Chapter 1

Hatake Kakashi doesn't really frequent bars.

It's not that he can't handle his liquor or anything. He's a seasoned jounin, after all, and sometimes the job requires both alcohol and keeping a level head. But the whole bar scene isn't really his thing. As a matter of fact, some colleagues (and Team 7) and clients aside, human interaction as a whole isn't really his thing.

Occasionally he'll join his fellow jounin for a few drinks, but that's because Gai won't stop singing about the Flames of Youth until he gives in, and he's already had too many complaints from his neighbors about noise ordinances.

Tonight is one such night. Kakashi sits at the bar, partially ignoring Gai's prideful boasting about his student Neji's recent jounin promotion. It only makes him think about his own students, and how he'd failed them. Sasuke defected and is now under the tutelage of the creepiest sannin. Sakura is his only student to make it to chunin, but the fact of the matter is that he cannot claim her successes as being a result of his teaching. And Naruto?

He'd failed his sensei's son most of all.

Kakashi knocks back another cup of sake. It burns going down, but that's okay. Sometimes he needs that burn to take the edge off; to remind him that he's still alive.

"I will never understand how you eat and drink without anyone seeing your face."

Kakashi turns to see Asuma taking the seat next to him. The other jounin lights a cigarette and takes a puff.

"It's a talent," Kakashi mutters.

Asuma shakes his head in amusement. They sit in relative silence as Gai's exuberant cries in the background get louder. The bar is full and buzzing with activity. Every time Asuma turns his attention longingly towards Kurenai, Kakashi finishes another drink.

It's after his sixth round of sake that he notices her. She's seated at the other side of the bar next to three medium bottles of plum sake and a half-eaten order of karaage. She's beautiful with her pale skin and long, unruly black hair.

As if sensing his eyes on her, she looks up and their eyes meet.

It's disgustingly cliché, but her eyes are the greenest he's ever seen. They stare at each other long enough for him to raise his sake. She blinks before a smirk dances across her face and she raises her own.

They down the sake, and she stares at him as she licks a few drops off her lips. Kakashi follows the movements of her tongue with interest, and he sets down his glass and abruptly stands up.

Asuma blinks in surprise, but then he follows Kakashi's line of sight and lets out a bark of laughter. "Who woulda thought Sharingan no Kakashi can be as human as the rest of us?"

Kakashi casually flips him off, but otherwise says nothing and stalks towards the woman that caught his eye.

He notes that the attraction he feels towards her is clearly mutual as she trails her eyes over him, briefly scanning his hitai-ate and jounin flak jacket before focusing on his face. She doesn't really pay attention to his mask, not like most other civilians do (and it's pretty obvious that she's not a kunoichi2, considering that he can feel miniscule chakra levels). Instead, she stares into his one visible eye, and in that moment he feels like she's judging his very soul.

She must find whatever it is that she's looking for because her foot kicks at the stool next to him in an open invitation. Kakashi sits and deftly orders another round of sake. They're both quiet as they drink in companionable silence.

She turns to him after she licks sake from her lips. He finds it very distracting. "Hari," she says softly, extending her hand.

It's an odd name, foreign and exotic, but he already guessed that she was not from Konoha.

He stares at it for a moment before grasping it with his own, oddly pleased at how warm her hand feels. "Kakashi," he returns gruffly. He nods towards the empty bottles. "Don't have anywhere to be tomorrow?"

Hari smirks, but there's a hard edge to it. "Not in the morning, no." Her eyes flash darkly. "Tonight is all about forgetting."

Kakashi takes a moment to study her further. He could tell she was beautiful from across the room, and it's certainly no different up close and personal, but he can see something else about her. There's a harshness in her eyes, a despair that he can only relate all too well to. Maybe that's why he's so drawn to her; he can sense a kindred spirit. Misery fucking loves company, after all.

"Want some help with that?"

Hari lets out a bark of laughter, and it immediately softens her expression. He doesn't take offense, knowing she's laughing more at his bold words than him, but he also knows that if he takes her to bed she would be making other noises throughout the night. He says as much to her, and she eyes him and lets her eyes trail over his body. Kakashi leans back a little, not at all abashed or ashamed. He looks good, and he knows it.

Her eyes snap back up to his face, and there goes that ridiculously endearing little smirk on her face again. She worries her lower lip before she gives a swift nod and stands up. Hari reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a few bills, carelessly throwing them on the table and walking out.

His gaze falls downward, and he is delighted to note that her ass looks as good as the rest of her. It sways as she exits the bar, and Kakashi can only stare at it slightly mesmerized.

A sharp whistle catches his attention, and he turns to see a slightly baffled Asuma raise a glass to him. He smirks in amusement and nods towards his fellow ninja before he follows Hari.

(Before the night is over, they've definitely made use of the bed and other surfaces.)

Hari wakes up with a jolt. It takes a few moments before her eyes clear and she's able to recognize that no, she's not in the Malfoy's dungeon anymore, and no, Fred and Sirius and a bunch of other people aren't screaming at her for causing their deaths.

Despite it being seven years ago, Hari Potter still isn't over the war. And yeah, she's got more reason than most to still be hung up over it, but Hari hates still feeling so weak after all of this time. She's tired of waking up screaming, and she's tired of always feeling like people are after her. Paranoia was most definitely her friend during the war while she was on the run, but the war is over.

Everyone around her seemed to be healing, putting one foot in front of the other, and building themselves back up. Everyone except her.

She takes in a shuddering breath and closes her eyes. Counts to ten, and when that doesn't work starts listing all of the ingredients in Dreamless Sleep. That's when her partner from last night makes himself known. Honestly, Hari expected him to take off before morning came. Maybe it's a little unfair to him, but she thought he was the bang 'em and ditch 'em type.

She turns to look at him. He already has his mask back in place, and he stares at her with an almost bored expression. There's an orange book in his hand, and Hari has been in Konoha long enough to know exactly what that book is. While most other females would be very upset by the blatant porn reading (and she's been in Konoha long enough to see self-righteous female fury at the series), Hari is personally amused and even a little intrigued by it.

"Is that where you learned to do that thing with your tongue?" she asks wryly, an innocent expression on her face.

"I don't need this to tell me what a woman likes," he replies in mock offense, his one open eye narrowing slightly.

Hari laughs a little. This is perhaps the weirdest morning after she's ever experienced, but she doesn't mind. It's better than some of the painfully awkward mornings she's had to endure. And some small part of her is glad to not be alone.

She glances at the clock on the wall; 11:27 am.

With a sigh, Hari stands on unsteady feet and makes her way to the bathroom. She catches her reflection in the mirror. The bags under her eyes aren't terribly noticeable, but she's too aware that they're there. Her long black hair is tangled and wild, but that's not necessarily out of the norm for her.

No, what makes her pause is how world-weary she looks. She's only twenty-five years old, but the look in her eyes makes her seem so much older.

She hesitates for a second and turns back, somewhat amused that Kakashi was very obviously staring at her naked backside. "You're welcome to join me," she offers.

Hari doesn't wait for an answer and instead walks into the shower.

The hot water is exactly what she needs to relax, and for a few minutes she simply enjoys the water cascading down her back. Hari washes her body and hair almost mechanically, as if she's just a puppet and someone else is pulling the strings.

The thought makes her sneer, and she banishes it before she can go down that rabbit hole.

The shower curtain is yanked back suddenly, and Kakashi steps in beside her. She didn't really pay attention last night (much too busy doing pleasurable things) but now she has the chance to study his body. He's obviously a ninja; his chest is nicely sculpted and he's all lean muscles and beautiful definition. There are an assortment of faded scars on him, but that doesn't bother her. It makes her think of her own scars, and how she got them.

She prefers not to dwell on that.

Hari reaches up and fingers the harsh scar going down his eye. She doesn't quite know why he lets her, but he does, and she traces it gently.

"Thank you," she says softly.

Kakashi says nothing, but she can see the question in his eye.

She gestures at his scars. "For your service," she says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It can't be easy, this path you've chosen. And it's often thankless—people are greedy and they expect the world from you and don't care what you have to sacrifice or do for their sake. And you do it anyways."

She knows all too well what that feels like. For years she was either the Wizarding world's messiah or pariah, depending on the Daily Prophet, and it's not fair. She's sacrificed so much to keep everyone safe, and most of the people didn't even deserve it. They were only too content to let someone else take care of their problems, regardless of the fact that she was a child when Voldemort returned and only on the cusp of adulthood when she killed him for good.

She's lost more and bled more than most. It was with the help of her friends that she was able to fulfill the prophecy, and even then it still nearly broke her. She's keeping herself together by a thread, and very much jaded. Some days are easier, and others not so much.

Hari doesn't know him, but she saw in his eyes last night that Kakashi is pretty much the same. It's what caught her attention.

Kakashi regards her for a moment. "You're not like other civilians."

Hari shrugs. "I wasn't always a civilian," she admits. "I've never been a ninja, but I've seen my share of combat."

I've seen friends killed in front of me.

I've been powerless to stop it.

The weight of the world has been on my shoulders, and miraculously I'm still standing.

Sometimes I don't know why.

I'm not sure if I deserve to.

Why me?

She doesn't say it, but she doesn't have to. He understands, and leans forward to capture her lips with his.

(They spend the rest of the shower not talking and not bathing. The water is cold by the time they're clean.)

"I'm pregnant."

Hari's eyes widen before she smiles. "I don't know why I'm surprised, but I am," she says. "I guess it just took so long for you and Ron to admit to liking each other that him getting you up the duff is slightly shocking. I honestly expected you both to start having kids in another decade or so. Then again, he is a Weasley."

"Hari!" Hermione scolds, but there's a playful glint in her eyes and a smile on her face.

"How'd he take it?" Hari asks.

Hermione's eyes soften further, if that's even possible. "Really well," she admits with a tenderness that makes Hari's heart ache.

She's happy for her friends, tremendously so, but that doesn't stop bad memories from coming to the surface. As if aware of the dark turn her thoughts took, Hermione suddenly seems too aware of her happiness, and she tries to tone it down but Hari won't let her.

"Have you thought of any names?" she asks, bright and maybe a little fake.

Hermione doesn't quite buy it, but doesn't voice it. "We were thinking of Rose for a girl or Hugo for a boy."

Hari laughs and teases, "Twins run in the family. What if you're having two?"

Hermione blanches as if the thought never occurred to her, and Hari laughs more genuinely. "That's not funny."

"It is on my end," Hari insists.

Talking with Hermione almost always brings a sense of calmness to Hari. She doesn't regret leaving England, not one bit, but she does miss some parts of home. She would've stayed in the Wizarding world for her friends, but they knew staying was slowly killing her. Hermione was the one to suggest an entirely different country for her to get her fresh start.

Although keeping in touch via mirror calls isn't exactly the same, Hari will take that over nothing.

"Will you be the godmother?" Hermione asks suddenly.

Hari stills. She stares at Hermione in shock. "Me?" she whispers. "I…I don't know if you want me, Hermione."

"Nonsense," Hermione replies crisply. "You're the greatest woman I know. Why wouldn't I want you?"

"I'm not exactly…godmother material," Hari says quietly.

Hermione shakes her head sharply, her brown eyes flashing angrily. "If anything is to happen to Ron or myself, you would be the very best person to care for our child. Andromeda can't see that because she's a bitter woman too blinded by her pain to respect her daughter and son-in-law's wishes, and there will come a day when she has to answer to that."

Hari ducks her head and bites her lip hard. Teddy is a sore subject for her. She wants more than anything to be a part of his life as his godmother, but his grandmother had strictly objected. "You're too dangerous to be around him," the woman had said coldly.

It stung more than anything, and part of Hari thought she was right. She was very dangerous to be around—the people she loved the most tended to get hurt. Even Ron and Hermione hadn't been immune, but they'd still stuck with her regardless.

"I…" Hari cuts herself off. Her throat is tight and she can feel the tears well up in her eyes.

Hermione smiles softly. "There's a lot of people that I trust, but none more so than you, Hari," she says.

One tear escapes, then two, and then she's quietly crying because just what the fuck did she do to deserve such wonderful friends who still believed in her despite everything?

She wipes her tears away and nods. "I'd be honored," she says thickly.

There's nothing more to say after that.

A/N: This idea came to me after reading stories from Tsume Yuki's genie prompt, particularly 'Can Your Friends Do This?' Please let me know what you think. This is cross - posted on AO3 (which has the naughtier version). Thanks for reading!