Chapter 1 Another Nice Mess

A/N: I know what you're thinking: why is he starting a new story when he hasn't finished his existing story yet? This is ready and the next chapter for Dogfather isn't ready, that's why. This story has been beta'd by Akamoroti and Alix33, any mistakes that remain are my own. My story recommendation is The-Fic-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named by Akamoroti. The title is not the only creative part of the story, be ready for a wild ride!

Harry awoke from disturbing, vague nightmares to find himself in an unfamiliar room. It was much too white and it was much too fuzzy for him to make out his surroundings. He automatically reached out a hand to search for his glasses and immediately regretted it. He had to pause and keep still as a wave of pain and shaking overcame him. Since moving was problematic, he decided to try to figure out what had happened.

What should have been easy turned into a trying ordeal. His mind seemed to be a sluggish mess and his memories just weren't cooperating. It took him a while, but then he remembered going to sleep in the boys' dorm of Gryffindor tower but he certainly wasn't waking up there. There was no red or gold here, just sterile white. However, it wasn't the Hogwarts hospital wing either, he'd recognize that even without his glasses after all of his visits there. St Mungo's seemed most likely but why would he be there? Sure, he had been sore and scarred but he certainly shouldn't be in this shape just from the final battle.

After recovering from his attempt to find his glasses, he decided to see if anyone answered his call and discovered that his mouth was dry and not working at all well. All he managed was a grunt and a raspy sound, nothing resembling a word. He came to the unsettling conclusion that something was very wrong, he must be missing something, but what?

He began to ponder his predicament and was wondering what else he could try without another bout of shaking and pain. If it was that bad just reaching for his glasses, he didn't even want to think about trying to get out of bed. He may have been drifting in and out of sleep or maybe his sense of time was messed up too. Either way, he had no idea how long he had waited for someone to enter his room.

Before he could attempt to communicate, he heard a surprised "Oh!" in a feminine voice. Finally, he might get some answers!

The blurry shape came over to the side of the bed and offered him something to drink with a straw and it made him feel much better. He might even be able to talk now but she helped him with his glasses first. She came into focus and she was a stranger. What was odd is that she looked a bit apprehensive. Why on earth would she look at him like that? He hadn't seen that look since his second year, in the 'heir of Slytherin' days.

"Take this for the pain."

She helped him drink a foul potion and fortunately, she followed it up with some more water. Then she helped him up to a sitting position with only minor pain and he took stock of the room but there wasn't much to see.

"What happened? Where are Ron and Hermione?"

She stared at him like he'd grown a second head. She muttered "I'll get a healer," and rushed from the room. What was going on with her? As he settled in a little more to wait, he noticed something odd about his hands. Why did they look so… old?

He felt his face and noticed stubble, he needed a shave but that was no surprise. He peered at his hands again and couldn't believe what he was seeing. His hands were definitely different and he even had some old scars that he didn't remember. He began to wonder if his last memory of going to sleep after defeating Voldemort was from a long time ago. Had he been obliviated?

A woman in healer's robes entered with a somewhat tentative smile and he was so intent on determining her reaction that it took him a moment to notice just how beautiful she was. Another moment later, he realised that she looked a bit familiar but he couldn't place her. Then he noted that she looked concerned but she spoke before he could.

"Are you feeling alright, Mr. Potter?"

Brilliant. She probably thought he'd been stupefied or something. "I'm feeling much better but I'm confused. I asked about my friends and the woman practically fled the room. What happened to me?"

She looked even more concerned now and he was beginning to lose his patience. Her next question made his irritation vanish, only to transform into trepidation.

"What year do you think this is?"

His hands weren't lying then, he was missing who knew how many years but better to get this over with. "1998."

She paused for a moment before responding. "Mr. Potter, the year is 2021."

Shite. He was what… 41? That didn't explain everything though. "Why did she act so weird when I asked about my friends?"

His heart sank as she got a little fidgety, what other bad news was there?

"I presume you are speaking of Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger?"

She was definitely procrastinating now, this must be bad. "Yes. Please, just tell me."

"You had a very public breakup with the whole Weasley family years ago. As far as I know, there is no contact between you. As for Miss Granger, she disappeared. The prevailing theory is that she returned to the Muggle world."

Before he could get over his shock, another woman abruptly entered the room. She was an older woman and looked like she had never approved of anyone in her life. There was clear disdain in her voice and expression when she addressed him.

"Finally! You need to leave as soon as possible, Potter. We will be able to serve more deserving clients once you are gone."

The healer's frosty tone intervened before he could get over this new shock. "You have interrupted my final examination of the patient. We still have to follow procedure."

He saw the older woman's jaw clench but she was almost conciliatory when responding to the healer. "Of course, Healer Greengrass. I will leave you to it then."

She stormed back out of the room and practically slammed the door. Harry had no idea what to make of what he had just learned but one thing did stick out to him: Greengrass. There'd been a Slytherin in his year with that name and she did resemble her. He'd last seen her the day of the final battle, she was caring for the injured so her profession was no accident.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Mr. Potter. That was Gemma Avery, she's one of the administrators here at St. Mungo's and she will insist that you leave soon. It's mostly since she blames you for the death of her cousin but she's also not fond of charity cases."

This was too much to absorb all at once. "Charity case?"

He saw her face flush in embarrassment before she responded. "I'm sorry. I forgot that you are missing years of memory. You lost your job as an Auror and have no apparent means of paying for your care here."

Great. Friendless and broke. What was next?

"I'd better finish my examination before she brings security or something. How do you feel, Mr. Potter?"

She was already casting some spells towards him and he fidgeted as he tried to think of what to say. "I feel pretty normal now. When I woke up, moving was very painful."

"That's not surprising given your condition when you arrived. You had been repeatedly cursed and Crucio was definitely one of them. Your wand was left broken beside you."

Wandless now too? He'd thought his life was shite before but this was worse. He was distracted as she handed him a small box.

"Here. I had this ready as I knew they'd want you out as soon as possible. It's the rest of the potions regimen that you're on. They are labelled with what they are and when to take them. Follow the instructions carefully."

He looked up at her and tried to smile gratefully. He didn't know what to say but he didn't want to be rude or unappreciative and given the reaction of the administrator, she might be the only person on his side. It was obvious she was bending rules to make certain that he was cared for. It was probably something she'd do for any patient, he didn't think he was getting special treatment.

"Well, that's it, Mr. Potter. You're ready to go as soon as you change." She gestured to a small chest of drawers next to his bed as she said that. She hesitated and bit her lip so he waited for what else she might have to say.

"If you want…" She hesitated so he gave her an encouraging smile. "There's a Muggle café to the right of the main entrance. I get off shift in less than an hour and I could meet you there, in case there's more you want to know. I can barely guess how awkward this must be for you."

He had to suppress a cynical laugh as he didn't want her to misunderstand. "I would like that very much, Healer Greengrass. I appreciate what you are doing for me."

Her smile was big and genuine when he said that. "Ok. I'll leave you to get ready. There's a lift to the left down the hall and it lets out near the main entrance. I'll see you at the café then."

He stared at the closed door for a moment but then decided to get a move on before that older witch (Avery?) came back. He found some old, ratty clothing in the top drawer and was appalled at what he was expected to wear. Then he realised it must be what he was wearing when he was found so he had only himself to blame. What was wrong with him that he went out in public dressed in rags? At least it was Muggle clothing so he'd fit in outside.

When he had it all spread out on the bed, he did a double take and then searched all of the drawers. Where was his mokeskin pouch? He searched the entire room frantically but then calmed down as he remembered that decades had passed and he undoubtedly had taken care of the Elder Wand long ago and he hoped it was in Dumbledore's tomb as he had planned.

Then another thought came to him, he'd obviously been defeated and probably tortured. Someone else could be the master of that wand and if they knew where to find it…. He decided to not go looking for trouble since he had plenty already. He got dressed and was glad that at least his rags were clean. He'd like to transfigure them into something more suitable but as Greengrass had said, there was no wand in his belongings.

There was no reason to delay as he didn't want to be escorted out, he felt conspicuous enough with his clothing already. He quietly opened the door and was grateful to find an empty hallway. He moved to his left and found the lift easily enough. He pressed the button and fortunately the lift arrived before anyone saw him, the lift was even empty so his luck had apparently improved.

His luck ran out as the lift stopped and let some people in before he got to the ground floor. Mercifully, only one person openly looked him over and she reacted as he would expect. He looked like a beggar and though he did his best to be inconspicuous, there was only so much that he could hide.

He finally made it out of the doors and noticed that nobody else from the elevator used them. The Muggle repelling charms must be working as the passersby avoided the entrance and him, which was a bit of a relief. However, this might not be the best place to wait, the Avery woman might see him and somebody must use this entrance, otherwise why would it be here?

With a reluctant sigh, he started to meander to the right to find the café. He kept his head down and tried to appear interested in the newspapers and other things on display. He hadn't really kept up on Muggle news over the last year but it was rather obvious time had passed that he had no recollection of. There were mentions of a 'Brexit', which meant nothing to him. And who was the bloke named Boris with the messy hair? Someone really ought to give him a comb.

Then he saw a more alarming article in an abandoned newspaper. What was a Coronavirus? He read it and was appalled, what was the muggle world coming to? He began to look around at the people and at first wondered if there was a Muggle hospital nearby as he saw some people in what appeared to be surgical masks. There were other masks that didn't look surgical and a lot of people weren't wearing masks at all. This Coronavirus thing must be very contagious then and he wished he had a mask. Why didn't Greengrass warn him?

He tossed the newspaper in the trash as he had more important issues now than what the Muggle world was up to. For one thing, where did he live? He looked at his clothes again and wondered if he even had a place to live. If he was homeless too then he didn't know what he would do.

He suddenly realised that he had reached the café and had no idea what to do. He had no money of either sort and they wouldn't want someone looking like him hanging around. He looked around and decided to hide in a corner near the café where he could watch for Greengrass. He did his best to be inconspicuous so he was startled when a hand appeared and shoved a folded piece of paper at him. He took it on autopilot and unfolded it to see a five-pound note.

He looked up to try to return it but was too late, he had no idea who might have given it to him. Then he recalled that his instinct that he didn't need the money might be wrong. This was now the only money he knew of to his name. He was so buggered.

He shoved the note into a pocket and felt overcome by shame. How had he let things come to this? Destitute, friendless, wandless and probably homeless. He was absolutely pathetic.

He was startled from his dark thoughts when he heard a quiet, feminine voice ask, "Potter?"

He looked up to see Greengrass who was wearing what appeared to be posh Muggle clothing and he was surprised that a Slytherin knew how to fit in so well. She looked contrite as she continued to speak. "I'm sorry, I had forgotten about the state of your clothing."

She did a quick scan around them and silently cast a spell before she relaxed. "There, they won't notice us now, I can fix you up in a jiffy."

She was as good as her word as he very quickly found himself in what appeared to be a new Muggle button down shirt and trousers that were a bit posh too. He'd fit right in now and even look like he belonged with her.

He looked at her again when she asked, "Should I?" and gestured towards his face. Right, his clothes hadn't been the only thing that was scruffy.

He tried to fight a blush as he said, "Please." It was as if he felt a breeze touch his face and when he felt his cheek, he found it to be clean-shaven. It wasn't so much what she did but how casually and silently she did it, he was impressed.

"So, I was wondering…. Do I need to wear a mask?"

"Only if you want to, COVID-19 is not a magical disease so we're immune. It's been terrible for the Muggles though. Some of us wanted to do research to help but the board decided it was a waste of precious resources." She rolled her eyes so he knew what she thought of their excuse.

He wasn't sure what to think of that information but she then distracted him with a question and a gesture towards the café. "Shall we?"

Right, he could use something to eat and drink but then he remembered his financial situation. Five pounds wouldn't buy much, probably less than he was accustomed to due to inflation.

"My treat." She was giving him an encouraging smile and he realised that he had little choice.

"Thanks."

They walked over and he followed her to a small table in the outside area of the café. He was wondering just how to thank her for being so nice when the server came over asking what they wanted. She ordered tea and biscuits and looked for his opinion so he just nodded agreement. Whatever she was willing to buy was more than he had.

As soon as the server left, he opened his mouth to begin asking questions but then realised that he could end up violating the statute of secrecy if he wasn't careful. It was like she read his mind as after what appeared to be two spells cast from underneath the table, she smiled and spoke first.

"I put up a privacy charm and a weak Muggle repelling charm. The server can approach us but others will tend to avoid us. I imagine you have a lot of questions."

Boy did he have a lot of questions. However, his original intent to ask questions about his situation became secondary when he had seen once again how comfortable she seemed in the Muggle world. "How is it that you know how to blend in so well in the Muggle world?"

She smiled shyly at him and it did something weird to his heart, or was it that monster in his chest from sixth year again? He didn't think so, it seemed different somehow.

"My best friend was a half-blood who introduced me to Muggle fashion. That's the easy answer. Lately, it's more necessity, I'm thinking of dropping out into the Muggle world so I've been working on fitting in. It's really getting bad, it's like your victory meant nothing as the same old attitudes are gaining control again. It really got worse since you sold the Black seat to the Malfoys."

He was speechless and then the server came with their order so he had to wait. When the server disappeared, he had to ask his first question. "Do you know why I'd do a daft thing like that? I can't believe I'd sell Sirius' birthright like that."

"I really don't know for sure. We never really talked before today. You were busy drinking yourself to death, it was all over the news. I had to do a lot of work on your liver to get you back to full health. If they approached you when you were drunk…."

Well, isn't that just dandy? He was a drunk to boot too then. How had he let himself fall this far down? He put his face in his hands, unable to face her. He nearly flinched when he felt her touch his arm, even though she was probably trying to console him.

"You've been through a lot; many people have had trouble coping with the trauma of war."

That could very well be true but he realised that he had set the bar on coping dangerously low. Still, he wanted to show his gratitude for everything she was doing and to begin that, he would stop trying to hide from her. He gave her his best attempt at a grateful smile and replied, "Thank you for the encouragement, I have to do better though and I'm going to try."

He began to wonder why she started looking shy and blushed. Then she spoke up and it became clear what had motivated her reaction.

"I had a crush on you in fourth year but I couldn't approach you with the whole Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry situation."

Harry had to suppress a laugh at how bashful she looked. However, he didn't want to repay her attempt at distracting him with anything that might seem like ridicule.

"If I was more aware of everyone outside my small circle of friends, I probably would have had a crush on you too."

Oops, he seemed to have made her blushing worse but she was smiling brilliantly so it wasn't too bad. She started in on her tea again so he took a biscuit and had some tea as well to calm things down. When they both seemed recovered, he tried to get what information he could on his friends.

"Can you tell me anything about what happened between me and Ron and Hermione?"

"As I said, we weren't really acquainted so mostly I know what I heard in rumours and news. Skeeter was having a field day going after you so I didn't believe everything she wrote. I'll just condense it to what I thought might be real.

"You and the youngest Weasley were an item for about a year or maybe two after the war. When you broke up, she said awful things about you. You either didn't tell your side or they didn't want to print it so I have no idea what really happened. I didn't believe most of what she said about you, it just didn't seem like you to me. Anyway, your friend Ronald took her side, there were rumours of a physical fight between you two.

"As for your friend Granger, she finished Hogwarts by taking her seventh year. She and your friend seemed to have a brief fling but it was over before she graduated as far as I knew. She didn't associate with the Weasleys, especially after what happened with you. She had joined the Ministry in Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There were rumours of conflicts and then she just disappeared. Mostly, everyone thought she'd given up and gone back to the Muggle world. However, there have been too many disappearances and I'm sceptical that all of them left on their own.

"Take former Minister Shacklebolt for example. He lost the first election; it was close and there were rumours of irregularities in the voting but he didn't argue and took his family seat in the Wizengamot. Then one day, he went missing and I never heard any plausible story of why. All of the prominent disappearances were of people who had opposed the dark lord. I wonder about what really happened to Granger. You and I both know how easy it is to make someone disappear in the Magical world."

Suddenly, his appetite was gone and he had no idea what to say. Things really were bad, especially when someone from a pureblood family was thinking of going Muggle herself. He had apparently failed to do anything about it and had evidently given up. He should have been in touch with Hermione. How could he just let her disappear like that? Had he really won anything in that final, bloody battle? Nothing made sense anymore.

Their teatime ended soon after by mutual decision. She indicated there was a private area where they could part but Harry had no idea where he could go. He followed her rather aimlessly and when they arrived, he looked around at a very ordinary alley. His attention snapped to her when she spoke up.

"This is the nearest Apparition point, it's heavily warded against Muggles. They won't notice us at all here. You don't know where you live, do you?"

Harry was embarrassed to shake his head no.

"Do you have a house elf?"

House elf? Kreacher! Why hadn't he thought of that? "I think so."

"Call him, he'd know."

"Kreacher."

For a moment, nothing happened and Harry wondered if he'd lost him too when a crack sounded nearby and he saw the old elf peering up at him. "Master."

The elf's manner seemed off, he was very cautious and stoic. They didn't have a friendship like he'd had with Dobby but they had become at ease with each other. That relationship seemed to have changed.

"It's a relief to see you, Kreacher. Where do I live?"

The old elf peered at him again as if uncertain of who he was. "Master has forgotten?"

"I was apparently attacked. I don't remember anything after the final battle at Hogwarts."

Again, the elf peered at him but came to some conclusion as he nodded and then replied. "Master lives with Kreacher at Grimmauld Place. Does Master wish to return?"

He really wanted to return to someplace familiar to think but also didn't want to abruptly leave and be rude to the one person who had been so helpful to him.

"Umm, eventually yes. I just need to… errr… say goodbye to Daphne here."

He gave her a shy look and she smiled back at him. His attention went back to Kreacher as he said, "Kreacher will give Master and Miss privacy. Call Kreacher and Kreacher will bring Master home."

Before he could say anything, the elf had popped away.

Well, that happened. On one hand, he had a home after all. On the other hand, it might be a complete dump. He couldn't be sure after all these years, but it was better than the street. Probably.

Daphne spoke and drew him from his thoughts.

"See, you do have a home. If you need anything, anything at all, call me. My floo address is 'Daphne's Place'."

For a moment, he was distracted thinking of how generous and nice she was. She was doing all of this after admitting that they hadn't been socializing at all and weren't friends.

"I can't believe how nice you are being to me, being basically strangers and all. You shouldn't be sharing your floo address with penniless drunks."

Surprise flickered across her face before a slight scowl formed.

"Harry, you shouldn't let others' opinions of you control your life. I'm sure you will do much better in the future, I can see how much you want to change."

He blinked at her, taken aback. First, he was surprised at suddenly being 'Harry' but also it hit him like a stinging rebuke. Was he going to wallow in his apparently self-inflicted circumstances or was the going to make something of himself? That was an easy choice and he smiled back at her.

"You certainly have a way of motivating people, Daphne. I do intend to put things right so don't be surprised if you get a call at 'Daphne's Place'."

"I'm looking forward to it. Bye, Harry."

"Bye, Daphne."

She apparated away but her smile stayed on his mind. She really was amazing, how had he not seen that after being in classes with her for six whole years? Well, there's nothing to be done for that now. He had a future to make for himself. He was alone in a dingy alley so he decided he'd better see what his home looked like.

"Kreacher!"

The old elf appeared next to him and held out his hand, which Harry took. The next moment, they were in Grimmauld Place and Kreacher began limping his way towards the kitchen. He was about to ask what was wrong with his leg when he was astonished to notice the wall where Walburga's portrait used to be was massively damaged, he wasn't even sure it would be safe to be near it as it might be unstable.

"What happened?!"

He heard the elf stop and turn but he continued to stare at the ruined wall. Kreacher's croaking voice answered his query with, "Master and former Mistress had an argument."

That seemed like an enormous understatement so he turned to look at Kreacher who looked sad. "Former Mistress lost."

He couldn't believe he'd done what he saw there. It looked like some dark magic must have been used, which would explain why it wasn't repaired. Apparently, he was one of those nasty drunks as he'd hate to think he'd do that sober.

More quietly, Harry asked his other question. "What happened to your leg, Kreacher?"

There was that stoic look again. "Kreacher was disrespectful and Master corrected Kreacher."

His stomach dropped; the news just kept getting worse! "I'm very sorry, Kreacher. I should never have done that; you didn't deserve to be treated that way."

Kreacher gave him another one of those odd assessing looks before he changed the subject. "Does Master wish dinner?"

"What do you have ready?"

"Kreacher wasn't sure when Master would return. Kreacher will find something to sell and get some food."

"Sell? I don't have any money at all?"

"Master takes all money to drink."

It hurt even worse that the elf was so matter-of-fact in his tone. "I won't do that anymore, Kreacher. I will try to figure out how to make some money. Get something for yourself too."

There was another one of those odd looks he was getting so often. Maybe the old elf was wondering if he could believe him, which he guessed he deserved. When the house elf nodded and continued to limp towards the kitchen, Harry decided to sit on a broken couch and contemplate the state of his existence.

Apparently, he hadn't handled his post-Hogwarts life very well at all. He'd lost his only friends and turned into what he hated most, a bully. Only a bully would curse a house elf like that. That was what Malfoy would do! He came to the very unpleasant conclusion that he wasn't so different after all.

He pondered how he must have gotten into this mess and realised that his circle of friends had been much too small. Ron had abandoned him – again. And Harry had apparently abandoned Hermione to lose her like that he must have lost all sense of what was right. He wasn't sure how much he could trust his own decisions anymore.

Then it occurred to him that the last he could remember, he hadn't had any plans at all! Scratch that then, his problem was that he hadn't made any plans so he'd set out to plan his way out of this mess. As he began to ponder, it didn't take long for him to realise he needed to know a lot more about what was going on these days. How could he make plans when he had no idea what options he had?

He sighed and sat back, which made his hand come into contact with something hard in his pocket. He pulled it out to find the small box Daphne had given him and he opened it to see a lot of very small potion bottles. How could these little things hold a dose? He reached in and his hand seemed to blur in his vision as he grasped a bottle so he drew it back quickly and saw a full-sized bottle in his hand.

He looked back into the box and the miniature bottles he saw there and marvelled at what magic could accomplish. This box was enchanted! He couldn't keep this magical box when he was done with his potions. He smiled as he realised that he had an ironclad reason to contact Daphne to return this box. That was the one thing he looked forward to doing.