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Prologue
I hadn't ever meant it to go that far, but everything happened so quickly. One minute everyone was so happy: she was talking and laughing with me--celebrating the victory. Then he came in, and things got a little out of hand, and, well--here I am: on a bus headed to the depths of despair.
"Your stop, Mr.--" The bus driver, Jackson, said, leaning over the seat.
"Er, Davis," Harry said. Harry Potter had been driven out of his wonderful home in London England. After successfully becoming an auror and defeating the greatest Dark Lord ever known, an accident had happened, and he forced himself out of his home. No one could ever forgive him for what he'd done. Sure, everyone had always joked about doing it, but no one had ever actually done it. Harry thrust his hand into his pocket and took out some muggle money and handed it to the man. "Thank you."
Harry left the bus, dragging his rolling suitcase behind him. He didn't know where he was headed; nor did he care. All he knew was he had to get away. Away from everyone. It began to rain, so Harry went inside a nearby pub and sat near a window. The first thing he had to do was make up an identity. No one could recognize him--he would be a Muggle. Forever.
Harry thought carefully about his new name. His last name would be Davis, and his first, he decided, would be Aiden. Aiden Davis was his new name. Now all he needed was a face to match. He went into the bathroom, wand in his hand, and thought long and hard about what he should look like. With an image in his mind and closed eyes, Harry muttered, "disguiro," and opened his eyes. He looked in the mirror, and standing back was a brown-haired, blue-eyed, scar-free Aiden Davis. He exited the bathroom and noted that a few people were staring at him. He shrugged this off and sat back down at his table. Looking at the window, he noticed that the rain had stopped, so he left the pub in search of a place to stay over-night.
Harry, no, Aiden walked down the street, glancing around in hopes to find a hotel. He didn't see one, but he again saw many faces staring at him. He didn't know what was wrong with these Muggles, but soon he would be just like them, so he'd better get used to it.
Finally, after searching through Apple Vine, Oak Street, Laketon Avenue, and Shepherd Street, he found a comfortable-looking hotel on Stratford Road simply named the Stratford Hotel. He entered the hotel through automatic doors and made his way to the front desk, where he was given a key to room 318 on the third floor. Harry paid for the room and found the small elevator that took him to the third floor. Once he found the right hallway, he spotted room 318. He opened the door, after using the key, and saw the room he'd be staying in for however long it took. The walls were painted with a sick-looking yellow, with a wallpaper border near the ceiling with fishermen sitting in their boats, waiting to catch fish. There was a double bed against the wall, a small table in the corner, a small closet with an ironing board, a television, a telephone, and a small bathroom.
Aiden shoved his suitcase into the closet and sat on his bed, merely thinking on how his life would turn out. How would he survive? He needed a job. Not to say he was running out of money; in fact, he had enough to support an entire family as big as the Weasleys and never work for it. The fact was that Aiden wanted to keep occupied. He needed to focus his thoughts on something entirely different. He didn't want to think about Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys anymore. He had a new life now, and it didn't include any of them.