Chapter 7 – A Return.

Harry and Ginny were taking a final walk around the garden of the Burrow. In a few short hours, they would be back at Hogwarts for the start of their final year.

The Burrow has become a chaotic hub of activity over the last few days – clothes needed to be washed and packed, missing items retrieved and stowed away, books bought and lists prepared. On this, the final morning, the frenetic hubbub reached its zenith, and Harry and Ginny took advantage of the busyness to escape for a final few moments alone.

They walked along the line of the stream, savouring the sounds of the waking birds and the gentle glow of the early morning sunlight, throwing an occasional glance over their shoulders to check for signs that they had been missed.

"How are Teddy and Andromeda?" asked Ginny, wrapping her jacket around herself a little tighter in the early morning chill. "You've been over there every day this week, haven't you?"

Harry nodded.

As the end of the summer had galloped towards them unbidden, he'd felt a choking guilt that he would soon be unable to visit his little godson. As much as he was looking forward to going back to school and returning to some semblance of normality, he couldn't help but feel he was abandoning Teddy by leaving him behind. He'd been faced with a dilemma. On one hand, he'd wanted to spend every last possible moment with Ginny (there was a "conversation" they had yet to finish, much to Harry's frustration, due to preparations for their departure, and the window of opportunity for them to spend time alone shrank a little every day.). On the other hand, he knew that once he left for Hogwarts, there would be months before he would be able to see Teddy again.

Teddy, with no mother or father. Orphaned, as Harry had been.

The thought of it had cut through him almost painfully and he knew he'd made his decision. He'd spent hours there each day, holding him and learning how to feed and change him. He'd watched with delight as the baby grew to smile when Harry appeared, and how his eyes would flicker from their usual grey-blue to green when he tickled his feet or blew raspberries on his palms.

It was this he thought of when he answered, "Teddy did that eye thing again yesterday – you know, the one I told you about? He laughed when I tickled him and suddenly, he blinked and his eyes were bright green! Andromeda said it's his way of showing that he likes me. And she said that his hair stayed red for hours, even after you went home, on Saturday!"

Ginny had been absent-mindedly twirling a lock of her own red hair around her fingers as he spoke, and she giggled self-consciously as she noticed him watching. She tucked it behind her ear and a few wisps escaped in the breeze.

It took every ounce of discipline he had not to reach out and brush the strands away from her cheek.

She'd seemed to be doing it a lot, recently, playing with her hair. It was almost as if she knew it drove him to distraction with longing. His mind drifted back to the last time he'd ran his fingers through her hair. It had been at the Burrow, at the end of the summer, in her small, bright room…God, he wanted to touch it again. To remember the softness of it, its weight in his hands…

He almost shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory from the forefront of his mind.

Focus, Harry, he thought. What was it you were saying?

Ginny's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'm sure she'll send you lots of pictures, don't worry. She said she'd send an owl every week."

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's been nice getting to know him."

"I know what you mean," she said.

"How? You've been around for his whole life," he said, confused.

"I didn't mean Teddy – I meant you." She glanced at his bemused expression. "When you first came back, it was like you were a different person. And, yes, before you say it, I know – we'd all changed. Of course we had – how could we not, after all we saw and did? But you," she said, examining him, "YOU were so different, I wondered if we'd ever really get you back. But over these last couple of months, it's like I've got to know you all over again. I like it."

The revelation hit him all at once. The reason why their almost-kiss hadn't come sooner, and why it hadn't been repeated. He'd been a different person to her, and Ginny had needed time to become comfortable with this new Harry. After all those months of distance, she'd needed to get to know him and learn to trust him all over again. She'd needed time.

They stopped walking and faced each other.

"I suppose I had changed a lot." She nodded. "But some things always stay the same…"

Her hand rose to re-secure the rogue stands of gold on her face, and his heart contracted a little, whilst she smiled mysteriously.

In the distance, he heard Mrs. Weasley calling Ginny's name.

"Come on…" he said, gesturing towards the house. "We'd better get going." They strolled back towards the house in silence.

If she needs time, he thought as they walked, then I'll wait. After all, she waited long enough for me.

And they walked back into the organized chaos of the Burrow.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione sat together in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express. The atmosphere was subdued. Saying goodbye on Platform 9 ¾ had been more difficult than any of them had imagined. Mrs. Weasley had held the tears at bay until they'd stepped onboard, but as the train had pulled away, the group had seen her bury her face in Mr. Weasley's scruffy Muggle jacket, overcome with weeping. Now, they sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the train, lost in their own thoughts.

The train had seemed emptier than it had before. Harry remembered how some years they had struggled to find an empty compartment, so they could talk about their plans or the latest rumours they'd heard from the Order. This year, they had their pick. However, despite the room on the train, there seemed to be a steady stream of students of varying ages filing past the window, some glancing surreptitiously through the glass, others peering openly.

"They're looking at you, you know," said Ron.

Harry looked at him, startled. "I don't know why. They've all seen me before."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "I know – it's a mystery! It's almost as if you're back from the dead or something!" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He tried to smile, and Ginny shifted uncomfortably next to him.

"I don't think it's just that!" Ron gestured at the window.

Three girls had slowed to an almost complete halt outside their door and had begun to giggle loudly. Harry could feel himself going red. Suddenly, the girls' faces dropped and they shuffled away quickly. Harry turned to see Ginny glaring towards the door, her eyes narrowed. He struggled to contain a smile as he glowed inwardly. He couldn't resist asking, "You okay, Gin?"

Her eyes snapped back to his and she gave a look of perfect innocence.

"Me? Of course!"

Ron chuckled quietly from behind his copy of The Quibbler that he had conveniently disappeared behind, and then yelped as Ginny's foot found his shin.

"Harry, you will remember to be careful won't you?" came Hermione's ever-sensible voice.

"Mmm?"

"Remember Romilda Vane?" she asked pointedly.

Harry's memory flickered back to his last year of school, and the small incident of the chocolates spiked with love potion, and he winced. "Er – vividly."

Ron's newspaper crunched to his lap. "As do I!"

"Yes – well, you know what I mean then. And this year it will be worse. There's the whole fame thing, of course, but…" She paused for a second to find the right words, before hurriedly saying, "You're hardly a scrawny little boy these days, are you?"

This comment earned her arched looks form both Weasleys. Colouring slightly, she said, "Have you finished with that newspaper, Ron?"

Harry never thought he would feel so self-conscious with his best friends.

It was true, he did look a lot different these days. When he had first arrived at the Burrow, his hair had been longer than it had ever been, but as defiantly messy as ever – Mrs. Weasley could hardly wait to take a scissors to it. It still looked a little wilder than it had at school, but it was a definite improvement. He'd also managed to grow several inches over the year, despite a serious lack of real food, taking him to over six feet tall, and stretching out what little weight he did have even further. Luckily, Mrs. Weasley had come to rescue again! It had become her personal mission to feed up Harry, Ron and Hermione, and took immense pleasure in cooking enormous meals for her family, as if she could make up for a year's worth of isolation and neglect. As a result, Harry had lost that gaunt look that had settled around his face, and instead, he looked lithe, toned and solid. He would never look muscular, he'd decided, but at least he didn't look pathetically skinny any more! Then, of course, there were the scars… Most were hidden beneath his clothes, but some were visible. Scrapes and grazes on his face had healed, but left red marks and traces of their former presence.

He let his mind play over it all, embarrassed that these changes hadn't escaped everyone's notice, but still amazed that any of these alterations could be of any interest to the girls who continued to file past the window, much to Ginny's obvious chagrin. He certainly didn't class himself as good looking. Although, a tiny fragment of ego cried out, he may have to reconsider that statement. The thought disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Yeah, Harry, he told himself, I hardly think so. He almost scoffed aloud at the idea.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sliding of the carriage door.

"There you are! I've been looking for you up and down the train!"

Four heads snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice.

"NEVILLE!" they cried, simultaneously.

Upon seeing him, Ginny immediately stood and threw herself at him in hug. "Oh, it is so good to see you!"

Neville laughed at her enthusiasm and returned the hug. "How's my second in command?"

She giggled at the nickname, and gave a mock salute. "Very well, sir, thank you, sir!"

The two of them sat on the seat next to Harry, still chuckling.

Harry, on the other hand, felt very little like laughing.

It's just Neville, he thought over and over. It means nothing. It doesn't matter that she's laughing and smiling because of him and not you – it's just Neville.

The annoyance and jealousy must have been plain to see, as Ron snorted with barely concealed laughter at the look on his face, for which he received a swift kick to his other shin – this time from Harry.

When he returned his attention to Ginny and Neville, she was looking at him questioningly. Instantly, he felt ashamed of his reaction, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his thoughts.

He looked at Neville's beaming face, so obviously pleased to be back amongst friends, and his sense of embarrassment increased. He tried to smile to cover up his feelings and asked, "What on earth are you doing here, Nev? It's great to see you and everything, but haven't you finished school?"

Hermione's face blanched "You did do alright, didn't you, Neville? In the exams?" Her voice was filled with horror at the very thought of poor results or failing.

"Yeah, Professor McGonagall arranged for me to sit them over the holidays, and my results were fine. Better than fine, actually. I'm coming back as an assistant on a research study." His beaming face was filled with pride now.

"Blimey, well done, mate!" said Ron, impressed. "What's it about?"

"Professor Sprout asked me if I'd like to assist on a project of her hers. She's attempting to cross-pollinate two types of Devil's Snare in order to make it more resistant to magic. The idea came about when they were replacing the wards around Hogwarts and looking at the defenses. I'll be helping with some of the practical stuff and keeping records of the research. We're hoping to publish our findings in some Herbology journals."

"Wow, Neville, that sounds great! You'll be taking over the Herbology department and teaching lessons by Easter!" exclaimed Harry.

"Don't know about that…" he mumbled, still grinning.

"Well, it's great news, and I'm so pleased you're back! It wouldn't have felt right without you," Ginny said.

Neville's face was suddenly filled with concern. "Are you alright, Gin? Coming back, I mean – after everything?" His voice was quiet. He was thinking of all they'd been through in their previous year. He'd been one of the few people Ginny had confided in.

For a moment, her eyes darkened and Harry saw her hands begin to fidget. "Yeah, course I am. We're all together again, aren't we?" She tried to smile, but Harry could see that it never reached her eyes, or brightened her face the way her real smiles did. He watched her fingers pick ever more viciously at a cuticle, and without thinking, he placed one of his large hands over hers.

"You'll hurt yourself!" he warned, and immediately her hands were still.

The room was quiet. He could feel the eyes of his friends on his hands, but was almost oblivious to it, compared to the heat of the tiny white hand under his. Against every desire he had, he slowly withdrew his hand, and then realized he didn't know what to do with it. He hastily folded his arms.

After a few seconds with nothing but the sound of the train to break the silence, Ron said, "Right, I'm going to find the food trolley – I'm starving!"

"I'll come with you," Neville agreed. "I quite fancy a pumpkin pasty myself."

They slid out of the compartment. Harry stood to follow them.

"Where're YOU going?" Hermione asked.

""Er… to the little wizard's room," he replied.

"You might want to take your Invisibility cloak," she suggested, as another gaggle of giggling girls shuffled past the window.

"Good idea," he admitted throwing it round his shoulders for the first time in many long months.

When he returned a few minutes later, he saw that Hermione and Ginny had been joined by another girl, from the fifth year, who was leaning against the door. Keen to avoid her, he pressed himself against the wall, intending to wait until she left, and listened to the conversation.

"Oh, okay…" said the girl, sounding disappointed. "Do you know where he's gone? Everyone's been saying he was in here. I just wanted to say hi before all the other girls started badgering him. You know, kind of get in there first…" She smiled salaciously.

Ginny laughed darkly. "Oh, dear, I did warn him last night that this would happen."

"Last night?" the girl asked.

"Mmm, we spent the summer together… I told him that girls would be all over him." She gave a small smile, as if remembering the conversation. "But he said THEY didn't matter, just…" She sighed wistfully. "Well, he didn't seem concerned about any other girls." She finished by flashing her most brilliant smile.

A look of understanding washed over the girl's face. "You and Harry are still… close… then?"

Hermione looked at Ginny with the same look of quiet questioning.

"Oh, yes," she grinned. "We're… very 'close'."

"Oh. Right. I see," the girl muttered. "Well, I'll be off then." The crestfallen girl said her goodbyes and disappeared down the corridor.

Even though it was now clear to go in, Harry hovered by the still open door, under the cover of his cloak, checking to make sure the conversation was over.

Ginny had picked up the discarded Quibbler and was idly flicking through its pages. Hermione was looking at her.

"Um… Gin?"

"Mmm-hmm?" She didn't look up.

"Does this mean you and Harry are –" she began.

"Nope." Ginny continued to browse through the pages.

"But you made it sound to her like you were back –"

"Mmm, that's right."

"But you're not…"

"No," she said, flicking the pages more rapidly, before stopping and looking at her friend. "Why?"

Hermione shook her head and quickly began rummaging in her bag for something. "No reason. Just clearing that up."

Ginny disappeared behind the newspaper again, then from behind it, she said, "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Ask me again at Christmas."

Hermione gave a small smile, whilst Harry positively beamed from outside.

He waited for a moment before rejoining the girls. When he did, he sat a little closer to Ginny that he had before.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Definitely," he replied, and he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of more hope than he'd felt in years.