Chapter 8 - Slow Steps Forward

May 17, 1998

It had been two weeks since they'd left Hogwarts. Two weeks of hard days dealing with the fallout; the stress and the heartbreak of funeral after funeral, of trying and failing and trying again to fall into a rhythm and a routine that didn't hinge entirely upon looking over their shoulder every moment.

But they were managing; mornings were for sneaking him and Hermione back to their "parentally-designated" rooms then heading down to either help Mrs. Weasley with breakfast or Quidditch training. Ginny had thrown herself wholeheartedly into her training in a way Harry hadn't seen before. She was regularly up at the very crack of dawn—part of the reason why he and Hermione had yet to be caught in the wrong room—and leading the training entirely; running laps around the Burrow's grounds, strength training, conditioning, and then walking through Quidditch strategies.

They were all still woefully broomless, much to Ron's ever-present chagrin.

Ginny had been noncommittal regarding what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, but Harry was beginning to form a picture. He was reminded more and more of the way Oliver Wood had approached his final year at Hogwarts. But it seemed that Harry was the only one putting that together.

"Watch your back, mate," Ron teased between mouthfuls of eggs and sausage at breakfast that morning. He nudged Harry's ribs. "I think she wants to be Captain this year."

Ginny gave Harry a knowing look over her glass of orange juice. They hadn't actually spent a lot of time talking about the coming term and their specific plans, but they'd both thrown themselves into preparing for a potential return to Quidditch. Ever since the makeshift "game" that he had worked out with Oliver he'd been feeling a persistent urge to get back on a broom.

"Does that mean you're planning to return to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked over the top of the morning's Prophet. The article on the front page read, in large print, Kingsley Shacklebolt Elected Minister for Magic.

"Haven't decided quite yet," Harry admitted. "Can I…?" He gestured to the paper. She folded it up and handed it over the table to him.

"I think you should," Hermione said, spreading some butter and jam on toast and taking a neat bite. It was a stark contrast to Ron's wolfishness. "Honestly, Ron, we've been back for two weeks. You're not going to starve or have to run off anywhere."

"Wha'? 'm hun'ry," Ron mumbled, his words barely discernible through a mouthful of food.

Hermione just rolled her eyes, but Harry caught the subtle curve of an amused smirk on her lips that wouldn't have been there before. "Anyway, you both should," she said, looking pointedly at Harry and Ron. "I know you've talked about joining the Aurors, but the Aurors will be there next year, too. And having your N.E.W.T.s will open up more opportunities for you as you progress through your careers."

"Not all of us are looking to be Minister for Magic in ten years," Ron pointed out.

They started their bickering again—Harry swore it was some sort of weird flirting designed to make everyone else uncomfortable—but he was only half paying attention as he read through the front page of the Prophet.

Kingsley Shacklebolt Elected Minister for Magic: A New Vision for the Ministry
By Belvina Broadsheet, Political Correspondent

Kingsley Shacklebolt, admired for his leadership during the war against Lord Voldemort, has been officially elected as Minister for Magic following an overwhelming vote of confidence from the Wizarding public. The announcement, made earlier today, signals the start of what many hope will be a transformative era for the British Ministry of Magic.

Shacklebolt, who has served as Interim Minister since Voldemort's defeat, is widely credited with restoring stability and trust during this time of profound uncertainty. His calm demeanor, decisive actions, and tireless efforts to unite the wizarding community in the wake of Voldemort's defeat have earned him widespread respect.

"This election is not about me," Shacklebolt said in his inaugural address. "It is about us as a society choosing to move forward together. It is about ensuring that no future Dark Lord can ever rise again through division, fear, or corruption."

Shacklebolt has already announced plans for sweeping reforms within the Ministry, aimed at rooting out the remnants of Voldemort's influence and safeguarding against future abuses of power. Among his proposed initiatives are:

Transparency in Government: Establishing independent oversight committees to ensure accountability across all departments.

Equality and Inclusion: Expanding protections for Muggle-borns, magical creatures, and non-human beings, ensuring they have equal rights and opportunities under wizarding law.

Educational Outreach: Strengthening partnerships with Hogwarts and other magical institutions to foster a new generation of witches and wizards dedicated to justice and unity.

Enhanced Auror Training: Rebuilding the Auror Department with a focus on ethics and vigilance to prevent infiltration by dark forces.

"The Ministry has long been a beacon of our magical society, but we must acknowledge its failings and work to rebuild it as a force for good," Shacklebolt continued. "This is not just about policies and procedures—it is about culture. We must become a Ministry that values every voice, defends every individual, and places the welfare of all above the ambitions of the few."

Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Office, expressed his support for Shacklebolt's vision. "Minister Shacklebolt understands the challenges we face and the necessity of ensuring they never happen again. His leadership is precisely what wizarding Britain needs right now."

The response from the wizarding community has been overwhelmingly positive. Wizarding families, many of whom suffered under Voldemort's regime, have expressed hope that Shacklebolt's leadership will usher in an era of fairness and prosperity.

As the new Minister begins his term, the eyes of the wizarding world are fixed on the Ministry. The road ahead may be challenging, but with Shacklebolt at the helm, the future seems brighter than ever.

(For more information on Minister Shacklebot's proposed reforms, see page 8)

"What do you think, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"What's that?" Harry dropped the paper and glanced back up. "I think you both make great points." Ron snorted and Hermione gave him an annoyed look. He folded the paper and put it away. "Sorry. What's up?"

"Going back to Hogwarts," Hermione began, a bit more forcefully this time. "We'd all get to take our final year and sit our N.E.W.T.s together." She said this like it was the most convincing argument of all time, then looked pointedly from Harry to Ginny and back again.

"I hear you, I do," Harry assured her. "But it's only been two weeks, Hermione. We'd still be at Hogwarts in any other year. We've got months to decide."

"Yes, but you'll need to let Professor McGonagall know," Hermione said. "She has so much on her plate already with the rebuilding, finding new professors, choosing the new head girl and boy—"

"Picking Quidditch Captains," Ginny cut in.

"I told you," Ron said, looking pointedly at Harry.

Harry just grinned and shrugged. Ginny would be a much better Quidditch Captain than him whether he returned to Hogwarts or not. She was one of the fiercest players he'd ever seen; by her fourth year she had already challenged the established Chaser trio of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie while filling his Seeker position. She was a natural leader—she'd held together the student body under the Death Eater regime and led the revived Dumbledore's Army. She was quick to encourage the newer players, but never hesitated to call out anyone who wasn't pulling their weight.

She had Ron's head for strategy and reading the game; she could anticipate the movements of both her teammates and opponents with uncanny accuracy. But more than that, she wasn't just about winning. Though she always played to win, she cared about the well-being of her teammates, ensuring that everyone felt valued and respected, no matter their skill level.

"Listen, mate, I know you fancy her something wicked, but that also means you're the one who's gotta' keep her in line," Ron said, piling another helping of bacon onto his plate. Ginny frowned and flicked a fried tomato his way, but Ron caught it, shrugged, and plopped it in his mouth.

"Is that what you're doing with Hermione?" Harry asked, feigning innocence. Hermione's head turned so quickly Harry swore he almost heard it.

"Yes. Wait. What? No—I—err…" Ron coughed, caught between mouthfuls. He sputtered helplessly for a second and took a long drink of pumpkin juice, then slammed the now-empty glass down on the table. He glanced sheepishly at Hermione. "Hi."

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron gave him a pleading look, but Hermione drove on. "Please tell me exactly how you 'keep me in line'."

"Harry, what do I do?" Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Hey, Gin, didn't we have that conveniently-timed distraction in the orchard to get to right about now?" he said with a grin. He nodded his head to the door.

"Yep," Ginny shot her brother a mischievous grin and sprung to her feet.

"Wait. Don't!" Ron stammered.

"Have fun!" Ginny said. She hesitated for a split second before grabbing the bacon off Ron's plate and leading Harry out the door. The door closed behind them just as Hermione began to launch into a tirade. Once outside she looped her arm around his and leaned against his shoulder.

"You're sure they're actually together, right?" Ginny asked as they made their way towards the orchard. "Because I honestly can't tell the difference."

Harry remembered the moment from a few nights prior when he'd returned to their room and found Ron shirtless and waiting for Hermione. He suppressed a shudder. "Positive," he said. "They've spent years working each other up. I'd be more worried if they started getting on perfectly all of a sudden."

"I don't get it," Ginny admitted, shaking her head.

"I think it's just how they flirt," Harry said. He glanced over his shoulder to the Burrow. "If your mum wasn't still in the house they'd probably be snogging right now."

"C'mon, Harry, that's my brother," Ginny swatted him on the arm.

"Hypocrite," Harry said teasingly. "I seem to recall someone getting rather cross when their sibling caught them snogging and got all out of sorts."

"Is that really what you want to bring up while we're walking out alone into the orchard for a 'conveniently-timed distraction'?" Ginny asked.

"Forget I said anything," Harry said quickly.

"Smart man, Potter."

They settled under one of the trees in the orchard and Harry pulled Ginny onto his lap. She giggled and leaned into him. Harry leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, his arms wrapping loosely around Ginny's waist.

"Comfy?" he teased, his lips curving into a grin.

"Very," Ginny replied. She settled against his chest. "You make a good cushion, Potter."

"Better than this tree," Harry quipped back.

"How does it compare to a broom cupboard?" Ginny asked, tracing featherlight touches along his forearm.

"Which one?" he said teasingly.

"At Hogwarts."

"Which one?" he teased again.

"Our favorite," she said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I have a favorite."

"What? Yes you do," Ginny insisted. "You told me so."

Harry chuckled, his hands resting lightly on her hips, his thumbs brushing small circles against the fabric of her shirt. "My favorite was whichever we were in at the time."

Ginny tilted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mischief and something else that made his heart race.

"Harry," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah?"

She closed the small distance between them and her lips found his. The kiss was slow at first, tender and exploratory, but it quickly deepened. Her fingers thread through his hair in the way that always drove him wild and his hands tightened on her waist.

The world around them seemed to fade, lost to the thrum of blood pounding in his ears and the warmth of her pressed against him. Ginny shifted slightly to straddle his lap. Harry's breath hitched as her hands began to trace the contours of his chest, slipping under the hem of his shirt.

"Ginny," he murmured against her lips, his voice low.

"Hmm?" she hummed, her hands wandering further, her touch both teasing and insistent.

His thoughts jumbled together, torn between hesitation and the undeniable pull of the moment. "We're…outside," he managed to say, though the words lacked conviction.

"I've noticed," Ginny said, trailing kisses down his jawline. Ginny pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her cheeks flushed. Her lips curved into a wicked smile. "No one's coming out here," she said, her voice playful.

Harry couldn't argue with her logic—he didn't exactly want to. With one final glance around, he let his hands slide up her back, drawing her closer. Ginny kissed him again, her movements bolder now, her fingers tugging at his shirt.

The intensity between them grew, their kisses deepening. Harry's hands skimmed up her legs and cupped her bum, and Ginny pushed herself against him at his touch. He could feel her smile against his lips. He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

Ginny blinked at him, her eyes dark. "Too much?" she asked gently.

He shook his head, a small laugh escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck. "No, it's not that. I just…" He trailed off, glancing around at their secluded spot. "Getting caught at Hogwarts feels different than getting caught here."

Ginny grinned, her cheeks flushed as she settled back into his lap, her hands now resting on his shoulders. "Fair enough," she said. She brushed a strand of hair from his face. "I suppose it wouldn't kill us to slow down."

"At least when we're right out in the open," Harry agreed, his own cheeks warm as he leaned back against the tree. He still found it hard to flaunt the trust the Weasleys had shown him. Sneaking around at night was—apparently—fine, but snogging in the orchard was where he supposed he drew the line. "Maybe we'll continue this later."

"Making promises, Potter?"

"Only the best kind," He said.

Ginny grinned and kissed him deeply, leaving Harry struggling to resist the temptation to reignite their snogging session. She seemed to sense this—because she somehow always seemed to—and snuggled down against his chest again.

"This was a good idea," she said softly. "Way better than listening to Hermione and my brother argue about N.E.W.T.s." He hummed in agreement. "Though I suppose if I go back next term I'll get to experience the Hermione Revision Schedule myself."

"You'll probably appreciate it after you get your results, but during the year…" He shook his head playfully. "Does that mean you're going back?"

"I don't think I was really considering not," Ginny admitted. She took his hand and began tracing widening circles on his palm. It sent shivers up his spine. "It's not like there's too much to do without my N.E.W.T.s unless I do the Auror thing."

"That'd give your mum a heart attack," Harry said.

"And that's not…"

"Not really your calling?" Harry supplied. Ginny nodded and placed a light kiss at the center of his palm. He groaned.

"Sorry," she said, pulling his hand away from her lips but changing little else.

"No, you're not," he teased accusingly.

"No, I'm not," she agreed with a grin that set his heart racing.

"I think you just like making things hard for me."

"And here I thought I was making things hard for me," she said, and ground her hips against him in a way that set his heart pounding for an entirely different reason.

"Merin—fuck—Gin!" Harry gasped. His hands flew to her sides and she shrieked in laughter.

"No fair tickling me," she said as she scooted out of his reach. Her face was flush, her freckles looking darker, but there was no hint of that awkwardness they'd struggled with until recently.

"Oh, tickling is where we're drawing the line, is it?"

"Yes."

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled her closer. He fixed her with a warning glare, but couldn't stop the grin from fighting its way onto his face. "You're going to get me in trouble."

"Oh, please," she waved him off. "Mum and Dad would be more upset with me than with you. Besides, I'm going to snog you every chance I get if you're not coming back to Hogwarts with me."

"What do you—"

"Come on, Harry," Ginny said, turning serious. "If you were going to go back to Hogwarts you wouldn't be talking about Hermione Revision like you weren't going to be there with me."

"I…" Harry trailed off. That hadn't occurred to him. "Maybe I have already decided."

"You've always wanted to be an Auror," Ginny said. He nodded. It was a poorly-kept secret, and certainly not a secret between them, but his heart warmed hearing her talk about his future so casually.

"I did—do, I mean," Harry said quickly. He scratched his neck thoughtfully. "But I'm worried that was just because of everything going on with Voldemort." He glanced down in embarassment. "What if I hate it? What if I love it but I'm rubbish at it?"

Ginny laughed. "You, Harry?" she took his face in her hands and forced him to look her in the eyes. "Did you not do all of those things you told Kingsley about?" He nodded. "Do you think an Auror could pull all that off while being the most wanted man in Britain?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "It always sounds more impressive if you say it like that."

"I didn't say anything," Ginny countered with a smirk. "I just made you think back to the things you did and made you admit they were impressive." He grunted and she rolled her eyes. "Besides, it's not like they don't train you. You think everyone just struts into their first day on the job as an Elite Auror?"

Harry sighed and nodded, conceding her point. "I'm just nervous," he admitted.

"It's not bad being nervous about your future," Ginny pointed out.

"I never really gave myself the luxury of…"

"Thinking too much about it. I know," Ginny said. Merlin, she knew him so well. "But, Harry, you've been investigating dark magic and Dark Wizards since you were eleven years old."

Harry doubted it was that simple or straightforward, but kept that to himself.

"Look, if you're really worried about it, ask Dad or Percy about that Gawain guy who's in charge of the Auror Office now," she suggested. A grin fell over her face and she poked his side playfully. "Or ask Kingsley and I bet he'll introduce you."

"I don't want to get special treatment," Harry insisted. He was only beginning to really understand how much things were going to change around him. He'd avoided going into public wizarding places so far, but the articles he'd read since the battle treated like some sort of messiah. It was embarrassing, really.

"You're going to find jealous people who want to say you've gotten…wherever you end up because of being Harry Potter everywhere you go for the rest of your life," Ginny said seriously. Harry winced. It sounded horrible. "At least until you prove them wrong. So…why not get something for your trouble?"

Harry nodded his head side to side thoughtfully. It still wouldn't feel right. "Maybe I'll ask your dad," he said. "I don't want to bother Percy. He's been really…preoccupied with everything else going on."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Please, Percy would love to talk Ministry stuff with you. I can't imagine how left-out he's feeling with all the paperwork they're all getting to do without him."

He nodded, a smile cutting through his defeat. "How do you always make things seem so easy?"

"Because I'm bloody brilliant," she said smugly.

"You are," he admitted.

"And don't forget it," she said. She settled back and gave him an appraising look, her head cocked to the side. "So, Auror Potter—damn, that's sexy." She looked thunderstruck. "Now I can't stop picturing you in an Auror's uniform."

Harry laughed, loudly and unabashed. He wrapped his arms tightly around Ginny, burying his face against her chest as the laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around him and placed a kiss on top of his head.

He pulled back, unable to help the grin. "I—you're amazing."

A strange look of triumph and disappointment fell across her face for a moment so fleeting that Harry was left wondering if he'd imagined it. It was quickly replaced by another smile that made his heart skip a beat. She really was incredible. Still, the flash of something that flitted across her face left him worried. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong, but something felt off.

"Alright, Miss Weasley, since we're talking about the future," Harry began, trying to keep his tone light. "You're clearly not too worried about N.E.W.T.s this year."

"Why would I stress over N.E.W.T.s after everything last year?" Ginny challenged. "Just because you're scared and want to skive off after sixth year. Maybe I'm just smarter than you."

"Don't I know it," he said with a grin. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "But I think there's something else on your mind."

"Oh, do you?" she said with a smirk.

"I do. See, I've noticed a few things about you," he said.

"I've seen you noticing my things," she teased, her smirk widening.

Harry frowned playfully and poked her in the side, earning a startled, ticklish shriek. "You've been getting up early and working out like we've got the Quidditch Cup finals next week," he said.

"I just want to win." Ginny shrugged with casual indifference.

"You're at Oliver Wood levels of dedication."

"Well I don't know what the rest of the team will look like this year," she admitted, her shoulders dropping slightly. "I'm sure Demelza will be back—Jimmy and Ritchie, too—but we need another Chaser and a Seeker. A Keeper, too, if Ron isn't coming back."

"What did you do last year?" Harry asked, fighting a pang of guilt. They'd never really talked about her experiences with Quidditch during the past year, and he realized how much it must have mattered to her.

Ginny shook her head. "We never even got the chance to hold tryouts," she said flatly. "I know you said Snape was on our side, but…I never would have guessed."

Harry frowned. His own feelings for Snape were…complicated at best, but he pushed that aside. "Well you might luck out with Chasers," he said, ignoring the churning in his stomach. "I'm betting Dean wants to finish his seventh year after being on the run."

Ginny shrugged. "Dean's alright. But he's never really clicked with me and Demelza."

Harry felt some of his discomfort settle but quickly masked it. "You could always play Seeker. You did win us the Cup."

"Yeah, I could," Ginny shrugged, but she seemed unconvinced.

"But you want to play Chaser," Harry said. Ginny nodded. "You want to be seen playing Chaser."

Ginny looked away and chewed her bottom lip. "I think…I want to play professionally." She couldn't meet his gaze. "At least, I want to try," she added quickly.

Harry turned her chin so that she was looking him in the eyes. "You'd be fucking brilliant."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned pink. "You're my boyfriend—you have to say that."

"I've never said anything I was just supposed to say and you know it," Harry countered. "You regularly outfly everyone on a school broom. You play Seeker almost as well as I do—"

"Excuse me, almost?" Ginny challenged, fixing him with the blazing look he adored. "How many Quidditch Cups have you won?"

"I was on the team when we won in '93," Harry challenged back.

"Well I played Seeker to win two different Cups," Ginny said triumphantly. "While you were sitting on your pretty arse in detention or whatever."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "My point," he said, leveling a teasing frown at her, "is that Seeker isn't even your best position." His grin softened as he looked at her. "I've seen you play. I've seen you fly. Do you really want to play pro?"

Ginny gave him a hard, accusing look. "Yes, I just—"

"You said 'I think.' That's not a Ginny move."

"I want to play professionally," Ginny said, a little more convincing this time. He gave her an expectant look. "I'm going to play professionally."

"Then we need to get you back on a broom as soon as possible," Harry said, a decisive edge to his voice as he stood. He extended a hand toward Ginny, helping her to her feet with a steady pull. "Sounds like a trip to Diagon Alley is in order."

"I'm glad you asked, Harry. I think it would be an excellent idea for you to meet with Mr. Robards," said Percy as the family tucked into dinner later that evening. Bill and Fleur had joined them from Shell Cottage as well.

Harry shot Ginny a knowing look, and watched as she fought back a smirk.

"In fact, I know for certain that he caused quite a bit of trouble for the Thickenese Administration and the Muggle-Born Registration Commission," Percy continued, passing a bowl of potatoes to George. "He never acted outright, of course—far too much scrutiny for that—but his investigations were always very thorough. He refused to make accusations until he had undeniable proof and interviewed friends and family of suspected muggle-borns enough for them to pass along warnings."

"Kingsley wouldn't have appointed him to such an important position if he didn't trust Robards implicitly. There are still too many Death Eaters and former followers of Voldemort at-large," Mr. Weasley said. He gave Harry an appraising look. "It sounds like you're considering Kingsley's offer."

Harry could feel Ron's gaze on him. "I think I am," he admitted. "I've always wanted to be an Auror. I just…want to make sure it's for the right reasons, and not just because I had all the Voldemort stuff to deal with."

"Then you should sit down with Robards," Mr. Weasley suggested, looking from Harry to Ron and back again. "He's a hard man, but he's fair, and he believes in justice."

"We could make a day of it," Mrs. Weasley suggested, setting another helping of roasted vegetables in front of Harry. He shot Ron a helpless look, but Ron just shrugged and kept eating from his ever-refilling plate. "There are a few things we've been meaning to pick up from Diagon Alley anyway."

"I should check in with Gringotts as well," Bill muttered. He spared Harry a wary glance. "But you might want to keep a low profile with them for the time being."

Harry shook his head. "Kingsley said most of it's been smoothed over already," he said. "Told me not to worry about it."

"What? When was that?" Ginny asked.

"After Fred's," he answered, swallowing thickly. He still wasn't comfortable bringing it up, not so soon after. "He pulled me aside before we went to the Quidditch pitch."

"That's great," Ron said between mouthfuls. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Honestly there were other things on my mind that day," Harry said with a shrug. "He said I'll probably have to meet with the Head Goblin and make amends, but…"

"And I should stop by the shop and see how much work needs to be done," George said offhandedly, though his voice shook slightly in the middle.

There was a beat of silence before Mrs. Weasley asked tentatively, "Are you sure, dear? No one would fault you for taking some more time."

George shook his head. "Freddie would rise from the grave and haunt me if I took too much more time to get it back open," he said. "It was our calling; it deserves to open again."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes misty. "Fred would be proud of you."

There were mutters of agreement all around. George focused intently on his plate, his ears burning red.

Hermione glanced pointedly at Ron and nudged him. He looked momentarily confused before realization dawned on him.

"Er, since we're talking plans," Ron began awkwardly, "Hermione and I need to head to Diagon Alley too."

"And make arrangements at the Ministry," Hermione added. She shifted uncomfortably, poking at her food.

"Oh?" Mr. Weasley asked. He placed his utensils down and exchanged glances with Mrs. Weasley. There was a moment of back-and-forth conversation between them, communicated only by the widening and narrowing of eyes, the shaking and nodding of heads, the changing angles of lips, and the widening or narrowing of eyes.

"Is there…err…something we should be…expecting?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice even but her eyes seeming to blaze accusingly at the same time. Harry suddenly understood exactly where Ginny had gotten her temper from.

"Molly," Mr. Weasley said placatingly. He turned back to Ron. "Now, I know we wanted to give you all some…err…freedom, but I thought we had talked about propriety as well, and—"

"No! Dad!" Ron exclaimed, his face turning a deeper shade of red than Harry had ever seen. Around the table, the other Weasleys struggled to control their reactions. George let out a snorting laugh. Bill and Fleur exchanged amused glances, Charlie hid his face in his hands, and even Percy was biting his lip.

Hermione looked mortified, her face scarlet. "No—Sir, we only—"

"We need to talk with Kingsley about arranging an international portkey," Ron cut in, his words tumbling out quickly, his face still burning.

"International—absolutely not, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley objected. "What could you possibly—"

"Hermione's parents are in Australia," Ron cut in, casting a nervous glance to his parents.

Hermione took a deep breath and quickly explained what she had done to protect her parents, leaving the rest of the table stunned. Ron took her hand as she spoke, his grip steady. When she'd finished there were tears in Mrs. Weasley's eyes, and Mr. Weasley looked like he'd been asked to swallow a Hungarian Horntail.

"Oh, my dear," Mrs. Weasley murmured, rising from her seat to pull Hermione into a tight embrace.

"Goodness," Mr. Weasley muttered, removing his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. "This is certainly a complicated situation."

"I'm so sorry for the trouble," Hermione whispered. Her face had gone pale. "I just—I didn't know what else to—"

"Oh none of that, Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley said soothingly. She turned to her husband. "Arthur, we have to do something."

"Almost be easier if Ron had gotten her pregnant," George said.

"George!" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley scolded together.

"Just trying to break the tension," George mumbled with wide eyes.

"We'll get this sorted, Hermione," Mr. Weasley assured. He gave Ron an appraising look. "And you two were just going to…go off and try to find them?"

Ron shrugged. "Not unless we had no other options, but if we had to…"

Mr. Weasley smiled. "Good man."

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"Oh, Molly, he's a grown man," Mr. Weasley said proudly, nodding to his youngest son. "He spent a year hunting Horcruxes and facing down Death Eaters. That he's willing to go to the other side of the world for Hermione…"

Harry wasn't sure it was possible, but Hermione and Ron both went even brighter red. Hermione sat perfectly straight, still in Mrs. Weasley's embrace while Ron busied himself pushing around the few remaining vegetables on his plate.

Mr. Weasley clapped his hands together. "Well, why don't we plan for that then?" he suggested. "We'll swing by the Ministry tomorrow morning, then head to Diagon Alley in the afternoon once we know what to expect, yeah?"

"I'll go too," said Charlie, drawing surprised looks from the table. He looked from his father to Percy. "It'd be helpful if one of you could get me in touch with someone at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I need to fast-track a letter to the dragon reserve in Romania.."

"Oh, what for?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Well, I've been thinking about that dragon you let loose from Gringotts," Charlie said, glancing at Ron as he rubbed his short-cropped hair. "Been reading the papers but other than the mention of it about you lot, no one's said a thing. Big dragon like that shouldn't be too hard to find though, and it definitely shouldn't be flying wild like that over the countryside."

"What do you think they'll do about it?" Percy asked, leaning forward, clearly interested in the Ministry angle.

"I'm going to ask the reserve for more time here," Charlie said, leaning back in his seat. "Enough time to help locate the dragon and figure out the best place to relocate it. Depending on its species, we might be able to keep it at a reserve here in Britain, but Romania might still be the best option."

"Oh, that's splendid, Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, her face lighting up. "It would be so nice to have you home longer."

"Hear, hear!" George said, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"Let's not get carried away," Charlie cautioned, trying to temper their enthusiasm. "It won't be permanent. Romania's reserve is still the largest in the world, and most of the work and research happens there." Mrs. Weasley nodded eagerly, clearly thrilled at the prospect of her wayward son staying closer to home. "But leading this kind of project would be a big step forward in my career and could open up new opportunities for me back in Romania."

"Wonderful!" Mr. Weasley patted his son on the back.

"Our children are all growing up, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes misting over as she dabbed at them with a napkin. "We're so proud of you all."

"Not that I'm complaining," Ron muttered, "but weren't you just yelling at me about getting Hermione pregnant?"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped and swatted him on the arm again. She glanced around the table pleadingly. "I'm not pregnant!"

Chuckling, George leaned over to Harry and Ginny conspiratorially. "Tomorrow's trip is shaping up to be absolutely bloody mental!" he whispered. "I can't wait."

"Ginny, that was mortifying," Hermione groaned, collapsing face-first onto her camp bed. She buried her face in her pillow and let out a muffled shriek of embarrassment. Ginny bit her bottom lip, struggling to keep from laughing at her friend's misery.

"Well you handled it…brilliantly?" Ginny offered unconvincingly. Hermione groaned louder, and Ginny thought for a moment before adding, "I don't think we've ever had a pregnancy scare in the family. Honestly, I think everyone handled it really well, don't you?"

"It wasn't a pregnancy scare!" Hermione shot upright, glaring at her. "It was your brother phrasing things in the most vague way possible and your parents interpreting those things in the absolute worst way!"

"It was bloody hilarious," Ginny said with a wicked grin as she flopped onto her own bed.

"Not for me!"

"Well obviously not," Ginny shrugged. "But if it helps, the rest of us thought it was brilliant."

"It doesn't."

Ginny shrugged again, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought the urge to needle her further.

"How could they think—Ron and I—" Hermione stammered, her face scarlet as she gestured vaguely with her hands. She looked to Ginny imploringly. "It's been—we've only been together two weeks!"

"It does seem like longer, doesn't it," Ginny mused. She tapped her lip thoughtfully. "You're certain you didn't get together before that? Maybe snuck off while you were hunting Horcruxes?" She dodged the pillow Hermione threw at her with a laugh. "Okay, okay. So… you two haven't…?"

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded, her face flushed with embarrassment. "He's—that's—your brother!"

"I'm just asking," Ginny said, raising her hands defensively. "Besides, who else are you going to talk to about this if not me?" She stood up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I could always go get Mum if you—"

"Don't you dare!" Hermione gasped, her eyes wide with horror. "You're a menace!" Despite the outrage in her voice, she was grinning from ear to ear.

Ginny collapsed back onto her bed, fighting the urge to laugh. "So…you and Ron?"

"We've only been together for two weeks!" Hermione repeated, flustered. "And at not exactly the most romantic of times."

Ginny nodded, she could certainly understand. It had taken her and Harry a while to get back into their rhythm after the battle as well. Navigating a transition from friends to something more, while dealing with all the changes, couldn't have been easy for Hermione and Ron.

"Well," Ginny said, "I think it made the whole Australia thing easier for them to swallow."

"Silver linings," Hermione muttered grumpily, but Ginny could tell she was more upset than she was letting on.

"Are you really that worried about it?"

"What if we can't get a portkey? What if we can't find them?" Hermione asked desperately. "What if we can and I can't fix what I did to them? And even if I do, what if…I changed their entire identities—"

"To protect them," Ginny interrupted gently.

"What if they don't see it that way? What if they don't forgive me?" Hermione sank into the camp bed, worry creasing her face. "I didn't even…I'm not sure I know how to fix it."

Ginny had to admire how she'd held it together for so long. Almost an entire year of pushing this worry to the back of her mind and focusing on helping Harry and Ron, and then focusing on being there for Ginny's family through their loss and grief.

Ginny crossed the room and sat beside Hermione on the bed. "If anyone can figure out how to do it, it's you," Ginny told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Same girl who brewed Polyjuice Potion as a second year, managed a double schedule with a time turner, figured out Rita Skeeter's secret, fought Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries, figured out the Deathly Hallows and how to kill a Horcrux…" Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "If I told you that girl was going with you to help set your parents right, would that make you feel better?"

Hermione fixed Ginny with an appraising look. "You would make a much better Quidditch Captain than Harry."

Ginny fell back laughing. "Not fishing for compliments, but I'll take it."

"Speaking of you and Harry," Hermione began with a conspiratorial grin. "Have you two…"

"What? No," Ginny said quickly. Too quickly, she realized a moment too late.

"Oh. Well you can't blame me for asking after all the grief I got tonight," Hermione said sternly. "Besides, with the way you were pining over each other, then together for a few weeks, and then pining for each other all over again…"

"You make me sound like a lovestruck little girl," Ginny mumbled grumpily.

"Well you didn't see Harry mooning over your dot on the map," Hermione pointed out.

"Ron told me," Ginny said.

Hermione scoffed affectionately. "Ron only noticed because I pointed it out." She fixed Ginny with a piercing look. "I just figured after all that time apart, you two would…"

Ginny shook her head. "No, nothing like—it's certainly gotten intense," she felt her neck and ears color, and couldn't help the grin that tugged at her lips, "but we haven't…" Ginny chewed her lip nervously. It wasn't that the thought hadn't occurred to her, and she was certain he'd thought about it, but she always assumed he'd have expressed his feelings towards her first.

"I think I love him," she said quietly.

Hermione froze, her eyes widening. "Really? Have you told him?"

Ginny felt herself flush, but shook her head "No," she admitted, her voice felt small. "It feels…big."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Not like—Hermione!" Ginny gasped scandalously. "Saying it feels bigger than anything I've said before. I don't know how he'll react." She hesitated, biting her lip again. "But sometimes, when he looks at me, or when he keeps me close like he did at the funerals…I feel it."

"How so?"

"It's just...it's kind of like how I feel around my family." Ginny shook her head. She felt she was doing a poor job explaining it. "Like when he met Teddy for the first time, after Remus and Tonks's funeral," she said, taking a breath. "He kept me close the whole time, like he needed me there. You should've seen the way he held Teddy—so careful, so protective. And he looked at me like..." she hesitated for a moment, "like I was part of it. Part of his family, too."

Hermione smiled softly, and Ginny powered on.

"And there've been moments—little ones—where I think he's about to say it, or wants to. Like, when we're together, when he's here at night, or when it's just us out in the orchard…but he never does."

"Ginny, I think he does love you," Hermione said. Ginny felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart was pounding. "But…Harry's not like most people in that regard. He's been through a lot."

"I know," Ginny said quickly. "I know he's been hurt. He lost his parents, and Sirius, and…but this is different. Isn't it?"

Hermione sighed, her voice soft and patient. "It's not just about the people he's lost, Ginny. It's about the life he had before Hogwarts—or didn't have. You know his relatives were awful to him, but he doesn't talk about just how bad it really was."

Ginny frowned and leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

Hermione hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Harry grew up in a house where he wasn't loved. The Dursleys…they didn't just neglect him. They went out of their way to make him feel unwanted. He's told us things over the years—little details that he doesn't even realize are…" She frowned, and Ginny could see a rare look of disgust on her face. "Vile."

Ginny's chest clenched. "Like what?"

"Like being locked in a cupboard for years. Or being punished just for existing," Hermione's bottom lip trembled. "He was treated like a burden. He was abused, and made to feel that it was his fault. That's not something you just...unlearn."

Ginny's stomach dropped. Her heart ached as she thought about Harry's quiet moments—the way he looked after everyone else, the way he always put himself last, like he didn't believe he was worth more. "I hate them for that," Ginny said fiercely. "He's Harry. He's kind and thoughtful and selfless. I hate that there are people out there who should have loved him but made him feel so worthless."

She looked around her room, small as it was. She thought about Percy, who had alienated himself from the family but had been welcomed back immediately. "I can't imagine…we've never had many things, but even when I was furious with them, I always knew my family loved me. That I could tell them that and they'd say it right back without a second thought."

"I don't think…" Hermione hesitated, fixing Ginny with a piercing look. "I don't know if anyone has ever told him they loved him."

"Ever?" Ginny's voice cracked.

"I'm sure his mum or dad when he was a baby, but after that...who?" Hermione asked, shrugging helplessly. "Sirius might've, I suppose, but I'm not sure." She looked down thoughtfully. "He was hard to get in touch with and…rather damaged himself. And the Dursleys—well…

"I don't think he's ever heard the words, 'I love you,' said to him," Hermione continued softly. She shook her head angrily. "Ron and I—we should have done more. Tried harder. But…we were just kids and there was so much else…"

"That's not your fault, Hermione," Ginny said, placing a hand on her knee.

"No, it's not," Hermione agreed, nodding. "But I still feel awful thinking about it. He's the closest thing I have to a brother and I never told him…" Hermione sniffed loudly. "He went to die, Ginny, never having heard someone tell him they loved him."

A long moment of silence stretched between them, and Ginny thought about Harry's confession; of how his last thought had been of her. He'd gone to die—to give his life in the hope of giving them a chance—having never heard "I love you" but thinking of her.

"I'm going to tell him," Ginny decided finally. She could feel Hermione's gaze snap to her. "And if he's not ready, that's okay. I'll wait. But I'm not going to let him go any longer without hearing it."

"So. That could have gone better," Ron muttered, collapsing into his bed.

Harry bit his cheek to keep from laughing and feigned ignorance. "Not sure what you mean, Ron."

Ron shot him an unimpressed look. "Don't give me that," he said. "That was probably the most mortifying dinner of my life, mate." He scrunched up his face. "And I've spent an evening vomiting slugs."

Harry stifled a laugh. "Better you than me."

"Oh just you wait," Ron growled, glaring over at Harry. "Soon as Mum and Dad figure out how you and Ginny are carrying on during your 'long walks in the orchard' you'll be getting it, too."

"We haven't—"

"That didn't help me," Ron sniped. Harry conceded the point with a grin.

Ron lay back with his arms folded behind his head. "So you're really going to be an Auror, eh?"

Harry dropped into the camp bed with a sigh. "Thinking about it," he admitted, then shook his head. "Well, more-than 'thinking,' I guess. Ginny helped me figure it out earlier today. Said I was talking about Hogwarts like I wasn't going to be there."

"She just wants to be Quidditch Captain," Ron said.

"She'd be better at it than me."

Ron looked ready to object but realization seemed to dawn on him. "Yeah, reckon you got a point," he said with a shrug. "She's bloody brilliant on a broom."

"You give next year any thought yet?" Harry dared to ask. Everything with the Weasleys was still so painfully raw. Dinner that evening was really the first time they had been able to talk about the future and their plans as a family; the first time he'd seen the spark return to them since…Bill's wedding, probably.

"Nah," Ron sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I still feel like there's too much to do. I feel like…like I'm being pulled in half a dozen different directions all at once. George's shop, Mum and Dad, Hermione's parents, you—"

"Me?" Harry goggled.

"Yes, you," Ron insisted, sitting up. "I'm not sure if you realized it, Harry, but we're bloody worried about you." Harry gave him a confused look. "You died, Harry. You snuck off and died. So yeah, Voldemort's gone, but we're worried about you all the same."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Hermione and I," Ron said, throwing up his hands. "Who else?"

"You don't have to worry about me," Harry insisted. He sat up as well. "I'm doing better, I promise."

"I know you are," Ron admitted with a sigh. "But you're too good at shoving down what you need to take care of other people. And I'm worried that if Hermione and I are off looking for her parents no one is going to notice if you're not okay."

"Ron," Harry said, his voice softening. "You guys don't have to do that alone. After everything you've done for me—"

"You've got other responsibilities here," Ron cut him off. "Mum and Dad can't stop me from going to help Hermione, but they'd never let Ginny go. She's not of age." Harry nodded. "And I'm not going to let you leave her. She needs you. Teddy needs you, too." Ron swallowed thickly, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "And…if I'm being honest. I need you here."

"Oh, so you're just looking to get Hermione alone on the other side of the world?" Harry teased.

Ron chucked a pillow at his head and it knocked his glasses askew. "That joke wasn't funny when Ginny made it, it's even less funny from you."

Harry hurled Ron's pillow back, but he caught it easily. Damn Keeper reflexes. "I trust you to be here for my family if I can't be."

Harry nodded. "Always, mate."

Ron frowned, his brow creased with worry. "I just…I'm torn, Harry." He fixed Ron with a curious look. "I think…I left you once when you really needed me. Last winter. I'm—I don't want to do that again."

Harry felt his gaze soften. He nodded in understanding. "You came back when I needed you, too."

"I know," Ron said with a sigh, his head dropping. "And I know we're good, but—"

"You broke her heart when you left, too," Harry pointed out. Ron swallowed down a grimace. "She's forgiven you, clearly. But I think…if you're serious about her—"

"Deadly."

"Then you need to go," Harry said. He smiled. "I've been watching your mum and dad—"

"Weird, but go on."

"Prat," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. "They back each other up. Even when they disagree they make sure they're never alone in it."

Ron nodded his understanding. "The three of us have been together every step of the way," he said.

"We still are," Harry said pointedly. "We just need to do these parts separately. You make sure that Hermione gets her family back. I'll look out for everyone here for you. Deal?"

Ron grimaced and gave a reluctant nod.

"Ron, if you don't go with her I'm going to hex you."

Ron sighed and shook his head, a grin finally finding its way onto his face. "Deal, mate."

Next Time: Chapter 9 - Broomsticks and Bank Statements

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I know I said I was going to spread out posts, but then I got some reviews that changed my mind!

I hope you enjoyed that little bit of humor at the end of this chapter. The post-battle grief and trauma is a LOT. It gets heavy, and Harry is a snarky bloke so it's hard to keep him in character through all that. Luckily there's a great section in DH where he breaks down his thought process walking to his death that really helped provide some framework for how he'd respond as an adult to these situations

And with that we have finally begun the next part of the story. The grief and immediate aftermath is over. Now the work begins.

Auror Harry? Quidditch Pro Ginny? But where will Ron and Hermione factor in?

Is Robards as up-and-up as Percy and Arthur believe? What broom will Harry get for Ginny? Take your best guesses, these chapters have been written for months already!