All Those Years
Chapter 2: The First Day
Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter only in my dreams.
Harry
After Ginny left his room, Harry sat on his bed for a while, then got dressed and headed down to the common room to sit by the fire. He didn't want to see Ron right away because when Ron had caught Harry and Ginny kissing last summer, Harry had promised him that he wouldn't mess around with her anymore. He did not intend to get together with Ginny, and yet he'd kissed her. Now Ginny, who rarely cried, was in tears. Harry felt doubly guilty. If Ron didn't call that messing around, Harry didn't know what it could be called. All he knew is that he felt terrible. Ginny, the girl who he'd broken up with for her own good and with whom he needed to stay broken up with for the same reason, was crying because of him. He had broken his promise to Ron, and made Ginny and himself unhappy.
So Harry walked down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, and as he sat staring at the blazing, ruby fire, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Hermione's face, and her words coupled with his own doubts about his decision not to date Ginny put some hope in his mind. Maybe after the commotion from the battle at Hogwarts settled down, and after he'd cleared it with Ron, he could start to see Ginny again. With that hope in the back of his mind, he knew that he could keep away his tears for the time being. And so Harry went to talk to Ron. Not about Ginny yet, but that would come soon.
On his way up to his dormitory, a blur that was Hermione dashed by him, saying that she had to go to the library at least once more before she left Hogwarts. Everybody was leaving that day to stay at the Burrow for the summer. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had not finished their education, but they knew that they would not be impeded from doing anything in the future because of who they were and what they'd been able to do at the age of 17. Even so, they were planning to study over the summer and then take their NEWTs come fall. Everything was falling nicely into place.
When Harry reached the open door of the dormitory that had been where he'd slept since he was eleven years old, it was to find a stunned-looking Ron standing there. "The library," he said. "We've just won a war, and she wants to go to the library?" Harry looked at his best friend, and they both burst out laughing. Life, while still filled with its many obstacles, was somewhat back to normal.
Mrs. Weasley
Molly Weasley was a very emotional witch on the best of days. Right now, her emotions were even more muddled than usual. Her son had died, so she was understandably full anguish, but she was elated that the war against Voldemort was over and that they had won. She was worried, confused, and exhausted, but most of all, Molly Weasley was extremely proud of all of her children, including Harry and Hermione, who were hers in her heart.
Now, Mrs. Weasley was preparing for her son's funeral and for Harry's and Hermione's summer at the Burrow. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had decided to spend the night at Hogwarts, and Ginny had stayed with them too. Mrs. Weasley knew that this summer could be the last one during which Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed with her, and she was certainly happy that they had chosen to stay, even though they were of age. Her husband was at Hogwarts picking up the kids now. Mrs. Weasley was awaiting their arrival from Hogsmeade and cooking them a large dinner to try to distract herself from the fact that her son's funeral was in two days. She made sure that she had some of everybody's favorite dishes.
Soon, Mrs. Weasley heard a distinct pop from her living room. She hurriedly wiped her hands on the grimy blue dish towel that was hanging on the rack by her sink, replaced the towel, and rushed to greet her guests.
Ron
Ron Weasley had just apparated into his home, the Burrow, with his girlfriend and his best friend when his mother came from the kitchen and enveloped all of them in a large hug. When they were released, Ron informed Mrs. Weasley of the travel arrangements. "We apparated from Hogsmeade," he said, "Dad and Ginny are coming by floo – they should be here soon. It's good to see you, Mum. I never really saw you after your brilliant duel with Bellatrix. And to think, my own mother. I never would have imagined it." Mrs. Weasley blushed, then bustled around them, saying that she'd not touched the things that they'd left since the summer, and that they could have the same sleeping arrangements that they'd used the previous summer. And Ron, Hermione, and Harry thanked Mrs. Weasley profusely and ran up the stairs to talk.
Mr. Weasley
Arthur Weasley, a man with red hair who usually exhibited a bright smile on his face, had just traveled to Hogsmeade, where he met his two youngest children, along with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. After taking them out to lunch, Mr. Weasly saw the older three disapparate, then took Ginny to the Hog's Head to floo home. He watched is daughter toss floo powder into the fire, step into it, and clearly say "The Burrow." Then Mr. Weasley did the same.
When he arrived at his house, he saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione running up the stairs with Ginny following relatively close behind. Then Mr. Weasley turned to his wife and saw tears streaming down her face. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms soothingly around her. "Arthur," she whispered, "Do you remember when Fred used to jump those stairs three at a time? I can't believe we'll never be able to tell him not to again." Mr. Weasley guided his wife to the couch, and they both sat down. She continued, "Everyone's coming over for dinner tonight, and I made everyone's favorites. Arthur, I made chocolate cream pie for Fred, and he won't even be here to eat it." And she buried her head in his shoulder and started to cry harder. Mr. Weasley rubbed her back, but tears were silently falling down his own nose too. He told his wife how proud he was of his son, and that if Fred had to die, he would have been happy to have died for his friends and family. After about 10 minutes, Mr. Weasley saw Mrs. Weasley dry her eyes and stand up to get ready for their dinner. He sat on the couch for a few more minutes, then went into the kitchen after his wife to see if he could help her.
George
George Weasley was half of a whole. Fred and George, peanut butter and jelly, needle and thread, salt and pepper, rock and roll, and the list goes on. The best things in life come in pairs, and now George wasn't part of a pair. It made him want to curl up and die, but he knew that if Fred were alive, he would have wanted George to keep running Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and to keep laughing, so he was going to do it. He was in no state of mind to think of new products, but he and Fred had many ideas stored up that could be major successes. George could work on those and dedicate them to Fred. It would be hard, but he could do it, and eventually, George knew, he'd be able to move on. He'd never get over it, but he'd move on.
Now, George Weasley had to get ready to go to dinner at his parents. He knew that they and his whole family were grieving too, and he was going to do his best to cheer everybody up. The gears in his brain started to turn, and finally, George thought of the perfect thing; something that would be funny, yet would remind the family of Fred in a good way. George got ready, then apparated to The Burrow.
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A/N: Hey! Thanks to everybody who has read and reviewed my story! And thanks especially to Handmaiden of Artemis for beta-ing for me!
If anybody has any ideas as to what George actually does, I would love to hear them. They'd help me get the next chapter out more quickly . . .
Also, I know that I called the last chapter by the name of this chapter at some point, and by its name somewhere else . . . so I apologize for that.
Thanks again for reading! And reviews are truly appreciated.
Until next time,
Four and Twenty Blackbirds