Title: Pain of the Past, Be Healed
Author: loonie_lupin (ff. net)/ nilitara (livejournal)
Fandom: HP, Bones
Summary: Harry meets someone as he's debating whether or not to take the job offered to him.
Prompt: 001. Beginning
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of their respective creator. I own nothing
Harry was leaving the FBI building in Washington DC, walking assuredly amongst the mass. He still could not believe he had been asked to come there. Sure, after his role in the war had been revealed to the United States, he knew that they would be quite a lot of questions and that he would probably be the recipient of a few job offers, the same way it had happened in the UK. Thing is, he had expected them to be from the magical world.
Of course, had it been in the magical world, the answer would have been easier. Harry wouldn't have lost any time before turning them down. After the war and ended and so many people had died because of the actions, or lack of actions, of a corrupt government, he had decided he would not stay there. He had said his goodbye to his friends, still promising to keep in touch, and spent one fantastic night with Ginny Weasley. Then he had gone to the muggle world and stayed there.
Harry and Ginny had promised to reunite once Voldemort was vanquished and they did. They tried to make it work, they really did, but it had soon become evident that both of them had changed way too much to be able to pursue a relationship. They had promised each other to always be there in case of need and to stay the best of friend. They also spent one night together, wanting their first time to be special, with their first love. It had been sweet, tender but it had lacked passion, something they just didn't find in each other. Still, it was a magical memory and they would keep I all throughout their life.
Still, Harry had decided to leave, with no real idea of what he wanted to do. So when the call came that the FBI, a muggle federal organization whose heads were aware of the magical world, wanted to see him, he had seen tit as his chance for another beginning.
He wasn't sure whether he was going to accept to work for them. He was not the greatest fan or governments, but he didn't think it would hurt to talk to them and see what kind of job they wanted to give him, what it would entail. It didn't force him to anything and, who knew, maybe he would be able to find his vocation.
So he had jumped in a place – because he had always wanted to fly in a plane, since he was a kid – and had come all the way to Washington to meet with the FBI boss.
The meeting had been long and they had explained the reason they wanted him there. He couldn't say he wasn't interested. He had a feeling that, were he to accept the offer, they would actually listen to his input and let him do things, maybe not as he pleased, but still giving him some freedom. They seemed more open-minded an organization than the Ministry of Magic, someplace he had never wanted to work in. at least, in the FBI, he would not be used as a scapegoat every time something went wrong.
He couldn't say they wouldn't make him a weapon because, let's face it, being the only magical employee of this organization, he would of course be a kind of hidden joker but they wouldn't do what Dumbledore had done, they wouldn't let him be only a weapon. He would still be Harry and that was something to think about.
He hadn't given them a definite answer yet and they hadn't pressed him. They told him he had a month to decide and it suited him. He had to ask Hermione what she was thinking. He knew she was the only one of his friend who knew enough about the muggle world to know exactly what he was talking about and give him a truthful and thought about answer. She always gave sound advice. Ron would probably think it was a cool job and, while it may have been so, he could not base his decision of this.
So there he was, walking out of the building, when someone caught his eyes.
He was young; maybe not as young as Harry – a mere eighteen years old – but probably only a few years older. It wasn't that which caught his eyes, though. It was the man's whole demeanor.
Dressed in a suit, walking out of this particular building, Harry knew it was someone working for the FBI but he didn't look anything like an agent. He was probably an expert, or a consultant, or someone like this. Harry wasn't certain.
Observing him, the young wizard could tell he wasn't very sure of himself, probably because of his age that must have made him feel somehow inadequate. God knew that people were giving him, Harry, strange looks because of this. Of course, Harry was used to being looked at like an anomaly, so he didn't really mind anymore. He just ignored it.
This guy, though, didn't seem all that comfortable about it. Yet, there was something else; a kind of impression he gave that told Harry that something had happened. Not something life-altering, not some catastrophe, but something enough to make him hurt.
Harry thought about it for a second or two but, if he was going to stay there for a while, it wouldn't hurt to have someone to talk to and he had never been able to walk away from someone in pain – whether it was physical or not. It was just another facet of his saving people thing, as Hermione called it. So, after a minute deliberation, he walked purposefully to the guy and smiled at him.
Merlin, he wasn't used to that anymore. It had been quite a while since he had tried to make new friends.
"Hello," the man answered, looking a bit startled.
Harry couldn't blame him. It must have been unusual to have someone he didn't know come to him and beginning to talk. People just didn't do that, at least not after high school. He hoped he wouldn't come around as a lunatic.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm new here. Well, I may take a job, not sure about it yet, and I don't know anymore. Since you seem to be the only one here around my age, I wanted to know if you wanted to go for a drink."
The man looked at him strangely and Harry realized how it may have come out.
"No funny business, promise," he added with a chuckled. "I just really don't want to spend all my time here alone."
The man seemed to relax at that and let out a small laugh on his own.
"Yes, I can understand that. I wouldn't mind having a bit of company for a while myself. I'm Lance Sweets."
He proffered his hand and Harry took it, shaking it with a smile.
And wasn't it great to have people not reacting whenever he told them his name? He had missed that from the time had hadn't been in the Wizarding world. He liked the anonymity, craved it, and he knew it would be one of the good side of joining the FBI.
"So, do you know any good place we could go? I just arrived in the city."
Lance nodded and began walking, Harry at his side.
"Yes, I know a place. Where are you from? England?"
"Yeah. I literally got off the plane this morning."
They talked for a while, going to the pub Lance usually went with his coworkers – well, patients really, even if he was beginning to see more of them when they were on a case than in his office. They talked mostly about stupid things, nothing too personal. They didn't know each other after all, but Harry had a feeling this was going to change rapidly. He could feel something when he was talking with Lance. It was as if he was in conversation with a kindred spirit and he wasn't talking about magic. He was definitively certain Lance didn't know anything about that world.
Still, it was a nice conversation and, just before they parted way, after exchanging phone numbers – Harry having brought a cell phone first thing in the muggle world – Lance asked Harry why he wanted to work there.
Harry thought about it for a second and settled for the truth.
"I just want a new beginning."