The Return

Almost three months had passed since the victorious battle that killed Lord Voldemort. Harry, Ron and Hermione-The Golden trio-had spent their time since the battle in between recuperating at the Burrow surrounded by the loving Weasley family and refurbishing Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Despite what they had all been through, they still wanted to fulfil their desired prospects. Harry and Ron both dreamed of becoming the best Aurors in the Ministry of Magic while Hermione dreamed of becoming the first female Minister of Magic. However, vanquishing the Dark Lord was not enough for them to achieve such careers. The only way to venture towards their career paths was with formal qualifications; they had to complete their final N.E.W.T exams.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! Where the fuck is my potions book?" yelled Harry from Sirius's old room on the highest floor.

Ron and Hermione, who had taken to walking arms over one another's shoulder's everywhere they went only separating when dressing and defecating, approached Harry who was practically turning his room upside-down looking for his lost potions book.

"I don't know, Harry. You seem to be having a hard time looking for it," said Ron.

"Oh, no shit, Sherlock! Would it seriously kill you to not be a 'Captain Obvious' all the time?" Harry replied throwing papers and socks and shoes and books into the air in a bid to find his old potions book.

"Perhaps you left it at your aunt and uncle's house before we left with everyone else on your birthday last year."

Harry paused in his steps and stared deep in anguished thought. "Oh no. No, oh please no."

"Oh, Harry, you silly billy," Ron chuckled beaming at Hermione.

"What did you just call me?" asked Harry, fuming.

"I-err, a sil-"

"Listen, I'm very happy that after almost seven years you guys finally got over your sexual frustration and have since found happiness with each other but if you don't cut that cutesy-wutesy language that I've had to put up with since for any longer I will make it so that you, Ron, wake up tomorrow morning hung upside-down by your balls!"

"Eeep," Ron whimpered.

"Hermione, uh-"

"I think you may find, Harry, that society forbids you to make any threat against me given that I am a woman," said Hermione.

"Shut up," was all he could think of to say in reply.

"Well, Harry, if your book is at your aunt and uncle's house," she continued, "chances are that they've probably gotten rid of it along with the rest of your belongings that you left behind. I think we ought to take another trip to Diagon Alley and make sure we all get everything we need."

"That's just you isn't it," said Ron beaming at her and hugging her closer towards him, "full of good ideas. That's why I love you."

"I love you too, my Ron," replied Hermione as they both rubbed noses together while Harry motioned a gun shooting him in his head with his hand.

The trio then went to the basement kitchen to inform Kreacher. "We'll be back before dark," said Harry.

"How's Winky going?" asked Ron.

"I managed to clean her up a little after she drank almost all the spirits she found in the wall covered by a painting in my mistress's room and she's sleeping it off now," Kreacher replied.

"Oh, the poor thing," gasped Hermione.

"She has been a wreck since Dobby died," said Kreacher in his grave bullfrog voice.

"It's mighty strange to be looking after her after not hearing about her in years," commented Ron. "I just assumed she had drunk herself to death like everyone else did."

"It's ironic that Aberforth had been looking after her all along with Dobby these past few years," said Hermione.

"Why is that so ironic?" asked Ron.

"Because she would have been staying in a bar," she paused, "surrounded by alcohol, Ron, come on."

"What's even more ironic is that she managed to come clean while she was staying there," said Harry and all four nodded in agreement.

"Only to relapse after hearing of Dobby's death. Oh the irony," said Ron.

"That's not ironic," said Kreacher.

"How?"

"Christ, Ron, and you want to be an Auror?" said Harry.

"Leave him alone, Harry, only I can call him names," said Hermione again beaming at Ron.

"I love it when you call me names, babe-"

"Okay! Can we disparate now?" said Harry.

After a few hours, when the three best friends had bought everything they needed and decided to wind down in the Leaky Cauldron, they ran into their old Gryffindor Quidditch team captain Oliver Wood.

"Oliver, we haven't seen you since the battle. How have you been?"

Oliver sat at their table opposite Hermione and Ron and next to Harry who was drinking heavily to distract him from the coddling and nuzzling going on opposite him.

"So, Oliver," he slurred, "How did that thing you had going with Angelina Johnson go?"

"Uh, we called it quits when I found out that she thought Star Wars was a better sci-fi trilogy than Back to the Future. I mean, I watched Star Wars a few months ago and all I liked about it was Chewbacca. Angie and I started falling out when I fell asleep in that scene where Darth Vader tells Luke Skywalker that he's his father."

"Well that's fucking marvellous," said Harry after a long pause between them all.

"Have you guys heard the news?" asked Oliver.

"What news?" said Hermione.

"That a whole heap of ex-students are coming back next year," said Oliver.

"Well, duh, of course we knew that," said Harry, "We're three of them, you douche," he chuckled.

"Forgive him, Oliver," said Hermione, "he's had a bit to drink."

"I'm not talking about the muggle-borns and people who missed out last year because of the war," said Oliver, "I'm talking about this teaching programme that Hogwarts has adopted."

"What the bloody hell are you on about, Woody," said Harry, still chuckling.

"A few ex-students have been invited to teach a few subjects this year and some are coming as guidance counsellors. I'm coming as a Quidditch teacher," Oliver explained.

"Do you really miss Hogwarts that much?" asked Ron.

"A bit, but we'll all be getting paid good money and free food and board. Who would pass that up?"

"Do you know anyone else who is going on that programme?" asked Hermione.

"Katie Bell will be there and Alicia Spinnet. Not Angelina, thank god. Ebenezer Hillforth, he was the captain of Slytherin that first game you played, Harry."

"The bastard," murmured Harry and took a swig of Firewhiskey from his glass.

"…and one last girl called Chang, Cho Chang. That's her name."

At the mention of her name Harry choked on his drink and went into a coughing fit.

"Easy, Harry," said Oliver patting him on the back. "Those are the only ones I remember off the top of my head, though," he said. "I think one of them is related to McGonagall. Her nephew or something."

"Well," began Hermione smirking at Harry, "There will certainly be a bit of drama for us all this year."

"By the way," said Oliver to Harry, "What happened to you and Ginny? I heard it's over or something."

"She said she wanted a break," said Harry, "It is not over."

"Okay, Harry, easy does it," said Oliver.

"Ginny has gone to live in my Aunty Muriel's seaside cottage in France for the next few months. She inherited it after she died," explained Ron.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Oliver.

"To be honest it was a huge relief for all of us. Stupid old bat-"

"Ron, don't say that about your aunt, that's horrible," shrieked Hermione.

"Easy for you to say, you never had to put up with her for as long as I did."

"Oh, really, Ron…."

As the happy couple continued to argue, Harry could only think about the year ahead of him and the train to Hogwarts he was to catch in two weeks.