Authors note: There will be much more detail to this story to come. I don't own any of the characters used here. This is simply a fan fiction. Also, I am looking for someone to collaborate idea's with. If there is any interest, please contact me.

Harry Potter sat in his small office on the third floor, looking at a memo that he was supposed to approve. "This quarter, the quota for each salesman has been raised 5%," he read for the third time. But Harry's wasn't going to be able to focus on the memo. Not today. Today his mind was focused on the distant past, but a past he would never be able to forget.

Harry was thinking the day that he found he was a wizard. He found out he was special. He had been filled with hope. Hagrid was going to take him away from the miserable existence that has been his life to this point and lead him into an entirely new world with new possibilities. He was leaving the abusive aunt, uncle, and cousin, who didn't seem to care if he was dead or alive. He was free. It all seemed like some far fetched dream…

And now, thought Harry as he placed the memo on his desk, it might as well have been a dream. Dreams fade. dreams are forgotten. If it had been a dream, I might be happy, or at least content. I have a good job, a nice flat, and I might even have a girlfriend. He wouldn't dread this day every year, the one day a year even the bourbon wasn't even to help him forget.

Eight years ago today was the beginning of Harry's down fall. The Battle of Hogwarts. Today, most of the wizarding world stops and everyone celebrates end of the war. The day Voldemort was killed. His picture would be plastered at every wizarding pub in the country, and there would be a toast for him at some point at ever single one.

But the wizards out celebrating don't have to deal with the memories that Harry does. They still don't see George's dead body overtime they close their eyes. They didn't attend the funerals of Lupin and Tonks, and saw a baby being held by a grandmother, who wouldn't even remember his parents.

Everyone who had fought in the battle had physical and emotional scars to deal with, but eventually, everyone else seemed to begin to heal. After the all of the funerals and memorials, people seemed to begin moving on with their lives, so Harry tried to as well. He stayed at the Burrow the summer he began his training to become an Auror, so he could go into the ministry with Mr. Weasley and spend as much time as he could with Ginny as possible before she went back to Hogwarts to complete her education. Ginny left for school, and he completed his training and began work. He moved out and got his own place.

At first he thought he was happy, he was doing what he thought he was supposed to do. He was destined to fight dark wizards, as that seemed to be what he had been training for from his first day at Hogwarts. He worked for a year, but whatever he had done in the past, whatever evil he was able to thwart, the violence never seemed to end. It seemed like death was around every corner. He invested dark mark sightings, torture chambers, and murders. Every dark wizard he locked up, it felt like two new ones went on the loose.

On May 2, seven years ago, Harry snapped. During what was supposed to be a peaceful dinner with Ginny, who had began living him, he lost control. He yelled at her, told her she had forgetting everything he had been through to try and protect her and her family. She had forgetting the sacrifices that had been made for her and everyone else. She didn't appreciate how much pain he stills goes through trying to protect the people of this community, and that it still wasn't even. He said couldn't do it anymore. People were still dying, and he couldn't stop them, and she didn't give a rats ass if Harry lived or died. All because she asked how was handling.

He new the words weren't true as he said them. Ginny had fought at the Battle of Hogwarts. She hadn't forgotten, she had spent that morning at Fred's grave with the rest of her family. She had attended Tonks and Lupins funeral, and had been shoulder to lean on. Plus she loved him, and had never done anything to make him doubt that. If she had not been there for Harry, things would have probably been worse than they actually were. He new she didn't deserve to be treated the way he had been treating her.

So that night, Harry decided to leave the wizarding would behind him. Harry wasn't healing. He was getting worse. There were too many constant reminders around him. Overtime he saw a friends face his mind filled with bad memories. The images of the battle where fresh, and they weren't going to leave. He had to get away. Harry packed his belongs, moved to London, and started living as muggle. Now his days are simple. He goes to work, comes home to his flat, and tries forget the bad dream that lasted for 8 years. Some days are better than others, but no matter how much Harry tries to forget, the bad dream never truly goes away.