Chapter 8—Chores


Disclaimer: I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

Note: I'm trying to make this story about what Harry is feeling and how he's moving on with his life, not about his romantic interests. I don't know why exactly, but in this story, Harry has a lot of female friends. I'll try to bring Ron and maybe Neville or Bill or somebody in next chapter to balance it out and make it more realistic.


The next day, Harry woke up after a full twelve hours of sleep. Amazing. He felt so…refreshed. When was the last time he'd been able to just sleep for so many hours without having to worry about anything or anybody? Ah. Now what should he do? He heard his stomach grumble. Breakfast sounded like a good place to start.

He debated whether to take the stairs or go through the outside. In the end, he chose the former.

He went down the stairs and into the kitchen without being noticed. He knew how to cook and was very familiar with the Weasley kitchen. When Ginny came down a few minutes later, he was just helping himself to some bacon.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise. "It's not that you're not welcome, but what are you doing in my house."

"Having breakfast. I offered to de-gnome the garden for your mum today and she insisted I eat first. What are you doing here? I figured you'd be at practice by now." He hadn't thought he'd run into her today. Mr. Weasley knew he was here of course, but he wanted to limit his whereabouts to just him and Mrs. Weasley.

"The manager is giving us a half day. We don't have to go in until 1."

"That's generous of him."

"It's because he said your leaving the team has given him a stress ulcer and he has a doctor's appointment."

Harry gave a snort of laughter. "Hungry?"

"I'm starved."

"Help yourself, I was just about to make more. You want eggs? Bacon? Pancakes?"

"Everything," she said, sitting down comfortably.

"Sounds good to me."

Soon eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes were sitting on the table. Ginny had made them each a steaming mug of coffee. "Two sugars, Harry?"

"You know how I like it."

They sat down to a scrumptious breakfast. "So what are your plans with so much free time today?"

"I don't know. Not much of anything. I thought I might shop a little. What about you? What are your plans for today?"

"I don't know. I'm going to de-gnome the garden after I eat. Then maybe I'll work on decorating my flat."

"Just when do we get to see this fantastic new place of yours anyway?"

Harry hesitated, fork halfway to his mouth. "Not yet. I don't know when, but not yet."

"Will you at least tell us where the place is?"

"No."

"Not even me?" She looked at him with big, sad, innocent, puppy-dog eyes. It was a look she had managed to perfect over the years, to a degree that far surpassed any innocent looks her brothers had ever attempted.

"Not even you, Gin. Not you, not Jo, not Ron, and not Hermione. I just need a little space for a bit. That's all. Just some room to unwind for a while." His plate was mostly empty and he vanished its contents and put it in the sink. "I'm going outside." He didn't want her prying. He didn't want anyone prying. He just wanted to be left alone for a while.

"Come on, Harry, don't be like that now," Ginny coaxed, sensing the old moody Harry coming to the surface. He still got like this occasionally, but when he joined the Cannons it seemed to be happening less and less. She knew his quitting Quidditch was inevitable eventually, but she knew it'd be a bad idea too. This confirmed it.

"Be like what?"

"You're closing yourself up again. You don't want to let anyone in. As much as I know you say Ron's still your best friend that's not true. Ron has a wife now. Ron has something steady in his life. You knew this was coming. Ron spent less and less time with you. He had less and less time to be your friend. He's a husband now. He likes it. He's in love with Hermione. He—"

"You think I don't know that? I know they're in love. I could have told you that years ago. I could have told that to them years ago. It's not that. Just leave me alone, Ginny." He left the kitchen and went outside. De-gnoming the garden sounded like a good idea; he could relieve some stress flinging those suckers over the hedge.

Ginny wasn't going to let him get away that easily. She followed closely on his tail. "Get back here, Harry, I'm not done speaking to you."

"Well, I'm done speaking to you." His eyes searched the yard for a gnome to fling.

"You're spending more and more time with Josephine. That's not a bad thing. She's a wonderful person. She's your best friend now."

"Your point?" he said quietly.

"If you're not letting your best friend know what's going on in your life, then there's something seriously wrong."

"Jo isn't my best friend. Ron is. He always has been and always will be." He picked a gnome up by the ankle and flung it over the hedge.

"You're not telling him anything either though. Or Hermione. Or me. We're worried about you, Harry."

"Nobody needs to worry about me. I'm fine."

"Harry, are you jealous of what Ron and Hermione have?" she asked softly.

"Jealous? Of course I'm not."

"Are you sure?"

"Ginny, I was jealous when we were in Hogwarts and Ron had brothers and a sister and parents that cared about him and I didn't. I was jealous when Ron had a houseful of people who loved and I didn't. But not now. He's lucky to have all those things, but I can move through my life beyond that. Someday I'll have those things, but not now."

"Harry, you do have those things now. You have us."

"I don't need anyone right now." He flung two more gnomes over the fence.

"Yes you do. Everyone needs someone. Come on out tonight with Luna and me. We'll find you a nice date and everything."

"For the last time, Ginerva, I don't need anybody. I don't need your help. I don't need Luna's help. I don't need a date. I'm fine on my own. That's the way I like it. Deal with it. Tell your mum I'll finish de-gnoming at 1:01." He Disapperated and appeared on the ledge outside his attic. Ginny couldn't see him from where she was. He went inside, slamming the door behind him.

Harry seethed. Why did she have to do that? Why? She knew just which buttons to push to set off a bad mood in him. They were having a lovely breakfast, and then she had to spoil it by prying where he didn't want anyone and trying to find out what was the matter with him. He didn't know what the matter was and if he did know, it wouldn't be her business or anyone else's anyway. It had taken some adjusting after Ron and Hermione got together, but Harry got used to it. His best friend wasn't always around anymore, but he could deal with that. Harry knew things would never be the same as when they were at Hogwarts; at Hogwarts they saw each other everyday for ten solid months. But they were still best friends. You can't erase that kind of history. Ginny didn't know what she was talking about.

He stared moodily at the ceiling. Well, it wouldn't do any good to just glare at the ceiling for the next three hours. Might as well do something productive.

He Apperated to the edge of the village, behind a group of trees. He walked the town until he reached the local hardware store. Inside he bought the trays, brushes, stains, and paints he wanted. He made small talk with the young lady behind the counter (she said she was the owner's niece) for a few minutes before leaving and starting the walk back across town to the clump of trees where he would Apperate back to the attic.

With his new supplies, Harry got down to work on some chores. He shrunk everything down to fit inside his trunk again and pushed the trunk out onto his outdoors landing. He rolled up his sleeves and got down on his hands and knees to scrub the floor clean, conjuring a bucket of soapy water and a large sponge.

He knew he could have had the whole job done in moments with a little magic, but today was not one of those days. Today, he needed something to do while he pondered life. He wanted something to keep his hands busy and make him absolutely exhausted.

As he scrubbed, he thought about everything that had happened to him since the second downfall of Voldemort and leaving Hogwarts. He'd tried to build up his life from the remains of what was left by going to Grimmauld Place, but he couldn't do it. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he needed to start over completely. Go where no one knew who he was a build a new life. But he didn't want to do that. Not really. He was happy here, most of the time. Life isn't easy to begin with, having to start over is worse because you have to deal with all the old pieces too. The pieces you'd rather forget forever.

He finished the last of the scrubbing and as soon as the floor was dry, poured wood stain into a tray and started to paint. He covered the whole floor. Random snatches of memories flew back at him. Words echoed from the past, some happy, some sad. Sirius's offer to live with him once he was proven innocent. Fred and George's calls of "make way for the heir of Slytherin" back in second year. Hermione's repeated irritation at how stupid boys could be. The congratulations of his housemates after winning his first Quidditch match. The roar of the crowd after his first professional Quidditch match. Hermione and Ron reciting their wedding vows. Luna asking him to dance. Cho turning him down for the Yule Ball in fourth year. Memory after memory came to him and he wanted to lock them away in a cupboard so he could really start over. But he knew he couldn't do that. They would always be a part of him.

Besides, wouldn't locking those memories away also mean losing his friends? Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Jo were his closest friends. He saw quite a bit of Neville, Fred, George, and Luna as well of course, but it wasn't the same. Would getting rid of all his past memories of hurt be worth losing the ones of Mrs. Weasley being there for him when he needed her? Would it be worth getting rid of knowing that Ron and Hermione were always at his side, no matter what the danger was? No. It wouldn't be worth it. His past would always be a part of him. Like some monstrous chain or tail. And he'd have to learn to live with it. Good or bad, he was who he was based on everything he had experienced in his life.

By the time the floor was scrubbed and stained, it was nearing two o'clock. It'd taken longer than he expected. He decided to make good on what he told Ginny and go down and de-gnome the garden. When he was done, he fixed himself a sandwich, and conjured up an old favorite book and sat on blanket to eat outside in the fresh air. It was cold, but not freezing yet. It would be a good idea to get his fresh air this fall while he could, before it started to snow with the oncoming winter.

Harry mused to himself. Relaxing was nice, but he couldn't do it forever. For now he could find chores such as de-gnoming and fixing up the attic a little more, to fill his time. But soon he'd run out of things to do and he would have to go back out into the world again and figure out what he wanted. But until that time came, he would be content with simple chores and hobbies.

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Weasley," he said, looking at the owner of the hand.

She sat down next to him on the blanket. "I haven't seen you all day. Ginny sad something about you de-gnoming the garden and throwing a temper tantrum," she said, in a very motherly voice. The kind of motherly voice that asks without words "is there anything you'd like to tell me that I already know?"

"I de-gnomed the garden earlier. Ginny was a touch upset that I wouldn't tell her where I was staying, that's all. She said that someone ought to know where I was. I didn't expect to run into her this morning." He looked toward the horizon.

"Yes, her practice was starting late today. I didn't find out until this morning when she didn't show up downstairs for breakfast and when I went upstairs to find out what the problem was, she told me she didn't have practice for hours yet and was going to get a little rest. I think she's going out with some friends tonight."

Harry could sense the suggestion behind the last sentence, the suggestion that he should go with them. "I think I'll stay in tonight. My floor should be dry by now."

"Dry?"

"I coated it with something to dye the wood and help protect it," Harry explained.

"Oh. That's nice."

"I think I'm going to go for a walk, Mrs. Weasley. I'll see you when I come back."

"Alright, dear. I'm sure Ginny and her friends would love to see you at The Bouncing Ferret tonight if you care to show up."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry called over his shoulder. The Bouncing Ferret was the popular nightclub to be at nowadays.

Harry walked the village peacefully for a while before he stopped for dinner.


Harry spent the next few days in a comfortable pattern. He woke up, watched the sun rise, and went into the village for coffee and breakfast. He read the paper for a while and did a little people watching. By midmorning, he left his breakfast place and went to the hardware store to get his supplies for the day. He held polite conversations with the store owner's niece before departing. Back at the Burrow he'd put his project things away and do something for Mrs. Weasley, say, weed the garden or oil the door hinges. He then ate lunch with Mrs. Weasley (the only meal he could ever guarantee Ginny wouldn't be home for). Mrs. Weasley liked that; it gave her an opportunity to be as motherly towards him as she wanted. They read The Daily Prophet together (Harry had canceled his own subscription to it with this last move). It seemed he was officially off the radar of the wizarding world at last. After that he went back to the attic to work on some projects of his own. He whitewashed his walls and ceiling, stenciled different designs along the top of the walls, and was now engaged in building himself a bedside cabinet. Sometimes, late at night, he ended the day with a flight on his broom. For a few days, life was peaceful and good.

On the fourth day, he did everything as usual. But his conversation with Emily, the owner's niece, didn't go as usual. It took a bad direction.

"You've come in here every day this week."

"Yes."

"The same time everyday. Except the first day." She arched an eyebrow silently to ask "Why?"

"What's wrong with a little routine?"

"Routine, or are you just hanging around here because you're too shy to ask me out?" she asked. "I haven't seen you around here before this week."

"I just moved in. I had an old friend in the neighborhood and wanted to come back." He turned to leave, but she grasped his arm.

"I've asked around. Nobody knows who you are. All anybody knows is that you come in every morning and go over to that coffee place on the corner, then come here, and then disappear off to the west. That's all anyone knows about the green-eyed stranger. I want to know more."

"I prefer to keep to myself." He managed to shake her off.

"None of the houses nearby have gone up for sale recently. Where exactly are you living?"

"Close by enough that I can come here and get supplies for my home improvement projects on a daily basis. If you'd rather me take my business elsewhere, just say so." He was halfway to the door.

She opened her mouth, but a customer on the other side of store said, "Miss? Could tell me the difference between this brush and that one? Why is this one £3 more?"

Harry, grateful that Emily was distracted, left as quickly as he could without seeming suspicious. So much for going unnoticed, he thought bitterly.

As soon as he was out of sight of the town, he Disapperated and was gone. He unceremoniously dumped the extra nails he'd bought onto his bed and went outside to work in the garden. As much it was a punishment to garden when he was younger, he liked it now. Things were peaceful and always growing. He was beginning to understand why Neville liked Herbology so much.

He'd been working for a good hour or so when he heard someone coming and looked up. There was Emily.

She was panting but she was coming nearer and nearer.

Harry glared in her general direction, wondering what to do. He'd like to avoid a memory charm if he could, but if used magic to get rid of her, or slow her down, she might see the wand and he'd have to do a memory charm anyway.

He dropped the things he'd been working with and ran toward her. He reached her about 20 meters from the house and stopped her from coming any closer. "What are you doing here?"

"There're no houses out this way. I wanted to see where you were going. I'm on my lunch break." She blinked. "Apparently no houses except that one. Strange…I don't remember it before."

Harry said nothing, still deciding what to do. He might have to use a memory charm anyway.

"Where do you live?"

"I live there."

"All alone?"

"With my Mum," Harry said automatically.

There was a shout from the house. "Harry? Who's that out there with you?"

"No one, Mum! Just a friend!" Harry called back, hoping Mrs. Weasley wouldn't question why he called her "mum".

Mrs. Weasley waved and went back inside.

"Who was that?" asked Emily.

"That was my mum. She doesn't like to be disturbed. That's why we live here, away from everybody. She needs her rest. Go back to town."

"But I want to get to know you."

"I have things to do. I don't want you to get to know me. What'll it take to make you go back?"

Emily thought about it. "Go out with me tonight so I can get to know you."

Harry sighed and gave it a moment's thought. "I'll take you to dinner. But it's not a date. I…I don't date."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't. Do you need more of answer than that?" he asked, taking a step forward.

"Just asking. What time do you want me to meet you here?"

"No! I'll come get you from the store at 7. Don't come here. Ever again. Do you understand?"

"No. Why shouldn't I—?"

"Because I said so. Now please leave right now. I've got things to do and I don't like to be interrupted. I've got a garden to finish weeding and cabinet to finish building." He was sorely tempted to give her a shove in the right direction to get her moving, but restrained himself. He'd have to talk to Mrs. Weasley about fixing the spell around the property for misdirecting Muggles.

"That's rude. Aren't you even going to invite me inside for a drink? Or water? After I walked all the way up here…"

"No," he said firmly. "You were not invited. Now please vacate the property before I am forced to call the authorities." He gave her a little shove in the right direction.

Emily tossed her hair over her shoulders and stalked off like an angry cat.

Harry watched her go, and sighed with relief. That was close. He looked back in the yard and knew he wouldn't get any more work done this afternoon. Tired, he went inside and went to the Weasleys' fireplace. It was time to see an old friend. One who wouldn't offer comments, but would just listen.

"Lovegood Lane," he said to the fire.