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Harry couldn't decide if it was very late or very, very early. To help him decide, he looked at the clock, a Mr. Weasley-Muggle masterpiece that lived its' life part-time as a toaster, on the Burrow's kitchen counter, and saw that it was two in the morning.

Very, very early, Harry decided.

Harry busied his mind with memories of the previous few weeks to keep his mind off of just how early it was.

Harry remembered the day a few weeks ago, when he and Ginny, high above the ground, had discussed the end of their romantic relationship. He also remembered a few days later, when Ron and Hermione had returned from Australia.

The day his two best friends returned was one of joy and relief. While Ron and Hermione were away, Harry had experienced what he could only describe as separation anxiety, even though they'd sent him letters every week.

Harry had worried every day in September about Ron and Hermione's safety. Even with the company of Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry had felt quite strange and a bit empty, as if he was forgetting something, but couldn't exactly remember what.

He'd often found himself thinking that if he had a Remembrall, it would be red all day, every day.

If Harry was being honest with himself, he would also admit that he'd felt a bit jealous, that his friends would go so far away for so long without him, especially during such an important time in all of their lives.

All of these negative feelings were forgotten however, the day Ron and Hermione returned.

While Harry had hoped that Ron and Hermione would leave the worst parts of the bickering and argumentative aspects of their relationship behind them, during the days in early October when Hermione stayed at the Burrow, Harry, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasleys became acutely aware that Hermione and Ron's trip to Australia had only seemed to change Hermione's skin from pale to tan and Ron's from white to sunburnt… not their relationship.

Harry sometimes found himself put in the middle of their bickering.

Harry did his best to ease the tension by joking, listening to Ron's complaints, by distracting Hermione on short walks through the fields surrounding the Burrow, or- in times of desperation- asking Hermione to look up bits of information Harry didn't really need; however, these peace-keeping attempts did not seem to have much effect.

While it was always clear what they were arguing about- Ron being inconsiderate, Hermione being pushy, Hermione being "mental," as Ron still occasionally thought to put it- Harry couldn't figure out the true reason why they were arguing.

Before, Harry thought the root of the arguing was their hidden feelings for each other…. but now, Harry had no clue.

I'm not sure I want to know, Harry thought, sitting in the dark in the Weasleys' kitchen, trying to rid the uncomfortable topic from his thoughts.

At least they are getting along most of the time, Harry thought, concluding that maybe their bickering and misunderstandings were just going to always be a part of their relationship.

Harry returned his focus to Mr. Weasley's "Muggle" clock in the kitchen.

Too early to be up, Harry thought to himself with a grimace.

It wasn't uncommon for Harry to be up at this time of morning, as he was not a stranger to nightmares, racing thoughts and memories, and anxiety, especially since the conclusion of the War.

Sometimes, these things prevented sleep from coming, and sometimes these things were an aversion to sleep- a prompt to make Harry think that staying awake would keep the pain away.

In any case, he often spent hours sitting at the Weasleys' kitchen table in the quiet bluish light of early morning, nibbling on a bite of toast, looking in his photo album, reading a book, or diverting his mind with other, more palatable thoughts and memories.

On some mornings, he wasn't alone.

On occasion, Ron, Ginny, Mr. Weasley, or Mrs. Weasley would join him at the table, complaining of similar problems; a nightmare, feelings of restlessness, heartache. By late in September, Harry had thought it odd how never more than one Weasley (and oddly, never Hermione) joined him for an early morning chat.

Harry's suspicion had led him to ask Hermione if she thought that the Weasleys had conspired to alternate "nightly Harry duty."

She hadn't taken it kindly, to say the least.

"Honestly, Harry, you're worse than Ron sometimes. They have their own nightly battles to face just as much as you."

Her comment had been like a slap to the face, but a needed one. Harry wondered how he could have been so self-occupied.

On some of these early mornings (Harry later learned it was when the moon was waxing crescent, waning crescent, or full), Harry was joined by Luna, who, by foot (literally, as she was more often barefoot than not) traveled the short distance from her rook chess piece of a home on a hill down to the Burrow.

Harry remembered the first night Luna had joined him in his wakefulness.

That early morning had been the first time after the War, and hopefully the last, Harry had convinced himself that he and the Weasleys were surely in the midst of an attack by a wayward Deatheater, one of the unfortunate many who continued to linger and roam about the countryside, claiming to do Voldemort's work, believing he will one day return.

Hearing strange noises coming from outside, Harry had stealthily crept out of the Weasleys' kitchen into the moonlight, in the direction of faintly rustling bushes.

Seeing what Harry originally thought was a strangely glowing orb (he later realized the orb was only Luna's platinum blond head), he readied his wand to perform a disarming spell; however, the "Ex-" of Harry's "Expelliarmus!" was interrupted by a dreamy voice emanating from amongst Mrs. Weasley's vegetable garden.

"Hello, Harry. Enjoying the moonlight?"

"Luna?" Harry questioned unbelievingly.

Finally letting his guard and wand arm down, Harry saw that Luna was happily crouched next to a large tomato plant and a few green pumpkins.

Her platinum hair was swept to the side of her face in a messy plait, and she was clad in midnight blue pajamas. Harry also noticed that Luna was barefoot, the moist earth rising up between her pale toes.

"I thought about telling you yesterday that I was going to come by…. so that you wouldn't hex me, but then I remembered that you would pick a disarming spell before a harmful one… before figuring out who was rustling in the garden, that is."

Even after knowing Luna for so long, she still found ways to startle, confuse, and awe all of her friends, including Harry.

Rather than ask Luna exactly what she was doing, Harry ventured his best guess. "Looking for garden gnomes?"

"Well yes, sort of. At this time of year, and with this type of garden gnome, when the moon is waxing crescent, waning crescent, or full- like tonight- rings of silver-colored sediment become visible around their burrows."

Luna beckoned Harry closer to a small, empty spot next to her, between her right foot and the green pumpkins.

As Harry crouched down, he glimpsed a worn look in Luna's typically reflective, doe-like eyes, and guessed that she might not be awake at this hour just to look at gnome rings.

"See?" Luna whispered as she carefully parted a wall of greenish-brown tomato plant leaves.

And Harry saw. Dozens and dozens of glowing silver rings of all sizes, some large and some very small, some overlapping each other and some more distant from their spot in the Weasleys' garden. When Harry shifted his weight, the rings seemed to glisten in the moonlight.

"It's pretty isn't it?" Luna said pointedly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly.

"Does the sediment have magical properties? Like gnome saliva?"

Luna shook her head, no.

"That's odd," Harry mused aloud, thinking back to some of the fairytales he'd heard in school before he went to Hogwarts. Things that glowed in the moonlight were usually magical or ominous, and Harry knew there was nothing ominous about garden gnomes. "Why not?"

"My mom always liked to say… sometimes the beauty or wonder of something is magic enough."

Harry nodded silently in agreement, thinking back to the night on the Astronomy Tower's balcony, when Hermione had told him about the tents.

Luna and Harry sat for a time among tomatoes, eggplants, green pumpkins, and silver gnome rings, using the time not only to catch up on what the other had been up to, but also using the moment to enjoy the peaceful sounds of pre-dawn.

As the blue moonlight eventually transformed to a yellow-orange glow that morning, Harry told Luna she could stop by any night, but that she should start coming by during the day, too.

Luna seemed very pleased with the invitation, and made good on it a number of times in the following weeks, whether it was for lunch, dinner, a playdate with Teddy, or just to say hello.

Harry was glad to have the extra company, and he was even more glad to see the tiredness leave Luna's eyes a little more with each visit to the Burrow.

Harry wasn't the only one in the house glad to have the extra company, as all of the Weasleys' spirits seemed lifted with each of Luna's visits. Luna had a way of reminding people of the importance and magic of everyday moments.

"Luna, you know, I thought you were a real nutter when we first met," Ron blurted out one night at dinner, admittedly after a butterbeer or two, to which Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Hermione, and even Mr. Weasley exclaimed in unison, "Ronald!"

"Would you let me finish!?" Ron retorted.

Harry snorted, thinking that Ron would undoubtedly make things worse, given the chance to finish his thought.

Teddy laughed in his highchair nearby.

"Oi," Ron glared, not too seriously, at Harry and Teddy.

"It's all right Ron," Luna interjected calmly, nibbling on a piece of bread, "I don't mind people thinking that."

"Well I did think that, at first… but, what I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted, was that I'm really glad that we became friends… all of us."

Harry remembered the colorful mural on Luna's bedroom ceiling. Friends, it said.

That evening, any feeble tiredness or fear that remained visible in Luna's eyes vanished for good.

Luna became a less frequent early morning visitor after that, and then she and her father left on a long-awaited month-long expedition to Sweden to look for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

In late October, around the same time Luna and her dad left on their expedition, Hermione returned home to her parents. While the Weasleys agreed that it was good for Hermione to return home, and that Ron and Hermione would be fine after some time apart, Harry feared that the separation would only prolong the negativity and misunderstandings that somehow alwayd existed between them in one way or another.

Soon after Hermione's departure, Ron began working full days at George's shop again, and Ginny's training with a rookie Quidditch team (whose captain supposedly had connections with the Holyhead Harpies) was in full swing.

With a recent promotion at work and plenty of grief to keep at bay, Mr. Weasley was also rarely at home, spending much of his time at the Ministry, or tinkering with more toaster clocks in his workshop.

With everyone so busy, Harry began to feel a bit strange living at the Burrow, his days spent having tea with Mrs. Weasley, degnoming the garden (it was really becoming an issue), watching Teddy while Andromeda worked at St. Mungo's, and flying around by himself over fields and ponds near the Burrow.

Throughout his time at Hogwarts, Harry often thought how much he would enjoy being alone more often, with plenty of time to just be, but now that he was so often alone and not doing much in the way of productivity, he rather missed the company and felt he lacked a sense of purpose.

Harry had attempted to work with Ron at George's shop for a brief time, but found it extremely difficult to work when he was consistently bombarded by customers with questions about the War, his current relationship status, his plans for the future, and requests for pictures and autographs.

Ron, never one to feel uncomfortable in the spotlight, helped Harry immensely in these situations by deflecting people's attention, and assured Harry that the commotion would eventually die down.

George assured Harry that it was all great for business.

While Harry knew that Ron (and George too, in fact) were probably right, Harry did not want to spend his days in such a way, and decided that working in the shop was not for him.

Now, Harry faced the ever-present problem of having no idea what to do with himself. Even though he had Kingsley's job offer waiting for him, Harry wasn't ready to take it. He honestly wasn't sure if he'd ever want to take it.

Hermione had offered him a place to stay in her parents' home, but Harry felt he could not impose on Hermione and her family, after they had been separated for so long.

Hermione understood his refusal to live with her; however, this did nothing to stem her frequent letters, floos, and general attempts to get him to stop by for a visit.

Harry knew the Weasleys wanted him to stay at the Burrow, but he felt as though he was in some way a drain on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's resources.

Plus, Harry had to admit that he was becoming exasperated by Ron, who in his rare free time seemed hyper-focused on how he was totally confused by Hermione's behavior, and lost on what to do.

While pondering this wide variety of thoughts at the Weasleys' kitchen table at two in the morning, Harry heard a series of creaks emanating from the floor above. Even now, after the War, Harry could not stop himself from viscerally gripping the handle of his wand in alarm, preparing for any potential threat.

When Harry heard the creaks slowly move toward the direction of the stairs, his self-control took over and he relaxed slightly, realizing that someone in the house must also be awake.

Harry knew he hadn't woken Ron, as Ron could sleep through a horde of screeching mandrakes, but Harry wondered if it was Mr. Weasley who'd awoken at such an unusual hour.

Please don't let it be Mr. Weasley, Harry thought rather guiltily.

It wasn't as if Harry's relationship with Mr. Weasley had changed drastically since the War, and it certainly wasn't as if Harry thought any less of the man he'd come to know as a father. Instead, Harry's previous "relationship" status with Ginny had somehow activated a side of Mr. Weasley that Harry could only liken to the man's relationship with anything Muggle-related: obsessive.

Mr. Weasley had basically become enthralled over the notion that his only daughter was in a romantic relationship with the one man in the universe whom he felt truly deserved her.

Encouraged by his own belief, Mr. Weasley had let his imagination run a bit wild, even going so far as to discuss wedding plans and future grandchildren with Harry.

Of course, these conversations made Harry extremely uncomfortable. More painfully, these conversations also prompted Harry to feel extremely guilty, knowing that his relationship with Ginny was, at this point, truly one of close friendship.

Harry, Ginny, and even Ron were initially shocked that Mr. Weasley was acting in such a way, as the three had expected the behavior from his significant other. In any case, Harry, remaining shocked, had no idea how to handle this side of Mr. Weasley.

In contrast, Ginny and Ron (who at this point also knew that Ginny and Harry's relationship was decidedly one of friendship) had come to find Mr. Weasley's behavior more amusing than anything else. Harry quite suspected that they enjoyed watching Harry become blatantly uncomfortable and embarrassed whenever Mr. Weasley and Harry were in the same room. Mr. Weasley seemed none the wiser.

Harry's discomfort only worsened whenever Ginny and Ron would play along with Mr. Weasley's notions; Ron would often start listing ridiculous wedding themes (everything from a Tri-Wizard Tournament theme where guests would compete for the seats closest to the bride and groom, to a Quidditch theme where everyone would dress like their favorite Quidditch player, at which point Ginny would chime in with, "I call Krum!"

Harry found it odd that Mr. Weasley did not find this comment suspicious in the least.

Ginny would often pretend to decide names for their future children (an opportunity which she would also use to make Mr. Weasley tear up with joy with names like Arthur Ronald Potter and James Sirius Potter).

Again, Harry found it all very discomforting.

With this discomfort in mind, Harry was relieved to find that it was Mrs. Weasley, not Mr. Weasley, joining him in the kitchen so early in the morning, even if she was rather disheveled looking.

"Harry dear, put on some tea, would you?"

"How did you know it was me?" Harry asked from the dark, rising from his seat to put the kettle on.

"A mother always knows."

Mrs. Weasley sat at the kitchen table and lit a candle to brighten the room while Harry tended to the tea.

With the room now lit with more than the blue glow from the moon, Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Mrs. Weasley was wringing her hands nervously, anxiously looking at the family clock. Harry peered at the clock, and noticed that Fred's hand was still stuck on `mortal peril'.

Shaking his head, Harry wondered how no one else had noticed it, and made a note to himself to ask Hermione for help to switch Fred's hand to the `home' position.

"I've had some trouble sleeping since the War, like most people I'm sure, but I've this awful dream that every hand on the clock suddenly points to "mortal peril'…"

Harry let Mrs. Weasley continue, not really knowing how to comfort her.

"Then I hear V-Voldemort and Bellatrix… and the hands all point to `dead.'"

Harry listened, quietly setting mugs on the table and fixing tea the way he knew Mrs. Weasley preferred.

"And I wake up and I know it's a silly dream… so silly- and I think `the War is over, everyone is safe.' But… but then I remember- Fred," Mrs. Weasley sniffled loudly then, and Harry saw tears stream down her face.

Feeling uncomfortable with this open display of sadness, he looked down at his tea, but cautiously placed his hand on top of her trembling one.

Harry didn't know what else to do to make Mrs. Weasley feel better (he suspected that he really couldn't do much), but he silently handed her a napkin from a pile in the center of the table, still unable to look her in the eyes.

"Thank you dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she dabbed at her face and proceeded to blow her nose.

""Look at me, I'm a mess. I'm sorry you have to see this Harry."

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. I wish- I wish there was something I could do."

"I know, it's quite all right. Besides, it's gotten a little easier, especially with everyone not far away and keeping busy."

Harry was glad to hear it. He knew Mrs. Weasley put up a good front, but he'd been too afraid to ask her how she'd truly been feeling lately.

Mrs. Weasley sniffled again, and gently patted the back of Harry's hand. Harry looked up cautiously, afraid she may be crying again, but saw that she had a small smile on her face.

A short time passed in silence, as Harry and Molly sipped tea in candlelight.

"Now Harry,"Molly began, her voice no longer sad, "seeing that we're both up and Arthur's asleep, I think we need to have a little chat."

Harry gulped audibly, fearing that he had misread Mrs. Weasley's acceptance of the end of his and Ginny's relationship.

"Harry, you know that you always have a home here, no matter what, and that Arthur and I think of you as a son. But we wouldn't be good parents if we didn't start helping you think about your future."

"Now before you say anything, I know that you and Ginny are no longer- involved- and while I would've loved to see you both happy together, I understand that not every relationship works the way you expect it. Why, before Arthur there was a man…" Seeing Harry's flush, Molly spared him.

"Well, that's no matter," Mrs. Weasley laughed, "Arthur on the other hand- I'm really so apologetic for his behavior- he's having such a hard time letting his youngest child and only daughter go. In Arthur's mind she was safe and sheltered with you, and without you he thinks she's out in the wide world on her own."

"I know Mrs. Weasley, I-"

"No need to apologize Harry, truly, a lot of this is Arthur's grief, the good man… but you'll see. He'll be all right eventually… I'll bring him to his senses."

Mrs. Weasley smirked playfully then, and gave Harry a quick wink.

"But about you, Harry. I know it's been challenging living here the last couple of weeks-"

"Mrs. Weasley, I love living here-"

"Oh hush, I didn't mean it like that. I only meant that I can tell that you'd like to start thinking of more permanent places, or maybe where you'd be more useful?"

"Yeah, I… I've thought about maybe getting my own flat. I have money saved and it might be good to have a place of my own."

"Quite right. That would be nice… but won't you be lonely, having a big flat all to yourself after living at school for so long, and then here, where there's always people around."

Harry imagined himself alone, in an empty flat, not knowing what to do with himself, or how to spend his days. The thought reminded him of how he used to live at the Dursley's. Harry shuddered.

"Have you given any thought to living with Andromeda? I know that she would love to go back to her job at St. Mungo's full-time, especially with all the new cases from the War… it helps to keep her busy from thinking about… Well, it sounds like she has a promotion on the way… and Merlin knows she could use help with Teddy… and you're his Godfather, after all. That might be nice."

Mrs. Weasley sipped her tea again then, letting Harry mull it over.

After listening to Mrs. Weasley's suggestion, he immediately knew that Mrs. Weasley and Andromeda's plan was some time in the making. Harry was not annoyed by this, however.

Instead, he felt warmed at the thought that Mrs. Weasley and Andromeda cared about him enough to help him decide what to do next with his life.

"Mrs. Weasley, I really like spending time with Teddy, but I don't know anything about taking care of kids," Harry said very seriously, concerned that he would be an ill-choice for a caretaker.

Mrs. Weasley's smile spread across her face to the corners of her eyes as she chuckled, "Oh, Harry, no one really knows anything about childcare! Heaven knows how all my children turned out okay- well, there was that one time with Percy, but never you mind that! I know you'll be wonderful. Plus, Andromeda and I won't be far, and I'm sure Ron and Hermione could give you a hand when you need it."

"More importantly," Mrs. Weasley continued sincerely, "I think Andromeda would really like the company. She and Teddy are quite alone- it would be a welcomed change."

Harry nodded. He would much rather spend his time doing something to help someone he cared about than spend it on himself, aimlessly trying to figure out what to do with his spare time. Plus, the promise he'd made to Remus the night he faced Voldemort for the final time was always present in the forefront of his mind.

Harry envisioned himself spending his days with Teddy, playing and teaching. He could help give Teddy the childhood he'd never gotten himself.

"Well, as long as they have the space, and they want me there. I think I'd really like that."

After finishing their tea, he and Mrs. Weasley tiredly ambled back up the stairs to their respective rooms.

As Harry reached the door to the room he shared with Ron, he whispered, "Thanks Mrs. Weasley, I- I really appreciate it."

"Oh, Harry, think nothing of it. What are mothers for?"

As Harry pulled the sheets up over him in his small twin-sized bed, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and anticipation, he had only positive feelings about things to come.

***

This was a long chapter, but I hope you found it interesting! I couldn't find a good way to break it up. I also hope that I was able to write Luna well. She is one of my favorites. The story really starts to get going in the next few chapters - a lot less retrospective stuff as well. Please feel free to leave a comment!

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