A/N: You'd think spending so much time inside that I might have gotten more writing done... But alas, it wasnt to be. Enjoy!

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Dark as Night

He might have drifted off but his mind wouldn't sit still, wouldn't relax. Something in his chest struggled to come to terms with what had happened that evening. Though it did remind him vividly of a conversation he'd had with Viktor...

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*Flashback*

Roughly One Year Ago.

Harry knocked on the quite enormous door to an apartment in Inner-City Sofia. He huddled close to the door to avoid the rain as his impervious clothes could only protect him so much. After a few moments the door opened to reveal a large surly character. "Hi Viktor."

"Ah, Harry. It is good to see you, come in." He stepped back to allow the dripping wizard in.

Viktor seemed to find his plight amusing. "Hoff course the von time you visit, it is raining." Harry grimaced as Viktor lead the way deeper into the apartment. Once they were seated on two couches that sat adjacent to one another he handed Harry a shot glass and filled it with something clear. "Drink, for the cold." Harry did and felt the now familiar burning in his throat, but he didn't cough. The Bulgarian raised and eyebrow but made no comment.

"That hits the spot, what is it?"

Viktor waved a hand. "Ah, this is just vodka." He tossed a shot down himself before continuing. "Now, vot brings you here Harry? Voldemort was killed yes?"

Harry nearly laughed. "Well yes, that's why I'm in Europe. I'm mostly travelling around studying for my NEWTS. One of the tutors lives here. "

The surliness across from him gave way to confusion. "vhy are you not studying at Hogwarts? It is a comfortable castle."

"Err, I killed him there. And... I had a falling out with a close friend."

"You vought with Weasley?"

"No."

"Vith Herm-own-ninny?"

He struggled to answer straight away. "Yes."

"Vhy?"

Harry shrugged. "Why did you ask her to the Ball?"

Viktor looked a tad surprised at the wild change in conversation but then shrugged. "She vos very pretty and vas not following me around. She only followed you around."

Harry didn't know what to make of that so he didn't question it. "Oh. What are you doing now?

Viktor blinked again. "Job?" Harry nodded, "I play Quidditch in the European League. You could fly vor any of those clubs if you want to."

Harry was surprised by this. "Really?"

"Of course, you are a very good flier. You could play for any team in the vorld if you can out fly a dragon."

Harry chuckled. "I'll think about it."

Nearly an hour later he bid Viktor goodbye walked down the street with the rain easing up. His feet leading to a bar he'd come to frequent while living here, with his Arithmancy homework done he had little else to do. His catch up with Viktor had brought her up again. He wasn't sure what made him ask about the Ball. Although he grumbled, if I'm not dreaming about the battle or Malfoy Manor, I'm dreaming about her. It had been a month since he left England quietly, and he was only just starting to adjust to living on his own. While his independent streak still remained, living without his friends close by was taking a while to get used to. As he didn't do much else apart from study, he was progressing well and just about to wrap up with his Arithmancy Tutor. Surprisingly he'd found that being Harry Potter, usually overcomes any language barrier which was helpful to say the least. He would have wondered if Hermione knew much French after her holiday there, but he tried to keep his mind off her during waking hours. He dreamt about her enough while he slept.

He had no nightmares since Voldemort had died, just the horrible dreams of things he'd lived through. Once he found drinking helped to lessen the dreams he started drinking regularly. The up shot of this was that he'd found bars to be a good place to learn about a new country or area. After another fifteen minutes of strolling he found his favourite hangout in Sofia, the smell of tobacco and alcohol assaulted his nose as he pushed open the door.

He made his way through the slight haze of smoke the seemed to permanently hang in the air at this bar, to the stool that was now reserved for him. He'd barely sat down before the bartender nodded at him and slid a Bacardi Double to him. The efficiency and little fuss about muggle bars was his get-away, language barrier be damned. Silent communication had always been his forte, though there wasn't many that could understand that about him. Except for one person. No, not now. Distract yourself Potter. He took a sip and studied his fellow patrons, wondering if any were magicals.

Not that he thought that anyone would recognise him, with his longish hair and permanent nine o'clock shadow that he kept purely because it was easier. Shaving the muggle way felt too laborious, but shaving via magic scared him. The females he'd met didn't seem to mind at any rate, though his silent communication skills were rendered nought when getting to know a girl who didn't know English. Not that he cared too much about that, it wasn't important, he had a goal. And it deserved all his attention.

That's when he saw a bushy mane of hair enter the bar and move over to a booth filled with her friends. The sight sent a shiver down his spine. Just can't fucking get away cant I? He drained his glass, left some notes on the bar and quickly exited. The door banging behind him.

...

Harry bolted awake in bed, then regretted it as the room spun around him. His recurring dream about his fight with Hermione had visited him again, and her screams of being tortured at Malfoy Manor woke him up better then any alarm. Sighing he put his head back down and closed his eyes to shut out the spinning room. Why'd I think that seeing Viktor was a good idea? He was as smitten with her as I am-WAS. He amended forcefully. And for the thousandth time, he wondered why and how he'd convinced himself that and future with her was possible. Other than being lifelong friends of course. But isn't that what love is? Shouldn't they be both a friend and lover? Someone who puts your own wellbeing above their own? He realised his own thoughts highlighted the problem.

He knew what it felt like, but not how to articulate it, or even what it looked like. Due to his fame, not many wanted to know him properly, Hermione seemed to be his only option. The only one he trusted enough to be himself around, apart from Luna. But then she always had a knack for bringing out everyone's true self not matter how uncomfortable. Neville is a lucky man. Of course he did not plan on living like a hermit between Tutors. Every country he visited was like a breath of fresh air. There would always be someone who recognised him, much to his chagrin. But people in Europe seemed to be more curious than anything, as Voldemort was more of a news story here than in Britain.

A surprising fact about Europe was that more than once, he'd attracted the advances of quite a few women, witches and muggles alike. Though that was a part of his life that didn't end up in his letters to Andi or Neville. Even Ron didn't know everything he got up to, that irked him. He hated having to hold back in his letters to what was once his best friend, not that he was really sure why he held back. Either way, those interactions would help him forget, even if for a brief time. The time spent already and the time he would spend until his return home felt to him like preparation. Preparation for a life without Hermione in it, there was no doubt in his mind of that. He'd replayed it over and over, the look on her face had said it all. How he'd manipulated his friends, though for the life of him. He couldn't figure out what made him have sex with Ginny, he did drink quite a lot that night, though that wasn't an excuse.

To know that he wasn't in control of his own actions scared him, if that could happen then what else? He could have spilled his darkest secrets of his first eleven years of life, that would not do. No one would ever know, he would take them to the grave. No one wanted to hear about that part of the life of Harry Potter. Of course this preparation included seeing other women, learning how to flirt and building his confidence in human integration. He'd learnt more about himself, how he preferred bars to clubs, how many different way he could have coffee. Just how well he could study when given the right motivation, he learnt about his finances in regular letters with Gringotts. He would even dare to presume he was on very good terms with his Accounts Manager Talongrey. But here he was, woken by the same dream feeling very much like things hadn't changed one bit.

"Lumos," The wand on his bedside table flared with light and he studied Fabian's now ticking watch, it read six forty-three am. Well he assumed it was am, because he was at Viktor's the last time the watch-face had shown that time. A wave of his wand opened to curtains of the enormous window of his room, he could see the beginning's of a sunrise over the roof's of the low-rise city that sprawled outside. Leaving his wand on the bed he stauntered into the kitchen and turned on the percolator, for a place to live he quite liked this loft apartment. Large ornate windows gave him another view of the city outside, and windows on the slanted roof let in the first vestiges of warmth from the sunrise.

While his coffee warmed up he went through the motions of making toast, staring at the calendar on the wall while the toaster did its work. In another week he would be moving to France, Toulouse in fact where he would be working on Charms. It was a shame actually, he missed Professor Flitwick. And in a way he missed Hogwarts too, this made him think of a certain bushy-haired witch was could very well be in Charms today in fact. Before his sleep addled brain continued down this line of thought the toaster regurgitated his bread, now light toasted. He set about covering the slices in jam while the, coffee bubbled behind him.

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*End Flashback*

"Lumos," The wand tip flared and he checked the time on the same watch. Two am. Fuck. Andi had made him realise just how wrong he was, he hoped. It was about time he visited the Grangers again, he still hadn't given them the house yet as he never got around to it. And he would readily admit that he liked them both and respected them greatly. "Nox," The room was plunged into darkness as Harry lay back, willing himself back to sleep once more.

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