When Harry awoke the next morning, he found a note on the table next to his bed. Opening it, he saw that it had been sent from the Ministry of Magic but was clearly from Hermione herself. The brief letter explained that Hermione and George would be returning to London with Hermione's parents later that day, meaning it would really be another couple of days before they were back in London proper.

Once that was done, George was set to return to his London flat while Hermione decided to remain with her parents for at least a day or two.

Harry could absolutely understand that Hermione wouldn't want to leave her parents so soon after bringing them back home. Using Pig, which Ginny had brought with her from the Burrow, Harry sent a reply that would be waiting at Hermione's parents' home when they arrived, letting her know that he had received her letter and if she need anything, simply to let him know.

With Hermione absent from Grimmauld Place, that left just Harry and Ginny. For most former couples, especially one with as long and complicated a history as Harry and Ginny, this would have been awkward.

But it simply wasn't. Ever since their midnight encounter, there had been almost no tension between them at all. It was almost as if that evening had been a final farewell to their relationship.

They were certainly still close friends. In fact, Harry couldn't remember a time that he had been closer to Ginny. With the confines of Grimmauld Place being more compact than The Burrow's sprawl, there were only a certain number of places that you could go to avoid others despite the massive size of the home. Still, neither Harry or Ginny felt the need to do so. During the nearly five day span that Hermione was gone, they shared most of their meals together, talking avidly about the upcoming Quidditch season. They had each developed a wizarding chess set that had come to respect some of the moves they made, making it harder for the pieces to argue with them (although in true Weasley fashion, Ginny still typically thrashed Harry).

Harry realized that this was the exact relationship that he had with Ginny at Hogwarts for years but without any of the romantic tension that came with it. They had tried to make a relationship work but life had a different plan for the time being and they were both content in that knowledge. Simply put, Harry was happier with Ginny as a friend than a partner.

Nearly five days after Harry returned from Australia, Hermione returned home to Grimmauld Place.

Except she did not come home alone. As she walked through the front door, Harry was surprised to see Ron enter with her. In just the few days since Harry had seen him, Ron looked as if he had changed immensely. The bags under his eyes had grown and his hair was wild and unkempt. A ginger beard grew weakly on his face.

Overall, Ron looked like the average homeless person in London. But it was clear that Ron was there for a reason. When he entered Grimmauld Place, Ron looked at no one except Harry.

"We've already talked." Hermione said softly.

"Can we have the room?" Ron said to Hermione. Ginny looked at Harry nervously. The way their relationship had developed, it was clear that Ginny felt more concern for Harry than she did for Ron in this particular moment although given the state of Ron's appearance, she was probably onto something.

Still, Harry nodded his agreement and motioned for Hermione and Ginny to leave them. Once they were gone, Harry invited Ron to sit across from him in the dining room where they had shared so many meals before.

Things were different now. Harry could sense it. But then he realized that things had been different for awhile now.

Your parents are dead. You have no family.

This conversation was months in the making. When Ron returned from his self-imposed exile, Harry had been too wrapped up in the events surrounding his return to talk about his departure. After that, there didn't seem to be a good time. Eventually, it was something that simply got pushed to the side.

But in fact, it hadn't been pushed aside. It had simply been buried. It was still there, needling at both of them.

"I'm a bit of prat sometimes." Ron finally said, filling the awkward silence that had lingered between the two of them.

"Yes, you are." Harry replied, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. He was no longer bothering to hide his frustration with Ron. Hiding wouldn't serve anyone anymore. It was possible that when this conversation was over, they wouldn't be friends any longer. Harry didn't want that but he was tired of avoiding things with Ron. At least now, everything would be out in the open.

"Go easy." Ron pleaded. "I'm trying here."

"Why should I go easy, Ron?" Harry scoffed. "You were my first friend in the whole world. You know that, right? I didn't have any siblings, any family that loved me."

"You don't have to remind me. I saw the bars on your window."

"But you didn't live it." Harry countered, rocking forward and stabbing at the table with his finger before putting that same finger right in Ron's face. "You didn't have to deal with the torture of knowing that you were only going to get one meal a day or that you were going to spend hours locked in a closet. You were never made to feel like less than a person by the only family you've ever known."

"Do you know how wonderful it was? To find a friend in the world? Even if it had been only you, I would have been happy, knowing that there was one person out there who cared whether I lived or died."

"What does this have to do with what I said about you and Hermione?" Ron asked in confusion.

"You don't trust me." Harry said simply.

"I followed you for a year in the woods, Harry. I went with you searching for the Horcruxes!"

"And you left."

Silence. Harry could see the rage bubbling up inside Ron. That's when Harry realized that Ron had no idea that Harry's anger stretched back that far. In Ron's mind, he had returned and that made up for everything. In his mind, the only thing he had to apologize for was his words to Harry about sleeping with Hermione.

"I came back." Ron whispered, his teeth never truly separating.

"That doesn't change the fact that you left." Harry said evenly. "You abandoned us. You abandoned her."

"And I said I was sorry."

"You think that makes it okay?" Harry said, nearly laughing to keep from launching himself at Ron. "You think saying you're sorry makes everything okay? I said that I was going alone to find the Horcruxes. You and Hermione both said "not a chance." You took that leap together. Ron, you took that leap because of her."

It took a moment for Ron to completely understand what Harry's words meant. But when Harry's accusation became clear, Ron's rage finally surfaced.

"You think I wouldn't have gone if not for her?" Ron barked, his teeth still grinding together as he spoke.

"I think that she made your choice for you." Harry countered flippantly. "I think if she had decided to stick around, you would have stayed with her."

"How can you say that after everything we've been through?"

"Because you left!" Harry shouted, finally unable to contain his frustration. He grabbed the coffee mug that was on the table in front of him and launched it across the room, smashing it against the wall. Harry stood, towering over Ron, his breathing ragged and shallow. The look in Ron's eyes was one that Harry had never seen, at least not when looking at himself: fear.

Still, the anger that fueled Harry didn't let up and Harry pushed forward.

"You want to know why things would never work with her, Ron? Because you abandoned her. You think that it hurt me? Can you even imagine what you did to her?"

Ron didn't answer. Instead, he simply sat and stared at Harry in shock.

"I don't have to imagine, Ron, because I was still there." Harry said, his voice cold. Over the years, Harry had cultivated an ability to use his words to inspire. Never before had Harry truly desired to use that same ability to cause pain.

Not until now.

He knew what he was doing to Ron. He knew that with every additional word, his cut deeper into the soul of his friend but for the first time, Harry found that he didn't care.

"I was there, Ron." Harry repeated. "I was there when she cried herself to sleep. Not once. Not twice but dozens of times. I was there when she reacted to the twitch of every leaf and the rustle of every blade of grass as if it were you returning. I was there to see the look of despair and disappointment on her face when it wasn't you."

"This isn't the first time that you abandoned me either." Harry added.

"Is this about the Goblet of Fire again?" Ron said, rolling his eyes in frustration. "I already said I was sorry for being stupid about that."

"I don't care that you apologized. I care that you believed that I would do it in the first place. But you know what hurt the most? I told you, as my best friend, that I did not put my name into the Goblet, and you still didn't believe me." Harry said, punching each word as he finished.

Harry stared at Ron, waiting for him to say something. Instead, Ron simply looked dumbly at the floor.

"The Goblet of Fire, the tent, my relationship with Hermione: you didn't trust me with any of them. And you didn't trust her which is the most insane part."

"I know."

It wasn't the first time that Ron had admitted guilt in any of these matters. But, judging by the look on Ron's face, it was the first time that he appeared to truly gauge just how much damage his insecurities had caused. For years, Harry had been Ron's best friend and now they sat on opposite sides of the table, uncertain of how much longer that would last.

"Being my friend isn't easy. I made life hard for you, Ron." Harry admitted. "You went out of your way to befriend Harry. Not Harry Potter, not The Boy Who Lived. Just Harry. If you had known what you were getting yourself into when you were eleven, I doubt you would have followed through."

"You're wrong." Ron whispered softly, fighting back tears. When Ron spoke next, it was clear that he was choosing his words carefully with such a delicate nature that Harry had a hard time recognizing it as Ron. His voice, even as he fought through the tears that threatened to overwhelm him, was clear and exact.

He sounded like Hermione.

"I-I talked to George. He told me what he said to you that night at Fred's funeral. He was right and I-I was wrong. In the tent, I told you that you didn't have a family. I was wrong. My family is yours, Harry, and has been your family for years. My family loves you, Harry. I love you."

"I'm a jealous person. We both know that. When I was younger, there were times that I was jealous of just how much my family loved you. At first, I thought they loved you because of the Dursleys. They knew what kind of monsters they were and how terrible they were to you. I thought Mum and Dad were just making up for it. But, I was wrong. They loved you because you are my brother, just like Bill and Charlie and...Fred and George are my brothers."

"I don't have any excuse for The Goblet of Fire, Harry. You are right. I didn't trust you. I didn't trust you because I was tired of feeling like a third wheel and because I was stupid and fourteen years old. Hermione was a perfect student. The Ministry even gave her a Time Turner the year before. You...well, you were Harry Potter. I was just Ron. I was an idiot for ever believing that you could put your name in that Goblet."

"I would like to say that the Horcrux was the reason that I left but we both know that wasn't true. Again, I felt…..useless compared to you two. You had all of this insight on Riddle and Hermione was...she was just being Hermione. I was weak and The Horcrux knew that. It would speak to me, like it did when we destroyed it."

This was news to Harry. While wearing the Horcrux certainly made Harry feel worse, he had never literally heard it speak to him. Harry could see where that would have been unnerving to say the least.

"It would tell me all these horrible things about what you and Hermione were doing behind my back."

"You know that was just you, right?" Harry asked. "It was just echoing the things you were already thinking."

"I know." Ron admitted. "I was weak and I paid for that. I know that things may never be the same between us. I know that I left you and Hermione."

"What about what you said about Hermione and me?"

"I said I was weak, Harry." Ron echoed sadly. "Fred's death...messed me up more than I thought. It brought back all of those old feelings of uselessness. I was standing right there when he died. If I had been ten feet closer, maybe I could have saved him."

"Or you could have died." Harry countered.

"I know. I know that it's stupid to fight over this kind of thing."

"You think that I don't do that in my head?" Harry asked. "If I had been two steps over, I could have blocked Bellatrix's spell that killed Sirius. If I hadn't allowed Dumbledore to hex me, I could have saved him. There are so many "what if's" in our lives, Ron. But I learned a long time ago that dwelling on those didn't serve anyone."

"I'm learning." Ron chuckled. "But not fast enough. I felt useless and helpless and then Hermione didn't want me to go with her and all of those old thoughts that I had about the two of you popped back into my head and I lashed out. I know that you would never treat her like that, Harry, and I know that she would never let you but….I haven't been thinking rationally much since Fred died."

"I understand the feeling." Harry replied, truly understanding where Ron was coming from.

"I need to feel that kind of control again." Ron said firmly. "Kingsley asked me to join the Aurors and I agreed."

"Why?"

"I need to get my life back in order. I know that I won't be able to move forward unless I start doing something with my life. Ginny left home. Bill and Fleur were able to go back to their life. Same with Charlie and even George. But it was a bit like you were saying, Harry. I didn't have any plan for what we would do after we defeated Voldemort. I didn't have a plan for moving forward."

"And now you do." Harry said, surprised at the maturity he was hearing from Ron.

"I still grieve for Fred. But at least this will allow me to take that grief and turn it into something positive."

Harry had a sudden memory of Ron sitting on the grass by the Quidditch field. He had looked like a child again in that moment. Now, Ron, finally and fully at rock bottom, looked heart-broken and grief-stricken.

And yet, he was moving forward. He had chosen a path for himself. Despite the anger that Harry still felt for Ron, he couldn't help but be a bit proud for his oldest friend. Ron had never taken anything too seriously and he doubted that would change much but the fact remained that Ron had seen the worst of himself and was doing what he could to pick up the pieces and move on.

It was a lesson that Harry could learn from.

"I'm glad that you have that." Harry answered earnestly.

"So what do we do now?"

"We've been friends for too long to simply throw it all away." Harry said. "But I can't forget that lack of trust."

"So there's no starting over?"

"Ron, we've been friends since we were eleven. No, we can't start over...but we can rebuild. I hope so anyway."

Ron stood, a determined look in his eyes as he did so.

"I've not always been a good friend." Ron said.

"No one is." Harry said as they shared a short laugh.

"Well, I'll be better." Ron replied firmly. "Listen, Percy and I move into our apartment tomorrow. I would appreciate it if you could come help."

"Ron, you have the ability to do magic. What could you possibly need help with?"

"Well, first, we saw how long it took us to clean up my room so I imagine it won't be quite as easy as we imagine." Ron chuckled. "Plus, Seamus sent me a message yesterday. He wants to know if we want to go get some drinks in London with the rest of the Gryffindors from our year. The guys, that is."

"A Gryffindor Guys night in London?" Harry replied. "This seems like it could be a terrible idea."

"Oh, it probably is." Ron answered. "But I can't wait to try and get Neville to talk to some Muggle girls."

"Why didn't they ask me?" Harry asked.

"No one other than Hermione and Ginny has really seen you in a couple weeks." Ron replied. "I know I'm partially at fault for that but I think they were giving you the opportunity to say no."

"Nah, I'm in." Harry assured him. "I can't wait."

With that in mind, Harry showed up at The Burrow for the first time in awhile the next morning, ready to help Ron move. Hermione, while she was ready to live at Grimmauld Place again, still was spending most of her days with her parents. Ron, in what Harry hoped was a trend, was very understanding and told her not to worry about helping out. Part of it was that Ron was trying harder to be a good friend. Part of the reason for Ron's behavior was likely that he wanted the opportunity to spend some time beginning to repair his relationship with Harry. His relationship with Hermione, while contentious after the Battle of Hogwarts, was somehow nowhere near as damaged as his relationship with Harry.

Of course, Ron hadn't insinuated that Hermione invited Harry to Australia simply to bed him in the same way that he had to Harry, so in a way, it made sense that things were a bit rougher with Harry than Hermione.

Harry had expected the process to be quick and simple. Somehow, Ron made it infinitely more complicated than it should have been. If Hermione had been there, she likely would have fainted or murdered Ron based on the sheer lack of organization that Ron showed.

There was no rhyme or reason to his packing. He had simply unearthed a collection of old cardboard boxes and started bewitching objects to fly into them. Nevermind the fact that some of it was fragile or that it was far too large for the box. In that moment, Harry wished he had learned how to cast an Undetectable Extension Charm. It would have made life much simpler.

However, Harry did learn that Ron had charmed all of his belongings so that they wouldn't break, which did make Harry feel a little better about simply throwing everything in boxes. Still, even with all the protections that Ron had taken, it still took them nearly three hours to get everything into boxes due to Ron's terrible sense of spatial reasoning. Harry nearly quit the third time he tried to fit an entire bookshelf into a box about the size of a steamer trunk.

Finally, well after noon, they were done and able to start Apparating Ron's things to his new apartment. It was a small loft only a few blocks from the hidden entrance to the Ministry of Magic, an ideal location for both Ron and Percy. The best feature was the wall that faced the street was entirely made of glass. Percy had already charmed the glass so that any signs of magic were obfuscated from the outside.

Inside, the living room had a bedroom and kitchen attached to either side of it with a loft above it where a small reading area and second bedroom were located. It didn't take much to guess that Ron would be sleeping downstairs, far away from the reading area that Percy would be taking advantage of.

Once Harry was inside the bedroom, he could see why Ron would want to move in. This room was likely three times the size of Ron's old room in the Burrow. No longer would he be able to touch both sides of the room at the same time. Now, it would take a short run to go from one wall to the other.

With Harry's help, it only took two hours to get Ron largely unpacked. A few boxes remained in the corner of the room, things that Ron wasn't sure if he was going to keep or return to the Burrow. With that finished, Harry and Ron returned to The Burrow for lunch. Mrs. Weasley had made the both of them promise that they would come back so that they could talk to Harry, who they hadn't seen since he left after Ron's tantrum.

Sure enough, when they arrived, Molly Weasley had a spread for kings ready for the two of them. In fact, there was so much food that Harry sent a message to both Ginny and George, telling them to come to The Burrow and help eat all of the food that Molly had prepared. Both showed up within minutes, ready to consume a traditional home cooked meal for the first time in weeks.

Despite the circumstances of the past month, lunch was a relatively normal affair. George told a few stories about what life was like at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Harry watched George closely. He seemed to be doing better but there just was something about him that wasn't quite all there. It was obvious to anyone in the room what the issues at WWW were related to but George refused to say it aloud. Fred's presence, or lack thereof, floated around every issue that he mentioned but was never once mentioned by name.

It was moments like this when Harry realized just how fundamentally things had been changed by the war. Life, for the most part, had returned to some resembling normalcy. Things were different certainly but that was always going to be the case. Winning the war meant that Harry went from being folklore hero to actual wizarding hero. It meant a list of different responsibilities and it meant the pressure of living up to the first seventeen years of his life for the remainder of it.

But for people like George, someone who had lost someone so fundamental in his life, things were "normal" again and yet, there would always be something off. George was no longer hiding from the world. He wasn't sulking in a corner and fighting his mental battles in isolation. George was a present and persistent part of the world.

Yet, broken he remained. In a way, that would be life for everyone until their own death. There was no magic that could bring back their loved ones. No magic that would bring back a sense of comfort or ease. Everyone had been touched by war, chaos and despair and despite the best efforts of everyone, it would remain that way for the rest of their lives.

Still, Harry was encouraged to see George trying to return to his life. It would never be the same and Harry could see the struggle as George fought to acknowledge that. However hard that was for him, he still persisted, he still fought, he still moved forward.

It was all anyone could and Harry was proud of George for doing what he could to live his life.

It's all Fred would have wanted.

Lunch ended up drifting well into the evening, which left just a short amount of time for Harry to return home, explain to Hermione and Ginny where he would be for the evening, shower, change and then arrive at The Leaky Cauldron promptly at nine o'clock. Of course, Harry raced through all of those activities so that he would be on time.

Neville was the next person to show up at nearly 9:30 at which point, Harry was already mostly finished with the terrible ale that Tom had pushed in front of him.

Almost immediately afterwards, Ron entered the tavern followed shortly by Dean and Seamus. Harry was amazed at how much each of them had changed in just the few weeks since he had seen them last. Dean had been forced to spend nearly a week in St. Mungo's after The Battle of Hogwarts due to the fact that he had reportedly spent nearly twenty minutes dueling Rabastan Lestrange with a wand that he had simply found lying on the ground at Hogwarts. The stress from using that much magic for that long of a time with a foreign wand apparently caused him to suffer from a series of blackouts, solved only by copious amounts of food, a solution that Dean had no problem indulging in.

Seamus, complete with a thin beard, had been staying with Dean. Reportedly, Seamus' relationship with his mother was not in a good place. After that battle, she was one of the people (a distinct minority but a group still large enough to be heard) who had blamed Harry for the entire war, let alone the battle at a school. When Seamus had first heard this, he had tried to explain to his mother what had happened (as much as he knew). But it was clear that after years of indoctrination by the former Ministry, there was no getting through to her. That night, Seamus packed up his belongings and stole away to Dean's home in Stratford.

He hadn't returned home since that night and his letters to his mother had gone unanswered. For Seamus' sake, Harry hoped that he was able to restore his relationship with his mother someday. Too many families had been ripped apart due to death for a mother to ostracize her living son.

Neville had also accepted Kingsley's offer to join the Auror Academy. It made sense. While Neville was no longer looked at as the inept child he had been, there was still the matter of living up to his parents' legacy that would always push Neville to do better. That had especially become true as two days after The Battle of Hogwarts, only a few hours apart, both Frank and Alice Longbottom passed away in their sleep.

Reportedly, in the hour before her death, Alice spoke her first word since the attack: son. When Neville told them this, Harry could help but notice that he said it with a bit of relief. For decades, they had been stuck in a place somewhere between life and death, alive in the technical sense while closer to death than present in life. Now, whatever peace could be found on the other side was theirs for the taking.

After a couple rounds of the most watered down ale Harry had ever tasted (which admittedly wasn't a long list), Seamus revealed his plan for the evening. Apparently, a new Muggle bar had opened just a few blocks from Diagon Alley. Seamus had already purchased two rooms at the Cauldron for the evening just in case which, in Harry's mind, might have been the most planning Seamus had ever done in his life that didn't involve girls or blowing something up.

This new bar was supposedly a relatively relaxed spot, specifically intended for people roughly their age. Of course, most Muggles their age were getting ready to head off to university while they were getting ready to start their careers.

Three of them were anyway. On their way to the bar, Neville and Ron had already started talking about what they expected the Auror Academy to be like. At the same time, Harry listened to Dean mentioned that he had decided to skip returning to Hogwarts. Instead, he had been hired by the Wimbourne Wasps where he would be working as a league scout. That meant that his job was to attend the game of the team the Wasps would be playing next, taking notes on things that he thought they could take advantage of.

He was literally watching Quidditch for a living.

Meanwhile, Seamus joining the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, a level of irony that left Harry laughing out loud. Apparently, Professor McGonagall herself had sent a letter of recommendation, claiming that other than Sirius Black and the Weasley twins, she had known "no one quite as versed in the ways of chaos, calamity and carnage."

They had hired him on the spot.

Once again, everyone around him seemed to be moving on with their lives. Yet, Harry remained stuck in place, living in his deceased godfather's home without a plan for what he was doing.

Harry decided that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, Harry would simply enjoy himself.

And enjoy himself he did. The bar was as low-key as advertised with lounge chairs instead of bar stools. It felt a bit like the Gryffindor Common Room but with whiskey and gin instead of pumpkin juice. The five boys of Gryffindor enjoyed their evening. They did, in fact, convince Neville to talk to a Muggle girl.

However, Harry could hear Neville explain that he was dating someone right now and was only talking to her so his friends would leave him alone.

She gave him her number and said that if he decided the girl he was seeing wasn't for him, that he was supposed to give her a call. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Years ago, Neville would have begged for a chance with a beautiful girl. Now, he was turning down a girl who was readily handing him her number to stay with Ginny.

The night went well. Conversation stuck to the upcoming Quidditch League, the rumors that George and Harry were interested in buying the Chudley Cannons (not true but an interesting idea) and Lee Jordan and Katie Bell's upcoming wedding (apparently, he had proposed to her the morning of the Battle).

It was the walk home where things got interesting. While it was only a few blocks from the bar back to the Leaky Cauldron, none of them had quite realized just how much they had consumed that evening until they went to stand up. Suddenly, a walk that had taken them roughly fifteen minutes on the way there took them nearly an hour on the way back, highlighted by Dean finally emptying his stomach in an alley only half a block from The Leaky Cauldron.

Harry stumbled into his room, followed by Ron and Neville. None of them bothered changing into any different clothes. They simply collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

When Harry awoke, he couldn't tell whether it was minutes later or if it was possible that he had slept for several years. The room spun as Harry sat up, sunlight pouring into the window. If Harry had been aware, he would have noticed that the sun was high in the sky. As it was, Harry wasn't aware of much at the moment other than the splitting headache pressing on the back of his skull.

Harry turned, nearly falling off the bed as he did, trying to see what Ron and Neville were doing. However, when he looked at the other bed they had shared, it was empty. Harry's first thought was that they had likely gone down to the barroom for breakfast. While the thought of food was not necessarily appetizing at the moment, Harry knew that some food in his stomach might keep the room from spinning.

So, it was with great support from the walls that Harry made his way down the stairs to the barroom. Harry's intention was to have a seat at the bar and order some food. What actually happened was that Harry took one step away from the wall and immediately lurched forward, his face ready for impact with the floor.

At least it would have been if someone hadn't been there to keep him from going down in the first place. Looking to his right, Harry saw Cho Chang's head appear under his arm, taking his weight onto her shoulders.

"You alright there, Harry?" Cho smirked as she lead Harry towards the bar.

"Been better." Harry slurred gently as he slumped onto a bar stool. Once Cho saw that he was steady, she took the seat next to him.

"Drinking for any reason in particular?" Cho asked as she motioned for Tom to bring some food.

"Nope. Guys in my year went to a bar last night. Drank too much so we crashed here."

"How much did you have to drink?"

"Like five or eight beers?"

"Five or eight?" Cho said with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well, I remember five but I feel like eight's a better answer for how I look."

"It would certainly be if you were an alcoholic." Cho remarked. "But I have to guess that you don't drink much."

"Last night was the…..third time?"

"Well, you're handling yourself pretty well for only your third time."

"Am I at least sitting up straight?"

Cho laughed. "Would you like the truth?"

"No."

"Good. You should lean up against the bar. It'll keep the room from spinning quite so much."

"Sounds like you've got some experience with this kind of thing."

"I've worked for the Ministry of Magic for the last year. It was part of the job description while Thicknesse was in charge."

"Damn." Harry replied. "I didn't know you worked at the Ministry."

"When was the last time you talked to me, Harry?"

"The memorial." It was an answer that Harry wouldn't have given had he been sober. As it was, he was struggling to stay upright, let alone keep his mouth from flapping inappropriately.

"Right." Cho replied, deflating quickly. Even in his rough state, Harry could see what his words did to Cho, reminding her of friend's death once more. Obviously, he hadn't intended to hurt her.

"Sorry. You're right. We haven't talked that much."

"Yeah."

"We could change that."

Cho turned to him, a clear look of confusion on her face.

"Excuse me?"

If Harry had stopped to think, he would have probably lost his nerve. But the way things stood in his life, Harry wanted something to change. He wanted to feel some sort of evolution in his life. While some would look at spending time with Cho as reverting back to an older version of him, Harry didn't feel the same way.

Harry was different from then and Cho seemed to be different too. Even if nothing came of it, just stepping out of his comfort zone and doing something different would be a step in the right direction.

"We haven't talked much. We should change that."

"Why?"

"Why not?" Harry replied, turning slowly in his chair to face Cho. "Listen, I'm hungover, I'm not drunk. Right now, all I really want is a big, greasy meal, the world's glass of water and my bed. But after that, I would love to take a shower and meet you for dinner."

It was as articulate as Harry could possibly have been at that moment and he suddenly found himself hoping that it would work.

Cho stared at Harry for a moment, clearly confused. Harry watched as her face seemed to shift from confusion to consideration to something that Harry didn't recognize.

"It's not a date." Cho finally said sternly, the look on her face letting Harry know just how serious she was about their evening not being a date.

"That's fine." Harry replied. "Not a date. Dinner between acquaintances."

"There will be no nightcap at your place or mine." Cho added. "Or anywhere else."

"Cho, it's dinner, I get it." Harry smirked. "You make the rules. We'll do dinner. If we decide we're having a good time and want to do something else, great. But I'm expecting dinner and then a very early bedtime for me this evening."

Cho considered Harry's offer for a moment before she nodded her head.

"The shower is a good idea. You smell a bit of beer."

"My apologies."

"Meet here at eight. Wear the suit you wore when you showed up at the Ministry when we caught the Malfoys."

"How do you know what I was wearing? More importantly, how did you know we caught the Malfoys?"

"I work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Plus, I saw you walking through the Atrium that day. You looked good."

"So I'm wearing a suit. You're sure this is just dinner?"

"It's a nice dinner. I love this place but I have to dine alone most of the time because my friends can't afford it."

"And you think I can?"

"You're a Potter. If you inherited any of your grandfather's money, you'll be fine. Plus, you inherited the Black seat in the Wizengamot which also means that you inherited the estate."

"You know a lot about this stuff."

"It was my dad's thing."

"Was?"

"Maybe we'll talk about that tonight." Cho replied as she stood up. "I've got some work to do. Eat what Tom brings you until you feel right. Go home, get some rest and meet me here in that suit at eight."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll see you tonight, Harry."

"Until then."

With that, Cho collected her things and was gone. Harry sat as Tom fed him plate after plate of eggs and sausages. Finally, when he felt up to it, Harry Apparated back to Grimmauld Place where he set his alarm clock before collapsing onto his bed.

It wasn't a date. Harry wasn't interested in a date, to be honest. He was interested in moving forward and dinner with Cho Chang certainly counted, even if it was just a small step in the right direction.