Author's Note: Those last two stories were kind of depressing, so here's something a little more fun.
Story Three: Pain
The great witches and wizards of the world were all familiar with the name Harry Potter, and throughout his time at Hogwarts, all enjoyed speculating on the brilliant and prosperous future that awaited him. Then the Great Harry Potter had surprised them all by taking a menial, entry-level job at the Ministry of Magic. He had done so in order to have some semblance of a "normal" life and so that he could work with Ron. The day-to-day paper shuffling was extremely tedious, however, and he often longed for his days of battling death eaters, just for a little excitement.
The one bright spot in Harry's work life was the department's Quidditch team he and Ron had organized. They named it the "Deathly Hallows," which made Hermione roll her eyes, but which Ginny asserted was "very intimidating."
The day following one particularly good game Ron walked into the office looking utterly defeated. His shirt was half-untucked and his hair was a mess and he looked at the ground as he entered Harry's cubicle. Harry knew that this could only mean one thing: a fight with Hermione.
Harry knew it was best to let Ron speak first in these situations, so he simply said, "Hi, Ron," and did not look up from his paperwork.
Ron took a deep breath and then burst out with, "You wouldn't believe it Harry! It's the same fight all over again!" Ron's voice changed to falsetto. "All you ever talk about is Quidditch! All you ever think about is Quidditch! What about me! Bla bla bla!"
Harry chucked but kept his eyes on his work.
Ron stood up a little straighter.
"Well, I didn't put up with that! I said she only reads books and talks about arithmancy! And when I brought up ancient runes, oh man, the fur started to fly! Literally!"
Harry couldn't help but look at Ron quizzically.
"Crookshanks…just…jumped on me, from out of nowhere, hissing and scratching! That little monster…I can't believe I haven't managed to get rid of it all these years!"
"Don't worry, Ron. Maybe Crookshanks will turn out to be a treacherous animagus too," Harry said cheerfully, slapping him on the back.
Ron laughed ruefully and pointed to his right cheek.
"That still won't get rid of this scar."