Will Power

The next few days at the Burrow were peaceful. The occupants lazed about the house, even Mrs. Weasley had less to do, thanks to Kreacher. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny mostly played two-a-side Quidditch, occasionally dragging George into the game. It was on one such day, while they were playing in the yard of the house, that a Ministry owl flew in through the kitchen window and landed on top of Errol's perch. It held out its leg, looking pointedly at Mrs. Weasley.

She untied the letter; she could tell from the writing that it was from Kingsley.

Dear Molly,

Sorry it took so much time to get this to you. The Ministry is going through all the wills in alphabetical order, and so many have died in the Final Battle. Besides that, there is a lot of revamping to do here, as I'm sure Arthur has told you.

I'm deeply sorry for the loss of one, Fred Weasley; I can only imagine how it would have been if Fred… had not died. I remember when the twins offered me a Canary Cream at an Order meeting (I had the foresight to decline). It seemed astonishing how they could cheer up everyone even in the darkest of times. I hope George is doing well. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask. Send everyone my regards.

Your servant,

Kingsley Shacklebolt.

She wiped a tear from her eyes. Yes, it was astonishing how the twins had that remarkable ability to make everyone laugh for no apparent reason. She knew George was putting up a brave front, for the sake of everyone else; she saw how he played with his food. The only time he was truly happy seemed to be when he was in his shop. Molly supposed that he felt the closest to Fred there. She sighed. There was nothing worse than losing your own child; the fact that this is the way he'd like to have gone, laughing and fighting Voldemort, didn't make it any easier. She sighed and went out into the garden to call the kids inside. George needed to see this.


After the arrival of Fred's will, his death seemed to hang over the Burrow like an ominous storm cloud, threatening to burst at any given moment. Indeed, Mrs. Weasley would suddenly burst into tears while cooking or doing the laundry. George (who had received most of Fred's gold and possession; however, Fred had managed to leave something of meaning to everyone. Even Percy.) was spending increasing amounts of time alone. Harry thought it sickening that, even at such a young age, Fred had prepared for the consequences of fighting against Voldemort. Harry miserably watched Mrs. Weasley re-read Fred's will. Unable to stand it anymore he walked out the back door to the garden.

Ron followed him out and they both silently walked to a large crab-apple tree and sat down under it. After a while he said quietly, "It's not your fault, mate, I know you think it is, but Fred knew what he was getting into, didn't he? And so did everyone else."

Harry looked at Ron. He had matured a lot over the last year; taken the leadership role when Harry had been obsessed with the Deathly Hallows. Harry supposed that Hermione had rubbed off on him. They looked up as a shadow fell across them. Hermione had followed them out. As the three of them fell into a collective silence, Harry realised something. He had never thanked Ron and Hermione properly for all they did; for sticking with him through the years even as their adventures got slowly more dangerous and led them down steadily Darkening roads. They could've turned back if they wanted to; Harry had told them countless times that they didn't have to come with him. But they came, no matter what the mission, no matter what they had to do, they came. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"You guys, I – I never thanked you for … for sticking with me. You two were always there and… well. You guys gave me the one thing I always wanted, friends and a family. I –" He was cut off by Hermione as she hugged him fiercely around the neck. Harry hugged her back, just as fiercely, not knowing where the sudden urge to cry came from. When they broke apart, Ron grinned and held out his hand, Harry grasped it, and Hermione burst into tears. They looked at her in surprise; she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and flapped her hands impatiently at them.

"You guys… you're so…" Apparently words failed her because she ran into the house sobbing.

"Mental, that one." Ron muttered as they stood and watched her sobbing into Ginny's shoulder under the back doorway.

"You two make a fine match."

"Oi!"

Harry laughed and grabbed a nearby broomstick and flew into the air, Ron followed and they started playing Quidditch with a rotten crab-apple.


Harry walked through the streets of Diagon Alley, trying to be unnoticeable. Nevertheless, the people around them pointed and whispered and occasionally came up and congratulated him.

He had just dropped off George and Ron at the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and was now walking towards the little jewellery shop (Twinkling Trinkets) that Harry had seen the locket in. He wanted to buy that amethyst locket for Ginny; plus he needed a new broomstick.

When he reached the store he tried to push the door open but it yelled, "Pull me! Pull me!"

Laughing, Harry pulled the door open and went inside.

As soon as she recognized him, the little witch behind the counter gasped and dropped the magazine she was reading. "Mr. Potter! H-how may I help you?"

Harry looked around nervously; the locket hadn't been in the window when he came in, "Uh. Actually, a couple days ago there was a locket, in the window, a light purple colour... silver chain. Is it still here?"

"Yes! It is!" flustered, she explained, "We change our window displays every two days." She opened the counter and pulled out a box, she tapped it with her wand and it opened to reveal the locket on a white silk cloth. "Is this the one, sir?"

It was very weird to be called 'sir'. "Yes!" Harry was immensely relieved; he'd thought it might've been sold to someone else. "How much is it?"

"220 galleons."

Harry took out his money bag; he'd bought about 1000 galleons, not knowing how valuable the gem would be, and how much a new broom would cost. He took out 220 galleons and deposited them in the witch's hand. She counted them and dropped them in the cash box.

"Would you like it packaged, sir?"

"Uh, no. Just the box will be fine."

She nodded and gave the box containing the locket to him. He put it in his pocket, "Does it have any magical properties?" Harry had had enough experiences with magical objects to know to ask this question.

"No, sir, just an anti-thief and a glamour charm on it."

"Glamour charm?"

"To stop the gem from losing its shine and smoothness, sir."

"Oh. Thanks. Have a nice day."

"You too, Mr. Potter."

He could feel her eyes follow him as he walked out.


Harry met Ron at the Quidditch supplies shop. And together they picked out the new Firebolt model. After, they dropped in on George and bought some Dark Mark candy (these were extremely popular now, in light of recent events). They also stopped at a sweet shop and bought two bags full of chocolates and sweets; Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have to make dessert for a while.

Laughing and chewing on their Edible Dark Marks, they apparated back to the Burrow where Mrs. Weasley yelled at them for spoiling their appetite just before dinner.

That night Harry fell, exhausted from the days events into his bed in Ron's room. He punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and, imagining Ginny's reaction to his present, fell asleep.