He had the face of a teenager. Even now, on her deathbed, wrinkles marring her face, he looked the same as he did at seventeen, when he first discovered those cursed objects.
He was now believed to be her grandson. She still remembered when they were dating, when they were married; part of her wished to return to those times. She felt guilty every time she looked at his perpetually youthful face with anything resembling marital love. Her deep red hair had faded to white, her brown eyes now surrounded by wrinkles. She was one hundred and fifty eight years old, and she was about to die.
But what was worse was that she was old.
Her husband of these one hundred and thirty eight years stood next to her, hand gripping her wrinkled one, tears slowly filling his startling emerald eyes. Once upon a time, those eyes were known throughout the world. No longer. The lightning bolt scar upon his forehead was no longer the recognized symbol it once was.
He had been Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.
The title made her bitter now.
He had been marked by the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort, one of the darkest wizards of his time. Voldemort and his forces had murdered his parents, godfather, family friends…they had taken so much from him. When Harry had turned seventeen, he had been attempting to reverse the processes keeping Voldemort alive – dark objects called Horcruxes. The Horcruxes acted as soul jars, tethering Voldemort to the mortal plane. Harry had travelled the country, destroying the Horcruxes, before returning to his old school to fight the final battle with Lord Voldemort. It was there that he received the final member of a trio of objects known collectively as the Deathly Hallows.
The Elder Wand had been won from Draco Malfoy earlier that year. He had inherited the Cloak of Invisibility at the age of eleven, although he did not recognize its importance. And it was at Hogwarts that Harry had been given the Resurrection Stone and become the Master of Death.
While he could determine when her soul began the Next Great Adventure, he could not stop the signs of aging. At first it had been people assuming that Harry was her son. Then the grandchild comments had started. And now she was ready to die.
The marriage had been wonderful. She still loved the raven-haired boy beside her. But every day she spent with him was a reminder of the days they were together – when she could count the number of wrinkles she had on one hand, when grey hair was a mere figment of her imagination.
He still loved her. He never passed up an opportunity to tell her. When she was sobbing after somebody made the first grandchild assumption, he had held her close and whispered his love into her ear.
But she was tired.
During the funeral, an unexpected face approached Harry. Draco Malfoy had attended the funeral of Ginny Weasley. Harry almost laughed at that. Malfoy had never passed up an opportunity to rib the Weasleys, whether for their "blood-traitor" views or their poverty. And now Malfoy, looking exactly as he had at seventeen, approached the Boy Who Lived.
"Potter," he greeted.
"Malfoy," Harry responded. The two stood in a mildly uncomfortable silence that neither felt.
"I see you're looking youthful," Harry finally said.
"While not all of us have your special circumstances, I received an unexpected gift," the Malfoy scion said. "After you defeated the Dark Lord, the Dark Mark network was a little…confused.
"Apparently they were feeding magic and life force into the Dark Lord, and when he snuffed it, they fixated on the last addition to the Death Eaters."
"You drained them all."
"Of course," said Draco. "What else would I do?"
Harry gave a slight laugh. "Of course. Even your father?"
"I am thankful for his sacrifice."
"Of course you are."
The silence dragged on.
"I'm going to focus on government," Malfoy finally said. "Become an emperor or something."
"Have you heard about the environmental problems?" asked the blond.
"Yes. The Muggles are going to evacuate the planet and head to outer space."
"I'm going to go along with them."
Malfoy threw up his hands. "Find something to live for, Potter," he said, exasperated. "Or are you going to be a constantly angsty immortal?"
Harry hummed under his breath. Draco shrugged and walked away.
Harry examined the location. It was called the Academy. Things with mysterious names never meant well. The Alliance. The Academy. Blue Sun.
These things were not good. They hid themselves behind mysterious labels because nobody ever looked there. And that meant that bad things could happen and nobody would ever know for sure.
He pulled the Cloak of Invisibility over his head, disappearing from all sensor mechanisms. There was a sense of madness in the building. Clinical madness. Intentional chaos.
He spied on a meeting between a doctor pretending to be a member of management and the man in charge of the Academy. He didn't like the man in charge. He was slimy. The doctor was naïve. Simon Tam reminded him of himself during his school years.
What? Why did he think of his school years? He had spent over a century without thinking of that time period.
Oh. Someone wanted to read his mind. That explained things.
The doctor did something and knocked everyone out. Harry let the wave of energy pass through him without any effects. He followed the doctor and the sister who was trying to read his mind out to a lift and followed them aboard.
The sister was put in cryogenic sleep and into a box. Harry sat on the box and thought about things.
He hadn't thought about things in a while.
Draco Malfoy was at the head of the Alliance. Blue Sun. The Academy.
Draco Malfoy was not being nice to people. He never was. Power meant more to the man than any person ever did.
Sometimes Harry wondered if it was better. Draco focused his existence on the acquisition of power. He had focused his existence on helping people.
Of course, they still left him when they died.
It always made him sad. When time had lost meaning, he had started to measure his life in loss. It seemed more relevant.
He would help this doctor's sister. Maybe she would last longer than the others who had spent time around him.
Draco would not like this. Perhaps Harry and Draco would have a confrontation.
That would be interesting.