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There were many things that the wizarding world knew about Harry James Potter. It was common knowledge that his parents had been murdered trying to protect him and that the Killing Curse intended for him as a baby had rebounded and defeated Voldemort, allowing for peace for ten years.
Witches and wizards alike recalled the stories of the dubbed Golden Trio fighting evil time and time again until Harry Potter had eventually defeated Voldemort once and for all on May 2, 1998.
Harry Potter had been a household name his entire life from a whispered breath in the homes of families all over the world, to wizards celebrating his birthday in the form of a national holiday. He could be recognized everywhere and, when he was, he’d be greeted like an old friend.
But, for what the world did know about Harry Potter, there was far more stowed away in the shadows. The aftermath of the war had pushed Harry to jump into decisions with two feet, uncaring of any potential consequences. He had married Ginny mere weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, promising to love her with every part of him. Because, to Harry, he had lived past his expiration date and every day he was given was simply a gift. No dark wizards, no prophecies, no expectations.
Unfortunately, no one told him about the trauma that came along with being a war hero.
No one told him that the ribbons strung around his neck would feel like an ever-tightening noose, nor did they tell him that each morning awarded medals would transfigure into guilt-filled weights so heavy that he seemed unable to catch his breath even after they had been removed. No one explained that nightmares felt more realistic than ever and that loss of sleep only worsened the effects. No one told him that fireworks sounded like Bombarda spells ricocheting off of the walls of Hogwarts and that when he heard them he would fall to the ground, clutching his head so tightly it would throb. No one had told him to prepare himself for when children screamed at the park, lest he was to mistake them for first years trapped in a battle they hardly understood. Or that sudden movements would result in shoving your wand so deep into the neck of your wife, the Cruciatus Curse on your tongue, that she screamed. No one prepared him to accept that intimacy could look like shedding your clothes and entwining with your wife in one moment, while the next would have you curled up on the bathroom floor, clutching a bottle of Firewhisky - your sobs intermingling with those of the redhead on the other side of the door.
But no one had told him, so how could he have known?
As the months passed since the final battle when Harry began venturing out of the house, he would lose count of how often he’d overhear, ‘ That’s Harry Potter, I know him!’ But how could they, when his friends hardly knew how to act around him? When his wife treated him as if he were a stranger? When Harry Potter barely even knew himself?
It shouldn’t have hurt him when Ginny left. He should have expected the time to come well before it actually did. But the sight of the woman he had once loved, with her bags packed on the floor, had shaken him to his core.
He wanted to fight, to plead with her to stay, promise to change, and to love her just like he used to. But then he slowed and he stilled and he remembered that all of his life he had been fighting, pleading, desperate for things that seemed unattainable. And he saw the look in her blue eyes, one that told him that she had loved him once but those days had since passed he knew that fighting would be futile. So he stood to the side and watched her go, unsure which part of him she took with her, but knowing that, whatever it was, had not been his for a long time.
No one had told him what it was like to merely exist. To go through the motions of life while standing on the periphery, disconnected from the world.
When the dust had settled and his marriage dissolved, Harry knew that while Ron may not have wanted to, he was going to have to choose. It was a clear choice, his family or his friend, but part of him hoped that Ron wouldn’t allow himself to be swayed.
Unfortunately, that was not the case. Ron had ceased almost all contact with Harry at the request of his younger sister. In fact, none of the Weasleys had made any attempt to reach out to him. Even after all those years of treating him like family, they had shunned him with ease. It hurt him more than he thought anything could.
It had surprised him when Hermione showed up on his front door months after his fall out with the Weasleys. But, as she wrapped her arms around him, promising that nothing would ever ruin their friendship, he finally felt like he wasn’t alone.
From then on, his outings involved having to listen to people discuss the breakdown of his marriage and friendships. He tried to ignore it, reminding himself that the press would grow tired of the topic and move on to something else... Until he remembered that he was Harry Potter and the Daily Prophet hadn’t stopped talking about him since he was eleven years old. Eventually, he couldn't even leave his bedroom without being bombarded by newspaper articles.
He was fed up. Completely and utterly fed up with having his face plastered on newspapers, his name being called when leaving, with everything and anything to do with Harry James Potter. So he decided to venture out into the Muggle world, slipping easily into the anonymity it provided - he found that here he didn’t have to be Harry Potter, the boy who lived twice. He could just be… Harry. And, while the prospect of being someone completely new gave him pause, he couldn’t deny the anticipation bubbling inside of him.
Harry loved being just another person in the sea of others. He loved going to football matches, drinking overpriced beer, and cheering regardless of who scored. He loved sitting in the pub and listening to the loud banter carrying on all around him. Harry Potter was invisible, and he couldn’t think of anything that might ruin that for him.
That was until he ran until Theodore Nott. Literally.
His body had collided with the other wizard’s, causing both of them to stumble at the impact. When Harry had locked eyes with the former-Slytherin, he hadn’t uttered a word to him. Instead, he ran to a nearby alley and Apparated home, finding solace in the form of a bottle of Firewhiskey.
Harry hoped that it had been a fluke, a one-time occurrence that he could push to the recesses of his mind, not allowing the encounter to taint the Muggle world for him too. However, this had not been the case. He found himself running into Theodore Nott more times than he could ever remember seeing him before. He saw Theodore at the park, in the pub, it seemed that there was no place he could hide from the wizard. Paranoia had begun to set in and he knew he needed to address the wizard sooner rather than later.
So, when Harry saw the brown curls that no doubt belonged to one Theodore Nott, walking out from the Muggle pub one night, Harry didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the wizard by the shirt and pulled him into a nearby alley. Harry lodged his wand into the side of Theodore's neck so quickly that he actually let out a shout, but Harry didn't care.
“Potter what the fuck are you-”
“Are you following me?” Harry asked, digging the wand deeper into his neck, puncturing the skin.
“What the fuck are you - that’s going to scar, you asshole!” Theo tried to pull back, but Harry had a vice-like grip on him.
“Why are you following me?” Harry repeated, ignoring Theo’s statement entirely.
“I am not following you, Potter,” Theo began to deny Harry’s accusations. “Put the fucking wand down.”
Harry didn’t.
“You really just happened to be at every spot that I’ve been at for weeks?” Harry asked incredulously.
“Okay fine, ” Theo relented with a dramatic sigh. “I have been following you. But not for anything nefarious... I just couldn’t believe I’d see you here.” Theo tried pulling back from Harry’s wand again.
“I think it should be me who’s concerned with seeing you here,” Harry remarked.
Theo’s eyes darkened and he slammed his palms into Harry's chest, pushing him back, and Harry stumbled, almost falling heavily to the ground. Theo sniffed, straightened his clothes, and glared at Harry.
“I guess they were right,” Theo said with a disbelieving snort. “Harry fucking Potter really is the boy who lives to assume.”
Harry watched as Theo turned to leave, and he should have let him. But something inside of him urged him to stop Theo in his tracks. To explain that Theo didn’t know who he was.
“You don’t know me,” Harry replied, confusion washing over his features when Theo scoffed.
Theo turned back to Harry, his eyes trailing over Harry’s figure before replying.
“You’re not the only one running from something.” Theo drawled and, without waiting for a response, Apparated away, leaving Harry to mull over the Slytherin’s words.
---
It was nearly a month before Harry saw Theodore Nott again.
This time, Harry had been the one to find him lingering at the bar with some sort of dark liquor in his glass. He hesitated, but curiosity had won over and Harry stalked toward the bar. As Harry sat down, Theo didn't even spare him a glance, but he greeted him nonetheless.
“Fancy seeing you here Potter.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but the bartender came over to them before he could. Theo quickly ordered Harry the same thing that he had, sending the young woman a dazzling smile. When she had returned with his drink Harry swallowed it all in one go. If Theo was concerned about Harry’s lack of reaction to gulping down the alcohol so quickly, he didn’t show it.
“Did you know I’d be here tonight?” Harry asked, blinking in confusion when Theo laughed.
“Yes, Potter, I wrote it down in my calendar,” Theo smirked over at him.
Harry opened his mouth before shutting it again, repeating the action a few more times before releasing a sigh.
“This is… uncomfortable.” Harry finally admitted, letting out an awkward laugh. Much to his surprise, Theo laughed as well.
“It is,” Theo affirmed, taking another swig from his glass. “Though it certainly doesn’t have to be,”
“We aren’t friends-” Harry began but was cut off by Theo holding up his finger.
“We aren’t friends at home, but here…” Theo began, gesturing around them. “Here, we can be anything. ”
Harry was sure there was a double meaning to Theo's words, but he couldn't quite figure out what.
“This could be a fresh start,” Theo suggested, hitching an eyebrow up and holding out his glass.
Harry realized then - that he was being propositioned.
The apprehension was clear on Harry’s face but he clinked his newly replenished glass against Theo’s and said, “To a fresh start.”
And, as the two of them drank, Harry could see a twinkle in Theo’s eye telling him that there was more to the Slytherin than met the eye.
---
In the months that passed, Harry was surprised to find that there was much more to Theodore Nott than he had assumed. While he had once assumed that Theo had taken after Malfoy, finding enjoyment in taunting and sneering at others, he was, in fact, witty, snarky, and sarcastic.
There had been plenty of times Harry had been surprised to find himself corrected when his assumptions of Theo simply did not equate to the man in the flesh. For all the slack Slytherin House was given for harboring evil wizards, Harry did not think that Theo possessed a genuinely mean bone in his body.
Slowly the two acquaintances had grown closer to one another, a gradual shift to a friendship that was unexpected but not unwelcome. Harry found himself lowering his guard around the other wizard, finding it easier to reconcile who he’d once been before the war, and who he was now, both identities meshing freely with the companionship Theo provided. Before Harry knew it, he looked forward to the time he would be spending with Theo.
Their time together had transformed from spontaneous meetups in pubs to scheduled trips that oftentimes turned into Harry coaxing the curly-haired wizard to sit down and watch a football match. He found that Theo didn’t understand anything when it came to sports, both wizarding and Muggle and, while it would normally bother him to have to explain the game, he found himself doing it with ease, sometimes even before being prompted by Theo at all. Most of the time, Theo made Harry laugh, a peal of deep belly-aching laughter that caused him to clutch his sides and tears to prick in his eyes.
It was easy being friends with Theo, and even easier to fall in love with him.
Though Harry was reluctant to admit it, he had fallen truly and deeply in love with the Slytherin wizard - despite the odds. He had thought love was this intense, all-consuming painful experience as it had been for him in the past.
He didn’t think love could look like laughter in pubs, sarcastic jabs on his unruly hair, excessive explanations of sports matches in one moment, and pretending to be interested in random gossip in the next. Harry didn’t know that love could feel so free.
It had been easier than he’d thought, telling his friends about Theo. It didn’t hurt that his only real friend was Hermione and she was just happy to see her friend grow from a broken, war-torn child to a happy, healthy adult.
But there was one point that Hermione had made, in pure Hermione Granger fashion, that Harry could not seem to move past. When were the two of them going to go public with their relationship? Harry hadn’t really taken the time to think about it if he was honest with himself. Really, Harry didn’t think anyone had the right to know. But he also knew that if the two of them did not announce their relationship on their own terms, the press would spin their own story.
When the conversation had been brought up with Theo, just as they’d begun moving Theo’s wardrobe in with Harry’s, Theo scrunched his nose and looked at Harry skeptically before saying. “I really only see us as friends, Potter.”
Harry had rolled his eyes before placing his lips on the Slytherin’s and showing him just how friendly they were.
---
In the weeks that passed, Harry was sure of two things: number one, he wanted to do something to tell the world that he was insanely in love with Theodore Nott, and, number two, Hermione Granger was sleeping with Draco Malfoy and trying, poorly, to hide it from him.
He decided to kill two birds with one stone by showing up to Hermione’s one morning unannounced. He had attempted to Floo-call her, but it was closed off - something the witch hardly ever did. So he had instead Apparated to her front door with the intention of catching the two of them.
Knocking loudly, he could hear scrambling on the other side, and, when the door finally swung open, he saw Hermione looking disheveled, blocking his view from the inside of her home.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, closing the door when Harry tried to look around her. “I wanted to visit my friend,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Can I come in?”
Hermione shook her head, and it was then that he noticed she was not wearing any trousers.
“I’m actually about to leave, so y-you can’t come in.” Hermione replied, in what Harry recognized as her ‘attempting to be casual tone’.
As Harry’s eyes traveled down to her bare legs once again, she followed his gaze and released a shriek. He let out a loud laugh and decided to leave, he would expose them soon enough. What he didn’t realize, however, was that the answer he had been seeking would reveal itself just hours later in the form of Draco Malfoy.
Harry had decided to visit Theo during his lunch break, knowing that he often opted to take lunch breaks around the same time as Draco. But, when Harry arrived, he found Malfoy brewing alone.
“He isn’t here, Potter, so I suggest you leave,” Harry smirked and walked further into their work station. He heard Malfoy sigh audibly before setting down his ingredients. “You have precisely one minute and forty seconds before this potion turns a dark shade of blue and becomes ineffective, and if you ruin my potion, I will cause you bodily harm.”
“I know you’re sleeping with Hermione,” Harry stated, watching Draco’s expression change.
“Yes, but she doesn’t want you to know,” Draco confirmed, turning his eyes back to the potion. “Fifty-nine seconds,”
“I want to do something to announce Theo and I being together,” Harry said.
Draco let out a snort and stirred his potion counterclockwise thrice before replying. “And this has what to do with me exactly?”
“We’re friends-”
“-We are not friends, you fu-”
“-And, since you’ve been friends with Theo forever, I need your advice,” Harry finished, not taking Malfoy’s insults.
Draco glared at Harry for a few seconds before reaching for something on the workbench and putting it into the potion. Silence fell between the two of them and Harry watched Draco’s every move until he let out a loud sigh.
“Theo likes grand gestures and attention,” Draco drawled, keeping his eyes on the potion. “Find something to stroke his ego and he’ll be over the moon.”
“Thank-”
“Just get the fuck out, Potter, it’s bad enough I have to see you when I spend time with Theo, I don’t want to see you when I’m working as well.” Draco snapped as he added in what looked like the last of the ingredients.
As Harry walked out of the work station, he turned back to Draco and let out a sigh. “The Great Gatsby is her favorite book, you’d probably win her over if you read it,” Harry offered, knowing he had won Malfoy over when he slumped his shoulders.
Without another word, Harry sauntered out of Draco’s lab. He had some planning to do.
---
Soon after, but not soon enough in Harry’s opinion, a perfect opportunity arose - The Leaky Cauldron was advertising an open mic night.. In any normal circumstance Harry would turn his nose to the idea, but knowing Theo and his need for attention, Harry couldn’t resist.
Harry recalled a time when Theo had convinced him to see a live band in Muggle London one weekend. As they listened to the music, Theo had announced that there was nothing sexier than a musician. At the time Harry had laughed it off, amused that his friend was so comfortable in his own skin. He had never imagined back then that there would be a time when he would need to remember such a thing, but he was lucky he had.
He devised a plan with Hermione regarding learning how to play the guitar and also managed to find a vocal instructor in Muggle London. When the time came that Harry had felt ready to show his talents to the world, the open mic night was upon them. After much begging, Harry had even managed to persuade Draco and Hermione to come to the Leaky Cauldron with them, separately as they still had not announced their relationship to anyone. All of the pieces were put into place, all he needed to do was set them into motion.
“I’m not going,” Theo said dramatically, throwing himself onto their mattress. Harry came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. “I think I’ll die from the secondhand embarrassment.”
“What are you on about?” Harry asked as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
“This open mic night,” Theo explained, leaning on to his elbows to drink in the sight of Harry.
“If we don’t go, you can’t make fun of them like I know you want to.” He could hear Theo release a sigh from the bed and he knew he had won him over.
Nervousness crept up his throat as he thought about the possibility of this ending badly, he swallowed them down, deciding he would simply hope for the best.
An hour later Harry and Theo stood outside of the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Hermione and Draco.
“Do you think they’ll finally tell us they’re shagging?” Theo asked as he finished off his cigarette.
Harry’s nose instinctively wrinkled as the smoke wafted into his nostrils. He had never been a fan of smoking, but there was something about watching the way Theo smoked that drove Harry mad.
Harry shook his head as Theo crushed the cigarette with his foot. “I don’t think so.” He hadn’t mentioned the run-in with Malfoy a few weeks ago, not wanting to ruin the surprise of tonight.
As the two of them made their way into the pub, he saw a plethora of people he recognized. Anxiety began to prickle his skin, but the reassuring squeeze of Theo’s hand eased his nerves.
“Oh no,” Theo groaned as they found a booth to settle into. Harry looked at him expectantly, though waited patiently, as Theo dramatically laid his head on the table. “Millicent is here, she used to do an awful stand-up act in the common rooms. Not even Peeves would laugh at her jokes, eventually, he began throwing tomatoes at her.”
“That was actually Crabbe, Goyle, and I,” Draco said, causing the two of them to look up at him.
Draco forced his way into the booth beside Theo as there was no fucking way he would subject himself to sitting beside Harry. As the three of them fell into idle chatter, Hermione rushed to their table, a large love bite displayed on her neck as she wore her hair in a low bun, apologizing for being late. No one said anything, though no one had needed to, as Theo looked at Harry and sent him an exaggerated wink. A blush crept onto Hermione’s cheeks and she quickly fixed her hair, covering the spot on her neck.
As the night carried on, they watched numerous witches and wizards get onto the stage to display their talents. Each performance earned a rating from Theo, a telltale sign that he was enjoying himself, despite his denial.
When there was a break in the people volunteering, Harry’s eyes skimmed the table before he let out a breath. “What do you say about one of us going up there?” Harry asked eyes on Theo who let out a snort.
“Going on that stage has to be just about the most embarrassing thing anyone could do,” Theo replied curling his lips in distaste. “I’d rather throw up on my dragonhide boots.”
Hermione gave Harry a sideways glance and sneakily reached under the table to squeeze his hand in encouragement.
“It’s almost as embarrassing as wearing wire-rimmed glasses and having a ridiculous scar on your forehead.” Malfoy chimed in, causing Hermione and Harry to glare at him in unison. When Malfoy winced, Harry assumed Hermione had kicked him under the table.
“I think… I think I’m going to go up there.” Harry began.
Malfoy snorted once again. “He really is a slut for attention.”
Hermione picked up her wand and silently hexed the blonde in one fluid motion. Harry would have laughed if he’d not been staring at Theo’s wide green eyes, a clear look of distaste on his features. It may have been enough to deter him from going up altogether, but the glint in Theo’s eyes told him that he was testing him. He wanted to see if Harry would falter, but Harry was not going to take the bait.
“You are going to go up there and embarrass yourself, and by association myself, publicly?” Theo asked, curling his lip in distaste.
“Don’t you think it would be fun?” Harry countered with a raised eyebrow.
“I think it will be so fun to watch my boyfriend publically humiliate himself. I find that neither scary nor pathetic.” Theo joked, eyes widening even further when Harry clapped his hands and got to his feet. He shoved his hand into his pocket and enlarged the guitar stowed away in there. “You brought a fucking guitar, you have to be kidding me. This is so absurd, Merlin , people are staring. If you become a laughing stock I’ll be forced to leave you. I don’t care how huge your co- ow!” Theo glared at Hermione who seemed to have sent the same wordless hex at Theo.
“Well, go on,” Hermione shooed, waving her hands in the direction of the stage.
As Harry approached the stage he noticed that the volume of the pub had quieted significantly. He took a step up to the stage and cleared his throat when he looked over the crowd. “H-Hello, everyone.” A few people chanted out hello’s but Harry’s gaze was zeroed in on the green-eyed wizard who sat with his arms crossed and bottom lip protruded. Fuck if he didn’t love him already.
Harry took a deep breath before saying, “The song I’m going to play tonight is dedicated to someone very special in my life, uh, Theo Nott.” Harry pretended to glance out in the crowd as a few gasps left the mouthes of patrons. “There he is!” Harry smiled over at him when his eyes locked onto Theo’s. Silently telling him all of the things he was too afraid to voice out loud.
I love you.
I need you.
You saved me.
With a thick swallow, Harry began to strum the chords on his guitar. “I call you when I need you and my heart’s on fire…” Harry glanced into the crowd to see Hermione place a hand on Theo’s shoulder and whisper something into his ear. A smile began to form on Harry’s face when he realized that Theo was so enamored with Harry’s performance he hardly acknowledged the witch beside him.
“You come to me wild and wired. You come to me, give me everything I need….”
“Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams, speak the language of love like you know what it means…”
As Harry sang the words to the song, the same song that had played all those months ago when Theo admitted he thought musicians were sexy, he watched as the wizard before him slowly began to thaw. He could see from across the pub as Theo’s eyes began to sheen over. And when the song finally came to a close, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Harry made his way off the stage, running into the crowd of people who all seemed to want to greet him. He tried his best not to let his irritation show when the crowd thickened, creating a bigger barrier from the person he wanted to see. When he finally managed to squeeze past the crowd of people, Theo stood at the edge of their table, arms crossed over his chest.
“Where’d they go?” Harry asked and Theo tipped his head toward Hermione and Draco who were attempting to sneak off to the bathrooms. Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste before turning back to Theo, his eyes looking upward as Theo had a slight height advantage on him. “Actually don’t tell me.”
“I can’t believe you embarrassed yourself in front of all of those people,” Theo said, trying painfully hard to hide his smile.
“I’m sure your reputation will never recover,” Harry agreed, softly laughing when Theo wiped the corner of his eye. Theo turned his head to see a few patrons staring at them.
“Well, the secret is certainly out now,” Theo said, gesturing to the crowd of people. “Surely we’ll be on the cover of tomorrow’s Prophet.”
“If the Prophet has nothing better to write about than how in love with you I am,” he heard Theo let out a soft gasp, they hadn’t yet said those words to one another, “then we might as well give them something good to say.”
With that, Harry pushed up onto his toes and pressed his lips firmly to Theo’s. And as he kissed him so openly he realized that this… this was freedom.
All of Harry’s life he had been unknowingly taught how to die, but Theodore Nott showed him how to live.