Harry Potter One Shots

Searching

All rights belong to the author, ZeldaOphelia

In the days following the defeat of Voldemort, Harry found himself at a crux in his life. He had two choices, the way he saw it. Either he could become an Auror; go through the training and enter the Ministry; (and rise through the ranks and eventually replace Kingsley - he heard the talk.) Or he could play Quidditch; join a team and travel the world; (and never have a spare moment to himself without the gossip rags stirring up lies - he had already been there with Rita Skeeter.) Harry carefully weighed his options, holed away in the house at 12 Grimmauld Place where he was free of spectators. He made lists filled with Pros and Cons of both of his potential choices. Then he made his decision.

He chose neither.

It took nearly six years for Hermione Granger to manage to track down her best friend.

She had looked everywhere for him, it seemed like. When it had been discovered that he was gone, the entire Wizarding World had looked for him. A day wouldn't go by when someone hadn't see Harry Potter in Bulgaria/Turkmenistan/Quebec or somewhere else. Every week there had been a new theory as to Why Harry Potter Disappeared, ranging from a Secret Love Child with Gabrielle Delacour to the fact that he had been In Love with Nymphadora Tonks and couldn't live without her. Each hypothesis was more ridiculous than the last. And it seemed like the citizens of the Wizarding World ate it all up, every last one of them. Hermione was just beginning to despair for the sanity of the magical population when the Quibbler, of all publications, published a long, well thought out essay as to why it thought Harry had gone. Because he just wanted to be Harry. Not Harry Potter. Not The Boy Who Lived. Not The Man Who Defeated Voldemort. But to just be a normal person living a normal life. She could have kissed Luna, if she hadn't thought Ginny'd hex her.

The Wizarding World, as a whole, ignored it and went on with business as usual. And so did she.

Never once did she mention the letter she had found under her pillow the night after Harry left. Never once did she suggest to Ron that they go to find him together. (Not that he would have agreed. Once he got over his pout about how Harry had abandoned him, he quickly turned back to Lavender Brown for solace. Now, six years later, they were already giving Molly a run for her knuts in number of children produced.) Never once did she approach the Ministry or the Order with the clues she had pulled from the other anonymous messages she had received. Letters that could only be from Harry.

Luna was right. He needed space.

But, five and a half years was more than enough space, thank you very much. She missed her best friend. And Hermione Granger was nothing if not organized. It didn't take her long to compile all of the sightings, rumors and hypotheses about his disappearance. It took even less to pull together the notes that had arrived at odd intervals since he left. She started with the clues found within those letters, apparating to the far reaches of the globe for the slightest evidence of him. That resulted with nothing more than a poison ivy rash, a bite (or two or three) from a swarm of army ants and an unexpected encounter with a rhinoceros. Refusing to become despondent over being unable to find him, she pored over the papers from years before. Every sighting was followed up, every place visited, no stone unturned.

No Harry.

Hermione was quite ready to give up after six months of searching. Perhaps he didn't want to be found, she told herself. Even if none of his letters said that, perhaps he thought it was understood. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Each despondent thought drew her further into herself as she wandered, trying to not lose her hope. Finally even she had had enough, deciding that if Harry was to be found it was up to him.

One week later she found herself avoiding the celebrations of Voldemort's defeat, something the entire Wizarding World turned into a week long party. She couldn't bring herself to join in the revelry, she felt too empty inside. Hermione, instead, spent the time braving the blazing summer heat to visit extended family she rarely saw. Today it was her Great-Aunt and Uncle Granger, where she spent the afternoon in their stifling hot home with only weak lemonade for refreshment. A small greengrocer's had caught her eye on her walk in from the Apparition point, so on her return she stepped inside for a cold fizzy drink. Setting her selection on the counter, she glanced up at the man behind the register.