Square One

Harry dozed off and on throughout the day, awakening long enough to down potions and eat small meals. Late that evening, shortly before visiting hours were to end, he woke once more. Ron and Hermione were sitting beside his bed. Hermione was sniffing a little; Harry was sure she had been crying.

"S'aright, H'mione," he slurred sleepily. An instant later, Hermione was clinging to him desperately.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried. "We've missed you!" She pulled back a little to wipe at her eyes, and Harry was struck at once by how much she had changed. She looked...older.

"Hermione," he whispered, "please...I need to know...." he began. But Ron shushed him.

"Harry, please don't ask us anything. The Healers think too much information right now could hurt you, so we're really not supposed to tell you much of anything," he said.

Harry subsided with a slight scowl. He needed to know what was going on, but he wouldn't -couldn't- do anything to cause Ron and Hermione any more distress. He sighed softly. "Could you hand me my glasses?" he asked quietly. "And my water goblet?"

While Hermione helped him with the water and his glasses, Harry let his mind race in random circles. He couldn't help wondering about a lot of things: where Ginny was and why she hadn't come to see him; why Mrs. Weasley hadn't come to see him, and whether her absence meant that Mr. Weasley was still recovering from his injuries; how much time had passed since he'd landed here at St. Mungo's; why Ron, Hermione, and even George seemed so much older. He wasn't sure they could answer any of those questions. Instead, he asked, "Where will I stay when they release me?"

"Mum says your room at the Burrow is all ready for you. She'd be here, but she's minding Lauren for us. Remus said he told you about her?" At Harry's nod, Ron continued. "If you'd rather, you can always stay with Hermione and me. Our place isn't as big as the Burrow, mind, but...well, we'd love to have you stay with us, Harry."

Harry smiled, then. Ron's words were a balm to his troubled mind. Surely if his old room was waiting for him, then not as much time had passed as he had initially feared. "As much as I appreciate your offer, Ron, I think I'd like my old room back."

"Mum'll be glad to hear that," Ron replied with a grin. "And honestly, mate, you're probably better off. If this go 'round is anything like last time, Hermione's mood swings are something you'll be glad you missed out on."

"Ron, honestly!" Hermione snapped.

"See what I mean?" Ron said, standing and gently pulling Hermione to her feet so that he could wrap her in his arms.

Harry just stared as his brain tried to follow the train of conversation. Finally the pieces clicked and his eyes widened as he realized what Ron was on about. "You're pregnant?" Harry asked.

Ron beamed over Hermione's shoulder. "We just found out for sure a few days ago. Haven't even told Mum yet. You're the first to know."

Harry forced a smile, and offered his congratulations, but his insides were tying themselves in knots. Just yesterday - or what to his mind was yesterday - they'd been hardly more than children, albeit children who were trying to destroy the most feared wizard of the 20^th century. Now, Hermione and Ron had children of their own. Everything felt wrong.

Trainee Healer Duncan came around then to tell Hermione and Ron that visiting hours were ending. Both of them gave Harry a brief, fierce hug before leaving with promises to come back the next evening. Though he would be looking forward to their visit, Harry knew deep inside that things between them had changed irrevocably.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, Remus and George returned. This time, they had Tonks and Molly Weasley with them.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said, as they approached his bed. She, Harry was glad to see, looked very much the same as always, right down to her vividly pink hair.

A moment later, Molly had him wrapped in a motherly hug. She seemed subdued and a little the worse for wear. Harry couldn't even imagine how hard the loss of Fred and Bill had been for her. Suddenly his eyes were filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Molly," he said.

Answering tears welled in Molly's eyes, and George had to turn away to get his own emotions under control. "Thank you, dear," Molly said quietly. Wiping her eyes, Molly turned her energy to fussing over Harry. She repeated what Ron had said the night before, that the room at the Burrow that'd he'd inhabited since the end of his sixth -and last-- year at Hogwarts was ready and waiting for him. "The house is a bit quieter now," she said as she fluffed his pillows. "A bit too quiet. It would just be Arthur and me if George and Charlie hadn't moved home."

"Ginny got her own place not long ago," George added before Harry could ask. "But she still comes around when she can. And Ron's at the Burrow more often than he's at home, seems like."

The conversation ebbed and flowed from there, with everyone feeding Harry little tidbits of what had been going on while he was unconscious. Charlie had moved back from Romania to help Molly care for Arthur; he was now helping George with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and seemed to like it. The joke shop had recently bought out Zonko's - a plan that had been an especially dream of Fred and George's since they'd first latched onto the idea of a joke shop. Earlier talks had proved a dead-end, but finally George had made an irresistible offer; they'd taken over the shop, and Ginny had quit her old job to run it for them. Remus had actually been offered a job at the Ministry of Magic - much to his surprise - and accepted it; he'd never applied for any position there, and everyone he knew denied having anything to do with sudden appointment, but he refused to worry about the origins of the offer and chose instead to be thankful for an opportunity he thought he'd never have. Arthur still hadn't returned to work, having taken his boys up on their offer to 'take care of things' so that he could recover fully and also just spend some time with his wife, healing from the loss of two of their children and thoroughly enjoying their new roles as grandparents. Fleur had returned to France following Bill's death, and they hadn't heard from her again. Neville Longbottom had a flourishing nursery, which didn't surprise Harry, and was married to Hannah Abbott, which was a bit of a surprise.

After a time, Harry found it harder and harder to follow what was being said, and he was struggling to stay awake. He finally let his eyes close, and the next thing he was aware of was Remus's voice murmuring to Molly that he didn't want to wake Harry, but also didn't want to leave without saying goodbye.

Harry mumbled something incoherent and reached out to brush his hand against Remus's. The older man smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze. "I'll be back to look in on you this evening, Harry," he promised before he turned to leave.

Molly made sure Harry was properly and comfortably tucked in and his glasses set on the bedside table before she pressed a kiss to his forehead and bid him sweet dreams.

~ ~ ~

Harry found that he was able to stay awake for longer periods of time than he had the day before, and he noticed that he wasn't feeling quite as weak. Apparently, he was slowly regaining his health.

Around lunchtime, George dropped in again. They talked a little about the joke shop before George turned suddenly quiet. "Harry," he said at last, "everyone will likely have my head for telling you, but you're to come home tomorrow and you should really be prepared...."

The words sent a sliver of cold dread directly to Harry's heart.

"Harry....it's been almost six years since you killed Voldemort."

"Six years?" Harry whispered, his mind not truly able to grasp what George was telling him.

"Five years, nine months, and twenty-two days," George said. "What?" he chuckled at the amazed and confused look on Harry's face. "The day you killed him is a national holiday, Harry. Good day for business for my shop, what with the Ministry's standing order for our fireworks." He paused and looked down at his hands. "Every year I have to watch the entire magical community celebrate the day my brothers died."

Harry struggled to sit up and laid his hand on the only part of George he could reach, which happened to be the top of his head. He couldn't help noticing the strands of grey that had sprung up in amongst the red.

George raised his head and gave Harry a small, sad smile. Harry let his hand fall to the coverlet, and George laid his own on top of it.

"Sorry," George said. "Didn't mean to get all maudlin. I was trying to fill you in on what you should probably know before you rejoin the rest of the world."

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Likely, the older witches and wizards will be much as they were before, staring and wanting to shake hands with you and all that rot," George explained, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "The younger crowd though...it's like they're already forgetting what all of us went through when Voldemort came back. They think the anniversary of the end of the war is just another excuse to have a picnic, or watch a few fireworks. It's...appalling, actually."

"I guess I can understand just wanting to put it all behind you," Harry said.

"It's more than that, though, Harry. You'll see for yourself, though hopefully not any time soon. You'll see more of Muggle London than Magical when we take you home tomorrow, and the Burrow is pretty far removed from....well, anything, really."

"That's one of my favourite things about it," Harry confessed.

"Mine, too," George agreed. He fidgeted a moment before he spoke again. "There's something else you need to know. It's about Ginny."

Harry swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear whatever George was about to say.

George covered Harry's hand with his own again as he looked at him and said, "Ginny's moved on, Harry. She met someone, one of the wizards Charlie recruited in Romania. They were married six months ago."