Harold typically didn't enjoy Sundays at the least. It meant that there were a few prescious hours left before returning to his occupation for an entire week. Of course, that didn't mean that he disliked his job. No. He enjoyed it quite a bit. An auror wasn't his exact first choice in what to do for the rest of his life. Thoughts of knowing without falter that it was his destined to become ever since his father had passsed away suddenly on the line of duty. Others thought that applying for auror training and being accepted was merely a joke on his account, even his best friend Nikolas Vaisey had thought that. It was there choice to make whatever assumptions that their heart's desired. Harold was in the line of being an auror for the long haul. Wasn't it obvious when he was already in his first year of field work? Maybe. He wasn't too sure, nor did he care what others really thought.
Arriving through Diagon Alley by the floo network, Harold noticed that the streets before him were strangely empty. A few people were making their way out of the area, obviously not interested in all the festivities that were being taken place that very day. He wasn't sure if he wanted to make an appearence in the park, but it almost felt as though he was obligated to. Besides, he wasn't about to miss out the chance to see all the events that seemingly went along that day. People would probably converse about it for a few days and he would simply shrug because of not seeing it with his own eyes. At least, a few minutes near the statue and take a glance at it before thoughts of returning home for that day seemed more appropriate, especially with everything that Harry Potter had done for the entire wizarding community. Or what he could have done before his untimely end fighting the good fight.
There had been more of a crowd then he had first expected, tightly packed in a somewhat small area. Harold shifted his eyes to either side, glancing around to catch a glimpse of familar faces. A quite a bit of previous students during that particular year had showed up. Some faces he hadn't seen since the final battle, losing in touch with more then a handful as well. It didn't bother him a whole lot. People lost touch and others became closer with a few others. That's the way that people either came or went in an individual's life. As he approached the statue, Harold's eyes glanced up at it, furring his eyebrows together. Now, he wasn't the closest with Potter. Heck, conversation between the two were extremely rare, but how he looked was something that he clearly remembered. The statue in the park almost looked nothing like the boy who lived. Well, maybe a tad bit, but no where near the appearence of Harry.
Shrugging his shoulders slightly, Harold glanced around in the crowd and caught a glimpse of a bush of curly hair. He almost could feel the smirk tugging at the sides of his lips immediantly by the simple look that came across his eyes. A recent bet that was clear in his mind that he dare not forget was made a few days ago. Apparently, Kegg didn't seem to think that Harold could find the unfindable, or in that particular case, her. Ever since he was a young boy, he had been finding things that were lost for years rather easily. His parents would mention the object and surprisingly it appeared before him an hour later. The same usually went for people as well. He had yet met someone that he couldn't find, especially when they tried to avoid him for smoe reason. However, he was certain that Veronica wanted to see him, despite the fact that bickered like an old married couple sometimes. It probably didn't help that he called her by her first name, only because Harold figured out exactly how much she despised it.
Allowing the smirk to fade from his expression, Harold slipped his hands into his pockets and maneuvered through the crowd in order to catch her by surprise.