The bustle of the city outside provided constant white noise as Harry's eyes kept on flicking over to the divorce papers laying on the coffee table in front of him. He should have seen this coming, there were many warning signs.
Their marriage fell apart so quickly, it unraveled right before their very eyes. The last couple of years were filled with long work hours and stilted conversations. They had come together under strenuous circumstances, seeking immediate comfort in each other's presence rather than discussing their future hopes and wishes. And after the end of the war it quickly became apparent how different each of them was, how widely their future goals varied. But they resolved to stay together, trying to hang on to the idea of what their relationship had come to symbolize. But as the years went on, their affection for one another, their infatuation, slowly diminished until all that was left was indifference.
It was Ginny's idea to take a break, they just needed a little time apart and then they would be as good as new. Even then her words felt empty, said only for the sake of not making it sound so final. Harry couldn't handle the idea of being by himself in the large house they had built together, so he packed up and moved to a little apartment close to his work. It was best to not be reminded of what could have been.
He continued like that for a year. Each day just as monotonous as the last; always waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now, the physical proof of the end of a ten year relationship laid before him and with it the broken promise of a family. He had been alone before; he had managed alright. Harry was by no means unwelcome in the family; Molly expressed early on that this breakup could not end a kinship that started when he was still a child. She still visited him from time to time, bringing him food, and scolding him for not writing more often. And with each visit Harry would wish that maybe, if he had tried harder earlier on in his marriage, he and Ginny could still be together.
A knock on the door broke Harry out of his reverie. He sighed and got up, hoping that whoever it was waiting on him would finish their business quickly.
"You sure are a right mess," Hermione said as soon as her eyes fell on Harry. "How many days has it been since you have last showered?"
Harry shrugged. He was technically on vacation for a week, but he must have lost track of time.
Hermione grimaced as she walked into the flat, which appeared to be in complete disarray. "I know you are going through some hard times right now – which is why I let you mope for as long as you have, but I'm not going to let you keep living like this." She was carrying bags in both of her hands which Harry soon discovered held much needed groceries. She had anticipated his food stocks to be running low and discovered herself correct in her assumptions when, upon opening some cupboards, only found instant noodles and a few cans of vegetables. Hermione sighed and started unpacking the bags of groceries and some homemade meals that Molly had helpfully supplied.
She had expected this event for several years now; the growing distance between her two friends grew wider and wider with each passing year. When news of them separating had reached her she had resolved to invite Harry over more often to her and Ron's house, hoping that the kids and their company would provide a good distraction. And this had worked for a time, until the news of the impending divorce reached Ron who in turn told her to 'leave it be for a little while.' And she did. But she also knew that Harry would be hesitant to reach out for any help, even if that meant sitting alone at home in his own filth.
"You should have at least written, you know," Hermione said.
Harry walked over to one of the wobbly dining room chairs and sat down. "I was sure you'd hear the news from Ginny first. There wasn't a need for me to inform you of what you must have already known."
"That's not the point," Hermione argued. "Ron and I are still your friends. I know we've all been busy with work and what not, but we worry about you. We want to make sure that you're doing alright."
"I am alright," Harry answered. "This wasn't exactly a surprise."
"But it's still a major change in your life."
Harry rubbed his hand across his face. "My life started changing long before this. The paperwork just made it final."
Hermione took a moment to really look at Harry, noticing how pronounced the dark circles under his eyes were, before saying, "I'm sorry, you know."
"Nothing to be sorry for," Harry said. "It wasn't your fault."
"It is still an adjustment."
Harry let out a self-deprecating laugh in agreement. They lapsed into a silence, during which he glanced down at himself and noticed just how much of a mess he appeared to be. The old shirt that he was wearing had leftover grease spots and pit stains on it, his sleep pants that he had worn since god knows when fared no better. His hair, he was sure, was in complete disarray. And he discovered, upon taking a quick whiff of his armpit, he had a bit of a smell. Feeling a little embarrassed, he excused himself to the shower, knowing that Hermione would take no offense at his absence.
After Harry had left Hermione let out a big sigh and put her hands on her hips as she paced around the kitchen. Her friend appeared to be in a real funk; and although she wanted to help, she knew that she wasn't a miracle worker. This problem would require time and exertion of one's mind before getting to a better place. Harry certainly had plenty of time now that he wasn't throwing himself into danger – at least until he went back to work. The exertion of the mind may take a little more effort and she doubted he would be willing to read any of her suggested books.
Sitting down in the chair Harry had vacated, she tried to think of how to help; she could provide nutrition and help clean up the flat, she supposed. And being a willing listener was sure to be therapeutic. But considering her and Ron's relationship with Ginny she wasn't sure how much Harry would be willing to divulge. Especially now when, whether consciously or subconsciously, he was pulling away from everybody, trying to deal with everything by himself.
Taking a quick look around and analyzing which piles of clutter and grime needed her immediate attention, Hermione set off to start putting some semblance of order back into Harry's life. She was in the middle of scrubbing a particularly stubborn dirty plate when Harry walked back into the kitchen, sporting a wet mop of hair and some clean clothes.
"You don't have to do this," he said as he tried to take the dish away from Hermione.
She snatched her hands – plate included – away from Harry. "Until this place stops looking like a pig sty I'm not going anywhere. But if you really want to help, go take the garbage out. It smells like it's been in here for weeks."
Harry wordlessly complied as Hermione continued her ministrations. After returning from his task he was quickly assigned to sweep the floors while Hermione took her time going through the different rooms of the apartment, collecting dirty articles of clothing.
Upon finding them both concentrating their efforts in the same room again, Hermione tried to find a topic of discussion not concerning the giant elephant in the room. "I received a letter from Professor McGonagall the other day. She said they are going to be looking for a replacement for the defense against the dark arts teaching position for the following year."
"Why are they needing a replacement?" Harry asked as he continued sweeping.
Hermione finished tugging the pillowcases off the pillows on the bed and threw them in the hamper along with the sheets. "Apparently, the current professor had gotten invited to teach over in one of the American schools; she said they made him an offer he could not refuse. At least he had the courtesy of staying until the end of the year and didn't just leave."
"At least he didn't die," Harry commented.
"Yes and, by our standards, held that position for a record amount of time."
Harry continued sweeping, all the while thinking about the new information he had just learned. An idea began to form, a rather dangerous one, but he willed it into the back of his mind before its formation could finish forming.
Meanwhile, Hermione had finished collecting all the dirty laundry strewn about the flat and made her way over to the modified washing machine. After casting a quick spell to get the washing started, she headed over to the living room to continue with de-cluttering.
She was no stranger to Harry's waning passion toward being an auror; during a rather alcohol fueled family Christmas he had confided his growing disappointment with his job. A combination of resentful wizards and witches and coworkers who believed him to not have worked hard for his position had made his employment less than enjoyable. This confession had caused great surprise initially but looking back she realized that Harry's behavior over the past several years displayed the signs and symptoms of career dissatisfaction. She had tried to hint at the idea of changing his situation and trying something new, but that was met with a steady refusal and an end to the conversation. Although she had respected Harry's wishes and not brought up the subject again it was still on her mind during her correspondence with Professor McGonagall.
The news of the open position had hastened Hermione's plan to visit Harry, in the hopes that talking about it would be enough of a hint. She knew that Harry's lack of teaching experience could potentially be a problem, but she hoped that his work as an auror would overcome his other deficiencies - this was all assuming that Harry would even be interested in teaching. Ultimately, she hoped that this visit would sow the idea in his mind, and as much as it pained her to acknowledge, it was now out of her hands.
After deeming the living room to be in a decently presentable state Hermione set off back into the kitchen to get some food ready for both herself and Harry. She decided to heat up the vegetable soup that Molly had prepared earlier in the day and went about getting it warmed up. Harry, having finished with his chore, came into the kitchen and sat back down at the table.
"Have you heard from Ginny?" he asked after sitting some time in silence.
Hermione stopped stirring for a moment before continuing. "She's doing fine, I think. According to her last letter she is living in Paris right now."
"That suits her," Harry replied, remembering how much she had loved vacationing there every chance she had. After one of such vacations she had expressed interest in one day settling down there or some other similar place in Europe. But Harry had pretended not to get the hint and had claimed that there was nothing wrong with where they were living.
"She worries about you, you know. All her letters always ask about how you're doing and whatnot."
"I know," Harry replied, "She still sometimes writes to me."
"But you don't answer," Hermione concluded. She reached up in one of the cabinets to retrieve a couple of bowls.
"I figured she'd get her questions answered by everybody else in the family," he answered as he got up to get the spoons.
"Except getting you to talk to us anymore is like pulling teeth. It's hard to talk about how you are doing when even we don't know that information," she said as she filled the bowls with soup.
Harry stayed silent as he accepted his bowl from Hermione and took it over to the table.
"Molly is planning on having a family dinner this Saturday," she stated after they had both sat down and dug into their soup. "She plans on writing to you soon, and I know she will threaten you if you don't show up again."
"I'll be there," he answered, hoping that he wouldn't lose the courage to make an appearance at the last second.
"Good." After a couple of minutes of eating in silence Hermione continued. "Everybody misses you. Rose and Hugo are always asking why you don't come around anymore."
"I miss them too. I'll see if I can't come by later this week."
"They'll like that," Hermione said and let them both lapse back into a silence.
Harry let out a long sigh of relief when he was finally left alone again. Having the company of his friend helped – it got him to accomplish more in one day than he had in the past week. But his conversations with Hermione had left him feeling more pensive than he was before; this time his reflection concerned more than his broken marriage. He had been feeling unfulfilled and unhappy for a long time now and not all of it had to do with his relationship with Ginny. A boy's dream of what the work of an auror was and the reality were a harsh contrast when compared to one another. But Harry had refused to think of any other options. This was what his father had done, it was a part of his legacy. As his son, it felt only right to continue in his footsteps.
But with each passing year Harry had found himself incessantly tired, he was less and less invested in his work. The feeling of job well done did not strike the same level of satisfaction as it once did. The days grew more and more monotonous as the witches and wizards he dealt with grew more and more resentful. Getting up each morning to go to work left him feeling more fatigued than coming home did.
And now here he was, fast approaching thirty, burnt out, and a broken marriage to show what his post war years had brought.
Harry rubbed his face in defeat. Hermione was right, there was no use in getting hung up on the past - even a time-turner couldn't fix this mess at this point. He needed write to Professor McGonagall and see if he had a chance at getting that position. He had an idea of what his odds were; after all, he didn't necessarily have all the qualifications to teach. And there was a possibility that they already had someone else in mind. But rejection was the worst outcome of this situation, and the need for change far outweighed the fear of being incompetent.
Sighing, he got up and went in search of some parchment and a quill. It was best to get it over with as quickly as possible before he changed his mind.
