"Congratulations! Che-e-e-e-ers!"

Embarrassed, I smiled and squinted as the fireworks exploded above my head. I've never been a fan of attention, even though today I'm not the only one celebrating. The party was organized by some of Ron's friends to mark the end of our studies. Yes, that's right – from now on we are officially Aurors! The dream has come true, I guess.

"Ron, Harry, I'm so happy for you!" Hermione finally made it through the crowd of our drunken classmates and hugged us, just like when we were eleven.

"C'mon, you didn't even believe we could do it," Ron teased her – he had endured a whole month of Hermione's lectures on how he was lazy and disorganised. Obviously, it wasn't true; it's just that he and I were both so ready for the finals and could've not even opened our textbooks, but who on earth was able to explain such a thing to Hermione?

"That's not true! I never doubted you," replied Hermione, grinning happily.

"Let's go somewhere," I suggested in a low voice. "I guess there's no other way to avoid a bender."

"Harry, are you going to run off your own graduation party? I don't think so," Ron shook his head sceptically. "Besides, I have nothing to say against a bender."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, but gave up almost instantly. She of all people knew that it was useless to argue with Ron on this one.

I had no choice but to sigh resignedly: if Ron decided we were going to have fun, nothing could possibly stop him.

"By the way, Harry, what did you decide about the house?" asked Hermione. "You'll definitely have to live there now."

She looked at me, waiting for an answer. I winced: a year ago or so she forced me to rearrange things at Grimmauld place. We got rid of the elf heads, changed the wallpaper and the upholstery and so on, but to me the house remained one of the most unpleasant places on Earth. I felt better in the cupboard under the stairs, if you ask me. Hermione was driven by the thought that it was my only house, and that I would end up living there one day, but I was in no hurry. Sirius died six years ago, and I was constantly stumbling upon things that reminded me of him - not to mention the headquarters of the Order, where every single object used to belong to him.

"Not this year," I replied.

"You will have to go there one day."

"In the meantime, I'm going to rent a flat."

Hermione gave me a reproachful look. She was convinced that I was acting childish, trying to avoid things. I was ready to compromise on many things, but not on the place where I was going to live.

"You're going to rent a flat? In the wizarding world? Harry, you know this isn't safe."

"Come on. I hardly have any enemies left."

"Hardly. You said that."

"Tell me honestly, Hermione, are you upset because you put so much effort in that house, and I still don't live there?" I asked, deciding to call the big guns. Ron chuckled and glanced at Hermione: she backed down immediately.

"Of course I'm not upset, Harry. Live where you please! But for Merlin's sake, be careful."

"I don't know what you're afraid of," I shrugged.

"Harry!"

"Okay, okay. I'll rent a place in a Muggle area."

Ron opened his mouth to share his doubts concerning this decision, but Hermione was faster:

"Great! Just make sure to get the Flu network."

"Deal."

"That's it, I've had enough of you two arguing!" exclaimed Ron. "I want to dance. Hermione?"

She smiled and put her hand in Ron's. I went back to the table with the drinks and ran into Seamus, who'd studied in the Auror Office with us.

"So, where are you going to work?" he asked.

"I was offered a job at the investigation department," I said. "What about you?"

"The Ministry? You sure were," he smiled. "Me… Ah, I don't know yet. Tonight I'm having fun!"

With these words he grabbed a girl nearby by the hand and disappeared in the dancing crowd with her. I was getting ready to spend the night alone, as a cute blond girl emerged by my side.

"Wanna dance?" she asked with no hint of shyness. I gave her a long glance.

"Why not."

I left my drink on the table, put an arm around my new acquaintance and headed to the dancefloor.

Ron was right: the party was a success. Even I – the guy who usually stays on the sidelines – had a lot of fun. We drank a lot, danced a lot and laughed a lot. However, in the morning my head felt like it was going to explode, and I had a hard time finding the hangover potion, but I couldn't deny that it was a great graduation party. Despite my concerns, yesterday's blondie didn't ask for a way to contact me again. I felt incredibly lucky: usually girls tend to get their hopes high, and the fact that I'm a national hero doesn't really help. But again, yesterday, everything was perfect: the music, the drinks, the cute girl by my side…

I only managed to collect myself in the evening. That's when I realised: I had to move out of the dorm tomorrow, and still hadn't found a new place to live. The mere image of Grimmauld place gave me a strong desire to sleep outside or to invite myself to Ron and Hermione's, who were about to move in together. Surely, I had to show up on Grimmauld place, 12 - otherwise that old rascal Kreacher was absolutely capable of thinking I'm dead and inviting some purebloods to the house to take my place – but I was determined to waste no more than ten minutes there. I promised myself to find a quick solution to my housing problem and got in the shower.

The next day I let Ron talk me into going to the mall with him and Hermione, because "she wanted to buy some stuff". I tried replying that if Hermione wanted to buy stuff, it was probably for their future flat, but Ron insisted:

"I don't care if it's a dress for her or shower curtains for our flat, Harry. I'm not doing this alone."

After three hours of strolling through different stores I started to get Ron's point. Clearly, Ron knew his girlfriend better than anyone else. Of course, Hermione had already bought a ton of useful stuff; Ron and I resembled pack-mules by now, but even I had to admit everything she had purchased was technically necessary.

"I had no idea that moving in together meant spending so much money," I noted.

Hermione shrugged. "It's easier to buy everything at once. I don't want to come back here twice a week."

Finally, the day came to an end, and we sat down for a drink in a nearby café.

"I've been offered a job at the law enforcement department and at the underage magic control department. I haven't decided yet," Hermione told us. "Harry, when do you start?"

"The day after tomorrow."

"Aren't you going to take a break?" asked Ron, surprised.

"I'm not really tired, the finals were easy," I said. In reality, I had no idea what to do during the so-called "break".

"You know better," he glanced at me suspiciously. He probably got it, but, thankfully, said nothing, because otherwise Hermione would have bombarded me with psychological advice for hours. I do love Hermione, but sometimes she's too helpful.

I stuck my head in a Muggle newspaper that I picked up in order to find a flat to rent, while Ron and Hermione went on discussing Ron's future job. What do we have here… A house in the suburbs – no, that's not what I want… A three bedroom – that's too much… There. The ad that captured my attention was for an available room in a flat in the centre of London. Maybe a room wasn't enough - but the flat was just a few miles away from the café, and I needed a place to stay as soon as possible. I decided I could always find something else later, but for now, a room would be fine. I said my goodbyes hastily, folded the paper and was on my way.

Soon I found myself in front of a long series of two-storey apartments, each with a separate porch. I found the one with the number 28 above it and knocked. I heard someone swear on the other side, and the voice sounded vaguely familiar. Finally the doorknob turned, and I found myself staring at the owner.

"Potter?" he asked in an irritated tone.