The next morning, Harry woke up later than he normally did. He supposed his body had needed the rest from being out all day with Hermione the day before.
He summoned his elves and asked them to bring his new clothing upstairs so that he could put it away. The immediately balked and pleaded for him to let them put the clothes away, and in the end Harry let them help him, much to their delight.
It took a few hours to get all of his new clothing arranged how he wanted it, and he was amazed to find that he still had room for more clothes. His first closet was full, but still had plenty of room for more clothes; everything was spread out and not clumped together. His other closet adjacent to the one he was currently using was completely empty. He vowed to himself that he would keep that hidden from Hermione; if she found out he still had so much empty closet space, he foresaw another shopping trip in his future. He cringed at the thought.
He was grateful to her, extremely, but he decided that now that he had a good starting point for his 'new look', he would pick things up here and there, when the mood struck him, instead of continually purchasing a whole new wardrobe.
He still had money left over as well, and quite a bit! While Hermione had taken him to upscale boutiques for his clothing, he had shied away from most of the ridiculously extravagant items, only buying select few that were extremely expensive. The clothes he had bought were still very good quality and immensely stylish though; he simply wasn't a clothing snob.
After he was done with his task, he got dressed in a new outfit. He had so much to choose from, and chose dark jeans (NOT one of his numerous 'sexy' pairs), and a light blue V-neck that Hermione had told him brought out shades of blue in his green eyes, with a soft cream zipper up jacket. He finished with the new black socks that Hermione had insisted he buy, saying, "Honestly, Harry, who wears white socks? Almost all of your clothing is darker shades, and you have black, brown, and grey shoes. You need black socks, and black socks only. Besides, if you dress business casual, you'll most certainly need to wear black socks with your slacks and black shoes." And that had settled the matter. As long as they weren't Dudley's worn through hand me downs, he could care less.
He went into the bathroom and styled his hair slightly, using the new pomade that Rosalie had used in his hair to 'give it texture'. He thought it had looked quite suave when she had done it, and thought he succeeded quite well for his first time attempting anything resembling styling his hair. He thought with some practice, he could get it to look as good as she made it look.
When he was done, he stepped back and stared in the large mirror above his double sinks. He still looked like himself, but much more mature. Much more like he felt inside. He didn't feel like the same boy who had been before the battle. And maybe that was because he had been through so much in such a short period of time, or maybe it had to do with the fact that he no longer had a piece of Voldemort's soul lingering in his mind and body. He certainly felt more free and light.
He stepped back slightly and looked at his form in his new clothes. He hadn't allowed himself to really critique himself yesterday in front of Hermione. It felt too weird, like he was being conceited or something. But now that he was alone, he found a slight smile on his face as he turned this way and that, secretly admiring how the clothes fitted his body to a T. And surprisingly, these jeans looked good on his arse too! He chuckled to himself lightly, thinking of Hermione. And not only did his arse look good, but so did the rest of his body. His shirt, while not tight, was much more fitted than he was used to, and showed off his lean muscled quidditch body nicely. He hadn't been sure of buying V-necks before, but Hermione had insisted that it was incredibly sexy on men who had the right bodies for it. Harry had discovered how much Hermione liked using the word sexy, and laughed to himself again thinking about it. He then leaned forward and got a closer look at his face and hair. His friend had been right; it was a thousand percent better, no doubt about it. And now that he had perfect vision, he saw what the eye doctor had been talking about. Merlin, his eyes were vivid. He silently thanked his mother for passing that on. They were large and bright, and very, very green. He then examined the rest of his face, scrutinizing it as he never had before. His eyebrows were bold and framed his eyes nicely, and he had always been blessed with clear skin, thank Merlin.
He slipped on his new pair of casual grey loafers, and left the room.
That night, he helped the elves go through his trunk, cleaning it out and getting rid of the rubbish that he found lying about the bottom of it. He found that now that he had redone his home and actually had a comfortable, tasteful, homey place to call his own, he quite liked keeping his things organized and neat, and that now included his school supplies.
He had decided to swap out his trunk and use Sirius's old trunk instead. It had an extendable charm on the inside, much like Hermione's purple purse that she always carried around with her, so he would be able to take much of his new wardrobe with him to Hogwarts, while keeping everything nice and organized. And not only would he be able to keep more of his new items with him, but it also made him feel like he had a part of Sirius with him.
They packed up his new books, parchment, and quills, and completed the task at hand. He was all set for Hogwarts and found himself growing excited. There was only two days before he left for the train. He could technically apparate there, but wanted that one last experience of riding on the train with his friends, and buying way too many sweets from the trolley cart. He wanted to do this year right.
And then, thinking that there was only two days left to go to Hogwarts, he felt a slight pang in his stomach. How would it be to be back in the castle, after he had seen so much death and destruction there? Would it be the same? Would it still be the magical place that he had first seen as a fresh faced eleven-year-old? If it was even a fraction as magnificent as it used to be, he was ok with that. After all, all of the people that had died in the war, and at Hogwarts deserved to be remembered. Harry didn't think that completely making the castle as it was before was unrealistic.
And then, thinking about the coming school year, his thoughts drifted to Malfoy. With another twinge, he immediately felt incredible guilt. He had meant to give Malfoy back his wand at the end of the ministry after he spoke with him, but then they had had their moment, and it had flown out of his mind. By the time he had remembered, the thought of facing the blonde again was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. But more terrifying that anything else. His own response to Malfoy's kiss was what scared him the most. Not to mention how completely shocking and bewildered he had been that Malfoy had kissed him at all.
Seeing him at the ministry had been different. Yes, they had had a bit of a heated, charged moment at the end, but still, it had been different. It wasn't like they were going to jump each other in the middle of a crowded court room. Not that they were going to jump each other at all!
Now though, he thought he could handle it when he inevitably saw the blonde again. He would be mentally prepared, on his toes for whatever happened, if anything happened at all. Which again, nothing would happen!
And not only that, but he would be more confident than he had ever felt in his life. He felt like a new person, one unburdened with the weight of having a dark soul attached to him. One free of his awful muggle family. One who looked more mature and comfortable with his body than he had ever felt before.
He was free to do as he pleased now, aside from school, which he still didn't regret signing up for. Even if it was awful, which he doubted it would be with the majority of his friends going back, he still needed to finish his education. He had been told by Kingsley after the battle that if he wanted a job as an auror, he could have it right away. But Harry didn't feel comfortable with that. Not only was he uncomfortable with the special treatment, but he wasn't even sure if he wanted to be an auror anymore; that had been something that sounded good to him in 5th year. Now though, he thought he may have had enough violence, fighting and death to last him a lifetime. It was something he wanted to explore further this year at school.
He decided he would seek out Malfoy the first chance he got when they were both alone, and give him back his wand. He knew Malfoy must have been going crazy, not having his wand this whole time. He wondered how Malfoy felt knowing it was his wand that Harry had used to kill Voldemort. Maybe he didn't know.
Harry shook his head at his seemingly endless thoughts and ponderings of Malfoy. Honestly, he seemed to be as obsessed with him as Ron and Hermione had accused him of being their sixth year. Not that he would tell them, or anyone that, of course. No, this time, his obsession would be kept private. He figured they would get back to school, and nothing would happen; Malfoy would be his usual scornful, snotty self, and they would go back to trading the occasional insult. Just like normal. One could hope.
The next day was Harry's house-warming party. He refused to think of it as a birthday party. He hated the attention. Nevertheless, the Weasley's all brought gifts, except for Ginny, who had stayed at home to sulk, much to Harry's secret relief. He thought he had hidden his look of glee upon hearing that she wasn't coming from Mrs. Weasley, but by the twinkle in her amused eyes, he thought, perhaps not.
He had also invited Andromeda and Tonks back, as well as Luna and Neville, and they all had a great time catching up. Everyone marveled at his 'beautiful' home, and couldn't believe the transformation. Nor could they believe the transformation in Harry's appearance. He blushed bashfully as he received compliment after compliment, mostly from the women. He may feel more confident than ever before, but he didn't think he'd ever get used to receiving such forthcoming compliments. It left him feeling quite awkward.
After they were done fawning over his home and body, which George cheekily stated, 'was dead sexy, just like Hermione said', earning an eye roll from Harry and a glare from Ron, they ate the food that the elves had painstakingly prepared, and it was so good that Harry thought they must have taken the hint about his constant ravings about Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and gone to the burrow for pointers. He wasn't complaining.
After they had gotten their tour and eaten around the large living room casually, they spent a few hours enjoying each other's company. George was more animated than Harry had seen him since the battle, Harry happily noted. The company seemed to do everyone good, and Harry said goodbye to them later that night with a strong warmth radiating through him. This was what he wanted. Regardless of what career path he chose in the future, he wanted to feel this way always. Warm and content, knowing that he was home and he was surrounded by people he loved. If he could attain that, he thought he could be happy doing anything. He sighed happily and went to sleep early, knowing that tomorrow he would have to wake up early to make it to King's Cross in time for the train to depart. Again using his occlumency shields, he blocked out all of his feelings about the next day, and drifted off peacefully.
A/N: As always, please review! Reading them brightens my day and keeps me determined to continue with this story.