Note: I'm really sorry about the wait. I particpated in National Novel Writer's Month this year and that took up a lot of my time (I finished with 50,245). This story will be slow getting out as ideas for it come in random spurts. Also, it's unbeta'd, so all errors are mine and I apologize. If you want to be a beta, just contact me. the1jchan at gmail dot com.

Chapter 1

Wizarding World Mourns Hero

The wizarding world is in mourning today as Arthur Weasley announced that the Ministry has had no luck in finding Harry Potter’s body. The Boy-Who-Lived defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named earlier this week, giving mothers everywhere an excuse to breathe freely once more.

“We do not know where he could have gone,” said Weasley, “nor do we know if he is alive or dead. Right now, we’re planning for the worst.”

When asked what the “worst” would be, the senior Weasley replied that if no body or hint is found by tomorrow night, a private funeral will be held for the savior of our world with only close friends present. No other information has been released at this time concerning this tragic issue.

0-0-0-0-0

The war had been hard on everybody, no matter what side of the fight they had been on. Those alive knew that they were lucky to be so, but they also had to deal with the fact that most of their friends and family would never get to see the light of the morning again. It was devastation everywhere and bodies were still being found and added to the total loss.

There was still one body that had yet to be found. One body the entire wizarding world was trying to find. Alive, they wished, but most feared that it would be dead. That same body was calmly sitting in a kitchen, drinking the strongest cup of coffee he could possibly make. Beside him were two other bodies that hadn’t been found, but most weren’t looking for them just yet.

“Harry, what’s a six letter word for someone who isn’t magical?”

Harry Potter, the said body that everybody was looking for, glanced up. “Why are you doing the wizard crossword if you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time?”

A shrug was all he received from his companion before the third member of their odd household spoke up. “It’s a ‘muggle.’ Need me to spell it?”

“No, I think I got it. M-u-g-g-e-l.”

Harry shook his head. “The ‘e’ and ‘l’ are switched.”

“Oh… thanks.”

The routine was like this everyday for the past few days. The three of them would wake up at different times, meet in the kitchen for breakfast, and then talk about nonsense things until dusk when they would go watch the sunset together. Two were wizards while the third was a muggle, but they were never bothered by it. Nor did the past and how much they had hated each other in their youth bother them. The war changed all three of them, forcing them to grow up quicker than they should have.

The war was what also caused the three of them to escape, if only for a short while. It was an escape they needed. That is, if they ever wanted to stay sane enough to live a normal life when they returned. They needed a break from the world and what it would give them, so a break it was. Far away, where nobody but themselves knew existed for now.

“The Prophet’s coming,” the third member of the household said, staring out the window to the arriving owl. “I wonder what edition we’ll get. It must take them a long time to go over the oceans like that.”

“Your owls can’t just appear here?” asked the muggle companion. The two wizards laughed softly, so he looked at both of them confused before asking, “What?”

“Owls aren’t people,” the Harry said. “Honestly, you spent how much time in our world and you still don’t know anything about it?”

The muggle shrugged, even as the other wizard took the paper from the owl and paid him extra before offering him rest. “I wasn’t exactly paying attention to how your mail arrived. I was more worried about living and not dying. You know, the thing that you never did in your life.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha. That wasn’t funny.” He glanced to the puzzle and then turned back to his coffee. “The answer to fourteen down is ‘Weird Sisters,’ by the way.”

The muggle shot him a scathing look, but then turned and filled in the correct answer. They once again were in comfortable silence; one doing a puzzle, one drinking coffee, and one reading over the headlines of the Daily Prophet. His face, though, was not the calm one. His face was screwed tight in pain.

“I think we have a slight problem.”

Harry and the muggle glanced up, both frowning. A problem wasn’t a good thing to hear. A problem meant that Voldemort was back or, worse even, Fudge had been appointed Minister of Magic again. All three of them knew that Fudge had been told to leave the wizarding world altogether, but few doubted that he actually did. Arthur Weasley was supposed to hold the office position, no one else.

“What kind of problem?” Harry asked, moving to stand. “Big or small?”

The other wizard shrugged. “That all depends on tomorrow’s paper.” He handed Harry the Prophet and then leaned against the counter, waiting for his reaction.

Harry stared at the title, a frown crossing his face. “Boy-Who-Lived Killed?” stared at him across the page, underneath there was a picture of him smiling for the entire wizarding world to see. Frowning further, he quickly read through the article before handing it off to their muggle friend. He only had to read through it once to get upset.

“Why can’t they just leave me alone?” Harry asked, though it was directed to no one in particular. “Why can’t they just stop writing rubbish about me and let me live my life away from everything?”

“Harry, wait.” The muggle put down the paper and stood. “We don’t know what they’re trying to do. Maybe tomorrow’s paper will show up saying ‘Harry Potter Lives’ or something like that. You did leave a note behind, both of us saw you write it.”

“He’s right, Harry.” The wizard nodded, pushing off the counter to get his own cup of coffee. “Who knows what tomorrow’s paper will say.”

Harry nodded and picked up his finished cup of coffee to put in the sink. Tomorrow’s paper, he decided, would show up differently. It had to be, because he left a note behind telling the wizarding world that he needed a break. A well deserved break. After killing Voldemort and ridding the world of their greatest evil, anybody deserved to get away for a while and just forget about things. The only reason they had the Prophet in the first place was to make sure Voldemort did not return back to life.

Peace was hard to come by now, especially after he delivered the killing blow. It had taken the two he was with a week before he stopped waking up with nightmares of Voldemort returning. Then it had taken them another few days before he could smile and actually mean it. If the papers continued to publish lies about him, then it would taken even longer before he would be calm enough to return to the wizarding world overseas.

“Yeah,” he finally agreed, “tomorrow’s paper will be better. We’ll see in the morning.”

The muggle smiled. “Great! Who’s up for a bit of window shopping?”

Both wizards groaned at this, but then eventually agreed. Most of their money was still overseas and what little they did have was used for food. They would return when their money was gone and then explain everything then. Until that time, all three of them were sure that they would find Harry’s note.

The next morning, though, proved to say otherwise. Harry was first to arrive this morning and he came to an owl holding the next issue of the Prophet. Taking the paper, Harry had given the bird a treat before offering to let it rest (the other owl left the night before). The bird hooted gratefully before flying over to the perch and taking a long deserved sleep.

Harry had stopped paying attention to the bird, though. He was staring at the newest headline (Wizarding World Mourns Hero) with something close to murder in his eyes. How dare they do this to him! After he spent nearly his entire life suffering because of a lunatic and hen spent almost just as long figuring out how to kill him!

“Good morning,” said a sleepy voice from the doorway, moving toward the coffee. “Is that the Prophet? It’s earlier today then yesterday.”

“Those … those bloody wankers!” Harry slammed the paper down and stood up. “How can they do this! I left a note in a wide-open area!”

“What?” The other turned, frowning. “Harry, what are you going on about?”

“Look!” Harry then shoved the paper in the other wizard’s face, blocking him from taking a sip of coffee. “Just look!”

The wizard took hold of the paper with his free hand, shaking it until it stood up straight. He scanned the headline once before scowling and moving on to the article. “You left the note in a pretty open place. How could they think you’re dead?”

“I don’t know,” Harry snapped, “but when I see Ron’s dad next I’m going to hex him so bad he won’t be able to see straight!”

“Harry, as much as I would love to-”

“No! Don’t talk me out of it!” Harry stormed upstairs, slamming open his bedroom door without even touching it.

The door down the hall opened and the third roommate stepped out. “Harry? What the bloody hell is going on?”

“He’s going to hex his best friend’s dad,” the other wizard put in as he came up the stairs. Rolling the copy of the Prophet, he tossed it to the muggle so he could read it. “Harry, think rationally. If you hex him, what are you going to do after that when they throw you in Azkaban?”

That caused Harry to pause in his search for his wand. He stared at his wizard friend for a long while before sighing and dropping his hands. “I don’t know. I’m just so tired of all this publicity. It’s just more lies being spread about me and I hate that.”

“I know.” The wizard stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Harry. “And I’m sorry, I wish I could do something.”

Harry curled his fingers in the other’s shirt, burying his face into the warm chest. “I don’t want to remember the war,” he whispered softly. “I just want to forget everything.”

The muggle stepped in the doorway, frowning. “You’re wizards, can’t you do that?”

“No.” The other wizard turned, shooting the muggle a look. “If Harry forgot who he was, then he’d be in more pain. He’d try to figure out who he was.”

“Well, why not replace the memories? Like make him think Harry Potter was someone else?”

Both wizards were silent, one contemplating that idea and the other still scowling. Harry lifted his head a bit, looking back toward his muggle friend. They had come so far from what they were and he didn’t want to forget him. Then he turned to the wizard he was holding onto. They had come a long way as well. He wanted to remember both of them and just live here.

Suddenly, the idea wasn’t so bad. “Do it,” he told the other wizard. “Do it now. I want to forget that I’m Harry Potter.”

“Harry,” the other wizard hissed. “That’s insane! You could really damage yourself!”

Harry shoved back, scowling at his friend. “Do it or I will! You know I can, so you better do it before I find my wand!”

Muggle and wizard stared at each other as Harry started to tear apart his room. There was no sense to talk to Harry anymore, not when he was like this. Sighing, the wizard walked out of the room and retrieved his wand. The muggle followed him.

“What are you planning to do?”

“Stun him, first. Then… do as he wishes.”

The muggle frowned, stopping in the doorway to the wizard’s room. “What?”

The wizard shrugged. “He wants to forget, then I’ll let him forget. But not completely. I know he’ll want to know someday who he is and then he can unlock his own memories. Until then, I’ll just… heavily overlap new ones.”

“With what?” The muggle shifted, letting the wizard leave the room.

“Something happier. Something that he will like better than what he has now.”