Harry felt extremely embarrassed. He had woken up somewhere around midnight, having slept through the entire day before, and discovered himself on the sofa. Ginny was curled up like a cat, on an armchair close to his head, Hermione was snoring lightly, head on top of three books opened one on top of the other, and Ron snored like a fire truck opposite her. He was sure the other Weasleys were up in their bedrooms – his friends probably didn't want to leave him alone.
The thought warmed him, just like their memories had. In fact, Harry wasn't sure if he slept throughout the day or if he was in a trance- Hermione's otter had brought every happy memory Hermione had ever spent with him. Same with Ron, and Ginny.
Ginny.
Her memories made Harry ache from within. Every sunlit afternoon he had spent with her, strolling through Hogwarts, every stolen kiss during his precious sixth year, every careless touch echoed through his mind, again and again. He was astonished she even remembered everything with such detail.
Harry had never seen himself from someone else's point of view. But the memories made him reconsider.
Ron's memories were surprisingly touching- he had, from the first second they'd met on the train, considered Harry his brother. He had treated Harry no different than he would've treated a normal person – none of that Boy-who-lived crap. Harry had felt his fear when he had stood up to protect him from Sirius Black – Harry had no idea why that was a good memory, but he could feel Ron's determination to not lose him, Harry.
Ronald Weasley would give his life for him.
Harry groaned. He didn't want anyone to make that sort of sacrifice- hadn't enough people died?
Hermione's memories were tender and intense at the same time. Harry had felt her misery and doubt during the first year, when they weren't friends yet – she had been scared no one would talk to her, for she was such a nerd. Hermione's memories conveyed gratitude – Harry had no idea she felt lucky to be able to support him and be his friend. He had felt her surge of anger when she had discovered how Umbridge was punishing him – the fierce protectiveness and helplessness that he felt through her memories shook him.
Of course, Harry knew his friends loved him- all he had were his friends! But sometimes he couldn't help but wonder whether they regretted meeting him, befriending him in that train, or if they were tired of defending him and sticking by his side no matter what happened all around him, no matter what the Slytherins said, the Prophet said, the Ministry said – Ron's own brother, Percy had once called him violent! Ron had shredded and burned that letter in the fireplace.
Harry had been planning to bolt as soon as the coast was clear. But the memories held him in place.
Also, he couldn't take his eyes off Ginny. She looked angelic – Harry couldn't remember anyone ever being so pretty. Her coppery curls framed her face as she snored delicately, curled up like a tabby cat. Her face looked pale and exhausted, but relaxed – she had been holding on to the edge of his blanket.
Harry allowed himself to dream for a second – maybe she still loved him? Maybe, just maybe, if he pleaded, she'd take him back?
Ginny stirred, blinking around as she opened her beautiful warm brown eyes. She spotted him staring at her, and smiled.
''Do you want something to eat? Mum has practically made every dish she could think of – she thinks Kreacher hasn't been feeding you properly – Ron said it's more likely you have been avoiding eating altogether.''
Harry nodded, relieved she wasn't accusing him or being cold to him.
Trying to make as little noise as possible, they packed a little of everything – some sandwiches, pieces of chicken roast, mince and kidney pies, and treacle tart. Ginny put it in a hamper and gestured him to come out to the garden.
Harry and Ginny settled down under a birch tree – at least, Harry thought it was birch – he was rubbish at identifying plants. Ginny spread the food out in little paper plates and arranged them on top of the blanket.
Harry needed to say something – the silence was uncomfortable.
''So…err...how are you?''
Ginny cocked one fine red eyebrow at him.
Harry cleared his throat, looking down. ''I am sorry.'' He mumbled, expecting her to get pissed off or something.
She was pissed off.
''What is it that you are apologizing for, exactly?''
''I have been a trouble – I dunno what I was thinking, apparating in at the middle of the night, yelling and making such a fuss – ''
''You know what hurts the most?'' Ginny cut off, and Harry shook his head.
Perhaps she's talking about the breakup.
''That you still don't consider us family.''
Harry looked up, surprised, and was astonished to see her bright brown eyes. They weren't just angry – they betrayed hurt, worry, and a million other feelings all jumbled up.
''Ginny, that's not true- ''
''Oh please – you'd rather suffer alone, cooped up in that house all by yourself, than even write us a letter? You avoided us- avoided me - like the plague, Harry!''
''Ginny – ''
''I'd much rather you just tell me to my face – are you that tired of me? That uncomfortable around me? Ron is your best mate – couldn't you call him for help, even if you don't want to see me?''
''Ginny, none of that is true! I don't – I missed you!''
Harry realized what he just said, and opened and closed his mouth several times, gaping like a fish.
Ginny crossed her arms, looking very pleased with herself. She waited for Harry to continue – prodding him for information would only make him clamp up.
''I…just…felt so terrible! Fred – '' He wrung his hands in anguish, apparently unable to speak more.
''Everyone misses him, Harry, and not a single person blames you. Not Mum, not Dad, or Ron, Charlie, Bill, in fact, I think Percy blames himself – he keeps mumbling he ought to have had the shield up in time –''
''He couldn't have had – it was all so sudden – ''
''Exactly! How is it anyone's fault?''
Harry was quite for a while. He hadn't even noticed when Ginny had slipped her hand into his – he gripped her hand tightly, pondering over what she said.
''It…feels obscene to laugh or be happy, with so many people gone.'' He said quietly, after a while.
''I know it sounds incredibly lame, but life does go on, you know. I think Fred is probably face-palming himself right now – he'd absolutely hate the atmosphere around here. No cheer, no pranks – he'd loathe it.''
Harry half-smiled, remembering the numerous pranks the twins had pulled all through his years at Hogwarts.
''I did miss you, Gin.'' He said, his voice so low Ginny would have completely missed what he said if it weren't for the fact that she was straining her ears to listen to him.
''So, we're good? You weren't avoiding me, then?''
''I was – only a little – I thought you probably hated me-''
''Oh Harry, sometimes I forget how thick you are!'' Ginny rolled her eyes at him, giving him a playful shove.
The conversation flowed smoothly after that – even the silence as they ate was companionable.
Ron swore as he looked around the living room.
''Oi, Hermione, wake up – git has made a run for it again!''
Hermione pushed back her untamable hair and blinked around sleepily. ''Harry? ''
''He's gone!'' Ron let out a very colorful stream of words that made Hermione gasp.
''Are you sure? Maybe he's around somewhere-''
''No, I'm telling you – he's probably moping around in Grimmauld Place, thinking he's turning into a flobberworm – ''
''Not that gullible, mate.''
Ron whirled around, and saw Harry leaning by the backdoor. ''Besides – I don't mop around – that is usually Hermione's department.''
''I'll have you know, you conceited arse, I haven't cried since- since – ''
''Yesterday morning.'' Ron and Harry exclaimed simultaneously, and snickered.
Hermione rolled her eyes, snapping her books shut.
''Well then, you boys can go ahead and have a tearless chat – I have much better things to do.''
Ginny entered the living room, blanket and hamper in hand. '' Where is she storming off to?''
''Ah, no sense of humor, that one.'' Ron replied sagely. ''Probably why she cries so often.''
Harry guffawed.
''Oh stop teasing her, Ron. Remember that time in the stand during the first Triwizard Tournament task? You almost did cry when the Horntail was brought in – 'Oh, why are they doing this to him? Harry can't possibly battle a dragon!' – and then you grabbed Hermione's hand so tight she had a sprain for days!''
Harry laughed out, banging his fist on the table. '' Aww mate, you weren't talking to me but you were still worried?''
''Shut up, Harry. Get stuffed.'' Ron grumbled, good mood gone.
Ginny laughed along with Harry as she started mimicking him during those months when Ron wasn't talking – Harry was plenty amused to hear Ron had apparently hexed Pansy and Goyle when they offered him one of those foul Potter Stinks! badges.
''True – Pansy wore extra makeup to hide her pimple for days!'' Ginny exclaimed.
''I was trying to give her blisters, not pimples.'' Ron clarified, buttering his toast.
''Your wandwork was never that good, you know.'' Harry said, quite enjoying himself.
''You – just you wait till I spill your beans – ''
''Can't you lot shut up for a second?'' George demanded, groggily climbing down the stairs and tripping on the last step, falling face first.
Ron and Ginny howled with laughter, while Harry tensed a bit – he wasn't quite sure how to behave around George.
George gave an indignant huff as he picked himself up and sat down heavily. He poured himself a glass of water and spotted Harry.
''Fancy turning into a pixie, Harry?''
Harry groaned. ''You lot will never let me forget that, will you?'' He said, quite exasperated, as Ron and Ginny howled again.
One by one the Weasleys came downstairs, and Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry tightly the second she saw him, and fretted about how peaky he looked. Harry was embarrassed by her coddling, but it also felt strangely nice and warm.
While everyone tucked into their breakfast – Hermione pointedly ignoring both Harry and Ron – three very important looking owls swooped into the kitchen and landed infront of Harry's plate of sausage.
Harry collected the envelopes from the birds, and they flew away after pecking at his toast.
The first two letters were from Gringotts, and Harry frowned. The third was from Kingsley.
''Go on then, open it up.'' Ron nudged him, leaning in for a better look.
Harry broke the wax seal on Kingsley's envelope, noting the high quality parchment – Hermione usually used those for submitting final essays – and unfolded the letter.
Mr. Harry James Potter,
Owing to your contributions in the war and outstanding achievements in fighting against Dark forces, the Auror Department has agreed to consider you for the Auror Training Program that begins on September 3rd, and will continue for two years. It usually continues for three but circumstances have not permitted us to waste any more time recruiting trainees. Should you choose to accept, please sign the enclosed Acceptance letter and present yourself to the Ministry no later than 25th August.
Waiting for your reply,
Kingsley Shacklebolt,
Interim Minister of Magic.
P.S.: I know you probably want some peace, but please, Harry, do consider the program.
Harry sighed. ''Kingsley wants me to join the Aurors.''
''Course he does- he'd be daft to not.'' Charlie said, mouth full of toast.
Ron thumped him on the back as he choked a bit, then turned back to Harry.
''I got one too. Neville wrote back a few days ago – Susan, Terry, and Ernie MacMillan have been asked as well.''
Harry nodded, looking over to Arthur, who was gazing at the kettle on the counter, apparently deep in thought.
''Err…Mr. Weasley?''
''Say, Harry – how does eklecticity heat a kettle up?'' He said suddenly.
Harry was taken aback. ''I rather think Hermione knows that – something to do with physics, no doubt...''
Hermione nodded. ''I think there's something called a resistor in there, that produces enough heat. ''
Arthur quickly scribbled something on a bit of spare parchment, and tucked it into his robes.
''That cursed kettle is quite troublesome – Perkins was burned last day – you were saying Harry?''
''I …err…got a letter from Kingsley. He wants me to join the Auror Department...''
''Ah…yes – he had been going on about it for a week now. Plenty needs to be done, of course – fancy a stroll, Harry?''
Harry stood up, and followed Mr. Weasley out into the garden. A gnome ran over his feet, giggling madly as Crookshanks chased it around the flowerbed.
''What is bothering you, Harry?'' Mr. Weasley asked kindly as they reached the little green pond.
Harry sighed- he's been doing a lot of that, lately.
''I need to do something – sitting around isn't doing me any good – and I do want to help – so many Death Eaters escaped that day – I just … I don't think this is all I want to do – I dunno if that makes sense.'' He finished, acutely aware he was trying to make a point but unsure how to phrase it.
''Quite understandable, Harry. You have, indeed, done enough – no one would fault you if you went ahead and said you'd like a peaceful life. Being an Auror is hard enough – not because of the fact that you might be dealing with the worst that society has to offer, but also the continuous stress of looking back over your shoulder and wondering if some deranged wizard is trailing you because you sent him to Azkaban three years ago – you only need look at Moody – poor man thought everyone was out there to get him, and not without good reason! You'll be on the frontline of the fire, so to speak.''
Harry shook his head. '' I am not afraid of the danger – I am sure there are several wizards out there who'd jump at the first chance to do me in, I reckon.''
''Right. That, I am afraid, will probably never change.''
''I am just not sure if that's all I want to do.''
''No one said you had to be an Auror for life, Harry. You could quit when you feel like you've had enough – then jump in to the prank business – George would quite welcome you – says you have a wicked sense of humor.''
Harry laughed. He sobered up quite fast, remembering Kingsley's words just a few days after the battle.
''Kingsley had sent another letter to Grimmauld place – said the wizarding world still needed me. He said even if Riddle was gone, there are pieces to be picked up, loose ends to be tied.''
''True. A lot does need to be done. You have an immense potential to bring about a lot of changes- it's the inherent goodness in you, Harry. Dumbledore always had great faith in you – he told the Order that you are our biggest hope. But it's not only the wizarding world that needs you, Harry. Your family needs you too. We all need you to be happy, and safe, and content in whatever you choose to do now.''
Harry ducked his head, incredibly embarrassed and touched.
''You've been through the mills, my boy. Do whatever you feel is good for you- you have no obligation to put the world first. Put yourself first, for once.''
As Arthur watched Harry think about what he had been told, Arthur secretly hoped he gave good guidance.
Harry was so selfless, he needed someone to remind him from time to time that he mattered, too.
Arthur turned his face away to hide his bright eyes.
Ah, he was getting old.
All he kept thinking was the reedy twelve year old sitting in his kitchen table after the twins and Ron had rescued him from his house, so shy and so polite, and now this young man standing infront of him, covered in scars, both physical and mental – still so humble, so selfless.