Chapter Text
October 1st – 2001
The rain had already been pouring relentlessly for hours when Harry finally escaped its arms and entered the establishment. Although is cloak was soaked, he barely noticed the cold wetness, nor did he take particular notice of where exactly he was. As had become his habit in the past months, Harry had wandered the streets of London. Ever since… everything, Harry had had a hard time adjusting to a normal, and sometimes boring life. At first he had relished in his new gained freedom: being able to go on dates with Ginny as any other teenager his age would, or go back to school and, for the first time in seven years, not worry about saving the world.
But while he felt as if everyone around him settled into this new – their old – world, Harry felt lost. Unsure of what he wanted to do with his future he turned to what was most familiar to him: Defense Against the Dark Arts. The Aurors Program welcomed him with open arms and for a short period of time he felt settled. Yes, he had experience no one else in his class could claim, but after 7 months each morning filled him with a dread he could not place and after the 8th months Harry handed in his resignation.
Next, he turned to Quidditch, another familiar thing. This phase was even more short lived; the buzz of reporters and their never-ending questions made him quit before the first game. Harry could not stand to be put in the spotlight, everyone pretending to know exactly what he felt and thought.
So he went back to Grimmauld Place, its gloomy halls feeling like the gentle embrace of a past lover. Here, away from everyone’s eyes and attention, he spent many restless nights. Harry knew he had enough funds to never have to work again, but the mere thought lay like a heavy boulder in his stomach. He wanted to do something, he had to do something. But how could he possibly do anything when everyone still expected so much of him? To marry Ginny as soon as possible and have adorable little children who could be featured on the front page of the Daily Prophet, and to be a brilliant wizard and do something extraordinary, to prove his worth as Dumbledore’s heir.
Harry did not feel like doing or being any of those things. And so it came that he started wandering the streets, preferably of muggle London, where no one knew him and he could spent his time watching people and contemplate his life.
It was on one of those walks, this cold and rainy October 1st, that he stumbled across a little hidden pub where his life would, for once, change for the better.