After the War

Chapter 13

With a satisfying pop, they squeezed through the dark nothingness and appeared on another street, as different to the first as possible. This one had identical houses lining the street with perfectly manicured lawns, respectable cars all shined to perfection, and garden posts running neatly along the edges at exactly equal distances. The only visible similarity would be that one house had also been somewhat destroyed.

"You're right. I think you've lost it, mate," Ron said in awe, looking at the street sign that read 'Privet Drive.'

"Why did you want to come here?" Hermione asked apprehensively.

"Well, one I had to leave some stuff behind last year so I want to see if there's anything that I might still want. Two, Dedalus told me at the Ministry that the Death Eaters had blown up parts of it, so I wanted to see that and possibly blow up more of it depending on how I feel."

"Wicked," Ron whispered, a grin spreading across his face.

"Three," he paused and shuffled his feet uncertainly. "Well three is that you told me I tend to close up and not talk about my past and I realized that I-I think I'm finally starting to get that. So, I figured coming here might help me open up a bit." He shrugged and gazed at the building he had lived at for so long, yet he had never quite considered it a home. There was no car in the driveway meaning that the Dursleys weren't home. He knew that he should feel relieved, yet some part of him was disappointed that he wouldn't see them as an of-age wizard who was finally able to do whatever magic he pleased. He could have cursed or jinxed them all into next week and not get in trouble. Being close friends to the Minister of Magic and the Head of Laws Regarding Muggles certainly had its perks.

"Oh," Hermione responded in surprise, dragging him back to the present and out of his daydreams imagining which hexes he would first use against them. She opened her mouth, but closed it again shortly, deciding to follow his lead. Harry walked along the sidewalk that he had walked so many times before, but now with an air of purpose. He walked quickly towards the house when in the past, he had always dragged out the last block or two to stop himself from getting there too quickly. He ignored the faces he saw peeking out of the curtains as he passed by the neighbors and ignored the mother with her child crossing the road to avoid 'that Potter boy.'

They approached the house and Ron stepped back from the door to allow Harry to enter when he chose. Harry withdrew his wand from his pocket, relying on Hermione and Ron to block the view from any muggles wandering behind him. With a whispered "Alohomora" the door clicked open and he turned the handle to enter the house.

The front of the house was exactly as he remembered it. The hallway still stood with the light wood panels on the floor, leading to the white door marking the entrance to the kitchen. Although, the kitchen door hung off of the hinges, giving them a view of the damaged half of the house. He walked through the gap and saw the once pristine living room and kitchen in shambles. It was blown into pieces and the rooms from above it had come crashing down, combining into one unrecognizable mess.

"That was the living room, right?" Ron asked excitedly pointing to the left.

"Yeah," Harry said, not really feeling any sadness at the destruction.

"Remember when we came through there before fourth year? And Dad had to blow up the fireplace and then George and... and Fred gave Dudley those treats?" he rambled on wistfully. Though his excitement broke at the mention of the twins.

"One of my best memories of this place," Harry said to lighten the mood again. He raised his wand and pointed it at the couch that still stood intact, although covered in shrapnel. With a quick flick, the couch flew into the air and came crashing down in two pieces with Harry smiling in the doorframe.