Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: I don't consider this chapter too much of a treat, mainly for purely H/Hr people, such as myself. You'll see why at the end. Sorry, but I'm being realistic - it'll get better eventually! As always, please review! Don't make me beg, because I'm not above it you know!

Chapter 8: Where We Left Off

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the morning in the library. Harry managed to find a book that held his attention and spent a few hours reading it. He found it strangely relaxing. Hermione was thrilled by this, but as noon passed, she reluctantly suggested they go get some lunch. Bringing their books along, they stood up from the table and exited the library, heading in the direction of the kitchens.

Once they had acquired sandwiches from the kitchen, they headed straight for the common room, chewing on their lunch as they went. This resulted in them being empty-handed by the time they stepped through the portrait hole.

Ron was walking down the dormitory steps as they entered, his trunk hovering behind him.

"There you are. I was about to come looking for you two." Ron allowed his trunk to float to the floor. "Where have you been?"

"In the library," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

Ron glanced at Harry. "What about you, then?"

Harry shrugged in a guilty manner. "Library. What's with the trunk?"

Ron chuckled in a weary sort of way at the fact that Harry had spent hours in the library without necessity and then gestured towards his trunk. "We went and checked out the Burrow, you know… after. It wasn't too banged up, so we decided that we might as well head back." He picked up his trunk and set it on the sofa before turning back to them. "You going to stay with us awhile?"

Harry had not thought of them leaving Hogwarts. Of course he was going to stay at the Burrow…he really had no other place to go, at least not yet. "Yeah, I'll stay awhile."

Hermione nodded in affirmation as well and then retreated to her dormitory without a word. Harry did the same, and Ron trailed behind him. As Harry went about collecting the few items he had taken from his trunk, he kept stealing sidelong glances at where his friend sat on his four-poster, taking in his appearance. Ron had a sort of empty look in his eyes, he was sickly pale, and he looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in days.

"So," Harry said nervously, breaking the silence, "how are you holding up?"

Ron's head shot up in a sort of startled way, as if he hadn't been expecting to be spoken to. "What?"

"I asked how you were holding up."

"Oh," Ron said, settling back into his withdrawn demeanor. "As well as could be expected, I guess. What about you?"

"I guess about the same." Harry was setting his remaining items (including the book from the library) in the trunk when he heard Ron speak behind him.

"You're not coming back here next year." It wasn't really a question.

Harry had not really thought of coming back to finish his remaining year at Hogwarts, but now that it had been brought up, he knew that he wouldn't. The thought of returning here was somehow ridiculous to him. It was and would forever remain his first home, but he had gained everything he needed from its halls.

"I guess not," Harry said as he closed the lid of his trunk.

"Me neither."

Harry turned to Ron curiously. "Why?"

Ron shrugged. "Don't see the point. I'm not going to waste a year of my life here." He grinned awkwardly. "I know this may sound a bit selfish, but I don't think I'll have too much trouble getting a job after being friends with you."

Harry grinned back at him. "I don't think that's something to be selfish about. You deserve that after putting up with everything that I've put you through."

"Well, when you put it that way," Ron said with a joking smile.

"What do you think you'll do, then?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about helping George out a bit at first. I haven't figured past that." The smile slid off his face suddenly. "What do you think Hermione's going to do?"

Harry's grin slid off his face as well as he sat on his bed. "I hadn't thought about that." He flicked his gaze toward Ron. "I bet she'll come back to school."

"Why would she do something crazy like that? She doesn't need to."

"This is Hermione we're talking about, Ron. She's not going to skimp out on a year of school just because she can."

Ron remained quiet for several minutes, staring at his lap. Harry also sat in silence.

"It's going to be weird, isn't it?" Ron finally said, lifting his head. "Not coming back here? Especially since Hermione probably will."

Harry nodded. It would indeed be strange. He, Hermione, and Ron had been an inseparable entity since they had come to Hogwarts. The golden trio. Harry did not like the imagery of that being broken up, if only for a year. Even after that it wouldn't be the same, though. Sure, they would still be friends - he had no doubt of that. But instead of the figurative triangle that he associated with their friendship - each one of them a pinnacle, holding the shape together- they would become more independent of each other; they would form their own shapes. More like interlocking rings, if you will.

Harry's train of thought was disrupted by Ron speaking once more. "I guess we'd better go, then. Hermione's probably already downstairs, and Mum'll be waiting for us."

With that he hoisted himself from his four-poster and exited the dormitory. Harry also stood from his bed for the last time. He supposed everything he had done over the past few days had been for the last time. His last time to visit the kitchens; his last time to walk around the lake; his last time to wander through the corridors; his last time to see the place that he had called home for the past seven years. Harry suddenly wished he had gone out to the Quidditch pitch.

With a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry cast a quick spell to lift his trunk from the floor. He felt it proper to leave Hogwarts with one of the first spells he had learned here. He could imagine that lesson clearly in his head; still hear the cacophony of voices yelling Wingardim Leviosa in frustration as Hermione's feather floated tauntingly over their heads. With this image pervading his thoughts, Harry took one last look at his dormitory. His throat burned as he slowly closed the door, the click of the lock sounding formidable in its permanence.

Hastily wiping at his damp eyes, Harry walked downstairs to join his best friends as they began their short journey to the gates of Hogwarts… a short walk that somehow seemed harder than all of the travels he had ever experienced.

**********

Upon arrival, Harry was pleased to see that the Burrow had been restored from whatever damages it had sustained from the war. He was also pleased to smell the scent of shepherd's pie wafting from the kitchen. Once the trio had their trunks levitating behind them again, they entered the yard and stepped into the house, walking in single file.

The Weasley children all sat around the table in the center of the kitchen, talking amongst themselves as they waited for their mother to finish preparing lunch. Mr. Weasley also sat among them, choosing to listen to his children's irrelevant chatter rather than contribute. Despite the sadness in his eyes, a content air also reigned over his features.

Mrs. Weasley spun around as Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered, wielding a potato-covered spoon. "Ah! It's about time the three of you got here. You can put your trunks in the usual rooms before you come down to eat. It'll be ready shortly." She said all of this rather quickly and then turned immediately and began to vigorously stir the contents of one of the numerous pots on the stove.

Without a word they left the room, starting towards their respective rooms (Hermione to Ginny's and Harry to Ron's). They placed their trunks at the foot of their beds and then returned to the kitchen immediately, preferring not to delay their meal.

Dinner that night was a pleasant affair. After breaking open a bottle of firewhisky, laughter soon pervaded the previously gloomy air. They drank carelessly (excluding Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny), allowing whatever words that would fall from their mouths. As a result, the night soon became a tribute to Fred; they spent the evening sharing fond recollections and toasting his memory. By the time midnight rolled around, many of the Weasleys were hiccupping loudly, their eyes glazed and half-open. With a quick gesture, Mr. Weasley corralled his family towards the staircase (including his wife, who had drunk more than any of them).

However, Ginny lagged behind and lingered near the door. Once she had Harry's attention, she gestured surreptitiously with her hand and exited the house. Taking the hint, Harry followed after her. Once he had reached her, Ginny slid her hand in Harry's and they walked slowly through the garden, reveling in each other's company.

As they walked, Harry was unsure how much time had passed since they had left the kitchen. Was it minutes? Hours? He couldn't say that he cared tremendously.

They finally came to a stop before a bench surrounded by bushes. The bushes had grown haphazardly from the Weasleys' absence, but the blooming flowers that covered it made up for that fact ten-fold. Sitting next to each other, Ginny laid her head on Harry's shoulder, but they still did not say a word.

Finally, Ginny whispered, "Can we start from where we left off?"

The tone of her voice nearly melted Harry's heart. The doubt was more than he could handle.

Instead of answering her with words, Harry lifted Ginny's face to his own and kissed her softly. As Ginny sank into his embrace, Harry knew that it was answer enough.

********

A/N: Like I said, sorry! That's about as mushy as it gets between the two though, so don't worry that this is going to be a frequent occurrence!

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