Rated G. The song Fitter by Radiohead is a brilliant paraody of modern life, moking those things many of us strive for and I suppose asking if there is something more. Thats my opinion of course, not to be taken as clear fact. I used the song as the paragraph headings, so those are the lines that belong to Radiohead and not me. J.K. Rowling owns the names, Don't bother flaming or reviewing, I don't check the e-mail account this is hooked up to ever.
Fitter
Every morning he would run around the castle for an hour. "No better way to start the day" he told the others jovially. He used to like to sleep in. . . but running was really much better.
Happier
He smiled all the time, at everyone. At first it was hard, but he realised soon that if you smiled all the time people started to smile back and he could only imagine that was because his smiles made them happy. They liked him better when he smiled and that made him feel better too.
More Productive
He managed to get all his teaching duties done without giving up any of the things he loved. He couldn't believe how much time he used to waste just sitting and thinking or wondering what to do next. A schedule was really for the best. Where did doing nothing ever get him? He even found after a time that Quidditch was philosophically dangerous. If he had work to do but went flying instead, a triumph on the pitch gave him a feeling of accomplishment. . . but nothing was accomplished. Not really.
Comfortable
He was safe and secure for the first time in his life. He had a home and job and there was no way they would ever fire him after saving the world from Voldermort. He had a place where he belonged and everything he'd ever wanted. He hadn't cried for two years and he almost forgot what it was to be afraid. Nothing bad ever happened anymore. Nothing.
Not drinking too much
Right after the war he had been despondent. There was a feeling of ennui that he couldn't explain. It was silly really, now that he thought back on those days. There was nothing else he needed in life. What did he have to be unhappy about? Nothing. So surely he was happy. Now he rarely drank at all. There was just no need.
Regular Exercise three days a week
He did push ups in the evening some days as well. At first he went for swims but then he realised how much time that waisted. He could do push ups and spell the students essays to read themselves to him at the same time. This way he could work on his health while he got school work done. It was much warmer inside his rooms anyway. Outside there was noise and people and too many distractions to get anything done. He felt terribly clever the first time he'd realised this was multi-tasking.
Getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries
Snape's Presence grated on his nerves at first. Every time the snarky man would open his mouth Harry found himself launching at the man, hands outstretched for that sallow neck that was just begging to be strangled. But Harry slowly lost the urge to fight him. The hurtful words washed over him in a wave and eventually Snape seemed to just disappear. He supposed this was what they called growing up. And it was good to not feel so angry all the time. He didn't remember the last time he'd been angry with anyone. And when he realised he no longer felt anger or fear anymore, ever, he felt even more comfortable.
At Ease
He read allot. He'd started making silly little jokes that only Hermoine understood. His growing up had decreased the standard deviation of his emotions. No more extremes in so many negative areas. He just hoped he wasn't the unfortunate bearer of a normal distribution. He liked to think he was right skewed. He got uncomfortable when he thought that maybe his mean value for x was the same as z. His average emotion wasn't zero was it? No...
He didn't think about maths after that. Statistics could hardly be a fair metaphor of his emotional status. He'd clearly been reading too many books.
Eating Well
Breakfast, lunch and Dinner. Never a snack in between, they really weren't good for him. He didn't even crave them after a while. And he always made sure to eat more vegetables then meat at each meal. The potato bake took the longest to stop missing. But there was just no way to justify all that sour cream. Besides, potato bake could only be condoned at 'dinner' and it was bad to eat potato so late in the day. He told Snape so just last week, absently forgetting who the owner of that hand passing the dish was. The scowl on Snapes face at having to pass anything to him was replaced quickly by astonishment. Harry almost felt. . . something, at that look. But he quickly quelled it incase it turned out to be anger.
Patient
He let all his fans write to him and he actually wrote back. Just little thank you cards. He thought it was rude to just ignore people, and being a teacher had taught him that it was easier to just nod and smile and agree then to walk away and snap because you where busy. With all the extra time - now that he didn't go to visit Hermoine and Ron any more - it was easily done. Just a few words. It made people happy and he liked to do that for them. there where so many people who really cared about him.
Sleeping well
He had to take a draft for the first few months after the war, but he was an alarm clock embodied now. He fell asleep promptly at 10.00pm, an hour he'd have found ghastly early before the war. He got up at 6am for his run without any prompting.
No bad dreams
It was nice to not fear sleep. He just stopped dreaming one day and he could only think of it as a blessing.
No Paranoia
No one was out to get him. No one hated him. There were no plots and he often found himself wondering if he'd imagined the intricacies of his childhood. Perhaps he and Ron and Hermoine had made some of it up their heads. It seemed impossible for so many things to happed to a person and then for it to all suddenly stop.
Not in love
He had stopped all carnal activities. He really didn't want someone else in his life. He'd seen it a million times around him. People went crazy! He didn't want the baggage people carried around with them.
He was perfectly happy as he was anyway.
Concerned but powerless
He read the news and made the appropriate noises. It was another world really. He felt sorry for the people out there. Killing each other and going to court. Married people divorcing and screaming about infidelity. Attacks, attacks, attacks. The paper was full of it. It was clear these people needed to be a little more like him and a little less 'emotional'.
Calm, fitter, healthier and more productive. Kept in a cage on antibiotics.
He didn't know how Snape knew what antibiotics where, How he knew that Harry had started to notice the filth that clung to his skin when he was in the class room just near the children, or how he knew Harry was taking just a few calming potions when his nerves started up. When the butterflies started their attack on his stomach because he'd thought about the future or dying alone in his room. Silly fears. Where would he rather dies then in his rooms, comfortable and peaceful? He didn't know why Snapes comment cut so deep, and he couldn't remember the last time anything had made him feel. . . well anything. That small rush of emotion warmed him like a lighter in a snow storm. He wanted more. Just a little bit of pain to make him feel something. . .
Fitter
Every morning he would run around the castle for an hour. "No better way to start the day" he told the others jovially. He used to like to sleep in. . . but running was really much better.
Happier
He smiled all the time, at everyone. At first it was hard, but he realised soon that if you smiled all the time people started to smile back and he could only imagine that was because his smiles made them happy. They liked him better when he smiled and that made him feel better too.
More Productive
He managed to get all his teaching duties done without giving up any of the things he loved. He couldn't believe how much time he used to waste just sitting and thinking or wondering what to do next. A schedule was really for the best. Where did doing nothing ever get him? He even found after a time that Quidditch was philosophically dangerous. If he had work to do but went flying instead, a triumph on the pitch gave him a feeling of accomplishment. . . but nothing was accomplished. Not really.
Comfortable
He was safe and secure for the first time in his life. He had a home and job and there was no way they would ever fire him after saving the world from Voldermort. He had a place where he belonged and everything he'd ever wanted. He hadn't cried for two years and he almost forgot what it was to be afraid. Nothing bad ever happened anymore. Nothing.
Not drinking too much
Right after the war he had been despondent. There was a feeling of ennui that he couldn't explain. It was silly really, now that he thought back on those days. There was nothing else he needed in life. What did he have to be unhappy about? Nothing. So surely he was happy. Now he rarely drank at all. There was just no need.
Regular Exercise three days a week
He did push ups in the evening some days as well. At first he went for swims but then he realised how much time that waisted. He could do push ups and spell the students essays to read themselves to him at the same time. This way he could work on his health while he got school work done. It was much warmer inside his rooms anyway. Outside there was noise and people and too many distractions to get anything done. He felt terribly clever the first time he'd realised this was multi-tasking.
Getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries
Snape's Presence grated on his nerves at first. Every time the snarky man would open his mouth Harry found himself launching at the man, hands outstretched for that sallow neck that was just begging to be strangled. But Harry slowly lost the urge to fight him. The hurtful words washed over him in a wave and eventually Snape seemed to just disappear. He supposed this was what they called growing up. And it was good to not feel so angry all the time. He didn't remember the last time he'd been angry with anyone. And when he realised he no longer felt anger or fear anymore, ever, he felt even more comfortable.
At Ease
He read allot. He'd started making silly little jokes that only Hermoine understood. His growing up had decreased the standard deviation of his emotions. No more extremes in so many negative areas. He just hoped he wasn't the unfortunate bearer of a normal distribution. He liked to think he was right skewed. He got uncomfortable when he thought that maybe his mean value for x was the same as z. His average emotion wasn't zero was it? No...
He didn't think about maths after that. Statistics could hardly be a fair metaphor of his emotional status. He'd clearly been reading too many books.
Eating Well
Breakfast, lunch and Dinner. Never a snack in between, they really weren't good for him. He didn't even crave them after a while. And he always made sure to eat more vegetables then meat at each meal. The potato bake took the longest to stop missing. But there was just no way to justify all that sour cream. Besides, potato bake could only be condoned at 'dinner' and it was bad to eat potato so late in the day. He told Snape so just last week, absently forgetting who the owner of that hand passing the dish was. The scowl on Snapes face at having to pass anything to him was replaced quickly by astonishment. Harry almost felt. . . something, at that look. But he quickly quelled it incase it turned out to be anger.
Patient
He let all his fans write to him and he actually wrote back. Just little thank you cards. He thought it was rude to just ignore people, and being a teacher had taught him that it was easier to just nod and smile and agree then to walk away and snap because you where busy. With all the extra time - now that he didn't go to visit Hermoine and Ron any more - it was easily done. Just a few words. It made people happy and he liked to do that for them. there where so many people who really cared about him.
Sleeping well
He had to take a draft for the first few months after the war, but he was an alarm clock embodied now. He fell asleep promptly at 10.00pm, an hour he'd have found ghastly early before the war. He got up at 6am for his run without any prompting.
No bad dreams
It was nice to not fear sleep. He just stopped dreaming one day and he could only think of it as a blessing.
No Paranoia
No one was out to get him. No one hated him. There were no plots and he often found himself wondering if he'd imagined the intricacies of his childhood. Perhaps he and Ron and Hermoine had made some of it up their heads. It seemed impossible for so many things to happed to a person and then for it to all suddenly stop.
Not in love
He had stopped all carnal activities. He really didn't want someone else in his life. He'd seen it a million times around him. People went crazy! He didn't want the baggage people carried around with them.
He was perfectly happy as he was anyway.
Concerned but powerless
He read the news and made the appropriate noises. It was another world really. He felt sorry for the people out there. Killing each other and going to court. Married people divorcing and screaming about infidelity. Attacks, attacks, attacks. The paper was full of it. It was clear these people needed to be a little more like him and a little less 'emotional'.
Calm, fitter, healthier and more productive. Kept in a cage on antibiotics.
He didn't know how Snape knew what antibiotics where, How he knew that Harry had started to notice the filth that clung to his skin when he was in the class room just near the children, or how he knew Harry was taking just a few calming potions when his nerves started up. When the butterflies started their attack on his stomach because he'd thought about the future or dying alone in his room. Silly fears. Where would he rather dies then in his rooms, comfortable and peaceful? He didn't know why Snapes comment cut so deep, and he couldn't remember the last time anything had made him feel. . . well anything. That small rush of emotion warmed him like a lighter in a snow storm. He wanted more. Just a little bit of pain to make him feel something. . .