Harry's visit to the Ministry of Magic wound up taking far longer than planned. The Auror Office had many more secrets worth exploring, including a secret potions lab, a holographic map of Great Britain that could be interacted with, and even a defense training course. Then Harry went down to the Department of Magical Transportation on Level Six to ask about getting his Apparition license; he was forced to wait nearly two hours to take his test, which took all of about two minutes when he successfully Apparated to the other end of the hall without losing any eyebrows. Harry bumped into Percy on his way to the lift, who requested he wait "a couple of minutes" for him to finish some paperwork, but it was another hour when he and Percy finally tracked down Arthur and they were headed home.
"I've done it, Father!" Percy said excitedly as they sat in the dilapidated train car, zooming back up the tracks towards McCamish Station. "They found a new position for me in the Department of Magical Transportation! I'll be in charge of the Portkey Network. It's a demotion technically, but I thought for sure I'd be fired!"
"I told you there was nothing to worry about, son," Arthur beamed proudly as they were jostled sideways by the car recoupling with the Muggle train. "Your mother will be thrilled to hear it." Sure enough, when they returned to the Burrow, Molly shrieked with joy at the news and hugged Percy as tightly as though he'd just announced he was elected Minister of Magic. She did the same for Harry when he told her about his successful Apparation test.
Dinner that evening was a celebratory affair, but Harry was quietly anxious the whole time. He told everyone what Kingsley had said about Gringotts, but only the part about the Ministry smoothing it over. He would only tell Ron and Hermione the second part, which was that the goblins were still furious and seeking retribution. He also felt awkward sitting beside Ginny, whom he had promised to talk to after returning home, but he still didn't know what to say to her. Luckily dinner went long and progressed into everybody sitting around and sharing stories over Firewhiskey, so he had an excuse to postpone their talk until later.
The following week was a slow affair, and Harry found himself alone with his thoughts more often. Once the initial euphoria of having Harry around wore off, everyone retreated to their own personal love affairs. Ron and Hermione would disappear for hours on end and return giggling, looking positively thunderstruck. Molly and Arthur had never seemed closer, and Arthur even managed to convince his wife to quit her incessant busy work on numerous occasions to snuggle on the sofa. Percy was often "working late" on his off-hours, but Arthur had it on good authority that he was dating a young witch named Audrey Toppin from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.
Harry wound up spending a good amount of time with George on these lazy days, idly playing wizard chess or flying brooms in the garden, but George had been attending to his shop in Diagon Alley more and more frequently. That only left Harry and Ginny, and he knew he couldn't put off the big conversation with her forever. "Say Ginny, fancy a walk?" he finally asked her on a sunny afternoon, ignoring the knowing stares from Ron and Hermione in the living room as she got up to join him in the garden.
They made small talk for a while, catching up on the last year of their lives and discussing the future. "D'you know what you're going to do next year?" Harry asked. "Attend your seventh year?"
"I'm not sure yet," Ginny sighed. "I thought I might try out for the Quidditch League. They hold open tryouts for anyone of-age, and I'll be seventeen when the league opens in August."
"Really?" said Harry. "Has anyone that young ever made a team?"
"Krum did it a few years back," Ginny pointed out. "He was planning to ditch his last year at Durmstrang to play professionally, but then the Triwizard Tournament happened and he stuck around."
"I reckon you could do it," Harry encouraged her. "You're one of the best players Hogwarts has seen in ages."
"I was alright," Ginny said modestly. "You were the real star of those teams, not me. My last season started out okay, before the Carrows started hexing the non-Slytherin players out of the sky and the other teams boycotted in protest." Somehow Harry was not surprised to hear this tidbit of news; everything he'd heard about the Carrow siblings was abhorrent.
"Come off it, I only played a single full season in my third year!" Harry protested. "You won the Cup twice without me, with Ron as your Keeper—no offense. And you can play two positions brilliantly. Any team would be lucky to have you." Ginny blushed at this, and Harry wondered if he was being too complementary. Was he coming off as desperate? In any case, Ginny recovered quickly.
"I'm hoping that's what helps me, being flexible on position," said Ginny. "A lot of reserve players have to learn multiple roles, in case of injury you see. But hey, if tryouts don't go well, I can always finish my last year and try again next summer. Would make Mum happy...and I could keep Hermione company, of course."
"Hermione?" said Harry quizzically. "You don't reckon she'll…"
"C'mon Harry, do you really think she won't complete her education?" Ginny scoffed. "School is her whole identity. Even if McGonagall gave her an honorary diploma she'd want to take her N.E.W.T. exams just for kicks." Harry laughed aloud at this. He'd forgotten how much he missed Ginny's dry sense of humor. Her witty delivery. Her smile. Her hair…
"I suppose we should talk about our future," Harry sighed. Ginny's demeanor grew serious at once; clearly she'd been readying herself for this conversation.
"I suppose we should," she said. Neither of them said anything for a few moments as they strolled down the path towards nowhere in particular. Perhaps they both hoped the other would break the ice first…
"I love you, Ginny," said Harry honestly. "I know that much has never changed."
"I love you too, Harry," Ginny said at once, studying his expression, knowing surely it wasn't that easy.
"Part of me wants to run away with you somewhere and never look back," Harry admitted. "But another part of me is still scared to be near you."
"I'm not a boggart, you don't have to be scared of me," Ginny teased, in the hopes of lightening the mood. Harry humored her with a small chuckle.
"I don't know if it's safe," he elaborated. "Voldemort may be gone, but his followers are still out there, and they'll all be wishing me dead right about now. The last thing I'd want is for you to get hurt because of me."
"I can handle myself, thank you," Ginny said crossly. "D'you think maybe you're just afraid of letting your guard down?"
"What d'you mean by that?" asked Harry.
"Well, I know you've been having nightmares—"
"Did that git George really tell everyone?"
"I visited you in Gryffindor Tower after the Battle," Ginny explained. "You were tossing and turning the entire time. And I've heard you when I pass by George's door, every night."
"Then you understand where I'm coming from," said Harry. "I've got to sort myself out before I can worry about other people."
"You don't have to do these things alone!" Ginny protested, stopping in her tracks to face Harry directly. "You're worried about exposing me to a few nightmares?"
"Do you know how many times I've seen you dead in my dreams?!" Harry demanded, growing hot now. "Too many to count, and it rips me apart every time! I'd rather lose you to someone else than see you get killed because of me." Harry's chest heaved, as though he'd just admitted a terrible secret he'd been holding in for years. Ginny considered this for a moment in silence.
"Well that's dramatic," she said dryly. "And idiotic. What is it with boys and making these grand statements that make zero sense?"
"Don't mock me."
"I just think it's silly to push me away because you care so much about me. It's not chivalrous, it's selfish."
"Selfish?!"
"What about me?" Ginny demanded. "Spending an entire year reading the Prophet, listening to the radio, waiting for any kind of news about you on the run? Expecting you to turn up dead or captured any minute? Then you finally come back, and you pretend like I'm not even here? Have you even considered what I must be going through?!"
Harry was struck by this. Ginny had tears in her eyes now, and she was done joking around too. He had a strong urge to grab her and run, never letting her go. He reached up to brush a tear from her face, but she angrily swatted his hand away.
"Don't play games with me, Harry Potter," she said angrily. "What do you want?"
"I don't know," Harry sighed. "Time, I guess. To sort it all out."
"I can't promise I'll wait for you," Ginny said hotly. "Do you know how many boys I had to swat away last year?"
"Okay," Harry nodded, swallowing a lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. He now regretted his statement about preferring to lose her to another man. "Erm...friends, for now?"
"Please, we're practically family," said Ginny, holding back tears. "That'll never change." And she swept past him back up the path towards the Burrow. Harry waited awkwardly for a few minutes before following, to avoid an awkward return. He could feel the curious eyes of everyone upon him when he returned to the building, but he ignored everyone and went straight up to George's room, shutting himself inside.
Why did he feel like such an idiot? He cared about Ginny more than anything in the world, even himself. But he knew the dangers he was putting himself in as an Auror, and he wasn't comfortable opening Ginny up to potential loss. He knew it was the smart decision. And the proof lay several stories below him, where he could hear little Teddy cooing and crying as Andromeda tended to him. Orphaned from a young age, to parents who knew the risks but defied them anyway, and now Teddy would pay the price for their decisions. Harry was done with subjecting others to loss on his behalf.
Harry awoke with a start on the morning of Fred's funeral to a loud CRACK. He and George each leapt out of bed in alarm to see Kreacher standing in between them.
"Bloody hell," George groaned, rubbing his eyes. "This how you set your morning alarms, Potter?"
"Kreacher has returned with news on Grimmauld Place," said the house-elf to Harry, ignoring George. "Kreacher has examined the house for protective magic and traps and found none."
"Took you long enough," Harry groaned, sinking back into his pillow. "What have you been up to?"
"Many dangerous objects in the Black household," Kreacher explained. "Kreacher tested all of them to make sure they would not harm Master."
"Oh...thanks, Kreacher," said Harry. "You didn't have to do that…"
"You're going back to Sirius' old place then, Harry?" asked George.
"Yeah, I think I am," Harry shrugged. "Figured I've outstayed my welcome here."
"Nonsense, Mum and Dad would let you stay for the rest of your life if you wanted," said George. "But I get it. Some space to yourself sounds nice, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess so," said Harry. "Thanks Kreacher, you can go back to Grimmauld Place. I'll probably join you in a day or two." Kreacher bowed deeply and disappeared with another CRACK.
"Well, no use trying to sleep after that," George huffed, starting to get dressed for the day. "Gonna check on the shop before the ceremony. And say Harry, you ought to swing by one of these days. Got a business proposition for you."
"Oh. Yeah, I can do that," said Harry, and George left the room. Harry knew it was pointless for him to try and sleep again as well, so he eventually threw off the covers and got up to begin his day.
The lead-up to the funeral was hectic, as people were pouring in from all over the country to pay their respects. There would be a heavy Ministry presence in attendance, including the Minister himself, so Harry saw many of the same Aurors he'd met the week prior arriving to discuss security with the Weasleys. Harry decided to take a walk to stay out of everyone's way, and he saw Ron and Hermione sitting on a nearby hillside together. He planned to turn and walk the other way to give them privacy, but they spotted him and waved him over, so he walked up the hill and sat beside them.
"What's next for you, Harry?" asked Hermione. "Any plans for the summer?"
"Not really," Harry shrugged. "Probably gonna head back to Grimmauld Place tomorrow."
"Really?" said Ron, surprised. "I thought you hated that place!"
"It's not so bad, really," Harry lied. "I could just use some space, is all. And I don't want to be a burden on George."
"Oh please, he has his own room at Diagon Alley," Ron dismissed him. "He's spent way more nights here than before you showed up. I think he appreciates the company."
"Harry deserves some alone time of his own, though," said Hermione. "I can't imagine anyone who needs a vacation more than him."
"Honestly, I think I've outstayed my vacation time," said Harry. "I'm gonna take up Kingsley's offer to join the Auror Office."
"What?!" and Ron and Hermione at once.
"Have you guys even been to the Ministry in the past two weeks?" asked Harry. "It's a mess! They need all the help they can get."
"But you've done more than enough already!" said an exasperated Hermione. "You killed Voldemort! I don't think anyone would mind if you took a year or two off."
"I'm not built for that, Hermione," said Harry. "Every summer I just sat in my room on Privet Drive waiting to go back to Hogwarts. I hate sitting around and doing nothing all day!"
"I just worry that you're biting off more than you can chew," Hermione sighed. "Doing classwork at Hogwarts is one thing, but you're talking about hunting Death Eaters full-time! Just be careful, will you?"
"I will," Harry promised. "What about you two? You know you're welcome at Grimmauld Place any time."
"We didn't tell you, mate?" said Ron. "We're off to Australia tomorrow!"
"You—wait, really?" asked Harry.
"My parents are still living there," explained Hermione. "I have to find them and reverse the Memory Charm I put on them last summer. Then I'm gonna introduce them to Ron, and we're making a vacation out of it—"
"We'll be there for a month!" said Ron excitedly. "Doesn't that sound great?"
"Yeah, it does," Harry had to admit. Part of him wanted to ask if he could join, but he knew he'd be a third wheel so he bit his tongue. "You two have fun. You deserve it."
"But we'll be back in time for the World Cup!" Ron added hastily. "You'll be there with us, right?"
"World Cup?" asked Harry.
"Quidditch, mate, c'mon!" said Ron. "Happens every four years, remember? The whole family's going again!"
"But I thought it got canceled?"
"Nah, it's back on now that the war's over! It's in Morocco this year...it'll be insane!"
"Brilliant!" said Harry, excited now. He finally had something to look forward to beyond the funeral. It was disconcerting for his future to be as wide-open as it was, nothing on his horizon for the first time in his life. It had been nearly a year and a half since he last played or even thought about Quidditch, and the thought that such pleasures could still be enjoyed was such a wonderful one he could hardly believe it. The wizarding world was healing after all…
The news of Ron and Hermione's departure was a shame, though, and he pondered this as he strolled back down the path towards the house. He'd spent nearly every day of the past year with them, and for a moment he'd foolishly believed they'd never be apart again. But they were all adults now, and his friends were a couple at that; he couldn't expect them to be around every hour of every day. Harry just couldn't shake the feeling that the older he got, the fewer people were in his life...today's funeral was just an example of that—
"Oh, Harry dear," said Andromeda Tonks, breaking his reverie as he entered the garden, "could you watch Teddy for a couple minutes? I've got to run inside and use the restroom."
"Uh—" Harry said uncertainly, but he couldn't rightfully protest; he took the baby from Andromeda and she hurried up to the house. Harry held Teddy uncomfortably, watching the youngster stare up at him with his wide eyes. Teddy hiccuped, and his hair turned jet-black again. He reached for Harry's spectacles, but Harry pulled his head away. "Sorry, mate. Need these to see."
Harry could barely stand to look at Teddy; doing so reminded him too much of Lupin and Tonks. Reminded him of the rough path he had ahead of him. Harry had never considered himself a good role model, and he wasn't sure if he would be a good influence on this kid. All the mistakes he'd made...all the darkness he'd seen...Teddy shouldn't be laughing and imitating his hair like he was doing now, he should be cowering in fear and staying far away.
Harry walked back up to the house with Teddy and managed to pass him off to Molly, who was delighted to take him. People were starting to flood in for the ceremony, and Harry decided to hide in George's room until it was time. He changed into a nice pair of dress robes and lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, already dreading what was to come. He hadn't had time to properly grieve everyone they'd lost at the Battle of Hogwarts, and he found it best to not think about it too much. It was painful enough to miss their company; thinking about the loss hurt even worse.
Eventually there came a knock at the door. "We're all walking down now," came a voice. Harry stood up and walked downstairs, where a procession was forming out the door and down the dirt path. Harry could see the Weasley family leading the group some distance away, all dressed in black and holding one another for comfort. Behind them walked a group of witches and wizards in official Ministry attire; Harry saw Kingsley Shacklebolt's distinctive purple spangled hat among them. He fell into line with the others and made the short journey to the family cemetery just down the road.
The cemetery was a small plot of land enclosed by an iron fence. Harry saw the names of several Weasleys and Prewetts on headstones as they passed by. The procession spread out in a wide semi-circle around a freshly-settled grave, upon which sat a beautiful headstone that read:
Fred Weasley
1 April 1978 – 2 May 1998
"Mischief managed."
Harry was already choked up just looking at the beautiful inscription, and he quickly looked away. He glanced to his left and saw a group of faces he hadn't seen in years: Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Oliver Wood, all former members of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in Harry's first year. Harry slid over beside them and gave them all a somber greeting; they shared a cathartic group hug before turning to watch the beginning of the ceremony.
First Arthur gave a short speech thanking the attendees for coming and giving a short eulogy for his son. Molly went after, but she was unable to get more than a few sentences into her prepared remarks and returned to Arthur's side. Then Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Ginny gave short speeches; Ron's was the hardest to listen to, as he'd looked up to Fred the most of anyone, and he barely finished his speech before returning to sob silently on Hermione's shoulder.
Then there was a short song performed by Myron Wagtail, the lead vocalist of Fred's favorite band, the Weird Sisters, and a touching tribute from Minerva McGonagall about Fred's misadventures at Hogwarts. Finally the Minister stepped forward to give his speech. It espoused Fred's bravery and valor fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts, and a reminder to all that our actions in life define how we are remembered in death. By the time Kingsley concluded his remarks, there wasn't a dry eye left in the crowd.
The crowd fell into an extended moment of silence to remember Fred. It was punctuated only by the occasional sniffle, cough or escaped sob from the congregation. Suddenly there was a loud crackling sound, and everyone went on alert, concerned, looking for the source of the disturbance. Sparks were emitting from Fred's grave, shooting up into the sky. Then there was a loud BANG, and a plume of purple smoke engulfed everyone; when the smoke cleared, the word "GIT" was burned into Fred's headstone across his name.
"How DARE you?!" Molly shrieked, hitting George across the head.
"C'mon Mum, it's what he wanted!" George protested. "It was in his will—"
"And we agreed that it was disrespectful and tasteless!" Molly shouted.
"It'll wash off in a couple days, Mom, I swear—"
"There are Ministry officials here, and you have now embarrassed yourself AND the family—"
Molly trailed off, as there was low, rumbling laughter coming from the front row. The Minister of Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was shaking with laughter, unable to contain it. A few other Ministry members followed suit, and soon the entire congregation had joined in. It was contagious; once Harry started laughing, he wasn't able to stop, and soon the tears rolling down his face were from laughter rather than grief.
"It's all right, Molly," said Kingsley in a reassuring voice. "I can't imagine a better way to honor Fred. He would have wanted us to laugh. We could all use a little levity in these times."
"I—well—of course you're right, Minister," said Molly, though she was still cross with George. She gave him a savage look that said, We will discuss this later, to which George could only shrug sheepishly.
Soon everyone was talking animatedly, sharing their favorite stories about Fred. Harry just about fell out of his seat laughing when Ron recounted the time Fred convinced him and Ginny as kids that they wouldn't get into Hogwarts unless they could shove ten Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans up each nostril, and Ron had nearly succeeded until he sneezed and hit Ginny in the face with his. Percy recalled the time everyone laughed at him on the first day of seventh year because Fred had secretly charmed his "Head Boy" badge to read "Dead Bore". By the end of the afternoon Harry's stomach hurt from giggling so much at Fred's hijinks. Even George looked livelier than he had in weeks, sharing stories of his own and laughing at those of others. The Minister was right...this was exactly what Fred would have wanted.
Eventually people began trickling back towards the Burrow, where snacks were provided. Harry lagged behind the group to wait for Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was paying his respects privately to Molly as she quietly wept in his patient arms. Harry stood respectfully at a distance until Molly and Arthur were walking back to the house, arm in arm, and he stepped forward.
"Evening, Minister," he said.
"Ah, Harry my boy!" Kingsley smiled. "Good to see you. My condolences for your friend."
"Yeah, thanks," Harry nodded. "Listen...I've thought about your offer, and I've decided to accept."
"You wish to join the Auror Office?" said Kingsley, eyebrows raised.
"Yes sir. I promise to work hard every day, and you will not regret putting your trust in me."
"I don't doubt it," Kingsley smiled. "When can we expect you to start?"
"How about Monday?"
That surprised Kingsley immensely. "I would have thought," he pondered aloud, "that you would choose to enjoy your summer vacation first?"
"I've never much liked summers, personally," Harry admitted. "Or vacations for that matter. I'd rather get things done...especially considering how swamped the Ministry is right now."
"That's very noble of you, Harry," said Kingsley. He extended his hand. "Well, if you wish. Welcome to the Auror Office."
Harry shook the Minister's hand eagerly, noting the concerned look Ron and Hermione exchanged nearby. He didn't care. They could go traipsing around Australia all they wanted. Harry was restless here, feeling stuck out of time, like there were a million things to be done and he was lagging behind. Moping around the Burrow for another three months wouldn't make him feel any more ready. He had things to do, dark wizards to catch, scores to settle.
He could rest when he was dead.