Hopefully this will attract some of the Readers of my last short story "My Sweetest Valentine"
Some people asked if I would do another short story, and here it is. Its not what I had planned originally, but you never know when inspiration will hit. Again I expect this to be about 10 000 words long at most. Enjoy.
Harry sat in his apartment in Sydney. It was a sky rise one with the large windows going from floor to ceiling. The view was unrivalled, though he never had anyone to show it to. It was a clean minimalist apartment that would generally belong to a millionaire who only uses it for a few days a year, not to a twenty two year old Harry Potter.
He occasionally saw Ron or another friend from school, but other than that he had no association with magic. It had caused him so much pain, he simply tried to forget it existed. After all it was magic that had killed his parents and magic that had kept him from having a good first ten years of his life. It was magic which had killed so many people around him, and ultimately it was magic which had ended his relationship with Hermione four years ago.
Hermione…his heart still ached when he thought of her, when he thought of what they had, and how they didn't have it any more. He moved here, as far away as possible in the hope that the distance would lessen the pain, it hadn't. Neither had time really, though it didn't feel so bad anymore. This was mostly because he was used to it by now.
He worked from his apartment. He made web pages, which was easy money. He did often think of getting a more challenging job but he wanted to maintain a low profile, for there were still enemies around. He smiled to himself as he thought of a quote from a film he had seen shortly before he left.
"The greatest trick Satan ever pulled was to convince mankind that he didn't even exist" Harry hoped that in some way he could do this.
He wasn't hiding, but by living a low life, and never appearing in the wizarding world he could guarantee that he wouldn't need to look over his shoulder every minute of every day. Also it meant that the ones he cared for wouldn't be put at risk from Voldemort's remaining followers.
He read in the prophet shortly after he moved here, that the Great Harry Potter had gone mad after defeating the dark lord, and had fled to the mountains to live in solitude. It was a load of rubbish, or at least the part about mountains was. The thing was Harry could look at himself and he could see that perhaps he hadn't been entirely rational. He could see something for what it was, and yet his heart couldn't.
That was the reason why he had left. He and Hermione had started going out just after they finished Hogwarts. Harry didn't want to risk loosing touch with her after school, and so he told her how he felt. It was something he was glad he did, for on that day he learnt that she reciprocated his feelings.
They had had a wonderful relationship whilst it lasted, but then something went wrong. After they had defeated Voldemort Hermione had gone off and gotten a job at the ministry working as an Auror. This would have been okay with Harry except that it seemed to take up so much of her time. He was on a Quidditch team at the time and between their jobs they hardly ever seemed to see each other.
Not to mention the Death Eaters. He was always worrying about them, as being in a dangerous job like that she came into contact with them, and made herself a target. Whenever Harry tried to take a precaution she always treated as if he was paranoid.
Did she not care about her safety? Personally he would have been flattered to have someone who cared that much. He felt himself start to anger at the thoughts of it all. He took a few deep breaths as he got up from his chair and paced over to the window. He stared out at the river running by, and the cars driving past.
"Let it go Harry." He said to himself as he had so many times before. "It's in the past."
He thought back to how it had ended, on such a bitter note. Harry had gotten back from Quidditch practice and was cooking dinner at their apartment in Hogsmeade. Hermione was due home in half an hour, and everything was going well. Then however, the phone rang. Harry put down the over glove and walked over to the phone.
"Hey hunny." Hermione said in her sweet voice, which immediately disappointed Harry. These phone calls were so frequent these days. He barely even needed to answer.
"Hey…" Harry responded as he tried to keep his voice cheerful.
"I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to make it home on time. Something has come up and with Darren still sick off work they want me to do another night raid… You didn't have anything special planned did you?"
"No, nothing special." Harry responded as tears formed in the corner of his eyes. He knew Hermione wasn't cheating on him but it still felt in his heart like she was, even if it was only with a job.
"I shouldn't expect you back until early hours then?" He asked as he prepared for another night alone. He had practice early in the morning so he usually went to bed by about ten. "Well I might be able to get back by midnight. I won't wake you up though because I know you need your sleep." She said cheerfully.
"Ok…" He said as he took a deep breath. "Just promise me you will be home on time tomorrow." He said.
"You know I can't promise that. Things come up and its important that I'm here to do them."
"I don't care. Its always work with you. I'm never in your life." He snapped at her. "Have you never considered you have duties to me?"
"I saw you just yesterday." Hermione countered hotly.
"And work saw you today. Promise me." He said before hanging up without as much as a goodbye.
Harry sat that night with a candle lit table in front of him for an hour in silence. He knew it was pointless really but there was always a remote possibility Hermione would get out early and he could surprise her then. "Still…" He thought to himself as the hour ticked up and the candle burned low. "If she couldn't enjoy his meal why should he?" He picked at a few bits of it before throwing it in the bin and heading off to bed. It wasn't even nine o clock, but he needed to sleep so he could try and forget about the feeling of rejection that was constantly being thrust upon him.
She hadn't made it home on time that night and she hadn't even called. He didn't enquire for a reason. Instead he laid down his hand and walked away. If he was going to keep loosing then he wasn't going to keep playing. He packed his bags and walked out of her life. At least now he didn't have to worry about being disappointed.
He paced backwards and forwards for several moments contemplating what he had just found out. He tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it didn't matter to him any more, that it wasn't his problem. He cursed in anger as he punched the wall, leaving his knuckles grazed. It was his problem. It always was. Hermione Granger was getting married.