They say you only live once, whoever they are they're wrong. Harry had definitely lived more than once according to modern age science. Apparently the common life span for the average human male in this day and age is mid to late seventies, so applied accordingly Harry had lived more than a couple 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 an answer to a question they don't know they were trying to answer.

Harry had reached a certain age were he viewed most things from a slightly unique perspective. Hermoine and most of the Weasley clan had believed he was just barmy and his thoughts to 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 him he was just Harry.

Just Harry, such a simple sentence yet those words almost made him choke with an unfamiliar emotion. He wished he was just Harry, an average man with a simple family and a normal job to support them, but he wasn't. No, he was Harry The-Boy-Who-Lived-Forever while the people he loved died and went to heaven to live with their families.

Harry paused in his thoughts and considered what that meant for him. He would never see his parents again, his godfather Sirius, his best friends Hermoine and Ron, or the rest of the Weasley clan who had become his adopted 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 from the edges of one of the few remaining forest that survived in the technology dependent world. Wide pools of emerald watched from behind a small pair of spectacles as the people went about their everyday routines getting chores done and watching over their children.

It was useless, those children wouldn't live long if they survived to adulthood. The Earth was dieing, 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 creatures on Mother Earth who couldn't interact with her had acquired the means to survive semi-comfortably.

As Harry had witnessed unfortunately, the muggles just continued to advance their so called knowledge and 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 her if such were happening 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.