Title: Temporary Insanity
Summary: Harry is fed up; at the end of his tether, rope, bicycle chain; whatever, all he knows is that he has had it! He's done with the Wizarding world. He announces this to a packed great hall during breakfast. Time-line: Set at the beginning of fifth year, spoilers for all seven books.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. No money was made in the writing of this.
Authors Note: Though this includes a pairing for Harry, you the reader can decide whether to interpret it as het or slash.
Thank you so much for the reviews. This chapter is dedicated to BELLE, as my first reviewer and Slytherin66 and T, for your inspiring feedback.
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Fudge and his corrupt administration were unsuccessful in their efforts to conceal both the discovery of the dead Dark Lord and the arrest of the very much alive (posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin) Peter Pettigrew.
The Press had an absolute field day.
A rapturous reporter eagerly penned the soon-to-be front page article, manually, no quick-quotes quill needed in her ferocious exposé of the ministry. A wicked grin stretched across her face and an evil glint glowed in her eyes. At the Daily Prophet head quarters, vicious cackling was heard coming from the senior office, startling the junior journalists.
There was an almighty uproar from the duplicitous magical public as people's views instantly changed. The ex-minister and his lackeys were lucky to escape with just minor injuries from the mob camped out in the Atrium; the figures in the ornate fountain were used as projectiles by the irate public.
The fugitive Sirius Black was exonerated, compensated and presented with the Order of Merlin. Overnight the reinstated Head of the House of Black became a roguish heart-throb hero. He has since featured in every edition of Witch Weekly's Most Sexiest Wizards and has been the recipient the Outstanding Arse Award, thrice.
When Black visits Magical locations, the 'Seriously Sexy Sirius' leaves a trail of unconscious women, they squeal and swoon when they see him, light headed and with their hearts fluttering they faint dead away.
An immense quantity of fan mail is delivered to the 'Black Beauty', from the mundane to the risqué; an example of the latter involves scarlet underwear, a muggle blow up doll and magical moving photographs.
If asked about the shocking mail, he flushes and denies all knowledge.
As for the calculating and conniving Dumbledore, the incident was judged as an accident since no hexes were found on the Hogwarts' staircase.
It cemented the old man's persona as a careless crackpot because the headmaster must have been irresponsibly drunk, when he took a tumble over the banister head first. Like an apple falling from the highest branch, he smacked into the ground below, the force of the impact reverberated, fracturing the marble and caused the professor to lose his head, quite literary.
The doddering old fool's funeral was a quiet and rushed affair, the magical world being too concerned with the hunt for Harry.
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No one knows how Harry ended the war that never really got the chance to begin again, though there have been many theories, each more outlandish and absurd than the last.
For five years, based on the last known words of the Vanquisher-of-Voldemort, people have scoured the rolling green hills and white frosted mountains of Switzerland, searching for the saviour.
The landlocked country has become a Wizarding holiday hotspot. There are tours, like Muggles visiting Loch Ness, witches and wizards from across the world hope to catch a glimpse of the elusive legend.
An animated pocket sized Potter-Doll (that yodels) dressed in lederhosen, is one of the more popular of the Boy-Who-Lived merchandise.
Happy to be in the limelight as the 'best friend' of Harry Potter, Ron divulged all his dealings with the Boy-Turned-Muggle. The autobiography was an instant number-one best seller.
In the epic saga, Ron is the gifted, handsome and heroic adventurer, who constantly saved the day, in spite of Harry's comically clumsy attempts. Meanwhile, the dubious honour of being portrayed as the clueless tag-along and sometime air-headed damsel in distress belongs to Hermione.
Hermione and Ron are not on speaking terms.
The last time Hermione saw 'the weasel' was three weeks ago at a disastrous cocktail party.
That delightful evening resulted in the following; her newly wedded husband received a black eye from a Neanderthal, Hermione broke her heel, Ron ended up with bruised knuckles, being kicked in the balls and covered in white wine. Some of which splashed onto his 'dim-witted, glory hound of a floozy who wouldn't know common sense if it painted itself green and orange, danced on her head to the tunes of the Weird Sisters, while waving pom-poms in the air'.
Hermione was quoted in the Daily Prophet's celebrity section. Lavender Brown filed a lawsuit against 'the ferret's wife' for slander, but the case was dropped after she was laughed out of court.
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Thousands of miles away, the sun streaked turquoise ocean glittered. Frothy white surf softly pattered against the rolling waves until it reached the beach and smoothly ran up the sun bleached sand.
Harry lay sprawled on a hammock, strung between two palm trees in front of his house on the beach, gently swinging in the cool breeze streaming in from the shore.
He pondered on that first day of his new life. When the temporary insanity had departed, it had come as a bit of a blow to say the very least once he thought about what he had done, all he had given up, all that he had left behind. He recalled how he sat in the sand, stunned, head bowed in shock and sorrow, both hands clenched tightly in his hair.
However, he did not have time to wallow in despair as he heard the loud crack of apparition and a goblin appeared in front of him.
Harry was then rudely informed that Gringotts did not cater to Muggles. Thus, his trust and family vault monies had been transferred to a local muggle bank and in order do so with the maximum efficiency he had been emancipated, made citizen of the country and here were the details, the goblin thrust papers into his hand and disapperated.
That was the last-
Suddenly, a shadow blocked the sun from his eyes, the change in light disturbing him from his thoughts; he looked up.
"What are you thinking about?" the person standing over him inquired, head tilted to the side, as wet golden hair shone in the sunlight, the corners of the beautiful blue eyes crinkled slightly as Harry looked upon the rest of the tempting figure; suntanned caramel skin glistened, like brown spun sugar.
'You are absolutely stunning,' he reflected, 'and I'm in love with you.'
"...Well?"
Harry licked his lips and replied, "I have forgotten, all previous thought has left me, you took that along with my breath away."
...
...
"You're hoping to get laid aren't you?"
"Quite possibly"
His partner of two years laughed, blue eyes flashing, lips upturned in a wry smile "Well you might be in luck tonight. Move over a bit, I want to lie down."
Harry shuffled to one side, right foot resting on the sand to stop tipping over, as his lover, cooled from the seawater, got on the hammock. He wrapped an arm around the person who was supposed to have been a fling whilst on their vacation, and lifted his leg back onto the hammock.
He turned his face towards the tousled copper and gold hair, closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of sun, saltwater and the indefinable scent that was his love.
Underneath the hammock, a letter lay on the sand, held down by a smooth dark pebble as the parchment fluttered slightly in the breeze.
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Hmm... I'm not happy with this, may scrap it and redo it.
Anyway, all feedback is very welcome and much appreciated, so please review, Thank you. Also, this is unbetaed so point out any mistakes.