Harry stood in the hallway of Grimmauld Place, a suitcase holding everything he owned in one hand, his wand in the other. He had purposefully tossed a decoy detonator ahead of himself as he descended the stairs, reaching the ground floor as the portrait of old Walburga Black awoke and began to scream and curse as he stood there, soaking in everything for what would most likely be the last time.

"Mudbloods! Filth! Scum!" the old woman shrieked over and over again. He remembered how Sirius would come running down the stairs, his voice booming over the woman's for her to shut her mouth, tossing in any other curses that came to his mind as he covered her with a thick, black cloth. Even though it had been quite a few years since Sirius had died, the memory still brought a tear to his eye.

"I'm really going to miss this place…" Harry whispered, smiling faintly as he wiped the tear away with the back of his wand hand. He then turned and, making his way down the short hallway to the door, he paused at the small table by the door, looking at the wand in his hand. Magic had been such a big part of his life ever since the day that lovable half-giant had come for him, delivering his first birthday cake and the news that he was a wizard. Could he really give it all up?

Yes. Yes, I can, he thought resolutely to himself, steeling himself as he set the wand down on the small table by the door and quickly hurried out the door. Thankfully the cab Harry had called for was already waiting outside and he was able to slide right in and direct the driver to take him to the airport before he changed his mind.

He was settling himself in the back of the cab when the cell phone in his jacket pocket began to ring and vibrate. Fishing the little black flip phone from the pocket, he looked at the display and smiled fondly when he saw his oldest friend Ronald's name flashing there. Flipping the phone open, he placed it to his ear with a soft, "Hello?"

"HARRY?" Ron's voice yelled from the earpiece so loud that Harry was forced to quickly hold the phone a few feet from his ear or risk eardrum damage, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

Tentatively replacing the phone to his ear, Harry laughed softly, "Ron, you don't have to yell; I can hear you perfectly fine."

In the background, he could hear Hermione saying, "Ron, don't shout or you'll wake the baby!" And then, further back in the background, he could hear a baby wailing and Hermione stomping off, grumbling as she went to see soothe the baby.

"Ron?" Harry asked, the smile still on his lips. When he looked out the window of the taxi, he saw a sign ahead declaring the airport was only a few kilometers away.

"Harry? Can you really hear me through this thing?" Ron asked in a softer voice, sounding like a normal human now.

"Yes, I can," Harry chuckled, "so, what can I do you for, Ron?" He crossed his right leg over his left knee and leaned back against the seat, waiting.

"I just wanted to call you and wish you good luck with everything," Ron said through the phone, sounding more like his old friend.

"Oh, well… thank you," Harry blinked, wondering what had brought this on all of a sudden. Ron and Hermione had thrown him a farewell party a few days earlier and Ron had wished him luck and had even forced Harry to take an envelope of money. When Harry had finally agreed to take the money, he found only wizard money inside, which couldn't be used in the muggle world. So he used the money Ronald had given him to buy baby supplies for Ron and Hermione's baby girl, Rose, and presented them as presents to the new family.

"You're welcome, Harry," Ron said, an uncomfortable silence fell between the two, "well… I guess I'll let you go now, Harry. Good luck in America, mate."

"Stay well, Ron," Harry nodded slightly and smiled as he closed the phone. Slipping it back into his pocket, he looked up to find that the taxi was just pulling up the British International Airport. Getting out of the car, Harry paused long enough to hand over the fare to the cab driver and thank him before picking up his suitcase and headed into the terminal, ready to start his journey to America.

"Sir?" came a soft voice near Harry's ear. Harry's eyes fluttered open and he looked around sleepily. A woman in a tight blue stewardess uniform was stooped over him, looking at him with bright blue eyes filled with concern. He blinked, confused for a moment about where he was. And then he remembered that he was on a British International Airplane to start his new life.

Harry sat up a little straighter in his seat and looked at the woman with a sleepy smile on his lips, "Yes?"

"You were talking in your sleep, sir," the woman informed him.

Harry winced, knowing all too well about his problem of talking in his sleep, "I'm sorry about that, M'am; I have very vivid dreams."

The woman nodded slightly, "I understand; is there anything I can get you that might help?"

"A cup of tea would be lovely."

The stewardess nodded and, smiling warmly, stood up and walked away to go fetch the tea. Harry's smile slowly faded away and his hand automatically went up to his forehead to trace the strange lightning bolt scar. His dreams had been about the evil Lord Voldemort and that final wizarding duel they had had. He haunts me even in death, Harry thought in despair. He looked out the airplane window to see the night sky and the ocean passing below.

The young stewardess returned quickly, carrying a small tray with a steaming teacup on a saucer and a dish bowl with sugar, creamer, and honey packets in it, "Here you are, sir."

"Oh," Harry delicately took the tea and bowl, his smile quickly returning to hide his distress, "thank you so much."

"Oh, no, sir, it's my job," the woman smiled, her voice soft and warm, "my name is Katherine; please call me if you need me." Harry nodded and rested his back against the seat as the woman walked away. He held the hot cup of tea beneath his nose, the sweet scent of lemon tea soothed his frayed nerves and warmed the fear from his heart.

"Rough night?" came a voice from across the aisle. Harry looked up and found a man about the same age as Harry looking over at him. An unfamiliar feeling shot through Harry as he looked at the man, a feeling he had once felt when he dated Ginny Weasly for that short time back in Hogwarts. The man had thick bronze-colored hair that looked like a soft cloud above his noble brow and dark eyebrows. His eyes were a deep, gold caramel color, and they would have looked like the eyes of a predator had there not been light purple bags below them as if he hadn't slept in a long time. Harry could tell that he was used to having money; his clothes were made of blue silk, his shirt finely tailored, hinting at a beautifully sculpted body that Harry suddenly found himself wishing he could explore with his hands.

"Yes… very rough," Harry said numbly, lifting the tea to his lips and taking a slow sip. I thought I was past this, Harry thought in confusion, I thought I didn't like guys anymore! He had experimented a little with Draco Malfoy for a little while to see if he liked men while he was still in Hogwarts. He had enjoyed Draco's company and the feeling of their lovemaking, but he hadn't felt that certain 'spark' with him.

The man nodded, his beautiful golden eyes slowly blinking as he watched Harry, "I understand; I've been having a rough week myself."

Curious, Harry turned slightly in his chair to face the man more, "Care to talk about it? I read somewhere that if you talk to people about your troubles, it helps you to feel better." Like I'm one to talk, Harry grumbled to himself.

"I don't want to trouble you… besides, it's a bit of a personal matter," the man said a little skeptically, "I have been having a little bit of… love trouble."

Harry nodded knowingly; he then took a long drink of deliciously hot tea that warmed his insides and made him feel even better. "I understand that, too," He turned the cup slowly in his hands as he continued to nod, "I haven't been able to find anyone I can truly relate to and be happy with."

"I had a loved one once that I thought about at every waking moment…" the man whispered, his eyes seeming to go far away, "I gave her my heart and she tore it to shreds."

Harry felt a gripping sadness squeeze his heart at the pain in the man's words, "I'm sorry… If it is any consolation, I think she was stupid to do that to a man like you." Harry winced as he realized what he had said and he looked up at the man out of the corner of his eye.

He was smiling softly though, "Thank you… My name is Edward Cullen, by the way." He extended his hand out to Harry, a hand that was covered with a black glove.

Harry smiled softly and took the hand, shaking it warmly, "Harry, Harry Potter."

"Well, Harry, I suppose I'll leave you to your tea now before it gets cold," Edward smiled and turned back to the laptop Harry hadn't seen sitting in his lap. Harry nodded slightly and turned back to face forward in his seat, absently taking a sip of his drink.

Edward Cullen… a beautiful name, Harry thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Edward's lips turn up slightly with a small smile.