After That - 4

Harry woke up early the next morning. It was more out of habit than anything. Still, he decided to take advantage of it. He changed into some comfortable clothes and went for a jog around the block a few times. Once that was complete, he stretched his warmed muscles then moved on to the actual exercise. He didn't have the facilities like he did back at Grimmauld, but he made do sticking to basic calisthenics. A healthy body did wonders for witches and wizards. Most didn't bother with it, letting their magic keep their bodies in working order, but actual effort was rewarded. Spells had a higher baseline power, casting flowed smoothly, and he found the extra stamina gave him an edge when dodging was the best option.

He took full advantage of the newly acquired backyard. It was a bit overgrown, but it was down to a comfortable length with a spell that Mister Weasley had taught him while tending to the garden. Once it was clear he wandlessly transfigured some abandoned lawn décor into free weights. The sun here seemed to be a completely different version than the sort he had grown up with. He had to strip off his shirt once it was soaked with sweat.

Gone was the scrawny, underfed kid of his early years. His lithe form was made for speed and agility. Wiry muscles sculpted from actual use were given legitimacy by a patchwork of scars scattered across his body. Fighting upstart dark lords, feral creatures, and the occasional golem had only increased the evidence of his adventures. He found it funny that he was known for the mostly faded scar on his forehead rather than the myriad he had picked up once the war was over.

"Nice form," Buffy called from the neighboring backyard.

Harry dropped the weights in his hand and spun toward the sound with his wand raised before he registered the words. The blonde girl raised her eyebrows at the sight.

"That's not much of a stake," she smiled at him. "You're holding it wrong too."

"It's not a stake," Harry replied.

He pointed it at the weights, changing them back to the ugly décor while maintaining eye contact with her. She let out a low whistle.

"Impressive," she said. "Sorry about last night, I was a little standoffish."

"A strange man appears at your door in the middle of the night," he shrugged. "It's perfectly understandable that you'd be suspicious. Toss in all the vampires and other things running around simply compound the issue. Not to mention the emotional reunion I so elegantly stomped all over."

"You know about the vampires?" Buffy asked walking up to the fence that bordered the yards. "And you still decided to take a walk at night?"

"My business ran longer than expected," Harry started his cooldown stretches. "I would invite you over, but my cupboards are empty."

"Want me to show you where the grocery store is?" She asked.

"That's the Pig Wiggle?" Harry asked in return.

"Piggly Wiggly," she corrected. "They don't have those in London?"

"I wouldn't know," Harry said with a smile. "I didn't spend much time on the muggle side."

"Muggle?" Buffy asked wrinkling her nose.

He had to admit, it was cute.

"Non-magical," Harry corrected. "They call it No-Maj here."

"No-Maj? Buffy shook her head. "That's even worse."

"I agree," Harry chuckled. "Do you have a car?"

"No license," Buffy replied.

"Do you have any plans for the day?" Harry asked.

"We just got back from a school meeting," Buffy sighed.

"That sounds promising," Harry chuckled.

"The principal is a sad little troll of a man," she said. "I don't suppose you have a spell to help with that."

"I do, in fact, have something that would work," Harry replied with a sly smile.

"You're serious?" Buffy straightened.

"No, I'm Harry," he replied.

She stared at him with a flat expression. Harry sighed. One day that joke would land.

"Yes," Harry said. "There are quite a few spells that could make him do whatever you want." He paused. "But I won't do them unless lives are in danger. I've had more experience with them than I would ever care to remember."

"Ick," Buffy said.

"Indeed," Harry replied. "Let me get changed and we can walk to the store?"

"How long are we talking here?" Buffy asked. "I don't have much to do with my friends in school, but I'd rather not wait around while you shower."

Harry waved his wand in front of him in a tight circle. The sweat and grime on his body vanished, his clothes freshened, and his hair sprang back to its usual mess.

"That's handy," Buffy chuckled. "Do you still brush your teeth?"

"Yes," Harry grimaced. "It tastes like old soap."

"Ick," Buffy smiled. "I'll meet you out front."

Harry went into the house and changed into a set of magical clothes that were made in a casual muggle style. Lavender did amazing work. He exclusively bought his clothing from her boutique. Her enchantments accepted his own additions with glorious simplicity.

Buffy was waiting out front just as she said. They started their walk to the store.

"What brings you here?" Buffy asked. "You're not Giles' long-lost son, are you?"

"No," he smiled. "Definitely not. He seems like a good person, but I'm not in the market for another mentor figure."

"Another?" Buffy asked.

"That's a question for another time," Harry replied.

"Got it," she said. "So… why are you here?"

He took a deep breath then let it out, "I had to get away. It was all too much."

"Yeah," Buffy said softly. "I get that."

"Let's change to a happier topic," Harry offered. "Coffee or tea?"

"Neither" Buffy shuddered. "Both are horrible."

"That they are," Harry said. "I've learned to endure coffee."

"Not tea?" Buffy teased. "Isn't that like treason for you?"

"Bad coffee and horrible food are universal staples of law enforcement," Harry gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Aren't you a little young to be a cop?" Buffy asked.

"Aren't you a little young to be a slayer?" He countered.

"I didn't have a choice," she grumbled.

"Neither did I," he grumbled along with her.

She looked at him, raising her eyebrows in an unspoken question.

"It was one of the reasons I needed to leave," Harry said. "Everyone wanted me to solve their problems. I didn't question it at first. It was a natural progression. I told myself it was another step closer to the freedom I wanted."

"But there was always another problem to solve," her voice was tired. "I get it."

They settled into silence for a couple of streets.

"I wrote my friends some letters after talking to your mother," he said. "Otherwise, my friends would think I needed to be rescued."

"Even when you're the one that does all the rescuing," she added softly.

"Hermione would say she came to bring me home, but she's just as reckless as I am," Harry chuckled. "Ron is even worse. I still don't know how we survived this long." His smile faded. "They have their own lives. They deserve to be happy."

"I thought we changed the topic from depressing to not," Buffy bumped his shoulder with her own.

"Sorry," Harry gave her an empty smile. "Your turn to pick a topic."

"You're a sorcerer?" She asked.

"Wizard," he corrected.

"Wizard," she repeated. "How's that work?"

"Some people are born with magic," Harry replied. "My father was a Pureblood. My mother was a muggle-born. A first generation magical. The rest of her family didn't have magic. They met in school. I went to the same one when I was old enough."

Buffy didn't asked about the use of past-tense. He was thankful for that. Their conversation paused as they made it to the store and got a cart.

"A school for slayers would be amazing," she groaned. "Staking one-oh-one."

"How many slayers are there?" He asked.

"Just me," she replied. "Once a generation a slayer is born. A new one is picked when the current one dies." She paused. "There was another, Kendra, but she…"

"Understood," he said.

They fell into another moment of silence. This one didn't last nearly as long.

"But," Harry said after a few seconds. "How was there another one? You don't look dead."

"I died," she shrugged. "For a few minutes. It was enough to wake her slayer powers."

She braced herself for the inevitable questions about being dead.

"This is getting weird," Harry muttered.

"I know, it's not every day you meet someone that's died and got better," she muttered.

"No, it's not that," he smiled at her. "I died for a few minutes too."

"That's not funny," Buffy glared at him.

"Dark Lord hit me with a Killing Curse to the face," Harry said in the same way someone would comment about the weather. "Came back and killed him."

"That is weird," Buffy wrinkled her nose in thought. "Next you'll tell me you're the chosen one."

Harry flashed a crooked smile.

"No," Buffy shook her head. "That's not possible."

"That's what I thought once," Harry shrugged. "It seems to be more common than you'd think. Prophecy, chosen one, evil morons that need to be stopped."

"And you just happened to buy a vacation home on a Hellmouth?" Buffy asked. "That doesn't sound like someone looking for peace and quiet."

"Sunnydale is one of the places with enough magic to stop them from finding me," Harry explained. "I don't like cities and there is no way I'm going anywhere in Maine."

"Maine?" She asked.

"You don't know about Maine?" Harry asked in reply. "There are books."

"Those are real?" Buffy gawked at him.

"Some liberties were taken," Harry answered. "Not nearly enough for me to want to take the chance."

Buffy shuddered. She took a moment to look at the cart to see it had somehow filled to the brim during their conversation.

"You do realize we have to carry all of this back?" She asked.

"I'll handle it," he replied with a wink.

~

"Magic is totally cheating," Buffy muttered as he returned the bags of groceries to their proper size.

"Isn't it great?" Harry gave her his best smile.

"You're not as cute as you think," Buffy said.

A blush spread along her cheeks as she realized she had spoken the words out loud.

"I prefer roguishly handsome," he countered.

Buffy shuffled her feet a little. She looked around the room for something to spark a conversation that wouldn't prolong her embarrassment.

"Your sense of décor is interesting," she commented. "Grandma chic."

"The furniture was included," he replied.

"Oh," Buffy winced. "Right. That makes sense."

"At least I got rid of the old-person smell," Harry tried to lighten the mood. "I need to get some new furniture. Is there a place like that in town?"

"Probably," she shrugged. "You should ask my mom."

"Do you want to stay for lunch?" Harry offered.

"I don't know," she put a little teasing lilt in her voice. "I've heard horror stories about British food."

"They are all true," Harry said nodding. "I was thinking spaghetti."

"Sounds tasty," Buffy replied. "Need any help?"

"Are you good with a knife?" Harry asked.

"Am I good with a knife?" She scoffed. "No, I'm horrible in the kitchen. I was offering to be polite."

"Thanks for the honesty," he said. "Take a seat. Tell me about yourself."

"I'm the slayer," Buffy said simply.

"That's part of you," Harry prompted. "What about the rest?"

"Uh," Buffy thought for a long moment. "I don't know. That's pretty much my life."

"Any siblings?" Harry asked.

"Nope, just me," Buffy replied. "You?"

"Same for me," he answered. "Hobbies outside of slaying?"

"I go to the Bronze with my friends," she shrugged.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"It's a dance club, bar thing," she explained. "Teenage friendly atmosphere, live bands, and comfy seating. I was planning on going by there later tonight during patrol."

"Are you going to meet Willow and Xander there?" Harry asked.

"How do you know about them?" Buffy tensed.

"I met them…" he paused in thought. "The night before last. This is day three of my life in Sunnydale. I stayed the night in Giles' living room the first night."

"You've met my watcher, my friends, and mom," she gave a dry chuckle. "Slay some vampires and you've got the full Sunnydale welcome."

"I did that last night," Harry shrugged. "That reminds me. I need to learn how to fight."

"You don't know how to fight?" She asked. "How did you get all those scars?"

"Wizards think physical violence is beneath them. Punching someone is considered barbaric at best," he clarified. "I can trade spells with the best of them, a kick to the face from a vampire isn't the same."

"How did you beat the vampire last night?" She asked.

"Luck, a bit of magic, and my sword," he replied.

"Your sword?" Buffy smiled. "That doesn't sound very wizardly."

Harry held out his hand. The Sword of Gryffindor appeared in his grasp. Her eyes went wide at the weapon suddenly appearing.

"Nice sword," she said.

He set it on the little kitchen island in front of her, "take a look. Just hold the grip, don't touch the blade, not even the flat part."

"I know how to hold a sword," she teased.

Buffy picked it up. She stepped away for some more space to try it out.

"The balance is perfect," she said as she performed a flawless spin. "It looks like a display piece, not a real weapon, but I could see using this."

"I wonder how some of the monsters around here would react to basilisk venom," Harry mused as he watched her.

"Basilisk venom?" She froze.

"It's made from Goblin Silver," he explained.

"That's good?" Buffy asked.

"Goblin Silver can absorb the properties of potions, venom, and blood," he said. "Basilisk venom is some of the deadliest in the world. Well, the wizarding world. I'm quickly learning that my knowledge isn't as complete as I thought."

"Welcome to my life," she muttered as she carefully placed the sword back on the counter.

Harry dismissed it with a thought.

"That's handy," she said.

"It took a while to figure out how to do it," he said. "I dropped it more than I'd like to admit."

"Then why are you telling me?" She asked with a grin.

"From one chosen one to another," he rolled his eyes. "I am under no illusion that we have drastically different skillsets."

"Do you think you could teach me some magic?" She asked. "You know, if I help you train to fight like a barbarian?"

Harry thought for a moment. He summoned his repaired Holly and Pheonix Feather wand then held it out to her.

"Tell me if you feel anything," he said.

She took the offered wand, "now what?"

"You didn't connect to the wand," he said. "Either it doesn't work for you, or you don't have magic. I don't have enough wands to test."

"What about that one you had this morning?" She asked.

Harry shook his head, "that one is mine."

"Got it," Buffy held the Holly and Pheonix Feather wand out for him to take.

"Lunch is ready," Harry said. "Do you want to eat here or at the table?"

"Here," she said. "It's cozy. Are there meatballs?"

"Would it be spaghetti without them?" Harry asked in his best impression of Malfoy.

"Yeah," she said. "But not as tasty."

Conversation stopped as they started to eat. He took her silence as a sign that she liked his cooking. It was one of the skills outside of magic that he was rather proud of. His old habits meant he had made enough to feed at least ten people. Part of him had thought Buffy would need extra calories with all that she did. Magic needed fuel to work. It was one of the reasons that witches and wizards ate every meal like a feast. Ron was the perfect example. His appetite was something of a known joke, but there was an actual reason for it. He was using a hand-me-down wand that wasn't attuned to him. That meant he had to burn more magic for his spells to work which led to a need for more calories. His portion sizes dropped noticeably once he had his own wand.

"Thanks for lunch," Buffy said. "I'm going to go home before I drop into a food coma."

"That sounds like a plan," Harry chuckled.

"I know this is sudden," she paused at the front door. "Do you want to come on patrol with me tonight? Not in the thick of things. Just…" she shrugged. "You don't have to. If you don't want to."

"I'd like that," Harry said. "I need something to do or I'll go crazy."

"See you tonight," Buffy said. "I'm going to take a nap."

Harry put the pot of sauce and the noodles in stasis while he searched the cupboards for something to store the leftovers. He found a mix of recycled food containers that would work. The remaining spaghetti fit into three tubs of butter, two whipped topping, and one actual plastic bin. He added Tupperware to the mental list of things he needed to pick up on his next trip to the store.

He set an alarm, then stretched out on the couch. Spaghetti was great for a food coma.