THROUGH A SILVER MIST
DISCLAIMER: all story : the characters and places are mostly JK Rowlings but since I am not JK Rowling I don't get paid for them! So please don't sue me (
WARNING: STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR OOTP!!!!!
ONE/A MISTAKE IN THE FLU NETWORK
Harry Potter stared out the window, watching the traffic pass on the London streets below. It was his birthday today, but no one was coming. No one would call and tell him they were happy for him, or send him a cake with chocolate frosting and little candy letters on top. He probably wouldn't even get a paper clip from the Dursleys- they'd stopped sending him gifts ages ago.
But what Harry missed most, today in particular, were the letters Ron and Hermione would send him as a kid. The encouraging notes to "tough it out" at the Dursleys' and promises to see him at the burrow always lifted his spirits. It was just the thing he needed on his birthday back in those days.
These days too, if you were going to be perfectly honest. It had been nine years since Ron and Hermione had sent him notes on his birthday, though at no mistake on their part. It was entirely Harry's fault that he didn't receive letters anymore, and he knew that perfectly well, however much it pained him to have that thought in mind. When he'd walked out on them years ago, he'd given them all the reason in the world not to speak to him again. Even encouraged it. When Ron had sent letters right after he left, Harry had just thrown them out unopened, or sent them back with Ron's now very fat owl, Pig. Eventually, they'd stopped coming.
Sighing deeply, Harry pulled back from the rain-streaked, dark window and headed into his brightly-lit kitchen. Didn't it just figure that it was raining on his birthday. It seemed to be mocking him, reminding him that he was alone today.
Taking a pan from where it hung on the wall and setting it on a clean, white countertop, Harry took two eggs from the refrigerator. He ate in so often, so as not to be recognized by any witches or wizards disguised as Muggles, that it shouldn't have seemed sad that he was alone tonight. But it did.
Cracking the eggs and spreading them around in the pan, Harry went to find some cheese to add to his omelet. Digging around in the fridge, he came up with a small block of French cheese. There wasn't nearly enough to make a good omelet.
Nearly throwing the cheese back with frustration, Harry put it away and closed the door. Turning the heat off on the stove, he picked up the pan and poured the now semi-sticky eggs down the sink. He put the pan in next, then went back to his living room.
Well, if he couldn't have his omelet, he was definitely going to have a nice fire to sit in front of. He picked up the matches and struck them against the box, then lit the logs that were in his fireplace.
The thing he liked most about his new flat was that it had a fireplace in the living area. He'd missed having one, after growing accustomed to sitting in front of the one that blazed in the Gryffindor common room nightly.
Finally, the flames picked up a bit, and Harry settled back onto the couch, staring into the orange-yellow fire. A small, slightly funny memory crossed his mind as he thought of divination lessons in sixth year, when Professor Trelawny had taught them to scry by fire. Of course, she'd wasted no time telling him that she saw his death in the near future, but here was, ten years later, alive and kicking.
Well, maybe not kicking, but he was alive.
A soft hooting startled Harry, and he realized that Hedwig had flown in from where she'd been sleeping on her perch and settled on the nearby floor lamp.
"Hullo, Hedwig," Harry greeted her softly. She hooted again and flew over to his outstretched arm, flapping a bit to keep her balance.
"Nice birthday, huh?" Hedwig nipped his finger in sympathy.
"Oh, well," Harry said, stroking Hedwig's snow-white feathers absently. "There's always next year."
He snorted a small laugh as he said it, though. He knew he'd be in this very same spot next year, or if not here, then he'd be alone somewhere else.
Hedwig hooted again and took off from his arm, flying to the bedroom, indicating that she wanted to go out. Harry stood slowly to let her out the back window, where no one would see her fly away through the rooftops.
Coming back into the living room, he sat in front of the fire again. It seemed that even Hedwig was going to be gone for his birthday.
Watching the flames, Harry recalled a time, maybe five years ago, when he'd been living in Lyon, France, and Hedwig had brought back a dead mouse for a birthday present. She hadn't done that since she was a young owl, and Harry was sure she'd meant it as a joke to brighten up his day. She'd nipped his finger good-naturedly when he'd laughed at her. Owls really didn't get enough credit, Harry thought. They're smarter than people think.
Harry frowned slightly as a small bit of soot fell from the chimney, dropping onto the flames and putting a few out. A moment later, though, the fire was blazing again, and Harry relaxed again.
As he sat on the couch, Harry wondered where Ron was right now, and what he was doing. Hopefully he was well, wherever his best friend was. And there was no need to worry about Hermione. Harry's throat tightened a bit at the thought of his lost friend. It was all his fault she'd been killed, just before the last duel with Voldemort. She'd never even lived to see him be defeated, though it was rather because of her that Harry had been able to kill the dark lord.
Harry's throat tightened more. The pain of loosing a friend never goes away completely. And when you're sad and lonely already, as Harry was, it just seems worse.
The flames before Harry jumped higher with the rush of wind, and Harry started. When the flames didn't calm down again, Harry thought about running to get some water. But before he could move, the flames became tinted a greenish color. With another burst of wind, they went out. But the fireplace wasn't empty.
"R-Ron?" Harry said in disbelief as a red-haired man stood coughing and spitting ash out of his mouth. At the sound of Harry's voice, the man looked up.
"Harry?" The man looked at Harry first with suspicion, then wonder, then, cracking a huge grin, the man shouted "HARRY!"
In a matter of seconds the two were hugging, however un-manly of them it may have seemed. There's nothing like being reunited with your childhood best friend.
"I don't believe it! Harry, what are you doing here?" Ron said, stepping back and smiling at his friend. Harry grinned.
"I should ask you the same thing."
"I was trying to get to Harold Petorny's for a business trip, but it's been so long since I used the flu, I must not have spoken clearly enough."
"That's odd," Harry commented. "Don't I have to be connected to the network? I'm sure I'm not."
"Oh well, who cares? Harry this is unbelievable! Wait until Ginny and the family hears you're back, they'll be ecstatic!"
Harry's smile faded a bit, and Ron didn't miss it. His grin imitated Harry's, and he narrowed his eyes. The sudden excitement was extinguished quickly.
"You ARE going to come back, aren't you?" They stared at each other in silence for a few minutes.
"I can't, Ron," Harry said after a moment. "I can't go back to that way of life. It's too painful, and I'm too dangerous-"
"Oy, Harry, come off it!" Ron said, his voiced raised a bit. "I don't care what Dumbledore says anymore, I'm not letting you live your life as a hermit in some Muggle town. Harry you HAVE to come back."
"Hang on a sec, what's Dumbledore got to do with it?"
Ron's eyes flared, and he said, "Dumbledore told me I shouldn't go after you when you left. Said you needed time to yourself, time to realize where you had to be. But it doesn't look as if you've realized it, so here, I'll help you. You belong in the wizarding world, Harry. What would your parents think if they knew the hero who'd outsmarted You-Know-Who eight times, and finally caused his death, was living alone in London?"
"I'm not alone," Harry put in feebly. "I have Hedwig."
Ron snorted. "That's good company all right. Harry, I'm not leaving this flat without you, you ARE coming back."
Harry stood still a moment. Hadn't he just been thinking, no less than ten minutes ago, how much he'd missed hearing from Ron? And how many times had he wished he could just apparate somewhere instead of taking the subway, or put a simple charm on the broom to make housework go faster? He sighed.
"Please, Harry." Ron gazed at his best friend, silently pleading to God, Allah, whoever was listening, that he come back.
Harry noted the look of pain in Ron's eyes, as though it was hurting him to think of letting his best friend go again. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad just to go back to the Burrow, at least, and see the Weasleys. Yes, that's what he'd do. He'd have a nice birthday dinner, and when they all fell asleep that night he'd make his escape.
Sighing, Harry nodded. Ron broke into a huge grin.
"Great, come on then! We'll use the flu to get to the Burrow! God, wait until Ginny sees you again, and what'll mum do?"
Still chattering, Ron pulled Harry towards the fireplace and took a small pouch from his robe pocket. Throwing a bit of what looked like dust into the fire, he said, "You first."
Harry nervously approached the fireplace- it'd been so long- yet he remembered all of the important instructions that he'd ignored years ago, when he ended up somewhere in Knockturn Alley. Back before he knew Sirius. Harry's heart gave a twinge at the memory of his godfather; he quickly focused his mind. He spoke quite clearly, "The Burrow."
Suddenly the flames shot up around Harry, engulfing him in green light, and he was whisked away through the flu network. Passing grate after grate, Harry grinned to himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he was enjoying the ride. The subway was nothing compared to this.
Reaching the Weasley's, he stepped dizzily out of the fireplace and shook the soot from his hair, though it was invisible in the black mess. Taking his glasses off, he very ineffectively wiped them on his sooty shirt.
"Arthur, is that you?" Molly Weasley's voice called out from the kitchen. Footsteps signaled to Harry that she was coming towards him, though he made no move to leave. Instead, a broad grin broke out across his face.
"I was just saying to Ginny that you should be getting home about now, she's been waiting fo-"
Mrs. Weasley had reached the living room area and stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth hanging open and a dish towel hanging limply from her clutched fist.
"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, grinning even wider. It was like seeing his own mother again, maybe better.
Mrs. Weasley stared another second, then let out a loud shriek. Hurrying to Harry, she wrapped him up in a hug and repeatedly kissed his face. Tears streamed down her own cheeks as she stumbled over her words, "Harry, Harry, you're back, where on Earth did you come from? Welcome home Harry, oh you must be awful after that terrible flu trip, let me get you a towel-" she laughed and handed him the one she was holding.
"Mum?" Ginny's voice called from the kitchen, concerned. "Are you all right?"
"Ginny! Ginny come quick!" Molly called to her daughter. "You won't believe who's here! It's Harry!"
"Harry?" Ginny's voice sounded disbelieving. The sound of shuffling indicated she was coming into the room as she mumbled, "Good joke, Mum, I think you're cracking u-"
She stopped dead in the doorway as Harry grinned at her, her eyes wide.
"H-harry?" Ginny stared.
"Hey, Ginny," Harry responded, carefully untangling himself from Mrs. Weasley's clutches and making his way over to the rather rounded Ginny. It took Harry a minute to realize-
"Ginny, you're pregnant!" Ginny nodded slowly, as though still not believing Harry could possibly be standing just in front of her.
From behind came the sound of Ron entering through the chimney, a broad smile on his face.
"Ah, I'm glad you've seen everyone again. Well, everyone who's here. Dad should be home soon for dinner."
"Supper!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, suddenly remembering the food frying on the stove. She ran back into the kitchen, but not before saying, "Welcome back, Harry."
"Thanks," Harry responded. Ron looked from Ginny to Harry and back before saying, "You know, Ginny, you're married. You can't look at him like that."
The Ginny Harry had first met would have turned bright red and run off, but times had changed, and so had Ginny. She rounded on her brother, saying, "Ronald Weasley, I'm not looking at Harry in any sort of way except that I'm glad that he's back. Now you march your stupid arse into the kitchen and wash up for dinner, Mum and I made dumplings tonight."
Ron held up his hands and walked towards the kitchen, Harry following behind.
"More like mum every day," Ron muttered.
"I heard that!" came Ginny's voice from behind them. Harry laughed.
"Wash up and we'll eat, we can't wait around for your father these days," Mrs. Weasley said, summoning a stack of dishes with her wand and directing them towards the table.
As Ron and Harry went to wash their hands like obedient school boys, Ron said, "Later you'll have to see me and Cecilia's flat, it's a bit girly, but the den's nice enough. I've managed to put enough quidditch posters up to cover the horrid flowered wallpaper."
Harry smiled, then asked, "Cecilia?"
"Ah, my girlfriend," Ron said. "Met her at the ministry when I started working for dad."
Harry was silent a moment, processing this information. Years ago he would have sworn that Ron and Hermione would be married someday, but after Hermione went-
"You're thinking about Hermione, aren't you?" Ron said. It wasn't really a question, more of a statement. He continued, "Because I decided years back that with you and Hermione gone I may as well move on with my life. And Cecilia is a great girl, I think I might propose to her."
"Please," Ginny said, joining the boys to wash her own hands. She looked at Harry, "He's been saying that for years. And they STILL aren't engaged."
"How come?"
"Just haven't had the right opportunity," Ron said, then turning oddly silent and very red, he dried his hands and went to the table.
Ginny moved closer to Harry and said under her breath, "He still loves Hermione. He denies it, but I used to hear him at night, for years until he moved out of the burrow. He had dreams about her, where he tried to save her but she never lived. It broke my heart."
Harry studied Ginny carefully, then sighed.
"I miss her," Harry said. Ginny gave him a sad smile.
"And we missed YOU, Harry. Then again, you came back. And we're all glad you did."
Harry smiled and left Ginny at the sink, sitting next to Ron at the familiar kitchen table and eagerly awaiting dinner, suddenly very, very hungry. He couldn't help but remember his attempt at an omelet a half an hour ago. How weird that 30 minutes in the past he'd had no idea Ron would show up in his living room.
The only thing that was missing from this was Hermione. His memories of Ron had always included Hermione. After all, in seventh year she and Ron were quite the popular couple, though neither would admit they were dating. Casual get-togethers was what Hermione called the dinners they had together. Harry shook his head sadly.
"What?" Ron asked, eyeing his best friend suspiciously. "You aren't going to run out on us again, are you?"
Harry looked at his friend and chose not to answer the question, for just thinking of Hermione made him remember why he'd left in the first place. Why he couldn't stay here.
"If you think you're leaving again, you're gravely mistaken," Mrs. Weasley only half-joked, bringing supper to the table. "You belong here."
Harry only wished he could be as sure of that as she was.
****************
Thousands of miles away, Albus Dumbledore looked up as an owl swooped through an open window.
"Ah, Druscela," Dumbledore said, petting the owl as it landed on it's perch. "Have you got word from the ministry?"
The owl hooted and held out a foot proudly, a note wrapped around it.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said, patting the bird's head a few times and unrolling the note.
"Professor Dumbledore-
"I've just heard from the Department of Mysteries and they've just finished the Audelas I was telling you about. I was wondering if you'd have any use for one, as only select wizards are being invited to test it out. Your official invitation will be sent in a few days, but I thought perhaps you'd like to know ahead of time.
"-Tonks."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows as he read this, surprised that the Audelas were ready so soon but in no way displeased. In fact-
"Professor?" Minerva McGonagall's voice came from the doorway, and Dumbledore called her in.
"I've just received a very curious owl from Ms Ginny Weasley."
"Ah, I was thinking one of us might," Dumbledore looked pleased. "Though I do believe she goes by Mrs. Thomas these days."
"In any case," McGonagall said, impatient to tell him the news she'd just heard, "She claims that just an hour ago Harry Potter returned to the magical world. Do you think it's true?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I know it is."
McGonagall looked baffled.
"It happens to be a certain Mr. Potter's birthday today," Dumbledore explained. "I thought he'd like some company, so I arranged for Ron to visit a Mr. Harold Petorny via the flu."
"I don't see what that has to do with-"
Dumbledore continued on as though McGonagall hadn't spoken, "I also had Harry's fireplace attached to the flu network under Mr. Petorny's name."
"Ah, I see," McGonagall said. "Do you suppose he will stay with us this time around?"
"We can only hope, Minerva," Dumbledore said, glancing again at the letter from Tonks. He had a feeling Harry would be sticking around a long while, just as soon as he called him and Ron Weasley in for a little conference about a certain invention called an Audela.
"McGonagall, I don't suppose I could borrow your owl? Mine's just left, and I have a letter I'd like to be received tonight."
***********************
A/N: So there's chapter one! Here's a little overview of what happens in this short lil' fic: Harry and Ron attempt to retreave Hermione from beyond the silver mist, explained next chapter. Along the way they meet several deceased friends (including Maggie, for anyone who read The Girl with the Emerald Eyes or Emeralds and Diamonds) and Harry begins to rethink his relationship with Hermione, wondering what he'll do if he ever does see her again. But R/Hermione fans don't despair, things may just work out-
I hope you like it! Please review either way!
Luv, Cassi
DISCLAIMER: all story : the characters and places are mostly JK Rowlings but since I am not JK Rowling I don't get paid for them! So please don't sue me (
WARNING: STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR OOTP!!!!!
ONE/A MISTAKE IN THE FLU NETWORK
Harry Potter stared out the window, watching the traffic pass on the London streets below. It was his birthday today, but no one was coming. No one would call and tell him they were happy for him, or send him a cake with chocolate frosting and little candy letters on top. He probably wouldn't even get a paper clip from the Dursleys- they'd stopped sending him gifts ages ago.
But what Harry missed most, today in particular, were the letters Ron and Hermione would send him as a kid. The encouraging notes to "tough it out" at the Dursleys' and promises to see him at the burrow always lifted his spirits. It was just the thing he needed on his birthday back in those days.
These days too, if you were going to be perfectly honest. It had been nine years since Ron and Hermione had sent him notes on his birthday, though at no mistake on their part. It was entirely Harry's fault that he didn't receive letters anymore, and he knew that perfectly well, however much it pained him to have that thought in mind. When he'd walked out on them years ago, he'd given them all the reason in the world not to speak to him again. Even encouraged it. When Ron had sent letters right after he left, Harry had just thrown them out unopened, or sent them back with Ron's now very fat owl, Pig. Eventually, they'd stopped coming.
Sighing deeply, Harry pulled back from the rain-streaked, dark window and headed into his brightly-lit kitchen. Didn't it just figure that it was raining on his birthday. It seemed to be mocking him, reminding him that he was alone today.
Taking a pan from where it hung on the wall and setting it on a clean, white countertop, Harry took two eggs from the refrigerator. He ate in so often, so as not to be recognized by any witches or wizards disguised as Muggles, that it shouldn't have seemed sad that he was alone tonight. But it did.
Cracking the eggs and spreading them around in the pan, Harry went to find some cheese to add to his omelet. Digging around in the fridge, he came up with a small block of French cheese. There wasn't nearly enough to make a good omelet.
Nearly throwing the cheese back with frustration, Harry put it away and closed the door. Turning the heat off on the stove, he picked up the pan and poured the now semi-sticky eggs down the sink. He put the pan in next, then went back to his living room.
Well, if he couldn't have his omelet, he was definitely going to have a nice fire to sit in front of. He picked up the matches and struck them against the box, then lit the logs that were in his fireplace.
The thing he liked most about his new flat was that it had a fireplace in the living area. He'd missed having one, after growing accustomed to sitting in front of the one that blazed in the Gryffindor common room nightly.
Finally, the flames picked up a bit, and Harry settled back onto the couch, staring into the orange-yellow fire. A small, slightly funny memory crossed his mind as he thought of divination lessons in sixth year, when Professor Trelawny had taught them to scry by fire. Of course, she'd wasted no time telling him that she saw his death in the near future, but here was, ten years later, alive and kicking.
Well, maybe not kicking, but he was alive.
A soft hooting startled Harry, and he realized that Hedwig had flown in from where she'd been sleeping on her perch and settled on the nearby floor lamp.
"Hullo, Hedwig," Harry greeted her softly. She hooted again and flew over to his outstretched arm, flapping a bit to keep her balance.
"Nice birthday, huh?" Hedwig nipped his finger in sympathy.
"Oh, well," Harry said, stroking Hedwig's snow-white feathers absently. "There's always next year."
He snorted a small laugh as he said it, though. He knew he'd be in this very same spot next year, or if not here, then he'd be alone somewhere else.
Hedwig hooted again and took off from his arm, flying to the bedroom, indicating that she wanted to go out. Harry stood slowly to let her out the back window, where no one would see her fly away through the rooftops.
Coming back into the living room, he sat in front of the fire again. It seemed that even Hedwig was going to be gone for his birthday.
Watching the flames, Harry recalled a time, maybe five years ago, when he'd been living in Lyon, France, and Hedwig had brought back a dead mouse for a birthday present. She hadn't done that since she was a young owl, and Harry was sure she'd meant it as a joke to brighten up his day. She'd nipped his finger good-naturedly when he'd laughed at her. Owls really didn't get enough credit, Harry thought. They're smarter than people think.
Harry frowned slightly as a small bit of soot fell from the chimney, dropping onto the flames and putting a few out. A moment later, though, the fire was blazing again, and Harry relaxed again.
As he sat on the couch, Harry wondered where Ron was right now, and what he was doing. Hopefully he was well, wherever his best friend was. And there was no need to worry about Hermione. Harry's throat tightened a bit at the thought of his lost friend. It was all his fault she'd been killed, just before the last duel with Voldemort. She'd never even lived to see him be defeated, though it was rather because of her that Harry had been able to kill the dark lord.
Harry's throat tightened more. The pain of loosing a friend never goes away completely. And when you're sad and lonely already, as Harry was, it just seems worse.
The flames before Harry jumped higher with the rush of wind, and Harry started. When the flames didn't calm down again, Harry thought about running to get some water. But before he could move, the flames became tinted a greenish color. With another burst of wind, they went out. But the fireplace wasn't empty.
"R-Ron?" Harry said in disbelief as a red-haired man stood coughing and spitting ash out of his mouth. At the sound of Harry's voice, the man looked up.
"Harry?" The man looked at Harry first with suspicion, then wonder, then, cracking a huge grin, the man shouted "HARRY!"
In a matter of seconds the two were hugging, however un-manly of them it may have seemed. There's nothing like being reunited with your childhood best friend.
"I don't believe it! Harry, what are you doing here?" Ron said, stepping back and smiling at his friend. Harry grinned.
"I should ask you the same thing."
"I was trying to get to Harold Petorny's for a business trip, but it's been so long since I used the flu, I must not have spoken clearly enough."
"That's odd," Harry commented. "Don't I have to be connected to the network? I'm sure I'm not."
"Oh well, who cares? Harry this is unbelievable! Wait until Ginny and the family hears you're back, they'll be ecstatic!"
Harry's smile faded a bit, and Ron didn't miss it. His grin imitated Harry's, and he narrowed his eyes. The sudden excitement was extinguished quickly.
"You ARE going to come back, aren't you?" They stared at each other in silence for a few minutes.
"I can't, Ron," Harry said after a moment. "I can't go back to that way of life. It's too painful, and I'm too dangerous-"
"Oy, Harry, come off it!" Ron said, his voiced raised a bit. "I don't care what Dumbledore says anymore, I'm not letting you live your life as a hermit in some Muggle town. Harry you HAVE to come back."
"Hang on a sec, what's Dumbledore got to do with it?"
Ron's eyes flared, and he said, "Dumbledore told me I shouldn't go after you when you left. Said you needed time to yourself, time to realize where you had to be. But it doesn't look as if you've realized it, so here, I'll help you. You belong in the wizarding world, Harry. What would your parents think if they knew the hero who'd outsmarted You-Know-Who eight times, and finally caused his death, was living alone in London?"
"I'm not alone," Harry put in feebly. "I have Hedwig."
Ron snorted. "That's good company all right. Harry, I'm not leaving this flat without you, you ARE coming back."
Harry stood still a moment. Hadn't he just been thinking, no less than ten minutes ago, how much he'd missed hearing from Ron? And how many times had he wished he could just apparate somewhere instead of taking the subway, or put a simple charm on the broom to make housework go faster? He sighed.
"Please, Harry." Ron gazed at his best friend, silently pleading to God, Allah, whoever was listening, that he come back.
Harry noted the look of pain in Ron's eyes, as though it was hurting him to think of letting his best friend go again. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad just to go back to the Burrow, at least, and see the Weasleys. Yes, that's what he'd do. He'd have a nice birthday dinner, and when they all fell asleep that night he'd make his escape.
Sighing, Harry nodded. Ron broke into a huge grin.
"Great, come on then! We'll use the flu to get to the Burrow! God, wait until Ginny sees you again, and what'll mum do?"
Still chattering, Ron pulled Harry towards the fireplace and took a small pouch from his robe pocket. Throwing a bit of what looked like dust into the fire, he said, "You first."
Harry nervously approached the fireplace- it'd been so long- yet he remembered all of the important instructions that he'd ignored years ago, when he ended up somewhere in Knockturn Alley. Back before he knew Sirius. Harry's heart gave a twinge at the memory of his godfather; he quickly focused his mind. He spoke quite clearly, "The Burrow."
Suddenly the flames shot up around Harry, engulfing him in green light, and he was whisked away through the flu network. Passing grate after grate, Harry grinned to himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he was enjoying the ride. The subway was nothing compared to this.
Reaching the Weasley's, he stepped dizzily out of the fireplace and shook the soot from his hair, though it was invisible in the black mess. Taking his glasses off, he very ineffectively wiped them on his sooty shirt.
"Arthur, is that you?" Molly Weasley's voice called out from the kitchen. Footsteps signaled to Harry that she was coming towards him, though he made no move to leave. Instead, a broad grin broke out across his face.
"I was just saying to Ginny that you should be getting home about now, she's been waiting fo-"
Mrs. Weasley had reached the living room area and stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth hanging open and a dish towel hanging limply from her clutched fist.
"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, grinning even wider. It was like seeing his own mother again, maybe better.
Mrs. Weasley stared another second, then let out a loud shriek. Hurrying to Harry, she wrapped him up in a hug and repeatedly kissed his face. Tears streamed down her own cheeks as she stumbled over her words, "Harry, Harry, you're back, where on Earth did you come from? Welcome home Harry, oh you must be awful after that terrible flu trip, let me get you a towel-" she laughed and handed him the one she was holding.
"Mum?" Ginny's voice called from the kitchen, concerned. "Are you all right?"
"Ginny! Ginny come quick!" Molly called to her daughter. "You won't believe who's here! It's Harry!"
"Harry?" Ginny's voice sounded disbelieving. The sound of shuffling indicated she was coming into the room as she mumbled, "Good joke, Mum, I think you're cracking u-"
She stopped dead in the doorway as Harry grinned at her, her eyes wide.
"H-harry?" Ginny stared.
"Hey, Ginny," Harry responded, carefully untangling himself from Mrs. Weasley's clutches and making his way over to the rather rounded Ginny. It took Harry a minute to realize-
"Ginny, you're pregnant!" Ginny nodded slowly, as though still not believing Harry could possibly be standing just in front of her.
From behind came the sound of Ron entering through the chimney, a broad smile on his face.
"Ah, I'm glad you've seen everyone again. Well, everyone who's here. Dad should be home soon for dinner."
"Supper!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, suddenly remembering the food frying on the stove. She ran back into the kitchen, but not before saying, "Welcome back, Harry."
"Thanks," Harry responded. Ron looked from Ginny to Harry and back before saying, "You know, Ginny, you're married. You can't look at him like that."
The Ginny Harry had first met would have turned bright red and run off, but times had changed, and so had Ginny. She rounded on her brother, saying, "Ronald Weasley, I'm not looking at Harry in any sort of way except that I'm glad that he's back. Now you march your stupid arse into the kitchen and wash up for dinner, Mum and I made dumplings tonight."
Ron held up his hands and walked towards the kitchen, Harry following behind.
"More like mum every day," Ron muttered.
"I heard that!" came Ginny's voice from behind them. Harry laughed.
"Wash up and we'll eat, we can't wait around for your father these days," Mrs. Weasley said, summoning a stack of dishes with her wand and directing them towards the table.
As Ron and Harry went to wash their hands like obedient school boys, Ron said, "Later you'll have to see me and Cecilia's flat, it's a bit girly, but the den's nice enough. I've managed to put enough quidditch posters up to cover the horrid flowered wallpaper."
Harry smiled, then asked, "Cecilia?"
"Ah, my girlfriend," Ron said. "Met her at the ministry when I started working for dad."
Harry was silent a moment, processing this information. Years ago he would have sworn that Ron and Hermione would be married someday, but after Hermione went-
"You're thinking about Hermione, aren't you?" Ron said. It wasn't really a question, more of a statement. He continued, "Because I decided years back that with you and Hermione gone I may as well move on with my life. And Cecilia is a great girl, I think I might propose to her."
"Please," Ginny said, joining the boys to wash her own hands. She looked at Harry, "He's been saying that for years. And they STILL aren't engaged."
"How come?"
"Just haven't had the right opportunity," Ron said, then turning oddly silent and very red, he dried his hands and went to the table.
Ginny moved closer to Harry and said under her breath, "He still loves Hermione. He denies it, but I used to hear him at night, for years until he moved out of the burrow. He had dreams about her, where he tried to save her but she never lived. It broke my heart."
Harry studied Ginny carefully, then sighed.
"I miss her," Harry said. Ginny gave him a sad smile.
"And we missed YOU, Harry. Then again, you came back. And we're all glad you did."
Harry smiled and left Ginny at the sink, sitting next to Ron at the familiar kitchen table and eagerly awaiting dinner, suddenly very, very hungry. He couldn't help but remember his attempt at an omelet a half an hour ago. How weird that 30 minutes in the past he'd had no idea Ron would show up in his living room.
The only thing that was missing from this was Hermione. His memories of Ron had always included Hermione. After all, in seventh year she and Ron were quite the popular couple, though neither would admit they were dating. Casual get-togethers was what Hermione called the dinners they had together. Harry shook his head sadly.
"What?" Ron asked, eyeing his best friend suspiciously. "You aren't going to run out on us again, are you?"
Harry looked at his friend and chose not to answer the question, for just thinking of Hermione made him remember why he'd left in the first place. Why he couldn't stay here.
"If you think you're leaving again, you're gravely mistaken," Mrs. Weasley only half-joked, bringing supper to the table. "You belong here."
Harry only wished he could be as sure of that as she was.
****************
Thousands of miles away, Albus Dumbledore looked up as an owl swooped through an open window.
"Ah, Druscela," Dumbledore said, petting the owl as it landed on it's perch. "Have you got word from the ministry?"
The owl hooted and held out a foot proudly, a note wrapped around it.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said, patting the bird's head a few times and unrolling the note.
"Professor Dumbledore-
"I've just heard from the Department of Mysteries and they've just finished the Audelas I was telling you about. I was wondering if you'd have any use for one, as only select wizards are being invited to test it out. Your official invitation will be sent in a few days, but I thought perhaps you'd like to know ahead of time.
"-Tonks."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows as he read this, surprised that the Audelas were ready so soon but in no way displeased. In fact-
"Professor?" Minerva McGonagall's voice came from the doorway, and Dumbledore called her in.
"I've just received a very curious owl from Ms Ginny Weasley."
"Ah, I was thinking one of us might," Dumbledore looked pleased. "Though I do believe she goes by Mrs. Thomas these days."
"In any case," McGonagall said, impatient to tell him the news she'd just heard, "She claims that just an hour ago Harry Potter returned to the magical world. Do you think it's true?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I know it is."
McGonagall looked baffled.
"It happens to be a certain Mr. Potter's birthday today," Dumbledore explained. "I thought he'd like some company, so I arranged for Ron to visit a Mr. Harold Petorny via the flu."
"I don't see what that has to do with-"
Dumbledore continued on as though McGonagall hadn't spoken, "I also had Harry's fireplace attached to the flu network under Mr. Petorny's name."
"Ah, I see," McGonagall said. "Do you suppose he will stay with us this time around?"
"We can only hope, Minerva," Dumbledore said, glancing again at the letter from Tonks. He had a feeling Harry would be sticking around a long while, just as soon as he called him and Ron Weasley in for a little conference about a certain invention called an Audela.
"McGonagall, I don't suppose I could borrow your owl? Mine's just left, and I have a letter I'd like to be received tonight."
***********************
A/N: So there's chapter one! Here's a little overview of what happens in this short lil' fic: Harry and Ron attempt to retreave Hermione from beyond the silver mist, explained next chapter. Along the way they meet several deceased friends (including Maggie, for anyone who read The Girl with the Emerald Eyes or Emeralds and Diamonds) and Harry begins to rethink his relationship with Hermione, wondering what he'll do if he ever does see her again. But R/Hermione fans don't despair, things may just work out-
I hope you like it! Please review either way!
Luv, Cassi
