WAKE.
PROLOGUE.
Things are, normal. Natural. And easy. Breathing had never seemed so inviting to Harry James Potter as it did now. Now—this moment, with the sun gradually dipping behind the mountains that were by the horizon of the Weasley residence, everything felt right. He felt weightless. It was unreal, an unfamiliar feeling. Afraid as he was he allowed himself to savor the feeling. To savor every single bit of the freedom he had. Away from a war, away from the complications—all just to be here.
A celebration broke out behind him; the backyard of the Weasley's was crowded, wrapped around lights that swirled above them. The lights varied in many colors, amazing colors that began to fight with the sky's own light—although dimming, it was beautiful. His eyes closed as he listened to the laughter and the music blending together. The celebration felt right, because it was real. It wasn't a false celebration. It was loud, bright and ready to be seen.
For the first time in his life nothing was hidden. The weightless feeling didn't feel right to give into. As if it was just a trick his mind was playing on him before he was pushed into Hogwarts and then—put into another war, to save his life; loved ones and the world. It's a pressuring feeling. Quickly to stain on his heart and course his veins.
"Harry," Ronald Bilius Weasley's voice was easily recognized, Harry turned to face his red-headed friend. His tall body was covered in ashes—his nose with a spec of dirt. His blue eyes stared down at Harry, unhappy.
"What happened to you?" Harry asked with laughter being hidden.
"Hermione sent muggle fireworks," Ron brushed his chest rapidly, "I stood right underneath, firing it the way the manual suggest and it just…poofed. Exploded upwards with loads of bloody ashes."
"Would you like me to—," Harry slipped his wand in his hand and raised it at Ron.
"Please," Ron sighed, "Foul git George is, he tackled me to the ground. I've probably got dirt all over my face."
Harry nodded and raised his wand, with a flick and a simple thought, the ashes and dirt seemed to fly away from Ron and blow off into the wind. The corners of his mouth twitched as he thanks Harry with a nod. Standing side by side they turned and watched the lights that hovered over the Weasley's backyard.
"Ready for another school year, mate?" Harry asked Ron, his eyes beaming.
"Actually, yes," Ron nodded, "The first sane school year—that's exciting."
Harry looked at him with disbelief in his eyes.
"Well," Ron laughed, "I reckon it's going to go smoother than the last 6 years."
The two stood there, staring and watching as the other celebrated. Loudly, with different lights going off in the air. Their thoughts seemed to close up their throats, restricting them to talk, seeing as though talking about anything else but the peace they had now—seemed to be pointless.
