This is an extension/prequel to my other stories "Life's a Gamble" and Life's a Gamble: Fred and George". They aren't abandoned; I just felt I needed to write what happened prior to that point in time for it all to make sense.
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Oh, yeah. I'm not J.K. Rowling. If I were, I wouldn't have spent Christmas in the frozen tundra. I would have been on a beach with a margarita in one hand and a fistful of money in the other. Neither of which I have. So don't sue me. It wouldn't be a good way to start out the new year.
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JUNE—
Harry Potter apparated just outside of the grounds of the Burrow. As he walked onto the Weasley's property he remained silent. It was good to see the pleasantly haphazard-looking house once again but he was unsure as to how he would be received. Part of him thought he would be hugged and kissed and forgiven by all. Another thought that he would be hexed into a bloody pulp by the lot of them. Another part thought it would be a combination of the first two. He took the most indirect route he knew to the kitchen door, through the bushes and overgrown brush, behind dilapidated sheds the held Mr. Weasley's experiments with muggle contraptions and tried to step as lightly as possible near the flower and vegetable patches so not to disturb the gnomes.
A warm afternoon breeze ruffled the few strands hair that had come loose from his ponytail when he finally stepped into the open air. His hair was long now, almost to his shoulders. A year on the run from Voldemort and searching for Horcruxes and the Deathly Hallows had prevented any haircuts. Funnily enough though, his hair was much tidier now that it ever had been before. While he was away, he considered cutting it but he rather liked it, he thought it made him look a bit like Bill.
In the month since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry had been abroad. He had traveled around Europe and the States, choosing to remain in Muggle communities where there was little chance of being recognized and if he was, the witch or wizard he met promised to remain silent about his whereabouts once he explained himself to the.. He needed the time to clear his head and decompress from a lifetime of fighting someone he would never fully understand but knew more than he ever wanted to. He had left England the day after the battle, leaving only a note addressed to Ginny in the Gryffindor common room. He hoped she understood. He hoped everyone understood.
"Harry James Potter!" a shrill voice shrieked from the kitchen door as he approached it. He was tackled to the ground by a cloud of thick brown hair and small fists. "You!" Hermione punctuated each word with a punch to his ribs through a stream of tears. "Bleeding! Arsehole!"
At that, Hermione was pulled off of him by two pairs of freckled hands. One set pulled her into a tight, comforting embrace. Ron rested his chin easily on top of Hermione's head for a moment before kissing her forehead. George offered Harry his hand and pulled him up from the ground.
"All right, Harry?" Geroge asked a little too coolly.
"Yeah, I guess." Harry was afraid of where this might be heading.
"Nice holiday?"
"Well, it wasn't really a holid—"
"Wasn't really a holiday? Well, guess what Potter? Unless you buried some of the best people in the world while you were gone, it was a holiday." George stared at Harry, his brown eyes shooting daggers at him. Harry looked away, ashamed at himself and acutely aware of the truth of George's biting words. "Get inside. Mum will have kittens if she finds out we kept you out in the open. Not all the Death Eaters have been caught, yet."
The kitchen of the Burrow was practically unrecognizable. Everything had been redone to the latest fashion. There was a new tiled floor and hearth, butcher block countertops and a gleaming white sink. Shiny copper pots still hung over the stove but they looked new and barely used compared to the old ones. The only thing the remained the same was the huge clock in the corner with a hand for each member of the Weasley family. Over the mantle of the hearth hung a small wooden frame with a cream background and mounted against the paper was Fred's hand from the clock.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Ron spoke. "The house was almost gone when we came back. The Death Eaters ransacked the whole place. We had to completely rebuild. Mum wanted to keep the outside looking the same but the inside is all new." Ron helped Hermione into a seat at the long wooden table and busied himself be making her a cup of tea. George sat opposite her and continued to watch Harry. "Dad's been promoted. He's Kingley's right hand now and got a significant pay increase."
"What is the ministry up to now?" he asked. He hadn't read a wizarding newspaper in a month.
"Finding and putting Death Eaters on trial. They aren't doing any plea bargains this time, so they are all going to Azkaban. The Dementors aren't running it anymore since they can't be trusted. They're being kept at Nurmengard and controlled with Patronuses."
Hermione took the cup of tea that Ron handed to her and sipped it gratefully. Her eyes were bloodshot as if she had been crying for a long time.
"Have you retrieved your parents yet, Hermione?" he asked brightly but as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were the wrong ones. Hermione burst into tears, clutching her cup as if her life depended on it. Her head fell into her other hand as her crying became bawling. Harry didn't have to ask to know what had happened. Ron knelt next to her and rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her.
"We went to Australia a week after the battle, once Fred and Lupin and Tonks were buried. They had been killed by a drunk driver around Christmas." Hermione was inconsolable and her cries got louder and more distressed with each sob.
The door to the sitting room was suddenly flung open and Mrs. Weasley came bustling in, wand in hand. She looked even exhausted than when Harry had last seen her but her eyes were still fiery. She brushed past Harry and went straight to Hermione, pushing Ron aside. She enveloped Hermione into a big motherly hug and whispered to her. Hermione nodded and stood up. Ron took her hand and led her upstairs.
Mrs. Weasley turned around and let out a scream of shock upon seeing Harry standing in her kitchen before pulling him into a tight hug that reminded Harry of a boa constrictor. As he strained for breath, he heard another person gasp as they entered from the sitting room.
Ginny stood in the doorway, her hand to her mouth. Her long, thick hair framed her face and her big brown eyes, so similar to George's, but somehow so different, met his. When Mrs. Weasley finally released him, Harry took a step towards the beautiful red-haired girl. He held his hand out to her, praying that she would take it.
SMACK!
Ginny had slapped him across the face so hard that his glasses almost flew off his face. Before he could even wince in pain, her hands pulled him closer to her and their lips met.
"Ginevra!" Mrs. Weasley admonished but Ginny didn't seem to hear her. Harry felt her tongue slip into his mouth as his hands fell to her waist. It had been almost a year since they had last kissed but it felt just as wonderful as it had on his seventeenth birthday. When they finally broke apart, Ginny slapped his other cheek before running up the stairs, presumably to her bedroom.
"You look starved," Mrs. Weasley said, looking him up and down. She waved her wand and the pantry door opened and a bag of potatoes flew out and landed on the counter. A vegetable peeler rose and began peeling a potato over the sink. "What on Earth have you been eating?"
"Mum, I think "Where on Earth have you been eating?" is a much more relevant question right now," George said in a harsh tone.
"George Weasley!"
"It's all right, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, rubbing his cheek. He wanted to speak to all of them together, so he only had to do it once. "The kitchen looks wonderful."
"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" She began pulling out plates and silverware for dinner. "Arthur insisted that I have the kitchen I always wanted. He really shouldn't have but I think it turned out very well. After dinner, Ron will show you the rest of the house. I'm just glad we were able to save the outside."
George scowled at Harry and stomped upstairs, muttering under his breath.
"I don't think anyone is very glad to see me." Harry sat down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood absentmindedly.
"Oh, Harry, dear, don't be silly. We're all glad to see you. Hermione just is very emotional right now, George is learning how to get by without Fred and Ginny, well, Ginny loves you." She stated it like it was a fact, something she was as sure about as Ginny's birthday or Ron's fear of spiders. "Give it some time, dear. Talk to them. Explain yourself to them. Explain why you left."
"I left because I needed to breathe without fear. I left because I needed to know what it was like to live without some crazy evil wizard trying to kill me at every turn. I left because I loved them and they aren't here anymore and it is because of me. I would rather it had been me than Fred, Mrs. Weasley. It should have been me, not him, or Tonks or Remus or parents or Colin Creevey." For the first time, Harry spoke his feelings about the battle aloud. "I should have made everyone leave Hogwarts and just dealt with him myself."
"And what good would that have done?" she asked, stirring a pot on the stove with her wand. "As soon as you had killed Riddle, the Death Eaters would have killed you. And the whole thing would have continued on and on for who know how long with someone else taking over for him. They probably would say that he was still alive."
"Yes, but Remus and Tonks would have had a few more days with Teddy and Fred might still be here." He saw a tear form in her eye when he mentioned her son and instantly regretted it.
"Remus and Tonks—Harry, I don't want to argue about this. Fifty people died that night. We have no way of knowing how many more would have died if it had just been you. In all reality, you probably saved lives. Set the table, would you, dear?" She waved her wand again a huge stack of plates zoomed to the counter.
Harry picked up the stack of plates and silverware and laid them out on the table. A clock in another room struck six o'clock and Mrs. Weasley glanced at the one in the corner, which was making it's own noise. Mr. Weasley's hand shifted from 'Work' to 'Traveling'. "Arthur should be home soon. His hours are much more manageable now that he's the Deputy Minister of Magic."
"Congratulations, by the way."
"Thank you, dear. Arthur was so flattered when Kingsley offered it to him." She flicked her wand again and a potato masher dropped into the steaming pot and began to move up and down. Again, a whirl of cogs came from the clock and Harry and Mrs. Weasley looked at it. The longest of the hands moved from 'Traveling' and settled on 'Home'. The kitchen door opened and a very tired but happy Mr. Weasley came into the room in a sensible but well-made traveling cloak in a deep red. It was certainly finer than his previous one.
He went straight to Mrs. Weasley and deposited a quick kiss on her cheek. "How are you, Molly?" He hadn't noticed Harry Potter sitting at his kitchen table.
"I'm fine, Arthur. Harry's back," she said with a nod in his direction. Arthur glanced at Harry, not really seeing him and then he looked back, stunned.
"I have to owl Kingsley. He figured you would come here when you decided to come back and asked to be informed of it right away." He rushed over to a tall barn owl perched near the window and summoned a piece of parchment and a quill. "Take this to the Minister, E.J."
"Errol died this year," Mrs. Weasley told Harry. "E.J. is one of the owls he sired." Mr. Weasley opened the window and E.J. soared off into the sky. Dusk had settled, turning the sky a soft lavender. Mrs. Weasley transferred the stew from the copper pot into a large tureen. "Harry, dear, let the others know supper is ready?"
"Sure, Mrs. Weasley." He stood up, aware that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wanted to talk about him to one another but he didn't feel like hiding to hear what they would say. He climbed the still narrow staircase that no longer creaked with each step he took. Everything about the stairwell and the landing looked the same, just with a fresh coat of the same soft blue paint from before. He went up two more flights to stairs to Ron's bedroom and knocked softly. He heard a grunt of acknowledgement and opened the door. Hermione lay on Ron's bed, curled up in a tight ball. Ron sat beside her, stroking her hair.
"What do you want?" Ron asked.
"Your mum wanted me to fetch you for dinner." He didn't enter the room, something about the way Ron was looking at him told him not to. The room was still wallpapered with Chudley Cannons posters but they showed the latest team. The old ones were tattered and torn and from several seasons before Harry first came to the Burrow but these were bright and glossy, the players waving and smiling cheerfully at him.
Hermione sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She came to Harry and hugged him tightly, saying all the things that she could not say. "I'm glad you're back, Harry," she whispered simply in his ear and went down the stairs. Ron said nothing, just clapped him on the back and followed the brown-haired witch.
Harry went down to the next landing, where George's room was. He raised his fist to knock but the door opened before he could. George stared back at him, nodded and brushed past him to head to the kitchen. That left Ginny. Harry went to her room and knocked on the door and was immediately pulled inside by a small pale hand. Ginny pushed Harry against the door and pulled him into a searing kiss before she punched him in the stomach.
"Be glad I'm underage until August, Potter. Otherwise, I'd hex you from here to next week." Harry didn't doubt it for a second. He gasped for air, struggling to speak but Ginny took his hand and led him out of her room and down to dinner.
Bill and Charlie stood at the table, Bill pouring butterbeer in glasses and Charlie, pumpkin juice. Fleur and Hermione were helping Mrs. Weasley chop vegetables for the salad and George sat with his father and Percy at the far end of the table, quietly discussing an article in the Daily Prophet.
"Ginny, would you set six more places?" Mrs. Weasley asked her daughter without even looking up from the cutting board.
"Yes, Mum." She went to the cupboard and retrieved the extra plates and went to the table.
The door to the outside opened and Angelina Johnson entered the room and went straight to George, who wrapped an arm around her waist. Harry watched them for a moment, shocked as Angelina had been dating Fred when he had died. Kingsley Shacklebolt followed in directly and stepped in front of Harry.
"After dinner, I must speak with you. It cannot wait." His voice was as strong and powerful as ever but Harry was somehow comforted by this forceful man. He nodded and couldn't help but smile upon seeing that Kingsley was wearing his gold earring again.
Fleur turned from the counter, salad bowl in hand, and kissed both of Harry's cheeks. "I am so 'appy zat you 'ave returned, 'arry." She set the bowl on the table and wiped her hands on her apron. "I 'ope zat you 'ad a wonderful journey?" she asked. She was, by far, the most pleasant person other than Mrs. Weasley that had spoken to him but he chose not to mention it.
"It was very nice, thank you." He felt eleven pairs of eyes staring at him, almost daring him to tell Fleur about his adventures abroad but wisely kept quiet. Fleur opened her mouth to ask him another question but Harry was saved but a light, ethereal knock on the kitchen door that could only come from one person. Ginny opened the door and Luna Lovegood floated in with her father. Luna wore a pale blue dress that was a little too dressy for dinner with the Weasley's but it was the more normal thing Harry had ever seen her wear. The two girls embraced and Xenophilius Lovegood smiled good naturedly at everyone but sputtered abruptly upon seeing Harry in the Weasley's kitchen.
"Harry!" Mr. Lovegood bustled over to him and shook his hand excitedly. "So pleased that you've come back. I would love to publish another interview with you when you get the chance." Luna nodded to him but said nothing.
"Erm, I'll have to think about it, Mr. Lovegood. I'll let you know." The older man sat next to Mr. Weasley and Kinglsey joined their discussion as well. Mrs. Weasley was just setting the tureen on the table when the fire roared and turned emerald green.
Mrs. Tonks stepped out of the flames with a bundle clutched protectively in her arms. She smiled at Harry and waved him closer to her. She gently placed the infant his arms and brushed the soot off her cloak. Teddy Lupin looked up at Harry and instantly his hair went from the vibrant pink that Tonks favored to jet black. Andromeda smiled again.
"It's the only morph he's mastered so far. I was showing him pictures of Dora and Remus before we left and he loves to match his hair to hers. He is starting to get the hang of his eyes but I think it will take a bit longer." Harry watched the little boy's eyes, Lupin's eyes, flutter back and forth between their natural grey (or what Harry assumed to be natural as he had no idea what Tonk's real eye color had been) and bottle green. Teddy gurgled and scrunched his face. Harry braced himself to feel a full nappy but instead a barely visible jagged line began to be form on Teddy's forehead. Andromeda took him from Harry since Mrs. Weasley was frantically shooing everyone to their places and sat down. "He likes you," she told Harry from her seat next to Fleur. "The last person he tried to morph into right after meeting them was Ginny. Merlin, it took three days for his hair to completely return to normal!"
Harry went to what had been his usual place, between Ron and Hermione but they now sat together, clutching hands and Harry didn't feel right about separating them. He took Hermione's old spot and was stunned that he forgot that Ginny sat next to her. Once she had seated herself, Harry almost choked on his butterbeer when he felt her hand slide up his knee to his thigh. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one had. Harry saw one remaining place, next to Mrs. Tonks and Kingsley.
Just as Mrs. Weasley began chastising Charlie for putting a shot of Firewhiskey at everyone's place, Harry asked, "Who's not here yet?" Everyone looked at him and he could tell that they assumed that he knew something important.
"He doesn't know," Percy breathed. He heard Hermione's breathing changed from solemn to excited. Ginny squeezed his knee and smiled broadly at him.
Harry was confused. He looked into each of their faces, hoping for an answer of some kind but received none.
The answer came as the fire burned green again and a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties stepped out of the hearth. He kicked ash from his well-made, and worn, dragon skin boots and cracked his back before his eyes met Harry's.
"Sirius?"
