Chapter Text
Harry James Potter decided that enough was enough. Ever since he won the damn war in 1999, even now years later at 22, the damn press and obsessive fans have been chasing him day and night. Being an Auror was a nightmare, constantly reliving his nightmares from the days of hunting and being hunted during the war. His “friends” seemed completely recovered, married, and with stable jobs.
Harry wasn’t stable enough for that before. Thanks to his job as an Auror, Harry was legally required to attend therapy with a mind healer, and he would never admit it, but it helped to heal his mind from all the trauma and accept that not everything was his fault. Harry took the opportunity to go through everything from the beginning with the Dursleys up to the day before starting therapy, and that did him good. He also went to a goblin healer in Gringotts to have his body fully healed, and moved out of Sirius’s old house, which was too dark like a tomb, and settled into the Potter Manor, where he learned about his own family through portraits, books, and the Potter grimoire.
He learned from Gringotts tutors how to be a true Lord, managing the finances of the three ancient families he now controlled. He studied law whenever and whatever he wanted, discovering that without anyone pushing him, he learned magic more easily.
Another thing is that the Deathly Hallows returned to him even after he had thrown one away and broken another, but now all three had fully merged with his body. The cloak on his back, the ring on his finger like a tattoo, and the wand melted into the palm of his hand, leaving a thin scar in the shape of the Peverell symbol. Now Harry could become completely invisible both physically and magically with the power of the cloak, summon souls that would always speak the truth before him and even learn from them, and he could now perform magic without a wand, using only his will.
In addition, all the magic that the Elder Wand knew gradually merged into Harry’s soul, causing him to inherit, in an instinctive and practical way, millennia of knowledge from all the wizards who had ever owned it. Especially Grindelwald, Dumbledore, and Voldemort—the three greatest wizards of the century—as well as many others before them. Now Harry possessed their knowledge and practical experience, engraved into his body, soul, magic, and instincts.
Many lost ancient spells and new ones—Harry took a long period of leave when this happened after the war to heal himself and train all this knowledge, to truly feel that he had mastered so many forms of magic. And he soon realized that he had become immortal when he turned 22 and stopped aging, having to use an illusion spell to match the age he would have otherwise continued to grow into.
Recalling all of this, Harry sighed as he packed his belongings into the small pouch hanging around his neck, which had a larger interior space where he kept his most important items, as well as his new trunk-apartment. Harry updated all the protective enchantments on his Potter and Black residences, and the Peverell Castle, where Harry had also studied the knowledge there using a Time-Turner he had kept since the battle in the Department of Mysteries in his fifth year. Since he was already immortal, he no longer worried about growing too old.
With all the magical knowledge Harry now possessed, all his properties were impossible to find by any means or magical creature, and impossible to break into. With everything ready, Harry activated the power of the cloak, becoming invisible, and simply Apparated to Port Angeles, Washington in the United States, silently and without alerting the continental American protections. After all, Harry had the power and experience for it. He had already handled all the legal requirements to live in the US, with both Muggle and magical citizenship, buying a house, and he sighed in relief as he stepped into his new home—protected to hell and back.
To Harry’s surprise, a few days before he decided to leave, Fawkes, Dumbledore’s former phoenix, appeared and bonded with him as his familiar. Now Harry took the phoenix in its little bird form out of his pocket after its rebirth and placed it on its perch in the living room, with a tray underneath to collect the ashes.
“—Well, home sweet home, Fawkes.” Harry looked at his phoenix with a smile as it chirped softly in its little bird form.