His children had long since named it madness.

His grandchildren didn't try to understand.

Nieces, nephews, cousins, they stopped by ever so rarely.

In the end, Harry Potter continued to sit, and wait.

Ron and Hermione had passed a few years ago, and Ginny just a few months back. Neville had finally slipped away just two days prior, within minutes of his wife.

Almost every one of his friends had died. Luna was still alive, her blonde hair having long since lost its' luster, but her heart having not.

It was essentially just him, and he sat at the Three Broomsticks and waited. Day after day, he sat in a booth that had long since been reserved for him. People would ask what he wasdoing, and he would answer with the truth.

"I'm waiting to meet my friends, one last time." he would say.

And so he did.

The days never seemed to end, even as children grew, took over the businesses of their parents, and had kids of their own. His children faded as his grandchildren took their place, and their children came around too.

People had long since stopped asking questions and bothering the man with black and gray hair, vibrant green eyes, and a sad smile. He was Harry Potter, and he had people to wait for.

The culture changed, in time. Classic wooden benches and stone buildings eventually turned into modern structures of metal and glass, save the lone booth of Mr. Potter.

People would ask him questions, him being one of the lone people old enough to remember the 'dark ages' of magic, before technology helped them hide, when there was still such a thing as hidden spells.

He'd answer politely, with his ever present and growingly mysterious smile. Questions about his appearance or age were ignored.

One day, Mr. Potter didn't show up.

It was such an astonishment that many went to where they believed his house to be, to find no such place. They reported it to the papers, who ran articles. No one could find the man who had never missed a day.

Until the next, when a dark haired, bright eyed boy came and sat in Potter's booth, followed by a set of twins, a bushy haired girl, a dirty faced boy, a small redheaded girl, and a dotty looking blonde girl.

"Seven Butterbeers please. We'll need a few more when the rest show up." the boy ordered. His smile was infectious, and the others looked just as happy. "We'll just be catching up."