Harry walked off of the Hogwarts grounds and apparated to number 12 Grimmauld Place. He didn't even take care to stay out of sight. He just appeared on the sidewalk and stood there.

It was a cloudy day, and the cool breezes got through Harry's pullover and prickled his skin. He rested his arms on the wrought iron fence and leaned against it. This house was now his own, but it didn't feel like his own any more than he felt ready to be an Ambassador for Hogwarts. He couldn't even send letters now that Hedwig was gone.

And he didn't even have a grave to visit. Not for Hedwig, not for Sirius. No, this house was not his own yet.

It was a dismal place. The grass was yellow, waiting for the fall rains to begin. Waiting for the winter to crisp everything up again, to give it life and excitement. But there was no Hogwarts this year. No classes, no examinations, no books to study, no trouble to be gotten into, no Voldemort to fight. His scar was numb. It was good, really, it was the first time he'd tasted peace in his life.

It was good, really, but it needed adjusting to.

Maybe the war wasn't as over as he'd thought. With Umbridge back at the Ministry, there'd be devilry to defeat this year for sure. Just smaller mischief, easier than evil, a way for him to learn to live again.

He leaned back and gave the iron railing a kick, then walked in and up to the door.

This was his house now, he reminded himself. He'd live in it, and make a life and home in it. And he wouldn't be alone here, he reminded himself quietly. A thought had been growing in his heart ever since that day when Voldemort was finally gone. Maybe this would be the year. Maybe this would be the month, the week even. He was not going to be alone.

The door creaked open. Harry stared down the long hallway. He'd gotten rid of the tongue twisting curse that Mad Eye had placed there. He'd given the house-elf heads to Kreacher, although Kreacher had not chosen to move them. And now he stared at the veiled painting in front of him at the top of the stairs. In fact the only reason that he'd not boarded it over up to this point was that Kreacher remained absolutely devoted to his 'Mistress' and Harry appreciated that an upset Kreacher could translate into an upset stomach for Harry. Kreacher's cooking was excellent, his loyalties however remained questionable. Harry was working on Kreacher though.

All was silent, except for a muffled, tiny noise. Filth, mudbloods, scum. The familiar chant, the familiar shriek, yet almost inaudible. A silencing charm.

Homenum Revelio Harry whispered, drawing his wand.

"Suprise!"

The shout overwhelmed him, and suddenly from all corners of the house streamed Weasleys. It looked like it was all Weasleys, but Harry was to stunned to look closely. In another second more, a Granger came flying through the air at him to fold him in a distinctly Granger-ish hug. Red hair. Everywhere.

"Happy housewarming party Harry," Hermione said to him, beaming from ear to ear. "Gosh you are suprised, aren't you."

Harry carefully lowered his wand and nodded a couple times. He straightened his glasses and the room focused a bit more. The room had exploded into a brightly colored display of streamers, balloons, confetti, Weasleys of course, Weasley's-extended-family now that he noticed, bobbing dirigible plums, Neville Longbottom, and acres and acres of white-clothed tables covered with food.

"Harry come in," Mrs. Weasley said, "you're standing there like we've just handed you a dragon."

"Norberta's doing well too," Charlie shouted from one corner and raised a tankard.

"Come on, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, hauling him inside. "Close your mouth or you'll catch flies."

"I'm just a little, suprised, that's all," Harry managed to say. He'd just about stupefied the entire room a moment ago, he was so jumpy with his wand, but he didn't say that.

Everyone was here.

Harry found himself smiling.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley, pushing a ridiculous green pointed party hat out of his eyes. "Grab a plate Harry, you're first, and we're all hungry behind you so hurry up."

With an invitation like that, Harry had little thought of refusing.

"And now the big present," Ron said, "come on, you can't have a housewarming party without a really big present."

"Ron!" Hermione protested.

It was obvious from Hermione's tone of voice that the alleged 'big present' had been her idea. Harry emerged from the latest explosion of wrapping paper the proud new owner of a pair of cast-iron skillets and a checkered dishrag. Where he was going to put all this stuff he had no idea and didn't want to think about.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other and smiled and clasped each other's hands in a mushy and decidedly romantic sort of way.

"Well, stand up, because you all have to come into the kitchen," Hermione said.

Harry's glance flickered over to Ginny. She wasn't looking at him. He looked again at the Weasleys senior. Then he took a deep breath. He wouldn't even allow himself to think about it. He pushed the sensation away.

Harry was pushed and prodded to his feet, and herded into the kitchen.

"Please, Harry," Hermione said, giggling a bit, "open the back door."

It must be noted that Grimmaud place was a dismal piece of real estate and that the back door led to a two foot patch of bare dirt between the house and a brick wall. At least, Harry thought, as he turned the latch, they didn't have space to hide a dragon back there.

He flung the door open and jumped back a few feet, just for dramatic effect. It garnered the requisite laugh as Harry pretended to cower. But then Harry took the time to look.

"A Potions Garden," Ron announced and gave Harry a slap on the back that almost knocked the wind out of him. "Hermione's got a new spell, whatsit?"

"A tunneling Invisible Extension Charm," Hermione said, "It's an extension on the extension charm."

"Go on then," Ron said and pushed Harry through the door.

Harry launched through the door into the bright sunlight and a beautifully manicured garden. There were plants that he recognized, and many that he did not. But there were more than just plants. There were insects, there were lizards, there were birds and spiders. Probably a Crumple Headed Snorkack if you looked closely enough.

"Had to spy on you for weeks so they could get in and fix it up while you were out of the house," Mr. Weasley said, poking his head through the door. "Ok, come now, dessert anyone?"

Harry knelt to the ground and stroked a Blueback with a careful finger. The grass was green and healthy and long. He took a deep breath and inhaled a delightful mix of fragrances, floral scents, berry scents, spices and aromatic herbs.

"Thank you," he said turning around. Ron and Hermione and Luna and Neville and Ginny were standing in the doorway.

He knew he must be grinning like a Cheshire Cat by now. A garden was just the thing. He'd gardened at the Dursleys. That had been his only hobby there. They'd been happy to let him spend his time with the plants, and that garden had been the best on the street. But he'd never been able to use magical plants there.

His eyes met Ginny's. She blushed. Harry felt his face go hot and figured he was blushing too.

"Well, are you just standing by the door," Harry asked, "or are you coming in? Look at this place, it's huge! Hermione how did you manage this?"

"Oh well it's all Hermione's doing now is it?" Ginny pushed past the others and poked him with one finger.

"Well, I didn't mean-"

"And I after I worked my fingers to the bone for you," she said saucily.

"Thank you, Ginny."

"All right all right," Ron said, "break it up you two. Look at these spiders. I got them from Hagrid, he said they wouldn't grow up as large as Aragog's brood, but they had the same strain." He pointed at a rock and Harry looked just in time to see it scurry out of sight.

"Do me a favor," Ron said, "make lots of potions out of those buggers."

"How do you make an extension charm work like this?" Harry asked Hermione. "Where is this place?"

Hermione waltzed by him, "Magic."

It was much, much later that the party finally began to wind down. It was a strange thing, but Harry was uncomfortable with all the gifts and the small talk. When the door had closed on the last few Weasley relatives and Neville and chums had tossed their floo poweder into the chimneys, Harry felt absolutely exhausted.

One thing was certain though, it felt good to have friends.

Harry was washing up in the kitchen now, and Hermione was wielding the towel in an expert fashion. Ron was sitting at the table and magicking the dishes into their proper places in the cupboard.

"You'll get fat Ron," Hermione was saying, "and you eat so much anyways."

Ron distinctly took no notice of this statement. He sent a few sparks out of his wand, gently lifted a plate from the counter and sailed it into the cupboard without nicking it against any of the walls or other china.

"Anyways," Hermione said, "turning back to Harry. I've decided to try for a teaching position at Hogwarts. It's really destiny, you both know how I've always loved to learn, I think it's only right to share that desire with others in the best way I can. I've been meaning to talk to Professor McGonagall about it, but I wondered if I should put together a resume first, that's what muggles do and I wasn't sure-"

Harry backed away from the sink and stared at Hermione.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. Where to begin? Poor Hermione, just itching to be a teacher. Of course it was perfect for her. So perfect that everyone had assumed it. Hermione herself was devoted to Hogwarts, more so than anything else.

"What is it?"

"I spoke to McGonagal earlier today," Harry said. "I don't think you'll get a teaching position this year. She's had to let go most of the staff. The ones that are staying aren't being paid."

"What?" Ron sat up and nearly dropped a dish.

"It's true," Harry said. "She said that enrollment is down to half of what it was last year, and likely to continue that way. This could be Hogwart's last year, she said."

"Money?" Ron said, a bit disgustedly, "this is all about money? How silly! Blimey, Harry, you've got money, why don't you go on and help them out."

Harry thought back to the vault at Gringotts and all those gold galleons. He hadn't thought of it that way.

"But that won't solve the problem forever," he pointed out, "the real problem is the lack of students."

Hermione looked a bit pale. She leaned back against the counter and let Harry and Ron talk without even the slightest interruption. It gave Harry an eerie feeling.

"Well," Ron said, "students will come back, you'll see. They've just had a bit of a scare about the War and all. Once everyone feels safe again, then Hogwarts will be right as rain. Come on, the place has existed for a thousand years, they've surely survived worse than the lack of a few students."

"McGonagall asked me," Harry said, "to be an Ambassador for them. She believes that if we travel around to Beauxbaton and Durmstrang that it may help to put Hogwarts' name back on the map, so to speak."

"That's a brilliant idea," Hermione said, a bit faintly.

"Well there's no 'we' to it this time," Ron said, "I've been meaning to tell you all the good news. George has taken me for a partner in the Joke Shop."

Hermione smiled. It was a soft smile, but it was a deep smile and it lifted Harry's spirits considerably.

"That's amazing Ron," she said, "Congratulations."

"I've let a flat with him and a couple of mates down the street in Diagon Ally," Ron continued. Then he seemed to flush a bit and retreat from his excitement. "Just making my start in life."

Harry nodded. "I know. I felt that way when I first started living here."

Ron looked over at him with anything but appreciation for the sympathy expressed.

"My parents," Hermione said, "they're still in Australia."

Both Harry and Ron's jaws fell.

"But it's been months," Harry said.

Hermione sighed, "I don't think I belong in that life anymore. I've looked in on them, and they're perfectly happy. I don't think it would do anyone good if they remembered me. Besides, I don't intend to live in the muggle world again. I was going to stay here, at Hogwarts..."

The coldness in her voice shocked Harry. He'd seen her a year ago when she'd first wiped their memories, and her grief then was sharp, and he'd thought, lasting.

"But if Hogwarts is in trouble," she said.

"Hermione," Ron said, and his voice had changed in a moment to become very deep and commanding, "speaking of money. Where have you been living this past year?"

Hermione dried her hands and turned squarely to face him. "I believe that's my own business Ron Weasley. Harry, I was going to say that, since it's unlikely that I'll get a job at Hogwarts any other way, I'd love to accompany you on your mission. I could give lectures, I'm sure I could be useful."

"Of course," Harry said, "McGonagal said that she half expected all three of us to sign on. No one knows Hogwarts history better than you."

Ron stood up. The room fell silent.

Harry was distinctly aware that Ron was quite a bit larger than him. He placed his hands in his pockets, but he didn't slouch his shoulders and turn away. Somewhere in the past year, Ron Weasley had gained the confidence that had appeared to elude him all his life.

"Hermione, you can't go with Harry," Ron said.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

"Because," Ron said, "I'll go crazy with loneliness."

Hermione's steam was stolen. She opened her mouth, put her hands on her hips, then shut her mouth again without saying anything.

"Look," Ron said, "why don't you come and live with my parents. Ginny is awfully lonely now that the rest of us are gone. She's got her years to finish up and I'm sure you could tutor her through them. You could even take a job at the Joke shop. It'd only be for a little while, maybe a year, until I can save up enough money for us to-"

Hermione's face drained of color.

Ron was not to be deterred. "-buy a house." He said, "start a family. Build a life together. You know that. Don't look at me that way."

Harry's ears prickled. "You know," he said, "I'll just pop off upstairs and let you two talk this over."

"No Harry," Hermione said. "You. Stay. Right. There." She took a deep breath and looked up at Ron. "I think," she said, "that you'll be able to spare me for a semester or two at Beauxbaton and Durmstrang."

Harry coughed.

"Considering," Hermione continued loudly, "that I'll take a teaching position at either of those schools, fine schools, unless I can find one at Hogwarts. And considering that most of the clients of the Joke Shop are Hogwarts students, I'd say that both our futures are on the line, aren't they?"

Ron grinned.

Hermione grinned.

Harry would have liked to crawl into a hole in the floor.

"So we can talk about my sales commission later Mr. Weasley," Hermione said. "Harry, when do we start?"

"Kreacher," Harry said. "I don't know how I survived this party."

Kreacher looked up from the cupboards that he was dusting, wrung his dirty rag, and shook his head.

"Cobwebs gone," Kreacher muttered, "all gone. Spiders gone."

Harry sat back and stuck his feet up on the table. "There, that should add some dust again," he said.

"Thank you Master Harry," Kreacher said with a sarcastic bow.

Then he went back to grumbling.

"Do you know anything about love, Kreacher?" Harry asked.

Kreacher turned around blankly.

"Because I don't," Harry said. "Mystifying. Did you see Hermione and Ron just now? They're like cats and dogs, but they love it." Harry paused, "you know, I really believe they love each other."

Kreacher did not answer. It became apparent that he considered Harry's questions to be rhetorical. Harry sighed. It was strange. So strange. All in a moment, he'd seen a look on Ron's face, that look that one knew where one was going, that look that the captain of a ship gets when he stares across the waves. Ron was grown up.

That's the way that they said it happened. All in an instant. When the boy disappeared and the man took his place. The trio was broken.

Harry certainly didn't feel grown up. In fact, Harry had as little clue about what was going on as when Dumbledore had been sending him on quests. Perhaps it was Harry's destiny. He'd have to ask Professor Trelawney to give him a reading. The Boy Who Lived Entirely In the Dark.

Kreacher began singing a song to himself as he dusted the cabinets. Harry listened, but couldn't make out the words. As Harry watched, Kreacher's face smiled a distant, ancient smile.

Harry imagined that Kreacher must have had a love of his own once.

He was sure of it.

/

There it is! Please R& R...up next: a strange visitor