Chapter 37, Picking up the Pieces

By

Lewis M. Brooks, III

Chapter 37 – Picking up the Pieces, Part II

Harry Apperated just outside The Burrow, and slowly made his way towards the house. Each step seemed to be more and more difficult, as if invisible hands were reaching out of the ground and pulling him down, threatening to crush him. He had to finish what he had started that day with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. This would be so much harder. The heartbreaking sound of Mrs. Weasley's sobs over Fred's lifeless body still echoed in his ears.

Harry walked up to the door of the house. His mind was racing at what he had to do. He knocked on the door and it opened. Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a hug.

"How are you, Harry dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Harry could tell she had been crying, but that wasn't unexpected. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, actually," said Harry, giving her as much of a smile as he could muster. He was hungry, but at that moment, he didn't think that was why his stomach was tied up in knots. He looked around. They were all in the living room, sitting quietly in front of the fire. Ginny was sitting on the floor. Charlie was seated next to her. Mr. Weasley was seated in his favorite chair. Bill sat with his arm around Fleur, his wife pulled close beside him. Ron and Hermione were also on the couch, Ron holding Hermione's hand. Percy and George each sat on chairs. All looked solemn and contemplative. Mrs. Weasley had just gone to the kitchen. All of them had a butterbeer, or a glass of Firewhiskey in their hands, except Ginny, who got up from where she sat and came over and slid her arms around Harry's neck.

Harry hugged her back tightly. "Are you all right?" Harry whispered in her ear.

"I am now," replied Ginny softly as they held each other.

It was obvious to Harry that Ginny had been crying, and he held her for a moment, wishing more than anything he could take her pain away. For all the pain he had within him, he would have taken all of theirs too, if he could have.

Mrs. Weasley came back from the kitchen. Harry decided it was now or never. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Could I…speak to all of you for a moment?" said Harry, his voice shaking just a little bit. Every eye in the room turned to him. He looked toward Hermione who nodded to him encouragingly. He felt Ginny slip her hand into his, as she stood close beside him, her head leaning against his shoulder. She squeezed his hand encouragingly. Having her close helped so much.

"Recent events have made me think a lot about things, and I just want to say thank you to all of you," said Harry. He felt each word was more pathetic than the last. This was even harder than he thought it would be. "I never had a family growing up, at least not one that cared about me. You've made me feel welcome and like a part of your family. I'm not sure I've ever told you what that has meant to me." He paused. "I have been told," Harry looked down at Ginny for a moment as he said it, "that I am not to blame myself for those we've lost and for the injuries we've suffered." He stopped and took a breath, and he felt Ginny squeeze his hand again. "I just want to say, I know what my coming into your lives has cost you, and I'm so very…sorry." He stopped. He had a lump in his throat so large he thought he would stop breathing.

Mrs. Weasley came over to him and hugged him tightly. Tears were falling from her eyes again. When she let him go, she took his face in her hands, and looked him in the eyes and said, "For a while yesterday, I thought that I had lost another son." She paused, and smiled a little. "I've never once regretted making you part of my family, Harry."

The lump in Harry's throat doubled in size, and he could no longer hold back the tears. The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable.

"Here, here," agreed Bill, raising his glass of Firewhiskey in the air. The others lifted their glasses and bottles as well.

It was almost more than Harry could take. All he could get out was "thank you," and Ginny hugged him again, as he cried softly into her hair.

After eating dinner, and realizing just how much he had missed Mrs. Weasley's cooking over the last year, Harry decided he would go to bed. The Weasleys and Hermione were still sitting by the fire, and he really wanted to be alone for a little while. He went upstairs and changed into his pajamas. As Harry sat on his bed in the room he shared with Ron, he thought about the day.

The battle within Harry continued to rage, fueled by the thought that there had been one person missing from the dinner table, an empty chair whose silence was the most deafening sound he had ever heard in his entire life. Harry felt like the guilt might suffocate him.

There was a knock at the door. It must be Ginny, he thought.

"Come in," said Harry softly. When the door opened, it wasn't Ginny's long ginger hair he saw, but Hermione's unmistakable brown curls. "Hey," he said weakly.

Hermione came over and sat down on the bed next to him. "How are you?" she asked, kindly.

Harry looked down at the floor. How was he? That was a good question. "I'm fine," Harry answered, wishing he could have sounded more convincing.

"You know I can read you like a book right?" asked Hermione. "Not that it would take a Legilimens to see that you're hurting." Hermione put her arm around his shoulders. "Tell me what's wrong, Harry. You can tell me."

Hermione was right. She could read him like a book. She was his best friend, and his sister in every way that mattered. She knew him so well.

"I don't know," Harry lied.

"You do and you know it," Hermione pleaded gently.

Harry stared at the floor for another minute, and then it all just came spilling out, as if a dam had burst. He no longer had the will to hold it back.

"I feel so guilty for everything," said Harry slowly. "What if I had done things differently? What if I had listened to you and not gone after Sirius? I told Cedric to take the cup with me, if I hadn't, he would still be alive. How many might still be alive if not for my mistakes? Maybe if we hadn't gone to Gringotts and had gone to Hogwarts instead, we could have prevented the final battle from happening like that. Maybe Fred, Remus, and Tonks would still be alive." Harry just blurted it all out, a tear escaping his eye. "They are all dead because of me. How could I have done that to them?"

The thought of his arrival at The Burrow played across his mind. How could they feel the way they did. He had taken away a part of them. A son. A brother. Harry had no idea how he could live with that?

Hermione sat there a moment. "You know what it's called, what you are feeling now? It's called survivor's guilt. It's a Muggle term. People that survive situations when other people don't, feel guilty that they survived."

"But I was the reason they died, not part of something bigger that I had no control over, and happened to come out of. I was raised a Muggle too, I've heard the term before, Hermione." Harry just stared at the floor. "I feel like the guilt will suffocate me. And I know my guilt hurts Ginny, and that makes me feel guiltier. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't survived. Maybe it would have been better if I had never been born."

Harry heard a floorboard creak, and looked up to see Ginny standing in the doorway, her expression blank, but her eyes were filled with pain. Neither of them had noticed that Ginny was there. Harry took a breath. He was a little afraid he was going to be yelled at again.

"How long have you been standing there?" asked Harry, looking up at her, and then quickly away, he couldn't bare the look of pain in her eyes. Her eyes were still red from crying for her brother.

"Long enough," said Ginny softly, not a trace of anger in her voice. Ginny walked over to the bed and sat on Harry's other side, putting her arm around his back, and leaning against him. "I'm sorry," whispered Ginny.

"What are you sorry for?" mumbled Harry. What could she possibly have to be sorry about? It wasn't Ginny who got Fred killed.

Before she could respond, Hermione stood up. "I'll leave you two alone." She kissed Harry's forehead and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You will be all right Harry. We're all…everyone's here for you," said Hermione, and walked toward the door. She smiled back at him with a look that said there was something more she wanted to say, but she said nothing more before closing the door behind her.

"I shouldn't have got upset at you this morning when you said Fred's death was your fault. I just didn't realize how guilty you felt, I didn't know how bad it was," whispered Ginny softly. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry wasn't going to tell her it was killing him that she was saying she was sorry, but it was. He didn't deserve her. She deserved someone who was strong and not a magnet for death, destruction, and despair. He didn't deserve anyone as wonderful as Ginny after all the terrible things he had caused.

"I know not one of them, not Sirius, not Remus, not Dobby, not Fred, or anyone else would blame you for what happened to them," said Ginny, as she rubbed his back soothingly. "No one else, not me, Mum, Dad, or my brothers, do either."

"Maybe that's the problem," said Harry softly. "I know they don't. I would rather you and your family all hated me for Fred's death. It would be easier if the dead all hated me for causing their deaths, for putting them in danger. I wish they were here to tell me what an awful, horrible person I am," said Harry, his voice cracking. He put his face in his hands. "I as good as killed them all myself the day I was born."

Ginny pulled Harry close, and pulled his head down onto her shoulder, holding onto him tightly. As he returned her embrace, his tears fell freely, and he sobbed into her shoulder, the strangled sounds of grief of the most horrible kind muffled by Ginny's sweater. Harry no longer had the strength to hold back the tears. All day he had fought the pain and guilt. No, he had been fighting it for years. He didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. He tried to cry out all the pain he had pent up for so long. So many years of holding in his feelings all came pouring out. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Mad-Eye, Dobby, Snape, Remus, Tonks, Fred, he cried for them all until he didn't think he had any tears left. Ginny rubbed his back and spoke softly in his ear, telling him it would be all right, that she would help him through it. That she would always be there for him, that she just wanted him to be all right, and that she loved him with all her heart.

At one point, Harry heard the door creak, and thought Ginny must have put up a hand to wave whoever it was away. The door creaked closed again. He wasn't sure how long they sat there, but eventually, the tears stopped. Harry assumed he must have run out, since he didn't really feel any better.

Ginny looked at him. He knew his eyes were red and swollen. The exhaustion must have been written on his face. Her eyes were still red, but Harry thought she was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

Ginny gently wiped the tears away from his cheeks and kissed him softly. "Why don't you get some sleep?" asked Ginny. "Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?"

Harry nodded. He felt a little silly, like a child who was afraid of the dark and who didn't want to be left alone at night, but that was just it. He really just didn't want to be alone. He slid under the covers and pulled them up. Ginny sat on the side of the bed. He lay there looking at the ceiling. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. His mind was swimming in grief.

A few minutes later, as Harry stared at the ceiling, he felt Ginny lie down beside him. She laid her head and shoulder on his chest, draping her arm over him. Even through the sheets and their clothing, Harry could feel the steady beat of Ginny's heart, and he could smell her flowery scent. It calmed him, and he soon drifted off to sleep.

Harry woke to see the morning sun coming through the window. Ginny hadn't moved, she was still lying there, asleep with her head on his chest. She was covered with a blanket.

It was the second day in a row he had woken up with her at his side, and he realized just what a great feeling that was, for her to be there when he first opened his eyes. The night before was fresh in his mind, and his cheeks still stung from the salty tears he had shed. He did feel a little better though, like the weight pressing down on him was a little bit lighter.

He looked at her, peacefully sleeping on his chest. 'God she's beautiful,' he thought. 'What did I ever do to deserve her?' She was an angel. Her ginger hair was gently spread across his shoulder. He would have been happy to live in this moment for the rest of his life.

It was the next thought that caused Harry to start to panic. He looked at the ceiling intently as it came to him. What would Mr. and Mrs. Weasley say when they found out they had slept in the same bed? True, they were fully clothed and hadn't done anything, but still. Visions of being beaten to within an inch of his life by an angry mob of red headed men flashed through his mind. He suddenly felt bad about teasing Ron and Hermione the day before when they came down from the boys' dormitory together, though he had a sneaking suspicion that in spite of their denial, they hadn't just talked.

Harry looked back to Ginny, and realized she was awake and smiling at him. He was about to say something, when she shook her head. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Mum came in last night after you fell asleep," said Ginny softly, with a smile. "She wanted to check on you. I told her I was going to stay with you."

Harry swallowed hard. "And she was all right with that?" asked Harry, nervously.

Ginny smiled again. "All right…no. Understanding…yes. I am her only daughter after all. She is quite protective of me, not that she really needs to be. It can get a bit annoying. If it were any other boy in the world, I wouldn't be here. She loves you like a son, and she knew you were hurting last night and needed me. I don't think we can make a habit of it though," laughed Ginny.

"That's too bad," said Harry, mustering a smile. "I rather enjoy waking up next to you."

Harry pulled her towards him and kissed her deeply. She kissed him back just as deeply. After a moment, she pulled back breathlessly, a satisfied smile on her face. "My, my, Mr. Potter," said Ginny looking deep into his eyes. "Are you trying to snog me completely senseless?"

"That was the general idea," said Harry, with a mischievous grin.

"We'll have plenty of time for that," said Ginny with a smile. Then her smile saddened. "We better get dressed and get down stairs for breakfast. It's going to be a long day."

The sobering thought of the funerals they would attend today brought Harry back to reality with a crash, like falling into an icy pool of water on the coldest day of the year. He nodded. She got up, and headed to the door, giving him one more smile before she opened the door. Harry loved her smile, he loved everything thing about her, down to the very last freckle.

"I'm still going to get hell from your brothers, aren't I?" asked Harry.

"Probably," grinned Ginny, and she left closing the door behind her.

Harry showered and dressed, and headed down to breakfast, steeled for whatever he was going to face from the six Weasley brothers. He stopped dead on the stairs. There weren't six Weasley brothers, not anymore. He suddenly wished he would go into the kitchen and have Fred there, leading his brothers in beating the crap out of him for spending the night with their sister. Harry would have gladly taken every last punch.

Harry took a breath, and continued down the stairs. Mrs. Weasley was busy getting breakfast ready. The assembled Weasley brothers around the table all gave him slightly dirty looks as Ginny smirked at them.

All except Ron. Ron grinned from ear to ear. "So, did you sleep well?" asked Ron.

Hermione was grinning, but only slightly. Her eyes were red, she had obviously been crying. Harry felt bad. Perhaps when Hermione had come up to see him the previous evening, she too needed a shoulder to cry on. At least Harry was sure she had found one.

"Okay, I deserve that," said Harry. He deserved it and he knew it. But to wake up next to Ginny was worth anything he had to endure. He knew he wouldn't get the opportunity again for a long time probably. Suddenly, a smile moved across Harry's lips.

"What's so funny?" Ron demanded.

"Nothing," replied Harry. He wasn't going to tell him that he was thinking of all the places in Hogwarts he could be alone with Ginny. 'God bless my Invisibility Cloak,' Harry thought. If Harry had any doubt, as to what the most powerful of the Deathly Hallows was, he didn't anymore.

After breakfast, they got ready for the funerals. First would be Fred's funeral, and then in the afternoon, they would Apperate to where Tonks and Remus were to be buried.

The funeral for Fred was held at the graveyard, not far from The Burrow in Ottery St. Catchpole. They walked there. It was a beautiful day. Harry thought Ginny might break his hand she was holding it so tightly as they walked. After a few minutes, he offered her his other hand, and put his arm around her shoulders. She seemed to relax a little, and Harry was happy he could at least provide a small amount of comfort to her.

No one had said much of anything that morning. Harry thought Mrs. Weasley must have warned her sons about commenting on his and Ginny's sleeping arrangements the night before. He couldn't help but think about waking up next to her. One day, he would get to do that every day, he hoped.

His pleasant thoughts ended, as they arrived at the cemetery, and made their way through the iron gates, and up to the casket. As they approached, he could hear Mrs. Weasley's sobs. Every one of them seemed to echo throughout his soul, piercing his heart like a spear.

Ginny began to cry, and Harry held her tightly, trying to comfort her, but knowing nothing he could do would bring her brother back. He would have gladly traded places with Fred to alleviate the pain she was feeling.

Dumbledore's funeral was the only wizard funeral Harry had ever attended. This was much smaller than Dumbledore's, of course. The Weasleys, as well as many members of the Order of the Phoenix, were all there. Some other relatives of the Weasleys who Harry didn't know were there. The red hair made them easy to spot. Most of the professors from Hogwarts, including Hagrid, were there, as well as many of their classmates and friends. Dean, Seamus, Neville, Luna, and Lee Jordan, the twins' best friend, were all there. Fleur's family was there as well as a lot of people Harry didn't know, but he suspected they must have worked with Mr. Weasley or Percy at the Ministry.

Harry couldn't quite believe it was real. He half expected Fred to jump out from behind the casket and start cracking jokes with George. Harry would have gladly eaten a million Canary Creams if Fred were there to give them to him.

The casket was silver in color, and had flowers all around it. There were three crests adorning the top of the casket: the Weasley family crest, the Gryffindor crest, and crest of the Order of the Phoenix. It shined brightly in the morning sun.

George stood next to the casket. "Well, here we are," George began. "It would not be right for me not to say this right from the start. If Fred were here now, he would be more than a little upset with me. I haven't given out one Ton Tongue Toffee all day." Solemn laughter could be heard through the crowd of mourners. "I haven't even set off a firework, but the day's still young, and I still haven't made one ear joke," grinned George as he pointed to where his missing ear should have been. "I haven't once teased Mum today." He smiled. "I didn't think she would appreciate it, but I think she knows, that was always our way of telling her how much we love her," he said, looking right at his mother.

Harry saw Mrs. Weasley smile through her sobs out of the corner of his eye. He was holding Ginny tight, her tears flowing freely, his own threatening to fall.

"Fred would hate this too, but I'm going to have to get mushy for a minute," said George with a sigh. He paused and took a breath, steeling himself against what he was about to say. "Other than when we would go on dates, I can hardly remember more than a few minutes at any one time, when we weren't together. For that matter, we loved to double date. I feel like something is missing, not having him standing beside me. At the same time though, I can still feel him standing here right now." George paused. Harry could tell he was fighting back tears. "I'm going to have to get used to starting and finishing my own sentences from now on. It will be very different being a solo act." George paused a moment. "I also know he wouldn't want us sitting here crying. Fred died fighting for what he believed in. He died fighting for what was right. He died fighting for all of us. That's who he was. He loved his family and friends, and he fought for them. I know he has no regrets. We will all miss him, but look at it this way…you can see a little bit of Fred every time you look at me…only I'm far more handsome." He paused again, a smile creeping across his lips. "I knew my brother quite well, and I know he would want to go out with a bang. This one's for you Fred," George finished, pulling his wand from his robes.

George swung his wand in the air, and suddenly, it seemed the sky was filled with fire. Harry's jaw dropped open at the sight. It wasn't fire. It was fireworks. Even in the bright morning sun, they shone brilliantly in the sky, as if the sky behind them darkened just to let them sparkle a little bit brighter. They exploded in every colour imaginable, popping and whistling. Some of them formed animals that chased across the sky, bobbing and weaving around each other. Others turned into flowers, and some just threw sparks in every direction. It was beautiful. Finally, after nearly five minutes, the fireworks all disappeared from the sky, and suddenly, George was in the air on his broom, a second broom, shadowing him with no rider. George swished his wand in the air, and there was a loud bang, and one last firework, a bright red and gold 'W' blazed across the sky overhead, as George, and the unoccupied broom beside him sped into the sky in the direction of The Burrow.

As they started to walk back to the house, Harry looked at Ginny. "Are you all right?" asked Harry, squeezing her hand gently.

"Better than I thought I would be," said Ginny, looking up at him and smiling, tears glistening in her eyes. "George is right. Fred would have loved that."

Harry kissed her forehead. Harry knew Ginny was right. Fred would have loved it.

A thought crept across Harry's mind, and a smile reached his lips. Ginny noticed the smile. "What are you thinking?" asked Ginny softly.

"I was just thinking how much Fred and Sirius were alike. I'll bet they are both planning a prank on my parents right now," Harry finished. Sirius had a mischievous side so much like the Weasley twins.

Harry couldn't help think that George left out the part where Fred had died because of Harry Potter. No, Harry knew that wasn't true, but he couldn't help but feel that way. Somehow though, in spite of that thought, Harry felt a little bit better after the funeral. He wasn't sure why, but he did. Maybe it was the thought of his godfather and Fred playing a prank on his parents. It was so different from what he felt after Dumbledore's funeral, but the road ahead had a lot to do with how he had felt that day. Today, the road ahead felt nearly as daunting.

The funeral for Tonks and Remus was much more solemn. They were leaving behind a son, not even a two months old. Harry could hear Teddy crying in his grandmother's arms the whole time. Teddy was even younger than Harry was when his parents died. The sound of Teddy's cries tore Harry's heart in two. Harry wondered if he had cried when his own parents died. Harry was too young to remember.

A wizard Harry did not know talked about how Tonks and Remus loved each other and loved their son and had died defending everything that was important to them. Harry couldn't help thinking of his own parents. Had someone said that at his parents' funeral?

Harry didn't immediately walk away from the twin caskets as everyone else did. When everyone else had left, he stood there with Ginny by his side.

"Are you all right?" asked Ginny.

Harry thought a moment. "I don't know," whispered Harry, his voice emotionless.

Harry let go of Ginny's hand and walked closer to the two caskets. They both sat before him, the setting sun shining off them brilliantly. On the left was Tonks, the Metamorphmagus who was always so much fun to be around. She had given Remus so much happiness after he had been denied it for so long. On the right was Remus, the last of his father's friends. Remus was the last of the Marauders. An enchanted map in Harry's school trunk was all that remained of Wormtail, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs.

Harry took a breath and spoke. "Tonks, I want to thank you, for giving Remus the happiness he deserved," said Harry. "I know how much he loved you, and I'm glad he was able to be happy, even if it wasn't for very long. You've been a good friend, and I appreciate all you did for me." He turned to the casket on the right. "Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony, together again forever," said Harry, his voice cracking as he tried to smile, but failed. "I'll think of you, Remus, when the moon is full. I'll be glad to know you're at peace. I know that I never told you, but I really thought of you as a second godfather after Sirius died." He felt Ginny put her arm around his back, and slip her hand in his.

Harry could not hold back the tears, so he did not try. "I'll tell Teddy all about both of you, I promise. I'll make sure he knows how much you loved him, and I'll always be there for him. I never had that when I was little. I swear Teddy will."

Harry and Ginny walked away from the caskets, toward the gates, so they could Apperate back to The Burrow. As they walked, Harry thought he felt a little bit better. He felt like he had had a chance to say goodbye to Tonks and Remus. Was it as simple as that? Was that all it took to ease the pain, if only a little? Could saying goodbye really help that much? He never got that opportunity with his parents or Sirius.

Unfortunately, Fred, Tonks, and Remus' funerals were not the last they had to attend. They attended funerals for Colin Creevey as well as several Order members over the days following Fred, Tonks, and Remus' funerals.

When they were not attending funerals, Harry and the Weasley boys played Quidditch, wizard chess, or Exploding Snap, Ginny played too sometimes, when she could tear herself away from little Teddy. Ginny, Hermione, Fleur, and Mrs. Weasley spent a lot of time fussing over the baby. Harry tried to spend time with Teddy, but just looking at him made him have to blink back tears. It was strange, when he looked at Teddy, he didn't think of Remus and Tonks, he thought of his own parents. Harry hoped that in time, he would be able to keep his promise to be there for Teddy. As it was, he could hardly stand to be in the same room with him.

Harry tried to just enjoy being with his family. The guilt, pain, and loss were still ever present, always threatening to strike, especially when someone mentioned Fred or Remus or Tonks or anyone else that had been lost. Ginny could tell when he was feeling it. It was like she had radar for when he was feeling guilty, or thinking about someone who was gone. She was like a Patronus, keeping the pain and guilt at bay. She would sense it, and he would feel her hand in his, or her arms around him without even having to tell her what he was feeling. It must have been written all over his face he thought, and only Ginny could see it.

They spent a lot of time talking. She gently coaxed Harry into talking about all that had happened, something Hermione and Ron had never had much success with. They talked about all the things that had happened over the years. They talked about Harry's parents and Sirius. They talked about the night Dumbledore died. They talked about the night in the graveyard when Cedric died. They talked about it all. They even talked about his horrible life before Harry found out he was a wizard. When Ginny found out the Dursleys had made Harry sleep in a cupboard until he was eleven years old, it was all Harry could do to stop Ginny from hunting them down and cursing them. Ginny constantly reminded Harry that none of it was his fault. Harry was amazed that it was so easy to talk to Ginny about things that he had never been able to talk to anyone about before, things that hurt him more deeply than anyone could ever understand.

There were still times that it all hit Harry really hard though. No amount of talking with Ginny was going to make it all go away.

One morning, Harry was playing Quidditch with Bill, Charlie, George, Ginny, and Ron. Hermione was watching from the ground, cheering them on. It was a good time.

After playing for a couple of hours, it was time for lunch. Harry landed and went to the broom shed to put away his Firebolt. He still couldn't believe it had not been lost when they were fleeing Privet Drive.

When Harry opened the door to the shed, he stopped dead in his tracks. A jumble of old broom sticks lined one side of the shed. On the other side, where they kept all their current brooms, there was a single broom. It was Fred's broom. Had he never been the last to get his broom or first one to put it away since the funeral? Somehow, he hadn't seen the single broom alone like that.

Waves of guilt crashed over Harry like a stormy sea on a rocky coastline. It suddenly became very hard for Harry to breathe.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Charlie, landing behind him. It broke Harry out of his thoughts for a moment. Charlie must have noticed him staring into the shed.

"Nothing," said Harry breathlessly. Harry placed his Firebolt beside Fred's broom in the shed feeling like that simple act was obscene and degrading to Fred's memory. "I'm not…really hungry, I'm going to go for a walk."

Before anyone could say anything, Harry walked away briskly. The image of Fred's broom was etched in his mind. It was like it was taunting him, reminding him of what he had caused.

After a few minutes walking, he was far enough from the house that he was alone. Harry sat and leaned against a tree. The thought kept going through his mind over and over that Fred should have been on that broom playing with them. Tears fell from his eyes, and he stared at the ground in front of where he sat. They were silent tears. He had cried so many that he was passed the point of sobbing. He was almost numb, and he just let the tears fall.

Harry tried to tell himself what Ginny told him every time he felt this way. She reminded him of all the good he had done, and the people he had saved. She told him it wasn't his fault. Deep down, Harry knew she was right, but it didn't mean he still didn't feel responsible.

As Harry sat, he heard footsteps of several people coming toward him, and he had a pretty good idea who one of them was.

Ginny sat down beside him and leaned against him, slipping one hand around his back, tenderly brushing the tears from his cheeks with her other hand. As she did that, Ron knelt down in front of him, Hermione standing beside him.

"Are you all right?" whispered Ginny.

"I'm fine," said Harry. "I just saw Fred's broom and…" Harry trailed off, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Ginny rested her head on his shoulder. "It's not your fault Harry," whispered Ginny softly.

It always amazed Harry how she could put her own grief over her brother's death aside and worry about how he felt. Harry didn't think he deserved it.

"I know. It's just…I don't know," said Harry with a sigh. "I just keep thinking…if I had never met any of you that day on Platform Nine and Three Quarters…Fred might still be alive. I know, I shouldn't think like that, but… It's just so hard." Harry paused. "And I'm sorry, I know it's so much harder for all of you. Really…I'm not forgetting that. I feel selfish getting upset. He was your brother. I just can't help it…"

Harry put his face in his hands. Ginny rubbed his back and placed her other hand on his shoulder.

Ron looked from Ginny to Harry, and up at Hermione, who was frowning. "Maybe you're right," said Ron flatly.

Harry and Ginny both looked up at Ron. Hermione and Ginny were both staring daggers at Ron. If looks could kill, Ron would be dead where he knelt, but Ron dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Harry looked back at the ground. He wasn't sure how it felt for someone to agree with him for a change. Had he been less upset he might have seen what was coming.

"If we had never met, Fred might still be alive," said Ron, pausing as he stood up. "That's entirely possible." Ron paused, and in the most deliberate and cold tone Harry had ever heard from Ron, he continued, "And Ginny's skeleton would be lying in the Chamber of Secrets forever."

The silence that followed those words was deafening. Harry's head shot up, a shiver traveling up his spine, his blood running cold, and he could feel his chest tighten. Ron's face was stoic, and Hermione's eyes were closed.

If they had never met, would Ginny be dead? Surely someone else would have saved her. But they might not have. Could Ginny really have been dead if the Weasleys had never met him?

Ginny had reminded him how he had saved her many times, but for some reason, Harry had never thought that she would have died if he hadn't. In the back of his mind, he had just assumed someone else would have saved her. Somehow, Ron's words made him wonder if that were true.

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't so sure. No one else could have spoken Parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets. Fawkes would not have come to just anyone, it was Harry's loyalty to Dumbledore that had drawn him to the Chamber of Secrets that day. Not just anyone could have pulled the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat. As obvious as it all was, it seemed like a revelation to Harry. Ginny might have died without him.

"I'm not the smart one," said Ron, his voice somewhat less harsh as Hermione took hold of his arm. "That's Hermione's job, but I do know that Fred would have traded his life for Ginny's in a minute, without hesitation. Any of us would. So if you insist on blaming yourself for Fred's death, just remember, the tradeoff is Ginny's life. Fred would not regret it in the least. You don't have anything to feel guilty about." Ron turned and walked away, Hermione still holding onto his arm as they went.

Harry had felt Ginny shudder when Ron said they'd trade their lives for hers. Harry put his arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Ginny looked into his eyes, and Harry looked back. He could see the pain in her eyes, as he knew she could see the pain in his.

"He's right you know," Ginny informed him softly. "I would never want them to, but any one of them would have traded their life for mine."

Harry could see how hard it was for her to hear what Ron said and for her to say what she did, but he knew she was right.

Harry looked towards Ron and Hermione as they walked away. "Ron," Harry called after him.

Ron stopped and turned around, a blank expression on his face, Hermione still clinging to his arm.

"Thanks," said Harry. Ron nodded, smiled slightly, turned and he and Hermione headed to the house.

Harry pulled Ginny into a hug and just held her tightly, burying his face in her ginger hair. The thought of what could have happened to her if he had never met the Weasleys was more than frightening to him. It was more frightening than all the horrors he had ever witnessed. How could he ever regret meeting them?

"I'm sorry," said Harry into her neck, his voice muffled by her hair.

"Don't be sorry, Harry," replied Ginny softly. "I love you, and I just want you to be all right. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"I know. It's just so hard sometimes," said Harry. "I don't know what I would ever do without you. I love you so much, Ginny."

Harry could sense the smile cross her lips. "You won't have to find that out Harry, not ever, I promise," said Ginny. "I'm not going anywhere."

A week after the funerals, Hermione announced that she was going to Australia to get her parents. She had put a charm on them so they would be safely away while she was with Ron and Harry searching for the Horcruxes. Ron insisted on going with her.

Harry was glad Ron was going too. Hermione had seemed different since the day after Voldemort fell. She was quieter than Harry had ever known her to be, and she rarely smiled, or spent any time away from Ron. Harry knew he wasn't the only one feeling the pain and loss, and he was very happy that Ron and Hermione were finally together.

Harry knew it would be hard for Hermione to explain all of what had happened to her parents. Hermione's parents didn't know anything about the war. Harry thought her parents were very lucky to know nothing about the war, and he was very glad Ron was going with her.

As the days went on, Harry saw less and less of many of the Weasleys. Charlie had gone back to Romania and Bill and Fleur had gone back to Shell Cottage, Bill resuming his job at Gringotts. George stopped by occasionally, but spent most of his time at the store. With Ron and Hermione gone, this left Harry, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Tonks, and Teddy at The Burrow. Harry and Ginny spent their days talking, playing wizard chess, flying, and as often as possible finding a quite place to be alone.

The day before Ginny was to return to Hogwarts, she and Harry took a picnic lunch and found a nice place under a tree far away from the house. After lunch, they just enjoyed the day. Harry leaned against the tree, Ginny sat in front of him, leaning back against him. He had his arms around her, and Ginny was gently rubbing his arms.

"How did you sleep?" asked Ginny.

"Not too bad," Harry lied.

This was the last question he wanted her to ask him, yet she had been asking him nearly every day. Harry had started to have nightmares shortly after the funerals for Fred, Tonks, and Remus. He kept seeing his parents murdered by Voldemort and Sirius falling through the veil in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. He refused to have her worrying about him while she was back at school, so he didn't tell her. She already worried too much about him.

With Ron gone, a simple silencing charm prevented anyone from hearing him at night, when he would wake up, often screaming. He was getting just enough sleep to manage without looking like he wasn't sleeping. He didn't feel at all good though. The lack of sleep was taking its toll.

"You look a little tired, are you sure you are okay?" asked Ginny.

"Absolutely," said Harry, as he kissed the side of her head. It wasn't a complete lie. Except for the nightmares and fatigue from lack of sleep, Harry was feeling much better than he had in the days just after the battle. He just tried to keep his mind off his parents and Sirius. The nightmares were keeping the images of their deaths vivid in his mind. Talking with Ginny about everything was really making it easier, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the nightmares.

"Are you going to be okay while I'm back at school?" asked Ginny seriously.

Harry could hear the worry in her voice. "Please don't worry about me," said Harry. "I'm feeling a lot better lately. I'm going to be fine."

Harry was dreading Ginny leaving. It wasn't that he needed her to help drive away the thoughts that had plagued him. Harry found the need to have Ginny beside him to keep the darkness at bay was lessening. Now he just wanted her there to spend time with her. He couldn't bear the thought of not having her near him. "I am going to miss you terribly though," breathed Harry, kissing her neck. He felt her shudder as he did, and she sighed.

"It's only for three weeks," said Ginny. "But I'm going to miss you too, Harry." The sadness dripped from her voice with every word.

"I love you, Ginny," Harry whispered in her ear. "I'll love you always."

Ginny turned her head leaned sideways and looked up at him, gazing into his eyes. "And I love you too." She smiled. "I'll love you always."

Harry leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, then more passionately. Three weeks without kissing Ginny would seem like a lifetime.

The next day, Harry and Mrs. Weasley took Ginny to King's Cross so she could return to Hogwarts for the last three weeks of the school year.

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley said their goodbyes while Harry loaded Ginny's trunk onto the train. It was raining hard, and it matched Harry's mood. He had been dreading saying goodbye. Their relationship was certainly no secret, but they tried not to seem too friendly when Ginny's parents were around. Harry had the distinct impression neither Mr. nor Mrs. Weasley were at all bothered by their relationship, but she was their daughter, and he knew they couldn't help being protective.

Harry heard Ginny say to her mother, "Take care of him." Harry hated that Ginny would worry. Harry knew she could tell he wasn't sleeping well, but Ginny hadn't pushed him on it. The nightmares were continuing. Harry had found an Invigoration Charm, and it was giving him the strength to get through the days.

Ginny took Harry's hands and looked into his eyes. "Three weeks will be gone before we know it," said Ginny, trying to smile, but not doing so very convincingly.

Harry put his hand on her cheek, and softly slid his thumb back and forth lovingly. "I'll write to you every day," said Harry. He pulled her close to him and kissed her with as much passion as he ever had. She melted against him, putting her arms around his neck.

The kiss seemed to go on for hours, but it was nowhere near long enough. The whistle blew, and it was time for Ginny to board the train.

It took a tremendous effort for Harry to let go of Ginny. He watched her board the train, and then Harry stood beside Mrs. Weasley and watched until the train was out of sight, and only a faint puff of smoke was visible in the distant sky.

Harry just stood there staring off in the distance. He already missed her. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get home, Harry," suggested Mrs. Weasley. Harry noticed she had an odd smile on her face.

When they got back to The Burrow, they both went into the kitchen. Harry could think only of Ginny. He knew she was just away for three weeks. The time would go by quickly, and they would be back together. At least, he kept telling himself that. Believing it was another matter. He felt bad that he had hardly noticed that Ron and Hermione were away, but now he would have given anything to have them around to talk to.

"I'll get lunch in a few minutes, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley with a smile.

Harry nodded. "I'm going to go upstairs and write Ginny a letter so it will get to her in the morning," said Harry, heading for the stairs.

"Harry," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes," said Harry, turning around.

"Are you in love with my daughter?" inquired Mrs. Weasley, her tone betraying none of what she was feeling.

Harry froze. Why was she asking that? He wasn't sure what to say. He knew he could not lie to her though.

"Yes…I am," Harry informed her, a smile spreading across his face. "I love her more than anything else in the world. How did you know?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Well, besides the fact that the two of you have been joined at the hip for the past two weeks…on the platform, when the train pulled out, you had the same look on your face that Arthur gets when he says goodbye to me."

Harry grinned. "That obvious?" asked Harry.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "You had better get that letter written so Ginny will get it in the morning," said Mrs. Weasley.

As the days dragged on, Harry's nightmares continued, and the Invigoration Charm was only doing so much. Harry knew Mrs. Weasley sensed something was wrong, but she wasn't prying, and he wasn't offering.

Harry could think of nothing but Ginny coming home. His days were filled with helping Mrs. Weasley around the house, going flying, and writing letters to Ginny as well as to Ron and Hermione who were still in Australia.

Harry had made sure Ginny received a letter at breakfast every day she was away. Pigwidgeon was exhausted, but the overly excited owl seemed happy to take the daily letters.

In the evenings, Harry and Mr. Weasley would talk about Muggle things. Harry finally had the opportunity to explain to him what a rubber duck was for.

It was nice not to have anything he needed to do. Since Sirius' death two years earlier, the prophecy was his purpose. He was the Chosen One. Now, Harry enjoyed just being Harry, though he would have enjoyed it a lot more if Ginny were around.

Ginny's letters came every few days, always apologetic that she hadn't written sooner, but she had a lot of homework and had been studying for final exams. Harry understood, but was still disappointed when a day went by with no letter.

About a week after Ginny left, Harry mentioned to Mrs. Weasley that he was going to go live at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He didn't want to impose any longer. Mrs. Weasley told him in no uncertain terms, he was staying with them through the summer, and after the next school year until he wanted to get his own place. She knew very well he did not want to live at his godfather's house, and told him he was anything but an imposition. Harry quickly put the idea of moving to Grimmauld Place out of his mind. He didn't want to incur the wrath of Mrs. Weasley and, honestly, he really liked it at The Burrow.

Harry did plan to visit Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place before Ginny returned. He, Ron, and Hermione had left in a hurry and still had some of their things there. Harry thought he would pick everything up, and he wanted to talk to Kreacher. Harry didn't like the idea of having a servant, but he didn't know if Kreacher wanted to be free. Not all house elves did.

Harry spent a lot of time thinking about Ginny. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The obvious thought to propose to her went through his mind, but Harry didn't feel ready for that. He was still a mess inside and he needed get himself right before he thought of marrying Ginny. Though he had to admit, the thought of marrying Ginny made him very, very happy.

A week before Ginny was to return home Harry was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Tonks and Teddy were still asleep. Harry still couldn't bring himself to spend a lot of time with his godson. Harry could only describe what he felt like when he looked at Teddy as profound sadness, almost like being around a Dementor. He wondered if he would ever be able to spend time with the child and keep the promise he made to Tonks and Remus.

An owl tapping on the window interrupted Harry's thoughts. He didn't recognize the owl, it wasn't Pigwidgeon, and it wasn't one of the usual owls from Hogwarts.

Harry opened the window, and the owl waited while Harry untied the letter from its leg. It was addressed to 'Mr. Harry Potter,' but Harry didn't recognize the writing.

"Is it from Ginny?" asked Mr. Weasley, as he sipped his tea.

Harry looked at the letter. "No," said Harry. He sat back at the table and looked at the letter.

"Isn't that the Minister's seal?" asked Mrs. Weasley looking across the table at the letter in Harry's hands.

"It looks like it," replied Harry. He knew Kingsley Shacklebolt had been appointed temporary Minister of Magic, but he had no idea why he would be sending him a letter. Harry opened the letter and read it.

Dear Harry,

I hope you are well and enjoying a much-deserved rest. I know it's been said countless times, but we all owe you our lives.

If you haven't seen today's Daily Prophet yet, then you don't know that my temporary appointment, as Minister of Magic has been made permanent. I have a couple of items I would like to discuss with you. Would it be possible to meet me at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place at two o'clock today? I thought that would be more private than my office. I can't seem to go anywhere without press following me. If it is not possible, please reply by owl, otherwise I will assume I will see you there.

Sincerely,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Minister of Magic

He handed the letter to Mr. Weasley. Harry had no idea what Kingsley could want. "What do you make of it, Mr. Weasley?" asked Harry.

Mr. Weasley read the letter twice before handing it to his wife. "I don't know," said Mr. Weasley. "It's great news that Kingsley's appointment is permanent, I can't think of anyone better for the job. I don't know what he wants to see you about, but it's Kingsley, I wouldn't worry about it. The Ministry will very soon be a much different place than it has been in recent years," finished Mr. Weasley as he drained his mug of tea.

Harry was curious about what Kingsley could want, and on his first day as permanent Minister no less, but this was Kingsley, not Cornelius Fudge or Rufus Scrimgeour, so Harry wasn't worried, but he was very curious.

At two o'clock, Harry opened the door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The place didn't look in bad shape. The first thing he noticed was that the curse meant to stop Snape was gone. Harry had been sure the Death Eaters would have been all over the house, but the place looked neat and clean, much cleaner than it was the last time he saw it. Harry thought he knew why.

Harry just stood there a minute. Everywhere he looked, he could see Sirius practically climbing the walls all those months spent cooped up here. Harry knew how miserable it had made him. The memories were raw, and Harry tried to push them from his mind, but he knew being in this place made that nearly impossible.

Not all the memories were bad though. He remembered how happy Sirius had been when they were all there for Christmas the year before he died. This memory brought a smile to Harry's face. Harry heard a 'pop' and turned around to see Kreacher.

"Hello, Harry Potter," said Kreacher. "The Minister is in the kitchen, awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you, Kreacher," said Harry. "You've done a wonderful job cleaning up the house. It looks great."

"Thank you, Harry Potter," replied Kreacher with a bow.

Harry walked down the steps to the kitchen and found Kingsley sipping tea at the kitchen table.

"Harry," said Kingsley cheerfully, standing to greet him. "Wonderful to see you."

"Glad to see you too, Minister, and congratulations," said Harry. Harry knew Mr. Weasley was right. Kingsley was the best man for the job. Harry stuck his hand out and Kingsley shook his hand.

"First," began Kingsley with a grin, "my friends call me Kingsley. Second, thank you. Kreacher prepared us some tea, why don't we chat a bit, then we can get down to business."

Harry and Kingsley each drank their tea, and made small talk. Kingsley wanted to know how Harry had been, and Harry asked Kingsley about being Minister. It was a very pleasant time.

After they finished their tea, Harry sat back in his chair. "So, Kingsley, what business did you want to discuss?" questioned Harry.

"Headmistress McGonagall contacted me regarding your request that Professor Snape's portrait be hung in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts," said Kingsley.

Harry wasn't sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't that. "Yes. It's only appropriate, as his deserting his post was part of his cover," said Harry.

Kingsley sighed. "You see, Harry, here is the problem. I have no issue with taking your word that Snape was on our side, and that his killing Professor Dumbledore was arranged," explained Kingsley. "Based on that, I would be happy to recommend that the Board of Governors order his portrait installed immediately, which they would of course do."

"But," said Harry.

"But," began Kingsley with a sigh, "I'm a politician now, and there are certain things that just have to be done. I can't authorize his portrait without being able to provide your account of these events. I'm truly sorry Harry, I know how much you hate seeing your name in public, but I just can't authorize the portrait without a statement from you that I can release to the public."

Harry could tell that Kingsley meant it when he said he was sorry. Harry understood his predicament. Kingsley had been asked to take a person believed to have murdered the previous Hogwarts Headmaster and bestow upon him a great honor. Some people were bound to take offense.

"You do realize I have no evidence, only my word," said Harry. This wasn't completely true, he had kept the memories Snape had given him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to make them public. Some of what he learned in those memories was private.

"Harry, I know past dealings with the Ministry and Daily Prophet have been horrible for you," said Kingsley. "Believe me when I say, a detailed account of Snape's activities will suffice. I can promise you, this is all we need, a statement to release to the public with a statement of my support, and then the announcement that the portrait is being put up, and that's all."

"Kingsley, some of the details are very personal to me," said Harry slowly. "If, just between us, you are agreeable for me to omit these certain details, then I'll be happy to do it. Professor Snape deserves to have his name cleared."

Kingsley smiled at him and nodded. "Why don't you come to the Ministry tomorrow, to my office, and we'll take your statement and prepare it for release."

"That would be fine," Harry replied.

Kingsley was quiet for a moment. "I am afraid I have some rather unfortunate news, but I feel you have the right to know before it shows up in the Daily Prophet tomorrow," said Kingsley.

"What's happened?" asked Harry concernedly.

"It's about the Malfoys," said Kingsley slowly. "Narcissa has managed to convince enough members of the Wizengamot that her actions in helping you in the Forbidden Forest are proof that her family has reformed. It will be in the paper tomorrow and Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco will be released tomorrow as well. They aren't completely free. They will be subject to searches of their residences and will be monitored to make sure they aren't associating with known dark arts supporters, but other than that, they will be free. I don't know if it helps, but I have spoken to Lucius, and he really seems to have realized the error of his ways."

Harry just stared at him, then down at the table, but Harry said nothing. He thought it was strange, he wasn't even angry at this news. His honest reaction was that he didn't even care. After all the things the three of them had done, they were going to get away with everything.

"You know, Kingsley," said Harry, looking back up at him. "I should be livid. I should want to go give the Wizengamot a piece of my mind. Two months ago, this news would have made me completely enraged. But now I don't think I even care." Harry smiled.

Kingsley looked at Harry. "I wasn't expecting that reaction," replied Kingsley. "I thought you would be rather upset."

"Don't get me wrong," began Harry, "I hate to see them get away with everything they've done. But, I think maybe facing death has made me realize, I've spent too much time in my life thinking about people named Malfoy and others like them. I have a lot better things to think about." Harry smiled again, thinking of Ginny. "Life is too precious to waste a minute of it."

Kingsley smiled. "You are a wise man, Harry Potter. You remind me a lot of a wizard I once knew," said Kingsley. "You remind me an awful lot of Albus Dumbledore."

"Thank you," was all Harry could say. He couldn't think of a greater compliment. Somehow he didn't feel quite deserving of it though, maybe one day, but not yet.

"There is more," said Kingsley. "As you may know, Dolores Umbridge was under investigation into her activities at Hogwarts while still working at the Ministry for the year following her brief time as High Inquisitor and Headmistress at Hogwarts. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was preparing to arrest her. When the Death Eaters seized control of the Ministry of Magic, she was, apparently, made a Death Eater. She fought alongside them in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Harry was having a little less success ignoring this. Harry ran his finger over the scars that were still showing on the back of his right hand.

"She is going to go to Azkaban," said Kingsley. "She had too many friends to get life, but she will go away for a very long time."

Harry nodded. "Let me know when she's up for parole," said Harry. "I'll want to testify."

Kingsley nodded. "Somehow I knew you would," grinned Kingsley.

Harry stood up to leave, but Kingsley motioned him to stay. "There is one other thing?" asked Kingsley. "What are you planning to do with this house?"

"I haven't given it much thought," said Harry. "I'm not going to live here. Does the Order have any use for it?"

Kingsley smiled. "Yes, actually," said Kingsley. "Too many people know about this house for it to be a secret location, but the Order of the Phoenix's secrecy was largely due to You Know…Voldemort." Kingsley seemed to struggle to get the name out. "With him gone, I would like to continue to use it for the Order. I am giving the Order of the Phoenix official status with the Ministry. It will stay autonomous, but by being recognized by the Ministry, the Order will be in a better position to help protect the wizarding world from threats. I just needed a place to make their official headquarters."

This was perfect, Harry thought. Sirius would be happy that his family home would continue to be used for good. "Consider it done. This house now belongs to the Order of the Phoenix. Do you need me to sign anything to that effect?" asked Harry.

"I'll get the paperwork for you to sign when you come to my office tomorrow," said Kingsley. "Thank you, Harry," he said with a smile. Kingsley shook Harry's hand, and headed towards the door. He stopped and turned back towards Harry. "I'll be in touch about scheduling the ceremony."

"What ceremony is that?" inquired Harry curiously.

Kingsley smiled. "The Order of Merlin Ceremony, of course," Kingsley informed him. "Neville Longbottom will be receiving the Order of Merlin, Third Class. Ron and Hermione will each be receiving the Order of Merlin, Second Class, and you of course, will be receiving the Order of Merlin, First Class. I know you probably would rather forget all that's happened, but it would be my greatest honor to present you with the Order of Merlin."

Harry couldn't say he was surprised. He had hoped this wouldn't happen, but he knew better.

"All right," said Harry softly. "Let's just try not to make it a complete circus."

Kingsley laughed. "I'll do my best," said Kingsley, and he headed out of the kitchen.

A few moments later, Harry heard the front door close.

Harry collected up his, Ron, and Hermione's belongings. There wasn't that much, but he collected it all up in a trunk, and dragged it in front of the fireplace. He was planning to Floo back to The Burrow.

"Kreacher," called Harry.

With a 'pop,' the elf was in front of him, Regulus' locket hanging proudly around his neck.

"What can I do for you, Harry Potter?" asked Kreacher with a bow.

"I am giving this house to the Order of the Phoenix to use as their headquarters permanently," Harry informed him.

Kreacher looked at the ground. "We will be leaving the house permanently, master?" asked Kreacher, a look of mild panic on the little elf's face.

Harry could see the thought of leaving this house was very difficult for him. "That's up to you," said Harry. "Do you want to stay here?"

"Kreacher has always lived here, but Kreacher's home is with his master," said the elf.

"I can't stay here Kreacher. There are too many memories here. If you would like to stay here and maintain the house for the Order of the Phoenix, I will free you and see that the Order pays you for your services to maintain the house," said Harry.

The elf seemed to be thinking it over. "Kreacher would…like to stay," said the elf.

Harry smiled, and pulled a sock out of his pocket and handed it to the elf. "Thank you for everything, Kreacher," said Harry.

The elf bowed low, and then with a 'pop,' he was gone. Harry looked into the flames in the fireplace for a second. He picked up a handful of Floo powder from the pot next to the fireplace, and threw it into the fire. The emerald flames shot up. Harry took one last look around at his godfather's house, and hauled the trunk into the fire, saying "The Burrow," loudly, as he disappeared into the flames.