Chapter 1
"The usual?"
Harry Potter looked up and grinned at the pretty young waitress who always worked the early Sunday shift at The Fig, his favorite cafe in Ho Chi Minh. "Yeah, thanks. And tell Tung that I want extra chilis and bean sprouts."
She rolled her eyes at the reminder and banished his order to the tiny kitchen, where an angry Vietnamese wizard was levitating ingredients into several ancient cauldrons, filled to the brim with either extremely strong black coffee or beef bone soup, the main ingredient for the cafe's signature pho.
Harry was sitting at his usual table in The Fig's outdoor garden and listening to the sound of falling water from the elevated pool, in which a large Buddha statue rested peacefully, yawning once in a while when he thought no one was looking. The enclosed garden was shaded by a canopy created by a couple of dozen magnificent, ancient rubber trees. Magical flowers and plants surrounded the elevated pool set in the middle of the large courtyard. Within the pool floated many white and pink Tinkling Lily Pads, an innocuous looking flower with a red center that, if not fed their meal of large mossy frogs twice a day, would produce a seductive lullaby inducing a dreamless sleep from which the listener could never be awaken. The ground was covered by soft Creeping Moss that attempt to expand its green, furry body over everything (and everyone) it touches unless constant Repelling Charms are cast.
Harry had been strongly reminded of the Forbidden Forest the first time he had set foot into the little outdoor garden, not an insignificant factor in The Fig being his most frequented establishment since he arrived in Ho Chi Minh a little less than an year ago.
Yawning himself, Harry stretched out lazily and took a look around. He saw a couple of other regulars, one or two of which gave him a small wave. He waved back and was debating on whether he wanted to exercise his extremely limited and rather horrible Vietnamese when he saw a small and extremely fluffy and round object flying towards him.
Ron Weasley's owl, Pigwidgeon, hooted happily as he almost landed in Harry's coffee cup and started pecking at Harry's napkin, looking for food.
"Hold on Pig, I'll get you some food. Just hold still! At least let me untie Ron's letter." Harry finagled the small roll of parchment from Pig's jumping feet. "Thuy! Can I get some bread for the owl?"
Harry unrolled the letter and let out a whoop of excitement at the first line. Ignoring the irritated look of a nearby American wizard, who was always telling Thuy loudly that he was working his novel about the Vietnam Vampire Wars, as well as a shush from Thuy, now petting Pig, who was hooting delightedly that a pretty girl was paying attention to him, Harry read on eagerly.
I'm going to ask Hermione to marry me.
I've finally got enough gold saved up for the ring. Bloody expensive thing but it's definitely the one she wants. Woman's been dropping hints left and right about which shop I should go to and what her ring size is. I told her that if I got it wrong, she could just do a Shrinking Charm on it, and she blew up at me and went on and on about how the ring fitting properly wasn't the point. Women.
Harry, you have to come back for the proposal, can't do it without you! Also, Hermione's going to drive me crazy with all her wedding plans once we're engaged so I need another bloke around. Can you imagine? Hermione, Mum, Ginny, and Fleur all planning the wedding together? If someone hasn't been Bat Bogeyed at the end, well, if you don't come back, it'll probably be me.
Mate, you have been away long enough. Me and Hermione miss you. The whole family miss you. Mum might kill you when you get back for staying away so long but you know she's mental about you. I reckon 3 years' enough time right?
Think about it why don't you? You can apparate back anytime and stay with me.
Come home.
Ron
P.S. Hope Pig makes it over there alright. You might have to send him back with one of those Vietnamese birds like last time. You know he's rubbish at international travel.
P.S.S. I really hope she says yes.
Harry stared at the letter, his excitement deflating a little. Three years. Has it been that long?
His eyes scanned Ron's enduringly messy handwriting and his gaze caught on the name that always caused his stomach to twist every time Ron or Hermione casually dropped her name in their letters. He shook his head slightly to clear it and reread the end.
Come home.
Was he ready to go back to England? The lazy rhythm of Southeast Asia had been a balm to his soul after the frantic events of the Battle of Hogwarts but lately…he had been feeling restless. The laid-back expat life no longer soothed him as it once did. The call of the cold and rain and comforting familiarity of England had only grown stronger in recent months, though he did his best to ignore the pull.
He knew he was fighting an inevitable conclusion. He knew that he could not run forever, could not continue bumming from city to city halfway around the world from his friends, his family, his world. He had just wanted to rest, to escape, was that too much to ask?
But now…
Was he ready to be Harry Potter again? Whatever that meant now? Whoever that meant?
He looked down at the letter again. Ron. Hermione. Getting married!
He felt himself smiling widely at the thought. Well, if she says yes. He snorted at Ron's suggestion and the impossibility of Hermione saying no. Harry was willing to bet quite a lot of galleons that Hermione doesn't even let Ron finish the proposal. About time they made it official!
Those two have been acting like an old married couple since 1st Year, driving him mad with all their bickering. The last time they had visited Harry, about 2 months into his stay in Vietnam, they had a huge row at Cu Chi tunnel, where Hermione insisted they go to learn more about how Vietnamese vampires made their muggles hide in underground tunnels to attack the American vampires and their muggles. Ron had complained incessantly about how the small tunnels were not made for proper "English-sized Weasleys" but did not want to be left behind and ended up getting stuck in one of the many tunnels. They rounded off the whole fiasco by making up (and making out) dramatically at Turtle Lake while Harry drank way too many Bia Hanois in an attempt to ignore them and the attention they drew from sniggering locals.
Still chuckling at the memory, he rolled up Ron's letter and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. Feeling his resolve strengthen, he quickly wrote his reply.
Ron, I'm coming home. For good. Will be at your flat tonight at 6PM."
After calling for the Tropicbird he had taken to using as an owl, he sent his response back with a well-fed Pig, twittering slightly less than usual.
Thinking of all the packing he had to do, he sat up with a groan. He quickly slurped his pho and got another delicious iced vietnamese coffee to go. They didn't make them like this at the Three Broomsticks and he wanted to savor his last one for a while.
He paid and bade a slightly sad farewell to Thuy, who waved at him quite cheerfully. He had never been good at goodbyes and felt a slight twinge of regret as he walked home from the cafe.
—-
As soon as he had opened his front door, another, much more professional, tawny owl swooped in his window with the International Daily Prophet, which Harry paid an arm and a leg for to be delivered to him overseas. His self-imposed exile didn't extend to news about the wizarding world.
He put a sickle in the owl's money bag, unfurled the Daily Prophet, and automatically flipped to the Sports section out of habit, his eyes automatically seeking out the same name that he looked for every day. He did not have to look long today.
"GINNY WEASLY, RISING STAR OF THE HOLYHEAD HARPIES AND NEWLY CROWNED ROOKIE OF THE YEAR, ACCOMPANIED TO AWARD CEREMONY BY RUMORED LOVER AND TEAM OWNER, DRACO MALFOY"
Harry's eyes narrowed. He scanned further down the page and saw the picture. Hs body suddenly went very hot and then extremely cold.
Ginny Weasley, stunning in an off-the-shoulder dark evening gown, was laughing at something Draco Malfoy, looking, Harry had to admit, rather sharp in what looked to be a handsome Muggle tux, was whispering in her ear. His arm was slung around her waist and his smirk extremely smug.
Malfoy. Ginny.
Harry folded the paper sharply, unable to properly process this new startling information. He wanted to hit or kick something, or punch someone, punch Malf-
BANG!
He jumped. A large cracked had formed in the body length mirror in the corner of his living room and he realized that his fists were clenched tightly together and his control was dangerously thin.
He firmly shut away his thoughts and his feelings in the part of his brain where he had put all his thoughts and feelings about Ginny for the past three years. Trying to get his breathe under control, he took in several large gulps of air and turned his head around wildly for something in the room to distract him.
He glanced down at the front page and paused at another familiar face. Kingsley Shacklebolt's serious face stared piercingly at him underneath a headline proclaiming "MINSTER OF MAGIC SEEKING TO OVERHAUL AUROR DEPARTMENT."
Harry started reading the article eagerly and felt an odd tingling of excitement starting in his stomach. By the time he read the words "qualified applicants please apply by owl," he felt like he had swallowed the Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs Deflagration Deluxe.