Afterwards, Voldemort was slowly pushed back, inch by inch, blow by blow, until he was on the ropes. They had him surrounded. An international force with some of the strongest Wizards in the world. Those present at that last battle truly believed the four years of war against the evil wizard were finally about to end.
And then the unthinkable happened. Voldemort unveiled that he had made a pact with a group of demons called the Burning Legion. And then he opened a Dark Portal and their invasion of Earth began. Voldemort died within seconds of the Portal opening, but no one had time to cheer. They were too busy trying to save their own lives.
Harry sighed, remembering the brutal dozen years that followed. Satyrs, imps, succubae, Doomguards, Felguards, Dread Lords, Shivarra, and Eradar. The endless number of foes he had slaughtered with his own hands had made Harry almost numb to death. However many he had slaughtered though found ten more behind to replace them. The number of humans upon Earth had fallen to under ten percent what it had been before the war.
'Before the war… that was now over.'
That concept was something Harry truly wished he could enjoy. But Harry would never be granted peace. He had been branded an international war criminal for the ruthless manner he had interrogated and ended the lives of his enemies. He had mind-raped so many Death Eaters prior to the war with the Burning Legion that it wasn't even something he could consider wrong anymore. He had seen their crimes. The rapes, the murders. He knew they would be back out on the street within weeks because of how the criminal justice system worked in England. He had committed unthinkable crimes for the good of everyone, because no one else had the stomach for it. The remaining magical humans alive on Earth owed their very lives to his methods, but they would never admit it.
Instead, a large group of 'light-side' fanatics currently stood outside the boundaries of his ancestral home. They had been banging on the wards in an attempt to bring them down for the past four days to arrest him. In truth, they didn't have a prayer of entering his wards. Nothing short of a muggle nuclear weapon could penetrate the ancient wards on the manor that Harry himself had reinforced. And even then, Harry could only count the Nuclear Weapon as a possibility because his attempts at an anti-radiation ward had never been tested.
No, any progress they had made towards bringing down the wards was deliberately allowed by Harry. He wanted this over.
He was tired of running. The Demon War had ended almost three years prior. He was tired of hiding on an estate that no one could enter but him. He was ready to start his life over. Voldemort was defeated. The Demon hordes of the Burning Legion had been driven back and eradicated. The portals had been shut down.
Now all that was left was for Harry himself to disappear. He needed to fake his death, or at least leave enough doubt that it wasn't worth the while of those in charge to continue to pursue him. If he could take out a number of his powerful enemies in the process, all the better.
And the people outside the ward line of his estate would certainly be counted amongst his enemies.
Most prominent of them all was Albus Dumbledore. The geriatric had lived through both the Demon and Second Voldemort war without lifting his wand once. That alone condemned him in Harry's mind. How many lives could have been saved if Albus Dumbledore had got off his sanctimonious arse and actually contributed. Harry hated hypothetical questions, but one like that always begged to be asked by his subconscious.
Harry's main plan to disappear was to allow Dumbledore and his minions access to his estate and then trap them here. He would then raise wards to prevent their escape and blow the place sky high, destroying them in one swoop and leaving their bodies in a completely unidentifiable state. The action would have the bonus of leaving it forever open as to whether he survived the incursion or not. The house was empty except for the main entrance hall to give the impression Harry still intended to live here. All side-halls from the entrance hall were sealed anyways to prevent people from snooping in the minute or two they had the chance.
If one were to wander the rest of the house behind those locked doors, they would be shocked to see the rest of the house was loaded to bear with runic bombs. Over five hundred bombs were all daisy-chained together into a massive array which would likely create a crater half a mile wide once set off. Harry would escape via shadow walking to a safe house in the American southwest. He planned to live there for at least half a decade in seclusion, then set out to another location which he would buy under an assumed identity already established by Gringotts.
There wasn't a ward in existence that could prevent his shadow-walking. Plus, it's not like Dumbledore would even know to prevent it anyways. No one alive knew he could shadow walk. Harry had killed everyone who had ever witnessed its use.
Harry absent-mindedly looked down at his glass, and realized he had sipped the final bit of alcohol he had nursed for the last thirty minutes.
'Guess this is it,' he thought sadly, as he looked around at the bedroom that had once belonged to his parents. He briefly thought of the few moments of happiness he had in this room. Laughing with Tonks. Chasing Susan around from room to room when she cursed his shower to run cold.
Memories of the two women he loved more than life itself… who had been killed by traitors outside his house right now.
He had found out his mother and father had lived here for the first ten months of their marriage, and had only abandoned it for a secluded cottage that Albus Dumbledore owned after Harry's birth. Dumbledore had told his parents of Harry's potential to kill Voldemort the day after he was born, and they immediately went into hiding, never knowing Dumbledore himself had Snape leak their identity to the Dark Lord.