I own nothing. I'm even living on borrowed time. J.K.R. owns the characters, I own the therapy.

I'm not evil, just misunderstood
It couldn't have been a nicer day to be abducted. The sun was shining, the clouds were fluffy and Harry Potter was walking carelessly through the busy streets of London with nary an inkling of the horror about to befall him.
Harry had been trained as an auror right out of Hogwarts and was, at 21, one of the familiar faces at the ministry. Harry was very happy in his life with the routine of it- He got up, had breakfast, apparated to the Ministry, investigated a few reports, had a late lunch with Hermione and Ron at the Leaky Cauldron, did some paperwork, have dinner, and go home to sleep. Sure, there were the occasional big jobs that required him to be gone a while and once every so often Voldemort did something or Snuffles visited; but, on the whole, life was very calm for the young wizard. Oh well.