Chapter 4: A Place Called Home

Harry woke up just before the crack of dawn, time zone changes and years of early conditioning by the Dursleys ensured his ability to function at the early hour. He decided to take a shower, as the rhythmically pounding refreshing water would help him clear and focus his mind.

Harry silently contemplated as he let the water hit him in the face.

He was being shadowed. There was no mistake about it; having grown up with Aurors as well as Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix shadowing him every step of the way, he knew at once he was being watched. If it hadn't been for his sharp, ritually-improved, hearing and being a bit paranoid, he would have failed to notice what the woman had said to whomever "sir" was.

Harry turned off the water and sighed heavily. He stepped out and paused as his eye caught his reflection in the mirror. Slowly, he brought his hand up and wiped the condensation from the mirror to take a good, solid look at himself and the changes the ritual had brought. His hair was still long and messy, refusing to be tamed, and his face remained much the same, only showing the changes that can be expected with added maturity. His body, however, had undergone a truly drastic transformation.

Previously, he had been somewhat fit thanks to six years of Quidditch training, Wood's prescribed workouts enabling him to stay in decent shape. A Quidditch seeker, however, didn't use and build up quite as much muscle-tone as their teammates. Light and quick was the name of the game, and not needing to throw the Quaffle or hit a Bludger all lead to an averagely-fit, but slim body. Now, however, he had a muggle's lean and solid swimmer body. His muscles were well toned, showing off his rock-hard abs in a perfect six-pack.

He wasn't really in the habit of checking himself out in the mirror and so was caught by surprise by a previously-unnoticed detail. His scar was almost unnoticeable. He leaned in closer to make certain. Yes, it had almost completely disappeared, leaving only a small cut-like mark as evidence of its previous existence.

After a few moments, Harry sighed as he turned away to get dressed for the day. He opted for a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It felt strange, even after over two years without them, to not reach for and don his glasses. The ritual had completely removed the need for them.

One look outside told him the rain was still coming down and wasn't showing any sign of letting up. He would have preferred to wear his robes that repelled rain, but that wasn't an option, as he had to appear more muggle-ish. He didn't have a rain coat, and so grabbed and donned his normal jacket instead. His clothes made him appear respectably well off, but not super rich. At least that's how he hoped they made him appear.

He pocketed his keycard and made sure he had everything together before grabbing his bag and walking out. Thankfully, the woman who was spying on him didn't come out "coincidentally" at the same time, meaning she likely didn't have his room bugged. He wouldn't be surprised if she remedied that situation after he left.

Playing it safe, he kept his silence as he closed his hotel door and made his way out of the building.

The moment he stepped outside, the heavy rain greeted him, causing him to become instantly soaked. The streets weren't crowded, but people were walking quickly with umbrellas, clearly trying to limit their outside exposure as much as possible.

Harry silently threw his hood up and walked down the street, he was used to rain growing up in England, after all. His first priority was to find a place of his own, well after getting an umbrella, of course. Had he stayed in the magical world of his home universe, he could have easily gone to Grimmauld Place and remodeled it. He didn't have the courage, however, to live in that house ever again. That house was filled with the memories of Sirius, his beloved godfather, who'd been the closest thing to a father to him, whom he'd gotten killed with his own stupidity. He'd given it to Hermione, knowing she would take good care of the house.

He had money, enough money to last a lifetime. He even already had a plan for what do with his money, well it really wasn't much of a plan, but it was enough for him for the time being.

Harry walked around, trying to navigate the city, understand its streets and traffic, and hopefully find a place he could call his home. After walking for some time, Harry paused as he looked at a building in front of him. It looked abandoned; it reminded him so much of home.

He looked around and noticed a "for-sale" sign on its front door, a phone number written upon it. Well, he'd need to buy a phone, then.

He wrote noted the address and area so that he could easily find his way back and walked down the street looking for a place that sold phones.

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