Leaving Isn't Easy

Mucho amor to my beat, Miss Mady!

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It would have been so easy.

Easy to walk down that street and never come back; to leave all that I had ever known to find new challenges, successes, and failures; to cast aside the years of Dursley and Wizarding influence and blaze my own way through the world.

They didn't need me. I was strictly the diplomat now. If Britain needed someone to talk to some high up German official, they sent me against my will. I only went because Shacklebolt and Lupin suggested playing nice until I had become such an integral part to the Aurors that they couldn't fire me. Lupin would clap me on the shoulder and say, “Buck up, Harry. It won't be long with your skills.” But I hated every minute of it. That's not to say I didn't meet interesting people. A certain Grecian wizard comes to mind. He still lets me come into the country with no visa and no security so I can disappear from time to time.

The Weasleys were moving on. Percy and Charlie's deaths were very hard on them. I think that somewhere deep down, Molly blamed me for their deaths. It would be in that subtle glare she sent me whenever she said their names. All of them moved away except for Ron. He stayed with Luna in the country. They have five kids at least and it's still a joy to play with them all.

I would have left even them just to escape. In my sleep, I see the children that my dead classmates will never have. I see widows and children growing up without fathers and mothers. People have told me to move on. I'll never be able to do that. Not as long as I live.

One day, I stood at the door in Grimmauld Place and stared outside. I remember it was a perfect night: a full moon, free of clouds, and warm. All I had to do was go down the steps, turn to the right, and keep walking until I found a place to start anew. I would be free from the burdens of being Harry Potter. I had no more duty to anyone. I could be free. And then she spoke.

“I wouldn't blame you. I'd love you always.”

Hermione.

Not a day goes by that I don't thank the powers-that-be for her. She's the only one who's ever understood my goings and comings. When I vanish for a few weeks and return, she doesn't get upset or cry. She welcomes me with a hug and a kiss and a simple, “I missed you.” It makes me glad that Neville lost his toad all those years ago. I'd never find another woman even if I lived a dozen more lifetimes. I'd look for her in every one.

She tells me that she's always prepared to see my side of the bed empty someday and know that I'm not coming back that time. That I'll write, but we'd always be apart. I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't do that to me.

It's not so easy to leave anymore and I thank Merlin for it.

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