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You have heard of the stages of grief. We are all such experts on pain, aren’t we? We talk and philosophise and intellectualise, all so we don’t have to actually feel it.
Let’s look at it again, yes?
Denial
Harry is glad he saved the world and didn’t permanently die. Really.
The world is worth saving, isn’t it? Even if the world he died for isn’t the one he saved. Still worth it. Still glad.
The nightmares aren’t even that bad. Everyone has them, a natural consequence of the war. Harry will learn to deal, like everyone else.
Anger
Would it kill them to show a little respect? Some consideration? Can’t they understand Harry has nightmares about this, about being hounded and pressed for answers?
Is this what Harry died for? To forever remember Hermione's screams? Ron’s helpless horror when he couldn’t help her? To remember the bodies and the deaths and the senseless agonies?
He doesn’t go to the pub that evening, though he promised Ron that he would. If someone even mentioned taking his picture, he would punch them. And that is not what Harry saved them for.
Bargaining
Malfoy doesn’t comment as he pushes the vial over the counter. He smiles at Harry, blandly, like he doesn’t even recognise him.
“Choose them wisely,” is all he says, but Harry feels understood. He figures it makes sense—Malfoy would know all about wanting to forget an unsavoury past.
Harry nods; he has plenty memories to choose from.
For the first time in a year, hearing Hermione’s laughter doesn’t make him sad.
He accepts Molly’s dinner invitation, finally. She is so happy she barely lets him leave again.
He even braves the public! He doesn’t remember what he forgot, but surely the ice cream is worth it.
Depression
Turns out the world is still terrible. Saving it didn’t do anything at all.
No one learnt anything, everyone is traumatised, and Harry still doesn’t sleep. There are too many memories, too many things he wishes he could forget.
Malfoy expects him by now, his order always ready, but there are ever more. More nightmares, more potions, more blank looks from Malfoy.
None of it helps; the world is exhausting, and Harry so tired.
Acceptance
The answer to a good life is caring less. Harry knows that now. And because Harry cares so terribly much, about everything—Ron told him that, drunk and passionate—the only answer was to know less to care about.
So far the note on the fridge, explaining the potions. They also comment on the clerk, and his bland smile, but Harry never saw that.
Harry wonders why he had to forget about him.