A Thousand Fibres

Chapter Six

The last days Harry spent at Hogwarts were peaceful. The students prepared to move on with their lives. Many talked about the jobs they wanted to try out, about the families they wanted to visit, about keeping in touch after they left Hogwarts.

Harry had finally decided to send a letter to the Ministry, saying he wouldn't take the tests after all. Professor McGonagall asked him to come to her office one evening and asked him if he was sure it was what he wanted.

"I guess so. I can apply later, can't I? NEWTs scores permitting?"

"Yes, of course. People of all backgrounds apply to the program."

She seemed a little disappointed, but Harry hadn't had any other panic attacks since he had decided not to join the Aurors' ranks, and he took it as a sign that his decision was the good one. He didn't feel so trapped anymore. He didn't feel pressured to make decisions *now,* or die trying. Which allowed him to enjoy his last days as a student, in the company of his friends.

And to rejoice with them when, finally, Ron made his move.

It happened fast. Hermione was debating the pros and cons of using a standard summoning charm or a modified one with a Ravenclaw, in the library. Harry could only understand every other word, so fried was his brain after the NEWTs. And suddenly, as Hermione paused to catch her breath, Ron said, "Marry me."

Hermione said, "Er."

Harry sat straighter, suddenly very awake.

Everyone in the vicinity stopped what they were doing, and listened. The silence spread from one student to the next, until the library was totally silent.

Ron blushed.

Hermione stuttered, "What?"

Ron gulped, and said, more hesitantly, "Marry me, please?"

Someone snorted.

Hermione said, "Ron, it's just because of the stress, you don't-"

He shook his head. "No, it's not. Look, of course we'd need to wait until we can live on our own" - there were a few whistles at that - "but I've been thinking about it a lot, and..." He blushed even more, put a knee on the ground, and looked up at Hermione, "Hermione Granger, would you please become my wife?"

Hermione burst into tears, nodding. And Ron, being Ron, said, "But why are you crying?"

"Oh, boys," Hermione said, flinging herself in his arms.

Harry sniggered, having seen them have that very argument time and again, then rose to hug and congratulate them, amongst applause from the onlookers.

Later that night, Ron told him how utterly mortified he had been at the audience he had gathered. "Everyone should have moments like that in their lives," Harry answered, only half joking. "Do you love her?" At Ron's nod, he went on, "Well, then, enjoy it."

* * *

There were only two days left. Then it would be the parting feast, and the last ride to London on the Hogwarts Express - the New Hogwarts Express, as most students had taken to call it. The train that had been attacked by the Death Eaters had been impossible to salvage, but by September, the Ministry had built a new one. To the older students, it was not the same thing as before, and Dean had once laughed that they sounded like aged ladies when they talked about the "good old times."

For now, the trio was lounging on the grass, under a tree.

Ron was bemoaning his lack of job. "I mean, how can I even get a decent home if I can't even get a job?"

Harry could sympathize, but he also knew that Hermione would stay with Ron, no matter what.

"I don't have anything either," he said. He still hadn't told them that. Now seemed as good a time as any. "So don't feel alone in that."

"You don't?" his friends chorused.

He shook his head, eyes on the blue sky overhead.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "I thought..."

"I decided I didn't want to do that with my life," Harry said.

"Being an Auror is not good enough for you?" Ron asked, resentment in his voice. "Because that's something I'd love to do and-"

Harry cut Ron off before he could warm up on the subject. "Of course, they're the best; of course, they do a vital job. I just don't want to spend my life fighting. That's all."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.

"What are you going to do then?"

"No idea."

"Not that you'll have any trouble finding money," Ron threw in.

Harry had learned long ago that it was useless reminding Ron that he had earned his fortune at the price of three graves. He didn't say anything, and Ron bit his lip. "No idea at all?" he asked.

"None whatsoever," Harry answered.

"Aren't you nervous?"

Harry laughed. "A little."

"Oh."

"It's an improvement on how it was before the NEWTs, though." He leaned on one elbow. "Look, I'm not the one about to get married, with no idea what he wants to do, so okay, you have bigger issues." He smiled. "I just wanted to say, it's not that unusual to not have definite plans when you leave here. Remus told me he didn't either." He decided to keep Snape's advice to himself. Ron was unlikely to take it to heart.

Ron nodded, looking a bit better. They debated for a long while about the opportunities Ron had. It always boiled down to the fact that what he wanted to do fit Bill's job description very well.

Ron brooded for a while, as Hermione, who planned to take a Charms apprenticeship, enjoyed the sun, and Harry, who felt as relaxed as he ever had, watched the birds flying. After a while, he broke the silence. "I could get used to this."

Ron snorted, then said, "Well, me too."

Hermione hummed in agreement.

Harry went on, "Really, all the other years, something horrible happened after or during the exams, and I felt lousy afterwards - when I was even conscious. Thank Merlin Voldemort attacked at Christmas, this time around."

Hermione laughed at that. "Lucky you."

They spent the rest of the afternoon there, as students came and went on the grounds around them.

Harry remembered Lupin saying that it was important to remember the good things. "That's what I want to remember," he decided. Ron proposing to Hermione in the library. Ginny jumping up and down when Neville yelled that he had been accepted as a teaching assistant at Hogwarts next year. Luna reading the Quibbler upside down, always looking absent, and often more perceptive than all of them put together.

Harry smiled, and enjoyed the sun.

* * *

Six months later

The Burrow

"Was that punch alcohol free?" Ginny asked, leaning heavily on Harry.

"Afraid not," he said, trying not to smile.

"Oops," she said. She put a hand to her mouth, a little green. "I'm gonna hurl." She ran to the house, under the disapproving glare of Mrs Weasley.

An elaborate illusion decorated the snowed garden in a beautiful, sunny park. Ron and Hermione had exchanged their vows only two hours before, and were now dancing, oblivious to the rest of the world. Harry felt a strange ache as he watched them. Sometimes, he was a little jealous. Ron had accepted a low-level job at Gringotts, and was, mostly, enjoying it - especially now that Bill had gone back to Egypt. So Ron and Hermione had decided not to wait too long until they married. Which suited Harry just fine.

He had made plans to depart the next day, and was avoiding alcohol. A story printed in the Quibbler, four months before, had attracted his attention. It talked about a town in Australia, where Muggles were perfectly aware of the wizarding world's existence. Both communities were in constant contact together, and to Harry, it seemed so impossible that he had actually researched it, and found it was true. Granted, the town was very isolated, and whenever a stranger arrived, any "weird" display of magic had to be explained or erased from the memory of the unsuspecting witness, but it still seemed extraordinary to a British wizard. It suddenly struck Harry that he had never seen anything but Surrey, London and Hogsmeade. And he suddenly discovered he was curious to know how other wizards lived - in Asia, in New Zealand, in Africa. How did they govern, how did they interact with, or hide from, the Muggles?

He wanted to see as much as possible.

He had the money to do it, and Sirius's vault had come with a note - something along the lines of, "Have fun with the bloody money, or I'll come back to haunt you. I was once a Marauder, I have ways. Love, Sirius."

Harry planned to wait until Ron and Hermione left, then bid everyone goodbye, catch as much sleep as he could, and take the first plane to the continent in the morning. For Christmas, Ron and Hermione would be on their honeymoon, and Harry would be somewhere in Italy.

He smiled.

He was a little nervous at the thought of travelling alone. It was also very exciting. He had asked Lupin to give him additional lessons in defence, should he need it. He had also talked to him, at long length, about his decisions for the future. Lupin had been supportive, if a little sad to see him go.

"You deserve to see the world you saved," he had said.

Harry had nodded. Now that he was free to do it, he might as well enjoy the opportunity.

It had occurred to him, while Lupin trained him, that he should have been preparing to face Voldemort. It had been the plan, he knew. Get Harry through the NEWTs, then train him to fight Voldemort, on top of his training as an Auror. Then, should he survive, let him go away. He should have been living in fear, instead of preparing to enjoy himself. And he was glad that hadn't come to pass.

Harry saw Professor Dumbledore approaching him and pasted a smile on his face.

"Ah, Harry. How do you find the party?"

"Fine."

"Yes, yes. I always liked marriages, myself."

Harry nodded, thinking soberly that they were so much more fun than funerals. He shook himself. Now was not the time to bring the mood down.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to have guessed what Harry was thinking. "I hear you're preparing to leave."

"Actually, I'm all prepared. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"An adventure," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling.

Harry nodded. This time, it would be an adventure without mortal peril, he vowed.

Professor Dumbledore faced Harry, and put both hands on his shoulders. "I am glad you can do it, Harry."

He smiled. "Thanks."

They stayed silent for a moment, then Harry asked, because the question had bothered him for a long time now, "Did you want to become a leader, sir?" The question sounded stupid to Harry, and he blushed, but didn't retract it. He had been on the verge of asking it several times already. Now seemed like a good time to ask - who knew when he would be back?

The headmaster considered him a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I had wondered when you would ask... I don't think any true leader ever asks for it, my boy. Those who seek it, usually end up like Voldemort."

"Or Fudge," Harry interjected. "Not that he was less dangerous, in his own way."

Dumbledore nodded. "There are, of course, people who make their career in governing, who are good at it, who are honest and truly want to serve people. But these rarely become historical figures."

"Not like you," Harry said.

"No, I suppose not."

"Why, if you didn't ask for it-?" Harry made a vague gesture.

"I had just defeated Grindelwald. People needed someone they could rely on, someone to, not guide them exactly, but... give them hope in sombre times. So, I did it."

Harry nodded.

"I have seen how you resist that role," Professor Dumbledore added.

Harry snorted. "Pretty legendary. I don't understand how some people can still ignore the fact that I don't plan to become their bloody saviour."

"Harry, I may not have sought leadership, but I didn't, how shall I put it...."

"Run away screaming?" Harry offered, self deprecatingly.

"If you will. I wasn't eager to fill that role, but I was willing to do so. I don't think you're at risk of becoming me if you truly don't want to."

Harry hoped so, too. Fervently. Because, one way or the other, he *would* recover anonymity. There could be no doubt about that - he wasn't Albus Dumbledore, and he didn't plan to become him.

He smiled a little. "That's part of the reason I'm leaving," he said, even though the Headmaster probably knew that.

"Not the only reason, I hope?"

"No, not the only one," Harry said.

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "I shall go now. I just wanted to wish you good and safe travel. I'm very proud of you. And, since your parents are not here anymore to say it themselves, I will say, in their place, that I am sure they would like the man you are a lot."

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice, and watched the old man make his way through the crowd. He saw the way people looked at him; reverently. The way they looked at Harry, sometimes.

They wouldn't keep looking his way like that, he thought. No way was he going to put up with that.

* * *

Ron and Hermione left around eleven. It took them a good fifteen minutes to make their way through the crowd, thanking people, shaking hands, smiling, even though they must both be ready to collapse.

Harry was the last. Hermione hugged him, refusing to let go for a while. When she pushed back, she had tears on her face. "Are you sure you don't want to wait until later to go?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "Certain. I'll be on a beach, working on my non existent tan, by Christmas."

She snorted.

"Just to see what a sunny Christmas looks like," he added.

She hugged him again, and he said laughingly, "I think your husband is beginning to grow impatient."

She released him, and Harry found himself drawn in Ron's arms. "The husband understands," Ron said.

Harry hugged back. They stayed that way a moment, then Harry giggled. "I think your wife is growing impatient."

Hermione burst out laughing, and Ron released him.

The three looked at each other for a while. Harry bit his lip, and said, "Go now. I'll write, I'll come visit."

They both nodded, and waved at the rest of the guests, who were watching from a good distance. Then, they both disapparated.

Harry stood there a moment, and felt two arms around his shoulders, dragging him backwards. "Oy, Harrykins," Fred said, resting his chin on Harry's left shoulder.

"I want a hug too," George said, and his arms went around Harry's waist, and he rested his head on his right shoulder.

Harry laughed.

"Much better," Fred said. "Really, can't get maudlin at a wedding, can we?"

"Especially when there are talks to be had."

"About business."

Harry shook them off and turned to face them. "Oh?"

Mrs Weasley interrupted them. "Fred! George!! I can't believe you'd try to drag him into-"

"How much do you need?" Harry asked, before Mrs Weasley could finish.

"Harry!" said Mrs Weasley. "You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't," he said. "But I'm the heir of two wealthy families, I don't have luxurious tastes, and I like the way these two think. Most of the time."

They both looked ecstatic. "Really?" Fred asked.

"We want to expand, you know."

"Go where the clients are."

"In Hogsmeade, for example."

"But, this time, you would earn a part of the benefits."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but George raised a hand. "That part's not negotiable."

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Okay. How much?"

Each of them took one of his elbows, and he was dragged away, while Mrs Weasley looked at them, a mixture of annoyance and resignation on her face.

Two very happy twins went home that night, and Harry put a copy of his contract in a folder, to be left to the man who would take care of his money in his absence.

* * *

The rest of the night was a blur of happy faces, dances, laughter and animated conversations.

Harry went "home" - a room at the Leaky Cauldron, which he had occupied for the last months, seeing no need to rent an apartment when he would leave the country soon - at one in the morning, and collapsed on the bed, giggly, nervous and content.

This had been the ideal last night in the country, he decided.

* * *

Three days after Christmas, a familiar white owl dropped a postcard in front of Severus Snape, during breakfast in the great hall. It was a card featuring a beach, and the sea.

On it were only written,

"Thank you.

Happy Holidays.

HP."

An unknowing observer would have thought that Severus Snape was as sour as ever, but Albus Dumbledore, who was watching him, was not an unknowing observer. The Hogwarts Headmaster smiled knowingly as Snape gave a bit of sausage to the owl.