SIYE Time:13:28 on 2nd December 2024 SIYE Login: no | | |
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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 8
Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years ***
As the reign of Voldemort ended, the life of Harry Potter began. Through the ruins of the war, our favorite Wizards and Witches attempt to make sense of the lives they must lead.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4004
Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.
Author's Notes: Chapter One of a hopefully successful story. Please not that authors are always desperate for reviews. It’s a chemistry thing that involves nitrogen, bonds and a desire for love…. Don’t ask. So… review!
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Harry rolled over slowly onto his stomach, fully oblivious to his surroundings. He pulled his arms tight around the pillow under his head, and made himself comfortable once more. His foot slid up along the bed and stopped against his other leg and he once again buried himself in the soft pillow.
He was walking peacefully along the magnificent lake of Hogwarts. There was no wind, so the water was as flat as glass, and the reflection of water was crystal clear. The moon hung harmlessly in the sky, lighting up the space around it quite beautifully. The stars which lit up the rest of the sky sparkled brightly, as though their flames were renewed.
His body was shaken gently, but he continued to ignore the jerks against his side, only pulling his knees closer to his body and repositioning his head on the pillow. He turned himself onto his side, now resting himself on his hip.
The night was silent, but not eerily so, as were the nights of the previous year. The silence was calming and reassuring, almost as if it promised him repayment for the unforgettable horror of the year before.
The shaking had become more intense and the water of the pond began to ripple. He paused slowly and turned to face the suddenly disturbed water, gazing unknowingly at the tiny waves spreading across the surface…
He faintly registered the fact that he was groaning quietly, yet ignored this and the increasing outside annoyance by putting an arm over his head.
He stood still, quietly staring at the quivering water, wondering what on earth caused the water to move so. He had been beginning to rather enjoy the calming effects of the sheet of water and comforting silence.
“Harry…” whispered the voice, rather loudly.
“Harry.” Another shake was issued, and the layers of blankets were slid off of his body.
Harry slowly lifted his head and opened his heavy eyelids. His vision was blurred and consumed by maroon. He used his arms to slowly heave his torso up, turning to sit. Molly Weasley stood before him, a look of concern on her face.
“Harry dear,” she spoke cautiously, “how are you feeling?”
Harry didn’t answer, but looked around the room instead. After a moment of thought, it registered to Harry that he was in Ron’s room, which meant he was in The Burrow. His eyes stopped unseeingly on a particular poster before moving back to Mrs. Weasley.
He looked at her, mildly confused. “I’m sorry, what did you say, Mrs. Weasley?”
Molly’s nervous expression changed to a concerned one. “How are you feeling, Harry?”
Harry looked at her for a second, and began to form a sentence to ask her what was wrong, but the memories suddenly returned. He remembered the Horcruxes, Hogwarts, the Elder Wand, and the Final Battle. His jaw fell slightly as he recalled the past, and his eyes drifted back up to Mrs. Weasley.
“How long?” asked Harry softly.
Mrs. Weasley looked at him sympathetically, reaching her hand out to place onto of his. “Three days, Harry. It’s been three days.”
Exhaustion, greater than he had been feeling recently, suddenly swept over him. His eyes suddenly became heavier than he could manage, and his last sight was Molly’s understanding nod before he fell back to his pillow and slipped into another deep sleep.
.~.-`.-`-.~.
Again, Harry found himself twisting gently underneath the sheets, the gentle warmth of the blankets kept him in a lulling sleep; one which he had no desire to awaken from.
With entire disregard to his longing to sleep soundly for at least a few quiet lifetimes, Mrs. Weasley continued to shake him gently, her quiet muttering incoherent to his jumble of thoughts; which were also a fuzzy mystery to him.
Eventually, he managed prop himself up in the bed and was met with the blurry outline of an unmistakable Molly Weasley. He glanced around helplessly until Mrs. Weasley caught on and handed him his glasses.
As his vision gradually improved and Mrs. Weasley came into focus, Harry was able to scrutinize the room. He was obviously in Ron’s room. That much he remembered. He also remembered that he’d been sleeping for several days, which quickly led to his next though: thirst.
He glanced up at Mrs. Weasley and attempted to request a glass of water, but all that came of was a raspy cough. She threw her hand to her chest and reached over to a nearby surface and handed him a glass from its surface; it was quickly downed by Harry, who placed it back on the table.
“Thank you,” he muttered, slightly more audibly. She responded with a quick nod and turned her attention to the pillows behind him. She fussed over the pile of pillows for a moment and quickly turned her attention back to him.
“Harry, dear,” she whispered, “how are you feeling?” Her voice flowed with concern and her eyes stared into his softly.
The only response Harry was capable of was a slow nod, which seemed to be enough for her. She waved her wand absent-mindedly towards the glass and handed it, now full, back to Harry. He took it gratefully and sipped its contents slowly this time.
“Harry, I -” she began, before a loud bang from below echoed throughout the house, followed by the furious voice of Ronald Weasley.
“GEORGE!”
A roar of approving laughter followed this, forcing Molly to stand up hesitantly and turn to Harry, only to quick head out the door as another, slightly quieter, explosion followed the first.
“GEORGE WEASLEY!” Came the threatening voice of Mrs. Weasley. The laughter ceased. This was the last of the commotion that Harry heard, and he slowly began to examine his surroundings.
He was in Ron’s room, as he had already noticed. The Quidditch posters and heaps of clothes were a clear sign of that. The bed next to his was empty and made, but the floor around it could not be seen.
Carefully, Harry slid his legs out of his blankets, sliding himself gently to the floor. As his feet touched the wood and he lowered his weight to his legs, a low groan escaped him. His entire body was sore, and just standing made his breathing quicken.
He clenched his teeth as he let go of the bed, which he had used to cling onto in his descent. He limped towards the table which the glass of water now resided again, and found his wand there. He slid it into the waist of his pants and continued on his way to the door.
He dragged himself out of the doorframe and began to creep down the steps, forcing himself to remain upright after each one. As he descended, the sounds of content conversation reached his ears. He eagerly headed in the direction of the sound and found himself standing in the doorway of the parlor.
The entire Weasley family was in the parlor, minus Fred. Bill was standing next to the couch in which George, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat. Charlie laid, stretched content fully across the couch, mildly watching the others. Percy was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch on which Charlie was laying on. His face was flushed and he had obviously been “discussing.” Arthur Weasley was sitting in a muggle recliner, his legs lifted comfortably and a smile on his face. Mrs. Weasley stood beside Arthur, a disapproving, yet amused, look on her face.
Conversation continued for almost a minute as Harry stood in the doorway. Ginny was the first to notice him, and her head turned in his direction and she stared at him in shock. Ron turned turned to tell her something and noticed the look on her face. Following her gaze, he too noticed Harry, and his expression quickly mimicked Ginny’s. The rest of the Weasley family suddenly realized that the talking stopped, and followed the two youngest Weasley’s gazes to the doorway.
The Weasley’s (and Hermione) all stared at Harry in silence for a moment, until he grew uncomfortable. He brought his hand around behind his head to scratch his neck, “Err… G’morning.”
Ginny’s expression quickly turned to one of joy as the rest of the family jumped up ran to Harry as he was bombarded with tight hugs and firm pats on the back. He happily returned the greetings and gestures, shaking George’s and Arthur’s hands weakly and giving Ron a soft pat on the shoulder.
Ginny followed in line and gave him a tight hug when she reached him, wrapping her arms tightly around his body and squeezing tightly. Harry gratefully returned the embrace and gave her a bright smile as she stepped away.
After everyone had said their greetings, Mrs. Weasley ushered everyone away and led Harry to the couch. The Weasley Clan quickly formed back into a loose circle and conversation continued normally.
Harry happily listened to joking talk about George’s prank on Ron, which had been the loud bang he’d heard earlier. It seemed George had put an exploding cherry in the pie Ron had been attempting to eat, and it had ended in satisfactory results.
Talk glided from one carefree topic to another and Harry felt a strong sense of gratitude at what was happening.
His deepest wishes had been answered. Voldemort had been defeated (though Harry wished not to think about that), he had returned to The Burrow, and life had regained a sense of normalcy, as opposed to the chaos and confusion Harry had expected to cause.
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