Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“‘I’m putting the Elder Wand,’ he told Dumbledore, who was watching him with enormous affection and admiration, ‘back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won’t it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That’ll be the end of it.’

Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other.

‘Are you sure?’ said Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand.

‘I think Harry’s right,’ said Hermione quietly.

‘That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,’ said Harry. ‘And quite honestly,’ he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, ‘I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.’”

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Every story has a hero. Someone who has suffered greatly, who did not want to be a hero, who against all odds has accomplished something so great nobody thought they would do it, and who in the process has made all the ultimate sacrifices. All the stories always end with the moment the hero accomplishes the great thing, while the adrenaline rush is still going strong and the thing the hero feels the most is the hype and grandiosity of having just done something unbelievable, so it always seems like a perfectly happy ending. But of course, none of them talk about the moment the hero wakes up from the nightmare and realises how high a cost was paid to win, when the hero turns around to celebrate with a loved-one only to discover there is none left alive or very few of them, or the incredible loneliness the hero is left with when nobody else understands the pain and horror of what they have just gone through and only expect them to be joyful and celebratory.

As Harry, Ron and Hermione descended the stairs from Dumbledore’s office, neither said anything, but there was no need. They all knew they were hungry, tired, mentally and emotionally drained, and somehow, that they were walking towards the Gryffindor Tower. The three best friends therefore crossed the castle walking next to one another, and as Harry moved aside to hold a door open for the other two, he noticed with a pang of happiness that Ron and Hermione were holding hands the whole time, intertwining their fingers as they walked. Hermione even used her free hand to softly hold onto Ron’s arm, and Ron seemed perfectly content with the affection. It was almost as if the hold she had on him was spurring him on.

The last flights of stairs to the Fat Lady’s portrait in the seventh floor made their legs scream in protest, but at last, they could see the portrait in the distance.

‘Hey any of you knows the password?’ asked Ron suddenly.

But before they could say anything, they got close enough to notice the portrait was empty and in fact, it hung from one of its hinges, not quite concealing the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room the way it used to. Since all the occupants of the portraits they’d passed seemed to be celebrating in each other’s portraits, they assumed the Fat Lady, scared by whatever had made the portrait nearly completely be yanked off, had ran off to her friend Violet and was now celebrating with her. It wouldn’t be the first time the Fat Lady abandoned her position and was caught getting wasted in another portrait.

‘It might just open,’ said Harry, pulling from the edge with his hand, and with a soft crack, the door cracked open.

‘Wait, what if it’s not safe? Something did damage the door,’ Hermione pointed out, and Harry held his recently repaired wand towards the interior.

‘I’m quite sure it’s empty, Hermione. It’s the last place where a Death Eater would hide, isn’t it?’ said Harry, and led them inside. Indeed, it seemed like everyone had vacated the normally busy room, and they couldn’t sense any danger.

‘Bugger, should’ve taken some food from the Great Hall, we haven’t eaten in like… twenty four hours,’ said Ron. ‘The little bits Aberforth gave us hardly count.’

There had been a lot of food in the Great Hall, and they could’ve grabbed some bits, but they hadn’t really felt it in the moment. Now, however, it was as if with the fall of adrenaline, hunger had kicked in.

As if understanding Ron, Harry’s stomach picked that precise moment to growl so loudly his friends half laughed at him. Harry smiled, and motioned for them all to sit on chairs around a table, pushing books and candelabra aside to make room for what he was planning.

‘Kreacher!’ called Harry, hoping the elf had survived. To his relief, the old house-elf appeared with a “crack!” and almost immediately, it bowed to them, standing just next to their table.

‘Master Harry, Kreacher is happy to see you, and Master Harry’s friends.’

It was the first time Kreacher sounded so sincerely glad to see him, but then again, on their last time together, Kreacher had been cheerfully preparing Harry’s favourite pie, cleaning 12 Grimmauld Place, and pleased with their presence in the house.

‘Thanks Kreacher,’ said Harry, touched. He was still unused to Kreacher’s kindness since they’d made peace after discovering the truth about Regulus Black. And Harry knew now, more than ever, how important it was to make sure Kreacher stayed his friend. ‘It was great seeing you leading the elves into the battle. You were brilliant, and so very brave.’ He pointed out, deciding it was the best idea considering he was about to ask for a favour.

His words had the desired effect and Kreacher looked up with damp eyes, touched.

‘Thank you, Master Harry! Kreacher aims to help Master Regulus's mission.’

The false locket still hung from his neck.

‘You did it, Kreacher. You helped us tremendously, and now Voldemort’s dead. It’s just what Regulus wanted, what he died to achieve,’ said Harry. ‘I hope you’re all right then? I was worried when we couldn’t return to Grimmauld Place. We had a Death Eater on our backs, I’m afraid we sent him to you by accident.’

‘Oh but Kreacher kicked him out.’

‘You did?’ Ron asked incredulous, and Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but smiling gently. She kept a hand on Ron’s over the table, both covered in debris and cuts.

‘House-elves have powers way beyond what wizards and witches have ever given them credit for,’ she stated with an air of tiredness.

‘Miss Hermione is right,’ Kreacher nodded, matter-of-fact, and Hermione gave him a soft smile. ‘Master Harry, Kreacher worried when you didn’t return, and Kreacher waited for months, but then Kreacher decided to come to Hogwarts, work in the kitchens and try to boycott the Death Eaters as much as he could, and to help the students.

‘That was a brilliant plan, and very brave and thoughtful, thank you, Kreacher. Listen, I know you probably want to rest and I hate to ask—,’

‘Master Harry can ask Kreacher anything, Sir, and Kreacher will try to help. Kreacher is happy to serve the hero who killed Lord Voldemort!’

‘Thanks,’ Harry looked at him in elated surprise. ‘So, in that case, could you maybe bring us some food? Some sandwiches is more than okay.’

Kreacher Disapparated and re- A pparated a few minutes later. With a click of his fingers, the dark wooden table the group was sat at was filled with plates full of food, goblets with all types of drinks, and smells that made their stomachs grumble in unison. At once, Ron and Hermione stopped holding hands to attack the food, hands quickly flying here and there, mouths munching without caring about manners any more.

Deeply grateful, Harry turned to Kreacher.

‘Thank you, Kreacher. Listen, there are things I need to do urgently here at Hogwarts, I don’t know how long it might take me. But I hope to go back to Grimmauld Place in a few days. In the meantime, you’re free to do as you please, be wherever you want… you don’t have to wait for me. I will call you when I go there.’

‘Kreacher will have the house ready for Master Harry.’ Kreacher bowed again, and Disapparated, giving Harry free range to turn to the food and attack it with his friends’ same enthusiasm.

The Golden Trio thus ate, still covered in dirt, debris, with fresh cuts all over the skin, blackened from the dust and the ashes of burning material, and occasionally stopping to roll the neck or the shoulder, or massage another painful area, while contouring their faces in pain. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was that of them eating and drinking, with the occasional yawn or groan, until at last, they collapsed leaning back in their chairs, feeling fuller than they’d been in forever.

‘I wish we had our own wands too,’ said Hermione sadly, pulling out Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand, which she’d had since Malfoy Manor. ‘I hate this one. I really hate it.’ She stressed the hatred with her tone of voice, glaring at the wooden stick with despise.

‘Might be a long shot but if this doesn’t do it…’ Harry stood up to open a window, and then pulled out the Elder Wand, feeling it was the least he owed Ron and Hermione. Pointing outside, where the sun was now high, he shouted: ‘Accio Ron Weasley’s and Hermione Granger’s wands!’

They waited expectantly for a moment. Not knowing if it had worked, Harry sat with Hermione and Ron, and together they waited a bit more, their faces beginning to fall in disappointment as the minutes ticked by. But then, just when they were about to give them for lost, the two wands suddenly flew into the room. Relieved and surprised, Ron and Hermione caught theirs mid-air, and Ron cheered with enthusiasm.

‘You think they’ll still be loyal to us?’ he wondered, staring at his wand.

‘Feels right in my hand but… only one way to know for sure,’ said Hermione and, happily putting Bellatrix’s wand away, she took her own and waved it towards a bottle of water, which turned into red wine. Hermione gave it a gulp and hummed in satisfaction. ‘Yes it does! Thanks Harry.’

‘Reparo!’ said Ron using his wand against a hole in his sleeve, which instantly mended. ‘Yeah,’ he smiled in satisfaction, ‘feels right to me! Cheers mate. You’re sure you want to get rid of it?’

‘This wand has done all the good it could do,’ Harry returned it to his moleskin pouch, and sighed, looking at the emptied table. They had eaten and drunk almost everything Kreacher had provided, and now, his body seemed to be ready for bed. ‘I think we should go to sleep. We haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours now.’

‘Wait,’ Hermione took her beaded bag, opened it, waved her wand into it, and a glass bottle flew into her hand. ‘Dreamless Sleep Potion, a gift from Fleur when we were in Tinworth... I think we should use it, we need to actually rest today, and after all that’s happened...’

‘You’re right,’ Ron nodded, grabbing his empty goblet, which Hermione filled along with Harry’s and hers. It was just enough for the three of them.

The three clinked their goblets and drank at once, before getting up from their chairs and beginning to walk towards the stairs, dragging their feet with exhaustion.

‘Come with us?’ Ron asked Hermione suddenly, stopping before the stairs. ‘I can duplicate my bed, and we could make room for you, that way you don’t have to be alone.’

He said so blushing as hard as they’d ever seen him, but Hermione smiled gratefully and nodded, and Harry made a conscious decision to wait a few weeks before teasing them as they seemed to begin a romance of their own. He feared it was like looking at rabbits; that if he came too close too quickly, they’d get scared away.

The three went then through the door to the boys’ room and climbed the stairs past the first six doors, stopping at the last one, which had a metal plate indicating “Seventh Years”. Opening it, they found themselves in a circular room with sixteen doors which had plates like ‘Bedroom A’ or ‘Bedroom C’ through the first sixteen letters of the Alphabet. It occurred to Harry for the first time that Hogwarts must be full of undetectable extension charms, because although Gryffindor’s tower was quite large, Harry wasn’t sure it was that big. It didn’t look it from outside.

Harry and Ron walked straight to the same bedroom they had occupied for six years at Hogwarts, guiding Hermione there with them. In that room, decorated with Gryffindor crimson and golden colours, there were only five four-poster beds with crimson drapes, and minimal furniture, all situated around a central heating column in the circular room. And because their friends had been living and hiding in The Requirement Room for Merlin knew how long, the room looked like no one had inhabited it in ages, being unusually clean and slightly dusty.

Harry and Ron’s beds were quite directly in front of the door, between Neville and Dean’s beds, so they walked straight to them and then waited as Ron skilfully moved their beds closer to their room-mates’ beds, leaving more space between their own. And then with his wand, Ron created a clone of his own bed to set in the space he had created.

‘I think I’ve got our pyjamas, but I’d advise we try some Scourgify at the very least, because we’re quite covered in dirt,’ said Hermione, digging into her beaded bag.

Luckily for them, Hermione had done a fresh laundry at Shell Cottage, so the pyjamas she handed them were clean and smelled nicely. They followed Hermione’s advise, cleaning themselves a little and revealing more cuts and bruises. Hermione changed in the girls’ lavatory down the stairs, and the boys went to their own, so that when the three met again in the bedroom, they had clean teeth, clean faces and hands, and could see each other’s bigger wounds better.

The three then occupied each their bed, and could hear each other groaning as some pains began to make themselves felt.

‘Use this,’ said Hermione, and pulled more things out of her beaded bag. They took turns with Essence of Dittany, which Hermione had evidently used in the lavatory, because she passed it straight to them, and once they were half all right, they tidied up a little and practically collapsed in bed, Hermione between them.

‘Hermione,’ Harry said, returning the last of the lotions for their injuries with a new idea pushing through his exhaustion, ‘any chance you’ve got something to write a note in there? It’s just occurred to me I should send one to McGonagall.’

‘Sure,’ Hermione pulled some parchment and quill and ink from her beaded bag, which Harry used to scribble a quick note: “Professor, Snape was a spy loyal to us, he hasn’t worked for Voldemort since he set to kill my mother, please, recover his body from The Shrieking Shack, where Voldemort killed him last night. I will speak to you and Minister Shacklebolt as soon as I can. I have a lot of information to provide when the time is right. Harry.”

Then, Harry sat helpless, not knowing how to send it. He didn’t have Hedwig any more, and Pigwidgeon, Ron’s owl, was at The Burrow.

‘Is it to McGonagall?’ Hermione asked, her intuition never failing. Harry nodded in response. ‘Here.’ She tapped it with a wand and the note folded into a plane and flew away from the room. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll get to her and no one else.’

‘Thank you, Hermione.’

She was also the one who pointed her wand around, in a last show of strength, to get curtains to close, the door locked, the drapes of their beds shut close, trying to keep the sunlight away, and putting them into soothing darkness. No sound could be heard from the rest of the castle.

Hermione then opened her drapes just enough to look easily into Harry and Ron’s beds, while the three accommodated under the covers, and began to feel heavy with sleep, and Harry was sure he heard Ron and Hermione kiss goodnight and murmur something to each other before he heard the movement of sheets as they made themselves comfortable.

‘Sleep well, both of you,’ said Hermione. ‘And don’t leave without waking me up, okay? I don’t want to wake up alone in here.’

‘No worries,’ said Ron. ‘I’m not going anywhere without you. Goodnight, you two.’

‘We’ve earned a good sleep,’ Harry had barely finished the sentence when the Dreamless Sleep Draught kicked in and soon, he was deep asleep, his and Ron’s snores filling the room and forming the soundtrack Hermione had grown well used to in the past nine months.

The Sleeping Draught helped them to achieve hours and hours of pleasant, uninterrupted sleep, oblivious to Seamus, Dean and Neville eventually coming into the room, many hours later, to spend the night, and to the noise of them getting up in the morning. Likewise, Harry, Ron and Hermione slept so profoundly and calmly that they didn’t notice Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Ginny and Mrs Weasley coming to check on them every now and then, making sure they were still alive and not gravely ill or anything, but simply finally able to rest after nine months of being too anguished, anxious, stressed, afraid and in a state of permanent alert to really rest when they went to sleep, and after the physical, mental and emotional exhaustion that came with war, with the battle, with grief.

For Harry, the weight of their new reality sunk in quite painfully on the morning of Sunday, 3 ^rd May 1998, as he woke up on his bed.

The first thing he noticed as his emerald green eyes opened to contemplate the blurry image of the velvety red curtain ceiling of his bed was that his bladder was about to explode. It was enough to will his sleepy, heavy arms and legs to wake up, grab his glasses from his bedside table, and jump out of the bed, dashing for the Gryffindor Tower’s toilets just on time. As he stood, one hand helping to keep the aim right, the other on the marble wall of the stall, Harry breathed deeply in relief, and while his bladder relaxed, Harry began to replay the events of the day before in his head.

After the battle of his life, one where friends such as Fred Weasley or Lavender Brown had perished, had come to an end, he had been left starved, exhausted, full of broken bones and covered in cuts and bruises. A necessary conversation with the portrait of Albus Dumbledore had followed and eventually Harry and his best friends Ron and Hermione had gone to the Gryffindor Common Room, where Kreacher had fed them before they could heal their superficial injuries and go to sleep.

Harry washed his hands on the toilet sink. They were rather squarish, with short dark hairs on his fingers and the back of his hands, and the blood and dirt had been cleaned the night before. Now, new skin had grown over burns and cuts.

While washing his hands, Harry’s mind replayed the deaths of Fred, Lavender, Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Dobby, or Hedwig. His brain was reminding him of what it was like to see a bunch of dead loved-ones on the floor, reminding him the fear, anguish, terror, stress and anxiety of seven years fighting for his life knowing that at any point Voldemort could come and finish him off, unable to dream of a future, of a tomorrow. The last memory he focused on, was that of walking with his parents in the Forbidden Forest. And as the memories overwhelmed him, Harry found himself rubbing his hands raw, furiously, as if he could clean himself of all the memories he did not want in his brain any longer, filled with a different kind of exhaustion that had nothing to do with physical reasons.

Taking a deep breath, he stopped himself and with trembling hands. Harry removed his glasses and washed his face as well before putting them back on and looking at himself in the mirror. His hair, always a dark mess, was long enough to cover the back of his neck and his ears a little, and the new length had only made it even messier than usual, pointing all directions. His face was covered in a short dark beard that covered his neck as well as his cheeks, moustache area and chin. His eyebrows were thick, dark and messy, and his emerald green eyes were glassy and filled with more sadness and anguish than Harry had ever seen in himself. He had deep, grey bags under his eyes too, and looked years older than only seventeen, his actual age.

Harry knew what the world wanted to see now. They wanted to see the glory, greatness and grandiosity of the powerful wizard who had killed the darkest wizard of the past few decades, they wanted to see a strong wizard standing tall and victorious, with strong, squared shoulders, a smirk of success, and eyes shining with all the possibilities of a future he wasn’t supposed to have gotten to know.

But Harry didn’t feel like that at all. For the first time in his life, he felt like what he truly thought he was; a seventeen year old boy whose loved ones had been decimated, a boy who had been beaten up, starved, tortured, and driven almost to madness in the last few years, who had almost nothing left to lose, who had no family, who’d been on the run for months and through that time only known terror, fear and anguish, who didn’t have enough exams done to get a proper job and who had twice now survived the killing curse. A boy so haunted by his past, by his memories, by his sorrows, and by his loses that he made for terrible company, and certainly not one he felt anyone would want, not now that people would slowly stop looking at him with the idolising eyes of the immediate aftermath of war. They wouldn’t see a hero now. They would see a slightly tall and far too thin and fragile-looking teenager who was completely lost and didn’t know what to do or where to go, or how to deal with the future that not two days previously he had thought he wouldn’t have.

The door opening interrupted his thoughts. It was Ron.

‘Good morning,’ said Ron, then shrugged. ‘Actually, it’s noon. But who cares?’ he put a toiletries bag on the counter. ‘So we can shave and brush our teeth, look half presentable for everyone… Hermione’s idea.’

‘Of course.’

Ron went into the cubicle to urinate while Harry began to shave and tried to look half decent, hoping that it’d make him feel half better too. His best friend promptly joined him, repeating Harry’s routine to wash himself, including his armpits for some reason, and beginning to shave too. He looked as poorly as Harry, perhaps even a little worse, and, Harry noticed, way slimmer than he’d ever seen him which, considering Ron’s general big size, made him look strange, like a bird without feathers.

‘Hermione and I were talking, we’re quite sure we should get checked by Madam Pomfrey, I think one of her bruises is definitely a fractured rib, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we had some ourselves, and we’re just too tired to notice,’ said Ron as he shaved. ‘Come with us, will you? Let her have a proper go at you before my Mum crushes you with her affection.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, okay.’

‘You okay?’

‘I have no idea. I think I’m a little overwhelmed, to be honest.’

‘Yeah… I get that,’ Ron nodded.

‘Have you gotten yourself a girlfriend?’ Harry asked suddenly, putting the razor down. ‘I mean, after that kiss…’

Surprisingly, Ron snorted a laugh, and his face seemed unfamiliar with the concept of smiling.

‘That was quite the kiss, uh? I don’t know,’ Ron shrugged, and then grimaced in pain, rolling his shoulder a little. ‘I… she means so much more to me than I could possibly explain, mate. I think I’ve always known, deep inside. Anyway, we won’t have time to talk about it for a while. She’s dying to go find her parents, she’s worried sick, of course… and Fred’s dead and…’ his voice trembled a little and he clenched his jaw, shaking his head.

‘Doesn’t feel right to be happy when everything sucks.’

‘Yeah. How about you and Ginny?’

The sudden thought of Ginny made Harry lose his breath, for a moment. He missed her with every fibre of his being, but he felt so raw inside, so vulnerable and easy to wreck…

‘I have nothing good to give her right now. I don’t know when I will. After all that’s happened I…’

‘We’re wrecked.’

‘I think we are.’

Ron sighed deeply, putting his razor down and looking at her.

‘Do you love her?’

‘Yes,’ the answer surprised Harry himself. It was like his heart didn’t wait for his brain to think. But he knew it was love, it had to be, for the way he had missed her and longed for her, for months, knowing he would’ve died for her. You can’t be willing to die for just anybody. And she had been, Harry would always remember, the last person he had ever thought of before he was supposedly going to die. ‘Precisely because I love her, Ron… she’s gone through hell. We all have. And she needs a strong partner who will support her, focus on her, nurture her… I wish I could do all of that, but look at me. I’m a bloody mess. I wish I could just celebrate and be overjoyed because Voldemort is dead, and I’m very relieved, but—,’

‘I get it,’ Harry nodded, shutting up. ‘Look, I was thinking something similar about Hermione and I, but then I thought, what’s the option? Not being with her, when she’s all that makes me happy right now? All I can muster strength from? No, it’s not an option. And I know she wouldn’t want me to, because we might be a bloody mess but we’re stronger together. Perhaps it’s the same for you and Ginny.’

‘No,’ Harry shook his head. ‘You and Hermione are recovering from a nightmare year, Ron. For me… I found out too much last night. About everything, about my whole life, about Voldemort, Snape, my parents… I’m so tired. I know if I ran straight into Ginny’s arms like I want to, I’d worry her every day, and she’d be focused on helping me and not herself, and I could hardly do anything for her. It’s sixteen years for me, Ron. Even today I… I wasn’t supposed to be alive today. I—,’

‘What are you talking about? What happened last night? Voldemort thought he’d killed you—,’

‘I can’t right now,’ said Harry. ‘Everyone’s going to be having thousands of questions and I can’t answer right now. My brain feels…’ he gesticulated like he had a big globe around his head. ‘I can’t breathe right…’ he was getting anxious, overwhelmed, yanking from his t-shirt to try and ventilate.

‘All right, all right. Let’s calm down,’ Ron cleaned his face from shaving foam and tidied up, grabbing the toiletries bag and taking Harry from the arm. ‘Let’s go and sit down. Get you some air.’

They didn’t cross paths with more than some young students who merely looked and pointed, and back in their room, they saw indications that Neville, Dean and Seamus had been there, but gone. Ron locked the door and Hermione, who had already made her bed disappear, turned around, looking at them. She was dressed and looking much better, although pale, too thin, bruised and with bags under her eyes. But one look at them told her that something was going on.

‘Harry’s a bit overwhelmed,’ said Ron.

‘Come here,’ Hermione reached for Harry’s hand and sat him down on his bed, opening the nearest window. ‘Do you need to vomit?’ she added, because he was looking green, and Harry barely had time to nod before Ron tossed Hermione a bin, which Hermione put in front of Harry’s face right on time.

Harry had already digested all from the day before and was running on an empty stomach, so his vomit was mostly bile and saliva, but he still heaved for several minutes, ending up shaken and drained of colour.

‘You lie back down,’ Hermione took the bin away, and helped him lie on his bed. The air coming from the window made him feel a little better. ‘Ron, when you’re dressed, can you get Madam Pomfrey, please? How are you feeling?’ she asked, turning back to Harry, taking his glasses off, as he had his eyes closed and was taking deep breaths.

‘I’m not dead,’ he gasped out. ‘I’m not dead. Voldemort’s dead. I have to make sure McGonagall takes care of Snape’s body, and I’ve got to tell Kingsley he was loyal to us, he never betrayed us, I’ve got to tell him he was a hero and we owe him, I’ve got to make sure justice is done and I need to check the Dursleys are still alive, and to see Andromeda Tonks, I need to tell her I’m sorry, to offer her money or whatever she needs to raise little Teddy, I’m his godfather, I need to see him—,’

‘Harry—,’ Harry didn’t hear Hermione, or the murmur of Ron leaving the room, he just kept rambling full of anxiety.

‘—tell him I’m sorry and hug him and love him and care for him like Sirius would’ve cared for me and I need to see Ginny and tell her I love her, tell her there’s no one else, tell her everything that’s happened, I can’t keep more secrets from her, it’s not fair, she has to know that I trust her, she has to know about the Peverell brothers, the Hallows, the Horcruxes, she has to understand why everyone’s dead, she has to forgive me, but I—,’

‘Harry, stop—,’

‘—need her to understand I’m a mess, I’m not happy, I’m a wreck and I cannot make her happy like she deserves and I cannot be with her if I’m going to do her more harm than good and I really think I will—,’

‘Breathe!’

Hermione’s shout made Harry stop in his tracks and actually breathe, opening his eyes to contemplate the blurry ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. The mattress sunk further and Hermione was lying next to him, holding him close, talking to him. He didn’t know what she was saying, but somehow, the sound of her voice lured him to sleep.

Chapter Text

It was only a nap of no more than an hour or two, the sun advancing in the sky as the afternoon began. Harry’s eyes opened just as he felt his body relaxed, comfortable and warmth, and the anxiety of hours before vanished from his chest. He could breathe better, and as he rolled to get his glasses from his bedside table, Harry noticed first, that Hermione was no longer lying next to him, and two, that there was a red blur he was fairly familiar with. It made him almost tremble in trepidation as he put his glasses back on, and Ginny Weasley became nitid in front of him.

She was sitting on Ron’s bed, whose position was restored beside his, and she was looking at him with expectant, tender brown eyes, with a blaze of determination underneath, like she was preparing for an exam. And even when she was pale, sad, with bags under her eyes, Harry was surprised to notice that Ginny Weasley was still the most beautiful sight he could’ve asked for. They were alone in his bedroom now, and his bedside table had several bottles of potions, a bottle of pumpkin juice next to an empty goblet, and a plate full of sandwiches.

‘Hi,’ said Ginny, her lips twitching into a small smile.

‘Hi,’ said Harry, sitting up to face her, not knowing what to say. But he didn’t have to figure that out, because Ginny reached for the sandwiches, and passed him the plate.

‘Hungry?’ his stomach responded for her, and she chuckled. ‘Eat. Have some juice too,’ she added, filling him his glass. ‘I’m going to the loo, I’ll be right back.’

‘Hermione and Ron?’

‘Said they had to talk with Professor McGonagall and Kingsley.’

As promised, Ginny was right back, when Harry had just devoured a sandwich and was about to start on his second. She sat and watched him as he ate two more and finally, set the plate down, finished his juice, and took a deep breath.

‘Better?’ Ginny asked, and he nodded. ‘You’ve slept for a couple hours. Ron and Hermione said you were a bit distraught and overwhelmed, and Pomfrey gave you some things while you were sleeping, for the stress and, she said, some broken bones… said you should be all right now.’

‘Yeah. I feel all right. Did she check them too?’

‘Yes. You can take more of this one, when you feel worked gup again,’ said Ginny, pointing at a soft blue potion. ‘I’d hold on to that one, if I were you.’

‘Thanks. Listen, Ginny—,’

‘Before you say anything,’ interrupted Ginny. ‘I just want you to know that nothing’s changed for me between us. I still want you. I still like you. I think… I think I’m kind of in love with you, even, which is ridiculous because we barely dated a few weeks, but well… you know I’ve always been into you, for as long as we’ve known each other, so I suppose it’s not so surprising,’ Harry watched her, his ears scarlet. Nobody had ever told him they were in love with him, and simply the sound of him made him a little emotional, in a good way. ‘Anyway,’ Ginny sighed deeply, ‘I know a lot has happened. I don’t expect you to just ask me out, I don’t expect us to just continue like nothing happened. I want you to know that. But I’m not going to try and land any new boyfriend, I’m going to focus on my family, and recovery, and moving past all this nightmare… and I hope that eventually, when you’re ready, you do ask me out. And that eventually… that we can be together. And until we get there… I just want to be with you, because I care about you, and I’ve missed you, and I’m happy with just being here, and we don’t have to call it anything if you’re not ready.’

‘Is not that I’m not ready. Ginny, I love you back,’ Harry confessed, which made her eyes widen, and her face glow a little. ‘I have missed you for nine months. I have longed for you every day, craved you every minute, I… there’s nobody else for me. But I realise that I’m not okay. I’m far from okay. I’m not happy, only deeply relieved, I’m not miserable either, nor unhappy, just… deeply hurt, I guess. Emotionally, mentally drained.’

‘I understand that.’

‘And it’s not just the war. For eight years I’ve faced Voldemort over and over, lost people I cared about, gone through all sorts of nightmarish experiences, and it’s been… a lot. Only to get to this point and discover more things to make my brain feel like it’s going to explode. Yes, I’m absolutely overwhelmed. Two hours ago I couldn’t even breathe. And that’s without even stopping to think of all the funerals ahead, all the people expecting great things from me, wanting answers, wanting my assistance, or advise or I don’t know what. I mean… Remus made me his son’s godfather, and I have nothing to offer to that child who is technically mine and his grandmother’s responsibility now. I have no home, just Sirius’s house, no family, all my money’s in Gringotts, I don’t have a job or finished studies… I don’t know what my life is going to be like and I have never stopped to consider life after Hogwarts much because I couldn’t see past Voldemort and now… now I’m supposed to worry about supporting Teddy, putting a roof over my head, finding a job I can do without having finished Hogwarts, paying taxes, building a life of an adult… with no preparation, not knowing where to start… of course I’m overwhelmed. The very last thing I can focus on is you. And I know you need and deserve my focus, my attention, my love and my respect, I’m done keeping things from you, I want to tell you absolutely everything… but right now I don’t think I can be with you the way I want to. I don’t think I’ve got the capacity to offer anything good to you the way you deserve me to, because I can hardly hold myself together, Ginny, and you deserve better, and I wish I could give you better, but I can’t. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get better enough to be with you. It’s like I’m here physically but mentally… and I want to be with you, I do, there’s nothing I want more. But I’m well aware that in the state I’m in, I’d only ruin everything.’

Ginny stood up and took a seat beside Harry, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his shoulder. Harry moved his arm to wrap around her, pulling her closer, and the feel of her, the smell of that perfume of flowers he’d missed for so long, and all the intense feelings and thoughts he carried seemed to make his chest burst open, and he began to cry softly, shaking and sniffling, while Ginny held him. She silently joined him, and as she did, they moved on the bed to fully embrace each other, faces into the crook of the other’s neck, arms around each other, for a very long time. When at last they calmed down, they didn’t separate. Harry’s legs were bent, his feet on the bed, and Ginny’s passed over his and locked behind him as they hugged.

‘How about we just love each other the best we can with what we have right now?’ Ginny proposed. ‘We love each other, we’ve survived, we’re here, that’s all that matters. Let’s just not judge each other, not put pressure on each other, and be open and honest with each other without taking it personally when either of us acts up if we do. We’ve been through a lot, specially you, it’s perfectly understandable if we behave oddly sometimes.’

‘Okay,’ Harry nodded, relaxed against her. He inhaled against her neck and hugged her a little bit closer. ‘I’m sorry about Fred. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry about everything. But I did it all the best way I could.’

‘I know you did,’ Ginny rubbed his back soothingly, comforted by the feel of him, the scent of his shaving cream, and his heart beating against hers. ‘I don’t hold a single thing against you Harry, no one does. All those deaths aren’t your fault, not one of them. Only Voldemort’s, thankfully, and he kind of did it to himself.’

Harry separated from her just enough to look into her eyes, pressing their foreheads together. His hands found her face, cupping it as if he could not believe she was there, and he was finally touching her. It was unreal, like out of a dream.

‘Are you okay?’ he whispered. ‘Are you injured anywhere?’

‘I’m all right. Now that you’re here, I’m as close to perfect as I’m going to get. You?’

‘Same,’ Harry nodded. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. I have thought of you every single day, every single night, wondering if you were okay, if they had gotten to you. When I heard from Lee and the twins in the radio that some students were rebelling… I was both insanely proud and insanely worried. If anything happened to you I…’

‘It didn’t. I’m okay,’ she moved her face to kiss his palm, staring into his eyes.

‘I will tell you everything, I promise. No more secrets. I just ask for a final bout of patience, so I can sort myself out a little and talk when I’m ready.’

‘Harry, now we have all the time in the world,’ Ginny couldn’t help smiling as she said so, and he smiled too, nodding. Then without further ado, he brought her face to his, and he kissed her like he had been wanting to do for months.

There were two kisses between them that were especially engraved in Harry’s memory. One was their very first kiss, the year before in May, almost a full year ago. The other, their very last kiss before this one, on his previous birthday, the night of the 31 ^st of July 1997. And now, this one. Their mouths and bodies met with the familiarity of someone who knows the way home, with the desperation of a castaway looking for drinkable water, with the passion of soldiers, the sweetness of lovers, the expertise of veterans and the love of two people who have grown around each other, silently longing, knowing each other better and better, and wanting each other no matter what, for years and years.

He did something familiar with his lips against her tongue that made her moan, which brought a smile into his lips as he trapped one of hers, and she smiled back, her teeth brushing his lip in the way she knew drove him insane. And now they were wrapping their arms around each other with the tightness of ivy spiralling around a tree trunk, their moans mixed with breathing sounds, and they tried to drag the kiss longer and longer, until finally they separated to take deep breaths, their nose rubbed red from the other’s face.

‘That was…’ Ginny gasped.

‘Unforgettable,’ Harry suggested, making her lips twitch.

‘Why don’t you go have a long, good, hot bath?’ Ginny suggested. ‘Hermione and Ron said that made them feel better. And then come to Hagrid’s. Neville, Luna, Hermione, Ron and I are meeting there, to bid goodbye, since Luna and Neville will be going home and well, we have to go home too.’

‘Home,’ Harry whispered, as if it was a foreign word.

‘With us,’ said Ginny. ‘We’ll go to The Burrow, your things are still there, and Hermione’s. And it is your home, you know that, Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins all moved out so you pick whichever room you like best, and it’s yours, okay? That’s how Mum and Dad like it.’

‘Where are they? Everybody?’

Bill and Charlie are handling Fred. Taking him to The Burrow, putting spells to keep his body in a good state until we can bury him, because we reckon that it’s going to be a few days. Percy is keeping an eye on George, who’s going to come back to The Burrow too, because don’t think he should be alone in his flat. So they’re home as well. Dad is taking care of Mum, they wanted to help with rebuilding things, which is a relatively quick task considering we’re all witches and wizards, many quite skilled, and Kingsley, as temporary Minister, has sent a team of civil servants to help with everything. So everyone’s been helping here a lot, but they all left a couple hours ago, because Ron and I reassured them we’d find out way home just fine, so that they can look after Andromeda and Teddy too, poor woman’s lost her husband, her daughter, Remus… Tonks’ Dad was killed a few months ago.’

‘I heard. I’m Teddy’s godfather, I should be there…’

‘You need to put yourself first now, everyone understands you’ve put us all first for months, it’s your turn. And we will all go home tonight. Ron and Hermione said you needed to do some things, so then you’ll have time. And don’t worry about running into anyone, most people have left. They helped rebuild a lot yesterday and early today, but they had to take their dead home, find their loved ones, particularly now all those Imperiused people are returning from all over the world, and Kingsley’s putting up a service to help reunite families. He’s already looking for Hermione’s parents, so when she leaves to find them, it’ll be after the Ministry has located them and secured it’s safe for her to go.’

‘Great.’

‘The Dursleys are okay too. The Order has kept track of everything all along.’

‘That’s really good,’ Harry nodded. ‘So Dumbledore’s Army…?’

‘Only Neville and Luna are left here. But only Lavender and… well, Colin died,’ she cleared her throat. Colin Creevey was in her class. ‘It’s a miracle really. It goes to show how great of a job you did training us, we were ready. I told them, before everyone left, that we’ll meet again in a few months, when things are more in order. When we can have more of a break. They wanted to say goodbye to you but Neville said he saw you three sleeping here, so I told them to let you rest, and we’d meet later. I mean, we’ll always be friends. Many of us will have to come back next year, Kingsley’s invalidated the entire school year because the Death Eaters were going with their own agenda, teaching us Dark Arts… so many of us have no choice but to come back anyway.’

‘Right,’ Harry cleared her throat, nodding. ‘Right, thank you for updating me. I think I’m going to use that bath.’

‘Go to the Prefects’ one, I doubt anyone will have anything to argue. Besides, once a captain, always a captain, so you have the right to use it too.’

‘Good idea,’ Harry kissed her one last time. ‘For the way,’ he added, making her smile. ‘I will find you at Hagrid’s later. I might delay, though. If I can find McGonagall or Kingsley...’

‘Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. I’ll bring food.’

‘Bless you,’ Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak, which Hermione had smartly left folded on Ron’s bed, along with his rucksack, that had clean clothes, and with a last look at Ginny, put it around himself, and left the room.

It wasn’t hard to make it to the Prefects’ bathroom under the Cloak, unseen, walking down familiar corridors and shortcuts and secret passages that looked now far cleaner and put together than they had the night before. Arriving at the bathroom, Harry saw a large pool-sized bathtub next to a mermaid that stared at him from a stained glass mirror, brushing her hair. Harry turned all the taps on and watched, transfixed, as water of different colours streamed out from a dozen pipes and quickly began to fill the bath.

Near him, Harry found racks with clean bathrobes, towels and slippers, and a bench where Harry could put his rucksack and begin to undress. He examined all his new permanent scars, but was surprised to find whatever Madam Pomfrey had done had made many bruises fade away, and many bones heal up, because nothing really hurt any more. Harry had a man’s body now; nearly eighteen, with muscles and athleticism generated by months of intense physical activity climbing up and down hills and running across the countryside, but he was still quite lanky and in his bones, and in many places, covered by thin dark hair.

Harry got into the pool, the hot water immediately soothing his muscles and bringing him to relaxation. He first dove and sat in the bottom of the pool for a few moments, letting the hot water cover every bit of him, letting his tension be released. His head came out, and he took a deep breath, pushing his hair back and leaning against the wall of the tub. After several long minutes of just sitting there in the warmth, Harry began to brush his body with one of the sponges there, rubbing it clean, and that’s when he noticed, in the middle of his somewhat hairy and bony chest, the oval scar left by the Horcrux of the locket. It was one of those few scars in his body that would never really fade completely, because they were made by dark magic. Harry touched it gently, remembering the night in Godric’s Hollow that had left it on him, when he had almost died. One more time he should’ve died. One more time he got saved by the bell.

At last, his bath was finished, and Harry got out and began to dry himself and get dressed, feeling much better.

Even though they’d been on the run for nine months, his clothes weren’t in bad shape, because during the days spent with Fleur and Bill at their house in Shell Cottage, they’d been mended, washed, and now looked almost like new. They were muggle clothes, because the only wizard attired Harry owned were his school uniform, but Harry also got some plain black robes on top, not too different from the type he’d used as a Hogwarts student, and stuffed his wand and The Marauder’s Map into its large inside pockets, putting his Invisibility Cloak over himself.

It seemed to cost Harry a great deal of physical effort to navigate Hogwarts under his Invisibility Cloak . Not because of people, of which there were very few, but because every corner held a memory. Some were happy, of the happiest days of his teens in fact, but others were tortuous and hit him like a train. He didn’t have it in him to go to the Great Hall, where most people seemed to be going now, just yet, and instead Harry went on to the castle grounds.

The fresh air made Harry feel even better, like he could breathe at last. Inhaling deeply, Harry looked at the sun and the blue skies. How beautiful it was, to look at a new day of extra time.

His feet guided him to the great lake almost without thinking, and then to Dumbledore’s white, shiny marble tomb, which had fresh flowers on it. Looking around to ensure he was alone, Harry put his Invisibility Cloak back in his pocket and pulled out t he Elder Wand. After pushing the top of the grave aside with magic just enough to leave a creak where to fit the wand, Harry was about to stick the wand inside when a second thought stopped him. He looked at the wand with sudden hatred. This was all its fault. If it had never existed, Grindelwald would’ve never been such a dark wizard, and perhaps Voldemort would’ve been so much easier to kill, and so much sooner, without so many people having to die for it. With that in mind, Harry suddenly grabbed the wand with both hands and snapped it in two, and then each part in two again, because after all it was only a stick, and broke just the same. Then, Harry put each piece into Dumbledore’s grave. He never wanted anybody to use it ever again.

With that job done, Harry then found a rock by the shore of the river to sit on. He removed his robes, shoes and socks, leaving them on the shore nearby, and pulled up his trouser sleeves so that he could submerge his feet into the cold water. Some very tiny fish immediately rushed away from his feet, and Harry exhaled deeply, looking at the mountains in the distance, seeing the sun get lower as the afternoon began to come to an end.

What was he going to do? Harry supposed he should talk to McGonagall. Explain Snape’s story, make sure his body had been recovered and was kept safe, explain as much as he could of Dumbledore’s story and his own… the task felt tiring already, but he hated to keep more secrets from a witch that had always cared about him like a son, and from whom too much had been kept already. There was no need any more.

Knowing he wasn’t going to have opportunities for alone time in abundance for a while, Harry spent a good time there with his sorrows. He let it all feel heavy in his chest, and took many deep breaths, closing his eyes and focusing on the breeze of air, the water around his feet, and the sounds of nature, before he, at last, felt ready to go to McGonagall’s. He had to get back into the Castle, climb the stairs, each step feeling like three, to what had been, for a long time, the corridor to Dumbledore’s office, and find the Gargoyle that guarded the entrance. The night before, it had been on the floor and willing to let anyone in. This time, though, it was back in its place.

‘I need to speak to her,’ Harry told the Gargoyle. ‘You know I don’t know the password.’

‘You’ll have to try. I’m back on my post and I must ask for them.’

Harry sighed deeply.

‘Albus Dumbledore,’ the gargoyle didn’t budge. ‘Victory. Fun day. Hurrah,’ Harry got annoyed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. ‘Harry Potter.’

To his surprise, the Gargoyle moved aside and revealed a moving, spiralling staircase, which Harry promptly climbed. The Headmistress’s Office was closed, so Harry knocked on the door, hoping McGonagall was there.

‘Come in,’ McGonagall’s serene voice called. Harry opened it and stood awkwardly. The Professor was sitting at what had been Dumbledore’s desk, and she stopped herself from continuing to write a letter and looked up through her small, oval glasses, her stern and serious expression relaxing as she formed a soft smile. ‘I was hoping you’d come. Close the door behind you, will you?’

Harry did as he was told, and accepted the seat that was offered to her directly in front of McGonagall, across her tidied-up desk. She had her pointy hat off revealing the tight bun of her dark hair, which had been very dark but greying when Harry was a child, but was now mostly grey, and she wore the same emerald green robes with which Harry had first seen her at Hogwarts.

‘I was just writing to Minister Shacklebolt, but I am sure that our first half-decent Minister in centuries won’t mind waiting,’ McGonagall put the letter and quill aside and looked at Harry, who sat serious, not knowing where to start. She sighed and curved her thin lips into an empathetic half smile as Harry’s eyes wandered inevitably to the portrait of Dumbledore asleep behind her. ‘Why don’t you have a lemon sherbet?’ she offered, pointing to the bowl on a corner of her desk. Absent-mindedly, Harry picked one, and as it swirled in his mouth, he felt a little better. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet in my presence.’

‘I don’t know where to start,’ Harry admitted.

‘How about… good morning?’

‘Good morning,’ said Harry, turning his attention fully to her.

‘Good morning. How are you?’

‘I’m not sure. Alive,’ Harry shrugged. ‘Did you bring Professor Snape back?’ McGonagall nodded.

‘His remains are under my custody, kept safe, and he will be buried in his home-town—,’

‘No,’ Harry interrupted, fully knowing Minerva McGonagall wasn’t a woman used to being interrupted. ‘Professor, this is his home. Shouldn’t he be buried in his home? After all… he wasn’t so horrible. He saved my life more than once, he was loyal to Professor Dumbledore.’

‘So you say. How are you so sure, Potter?’

‘Harry,’ said Harry. ‘I’m no longer your student, and Professor Dumbledore called me by my name. You should too. You’re like my family, like he was.’

The unexpected confession made Harry feel inexplicably emotional, but McGonagall smiled and nodded.

‘Thanks, Harry.’

‘I want to tell you everything,’ said Harry. ‘I know Professor Dumbledore would have. He’s probably already told you a lot.’

‘He’s told me some stuff since yesterday, yes.’

‘You deserve the truth. Professor Dumbledore hardly ever trusted on anyone, not fully, because someone he really cared about betrayed him in the worst way when he was young,’ said Harry, ‘but he always had great appreciation for you, and so do I. Hogwarts would be lost without you. We’ve won this because of you. And yet you’ve never made many questions, you have just trusted us blindly, which is exactly why you should be told everything. I am sure you’ll be the best judge to decide how much to tell Kingsley.’

‘Well, thank you very much, Harry. You don’t have to tell me more than you can, though. I know some things are harder to talk about than others.’

Harry nodded slowly.

‘The Deathly Hallows. Has Dumbledore told you about them?’ McGonagall nodded solemnly. ‘I have gotten rid of the second one, nobody will ever find it, I don’t think. I will keep the third one, because is a family heirloom, the only one I have, and I can’t see how it would be used for evil.’

‘I think that’s okay.’

Harry kept talking trying not to reveal too much, because he knew the countless of portraits from the former headmasters and headmistresses that decorated the walls were never quite asleep, even if they looked like it.

‘I have destroyed the first one, the most dangerous one, beyond repair… and is back with him,’ aware of the listening portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses, Harry merely wiggled his eyebrows towards Dumbledore, and McGonagall nodded, understanding.

‘That’s very wise of you.’

‘What else do you need to know?’

‘Professor Dumbledore did mention that maybe he should be the one to answer my questions in instalments, as we thought you must be tired, and have better things to do. He is here to help the new Headmistress, after all,’ said McGonagall. ‘So I think you don’t have to say more, or worry about the Minister. We’ll handle that,’ Harry nodded. ‘Speaking of Minister Shacklebolt, he assured me your Muggle relatives are being returned home and kept safe and protected. Also, I spoke with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger earlier today, just to check on them. I have offered them the possibility of returning to Hogwarts next year for a final time, as Shacklebolt and I have agreed that this last year distanced itself so much from the official curriculum, that everybody should repeat it. We’ll just have double amount of first-years, I suppose. I reckon Miss Granger was happy with the idea… in any case, since the seventh year is not mandatory, is up to you. But if you want to, you can come back. Hogwarts will always be here if you need it.’

Harry gave it a moment of thought, and shrugged. He felt oddly detached.

‘I don’t know. I suppose now is when I should get a house, get a job that will settle with just OWLs, pay my taxes, figure adulthood out. But I am not sure I can just return to being a student, Professor, even if it means not having my NEWTs and not being an Auror,’ said Harry. ‘I don’t think I can be a student any more. Sit doing homework and stuff… I have a godson. Teddy, Remus Lupin’s son,’ McGonagall nodded slowly. ‘He’s all alone now, well, he’s got his Grandma, but still… I think my life would’ve been better if I had had Sirius along, and I should give that to Teddy. And if I’m just a student, I won’t be able to be there so much… and I should be. I should be working hard to provide for him, I’m sure Andromeda has some money, but I should help out. And I should help the Weasleys, because they’ve lost Fred, and if everyone goes back to Hogwarts then Mrs Weasley might get lonely, so I should be there, make her company sometimes. I don’t know. I think I might have too much on my plate to be a student, Professor. I… I shouldn’t really be alive, so now there’s a lot to do.’

Professor McGonagall looked at him intently, seeing perfectly well the teenager struggling with himself and the life he had been left with.

‘You know, when you first came to Hogwarts, things weren’t that different, were they? You were lonely, trust into a world you didn’t know, not knowing what to do first. But you figured it out, didn’t you?’

‘Professor McGonagall, I almost died that year. If it hadn’t been because I got help…’

‘Exactly. You can do anything, so long as you have help,’ said Professor McGonagall warmly. ‘You know, your parents had a situation not so different from yours in 1978, when they graduated. Your paternal grandparents were very old and very ill, but very close to their miracle child, who was facing the very real possibility of losing them soon. And they did, indeed, die the next year. Your mother was coming to terms with knowing coming home to her sister wasn’t coming home, because she didn’t belong in that world any more, and her parents had tragically died two years earlier,’ Harry raised his eyebrows at the brand new information. ‘For Sirius, they were his only family. So they all sat in front of me, each in their own turn, for the traditional pre-graduation interviews with the head of their house, and they were all as lost as you. In their case, they knew they were going out into a world at war, a very dangerous one, and were determined to fight. They wanted to join Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix, they wanted to put an end to everyone’s misery… and so I told them the same thing I’m going to tell you. Don’t walk this world alone. Find people you can trust, people who love you, and help each other, take care of each other, and fight for each other fiercely.’

‘You told them that?’ asked Harry, surprised they had met with her with similar feelings.

‘Yes,’ McGonagall sighed. ‘By the time your parents died, three years later, your mother had already lost her parents in random attacks against the Muggles—,’

‘My grandparents were murdered by Death Eaters?’ McGonagall nodded solemnly.

‘Broke her heart, but she had your father. And I reckon that as hard as times got for them, like when James’s parents also died, they were overwhelmingly happy together, that they made each other joyous even in the darkest of days… and they always had Sirius and Remus, their brothers, to count on. The four of them always had each other, until the very end. They were family, not too different from you, Miss Granger, and the Weasleys. And you see, when you have people like that in your life, everything is so much easier. You might feel all alone, and is true nobody can know what being you has been like… but you’re not alone. And although the life events might differ, often the feelings don’t. Love, sorrow, fear, anguish, happiness… everyone knows them. Your friends know them. It doesn’t matter if the way in which they knew them was different from yours.’

‘I don’t know how to face anyone,’ Harry let out a shaky breath, and looked lost at McGonagall, who looked sadly at him. ‘I know it’s not my fault. It’s Voldemort’s. He did all of this. He got Fred killed. He’s the one who’s put them through hell, not me.’

‘That’s right.’

‘But I’m still at the centre of everything. My parents dying because they wanted to protect me, Cedric dying because he was with me, Sirius dying protecting me, and everyone, and these people the other day here at Hogwarts… they all stayed here, those kids stayed here, because they believed I was something special, that I had some great plan and therefore they would be safe, and now how many of them are dead, Professor? How many kids are dead? Because they stayed? Because they trusted me?’ Harry looked anguished at his former head of house. He had pain and tears in his eyes, but did not let them out. He felt embarrassed to feel tearful in front of McGonagall and dozens of portraits. ‘I can never get myself out of the equation, I can never say I had nothing to do with any of it, is like… like anyone who’s my friend is immediately in mortal peril.’

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath and a moment to organise her thoughts before replying, because she knew Harry needed to hear the right words now more than ever.

‘We are always at the centre of our own stories, Harry, and that makes it feel like we’re guilty of more things than we are. But all those people who died, they were the protagonists of their own stories, and they decided to be heroes. Not because of you… but because they were sick and tired of losing loved-ones, like you, enough to stand up and do something about it. Survivors always feel guilty… but you just happened to be there. Your parents, Sirius, Remus… they were ready to die against Voldemort since they were teenagers, they didn’t do it because of you, they would’ve done it at some point anyway if that’s what it took, they were always facing Death Eaters, unofficial Aurors they were, members of the Order… every day for them was a risk to their own life. In fact, I’m pretty sure that hadn’t your mother’s pregnancy forced her and your Dad into hiding, they would’ve died sooner, they were great wizard and witch, but nobody at that time, except perhaps Professor Dumbledore, really stood a chance against those people. But because of you they had some years, hiding, being blissfully happy, being a family, knowing what that feels like. You gave them that. Cedric Diggory would’ve likely gone on to die the other night, maybe, we can’t know. And Remus, Tonks, Fred… all the others… they had a lot to fight for. Their deaths were unrelated to you. You relate them because in your head, you’re what connects them all… but that’s only an illusion, you see? You could equally say Professor Dumbledore’s to blame, because he put them all in the Order. You can blame anyone if you try hard enough. And I am sure nobody is resentful or angry towards you, or needs an apology from you, anyway.’

Harry breathed deeply again and got up, pacing around slowly, calming himself as her words washed over him over and over again, calming him more and more.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Harry after a long while, and he slowly returned to his seat. ‘I just don’t know what to do. All my life’s been about Voldemort… what do I even do know? Where do I begin?’

‘At this hour, I would say you should find your friends and enjoy some snacks, or a good walk. We have some of the most beautiful grounds, after all. Wouldn’t a walk and some fresh air feel good?’

‘Yeah,’ admitted Harry. ‘Then?’

‘Then you might want to ask if you can help in any way. Perhaps Mrs Weasley needs some help tidying around at The Burrow, they’ve been away for a while in hiding, things might be messy. It’s a matter of remembering things become overwhelming to a disorganised mind… but if you remember to breathe and take things one by one, one day at a time, everything is so much easier. You have a home with the Weasleys, Harry, and another at 12 Grimmauld Place, if you wish. You have no need to go house hunting and worrying about taxes yet, but I’m sure when you do, they will be pleased to explain you all you need and help you. And on your own time, you might want to meet your godson properly, but you don’t have to hurry… all newborns do is poop, eat and sleep, he doesn’t quite know the difference between you and his teddy bear just yet,’ she smiled candidly and Harry snorted a laugh, rubbing his glassy eyes.

‘That doesn’t sound too hard.’

‘It often doesn’t, when you learn to count on people and make big tasks smaller. And in regards to your job… I suppose if you still wanted to be an Auror, Shacklebolt would offer you a position, after all you’ve done. But don’t hurry into a job, I think nobody will resent you if you spend some time taking baby steps, learning how to be free, how to walk without the pressure of Voldemort again, how to live without him and his terror, and that might take some time. You might need to be terribly patient with yourself, and caring with yourself. To cut yourself some slack and take things slow. Some days maybe you feel like playing Quidditch, some days like staying in bed with a good book, one day you’ll want to know how the cliffs of Dover look like, or see the Northern Lights. Dreaming about tomorrow is not a one-day job… and now you have a lot of time to do it, so why rush it?’

Harry nodded.

‘I’d never thought about those things,’ he rubbed a tear that had escaped. ‘I don’t really know the world. Maybe… maybe I could take Ginny and travel. Maybe she’d like that.’

‘I think she would.’

‘You don’t think that… that the Weasleys might wish I had died instead of Fred?’

The question made Harry feel so suddenly childish, so small and vulnerable, so sincerely scared of his only family’s rejection, that he unexpectedly broke into open sobbing, crossing his arms on the edge of the desk and putting his head there, hiding his face in his arms as he shook with the tears that took every ounce of his energy. He cried for the people he would never see again, he cried of anger, of fury, of sorrow, of sadness, of melancholy, of grief, and he cried for many things, as if he had never had the chance to properly cry over things in their due time because he was always too worried about surviving that he didn’t have the chance.

Chapter Text

It seemed like Harry had been crying for a very long time, when he calmed himself enough to realise Professor McGonagall had moved to a chair next to him and was stroking his hair. He then felt the weight of a soft blanket and when he looked, Harry saw a tartan, plaid blanket covering him. He sniffled loudly, took a deep breath, and turned to McGonagall, who smiled tenderly at him.

‘Better?’ she asked, and he nodded. ‘Is never good to post-pone a good cry when we really need one.’

‘I suppose,’ Harry croaked out, and cleared his throat, returning the blanket and sitting straighter. Professor McGonagall made a tissue appear out of nowhere, and he cleaned his face and blew his nose. ‘Thank you.’

‘Just remember one thing, Harry,’ said Professor McGonagall, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘Leaving school doesn’t mean you stop being a student, you will always be one, and you will always find teachers when you need them the most. Sometimes they come in person, sometimes as experiences and events, but they always do come in due time. And if ever you miss Hogwarts, if ever you want to talk to me, or Professor Dumbledore… we’ll be here. And it’s always a teacher’s great pleasure to continue to assist our pupils, even when they’re all grown and bearded.’

Harry snorted a laugh and for the first time, it was with sincere amusement, smiling warmly. Crying seemed to have taken a great weight off his shoulders, a pressure from his chest, and left him feeling lighter.

‘Thank you, Professor.’

‘And in response to your question… no mother would ever exchange one son’s life for the other, and I’m quite sure that you are as much of a son to Molly and Arthur, whom I’ve known since they were eleven, than Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron or Ginny. And as much of a brother to them… well, except, perhaps, Miss Weasley. I don’t think she holds very sisterly feelings for you.’

The sneaky insinuation made Harry blush and let out a laugh.

‘Merlin, I hope not, or else things would be really awkward.’

Professor McGonagall gave him a rare grin.

‘One day I hope I’ll understand what’s with Potters and redheads.’

‘I don’t think it’s redheads, Professor,’ Harry got up, and she imitated him. ‘I think we appreciate women who have more courage than we do and keep us in line.’

‘I think you might be right,’ Professor McGonagall gave him an unusual hug. ‘It’s been an honour to fight alongside you, and to teach you, Harry Potter.’

‘It’s been an honour to be your student, Professor,’ replied Harry. ‘And your soldier,’ he stepped back. ‘Thank you.’

‘Go enjoy the day, Harry. Live in the present, for the past is gone.’

It was time now to head over to Hagrid’s Hut in the gardens. As he walked there, Harry pulled out The Marauder’s Map beneath his Cloak and looked for his friends. Surprisingly, the Hut was empty, but with further inspection he was finally found the names of Hagrid, Hermione, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna in the Forbidden Forest, not far from the Hut. Harry recognised the exact spot. It was a hidden spot in the forest, near the lake, which was so large it had shores in very distant areas of the grounds, and Hagrid had first taken Harry, Ron and Hermione there in their third year. It was a nice and cosy clearing by the water, and Hagrid had put up a picnic table there and everything. And since it was only in the very beginning of the Forbidden Forest, it wasn’t particularly dangerous, especially not more than the rest of Harry’s life had been.

Harry half sprinted there, filled with renowned energy, as the sky turned orange and purple, and at last, jumping over some large branches, he saw the clearing in the forest. Hagrid sat on one of the large wooden benches around the makeshift picnic table, eating what seemed like one of his large, rock cakes, next to Neville and Luna. The other three sat across them, and the table was full of sandwiches, cake, muffins, pie and pumpkin juice, and a large bonfire burned very close to the table.

‘Hi,’ said Harry, appearing from between the trees.

‘Harry!’ Hagrid stood up jovially, and rushed to hug him, almost breaking all of his bones. ‘How are ya?’

‘Better. You?’

‘Better,’ said Hagrid, grinning, his long brown beard the same as it ever was. ‘Come sit down! We were just eatin’ a bit. Wha’ a thin’ you did, Harry! The Chosen One! Melin’s beard, yes you are.’

Harry found a seat between Ginny and Hermione, who moved to make room for him, facing Neville, Luna and Hagrid, and dropping his rucksack, with his Cloak back inside, under the bench. He reached for what looked like a muffin on a bowl full of them, giving it a bite. It tasted of chocolate, which was great.

‘We were talking,’ said Neville, looking like new, although tired, ‘and we couldn’t explain why did everyone think you were dead. Would you enlighten us, or is it top secret?’

‘Not for you,’ replied Harry, gulping the muffin with some water that he poured from a jug on the table, into an empty glass that seemed to be waiting for him. ‘It’s a bit of a long story, Hermione and Ron know bits, but… it’s rather complicated to explain.’

‘Give it a try,’ suggested Luna with a kind smile. ‘Doesn’t have to be perfect.’

‘There’s a very advanced, very powerful, and immensely dark and dangerous type of magic that it’s not very well understood, and not much is known about it. But if you are cruel enough,’ Harry tried to explain, ‘and willing to do horrible acts of murder to split your soul, you can divide into parts, save them inside objects, called Horcruxes. If you do, then you cannot die unless those Horcruxes are destroyed, which is a very hard thing to do because there’s only a small handful of ways to destroy a Horcrux. Dumbledore found out that Voldemort was surviving because he made a handful of them, scattered them in such way that finding them was the first great challenge, because they could be anything. A leaf. A spoon. Once turned into a Horcrux, even a grain of rice would’ve been practically indestructible.’

‘Did Dumbledore know which ones Voldemort made?’ inquired Neville.

‘Not really. But the night Voldemort tried to kill me,’ said Harry, quite surprised that they could call him Voldemort at last, ‘he already had some, which is why he didn’t die. When he tried to kill me that night, my mother had unknowingly done another very advanced and powerful type of magic, the best kind of it, another that is hardly known or understood. She’d loved me so much that she had stood in the middle, and, most key, refused to move aside even when Voldemort repeatedly gave her the chance to save herself. That sacrifice created a shield, so that when Voldemort directed the Killing Curse at me, it bounced off, leaving only the scar on me, and hit him. If he hadn’t had Horcruxes, that would’ve been his end. But because he did have them, his body was destroyed but his soul found another owner, living in Professor Quirrell.’

‘That’s incredible,’ said Ginny, astonished.

‘And beau’iful,’ added Hagrid, marvelled.

‘What Voldemort didn’t realise, what no one realised, is that it was another act of violence and cruelty so big that his soul split again, and he’d harmed it enough already to notice,’ added Harry, not wanting any more secrets with them. ‘And the part that split up… went to the closest living body left to occupy. Me.’

‘So you have… Him inside?’ Ginny scowled at him.

‘Not any more,’ replied Harry. ‘But it was the reason why I had that weird connection with Voldemort. Why I could speak Parseltongue, I could dream of things that were actually happening in his life, we could connect mentally. Now, my scar will only be just a normal scar, because all of that is definitely gone. But it’s the reason why I had to let Voldemort kill me, willingly. He was the only one who could kill that Horcrux. You can only do it if the object that contains it is destroyed beyond all possible repair, and in the case of a living object that means death, so I had to die.’

‘So you did go,’ Neville blurted out. ‘Without telling anyone…’ his hazel eyes seemed hurt by this.

‘I couldn’t tell anyone, or you would’ve convinced me to stay,’ said Harry. ‘Dumbledore never told me what would happen, so I thought I was truly going to die, that it was the only way. All the other Horcruxes were gone, Ron and Hermione knew about them, knew what to do, I told you the snake had to die so I knew you would help too, and Nagini and I were the only ones left. Dumbledore destroyed one and got important clues and information so we could find all of the others and destroy them, and there were six more, myself included, but we spent the year taking care of those,’ he thought revealing the Diary of Tom Riddle was one would be too much. He would rather say less now, and go in depth with Ginny, who had been a victim of it. ‘So I knew we could actually kill them, if I sacrificed myself. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it if I had told you, I wouldn’t have had the strength.’

‘Yeah but how did you find all that out? We didn’t know you were one,’ Ron pointed out.

‘When Voldemort killed Snape, and Snape gave me his memories. I saw them in Dumbledore’s Pensieve, a large thing where you can put your memories and relive them, sort of,’ Harry added for Hagrid, Luna and Neville. ‘I saw Snape working with us the whole time. Swearing loyalty to Dumbledore from the second Voldemort went for my family, because Snape was in love with my Mum, they met as children, before Hogwarts, in the Muggle world, and they were good friends who distanced when Snape became a pro Death Eater at Hogwarts and joined them. But Snape was always obsessed with her, could never think of another. He wanted her. Loved her, I suppose. So he swore to Dumbledore he’d do anything he could to save her, but the plan failed, and then after Dumbledore made him swear he would do anything to protect me, because that way Lily’s death wouldn’t be in vain. And Snape did.’

‘But he killed Dumbledore!’ Hagrid exclaimed, outraged.

‘Dumbledore was dying. He’d touched a Horcrux that was hexed, and Snape couldn’t do more than give him time. So they planned his death, because Dumbledore knew Voldemort wanted him dead, wanted his wand, which was very powerful,’ he felt it was wiser not to reveal the Deathly Hallows were real, even if he trusted them all implicitly, but best kept between less people. Hermione, Ron and Ginny. ‘Dumbledore had Snape kill him so that his wand would be loyal to Snape, not to Voldemort. But thing is, Malfoy disarmed Voldemort that night and a few nights ago, I disarmed him, so I was the true owner of the wand with which Voldemort tried to kill me, which is part of the reason why it his curse bounced on me again and killed him this time. But Snape was always doing what Dumbledore told him to, always, and it only seemed like he had betrayed us because it was necessary so Voldemort would trust him fully.’

‘Snape, a hero. The things one has to hear,’ Neville lamented.

‘But I still don’t understand why you didn’t die. Is it because of the wand thing?’ asked Luna.

‘No, because I didn’t try to defend myself, so the wand must not have recognised me…’ said Harry thoughtfully. ‘All I know is that in the memories, Dumbledore explained to Snape that I had to die, and that it was crucial that I didn’t try to defend myself, I suppose because of that, he said I had to go willingly. Snape thought just like I did that I’d really die. But what happened was, Voldemort killed the Horcrux in me, not me. And Narcissa Malfoy, Draco’s mother, came to check if I had a pulse, so I played pretend, but she knew. Thing was, she was too worried about Draco, she wanted the war over so she could find him and see he was okay, so she lied to Voldemort and said I was dead. That’s why I was able to pretend he had succeeded, and why I succeeded in the end.’

The group seemed to be deep in thought for a long moment.

‘It’s hard to quite grasp just how wise Dumbledore was, isn’t it?’ Luna commented with a soft smile, her blue eyes looking happily at Harry. ‘How did he even discover all of that?’

‘Probably ‘cause he wos the greatest of wizards. To Dumbledore!’ Hagrid raised his glass, and the others imitated him, drinking for the former Headmaster. ‘And for Harry Potter—,’

‘—and his friends,’ completed Harry, and Hagrid smiled. ‘If it wasn’t for you, I’d be truly dead. Thank you.’

‘To sum up,’ said Ron. ‘To victory, friendship and above it all, love. We’d be lost without it.’

‘Cheers,’ Ginny said, and they clinked their glasses, and drank together.

‘Speaking of,’ said Harry as he gulped, turning to Hermione, ‘so Kingsley’s looking for your parents.’

‘Yes,’ Hermione nodded. ‘I thought about what you said, needing to talk to McGonagall, so Ron and I went while you slept, and told her bits and pieces. We didn’t want to say much, because we felt you’d know better what was wise to not say. But we did tell her where we were and what we were doing, and that my parents are in Australia and what I did to them, and she said Kingsley was still in the Castle, so we went and had a brief word with him, same thing. And Kingsley promised he would find them, alive or…’ she shrugged and bit her lip, worried.

‘They will be alive,’ Harry nodded. ‘You’re brilliant, Hermione. You kept them safe. I’m sure you did,’ Hermione smiled softly and nodded gratefully. Next to her, Ron wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. ‘And how about you?’ Harry turned to Neville and Luna. ‘Your families?’

‘All good,’ Neville nodded.

‘Dad’s waiting at home, but I told him I had things to do here first,’ said Luna. ‘He mentioned what happened, when he betrayed you. He was very sorry and, Harry, as I was telling Ron and Hermione… I hope you can find a way to forgive him. He truly is loyal to you, but I am his only family left. And there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if he honestly believed it’d bring me home. He didn’t do it as an act against you, but out of love for me…’

‘Don’t worry, Luna. I understand. If it were my daughter, I probably would’ve done the same thing.’

‘Yeah,’ Hermione agreed. ‘Can’t say I’ll send him a Christmas card, but… well, he did help us a little.’

‘I dislike him,’ said Ron firmly. ‘But…’ he shrugged. ‘You’re one of my best friends, so water under the bridge.’

Luna grinned from ear to ear, probably also for being called a best friend, and Ron grinned back at her knowingly.

‘Now tha’ Voldemort’s dead, we’ll have a proper good time next year,’ said Hagrid joyfully. ‘Perhaps a DADA teacher will finally last. You’ll all come, righ’?’

‘Luna and I have no choice, they’ve invalidated our sixth year, which is compulsory,’ said Ginny. ‘Should be exciting, a year without trouble.’

‘Hopefully not boring,’ added Luna, smirking.

‘I think I would like to return,’ said Hermione. ‘I mean, I’ll be thinking about it, it’s only May, so there’s time… but I would like to have my N.E.W.T.s, you know, so that I can aspire to a good job after this whole nightmare.’

‘I’ll definitely consider it,’ said Ron. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps George needs a hand at the shop, so… we’ll see.’

There was a beat of silence, before Harry spoke, sounding determined.

‘I’m not coming back.’

‘Splitting the Golden Trio?’ Neville commented, half smiling.

‘Is time the golden trio figures out their own lives, as individual people,’ said Harry with a small smile. ‘Professor McGonagall has reminded me of the amount of things I always wanted to do but never had a chance for. Like, I have never in my life gone on holiday. I don’t know the cliffs of Dover. I don’t know the Eiffel Tower, or the Northern Lights, or the channels of Venice, or the amazing food of Spain… I don’t really know much of the ocean, actually. And if nobody’s going to be trying to kill me every second, and I’d argue the Death Eaters will think twice before rushing to get me, then I’d very much like to actually know what it feels like to have joy out of life. I think is time I get some solo experience far away from all the bad memories for a bit.’

‘But only for a bit, right?’ Ginny asked anxiously.

‘Yes, of course. Maybe a few months,’ said Harry. ‘Not too long… I have stuff to do here. It’s just that too much has changed for me, the more I think about it the weirder I feel about the idea of sitting in a classroom like I get to be a boy again, and just focus on exams while there’s so much going on at the Ministry, catching all the Death Eaters on the run.’

There was a moment of silence broken by Ron, who with some effort, seemed to be trying to come up with a joke, even a weak one.

‘So, when did you exactly stop being a boy, Miss Harriet?’

His comment, a rare attempt of humour when the mood wasn’t so high with Fred’s death, amongst the others, was unexpected enough to prompt them to laugh.

‘In all seriousness though,’ added Ron, once the laughter had died down, ‘Harry’s kind of right. After all we’ve been through and we’re supposed to just… go do our NEWTs? I want to be part of the action, help the Aurors, not… sit in Potions, make up Astronomy charts, and listen to countless hours of Professor Binns.’

‘Right, but neither of you even has a license to Apparate,’ Hermione pointed out. Harry and Ron should’ve examined in the past year, since Ron had failed his first attempt and Harry had to wait until turning seventeen. ‘And the Aurors require N.E.W.T.s. So unless you intend to work at the Leaky Cauldron, which would be perfectly noble of you but I suppose that insanely boring for the likes of you, I’m afraid you need to go back.’

‘Maybe they don’t,’ said Ginny. ‘There has to be some advantage to being in first name basis with the Minister for Magic, right? Perhaps he lets them do whatever they want, considering they do know how to apparate and they’ve sort of proven their worth in battle.’

‘That’s right! We’ll talk to Kingsley, he’ll understand,’ said Ron. ‘Besides, Hermione, that way we won’t hold you back. No more having to revise our homework and things like that.’

‘As if I’d take a year without you two over not having to occasionally revise your homework!’

‘Sweet,’ said Harry with half a smile. ‘We’ll miss you too. But at least you ladies and Neville will be together. And I will get to be there for my godson, after all.’

‘You have a godson?’ asked Luna.

‘Teddy Lupin, Professor Lupin’s son. He’ll be raised by his grandmother now, I imagine,’ said Harry. ‘Maybe that’s the sort of thing I should discuss with her, actually. But in any case, I want him to have me readily available, right there any time he needs me. I want to get to know him properly, like a son.’

‘You’ll make a good godfather,’ said Luna sweetly. ‘You were always quite fatherly in the Dumbledore’s Army meetings.’

‘Thank you Luna.’

‘You were with McGonagall then?’ asked Hermione.

‘Yeah. I thought I had lots to tell her, but turns out she was the one who had things to tell me,’ said Harry. ‘Just… giving me a bit of guidance.’

‘Speaking of giving you things… my parents reckon there’s no reason you should return to the Dursleys this summer,’ said Ron. ‘You have a home with us. Bill and Charlie said you should take their bedroom, since Charlie’s hardly in England anyway and when he is, he can take Percy’s smaller room, and Bill has a house of his own anyway. They said you can decorate it like you want and everything, and is in the third floor, so it has more privacy, and is bigger.’

Harry felt ridiculously touched by the offer.

‘That’s really nice of them, but really—,’

‘Harry please no buts,’ Ginny smiled, sucking the remains of sandwich from her fingers. ‘That room is practically abandoned, they’re not doing a major sacrifice to offer it to you. Besides, Charlie can always stay at Bill’s when he visits, there are plenty of options. The Burrow is as much your home as it’s ours.’

‘Well, fine, I will thank them, then,’ Harry gave in. ‘So what have I missed?’

They told him about cleaning around, Hagrid’s rock cakes, how the bodies of the deceased had been brought to their families and, when not retrieved by anyone, prepared for burial at the grounds of Hogwarts, and the good news that kept coming from all over the world, such as people who stopped being cursed or hexed, missing people who suddenly reappeared, and all the great, new, pro-Muggles laws and measures the Ministry was quickly putting into effect.

‘That all sounds great,’ admitted Harry, relieved.

‘Hermione and I were talking,’ said Ron, leaning with his elbows on the table. ‘Sirius’s house is probably not safe, since we accidentally led the Death Eaters there, right? So… we should probably spend the summer at The Burrow. My parents are happy, obviously, and until Hermione can get to her parents, she doesn’t really have anywhere else to go.’

‘Besides, our parents have assumed they’re yours and Hermione’s surrogate magical parents too,’ added Ginny, ‘which means that house is as yours as it’s ours. Can’t promise it’ll be too cheerful, though. Mum’s being tough as nails, but I’ve never seen George so depressed in my life. He’s unrecognizable, Angelina Johnson had to keep pushing him to eat all through breakfast.’

‘Angelina?’ inquired Harry, who’d been timidly eating.

‘She was Fred’s girlfriend, briefly. I mean they went to the Yule Ball together and dated for a bit,’ said Ginny. ‘They were no longer together by the time Angelina was Quidditch Captain, for what I know. Fred wasn’t cut out for relationships or something. Anyway, she and Lee have remained their best friends, so of course they’re with George all the time now. Mum and Dad are happy to have them home.’

‘So George’s really not holding up well,’ said Harry. ‘I mean, it’s perfectly normal…’

‘At least he’s trying, which is good,’ said Ginny. ‘And we’ve all kind of decided not to… you know… get all depressed talking about… about Fred,’ she gulped and forced a brief smile. ‘Now is the time to be happy we’re reunited and alive, there’ll be plenty of time, a lifetime, to grieve for him. So… maybe try not to bring the topic up to my parents unless they start.’

‘Right,’ Harry nodded.

‘But they’re going to be much cheered up to have you all back,’ added Ginny, squeezing Harry’s hand. ‘They’ve already told Hermione to come any time and stay as long as she wants. Percy has offered her his bedroom, and he said, I quote, “I’m sure someone with your brains will find my books quite enjoyable”,’ she added in a pompous Percy-like voice that made them laugh. ‘And you know how my parents feel about you, they’ve missed trying to ruin your bony physique summer after summer,’ she joked.

‘Time helps with all wounds,’ said Hagrid, and refilled their glasses with whatever drink each had been having. ‘But it is our duty t’ th’ dead t’ live on. Take full advantage of what they died t’ give us.’

‘Specially when it comes to Fred, the life and soul of the party,’ added Neville sadly.

‘Can we uh,’ Ron intervened, ‘change topic, please? I don’t really want to think about that any more than what’s absolutely necessary.’

‘So you and Hermione are together for real or just snogging?’ asked Ginny then without preamble. Hermione choked on her juice and Harry had to pat her back, Neville chuckled, and Ron got three shades redder.

‘Of course we’re together,’ he mumbled, embarrassed, and Hermione’s ears were also red. ‘As if we’d have it any less…’

‘Good. Then maybe now you’re dating who’s like a sister to Harry, you can stop nagging us when we’re snogging. I mean, he lets you snog his sister without complaining, so it’s only fair.’

‘One, Hermione and Harry aren’t actually siblings,’ Ron argued. ‘And two, I’m done meddling. After all we’ve done, you deserve to have it your way.’

‘Miracle,’ Ginny smiled at her brother, ruffling his hair.

‘Dumbledore was right about love,’ commented Luna with her regular dreamy voice, looking at the lake shore near them. ‘I doubt any of us would’ve risked our necks so much, or even died, for any less. Romantic love, or friendship love, or family love… or love for life, simply. That’s what you meant, right?’ she added, turning to Harry. ‘When you said you had magic and a weapon more powerful than Voldemort’s?’

‘Yes,’ replied Harry. ‘It’s cheesy, but it’s the truth. Voldemort, who was conceived due to a love potion, never felt love. He never knew the pain of losing someone, he was indifferent to murder and cruelty, he never had a true friend, or family that cared about him, or anybody who wasn’t loyal to him due to fear. He didn’t bother to understand what he didn’t have, or wish for it, because he always assumed that everything he didn’t dominate was inferior and not worth learning about, he always considered nothing mattered like being the most powerful, feared wizard of all time. And thus, he never understood I wasn’t fighting alone but with people way more loyal than those Death Eaters ever would be, and that the love shared by those who stood against him would be his doom. He should’ve known, when he couldn’t kill me as a baby. He should’ve taken the lesson then, and vanished. But he didn’t, and he kept making the same mistake over and over.’

‘I keep thinking, though…’ said Ginny, deep in thought, and turned to Harry. ‘You didn’t die, but the Killing Curse hit you. Nobody survived that curse, and now you’ve done it twice. Thrice, counting that in the end, it bounced off you again and killed him. Did nothing happen at the Forbidden Forest or did you like… resuscitate? I mean, if it did kill the Horcrux…’

‘No one can resuscitate,’ said Hermione firmly, putting her juice down. That was one thing she was sure of.

‘I am not sure what happened, or why. I’m not sure I will ever fully understand it,’ said Harry. ‘But I appeared in some kind of limbo, like a dream. I wasn’t hurt, didn’t even have a scar, and I felt better than ever in my whole life. Voldemort’s rotten soul was in a corner, wrecked beyond repair, and then… I saw Dumbledore.’

‘Blimey,’ said Hagrid and Ron at once.

‘Now bear in mind I wasn’t raised religious, so I’m not filtering my views through that,’ Harry pointed out. ‘But we talked. And then he told me it was my choice, live or die. So I decided to live. I knew if I died, there was no guarantee Voldemort would die, because I had new information I hadn’t shared with anyone yet,’ he continued. ‘And when I lived, I’d done the same as my Mum, sacrificing myself for somebody else, without trying to defend myself. And so their spells couldn’t touch you any more, because I protected you just like she protected me.’

‘I think my brain’s going to explode,’ murmured Ginny.

‘Well it is magic beyond anything Hogwarts teaches,’ said Hermione. ‘Beyond what most wizards and witches ever know.’

‘All that matters now,’ said Harry, ‘is we get to go home and live another day. And I think we’ve earned it.’

He glanced at Ginny and she smiled small, leaning against his shoulder and taking his hand in hers. Harry looked up, beyond the ceiling of leaves and branches, into the light blue sky. The sadness of the people they’d lost twisted his insides, but at the same time, he had never before felt more firmly that those who love us never really leave us. So the more he longed for them, the more he felt them close… and he smiled inwardly, knowing they always walked beside him, and one day, he’d see them again, at the end of a long, well-lived life.

Unexpectedly, Harry was overcome by an intense yawning fit, that made his glasses crook a little, and as he readjusted them, blinking sleep tears away, his friends looked quite amused.

‘How can you still be tired?’ asked Neville. ‘If you’d slept an hour more, we would’ve started checking you were still breathing.’

‘I think I might be drained for like, a year,’ said Harry lightly. Ginny checked her watch.

‘Why don’t I accompany you back? I need to use the loo and you could take a nap before dinner.’

‘Yeah… good idea,’ said Harry, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He was ready for a nap, getting up and groaning as he stretched. ‘See you later, guys.’

Hermione gave Ginny a knowing smile, and Ginny blushed while taking Harry’s hand and pulling him away. They didn’t talk much on their way back to the castle, and then, as soon as Ginny had done her stop in the ladies’, she accompanied him to his bedroom.

‘Are you tired? Harry asked nervously.

They had laid together many times, always clothed, after a good make-out session. Maybe napped on the gardens under the shadow of a good tree, or snuggled together on the sofa and fell asleep, or lied down watching the stars. But the idea creeping into his brain somehow felt way more intimate.

‘A little,’ replied Ginny about as nervous, seeing where this was going.

‘Want to… cuddle?’

Ginny nodded, and they took off their shoes, sitting on Harry’s bed. He lied down first and then opened his arms in a silent invitation, which she accepted, snuggling into his chest. Harry pulled a blanket he had over his sheets, on top of which they were lying, and pulled it over them, mostly warming Ginny. He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Ginny then slowly removed his glasses, cupped his face, and kissed him. It was just like the old kisses, soft, tender, but passionate in the way her lips gently gripped his. It made his breath catch, a knot of longing for that kiss settle in his throat, and his heart temporarily stopped beating. When they separated, he looked at her as if there was so much to say, and not enough time.

‘I know. I love you too. And you need to sleep.’

Harry nodded and felt her snuggle back into his body as he closed his eyes, nuzzling into her hair and letting her perfume invade his senses and lure him to sleep.

For a while, it seemed like he would get peaceful sleep. Harry was having a happy dream in which he played Quidditch with Ginny and an older Teddy, who for some reason greatly resembled him. Then they were on the beach, laughing and having fun, but suddenly, Harry found himself underwater and the locket was strangling him. Then a hand pulled him up from the neck and it was Voldemort, looking at him, laughing as he struggled, squeezing his neck…

He woke up much like a fish, gasping for air, his heart thundering so aggressively in his chest that it almost hurt, his eyes wide surveying the blurry image of his bedroom.

‘You’re okay,’ Harry realised Ginny was saying, ‘you’re safe here.’ She was sitting up next to him, rubbing his back ever so soothingly, looking concerned, but not panicked yet.

With much struggle, Harry finally managed enough deep breaths to properly calm himself, while Ginny handed his glasses back to him, and being able to see clearly helped him feel a little calmer. He rubbed cold sweat off his face and then turned to Ginny, who was watching him intently. That’s when Harry realised that with his record, Ginny was probably scared he might be having one of those old Voldemort related nightmares that woke him up with his scar screaming in pain.

‘It’s not a Voldemort dream. I mean, he was there but— it was a normal nightmare. Probably the first one I have ever had.’

The clarification put Ginny’s worry to rest and she nodded, bringing his head to her shoulder and stroking his hair softly.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked softly.

‘I will be.’

‘You know you can talk to me, right? If something’s troubling you… you won’t scare me away.’

That was true. It was one of the things that Harry quite liked and even admired about Ginny, that she was tough as nails, and wouldn’t get easily scared away. It wasn’t like other women in his life weren’t tough; after having witnessed Hermione get tortured for information by Bellatrix Lestrange herself, and still not say anything, he would never dare to say she wasn’t tough. But it was a different kind of toughness, it was a combination of mental, physical and emotional toughness. Harry had physical toughness and mental toughness, and so did Ron and Hermione, but emotional, they could be quite a wreck quite easily, if he were to compare. Ginny, however, had this thing her mother had, where their hearts seemed made of steel, and even when something hurt like knives, they managed to keep themselves together and push through. It wasn’t like it hurt any less for them than it did for anyone else, though, but rather, like they were better equipped to deal with emotional pain and could, with some effort, store it away for a while and revisit it more calmly when the situation was more appropriate.

That’s how Harry explained the different ways in which he’d seen the Weasleys react to Fred’s death and come back for the second half of the battle after all had come to know of his death. Molly and Ginny seemed to have put the emotional pain on hold and used it to be a flame of passion giving them strength. Ron, Percy and George had been about to crumble with the pain until they turned it into anger, and anger as easier for them to process, so it had pushed them forwards. As to Arthur, Bill, Charlie or Fleur, Harry didn’t know, because he hadn’t seen them so much, but he suspected that they likely had such mental strength that they could somehow turn off feelings for a moment and just focus on the pressing task at hand, that they were such protective, family-oriented people, that for them as long as there was one family member to fight for there was no time for crying, even if they were dying inside.

And that was how Harry knew Ginny could take him, all of him, with his traumas, his nightmares, his fears and his broken bits, better than anyone else. He might scare someone else a bit too much sometimes; most frequently Ron and Hermione. But Ginny? She didn’t fear him, she might worry, but she knew, maybe from having been possessed by Voldemort aged twelve, that a kind heart was still a kind heart even if it was suffering, if it was tormented, or if it was surrounded by something darker. And she knew how to push through all those layers and find the kindness again.

Chapter Text

Lying together on Harry’s bed, he wondered how to explain to Ginny things, because his brain seemed so full, and he didn’t really know how to talk about it.

‘It’s just that uhm…’ Harry didn’t know where to begin. ‘A lot has happened in nine months. And I’m not sure I can sleep with some of those things.’

‘What was it just now?’

‘Voldemort trying to drown me,’ said Harry. ‘Which didn’t actually happen. Well, not literally, not exactly like that…’

‘Meaning?’

Harry looked at Ginny. It took him a moment, but then he saw it. She wasn’t asking out of curiosity or gossip, she was only prodding where she could prod to get him to let enough out to not keep too much in, with the hopes that it would help him not having so many nightmares, or not so intense ones. After all, dreams were only supposed to exist to help someone process the events of life, but if talking to someone did the same job, in theory dreams wouldn’t have to.

‘A part of Voldemort’s soul, we call it Horcrux, was in this locket thing, that I had around my neck,’ explained Harry. ‘I forgot to remove it before I jumped in a freezing lake, in the winter, because I had seen Godric Gryffindor’s sword in the depths of it through the surface’s layer of ice. And then the Horcrux gripped my neck and I couldn’t get out, I was asphyxiating and freezing… then Ron found me and saved my life.’

Ginny nodded slowly and Harry sat straighter, holding her hand.

‘Where is that thing now?’

‘Destroyed. We had to destroy Horcruxes, that’s what these months have been about, in order to kill Voldemort. Otherwise he would simply keep living, as he had his soul divided so much. There were seven parts… eight if you include me, and one of them wasn’t a Horcrux because it was the part left within Voldemort. He left one in me unknowingly, accidentally, when I was a baby, that’s why I could speak Parseltongue and see things he saw, and why my scar hurt so much when he was close, it was the part of his soul in my trying to rejoin him through the same wound it came in. You know Horcruxes actually, Tom Riddle’s diary was one.’

‘Really?’ Ginny looked surprised at him. ‘That’s how he possessed me?’

‘That’s exactly it,’ Harry nodded. He found it oddly comforting to discuss the matter with someone who had suffered them too. ‘Then there was a ring that used to belong to Voldemort’s ancestors, a cup that used to be Helga Hufflepuff’s, this locket of Salazar Slytherin’s, Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem, which was the one we came to Hogwarts looking for, Nagini, his snake, and me. I destroyed the diary without knowing what I was doing, turns out is very hard to destroy them, and basilisk venom is one of the few substances that do it, so it was by pure chance that I decided to stab the diary with a basilisk fang and I had one. Dumbledore destroyed the ring. Hermione destroyed the cup. Ron destroyed the locket. The diadem came undone in a Fiendfyre Crabbe provoked, Neville slit Nagini’s head off with the sword of Gryffindor, and I let Voldemort kill me, or at least the part of his soul left in me, when I went to the Forbidden Forest to face him, that’s why everyone thought I was dead. I had to play the part to avoid actually being dead, once that part of the soul was gone from me I was as mortal as him, whereas he couldn’t kill me so long as part of him lived in me.’

Ginny listened thoughtfully, and while he was still talking, she motioned for him to lie down with her, facing each other as he continued to explain. She asked more questions, and Harry replied, and little by little he was telling her their nine months of being on the run in moderate detail. He hadn’t reached half of it when Harry fell asleep once more, this time more relaxed, with Ginny caressing his hair and back.

Not too tired any more, and with bed time close anyway, Ginny decided to remain awake watching Harry sleep. She had always been fond of Harry. At first, when she was only a child, she had worshipped him as a hero, admired him and been so in awe of him that she couldn’t manage to say a word in his presence, even in her own house, freaking out whenever he appeared. But Hermione had always told her to relax, to hang out with other boys, and she would see what she saw all the time; that Harry, hero or not, was just like any other boy, with the same basic needs, a student trying to learn magic and all about the world he’d never gotten to know, and a human being with his own flaws and vulnerabilities, not some invincible God with superpowers. Her friend’s advice had truly helped Ginny, and on her own time, she had come to be able to be around Harry without freaking out or losing her words, which allowed her to get to know him as a human, and the same happened to him when he got to see what Ginny Weasley was about. And then friendship had easily flourished, not based in legends, tales, or Harry’s history with Voldemort, but on mutual appreciation, kindness, being there when the other needed it, helping each other out more than once, making each other laugh, being loyal to one another, being supportive, and being caring. And then, love had followed.

Ginny would never forget the first time they had kissed. Back then she had known for about a year or more that she was truly in love with Harry. She had fallen not for his heroics, but for his sense of humour, his kindness, the way he always treated her family with so much respect and affection when others denigrated them for being poor, the way he looked at the magical world like a little boy with infinite astonishment and curiosity, the way he looked at her house not like some hovel, but like a palace, or his bravery and loyalty to his friends, the way he stood up for the weak, the way he was always just and tried to do things right and be respectful, or how much fun they had playing Quidditch together, and how innocently naive he could sometimes be. She loved his laugh, the little smile he got when his favourite pie appeared on the table, the way his beautiful eyes filled with affection when he put on his handmade by Mrs Weasley’s jumper every Christmas, and even the way he frowned in concentration when he wrote a letter. She loved to see him fly and be up in the air like a free bird, enjoying himself without the weights of being The Boy Who Lived, and the way his teeth weren’t entirely perfect, or how he held his quill not in the standard “correct” way, but with three fingers and supporting on a fourth, bending the tips of his fingers almost to the point of snapping them. She loved his sleepy morning face with the glasses slightly crooked and the hair messier than normal, and the way he stressed about homework and really tried to will himself to focus, and she even loved his expressions of boredom. Ginny Weasley did, truly, love every bit of Harry that she knew, even the bits she sometimes hated like his tendency to playing hero, and the bits that Harry didn’t think anyone would ever pay any attention to. She had suspected she fancied him every time she saw Harry interact with Cho Chang, she had known for sure she loved him after Harry had lost Sirius, and she had felt the horrible pain of being entirely powerless when the one you love the most is going through hell, and it had repeatedly been confirmed when she found herself inexplicably worrying for him whenever he got too obsessed with the Half-Blood Prince, whenever he went on a mission with Dumbledore and she couldn’t sleep from anxiety something would happen to him, when she saw him Captain the Quidditch Team, and in so many other moments… until they had finally kissed a year before.

Ginny could still remember the thrill of that kiss. One, they had finally won the Quidditch Cup, with her captaining through that match and catching the Snitch, so it would be memorable for her either way, but then the way they had jumped to each other, because they were the person the other wanted most to celebrate with, and it had felt so right to lock their lips together. That month they’d spent dating had been one of the happiest, if not the happiest, of Ginny’s life, before Dumbledore’s death, before hell came crashing the party. In those carefree days they had often strolled hand-in-hand through the gardens under the sun, after she’d finished her OWLs, made-out all over the place, cuddled in front of the fire in the Common Room, and been truly happy together, laughing, teasing each other, and getting to know each other and like each other more and more and more. It had ended sadly on Dumbledore’s funeral, with both wishing it didn’t have to end, and still it hadn’t kept them from kissing on his birthday. It had been the last time until the end of the battle, nine months later.

And now they were kissing again, cuddling again, connecting again, Ginny could feel the flame of love stronger than ever, but she also had to admit that they had both changed massively. He was expected to be more traumatised than most of them, or than all of them, because to everyone else what was it? A few months of hell? A few years of hell? One day of hell? They were affected in different ways. But even those who had spent decades living the terror of Voldemort, many of them had known happy and carefree childhoods, at the very least. Harry had nothing of it. His whole life had been being the main person Voldemort wanted dead, his whole life, all he ever knew, was being public enemy number one. All he had known in his childhood, from the age of one, had been loss, loneliness, feeling unwanted, unloved, disliked, being bullied for no reason, being the weirdo in a Muggle home, living under the stairs. And it hadn’t gotten much better from there on. Sure there were silver linings, like the friendships he’d made, the love he’d known, the magical world he’d gotten to know and feel amazed by, but all of those things almost seemed to quite pale in comparison to all the losses, all the fear, all the pain, all the persecution, all the emotional and physical torture and all else that he’d had to face since the age of eleven, culminating in nine months on the run, often hungry and cold, afraid this was how the rest of his life would go, always fearing for his life and that of his loved ones, and then a massive battle and more loss. Ginny almost felt lucky she had only lost Fred and some friends, here and there.

‘It’s different for Harry,’ Ginny was telling Luna just a day after the battle, while Harry, Ron and Hermione were still sleeping and the two female best friends were hanging out together by the lake. ‘All he knows is death and pain, to him the happy moments are the isolated ones in a sea of darkness. To us… we know happy childhoods. We have families who love us. We are so bloody lucky, Luna, and I’m not saying we don’t have a right to trauma or that this is a competition, I’m just saying…’

‘Our trauma doesn’t compare to his?’

‘Exactly. And nobody knows what it feels like to be Harry Potter, but I’m sure most of us wouldn’t have lasted one year in his shoes.’

All the changes now meant that Ginny wasn’t sure if Harry would still want her as an official girlfriend, or that being a couple was really the best idea they could have, but Ginny was ready to be here with all the good she had to offer, for as long as he wanted it, and to support him as much as he could, simply because he deserved it.

Ginny tucked the crimson blanket of his bed more over Harry, and watched him sleep for a long time, until she was fairly sure it was peaceful sleep this time. She then threw a gentle arm over him and closed her eyes, not quite falling asleep, but resting for a while.

She wasn’t sure how much time they spent like that, but eventually the door opened and she opened her eyes and turned to see Ron and Hermione at the door-frame, looking unsure.

‘Dinner time,’ Hermione whispered. ‘But we can bring some stuff up.’

‘No, it’s okay, thanks. I’ll wake him up, we’ll met you there.’

Ginny hated the idea of waking Harry up when he was having a good nap, but she knew he had to get his sleeping schedule right, so as soon as the door closed again, she gently tapped Harry’s chest until he opened his eyes and yawned loudly.

‘It’s dinner time. Then we’ll go home.’

‘Oh,’ Harry took his glasses back from her and sat up, suddenly anxious. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t go…’

‘Why?’

‘Everyone will be there.’

‘Not everyone. Told you, we’re very few left behind.’

‘You know what I mean. Dumbledore’s Army, the others… and then we’re going to your family...’

‘I promise it’ll be very few people, it’ll be okay. And my family… well, what’s wrong with seeing my family? They’re dying to see you.’

‘It’s not that it’s wrong,’ clarified Harry. ‘It’s just… I don’t know. Fred is dead.’

‘I know Fred is dead,’ Ginny looked intently at him, having put her shoes on, and then walked over and put a hand on his head, what made him look up. ‘Nobody blames you, you shouldn’t be nervous. All my parents want is to make sure all their remaining sons are all right, and that includes you. Let them hug all their remaining sons, will you?’

Being called a son to the Weasleys made Harry feel inexplicably braver, and her nodded, getting up. He then looked at their hands as they became intertwined, once he had also put his shoes back on.

‘There’s just one more thing…’ he murmured. ‘If people see us come in holding hands, they might have many questions, won’t they? Of your family, only Ron has ever seen us… and I don’t think he’d go telling anyone.’

‘I told my Mum.’

‘What did you tell her? When?’

‘Last Christmas,’ said Ginny. ‘I was a little gloomy… and Mum worried I missed Ron or something. I told her of course I missed all of you but… well, I told her that I’d come to realise…’ she blushed heavily. ‘That I’d fallen in love with you. And that I was afraid you’d end up dead before I could tell you.’

‘Oh…’ Harry stared at her, surprised.

‘Of course it was quite a surprise to her, so I had to tell her we sort of dated for a month before Dumbledore…’

‘We totally dated. Yes.’

‘Right,’ Ginny nodded, awkward. ‘I mean, I don’t know if that constitutes for anything official—,’

‘It could, if you want to. I think it’d be… cool, if it counted as official,’ added Harry about as awkwardly as her, both blushing a lot.

‘I think so too,’ Ginny smiled shyly, and he looked victorious at her. ‘Anyway, Mum was really happy for us, said I picked a good one and all of that, and that you’re already one of us either way… she was also saddened to hear we meant more to each other and couldn’t be together just then. But yes, nobody else knows. I told her to keep the secret, and she always does, even from Dad. Says children should always be able to trust their parents with secrets.’

‘Really nice of her,’ said Harry, and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be the time now, though. Not in the middle of the Great Hall, with people looking, right after Fred’s died.’

‘Right…’

‘But I think eventually… we could tell them. At The Burrow.’

‘Tell them what though? It’s not like we’re…’ she shrugged. ‘Or are we?’

Harry looked thoughtfully at her.

‘All I know is that I have spent nine months missing you, loving you, craving you, and hoping above the survival of anyone else that you’d be okay and well,’ said Harry. ‘And now that we’re here… I don’t want to lose you again. But also… I’m not quite the best version of myself right now. Not quite the man I’d want anyone to have by their side, if you know what I mean. I think you deserve a better person, and I’d want you to have it.’

‘What if I have also spent nine months missing you, loving you, craving you, and hoping you were okay sometimes thinking more of you than of my own brother? What if I also don’t want to lose you again? If I don’t want any more goodbyes? If time is short and I want to spend mine with you?’ said Ginny. ‘What if we’re both hurting and a little more damaged and not the best selves we’ve ever been, but with each other’s help and a lot of love and good care, we can help each other get there together? Because I really think is going to be quite the climb… and in my experience those are easier when you’ve got the right person with you. And… well… I still don’t think that there is a better person for me than you, even than the worst version of you.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive. So I think… I think we could tell my family we’re dating. I think we could tell them we’re giving this a chance… and seeing where it goes. And I think that now that neither of us is expected to drop dead any day, we should take it very slowly, specially since it’s going to be kind of long distance, with me coming back, and take as long as we need to get wherever we need to get, because then we’ll make sure that every step we take is well-taken, and not in a heap of rush.’

‘I think that could work, yes,’ Harry nodded. ‘Give them some good news.’

‘Yeah…’

‘We’re really corny, aren’t we? That’s the kind of people we’re going to be.’

They exchanged an amused smile.

‘At least we’re not making out like slugs, unlike Ronnie and Lav-Lav.’

They chuckled at each other and took a step forwards, their lips pressing together with passion, hands flying to each other, and the rest of the world disappeared, because they were all that was real in the world for the other.

Upon return to The Burrow, it was true the environment was full of sadness mixed with relief and joy, and the Weasleys were showing remarkable strength of character. Mr Weasley and Mrs Weasley, who looked far sadder and sleepless than Harry had ever seen them, managed a smile to anybody nearby, and busied themselves doing what they knew best: caring, nurturing, helping, comforting, feeding, accompanying. They managed to pop a joke now and then, even if it was a weak one, and they were there for each of their children and their friends, like invincible mammoths.

Each Weasley was its own individual person and as it’s normal, dealt with grief differently. A couple of times Harry caught Molly having a soft, contained cry, and then pulling herself together murmuring encouragement to herself, and he saw how Bill, Fleur and Charlie quickly mirrored Mr and Mrs Weasley and toughened up, supporting on one another but also helping their parents, and reaching out for Percy, George, Ron and Ginny. Harry was, not for the first time, reminded that the Weasleys were a family of strong, tough, courageous people, and even in mourning they managed ways to stand tall, service one another, and avoid completely crumbling down to pieces.

Percy was trying to compensate for all he’d done wrong, and was constantly trying to help, volunteering for all tasks, and checking on George. George was deeply crestfallen, but every morning set off to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes , and returned late at night, looking taciturn and tired. The shop was closed, so they thought he just went there to have alone time and feel closer to Fred. Whatever the case was, they knew Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan would always be there for George, checking on him and ensuring he was as all right as possible. And whatever George was doing, he always seemed more put together when he returned home than when he’d left in the morning. He still had the apartment over the shop which he’d shared with Fred, but they were fairly sure he didn’t want to be there just yet.

As for Ron, Harry felt the most confused by him, because the Ron who had come back was quite different from the Ron who’d left. After all, the Weasleys hadn’t buried a relative since Uncle Bilius seven years prior, and that wasn’t so shocking, nor affected them so much, because he’d died suddenly from a heart attack, after seeing The Grim , and being fairly old. He’d had a good life. So the Weasleys hadn’t really been shocked with a major, tragic family death since the twins, Ron and Ginny were babies, when Mrs Weasley’s brothers, twins Fabian and Gideon, had been murdered by five Death Eaters, just a few weeks after Ginny’s birth. It was a known fact that the first real blow you lived was the worst, so it was normal that the youngest were taking things a bit harder.

Therefore Ron was strangely more serious and quiet than ever, more thoughtful and introspective, but also much more tender, sweet, and fairly romantic to Hermione, full of gentlemanly gestures that made his entire family start suspecting quite early on.

‘Now A3 to…’

‘C5? And then I can take your Queen?’

‘There you go! See? You’re already doing so much better, you’ll be defeating me any day now.’

‘What is going on?’ Charlie’s whisper made Harry smile as he and some of the Weasleys glanced over from the breakfast table.

Ron and Hermione were playing Chess together in a corner of The Burrow’s small sitting room, visible from the kitchen, or rather, Ron was teaching Hermione all the tricks for her to defeat him. They weren’t fighting or arguing, but in perfect peace and harmony, blushing inexplicably at times, making each other smile and even giggle, and encouraging each other on. The family had been mid-way through breakfast when the scene had called their attention and they had all begun to stare from the far distance, with the same expression of confusion and awe of someone watching the moon for the first time, completely mystified. Ron and Hermione had been in their own little world lately, and nobody seemed to suspect they were a couple, except for Harry and Ginny, that knew, but also knew it wasn’t their story to tell.

‘Since when does Ron help anyone win?’ inquired Percy.

‘Also, has anyone noticed that those two haven’t even barked a little at each other since like… forever?’ commented George thoughtfully. He appreciated any distractions from his grieving process.

‘They don’t even tease each other, not even a little occasional bantering or mockery,’ said Percy, and turned to Harry. ‘Has the war broken them for real?’

‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘Sure they’ve been unusually peaceful, but they’re best friends, and they’ve gone through a lot together. Surely they wouldn’t be mean to each other, not even a little and not even jokingly, with all that’s going on. Not to mention Hermione’s still waiting for news on her parents.’

George narrowed his eyes on Harry and Ginny, who were dissimulating, eating cereal and looking away.

‘You know something we don’t, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Ginny replied far too quickly.

‘Sorry, we got distracted, but we’re back,’ they stopped at the sound of Ron, who’d come over with Hermione and were sitting for breakfast.

‘So how was the chess? Did Hermione win?’ Harry asked.

‘Almost,’ said Hermione. ‘At the last moment Ron somehow still managed to corner my King. I’ve no idea how he does it,’ she said with a tone of deep admiration, and Ron blushed heavily, accidentally pouring juice next to his glass.

While Ron rushed to clean up, Mr Weasley, Bill and Fleur, who had left earlier in the day, arrived with the Monday morning news from the Ministry and the rest of the world. They had only been at The Burrow since the previous night, and two full days had passed since the end of The Battle of Hogwarts, as it was now being called all over the papers. They greeted everyone and joined them, fully dressed, at the table where everyone else was still in pyjamas and dressing robes. Mrs Weasley, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry therefore turned their attention to the arrivals, eager for news.

‘So,’ said Mr Weasley, sitting down and accepting a second breakfast from his wife with a smile, ‘good news today. Kingsley wanted me to tell you, Hermione, that he’s confident he’s found your parents. It seems like they’re working for a dentistry clinic in Melbourne, he’s going to come and pick you up this afternoon to go and get them.’

‘Oh, that’s amazing! Thanks Mr Weasley,’ Hermione grinned enthusiastically.

‘Told you they’d be okay, you’re too good a witch for your strategy to fail,’ said Ron cheerfully, kissing her cheek, which made her blush harder. Ginny narrowed her eyes at them, finding his touchiness strange, just like all the blushing.

‘That said, Kingsley did want me to prepare you, to make the shock a little easier,’ said Mr Weasley. ‘It appears that you can take the memories out of your parents, but not their dreams, and you made them think they didn’t have a child, not that they didn’t want one.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hermione, confused.

‘Congratulations Hermione, it appears you have a little baby sibling,’ Mr Weasley grinned, pulling a picture out of his robes and handing it to a very confused Hermione.

It was a static picture, but Hermione could very clearly distinguish her parents sitting on a park bench, and her mother was definitely breastfeeding someone. Her father had an arm around her mother, and they were both grinning at the baby. The reality of the situation, and the fact that she hadn’t seen her parents in nine months, had often worried they were not safe, and she could now see them happy as could be, and healthy, and looking great, made Hermione bring a hand to her mouth in a vague attempt to contain a sob, as her eyes filled with tears.

‘No way,’ said Ron, stretching his neck to look. ‘Merlin’s pants, it’s true! You’re a big sister!’ Ron beamed, putting an arm around Hermione, who had tears rolling down her cheeks. She giggled through the tears and rubbed her eyes, nodding.

‘Here I was so worried and they were having sex!’ joked Hermione, making them all laugh. Full of emotion, she accepted Ron’s tight hug and kiss on the top of her head. Everyone grinned at Hermione, happy for her. It was amazing how after so much loss, in came the light. Life always pushes its way through.

‘Congratulations Hermione!’

‘Yeah, congrats!’

‘Poor baby, they’ve got too much to live up to,’ joked George.

‘Stop crying, we need to find a gift for your baby sibling,’ Ginny grinned, leaning over Hermione’s chair from behind to hug her and kiss her wet cheek, looking at the picture Hermione was still holding. ‘Blimey, they look like such a happy, adorable family! That’s so good!’

‘It’s so good I could’ve never imagined this,’ mumbled Hermione, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

‘Wouldn’t it be freaky if it was a girl and they also named her Hermione Jean?’ Ron wondered. ‘We’d have an Aussie Hermione and a British Hermione. The more the merrier,’ he joked with amusement.

‘God, imagine,’ Hermione laughed. ‘I’m calling dibs though, if anyone has to change their name, is going to be that cute little thing. I’m too famous now.’ She joked cheerfully, and everyone embraced the easy laughter.

‘I hope the baby’s a witch or a wizard,’ said Harry, feeling his chest uncannily full of joy at Hermione’s well-deserved happiness. ‘I want to see if it’s possible to have someone even brainier than Hermione.’

Hermione chuckled at him, shaking her head and looking again at the picture.

‘The baby must’ve just been born, it’s only been nine months,’ commented Hermione.

‘Kingsley reckons it looks like one or two months old up close, maybe three,’ said Mr Weasley as he ate. ‘But Merlin knows how much he knows about babies.’

Hermione frowned, thoughtful, and then her smile vanished.

‘Oh my God. That’s right, my Mum was pregnant when I sent them out,’ she suddenly realised.

‘How can you be sure?’ asked Ron.

‘I mean, not sure, not entirely…’ Hermione thought about it. ‘But now I come to think of it, they were a little weird that summer. I was too wrapped-up in my own head to notice much, but my Mum had just called me for tea when I wiped their memories, and when I did, they were sitting with their backs to me, so I could see the setting… and it looked about as formal as it does every single time we have something important to discuss. Maybe they were about to tell me. Mr Weasley, will we be able to restore their memories then? I mean, if we do… won’t they be confused about having two children now?’

‘It is possible to restore the memories of someone, erasing the fake memories you put in without removing everything. They will be quite astonished to suddenly remember you, but Kingsley has recruited the Ministry’s experts in memory charms, so if anyone can do a perfect job is them. Don’t you worry,’ said Mr Weasley with a grin. ‘It’s exciting isn’t it? With a bit of luck in a few years we’ll have another Granger coming by!’

‘I know what you can bring them,’ said Mrs Weasley with excitement. ‘I was knitting some beanies and gloves for Teddy, but I’ve made enough to share, I’ll give you some. They must be about as old, after all. And I’ll give you one of my pies, I made two yesterday. Always good to bring some good food when one has hard conversations to have.’

Hermione smiled gratefully at them both. Mr Weasley had warmed her heart already welcoming her sibling into their house even before they’d even met them, and Mrs Weasley was already trying to help so much.

‘Now that you mention it… that’s right, your little brother or sister is Teddy’s age. If they’re also magical, they’ll go to Hogwarts together one day,’ commented Harry. ‘Wicked!’

‘Indeed. God I’m going to feel so old, I’m nineteen years older,’ Hermione commented.

‘Don’t you worry Hermione, I’m eleven years older than Ginny, big age differences are nice! Then you get to always remember them when they were little, and have so much more wisdom to offer,’ said Bill with an encouraging smile.

‘It’s amazing your Mum can still have kids, isn’t it?’ commented Ron, looking at the picture. ‘It’s like magic.’

‘Ron,’ Hermione looked at Ron with a smirk, raising her eyebrows. ‘How old exactly do you think my Mum is?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ron shrugged. ‘But you once told me in the Muggle world people have children much later than here. So she’d have to be like… forty something or fifty something? She doesn’t look old though…’

‘My Mum is forty-one this year,’ explained Hermione. ‘Sure, a little old to give birth, but I’m sure plenty of people do it later just fine…’

‘Hold on… then she was like… twenty-two when you were born?’ Ron looked at her teasingly. ‘Hermione Granger, were you a little surprise?’ he asked with amusement. Hermione blushed and snorted a laugh.

‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘My parents weren’t expecting to be parents so soon. They’d only been dating for a few years and they pretty much raised me between books because they were still taking superior studies, as in the Muggle world it can go on for quite a while to have their types of jobs in healthcare.’

‘That explains a lot,’ Ron chuckled at her and turned back to his Dad. ‘So what more good news do we have today?’

Now the hype from Hermione’s news had died down a little, they could focus on the remaining news, which Mr Weasley, Bill and Fleur were more than happy to provide, as breakfast went on.

Chapter Text

Out of the about a thousand witches and wizards who had fought in their side in the Battle of Hogwarts, almost half of them students, only about three hundred in total had died, which was considered to be quite miraculous, as they were fighting Voldemort, Death Eaters, and an army of Imperiused Ministry officials and other wizards and witches of the dark side, which made up for well over another thousand. And they had managed to kill a hundred or two dark wizards and witches, and to arrest another few hundreds, while the others, who were Imperiused and had come off it when Voldemort had died, would be trialled to prove they were under the Imperius Curse and if they were, they’d be just fine.

Fifty witches and wizards who had no family or friends that have come to get them at Hogwarts would be buried within the school grounds the next morning. Since nearly half of them were students, some of whom minors, as some had sneaked back into the castle even when McGonagall had forbidden students under seventeen from fighting, everyone was being asked to attend to support those who had ultimately been all alone. It also meant that after that, they could begin to organise their own burials, while the bodies were being kept in perfect state thanks to magic. Fred was currently resting in the flat he used to share with George, where they would frequently visit, and Remus and Tonks’s were at the Tonks’ house.

Good news were that the Order of the Phoenix had now officially been dissolved, as it made no sense any more, and them, together with McGonagall, Dumbledore’s Army and, posthumously, Snape and Dumbledore, would receive the Order of Merlin, First Class, for having led the battle against Voldemort, for their courage, sacrifice and leadership, and for their dedication against the Dark Arts. It would also include the original Order of the Phoenix and any members who had died in the fight, which included Harry’s parents or Sirius, and considering that Kingsley had been removing the Orders of Merlin from all of those who didn’t actually deserve it, even from dead people, it meant a lot. Under Kingsley’s regimen, it wouldn’t be possible to just buy an OM, and he wouldn’t let anyone who’d bought one, keep it, because that would mean putting it at the same level than rightful recipients.

On the other hand, people around the world who had long ago gone missing were now being reunited with their living loved-ones, many coming out of Imperius curses, and trying to rebuild their lives now. The new Ministry under Kingsley Shacklebolt was cleaned of anybody with a single stain in their resumes, and full of hard-working, kind, skilled, wizards and witches with their hearts in the right place, so they were working together to undo all Voldemort had done, together with years of poor governments from people like Scrimgeour or Fudge, and come up with firm pro-Muggle measures and laws, returning confiscated wands, and banishing dementors from all use, including Azkaban. The Ministry was urgently recruiting Aurors, Hit Wizards, and Guards now, and with that the security for Azkaban would be more than covered, and they’d be able to find and prosecute everyone who had ran away from justice.

‘And Andromeda is coming for lunch,’ finished Mr Weasley. ‘Molly, dear, perhaps you can pack a lunch for Hermione to take to Australia, I don’t think she’ll have time to eat with us… and in Sydney they’re eleven hours ahead, so it’ll be the middle of the night for them, they won’t be cooking anything.’

‘Oh, Mrs Weasley, don’t bother—,’ Hermione attempted, but Mrs Weasley wasn’t having it.

‘No, no, of course you must take food, I’ll pack you something nice.’

‘All right, well, thank you very much then,’ said Hermione, and got up. ‘I should really go pack if Kingsley’s coming so soon…’

‘You can leave your stuff here, for when you come back,’ said Ron.

Hermione shifted awkwardly.

‘Ron, why don’t you come up with me?’

‘Okay,’ said George once they were gone. ‘There’s definitely something going on in there. Come on, Ginny, no secrets in the family.’

‘It’s not my thing to tell, I’m sorry.’

‘Merlin so there is something to tell?’ George looked surprised.

‘Vat agg you talking aboot?’ asked Fleur, looking at them with curiosity over her toasts.

‘Ron and Hermione are being weird, surely you’ve all noticed, right?’ commented Percy. The Weasleys exchanged confused looks.

‘Weird how?’ asked Bill.

‘Come on, they are being all touchy-feely and affectionate,’ Charlie pointed out. ‘Those looks they exchange, the cutesy teasing and giggling, all the blushing, Ron being all sweet and gentleman like with her… now she’s asked him to go with him upstairs, but not Harry. They never do anything alone, those two, they’re always bickering, even if just a little, at least.’

‘Ron’s been really sweet with her in the last few years, I reckon he fancies her,’ speculated George. ‘Fred used to say so.’

They came into a moment of silence at the mention of Fred, but Charlie quickly broke it.

‘Our Ronnie fancying Hermione?’ he snorted a laugh. ‘Good luck with that one, doesn’t Hermione like them all… like her? Super smart and all? Like Percy.’

‘Not really. She fancied Viktor Krum, they went to the Yule Ball together,’ explained Ginny.

‘Come on Harry, what is it that you cannot tell? Something happened, right?’ George insisted, loving how the new conversation was quite distracting from his pain. Harry kept silent, but his face read it all. ‘It did! Blimey, are they together or what?’

Harry and Ginny looked at everyone. It was so long since they had seen such sparks of excitement in them, that they knew they were going to cave in.

‘Well… there’s kind of… they kissed in the Battle…’ said Harry.

Mrs Weasley let out a high pitched sound of excitement, Mr Weasley looked like he’d been hit on the head, Bill slammed the table with a little “yes!”, and around Harry, everyone began to express relief, excitement, happiness for them, and quite the amusement as well. George went to open her mouth and his instinct told Harry he was about to shout for Ron or Hermione, so he quickly stopped him.

‘No, no! We all need to calm down, okay? Look I’m the first one dying for them to get together, I’ve been there eight years, I’m done with their bickering, but if we say anything or let on that we know or suspect anything, they’ll notice, and we might scare them away. Think of it like… like a squirrel. You can come close as long as they don’t see you, right? But if they feel you’re around, they’ll run. Seriously guys, we need to give them time to figure this out on their own and they’ll tell us whatever when they’re ready.’

‘Exactly,’ Ginny nodded.

‘Merlin knows Ron has always worked a bit of a slow pace,’ murmured Charlie. ‘But it’d be cool if they do get serious, right?’

‘Hermione is already family. If she’s with Ron, and Harry’s with Ginny, I will be a very happy mother,’ said Mrs Weasley, her hands on her chest and beaming. ‘Imagine! Hermione is just what Ron needs, someone who pushes him in the intellectual way…’ the news that Harry and Ginny were dating had been broken very early on, and everyone had been more than joyful to hear it. For all the protectiveness the Weasleys felt towards Ginny, it seemed like Harry was one they could approve without further thought.

‘And Ron’s just what she needs,’ added Ginny. ‘Someone who balances out all the nerdiness and reminds her to have fun. They complement each other well,’ she clicked her tongue and turned to Harry. ‘I think you should go with them.’

‘I really am not sure anyone should go up there for at least another half an hour,’ said Harry, unsure.

‘They’re not snogging, you dummy,’ Ginny half smiled sadly. ‘Unfortunately, they’re most certainly fighting, and they shouldn’t right before she has to leave, right?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Men,’ Ginny sighed, shaking her head. ‘Harry, Hermione is not going for a couple days and coming back, don’t you see? She’s become a big sister, she hasn’t seen her family in months… look at us, when you reunite with your family you don’t just leave them the next second, do you? And Hermione is coming back to Hogwarts, with or without Ron, which means she has less than four months to spend with her family before she has to go away, and considering how little part of her life the Muggles get to be now, and all that’s happened, do you really think she won’t take each and every day she’s given to be with them?’

‘So you don’t think she’ll come to the funerals? But she and Ron have just started out whatever they have—,’

‘Exactly. She may come to some but right now, it’s her family or having selfish fun with the boy she loves, and her family need her right now. Which means Ron cannot have her, he’s not going to like that, is he? And then he’ll shout, he’ll say crap he doesn’t mean, and they’ll be separated for months and then again when she goes to Hogwarts. You’re the only one they think knows about them, so you alone can go and make sure the last words they speak to each other in a while are kind,’ Ginny pointed out.

Harry understood then, and nodded, getting up and rushing for the stairs. Ginny wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t reached the fourth floor when he heard shouting not from Hermione’s bedroom, which was in the second floor where she was taking Percy’s old bedroom, but from the attic, Ron’s room, farther from the kitchen where everyone was.

‘Do not make me choose between you and my family Ron, because I swear—!’

‘I’m not, I’m just saying you don’t have to choose, you can have both—!’

‘You want me to split or—?’

‘No, damn it, Hermione, four months, surely you can spare some time for me!’

‘My family is going to need me all four months, don’t you see?!’

‘Oh Merlin’s sakes, what are you, their babys—,’

‘Hey,’ Harry opened the room and Hermione and Ron separated abruptly.

They had been standing very close to each other in the middle of the room, hands up in enthusiastic gestures, faces red with anger, and Hermione with glassy eyes.

‘We’re having a private conversation, mate,’ said Ron.

‘It’s not so private if anyone can hear you from the third floor, right?’ commented Harry lightly. ‘Listen, Kingsley will be here in two or three hours. Hermione, you need to go and pack. Ron, I need to talk to you.’

‘Can’t it bloody wait?!’ Ron snapped angrily.

‘No. Five minutes, all I ask,’ said Harry. Hermione looked unsure.

‘Harry, maybe I…’

‘Go pack, you’re seeing your family today,’ said Harry, and gave her a small smile. ‘Trust your brother.’

He’d never openly called himself her brother, so the gesture touched Hermione, who nodded and, rubbing her eyes, left the room. Harry squeezed her hand on the way out and closed the door, facing Ron.

‘Look, you know this feeling you have now? Seeing your family after nine months. Not wanting to go anywhere, wanting to commit your eyes to engraving every bit of them into your memory, wanting to recover all the lost time, wanting to hug your Mum a little more often, to be there for George… Hermione hasn’t seen her parents in nine months, Ron, and she hardly ever sees them anyway.’

‘I know that…’

‘Do you really? Because in the last eight years, Hermione’s spent here more than one Christmas, large chunks of all her summers, and then she’s with us again at Hogwarts every year. You don’t know how her parents must miss her all the time, how powerless they must feel sending their daughter into a world they cannot be in, or know much from, a strange world where they cannot protect or care for their only child.’

‘I know, I know…’ Ron paced around in frustration.

‘And she really thought she wouldn’t see them again because they’re Muggles, so Hermione knew that if she died nobody else could protect them, and even if she didn’t… not much stopped dark wizards from finding them and killing them in a heartbeat. Your family had means to defend themselves and you were still terrified, even I was… imagine Hermione, who knew she left behind a defenceless, vulnerable family. And now she not only gets to see them again, but… she’s got a baby sibling to meet, to spend time with, as much as she can before she doesn’t see the kid for months at Hogwarts. She’s going to want her sibling to remember her, to know her even if she spends most of her life with us. Or how do you think it’s going to be after Hogwarts? She’ll be in the Ministry or something, busting her arse off, her family will rarely see her. So… maybe she should spend four months with them, as much as she can, while she still can. Then she’s all yours. You’re the one who lives in her world, not them.’

‘It’s just that… we have barely discussed… us,’ Ron puffed, passing his hand through his hair. ‘And if she leaves… I’m just really going to miss her, and I don’t know where we stand, I was hoping to take her on a date or something… I only asked if she could visit us again in August, for a week or so.’

‘She’ll have to buy her Hogwarts stuff,’ reasoned Harry. ‘Which means she’ll probably come back for some days then. And since she’ll miss you too, infinitely, I’m sure she’ll write every day and send pictures and try to visit as much as she can, okay? So don’t ask her for something you know she’ll already be wracking her brains to give you.’

Ron took a deep breath.

‘I’m a selfish git, aren’t I?’

‘You just love her,’ Harry shrugged. ‘So how about you make sure she knows before she leaves? And then she’ll know that you won’t go around snogging anyone else, and that you’ll write every day, and will be impatiently waiting for her visits.’

‘Gee Harry, I just kissed her like two days ago, I can’t go and tell her—,’

‘You don’t say, not so soon,’ Harry clarified. ‘You show. Come on, you know how to do that.’

Ron nodded, more relaxed.

‘Thank you, mate. Come on, if you help we’ll be faster and the sooner she finishes the sooner I might get some time alone with her.’

The two rushed back downstairs, and found Ginny already helping Hermione organise clothes. Australia was going to be cold, as it was Autumn, so they had poured the contents of Hermione’s beaded bag onto the bed and were separating the clothes for colder weather. Since Hermione had had to make her parents think they never had her, she’d had to bring all her belongings to The Burrow, not all had been brought along in the bag, but they were certainly all there now, so the room, that wasn’t big, looked quite crowded, especially with books.

‘Hey uh…’ Ron put a gentle hand on the back of Hermione’s hand. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right, you need to be with them, I’d do the same thing,’ she looked utterly relieved. ‘How about I take your books to my room, uh? You won’t need them, and they’ll distract you from playing with your baby sibling. Besides, it looks like you could use some space here,’ He smiled softly and Hermione smiled back, nodding.

‘Thanks.’

‘Come on mate, let’s get these books,’ Ron told Harry, and together they joined forces, helping Hermione put away what she definitely wouldn’t need and focus on what she really would need. ‘And don’t worry too much, pack light,’ Ron added for Hermione, ‘I’ll send anything you miss.’

‘I don’t think Pig can carry you,’ said Hermione sweetly, and Ron grinned.

‘He can carry my letters though,’ Ron kissed Hermione’s cheek and left with a pile of books.

In the end, Hermione had time to have lunch with them, but not five minutes after she had put her fork down, the doorbell rang. Mrs Weasley rushed to pack her some dessert both for her and for her family, and to put the gifts for Hermione’s baby sibling in Hermione’s travel rucksack, which she was using because what she had done to her beaded bag wasn’t legal so it was better that Kingsley didn’t see it, and Mr Weasley went to open the door.

‘Hold on,’ Ron realised suddenly, ‘we don’t have any owl for you to take with you. None of us will withstand a trip between Australia and Britain.’

‘Don’t worry Ron,’ Hermione smiled, and pulled a piece of parchment from her pocket, taking his hand and putting the parchment on it, closing his fingers around it. ‘I have written my address for London here, apparently we still have our house so… send Pig to me in four days, and I’m sure I’ll be there by then and will be able to use him to write to you.’

‘Of course you thought of everything,’ Ron nodded, and put the parchment in his pocket as if it was something very delicate. ‘Well… it’ll be one in the morning and nearly winter when you get there, so,’ he zipped up her jacket and put her scarf on, as it was lying on top of her rucksack on a chair. ‘There.’

Hermione’s lips curved into a tender smile, moved by the gesture, but a moment later Kingsley was there and they were all stopping to shake hands with him and do greetings, including her. Kingsley Shacklebolt was a tall man of African origin, with a deep voice, dark skin and eyes, a bald head beneath a type of traditional African hat, and wore a long purple tunic with pointy boots. He had a golden earring in one ear, and although he was broad-shouldered and imposing, the kindness in his eyes made him seem approachable.

‘No, thanks Molly,’ said Kingsley to Mrs Weasley’s tea offers. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have much time. I want to be back on time for a meeting in the evening, if we manage, and I have the memory experts already waiting in Sydney. Do you confirm the picture I took is of your family, Miss Granger?’

‘Yes, thank you so much Kingsley, I’m in debt,’ they were used to calling Kingsley by name because they’d all met and become friends years back, before he was a Minister, when they were just in the Order.

‘Please, I’m the one in debt, after all you guys have done. Besides, I suppose is the politicians’ fault that you had to send them away in the first place,’ Kingsley smiled. ‘Shall we go then?’

‘How are we getting there?’ Hermione asked, putting her rucksack on, her heart beginning to accelerate with adrenaline.

‘I got us a Portkey,’ Kingsley explained, and checked a watch he had with a chain in his pocket. ‘We have fifteen minutes, but it’s not far, there’s plenty of time if you want to say your goodbyes. I’ll wait outside.’

‘Yes, please, thanks,’ Hermione waited until Kingsley left and as they all crowded at the door, with Kingsley walking ahead to the fence door in the far distance, Hermione turned to the Weasleys and Harry, nervous. ‘Well… I’ll see you all before the summer’s over, promise. Actually, I’ll do all I can to show up for Fred’s… so do let me know.’

‘You might still be in Australia dear,’ Mr Weasley pointed out with a sad expression.

‘Then will you please tell Kingsley to let me know? I’m sure the Ministry has owls that can reach me… I really wouldn’t want to miss it. I’m sure my parents won’t mind if I leave a few hours…’

‘Sure thing,’ Mr Weasley nodded, and walked ahead, giving Hermione a hug. ‘Well, take care of yourself and give our love to your family, okay?’

‘And write to us,’ Mrs Weasley added, rushing to also hug Hermione. ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ she added as she squeezed her tightly. Hermione smiled, nodding as Mrs Weasley separated dabbing her eyes.

One by one, Hermione was hugged by Bill, Fleur, Charlie, George and Ginny.

‘Have a good trip and enjoy Australia,’ said Ginny as she hugged her friend. ‘Write to us too, if you have time. Tell us about your baby sibling.’

‘I will, first chance I get,’ Hermione promised, and turned to Harry.

‘Come here, you must be dying to get rid of me after what, ten months?’ Harry chuckled, giving her a tight hug while feeling quite sad inside to see her go, even when he knew it was for the best of reasons.

‘Me? Never,’ Hermione giggled, hugging him tightly. ‘Stay out of trouble for five minutes, will you?’

‘I will,’ and then he lowered his voice and neared his mouth to her ear, hidden beneath her bushy hair, so that only she would hear him. ‘And I will take care of everyone, so don’t worry and focus on enjoying the family.’

‘Thank you,’ Hermione kissed his cheek and quickly rubbed her eyes, turning to Ron and taking a deep breath to steady herself. ‘Well, see you soon, King Weasley,’ she said with a grin. The nickname reflected an old song “Weasley is our King” that Malfoy and his friends had used to mess with Ron when he first started playing Quidditch and had, in turn, become Gryffindor’s victory song when he won them games.

‘See you, Insufferable Know-it-all,’ Ron continued with the joke, this time grinning as he said the same words he had once said, aged eleven, angrily and bitterly. They chuckled at one another and hugged tightly. ‘Be a good girl uh?’

‘Always,’ replied Hermione against his ear. ‘You take care and don’t do anything stupid.’

‘Might be too much to ask,’ he joked, and as they separated, they stood awkwardly. ‘Oh, sod it,’ he mumbled, and cupped her face and kissed her.

The Weasleys and Harry tried to look away to give them some semblance of pity, while trying not to be too amused. Separating once again, they were both very red in the face and ears, and Hermione was the first to speak.

‘You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do,’ she murmured, raising her eyebrows to his family.

‘Totally worth it,’ Ron smiled. ‘Come on, go before I change my mind.’

Hermione chuckled and squeezed his hand, stepping back.

‘Love you all,’ she shouted, raising her hand in goodbye, and as they all waved back, she and Kingsley walked out of the property.

They saw them walk farther and farther until they reached what looked like a rusty piece of a bicycle, and they both held into it. A couple minutes later, they disappeared.

As the days went on, Harry continued to keep an eye on all of the Weasleys, helping where he could, discovering he felt better, useful, when he was focused on other people’s well-being. A lot had changed now, although Ginny, somehow, remained somewhat the same. She took the mick on her brothers and seemed to be trying to keep the spirits from sinking completely. She’d always been a bit of a joker, but it had usually been very little compared to the level of the others. Now, however, she was the only one. But then she liked to spend long amount of times alone outside, which Harry understood, or with him but in silence, which was also okay, and as much as Mrs Weasley kept Dreamless Sleep Potions coming for everyone, she sometimes seemed to not have slept well even with that, or to be unnerved and tense at the slightest of odd sounds from the house.

Then there was Mrs Tonks. Harry visited her daily, and hung out with Teddy, who was a month old. He learned all he could about babies from the Weasleys and Mrs Tonks, helped her with anything and everything around the house, and helped her plan for the funeral. The Ministry had sent money for everyone to pay proper burials for their fallen, and Mrs Tonks wanted to give Remus and Tonks the farewell they deserved, and bury them in the local cemetery of her magical village, next to Ted Tonks Senior.

Harry was fairly sure, in the days after the Battle of Hogwarts in which he kept waking up in a mess of sweat, panic and breathlessness from nightmare after nightmare, that the nine months they had spent on the run, and the battle that had followed, would stay with him for life as the worst months of his entire existence which, given how the rest of his life had been, was to say a lot. And yet in the forthcoming days, as they attended funeral after funeral, like the ones at Hogwarts, Lavender Brown’s, Remus Lupin’s, Nymphadora Tonks’s, and a few others, and each time they felt a bit more broken and more and more devastated and in a mess, Harry began to wonder if that wasn’t the worst part.

Hermione had been forced to miss all of them, although she had somehow managed to send flowers to them all, but Kingsley had told them that she was safe with her family, that her parents had recovered their memories just fine, and that it had been decided to stay in Australia a couple weeks so that Wendell and Monica Wilkins could gradually cease to exist and return to being William and Meredith Granger without it being too shocking or attracting too much attention from the Muggles, so Hermione had probably gotten acquainted with magical Australia quite soon and was using massive Aussie owls that looked more like small dogs to send such flowers in the three days after she had left. Kingsley had also magically altered paperwork and official documents, and Confused a few Muggles, so that the Grangers would eventually be able to get back to London just fine, in a private plane Kingsley had been able to provide through his contacts in the Muggle world. After all, they weren’t the only magical family of Muggles that was struggling to return home, so the Ministry had launched a whole program to help everyone, with the collaboration of the Muggle government.

The Weasleys organised Fred’s funeral for the 9 ^th of May, by which time they had only received short letters from Hermione, when she had sent flowers, only saying things like “ for funeral, I’ll write more ASAP. Love Hermione. ”. It was therefore a surprise when the night before, as they had dinner outside in the garden in a rather gloomy atmosphere after Lupin and Tonks’ funeral, with Andromeda and baby Teddy, Hermione appeared suddenly in the garden, her rucksack over her back.

‘Hermione!’ Ron jumped off the table and ran to her, the first to notice her. He hugged her with such enthusiasm that he lifted her off the ground. ‘You’re here! You’re back! You’ve cut your hair!’ he was right. Hermione’s characteristic bushy hair was gone, and instead she was sporting a modern pixie cut, rather self-consciously.

‘Is it okay?’ she asked nervously.

‘Okay? You look sexy as hell,’ said Ron, and they both blushed, kissing. ‘Aren’t you cold in Sydney though?’

‘It actually makes it easier to put scarves on without getting my hair even messier. Hi everyone,’ they approached the table, and Hermione hugged everyone, even Mrs Tonks. ‘I don’t think we’ve met before but… I’m very sorry about…’

‘Thank you,’ Mrs Tonks, who greatly resembled her late sister Bellatrix Lestrange except that her features were older and full of kindness, tenderness and light, smiled softly at Hermione, and nodded.

‘Come meet my godson Hermione,’ said Harry, holding a baby sleeping in his arms, wrapped up in blankets. ‘This is Teddy.’

‘Oh my God,’ Hermione grinned, leaning to caress the baby’s cheek. ‘He’s so cute. Kinda looks like Tonks, doesn’t he?’

‘He certainly changes his hair as much,’ said the baby’s grandmother, Mrs Tonks, affectionately.

Harry had only met his godson two days previously, when he’d shown up at the Tonks’, alone, to help around, get to know Mrs Tonks better, as he’d only met her once, and offer all his help and all his money and resources, to collaborate as much as Mrs Tonks would let him into raising Teddy. So far they were all getting along well, as Mrs Tonks was rather fond of Harry, and Teddy, the first baby Harry had ever held, seemed to like him too, although considering he was only a month old there weren’t many ways to know.

Once all the enthusiasm for Hermione’s arrival had calmed down and she had been made to sit down and enjoy some pie, she was prodded to tell them all about Australia, and she allowed them to forget, just for a while, all their sadness and anguish about the days they had had, and the day ahead, as she made them smile with her familiar enthusiasm about different cultures, how interesting and cool both magical and Muggle Sydney were, the stories about the indigenous Australian wizards and witches, and all the amazing things she and her family had already done, on their first holiday together as a family of four, and the first in several years anyway.

‘And speaking of babies,’ Hermione added with enthusiasm, softly pointing to the sleeping Teddy. She had easily made them all cheerful again, at least for a few minutes, so they listened eagerly. ‘She’s a girl!’

The news were taken with enthusiasm and once more everyone cheered and asked for pictures, which Hermione happily provided, delivering a few Polaroid photographs with scribbled notes such as “ Family of four! Sydney, 06/05/98 ”.

‘So what’s her name?’ asked Ginny. ‘Did they name her Hermione too?’

‘Thankfully not, but Shakespeare named us both,’ said Hermione. ‘So she’s Elaine Cordelia Granger. Difference between us is, her name has already been shortened, so we’re mostly calling her Ellie, but that’s all right.’

‘She’s beautiful like her sister,’ said Ginny, holding one of the pictures for her and Harry to see, since his hands were busy on Teddy. ‘How old is she?’

‘Four months, she was born on the 7^th of January,’ replied Hermione. ‘Turns out that when I sent them away in June, Mum was already two months pregnant. They told me they were waiting for me to return from Hogwarts to tell me in person, but since I obliviated mere days later…’

Little Elaine was a lot like Hermione, in Harry’s opinion. She had a short mane of dark hair, much like he imagined his friends must’ve been at that age, very similar beautiful coffee brown eyes, and when she smiled little lines appeared near the sides of her mouth in the exact same way as it happened to Hermione. She was quite big already, chubby, and in the picture he was currently looking at, she was giggling away in her sister’s arms, facing the camera while Hermione kissed her cheek from behind, a shadow of a smile in her face as well.

Chapter Text

‘So… how have things been around here?’ Hermione, who had departed for Britain at only seven in the morning and was quite jet-lagged, was sitting, wide awake, in Ron’s bedroom, where the four youngest had reunited to talk in private.

Now that everyone knew about her and Ron, she was sitting with him, stroking his hand on her lap.

‘Horrible,’ replied Ron. ‘Bloody depressing. And all those kids dead at Hogwarts…’

‘A nightmare,’ Ginny agreed with a nod. ‘And the worst is yet to come. Mum and Dad have been such troopers, even George, but I think this is as far as they go.’

‘I suppose that the more you cry, the closer you are to being cried-out,’ murmured Harry.

The four were forming a circle sitting on the carpeted floor, on cushions.

‘I’m worried about George,’ Ginny commented anxiously. ‘He sees Fred every single time he looks at himself in the mirror, and I don’t think it’s always comforting, more like… torturing. And let’s face it, he’s never done anything on his own in his whole life, they did everything together. Playing, studying, becoming Beaters, the shop… even wooing women.’

‘I suppose there are things you never recover from, isn’t it? You just figure out a way to live with the pain that won’t feel like getting stabbed every five minutes, eventually,’ said Ron.

‘Do you think George will ever reopen Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes?’ inquired Ginny thoughtfully.

The other three exchanged thoughtful expressions, and then Ron nodded.

‘Of course he will. It’s Fred and George’s legacy, and those two have always lived for brightening the world and having fun and mischief,’ said Ron. ‘There’s no way George is ever giving up on their achievements and legacy, no way he’s going to throw away all the hard work they put in together. I suspect he’s just trying to buckle up for having to continue on his own what was always theirs.’

‘And for having to do anything on his own,’ added Hermione. ‘I mean George’s never known a world without Fred, they didn’t even live on their own.’

‘I imagine it’s quite the adjustment to go from never having to walk alone to suddenly doing it, isn’t it?’ said Ron. ‘Even when there are people always ready to help out. I suppose it’ll happen to us too. It’s always been us three, and now… we’ll be busy with work, you’ll get back to Hogwarts, at some point we’ll move out and no longer be together constantly… it’ll be weird, at least.’

‘Welcome to adulthood,’ said Ginny with a little smile. ‘It’s like, congrats you’ve defeated the most powerful dark wizard of our time, now get a job, a house, and start paying taxes!’

‘Hold up, there are taxes in the magical world? I thought it was just muggles,’ said Harry, finding himself suddenly too alarmed to laugh with the others at Ginny’s slightly dark humour.

He was just becoming aware of the rules of the adult world in the magical England, and he had no idea how many things he had to pay and do in order to live his life freely now.

‘Of course there are taxes, love, how do you think the Ministry has so much money and my family’s this poor? It’s not just because Dad barely earns enough for the amount of children he’s had going to Hogwarts,’ said Ginny with amusement. The pet name was new, and it slipped infrequently, making Harry’s stomach flip and rendering him briefly speechless every time.

‘Wait then how does it work?’ asked Harry. ‘It’s the kind of things we ought to know now.’

‘Well there’s the VAT in sales, like in the muggle world,’ said Hermione. ‘Then property taxes, but they’re paid based on land value and size of the property. The Ministry has a Housing Office that deals with all of that, and regulates where we can live without violating the Statute of Secrecy. There are also water bills, gas bills for those houses that use gas-, there are sewage bills, and to get certain things in the house, like connecting your house to the Floo Network or installing facilities to play Quidditch with the consequent charms to hide it from the muggles also costs money. There are dozens of permits that are also paid for to the Ministry, such as a permit to own a flying car or motorbike, Portkeys, or certain magical creatures, such as house-elves, if it’s a first acquisition, because they’re assigned to families, not to individuals. There are inheritance taxes as well, donations taxes, and any service the Ministry offers, such as degnoming, has to be paid for if you hire them to do it. Even to have a vault at Gringotts, the more high security it is the more you have to pay Gringotts for annual vault maintenance, and the Ministry gets a chunk out of that, and a bit of your Income Taxes as well. Healthcare is one free thing, but there are certain treatments you might have to pay for, and the Ministry gets some money out of that too, because they put money into St Mungo’s and everything. Big events also give money to the Ministry in a variety of taxes and things.’

Ginny and Ron laughed at Harry’s baffled expression of disappointment and shock.

‘What, did you think it was all magic and wonder here?’ inquired Ron.

‘Kind of,’ replied Harry. ‘I suppose it’ll get better for your parents now though, right? I mean, they only have one child left going to Hogwarts, four already have other homes and jobs of their own… has to make things easier.’

‘Oh, yeah. Mum and Dad have been talking about saving enough to go and visit Charlie in Romania next year. He’ll only stay here until September, and then he’s going back.’

‘I’ll miss him,’ said Ginny. ‘He’s always great to have around. More fun than Percy.’

‘At least Percy got his head out of his arse, at last,’ recognised Ron.

They fell into silence for a long moment, each thinking of the pains they would have to just learn to live with.

‘I think I need to make a quick trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow, if it’s back to normal,’ murmured Hermione. ‘After the funeral, of course. Something quick.’

‘Diagon Alley?’ Ron frowned thoughtfully. ‘I thought you were waiting until August to buy Hogwarts stuff? You don’t even have your school letter yet.’

‘No, it’s not that,’ Hermione was debating whether to say it or not. ‘All right, don’t worry about it, it’s fine, I’m taking care of things but… I need more Sleeping Draught. I haven’t actually slept without it since…’ she glanced at Ginny, who hadn’t heard yet. ‘Malfoy Manor,’ Ron’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

‘What? What about here?’

‘Your Mum had some to spare,’ said Hermione. ‘But only a little, so… Fleur had given me before, but I ran out of it days ago and then forgot to bring any to Australia… so I’ve been having to put charms in my bedroom to avoid waking up the whole house at night. I need to get more, only until I can manage without.’

It dawned on Harry then that the bags under her eyes weren’t due to being completely jet-lagged, but because she was suffering, very much like Harry, nightmares nightly, only that hers must be very bad, because both Harry and Ron and some of the Weasleys had been having them and they weren’t bad enough for them to have such deep bags under their eyes. Then again, Hermione had been tortured for quite the long time by the same woman who was such an expert on the matter that she had driven the Longbottoms to irreversible madness seventeen years before. It was a miracle, given the circumstances, that Hermione hadn’t gone mad.

‘Shit, I had no idea, otherwise I would’ve gone and—,’

‘It’s okay Ron,’ Hermione squeezed his hand. ‘I’ll take care of it…’

‘But what about now? You don’t have any for now…’

‘I’ve been doing some meditation, I’ll practise. Besides, in Sydney is morning now, so I’ve just woken up, I’m not that tired,’ said Hermione. ‘Might catch up with some reading…’

‘Excuse me for interrupting, but… Malfoy Manor?’ Ginny looked curious. ‘You mean when you rescued Luna? Why would that make it hard to sleep?’

‘Well uh…’ Hermione looked dubious, but then decided to go with it. ‘Bellatrix got me. Harry and Ron were put in the cellars and that’s where they found Luna and Mr Ollivander’s and arranged for Dobby to rescue them but… meanwhile Bellatrix was… interrogating me for information.’

It took a moment for the penny to drop, but then Ginny’s face went from utter confusion to paling, eyes wide with horror.

‘No,’ she gasped out. ‘She tortured you?’ Hermione nodded. ‘No!’

‘Thankfully not long enough to leave her insane,’ murmured Ron. ‘Thanks to Dobby.’

‘That’s horrible,’ said Ginny. ‘How many messes have you gotten yourselves into?’

‘You’re going to have to specify a time frame, because if you mean in life we might be here for a while,’ replied Harry, and Ron snorted a laugh, while Hermione and Ginny smiled small, shaking heads.

‘I mean while on the run,’ said Ginny. ‘I thought you’d told me the worst bits.’

Ginny had gradually been feed little bits and pieces here and there by Harry and Ron, and occasionally on letters, by Hermione. Just small stories and anecdotes.

‘Some worst bits aren’t mine to tell,’ Harry said with a shrug. ‘But yeah, that’s pretty much it. Horcruxes, Malfoy Manor, robbing Gringotts, infiltrating the Ministry, almost getting killed in Godric’s Hollow.’

‘Which reminds me…’ Ginny clasped Hermione’s hand. ‘Thanks for keeping our boys alive. Merlin knows they’d be lost without you,’ Hermione smiled warmly and shook her head as if taking importance off it, then Ginny stretched her arms over her head. ‘I’m going to bed. Try to sleep, everyone.’

‘Goodnight,’ said Harry, and Ginny pecked his lips.

‘Goodnight guys,’ Ginny waved to the others and left the room.

‘Great, now I’m third wheeling,’ Harry joked, and Ron gently punched his shoulder.

‘It’s good to be back together, all of us, as it should be,’ said Ron. ‘Balance’s off when we’re apart.’

‘You better get used to it though, I’m not going to babysit you forever,’ Harry teased him, enjoying the last few hours before he knew Ron would be miserable.

‘Who are you calling babysitter? I’m the one who got you out of a lake,’ Ron went along with him, smirking playfully. ‘And I’m older than you.’

‘That’s right,’ Harry suddenly realised. ‘You’re already eighteen! We haven’t celebrated it at all, and it’s been two months.’

‘It wasn’t like we had a calendar, Hermione’s eighteenth also passed unseen,’ Ron noted. ‘And it’s not like it’s the best time to celebrate.’

‘It’s all right, we’re big kids,’ said Hermione. ‘Not a big deal…’

‘No, you know what? 31^st of July. We’ll celebrate all our birthdays together,’ said Harry. ‘And you’ll come, Hermione, and we’ll have a massive cake for three and we’re all blow the candles together and everything.’

‘It really isn’t a big deal, Harry…’ murmured Ron, even though he was touched.

‘It is. The fact that you’re alive to get older is a big deal, Ron,’ said Harry. ‘And your lives should be celebrated properly. You deserve it.’

‘That’s very sweet of you, Harry,’ noted Hermione.

‘Just my usual,’ Harry joked, getting up. ‘I better go to bed too. Goodnight lovebirds.’

Harry made his way to his bedroom, in the third floor, above the twins’ and Percy’s former bedrooms, which were now normally empty, except when Hermione occupied Percy’s. Now, however, George and Percy were staying at the twins’ apartment in Diagon Alley where they cared for Fred’s body, and Charlie was staying at Bill and Fleur’s in Ottery St Catchpole. Percy did also own his own place, but he wanted to be with George for now, and George didn’t feel like staying at The Burrow. It was probably a place that held too many memories with Fred, as they’d grown up there together.

Walking to his bed, Harry sat down on it, turning the bedside lamp on with his wand, and looked around. Bill and Charlie’s old bedroom was large, and had been somewhat edited since the last time the brothers had inhabited it, so that instead of two twin beds, there was one small double bed, and instead of two desks, there was only one, with bookshelves full of all types of books. Clearly the room was thought to be now a guest room that could be occupied by Bill and Fleur whenever they decided to stay there, or by Fleur’s parents, and there was still space to pull a fold-out bed like the one Harry used to have in Ron’s bedroom when needed. He imagined that Percy’s room had undergone a similar remodelling and hence Hermione using it. Besides, now Mrs Weasley knew she had two couples of teenagers sleeping under the same roof, it made sense for her to want to keep them in different floors.

And yet, Harry’s mind that night was far away from the thoughts of Ginny’s parents about their children’s new romantic relationships. He was thinking of Fred and, more so, in the entire collective of Weasleys. Harry knew that Mrs Weasley, even though she could seem weak because in the last few years she had often been on the brink of a panic attack every time she didn’t hear about one of her children for a moment, was actually and incredibly tough woman. She had lost her parents and brothers during the First War years, before many of her children had even been born, and she was still standing strong with a remarkable level of resilience. He knew that a part of her would never recover, just like for Mr Weasley, because how could one ever recover from being robbed so cruelly of a child? But on the other hand… he knew Mr and Mrs Weasley had grown up in difficult times, faced difficulty their entire lives, faced loss more frequently than many others, and still managed, and would continue to manage, to keep going strong, because they had a family to take care of, something bigger than themselves that pushed them forwards no matter what. Tomorrow would be hard and they would be heartbroken, but eventually, Harry knew their resilience would keep them going.

It was different for their children, though. Yes, they had also grown up in times of War, but they had had remarkably happy lives compared to their parents. They were too young to have faced major struggles beyond War, they had never before lost many people, they were used to five full meals at home and Hogwarts, to a warm and cosy home full of a large, loving family, to laughter, to evenings playing Quidditch and chasing off gnomes, to having a good time and living a fairly calm, countryside life. And now all of a sudden they had lost one of themselves, perhaps the bubbliest, funniest, biggest free spirit of them, and not just that. All of the sudden their world was dark with loss after loss, with empty chairs around them, photographs full of people they would never see again, and they had seen murder, they had had people trying to kill them, and even, on one occasion, they had had their house burnt down, even though it had been magically regenerated just like that.

And Harry, who knew loss well, thought it was going to be so much harder on Ron, Ginny and their brothers, especially for the remaining four youngest. Bill and Charlie were grown up, they had been in the Order, they had battled a lot before, and had seen a lot of horror. After all, Charlie tamed dragons for a living, and Bill was a curse-breaker for Gringotts. But Percy felt so guilty about Fred’s death, because he’d been right there when it happened, and because Percy had betrayed and turned against his family a few years previously, standing with the Ministry instead, and he must be having so much regret, perhaps even the false idea that hadn’t he left, maybe Fred would still be alive. Then it was George, who was Fred’s twin, and how could you possibly lose your own twin sibling, who you have literally known since the womb, and keep going with your life just like that? More so when it was an identical brother, someone George would see every time he faced himself in the mirror. George, like Fred, was a trickster, a jokster, a person who needed fun and laughter and to make others fun and laugh in order to enjoy life in the slightest, someone who hated too serious situations, who could make jokes even moments before facing death, in the midst of battle… George wasn’t used to something like this taking all the fun away, and he had to face not just losing Fred, but figuring out how to laugh again without him.

And then there were Ron and Ginny. Ginny would perhaps have it easier of the two of them, because her happy bubble had broken sooner than Ron’s, aged twelve, when she got possessed by Voldemort’s Horcrux diary. She had since been quite older than her actual age, at least mentally, and she seemed to be managing her pain in a way that was mostly okay. But Ron… Harry figured that for Ron, the darkness of the world didn’t become so tangible until they battled at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic when Ron was already sixteen and Harry, fifteen. He figured that must’ve been the big moment for him, and then the last year had finally and irrevocably shattered any sort of happy bubble that Ron could still have remnants of, if ever. But it wasn’t just that with Ron. The people present when Fred had been murdered, aside from the Death Eaters, had been Percy, Ron, Harry and Hermione, and Harry would never forget the way Ron had broken right there, willing to abandon the mission and just go after the killer and strangle him right then and there with his bare hands. So like Percy, it was possible Ron was feeling he could’ve changed the outcome, if he had been there sooner.

Harry removed his clothes and, once in his pyjamas, slid under the sheets and turned the light off, removing his glasses. He stared at the dark, blurry ceiling, and resolved George should be his priority the next day, because Hermione would surely have Ron and Ginny, and as Ron and Ginny would try to toughen up for the others, they’d probably crumble at some point later in the day. So if Harry focused on George, he could then change the focus to Ron and Ginny as the day came to an end.

With a sense of dread, he closed his eyes and, after tossing and turning for a while, Harry finally fell asleep.

His dreams that night were a confusing mix of bolts of light from spells thrown left and right, explosions, giant spiders, and Lord Voldemort telling him he’d broken his Firebolt, until he suddenly woke up sweating cold and breathing hard.

‘Sorry,’ he looked up and saw Ginny at the door, already dressed, looking worried. ‘You okay?’

‘Yes, yes uh… morning.’

‘Morning. I know it’s crazy early but could you please hurry and get ready? George and Percy are here, they put Fred’s coffin in the shed for now but uhm… well, Dad was going to just dig the grave with a wave of his wand on the spot, but now George says he wants to do it by hand, so all the boys are saying they’ll help and I figured, you’re quite strong…’

‘Yeah, of course, of course,’ Harry checked his watch. It wasn’t even six in the morning. ‘How come there’s so much going on already?’

‘I guess nobody slept much,’ Ginny shrugged. ‘I’m sorry again…’

‘Not at all,’ he jumped off the bed and in two long steps he’d reached Ginny. ‘I’m glad you woke me up, I want to help, thank you,’ Harry then cupped her face. She was pale and clearly hadn’t slept much. ‘How are you holding up?’

‘Good question,’ replied Ginny, releasing a deep sigh.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips against the side of her head as he held her lovingly.

‘The good news is after today, there are no more funerals,’ said Harry in a low voice, and felt her nod against his shoulder.

‘I want this day to be over already.’

‘Then let’s go and finish it.’

Harry got dressed with clothes that wouldn’t get in the way of digging a hole and after a quick stop in the loo, he trotted downstairs to the kitchen. It was the most decadent morning he’d ever witnessed at The Burrow. Mrs Weasley was sitting with her dressing gown on over her pyjamas, her greying hair in a messy bun, barely eating and having a face of pure sadness. Mr Weasley, all dressed, went around pouring hot teas and encouraging his children to eat. Bill and Fleur were dressed and had eaten at home, for they were standing around going from sibling to sibling checking on them and encouraging them on, whereas Charlie was drinking a steaming mug of coffee with a pale, serious, absent expression, and Percy was trying to distract himself reading The Daily Prophet , yet Harry didn’t see his eyes move across the page.

George was staring at his steaming cup of tea with bloodshot eyes, his chin supported on his crossed arms, while his mother caressed his hair and back softly, and Ron was walking around making toasts and serving breakfast with Hermione, both also dressed. Harry felt bad for Hermione too, as it was the evening in Sydney and her biological clock was probably wondering what in Merlin’s name was going on, her eyes visibly exhausted as she checked on Mrs Weasley and prodded Ginny to finish her breakfast. And Ginny was half toying with a toast, half checking on her brothers.

‘Ron, I’ll do that,’ Harry took over frying eggs. He’d done it a million times at the Dursleys. ‘Why don’t you sit down and eat some?’

‘Yes, Ron, come sit down,’ Hermione softly directed her… boyfriend? Towards the table.

‘We’re early on schedule, so we are in no hurry today,’ said Mr Weasley. ‘Guests won’t start coming until noon. Are you sure you want to do it by hand, George?’

‘Yes,’ George croaked with a hoarse voice. ‘He always did things with his own sweat and hard work, and that’s the way we should do it, us, his brothers. The proper way.’

‘I’ve already gotten us a bunch of shovels, so we should be good to go,’ commented Bill, putting his long hair back in a small bun. ‘We should wet the ground first, though, it hasn’t rained in a while and it will be hard. What are we doing with the flowers, Mum? Because people have been sending them all week. Even Hermione’s parents sent a beautiful bouquet, we could put them all out there afterwards.’

‘Yes,’ Mrs Weasley nodded with a small, forced smile. ‘Good idea dear, I think I can magically return them to the soil and we’ll have a beautiful flower garden around it.’

There was a clear effort going on to avoid mentioning words such as “Fred”, “grave” or “tomb”, so Harry took mental note of it.

‘So… when you say guests, who…?’ asked Harry.

‘The remaining members of the former Order of the Phoenix, our entire family, some good friends like Elphias Dodge and the Lovegoods—,’

‘The Lovegoods?’ Ron turned harshly towards his father, scowling. ‘You mean you’ve invited that piece of rubbish, Xenophilius Lovegood?’

‘Rubbish?’ Mr Weasley was quite confused. ‘But I thought you were friends with Luna.’

‘With Luna,’ Ron nodded. ‘Not her father, he’s a traitor Dad. He sold us out, when we were away, we went to him one time for help and he called the Death Eaters on us.’

‘Did he now?’ Mr Weasley scowled. ‘What? But that’s…’

‘In all fairness,’ Hermione raised a conciliatory hand, ‘they’d kidnapped Luna, Ron, and told him if he gave them Harry, they’ll give Luna back. She’d been gone for months, Xenophilius must have been worried sick, and he did help us—,’

‘Hermione, none of us would’ve ever sold them out even to get one of our own back,’ said Ron, unforgiving. ‘That man’s a rat. If I see him coming to this house I swear I’ll—,’

‘No you won’t,’ Hermione’s tone had suddenly gotten so hard and cutting, Ron was easily silenced, stunned by her unusual sharpness. ‘Today’s Fred’s funeral. There will be no harsh words against anybody, no ugly gestures, no raised voices, no fighting, and no duelling. Mr Lovegood made a terrible mistake, well, Ron, Luna is all the family he has and he was desperate and besides, we got away. When you become a Dad, maybe you’ll understand, but in the meantime, you will learn to forgive just like I forgave you, didn’t I?’

Ron was speechless.

‘Forgave him for what?’ Ginny asked, glad for a change of topic from Fred’s death.

‘It does not matter because it’s water under the bridge, and it’s forgotten,’ Hermione said pointedly. ‘The past doesn’t exist any more so we will forgive the mistakes people might’ve made during the War, no matter how big they were, because we love each other and we ought to stay united. We must remember what Remus said, there are very few people left to trust already, we can’t turn against each other for stupid past riffs.’

‘Hermione is right,’ said Mr Weasley firmly. ‘Whatever happened is water under the bridge, we’re friends. We will forgive each other and accompany each other in sorrow, especially when people are kind enough to come over. This is about… Freddie. Not about us.’

‘Right,’ Ron nodded. ‘Sorry.’

He was still looking at Hermione as if she was an alien, but just as she’d suddenly gotten harsh, Hermione quickly went back to sweet and tender and was passing Ron more eggs and bread and absently rubbing circles on his back as she read The Daily Prophet over Percy’s shoulder.

The sun was barely up in the air when they all, dressed and ready for the day, got out into the back garden. The Burrow stood like a tower of wooden boxes or different sizes put one on top of each other and held together with magic, next to a river, and in the middle of a large green field of countryside between hills in Devon. On top of the nearest hill they had a fenced area hidden with bushes and trees where they had long ago played Quidditch in the summers, and in another of the seven neighbouring hills lived the Lovegoods. Near The Burrow there was a large shed where Mr Weasley kept all his Muggle artefacts that he enjoyed collecting, in front of the house there was a esplanade where they had, the previous summer, put a marquee and married Bill and Fleur, and in one side there was a large area of vegetable garden surrounded by tall bushes that the gnomes often jumped to walk into their property. The other side of the house, and the back, were surrounded by a large expanse of the wildest, most forest-like garden that Harry had ever seen, and it was there where they would bury Fred, near a pathway that went into the depths of the garden, beneath the shadow and protection of a large alder tree. Mr Weasley had put a gravestone there the day before to mark the spot George, Mrs Weasley and himself had chosen, and Bill and Charlie had marked the area of ground in front of it that needed to be excavated in and removed the vegetation and stones from it so that they could easily dig.

Harry had felt similar to George about Dobby’s grave, which he’d dug up himself, so as he was passed a shovel, all the men rolling up their sleeves and forming a circle around the marked patch, he found it perfectly logical that Fred’s brothers would dig up his grave, and felt honoured and touched that the Weasleys had had this unspoken agreement that Harry would, of course, dig with them as another brother. And Hermione, who could’ve magically created the most stunning of graves in five minutes, seemed to understand as well, because she didn’t offer to use magic and instead, she, Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Fleur stood nearby passing the men water glasses filled from a jug every now and then.

The men took in turns to dig, so they started together and as the hole began to demand to continue inside of it, therefore only leaving space for three or four of them to dig at once, the other half got out and waited until their turn came, so that nobody exhausted themselves too much. When at last they had dug up a hole ten feet deep, between eight and nine feet long, and close to five feet wide, they all climbed out of the whole, drenched in sweat, covered in mud and soil, and with their faces and hands red from the effort, stretching and closing their aching hands.

‘Good job brothers,’ said George with a nod. ‘This is good.’ He rubbed his eyes with the inside of his shirt and put his shovel down.

Mrs Weasley went to hug her sweaty son, proudly patting his back.

‘We’ll surround the whole place with flowers, would you like that Georgie? And you can throw some fireworks from here, when it’s all done tonight. He should go with a party, right?’

‘Brilliant idea, Mum, yes,’ George nodded again.

Back home, all the men took turns to bathe and get dressed, and within a few hours, the house was funeral ready, but instead of dark clothes, everyone had been asked to wear the most colourful and “happy” attires they had, doesn’t matter what they were from, and it led to the most extravagant looks Harry had ever seen, which made them unexpectedly burst into laughter at once when they saw each other, reuniting in the kitchen. Mr and Mrs Weasley had dug up old clothes from the Muggle psychedelic era, which had caught them in their teens, so they looked like strange, colourful, shiny rainbows. Bill and Fleur were wearing colourful Egyptian tunics, and one by one everyone else had found the most extravagant, shiny attires they owned, including colourful knickerbockers or, as it became absolutely hilarious in Ron’s case, a head-to-toe rendition to a Quidditch team. Since Ron was a Chudley Cannons fan, this meant he looked like a shiny, giant carrot. And it wasn’t just that; since the moment it became clear that the funeral was going to be a party, days before, Harry had come up with the idea of finding the typical silly things Muggles wore on New Year’s Eve and giving them to everyone to wear on the funeral, magically edited for the occasion; so there were shiny and colourful party hats, fake glasses with shapes like stars, whistle-blowers, and colourful party bracelets and necklaces.

And once they became hundreds of wizards and witches, including people like McGonagall, Hagrid or Dumbledore’s Army, dressed in such fashion, it was actually difficult not to laugh. It seemed like it might be easier than they had thought to get through the day after all, or at least so they thought, reuniting with friends, pointing out and laughing at each other’s attires, and using Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes products that George, his assistant Verity and friends Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson were giving away for free so that the laughter kept going.

The serious moment came when the brothers and Harry lifted Fred’s coffin on their shoulders and carried it to its grave, setting it next to the dug up hole. A short wizard from the Ministry said a few solemn words, officiating the funeral, and they all stood together to listen. That was followed by anecdotes about Fred that had them shedding some tears and, at last, Mr Weasley magically put the coffin into the hole and then the brothers once more grabbed the shovels to deposit the soil on top. At last, Hermione lifted her wand and the fresh mountain of soil became flat and fresh green grass grew out of it, with white flowers scattered over it. With another flick of her wand, the mountain of flowers people from all over had sent or brought and that they had put aside, raised in the air, magically grew roots, and planted themselves all around Fred’s grave.

‘Beautiful,’ George mumbled with appreciation. ‘Thanks Hermione.’

George and Verity then walked to the pyrotechnic products from the shop that George had selected, and soon, the sky above them filled with all sorts of amazing fireworks, providing an hour long of spectacle which they watched, stunned, sitting and standing around Fred’s grave in utter silence except for the sounds of amazement, and the occasional nose-blowing, which in Hagrid’s case, sounded as strongly as a trumpet.

‘It’s like Fred’s gifted them to us,’ Ginny murmured, leaning back against Harry’s chest as they sat together and rubbing her eyes. Harry nodded, looking around. Everyone was more or less tearful, some openly crying and smiling at once, and everyone, with eyes up in the sky, seemed to be thinking the same thing.

And even as the hours passed and they walked out of the garden, even as the family was left alone by dinner time and the day turned into night, Fred and George’s final fireworks seemed to have left long-standing remnants shining in the sky for them to see. And when they all got into bed, and George had disappeared, they were suddenly surprised by new fireworks George seemed to be lightning alone with his twin, for one last time.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Just the two of us.

The Weasleys were, as for late, remarkably enthusiastic with the idea of having Harry become Ginny’s official boyfriend in what was her most serious romance so far, per her own admission. It didn’t matter that the couple were taking things slow and being rather casual about their relationship, even if neither of them was going to go date someone else on the side or anything remotely close to that. All they cared about was that their youngest “children” had both found a good person to be with, someone for them to approve and love.

Harry didn’t have much to compare with, but he found that having known Ginny for so long, and having considered her such a good friend for long as well, it was a remarkably easy relationship that progressed and got more serious almost without being too aware it was happening, so that even if they were casual about other things —they didn’t dare to share a bedroom at The Burrow, to ever share a bed there, not even for a moment, they didn’t do that much PDA, and they weren’t talking about moving together, or making plans for the future as a couple— emotionally, feelings felt quite serious and mature.

Harry had never loved before like this, and his relationship with Cho hadn’t been more than one disastrous date. Meanwhile Ginny, who had previously had a long relationship with Dean Thomas and a short one with Michael Corner, had never before Harry been actually in love , as she’d fancied Harry and learned to adore him for years and years, thinking of him even when she dated others, and although she didn’t go around telling everyone, it was obvious by the way she looked at him and treated him. After all, it is always incredible how much love one can show with the smallest of gestures. Harry had been expecting for any of the men to come and give him the talk he’d heard about in the muggle world, the one about “if you treat my girl wrong, I will kill you”, but nobody seemed inclined to give it. It was like the Weasleys couldn’t think of anyone better for their one girl, had nothing to argue, and were more than happy to consider Harry a brother or a son.

Hermione had it a little differently, though, because Harry and Ginny had already dated for a month and a half before Dumbledore’s death, so they faced the rekindling of their relationship with known familiarity, whereas Ron and Hermione were just starting to date for the very first time, and in very unusual post-war circumstances, while virtually living together. It was much like trial and error, and sometimes, like walking in a mine land trying not to get blown up. It wasn’t the first relationship for either Ron or Hermione, but it was the first one the family knew about.

Still, the Weasleys were glad, to say the least, that Ron had finally gotten his act together with Hermione. Everyone reckoned they kind of always had some sort of tension going on, and it was nice not to see them at each other’s throats continuously any more. Nevertheless, with Hermione out of the country, the family saw their mostly long-distance relationship from the distance, and Hermione and Ron weren’t getting the level of scrutiny they would probably end up suffering. Hermione kind of expected Mrs Weasley would be as protective of Ron as she’d been when Fleur and Bill got together or when she’d thought Hermione was breaking Harry’s heart due to Rita Skeeter’s lies, and the two of them seemed very shy with PDA. In consequence, whenever Hermione had been at The Burrow since the war, she had navigated between immense shyness and wanting to leave it perfectly clear in public that she really did care about Ron, resulting in small but sweet gestures and loads of blushing and stammering. And Ron had a similar case. He’d never cared about PDA when he was with Lavender, but it seemed like when his whole family was around, he had a different reaction. He’d always blushed easily, but now he spent almost every hour red in the face, because maybe Hermione had touched his hand or kissed his cheek, or written him a particularly sweet letter once she was away, or maybe he’d braved-up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders briefly while they ate lunch. Still, he was in his own home and that did add a bit more of comfort, not having to face Hermione’s parents, so at times he did something like taking a deep breath, gathering his nerves, and it would be followed by a grander gesture, like a dog marking his territory. Only that instead of licking Hermione’s face, he’d simply go ahead and kiss her, or release a deep compliment he seemed to have been holding for a long time. In the end, they just became really amusing to observe, and it took Harry and Ginny every ounce of self-restrain not to tease them or take the mick on them, because it felt like if they did, they might scare them back into pretending to be just friends. It felt like dealing with very shy birds who blushed and started acting awkward, clumsy and stupid whenever they got too close in public, but also couldn’t help gravitating towards each other at all times.

They didn’t get that many chances to tease, though, because Hermione didn’t linger at The Burrow long. She wanted to be with her own family, which she felt still needed her very much, and Ron wanted to be the kind of boyfriend that encouraged her to put family first, because he also believed those were very important values. He didn’t want to keep her behind, to hold her back, and so, they were separated, and the Weasleys and Harry had to meddle and ask, or wait for Ron to maybe drop a hint, in order to get a better idea of where the relationship was and how it was going, as the days went on.

‘That one’s a dragon.’

‘A dragon?’

‘Definitely.’

‘Looks like a rabbit to me.’

‘A rabbit?’ Ginny’s throat emitted an amused giggle which made Harry, lying on the grass next to her, smile.

‘Look, those are the ears,’ said Harry pointing towards the large cloud above them. ‘And the legs…’

‘All right… but I like mine better.’

‘I like yours better too. And what’s that one? Definitely a ship, isn’t it?’

‘A ship? More like a mountain of pancakes…’

The young couple broke into contagious laughter as once more they were fascinated by one’s lack of vision and the other’s extreme vision, and how their differences amused each other, rather than irritating them. They had been lying on the grass for hours, enjoying the warm, sunny day, trying to detoxicate from all the awful days they had been having dealing with the worst of the Battle’s aftermath.

Now, they felt more relaxed and cheerful than they had in a while, and they had to admit that lying together, alone, on top of a hill, felt quite nice. Harry was still trying to explain the logic behind it, but it was hard. All he knew was that when he was with Ginny, he felt less heavy, more empowered and capable of anything, and not like some tragic, sad story. His worries seemed to vanish, as did the stress and anxiety, and instead, a comfortable warmth and cheerfulness settled in the pit of his stomach.

‘Harry,’ Ginny murmured in a relaxed tone after a moment of silence. ‘Are you my boyfriend?’

‘Only if you want me to be.’

‘Do you want to be?’

‘Of course.’

‘Me too.’

They turned to each other, hands intertwined on the grass between them, and exchanged a small smile with eyes bright with excitement.

‘I’ll take you on dates,’ said Harry in a promising tone. ‘It just doesn’t seem to be the right moment just yet, isn’t it? Death Eaters hiding in the corners, half Diagon Alley still shut down…’

‘We have time. Besides, when I return to Hogwarts we can do Hogsmeade weekends.’

‘That’d be nice. That’s a goblin.’

‘I’d say Grindylow. What are you going to do?’

‘Well I already use glasses so…’

‘I don’t mean about your poor ability with cloud shapes,’ Ginny specified with a smirk. ‘I mean…’ she looked more serious, thoughtfully surveying the clouds. ‘With your life. You don’t sleep right, you use caring for us as a distraction, you are not returning to Hogwarts, you are not talking to Kingsley about the Auror thing, you are not making any plans… and I mean you should. You don’t have to save the world any more, you’ve got enough money to not worry about working, and no part of Voldemort lives in you any more, so you’re all yours to do with yourself anything at all, dream high, the sky’s the limit. But you’re not doing that at all, are you?’

‘I don’t really know how to dream, Ginny.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘But it is. You know, in my first year at Hogwarts I came across the Mirror of Erised, a magical mirror, now I believe destroyed, that shows you your heart’s deepest desire, your biggest dream. I saw my family,’ explained Harry. ‘When I took Ron over, he saw himself with a giant trophy and Captain of the Quidditch team. I couldn’t even dream of something I could actually perhaps accomplish one day, don’t you see? I saw the impossible. And then every year since it was all survive the school year, then survive the summer, only to end up finding out either I’d kill Voldemort or he’d kill me and… how was I going to dream of anything then, really? I never even dreamed of winning. As sad as it sounds, I was just focusing on making it to the next day, so… you have an eighteen year old boyfriend who now has to learn to dream, to ask questions like what do I feel like doing instead of what do I have to do, and it takes a while.’

Ginny stared at him in thought for a while.

‘Sometimes,’ she commented, ‘I think it’s easier to dream of something big in the long run, and then all you have to do is make sure every thing you do henceforth brings you a bit closer to that. Like… I see myself old and wrinkly, still sexy in some way,’ she added, and Harry’s lip curved involuntarily at the thought. ‘And you’re there, with me, as always. And we have like, a dozen grandchildren around, and we’re still playing Quidditch, making pies, and living the good life with our family. That said, no pressure, I didn’t just ask you to marry me and give me children, that’s not—,’

‘I know,’ Harry looked amused at her. ‘It’s a nice dream. I like it.’

‘Wanna give it a try? Like… imagine the happiest day you could imagine, perhaps…’

Harry stared at the white clouds as they spiralled, moved, transformed, mixed up… and he thought hard of Ginny’s premise.

‘My scar becomes a normal scar that hasn’t bothered me in like, sixty years or so,’ said Harry, ‘and I sleep at night, and everyone’s still around, Hermione, Ron… everyone… and we’re still like family, we still enjoy spending time together, it’s still nice even though we’re old and grey. And I have a wonderful white mane, and you still think I look great,’ Ginny smiled warmly at him. ‘And it’s Christmas so your Mum’s made us all jumpers and they still get better every year, and we have so many people over between everyone’s kids, grandkids and great-grandchildren that we have to eat outside on several big tables extended with magic. There’s another generation, toddlers, playing around, laughing… like no war ever happened. And Teddy’s there too, and he’s a grown man, happy, a skilled wizard, he’s got his own children and grandchildren too, and all the kids play together like they all belong to one single family, because that’s how we feel about each other. And then late at night, we lie down just like this, but this time we’re looking at the stars, so we see a shooting star… and you ask me to make a wish, only that I can’t, because I have everything already.’

His picture was so beautiful that it had elicited tears in Ginny’s eyes, and she grinned at him, moving to kiss his cheek soundly.

‘I hope every bit of that becomes true,’ said Ginny. ‘With some luck, we had a shooting star, only there’s so much light for us to see it.’

Harry grinned back at her.

‘Yes… I hope so too,’ then, with a second thought, Harry turned to face her. ‘Would you marry me?’

The sudden question seemed so absurd that it elicited a chortle from Ginny.

‘Harry Potter, are you proposing?’

‘No, no,’ he blushed heavily, looking away. ‘I’m only saying… say that we continue to date for several years, that then we’re still in love and still not tired of each other, and can begin to envision a forever together… then, would you marry me?’

Ginny’s brown eyes fixed on him in deep thought. Then, with a serious expression, she replied.

‘Yes I would. Would you propose to me?’ he turned to look at her and smiled.

‘Yes I would.’

‘Even if I decide I want seven children?’

‘Yes,’ Harry looked amused at her, but knew he would jump into that waggon without a second thought. ‘What about if I decide to go on and become an Auror? Would you still want to be married to me?’

‘Of course.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘No, really think,’ Harry sat up, looking down towards her. ‘Everyone wants to leave the battle behind, everyone is ready to forget about war and duelling, everyone is looking for peace, quiet and happiness. Would you really be okay with having a husband who goes on missions for the Ministry for days on end, around the world, often with secrets if the work is confidential, someone who continues to risk his life all the time, who keeps getting himself in trouble, who will earn himself more enemies who might therefore target you or our family? Imagine being married to Mad-Eye Moody—,’

‘Or to Tonks.’

‘Yeah, well…’

‘Is that the kind of life you want for yourself?’ inquired Ginny. ‘More pain, more fear, more trauma? More trouble and danger?’

‘Is not like I want it. I never wanted any of this, you know when I was a boy I just wanted—,’

‘Peace, quiet and happiness.’

‘Yes. But right now,’ said Harry, ‘it feels like I’ve lost so much and sacrificed so much and gone through such hells to achieve this wonderful world of peace and quiet, that I don’t want anybody to mess it up. I don’t want to leave it to other people to keep it that way, to make the important decisions, to push me to the back row like this hasn’t been my life’s work… when it is. My whole life’s been devoted to this, and I’m not sure I can trust someone else to take care of it. Of my family, my friends, the world I love, keeping us safe… and the Aurors are the elite. They work hard and help people sleep calm at night handling the worst Dark Wizards out there, they’re always having adventures and all… and I have to admit I’ve never been one to sit knitting, precisely. Perhaps is time I embrace the kind of man I’ve become, whether I like it or not, and I am an Auror at heart.’

‘In that case, my answer doesn’t change,’ said Ginny, and sat up with him, cupping his cheek. ‘I’ve known you for years and Harry, you’re brilliant at many things, like Quidditch, but you are an Auror, you always were. I knew that when I fell for you, and I can’t promise I’ll love every aspect of your job… but I love you, I love you’re passionate about making this world a better place, and I don’t want you to change for me and sit at home cooking, cleaning and taking care of the kids just so I’m not worried, even if it means you’re always gone somewhere and we have to miss you at home. I know you’ll always work hard to be super present when you’re home anyway.’

Harry’s softly pink thin lips curved into a smile and his eyes gleamed.

‘I like the idea of us having a home together,’ she smiled too and pecked his lips.

‘So do I.’

‘And speaking of that,’ added Harry, getting a little nervous. ‘I’ve been thinking about the fortune my family left me. It’s a lot of money, Ginny. I’ve done some research, asked Hermione for some reading material, and as it turns out, I come from a long lineage of legendary potioneers — yes I know,’ he added, seeing Ginny trying not to laugh because he truly hadn’t inherited the talent, ‘And I thought it was just my Mum who excelled at those but apparently the Potters came up with that hair potion you ladies use to look extra great.’

‘The Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion? You’d do well using some sometimes.’

‘Yeah, well that was my Grandpa’s invention. So they’ve accumulated loads of money after generations and generations of Potters coming up with popular potions,’ explained Harry. ‘And I’m the only one left, so I inherit everything. My Dad and my Grandpa had no siblings, so any relatives left would be very distant, so imagine how full my vault at Gringotts is. And I don’t need all that money, you guys could make a better use of it—,’

‘Harry, I love you but I will not accept that. It’s all you have from your family,’ said Ginny with a soft expression. ‘And we’re okay as we are.’

‘Well… I was actually going to say… what if I shared it with you?’ said Harry. ‘You guys are my family now, and your parents won’t accept it but you’re my girlfriend so you could. I thought… it’s a bit stupid actually, is probably too soon…’

‘You thought what?’

‘I don’t have a house. Hogwarts was my home, The Burrow is kind of my home… but I want my place. An upgrade from the Cupboard Under the Stairs,’ he joked with half a smile. ‘I want a place with you. Somewhere to start over, you know? So I figured… what if I took a good chunk of the money and invested it into building us our own place? Somewhere big where we can have everyone over for Christmas, with big fields to play Quidditch, and great views to relax after work. I thought, it’ll take a while to make it, I’d have to find a designer, figure out how these things even work here… but if it all goes well, perhaps in a year it’d be ready, and you would’ve contributed to its design all the way. And then if you think you’re ready… you could move in with me after Hogwarts, next year or the following if you want to do your N.E.W.T. exams.’

Ginny watched him with rapt attention, like an owl.

‘You want me to move in with you?’

‘Eventually, yes.’

‘To build us a home, and let me have my say in it?’

‘Yes.’

She looked confused at him, astonished.

‘For real?’

‘Yes.’

‘But what about taking things slow?’

‘I’m saying in a year, not now. We’re basically going to be having a long distance relationship for the majority of it so…’

‘Oh, Harry…’ she beamed bright like the sun. ‘That would be… amazing. But what about Grimmauld Place? Sirius left it to you, and since you told us Snape was good then, it should be safe.’

‘But then I led Death Eaters to it, by mistake,’ explained Harry. ‘Kreacher has been keeping it safe and he thinks it’s all okay but… that house was a place Sirius ran away from. A place he hated. A place that reminds me of times when I needed to hide… and a place that might not be safe. Not to mention it was a sanctuary for anti-Muggles, and it’s not exactly beautiful and homey, is it? Doesn’t even have a garden.’

‘True.’

‘I’ll sell it,’ said Harry. ‘Convince Kreacher to leave it, to come with us… he’s been really nice during this year, took care of us, he was great.’

‘Truly?’

‘Yeah. And then I’ll donate the money to the most pro-Muggle cause I can find,’ he added with a smirk, and Ginny snorted a laugh.

‘Signed with love, Walburga Black,’ she joked, prompting them to laugh together.

Then, Ginny took his hand between hers on her lap and leaned against his shoulder, enjoying his company. Harry turned to kiss the top of her head, feeling affectionate, then leaned his cheek against her hair and released a deep breath, closing his eyes and enjoying her company. He started to think of how much he had wanted to be with her when he’d been about to die, and now he was just happy to have her there, with him, under a new sun.

And as if somehow, her mind had gone to the same place as Harry’s, Ginny said:

‘I know you did it for very noble reasons, Harry, but… I still can’t quite believe you went to let him kill you and you didn’t even say goodbye.’

Only listening to her, Harry didn’t think too much of the comment. But when he looked at Ginny, he was surprised to see her eyes had suddenly gotten glassy, her jaw clenched, and she seemed genuinely hurt.

‘Ginny…’

‘No! You don’t get to just go without even saying goodbye, you hear me? You have no idea, no idea! Of the pain I felt when I saw you there and I thought, I—,’ it seemed to catch not just Harry, but also Ginny, by surprise to have worked herself up so quickly, so much in fact that she was all of a sudden on the brink of sobbing, putting a trembling hand over her mouth in an effort to try and contain herself, trying to gulp down the massive knot that had now settled in her throat.

A tear managed to escape one of her eyes and she looked away from him, her hand falling to her lap. Astonished, because it was so rare for Ginny to be like this, and in fact a first, Harry stared at her, hearing her trying to take deep breaths.

‘Ginny, look at me,’ he said in a soft, pleading tone, but she didn’t bulge. ‘Ginny,’ Harry put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Please.’

Reluctantly, Ginny turned around and faced him. She was crying in silence, looking completely heartbroken.

‘How could you?’ she muttered. ‘After all we’ve been through, you tell me that you love me but you were just going to leave me without a second glance…’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Really,’ Harry said firmly. ‘Ginny, I had just found out I had to die for him to die, for anyone to have any hope. I felt like Dumbledore had betrayed me, I felt like I’d been raised like cattle to be allowed to hope for my life, for us, for our future… only to be sent to slaughter. And the only reason why I did it was because I didn’t want anybody else to die for me any more, I understood it was my turn, I understood if I died then Ron, Hermione and Neville would still know to kill Nagini and then anybody could kill Voldemort and he would be as mortal as any of us. And if they succeeded… then it was worth everything, because then my best friends, my only family left, would be able to live. And Teddy would know a world free of Voldemort, and everyone who died that night would’ve died for a reason, and you… you’d be safe. That’s how much I love you. And when I sacrificed myself, I did just like my Mum did, and no spells could touch you afterwards, so even if I had died, that would have happened and you would’ve been safe, and that would’ve been worth it all to me. You’re all the family I know, you can’t blame me for doing whatever it takes to protect you.’

Ginny sniffled, furiously rubbing her eyes, as if getting upset pissed her off.

‘Then why not say goodbye? Why not bother to explain to me… to help me?’ she sounded so heartbroken, her tears falling freely, that it really affected Harry, who found himself with his own eyes filling with tears, and his nose getting congested.

‘Because one word from you and I wouldn’t have been able to do it. So I put on my Invisibility Cloak, and I walked past you when you were with that girl who was injured.’

‘You were…?’ Ginny nodded slowly. ‘I see. She died.’

‘Sorry to hear. But I remember what you were telling her. She wanted to go home and I thought I did too… I wanted to go with you. And then I realised that I was home. At Hogwarts, with everyone I could call family… and I ought to do what it took for all of you. I sacrificed like my mother and therefore after that Voldemort and his Death Eaters couldn’t touch any of you, didn’t you notice? You were all safe, moderately at least. Ginny,’ Harry took her hands in his, both of them, and looked into her eyes, ‘goodbye is the one thing I never, ever want to say to you. So forgive me, but I regret nothing.’

With a deep breath, Ginny nodded.

‘Hold me?’ she asked, so Harry stretched his arms and welcomed her into them, sitting her sideways on his lap so he could wrap himself around her, kissing any bits of her he could reach and caressing her hair.

‘I’m sorry I upset you.’

‘No… I think I’m just oversensitive because of Fred… I don’t normally cry…’

‘I think is a good practise to cry,’ said Harry, kissing her forehead before pressing his against hers and staring into her eyes. ‘They always say better out than in, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Ginny smiled small. ‘Sorry I...’

‘It’s okay. I love you.’

‘I love you too. I’m going to miss you while I go to Hogwarts. I think I might just do one year, though. I think I want to be a Quidditch player, I don’t need N.E.W.Ts for that.’

‘Do you?’ Harry grinned proudly. ‘You’d be brilliant.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Yes. And I can’t wait to shout your name from the stands. I’ll lose my voice and I won’t even care. I’ll do like Ron and dress myself to the toes in your colours.’

Amused by the idea, Ginny giggled, rubbing the drying tears off her face, and Harry grinned bigger, loving the sound of her laugh, cradling her in his arms.

‘I would love that.’

Her lips met his with passion, their tongues brushing gently as their hands flew to grasp onto the other, while their mouths started a well-practised dance. This time however, the kiss became more heated and passionate than they had ever before allowed it to be, and Ginny pushed him to lie on his back, somehow removing his glasses and stretching over him, lying on top of the other while they made out insistently.

It was like heaven. Harry could feel the soft grass beneath him, the warm of the sunlight against them both, a hand tangled in her fiery locks and the other gentle on the low of her back, his thumb slightly beneath her shirt caressing her soft bare skin, and both her hands were on his face, her nails scratching gently over his grown beard, that tickled her mouth as she kissed him with desire. Her small breasts were pressed against his chest, and her legs stretched between his, so that their groins pressed together, although clothed.

Harry had never had a sex life. He had never even had an erection, as far as he could think of. He’d certainly never touched himself, mainly because when he’d started to think about women sexually he was already fourteen and in school, sharing a bedroom with four other boys and rarely having any sort of privacy. And he had always been so stressed and anguished, between the people dying around him, homework, exams, the Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort trying to kill him and all that, that he’d never really felt like jerking off, not during his fourth year, not the summer he’d been dealing with Cedric’s death, not in his fifth year with Umbridge after his neck, and most certainly not in the summer in which he’d been so depressed after Sirius’s death he couldn’t have gotten it up even if he had wanted to. And then after that it had all been the most stressing, anxious, worrisome and anguished years of his life, in which he had only felt like jerking off, precisely thinking of Ginny, a couple times behind the curtains of his bed, but Ron liked to have a chat before falling asleep and the idea of him being in the bed next while he thought about his sister, let alone of talking while he did his thing, had been a complete turn off.

And he absolutely wasn’t going to even think of it during the long months of intense fear, anguish and stress in the tent, with no sort of privacy. He’d simply had other things to worry about, been too busy to even think of sexual activity… and as much as he had since occasionally wondered how far Ginny and Dean had gone, he kept reminding himself that at the time, Ginny had been only fifteen, and surely she wouldn’t .

But the abstinence meant that now Harry was surprisingly quick trigger, and suddenly he felt something move under his underwear and felt a blood rush to his groin, that was then quite warm. Ginny’s groin had been quite pressed against, so she absolutely felt it and, as Harry’s eyes widened in realization of what had just happened. Ginny’s lips separated from his and she raised her eyebrows and gave him a playful look, smirking.

‘Harry James Potter,’ she said in a falsely stern tone.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Harry was scarlet, and his face felt so hot he had no idea how he had blood left to go down there. Ginny’s ears had also turned red, but she wasn’t moving off him. ‘I’m so, so, so sorry, I just— I’ve never had one of those before, I didn’t realise it was about to happen.’

‘You’re almost eighteen,’ Ginny said with a laugh. ‘It’s okay to admit if you’ve been jerking off Harry, we’re all grown-ups…’

‘I’m serious, I’d admit it otherwise,’ said Harry, and she realised he meant it.

‘Really?’ she asked, astonished.

‘I had other things to worry about. Shit Ginny, I’m sorry, this doesn’t mean… I don’t want you to do anything about it, it’s fine. I’ll just… I’ll cast a disillusionment charm and then I should be able to sneak back into the house and have a cold shower, that’ll fix it, right?’

‘I suppose but… will you be able to make it with that all the way down the hill?’ she hadn’t yet stopped pressing herself against him. ‘It’s got to be uncomfortable.’

‘I will have to,’ Harry put his glasses back on. ‘I need you to move Ginny, you’re driving me insane.’

‘Oh, sorry. Like this?’ Ginny, who was feeling quite excited and daring knowing he was hot for her, rolled her hips to press harder against him, and he emitted a sound similar to a puppy’s cry.

‘Ginny! What are you—?’

‘Let’s have some fun. Cast that charm,’ Ginny whispered into his ear, dragging a hand under his t-shirt and stroking his bare belly, making his length twitch. Harry was now sure he was wetting his underwear. ‘If you’ve never done anything it’ll just take five seconds. Come on Harry…’

Harry couldn’t think, so he decided to go for it, whatever her plan was, and he grabbed his wand from his trousers, waving a disillusionment charm around them. No sooner had he done it, Ginny kissed him again, snogging him more passionately and fiercely than ever before, his moans drowning into her mouth as she pressed repeatedly against him, her hand rubbing his torso beneath his t-shirt, over his erect nipples, and then it unexpectedly sneaked below his waistline, but above his underwear, so she could feel his warm, wet bulge, and as if sensing how insane he was going, how he was struggling to even breathe, Ginny’s mouth moved to his neck and she timed a gentle bite there with a tender squeeze of his manhood over his underwear. As she had predicted, it was a mere matter of seconds, as that final act was enough for him to cry out as he released inside his underwear.

With a final kiss, Ginny moved away from him.

‘Take your time to calm down and clean yourself with your wand,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll be on the lookout in case someone comes.’

Harry lied there, recovering his breath, his chest heaving, his underwear ruined, and swear dripping over his red face, his eyes wide and dark, dilated pupils, and fixed on the clouds.

This girl was going to be the death of him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: First steps.

In the next couple of days, Harry and Ginny didn’t mention a word about what they had done, and Harry didn’t tell a soul, hoping that Ginny wouldn’t tell Hermione either. It was the downside of dating your best friend’s sister, that you couldn’t talk with him about the stuff you were doing, but in any case there weren’t many opportunities to get intimate after that. Hermione, who had stayed with them for two days following George’s funeral, was now back in Australia and daily writing to them, which meant Ron hardly left the house in case an owl would arrive, and since they still didn’t have the thumb’s up to go out into the world, they spent a lot of time home, helping out and trying to cheer each other up and move on. It wasn’t a bad thing, when you lived in a place as beautiful as the Weasleys’ territory.

Between cleaning around, taking turns with domestic tasks, expelling gnomes, caring for the vegetable garden, trimming the grass, and regularly cleaning and leaving flowers in Fred’s grave, Harry, Ron and Ginny, who was still a minor and therefore unable to do magic outside of Hogwarts, were kept fairly busy. They were slowly managing to sleep better, discovering that it was easier once they were properly exhausted, so they weren’t in a too low mood, and would spend their free time playing Quidditch once again, Chess, Gobstones, or walking around exploring the hills and the countryside. Only once, before Hermione returned to Australia, had they all ventured into Diagon Alley, that was slowly getting back to normal, to get Sleeping Draught in large amounts, but with Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes still closed, as well as Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour —poor Florean had been murdered— and most of the fun places, it didn’t make much sense to go there anyway.

As for the rest of the Weasleys, Mr Weasley spent large amounts of time at the Ministry for work, as Kingsley had named him the head of a new office, the Office Against the Misuse and Trafficking of Muggle and Magical Artefacts in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which tackled the trafficking of Muggle and magical objects, their misuse by wizards, and the improper use of magic on them, all of which were offences punishable by law; Mrs Weasley was usually taking care of the house and visiting Andromeda Tonks and Teddy with Harry, or inviting them over; Bill and Fleur both worked for Gringotts and came to visit for dinner; Charlie was so far helping around the house and catching up with friends, but most especially taking care of George, as his job was in Romania; Percy returned to the Ministry, working as the Head of the Magical Transport’s Regulations’ Office in the Department of Magical Transportation, making, reviewing and regulating the laws and rules for the use of Portkeys, brooms, or Floo powder, between others, and having decided against becoming anything more ambitious than that, as he had determined that he could not handle high amounts of power; and George spent most of his time back in his and Fred’s old bedroom at The Burrow now, doing Merlin knew what, or visiting Fred, or sometimes, he’d be convinced to go with Angelina and Lee, who visited him every day. Everyone else always tried to cheer him up, but it was quite a difficult task. He wasn’t moping around either, but he was very serious and quiet.

One night, they were all home and Kingsley, Andromeda and Teddy had been invited over for dinner, when Kingsley asked if he could talk privately with Harry after dinner. So once it concluded, Harry led Kingsley to Bill and Charlie’s old bedroom. His bed was made, and his few possessions —he was yet to retrieve all he’d left at Private Drive— were organised around the room.

‘You can take the chair,’ Harry motioned towards the desk chair, and he sat on the bed. Kingsley rolled the chair to the bed and sat on it.

‘So, Harry, I’ve been speaking with Professor McGonagall a lot. Dumbledore has explained a lot to her, you explained other bits… we still don’t quite know much of what happened these past months, how you found those Horcruxes and all.’

‘It’s not really important,’ said Harry. ‘The main thing is that you know when we broke into Gringotts, and all those illegal things we did… they were all absolutely essential to find all the Horcruxes.’

‘Which is why none of you will be facing criminal charges,’ said Kingsley, smiling warmly at him. ‘I suppose some things stay between you, Ron and Hermione, correct?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, we have cleaned Professor Snape’s name, it’ll be announced on an article in the front page of The Daily Prophet tomorrow morning. We’ll tell the world that Professor Snape always worked loyal to Professor Dumbledore and was an integral part of the Order of the Phoenix until the very end, and that Professor Dumbledore was already dying and asked Snape to kill him to make Voldemort trust him more, that all Snape did was always within the job in the Order, and that it was essential for him to sometimes do bad stuff to keep his cover intact and continue to spy for us, but that as a Headmaster he stopped the Carrows from truly harming students in bigger ways than he did, and that he was murdered when his cover was blown during the battle. Might not be entirely true but… it’s all the world needs to know, don’t you think?’ Harry nodded in agreement.

‘Thank you, Kingsley.’

‘I also want you to know the Dursleys have been recovering fine and are now entirely back in their past lives, they’re telling their loved ones they were in the Muggles’ witness protection programme, therefore they’ve been allowed to return to work and studies. I believe your cousin will be finishing his mandatory education this upcoming year.’

‘Good for him.’

‘Hermione is also doing well. Her parents have recovered very well, and they’re currently enjoying quite the lovely holidays. I’ve got people there working in the shadows to make sure they do.’

‘Thank you. That’s very nice.’

‘I have buried with the Fallen of Hogwarts who had no loved ones left and were buried there, their Orders of Merlin, First Class. Professor McGonagall has also organised for every fighter in our side to receive a Medal for Services to the School, she’s sending them in owls, and she will put a monument within the Grounds with the names of all who fought, and all who died. On the other hand, I want to organise a ceremony for next month, to give the Orders of Merlin First Class to the rest of the Order and Dumbledore’s Army. Will sent letters to everyone and I wanted to be sure you’re okay with receiving one.’

‘So long as everyone else is, then yes,’ said Harry.

‘Of course. I don’t know if you’re aware, but the O.M. aren’t the magical equivalent to knighthoods. We don’t have one, actually, nor do we recognise the Muggles’ Queen. I suppose we’re a bit of a republic inside a kingdom,’ said Kingsley thoughtfully. ‘Still, I thought that we ought to come up with something meaningful, especially after I spoke with Dumbledore’s portrait. He agreed with me that what you, Ron and Hermione have done is unlike anything anyone has ever done, and should receive a especial kind of recognition, after all, you were kids doing all this. I think you especially—,’

‘Whatever you give Ron and Hermione, you can give me. Nothing more,’ said Harry. ‘I wouldn’t be alive without them. I’m not better than them.’

‘That honours you, Harry.’

‘And we don’t even care about decorations, Kingsley,’ well, he figured Ron did, a little. But still.

‘I know. But I want to send a message, giving this to a Muggleborn, a boy whose family have been belittled over the years for their poverty and their friendship with Muggles, and you, public enemy number one for the past year. I want to compensate you in some way, to give you something that you can look to and feel like your world is thankful for what you’ve done, that we value and appreciate your sacrifices greatly, I think the general opinion is everyone want to celebrate you, the three of you, once The Daily Prophet announces what you’ve done,’ said Kingsley. ‘And I want to show our community that this is the kind of good example they should aspire to, that even a seventeen year old can change the world, that the rulers aren’t always right and is up to each of us to get up every day and decide what’s right and fight for it, even if it’s dangerous or scary. I want to help build a better community, improve our world, and for that people need to see good people get celebrated, bad people get punished. I’m aware they are working on Chocolate Frog Cards for you already, and that’s an initiative from The Jumping Frog company of sweets, they make those, independent from us. The public wanted it.’

Harry was speechless, but nodded and took a deep breath.

‘Ron and Hermione deserve any honours you can give them and more, and they wouldn’t accept them if I refused, so I won’t,’ said Harry. ‘But truly, what matters the most to us is that the world becomes a safer place, that the Muggles and the Muggleborns are treated fairly and humanly, and that all those families that were broken receive compensation, they ought to be repaid, many of them have been decimated. How will you repair that?’

‘I can’t. But I will make sure the people responsible are caught and severely punished, we no longer have dementors but people like Dolores Umbridge will spend life in Azkaban, that’s being remodelled to make it safer, isolate the prisoners more from each other, make the experience even worse for them, and have areas that are much nicer for prisoners of small crimes who will spend little time there, with the areas getting worse the worse your crime is,’ Kingsley explained. ‘I’ve already recruited a hundred new guards from all over, they’re receiving intensive training over the summer, now there aren’t dementors, there are far happier going and is extremely well paid.’

‘But that won’t console the families much. Their children…’

‘Every child of someone who was killed during the Voldemort government for being related to Muggles will receive free education at Hogwarts paid by the Ministry, and every family affected will receive free housing for life. All top quality, nothing cheap,’ said Kingsley, serious.

‘That’s better.’

‘I’m happy to accept any suggestions. After all, from someone like you I can only learn,’ Harry felt quite flattered by this, and nodded. ‘So… what I was saying is, I’ve come up with a bigger title for you, Hermione and Ron. Something only you will ever be awarded, something to remind history of that the three greatest people of our world were a Muggleborn, a Half-Blood, and a Weasley. That should shut up some nasty Purebloods, don’t you think?’

Harry thought of Malfoy’s descendants, having to study that at Hogwarts, and snorted a laugh.

‘Probably, yes. So what’s the plan? Are we going to be given lands and aristocratic titles?’ said Harry jokingly, so they both shared a laugh.

‘First I want to know more about Hermione and Ron’s part in all this, if you would be so kind to share that. Just to have an idea to make sure my decisions are the right decisions and I don’t need to change my mind.’

‘Their part? Well, I could go on forever. I wouldn’t have survived a single year at Hogwarts without them,’ said Harry. ‘But in regards to the last nine months exclusively… Hermione was the brains. Coming up with the idea of the tent, breaking the law to put an undetectable extension charm on a purse thing for us to carry anything we needed, packing it without Ron and I’s knowledge with all sorts of useful stuff including our clothes, repeatedly saving our lives, cooking for us, being our personal healer, keeping us alive and moderately strong… Dumbledore gave her the most difficult smart person clues, such as the original Tales of Beedle the Bard in runes which Hermione translated, and from which she got important clues Dumbledore had left only for her to find. She solved most of the riddles, she was relentless and fierce… she was fantastic.’

‘Outstanding.’

Harry spent some time telling Kingsley about each Horcrux and how and who had destroyed them, how they’d been found, what they’d had to do to find them, and he made sure to especially underline Ron and Hermione’s roles, how big they’d been and how remarkable. He was still telling Kingsley about Ron’s heroism and bravery turning back and helping him rescue Malfoy and Goyle from the Fiendfyre when Kingsley stopped him, smiling and raising a hand.

‘All right, all right, I’ve got it. The three of you will be given the Most Noble Order of Dumbledore, something I created inspired by King Arthur and Merlin the Wizard’s tales, where they had a round table with Sirs. It is therefore a new decoration that grants you the titles of Sir and Lady, much like knighthoods, that is superior to all other awards and decorations in the Magical Britain, and that will be given for extreme merit, bravery, dedication, and resilience against Voldemort, and for being the ones that made the ultimate sacrifices and truly killed Lord Voldemort. It will also be posthumously granted to Dumbledore and Snape.’

‘You have to give it to one more person though,’ said Harry. ‘Neville Longbottom. He killed Nagini, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to kill Voldemort, I am tired of him being mocked—,’

‘All right. Four Most Noble Orders of Dumbledore, unique editions.’

Harry didn’t care about any titles like that, he really didn’t, and he was sure that none of his friends would care particularly about them. Even Ron would happily exchange being Sir Ronald Weasley with having his brother Fred back to life. But all things considered, if he was to ever receive any titles or awards… he wanted to be in the same level as Hermione, Neville and Ron, all of whom had fought about as hard as him, lost tremendously to battle too, and gone through hell and back to destroy Voldemort. He didn’t want to be more than them in the eyes of anyone except, perhaps, Ginny’s.

‘Now,’ said Kingsley with the air of a new line of thought, ‘Professor McGonagall says you’re not sure about coming back next year.’

‘I’ve actually cleared my mind since last speaking with her. I won’t be coming back. For sure.’

‘Any plans, Harry?’

He shook his head, dubious.

‘I’m quite lost if I’m honest,’ said Harry. ‘Ginny says I should learn to have dreams, things like bucket lists, things I’d want to do like, travelling the world or bungee-jumping or something. Things I have never even considered doing because killing Voldemort or surviving the year were always the priorities.’

‘She’s a smart girl. You’re seventeen, Harry, most boys your age have had a lot of life experience by now in things completely unrelated to battle,’ said Kingsley with a soft tone of voice, reminding Harry of the wise and calm way in which Dumbledore used to speak. ‘They’ve done things like skiing in the Alps in the winter holidays, spending summers in Spain, learnt to bake, had half a dozen girlfriends, taken up a hobby like a musical instrument or gardening or… something else. Some really like the gym.’

‘There are gyms in the magical world?’

‘Sure. Not too different from the Muggle ones as a matter of fact, you’ll find one at the very end of Diagon Alley, for example. And there are also many other magical alleys hidden all across London if you know where to look, with all sorts of interesting things. Diagon is just the most popular. Here,’ Kingsley patted his pockets and then pulled out a folded paper sheet, which he handed Harry. ‘That’s a list with all of the ones in Greater London and where the entrances are, I always like to have one handy, just in case I forget some entrance… anyway, the Ministry has plenty of these, and also of any other place in the country. We review them every six months, just in case the Muggles have built something too close or put cameras.’

Harry unfolded the paper and read it with interest. Almost every district of London had a secret entrance to a magical hidden alley or group of alleys, all of them protected with some sort of magical entrance hidden away from plain sight and Muggle CCTV footage.

‘Cool!’ said Harry. ‘Then maybe I should, I don’t know… find a hobby.’

‘You could also put your things in order,’ said Kingsley. ‘You have 12 Grimmauld Place, you might want to turn it into a home?’

‘I don’t want 12 Grimmauld Place,’ said Harry, ‘and I don’t think it’s safe any more. We accidentally led Yaxley into it, and he probably registered with other Death Eaters, and not all of them have been captured yet, have they? So the Fidelio Charm is worthless now.’

‘We have about twelve Death Eaters not accounted for, presumably on the run, yes. None of them are any of the worst ones, but still… we’re after them. Well, if it’s not safe any more…’ Kingsley looked thoughtful. ‘The Ministry could buy it back from you, it’s what we do with magical houses when they’re no longer going to be used, they get remodelled by us to remove any charms, spells and personal details, and make sure there’s nothing dangerous left, and then they either get resold to another magical family for the same money with which they were bought, as to keep the Ministry’s vaults the way they were, or they get converted into Muggle houses and sold to the Muggles, if no magical family is interested.’

‘That sounds good. I’m going to need about a month, though,’ said Harry. ‘I’ll have to convince Kreacher to vacate it which, considering Walburga’s portrait is permanently fixed to the wall, might be difficult, and we’ll have to take away all the Blacks’ things so Kreacher doesn’t have a heart attack. We’ve been getting along really well and I don’t want to ruin things.’

‘That’s great, tell Kreacher we will try to remove the painting. As soon as you’ve sold it I’ll have Ministry maintenance employees take a look so Kreacher can have the portrait, there surely has to be a way, and maintenance employees are the very best at these things.’

‘Thank you, Kingsley.’

‘What about work?’ asked Kingsley. ‘I know you don’t need to worry about money, but perhaps an occupation would help you out, mentally, I mean. It’s always good to have a strong reason to get up in the mornings after such traumatic events as war.’

‘The only job I would ever consider,’ said Harry, ‘and I looked at all the pamphlets in my O.W.L. year, would be becoming an Auror. But I have no N.E.W.T. no intention to get them, and I’m pretty sure I might not even have all the best O.W.L.s.’

‘That doesn’t matter. Professor McGonagall showed me your grades, as a matter of fact. I was curious as to whether I might be able to recruit you, you know I was an Auror before Minister, so I know about what it is like,’ said Kingsley, ‘and unfortunately Harry, we have lost so many Aurors in the last ten years, and haven’t taken any new ones in the last five. So things have changed a bit, we just urgently need Aurors, Hit Wizards, security guards… the more the merrier.’

‘You want to recruit me?’ asked Harry very surprised, his eyebrows shooting upwards to his hairline.

‘Yes.’

‘But I’m seventeen, without having finished my education…’

‘You see Harry, in British history we’ve only had two really dark wizards, two really dark periods of our history, and they all happened in the last seventy years, which means that the majority of us don’t know a time in which we haven’t been at war, even if it was a silent war like when people thought Voldemort had fallen,’ Kingsley explained. ‘We had Grindelwald for twenty-five years no less, and he created world-wide level of havoc, misery and death. And we’ve had twenty-eight years of Voldemort, between which we only had twenty-five years of peace. Do you have an idea of how collectively traumatised and damaged the magical community is internationally? Or here? How many people were repeatedly hit by both dark wizards, had families and groups of friends decimated, lost everything they had over and over and just when they were starting to get back on their feet they had a new massive blow? Look at Andromeda Tonks. She was hit once, having to leave her family behind to marry Ted, and once she had everything, her family, a new son, a grandson on the way… she lost everything. She only has Teddy left.’

‘I know,’ Harry nodded.

‘Her situation replicates in hundreds. Now I’ve got dozens of orphaned Hogwarts students, McGonagall trying to find a way to support them as a family… this is the time we try to recover from seventy years of trauma and suffering, particularly from the years of Voldemort that mainly concentrated in terrorising Britain more than Grindelwald ever did, and as a Minister, I have to make massive changes to be able to reassure our population that the next hundred, two hundred years will be peaceful. That we won’t have something else like this happen so suddenly.’

‘But how can you do that? You cannot guarantee—,’

‘Exactly,’ said Kingsley very seriously. ‘But if I make major systemic changes, something that separates my government from all the others, such as effectively severing the privileges, tolerance and concessions the Mugglephobics have enjoyed so far, with high-ranked positions, decorations and Orders of Merlin and loads of money and power, and take them out of this equation to build a more tolerant world, if I improve our security system and if I recruit the help of people like you, Ron and Hermione, who have become symbols of fight, peace, endurance and courage, people our community likes and believes in, then, they might be able to have some hope, to recover some sense of joy, to be enthusiastic again.’

Harry listened intently, and then suddenly frowned. This was beginning to sound like Scrimgeour.

‘You want to use us like Scrimgeour did. Support what the Ministry does publicly so that people—,’

‘No. I want you in the Ministry pushing the changes you want in the right direction, showing the Ministry how it’s done, I want you to like me, join the system so that we can change it from the inside, Harry. You who have the purest hearts and best intentions I’ve known, you who cannot be corrupted, you who don’t care about decorations, money and power, you who are so drastically different from the Blacks, the Lestranges, the Malfoys… you are the ones who should lead our community. The youth coming up and showing us older folks how it’s done, because if in seventy years things haven’t been done right… then us who were there for a part of that if not all, cannot be trusted to do the whole work. You’re fresh blood. You’ll do things differently and hopefully, better.’

‘If it is about us three, then why are you talking with me?’

‘I’ll talk with everyone in turn. With you, with Hermione, with Ron, with that Neville, with anyone you can recommend. Give me names and I’ll reach out to them, if you want,’ said Kingsley. ‘Anyone you trust, I will trust. Anyone you think might be a positive impact, I will think so too. And you guys have great ideas, Harry, I spoke about the same thing with McGonagall. Hermione wanting to do that SPEW thing and give a better life and rights to the house-elves, Ron who’ll stand up to anyone who hasn’t earned respect no matter who they are, Neville being such a leader and professor for children, a girl called Luna—,’

‘Luna Lovegood.’

‘Yes, she’s such an advocate for creatures and a gentle, incorruptible soul, or Ginny Weasley who I’ve been told is fierce and tough as knives. Or you, who do the right thing no matter how hard it is or what it takes. You are leaders of change, and I am particularly looking at you four, Neville, Hermione, Ron and you, because you actually took leadership roles and for what you said, were the flame that started everything with Dumbledore’s guidance, have done most of the work in the past nine years, Neville at Hogwarts, you three outside in the shadows.’

‘I can’t speak for anyone else,’ said Harry. ‘But… I don’t want to have to trust someone else not to wreck everything I have given my all for, Kingsley. I can’t do that. I can’t be shoved to the backseat again, like the Order did years ago, told to not ask questions, told the information is too confidential to share with me, be kept in the dark over and over when things are going on and see others let the bad guys go. I need to be in charge. I need to be given the capacity to do something about it, to finish what I started because the battle isn’t over, not for me, not if there are still people out there endangering us all, Death Eaters mainly. I don’t trust the Ministry, even with you in it, I don’t. Not unless I’m part of the process from the inside. What you said about changing things from the inside… I want that. Not to be a PR instrument.’

‘That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear,’ Kingsley curved his lips, pleased. ‘Join the Aurors, Harry. Come work with us, Merlin knows we’re in great need of good ones like you there. Show them how it’s done, show them what you know.’

‘But what about what I don’t know? I suck at Potions, I’m not that awesome in Transfigurations, I don’t have a license to apparate even though I can do it…’

‘If you can do it then I’ll issue you a license, won’t be a problem.’

‘Ron will also need one.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Kingsley with a nod. ‘As for the rest… instead of passing the difficult tests and evaluations that we had, my idea with the Aurors coming in now, because we need them so urgently there’s no time to wait, is that they’ll begin working as trainees, so long as like you, Neville, Ron or Hermione have already shown great aptitude and general magical skill, others won’t be so lucky. We’ll first do an assessment to see what they’re brilliant at and what they need further education and training in, and you’ll be placed as the sidekick of a more experienced Auror who’s brilliant at the things you suck in, to teach you, train you and prepare you. And you will be put into tasks you’re brilliant at, like, in your case, combat situations, street work, patrolling… not making potions, not until you’re ready. Then, after three months, you’ll face aptitude tests and evaluations of lesser difficulty than the traditional ones, and if you pass, you’re all in. Someone like you shouldn’t have a problem with it. It’ll be three months of really intense and difficult work, yes, nights, mornings, weekends… yes, I won’t deny it. But if it’s what you really want…’

‘It is.’

‘Perfect.’

Kingsley got up, so Harry imitated him, and they shook hands in agreement.

‘I want to just be Kingsley to you, Harry. So feel free to tell me the truth, always, plain and simple, even when it is to criticise me, and count on me, all right?’

‘Right. Thanks,’ Harry nodded. And before Kingsley could leave the room, he remembered something. ‘Wait, uh… do I have to start the Auror thing right now?’

‘Absolutely not. Whenever you’re ready.’

‘Because I was thinking…’ Harry shrugged thoughtfully. ‘I’m dating Ginny now…’

‘I see…’ Kingsley smirked.

‘And I think I’ve been a bit of a crap boyfriend, I sort of had only been with her for a few weeks when Dumbledore died and I left her and went on with the Horcruxes and… I feel she deserves a compensation, and maybe some fresh air to deal with Fred’s thing… she’s barely seen the world, I’ve never left England, she knows how to make dreams and develop hobbies, I don’t… so I thought of taking her around the world, to travel, to see things together, get normal life experiences and grieve and cope with all this together before she goes to Hogwarts and I start training and we barely see each other any more.’

Kingsley grinned and nodded at him.

‘I think that’s a brilliant idea, Harry. Write to me when you’re ready. Now I need to speak with Ron.’

Harry nodded and let Kingsley go. Now he had to think of a way to convince Arthur and Molly to let Ginny go with him, because she wouldn’t be an adult until August, by which time, they would have very little time left to travel before she had to be back for Hogwarts.

He decided to start with Ginny, so while Kingsley and Ron talked upstairs, he found her in her bedroom. He knocked and cracked the door open just to facilitate his voice carrying in.

‘May I?

‘Yes.’

His young girlfriend was seemingly cleaning her bookshelf, piling books to donate and making more space for new ones. She smiled warmly at her, her long red hair in a messy bun, her face covered in freckles.

‘What did Kingsley want?’

‘Nothing, just checking up on me… we’ll get into that. Listen, so…’ Harry closed the door and looked nervously at her. ‘I want to take you to travel the world with me for two months.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘Let’s choose some countries and I’ll cover all the costs and we’ll just… we’ll travel. We’ll go from one to another, have some nice, happy adventures together. Make new, better memories, distance ourselves a little from all this… pain and misery. I thought we could leave the first of June, be back by the end of July for my birthday, because I want to celebrate Ron and Hermione’s eighteenth birthdays with mine, since we were on the run and didn’t do it. That would give us a few weeks to do all the planning and sixty days of adventure and happy things, exciting things. Besides, you’re much better at this dreaming of things thing than I am, so come with me. Teach me how to live.’

Ginny looked baffled at him, dropping the books she was holding on the bed and standing to face her, while the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team smiling at them from a poster behind her.

‘Harry, that sounds fascinating and wonderful, and something you should definitely do but… I’m sixteen. My parents are never going to let me do that, not with Dark Eaters still out there, and besides, how am I going to leave? George’s a mess, my Mum…’

‘I know, I know,’ Harry walked to her and put gentle hands on her shoulders. ‘Leave convincing your parents up to me. They’ll trust me, they know I’ll go above and beyond to keep you safe and happy. I’ll even promise on paper to have you sleep in a different room from mine for the whole trip if that’s the kind of thing that worries them,’ he half smiled, and she snorted a laugh, shaking her head. ‘And I know everyone’s hurting and I too feel a bit bad leaving but… if we’re not all right, then how are we going to help? I barely sleep at night, you walk around like you’re all chirpy and strong but come on, we both know you weren’t just crying about me leaving without saying goodbye the other day, were you?’

‘I suppose.’

‘It’s not a sixteen-year-old girl’s job to take care of her entire family, Ginny. And perhaps with you being away, your Mum won’t feel such a strong need to be tough for everyone like you do, who knows, maybe I can convince your Dad to take your Mum and George to see Romania with Charlie for a few weeks or something. And by the time we leave Hermione will be back in London, so Ron can probably visit her, he won’t be lonely. And everyone else is around, it’ll be just us gone. There’s Bill, Fleur, everyone else.’

‘What about Teddy?’

‘He’s one month old, all he does is poo, cry, sleep and eat, he will hardly notice his godfather’s absent two months.’

‘No, I mean you’re supposed to be helping Andromeda with Teddy.’

‘I will leave money and write every day and the moment she needs anything I’ll be back in a heartbeat, I’m a wizard, we can be back in seconds if we’re really needed, can’t we? Come back, handle the drama, leave… it’ll be a few hours of derailing, that’s all. And I’m sure she’ll understand I need a break before returning to be the best godfather ever.’

‘Okay… but only if Andromeda and my parents approve. I’m not leaving if one of them doesn’t like it,’ said Ginny seriously, and Harry smiled broadly, his heart warmed by her caring nature.

‘Sounds phenomenal,’ he kissed her. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too. Now go, you’re too much of a distraction and if we’re leaving I need to leave this room organised and clean.’ She playfully swatted his arse and he sniggered, leaving her bedroom, feeling the happiest he’d felt in days, with something truly good to look forward to.

While Ron was still busy with Kingsley, Harry asked Mrs Weasley if they had a map of the world, or a world globe he could use, and he was handled an old, battered world globe with the names slightly faded, but still good to use. Back in his bedroom, Harry pulled out parchment, quill and ink and began spinning the globe and writing down countries that called his attention, cities he’d heard things of that made him want to visit, remembering his geography lessons from his Muggle school days. He would, of course, also have Ginny do the same thing, put her input in the trip, but so far this was an entertaining task to start with. As he did so, something magical happened. Harry found himself feeling excited, giddy in fact, smiling as he slapped the ball to spin and dropped his finger randomly on a country, imagining the adventures they could have that, his chest filling up with all the affection he held for Ginny and the excitement about spending so much time just the two of them alone. He knew Ron would be okay with Hermione, that they would be giddy with excitement and love just like him all summer, writing to each other, visiting each other often and stealing hours under the sun, just the two of them, walking around Muggle London, so Harry didn’t feel bad for leaving his best friends out of the trip. This was something he knew they’d understand that he needed to do on his own… and bringing Ginny would only make everything better for himself and for her. After all, Harry had been alone most of his life, he didn’t miss it one bit.

Before going to sleep that night, after Ron had told him how Kingsley had pretty much told him the same things as he’d told Harry, and also offered an Auror position, Harry took from his trunk, which he’d left there the previous summer, the photo album Hagrid had gifted him for his eleventh birthday. He found a photograph from his parents’ wedding, with Sirius next to his smitten parents, and he traced it with his finger.

‘I’m going to see the world you died to give me.’

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Duties and responsibilities.

The next day, Harry had an overdue trip to Grimmauld Place to do. He went alone, and kept his wand out as he entered the dark long entrance corridor and faced the Order’s defence charms and spells, and Walburga Black’s screaming portrait. At last, Harry reached the large, basement kitchen, that was cleaner than ever, and smelled wonderfully. Kreacher had evidently been caring to turn the house into a home, which made Harry feel a bit worse about having him be forced to leave the house.

Upon seeing him, Kreacher was so enthusiastic that Harry could hardly utter a world as he was made to sit down and enjoy the most massive of English breakfasts, even when he’d already eaten at The Burrow before leaving that morning. He couldn’t get another word out, as Kreacher rambled on about how nice Mr Potter was, and how much Kreacher had been doing to turn Mr Potter’s home around, until he’d finally finished eating and drinking pumpkin juice, and he’d managed to convince Kreacher to join him, so that his mouth would be busy elsewhere.

‘Kreacher, I can’t express how thankful I am for all you’ve done, your marvellous job with this house has really changed it for the better, it looks fantastic, for what I have seen—,’

Kreacher almost choked as he urged to answer while still munching.

‘Kreacher is happy to do anything for Master Harry Potter, Sir, Kreacher is pleased to welcome Master Harry home—,’

‘Just enjoy your food, Kreacher, I want to tell you something,’ said Harry with a warm smile, and Kreacher went back to his plate. ‘I want you to know that I really value your very hard work, and that… I wish we could stay here. But we cannot.’

That got Kreacher to actually choke so, once he’d stopped coughing, Harry had patted his back enough times, and he’d recovered from the shock, Kreacher looked at Harry in shock with his ancient eyes filled with horror.

‘But, but, but Master Harry! This is Kreacher’s home! Mistress Walburga—,’

‘I know. You were born here, your mother was born here, your grandparents were born here… I understand. This house is your legacy, the Blacks were your family… but Kreacher,’ said Harry, ‘we’re starting a new book together. When I have a family for you to work for, you won’t be working for people like the Blacks with their blood purity and their adoration for Voldemort. You’ll be working for a family and a home were Muggles and Muggle-borns are welcomed and treated like family, you’ll be in a house of people who have devoted their lives to destroy Voldemort, you’ll be obeying me and my partner, who’s a Weasley, and you’ll be expected to treat everyone this kindly as you treat me. I assume that’s something you’ve come to want?’

‘Master Harry avenged Master Regulus. Master Harry finished what Master Regulus started. Master Harry treats Kreacher very well,’ said Kreacher thoughtfully, as if he was evaluating his chances. ‘So Master Kreacher wants to serve Master Harry’s family like he served Mistress Walburga’s.’

‘Do you want that more than living here alone? Do you want that more than being a free elf with total freedom to do whatever you please, whenever you please, work at Hogwarts, or anything else? Because those are all options I can give you too. Whatever you want.’

‘Master Harry’s giving Kreacher… a choice?’

‘Yes,’ Harry nodded. ‘If you work for me, that’s because you want to, and it ends the day you want it to end, Kreacher, I want that to be clear, you can ask me anytime to free you and I will. I freed Dobby, and he was a very happy elf working at Hogwarts for a salary and wearing clothes.’

‘Kreacher remembers Dobby. What happened to him?’

‘He died saving my life,’ replied Harry, his jaw feeling hard as he said so.

They stared at each other in seriousness for a moment, and then Kreacher lowered his head.

‘Kreacher is sorry.’

‘Thank you. So choose, Kreacher. Tell me how the life you want looks like, if it looks like you freely travelling the world or hanging out with other elves… or it looks like staying here alone forever, or like coming to work for the Potters. Me, for the most part, because I doubt I’ll be getting married or starting a family any time soon, but you know, hopefully, eventually… there’ll be more of us.’

‘Kreacher wants to stay with Mistress Walburga, but Kreacher also wants to work for Master Harry and his family, Kreacher likes working, Kreacher likes feeling useful.’

‘You could work for me as a free elf if you want. You can do anything you want with your salary.’

‘Kreacher doesn’t want coins. Kreacher doesn’t need freedom. Kreacher doesn’t think elves should want freedom!’ Harry had to remind himself that Kreacher had spent over a hundred years in a very traditional family.

‘All right. Then if you’re going to work for me, it’s not going to be here. I can’t live here, Kreacher, I can’t built a family here.’

‘Is the house not clean enough? Can Kreacher—?’

‘It’s not that you don’t do a brilliant job, or that the house isn’t nice. Firstly, the house isn’t safe. Like I told you at Hogwarts, we accidentally led Death Eaters here, so it’s no longer safe, that’s why we never came back, and besides… look at all those stairs, floors… this house is a claustrophobic tower. I have a baby godson who will be in my house a lot, I can’t risk it with so many stairs, he’ll break his neck the second we turn around, and there are hardly windows, we constantly have to be worried about Muggles not seeing us coming in or out, there’s no garden or anything… it’s very… prison-like. I would much rather live in a smaller place with a good garden, more in the countryside,’ that’s where he’d imagined him and Sirius living together, years back. ‘Somewhere near the ocean, maybe, without Muggles all around to worry about. Would you perhaps accept coming with me to somewhere like that if we could take Mistress Walburga’s portrait with us?’

Kreacher gave it a good thought.

‘What about the Blacks’ hallows? The family tree in the wall? The ancient family—,’

‘What if I give you an entire bedroom in the near house and you can bring all the things you want from here? Mistress Walburga doesn’t even have to know we changed houses, we’ll close the curtains of her portrait and then say we changed her room, make your room a Black’s sanctuary, family tree, shelves full of Blacks’ things, and everything. All that bloody Mundungus Fletcher didn’t steal, at least.’

Kreacher’s eyes lit up.

‘Kreacher would very much like that, Master Harry Potter, Sir!’

Relieved, Harry grinned.

‘Fantastic. So… I’m going to build the new house, it’s going to take a while, but… what do you say if in the meantime, I live here with you? One more year here and we go to the new house. And… maybe some friends come to live here too, for a year?’

Kreacher nodded with enthusiasm, and then unexpectedly reached to hold his hand with both of his smaller hands.

‘We have a deal, Master Harry!’ his enthusiasm made Harry laugh.

‘Yes, Kreacher, we have a deal. All right, then… I’m going to leave, I’ll spend the night at The Burrow with the Weasleys, but I’ll be here tomorrow morning moving in, can you prepare Sirius’s room for me? You know, clean sheets and all that?’

‘The room is already ready for Master Harry, Sir!’

‘Thank you. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.’

The relief and happiness Harry felt leaving for Andromeda’s house were unreal. He was beginning to have a sense of peace, sorting his life out and putting things in order, and the thought made him very, very happy. He would offer Grimmauld Place to Ron, where he could have an entire floor for himself if he wanted more space than The Burrow offered, host grand dinners for the Weasleys, Hagrid and Andromeda, have a room for Teddy to play in, have some privacy with Ginny… and Hermione could come to live there too. They’d been moderately happy there, the three of them, when they’d been planning to infiltrate the Ministry. And he, Harry, would be able to give back to the Weasleys in some way.

Andromeda Tonks lived in a beautiful small, white house with dark-framed windows near the coast, in the outskirts of Shotley in Suffolk, where Teddy had his very own bedroom full of toys, many of which had been procured by Harry. Although Andromeda shared great physical resemblance with her sisters, particularly with Bellatrix Lestrange, having that aristocratic beauty that was common amongst the Black family, she had a light brown hair, long and wavy, and wide, kind eyes. She was a young grandmother, only forty-four, slightly younger than Mrs and Mr Weasley, and usually full with energy running around the house baking or cleaning with Teddy sitting against her hip, although Harry suspected this bit to be partially so that she wouldn’t have time to miss her husband, Ted, a Muggleborn who had been killed by Snatchers only two months previously, or their daughter and son in law.

When Harry entered the house with the key she’d given him, he could already smell baking and hear a crying baby.

‘Good morning,’ said Harry coming in.

Andromeda Tonks was wearing a flour-stained apron and standing in the small sitting room patting Teddy’s back as she held him against his chest. She looked exhausted.

‘Oh, hi Harry,’ she smiled warmly at him. ‘Teddy’s having bad gas.’

‘Ah, you’re a fart bomb aren’t you?’ Harry smiled warmly, stretching his arms for Andromeda to pass the baby. She had taught him how to hold him and how to bounce him, so Harry did so, gently massaging his belly to get him to fart the gas out. ‘He’s really upset.’

‘I’ve made this,’ Andromeda passed Harry a baby bottle with some green liquid inside. ‘He hates it, but it’ll really help. Could you try?’

‘Sure.’

Harry sat down, bottle in hand, and after several attempts and a few stains on his robes, Harry finally managed to coax Teddy into accepting the odd baby bottle. Within moments he stopped crying, seemingly feeling better, and as if he’d realised what had helped, he drunk a bit more, until he flopped against Harry’s chest, sleepily rubbing his tear-stained face.

‘That’s it, Grandma’s potion feels good uh?’ Harry put the bottle aside. ‘That’s genius, Mrs Tonks. Well done,’ he added, because he felt like the woman needed some encouragement. ‘Was it a rough night?’

As he asked that, Harry caressed Teddy’s face and lured him into sleep. He was tiny, looked a bit like both his parents, and had very little amount of hair, which always turned dark when he was in his arms.

‘I’m afraid so,’ Andromeda sighed. ‘Poor thing, I don’t know what kept him awake, but he woke up eight times no less.’

‘Oh, that’s awful. Mrs Tonks, you should’ve sent an owl, I would’ve been here taking turns with you.’

‘Nonsense, I can handle my grandson, I’m not too old just yet. I suppose he was just lonely.’

‘I didn’t mean to imply…’ said Harry, worried he’d stepped with the wrong foot. ‘Mrs Tonks, you’re all his family, his grandmother, his tutor, his main caretaker, his home… but I’m his godfather, and Remus and Nymphadora made me one aware of the times we were living is, aware they might not get to see Teddy grow up, wanting for him to have me and for you to have me too. Wanting for me to help. So, please… do let me know when things get difficult, will you? Not because you can’t handle it alone, but because you don’t have to handle it alone. You’ve got me. I don’t have anyone else, you don’t have anyone else, Teddy doesn’t have anyone else… so let’s be each other’s family.’

‘That’s a really sweet thought,’ Mrs Tonks sighed. ‘I’m sorry Harry. It’s just… difficult times.’

‘Yeah. How are you doing on money? You know I want to contribute to his expenses, if I didn’t give you enough last week…’

‘We’re okay, Harry, really. You could just send a bit once a month and we’d be fine, I have good savings and I work the vegetable garden and sell out for enough money to face our expenses, not like we have any.’

‘And if you ever want to take a day off, you know I’m available to babysit anytime. Or help around the house, day or night.’

‘I appreciate it.’

She didn’t ask why Harry was there, because she assumed it was his permanent reason; to hang out with his godson for a bit.

‘Why don’t you take a nap, since you didn’t sleep?’ asked Harry. ‘I can stay and hold the fort.’

‘Oh, that would actually be nice… can you also check the apple pie in the oven? It should be ready in half an hour.’

‘Deal.’

While Andromeda slept in her room, Harry sat with Teddy sleeping on his chest for a long time, only getting up to get the pie from the oven, but then he put the baby in his crib, leaving the door ajar to hear in case he needed something, and then Harry was able to clean around, put some order, cook lunch, clean the kitchen, do the laundry, that was magically hand-washed, and prepare Teddy’s next bottle with formula mixed with a bit of Andromeda’s potion, in case he was still a little gassy. He didn’t need to worry about Teddy’s nappy because it magically self-cleaned as it got dirty.

By the time Andromeda came back, looking much rested, Harry was setting the table.

‘Teddy’s napping too and lunch is served,’ said Harry, waving his wand so the plates would sit on the table very gently. ‘I thought you deserved a reward for all that hard work, and I feel bad I haven’t helped enough.’

‘Oh, nonsense, you help plenty, plenty! Harry, thank you,’ Andromeda smiled at him and, in an urge of sudden affection, gave him a brief hug. ‘You should call me Dromeda. After all, you’re kind of my grandson too, now.’

Harry smiled and nodded.

‘My pleasure. Please,’ he pulled the chair back for her playfully, and made a flower appear out of nowhere, giving it to her. Bill had taught him that trick once. ‘Bon appetit.’

Smitten, Mrs Tonks took the flower and blushed, starting to eat. Harry joined her, only getting up to check on Teddy for her, and when at last they’d eaten and both had much improved moods, Harry decided to bring in the topic he’d most been wanting to tackle.

‘Dromeda, I’m planning to go on a trip abroad with Ginevra Weasley.’

‘Arthur and Molly’s daughter?’

‘And my girlfriend,’ said Harry.

‘Oh, I thought you were looking rather cosy on those dinners at The Burrow,’ Mrs Tonks smirked knowingly. ‘The young spark of love, isn’t it?’

Harry blushed furiously, but nodded.

‘Ginny has been having a very hard year. I mean, I know it’s been hard for all of us, of course… but she’s sixteen. First I leave her to go do the job against Voldemort, then she has to spend months in a school full of Death Eaters that were making them torture the first-years with the Cruciatus Curse,’ Mrs Tonks scowled. ‘And now Fred dying… she hasn’t quite been herself and neither have I being honest… and I thought I could take her out for a couple months. I have never been on holiday, I have never travelled abroad except for Scotland or Wales, and we have never really spent that much time together alone. So… I’m planning on having her choose all the places of the world she wants to see and spending June and July abroad, sixty days, have some fun adventures together. For all the birthdays and Christmas gifts I have missed, I suppose, before Ginny returns to school and I maybe start working.’

‘Sounds like a very generous idea, it’ll probably do you both a lot of good.’

‘Thing is… I don’t know if it’s too soon, with Teddy being so young. We could do the trip another year, I don’t want to be away if you’d rather have me closer… that said, if I was away and you needed anything, or Teddy, one owl and I’d be here in a heartbeat.’

‘No, no… we’ll manage, don’t you worry. No offence but your eyes have looked tired and bloodshot ever since the battle ended, so this might be what you need,’ said Mrs Tonks with a gentle expression. ‘We’ll be okay, Teddy’s already easier than his mother was, bless him. And Molly’s always offering help. You take care of their girl, poor family they can hardly cope with all that’s going on, and Fred was just a child… I’m sure they’ll appreciate not having to worry about Ginny for a while.’

‘Are you sure? Because I can stay, really—,’

‘Harry, I’m sure,’ Andromeda looked tenderly at him, which made her resemblance to Bellatrix smaller and smaller. ‘You’re seventeen. You should be out there enjoying love and all the good things… it’s the best of life, finding someone who makes you feel like that. And you always end up having less time with that person than you thought you would, so take advantage of every second while you have it, make the most of it.’

Understanding she was thinking of her husband, who she had loved enough to leave her entire family behind even if they never spoke to her again, Harry nodded, touched.

‘I will.’

After spending most of the day at Andromeda’s, Harry returned to The Burrow on time for dinner, apparating out in the garden in the night. He wrapped his robes tighter around himself feeling the cold air, and hurried through the garden and into the house, that was full of light and contrastingly warm.

‘You’re back,’ Ron appeared from the kitchen, holding a letter and grinning. ‘Hermione just sent a letter. Look, there’s a picture.’

Harry came closer and saw a picture Ron was holding with the letter. It was a Polaroid showing Hermione, beaming bright and holding her sister in one arm. Both were showing the tongue to the camera, giggling. Hermione had scribbled on the Polaroid “ Elaine found her tongue! ” and seeing the photograph, both men smiled.

‘She looks happy, doesn’t she? Like she’s sleeping better,’ said Ron with a tone of hopefulness.

‘She is,’ agreed Harry. ‘She deserves happiness, good for her. Will you visit her when she comes back?’

‘Yeah… she says her parents want to meet me,’ he added hopefully. ‘I’m invited for tea when they return to London. Next week, probably.’

‘Don’t worry Ron, you’re the kind of man any parent would be happy to have their daughters date. Especially a Muggle set of parents.’

‘D’you think so?’ his voice grew an octave with the prospect.

‘I’m sure,’ Harry nodded. ‘Think about it. You come from a good family, look pretty handsome and fit and tall, don’t need glasses, don’t bite your nails, your teeth are pretty decent, so that’s already a thumb’s up considering they’re dentists, and you treat people with kindness and respect. I can’t think of something they could dislike.’

His honesty evidently cheered Ron up, because his face lit up.

‘Harry?’ Ginny peeked from the kitchen. ‘There you are. Come on, you two, I’ve set the table all on my own.’

As Harry passed Ginny, he wrapped an arm around her waist to whisper by her ear.

‘All handled with Kreacher and Dromeda, only have to talk with your parents.’

Ginny smiled and nodded, quickly pecking his cheek before hurrying to help her mother with dinner.

Harry then decided to wait until everyone had gone up to bed after dinner except for Mr and Mrs Weasley, who always liked to sit by the fire and have a drink together after dessert.

‘Are you joining us tonight, Harry?’ asked Mr Weasley, smiling and holding up a bottle of Firewhiskey.

‘Sure, why not.’

The liquid burnt its way down Harry’s throat as they sat together in the sitting room, kept warm by the roaring flames in the fireplace.

‘How are Andromeda and Teddy, Harry?’ asked Mrs Weasley.

‘She’s okay, yeah. They’re both all right,’ said Harry. He didn’t want to stay long, because he knew this was their private moment and he felt like an intruder already, so he went down to the point. ‘I actually wanted to talk to you both about a trip I want to do with Ginny, since she’s underage.’

‘A trip?’ Mrs Weasley raised an eyebrow. ‘What, to the beach?’

‘Actually… we have been talking about the possibility of spending June and July abroad, together, exploring the world, visiting several different countries, whichever she’s interested in and that are safe enough. We’d be back in time for my birthday.’

Mr and Mrs Weasley exchanged tense, concerned expressions.

‘Harry… I know we haven’t discussed anything regarding you and Ginny being together but…’ Mr Weasley shifted uncomfortably on his seat. ‘She’s just a child who’s been through more than any child should. I know she’ll be seventeen soon, but it’s not a matter of her not being grown up enough. It’s a matter of the world out there still not being completely safe, and Ginny not being able to do magic outside of Hogwarts, or to apparate, or knowing anything about the Muggle world or international travel. She’s only been abroad a small handful of times, all of them when she was little. What if for whatever reason you become separated? She’ll be left stranded in an unknown place, unable to Disapparate, unable to come home, to do magic, not speaking another language…’

‘I won’t let that happen. I love her, I’ll take care of her, I swear I will—,’

‘You can’t promise nothing bad will happen, not with Death Eaters still out there, people who would love to get some revenge on you,’ said Mrs Weasley candidly. ‘Honestly I don’t even think is a good idea for you to go out like that. I understand you’re dying for it, dying to enjoy the life you’ve never had much to say over, to see some world… but can’t it wait another year, dear? Wait for things to be a little safer? It’ll be better if you both can defend yourselves out there. Take her around Devon if you want, to the beach and all of that, even around England I might agree… enjoy the summer. And next year when you both come back from Hogwarts—,’

‘I’m not going back to Hogwarts,’ said Harry firmly, and finished his glass in one sip, his eyes becoming momentarily glassy from the burnt down his stomach. ‘Look… I have been a crappy boyfriend, and that’s the truth. I care the world about Ginny, I love her, I truly do, and I know I’m so young and all that… but you guys got married at my age, you understand,’ Mr and Mrs Weasley blushed furiously. ‘I dropped Ginny and left, couldn’t write to her, couldn’t do anything… and now I have her for a limited amount of time because come September, she’ll be back to Hogwarts and I’ll be in the Aurors. Kingsley’s offered me a chance to train with them and join up once I’ve been prepared enough.’

‘That’s what Ron says as well,’ commented Mr Weasley. ‘There’s no taking those ideas out of his head.’

‘After all we’ve done? Of course not, and Ron will make a brilliant Auror, one of the best I’m sure,’ said Harry. ‘My point is I don’t know what life’s going to look like for me in a year but I know what it looks like now. And now Ginny’s barely sleeping, she’s in a house filled by the absence of Fred, wherever she looks there’s a new painful memory, and things are not much better for me. We haven’t had the chance to be children, not really, we’ve only known worry and fear for the past year, just like you. And I want to help her and myself, when we need the help, which is now. I can afford the entire cost of the trip, I won’t let her spend a knut, I just want your permission to give her an amazing experience so she can come back a new, happier person ready to kick some arse at Hogwarts, and hopefully I can come back better too and we can actually know what it is like to be a couple. And I won’t even sleep in her same room in hotels and stuff, I won’t,’ Harry promised, ‘you can trust me, I won’t take advantage of her, I won’t leave her alone, I won’t abandon her, I won’t let anything happen to her, I swear.’

‘It’s not like we don’t trust you, Harry, we know you’re a good one for Ginny, we love you guys are together. It’s just we don’t trust the world,’ said Mrs Weasley tenderly.

‘Yes, look at what’s happened to people like Ted Tonks, experienced wizards like that, and they still got—,’

‘It won’t happen to us,’ Harry insisted. ‘I have my Invisibility Cloak, at the slightest sign of trouble I’ll throw it over us and Disapparate somewhere safe. I mean, look at Hermione, she’s all the way in Australia and she’s safe.’

‘Kingsley did put people to keep them safe from the distance,’ Mrs Weasley pointed out.

Harry shut his mouth, but then came up with an idea.

‘I’ll do the same thing Hermione, Ron and I did and we stayed moderately safe nine months. We’ll use Perkins’s tent, I’m sure I can find it, and Hermione taught me all sorts of charms and spells that will make us undetectable and invisible to wizards, witches and Muggles. Then we just have to change camping spot every few days, keep moving, lay low, never go anywhere public without the Invisibility Cloak or the Polyjuice Potion. And we’ll write back regularly, and I know how to make a Patronus that can talk, if needed to. I’ve been practising,’ Harry revealed. ‘Come on, please… if it gets even slightly dangerous, I’ll bring us back home in a heartbeat, please!’

Harry felt like a young child begging his parents for a gift. He was out of practise, because he’d given up on the Dursleys in his toddler years. Somewhat amused, Mr Weasley and Mrs Weasley exchanged looks again, and this time Harry knew he’d gotten their approval.

‘A camping trip, uh? Around the world,’ said Mr Weasley.

‘If you want we’ll keep it in this side of the Atlantic and no father than the borders of the continent,’ Harry proposed.

‘And you sleep in separate sides of the tent,’ added Mr Weasley with a raised finger.

‘All right.’

‘And you don’t go without being properly prepared, which means Essence of Dittany for a proper First Aid Kit, Polyjuice…’ continued Mrs Weasley.

‘Of course.’

‘You should take Ginny’s broom too, one never knows,’ added Mr Weasley.

‘Done,’ Harry nodded. ‘So can we?’

‘If you’re not back on the 31^st we’ll never trust you with our daughter again,’ said Mrs Weasley the most severe she’d ever spoken to him, but then she beamed. ‘But of course, we’ll have to get you a camera!’

Relief washed over Harry, and he beamed.

‘Thank you! I even got Andromeda to approve, so I might even make us return sooner if she needs us,’ said Harry. ‘Thank you! You won’t regret it!’

Mr and Mrs Weasley could only laugh as Harry enthusiastically ran up the stairs to tell Ginny. He knocked on the door and as soon as Ginny opened, Harry felt so overjoyed that he lifted her up, making her laugh and kissed her.

‘Start thinking which places you want to see the most, because I’m taking you to the moon,’ Harry announced with a beaming expression, which prompted Ginny to beam at him and kiss him, partly excited about the trip but also so relieved and glad to see him smiling so big after so long. She couldn’t remember having seen Harry looking so great since they had first gotten together the previous year.

‘To the moon, uh?’ she asked with a smirk of amusement as he set her back on the floor and she kept her arms around his neck.

‘Europe, actually. And we’ll be living in Perkins’s tent. Had to make some concessions,’ he added with an apologetic expression.

‘All that matters is we are going to see the world. Congratulations, you made it,’ proud of Harry, Ginny kissed him again, and then just grinned back at him, wanting to fix her eyes in him and engrave in her memory the expression of pure glee in Harry’s face.

‘This will be good for us, right?’ asked Harry.

‘Of course. We’ll come back all recharged, more able to help people, you were right all along. The more I’ve thought about it, the more sense it makes. And that tent is incredible, anyway.’

Perkins, a long-time friend of Mr Weasley, was one of his subordinates at the Ministry, and had been for many years now. It had been Perkins who, due to his lumbago, had gifted Mr Weasley his magical tent, with which Mr Weasley had taken his younger children, Harry and Hermione to the Quidditch World Cup in 1994 in England. The next one should’ve happened that summer in France, but it had been cancelled due to the world’s circumstances, and instead France would host the Quidditch World Cup of 2002, when the world was better prepared and more recovered for it. Perkins’s tent had done a brilliant job at the World Cup, and subsequently, Hermione had asked Mr Weasley to borrow it for their journey during the last year. The problem now, was to find it again.

‘It is.’

‘Wait… isn’t it the same tent Hermione borrowed? The one you said you’d been living in?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So you already have it.’

‘Er… no,’ said Harry. ‘That’s the one thing I need to fix, but I’ll ask Ron to help. Thing is when the Snatchers took us to Malfoy Manor,’ by then Ginny knew the whole story, ‘we just had to leave it behind. And chances are that because of the protective enchantments is invisible to the eye. We’ll have to find a way to apparate in the same place without Hermione to guide us and walk in circles until we literally stumble into it.’

‘Sounds exciting. Count me in.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Of course,’ Ginny smirked at his incredulity. ‘Can’t let you do all the work, can I?’

With that idea in mind, Harry wasted no time the next morning to tell Ron about the trip. He had waited in case it didn’t happen in the end, but now that it had all the thumbs’ up, Harry spent the morning first writing to Kingsley to figure out how to transport from one country to another, because he knew apparition in too long distances was dangerous and reckless, and then he sat with Ron, as they took care of the vegetable garden together for Mrs Weasley, and briefed him.

Like his parents, Ron wasn’t overly enthusiastic about the idea of his sister being out there, but once he knew Harry’s plan, he was more convinced it’d be okay. After all, they’d managed mostly fine with the same security measures for nine months, with not many security problems and none of them due to lack of enchantments and protections.

‘I suppose it would help, to get out of here for a while,’ said Ron thoughtfully while the two filled baskets with vegetables and fruits. ‘Although… I’d feel bad leaving them behind…’

‘I’m not an expert on grief and I’m not a Dad, Ron, but I think… perhaps your parents are making such an effort to be strong for their children that they’re not dealing with their own grief properly, don’t you think? As a possibility,’ Harry hypothesised, sweat dripping down both their temples under the blazing sun.

‘Maybe,’ Ron looked at The Burrow for a long moment. ‘It’s true that sometimes… all one wants is to be alone, right?’

‘Right.’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps I could ask Hermione if her parents would maybe consider inviting me over for a bit. I sometimes also think this is beginning to feel a little like a prison, and I miss her. Can you believe it? Me missing Hermione, when I used to say such crap about her,’ Ron rolled eyes at himself, shaking his head and swiping the soaked in sweat hair out of his forehead.

Harry considered whether to tease him or not, but in the end settled with just looking amused with the same thought.

‘Wild,’ agreed Harry. ‘Well, you do take care of each other while I’m gone, uh? She’s my sister.’

‘Yeah, you take care of mine. If anything happens to Ginny, you know… and no funny business,’ added Ron, pointing a finger towards Harry. ‘You keep that thing in your pants, mate. You can wait at least until she’s eighteen.’

‘Eighteen?’

‘Hermione says that’s when Muggles become adults, and since there are more Muggles than wizards and witches, I’ll consider they’re right,’ said Ron firmly. ‘Ginny is too young.’

‘Ron, I promise not to pressure your sister into anything, not to assault her, and to be a gentleman. You know me, I’d never want to do anything to lose the respect of your family. Besides, I’m sure if I mess up Ginny will, regardless of the Ministry’s opinion, use magic against me. And we all know how good she’s at jinxes and hexes.’

‘Scarily good. So you need help finding the tent, yeah?’

Ron grabbed two baskets of different colours of peppers, and Harry picked up baskets of tomatoes and potatoes, both walking together towards the house.

‘Yes,’ Harry nodded. ‘Do you think we might be able to locate the exact place where they took us?’

‘Sure,’ replied Ron without a doubt. ‘I’m never going to forget that night. I’ll find it.’

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: The Dursleys.

With Ginny between them holding their hands, Harry and Ron Apparated at a forest. In the light of day, Harry thought that all forests looked the same to him, and Ron quickly realised they were in the wrong place. As it turns out, he’d been able to phone Hermione —the Weasleys had a Muggle phone they made work with magic— and she had given him very specific descriptions, although Ron also seemed to have quite the vivid memories of the night. Harry, whose face Hermione had transfigured so his eyes swelled to the point that he could hardly see, had little recollection of the visuals of their surroundings that night.

It took four attempts and over two hours of walking around but at last, Ron stopped and his eyes widened looking around.

‘We’re here,’ he said, and pointed at a clear between two trees. ‘That’s where they tied us to Dean and Griphook.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Harry, who thought the place looked a bit familiar, but not so much. Then, he saw some flowers. ‘The hyacinths! I remember them!’

‘Told you we’re in the right place. And the tent should be…’

They walked very slowly and suddenly felt the air shift and, in front of them, there was the tent, just like they had left it.

‘Woah,’ gasped Ginny. ‘Well done.’

Entering the tent, however, affected Ron and Harry in a way they hadn’t foreseen. Everything was chaotic, but not like animals had gone in. The charms had kept the tent safe, and it just looked like the Snatchers had really registered it, as they knew it had happened. Ron’s radio, which they’d just listened to when Harry had accidentally said Voldemort’s name and gotten the Snatchers on them, was dumped on the floor, there were droops of blood where Ron had probably been punched, sword polish on the table where Hermione had been polishing Gryffindor’s sword, broken mugs of tea on the floor, socks thrown in a corner… Ron found one of Hermione’s jumpers on the bed and he took it and brought it to his chest, flopping on the bed looking ashen, and Harry knew that, as it was happening to him, Ron was reliving vividly that night.

His own throat dry, Harry looked around, spotting a pair of shoes of his under another bed, and abandoned dinner plates with remnants of food covered in mould.

‘Ginny,’ Harry heard himself say, although he could hardly recognise his own voice, ‘would you please stand outside in guard? Give us a shout if you see anything.’

Without another word, Ginny walked outside, and Harry sat with Ron. He was trembling, his jaw clenched and his eyes filled with tears, fixed on Hermione’s jumper, from which emanated a faint whiff of her perfume.

‘Ron—,’

‘It was all your fault, you know?’ Ron muttered in a voice that wasn’t full of anger, but of hurt, in a way that worried Harry more than if he’d shouted at him. ‘I told you over and over again the name was taboo. If you had shut up…’ he shook his head, and rubbed his eyes. ‘She lives that every night. You know what Crouch pretending to be Moody said that you had to feel it? Imagine what Lestrange felt for Hermione, a Muggle-born and your bestie, hatred doesn’t even begin to cover it, so imagine just for a second the pain she went through because of you,’ he looked up at Harry and in his blue eyes there was just pain and disappointment. ‘You’ve never even apologised to her, have you? And she cannot hold it against you, of course… but I can. Greyback could’ve eaten her alive that night and if he had… I would’ve never forgiven you, Harry. Never. And I don’t mean it’s just your fault, is theirs mainly, but you’re… you’re accomplice, you know? You are. Your clumsiness, your slip-up, has given Hermione a life-long trauma. You know where we were, the morning you woke up at Hogwarts and we were already gone and she’d left a note? She’d woken up screaming. The potion had begun to wear off, for some reason, and she’d woken up screaming her throat off, so of course it woke me up. We talked right there for a long time without you bulging, and in the end I convinced her to go and get some fresh air, and she wanted to leave a note because she always puts everyone else first. But she told me… she told me when Lestrange was torturing her… that at some point she wished she’d kill her already. So she wouldn’t suffer any more… and so we wouldn’t have to hear her shouting either. But she said,’ Ron was rubbing tears off his eyes and Harry was frozen with horror on the spot, unable to say anything, ‘that the thought lasted little, because she realised if she didn’t hold on, they might hurt you and I left, and she had to stay awake to help us. She was being tortured and still all she thought of was how to help us. And she would’ve bloody died for us. Worse. She would’ve ended up like Neville’s parents for us.’

Ron then was forced to stop rambling and sit in silence, breathing to try and calm himself, hiding his face against Hermione’s jumper. Horrified, Harry rubbed his face, feeling the guilt crippling like bile. He tried to speak, but the knot in his throat was so firm that he couldn’t, so in the end it took him several long minutes before he could finally say a word, his voice hoarse.

‘I know, you’re right,’ Harry nodded. ‘You’re absolutely right. I messed up, and the price was far too high. She deserves an apology and I’ll make sure she receives a proper one, next time I see her, face to face. But in the meantime… I apologise to you, Ron,’ Harry put a hand on his shoulder and gulped the knot. ‘I was a poor leader. I let you go, when I should’ve realised it was just the Horcrux, and to Hermione… I’ve lost count on the things I must say sorry for. Practically kicking you out, nearly getting us killed at Godric’s Hollow because I would shut her up when she was repeatedly trying to tell me how suspicious everything was… saying Voldemort in this tent and getting her hurt. I always thought that night was worth the suffering because we rescued Ollivander and Luna and got essential clues out of it, but you’re right. Nothing is worth Hermione’s trauma. And if I could take her nightmares, if I could take her pain… I would in a heartbeat. So I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful. I’m sorry.’

The two friends sat silently for a while and then Ron took a deep breath and nodded, he patted Harry’s knee and next thing Harry knew, Ron was up and tidying around.

‘Water under the bridge, uh?’ said Ron. ‘We need to move forward, we have to. You just… make sure to make some good memories in this hell hole. Come on, we should tidy up, gather the stuff we left behind…’

It took them another hour to properly clean the tent, take it apart, and put it in its bag. It was, externally, a very small tent, even if inside it had two bedrooms separated with curtains —the boys had always shared one— as well as a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living area, so they were able to fit it in a bag and get back to The Burrow.

‘Are you okay?’ Ginny asked Harry when they were alone in his room, where they were preparing the things for the trip, because there was more space than in Ginny’s.

‘Yeah, it’s just… bad memories, that night. I wish Hermione was here. I wish I could tell her face to face, right now… I wish I could go back and do things differently. Some traumas were unavoidable, you know? Some were just… doomed to happen. Highly likely. But what happened to Hermione was entirely avoidable. Her charms worked. Her spells worked. All the security measures we took worked, and if I had just not said the taboo name, when I knew it was, when Ron and Hermione kept reminding me… we would’ve been fine.’

‘I have always thought you live too much in the past, Harry,’ said Ginny softly. ‘You focus on the losses. On the death. On the pain. I mean, I get why, but… the past no longer exists, you realise? The only thing that’s real right now is the now, the present, and if you spend it tormenting yourself about things you cannot change, you’ll never move forward.’

‘Yeah, maybe you’re right. Anyway,’ he released a deep breath, ‘time to focus on the trip, uh? We have only a couple weeks left. I need you to be on the lookout, I wrote to Kingsley this morning so I’m expecting an answer with the information we need to know to travel.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘The Dursleys,’ said Harry. ‘When I left, I had to pack light so I left tons of things behind. Hogwarts stuff mainly, but still… maybe some of it is useful for the trip, so I’ll pick everything up. Besides, there might be things you can inherit, I tend to take very good care of my things, for the most part.’

‘Sure. Are you sure you want to go alone? Ron or myself would be happy to—,’

‘No offence,’ Harry smiled small at her, apologetic, ‘but the Dursleys are truly insufferable people, they might be a little more polite if I don’t bring more magic into their house.’

‘They’re never going to understand the incredible thing you’ve done, will they?’

‘I doubt it.’

When Harry was ready to apparate in Little Whinging, Surrey, he was somewhat astonished to find everything just like he remembered it, when he felt so different and when his previous life there felt now very, very far away. Gone were the days in which he’d be running away from school bullies like Dudley and his friends, or he’d be lying on the Dursleys’ garden under the living room window trying to listen to the News in the TV. Gone were the days of working like a slave cleaning with toxic products and making breakfasts when he was only a child, and the days in the cupboard under the stairs.

Arriving to Privet Drive, Harry almost felt like laughing at the picture of everything being so normal, so timeless. He could be living in 1990, before his whole life had changed forever, and Private Drive would look the exact same as it did now, eight years later. And as he turned into the street, Harry was surprised to find Mrs Arabella Figg, a squib, a kind neighbour who’d always been good to him. She was walking with a cane and a large purse now and, seeing him suddenly in front of her, she stood in shock.

‘Harry?’ she asked in disbelief.

‘Hi Mrs Figg.’

‘Oh, boy,’ Mrs Figg beamed, approaching him and, without warning, she hugged him. She smelled of her cats. ‘Look at you! What an amazing thing you’ve done. Truly amazing.’

‘Thank you,’ Harry curved his lips, smiling. His beard-covered face looked happy to see her. ‘I’m glad to see you’re well.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Forgot some stuff at the house.’

‘I see. Well, good luck,’ she patted his shoulder. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘See you.’

Harry saw her go before he went back to his track, and walked to the number 4. Vernon Dursley’s car was at the garage entrance, parked the same as always, and considering it was a Friday evening, Harry imagined that he’d probably just returned from work. With a sense of trepidation, Harry rang the bell.

After a few moments of silence, Harry heard the wood creak under the carpet in the other side of the door as quick steps made their way to the door, that trembled slightly as someone leaned against it from the other side, presumably to look through the peephole. Harry could almost hear his Aunt Petunia take a sharp intake of breath before the door opened and her long horse-like face appeared.

Petunia Dursley was now a forty-two year old woman, but she hadn’t changed much in the almost seventeen years since Harry had first met her. She was about as tall as Harry, and her blonde hair had been dyed regularly for the past few years to stay in its prime. She had the same blue-grey eyes that Dudley had inherited, just like Harry had inherited his own mother’s, Petunia’s sister’s, eyes, and was pale and thin, with long fingers. As per usual, she was wearing an apron, which had flour stains on it, and as a new thing, her face had lines of tiredness and bags under her eyes.

And now, her eyes seemed to be trying to decide whether she was glad of seeing him or not.

‘Hi,’ she said at last, her voice barely audible.

‘Who’s there dear?’ came Uncle Vernon’s voice from the inside. ‘Is it Dudders?’

Uncle Vernon walked slowly down the stairs, so fat the steps complained as he walked, and came face to face with Harry too. He was just as Harry remembered him, although perhaps slightly less fat, his moustache all the same, although he was quite greying at forty-seven.

‘You,’ said Mr Dursley, frowning. ‘What are you doing here? You don’t expect us to leave again, don’t you?’

‘No,’ replied Harry, speaking for the first time. ‘I’m here to pick up some stuff I left behind, if you haven’t thrown my things out. Then you won’t ever see me again, I give you my word, Uncle Vernon.’

‘Very well,’ Mr Dursley moved off the stairs and pointed vaguely towards them. ‘Off you go, then.’

Petunia moved aside and looked oddly at Harry, almost anxiously, as he walked past her and up the stairs.

His old bedroom, Dudley’s former second bedroom —and, Harry supposed, soon to be second bedroom again— was just like Harry had left it; uncharacteristically tidy, quite oddly emptied out and, underneath his bed, his school trunk with all of his remaining belongings. Harry took it out, deciding he would open it at The Burrow and sort the rest of his things out, since it was only a matter of school and Quidditch robes, cauldrons, quills, parchments and school books, most of which Ginny would likely inherit, if McGonagall returned the school list for Year 6 to what it had been when Harry had studied it. He opened and closed drawers and looked around just to be completely sure he didn’t leave anything behind, and then he turned around to leave and instead, nearly collided with Aunt Petunia, who had suddenly appeared.

‘Everything in order?’ she asked, looking around.

‘Yes, thanks,’ said Harry. ‘I’ll be out of your way now.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Sorry?’ Harry was quite caught off guard that she would ask such a thing, when she’d never before cared where he was or what he did outside her house, so he thought he surely had misheard.

‘Where do you live, if not here?’ asked Petunia. ‘That house of your godfather’s?’

‘Ah, no. I haven’t moved into it yet,’ admitted Harry, confused. ‘I live at my best friend’s house with his family. They love having me there.’

He wasn’t sure why he added the last bit, but Harry could sense an urge to show her he had it better than they ever gave him, that he didn’t care if he wasn’t wanted in that house. Not any more.

Petunia nodded slowly, and for a moment it looked like she almost regretted something.

‘You look different. More grown-up,’ she commented timidly.

This was true. Harry continued to keep his hair shorter than ever before in his life, without fringe, and continued to have a very trimmed beard, that grew quite thick in him, and of which he only clean-shaved the neck.

‘Yeah,’ said Harry, not knowing what to say. It looked like Petunia wanted to have some sort of conversation, but didn’t know how to make it happen. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’

‘I uh…’ she flustered and shrugged, closing the door behind her. ‘I don’t want to never see you again, that’s all. Dudley is away today with his friends, but I think he would like to see you.’

‘Right. Well, maybe I’ll have time to pass by again in a few months. I’m going abroad for a few months.’

‘Abroad? Where?’

‘Everywhere. My girlfriend and I are going on holiday.’

‘Girlfriend?’ Petunia looked surprised. ‘Of course, you’re at the age…’ she added, as if chastising herself. She then looked unsure at him, and Harry found the entire conversation really odd. Petunia wasn’t acting like she always was. She was acting like she was small next to him, timid, insecure, like this was his house she was intruding in. ‘Would you… tell me about her?’

Astonishing Harry a little further, Petunia sat shyly at the feet of his bed, keeping the hands on her lap and looking up at him as if pleading with him. Was Petunia trying to take interest in his life now?

Not knowing how else to react, Harry sat down on his desk chair, keeping some distance and his trunk between them.

‘She’s uh… red-haired, like my Mum,’ said Harry, and he thought he imagined a spark in Petunia’s eyes. ‘Brown eyes. Her name’s Ginny, Ginny Weasley. She’s my best friend’s little sister, almost a year younger than me… and she’s the most wonderful and beautiful woman I know.’

‘That’s good. Very good,’ said Petunia. ‘You could… bring her one day.’

‘What for? She’s a witch. You guys hate people like us, remember?’

Petunia shrugged, unsure.

‘I don’t hate people like you,’ said Petunia. ‘I just… you have to understand… they took my little sister away and I never saw her again.’

It was the first time ever Petunia acknowledged what Harry had found out through found letters and third parties; that Petunia and Lily Evans had once been very, very close, and when Lily had gone into the magical world, Petunia had been heartbroken, angry and devastated, and had since paid it with every wizard and witch, calling them weird people and freaks and all sorts of things, when in reality she might’ve even wanted to be like them, to be with Lily. After all, Harry had long now suspected that the real reason Petunia disliked wizards was because she blamed them for having lost her sister, first to Hogwarts, then to her new family, and then to murder.

‘You could have,’ said Harry. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t find out?’

‘Find what out?’

‘That you insulted her. That you called her a freak, that you made her cry for being a witch, that you pushed her away and made her horrified for who she was,’ said Harry, and saw the most surprise and astonishment in Petunia’s eyes. ‘I saw it. The boy who used to play with her when you were little became one of the most brilliant men I’ve ever met, and before he died, he gave me his memories, advanced magic. So I could see it, see what he saw, without it being manipulated, just the way it truly was, that’s how it works in the magical world. And I saw how horrible you were to her, how much pain you put her through, how she tried over and over to reach out to you and you broke her heart,’ Harry didn’t expect to suddenly feel so angry, and carry so much accusation in his voice, but it happened. ‘You didn’t even hug her goodbye at the train station when she left. You didn’t want anything to do with her, so don’t blame my kind… we didn’t take her. You kicked her out. And she cried day after day because of it, even at Hogwarts, because she missed you and she hated that you hated her just for being a witch, and made her feel like something was wrong with her—,’

‘Stop it…’

‘—and then she started dating my father and she knew happiness and love and acceptance again, like you’d never given her, and they had me, and she was so happy yet so afraid and alone and in hiding knowing Voldemort wanted me dead, trying to protect her family—,’

‘Shut up.’

‘—and then he killed her, and you’ve never even asked me to find out where her grave was, you don’t even care, and she loved you!’

‘Shut up!’

They found themselves standing, agitated, angrily glaring at each other, but they hadn’t shouted so loud that they would be heard by Vernon downstairs.

‘Look at her eyes,’ Harry murmured, by a sudden fever of revenge, of hurt, of wanting to hit her with all he had for the pain she’d caused her mother. ‘The eyes of her son, who you shoved in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years, after all you already did to her. Look at the eyes of the woman who would’ve been honoured to raise your son if she had had to, who would’ve given him a room, a family, love, all you didn’t give her own son who had no one else. Shame on you.’

Petunia’s eyes filled with tears and surprisingly, she spat towards him but it didn’t quite hit him. Harry shook his head.

‘I should leave,’ he said, picking up his trunk. ‘Forever.’

‘At least I let you stay here!’

‘Dumbledore forced you to! And you were too scared to ever say no to him! Like I said,’ added Harry, glaring at her. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I know that it took a wizard to pressure you into the agreement, or else you are despicable enough to have abandoned your baby nephew in the street in the cold of the night.’

‘That’s what you think of me?’

‘Yes. And you know what else I think of you and your stupid family?’

‘What?’ Petunia challenged him.

‘Your son and your husband have serious problems with obesity and cruelty and I’ll be surprised if their hearts can sustain their fat arses further than fifty years,’ said Harry, aggravating Petunia. ‘And there’s a special place in hell for people who lock toddlers and children in cupboards with spiders, who barely feed them or let them out, and who use physical and psychological violence in them day after day,’ there were things Harry had years ago stopped thinking about, because they were such old memories that they almost seemed to belong to someone else, to be fake, intruders in his brain too horrific to be true.

But now he remembered perfectly well. Being three and shoved into the cupboard without dinner for having given Dudley a bloody lip after Dudley had pushed him down the stairs, Vernon giving him such a strong smack on the head for having asked if he could, like Dudley, ask for Christmas presents, that he fell face first in the street as a little child and cut his cheek, Petunia pushing him away for reaching out for dessert pie one day, and being shoved into the Cupboard gripped by the ear… It was like opening some Pandora box that he’d kept tightly closed for several years now, since the Dursleys had been too afraid of his magic, Hagrid and Dumbledore to torment him any more, and it had a cataclysmic effect; Harry found himself trembling, the vein in his neck bulging with anger, he was light-headed, seeing red, and he had to make a huge effort not to do accidental magic, but here he was, with his wand in his hand, pointing it directly against Petunia’s face, his own contorted with fury, and she looked absolutely terrified, falling backwards on the bed, scared into silence.

‘You can’t do magic outside school,’ she said with a trembling voice. ‘They’ll expel you…’

‘I’m no longer a student, and our Minister happens to be a good friend. He’ll understand if I put you in the place you deserve,’ said Harry with a voice he hardly recognised.

Petunia released a deep sigh and looked down.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said then. ‘You’ve got every right to be angry, Harry.’ Being called by name, and not “the boy” “that boy” “you” or just nothing, made Harry’s anger begin to dissolve, and he lowered his wand a little. ‘I don’t expect you to understand what it was like for Lily and I, when we were children. You don’t have siblings, after all. But I loved Lily. I will always love Lily, and miss her, and wish…’ she shook her head, and looked sincerely crestfallen. ‘Those wizards, they just came home one day saying Lily was special, different… she was only eleven, a child, and I was fifteen, I thought… how would you feel if a ton of strangers who do strange, scary things, come into your house saying they’re taking your little sister far, far away? To a place you can never see her, or visit her, a place whose location is secret! I was terrified. I couldn’t understand why my parents were so elated, I thought everyone was mad! They couldn’t just take Lily away like that, a child… what if she needed us? What if she got hurt? And how were we to know these strangers were good people, trustworthy people?’

Harry put the wand back in his pocket and returned to his chair, taking a deep breath. Petunia had a point. If any stranger had come assuring him his little sister would be taken to a school for witches, when one was normally taught to believe those were just tales, and wanting to take her away… he wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted. In retrospect, it had been a bit insane to trust Hagrid, and Harry was quite sure he had only done it because he hadn’t been able to imagine it being worse than what he had.

‘You didn’t have to be so cruel to her though. So hostile.’

‘That’s true. I acted wrong, I… took my frustrations on her, couldn’t understand her, so I called her mad instead, and hated everyone who would continue to take her from us, including your father. You don’t know how much I have regretted everything since.’

‘If you really had, you would’ve treated me like a son, and not like scum.’

‘You don’t think I did?’ Petunia got up and rushed out of the room. Harry thought she’d stormed off, offended, so he got ready to leave but, just as he opened the door, Petunia rushed back in, holding an album. It was small and thin, and she hit Harry’s chest as she trust it to him with such force.

Dropping the trunk, Harry took the album and opened it. To his surprise, he saw a photograph of a baby not older than one, sleeping. He had a band-aid on his forehead and dark hair, and was sleeping in a cot with a teddy bear by his side. It was Harry.

‘I took that picture on your first week here,’ said Petunia with eyes unexpectedly charged with emotion. Passing the pages, Harry saw a very young Petunia holding two babies, or holding him —it was easy to distinguish because he was much smaller than Dudley, and Dudley was fat, pink and blonde, whereas Harry was merely chubby and dark-haired—, in another picture she sat on the floor with both boys sitting on her lap, the three smiling. There were pictures of Harry and Dudley playing together with Dudley’s toys, of Harry walking around the house holding a teddy bear or some other toy, several with small soldier toys… and Harry remembered those soldiers, with their little black platforms to hold them up, because they’d been in the Cupboard for as long as he could remember.

He was shocked, stunned into silence. He’d never seen those photographs, that seemed to belong to someone else. He’d never seen photographic evidence of Petunia caring for him, putting band-aids and pomades on his scar when he was youngest, and seemingly abandoning those later as she realised the scar wouldn’t heal. It looked like he’d been happy, as a one or two year old. There weren’t photographs any later than that.

‘Of course I loved you. You were everything I had of her, and when you laughed… it was like seeing her laugh. The same eyes, looking at me lovingly again. And you were such a difficult baby, always crying in your sleep, always waking everybody up, so I’d wake up and hold you all night, sing to you… it was the only way for you to sleep. And then… You started doing magic, weird things… in the beginning, I always found excuses, so that Vernon wouldn’t suspect, but I knew, I’d seen Lily…’ said Petunia. ‘And then one day, you must’ve been around three years old, we took you and Dudley to the beach, in a holiday in Portugal. There was this little cove with almost no depth of water, separated from the main ocean by a line of large rocks so that not much water would get in, and there weren’t waves. Dudley and you could sit there and play together… Vernon had fallen asleep, and I was standing close to you, watching the both of you play with some water toys. And then you started fighting. Dudley didn’t want to let you use some toy. Next thing I knew, Dudley was flying in the air, falling into the deeper part of the cove… and your hands were outstretched towards him. It was like you’d magically pushed him away with incredible force. Dudley nearly drowned, he ended up in the hospital for a night, Vernon and I couldn’t explain what had happened… but you had almost killed our son, so we turned against you. We realised you were dangerous, that the more you grew the more magical you’d be, the more powerful, the more of a risk to have home. We were trying to protect Dudley.’

‘So you locked me up,’ Harry muttered.

Harry had knew, he had studied it in school, how every time through centuries of history that someone had behaved strangely, done things nobody could expect, people had reacted in horrific, unfathomable, cruel ways, even against their own brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, and children, because people fear what they don’t understand, and that fear can sometimes be very disproportioned. So Muggles had persecuted wizards, burnt them alive at the stake, thrown them from cliffs —even pregnant women—, tortured them in various ways to try and slap the magic or the weird out of them, and even locked them up for life in madhouses. What had happened to him was similar to the later.

‘We didn’t, not at first,’ said Petunia, pale, trembling. ‘I wrote to that Dumbledore, told him we couldn’t keep you, that it was madness, that you were dangerous for Dudley. He came and he made me promise… he was very angry, very scary. Told me you would end up dead like Lily if you left this house, that her death would be in vain then, so I had no choice. I begged Vernon, pleaded with him… and he agreed to let you stay only if it was in the Cupboard, I had no more say in it, he was terrified for Dudley and I couldn’t blame him. He would’ve otherwise thrown you out into the dumpster in the night. I put those soldiers, you were obsessed with them, into the Cupboard with you, tried to make it a cosy cave, told you it was like Batman’s cave, that it was cool… and you really liked it at first, until you realised you could never go out, never come on holiday again, or to the beach, or play with Dudley, or use his toys, be alone with him, let alone be around guests. And the more we locked you up the worse your magic would get. Milk bottles would suddenly explode in the kitchen, lights would go on and off, the TV… odd stuff all the time, whenever you were angry. So we began getting angry at you. Vernon thought that all you needed was a firm hand, and then you’d be normal again, so he got very rough on you and I let him, thinking… that he was right…’

‘You thought he could punch the magic out of me?’ Harry asked, outraged.

‘Well, it did something,’ said Petunia. ‘Weird things started happening less and less. You became quiet. You stopped shouting and crying…’

‘Because Vernon would hit the hell out of me if I did!’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Petunia. ‘But all we wanted was to protect everyone, keep you both alive at whatever cost. It was that or leaving you out there, where those monsters would’ve found you.’

‘Or, imagine, I don’t know… being humane? My best friend’s parents aren’t wizards, and she’s grown up without being traumatised, in a happy home!’

‘What else can I do now! I didn’t know what to do! That man, Dumbledore, he wasn’t exactly helpful! And you had to go to school, have you got any idea how terrified we were that you’d hurt somebody? You’d hurt people in kindergarten! We’d had to take you out of it!’

‘I did… what?’ Harry scowled, his heart thundering.

‘Whenever you got angry with another toddler, bad things would happen to them. You think what happened to Aunt Marge was a one off? It wasn’t. You did that to toddlers, toddlers! Thankfully it was in much smaller scale back then, they didn’t get to float in the air and they’d go back to normal right around the time panicked parents would take them to the hospital, but still… and other stuff! Children going green! Vomiting non stop! We got letter after letter and eventually we were told you couldn’t go back, so we were anguished and terrified about what you’d do in school! You’d gone from a sweet baby to a horrific child, out of control, nothing we could do! You were dangerous and cruel! So we locked you up, yes we did, and we prayed every time we sent you to school that nothing bad would happen and luckily, no more accidental magic got dangerous enough to warrant you never going to school. We thought you might make friends there, become normal, and then you would’ve had a bedroom for yourself and gone back to a normal life…’

‘Yeah, sure, like that would happen with Dudley’s bullying. He and his mates were busy shoving my head in the toilet, thank you very much.’

‘Well I didn’t know that…’

‘Like I didn’t try to tell you! Like you ever listened to me!’

‘I thought it was related to the weird things you did! That the boys were only trying to protect themselves!’

There was a banging on the door, which Petunia had locked.

‘What’s all that shouting?! Petunia? Why is the door locked? If you hurt Petunia, boy, I—!’ Vernon shouted.

Petunia rushed to the door and unlocked it.

‘It’s okay, dear,’ said Petunia with a sudden smile as Vernon appeared like a massive bulldog. ‘We’re not shouting, just talking. We must’ve gotten a bit too enthusiastic. You go watch your football, darling, we’re all right. Harry and I have some talking to do.’

Vernon looked untrustworthy at Harry.

‘Are you sure darling?’

‘I’m absolutely sure, thank you.’

‘All right. But if you need help…’

‘I’ll shout.’

They waited until they heard Vernon in the stairs before Petunia locked the door again and turned to Harry. She took a deep breath.

‘Look, I know what we did was horrible and I am really, really sorry. It killed me too, to have to be like that, it killed me every day… but I was trying to protect my son too, and you. How do you think the world would be against you if you did stuff like my sister did? Kids were horrible to Lily, but she controlled her magic very well, you didn’t. She managed to keep her weird things out of public eye… you were doing dangerous things, becoming dangerous to others, and I knew if I didn’t put an end to it, you’d end up arrested, or shot by the police, or God knows! People would’ve tortured you, locked you up in an asylum, given you loads of pills! I thought this was the least worst, and it was only going to be until you could control yourself.’

‘I did control myself. I went to Hogwarts, I came here and could control myself, and you still treated me like garbage,’ said Harry coldly.

‘Not as badly as before though,’ Petunia pointed out.

‘I was locked in my room! Told to pretend I don’t exist!’

‘We were afraid it’d got back to what it was, and rightfully so, weren’t we? Look what happened to Marge! How were we to ever feel safe around you? And just now, taking your wand out of me!’

Harry fell quiet. He had to admit he’d given Petunia enough reasons to fear him, even when he couldn’t remember much of his childhood, certainly not ever having hurt another child, nor having done magic… but he could remember making Dudley fall into the snakes’ pond at the Zoo, or inflating Aunt Marge until she flew way above London. And just now he’d nearly lost it and pointed his wand at her again.

‘For your information,’ murmured Harry, ‘wizards lose control when they get furious. So it would’ve been far more practical to keep me happy, and to write to Dumbledore every time I did something scary. He would’ve come to talk to me if he had felt it was getting to bad, he would’ve helped me control it. And the Ministry of Magic would’ve appeared if things had gotten too out of control and they would’ve reversed any damage.’

‘We didn’t have that information. Look, I’m not asking for forgiveness,’ said Petunia.

‘Fuck’s sakes, I sure hope not.’

‘I just hope one day you understand that every bad thing I allowed to happen to you in this house was out of fear, of not knowing what to do, not knowing how to help you not end up like Lily, and being afraid for you and for those around you. Parenting doesn’t come with an instructions manual, I will admit I’ve done a lot wrong, maybe I’m just not smart enough… but if I could go back and do things differently, any better… I would,’ Petunia took Harry’s trunk and opened it, putting the album inside and closing it again. She then looked hesitantly at Harry. ‘And I want you to know I don’t want you to just disappear like Lily did. We’re family… and so long as you don’t use magic here—,’

‘You’re mad,’ said Harry, livid. ‘You have got to be mad to think that I… after all… with the memories I’ve got here…’ he shook his head, completely livid. ‘Bat shit crazy, that’s what you are, you bunch of psychopaths, you’re worst than…!’ Harry grabbed his trunk, pushed Petunia aside, and stormed off. He waved his wand to get his trunk to levitate down the stairs, yanked the door open, and disappeared outside, dragging his crib while his heart beat full of anger and fury, accelerated, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Chapter Text

Harry couldn’t believe the memories that had just resurfaced about his childhood, the stuff that had happened between him and the Dursleys, the beatings Vernon had given him… his fists clenched harder. And Petunia had the lack of shame to ask him to come back? To be a family?

But Harry had to admit he wasn’t just furious at the Dursleys. He was furious at himself, and a little scared, like he had been when he’d begun speaking Parseltongue . Not for the first time, Harry found himself wondering how much Voldemort had left in him, how much like him he was, after all, they’d been compared as being very similar many times… what if everyone was wrong about him, like they’d been about Tom Riddle? He had heard the horrible and cruel things Tom Riddle had done as a child, only to discover he, Harry, wasn’t so different… what if he ended up doing the same? What if he was just angry and cruel inside, if all this fury he felt… what if he was a dark wizard, even after everything?

For the past few days, Harry had spent regular amounts of times at Grimmauld Place. He either spent the night or visited during the day, and he had moved many of his things over to the house he owned. He’d put new charms and spells to try and make the house a little safer, and put Sneakoscopes everywhere to alert him and Kreacher immediately if a Death Eater happened to enter the house, but he still didn’t feel comfortable spending long amounts of time there, not to mention it was depressing. Kreacher didn’t mind being alone, as he spent most of his time chatting with the portrait of Walburga Black anyway, and he’d surprised Harry by magically removing the portrait —he was reminded of what Hermione always said to him, that house-elves were far more powerful than wizards often cared to understand— and putting it in a room Harry had given him. He was planning to ask Ron to move in with him, but not until the house was in better shape. Knowing he had to make it pretty for potential buyers, Harry wanted to repaint the whole house, change the wall-papers and the flooring, change the furniture or fix what could be fixed, and modernise the house to make it less dark, lugubrious, and Slytherin-like, but he still hadn’t found the time, and he didn’t think he would until after the trip.

But that night, Harry didn’t want to go to The Burrow, so he found himself at Grimmauld Place, lying on Sirius’s bed, wondering if he was a monster.

‘Master Harry hasn’t had dinner, Sir,’ said Kreacher through the door. ‘Kreacher brought a tray, Sir.’

‘I’m not hungry, Kreacher.’

The door opened and Kreacher came in and put the tray on top of Harry’s chest of drawers.

‘Maybe Master Harry will be hungry later,’ said Kreacher, looking unsure at him. ‘Is Master okay, Sir?’

Harry sighed deeply, and turned to Kreacher.

‘How do you cheer yourself up when you’re sad, Kreacher?’

‘Kreacher speaks to Mistress Walburga, Sir,’ said Kreacher. ‘Or cooks. Kreacher likes cooking. Sometimes Kreacher goes on a little trip, Kreacher likes seeing the beach, Sir.’

It was quite strange to imagine Kreacher at the beach, but Harry vowed to himself that he would be more like a friend to Kreacher, because his life sounded depressing.

‘Will you be okay here alone, while I’m away?’

Kreacher continued to get surprised whenever a wizard showed him kindness, so his eyes widened seeing he cared, and he nodded.

‘Kreacher has been invited to help at Hogwarts, Sir, so Kreacher might do it.’

‘That sounds good. Meet other elves, make friends like you,’ said Harry. ‘I’m going to go to sleep.’

‘Goodnight, Sir.’

‘Thank you. You too.’

Kreacher began to leave and, at the door, he turned, looking at Harry with his big old eyes. His massive eyes were more downcast than Dobby’s had been, his long nose more hooked, and his skin dangly with age.

‘Sir, you have friends. Friends are good when one’s sad.’

‘Thank you.’

After Kreacher left, Harry thought about it, and then he got up and walked to his desk, grabbing pen and parchment. Kreacher had given him an idea. He couldn’t talk to Sirius, he couldn’t talk to Dumbledore, but he still had a very intelligent friend, someone who pretty much knew as much as those men, or nearly as much, and who might be able to help.

“Dear Hermione,

How are things in Sydney? Ron has shown me some photographs you have sent and it has made us very cheerful to see you and your family being so happy together, so I hope everything is still going very well. He said that you will be back in the country by next week, and that then, he might visit you. I hope you’ll be able to visit us too, before Ginny and I leave. I reckon we still have a couple weeks for that, though.

I would not want to bother you during your holidays, so feel free to leave this letter for later if you’re busy having a good time, because I understand the importance of family time. But when you have a moment, I need your help with something.

I went to Private Drive tonight, I had left some stuff behind that I needed to retrieve for Ginny’s school year, mainly, and my aunt insisted on talking with me, and we ended up having a massive argument. I’m not proud to admit I took my wand out on her and I nearly hexed her. Once more, I let my anger get the best of me. There’s no need to chastise me, I already know how badly I messed up, and although no magic came out in the end, I will never set foot there again.

What made us fight so much was that Petunia insisted on talking about my childhood. It made me remember things I had forgotten years ago, some of them quite horrific, about the way I was treated in that house. Things I don’t want Ginny to know, because I’m not sure she won’t hex them, and she’s very good at that, as you know. It was like suddenly opening a box of hell that I thought long forgotten, and I couldn’t cope with it, I lost it… that’s why I got so angry. I instantly felt all the anger and outrage, remembering so much abuse and bad memories at once, and I shouted at her for all she had done and mostly, what she had let Vernon do to me for as long as I could remember, snapping at her, accusing her of things, shouting for having locked me in the Cupboard when I was still a toddler.

I guess that prompted Petunia to tell me things I had never known, things I don’t remember any more, because of how tiny I must have been. And she said… and I really don’t think she was lying or exaggerating things… that I was apparently very dangerous as a toddler. That I nearly drowned Dudley to death once at the beach, that I was kicked out of kindergarten for repeated abuse against other children, apparently things not too different from what I did to Aunt Marge when I was thirteen… and that those were the reasons why they locked me up in a Cupboard. Petunia said they were terrified of me, terrified I’d kill someone, terrified for the other children, terrified police would arrest me and I’d be sent to an asylum… and that when she tried to tell Dumbledore, wrote for him, he didn’t do anything. I suppose he must’ve thought it was nothing out of the normal involuntary magic on children, and that she was exaggerating, because she’d sent hostile letters before.

In any case, it made me remember that when Dumbledore was taking me through his memories, when he took me to the day he met Tom Riddle, they mentioned that Riddle had done similar stuff involuntarily as a child. That he’d hurt children. And it made me wonder… what if I’m more like him than I thought? What if I’m darker inside than I thought? Everyone always thought, even really intelligent people like Dumbledore or McGonagall, that Riddle was a good boy, that he would do great things… and look what he became. What if I’m the same? I didn’t know who else to talk about this with, now Dumbledore’s gone. I don’t want the Weasleys to be afraid of me and kick me out, but you’ve never been afraid of me, even when I gave you every reason for it, and you’re the smartest person alive I know. And I know we’ve been through this, when I thought Voldemort could possess me at will and that I had attacked Mr Weasley… but that was the Horcrux, right? This time… this is me being bad. I mean, I’m no longer a Horcrux and I still took my wand out against Petunia.

I don’t want to be alone with Ginny two months if I’m dangerous. I don’t know what to think, the stuff Petunia says I’ve done… seems out of a scary movie for real. What if I haven’t really changed? Or what if all this hell we’ve gone through has changed me for the worse?

Did your parents ever get scared of you when you were little? Did you ever hurt another kid?

Sorry again for interrupting your holidays. I hope you’re okay.

Love,

Harry xx ”

Harry folded the letter, and put it inside an envelope, which he sealed with wax. On the back of it, he scribbled: “ To Hermione J. Granger. Sydney, Australia. ” He then got up and rushed out of his bedroom.

‘Kreacher!’

With a loud crack! Kreacher appeared.

‘Yes, Master?’

‘D’you remember my friend Hermione? Stayed here with me a few months back?’

‘Of course. Bushy-haired, smart, treats Kreacher kindly.’

‘Yes, that’s her,’ Harry was thankful he didn’t say Muggleborn or something. ‘Can you apparate in Australia?’

‘Sure thing,’ said Kreacher like it was the easiest thing in the world.

‘Great. I need you to give this to Hermione, on hand,’ Harry gave Kreacher the letter. ‘Tell her it isn’t urgent, will you? It’s not urgent. It can wait,’ Kreacher nodded, taking the letter with reverence. ‘Thank you very much.’

It was eleven in the morning in Sydney, and so Kreacher Disapparated in front of his eyes. Harry returned to bed and, to his enormous surprise, Kreacher poked him awake barely two and a half hours later.

‘Kreacher?’ Harry turned the lamp on, putting on his glasses. ‘Wha…?’

‘Kreacher found Hermione Granger, Sir, and she was very happy to receive a letter from you, Sir, and quickly set to write an answer, Sir,’ Kreacher held up a scroll of parchment. ‘She said it was actually urgent, Sir, so Kreacher woke Master up.’

‘Oh, thank you, Kreacher. Thanks. Goodnight.’

As Kreacher left, Harry sat up in bed, excited to hear back so soon. Hermione had written a long answer, with her slightly cursive, neat, small handwriting.

“Dear Harry,

What a brilliant idea to use Kreacher! It’ll keep letters safer than owls, and is so much faster. I have given him some biscuits and tea while I write to you, because even though he said it wasn’t urgent, your letter does seem to require an urgent response, I think.

As for the first part of your letter… my family and I are very well, thank you. We are having some of the happiest days I remember us having since I first got news of Hogwarts, and I am loving being a big sister. I don’t remember having ever asked my parents to give me a little sibling, but now that I have Elaine it seems strange to think there was a world before her. She’s so funny, always smiles at everybody, and seems to have helped my parents in these months, even when she was still in the womb. And my parents seem to love having two girls, I have never seen them so packed with PDA and being so romantic!

We will arrive to London on the 18 ^th of May, it’s next Monday, but I will spend that Saturday at The Burrow . I have just gotten confirmation from Ron today, that his parents are okay with it. As for my family, they have invited you to come home to see us whenever you want after that, because we do need a few days to get the house back to normal. I don’t know how Kingsley has managed to retain the house for us, my parents had sold it… but I don’t know in which state we’ll find it. There may be zero furnishing, so we’re calculating there will be a lot to be done, not to mention we have to set up a room for Elaine. I think she should take my old room, after all, it’s the nicest one, and I won’t be there so much. In any case, once we’re all set, you can all come anytime and have tea or something, we don’t have much space for you guys to spend the night now that the guest room will have to become mine, but we can still spend the day and I can show you guys where I live, it’s rather beautiful there! Not as beautiful as The Burrow , though, of course, but still. If you don’t have time to come before you leave, the offer stands for whenever you come back. Since we had your birthday plans, and I hear you still insist on celebrating our birthdays together, Ron told me Arthur is going to ask Kingsley whether it would be okay to invite me and my family over for the celebration, as they already know about our world and have been in Diagon Alley and were at Hogwarts when I was petrified, so it might be okay with the Statute of Secrecy… in any case, I will be at The Burrow on the 31 ^st of July, and I am thinking of staying until I return to Hogwarts, and visiting my parents now and then, as I can easily Disapparate back and forth, and now they have Elaine, I wouldn’t be leaving them all alone. Besides, I reckon is not all fun and games trying to sleep with a four months old in the house.

I am also very excited for you and Ginny. I’ve been writing regularly with her and it sounds to me like both you and her really need to get out. As I shared with Ron… we both think it’ll do you a lot of good to get some fresh air and explore the world. In my experience, little things refresh me as much as travelling. Some days, when I’m playing with Elaine, visiting new places, it almost feels like I dreamed the whole war. It’s going to be strange to come back, I expect. And on the other hand, Ron wouldn’t dare to think of it, I don’t think, but I know you and Ginny could use some alone time, now you’re back together. I’ve given her some research, if you know what I’m hinting at, but please Harry, I expect you to be a gentleman. That’s all I will say on the subject.

Now, going to what’s really important now… Harry, I can’t insist enough, you are not a bad person. You don’t have a drop of evilness in you, you are nothing, absolutely nothing like Tom Riddle ever was. Tom Riddle was a brilliant student, Prefect, Head Boy, no interest in Quidditch, great in every subject, passionate about licking the arse of every teacher at Hogwarts, and he had formed his own little group of Death Eaters while still being underage. You are none of any of that, are you? The Sorting Hat wouldn’t even have hesitated about sending you to Gryffindor if it hadn’t felt the Horcrux in you. And similarly, I am convinced that whatever you did, it was all due to the Horcrux. Think about it. You were sharing your soul with Voldemort, who wouldn’t freak out and do some terrible stuff some times? If Dumbledore wasn’t worried enough to intervene, then don’t you worry yourself too much either. Besides, have you considered perhaps you struggled as a toddler because you didn’t have your parents? You must’ve been so confused, not to see them all of the sudden, and being with complete strangers, no Sirius, Remus… nobody you knew. Of course you would’ve lashed out sometimes. And even if you nearly killed someone… the mere fact that you feel terrible about the matter tells you how good of a person you are. Harry, it was an accident. Tom Riddle never learned to regret anything, to be sorry, to have remorse… you do. Don’t compare yourself to that monster, because the only thing you truly have in common, when you take the Horcruxes out, is the dark of the hair. And I’d argue yours is better.

I also hate the way you sound like you honestly think you’d ever bother me with writing to me about anything, even if it was a very stupid subject. Harry, you are my brother, my best friend, how could it ever bother me to hear from you, no matter what the topic is? I love letters, you know that, and I was very happy to hear from you. Please, don’t ever hesitate to contact me whenever you want to. And alternatively, I don’t think Ginny or Ron would be terrified. I think you should at least talk to Ginny, aside from me, because she’s your girlfriend, and you love each other, and she’d surprise you with the stuff she’s great at talking about. Trust me when I say you cannot scare Ginny Weasley away, which makes it wonderful news that she’s the girl you’ve chosen to date, and on the contrary, she’d feel worse if she knew you were hurting and hiding it from her. And she will know, even if none of us ever say it.

I would like to discuss what happened at the Dursleys better face to face soon. I will try and pay you an earlier visit as soon as I’m in London. I agree maybe Ginny and Ron shouldn’t know just yet what happened there, Merlin knows they’re wonderful people, but I wouldn’t put it past them to take revenge. I’m no psychologist and certainly no expert, but for the sounds of it, it seems like perhaps you suffered proper child abuse, or some sort of domestic abuse, and that you might’ve repressed those memories because they were too difficult to deal with when you were so young, but were triggered back by the conversation and the place, and they may be overwhelming you now because it’s a lot to face so all of a sudden. I’ll do some research here and see what I can find out, but I think you might also find out a lot of information with the Invisibility Cloak, sneaking into the libraries of the University of Oxford, the child psychology sections. It’s possible that if you understand better what you went through, you’ll understand better what you’re going through now, and feel somewhat better.

In any case, accidental magic in children, even brutal magic, can be perfectly normal. I know I pulled lots of stunts on my own as a small child, and even as a baby, and it took my parents a long time to run out of imagination for “logical” explanations and accept that weird stuff just happened around me, and it’d be their new normal. But as far as I am concerned, they never put a hand on me for any bad reason (personal Granger policy) and they found other ways to discipline me, although I was always respectful to the rules enough to not really need disciplining much. But when I did, it was usually the old take away something I like method. As for what they did when I did magical things being a bit older… I didn’t do too many things, and for the ones I did, my parents just assumed I was quite remarkable at magic tricks, and it’s how we used to call them. They’d gift me magic toys and all. I wasn’t punished for it, but then again, my parents had no reason to think I was doing real magic and therefore, weren’t terrified, and I never did anything terrifying, for what they’ve told me.

We’ll talk more when I’m there. In the meantime, please try to stay away from the Dursleys, and don’t blame yourself for almost losing control. I think anyone would have lost it in a circumstance like that and having in count what they’ve done to you, even when my knowledge barely scratches the surface of your memories, and I applaud you for having ultimately restrained yourself. I’m not sure I would have. Remember I’m the one who trapped Rita Skeeter in a jam jar for weeks and I threw angry birds at Ron, while being a bloody Prefect, on top of things.

Try not to isolate yourself at Grimmauld Place, Harry. Trust me, you’re no more dangerous to someone other than dark wizards than a sugar cube.

Love,

Hermione xxx ”

Harry read her letter three times, feeling a little better each time. If the smartest witch of his year was convinced he wasn’t dangerous, then she had to be right. Besides, she did make some good points. He was probably feisty because he missed his parents, because he didn’t understand, so he lost control of his magic. He wasn’t evil. He was just going through a lot.

The first thing Harry did in the morning, before breakfast, was to write a short reply to Hermione thanking her and expressing enthusiasm about seeing her again soon, assuring her he’d take her advice seriously. He gave that to Kreacher when he went downstairs for breakfast, and then he showered, put on Muggle clothes and his Invisibility Cloak, and went out into the Muggle world, apparating outside the University of Oxford. It took Harry a long while to find his way through corridors, between busy students and teachers running across the corridors, and around CCTV footage, trying to keep even his feet hidden under the cloak in spite of his height, which forced him to bow a little, and using a disillusioning charm just in case he might still be seen.

At last, Harry found the psychology section of the university and then, child psychology. Aware that he couldn’t just make books disappear too much, as the CCTV would see a hand appearing out of nowhere and disappearing with a book, Harry used his wand to copy every book that seemed interesting and shove the copies in his rucksack, trying hard to not be spotted by any camera, and not wanting to spend a second too long there, and as soon as he could, he left.

Harry strolled out under the sun into the stunning and peaceful Oxford Botanic Gardens, which he had never seen before, and sat comfortably on the grass with his back against a tree, cloak back in his rucksack, opening book after book and immersing himself in reading, skimming over the parts that didn’t seem interesting. He sat there for three hours, until he got tired and hungry, at which time he took a last stroll just to enjoy the fountains and the flowers and good weather, while eating some food he’d packed, and having stretched his legs, he sat again afterwards, picking a different spot in the gardens, and continued to read.

Hermione had been quite right, and Harry, who knew nothing about psychology, was surprised to find explanations enough. He had definitely suffered childhood trauma, to a great extent. He read it could be caused by many things: accidents, bullying, chaos or dysfunction at home such as domestic violence, parental illness, substance abuse or a parent being away a lot, death of a loved one, emotional abuse or neglect, physical abuse or neglect, separation from a parent or caregiver, sexual abuse, poverty, sudden and/or serious medical conditions, violence at home, school, or in the surroundings, and war and terrorism. And a lot of the child’s trauma could also come from the parents’ circumstances, because children were considered sponges who absorbed everything around them.

So if Harry spent his first year living pretty much locked in a house in an environment of yes, so much happiness and love, but also so much fear, he would have absorbed that and his parents would’ve made him feel safe, happy and comforted. If he was attacked, likely had a blurry sight of his mother’s murder, as he didn’t wear glasses then but was likely sight-impaired already, heard her scream as he remembered, and was suddenly ripped away from his world, from his home and from anyone he knew, and trust to strangers, that would all just add up. Harry would’ve arrived to the Dursleys quite a mess, traumatised and struggling, and unresolved, it would only get worse, making it more and more difficult for him to control his magic. As the child grows, Harry read, they might forget the exact memories that caused their behaviour, feelings and thoughts, but won’t forget those feelings and the consequences won’t vanish, meaning, one could forget the accident that caused them to become amputated, but the limb won’t grow back, and that person might still avoid places like where the accident happened without ever understanding, out of having forgotten the actual event, why those places terrify them and make them anxious and freak out. And it was easy to forget, not just because childhood memories were frequently foggy as one became older, but also because apparently, Harry read, once a child lived an event too hard to understand, they would repress it.

That explained why Harry remembered having spent his childhood frequently having nightmares in which he saw a green light blind him, and a woman screamed. It had taken him suffering his first dementor attack to understand he’d spent twelve years dreaming with his mother’s murder, a memory he’d repressed and that was trying to come back in dreams, where memories could resurface to help us deal with them.

Harry had likely lashed out at Dudley and other toddlers due to all he was mentally going through and later, Harry’s trauma had likely only gotten worse once the Dursleys had turned against him, people he had apparently loved and trusted at first, because of all the bullying, neglect, being trapped in a Cupboard, and the violence he’d suffered. The memories of being so severely abused by caretakers, people he’d gotten to know more than his parents and to love and feel safe with, the betrayal, had probably been too much for Harry to process aged three to eleven, so he had repressed them in the deepest of his mind. And he understood what Hermione meant with trigger as he kept reading. As it turns out, it seemed to work like lights activated by movement.

With these lights, the second they detect movement nearby they get “triggered” and turn on. Similarly, the environment, Petunia, or Petunia’s words could have acted as a trigger for Harry, bringing on all those lost memories in a heartbeat. But it didn’t mean that Harry hadn’t been suffering as if he remembered for seven years. The more he thought about it, the more Harry caught parts of himself that he could only understand now he remembered so much.

He had been so ready to leave with Hagrid, a complete stranger, because his previous caretakers had all disappeared or betrayed him and turned against him, so in his head Harry had no one to trust either way, and Hagrid had already shown him more kindness in one hour than the Dursleys in his recent memory. And there was a lot to say about the way Harry handled emotions too. For example the way he had always be ashamed of crying in public and tried not to do it, he now remembered Vernon used to beat him up whenever he cried, or the way whenever he was struggling he had a tendency to self-isolate, as, at Private Drive, he had always been shoved in the Cupboard whenever he lashed out or got upset. Even the way whenever he got angry he so easily lost control and felt like hitting something, and began to shout, it could also be explained if he had in count that as a child, whenever he got angry he was instantly shoved in the Cupboard, quite literally, by people afraid he’d start doing magic. He had never been allowed to feel, taught and explained feelings, emotions and how to deal with them and process them, and thus he’d developed no emotional intelligence, and still dealt with them like a little kid, erratically and stupidly.

With the early stage of a headache, Harry decided he wanted to go home, and that meant Ginny. He was mentally drained, and, he decided, he wanted a hug. So he Apparated out.

‘There you are!’ Ginny exclaimed, seeing Harry appear in the garden. She’d been watering the flowers, and dropped the watering can to run and hug Harry. ‘I was beginning to worry, I didn’t know you’d spend the night at Private Drive.’

Harry had inhaled deeply against her hair, his mood automatically improving with her perfume and her body against him, and leaned into her, nuzzling into her neck.

‘I’m sorry. Slept at Grimmauld Place,’ he murmured.

‘Why?’

‘I got worked-up, fought with Petunia. Wanted to be alone,’ admitted Harry, not letting her out of his arms just yet and hugging her tighter.

‘Are you okay? Did you get hurt?’

Harry smiled to himself. She cared.

‘I’m okay now,’ he separated and smiled fondly at her. ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Thanks,’ Ginny blushed. She was wearing normal stuff to tend to the garden, and had mud on her knees.

‘Can we cuddle for a bit somewhere?’ he felt like a child for asking, but Harry reminded himself that this was okay and necessary. He needed to learn to identify his emotions and what helped to deal with them, even if that meant sounding like a toddler.

But Ginny seemed quite pleasantly surprised, so she chuckled and nodded.

‘Let’s go upstairs. Mum has also been wondering where you were.’

They accepted a tray of cake and tea from Mrs Weasley and took it upstairs to Harry’s room, where they ate it and drunk it and, with a happy stomach, they snuggled on his bed. Ginny took the lead, sitting up over his blankets against his pillows and the headboard, and she motioned for Harry to come into her arms, sitting between her legs. Harry found a comfortable spot which his face against her clavicle, taking his glasses off, and within seconds, he was warm, comfortable, feeling well loved, and falling asleep.

That afternoon, Harry didn’t have a single nightmare.

Chapter Text

In the next few days, Harry dodged telling Ginny about the Dursleys, promising he would once they were on the trip. He figured that way he could prevent her from seriously hurting Vernon. In the meantime, things at The Burrow were slowly turning more and more cheerful, and Ron, Harry and Ginny would frequently play Quidditch and began often visiting Diagon Alley. Florean Fortescue’s daughter, Daniella Fortescue, had taken over the Ice-Cream Parlour, so it was a good place to visit, Ollivander was back in his wand shop, and other pubs and shops had begun to reopen. Even George had recently reopened, with Lee Jordan and Verity to help him, and was pushing through to continue doing what Fred would’ve wanted him to do, what they both loved most, so his family often visited to cheer him on and encourage him.

Harry had told Kingsley it’d take him a year to sell, so he and the Weasleys began working on Grimmauld Place with Kreacher, as everyone wanted to help Harry make it more amenable and cosy for the year he’d spend there, and aside from making the house better, Harry also had to plan the holidays with Ginny. Together they decided that if they could only visit Europe, then they would visit every European capital, and some other spots they read about in tourism magazines, like the magical areas of those countries, which made for a long list. They would travel from one country to another using Portkeys in magical tourism offices, a list of which Kingsley had provided, and within each country via apparition, mainly.

Mr Weasley had surprised Harry giving him Sirius’s motorcycle, all repaired and with new security gadgets on time for the trip, like seatbelts, adding helmets and removing the sidecar, so that Ginny and Harry could easily reduce the motorcycle to pen size and fit it in the rucksack to carry it around, then resize it at will and use it within the countries, especially whenever they were in the Muggle world, which quite excited Harry, who loved inheriting the bike from Sirius. It meant he had to learn to drive it, but having the entire countryside to practise, Harry had it dominated in a matter of days, and since Mr Weasley had charmed the plaque to change, depending on the country in which they were, and the maximum speed would automatically regulate itself depending on the law of the road they were in, so it would provide an excellent form of transport for them, and Harry could tell Mr Weasley had really worked hard on it knowing his daughter would be in it too.

Harry and Ginny were also cleaning up the tent and remodelling it for their stay, refilling kitchen cabinets, adding toilet paper in the bathroom, making sure they had enough of everything they would need and putting clean sheets. And in the little free time Harry had left, he went to Muggle London with Ginny to get themselves bathing suits, proper clothes for every country, and even a digital camera Harry could charm to get the photos into paper afterwards without needing a computer.

‘Not so uncomfortable after a few times, isn’t it?’ Harry asked Ginny cheerfully one morning close to their departure date, as they Apparated together at The Burrow. They had been practising joined apparition, because Ginny had only done it a couple times with her parents. Turning to her, she still looked nauseous and gave him a murderous look.

‘You don’t say,’ she mumbled.

‘Lucky we have the motorbike,’ Harry pulled a lock of red hair behind her ear and leaned to kiss her cheek. ‘Let’s get you sitting down, you’ve done brilliantly, really. You haven’t actually puked, that’s more than many can say, and no splinching, uh?’

Entering the house, they heard laughter coming out of the back, as the kitchen door to the garden was open, so with curiosity, they went over.

‘Mum, Dad, we’re home!’ Ginny shouted about. ‘Is everyone outside?’

‘Looks like.’

It was a Saturday afternoon, so they expected Mr Weasley to be home, but going out the back to where they had an outdoor table where they had dinner on fresh summer nights, they found not only Mr Weasley, but also a group of complete strangers. Hermione was there, her hair a little longer, but still not so long that it’d reach her shoulders, beaming bright next to a cheerful Ron, and sitting with who could only be the Grangers. Harry and Ginny had seen the Grangers on a handful of occasions years before, back when Hermione would go with them to Diagon Alley and they’d meet there, and age hadn’t changed them much.

Hermione was a lot like her father, William Granger; tall, slim, with the same facial structure and same brown eyes, except that he had short, slightly wavy hair, of a colour between light brown and strawberry-blonde. He sat chatting merrily with everyone, next to his ladies, completely clean-shaven and looking smart. Ginny and Ron therefore wasted no time, in the days in which the four were together at The Burrow, teasing Harry and Hermione that liking gingers must be in their DNA, so perhaps they really were siblings after all. Meredith Granger sat next to her husband, holding a chubby baby sitting on her lap and playing with a rattle toy. She had Hermione’s beauty, the smile, the ears, but a more curvaceous appearance, hazel eyes, and her hair, that seemed to be identical to Hermione’s, had been forced into a neat bun. With them were Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill and Fleur, and Percy, who seemed quite smitten to be in the company of people of a similar level of intelligence, as everyone assumed the Grangers, considering their daughter, had to be, and was animatedly chatting with Mr Granger. They were all nursing cups of tea and eating cake, and at the centre of the table there was a truly massive bouquet of colourful flowers in a vase that the Grangers must’ve brought, a large cake half of which was now missing, and a teapot.

‘I forgot today’s the Saturday Hermione mentioned,’ Harry murmured, surprised.

‘Harry, Ginny!’ Hermione spotted them and got up, rushing to hug Ginny, who hugged her back with enthusiasm.

‘Hi there!’ Ginny grinned. ‘I didn’t know you were coming! These men!’

The women giggled and Hermione turned to Harry and hugged her tight.

‘Sorry I couldn’t come sooner to talk to you,’ she whispered in her ear.

‘It’s all right, I’m doing better,’ he murmured in response, watching over her shoulder as Ginny went to shake hands with the Grangers and cheerfully “talk” with Elaine. ‘How are you? You look great!’ he added as they separated, exchanging smiles.

‘I feel great,’ replied Hermione. ‘And the house is just like I remembered it. I don’t know how Kingsley does it… anyway, he said it was okay for my family to come over, they wanted to see the Weasleys after Fred… well. They were very sad when I told them what happened. And since they’ve been at Diagon Alley or Hogwarts and keep the secret with us, Kingsley didn’t think it was a big deal for them to see The Burrow. They’re astonished, I’m telling you.’

Harry chuckled, and went over to shake hands as well.

‘Nice to see you again, Sir,’ said Harry greeting Mr Granger. ‘Not a long trip I hope?’

‘Just an interesting long train trip, no big deal. How are you Harry? We’ve heard you’ve been doing quite amazing stuff together,’ said Mr Granger, getting up from his seat, all smiles.

‘Whatever Hermione’s told you is greatly exaggerated to make me look good,’ joked Harry, ‘please, sit, sit…’

They all sat together once more.

‘Harry’s been getting Ginny accustomed to apparating and disapparating together,’ explained Mr Weasley to the Grangers, all smitten. ‘He’s taking her on a European trip, we’re very jealous!’ he joked with a laugh. ‘How did it go today, uh?’

‘I reckon that I don’t ever want to apparate again until the day we absolutely have to,’ said Ginny, and then explained to the Grangers. ‘It’s not really difficult, Harry does all the actual work and I just have to hold his hand, but it feels like your stomach is being kicked down a hill, at least for the first what, hundred times?’

‘Luckily Mr Weasley has prepared a motorbike for us,’ said Harry. ‘So we won’t have to do that much magic to move around. Should be more comfortable.’

‘So are you going to the non-magical Europe then?’ asked Mrs Granger with interest.

‘For the most part,’ Harry nodded. ‘Hermione said you’ve been to France a few times?’

Conversation then moved to France for a long while, until Elaine started to cry and Mrs Granger took her inside to breastfeed her and check her nappies.

‘How’s it been back home, Mr Granger? Must be exciting right?’ asked Ginny politely.

‘Oh, yes. Very stressful as well, particularly the flight… I’d completely forgotten how difficult it is to fly with newborns. Luckily Hermione’s ever so helpful,’ said Mr Granger, putting an arm around his daughter. ‘But we’ve gotten to see the family, they all think we were away on witness protection or something, so it’s okay. Could get our old jobs back, get back on the routine. And Mr Shacklebolt was so, so good to us, getting our house just the way we remembered it being. We’ve been very lucky. Hermione insisted Elaine takes her room, because it’s the nicest in the house, so we’ve been busy moving her to the guest room, although magic made it all much easier. And now we’re busy repainting and making Elaine her own nice nest. Which does remind me, Hermione said you two got married last summer, congratulations! How’s it been?’ he added towards Bill and Fleur, who were pleased to talk about their marriage for the next bit, until Mrs Granger came back with the baby.

‘Elaine’s so excited, there’s no way she’s having a nap today,’ said Mrs Granger, smiling as she passed the baby to Hermione, who had silently asked to have her for a bit. ‘Can’t blame her, your house is so beautiful. And this garden! Half these plants are completely news to me.’

‘Reckon half of them are exclusive of the magical world, Mum,’ said Hermione. ‘Not like Herbology is my best subject. You know, Harry’s got a godson Elaine’s age now.’

‘Technically, my godson is only a month old, but from the same year, yes,’ explained Harry. ‘Teddy.’

‘Oh really?’ Mrs Granger looked interesting. ‘How nice! Then maybe if Elaine also turns out to go to Hogwarts, they’ll end up being classmates.’

‘That would be so sweet,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘Teddy’s such a good boy, sweet, sweet baby. Poor thing lost his parents in the war, very dear friends of ours.’

‘His Dad was Professor Lupin, one of our teachers when we were in third year,’ said Hermione. ‘The one who taught us Patronuses.’

‘Ah, I remember. What a shame,’ said Mr Granger. ‘Must’ve been hard in your world, for what Hermione told us it sounds like it’s been a massive deal to happen, that battle, all the wars…’

‘Biggest deal in a century,’ said Percy with an air of knowledge. ‘But we’re recovering well. The Ministry’s the best it’s ever been, very friendly to mug— the non-magical community, and mixed people, you know, like Hermione, witch from a no magical family. Turning it all around for the best. We’ll come back stronger, I’m sure.’

‘That’s good,’ said Mrs Granger. ‘We were left a bit worried when Hermione updated us. If she wasn’t already old enough in both worlds to make her own choices, we might’ve been reluctant to sending her back to Hogwarts… but it’s her choice now, she’ll be nineteen in a few months, which for us… Muggles,’ she decided to use the term, not finding it offensive, ‘is more than adult enough. Legally she can now do anything, even get her own house if she so desired.’

‘Oh, Mum, I’ve pretty much sunk my savings, so…’ Hermione snorted. ‘Not buying houses anytime soon I’m afraid. But that’s all right, I’ll get a good job after Hogwarts. Something nice, and then I’ll spend all my money in you ball of cuteness, won’t I?’ her voice got progressively sillier as she turned to her sister, blowing a raspberry on her cheek.

‘Pity you can’t bring her to Hogwarts uh?’ Ron joked.

‘It’s so unfair,’ said Hermione. ‘Mum, Dad, you’re going to have to show her pictures of me every day, I don’t want her to forgive me. She’ll be almost a year old when I get back for Christmas.’ They laughed, and Harry got up to pour himself and Ginny some tea and have some cake.

It was truly nice to be with friends, two families reunited under the sun. Harry kept glancing at Ron, checking how he got on with the Grangers, and it all seemed great. Mr Granger would sometimes start a conversation with him, in which they’d smile frequently so it seemed nice, and Mrs Granger affectionately hugged Ron before the Grangers left to go to the hotel in the nearby village of Ottery St Catchpole, a few hours later. Hermione would accompany them to help with the baby, but would be right back via apparition to have dinner with them, but the rest of her family wanted to go and have good naps after the long train trip.

So once she came back, the four youngest friends went together to Ron’s bedroom in the attic to spend a rare moment the four of them together.

‘I’ll go back home with my parents tomorrow,’ said Hermione. ‘But I’ll come back at the end of July for good, and visit in the meantime. And you’ll visit next week, right?’ she added, putting an arm around Ron’s neck and kissing his cheek affectionately with a smirk, happy to be able to touch him again. Blushing, Ron nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist as they sat down.

‘Of course.’

‘I’ve got a gift for you two,’ said Harry, pulling out two key-chains, each of them with a couple keys, from his pockets, and giving them one to Hermione and one to Ron. ‘Keys for Grimmauld Place, in case you ever feel like there’s zero privacy here. Kreacher is happy to have you visit, and since Ginny and I will be away, it’s all yours.

‘Oh, thanks Harry,’ Ron took his key with enthusiasm.

‘I had Kreacher turn all the bedrooms except mine and Regulus’s into guest rooms,’ Harry explained. ‘Gotta say, he’s really making the house look nice.’

‘But you’re still set on selling,’ said Hermione to be sure.

‘Yes,’ Harry nodded. ‘I don’t even like spending too many hours there. Technically a Death Eater could walk in.’

‘They could walk in here too, mate,’ said Ron. ‘But really… they’re more scared of us now than we’re of them.’

‘It’s still Sirius’s last prison,’ said Harry, ‘and it’s still not my kind of home. But you’re welcome to it, I’ll give it away, I just want it off my hands.’

‘It’s actually tempting,’ Ron admitted thoughtfully. ‘I love it here, but Mum’s everywhere. And my room’s tiny.’

‘As a matter of fact, I was going to ask you to move in with me,’ said Harry. ‘The girls are all going back to Hogwarts, you and I aren’t. Doesn’t it make sense we’ll stick together? Especially if we’re going into the Aurors.’

‘That would be awesome!’ said Ron enthusiastically. ‘Boys’ house! We can stay up late and not give my Mum explanations every time we do anything.’

‘And you have to clean, cook, do your own laundry,’ added Ginny raising an eyebrow. ‘Some of those things for the first time, in your case.’

‘I know how to do all those things!’ Ron complained. ‘I’ve done them all before, smarty-pants!’

Ginny and Harry laughed that she’d gotten to him so easily, and the corners of Hermione’s lips twitched, shaking her head with amusement.

‘She’s just teasing you,’ said Hermione, kissing Ron’s cheek again. He turned around and kissed her lips, smiling into her mouth.

‘We could go have sex they won’t even notice,’ joked Ginny, and Ron abruptly separated from Hermione.

‘You WHAT?!’ The three laughed looking at how worked up Ron had so easily gotten. ‘That’s not funny! You don’t joke with that!’

‘Relax, Ron,’ Ginny rubbed tears of laughter off her eyes. ‘We’re not insane. Why have sex here when we’re about to be alone for two months?’ Not knowing if she was still teasingly playing around to get Ron worked-up or being serious, Harry blushed and didn’t laugh, and Ron paled.

‘You will not— you!’ Ron turned to Harry, raising a finger. ‘You’re not allowed to touch her! I did not give permission for—!’

‘Permission?’ Ginny had stopped laughing and gotten serious, scowling at her brother. ‘We do not need your permission for anything, Ronald. You’re not my Dad.’

‘Maybe I should tell our actual Dad then why you’re really going on holiday then,’ said Ron, glaring at his sister.

‘Oh fuck’s sakes why do you even care what we do? As if Harry didn’t just give you a house to have sex in and stop being so frigid! And Merlin knows what Lav-Lav and you have done at Hogwarts…’

‘I’m your big brother I don’t owe you a single explanation! And you’re sixteen, if you get pregnant because you were so bloody irresponsible then what do you think—,’

‘Oh now I’m going to get pregnant?! You’re ridiculous!’

‘Harry!’ Ron turned back to Ginny. ‘You’re so not having sex with my sister, do you hear me? I’ll punch you!’

Harry’s eyes widened, taking aback, but Ginny didn’t seem on board with de-escalating the situation, that had just started joking around and had quickly gotten too serious. She was too fed up with years of Ron bossing around with her relationships and undermining her to let go and calm down.

‘If you put a hand on my boyfriend I will jinx the hell out of you Ronald!’

‘You can’t even do magic outside Hogwarts!’

‘Until August! Which gives me three months to learn new jinxes!’

‘Ron, come on, she wasn’t serious…’ Hermione tried, putting a gentle hand on Ron’s arm.

‘No, Hermione, that’s enough, he’s always the same just because I’m kidding now it doesn’t mean it won’t be serious in a few months and then what Ron? You’ll put a chastity belt on me? Not let me have a bloody life, ever?!’ Ginny shouted angrily at Ron.

‘I might—!’ Ron began to shout, but Harry interrupted.

‘ENOUGH!’

It was so rare to hear Harry properly shout, that they all stopped automatically and looked surprised at her. Harry had gotten agitated with them.

‘No more fighting,’ said Harry more calmly, ‘both of you. All right?’

‘Are you seriously going to side with him? He’s controlling our lives, you can’t give him the right to—,’ Ginny tried to argue, but Harry stopped her.

‘No, Ginny, I said it’s enough,’ said Harry. ‘I’m not siding with anybody. I’m always going to be in the middle with you two, you’re my girlfriend and I love you, but Ginny, I literally owe my life to Ron, he’s my best friend, siding with any of you it’s always going to mean I either lose my girlfriend or my brother, and I’m not going to and you’re both stressing me out.’

‘I’m just fighting for our freedom to be adults and do whatever the heck we feel like,’ said Ginny with a scowl, outraged.

‘Well did anybody asked my opinion on the subject? Because this concerns two people,’ said Harry, and turned to Ron. ‘And that does mean you don’t have a say and we don’t owe you an explanation, Ron, and if you want to go tell your parents whatever and ruin a trip, then by all means do, but I really need to get out for my own brain, so at least know you’d be seriously screwing with me and I owe you, and you should trust me enough to know I’m not the kind of person to betray your parents’ trust. I made certain promises to them and I will abide by them because I’m a man of my word, but it’s not your business to know what I agreed or not with your parents, what our deal is, or what Ginny and I do or don’t do, and you shouldn’t meddle, I don’t meddle with you and Hermione and I’ve just given you a house, for Merlin’s sakes.’

‘Ginny’s literally my little sister mate, look—,’

‘She’s not your property,’ Harry pointed out. ‘And if you treat her like that, you’ll scare every boyfriend away, you’ll take love out of her life, do you really want that? Do you want her to be all alone forever or what?’

‘Well of course not, that’s—,’

‘Then trust me, will you? I think I have earned it,’ Ron shut up and nodded, sighing. Before Ginny looked too triumphant, Harry turned to her. ‘And I would appreciate it if you knew the limit of your jokes, Ginny. I was having a really nice night with my friends and my girlfriend, one of which I haven’t seen in weeks and I won’t see in months, and thanks to you taking jokes too fast now I’m pissed off, so thank you.’

‘Come on, Harry, he deserves it, if he didn’t get so worked up and meddled in what’s not his business…’

‘Are you fourteen or what?’ Harry asked full of frustration, and Ginny scowled again.

‘What?’

‘Behave your age,’ said Harry, done with it. ‘Learn that if you pick battles with Ron about you and I, and don’t deny you were doing just that, you know exactly how to work him up, you knew exactly what you were doing, then what you will do is lose me my best friend when Ron gets done with it and punches me. And his approval might mean nothing to you but I fucking care if my best friend doesn’t think I deserve dating his sister, I wouldn’t have dated you if he wasn’t okay with it, ever.’

‘That’s sexist and ridiculous.’

‘I disagree. I think is having respect for the only family I have left, Ginny. Where do you think I go when your parents stop welcoming me home because you put stupid ideas in their heads like we’re going to be fucking like rabbits for two months? It’s me who pays. Not you. So think who really pays your jokes.’

‘I have a right to defend my privacy and freedom Harry,’ said Ginny angrily.

‘I’m going to bed. Sorry about this Hermione, you deserved better,’ said Harry, and got up, frustrated with both Weasleys, and went to his room several floors downstairs.

He had put on his pyjamas and lied on the bed, when somebody knocked on his door, so he pretended to be asleep.

‘Harry, it’s me. I’m alone,’ came Hermione’s voice.

‘It’s open,’ Harry sat up as Hermione walked in, turning the light on.

‘So,’ she gave him a troubled expression, raising his eyebrows, ‘has it been like that ever since I left?’

‘No. They tease each other but… this is their first proper fight. Are they still going at it?’

‘No, you left them quiet quiet,’ said Hermione, walking over and sitting on the bed by his side. ‘So I told them that it was really not polite to have fights in front of guests, and that considering the circumstances and what everyone’s going through they should have a bit more respect for each other’s feelings and everyone else’s, and not start fights only weeks after we’ve buried Fred. I told them we love them both but that if this is how it’s going to be then you and I are in no state to take it, and I came over. Left them thinking. I mean it’s just their regular bickering, nothing new. They did it at Hogwarts sometimes and neither of us exploded over, so I was just trying for them to understand that circumstances have changed and now we don’t have the capacity to stand what we had no problem with before.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded. ‘I shouldn’t have shouted. Shouldn’t have lost it. I’ll have to apologise tomorrow.’

‘Are you sleeping?’

‘Occasionally I manage. You?’

‘With potions and pills,’ Hermione nodded. ‘Found a witch therapist in Diagon Alley, I’m going to start seeing her regularly. I hate being drugged, makes me drowsy and makes it hard to think clearly. Can’t focus enough on books or anything, have to reread letters as I answer them.’

‘Does Ron know?’

‘Yes. He’s doing better, thankfully. I mean he has the energy to fight.’

‘Did he tell you we had a bit of a brush the other day?’

‘A brush?’ Hermione frowned. ‘No. About Ginny?’

‘About you.’

‘Me?’ Harry told her what had happened at the tent days before. ‘Woah… I had no idea, I… well I don’t think, I’m not angry at you Harry—,’

‘I do owe you an apology,’ said Harry. ‘Or several. I mean… I’m really sorry, Hermione.’

‘It was an accident, you didn’t mean to say anything, and it’s only Lestrange’s fault—,’

‘I ruined your carefully planned protection, not her,’ said Harry. ‘Besides it’s not just that. I’m sorry I let Ron go, I know I should’ve just not listened to him and told him to take off the locket. I shouldn’t have gone along with what he was saying, we both said stupid stuff and at least he’s got the Horcrux excuse but I don’t. I let him get to me just like he lets Ginny get to him, I gave him credibility when deep inside I knew it was just the Horcrux talking, and I told him to go, and I hurt you. And when you accidentally broke my wand I kept being hostile with you, and over and over it’s just… you don’t deserve, you didn’t deserve—,’

‘It’s okay,’ Hermione put a gentle hand on his knee. ‘Hey. It’s okay. Really. No hard feelings. And you’re not really pissed off at them, are you?’

‘Only annoyed,’ admitted Harry. ‘Although Ginny will be proper furious by now, so… pray for me tomorrow?’

They laughed at the idea of Ginny actually jinxing Harry, although it was an actual possibility, realistically.

‘She has a point, though,’ said Harry. ‘What if this is how life always is? Because, I love her, I truly do, Hermione. Just the way she is, even when she annoys me,’ she smiled softly at Harry, ‘and I love Ron, you know, the way mates do, like we’re family.’

‘You are family.’

‘Yeah. But I can’t have him meddling in my sex life, and between you and I,’ Harry’s ears turned scarlet as he said it, ‘I’m a seventeen year old virgin with a very beautiful woman for a girlfriend.’ Hermione couldn’t help but laugh from the belly, cackling with his troubled expression. ‘Come on,’ he elbowed her, the corners of his mouth twitching, ‘Hermione if I don’t talk about sex with you then with whom? Is not like I have a Dad. We’re mates, we need to have someone to talk with about these things. Ron would kill me, and Arthur...’

‘Right,’ Hermione rubbed her eyes, deeply amused. ‘Right, sure. God, we English really are frigid, aren’t we?’

‘I’m afraid so. I think we still belong to the era of asking parents for someone’s hand, at heart. Especially these people in the magical world. So basically if I continue to date Ginny, Ron will at some point cut my balls off,’ said Harry, and Hermione snorted a laugh, ‘and if I don’t date her, then I won’t be happy. How am I going to survive two months with Ginny in a tent and not even touch her like…?’

‘I will admire your determination if you survive,’ Hermione admitted. ‘Although I spent nine months with Ron in a tent and didn’t jump his bones.’

‘You had Harry here to break the sexual tension, you’re welcome,’ joked Harry, and Hermione, giggled.

‘Thank you. So did you really promise Arthur…?’

‘That we wouldn’t share a bed, that we’d sleep in different rooms,’ said Harry.

‘Well you can get around that easily.’

‘I don’t want to get around that,’ said Harry. ‘I want to be the guy my girlfriend’s parents can trust to be alone with their underage daughter two months and not take advantage of their trust to spend two months having sex in a tent they lent him. I want to wait at least until she’s seventeen.’

‘Does she know that?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘You do realise the loophole in the plan then, don’t you?’

‘Yes. I should tell her,’ Harry frowned in concern. ‘Wait, but she talks to you, girls talk those things, and she can talk with you. So… what has she said? Does she think we’ll…?’

‘I think she’s under the impression you might get sexy, yes,’ said Hermione. ‘She did tell me things got a bit…’ she raised her eyebrows, blushing hard. ‘On the hill the other day?’

‘Oh fuck she told you that?!’ Harry was mortified.

‘Not in detail, I promise! All she said is you got a hard-on and she took care of it, clothes in between. That’s all.’

‘That’s pretty much all there is to know.’

‘Then yes she told me everything. But that’s fine,’ Hermione looked tenderly at him. ‘If it helps, I’m giving her some assistance with the stuff she does need to know so whenever you guys actually… she’ll be ready.’

‘I thought she’d done it with Dean. Not like she’s said, I just assumed… didn’t want to ask…’

‘She didn’t actually. She had the chance, she thought about it, came to tell me about it…’ Hermione admitted. ‘I’m like her big sister, so… I told her if she knew she loved you and it was you she wanted then, why give herself in such an intimate way to a guy she doesn’t feel so deeply for? So she didn’t do it.’

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. But she’ll be ready. She knows all there’s to know, and you’d do well to get some books yourself, there are libraries in Diagon Alley, you know? It’s not Hogwarts, but wizards don’t do condoms the way we do so… you should know your stuff and I think that is one thing I can’t talk about with you without getting completely mortified in your behalf.’

‘Yeah, no, I’ll do books. I’m learning to appreciate them.’

‘Good,’ they smiled at each other and Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

‘It’s great to have you back.’

‘It’s great to be back.’

Chapter Text

Still sitting on Harry’s bed, Harry glanced at Hermione, wondering how far could he go to find out things Ginny had never told him, and to be prepared for whenever he and Ginny actually took the big step.

‘So… if Ginny’s asking you, and you clearly know your stuff… I won’t tell Ron,’ said Harry. ‘But did you…?’

‘Have sex? Yes.’

‘Really?’ Harry looked sincerely surprised. ‘I always thought…’ Hermione laughed, shaking her head.

‘What Ron thinks. That a know-it-all like me wouldn’t have more sexual experience than someone like Ginny, but you forget I’m almost nineteen, and it seems like a very stupid age difference for most things, most of the time, but when it comes to relationships and intimacy… I’m ahead.’

‘Was it Krum then? Because if it was McLaggen, I don’t think I’ll ever respect you again,’ Harry joked, happy to have a moment with Hermione that felt much like two siblings sharing experiences, knowing he could never talk about his sex life with Ron, as it’d refer to his little sister.

‘Not McLaggen, no,’ Hermione blushed, then laughed. ‘God, he was a terrible kisser, sex with him would’ve been awful! No… Two guys, but you can never tell Ron. I’ll tell him when the time comes, we only just started dating, we won’t be having sex in your house. I want to do better with him and take our time, not be a stupid teen any more.’

‘All right, I won’t tell. Come on, spill it. Krum then.’

‘Viktor was the second,’ admitted Hermione. ‘First guy was a school friend, the summer before,’ Hermione admitted, blushing deeply.’

‘But you were fourteen!’

‘So? If a boy loses his virginity at fourteen is cool, if a girl does it, she’s a slut, is that? Besides, I was less than two months from fifteen...’

‘I didn’t say that. Okay, so who’s this guy? Boyfriend?’

‘No, no. Viktor was first there,’ said Hermione. ‘This guy’s my stupid mistake. Oliver, that’s his name, and I grew up together. He’s only months older than me, so he went a year above me with me being a September baby, his Dad and my Dad are best friends since university, both dentists, we’ve always gone to the same schools, lived in the same neighbourhood, our families are thick as knives. And Oliver’s really smart, handsome, good guy, funny… my parents were dying to us to get together, so were his. Maybe it would’ve happened, if I’d been a Muggle. So the summer before our fourth year, I had begun to attract male attention for the first time. I’d noticed on the beach, for example. And then I see Oliver’s treating me differently, looking at me differently… you know, staring.’

‘Of course.’

‘I knew he’d had a girlfriend once months before, but they were broken up. And now he was flirting with me and I was flattered,’ Hermione continued to blush, looking away. ‘So I didn’t shake him off. I liked the attention, and I was crushing on Ron and trying to forget about that, so I thought maybe I needed to let loose a little, just once. And when Oliver invited me to his birthday party with older people, I said yes. He took me home afterwards, and my parents had gone out for a couple days to a dentists’ conference in Bristol, yes there’s such a thing. Oliver knew, his Dad was going too, so maybe it had something to do with it all but… at my door, he kissed me and I kind of kissed him back.’

‘Kind of?’

‘Fine, I kissed him back.’

‘First kiss?’

‘Yes.’

‘Woah. Look at you,’ Harry teased playfully. ‘And you invited him in…’

‘And one thing led to the other,’ Hermione nodded. ‘Luckily he had a condom, although it wasn’t the most awesome night of my life I’d say. First times rarely are so great. Gave me a pregnancy scare afterwards.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, but it was nothing. False alarm,’ Hermione shrugged.

‘Was he still interested afterwards or was he just… taking advantage?’

‘Oh he’s never lost interest, but next time he went to kiss me, I stopped him. I realised I’d made a mistake and done things I wasn’t really ready for just out of… wanting to feel sexy and wanted. Teenage mistake,’ Hermione admitted. ‘I didn’t really like him like that so I rejected any more attempts of nothing and left for The Burrow to go to the Quidditch World Cup and forgot about Oliver. But a few months later when I was dating Viktor… the only thing I regret is having done it early in our relationship, but yes, we did it.’

‘At Hogwarts?’ Harry was astonished. ‘What if Snape had walked in?’ Hermione laughed.

‘Oh Harry you’d be surprised the amount of people who’ve done it at Hogwarts. Ron and I used to catch them constantly in our Prefect rounds, he’d get so mortified,’ she laughed.

‘He never told me.’

‘Probably didn’t want to give you ideas.’

‘So Krum was good?’

‘Very good,’ Hermione nodded. ‘Older, more experienced… magical contraception is more secure so I was less chickened out… no, everything about my relationship with Viktor has always been great. He’s a gentleman, truly.’

‘Not always. Wanted to flirt with Ginny at the wedding, I told him she had a scary boyfriend. He did respect that, though.’

‘Really?’ Hermione laughed. ‘Well he would. But he’s still a famous Quidditch player Harry, and an older guy, of course he’ll try to sleep with whoever he can. I’m telling you he acted like he really knew what he was doing.’

‘So you dated properly. I never knew.’

‘Couldn’t let Ron know,’ said Hermione. ‘I’ll admit it wasn’t the best move, to go for the one athlete he admired so much. But yeah, we dated for a short while, six months until he left. Friends since. But there was no love, we were basically friends with benefits. And nothing else since, aside from snogging Ron. Better like this. I think teenagers rush into things all the time,’ she added softly, ‘but in my experience… sex is great between friends, but between people who actually love each other, it must be mind-blowing, probably. And if you rush it with someone when you’ve only started dating them… is not the same. Is not as good. There’s no connection, it’s just…’ she shrugged, ‘it’s better later, trust me. Viktor and I did it thrice, the last shortly before the Third Task, and that one was the best one because by then, we actually cared about each other like good friends. It made all the difference, we both said it.’

‘Ginny and I love each other. We care.’

‘Yes,’ Hermione agreed. ‘But why would you be having sex now, Harry? Out of desire and love…? Or partly out of being emotionally hurt, the both of you? Because you should know Ginny’s using you so she doesn’t have to think of Fred, or the battle, or war, or all that went on at Hogwarts in our absence. She loves you, but she wouldn’t be having sex with you out of love and desire, not now, she’d be doing it to feel something other than the pain she’s secretly dealing with. And that’s not how you want your first time to be. And sex is not the one way to show love, you know that. Ron’s shown me more love in years of friendship than in a few weeks dating, because love’s in all the little things.’

‘So you’ve noticed?’

‘What?’

‘The way she’s hurting. I wasn’t sure it was in my head,’ said Harry. ‘It’s like tonight. She gets very worked up over little things. The other day for example, she got very upset just thinking of me not having said goodbye when I turned myself in to Voldemort, like, a little too upset, I feel… it’s like she’s always on the brink of something.’

‘I think we’ve all gotten a bit like that,’ Hermione nodded. ‘And these two are particularly hard to decipher. You and I are open books.’

‘Agreed.’

‘But Ginny’s so bloody stubborn, has to keep everything in and take care of everyone else, like Molly. And Ron… is like he didn’t think he had a right to be upset, like everyone else’s feelings have more value than his, he keeps telling me “don’t worry about me, I’m fine, is George who needs help”. Well excuse me but both do, everyone does. And then he snaps at his little sister, who he loves so much, when he knows she’s just messing around.’

‘We’re losing our heads.’

Hermione nodded slowly, and they shut up for a while, enjoying a comfortable silence, until Hermione nudged him.

‘I actually came here to talk about what you told me in the letter. How has it been going? You said the books were helping you.’

‘Yes. I’m better. I will tell Ginny once we’re away, maybe if I open up to her she’ll open up to me. I also feel better when I talk about it, even when I don’t tell her much… then I sleep better.’

‘Good,’ a corner in Hermione’s mouth twitched with satisfaction.

‘You could talk too, you know? We were all there,’ said Harry gently. ‘If you don’t want to talk with Ron to not make him feel bad, you can talk to me, I can take it. I know what the Cruciatus curse feels like, although I got it for much less time than you.’

‘When were you…?’

‘The night Voldemort killed Cedric.’

‘Oh,’ it dawned on Hermione, who frowned. ‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.’

‘You never told us.’

‘Yeah well… talking has never really been my forte.’

‘Yeah…’ Hermione sighed. ‘It’s not really… it’s not so much me needing to talk about that night. It’s more like when I dream of it, is like I’m back there,’ she tried to explain. ‘And it hurts the same way. The night just repeats itself in my head over and over, always the same way. And I can’t tell my parents. They cannot ever know how bad things got, I have to downplay everything or they’ll never rest calmly knowing I’m out there. I remember every detail of that night, Harry, up to the point when I was barely conscious and that’s where things get blurry, but the rest… crystal clear. But I don’t know what to talk about it, you know? It just happened.’

‘It’s good she didn’t do it so long you’d end up like the Longbottoms.’

‘Yes, one thing I got lucky about, I suppose. I just don’t know what to say about it that would make it better.’

‘What do you plan on telling the witch therapist?’

‘Don’t know,’ Hermione shrugged, truly lost. ‘Go along with whatever she comes up with. In the meantime, I know to focus on the little joys, like Elaine or Ron and… process torture slowly. You know actually, that’s one part that’s made me uneasy… knowing what drove the Longbottoms insane. The horror that for some people, like them… that pain is the last thing they’re aware of. Don’t you ever think of that?’

‘Not really. That night in the cemetery is in the group of memories I try not to think about,’ admitted Harry.

‘It’s all I can think about. Not so much the battle, that’s like… a fog of colour and screams,’ murmured Hermione. ‘But torture… I think of the cold stone floor, of that family just staring at me, those parents not caring I was someone’s daughter too… people hating me just for my dirty blood.’

‘Your blood isn’t dirty.’

‘You know what I mean. And Ron shouting my name,’ she smiled bitterly. ‘You know… I knew he loved me right then. I knew, and I remember thinking how cruel it was, for me to realise when I was going to die.’

‘But you didn’t die.’

‘Thanks to you and Dobby.’

Harry wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a half hug, her head against his shoulder and one of her arms lazily over his lap.

‘Next time you think of that night, maybe try to focus not on the torture, but the fact that you got out. Remember you have good friends who will always get you out of hell, no matter how hard it is, who won’t leave you behind. No chance,’ said Harry, making her smile small.

‘You really wouldn’t have left me behind?’

‘Never,’ promised Harry. ‘And we never will, if a situation ever arises. You’re just going to have to stand us for life.’

Hermione snorted a laugh and nodded, moving to kiss his cheek.

‘I truly hope so. And uh, so,’ Hermione shrugged, tentatively testing the waters, ‘how serious are you and Ginny… I mean, you seem quite… close? For a relatively new relationship. I thought you were taking things slow.

‘We are,’ Harry nodded. ‘I still have a lot of baggage to work out on my own, and so does she, and I think it’s better we do that without putting too much of it on the other. But once she goes to Hogwarts, we’ll be long distance, like you and Ron, so I want to take advantage of this time together and help her all I can while I can. Afterwards… we’ll see. But yeah. I think feelings have evolved surprisingly fast.’

‘Yeah. Not a bad thing though.’

‘It didn’t even happen now. I mean you know, you’re the first Ginny told it to, how she always had it for me, therefore, I guess she fell in love when I wasn’t even looking. But I think I figured it out while we were away. Because… there was so much going on, and I had a million things to worry about, and yet most nights all I could think of was Ginny. And I was sure when she was all I could think of when I was going to let Voldemort kill me.’

Hermione smiled softly.

‘Rather sweet.’

‘How about you?’ questioned Harry. ‘I suppose you love him, right? I mean, because you’ve been friends so long.’

His friend blushed furiously, looking away for a moment.

‘Well that’s a tricky one, isn’t it?’ she wondered. ‘I have always cared about him, from the start. I cared that the cutest boy in the train didn’t seem to give a damn about me, and not just that but mocked me and laughed about me with his friends behind my back. I cared that nothing I did impressed him even remotely. I don’t even know why a twelve year old should’ve cared so much, but I cared very much to make sure he’d think highly of me.’

‘Really? Is that why you were always showing off?’

‘No that’s ‘cause I can’t help being pedantic sometimes, and loving knowledge,’ said Hermione, and sniggered, into which Harry followed. ‘I suppose I did a bit like Ginny, so when I saw her being as silly as me, I had to offer her some advice, save her the trouble. Because I cared, and cared, and he didn’t even see it, we were just bickering all the time. And then I thought… maybe I should care differently. Maybe it’s less about showing off and hoping he’ll think greatly of me, and more about being myself and hoping it’ll be enough, and showing he can be himself too and it’s enough for me. Caring about the stuff he cared about. Quidditch, chess… whatever. But also by then we were all such good friends, I loved you both as such, and had to figure out what was the difference. Tricky.’

‘When did you know?’ Harry asked. ‘When he left? Or when Lavender…?’

‘No,’ replied Hermione. ‘Sooner. I kind of suspected it in our fourth year, because I was more excited about spending time with him than with the boy I was actually dating, and I didn’t want Ron to know I was actually dating Viktor, for some reason. But I didn’t want to admit it to myself, even. And then I was seeing him in Dumbledore’s Army…’ her ears turned bright scarlet, and Harry half smiled knowingly. ‘To tell you the truth I thought he had grown up so much and was becoming such a great man, and I kind of… I knew at the very least I really fancied him. I thought that was all, when he was with Lavender. That I really liked him, that I really fancied him, that he was my friend and of course I’d be loving and caring and protective towards him, it made sense… and maybe that was all.’

‘Maybe.’

‘But then we were fighting at Hogwarts, when the Death Eaters came, when you were with Dumbledore. He wanted me and Ginny to take all the Felix Felicis, you know? We had to insist for him to take it too. And at some point I heard a Greyback had gotten a Weasley, I think Ernie Macmillan said it, but he didn’t know which one, he said all he saw was the red hair and it being a man. I thought it was Ron, and I got so anguished so suddenly, I had to tell myself, girl, you’re in love or something. And then came all those summer days preparing to leave with you and thinking of how we would all survive, and no day passed by that my only consolation wasn’t knowing I’d be with Ron. I had to accept I was in love with him then. I have to accept it now. There really isn’t another explanation.’

‘If it helps… I think he’s rather in love too. I’ve never seen him like this about Lavender, or Fleur, or any other girl.’

Hermione looked at him, her lip twitching.

‘Well, I’ve no hurry to find out for sure. I’ve realised sometimes, with Ronald, he makes the wait quite worthwhile, you know? And besides… we have all the time in the world now, to just enjoy hanging out together, take our time. Now…’ she patted his thigh. ‘I’m going to give my boyfriend goodnight and go to bed. Told my parents I’ll be there first thing in the morning.’

‘All right. Goodnight.’

‘Sleep well,’ Hermione made it to the door and turned around, giving Harry a soft expression. ‘Don’t let the one you love ever fall asleep upset, will you?’

Harry nodded.

‘Never.’

So once she’d left, Harry put on his slippers and walked out of his bedroom, in the opposite direction to Hermione’s, downstairs. He knocked on Ginny’s door and, after waiting in vain for an answer for several moments, he opened the door and took a peek in the dark.

‘Ginny?’ he asked softly. ‘Are you asleep?’

Staring at her figure on the bed with the light that came from the corridor, Harry knew she wasn’t sleep. She looked far too tense, so he walked in, closing the door and turned the bedside lamp on, sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘I know you’re awake.’

‘Leave me alone,’ snapped Ginny.

‘Ginny, just because we had a disagreement and raised our voices a little, it doesn’t mean we leave each other alone and stop talking.’

‘Well I’m pissed off and this is my room, so you leave.’

‘Why are you so pissed off? Because I raised my voice at you? Because of the stuff I said?’

‘Because of everything. Because it’s always the same thing,’ said Ginny, sounding hoarse, like she’d been crying. ‘I’m always being shoved aside, I’m always the child, the underage, reduced to being a girl, and the youngest… and I get shouted at, and told where my place is, and chastised, and everyone gets to meddle in my life but I never have a say on anything. If it hadn’t been because you had a slip, I wouldn’t even have participated in the battle, I would’ve just been pushed aside while my entire family and my friends were fighting to live and getting killed just on the other side of the door. And then I’m somehow always guilty, it’s always my fault, always me who gets shouted at, even when I’m only protecting my own privacy and life, like I have no right for it! And coming from the jerks of my brothers, fine, but you? You’re supposed to be in my corner. You’re supposed to love me enough to stand by me, to choose me, to fight for me, to confront Ron for me if it’s what it takes, not to leave me alone and push me aside, not you too. And instead of doing that, you shouted at me, you turned against me, you blamed me for everything! Like it’s my fault! Like it’s my responsibility to protect your friendship with that twat, like I’m a threat to your friendship, that’s what I am! Well then you can go to hell, Harry Potter.’

Harry sighed and lied down on the edge of her bed, over the blankets, rolling to spoon her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

‘What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?’

‘Being in hell,’ said Harry. ‘You sent me to hell, and hell’s everywhere if the woman I love is so pissed at me,’ murmured Harry. ‘But you seem to be in hell too, and I don’t want you to be alone in it. So I’m going to be in hell… with you. Here.’

Ginny huffed.

‘D’you really think you can say a couple smooth things and it’s all fixed?’

‘No,’ he pressed his lips against the bit of skin of her shoulder that peeked out of the collar of her t-shirt.

‘Stop it then. I’ve told you to leave.’

‘I’m sorry I upset you,’ said Harry. ‘I’m sorry I made you feel like I’m not in your corner, or like I don’t care, or like… like Ron’s feelings matter more. It’s not like that, not truly, and if I haven’t expressed it properly is just because I’m still trying to find the balance between being your girlfriend and his friend. But your feelings matter to me, Ginny. You matter to me, and I don’t think you’re to blame for everything. So I’m sorry.’

‘Go away,’ she said again, her body tense and her voice hard. ‘Right now.’

‘Ginny—,’

‘Are you that blind, or deaf?!’ Ginny turned brusquely, sitting up and glaring at him with eyes full of hurt. ‘I’m telling you I’m pissed off, I’m telling you I don’t want you here, I’m telling you to leave, do I need to shout more?!’

‘Okay,’ Harry got up. ‘Okay… I just don’t want you to go to bed upset…’

‘Some things don’t get fixed before bedtime, and I am going to bed upset, I have gone to bed upset! And you’ve disregarded my feelings and ignored my wishes enough for one night, but I will not let you impose on me your wishes again!’

‘Impose on…?’ Harry was absolutely baffled. ‘When have I—?’

Ginny quickly grabbed her wand from the bedside table and pointed it to him, so that he shut up immediately, momentarily scared into silence. She was looking at him in a way that he had never thought she’d ever look at him, with pure hatred in her eyes.

‘Out,’ she snapped between gritted teeth.

‘All right,’ Harry nodded, stunned, and walked to the bed. ‘I’m sorry. Goodnight.’

They would fix it in the morning. They had to fix it in the morning.

Harry slept rather bad that night and, waking up on his own at the crack of dawn, he rushed over to Ginny’s room. They were separated by the second floor, where Hermione was the only one staying that night, and it was early enough that Harry only heard a bit of noise in Hermione’s room and over his head in Mr and Mrs Weasley’s, but most of the house was still sleeping.

Holding his breath in trepidation, Harry knocked several times on Ginny’s bedroom door.

‘Ginny? Can we talk if you’re awake? Ginny?’ he opened the door, and froze. ‘Ginny,’ she was still in bed, but the bed was covered in blood and Ginny looked to be asleep, pale as a sheet. ‘Ginny! Help!’ he ran too her. ‘Help! Hermione! Help!’

He threw the bedsheets aside, trying to find where the blood was coming from. A crack! Startled him and he turned to see Hermione had Apparated, still in her pyjamas.

‘Harry, what the— shit! Ginny, Accio Essence of Dittany!’ Hermione brandished her wand, and with his seeker reflexes, Harry grabbed the small bottle a moment later as it flew to them, while Hermione jumped on the bed, trying to find the injury with Harry.

‘Her wrist,’ Harry pointed out. It seemed where most of the blood was, already forming a crimson pool around her. Hermione took the Dittany from him and Ginny’s wrist and poured the liquid all over. Some smoke came out of it, and as Hermione cleaned the blood with her wand, they saw a long cut closing, fresh skin growing over it and looking like a days’ old wound. ‘She cut herself.’

‘With her wand,’ Hermione had found the wand on the bed beneath her own knee, and put it aside. ‘Ginny,’ she patted her face.

‘Is she…?’ Harry couldn’t bear to say.

‘No, she has a pulse,’ Hermione had pressed her fingers against the side of her neck. ‘She’s just passed out, she’s probably lost a lot of blood. Renervate!’

She pointed her wand at Ginny, by whom Harry had knelt on the floor, holding her healed wrist. Hermione’s previous cleaning had cleaned the bed as well, so it didn’t look like anything had happened when Mr and Mrs Weasley walked in, at the same time as Ginny’s eyes opened into dark slits and she emitted a groan.

‘Harry, was it you shouting? What’s going on?’ asked Mrs Weasley walking in her dressing robes, and then her eyes set on her daughter. There was no more blood, but she looked ashen and barely conscious, which altered her parents. ‘Ginny! What’s happened!’

‘She cut herself, Mrs Weasley,’ said Hermione, holding up the Essence of Dittany. ‘It’s all healed now, but she’s lost a lot of blood…’

‘Ginny,’ Harry patted her cheek gently. ‘Hey, look at me. Can you say anything? She’s going to pass out again, Hermione…’

‘We need to make her a Blood-Replenishing Potion,’ said Mr Weasley with a tone of urgency. ‘Come on, Molly, you’re the best at that. I’ll help you.’

‘But… but… why would she… it doesn’t make sense!’

‘We’ll stay with her,’ Hermione promised Mrs Weasley. ‘We’ll keep her going.’ Mr Weasley dragged his wife downstairs in a hurry, and Hermione turned to Harry. ‘What happened last night Harry?’

‘She was really angry, couldn’t get through to her. Shit, Hermione, is this my fault? Did she do this because of me?’

‘No, no,’ Hermione sat by Ginny against the headboard and pulled her into her arms, caressing her hair. ‘It’s just that there’s clearly more going on with her than we thought. Don’t blame yourself.’

‘But you were right, I shouldn’t have left her to go to bed upset.’

‘You can’t help someone who’s not ready to take the help,’ said Hermione, and turned to Ginny, patting her cheek so her closing eyes opened a little again. ‘Hey, you stay awake, uh? Look at me. It’s going to be okay.’

‘Hm… ione…’ Ginny whispered, barely audible.

‘I’m here,’ said Hermione sweetly, cradling her like a little sister and kissing her forehead. ‘You’ll be okay. Harry, pass me more blankets, we need to keep her warm.’

Harry opened the chest of drawers in the room and pulled out woollen blankets, taking them to Hermione, who wrapped Ginny in them like a baby against her chest. The only ones who had stayed the night were them and Ron, who was likely still sleeping four floors above. In shock, Harry sat at the feet of the bed, watching them. He couldn’t believe Ginny had hurt herself like that, and he was really trying to convince himself it hadn’t been to kill herself. It had to have been a mistake. Maybe she’d reached for her wand and accidentally done magic with her. She was underage. She wasn’t supposed to be doing magic outside Hogwarts, she’d receive a letter from the Ministry for that. It was absurd, it had to have been accidental.

It took Mrs Weasley a couple hours, but at last she came up with a bottle full of potion, and between her and Hermione, they gently coaxed Ginny into taking it slowly. As they did so, Mr Weasley came and asked Harry to come out with him. Not a second after they’d reached the kitchen, Mr Weasley grabbed Harry by the shoulders and looked into his eyes more severely than ever before.

‘Tell me what happened,’ said Mr Weasley.

‘I… last night,’ Harry gulped. ‘Ginny and Ron were bickering, and it turned into a fight, it was stupid, but the typical they usually have, nothing extraordinary. And I got in the middle to get them to stop, and some rough things were said. After that, I left to my room and Ginny was really angry, but Hermione tried to talk some sense into them and then she came and told me I shouldn’t let Ginny go to sleep upset.’

‘Right.’

‘So I went, I thought she was right. I tried to make amends, I apologised, but she was very hurt, very angry,’ Harry explained. ‘I got the impression it was bigger than our actual argument, that she was exploding about something else. Saying she was pissed she’s always treated like a little child by everyone and being undermined and shoved aside.’

‘Okay…’

‘So she kicked me out. And this morning I went to try again to make amends, and found her in a pool of bloods. I started shouting for help, I had heard movement in Hermione’s room on my way there so I knew she was awake and called for her, and she came and we found a large cut on Ginny’s wrist and her wand near her other hand. Hermione healed it with Dittany and cleaned the blood with her wand and that’s when you arrived.’

‘I see,’ Mr Weasley let go of him, tense and thoughtful. ‘Well, Ginny wouldn’t hurt herself. It must’ve been an accident, somehow…’

‘Maybe she had a nightmare and woke up and grabbed her wand. Like, sometimes people wake up agitated and punch in the air because they think they’re still dreaming,’ Harry hypothesised. ‘Perhaps she waved her wand and wasn’t looking where she was aiming at, maybe she called for help and we were sleeping.’

‘Yes,’ Mr Weasley nodded. ‘Surely. Who knows, maybe she saw a bug or something and thought it was something else… Merlin knows. Well, she’ll tell us. Thanks Harry, sorry I…’

‘No, it’s okay.’

They heard steps and Hermione reappeared.

‘Mrs Weasley is with her, she’ll be okay, she just needs to rest while her body gets the blood levels back to normal, it’ll be a few hours and she’ll be good enough to still be pissed at you,’ she teased Harry trying to ease the tension, and he smiled small.

‘Good, thanks Hermione. I better write to Kingsley before… oh there it is,’ a Ministry letter had just arrived, and he took it from the owl. ‘Well, luckily,’ he said as he read it, ‘it’s just a warning, and since she did it at home and not in the presence of Muggles, they’re not making a big deal out of it.’

‘I should go with her,’ said Harry, but Hermione stopped him by the arm.

‘Let’s let her Mum handle this one, okay?’ she said tenderly. ‘Let’s have breakfast.’

Reluctantly, Harry agreed and the three cooked together and sat together at the table. Ron arrived, yawning, right when Mr Weasley had gone to bring a tray up to Mrs Weasley and Ginny.

‘Good morning,’ said Ron, kissing Hermione and turning to Harry. ‘Hey, mate, sorry about last night. I overreacted, you’re both right… I need to back off a little. But please, just don’t…’

‘I won’t. Who knows, there might not be trip after all. And I’m sorry too.’

‘Why wouldn’t there be trip?’ Ron sat with Hermione, casually filling his plate from the table.

‘For one, Ginny is furious at me,’ said Harry, ‘and two… well… don’t freak out, your parents are with her and we really don’t know what happened, but it’s likely been an accident.’

‘What?’ Ron stopped eating and frowned at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Harry found Ginny hurt just a couple hours ago,’ said Hermione tenderly.

‘Hurt? Hurt how? Did anyone…?’

‘Nobody was there, I don’t think someone came in during the night and hurt her,’ said Harry. ‘But she had a long cut on her arm, and she’d bleed a lot. She’d passed out. It’s all fixed now, Hermione healed the cut in a heartbeat and your Mum’s given her a Blood-Replenishing Potion and she’ll be just fine, we’re just waiting while she rests and the potion does its job.’

‘Yes, she’s going to be fine,’ Hermione assured Ron, who’d gone white. ‘It was likely an accident.’

‘Ginny doesn’t have accidents like that,’ said Ron.

‘She also doesn’t hurt herself, does she?’ inquired Hermione. ‘Look, whatever happened… right now that’s not what matters. Right now our job is to support her whatever it is that she’s going through, whether it was an accident or not. She’s going to be weak for a day, we need to be there for her and not bombard her with questions she’s not ready for. I’ll get dressed and tell my parents to get back to London without me, I don’t want to leave if she’s going through something.’

‘Thanks,’ Ron saw Hermione go and turned to Harry. ‘How angry is Ginny at you exactly?’

‘I don’t know. She was livid,’ said Harry. ‘But the stuff she was saying… well, it made me think it wasn’t only about me any more. Like she was exploding about other stuff.’

Ron scowled deeply, no longer relaxed, sleepy and ready for breakfast, and looked uneasily at the ceiling as if he could see through to Ginny’s room. All they could do for now was hope it’d be all right.

Chapter Text

As the day progressed, Harry felt guilty and uneasy enough about the situation with Ginny to avoid being in the house. He fed the chickens, stayed out of sight from Ginny’s window, picked up the apples in the garden, helped Mrs Weasley cooking when she came down the stairs after a couple hours, and finished preparing the tent for the trip, although he doubted the whole thing would actually happen. He didn’t know where he and Ginny stood. He’d thought it was a small fight, no big deal, but if Ginny had cut herself because of it… because as much as he kept trying to tell himself it couldn’t be, the other explanations seemed too forced. So if she had, then… what if things were worse than he thought? What if she truly didn’t want him any more?

Harry was done preparing the tent, but he still sat inside of it, not wanting to get back into The Burrow. They had set it up in the garden so that Harry and Ginny could easily go in and out to get it ready, and now that it was shiny, organised and well stocked, all he could do was sit on the couple wooden steps inside of it that led to the kitchen, looking down, and trying not to be anguished for his relationship. As he was there, the tent opened and he looked up, hoping to see Ginny. Instead, he saw Ron and Hermione, looking rather insecure.

‘Is she okay?’ asked Harry.

‘Well uh…’ Hermione looked unsure at Ron and sat by Harry, while Ron dragged one of the tent’s foldable chairs to them. ‘We were talking to her. She’s feeling better, or so she says. And she insists that it was an accident; that she’d fallen asleep with her wand in her hand because she picked-up the habit during the last few months of war and hasn’t gotten rid of it, and she claims that she must’ve done magic by accident in her sleep, she says she didn’t even realise what had happened, that the first news of having been wounded came from her Mum when she woke up after we gave her the potion.’

‘But we don’t believe crap,’ said Ron. ‘I know Ginny, she’s a terrible liar, she can’t look at you in the eyes and lie unless it’s a life or death situation. You saw how horrible she was at lying and making excuses for Umbridge’s favourite students when she was at Hogwarts, you know it.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded. ‘Your parents spoke with her then?’

‘They’ve tried to get her to give a different version, but she’s quite stubborn,’ replied Ron. ‘Still, we’ve all told her that if she needs any help, if she’s struggling with something… we said we were only saying because of the fighting last night, that you’d told us she was very upset, so that if she needs to talk, we’re all there for her, anything she needs. But Mum reckons if anyone can get to the bottom of this, is you. So she’s alone now, if you want to talk to her.’

‘Right,’ Harry nodded again, but didn’t make a move, so Hermione nudged him with her elbow.

‘What is it?’ she asked, and Harry puffed.

‘She told me to leave like, a bunch of times, last night. Aimed her wand at me,’ explained Harry. ‘She doesn’t want to see me.’

‘That was last night, not know. And you went in this morning,’ said Ron.’

‘Yes, but that was before there was a chance she’s self-harmed due to whatever I did, Ron. What if this is on me? She could be dead, I don’t want to go in there and make it all worse,’ said Harry.

‘So what are you going to do? Hide here just because you might make it worse?’ Ron asked rhetorically, looking into his eyes. ‘Last night you didn’t want me to meddle, well, I won’t. But she’s your girlfriend Harry, and that means you’ve got to take care of her, and if something is wrong with her and she’s shutting her family out… you’re the only thing left. So grow a pair and go talk to her, she’s not a dragon and you’ve done those, for Merlin’s sakes.’

‘Fine, fine,’ Harry got up, walked two steps and then turned around. ‘Where do I even start?’

‘You speak with your heart,’ said Hermione with a tender smile. ‘That tends to help.’

Harry nodded and took a deep breath, feeling like he was going to a duel. As he entered The Burrow, Mr and Mrs Weasley gave him encouraging gestures, which only seemed to strengthen that feeling, and Harry walked up the stairs to Ginny’s room in the first floor, nervously knocking on the wooden door. After a moment, the door opened and Ginny looked at him. She was dressed and ready for the day and although still a bit pale, so that her freckles seemed darker, she looked healthy. As she looked at him, she seemed slightly anxious, but also, or at least it was Harry’s impression, weirdly embarrassed and shy.

‘I was thinking it might be you. Come in,’ she moved aside, holding the door open, and Harry walked in, so that she closed the door behind him. ‘As I told everyone already, it was an accident, I’m sorry I gave you a scare. I fell asleep with my wand, I must’ve gotten sparks out of it or something in the night, miracle I didn’t set the bedroom on fire. I won’t do it again, Dad already gave me the wands and safety talk.’

‘Okay,’ Harry stood awkwardly. ‘Can I sit down?’

‘Sure.’

He picked the desk chair and Ginny chose to sit near him on her bed, that was now all made.

‘So… I did it all wrong last night,’ said Harry.

‘No, Harry—,’

‘Would you please let me start over?’ Ginny looked at him with the mouth open to say something, but closed it and nodded. ‘Look, I’ll go straight to the point. Ginny, I am so in love with you, I truly am. I know because I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and this morning when I thought I was late and you were dead… it was like my entire world had crumbled down to ashes,’ said Harry, painfully honest, deciding to lead with Hermione’s advise. ‘You are my family. You, the rest of you Weasleys, Hermione… but you too. And I would much rather have you as a friend, belonging to my family in this sort, and you be okay and happy then have you hate me and kick me out. I know I didn’t do things right last night, but I want to have a relationship where we can fight and make up, where a stupid disagreement or argument doesn’t make my girlfriend think I’m against her, because I won’t always agree with you, but I will always love you regardless, and if you let me, I can show you. If you let me, you’ll see how much in your corner I am maybe not on a stupid argument or a Quidditch game two versus two, but on all the big things, I am, because I’m the guy who would happily stand between you and death, that’ll pick you up from the ashes if he has to, and that wants to take you all around the world with him when I could be doing it alone. And disagreeing on something with you… it doesn’t make me disloyal. It doesn’t make me love you less. It just means I’m not afraid of you, that I feel comfortable enough to disagree. I’m your guy, for better, for worse… but only as long as you want me. So if you no longer want this, if you still want me to go and leave you alone, if you’re done here… then tell me and I will let you go because I love you enough to let my heart break if being single is what you need right now.’

Ginny looked shocked at him for a moment and, when Harry was about to leave and let her with her thoughts, she took his hand and pulled him to sit on the bed with her, keeping his hand in hers.

‘I don’t want you to go,’ she said. ‘I did it all wrong last night myself. I shouldn’t have kicked you out. All I could see was treason and betrayal and I don’t know why… but that’s why I needed you gone last night. And I made a mistake. And I’m sorry and I don’t want you to go anywhere. I know you love me. I love you. I’m sorry it didn’t look like it.’

‘If you love me…’ he looked into her eyes, wrapping his hands around hers. ‘Tell me why you hurt yourself.’

‘But I didn’t.’

‘Ginny,’ Harry looked pleadingly at her, ‘I was the first to arrive. You could only have been bleeding for a few minutes because otherwise, with the size of that cut that only Hermione and I saw, you would’ve been dead already. So the sun was out when that cut first appeared, which means that you didn’t do it while asleep, because if you had truly fallen asleep with your wand… you would’ve held it until your hand relaxed, and the wand would’ve wound up between the sheets. And you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I know, because I’ve been sleeping with my wand for nine months, as have Hermione and Ron, and none of us ever got injured, in spite of my horrible Voldemort nightmares. So please… don’t lie to me. I won’t tell if you don’t want me to, but I can’t help you if you lie.’

‘I just… I don’t know what to say… I don’t know what happened.’

‘You don’t know?’

Ginny shrugged, and she seemed so small.

‘I woke up still upset. I just felt terrible, but I couldn’t pinpoint why,’ said Ginny. ‘I didn’t know if I was mainly angry at you, or if I was sad, or anguished, or… it just felt like everything at once but I didn’t understand why. It didn’t feel logical. And then I started crying and… for some reason I took my wand and… I just felt so much pain that maybe I thought if I saw a physical reason for it it’d make sense. I don’t know, it all sounds so stupid now.’

‘It’s not stupid,’ Harry moved a hand to caress her face. ‘I feel like punching stuff sometimes, even when I know it’s going to hurt. I think sometimes things hurt so much inside that we need to put it outside somehow and sometimes, that’s the most intelligent way of doing it we can come up with.’

‘I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t want my family to think… I don’t want to hurt myself again, I don’t see why I should put them through more anguish.’

‘Okay,’ Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. ‘But talk to me next time you feel like that, will you? And if you can’t talk… just come.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Walk across the river?’

‘Yes please. But first,’ Ginny took his face in her hands, and kissed him hard on the lips. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Well I did but… I regret it now.’

Harry snorted a laugh and Ginny’s lips twitched.

‘Thanks for your honesty.’

‘Thanks for not giving up on me.’

‘Never. Just like you never gave up on me.’

The days until the beginning of their trip couldn’t come fast enough. Hermione was back home, but Ron visited her daily and, on one occasion, Harry and Ginny joined him, but they preferred not to because they could tell their friends needed some time alone. And at last, when the first of June came, Hermione came to The Burrow to join the Weasleys into biding them goodbye. Harry and Ginny were each carrying a very full rucksack, smiling broadly, and ready for the fifty-nine territories they were going to see in sixty days. It was going to be a challenge, but they would be ready for it.

‘We’ll write all the time!’ Ginny promised, waving with a beaming smile on her face as she and Harry began to walk away, hand in hand.

‘Take care of my sister Potter!’ Ron shouted, but he was smirking and waving goodbye. Harry gave him a thumbs up to signal he heard, and, grinning, Disapparated with Ginny.

Next thing they knew, the couple was in central London, hidden in an alley. With the knowledge of someone who’s been studying their plan with detail, Harry and Ginny walked together, hand-in-hand, out of the alley and into a large avenue, across which they saw the massive buildings of King’s Cross and St Pancras Station.

‘It’s like going back to Hogwarts,’ said Ginny.

‘Yeah. Let’s go.’

Dressed as Muggles, they crossed the avenue and entered the station. It took them a while to find the right platform, and to get there they had to pass through the Muggle electronic card readers. Harry and Ginny pulled their magical tickets out of their pockets and, ensuring they covered them with their hand as they went so the Muggles wouldn’t suspect, they pressed them against the card reader, that opened all the same, and they walked together to the platforms. Their was platform was the 8 2/4, so they stood by the column and looked around. It was very crowded on a very early Monday morning.

‘Right,’ said Ginny. ‘Cloak?’

‘We’ll be a sudden disappearance all the same. I’ve got an idea, follow my lead,’ Harry wrapped his arms around her, putting her against the brick column and, with a last glance around, he began making out with Ginny like his life depended on it, catching her off guard. He gave her a little push, and the wall gave away, but before Ginny could fall backwards, Harry had caught her, grinning. ‘And we made it.’

Ginny looked around and saw the steam open to show a large navy blue steam train with a giant Portuguese flag on its side.

‘I love magic.’

‘Me too.’

Harry and Ginny were carrying both a rucksack each and their large Hogwarts trunks, mainly because they were very resistant and had a huge capacity, and since they couldn’t do what Hermione had done to her beaded bag, because it was illegal, they needed as much capacity as possible. Harry had reduced Sirius’s motorbike and fit it in his rucksack, but the tent went in his trunk, as it was a tent that was very small and became magically big in the inside, and most of their thick woollen clothes for cold places went in Ginny’s. Luckily, everything that went inside the tent magically disappeared with it when they disassembled it, so at least they didn’t have to carry around pans and pots.

As the couple made it into the train through one of the doors, they could hear Portuguese left and right. At the door, a guard requested their documentation and they showed their recently obtained passports of the magical United Kingdom, which were golden and had the British flag in the middle with two wands crossing on top. All the magical passports were the same, coordinated by the International Confederation of Wizards, and the flag and language were the only things that changed. Upon seeing Harry’s passport, the guard looked up, curious.

‘Mr Potter, what an honour,’ said the guard, blinking rapidly, and moved aside. ‘Welcome to the Portugal Express.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Harry, and followed Ginny into the First Class carriage.

‘Harry,’ Ginny gasped, looking around as they entered their private compartment. Their bench seats looked incredibly comfortable and had the look of chaise longue chairs with tons of pillows and blankets, the compartment was bigger than the Hogwarts Express ones, and there was a table in the middle with menus on top. Everything was pristine clean and smelled nicely. ‘This is amazing. It must’ve cost a fortune.’

Harry placed his rucksack on one of the seats and hugged Ginny from behind, as she’d already dropped her own rucksack.

‘I don’t scrimp when it comes to the woman I love,’ he said sweetly, and she turned, grinning to him.

‘You know I’d be perfectly happy going in the normal seats.’

‘Yes but this isn’t a normal trip. It’s exceptional, all of it,’ Harry kissed her and grinned, passing her a menu. ‘Now pick your breakfast, make it good, it’s all paid for.’

Although the train trip to Hogsmeade for Hogwarts took seven hours, it was different between London and Lisbon, because this train was a high speed international train, whereas the Hogwarts Express was a normal train. There were also normal trains to travel to Lisbon that took fourteen hours, the slowest ones, of course, but because they wanted to see so many territories in such little amount of time, Harry had booked all their trains in high speed, even when sometimes the prizes could double and even quadruple the normal fares, which meant they would be in Lisbon in the afternoon.

Harry was fairly intrigued by how the train went in a straight line, when they were in an island, but he soon figured it out, as they watched, transfixed, how the train arrived to a beach and dove underwater. Further intrigued, Harry opened the window, and the water didn’t get inside. They could see the fish like they were in the aquarium, and Harry tried to touch the water, but it was like there was a thin, solid, invisible wall between them.

‘I love magic,’ said Harry with an expression of utter amazement.

‘I love watching you discover how awesome it is over and over again,’ said Ginny, and held up two glasses of Firewhiskey they had, by then, obtained. ‘To us.’

‘To us,’ Harry toasted with her and drank from his glass, grinning at her before leaning in and kissing her.

They had calculated their trip so that they would visit each country of the European continent and some territories in it or that were partially in it, but they wouldn’t see the whole of the country. They picked a different town to be in each day, or an island, or sometimes two in one day, if they were very close together, therefore spending on average one to four days in each country. They’d start with Portugal, Spain, South France, Italy and all the Mediterranean countries, go up through the East, and turn back towards the West following the Northern route, finishing in Ireland, and the following morning, of Harry’s eighteenth birthday, they would be back at The Burrow .

So their first days of holiday saw Harry and Ginny enjoying sunny Atlantic beaches, seeing each other in bathing suits for the first time. Harry, who’d never gone to the beach since being a toddler, as he’d discovered from Petunia, was happy to set their tent on a discreet little bay that to the Muggles was near impossible to access due to the difficult geography of the terrain, with steep cliffs, but not to them. He put on his new trunks and covered his body with thick layers of magical sun-cream, which was supposed to be better than the Muggle one, allowing for a soft tan.

‘Ginny, would you please do my back?’ Harry asked towards the curtain that separated Ginny’s bedroom. True to his word, he’d made sure they would sleep in different parts of the tent.

‘Coming!’ Ginny threw the curtain open and Harry swore out loud.

Ginny looked incredible, to say the least. She’d put her long red hair into a high ponytail so the hair wouldn’t get in the middle as she was diving but also so the bun wouldn’t bother her when she was lying down suntanning, and she was wearing a bikini that should be illegal, as it left very little to the imagination. Harry, who had never before seen Ginny in such little amount of clothes, couldn’t take his eyes off miles of freckles through pale pinkish skin, the long legs, the curves he hadn’t noticed she had, the small breasts and the knowing smirk the ginger was wearing as she leaned against the post. She wanted to kill him.

Harry felt his throat dry, his blood between his legs, and opened and closed his mouth several times without saying anything, making her chuckle.

‘Wow, thanks Harry, you look very nice too,’ said Ginny, not hiding her enjoyment in getting to see Harry shirtless for the very first time, her eyes going through his scars, his chest covered in dark hair that formed a trail to his bellybutton and below, and the new fine muscles that she was sure couldn’t have always been there, but also thoroughly enjoying his own reaction. ‘So,’ she vaguely gestured to his trunks, ‘that’s going to be a problem the whole trip, uh? Come on, I’ll wait outside to put the cream on you.’

She left Harry struggling to breathe and went out into the beach, grinning at the sun and the amazing views as she outstretched her arms in enjoyment. She was so happy and excited with the trip, but she had to admit she was glad she was a woman, because she had also gotten a bit too excited. Nothing the water wouldn’t hide.

Once Harry had rearranged himself and put himself together, he came back out, shaking his head in disbelief.

‘You will be the death of me, Ginevra Weasley. Going around looking like a model.’

‘Why thank you! Come,’ Ginny grinned, taking the sun-cream, ‘I’ll do you and you do me. You’ve gotten really fit,’ she commented as her hands massaged his muscled back. He was milky pale and had the odd mole here and there, so she made sure to be generous with the cream to try and prevent him being roasted on day one.

‘I’ll have you know,’ said Harry. ‘I’m actively thinking of Umbridge in a bikini right now.’

He was doing so to prevent himself getting too excited again, and Ginny knew, so she began laughing hysterically and Harry joined, his back to her as she continued trying to apply the cream.

‘You’re really set on doing as you promised, aren’t you?’ she commented.

‘No funny business until you’re seventeen, Ginny, that’s the deal,’ said Harry. ‘Not like your Dad put it with those words but… I did say I wouldn’t sleep where you slept throughout this whole trip, and I plan on doing as I said.’

‘A man of his word,’ she kissed the nape of his neck, looking for a spot without cream. ‘Come on, your turn.’

As they jumped around on the beach, they were like children again, splashing each other, laughing, pushing each other into the water and using charms that generated an air bubble around their heads to dive as deep as they could, to see the beauty under the water, in spite of the dirt. They had lunch in Lisbon, dinner in a beach bar overlooking the ocean in the South of Portugal, and in the morning they were having tomato toasts and drinking gazpacho in Tenerife Island, exploring Seville by lunch time, exploring the King’s Walk of Malaga in the afternoon, zigzagging through paths that were attached to walls of cliffs, and having dinner in a bonfire Harry prepared in the most isolated, cleanest beach they’d ever seen behind the mountains of Almeria.

By then, they were both feeling quite relaxed, and like entirely new people, as if they had resuscitated. Ginny was sitting at the door of the tent, this time clothed, watching lovingly as Harry enjoyed himself lighting up a bonfire the Muggle way “just to see I can do it!” and then putting sardines to cook on a rack over it.

‘Smell that! Aha! Lovely!’ Harry shouted, chuckling with himself. Ginny had never in her life seen him look so free, so unconcerned, having pure fun without anything dark or remotely stressful in the back of his mind. He was wearing a Hawaiian style shirt, open, even though it was quite cold at night, and warming himself with the fire as he looked up at the stars.

‘I love you,’ murmured Ginny, even when he couldn’t hear her. ‘You don’t even imagine how much.’

‘Señorita,’ Harry came over to Ginny, grinning and extending his sardine-stinking hands towards her. ‘A dance, por favor.’

Ginny laughed, taking his hands to get up.

‘But there’s no music.’

‘Of course there is,’ argued Harry, spinning her around, and he began to hum, mostly out of tune, to some song they had heard in a Muggle bar during the day. Ginny laughed, dancing with him, and as they waltzed, they looked up at the stars and stopped moving, the sound of the waves and the fire in the background.

And then they were staring at each other, emerald green and brown, and it was like the world around them had disappeared completely.

‘My heart’s whole, Ginny,’ Harry murmured.

‘Thank Merlin for that, I’m done with funerals for at least a decade,’ said Ginny with half a smile.

‘No,’ Harry shook his head. ‘It’s super sappy but… I mean, because you’re here. Otherwise… it’d feel like I left it in England and I wouldn’t enjoy any of this. So thank you for coming with me.’

‘You’re right,’ murmured Ginny. ‘It’s super sappy,’ she caressed his face, for once clean-shaven, ‘but after all we’ve gone through, I’m happy with super sappy.’

‘Yeah?’ she nodded, and kissed him softly, her chest pressing against his so that she could feel his rapid heartbeat next to hers, regulating each other. The night was perfect.

About twenty days into their trip, Harry and Ginny found themselves near Istanbul, having arrived there in Sirius’s motorbike and camped on an isolated patch of garden by the shore in an island inside the Marmara Sea. They’d been exploring Turkey during most of the day, had dinner, and were both sitting on a beach towel on the grass, with a thick blanket for each, having a hot tea as they looked up beyond the lights of Istanbul, to the sky full of stars they could barely count, specially the farther from the city they looked. They had been in silence for a while, but it was a good silence, a nice silence, and they were both feeling utterly relaxed and content after weeks of travel, the days of war and battle seeming like they belonged to another life.

‘I want to talk to you about something of mine, Ginny,’ Harry’s voice resonated suddenly, soft, as if it didn’t want to bother the calmness of the night, or the fireflies shining in the distance.

‘Go ahead,’ she replied gently. Harry turned to her and she was surprised, and somewhat shocked, to find his eyes were glassy. ‘What’s wrong?’

He smiled, shaking his head.

‘Nothing. I’m okay. I’m the best I’ve been in seventeen years, actually. I was just thinking. The thing I want to talk to you about is not an easy thing to talk about.’

‘You don’t have to do it.’

‘I know. But I want you to know me,’ said Harry. ‘Me, Harry. Not me, the Boy Who Lived. Or rather… survived,’ he took a sip of his tea, and moved to face her. ‘When I visited Private Drive, as I was talking to Aunt Petunia something must’ve triggered stuff, because I was suddenly hit by dozens of horrible memories of a childhood I’d… repressed or something. Hermione told me to go to the library, so I did… and I discovered tons of books about what in psychology they call childhood trauma. And I thought there was no memory in my childhood worse than watching my mother die. That’s what I hear, when a dementor gets too close, you know?’

‘Do you?’

‘I hear my Mum scream and I see the green light. I used to have that recurrent nightmare when I was a child, and if I mentioned it to Vernon and Petunia, I’d surely get a smack, at the very least. Told off for saying stupid nonsense,’ Harry shrugged.

‘That’s horrible.’

‘That’s not the worst. I’d forgotten it, until the other day. I’d forgotten… that we were close, once. When I first got there, Petunia treated me like a son, she’s given me pictures that prove it. She cradled me and loved me and I used to play with my cousin, Dudley, and even Vernon was nice. I saw a picture of him pushing me in the swings when I was like, two. The two first years there, those were the good ones.’

‘What happened then? Why did they stop?’

‘Turns out that I was… a nightmare of a child. I started doing lots of magic, early on. I knew I must’ve done some because I found a photograph in Sirius’s room that my Mum sent him of me in a small magical broomstick, having an absolute blast,’ Ginny smiled softly at the thought.

‘Of course. Always a Quidditch player.’

‘Look who’s talking,’ Harry smiled at her, then looked at his tea. ‘But apparently, maybe because I missed my parents and didn’t understand what had happened or because the Dursleys were strangers to me… I had never met them while my parents lived… I started acting up and used magic for bad. I hurt kids in kindergarten, which is the first school Muggles go to, when they’re toddlers. I was one and two, and I was making bad stuff happen to toddlers, Ginny,’ Harry looked up to her, expecting to see horror, but instead she looked at him attentive, curious. ‘And then when I was three I almost made Dudley drown at the beach using magic. I could’ve seriously injured him, God, maybe that’s why he’s so stupid, maybe I did hurt him so bad… anyway, Petunia and Vernon ended up scared as hell that I was going to kill Dudley or some other kid and get arrested as a child. Worried what would happen if I attacked a teacher, a policeman, which are the Muggle Aurors, a doctor… because I’d attack anyone who made me upset, and apparently I got upset easily. The books I read said that if I was struggling with my parents’ death then… it’d make me upset. And if I was already having the shitty nightmares I remember having always had, I suppose I’d be sleepless, confused, easy to piss off, and I had no one to help me with my magic so… then my uncle and aunt decided to try make me repress my magic by punishing me, hard, whenever I did even a bit of it. Hitting me, slapping me, locking me in the Cupboard for days… and I’d make things burst and explode, cause accidents… everything you can imagine.’

‘The more you repress magic, the worse it gets. It will get out, no matter what. People have died trying not to do magic,’ said Ginny softly. ‘My parents were trying to help us with it since we were very small. Trying to teach us to control things, dominate our abilities, learn them… hard without a wand, but we did mostly okay. I reckon most of the “accidental”,’ she drew symbols with her fingers in the air, ‘magic the twins did, was completely on purpose.’

Harry’s mouth twitched in amusement.

‘Yeah. Hermione also told me her parents weren’t so rough, they thought she was playing tricks,’ replied Harry. ‘I think Vernon and Petunia overreacted out of terror, because what I was doing endangered people around me quite actively, and because they knew magic was why my Mum was dead. So when I was three… after the beach incident… they decided I could no longer play with other children, share Dudley’s toys, or be around the public and they locked me up in the Cupboard. No more holidays, trips, excursions, nothing. I was blamed for anything remotely unusual happening around us, I wasn’t allowed to ask any kind of questions but more so about my family or anything like fairies that would be on children’s tales for Muggles, imagination was strongly discouraged, fantasy stuff… any of it and Vernon would hit me. Hard. Petunia would scream at me, pull my hair, sometimes slap me… they taught Dudley to mock the hell out of me and to keep me in check in school, bullying me so badly with his mates that I was too distracted to do magic and it wouldn’t come out so much. One time Petunia shaved my head and by the morning, it had all grown back, so she smacked me in the arse for an hour. Couldn’t sit afterwards. I got Dudley’s hand-me-downs so they wouldn’t have to get me out and into shops if they could avoid it, I always did household chores, since very young, four or five years old… bleaching the mould off the windows, scrubbing pots, cooking breakfast, cleaning the car, trimming the garden, anything, I’d do it. I suppose they thought the busier I was the less magic I’d have energy to do.’

‘That’s just… that’s just wrong,’ said Ginny, her eyes getting glassy in a mixture of anger and sadness. ‘That’s no childhood.’

‘I don’t want to do a pity party,’ said Harry.

‘You’re not. But tell me the stuff. Let it out, it’s okay. Did you get something some birthdays?’

‘A dirty sock, sometimes. Or candy wrap,’ Harry replied. ‘And my existence had to be as hidden as possible so although I went to school, there were no photographs or anything mine around the house and I was to be in the Cupboard or later after I entered Hogwarts, my room, because Hagrid was the one to get me to go to Hogwarts and scared them enough, for as much as possible. I was sometimes locked there without food for days, if I screwed up. Other times I’d be allowed to be outside, particularly after I got into Hogwarts, for as long as I wanted, so long as I didn’t ask for money nor made my existence noticeable to anybody.’

‘And you never… went to the police or something?’

‘Me?’ Harry looked amused by the mere idea. ‘No. I didn’t know any family, I didn’t know names of any other members of my family, found those of my parents by chance one time, I didn’t have friends or people who gave a crap about me… if I wasn’t with the Dursleys, where? I would’ve done weird shit again, and I would’ve been in an orphanage and… things could’ve gotten even worse than they already were. I guess I was afraid. But in retrospect, had I done it I would’ve broken the protective charms so I’d likely be dead.’

‘Of course…’

‘Some people did know I existed, though. I was the disturbed nephew to those,’ Harry explained, feeling like he was opening a pressure cooker and letting the steam out before he could explode. ‘And Vernon has a sister, Marge, who I was to call my aunt, and who bullied the crap out of me. She had this angry bulldogs who’d chase me up trees, she’d smack me in the shins with a stick if I was winning at something in the rare games I was ever allowed to participate in, and in school… well, Dudley had a game called Harry Hunting.’

‘Merlin…’

‘I can stop. I don’t want to hurt you,’ Harry worried, seeing she was getting upset.

‘Hurt me?’ Ginny smiled sadly, taking his hand. ‘You could never. No, go on… better out than in, that’s what Mum always says.’

Harry nodded and took a deep breath before continuing, looking up at the stars like he was examining someone else’s life.

‘Everyone at school hated me because Dudley made them. He was a big bully, everyone was terrified of his gang, so… no chance of friendships. I was very good at sports, but also I wouldn’t get picked for a team until I was the last one and they had no chance, because even though nobody really disliked or hated me for being me, some rather liked me, they couldn’t show it because they were afraid of Dudley. And weird stuff happened in school too. I turned a teacher’s wig blue, appeared on a roof once while running from Dudley, shrunk a jumper as Petunia was trying to put it on me… each incident required punishment, of course. And so… that was life until Hagrid showed up for my eleventh birthday.’

‘And when…’ Ginny was almost afraid to ask, and found herself gulping. ‘How would they punish you? Always beat you up?’

‘Mostly. But they never broke any bones,’ Harry added hurriedly, as if that’d keep Ginny from being fully horrified.

‘Didn’t break your bones, sure that makes everything okay,’ Ginny said sarcastically, and got up, letting her blanket fall to the grass. She was trembling with fury, trying to calm herself so she wouldn’t shout at Harry, who didn’t deserve it.

‘Ginny, I’m okay.’

‘No you’re fucking not okay,’ Ginny blurted out, going back to him and falling on her knees, angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Harry looked shocked at her. ‘Baby…’ it was the first time she called him that. ‘Your family didn’t love you and bullied and abused the crap out of you for ten years, they locked you up and beat you up and didn’t even feed you properly, no wonder you were always so slim. I can’t even imagine a week without my Mum’s hugs and kisses and overwhelming love like, I genuinely struggled without that when I went to Hogwarts and you… oh, Merlin… your Mum hasn’t hugged you or kissed you or given you overwhelming love in seventeen years,’ she began to think she was actually half-sobbing more out of sadness now, the anger gradually leading to agonising emotions. ‘And that bitch of your aunt, those bloody bastards…’ she’d never had such a foul mouth before. ‘They owed you love, and they tortured you instead. And no one, especially not a child, deserves to be treated like that, and especially not you.’

‘But I scared them.’

‘You are the only one who had a reason to be scared,’ said Ginny. ‘Harry, they knew you were a son of a wizard and a witch, they knew you were likely to do the same, Petunia is… how many years older, you said, than your Mum?’

‘Four.’

‘Four! Then she surely remembered very clearly the stuff Lily would do, she had to have known you were the same very soon,’ said Ginny. ‘And if she truly gave a shit, she should’ve stood up for you even against her husband, she should’ve known it was a matter of comforting you, not of scaring you more, to keep you from doing scary stuff. But she didn’t. She just liked the cute little baby, that was all, but that woman is a monster and she doesn’t deserve the wonderful nephew she got. They don’t deserve this incredible, amazing man. And I’ve no idea how your wonderful grandparents could give birth to both a beautiful person and that harpy, but that’s what they did. Must be like Sirius’s parents.’ Oddly for her, Harry was grinning at her now. ‘What?’

‘You love me,’ said Harry, matter-of-fact. ‘You’re so bloody outraged because you love me that much.’

‘Well of course! I’m your girlfriend, you dummy, there’s nobody more wonderful in my eyes than you!’ He grinned at that, and kissed her, surprising her with his passion. ‘But we were having a sad moment…’

‘There are no sad moments with you, because you are my whole world,’ said Harry with her in his arms. ‘And nothing else matters. The world before Ginny is history. You are my present and my future and I cannot be sad with that.’ Ginny grinned at him, allowing him to kiss her again, drying her tears with his thumbs, and giving in to him.

Chapter Text

Towards the end of their trip, Harry and Ginny found themselves in the most remote location, one that actually got out of Europe but that was so remote Mr and Mrs Weasley had been okay with them visiting, considering they were unlikely to encounter Death Eaters there. It was high on a cliff in Northern Greenland, so cold they had to use magic to keep the tent warm, with Harry having learned new advanced spells in preparation for the trip, and the entire tent was full of the little fires in jars that Hermione had taught him to make. They had been walking around the tundra, enjoying the vastness of the middle of nowhere, where no trace of civilization got, seeing polar bears and even reindeers at times in the horizon, and spotting whales and icebergs in the ocean, excitedly pointing at them with fully gloved fingers, and sometimes attempting to learn to do skiing. They had visited a village as well, but were now hunting for Northern Lights, as they had heard that even though they were out of the usual season to sight-see them, they could be seen all year round if they only got isolated enough from civilization.

This time of the year, they had about twenty hours of sun per day, so the tricky part to see the Northern Lights was having to wait until it was really dark outside, with their internal clocks massively screwed. That gave them a really small margin of hours to see the lights, but they were hopeful. This late in July and this far North, after all, they could have less hours of light than more in the South or earlier in July, so they might get five or six hours of darkness in the wee hours of the morning.

‘We won’t get attacked by a polar bear, will we?’ Ginny asked nervously as they zipped up Muggle snow clothes under their woollen cloaks before leaving the tent.

‘I’ve protected quite the perimeter with all sorts of magic, there’s no way,’ said Harry. ‘Come on, let’s go. Lumos.’

His wand illuminated the way as they walked North in so much darkness they couldn’t even distinguish the ground from the sky. But above them, there were billions of stars, more than they had ever seen, and they knew if all else failed their next stop was Iceland, where they might also see them, so they were optimistic. They walked to the far end of the large protected perimeter Harry had drawn, which he’d marked drawing lines on the snow with his wand, and stood together, Harry holding Ginny from behind in an attempt to keep her extra warm, while his metal glasses felt like ice on his face.

‘I can feel the snot inside my nose turning into icicles,’ Ginny murmured, making him laugh.

‘So long as your saliva doesn’t solidify, you’re fine,’ joked Harry, looking eagerly at the sky with her.

Way over an hour later, when they had sat on blankets on the ground to get more comfortable, they were almost ready to give up, their faces red from the cold, and they had almost run out of ice-related jokes. But at last, Ginny gasped and pointed up, and Harry knew they’d made it.

Slowly, emerald green leashes appeared in the darkness, like dancing serpentine, and it grew bigger and bigger, rendering them completely speechless. The two kept looking up, stunned into silence, necks hurting from looking up so much. Eventually they lied down, not caring about the cold, silently watching the nature’s most amazing spectacle for two hours that felt too short, before the sun began to rise.

‘That felt…’ Harry whispered.

‘Beyond magic,’ said Ginny, and he hummed in agreement. ‘Thank you, Harry. That’s… worth everything.’

‘Thank you. Now… let’s watch the sunrise?’

Grinning, they snuggled together and watched the darkness slowly fade and the light begin to appear in the Eastern horizon, revealing the Atlantic Ocean first, and slowly more of Greenland.

‘This is the best day of my life,’ sentenced Ginny, snuggled up in Harry’s arms. ‘I feel like… like I’ll never be sad again.’

‘Me too. This trip has been beyond anything I expected, you know? Insane, with all the putting up and removing the tent, seeing so many places so quickly… but also adventurous and exciting.’

‘Let’s do this again next year. Even just for a week. Promise,’ said Ginny. ‘Promise every year, no matter how old we get, you’ll take me for an escapade, just the two of us, some crazy location, and a tent.’

Harry beamed at her, his nose frosty, and nodded.

‘With you, anything.’

Eventually they returned to the tent, feeling like they were in some drunk haze of happiness, and welcomed the warmth of the tent with relieved sighs. They’d slept during the day, so they weren’t tired, and Harry merely checked the protections before getting back in the tent and shutting it close. Ginny had already removed her cloak and coats, and stood in her boots, jumper and winter trousers, warming her hands on one of the little jars of fire. Harry stripped himself off the excess of clothes and joined her, putting his nose near the fire, which made her laugh.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Warming my nose. It’s frozen, look! I’ll give you a skimo kiss, look,’ Ginny was cackling, but when Harry’s nose brushed hers, she playfully pushed his now bearded face away, both laughing.

‘Go away, you evil. No, better not,’ Ginny pulled him close again, and kissed him hard on the lips, then the rest of his face, and then stared lovingly at him. ‘I’ve got to give it to you, Mr Potter. I put on my sexiest attires, you didn’t jump my bones. I was alone in a tent with you for nearly sixty days now, you didn’t jump my bones. You won’t even grab my arse, you’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman, even when after the year we’ve had I’m sure nature has nearly won your mental fights more than once. But you’re a man of your word.’

‘I know it seems very silly, I mean, any Muggle couple has had sex or whatever a billion times by the time they’re our age and your parents wouldn’t even know, but…’ Harry shrugged. ‘Your parents are the closest to parents I’ve got left. I never want them to be disappointed on me, and even if they’re not here to make sure I do as I said I would… I would know. And I want to be able to look at them in the eyes and confirm I stood by my promise to them. I don’t want to lie to them, ever, if I can help it.’

‘I admire you all the more for this. You know I’m ready, and I can see you are, at least… little Harry.’

‘Don’t call him that,’ Harry petitioned, even though they were both chuckling.

‘But you promised something and you’ll make sure your word is worth gold. That honours you,’ said Ginny. ‘And it makes you even sexier in my eyes. But you better take me to Grimmauld Place on my birthday, kick Kreacher out for the day, lock the fireplaces, and go to the end with me because I love you and hugging you is not always enough.’

‘Deal. Snuggles?’

‘Always.’

Their trip ended in Glendalough, East Ireland, on the 30 ^th of July, their sixtieth day away. They celebrated exploring Ireland and, on their last night away, the last one for Harry of being seventeen, they stayed in their tent, opening it to have dinner at the entrance, just on a picnic with a blanket on top of the grass right outside the tent, overlooking some beautiful falls in the forest they were camping it, in a valley at the bottom of a hill that seemed to grow around them, creating some kind of natural nest. Wanting to compensate her lack of magical help, as she wasn’t allowed to use her wand unless it was life or death, by helping more with cooking and cleaning, Ginny had cooked a beautiful birthday dinner, and they put it on a small table by the entrance of the tent, sitting on blankets on the ground in comfortable fifteen degrees Celsius.

‘Well, Mr Potter,’ Ginny grinned at him, watching him devour the food, ‘thank you for the most outstanding holiday of my life. I will never forget it. And we got like a billion photographs to make sure of that.’

Harry grinned at her.

‘You know what? I should thank you. You have returned my faith in camping,’ she chuckled. ‘And in spite of all the terrible memories of the past year… I have never felt as happy and free and gland to be alive as I have these past two months. Being here, with you… it’s shown me all I was fighting for. And the beautiful world and romance my parents sacrifices their lives to give me. They wanted this for me. You. The wonders of the world. Freedom. And you’ve made it possible.’

‘We,’ Ginny corrected, taking his hand, ‘made it possible. You’re right, this is what we all fought for. It makes everything worth it.’

‘It does,’ Harry squeezed her hand. ‘I hope Ron and Hermione have been having a blast in our absence too. Kind of feel bad for Ron, he didn’t get any trips.’

‘Hermione wanted to take him to places, so don’t worry. Many of them with her family, not alone, yes, but…’ Ginny shrugged. ‘She had surprises in store for him. Wanted to show him pretty places, and I’m sure they had a blast. Besides, Ron is on mission “Dazzle the Parents”, which you accomplished ages ago.’

Harry’s lips twitched and he chuckled at her.

‘Hey Ginny?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You look dashing,’ he said, staring lovingly at her. Ginny blushed.

She had thought of dressing up and putting on make-up, but it was late and she was tired, and once Harry had said he didn’t want to go out on his birthday night, but rather stay in the tent with her, she had decided to dress casually and without make-up, without making too much of an effort, both dressed for camping. In truth, they’d allowed themselves the freedom to not have to make huge efforts during their trip, and Harry’s beard had acquired a new length now, his hair having quickly grown enough to be a bit Sirius-like length, and full of dark waves as it was its usual mess. The Muggles had often mistaken them from hippie backpackers. So the idea that Harry found her dashing when she hadn’t made a single effort struck Ginny as particularly sweet.

‘Thanks babes. You look sexy.’

‘Thanks… love,’ they stared at each other, exploring their first real exchange of pet names, checking how it felt. Satisfied, they continued to stare lovingly even as they ate. ‘Your cooking is extraordinary.’

‘It’s the least I could do.’

As they sat, stomachs satisfied, watching the water falling between the wall of rocks into the stream below, Ginny was suddenly driven into song, singing softly, almost in a whisper, a Muggle song she’d heard one time around the Muggle-magical village of Ottery St Catchpole near her house, the previous summer, after Harry, Ron and Hermione had left.

‘I'm living for that day, someday… Can I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?’ Harry turned to look at Ginny, his thin lips curved into a gentle smile, but Ginny was looking onwards, not at him, her focus in her mind. ‘I wish that we could be like that, why can't we it be like that? Cause I'm yours, I'm yours... Why can't you hold me in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that, why can't it be like that? Cause I'm yours why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops, I wish that it could be like that, why can't we be like that? Cause I'm yours…’

She seemed to snap out of it, and looked at Harry, who was watching her attentively.

‘That was really beautiful,’ said Harry. ‘A penny for your thoughts?’

Ginny snorted a laugh.

‘You do realise I have never used pound currency, do you?’

‘A knut for your thoughts?’

They laughed together at his adaptation, but then Ginny nodded.

‘You left almost a year ago,’ said Ginny, ‘I was thinking of it… and I thought of that August when I missed you so much, and I knew how dangerous it would be for you… I went strolling down to the village, hoping to get you off my mind, all three of you. And someone was listening to that song in a car. I was struck by the lyrics, thinking of hos much I wished we didn’t have to be in hiding, especially you… and it stuck in my head. The singers are actually really good.’

‘I see,’ Harry nodded. ‘I never had means at the Dursleys to listen to music on my own, but… sounds like a nice song. And… we can shout it from the rooftops, now, if we want to.’ Ginny smiled broadly at him.

‘No more hiding.’

‘Never again,’ he squeezed her hand. ‘I’m yours.’

She brought his hand to her lips and got a glance of his watch, the old battered one that had belonged to her uncle, Fabian Prewett. The smaller star had just marked twelve o’clock at night. They’d been sitting there for long.

‘Happy birthday, my love,’ she said, looking up to Harry, who glanced at his watch too, and grinned in understanding.

‘The happiest of my life, I think.’

Ginny pushed the table away to be closer to him, and cupped his face, bringing him in for a kiss. Her lips pressed softly against his, trying to pour into one sublime kiss all the things he’d made her feel during the past sixty days that had now officially ended. The love, the gratefulness, the happiness, the joy, the amusement, the excitement, the curiosity, the amazement, and all else. He’d shown her a truly beautiful world, and she ran out of words to explain what a kiss might. And it must have done it, because as she separated, the corner of her lips twitching as she enjoyed the sight of his eyes still closed, his long dark eyelashes, and his dumbfounded expression, he gasped.

‘Woah,’ he murmured, opening his eyes. ‘That kiss was… woah.’

‘Woah indeed,’ Ginny kissed his soft, bearded cheek. ‘I’ve got a gift for you.’

She rushed into the tent and came out with a small chocolate cake. It was a modest cake, and the “Happy birthday love” on the top wasn’t so perfect because she’d done it by hand, but Harry beamed at it, and especially as she brought it singing the birthday song with eighteen candles lit on the cake. Harry stood up and helped her hold the cake, bursting with joy. As she finished the solo, he blew the candles, his wish clear in his head, and kissed her.

‘Thank you. A cake was also my first proper birthday present with the Dursleys, but I’ve got to say Hagrid, as big as his heart is, is not such a great chef,’ said Harry.

‘Did you make a wish?’

‘Yes,’ he promised. ‘To keep this going forever.’ Ginny grinned.

‘You’re not supposed to say.’

‘But you have to make it happen,’ replied Harry.

‘I will. Promise.’

Both feeling quite happy, they enjoyed the delicious cake, feeding each other pieces with their hands and tasting it off each other’s lips sometimes. At last, they left half for breakfast and tidied everything up.

‘When did you even make it?’ asked Harry. ‘I didn’t see you.’

‘You took an awfully long nap earlier, and then I finished it while you went to get some shopping for dinner.’

‘Sneaky smarty Weasley.’

‘And I have a second gift.’

‘Oh, babe, you didn’t have to bother…’ Harry watched her go into her trunk.

‘It really was no bother. I didn’t have the chance to wrap it up, but…’ Ginny turned around and handed Harry a framed photograph. It was a recent one, and they were both grinning at Harry’s digital camera as they posed on top of a cliff in Norway, both wearing thick clothes and looking cosy, happy and in love.

The picture made Harry smile, and he turned it around, feeling Ginny would’ve scribbled something in the back of the picture. She’d actually done it on the back of the frame, writing “ A new beginning at the top of the world. Norway, July ‘98 ”.

‘Thank you, Ginny. It’s perfect.’

‘I thought it’s all about making sure the happier memories overwhelm the bad ones now.’

‘You’re brilliant,’ Harry kissed her, his beard tickling her face. ‘I love you. Thank you.’

‘And… the trip is over,’ Ginny added on a sadder note.

‘Not really. Life with you is a trip, the most incredible one,’ said Harry, putting the picture on the kitchen table and wrapping his arms around her waist. ‘The best is yet to come.’

Ginny put her arms over his shoulders, staring into his eyes in wonder.

‘You truly have the most amazing green eyes in the world,’ she whispered.

‘It’s to compensate for my knobbly knees and the untidy hair sticking up at the back,’ murmured Harry, staring at her as if in a trance. Ginny snorted a laugh.

‘I like your knobbly knees and the untidy hair that sticks up at the back.’

‘You have a really weird taste.’

‘Lucky you,’ as if drawn by a magnet, they kissed again, but this time something had shifted.

It was as if they weren’t kissing just with the mouths, but with every part of themselves. In the way Ginny’s hand buried in his hair, her nails scratching his skull, the other on his hairy jaw, the way Harry’s facial hair tickled her freckled face just gently enough, and their bodies pressed together, the little gasp that came out of their mouths as they made a minimal separation to breathe before kissing again, the lack of hurry, Harry’s hand finally sliding down to her arse.

And then it was like flipping a switch. The time that had slowed down accelerated, and they moved against each other with invigorated energy, like they couldn’t wait a second more, the tent filling up with sounds of passionate making out, and stumbling as Ginny quickly jumped on the kitchen table, using her legs to pull Harry to stand between them, not caring if she could feel him growing directly against her crotch as they kissed passionately with hands roaming over each other.

It seemed like they were kissing during a solar eclipse that when it ended, left them dumbfounded, breathless, struggling to put two thoughts back together, but still embracing one another.

‘Technically,’ said Ginny, ‘you said sixty days. You said during the trip. The trip is over. It’s day sixty-one, technically. And also, technically… you said we’d sleep in different sides of the tent, but this isn’t sleeping. You said no funny business, and we’re not laughing. And it is your birthday.’

Harry stared at her in sudden astonishment.

‘You’re right,’ said Harry. ‘But Ginny, if we do this, there’s no going back. We said we’d take things slow, and this would change everything.’

‘Would that be bad for you?’ asked Ginny, suddenly insecure.

‘No. I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to do it with… I just… some people say once you have sex it’s technically marriage.’

Ginny laughed, unable to stop herself, and Harry smiled at her apologetically but amused.

‘Harry, very religious people say that, not us. And besides,’ she cupped his face sweetly, ‘there’s nothing wrong with two people who really love each other and who’ve been through hell, wanting to make love.’

‘Won’t you regret it if we don’t work out? Say distance splits us.’

‘If it didn’t before, when we actually had zero communication, it won’t now. And even if it did, I have never regretted anything with you. I doubt I ever will. Do you?’

‘No,’ as if pulled by a magnet, Harry’s lips found hers and kissed her slowly, closing his eyes. Then a penny dropped. ‘Fuck.’

‘What?’

‘I didn’t do any research. I don’t have protection.’

‘I’ve been taking a potion Hermione procured for me for two months,’ said Ginny casually. ‘Just in case you couldn’t keep your word. But you have, well done. And whatever happens after the thirtieth…’

‘Technically… it doesn’t count.’

‘Exactly.’

‘If you’re really, really sure?’ asked Harry, even though he was hard and struggling to get blood back to his brain to think. ‘I’m in no rush and… I want to do it right. I didn’t prepare anything, I’m probably bear level of hairy—,’

‘You wouldn’t be the only one—,’

‘But you’re stunning, hair doesn’t make a difference…’

‘Exactly,’ Ginny smiled small.

‘I don’t want to have sex just for the sake of it.’

‘Neither do I. I want to make love to my favourite human being ever,’ said Ginny. ‘I want to kiss him all over and show him how much he means to me. And uh… contrary to general belief… I never did it with Dean. I almost did, but then… it would’ve been just sex. And I didn’t want it to be just sex. Especially if I was going to be thinking of you the whole time.’

Harry stared at her in wonder.

‘I want that,’ said Harry. ‘I want to show you… I don’t have words to show you the way you make me feel. I have actions. And I’ve never done this before either but… if you don’t mind me being a bit clumsy…’

‘We’ll figure it out together.’

They kissed again, slow and tender and sweet, and Ginny opened his shirt as they kissed, sliding her hands against his skin like he’d dreamed of doing so many times, making him groan into her mouth and press more against her.

They took their time, lying over blankets and rugs in the middle of the closed tent, surrounded by little flames dancing in glass jars, clothes peeling off bit by bit as they memorised each other’s bodies and the way they reacted to their touch, their lips, and their caresses. Harry had to keep thinking of something less exciting to keep himself from finishing in his underwear just from the sight of her incredible beauty, as his hands and lips traced her freckled breasts, and by the time he finally settled inside of her, both trembling with racing hearts, they were so wet he had to really be careful not to fall in so fast.

Harry hovered above her, supporting on one arm and caressing her body with his free hand as he stayed, unmoving, inside of her, and they stared at each other, recovering their breaths and assimilating the feeling of Ginny’s body squeezing his most sensitive area, them being one, at last. Shuddering with pleasure after the initial discomfort, Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, making him fall against her and enjoying his weight, wrapping her legs around his waist.

‘Make love to me, Potter.’

‘You’ve got it, Weasley.’

The first time, neither lasted long, especially Harry. He collapsed, breathless, against her chest, and the feeling of him exploding within her made Ginny follow suit, especially as his pubic bone pressed against her clit, and then they lied together in each other’s arms, feeling the other’s racing heart and trying to catch their breath. Harry rolled them, holding her on top, kissing her face, her neck, telling her how perfect and amazing she was and how much he loved her, and soon he was hard again and she was waving her hips, moving against him, putting his hand against his clit and moaning against his chest as she bounced with more and more energy.

There was something out of this world about connecting in such a physical, intimate way, becoming one being with someone with whom they already felt such an emotional and mental connection, causing so much pleasure on the other and treating the other’s body with nothing but love and reverence, kissing scars, not caring about hair, marks, or anything else, finding beauty in everything that the other was, until at last they lied, completely spent and intertwined on each other, holding each other very tight as if they could literally become one.

‘You’re my world,’ Harry mumbled, his glasses long gone, his eyes closed as she nuzzled into his neck. ‘You’re my whole universe, Ginny Weasley. And every breath I take, every extra minute I enjoy, every laugh I have… it’ll all be because of you, for you, and preferably with you.’

Ginny smiled against his neck, his heart calming down beneath her breasts, wetness still coming out of her and onto his crotch, none of them caring.

‘I feel the same way,’ she murmured. ‘I feel… like everything I am and ever will be is yours. Like… you’re all my Northern Lights in the dark. And so long as you’re here then I don’t need anything else. You’re my family.’

‘And you’re mine.’

They held each other lovingly, feeling connected in a whole new, surreal level, and quite at home. Remembering something, Harry reached out with a hand towards his wand, which had been abandoned on the floor, grabbed it, and pointed towards his room.

‘Accio rucksack,’ he called, and his rucksack came flying. Grabbing it with one hand without disturbing Ginny, he dug in it.

‘What is it?’ asked Ginny from his chest.

‘I almost forgot I also got you a present. You know, to remember this trip by.’

‘As if I could ever forget it.’

‘Here,’ Harry handed her a velvet box, grinning at her. ‘It may also be a boyfriend’s kind of thing.’

Curious, Ginny rolled off him to open it. There was a beautiful necklace inside, with what seemed like a miniature snitch in gold hanging from it, but Ginny knew better. They had learned enough about the Celts in their time in Ireland to know better.

‘The Serch Bythol,’ Ginny whispered. ‘The symbol of eternal love.’ The unification of the symmetrical left and right halves of the Serch Bythol symbol, to the Celts, signified the bringing together of body, mind and spirit with the central circle representing the eternal love which binds them together. Harry had seen it at a market and bought it while Ginny went into a pub for the loo, wanting to give her a little souvenir.

‘So that when you go to Hogwarts you don’t forget you still have me, even if you can’t see me all the time. What I feel for you is not a weak flame that will vanish if you’re not around to keep it alive, Ginny. And it’s funny every other ignorant will think it’s a Snitch, which also happens to be what we built our friendship around.

She turned to him, grinning.

‘Help me put it on?’

‘You like it?’

Harry put it around her neck while she lifted her long hair and then she rolled on top of him again, grinning at him as the golden symbol caressed his chest.

‘I love it. Almost as much as I love you.’

Chapter Text

The morning of Harry’s eighteenth birthday was the happiest birthday morning he could possibly remember, as Ginny interrupted his morning shower to make it the best shower of his life. Afterwards they went to an Irish pub for breakfast, having already picked up all their things and cleaned the tent, and trunks in tow, the pair got on Sirius’s motorbike, ready to go home.

‘We shouldn’t call it Sirius’s any more,’ said Ginny watching as Harry reduced the size of their trunks to get them in their rucksacks, and then she secured the rucksacks on the holders Mr Weasley had installed on the sides of the motorbike. ‘It’s your motorbike now.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Harry patted the shiny, black vehicle with fondness. ‘Come on beautiful, time to go home,’ Harry kissed her and grinned, passing her one of the helmets.

Harry couldn’t stop smiling as he drove. There was something about the wind on his face, Ginny’s arms tight around him, and the baggage removed off his shoulders through travelling, that made him feel as if he’d just gotten freed from Azkaban, and the level of happiness was beyond anything else he’d ever known. He understood why Sirius had loved that motorbike so much now, and wished he’d been able to give his godfather the chance of a last motorbike trip.

They begun taking the Muggle route, but then instead of going for a ferry, Harry drove them into a private alley, and he pulled them into the air, through the clouds and out in the other side. Suddenly, they were above the Irish Sea.

‘More comfortable than the broom, I’ve got to admit,’ said Ginny into Harry’s ear, clinging onto him.

‘Indeed!’ Harry chuckled, and as they broke through a new cloud that left them a little damp, Harry pointed below. ‘Cornwall!’

‘Home, here we go!’

It took them just three hours on the motorbike to spot Ottery St Catchpole, and there Harry began to descend, pressing a black button on the motorbike that made them invisible to the Muggles. As they lowered down, Ginny was the first to point to the shabby tower of The Burrow, illuminated by the late morning sun, and the lower they got, the clearer the chickens, the rabbits and the gnomes became, until with a slight bump, the wheels landed on the grass, and Ginny stretched a hand under Harry’s arm to hit the horn repeatedly, as this motorbike had one installed near one of the handles. Harry made the motorbike and at last, they parked by the main door just as it opened and the Weasleys and Hermione came out running to welcome them home. Hermione had come back for the birthday celebrations, but would only be staying a few days, before returning to her family for a last week or two, spending the last of the summer at The Burrow in order to prepare for Hogwarts.

‘We’re back!’ Ginny took off her helmet, practically jumping off the motorbike and into her mother’s arms. ‘Mum it was the best trip ever! It was perfect! You cannot believe all the amazing stuff we saw and how cool every day was! Harry’s officially boyfriend of the year.’ She added grinning as she turned to Harry, who blushed, coming towards them. His hair had grown enough for him to get the upper part into a mini bun, and united to his beard, it was slightly difficult to recognise him.

‘Well look at you two! Glad you had fun,’ Molly kissed her daughter and then Harry, hugging him tight.

‘And we got souvenirs for everyone,’ added Ginny, hugging her Dad too.

They greeted everyone affectionately, hugging and chit-chatting, and entered the house together. Harry carried both rucksacks and promptly pulled out the trunks and restored them to their regular size. They were heavy with souvenirs he began to give everyone, while Ginny showed them photograph after photograph from their thick stack of them, and began rambling about the stories. Mr Weasley and Percy brewed more tea for everyone, and soon the family was reunited again around the kitchen table.

‘The Magical History of the Ottoman Empire, oh, thank you!’ Hermione held her new book with a broad smile.

‘Looks like you guys had loads of fun then, no Death Eaters,’ commented Mr Weasley with satisfaction.

‘The most danger we encountered was a polar bear in Greenland who smelled our bacon sandwiches one time,’ said Ginny. ‘And Harry got rid of it very smartly throwing a salmon out of our security zone. He’s been true to his word, couldn’t have taken better care of me.’ She added proudly looking at Harry.

‘I see there are no hairdressers in the rest of the world though,’ Ron teased Harry. ‘Mate, as if your hair isn’t messy enough as it is!’

‘It’s all going away soon, but it kept my head warmer in all of those cold places.’

‘I quite like it,’ Ginny passed a hand through his dark mane while sitting with him.

‘Anyway, we’re all forgetting something,’ said Mrs Weasley, and out of the blue she pulled a large package wrapped in gift paper, passing it to Harry. ‘Happy birthday darling.’

‘Oh, Mrs Weasley, thank you! You shouldn’t have…’

‘I’ll bring all the others,’ said Hermione, leaving the kitchen.

Everyone had given him wonderful gifts, a whole mountain of gifts that had arrived from all over the world, some from complete strangers. Harry was completely speechless, he lost count after twenty-three, and they just kept bringing bags with more presents out of nowhere.

‘Seems like the community is very grateful for your hard work,’ commented George with amusement, looking much more recovered than how Harry and Ginny had left him two months before.

Amused and curious, everyone had crowded around just to see Harry open presents. Those who barely knew him, if anything at all, and who Harry didn’t know at all, had gone for more generic presents; loads of sweets, bakery, cakes, winter gloves, things like that. Harry made a pile of “gifts from total strangers” in one side of the large kitchen table, making sure to finish with them before going to the smaller pile of gifts from people he knew and loved; the Weasleys and Hermione, Andromeda, Hagrid, and even, surprisingly, McGonagall and Kingsley, who’d never before given him something for his birthday.

‘Of this pile,’ Harry pointed to the larger one from strangers, not having opened the other boxes yet, ‘you all are welcome to take anything you fancy, or eat it, or whatever. I really don’t need more food or more gloves or any of this, I’m happier giving it to any of you.’

‘Cheers Harry,’ said Ron, immediately going for a bag of candy. ‘That one looks like a broom!’ he added, pointing to the other pile, that Harry hadn’t opened.

Harry turned, and saw a large box that indeed, looked like a broom box. His broom had been destroyed exactly a year before as it fell off from a far too high altitude, and it likely shattered somewhere.

‘It’s from McGonagall,’ said Ginny, leaning over the box before passing it to Harry, who put the large box in front of him on the table.

Curious, Harry opened it and before he could see the contents, covered in cellophane paper, he saw a note with McGonagall’s handwriting on it.

‘Dear Harry,’ Harry read out loud, surprised by the tone of affection and friendship, ‘I gave you your first adult broom, and after I heard how your Firebolt got lost, I thought it was only right I’d provide the last one. After all, the air is the place where we get to be as free as a bird. However, I know the Firebolt was Sirius’s gift and therefore meant a lot to you, so after you lost it, I tried to recover it. It had a couple of scratches, but it works fine. Have a good flight. Minerva McGonagall,’ he read. ‘I don’t think… there’s no way…’ he yanked the paper away, his heart in his throat, and gasped at the sight of the old Firebolt Sirius had gifted him at thirteen years old. ‘My Firebolt! In one piece! I can’t believe it!’

He lifted it up in the air, eyes gleaming with excitement and joy. It looked like new, evidently McGonagall had given it a good brush, but it was undoubtedly his, Harry somehow knew, he felt it in his hands.

‘That’s amazing! How did she even recover that?’ Mr Weasley was astonished.

‘Well good brooms are fairly resistant, so long as it only hit a roof or something… and McGonagall can turn herself into a cat,’ commented Charlie, who had been a Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, like Harry. ‘It probably broke only slightly, nothing she couldn’t repair.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ Harry couldn’t stop grinning, and rubbed his eyes, holding his broom like an old friend. ‘I thought I’d lost it forever, like Hedwig…’

Knowing it was the last gift Harry kept from Sirius, as hardly no one knew about the magical mirror that, in any case, only had a small piece left, they dispersed and made more tea while Harry sat down for several minutes just holding his broom and having a moment thinking of his godfather, not opening anything else until, after a long time, Ginny squeezed his shoulders and kissed his cheek from behind.

‘Should we keep going?’ she asked softly and he nodded, rubbing his eyes again and clearing his throat.

‘Sure, I’ll write her a thank you letter later,’ Harry put his broom aside, and continued to open gifts.

Andromeda and Teddy had gifted him a beautiful handmade, plaid, flannel shirt in navy blue, black and white colours and had emblazoned it with CAPTAIN GODFATHER stitched on the left chest, making him laugh, feeling so incredibly touched that he immediately went to change to put it on instead of the shirt he was wearing. He was amazed by how well it fit him, without his measures having been taken. Mr and Mrs Weasley gave him a large box and, when Harry opened, he found new beautiful robes that looked similar to the ones Aurors used, meaning they had a more practical for duel shape, with sleeves that were tighter around the arms instead of very loose, and a more comfortable length.

‘My brothers were Aurors, and they were always together, always wearing their so called lucky robes, so I gave Ron Gideon’s one, and you can take Fabian’s. I figured, it’s only right brothers inherit it, since you’re both so insistent in becoming Aurors as well. And it took five Death Eaters to take them down, so maybe they were lucky robes after all. And I know you don’t mind second-hand...’ Mrs Weasley told Harry quite sweetly. Speechless, Harry looked to Ron, who was smiling proudly, to Mrs Weasley, and he got up, and hugged her. ‘Oh, well…’

‘Mrs Weasley thank you,’ Harry was so touched he couldn’t even put it into words. It wasn’t just the gift from her dead brother, but the fact that she’d called Harry and Ron brothers and Ron had been so happy with it. ‘This is perfect. Thank you, thank you… I’ll always wear them, they’ll be my lucky robes.’

Mrs Weasley grinned, rubbing her eyes.

‘It’s nothing, nothing…’

‘It’s everything,’ Harry grinned, lifting the robes to check the size. ‘Looks like he was about my height.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Mrs Weasley agreed.

Like Quidditch robes, his new robes only closed in the front of the torso, leaving the “skirt” loose for him to move easily. Harry’s robes were beautiful, of some material that seemed warm and weatherproof, with a large hoodie, and silver fasteners. Harry couldn’t be more grateful.

Bill and Fleur had gifted him a book titled 50 Things Every Adult Wizard in Britain Should Know , which came in handy, because it explained matters such as taxes, bureaucracy, or housing; Charlie gave him amazing travel boots from Romania; Percy another book, History and Adventures of the British Auror Headquarters , which struck Harry as interesting; George an assortment of fireworks from the shop, which Harry gave him back making him promise he’ll be in charge of lightning them for the party planned for the night. Luna and Neville had each also sent a gift, but Harry was surprised to find nothing from Ron, Hermione and Hagrid. Not like he minded much, and he knew Ron and Hermione were both quite broke now, but he had thought there would at least be a letter, or candy.

‘Hagrid, Ron and I teamed up this year,’ said Hermione, as if guessing his thoughts. ‘Ron’s got it.’

Ron appeared down the stairs and, to Harry’s astonishment, he was holding a cage with an owl.

‘It’s not Hedwig but… well, since she turned out to be so great and Hagrid found her, we let him find this one. We haven’t named her yet, we wouldn’t,’ Ron passed Harry the cage. ‘We hope it’s okay… we just knew you wouldn’t get one yourself because you’d feel like betraying Hedwig, but you’re going to need one when Ginny goes to Hogwarts. Pig can only do so many trips to Scotland, and I’ll have him busy myself too…’

The owl in the cage hooted towards Harry. It was medium-sized, and it was unlike any owl Harry had ever seen before, with a bright orange face, black eyes, a chocolate face and wings, and white stripes on his wings. The front was white and puffy, with chocolate stripes.

‘It’s a Spotted Wood Owl,’ said Hermione. ‘Common in areas like Singapore, but then again Snowy Owls are supposed to be Arctic, so I guess they get brought up from all over. Anyway, you can change it for another if you want…’

‘No,’ Harry reached with a finger, and the owl closed its eyes as Harry pet her head with the finger, ‘I like it. Hedwig looked quite unique and so does this one, we’ll just have to find her a proper name. A cool one,’ he was conflicted, because he knew he needed an owl but he missed Hedwig and doubted any other would charm him half as much, but this one looked so strange and beautiful at once, and she seemed to like him, and it was a nice gesture from his friends, he didn’t even know how they paid for her. ‘Thanks guys,’ he smiled at Ron and Hermione. ‘I like her. She seems nice.’

‘I let her out a few times just to see how good she was, and she’s been really good,’ said Ron. ‘Won’t even eat the rats on my face, very polite.’ Harry snorted a laugh, scratching the head of his new owl.

‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘We’ll be fast friends, I’m sure.’

By the time the afternoon came, Harry had named his new owl Astra, and had let her go out after having her perched on his shoulder for hours (the owl just wouldn’t move), so that now, he, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were sitting in Bill and Charlie’s old bedroom, as it was bigger, chatting. Harry was unpacking and, after Ron and Hermione had told them about their two months, in which Hermione had mostly been with her parents but had taken Ron on a few adventures of their own, and their birthday presents for their last birthdays, which they had also received on the day, Ginny was showing them the travel photographs and telling them about their own adventures.

‘What’s this?’ asked Harry, suddenly spotting two letters on his desk, as he was the one occupying that bedroom. ‘One’s not even for me, it’s yours, Ginny. Looks like Hogwarts letters, but I’m not going…’

‘Oh yes, they’re McGonagall’s,’ said Ron while Harry passed Ginny her own letter. ‘I reckon that’s your school shopping, Ginny. I must’ve left both here by accident, sorry.’

‘Thanks. Great, a normal list,’ said Ginny, and looked up to Hermione while Harry read his own. ‘Did you also get yours?’

‘I did. I’ve been made Head Girl this year,’ said Hermione with a smirk.

‘Congratulations! You kept that quiet!’ Ginny grinned at her, patting her shoulder.

‘Can’t say it’s unexpected, but congrats,’ said Harry, smiling at his friend. ‘And Ginny, congratulations to you too.’

‘What for?’

‘Well,’ Harry was holding a small silver and red badge with a “C” in the middle, grinning, ‘you’re the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.’ He handed her the badge and Ginny squealed.

‘What? What are you talking about?’

‘Quidditch was suspended last year, which means I was our last Captain,’ said Harry. ‘This letter was McGonagall’s asking me to give the badge to whoever I think should have it next, apparently it’s part of my former duties. She must’ve known I’d choose you, since you always substituted me as such, and as Seeker, and knowing we’re together… she knew I could give it to you. Congrats!’

‘Wait, but you can’t make me captain just because we’re dating!’

‘Are you insane? Ginny, who else would it be?’ Harry asked rhetorically. ‘Everyone I played with for the longest has left Hogwarts now, and out of the remaining team I last saw, you’re the most talented, experienced and skilled player going back to Hogwarts, not too mention you were already captaining when I couldn’t. You’ve earned this, it’s got nothing to do with us dating.’

‘In that case…’ Ginny squeaked, taking her badge, and kissed him briefly. ‘Thank you.’

‘Another Captain in the family,’ Ron patted her back enthusiastically. ‘Well done Ginny.’

‘You’re going to love the Prefect baths. They’re like a pool, I’ll show you,’ said Hermione with a smile.

‘I’ll give you my Quidditch stuff, it’s all practically new,’ said Harry. ‘You could even take my broom if you want.’

‘It’s okay, Firebolts are awesome but it’s been five years since that one came out, maybe I can get my parents to get me a newer broom for my birthday. Nothing too fancy,’ said Ginny happily as they all sat down together, occupying cushions on the floor around a little flame in a glass jar.

‘What else do you need?’ Harry took the list from Ginny. ‘I can give you most of these, Ginny, my books are practically unused, especially History of Magic’s ones… if you want.’

‘Between inheriting yours in a very good state, my brothers’ in a poor state, or Merlin knows what second-hand ones from the shop, I’ll take yours. Thanks baby.’

Ron raised eyebrows at the new nickname and Hermione smiled, but neither said anything.

‘No problem. Grab my ink bottles and parchments too, I’ve got plenty… we should take care of this list soon, in case we struggle to find providers if any other shops have closed.’

‘I thought we could go on Monday, the four of us,’ said Hermione. ‘If only Ginny and I have things to buy, and it’ll mostly be me, I don’t see why we should bother Molly.’

‘Absolutely,’ Ginny agreed. ‘You guys don’t have to go to the Ministry yet, right?’

‘We’re waiting until September,’ replied Ron. ‘It’ll be fine. We’ll help carry your things. How many million books are you bringing this year, Hermione?’ he teased with half a smile, nudging her with the elbow. She rolled eyes, but didn’t bark at him.

‘Just a few… Seventh Years have tons of subjects, I’ll have you know. Many amazing ones only become available in the final year.’

‘Oh God, you’re going to need a Time-Turner again, won’t you?’ Harry dreaded.

‘I’m not that crazy,’ Hermione replied. ‘No, this year nothing’s overlapping, besides, being Head Girl I don’t want to fill my schedule too much with other things… no, I’m taking Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Advanced Arithmancy, Study of Ancient Runes and Alchemy, a new one. But who we need to worry about is Ginny, whatever she picks now is what she can continue with next year, and is essential for any job she ever wants.’

‘Oh, I’m not going back next year,’ said Ginny.

‘Really?’ Harry looked curious at her. He’d half expected her to ultimately decide to go.

‘I want to be a professional Quidditch player, I don’t need Hogwarts for that,’ said Ginny.

‘Yes Ginny, but even if you make it, you’ll only be able to play for a few years before you get old, you need a plan B,’ Ron pointed out. ‘You’ll have to think about that.’

‘I have, plenty. When I retire from playing, I’ll become a Quidditch correspondent, a journalist. Quidditch is what I like most, and I like writing on my own at home without having to go to some grey office, so when I can’t play, I’ll travel around, go to games and write about it.’

‘Sounds great,’ Harry looked proudly at her. ‘So no Advanced Arithmacy for you.’

Ginny snorted a laugh, shaking her head.

‘No, I’ve decided to keep things light this year, in case it’s not so easy to get back on the grind,’ said Ginny. ‘I’m taking things that I enjoy, and I passed all my O.W.L.s so I can pick whatever I want.’

‘Are you kidding? Even History of Magic?’ Harry looked astonished at her.

‘Harry it’s essentially tales,’ Ginny smiled with amusement. ‘It’s like memorizing adventures, no biggie. Besides, I studied very hard and was compensated properly for my efforts by my wonderful boyfriend.’ She added looking sweetly at him.

‘Remind me to thank him,’ said Harry, smirking. ‘So what are you taking?’

‘Herbology, DADA, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Astronomy, and Care of Magical Creatures. I’m fond of Hagrid, and his classes are practically an hour off, so it’s okay.’

‘You’re suicidal. I wouldn’t go back to one of those even if they paid me,’ said Ron.

‘Excuse me for enjoying being outdoors taking care of cute beasts,’ said Ginny. ‘I’m that weird. I’m also doing Muggle Studies, Hermione helped me ace my O.W.L.s and I think upon closer reconsideration, it’s important to know about our friendly neighbours.’

‘Good for you,’ Hermione grinned at her proudly, and handed the travel pictures back. ‘Beautiful pictures, glad you guys had fun. We went to Grimmauld Place a couple times for dinner, Kreacher was very sweet to us. Thanks Harry.’

‘My pleasure, keep the keys,’ said Harry. ‘You should both move in, you know? Pick a room, any, and move in for the in-between Hogwarts times.’

‘Maybe next year, thanks though,’ Hermione replied happily. ‘This year I’m planning on spending my time between wherever Ron lands, my sister, and Hogwarts. My parents have invited Ron to spend any part of the Christmas holidays with us, his choice.’

‘Doing New Year’s Eve, because it’s probably not a good year to leave Mum for Christmas,’ Ron pointed out. ‘It was very nice of them to invite me. Hermione’s family is renting a house in the Alps for the holidays, it’ll be cool, Mr Granger has promised to teach me to ski, and Hermione says I’ll meet her cousins and all.’

‘It’s time, everyone’s heard loads about you,’ said Hermione cheerfully. Harry noticed she had a new necklace, a thin silver chain with a pendant that seemed to be a small amethyst inside a silver circle, but he didn’t comment. He knew it was a sweet gift from Ron right away, and was happy for them.

‘Getting serious uh?’ Ginny teased, making them blush. ‘Well good for you. We’ll hold the fort down here.’

‘I’ve been thinking, since I’m going to work on getting the house in Grimmauld Place in nice shape to sell it next year, why don’t we all have Christmas lunch together? Or, I don’t know, Christmas Eve dinner if it works better for everyone? It’s in London so Hermione can bring anyone she wants quite easily, and it’s huge so there’s plenty of space for everyone at the table,’ Harry proposed. ‘Andromeda could come with Teddy, all the Weasleys would fit, Kreacher would help with the cooking, your Mum doesn’t have to cook for everyone.’

‘Actually, it’d be quite nice not to have to divide myself for once,’ said Hermione thoughtfully. ‘My parents could be on board, if we’re spending the rest of the holidays with the rest of the family, and Elaine could play together, surely they’ll be old enough to sit up and play some by then.’

Ron and Ginny exchanged thoughtful looks and nodded.

‘It’d be nice,’ said Ginny. ‘Like last Christmas we had Sirius, we could decorate, and if Kreacher is being such a nice elf as you guys say… he’d be an enjoyable company. And Hagrid could come too, if he wants. Why don’t we tell my parents? Better now that I’m here to convince them.’

‘We can do it tonight,’ Harry agreed, happy that the others were on board.

‘What about work though? If we’re training with the Aurors, do we know we’ll have the day off?’ Ron wondered.

‘Kingsley has a family, he’ll understand this year more than any other is important for us to stick together on the big days, and if you’re all going to be struggling with Fred’s absence, and Andromeda with Remus and Tonks… then you shouldn’t do it alone,’ said Harry.

‘Exactly. Family sticks together,’ Hermione smiled, wrapping an arm around Ron’s neck. ‘It’ll be better if we’re together.’

‘I don’t want us to depress your family, though,’ said Ron. ‘I mean it sounds like a really great plan, far better than what I’d pictured, but I don’t want to ruin your parents’ Christmas. Merlin knows my Mum might spend the whole day crying.’

‘Very noble of you, but seriously, my parents will want to be there, I know them,’ assured Hermione. ‘Besides… I told them it wasn’t just rough for you. I lost my friends that day, a few of them, even Lavender, we shared a room together for six years and regardless of her dating the guy I liked and our ups and downs… she was still my friend at the end of the day. And Remus, and Tonks… and to be honest, I don’t think it’ll be super fun to return to Hogwarts just to find half my old classmates and friends are either not coming or dead, and if I’m moping around on Christmas with the Muggles, who can I talk about it with? I can’t exactly say oh yes, I was at war and then at some battle in my school and a bunch of my friends were murdered in front of my eyes. At Grimmauld Place, I don’t have to spend Christmas Day lying and hiding stuff from people I love, and my parents want to be there for me too, they feel bad they missed so much and couldn’t help.’

Harry, Ron and Ginny looked at her in a mixture of shock and surprise. It sounded different when Hermione put the last months’ events like that, it made it all more real to them, and it forced them to recognise what they were going through was no small feat, and it was far from over, even if the battle was. But it also reminded them that it was different for Hermione, who had to go to a Muggle home, Muggle family, Muggle friends, and pretend like she was just happy to be back from witness’ protection, like she’d had a wonderful year just chilling in Australia under a false identity.

‘You’re right. Sorry I didn’t realise… of course it has to be really strange for you. And hard,’ Ron mumbled, but Hermione smiled and shook her head.

‘That’s fine. Even I don’t realise sometimes but…’ she sighed. ‘I’m used to us being together, three months without you is enough. Let’s do Christmas.’

‘I’ll go speak to Molly now, on a second thought,’ said Harry getting up. ‘If it makes her sad, she’ll have time to recover before the party.’

When Harry trotted downstairs, he found Mrs Weasley busy preparing the party for the evening, waving her wand to get things in the kitchen moving. The rest of the family seemed to have dispersed for the afternoon.

‘Mrs Weasley,’ said Harry, ‘can I talk to you for a moment?’

‘Of course dear,’ Mrs Weasley beamed, cleaned her hands on a towel and turned to him. ‘What is it?’

‘Ginny, Hermione, Ron and I have been thinking,’ said Harry. ‘And… well, I don’t know if you heard, but I am selling 12 Grimmauld Place, I don’t really want it, it’s too big, too gloomy, too Black in the worst way, and it’s full of stairs and I’m not sure it’s the safest of places, as it’s vulnerable to anyone Yaxley, who it was accidentally revealed to, might’ve shown. And I miss having a garden,’ he half smiled.

‘But we’ve been helping you make it prettier,’ said Mrs Weasley, confused.

‘Yes, actually that’s to sell it next year,’ said Harry. ‘But I’ll still have it until then, and it being so big… I want to lend it over for us to host Christmas there together. We always end up a little cramped here, and then you get stressed out trying to make space… and I don’t want you getting stressed out. Kreacher’s been completely different, really kind, we made amends, so we’ll give the house a make-over, make it cosy and beautiful for Christmas, decorate it all over, and I’ll light the fireplace in the kitchen, in front of that huge wooden table and we can all sit there and enjoy a big feast lunch with like… all sorts of things. I’ll convince George to have fireworks from the rooftop even if it confuses the hell out of Muggles who can’t see where they’re coming from, we’ll have Andromeda over, and Hermione can bring her parents because it’s all in London, it won’t be difficult for her, and we can all… be together. That’s the whole point of the day, isn’t it?’

Mrs Weasley smiled sadly and nodded, looking down and twiddling with her apron.

‘Of course Harry, makes sense… it’ll be better there…’

‘You’re worried about being a party popper,’ said Harry plainly.

‘Well,’ Mrs Weasley shrugged and looked at him with a small smile. ‘Yes.’

‘Can’t be more of a party popper than I will be,’ said Harry with half a smirk. ‘This Christmas I’m going to miss the Potters, grandparents I never even knew, Sirius singing Christmas carols, Tonks turning her nose into a pig, Remus getting gloomy about the newspapers, Dumbledore’s pre-Christmas speeches, Hagrid dragging those huge trees into Hogwarts, Fred and George being a borderline criminal duo in the best of ways, Moody’s hardcore presence, my friend Dobby the free elf with his mismatched socks and his hundred hats one on top of the other…’ they looked at each other, both rather tearful. ‘But happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.’

Mrs Weasley looked at him with curiosity, rubbing her eyes.

‘That sounds like something Dumbledore would say.’

‘I think I’m becoming a bit more like him every day, hopefully,’ Harry chuckled, and rubbed his own eyes with a hand sneaking under his glasses. ‘Let’s be party poppers together, Mrs Weasley.’

‘All right, on one condition.’

‘Anything.’

‘You call us by name,’ said Mrs Weasley, and Harry raised his eyebrows, surprised. ‘Arthur and I talked about it and it doesn’t make sense that the two people who love our children the most after us are in such formal terms with us, who are family too. We already told Hermione… so now you know.’

Speechless, Harry hugged her tight, and Mrs Weasley squeezed him back in response and motherly kissed the top of his head, patting his cheeks lovingly as he separated.

‘We’re really happy about you and Ginny, you know?’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘Because if you’re together then it’s not just us knowing Ginny’s with a good man… but also knowing you’re with the right kind of woman. And since you’re our son too, with all due respect to Lily and James… we want you to be with someone right too.’

‘I’m sure they wouldn’t mind sharing me with the best family in the world,’ said Harry, grinning. ‘Thanks… Molly. And I promise you, I will never hurt Ginny if I can help it. I want to make her happier than she’s ever been, I know it’s a challenge when she’s been raised here… but I’m happy to try.’

‘I know,’ Mrs Weasley smiled broadly. ‘Just make sure not to forget your own happiness in the way, uh? Don’t be the kind of hero who puts everyone before himself far too much.’

‘I’ll try.’

Returning upstairs, Harry felt light headed and couldn’t stop smiling. As he opened the door, Ginny snorted a laugh at his funny face.

‘I take is a yes?’ she asked. Harry nodded.

‘Your Mum is the best woman there is, seriously.’

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: A family man.

That evening, everyone was coming to The Burrow for Ron, Hermione and Harry’s birthday party, as it had been Harry’s only birthday wish to give the day to his best friends too, as Hermione’s birthday had passed completely unseen before Ron left them a couple of months later, while they had no calendar and weren’t quite keeping track of the days, and Ron’s had similarly gone unnoticed as they were focused on survival and figuring out what to do with Xenophilius Lovegood’s information about the Deathly Hallows. Harry had insisted that he had already blown his own candles with Ginny and it’d be bad luck to do it again, so Hermione and Ron should blow their candles on the large cake Mrs Weasley had made. Hermione and Ron, flattered, were happy to blow their candles together, not wanting more hustle turning them on and off again, as they had both turned the same age anyway.

Their friends from Dumbledore’s Army were all coming, as were members of the Order of the Phoenix such as Hagrid and Kingsley, Andromeda with Teddy, the Weasleys, and Hermione’s parents and little sister, who were slowly but surely learning to hang around wizards and witches and not touch anything magical that could be potentially dangerous.

Harry knew everyone was going to be trying to make his day special for him, so he took it upon his shoulders to make his day Ron and Hermione’s day too, to make it special for them, giving them their presents he’d acquired during his trip with Ginny, making sure they had seats of honour at the table rather than him, and that the banners said happy birthday trio, instead of his name being on them. It didn’t matter how much he was told he could have his own day and Ron and Hermione really didn’t mind, Harry was set on making it a celebration of his best friends’ lives, which to him were precious.

The Weasleys had done a remarkable job as well. They installed the large marquee of Bill and Fleur’s wedding, set several tables together, put the giant cake in the middle and put balloons and decorations everywhere. Even Harry had managed to convince George to cheer up and prepare a fireworks spectacle.

‘For your brother and Hermione,’ Harry had insisted to George. ‘We’re counting on you, you’re our expert in fun.’

‘You’re a really weird guy,’ George had said, rolling eyes but half smiling. ‘I’ll do my best, but I can’t make big promises. Fred was the best for these things…’

‘Your best is perfect for us.’

Ultimately, it was a massive party, in a large way because of Harry. He cooked with Mrs Weasley, cleaned like everyone else, entertained Teddy and Elaine with magic, and kept the spirits up for everyone. Nobody had ever seen him care at all about his birthday before and make such a big fuss out of it, and it wasn’t even for him, but for Ron and Hermione, so they were all quite impressed.

‘Make a big, fat wish,’ Harry told his best friends with a grin before they could blow their candles, after the most numerous participation on a birthday song ever witnessed. Touched and looking at the impressive cake they stood in front of, Hermione and Ron exchanged a smile and holding hands, unconsciously made the same wish without sharing it out loud, to a choir of applause.

They all sat down to enjoy the amazing dinner and cake and it was hard to believe they’d been in rock bottom just months before, judging by the atmosphere of joy and laughter. Ginny and Harry sat across Hermione and Ron, who were surrounded by their families and friends and visibly having the best time, when Ginny leaned to whisper in Harry’s ear:

‘It’s really amazing, you doing this for them… but why? They usually celebrate their birthdays in Hogwarts, they’re never huge deals.’

‘All the more reason then, right?’ replied Harry, before smiling and standing up, holding his cup. ‘Please, I want to make a toast!’

The conversation quickly died down and they all turned to hear what Harry had to say, surprised because he wasn’t really one to make toasts for anyone, ever. But Harry was looking like he was beaming with the force of the sun, so it surely had to be good.

‘I never used to care about birthdays, because I didn’t use to have people who would remember them or care about them,’ said Harry. ‘But then one day I made these amazing friends who gave me this amazing home, and in it, everyone cared, there were home-made cakes and gifts, and a proper dinner surrounded by people who cared. And I realised those little things that seem so frivolous and superficial… sometimes they matter. Sometimes they might be the whole reason why someone feels their existence matters at all. Ron and Hermione are the best friends… siblings… that one could ever ask for and they deserve to know they matter and people truly care about them, and I know giving them that gift was a far better present than anything I could buy them anywhere,’ Harry grinned, even as Ron stared dumbfounded and Hermione looked to be struggling not to get emotional. ‘So I want to thank you all for helping me do that tonight and be here for them.

‘You see, Hermione and Ron always do everything for everyone, they’ve saved my neck a dozen times and they’re always there no matter what, always believing in me even when I don’t. And you know what they did on their last birthdays? Nothing. None of us realised the day it was, I didn’t bother to get a calendar, to do something… I still thought birthdays are too frivolous and not that important and anyway it’s just getting old, so who cares? So we spent it working on tackling some big issues and surviving the day and… unfortunately it’s taken a lot of people dying for me to realise that we really should care about birthdays, and they should be a huge deal, and they should always be celebrated, wishes being made even if they’re silly, cakes eaten… because they’re the whole opposite to funerals and if we celebrate those… then all the more reason to celebrate birthdays.

‘So yes, birthdays are about getting old, getting to a point where we get white hair and wrinkles, start balding and can no longer walk straight, and that shouldn’t be depressing, not when growing old is a privilege not many get to have these days. Birthdays celebrate life, making it another year, the prospect of a new year of adventures and love. So here’s to Hermione and Ron getting old and wrinkly,’ Harry beamed at his best friends, everyone raising their glasses, ‘to the most loyal, selfless people I know. I never want to see a day not growing old with you two. Cheers!’

‘CHEERS!’

Hermione rubbed her eyes and drank her butterbeer, grinning, and Ron kissed her as soon as they had drank, before getting up and both running to give Harry a hug and a thank you. But Harry wasn’t done making this day the best he could for them, and still had some surprises up his sleeve.

When he indicated to everyone, after dinner, to get up for the real party, everyone was very confused, as they were in the real party. So they were even more surprised and astonished when a small stage appeared out of the blue and Ginny’s favourite band, The Weird Sisters , showed up and began to play some good music for heavy dancing, making the large group rush to dance and have fun. And yet at some point, Harry found Ron, both sweaty from the dancing, and dragged him away from the girls with the pretext of grabbing some drinks.

‘Hey mate amazing party, how did you even book them? This is amazing!’ Ron said with excitement, but Harry looked serious.

‘There’s no time. Remember the Yule Ball? You made Hermione cry and you never asked her out and never danced with her.’

‘You had to remind me,’ grumbled Ron.

‘Listen, that night after we left, what Ginny calls the most romantic song ever written was played,’ said Harry. ‘She’s biased because this is her favourite band, fine, but ever since she told me I couldn’t help thinking that you and Hermione should’ve gotten to dance to that. So this is your chance to go back in time and do it all over again, the right way, with her.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Go ask her on a dance, forget the drinks,’ Harry pushed a confused Ron back towards the girls and raised a hand as a signal to the band, so that the lead singer, a long-haired rock-star called Myron Wagtail, took the microphone to announce a change of rhythm.

‘Now, time to calm down with one of our star ballads, so find the one you love and hold each other close. This is Magic Works.’

Harry grinned, watching as an astonished Hermione accepted Ron’s hand and they found the middle of the dance floor, embracing each other. He knew they hadn’t said the “l” word to each other, but they could show it, as it was definitely then. He saw many other couples find a spot in the improvised dance floor, the Grangers, Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur… even George and his friend Angelina were dancing together, and Luna and Neville. Harry’s eyes went over the multitude and found Ginny staring at her favourite band, swaying with the song. Beaming, he rushed to her, hugging her from behind and kissing her cheek.

‘May I have this dance?’ Harry asked her sweetly, making her smile.

‘And all that come after.’

Dancing with Ginny, Harry lost count of time, and awareness of space. It seemed like there was nothing more important than Ginny’s arms around his neck, that the curves of her back below his palms, and the smell of her perfume and shampoo, the softness of her hair against his cheek, the pressure of her chest against his. Nothing mattered but Ginny. She was the single most important person in Harry’s life, because she held his ability to be in love, the best jokes, the bravest and toughest heart to support his, and all the things that were most important for Harry to have in his life. He wanted to dance with her every day, to move in coordinated waves with a melody that wasn’t always audible to everyone else, to breathe her in and feel her in his lungs, in the butterflies in his stomach and against his skin, he wanted to be with her, every day, all the time, continuously, and he didn’t care if the song outside was changing, because inside, they were always dancing to the same song and no words were needed.

And yet, after a long while, Harry was woken from the haze he’d gotten himself in when Ginny moved to separate, smiling apologetically.

‘I really have to go to the loo,’ she said. ‘And rest my feet five minutes?’

‘Of course,’ Harry nodded, grinning, and saw her go back into the house.

He felt drunk, even though he’d hardly had drinks, but it was the effect Ginny had on him. Now the music seemed louder, and it took Harry a second to find himself again and look around, finding Hermione and Ron engrossed in each other, dancing like it was their last day on Earth, and then Mr and Mrs Granger sitting at a table with Elaine. Harry walked towards them.

‘Hi. May I?’ he gestured to one of the chairs.

‘Sure, Harry,’ Mr Granger nodded with a smile. ‘Incredible party, congrats.’

‘Oh, anything for them.’

‘And you said very nice things about them,’ added Mrs Granger, holding her youngest daughter.

Up close, Harry saw Elaine had grown a lot since the last time he’d seen her, and her resemblance to her sister was more and more uncanny. She was almost seven months old now, and with the music she was wide awake, looking at Harry with familiar brown eyes and stretching a chubby hand to touch his beard, which he let her do with a chuckle.

‘What I said was all true,’ added Harry. ‘You have a remarkable elder daughter. One of the best women I’ll ever know, and the most skilled witch of our generation.’

‘Thank you,’ Mrs Granger smiled. ‘So Harry, we trust your judgement, for all we’ve heard about you. Hermione and Ron, good or not so good? You know them better than anyone at this point.’

Harry felt this response required his full attention and seriousness, so he looked up from Elaine to her parents to talk to them.

‘Ron is the most loyal of men, who will never deceive her, manipulate her, play her, be unfaithful to her, or otherwise knowingly hurt her in any way, not on purpose. He isn’t just funny, he’s hilarious, he doesn’t take life too overly seriously, he finds joy in the smallest of things, he settles with little, he’s easy to keep happy, and yes he can be a bit the jealous type and a bit insensitive and clumsy at times, but he’s got this tremendous ability to always admit when he’s in the wrong, even if it takes him time, and always apologise with sincere regret and vow to do better. And he’s one of the bravest, most selfless men I’ve ever known. And to me, Hermione is the sister I never had, so I’m judgemental of every man that even attempts to woo her, and Ron is the only guy I’d not just approve of, but be relieved they chose each other. They’re a brilliant couple, truly. Even if sometimes they drive each other mad. And… I know he hasn’t said it yet, but I’m sure he’s very much in love with your daughter.’

Mrs and Mr Granger chuckled, evidently amused.

‘That’s what we hoped for,’ said Mr Granger.

‘Oh, Harry, sorry to interrupt,’ Andromeda had appeared, holding Teddy, who was yawning and half asleep against her chest. ‘We better go home, it’s late and Teddy’s falling asleep.’

‘Sure,’ Harry got up, smiling and kissing the top of Teddy’s head before hugging Andromeda. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘Thank you for inviting us. And happy birthday again. Mr Granger, Mrs Granger, lovely to meet you.’

As the evening advanced, Harry devoted some time to catching up with his friends. Neville and Luna were doing great now, and Neville surprised Harry informing him that he was also taking on an offer by Kingsley to join the Aurors, like his parents before him, whereas Luna was returning to Hogwarts with Ginny and Hermione.

The party wasn’t going to go on for too long, because it was going to be a busy weekend. After spending June and July very busy reforming the laws and the Ministry, Kingsley had also found some time to give Orders of Merlin left and right to those who had fought against Voldemort the hardest, but since Harry and Ginny were gone, he had decided to leave the most important ones for the very end. Therefore, on Sunday just two days after Harry’s birthday, Kingsley would be awarding the Order of Merlin, First Class, to Dumbledore’s Army and the Order of the Phoenix, the only ones to receive a First Class one. And afterwards, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville would receive the Most Noble Order of Dumbledore, a new, unique to them, decoration established by Kingsley. They would be the last to be decorated for the fight against Voldemort.

So after a few hours, people began to go, Hermione bid farewell to her parents and Elaine, who would be staying at Ottery St Catchpole before getting a train home in the morning, and the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione retreated inside, cleaning up and tidying after the party.

‘I still can’t believe you got The Weird Sisters to play here,’ said Ginny, still dazed, as they walked back upstairs to get ready for bed. ‘The Weird Sisters! In my house!’

Harry grinned at her, but was surprised when Ron grabbed his elbow from behind.

‘Harry, d’you mind coming with me for a bit? You ladies go ahead, we’ll join you in a little bit,’ said Ron, looking up from Harry to the girls several steps ahead of them.

Surprised, Harry nodded and followed him outside. They walked together in the garden, illuminated by fairy lights hung around the trees and the bushes.

‘Listen, uh…’ Ron paused, facing him. He looked oddly serious. ‘Thank you, mate.’

‘I haven’t done anything.’

‘Are you kidding? All of this today, for Hermione and I?’

‘Oh,’ Harry shrugged and smiled. ‘It’s nothing, but I’m glad you liked it. Did you have fun then?’

‘Loads. I’d forgotten what a proper party was like,’ said Ron. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever partied quite like this… even at Bill’s wedding, we were too stressed.’

‘True.’

‘Anyway, I’ve been watching you and… I think after all we’ve gone through together we haven’t quite bothered to clear out the air on some things.’

‘There’s nothing we need to clear out,’ said Harry, confused. ‘What are you on about?’

‘Harry, come on…’ Ron shifted awkwardly and it suddenly dawned on Harry that Ron was trying to have a heart to heart, but those were so rare between them that he was embarrassed and awkward. They were men, they didn’t quite talk about things.

‘I’m not resentful for anything, or mad, or… nothing. We’re fine.’

‘I get possessive, okay? And defensive and jealous… I was jealous of your fame, your popularity, the way you could get anybody’s attention so easily, I was sick and tired of being the last Weasley boy who has nothing remarkable about him—,’ Ron said in a sudden ramble, as if he had been dying to burst for years.

‘You are remarkable, you were never—,’

‘I know that now. I made myself small just by not making the effort to try and excel at something just because I wouldn’t be the first one, since my brothers had already done all the big firsts like becoming a prefect. And all so that in the end it turns out that the only person who thought I was less than others was me and people whose opinions don’t matter in the slightest, like Malfoy,’ Ron admitted, his ears scarlet. ‘But you were patient. You gave me opportunities to excel, and let me have it. Let me be the best at Quidditch, let me be the first Keeper in my family, and you chose me as a best mate, as the one to tag along in your adventures… and I was still constantly jealous at you. Jealous you were popular and rich, getting possessive with Ginny and Hermione and then getting jealous of Hermione’s friendship with you, thinking you wanted something with her… and you’ve never held any of it against me, even when I literally told her to pick between you and me.’

‘Ron, all of that is centuries old,’ said Harry. ‘I understand why you used to be so prone to jealousy, I get it, I wouldn’t resent you for that any more, we were stupid kids having stupid fights, it’s nothing bigger than that. As for what happened out there with the Horcrux… it was the Horcrux. Not you.’

‘The Horcrux only took advantage of feelings that were already there Harry, you know that. It just exaggerates things, pokes the wound a bit too much,’ said Ron. ‘I was jealous of you both. I did believe you two were up to something on the romance side. And since I always struggled so much to feel good enough for everyone… well, at times I was quite sure Hermione didn’t think I was good enough for her, but you were.’

‘Well you were proved wrong. Hermione and I could’ve never had anything,’ said Harry. ‘I thought that part was clear, Ron. I thought we were done with that.’

‘We are, it’s all clear, that’s why I dragged you here. Harry, I’m saying thank you for not holding things against me, for having such a high opinion of me in spite of things, for helping me see my worth,’ said Ron awkwardly looking away, too embarrassed to look at Harry in the eyes. ‘And for this huge party for us… it was a very nice gesture.’

‘Oh,’ Harry nodded. ‘All right. You’re welcome. Now let’s forget all that shit forever, okay? It’s all ancient water under the bridge.’

‘Just one last thing,’ added Ron, looking at him. ‘I’ve seen what you’re doing to my family. The way Ginny’s now so cheerful and much more herself, even when we had that bad fight… she had the energy and stubbornness for it, which was already a good indication. I’d be more worried if she shut up and didn’t fight me when I piss her off, to be honest.’

‘You’re not wrong…’

‘And you hug my Mum and whatever it is you say to her, she always seems happier after talking to you. You entertain my Dad’s obsession with Muggle things, you find stuff to talk about with Bill, Fleur and Charlie, you treat Percy respectfully in spite of the shit he did to you, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re making George get back to his old self through commissioning his services so he has no option but to get back on the saddle.’

‘I thought I was being smooth,’ Harry half smiled.

‘You don’t know what smooth means,’ Ron teased, snorting a laugh. ‘And then… you lift Andromeda’s spirits up, you look after Teddy, and your relationship to Hermione… I’ve been watching, seeing when you two disappear for a private moment… don’t worry, I swear I’m not jealous any more. Quite the contrary, I finally see how much good you do to each other as brother and sister, how invaluable your friendship is. It’s not too different from me and my brothers and Ginny. It’s family.’

‘Exactly.’

‘And you even make an effort to include the Grangers in our world. I’ve been a bit too down to notice but while you and Ginny were away, and Hermione was helping me keep my head up, I realised just how much you do here. You clean, you cook, you do our laundry, you take care of all of us like… like family.’

‘Like you do for me. All of you.’

‘Harry, when we were away I was unfair to you acting as if the only person who truly worried about my family in that tent was me. But you and Hermione… you’ve spent months taking care of us when I wasn’t okay enough to do it as well as you. And since Hermione’s had to look after her own, you’ve had the majority of the job, because my family has always been your family,’ said Ron. ‘So I want to thank you for that. I realise now… I was wrong. I never approved of you and Ginny.’

‘You didn’t?’ Harry scowled, suddenly afraid. ‘Shit Ron, I thought… I never would’ve—,’

‘I never not approved either,’ said Ron. ‘I mean I was never explicit about approving it, I just didn’t oppose,’ he clarified, to Harry’s relief. ‘But that’s not good enough. You cared enough to not have done anything with her if I hadn’t been all right with it. And you’re always taking care of my family… our family. Besides, I’ve seen you and Ginny together and honestly, she’s never looked so happy with anyone ever. I kept seeing you like another teenage boy my little sister was dating and I had to watch out for, when truth is you’re the only one I’ve never had to watch out for or worry about, you’d always have our backs, even if things with her didn’t work out. You would always be one of us. Always caring about us, loyal to this family.’

‘Of course.’

‘So I want to welcome you to the family, properly. You’re my brother. This house is your house, my parents are your in-laws or whatever, and Ginny… I’ll be a very happy guy if you end up married to her, father of my nephews and nieces, making her happy forever. I not only approve of this, I am fucking relieved you’re the one she’s picked,’ said Ron, and Harry beamed at the unexpected surprise. He’d always assumed Ron was okay with them, but to get such enthusiastic and explicit approval made him incredibly happy. ‘I know you had sex with her, by the way.’

‘What? How—,’

Ron laughed.

‘Actually I didn’t, but I know now,’ said Ron, and Harry blushed, mortified. ‘Relax… I know you must’ve done it great, and that you actually made love, you know, that you took care of her properly, you always do. In any case… now I know I don’t have to worry about you, I’m done meddling. I don’t care what you do in private, I won’t ask questions, won’t give looks… so long as you make her happy, I’m happy. And if you ever struggle with her… I want you to count on me, even if it’s a bit weird, because I know her like no one else and I’ll help you. I want you to be endgame.’

‘Woah, Ron… thank you. Really, it means a lot.’

‘It also meant a lot to have that dance with Hermione,’ Ron admitted. ‘You were right. It’s time to do things right. So, welcome to the family, man.’

Ron offered his hand and Harry shook it, grinning.

‘Thank you.’

‘And mate,’ added Ron, blushing heavily now. ‘If Hermione and I are ever endgame…’

‘I bloody hope so.’

‘You’ll be our Best Man, right?’

‘Only if you’re mine,’ they grinned at each other, and shook hands with renovated enthusiasm.

Chapter Text

On Sunday morning, the second day of August, everyone at The Burrow was rather nervous, having a quick breakfast, those who could stomach it, and dressing in their very best attires. Harry and Ron put on their nicest trousers and shirts, put on ties, and then put on their new robes, inherited from Ron’s uncles Gideon and Fabian, from whom Harry had also inherited his watch the year before. Luckily for them, the robes kept in a very good state. Once downstairs, they met with the rest of the brothers and Mr Weasley, all of them wearing their nicest robes and wizard hats, even Percy, who would be the only Weasley not to be awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, because he had actually stood in the wrong side, never belonging to the Order of the Phoenix, until the actual battle, and even though he’d ultimately fought in their side, the Order of Merlin was supposed to reward years of service fighting against Voldemort, not just participating on one battle like a lot of people had. Still, Percy was smitten and didn’t seem to mind, happily patting some of Crookshanks’s hair off Ron’s dress robes. Crookshanks was Hermione’s big orange cat, who she had finally brought back to The Burrow. The cat had lived there while Hermione went on adventures with Harry and Ron, but it had then been taken with her to Australia, lived in London with Hermione’s parents for a couple months, and now returned, much to his joy, as nothing cheered Crookshanks quite like chasing garden gnomes.

‘Here,’ Mr Weasley approached Harry and Ron, and gave them nice, pointy black wizard hats. ‘See if they fit now, so I can change them if they don’t. They’re much nicer than your Hogwarts ones, used to be Bill and Percy’s, who took good care of their things. And a wizard should dress properly for these things, you’re adult men now, you need to look the part.’

‘Cool,’ Ron fit himself. ‘Yeah, this one must be Bill’s. We always had similar heads… I don’t think you need to change it, Dad.’

‘How about you, Harry?’

‘All good. Thanks, Arthur,’ Harry smiled gratefully, adjusting his hat. His hair was still a little longer than he’d ever worn it, but he’d allowed Molly to trim it a little the day before, and he had trimmed his beard to keep it very short, and clean-shaved his neck, so the hat helped hide how messy his hair inevitably got no matter what he did.

‘Looking wonderful, love,’ said Bill, and they turned to see Fleur coming downstairs in beautiful dress robes, even prettier than her Yule Ball ones. Fleur smiled warmly at her husband and kissed his scarred cheek, and George and Charlie pretended to vomit. They had actually arrived together from Shell Cottage, both of them and Charlie, but Fleur had gone to change in the loo, not wanting for her dress robes to get sandy around Shell Cottage, that was in a windy beach.

‘You’re always so zweet,’ said Fleur appreciatively, and Bill looked quite smitten.

Mrs Weasley arrived next, more beautiful than Harry had seen her since her eldest son’s wedding, and got similar compliments from her own husband, and when Ginny and Hermione came downstairs together a short time later, Harry and Ron both had similar feelings of having just been hit with Quidditch bats, because the ladies were looking absolutely jaw-dropping.

‘I don’t know how you always manage to be the prettiest girl in the room,’ Harry heard Ron murmur to Hermione all shyly as they all went outside to set off towards the Ministry. He saw Hermione blush and kiss his cheek, taking his hand in hers.

‘They’re so sweet it’s like someone gave them new personalities,’ Ginny commented, following Harry’s eyes as they walked together. She wore beautiful dress robes, brand new, an early birthday present from Harry. They had a slightly high neck that parted forming a discreet cleavage, were tighter around her curves, and had hanging sleeves, that nearly touched the floor as her hand was in Harry’s.

‘Perhaps that’s what love does to people,’ commented Harry.

‘Like being hit with a bludger.’

‘Precisely,’ they chuckled at each other, and followed Arthur and Molly’s lead stopping outside the fences of The Burrow.

‘All right, listen up!’ said Arthur, gesturing for his children to crowd around. ‘The Ministry has established a new entrance in Diagon Alley, so since we can all apparate now, we’ll apparate near Ollivanders and go together, all right? Ginny, you’re with Harry. On three. One, two…’ he disappeared with Molly, and the others followed.

Harry moved his feet sort of spinning and jumping at once, pulling from Ginny, the picture of Diagon Alley and Ollivander’s door clear in his mind, and felt the familiar pull like a hook pulling from his navel, his surroundings blurred, and next thing he knew he was blinking with the light of Diagon Alley, readjusting his hat and glasses, that had moved a little, and turning to Ginny, who always looked a bit green after disapparating.

‘All right?’ he asked her.

‘If by that you mean am I in one piece, yes,’ replied Ginny grimly.

‘Harry, Ginny, let’s go!’ they saw Hermione in the distance, holding hands with Ron and gesturing for them to hurry up with them, George and Percy to join the others, that were a bit farther away.

They strolled past Gringotts bank into a new sub-alley in which Harry had never been before. It was small, and let only to one building, that looked like a small stone temple guarded by three large wizards in purple and golden robes.

Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys weren’t the only ones going to the Ministry. Dumbledore’s Army would be receiving OM First Class too, and everyone brought families or friends as guests, not to mention there were Ministry employees going to work, and journalists invited to the event.

‘Arthur,’ Harry asked, reaching his girlfriend’s Dad. ‘Does this new entrance mean the others no longer exist? Is it because we infiltrated the Ministry last year?’

Mr Weasley smirked as the memory amused him, but shook his head.

‘There have been changes, but not because you infiltrated. The guest entrance remains the same as when I first took you in, but Kingsley thought that having employees enter the Ministry through stepping into toilet seats was rather humiliating. And since Diagon Alley is large and everyone can apparate and Disapparate here as needed, he figured it was a better way of entering, minimising the risk of being spotted by Muggles and thus, abiding by the Statute of Secrecy better. This entrance is mainly for employees, but can be used with Ministerial permission,’ he held up a letter with the Ministry’s emblem on it. ‘Kingsley figured that on days when a high affluence of guests is expected, it’s best to use this entrance, otherwise the Muggles would undoubtedly notice us going in, so there’s a guest entrance here that the Ministry only habilitates on days like today.’

In fact, they had to wait a long queue as the guards passed their wands over everyone, employees being a priority to go in, before allowing each visitor inside. Once into the small temple, there were several dozens of what looked like glass phone cabins, one next to the other, forming long lines. Instead of phones, however, they all had what resembled a card reader, and Harry saw Ministry employees pull out of their pockets ID passes from the Ministry and pass them through the reader, which made purple flames appear out of nowhere and engulf them, and then they were gone.

‘Percy and I will use the employees’ entrance for speed, best not to congest the visitors entrance more,’ said Arthur. ‘Molly, you guys just go to the guard at the lift and we’ll see you in a minute.’

Arthur and Percy marched to the cabins, and Molly, Bill and Fleur guided the others to a massive lift that reminded Harry of hospital lifts. A guard at the door checked they all had an invite letter from the Ministry before allowing them into the large lift, that only had one button, and when the lift next opened, they were in the Atrium, but it looked entirely different from the way it had been when Harry, Ron and Hermione had last been there.

It had been decontaminated from Voldemort, that was the only way to say it. The floor was dark wood again, the walls navy blue with stars on them, and the ceiling, white with golden trimmings and abstract shapes. The Fountain of Magical Brethren had changed, and now the sculpture in the middle showed what seemed like a flame from which flourished several sculptures of different characters, from the waist up and in positions that reminded Harry of the superhero poses he’d seen on Dudley’s Muggle comics. They were golden, and stood back to back, like a united front of battle. As he stopped to examine them, he saw a wizard in robes, pointing his wand in the air, an elf with the chin held high, a centaur, a mermaid, a giant, a goblin, and what could only be a Muggle woman in an elegant dress, arms crossed over her chess in a business-like posture. Harry understood that the reason why they were shown from the waist up was so that nobody was taller than the other, as the previous fountain had shown a wizard and a witch tall in the middle and a goblin, an elf and a centaur looking up to them. But in this one, they stood like a united front of equals, nobody higher than the other, with streams of water falling outwards from the bottom and the top of the sculpture and cascading in front of the faces. Harry also saw they’d changed the name of the fountain, as indicated by a metal plaque on it, and it was now called The Fountain of the Comrades of War.

‘Kingsley’s really drawing a thick line with his predecessors, isn’t he?’ commented Ron, admiring the fountain with him.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said Hermione with gleaming eyes. ‘Wizardkind, humankind, elves, merpeople, centaurs and goblins standing together against one common enemy.’

‘The way it should always be,’ added Ginny.

‘Come on boys, girls, come on,’ Molly ushered them anxiously. ‘We have to get into the auditorium…’

They soon found Arthur and Percy, and the large group advanced together into an adjacent room Harry had never even seen before, but that reminded him instantly of a much more modest, sober version of the Royal Opera House, which he’d only ever seen in pictures, with a stage below. As the ones to be honoured, they all took front seats, enthusiastically meeting other members of the Order and Dumbledore’s Army there. Harry made sure Andromeda and Teddy would sit near with the Weasleys, Hagrid and McGonagall.

‘Grandma’s been bragging about this all week,’ Neville told them with enthusiasm, looking his best ever. ‘Still can’t believe I’m being honoured with you just because I slit a snake’s head off…’

‘Not just because of that, Neville,’ said Ron. ‘You killed a Horcrux, you organised the students’ resistance at Hogwarts, you took care of the First Years, you became the new leader of Dumbledore’s Army, and you’ve always aided us.’

Smitten, Neville blushed and nodded, sitting with them.

Around them, the room was soon full with photographers, journalists —they spotted Rita Skeeter in the distance, and Xenophilius Lovegood, who was proudly looking at his daughter while holding a magical camera— and all sorts of people who hadn’t wanted to miss the event live. As the clock marked eleven o’clock, Kingsley appeared on stage, wearing his regular purple robes and his African hat, and standing in front of the magical lectern that stood at the centre, which had no cables whatsoever.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome,’ said Kingsley with a beaming smile. ‘In the Middle Ages, Merlin the Wizard founded the Order of Merlin, which was the first to establish strict rules against the use of magic on Muggles, believing that wizards and witches should always help and stand with Muggles, not against them. A belief I share. In commemoration of who is undoubtedly the greatest wizard we’ve ever had, the Wizengamot established the Order of Merlin in the fifteenth century, but for centuries it has been given to Ministry favourites and unworthy recipients, which made it lose its value over the years. That has now been stopped, when in the recent months, we have made stricter laws to regulate what warrants or doesn’t warrant an Order of Merlin, and we have stripped unworthy recipients, dead or alive, of it, which makes me hope that today’s worthy recipients will receive it feeling it as the great honour it is, and no longer sharing it with people who don’t reach their ankles.’

‘I hope Kingsley never gets corrupt,’ whispered Ginny. ‘He’s truly wonderful, isn’t he?’

‘Best we’ve had,’ agreed Harry, his thumb nervously drawing patterns on the back of her hand. Kingsley had been back and forth with letters with him for days, even when Harry was away, and Harry had agreed he would say some words, but he was bad at public speaking, got very shy and nervous, and hadn’t been able to write anything, nor had he had the time, so he would have to improvise, something that made him anxious.

‘Today it is my greatest pleasure to be awarding the Order of Merlin, First Class. This summer,’ continued Kingsley, ‘the Wizengamot has agreed with me on giving it a more extensive definition, to ensure it isn’t given as indiscriminately as it traditionally has been. Therefore, it is now given to any wizard, witch, squib or magical creature, for demonstrated acts of outstanding bravery, courage, skill, and distinction, performed over the course of at least two years, that have had a great impact on our country and our magical community.’

‘That’s more like it,’ whispered Ron.

‘With this in mind,’ proceeded Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, and he produced a rolled-up long parchment out of the blue, ‘let’s proceed with our first recipients of the day. The Order of the Phoenix was an organization first founded by Albus Dumbledore in 1970, after Tom Riddle alias Lord Voldemort began his campaign to take over the Ministry of Magic for the first time. Back then, the Order worked with the Ministry to oppose Tom Riddle and his followers, playing a crucial role in the First Wizarding War and being disbanded in 1981, after Riddle’s first fall. Their other members were Auror Alastor Moody, murdered by Tom Riddle last year while executing a mission for the Order; Aberforth Dumbledore, who a few months back provided secret passage to Hogwarts for all of us fighting in the good side; Arabella Figg, squib who served as liaison with the Muggle world and was tasked with the protection of Mr Harry Potter in the Muggle world.’

‘My neighbour,’ Harry murmured, craning his neck to see the old woman looking timid but proud on her seat a few rows back.

‘Frank and Alice Longbottom,’ Kingsley continued, reading from the parchment, and Harry saw Neville set his jaw, ‘brave and courageous Aurors who preferred to be tortured to madness by Dead Eaters rather than betray us; Benky Fenwick…’ Kingsley went on and on, with most of the original Order having been murdered or gone missing years back, until; ‘Fabian and Gideon Prewett, brothers who bravely fought against five Death Eaters to death, Severus Snape, who was murdered by Riddle during the Battle of Hogwarts after serving eighteen years as an invaluable spy; Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwart’s Gatekeeper, and the most loyal and brave of all semi-giants,’ Kingsley smiled at his old friend, and Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna turned, grinning, to see Hagrid all blushed on his seat. ‘Remus Lupin, werewolf and former DADA professor at Hogwarts, who gave his life at the Battle of Hogwarts after twenty years of service,’ a knot began to set in Harry’s throat, and his eyes glued to Kingsley’s parchment. There was very little left, and he knew exactly whose names were left. Kingsley took a deep breath, steadying himself, and continued; ‘Sirius Black, who was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange while on a mission for the Order in 1995, after seventeen years of service interrupted by his mistaken sentence of thirteen years in Azkaban, accused of a crime he never committed; Peter Pettigrew, who served only two years before betraying us and defecting to work as a spy for Riddle, and since committed the deaths of dozens of people, including at least twelve Muggles of whose murder Mr Black was falsely accused, and James and Lily Potter. He will not be honoured, as he is a disgrace, but it was time to set the record straight,’ Kingsley clarified with severity. ‘And finally… James and Lily Potter, who loyally and bravely fought against Riddle and his followers for three years, since the minute they became of age, giving their lives to protect their baby son from Riddle himself.’

There was a profound silence as Kingsley, very serious, rolled back the parchment before he continued to speak. Ginny was squeezing Harry’s hand quite tightly, and he could feel a pickle in his eyes and a knot in his throat.

‘Most of these people have already received their posthumous Order of Merlin privately in their graves,’ revealed Kingsley. ‘However, I would like a proper applause for the surviving members here today, as well as Mr Neville Longbottom for his parents, Mr Edward Lupin for his father, and Mr Harry Potter for his parents and Mr Black. If you could all come up, please…’

There was a murmur of chairs and encouragement that was hidden beneath a strong wave of applause. Harry reached out behind him to take Teddy from Andromeda’s arms, and steadied the little boy against his hip, kissing his temple. He had made sure Kingsley would include Teddy. The little boy had to always know the heroes his parents had been, in Andromeda and Harry’s opinions. Then, Harry followed Neville and the others, greeting Mrs Figg and helping her up, as she now used a cane and held onto his arm. Most were getting quite emotional and holding back tears as they walked to hug Kingsley and take their medal, that came with a deep velvet green ribbon in a small black velvet box, but not really because it made them emotional to get a medal, but rather because they were remembering the friends they had lost, and their worst memories fighting against the dark wizards.

Neville and Harry queued up the last, shaking hands with Kingsley. Neville’s eyes were gleaming, proud and sad for his parents, while Teddy, who was only about to turn four months, had his little arms around Harry’s neck, his hair transforming to match Harry’s, and seemed rather terrified.

‘It’s okay buddy,’ Harry whispered against his forehead. ‘Look, it’s Uncle Kingsley.’

‘Hi mate,’ Kingsley grinned, tickling Teddy, who smiled shyly. ‘Here, this is Daddy’s.’ Kingsley gave him the little box, and Teddy looked distrusting at it.

‘Grab it Teddy. Take it, it’s Daddy’s. We’ll give it to him later,’ said Harry encouragingly, and Teddy grabbed it in his arms, gripping it like a toy.

‘Will you have hands for this?’ Kingsley held the remaining three small boxes, and Harry noted each had their recipients’ initials engraved.

‘Maybe shove them in my pocket,’ said Harry, and Kingsley put them in his large cloak pocket before shaking his hand, then Harry put both hands to hold Teddy, going back to his seat. He passed Teddy back to Andromeda with a kiss, ensuring he wouldn’t drop Remus’ Order, and sat down.

‘Okay?’ Ginny asked tentatively.

‘Yeah, fine,’ Harry dug in his robes and took one of the orders, that turned out to be his mother’s. He caressed the engraved initials with his thumb, wondering what they’d think of this, and put it back in his pocket as Kingsley spoke again.

‘Thank you everyone, what an honour to know you,’ said Kingsley proudly. ‘The Order of the Phoenix was reunited by Dumbledore in 1995, after Riddle’s official return, and again counted with the noble services of Mr Moody, Mr Aberforth Dumbledore, Mrs Figg, Mr Diggle, Mr Doge, Miss Vance, Mr Fletcher,’ Mundungus Fletcher was not receiving honours because he had defected and he was a thief, but he was mentioned for historical reasons, ‘Mr Snape, Mr Lupin, Mr Hagrid, Mr Black and Mr Podmore, plus new comrades, all of whom fought until the last disbandment this summer. The members of this Second Order of the Phoenix were mainly tasked with the protection of Harry Potter and other key individuals such as the Muggle Prime Minister, spionage on the corrupt Ministry of Magic, research and investigation with the purpose of defeating Riddle once and for all, guarding locations of interest, retrieving and protecting sensitive information againt Riddle, and actively fighting and capturing dark wizards and witches. They were as incredibly brave as their predecessors, but also truly skilled witches and wizards, and people of honour and loyalty. We now honour these new members. Headmistress Professor Minerva McGongall, who worked for the Ministry during the First Wizarding War and in the last few years has been an invaluable asset for the Order, ultimately organising the defence for the Battle of Hogwarts; Arthur Weasley and Molly Weasley, previously Prewett, who along with their children William, Charles, George and Fred, and daughter-in-law Fleur, constituted the largest family entirely devoted to the good fight, with Mr Fred Weasley ultimately giving his life at the Battle of Hogwarts,’ it was now Harry’s turn to squeeze Ginny’s hand tight and kiss her shoulder, keeping an eye on Ron too, who Hermione was watching over. ‘Nymphadora Lupin alias Tonks, one of the most courageous Aurors I’ve ever had the pleasure of fighting alongside of, who was murdered with her husband at the Battle of Hogwarts; and Hestia Jones, who helped protect Muggles at risk, amongst other missions. Please join me in applauding them as they come to receive their medals, together with Mrs Andromeda Tonks, who will receive her daughter’s.’

This time Harry took care of Teddy and applauded so hard his hands hurt and became red as most of the Weasleys, blushing and teary-eyed, together with few others, received the biggest public honour of their lives. Most of the room had gotten up on their feet to applaud to both sets of recipients, so Harry stood with Teddy against his hip, applauding with a free hand against his thigh and grinning tearfully as the Weasleys received what they deserved. He saw George, pale as a sheet, picking his brother’s medal as well and holding it against his chest while rubbing his face with one hand, and then Andromeda, tearfully taking Tonks’s.

‘See Grandma?’ Harry pointed out to Teddy. ‘That thing is for Mummy. We’ll go see your Mummy and Daddy later, okay? You’ll see.’ He kissed his temple lovingly and Ginny smiled at them, caressing Teddy’s hair.

Once again, everyone returned to their seats, and Kingsley spoke again.

‘Now,’ he cleared his throat, and another roll of parchment appeared on his hand out of nowhere. A table with a velvet golden tablecloth that was next to him, where the medals had been appearing, suddenly filled with medals again. ‘The most tragic victims of war are always children. But they can also be the bravest warriors, the most determined and dedicated wizards and witches, and some of them became a particular pride to our Wizarding community, and a great inspiration, when in 1995, with the eldest of them aged sixteen and the youngest only twelve, they joined the student organization Dumbledore’s Army at Hogwarts, founded and led by Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley to prepare students for situations of danger. It was a year in which their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, former Ministry employee under Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, was not, reportedly, teaching them a single useful thing. Aware of the dangerous times that were arising, Dumbledore’s Army took it upon themselves to teach each other how to protect themselves and their loved ones, and intensively prepared for duels and other confrontations, in total secret, until Umbridge discovered them after months of clandestine activity at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, the group remained in close contact since, rushing to each other’s aid whenever needed, and actively participating in the rise against Riddle. In this final school year, the remaining members at Hogwarts led this time by Neville Longbottom, Ginevra Weasley and Luna Lovegood, spent the year protecting fellow students from the Death Eaters controlling the school, initiated small coups and attempts to destabilize the Death Eaters’ control of the school, rescued students that were receiving brutal punishments, and over and over put themselves in great danger to protect and help other students. Ultimately, it was them who found a place for the resistance to safely gather under the Death Eaters’ noses at Hogwarts and initiate the Battle of Hogwarts, it was them who called the resistance, and their job was essential to get the good guys inside and win the war. And in spite of the name, they were never aided by a single adult, nor did adults take any part in their foundation and activities.’

With his chest full of pride, Harry grinned at Neville, Ginny and Luna, who sat together by his side, and gave them a nod. The room seemed perplexed, and Harry saw many adults looking like they’d been hit with a Quidditch bat, trying to come to terms with the fact that children had done that. Similarly proud, Kingsley allowed for a moment of silence to settle the news, and then went on.

‘As I name them, I ask them to queue up here in the order in which named, one by one, except for those of you who were already awarded or will receive higher decorations later today,’ said Kingsley. ‘Their names are Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Dean Thomas, Colin Creevey, who unfortunately was killed at the Battle of Hogwarts, Dennis Creevey, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Katie Bell, Lavender Brown, who was tragically murdered at the Battle of Hogwarts, Lee Jordan, Parvati Patil, Padma Patil, Nigel Wolpert, Seamus Finnigan, Cormac McLaggen, Romilda Vane, Anthony Goldstein, Cho Chang, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Maisy Reynolds, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott,’ all of them began to get up and climb on line onstage and in the corridors, and Harry joined Hermione, Ron and Neville applauding on their feet, kissing Ginny on her way up, grinning as she blushed furiously with his kiss. ‘Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones, Luca Caruso, Alice Tolipan…’ Kingsley went on and on for at least another couple dozen of names, so that by the time he ended they could hardly hear the name amongst the applause, and their hands were hot, red and painful.

But there was no risk of their names being forgotten. As Kingsley happily shook hands and delivered boxes with Orders of Merlin to the young wizards and witches, their names appeared by magic, one by one, out of thin air, on the walls of either side of the stage. It was rather sad when Lavender’s parents came to pick up Lavender’s medal, or when Dennis Creevey also picked-up his brother’s, but as those who lived had their medal taken out of the box and pinned to their chests, there were also emotive moments of happiness in which the young recipients seemed overwhelmed with the weight of their own honourable actions as Kingsley placed the medals. Ginny, for example, was the first to receive it and the first to return to her seat, and as Harry kissed her again, she was nearly crying.

‘None of us did it even entertaining the mere idea of ever receiving public recognition,’ said Ginny. ‘But damn, it feels good to have a Ministry that finally cares about the children who even died to fight. People as brave as Colin… at least their parents get something, right? Aren’t they Muggles?’ Harry nodded, rubbing her back soothingly as they sat back down.

‘Yeah, they’ve been allowed to come, look,’ he pointed as Dennis Creevey hugged two adults that greatly resembled him, and the three seemed to share tears together before sitting next to each other, Colin’s medal in its box in his hands. Harry wrapped a tight arm around Ginny and kissed her temple, together watching proudly until the last DA member got back to their seat. To think that of all those kids, all of whom had fought at the Battle of Hogwarts, only two had died, Harry was amazed. He was proud to see the evidence that he’d been able to save most of them with the training he’d given them, and then his friends had continued to provide.

‘Now,’ Ginny turned to Harry as Kingsley prepared for the next bit, ‘remember to enjoy this, okay? One time the Ministry and this community who loved to trash-talk you in the papers will stand to support you, recognize you and reward you.’

‘Right.’

‘But most importantly… remember the entire British Wizarding Community is watching now. Dumbledore always used these chances to remind people of what truly matters, tell them the truth, what we’re fighting for, so they could be ready to stand up and fight. Even when Cedric was killed, he gave us a good speech to help us out… and now these people have lost tons of loved ones and the only symbol left in which they believe in, without Dumbledore, is you. The war is not over for them, perhaps this is the hardest part yet, like it was for us when we had to leave the country to get better.’

‘But no pressure.’ Ginny raised a hand to softly caress his cheek.

‘You thrive under pressure, love.’ Everyone was now in absolute silence for the most expected moment of the day. Kingsley cleared his throat and this time, there were four small golden and red velvet boxes on the table by his side.

‘I want to take this opportunity to thank, in the name of our entire Community, all of you honoured tonight as well as your families, for your sacrifice, your courage, and your determination to stand for what’s right with or without anyone else’s support. You represent the best of our people, you are an inspiration for the future generations, you mark the right path to follow, and I hope that in the days to come, we never forget the pain it cost us to get to these golden days, and we continue to remember and honour your hard work and sacrifice to build together a world much more beautiful than any we ever had, the world all the fallen died dreaming of giving us. Thank you.’

Everyone was watching Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt with rapt attention, and it was clear that he was a man that had earned the respect of his community, and even when he was an interim Minister, appointed due to the situation of emergency, it was easy to imagine everyone would end up voting for him when the elections came, because he was a man of his people, with a wife and daughters, someone unlike all the previous Ministers, someone who didn’t care about money and power, and who wanted to unite his community, console them, and help push them forwards from a place of post-war grief onwards.

Kingsley waved his wand and four small velvet boxes of a golden colour appeared on the small table near him where the other medals had been appearing now and then. He went behind the curtains at the sides of the stage for a moment, presumably to hydrate or talk to another Minister official, and was soon behind the lectern at the centre of the stage again, so that the murmurs of anticipation that had been emerging in the room vanished as quickly as they had started.

‘All the people we have honoured so far were essential to defeat Tom Riddle, alias Lord Voldemort, once and for all, and after discussing things with the most knowledgeable people on the matter, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and Mr Harry Potter, it was clear to me that the main person who figured out exactly the way to defeat Riddle and began to orchestrate his fall decades ago was Albus Dumbledore. To him, we owe more than words could express, as he organised and planned for the Order of the Phoenix, and inspired students to form Dumbledore’s Army in his name. According to Mr Potter however, Dumbledore was already dying and orchestrated his death with Professor Snape to guarantee Riddle would trust Professor Snape unconditionally if he was the one to end his life, of which there was very little time less regardless. And before he was gone, Dumbledore made sure that there would be people left to continue what he started: Professor Snape, for his advanced skills and knowledge and unwavering loyalty, and of course, Mr Potter, for he was the one Riddle had chosen to go after for years, the one whose family Riddle had massacred, and the one who Riddle had unknowingly given the capacity to destroy him once and for all. And above all, because Dumbledore knew we would need someone noble, someone who didn’t care about fame or power at all, someone incorruptible, someone courageous and loyal, someone like Harry, to make sure the mission would carry on successfully no matter what.’

Harry felt eyes on him from all over the place and shifted awkwardly in his seat, shy. Proud of him, Ginny put a hand on the nape of his neck and caressed his hair with her thumb, smiling proudly at him.

‘Due to the enormousness of their role in this victory, I expressed to the Wizengamot my belief that these three wizards should receive the highest of honours that our country provides, even posthumously, in the case of the professors, and it is with great happiness that I announce they have agreed. And since the Order of Merlin, First Class, didn’t seem unique enough for such a unique accomplishment, nor grand enough, or important enough for the greatness of their actions, we have since agreed on creating the Most Noble Order of Dumbledore, inspired by the legends of Merlin the Wizard, King Arthur, and the Gentlemen of the Round Table.’

There was a murmur in the room as everyone excitedly commented on what they had just heard.

‘The Most Noble Order of Dumbledore has been created specifically as a reward for the people that knew how to follow the guidance of the greatest wizard we’ve known since Merlin, and that devoted years of their lives to researching for Riddle’s fall, to the pursue of truth, that showed incredible levels of magical knowledge, skill, courage, loyalty and selflessness, and were willing to sacrifice everything, even their lives, as they set off to complete the most dangerous parts of the plan to defeat Riddle, which included investigating and researching what made him immortal and how to make him mortal again, and being the ones to actually kill him,’ explained Kingsley, his serene, deep voice, carrying neatly through the room. ‘Dumbledore found out that Riddle had divided his soul in seven parts, including the one that still remained with him, and that the other six had been contained in different elements that were unknown, but that if one could figure out what they were and how to destroy them, a task of immeasurable danger that could take years to be accomplished, then Riddle would be as mortal as us. Dumbledore didn’t have time to complete this mission, and he only ever trusted it to one person. Mr Harry Potter. And he has agreed to come here this morning, and tell us the truth. Harry? Whenever you’re ready…’

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: The Most Noble Order of Dumbledore.

Nervous, Harry stood up, and he was applauded in encouragement. Ginny kissed his cheek quickly as he got up and Ron patted his arm for courage as he walked away from their seats, taking a deep breath and walking to the stage. He would’ve rather done this at Hogwarts, because the Great Hall was far less intimidating. Standing at the lectern, Harry looked forwards and focused on Teddy and his friends, clearing his throat. Kingsley went back to a small row of chairs that had appeared on the back of the stage and sat there to listen respectfully.

‘You have lost too much,’ Harry began, ‘and so I know you deserve the truth and I think Professor Dumbledore would have agreed with me. You deserve to know why your loved ones are dead or have otherwise suffered greatly. You deserve to know why you have suffered greatly.

‘Decades ago, there was a young child product of a love potion who had never known love, and never would, and whose biggest desire was to be the most powerful wizard of all time. His name was Tom Riddle. But he hated his name, because it was the same as his Muggle father’s… which is precisely why I’m going to keep using it. We call things by their name, because a very wise wizard told me one time that fear of the name only increases the fear of the thing itself and we will no longer let Tom Riddle put the fear in us with fake, wanton nicknames,’ he saw nods here and there, people agreeing with him, and took another deep breath before continuing. ‘When a prophecy emerged that a baby would be born capable of defeating him, it could have been any of two boys. Myself… and Neville Longbottom,’ Harry glanced at Neville, who stared attentively at him. Harry knew Neville already knew, he’d made sure of this, but he wanted the world to know too. ‘It could’ve been anyone, neither of us had something special you don’t have, but the prophet decided it’d be us, the boys born late in July to people who had thrice defied Riddle, and thus Riddle went for us as babies. But ultimately… he decided on me. He chose me.

‘There is no real logical reason for this, my family isn’t one of grand wizards like Dumbledore or anything like that,’ said Harry. ‘My family is a mixture of muggles and wizards and witches who became known for making hair potions. Nothing more. My parents weren’t Aurors like Neville’s either, just normal, very young, and very brave people. But Riddle decided to mark me as his equal purely because he saw some degree of similarities in our stories that made him feel more connected to me than to Neville, is just that very stupid reason, really. Problem for him was that, when he chose me, when he marked me, he unknowingly connected us in more transcendental ways, ways that neither of us understood for years. He accidentally left a piece of his soul in me, and that did mean it had to be me who defeated him. It’s no use to go into deeper explanations, that’s the plain fact, I was the one who had to go after him because he made me. It wasn’t a matter of skill, and I am not alive because I was a better dueller or a more skilled wizard than any of those who are dead. I was brave and did what I had to do because I had no choice because I knew, from a very young age, that Riddle would stop to nothing to kill me and that if he did, then my parents would be dead for nothing, and I couldn’t let that happen. But I was also incredibly lucky, and I wouldn’t be alive here today if it wasn’t for my luck and above all, for the amazing people who have received decorations today and others who will later, who repeatedly saved my life, who repeatedly stood by me, and who repeatedly helped me year after year to do what needed to be done. And I am not better than any of us. Certainly not better than Colin, Lavender, Fred, Moody, Dumbledore, and so many others. I just got lucky.’

Harry turned to Kingsley, who looked at the boxes of medals and raised his eyebrows, nodding. Harry understood immediately. Looking back at the multitudes listening to him, and went on.

‘The people that stood by me and died… they were all brilliant, kind, brave, selfless… they represented the best of wizardkind, and they were great friends too. Dumbledore gave me the tools to succeed because he knew once Riddle had chosen me I had no choice but to fight and win, and even though I never wanted this position… I was lucky to have people like the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army to have my back, to trust me even when I struggled to trust myself, who believed more than me, who stayed hopeful and strong and who showed me that together… together we could do anything. We always did. It is only tragic that our friends don’t get to see the beauty of the world they died to give us, but we must see it, we must appreciate it, and we must enjoy it every day for those who can’t. And I want to thank you all for the support you’ve given me. For your invaluable help, advice, immeasurable courage, limitless loyalty, your determination and your strength. We wouldn’t be here without you. But there are three people in this room who deserve my deepest gratitude, three who are true heroes, not me, three who would put anyone before themselves any day, three who are now my only heroes left alive, my inspiration, and the people I admire most. And it’s time to give them the reward they never asked for, but that they deserve ten times more than me, because while I had no choice but to do this, they always had a choice… they could always go, they could always leave me and save themselves and their families, but they willingly decided to stay and fight, to risk it all, to have more courage and strength than I ever could, and even when they were terrified… they kept going, because they knew how high the stakes were, they knew the right thing to do, and they did it no matter what.’

Kingsley stood by Harry now and Harry decided it was his time to take over, so he moved aside and nodded towards him. Kingsley occupied his place.

‘Please join me in giving a warm applause to Mr Neville Frank Longbottom, Mr Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Miss Hermione Jean Granger.’

The Weasleys were the loudest, up, cheering, whistling and clapping, but the rest of Dumbledore’s Army and the Order of the Phoenix were giving them a run for their money. Neville, Ron and Hermione got up and walked shyly to the stage, red in the face, to stand behind Kingsley one next to the other. Kingsley returned to the lectern.

‘Mr Longbottom, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, for their many years of service to Dumbledore’s Army and the Order of the Phoenix, for their courage, determination, selflessness and sacrifice, for their skill, for their loyalty, and for their roles in the defeat of Riddle, will be awarded the Most Honourable Order of Dumbledore. First, Mr Longbottom was not just the leader of Dumbledore’s Army in the absence of its previous leaders, but organised Hogwarts’s resistance, provided safe passage and a hiding spot for our forces, and contributed in the destruction of Voldemort’s souls. He will from now on be known as Sir Neville Longbottom, Gentleman of the Most Honourable Order of Dumbledore. Harry,’ Kingsley motioned ahead and Harry opened Neville’s box, taking the shiny golden medal with a crimson ribbon, and walked to Neville, smiling to him as he pinned it to his chest, while Neville received the enthusiastic cheers and applause of his people.

‘Well done Neville,’ said Harry, and Neville smiled nervously, red as a tomato.

‘For seven years, they never hesitated to collaborate with, aid, protect, and work with Mr Potter for the defeat of Riddle, saving his life and the lives of others in more than a few occasions, and ultimately were willing to sacrifice it all to willingly volunteer to accompany Mr Potter for nine months in the search of the several last pieces of Riddle’s soul, finding on their own how to destroy them, and getting the job done. They’re the ones Mr Potter often describes as his brother and sister, his most loyal best friends, and in his words,’ Kingsley was now reading from a parchment he’d produced out of nowhere, ‘the bravest, most selfless people I’ve ever known. For this, they will from now on be known as Dame Hermione Granger, Lady of the Most Honourable Order of Dumbledore, and Sir Ronald Weasley, Gentleman of the Most Honourable Order of Dumbledore.’

With his chest full of more pride than any of the people who were so enthusiastically cheering could comprehend, Harry grinned at Hermione, putting the medal on her chest as she stood trying not to cry.

‘You deserve it,’ said Harry. ‘Show them what it means to be a Mudblood, uh? Better than all of us.’ Hermione grinned, shaking her head, and Harry grinned back before moving on to Ron, who looked like he was in shock. ‘Is not the Quidditch Cup, but…’

‘Are you kidding?’ Ron snorted a laugh. ‘I’m so going to show off next time I see Malfoy,’ he said jokingly, making Harry chuckle.

As the applause died down, Kingsley grinned at Harry before he addressed his people again.

‘Mr Potter refused to get rewarded if everyone who deserved it didn’t,’ Kingsley explained. ‘And now that that’s been done, I thought that Harry would appreciate being known not as The Boy Who Lived, or any of the other fancy, grand titles he’s not so comfortable with. He’s always wanted to be just Harry, and some people know better than others who that person is. And I think the best way to know that man, and to get him to accept grand rewards, is through he right person. Therefore, please, let’s welcome Miss Ginevra Weasley.’

Harry’s jaw opened and he turned so fast that he hurt his neck, seeing Ginny’s red mane amidst a sea of applause, as she came over, beaming bright, pulling a parchment from her pocket that told Harry this had been planned all along behind his back. She winked at him, and extended the parchment on the lectern as Kingsley moved to give her space.

‘Mr Harry Potter,’ said Ginny, her voice loud and clear, and Harry watched her, transfixed, ‘is the eighteen-year-old son of James and Lily, war heroes, and an honorary Weasley. He’s a skilled Quidditch Seeker, a poor chess player, a decent chef, and one of the messiest people I have ever met,’ she introduced him plainly, making Harry, amongst others, chuckle with amusement. He could hear her speaking lovingly of him forever. ‘Harry is selfless to the point of annoyance, he always wants to help, to not have someone do all the work alone, he’s always giving and thinking of others, he’s kind, he’s generous,’ Ginny was partially ignoring her paper, and seemed to only be looking at it out of shyness sometimes, ‘he always has your back, he’s so very stubborn and he’s so, so loving, caring, nurturing and empathetic. And we practically had to drag him here today because Harry does not conceive to receive any sort of prize for what he calls mere acts of human decency,’ they heard the murmur of laughing, and Ginny grinned at Harry, who grinned back, shaking his head in disbelief.

‘But you like it or not,’ Ginny continued, ‘today we, the British Magical Community, represented by Interim Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, reward you, Harry, because even though you always say you had no choice and did everything you’ve done because it was the only choice… we disagree. We believe that it wasn’t Riddle who forced you to fight him… but rather your own selfless, courageous personality, and the fact that you’re the kind of man who will always do the right thing, no matter how hard it is. We as a Community understand we haven’t always all stood united in your favour, that in the past some have believed lies from corrupt governments who wanted to make us think you were mad, we understand that while you’ve never failed us, some have sometimes failed you. Therefore, we want to say sorry, to thank you for your efforts, your determination to succeed and all your sacrifices, to honour you, and to celebrate you and the luck we have that you are our symbol of justice, of resistance, and of righteousness. So today, we, your people, make you Sir Harry James Potter, Gentleman of the Most Honourable Order of Dumbledore… or as you prefer, just Harry. Thank you for a lifetime of hard work and sacrifice.’

Kingsley had been right. Harry couldn’t deny Ginny a thing and when she put it like that, when she took it upon herself to righten the past governments’ wrongs, and not just that but when everyone seemed to stand by her every word by giving an standing ovation, Harry could not be anything but smitten and in all honesty, a bit emotional, as Ginny placed the last medal on his chest, her eyes brimming with tears as she beamed at him.

‘You’re the most incredible person in the world, you know that, right?’ said Harry with a hoarse voice.

‘After you,’ replied Ginny, and pecked his cheek before standing back, leaving Harry to watch everyone support him unconditionally once and for all.

. . . . .

Remus and Tonks rested together as husband and wife beneath a large stone with their names and a brief biography engraved on it, and those could hardly ever be visible enough to read, due to the mountain of flowers that tended to cover the tomb. They had a particularly nice spot under the shadow of a large tree in the corner of the cemetery that the magical community around Shotley in Suffolk had built, together with its own little parish, to bury their own dead away from the muggles, to reduce the chances of muggles seeing weird, magical things.

Harry sat on the grass in front of the grave with Teddy on his lap playing with a rattle. A spell had allowed Harry to temporarily make it available for solid objects to pass through the stone, so that he’d been able to put the Orders of Merlin, First Class, with their legitimate owners, just using his wand and without needing to break a tomb open.

‘You’re too small to understand yet,’ Harry told Teddy with a soft voice, caressing his hair, ‘but your Mummy and Daddy were two truly exceptional people. A brilliant witch and wizard, kind, generous, giving, and so, so honourable, who were murdered while they were trying to defeat the bad guys that were making our world miserable. They did it to create this sunny new world… hoping you would grow up in it, instead of the world of darkness and fear they lived in their whole lives. And they loved you very much, Teddy, and will always be with you.’

With a soft smile, Harry watched as Teddy just played with his rattle and caressed the soft moss beginning to grow around the stone of the grave.

‘You’ll understand one day,’ said Harry with conviction. He had already removed his medal, put it back in its box, and in his underwear drawer in the room he was occupying at The Burrow. ‘But for now… want to go home? Do you want some warm milk and snuggles? Yeah… let’s go home.’

Harry got up, holding his godson against his chest and kissing the top of his head, looking at the tomb one last time, feeling terrible sadness.

‘I’ve got him,’ said Harry, ‘and he will have the best life, I promise. He will always have me, and I’ll make sure he always knows who you are and what you died for. He’ll understand.’

It took Harry half an hour to stroll back to Mrs Tonks’ house and hand Teddy back to his grandmother, who was cleaning after the dinner they had had.

‘Should I put him to bed, Dromeda?’ asked Harry, peeking into the small, cluttered kitchen.

‘Yes Harry, thank you,’ she smiled warmly at him and went on, putting food away in the fridge.

Harry climbed upstairs to Teddy’s colourful bedroom, changed him into his pyjamas, and substituted the rattle for his teddy bear.

‘There you go buddy, time to sleep,’ Harry kissed his forehead and lowered him into his crib, smiling as Teddy’s eyes fixed on him while he nibbled his stuffed animal. ‘Shall we do story time or song? Let’s do song, I’m a bit too tired for tales…’

Harry sang a few bedtime tunes until Teddy fell asleep, and then turned the lights off, wishing him goodnight and sweet dreams before rejoining Andromeda.

‘All done.’

‘Thank you dear. Are you staying the night?’ they had a guest room he could use.

‘No, thank you. I’m accompanying Ginny tomorrow morning to get her Hogwarts stuff, so it’s best I go back. D’you need anything else?’

‘No, we’re okay. Thank you,’ she gave him a warm smile. ‘See you soon.’

‘Very soon. Goodnight!’

By the time Harry returned to Devon, everyone had gone to their bedrooms, if not to sleep. Harry showered and put on his pyjamas, yawning, before walking up to Ron’s room. He had a feeling his friends and Ginny were there, and he wasn’t wrong. Hermione had made one of her fires in a jar and the three sat around it, dressed for bed, and chatting animatedly.

‘Hey you,’ Ginny grinned at him. ‘How did it go with Teddy?’

‘Great, he’s yet to reach the age of questions and arguments,’ said Harry, flopping on a cushion on the floor next to her and rubbing his tired eyes beneath his glasses.

‘Look at you, all we did was go to the Ministry and you already look knackered,’ teased Ron with amusement.

‘It’s just, every time I’m with Teddy… I have a tendency to get sad,’ admitted Harry.

‘Why? He’s a sweetheart,’ asked Ginny.

‘He is. But he’s like me a bit too much, you know, orphaned… and I just keep thinking of the Marauders,’ explained Harry. ‘Which makes me miserable, really. It’s just… it was all so stupid. If only Pettegrew hadn’t betrayed them… my parents wouldn’t have died, Sirius wouldn’t have ended up thirteen years in Azkaban, Remus wouldn’t have lost all his friends… Teddy might still have him. I just think… I can’t imagine losing all of you, being the only one left, and when I finally manage some glimpse of happiness… death. But one day I’ll have to tell Teddy that’s exactly what happened. That our fathers’ lives were ruined just for choosing one friend badly.’

Ginny took his hand in both of hers.

‘At least they’re no longer hiding, afraid, tormented… they rest in peace,’ she pointed out, and Harry nodded. ‘So you’re not pissed off at me, right?’

‘Pissed at you? Why would I?’ Harry frowned, confused.

‘Because we plotted with Kingsley behind your back, all of us,’ Ginny admitted. ‘Since you didn’t want that medal…’

‘No, that’s all good, honestly. You did an amazing thing, thank you, really. I’m just tired.’

‘Well, we should go to bed,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘We have to rise and shine early tomorrow.’

‘Good thinking,’ Ginny pecked Harry’s lips and got up, stretching her arms over her head.

‘Sweet dreams,’ Hermione kissed Ron and also got up, throwing an arm around Ginny as they walked out together.

‘Sleep well mate,’ said Harry as he also got up.

‘You too.’

Arriving to his room, Harry quickly got into bed, putting his glasses down on the bedside table as he heard Hermione in the room below also getting ready for bed. It seemed like he’d only just fallen asleep when he woke up in the total darkness, confused, until he felt a pat on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of bed.

‘It’s me!’ Ginny whisper-shouted. ‘I can’t sleep.’

‘Oh, Ginny,’ Harry reached out for his glasses and could at last see her silhouette. ‘You can’t sleep?’

‘Can I slide in with you?’ she asked shyly.

Harry meditated it for a moment. Mr and Mrs Weasley’s bedroom was just upstairs, and Ron’s above. What were the odds that any of them might make a bee-line for his bedroom in the mornings and get shocked by Ginny’s presence? Not to mention his bed was narrow; there was no way both of them would fit without being too close for any of Ginny’s relatives’ contentment.

‘Let’s go to your room,’ said Harry, getting up.

‘There’s no need…’

‘I read somewhere that it’s easier to sleep if you never change the mattress and the surroundings,’ said Harry, taking her hand in the dark, grabbing a pillow and a blanket with his free hand. ‘Come on, I’ll go with you.’

Harry tucked Ginny in her own bed, kissing her goodnight, with the bedside lamp of her small room still on.

‘Aren’t you going to snuggle with me?’ asked Ginny with a pout.

‘I can’t. If we get caught, your parents might decide I’m better off camping outside.’

‘They wouldn’t.’

‘Just in case. Look, I’ll read you a story, what have you got…’ Harry examined her bookshelf. ‘What about this book of English legends?’

‘Okay,’ Ginny still looked rather sad, so Harry smiled softly, throwing the pillow and blanket he’d taken from his room on the floor by her bed.

‘I’ll sleep on the floor,’ he said.

‘Oh, no, Harry, the floor is uncomfortable, you’re going to wreck your back.’

‘I won’t. I don’t want to leave you,’ said Harry. ‘So I’ll read you to sleep and then I’ll stay, that better?’

Ginny gave him a tender smile and nodded.

‘Best boyfriend ever.’

‘Indeed,’ Harry sat on her bed, and Ginny put his pillow and his blanket against the wall behind Harry’s back to cushion for him and her own pillow on his lap, settling her head there, for his amusement. Harry waited until she looked comfortable, caressing her hair and holding the book on his free hand. ‘Better?’

‘Perfect. Begin.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Harry began to read, caressing her hair and back, and soon, he fell asleep, so that when Mrs Weasley came by to wake Ginny up in the morning, she found them still asleep. Harry with his glasses crooked, snoring with his head thrown back against the wall, his Adam’s apple bobbling slightly, a hand on the mattress holding the book he’d been reading and the other still on Ginny’s hair as she drooled on his lap. Finding it sweet and not at all concerning, Mrs Weasley simply left the room, quietly closing the door and letting them sleep.

In the end it was Hermione who woke them up, an hour later, because they really had to get going. Either because she knew Harry was there, or simply by chance, she didn’t actually walk in and merely knocked hard against the door.

‘Ginny, get up, we need to get going!’

Ginny’s eyes shot open and she looked up at Harry, who was looking sleepily down at her.

‘Coming!’ Ginny shouted, and they waited until they heard Hermione’s steps on the stairs before she spoke again. ‘Sorry, your neck must be killing you.’

‘I’m fine,’ Harry rotated his head and massaged his neck gently. ‘All fine, promise. You?’

‘Slept like a kitten. Thank you,’ she kissed his cheek. ‘Right, let’s get up.’

After a quick breakfast and getting dressed, the four friends Apparated in Diagon Alley, that was buzzing with activity on a sunny summer’s Monday morning, much like it had been the first time Harry went there in his life. The main cobblestone thoroughfare was full of wizards and witches with long robes and pointy hats walking in all directions, plus stalls and peddlers shouting their offers at the top of their lungs.

‘Look! Let’s say hi to Mr Ollivander!’ said Hermione, pointing to one of the first shops after the brick entrance that led to The Leaky Cauldron, and that was most frequently used by people who couldn’t apparate or those who brought children.

The foursome walked to the small wand shop, the bell ringing as they walked in, and they were happy to see everything back to normal, with shelves full of wands. Garrick Ollivander, with white hair long to his shoulders, sat on a stool behind the counter, and looked up at the sound of the bell, smiling tenderly at them.

‘Good morning! I did not expect you this morning,’ said the old wizard.

‘Good morning Mr Ollivander. We wanted to say hi and check how you’re doing,’ said Hermione with a warm smile.

‘I’m very well, Miss Granger, thank you,’ replied Ollivander, smiling joyfully. He looked tired and older than usual, but otherwise well. ‘Any wand trouble I can help with?’

‘Not really,’ replied Harry. ‘How’s the business going? I expect lots of people must’ve rushed to you now you’re back.’

‘Many indeed,’ said Ollivander. ‘Unfortunately many had seen their wands confiscated and been accused of stealing magic, as if one could do such thing. But they’ve been sorted out now, there are plenty of wands for anyone who needs them. And you are… vine and dragon heartstrings, ten and three quarter inches, slightly springy,’ he looked at Hermione, then at Ron, ‘Willow and unicorn hair, fourteen inches, slightly yielding. Yew and dragon heartstrings, twelve inches, pliant,’ Ginny nodded, impressed, and Ollivander’s eyes found Harry’s. ‘Phoenix feather and holly, eleven inches, nice and supple.’

‘You haven’t lost your touch, Sir,’ said Ron with a tone of admiration, and Ollivander chuckled.

‘Well, see you around Mr Ollivander,’ said Harry. ‘Take care.’

‘You too, Mr Potter.’

‘Nice to see him in good spirits, isn’t it?’ commented Ginny as they strolled past a second-hand shop, Gambol & Japes’ joke shop, and approached magical menagerie. ‘I should get Arnold,’ his purple miniature puffskein, ‘some food.’

‘Is it okay if we go to Gringotts first?’ asked Hermione. ‘My parents have kindly given me money, but I’m going to need to change it into magical currency.’

‘Sure, our parents gave us money but we’ll go with you, we shouldn’t separate,’ Ginny agreed, so they walked far ahead, where Diagon Alley parted like a “y”, two alleys marking the sides of the large building of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

‘D’you guys think we’ll be allowed in?’ Ron asked. ‘After last time?’

‘They’ll look bad at us, but they can’t forbid our entrance,’ said Hermione.

To say they looked bad was an understatement. Goblins weren’t known for their warm smiles and kindness, precisely, but they were positively shooting daggers at them as they walked through the marble floor towards the counter.

‘I should go down to my vault,’ said Harry, grabbing his key from his pocket, ‘I’m completely emptied out.’

‘We’ll meet you here then,’ said Ron. ‘I’d rather not go through that roller-coaster, I’ve just had breakfast.’

‘Sure. Ginny, come with me please,’ said Harry, and so they left Hermione and Ron in one counter exchanging a few hundred pounds into Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, but instead of going to another counter, Harry pulled Ginny aside into a corner. ‘I want to pay your school things.’

‘No way Harry, I told you, I am not some spoilt girlfriend who’s going to take advantage—,’

‘I know, but hear me out. You have no money of your own, you have no job, you’re a student, and soon enough I’ll have a well-paid job. You can either borrow money from your parents, who have enough difficulties as it is and would never let me give them money, or you can borrow from your boyfriend’s family, who have made far more money than your boyfriend’s probably going to ever spend in his lifetime. I don’t need it, it’s just grabbing dust down there, it’s completely stupid, and besides, when we get married it’ll be yours anyway, right? What’s mine is yours?’

‘When we marry, uh?’ Ginny raised an eyebrow, smirking, too amused to get irritated.

‘I sure hope that’s what we’re going towards if all goes well,’ said Harry. ‘So please, take it as… an advance money, it’ll be yours legally in a few years, right? So what’s the big deal? I just don’t want your parents to have to worry about paying your stuff, they’ve spent a ton in Fred’s funeral and your Dad wasn’t able to work for months while Voldemort was in power, and he’s the only provider.’

‘All right, all right… but I am borrowing it. I will pay it back,’ Ginny insisted, ‘as soon as I’m employed somewhere.’

‘Fine,’ Harry took the small victory, and went with her to one of the high counters. ‘Good morning,’ Harry gave his key to the goblin, the hair of his arms sticking up from the cold way in which the goblin was looking at him.

The goblin didn’t even say good morning.

‘Very well,’ he said coldly. ‘Accompany me then.’

‘How warm, endearing and polite,’ Ginny muttered sarcastically, and Harry snorted a laugh, walking with her to the cart that would take them on railings down to the deeper vaults.

It was indeed a roller-coaster, and Ginny, who’d never descended so deeply and thus spent so long in it, needed a second to recover once they finally climbed out, following the small goblin. Harry had his key back, so he took her hand and took her to the entrance to his vault.

‘Bear in mind,’ said Harry, ‘what’s mine is yours. If you ever want anything, you don’t even have to tell me how much you need, you ask to come and I’ll wait out here while you take as much as you need.’

‘And I’m telling you I will never do that. It’s your parents’ gift to you.’

Harry opened the vault, rolling eyes, and held the door open, gesturing for Ginny to come in. Ginny instantly lost her capacity for speech, her eyes widening out of their orbits as tall mountains of gold, silver and very little bronze appeared, raising up to the ceiling. They could’ve swam in all those coins.

‘Oh my…’ Ginny gasped, her voice an octave higher. ‘Goodness.’

‘See what I mean? I don’t need all this, I’m never going to spend it in one lifetime, it’s yours too,’ Harry took her leather money bag while she was busy being astonished, grabbed a fistful of gold, and pushed it into the bag, filling it to the brim and then closing it tight, handing it to her. Ginny was holding a galleon, her jaw open and the coin nearly inside her eyes.

‘I’ve never seen one of these before,’ said Ginny as if it was some rare object from an ancient Egyptian tomb.

‘Now you own them,’ said Harry. ‘When you’re a famous Quidditch player, you’ll be the one keeping this vault full, until then…’ he trusted the bag into her hands. ‘Keep it safe. And begin thinking of the house of your dreams because part of this?’ he gestured to the gold around them, ‘is going into our future house.’

‘I thought it was your house.’

‘But what’s mine is yours, so we build it together,’ Harry reminded her, and Ginny smiled small, shaking her head.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Don’t say anything then. Give us a kiss.’ He smiled and Ginny sniggered, kissing him and following him out of the vault.

They found Hermione and Ron sitting on the steps of the bank, waiting by the entrance.

‘We couldn’t stand their eyes on us a minute longer,’ Ron explained. ‘Got all you need?’

‘Let’s go see how Florean’s daughter is doing, I’m buying you all ice-cream to recover from those evil glares,’ said Ginny with enthusiasm, so they followed her half the alley back to Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour.

After poor Florean’s murder, the parlour had been inherited by her young daughter, Daniella. They all remembered her as the young little helper of her Dad’s, only three or four years older than them. She was buzzing around the parlour with cheerfulness, brightly greeting new clients and stopping to check on the regulars, see how they were doing and how they families’ were doing. She had generous curves, long, bushy, curly dark hair, tanned Italian skin, and olive eyes, paired with a freckled nose and the most perfect smile ever. And Harry had never known robes could actually look sexy on someone, hugging her generous bosom in a way that had Harry and Ron stop dead in their tracks at the door.

And then, Ginny stepped hard on Harry’s foot and he snapped out of it with a yelp.

‘Sorry but you weren’t answering,’ said Ginny innocently, while Harry blinked away tears of pain.

‘Suppose I deserved it…’ he grunted.

Hermione yanked Ron’s arm and pulled him to the ice-creams, forcing him to stop staring at the ice-cream lady, who walked back from her clients’ tables and behind the counter, grinning at them.

‘Good morning! Welcome to Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour, I’m Daniella and I’m at your service. What can I serve you today?’ They all made their orders out of the very generous selection and as they went to pay, Daniella stopped them, pointing to a sign by the counter that said “ORDER OF THE PHOENIX & DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY FREE” and holding the morning’s edition of The Daily Prophet in front of their eyes. ‘You don’t pay here, guys.’

Harry took the newspaper from her, where there was an article around a giant picture of the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army together, with Kingsley and Harry smiling at the centre. It had been taken the day before, and it wasn’t styled as an official press photograph, serious and orderly, but rather as a friendly candid, with people being silly, grinning and laughing, happy to be together, to see old friends alive and well, and to be reunited in happier times. It was quite a great picture.

“THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC HONOURS THE HEROES OF WAR” preceded a long article going point by point about the events of the night before, including a picture of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny with Neville and Luna and Kingsley, all with their medals except the Minister that had refused one due to his position.

‘We’re very sorry about your Dad,’ said Harry, giving the newspaper back. ‘He used to help me with my History of Magic homework. Great guy.’

Daniella smiled sadly and nodded.

‘Thanks, Harry. I remember that. Now I just want to keep his legacy alive, he loved to cheer people up in this place… so come any time, get whatever you want.’

‘Awesome!’ Ron commented as they left the parlour, enjoying their large ice-creams. ‘Daniella’s great. I can get used to this.’

‘Don’t get too used, though,’ Hermione hissed.

‘Oh come on, you’re not jealous are you?’ said Ron, although he did enjoy making her a little jealous. It was always him who got jealous, so it was a nice turn of events, but Harry could tell he was walking into a dangerous zone quite obliviously.

‘Jealous?’ Hermione puffed. ‘Please, is not like she was all over you, Ronnie-Poo,’ she teased, using the nickname George and Fred had sometimes mocked him with, but Harry and Ginny knew she was a little jealous, at the very least. ‘I’m just saying, Daniella is trying to keep her Dad’s business up, that family undoubtedly needs the money they can get, so it’s not right for us to just take advantage and come all the time for ice-cream.’

‘I wasn’t going to take advantage,’ said Ron with a shrug. ‘I have some sense of shame.’

They had their ice-creams while walking around the interesting stalls with curiosity and staring at shop windows with avid interest, and then they divided between Eeylops Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie to fill up the cloth bags Mrs Weasley had given them with provisions for their owls, in the boys’ case, and for Crookshanks the cat and Arnold the puffskein, in the girls’ case. They reunited back on the cobblestone path and together strolled to Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions , because Hermione’s old Hogwarts uniform was a big too small on her now, having already begun to be in its last days on Hermione’s sixth year, and she needed some new items, and slightly bigger shoes to go with it. And since Harry was so insistent that Ginny would use his money as theirs, Ginny figured that now she was a captain, she might as well celebrate by getting her first first-hand Quiddith robes.

‘Why don’t Ron and I get your Quidditch things in the meantime?’ Harry offered, knowing Madame Malkin would take a while to fit the girls, taking their measures and all.

‘All right, it’s not much though. I just need some new protections and broom polish,’ said Ginny. ‘My broom’s gotten some splinters…’

‘See you soon.’

Harry and Ron left the ladies and walked together just a few shops away, to Quidditch Quality Supplies . Harry had a good surprise in store for Ginny’s birthday.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: A promise.

‘Ginny’s birthday’s coming up,’ Harry reminded Ron as they walked together into Quidditch Quality Supplies, pushing their way between teenagers that were drooling at majestic brooms and interesting supplies. ‘Big seventeen. So if we got watches, what do girls get?’

‘Hermione got a new watch as well from my parents, inherited from one of my aunts I think, she always wears it,’ replied Ron. ‘So I suppose same as us. Ginny will probably inherit a nice one my Mum has that Dad got her once. She uses another anyway… why do people end up collecting watches?’ he added quite distracted, his eyes fixed on the newest broom that had come out. ‘Woah, look at that beauty…’

Harry snorted a laugh, turning to look at it. It was truly a nice broom.

‘So what are you getting Ginny?’ asked Harry, nudging him. ‘She’s your little sister, you surely have something planned.’

‘Harry, I am broke like, for real this time,’ Ron puffed, looking grey. ‘Since I’m about to work, I didn’t accept my parents giving me money. My last savings just went on Pig’s food and Hermione’s last birthday, and her nexth is just next month, I’ll have to resort to try and make something…’

‘You could’ve told me.’

‘What, so you can give me money?’ Ron rolled eyes. ‘Come on Harry, you know I’m my family we only spend the money we earned with our hard sweat.’

‘I could just lend it,’ said Harry, examining some protective gloves trying to decide Ginny’s right size. ‘I’m constantly arguing about it with Ginny. Why is it so hard for you to accept help from a good friend? I mean I’m her boyfriend, it should be okay for me to spoil her a little bit.’

‘On special occasions, yes,’ said Ron. ‘But mate, generally, don’t insist on helping someone who hasn’t asked for it, because where you might see a problem maybe we don’t, and if you do, then it makes us feel like we’re not good enough for your highness.’

‘I don’t want her to feel like that, ever. She’s more than I deserve.’

‘Then wait for her to ask for help,’ advised Ron. ‘Same with me. I know Ginny will understand if I just give her a bouquet of flowers, whereas if I got her something expensive, she’d worry I’ve gone into gambling, it’s not a problem not to be able to afford a fancy birthday gift when there are many things that matter way more. The problem would be… me missing her birthday.’

‘Right,’ Harry nodded, listening. It wasn’t frequently that Ron spilled out some reasonable wisdom.

‘And Hermione? Same. If I don’t write to her all of September, forget her birthday, and don’t visit her, she will kill me. But if I do write, remember to say happy birthday, and visit her once or twice… then she won’t care I can’t buy her a beautiful new dress for her birthday, she’ll be perfectly happy with me taking her on a date or something romantic. Same with Ginny and you. It doesn’t matter if she’s turning seventeen or thirty, all Ginny wants for her birthday is what she didn’t have before, you, and as much family in one piece as possible.’

Harry nodded thoughtfully, watching his friend. He finally selected some gloves and put them in the small, Quaffle-shaped shopping basket.

‘What if I want to give her a big surprise?’ asked Harry. ‘D’you think she’ll kill me?’

‘How big?’

Harry pointed to the fancy new broom everyone was crowding around. It was the Victory, the newest, fastest broom ever made in Britain, with improved brakes system and newer cushioning spells so that riding it felt like sitting on a comfortable seat and didn’t damage your groin area at all. It was a new series of Victories in honour of Voldemort’s death, and it was supposed to be grand. The National Teams had already asked for them for the entire teams. Ron whistled in admiration.

‘Ginny’s about to go into her final year, she doesn’t want to return another year and she’s going to be a captain, and she’s using an old Cleansweep,’ said Harry with a depressed tone. ‘I am faster than her just by running, Ron, and if Slytherin gets the Victory we stand no chance for the Quidditch Cup this year. And then, if she goes to the Holyhead Harpies’ try-outs with that rubbish, they’ll laugh on her face. It’s not like I want to give her a broom… I want to give her a grand victory after so much loss, I want to gift her the experience of lifting up the cup and kiss her just like I did the first time we ever kissed, it was always around Quidditch, our entire relationship was built around…’ he gestured around. ‘And I want to gift her the chance to actually become a professional Quidditch player because with all the talent she has… she could actually make it, if she had a proper broom.’

‘Well I think if you explain it to her like you just did, you can buy her the whole shop,’ said Ron.

‘Really?’

‘Of course. Come on Harry, let’s get my sister that broom… she deserves it,’ said Ron. ‘And you’re right. This is about so much more than a broom, it’ll be romantic. And if all else fails… you stick your Firebolt in her trunk because Slytherin is not taking our Cup.’

‘Deal.’

Harry got Ginny a bunch of new protections, equipment for the care of her broom, and while Ron held the bags, he quickly Apparated and Disapparated to leave the long package of the Victory broom at 12 Grimmauld Place.

Once the girls were done, the group joined forces to buy potion supplies, quills, bottles of ink, heavy textbooks for Hermione and very few for Ginny, only for the subjects Harry had never taken as she could use the rest from him, and once they were done with the school lists, Harry invited them to large amounts of candy and they dragged themselves with the heavy bags to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes , standing in awe as they saw the shop open and back to its old self.

The shop was completely packed, and since people tended to get petrified whenever they recognized them instead of moving away, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were forced to walk to the back, climbing the stairs to George’s flat to leave their bags there and at least be able to squeeze more easily between everyone.

‘I got a key so I could come and help out sometimes during the summer,’ explained Ron, letting them into the small apartment. ‘George’s been very secretive, but he’s definitely been up to something… anyway, we can leave the books here and everything…’

They returned downstairs and found George busy behind the till.

‘Hi there!’ George grinned at them, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes, that looked tired and had bags underneath. ‘How’s the school shopping?’

‘All done. I hope you don’t mind George, but we left the stuff upstairs,’ said Ginny. ‘This is too cramped to move around with it…’

‘Oh yeah, that’s good. Come, I’ll show you our new line, it’s my proudest achievement,’ George walked them between the multitude to a new, colourful set of shelves around which most of the multitude was crowding. On top of the shelves George had written, in glittery, big letters, “FRED’S FANTASTIC FAVOURITES”. ‘All the things Freddie liked most, improved, of course, and with a half-prize discount for Hogwarts students. Time he brings some more disaster to that school, isn’t it?’

Ginny looked at her big brother with suddenly gleamy eyes.

‘Oh, George… this is perfect.’

‘Grab anything you like, it’s free for family.’

‘It didn’t use to be!’ Ron realised.

‘Time things change, isn’t it little bro?’ commented George, looking oddly serious in spite of his smile. ‘Family’s above everything, it should always be the case. Anyway, Harry, Hermione, you’re family too so go ahead. I’ll be in the till if you need me.’

By the time they left the shop, their pockets and bags were so full they could hardly walk normally, feeling so heavy. But it wasn’t just physical heaviness, they weren’t feeling as cheerful as the shop had usually made them. They were rather quiet as they walked into a crowded pub, set their many backs under a corner booth table, and sat around it for lunch, with Harry inviting them “as a summer farewell gift”.

‘I’m happy George’s back to some semblance of himself, and the shop’s open and bubbly again,’ commented Hermione after a gulp of Butterbeer with ginger. ‘But he looks so broken still…’

‘Let’s face it, George is never going to make a full recovery. Some things you don’t recover from, not quite, like the scars the Ministry’s brains left on me, they haven’t changed a bit in two years,’ Ron pointed out. ‘That’s the way it is with some things. But so long as he’s up and walking, I’m happy.’

‘Maybe Angelina will help him out,’ said Ginny raising a knowing eyebrow.

‘What d’you mean?’ asked her brother.

‘They fancy each other, obviously,’ said Ginny. ‘Wouldn’t be surprised if they end up dating. Angelina and Fred never got serious past the Yule Ball, so it’s not like George would be walking in forbidden territory.’

‘What? That’s not true… Angelina doesn’t fancy George, come on,’ said Ron, oblivious. ‘They’re best friends, like Harry and Hermione.’

‘Oh no they aren’t,’ Hermione chuckled. ‘Ron come on, surely you’re not that oblivious…’

‘You too?’

‘I’ve got to say,’ intervened Harry. ‘They did look quite cosy dancing at the birthday party. Besides, Angelina’s a great woman, she’d be a cool addition to the family.’

‘Exactly. No matter how much I’ve warmed up to Fleur, I don’t want another of those in my family,’ said Ginny.

‘So you all saw it except me?’ Ron looked surprised. ‘Gee I really am oblivious… well good for them then…’

‘Don’t worry, Ron, you’ve many talents, it’s just that perception is not one of them,’ Hermione smiled, caressing his cheek as she kissed him. ‘I’ll get us more Butterbeers…’

August gave way to one sunny, warm day after another, and hardly any rain whatsoever, as odd as it was for London, and each day was enjoyed peacefully and calmly at The Burrow. While Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Percy and George went to work almost every day of the week, Charlie was back in Romania, Mrs Weasley tended to the house, Hermione returned to her parents and sister in London, Harry and Ron began physical training for their Auror careers, running up and down the hills every morning, amongst other exercises, and Ginny mostly played Quidditch with whoever was available, or sat down for hours designing Quidditch strategies and listing names of people who might make for a good next Gryffindor team. For Harry, there were actually many matters to attend, such as the beginning of the design for his future house that took him to Diagon Alley to meet architects now and then, sometimes with Ginny, or visits to Teddy, and going over to Grimmauld Place to continue remodelling it, sometimes with his friends.

Some days, they even got to go on dates. Ron would disappear for a whole day to visit Hermione and come back red in the face, and Ginny and Harry, would occasionally disappear for a day as well, always with warning, as to not stress Mrs Weasley.

Nearing Ginny’s birthday, Harry and the others began to plan her birthday celebrations behind her back, as Hermione would once again visit them for another birthday. Because it was only a few weeks before she’d go off to Hogwarts, Ginny didn’t want a big party, just her family together at The Burrow. Yet on the night before, knowing the moments alone with Ginny would be lesser and lesser until she left for Hogwarts, Harry had prepared a date night with Ginny.

‘We’ll stay the night at Grimmauld Place,’ Harry told Mrs Weasley the afternoon before Ginny’s birthday, as he knotted his tie in the kitchen. ‘But I’ll make sure to bring her back safely in the morning. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to apparate after only a few drinks, and I had Percy take the house off the Floo Network,’ Percy now worked at the Department of Magical Transportation, having changed paths after the war.

‘Did you?’ Mrs Weasley asked with curiosity.

‘Well the house’s safety is already compromised by having revealed it to Death Eaters, so I figured that would make it a little safer. And since the house has plenty of rooms, there’s no problem with sleepovers. Kreacher will prepare something,’ Harry refused to look at Mrs Weasley in the eyes, that were so much like Ginny’s, afraid that she’ll figure out that one, Ginny’s bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place had remained unused, at least by her, since 1996, and two, Kreacher had been helping out at Hogwarts quite frequently all summer, starting to enjoy the company of other house-elves, and Harry had made sure Kreacher would be there that night.

‘All right,’ said Mrs Weasley while Harry pretended to tighten his tie and close his vest. ‘Well, you just be responsible, right Harry? Make sure to be good and take care of her, properly.’

‘Sure thing, always,’ said Harry, daring to look into her eyes, and he was sure Mrs Weasley knew that if her daughter was still a virgin, she wouldn’t wake up the next day one.

Fortunately the moment was cut short as Ginny entered the kitchen.

‘I’m ready,’ she announced, and Harry turned around, grinning at her. She looked stunning in a summer dress. ‘Hey you, looking handsome.’

‘Next to you I look like crap,’ said Harry, kissing her cheek. ‘Beautiful.’

Hermione and Ron watched them from the kitchen table, where they were playing wizard chess, half of Hermione’s pieces destroyed on a pile of bits next to the board. She had just arrived a couple hours before, preferring that rather than having to be up early the next day to be there.

‘You guys have fun,’ said Ron. ‘And remember Ginny, after midnight, you can do magic!’

‘Looking forward to that,’ Ginny grinned excitedly.

‘Be good,’ Mrs Weasley came to hug them both. ‘We’ll see you for breakfast, right? Don’t make me worry.’

‘Pinky promise, Mum,’ said Ginny, holding onto Harry’s arm. ‘Right, let’s go.’

‘Oh, Ginny,’ Hermione caught them at the house’s door. ‘Don’t forget,’ she added looking at Ginny with a knowing expression, and realization flashed in Ginny’s face. Harry looked curious as Hermione seemed to be casually taking Ginny’s hand while leaning to kiss her cheek, but he was quite sure that Ginny had shoved something in a pocket of her dress and that Hermione’s lips had actually muttered something.

‘Thanks Hermione.’

‘Have fun,’ Hermione winked at them and went back inside.

‘What was that about?’ Harry asked. ‘What did she give you?’

‘A kiss on the cheek,’ Ginny smirked. ‘Come on, let’s not be late.’

They Apparated together under Harry’s Invisibility Cloak and right onto 12 Grimmauld Place’s front square, which they crossed under the cloak, reaching the house. They took it off only once they were inside.

Kreacher had removed Walburga Black’s screaming portrait and had it in his room, which Harry had given him, so that the path into the house was clear. Everything had been repainted for more neutral colours, a range of pastels and whites, and the flooring of the house had been changed so that it was mostly clear, beautiful wood, soft beige carpets in the living areas and bedrooms, and stone for the bathrooms and kitchen, which made the house much less gloomy and much nicer and beautiful, taking the light more across the rooms.

‘With the way this house is looking, you could always stay,’ Ginny commented as they walked downstairs to the kitchen.

‘You know I hate it here, a bit less now that it’s pretty, but still,’ said Harry, his hand in hers. ‘Aside from not too safe, I hate that long entry corridor, I hate how many stairs it has, how many floors and rooms, I’m alone in it most of the time and let me tell you, it’s creepy when it’s so big. I hate the memories that don’t go away even if you change the looks of the house, I hate the fact that there’s hardly any possibility for windows with the building being terraced, and I hate the lack of a garden. I miss having a garden, I truly do. And then, the Muggles.’

Ginny chuckled, climbing on the kitchen counter as Harry rolled over his shirt sleeves and put an apron on before beginning to watch his hands under her intense gaze.

‘What’s with the Muggles? You like them.’

‘Look how we have to walk in,’ Harry smiled at her. ‘Under the cloak, turning left and right to ensure nobody sees the house appearing out of nowhere and disappearing again.’

‘All right, so this house you’re building, your ideal house—,’

‘Our ideal house.’

‘Our ideal house,’ Ginny corrected. ‘How do you imagine it?’

‘Near a magical population, I grew up with Muggles, I want to be able to stroll down the street and see magic left and right, like in Diagon Alley. I want a huge garden, the house in the middle, no neighbours. Private Drive is rows of terraced houses, there’s no privacy whatsoever in spite of the name,’ Ginny watched with enjoyment as Harry began to cook like an expert. He was clean-shaven this afternoon, his hair the shortest it had been so far, purely because it had been a really hot August. Even Ginny had trimmed her long hair to have it a bit less long, and Hermione continued not to let hers grow long again. ‘I want a vegetable garden, like your parents have, just enough bedrooms for us to actually use like… one for us, one for Teddy, one for Kreacher to put all his Black family stuff, and two or three more for guests, so your entire family can come over any time and so Ron and Hermione can live with us until they save enough for a place of their own, if they want. I want a kitchen full of natural light, not like this underground one, one like yours, where the family can reunite along a massive table and be together after a long day. I’ll have an office, in case being an Auror gives me the need for one, maybe a training room, perhaps… and we’ll have a massive field for you to practice Quidditch as well, and an office for you too, for when you become a journalist.’

‘Sounds like you spend a lot of time thinking of the kind of life we’ll have,’ Ginny hugged him from behind as he chopped onions and garlic very finely.

‘Course I do, it’s the first time in my life I get to not just think of tomorrow, but be excited about it.’

‘What else do you imagine for us?’

‘I imagine…’ Harry meditated for a moment whether to say it or not, but with the feeling of her chin on his shoulder, he went on. ‘Us, married. Teddy growing up between his grandmother and us, me telling him all about his Mum and Dad that I know, about the Marauders, and our parents’ friendships… and I imagine us having children of our own that Teddy loves like little siblings.’

‘Children, uh? I hope not seven,’ said Ginny, caressing his belly as she hugged him. Harry sniggered.

‘No, not seven. But as many as you’d want to give me, you know, since you can’t play pregnant it’s really up to you. If you give me two, I’ll love two. If you give me four, I’ll love four.’

‘I kind of feel like we already have one, kind of one, you know…’

‘Teddy.’

‘Yes.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded. ‘Sometimes when we’re all together, I also feel like he’s ours, somehow.’

‘He’s a very sweet boy. I’ll miss seeing him grow day by day, he’s going to be gigantic when I come back.’

‘He’s very fond of you,’ said Harry sincerely. Teddy did love to play with Ginny.

‘And I love him. Maybe not like my own son, not yet… but one day, probably,’ confessed Ginny. ‘You know how you’re an honorary Weasley… well he’s an honorary Potter, he’ll always be part of whatever family you and I build.’

‘So… you want one, too?’

‘Of course. Marriage, children… nice to have something a little more conventional than how our lives have been,’ Ginny smiled fondly at him, and walked away to grab two Butterbeers from the fridge, that kept things cold by magic. She opened them and passed Harry one, so he stopped cooking and took his, clinking the small bottles. ‘To us and our brilliant future.’

‘Well said,’ Harry drank and put the bottle on the counter, continuing to cook. ‘I think your mother knows we’re having sex tonight. I don’t believe I can successfully lie to her.’

Ginny chuckled.

‘Oh so we’re having sex?’ she feigned innocence. ‘I thought we were just having dinner.’

‘We are. First, the best fish and chips you’ve ever had in your life with a side of Mediterranean salad. Second, a bowl of amazing tortellini. And third… dessert.’

As he said so, Harry stopped cooking and smiled sensually at Ginny, bending his head ever so slightly to kiss her, her lips opening in a smile against his lips while her hand squeezed his arse.

‘Looking forward to that, Mr Potter…’

‘It’s Sir now.’

‘Oh is it…?’ they laughed into a kiss, and their bodies pressed together, snogging in the kitchen.

When the duo finally sat down for a romantic dinner, with candles, roses, chocolates and everything else, Harry had a surprise up his sleeve for her. Having enjoyed the food, Harry smiled sweetly and took her hand over the desk.

‘So… I know we’ve only been together for four months in total, really,’ said Harry. ‘But we did love each other for a whole year, didn’t we?’

‘I did,’ replied Ginny with half a smile.

‘So did I. And uh… we’re very serious, right? I mean I know last year when I was going to leave you kind of thought I’d meet someone else out there, but you know that now that you’re leaving… I won’t be fooling around with anybody. I’ll still consider myself your boyfriend, I might even have an occasional glance at Daniella Fortescue, but that’s it,’ he joked, and Ginny snorted a laugh. ‘I expect you to also consider yourself my girlfriend and reject anyone else’s advances.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Ginny. ‘You know I’m serious about this, I wouldn’t do anything to mess it up.’

‘That’s what I was hoping to hear. Because I mean it, Ginny, I do want to marry you one day, I just… I suppose we’re still too young and inexperienced. Your parents will have enough of a fit when you move in with me.’

‘As if we don’t already live together, but yes. I’m just as committed,’ Ginny reassured him. ‘I wasn’t joking before.’

‘Great, because…’ Harry dug in his chest pocket and pulled out a small, sterling silver ring with the Celtic’s Trinity Love for family in the middle. He smiled warmly at her, showing it to her. ‘Muggles do this thing called a promise ring, you can use any ring for that, I got this one in Ireland because well, the Celts always knew better, and we’re wizards after all. Apparently it’s supposed to symbolise pre engagement commitment, so I thought, until I can put a diamond on that beautiful hand of yours… how would you feel about just a promise?’

Ginny grinned, endeared by the gesture.

‘What kind of promise?’

Harry give it a moment of thought before speaking.

‘A promise to love each other even when we disagree with each other, argue, or are apart. To stay loyal and faithful to each other, to be open and sincere with each other even if it hurts, to keep each other’s best interest at heart, and be there for each other, always, to the best of our abilities, having each other’s backs and taking care of one another. And to trust each other no matter what, so that we’re not horribly jealous all the time, to communicate, to fight for each other, and to always, at least try to be the best version of ourselves towards the other.’

‘And to not leave without saying see you later and meant it. Every time,’ added Ginny with a prickle in her eyes, and Harry nodded.

‘Always.’

‘Yes,’ Ginny smiled tearfully and nodded, raising her left middle finger for him to slide the ring there. ‘Now every time I give someone the finger, they’ll also know I’m taken,’ Harry laughed at that, and she joined him, rubbing her eyes and leaning across the table to kiss him. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

‘Now we just have to get you one to remember me by when I go to Hogwarts.’

‘One step ahead of you,’ Harry pulled a plain silver band from his pocket. ‘I’ve got a rather simple taste. Want to do the honours?’

‘My pleasure,’ Ginny slid it on Harry’s finger, him picking the same finger as she had, and they kissed again, happily in love. ‘We’re basically kinda married now.’

‘Kinda.’

Soon enough, Harry and Ginny found themselves butt naked on his bed, in Sirius’s old bedroom, that looked slightly different from how it had looked when Sirius had inhabited it. Harry had left the Gryffindor colours and objects, partly because they were so hard to take off, but everything was lots more organised and tiny, Sirius’s more personal objects had been neatly saved in a beautiful wooden box on a shelf, another containing letters from Sirius’s friends, and Harry’s things had begun to accumulate here and there. He sometimes used some of Sirius’s clothes, the little that Mundungus hadn’t stolen, but he mostly left them untouched on a side of the closet. He was working on recovering everything Mundungus had stolen from them, but he reckoned it would take a while.

Ginny felt her first orgasm of the night like combusting into flames of pleasure, but right as she felt the damp head of Harry’s erection against her nether lips, she stopped him with a hand against his sweaty chest covered with fine dark hair.

‘Wait, the pocket in my dress.’

‘I knew she’d given you something.’

‘Couldn’t speak within Mum’s earshot. Grab it, and put it all over your penis.’

‘What is this? Lube?’ Harry held what looked like a round tub. The label said Wizard’s Little Helper.

‘It’s a special lube, yes, makes you sterile for a couple hours, just make sure to get it on your testicles as well,’ said Ginny from the bed, spread out so sexy and beautiful that Harry was having a hard time controlling his heart rhythm as he climbed back on the bed, opening the tub and beginning to put the purple cream inside over his length.

‘Why did Hermione have this? Wait, do I want to know?’

‘I asked her if she could find us something a bit better, since you gave me money… the potions are too much of a nuisance to remember, and the condoms are not environmentally friendly and they make things feel different, so… that’s the best there is, Hermione said. Safest thing, just expensive.’

‘I’ll happily spend all my savings in safety first,’ Harry smirked, leaning to bite and kiss her neck, one hand on her erect nipples and the other pressing his leaking tip against her drenched entrance. They were both so wet that he practically fell in, reducing Ginny to a quivering mess of moans while his thumb found her clit.

After a night of passion, the young couple decided to share a bath, Ginny’s back against Harry’s chest as they kissed lazily over her shoulder, Harry’s arms around her with her hands over his. Ginny smiled at Harry and sat up, turning to face him.

‘Come, let me wash your hair. I bet nobody’s ever done that since you were a baby.’

Amused, Harry turned around and leaned back a little, almost purring as her shampooed fingers tenderly massaged his scalp. Enjoying the experience, Harry decided to return it, washing her long copper hair, and after they rinsed, he went back to holding her against his chest, and they settled down, relaxing against each other, surrounded by flickering candles.

Harry checked his watch and grinned, kissing Ginny’s forehead and reaching for her wand, next to his on the small table near the bathtub. He passed the stick to her, closing her fingers around her, which made her open the eyes she’d closed.

‘It’s time, love. Happy birthday,’ he said. Excited, Ginny sat up, thinking of what would be her first spell as an adult. She murmured something while waving a flourish with her wand, and a bouquet of flowers appeared out of the blue. ‘Beautifully done!’

‘For you,’ Ginny beamed at him, passing him the flowers.

‘Aw, thank you. Can you believe no one’s ever given me flowers? I’m The Boy Who Lived and I don’t get a miserable petal,’ Harry joked, taking the bouquet. ‘They smell wonderfully. Beautiful.’

Smitten, Ginny leaned to kiss him.

‘So,’ Harry contemplated her, ‘what are you going to do with all these years of wisdom you’re accumulating?’

‘I am going to,’ Ginny took the flowers again, putting them aside, ‘make love to my boyfriend in the tub, and then we’re going to go to bed.’

‘I hear being a responsible adult who has her priorities in order.’

‘Exactly,’ Ginny giggled, and climbed on his lap, her lips meeting his as the hot, foamy water around them danced with their movement.

Later, they both snuggled up in bed, clean, smelling nice, naked and dry. Harry was spooning Ginny, and they were both enjoying the rare feeling of snuggling together in bed, naked.

‘Harry?’

‘Hmm?’ Harry’s glasses were already off, his hand lazily hanging from her hip under the sheets and his face against her back, his other arm over Ginny’s pillow.

‘You take care of Ron for me, will you? When I leave.’

‘Of course baby. We’ll take care of each other, Aurors have each other’s backs, always.’

‘That too, you watch out for each other… but I meant… because he’s struggling too, and he’ll miss Hermione loads. And you’ve got experience being without me, but he doesn’t without her.’

‘I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everyone.’

‘I’ll take care of Hermione.’

‘I’ll appreciate it. How is she doing, by the way?’ asked Harry. ‘Since you ladies tell each other everything. Looks more rested to me, like that therapy thing of hers is working.’

‘It does work. She’s gotten Ron to go as well, sometimes,’ commented Ginny. ‘She’s a little better… I think you should go too.’

‘But I feel fine. Since our trip, I’ve felt reasonably well, aren’t you?’

‘Grief comes and goes in waves. Just because we feel better now…’

‘All right. Got it… maybe I’ll go. But I’m a bit too busy these days,’ he kissed her freckled back, nuzzling against it. ‘Merlin, your skin has to be the nicest, softest of all skins.’

Harry groaned in complaint when Ginny rolled over, sniggering, to face him, caressing his face and pecking his nose, entangling her legs with his and throwing her arm over him.

‘I want to see you,’ said Ginny. ‘Engrave this sight in my memory.’ The corners of Harry’s lips twitched and he smiled at her, opening his eyes.

‘You’re the most beautiful blur in the world.’

She laughed and held him closer to her, nuzzling against his face until she fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Ginny’s seventeenth birthday party was perfect, to say the least. They had a quiet dinner at home, George took care of the fireworks as per usual, and they enjoyed the night as a family, watching Ginny enthusiastically rip wrapping paper and enjoy her presents, do magic left and right with great enjoyment, eat cake and laugh with her people. It was almost like going back to the old happy times.

‘There’s one last present,’ said Harry. ‘From Ron, Hermione and I.’

‘What?’ Hermione and Ron looked curious. Neither of them had been able to afford much, Ron had given Ginny flowers and Hermione, a photo album with their summer memories.

‘Just one second.’

Harry rushed from the garden to his bedroom. He’d managed to sneak the Victory broom under his bed while Ginny played Quidditch the other day, so he took the long box and came down with it. Knowing what it had to be, Ginny looked astonished in advance.

‘We figured,’ said Harry, ‘that if you’re going to be the next Gryffindor Captain to lift the Quidditch Cup and the first Weasley to become a professional Quidditch player, then you’re going to need something as skilled, advanced, capable and great as you are. And the Cleansweep is unfortunately not going to do. And besides, Ron and I need to feel like we’re still giving something to our old team. Open it.’

He handed her the box and grinning, watched as she yanked the lid open only to gasp-shout and cover her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide.

‘It’s a Victory! A Victory! Oh my— thank you!’ Ginny jumped to hug and kiss Harry and then hugged Ron and Hermione, who were stunned. They had no idea Harry was going to say it was from the three. Hermione didn’t even know there was a new broom in the house, Ron hadn’t told her. ‘This is awesome! Look at this beauty! Not a single splinter! That Cup is ours! You guys are scary good at keeping secrets…’ she laughed, showing off the broom to her parents with enthusiasm.

‘Damn right we are,’ murmured Hermione.

When the time came to go to bed, they left Ginny first in the first floor, and climbed up to the second. Before Hermione got into her room, she looked at Harry and Ron.

‘Now seriously… I did not completely forget we were doing that, did I? You never told me.’

‘I didn’t know either,’ said Ron. ‘I thought it was Harry’s gift.’

‘It was,’ said Harry. ‘But then I thought… I wouldn’t be with her if it wasn’t for Hermione giving advice to one and another for years, and Ron convinced me getting the broom was a good idea, so… I don’t deserve to take all the merit. You’re her brother and sister, after all, and I know you were feeling bad you couldn’t afford to give her something bigger for her big seventeen, so… I figured I could help everyone out. And besides, that way us three will always be with her in her games, even when we can’t really.’

‘Well, that was a nice gesture,’ Hermione smiled. ‘Thank you. Goodnight boys.’

‘Goodnight,’ Ron kissed her and accompanied Harry upstairs. ‘She’s right. Thanks mate.’

‘Anytime.’

. . . . .

Hermione’s family had a beautiful house in Heathgate Street, Hamstead Garden in London, and although Ron had seen it a few times, visiting Hermione, and told Harry and Ginny about it, the other two had never actually been there, until a few days after Ginny’s birthday, when Hermione, who was back in London with her family, suggested they’d come over and hang out there for a while, wanting to show them where she lived, thinking it’d be a nice change of scenario for the Weasleys, and knowing Ron quite liked it there. Therefore, they planned to go, do some exploring, and return together to The Burrow , which Hermione wouldn’t be leaving again until it was time to go to Hogwarts, in a matter of days.

‘Give Hermione our love,’ said Mrs Weasley on Sunday morning, right before they left to visit Hermione.

‘Mum, we’re picking her up, you’re about to see her,’ Ron pointed out.

‘Still! And give this to Mr and Mrs Granger from your Dad and I, all right?’ Mrs Weasley trusted a large box into Ron’s arms. ‘Careful with it, it’s my famous pumpkin pie.’

It was a pie everyone adored.

Ron held the pie as if it was a fragile baby and they strolled out into the garden, dressed like muggles. Harry, who was sick of wearing Dudley’s hand-me-downs had actually thrown out all of those and had his own clothes now, which was quite the improvement.

‘Right, Ginny, hold onto my arm,’ said Ron. He would apparate them, as the others had no idea where it was, and Ginny still didn’t have her license to apparate, which Ron and Harry had been handed due to their jobs.

‘I’ll hold onto her, if that’s okay,’ said Harry, and took Ginny’s hand with a teasing smile, while Ron rolled eyes at him.

A moment later, they stood between trees and bushes in a large garden field, and stepped out into the open. In front of them, miles of green stretched out, peppered with families enjoying a picnic outdoors. Ron guided them out into a pathway from which Heathgate Street stretched towards St Jude’s Church, framed with rows of large and beautiful houses at each side.

‘So is this the house Hermione grew up with?’ asked Harry as they walked. ‘You know, since Australia.’

‘Yes, they managed to get it back,’ said Ron. ‘It’s really beautiful actually. Hermione said that her parents used to work for an important dental care company that has facilities all across the country, and made a lot of money there, specially only having to spend on one child, before they moved on to open their own little practise with some friends that were also dentists.’

The detached houses looked very nice indeed. At last, they reached a white door at which they stopped and Ron rang the bell. While they waited for the door to open, they jumped as a massive ginger cat jumped on the hedge next to them, and they saw it was Crookshanks , Hermione’s half kneazle cat.

‘Merlin I nearly dropped this. Can’t you knock?’ Ron retorted to the cat, who meowed.

With a click the door unlocked, then opened, and Hermione stood there, beautiful as ever, beaming at them.

‘Hi there! Welcome, come in!’ she moved aside to let them in, kissing Ron and hugging Harry and Ginny as they went in. ‘Crookshanks! There you are, come in! You had me worried, you naughty boy.’

They found themselves in a cosy little entrance hall.

‘Mum made pumpkin pie,’ said Ron, handing the box to Hermione. ‘For your parents. And she sends her love.’

‘Oh she’s so sweet, thank you,’ Hermione grinned, taking the box. ‘Mum! Dad! They’re here! Come in, they’re just in the kitchen having breakfast. Have you eaten anything?’

They soon entered a large kitchen and were affectionately greeted and hugged by Mr and Mrs Granger, who welcomed them with the affection of adults who had known them for years, as it was the case.

‘That smells wonderful Ron, your Mum is such a great cook! Make sure to thank her from us, would you?’ said Mrs Granger as they sat at the table. The Grangers were all dressed, and Mr Granger put aside an edition of The Guardian to make room for the plate of pie.

‘I will. This pie is actually famous in our house, you’ll like it.’

‘It’s insanely good, I’m telling you,’ said Hermione, putting a plate in front for both her Dad and her boyfriend. ‘Pity Ellie is too small for it, but her loss is our win.’

Harry was astonished by how nice the house was. He’d never visited any muggle house but the Dursleys’ and Mrs Figg’s, and he knew Petunia Dursley would’ve loved to live here. The oven and the microwave looked modern and pristine, and Harry had no doubt that they were sitting at the breakfast table, meaning there was a larger one somewhere in the dining room. He was also sure they had had cleaners, if they didn’t have one to this day, and he could almost see the loads of photographs of the sisters Harry was sure filled the house already.

‘You look quite amazed Harry,’ Mrs Granger commented with an amused smile seeing Harry had disconnected himself from the conversation and his jaw was parting slightly as he stared around.

‘This house is amazing,’ said Harry. ‘I was just thinking my aunt would give an arm to live here. And my uncle would be so passive-aggressively angry he can’t afford it.’

Mr and Mrs Granger laughed, and Hermione smiled warmly at him.

‘Wait until I show you the rest. Mum and Dad did very well when I was little, not like they do much worse now.’

‘Well we earn the normal for dentists now, but fortunately we’d already paid the place, and that Mr Shacklebolt was so nice managing to get it back to us,’ explained Mr Granger. ‘You see Harry, Charles Dickens had the trick in his book, David Copperfield, maybe you read it in school?’ Harry nodded.

‘Never spend a penny more than you make.’

‘Exactly. If we had had more kids, it would’ve been a bit of a challenge, but we only ever wanted one, although I can’t complain about how that’s turned out!’ said Mr Granger, chuckling. ‘And we worked very hard for a decade before we even thought of having Hermione, and then we were very lucky, because prices here had plummeted at the time. Now it’s all luxury houses, but when we first got here? It was a humble area, really. We thought it’d be nice to raise a child here, keep it humble and down to Earth, joke’s on us.’

‘Well I was all raised by the time the snobs started to arrive,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘We’ll have to keep an eye on Ellie, make sure she doesn’t start walking like a doll,’ she added jokingly, making them laugh.

‘Speaking of family, how’s everyone at The Burrow doing? I hope a little better?’ worried Mrs Granger, pausing while they all sat and enjoyed tea and pie. A baby monitor remained on the table, near Mrs Granger, presumably to watch her youngest nap.

‘One day at a time, but yes,’ Ron nodded. ‘Harry and I have actually been a little distracted preparing to become Aurors, training and all that.’

‘Sounds interesting. Is it difficult training, like the police?’ Mrs Granger asked.

‘I don’t know the police, but I imagine we must be in a similar level,’ replied Ron, nodding. ‘Yeah, it’s quite tricky. But we enjoy it, right Harry?’

‘I’d much rather be exhausted doing things related to the job I’ve always wanted than, I don’t know, doing homework,’ said Harry.

‘Always work in what you love, that’s the way to happiness,’ said Mr Granger.

‘How about you, have you been adapting well to being back, with Ellie and all?’ asked Ginny politely.

‘Ah, well it’s easy when we actually don’t remember anything after Mr Shacklebolt had to modify our memories,’ said Mrs Granger. They’d lied to make them think it wasn’t Hermione, as to protect their relationship. ‘So to us is just like we strangely woke up from a nap a year later and in a different country, although we do remember Ellie, the pregnancy… they fixed our memories quite well, to keep the best bits. But Hermione covered the tracks very well, so thankfully our family and friends haven’t gotten offended by our sudden absence. We just had the first proper whole family lunch a couple Sundays ago, with Hermione’s cousins and everything, and it was pretty good.’

‘We’ve also been able to get back to work as normal,’ added Mr Granger. ‘Everyone adores Elaine, so there’s always someone available to babysit when we work, or otherwise we take turns. And even Hermione managed to reconnect with her old school friends, didn’t you honey?’

‘We’re in acceptable terms, considering all I ever tell them about my life is a lie,’ said Hermione. ‘Since Hogwarts is out of the question, let alone any word on magic. At this point I’ve got to keep track of the lies in a notebook so I don’t blow it accidentally.’

‘Is not like you’re lying about secretly being a serial killer though, not that bad,’ said Ginny to their amusement.

‘Hermione, have you got everything packed?’ Mrs Granger told her daughter maternally.

‘I’m all packed, left most of the important stuff at The Burrow already anyway, after we did all the shopping. I just need to finish up selecting which—’

‘—books,’ Ron finished for her, and they couldn’t help laughing, because that’s exactly what she was going to say. ‘Good thing Hogwarts's dorms have space enough, because I swear you alone have as many books as all the other girls in your dorm combined.’

‘Well it’s a hard choice!’

‘But you know them by memory by now, sweetheart, sure you don’t even need to bring them,’ teased her Dad.

‘It’s my N.E.W.T. year, they’re not called Nastily Exhausting for no reason, I need to be prepared.’

‘Let’s make a deal,’ said Ron. ‘Pick five that you really, really think you’ll need, plus the ones from your actual school list. And if you happen to miss any other and they don’t have a copy in the library, you can ask me to send it to you and I’ll come fetch it and send it with Pigwidgeon.’

‘Better grab my owl, I think Pigwidgeon’s too small for any book Hermione owns,’ joked Harry, and Hermione side smiled and rolled eyes.

‘Will you really?’ she asked her boyfriend.

‘Of course. Just remember the magical word please, and I’ll do it.’

‘Deal, thank you. That makes things so much easier, let me just… I’ll go real quick and finish up. Then we can have a walk or something, I’ll show you around, it’s such a nice area.’

Hermione rushed upstairs and Crookshanks , who had been sitting by her chair, ran after her. It seemed like the cat hadn’t liked to be separated from her a whole year.

‘Thank God she’s got you now, Ron, that girl needs a bit more fun in her life,’ said Mrs Granger appreciatively, and Ron blushed.

They joined Hermione in her room once they’d finished breakfast, and found themselves in a beautiful pale blue room full of books wherever they looked. They were pleasantry surprised to find pictures of themselves on the walls, of their happiest summers together, mostly, and also saw a few pictures that looked very recent, in Australia, with Ellie. Since a lot of her luggage was already at The Burrow , Hermione only had a large bag on her bed, which she was filling up to the brim. In a corner sat the cat’s cage, empty for now.

‘I’m almost ready,’ said Hermione looking stressed, sitting on her bed staring at ten books lined-up on it, with Crookshanks sitting with her, purring.

‘No hurry,’ said Ron, sitting at her desk chair, turning back to look at her with his arms around the back of her chair. ‘Maybe take the smaller ones? Less heavy in the bag, easier to move around the train. I’ll send you the others.’

His easy understanding that she simply couldn’t make a choice seemed to become one more reason why she adored him, and Hermione looked at him appreciatively and sighed in relief.

‘Thank you!’ she said, gave him a quick peck, and put the smaller books in her trunk, handing Ron the others, which he put in his backpack to send her later. Harry and Ginny, who weren’t too used to their PDA because Ron and Hermione were so shy it was kept to a minimum at home, exchanged smiles, happy to see, and sat on a corner of the bed.

‘You’ve got such a nice room,’ Ginny commented. ‘Why so many boxes though?’ she added, noticing a few boxes piled in a corner.

‘Ah, yeah. I’ve decided to give Elaine my bedroom, since this is the best room really, I’m going to Hogwarts and then after I won’t be here much, I don’t think. My parents said I can move to the guest room, so I’ve been very slowly beginning to reorganise some things, preparing to vacate this room around Christmas or… maybe after school. Ellie will be fine with her crib in my parents’ room until then.’

Hermione showed them the rest of the house, and the four friends sat on her large garden, chatting animatedly until lunch time, when they went back inside and helped set the table and everything. Knowing her minutes there were counted now, Hermione was extra helpful with her parents, extra affectionate and extra grateful, offering to take Elaine from her nap and entertaining her when her parents were busy.

The meal was enjoyable and full of laughter, in spite of the imminent farewell. Hermione took a moment afterwards to go brush her teeth and pack her toilet bag, and then Ron helped her bring her stuff down the stairs with the help of some magic. Then, the four set out to explore Hampstead Heath Extension and the Muggle neighbourhood, having tea at a place not too far, which was also quite enjoyable, before finally, towards the evening, returning to the house, where it became time to go.

‘Okay, Crookshanks I know you hate it, I’m sorry, but you need to go in here just for a few minutes,’ Hermione coaxed the large cat into its cage, and the cat meowed angrily and tried to slap her. ‘Hey! Keep those nails to yourself. Soon enough you’ll be chasing gnomes and will thank me for bringing you along, or would you rather stay here all year, uh? I thought so.’

‘You can write us if you need anything,’ said Mrs Granger, hugging her daughter tightly. ‘And otherwise we’ll see you on the 23^rd of December, correct?’

‘Correct. I’ll write just to hear from you, though,’ said Hermione, hugging her mother back and kissing her cheek. ‘I love you, I’ll miss you. And send pictures of Ellie every day and tell her I love her and I miss her and show her pictures of me, so she doesn’t forget me.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Mrs Granger chuckled. ‘We love you, and we’ll miss you, but cheer up, it’s just a few months, and soon you’ll be too busy to miss us, Head Girl.’

‘I’m never too busy to miss my family,’ clarified Hermione, and hugged her Dad, who kissed the top of her head as he hugged her back. ‘I love you Dad.’

‘Love you too sweetheart. Don’t study too hard and have fun with your friends, uh? And send Mr and Mrs Weasley our love, we really loved that pie. I wish we had anything prepared to give them…’

‘Don’t worry Mr Granger, it’s fine,’ said Ron quickly.

‘Oh, and Ellie,’ Hermione scooped her sister from her Dad’s arms. The little seven months old girl looked around, gurgling, and Hermione grinned at her, hugging her and kissing her. ‘I’ll see you soon okay? Be good. I love you.’ She gave her one last squeeze, smiling warmly at her sister even when a knot was settling in her throat, and returned her to her father.

Mr Granger shook their hands as they headed out, and Mrs Granger gave them tight hugs and wished them a good trip. Ginny took Crookshank ’s cage, Ron the trunk, and Hermione her bag and backpack, and the four headed out, back into the street. Hermione was slightly down, but pulled through. Harry thought he understood. It wasn’t just about saying bye to her family again, and missing months of her sister’s early life, but she probably would never forget the day she’d obliviated them and left, and this was probably a very intense reminder of that day.

But as soon as they arrived back to The Burrow and Hermione freed her cat, who shot out and raced for the garden, the smile returned to her face, staring at the tall house in the horizon with happiness and hope, ready for whatever the magical world brought her next.

The mood in the house descended slightly as the summer came to an end, and September approached, neither of them wanting for it to really arrive. But the thing about time is that when you want it to pass more slowly, it seems to accelerate, so after Ginny’s birthday it seemed like the end of August came faster than lightning, in a matter of hours. Soon, Hermione and Ginny were stressing themselves and everybody else packing their things, running around The Burrow looking for the lost this and that, triple-checking their school lists and their bags and trunks, putting one laundry after another, folding clothes, and carefully packing them away. Hermione spent three of the final days of the month with her parents and Elaine to bid them proper farewell, and soon, she was back at The Burrow for the last dinner before school.

Harry and Ron struggled to remember a pre school dinner more filled of dread than this one, in which neither Hermione nor Ginny really wanted to go, nor did anyone want them to go. But Neville, Luna, and most of their old room-mates and Dumbledore’s Army would be coming back too, so at least, Hermione and Ginny would have friends. They were already expected to spend more time in each other’s company than in previous years, their friendship stronger than ever, and invited for tea at Hagrid’s on the first Friday of the school year.

‘All right,’ Mr Weasley stood up, holding his glass. ‘A toast to our youngest ladies. Enjoy your last year, have fun with your friends, and remember to commit every bit of Hogwarts to memory. And in Hermione’s case… don’t forget to not study sometimes,’ he joked, making Hermione smile. She’d been feeling a little emotional all day, and although they’d all noticed her eyes occasionally brimming with tears and her smiles weaker than usual, they were giving her space, thinking it was just missing her family and knowing she’d miss them. ‘To you both!’

They drank in their honour and Ginny seemed a little more cheerful, smiling sincerely and enjoying the company. That was, until Hermione suddenly dropped her knife and fork with a clatter, brusquely stood up mumbling an apology, and ran off, but not so fast that they wouldn’t hear a sob breaking before she had reached the stairs.

Automatically, Ginny, who had half-expected Hermione to break at some point given how borderline crying she’d been all day, Ron and Harry got up to follow her. Harry walked slower, in case that when Ginny, who in his opinion was the most adept at these things, reached Hermione, she deemed this a girls’ occasion and kicked them out.

Yet that didn’t happen. When Harry got to Hermione’s door, which had been left ajar, he was paralysed on the spot, feeling his stomach drop to the ground at the heartbreaking sight. Hermione had dropped on her bed and seemed to be simultaneously trying to cry her eyes out and choking and being unable to breathe, which had her gasping for air, choking, crying, and becoming more anguished by her inability to breathe right, thus crying more, snot coming out of her nose and her eyes covered in tears. Harry remembered then the psychology books he’d read to deal with his childhood trauma and resolved that Hermione was having quite a bad panic attack, but Ginny seemed unsurprised and unfazed by it, her voice carrying with total calmness and tenderness.

‘Of course you can breathe,’ she was reassuring Hermione, who apparently had managed to choke out some words. ‘You are breathing. Your lungs work, your heart works, everything is fine. You are breathing,’ Ginny sat next to her, soothingly rubbing her back in circles. ‘Ron,’ she turned to her brother who, far from running away, had knelt in front of Hermione, looking shocked, horrified, but determined as ever, ‘Ron, take her hand. Sweetie, focus on Ron’s hand, uh? Squeeze it tight. It’s all going to be okay.’

‘I’m right here,’ Ron whispered, taking one of her hands.

‘We’re all here,’ Harry sat on the other side of her and put a soft hand on her knee.

But Hermione was shaking her head, and seemed to be struggling to breathe so much that crying was no longer a big concern. She couldn’t oxygenate enough to properly sob or anything, so she threw her head back in anguish, trying to get some air in, desperately pulling from the collar of her t-shirt and even her necklace. Ginny took a blanket that was folded on the bed and unfolded it, wrapping it around Hermione, kicking off her shoes and climbing on the bed behind her to hug her from behind.

‘Feel my heart,’ Ginny whispered against her ear. Harry understood that she was hoping that with her own heart calmly beating against Hermione’s back, Hermione’s would automatically regulate. ‘Feel that?’ Hermione nodded, breathing hard. ‘Good job. This will pass in a minute. Inhale, exhale… you’re doing okay. You’ll be fine soon,’ she encouraged her softly, speaking in a tender voice against her ear without squeezing her with her arms, but simply loosely wrapping her arms around her waist, her hands on her thighs. ‘Inhale… exhale…’ Ginny imitated it with her, watching her friend with rapt attention.

‘I— can’t,’ Hermione gasped out, her eyes full of tears.

‘Yes you can. You’re already doing it honey, look at you,’ Ron encouraged her softly.

‘That’s right. There is yet to be an instruction Hermione Granger can’t follow,’ Ginny smiled at her, lifting a hand to clean the tears off her face. ‘In and out, you’ve got this Hermione. It’s just panic, it comes and it goes. Just panic. You’re safe.’

It took a few minutes of anguishing sounds of breathlessness, but at last, Hermione managed to inhale strongly, followed by a few deep inhalations more, and her panic seemed to settle down and vanish. As she calmed, her sadness took over and at last she was able to cry freely, bending over with her face in her hands and crying her eyes out for real now. Carefully, Ginny extricated herself.

‘We’ll be there when you need us sweetie,’ Ginny reassured Hermione, squeezing her shoulder, and got up, motioning for Harry to follow. She looked at her brother, mouthing “all yours” and Ron nodded and got up, hugging Hermione in his arms as he too sat with her.

Leaving the room, Ginny closed the door after them.

‘That was incredible,’ said Harry. ‘How did you…?’

‘She’s been struggling for months, and I’m going to be the one there with her so… I read some books,’ Ginny shrugged. ‘I wanted to be able to help her. Besides, they come in handy for me too. She’s gotten permission to go see her therapist once a week from Hogwarts, being of age, but still… they don’t just fix everything from one day to another.’

‘You’re an incredible friend. Are you sure is okay to leave her now?’

‘Yeah, Ron knows how to handle the crying part, and she’ll be mortified enough, better give her some privacy,’ they began to walk down.

‘D’you know what that was about? The torture?’

‘I don’t know, but I have a feeling is returning to Hogwarts, because she was doing well. Could be the memories of battle… I’ve felt a bit anxious to return too.’

‘I’ve noticed,’ said Harry.

‘I think it might be harder for her though. I mean, each person gets affected completely differently even if the event is the same, and each manages themselves differently… Perhaps Quidditch’s made me more used to handling anxiety with frequency, I don’t know.’

‘You’re different women, that’s all,’ said Harry.

They reached the kitchen, where everyone still looked worried at the table.

‘Is she okay?’ Mrs Weasley asked worried.

‘No, but Ron can help her. I’ll bring her a camomile, perhaps…’

‘Was it something I said?’ asked Mr Weasley in concern as Ginny put on the kettle and Harry sat back down.

‘No, Dad, don’t worry,’ Ginny reassured her father, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘It seemed to me like a panic attack. Probably because we’re leaving tomorrow, but you know, she’s with that therapist, they’ll sort her out.’

It took over an hour for Hermione and Ron to come back downstairs, and by then they’d tidied-up the table and were having a post-dinner tea, but everyone looked up immediately when they heard them coming. Ron was standing by Hermione, holding her hand, and she was looking pale, but otherwise it didn’t seem like she’d just been crying her eyes out. She was carrying the empty cup of camomile Ginny had previously brought up, and everyone had been leaving them be without interrupting.

‘Hi,’ said Hermione a little hoarsely, ‘I’m sorry about storming off… it was nothing anybody said or did, and I’m fine now. I just needed a moment.’

‘Of course dear,’ Mrs Weasley got up and hugged her lovingly. ‘Come, do you want some cake? You too, Ron, seems like you haven’t stopped growing just yet…’

Harry and Ginny shoot Hermione concerned looks as she sat back down, but she smiled and shook her head, as if signalling she was okay and it wasn’t the right moment to speak freely. Ron remained by her side, making sure she wouldn’t go to bed with an empty stomach.

‘...and if we can help with anything at all,’ Mrs Weasley’s voice carried out as the four youngest prepared to go up to their room after cake and tea, ‘you can tell us, Hermione, you don’t have to suffer in silence, okay?’

‘Thank you Molly, I appreciate it. But really, no worries. I have therapy in three days, it’ll be okay until then,’ yet as soon as the four were left alone at the bottom of the stairs, Hermione rejoined the other three, that had gone a bit ahead and whispered: ‘let’s go to Ron’s, it’s farther.’

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: Trio no more.

The only people who slept underneath Ron’s bedroom were their parents, who had a tendency to go to bed a bit late, especially considering that neither of them would have to get up early to make the trip for King’s Cross in the morning. Harry and Ron had already offered to accompany Hermione and Ginny and send them off, and since the ladies could apparate now, the trip would be quite fast and there was no need for anyone to be up at an exaggerated time of the morning. Because of this, Ron’s room in the fifth floor was the most isolated and where they could speak most privately.

Hermione, Ginny, Harry and Ron thus climbed to the top of all the stairs, and reached Ron’s small yet cosy room. Harry’s fold-out bed was no longer there, which gave them a bit more room, and Ron had spent part of the summer removing the vast majority of the Chudley Cannons posters and decoration that had previously made his room feel like being inside a bonfire, so that now they could see a white wall with two or three Chudley Cannons posters and décor items, as well as the recently added photographs they had taken during the summer, having fun and good times, the majority of them sweet candid ones of Ron and Hermione. It showed Ron’s growth as a person, and how Quidditch no longer occupied such a big space in his heart and mind.

While Ron closed the door, Ginny and Harry threw the usual pillows and cushions over the rug on the floor and Hermione grabbed the customary empty glass jar Ron kept in a corner and magically produced a flame inside, putting it on the floor so they could sit around it forming a circle over the cushions. It seemed like whatever Hermione had to say, it cost her almost physical effort to get going, and that whatever it was, Ron already knew, because he seemed much less eager and impatient than the youngest two, and had placed a gentle hand of support on Hermione’s knee, which she was intertwining her fingers with.

‘I’m sorry about before, I didn’t mean to freak anyone out and Ginny, thank you for—,’

‘Don’t you dare apologise for suffering, Hermione,’ said Ginny impatiently, and Hermione, touched, gave her a small smile. ‘Just tell us what’s up so we can help you.’

‘The witch therapist called it… Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is actually as common in the muggle world as in this one,’ said Hermione, sounding rather tired, as if she’d done all the effort to appear upbeat and all right downstairs for the others, and had no more energy to play pretend. ‘At first it was just about Lestrange torturing me at Malfoy Manor, but as we began to unpack in therapy, it started to become an escalating ball.’

‘Sounds like therapy doesn’t work so well then,’ commented Harry. ‘If it makes the problem bigger?’

‘It wasn’t like she grew the problem… more like… you know, like doing a big clean-up. At first you think you just have to tidy up a little, clean a couple things, empty the bin,’ explained Hermione. ‘Yet once you start, you start to see more dirt and disorder underneath. It’s not like the rubbish has grown, it was always there, just covered up by other stuff that didn’t let you see it.’

‘So she fixed one problem to discover a hundred,’ said Ginny.

‘Yes, sort of. I stopped having nightmares about the torture only to have others, and when I was in Australia, I began to notice things were odd, that’s when I went to the first therapy who was actually Australian,’ said Hermione. ‘I was startled. If Elaine started crying I was having flashbacks of people screaming and then I had panic attacks and was trying to hide it from my parents because what can they do? If I tell them half of what really happened in any more detail than the amounts they have, they will never sleep calmly again, they’re Muggles. All they can do is sit powerlessly and worry, and if Elaine turns out to be a witch, then it’ll just worsen once they find out she’s also coming to this dangerous world where they cannot help their girls, and I’ll drive them to an early grave from the stress, and I refuse.’

‘Of course,’ Ron nodded understanding.

‘Any sudden noise had me freaking out,’ added Hermione. ‘People coming up behind me, strangers walking behind me in the street, anybody who stared at me for more than a few seconds, and I’d panic, as if I was still hiding and running away.’

‘Stuff that did happen to all of us, but that while we sort of managed half okay, got out of control with Hermione,’ added Ron, and Hermione added in agreement.

It was true. Harry, Ron and Ginny had both noticed and commented, often as they would see it in the others more than in themselves, similar types of behaviour to the ones Hermione had just described. Harry, for example, had slept with his wand under the pillow for the entire trip with Ginny, and had startled and pointed it up at the slightest noise. But Ginny was the first to feel better, with loads of help from her trip, reading psychology books, to help Hermione, listening to music and playing loads of Quidditch, and she hadn’t been acting up in weeks. Ron had a tendency to be more relaxed when surrounded by acquaintances or in places that weren’t too full of people, and when he began to feel stressed and anxious, deep breaths had often done the trick. As for Harry, he still had a bit of a way to go, but had found the trip abroad quite helpful, as well as Ginny’s company and Quidditch, and his strategy was to be too busy to have time to be anxious. It wasn’t a perfect strategy, but it did the trick for the time being, at least. Hermione had tried out her fair share of techniques, as they had heard at times, such as breathing techniques, walks, reading or playing chess, but they hadn’t proven to be as effective as therapy had, sometimes, been. It was simply a matter of each person being their own world, so that things that worked for one didn’t have to work for everyone, even if the trauma was the exact same.

‘When you say out of control, you mean you’ve been having these panic attacks all summer while we were away?’ inquired Ginny.

‘No, this is the first one. But is true that none of the techniques I’ve been trying seemed to do much for me, so the witch therapist gave me potions,’ clarified Hermione. ‘But if I wasn’t full of potions, I couldn’t manage. And lately I’ve been trying to get out of them because they make me a bit groggy, and I can’t study like that once I go to Hogwarts, I need to have a clear mind, jump in the pool and learn to manage this mess on my own. But for that to happen… we had to get to the root of the problem in therapy, which was insanely difficult considering the amounts of baggage that have to be unpacked to even get near it.’

‘Did you get there then?’ asked Harry.

‘Sort of,’ Hermione nodded. ‘It seems as if everything is rooted on deep insecurity towards my very own survival skills, because DADA was the one subject I never excelled in. I can’t do a Patronus, not any more. I have tried several times this summer and it’s worse than bad, not even a hint of light, the therapist said my own problems affect my skills as a witch which in return, make my own problems worse because they make me more insecure and afraid, so it becomes a vicious circle. The therapist pointed out that I have never actually gotten myself out of a tricky situation alone, that I’ve somehow become dependant on Ron or you, Harry, to get out of trouble, and that therefore the idea of going back to Hogwarts, where we all nearly died, and that is doomed to be intensively triggering, and doing all those Head Girl rounds alone at night and all that sort of stuff there, where friends died and everything… and without either of you around… she says that that’s what’s freaking the hell out of me the most. It does explain why two out of three nightmares I get these days are about a loved one, more often Ron, dying because I couldn’t be good enough to help out. And since being afraid of failure roots back to my childhood, it’s not even just about the last few years any more, it’s try and unpack… nearly two decades of things.’

‘It’s true you were always super insecure when it came to duel, you’re your own worst enemy there,’ Harry admitted, having noticed it early on when they were in Dumbledore’s Army. ‘But Hermione, you’ve saved our lives a handful of times, of course you can get yourself out of tricky situations alone. It’s just that you’ve never gotten into a tricky situation alone because it’s always been Ron and I who dragged you into those. Without us, you might have the easiest year ever.’

‘Which is what I said,’ said Ron. ‘That troll nearly killed you because I upset you into being in the toilet and we locked the troll with you without realising, it was only fair we’d get you out of trouble. And in all honesty, we probably wouldn’t have gotten to the basilisk and fixed the whole you being petrified thing if wasn’t because of the clues you and Hagrid dropped and Harry’s Parseltongue abilities. It’s not even like we saved you, Madam Pomfrey did. But you and Harry managed to save Buckbeak and Sirius largely because of you, Hermione. If it wasn’t for you and your time-turner skills, things would’ve gone very differently. Harry would’ve screwed it all up had he been left alone with that thing.’

‘I would’ve,’ Harry agreed, to Hermione’s amusement.

‘It’s not about my lack of intelligence, I know what my brain’s worth,’ said Hermione. ‘It’s just… it’s easy when it’s all about keeping a cold mind, examining facts and evidence and making logical deduction. It’s easy for me to memorise stuff in books and dump it out word for word, I so happen to have a great memory, tons of brain space for textbooks, and the capacity to find the logic behind things quite easily. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it…’

‘It’s matters of the heart, not the brain,’ said Ginny, and Hermione nodded in agreement. ‘I mean, so long as being clever is the only requirement, you’re good to go. Herbology, Transfigurations, Charms, Potions… brilliant at all that, aren’t you? But the moment you’re required emotional strength, that’s another story. No offence, but it’s rather funny, you’re brilliant like Harry isn’t, but he excels at DADA and you don’t in a big part because he’s great at managing his emotions in situations of extreme danger and stress so he can keep performing great in duels no matter how high the stakes are, whereas you…’

‘Lose my shit,’ Hermione agreed. ‘No offence taken, is just the truth. And the more heart a spell requires, like the Patronus Charm, the worse I am. I could’ve easily gotten myself killed at the Department of Mysteries not to mention I was no help to anyone in duel, I never have been, I’m pretty sure hadn’t we taken Felix Felicis I would’ve died the night Dumbledore died at Hogwarts… and in the year we were away—,’

‘You saved our lives a bunch of times, single-handedly, Hermione. I do think you’ve gotten better at keeping a clear, functioning mind under life-or-death pressure,’ said Harry. ‘Think about it. You got us out of the Ministry, you got me out of Godric’s Hollow, you got us out of Xenophilius Lovegood’s house…’

‘You forget that you were the one to lead us out of the Ministry, all I did was apparate us out,’ said Hermione. ‘And it doesn’t take great skill to open a bottle of Essence of Dittany and pour it on an injured person. And Godric’s Hollow… Harry, you don’t know half of what happened in Godric’s Hollow.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I nearly killed you, rather than saving you, we had more luck than anything else,’ said Hermione. ‘When Nagini appeared, I lost my shit. Your wand didn’t get broken because my spell happened to ricochet, Harry, your wand broke because I was such a wreck that when I threw Confringo into the room, it ricochetted everywhere. It didn’t happen because of Nagini, that is never supposed to happen, unless you’re just starting to learn spells. My wand is dragon heartstring, wands that have enormous power, so a bad wizard or witch can really have a spell get out of control and kill someone. If you hadn’t ducked, you’d be dead, it was a miracle only the wand broke. And I didn’t get you out of there, don’t you remember?’

‘Of course you did.’

‘No I didn’t,’ Hermione insisted with a sad smile. ‘You got us both out. You grabbed me and jumped out of the window, I only Disapparated us mid-air, which I don’t know how I did and I could probably not do again. You, poisoned by that snake and half passed-out managed what I couldn’t at the top of my health and abilities.’

Harry looked stunned that he’d remember it so differently, but then again, he was passed out quite soon after.

‘I didn’t remember that,’ he admitted, and she looked understandingly at him.

‘How would you? You were unconscious a minute later,’ she sighed deeply. ‘And then is the same thing over and over. If it weren’t for you two, I’d have died at Malfoy Manor. If it weren’t for you two, I’d have died in the Battle. Hell, if it wasn’t for Neville, Nagini would’ve made purée with Ron and I.’

‘We do owe him,’ Ron recognised. ‘But, so what if you’re not as brilliant dueller as Harry or other people? We can’t all be great at everything, you’ve got the brains.’

‘It’s not jealousy, it’s not like I have a personal problem with not being an expert dueller. My therapist said that it’s simply the fact that returning to a place where you’ve got a gazillion bad memories it’s already triggering enough for PTSD, that in itself is enough to cause panic attacks, but if on top of that I’m going while being hyper-aware that that’s where I would’ve died if it wasn’t for someone else who is not there any more, and therefore won’t save my arse any more, and I don’t have the confidence that I’d be able to save myself… then the distress multiplies.’

‘So… in the end is a matter of Harry and me not being there,’ said Ron. ‘Because we’re the ones that would comfort you and make you feel a little safer in spite of the memories Hogwarts brings.’

‘Yes.’

They sat in thoughtful silence, trying to figure out a way to help Hermione. Harry and Ron were feeling a little guilty, as if it was their fault.

‘I didn’t imagine breaking us up would have such consequences,’ Harry admitted. ‘I’m sorry, Hermione.’

‘You shouldn’t be, it’s not your fault,’ she replied. ‘This isn’t happening to me because you and Ron don’t want to come to Hogwarts. Something would’ve happened either way, sooner or later, I’ve always lacked confidence when it comes to duelling. Now the mere thought of duelling makes me break in cold sweat.’

‘So what actually happened before? What made you freak out, what were you thinking?’ Ginny asked tenderly, not wanting to upset Hermione by having her think about it.

Hermione bit her lip in thought, staring at the flame dancing in the jar.

‘I thought of Hogwarts. And it just… the idea of going back was suddenly overwhelming. Next thing, I couldn’t breathe… and anytime I think of being there, especially of walking alone around those corridors… my heart goes racing and my hands start sweating. That goes without even thinking of the N.E.W.T.s that I will fail if I can’t manage to do magic normally again, I’ve tried a few N.E.W.T. level spells, but I can’t quite… it’s like my wand was broken. Only simple stuff, like this.’

‘Are you sure your wand’s allegiance is with you?’ asked Ron. ‘Dragon heartstring’s allegiance does change very easily.’

‘I thought about that and had Ollivander check it one of the days I went to Diagon Alley for therapy. But he says my wand is right, that if it’s underperforming it’s on me. Of course he said it more gently than that,’ explained Hermione. ‘But we know emotions affect our abilities. Tonks could hardly do metamorphomagic after Sirius died and Remus wasn’t willing to go on with their relationship. I’m a Seventh Year Head Girl who can no longer do advanced magic, they’re going to kick my arse in the N.E.W.T.s from Scotland to Australia.’

‘Are you sure you have to go back?’ said Ron. ‘Perhaps if you asked McGonagall, you could prepare here, you’re smart enough, and then just go do the exams in June. Even more so, do you even need N.E.W.T.s? Kingsley’s doing exceptions for us, he could do them for you.’

Hermione smiled sadly at Ron, touched that he would try to get her out of such situation like that, and caressed his cheek.

‘Even if that were the case, sweetie, I can’t let Voldemort take my education away from me. I still happen to love studying, I don’t want to miss out, even if it scares the crap out of me to return. But it’ll be all right, I don’t want anyone to worry,’ she patted Ron’s thigh. ‘Surely it’ll be a few rough weeks and I’ll be too distracted studying and doing mountains of homework to think of these things, then I’ll be fine. I’ve got months until my N.E.W.T.s, I’ll manage.’

‘What if I ask McGonagall for permission to go make you company? Like… don’t muggles use support pets? You told me about that once, I could be like, your support companion. She’ll understand there are special circumstances going on,’ offered Ron, and Hermione chuckled.

‘That’s very sweet of you to offer Ron, but the Ministry needs you,’ She kissed him and got up, taking a deep breath. ‘I better go to bed. My letter said I am supposed to arrive at the Station with time to find the Head Boy and all the Prefects, so we can head the first Prefects’ meeting in the train. I already know everyone’s first passwords and have to give them to them, make schedules for our rounds around the castle…’

‘Who’s the Head Boy?’ asked Ginny.

‘Ernie Macmillan, it was doomed to happen, but at least he’s a nice one and he’s DA, so,’ Hermione seemed satisfied. ‘I do reckon first Slytherin that crosses me is going to get a dose of whatever faulty spell I can make. But there won’t be any Malfoy, he’s not in the Prefects’ list I was given.’

‘That’s right, who are the Prefects now? I was one, but since I’m out…’ Ron got up, taking interest.

‘Neville comes in for you,’ announced Hermione with a smirk. ‘One great thing to happen this year.’

‘And you didn’t think of mentioning it sooner!’ Ginny exclaimed. ‘That’s excellent news!’

‘It is,’ Hermione smiled sincerely. ‘So Gryffindor has us both, as I’m still serving as Prefect as well, then a couple of Ginny’s classmates, uh, Melinda Ward and Hamish Abernathy.’

‘Yeah, nice ones,’ Ginny nodded.

‘And a couple of fifth years, no one you know, probably,’ said Hermione.

‘Is Parkinson still in Slytherin?’ asked Ron.

‘Yes, probably pissed off she’s not Head Girl. But Zabini substitutes Malfoy,’ explained Hermione. ‘I don’t know the fifth years coming in, but the others are all the same in all the houses, people we knew when we were Sixth Years. Right, I’m off to bed. Goodnight.’

‘Wait, I’ll go with you.’

Ron followed Hermione out and Harry and Ginny exchanged worried expressions.

‘I’ll take care of her,’ said Ginny.

‘Take care of yourself too, will you?’ Harry caressed her cheek. ‘And write to me?’

‘All the time. Let’s go to bed,’ Ginny stood up, offering him her hands to pull him up and kiss him. ‘We’ll all be okay.’

They were all looking forward to not waking up too early, but Hermione’s brain had other plans. It seemed like the imminent arrival to Hogwarts had sent her completely off-balance, because Harry woke up to screams he had hoped to never have to hear again after Malfoy Manor, jumped out of bed, and was in Hermione’s room, wand out, in a moment, on time to see Ginny had arrived before him and was holding Hermione tight in her arms as her older friend sobbed against her chest.

‘Wha—,’ Harry attempted to ask, breathless. Ginny turned to him.

‘A nightmare. Would you please get Ron? She was screaming for him.’

Harry nodded, turning around to make his way upstairs.

It took Ron some time, but he managed not just to calm her, but to coax Hermione back to sleep for another couple hours, snuggling with her on her bed and holding her in his arms. And yet, when they came downstairs for breakfast, they informed them that Hermione, who looked ashed, had been sick and Ron had convinced her to take her potions, even if they made her a tad groggy, to get herself together a little. She hardly ate, even when Mrs Weasley pulled out some soup kinder to her stomach than the full English she’d made for everyone.

‘Perhaps you shouldn’t go, I could write to McGonagall,’ said Mrs Weasley, unconvinced, as she felt for Hermione’s forehead motherly with her own lips. ‘You definitely have a fever, dear.’

Hermione had slumped on the kitchen table with her head on her arms, too groggy from her potions, tired from lack of proper rest, and ill-feeling to do much else, but she still managed to argue.

‘I need to go back, it’ll only get worse, it’s the dread. Once I’m there, it’ll be better,’ they didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself more than them, but they let her be.

‘Let’s make a deal, we have plenty of time so… what if I run you a nice hot bath, uh?’ Ron offered sweetly. ‘I’ll make sure you’re properly packed, all you have to do is relax and get dressed, and I’ll have everything ready. We have time to take things slow.’

‘Okay.’

‘I’ll run it,’ said Ginny, her breakfast plate empty now. ‘You stay with her.’

‘Thanks,’ Ron looked appreciatively at her sister and sat caressing Hermione’s hair softly. ‘I’ll talk to Ernie, he’s a reasonable guy. I’ll tell him you’ve been unwell this morning and ask him if he doesn’t mind taking over in the train so you can get some rest in the compartment.’

‘Yeah… I don’t think I can think clearly with those potions Ron,’ mumbled Hermione with her eyes closed. ‘My brain feels foggy…’

‘Don’t worry, we’ve got this.’

‘I’ll be right back,’ Harry had an idea, but knew offering it would mostly meet resistance and he didn’t think Hermione was in any shape to waste time and energy arguing. He rushed to his room and grabbed parchment and his quill and ink, sitting at Bill’s old desk.

“Dear Hagrid,

Hermione’s been sick this morning. She’s been very anguished, anxious and stressed with the idea of returning to Hogwarts without Ron and I, seeing a therapist to deal with all the traumatic events she went through, but they’re still affecting her a lot and making her freak out, and yet, we have found no way of convincing her to stay.

Ron’s given her something her therapist prescribed, but it makes her rather drowsy, so we’re going to try and get her out of Head Girl & Prefect duties at least for the train trip. Ginny will look after her, but would you please keep an eye on them both, if you can, when they get to Hogsmeade? Before you take the First Years. And just, keep an eye on them from us when you see them around Hogwarts. They wouldn’t like me telling you anything I suppose, but Ron and I are worried, and we trust you.

Have a great start of the new school year, I hope this is the best one yet. I’ll see you around Hogsmeade soon.

Miss you.

Harry. ”

Harry folded the note and looked around for Astra his new owl had her orange head tucked under her wing, sleeping in her cage.

‘Astra, please, wake up,’ the owl hooted in complain, biting him gently when he pet her awake. ‘Please, it’s urgent. I know it’s daylight, but I need you to give this to Rubeus Hagrid, he’s the Gatekeeper at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland. I know it’s a long trip, but please, it’s important.’

Harry knew Hedwig would’ve jumped up to the opportunity of being of service, and considered it a personal offence if Harry used another owl to avoid bothering her. But he and Astra were still warming up to each other, and he found himself pleading with the bird in an attempt to start off with a good foot. He’d barely given her work all summer.

Seemingly deciding it was okay, Astra jumped out of the cage when he opened it, and let him tie the note to her leg, taking her to the window. Harry gave her some owl candy and pet her fondly, opening his window.

‘Have a safe flight, okay? You can stay in Hogwarts for a day or two if you want, they’ve got nice rats there for you to eat. Be good.’

The owl pecked his finger again, but softly, and jumped off his arm, flying out into the blue sky. As soon as she was gone, Harry got dressed and found Ginny in her room, dressed and brushing her hair.

‘Hey,’ Harry hugged her from behind, dodging her hairbrush to kiss her. ‘How are you holding up?’

‘Mostly fine, really. Kind of excited… I suppose being busy thinking of taking care of Hermione gives me a sense of purpose that helps me not freak out,’ was Ginny’s hypothesis. ‘In any case, it should be a good year. We’ll have a new DADA teacher, the curse over them is lifted, and we’ll have no Malfoy, all the other Slytherins will probably be not so cocky any more, I’m wining us a Quidditch Cup, seeing Hagrid, hanging out with my friends…’

‘That’s the right way to see it, well done.’

‘I suppose it’s harder for Hermione. I am popular, I’ve got plenty of friends to help me out… Hermione used to be the nerdy girl nobody wanted to befriend, she had you and Ron, really.’

‘Now she’s got the DA.’

‘Yes, but it’s not the same. Even Neville and I aren’t the same. What she has with you two… she’s never going to have it with anyone else, not to mention Ronald is her actual boyfriend. Woah,’ Ginny stopped brushing her hair, as if struck by something grand. ‘I can’t even believe I just said that and it’s true.’

Harry snorted a laugh.

‘They probably can’t either. I’ll see you in Hogsmeade first weekend you’re allowed to go?’

‘I’m seventeen. We can go to Hogsmeade any weekend we want, so you will see me on Saturday.’

‘Really?’ Harry looked stunned. ‘How come I didn’t know? Hermione and Ron never went any time they wanted when they turned seventeen…’

‘That’s how spoiled you are and how nice they are,’ Ginny giggled, kissing him and putting her hairbrush down. ‘Right, help me pack my toiletries and get my stuff down… I want to have a romantic walk with you in the garden, if we have this much time.’

They did have plenty of time for a romantic walk, and for stolen kisses around the bushes and snuggles on the grass, but at last they had to return to The Burrow, and they weren’t prepared for what awaited them. Hermione didn’t look like the Hermione they had left behind, nor like the Hermione they had expected to find. She was walking around the living area checking her checklist to ensure she wasn’t forgetting anything, with Ron staring at her like she was from outer space. She had her short hair loose and looking beautiful with some waves zigzagging in it, she had put light make-up on to cover her paleness, and she was even wearing a soft lipstick. Not only did she look entirely put-together and in warrior mode, with the familiar spark of determination back behind her eyes, but she was also already in her uniform, even when they usually didn’t put it on until they were in the train.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: King’s Cross Station.

Due to the Statute of Secrecy, wizards and witches weren’t allowed to dress as such in the presence of Muggles outside their closest relatives such as parents or siblings who knew who they were, in the case of them being Muggles. That’s also why they only got dressed in the train, but Hermione wasn’t wearing her robes, which were the only part of their uniform that couldn’t easily pass for a Muggle school uniform, so it was okay. She was wearing her school shoes, her black tights, Hogwarts’ dark grey skirt and white shirt, and wore her dark grey cardigan open, with the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, so that the only marks of Gryffindor left were the bottom’s crimson and golden trimmings of her cardigan. She was looking slightly informal by not buttoning her shirt up to her collar just yet, and not wearing her tie yet, which they saw her shove into her rucksack.

‘Pretty sure I’ve got everything,’ said Hermione, turning to Ron.

‘Sure you do, brilliant job,’ he offered her a high-five, which she enthusiastically gave him.

‘Who are you and what have you done with the Hermione we left like an hour ago?’ asked Ginny in astonishment, and Hermione snorted a laugh.

‘Ron gave me a pep talk worth of Dumbledore,’ Hermione replied. ‘I did have a small nap in the bath with his supervision,’ she added, not quite realising she was nonchalantly confessing Ron had seen her naked, but Ron blushed and Harry and Ginny gave him knowing looks. ‘And afterwards I wasn’t so drowsy, so Ron gave me a good talk and I got my batteries back on. This is my year, Voldemort will not steal it from me and Bellatrix Lestrange can fuck off in Hell.’

Ginny chuckled, unused to Hermione’s filthy language.

‘There you go girl.’

Harry wondered how long would it be until Hermione needed to recharge again, but he soon understood, as the four strolled through King’s Cross Station, that she was in warrior mode, emergency mode, save the day mode, the mode one put when the Earth was crashing but one was set on survival. So long as it lasted her until she went to bed, it’d be okay.

Still, as they crossed through the column and into Platform Nine And Three Quarters, and became transfixed with the image of the old vapour train, Harry made a decision, and it was set in stone the moment he saw Hermione’s resolve tremble in her eyes as she stared at the train and then looked anxiously at her surroundings, her Head Girl pin on her cardigan’s chest.

‘Hey, Hermione,’ Harry dug into his jacket and pulled out the Marauder’s Map. ‘I was between giving it to Ginny and keep it to watch her name around, lamely enough,’ he admitted, making Hermione snort a laugh. Ginny and Ron watched curiously, everyone knowing what the parchment he held was without saying it. ‘But on second thought, I think you need it more than me, even if the passages out of the school have changed.’

‘Oh, no, Harry… thank you but I doubt I’ll be mischievous this year,’ said Hermione. ‘Head Girl and all, can’t be getting in trouble.’

‘It’s not for that. I discovered a ton of secret passages and private spots, for whenever I just wanted an alone moment or wanted to avoid someone or something, or have a faster route through secret passages. I figured that whenever someone or some place overwhelms you, you can use those. Since you’ve never known them, they shouldn’t trigger you, right?’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Harry… but it’s your Dad’s…’

‘And he understood about helping friends. You’ll take care of it for the year, you take better care of things than I do,’ Harry insisted. ‘Take it. And remember… Mischief Managed.’

Hermione smiled and took it, nodding and quickly shoving it in her robes, which she was quickly putting on, moving her Head Girl pin to them.

‘Thank you,’ Hermione hugged him tight.

‘Are you mad?’ Ginny turned to Harry. ‘She’s a Head Girl. She’ll be catching everyone breaking the rules in two seconds, you’ve ruined it for everybody else.’ She obviously wasn’t serious, just making them laugh.

‘Well I suppose Aurors should abide by the rules a little,’ said Harry. ‘Let’s get you ladies a good compartment.’

The four of them walked together to the train and Ginny and Hermione used their wands to lift their compartments into the train. As they got in, a First Year girl saw them and her eyes widened in astonishment, dropping the bag she’d been holding out of surprise as she recognised who they were.

‘Here,’ Hermione smiled, picking the bag up for her. ‘Hope to see you in Gryffindor!’

‘I swear they get a little smaller every year,’ said Ron as they walked in line through the busy and narrow corridor looking for an empty compartment.

‘It’s not their fault you seem to have giant DNA, Ron,’ Ginny joked, walking behind him with Harry in the end.

‘Hermione! Here!’

Neville’s voice got to them, and so Hermione guided them forward to the compartment their friend had peeked out of.

‘Hi, so nice to see you again!’ Neville and Hermione hugged.

‘And Ron and everyone! Hi,’ Neville went on to hug the others and walked them into the compartment, where they also greeted Luna.

‘We’re actually not staying, just accompanying the ladies to get sorted out,’ said Harry, helping Ginny put her trunk on the luggage rack.

‘In fact I should leave my stuff in your care, if you’re going to stay, and go to my duties,’ said Hermione after her things were on the rack as well. ‘And you should come too, Neville. I’ll introduce you to the other Prefects.’

‘That’s right, congrats mate,’ said Ron.

‘Yeah, Grandma has been bragging about it to every relative all summer,’ Neville grinned proudly. ‘You’re right Hermione, I’ll accompany you, I could use your expertise, I’ve got like a dozen questions.’

‘Why don’t we… go… say our goodbyes, first?’ Ron asked Hermione. ‘Bit cramped here.’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Actually,’ Ginny turned to Harry. ‘I’ll stay, got lots of catching up with Luna to do, and if I see you on Saturday…’

‘Absolutely,’ Harry smiled at her.

‘Then I’ll see you soon baby sis, be good,’ Ron gave her a quick hug and left the compartment with Hermione.

‘Good luck at the Ministry today,’ Ginny hugged Harry tight in the corridor just outside the compartment, while Ron and Hermione vacated the train. ‘Be a good boy, will you?’

‘I’ll try my best. You do everything I wouldn’t do, like, you know, staying out of trouble.’

‘I love you,’ Ginny kissed him softly.

‘Very much,’ added Harry, kissing her back. They snogged for a few moments before finally separating, begrudgingly. ‘See you in four days only.’

‘Four days.’ Ginny raised her thumbs in approval. ‘I’ll be writing tonight.’

‘You better,’ Harry opened the door for her and as Ginny sat down, he waved at Luna and Neville. ‘I’ll see you around Hogsmeade, have a nice first week.’

‘Thank you Harry!’ Luna smiled at him, waving goodbye.

Out of the train, Harry quickly spotted Hermione and Ron finishing what had been a good snog to then hug tightly. Harry hung back, ignoring the people who were turned to look at him and pointing fingers at him, and pretended to be highly interested in the platform’s clock, that was now marking ten to eleven in the morning. He and Ron had just enough time to bid goodbye to the girls, go for a quick lunch somewhere, and be at the Ministry for their first meeting with who could be their new boss soon. And even though Ginny, being seventeen, and Hermione, being nearly nineteen, could walk in and out of Hogwarts as they pleased, they had decided that they would only meet in Hogsmeade on Saturdays or Sundays, once a week or twice, if necessary, so that everyone could get used to being apart, and also because everyone was going to be busy, and couldn’t spend the entire weekend in Hogsmeade.

‘Harry,’ called Hermione, amused with his discretion, and opened her arms to get a hug, which Harry provided. ‘Take care of yourself, okay? And each other.’

‘Don’t worry about us, you know us, we always get through by some miracle,’ Harry reassured her. ‘You worry about being a merciless Head Girl, give them hell.’ He joked to make her laugh.

‘I’ll see you both soon,’ Hermione smiled tearfully, separating. ‘Gimme another…’ she pecked Ron’s lips quickly and squeezed his hand. ‘Okay. You two, write.’

‘We will,’ Harry and Ron promised in unison.

‘See you soon!’ Hermione waved and went back into the train, while the boys looked on, already missing their girlfriends.

‘Just a few days…’ murmured Ron. ‘Just a few days.’

‘Yeah, we’ll see them every week, it’s not a big deal,’ Harry glanced at the clock again. ‘Five minutes. Should we find their window?’

‘I’ll race you!’

Even after the train had disappeared, the steam remaining in the platform, Harry and Ron found their feet somewhat glued to the platform, aware that their times there were quite counted, until Ron nudged Harry, and they finally left before someone could ask for an autograph.

‘D’you think she’ll be all right? Hermione,’ asked Ron as the two of them had lunch at the Leaky Cauldron by Charing Cross and Diagon Alley bare minutes after having left King’s Cross.

‘She always manages in the end, you saw that,’ said Harry. ‘She just needs to see herself alone and face it, and she’ll find the inner flame only seeing yourself on your own makes you find. She’ll grow more out of this year than in six with us there.’

‘At least nobody will be locking her in a bathroom with a troll,’ Ron joked, and licked chicken off his fingers. ‘Ginny seemed all right. She’s wearing a new ring, but you two haven’t…’

‘No,’ reassured Harry, knowing what he was thinking. ‘It’s ah.. a Muggle thing, centuries old tradition really, but not everyone does it. Still, I thought it’d be nice, since she’s going to be away and all…’

‘What tradition?’

‘When you’re committed to someone, but not quite there to get married, you give them a promise ring, as a symbol of a verbal agreement between you, a verbal commitment. Ginny and I are serious, we want to be married some day, we love each other and even though we’ve barely been together a few months with the Horcrux hunt and all that, we’ve loved each other for over a year now,’ Harry was blushing heavily just by talking to Ron about that. ‘When I left last year, she entertained the possibility that I might meet someone else.’

‘Absurd.’

‘Yes. So this time, I wanted to come up with something good so she wouldn’t even think about it.’

‘Smart guy. You think I should…?’

‘You and Hermione? No.’

‘No?’

‘Ron, you’ve only started out with her, and she’s been away half summer,’ Harry pointed out. ‘Enjoy the slow ride, you know? Getting to know each other as partners, not as friends, the slow build of things… besides, Hermione grew up in the Muggle world. And no Muggle wants to even hear about getting married this early nowadays, you don’t want to scare her. We do those things later, you see?’

‘You don’t seem scared by discussing it with Ginny.’

‘That’s because Ginny’s my only actual family left. The day I marry her is the day I get to start an actual family I’m blood related to and that I don’t hate like the Dursleys.’

‘Ah,’ Ron nodded, understanding. ‘Makes sense…’

‘You make sure Hermione knows you love her and you care, that matters more than jewellery does. What’s a ring, if it’s not backed by actual actions?’

‘Right. Thanks mate.’

‘Anytime.’

As soon as they had eaten, Harry and Ron wasted no time to get to the Ministry of Magic. They were meeting the Head of the Auror Headquarters, a veteran Auror who had trained the likes of Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt or Nymphadora Tonks back in the day, and who had first retired over two decades previously, when he had become a father, and through part of that time he had been substituted by Moody, before he had returned to the job for a few years and then, retired again at around the time of Cedric Diggory’s death, to travel the world with his late wife, who was then terminally ill. Now he was on his own, Auror Caspian Blackheath was back to his old position, and Harry and Ron had heard enough about him from Kingsley, Arthur, Bill or Percy to be quite intimidated.

Caspian Blackheath was a man of action. He was now in his early sixties, and he had been an Auror since the moment he stepped out of Hogwarts at the tender age of seventeen, with Outstanding in all his N.E.W.T.s. He had achieved a record of excellency in his admission into the Aurors’s try-outs and tests, and had gone on to have a remarkable career and very quickly build himself a reputation for being rough, hardcore, fearless, and strong as an oak tree. It was no wonder that Moody had ended up the way he had been, with Blackheath as his mentor and leader. And now, he was meeting Harry and Ron in his office to see for himself what the duo was made of and what could he make of them if he admitted them as Aurors.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was in one of the top floors at the Ministry of Magic, and after all the changes Kingsley had made in the Ministry in the last few months, with elections set for the next summer, the Department now included both the Aurors and Hit Wizards, the Training Facilities, and the Improper Use of Magic Offices, the Magical Law Offices with its Muggle Liaison Body, the Magical Housing Office, the British Magical Trading Body, and finally, the Office Against the Misuse and Trafficking of Muggle and Magical Artefacts, of which Arthur Weasley was now the Head, with a team of five under his orders, a very nice promotion.

Harry and Ron walked together, wearing the robes that had once belonged to Ron’s twin uncles, both Aurors, who had been killed when Harry and Ron weren’t older than one, and crossed a room full of cubicles where the Aurors kept family photographs and maps with shiny red dots. The walls were also covered in all sorts of paraphernalia, and some Aurors gave the impression of being talking to themselves as they dictated reports to their quills or read out-loud long parchments. At last, they reached a dark brown door with a plate that indicated “C. R. BLACKHEATH, HEAD OF THE AUROR HEADQUARTERS ”.

Ron lifted a tentative fist and knocked on the door, which opened on its own a moment later. They barely had time to see the small, round room with its high bookshelves and strange utensils when they were spoken to by a slightly aged man sitting at a wide, dark brown, wooden desk and wearing short black robes for duellers.

“You must be Weasley and Potter,’ said the deep, baritone voice of Blackheath, and they turned to him as he stood up. He was tall, quite wide, and so fit and squared with muscle that his skin barely looked crinkled. He had wavy, medium-long grey hair with white streaks, thick, ruffled eyebrows over dark brown eyes, pale skin, and a grey-white goatee that grew slightly long at the bottom. ‘Caspian Blackheath, it’s a pleasure,’ he offered them a hand.

‘It’s an honour, Sir,’ Ron shook his head, intimidated.

‘Yes, we’ve heard so much about you,’ added Harry, also shaking his hand. ‘Our friend Moody trained with you.’

‘Ah, yes, Alastor… tragic, what happened to him,’ Blackheath nodded, serious. ‘You get used to losing friends when you work in this. Come in, sit down.’ He returned to his seat and Harry and Ron took chairs across his desk. ‘Weasley… you have a rather long nose, reminds me of some Aurors we had here. Even your robes remind me of them…’ he frowned in deep thought.

‘Yes, my uncles worked here. Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Sir,’ said Ron, blushing.

‘I see,’ Blackheath nodded. ‘Brilliant Aurors, those two. Unfortunately lasted very little here, I barely got to met them before I took a sabbatical and next thing I heard… horrible, isn’t it? But it took five Death Eaters to get them, you surely must know. Those weren’t Aurors that could easily be beaten, five seconds with them was enough to know that.’

‘Thanks,’ it was the first time Ron had been recognised at the Ministry as the relative to someone who was then complimented, since the Weasleys were usually considered traitors of blood by Pureblood conservatives due to their friendship with muggles.

‘Now, of course, you two have grown a fame that precedes you much like it preceded them,’ continued Blackheath. ‘You’ll realise that one of the downsides of reputation is that people get twice as disappointed if you don’t live up to it.’

‘We’ll do our best not to disappoint, Sir,’ said Harry. ‘We’re great duellists, and we can both apparate and do some advanced magic, like Patronuses. Minister Shacklebolt ensured our licenses to apparate would be in order.’

‘Indeed,’ Blackheath nodded. ‘I will be watching you two through a magnifying glass. I suppose the Minister has informed you that we’re very short on Aurors at the moment, we’ve been taking beginners all summer. Never have these Headquarters and the Hit Wizards Headquarters across the hall taken as many newbies in one year. Or in several years. Makes things a little chaotic, we have more students than professors… but it is necessary. And now we have an Auror as a leader in this Ministry, a competent, skilled wizard I myself trained, and someone with his head over his shoulders and prepared for these rough times, we can at last trust him to do what’s right by us. So when Kingsley Shacklebolt tells me I will not regret admitting you in, I take his word letter by letter.’

‘We know what we aren’t good at, but fighting is not a problem. Potions, that’s another story,’ Ron admitted, and Blackheath snorted a laugh, amused.

‘Sincere, I like that. I’m the last person either of you will want to be hiding information from, I know everything, sooner and later. I have your O.W.L.s here,’ Kingsley held up a couple papers from his desk, glancing at them. ‘I see Divination and History of Magic are both lost causes with you two.’

‘That’s not a problem, isn’t it?’ asked Ron, unsure.

‘I don’t care much about Divination, but these days you’d do good to be at least Acceptable in History of Magic. But I am not surprised, is that old ghost of Binns still teaching?’

‘Yes Sir,’ they both replied at unison.

‘I see. Perhaps I should pass Headmistress McGonagall a note that it might be time to get a professor with blood in their veins, I haven’t had an Auror come in here with respectable History grades in ages,’ Blackheath looked amused. ‘And you see, History has a way of repeating itself, which is why it’s important to know it. I’ll be giving you reading material on the subject and I expect you to not just read what I provide, but know it well.’

‘Of course,’ Harry nodded.

‘What else…’ Blackheath glanced at the papers again. ‘Pretty decent Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures, not like they’re too important here… we can always call other officials with more expertise. Exceeds the Expectations in Charms, well, we’ll get those to Outstanding N.E.W.T. level, shouldn’t we? Some hardcore training… yes, I know just the person to help,’ Blackheath seemed to now be mostly talking to himself. ‘DADA, very important… I see you got Outstanding Mr Potter, doesn’t surprise me if you were already teaching students, for what I heard. And an E for Mr Weasley. I’ll want those to get Outstanding, N.E.W.T. level, but I don’t think it’ll be hard for you. Same with Transfigurations and Potions. Back in the day, I’d settle with an E in the N.E.W.T. level, but these days we need to be the best at everything, it’s a matter of life or death sometimes, and I can’t lose more Aurors. We’re paying the price for having been a little lax in other times. And you’ll be fine with an E in Herbology… N.E.W.T. level.’

‘Sir, how do we get to N.E.W.T. level?’ Ron inquired nervously.

‘You will start by training with the Aurors from next Monday onwards, you need to get better at DADA, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions and Charms, so you will have one day of each, ten hours studying in our generous library and learning from some of our best Aurors experts in such topics, and the last two hours of your twelve hour shifts will be spent with veterans providing support and assistance in missions. Your sixth day of work will be split in half. Six hours will go to physical training and six to support and assistance in missions. During support and assistance in missions, you will learn as you go, on your feet, accompanying and obeying Aurors more knowledgeable than you. You will have a day off a week, but it’ll change every week, so sometimes you might find yourselves working eight or nine days in a row before you get a break, you will need stamina, that’s why it’s important to keep your physical training up and a proper healthy diet, things I expect you taking care of even outside the Ministry on your own. Your instructions will also change depending on availability, and it will be up to them to decide whether you need extra hours of work on your day off, with a limit of four extra hours per week.’

Harry and Ron exchanged stunned expressions. They were really going to be working hard as hell, from then on, but this was an incredible opportunity for them.

‘Will we also have to do the character and attitude tests as well, Sir?’ asked Harry. ‘The regular ones Aurors have always had, we’ve heard about them.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Casper Blackheath nodded, his large hand moving to play with his long chin hairs. ‘Normally, you’d have three years studying Concealment and Disguise, Stealth and Tracking, and Poisons and Antidotes. You would spend days in the training rooms, have much more training on the job, have training duels, attend lectures and seminars ministered by our best veterans, and spend months studying magical jurisprudence. In short, you would become the best of the elite of British wizards, capable of alter people’s memories if caught doing magic by a Muggle, of spending days in the Arctic doing rounds, pursue criminals through swamps across the world, and win duels against the best of Death Eaters…’

‘But you don’t have three years,’ said Harry.

‘Exactly. Which doesn’t mean you’re slacking, it means you have to do three years’ worth of hard work in one. Your experience hunting Horcruxes only commutes for a portion of Auror training, but you still have no idea about Poisons and Antidotes, Concealment and Disguise… and your Stealth and Tracking has a lot of room for improvement. You don’t know our laws, you have little experience duelling dark wizards and witches, you don’t know the first thing about how to investigate and carry on a criminal case, gather clues, respect the law, and do things not the way you want to, but the way our policies mark. You’ll have to learn a lot of discipline and to stick by our way of working, and here, we can’t afford to just follow our hearts and be too passionate and impulsive, we cannot go rogue, we have to abide by the rules very strictly, or else, the criminals we arrest will end up proving we did something illegal in their trials and get away with crimes, all because some Auror didn’t bother to learn the right way. Remember our job gets judged on trial with the people we arrest.’

‘Then how are we going to learn all that stuff?’ Ron asked, beginning to feel anxious.

‘A lot of it will be on the job, you’ll have to be very observant, equipped with good memories, pay close attention to the veterans. They have been given strict orders to be vocal and become trainers and teachers, answering all your questions, and giving you step-by-step guidance and explanations because they know how important it is to get you ready by yesterday. They will explain why they do things, legal grounds, etc. Your day of physical training will also often have breaks composed by lectures and seminars on law and other interesting topics, and in the rest of the days of the week we’ll squeeze some things exclusive of being an Auror like… when you’re in Transfiguration they’ll teach you Concealment and Disguise, when you’re in Potions they’ll insist on Antidotes and Poisons… that kind of thing. You’re here because we believe you’ve got what it takes to learn fast and efficiently, and you’ve got brains and skills we can do something great with. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, I don’t care what merits you’ve got.’

‘We’ll do our absolute best,’ said Harry with a nod.

‘Yeah, we learn fast. We’re good.’

‘Excellent. Let me go get your contracts, schedules, and timetables. Usually we give different schedules and timetables every month or every couple of months, they include your night shifts, which you will also gradually start doing, plus raids, guard rounds, surveillances, trainings, lectures… whenever you are sick or otherwise unable to come, and it better be a serious reason, you must inform both me and my boss, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Miss Aria Strike. You inform us both always, because either of us could be on a mission are unable to get the message,’ explained Blackheath, ‘and you must keep in mind that we live in exceptional times, so until things calm down, you must be prepared to receive a call at any time of the day or night and just have to drop whatever you’re doing and fly here. Come tomorrow, there’s a meeting about the current state of affairs that’s very important, even if your first official day is Monday.’

He got up and left the office to get the contracts. Harry and Ron looked nervously at each other.

‘We’re hardly going to be able to go to Hogsmeade, are we?’ lamented Ron.

‘We should prepare Ginny and Hermione on Saturday…’

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: The Otter.

When Blackheath came back with the contracts, he guided them through the clauses, that included them accepting accountability for the possibility of being irreversibly injured on the job and even killed, between other things, and also informed them on their salary.

‘Lucky for you, Kingsley has reduced the big fat salaries of the big bosses like him in favour of equalising salaries between all employees a little, so that the differences between working in a low position and a higher one become slightly less drastic and as to compensate and help everyone re-built their lives and care for their families after all that’s happened,’ said Blackheath, sitting down. ‘Which means your salaries have improved. You’ll make 2 Galleons, 6 Sickles and 27 Knuts per hour now that you’re technically studying and training more than actually working, which is quite generous if you ask me, plus 4 Galleons per extra hours when they’re spent in actual field work. Extra hours of education and training are not paid because you’ll only have them if you’re not being good enough, which is entirely on you. That will amount for about 144 Galleons, 9 Sickles, and 24 Knuts per week at the bare minimum.’

‘That’s mad!’ Ron’s mouth gaped open. ‘I’ve never even owned a Galleon before, and you’re telling me that by the end of next week I’ll have 144? I mean I don’t do it for the money,’ he retracted quickly. ‘But it’s nice. Mum will be pleased.’

Blackheath smirked, nodding.

‘That’s the right attitude son. All right,’ he made two quills and ink appear out of nowhere and handed them over. ‘Make sure to sign nicely. We’ll go get your photo IDs then.’

It was the first time Harry and Ron signed a document ever. They signed it, and Blackheath took them to another room where they had an ID photo taken each, and in a minute, by magic, an ID card was made for each with their photo, name, position and department.

‘What are these for?’ asked Ron turning to Blackheath once he gave them their brand new ID cards.

‘For using the employee cabins to enter the Ministry, for taking material out of our libraries and files, for identifying suspicious activity… for example if you see someone acting odd in the Ministry you can demand they show their card, if they don’t have one, likely they’re an intruder,’ explained Blackheath. ‘You’ll also have to show them for using Ministry facilities and resources like our Post Office, or to identify yourself when other Aurors outside ask, since here it’s easy to assume we’re all Aurors, but out there it can get trickier. Always carry it with yourselves, but not in a very visible spot. If you die on a mission and we can find it within your robes, it’ll make it easier to identify you. It’s not always evident.’

‘He’s got a dark sense of humour, doesn’t he?’ they were walking through Diagon Alley on their way back home, and Ron had just voiced his comment to Harry.

‘I suppose you have to, in this job. Let’s not tell anyone,’ Harry proposed.

‘Agreed. Otherwise Mum will think I’m going to die.’

Their first news from Hermione and Ginny came first thing in the morning, when two Hogwarts owls appeared just as Harry and Ron were getting up at 12 Grimmauld Place, were they had decided to live from September on. It would be helpful with their new jobs, as they could walk in and out at any hour of the day and night and not disturb anyone else with their crazy schedules, and they had more space to train around the house. They read them as they had breakfast, one from each girl, and found out that the train trip had gone well, that they had two new professors (Keena Terrwyn for Defence Against the Dark Arts and new Head of the Gryffindor House, and a metamorphomagus, Arawn Alberich, for Transfiguration), and that everything looked ready for the best year at Hogwarts so far.

When they arrived at the Ministry to learn about the current situation of security and the Wizarding Britain, Ron and Harry found that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was bigger than they had realised, and were nearly late as they ran though the corridors until they found the large meetings room where the briefing was taking place. All the Aurors and Hit Wizards, wearing a variety of robes, cloaks and pointy hats, were crowded around the front of the room, where Blackheath and a tall black woman who had to be Aria Strike were standing, looking serious. Harry and Ron slithered between the multitude and found a spot near the front from where they could both listen and have a clear view.

‘Today is a key day in our timeline,’ said the Head of the Department, with her arms crossed over her chest showing her many extraordinary rings in her long fingers. ‘Today marks six months since the Battle of Hogwarts and the death of Lord Voldemort, which means, it is a good moment to look back and evaluate our work in order to plan for the next six months ahead of us.’

A woman that reminded Harry of the Muggle Lucy Liu had suddenly joined Blackheath, and from her seriousness and the Hawk-eyes with which she was looking around, Harry knew instantly, without a shade of a doubt, that she had to be the Head of the Hit Wizards. She instantly made him feel, without even looking at him, like a schoolboy who had done something wrong, even though he hadn’t done anything inappropriate. But Strike had paid no attention to the new arrival, and continued to speak normally.

‘We have finally managed to imprison or kill eighty percent of the surviving Dark Wizards and Witches who participated at the Battle of Hogwarts, or otherwise showed allegiance to Voldemort at any point of his criminal career. As for the remaining twenty percent,’ Strike went on, ‘we have sufficient evidence to believe they are no longer within our continent, but we will still keep working to determine whether they remain alive and in hiding or not, and to arrest them at the first chance. For this task, we’re collaborating with international forces through the International Confederation of Wizards.’

A witch raised her hand and Strike nodded towards her to indicate she could talk.

‘Ma’am, does that mean we should be prepared to be deployed abroad any time?’

‘Only Hit Wizards and Witches with at least five years of experience on the job will be deployed abroad, due to our lack of sufficient Auror forces, that need to focus in the country. Those Hit Wizards and Witches will need to be prepared to be deployed at any time, yes. It will be the Head of the Hit Wizards Headquarters, Miss Hyori Haywood will make sure to let those affected with enough time in advance.’

‘Korean-British,’ Ron whispered to Harry. ‘We don’t get many of those here.’

‘Now, for the past few months Aurors and Hit Wizards have been working more closely together than ever before,’ said Strike. ‘This is not going to change. You will collaborate and work alongside all the other security forces of our country, including a variety of guards here and there, and you will be asked to work together and care for each other like siblings would. We need as many of you as we can get, and that means your safety is each other’s mutual concern. Do not forget that. You will now accompany your respective boss to get an additional briefing exclusive to your position.’

‘Let’s go!’ roared Blackheath, and there was a murmur as the Aurors left the room, following the large man out of the room and back to the Auror Headquarters. There, he stopped at the large room full of cubicles with desks, but nobody went to their desk to sit down, rather, they scattered to listen. ‘Now that the danger has been significantly reduced and we’ve kicked most of that scum out of this country, it’s still not time to lower the guard, but to start paying attention to those things we couldn’t take care of six months ago. Therefore,’ he raised his hand and a long roll of parchment appeared in it, and opened up, ‘we’re re-establishing the Missing Persons Unit. This Unit will investigate the long list of missing people we still have, until you can either figure out who they are or whether they were murdered and dumped somewhere. One of our veterans, Cormoran Herbert, will lead the unit, and you report to me,’ a younger, stocky and extremely short-haired wizard walked forwards and received the parchment. ‘Now I want you all back to work!’

Blackheath returned into his office and Herbert began to read names off the parchment. Harry and Ron were surprised to find themselves in that list, so along with a very small group of five others, they remained behind with Herbert while everyone else returned to their desks or left the office, depending on their tasks.

‘All of you will find a folder with a Missing Person’s case on your desk. That is your sole responsibility, you will get another when I say so. Those of you who have experience of at least a year will work alone. Those of you who don’t, will work assisting the case of someone who does. That means Weasley, you start on Saturday next week assisting me, and Potter, same thing, but you’re with Emma Hampton. Get to work everyone.’

Harry and Ron turned to each other, but before any of them said anything, a young witch with long blonde hair and blue eyes walked over to them.

‘Emma Hampton,’ she said, shaking their hands, and eyed Harry. ‘Looking forward to next week.’

She walked back to her desk and Harry and Ron looked to each other again.

‘Let’s go, then,’ said Harry. ‘If we’re on Missing Persons, we better try and get ahead on our study material…’

Blackheath had given them plenty to study. Lists of Ministry employees, legal books, study material for their lectures the next week, History of Magic books… all sorts. They could take a lot of the material from the Ministry library, which was the second biggest library they had ever seen, only after Hogwarts’s, and a dream come true for people like Hermione.

Knowing how much preparation they had yet to do and not wanting for any veteran Auror to have to babysit them, Harry and Ron hurried to the library, grabbed their mountains of study material, and sat down at a large wooden table, quill in hand, to try and hammer as much information as possible into their brains.

‘This is like the N.E.W.T.s I thought we’d avoided…’ Ron lamented.

‘Worse. If we fail in this, we either die or get someone killed.’

Between one thing and another, they were so busy they barely passed by The Burrow all week, and by the time Sunday at Hogsmeade came, both Harry and Ron had bags under their eyes and looked to be in serious need of a Butterbeer.

The two Apparated outside of Hogwarts, near the fence that remained open to allow students in and out during the day, under the sun of a fresh September morning, less than two weeks before Hermione’s next birthday. It was a miracle that it wasn’t rainy, and not even too cold, so that both men wore casual clothes, and they had even shaven just to look like they made an effort for their girlfriends.

‘Do you think we could just walk in?’ Ron wondered out-loud while they saw a group of students leave for Hogsmeade, not without glancing at them repeatedly, trying to discern whether they were in fact Potter and Weasley.

‘No. I’m sure it’s one of those occasions when something in Hogwarts looks perfectly inoffensive and vulnerable only to kick your arse later, let’s not forget where we are,’ opined Harry with amusement.

Soon enough, Ginny and Hermione appeared, smiling up at them as they marched together down the gravel path out of Hogwarts. As soon as they had passed the fence, Ginny jumped on Harry’s arms, laughing and kissing him cheerfully, and Hermione walked to Ron and happily buried herself in his arms.

‘I take you missed us?’ said Ron pressing his lips against the top of Hermione’s head.

‘Infinitely,’ replied Hermione. ‘Let’s go grab a good table at The Three Broomsticks, before they’re all taken.’

Hand-in-hand, both couples strolled down the hill for a long while, until at last they walked around a large oak tree, and saw themselves in Hogsmeade Village. The High Street would normally be busy with students, but because this wasn’t an official Hogwarts visit, but rather an extraordinary outing for the students that were at least seventeen, it wasn’t too crowded. The four of them passed in front of Zonko’s and around the corner to The Three Broomsticks , the inn and pub managed by Madam Rosmerta, a gorgeous and talented witch who was normally very warm to her clients, but could show the coldest treatment to those who deserved it.

Ron found them a nice table a little tucked away from the public, so that they could have some semblance of privacy, and Harry and Ginny got their Butterbeers, joining them a moment later. For the first few minutes, it was all about catching up on what they had missed of each other’s lives. Hermione and Ginny told them about their new teachers, their classes, Quidditch, and updates on their friends, whereas Harry and Ron were mostly all about the Ministry.

‘So it turns out we’re not going to have much of a break then,’ said Ginny after they’d been listening to the boys. ‘Will we even see you next week?’

‘That remains to be seen,’ admitted Ron. ‘Reckon it’ll be last minute. We have so much to study.’

‘Well I’m glad they’re preparing you properly,’ said Hermione. ‘That way you’ll be able to do your job so much better.’

‘Speaking of working better,’ said Harry, and raised an eyebrow towards Hermione in front of him. ‘What’s with your panic attacks then?’

‘Better, actually. First two, three days, not so good, but the Map helped a lot. Whenever I’m getting worked up I get the fastest route out and turns out, the countryside helps,’ said Hermione. ‘And McGonagall authorised my therapist to come over once a week, which is brilliant. But hear this, Professor Terrwyn is starting our N.E.W.T. year with the Patronus Charm. When she realised two thirds of the Seventh Years already know it because of DA, she was speechless,’ she added full of amusement. ‘And since DA is continuing its activities, she’s in for a surprise.’

‘Hold on, Dumbledore’s Army is still at it?’ asked Harry, incredulous. ‘But why? We discontinued it after we got rid of Umbridge.’

‘And Neville, Luna and I restarted it last year,’ added Ginny. ‘So now we reunited with Hermione and we asked ourselves, is this something that might still be useful? That we might still want to do? And we thought, well, it useful. We can’t deny that in spite of the mortality statistics of the war, Dumbledore’s Army only lost Lavender and Colin, which means the stuff we learnt saved our lives, and we don’t know if we’re done with those types of situations.’

‘Exactly. So we’re going to continue, first meeting is next month. Neville and Ginny have volunteered to split the teaching,’ said Hermione. ‘It’s going to be great, we’ll get to practise what we learn in class, and now that we’re not a secret any more, we don’t have to worry about hiding and dozens more have contacted us to join. Besides, this year we have double population of First Year students, since it’s the actual newbies plus those who are repeating their last year, so that’s many more inexperienced kids who can use the out of the classroom extra experience.’

‘Sounds cool to me,’ said Ron with a hand around his glass, turning to Hermione. ‘But why aren’t you teaching? You’re the smartest witch in DA, you’d be a brilliant teacher.’

‘That’s what I said,’ said Ginny, while Hermione blushed. ‘But there was no way of convincing her, which is why I volunteered even though I’m quite up to my eyeballs with Quidditch.’

‘And I have the N.E.W.T.s!’

‘And so does Neville,’ argued Ginny. ‘But you’re the kind of people who thrive in multitasking, and Neville is only taking three N.E.W.T.s, he’s got plenty of time off. You’re only refusing because of your insecurity with the way your magic skills haven’t quite been brilliant lately, but that’s precisely what will get them back up.’

‘Ginny I can’t teach if I can’t do the stuff I intend to teach,’ insisted Hermione.

‘People respect you Hermione, all they need is some guidance, not for you to show off. And if you try to show something and it doesn’t turn out well… good moment to explain trauma affects our skills, teach them that, you know? If they try to mock you they’ll have to face Neville, Luna and myself.’

‘Yeah,’ Ron nodded. ‘Ginny’s right. Come on Hermione, you’re a leader now, act like that and the rest will follow. Besides, if your feelings got you into this mess, then, don’t you want to do things that make you feel good so that you can do magic perfectly well again?’

Hermione looked at odds between the Weasleys, sipping her ginger-spiced butterbeer, and then her eyes landed on Harry, the first leader of Dumbledore’s Army, and the person who had traditionally led them throughout the war and the battle.

‘Well everybody’s changed, isn’t it?’ Harry commented. ‘Neville has gone from embarrassing himself and being unable to stand up for himself to being a respected, admired, strong leader. Luna’s turned into some kind of warrior, after all she went through at Malfoy Manor too. Ginny was the girl who got possessed by a Horcrux and now is a future professional Quidditch player and a key member of DA. Ron and I, two of Hogwarts’ biggest rule-breakers in history, are now Ministry officials investigating missing persons and studying and enforcing the law. What are you going to do, Hermione?’

‘I’m doing a lot,’ she said defensively.

‘You’re doing a lot to build your curriculum up, to be able to have a good job and afford a home for yourself when you get out of Hogwarts,’ said Harry. ‘But you’re an absolute mess. First you couldn’t sleep, then you can sleep but you cannot do advanced or complex magic, you get panic attacks just from thinking of coming to Hogwarts, you’re saying you still have some tough times at the castle hence the Map to get away when something becomes triggering… and I’m all in for you… taking your time. If what you need now is to hide for a bit fine, that’s what I gave you the Map for. But it’s been six months, you’ve got to do something to get better, something more than therapy, apparently. All of us, even Luna and Neville, came out stronger from the traumatic experiences we faced, and we think you are stronger, you’re just… I don’t know. Not showing what you got, I suppose. And I don’t know what you’re still afraid of, if it’s failure as always or something else, but I would’ve thought that if you’re given the chance to lead others, to take Dumbledore’s Army which you came up with, and be a teacher there, building your confidence and skills back up in a controlled environment, that you’d take it. It worries me that you’re so afraid you won’t even try that.’

‘I’ll still be there, working my butt off,’ argued Hermione. ‘I won’t be hiding anywhere. And I do enough leader stuff as a Head Girl, I don’t need to be anyone’s teacher.’

‘But you’ve got experiences nobody else has,’ insisted Ron. ‘Useful stuff to teach, life-saving stuff, look how much Harry and I learned from you, and how much better wizards we are for it. And if you just gather your courage and step out there, start teaching them, surely you’ll suddenly discover you’re a brilliant teacher, it’ll give you more confidence and it will turn you into a better witch, right? It did with Harry.’

‘Look, it’s brilliant that you all know better than anyone else what’s best for me and what I need to do,’ said Hermione full of sarcasm. ‘It’s brilliant you don’t think I’ve already thought of all the pros and cons and tried to do my best. It’s brilliant you don’t think I’m doing enough. I know I am slacking. I know I am disap—,’

‘No, Hermione, come on…’ tried to argue Ron.

‘No Ron it’s true,’ Hermione snorted a dark laugh. ‘You’re all trying tough love as if that’s the way to make it work. You think that if a child is too scared to get in a swimming pool, grabbing them and shoving them into the pool will get them to finally swim successfully, and you all think that because it is how it works with you. Harry was shoved into dangerous situations so often he now finds them almost normal, you hate spiders but after you were shoved into a forest full of them, now only the big ones really freak you out, and Ginny… you were possessed by Voldemort which is scary as hell so everything else pales in comparison. And now you’ve all lost family to Voldemort so you’re no longer as afraid as you were of losing someone you love because once it’s happened and you’ve survived, it’s slightly easier, isn’t it?’

‘Usually facing your fears makes them go away,’ said Harry matter-of-fact. ‘Rather than let them control your life forever…’

‘Except that it’s not so easy, Harry. Because at the end of the day, all of you can pretend all you want, but you will always be terrified of something happening to someone you love. That is your biggest fear. So you two join the Ministry to see for yourselves those monsters being put away so you can sleep calm, and you,’ she turned to Ginny, ‘focus on taking care of me, as if I need taken care of, as if I won’t notice what you’re doing, because the more you focus on someone else the more you can ignore your own crap.’

‘My own crap?’ Ginny frowned.

‘Ginny hasn’t gotten over you turning yourself in,’ Hermione snapped towards Harry. ‘She acts like everything’s fine but she wakes up startled every night because she dreamed you were dead. She doesn’t tell anyone and it’s not so bad that she won’t sleep at night, but I am not so stupid I wouldn’t see what’s going on. And every morning she practically yanks The Daily Prophet out of the owl’s leg just to make sure you haven’t gotten yourself killed, even though you haven’t even officially started the real work yet.’

‘Gin—,’ Harry began, turning to Ginny next to him, but Hermione wasn’t over, her eyes shining with outrage.

‘My point is you’re all ones to talk, you barely have it together you’re just better actors than I am!’ continued Hermione. ‘And not everyone needs to be pushed into the pool, you know? Some of us have barely been swimming for years and we don’t need extra roughness, thank you very much. Now, it was lovely seeing you but I’ve got things to go.’ She stood up but Ron blocked her exit putting both arms and legs around her so that she flopped back to her chair, losing balance.

‘Not so fast,’ said Ron, serious. ‘We said no more running away, didn’t we? I thought I’d be the last to make such mistake.’

‘I’m not running away. I’m busy,’ retorted Hermione.

‘You are angry because we pushed too far,’ said Ron softly with his hands on her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry we tried the tough love route, but we’re done with it now. So I’m going to give you a hug.’

‘Ron, I—,’ Hermione sighed deeply as Ron wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in for a tight hug, his knees outside Hermione’s. ‘Can’t I just get a little pissed off? Once?’ Hermione asked rhetorically, her lips already threatening to smile.

‘Nope,’ Ron kissed her cheek, but remained hugging her. ‘Hug me back.’

‘Fine,’ Hermione pretended to be reluctant, but she was smiling as she hid her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Harry turned to Ginny, who was looking at her beer in an attempt to give her brother and her friend some privacy. But Harry was still thinking of what Hermione had said.

‘Is that true?’ he murmured, not wanting to elevate his voice enough to break Hermione and Ron’s moment. ‘Does my job torment you already?’

‘Torment is a bit of a strong word…’

‘Ginny…’

‘Listen, how would I ever be in love with you and not worry about your well-being when you are both Harry Potter and an Auror? It’s only normal.’

‘But you should’ve told me. I would’ve wanted to know you were having a rough time, I would’ve visited sooner, I would’ve… I don’t know…’

‘You would’ve blamed yourself and felt bad and powerless, that’s what you do,’ replied Ginny, also in a low voice. ‘And that doesn’t help anyone.’

Harry sighed, but right as he opened his mouth, the sound of Hermione and Ron making out made them both turn around right on time to see Ron’s tongue peeking into Hermione’s mouth as her eyelashes stroked his face, them both kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

‘I’m sorry should we leave you alone?’ Ginny asked, and when they ignored her, she patted the table. ‘Oi! We’re in public!’

The couple abruptly separated, blushing hard.

‘Sorry,’ Hermione murmured, rubbing saliva out of her lips with her sleeve. Ron cleared his throat, his ears red and feeling hot.

‘Should we go to see Zonko’s or Honeydukes? It’s been a while,’ he proposed, and the four got up, happy to go get some candy, fresh air, and a change of conversation.

The foursome explored the popular joke shop for a while before moving onto the sweets shop and acquiring a fair amount of delicious treats, and then they strolled past the High Street, chatting away as they descended a small hill down a narrow street, and arrived to a small stone bridge that crossed over a stream. They walked through it, up a hill by some woods, and soon enough, they could see the Shrieking Shack in the horizon, and stopped talking, wistfully staring at the old house.

‘What do you think they’ll do with it now?’ Ginny asked after a minute of silence.

‘Leave it go to waste,’ replied Harry. ‘Are the secret passages unblocked now?’

‘Yes,’ replied Hermione, to their surprise. She looked rather shy, looking at her feet. ‘I’ve been using the Shrieking Shack to practise advanced N.E.W.T. spells and charms, and some beyond N.E.W.T. level. Harry gave me the Map, so I checked… and it appears McGonagall is fine with the passages existing, or that Hogwarts magically restored them, just like it created the one to The Hog’s Head. They all work.’

‘Hermione Jean Granger,’ Ron looked at her full of amusement. ‘Have you been sneaking out, Miss Head Girl?’

‘I’m allowed to leave the castle almost whenever I want, I’m nearly nineteen, I’m one of the oldest students in the entire school,’ said Hermione. ‘No one said I had to use the main entrance.’

Hogwarts’ main entrance at the tall fences that guarded the school had a magical age line in the inside side, so that only wizards and witches older than seventeen could actually reach the door on their own, without a Professor to lift the charm for them. And the door remained locked at all times, but did get unlocked by Hagrid for an hour in the afternoon and another in the evening, or, in the case of the weekends, morning as well, for the older students to come and go, as other magical spells and enchantments kept the entrance secure not allowing strangers in. Therefore, Hermione could really come and go as she pleased without needing secret passages.

‘But why the secrecy?’ asked Ginny. ‘You can practise at Hogwarts, it’s good that you do that.’

‘Because I don’t want anyone to witness how bad I’ve gotten,’ replied Hermione with embarrassment. ‘People expect me to be a great witch, and in the classroom I can always pretend whatever magic is new, but if someone catches me practising and failing… I’ll be the joke of the school. Which is why I know I can’t teach at Dumbledore’s Army. You think I can’t do advanced magic, period. Well… it’s more than that. There are very few spells now that I can successfully do, and even the flames in jars… they were supposed to be bigger and stronger, and I didn’t manage to make them all summer, so I pretended that’s the way I wanted them. I’m turning into a Squib and if people find out… someone will leak it to the press, now that we’re popular and all that.’

‘Hermione, for a witch so smart you surely don’t always show it, uh?’ Ron gently wrapped an arm around her. ‘You can’t turn into a Squib. You know that. What’s happening to you is just like it happened to Cho after Cedric’s death, or to Tonks… even Mum had some trouble with magic over the summer, I saw it. And George. It just happens sometimes, when a blow is big, and it’ll pass.’

‘What if it doesn’t? It’s been six months,’ Hermione sighed, looking sadly at them. ‘Therapy doesn’t improve things. Sleeping doesn’t improve things. And I keep trying and trying, I practise for hours when I’m supposed to be on rounds as a prefect, and nothing I do seems to improve things. So what if it never improves?’

‘What does the library say?’ asked Ron.

‘Tons of things, and I’ve already tried them all in one week,’ replied Hermione. ‘Even potions that supposedly make your magic stronger. But of course, if my magic sucks I might even suck at making potions now.’

‘Have you tried McGonagall? Slughorn? Pomfrey?’ inquired Harry, and Hermione shook her head. ‘Why not? They’d understand, they’d love to help you.’

‘Because it’s humiliating, Harry. When you’re me people expect you to be the star student, excellent at all times, and when you’re not, it’s disappointing and shocking for others, so I don’t want them to know. I’d rather they keep thinking I’m cool for a bit, until it becomes obvious in class I’m not, and it’ll take a few days still… now they can still think I’m rusty from the summer or whatever.’

‘Can’t be that bad. Come on, let’s see it,’ said Harry. ‘Try something.’

‘Like what?’ asked Hermione, looking hopeless already.

‘The Patronus Charm,’ proposed Harry. ‘That’s your worst one isn’t it? Then try it.’

Hermione pulled her wand out and, insecure, glanced at Ron, who nodded in encouragement. Hermione pointed the wand towards the trees and steadied herself before swiftly moving her wand.

‘Expecto Patronum,’ she tried, but nothing happened.

‘Are you focused?’ asked Ron, frowning, and Hermione gave him an aggressive look. ‘Okay, okay…’

‘Try… hold yourself straighter,’ said Harry, trying to channel his old internal teacher like he’d managed for DA.

‘Straighter?’

‘Yes, you know… less like you’ve got a ton of literal baggage on your shoulders and more dignified,’ said Harry. ‘Head held high, and hold your wand tighter.’

‘Like this?’ Hermione adjusted her posture, feeling like an alien a little.

‘Hold your wand like it’s an extension of your arm, not like it’s some foreign object, like a splinter.’

‘This?’

‘You tell me. Feel it. Close your eyes, feel it, is it right?’ Hermione closed her eyes and for a moment didn’t move, but then she adjusted her posture a little more, rolled her head a little, and seemed to hold her wand differently. ‘Now,’ said Harry, watching her, ‘think of a truly happy memory, you must have plenty to choose from nowadays. Keep your eyes closed, just think of it. Try to feel all that happiness. All that cheerfulness and joy… like you’re having a laugh doing magic, like we did when we were kids. Relax, don’t stress about it just… get happy. You can think of sex if you want,’ he added, attempting to draw her an actual smile.

It worked, but it also threw Hermione off focus, making her turn to him and raise an eyebrow.

‘Ron and I haven’t had sex, all right? Ron was in the bathroom while I bathed, yes, but he had his eyes closed like the gentleman he is.’

‘That’s right,’ Ron nodded, red in the face.

‘Admirable,’ Harry chuckled. ‘Come on, don’t lose focus. Try. When you’re ready.’

Hermione got back into it and took a deep breath before moving her wand with a bit more precision and energy.

‘Expectro Patronum!’ a timid spark of something white-ish left the wand, but that was it. Hermione opened an eye tentatively and then puffed with frustration. ‘It’s useless Harry, it’s fine…’

‘No, no, that was better,’ encouraged Harry. ‘Come on if I could get Neville to master Expelliarmus you surely can do this.’

‘It’s my worst spell, always has been!’

‘Time to change it then, isn’t it? What memory are you using?’

‘Ron and I’s first kiss!’ said Hermione. ‘Should be making a bloody brilliant Patronus!’

‘No that’s rubbish,’ argued Harry.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Hermione, your first kiss with Ron happened in the middle of a war, while afraid for your bloody lives, doesn’t matter how happy you were, that wasn’t the overwhelming emotion,’ explained Harry. ‘It was to be something brilliant. You need to like… feel a passionate urge to submerge yourself into that memory and fully relive it, it has to overwhelm you with joy and nothing else. It cannot be tainted with something else.’

‘Excellent, that makes it all easier,’ said Hermione sarcastically.

‘A happy thought also helps,’ Ron chimed in. ‘Think you pass your N.E.W.T.s, maybe that’ll do it.’

‘Good one Ron,’ Harry nodded. ‘Come on, try.’ Hermione tried again, and when again, her wand failed to muster anything but a faint silver substance, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were left confused and astonished.

‘Really? Not even passing your N.E.W.T.s?’ Ginny commented. ‘Bad moment to decide academics aren’t that big of a deal.’

‘I told you I’m useless,’ said Hermione.

‘No, you’re not. You’re just not picking a strong enough memory, and so long as you keep letting even a faint voice in your head tell you it won’t work, it really won’t,’ Harry pointed out.

‘Let me try something out,’ Ron hugged Hermione from behind and began whispering things into her ear that Harry and Ginny couldn’t hear. Whatever he said, she closed her eyes and was smiling, slightly blushed. ‘You got it?’ Hermione nodded. ‘Okay, focus in that, uh? Don’t think of anything else. I know leaving your mind blank but it’s literally… a blank mind and a full, joyful heart.’

Hermione stretched her free hand to grab Ron’s before he could walk away, her eyes closed.

‘Expecto Patronum,’ she murmured calmly, and suddenly, a grow of silver light came out and took the shape of an otter in front of them, swiftly swimming in the air. Hermione knew it had worked before she closed her eyes, she felt it work, but she still opened her eyes to see her old friend right before it disappeared.

‘Well bloody done,’ said Ron, kissing her with excitement.

‘You told her something filthy, didn’t you?’ Ginny raised her eyebrow, amused.

‘No,’ replied Hermione, looking at Ron like she knew some enormously meaningful secret. ‘But it’s ours. And it worked. Could be stronger but…’

‘A corporeal Patronus is one hell of an achievement!’ Harry grinned at her. ‘See? You can do it, you just can’t start off alone, scared and hopeless. But now you’ve done the best Patronus I’ve ever seen you do, what can’t you possibly get done, uh?’

‘Just takes a bit of hope,’ said Ron, looking proudly at Hermione, who grinned, suddenly very happy.

‘All right… you guys are the best, come here,’ Hermione pulled them all into her arms, making them laugh as they tried to squeeze each other at once without crashing heads or mouths.

The Otter was back.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25: The truth of adult life.

Having fixed a timeline for himself, Harry had a lot to work in the months preceding Christmas, to make sure that 12 Grimmauld Place would be ready to welcome the whole family over. The Weasleys, Andromeda and Teddy were all confirmed to attend, even Bill and Fleur, who had ultimately decided to spend New Year’s Eve in France with the Delacours, but Christmas home with the Weasleys. By October, Hermione had also confirmed that she, her parents and Elaine would all be in attendance as well, so it would be a full house. And it wasn’t the only house Harry was worrying about.

He really, truly wanted to build a nice, wonderful house with Ginny. He imagined a lovely house to go to after a long, hard day of work. A house that would be a warm nest in the cold winters and a sunny paradise in the summer months. A house for future Potters to grow up in, as well as Teddy, for trauma to heal, a house for big family gatherings, and for his relationship with Ginny to grow. He knew he loved Ginny. He knew that, for the time being, he couldn’t imagine wanting someone else to grow old with. But he also knew that a future together would only be set in stone after they had had the experience of sharing a home of their own.

The location chosen for the new house, whose construction had begun late in August after months of planning, was Trowan Hamlet, a settlement of seven centuries located in the sunny coast of Cornwall, in and surrounding a little geographical head called Trowan’s Head of about one hundred and forty thousand square metres, situated at 3,20 kilometres East of Zennor Beach, and at about 1,20 kilometres west of Carn Naun Point. It was a grass-covered land of sheep and goats, with isolated muggle farms in the far surroundings, a place of peace, quiet, and low, rocky cliffs with fantastic views of a blue ocean peppered with whales, dolphins and seals, as well as small, isolated cove beaches. It was, in Harry’s opinion, idyllic, and it was close enough to the Weasleys in Devon, which he also liked.

In its origins, Trowan Hamlet had owed its name to the fact that barely a dozen muggles lived there. But it had evolved over the years, reaching a population of several hundred people, including wizards, by the seventeenth century, then reducing again so that by the twentieth century there was only about a hundred Trowaners, with the majority being wizards and witches. The decrease of muggle population was quite natural; many had mixed with wizards and witches, who had a larger life expectancy, so that while the muggles died, their magical relatives prevailed. Other muggles had eventually found Trowan Hamlet too isolated and left, whereas the magical community, able to magically apparate anywhere with quite the ease, didn’t find a reason to leave a place where they barely had to hide, and that was quite paradisaic. The Muggle World Wars, the poverty, and pandemics had only reduced the Muggle population faster, so in the end by 1994 there were no more Muggles, although not a single magical family that remained could say that they didn’t have some Muggle blood in their family trees. So while Hogsmeade was the only exclusively magical village in the country, Trowan Hamlet had become one of very few exclusively magical hamlets in the country, only that, considering most of their history was shared with Muggles, they weren’t obsessed with blood purity, and were quite familiar with Muggle elements, many of which, like lamp posts, had remained in the hamlet, working with magic after there were no more Muggles to figure them out. This was part of the reason why Harry had chosen that settlement. He didn’t want his children to grow unfamiliar with the Muggles, to be ignorant of a whole enormous part of the world as it was the Muggle world, nor to be surrounded by Purebloods obsessed with blood purity. He wanted a Muggle-friendly place, but also a place without actual Muggles, so that he didn’t have to stress about being caught doing magic by a Muggle in his own house. And Trowan Hamlet checked all the dots. And it also had a nearby Muggle city, St Ives, to get anything he might miss in Trowan Hamlet.

‘Looking thoughtful.’

Harry tore his eyes from the blue and green ocean illuminated by the morning sun to turn around. Standing in the small, sandy cove with him was Ron, giving him a small smile.

‘Just enjoying the calm breeze, the smell of the ocean…’ Harry looked to a nearby rocky cliff that rose about a hundred and seventy metres above sea level, Trowan’s Head. His house was being built right there. ‘The house is looking good, have you seen it?’

‘Yeah, brilliant job,’ Ron took off his boots and rolled his trouser sleeves up, sitting on a rock with Harry, their feet in the water. ‘What a nice place to live. You’re building quite a big house, I noticed.’

‘I want to have children in that house. Besides, Teddy is part of the family.’

‘Ginny agrees, does she?’

‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded. A red fox had approached them in the beach, but had ultimately gone off chasing a bird up the small hill that went back to the Head.

Ever since the last muggle had died, the wizards and witches had put enchantments, so that whenever a muggle came close, they just saw the ruins of an old human settlement, and if any curious muggle tried to walk in, they would feel a sudden urge to leave, so badly they’d run away, which had led to muggles inventing stories of the area being haunted. But there were some muggles who could come in, because the enchantments worked similarly to the Fidelio Charm, so that if one of the families had muggle relatives, as some did, and revealed the location to them, it’d be accessible to them only. Still, as the population decreased, many houses had been left abandoned to root, or taken down, and the only problem was that, Harry had no available house to buy, only land. So he had bought a large portion of land right on the Head, surrounded mostly by cliffs going down to the beaches, and part of the house that was being built could be seen from where Harry and Ron were, as the hill they’d descended to get to the beach was right next to the house, anyway.

‘It’s amazing what you two are building,’ commented Ron, his blue eyes on the ocean. His red hair had grown a bit, and was now being messed by the wind. He had also grown a surprisingly thick beard, longer than Harry ever kept his, that together with the bulkiness he’d gained through exercise, made him look a bit like a half-Viking Scottish warrior. ‘Such a strong relationship. You make it look easy mate.’

‘Trouble in paradise?’ asked Harry, glancing at him.

It wasn’t weird for them to be there. They both began to feel claustrophobic between the Ministry and 12 Grimmauld Place quite quickly, and worked so hard, and for so many hours, that they relished the few free moments they could steal by the ocean, especially on weeks when, like that one, they hadn’t been able to see Hermione and Ginny at Hogwarts.

‘Not really, I’m just…’ Ron shrugged. ‘With Hermione, I feel so inexperienced. She is so smart, she always seems to know what she’s doing, and she’s got this Muggle culture where… well, they’re not supposed to get married until they’re like, in their mid twenties, at the very least. And children later, of course. So she wants to go slow. Didn’t you and Ginny want to go slow?’

‘We’ve been trying,’ replied Harry. ‘But Ginny and I are a peculiar case. We’ve practically been living together under your parents’ roof for the past eight years, at least in the holiday periods, and even though we dated for so little last year… well, feels like it was pretty intense.’

‘Intense enough for you to not have thought of someone else for a whole year. Ginny could’ve easily gotten back with Dean, and she didn’t,’ said Ron, ‘which Hermione reckons it means that she was already in love with you.’

‘Like I was with her. And neither of us said it,’ Harry half smiled with amusement. ‘I guess it was fast because we were such great friends for years somehow. Like, your sister’s a pretty great girl, she’s super popular so clearly, she’s good at making friends. And you’re my best friend and you two are quite alike, so it’s not surprising I’d like her just like I like you as a friend.’

‘So you think that’s why now it’s so easy to… think of actually building a family house for you both? Sharing assets?’

‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded. ‘We already have a taste of what living together is. Next year when she moves into this house with me, with you, with Hermione… it’ll be the four of us managing a life together and learning what that looks like, testing our relationships I suppose. But if we pass the test, eventually you and Hermione will want to find your own place, and when you do, Ginny and I will be alone in our dream house into which she’s put plenty of thought and ideas already. So it makes sense to build it as a family home. And if we break up… it’s still a place I’ll want to keep, or gift it to her. It’ll always be special, and we’ll always be special to each other, friends, people who shared some very intense years together and helped each other tremendously.’

Ron nodded, frowning in thought.

‘I wish I could do that with Hermione. Maybe not build a house, but now I have money to rent a small flat,’ said Ron. ‘I’ve been saving up, and living with you I get to save a ton and give some to Mum and Dad if they need it. I wish I could straight-up go to Hermione and say, move in with me. Just us. Because I can’t get enough of her, Harry. I miss her all the time, I’m not used to being without her, and I don’t enjoy my life and time on my own more without her.’

‘That’s sweet!’

‘For us, wizards with a very old-school mentality who tend to get married young, yes. But for Hermione… she wants to go slow, right? Truly slow, not your version of slow with Ginny. She wants to do things the Muggle way. And one thing is moving in with a few friends, including your boyfriend, and another… well, renting a flat together. Besides, we don’t have a good record with our fighting, at least your house is big enough for us to have plenty of personal space, but not a small flat.’

‘Then wait,’ Harry said simply. ‘Relationships aren’t a race, are they? There isn’t a place to get to, it’s not about going anywhere. Is aimlessly strolling through life with someone you love, with the only goal being, managing to be with someone who doesn’t drive you insane in three seconds.’

‘When did you become so wise?’ Ron teased, nudging him with his elbow, and Harry chuckled with a shrug.

‘Can I tell you a secret? Ever since being with Ginny… it does good for my head. A lot of good, actually. And then there’s this whole thing of finally having some kind of family, you know? True family, a partner in life… it’s amazing. But you know what I’ve realised about you and Hermione now you’re together?’

‘What?’

‘That you’re a lot like my parents. Not just because you take good care of me,’ added Harry, making Ron laugh. ‘But for the stuff Sirius and Remus told me about my parents, and the stuff that I’ve found out from Snape’s memories, it looks like my parents spent six years not getting along at Hogwarts, worse than you and Hermione. My Mum was intelligent, daughter of Muggles, skilled, in the Slug Club and all those things, a complete academic, didn’t play Quidditch. And my Dad was this loyal friend who would tag along with any ideas crazier guys like Sirius might have, this brave guy who sometimes had a big mouth and could be quite cruel, a cocky, smug Pureblood who was yet to make touchdown in the real world. I mean you’re better than all that, always have been.’

‘Thanks mate.’

‘But the James he became is a lot like the Ron you’ve become. People who grow up, mature, get so fascinated by some woman better than them, because these girls, they’re better than us in every way…’

‘We’d literally be dead without Hermione, and if it wasn’t for Ginny you probably wouldn’t have figured out how to be a proper Quidditch Captain, to be honest.’

‘Exactly,’ Harry agreed. ‘And my Mum was better than my Dad too, until my Dad decided to become a man and get in her level, and only then were they balanced, like you and Hermione. I imagine that he was also the one to make her relax, have a laugh, enjoy life a little… and that she was also the one to remind him when it’s time to work, to be serious and responsible. And together… they became great soldiers in the storm, always because they had each other and so much love for one another. Like you guys.’

‘Why do you think your Mum forgave your Dad? I mean for the stuff you’ve told me over the years, he was a bit of a prick, bullying Snape and all that. We never quite bullied anyone, did we? Even Malfoy, it was mutual animosity.’

‘You nearly let Malfoy burn alive.’

‘As you said, nearly,’ they chuckled, looking amused at each other.

‘I think something must’ve happened. Maybe it was when their parents died, or at least his, I know he must’ve been around sixteen or so then…’ said Harry. ‘And he was different. Stopped being so cocky, so annoying, so smug, with that superiority complex and all that messing with others like Snape… and allowed her to see the best of him. His bravery, his loyalty, his respect for the Muggles, his kindness, and his desire to be a better man. He stopped being a teenage boy, that’s all.’

‘D’you think Hermione sees me like that? Like I’m a man now,’ said Ron. ‘Like… I don’t do so many stupid stuff any more. I’ve grown up. You think she sees all my good things now?’

‘Better than you do, as a matter of fact,’ Harry nodded. ‘That’s the thing with Hermione and Ginny, isn’t it? They see the best of us, even when we cannot see it ourselves. It’s not like we change and become someone else, it’s not like they don’t like who we really are and we need to change… it’s rather…’

‘Like a butterfly,’ said Ron.

‘Poetic.’

‘Yes, but it’s true, isn’t it? Butterflies start off as these ugly worms. And they’re still butterflies, they’re just not mature enough to show their true colours. Before they can get so pretty they’re a mess of things trying to find their rightful place, organising and becoming something better. We were teenagers. We had a lot to mature, a lot to learn… we had to figure out who we wanted to be, put our different qualities to good use, polish our flaws, then become our best. Something we always were, it was just hidden, like a butterfly.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded.

‘If you ever tell my brothers I was so cheesy, I will deny it and kill you.’ Harry laughed, and Ron laughed with him, patting his back and getting up. ‘Come on brother, let’s check that house of yours. Maybe we can do some painting, that always relaxes me.’

Harry and Ginny had thought about calling their new house Keynvor House. They had thought about Potter House, but Harry thought that considering he wanted it to be a house for anyone who needed a place, like Ron and Hermione, the name wasn’t entirely accurate. And then they had heard about the word “keynvor”, which was Cornish for “ocean”, and they thought it was beautiful and accurate to the location, so they were fixed on it.

So now Ron and Harry walked up to what would be Keynvor House. It was pretty much built now, as building was fast in the magical world, but it still had to be fully painted and furnished. Harry and Ron, who had discovered painting relaxed them, had decided not to hire anyone for the painting part and instead do it themselves, like they were doing the garden and the Quidditch practise area, with disillusionment charms so that sailors wouldn’t spot brooms flying up in the air, although due to Trowan Hamlet’s enchantments, they wouldn’t see the house either, just some scary-looking ruins.

Painting the Muggle way was like meditating. They busied themselves with the work and as they did so, they weren’t concentrating on memories of the stressful work they had, or the studying they had pending to do. Hermione and Ron had decided not to share a bedroom just yet, as they hadn’t been intimate together and they weren’t going to be ready for that in just a few months when they weren’t even living in the same city, so they each had their own room and bathroom, and Harry gave them freedom to paint them and decorate them like they wanted. So Ron took care of his room, and had Hermione’s permission to do hers for her, while she was away and under her instructions. Meanwhile, Harry was preparing his and Ginny’s bedroom and en suite bathroom, figuring out colour combinations and being helped with letters he and Ginny keep sending each other back and forth.

It was easy for Harry to begin imagining a life with Ginny as he painted their walls. He had never considered himself a romantic — in fact, he was quite clumsy when it came to women. But for some reason when it came to Ginny, he felt fiercely romantic, wanting to go above and beyond for her, and to make this not just a nice house, but a great home. He could imagine children running up and down the stairs shouting for “Mummy”, “Daddy”, or “he’s stolen my broomstick!”, he could just imagine recovering so much of what he had lost forever with his own parents. He would have a second chance, as a Dad, and he couldn’t wait. He just hoped that even with their complicated careers, Ginny would be on board.

Meanwhile, things at the Ministry were a slow progress. Harry and Ron were getting used to sleeping six, maybe eight hours if lucky, and spending the majority of their “free” time studying and working on their missing persons cases, which were depressing and mostly hopeless. They both knew the people they were looking for —a former Ministry official, in Ron’s case, and no less than Florean Fortescue, in Harry’s case— were most likely dead, but their bodies were unlikely to ever appear. Still, they weren’t supposed to close the cases until all the methods to find them had been tried and exhausted. And admittedly, they were at least learning a lot from the Aurors they were working with, from the lectures they attended, and the hands-in street work, so it was worth the effort of all the training and studying that they were doing.

But nobody could wait for Christmas to arrive. It would be a deserved break, a much awaited-for break, and so as thick blankets of brown and orange leaves began to cover the streets, the temperatures dropped, and the rains became more common, Winter finally arrived, and with it, hopes to see Hermione and Ginny very soon. But not before they had to prove that three months into the Ministry, they had learned a lot. And that meant not disappointing the bosses whenever Ron and Harry were given the chance to truly show off at on-the-job training that became more and more frequent the better they did.

So when Auror Cormoran Herbert, a veteran, returned alone one morning from a night mission with Ron, and did so while sporting a large bandage around his head and a swollen lip, Harry automatically shoot from his desk.

‘Herbert! Isn’t Ron with you?’

‘Potter, just who I was looking for,’ said Herbert, looking at him with tired eyes underneath thick, messy eyebrows. ‘There’s been a bit of a situation. Weasley’s in St Mungo’s.’

‘St Mungo’s?!’ Harry felt anxiety rise like bile. Christmas was one week again, if Ron wasn’t home by then, Hermione would kill them both. ‘What happened?’

‘I was about to tell Blackheath. Come ahead,’ Harry followed the veteran Auror to their boss’s office, knocking on the door. Once they were let in, Herbert had a lot of explanations to give.

As a part of their work in the Missing Persons Unit, Herbert had taken Ron to do some research and investigation for their case in the Isle of Drear, and they had unexpectedly found themselves facing no less than half a dozen Quintapeds .

‘We barely made it out,’ explained Herbert. ‘Weasley was magnificent, didn’t lose his nerves. Unfortunately, they had us surrounded before we could attempt to escape, and one punched me so hard I was knocked down with a concussion, was too dizzy to get up and aim, seeing double. But Weasley managed to scare the majority of them with fire, then one jumped on him from behind, pinning him to the ground, and by the time I managed to see clearly enough to aim at it, it had sunk his teeth on Weasley’s left arm, nearly ripped it off. Fortunately I was on time to prevent it, knocked the Quintaped out and took Weasley to St Mungo’s. They said he’ll be all right, he’ll just spend the night there while they heal the cracked bones of his arm, and the wound should be completely healed in a couple weeks.’

‘Got lucky,’ Blackheath nodded. ‘So is Drear the last place your investigation took you to?’

‘Yes. So chances are, Barton ended up dying there, he was always a little crazy about studying beasts… at least is not related to Dark Magic.’

‘Sir,’ Harry intervened, turning to Blackheath, ‘could I go and visit Ron now? He’s my friend and if he’s not going to be home tonight then I should check on him and report to his family, they don’t know anything.’

‘Right, yes, do that. But I want you back in an hour tops, Potter.’

Short on time, Harry wasted none of it. He couldn’t apparate just from anywhere in the Ministry, but he could run to the fireplaces and be in one of St Mungo’s fireplaces in no time, which was what he did. He found Ron, looking pale, resting on a hospital bed with his injured arm on a cast, bandaged-up.

‘Ron,’ Harry rushed to his bedside, ‘are you all right mate? I just heard.’

Ron opened his eyes and smiled weakly at him.

‘Harry, it’s you. Yeah… I thought I was a dead man,’ Ron snorted a laugh, seemingly having lost too much blood to act too serious. ‘But they fixed me up, and Herbert said I was bloody heroic. I’ll be home tomorrow.’

‘How about I tell your mother that it was a troll?’

‘Better go with the truth. Dad always says that rumours in the Ministry spread fast, so he probably already knows, or Percy, it’d be a lot of people to hide the truth from Mum… but tell her it was a small Quintaped, and that it wasn’t that big a deal, just a superficial bite. They heal the bones in just one night,’ Ron yawned hard. ‘Don’t tell Hermione though, I don’t want to worry her.’

‘But she’s going to see you next week.’

‘Yes, but I’ll be looking better, so she won’t get upset. And don’t tell Ginny either, just in case she accidentally blurts it out in front of Hermione.’

‘Right.’

‘I think I’m going to sleep, mate…’ said Ron yawning again.

‘Sure,’ Harry tucked him a little better. ‘You rest, get better. Blackheath told me I have to go back, and I need to speak to your parents first so I better go. But I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?’

‘No worries, no worries. Thanks Harry.’

Harry decided Mr Weasley needed to be tackled first, because he was far more likely to get the rumour first, so Harry returned to the Ministry and found Mr Weasley in his office, that was now bigger than his previous one, and next to a room full of the employees he was the boss off, each with their own little cubicle. Seeing Harry arrive surprised him greatly, and he got up from his chair to shake his hand.

‘Harry! It’s been a while son, how are you doing?’

‘Very well Arthur, thanks. I’m on a rush, Blackheath wants me back soon. I just wanted to inform you that Ron is in St Mungo’s. Had a bit of a confrontation with a Quintaped,’ he added quickly, and Arthur flopped on his chair, looking stunned.

‘A Quintaped! But that’s no small thing, is he all right? St Mungo’s you said?’

‘Yes, but he’s fine, really, I just saw him with my bare arms. It bit his arm, broke the bone with the force of it, but they’ll have his bones regenerated in a few hours, just overnight, and tomorrow morning he’ll be mostly fine, they said the rest of the wound will heal completely in a couple weeks,’ said Harry. He was used now to magical wounds taking longer to heal, while Muggle ones could be healed in just a moment. ‘So Ron will be fine. Completely fine. I spoke to him for a while, he was in good spirits, and then he fell asleep. He’s been working all night, so…’

‘Sure, he must be tired,’ Arthur nodded. ‘Very well, thanks for letting me know. I’ll make sure to see him before I go home tonight.’

‘I was about to tell Molly as well, but if you’d rather…’

‘Oh yes, better I do it. But thank you.’

‘All right. I’ll get back to work,’ said Harry. ‘We’re still on for Christmas lunch next week right?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Arthur smiled small. ‘It’s a great thing to look forwards to! Let me know if Ron’s situation changes, will you?’

‘Absolutely. Have a good day.’

‘You too.’

Harry returned to his desk with an anxious feeling, and found Emma Hampton waiting for him, staring at him with piercing blue eyes.

‘There he is,’ she celebrated. ‘I was waiting.’

‘Blackheath gave me an hour and I’m ahead of time,’ said Harry. ‘My best friend Ron got into St Mungo’s, I had to check on him.’

‘I know. And now it’s time to get back to work. Get up and start following me, we’re going to the lovely Scotland, I’ve got a lead.’

‘But I told you,’ said Harry, following her along. ‘Florean is dead and we won’t find his body. Voldemort himself took him for information, Florean was an expert in magical history and Voldemort doesn’t interrogate someone and lets them alive. He likely fed him to his snake.’

‘And I told you, even if we believe he’s dead, we keep looking until we have something to give to his family to bury, or—,’

‘—until we’ve upturned every stone, yes I know.’

Hampton turned to look at him empathetically.

‘We would do it for you, for anyone. It’s what separates us from those monsters, Potter, our humanity, our desire to find good people, alive or dead, and if dead, give them a proper burial. My contact claims to have seen Death Eaters using a forest near his village to bury bodies, hopefully he’ll be there and if he isn’t, others will be. So we will close a few Missing Person cases today, even if they aren’t ours.’

Harry sighed and nodded, preparing himself for seeing death.

‘All right, let’s go.’

The forest in Scotland was tucked away from civilization, and it took them quite a while, as the thickness of the trees kept the sunlight from passing through, to find anything that resembled a good burial site. At last, after much looking around, the two walked right into an area where it looked like a bunch of bushes had been ripped off to give space of dark brown soil. Hampton raised her wand there, and a cloud of soil rose in the air, revealing a mountain of bones below, not very deeply buried beneath the soil.

‘Are those human bones?’ Harry asked, already dreading the answer. He’d always imagined being an Auror as the exciting job of going after criminals, but he hadn’t stopped to consider that it was up to them to find the victims, too. And often, they weren’t alive, not when it came to Voldemort.

‘Come up here, time to learn,’ said Hampton, squatting by the bones. Carefully, Harry squatted next to him. ‘This is a human humerus. See those marks there? Don’t touch it, it’s got forensic evidence all over.’

‘Yes.’ Harry looked at what seemed like creaks on the bone.

‘Werewolf teeth marks,’ informed Hampton. ‘The most aggressive, violent, dangerous and out of control werewolves will enjoy eating humans, preferably while they’re still alive. And with Voldemort, it became frequent for him to offer humans to the werewolves in exchange for their services. By the size of this humerus, this one was a child, not older than eleven.’

‘Merlin,’ Harry could’ve vomited, and looked aside, his stomach knotting up.

‘You’ve got to develop a tough stomach, Potter. Our job is this horrendous sometimes,’ said Hampton. ‘Now this is what we do. Carefully, we will keep lifting soil and recovering bones. We will put them all in a pile, and try to determine how many victims we got and how many were children or adults. We will also look for wands, so we can try and know whether these bodies belong to Muggles or Wizards and Witches. Let’s go.’

It took them two hours of removing soil, sometimes with their bare hands, to ensure they didn’t miss out on a tiny bone, and eventually they had found about a dozen skulls, some adult, some children, and corresponding full skeletons and clothes. Then it was a task of pairing each bone with one person, which Hampton had the ability and knowledge to do, teaching Harry spells to compare bones and figure if they belonged to the same human, and teaching him some biology as well. Eventually, they concluded they had eight under-seventeen and four middle-aged adults.

‘Werewolves had preference for young humans,’ explained Hampton, looking at the skeletons they had managed to reconstruct, while Harry illuminated them with his wand. ‘Teeth marks all over, and no wands… would you say these clothes look Muggle?’

‘I would say so, yes,’ replied Harry.

‘So, twelve dead Muggles,’ Hampton nodded, looking serious. ‘We will pass them to the Muggle police, there will be families wanting to bring their own back home.’

It was a further load of hours doing paperwork, before Harry was finally allowed to go home, knackered and with a pounding headache and a heart that felt ripped out of his chest. Luckily for him, Kreacher was just waiting with dinner made, happy to force Harry onto a seat and put a large plate full of meat in front of Harry that, as much as the young wizard knew would be delicious, was also not what he felt like eating after a day of uncovered innocents that had been eaten alive by monsters like Fenrir Greyback.

‘Where’s Master Ron?’ asked Kreacher, suddenly noticing the absence as he also went to sit down for dinner.

‘In hospital, got injured at work, but he’ll be back by morning,’ replied Harry, and sighed deeply. ‘How was your day?’

‘Kreacher’s day was good, Master Harry. Kreacher enjoyed exploring the new neighbourhood in Trowan Hamlet, Sir, and the beaches. Kreacher quite enjoys the fresh air there.’

‘I’m glad,’ Harry nodded. ‘Hopefully it’ll be finished by January or February, and then we can move, put this house in the market. The sooner we do it, the better. Keynvor House is so much safer, bigger, and you’ll quite enjoy your bedroom, has its own fireplace and everything.’

That night, it was hard for Harry to sleep. He kept seeing Greyback devouring people he knew, Teddy, Hermione, Ginny… eventually he got so fed up that he woke up, and even though it was still early in the wee hours of the morning, Harry got dressed and got out to get some training done. It would take him years to develop a tough stomach, but in the meantime, jogging would help.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26: Family time.

‘It’s all okay really, barely even hurts by now.’

Hermione was checking Ron’s bandaged arm for the fifth time in the little more than an hour since she had arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place that night.

Harry and Ron had moved her and Ginny’s few things left behind from The Burrow, picked them up at the Station, and were back home on time for dinner. The girls would visit The Burrow in the morning to see the Weasleys, while the boys went to work, and Hermione would then rejoin her family until Christmas, when they would all celebrate together, before Ron joined Hermione and her family for a few days until the New Year. Ginny and Hermione didn’t get two weeks off, as they were returning to King’s Cross on the first Monday of January, so Hermione would spend her last weekend of freedom with them.

Now, Harry was cooking dinner while Ginny organised her things in her and Harry’s bedroom —her parents had had a small fit when they had heard she was going to spend the holidays with him and share a bedroom, but had eventually recovered— and Ron, who’d been working all day right until the point they had to return to King’s Cross, while Harry enjoyed some rest after a night shift, was trying not to fall asleep on the sofa, with Hermione showering him with affection.

‘Okay, if you’re sure…’ Hermione kissed him and got up. She had gotten worried sick when she’d seen him show up with a cast. ‘Have some rest, I’ll help Harry in the kitchen.’

Kreacher had left some stuff made, but he had already gone to bed, as the others arrived rather late from King’s Cross, so Harry was still handling a lot of cooking. Hermione joined him, washing her hands in the sink. Her short hair was long now, grown in the last three and a half months and kept in a simple, effortless bun.

‘How are you doing?’ Harry asked Hermione as she took over the salad so he could check on the main dish in the oven.

‘Pretty well actually. After you helped me out, my magic’s been doing better.’

‘Really? That’s fantastic!’

‘It is,’ Hermione beamed tiredly. ‘There’s still work to do, but I think I’m officially on the mend. I suppose managing my worst spell gave me a proper confidence boost.’

‘I knew you could get there,’ Harry grinned at her, turning back to his food after a moment.

‘How about you? Ron said it got a bit rough in the office lately.’

‘Well, we’ve finally settled Florean’s body won’t appear, we’ve run out of leads and clues,’ said Harry with a sigh. ‘And we identified, twelve dead Muggles, as I’m sure you know.’

‘Yeah. Greyback’s victims, then?’

‘Yes. That was quite horrible indeed.’

His friend nodded, clenching her jaw as she thought about it.

‘The bastard got off with little, didn’t he?’ commented Hermione. ‘Gets to chill out in the new Azkaban just like that, without dementors. After what he did to Lavender…’ not to mention herself. He had nearly had her.

‘I thought you liked the changes in Azkaban,’ said Harry.

‘Yes, when it comes to treatment of people. Greyback enjoys eating people alive, even Voldemort was nicer,’ said Hermione.

‘Debatable.’

‘Trust me, had Greyback wanted you dead instead of Voldemort, your parents wouldn’t have had a quick death.’

‘Well, you’ll be happy to know then that Greyback is actually dead.’

‘Is he?’ Hermione dropped what she was doing and turned to him, shocked. ‘When? The papers didn’t say anything, Ron didn’t…’

‘It just happened this morning, it’ll be on the papers tomorrow, Merry Christmas.’

‘But how?’

‘They were moving him to a different cell, more reinforced, because when he turns into a werewolf it gets quite dangerous for the guards, especially on Full Moon,’ Harry explained. ‘He attempted to kill the guards, who were bloody lucky to get out without a scratch, and was finally killed in the struggle. Lucky for them it wasn’t Full Moon, they could kill him easier being an unarmed human.’

‘Woah,’ Hermione was absolutely stunned. ‘Well good. Good,’ she nodded. ‘The world’s a little safer now.’

‘Kingsley’s thinking of pushing for legislation that allows for werewolves to be sentenced to death if they’re as dangerous as Greyback and refuse any assistance, such as the Wolfsbane Potion. But you know, he wants to study it well, make sure good people like Remus was don’t get killed.’

‘It’s a delicate subject I suppose,’ agreed Hermione, going back to chopping salad ingredients. ‘But the legislation on magical creatures is severely outdated. I mean, house-elves are still being massively mistreated.’ She waved her wand and the knife began chopping on its own, and with another movement, it’ll stop now and then for the wooden board to move on its own and pour the cut ingredients into the salad bowl.

‘Will you look at that,’ Harry looked amazed at her, and Hermione grinned proudly. ‘Things are really getting better with you, uh?’

‘That’s one good show of magic,’ Ginny entered the kitchen, smiling warmly as she saw a bunch of carrots perfectly chopped in small, symmetrical pieces, pour themselves into the glass bowl on the counter. ‘I’ve finished putting my clothes away, I hope you don’t mind I took an extra drawer for underwear. You know, bras,’ she added, putting her hands lovingly on Harry’s chest as she hugged him from behind.

‘Sounds good to me,’ replied Harry, moving a hand over his shoulder to caress her face. ‘Dinner is nearly ready, now that Hermione reminded me that I’m a wizard I guess I’ll just make the dishes wash themselves and take the chicken out of the oven.’

‘I’ll set the table. Hermione, would you give me a hand? I’ll ask Ron but it looks like he needed that nap…’

The three moved swiftly to get everything ready and woke Ron up just as his snores were beginning to be disruptive, so that the four could sit together and enjoy a late meal before going to bed. It had been a long day. For the women, it meant hours sitting in the Hogwarts Express train, for Harry, even when he had time to nap after a night of work, it also meant he had to catch up with studying and training, and for Ron, it was all work.

‘Can’t wait to see Elaine tomorrow,’ said Hermione with excitement as she ate. ‘Mum’s sent me a picture per day, and she’s growing enormous. She’s almost one now, apparently she’s already half-walking, and babbling a lot.’

‘How is she half-walking? You either walk or not,’ said Ron with curiosity.

‘Well she walks a couple steps and falls on her knees, or walks a bit more with assistance. So she’s kind of walking,’ specified Hermione. ‘And it’s going to be great to have you tag along for the holidays, right? Did you get the time off work then?’

‘I’ve been working extra hours for two weeks to be given those days off, so yes,’ said Ron. ‘It’s going to be great, learning about Muggles, seeing what all that electricity is about, and those technological things… the Intranet…’

‘Internet,’ said Hermione. ‘Intranet is an specific Internet network. Bit confusing.’

‘Doesn’t matter, I’m going to have enough time to learn them all by heart,’ said Ron with enthusiasm. ‘And we’ll get to play those… videogames, is it?’

‘What’s that?’ asked Ginny.

‘Like toys inside a TV,’ replied Harry. ‘You have a control and can manage what your character does, live adventures with it like films or books.’

‘That sounds very strange,’ Ginny frowned, and Harry smiled candidly, kissing her forehead.

‘Don’t you worry about it, luckily for you, you don’t have to get used to Muggle things. We won’t be having Christmases with the Dursleys.’

‘Maybe we should,’ said Ginny. ‘Not now, but in a few years, eventually… at least with Dudley, he seems a bit better than his parents.’

‘What?’ Ron snorted. ‘Ginny, those people are nutters. The farther from them you guys are, the happier you will be.’

‘I know, but Christmas is about family, about forgetting, forgiving, moving on and loving each other. I know they did unforgivable things, but Dudley was a kid, he might’ve matured, we might be able to give him a second chance.’

‘Remind me again in a decade,’ replied Harry.

‘Aw, sweet you don’t even doubt we’ll be together in a decade,’ Ginny grinned, turning to kiss him. ‘You’re so cute,’ she added, pinching his cheek.

‘With who else would I be? Cho Chang?’ Harry teased with half a smirk, only to laugh when Ginny glared at him, grin gone.

‘Speaking of Cho Chang, she’s back at Hogwarts too. She’s a Prefect for Ravenclaw, in fact. Substituting someone else,’ added Hermione. ‘And she seems to be doing much better than other years. You know, no longer crying around the corners.’

‘She comes to the Dumbledore’s Army meetings which by the way, have been going really well,’ said Ginny in addition to Hermione’s comment.

‘She wouldn’t have been a good addition to the family,’ said Ron. ‘Doesn’t match us, as nice and pretty as she is. Ginny works better.’

‘Thank you,’ said Ginny.

‘I’m happy Cho’s doing better, as any friend would be,’ said Harry nonchalantly, pouring more juice into his goblet. ‘But also, I’m happy I stopped wanting to be with her. Ron’s right, we weren’t that good of a fit. Besides, doesn’t she have a Chinese father? I’d have to go to China every Christmas to see her family. China. Too far away. And then I’d have to explain Chinese folks I’m actually a Potter-Weasley, even if not ginger.’

The others laughed at his joking about. It really felt like Christmas, even when it was still two days away.

Harry had managed to get Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve and the 1 ^st of January off in exchange for working on Christmas Eve’s day, Christmas Day’s night, New Year’s Eve’s morning, and the rest of the holidays minus his regular day off a week. And Ron was on reduced working time until his arm made a full recovery, taken off any duties that could make the injury worse, such as anything that might potentially involve duelling or gruelling physical activity, so he was only going to the Ministry for a few hours at a time to go to lectures and do office work, like some nights, or some hours during the day. Therefore, on Christmas Eve, Harry spent most of the day in the Ministry, Ron a small amount, Hermione said hi to the Weasleys before going to spend the day with her family, and Ginny would recruit her family to help prepare 12 Grimmauld Place’s for the big family dinner. Kreacher, Harry and Ron had already cleaned, decorated, and done lots of cooking, so it wasn’t like there was much left to do.

It was a long day, since Harry couldn’t wait to get home to his family for what might be one of the best Christmas Eve nights of his life. And the more he wanted the seconds to start running, the slower they seemed to go, until at last, the clock marked 6 pm and he was finally allowed to go. He practically jumped off his chair at his desk.

‘Gotta go, Merry Christmas everyone,’ he said happily to his comrades who had the night shift, and practically ran out before anyone would give him a last minute task.

He was at Grimmauld Place in a heartbeat. He walked around the garden square in a rush, trying to avoid being seen by Muggles, and with a movement of his wand he saw his house begin to appear, pushing the Muggle houses to the side without anyone noticing. He wondered what Hermione’s parents would see when they came in. Perhaps Hermione would have to physically hold the door open for them.

Harry had only just pushed the key into the keyhole when the door opened and Ginny appeared, grinning and looking adorable in one of her seventeen Weasley jumpers.

‘Merry Christmas!’ she pushed the door closed behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly.

It was like being brought back to life. Harry couldn’t understand how he had spent three months and a half without Ginny, barely seeing one day every few weeks when they were too busy, but now, with her arms tightly wrapped around her waist, the smell of her mixed with whatever wonders came from the kitchen downstairs, her chest against his, and her lips so sweetly in his, Harry could not imagine a better feeling in the world, nor to have to do without this kind of welcome home every single day.

‘Merry Christmas,’ Harry whispered when Ginny finally let him breathe. ‘You look wonderful.’

‘Long day?’ asked Ginny, because Harry sounded like he was taking his first breath on Earth, looking at her like she was the sun in the dark. Not like she’d ever get tired of him looking at her like that.

‘Every day is a long day when it keeps me from coming home to you,’ he said sweetly, making her grin and kiss him again.

‘Come, give me your cloak and go get changed. Everyone’s here already.’

‘Already?’

‘Yeah, they’ve been arriving in the last half hour, so not long. Hurry up babe.’

Harry gave her his cloak and raced for the stairs, unbuttoning his robes as he went. He and Ginny were, for the time being, occupying Sirius’s old bedroom, but they were expected to be able to move to Keynvor House by February or March, sooner than the year Harry had predicted.

He had already decided that since the money from selling 12 Grimmauld Place wouldn’t be necessary for the new house, he and Andromeda had agreed on putting it into a new vault they would open at Gringotts under Teddy’s name. After all, the house had traditionally belonged to the Black family, and Teddy was literally the grandson of Andromeda, born Black, and great-grandson of Cygnus Black and Druella Rosier. And Cygnus Black was the brother of Walburga Black, Sirius and Regulus’ mother, whose portrait had been in the corridor for ages until Kreacher took it to his room.

There would be a time in which Harry and Andromeda would have to explain to Teddy his origins. They would have to tell him one of his great-great grandmothers was Irma Crabbe, belonging to the Crabbe family, that had given quite a few Death Eaters. And others were Black, like Death Eaters Bellatrix Lestrange (born Black), Regulus Black who repented and worked against Voldemort quite heroically, or Narcisa Malfoy (born Black). Teddy would also come to know he was very distantly related through the Black family to the Yaxleys, also Death Eaters the most of them, or the Burkes, who weren’t quite good wizards either, considering the shop in Knockturn Alley Borgin & Burke’s. But Teddy would also know there was a lot of good he was also related to. His grandmother, or his grandmother’s cousin Sirius, even Regulus considering he repented, and other distant relatives, even Harry, who had discovered, after much studying the Black family tree, that a woman named Dorea Black who had died in the 70s, had married Charlus Potter and had a son. Harry didn’t know who that son was, but through studying his own family tree, which he’d been investigating, Charlus Potter was the cousin of his great-grandfather, Henry Potter. Therefore, Harry was very faintly and indirectly related to Teddy, as all Pureblood families were. And he wasn’t the only nice person he wanted to tell Teddy he was related to; there were Ignatius Prewett and his wife Lucretia Black, who were Molly Weasley’s uncle and aunt, or Callidora Black, who married Harfang Longbottom, Neville’s great-grandfather.

And then, there was all the wonderful family that Teddy had in the Lupins and the Tonks, of course. But as a descendant of the Blacks, Harry was set that it was Teddy who should receive the money. After all, the Blacks had also done the most damage to him, considering they had contributed to the deaths of Sirius, Teddy’s parents, and Teddy’s grandfather, so it was payback that they would “leave” Teddy a very generous sum of money that, Harry figured, he could gain access to once he finished Hogwarts, and use it to begin his own life.

But for now, the thought was pushed to the back of Harry’s mind as he removed his robes and put on his latest Weasley jumper over his nice shirt and ran back downstairs to the kitchen.

Ginny was right, everyone was there. To his disbelief, Harry saw Kreacher and Molly were discussing cookery while moving together the food onto the table, with the help of Bill and Fleur. Hermione was holding Elaine while chatting with Ron, her parents, Arthur, Andromeda and Percy, apparently deep in conversation. Charlie and George were sitting at the table, chatting with Hagrid, who was in a reinforced chair. And Ginny was bouncing Teddy against her lap, entertaining him making colourful bubbles with her wand.

The dining table was all set, with a beautiful Christmassy tablecloth, and was fuller and fuller with food coming from the counters. It would be fitting sixteen, which was slightly over the amount they had been the previous Christmas there, back when Sirius, Tonks, Moody and Remus all lived. The two babies would be on laps, and the adults would spread along the long length of the table, seven on one side, eight in another, two in one extreme of the table and Hagrid in the other.

Harry moved around the room greeting everyone and wishing Merry Christmas. In one moment he had Teddy in his arms, throwing him in the air and making him laugh. Teddy was now eight months old, and he was big and giggly, babbling loudly as if he thought he was making himself very clear. But Elaine was even bigger, and her resemblance to her big sister, more obvious, only two weeks from her first birthday, with a head full of bushy brown curls decorated with a bow for the occasion.

‘Harry, you should sit at the head of the table with Ginny,’ argued Arthur as they all found seats. ‘It’s the first dinner you host, and the hosts always sit at the head. Some traditions are okay to keep.’

‘All right, let’s sit then,’ Harry and Ginny got to their seats and Harry accommodated Teddy on his lap. ‘Kreacher, come sit around my corner, you’ve been the main chef, after all…’ he wanted to make sure the house-elf wasn’t pushed aside, that he was included, given a chance to make amends and become friends with the people around him. His chair had even been fixed like a child’s seat so he was at a good height at the table.

The steaming food looked and smelled amazingly. Ron, Percy and Bill moved to make sure everyone’s glasses were filled with whatever they preferred, the Grangers giving a try to Pumpkin juice, as one would be driving later and the other was breastfeeding, and when everyone turned to him, Harry understood that as the main host and house owner (the whole thing had been his idea, after all), he was expected to say a few words. But Harry was too tired and hungry to come up with anything, so he turned to Ginny.

‘Why doesn’t the queen of the house take the lead?’ he joked with half a smile.

‘All right,’ Ginny grinned. ‘Well, thank you Harry for the lovely idea of reuniting us all, thank you Kreacher, Mum, Mr and Mrs Granger, Bill and Fleur, Hagrid, Andromeda, and Harry and myself for all the delicious food and drinks we’re about to enjoy, thank you to whatever Gods any of us might believe in for keeping us alive, well, and able to get together tonight, and before we all throw ourselves into the food like pigs,’ she elicited some giggling, ‘if no one minds, I’d like to hold a minute of silence out of respect and remembrance for those who unfortunately are here, but only in spirit. We always miss them most these days.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Harry with approval, and saw how everyone sat in silence, looking down or closing their eyes, some holding hands, respectfully quiet. The babies kept babbling, but it didn’t matter.

Harry closed his eyes, and allowed sadness to sink in for a moment as he remembered his parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, and even Dumbledore and Snape. But Ginny didn’t let them dwell in sadness for long, as she was keeping an eye on her watch, opening an eye to glance at it now and then, and right after a minute she cleared her throat.

‘Thank you all,’ she said, and it was followed by a choir of clearing throats as everyone composed themselves.

‘Now,’ Harry got up, Teddy in one arm, raising his glass, ‘to you all, eighteen of the finest Brits there are. To love, family, and friendship. Cheers!’

‘Cheers!’

As they ate, there was soon laughter mixing with the giggling of children, and they were greatly surprised when Kreacher went to play with both babies in front of the fireplace, making toys dance in the air for them. It reminded them that Kreacher was supposed to be good for children; he began serving his former masters when they were born, after all. But to see him so oddly cheerful and carefree was quite refreshing. It even made him seem younger.

After dinner, they left things to clean themselves and all went upstairs to the large living room, where an enormous tree was set up, full of lights and decorations that soon grabbed the children’s attention. Harry lit the fireplace with a shake of his wand, and they sat together to open all the many presents everyone had received. Harry, who didn’t consider himself amazing at knowing what to give people, had made an effort to investigate and research, and had made sure to get everyone, even Kreacher, at least one really nice present, wanting to make sure everyone felt appreciated. Mrs Weasley had made jumpers for everyone as well, including the babies, Kreacher and the Grangers, which was really nice, and Mr and Mrs Granger had been attentive enough to also get everyone something, even if they were generic presents towards people they didn’t know well and neither did Hermione or Ron to help them. Harry was happy to see Kreacher nearly tearing up opening almost a dozen presents, when he had never had none for Christmas, and he encouraged the elf to put on his Weasley jumper, since it looked infinitely better than the old rag elves wore, and Harry knew, was infinitely softer and warmer. Kreacher was so touched, he hugged Molly’s legs, much to her delight.

And then came the drinks, biscuits, Christmas sweets, and as some began to get drunk, Christmas carols began to be sung at the top of their lungs. The Grangers and Harry, and even Andromeda through her late husband, were quite familiar with classics like Oh Christmas Tree, We wish you a Merry Christmas, Santa Claus is coming to town or Holy night , but the others taught them their own classics such as A witch and wizard’s wondrous land, My baby gave me a hippogriff for Christmas , Nothing like a holiday spell , or God rest ye, merry hippogriffs.

Then for the first time in his life, Harry found himself drunk, a fact he only noticed when, red and warm in the face and playing with Teddy and Elaine, Kreacher having retired to bed, he kept laughing stupidly at George’s joke articles, of which he was doing an exhibition, and Ginny, smiling warmly at him, told him:

‘You’re drunk, aren’t you baby?’ Harry didn’t reply, but happily accepted her lips on his cheek.

In spite of his drunken state, Harry was self-aware enough to not ridicule himself, and before anyone began to decide to go home, Harry decided to make one last toast for the night, so he filled his goblet with juice —he was intelligent enough to know another goblet of Firewhiskey and he would deeply regret it in the morning— and stood up in the middle of the room. Everyone was sitting around, chatting animatedly, the babies had fallen asleep and they were just relaxing and enjoying their mutual company, getting to know each other better. But everyone stopped to pay Harry attention, so that he could see more cheeks and ears as red as his from the alcohol.

‘So, I can only assume my first Christmas was amazing, but I was only five months old so,’ Harry shrugged and grinned. ‘The following nine aren’t worth the mention. But I remember my first Christmas at Hogwarts, it was wonderful. I got my first Weasley jumper thanks to Molly, and there were the huge Christmas trees Hagrid sets up, and Ron and I played chess for hours while Hermione enjoyed France with the fam,’ he raised his glass to Hermione, who chuckled in amusement. ‘Our second Christmas at Hogwarts was the first I spent together with my two best friends in the whole world.’

‘You’re so drunk mate,’ Ron giggled, drunk himself. ‘Now we know you get cheesy when you’re drunk.’ They laughed at that, even Harry.

‘Maybe, but now we can look back and laugh about it, how awesome was it that Hermione became a cat for Christmas?’ Harry laughed. ‘A potion gone wrong,’ he added taking importance away with a wave of his hand, as Hermione and Ron cackled and the others looked amused and puzzled. ‘The following Christmas was amazing, I sneaked to visit the Village of Hogsmeade — sorry not so sorry,’ he added apologetically towards Molly and Arthur, who smiled, shaking hands, ‘and we had so much fun there, eating candy and doing all the things thirteen-year-olds love. It was I think, in comparison, the best one we’ve had at Hogwarts, considering we didn’t have some fancy school ball like we did the following year, but one of my favourites, although it wasn’t on the day, is the first one most of us spent here. I was fifteen, and my Godfather would be singing Christmas carols around… it was awesome,’ Harry smiled faintly. ‘And it preceded my first Christmas at The Burrow, and also the first one Fleur spent with us,’ he added with a gesture to Fleur, who smiled warmly. ‘That makes one of my favourites. Now last year… well, it absolutely sucked,’ Harry made no mention to Godric’s Hollow, the tent, or being alone with Hermione. ‘The good news is that when something sucks, there’s always hope for improvement. And this year… this is how I hope my Christmases always look like from now on. Everyone I care about the most, Kreacher included,’ he pointed to the ceiling, as Kreacher would be sleeping two floors above. ‘And friendship, family, my love,’ he smiled to Ginny, who grinned back, ‘everything that matters in one same room. So I want to thank you for being here and making my day and wish you a very merry rest of the holidays. I know we all have people to miss and get sad about but… we should always remember to count our blessings, and as cheesy as it is, Merlin forgive me, you’re mine and I’m so grateful I get to spend this day with you, because there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Next year it’ll be even better, I promise. Merry Christmas!’

‘Merry Christmas!’ everyone cheered, and Teddy and Elaine, snuggled together on the sofa, didn’t get bothered in the slightest with the sound, sleeping away.

When at last everyone started to go, goodbyes seemed to come one after another. Hermione was leaving with her parents and Ron would join her the following day after spending Christmas Day with his own family, so they bid goodbye to her too until January, and at last, Harry, Ginny and Ron were left alone. Ron grabbed the bags of his presents and made his way up to bed, leaving Harry and Ginny alone, so they wasted no time getting cosy in his absence. Harry flopped on the sofa, getting warmed by the fire, and Ginny sat on his lap, nuzzling into his neck, feeling the tiredness of the day sink in. Harry began to absently play with her hand, that was full of different rings because Ginny seemed to have taken a liking for odd rings, and they were simply enjoying each other’s presence in silence, each in their own heads.

That was until Harry felt an urge to talk to Ginny about the only bit he hadn’t yet told her in regards to his journey with Hermione and Ron the year before.

‘There’s something about my family you should know,’ said Harry suddenly, his voice soft and calm in the night. Ginny hummed, showing she was listening, so he went on. ‘We descend from one of the three brothers of the tale. You know, in The Tales of Beedle the Bard. The story about the three brothers who cheat death.’

‘Harry those are tales. They’re not true,’ said Ginny softly into his neck.

‘But they did exist. The brothers. Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus Peverell, from eldest to youngest. They lived in the twelfth century, were born in Godric’s Hollow, like me.’

Ginny straightened up and looked into his eyes with an interested expression.

‘They’re real? They cheated death?’

‘Dumbledore thought that part can’t be entirely true. According to him, they were just remarkably powerful and skilled wizards who created the Deathly Hallows themselves. That’s how they’re called, the powerful Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak.’

Ginny’s eyes widened in sudden understanding.

‘The cloak! Is that…?’ Harry smiled proud of how quickly she’d made the connection, and nodded.

‘I’m telling you, I’m a descendant of the youngest brother, Ignotus Peverell. That’s why I have the cloak. He passed it to his son, who had no sons, so he left it to his eldest daughter, Iolanthe Peverell. I found out this last part recently, doing some research taking advantage of the Ministry’s library. It’s almost as good as the one in Hogwarts, and it has access to stuff they don’t want it being public knowledge as well,’ Harry explained. ‘I’ve been investigating to find out if… if there’s any chance I’ve got living relatives.’

‘Oh, Harry…’

‘It could be. Listen,’ said Harry, ‘Iolanthe was alive between the thirteenth and the fourteenth century. She married Hardwin Potter, who isn’t particularly important in history, but his father was Linfred of Stinchcombe, alias The Potterer, which is where the surname came from. They were from Gloucestershire, and Linfred, he also lived in the twelfth century, and he was a renowned potioneer, made a fortune, which was passed on to his seven children. Seven, Ginny. Seven Potters. Which means at least seven branches to look into.’

‘I suppose it makes sense…’ Ginny looked thoughtful. ‘But sweetie it’s been nine centuries, those branches could’ve died out, or spread out around the world, or lost the surname, making them very hard to track.’

‘I still have to try. So far I found out that Hardwin and Iolanthe have to have had at least a son, for both the cloak and surname to pass on. Then I couldn’t find anything for centuries, it’s really frustrating…’

‘That’s what I mean. You could go mad just trying to find something that’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

‘Yes, but I found Potters further on that have to descend from Linfred as well. For example, in the seventeenth century there was a Potter who was an Auror for the MACUSA in the United States. Abraham Potter.’

‘We don’t know if he’s a descendant from Iolanthe and Hardwin thought.’

‘No,’ Harry admitted thoughtfully. ‘Who is a descendant from them is Henry Potter, and I think I was named after him. He went by Harry, you see? Harry Potter, born in the middle of the nineteenth century.’

‘How do you know?’

‘When I was cleaning up this house, I noticed a Charlus Potter in the Black Family Tree,’ explained Harry. ‘There isn’t much information about him, married Dorea Black, they lived in the twentieth century. But Charlus was mentioned to be a cousin of Henry’s, who was famous for serving as a member of the Wizengamot, the Ministry has loads on information on him because of that. He lived nearly a hundred years, died at around the middle of the XX Century, and served in the Wizengamot from 1913 to 1921, under Minister Archer Evermonde. Henry was controversial because he had pro Muggle views, which really crashed with the government at the time. Because of this, the Potters were kicked out of The Sacred 28. You see Blackheath is very keen on Ron and I learning proper history, so I looked it all up, and apparently, the 28 are all the Pureblood families, the bigger, important ones, like yours, the Longbottoms, the Blacks, the Shacklebolts, or half the Death Eater families.’

‘The Pureblood narrative,’ Ginny nodded. ‘So we haven’t been kicked out? Surprising.’

‘I know. But it was written around the 1930s, so your parents hadn’t dragged the name through the mud yet,’ Harry joked, making Ginny laugh.

‘So how do you know you’re Henry’s descendant?’

‘Because Henry had one son only, Fleamont Potter. And Fleamont Potter… well, he’s my grandfather, Ginny.’

‘Is he?’ Ginny smiled excitedly. ‘That’s a funny name. What’s the story.’

‘Fleamont lived from 1909 to 1979, so I never met him. When he died, Dad was only nineteen.’

‘Poor thing… seems like losing parents young is some sort of family tradition.’

‘That with a bit of luck we’ll break, because my Mum also lost her parents young. One of the very few things I learned about the Evans living with the Dursleys, since they’re Dudley and I’s grandparents, Hamish, which ironically is the Scottish for James, and Poppy Evans. Died in a car accident when Mum was sixteen. No wonder she was rather tough for a teenager…’

‘Merlin…’ Ginny sighed sadly. ‘Didn’t Vernon and Petunia tell you your parents died in a car accident?’

‘Took the inspiration from there I suppose, they were never too original. Anyway…’ Harry played with her hair. ‘Fleamont was the maiden name of Fleamont’s mother, so I imagine she asked for her son to have it as a name, maybe it would’ve otherwise died out. And you might remember I told you he was a renowned potioneer.’

‘The Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion,’ Ginny nodded. ‘I remember. So you at least know your closest relatives, and the ones who started the family tree, which is more than I can say for mine. And you know Henry had to descend from Iolanthe and Hardwin because otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten the cloak that Fleamont, James and you got later. Well done.’

‘Yes. And I know Charlus and Dorea had some children, so if I could find them… there’s still a chance I could have relatives that aren’t so distant to me. They’d be… third cousins or something.’

‘Just don’t go insane looking for them, okay? Even if you do find anyone,’ Ginny caressed his face softly, somewhat concerned, ‘family is not always the way you expect them to be, look at my Aunt Muriel. You might expect them to look like you, to share your ideas, be kind like you, pro-muggle… but you have to remember you are famous and yet no relative has ever contacted you even though if they live, they surely know you exist. Maybe they aren’t proud of you.’

‘Or maybe they don’t know we’re related. Potter is a common name,’ said Harry.

‘Still, just… don’t get high expectations, okay? I just don’t want you to suffer a terrible disappointment, you’ve had enough.’

‘All right,’ Harry nodded, understanding.

‘So this cloak then… is for our firstborn,’ said Ginny nonchalantly. ‘A family heirloom from Ignotus Peverell himself.’

‘That’d be it, yeah,’ Harry agreed, and smiled small at her. ‘Nice to think of that.’

‘You’ll be a terrific father one day,’ Ginny grinned, kissing him sweetly. She could taste the alcohol in his mouth as well as hers, both of them blushed from the large amounts of it.

‘There’s something else about the Deathly Hallows. I’m their last Master,’ Ginny looked stunned at that. ‘Gregorovitch had the wand, which Dumbledore got when he imprisoned Gregorovitch, then Voldemort stole it from his grave, but it never belonged to him because it was Malfoy who disarmed Dumbledore the night he died. Malfoy was the true owner without knowing… and then I disarmed him. Which is why Voldemort’s wand…’

‘Couldn’t kill you.’

‘Exactly. I broke it,’ Harry added, ‘and since it’s the only wand powerful enough to repair other wands, with it broken, it’s irreparable. And it’s back with Dumbledore, its rightful owner. Can I trust you to never tell anyone? Because… you know how disastrous it’d be if it fell in the wrong hands and someone figured out a way to fix it.’

‘Of course,’ Ginny nodded. ‘Of course, my lips are sealed. But why tell me? You’ve kept it for months, after all.’

‘I was waiting for the right time to tell you,’ said Harry. ‘You’re the woman of my dreams Ginny, you’re my present and my future, the one I love, the one I want to have my family with… I don’t want secrets with you. And I hope you don’t keep them from me either.’

Pleased and elated, Ginny beamed, kissing him again.

‘I’m honoured. Pinky promise I won’t keep secrets from you unless they’re surprises,’ she promised, making him grin at her. They kissed for a moment, until Ginny suddenly realised something. ‘Wait you said you had the three? The stone…’

‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded. ‘I saw my parents, Sirius and Remus,’ that truly impressed Ginny.

‘Do you still have it?’

‘No.’

‘You promise,’ Ginny got serious. ‘You know what happened to Cadmus, he went insane and killed himself. You can’t keep it Harry, I know it’s tempting—,’

‘I know, but I promise. It’s somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, and it’s dark and no bigger than a die, so no one will ever find it, I hope,’ said Harry. ‘Besides, almost no one knows it’s there. You, me, Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione. And none of us will ever tell a soul, even our own children, we know those Hallows do more bad than good. And I was alone when I used it and when I dropped it, so no one saw where it fell. Not even me, really. It was before Voldemort sort of killed me, I wanted to see them one last time. Dumbledore found it and he put it in the first Snitch I ever caught, which he left me in his Will, but I only found out how to open it at that last moment, because he’d enchanted it to make sure I wouldn’t open it before I understood I couldn’t keep it. Scrimgeour could never figure it out.’

‘Wisest man ever,’ marvelled Ginny. ‘And you, the purest. I’m proud of you, I know it must’ve cost you so much to let it go.’

‘Not so much, really… how many kids get to say they got to meet their dead parents in some form? And I did,’ Harry grinned, even if the memory caused some sadness too. ‘It was only like one minute, but… even if it had been hours it wouldn’t have felt enough. And it was enough for me to know that they’re all still together, wherever they are, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Sirius…’

‘The Marauders, inseparable,’ Ginny smiled sadly. ‘That’s a nice thought. But you didn’t see Fred?’

‘Nor Tonks. I suppose you can only see those who are really close to you,’ said Harry. ‘But they had to be there too. And they looked so… great. Together. Younger, happier, at peace… they said dying isn’t even painful. So I get to know those we lost, they’re okay. And they’ll wait for us, and that’s… that’s nice, right? We’ll live long, full lives, and when we go to sleep for the last time, we’ll wake up to them. And then we’ll get to tell them all our stories, and spend eternity together. So I could let them go for now… because I know I’ll have forever, eventually.’ Ginny looked quite sad, even though she was smiling through it, and rubbed one eye, looking away. ‘Hey… I don’t want to make you sad… are you thinking of Fred?’

‘I think we’ve all been thinking of Fred, all day,’ admitted Ginny. ‘But actually what made me sad was… just the thought that you have to wait what I hope is a long lifetime to meet them. And that they lost so much too. I mean… we always see it from the point of view of you not knowing them, but they never knew you. And I do, and you’re such an amazing guy anyone would be so proud and happy to be your parent… but they never got to know. Now we have Teddy, and he kind of feels like a son or a nephew, it’s bizarre… and I can’t imagine him being ripped from us. Not getting to see him grow, to know him… must be ten times worse for your parents.’

‘Yeah but they did knew me. They’ve always been there, Mum said they never left. My only hope is they leave when we get intimate,’ Harry attempted a joke, making her half smile. He kissed her cheek, touched by her empathy. ‘They know.’

‘Almost worse. Seeing you all the time, knowing you can’t hear them, seeing you suffer so much and being unable to hold you or comfort you…’

‘But they also saw me fall in love with you, and they know I’m okay. They know I’ve got people here. It’s like being on separate countries… we might be apart, but we know each of us is okay, doing their own thing with their own people… until we see each other again,’ Harry pecked her lips. ‘Let’s get you to bed, I’ll snuggle you until you feel better.’

‘Until we fall asleep. I’ve missed snuggling with you.’

‘Until we fall asleep.’