Harry was high. He'd stayed high often. He found that he needed to be in order to go through the daily grind of a nine to five job. Getting high also made him feel like he was flying.
"God," he thought, "I haven't flown since I left Hogwarts. Must have been ten years now… give or take," Ginny had convineced Harry to move the family to America after the Battle of Hogwarts. She'd also done everything in her powerto snub out any form of magic. The years had changed her into a bigger woman.
"Potter! I need those reports in by the end of the day or it's your ass!" Harry's boss had walked in. He was a fat balding man, but he compensated from his physical inadequate by being a dick to everyone. Harry was flying high and didn't let his boss get him down.
"I…. ah… I faxed them… over… This morning," he said. It took a great effort for him not to laugh. Not because he was stoned, but because his bastard of a boss still used a fax machine. It must be the hipster in him.
"This morning you say? Hmmm, where did you fax them to again?" This was almost too much for Harry to handle. He bit his tongue and forced his grin to be only halfway idiotic.
"Oh you know. The… The… Payroll," his cheeks were starting to hurt. Luckily, Harry's boss was too much of a straight arrow white colour chump to tell when his employee was baked.
"Good work Potter! Oh, and there's a call for you. You can take it in the lobby." This surprised Harry. The only one that ever called was Ginny, and that was only on rare occasions, mainly when she was happy. He reluctantly got up from his chair and walked towards the lobby. Once there, he picked up the phone.
"Hello Ginny," said Harry.
"Harry you bastard! You said you were going to pick Albus up from his karakte class today!" Ginny was pissed, which meant nothing unusual was happening.
"Oh hell! Sorry about that darling. Boss has been keeping me late… and… I…. God it's hot in here!' There was a pause from the other line. For a minute Harry was afraid she'd hung up.
"No, don't you dare even tell me your high! Bloody hell Harry! Honestly!"
"Now don't get all… fired… up. It's not as bad as it seems. I can pick him up now. I think my boss is too busy trying to get his 8-track player to work to notice if I slip off." This seemed to relieve some of the anger in Ginny's voice, which worried him.
"Just bring him home," she said.
"I love you," said Harry. There was no reply. Harry hung up the phone and quietly left the office.
As Harry drove down the busy Manhattan streets, he couldn't help but think how the magic had all gone from his life. He was also aware that he'd just made a pun, but he was too baked to care. It had been many years since he was truly happy. He loved Ginny, but time does funny things to a woman. Her attitude towards magic almost mirrioed that of the Dursleys. She said all she wanted was a nice quit start-over in America, away form all the history they had with Hogwarts. Harry thought it was funny how she picked Harlem to live for a quit place. This city had more dark arts than Voldemort and his legion of Death Eaters.
Harry parked his car, a beat-up 57 Chevy, in front of the karate class. Ginny had always protested Albus, taking up the sport. Harry thought it was a damn fine idea, learning how to defend himself just like a muggle.
Harry entered the building. He saw his son engaged in a match with an older boy. Albus unfortunately wasn't doing too good. To be fair, it wasn't all his fault. The boy was clearly more experienced. It was an unfair match.
Albus threw a punch, but the boy easily blocked it and knocked Albus down.
"Alright! That's enough for today. Potter, that was sloppy work, as usual," said the coach. "God, what was it about fat bald men that made them act like dicks," thought Harry as he examined the coach. He also didn't take too kindly to what he was saying about his son.
"Sorry sir. I'll try better next time," said Albus. The coach laughed.
"No, I doubt you will. You're pathetic. I don't even know why you bother showing up here." Harry was quickly on his feet as he marched up to the coach.
"Do we have a problem here," said Harry. Albus looked at his father, he wished he'd not gotten involved.
"Your son is the worst student I've ever seen! Why don't you take your money and get him out of here," said the coach. Harry laughed.
"Well maybe if he had a coach that actually knew how to teach, he'd improve. What do you think about that?" The coach got right up in Harry's face, a mistake few people made.
"Are you questioning my skills as a coach?" spat the man.
"Of course not," said Harry, "I'm questioning your skill at fighting and rather or not you're a bloody dick." This set the coach off. Harry could see his nostrils flair as he nearly took a swing at him.
"Fuck you!" shouted the coach. He threw a hard pucn towards harry, which Harry easily doged. The coach then got into a better fighting stance. Harry just stood there. Although, he did place his right hand in his jacket pocket where his wand was. The coach spun around for a super-dragon-Ching-Chong-Chow-Wow kick! Harry stepped back a few paces and let his wand do all the action. The man felt an unknown force take over him and he was knocked down to the ground hard.
"Come on Albus, let's go home. This man can't teach you anything," said Harry. For the briefest of moments, Harry felt alive again. Today was a good day to get high.
