A/N: This update is in part to announce the start of the posting of The Revised Chronicles of Those-Who-Lived, which will be posted as it's own story. Go ahead and read that instead of this, but this just rounds out where people are three years later.
Those-Who-Lived: Afterwards
July 21st, 2000
Harry stretched and strode up the front walk to the door of Potter Manor. The grand building rose four stories high, and two balconies jutted out over the front porch. There were two people, standing and talking on the one to the right, and Harry stopped, recognizing one. He whistled sharply.
Nanna turned and leaned over the railing with a yelp. "Harry! You're back!"
"Yeah, brat."
"I'm Quidditch Captain, now!" She yelled. "Show a little respect!"
"Maybe once you leave school!" He yelled back. "Is Mum and Dad home?"
"Mum's home; Dad's arguing with Frank at work." She yelped again and spun on the boy sharing the space. "Dammit, Dillan! Stop that!"
"I'll see you inside." Harry shook his head and walked through the front door. He found one of the house elves waiting with his trunk. "Thanks, Findley. Can you send it to the guest room?"
"Of course, Master Harry."
He brushed past without waiting to see it done, simply happy to be home. He stretched again – it had been a long trip by boat and portkey both, and he'd apparated once he was on British soil – and wandered towards the kitchens. He got there at the same time as his sister.
"I thought you'd be past the eat-everything-in-sight phase." She griped, pulling open a cupboard to find herself some crisps. Dillan was standing at the doorway, clearly uncomfortable.
Harry leaned against the counter and grinned, a roll halfway in his mouth. He tore it in half and finished chewing. "Nanna, I've grown two inches since I left school. Give me a break."
"It's been two years!" She whined again, pulling open the fridge.
"You're still growing yourself!" Harry argued. "Merlin, Nanna, you've grown another inch since I last saw you!" He glanced at Dillan and grinned. "Nice to see you again. You looking forward to seventh year?"
Dillan was in much the same boat, height-wise. The younger boy was nearing six feet in height after a growth spurt last year. He shrugged, still quiet. "It's sounds alright. The NEWT classes are interesting."
"That's nice. Nanna, are you still trying to be an Auror?"
"Yes!" She answered from within the fridge. "Harry, is there – you wouldn't know, you just got home. How was… Where were you again?"
"New Zealand." Harry answered. "It was coming into winter as I left. It's nice to be warm; it sent me straight from deep Autumn to summer." He rubbed his forehead. "I never want to take an international portkey again."
"You said that last time when you came home from the Philippines, and from Mongolia." Nanna hauled out some food. "You do realize Neville's waiting to hear from you?"
"I know. I thought he'd be busy, though. The Mediwizard Master was last described as a slave-driver, wasn't he?"
"That was Hermione's words, not Neville's. Of course, I've never seen someone with so many paper cuts..."
Harry laughed again and rolled his head back on his shoulders. "Oh, Hermione... She's still working on the archives?"
"Yes."
"Where is Mum?"
"Upstairs." Nanna shrugged. "Locked her door. I didn't bother her. She knew you were coming home around this time, so it's probably something urgent again."
"What's so urgent?" Harry frowned.
"Sirius wanted something, Severus wanted something, Lucille and Salvador needed another anti-nausea draught, and Theodore asked her for some cleaning solution or something. She and Severus have been really busy. Anyone who doesn't ask her for something out of your friends is asking the twins, although they stopped since they hexed the last person to ask." Nanna rolled her eyes. "I don't get it."
"So you're here, home alone with Dillan?" Harry grinned. His friends were always doing something.
"I stopped teasing you about taking Daphne and Susan to France, you can stop teasing me about Dillan."
"Fine!" Harry threw his hands in the air. "Seriously, Nanna-"
They were interrupted as a white owl came through the window and circled Harry's head. There were about eight envelopes in her claws, and the young wizard reached up and caught them with a wry grin. "Hey Hedwig. Missed me?"
She dropped onto his shoulder as he turned to flip through the parchments, finally opening the one from Theodore first and scanning through. Theodore was the one friend he saw the least when he was home, and probably had the most varied news.
As he'd expected, the young Lord Nott was writing about politics again. Harry only skimmed it, the subject only marginally interesting to him. He'd read it in depth later when he actually expected to visit with Theodore in person; politics hadn't had much bearing on his behaviour in the last two years. He wasn't going to bog himself down with it. He picked up enough to know that Scrimgeour wasn't exactly doing so well popularity-wise, and the next election looked to be up in the air – and that Theodore was looking to ingratiate himself with the hopefuls to start his own career forward.
Putting that aside, Harry flipped open Lucille and Salvador's. He smiled almost immediately: the two had gotten married the last time he was home, and had asked him for the best honeymoon spots. He'd recommended Paris and been teased non-stop about his trip right after seventh year with the two girls. As he glanced through, he found that apparently he had been gone more than long enough: Lucille was pregnant and if he'd read the dates right, was nearing her fourth month. They hadn't wasted any time.
The rest was just domestic bliss. Harry scanned the names on the others and sighed.
"Did everyone leave me letters?"
"You were gone nearly five months." Nanna glared. "I finished off Sixth year – Gryffindor won again, thank you – and it's almost your twentieth birthday. Of course they have news. You've barely been home eight months in the last two years."
"Nanna, I'm not going to stay home when there's nothing keeping me here-"
"Just because you're too damn scared to pick one girl-"
Harry threw his hands into the air and stalked out of the kitchen. He ground his teeth and stormed up the stairs. Nanna could drive him crazy! He got to the second floor and paused, glancing down the hall. His room would be there, if they hadn't reclaimed the guest room from him. His mother would be further upstairs. Harry turned and kept up another floor to the top and paused outside her labs. He only hesitated briefly before knocking.
"Oh, really now-" She started, then pulled open the door. Her mouth widened and she stopped, holding one hand out. "Oh, Harry! You're back already? I'm so sorry, I lost track of time and I thought-"
"It's okay, Mum." Harry smiled. "Nanna told me you were busy."
"Oh, yes." She looked back inside the room and swore, "Do you remember how to make a basic storm tincture, I have one going for the twins – they haven't perfected it yet, and can't quite get it to congeal at the end. I'm sure Slughorn taught you how in his NEWTs..."
Harry stepped forward to help, pulling down an apron and starting on the potions he could actually do. It kept him busy until evening. Three hours later, they both hung up their aprons and cleaned up, and his mother finally hugged him as she led the way downstairs, where an already crowded dining room awaited
"Harry!" Sirius called. "We thought we'd never get you and your mother out of there!"
Harry looked up and stepped forward, catching his godfather's eager hug. His father was already sitting down and talking with-
"Mrs. Zabini!" Harry greeted her, and then turned suspiciously to Sirius. "Please tell me you're not married."
Sirius threw his head back and laughed. "Of all the-! I'm allowed to bring over my lady friends, Harry. Like you can talk."
Harry blushed again and deflected the topic to how the Aurors were doing, a conversation that lasted the entire meal and beyond. Nobody asked him what his plans were, and no one tried to pin him down. Harry ignored the curious stares he got and moved the conversation on whenever it lagged, travelling from the Aurors, to bits and pieces of politics he'd gleaned from Theodore's letter, to the places he'd been in New Zealand.
He enjoyed the conversation. The future and their questions about it could wait.
IIII
The next morning was a Sunday, and Harry woke early – too early, as he was still recovering from the time change. He ate breakfast alone and took his Firebolt outside to entertain himself in the raw, grey light of dawn. He was still in the air two hours later when a few people apparated to the edges and raced towards the house on four legs. Harry dropped to the porch and waited with his arms crossed for the two horses – and their riders – to arrive.
"Hello Hermione, Ginny." Harry nodded, walking forward to catch Hermione's hand as she stumbled a little getting off. "I thought you had gotten horseback riding lessons," He teased.
"Yes." Hermione blushed again. "But it's not always that easy."
Neville changed back and shook his hair back – it was long enough to get in his eyes now, and apparently he liked it that way as it had been the same five months ago. "Yeah, she's doing good. Better than you last time you tried."
"I had another series of lessons just recently," Harry snorted. "I'm doing fine."
"And scaring small children when you change, yourself."
"Oh?" Harry rocked back on his heels, grinning, "And who is giving kids their pepper up potions at St. Mungo's?"
"I'm having a load of fun." Neville retorted. "Really Harry, just because you've got itchy feet-"
"Either way," Blaise interrupted them. "Let's get inside before everyone starts arriving."
Hermione and Neville agreed and Harry watched them go with a faint smile. Most of his friends were still the same. Neville was becoming a Mediwizard, Hermione was working with books and files and information in the Ministry's library. Blaise and most of the rest of the Slytherins were going into politics of some sort; and Alan...
Harry smiled and followed Neville and Blaise inside.
The drawing room was filling up. Almost everyone he knew from school was there – Morgen and Victoria in each other's arms, Lucille with a slightly rounded belly and apparently still showing off her ring. Harry walked past the doorway as Neville and everyone started talking excitedly and went upstairs to his room, giving himself some breathing room before he dove into another party like the one he'd had just before coming home, leaving behind the socialites of New Zealand.
He wasn't alone long. Standing on his balcony, he heard his door open and shut on the inside wall, and knew who it was that joined him at the railing. Harry turned around and sighed.
His companion jumped the conversation before he could, "If you're going to get on my case about being ridiculously tall still, you can forget it."
"I'm not, Alan," Harry laughed. "I'm happy being as tall as I am."
"Good."
Harry let the silence grow before asking, "Did Amaranth ever get your eye to stop rolling?"
"It's mostly good unless I forget." Alan shrugged. "Or unless I want to look out the back of my head." He popped the offending ball out and turned it so he could see, "Luna insisted on adding another pupil-and-iris with scar on the backside as some kind of party trick, and I've kept it – it helps when I end up explaining why I'm missing an eye at my age and that it's not just because I live at Salem."
Harry stifled a laugh. "Have you gotten it to see magic?"
"No." Alan shrugged, tossing the eye up and then holding his eye open to pop it back into his head. "Amaranth muttered something about regrets and everything – you'd think it wouldn't take him three years to settle down, but oh well."
Harry shook off the display – he was mostly used to it by now – and asked, "How's Luna?"
"Still not talking to me."
"That's going on..."
"Eight months." Harry felt Alan shrug. "It's alright. It was nice while it lasted. She sent me a letter berating me for stubbornness and a Quibbler article about men, but I'm staying in Salem. It's comfortable for me."
"I'm glad you came to visit, at any rate."
"Well," Alan's voice turned wry, "I haven't talked you into visiting the states yet in your country-hopping. I'm still hoping it'll be your next choice."
"I was more thinking Canada, there's a larger magical population there-"
"I could meet you in Nova Scotia."
Harry turned to face him. "Really?"
"Really." Alan grinned. "The Alfaerus have a retreat there as well; it's where some of them originally settled after the lingering witch-hunts ran them out of Salem."
Harry smiled faintly. "Sounds good." He turned back to the room inside. "Hey, Alan?"
He got an affirmative noise.
"What did you do with your award plaque?" They had both attended the ceremony; it was the least favourite thing Harry had done in the three years since Voldemort died. The ceremony had been awkward and unfriendly in general, and both of them had agreed to put their awards up and never touch them again.
"It's somewhere in the Salem trophy room." Alan answered negligently. "I haven't actually found said trophy room, mind, but I haven't looked very hard either. They said I could have it back anytime I wanted, but that it'd make a good addition to their collection."
Harry nodded idly, and scanned the clouds gathering overhead – it was probably going to rain that afternoon, of sorts. He tilted his head. "How come only you and I keep having girl problems?"
"Did Susan hex you again?"
"Daphne sent me a letter." Harry shrugged. "She was talking about her arranged marriage."
"To whom?"
"She refused to say." He shrugged stubbornly again. "I really don't know what to do."
"Is that why you keep jumping around?"
Harry laughed softly. "I just want to see the world. I can't figure out what else I want to do. Maybe if I take long enough it'll hit me or something." He shrugged. "It's not like I'm strapped for cash, or hate getting along in the different places."
"Well," Alan gave him an exaggerated smile. "I know neither Luna, nor Susan, nor Daphne are attending tonight, and Theodore wants to kidnap your political support again. There shouldn't be any girl troubles there."
"And maybe if you're lucky," Harry turned to walk backwards through the patio doors, "someone will talk Luna into looking for wild animals in Salem?"
Alan snorted and started walking. "She won't have to look that hard."
Harry sighed and followed his best friend back into the house. He glanced around the guest room, still in it's pale pink and red shades, and skimmed over the award plaque on the mantle. It was the one from the Minister, for 'services to his Ministry' in the defeat of Voldemort. Supposedly it was his greatest achievement.
He'd just like to know what he was supposed to do next.
A/N: Well, talk about a hiatus. I have gotten a most excellent Beta from Perfect Imagination for my new story, but she hasn't seen this one so don't complain. Betaing is just starting Fourth Year, and my writing is a bit stalled on Fifth Year so the posting may go a bit slow, but I thought I'd at least start posting the completed years I have done. This is the herald of the revised First Year, which I like -much- better than my first draft. Go check it out - it's 'The Revised Chronicles of Those-Who-Lived'
Cheers to all you watching me!
Fire & Napalm