The first night at the Burrow
Summary: The Weasley's are back at the Burrow for the first night after the finale battle, see what happens and even though Voldermort has gone, Harry's work is still far from over. Prequel to clawing the way back to normality.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the things that you recognise in the fic, and I am not doing this for profit because no one is stupid enough to pay me money for my ramblings, which is as it should be.
Looking around at the occupants sitting at the scrubbed wooden table, Harry realized how wrong he was. He had been very naive in thinking that everything would be fine now that the war is over, in hoping that everything would go back to normal.
Standing just inside the door, he saw that the war wasn't over, and that it was still going on every minute of every day and that just because Voldermort was dead it doesn't mean that all would go back to normal. They couldn't. For one thing Harry hadn't the foggiest on what normal was exactly, ever since he had been introduced to the wizarding world 7 years ago, his life had never been what could be classed as normal, it was all in preparation for the final event.
The war had killed many people and left many with their lives in ruins, tatters and with horrifying memories and images, that although they may fade with time they will never be totally forgotten. The occupants of the table are a great advertisement of that fact. He couldn't just stand there, he was one of the main reasons behind this mess and he couldn't just stand there, he need to help clean it up. Not fix, because there is no way this situation could ever be fixed, not with all the best will and magic in the world, but he could and should try to lessen the burden as much as he possibly can.
Harry knew that he couldn't just wallow in self-pity like he had been prone to do so before. Just like the war was bigger than him, than his thoughts and emotions, this also was about way more than him; this is about the future of the wizarding race, and the only true family he has ever known. He needed to help.
In his mind he made a list, of what needed to be done. It was vague, but it also was long. Right at the top it was to care for the Weasley's in the same way that each and every one of them had cared for him over the years.
'I mustn't give them anything else to worry about, so that means listen and keep any thoughts to myself, but first of all tea.'
Silently he made his way further into the kitchen, and slowly but surely began making the tea for the 10 other occupants of the room. Not completely confident in the spell he did it the muggle way, but eventually the Weasley's both in name and honour, Fleur and Hermione, had a cup of the liquid in front of them. No-one had paid him any notice as he completed his task, except Hermione who glanced at him as he placed her cup in front of her.
No-one made any moves towards the steaming cups. A time when the Weasley's did not use tea as a form of comfort meant only one thing. So Harry went to the cupboard once again and this time he brought out 10 glasses, and placed them on the table, before summoning a bottle of Fire-whiskey from a dark recess in the pantry. This they mourning family did seem to recognise and it wasn't long before the glasses were empty once again.
A couple of rounds later and you would have expected the family to be doing something, but no it seemed like they were so far into their grief that even one of the strongest drinks in the wizarding world had no effect, and they were all still as sober as before, and just as sombre, which of course is to be excepted. The only effect was that the exhaustion seemed to have kicked in. Ginny was already fast asleep curled up on the bench in a way that was very reminiscent of the Christmas during Harry's fifth year.
Looking around once again, he knew that they would not want to be separated this night, so Harry made his way to the living room, and conjured and transfigured all that he could in order to make a place for the 10 of them to sleep comfortably and hopefully peacefully, although he knew that peace was very unlikely to be found for a while yet.
He didn't bother about a bed for himself; he didn't plan on sleeping and even if he did there was no way he was going to intrude any more than he has done so already. After all it is his fault that they are in this situation.
Back in the kitchen he gently lifted the sleeping Ginny of the bench and carried her into the make-shift bedroom, and lay her down on one of the bed, ensuring that she remained asleep. He gently tucked her in, and even summoned the teddy bear that he knew she had had since she was a baby, and tucked it into the crook of her arm. He wanted to be able to put his arms around her and hold her tight. To whisper that everything is going to be alright, but he lost that right a year ago, and was ensure as to whether he will ever get it back. So he just stroked her hair off her face, and with one last look left the red-headed girl to her slumber, and made his way back into the kitchen.
Hermione looked up as he entered, and seemed to realise what was going on, and so silently guided Ron off the bench and into the other room. Fleur soon followed suit with her husband, which left four plus Harry. After a few words of encouragement Charlie soon joined the others in the land of nod, and was shortly followed by Mr and Mrs Weasley. Leaving George in the kitchen, who was staring at the same spot that caught his gaze when he first sat down over 3 hours ago.
As the young hero went to guide the lost twin to the rest of his family in the living room, he found himself being pulled down on to the bench as the twin broke down. Instantly Harry gathered George in his arms and attempted in vain to comfort the sobbing male in his arms.
'I.. I just feel so alone without him, like a part of me is missing you know, and all I can think I that he's never coming back. I don't know what to do, how can I live without him, I've never been without him. He's my twin.' George chocked out between sobs, before the emotions overcame him and he wasn't able to carry on, he just broke down.
Harry just let him cry, knowing that nothing he said or did would help, and he there is truth behind having a good cry makes you feel better. Only when the sob began to die down, did Harry begin to talk.
'I can't say I know how you feel, because I don't but I can empathise. You feel like you have lost the one person who knows who you are, the only person that you can tell absolutely everything too, and who knows your thoughts and feeling without you having to say anything.' George nodded. 'All you want to do is curl up in bed and stay there for the rest of your life. You're not sure if you have the power to go on anymore, however at the back of your mind there is something that is telling you that you started something great that you need to carry on.
Not just to honour his memory and to make him proud but for everyone else as well. For you that's the shop. Fred would want you to carry on, to be twice as big, and to carry on the legacy that you have already started. I'm not saying that when you wake up tomorrow you should just carry on like nothing's happened, because you could never do that. Unfortunately nothing will ever be the same again, and the pain and loss that you feel will always be there, but over time it will fade to a dull ache. You will always remember him, and no matter what you do you will always make him proud, the only way that you will dishonour him and his memory is if you give up, and let your life go to waste, you and I both know that Fred will expect you to love your life to the full.
So we will grieve for him, and we will mourn him. But we will also remember him, and all that he did. And throughout it all, if you ever need to talk, cry or just need company then you have your family around you. I know it's not the same, but it will help. And if you ever need to scream and shout about the injustice of it all, if you ever need someone to blame or just to be angry at well then just remember that I'm here okay.' Again George just nodded. 'Good, but now what you need is sleep, your exhausted, so come on try and get some sleep.'
The young wizard guided the grieving boy to the next room, and tucked him in lie a father would for his son, and then summoned the twins baby blankets that he was sure had to be in the house somewhere. They will give him more comfort at the moment than anything will at the moment though Harry. Then after checking on the others in the room, left and went back to the kitchen and released a huge sigh.
Walking over to the table, he sat down heavily and summoned a piece of parchment and a quill. Taking a deep breath he jotted down the mental list that had been running around his head for the last few hours. He made a few corrections and additions and then he was done. He carefully folded the parchment charmed it, so that no-one else could read it, and placed it in his jeans pocket. Upon doing so, he realised that he had been wearing these clothes for the past few days, and although laundering charms are quick and easy there is nothing that replaces a good proper washing.
Deciding that was what needed to be done first the young man summoned all the washing in the house, thankful that Aunt Muriel had had the foresight to send most of the families clothes back earlier. He quickly located the beaded blue bag that had served them so well over the past months and dug out the trio's clothes and added them to the pile. It didn't take long for the wizard to find the appropriate spell in one of Mrs Weasley's many domestic spell books, and after a few tries the clothes were being scrubbed in a huge wooden bath, and being rung through the mangle before drying and folding themselves into nice piles, for each person.
Seeing that the laundry was safely under control Harry sat back down at the table and turned his attention to his next task. With a fresh quill he began his letter to Andromeda and Teddy, who he had meant previously day. Offering his deepest sympathies and apologise for the loss of Lupin and Tonks. He also offered them any help whenever they needed, and spoke of his wish to be a regular visitor and a good godfather to Teddy. The next two letters were to Neville and Luna, thanking them for all that they have done, not just over the past year or so, but since he has known them. He also offered them and hand or an ear whenever they need it.
Hours passed and Harry kept writing, he wrote to every single family who had lost someone not only in the final battle but since Voldermort rose again over three years ago. Ever letter was different, they all had the basis of an apology, a thank you for all they did, and offer of help and the entirely truthful line of 'They are a hero, and will never be forgotten.' In the letters to those that he knew more the Creevley's for instance, he included an anecdote that showed that he knew just how special they were and how much they will be missed.
The sun was contemplating rising when Harry finished the last letter, and set it on the pile with the others with a sigh. He wanted to cry, all those people who had died because of him, what was a letter gonna do he thought, it wasn't going to bring them back; it wasn't going to help them with the crushing pain of their grief. Nothing could, but he hoped that it may help just a little, for it to be acknowledged that their death wasn't in vain.
The clock chimed 4.' The Weasley's will be up soon, I should probably think about breakfast', thought Harry, 'I don't think Mrs Weasley will feel up to cooking. I doubt anyone will'
That decided the wizard. Getting out the cookbooks he looked through for recipes that were fairly simply but comforting and could be made in large quantities. Looking through the pantry, he noticed that he needed a lot of ingredients. He wrote the shopping list on a scrap of parchment, and getting the muggle money out of the blue beaded bag, he checked on the sleeping Weasley's, noticing that while they may still be asleep they weren't experiences pleasant dreams, far from it in fact. Another thing was added to the list; make a batch of dreamless sleep potion.
After a quick trip to the 24 hour muggle supermarket down in the village, Harry was back in the kitchen of The Burrow, and he began cooking. He made stews, pies, and pudding all things that can be reheated at a later date. Suddenly grateful for the Dursely's forcing him to cook for them at a young age, as it now meant that he was able to help if only in a small way, and the added bonus of not having to worry about poisoning anyone helped the process go a lot easier.
It was nearly half 7 when Harry started on breakfast. He was just about to place the sausages in the pan when he remembered one thing that he didn't make, and had a sudden thought.
'Kreacher' Harry called out into the empty kitchen. Almost immediately a loud crack reverberated around the room, signalling the elderly house elf's arrival.
'You called Master Harry?'
'Yes Kreacher, how are you? Are all the Hogwarts elves recovering and being treated? You were all very brave, you know Kreacher.'
'We are fine Master, the injured elves are being treated as we speak, and we weren't being brave, we were only defending our home, just like you.'
'Well either way, I thank you and all of the elves. I am afraid I have to ask you for another favour Kreacher, is that alright.'
'Of course Master Harry, I'm here to serve you.'
'Ok well would you be able to make some of your French Onion soup, for about 200 people.' Kreacher tried to hide his shock, at such a request but ultimately failed. It was then the he looked around the kitchen and saw the food stacked on every surface available in the kitchen.
'Are you having a party sir?'
'No, not at all Kreacher, I'm gonna send this food to the families who fought in the battle and to those who have lost someone, as I highly doubt that they are going to want to think about cooking for a while. I was just about to start making breakfast and thought that your soup would be perfect.'
A few more words were exchanged, but they soon both got back to work, and by 8 0'clock the final of the food parcels with the attached letters were ready to go, and Kreacher left after offering to deliver them himself, which he did but only under the promise that as soon as he had finished he would go and get some rest.
With Kreacher gone, Harry stored the Weasley's food into the pantry and placed their breakfast under warming charms on the table, and as soon as this was finished he heard the Weasley's start to rise, and make their way into the kitchen, following the smell of the food. By the time most of them were tucking in, Harry had left the kitchen and was making headway into his next task.
AN: Hi I hope you enjoyed I know the ending is a bit rushed and I'm not entirely happy with this fic, bit I have had it going round my mind and on bits of paper now for about 2 years or so, and I really just wanting to get it typed, posted and out if my head.
As I said earlier this is kind of the prequel to Clawing the way back to normality. Yeah I know my titles are rubbish, trust me I have tried to think if better ones.
Thank you for reading.