Drip…drip…drip…The monotonous noise echoed in the roomy passageway, the wooden floors magnifying the sound until it reached the ears of the man slumped at the mahogany table. Parchments were strewn across the polished wooden surface, a quill lay across several of them leaking black ink and a pair of gold rimmed spectacles teetered precariously on the edge of the surface. The man started into the depths of the ruby wood, his green eyes portrayed no sense of cogitation, they were blank but dark smudges underneath them showed his tiredness. His hair stuck up in great tufts, as if never to be tamed and his hands, which were tucked under his chin were calloused and covered in ink.

Drip…drip…drip…The sound of neglect and despair, the sound of anger and regret. The sound reached the ears of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Suddenly the sound of a key in the lock and a door banging open shattered the fragile stillness of the world. The man at the table jumped, the gold rimmed spectacles made a desperate leap to the floor and the world was filled with voices and life.

'Hello…Harry…We're home! Go into the front room Hermione and I'll bring you a cup of tea. Come on sweetheart, let's go and show Daddy the lovely drawing you did today…Harry! Where are you? Ron and Hermione are here!'

The man at the table sat up and rubbed inky hands across his face. 'Bugger.' He said quietly but emphatically and then… 'Hello James. How are you?'

A small boy in a t-shirt and what looked like a very full nappy stood in the doorway of the room. In his tiny hand was clutched a piece of sugar paper covered in blue scribble. His mouth worked furiously at a bright green dummy and his huge green eyes were full of tears. A muscle twitched in his chin and then he opened a huge red mouth and began to yell. The dummy fell from his mouth and he yelled even harder. Behind him suddenly appeared a red haired woman dressed in a pair of old jeans and a knitted poncho. She was heavily pregnant and looked as tired as Harry.

'It's alright petal, Mummy's here! Oh, you dropped your dummy…' She picked up the green pacifier from the floor and attempted to stick in back in the baby's mouth. He was having none of it however, squirming and wriggling out of her reach he half crawled across the floor to his father and pulled himself upright using Harry's robe.

Absent-mindedly Harry picked him up and looked over at the red haired woman, his wife Ginny who was now picking up the parchment which had fallen to the floor and talking very fast.

'Like I said Harry, Ron and Hermione are here. They want to talk to you I think…some Ministry stuff and…oh look you've spilt coffee on this one…Yes, something about work and don't forget that I'm going out tomorrow. Mum said she'll look after James if you need to go into work and…oh Harry you could have tidied up a bit…it's like a hovel in here and…is that tap dripping again…?

She was cut off as Harry moved. He stood up, the black circles under his dull eyes giving him an unkempt look.

'Sorry. Yes I'll look at the tap in a minute. Here, James, come up here.' He hoisted the baby up into his arms and then onto his hip, kissing his temple affectionately. The child instantly stopped crying and with a gurgle pressed his sticky face against his father's neck. Harry then stepped over the parchments and approached his wife. 'Please stop talking for one second and give me a kiss like you used to?' Ginny did stop talking then and looked up at the black haired man she had loved so long.

'I can't. I have too much to do.' She moved away towards the door and from there into the kitchen. 'Bloody bloody tap.' He heard her say then a muttered charm ended the incessant drop forever. Harry felt like he'd lost an old friend.

'Come on then James boy. Let's go and see Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron'

When Harry entered the front room his two oldest and closest friends were in a frozen tableaux. Hermione sat on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap, her grey robe draped neatly over her knees and her somewhat bushy hair smoothed back into a tight bun. Ron on the other hand stood by the mantelpiece looking at some of the other scribbled drawings of James's that Ginny proudly displayed. His green eyes were bright and he wore muggle clothes. A pair of jeans with stained knees and a green sweater with white stains on the shoulder. The perpetrator of this stain, a rather chubby baby with bright orange hair was held against his chest and he bounced gently on the balls of his feet rocking the child from side to side.

When Harry entered both their expressions changed. Hermione appeared to force a smile onto her face and rose from the sofa to clasp Harry in her arms. 'Hello stranger' she said 'How are you keeping?'

Harry murmured 'Ok, thanks' and then turned to greet Ron. A smile spread across his friend's face as Harry neared him. He gave his a peremptory hug and then crouched to speak to James. 'You brought your Daddy to see me did you?' Harry saw Hermione quickly raise her eyes to heaven and then she said.

'It is lovely to see you Harry, and Ginny and James, of course, but we really need to get down to business and discuss the matter at hand. Ginny entered the room at this point with a tray containing a teapot and, rather pointedly Harry thought, three mugs. She left the room, coaxing James out with a crooked finger, without saying anything at all.

'Right.' Harry said, with more conviction that he felt, 'Ron, tuck Rose down for a nap on the other sofa and we'll discuss this properly.' He poured the tea out into three mugs and added milk and sugar. 'So, what's happening.'

Hermione took out a folder containing several documents and proceeded to tell Harry about the new movements of several former Death Eaters. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked rhythmically reminding Harry of every second that went past in the seemingly endless battle to rid the world of all remnants of Voldemort's reign of power.

'And, worst of all,' she concluded 'it seems that the werewolves we knew were hiding out in Hertfordshire appear to have been joined by several Death Eaters. This is not good news Harry. Werewolves attack muggles anyway, and the last thing we need is Death Eaters there spreading ideas of hatred and retribution!'

Harry rubbed his aching head and stood up. 'I'm sorry Hermione. It's just not going in that well. The last few weeks have been so busy. How about I take the papers and look through them. I'll be at the Ministry tomorrow and I'll come and find you.'

Ron, who had remained silent throughout the whole meeting then piped up. 'I'm coming in tomorrow too mate. First time since that one was born.' He nodded at his sleeping daughter. 'Still I suppose that it will mean I can spend at least some time with my wife.'

'Oh don't be ridiculous Ron, you see me all the time.' Hermione snapped. The tension in the room seemed to thicken a bit and Harry felt uncomfortable as he always did when his two best friends rowed. 'Well if you need to get up early for work, Dear, we ought to get home.' There was poison in Hermione's voice and when she rose to say goodbye to Harry her demeanour was cold. The couple apparated from the hallway and Harry swore he could feel the chill in the house lift somewhat.

That evening was silent in the Potter household. Harry ate his dinner alone at the dining table, surrounded by his papers, and Ginny ate with James and then sat alone with his sleeping form after she had read to him from The Tales of Beedle the Bard. At midnight the large clock in the dining room began to chime, when the last bell had struck and the resonation had died away Harry heard a familiar sound echoing in the house.

'Drip…drip…drip.' The leaky tap had fought against Ginny's curse and had won. The sound seemed to trigger something inside Harry. His patience had worn thinner and thinner over the past few months. He felt as if, now that Lord Voldemort had been vanquished, he had no real purpose. His friends were fighting, his marriage was almost over and his work was no longer inspiring and exhilarating. The battle had been won but there was no glory for the victor, just an endless battle with paperwork and recrimination.

Harry stood up and, as if he were on autopilot, he turned on his heel and vanished into thin air. The air seemed to shimmer and then an image fixed in his eyes. He was standing before a red brick farmhouse with large windows and sweeping lawns. Slowly, as if guided by some unknown power, Harry walked up the great drive, the gravel crunching under his feet. The lion's head knocker before him was cast iron and cool as he reached out and crashed it against the great wooden door. A cursing could be heard within then the sound of a bolt shooting back and the door swung inwards revealing a pale skinned man with blond hair and a commanding presence.

'Potter?'

'Good evening Malfoy.'

I know I haven't written in a while, so sorry if I'm a bit rusty. I know it's a bit depressing now but promise it will pick up. Please leave reviews, they make me happy!