Please Date Me? -Twilight and Harry Potter Fanfiction-

Oneshot

It's a little rough around the edges, but I hope you enjoy! 
One more warning for whoever has gotten this far: Read with caution, this has SMUT

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Harry stood, his chest heaving. Two wands were clutched in his hands, the body of Voldemort lie in front of him, though Harry couldn't see it past the bodies of students and adults alike swarming around him. Harry heard cheering, crying, celebrating, though the noise seemed dim and far away. His vision blackened on the edges, and Harry felt relief flooding him even as he collapsed from magical and physical exhaustion.

Harry woke up in the Hospital wing, surrounded by others injured in the war. His cot was the same, and he was ignored by Pomfrey who was casting diagnostic spells on someone Harry couldn't name. The familiarity unsettled him, like something was crawling under his skin. It was seeking, searching for something Harry couldn't grasp. He was able to slip out of the hospital wing undisturbed; most of the patients were asleep or more consumed with their injuries.

He found his wand in his pocket still, and a quick tempest told him he'd been asleep for roughly a day. He walked the familiar path of Hogwarts' halls, heading for where apparation was no longer blocked; whether or not the wards were even up were a mystery to him, but the walk felt needed. He ran into a few people, other students with their families who thanked him or smiled at him. Harry smiled back, unsettled by the attention as he always had been.

He apparated to Grimmauld Place, knowing it was the only home he had at the moment. Harry intended to change that, and he wanted to go far, away from the Wizarding world and its painful memories. At least for a little while.

Harry had a depressing amount of belongings that denoted the entirety of his life. Even after the belongings and well-wishes he had been given before he left, Harry only had a large suitcase to take out of baggage claim once he arrived in Port Angeles. The weight of it was comforting, in a way. Harry didn't want to risk casting a feather-light charm in public, and carrying his luggage like everyone else felt... freeing. He was no one, here.

Harry hailed a cab, and asked it to take him to the nearest car dealership. That turned out to be a very small lot with a selection of some nice cars and mostly used ones, and had a small area for motorbikes as well. Harry had a modest and used pick-up not too much later. The grocery was his next stop.

By the end of the day, Harry's small house was stocked with basics, and he was absolutely exhausted. He collapsed on the badly-transfigured bed and slept through the night.

Some searching found a listing of job opportunities within thirty or so miles. It was a small list; a mechanic, a swimming instructor, a waiter, a grocery clerk, a gas station general manager, and not much else for another twenty miles. Apparently, a town with a small population didn't have many jobs. He applies to all of them except the swimming instructor, memories of the Triwizard Tournament making him uneasy.

The first one to email him back was the listing for a waiter in a small diner in La Push.

He got used to the job quickly. It was refreshing, being unknown to everyone. He was busy, and the long hours left him tired and sleeping easily at night. Sometimes he shuffled ten or so tables, sometimes he ran the register, sometimes ran food and drinks and random condiments, sometimes he'd have a rag on him and spend the slow hours cleaning whatever he was near; the bar had never been so shiny.

It had only been a few weeks, maybe over a month and Harry felt like he'd gotten the hang of everything, and his manager seemed to like him, though she always had something to say about talking to the customers more. Was it his fault he wasn't chatty? No. Was it his fault the elderly couple who came in every Saturday loved to talk about their grandkids who lived in North Carolina? Also no.