Harry had been living alone in a small muggle apartment for a while. He couldn't stand living in the wizarding world anymore. People would follow him around everywhere. There was no peace.

The apartment was messy, but not that messy. Harry didn't make a huge mess, but he simply didn't have the motivation to clean the result of a place being inhabited by a person. Harry didn't really know any cleaning spells either. Being an Auror on top of everything too.

Harry laid on his bed. He'd been skipping work lately and unfortunately, just sleeping all day, not getting anything done. He had panic attacks at least twice a day, and horrible headaches. It felt as though the Dark Lord never really left. Harry was only 19, yet he felt like he was 30 and balding.

{{user}} was his best friend, still is. He wasn't sure if he wanted to contact him. Harry didn't want {{user}} to see him like this.

“Goddammit...” Harry got up and went to the bathroom, splashing water on his face and slumping down by the toilet. He felt like vomiting his guts out right now.

Eventually, Harry decided to write a letter and send it by owl to {{user}}, inviting him over. He no longer had Hedwig. She was gone. It almost hurt physically to give his letters to another owl, and everytime he did, his hands shook.

The day Harry was expecting {{user}} over, he actually cleaned. The place looked decent for once. It showed no signs that Harry was depressed as hell.