FicWad

Disclaimer: I dont own Harry potter dehh
It had been 30 years since the great war. 30 years since the boy who lived finally got Voldemort out of his head. Life was going fairly well for Harry. He was working 5 days a week at the ministry, his three children had gone to Hogwarts, he was able to spend all day with Hermione and Ron and the weekends traveling the world via porkey to see Ginny practicing for the quidditch world cup. It got lonely at night sometimes, he would lie awake at night thinking about his time at Privit drive, sometimes being upset that it was over and other times being happy that it was.
"Darling is the tea ready?" Ginny asked, "You were lost in thought again weren’t you?"
"Sorry just thinking about what I will do when I get home" Harry responded. The whistle on the kettle blew, and Harry poured the tea and began to drink.
"What will you do when you get home?"
"I'm not sure anymore. before my life had purpose, I was the boy who lived. So many things depended on me but now, 30 years later I'm still not sure what I am supposed to be doing," Harry explained.
Ginny was silent.
"How much longer will you be here for? Training with the team I mean" he asked.
"Until the world cup Harry you know that," Ginny replied. “Go home now, the mandrakes need to be fed or they will start screaming, the ministry will be on you in the blink of an eye if they have to obliviate the muggles again because they heard ‘the cries of abused children overnight’”
“Okay bye then, I love you.” Harry said before reaching his hand out to touch the keyring which was attached to the side of his shorts pocket. He took of from the middle of Ginnys tent.
Harry slammed back onto the floor in Diagon Alley.
“Harry its nice to see you again,” yelled Ron. Harry turned around to see his best friend waving his arm out the top of the joke shop. He turned and ran inside, just like he had been doing for years.
“Hey Ron,” said Harry.
“Hey. How’s Ginny?” Ron asked.
“She’s good, going on about feeding mandrakes or something. I didn’t even know we had mandrakes, their probably dead already. How’s business?” Asked Harry.
“Fine, just the usual.” Harry grabbed his scar, there was suddenly a searing pain cutting through his skull. Going right where it used to back when Voldemort was in his head.
“Harry! Harry!” Harry opened his eyes and looked at Ron. “It was your scar wasn’t it!” Harry nodded.
“Come back with me. We will go back to my house. Hermione will know what to do.” Ron lead Harry into the back office of the shop.
“I’ve gotta go George!” Ron yelled.
“See ya’ tomorrow then!” George replied.
“Follow me” said Ron, and Harry did. They walked into the back of the shop and each grabbed two broomsticks off the stand. They walked out into the back laneway and kicked off the ground.
Harry held on extra tight on the way home. He was in fear that his scar might begin to hurt and that Ron’s broom, even though it was the newest model of the Nimbus 2025 (my goodness had they come far since the Nimbus 2000) it might not be quite fast enough to catch Harry before he hit the ground. He was lucky that his scar began to hurt after he was home, by himself, Ron always knew what to do when Harry’s head hurt, and although it hadn’t happened for 30 years it was still routine.
Harry and Ron landed in the front garden of Hermione house. They could see the silhouette of Hermione upstairs sitting in front of her desk working in the evening light. They both walked inside without a word, Harry sat down on the sofa while Ron went to fetch Hermione.
Harry thought that Ron and Hermione’s house was very nice, it was different to Harry’s, it didn’t feel so empty, if felt loved, like their was always someone there.
“Welcome back Harry!” said Hermione.
“Thanks Hermione,” he said. Then again, just like that his head began to burn, but it was more intense that Voldemort had ever been, it wasn’t is consciousness which was burning it was his actual head. If felt like someone had shoved a tennis ball in there. Harry felt someone grabbing him and trying to shake him awake, Hermione. He felt Ron next to him with his wand throwing around different spells seeing which one might be able to get Harry back into the world.
Then the pain dulled down. Harry could see Hermione kneeling down in front of him with both hands on his shoulders.
“Harry! Harry! Come back to me!” he could hear her calling. “Tell me Harry, is it Voldemort?”
“No,” Harry mustered the strength to say. It was not at all like when he had been one of Voldemort’s horcruxes, it was like no pain Harry had ever felt.
“Hermione what’s wrong with him?” he heard Ron ask.
“I don’t know, I don’t know Ron, just wait. Hold him up I have to go upstairs and get my wand,” She said before handing the job of trying to get Harry to snap out of his pain spiral was handed over to Ron.
“Move Ron move!” Hermione yelled when she entered the room a few minutes later. She flicked her wand around like she way made for a few minutes before she stopped. A look of horror came across her face and she spoke one word quietly out of her mouth.
“Karkinos,” she said. Harry woke up.
“Hermione what’s wrong with me?” Harry asked.
“Cancer, you have cancer Harry. Brain cancer,” No that couldn’t be right could it? If it had been anyone else telling him Harry wouldn’t believe it but he trusted Hermione and she had never lied to him. Cancer, brain cancer, wow. Everything else there was a spell for, every other type of cancer was gone with the flick of a wand but not brain cancer, it stayed with you. It killed wizards and witches especially fast. Not like it did to muggles, slowly and painfully. Harry knew he only had a few hours left at the most, and who better to spend it with but the two other people who had been with him through it all.
“Are you alright Harry? What should we tell your family, what shall we tell the world?” asked Ron.
“Yeah I’m alright actually, I thought that this day would come years ago, but it didn’t I fought it off. I fought it off because I wanted to life my life, and I have. Tell everyone the truth. Tell them all that the boy who lived is dead, tell everyone how it happened,” Harry said.
“Do you want me to contact Hogwarts, we can bring your family home to see you.” Said Hermione.
“No leave them be, bring them back tomorrow, I know that they will never see me, but I think that it is best for their image of me to stay pure,” Harry requested.
The three of them sat down on the couch together Hermione on the right side of Harry and Ron on the left. Harry suddenly felt very weak, nothing else that you would expect to feel on your death bed, just weak.
“We love you Harry,” said Ron. They could all sense the death in the air.
“Whatever death is like, will you reserve us all a place?” Hermione asked.
“Always,” Harry said.
Then he closed his eyes and felt himself float deeper and deeper down until he felt a hand.
He looked up to see his mother, and his father.
Greeting him at the door to eternal life.
Harry grabbed their hand and for the first time ever, let someone else take the lead.