*Buzz buzz buzz*

Harry reached over with his eyes still closed and slammed his hand down on the snooze button. He felt Ginny stir next to him, but she didn't wake. Harry opened his eyes. Everything was blurry. In the old days, he would have reached over and grabbed his glasses, but now he no longer needed them. He wore contacts. He wished he could go back to sleep, but he had to be at work by 8. He swung his feet out of the bed and walked stiffly to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was short and not at all scruffy. It had tamed itself over the years. He was starting to get some wrinkles, but not bad. Mostly just stress lines. He wasn't old enough for actual wrinkles yet. He still had the scar. He remembered they had tried to remove it with magic, but even with Voldemort gone, the cursed scar still remained steadfastly on his forehead. If anyone asked, he told them he got it in the car crash that killed his parents when he was a baby. He didn't remember anything about it.

Harry pulled a brush through his hair to make sure it was all going the same direction before brushing his teeth. He pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his pants. He glanced at himself in the mirror, smiling slightly. He'd just begun working out and was liking the results. He reached to the hook behind him where he had hung his clothes for the day and got dressed.

It's in the kitchen that Harry notices the change the most. He scrambles his own eggs. He brews his own coffee. He toasts his own bread. He's luckier than most wizards though. He grew up this way. The majority didn't. The majority were like Mr. Weasley, absolutely enthralled with anything muggle. Ginny had adapted well, but he only knew that because they were married. They lived together. Other than her, Harry scarcely heard from anyone else. He heard from Ron and Hermione a few times a year, mostly at holidays. It was never anything more than a "Happy Christmas. We miss you. Love Ron and Hermione Weasley." Sometimes he got a birthday card. He and Ginny sent the same back to them. It was just the way things were. Communication was strictly monitored between wizards. They were only allowed a certain amount of inter-wizard mail per year. He tried to send more the first year, but everything sent after he reached the limit was sent back with an angry red stamp on it telling him that he had already reached his limit and would be fined if he attempted to send any more mail to his kind. Harry understood the fuss more than most, but he still didn't like it. He missed the way it used to be, though there were some things he liked about this life. Things seemed to move slower. If you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself. You had to plan more. Everything took more time. It was a blessing and a curse. When you're running late, you end up late. You can't apparate and be there in seconds. Harry found it was easier to get places earlier than needed so that if anything happened on the way, he had some wiggle room. He hadn't been late in the entire year and a half he had been working at Grunnings.

His toast popped out of the toaster, Harry grabbed it and his coffee, and walked out the front door to the car. He picked up driving very quickly. He figured it helped that he had grown up around cars, even if he did wait until he was 26 to drive one for the first time. He buckled his seat belt, took a bite of his toast, and backed out of the driveway. He pulled off of his street and joined the other cars in the morning commute. Little Whinging was a normal town, full of normal people. Harry had slowly grown to love it there. When he was a child, he was never given the chance to appreciate it. Now that he was an adult, he saw the town for what it truly was. A relatively sleepy town where no one is more important than the next. You take care of yourself and those around you. No one makes a fuss over anything. It's the perfect town to just melt into. He'd only been there a month when people began asking him questions about the town as if he'd lived there his entire life. No one remembered him from when he was there as a child. He didn't expect them to. The only one who'd remember him was Mrs Figg and she was long gone now. Harry had a blank slate, except for his family. They had tamed down severely once they heard though. They were nice to him. He and Ginny went over often for lunch. They played board games. Uncle Vernon had even gotten Harry a job at Grunnings. The only reason Harry could think for their friendly behavior was that Harry was now normal. He could no longer do magic. No one could. He didn't know if someday, he would again, but for now, it was gone.

It was because of the war. Occasionally, through history, wizards and muggles clash. It was time for another war. It'd been centuries. This time, the muggles were upset at the methods wizards used to catch criminals that had escaped into the muggle world to wreak havoc. They thought it was inhumane. Then they found out about the prison and tried to force better conditions on it. They wanted real guards, not dementors. They learned about Hogwarts and didn't think the curriculum was regulated enough. They wanted the students learning English and reading and writing. They said since the school was in the UK, the students needed to learn on UK standards. Those things separate sound like bad reasons for a war, but that wasn't all. Just like with the previous wars, it was mostly jealously. Muggles want magic. They think wizards are hiding the magic and if they just fight hard enough, they'll give it to them. It doesn't work that way though.

This time was different than the past wars. Wizards usually win, because they have magic. This time, magic wasn't enough. The muggles had devices that could kill so many wizards at once with a huge explosion that they were unable to counterattack. They were too busy trying to heal and defend themselves from the weapons. It only lasted a few days, but it was long enough for many of the monuments and historical buildings in the wizarding world were destroyed. No one knows how the muggles found the magic world. The protection spells were as tight as ever. The only solution was that a rogue wizard must have helped. The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was forced to surrender. A deal was struck. The muggles were terrified of the wizards, so they wanted to guarantee they would always have the upper hand. There was no negotiation. There had already been too much wizard blood spilled. Shaklebolt had to take the first offer, because it was the only offer.

Wizards would be separated. Families could stay together, though there weren't many families left. Over half of the wizarding population hadn't survived the war. There would not be more than one wizard family in each town, no matter the size of the town. If Harry and Ginny wanted to travel, they had to ask permission from the FWHS, or the Former Wizard Help Services. The FWHS would ensure than no former wizards resided in the town they wanted to visit. If any did live there, your travel request would be denied. Most wizards were randomly assigned their new town somewhere in the United Kingdom. Foreign wizards returned to their home countries. Any muggle-born witches or wizards would return to their home town or to where their family currently resided. In Harry's case, he was raised by muggles, so he and Ginny were sent to Little Whinging. His aunt and uncle were tasked with helping him adapt to his new life. He also suspected they were spying on him, if only slightly, to make sure he wasn't discussing his former life around anyone. They had very little contact with other wizards. They could send holiday letters to their family, but even that had a quota. All of their wands were taken. Harry didn't know if they'd been destroyed or not. The Ministry of Magic took them, not muggles, so Harry hoped they were just being stored until such a day when they would be freed from their muggle imprisonment. He knew the Ministry was still together. Shacklebolt had reassured him of that when they saw each other last, before he and Ginny left for Little Whinging. Harry had a tiny glimmer of hope that his former life would someday return. For now though, Harry had drills to make.