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SIYE Time:3:02 on 19th March 2024
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Restless Heart Syndrome
By notadryeeye

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts
Characters:All
Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language, Sexual Situations
Rating: R
Reviews: 429
Summary: 17 Years have passed since the fall of Voldemort. Just as the world thinks it has finally started to heal and move on, some things thought long lost begin to awaken.
Hitcount: Story Total: 102979; Chapter Total: 3985





Author's Notes:
I honestly cannot believe it has been 2 years since my last update. I sincerely apologize for taking so long and genuinely thank everyone who has checked in, left reviews or sent me a message over that time to see how things were going with the story and myself. This story and the characters have never been far from my mind and I have every intention on finishing it one day.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a bit transitional and does contain some topics of more adult in nature and some language near the end that is a bit strong--but I just ask that you remember that the characters are adults in this and they've been through quite a lot to get to the point that they are currently at.

Thank you again!




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He couldn’t fall asleep.

While his body was tired and the exhaustion from a day full of celebration and emotion had set into his very bones–his mind was working double-time even as his body craved respite.

It hadn’t even been 24 hours since the past had come back into his life, full-force–overwhelming and slamming into him like a rogue wave amidst an otherwise calm sea–but he felt like he’d been awake for a week straight.

So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

It had begun when his memories had started coming back a few months ago–first just flashes and flickers of images and impulses of a life unknown– then morphing into dreams and full-fledged memories until full remembrance had come to him.

More change had come about when Ron and Hermione had showed up on his doorstep, throwing him totally asunder–threatening for a while to derail the life he’d built for himself.

He’d even managed to survive the arrival of the rest of the family and those he’d cared about. Seeing Ginny again had tested him to his limit, but he’d again been able to control himself and stay relatively grounded.

But this…

He took another long drag and let it out slowly as he shook his head, leaning against the wooden railing for support.

He not only had a son, but he was here and he was real and he was an amazing kid. He was funny and intelligent and he seemed to be genuinely happy–which made Harry so relieved, yet at the same time sad that he’d played no part in it.

Despite their talk earlier this evening that had left Harry feeling hopeful about what role he could play in Jackson’s life, there were still those lingering feelings of guilt over what had transpired in the past and fear over what may come to light in the days, weeks and–hopefully–years to come.

Life seemed to somehow and quite impossibly be coming back together all of the sudden. The life he’d literally forgotten and left behind was laying itself out before him and the people he’d once been cared for so much that he’d given everything for them, were becoming a part of his life once more.

As great as all of that sounded–his head was more jumbled than it had been in a long time. It was proving hard to maintain that balance between who he was now and the person that he thought everyone here expected him to be.

Although he may have the memories to convince everyone else that he was who he was, the truth was that he wasn’t the same Harry Potter that all of these people had said goodbye to nearly 18 years ago. That young man had died exactly where and when they’d all thought he had. Maybe not physically–but who he was then and all promise of who he would have grown to be had.

He was finding it so hard to juggle the expectations with that reality. It really was like having split-personalities or living a double life.

Trying to figure out how much of Harry and how much of Evan should show through in any one conversation this past day had been exhausting and confusing. He had thought he’d been doing a fairly decent job at hiding this inner struggle from everyone–enough that perhaps they thought that it was simply nerves–but even wondering how long he could possibly keep this dance up was taxing to him.

With his head pounding and the cool night air doing little to bring any sort of relief, Harry hoped that somehow he’d find something or someone that might help him clear his mind and settle his thoughts.

Bringing his right hand back up to his mouth to take another drag, he paused just before the cigarette hit his lips. The sound of the French doors opening and closing quietly behind him alerted Harry to the fact that he was no longer alone.

Harry turned slowly, pulling his right hand slightly behind himself instinctively as he turned to face the new arrival.

It was Ron who had joined him on the deck.

His friend, dressed in a faded pair of pajama pants and wrapped in a long green bathrobe, didn’t look surprised to find the deck already occupied.

“Alright if I join you?” Ron asked through a slight yawn as he moved towards one of the empty deckchairs nearby.

Harry shrugged one shoulder and then nodded

“Sure,” he replied. “I don’t mind the company,” Harry admitted, knowing that Ron would probably be the easiest to talk to at the moment. He’d been great at not pushing any uncomfortable conversation since they’d been reunited.

Ron nodded his thanks and maneuvered his tall, lanky frame into the low chair, sighing as he did so.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Harry asked as Ron beckoned for Harry to join him in the empty chair next to him. Harry obliged, sitting down on the edge.

“Nope. I’d like to blame it on Portkey-lag,” Ron admitted. “But all those years of nights on watch and midnight missions somehow still manages to mess with my sleep pattern,” he added with a rueful smile.

“You know, you don’t have to hide that,” Ron after a second as he gestured to the still lit cigarette in Harry’s hand.

Harry’s eyes went down to his right hand, feeling slightly sheepish.

“I shouldn’t even be having it, actually,” Harry admitted even as he took another drag.

“Yeah? Well I reckon we’re all prone to slip up from time to time,” Ron replied in understanding as the two slipped into a few moments’ silence.

“Can I steal one from you?”

Harry had to do a double-take and looked up at his friend to make sure he’d actually heard what he thought he had.

Ron was looking at him expectantly, only looking slightly sheepish about his request.

“Really?” Harry asked quietly and a bit disbelieving as he reached into his pocket and produced a pack.

Holding open the top, he held it out to his friend and watched silently as Ron took one.

“Another habit I’ve retained from my days in the field,” Ron replied with a shrug as he took the lighter Harry had held out. “Although…it’s only from time to time these days,” he added as he lit the end, which glowed orange in the dim light.

“Do me a favor though?” Ron said as he exhaled slowly, his eyes finding Harry’s seriously.

“Don’t tell my wife.”

Harry couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face. First–he wasn’t sure that he’d ever get used to Ron so freely referring to Hermione as ‘my wife’. And secondly–it was sort of amusing to imagine Ron was hiding something like this from her.

“My lips are sealed,” Harry replied.

“I was supposed to have quit years ago,” Ron said after another long drag. “She absolutely hated it and back then it was usually tied to me being drunk off my arse–which was a lot of the time…right after…” Ron added before his words suddenly faded away.

Harry watched as his old friend’s gaze suddenly got far away and his face fell slightly–as though he was remembering something not so pleasant from his past.

There was a small part of Harry that wanted to ask Ron to talk and to elaborate on what he had said. Not only because he was curious to learn about what life may have been like in the direct aftermath of the war–but also because Harry knew himself about battling demons and addiction.

But rather than force anything and risk going too far, Harry let Ron continue in his silence.

“Cor…what a night,” Ron finally breathed out as he seemed to shake himself back to the present. “What a life…”

Harry could only nod in agreement.

“It’s definitely turned out a little bit different than I imagined it would,” Harry admitted quietly.

“I wanted to say something–about Jackson–the last time we were here,” Ron told him. “But it’s not exactly something you can imagine popping on someone in the course of normal conversation,” he added rather apologetically.

“No…I understand that,” Harry replied. “I’m not angry that nobody said anything until tonight. In fact, any of those feelings of hurt or anger would be overridden by sheer amazement anyway…”

“He’s a pretty amazing kid,” Ron offered as a bit of lightness danced across his features as he spoke of his nephew.

“I remember when we first found out that Ginny was having him,” Ron continued as he took a long drag. “I mean--it was scary thing and we all had different sorts of reactions to our little sister having a baby–but once he was born…”

Ron trailed off, his gaze again going far away as if he were remembering something.

“I remember the first time I held him…I mean, I didn’t even have any kids of my own at the time–but it was the same feeling. I knew that I was going to do anything I could for him–that I’d kill for the kid just to make sure he’d grow up happy and free…”

“As bad as things got right after the war, they got just a little better after Jackson was born. I mean–it still hurt like hell that you were gone and there was always that hole there,” Ron added. “But, having a new part of our family to start to heal us all helped tremendously. I think he helped to save a lot of us and show us that after everything…there WAS life.”

Harry let his old friend’s words sink in with the silence that had followed them.

He could only begin to imagine what the aftermath of the chaos of the battle and war had been like. Sure, he considered his time after and even the burden of making the decision he had as his own personal hell–but to think of what pain and sorrow he had left in his wake back home was something that was incredibly hard to fathom.

“And it’s always helped that he’s just a great kid overall,” Ron said with a smile. “I know I’m not supposed to have favorites as an uncle,” he added ruefully.

“From what I’ve heard you two had a very good, long meeting and talk,” Ron said conversationally as he returned his gaze to Harry once more.

Harry nodded.

“Once the shock went down a level where I could think straight, yeah…” Harry said as he took a deep breath. “Then it was just a matter of getting over how terrifying finding anything relevant to talk about was…”

“And after that…all I can think about now is just how much I truly didn’t understand what my decision really meant,” Harry continued as he felt the emotion bubble up again. “And how much I truly don’t deserve any sort of second chance–or first chance in this case…”

Harry watched as Ron shook his head at his last comment.

“Whatever punishment you think you should have coming to you because of any of this…I think you’ll find that the fates and the rest of us aren’t going to continue to hold things over your head,” Ron assured him. “We just got you back. I’m sure as hell not about to screw that up by beating you over the head for the past.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied with a grateful nod. “Although I’m not sure everyone here shares in your sentiments,” he added quietly.

“Yeah…well, my sister might be a special case,” Ron said truthfully, without having to ask at all who Harry might be referring to. His face also sobered slightly from the light-heartedness that had been in the air before.

“Ginny’s had a bit of a different go of it from the rest of us,” Ron admitted with a sigh. “I mean…she’s the one who was pregnant, raised your son--and had to do it all while mourning you…”

“That hurts the most…that I left her,” Harry admitted as he swallowed heavily.

“I think with the way it was between you two–how much you both…both loved each other,” Ron continued, “I think having you back–being here–is bringing up a whole lot feelings for her that she’s not sure how to deal with.”

Harry nodded.

“What I really want to do is just ask her to sit down and talk–hash things out,” Harry admitted out loud to the darkness. “I’d even let her punch me square in the face if it would mean that she’d say more than a few words to me at a time.”

Harry ran another hand over his tired face, the sound of his palm against stubble was loud against the quiet of the night.

“It’s like she’s been avoiding me and trying not to be in whatever room I’m in since we were out here on the deck earlier this evening,” Harry said with a sigh. “Even though she doesn’t want it–I want to apologize–to try to explain things myself like I have with you. But right now I don’t see that happening…”

“I think a lot of her standoffish-ness has to do with her wanting to give you space to get to know Jackson,” Ron said after a few moments of thoughtful silence. “I do know that it is very important to her that Jackson gets to know you–that he gets a chance to have what he’s never really had before. As to what her feelings or plans are in regards to you–I’m not sure.”

“Maybe after all that is settled down you two can figure yourselves out…and if there’s still something…” Ron added as an afterthought.

Harry shook his head.

“Ron, that’s not even a thought in my head right now–figuring out there’s even anything remotely–romantic–still between us,” Harry replied dismissively, even though he knew his words were somewhat of a lie.

Of course it was something he’d thought about several–thousand–times since he’d regained his memories. Harry was very much aware of who he was now–that he’d spent virtually half of his thirty six years apart from her and living as a very different man than he had been. So it was natural that time had lessened and changed some feelings.

But since the first days he’d started regaining his memories, there had been moments of awareness in the quiet of a still morning that he was sure that if he opened his eyes he’d find himself in her bed again. That if he only rolled onto his side and reached a hand out, he’d find her there, sleeping peacefully next to him as he had that morning–as though no time had passed at all.

But it never happened that way.

When he opened his eyes he was always alone in his bed, half a world away.

But it was that part of his heart and his mind that had the hardest time letting those feelings go. It was as though it had only been a day or two since they’d parted. That he’d only been gone for moments instead of years.

Space and time had not lessened that love. Not really.

“Right now I’ll settle for some sort of understanding–to be able to just talk,” Harry admitted, hoping to steer the conversation away from where it seemed to be going.

“Then do that,” Ron offered with an encouraging nod. “Get a good night’s sleep–which I know you need because you look like you’ve not had a proper one in a few days–and then tomorrow ask her to chat privately for a bit.”

Harry shot Ron a skeptical look.

“What?” Ron replied. “The worst that can happen is that she’ll say no. And I honestly don’t think she’d do that–I think that she’d at least listen to you for a while before the yelling starts…”

“Great,” Harry sighed heavily as he placed another cigarette on his lips, lighting the end and taking a long drag as his eyes found the stars above.

When his gaze returned to the deck, he found Ron staring at him steadily.

Ron looked as though he were trying to memorize and take in everything he could about his friend–that if he blinked, he might disappear again for another 17 years.

“I missed you,” Ron said simply, yet his voice was full of emotion–his gaze still not leaving Harry.

What might have been unnerving to some, Harry found he could only continue to hold his old friend’s gaze and attention–he owed Ron that.

“I can’t even count how many times over the years I wished we could have had moments like this,” Ron said as he sighed heavily and let it out into the night. “There’ve been times I’ve been sitting and relaxing with my brother’s or other friends–I could almost imagine that if I turned, you’d be sitting there next to me--talking about life…our kids…having a few drinks while we went on about Quidditch or whatever else we could to take our mind off the rest of the world.

“It’s been hard, man,” Ron admitted as his eyes found Harry again.

“You were my best man at my wedding,” Ron said quietly as he stared off into the darkness. “Everyone--even Ginny--said it would be alright if Neville stood in for you. They said you’d no doubt you’d be the honorary best man–but for ceremonial purposes and all that–it would be okay if he took that place.”

Ron shook his head.

“I thought about having Jackson stand there,” Ron said as his eyes all of the sudden seemed far off, almost as though he had gone back to those moments in life. “But he was just a little bugger at the time,” Ron added with a laugh. “There was no way he was going to not be all squirmy and wiggly standing there for that long.”

“I had it open–that space next to me,” he said, his words suddenly heavily.

“I’m not trying to get all mushy on you,” Ron assured Harry when his best friend remained quiet, his eyes averted to the wooden deck floor.

“But there were few times I wasn’t sure I…” he started before he trailed off and looked away and up at the night sky as if he were trying to gather his thoughts.

“I drank a lot,” Ron said simply. “I wanted to escape from everything and that was the only thing that seemed to help at the time. Except...it only ended up making things worse. I put my parents and my whole family through hell in a time when they needed anything else but that--and I nearly lost Hermione more than once…”

“It was that bad?” Harry asked quietly.

He’d never wanted his decisions to hurt his friends like they had. The choices he’d made were made with the intention of sparing them from burden--but it seemed that what they’d experienced had been quite the opposite.

Those he loved had suffered in so many ways because of him.

“I was depressed and I was a drunk,” Ron said with a nod. “Not a good combination.”

“It literally took Hermione moving out on me for a month and Ginny telling me that if I kept things up like I was, she wasn’t going to allow me to be around Jackson to pull me out of it and bring me round,” Ron admitted. “I’ve had two slip-ups in the years since. But for the most part I try to stay away from alcohol--especially in stressful and emotional times.”

“Like now,” Harry said in a low voice. He’d noticed that of all the Weasley brothers, Ron had been the only one Harry had not seen with a beer or drink today.

Ron nodded.

“I’ve done alright this time around,” Ron admitted.

Harry was quiet for a few moments--his mind full of all sorts of reassuring things he wanted to say to his oldest friend.

“I understand where you’re coming from with that...battling with depression and self-medicating to make those feelings go away,” Harry admitted after taking a deep breath.

They were being open and honest with each other now and Harry wanted to give as much as his friend had.

Ron looked up at him in surprise. There was questioning in his gaze, but he remained silent--giving Harry room to speak.

“I struggled for a few years with addiction,” Harry continued quietly as he looked down at his hands. “Up until Sophie was born.”

“It started off as pretty innocent partying--drinking and...smoking,” Harry added, hoping that with his hesitation, Ron would understand that he wasn’t just referring to cigarettes.

“But as soon as I realized that those substances also helped me cope with the whole myriad of issues and insecurities I had regarding my past--or lack thereof--I started to abuse them...and eventually moved onto harder stuff…”

Harry let his words linger on the quiet night air.

“Like...drugs?”

Ron’s quiet question held none of the judgement that Harry usually expected whenever he spoke of this.

Harry nodded.

“There’s no skirting around the fact that--I was an addict,” Harry said. “Am--a recovering addict,” he added, amending his words slightly.

“Even now? Even after you--?”

“Even now that I know that I’m Harry Potter--yeah,” Harry answered. “I mean--I may not have had my memories at the time--but it was still me who ultimately made those decisions that led me into that stuff. Who’s to say it couldn’t happen again? That I wouldn’t slip if given the in even now?”

“It is always there…” Ron muttered thoughtfully.

Harry nodded.

Thinking back on his past was painful--and it wasn’t just because he’d spent so many years not knowing who he was.

He had tried for so long to find something or somebody that he could ground himself to and reform all those missing connections that not having a memorable past left him with. He’d sought to find something--anything--that would fill the gaping holes in his life and in the end he’d ended up with a whole string of hollow and meaningless relationships and encounters and a habit that had nearly cost him everything and everyone he did have in his life.

It was how he ultimately decided to deal with his issues that hurt the most when he looked back now.

He’d nearly lost his job--several times.

Spent days and weeks--even--stumbling around in a fog where there were massive stretches of time that he couldn’t really recall where he’d been, what he’d done or who he’d met up with.

And he’d succeeded in alienating and--for a bit--driving away the only support system he did have.

It was only when something as life altering as fatherhood had been thrust upon him had he had come crawling back to them--desperate for their help.

And thankfully--he’d gotten it.

Steve and Maria had told him countless times that they were incredibly proud of the way he’d stepped up and straightened himself out. Looking back now, he often wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t asked for help and had continued on the way he was going.

Part of him knew that he probably be dead. It had been that bad.

But more frightening for him to think about was where Sophie would be.

He could very easily have ignored the voicemail he’d received from Morgan’s assistant--the one that had very nonchalantly let him know that Morgan was pregnant, that there was at least a chance that he might be the father and that clearly said that he needn’t worry about it--they’d be just fine without him but had just wanted to let him know anyway…

It would not have been out of character for him then to have grabbed onto that free pass that was being dangled in front of him at the time and go on about his life as he had been without a care for anybody but himself.

But something had clicked within him and he’d wanted to fight--fight with everything he had to hang onto and forge this new connection and bring home this little girl. His change had started even before he’d known for sure that Sophie was actually his daughter. He tried not to think about what his response and reaction would have been had the tests come back with different results and she had not been his afterall.

But she was his and she had saved him and ultimately had made him into the man and version of himself that he was finally proud of.

Not that it made it any easier to look back at parts of his life and not feel extreme disappointment in how he’d handled himself before…

“We’ve all got a lot of things in our lives we’re not particularly proud of--but that doesn’t mean we have to spend the rest of it beating ourselves up over it,” Ron said quietly. “Don’t think I can’t see those wheels turning about in your head over there. It may have been 18 years since I’ve seen you last, but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognize that look on your face.”

Harry quirked a brow at his old friend.

“The one that clearly says that you’re trying to take yourself to task over something you can’t change and don’t need to apologize to anyone for,” Ron replied to Harry’s questioning look.

“I feel like if everyone else found out they’d look at me even more differently than they already do,” Harry admitted quietly.

“When you first started telling us about your past--about how Sophie came about and all that--Hermione and I sort of thought there was more than likely a lot more to your story than you wanted to tell us at the moment,” Ron replied. “We figured there had to be something a little more--wild--in your past that you were saying. Seeing as--well--what you were alluding to wasn’t anything I think either of us would have expected to hear from you.”

“I was a fucking idiot. A careless, horrible fucking idiot.”

“You were young,” Ron corrected him, as if trying to lessen some of his mate’s burden.

“I think me being young stopped being an adequate excuse years ago,” Harry sighed. “I think after awhile it just turned into me being a self-centered, self-destructive asshole.”

“You’ve been through things in your life that would have messed with anybody’s head. You’ve certainly turned things around now and--from what I can see--you’ve got a pretty damn good life now,” Ron assured him. “I don’t think anyone here is going to judge you too harshly for something you’ve already made amends for. I’m certainly not.”

“When did you get so damn sensitive and introspective?” Harry blurted out when he realized that what he’d been hearing from his best mate these past few minutes were things he would have previously associate with Hermione.

“Surprised, eh?” Ron said with a slight smile.

“I shouldn’t be,” Harry admitted. “I mean--we’ve all changed a lot over this time--but I guess I’m just not used to all this sage advice coming from someplace other than--”

“Other than Hermione?” Ron replied with a rueful smile before Harry could even complete his thought.

“Something like that,” Harry said.

“I’d like to think I’ve picked up a thing or two over the years from her regarding sensitivity and all that,” Ron continued. “Don’t tell her though. She’ll expect it from me all the time if you confirm that I no longer have the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

Harry chuckled quietly to himself, remembering the exact moment when that phrase first came about all those years ago.

“But seriously,” Ron said even as an amused smile remained on his face. “I understand where you’re coming from and how it is to think that everyone else is watching you when you pick up that pint--wondering in their minds if this is gonna be the time you fuck up again. I don’t think I’ll ever truly live down or make up for some of the things I put my family through--but I’d like to think we’re in a place now where we’ve moved on and created something new and better going forward.”

“I think you’ll find that--if you ever feel comfortable sharing with the others what you’ve just shared with me--you’ll probably be met with the same understanding,” Ron assured him. “And--if you ever want to talk or anything--just know I’m here too.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied gratefully and sincerely. This was a very new side to he and Ron’s relationship that certainly hadn’t been there previously. It was good to know that the connection they’d always had was still there. And it was even better to know that--even though so much time had separated their lives--they’d both grown in ways that had translated to their friendship.

Harry found himself appraising his old friend as he sat stretched out on the deck chair. Ron’s face still held many of the same boyhood features he recognized from years ago--although they’d sharpened and hardened over time like his own and the first signs of lines were starting to make their presence known. Incredibly tall and still fairly lanky, Ron’s red hair was only a touch lighter than it had been his youth--a smattering of grey hair just barely showing through and a hairline just beginning to show signs that it may be receding. And Ron had always seemed to be fidgeting in their youth--and even now--his red-haired friend was shaking one slipper-clad foot despite the calmness of the evening.

An enormous and unexpected wave of emotion hit him at that moment as he surveyed his friend.

“I missed you,” Harry said quietly, echoing his friend’s earlier sentiments.

Ron didn’t even have to say anything in response.

All these years he may not have known who exactly it was that he was missing--but there were holes in his life that he had never been able to fill and he knew that one of them had been having a friend like he had in Ron.
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