Disclaimer: I still don't own J. K. Rowling's characters, just the plot. And the horrible smut.
A/N: Heavier matters ahoy. Harry explains why he left. Edit 1/11/16: As a commenter pointed out, I made a continuity error. I fixed it already, but I don't know why it didn't update. I'm making this edit and forcing an update to hopefully prevent that error from showing back up. Thanks!
Saturday night had been interesting, Pansy reflected. They had gone into the bar and she watched as Harry helped his staff configure the bar for a pub quiz night, with a live band following. She drank martinis at the bar and watched him interact with the regulars. He was at ease with them, dropping a joke here, a compliment there, and he knew them all by name. She had been very impressed. They had come back up to his flat for dinner, and gone to bed shortly after. The sex had been different. Much more intimate, less taking and more giving. It was just as wonderful as the first time, but more fulfilling. It was definitely something different for her, as she had not experienced something so...complete.
Sunday morning dawned, and Pansy again awoke in Harry's arms with her head on his chest. She got up, and this time he did not stir. She took a shower alone, and then went into the kitchen to make some coffee. She sat at the counter, drinking her coffee, and thinking about how the day might go. She heard the shower turn on, and a few minutes later it turned off. A few more minutes passed, and then Harry's arms slid around her waist and he nuzzled her neck. "Good morning, beautiful," he whispered and kissed her cheek.
Pansy blushed and smiled at him. "Good morning yourself, handsome." She reached up and stroked his jaw. "You need a shave, mister."
Harry shrugged. "There's no shaving on Sundays, didn't you know that? You made coffee? Good." He poured himself a cup, adding a bit of sugar and cream, and sipped it. "Ahhh. That's really good. I can never get that depth of flavor out of this piece of crap." He thumped the coffee maker and laughed.
"Harry…" she began. He raised a hand up.
"I know, I promised you answers. But the weekend isn't over yet, Pansy," he said carefully.
She sighed. "But I have to be at work in the morning, Harry, and if we are going to talk, it needs to be today. And I have a feeling there's a lot of words to be said, so it's better that we started early."
She smiled at him. "I promise you, I'm not going anywhere, no matter how this goes. Unless you ask me to, of course. And if you'll have me, I'll stay the night again."
The look he gave her was so intense, she felt like it hit her in almost a physical way. Those brooding green eyes were intense and passionate, the chiseled jaw firm. His gaze made her skin warm and she felt the blush rising on her neck. Harry nodded. "You raise a fair point. Ok, fine. I gather you want to know why I disappeared?" he asked.
Pansy nodded. "Your friends have been looking for you for a long time."
"And they hired you, I think, to find me," he said.
She blinked, blindsided. How had he figured that out? "...yes. They did," she admitted.
He nodded. "I figured as much when you came into the bar the other night."
"How the hell did you figure that out, Harry?" she managed to get out.
"I didn't at first, you know. But eventually. You remember Holly, the hostess?" She nodded. "She also works the front desk at the hotel. As a practice, I don't like the staff to appear the same between the two places, so she uses a disguise charm to change her hair." He sighed.
"I need to fortify my coffee for this." He turned to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle. He splashed some liquor into his mug and offered her the bottle. She took it and did the same, then handed it back. He put it away and sat down next to her. His eyes appeared to be staring into the distance. "When I found that girl, something inside me broke. Every year, there was loss."
She touched his hand, and he smiled sadly at her. "Professor Quirrell first year. And then Ginny almost died in second year. Sirius almost killed Pettigrew third year, and fourth year...Cedric. Fifth year I finally got to spend time with my godfather, and I had a real parent for the first time. And then Bellatrix killed him. Then Dumbledore...and then the Battle."
Tears flowed freely from his eyes and he made no move to wipe them away. "Ever since I became a wizard, Pansy, people died. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop the deaths. Ginny, Molly, Luna, Kingsley…" He sniffed hard. "I was the Chosen One, Pansy. The Boy Who Lived. Everyone's hopes rested on me. And I failed them. I failed them all. The closer I got to Riddle, the more people died, the more people in danger. If I'd gone to him when he asked for me, and you said what you said. I finally killed Tom, but it didn't matter. They were all already dead. I thought that was the end. No more deaths, no more lives not lived. "
Pansy started to say something, but he kept going. It was like a dam breaking inside him, and he felt like he couldn't talk fast enough to get it all out. "I know why you did it, I didn't then, but I know now. You were scared. And that's okay. You were sixteen and with everything that had happened...you didn't know what I was out doing. Only Ron and Hermione knew about the horcruxes." He looked over at her and said "I forgave you a long time ago, by the way. Once I understood why. I should have found you and told you. Not only that I forgave you, but that you were right. How many lives would have been saved if I had gone to him right then? But there were still two horcruxes to destroy before I could kill him." He laughed, and rubbed the place where his scar once was. "As it turned out, there were three."
She looked at him, confused. He saw it, and said quietly, "When Riddle tried to kill me as a baby, he unintentionally made ME a horcrux of his. I'll tell you more about all that later, okay?" She nodded. "But I wondered...if I'd gone to him, would Ginny and Molly still be alive?"
Pansy took his hand in hers and squeezed it tight. Harry was crying freely now, wracking sobs shaking his chest. She put her arm around him and lay her head on his shoulder.
"The battle was over, school was over, everything should have been fine. The Golden Age of wizardry everyone hoped would happen when Riddle was gone. But the deaths didn't stop, and I didn't know anything about myself other than I fought evil. So I became an Auror, and every other week, it seemed, I found a dead body. Then...that day...there was a missing girl...and I recognized the signs around where she was taken. I went to that monster's lair...I didn't see the pictures of her. I didn't know. She…"
He took in a great shuddering gasp.
"She looked just like Ginny. And I .. I couldn't handle it. I convinced myself that if I hadn't become a wizard, all these people wouldn't have died because of me. So I left. I couldn't cause another innocent death, Pansy. I couldn't be responsible for any more. I didn't speak to anyone, not even my friends, because I had convinced myself that everything was because I was there. If I just disappeared, everyone's life could go back to normal."
He sighed.
"I went to Gringott's, and I cashed out half my vault into Muggle money. I went back to Little Whinging because my aunt and uncle had moved, but the house was empty. I stayed there for a while, until I had to have something to do. I thought I'd try my hand at bar-tending, and as it turns out, Seeker reflexes work really well for bar-tending. I picked up the trade pretty quickly, and started working at the bar downstairs. A few months later, the owner announced he wanted to sell the bar and retire to the south of France. I had the money, just collecting dust, so I bought the place."
He took a drink of his spiked coffee, and looked at her. "I avoid magic as much as I can, but when I bought the bar, I put magic into the room, and hired witches and wizards who also wanted to get away from the magic life. The bar will always have exactly enough seats for the people who come in. We can reconfigure the large room for different events, like the other night. There's a private room that can be rented out for parties and events. I hired the best chef I could find in America, because I wanted a different take on the food. Surprisingly enough, I found him in Alabama of all places. But, well, you've had his food."
Harry sighed. "And I found out, I'm really, really good at this business thing. I used wizard spells to make a Muggle business succeed. And it's worked out well. I bought the hotel and the building with the profits I made from the bar, and I didn't even have to dip into the family fortune. My staff are able to take care of problems that would sink any regular business, but like me, they only use magic when they have to."
He turned and looked at her. "And then one night, Pansy Parkinson walked into my bar, while my two best friends stood outside in the snow and waited."
She blushed straight to her temples. She tried to say something but it came out as a squeak.
"How did I know?" he asked. He took a deep swallow of his drink. "I didn't know that night. But when I asked Holly to watch for you the other night, she told me you'd checked into the hotel, along with two other people. When I asked her about them, the descriptions could only match Ron and 'Mione. Anthony told me he saw you standing outside with two people who didn't come in, and that he could tell you were being deceptive. It didn't take long to put everything together."
He turned to her, and looked at her earnestly. "Pansy, please tell me what has happened between us has not been a ruse to bring me back to the world I chose to leave. Tell me this is honest attraction and interest."
Pansy looked at him. Her emotions were all over the place. She was interested in him, certainly. But she had played the intimacy card this weekend initially to get him to talk to her. And now, she found herself completely taken by this man. He had opened up to her, and she could almost feel his emotions. She felt the tears dripping from her eyes as she nearly felt what he felt. She was both confused, and convinced. Everything up to this point had been partially a lie...until now. What had been a lie had become the truth. At a loss for words for the first time in her life, she answered him with a kiss.
Harry tasted their mixed tears in the kiss and he responded gently, putting an arm around her.
She broke off the kiss, pressed her forehead against his, and said "To be honest, that's why I came here. To find you, find out why you left, and bring you back. That's what they hired me to do. You know I run that dress shop and design clothing, but I'm also an investigative reporter. When Ron and Hermione hired me to find you, and told me I could write the story if you agreed...it would have been the biggest coup of my life. 'The Boy Who Disappeared', and all that. And at dinner that first night, I started to see the man you've become. By the time I left, I didn't know if I still wanted to write that story."
He gave her a small smile, and said, "What about now?" She stroked his hand with her thumb and looked directly into his eyes.
"What story?" she asked, innocently. "No. The story will not get written unless you ask me to write it. You're trusting me with your secret and I won't break that trust. And to finish answering your first question, all of this," she squeezed his hand, then touched his cheek. "All of this is you and me and what we have together, which is good." She kissed him.
After a long moment, he broke the kiss and kept talking, but kept her hand in his. "I saw Hermione and Ron a couple of times after I left, you know. But it was better for me to leave clean. I know they're mad. I know they're worried. But it is better this way."
He sighed. "There's another reason I can't go back."
He sat upright, and his voice changed slightly. It became deeper...more authoritative, more adult. "Lord Harry Potter, of the House of Potter, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, has arrived."
His voice went back to normal. "That's too much pressure for one man to bear alone. Head of not one, but two, old houses? You're a pure-blood, you know how that is. I am expected to take a wife for each house. To provide heirs. To maintain business arrangements. To vote … TWICE...on the Wizengamot. I'm twenty-four, Pansy. I can't handle that kind of responsibility right now."
He put his head in his hand and sobbed. "So yeah. I ran away. I acted like a nine year old, and I ran away from my life. I couldn't handle it. So I left."
Pansy stood and wrapped her arms around him.
"I understand, Harry. I really do," she whispered softly into his hair.
Pulling back and turning his face to hers, Pansy looked at him intently. "Harry, you need to talk to your friends. They miss you, and they love you. They've gotten to the point in trying to find you that they're convinced finding that girl's body caused a mental breakdown and that you need help. They told me how you grew up, in that horrible house, and with Dumbledore doling out pieces of information and help to you like they were special treats for a job well done. How Dumbledore tried to make you a particular person, that he thought he knew best how you had to live your life. They didn't realize how wrong that attitude was, and for a while now, have been showing they have the same mindset. You have to be brought back to the world of magic and be an Auror and marry some witch and you belong in that world. That's what they think. Or, well, thought."
She took a drink from her mug, and continued. "I managed to get them to back off and go home, and let me find out what's going on. I told them they were acting like Dumbledore and that even if you truly had had a breakdown, it wasn't their decision to make if you lived in their world or this one."
Harry snorted. "You're right on that count. Dumbledore very well could have been ruining my life. I know he had a plan for everything, but I don't think it was a good plan. It was a plan to kill Riddle and have me as his pet wizard. Oh, I learned a lot about Dumbledore after he died, while we were searching for the horcruxes. I am still grateful to him for what he did do for me, but I also kind of resent him for what he didn't do. He didn't make sure I knew about the world of magic I was going to live in. He didn't make sure I grew up in a loving and kind home. And he most definitely did not make sure I knew how to do anything other than kill Riddle. I also learned more about myself and Riddle in the year after Dumbledore died than I had in many years before that. I don't know, if Dumbledore had lived, if I would have learned as much."
"You're not wrong there, Harry," Pansy said softly. "I wish it had been different for you."
She led him over to the sofa and lit the fire. They sat in silence for a few minutes, digesting what each other had said, and drinking their coffee. Pansy pulled his arm around her and curled up against his side. "We should have Ron and Hermione over for dinner tonight. Let them see the amazing man you've become."
He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "We?" he asked.
"Huh?" she blurted, having gotten lost in her thoughts again. "What?"
"You said 'we should have Ron and Hermione over for dinner', not 'you should have Ron and Hermione over for dinner'. Are we a ...we?" he queried her, smiling hopefully.
Pansy tilted her head up at him and kissed him. "Two nights ago, not on your life. But now? If you'll have me. I can't explain why I feel this way, or why it's happened so fast. And I bloody well don't care. I...I think I love you, Harry Potter."