Work Text:
Over the past few centuries, it's become rather hard to care. Well, no actually that's not right at all; Harry still cares just as much as he did when he was 17. More like he's more jaded? disinterested? distanced? Whatever. Honestly, Harry's pretty done with this whole living gig, has been for a while - since he was 64 and the last of his family died. He was over it, and had no interest in seeing a therapist, never had and probably never would. Also probably why Ginny divorced him at 27, and why he started to lose his relationships with everyone once the war was over. Kidding, kidding. Not about the therapy part, he had had Ron and Hermione and that's all he needed. And his new blood family, they were nice too.
Sitting here though, overlooking the world, was kind of nice. Where was he? The moon. It'd been his most recent and second most desperate attempt to die. Clearly it failed, but Harry was admiring the view. Sighing (but not really has he has no air), he briefly wondered if he could send himself into the sun. If that would even do anything, before snickering bitterly. Of course it wouldn't. At this point, the only things he hadn't tried to get rid of this curse were among the more complicated physic-y stuff. Like, quantum mechanics, time travel, dimensional travel, etc. Mainly because the risks were too great. If he fucked around with time, there was a possibility he'd destroy it or some shit like that. Probably.
At this point, Harry decided there was no point in staying and unshrunk his broom, custom made for this with and got out a tablet to triangulate his position. Yes that's right, a tablet. Like 40 years after the war, when he was around about 55 the truth got out about magic. And honestly? Didn't go as badly as possible. Some countries, like America specifically fuckin hated wizards. And China. And Russia. And most of Europe - okay so most places weren't great. Or good. But then a potential war broke out, and Harry intervened, losing his family. He explained point blank that either both societies could learn to accept each other, or they would remain separate. Of course he made it sound a lot worse, a lot more threats but for the most part it worked.
Some scientists wanted to study magic, but Harry and the other leaders didn't allow that until a lot further down the line. And yes, there were hate crimes, cults, religious hate. But honestly? That's a pretty normal thing in the muggle world, even today. Racism, homophobia, sexism. At least magicals could defend themselves. Plus the reveal was planned for a while, even if nobody knew it. There had been a slow integration between the two worlds for a could decades before the news about magic got out. So yeah, then stuff like technomancy was created and all that science shit and stuff. Magicals helped with climate change, transfiguring the particles and atoms in the air. Making carbon dioxide oxygen, etc. Honestly it had been a few peaceful centuries now. All because of Harry. Turns out that because he never died, he was insanely powerful, plus his knowledge basically made him leader of the world. Unofficially. Racism was made illegal, bigots were reconditioned and the world was a much better place.
Too bad it had taken a few wars to get there, Harry reminisced as he casually applied a flame freezing charm to himself as he entered Earths gravity, because for all the good he'd done, there was too much hurt. A lot of pain and suffering and loss.
Fuck it.
Harry let go of his broom and cast a gravity increasing charm over himself, instantly zooming downwards at an incredible speed. The ground approached within a couple minutes, despite being hours off just minutes ago. Harry idlily checked his nails, and turned his hair pink - just to be quirky. Then. BOOM! Harry impacted the ground, body splattering instantly.
A second passed before his body started to come back together. Stretching, Harry looked around at the forest that once stood there. Now it was just a giant crater, a problem he quickly fixed. He transfigured the air to dirt and used a farming spell to quickly grow the grass back. Next he transfigured some of the dirt into saplings, duplicated them and used a different growing charm to grow them all at once. Whistling a merry tune, he created a slide of living water and quickly spread it across the area he'd impacted. Ordinarily he would've used a storm spell or something but he couldn't be bothered. He just hoped that the sentient magic water didn't mix with the magically created trees and make more sentient life forms.
See, magic is semi alive, and has the tendency to make things not so alive sentient. Take the Weasley's Ford Angela for instance. Now, no offence to Arthur, but he kinda fucked up with it. It eventually realized what was happening and ran away. Unfortunately, when magic interacts with already alive things for a long enough period of time, they become alive alive, not just a sentient machine with feelings. Fuckin robots. Like Groot or Swampthing, those superhero people that Harry's grandchildren had liked. Admittedly it was a weird thought when his son had started a family with one, but he adapted pretty well. Plus, Harry had had sex with basically everything at this point.
Yawning, he teleported to his penthouse. Not apparated, wizards and muggles had figured out so many ways to teleport at this point that it was stupid. All magic was fucking stupid at this point, Harry grumbled at the thought. Magic and their spells had developed to a point where there was no fucking point to anything. It was just a matter of cramming it into the younglings heads, but even that had been taken care of. The higher level spells from Harry's youth, like accio and sectemsumpra had been remade and fixed and all that jazz, until the newest version of the spell was taught to first years. Not even Hogwarts first years, fucking primary first years. They made it so spells cost less magic to use and shit like that.
Sighing, he opened a coke bottle and had some mcdonalds. If it weren't for the fact that Harry (and most wizards) had to constantly eat because of their magic, and had to eat a lot he'd be pretty fat by now. Nobody tells him that he's got chubby cheeks. Now, the 'have to eat cause of magic thing' was a more recent problem. Essentially, magic evolved. Not just spells, but magic itself. To be fair, so did muggles and magicals. They and their bodies all adapted, however Harry didn't because his body was o l d. Not old like dumbledore, old in the fact that he could look however he looked but was from before magic evolved. So yeah, Harry eats a lot of junk food and takeaways. Sue him.
He wonders over to his ritual room, finally deciding to say fuck it and leave this time. Or universe. He hadn't decided yet, but was packed regardless. He'd taken all his money out of the bank, now run by whoever. He had a tablet with essentially any reading thing he'd ever need on it. He had a house shrunken in his bag, along with a bunch of other shit. What can Harry say, magic is fucking boring now. So yeah, a bunch of electronics, a bunch of food, a bunch of whatever. And naturally, all this along with everything else fit into one bag. Magic takes the fun out of everything. Fuck you.
Grimacing, Harry grabs the three artefacts you've all been waiting for. One Elder Wand, One Cloak of death and one Stone of resurrection. The three hallows that may have potentially ruined his life. Of course he doesn't need a wand anymore, but he still keeps his Holly one for sentimental value. And Tom's one for the same reason. Along with Hermione's, Ron's, Ginny's, Neville's, Luna's and generally everybody close to him ever. It's a long, long list.
Absentmindedly, Harry cut off his left hand, frowning as it instantly grew back. Just for once, he'd like to experience blood loss or asphyxiation or fucking death, but what-fucking-ever. Then began chanting the special ritual words, face despondent even as a crack in the universe formed. Once finished, he looked around for the last time and smiled.
Then he walked through.