A Meeting By Chance

1. Functions

Harry hated attending functions.  They took the fun out of life.  He would rather stay at home and order pizza.  But no, he was told that he had to attend them because it was not only his duty, but many people wanted to thank him for his unselfish act of bravery in the war.  Like they hadn't done that already!

How many functions was it going to take?  How many thank-you's could he handle getting in one night.  And apparently his opinion in this regard didn't matter.  It wasn't only him that would be getting a golden handshake and praise, it was also given to others who had portrayed their true selves during the war - like his friends.

Students and adults alike, everyone was called in once a month to attend a function so that the world would know about them.  Usually Harry would stay for the speeches out of respect, and then get the hell out of there.  He was always sidetracked on his way out, by people asking him  weird questions.

Did you really die?  And what was the afterlife like?  Did you really see Dumbledore?  Why didn't you defend yourself from the killing curse?  And his absolute favorite - did it hurt?

It went on and on, and he was tired.  There were more functions this year, and he knew he couldn't stay away from them.  He never took a date with him, because really, who wanted to go out with a pathetic mess such as himself, and also he didn't want anyone to be as bored as he was.  

He never took anyone home or went to anyone else's house.  He got dressed, went for the speeches, had a few drinks, answered some questions, and disappeared.

They knew his routine better than he did, the Ministry.  Harry also knew that they felt extreme gratitude at what he had been able to do, and while he was modest about it, he wasn't very comfortable with praise.  Never having received it in earlier years, he didn't understand their fascination with what he had done.  Surely they would have done the same if it had been asked of them?

He had picked out a black tuxedo for the evening with a crisp white dress shirt and black bow tie.  Shiny black leather shoes and a belt to match, he looked handsome.  His hair still had a mind of it's own, and the truth was that he had given up on that part of him ages ago.  Ginny had suggested he use a bit of gel on his fringe, to give him a sexy look, and he thought he would die of embarrassment.  

He wasn't sexy, he was Harry.  Just Harry.  

She had laughed at him and told him to watch how people would surround him just for noticing that simple change.  It had worked, and he had left the last function with no less than four phone numbers in his pocket, from women and men alike.  But Harry wasn't your run of the mill one night stand kind of guy.  He wanted a good old fashioned fuck to mean something.

So the numbers had gone to the trash, and Harry gave up on using the hair gel.  Except tonight he made an exception.  So he did what he had seen Ginny do, and ran a bit through his fringe, and he had to admit that it did change his face.  Grabbing his wand, he headed towards where the function was going to be held tonight, locking his door on his way out.

He walked slowly towards an apparition point, and brought to memory the different faces that he would see tonight.

There was Neville, the brave snake slayer.  Luna with her ridiculous charm and bright blue eyes.  There was Seamus Finnigan, who had given him a hug that day he had broken into Hogwarts.  His partner Dean Thomas who was always by his side.  There was obviously Ron and Hermoine, who in his eyes, were the real heroes for staying by his side for so long.  

There was Professor Mcgonagall who had taken four stunning spells to the chest and still stood firm.  Horace Slughorn who never should have been in Slytherin in the first place.  There was the Weasley family for their part in the protection of Harry during the war.  

There was Severus Snape, who had given Harry the last bit of ammunition in order for him to defeat Voldemort.  There was Narcissa Malfoy, who with her lying to Voldemort, had ultimately won them the war.  There was Pansy Parkinson who - although she had offered to hand Harry over to the dark lord - had been under the spell of the Imperius curse.  

And then there was Draco Malfoy, who had thrown his wand to Harry, in an act of repentance.

And Harry loved them all equally.  Without any of them, he wouldn't be where he was today, and that was free and able to live his life exactly how he chose to do so, and not how he was told to.  Yes, there were things about him that nobody knew, and he was going to keep it that way.  No need to let them in on his horrors and trauma, when they themselves had so much of their own.

Reaching the apparition point, he left with a crack and landed on the green lawns of some type of mansion.  If he remembered correctly, tonight's function was being held at the home of the Minister for Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

In Harry's opinion, the only Minister who actually knew what he was doing, and who listened to the people.  Not some pompous arse who was in it for the fame and the power.  Or some hideous 'lion-looking' man with long hair, who was out to scrutinize young wizards and witches, and then judge them based on his very poor amount of knowledge.

He walked up the steps to the front doors, and knocked.  He was quite sure that he was the only one who did this.  Harry was a private person, and respected that of others.  Just to say there was an invite, didn't necessarily mean that you could waltz in when you liked.  At least to Harry, that's what it meant.

The door opened, and he could see the different colors of the evening gowns worn by the women.  Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.