How I Met Your Father

Chapter 1

Dad grinned in a manner that didn't reassure him at all. "I'll do my best," he promised. "It all started twenty years ago. The war was over and I had just finished Hogwarts, ready to face the world with a bright and shiny new future. Of course, I wasn't alone. I was sharing a flat with your Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. It was the best time of our lives. We were young, drunk on our hope and dreams. It was a wonderful time to be alive..."

~*~*~*~*~YEAR 1~*~*~*~*~

"My life is over," Harry mumbled, gazing despondently into the depths of his third beer. "I want to die. If you were my real friends, you would kill me now."

Even the cheerful din and clamour of the Leaky Cauldron couldn't drown out Ron's groan of dismay. They were sitting in what all three of them thought of as 'their booth' now. A little island tucked away at the back, with Harry seated on one side and Ron and Hermione wedged in on the other. It was an old haunt - one that they had frequented ever since they'd all graduated from Hogwarts two years ago. It was a place they associated with cheap beer, good food and a lot of laughs.

All things considered, Harry had definitely seen better days here.

Hermione suppressed an eye roll and patted Harry's shoulder in a placating manner. "So things didn't work out with Gloria," she said, in that practiced soothing manner of hers. "It's hardly the end of the world, Harry."

"Yes, it is," Harry insisted moodily. "I loved her, Mione. She was perfect."

"Um, no," Ron declared firmly. "She supported the Holyhead Harpies."

Hermione sighed and fixed her boyfriend with an exasperated expression. "Really, Ron?"

"There are boundaries, Mione."

Well, Harry had to admit he made a good point. It was the Chudley Cannons or nothing as far as he was concerned. "Fine," he conceded. "Besides that, she was perfect. And I'm never going to find another one like her."

"And whose fault is that, my frumpy friend?"

Ron groaned again, and with good reason. Blaise Zabini ignored him as he strutted up to their table, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. Harry had to admit he could pull it off. Blaise was the only person he knew who could walk into the Leaky Cauldron in an Armani Classic and not get laughed right back out.

"Have you learnt nothing from me, Harry?" the man demanded as he took his seat. "What did I tell you? I'll tell you what I told you. I told you to wear a suit. A suit, Harry! Just once when I say suit up, I'd like you to actually suit up."

"I did that one time," Harry protested half heartedly.

"That was a blazer," Blaise retorted with an exaggerated shudder.

Ron threw his arms up in defeat. "Again, someone please explain it to me. Why do we hang out with this bloke?"

"Ah, allow me to elaborate on that," Blaise replied smoothly. "You Weasley, may think of me as a guide, a prophet if you will..."

"No, I won't."

"You see, everything in life happens for a reason. It's like my father always said. The universe works in strange and subtle ways but a wise man is one who makes it work for him."

Hermione frowned. "I thought your father always said never insult the person who handles your food."

"That was my first father, Granger. Try to keep up. Anyway as I was saying, I'm here to impart my wisdom, to guide you on your darkened paths and lead you to salvation. I, gentlemen, am here to teach you how to live. Except you Weasley, you're shackled to this one." He gestured disparagingly at Hermione who scowled and smacked his arm.