The First Day

Harry woke up in a daze, sitting up suddenly, trying to figure out where he was. The light in the room was unnaturally bright and he was alone. He reached under his pillow for his wand, and Summoned his glasses, perching them on the tip of his nose so he could see the alarm clock, ticking softly on top of the bureau in the corner.

It was nearly ten.

He shoved the bedding back and rolled out of bed. He collected some clothing and stumbled hazily down to the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would clear the cobwebs from his head. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd slept through the night like that. That night - or was it two? - after the battle don't count. There wasn't anything I could have done but sleep... he thought, as he flicked the hot water tap on with his fingertips. He ducked into the tub, and stood under the spray for several minutes before he began to wash himself.

It was such an odd sensation to have slept through the night, without feeling his scar burn, tingle, ache, or any of the other myriad sensations that radiated from that inch-long bit of skin. He rubbed his fingertips over the ridge bisecting his forehead. It seemed smaller, less prominent lately. As if it were finally healing. Harry lathered shampoo through his hair and began to consider that maybe it was healing. His thoughts seemed to echo about in his head, since he was alone now. He hadn't been truly alone in his thoughts in... It's been at least since my fourth year... Harry held up a foamy hand and counted off the time on his dripping fingers. Four years. Shaking his head, Harry rinsed the lather from his hair.

He haphazardly dried his hair and body with a towel and pulled his jeans and t-shirt on, taking a moment to brush his teeth. Barefoot, his hair still damp, Harry padded down to the ground floor. The Weasleys were lounging with the Sunday Prophet, passing sections amongst them, lingering over cups of tea. Molly looked up from a recent issue of Witch Weekly. 'Harry, dear, are you hungry? You quite slept through breakfast.'

'I'm all right,' Harry said, folding himself to the floor next to the sofa.

'Let me get you some toast, at least,' Molly said, jabbing her wand in the direction of the kitchen. In moments, a plate of toast zoomed toward Harry and settled on the coffee table at his elbow. Molly then Summoned a cup and poured Harry a cup of tea.

Harry gratefully began to sip the tea, his eyes closing in bliss. Not having the small things, like tea, on a regular basis last year, made him feel exceedingly grateful to have it now. He cradled the cup in his hands, inhaling the fragrant steam. 'You all right, mate?' Ron asked.

'Yeah.'

Ron leaned closer to Harry. 'What did you get Gin for her birthday?' he whispered.

Harry's eyes flew open. 'Wait, when is it?'

'Tomorrow. The eleventh.'

'Bloody, buggering hell,' Harry sighed into his bent knees. 'It slipped my mind...'

'You can go in with George and me,' Ron said matter-of-factly.

'Thanks, Ron, but I should get her something on my own.'

'Any ideas?'

Harry started to shake his head, but then Pig began to twitter madly as a small barn owl flew through the open window. 'Yeah, I think I have one that might work...'

Arthur took the letter from the owl and offered it a crust from one of the uneaten pieces of toast in front of Harry. 'It's from Charlie,' he said, opening the envelope. Scanning it quickly, he added, 'Says he'll be here tomorrow for Ginny's birthday dinner.'

'Marvelous,' Molly said happily. 'That's everyone, then.' She sighed and smiled mistily at her daughter. 'It's not every day your youngest comes of age...' Molly's face took on a stern expression. 'You will finish school, young lady,' she said to Ginny. 'No leaving early, no matter what. Even if Godric Gryffindor himself does a hula dance in a grass skirt and coconut bra on the staff table of the Great Hall, then tells you to go chase ghosts in Madagascar or something equally daft like that.'

Ginny didn't say anything, but nodded in assent. As of right now, Quidditch was the only thing she really wanted to do, and one didn't need N.E.W.T.s to play professionally. She knew her playing days would be limited and she didn't want to be the feminine version of Ludo Bagman, who'd been hit too many times with a Bludger to find his way inside out of the rain. Besides, only Bill and Percy had actually finished school. Charlie had left early, at the end of his sixth year to work on the Romanian dragon reserve. Fred and George had famously skived off school forever mere weeks before exams. And Ron didn't even do any part of his seventh year, and he hadn't wanted to go back and complete his seventh year. Molly didn't say anything, but she considered it a great source of shame that four of her children had not finished school.

'Mum, that's brilliant!' George said, sitting up. 'Can you see it, Ron? Little dolls of the four Hogwarts' founders doing barmy things like hula dances in absurd costumes...'

'What's next?' Ginny snorted. 'Russian stacking dolls of past Hogwarts' Headmasters?'

'That's not a bad idea...' Ron mused. 'They can have holiday themes...'

'I was just kidding,' Ginny protested.

'I'm not,' muttered Ron, grabbing a Self-Inking Quill and sketching something on the edge of the section of paper he was reading. 'Remember Neville's boggart?'

'Dumbledore in surf shorts and a boogie board?' George suggested. 'It can play music...'

'That's just tacky,' Ginny murmured.

'One man's tacky, is another man's brilliant gag gift,' George intoned. 'You think you're getting a lovely collectable item and instead you get Snape in a ratty green dress with a vulture-adorned red hat.'

'So glad I'm not part of it,' Ginny sighed.

'Snape would go spare,' Ron said. 'We'll have to give one to Neville.'

'Is the shop ready to open tomorrow?' Molly interjected, hoping to change the subject.

'More or less,' George replied, turning a page of the paper. 'It's going to be a long process to get things back where they were.'

'But we should be able to handle the basics for the crowd going back to school,' Ron added.

'And we're closing at five on the dot, Mum, so we'll be home in plenty of time for Gin's birthday.' George traded his section of the paper with the one Arthur had. 'Wouldn't dream of it.'

'We're not eating until seven,' Molly said. 'Give Bill, Charlie, and Percy time to get here from work.'

'Gee, Mum, what do we do?' George muttered. 'Play in a sand pit all day?'

Harry tugged on the end of Ron's jeans. 'Heard from Hermione again?'

Ron shook his head. 'Not since she got there.' He leaned forward a bit, under the pretense of pouring another cup of tea for himself. 'I have a bad feeling about this,' he confessed softly, so only Harry could hear. 'It shouldn't have taken this long...'

'We'd have heard if something went wrong,' Harry suggested.

'I suppose.' Ron sighed and began to read the Quidditch scores. The war had started during the Quidditch off-season, and now that it was over, quickly resumed in an attempt to return to normalcy. The games weren't as crowded as many people were still in the process of picking up the pieces of their lives.

Sundays tended to be leisurely at the Burrow. The wireless played softly in the background, lunch was an unhurried affair with just Molly, Arthur, George, Ron, Harry, and Ginny at the table that afternoon. Like the cup of tea that morning, the stillness struck Harry. It wasn't the tense silences that marked the weeks and months of the last year, but rather the calm that descended after a storm. It was yet another thing Harry had to accustom himself to. He was slowly starting to lose that hollow-eyed look he'd worn since the beginning of May, regaining some of the weight he'd lost. He could still count his ribs, just by looking in the mirror, but they weren't quite so prominent anymore. He couldn't help but gain weight. Molly kept piling his plate with second and third helpings, as soon as his fork scraped against the plate. He helped Arthur wash the dishes and meandered out to the hammock.

Ginny was already stretched out in it, swaying gently to and fro under the rippling shadows of the leaves overhead. Feeling oddly as if he were intruding, Harry started to back away, but not before Ginny's eyes fluttered open. She held out a hand in wordless invitation, and Harry hesitated for a moment before he took her hand and settled in the webbed twine next to her. 'You really need a haircut,' Ginny commented, brushing the wayward dark strands away from her face. Harry merely grunted in response. 'I'm surprised Mum hasn't Stunned you yet and all but shaved your head.'

Harry ran a hand through his hair, making if flop messily into his eyes. 'That makes two of us,' he muttered.

'You slept an awfully long time last night,' Ginny said. 'We tried to wake you up for breakfast, but you just pulled the quilt over your head and rolled over.'

'It's been a while...' Harry conceded. He grinned crookedly at Ginny. 'I guess I needed the sleep...'

'Yeah, and Teddy ran circles around you.'

'Amazing, considering he can't even crawl yet,' Harry retorted dryly.

'He's gifted,' Ginny said pertly.

'Yeah...' He rubbed his forehead fretfully.

Ginny noticed his movement and the small line that appeared between his eyebrows. 'What?'

Harry's fingertips pressed against the scar harder. 'It's numb,' he complained.

Ginny's eyebrow rose slowly. 'And this is a bad thing?'

Harry grimaced. 'It's just since I was eleven, it's done something.'

'Didn't you think it was going to change?' Ginny asked.

'Beyond finding a way to get rid of Riddle,' Harry began, shaking his head slightly. 'I wasn't thinking too much of what would happen after that. I wasn't always sure I'd survive...' Harry found himself telling Ginny. 'Up until the very end, I thought I might not be alive when it was all over.'

'Shhhh.'

Harry continued, unheeding of Ginny's efforts to quiet him. 'I died...' he whispered. 'I died.' He stared into the leafy canopy overhead. For the first time, he understood he had actually died, but had a means to return, and not merely cheated death. 'I saw Dumbledore.' He slowly exhaled. 'I saw part of Riddle's soul. It was dying...' Harry's hand drifted up to his forehead again, fingers tracing a path over the jagged line of his scar. 'I had a choice,' he said abruptly. 'I could have stayed. It was quiet and peaceful there. Nothing ached or hurt.'

Ginny was silent for a long time. 'What made you come back?' she asked, barely above a whisper.

'I had to,' Harry murmured painfully. 'I didn't want to; it was so peaceful there. But people were counting on me. I wasn't finished yet. Just because I'd managed to destroy nearly all of his soul, it didn't mean he was gone.' He closed his eyes against the late summer sun. 'It had to be me. It had to end with me...'

'Harry, shhhhh.' Ginny tried to shush him, afraid the nightmares would come roaring back.

'There was too much I couldn't leave unfinished...'

*****

George paced nervously in front of the door. It was five minutes to nine the next morning. There was already a line of people outside the door. 'Right,' he told Ron, Harry, and Ginny, clustered behind him. 'We'll take lunch in shifts. Ginny, you're the best with maths, so you're in charge of payments. Ron, Harry, you two and I will handle the floor and restocking as needed. Ready?' Without waiting for them to reply, George laid a hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. 'Okay, Fred...' he mouthed. 'This is it...'

He flung the door open, and a stream of students surged inside the door, many of whom were repeat customers from the previous years. They greeted George, Ron, and Ginny with shouts of glee. For Harry, they were slightly more reverential, wending their way through the warren of shelves and stacks of tricks and jokes to shake his hand, or pat him on the back, and introduce him to their parents. Harry felt his pulse begin to race and his hands trembled, but in time, the students' attentions turned to the merchandise, intent on carrying back a measure of hilarity to Hogwarts', much to Harry's relief.

They worked steadily through the morning and before Harry knew it, it was time for him to take his allotted break for lunch. He slipped into the back room, and picked up a sandwich from the basket on the table and slid out the back door to pick up Ginny's birthday gift.

As he walked down the street, he could feel the eyes of the people around him, zooming with unerring accuracy on his face. It reminded him uncomfortably of the first time he came to Diagon Alley. He supposed that he might have preferred it then, that first visit seven years ago. He'd been able to more or less hide behind Hagrid, and at the time, he could still operate in relative anonymity. Now, he could feel the laser-like stares of people, as he passed by, zeroing in on him. He felt like he was trying to breathe underwater, nearly gasping as he walked faster down the street. The back of his neck began to burn as more people's gazes turned toward him. He flung himself into the dark shop, leaning against the closed door, grateful that it was nearly deserted just now.

Harry scanned the walls carefully, looking for something that would suit Ginny. He didn't have much time, since George expected him to be back on the floor soon. Harry made his selection and paid for it, slipping back down the street and into the back door of the shop. He stole up the stairs, stowing his gift for Ginny in the flat. He jabbed his wand at it, with a touch of regret. 'Can't have you making noise,' he whispered regretfully. 'She'll hear you, and I really want it to be a surprise... I promise, I'll take the charm off later.' Harry closed the door to the flat and ran back into the shop.

'You're late!' George chided.

'Sorry!' Harry called over the noise. 'I had to go do something.' He turned to the tiny first-year student at his elbow to help him select a Reusable Hangman and a few fake and trick wands for his younger siblings.

'Aren't there any Pygmy Puffs?' the boy asked sadly.

'Not yet,' Harry said, squatting so he was on eye level with the child. 'But we ought to have some by the Christmas hols, if you come home. We'll have some for sure next summer.'

'I suppose my sister can wait a little longer. Our neighbor had a pink one. Piper wanted one for her birthday,' the boy sighed.

'How 'bout a few Self-Inking Quills? On the house,' Harry said. 'Not nearly as exciting as a Pygmy Puff, but I promise, we'll have everything back to how it should be soon.' Harry led the boy up to the counter so Ginny could ring up his purchases. 'Not quite how you pictured spending your birthday, eh?' he asked, sympathetically.

'Not really,' Ginny said dryly. 'Then again, I could be at home, sorting through my things for school. I think I prefer this.'

'I'm starting school this year!' piped up the boy excitedly. 'My parents were in Hufflepuff,'

Ginny smiled down at the boy. 'I'll see you on the train, then.' She handed him a paper sack with the magenta triple W logo of the shop on the side. 'So, what took you so long at lunch?' she asked. 'Getting my birthday present?'

'Maybe.'

'Is it bigger than a breadbox?'

'Yes.'

Ginny cocked her head to the side. 'Animal, vegetable, or mineral?'

'Yes.'

'You're no fun,' Ginny complained. 'Where'd you hide it?'

Harry leaned across the counter and kissed the tip of Ginny's nose. 'Nope. Not telling you. You'll just have to find out later.' He plunged back into the melee.

The rest of the day continued at the same blistering pace, until George locked the door at five. They helped the few customers who were still inside and ushered them to the door. Ron slumped against a shelf, mopping his brow with the sleeve of his robes. 'Blimey...' he breathed, too tired to say more.

George seemed indefatigable. 'Right, we need to take an inventory of what's on the shelves and what's in the back, and clean up a bit, then we can get home for Gin's party.'

Ginny took Harry's hand. 'We'll take the back.'

'NO!' George shouted, drawing astonished looks from Harry and Ginny. 'No... uh... I mean... I'll do the back... I know it all, it'll be faster...' He dashed into the back and swept the curtain closed.

Harry looked at Ron in bewilderment. 'What was that all about?'

Ron shrugged, his ears going red. 'No idea,' he said, quickly before turning to a shelf and counting the boxes of Ten Second Pimple Vanisher.

In the back, George pulled out the wide, flat box that held Ginny's new broom, and slipped out the back door. He Disapparated to the Burrow and ran up the paddock to the house. 'Mum!' he shouted. 'Mum!'

Molly burst from the house. 'What's the matter, George? Is it Ron? Ginny? Harry?' Her hands closed around George's upper arms.

Panting, George shook his head. 'No...' He thrust the box at Molly. 'Put this with Ginny's others...?'

Molly took the box with a beady-eyed look at George. 'Scare me out of my wits, just to keep Ginny from seeing her gift?'

'Sorry...' George shrugged. 'I panicked.' He hugged Molly. 'I need to get back before they realize I'm gone.' He grinned a little, and pelted back down to the end of the paddock to Apparate back to Diagon Alley.

'Sorry I missed the grand re-opening,' a voice said behind George. He whirled around to find Katie leaning against the door. She smiled apologetically. 'It got busy at work today, and I didn't get a chance to slip out for a minute.'

'Ah, no worries, then.' George tapped the doorknob with his wand and opened the door.

'I thought you were in the back,' Ginny said.

'I took some rubbish out,' George lied smoothly. 'Ran into Katie.'

'Hey, Katie, you have plans tonight?' Ginny asked.

'Not really.'

'Well, it's my birthday, and my mum's throwing a party, if you want to come. Keep George company, at least.'

Katie followed George into the back room, where he hung up his robes on his hook. 'So how've you been?' she asked George.

'All right. Busy.'

'I don't have to go to the party, if you don't want me to go,' Katie said, stung slightly at George's indifferent tone. 'I can make something up...'

George wrote a few things down on his clipboard before he answered Katie. 'Why wouldn't I want you to go?'

The side of Katie's mouth quirked in a wry grin. 'Well, you haven't written or anything since the last time I saw you.'

George put the clipboard down. He turned to face Katie, who was perched on the large table. 'It wasn't you, Katie, or anything you did. It just got really busy trying to get the shop opened again.' He scribbled something on the parchment in front of him. 'It would be nice if you came. Mum'll have dinner and a big cake with lots of chocolate frosting. All...' His breath caught in his throat. 'All my brothers will be there. I think even Luna and her barmy dad are coming.' He fiddled with his quill. 'I'd like for you to come...' he said to the quill.

'It won't be a problem?' Katie asked.

'Have you met my mum?' George snorted. 'She's not happy unless she's feeding twenty people.' George tossed Katie a spare clipboard. 'Here, make yourself useful.' He reached over and tapped the parchment, making a chart appear. 'You can help me inventory the merchandise back here.'

'Making me earn my keep for dinner, eh?' Katie drawled.

'Something like that,' George smirked. They worked together, dividing the storage shelves between the two of them. George didn't realize how much time had passed, until the three others came to stand in the doorway.

'George?' Ron poked his head through the doorway. 'We're done up here.'

'All right, then.' George looked at the group. 'Harry, can you Side-Along Ginny?'

'Erm... Not today...' Harry stammered. 'I, um, need to get something...'

'Birthday present?' Ginny guessed.

'You know, Gin... I could just go fetch it down, and give it to you right now.'

Ginny pretended to consider the idea and shook her head. 'Nah. Surprise me.' She took Ron's hand, and let him Side-Along her home. Harry heaved a sigh of relief and ran up to the flat and brought the parcel downstairs. By the time he had come down, George and Katie were gone.

Harry glanced down at the package in his arms. 'Here goes...' he murmured, before Disapparating to the Burrow.