Chapter 3. Welcome home, Harry.
A/N: This is one of my favourite chapters. Wars are always terrible, but the aftermaths of them can be even worse. My headcanon about the post war situation never included a Harry rolling in Galleons, handing out first range brooms as birthday presents, or living in a great mansion. These characters are still trying to rebuild something that resembles a normal life and struggling to do so. But sometimes all you need is to be with someone you love (and a tin of broom polish can help ;-) )
2003
"That was a long night," commented Ginny.
The two of them were back in bed, sitting comfortably against the pillows. "It was," agreed Harry. "Which was a small miracle in itself, given our history of epic interruptions. Heck, Ron and George have even made a sport of keeping us apart!" he chuckled.
Ginny snorted. "Oh, that wasn't a miracle. Didn't I tell you? At two different times of that night, both Hermione and my mother went down the dormitories' staircases looking for us. They saw us talking and put charms at the foot of the stairs so nobody could disturb us, then they went up again. They thought we deserved to be alone and sort things between us."
Harry's affection for Hermione and Molly rose several points. "Remind me to get them something extra nice for Christmas this year, from both of us."
Ginny giggled. "Already taken care of," and she dissolved in laughter again.
Harry sighed. This was getting ridiculous. "Did you swallow some kind of cheering potion earlier? What's up with you giggling today? Look, I know you've had a rough season and I reckon you were fairly depressed when it ended. If… if you're taking potions to treat it, why aren't you telling me? Perking you up is part of my job description as a husband." He winked at her.
If anything, this made Ginny laugh louder. At last, she managed to say: "Oh, Potter, you were only correct on one account. There's nothing wrong with my moods and I'm not taking cheering potions. But don't worry, you are fulfilling your job description perfectly."
"You are driving me mad", said Harry.
"Your patience will be rewarded. Now, why don't you keep on telling me stories?"
"What am I, Scheherazade?" As Ginny only smiled and nodded, he gave up. "Oh, well. Next time you had that look…"
August 11th, 1998"Harry? Harry, wake up!"
Harry was roused from his nightmare by two hands shaking his shoulders. He was sweating, disoriented, his heart was pounding, and it took him a while to recognize the surroundings, and remember why he was there and with who.
Ginny was looking at him full of concern. "Are you ok? You scared me, you were thrashing and suddenly you yelled."
Harry did not answer immediately. He gazed at the sky, squinting at the sun. It was mid afternoon, and they were under the trees at the far side of the Burrow. He shrugged.
"I'm fine."
"No, you are not. Do not dare to use the word 'fine' again with me when it's clear that you're not. Want to try again?" Ginny's voice was severe.
Harry gaped at her. "You're not one to beat around the bush, are you?"
He sat up on the blanket, recalling why he had fallen asleep under the trees in the middle of the day. Molly had enrolled Harry on a mission that consisted in keeping Ginny apart from the Burrow so she could prepare the party. Good moments had been scarce that summer so far, what with the grief and the task of rebuilding something that resembled normalcy. So Molly was determined to throw the big birthday party she thought her daughter deserved on her coming of age, as a sign that life went on.
But life did not go well. A few scattered Death Eaters remained at large, and every now and then they attacked random targets. They had been living under the Fidelius at Muriel's until just a week ago, after the month they spent at Hogwarts, helping to recondition the castle. The Burrow had not been deemed safe enough to return until then. Grimmauld Place was out of question. Too much work was needed there and nobody could be spared to do it. He had asked Kreacher to help Andromeda instead. The elf had steadily refused to be freed so Harry had suggested it, a little sceptically at first. To everyone's surprise, the arrangement was working out fairly well. Kreacher had been delighted of taking care of a Black descendant and if Teddy's smuggle, blood traitor and werewolf inheritance bothered him, he simply did not show it.
As Harry had feared, the goblins did not take well the breaking into Gringotts. He, Ron and Hermione were banned from the bank, and his vault was now withheld as bail. Neither Hermione or Ron were affected by this, the former because she had all his savings in Muggle money and the latter because he did not have a vault of his own to begin with, but Harry was effectively left as poor as a church mouse. Bill and Fleur, who had returned to work at the bank, had tried to negotiate with the goblins, with little success. They convinced them to stop pressing charges against Harry, Hermione and Ron -the wizarding society would have been in uproar if their heroes were treated as criminals-, but until compensations for repairs were sorted, none of them could set a foot inside Gringotts.
Kingsley had offered to intermediate, too, but they had refused. He had enough on his plate. The Aurors' numbers were greatly depleted after the war, so he had been forced to run the office personally, in addition to his Minister duties. Members of the Order of Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army had volunteered to help tracking down Death Eaters, and some of them proved themselves so good that they were offered positions as trainees, overlooking the lack of qualifications, which they could not have got anyway, due to the absence of a normal school year and exams.
That was the ultimate reason Harry was waking from a nightmare in broad daylight. He, Neville and Ron had spent the last two days on a stakeout at Upper Flagley, where rumours located a possible refuge for Nott and two accomplices. They had come out of it empty handed, physically tired and emotionally exhausted, because they had had to fight a group of DE mentors that lurked on a nearby forest. Kingsley had ordered the three trainees and Savage, the Auror in charge, to go home on a well-deserved three days' break. Which suited Harry perfectly. He had not been able to see Ginny as much as he wanted and he missed her a lot. On the rare occasions they managed to be alone, it felt like being in an oasis amidst chaos.
"You haven't slept this bad in a while, Harry," she said.
"I know." There was a permanent stock of Dreamless Sleep potion in the medicine cabinet of The Burrow, supplied by Molly -she had insisted on being called by her name, as had Arthur- and Hermione, who were the best hands at potions. Everybody was struggling and coped the best they could. Trouble was, the potion was supposed to be used sporadically, as it could be addictive. "I think I am going to use the potion tonight. I need to rest if I am going to work at Wheezes tomorrow."
"Oh, I'm coming, too. Now that I'm of age, I can help, and George will need all hands on deck if he wants to reopen on Friday. But don't sidetrack me. Ron told me you were sleeping better lately, so what happened?"
Harry looked at her, slightly amused. "You won't drop the subject, would you?"
"We agreed to talk about everything that bothered us," said Ginny.
It was true. After that long night in Gryffindor's common room, they had found that confiding in each other worked out in favour of relief. Harry had never been one to share his feelings, but it was easier with Ginny. She knew when to prod him into speaking and when to listen patiently, and frequently offered wise insight, or silent support and a hug if she did not have any. For his part, he tried to do his best to reciprocate. He thought he was lousy at comforting and lacked time to reread what Twelve Fail-safe Ways to Charm Witches said on the matter, but Ginny seemed to appreciate his efforts.
Harry sighed. "Dementors, that's what happened. I… I was dreaming of them closing over me. Yesterday, they- I couldn't… Ron had to cover me. I had trouble casting a Patronus," he said, not meeting her eye. "I hadn't cast one since the battle, and back then I nearly couldn't do it, too. I was embarrassed, and also I worried, what… what if-"
"You are afraid this means you have a weakness and could compromise your chance of becoming an Auror?" said Ginny, shrewdly.
She had hit the nail, again. Surprised, he nodded. "What if I can't do it anymore, Gin? It's always been hard for me to be near those bloody things, but now it's even worse!" Harry felt agitated.
"Remus… he told me in my third year, they affected me more because bad things had happened to me. And now… I've been through still worse things since then and I'm having trouble to recall happy memories to make a strong Patronus. I can't risk being a liability on the field," he huffed, dropping himself on his back again. He ran his hands over his hair in frustration.
Ginny put a bookmark on his Charms book, closed it and laid down on the blanket at his side, pulling at the pillow he had used to nap so they could share it. She took his hand and squeezed it, but said nothing, looking immersed in thought.
"Did you know, George hasn't been able to cast a Patronus since the Battle? He went on the Lestrange House raid with Williamson, and they found Dementors watching over prisoners in the cellar. George had to flee, he couldn't do the charm. Apparently after that he has tried to cast it, to no avail. Hermione thinks there's a possibility he never will. But…" she chewed her lip.
Harry got up on his elbows and looked at her. "What?"
"After the Chamber, when Dementors searched the Hogwarts Express, you fainted, remember? I didn't, but it was pretty bad for me, too. It was bloody Riddle all over again, playing with my fears and insecurities. Two years later, when you taught Patronus at the DA, at first I thought, well, I don't think I'm powerful enough to do this, but I did! I had some solid happy memories worth a strong one. At the Battle, on the adrenaline rush, I met some Dementors and could have conjured not a horse, but a whole herd! Of course that was before Voldemort called his minions to retreat and I found about F-Fred." She scrunched her face. "And before you disappeared and made me worry like crazy." She shot him a reproachful look.
"And your point is…?", asked Harry.
"I haven't tried to cast one since then, so I'm not sure, but I bet you could do with some new nice memories you can hold onto," she said.
Harry flopped on his back again, looking up at the trees above. "Fat chance of that. Life's crap. We still don't dare to go out in case some Death Tosser spots us and tries to kill us. Hermione has postponed going to Australia to find her parents until next summer because she thinks it's not safe yet to return with them. We haven't had a free day between Auror training, helping George and another million things; I can't wait for those foreign volunteer Aurors Kingsley have recruited to begin work, I barely have time to go and see Teddy. And," he hit the floor with the fist, frustrated, "I'm so broke I could only get you a tin of broom polish for your birthday."
"Hey, I loved your gift!", she protested. "It means a lot to me. I like the smell…" She said nothing else, but blushed to the roots of her hair.
Harry raised his head and watched her, amused and intrigued. "Weasley, your face is like the setting sun. What's got to be with broom polish?"
If possible, Ginny's face went redder. "It's embarrassing. You will make fun of me."
"I wouldn't dream of. In any case, nothing wrong about a bit of fun," he winked.
She sat up straight. Harry copied her and sat in front of her, waiting. Ginny hid her face behind her hands and murmured, "I smelled broom polish in the Amortentia at Slughorn's class."
Harry was puzzled. "I fail to see the fun in that. I smelled something woodsy, treacle tart, and…" Oh. He felt his cheeks warming up.
Now it was Ginny's turn to wink at him. "I will say mine if you tell me yours, Potter."
He blushed harder, but accepted the dare. "Fine. The scent of your soap." Ginny snickered, and he complained. "Hey, don't! Now it's your turn!"
Ginny groaned and concealed her face again. Harry nudged her gently with his foot. "Be brave, Weasley."
She took a deep breath, let her hands fall and stared at him in the eye. "Broom polish, the Burrow's herb garden, and you."
"Me? How do I smell? I don't use cologne, or…"
Ginny shook her head, still looking like a tomato. "It's how you… smell after quidditch practice."
Harry felt the warmth in his cheeks spreading down his body. "And… you like it?"
Ginny nodded. "Do you remember the night of the Battle? When you went past me on the way to the Forest, I thought I sensed you, remember? In fact… I smelled you. I couldn't see anything, so I blamed the exhaustion. But it really was you. And… yes, believe it or not, it may be because of the association with quidditch, and all the good moments we've spent flying together, but there's nothing that turns me on more than you after practice." She had said all this with her chin up, looking at him with a gleam in her eyes, as if daring him to tease her.
He did not. The thought that he could arouse such feelings in Ginny was intoxicating and made funny things to his body. Dazedly, he closed the space between them, took her in his arms, and kissed her. Ginny responded with such heat, they ended up in a tangle over the blanket, until the sound of something moving not far broke them apart.
"If one of my bloody brothers bloody dares…" panted Ginny. She scanned the surroundings, relaxing when she saw a rabbit running away. "Just a bunny," she exhaled. She looked at Harry mischievously. "Where were we?"
"I believe we were making some new, powerful memories, Weasley." Fucking hot new ones, he thought.
Ginny grinned. "I need to stock up on them, too. In three weeks I'll be at Hogwarts and Merlin knows I'm going to miss you."
That put a dampen in Harry's mood. "I wish I could go with you, Gin. But…"
"Shhhhh," she said, putting a finger on his lips. "We've talked about this. You have to stay. Auror training dries you up, but you feel good doing it, as does helping George. Besides, you and Ron need the gold. I, on the other hand, have to return to Hogwarts if I want a chance to be scouted for professional quidditch. A few NEWTs won't hurt, either. Hermione and I will look for each other. You and Ron can each take care of the other, too." Something made her pause. A smile flickered in her face.
"Talking about my prat of a brother… did he have trouble with the Patronus?"
Harry did not particularly want to talk about Ron. His hands stroked her arms, but she slapped them away playfully. He sighed. "No. None at all. Pretty smug, he was about it. I asked how he had managed it, but the git wouldn't tell me. Why do you want to know?"
"Because something Hermione said made me wonder…" She looked at a faraway point and did not elaborate. Harry felt the moment slipping away, when all of a sudden Ginny got up, pulled out her wand and began to wave it, running in a circle. He recognized the Muffliato and some of the protective charms they used to cast on the run.
"What on earth… Gin, where did you learn this?" asked a perplexed Harry.
"Hermione." She finished casting around, pointed her wand at the floor and conjured another soft, fluffy pillow. The sight of them made Harry suddenly nervous.
Ginny sat down at his side. She put a hand in his cheek, stroking it tenderly. Then she kissed him slowly, softly. Harry closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to enjoy the moment. The touch of her lips, their sweet taste, her scent, the sound of the breeze in the leaves… it was overwhelming.
She broke the kiss. Harry opened his eyes, and let himself drown on Ginny's hard, blazing look. Somehow it made him feel emboldened, nervous and expectant at the same time.
"Let's make some new worthy memories, Harry," she said.
And with a swift movement, she took off her shirt.