Cry Me A River

The repetitive ticking of the clock in his right hand echoed through the moonless night like the sound of thunder. The cloak on his back felt heavy, but warm, holding back the cold air, fighting against it to keep him comfortable.

Unfortunately for him, he felt everything but. His left hand was clutching his chest, fingers and nails digging into the expensive white shirt, opening the cloak slightly. The cold wind hit him in the front, making him draw a shuddering breath. Righting himself and making sure the cloak stayed closed, he crushed the clock, letting the pieces fall onto the ground.

Then he stomped on the fragments, again and again until his legs were sore and strength left him. A swish of his hand revealed a wand, and he aimed at the last few pieces and turned them to ashes.

"Three days," he said, his voice tight. He had done it so often, but he would never get used to it. Could never get used to it. If he did, he feared he would lose his humanity. This was the right thing to do, he was sure of it.

Harry Potter, if given the choice between what is right and what is easy, could never take the easy way out. It was against everything he stood for, after all.

Zoe Thomson felt strangely energetic. Today was the day of her presentation, and if she was successful, the promotion she had been working towards for more than six months was secure.

Now, however, she wanted some coffee. And everyone knew that the coffee shop right across the office was the best in all of London. Even if it wasn't, she had spent way too much money there to claim otherwise.

The line of people at the shop proved there had to at least be some quality, anyway, and she barely had time to buy a cup before she needed to rush back to her office. With a skip in her step, she left the shop, holding a large cup to go.

So when she nearly ran into a man half a head taller than her, wearing an expensive looking black suit, Zoe made the mistake of stopping in the dumb high heels she decided to wear today in an attempt to appear professional. The sudden stop made her slip, the shoes not holding onto the pavement.

Instead of just falling into the man, she managed to spill all of her delicious black gold on him, the expensive looking suit and the white shirt under turning brown.

The way she had hit him, however, sent him backwards onto the street she was about to cross. It couldn't have stopped here, of course not, had to have split on the pavement, after the loud crack that resulted. Wincing, Zoe tried to stand, the cup lying next to the man on the ground. A car honked loudly as it speeded by.

"Oh god," she said, wobbling to her feet. "I'm so sorry!"

The man was alive, luckily. And he didn't actually look out of it or hurt. Despite the fact that he'd just suffered an accident as a result of her tackle and that his suit had been ruined, he looked fine. He sat up slightly, putting a hand to the back of his head before touching his eyes.

"It's quite alright," he said, ignoring the hot coffee on his clothes. She could actually see them steam slightly. "Could you give me my glasses, miss? I'm afraid I'm quite blind without them."

She immediately looked behind him where the car had been speeding over, and found his glasses.

"I'm… afraid they're broken," she said. She felt horrible. She'd ruined his suit, broken his glasses, she'd nearly even gotten him killed.

"I see," he said, the hint of a small smile on his face. "Well, I don't, I'm afraid."

She choked back a giggle, the tension leaving her ever so slightly. When he stood up and nearly stumbled over the kerbstone, she put a hand on his arm, helping him.

"I'll pay for the suit! And the glasses!" she blurted out.

He laughed, sounding amused by the tone of her voice. One hand went through the mop on his head, the black hair looking barely kept in place by whatever magical shampoo he must have used.

"It's alright," he said. As if knowing she would protest immediately, the man just shrugged. "I have hundreds of those. Please, don't worry too much."

Even though she wanted to protest, she knew it'd be more or less a futile effort.

"Could you simply call me a cab?" he asked. "I'll have to get home and get my spare glasses before I can do anything."

She nodded, before realizing that depending on how bad his eyesight was, he probably couldn't really see much through the strong blur. She never needed glasses, but she saw it all the time in movies when the camera got ridiculously blurry. Pulling out her phone, she did as he asked.

"Ahh, I'm sorry about your coffee," he said, touching the wet shirt. "It… smells nice?"

"It was my fault, uh, ahhhh…" The eloquence born from years of training failed her as she stumbled over her own words in an attempt to say his name. Showing at least some common sense, she put her hand forward, introducing herself. "I'm Zoe Thomson, by the way."

"A pleasure," he said, shaking her hand softly. "Harry Potter."

"Let me apologize again, Mr. Potter," Zoe said. "I should've paid more attention."

"Accidents happen." He smiled. He probably wouldn't have done that if he knew how close he came to death had that car driven over his face. "I'm not one to hold grudges, so you might need to find someone else to be angry at you in my stead."

She crossed her arms, watching as one of the cabs approached the street they'd been waiting at.

"I'll be angry at me in your stead," she said. "I'm late for work as it is, my break's been over for a while."

The cab stopped in front of them.

"Have a nice day, Ms. Thomson," he said when she helped him in.

"You too, Mr. Potter."

This could've gone a lot worse, she decided. Had he not been so pleasant, she might actually be facing charges. Faith in humanity restored, Zoe Thomson made her way to work.

Hopefully her boss wouldn't be too annoyed at her.

The next time Zoe Thomson met Harry Potter, he was standing in front of her office building.

Dressed in a suit that looked just like the one from yesterday, wearing glasses that were much the same, he was staring intensely at a watch in his hands. When she approached slowly, afraid that she'd just end up slamming him into the wall if she tried to stop in front of him again, she found that he wasn't staring at the front of the pocket watch, but at the back. Before she could take a look at it, however, he pushed it into his pockets, sighing.

"Excuse me," she said. "Mr. Potter?"

He looked up, eyebrows rising in obvious surprise. When he caught sight of her, however, a sparkle entered his eyes, recognition flashing in them. "Ms. Thomson. How are you?"

"Quite well," she answered. "Hold on, how did you recognize me?"

"Oh, that's easy," he said, smiling. Green eyes met hers with an intense stare, as Harry's voice turned serious. "I just called every woman with that cup of coffee by your name."

The big cup in her hand almost slipped out of her fingers. When he saw the horrified look on her face, he broke out in laughter. She didn't find his joke nearly as funny as he did, but a chuckle escaped her all the same.

"Your voice," Harry admitted. She sighed in relief.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I'm here on business," Harry said. "Do you know where I can find Mr. Hudson? I think this is the right building, but I'm not sure."

"That's my boss," she said, curious about whatever business he was talking about. "I can lead the way."

"Please do," he said, his hand in his pocket. She could see him play with the clock in his pocket, fumbling around with it like a child. Entering the building, they took the elevator up to the third floor. It was a rather spacious place, and she was proud to say she had her own small office near to the end of the hall, a luxury compared to those that had to share their office space.

To the right of the plain white colored room were doors of glass, showing a furnished office inside. Outside was an empty desk, presumably for a secretary.

"You might want to wait for his secretary to come back from her break," Zoe said.

"It's alright," he said. "Mr. Hudson expects me."

Not even leaving her time to say anything, he pushed the doors open and walked in. She barely heard a loud and very surprised Mr. Hudson shout "Mr. Potter?!" before the doors closed and muffled sounds stopped her from listening in.

"Sooo, who's that rich guy you walked in?" Zoe heard someone say. The woman behind her threw an arm around Zoe's shoulders and stared at the glass doors. "Your new boyfriend?"

"It's the guy I told you about," Zoe explained. Miriam wasn't really one of her best friends, but after sharing a workplace for a while, people grew closer in a way.

"The one you nearly killed, you mean?" Miriam asked. Zoe winced, crossing her arms as she shrugged Miriam's arm off. Slowly walking towards her office, she sighed, the cup of cold coffee in her hands put on a table nearby.

"Yeah, him." She nodded, pursing her lips when she saw Miriam looking strangely at Mr. Hudson's office. "Said he's here on business."

"Oh?" Miriam asked. "Not to complain about your assault on him?"

"He would've gone to the police with that."

"True, sorry, it's just kind of suspicious, don't you think?"

"Maybe."

Zoe had to admit, she had her suspicions about why the guy she had randomly met yesterday was suddenly in front of her office building. If he had wanted to go to Mr. Hudson, he could've just walked in on his own, right? Mr. Hudson didn't actually sound like he was expecting Mr. Potter.

"I'm sure I'm not in trouble," Zoe said, shrugging. Technically, unless he could find the eyewitnesses from yesterday, he had no evidence to back up any accusations. Not that she expected him to press charges, he already said he was alright with all that, and knew it was an accident.

After a few minutes, Mr. Hudson came out of the office, looking sweaty and nervous, red in the face. "Ms. Thomson, could you join us?"

"Sir?" Zoe said, confused.

"We are in need of your services, of course, as assistant director for our company."

Zoe blinked, then narrowed her eyes. That was three steps above the promotion she'd hoped for. Even though she wanted to ask him just what exactly was going on, she knew she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Not until she had a reason to. Miriam whistled low as Zoe moved towards the office, stepping in. She never liked the place. It was furnished, nice looking, but it smelled like a hospital with the amount of disinfectants that Mr. Hudson, a notorious germophobe, hoarded.

Harry was sitting in front of Mr. Hudson's desk, holding the man's expensive favorite pen as he signed a document. An ugly golden ring with a black stone shone on his middle finger.

"Hello, Ms. Thomson," Harry said, smiling pleasantly. "Please, have a seat."

She did, walking towards the chair next to Harry with slow but deliberate steps. Mr. Hudson took his seat behind his desk, coughing. Her polite smile was met with a nervous director mirroring it, looking as if he had aged twenty years in the span of a few minutes.

"Mr. Potter," Mr. Hudson began, glancing at the young man. "Is the head of a rather large company doing humanitarian work all over the world."

The head of a company? At his age? It wasn't unheard of, but actually meeting someone like that? Maybe he had inherited it somehow.

"He has purchased everything from our stockholders, and the CEO has resigned." Mr. Hudson continued. Zoe blinked, staring at Harry, who was still busy signing a few documents. That didn't sound like it could happen so quickly. "Due to your great attitude and efficiency at work, Mr. Potter has decided that it would be to our benefit to promote you, so that you might take over the office when I retire."

She swallowed. That sounded… too good to be true. Way too good.

"You aren't playing a prank on me, right?" she croaked out. Harry's eyebrows rose, and Mr. Hudson coughed. "It's just a coincidence that you bought the company of the woman that ruined a suit of yours, correct?"

When she stared at him with such hard eyes, he laughed.

"It's… it's not a prank, no," he said carefully, his voice taking a humorous tone. "I've reviewed every person in this company a week ago, you're not the only one I have promoted or given a raise to. Our unfortunate meeting yesterday was coincidence and prevented me from visiting Mr. Hudson."

Zoe had the decency to look embarrassed at her accusation and the reminder. Her boss was still looking uncomfortable and nervous, and as much as she enjoyed seeing him squirm like she did back when she had a job interview with him, it gave her some food for thought.

What could make someone behave like that? Especially someone who was generally used to getting their way?

"Of course, it will take until next week to finalize everything, which means that you're going to have some free time, fully paid," Harry continued. Zoe's eyebrows furrowed in thought. Whatever he was playing at, she didn't know. His hand in his pocket, fumbling around with the watch from earlier she assumed, Harry kept smiling.

Zoe smiled back.

The third time that Zoe Thomson met Harry Potter was most peculiar. Now, she was sure that he was a stalker. Must be.

Why else would she end up meeting him again when she and Miriam went to celebrate their promotions? In a club that was quite a way away from her office? Still dressed in his expensive suit, mixing drinks.

"Welcome," he said, that smile of his looking creepy under the colorful lights. "How are you, Ms. Thomson?"

"Are you a stalker?" Miriam blurted out what Zoe was thinking. Harry blinked, his head tilting to the side. "Put some tracker on Zoe?"

"In case you haven't noticed," Harry said, apparently amused by the accusation. "I was here before you were. I apologize for making you uncomfortable, should I leave?"

"It's alright," Zoe said quickly. It might actually allow her to talk with him outside of accidental situations and work related conversation. "You're a bartender here too?"

"Not really." He shrugged, leaning over the counter. "I own this place."

"You do?" MIriam asked. "What don't you own?"

"Oh, a lot," he said. "And you are… Ms. Parish, right?"

"Miriam Parish," she nodded, giving him her hand. "A pleasure, Mr: Potter."

The music wasn't very loud at the bar, allowing for some conversation without shouting. Harry leaned further over the counter and spoke.

"I suppose as employees of my new company, I could allow you to join the VIPs upstairs, if you wish," Harry said.

"Why?" Zoe asked. She didn't really like being suspicious of people, but everything related to him had been a series of strangely fortunate events.

"I'm a philanthropist, Miss," he said. "I like to make people feel good, I like to help people. I might not have the effect of Bill Gates, but I would like to think that I'm doing some good."

"We'll take you up on that offer then," Miriam agreed for them both. When Zoe glanced at her, her co-worker just shrugged, a grin forming on her face.

"Alright, follow me."

Harry led them up the stairs behind the bar, towards a large double door. Opening it, he stepped in and the sound outside almost muffled completely. Inside, there was another bar, with two young women standing behind it. Nobody else was there.

Huge and comfortable looking couches and chairs were everywhere, and a small speaker on the wall played the song from downstairs at a more reasonable volume.

"Welcome to the VIPs. Unfortunately, there are none here today," Harry said. Zoe glanced around as he took a seat at the bar, a drink put in front of him almost immediately.

"So, Ms. Parish, are you two friends?" Harry asked when they sat down as well.

"Please, call me Miriam," she said. "And yes, great friends."

Zoe shot her a look about the lie. Co-workers, reasonable people who could enjoy some time together, but 'great friends' was kind of pushing it.

"I will have to insist that you call me Harry then," Harry said. "Mr. Potter was my father."

When Zoe raised an eyebrow, he chuckled.

"Sorry, I always wanted to say that," he said. "Harry is fine, though. Mr. Potter is a businessman, Harry just likes to relax."

"What exactly does someone so young do to earn themselves so much power?" Miriam asked. Harry winked at her as the two young women gave them drinks as well, not asking for any order.

"The classics, find artifacts of unimaginable power, magic and all that," he said with a straight face. "Life's easy when you can blackmail the world leaders."

Zoe coughed, trying not to laugh as Miriam choked on her drink.

"Let's just say that I had time," Harry said. "And a lot of patience."

"Time? You don't look any older than us," Miriam said.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Harry said simply. "For example, you look a lot less competent than you are."

"What?!" Miriam shouted through her coughs. "I take pride in my appearance as a successful businesswoman, Mr. Potter!"

"So you say, yet you spilled half your drink on your clothes," Harry says, making her look down. He was right. She huffed, standing up and moving to the bathroom door at the end of the room.

"That was rude," Zoe said. "Funny, but rude."

"Oh, you know me, always the jokester," Harry said. "I'll apologize when she's back."

"Don't bother, she'll probably have forgotten it by then," Zoe said, putting an elbow on the counter and resting her head on her hand. "So, you're Mr. Hudson's boss, right?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Harry nodded. "Mr. Hudson and I know each other."

"How so?"

"He went to the same school as my parents," Harry said. "And I've taken some effort to meet most of those who went into business, to learn how they're doing."

"That doesn't really sound like it makes sense," she said, shaking her head. "Why would that be important?"

"People at that school had some talents, and I make sure they make the most out of those without exploiting others," Harry said.

"Talents?"

"Mhmm," Harry hummed, nodding as he took another sip of his drink. "Say, Ms. Thomson…"

"It's Zoe," she interrupted. "Like you said, call me Ms. Thomson at work."

"Of course, Zoe." He nodded, and his stare was piercing, his eyes almost glowing due to the lights above the bar. "This question might be a bit personal, so don't feel obligated to answer if you don't want to."

She nodded, curious about the serious edge that his voice took.

"If you had less than twenty-four hours left to live," Harry said, slowly, as if to make sure she understood everything correctly. "What would you do?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled strongly through her nose. That was such a standard question, something people asked each other relatively often. But the fact that he stated it so seriously made her nervous, and she fidgeted slightly under his stare.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I haven't ever seen the world, or done anything exciting. Life's always been work for me."

"I see," Harry said. "I like to think that every day is my last, to motivate myself."

"That sounds rather dark."

He just shrugged. "Maybe. But every day I walk and think: 'What if I die and have done nothing to help the people around me?'"

"Dark," she said, nodding. "Maybe you should think more positively."

"Oh, I do that, of course." He smiled into the glass on his lips. "Every person I help keeps me human, I feel. Every person I help keeps me alive for a day longer."

"That's… weird," she had to admit. "Really weird."

He laughed, putting the empty glass on the counter. "It is, I know. But I feel if I take the easy way out and stop caring about others, I won't be 'Harry Potter' anymore."

She shook her head. He was weird, but in a strangely endearing way. Despite herself, she smiled back at him.

"You're just impossible, Harry Potter," she said.

"Lots of people say that to me," Harry said, the glass getting refilled. "I never understood why. I would call myself 'incredible'."

She snorted, and he just took the glass and stood up.

"I have some business to attend to," he said. "Please enjoy your stay, everything's on the house today."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you answered my question honestly," he said. "And I have way too much money not to throw around like a rich person. I might come back later."

One or two more drinks and she'd be done anyway. No need to overdo it.

The next time that Zoe Thomson met Harry Potter was fucked up.

While she woke up with a hangover, it wasn't as bad as she expected and she did have that week of free time that Harry had promised her before she took over as assistant director. What she didn't expect, however, was waking up with the smell of cooking entering her nose.

Nobody should be in her apartment except her.

So nobody could exactly blame her for defending herself after grabbing a candle stand she had sitting on a desk and moving slowly towards the kitchen. When she caught sight of whoever had broken into her home, she reflexively threw it, nailing them right on the back of their head.

She heard a gruff 'oof' and immediately grabbed the next item she could find, a pan filled with something and tried to hit him with it. He turned around and grabbed the pan before she could finish the swing. Both of their eyes were wide, though for different reasons.

He was probably shocked that she would attack him.

She was just now realizing who she had attacked, and why he was in her home. After drinking a bit too much last night, Harry made true on his promise and came back later, and apparently called her a taxi to bring her home.

When she was unable to go up the stairs on her own, he had to help her, and probably crashed due to the hour.

"I'm so sorry-" she blurted out, and with a loud splat, the food inside the hot frying pan splashed onto the ground. He looked down at the floor and then back at the stove.

"I suppose it's good that I made two portions?" he asked. She stared at him in disbelief, her grip on the pan slacking. "I apologize for using your kitchen, I should have asked for permission."

"I nearly killed you!" she said.

"Well if you really wanted to you could have tried a bit harder two days ago," Harry said. When he let go of her, he turned the stove off, putting the second pan off the heat and wiping his hands with a paper towel. She shoved the pan in her hand to the dirty dishes, her heart beating violently. She attacked her new boss. Again. When she turned to grab something to clean up the mess, Harry put a hand on her shoulder.

"Let me," he said, not letting her protest.

That was when her world turned upside down. With a small smile on his lips, he waved his hand over the ground, the dish on the ground vanishing into nothingness. The display of weirdness made her knees grow weak, and she nearly fell over.

Grabbing her arm, Harry helped her keep her balance and led her to a chair next to her dining table.

"Zoe," he said. "Are you alright?"

"What… what was that?"

"Say," he said, his smile looking slightly nervous. "Do you believe in magic?"

"No," she said. "That's hogwash."

"Hogwarts, actually, but I digress." Harry grabbed something from his wrist. A long stick, thin and strange. "I'm a wizard."

She shook her head when he created a bunch of flowers from his stick. She's seen that trick a hundred times on TV.

"That's not funny," Zoe said. "Not funny at all."

"I'm not trying to make a joke. Everything you can imagine, I can probably do."

"Uhuh," she said. "So if I asked you to take us to Paris, you could do that?"

He smiled, putting his stick away and touching her shoulder. After a very disorienting feeling, and a shitload of headache, they dropped roughly into an alley. Staring out of it, she found the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Before any curiosity or surprise could spread inside of her, she had to get something out first.

A few minutes and an empty stomach later, they were back in her apartment, and Harry began putting the food from the pan to a plate.

"You're a wizard," she said, a thick feeling of uncertainty in her chest.

"Just like my parents," he said. "Just like Mr. Hudson."

"Mr. Hudson is a wizard?" she asked. He didn't really seem any magical. Well, neither did Harry, besides his deep pockets.

"Oh yeah, he's probably a lot older than you think, so am I, we don't really age normally," Harry said.

"You're not some 100 year old man, right?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Not quite that old."

"Good." She exhaled through her nose. At least she wasn't attracted to someone who could be her great grandfather. "And you are telling me this… why?"

"I told you, I like to make people happy," Harry said. "And I guess today is your day. I have magic, and you have a day to do whatever you want."

"I'm not sure if I can trust you," Zoe said. "You're kind of weird."

"I thought I was 'impossible'," Harry said. "Of course, you don't have to trust me. If you want, I can just leave you alone, you just have to promise not to tell anyone about my magic."

"Why's that?"

"Secretive bunch, these wizards and witches, people don't like what they can't understand, and a lot of them won't react like you."

"Like me?"

"Well, you seem kinda out of it but not very interested," Harry admitted. "I know some people who'd probably want to burn me at the stake."

She smiled slightly. "I'm interested, I just don't know why you're telling me this."

"I told you," Harry said. "I want to make you happy for a day. Want to eat pizza in Italy? Doesn't even take a minute. Want to meet the president of the United States? I can probably arrange that."

"Go back in time and kill Hitler?" she asked.

"Every time," Harry muttered. She shot him a curious look. "I can offer people to do things in one day that would take others a lifetime, and everyone asks me if they can go back and kill Hitler. Time travel isn't a child's toy."

"So you can do it?" she asked.

"Of course. There's certain items that create closed time loops. Not really possible to go back that far, though, and in my experience if you meet yourself in the past all you learn is how much of a dick you are."

"Let's not do that then," she said. Harry nodded. "So… a wizard."

"As I live and breathe," Harry said. "Got the wand and all that."

"What about the wizard hat?"

"Oh, we don't really use those as much anymore," Harry said. "Only people in the Ministry of Magic that try to pretend they're more important than they actually are wear them."

"Ministry?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows. "You guys have a ministry?"

"Oh yeah, take care of keeping magic secret and governing over wizards and witches," he explained. "I'm outside their jurisdiction, though, so there's no worry about me telling you. Sooooo…"

"So?" she asked.

"Wanna eat breakfast and see the world?" he asked. "I might look for someone else to do that if you refuse, but I don't think any of them would be quite as fun as you are."

"This is kinda sudden, and you're still really weirding me out," Zoe said. "Can I think about it?"

"I'm afraid not," he said. "Today is your day, if you refuse, the offer's gone."

"That's…" she muttered.

"Come on, Neo," Harry said, red and blue lights flaring up in his left and right hand respectively. "Give it a chance."

She snorted. "That movie's like 30 years old."

Harry blinked, as if actually surprised to hear that. "You sure? I just watched it for the first time a week ago."

"Pretty sure." She smiled, grabbing his left hand. A tug on her body later, they sat on a roof. She blinked, taking a look around. There were barely any people this early in the morning and her clothes had been replaced by a nice dress.

"Welcome to Venice," he said. "Don't make too much noise, I don't want to explain how we got up here."

Despite his demand, she laughed, rather loudly, before digging in.

"You know," Zoe said as Harry rowed the gondola he'd made appear out of thin air over the water. "I'm still not sure how legit all of this is."

"Oh?" He intoned.

"You might have drugged me, making me see things that are not really there," she said. "Or maybe some new technology on the market."

"I'm pretty bad with technology, to be honest," Harry said. "I barely manage to check my e-mails every morning."

She would not, could not admit just how happy she was right now. For some reason she trusted him more than he deserved, and she had worries that it might be his magic that led to this trust.

"Where to next, milady?" Harry asked. "Anywhere you want to go? Any place you want to visit? People you wish to meet?"

"Nobody," she said. "This is my day, you said. I don't think I could explain to them how I met all of them at once."

"Are you sure?" Harry said. His voice dropped slightly, giving her reason to pause.

"Well, there's… my mom," she said. "But she's not alive anymore, I'm not sure how awesome your magic is, but I don't think it can bring back the dead."

He glanced at his ring, grimacing. "No, we can't bring them back."

"Of course not," she muttered, trying not to sound too disappointed. "You said I could meet the president if I wanted, right? How about the queen?"

"Oh, old friends, she and I," Harry said. "I'm pretty sure she's like 106 by now. Nobody knows how she keeps staying alive, there's people who think she might outlive her son."

"Impressive, isn't it?" Zoe said, grinning. "Maybe she has some mage keep her alive."

"There's no magic that can do that," Harry said. "There used to be a stone that could create an elixir to reverse aging, but if she was using it, she wouldn't look like a raisin."

Zoe giggled. "Alright, not the queen. How about showing me something magical?"

He smiled slightly, putting his hand forward. When she gingerly took it, the world around her swirled for a moment, tugging on her for a third time this day. Zoe closed her eyes.

When she opened her eyes they stood near a forest.

"You'll find something magical in there," Harry told her, pointing towards the forest. "Just take a few steps in."

"You're not coming with me?" she asked.

"A man leading a woman into a forest, ye gods, I could not," Harry said, humour in his voice. "The animals I want to show you don't like me that much, I have to admit."

"And they'd like me?"

"Of course, I have an eye for that, Ms. Thomson. Just trust me."

She did, despite herself. And with slow steps, she moved into the thick brush and wood until she heard steps. Thinking it might be Harry trying to play a prank, she spun around quickly. In the middle of the dark green and brown stood a majestic being, glowing white.

A horse, with a horn on its head. More and more of them came into view.

She squealed in delight. Unicorns were real!

"Thank you!" she blurted out the moment she found Harry outside of the woods again. "I won't forget that."

"I suppose unicorns are kind of special to women of all ages, eh?" Harry said. "Well, for those not growing up in the non magical world, they're just those pure and fleeting animals here for us."

"It was incredible! They let me ride them!" Zoe said, all the happiness spilling over. "Thank you, Harry!"

"You're welcome," Harry said, his eyes moving to the forest. "We still have a long day ahead of us, Zoe."

"Really? I'm pretty exhausted already," she said. He grabbed something from the inside of his jacket and took a small sip before handing it to her. "What's that?"

"Think of it as a magical energy drink," he explained. "No need for breaks when there's no tomorrow, right?"

"No tomorrow," she said, nodding. Grabbing the vial out of his hand, she took a small sip before downing the entire liquid.

Compared to the early morning of Europe, sitting on an elephant and riding around was a more crowded experience. The restaurants in Japan were something she could get used to, and spending midnight in Vegas wasn't such a bad experience.

Visiting the tip of the Mt. Everest without any fear of suffocation or the cold was breathtaking, and suddenly falling from a great height and having Harry catch her half way down made her nearly shit her knickers.

Pleasure did not even begin to describe the absolute bliss she felt. If this was every day for Harry Potter, she could imagine that he very much loved being himself.

Unfortunately, everything had to end sometime.

And so did the day with Harry.

When she was still laughing over a joke he made, they appeared inside her apartment again, Harry looking exhausted even though she was still very energetic.

"Harry," Zoe said, coming down from her laughter. "Is it over?"

"Yes," Harry said, the tiredness on his face nothing compared to the weakness in his voice. He sounded exhausted beyond reason. "I'm sorry we can't continue, but I have other business to attend to today."

"Oh," she said, looking at the floor, her shoulders sagging. "But we'll see each other again, right? Come visit your new manager?"

"We'll see each other again," Harry said, his lips twitching downwards. "Goodbye, Zoe."

"Goodbye, Harry."

With a small bow, Harry vanished into thin air. And Zoe Thomson went to bed with a face splitting smile that would hurt for weeks to come.

Zoe Thomson had bought some of her favorite coffee the day after the best day of her life.

When she reflexively took the road towards her work place despite her free week, she stopped for just a second, turning around to take the way back home.

The light was still green, yet she heard a car's loud honking. A loud scream. Something hit her in the side and she stopped feeling anything after a painful jolt.

Zoe Thomson stared at her hands, now without a cup of coffee, and without her long sleeved shirt.

Looking down on herself, Zoe Thomson found herself naked as the day she was born. And as if that wasn't enough, she stood in the middle of a very populated road. Hiding her shame with her hands, she looked around.

Nobody was looking towards her. Instead, they were looking towards the wreck of a car that had hit a wall, where a bloodied but still alive man stepped out.

"You might want to dress yourself," she heard someone say. Gasping and jumping at the sudden attention, she made herself small, trying to hide more of her body. When she stared at the ground, she found clothes there. Looking around for the source of the voice, she found nobody.

After dressing herself, Zoe looked around. Nobody had even taken a glance into her direction. Many rushed towards the car accident and she found herself drawn towards it as well.

"You might not want to see it," she heard the same voice speak again. Jumping again, she spun around, glaring at the person who had given her such a scare twice, only to gasp and shrink back at the sight.

Standing in front of her was a man, she assumed from the voice, dressed in pitch black robes that hid his face. His hands were hidden by the long and wide sleeves. The only thing that was missing was a giant scythe, and the image of the grim reaper would have been perfect.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You're just…"

She turned around, back to the car accident. Someone was lying on the front of the car. The cold feeling of dread grasped for her, moving up her back with cold fingers. As the black robed figure stepped forward, she ran towards the car. The resigned 'wait' not even reaching her as she took step after step forward.

Phones were out, some recording, some calling the police and ambulance, she was sure. She couldn't see anything, though, the mass of people too thick. When she tried to push her way through, she found herself slipping through them like a ghost.

No. Not like a ghost. A ghost.

She swallowed hard and pushed forward until she arrived at the car, where a bloodied figure lay. Dead.

She could have said it wasn't her. That this person whose face was bloodied and destroyed from the impact was not her. But the clothes were hers.

"No…" Zoe muttered, numb. "No, no, nooo…"

She wailed, falling to her knees.

"I have so much to do," she said. "I have my job, I have my friends, I…"

"I know," the voice said again. She turned around, resigned and unable to muster up any more fear for the reaper behind her. "I apologize, Ms. Zoe Thomson."

"You don't know anything," she said, tears welling up in her eyes as silent sobs shook her entire body. "You don't know me-"
"I know," the reaper said again, taking something out of his robes. She could see his hands, human hands coming out of the long sleeves. He put the item next to her, and she recognized it immediately.

The watch that Harry had held. Not only that, but the ring that was on Harry's finger, the golden ugly thing with the black stone, sat on the reaper's finger.

When she looked up, the reaper removed his hood, revealing his face.

"Harry?" she croaked out.

"Hello, Zoe," Harry said, sitting down next to her.

"What… what are you doing here?"

"This is my job," Harry said. "Lead the dead to their place in afterlife. It's been my job for a while."

"What do you mean? What is all this?" she asked, standing up. "What's with that dumb watch? Why did you-"

She stopped, staring at the watch again. When she grabbed it, she saw the hands were not moving, both pointing up. Turning it around, she found her name, engraved in silver letters.

"You knew," she said, accusingly. "You knew I was going to die, you… you didn't stop it, you just let it happen."

Harry shook his head. "You're wrong. I did stop it."

"Not here," she said, pointing at her corpse. The thought of it made her want to vomit.

"No, not here," he said. "Three days ago. When you ran me over, the car would've killed you right there."

"You mean that wasn't an accident?" she asked. Suddenly, things made sense, in a twisted kind of way. The reason he'd been so nice, so polite, so generous. "You mean you knew I was going to die and you tried to make me happy?"

Harry nodded. She wanted to punch him.

"Why?" she asked, her voice strained. "Why make me happy and take everything away?"

"Because you would have died with more regrets had I not," Harry said. "And I would never resign myself to becoming part of the system that left people regretting their choices. I would become death, destroyer of worlds, and stop being Harry Potter."

She remembered, of course. The conversation in his club. The question he asked.

"There was never a tomorrow for me," she said. Standing up slowly, Zoe grit her teeth as he shook his head. "You… you bastard."

She was shaking, tears flowing down her face. Harry stood up as well, his hands hidden by the sleeves again.

"You hate me," Harry said, his voice still as tired as it had sounded yesterday night. "I understand that, I hate myself for not being able to do more."

"You bastard!" Zoe shouted, grabbing his robes and pulling him toward her. She shook him forwards and backwards, not letting him say anything. When she was finally satisfied, she let go of him, shoving him backwards harshly as she stepped away from him. "You made me happy-"

"I know," Harry said. "I know, maybe, I shouldn't have left you realizing just how much you might miss, but-"

"You made me happy!" she said, crying openly. Her hands moved over her mouth, and despite the tears in her eyes, a small smile kept creeping up on her face. "You made me happy, you took it from me, so why can't I hate you? What magic are you using?"

"I'm not using any magic, Zoe," Harry said. "If you regret meeting me, I can take that regret from you. I can send you to your mother without memory of me-"

"Don't you dare," Zoe said. She was still shaking, furious, sad, happy. All these emotions amplified to a degree she had not felt in her lifetime. She stepped forward again and punched him in the stomach. He gasped for air, keeling over slightly. Expecting another hit, he flinched as her hands moved around his neck in a bone crushing hug.

"Thank you," she muttered, her voice sounding squeaky. "Thank you. I hate you, but thank you."

Harry smiled sadly, putting his arms around the woman.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, tears welling up in his eyes as well. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," Zoe said, letting go of him. Her face was red, so were her eyes. "What comes next? You mentioned my mother."

"The next great adventure," Harry said. Her eyebrows furrowed, and he smiled. The world around her fell apart, and they sat in a gondola, on a river that came out of nowhere.

"The next great adventure?" she asked.

"Where my teachers are," he said. "Where my parents are. And my friends. Where I won't be able to enter."

"Why?" she asked. "Why can't you?"

"Because I'm Death," he said. "And until I find someone to replace me, I will bear this burden. I would not force anyone else to do it."

"I see," she said. "Too noble, Mr. Potter."

"Perhaps," he said. "Or perhaps, Ms. Thomson, I am simply impossible."