Facing one's Demons

By Harry's Heros

"Here's your mail Mr. Potter"

"Thank you Cynthia, I appreciate it" Harry said, smiling at the delicate, blonde secretary who placed his stack of mail on his desk in his office at the American Magic Administration (Ministry of Magic).

Harry Potter, age 23 years old and Vice- Head Auror had lived a quiet life of dark wizard catching and American television for 5 years, ever since he left London, left his best friends and left….him. Harry quickly rose through the ranks of the American Aurors since his arrival, mostly due in part to his defeat of Lord Voldemort 6 years prior.

"Invitation to the Administration Ball….. Letter from Fred and George… huh?" Harry muttered to himself quietly as he filtered through his mail. Instead of the bright colored envelops written with the variously colored and glittery inks (which often left sprinkles o glitter on his desk) he was accustomed to getting from other magical folks, he stumbled across an ordinary white envelope written in standard black ink. With his curiosity intensified, he carefully opened the letter and skimmed it with a soft gasp.

"Dear Harry,

How have you been doing? Haven't seen/spoken to you in quite some time. Everything is going well on this end. I just recently graduated from the University and plan on getting married soon. I hope everything is going well with you. Have you graduated from that school of yours yet, Hog-something….."

Harry couldn't help but let out a groan in frustration at the insulting play on his first true home's name.

"But I bet you're wondering why I'm writing to you after so much time. Well, dad has been diagnosed with a terminal illness and I'm afraid that he doesn't have too much time left. I know you, mum and dad didn't really get along all that much when we were younger…"

"Didn't really get along? That's the understatement of the century…." Harry muttered darkly as he took a sip of his afternoon tea before resuming his reading.

"and I know you and I didn't really care for one another growing up, and most if not all of that is my fault. However, it really would mean so much to me at least if you could come and see dad one last time. I know you're probably wondering why you should go see dad before his time is up, and to be perfectly honest, I can't really give you an answer. But I sincerely hope that if you don't come for him, at least come or mum. And if not for mum then at least me.

Hope to SEE you soon,

Your Cousin Dudley Dursley.

Harry sat motionless for a few minutes while re-reading the letter absentmindedly. Inside his thoughts were going hundreds of miles an hour.

'Should I even bother going? They hate mate and I pretty much hate them…' Harry thought strongly as he folded his letter and sat quietly in reflection. His reflection was brought to an abrupt end when Cynthia wondered back into his office. Her sparkling smile vanished upon seeing the distressed look on Harry's face.

"Is there something… stupid question" Cynthia cut herself off. "What's wrong Mr. Potter? You look really down in the dumps" Cynthia finished, taking a seat in front of Harry's desk. Is was customary for Harry to vent to Cynthia in times where he was depressed by something, or frustrated with some of the more junior Aurors or Administration politics. Cynthia truly served as a trusted confidant to Harry over the last couple of years.

"Nothing really… just that I got a letter from my cousin Dudley is all." Harry mumbled, still staring into space.

"Mmhmm and?"

"Well, you see… me and the Dursleys pretty much hate each other. They hated the fact that I was a wizard and made my childhood worse than hell." Harry paused, while Cynthia nodded in understanding and an indicator to continue.

"Well, apparently my Uncle Vernon is umm.. sick and doesn't have much time left and Dudley is requesting that I come and visit before he uh… goes through the Veil (A/N: 3rd year reference… gotta love it lol).

Cynthia looked at Harry with a questioning look on her face as Harry got up to look outside of his window in contemplation.

"So, what's the problem sir? Can't get the time off?" Cynthia asked slowly. Harry turned around and sat on his window sill, looking at Cynthia with a 'what the hell?' look on his face.

"The PROBLEM is Cynthia, I don't know if I really should or really want to go? These are the people who treated me as if I were the dirt between a dog's toes. They made me live in a cupboard until I was 11 and took almost every opportunity to make me miserable… why should I go see that prick before he dies?" Harry stated, voice slowly growing louder with intensity.

Cynthia merely looked at her boss and gave a heavy sigh "I understand Mr. Potter. I honestly feel that you should"

"But…"

"But nothing sir. I mean no disrespect, but regardless of the hell you've gone through, they're still your family. They still put clothes on your back, food in your stomach and a roof over your head…"

"Just barely and…"

"AND Mr. Potter sir, they could have certainly cast you aside and you wouldn't be where you are today. Think about it this way.." Cynthia said firmly, as she stood up from her chair and walked to the door, "How would you feel if your Uncle passed, and you weren't there. You'll live the rest of your life with resentment and unresolved issues all because you're being too stubborn. Sir." Cynthia added before walking out of Harry's office.

Flabbergasted, Harry slumped into his office chair. He had really hoped he wouldn't have to return to Europe for the rest of his life. Returning would mean facing his dying Uncle and his other relatives, possibly facing the two friends with whom he departed from on less than friendly terms, and worst of all possibly facing the love of his life who he could never quite get over.

Deciding that Cynthia was probably right, he wrote a brief letter to Fred and George, asking if he could stay with them for a week. Placing a fire-resistant charm on the letter, he threw some flew powder into his in-office fire place and called out "Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Headquarters" before flooing his letter to the twins.

After the letter was on it's way, he reached into the lower most drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey and a shot class. 'If I'm having to face three beasts at once, I'm going to need this'

A/N: How was that for my first chapter. There's more to come folks! Please read and review, it takes mere seconds and it would be great!