The next morning in the castle, the mood was somber. It was hard to believe that they were finally going to leave the comfort and protection they had come to find in the castle since the battle ended. It was time though, the castle had been repaired as fully as it could be by their hands and it was time to move forward. After breakfast the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione gathered their things and made rounds to say good-bye to those others still left in the castle. People had been starting to head home over the last few days and the castle seemed rather empty.
George had been scarce since the battle. He, like Harry, had taken to isolating himself. Harry only remembered catching glimpses of George a handful of times since the end of the battle. At first he had refused to leave Fred's body, just sitting next to it on the floor of the room where they had placed the dead. When the bodies had finally been sent away to be stored until the funerals George had found a new place to hide, but no one knew where that was.
On this, the morning of their departure back into the real world, George was impeding things. "He says he doesn't want to leave the castle," Mrs. Weasley said, tears flowing down her cheeks, "Says that he would like to remain here where Fred died."
"Let me try to talk to him," Mr. Weasley responded.
Mr. Weasley had returned with barely more beneficial results. "The only thing he said was that he'd like to speak to Harry," Arthur relayed, "Harry, would you mind? He is up on the seventh floor in the first room on the right after the painting of the trolls in tutus."
Harry assured them that he would speak to George but as he made his way up to the seventh floor a cold terror filled his gut. "Here it is," he thought to himself, "Finally, someone who wants to lay the blame at my feet. Not that I didn't expect this." Harry approached the room and as he stood in the doorway he could understand why George would choose this room to isolate himself in. Harry himself had done the same years before.
George sat before a large mirror. Harry knew this to be the Mirror of Erised. It showed one the thing that they most desired in the world. When Harry had first discovered it during the Christmas holiday his first year he had sat in front of it for three days, mesmerized by what it had shown him, his family. Harry imagined that George was seeing himself and Fred living to grow very old together. Steeling his nerve Harry announced his presence.
George barely turned from the mirror but said, "Harry, it's you."
"Hey George," Harry said as he sat down beside George on the floor, "I see you found the Mirror of Erised. Back when I discovered it Dumbledore me that it wouldn't do to sit indefinitely in front of it and waste away, as it wouldn't bring my family back to me."
"That Dumbledore was a very smart wizard," George agreed.
"Why did you ask to speak to me?" Harry asked, already sure of what the answer would be.
George surprised him by saying, "You have lost people in your life. I wanted to know how you get up and keep going. Even though, there is a large part of me that would like to lie down and die too, just so I can be with Fred again."
"Do you really think that is what Fred would want you to do?" Harry asked.
"Of course not," George said, "Fred would have wanted the same as me if our positions were reversed. We'd just want the other to live, be happy and create enough trouble for the both of us."
"But that is hard to do," Harry stated, "When Sirius and then Dumbledore died, people kept telling me that they both would have wanted me to pick myself up and keep moving forward, but it is hard not to just wallow."
"So how did you do that?" George asked.
"Voldemort," Harry said grimly, "I knew that it was up to me to finish him off, so I couldn't just curl up and be sad. I had to keep going."
"Does it get easier?" George asked.
"It does get easier but the hurt never fully goes away," Harry said, "There are always what ifs. I didn't really know my parents but I still feel their absence and it stings."
"What do you mean, 'what ifs?'" George asked.
"What if Voldemort had gone after Neville instead….then my parents would be here to bring me to King's Cross for the train and I'd live in Godric's Hollow during the summer instead of on Privet Drive…." Harry said, "Stuff like that."
"Oh," George said, "Yeah, I've got loads of those. Like, what if Fred had lived, then we could have married a set of gorgeous and hilariously funny twins."
Harry laughed out loud before saying, "Was that really one of your ambitions?"
"Not a serious one, but yeah, it would have been fun," George said with a tiny smile.
Harry's smile vanished when he heard George break into sobs beside him. Unsure of what to say Harry simply put his arm around George and let him cry. When George's crying slowed he said, "I'm afraid that I don't know how to be just George. For as long as I can remember it was 'Fred and George.' When I hear my name on its own it just sounds like something is missing. He was more than my best friend, he was like my other half. I had a built in best friend from the day we were born, how do you just move forward without that after nineteen years?"
"I don't know George," Harry said, "I suppose you take it a day at a time and you remember that while you might be missing the person who meant the most, there are lots of us who are still here for you. Please let us help you."
"I will. Thanks Harry," George said, "Let's go home." Standing, he took one last look into the mirror and the ghost of a smile graced his tear streaked face.
The homecoming was as hard as Harry suspected it might be. Everyone apparated into the back garden, except Harry and Ginny, who didn't have licenses to apparate yet. Ron and Hermione brought them by side-along apparition. Harry could see nearly everyone was blinking back tears. If they were feeling what he was it was a mixture of happiness to see the Burrow still standing and sadness at not bringing home everyone who belonged to it. While in the castle everyone banded together and helped each other through the pain and sadness. Here it was the opposite. Everyone went to where they felt the most at home in the house and buried themselves in something to take their minds elsewhere.
Arthur went to his shed to tinker with his muggle collection. Molly went into the kitchen and began cooking copious amounts of food that undoubtedly no one would be hungry for. Bill and Fleur shut themselves into Bill's old room and no one wanted to think about what they might be occupying their time with. Charlie remained outside channeling his anger and sadness by chucking gnomes over the garden fence. Percy seemed at odds, not having been home to the Burrow in years but finally going up to his room where a quill could be heard scratching endlessly across parchment. Ron went up to his attic bedroom. Hermione brought her things into Ginny's room before following Ron upstairs. Ginny took a broom from the shed and took off into the skies. Harry and George were the only ones left standing in the middle of the garden watching Charlie chucking gnomes.
"I don't know where to go," George confessed, "I'm afraid to go into our room, the memories."
Harry nodded and said, "I understand."
"I think I'll go down to the river," George finally said.
"Do you want company?" Harry asked.
"Not just now," George said, "But thanks."
Harry let himself into the house and asked Molly if he might use one of the owls to deliver a message to Kingsley.
"You don't need to ask Harry, this is your home too," Molly replied.
Kingsley,
The Weasleys, Hermione and I returned to the Burrow this morning. If you need me I can be contacted there.
I am hoping you can help me get an apparition license. I did the classes for it during my sixth year of school but had to go on the run before getting to take my test. I have some matters to attend to this summer and having my license would be of some help.
Do you know if my Aunt and Uncle's house is still standing on Privet Drive? I left some things there I could use when I return to Hogwarts in the fall. I will go and retrieve them if you think they are still there.
Thanks,
Harry
After sending his letter off with Pig Harry brought his belongings up to the attic and left them on the landing outside Ron's room. Back outside Harry helped himself to a broom out of the shed and took off into the sky. He first flew over the river looking for George by its banks. Seeing that George was quietly watching the water's path from a large rock on the bank, he flew on. He flew in ever widening circles around the house, looking for Ginny. After nearly an hour of searching for her Harry decided that maybe she wasn't ready to be found and returned to the Burrow.
When Harry entered the house Molly had lunch laid out on the table.
"Oh Harry," Molly said, "Where have you been?"
"Just flying a bit," Harry said.
"Were you with Ginny?" Molly asked.
"No, I was looking for her, but never found her," Harry said, "George is down by the river,"
"I'm sure she'll be back soon," Molly said, "Flying was always one of her best activities to get rid of stress."
After lunch Harry went into the sitting room with the list of information Professor McGonagall had given him to help him with planning Snape's funeral. He wasn't planning a large occasion, in fact Harry very much doubted that very many people would be at all interested in attending. Harry set to work writing letters to arrange everything for the funeral. When everything was arranged he would hold the funeral without delay and without any notice, he intended to be the sole witness.
Molly came into the sitting room as Harry finished the last of the letters and set it upon the stack. "What are you up to?" She asked.
"I took on the responsibility of Snape's funeral," Harry explained, "These letters are for some of the arrangements."
"Professor McGonagall mentioned that," Molly said, "It is very good of you to do."
"I owe him my life, it seemed like a small thing to give him in return," Harry explained, "When is Fred's funeral going to be?"
"Day after tomorrow," Molly said, "We are going to hold the funeral here and bury Fred in the back corner of the garden."
"Do you and Arthur need help with any of it?" Harry asked. He knew that they would never accept money from him but he needed to ask anyway.
"No Harry dear, but thank you," Molly said with a sniffle, "I need to go check on my pies."
Harry sent off the letters before going up the attic. He knocked on the attic door then gave Ron and Hermione a full two minutes before entering. They still looked fairly disheveled but at least both were fully dressed.
"Sorry," Harry said at their inquiring looks, "But I need to wash some clothes. Hermione, do you have my clothes from your beaded bag?"
"I'll go fetch them," Hermione said.
Harry dumped his knapsack onto the cot he slept on while at the Burrow and pulled out all the clothing. He met Hermione on his way back down to the kitchen and she handed him a large quantity of filthy clothing. He took his clothing down to the laundry room off the kitchen and sorted it into several piles. As he loaded the first pile into the washer he realized what bad shape most were in. And none of what he had would be suitable to wear to a funeral. His dress robes were back in his trunk at Privet Drive and they might be too small now anyway, he'd had the same set since fourth year. He was going to have to go to Diagon Alley and maybe even a few muggle shops to get some proper clothing soon. He would ask Ginny if she would accompany him tomorrow.
"Harry," Molly said, startled, as the poked her head into the laundry room, "What are you doing in here?"
"My laundry," Harry said, "I'm sorry I didn't even ask."
"You don't need to ask, but you could have asked me to wash these for you," She reprimanded.
"Thanks," Harry said, "But it was no trouble. Do you know if Ginny is back yet?"
"Yes, she went into her room about a half an hour ago," Molly said.
"Thanks," Harry said again.
Harry knocked lightly on Ginny's door and called, "Gin, you in there?"
"Come in," He heard her call.
She was sitting cross-legged against her headboard knitting something. He approached the bed and carefully sat down at the end. He watched her interestedly as the needles in her fingers moved deftly while she muttered to herself, "knit, purl, knit, purl…" When she finally reached what appeared to be the end of the row she looked up at him and said, "Hi."
"Hi," Harry responded, "What are you doing?"
"Knitting a sock," Ginny said, "I needed something to do that would keep my mind busy," she explained, "Usually flying relaxes me but I don't need to think while I do it and today I need to keep my mind quiet or I'm bound to explode."
Harry picked up the item she had been knitting and looked at it, "Why a sock?"
"Well, Mum taught me how to knit when I was five. I can knit sweaters, scarves, hats and such in my sleep. Socks are a bit more difficult and so I need to concentrate more and the more I concentrate the less I am able to think about Fred," Ginny said as her eyes filled.
Harry gathered her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder.
"It is so much worse being home," Ginny cried, "At the castle it was easier to pretend that he was alive. Here I have too many memories of him and I keep expecting him to appear around a corner."
After a few minutes Ginny untangled herself from Harry's embrace and picked up the sock. She began knitting again and Harry just watched her.
"I figure I can give everyone socks for Christmas if I keep up at this rate," Ginny said, "This pair in particular is for Percy I think, this design I'm starting on the side is going to look like a quill."
"Can I ask a favor?" Harry said, "It might help take your mind off things too." Ginny nodded and he said, "Most of my clothing is destroyed from being on the run during the last year and my dress robes are at Privet Drive. I was hoping maybe you'd come with me to London tomorrow to help me buy some new clothes."
"Of course," Ginny said with a smile, "It is every girl's dream to dress her boyfriend." Comically Ginny's face contorted as she realized what she'd said and she quickly backtracked, "I didn't mean that. We haven't discussed if we are boyfriend and girlfriend yet…I didn't mean to imply…"
"Gin," Harry said, "It's fine, I love that you called me your boyfriend."
"Really?" She asked.
"Really," Harry confirmed, "I actually think of us as something more than that. I'm sure I shouldn't be telling you this but someday I want to marry you. Maybe it was my experiences and being apart from you for the last year, but I need you to understand my intentions. This doesn't mean we're engaged or anything, maybe more of a promise or an understanding. And if when that time comes you don't want me you can say no. I will only ever want for you to be happy."
When Harry lifted his eyes from the spot on her bedspread that he'd been addressing during his little speech he was shocked to see tears trickling down Ginny's face. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry, I should have kept all that to myself."
"Harry, no," Ginny said, "You don't understand. These are happy tears. I've been telling my brothers since I was about six that I would marry Harry Potter one day. Back then it was just a crush, but the longer I've known you as a friend and as more than a friend the more I've come to realize it was true. I love you, Harry."
"So, you want to marry me someday too?" Harry asked, stunned.
"Yes," Ginny breathed, "Mum reckons that anytime before and after a war people are declaring themselves left, right and center, but I like to think that it is more than that, like fate or destiny."
"I agree," Harry said, "We shall keep this our secret though, for now?"
"Of course," Ginny said, "Mum would hate that her only daughter and youngest child who isn't even legal yet is talking about plans to someday marry."
"Do you think she'll be pleased that you've chosen me someday when the time comes?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Ginny said, "She already thinks of you as a son, marrying me would only make it official. My family loves you."
"A secret for now then," Harry repeated.
"Yes, a delicious secret," Ginny said with a grin as she leaned toward him for a kiss.
After several long minutes of lip lock with Ginny they heard someone on the landing and broke apart. The door opened and Molly stuck her head in, "What are you two up to?"
"I need to get some new clothes, at very least something to wear to Fred's funeral," Harry explained, "I was asking Ginny if she'd help me get some shopping done tomorrow."
"Oh, lovely," Molly said, "We should cut your hair too."
"Sure," Harry said feebly, remembering the job Molly had done on Bill's hair before the wedding.
"Or Ginny can cut it for you, she has a talent for it," Molly said.
"I'll cut it tonight after dinner," Ginny offered, "In the garden."
"Have either of you seen George?" Molly asked, "That was what I came up for."
"Did he ever come back for lunch?" Harry asked.
"No," Molly said.
"He went to the river earlier, maybe he is still there," Harry said, "If you have any sandwiches left I could bring some to him."
"I'll put some into a basket," Molly said as she hurried down to the kitchen.
"Do you want to come?" Harry asked Ginny.
"No," Ginny said, "I'm going to go back to my knitting for now."
Harry understood that it wasn't that she didn't want to help but that right now she couldn't. She was having a hard enough time mastering her own emotions, she could send George into a further depression. Harry kissed her on the cheek and left the room. He gathered a picnic basket from Molly in the kitchen and headed out into the garden.
When he reached the river George was still in exactly the same place he'd been when Harry flew over him earlier. Dropping onto the rock beside George he said, "Your mother sent some lunch."
George took the basket but didn't open it, "I can't go into the house," he said.
"Too many memories," Harry said.
"Yes," George confirmed. It was as if George had no recollection of having nearly an identical conversation earlier with Harry.
"It was the same with Sirius's house after he died. Even though he hated the place it was his home and everything there has memories of him," Harry said, playing along, he was sure the last thing George was worried about was repeating himself.
"I'm not sure where I'm going to sleep tonight. I can't imagine going into our room," George said.
"I'm sure someone would swap rooms with you," Harry started to offer.
George blurted, "I don't want anyone else sleeping in there either."
"Perhaps Hermione and I could go and box some things up so it would be easier to sleep in there?" Harry suggested.
"That would be good," George said.
"Leave it to me then," Harry said, "And eat some of that food, even if you don't feel like you can eat, your body needs it."
Harry returned to the house and went up to the attic to ask Hermione to help him. In a choked voice Ron offered to help too but the look in his eyes told Harry that he could imagine nothing worse at that moment. Harry and Hermione spent an hour packing what seemed to be most of the room's contents into boxes. When they felt sure they had gotten everything that would be hard for George to look at Hermione levitated all the boxes into one corner of the room and set a curtain around them to block them from view.
Dinner that night was a quiet affair. The kitchen was crowded with all the Weasleys home plus Harry and Hermione, but conversation was sparse. When the dishes had been done, despite the early hour everyone headed off to bed. Everyone wanted a reason not to talk on this difficult night. Tomorrow would be better, getting past the first day back home would feel like a small victory. Through out the house everyone lie in their beds but no one slept. Molly and Arthur lay still in the dark thinking about how parents weren't supposed to live to bury their children. Bill and Fleur lay in their bed discussing how soon after the funeral they might return to Shell Cottage and their life there. Charlie lay in his bed trying to read a book about dragons but finding that he had reread the same page four times and still retained none of it. Percy lay in his bed on his stomach still writing and writing, ink staining his long fingers. George lie awake in his room knowing that Fred was gone but not being able to believe it in their own room which still held the ghost of their laughter. Ron and Harry lay awake up in the attic listening to the ghoul clank around next door and Harry remembering that he hadn't gotten his haircut as he pushed unruly locks away from his eyes. Ginny and Hermione lie in their beds, Ginny propped against some pillows so she could knit her sock and Hermione pouring over 'Hogwarts: A History,' even though she practically knew it by heart. It would get easier a day at a time, this first night would be the hardest.
Author's Note: Hi All! I still like to hear how I'm doing. What do you think of the direction I'm taking…any suggestions? I get the most inspiration from hearing what readers think…so let me know! I'm not sure if the funeral will be the next chapter or the one after. I know my pacing of this story is quite slow at the moment but it will pick up…I don't want to gloss over any of this hard first part – I think it will set the tone for the rest of the story. Thanks!
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