After the War
And so the battle if Hogwarts has been won. Lord Voldemort had been defeated and the near constant heavy, grey mist of the past two years had been lifted from the wizarding world, along with the spirits of many of the people in it. For the first time in his life, Harry was free, free from the burden of being the 'chosen one', free from the constant pressure of having to destroy the most powerful dark wizard of all time and the expectations for him to save the entire wizarding community. But Harry didn't feel free, the 'Saviour' and his two best friends were more in demand than ever; people just couldn't seem to get enough of 'the boy who lived, twice'.
But luckily for Harry, the Weasleys had been as kind and accommodating as ever, allowing him and Hermione to hide out at The Burrow for as long as they needed. 'It's the least we can do Harry dear' Mrs Weasley would smile down at him, 'No trouble at all, you're as much a part of this family as anyone'. But Harry could see the hurt in her eyes, the grief she felt from losing a son. He saw it in the eyes of every inhabitant of The Burrow, especially George, who he could still not bring himself to make eye contact with. He knew they didn't blame him, but Harry could not help but blame himself; for the death of Fred, for Lupin and Tonks, and the other 50 people who lost their lives on that faithful night.
All Harry wanted to do now was lead a normal life, the quiet life he had always craved, but as much as he wanted that, deep down in his heart of hearts, Harry knew he couldn't have that, not yet. They hadn't even given them time to recover from the battle before they began to hound the trio, begging for interviews, photo shoots and the like. They had managed to avoid everything thus far, sheltered safely within the walls of the Weasley residence, but a month on, Harry new they could not avoid the world much longer.
Harry groaned, pulling the duvet up over his head as Hermione stormed into Ron's top floor room and dragged back the thick blue curtains, allowing the bright morning sun to stream in through the large window.
'Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter, get yourselves out of bed, now!' She demanded, marching over towards Harry and pulling his cover off him before turning away to subject Ron to the same treatment.
Ron made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a squeal, and grabbed onto his quickly disappearing duvet, dragging it back up around his body. 'Bloody hell Hermione, give us a minute will you' he barked, his face a deep shade of crimson, leaving Hermione looking a little abashed.
'Don't worry about him Mione' Harry chuckled, pulling himself up into a sitting position. Hermione turned to him and smiled. 'Oh, I know Ronald isn't much of a morning person' she said, perching herself on the end of Harry's camp bed. 'Oh no Herms', he replied with a smile, glancing over at Ron who was still clutching at his sheet so his knuckles were almost white, 'Ronald is very much a morning person'. He gave Ron a knowing look.
Ron glared back at Harry, his face still an obvious shade of pink, before turning his attention back to Hermione. 'So, are you going to tell us why you woke us up at this ungodly hour Mi?' Ron asked, still a little grumpy, but the use of his nickname for her told Hermione that Ron wasn't mad at her.
'Yes' she smiled, 'These arrived for you this morning' she threw Harry and Ron a letter each. Harry looked at her, confused. They had been receiving tons of mail for weeks, all of which they had been ignoring. What could be so special about these letters that Hermione thought it necessary to wake two teenage boys from their slumber. He apprehensively picked up the letter from his lap. Unable to recognise the writing, he slowly turned over the letter in his hands, immediately recognising the familiar crest embedded upon the red wax seal which held the envelope closed.
'Hogwarts?' he questioned, his interest rising. Tearing open the envelope and pulling out its contents, Harry began reading immediately.
'Dear Mr Potter,
We are delighted to inform you that, due to the terrible consequences of last year, all seventh year students are invited to return to Hogwarts to complete their N.E.W.T exams and final year at Hogwarts. You will be thrilled to learn you have also been rewarded with the position of Head Boy. Please send confirmation of acceptance or declination by July 31st.
Yours Faithfully,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration.
A handwritten note was scribbled beneath the signature.
Hogwarts is not done with you yet Potter.
Harry couldn't help but smile. He looked over at Hermione who was beaming from ear to ear, and then to Ron who looked, as usual, confused.
'Oh Harry, Ron, isn't this wonderful!' she exclaimed. 'We get to finish Hogwarts. I was terrified about what I would do you know, without proper N.E.W.T. qualifications. I hoped this would happen, in fact, I was thinking or writing to Professor McGonagall myself if I didn't get word soon.' She exclaimed, breaking into a rant.
Harry and Ron just stared at each other. Now they were in a predicament.