A/N This is quite an angsty chapter, so apologies if that's not your thing . Many of these first chapters will have that feel to them, happier times will come, but they're a while off yet. I'm not beta'd (and lost all my formatting in translation from .rtf!) so any mistakes are entirely my own. I hope you enjoy it, if you have any suggestions or comments then please add a note to review! Please also let me know if you prefer shorter, more frequent updates, or longer less frequent ones. Many thanks x
As ever, the characters & settings are not mine, I'm just enjoying playing with them a little bit.
Harry made his way down the stairs leading from the old dormitory he'd shared with his friends Ron, Neville and Seamus, down into the red & gold warmth of the Gryffindor common room. He found Hermione sitting on one of the comfy sofas in front of the large stone fireplace in the centre of the room, her eyes ringed red from all the tears she'd shed and sleep that hadn't yet come. She, like most he'd seen that morning, was covered in a layer of dust and grime, bathing her in grey. Tear tracks swept a path down her cheeks while her glassy, unfocused eyes looked deep into the fireplace without seeing a thing.
He took a seat at the opposite end of the small sofa, and Hermione closed the gap between them by leaning to her left to rest her head on Harrys shoulder. Harry put his arm around his friend, and rested his cheek against the top of her head. He found he appreciated the closeness of his long-time friend much more than he had anticipated he would. The warmth, the quiet and the comfort she offered adding up to an unexpected salve to his warring emotions.
The two friends sat in a companionable silence for going on for an hour, they heard the passing of other students through the common room, each coming to collect their trunks ready to leave the castle with their families, though no-one disturbed the two figures cutting a solemn statue on the sofas. It was only when the room had fallen quite still again that Hermione broke through the silence.
"Thank you" she whispered simply. "Thank you for coming down, I'm afraid I would have fallen apart without you. Thank you for every-"
"You're welcome" Harry said, cutting her off mid-sentence, not wanting to face another expression of misplaced gratitude.
It was one thing to hear it from strangers, quite another to hear it from one of his best friends. Someone he felt should have acknowledged that his role in the battle they had been through should have been enacted sooner, bringing this war to a close with so much less bloodshed. She knew as well as he did the last few months of their search had been slow and fruitless for the most part. He knew, as should she, that if he had been quicker, smarter, more able, that the losses of the previous night may not have been as great. He knew he was - at least in part - responsible for the deaths of Georges twin, Teddys parents, his friends parents, brothers, sisters and cousins. He didn't want to hear anyone thanking him for bringing this war to a close when he knew he could, and should, have done it sooner.
"We should go to the Great Hall, go to see Ron and his family" Hermione offered, noticing - but not acknowledging - Harrys interruption of her thanks. "They were asking for you before I left."
She could guess at how Harry perceived the results of the battle and his role in it, knowing the immense pressure he put on himself. She knew he'd be attributing blame to himself where no-one else ever would, just like she knew by the stony mask his face had fixed itself into, that this was not the time to push him on it. She knew that she would have to wait until the physical effects of the battle were no longer in his eye line before she could work on releasing the guilt and pain from his mind.
Upon hearing the first part of Hermiones sentence, Harry had prepared himself to refuse, wanting instead to stay where he was for a while longer before leaving the castle grounds for good. Where he would go he didn't yet know, he knew only that he couldn't stay here. He didn't have time to let his mind wander to where he could go before his brain registered the second part of Hermiones statement. He could never turn his back on his best friend, or his family when had always treated him as one of their own, however much he wanted to be alone right now. The hand he'd had in the death of Molly and Arthur Weasleys son had to be faced sooner or later. Part of him hoped they'd be the ones to finally tell him all he knew to be true, that his actions had caused more devastation than necessary and because of him they had outlived one of their children. He wanted someone to verbalise all he was thinking and feeling, if only so it was no longer internalised, out there for all to hear. Maybe then the whispers of undue thanks would subside.
He knew deep down though that Molly and Arthur would not admonish him for his role in this war, today or ever. They had been like surrogate parents to him, their family like his own, and he knew that despite the heartache they now faced in a life without Fred, they were truly good, decent and forgiving people, and though he now felt it inevitable he would lose that closeness he'd once had with them, he knew they wouldn't be the ones to voice the ire he felt due.
He was torn between wanting to see Fred one last time, to say a quiet goodbye to the boy who had never treated him any differently to other friends despite knowing of his fame from the outset, and not wanting to see close up the still features and unseeing eyes of the Weasley twin. Torn between wanting to offer his most sincere condolences to his best friend and his family, and wanting to run away from the hurt he'd inevitably see in their eyes. Torn between going public with his personal grief over the loss of his friends Fred, Tonks and Lupin, and keeping it and himself locked away to be mourned over in private.
In the end he knew he owed it to the Weasleys to face them, and, if they'd allow it, stand with them in their time of grief. They had been his surrogate family for seven years now, and in losing Fred he was losing a much loved older brother. He knew he had to see him and the others he had lost again today, to acknowledge their passing through the veil and to say his goodbyes. He knew facing his lost friends and their families would be mentally more challenging than anything he'd had to do in the previous seven years, and the tiniest part of him dared to hope that in doing this one last act that it may finally allow him some peace and quiet solitude.
First though, he would have to return to the midst of it all, where everything he didn't want to face now resided.
They walked in silence through the wide stone corridors of the castle - stepping around piles of fallen rubble - towards the Great Hall, all the time ignoring the points and the whispers of the portraits on the walls, the inhabitants having started to return where frames were still hanging. As they neared the entrance Harry subtly, subconsciously, began to slow his walk as though wading through treacle. Hermione noticed and slowed her steps to match, linking her arm with his to support him, comfort him and provide him the strength to continue.
He offered her a weak smile in return, not daring to open his mouth to speak knowing it would sound rough and heavy with emotion. They entered through the huge open wooden doors of the Great Hall, with thankfully few people remaining from when he d last been in here earlier in the day. It seemed many had already started taking their fallen loved ones away from the castle to grieve in private, and of those that remained he was grateful that only a few glanced their way as they picked a path through to where the Weasley family were stood gathered around Fred at the head of the room.
He and Hermione stopped a few metres away from the small group, Hermione releasing his arm with one last squeeze of encouragement before she stepped away to hug Ron close to her, before they began softly sobbing on each others shoulders. He found himself looking down at his friend on the floor, and not for the first time today his thoughts wandered around to how it should be him laying down there.
Ginny was the first to notice him standing quietly to the side of them, looking down at her brother with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Harry..." she said oh-so-softly, though she knew he'd heard her as his eyes had glanced up in her direction.
"Oh Harry! There you are my love" Molly said to him gently. "We've been waiting for you."
She walked over to him, closing the gap between them quickly and enveloping him in a warm embrace. Harry stood awkwardly with his arms by his side for a beat, before returning the hug. Arthur came over to the pair and clapped Harry lightly on his back before kissing his wife on the top of her head and resting his hand on her shoulder. They stood there for a few minutes the only sound an occasional soft sob from one of the group and the background whispers of those left in the hall.
After a short time had passed, Molly released Harry from the hug, stepping back just a little and keeping her hands on his shoulders as if to hold him in place while she took a good look at him. She smiled at him, a true - yet watery - smile that reached her eyes.
"I'm so pleased you're still here Harry, we've been so worried about you. No-one had seen you since this morning, we were starting to think you'd gone ahead without us."
"I came to say goodbye. To Fred, to my friends, and to you and Mr Weasley" Harry replied, trying but failing to meet her soft brown eyes.
"Goodbye dear?" Molly asked. "No need to say goodbye to us my love, now you're here we can all set off together. Since there's so many of us they've given us a portkey to take us straight back home to the Burrows".
Harry visibly straightened in shock at her words.
"I can't ret- I mean I... I need to go... "
"I think he means to tell us he has other plans my dear" Mr Weasley said gently to his wife, offering up a small smile to Harry.
"Other plans? You don't do you Harry? Wherever will you go?" Mrs Weasley asked in surprise.
"No! I don't.. its just I" Harrys voice trailed off, his fatigued brain working slowly to catch up with Mrs Weasleys expectation that he would return with them.
Molly appeared not to have heard Harry for she turned to continue speaking up at her husband "Of course he'll be coming home with us, we're his family, and we need to stick together if we're to get through this."
"Harry?" Arthur asked over at him, "you will still be joining us then my boy?"
Harry could hardly dare to believe they still thought of him as part of their family, still welcomed him into their home. He might have felt he should be alone, that he deserved to be alone, but he would never intentionally do anything to hurt Mr & Mrs Weasley and if they needed him to be there to help them recover from the loss of Fred, then he d never turn them down.
He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and replied softly "I'd love to".
Harry walked to the headmasters office with Mrs Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. As head of the family, Mr Weasley was to disapparate from inside the hall with Freds body, and George had insisted on staying with his twin. Ron and Hermione, and Bill and Fleur walked a little way in front arm in arm, each needing the other for both physical and mental support. Molly was walking with Charlie to her right and Ginny on her left, Charlies arm around his mothers waist seeming to be both holding her up and holding her together. Ginny held her mothers hand in both of hers, grasping it as if one of them would float away were they not firmly held down. Harry walked a few steps to the left and back of Ginny, a little away from the solemn group, trying to appear smaller than he was.
His last visit to this room had come just last night when he'd returned to watch Professor Snapes dying thoughts in the Headmasters pensieve. He was still struggling to reconcile the vicious, cold, taunting man he'd known for the past seven years with the stranger he'd seen risk his life, and utimately lose it, to keep Harry alive. He remembered seeing and feeling the sincerity in the professors thoughts, how deeply he had love Harrys mother Lily, and knew he'd have to mark the mans passing - even though he thought the Professor he had known would not have appreciated any sign of sentimentality from him, the son of his tormentor James Potter.
As the group reached the foot of the stairs, Harrys thoughts came back to the present and he wondered what the password was to enter the headmasters lodgings, or even if they'd need one now since he wasn't aware of anyone having been appointed to the role so soon.
Molly answered the question he hadn't voiced, "Dumbledore", and one by one they mounted the rapidly appearing staircase.
When they'd reached the top, Harry was surprised to see Professor McGonagall sitting behind the desk as if she's always been there. She peered over the top of her glasses at them al and gave a warm smile.
"The Ministry have supplied us with a portkey, Molly" she started, standing to walk across the room to them "the scroll over there by Fawkes's old perch."
"Thank you Minerva. We'll be seeing you tomorrow?" Molly queried.
"You will, you will" she soothed, leaning in to embrace the shorter woman who quickly returned the tight hug. "Is there anything at all I can do for you?"
"No, but thank you. We'll see you tomorrow afternoon at 2'o'clock"
"Aye, goodbye dears" the professor replied, looking round at the group with a ghost of a smile on her lips "Take care of each other"
They quickly assembled themselves around the scroll indicated by Professor McGonagall, and wordlessly nodded to each other to acknowledge readiness. They all touched the paper at the same time, all feeling the familiar pull around their belly buttons leading them on to their destination.
Onwards to the Burrows.
