The early morning light shone on the pristine piece of parchment. Harry read over the letter again, not quite believing what he saw.
Dear Mr Potter,
I hope you are enjoying your summer holidays.
As you are aware, after Voldemort's demise, the aurors have been working extremely hard to find all the remaining death eaters who have evaded our capture. They have been doing well so far.
However, a few days ago, a little problem arose. There seems to a man who is actually trying to regroup the death eaters and recruit new ones. We received a little tip off but it was anonymous. Due to the nature of this threat, and our lack of information, we are rather unsure of how to proceed. Furthermore, we do have a slight shortage of aurors at the moment since many of them passed away during the war.
The Ministry requests that you meet with one of our members on the 15th August at the Hog's Head, Hogsmeade for we feel you may be the only person who can help. Feel free to bring along Mr Ronald Weasley if he is willing.
You, of course, have the right to refuse this offer. Nonetheless, your help would be greatly appreciated and you may be the only person who can since we are currently being swamped by new threats from the aftermath of the war every day.
Yours faithfully,
James Smith
Head of Magical Law Enforcement Squad
"Well, go on then," Ron said, gesturing to the letter from where he lay in his bed. "What does it say?"
Harry sighed. "Apparently, we have more work to do."
"What?" Ron leapt from his bed and joined harry at the window. He handed him the letter, grimacing. The tawny owl from the ministry clucked and ruffled its feathers irritatedly.
Ron finally finished reading it and looked up, incredulity plastered all over his face. Harry waited a few seconds. So did the owl but more impatiently. Ron put the letter down. At last, he opened his mouth. Harry was hoping for he wouldn't totally lose it when- "They're kidding." He turned around, laughing and shaking his head, and flopped back down on his bed. The whole Burrow seemed to shake.
"Hm, somehow… I don't think they are."
"Are you actually considering it?" Ron sat up, a look of disgust on his face. "You must be thick."
"Ron," Harry began. "It's- "
"For God's sake, don't give me your crap about doing the right thing. Less than a month ago, we fought, okay? We did the right thing. Okay? We killed Voldemort. We destroyed the horcruxes. My brother died so we could do the right thing." He got to his feet. "I am not going off on some stupid mission agai-"
"It's not a mission they're just asking-"
"NO." He bellowed, his breathing heavier. "We've done what we had to do, more than what we had to do. And I don't care about you but I am not going anywhere."
With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Harry staring after him. When he heard his footsteps fade away and the sound of Ginny's voice- no, stop, he reminded himself, don't think of Ginny.
He went to the desk and picked up a quill and a piece of parchment.
"I thought I heard shouting upstairs. Is everything okay?" Molly Weasley asked.
There was a small pause before Harry said bracingly "Yh, everything's good."
She looked as if she were about to press him for further details but seemingly decided against it. Her face seemed to have grown a lot older these last few months, the twinkle in her eye a little duller than what it used to be.
An awkward silence settled over the table. Harry shuffled in his seat next to George. An empty chair was on his left and next to that sat Ginny, Ron and Mrs Weasley. Ginny was staring pointedly down at her cereal, refusing to acknowledge even Harry's existence. It had only happened three days ago but it felt like a lifetime that he hadn't been dating Ginny Weasley. He missed her. He missed her warmth, her smiling eyes, her fiery nature. The feeling of her lips on his, his hands holding her face.
"You alright, Harry?"
Fred seemed to be coping with his brother's death far better than should have been possible, really. He still smiled, joked, and seemed happy as ever. Harry knew better. He'd seen him alone in the garden a week ago, at about midnight. Happy wasn't the word to describe him then.
"Yh, I'm good." Everyone kept asking him what he was feeling like. He glanced at Ron who only glared back. It was enough to make him feel nauseated. "I'm just going to head upstairs now, the breakfast was wonderful- thank you Mrs Weasley."
No one said anything as Harry left. He went into Ron's room (where he had been sleeping for the last week or so) and sent off the owl. He watched the scroll up scrap of parchment dangling from its leg as the bird soared off towards to emerald treetops lining the hill across the house, wondering if he had made the right choice.