Begin Again: Harry's Life Post-War
Chapter One:
Green grass sloped up next to the path to the front door of the house. It was a cold, wet October, with an iron grey sky dotted with bright white. Harry Potter walked up to the decrepit House of Black, with its dusty grey windows looking extremely uninviting. Harry walked inside and was greeted by a dust Dumbledore, reaching his long dusty fingers out for Harry's throat.
"I didn't kill you," Harry said lazily, shutting the door at the same time dust Dumbledore vanished. He was plunged into darkness.
He turned to a gas burner, and turned it on. Murky yellow light barely broke through the darkness.
"What a miserable place," Harry thought, turning to his coat hook and hanging his black cloak up on it.
He went down to the kitchen, found a glass and filled it with orange juice, which he drank with no apparent haste. The kitchen was covered with a thick layer of dust, which was seemingly impenetrable. He found this house very dull, and vowed to himself that he would move as soon as he could.
Kreacher shuffled awkwardly inside the room. He was really starting to get old, and Harry could see how his eyes were taking on a permanently greyish tinge.
"Why don't I just set you free?" Harry asked, feeling quite sorry for the old elf.
"Kreacher lives to serve the noble House of Black," Kreacher answered dully. "Kreacher will serve his master till his death."
"Kreacher, I may decide one day to move out of this house," said Harry firmly. "And when that happens, I cannot take you."
"Master is unfair on poor Kreacher," said Kreacher, his voice hinting desperation and shock, but exuding tiredness. "What has Kreacher done to deserve Master's desertion? Kreacher doesn't know."
"Kreacher, you've been great and very helpful to me, but I'll be going soon and I can't expect you to come with me," Harry said, trying to make the elf see sense. "You're an old elf now, and you must look after yourself. Things are changing soon, I won't be on my own."
For Harry and Ginny had corresponded over the term, and had come to the conclusion to move in together somewhere else. Harry didn't want to stay in this house full of old and painful memories of the godfather he lost, so he was looking for houses in the West Country, somewhere in the countryside away from people gawking at his scar. He wanted to move to the West Country to be near his loved ones, including the Weasleys.
Godric's Hollow was an option for Harry. He wanted to be near his parents' graveyard, so he could give them flowers every Christmas, inspired by Hermione, who had conjured a wreath for them the last time they visited Godric's Hollow. Even though they almost died there the last time, at least that memory was a nice one.
Kreacher ambled out of the kitchen looking extremely sad. Harry felt sorry for him, for the elf would no longer have any purpose. But Harry had plans he wanted to fulfil. With tht thought in mind, as if on cue, a tiny beam of yellow sunshine permeated the kitchen from the small window near the ceiling.