This is a repost of my first Harry Potter story that wasn't necessarily abandoned, but was on the back burner. That was until recently. I was reading a Harry/Hermione story that started off strong, but has been kind of pissing me off lately for reasons I won't get into it other than that the slow burn was too damn slow and there was too much angst. I know both can be done well but I'm not particularly a fan of either. Either way, it motivated me to do a soft reboot, taking it in a slightly different direction. Hope you enjoy!


Harry sat in the heavy silence of 12 Grimmauld with nothing but his regrets and one of the few bottles Sirius hadn't gone through in his own isolation within the decrepit old home. His mind was a whirlwind of dark thoughts, the most prominent of which was the realization his current feelings of oppression and loneliness were what his godfather must have suffered through all those years in Azkaban, and then in the isolation within his own home.

A home now populated solely by a single wizard and his house-elf.

But his feelings weren't solely a result of the near darkness he found himself or the fact he would never see his godfather again as long as he lived. Though both were undoubtedly contributing factors, there was much more haunting him and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his anxiousness from overwhelming his every thoughts.

Memories of Fred, Tonks, Remus, and Siruis all weighed heavily on him. Friends and those he considered his family were forever gone. His final ties to his parents were severed irreparably upon the death of the final marauder, leaving Harry with so many questions left forever unanswered. So many stories left untold; the memories of James and Lily Potter forever stricken from existence, with only passing remarks from distant acquaintances remaining.

Harry no longer bothered to wipe the tears from his eyes as he continued to take occasional and reluctant swigs from the bottle now halved as his thoughts turned to his friends. Ron and Hermione; his brother in all but blood and the girl he now regretted labeling a sister.

At the time of his mistake, love was only a word with a definition he was aware of, but never personally experienced. The Dursley's only taught him of fear and paranoia. So when he found a girl who truly cared about him, who made him feel safe to be himself, he assumed that just because he didn't immediately lust after her, she had to be a sister to him.

Their time alone together on the run proved to change his mind when Harry couldn't keep his eyes off Hermione's everything. Her very presence the sole source of light in a world quickly becoming consumed by darkness. It was then he was able to understand just what she meant to him.

"Too bloody too late," Harry's words were more bitter than whatever it was he was drinking, though the drink itself was quickly loosing its taste but not its bite.

Hermione loved Ron and the idiot loved her back. And he loved them both too much to come in between their happiness.

It was one amongst many reasons why he was drinking alone on his weekend from Hogwarts with only Kreature lurking somewhere in the shadows to keep him company.

Harry didn't know when he fell asleep, only that when he woke up sometime later, it was to a spinning room and with a headache that immediately superseded all thoughts. The sun was rising outside and the bottle he had been drinking from was shattered at his feet. There was also something vile now staining his school dress shirt.

When he closed his eyes, both symptoms became that much worse.

Fortunately his house-elf hobbled into the room with his head down and a dull blue potion in his gnarled hands. "Kreature has a potion that'll help Master with his sickness," the grizzled old elf grumbled.

Harry accepted the potion and downed it in a single swig. Perhaps it was foolish to trust the Black's prejudice house-elf but after returning his favorite master's locket, Kreature had become just a little less spiteful.

"Thank you, Kreature," Harry said after wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The potion tasted like mint and grass; all together not the worse thing he'd ever downed and the effects were immediate.

The rate of which the room was spinning began to slow and the ache in his head began to subside.

"Master Sirius forced me to learn how to make 'em. Always needed 'em he did," Kreature groused, taking back the empty potion bottle. The way he addressed his former master was yet more proof the house elf was changing. "I also made breakfast for Master."

"It smells wonderful, Kreature," Harry smiled at his elf and how he seemed to straighten up at his words. "I'll just get cleaned up and then I'll eat."

"As you wish, Master."

Harry couldn't help but question what he was becoming as he guzzled down copious amounts of water from the bathroom sink, and then the shower head. The potion helped him greatly, but there was still a lingering sickness which twisted his stomach. And when he came down, he scarfed down his food in a very Weasley-like manner.

All together, Kreature's cooking was delicious but when it came to washing it down, he discovered all he had to drink was even more tap water and a jug of what, in the past, may have been orange juice. That's how Harry came to discover there wasn't much to drink in Sirius' home besides more alcohol and he'd sworn the stuff off until the next time he got caught up in his regrets.

That got him thinking.

As often as he stayed at Grimmauld, Harry figured he'd have to, at the very least, get it back into a habitable condition. That meant cleaning up and getting the fridge stocked. Because at the end of the day, it once belonged to his godfather, and now it belonged to him. And at the end of the year, it would be his only home.

Harry decided then that's exactly what he would do. That was after getting more sleep. He didn't have much else to do considering Hermione and Ron were spending time together with his family and the last thing he wanted to see was the two tiptoeing around one another as they fostered their relationship.

He was also without his own godson as baby Teddy and Andromeda were both away visiting extended family of their own.

Harry eyed the liquor cabinet, noting it might be something that also needed to be restocked very soon.

"Master, there is a patronus lingering in the yard," Kreature announced, breaking him away from his darkening thoughts.

For a brief instance, Harry allowed himself to grow excited at the idea of finding a swimming otter, only to be met with Kingsley's lynx instead.

"Greetings Harry. If you are not too busy today, I would like to discuss something of great importance with you. I'll be in my office all day. I look forward to seeing you soon," with its message relayed, the lynx dissipated into a fine mist.

Harry decided he would go see what Kingsley needed with him in case it was important. He voiced his decision to spend more time at the manor and left Kreature with orders to clean up and purchase whatever he deemed necessary to keep making his meals. On his way out, he almost thought to have seen the old house elf smile at his request.


He apparated outside the Ministry; the old building still bared the scars of war and was still under reconstruction.

On his way in people greeted him with a reverence he'd not experienced since his initial return to the Wizarding world what felt like a lifetime ago. Though uncomfortable, he tried to return everyone's acknowledgment, understanding they were grateful he'd finally put a stop to Voldemort.

Kingley greeted him with a firm handshake and a warm smile. He was one of the few in the Order who never treated him like a child but rather an equal, and it was something Harry greatly appreciated.

"How are you doing today, Harry? I hope I didn't interrupt anything too important?" Kingsley said, retaking his place behind his desk.

"I'm fine, thank you. And no you didn't. I was just cleaning up around the house. Figured I need to if I'm going to be staying there from now on," Harry said.

"Are you perhaps speaking of 12 Grimmauld Place?" Kingsley asked, intrigued.

"Yes. The goblins sent me a letter informing me of what Sirius left for me," Harry smiled despite the heaviness in his heart. "The house is one of those things."

Kingsley looked pleased by the news. "Taking up in the Black estate, I see? Sirius, loathe the place as he did, would have been happy knowing you're making use of it now. Tell me, have you visited the library yet? I hear it's quite extensive, though Sirius never allowed anyone of us to use it."

Harry didn't want to admit the only thing he'd made use of thus far was the liquor cabinet. He and Kingsley weren't that close. Hermione was the only person with that distinction but he wouldn't be telling her either, for both their sakes.

"Not quite. I've only recently started staying there on my weekends away from Hogwarts, but I do intend on doing so eventually," and that much was true.

Hermione once mentioned the wealth of knowledge that must exist within the Black's personal library. Knowledge he could have made use of to defend themselves with during their hunt for the horcruxes. It was one of his any regrets; having not taken his responsibilities more serious.

If he was stronger, then perhaps they wouldn't have lost so many people.

"That is good to hear. Now, Harry, as for the reason I called you here," Kingsley said and the levity of the room was gone in an instant.

"I'm listening," Harry said.

"As you may well know, many Death-Eaters were either killed or captured at the battle of Hogwarts. But there are still far too many out there that must be captured so they may face judgment," Kingsley began but did not continue.

"I suppose you want me to go after them?" Harry concluded apprehensively.

"Yes, but you obviously would not be alone in doing so. Now, I cannot spare too many of my aurors to this task for the sad and simple fact that many were lost in the war. We are rebuilding but it'll be some time before we're at full strength again. Nevertheless, Harry, you will have the leadership and guidance from one of our best," Kingsley was looking over his shoulder as he finished speaking.

Harry looked behind him to see someone he hadn't in some time. Someone he never expected to ever see again. "Madam Bones? But I thought — "

"That I was dead?" Amelia Bones finished with something of a smile. "That, my dear boy, was the plan."

"There were those among us who believed both you and Dumbledore early on," Kingsley continued. "Madam Bones was a voice of reason in a quickly degrading ministry. With Voldemort's return and the rising in power and positions of his Death-Eaters, Dumbledore realized it would only be a matter of time before they began targeting people like her."

"Where were you all this time?" Harry asked, realizing too late just how accusatory the question sounded.

"Certainly not sitting idly by, if that's what you're thinking," Amelia's nose rose. "I imagine you're familiar with the concept of prolonged Polyjuice use? I've always been around in whatever capacity was required of me."

Harry thought of Barty Crouch Jr and his impersonation of Alastor Moody. "Well okay then, but why me exactly?"

Kingsley and Amelia both looked at him as though he'd just asked a very stupid question.

"I was under the impression you wanted to become an auror?" Kingsley stated.

He did at one point in time, but that was before he knew what that entailed. While he was out in the woods with Hermione, all he could think about was ending the war so they could both live a life devoid of such harrowing conflict.

But she was with Ron now and Harry couldn't see himself living the life of a carefree teenager. That period in his life had come, was brief, and was now gone. He had other friends but life moved on and after they all graduated they were likely to branch off into their own lives. Hermione and Ron would no doubt move on without him and Teddy and Andromeda wouldn't truly be safe until the death eaters were taken care of.

Harry found he was already convincing himself but he still had his reservations. "Well yes but what about Hogwarts?" He asked.

If he was being honest with himself, there was very little at Hogwarts beyond his friends he cared for anymore. Though he'd only been away for less than a year, it felt like a lifetime. He never truly felt at peace within the castle anymore and none of the classes truly interested him.

"You'd still be attending, of course. I've got my more experienced aurors doing the day to day like conducting investigations and following leads," Amelia explained. "But what we really need right now are experienced duelers. This is to make sure we lose no one else to the Death-Eaters when it comes time to actually take them in."

"But I'm not not that good," Harry said shook his head, feeling a surge of frustration. "Yes, I technically defeated Voldemort, but it wasn't because I was a skilled dueler. He could have out dueled me very easily."

"Well of course," Amelia stated far too casually for someone trying to convince him. "Nobody short of Dumbledore could hold their own against Voldemort, but you have the foundations of a great auror, Mr Potter. That's what's important."

"Harry, with very little actual combative training, you were able to hold your own against Death-Eaters that were no lowly henchmen. Not to mention you survived on your own for a long time. You posses a great natural ability and magical power," Kingsley continued with a proud smile. "Dumbledore could see your potential and so can we. You are powerful. You simply lack refinement."

Harry felt himself warm at their praises. "I wouldn't say that, and I always had help from my friends."

"Humble as well," Amelia hummed and then smiled. "How well are you acquainted with my niece, Susan?"

He didn't know Madam Bones was capable of smiling or being so forward. Yes, Harry thought Susan was indeed very pretty, but she and Neville appeared to be getting close and he didn't want to think about relationships at the moment.

"What about training?" He attempted to change the direction of the conversation. "I know I'm pretty good at defense, but I imagine there's more to hunting Death-Eaters than just that."

"I already have someone in mind to train and teach you what you need to know," Amelia said, crossing her arms. The smile from before was gone. "I will not lie to you, Harry. Should you accept, you'll have little in the way of free time. When you aren't on missions and you're not in school, we'll be training you."

Harry wouldn't exactly consider that an impediment. It would give him a purpose and he would be making the world a safer place for Hermione, his godson, and everyone else he cared for.

Still, he wasn't entirely convinced.

"Do you mind If I think about it?" Harry looked between the two. "Don't get me wrong, I am very much interested, but it is a big commitment.

They shared a look and a nod.

"We understand," Kingsley nodded.

"Just don't take too long to decide," Amelia added. "Our first mission is to take place soon and I'd like to see what you're capable of."

"Thank you. I'll send my patronus with an answer as soon as I have it," Harry said.

His eating with Amelia and Kingsley concluded shortly after going over a few more details regarding his proposed task. The idea was to parlay his assignment into a full tie career as an auror and they went into further detail about what departments were available to him should he decide to join.

Harry felt Sirius' absence heavily upon his return back home. He wanted someone to consult with and though he was certain what his godfather's answer, he really would have liked to be able to ask him personally.

As if he needed another reason to accept; his godfather would have still been with him if not for the Death Eaters.

Harry decided he would ask his friends the following day for their opinion, though he could already predict their responses.


"Absolutely not!" Hermione all but shouted.

Those few in the Gryffindor common room stopped what they were doing to stare. Harry wished he'd chosen a more secluded area to break the news.

Ron, who was seated next to Hermione, looked awfully pensive at the news.

"Harry you can't! It's too dangerous! Tell him, Ron!" Hermione demanded.

"Hermione, we both know there's nothing either of us can do or say that'll change Harry's mind once he's made it," Ron said following a particularly long sigh. He shot him a terse look. "Because you've already decided, haven't you, mate?"

Harry barely processed what he said as he tried his best to ignore the way Ron's hand rested on her thigh. It was becoming increasingly difficult to feel happy for his friends when their closeness made his chest tighten.

"Well he's not made up his mind if he's asking us about it!" Hermione was on her feet, pacing. "I mean really, Harry. The war is over and we now have a semblance of peace, and the first thing you want to do is jump back into danger? Are you that bored? Have you nothing better to do?"

Her words surprised, wounded, and angered Harry, in that succession and in an instant.

"Is that really what you think of me? That I would do this for fun?" Harry was also on his feet knowing emotion was clouding his judgment, but he wasn't about to allow that realization stop what he had to say next. "I'm doing this for you, Hermione! For you, Teddy, and for everyone who's important to me! There are Death-Eaters still out there and someone has to stop them!"

There was surprise and tears in her beautiful eyes. "Harry, I — but why does it always have to be you?"

Harry only shrugged, feeling nihilistic as he regarded the girl he was too late to love. "Because what do I have left to lose?"

That was the wrong thing to say.

Hermione struck him across the face.

Everything grew incredibly quiet and time seemed to crawl as she glared at him with an expression he'd never before witnessed on her before. She looked both hurt and incredibly angry at him. More angry than he'd ever seen her.

Harry palmed his hot cheek. It didn't hurt, he was simply struggling to understand why Hermione of all people had just struck him. Of course he knew why, but some part of him simply couldn't process the fact the girl he loved had grown angry enough at him to physically lash out at him; something she never did.

"Hermione, I — "

Hermione didn't allow him to continue. She rushed out of the common room, but not before throwing him a final, tearful glare from over her shoulder.

"You really stepped in it this time, mate," Ron commented angrily before going after her.

Harry could tell Ron was angry at him too but in that moment, he couldn't find it in himself to care. He'd anticipated some resistance from his friends, but never to be insulted or attacked. And for the first time in their friendship, he felt as though he was the one being left behind.

Seeing them together only cemented the fact he needed something to occupy himself with until he could get over his feelings. Even if that something was hunting for dark wizards.

He sent Kingsley a patronus with his answer immediately after.


The next day didn't bring any resolutions.

Hermione remained absolutely livid and didn't so much as look in his direction. Harry himself didn't have it in him to do the same simply because he was tired of arguing with his friends. He would wait until she cooled down and then he would apologize for being honest.

Of course he wouldn't voice it in such a way. He wasn't entirely ignorant to Hermione's reaction. After a restless night's sleep to cool off, Harry realized her reaction was because she cared and worried about him, and that made him love her even more.

But it was that she caring attitude that made it even more difficult to move past his biggest oversight. Harry wasn't sure she would have ever seen him as more than a friend had he realized his own feelings sooner, but he couldn't help but to detrimentally believe so.

He had spent his free period in the quidditch fields, laying on his broom, floating well above the pitch staring at the clouds and day-dreaming about what it would have been like to have been the one to ask Hermione to the Yule-Ball. His leisure time was interrupted by a nervous Ravenclaw prefect who informed him he had been summoned to Headmistress McGonagall's office.

Harry was beckoned inside and took a moment to take in the changes to the office that once belonged to Dumbledore.

He'd been inside a few times since McGonagall's ascension to the post, but it had been barren then, with the exception of the paintings of the previous generations of leadership. Dumbledore himself was now among them and though he smiled at him upon his arrival, there was no recognition in his eyes.

Behind her desk were books brimming the shelves, many of which appeared to regard the Headmistress' previous specialty, transfigurations. There was little beyond that and a picture faced away from him which personalized the office. But then again, he never figured McGonagall to be a sentimental woman.

Speaking of the Headmistress, she simply observed him, as if expecting something from him, but said nothing otherwise.

"You called for me, Headmistress?" Harry began when it became apparent she would not.

"I received a most interesting owl from the Minister of Magic this morning. Is there perhaps something you wish to tell me, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked with the same tone she used to take when lecturing him as both his professor and Head of House.

"Nothing you probably don't already know, Headmistress," Harry said.

"That is not an answer, Mr. Potter, because all I know is you intend on joining the aurors in capturing any remaining Death-Eaters, all while somehow managing to attend your classes and keeping up with your studies," McGonagall managed to relay his intentions in a way that made them sound very foolish. "What I'm not quite sure of is why you decided to do so when you should be enjoying the peace you and so many others fought so hard to achieve."

"Because I can't rest easy knowing there are still Death-Eaters out there," Harry replied resolutely and quickly. He placed his hands behind his back, trying his best not to show his ire at having to justify himself time and time again. "We won't be at peace until I put them away in Azkaban."

"What of those that come after?" McGonagall pressed. "Though I certainly hope we don't see another dark wizard the likes of Voldemort, surely you know there will always be evil in this world? There will always be those who wish to harm others. What will you do about them?"

"I always did want to become an auror," Harry said with a shrug. Of course he'd considered that. His entire time in the Wizarding world had more than instilled into him the ways of the world and he was no longer naive enough to believe it would ever change. "I suppose I'll just have to keep doing it if it means stopping another Voldemort from rising."

McGonagall raised a single questioning eyebrow at him. "You don't sound so very convinced of this yourself. Is that what you truly want, Mr. Potter?"

"With all due respect, Headmistress, I don't really know what I want right now," Harry finally admitted with a sigh. "But right now, it's what I have to do."

"Is it?" McGonagall's eyes softened as she asked that. "Is there nothing else you'd rather do with your time, or someone you'd like to spend it with? You don't have to save everyone again, Mr. Potter. Believe it or not, you are allowed to enjoy and do with your life what you wish."

Harry knew the Headmistress was referring to someone in particular. "Ginny and I aren't together anymore," he admitted. What he wouldn't admit to was that with the remainder of his family lost, and the girl he really loved in the arms of another, he didn't see what he could do to enjoy himself.

"Ginevra? But I assumed…" McGonagall trailed, looking as though she didn't quite understand him.

"Listen, Headmistress, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I do have my reasons for doing this. I can only hope you'll allow me to work with the Ministry while also attending classes," Harry said.

Headmistress McGonagall stared at Harry long and hard, so hard Harry had to concentrate in order to detect any possible use of legilimancy on her part and felt foolish when he detected no intrusion into his mind. It appeared she was merely studying him. But she was doing so with an intensity that bordered on the excessive.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. I imagine there's nothing else to be done about it now other than to make sure you keep up with your schoolwork. The moment I see your marks begin to slip, I'll revoke this this privilege. Do you understand?" McGonagall warned.

"I understand and thank you, Headmistress," Harry said honestly and with a slight inclination of his head.

The headmistress sighed and shook her head but there was a hint of a smile somewhere in the default that was her usual expression. "Very well. Do be careful out there, Mr. Potter."

By the time his meeting with McGonagall ended, it was time for dinner. He briefly considered skipping it but knew he would eventually have to face his friends. If he was going to be going on missions soon, he would need to keep his mind clear of concerns outside of surviving. He couldn't leave without getting Hermione to forgive him.

Harry entered the great hall to the low rumble of conversation. Following the war, the hustle and bustle of the great hall seemed to have been severely dulled. The Slytherin table, while scarcely ever rowdy before, was now near vacant as a result of their choosing the wrong side. The other houses had also suffered their own losses and it seemed that wounds were still very much fresh.

His own included.

Hermione and Ron were seated together off to the side. Once glance in his direction informed Harry she was still very much upset with him. And though he wanted to make things right, seeing them so close together pulled his heart into the icy pit of his stomach once more.

A sandwich was all he could stomach before he took to the room of requirements to sleep that night.


The following days played out very much the same. Every time he encountered Hermione or Ron, they were often times together and though it looked like Ron wanted to speak with him, Hermione would always drag him away.

Harry was quickly growing irritated by her behavior. They were no longer children and he was tired of behaving as such. He came to the decision he would reconcile with her when she was willing to look him in the eyes again. Until then, the distance she created may prove to help him in moving on from regretful sentiments.

The weekend arrived quickly and Harry found himself at the Three Brooms with two empty shot glasses and a butter beer populating his otherwise empty corner booth. He received instruction from Madam Bones that he was to wait for and meet his would be handler in the aurors for further instruction on his upcoming mission.

As he waited Harry found he was feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He pulled the sleeve of his dress shirt, briefly revealing his wand holster and made sure it was ready for use. He even made sure to lubricate it using a special magical grease and had practiced summoning it on his walk.

It, along with the marauders map, were the only things he was instructed to bring along with him.

"Drinking before a mission? Don't know if I should report you or commend you for already fitting in," a woman said as she took a seat across from him.

Harry was legitimately taken aback by just how beautiful she was.

Her hair was chestnut brown, short, and messy in every direction, with a tuft of orange that loosely reminded him of a maple leaf in abscission that had fallen and remained on the righthand side of her head, right above forehead. Her eyebrows were full above a pair of stunning violet eyes. Her skin was a soft tan with cheeks pink either naturally or as a result of make up; it was hard to tell in the low light of the establishment, with a light sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

She was wearing dark purple auror robes with a collar that extended past her ears over a dark green dress shirt and a pair of black pants with, of all things, combat boots.

"P-Password?" Harry was finally snapped out of his revere when she took the seat across from his own. As subtlety as possible, he dropped his right hand beneath the table in case he needed to draw his wand.

"In the future, you should already have your wand hand beneath the table," the woman said knowingly. "That way you don't draw automatic attention to your hand when you move it. Look down."

Harry was reluctant to do so but he was beginning to notice the patterns of her beautiful eyes. When he finally looked beneath the table, he could feel his heart racing in his chest and it wasn't because he was scared or worried of the wand trained on him beneath the table.

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry looked up and was met with a striking smug smirk that dimpled her left cheek alone.

"Oh, and it's snakeskin," the woman said as she made a show of holstering her wand within her own wrist holster with a flick. "Name's Merula Snyde, but I imagine Madam Bones already told you that."

"She did. I imagine you already know who I am as well," Harry said as he shook his head slightly to displace his hair. He tapped on his scar with a finger and felt a rush of excitment seeing her smirk briefly veer into a smile. "Madam Bones said you were going to be my handler and trainer until I graduate."

"Yep, you screw up one mission and you're stuck on babysitting duties," Merula said as she snatched his butter beer and took a long sip, making a cute face when she finished, licking her lips with a meaningful expression. "It was in the butter beer, then? Interesting choice, I like it."

"A favorite of my godfather's," Harry said simply. His mood had dropped at her comment about babysitting him.

A look of recognition flashed across her face.

"Well he had good taste," Merula stood abruptly, prompting him to do the same. "Come on then, we're going to the safe house where I'll brief you on the mission. Hope you got your sleep, Potter, because we'll be pulling an all nighter."


So I've recently been playing Hogwarts a Mystery. Not a bad game but man is it a grind-fest. I'm only in the Forth Year and I've been playing for like six months, give or take. I liked Merula's character so for those of you who remember, she'll be replacing the previous OC who was supposed to be training Harry.