Hi guys, I saw a tumblr post about someone wanting this kind of fanfic so I thought... why not :P If you see the post circling around, please link them to this fanfiction! Thank you and hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine; they belong (sadly) to J.K Rowling.

It all started with a letter. Not a special letter by any means; nothing confessing love, a tragedy or even an acceptance letter to Cambridge. No, this was just a small hand written letter by a raven-haired man called Harry Potter.

As he skimmed his eyes over the letter once more, searching for faults or things that could be taken the wrong way, Harry Potter questioned himself whether he should send the parchment or not. He wondered whether or not he should've written a longer letter, however, as his eyes darted to the growing pile of scrunched up parchment in the corner, he decided not to.

Dear Mrs Malfoy,

This is just a small thank you letter expressing my greatest and sincerest gratitude for saving my life. Not only was it very brave of you, but also it was also completely undeserving and kind.

I am now in debt towards you; I owe you my life. If in the future you require anything, feel completely at liberty to owl me for my help.

Sincerely, Harry Potter.

Harry sighed quietly. Writing in a formal fashion had never been his forte. Quickly before he changed his mind, he folded up the parchment and tucked it into an envelope, scribbling Narcissa Malfoys name on the front. He walked over to his office window, where Noah, a dark barrel owl, perched. After feeding him a small sachet of owl food, Harry tied the envelope to the owl's leg.

He stood at the window of his office, watching as the owl flew further and further away from the building, before disappearing into the looming clouds that covered the city of London.

"Ron!"

Ron sighed loudly, before swallowing his large mouthful of food. He turned towards Hermione,

"Yes?" he asked.

"Could you please talk when you've finished chewing? It's bad enough that you're doing it when Harry's around."

He rolled his eyes before digging back into his meal, ignoring his fuming girlfriend sat next to him.

'I'm sorry, Harry." She said, "I've tried to get him to stop, but his manners just remain so disgusting." She glared out of the corner of her eye towards Ron before looking back at Harry.

"I'm not a dog." Ron mumbled, frowning at the potatoes on his plate.

"Well, you might as well be with the amount of mess you make." Hermione snapped.

Harry sighed inwardly but grinned at his friends. Some things never change.

Since Hogwarts, the three of them had remained the famous Golden Trio. Regardless of the fact that Harry had a busy work schedule, that Ron was an Auror and Hermione had many meetings, the three of them always managed to get together. It was mostly Harry that had to keep up the effort to see them, as Ron and Hermione lived together. Every weekend, they all met up at either Harry or Ron and Hermione's apartment and every Tuesday they visited a new restaurant or pub they hadn't been to yet. Today, they were in a small corner restaurant with some exotic name Harry didn't have the ability to remember. The food was quite nice, but mostly meals he had never heard of. When the waiter came over to ask them what they wanted, Hermione had ordered for herself and Ron, leaving Harry to grasp at straws in effort to choose a meal. In the end, he decided on something that suspiciously sounded like lamb chops, though he wasn't sure until his food came out, steaming on a plate.

As Harry prodded the side dish of salad he was given with his fork, Hermione asked him a few questions, as to what he was doing currently at work.

"So, what's the latest project?" she queried, interested.

"Well, at the moment we just finished shipping out some of the art pieces that weren't on show to several big companies in America. " he replied. In short, Harry worked in the art industry. He bought and sold wizard artwork for a company he started, called Wizart. They had many regions around Europe that held galleries of Wizart work, but it mainly situated in London, where many of the art shows were held. What's the difference between normal art and wizard art you ask? That is a good question. Like photography in the wizarding world, artwork could move. It was really a rather fantastic site to see, and Harry enjoyed spending many days in the colourful gallery underneath his office. If you were not able to create moving artwork, then there were other magical means of making it special, but that's a story for another day.

"Oh that's good, were they big pieces of work?" Hermione, unlike Ron, had always been interested in his line of work. To her, like many other muggleborns or muggle-raised people, wizard artwork was absolutely mesmerizing.

"Only a couple were small. The others weren't very interesting, but we still managed to sell them off. At least they're not in our hands anymore and we don't need to look after them. They still sold for quite a lot. We might even be able to open up a new gallery in France." Harry tried to steer the conversation away from money, as he saw Ron glance up from his meal as he was speaking. Even though he and Hermione earned a substantial amount of money, he was still jittery around the subject.

"Fascinating... Well that will be useful, you'd be able to bring in more foreign wizards to appreciate your work." she replied, eyes gleaming in happiness for her friend. "Harry, you know I am very proud of you, right? Barely a year out of Hogwarts and you managed to start up your own company and it's thriving."

Harry chuckled, "I suppose being famous helped."

Harry opened the door to his apartment in Grimmauld Place, setting the keys in a porcelain bowl.

He called out quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet peacefulness of the house, "Kreacher?"

Kreacher appeared out of the air in front of Harry almost immediately with a sharp pop, wearing a bland beige rag around his middle. "Welcome home, Master." He croaked, bowing.

"Thanks, Kreacher." Harry said awkwardly. Ever since he became the owner of the apartment, thus the master of Kreacher, he had never overcome the disturbing feeling of having a house elf. At first, Kreacher was very stubborn and sulked around the house as much as he could. Now, only two years later, he tolerated Harry and even on a few occasions, defended him.

"While Master was out with Ms Granger and Mr Weasley, a letter arrived for Master." Kreacher held out in his bony fingers a crisp, neat envelope with his name written in an elegant scrawl on the top.

Harry took the envelope with a quick thanks, Kreacher disappearing off quietly, and looked at the back of the envelope.

The name Narcissa Malfoy was written delicately on the paper.

More things will happen in the future, including information on why Harry is an artist etc etc etc. Tell me if I make any spelling mistakes and if there was anything wrong with what I wrote (i.e doesn't follow the storyline).

Review or I will eat your soul. Thank you 3