apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓

• three •

The apartment in which Harry resided wasn't a big one, but he was perfectly content with it.

Upon opening the door and walking past the threshold, he came upon the living room, which was easily the biggest room of his house – and perhaps too big, he noted, for had it been made a couple of more square feet smaller, there would have been more space for the other rooms. But no matter – he had lived in a cramped cupboard for ten years of his life, and he wasn't a particularly picky person by nature.

In fact, he loved his apartment. The idea that it was his very own apartment, paid for by his very own money, had a sort of instant attraction to it, and Harry felt that after years of fighting for the wizarding world, and despite all the losses he has encountered – that he was still, till now, trying to cope with – he could safely say that he was happy. Of course, there were the nightmares he had to deal with, the incessant goggling passersby he had to endure, the interviews that never seemed to end, and the rumours that were constantly circulating around the wizarding world, and all those other things that were almost synonymous to being popular, or rather, a celebrity – a term that he didn't quite enjoy associating himself with.

But Harry has learnt to live with it. It wasn't very new anyway – he had had to endure staring and nightmares and rumours since his school days, but being in an influential position at the Ministry made the situation only worse. He had Ron of course, who, as always, stood by him and helped him live through his days, and kept him from losing his temper, which has become quite a common occurrence nowadays.

The only problem was, they weren't talking.

As he walked into his bedroom, his bed beckoned tantalisingly at him, and his body was already shutting down, drowsiness coursing through his veins and taking up his energy. But his stomach rumbled with hunger, so he splashed cold water in his face, changed, and went to the kitchen to have his dinner.

It has been a long day today, consisting of endless hours of chasing a group of wizards who have been going around and wreaking havoc in muggle areas. Despite Voldemort being gone, such people still sprouted here and there, attempting to unleash their hatred of muggles on the innocent people, though their attempts more than often ended up being futile. Nevertheless, the work of the Aurors never ended, and Harry usually returned home worn out.

He finished his dinner quickly, having eaten only a small amount, and after leaving his plate on the sink which was already overflowing with dishes from three days ago, he collapsed into his bed and snuggled up amidst the light cotton sheets, letting out a long, tired breath through his lips. There was no moon in the sky tonight, and the only light that illuminated his room came from the sodium street lamps. After a few minutes, however, they were turned off, and Harry was engulfed in darkness.

That night, he dreamed of chasing bad guys with ridiculously childish masks plastered over their faces, though their manic grins made them look far from childish. Their tattered clothes were soon replaced by long, dark robes embroidered with the dark mark on the back. The snake that acted as a tongue of the skull slithered and hissed at him, glittering silver as it caught the moonlight, and before he could blink, it turned into a real, gigantic snake, its eyes red and malicious. Its body coiled and coiled, and all the while slid towards him across the cobblestoned pathway. He threw curses at it, but his hand faltered when he saw a figure caught between the large coils. A figure with fiery red hair, and a horribly terrified look in her eyes.

He tried to cry out, but no sound came from his mouth. When his wand refused to work, he abandoned it completely and began to run, chasing the snake, but the distance between them never decreased, as though he was running on a treadmill. All of a sudden, a flash was seen and Ginny's figure burst into flames, before it was replaced by Ron's.