The Aftermath

Chapter 4

Harry woke up with a girl on one side and a guy on the other side wondering what the hell he did the night before. Thankfully this wasn't his apartment so he made a quick exit. He took the tube closer to his own area and then walked around for a bit to be alone with his thoughts. Drowning his problems in tequila and sex was not the best way to cope. He could hear Hermione scolding him which was why he refused to tell her how he was spending his days. He didn't even tell Ron. Anything to get thoughts of the war out of his mind and numb the nightmares.

The best thing about roaming the streets is that magicians tended to live in wizard neighbourhoods and he made sure there was as little magic as humanly possible in his area. He didn't want to bump into anyone who would recognise him; ask him how he was doing or look at him with pity and over-concern. He wanted to forget it all and no one was allowing him that. He had to practically ban all war conversation between his friends. Neither of which thought it was healthy because they knew he had no one to talk to other than them. But Harry was Harry and since the two had their own issues to resolve they mutually decided not to force him to open up and hoped he'd come around. Almost a month now and Harry was still acting like the last year did not happen.

There were so many questions. Why did Malfoy say it wasn't him? Why did Narcissa say he was dead when she knew he wasn't. How the hell did he survive? Why was Snape so mean to him if he was protecting him?

Snape seemed beyond petty jealousy. Like if he had to choose between loving his love's son or hating his enemies son he'd choose the former. It was what got him to confess to Dumbledore and got Dumbledore to swing him to the side of good. Why the hell didn't it also work in reference to Harry? Why did Sirius have to die? Why did Dumbledore not even mention he had a brother or a sister?

As Harry continued to think his mind absentmindedly took him to his apartment. He walked up the stairs instead of taking the lift. His apartment was in a very posh complex and as modern as modern could get. All open space and clean lines. The complete opposite of cupboard under the stairs living. It didn't remind him of anything Wizard and that was just how he liked it for now. After a quick shower, he checked the time. He still had enough time to get to work. He was a coffee barista. He found the constant flow of work helped clear his mind. And caffeine was life.

The one regret he had was the spell he used to destroy Voldemort. Here he was in the middle of a war and he was still casting disarming spells. Disarming spells. Of all the dangerous spells he knew. And most importantly knowing he had to kill Voldemort.  Add that to all the times not going for the kill got his arse caught out, this was the time to do it. The one and only time he absolutely had to use a killing curse and he cast a disarming hex. In what universe was he expecting to destroy Voldemort that way.

What if it had done just that? Disarmed him. Was he going to arrest him somehow? Keep him alive to be rescued from Azkaban by his devotees? The more he thought about it the more he thought he just didn't take the whole destruction of Voldemort seriously if when he needed to destroy him he cast the spell least likely to do so. The fact that it did, in his mind, was a lucky break.

He put on jeans and a polo shirt and headed outside to work. It was only a few blocks walk. While he was walking his phone rang. He answered reluctantly.

"Harry. How many owls and texts does a girl have to send to receive a response?"

"I was busy Hermione."

"Which in your case means shagging." He hated how well she knew him sometimes. At least she didn't know he was a borderline drunk.

"Orgasms help me cope." He was glad she laughed at that comment. "Oh, so you're having your share as well. Do tell."

"No one, or ones in particular. You only live once after all."

"Fair enough."

"You are okay though Harry? Not doing anything stupid? Have you used magic yet?"

"I floated a pillow to me on the sofa yesterday."

"Well, that's progress. Ron's going nuts. I'm trying to teach him how to use a cell phone but he finds the muggle contraption complicated. But you aren't using magic so he needs to sort this out."

"Is he still mad about the fact that I have an electric fireplace."  Harry was glad to hear Hermione laugh at that statement.

"A house without a floo is a foreign concept to him. I'm going to invite him over so he can understand what central heating is. We don't need floos." Both Harry and Hermione laughed. Explaining muggle life to Ron was always an experience. And definitely worth every laugh.

"And yes. I am doing better. At least I will be. It's time to stop running away especially if I'm going to finish off at Hogwarts."

"So you have finally decided to come back. I'm so happy for you Harry!"

"Before you get too excited and start drilling me, no I don't know what I want to be. But an Aura is out of the question. No more evil magic hunting for me. Something else at the ministry. I'm famous enough. I can get a job that's more along the lines of helping people. Even if it's a cushy desk job. I thought about becoming a professional Quidditch player. Or a teacher. But that would require more education."

"You'd be great at all of those. Especially teaching. I mean the DA was a massive success after all."

"Yeah. I feel like this last year will be my biggest challenge. Before I was the boy who lived. Now I'm the boy who defeated Voldemort. I'm tired of being front page news. Hiding out in a muggle coffee bar. I like it but... you were right. I can't live half a life. I'm a half-blood. And I'm ignoring one half of me."

"Do you have nightmares still?"

"Not when I'm hungover."

"So you're drinking your problems away. Harry." He could hear the tone of disapproval and was instantly mad at himself for the slip-up.

"Look I'm at work now. I'll talk to you later."

"I'm coming by. It's about time you released your feelings. Enough is enough Harry." Harry had a protest planned but it got stuck in his throat. He was ready finally. There were a lot of things from his nightmares to drunken encounters that ended in blackouts to his bisexuality that he had to talk about. And he didn't want to chance telling Ron first. He needed more helpful and less juvenile reactions. Hermione was the friend for that.