It Ended With Our Song

You Can't Escape the Unescapable

The air outside was warm, almost too warm.

Harry trenched up the gravel paths, sweat beading on his forehead.

The town was a lot more lively than it had been when he'd last visited.

Kids rang along the muddy roads, dodging legs and kicking around makeshift footballs.

Most of the markets were still open and almost subconsciously Harry found himself walking closer to them, the smell of fresh food overtaking his senses.

He followed the scent, eventually settling on small stall near the back.

A man approached him speaking in a language he didn't understand.

He just shrugged and pulled out a handful of muggle money, offering it out to the man.

The others eyes went wide and he stepped back, eyeing the money in shock and shaking his head.

Harry had spent so long away from muggle money that he truly couldn't remember how it worked, but he knew he had enough of it to last him a lifetime and the amount he was offering hadn't made as much as a dent in his pocket.

So he extended his hand further, pressing the cold cash into the mans hand.

The man stepped back, looking up at Harry wide eyes and pocketing the money. He opened his mouth and then closed it again before letting out a 'thank you' in broken english.

"Could I get some food please," Harry asked and the man nodded, seeming to understand the others request.

He came back with a paper plate piled high with what looked like kebabs.

Harry took it gratefully, offering the man a smile and a wave before turning to leave.

He ate as he walked. Feet carrying him down the streets, eyes wandering from shop to stall.

Eventually he found himself wandering off down a quiet side road.

He sat himself down against the cold cobbled wall, chewing thoughtfully on the stick of his kebab.

"You alright there mate," A british voice echoed down the alley.

He glanced up, an eyebrow already raised.

A man stood, dressed in all black, by a large metal door. His hair was a light brown and pulled back in a man bun, his tanned face illuminated by the flickering street lamp above him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," Harry responded easily, pushing himself to his feet.

The man nodded curtly, "Assuming you're not from 'ere, you just passing through?"

Harry smiled, "I guess you could say that. You don't look like you're from here either though."

The man let out a laugh, it was warm and light, disappearing into the night air.

"No, no, I'm from east London, just wanted a bit of a change you know."

"Yeah, yeah I do know."

The mans lips quirked at the answer, "You look like you need a drink, there's a bar inside," he gestured to the metal door behind him.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, considering the mans offer. A drink couldn't hurt.

And so he nodded and let the man swing the door open for him.

The bar seemed mainly European. It was small, the floor littered with wooden tables and stools

"What can I get you mate."

He turned to find a man speaking to him from behind the bar.

"Gin and tonic couldn't hurt, could it."

The bartender smiled at his response, "Coming right up."

While he waited, Harry took a second to glance around again.

Everyone here looked dog tired, many carrying backpacks, making light conversation.

The was light music pumping from speaking on the ceiling but it wasn't enough to drown out the conversation that carried around the room.

He watched as a pair near him made small talk, catching onto only a word or two.

"We run a motel upstairs by the way."

Harry jumped turning back to the bartender who had returned and was holding out his drink.

"Sorry didn't mean to scare you."

"You're fine, sorry, I'm a bit jumpy today."

The man chuckled, "I was just saying, we don't charge much, this place is built for travellers and such."

"Ah right, I thought it was something like that," Harry responded, suddenly understanding the tired looking customers.

"You wanna book a room, we have some spare," The bartender offered.

"No, no I'm alright, probably just have a few drinks and be on my way."

"Well my offer stands regardless."

Harry shot him a quick smile before grabbing his drink and moving further into the crowd.

He was probably halfway through his third gin and tonic when it happened.

"Harry."

He thought he must be hearing things but then his name was called again.

"Harry?"

He turned slowly, focusing in on a short stubby woman he didn't recognise.

Her eyes flickered from his glasses, to his scar and then back again.

"Mr Harry Potter, what a pleasure to meet you."

He frowned, "Sorry but who are you."

"My names Martha, she held out a hand and Harry shook it cautiously, "I work with Arthur at the ministry."

Harry's gut dropped and he felt the blood rush from his face.

She noticed the change in his expression and frowned, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your night, it's just you've done so much for the Wizarding world and I've been waiting to find a time to thank you personally."

Harry forced down the feelings of unease in stomach. He'd been avoiding the wizarding world for years and here it was again, punching him right in the face.

He smiled falsely, "Thank you."

She smiled back, her eyes crinkling at the corners, "No thank you, I'm glad that you are taking a break from it all but I definitely didn't expect to see you out here. The prophets been searching for you for years."

Harry's breath caught again, "Right yeah, I'd appreciate if my location stayed between you and me."

She nodded quickly, "Of course, of course. I don't want to bring you any trouble."

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it," He nodded curtly, "I have to get going now, safe travels."

And he turned before she could say anymore, handing over a thick wad of cash to the bartender on his way out.