[ 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 reading the Daily Prophet checking the Quidditch scores, he scoffed out loud as he passed over the walloping Austria had laid on England the last Saturday. 
 
 He turned to his visitor, `` England will never bring in another World Cup till they replace Appleby at Keeper, Wilkins is a world class seeker, but if the games out of hand before the snitch presents itself theres nothing he can do.'' 
 
 `` They should get you out on the pitch,'' the visitor chuckled. 
 
 `` Ha! I was a fair seeker in my day, but I'm afraid I'd just embarrass myself if I tried to go out on a broom these days. You'd have better luck with my son, Albus. He actually had an offer to play for the Chudley Cannons before he joined the Ministry.'' 
 
 The visitor smiled, but Harry sensed something was amiss. He seemed a pleasant enough fellow, but Harry sensed something hanging over him, what it was Harry could n't say. 
 
 Harry groaned as he pushed himself up from the chair, `` I'm having another cuppa, can I freshen you up?'' he asked reaching for his visitors cup and saucer. 
 
 All of a sudden a burning pain coursed through his head. He crumpled to the ground in agony, an invisible brand seared on his forehead blurring out all his other senses. *The scar* he thought. `` Voldemort!'' He cried aloud. 
 
 The burning did n't diminish but he regained control of his senses, just barely. He could hear several muffled voices shouting intensely. He could n't open his eyes fully, but he was able to squint without it hurting too much. There were now three people in the room, his visitor, dressed in the traditional garb of the Aurors of the Ministry, and two dressed in white. The visitor had taken several steps back. His eyes were wide with urgency, but there was no fear in his eyes. Just tears welling up in the corners. Harry felt a deep urge to comfort him, but the pain brought him back to the matter at hand. 
 
 `` Where's Ginny!? Where's Ron!? Where's Hermione!? Voldemort has returned!'' One of the two wearing white swished their wand over his head. `` We need to go now! We need to... find the horcrux... es! We....we need....'' He suddenly felt too tired to go on, the burning in his head subsided replaced by exhaustion. An exhaustion too great to resist, no matter how hard he tried. He succumbed. 
 
 -- - 
 
 The head nurse swished her wand again, and Harry's body gently lifted off the ground and drifted over to the bed. She turned to the visitor, `` The episodes are happening every day now, Albus. I'm sorry.'' 
 
 The young man dried his eyes, and attempted to regain his composure. `` No. I... I needed to see it with my own eyes, not just hear about it in your owls.'' 
 
 The nurse started to speak, but stopped, opting to be as careful as possible with her next words, `` We can only comfort him so much with the spells. If you want... well, we have plenty of research from your father already. If you did n't want him to have to continue on like this, we would understand.'' 
 
 `` No,'' Albus said with finality. `` There's almost no information available on the long term effects of the exposure to dark magic. If there is any help to give, no matter how small, he would want to give it. No matter the cost.'' 
 
 He closed his eyes and a stream of tears rolled down his cheek. The nurse sighed, and rubbed his arm. `` I understand.'' 
 
 The two nurses left the room, but Albus stayed behind and watched his father sleep. The thought pained him, but it was true and he said it aloud, `` I'm glad Mum never had to see you this way.'' 
 
 He heard the door open and his wife walked into the room, and gently slid her arms around him. `` It's not fair,'' he told her. 
 
 `` I know.'' 
 
 `` He's already done so much, why does life just keep asking him to do more?'' 
 
 `` Because he's the only one who can.'' 
 
 He turned around and buried his face in his wife's shoulder and finally let the tears flow freely. She held him in silence until he was finished.
