The Life He'll Never Have

Prologue

3 years is all it took for the Wizarding World to forget about Voldemort. Sure, there were books about him, but the Wizarding World pretended it was a bad dream. Thousands of Obliviators were at work, fixing the memories of muggles' that were at the crossfire. St Mungo's had a huge fundraiser, and now could keep up with the high demand of Healers.

Hermione and Ron were now married, though still living in the burrow. Ron had declined Harry's offer to live with him in Grimmauld Place. Hermione went back and finished her NEWT's, as everyone expected, then moved onto Head of Magical Being's Welfare, a new department. Ron had gone back and helped George with his shop, helping out with plan's with taking over Zonko's.

Ginny was now Co Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, after Gwenog Jones had sought her out. She was now seeing Dean Thomas again, much to Ron's displeasure.

Everyone was healed again. Everyone except Harry.

After the war, Harry was out of control. He went out drinking, nightly, and hooked up with girls for one-night-stands. Everyone turned a blind eye, and just ignored him. He used to see Hermione every day, but everyday turned into every week, and then weeks turned into months, and months had turned into a year.

The Weasley's didn't exactly take Harry back in, as everyone predicted. After a week of tenseness, Molly cracked, and demanded him out. Bill and Charlie put up a protest, but everyone remained silent. Molly allowed George to throw him out literally. Harry still remembered the words that still haunt him to this day.

"Murderer. You practically killed Fred. Never come near us again"

Harry sat outside on the deck, infront of Grimmauld Place. It was early morning, and he was smoking. His last girl had just wandered off. He preferred Muggles over witches any day. The Muggles just thought he was handsome.

Harry thought about the last statement idly. He probably was. He was tall and muscular now. His jet black hair still acted like a mop, but it was styled now. He had gotten rid of his glasses, so his emerald green eyes shone.

Harry rubbed his eyes. He hated them. No one on earth had eyes like his, and when he wore a disguise, he had to change the colours of his eyes, but because his eyes were 'special', they seemed to melt the charm off. That ment whenever he tried to shop, he would use the restroom every store he entered.

Harry trained to be an Auror, but they didn't train him. He still kept the letter that Kingsley had sent him, when he applied for the program;

Dear Harry,

Due to your experience, the Ministry of Magic will allow you to pass into the Auror ranks immediately. Congratulations. You are due to the ministry Monday morning, 9am sharp, where you will receive instructions there. Congratulations again,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Minister for Magic

Great Britain.

Harry scoffed and stubbed out the cigarette. He turned up, and was instructed to do paperwork, only allowed on 'Dangerous Missions'. The Wizarding World made out that Harry was made out of glass, and was only allowed on missions that threatened people's lives.

He stood up and stretched. The Hungarian Horntail tattoo was finally real, but instead of his chest, was on his back. It stood out in brilliant shades of green that looked like real scales. He was drunk at the time, and was with Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was another weird aspect of Harry's life. They were more like drinking buddies than friends, but he was always there for a good time. Harry didn't mind.

As he made his way into No. Twelve, not caring to be quiet, ever since he smashed down Walburga Black's portrait with his fist. Twelve stitches later, he had a nice, empty wall. He also got rid of the god-awful troll's umbrella stand.

He made himself go up 4 stories, and finally collapsed into Sirius' room, his muggle biker girl posters were still there, as well as a letter Harry had found under his desk (when he was searching one day for his shoe), written to Harry's dad and fellow Marauder, James Potter.

Dear Prongs, the letter said.

It's absolutely bloody horrible being stuck here. What's not to love? With my dear old mum screeching her throat hoarse at me, or dad stroking the cane, every time I entered a room? Oh, let's not forget Reggie the 'Precious Black Heir'. Mum makes it obvious everytime we talk over dinner. Couldn't give a fat toss, obviously, but for some sick reason, she thinks I care.

How's Mummy and Daddy Potter? I hope that Charlus is Ok. The stroke scared me, Prongs. I hope Dorea's ok as well. Anyway, I heard on the grapevine that Snivillous joined Old Voldie this summer. I don't care, he can burn in hell with the others, but I thought you would want to know. Apparently the thing has got anti-penetrable charms on it, so you can't take it off. Don't ask me how I know, though I'll tell you anyway. Bella has been over a lot, going into dad's study *wink wink, nudge nudge* and she comes out flashing the thing everyone. Honestly, anyone would think that she was a stripper the way she acts and dresses. I've seen more of my cousin, that I could've lived without seeing.

Have you heard from Moony? Everytime his owl comes, the bloody thing poops on mum's head (not that, that's bad or anything) but I told him to send that owl again, because she swore she would (and I quote) 'Avada Kevada it's ass off'. Well, she did say more colourful words, but encase this get's into Dorea or Charlus' hands, I think PG 13 is ok now. (YAY FOR MUGGLE STUDDIES!)

Really bored here, Mum's taken my Prank things, even the smuggled stuff. (Super sensory charms), so I cant prank her. Bugger. Missing your furry arse,

Padfoot the Great.

The parchment was yellow, crinkled and old, but it was still treasured. As Harry laid down, he wished for more excitement. Anything, anything at all.

Helga sighed sadly, while looking at the Raven haired boy. "Well, I for one think that we should help"

Salazar looked outraged "We'd be twisting fate and time, for one single boy?"

"Man" Rowena interrupted "he's a man"

"Exactly" argued Salazar "he's a big boy, he'll figure it out"

Godric roared "I want to help, and if I have to do it alone, then my Merlin, I shall do it by my self. But there is no stopping me. Rowena? Helga? Salazar?"

"I'll help" Helga said confidently

"Me too" Rowena sighed

Salazar sighed theatrically, but nodded. "Fine" he reluctantly agreed "But I bags not talking to Time"

Godric nodded confidently "We'll talk to our own kin"

Rowena sighed "trust me to get a stubborn one"

Helga smiled fondly "That's Time for you"

A/N; Rewritten. 9/12/10. Enjoy.