Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than the story line . All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. Blantant rip-off from Chumbawumba used without remorse...

Survivor's Guilt

Chapter One: A Face From the Past

It had taken her some time to track him down. It seemed that he did not want to be found, in spite of his celebrity status. He had almost literally fallen off the face of the planet.

She tracked him to a small pub in a small town in Ireland. It turned out that Finnegan's was owned by one of her old school mates. She had always gotten on well with him. She hoped that their shared past would count for something when she went into his establishment.

She walked into the pub like she owned the place. Always best to make an entrance, she thought as heads turned to see her. A few stares and not just a couple of wolf whistles greeted her as she sauntered up to the bar.

"Ah lass, I never did expect to see you pass through my doors. It is good to see you again." The proprietor himself greeted her with a cold bottle of butterbeer as she sat down on a barstool.

"As it is to see you too, Seamus," she replied with a demure smile. "It's been a long time."

"Aye, too long. How's Lavender?"

"She's doing very well, as you already know," she said with a knowing wink.

"Aye, that I do," he replied with a chuckle. "Now, what can I do for you? Surely ye didna come all this way just to see me."

"You know me too well Seamus. Actually I came looking for a mutual acquaintance, if you catch my meaning," she whispered to him.

"Ah, you'd be looking for Harry then, would you?"

"I have some business with him, yes."

"That'd be him over in the corner there," he said, gesturing towards a far table. "He comes in here every day at opening, and drinks either till we close, or till he passes out. 'Tis a shame to see, it really is. Always pays in cash though. His money's always good in my book, after what the poor bastard's been through. We owe him everything, we do."

"You'll get no argument from me Seamus. I'm well aware of what he's done. I'm also very much aware of what he's lost. Everything and then some. No wonder he's here all the time. If I'd gone through what he had, I'd drink to forget as well."

She watched in fascination as he reached for the first bottle on the table. There were four bottles in all. The gaunt young man looked carefully at it, as if making sure that it was what he thought it was, and placed it to his lips. He took a long draught from it, and then let out a long sigh, setting the bottle back down.

She looked back to Seamus. "It's always the same," he said. "Firs' he takes a swig of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. Then he'll sit there for a few minutes and take a big swill o' Russian vodka. After he's had a couple of minutes to process that one he takes a pull off a bottle o' Aussie lager. Used ta drink it from the pint, until he started breakin' me glasses, then I started just givin' 'im the bo'les, I did." He shook his head miserably. "Then he swigs down a shot o' hard cider as some sorta chaser. After a while he starts all over again.

"Every night?"

"Aye lass, ev'ry night."

"And that's all he does, just sit there and drink?"

"Oh no. Often times he'll stand up and sing. Likes to sing the ole 'ogwart's song. I think it reminds him of better times. Course, they'd be a lot better for 'Im. 'adn't lost as much then, 'ad he?"

She looked over to him, pain in her eyes. "Why does it always happen to the best ones, Seamus? He treated me well at school. He let me have my moment in the spotlight, back in fourth year."

"That he did lass. It was a difficult time for him ya know."

"I do now. I don't think I did then."

"Now, I think he'd welcome back those concerns. It must have been hard to see his best friend struck down like that."

"And his fiancé, don't forget that."

"Aye. Rumor says that she sacrificed herself that he might succeed."

"She did Seamus. I'll never in all my years forget that. Harry was broken from watching Ron murdered in front of him. She grabbed the murder weapon, a wicked looking dagger and, looking him straight in the eye, muttered a spell and drove it into her own heart. He watched the light of life fade from her eyes as she died in his arms. I've never seen anything like it in my life. It was like he became filled with a righteous anger. You-Know-Who never stood a chance."

"What spell was it that she said?"

"I don't know, but the incantation was in latin. I looked it up afterwards. It translates as 'love's true sacrifice provides the way, the truth and the life.' Harry took the Big Bad apart in a moment. I don't think he even knew he was dead. I got there a few moments later. Harry had already collapsed by this time. They carted him and Hermione off straight to St. Mungo's."

"Whatever happened to her after that?"

"She's been in the psych ward since them. Took it even harder than he did. They're all heroes of the war you know."

"Aye, I'd heard that. I heard that they have a memorial to all those that fell in the war."

"It's at the Ministry building. Harry was there for the dedication, but he disapparated before they could get him to say anything. No-one knew where he had gone. It took me a long time to track him down Seamus."

"Ah lassie, I don't ever tell on a patron, especially not one that I owe as much to as I do to him."

She nodded and looked back at Harry. He was rousing himself to take a drink from the fourth bottle now.

"You better get to him before he gets too far along lass, if you want him to be coherent 'nuff to un'erstan'."

She nodded and got up to walk over to the table. "Hello Harry," she said, her voice a pleasantly friendly contralto.

Harry picked his head up off of the table. It appeared that he hadn't bathed in probably a month, at least. The stench was formidable. His clothes reminded her of professor Lupin's during third year. They were very thread bare, and stained, as if he just didn't care what he looked like, though truthfully, he probably didn't.

His eyes took a few moments to focus on her. "'Vati?"

"Yes Harry, it's me, Parvati."

"What you doin' here, 'Vati?"

"Why looking for you silly."

"'m a mess…"

"Yes Harry, you are. I'm here to change that."

"Why?"

"Because an old friend wants to see you Harry, and I promised her that I'd find you."

"Huh?"

"As articulate as ever, I see. Come on Harry, let's get you cleaned up." She grabbed his arm and moved to pull him away from the table.

"Don' wanna go. Not worth anyone's time 'more."

"Far be it from me to disagree with the great Harry Potter, but there's someone that wants to see you, you git. Now get up off that chair and come with me. We have to make you presentable. You happen to stink Harry."

"Know that. Who wants to see me?"

"Hermione."

"What?"

"She's waiting to see you Harry. She recovered a few days ago. I've been searching for you ever since. I've been working with her for the last two years at St. Mungo's. Now are you coming with me Harry? Or do I have to go and disappoint a lady for you?"

"No… I'll come. You'll help me 'Vati? She mustn't see me like this." He looked very worried all of a sudden.

"Of course I will Harry." She reached an arm under his arm and hoisted him out of his chair, supporting his meager weight easily. "Let's go and get you cleaned up." She turned her head to look over to the bar.

"I owe you one Seamus. Thanks."

"No problem Parvati. Come back sometime. I'll buy you a drink."

"I'd like that Seamus. See you Friday night? Say around seven?"

"I'll be here. See you then. Take care of him, lass." He waved at her as she steered Harry out the door of the pub.

Author's Note: Just a little seven chapter fic that I found on my computer. I hope that you like it.

Has hints of H/Hr, but is actually, unabashedly, H/G. Came from a plot bunny I got while listening to Chumbawumba's Tubthumping and reading Steve Perry's Brother Death.