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SIYE Time:14:39 on 28th March 2024
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Rebuilding Life
By Kezzabear

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: General, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 1776
Summary: Harry has defeated Voldemort but is going back to his life going to be easy? What will he go back to, the life he once had is meaningless now. It's time to build a new one and to create a new post-Voldemort world. Ginny is there waiting for him, what do they need to do to rebuild their lives?
Hitcount: Story Total: 579779; Chapter Total: 17408
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
There are a few thank yous that need to be made at this point. I need to thank parakletos and Rachael for beta reading this for me, adding neccessary commas, making me articulate why the characters are doing what they are doing and going where they are going and making brilliant 'Harry should do/say this' suggestions.

Now you, the readers, need to join me in thanking the next set of people because without them you wouldn't be reading any more of this story.

goingbacktosquareone for being my cheer squad. Melindaleo for finding my muse - multiple times - and sending it back to me. Dan for patting me on the hand and reassuring me I don't suck. Wolfie for assuring me that even if I suck badly he still loves me. LadyChi for agreeing with them both and putting me in the crazy corner until I calmed down. And we should all thank Aggiebell for more!Neville ;) .

Oh and parakletos again for putting up with another ripper of a tantrum :D .




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Teddy was finally asleep after deciding that the early hours of the morning were play time. He’d spent the hour before dawn screaming his head off and Harry was exhausted. After one of the shortest night’s sleep in history, Harry wandered blearily down to breakfast, sat heavily at the table and propped his head on his hand. Ginny pushed a cup of coffee under his nose and sat down next to him, stroking his hair back from his face as she ate her cornflakes one handed.

“Teddy up most of the night?” she asked. Harry nodded; too tired to do more than inhale the coffee and hope he got a caffeine hit.

“Harry,” said Molly as she brought a plate of bacon to the table, “I really would be happy to take care of Teddy for you.” Harry tilted his head to look at her.

“Thanks Mum,” he replied, “but I want to do it. He’s my … guest and I guess I just want to take care of him.” Molly smiled at him fondly.

“Well, I’m here if you need me dear,” she said, patting him on the hand with a smile that said she was anticipating being needed and went back to the eggs still cooking on the stove.

“Me too,” said Ginny. Harry turned his head to look at her without lifting it from his hand. “I’d like to help.” Harry reached out his free hand to grab hers and smiled at her. He was about to tell her that he and Teddy were the luckiest blokes on the planet when Hermione stalked into the kitchen, Ron on her heels.

“Bloody hell, woman-”

“Language, Ronald!”

“- what did you go and do that for? I was just getting comfortable!”

“Well, Ron, in case you are not aware, my parents do not know we’ve grown accustomed to, er, snuggling in the mornings!”

“You’ve forgotten I was not aware of that dear,” said Molly matter of factly, from the stove where she was levitating scrambled eggs into a large serving dish. Hermione blushed heavily. “It’s not that I mind exactly, dear, but you are probably right to keep those sorts of activities private.”

“I do not want to discuss this with my mother,” muttered Ron under his breath as he slid into the chair next to Harry.

“Don’t discuss it with me either,” Harry mumbled back, contemplating if the coffee would be worth the effort of lifting it to his lips. He had just decided it would be when he heard a wail from the living room where Teddy had been put to sleep in Ron and Ginny’s old cradle. He sighed heavily and put the coffee back on the table. He was about to get up when Ginny put a hand on his arm.

“Let me go to him,” she said in a soft but firm tone. Harry was about to argue with her but she was looking at him with concern etched into every one of her features. “You need to eat something and then go back to bed.” She pushed a plate in front of him and piled it haphazardly with bacon and eggs before she darted out the door and into the living room. Teddy’s cries ceased and Harry could hear Ginny talking softly. He smiled as he ate his bacon and eggs because he thought he heard her start singing.

“Harry,” Hermione said quietly as he took the last bite of eggs, “do you have time to open our letters now?” Harry looked up at her in surprise. She seemed unaccountably nervous and was fidgeting in her seat.

“Sure,” he replied. “Let’s wait for Ginny?” Hermione nodded feverishly and her eyes darted to the mantelpiece. Harry saw three parchment envelopes propped between two of the ornaments and smiled slightly as he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs, treading on every creaky board.

“Good morning!” Mr Granger called cheerily. “You have a fabulous ghoul, Molly!” Ron stared incredulously at him and shook his head.

“We do need to find a place of our own though dear,” said Mrs Granger. “I don’t think we belong in a world with ghouls.” Harry got the distinct impression that Mrs Granger did not share her husband’s enthusiasm for magical spectres.

“Well there’s no need to worry about that yet, dear,” said Mrs Weasley, filling their plates. “Let’s get this lot sorted for Hogwarts before we worry about that. Is Percy’s room comfortable? I know it’s a bit of a squeeze. Fred and George’s room is a bit bigger of course but …” She trailed off and turned back to the stove. Harry heard a distinct sniff.

“Oh it’s just fine Molly, just fine,” said Mrs Granger, getting up and patting her on the shoulder. “We’d be honoured to stay, if it’s not too much trouble.” Molly turned and smiled brightly at her though her eyes were red.

“Well as soon as Ginny comes back,” Molly said, “we’ll open up those letters, shall we and see what sort of preparations we need to make.” She turned back to cooking the breakfast and the only sounds in the kitchen were scraping cutlery and the soft sizzling sounds of cooking bacon.

Harry was still tired and was debating whether or not to drink his coffee or go back to bed when Ginny came back in carrying Teddy. She had obviously searched the bags Harry had brought with him because Teddy was no longer in the clothes Molly had labelled pyjamas and handed him last night but something that Ginny obviously considered daywear. Harry was glad; he could never quite figure out what was what and more than once he’d had Andromeda and Ginny laughing at his attempts to choose Teddy’s wardrobe.

“Oh good, he’s dressed,” said Molly briskly as she bustled over to her daughter brandishing a bottle. “Did you change his nappy?”

“Eventually, yes,” Ginny nodded and took the bottle from her mother before settling into the small armchair squashed into the corner by the fireplace. “When Charlie finally got out of the bathroom. I am definitely having my own bathroom one day. I am over seeing you lot parading around in towels! Does he really think I want to see him flexing his freshly showered muscles?”

“I doubt you are over all of us flexing things,” muttered Ron, looking sideways at Harry, who felt himself blush profusely. Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron as she concentrated on settling Teddy for a feed, but there was a smirk on her face and she didn’t argue with him.

Harry propped his head on his hands and watched her as she smiled at Teddy and began making faces at him. When Teddy reached up a hand to grab her hair she laughed merrily and Teddy turned his own hair red. Teddy sucked noisily on the bottle and his fingers played with the ends of her hair. Ginny looked down at him and stroked his cheek, then played with his little toes. As Ginny sat with the baby in her arms, Harry could see a part of his future. It still amazed him that he had one and that Ginny would be willing to share it with him. He saw himself in the kitchen, cooking breakfast, while Ginny fed their son. If they fixed up Grimmauld Place, Ginny could have her own bathroom. The idea of Ginny in a towel was much more tantalising than Charlie in one. He watched as Ginny put down the empty bottle and sat Teddy up, rubbing his back. His eyes drifted downwards and his mind wandered to the way those curves felt under his hands and the thought of Ginny in a bathroom. He had to be roused from his daydream by Ron.

“Oi, stop drooling and open your letter!” he said, waving an envelope under his nose. Hermione was looking at hers as if it was about to explode and Ginny’s envelope lay on the table next to him, waiting for her to finish handing Teddy over to her mother and join them. Harry took the letter from Ron. It was curiously thin. Hermione was staring at hers and turning it over and over in her hands. Ginny picked hers up as she slid into her seat and tore it open in one swift movement, pulling the sheaf of parchment out and smoothing it onto the table.

“This is the last Hogwarts letter I’ll ever get,” breathed Hermione, staring at the envelope in her hands. Ron looked at Harry and shook his head before reaching out and capturing her hands in his.

“Open it Hermione,” he said softly. “Nothing bad is going to happen and you’ve been looking forward to this. Just open it.” Hermione shook her head and dropped the letter. Harry was sure that if Ron had not been holding her hands still they would have been shaking.

“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Ginny suddenly. “There’s no Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook!” This seemed to galvanise Hermione to action and she ripped open her own letter and pulled the contents out with haste and a small, glittering missile skittered across the table and landed in front of Harry.

“This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed as she scanned her own list. She hadn’t noticed the small, shiny item in front of Harry. He smiled as he turned it over to reveal a new Head Girl badge.

“Look!” he exclaimed, affecting a breathless falsetto and holding the badge aloft. “I made Head Girl!” Hermione’s head whipped up as she stared at the badge.

“Oh! Oh!” she squeaked she dropped the letter on the table and covered her mouth with her hands.

“I’m not sure it suits me,” muttered Harry as he held the badge up to his chest. Hermione made an indistinguishable noise halfway between a moan and a squawk. Harry grinned at her and held the badge out. She took it reverently. Ron and Harry exchanged a glance and smiled at her as she sat, speechless, the badge in her hand.

“Congratulations dear,” said Molly. “That’s wonderful! Oh you’ll do such a good job! Isn’t that wonderful?” She turned to Hermione’s parents who were beaming with pride and got up to hug their daughter. Ron plucked the badge from her fingers and pinned it to her chest before buffing it with a table napkin. Blushing, Hermione pushed his hand away.

“What’s the point?” said Ginny, tossing her Hogwarts letter across the table to her mother before reaching for the envelope and screwing it up. “Do they think there’s no need for Defence Against the Dark Arts? It’s not like He was the only evil wizard and now there are a whole bunch of kids out there know who know how to do Dark Arts!” she said viciously.

“Well, that certainly does seem odd,” murmured Molly as she read the letter, holding it at arms length to stop Teddy screwing it up. Ginny threw the envelope at the fireplace and it bounced off the grate with a clang. Ginny jumped out of her seat and ran to pick it up. She frantically pawed through the crumpled remains of the envelope to extract a Prefect badge just as George and Charlie came into the kitchen. George shook his head slowly.

“You’ve sold out, shorty,” he said sorrowfully. “Ickle Ginny’s a Prefect.” Molly swooped in to smother Ginny in a hug, little Teddy squawking as she did so and Mrs Granger plucked him free and handed him to Harry.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Molly. “I’m so proud of you dear!” Ginny smiled at her mother and patted her awkwardly on the back. Charlie and Arthur, who had arrived shortly afterwards, took turns hugging Ginny but she managed to catch Harry’s eye.

“Congratulations,” he mouthed at her. Ginny grinned at him and Harry wished they were somewhere else, so that he could congratulate her properly. The kitchen was a maelstrom of activity and Teddy was demanding Harry’s attention by reaching for his hair and glasses.

“You’ll have to behave now, ickle Ginny,” teased George. “I don’t think we can come to that arrangement concerning free Wheezes any more.”

“Aw, come on George, think of the free publicity!” she laughed. George lowered his voice and bent his head to hers conspiratorially.

“Should we be discussing this in front of the Head Girl?”

“I think she’s too busy to listen to our plans,” giggled Ginny. Harry glanced at Hermione. Ron kept trying to shine her Head Girl badge which was still pinned to her chest and Hermione was bright red with embarrassment and the effort of keeping his hand away.

“Stop it, Ron!” she said eventually, turning away from him. Ron merely grinned and slipped his arms around her waist, hugging her to him and nuzzling her neck.

“Open your letter, Harry,” said Hermione. Ron looked up interestedly.

“Yeah, open it mate,” he added. Harry handed Teddy back to Molly and picked up his envelope, tearing it open.

The kitchen gradually fell silent as Harry frowned at the small piece of parchment in his hand. Professor McGonagall had written him a short note that said nothing more than she requested his presence as soon as possible because she had something of import to discuss with him. Ron reached out and grabbed the envelope, tipping it upside down and shaking it futilely before peering inside.

“Where’s your badge, mate,” he asked. Harry shrugged, re-reading the short missive from Professor McGonagall and frowning.

“Professor McGonagall already gave him the Quidditch Captain badge, Ron,” said Hermione impatiently. “So I expect it’s up in your room.” Ron shook his head pityingly at her.

“Not that one, Hermione,” he said.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” asked Ginny. He looked up at her before handing her the letter.

“McGonagall wants to see me at her earliest convenience,” he said to the room at large. “I haven’t got a Hogwarts letter.” The explosion of noise was immediate and deafening.

“You haven’t got one?”

“I thought you were going back!”

“Good one Harry, called to the Head’s office before term even starts!”

“What do you mean you haven’t got a letter, dear?’

“This is just ridiculous! First there is no text for Defence and now Harry’s letter is missing!”

“What do you suppose she wants?” said Ginny as she looked up from the letter. Harry shrugged.

“Only one way to find out,” he said, watching Teddy lean his head on Molly’s shoulder and suck his fist.

“If you want to go today, I can look after Teddy,” Ginny said softly. She turned to Teddy and held her hands out to him. “You want to spend the day with Auntie Ginny? I’ll teach you how to turn your hair pink like mummy’s.” The baby gurgled and snuggled into Ginny’s shoulder as she took him from her mother.

“Don’t turn my godson’s hair pink,” said Harry absently as he retrieved his letter from where Ginny had discarded it on the table.

“I know!” exclaimed Hermione. “I expect Professor McGonagall didn’t want your letter intercepted. I mean who knows what could have happened. They’d know your movements then-”

“Hermione, the war’s over,” said Ron. “No one cares where Harry goes now.”

“Not according to Witch Weekly, mate,” said George who had been collecting the post from Errol at the kitchen window. The ancient bird fell off the draining board and Charlie shook his head and bent to retrieve the bird from the floor. “Witch Weekly appears to be very interested in where you go and what you do.” George was flipping through a magazine and eventually stopped, exaggeratedly staring at the page. Charlie, who was peering over his shoulder, let out a whistle.

“Oh, very nice smile, Potter,” he said grinning. Harry grimaced. “Oh look Ron, they got your best side!”

“Me?” squeaked Ron. “What have they got me for?”

“Top ten wizarding heroes of our time,” recited George. “Meet the men who have ensured our safety and security, ushering in a new era of peace.”

“What a load of bollocks,” muttered Ron mutinously.

“But Ron, you’re number two,” interjected Charlie, grinning. “Ronald Weasley, handsome, tall and quite possibly the nicest derrière around.”

“It does not say that!” Ron reached for the magazine and captured it easily.

“I bet it does,” muttered Hermione and Ginny giggled. Ron groaned. Harry took this to mean it did in fact mention Ron’s backside.

“Well, come on then, who are the other eight?” Molly asked. Harry shook his head resignedly as George plucked the magazine from Ron’s grasp and turned the page.

“Well, doesn’t Neville look nice,” said George with a cheeky grin. “Look at you three, beating the Minister into fourth place.”

“Yep, Kingsley’s number four,” said Charlie. “Very nice things they have to say about his voice.” George turned the page.

“Wow, Dad, you made number five!” Molly snatched the magazine from George.

“Oh and look at my Bill,” she said, beaming.

“What is the whole family in there?” asked Charlie. Molly turned the page.

“Well, George certainly is,” she said with some pride. George reached over and plucked the magazine from his mother’s hands. He looked at the page for only a moment before he screwed it up and hurled it across the room and stormed out the back door. There was stunned silence in the kitchen and then Ron tore out after him and Charlie slowly bent to pick up the crumpled periodical and smoothed it out on the table.

“This is a picture of Fred,” he said quietly after a moment. Molly sank heavily into the nearest chair.

“And I call myself their mother,” she said. “Not that I am their mother anymore, I’m just George’s mother.” She began to cry and Arthur hurried to her side. Hermione peered at the page.

“Well it does have George written in rather large letters,” she murmured. “Anyone would have said George automatically.” But this did nothing to stop Molly’s tears. Harry could see Ron and George through the kitchen window. Ron was talking frantically while George stood rigid and furious, his arms crossed over his chest. As Harry watched, Ron reached out a hand to George and it was if his touch made George crumble and Ron gathered his brother into his arms. Harry’s heart ached as he watched Ron hold George, his shaking shoulders giving away the fact that he was crying. Things were supposed to be getting better, the wounds were supposed to be healing but looking around him Harry felt emotions that were as raw as if the war had ended only days ago and not months.

Arthur held his sobbing wife while his sons stood crying in the garden and Ginny was sitting at the table staring at the picture of Fred and absently stroking Teddy on the head while the baby chewed on a fistful of her T shirt. Harry looked up at Charlie who met his eyes and shrugged helplessly. Hermione and her parents sat quietly at the table while Errol twitched feebly on the draining board.

“So, Harry, are you going to see McGonagall today then?” asked Charlie quietly.

“Um, yeah, I will,” Harry answered. “Should find out what she wants I s’pose.” Charlie nodded, the conversation dying once again. The only sound in the kitchen was Molly sniffling and Teddy making a sort of humming noise as he gummed his fist. Charlie began drumming his fingers nervously on the table and suddenly Ron banged back through the kitchen door.

“George is just, er, talking to Fred,” he said nervously looking at his mother. “I’m just getting one of the, um, files from his room and we’re going to the shop; going to reopen tomorrow.”

“Alright Ron,” his father said quietly. “We’ll see you at tea?” Ron nodded as he headed out of the room. Molly seemed to perk up as Ron bounded noisily up the stairs.

“Well, I’d best get started on tea then,” she said.

“Mum, we just finished breakfast,” Charlie said softly. Molly just looked at him.

“Do you really think, young man, that I can’t cook all day?” she asked him pointedly. Charlie smiled sheepishly and Ron returned brandishing a sheaf of parchment.

“You going to Hogwarts today, mate?” he asked Harry, who nodded. “Might see you at the shop tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there tomorrow,” agreed Harry. Ron nodded and headed back outside and Harry heard the faint sound of two Apparitions.

“I’m just going to um, contact Professor McGonagall,” Harry said into the awkward silence. Arthur nodded.

“Why don’t you use the Floo, Harry,” he said. “It will be quicker than an owl.”

After arranging to meet Professor McGonagall later that afternoon, Harry spent the morning lazing around The Burrow with Ginny and Teddy. Harry had discovered over the course of the summer that when he got restless, Teddy enjoyed going for a walk in the sunshine. Harry and Ginny took turns carrying him as they wandered aimlessly around the garden.

“I wonder why McGonagall didn’t send you a Hogwarts Letter,” said Ginny as she and Teddy watched Harry capture and throw a garden gnome out of the garden. Harry shrugged and held his hands out to take Teddy. Ginny wrinkled her nose at him. “Wash your hands first.” Harry cast Auguamenti to cleanse his hands and Teddy laughed at the stream of water, reaching out to touch it. Harry conjured more water and directed it so that Teddy could touch it. The baby flapped his hands in the water, splashing both Ginny and Harry.

“Thanks buddy,” said Harry wryly, as he wiped his glasses dry on the hem of his shirt. Teddy only squealed in response. Harry put his glasses back on and took Teddy from Ginny, blowing a raspberry on his tummy and immediately regretting it as pudgy fingers grasped the spectacles and pulled them off his face. After rescuing his glasses and turning Teddy to face outwards, so that his glasses were inaccessible, Harry returned to his earlier conversation with Ginny as they strolled into the orchard.

“McGonagall was the one who told me to come back to Hogwarts,” said Harry thoughtfully. “You don’t think she’s changed her mind do you?” Ginny shook her head.

“I doubt it, but I don’t understand,” answered Ginny. “Perhaps it’s like Hermione said, she didn’t want the letter intercepted.”

“What secrets would my Hogwarts letter hold?” asked Harry. “Dear Mr Potter, welcome back to Hogwarts, which is no secret because Luna put it all over The Quibbler. We’ll see you on September the first as you come off the Hogwarts Express, which is no secret because everyone does that every year. Go and buy this list of books from the same shops as everybody else so they are no secret either.” Ginny smiled and reached out a hand to stroke Teddy’s cheek.

“He’s asleep,” she whispered. Harry looked down at Teddy who had fallen sideways, his little head resting on Harry’s bicep and his arms and legs dangling forward. He watched as Ginny gently took Teddy from his arms and cradled him. Teddy stretched slightly in his sleep before curling into her chest and sighing. The sight of Ginny with a baby snuggled into her curves did something to his insides that he couldn’t quite identify, but he knew he didn’t want to talk about Professor McGonagall anymore.

Harry conjured a blanket and spread it out under a shady tree in the orchard. Ginny put the baby down carefully before settling herself next to Harry, patting Teddy when he stirred. Harry watched her again as her hair fell around her face and he reached out to pull it back. His hand found the back of her neck and with gentle pressure he pulled her towards him. He watched as her eyes closed but her lips still found their way unerringly to his. She pushed him backwards, her small hands splayed across his chest and his own eyes closed as he pulled her down with him.

“What about Teddy?” she asked, breaking the kiss. Harry pulled her back to him, his hands finding her hips and moving her bodily towards him. “Harry-”

“He’ll be fine,” he insisted, running his hands up her back and urging her lips back down to his. Ginny twisted away and a frustrated Harry let his head fall back onto the blanket. His earlier daydream had come back to him as he held her in his arms and he had been anticipating quite a bit more activity than that.

“You know I get all involved and … lost in you, Harry,” Ginny said, blushing only slightly.

“Do you just?” smirked Harry as he snaked an arm out to pull her back down. She placed a firm hand on his chest, stopping his progress.

“Harry,” she warned.

“He’s fine. He’s sleeping,” insisted Harry, propping himself up on one elbow and reaching for her neck with his lips. “I get lost in you too you know.” His efforts were thwarted as Ginny sat back on her heels. Harry flopped backwards in frustration.

“If we are … otherwise involved, how can we protect Teddy?”

“Protect him from what, Ginny?” sighed Harry. “He’s in the shade, Mum did a sunscreen charm on him and he has a hat on. He can only roll onto his tummy, then he gets stuck, so he’s not about to roll away.” He propped his head up on one hand and reached out to her with the other, entwining his fingers with his own.

“There’s someone out there, Harry,” Ginny whispered, leaning in close. “Someone is watching us.” Harry heard her but was unable to resist the opportunity to capture her lips with his own. He gently caressed her lips and gradually she melted into him. He had just reached those tantalising curves that had been beckoning him all morning when she pulled away suddenly.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered frantically, checking on Teddy who was still dozing peacefully on the blanket next to them.

“No, I didn’t,” Harry groaned.

“I heard something!”

“I know you did, Ginny,” Harry reassured her. “It’s probably some reporter or a photographer trying to get a story. They know where I live now. We should get Bill or Dad to ward The Burrow.” Ginny tilted her head to one side.

“You’re probably right,” she said, smiling. “Now I do believe we were just about … here.” But Harry kissed her for only a moment before he pulled away groaning softly.

“If it is a reporter or a photographer, the last thing we want them to see is … us … doing that,” he said, sighing heavily as he flopped back onto the blanket. Ginny flopped down next to him melodramatically.

“Shall I never get my way with you, Mr Potter?” she sighed. Harry laughed.

“Never say never, Weasley.” He grinned as he turned onto his side to face her, lowering his voice to a whisper. “In fact I’d say you have a very good chance of doing exactly what you please with me one of these days because soon I won’t be able to resist you. It’s that simple.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she answered, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and sitting up. Leaning against the tree trunk she stretched her legs out in front of her and patted her lap. “Here, a pillow, you need to catch up on some sleep.” Harry crawled over to her and laid his head in her lap, falling asleep to the gentle rhythm of her fingers stroking slowly through his hair.

He slept for most of the morning and only had time to grab a quick sandwich before kissing Ginny a hasty goodbye and dashing through the Floo. He had planned to Apparate, but Flooing straight into McGonagall’s office saved him some time.

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter,” said Professor McGonagall briskly as he stumbled out of the fireplace. Harry saw Kingsley Shacklebolt seated in a chair by the desk, a steaming cup of tea in his hands.

“Professor,” nodded Harry, “Kingsley.” He looked up instinctively at the portrait of Professor Dumbledore and saw the professor sitting upright in his chair, his eyes twinkling, as though waiting for the entertainment to begin.

“Have a seat, Harry,” said Professor McGonagall as she indicated a chair and poured him a cup of tea. Harry perched himself on the edge of a squashy armchair. The Professor rarely called him Harry and he had the undeniable feeling that she was warming up to ask him to do something he was not going to agree to willingly. That Kingsley was there was also curious, and he wondered why she had not mentioned that in their conversation earlier that morning.

“I’m not sure why I didn’t get a Hogwarts letter, Professor,” began Harry. “It’s causing a bit of concern at home.”

“Ah, yes, well …” Professor McGonagall trailed off uncertainly and took a sip of her tea. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

“The Board of Governors have given their approval for Hogwarts to reopen on September the first as usual,” said Kingsley. “They have, however, also made some, well recommendations, which we are obliged to follow. This has made some … aspects of the reopening difficult.”

“We don’t have a full complement of staff,” said Professor McGonagall. “One of the new provisos from the Board of Governors is that the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor be an Auror. They wish to eliminate any doubt that the person taking the post is, shall we say, trustworthy.” Harry just snorted and Professor McGonagall pursed her lips.

“I am afraid that Mr Malfoy is determined to make things difficult,” she said, sipping her tea.

“Malfoy!” exclaimed Harry in disgust. He turned to Kingsley. “How is it he can just waltz back onto the Board like that? I thought things would be different!”

“Money talks, Harry,” said Kingsley in an even tone that almost disguised the disgust that was evident on his face. “I have only so much influence on the Board.”

“So does the lack of a Defence Against the Dark Arts text book mean that there is no Defence Professor?” asked Harry and he got the distinct impression that Professor McGonagall was avoiding his gaze.

“It has not been easy to convince an Auror to take the position,” said Kingsley. “Nor to find one who is capable. Dawlish just didn’t seem an … appropriate choice.”

“We have managed to engage such an Auror, Mr Potter, however he has … conditions,” Professor McGonagall’s face and her lapse back into formal address betrayed the fact that she was not at all pleased with this arrangement but she obviously had no choice.

“I guess the conditions involve me then?” said Harry, annoyed. The war was over, Voldemort was gone and he still couldn’t get one normal year at Hogwarts. Something had gone wrong and the year hadn’t even started yet!

“He refuses to teach the Seventh Years if you attend the class,” sighed Professor McGonagall. “The man is utterly and completely intimidated.”

“But if he doesn’t teach the Seventh Years — that’s not fair!” Harry exclaimed. “I suppose that he will do it if I’m not in the class?” Professor McGonagall nodded her head slightly.

“A fact that I find utterly unacceptable as you will need the NEWT to commence Auror training,” said Professor McGonagall. “Rather than ask you not to take the subject, Kingsley and I believe we have come up with a suitable solution.” Harry just stared at the Professor.

“A solution?”

“Yes, Mr Potter, a solution,” she replied crisply. “I am asking you to supervise the time slot allocated to Seventh Year Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Harry stared at her.

“That’s … innovative,” he muttered, casting his mind about desperately for a way to avoid the situation.

“Not so much innovation Mr Potter, as desperation,” said Professor McGonagall. “Those students already know enough to pass their Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT. You taught the majority of them everything they know anyway.”

“But I’m not an Auror, so I can’t,” said Harry smugly. Kingsley solemnly handed him a small leather wallet. Harry took it at flipped it open. Inside was a gold disc about the size of a Galleon. His name was inscribed it below the words Provisional Auror.

“The Board of Governors might be able to make all sorts of arbitrary decisions about Hogwarts,” said Kingsley gruffly. “But I am able to make all sorts of arbitrary decisions about the Auror department.”

“Please, Harry,” pleaded Professor McGonagall. “If you don’t do this, you won’t be you won’t be on the NEWT course and if you’re not on the course, you can’t take the exam. Stupid, I know, but that’s the Ministry for you. And quite frankly, if Harry Potter doesn’t take Defence Against the Dark Arts it will undermine the entire course and we simply can’t afford to let the subject fall off the curriculum.” Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

“Besides, I like potential Auror Department Heads to have a Defence NEWT,” said Kingsley idly sipping his tea. Harry just stared at him.

“How am I going to find the time to do this?” he asked after a long silence broken only by the clink of McGonagall’s teaspoon on her saucer. “I’m going to have enough trouble with my own studies without doing lessons and things for other people!” Professor McGonagall looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“As I said Mr Potter, these students know enough to pass the NEWT,” she said patiently. “There is very little left to learn, it is all about the red tape. As I said, they have to take the course to be able to sit the NEWT. I did not say you had to teach them anything. Of course, if you should choose to teach, and require assistance, you do remember Hermione Granger, do you not?” Professor McGonagall took another sip of her tea and shuffled some paperwork on her desk. Harry looked up at the portrait of Professor Dumbledore behind her head. His eyes were still twinkling but he did not speak. Harry scowled at the portrait and turned to Kingsley.

“So, if I agree to do this, what … you make me some sort of part time Auror?”

“Well I might have made up a new Auror category,” said Kinglsey, not looking him in the eye. “The Board was very specific that the Defence Against the Dark Arts supervisor had to be employed by the Auror Department. They did not exactly specify in what capacity.” Harry looked at the wallet in his hand, turning it over and inspecting the back.

“This is already engraved,” he said slowly as he rotated it. “Were you that sure I would agree?”

“Albus was,” said Kingsley shortly. He looked as though he had just lost a bet and if Harry looked carefully he could see the ghost of a smile on Professor McGonagall’s lips. Harry sighed as he turned his attention to Dumbledore who was sitting upright and expectant in his chair.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he said. “Just to get us all through the red tape; I’m not doing any teaching.” Professor McGonagall smiled and Kingsley sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. She fished a parchment envelope out of the top drawer of her desk. “You might need your Hogwarts letter.” She came around the desk to hand it to him as he stood. He tucked it into a pocket until he could get home and open it with Ginny.

“I’ll see you on September first, Professor,” he said. “Would it be alright if I stopped to see Hagrid on the way home?”

“Of course, Mr Potter,” Professor McGonagall replied. “I am sure Hagrid would be most pleased to see you.” Suddenly Harry found himself engulfed in a hug. It lasted only a moment and the stern woman he had come to know was back, self consciously straightening her robes.

“Off you go then Potter, I have work to do,” she said briskly as she bustled back to her desk. Harry just smiled as he pushed the heavy doors open and made his way down to see Hagrid.

There was little evidence in the castle that a battle had ever taken place there. Walls had been repaired, paintings rehung and suits of armour had been set back in place. Harry toyed with the idea of going up to the Seventh Floor to see the Common Room but the events of that morning were too fresh in his mind and he had no desire to go near the Seventh Floor corridor where Fred had died. He hurried down to the Entrance Hall, ignoring the portraits that called out to him and headed out into the sunshine. Thestrals flew above the Forbidden Forest and he noticed Hagrid at the edge of the Lake. It looked like he was fixing a small boat. Fang gambolled around the lawn nearby and Grawp was watching him intently. Harry called out to Hagrid as he changed direction but before he’d gone too far Fang had run him down and was licking his face. Harry, pinned to the ground by the massive dog, screwed up his face as he tried to fight Fang off.

“Fang! Back off ye great dozy thing!” bellowed Hagrid. “Sorry Harry!” Having managed to push Fang off with some difficulty, Harry cleaned himself off as best he could with some well placed cleaning charms and made his way to Hagrid who engulfed him in a hug.

“Hello, Hagrid,” wheezed Harry. “Hello Grawp! What’re you doing?” Harry could see now that Hagrid had a pile of little boats and with a start he realised they were the boats that the First Years came to Hogwarts on.

“Fixin’ th’ boats up,” said Hagrid as he effortlessly flipped one over and began inspecting it. “Only realised yesterday that the storage shed got hit by a few stray spells. Professor McGonagall seems a bit worried that they’ll sink. Took pains ter tell me she didn’t want any Firs’ Years drownin’. As if I’d let any of ‘em drown. I got long enough arms to fish anyone out.” Hagrid shook his head as he inspected the next boat.

“Well, it’s probably best, you know, to fix them,” said Harry feebly.

“You all set fer comin’ back ter ‘Ogwarts then Harry?” asked Hagrid suddenly. Harry looked up at him in surprise. Hagrid sounded worried.

“Well, I only just got my letter, so I have a bit of shopping to do I expect,” he said. “I can’t see any problems though.” Hagrid looked at Harry seriously.

“You’re goin’ to keep yer nose outta trouble this year aren’t yer?” he asked. “If I find ye in that Forest I’ll haul yer inter detention meself.” The large man was looking suspiciously moist eyed.

“Well I’ve never just gone in there on a whim!” protested Harry. “And you’ve actually dragged me in there before!”

“Jus’ you stay out of that Forest, Harry,” insisted Hagrid. He was looking distressed and suddenly Harry realised why Hagrid was so adamant he not go near it. Harry had not considered the impact of that last terrible battle on Hagrid. He reached up and patted Hagrid on the elbow.

“I’m sorry Hagrid,” he said. “Of course I’ll stay out of the Forest. In fact I’m going to stay out of trouble entirely this year. I’ll be a model student, you’ll see. Life will be peaceful and quiet.”

“Don’ go gettin’ carried away Harry,” said Hagrid. “There’s gotta be some room for mischief.” He winked, his solemn mood obviously forgotten.

“Well I’m sure Ron and George can help me there,” Harry smiled. Hagrid wiped his suspiciously wet eyes and patted Harry on the back so hard that he toppled into Fang who thought it was a new game. Hagrid had to haul him out from under the huge dog and Harry looked ruefully at his bedraggled robes.

“You’d best get home and tidy up I ‘spect,” said Hagrid, his giant hands clumsily straightening Harry’s collar so forcefully Harry thought he might choke. “Don’t need young Ginny seein’ yer like tha’.”

“I’ll see yer at the start of term, Harry,” Hagrid finished and Harry bid him and Grawp goodbye before ambling up to the gates and Apparating back to The Burrow.

The sun was low in the sky and the shadows were lengthening as he pushed open the kitchen door to find Hermione and Neville sitting around the kitchen table and Molly bustling around the stove. He’d been at Hogwarts a while and judging by the smells it was nearing tea time.

“Hi Neville,” greeted Harry as he pushed the door shut.

“Oh Harry, you’re back!” exclaimed Hermione. She still had her Head Girl Badge pinned to her shirt. And Harry smiled to himself. “What did Professor McGonagall say? Have you got a letter? Did you ask her about the Defence text book? How does Hogwarts look? Will it be ready in time for the start of term? Did you see Hagrid, or Grawp?” Harry smiled at her enthusiasm.

“I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you,” he said laughing. “Where’s Ginny?”

“She took Teddy for a walk,” said Hermione. “I really don’t understand why she wouldn’t let her mother do it. We were getting so much done in our little meeting.”

“Meeting? What meeting?”

“I dropped by to see Teddy and the Head Girl here managed to rope us both into an impromptu Prefect meeting,” said Neville. Harry tried to hide a smile.

“So you’re the other Seventh Year Prefect then?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, and Gran is ever so proud,” said Neville, grimacing slightly.

“That’s fantastic Neville,” said Harry dropping into a seat. “I think Ron’ll be pleased. Since he’s not going back with us, it should be you. Who are the others? Do we know?”

“Oh yes, I have a list,” said Hermione fishing through the pile of parchment in front of her. “I don’t know who the Head Boy is. I thought he’d be on there. I really do think it is remiss of Professor McGonagall not to let me know. There’s a lot of things to plan and I have less than two weeks. What if I don’t like him? What if we can’t get along? I was worried it would be Malfoy, since he was Head Boy last year, but he’s the Slytherin Prefect.” She scanned the list before passing it to Harry.

“Malfoy’s coming back? And he’s a Prefect?” asked Harry in disgust, as he scanned the list. “That’s about as welcome as the fact that his father’s still on the Board!”

“He is?” exclaimed Hermione. She shook her head. “I know he stayed out of Azkaban, but on the Board? How does this world work?” Harry shrugged.

“Kingsley says money talks,” he said bitterly.

“You saw Kingsley?” Harry was about to answer when a scream ripped through the air.

“Ginny!” exclaimed Neville as he bolted from his seat. Harry didn’t have time to wonder that Neville could tell so swiftly that it was Ginny screaming because he reached the door quicker than Neville and the three of them hurtled out into the late afternoon sunshine, Molly on their heels. He could hear Dora barking frantically in the orchard before the screaming suddenly ceased and the dog began to whimper. Between the whimpers he could hear Teddy crying.

Without wasting breath shouting Ginny’s name Harry ran for the orchard. He leapt over a low stone fence in his way and skidded around a hedge to find Ginny on the edge of the orchard, curled protectively around Teddy as a burst of red spell fire shot out of the shadows, making her scream again. He couldn’t get a clear shot at whoever had the Cruciatus curse trained on her so he cast the strongest shield charm he could and hoped that it would interrupt the spell. or disturb the intruder, anything really, he wasn’t fussy. The spell ceased and Harry saw a shadow dart through the trees at the edge of the orchard. Ginny stopped screaming and her mother pushed frantically past Harry. Harry and Neville took off after the shadow in the trees.

Their quarry was not particularly adept at keeping quiet and Neville and Harry had them cornered within minutes. Coming around a tree, Harry cast a stunning spell and Neville threw an Expelliarmus blindly past the tree. A black robed figure fell face down spectacularly while a wand went spinning through the air, narrowly missing Neville’s head. Both of them were panting heavily as they pushed the offender over with their feet so that they could see their face. A comatose Gregory Goyle lay at their feet.

“I might’ve known it was him,” spat Neville. “He never could hold that curse for very long.” Harry looked at Neville in horror.

“He what?” he croaked.

“Oh he’s good enough at it I suppose, but Crabbe could hold it longer,” said Neville sounding suddenly worn out.

“Good enough?” echoed Harry faintly. Neville shrugged.

“Might be the most disgusting curse on the planet but you can still be good at it,” he said, kicking Goyle and then levitating him and directing him through the orchard back to where Ginny was. Harry was not certain that Neville was trying to miss the trees as Goyle was hitting them with alarming regularity.

Harry’s heart leapt into his throat when they got back to where they had left Molly, racing to Ginny. For a moment he felt guilty for leaving her alone to pursue Goyle, but this was pushed aside when the logical part of his brain reassured him that her mother was with her, and she hadn’t been alone. The orchard was considerably busier than when Harry had left it to dash into the trees. Hermione was crouched over Dora, stroking the still whimpering Creeler, Mr and Mrs Granger had obviously heard the commotion and Mrs Granger was soothing Teddy while Charlie was conversing in low tones with her husband. Ginny was lying still and unconscious in her mother’s arms. Harry heard the distant crack of several Apparitions as he raced to her side. A loud thump let him know that Neville cancelled the levitation spell on Goyle rather suddenly while he was still some way above the ground.

“Is she — is she alright?” asked Harry quietly as he fell to his knees beside Ginny. He took one of her hands in his, it was cold. “Ginny?” She remained unresponsive and Harry blinked back the tears gathering in his eyes.

“She’s breathing,” said Molly, her voice wavering. “She probably needs a Healer.” Harry was dimly aware of several more people joining them as he stroked Ginny’s cheek, smoothing the hair off her face and kissing her forehead gently.

“What happened?” said Arthur as he knelt beside Harry and reached out to his daughter.

“G-Goyle,” said Harry, starting to shiver despite the warm sunshine. Arthur slipped an arm around his shoulder then but the quiet was shattered by a shout from Ron.

“Malfoy!” he bellowed. “What are you doing here, you scum?” Harry jumped at the sound of Ron’s voice and whirled around to see Ron, his wand drawn and pointed menacingly at Malfoy’s chest. George was holding him back. Harry had no hesitation in joining him and Neville hovered near his elbow. Malfoy suddenly looked rather intimidated and throwing up his hands, he began stammering.

“I — I was l-looking f-for Goyle. He — he’s gone a bit … barmy.”

“Barmy? What do you mean, barmy?” demanded Harry, his wand ending up only inches from Malfoy’s chest as he advanced on him.

“Well, I told you he was touched in the head, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve known that since first year,” said Ron impatiently, waving his wand about dangerously. Malfoy shook his head.

“No, I mean more touched,” said Malfoy looking a little more relaxed. “You’re looking a bit barmy yourself there, Weasleby.” Ron growled and flourished his wand near Malfoy’s head.

“But what are you doing here? asked Harry.

“I told you, I was looking for Goyle,” said Malfoy impatiently.

“Why here?” asked Harry viciously.

“I’m not answering any of your questions,” scoffed Malfoy. “You can’t detain me like some criminal.” Harry, keeping his wand trained on Malfoy turned his head slightly to check on Ginny and saw that George and Charlie were standing behind him and Ron.

“Oh yes I can,” Harry snarled as he watched Ginny’s head loll back as her father pulled her into his arms and her mother conjured a wet cloth to sponge her face. “But I don’t want to deal with you right now, I have better things to do, so out with it. Now!”

“Come on, out with it,” repeated Ron menacingly. “Why is Goyle here and why is he using my sister for target practice?” Malfoy looked at Ron disdainfully until Harry let out a low growl.

“It’s because of Crabbe,” Malfoy sighed. Harry drew his brows together in confusion.

“Crabbe’s dead,” he said bluntly.

“I realise that, Potter. I’m not an idiot,” sneered Malfoy. Harry flourished his wand under Malfoy’s nose for good measure. “That’s what sent Goyle barmy. How is this not clear to you?”

“Well, you don’t seem barmy,” said Neville. “Why’s it sent him ‘round the twist?”

“You’d better start explaining, Malfoy,” Harry spat. “Like I said, I’ve got better things to do than talk to you.”

“He’s gone mad with grief. He wants to avenge Crabbe’s death,” said Malfoy a trifle sullenly. “He blames you.”

“But Crabbe started that Fiend Fyre!” Ron yelled. “Harry saved your sorry ar-behinds!” Malfoy looked at him scathingly.

“Obviously you don’t understand love, Weasleby,” he said. “Such a touching article about your family here and the Mudblood, I thought you would have understood his motivations.” George let Ron’s arm go and Ron had his wand at Malfoy’s throat before Harry could move, pushing the Slytherin against a tree.

“Don’t you ever say that again,” he hissed menacingly. “You will apologise to Hermione. Right. Now.”

“Sorry Granger,” squeaked Malfoy, rather pathetically in Harry’s opinion, but it was enough for Ron to let go of his shirt. Harry had been considering Malfoy’s claim while Ron was menacing him.

“Are you saying Goyle’s trying to get revenge on me, for Crabbe’s death?” he asked Malfoy, who nodded. “So he’s doing that by targeting Ginny? Why?”

“Because the Weaslette is the woman you love,” said Malfoy simply, eyeing Ron’s wand which was still dangerously close to his left ear.

“But why not just target me?”

“I have to spell it out for you, don’t I?” Malfoy sighed. “Dumbledore wasn’t the only fruit on the Hogwarts tree.”

“Huh,” said George after a prolonged silence. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

Harry hadn’t given much thought to the love lives of his professors and certainly not to Goyle’s. He wasn’t surprised by Malfoy’s revelations, just startled that it had been revealed in that way at this time. He heard Ginny groan from behind him and turned. Arthur was doing his best to reassure her as he knelt on the ground, her small body cradled in his arms.

“You’re alright, Ginny, you’ll be alright,” Arthur whispered and Harry wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Ginny or himself.

“Teddy?” Ginny whispered frantically.

“He’s fine, shhhh,” whispered Molly. Something inside Harry just snapped.

“I don’t care if he lost the love of his life!” spat Harry. “There’s been enough! The war is over, it’s been ENOUGH! I won’t have anyone hurting anyone else I love! I won’t lose anyone else because of this stupid war! It’s over and I’ve paid a big enough price. I won’t pay anymore!” He advanced on Malfoy and Ron must have seen either a dangerous glint in his own eyes or the fear in Malfoy’s because he grabbed Harry’s arm.

“Let’s just call the Aurors, Harry,” he said. “Let them deal with it.” Harry felt Neville grab his other arm but he shook them both off and took a step closer to Malfoy.

“Yeah, I don’t have to answer any more of your questions,” Malfoy’s voice wavered only slightly. “I’m not talking till you call an Auror.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m already here,” Harry said, his voice cold, calm and menacing. He fished in his pocket for the small wallet Kingsley had given him that afternoon and flipped it open, shoving the gold disc in Malfoy’s face. The other man’s jaw dropped. Harry tossed the wallet to Ron who let out a low whistle. Harry whirled around to train his wand on Goyle.

“Don’t hurt him!” shrieked Malfoy suddenly. “He’s the only friend I have left!”

“Harry …” Ginny’s voice was barely a whisper but it cut right through Harry’s fear and diffused his simmering anger. He whirled around.

“Don’t, Harry,” she said. “It’s over, let it be over.” With sudden clarity Harry saw that Malfoy had lost things in the war too. The Malfoys might have managed to worm their way out of Azkaban. They might still have money and influence but Draco Malfoy seemed a shadow of his former self despite his bluster and bravado.

As Harry looked around, he was reminded that he was surrounded by those he knew to be friends and his family. Malfoy said he had only one friend left. Harry, without effort, could influence anyone from a bus conductor to the Minister. Malfoy’s father sought to retain his tenuous hold on power and influence by trying to throw his weight around and draining the family coffers. Harry had to stop a grin appearing on his face as he realised that if he wanted to, he could turn all of these things to his advantage. There would be few repercussions if he damaged Gregory Goyle, but then if he used his influence to flout the law, was he any better than the Malfoys?

Harry glanced at Ginny; she was pale but her eyes pleaded with Harry not to do anything. They held a mixture of apprehension and surprise. Instinctively he knew that if he did anything further the apprehension would translate into fear; fear of him, and the surprise would be replaced with sorrow. There were some repercussions he couldn’t and didn’t want to live with.

Harry lowered his wand slowly as he held Ginny’s gaze. The battles might be over, the war might be won but there was still a lot of fighting to do. The kind of fighting that kept the peace. Kingsley was already starting to change things and Harry was pleased that he was going to do his part. He was going to start with helping out at Hogwarts and if he could do something about Lucius Malfoy’s influence on the Board while he was at it, then so much the better.

“Someone had better call Kingsley,” he said quietly and put his wand in his back pocket. In a few short strides he was kneeling at Ginny’s side and gathering her into his arms.

“Are you alright?” he asked, searching her pale face intently.

“Teddy, is he okay? I tried to shield him,” Ginny whispered frantically. Harry nodded.

“He’s fine, he’s okay,” he said, pressing a kiss onto her head before he buried his face in her hair.

After several minutes Harry realised vaguely that Arthur had left and Molly got up slowly muttering something about tea. Whether she meant the meal or a strong cuppa Harry did not know. She stroked her daughter’s hair before kissing Harry on the head and walking heavily away. That her parents left Ginny with him right then spoke volumes to Harry and if he’d had any doubts about their approval they would have been banished by those simple acts. Ginny clung to his shirt and he instinctively rubbed her back as he knelt on the grass in the orchard, the remaining sunlight shining in horizontal beams through the trees. He ignored the rustling activity he could hear behind him. It sounded as though Bill and Fleur had arrived because he could hear the French woman’s voice. They stayed silent for several long minutes before Ginny stirred.

“Dora?”

“I don’t know,” answered Harry. He heard a quiet footsteps swishing through the grass behind him and then Bill’s voice.

“Dora’s fine,” he said. “Hermione and Ron are taking her to the Magical Menagerie to be sure.”

“Thanks,” croaked Harry. A sudden thought crossed his mind. “Where’s Teddy?”

“Fleur’s taking him home,” said Bill. “Don’t worry, Harry. It’s all taken care of. Dad summoned Kingsley to deal with those two idiots. All we need to do is bring Ginny inside. I think Mum wants to check her over.”

“I don’t need checking over or bringing,” huffed Ginny. “I can do it.” She futilely struggled to sit up for a minute before Harry picked her up and sat her in his lap, resting his forehead on hers.

“I’ll bring you,” he said softly. “You can’t possibly walk after that.” Ginny looked at him mutinously.

“I’m fine,” she said grouchily. “It wasn’t even a particularly good Cruciatus.” Harry blanched at the casual way she said it.

“What do you mean?” demanded Bill. “How can you tell what a good Cruciatus is?” Ginny shrugged.

“Crabbe’s were always better than Goyle’s, so really, if you had a detention you kind of hoped for Goyle,” she said matter of factly. “His usually don’t do more than tickle. Seamus just used to yell louder for effect. Those dopey Death Eaters thought Goyle was better at it than Crabbe, so he always got given the Gryffindor detentions. Something had Goyle fired up today though. That actually hurt.” Harry just stared at her in horror.

“How many of these detentions have you had Ginny?” asked Bill quietly. Ginny shrugged.

“Well we mostly kept our noses clean in class,” she said. “Not that many. Snape sent me to Hagrid most of the time. I only really had that three week one.” Harry remembered the time she had showed him the photograph, the time Snape had been so angry that he not sent her to Hagrid.

“So, how many, Ginny?” asked Bill again.

“Well three weeks is twenty one days, Bill,” she answered sarcastically. “Perhaps you can figure out the maths?”

“Twenty one days straight?”

“Yes, Bill,” she rolled her eyes. “That is what three weeks usually means. Look, I don’t want to talk about this. Can we just go inside?” Harry nodded and Bill picked her up from his lap so that he could stand. It was by silent agreement that Bill handed her back to his waiting arms. The three of them made their way to the house, Bill hovering protectively. As they neared the back door Kinglsey came out with Malfoy. Another Auror trailed after them, levitating a still unconscious Goyle.

“Where’re you taking them?” asked Bill as they joined Kingsley on the back steps.

“He’s going to St Mungo’s to be assessed,” answered Kingsley, indicating the unconscious Goyle. “Young Mr Malfoy here is coming in to explain to us why he didn’t inform us that Mr Goyle was stalking Miss Weasley during the last twenty four hours.”

“I told you someone was watching me,” said Ginny triumphantly as the three of them went inside. She insisted on being put down once inside and Harry eventually acquiesced and placed her gently on the floor just inside the living room. She took only one step towards the couch before sinking gracefully to the floor, her knees hitting the worn carpet as they gave way. Molly gasped and Harry dropped to his knees beside her.

“Ginny,” he said, reaching for her hand. She jerked away.

“Don’t,” she whispered in a strangled tone. Harry reached out to her anyway, putting one hand on her cheek and turning her face to look at him. He was startled to see the tears glittering in her eyes. She continued, whispering softly, “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” said Harry, stroking his thumb on her cheek. “You need to see a Healer.” Ginny closed her eyes. Harry pulled her to him and looked over her head at Molly who was wringing her hands and looking sorrowfully at her daughter.

“I’m fine,” insisted Ginny in a stronger voice. “I just need a bit of a rest.” Neville snorted. Harry hadn’t noticed him standing by the fireplace.

“Come off it Ginny-”

“Neville,” warned Ginny in a low tone.

“No,” he answered forcefully. “You know as well as I do this is serious. It took three weeks of detention before that happened last time.” Ginny glared at him.

“This has happened before?” asked Arthur softly. Ginny looked away and Neville nodded.

“Madam Pomfrey warned her that this might happen,” he said quietly. “That’s why we always covered for her after that, me and Seamus mostly. Cruciatus usually takes your mind but Crabbe and Goyle didn’t have much finesse and it affected her nerve endings. I got caught hanging about outside, waiting for her detention to finish after a week. So I had to wait in the Common Room. When she didn’t come back after the last detention I went looking for her. It was a good thing she was near the Hospital Wing because it wasn’t something I could fix with a simple healing charm. Don’t be stupid, Ginny. You know a Healer can probably fix it with a potion.” Molly knelt in front of Ginny and reached out to smooth the hair from her face. Ginny flinched.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” she murmured. Ginny shrugged, studying her fingernails. Harry could practically feel the embarrassment rolling off her in waves. “If we knew-”

“Well I didn’t exactly expect to run into a Cruciatus curse going about my peaceful daily existence, did I?” she eventually spat. “It’s not something that happens to most people.” Harry had a sudden vision of Ginny trembling in his arms after spell fire had sizzled over her head in Origin Alley. Battle was one thing but curses coming at you while going about your daily life were quite another.

“Let’s get you to St Mungo’s,” said Arthur softly and Harry could hear the pain in his voice. Harry wiped away a single tear that fell down Ginny’s cheek. “We’ll Apparate from outside.” Harry stood up wordlessly and gathered Ginny into his arms before following Arthur and Molly outside.
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