Soul Searching

Disclaimer: I don't own this

Souls Searching

"Damn" the man muttered under his breath as the taxi sped past him. It was starting to rain, and he didn't like the idea of signaling the Knight Bus. Too many memories. The blank stares of his loved ones still haunted this man, Harry Potter. He had even started to take Muggle drugs just so that he wasn't haunted by Ginny's face, pale white, as the dementors came down upon her. He had stopped going to visit her at St. Mungos, every time the weight of the ring in his pocket had felt heavier. But now it was just a dull ache.

He trudged through the empty streets, not even caring enough to bewitch his shoes to stay dry. He didn't use a lot of magic anymore. Doing everything the Muggle way made life seem more...real. Or as real as it could be without Ginny.

Harry was still baffled by why she had been targeted. It was two years ago, and they were in the park. Harry instantly felt to his pocket, where the ring had stayed. He was going to give it to her that day in the park, at least until the dementors came. Harry saw her face, pale white, but fierce. It was almost as if she already had a premonition of what was to happen. She didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to him before the dementors used their worst weapon; their kiss. Dementors were horrible creatures, they fed on your happy memories, but when they kissed you they stole your soul. You were alive but you didn't even know it. What an unfair way for Ginny to meet her end, as did Draco Malfoy.

Harry had never really liked Malfoy, but he made Hermione so happy, and Harry thought she deserved happiness after what had happened to Ron in their sixth year. And it was all Harry's fault. This was why Harry had agreed to help save Draco's life. Even if he was a Death Eater. Even if he had killed Snape, the spy. Harry owed Hermione a chance for happiness. But the plan had gone awry. Harry was caught in the middle of the rescue by none other than the bumbling Ministry, and soon the papers were plastered with reports of how the Boy who Lived was associated with the Death Eater. The Death Eater was later kissed himself.

This was why Harry wasn't very surprised when no one objected him leaving England after the ritual. Harry had defeated the Dark Lord, and the spell would last exactly one year. More than enough time for Harry to cause some trouble.

No one had protested Harry's departure. Even the Weasleys knew that Harry had been the true cause to Percy's traitorous ways and Fred and George being sent to St. Mungos, unable to recognize their own wives, or even their own twin brother.

Hermione was still mourning for Draco, nearly 5 months after his death, when Harry had announced his departure. She said her good-byes plainly enough, but once they were alone, she started weeping and confessing her worries. "Harry, the world is falling to pieces! Ron is dead, Draco and Ginny are barely even real, and Harry, I don't want to loose you too. The Death Eaters will come for you, but Harry, you are all I have left. My life is in your hands."

For these reasons, Harry had relocated to Los Angles, "the city of lost souls." Harry had felt it was almost ironic, as Harry was one of the true lost souls, wandering on earth for no purpose. He had gotten a clerical job. The pay was bad, the options were horrible, and Harry's landlady was threatening to evict him; but none of that really mattered.

His world seemed to slip from his fingers, and yet he wasn't even trying to grasp it back. But suddenly Harry was violently thrust back into the real world, or to put it better, thrust back into a wall. Harry blinked several times, and each time he opened his eyes, the creature was still there.

Horrible, slimy, Harry knew that he was an agent for the Death Eaters. Too cowardly to come to fetch his themselves, they sent this lowly demon to attack him. But although they were cowardly, they were not dumb. They had sent some sort of demon with a hard shell, and as much as he might, not one spell or one hex seemed to help. Finally, Harry tried hollering Expecto Patronum! But to his horror, the charm hadn't worked. Was his life really this bad that he couldn't even convince one happy memory to come up to the surface with his bleary thoughts?

Harry's eyes started to glaze as the demon continued to strangle him, denying him of one of the only things he needed in life. The street was blurring, and surely, Harry must have been hallucinating, for he saw an African American man run straight towards the demon, brandishing an axe.

Harry wanted to warm the man, but selfishly stopped. Maybe this man could save him before he was killed himself? Harry's breath suddenly came back as the demon's grip loosened from his neck. He felt a cool breeze of air where the demon's foul hands had been, and looked up to the man, who had yet to acknowledge him.

"Hullo?" Harry asked tentatively. "Er, thanks for saving me from that demon."

With this, the man glaced up and down at him, giving him a nod of respect before turning to retrieve his axe from the demon's neck.. "Yeah, that was one nasty demon. I wonder what it has against you?"

Harry sighed. There really was no way to escape England, even if he was gone physically. "I really don't know. I really seem to irritate people." This made the man laugh, and after introducing himself as Gunn, he directed Harry back to his office.

Harry had followed this Gunn man through the streets until they reached a comfortable hotel. Gunn led Harry to a concealed side door, and when it opened, the sight of a dead demon lying on the floor welcomed Harry and Gunn.

A man and a woman were examining it, and when Gunn cleared his throat, the woman looked up startled at the sight of their guest. "Oh, welcome to Angel Investigations! Don't worry, we're not usually this messy. We're actually helping to make some props for a science fiction movie!" she said, gesturing to the dead carcass on the floor.

Gunn cleared his throat again. "Cordelia, it's okay. He's fine."

"Oh!" she said flustered. "Well, umm, make yourself at home, and I will be with you once I clean up from this demon slime."

Harry staggered over to the nearest couch. It had been a long night, and while the demon attack had taken a lot out of him, the thoughts of the past still throbbed, only lessened from several minutes ago.

No less than twenty minutes later, Cordelia came back into the room, looking much happier, and definitely cleaner. She sat down, picked up a piece of paper, and started to jot notes. "What's your name?"

"Harry Potter." Harry liked when people didn't flinch at the sound of his name, and Cordelia herself just nodded and wrote it down.

"Would there be any motive for a demon to attack you?"

"Sure," Harry replied, "I really piss people off." He said this with a scornful grin.

"I notice, Harry, that you have an English accent. How long did you live in England?"

"Until a few moths ago."

"Why did you leave?" She stared at her pad, biting on the cap of her pen.

Harry looked Cordelia straight in the eyes. "Why are you here? Everyone has a reason to move here, no one has a reason to stay. I'm just trying to find some peace, or something like that," he stopped and rubbed his face. "Aren't we all? Isn't this city the City of Lost Souls?"

Cordelia sighed and looked away from Harry and at the man who was still inspecting the demon. Poor Angel, she thought absently mindedly to herself. "Yes," she murmured. "And Angel is the biggest one."

Harry gave her a look. "How so? Why is that man's life so much worse than mine?"

Cordelia gave an unthinking sigh and an annoyed look. "It's not Angel's life that's the problem. Angel is dead, or maybe 'undead' would be more accurate." She stopped and looked at Harry again, he had his face cocked to the side. "He's a broody good guy. A vampire with a soul. Can't be happy, always sad, well, you get the idea."

Harry gave her a startled look. "A vampire with a soul? How is that possible?"

"Oh you know. Some old gypsy curse that gives him a soul until he knows true happiness." Cordelia waved her hand at the prospect, but hurriedly got up when she saw two people stagger into the lobby, a man holding a woman under immense weight.

"Oh, God, Westley and Fred!" She hurried off to go help her fallen comrades.

Harry didn't even notice this whole chain of events. His mind was focused on what Cordelia had said. It was possible to bring back a person's soul. He got up, knowing that he wouldn't fail Ginny again, and Disapparated.

A/n- yes, I'm sorry if you don't like the ships. Blame my muse. She forced me! I myself am a faithful Hermione/Ron, which is why I had to kill him off. I couldn't stand watching him without Hermione!

Yes, I know there was a slight crossover, but this fic isn't a crossover, the whole "Angel" section was just there for the idea, and that will be the only mention of it. I am aware that the Angel section is not on canon, as I wrote this chapter almost a year ago. It'd be much more accurate to say it's the middle of season 2 of Angel.

Did you like it? Did you hate it? Reviews would be much appreciated!