Author's notes:
Standard disclaimer, I own nothing. It all belongs to JKR.
This is just a little something that bit me after reading a number of similar stories and I thought I'd give it a try. You can assume the story is canon compliant up to the just about the end of Harry's rescue of Ginny in Chamber of Secrets. It goes AU when he falls unconscious before Fawkes arrives to drip tears in the wound on his arm.
Oh, and Gabrielle Delacour is a few years older than in canon.
This is a stand alone story not related in any way to any of my other works
I'm going to be posting very short chapters. Don't worry though, the story is complete and I'll post a chapter a day.
Enjoy,
Sorcerer's Muse
Finally, Peace.
Chapter I
Sirius Would Have Been Proud
Harry Potter, twenty-three years old and six months off a breakup from his longtime girlfriend pulled his car, a 2003 Porsche 911 Carrera into the parking spot and killed the engine. The car had been a splurge, and an impulse, and a whole bunch of other things he was certain she would have chastised him for. She still would, he was sure. They were friends still. It would be rather impossible for them to not. Not to mention more than a bit sad given what they'd gone through together. But one night, six months ago while sitting in their flat, they'd both looked at each other and just known.
He'd packed a bag the next morning and, after ensuring his name was removed from the lease and paying the next year's rent, he'd left. He hadn't known where he was going. There'd been no plan. He'd just started walking. Money, see the previous mention of ensuring his now ex's rent was paid up for a year, wasn't really an issue and he'd always dreamed of just leaving so he had. He hadn't dreamed of leaving her so much. Really he'd kind of figured she'd be coming with him. But when the time came, she wasn't. And he'd been fine with that. Or maybe he hadn't. She would certainly think the car had been a sign something wasn't right. No matter how rich someone was they didn't often happen to walk by a dealership, spot a gleaming hunk of the most gorgeous red metal they'd ever seen and two hours later drive away some 60k lighter in the pocket, did they?
Harry figured Sirius would have been proud.
And he hadn't regretted it once in the six months since. Ok, maybe once or twice when it might have been nicer to have stretched out in a van when he'd slept in the car – bucket seats really were meant only for driving – but only then. He loved the car and even though he'd been tempted at the time to go for the far more expensive GT2 Turbo he hadn't regretted the decision to exercise some small restraint and stick with the manual six cabriolet. She would have been proud of him… Ok, maybe that was going a bit far, but he didn't have to answer to her any longer and it had felt good. He hated to say it, but ending their relationship had been the casting off of the last chain holding him back from a freedom he'd never known. It'd been good for him. He hoped it was good for her as well.
It seemed like it; in the letters they'd exchanged. There hadn't been many at all the first few months. But gradually now it was twice a month Archimedes would catch up with wherever his wanderings had taken him and a few days later he'd send the owl winging back to her. She still worried for him, and him for her. Which was nice; because there weren't too many people left who did. So it was good the feeling was reciprocated. He'd actually wondered the other day what he might feel if one of her letters came and told him she had gone on a date, or was even seeing someone. The thought hadn't been enough for him to point his car back to England though and that must mean he was good with it. Or so he thought. Maybe he wouldn't know for certain till that event happened. Whatever, she was still there. Working as the Hogwarts' Librarian and he was still here. Looking out the windscreen at the waves rolling from in from the Atlantic.
It'd been two months ago while in Lacanau France where the bug had bit. He'd spent nearly every subsequent day feeding the obsession. Surfing was just… well, it was all the clichés a person could come up with and still none of them did it justice. Surfing just was. And he'd immersed himself in it ever since. He had two boards now, affixed to a carrier on top of his car. Yes, he conceded he would never be allowed in any porsche owners club anywhere… ever, for his blasphemy, but we've already been over his love of the car so trading it in for something that was a bit more practical to the lifestyle just wasn't going to happen. There was enough room in the passenger seat and small boot for his tent, clothes and whatever other gear he needed and he was good.
That wasn't to say there weren't issues here and there. There were rules, unwritten ones, to the sport and it could be a bit hard on newbies. Every beach had its regulars, dudes who'd been surfing there for years and they sometimes tended to think they owned the place because of it. Few things could ruin a day faster than being the newbie jumping a wave a local wanted. That was why he was here now. Guincho beach in Portugal was supposed to be a great spot for beginners like himself. Looking out on the water it seemed as good as advertised. He could count a good two-dozen or more surfers in the ocean but there was plenty of room and in the twenty minutes he watched there didn't seem to be any issues between any of them.
"Right then," he said to himself, opening the door. The Confundus Charm he'd cast on the car extended far enough he was able to cast the Sunblock Charm without drawing any suspicion from various passersby. He debated a bit on the half-suit, but it was plenty warm and he could see only one person, easily spotted from afar by her bright red hair, wearing one so he tossed his tee shirt in the car and slammed the door.
Author's notes:
So there ya go. Short, I know but chapter 2 comes tomorrow.
While the places named in the story are real, I've never been to any of them so details are just from my imagination.
Please remember to review. Thanks!