Well hello! All thought I was done with fanfiction, eh? Well, I did too. But, I'm bored and I'm having trouble writing my real world project, so I decided to dish out some Harry Potter. Call it's writer's stress relief. Anyways, I don't really expect to update this too too often. In fact, I don't really have a plan for it. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
The Burrow had changed since the war. Not so much physically. The levels of the Weasley household still rose in one haphazard tower over their fields and gardens. There was still a peaceful paddock up the hill. Even the collection of rubber boots by the door had remained the same. Yet the Burrow had changed since the war.
It had only been a month since Harry Potter came through for the world and defeated the Dark Lord once and for all. People everywhere celebrated this. Even muggles, ignorant though they were, knew that things were getting better. Normally the Burrow would have been a sort of epicenter for the festivities. After all, that family had every right to rejoice as raucously as they pleased. But the Burrow had changed since the war.
Rather than the usual clamor of its many occupants, the building remained in a frightening hush. In fact, fewer people resided in the house after the war. Perhaps that was the cause for the silence. Perhaps the deaths of so many loved ones, including a Weasley boy, had taken the sound right out of the family's throats. Perhaps absence was the reason that the Burrow had changed since the war.
Even if the mourning witches and wizards had wanted to party, or even really interact as normal, they couldn't have. Sheer exhaustion claimed each and every one of them. It had been such a long and grueling battle, both literally and metaphorically. Literally, the Final Battle of Hogwarts had tested each and every participant to push past their limits. Beyond that, the war itself had been tiresome. Nobody had really grasped the fact that they could once again breathe in peace just yet. Maybe the overall fatigue was the reason that the Burrow had changed.
In reality, though, the Burrow wasn't what changed.
The world changed.
An owl arrived one morning, carrying a message from Professor McGonagall. This letter came in the form as a note from the Headmistress of Hogwarts rather than a fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix. The parchment explained that, due to the damage to the school and the loss of so many, Hogwarts would not reopen on September 1st. However, due to the lack of actual learning the previous term, courses would be held during the year for the students to catch up and prepare for Hogwarts' return the following year. These classes were to be held sporadically throughout the year and would end with an exam at the beginning of next summer to determine whether the students were ready to move on. Those who did not sign up for Hogwarts' unofficial school year or who failed the exam at the end would be held back next September.
Mrs. Weasley, who had received this letter while feverishly and rather unnecessarily scrubbing the kitchen table, called down her two youngest children. The hero and unofficial seventh Weasley boy, Harry Potter, was also invited to this meeting, though he did not attend. Much like the solo twin, George, Harry had rarely left his bed in the month or so since he first entered it. That was how they coped. The others were all different: Mrs. Weasley cooked and clean with an inexhaustible fervor; Mr. Weasley and Percy spent every moment they could at the Ministry; Ron devoted himself completely to Hermione, even when she wasn't physically at the Burrow; Ginny often disappeared from the house to walk to town or fly around the paddock.
"What's up, Mum?" the red-haired girl asked as she entered the kitchen. Her hair was windblown and her cheeks flushed a pale pink. Ron entered behind her with dead eyes. These days, they only lit up when he was with or at least talking to his brilliant girlfriend.
"A Hogwarts letter came today," Mrs. Weasley explained, pointing to the object in question. Mrs. Weasley's voice seemed to hold no emotion at all and she spoke quietly. "They're not opening this year."
Her children had expected this. Having been there for the end, they'd seen the massive damage the castle had taken. The staff and student body had taken a hit as well, not to mention that nobody was mentally and emotionally stable enough yet to go back to school. A year off was the best decision.
"However," Mrs. Weasley continued, "they are offering make-up classes during this year to prepare for next term. I'm not forcing either of you into anything, but I want you to think about it."
Ron nodded and rushed off, probably to write a letter to Hermione about the situation. Ginny, however, remained. She picked up the letter her mother had left on the table as Mrs. Weasley busied herself with preparing a dinner that nobody would eat. After perusing the letter for its terms and conditions, Ginny also left and began climbing the stairs.
Just do it, she thought to herself. She stood hesitantly on the landing, staring at the door with its peeling paint and plaque declaring it to be "Ronald's Room." Sighing, she pushed open the door with determination. The remaining pieces of her broken heart tore up a little more at the sight.
Harry lay flat on his back, staring at the sloping ceiling as though transfixed by it. As Ginny approached, she noted that he barely blinked his emerald green eyes. And though the color of his irises was deep, the emotion in them was anything but. Harry's eyes, much like Ron's, had an empty, unfeeling appearance. His untidy black hair had grown out so that he needed to brush it out of his eyes to see and dark scruff covered his pale skin. He didn't even flinch at Ginny's arrival, nor when she perched herself cautiously on the edge of the bed. She sat silently for several minutes before speaking.
"Hogwarts isn't opening this year," she finally said. "Not officially, anyway. They're holding classes this year as a sort of make-up for last year. I'm thinking about signing up." Though Harry didn't look at her, she somehow knew that she had his full attention. So she kept rambling on. "Last year doesn't count, see. If I don't take these classes, I'll have to repeat my sixth year. It makes sense of course; all I learned last year was that the Cruciatus Curse bloody well hurts." She winced slightly at this memory. Her shudder caused Harry to stir. His hand instinctively twitched toward hers, and though they didn't make contact, the action didn't go unnoticed. It's a start. "And anyway, if I do this, we'll be seventh years together next year when Hogwarts reopens for real. You and me, and Ron and Hermione. That'd be fun, eh? Ron's run off to talk to Hermione about it, so I guess we'll find out in the next few days. Well, I guess I ought to go. Mum'll have dinner ready soon, I'm sure."
She paused in the doorway before she left, hoping to hear Harry's voice. No response came. Still, she knew that she had had some effect on him. The encounter had definitely affected her, though she berated herself for those thoughts with every step she took. My brother and many of my friends are dead, and I'm only thinking about my relationship with Harry, she thought bitterly, thudding down the wooden stairs to the ground level of the Burrow.
"Hi Ginny," a voice said. A familiar, but unexpected voice. Ginny looked up to see her bushy-haired best friend giving her a sad smile from the living room.
"Hermione," Ginny stated in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"I got the Hogwarts letter as well, so I Apparated here to talk to you guys about it," the brunette explained.
"That ruddy owl I sent will be confused when he can't find you," Ron commented. Hermione gave a smirk and Ginny let out a chuckle. She was happy to hear her brother make a joke.
Ginny was also happy that Hermione was there, as she was the exact person that Ginny knew she could speak to without fear of judgment and get sound advice. Their conversation had to wait until after dinner, however. Ginny had been right when she spoke to Harry and it wasn't long before Mrs. Weasley was announcing dinner. The four of them were the only ones to sit at the table, and only Hermione, Ron, and Ginny ate anything at all.
"Hermione, dear, are you staying the night?" Mrs. Weasley asked as the younger ones picked at their food.
"Not tonight, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione answered. Ron looked rather crestfallen at this bit of information. "I'd like to get back and spend time with my parents, now that I have them back."
"Of course," Mrs. Weasley agreed. Before she left, however, and before Ron had a chance to steal her, Ginny asked her if they could talk. Though confused, Hermione followed Ginny to the bedroom they often shared.
"What's wrong?" she asked as soon as the door was shut. Ginny sat on her bed and leaned forward, resting her forehead on the palms of her hands. Hermione sat beside her friend.
"I'm a horrible person," Ginny admitted. Sensing Hermione's bewildered expression, she continued her speech without waiting for a response. "The Wizarding World is in shambles, Hogwarts is so badly damaged that they can't even open, so many people have died, including my own brother, and I've been worrying about my relationship with Harry. I've been wondering where we are, now that he's done what he needed to do. He broke up with me, but I know he didn't want to. And then he kissed me last summer. But now he just lies in bed and doesn't move or speak, and I don't know where that leaves us, and I am a horrible person for being concerned about such things when everyone else is walking around in a pitiful depression. I'm sad, too, you know, don't get me wrong. But I think about Harry all the time. All the time, Hermione. What's wrong with me?"
Hermione had listened quietly to this rushed confession with patience. Now that Ginny had stopped speaking and was instead breathing deeply, Hermione moved closer, gingerly rubbing the younger girl's back. She leaned forward and tilted her head so that she could see Ginny's face as she replied.
"There is nothing wrong with you," she said firmly yet softly. "You love Harry. There's nothing wrong with that. Hell, love is what saved the world. Literally."
"I went in and talked to him today," Ginny continued. She sat up a little so she could look at Hermione. She searched for her true thoughts, in case the words she spoke were nothing more than a friend's words of comfort. She found no hidden opinions, however. "I just rambled a bit. He didn't say anything, didn't even really acknowledge me. Except…except at one point, his hand sort of twitched like he was going to hold mine." Hermione's surprise was evident; at some point or another, they had all tried to talk to Harry. No one had been successful in receiving any sort of reaction. Hermione smiled.
"Ginny, did Ron tell you about our first kiss?" she asked. Puzzled, Ginny shook her head. "It was during the battle. In the middle of fighting, when people were literally laying down their lives or getting seriously hurt, I was kissing Ron Weasley. But you know what? It's that kiss and my relationship with him that keeps me going. It's what keeps him going." Hermione stood up to leave and kissed the top of Ginny's fiery red hair. She had only taken a few steps before she turned back around. "I think you should keep talking to Harry, Gin."