Misplaced Flame
Harry hummed a song under his breath as he wrote in his journal and let his magic do its thing and cleaned up his new house nicely.
He really needed to thank Mrs. Weasley for drilling household charms upon his and Ron's head when they were finally free and mostly recovered from the war.
It would have taken Harry days to prepare and fix his house without the help of magic. But at some times he also prefers doing it the muggle way.
Cleaning was a therapeutics in its own way. While Harry would forever loathe cleaning upon orders of others due to his own upbringing with the Dursleys, he actually enjoys cleaning and cooking when he likes it.
Remembering the Weasleys and the Burrow made Harry's mood plummet and the air around him still.
It has been two years since he had last seen them. Two years since he had been stuck in this odd world with no magic.
Harry would like to blame it all on Potter luck and it didn't help that the cursed day was Halloween too.
He had woken up that day with a burning feeling in his gut that said wrongwrongsomethingpreparewrong. And Harry knew to always trust his gut feeling, it has never failed him before. The one time he did refuse his instinct was at the cost of Sirius's life. He wasn't about to make the same mistakes again.
His mind and instincts were rebelling and causing him to act skittish and on edge. It screamed at him that something very wrong was going to happen and with Halloween, he knew something will.
Last Halloween his instinct flared as well but not as strong as that day. And it ended up with him lost in the Ruins of Athens for nearly a month and penniless and in-debt when he owed a bunch of Greek Hedge witches.
Right after he landed back in Britain he immediately went to Gringotts and cleaned up his vaults and kept them with him since.
Harry only needed a few gold on his body so he wouldn't end up nearly sold like last time, but he had then noticed the rising tension between him and the goblins that he had thought had lessened after paying for the damage he had brought when he stole the dragon and Hufflepuff cup from Bellatrix's vault.
It was then that he discovered that the Goblins had a new king, one that apparently didn't like him at all. And wow, Harry wanted to be surprised but with how his days ended up, he wasn't.
So he cleaned up his vault to prevent any possible mishap that he knew was going to happen.
He was glad when he did because a few weeks after, a couple of wizards mysteriously lost their claim at their vaults and it continued until a coup erupted and the new king was replaced with another.
But Harry still wasn't trusting his inheritance with the goblins.
Really, Potter luck. It fucks you up and manages to save your ass just in time.
So when his instincts flared worse and brought headaches like no before. Harry knew to be prepared.
He was right when he was called upon by his fellow curse breakers to check up on some ruins in Italy that were newly discovered.
After the war, Harry lost the motivation to join the Aurors. He already had enough of fighting within his life, he didn't need anymore.
Hermione had been understanding enough and after a couple of weeks Ron did warm up to the idea too although the redhead was still hellbent on becoming an Auror himself.
With a little help from Bill, the oldest Weasley siblings managed to pull some strings and introduce Harry to curse breaking.
He had been a curse breaker for nearly 5 years and was proud of it.
During the excavation of the ruins, Harry had lost contact with the other and had fallen into a large hole when the floor below him collapsed. He roughly landed on a site that looked too eerly like a ritual circle and when he flared his magic, the world went white.
It was then he found himself in this new world. He had spent a year trying to find signs of magic and try to get back to his own world.
But Harry discovered to his horror that there was no magic in this world. He tried to find magical communities and even did magic in public once out of desperation to see if an obliviator would come. But none. He was alone in this world.
Depression had hit him hard. He nearly gave up and tried to end things so he would at least meet his parents, Sirius, Remus —everyone— again. But he only ended up back in the train station with his mother looking upon him with tears in her eyes.
"Harry, my sweet Harry. I'm sorry"
Sadness clung upon her like a cloak and the very same emerald eyes he had were brimming with tears.
"M–mom"
He had choked out with a hoarse throat, his own eyes wide and brimming with tears. He had been so tired and scared, he wanted to be back home.
Harry ran to her and pulled her into a tight hug, desperately clinging to her and the only familiar thing he had seen upon landing in the new world.
She had sobbed and so did he.
"I'm sorry Harry but you can't join us"
Lily cried as she embraced him and placed a soothing hand on his cheek.
"B-but why! I can't– I– Mom! I'm alone and I don't know! I don't know anything and everyone is gone! Hermione, Ron, Bill– Everyone! I'm alone. I can't"
Harry had desperately begged her and whatever god was out there. For death to allow him entrance. But he was calmed down by his mother and explained that this was fated. That his continued life did not lie within his own world.
Lily wanted him to be happy. Everyone who loved him wanted him to be happy and live.
So despite the deep gash on his throat that Harry knew he had carved upon his neck. He woke up in his own puddle of blood without a single scratch.
It took him another year to try to cope with all this mess but he did manage. It was a hard journey. But not nearly as painful as the journey he went through during the war. It also helped that for some miracle that only Luna could bring, the airy blond sometimes appears during his dreams and talks to him.
She was his connection to his old world and was the one to help him move on with news and promises.
His old world was safe and his friends would mourn his leaving but they would survive. So would he.
Now living in Italy, in a sanguine town at Florence. He bought a large plot of land and built a nice medium-sized cottage within the heart of the land, right next to the river.
Harry Potter may have lost his world then. Yet he was nothing, if not a survivor. Because Harry knows that he may not be able to see or talk with his family or friends again. But he remembers they are alive and are happy in his old world. And that is all he needs.