A/N - chapter reuploaded to fix a very embarrassing mistake...
The next month went on in blessed routine. Harry would spend his days with George and Angelina, dinner with the Weasleys, and his weekends with Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny. After a couple of weeks, they were also joined by Neville.
Neville had taken much the same attitude as Hermione and Ginny had. He didn't approve of Harry's decision, that much was obvious. But even more so than Hermione and Ginny, he refused to criticise him for it.
"It's Harry's choice," he would stubbornly say, and immediately change the subject, saying things like "So when do you think they'll find the Sword of Gryffindor?" or "Have you heard the centaurs have left the Forbidden Forest? No one knows where they are!" or "Cho and Michael broke up again - honestly, Harry, I'm just glad Michael's not training to be an Auror, or it would have been a complete disaster!"
"She's probably depressed," Harry agreed.
"She is - well, it's not like after she split up with you, I guess, she doesn't cry all the time, but she's very quiet."
In a weird way, Harry felt relieved that Cho wasn't crying all the time now - even though he wasn't around her. He loved Ginny, much more than whatever silly crush he'd had for Cho years ago, but he still liked her. She was still a friend.
"I just hope she find something to make her happy," he muttered.
"Yeah, well, Seamus has been spending a lot of time with her lately," Neville said knowingly, and Harry laughed.
"Hey, Neville? Thanks for, you know. Not being mad with me."
"Well I figured if you ended up on our side when you had Voldemort within you all this time, you're unlikely to become a Death Eater now," Neville said, and managed to maintain his serious expression for a moment or two until he burst out laughing - probably at Harry's own expression.
"Oh, come on," he said, rolling his eyes. "No one thinks you're a monster 'cause of it! No one cares!"
"I know, I'd just like it better if people stopped bringing it up," Harry muttered, but Neville just shrugged again.
"Never going to happen, mate. If it's about you, it's interesting, at least until the next big news about you. It's about time you got used to it."
"I don't want to get used to it," Harry said, but Neville shook his head.
"Look, no one cares that you had Voldemort in you, no matter what the Prophet said. But being you is doing you a favour right now. After that speech you gave, and after that piece with Rita Skeeter - well, let's just say that if you were anyone else I don't think you would have got the chance to do it again."
"Yeah, 'cause no one would listen!"
"No, Harry. Because the Ministry would have made sure you didn't get the opportunity."
Harry thought he was overreacting, and said as much - he was the last person, after all, to claim that the Ministry was doing its best to keep everyone's freedoms intact. "But so far they've only been targeting Slytherins. I'm a Gryffindor, they're not going to tell me to shut up!"
"Not tell, no," Neville said in a guarded voice.
Harry paused. "What are you talking about?" he asked quietly.
"I shouldn't say anything."
"You just did. What is it?"
"Let's just say - you know how they always said about Mad-Eye? That's being an Auror made him completely paranoid?"
"Yeah, so?"
"Harry," Neville, who was already speaking quietly, lowered his voice even more, even though there was no one around, "has Moody ever ended up being wrong in his paranoia?"
"Of course," Harry said automatically. "Plenty of times. There was - " he stopped to think of an example, but none came to mind. Thinking about it properly, he couldn't think of one single instance in which Moody's exaggerated security measures hampered them more than helped them.
"Yeah, exactly. And when he was criticising the Ministry, he did so behind the Auror Office's closed doors. They know how to make people shut up when they don't like what they're saying. It won't be the first time. I overheard Robards and Savage last time I was in the Ministry, they're not happy with you, Harry. You're still you, so they can't touch you, not yet, anyway. Just... be careful, alright?"
Harry promised him that he would, but inside, he had so many questions. He meant to ask Arthur some of them that night, as Arthur was high enough in the Ministry - and had years of experience there - and at least he could confirm or deny Neville's story about Moody.
But when Arthur walked in, he gave him something completely different to think about.
"You would not believe what a day I've had! They moved half my department to work with Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"
"Why? Do they think Grindylows stole the Sword of Gryffindor?" George joked.
"That would have been even worse," he sighed. "The goblins want it badly. That's half of the problem."
"The goblins? They're not still on about that, are they?"
"They're goblins, George, they're always 'on about that'. They think the Sword was theirs to begin with, and now that it's disappeared, they blame us. Say it's their legacy and that the wizards are hiding it from them so they won't have to give it back. Of course, they do have a point - no wizard would want to give it back to them, it's too important. Not to mention all the extra powers it's rumoured to have now."
"Extra powers?" Harry had forgotten all about his questions, and looked in interest at Arthur. "What extra powers?"
"Well, you know how each of the Founders of Hogwarts had their own special artefact? Well, of course, you know, you were the one to - anyway, each one of these artefacts had special powers, right? Well, rumour has it those special powers didn't just disappear with the destruction of the artefacts."
"So you're saying, when we destroyed the Horcruxes - "
"Their powers went to the one artefact that was similar to them, but still intact and undefiled."
"The Sword of Gryffindor," said Harry, and Arthur nodded. "Is that even possible?"
"We don't know. It might be - the Ministry started hiring wizards to do research on the subject. A couple of years ago we'd have simply asked Dumbledore, but now... who knows? Which reminds me - Percy, I think the Ministry will hire you for this research, if you applied," Arthur said carefully to his son.
Percy, who had remained quiet throughout the conversation, looked up for the first time. "I don't think I would," he said in a measured voice. "Ollivander offered me a job. He says he's getting too old to take care of his shop alone."
"He hasn't been himself ever since he was imprisoned by Voldemort," Arthur agreed.
"So he said, if I wanted to help, he'll be happy to teach me about wands."
Arthur and Molly exchanged a look.
"It's not that I don't think it's a good idea, Percy," Arthur said slowly, "but ever since you were a boy, all you've ever wanted was to be in the Ministry, don't you remember? 'I'll be Dad's boss'," Arthur chuckled. "How old were you, nine?"
Percy didn't smile. "I doubt this is going to happen," he said, with just a small note of bitterness in his voice. "Things just didn't turn out this way. Besides, I was nine. Who knows what they're going to be when they're that age, anyway."
Arthur didn't bring up the subject again, and neither did any of the others.
Percy started at Ollivander's the very next day. It was almost as if that offer from Arthur, that his dream may not be gone after all, that had pushed him to give it up altogether. Percy had always been Harry's least favourite Weasley, and despite forgiving him for everything that had happened in the last couple of years, Harry couldn't quite forget how easily Percy turned against him. But there was something similar with the two of them now, he reflected, as Percy had given up his dream of being one day the Minister for Magic, and Harry had given up his own dream of becoming an Auror. And as he had seen more and more of Percy - now that they were both working in neighbouring shops and meeting up for lunch as well as dinner - he started to realise that the pompous, self-assured young man had changed quite a bit, at some point when Harry was too busy to notice.
Most of the time, Percy acted as if nothing had ever happened. He wasn't pompous towards Harry anymore, but simply friendly. He was friendly when they met around on Diagon Alley, he was joking a bit - if still serious most of the time - while they had lunch together with George and Angelina, and he kept on treating him just like anyone else in the family at dinner.
Only once did Percy ever mention that they weren't always on the same side. It was about a week after he started working for Ollivander - they were having lunch in the back room at George's shop when all of a sudden something crashed in the main area and George and Angelina rushed to help the small witch who was at the counter at the time.
Harry kept on chewing his sandwich, but stopped when he realised Percy wasn't really eating, but was instead staring at him.
"Everything alright, Perce?" he asked.
Percy started nodding, but then thought better of that. "Do you agree with the Ministry? Do you think I should have been fired?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't really think they should have fired anyone but the Death Eaters," he mumbled, "but I don't know."
"It was kind of obvious to see the change the Ministry went through," Percy stated. Harry didn't bother replying. "You had to be completely blind to think that one day, the Ministry is all about protecting Muggle-borns and helping them, then the next day, it's all about kicking Muggle-borns out of society and going after them, and that there's no change involved. I mean, one position was a clearly against You-Know-Who, and the other... wasn't."
"But you didn't know." Harry said sharply. For all of Percy's obnoxious behaviour and arrogance, he wasn't a - a Death Eater.
"I didn't want to know," Percy pointed out.
Harry had nothing to say about that.
"I, uh, well... I'm sorry."
"You've already apologised last May," Harry reminded him. He really didn't want to have this conversation with Percy. He didn't need to hear that he was right and Percy was wrong, he knew that already. There was nothing joyous or comfortable in hearing Percy Weasley apologising.
"That was to my family. Not to you. I'm sorry," said Percy again, slightly louder this time, his face turning a darker shade of red.
"You really - it's okay. Really. You don't need to apologise."
"Yeah, I do." Percy looked directly at Harry now, not allowing Harry to divert his gaze. "I'm sorry, Harry."
Harry nodded. "Thanks," he said, and luckily, at that very moment, George and Angelina came back and the conversation moved to more comfortable topics.
'More comfortable topics' turned out to be George's new candy: chocolate replicates of the Sword of Gryffindor - that kept on threatening to eat the eater. Harry stared at George with admiration mixed with horror.
"Are you sure this is the best new product you can come up with?" he asked with trepidation.
George just laughed. "Fred always said we should try competing a bit with Honeydukes," he said. "And I always felt that new products should be topical." He shrugged. "Everyone's talking about the Sword these days, so I figured, why not?"
Harry couldn't help but join in with George's laughter, as short as it might have been. It's been a while since he had heard him laugh - and it was a good sound to hear.
"Well, as long as the goblins don't start demonstrating in front of the shop," Angelina pointed out. "I can see them now, pointing to this as another way in which the wizards make fun of their traditions or something. As if the Sword is really theirs," she added, impatiently.
Angelina's joke turned out not too far from the truth. The goblins didn't start demonstrating in front of George's shop, but when Harry came in to deposit that week's profits into the shop's safe, he was given a very cold treatment by the Gringotts goblins.
"What do you want?" snapped the goblin in front of him.
"I've got - I've got some money to deposit?" Harry half-said, half-asked.
"From selling chocolate swords?" the goblin narrowed his eyes at Harry.
"Gorkind!" another goblin, older and looking much more menacing, called towards the goblin from a different counter. Gorkind turned quiet immediately, and they performed the rest of the transaction in relative silence - although Harry was sure the goblin was muttering under his breath.
As he was leaving Gringotts, he saw four or five goblins huddled around Gorkind, including the goblin who had silenced him earlier. They started talking furiously, each one raising his eyes every few seconds to stare at Harry. It didn't take Harry more than a minute to leave the wizard bank, but he still felt very uncomfortable the whole time.
The experience did bring questions to his mind. That night at dinner, he asked Bill what would happen if the goblins started another uprising, like all of those he had learned about - or was supposed to, anyway, as he never remembered any of it - in History of Magic.
"I mean," he tried to explain himself, "they've got access to everyone's gold."
"Don't worry about it," said a thoroughly unconcerned Bill as he took a second helping of potatoes and peas. "The goblins would never steal wizards' gold, even if there's another war. They would consider it the height of dishonour."
"Is there going to be another war? They seem pretty angry about the Sword of Gryffindor."
Bill sighed. "They have all heard how Griphook got it by now. It's saved him from being a complete outcast, and that says something."
Harry's hand stayed in the air, between his plate and his mouth. "Why would Griphook be an outcast?"
"Well, he did help you guys break into Gringotts, didn't he? Like I said - stealing is the height of dishonour. A goblin can cheat, lie, even murder - but stealing? Never. They wouldn't let Griphook anywhere near Gringotts these days. Not that he's starving, mind," Bill added after seeing Harry's expression. "They're making sure he's got more than enough money. They consider him a hero."
"So he's a hero for getting back the Sword, but dishonoured because he had to steal in order to get it? Don't they ever make up their minds?"
"Goblins are complicated," Bill replied, and Harry remembered his forgotten fork and took another bite.
"Anyway, Harry, I don't think there's going to be another war. This isn't like the old rebellions - it's not in their best interest to start a war now. Sure, there are some hot heads who are clinging to the matter of the sword, hoping it would start a new war, but most of the goblins are comfortable with the present situation. They'll grumble and get angry and every time someone like George baits them a bit more they'll be even more unpleasant, but I shouldn't worry too much."
Bill chewed his steak for a moment or two. "Actually, if I were you, I'd have bigger things to worry about."
Harry sighed. He knew what Bill was talking about - the Ministry and the Prophet, of course. "They can write whatever they want," he said, trying to pretend he didn't care, and making sure to ignore the Ministry's part of the equation. "They're going to get nothing out of it, so who cares?"
"Don't be so sure," Arthur said quietly. "Remember what happened with Auror training?"
"Well, right now I'm not applying for anything Ministry related," Harry said stubbornly, "so it's not the same thing at all."
But the Prophet knew they could still fill in pages and pages by writing about him, and so, they didn't seem very keen on giving up their new pet stories concerning Harry. A week after that conversation, they had published a new article on the possible influences of the Killing Curse on the human brain, a new article on the effect of childhood traumas on adolescents, and an interview with Will Jones in which the politician kept on saying how it wasn't Harry's fault at all that he had a piece of Voldemort within him.
"No one said it was my fault before," Harry complained in a Hogwarts dinner to a sympathetic Neville, who managed to be completely supportive but still give him a look that seemed suspiciously similar to his I-Told-You-So look. Harry started to realise it would take an exceptional event to divert the Prophet's attention from him and unto other, unrelated topics.
-X-
Christmas was coming. It was impossible to tell from the weather, as London had remained decidedly rainy and foggy during the entire month of December, refusing to shed even one white flake on its disappointed citizenry. Some people at the Ministry joked that perhaps they should magic snow, at least for Diagon Alley, to get people more into the spirit of festivities. The idea, of course, was quickly shot down after a scathing article in the Prophet that complained about the government spendings. "We are wizards, we don't need to spend money on snow," the indignant response came, but in the end, there was no snow - artificial or natural - in Diagon Alley that December.
The lack of snow did not make it any less cold. People huddled in their homes, in front of the fireplace - or other heating facilities, where available - drinking hot cocoa and waiting for the rain to stop. In Diagon Alley, people rushed from one shop to the next, doing their best to spend the minimal amount of time outside in the unending rain.
Considering that, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was surprisingly full. The students of Hogwarts were back home for the holiday, and quick to test all of George's new products - from self replicating hats ("You might lose your head but you'll always have something to put on it!"), through the new collection of fake wands ("turning into ducks, rabbits, and armadillos as well as the classic chickens and mice!"), to the chocolate swords, which turned out to be extremely popular. Not that the old classics were forgotten - George continued to sell copious amounts of Headless Hats, Edible Dark Marks, and Pygmy Puffs.
"We need another box of edible Dark Marks," Angelina sighed as she poured herself a cup of tea. "I think people like the taste. I thought they'd surely go out of fashion now that You-Know-Who's gone, but there you go."
But Harry wasn't as surprised as Angelina at the popularity of the Dark Marks. "Don't forget, people couldn't really enjoy them last year," he reminded her. Voldemort wasn't old news. It would be a while before that happened. "I guess people are just happy that it's safe again to laugh at him," he said. "And if you ask me, the more the better. People should be laughing at him, rather than still afraid of him."
She ignored the implied critique in his voice about her choice of word to name the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and any bloody epithet she chose instead of his proper one, Lord Voldemort.
"Oh, and we're going to need another box of fake wands. The armadillo ones, the kids love them."
"Sure. How did George come up with armadillos, anyway?" Harry wondered aloud, and Angelina chuckled in response.
"I know, right? I don't think even Fred would have been able to come with such a random animal, but they actually work."
"Probably because they're so weird," Harry mused.
"Yeah, that's what George figured out when he thought about it - you should have seen it! We were..." she hesitated for a moment. "Anyway, we were talking about something else entirely, and all of a sudden he says 'Armadillos!'." She laughed.
"And what did you say?"
"What d'you think? 'Where?' I thought we were about to be attacked by a rabid pack of armadillos."
Harry laughed as well.
"That's what's so fun about this job, you know? The mad stuff George keep on coming up with, even if most of it never happens. Like now - last night I saw him trying to make those self-digging shovels work for the thousandth time, it's never going to work, but it's so much fun just watching him try."
"Is that why you're staying here?" he asked her, and she flushed. "It's just that I know the Hollyhead Harpies asked you to join in as a reserve, George mentioned it, he was surprised you didn't take them up on the offer..." his voice trailed, as Angelina became more and more flushed.
"Yeah, no, I'd have taken it if it was an actual spot, but I don't feel like sitting on the bench game after game. And it is fun here, and then there's..." she didn't finish the sentence as well.
There was a second of awkward silence between them, but then it was broken by the best of distractions - good friends. The shop's back room was suddenly lit up when all the people Harry loved the most in the world walked in - Hermione and Ginny, who came back from Hogwarts for the holidays, and Ron and Neville, who had a similar break from their Auror training. Their little gang was almost complete, if it wasn't for Luna's absence, as she had gone with her father to hunt rare Ice Kiipis in the lakes of Finland.
"How are they're going to find creatures in a lake when the lakes are frozen?" Ron asked for the fourth or fifth time.
"Ron, Xenophilius Lovegood has gone to find some of his creatures and the only reason it bothers you is because it'sthewrongseasonforthem?" Hermione said, amused.
"You know, one day they're actually going to find one of these creatures," Harry said, and they all looked at each other for a moment before saying together - "Nah!".
"The day this will happen will be the day Luna Lovegood teaches Care of Magical Creatures," Hermione said.
"Hey, it can't possibly be as bad as a whole year of Blast-Ended Skrewts," Ron pointed out. He seemed to be amused by the idea of Luna Lovegood, the Care For Magical Creatures Professor.
"I don't know, Ron, would you like to spend a whole year trying to find a Nargle?"
"It could be a good exercise!"
"Yeah, 'cause climbing seven flights of stairs only to get to the nearest toilet isn't..."
"What? When was that?"
"Where was that?"
And so, Neville found himself retelling the story of how he could never find the toilets on the third floor - "they were always moving around! It wasn't my fault!" - and had to climb all the way to the seventh floor because that area of the Hogwarts Castle didn't have any flights of stairs leading to the fifth floor.
"This," Ron surmised when Neville stopped talking, "could only ever happen to you."
"No," Neville said proudly. "Seamus climbed up all the way to Gryffindor Tower every time he wanted to go to the loo for our entire first year. He didn't even know there were other toilets in the castle!"
Their laughter was so loud that George had to show up and ask them to keep it down a bit. "I think they hear you guys all the way to Ollivander's," he said, and they promised to be quieter.
"How is Seamus, anyway?" Harry asked. He didn't have the chance to talk to him since he had left the Auror training. From the way Ron and Neville exchanged looks, he could only assume the absence of owls wasn't by accident. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"
"Well," Ron said with a fake cheer, "he got decorated."
"Really? How come?"
"It was an accident, really," Neville said quickly, but didn't continue.
"Accident he got decorated? What, did they fall and pin a medal on his chest by mistake?" Ginny said sarcastically.
"No. He, uh - well, you know who Selwyn is, right?"
"He's a Death Eater, isn't he?" Ginny asked. "He's all over the posters, I think he's on the top of the wanted list of the Ministry?"
"Yeah. He's the one who locked up Will Jones, he got his wife killed."
"Yeah, I remember," Harry said.
"Yeah, well, so obviously, that was enough to make him one of the Ministry's most wanted. But then we got information that he's the one leading the Death Eaters, he's in charge of the attacks."
"Bet Will Jones loved that," Hermione said quietly.
"Exactly. Anyway, about a week after you quit, Harry, the Auror Office gets information about him, so everyone goes looking for him, right? And I mean everyone. Even Savage. He shows up, all running and stuff, drops us in the middle of this town in the middle of nowhere, says that they think there's Death Eaters there but there's no one to check it so would we please find and arrest the Death Eaters, and Disapparates to join everyone else hunting for Selwyn."
"What?" Harry stared at Ron. "That's completely ridiculous."
"I know! We were all nervous, really nervous. Lee started thinking it was some kind of a test." He shuddered. "It's lucky it wasn't. Seamus would have probably followed you if it was."
"Why, what happened?"
"Well, you remember how nervous he gets when we go after Death Eaters."
"Yeah." Harry remembered. He remembered Seamus casting the Killing Curse on and on in the forest, the last to stop. "I remember."
"Yeah, well, we found the Death Eaters. They were there, just like Savage said. And Seamus panicked. He blew up a whole house by accident."
Ron stopped talking, and Neville picked up from there. "He was so shaken - he was so pale afterwards. And he kept on repeating Lee's words, what if it's a test, what if he killed all those people. And then, obviously, because of the explosion, the rest of the Aurors started showing up. And the Minister for Magic, too. And they started shouting at each other, he was shouting at Savage for ages, that he was being irresponsible and that he should never have left us alone, and that it's all his fault, and then Robards tried calming him down and he started shouting at Robards - "
" - And then, you wouldn't believe it, Robards said something like 'They were just Death Eaters' and Kingsley really lost it." Ron interfered, and gave Harry a knowing look. Harry, of course, had shared with him his last conversation with Kingsley - they both realised what was really going on there.
Neville shuddered. "Yeah, it was pretty awful. And all that time Seamus is just watching them and getting more and more pale. I thought he'd lose it too. We tried to calm him down, tell him that Kingsley's blaming Savage, so no one's going to blame him, and that we shouldn't have been left to do it alone in the first place, but he wouldn't calm down."
"Anyway," Ron continued the story, "that night Anthony was listening to that Death Eater Watch programme, I'm telling you, it's like he's completely obsessed with it, Merlin knows why, and they were practically gloating about it all, and Seamus and Anthony got into a real fight over this, I had to cast a Shield Charm between the two of them to prevent them from destroying the dormitories, and Neville threatened to use the full Body Bind Curse if they didn't stop. Then in the morning Seamus was better, but then he read that interview you gave to the Rita Skeeter about Rowle, and started having a go at you. So me and Neville told him to shut up. And then Robards showed up and said they were going to give him another Order of Merlin second class for killing those Death Eaters, you know, because the official story is how there was a fight and all that, and he'd been bragging about it ever since, as long as no one reminds him that these could just as well have been innocent people."
"They decorated him for the benefit of the official story?" Harry said angrily.
"Won't be the first time, that's what Savage said. That it's not like it's the first time this has happened. But I don't think it was the only reason, I mean, he was really upset that day, they must have noticed."
"They probably realised that their approval would make him feel better," Hermione said shortly, and Ron nodded.
"Yeah, something like that. Telling him he did alright, so he'd stop beating himself over it. Well, it worked, anyway. If I were you, Harry, I wouldn't drop by his house anytime soon. He was really angry with that interview."
"It's completely ridiculous," Harry protested.
"Maybe," Ron said darkly, "but you didn't hear him when he read the Prophet that day. You didn't make any friends with that interview, I'll tell you that."
He turned out to be right, of course. The package of various Weasley products Harry sent Seamus as a Christmas present was returned unopened. And he wasn't the only one. Some of these were more subtle than others - Anthony Goldstein, for example, sent Harry a Christmas card that simply said "I still think you're completely mad. But happy Christmas". But Lavender didn't return a Christmas card at all, and neither did Katie. A small part of him wished Cho would have been angry with him as well, as Ginny was not very happy with the large box of Honeydukes chocolate he had received from her, but he was mostly glad she wasn't angry with him, too. And besides, Ginny's annoyance was momentary - when Harry pulled it out as another dessert after Mrs Weasley's wonderful Christmas dinner, she had happily ate of the chocolates with the rest of them.
"You're not angry, are you?" he asked her quietly, just to make sure.
"Of course not," she said, then paused for a moment. "Oh, Harry, you're just... so naive. Cho never really got over you, you know."
"I don't know. She seemed quite happy with Michael. I like her - I want her to be happy with someone, you know. Like I am with you." The kiss he gave her could have sealed the discussion, if it weren't for Ron's words from what had to be three years before that came into his mind, of how snogging should have cheered Cho up. He started giggling into the kiss, and had to break it off before laughter took over him.
Ginny looked at her boyfriend, confused. "I'm going to assume I shouldn't be insulted," she said after a moment, with a spark of amusement in her eye.
"Yeah," he said, trying to control his laughter. "No, I mean - this is all Ron's fault!"
"Oh, great, just what I needed, you bringing up my brother when I'm trying to snog you. I can think of better things to think about," she said and advanced towards him - and then had to stop because of a new giggle fit.
"I - uh - think I need a glass of water," Harry said.
"Sure - bring me another one of those chocolates, will you?"
He went down to the kitchen still chuckling, Ginny's smiling face still on his mind. He was happy - the first time he was really happy in quite a while. It shouldn't have been like that, he thought for a moment, the joy giving away to sadness. Voldemort was gone, he should be happy all the time now, doing what he enjoyed doing. But everything'd become so complicated, and in some ways, even more complicated than it was before. Only with Ginny was he truly happy, he thought. With Ginny, with Ron, with Hermione. Perhaps he should have gone back to Hogwarts, to spend more time with the people he loved most, wait a bit before becoming a responsible adult again. But it was too late for that, he sighed, and tried to get those thoughts out of his mind, to think again of Ginny, who was waiting upstairs for her chocolate. He picked up the best one he could find, and tiptoed back upstairs.
He got slightly distracted on the way up - George's room door was half-open, and from the hallway he could see George and Angelina kissing. About time, too, he thought, but then George opened his eyes and looks straight at him, and he could feel his cheeks growing red and continued upstair, to Ginny.
The next day, they all went to Diagon Alley. The shop was to be open half a day and George needed Harry around, while the rest of the family went on to do some last-minute shopping.
Harry was deep into cataloguing fake wands when George walked into the room.
"Hey, Harry, how's it going?" he asked.
"Looks good, I think you better make another order of those fake wands."
"Listen, can I have a word?"
"Sure," Harry mumbled, trying not to lose count of the wands.
"It's about last night," George said, and Harry gave up all notion of counting the wands. Instead, he gave George a big smile.
"I think it's brilliant," he said, "you and Angelina."
"Yeah, about that... Listen, I was wondering if I could ask you a favour... please don't tell anyone."
George wasn't smiling back at Harry. In fact, he looked quite miserable.
"What's going on?" Harry asked.
"It's a bit hard to explain."
"Don't you like her?"
"I do - I've done for a long time, you know? Still at Hogwarts. Fred was also crazy about her. And then they were dating on and off for a while, and... well," he sniffed. "You know. He got there first, I mean, I never minded, but Angelina cared a lot about him and now... I don't know, Harry," he sighed.
"Don't be thick. You'd have to be blind not to see how the two of you have been the past months. She's not with you because of Fred."
"I just don't know where it's going. So just - you know, don't say anything. If Mum even starts suspecting - "
" - you'll never hear the end of it," Harry completed the sentence for him, and George smiled, and for a moment, he looked so much like himself.
"Now get back counting those wands!"
"You're really bad at this boss thing," Harry observed, and George shrugged.
Harry shook his head and went back to counting. As the last day before the holidays, it was turning out to be much more interesting than he had expected.
And then the explosions started.
Harry jumped at the first one, wand in hand. A second one could be heard - closer to the shop.
"George!" he shouted, and his boss showed up, wand in hand.
"It's coming from the street," George said in a strained voice, and they both left the shop - and whatever costumers were there - and rushed into the street. The entire Weasley family were outside there, finishing up on their Christmas shopping. From George's pale face, he could see he was thinking the exact same thing.
People were running down the street, screaming. Another explosion could be heard, near Scribbulus Writing Implements, and getting closer all the time. Harry ran against the stream of running people. He didn't even stop to wonder at how, for once, no one was paying attention to him. Some even pushed him aside, trying to get as fast as possible to the far side of the street. But both he and George continually progressed up the street, towards the explosions.
For a moment, Harry thought he could see red hair ahead, between the crowd. "Ginny!" he shouted, but if it really was Ginny, she couldn't hear him. He started running in earnest, not noticing the explosions had stopped.
Away from the people, in front of Madam Malkin's robe shop, Ron was lying on the ground, his wand several feet away. "Ron!" Harry called and rushed to check on his friend, but Ron just muttered "Ginny," and signalled Harry to go on.
His heart beating fast, fear taking over him, Harry rushed further. Not Ginny, he thought, they can't have done anything to Ginny. For a moment, the hatred filled him - hatred for the Death Eaters, who came to destroy Christmas, to destroy his time with Ginny, who now threatened her; hatred for all of those who helped them; even anger at himself, how stupid he'd been, how he had let his stubbornness blind him, and now Ginny was in danger, and if anything happened to her -
But as he turned around, Gringotts bank appeared before him, and in front of it an unlikely sight. Ginny was indeed there, but she was alright. In fact, Ginny and Hermione were casting Shield Charms, preventing a group of goblins from getting close to a centaur, who was lying on his back in the middle of the street.
Relief engulfed Harry as he rushed towards the two. "Is everything alright?" he asked urgently, and Hermione nodded, casting another Shield Charm to stop a new excursion by the goblins - the tallest one tried running towards the centaur again. Only now, when he relaxed, Harry could scan the scene properly, see the angry faces on the goblins' faces, the blood on the centaur.
"What happened?" he asked.
"A goblin started attacking him in the street," Ginny said shortly. "We couldn't let that happen, could we? So I cast a Shield Charm, just to separate them, and all of a sudden five more goblins came at us, out of nowhere - will you stop that!" she said angrily.
The goblin, tired of the magic used against him, crossed his arms and stared at Ginny in disgust.
"What happened to Ron?"
"Oh," Hermione giggled. "He, um, fell."
Ginny giggled as well.
"Oh, we shouldn't laugh, it was pretty awful, it looked like everyone was running him over!" Hermione said, sounding slightly guilty. "But he turned out to be alright, just with some nasty bruises. I don't even think anything's broken."
"Will you stop doing that?" snarled one of the goblins at her.
"If you stop attacking that centaur, yes," Hermione said pleasantly.
"Our matter with the centaur is none of your business, witch," spat another goblin.
"It is when you're attacking him in broad daylight in the middle of Diagon Alley," Ginny pointed out, and the goblin snorted.
"Wizards!" he said.
"Look, we're not going to let you kill him. My Dad is going to show up any minute with Ministry officials and healers from St Mungo's, so really, the best thing for you is not to be here when he arrives," Ginny pointed out to the goblins.
They eyed her angrily, and then talked between themselves in the sharp, short tones of Gobbledegook. After a short argument - or perhaps a pleasant discussion, for all Harry knew - they threw Ginny and Hermione a dirty look, and started walking back into Gringotts.
"We can't let them just go in," Harry said. "No one will be able to catch them!"
"There are hundreds of goblins there, Harry, I don't really think we can stop them. Let the Ministry deal with them."
Harry nodded and went to check on the centaur. His body was covered in light brown hair, and a similar beard covered his face, but now they were both mangled in blood. He had opened his eyes then, looking back at Harry with eyes that were kind, but also tired - and frightened.
"Harry Potter," the centaur muttered.
"It's okay, save your strength," Harry said. "The healers will be here in no time."
The centaur nodded weakly.
Ginny and Hermione joined Harry near the centaur. "Where do you come from?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Hermione, he's bleeding badly. Don't you think we should wait with this until he gets some treatment?"
"He's one of the centaurs who lived in the Forbidden Forest, Harry," she whispered in reply. "I've seen him around."
"Still, it can wait," he answered.
"Don't you know any charms to heal him?" Harry asked, as the blood kept on pouring from the gashes on the centaur's body, staining his brown coat. His face became paler and paler by the second. "Hold on," Harry whispered to the centaur, and looked at Hermione.
"Anything"? he asked, but she shook her head.
"They're all just for humans," she said. "I don't know how to heal centaurs."
"Well, let's hope the healers of St Mungo's do," Ginny said darkly.
They kept on looking at the centaur helplessly, while the minutes ticked away. His eyes were closed, his breath shallow. If the healers did not get there soon, Harry realised, they would not be able to save him, even if they could. Hermione realised it too. Despite her professed lack of knowledge on the subject, she started passing her wand above the centaur's wounds, whispering incantations. But it didn't seem to work. Blood still flowed freely onto the centaur's body and down to the pavement.
Around them, people started walking back into the street. With the danger over, the unexplained chase stopped, the fear had left those late Christmas shoppers, and they came out again to look at the source of the disturbance before returning to their shopping. He even recognised some of them. Here was Professor Trelawney, who had rushed into Gringotts at the first sign of trouble; Romilda Vane, with a bag full of Weasley products, her face pale; and Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin girl from his year, muttering about how people were living and working there and how the stupid goblins were making a nuisance of themselves before storming back into one of the houses above the shops. And there were more, many more that he did not know, and they all stared at the scene. Some were curious, some were still afraid, some were angry - angry that goblins and centaurs were fighting in the middle of the street, angry that their kids now saw a centaur bleeding to death on the pavement, angry that there was no Ministry official around to stop them.
"Here he is!" a small witch called at the sight of Robards. "What do you call this?" she pointed at the bleeding centaur. "In the middle of the street! In broad daylight! What is the Auror Office going to do about it?"
"Nothing," Robards said calmly.
"What?" the witch almost exploded.
"I understand from Mr Weasley here the attackers were goblins?" he asked around, and Ginny nodded. "Well, then, this goes under the jurisdiction of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," he said dryly.
"They were fighting! Right here! Look at the cuts on that centaur, it could have been a wizard!"
"But it wasn't, Mrs James," Robards answered pleasantly. "Now, if you allow me to continue my own shopping, Henderson here will be happy to answer all of your questions, seeing as this actually falls under his jurisdiction." And before Mrs James could reply, Robards was gone, without giving a second glance to the centaur - or to Harry. Henderson, on the other hand, started walking towards Harry, but Mrs James cornered him with a list of demands.
"Mr Henderson!" Harry called at last, despairing of the Ministry official being able to fend Mrs James on his own. "He's really not doing well!"
"What? Oh, right! Mrs James, I must - " Henderson muttered and knelt next to Harry.
"Is there anything you can do for him?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Where are the healers?" Hermione asked, her voice just as anxious.
"Well, they should be here," Henderson said, almost embarrassed.
It took the mediwizards another 15 minutes to arrive, and when they did, it didn't seem as if they knew what to do for the centaur, either. Harry tried to offer his help, but was told in a snappish tone that it was not needed and that he should let them do their job, so he nodded and simply asked them to notify him on the fate of the centaur - even though he could see from his face it was probably a lost cause.
They walked back to find Ron. Some of the people in the street helped him up, and despite an ugly gash in his trousers and a little bleeding, he looked fine, and could already stand on his foot, if a little unsurely. They didn't remain long in Diagon Alley afterwards - it was getting late, and Molly was waiting for all of them at the Burrow, with her wonderful Christmas dinner.
There wasn't a lot of festive air in the room during dinner. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were mostly quiet. The Grangers mainly engaged Molly, while Arthur was sitting in silence next to Andromeda Tonks. Just when they thought the dinner couldn't be any quieter, an owl arrived from St Mungo's, informing Harry that the centaur had died. He did not regain consciousness at all.
It was only after dinner that Harry thought of something else - with the death of the centaur, they had no idea what went on in the street, what happened between the centaur and the goblins of Gringotts.
"D'you reckon something's up with the goblins?" he asked Ron quietly. "Remember that day when we found them all secretive at that house? And now this?"
"Yeah, and with the centaurs of Hogwarts leaving..." Ron said thoughtfully.
"They're really gone?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, I overheard a couple of the Aurors talking about it. So far, no one's doing anything about it, because there just aren't enough people to worry about the centaurs - and I reckon they're allowed to go wherever they please, you know? They just never wanted to leave their forest until now. But a centaur in Diagon Alley is weird."
"And goblins fighting with centaurs is weird. I'd like to know what that's all about," Harry sighed.
Ron was already asleep, full of the wonderful Christmas dinner. Harry decided to do the same. He'll worry about goblins and centaurs later.