Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Mistake:Revised
Chapter 5 – Start of Something New
A week after his arrival was the first free time Harry had in a long time; in the silence of his apartment he was bored. He was more accustomed to noise and motion rather than the stillness and quiet he was currently surrounded by. Looking around he thanked Sirius once again for giving him a Plan B, a way out, of his messy personal life.
He thought back to the catalyst for leaving and remembered holding the divorce papers with her name signed and dated neatly on each page. The tabs that noted where he was to sign his name were distant and cold; not at all, the woman he married. It was then he realized he had been fighting a losing battle from the start; she was unwilling to trust him.
Harry signed the thrice-damned papers and sent it back without a note, in the meantime he had contacted Sirius’, or rather his own now, solicitor to begin the move.
Recently, there had been talk upstairs that he was a strong candidate for the new department head. Even as everyone acknowledged he was talented and powerful, he had two things working against him – youth and lack of experience. To make up for his youth, he would need experience.
In the midst of the mess that was his personal life, he decided do just that. He heard of the position opening up in the States, and applied for the transfer. Moody, the current acting department head, had personally delivered the transfer approval, before saying gruffly,
“Potter, don’t let those Americans make you get soft. You have a week to get your affairs in order and then you’re due to report to the New York office in Manhattan first thing Monday morning.”
Before Moody could walk away from his office, Harry spoke up,
“Moody, do you mind not telling them about this just yet? I want to tell them myself.”
Moody smirked to himself, before nodding his assent, both knew who he was referring to. Walking away towards the lift Harry had stared at his retreating back until he turned the corner before beginning the task of packing up his office.
Harry considered the task of telling everyone in person, but thought it would be best not to, as their last meeting resulted in a screaming match.
Better that he just fade out of their lives, he didn’t belong there anymore. Looking forward was the only thing left to do, he sent off an owl to his solicitor telling him everything needed to be ready in a week.
That was three weeks ago, and here he was sitting alone in his apartment, in silence for the first time since his arrival. When he had arrived in New York, the first thing he noticed was the intense energy everyone had, before being pulled along into the rush.
There were a surprising amount of small details that needed to be taken care of upon his arrival. That and the increasingly, irritating newspaper articles, which he had seen to with a letter of his own and some clever charm work, had occupied the first two weeks so thoroughly he had barely unpacked more than the bare necessities.
Heaving a sigh he got up, this was a good a time as any to get started. Starting with the boxes closest to him he started unpacking and pulled out a picture frame. When he left London he had left all the trinkets that marked his life there; that is all except one thing – a picture of the Golden Trio in their happier times.
The picture was one of the few Muggle ones he had, he had wanted to save this particular moment in hopes everything would stay as perfect as it had been. The irony being three years later everything had fallen apart.
It was just a simple picture of Hermione, Ron and himself posing for the camera, or rather they were supposed to be posing for the camera. At the last minute, Ron stuck up bunny ears atop of Hermione’s head in which, she responded by attempting to shove him off-balance. However, Harry who had his arm around Hermione’s waist and an arm around Ron’s shoulder was caught off-balance and pulled them off their feet. The three tumbled to the ground just as the timer went off for the picture.
For a candid shot, it was a pretty good one; but to Harry it was the perfect picture – all three of them entangled, without any one of them the picture would be incomplete but together they were perfect.
After looking at the picture he slipped it back into the box, there wasn’t any room in his life just yet to take care of that problem. He had come here to get away from them, not dwell on it. Pushing the box away from him he reached for another, hopefully less emotionally involved box, if such a thing were possible.
It turned out the contain the contents of his living room, which with a few taps and waves of his wand had everything settled in a place remarkably similar to it’s former position across the ocean. Then again, that was what he was used to, as he looked out in satisfaction at the decidedly masculine living room.
Picking up the rest of the boxes he slowly made his way through the apartment, which really wasn’t as difficult as it seemed – with the help of magic of course. Harry for the most part had shrunk down his rooms and placed it in boxes for easy unpacking and storage. After hanging up his pots and pans he made his way towards the last room, one he’d been dreading and consciously avoided – the bedroom.
Now it shouldn’t have been difficult, after all he’d decorated an entire apartment in less than a day. Somehow, he had difficulty even contemplating the bedroom. After three years of not sleeping by himself, he was faced with a lonely bed once again. That would take getting used to.
Stepping in the doorway he slowly set up the room, making his way around the bed. As long as he concentrated on the mundane tasks he could avoid thinking about it as long as he could, until it was finally necessary. The time came of course, there was only so many times a man can rearrange his sock drawer before he wants to scream – they were that neat.
Turning around he faced the bed - the king-sized bed that looked ready to engulf him. That was what he was afraid of, being engulfed by the huge bed: being by himself and all. Shaking his head to clear the morbid thoughts he began to make the bed with his new sheets, first the fitted sheet, then the flat sheet, then the comforter, and finally the pillows. There that wasn’t so bad he thought sitting on the edge of the bed. Until he remembered the first time he and Hermione made their new bed in the new house.
“HARRY JAMES POTTER!!! Put me down this instant,” yelled Hermione when Harry swept her off her feet.
“Can’t do that love, a husband has to carry his bride across the threshold of their home,” he smirked.
Hermione huffed, even as she couldn’t help the smile sliding across her face like butter. Harry was such a romantic at times and he always managed to surprise her.
Harry stepped quickly into the house and deftly shut the door behind him, before carrying Hermione up the stairs.
“Harry!!! What are you doing now? We’ve crossed the silly threshold,” Hermione said.
“Not quite,” replied Harry as he carefully made his way towards a closed door.
He reached out and flung open the door, walking quickly he dumped Hermione on the bed, with a muffled whump.
“You’re such a jerk,” said Hermione as she hit him on the shoulder.
“Me? A jerk?” asked Harry with a wounded look on his face, “After I just carried you up that flight of stairs?”
“That part was nice”, began Hermione, “till you dumped me on the bed,” she finished.
Harry looked at her, “Well I guess you’ll just have to teach me how to do it properly,” he said with a wink.
Hermione gave him a contemplative look before she reached out and pulled him closer, “Well, first you could show me just how sorry you are,” she smirked at him.
Harry didn’t even have to think twice before he pinned Hermione to the bed and kissed that smirk off her face. He wound his hands through her hair as he took his time kissing her very thoroughly, showing her just how sorry he was.
She tried wiggling away from him, but with his weight crushing her, there was nowhere for her to go.
“Mmm…Harry…stop…” Hermione began.
He didn’t stop, only moving his assault down to her neck, nipping as he went along.
“Oh, that feels lovely, but Harry you need to stop, mmm…” she tried to push him away.
He pulled away and stared at her, “What’s wrong love?”
“We need to at least make the bed before anything else, there’s no real way to clean mattresses,” she said, almost sheepishly.
He grinned at her, “So all it takes is for me to make the bed before you’re willing to christen it?”
She hit him again before nodding, “Yes, make the bed and I’m yours.”
“Get ready then, for the quickest a bed will ever be made in your life,” he grinned as he reached for the box with sheets and linens.
He shook his head, it’s been too long since he had thought about the happier times in their marriage, but in the end she hadn’t been willing to fix anything and happy times aren’t enough.
Flopping onto the bed he reached out his wand and started pointing at the ceiling, each point resulted in a bright speck. After an indeterminate amount of points, he waved his wand and the entire ceiling turned dark and the specks became stars. Soon after a couple more enchantments, the ceiling of the bedroom now resembled the night sky.
The apartment was now complete, just the way he wanted it. Once again however, he had nothing to do. Even the supposedly long task of moving in and unpacking barely took him four hours. Watching the stray comet that flew across the ceiling he got up, his coworkers had been asking him if he wanted to get a drink with them, perhaps they were still at the bar.
Jumping in the shower he got ready in fifteen minutes and put on a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and a dark blue button-down, which he left unbuttoned, but rolled up the sleeves. Grabbing a light jacket, he threw it across his shoulders and strode out the door. It was time to move on from the past and get on with his life.
In his hurry, he had completely forgotten about the box with the picture still nestled inside. It had been pushed beside a cabinet almost hidden completely from view. The open flap slowly made it’s way back to the top of the box, shielding its contents from view. One last look revealed the picture, a couple of black bound journal-looking types and a black box.
A week after his arrival was the first free time Harry had in a long time; in the silence of his apartment he was bored. He was more accustomed to noise and motion rather than the stillness and quiet he was currently surrounded by. Looking around he thanked Sirius once again for giving him a Plan B, a way out, of his messy personal life.
He thought back to the catalyst for leaving and remembered holding the divorce papers with her name signed and dated neatly on each page. The tabs that noted where he was to sign his name were distant and cold; not at all, the woman he married. It was then he realized he had been fighting a losing battle from the start; she was unwilling to trust him.
Harry signed the thrice-damned papers and sent it back without a note, in the meantime he had contacted Sirius’, or rather his own now, solicitor to begin the move.
Recently, there had been talk upstairs that he was a strong candidate for the new department head. Even as everyone acknowledged he was talented and powerful, he had two things working against him – youth and lack of experience. To make up for his youth, he would need experience.
In the midst of the mess that was his personal life, he decided do just that. He heard of the position opening up in the States, and applied for the transfer. Moody, the current acting department head, had personally delivered the transfer approval, before saying gruffly,
“Potter, don’t let those Americans make you get soft. You have a week to get your affairs in order and then you’re due to report to the New York office in Manhattan first thing Monday morning.”
Before Moody could walk away from his office, Harry spoke up,
“Moody, do you mind not telling them about this just yet? I want to tell them myself.”
Moody smirked to himself, before nodding his assent, both knew who he was referring to. Walking away towards the lift Harry had stared at his retreating back until he turned the corner before beginning the task of packing up his office.
Harry considered the task of telling everyone in person, but thought it would be best not to, as their last meeting resulted in a screaming match.
Better that he just fade out of their lives, he didn’t belong there anymore. Looking forward was the only thing left to do, he sent off an owl to his solicitor telling him everything needed to be ready in a week.
That was three weeks ago, and here he was sitting alone in his apartment, in silence for the first time since his arrival. When he had arrived in New York, the first thing he noticed was the intense energy everyone had, before being pulled along into the rush.
There were a surprising amount of small details that needed to be taken care of upon his arrival. That and the increasingly, irritating newspaper articles, which he had seen to with a letter of his own and some clever charm work, had occupied the first two weeks so thoroughly he had barely unpacked more than the bare necessities.
Heaving a sigh he got up, this was a good a time as any to get started. Starting with the boxes closest to him he started unpacking and pulled out a picture frame. When he left London he had left all the trinkets that marked his life there; that is all except one thing – a picture of the Golden Trio in their happier times.
The picture was one of the few Muggle ones he had, he had wanted to save this particular moment in hopes everything would stay as perfect as it had been. The irony being three years later everything had fallen apart.
It was just a simple picture of Hermione, Ron and himself posing for the camera, or rather they were supposed to be posing for the camera. At the last minute, Ron stuck up bunny ears atop of Hermione’s head in which, she responded by attempting to shove him off-balance. However, Harry who had his arm around Hermione’s waist and an arm around Ron’s shoulder was caught off-balance and pulled them off their feet. The three tumbled to the ground just as the timer went off for the picture.
For a candid shot, it was a pretty good one; but to Harry it was the perfect picture – all three of them entangled, without any one of them the picture would be incomplete but together they were perfect.
After looking at the picture he slipped it back into the box, there wasn’t any room in his life just yet to take care of that problem. He had come here to get away from them, not dwell on it. Pushing the box away from him he reached for another, hopefully less emotionally involved box, if such a thing were possible.
It turned out the contain the contents of his living room, which with a few taps and waves of his wand had everything settled in a place remarkably similar to it’s former position across the ocean. Then again, that was what he was used to, as he looked out in satisfaction at the decidedly masculine living room.
Picking up the rest of the boxes he slowly made his way through the apartment, which really wasn’t as difficult as it seemed – with the help of magic of course. Harry for the most part had shrunk down his rooms and placed it in boxes for easy unpacking and storage. After hanging up his pots and pans he made his way towards the last room, one he’d been dreading and consciously avoided – the bedroom.
Now it shouldn’t have been difficult, after all he’d decorated an entire apartment in less than a day. Somehow, he had difficulty even contemplating the bedroom. After three years of not sleeping by himself, he was faced with a lonely bed once again. That would take getting used to.
Stepping in the doorway he slowly set up the room, making his way around the bed. As long as he concentrated on the mundane tasks he could avoid thinking about it as long as he could, until it was finally necessary. The time came of course, there was only so many times a man can rearrange his sock drawer before he wants to scream – they were that neat.
Turning around he faced the bed - the king-sized bed that looked ready to engulf him. That was what he was afraid of, being engulfed by the huge bed: being by himself and all. Shaking his head to clear the morbid thoughts he began to make the bed with his new sheets, first the fitted sheet, then the flat sheet, then the comforter, and finally the pillows. There that wasn’t so bad he thought sitting on the edge of the bed. Until he remembered the first time he and Hermione made their new bed in the new house.
“HARRY JAMES POTTER!!! Put me down this instant,” yelled Hermione when Harry swept her off her feet.
“Can’t do that love, a husband has to carry his bride across the threshold of their home,” he smirked.
Hermione huffed, even as she couldn’t help the smile sliding across her face like butter. Harry was such a romantic at times and he always managed to surprise her.
Harry stepped quickly into the house and deftly shut the door behind him, before carrying Hermione up the stairs.
“Harry!!! What are you doing now? We’ve crossed the silly threshold,” Hermione said.
“Not quite,” replied Harry as he carefully made his way towards a closed door.
He reached out and flung open the door, walking quickly he dumped Hermione on the bed, with a muffled whump.
“You’re such a jerk,” said Hermione as she hit him on the shoulder.
“Me? A jerk?” asked Harry with a wounded look on his face, “After I just carried you up that flight of stairs?”
“That part was nice”, began Hermione, “till you dumped me on the bed,” she finished.
Harry looked at her, “Well I guess you’ll just have to teach me how to do it properly,” he said with a wink.
Hermione gave him a contemplative look before she reached out and pulled him closer, “Well, first you could show me just how sorry you are,” she smirked at him.
Harry didn’t even have to think twice before he pinned Hermione to the bed and kissed that smirk off her face. He wound his hands through her hair as he took his time kissing her very thoroughly, showing her just how sorry he was.
She tried wiggling away from him, but with his weight crushing her, there was nowhere for her to go.
“Mmm…Harry…stop…” Hermione began.
He didn’t stop, only moving his assault down to her neck, nipping as he went along.
“Oh, that feels lovely, but Harry you need to stop, mmm…” she tried to push him away.
He pulled away and stared at her, “What’s wrong love?”
“We need to at least make the bed before anything else, there’s no real way to clean mattresses,” she said, almost sheepishly.
He grinned at her, “So all it takes is for me to make the bed before you’re willing to christen it?”
She hit him again before nodding, “Yes, make the bed and I’m yours.”
“Get ready then, for the quickest a bed will ever be made in your life,” he grinned as he reached for the box with sheets and linens.
He shook his head, it’s been too long since he had thought about the happier times in their marriage, but in the end she hadn’t been willing to fix anything and happy times aren’t enough.
Flopping onto the bed he reached out his wand and started pointing at the ceiling, each point resulted in a bright speck. After an indeterminate amount of points, he waved his wand and the entire ceiling turned dark and the specks became stars. Soon after a couple more enchantments, the ceiling of the bedroom now resembled the night sky.
The apartment was now complete, just the way he wanted it. Once again however, he had nothing to do. Even the supposedly long task of moving in and unpacking barely took him four hours. Watching the stray comet that flew across the ceiling he got up, his coworkers had been asking him if he wanted to get a drink with them, perhaps they were still at the bar.
Jumping in the shower he got ready in fifteen minutes and put on a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and a dark blue button-down, which he left unbuttoned, but rolled up the sleeves. Grabbing a light jacket, he threw it across his shoulders and strode out the door. It was time to move on from the past and get on with his life.
In his hurry, he had completely forgotten about the box with the picture still nestled inside. It had been pushed beside a cabinet almost hidden completely from view. The open flap slowly made it’s way back to the top of the box, shielding its contents from view. One last look revealed the picture, a couple of black bound journal-looking types and a black box.
Sign up to rate and review this story