Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

...

"Harry, you have to come. You're the guest of honour," Hermione said.

Harry sighed. "I know, Hermione, but you know how much I hate these Ministry functions. Couldn't I just skip it for once?"

"I know, Harry, but this is a celebration of your defeat of Voldermort! Who will we toast if you're not there?"

"Toast each other. I keep telling you, it was not my victory alone. And I'm tired of people making a hero out of me. I'm not a hero, 'Mione. I'm just a man and I really want to be left alone. If I go to this function, I'll be hounded all evening and I'm sick to death of that."

"Maybe, people wouldn't hound you, if you got out more often."

"I don't need to get out more often. I have my home and I have my work and I'm happy."

Hermione sighed. "Are you really?"

"Of course! Why do you ask?"

"For the same reason that everyone else does, I guess. It's been three years since you broke up with Dan and you haven't had a serious relationship since then. You don't even date anymore..."

"I have my reasons. You know that."

"Of course I do, Harry. But it's not good for you to keep to yourself so much."

Harry sighed. It was an argument they'd had many times before and he was getting tired of it. He knew that Hermione was right. He had sequestered himself too much. But he was tired of being famous. He was tired of being Harry Potter. His name seemed to get in the way, no matter what he wanted to do, whether it was his work as a writer or his disastrous attempts to date...No one seemed to be able to get past the fact that he was Harry Potter and see him for what he was.

He'd dealt with the problem in his work life by choosing to write under a pseudonym. No one in the wizarding world other than his best friends were aware that Jeremy Porter was actually Harry Potter. As far as the wizarding world was aware, Harry had dropped out of Auror training just six months in and taken up charity work...probably the only area of his life where his name did any good...and that he now lived the leisurely life of a rich man, which Harry most definitely was, though his life was anything but leisurely. He worked hard at his writing and he was proud of the fact that his fame and his success as a writer had been achieved by the quality of his work and not because he was Harry Potter.

His personal life though, had been a disaster from the word go. He'd got back together with Ginny right after the war. He had been sure then, that that was what he wanted and needed but they had both realised, just a few months into the relationship that it was not working out. But they had both had the expectations of the Weasleys as well the entire wizarding world to contend with, so they'd tried to make a go of it, but after two not very happy years together, they'd decided to call it quits.

The Weasleys had been disappointed, but they had accepted it. Harry had realised in the course of those two years that he was bisexual and a month or so after the break up, he'd started dating, both men and women and of course the papers had got hold of that and made his sexuality a front page topic for days. It had been acutely embarrassing and Harry, who until then had been getting about a hundred letters a day from witches propositioning him, had started getting letters from wizards as well. The entire episode had been embarrassing and it had made it harder to date like a normal person.

Then he'd met Dan. He was a Seeker and he played for Puddlemore. He was smart and sexy and interesting and he didn't seem to care about Harry's fame. He was a celebrity in his own right. They'd got together after a few dates and the first couple of months had been very good, but Dan's schedule meant that they spent more time apart than together and that had started to put a strain on their relationship and then there had been that glorious day when he'd caught Dan cheating on him...Harry had gone to the Puddlemore training camp to surprise him and he'd found him in bed with one of the other players and that had been that.

It was a long time before Harry was ready to date again and when he did go out a few times, he found that none of his dates seemed to be able to get past the fact that he was 'the chosen one' and his personal life had pretty quickly dwindled to nothing.

That was probably the biggest reason he hated these Ministry functions so much. He always showed up without a date and ended up facing a barrage of personal questions that he didn't want to answer. And then there was the fact that a lot of young witches and wizards saw these functions as an occasion to catch his eye and sometimes even hit on him and he ended up getting a ridiculous amount of attention and spending the entire evening feeling acutely uncomfortable. And it didn't help that all of his friends had settled down with someone or the other, so he was always the odd one out.

So he really did not want to go to this function tonight, but Hermione insisted, she fussed, she nagged, she complained...and he gave in.

...

It was a couple of hours later. Harry had just finished making his speech, a task that he found himself hating more and more every year, and got off the podium. He was desperately in need of a drink. He made his way to the bar and ordered a Firewhisky. He nearly spilled it on himself when a young witch joined him and proceeded to drape herself all over him. Somehow he wrenched himself away and made his escape. Only to be accosted by Zacharias Smith who tried to chat him up. Harry got rid of him somehow and tried to find a quiet corner to hide, when he ran into Romilda Vane. She smiled and simpered and put her hand on his arm and told him that he looked good enough to eat as she inched closer and closer to him. Harry looked like he was going to be sick when Hermione took pity on him and came to his rescue.

"You should just have brought a date, Harry," she said impatiently, as she led him to one of the tables placed around the ballroom.

"Easy for you to say," Harry grumbled.

Hermione sighed. "You should just let me set you up with someone, you know."

"No thank you. I am perfectly fine as I am."

"Stop lying to yourself, Harry. You're lonely and not very happy. I know you want to be with someone. You want to be in love, get married, have a family...all of that. But that is not going to happen unless you try."

Harry snorted. "Try with who? Smith? Romilda?"

"As if they're the only people you could date," Hermione said with a huff.

"No they're not. But I have tried to date, Hermione and it didn't work. Seven years after the war and people still can't see past the scar," Harry grumbled. "I just want to be with someone who doesn't give a damn about the fact that I'm 'the bloody boy who lived.' Someone who can treat me like I'm a normal person and appreciate me for who I am and appreciate me enough to bloody be faithful to me," he said bitterly. He'd tried to forget, but the memory of Dan's betrayal still hurt. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No, it's not. And I know that your experience with dating and relationships has been less than good, but you can't just give up, Harry."

"I can and I have. I need a drink," Harry said and then he walked away without a word. He knew that Hermione was only trying to help, but this was a bit of a sore point with him and he was heartily sick of talking about it.

The bar was surprisingly deserted. Harry wondered why that was, when he realised that the musicians had started up and people were moving on to the dance floor. He ordered another Firewhisky and sat down with his back to the room, glad to be alone, even though he knew that it wouldn't last. He sipped his drink in silence, trying to get his thoughts in order, when he realised that someone had taken the seat next to him. He knew that he only had a few seconds before whoever it was would notice him and start trying to talk him. So he kept his eyes on his drink and the frown on his face in an attempt to discourage conversation.

Harry was rather surprised when five minutes went by and the person next him didn't say anything. Good, Harry thought, determined not to look up. But his curiosity got the better of him. He looked up and started. "Malfoy!" he said. It was the last person that he had expected to see.