Activity in the pub was slowing down now that the lunch hour rush was over, but the young man sitting by himself in the corner showed no signs of getting ready to leave. He'd just ordered his second mug of beer and was currently watching the room with absent interest. A few people looked his way, struck by his similarity to a certain Hero that the entire wizarding community had more or less worshipped a little over a year ago, but he didn't acknowledge any of the questioning looks or seemed to have noticed them at all, so they left him alone. The young man wasn't wearing glasses, after all, and no one who bothered to look closely could see any sign of a scar. Harry Potter had pretty much gone into hiding after he'd done his duty, and few could claim to have seen him since. That was probably just as well, anyway. He was a walking reminder of the losses suffered in the recent war, losses that the wizarding world preferred to forget.
Harry peered down at the bottom of his mug, and wished that forgetting could be that easy.