Chapter One: Reunion at the Burrow

Dear Students,

In light of recent events, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has received numerous questions from concerned parents regarding the status of their children's education. We are pleased to announce that school will resume on August the 29th, 1998. Taking the recent circumstances into account the Board of Directors has come to the conclusion that those seventh year students whose classes were interrupted during the course of the Second Wizarding War will be welcomed back to complete an additional year of training before undergoing their N.E.W.T. examinations. Naturally, for a variety of reasons, students may choose not to continue their schooling, however, one must be advised that no exceptions will be made regarding the entrance criteria required for various positions in the workforce. All returning students are required to present themselves promptly at Platform 9 3/4 at Kings Cross Station at approximately 9 AM Sunday August the 29th .

Sincerely yours,

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

"Blimey, that's early," muttered Ron Weasely as he looked up from his letter to stare rather dejectedly at the bowl of lumpy porridge which his father had managed to conjure earlier that morning.

"Honestly Ron, its not like getting out of bed before noon is going to inflict permanent damage, and the ministry isn't loosening the entrance requirements to become an auror," stated Hermione Granger as she tucked a wayward curl of brown hair behind her ear while skimming the front page of Magic Stars, pausing to inspect a picture of a member of the Weird Sisters who was dancing spasmodically in and out of the photo.

"I know that, its not like you're the only one who can read," snapped the annoyed redhead as he gave a particularly greyish looking chunk of porridge an experimental poke.

Arthur Weasely strode purposefully into the kitchen, casting a despairing look at the mountain of unwashed dishes before nodding in the couple's direction, "Well, I'm off for the day, I'll be back rather late tonight, it's nice to see you again Hermione," he said while grabbing a slightly lopsided hat and mashing it onto his balding head. Hermione opened her mouth to answer but Mr. Weasely had already hurried out the front door and disapparated with a resounding crack.

As soon as Mr. Weasely was safely out the door Ron dumped his congealed breakfast into the dustbin where it landed with an ominous thump. "You don't actually have to eat it, tomorrow just move it around the bowl a bit" he explained to a scandalized looking Hermione while he carefully added his bowl to the precarious pile in the sink and took out a package of Chocolate Frogs. "I dunno what Mum is thinking, leaving Dad in charge of meals, at this rate we'll all be poisoned before the start of term."

"Personally, I think it's brilliant that your Mum's decided to give cooking classes in Hogsmeade," said Hermione resting her head on Ron's shoulder. "People can make lots of money doing that, just look at Julia Childs!"

Following Hermione's long-winded explanation of the muggle celebrity chef, she and Ron continued to squabble over the pros and cons of Molly Weasely's entrance into the work force. Amidst their bickering a bleary, slightly unwashed, Harry Potter descended the stairs, passed by them without comment and poured himself a cup of strong coffee, deftly adding a tablespoon of Mrs. Weasely 's headache potion before retreating to the living room. From his position on the sofa Harry listened to their argument with mild interest and gingerly took a sip of the soothing liquid. He found it rather fascinating that his friends appeared so unaffected by the war; Hermione and Ron were quite content to discuss Mrs. Weasely's employment situation whereas Harry found it difficult to interact with anyone at all. In the immediate aftermath of Lord Voldemort's defeat he had happily celebrated with the rest of the wizarding world. Nevertheless, two months later, Harry was forced to admit that he was spending far too much time with his face above the distasteful, violet hued, toilet of the Hogshead, a local bar, regurgitating a rather revolting mixture of butterbeer and firewhiskey.

Surreptitiously glancing into the living room at Harry who, with his knees drawn up to his chest looked, on the whole, rather pathetic, Hermione gave Ron a questioning look, "You said he's been like this all summer?" she whispered.

"Pretty much," the redhead muttered with shrug, wrapping his arm around Hermione. "Look, it's not that I don't care, it's just that we've tried everything, I've tried, Ginny's tried, Mum's tried, but it hasn't done any good, maybe he'll come out of it when Hogwarts reopens."

"If he even realizes school starting again," said the young witch with a worried look. Peering into her envelop a second time Hermione removed the standard list of school supplies and regarded it closely, "Well, we have to go to Diagon Alley this weekend to get textbooks, and I need a new set of potion supplies and dress robes," After a slight pause she added with a forced optimism, "Maybe a change of scenery will cheer him up." Ron cast a dubious look into the living room at Harry, who now appeared to be staring into the space with a slightly nauseated expression on his face, and didn't even bother to answer.

The next four days at the burrow continued in the same vain with Ron and Hermione occupying themselves quietly, Mr. Weasely and Mrs. Weasely spending the majority of their time at work, and an ever increasing pile of sullied crockery and lack of adequate food. Ginny, Ron's younger sister, was often absent as she had found herself a summer job in Hogsmeade and regularly opted to spend the night at her brother, George's, apartment above Weaselys' Wizard Wheezes. Harry, for his part, had continued his routine of waking up in the early afternoon and sitting, in a rather trance like state, in the living room until Mr. And Mrs. Weasely would return from work, at which point, in order to avoid their concerned faces, he would quickly disapparate to the Hogshead. Often he would not reappear until the following morning via Floo at the instance of the friendly but firm barman who declared that he was in a far too inebriated stated to attempt apparation.

On a bright and cool Saturday morning Hermione, Ron, and Ginny sat around the breakfast table arguing in hushed tones. After several minutes a clearly exasperated Ginny suggested that they draw straws, the loser, Hermione, was thus sent upstairs to wake Harry with coffee and a strong hangover potion. Half an hour later they apparated into Diagon Alley and the trio, with a pale and sickly Harry Potter trailing behind, winded their way up the familiar cobblestone street.

"Demelza just reminded me of something," said Ginny with a slight frown after she emerging from an energetic hug with her friend and fellow teammate. "Does anyone have any idea why we have to be at the station so bleeding early, normally we get on the train well after noon, not at nine o'clock in the morning?" Glancing behind her Ginny noticed that Harry appeared to have made a dash for a grubby looking bar and Ron, after of a moment of deliberation, gave Ginny and Hermione bewildered wave and disappeared into the pub in search of his wayward friend.

"I suppose they must be making some sort of announcement to do with the war, but it's true that we'll probably arrive there just after lunch, which certainly seems to leave a lot of time for speeches," remarked Hermione looking from Ginny to the entrance of the Three Broomsticks.

"Oh well, we'll figure it out when we get there, off to Madame Malkin's for dress robes?" asked Ginny nonplussed.

"Right, I nearly forgot," said Hermione as she observed her friend out the corner of her eye. Hermione had to conclude that although the war had changed each one of them Ginny's transformation was the most remarkable. Striding down Diagon Alley with her robe hanging open to reveal dark, form fitting, jeans and a soft, black, cashmere sweater, her sparkling brown eyes rimmed in a light brown pencil, and a mass of glistening red hair piled on top of her head, the occasional curling tendril escaping, Ginny Weasely was the picture of confidence. As the pair entered Madame Malkin's and began flipping throw the rows of dress robes Hermione was unable to suppress her curiosity, "Ginny, I was wondering. . . well I didn't really think it was the right kind of thing to ask in a letter, or in front of Ron. . . but what exactly happened between you and Harry?" she asked tentatively.

Ginny sighed but looked unsurprised by the question. "It's not that I don't care about Harry, I do, it's just that I spent what, five years of my existence pinning over him, just to finally get him and to have him disappear less than a month later. Last year, when he left, everything was so uncertain, we didn't even know if we were going to come out of the war alive. Then, when it finally ended, I had already changed too much . . ." stated Ginny holding out a light green robe for inspection. "I guess loving Harry wasn't really what I thought it would be, maybe it's selfish but I want to have fun, life's too short to be in love with someone as screwed up as Harry Potter." As if designed to illustrate her point at that moment the doors to Madam Malkin's swung open to reveal weary looking Ron and a stumbling Harry who took one look at a mannequin in the entrance of the store sporting an extraordinarily flamboyant set of dress robes in swirling pink and orange and promptly threw up all over his shoes.

Comparatively speaking the remainder of their excursion to Diagon Alley went surprisingly well. Ron, swearing quite colourfully following Harry's memorable entrance quickly ushered his friend towards the back of the store, asking the startled shopkeeper for directions to the toilet. Meanwhile, Ginny performed a variety of scourifying charms on the once pristine hardwood flors, cursing quietly to herself every few minutes. Hermione, shocked into silence, continued to gape at the scene in front of her until, out of the corner of her, a witch wearing a particularly garish set of turquoise robes caught her attention. Turning her head to inspect the woman more closely, she let out a piercing shriek. Ginny, still working on the floor, gave a slight jerk and shot her friend a questioning look just as Ron popped his head around the bathroom door. Glancing around the store and seeing nothing out of place a curious expressing crossed Ron's face, as though he was considering sending both Hermione and Harry to St Mungo's ward for the Seriously Disturbed where they could happily share a room.

"Mione...?" He asked tentatively.

"That, that woman," she spat out furiously. Taking in Ron and Ginny's twin expressions of utter incomprehension she wisely close to elaborate, "Rita Skeeter," she cried, "of all the people to be standing outside the window it just had to be her. Oh dear, oh lord, what are we going to do? It will be all over the papers, Harry will be so embarrassed..."

"Don't you read the Daily Prophet every day Hermione?" Ginny cut in, slightly impatiently.

"Of course I do, everybody does, that's exactly why..." Hermione trailed off her forehead wrinkling slightly in confusion. "Well actually, I guess my parents stopped ordering the wizarding papers during the war, security and all that. I can't believe I never realized, its going to take me weeks to catch up..."

At that moment Harry rounded the corner and looked at Hermione expressionlessly, "Don't worry Hermione, everyone is aware that the Boy Who Lived has become Hogsmeade's resident drunk, Rita Skeeter dedicated a whole two pages to 'the situation' earlier this month."

Harry then strode, slightly lopsidedly, through the front gate of Madam Malkin's and promptly disapparated.

There was a long awkward pause before Ron took in Hermione's hurt expression and helpfully suggested that they all apparate to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. In less than a second they had appeared in the small wizarding village near Hogwarts and wandered, rather speechless, across the street and pushed open the heavy wooden door, and were thankful greeted with delicious smells and a smiling Madam Rosmerta.

"Well, if it is my favourite barmaid," she said ushering them towards a secluded table in the far right hand corner of the room. "Everything is on me this afternoon, what can I get you?"

"Roz, really its not necessary," Ginny protested turning slightly pink at the compliment.

"Honestly, you all look like you've had a rough day," Rosmerta said as she fished beneath the counter and appeared with three mugs of butterbeer. "The first three are on me, after that you're on your own, however. Do try and cheer up," she added sternly giving the three of them a motherly look before sweeping off to serve the other customers.

The three of them sat and sipped until their mugs were nearly half empty before any of them felt like talking. "So Harry's issues are all over the papers?" Hermione asked rather redundantly.

Ron nodded, "I wouldn't take it personally Hermione, he speaks to everyone in exactly that tone, as if he's reading lists of potion ingredients instead of actually holding a conversation," he said reaching over and giving Hermione's knee a slight squeeze of reassurance under the table.

"Well," said Ginny in a rather exasperated tone, "Now that Harry's issues have cut into our shopping time I doubt we will ever have a chance to get everything we need and I completely forgot to buy new dress robes when we were leaving Madam Malkin's"

Ron leaned on his hand and sighed, "I can't imagine why they would ask us to bring dress robes unless it meant were going to have another horrendous ball," he said morosely.

"Oh come on Ron, look on the bright side, at least this time I'm going with you and not Victor so there will be no need for you to storm off in a tiff," Hermione teased. Ron shot her a look before dabbing his finger in his butterbeer foam and flicking it in her general direction surprising both of them when it landed with a splat on her forehead and trickled into her eyebrows. Hermione looked momentarily stunned before bursting into laughter.

"Oh you two are a lot of help," Ginny groused.

"Well even if there is a ball I don't plan on buying new robes, they're far too expensive," said Hermione practically.

"Money apparently isn't an issue when one's a barmaid," Ron explained. "She almost makes more than dad, it's absolutely ridiculous." Hermione took in Ginny's ample curves, full lips, and spiralling curls, and simultaneously decided that Ginny's success was, in fact perfectly logical, and that she would certainly not be the one to inform Ron of his sister's considerable assets.

After their break at the Three Broomsticks, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, returned to Diagon Alley to continue gathering supplies for the following school year. Ginny first stopped at the apothecary to restock her potions supplies and then they all entered Florish and Botts in search of textbooks. Ron and Hermione's list included a standard set of potions, transfigurations, and charms books at an ever more advanced level. These basics were then supplemented by two slightly more daunting texts, The Philosophy of Magic: The Greeks to Postmodernism by Amelia Bones (compiled post-mortem), and The Theoretical and Technical Application of Healing by Erasus Buldiplanc. Ginny purchased the standard set of seventh year texts and, without a moments hesitation, a set of eighth year texts to take back to Harry; her generosity was later explained when she revealed that she knew exactly where he kept his bag of gallons. After a brief stop an the pet store for food for both Crookshanks, Hermione's orange monstrosity, and Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl, they made their way back to the Burrow.