (and I use that term loosely as she puts in my mind the image of a ghastly wart-covered toad dyed pink), does not have any experience in Dark Arts, defense of it or a teacher's certificate of any sort. She was simply put there by your corrupt ministry to "put me in my place". I mean really? A Blood Quill? When I've survived numerous rounds of The Cruciatus curse at Voldemort's own hand? Pah-lease!
Is the mastermind behind all this in Azkaban? No, she was released from St. Mungos and is now back in a position of power in the Ministry. I'm vilified for daring to call her on her behavior, yet every little thing I do gets vilified and I'm asked to prove my intentions otherwise with threats of snapping my wand. The Ministry had no problem with her trying to force me to drink Veritaserum so they can go on a fishing expedition to find something to charge me with so they can ship me to Azkaban, but they absolutely refuse to question her about her activities under the same drug. Nor will they question the marked Death Eaters in that very same Ministry, such as Yaxley or McNair.
This is not a government I can support.
Then there was the slander campaign that was allowed to be launched against me for an entire year. Why should I risk myself to save a society and government that is willing to go to such extremes against a 15 year old boy, but when a real threat like Voldemort and his Death Eaters shows up, is too scared to take any action against them? It seems that Voldemort's faction already controls the Ministry, and given my past history with them, I have no doubt that if I were to somehow kill him today, by tomorrow I'd be tossed in Azkaban for his murder.
So, I say to you, leave me out of this war, you've done your best over the last year to make me feel unwelcome and unwanted, calling me an attention seeking liar and lots of other nasty things, and criticizing how wrong I was for every event that has happened to me. So, solve your own Dark Lord problem. I'm done with your society. I have no desire to live in such a world, especially since I know the minute you no longer need me to take out Voldemort, you'll turn on me like you did last year.
I've been repeatedly told by the adults I should have left it to them after my various adventures, so this time I'm going to do just that. I'm leaving the Dark Lord problem to the adults and going to try to be a normal teenager. All my attempts to fight for what is right have gotten me nothing but more grief, getting myself yelled at, endangering my friends and loved ones, and then being locked up and kept in the dark. I'm done fighting, it's your turn to save yourselves. If you don't like that, you should have done something a year ago when I was still willing to help, instead of permitting that slander campaign and going along with it while sending all that hate mail.
I'm leaving this god forsaken country that has given me nothing but grief.
P.S. I have no doubt the Ministry will now find some trumped-up crime for me to be accused of so they can try to demand extradition, if they even bother with that rather than just invading whatever country I decide to visit and kidnapping me away. Know that if I'm forced back for whatever reason, I'm more likely to attack the government officials who ordered my kidnapping than I am likely to off Voldemort.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" Have a nice life. I know I will. Suckers!
P.S.S.S. Did you know that "I Am Lord Voldemort" is an anagram for "Tom Marvolo Riddle"? That's Voldemort's real name, one that he has hated all his life since his muggle father, Tom Riddle Sr. left his witch-born mother, Merope Gaunt when he found out what she was. Look it up if you don't believe me, Merlin knows no one ever does. It's public knowledge.
- - -
This letter had taken up the whole front page of various wizarding newspapers across the globe, including both The Quibbler
and The Daily Prophet
. The outcry was enormous. Many calls to Hogwarts only provided more questions than answers as no one had taken notice that Harry had quietly left the castle shortly before dawn that very morning, leaving behind his school robes and letters for various friends and teachers.
He was on a plane headed for California by the time Albus Dumbledore followed by an angry Severus Snape and his own head of house stormed into the sixth year Gryffindor dorms to stop Harry from leaving, only to realize he was already gone. Severus, having the satisfaction of making Ron wet his pants in fright when the boy had seen the evil Potions Master standing over his bed when he opened his eyes, demanded to know where Potter was, threatening to use Veritaserum on the trembling redhead when Ron stammered that he didn't know where Harry had gone. Neville had simply fainted when Severus turned his obsidian gaze his direction, making Severus roll his eyes in annoyance. Minerva scowled at him for frightening her lions. Albus simply snatched up the letters left on Harry's bed and stormed back to his office, hoping one would give him a clue as to where Harry might have gone.
He opened the first letter, addressed to Ron, and was hit by a hex that caused the words "Thief" and "Liar" to blink in neon colors across his forehead. No matter what he tried, he could not remove the hex. He had sent for both Severus and Poppy, neither one knowing how to despell the headmaster. If Albus had been looking at the letter he had opened, he would have seen the following words: "See what happens when you go and stick your lemon sherbert sucking arse into other people's business? - HP"
- - - -
In the darkest part of an old decrepit manor house, another was angry at the letter on the front page of The Prophet that an unfortunate soul had thought to bring him. His cry of rage as he reached the bottom of the letter, scared even the strongest of his Death Eaters and each one within hearing range quickly and quietly apparated out before they were called to suffer their Master's punishment. "Harry Potter must die
!" he hissed, kicking the smoldering pile that once housed a human being.