Chapter 1

Wizarding Britain didn't like Harry Potter very much after the war. "He's dangerous" "He needs to be put down." "He's gone dark." Harry went from the Boy-Who-Lived to social pariah and back again so many times that he had been hopeful it would change. Maybe after a few years and some well placed public appearances they would understand. He did what he had to do. He did what Dumbledore said to do. Voldemort is gone, right? All is well?

Those hopeful expectations quickly withered as more and more of Harry's "friends" drifted away. Even Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasly kept him at arms length. It was subtle, Ron and Hermione had new jobs, they were always busy with work, he could understand. Ginny was still at school, he knew she was very absorbed in her coursework, but that's to be expected, right? Her N.E.W.T.s are coming up, so he shouldn't expect any letters. It wasn't until he made a fire call to say Happy Christmas, he realized the deception. There in the kitchen of the Burrow, stood Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Molly. They hadn't noticed him yet, so he could hear Hermione start the very conversation that would sever Harry's last ties to his almost family.

"You're not inviting Harry this year, right?"

Molly sighed, "No, but I'll have to make something up for Arthur and the rest of the boys. They don't realize what being connected to Harry is doing to our reputation."

Ron nodded gravely, "I have no idea why they still like him. He caused Fred and Percy's deaths and Bill's disfigurement for God's sake!"

He was clearly very agitated. Hermione reached a hand over to calm him, but Ron shook her off and left the room.

Ginny, who looked like she'd been contemplating something, piped in, "We should figure out something to make Dad and the boys cut ties. Harry is a bad influence, not to mention a stain on our name."

He examined the faces of his surrogate mother and sister for their responses, but both looked deep in thought. He wasn't sure he could stand whatever they came up with, and he pulled his head out of the fire.

His head was spinning. He couldn't even begin to pinpoint when this act had started. Did they always hate him? Or was it after the Battle of Hogwarts? Or maybe while they were hunting horcruxes, during the war? He shook his head. 'Don't think about it. Just act like everything's normal.'

He got up and stumbled his way to the only chair at the table. Grimmauld Place had always felt too big after Sirius died, but right now the walls felt like they were closing in on him. He looked at the one grimy window in the entire kitchen with doubt. Eventually his need for fresh air won out over his reluctance to try, and he made way over to it.

After several minutes of desperate wrestling with the window, he could see a small crack of moonlight peeking through. Once the seal of years of grime had been cracked, the rest was slightly easier. The window slid open slowly with loud squeals of protest, but opened none the less.

Harry took a deep breath of wintry night air, and felt the cold seep into his skin. It was cooling (he'd worked up a bit of a sweat trying to get that window open) and calming. His mind was clearer now, he felt like he could think once again.

Because of Harry's leading role in the war, his mind worked a little differently than most 20 year olds. Constantly evaluating situations in high stress conditions had drastically changed his brain chemistry. His mindset had changed from average teenage boy to seasoned tactician in the course of a few short months.

As a result of Harry's new, hardened outlook, he made an excellent curse breaker. And since most respectable wizards wouldn't even be seen with Harry, much less employ him, the goblins took full advantage of that. He got regular assignments from Gringotts that no one else would take. This provided him with a steady income, an excuse to get away from Britain, and something to keep his mind occupied.

Suddenly, an owl swooped in through the open window. Although he hadn't wanted to replace his beloved owl, Hedwig, he needed to. Communication between himself and his employers was vital and common sense eventually won out over sentimentality. He picked up the letter the owl had dropped on the floor. It was from Gringotts, another assignment. He smiled. It would be a welcome distraction.

-Author's Note-

hello! This is my first time writing on this website, I usually just observe, but I wanted to try my hand at writing for a change. I'm not sure if anyone will read this, but if you do please feel free to leave a review or message me. Please let me know if you find any mistakes, and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)

thank you