1.

Harry made his final strokes on the last test of the first stack of papers in front of him and graded it.

The class performance had been worse than he had expected and he made a mental note to re-explain the topic. Perhaps give them a more practical explanation. Though, he partially lamented the idea of bringing cornish pixies into his classroom.

Then again-

He tried to suppress the smirk that grew on his lips. His mind played the commotion from his second year in hogwarts. He remembered the sheer shock and embarrassment on Neville's face as he was raised aloft by the tiny blue creatures.

Harry waved his wand and the stack of pages fluttered onto the shelf for the second year sheets. His eyes burned from exhaustion and the pain was partially relieved when he removed his glasses to rub at them.

When he was finished, his eyes settled on the unmarked werewolf essays he had issued to the third years. Harry sighed deeply and urged his body to give him the strength to keep marking. Nothing came.

Harry settled his pen into its holder and pushed from his seat. He grabbed his robe and placed it over his arm. He walked from his office space, down the small stairs, and flicked his wand to close the windows and blinds. He made one last glance over the room to ensure everything was in order and then closed the door.

The castle air was cool against his skin. There was once a time, he would've gotten into trouble for being out of bed at the hour. A time where he relied on the marauders map to guide his every escapade. That time was long gone, much like the war.

Harry paused, he felt his throat tighten. It had been nine years since the death of Voldemort. Nine years since he truly began to live. Where he didn't have to peer over his shoulder, where he wasn't plagued by awful visions, where voices didn't ring in his ears and where his scar didn't burn.

Harry cleared his throat and fixed his glasses over the bridge of his nose. He walked quickly and quietly towards his chamber. The candles lit themselves when he entered and he was greeted by a pleasant warmth as the fireplace awakened on his entrance. Harry approached the window where he had created a slot for owls to arrive and he collected two envelopes. He smiled at the top letter, he'd recognise the haphazard handwriting anywhere. His fingers quickly tore into the envelope, scattering small parchment fragments on the ground. He waved his wand to the kettle to boil and poured himself a cup of tea. He settled in front of the fireplace and brought the letter close.

Hello Harry

It's me, I'm writing my first letter! How are you?

Guess what? I was able to make my face a duck! It was pretty funny, my friends thought so!

Grandma says one day I'll get a letter to hogwarts! Though I don't know when. Will you be my teacher? I suppose that'll be cool. Will I get a wand like yours?! I want one like yours!

Write me a letter back so I know you got this one and I'll write you one to let you know I got yours!

Teddy. (Grandma no!) It's Ted Lupin.

Harry chuckled quietly. He hadn't seen his godson in a while and admittedly, he missed the bubbly blue haired boy. He could almost picture him staring out of his window, waiting excitedly for his first owl. Harry settled the letter on the table, he was afraid he'd have to disappoint Teddy with the understanding that he would have to wait one more year before boarding the Hogwarts express.

Much like himself, Teddy was an orphan of war. Though, he had a grandmother who adored him instead of the Dursleys to torment him. Harry vowed he would be there for his godson in the way Sirius would have been there for him if he could've been.

A flash of green and Sirius' frozen smile flashed in his mind.

Harry suppressed the burning sensation in his eyes. Perhaps he needed to rest more than he cared to admit. He was grateful for the incoming weekend and would do his utmost to stay in bed.

After replying to Teddy, of course.

Harry settled the letter on his table and picked the second one. It was from Hermione.

Harry

Kingsley is still quite upset with you for refusing his offer. I still cannot believe you would do that! I thought you wanted to be an auror!

He has been nagging me to get you to see reason, so, Harry please see reason and come back as an auror. You are quite literally the best we have. Next to Ron- but- well he's Ron.

Also, if Kingsley asks, you tell him I already pleaded with you, or so help me.

Now that that's said, how are you, Harry?

We miss you. We miss our best friend.

Let's do breakfast, lunch, or dinner or whatever! I miss my friend.

With Love

Hermione

A weak smile crossed his face. After the war, Harry had taken up as an auror almost instantly, he and Ron hadn't had to go through the rigorous process of testing, after all, they had been the heroes of the battle. So naturally, they were deemed to possess the aptitude required of an auror. In reality, the ministry had been severely understaffed and needed whatever help they could get. In those eight years Harry spent fulfilling his position beside Ron while Hermione shadowed Kingsley, Harry gathered the remnants of Voldemorts army; he found those who spied for him, those who still believed in his ideology, those who worked closely with him, and all those who hid in the shadows.

He had felt pride in his work.

And then he didn't.

Kingsley called him into his office where he handed Harry a letter promoting him to head of department and Harry handed him his letter of resignation. Both men stared awkwardly at the other before Harry nodded stiffly and pointed haphazardly at the door.

Ron questioned whether Harry had lost his mind but after a reassuring shoulder pat from Harry, Ron ceased questioning his decision.

Hermione had thrown question after question for a long while, and Harry had been grateful for Ron's sarcastic interjection at every chance. Eventually, her tirade ceased and all was well.

Until he mentioned taking up as professor of defence against the dark arts. Ron's jaw unhinged while Hermione's eyes widened impossibly. At the time, he wondered if they thought he would have made such a terrible teacher.

Sleep came quickly for Harry, the sounds of crackling fire and soft wind lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

And when he woke, he was covered in sweat.