A/N: Again, this is going to eventually be slash Harry/Ron, just a heads up!
Disclaimer: All J.K. Rowlings! I'm just borrowing her masterpiece for a little while to write my own plot for after the war!
Life After War
Chapter 2:
Purpose
"I still can't believe neither of you are attending your seventh year. You're both absolutely mad, if you ask me," Hermione told Ron and Harry as they sat in the front room of the boys' flat.
"Nobody asked you," Ron grumbled under his breath.
Hermione shot Ron a look that rivaled Ginny's at her most irritated moment.
Harry leaned back in his chair as his friends began to bicker back and forth about the unimportance of Hogwarts and how to properly talk to your girlfriend. He stayed leaned back, the back of his head resting on the chair, and stared at the ceiling waving his wand as he practiced a few charms that shrunk and grew some of their house decorations, sealed up some of the ceiling cracks, and turned the walls different colors. He couldn't help but think of the irony of the situation. Here they were, nearly a month after Voldemort had been killed, Ron and Hermione the same bickering friends as they had always been, and yet nothing else was the same. They were dating now, Ron and Hermione. They were no longer bickering friends, but now a bickering couple. It was June and Harry would not, now or ever, be returning to live with the Dursleys. Instead of staying at the Burrow, Harry would be living with Ron in their own place. Come fall, they would be separated for Hermione for the first time in seven years. Come fall, Harry wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts. The biggest difference of all, however, was that as of a month previous, Harry no longer had a purpose. He wasn't fighting or hunting, searching or battling for anyone or anything. He had no job and wasn't returning to school. As of a month previous to this month, Harry Potter had nothing to do.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic, had contacted Harry, Ron, and Hermione to inform them that they could have any job they pleased. He asked that they all, in their own time, consider positions in the Auror department (something which greatly pleased and excited Ron). They'd all left with the agreement that they'd think about it. Hermione had explained that she wanted to finish her last year at Hogwarts, and Ron and Harry explained that, at least for a short while, they just wanted a break. Shaklebolt had understood and told them to take as much time as they needed.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been both proud and worried in the same moment. They were proud that Ron was given such an opportunity and yet equally worried to lose yet another son, which would have been much more likely if he were to take the job as an Auror. Harry had felt somewhat embarrassed when Ron's parents had admitted that they missed the boys enough since they weren't staying at the Burrow for the summer. Harry hadn't realized he'd meant so much to the family, but it seemed as though this was becoming more and more apparent, if not because of the ending of the war, then certainly due to the loss of their son.
"Harry!" Hermione pulled at the raven-haired boy's arm. "You might want to talk to your friend, here, about the ways in which you do and do not treat your girlfriend. Ginny would positively kill you if you treated her this way,"
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he straightened back out and sat the chair normally again. "Er…yeah…'cept I'm not exactly with Ginny anymore, am I?"
Ron grimaced, showing that he didn't want to be a part of this conversation. "Shove off, Hermione," the redhead told her as he pulled her off of Harry and steered her to the fireplace. "Nothing gets solved by pulling our best mate into the fight. You'll be late for dinner with your parents if you don't go. I'll see you later," he said as he positioned her in the fireplace and put powder in her hand. He gave her a swift kiss on the lips and pulled out of the fireplace before she left, a look of utter annoyance on her face.
Ron walked back to the sofa across from Harry's chair and sat down, his face red from embarrassment, though about what Harry wasn't entirely sure.
"Alright, then, mate?" Harry asked, looking at his friend.
"Yeah, just, you know, Hermione. Don't know what to do 'bout her, exactly," Ron admitted, not catching Harry's eyes.
Harry nodded slowly. "Do you want to be with her?"
Ron didn't move for a moment, but got rather stiff. Then he looked up and caught his friend's gaze. Hesitantly, he shrugged. "Dunno, do I? S'pose I do, well enough."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"Life was easier without relationships. When we were all just friends. Back then we could bicker without anyone really getting upset about it,"
Harry shook his head and looked back up at the ceiling, sinking in his chair again until his head rested against the chair. "It won't be that way with you two as a couple, mate. Hermione sees everything different now. It's changed."
Changed.
That word again. It was surrounding Harry's life. Change. No more meaning for life. No more future laid out or world on his shoulders. Nothing more to keep he and his friends by each others' sides. No more romantic love between he and Ginny or family love from Remus or Sirius. No more 'Boy-Who-Lived' but now 'Savior'. Not only had these things changed but he, Harry, had changed, too. He had died. Actually died. And someone, albeit the darkest Wizard of all time, but still someone had died at Harry's hand. He may not have said the curse to kill him, but it happened, all the same.
He couldn't speak parseltongue anymore. He'd been really lonely a week previous and had locked himself up in his new room and conjured a snake. Nothing happened except that it had tried to charge at him, so he quickly burnt it and had sat in his room for nearly two hours trying to reassure himself that it was normal that he'd changed in these ways. He'd only been a parselmouth because of the piece of Voldemort that had lived within him. With that piece gone, there were things that had gone with it. Like the pain in his scar, the absence of which did not prevent him from still touching it often, almost as if to check to see if it was still there.
Some nights, when he and Ron would go to the Burrow for dinner, Harry would sit in the middle of all of the chaos from the large family, and wonder at the fact that among so many, he still felt alone. It made no logical sense, really. He hadn't fought in the war alone, Hermione and Ron had been with him nearly every step of the way until the very end. Except that at that point, when he was sacrificing himself and going through the very strangest and scariest moment of his life, completely alone no less, Ron and Hermione were expressing their love for one another and fighting side by side. Harry could feel the bitterness, could taste it like milk- and sugar-less coffee on his tongue, but he couldn't get rid of it, even when he wanted to. He knew it wasn't their fault that they hadn't been 'The Chosen One'. It wasn't their fault, necessarily, that they'd fallen in love or that in the scariest day they'd ever lived through, they'd finally decided to tell each other. It definitely wasn't their fault that he'd been alone when he'd died. He hadn't wanted them their, he hadn't wanted them to see it. He still resented them for it.
When Hermione came over to their flat and helped them decorate or helped Harry show Ron how to use a television, or just came to eat or visit, and she would naturally remain in close range with Ron at all times, their arms touching, their hands intertwined, their not-so-discrete glances at one another, Harry felt like he could scream at them. He knew that they were happy and whatever else, but did they really need to shove it in his face at all bloody times?
Harry sometimes considered asking Ginny to go out with him again. He never followed through, always realizing that he didn't feel that way for her anymore and it wouldn't be fair to her. Harry sometimes, though he would never admit it, wished that there was still more to do. He wished that there could be more searching and fighting so that he'd have a purpose again. So, when the owl delivered a message from Minister Shacklebolt the following week, Harry responded almost immediately.
Harry, I know that I said I would give you time, and I will hold up to my promise. I just wanted to let you know that we are starting to find those Death Eaters that had run and hidden. Thought you might be interested in trying to help us find and imprison every last one of them. Just a thought…. K. S.
Minister, I'll have to ask Ron, but I'm up for it. Let me know when to come in and get started. Harry
Harry sent his response back to Shacklebolt and let himself wonder if Ron would actually want to join. He let the thought go out of his mind as he considered how it would feel to finally have a purpose again. His heart leapt slightly and he allowed himself to feel happy and excited again, for the first time in quite a while.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I think I'll be getting out another one fairly soon. Leave a little review to let me know what you think :)