Harry slowly walked around the brightly lit display case full of hundreds of different styles of glasses.
"See anything you like?" Hermione asked, peering over his shoulder.
"What about these?" Harry asked, pointing to a pair of light-weight wire frames.
"Those are nice," Hermione agreed with a nod.
Colin joined them as the sales lady unlocked the case and handed them over to Harry to try on.
"Not quite right," Hermione muttered as Harry put them on and turned to face her.
Harry removed them and gave them back to the sales lady with a sigh.
"Wait," Colin exclaimed, grabbing Harry's wrist as he picked up his old glasses once more. "Have you ever thought about contacts?"
"I mentioned it, but he doesn't like the idea of touching his eyeball," Hermione explained.
"You should really consider it. It's a shame to hide such a beautiful eye-colour behind glasses," Colin said.
Hermione nodded in agreement.
Harry leaned forward and looked into the mirror on the counter, tilting his head from side to side as the expensive store lighting made his eyes sparkle like polished emeralds. He remembered Ron telling him back in first year that his favourite colour was green.
"Alright," Harry conceded, straightening up. "I'll try the contacts."
"Excellent." Colin beamed in satisfaction.
Harry emerged from the shop an hour later, his glasses in his pocket and a pair of contacts on his eyes. The rest of his supply of disposable contacts were going to be delivered to his home when they were ready.
"How do they feel?" Hermione asked as they walked.
"Strange," Harry answered, looking around. "Everything looks brighter, and cleaner."
"They must have updated your prescription, too. I'm sure it's changed since you were eleven."
"What next?" Colin asked.
"Supper," Harry immediately answered. "I'm starving."
The three had a nice, leisurely dinner; reminiscing about their days at Hogwarts. Harry was happy to talk about the old days, without having to discuss the final battle against Voldemort. He was tired of describing it over and over again to the pushy wizard reporters and nosy public who wouldn't leave him alone - which is why he now lived in the Muggle world, to get some peace and normalcy in his life.
"What do you want to do next?" Hermione asked as she licked the last of the chocolate mousse from her spoon.
"What else is there to do?" Colin asked, sipping his coffee.
"Not much, I guess." Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "Fred and George are coming over tonight to teach Harry how to dance."
"Fred and George Weasley?" Colin asked in surprise.
"During the day they run their joke shop, but at night they dance at a club called 'The Crush'."
"The Crush?" Colin repeated, raising a brow. "That's a gay wizarding club isn't it?"
"Yep, the twins dance on platforms, wearing little white shorts and skin sprinkled with glitter," Hermione giggled.
"Didn't know they had it in them," Colin said in amazement.
"Nobody did," Harry snorted. "Ron was so embarrassed."
"Until he found out he could get in for free." Hermione winked at Harry.
Just then someone approached their table, a man looking to be in his thirties and holding a paper napkin and pen.
"Are you Harry Potter?" he asked.
"Sorry, no," Harry lied.
"But I can see your scar," the man persisted, pointing openly at Harry's forehead.
Harry gripped the edge of the table and shoved his chair back angrily.
"Excuse me," he said to Colin and Hermione. "I'll meet you outside."
They nodded in sympathy as Harry stalked away, leaving the man standing there awkwardly; twisting the napkin in his hands.
Harry burst through the doors and stood on the sidewalk, letting the evening air cool his heated skin.
Fucking scar, he thought vehemently. What was a wizard doing eating in a Muggle restaurant anyway?
"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked as she and Colin joined him outside.
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"That's okay, it must get annoying," Colin sympathised.
"Are you ready to go home?" Hermione asked.
"There's one thing I want to do first," Harry said determinedly.
Colin and Hermione followed silently as Harry led them to a large shop a few blocks away.
"Theatrical Supplies?" Hermione read the store sign in confusion.
Harry nodded and pushed inside. The bell above the door tinkled pleasantly as they entered. Harry wandered over to the make-up area and looked around carefully, searching for something. He stopped by a sign that said 'prosthetics' and picked up a small plastic package.
"Cover scars with realistic skin prosthetics," Hermione read over his shoulder. "Oh Harry, don't you think that's a bit drastic?"
Harry just glared at her.
"Can I help you, hon?"
Harry looked up and saw a smiling, red-haired woman who reminded him strongly of Mrs Weasley.
"Er, yeah," Harry said, holding up the package.
"Let's try it on, shall we?" she said, taking it from Harry's hand and lifting the piece out of the case. "We have to make sure the skin tone matches."
"Where do you want it?" she asked, deftly applying some spirit gum to the back of it.
"Here." Harry lifted the hair off his forehead, revealing the lightening shaped scar.
The prosthetic felt cold as she applied it to his skin, patting it gently into place.
"Then a little powder to even out the edges," she instructed, brushing some make-up onto his forehead. "There - take a look."
Harry took the little hand-held mirror from her and gasped as he inspected his forehead. It looked completely smooth and unblemished.
Harry grinned at himself, feeling elated.
"Well, look at that." The lady smiled. "You've been hiding a beautiful smile there, Sunshine."
Harry glanced at Hermione and Colin's shocked faces.
"You look so different," Hermione finally said uncertainly.
"Perfect." Harry grinned.
"No one's going to recognize you," Colin added.
"That's the idea." Harry smiled, then turned to address the sales lady. "I'll take it."
"Would you like to wear it out, dear?" she asked.
"Yes, thanks."
Hermione and Colin shared a worried look as Harry paid for it and thanked the sales lady.
"Fred and George will be coming over soon," Hermione said, glancing at her watch as the three left the shop.
Colin drove them back to Harry's small flat and helped to bring all of his shopping bags inside.
"Thanks Colin!" Harry and Hermione called as he returned to his car.
"Let me know when you take Harry's new look out for a test drive, I would love to come along," he called back.
"Of course." Hermione smiled.
Harry and Hermione waved goodbye then went inside. They both flopped down onto Harry's couch in exhaustion.
"I wonder if perhaps you should get a new place," Hermione pondered aloud.
"Why?" Harry asked tiredly.
"You're doing so well now, you could afford to live in a more upscale neighbourhood."
"I'll think about it." Harry sighed, rubbing his temples.
The front doors suddenly banged open and Fred and George Weasley came jogging into the room excitedly, Fred carrying a small stack of cd's.
"I don't think I have the energy for this right now," Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands.
"I'll leave you to it." Hermione grinned, getting up to leave. "See you later, Harry."
Hermione waved and headed out the front door.
George inserted a disc into the cd player and a slow rock song filled the room.
"Come on, Harry," Fred urged, pulling Harry off the couch.
Fred and George began to slowly dance around Harry, placing their hands on his hips to guide him. Harry blushed in embarrassment, but tried to relax into it.
He started to loosen up as the music filled him. He closed his eyes to block everything else out, only concentrating on the music as he moved sensuously to the beat.
He began to feel like a different person; someone with a brand new expensive wardrobe, no scars or famous life story, and a new haircut. He let go of all his inhibitions and began to dance freely.
Harry smiled, feeling reborn and excited all at once. He no longer felt Fred and George's presence near him anymore, but continued to dance on his own. He felt like he had taken some wonderful drug and didn't open his eyes again until the music had stopped.
Fred and George were sitting on the couch, watching him with identical grins on their faces.
"It's always the quiet ones, eh, Fred?"
"Yep, the world is full of sexually repressed men who only need a little guidance from people like us to free them from their mundane lives."
"You wanna come and work with us at the club, Harry?" George asked.
"A virgin with a body of sin." Fred winked. "He'd make a fortune in tips."
"Uh, no thanks," Harry stammered, blushing furiously.
"Pity."
"Well, there's nothing we can teach you. You're a natural, just let yourself relax and don't think too much," George said.
"Let us know if you change your mind about the job at the club," Fred said, retrieving his cd's.
"You know, if playing professional Quidditch doesn't pan out," George added.
Harry waved goodbye and watched them leave. He gulped down a glass of water from the kitchen then headed down the hall to bed.
What a day, he thought as he crawled between the covers and promptly fell asleep.