Authors Note; Back to writing after years, with some new found inspiration.
Disclaimer; I don't own Harry potter
"Harry, just talk to us." "Oh Harry, I can't imagine..." "Mr. Potter, we would like to request your presence at.." "If you ever need to talk.." "Harry Potter does it again!" "The saviour attends death-eater trials!"
Harry opened his eyes blinking. A dream. Or a memory? Maybe a bit of both. The words of his friends, the ministry and the press. Sighing he got up from his bed at Grimmauld place and rubbed his eyes. If only he could just forget, or disappear. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to remember. Thinking about Hedwig, Tonks, Sirius and the many others lost in the war did not help.
"Kreacher", he called quietly and straight away there was a pop and the small creature was frowning at him.
"What is it master Potter? What can Kreacher do for you in middle of the night?"
"Tea please, with milk. Pick something calming."
Kreacher popped out without another word and soon a steaming cup of chamomile tea appeared on his nightstand. Getting up, he picked up the cup and moved to sit on armchair next to the window. It was clearly still middle of the night, maybe 3am at earliest. Harry looked around the room, his room, but it didn't feel like home. Frowning he turned his gaze to the night sky, just watching slowly sipping his tea. He knew he wouldn't sleep more tonight, not without potions at least. And potions were dangerous, he knew if he used them more there was a chance of him becoming addicted. That was one of the last things he needed, they would surely just lock him up at St. Mungos at that point, to be treated for his addiction.
Time passed, the sun rised and the cup abandoned to the windowsill was picked up by Kreacher at some point, but Harry hadn't even noticed the elf coming to pick it up. He had been thinking.
"Harry! Harry! Comeon! You promised to come today!" a sudden yell made him stop thinking and look at the clock in the wall. It was morning already. Frowning he tried to remember what day it was, and what promise the voice was referring to. He didn't have time to find out by his own, his friend opened the door and just stared at him for a while before speaking. In her eyes there was pity and Harry quickly turned his eyes back to the window.
"Party at Hogwarts remember? They finally fixed everything. It's ready for our eight year, and for everyone else too," Hermione exlaimed with a smile.
"Yeah. I know" Harry said taking another look at the clock. "But that's not for many hours Hermione, we have time."
"I know.. but.. just.. wasn't sure you remembered. You haven't picked your new robes from Madam Malkin's.."
Oh yes, his new dress ropes. He knew that he was not going to use those, but Hermione didn't. That was the last bit of detail he needed to make his plan work, to escape, to forget.
"Yea, thanks 'Mione. That's one thing I totally forgot about, I will go over to Diagon Alley to pick them up" he said smiling at one of his oldest friends.
Hermione kept quiet for a while again, looking lost at words. She had come there ready to drag him forcefully to the castle tonight.
"So you are coming?"
"I promised, ye? We can meet here one hour before the event starts, yes? I swear I'll have my robes picked up by then, mom" Harry said in a teasing tone.
"Harry. Molly is your mother, and you wouldn't want her here right now! Everyone is worried sick because you just keep to yourself in here, be happy that it's just me that came" she snapped turning her head away from Harry.
"I know, I know. I'll come today, and I am glad that it is you that came" he mused, and it was the truth. He knew his sad smile and small attempt at joking drew Hermione away from his lies. With his friends he could work, not that he liked lying to her, but he needed to.
Hermione turned her gaze back to him, studying him with her eyes for what felt like years. It took all his willpower to not squirm and admit to his plans. Finally she turned away waving her hand at him. "Fine, fine, I'll stop bothering you. Me and Ron will be there at six, you better be ready by then!"
He had 8 hours what he needed to do. To sort out it so no one would suffer from him leaving, yes, that was the plan. After changing to his robes and throwing the invisibility cloak on top of them, the hours took him to Gringotts and to a muggle bank. Securing money for the Weasley twins for their shop, and for himself outside of the magical world, making sure that if.. no, when everyone decided to look for him, the search would send them to anywhere but where he was. He signed the Grimmauld place to Andromeda, his godsons guardian and set up a trust fund for the boy in question. He picked up some clothes, but not his dressropes, he wouldn't need those. What he needed was muggle clothing, so he spent a while in muggle London looking for clothes that didn't scream Harry Potter, so anything but t-shirt and jeans.
He then returned to Grimmauld place, with not much time left, to pack his things. With a last glance at the room he noticed that his friends would arrive in less than half an hour. His last task was to instruct Kreacher to listen to Andromeda, but not tell anyone anything about him. With everything done, there was a loud bang when the door shut behind him and he apparated away.
After few apparations, just to throw off anyone trying to follow him, he was at a muggle airport somewhere in Europe. His first plane ticket was to France, where he spent a few months. He experienced kayacking in Gorges du Verdon, Jeep tours in The Camargue and his first boyfriend. In the city of love, he had found something that he thought could make him forget. Around christmas he was proven otherwise, finding his boyfriend in a bed with a young actress. It was time to move on, but with christmas nearing he felt a bit guilty about not telling anyone about where he was. Especially Molly Weasley, who had basically adopted him into their family, not caring about who he was. So from the airport, he sent her photo taken by himself. It was beautiful shot of the valleys in France, covered in snow.
"Happy Christmas Mom, and sorry.
Love, Harry"
A quick note on the back of the photo and it served as christmas card for Molly, which he dropped of right before stepping on the plane heading to Spain.
He spent weeks on the beach at San Sebastian eating pintxos, and when that got boring he ended up in Valencia's Central Market, devouring even more of the local foods. In that same market he found Dante, the handsome spanish guy with a magnicifent beard and muscles. Dante owned his own little restaurant in the market and had taught Harry how to bake the best tasting almond and sugar cakes, mantecadas y polvorones, better than anything Hogwarts ever served. But turned out they were a bit too magical, as Dante turned out to be a wizard and that alone made Harry vanish without a trace.
The summer was almost over when Harry landed in Amsterdam. Two weeks of smoking weed and drinking his worries away, until the crushing realization hit him that even though it made him forget for a while, it wasn't for him. With too much alcohol in his bloodstream, he had ended up at the airport once again and when he woke up when the plane landed he had no idea where he was.
It turned out to be Scotland, Edinburgh. Harry had no intention on staying but his head was hurting that night and he needed a good nights rest before flying on airplane again. He had signed in at the hotel and since it had been early morning, he headed straight for the breakfast table that would hopefully ease his headache a bit.
"Lightingbolt? Is that one of those scar-tattoos?" a sudden voice in front of him woke Harry up from his thoughts of why he had ended up here, so close to home. When Harry lifted his gaze he was met with icy blue eyes smiling at him.
"Uh, no." Harry mumbled and averted his gaze away from those eyes.
"Damn. Sorry if that is a touchy subject. Ignore that, let me introduce myself, I'm Scott. And you look like you are lost."
Harry didn't know at the time what it was about the man that made him talk to him, to let him take him to his rooms. He didn't know what made him stay for years so close to home. He still didn't know, but what he knew, was that Scott was the best friend he could have ever gotten. Scott had introduced him to the bdsm scene, and suprising himself, Harry found joy from submitting to the man. Even when their relationship ended up as lovers, or anything sexual, they stayed as best friends. Scott was there for him like no one else had been, he didn't pry, he just was there and Harry thought that was just perfect.
One year after they met, roughly two years after Harry had left Grimmauld place, they opened up a muggle night club. Harry enjoyed making drinks and listening to other people for once, no one interested in him. During chistmasses he made sure to send Molly a postcard, always, every christmas he was gone, just to make sure at least someone knew he was okay. Eventually Harry opened up to Scott about the wizarding world, about he scar, about how he left without a word to anyone. Scott had helped him with getting plastic surgery to remove the scar, or at least make it less noticeable. Harry had been sure this wouldn't work, just because of the origins of the scar. A curse, killing curse. But to his satisfaction it was just a scar now that Voldemort had died. With the muggle plastic surgeons and with some extra magic to speed up healing, the scar was gone. This allowed Harry to grow his hair like he had wanted to, a lenght where he could put it in a tidy ponytail. He had gotten laser surgery for his eyes and didn't need glasses. Life seemed to be just fine, not perfect perhaps, but better than anything Harry could have wished for.