[ EU ] Harry Potter is sitting at home sixty years after the battle of Hogwarts , an old man now , when suddenly his scar hurts .

Harry sat at his desk, looking down at his wrinkled hands. Had that much time gone by already? A tingle. A slight itch. He scratched at his forehead, feeling the thin lines of the old scar, never quite faded with age like the others. A slight burning. That's strange, he thought, I have n't felt that in a while. My wizard senses are tingling. 
 Suddenly, with surprising agility, he snapped to the side, a crack and a sharp whistling sound shortly following. Up he looked, right at a bullet hole in the wall precisely in line with where his head was. 
 Snipers. 
 I hate snipers, he thought to himself. With a sigh he rolled to his feet and scampered to an ordinary looking section of the wall. With a quick tap of his wand, the innocuous looking wall shifted to the sides, revealing a row of staves and rods, some ornate and bejeweled, others appearing as simple sticks. All of them radiated a strong magical aura, for those who could feel such things. 
 As more bullets cracked and whistled through the air above him, Harry lazily, almost absently, waved his wand and a half visible shield appeared around him, dissolving any bullets that dared stray too near. 
 This was n't the first time he'd had to deal with snipers, ever since the purge, he'd had to deal with all sorts of things. 
 Arms crossed, elbow propped with one hand, Harry tapped his lip as he studied the row of magical weapons in front of him. Seeming to have made up his mind, the aged wizard reached for a large golden scepter, but changed his mind and grabbed the one resembling a branch. 
 Moving over to the far wall, he drew his main wand and dissolved a magical hole in the wall in front of him. Taking up the battle wand, he sent it through a series of complex gestures, muttering as he did so. A soft ash drifted from the end of the strange wand. It streamed through the wall, gaining speed. 
 Harry started to return his wall to normal, and the hole closed on the sounds of the screaming snipers, their screams carrying far, far into the night. 
 I hate snipers, thought Harry, as he sat back down and continued browsing reddit.
