They say you only live once. Not so for Harry Potter, he had lived more than once…at least according to modern age science. The common life span for the average human male was mid to late seventies, so applied accordingly Harry had lived more than a couple of lives.
As the centuries passed by and technology advanced, the humans that developed it hadn't changed much. There were nice humans, depressed humans, angry humans, curious humans, and apathetic ones as well. Most lived average lives, working day and night to give their lives purpose. Others waged war and believed that the mindless violence had meaning, and still others searched the world around them looking for answers.
Harry had reached a certain age, he now viewed most things from a slightly unique perspective. Before Hermione, and the Weasley clan, had passed away they believed he was just barmy and his thoughts too random to understand. The twins Fred and George on the other hand, had simply patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner and told them he was just Harry.
Just Harry…such a simple statement, yet those words almost made him choke with emotion. He wished every day that he was just Harry, an average man with a simple family and a normal job. But no, he was Harry, "The-Boy-Who-Lived," and the people he loved–everyone he cared about…passed on; they went on to the afterlife to live with their families.
Harry paused in his thoughts and considered what that meant for him. Harry would never see his parents again, his godfather Sirius, his best friends Hermione and Ron, or the rest of the Weasley clan who had become his family. Even after so many years a sob tore through Harry's chest at the hopelessness he felt from his situation. Tears trailing down his pale and hallowed cheeks, Harry gazed at the small town in front of him. He stood at the edge of one of the few remaining forests in the technology dependent world he lived in. Wide pools of emerald watched from behind a pair of spectacles as the people went about their everyday routines, getting chores done and watching over children.
It was useless, those children wouldn't live long if they survived to adulthood. The Earth was dying, the balance between magic and technology had been all but destroyed. Technology wasn't meant to develop beyond a certain point. It was meant to stop developing when the muggles on Mother Earth had acquired the means to survive comfortably.
Harry had witnessed the muggles continually advance their knowledge, which they called science. They developed even more pollutants and destructive machines, the likes of which Mother Earth could never heal from. The magical inhabitants that were meant to protect Mother Earth became so overwhelmed with their fear, of detection and immediate extinction, that they spread far from one another and slowly perished in their hideaways.
Only Harry was left now.
Hey everyone, I'm reviewing and editing the published chapters of this story. No new chapters yet, but I'm trying to start the creative process by rereading this and doing a little editing. Hope everyone is doing well!