Harry Potter was sitting with his friend, Ron Weasly at a small table in the very loud, obnoxious and young wizard's club, Centaurius. Harry was sipping slowly on a firewhiskey that had been diluted somewhat in butterbeer. Ron was just having the butterbeer. "The wife would kill me." He muttered in explanation.

Harry snorted. Then, in response to Ron's questioning look he explained, "Is that what you're calling Hermione now? 'The Wife'?"

Ron even had to laugh at that. Ron and Hermione had gotten married not long after graduation from Hogwarts. Ron was now playing Quidditch for the Chudley Cannons and making such a large amount of galleons that Hermione was able to live her dream of taking her S.P.E.W. farther than she'd ever dreamed. That wasn't what Hermione had decided to do though. She was working for the Order, doing research work and stuff.

Harry had bought a little two-story house in Grimmauld Square. It had loads of windows and Hermione was decorating it for him in her spare time. Sirius had willed his family mansion to Harry, but the very idea of living in that house, where Sirius had lived, and been loathed, made him nauseous. He had just passed auror school and tomorrow was his first day on the job.. Draco Malfoy had also passed his tests. So had an older girl who was incredibly smart, and she was a metamorphomagus. This meant she had the ability to change her appearance at will.

Ron said he had to go, left some money on the table and apparated home. Harry paid the tab at his table and moved to a stool at the bar by a gorgeous blonde witch with blue eyes he had been eyeing all night. "Hey," he said as he sat down beside her. "Hi," she said sort of shyly, "I noticed that you were sitting with the keeper for the Cannons. Are you a fan?" she asked.

Harry nodded, and the launched into a discussion about quidditch teams. She was a huge fan of Viktor Krum and his Bulgarian international team. Harry smiled, "Really? Ron, that's the guy I was sitting with, well his wife dated Viktor for a time when we were in our fourth year at Hogwarts, and he was in his seventh at Durmstrang."

"So you were at Hogwarts for the Triwizard tournament? I graduated the year before that. Did you hear about that Harry Potter kid? Oh, never mind of course you did, you went to school with the nutter."

Now would have been when Harry would have nervously flattened his hair but he had, for the night only, put a simple spell on his hair, making it lie flat over his scar, and almost everywhere else. This made him look a bit like his once handsome godfather Sirius Black, and also hid his scar. Harry heard an icy cool voice behind him come up and say, "Know him? Well of course he knew him, he's Harry Potter himself."

Draco Malfoy said, before leaning close to Harry's ear and whispering, "Great isn't it? Being famous and all?"

The blonde looked disgustedly at him. Harry paid his tab and crossed over to a fireplace in the corner of the room. He tossed a bit of Floo powder into it and said, "Number 4 Grimmauld Place." His last view of the club was of Draco, already snogging with the girl he'd met only minutes ago.

Once in his small home he headed for the mirror in his bathroom. He took the spell out of his hair and watched it settle into its usual untidy mess. He looked at himself: messy black hair, electric green, almond shaped eyes, a scruffy beard, and of course, the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. This wasn't what he'd wanted when he'd left school. He'd wanted to be a roving auror. Just like the brochure showed, handsome, wanted, strong, and with a girl calling him for every night of the week. Harry sighed. Tomorrow would be a big day. It was his first day on the job.