After -Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 1

—Harry POV—

People left and right moving, talking. The world spins at so fast we don't even feel it. My eyes darted around, hands clenching open and closed, open and closed. There was a tightness that'd begun in my chest, crawling up my throat. I kept looking around, the breath within me becoming constrained. An attack could happen at any moment. I have to be ready. This was the first time I'd been out of the house in a month.

 I thought I could handle it.

Pull yourself together, I chastised. It's only the supermarket. I glanced over to Ginny, my wife, who was holding my godson Teddy's hand.

"Harry," she whispered. "Relax. Soon enough we will have paid for the groceries and you'll be back in the car on your way home."

My chest clenched, and the only response I gave was a harsh exhale, knowing that my words would have only failed me. My head was throbbing slightly and every beat of my heart brought an awful pang vibrating across my body, leaving me with a horrible, almost sick feeling. Keep it together.

"Harry... it's been ten years."

She's right. My circumstance was so severe I'd had to leave England altogether. Ginny had supported it, of course. She couldn't handle me not being able to go about my business normally; I'd make too much of a fuss about it. I was always ready to be attacked, and the fear kept me in the house more often than not. And the reporters, those blasted reporters; whenever they would come to ask about the happenings of 'the boy who lived', question after question barreling towards me, about everything- the war, Hogwarts, my friends- I'd end up panicking.

 Now, we live in Muggle America, far from the wizarding world we grew up in, and far from the people we once knew.

"Harry... Harry please, watch your breathing," she whispered.

"Maybe I should head to the bathroom," I choked out in an urgent murmur. I shut my eyes and opened them again, trying to regain focus in my surroundings. 

"It's towards the back," she answered, but I just barely caught it as I sped towards the rear end of the market so I could lock myself in what would hopefully be a single-stall restroom.

with each quickening step, my breathing became less of a point of focus. Soon enough I was in the back hallway by an occupied family restroom. Calm down, I told myself as I backed against the wall, trying to seem as though nothing was wrong. I'm just a man waiting for the restroom. Nothing to see here. I glanced around quickly, making sure nobody was around.

Soon enough I lost focus of my surroundings. I faintly heard the toilet flush before I decided that it'd be better for me to get through this in the men's room just further down the hall, instead of here waiting for whoever was in the single-stall restroom to finish.

I entered the bathroom and quickly jammed myself into the largest stall, locking the door before crouching down and letting out a strangled gasp. Breathe, goddamn it. Control yourself, you're in public. What if someone comes in? Then what do you do? You can't defend yourself in this state. With my hands at either side of my head, I closed my eyes, forcing a large breath in. The hairs on the back of my neck stood, and an itch crept slowly beneath my skin irritatingly. Why am I so tense? With a start, I forced my muscles to relax, though they seemed to want to tense back up on their own accord.  

I was briefly jolted from my mind as I felt the phone in my pocket vibrate. It was safe to assume that was Ginny checking up on me. I ignored it. I need to get a grip on myself.

After several moments of forced and concentrated breathing, I felt myself controlled enough to at least stand up and lean against the stall door as I wiped a stray tear, catching my breath, counting slowly in my mind. one, two, three, four... I focused on the feeling of each word on the tip of my tongue, the way my mouth moved to shape the words as they ghosted past my lips with my shaky breaths.

The creak of the bathroom door jolted me back into a state of alarm. I remembered where I was. Shit. 

"Alright now; let me help you use the toilet, Scorpius."

I froze. That voice; I could recognize it anywhere. The voice of my enemy since my first year at Hogwarts. I shut my eyes tight and shook my head timidly. I have to be imagining this. He's in England happily married.

"But Dada I'm a big kid now!" Said the child innocently.

"Scorpius, you're 7 years old. Now, I'm going to clean the seat for you."

Following this, I saw a yellow glow erupt from the stall next to mine. Instinctively, my hand gripped the wand that sat in my pocket. It is definitely him. Malfoy.

My heart rate quickened again, pulsing through my body, pounding relentlessly at my skull. I trembled. When he sees me he'll attack me- no doubt- Especially with our history. What is Malfoy even doing all the way in America, and what's even more curious, in the Muggle world?

I heard the bathroom's main door open again at the same time that, what I assume to be Malfoy's son, flushed the toilet, and I watched as the pair of feet exited the stall.

"Uncle Harry," I practically jumped out of my stall towards Teddy protectively, one hand reaching in front of him and the other still ready to take out my concealed wand.

"Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny is worried for you," he began to try explaining. "She's just outside and she sent me to make sure you're alright-" he continued quickly while behind me, where ushered him.

"Not now Teddy," I interrupted, keeping a piercing glare on an absolutely bewildered Malfoy and a confused Malfoy Jr, who were stood just a few feet away. "Thank you, though."

"Potter?"

"Malfoy."