The First Day

Harry peered at his watch. It was after ten. They would have to go inside soon. 'Hey, Ginny...' he said, prodding her gently. 'We need to go inside. Curfew.'

Ginny's eyes narrowed, but she rose from the bench they had dragged under the apple tree and began to trudge to the house. She went into the sitting room and plopped on the rug, her back against the sofa. Harry joined her, frowning. Ginny's mood had taken a sudden nosedive in response to his announcement. 'Something wrong, Gin?' he asked lightly.

'How could you just let Mum set a curfew like that?'

Harry's mouth dropped open as he turned his head to look at Ginny. 'Huh?'

'We're both adults,' Ginny argued. 'And she's treating us like we're just children!'

Bewildered Harry shook his head slightly. 'Gin, that was over a week ago...'

'And your point?' Ginny asked icily.

'Why didn't you talk to me last week about this?' Harry said uncertainly.

Ginny shrugged. 'I was busy,' she said blithely.

'Are you joking?' Harry huffed.

'I just want to know why you didn't back me up when Mum was setting this bloody curfew on us.'

Harry let his head fall back against the sofa cushions. 'I don't like confrontations,' he told Ginny.

'Could have fooled me,' Ginny snorted. 'I've seen you have plenty of confrontations.'

'I don't like fighting,' Harry sighed. 'I really don't like losing my temper...'

'Oho! You must think I've gone barking,' Ginny objected. 'I've seen you. I've seen you happy, upset, distressed, frightened... I've seen you nearly die more than once. I've seen you weep. I've seen you withdraw so far into yourself, you damn near disappear into the wallpaper.'

'That's not the same thing,' Harry interjected, pushing himself to his feet. He paced the length of the sitting room, throwing indignant glances at Ginny as he did so. 'Those last few months, after we escaped from the Malfoys' - '

'Wait,' Ginny interrupted. 'What do you mean, "escaped from the Malfoys"?'

'We were captured by Snatchers and taken to Lucius Malfoy's house. Dobby helped us get out of the dungeon under the house.' Harry ran a hand through his hair. 'I'll explain some other time,' he said, evading the questions in Ginny's eyes.

'But my point is,' he continued. 'Is that those last few months, I was calmer than I've ever been before. Not that I didn't feel anything. I still felt annoyed or upset, but I didn't let it control me... I don't want to let something like that control me...' Harry could feel his body shaking, and some remote corner of his mind wondered if Ginny could see it. 'I don't like fighting,' Harry repeated. 'I didn't want to fight with Molly over it. Face it, Gin; we were slightly irresponsible, given what's still out there.'

'Harry, there's so many wards around this place, I'm surprised bloody owls can get through to deliver the post,' Ginny argued.

'Wards can be broken,' Harry said soberly. He dropped onto an ottoman and buried his face in his hands. 'This is my home, Ginny,' he whispered. 'I've only ever had two - Hogwarts and here...' His throat tightened as he recalled standing on the hearth rug a month ago, pleading with Molly and Arthur to allow him to stay. 'I don't want to be in a position where I have to leave. And if I give your parents a reason to not trust me...' Harry's shoulders jerked in a shrug. 'I don't want to give them a reason not to trust me.'

Heaving a sigh, Harry stood up. 'I'm going to bed,' he muttered. He stomped up the stairs, fuming silently. He shoved open the door of Ron's room and threw himself on the camp bed. Ron looked up from the journal in his lap.

'Bee in your bonnet?' he asked mildly.

Harry yanked off one trainer, then the other and threw them across the room. 'Your sister...' he growled. 'She's impossible.'

Ron closed the journal slowly, leaving the quill between the pages. 'This is news to you?'

Harry yanked the pillow from its place on the camp bed and held it over his face, pressing it down, shouting his frustrations into the feathers. He flung it to the floor, panting and glared at Ron through the smudged lenses of his glasses. 'No, it's not.'

'What did she do this time?' Ron asked curiously.

Harry flopped back onto the mattress, making it creak ominously. 'She got shirty with me because I didn't stand up to your mum over the curfew.'

'That was last week,' Ron blurted incredulously.

'Yeah...'

'So why didn't you stand up to Mum over that?' Ron slid down his bed, and propped his head on a hand.

'I don't want your parents to think I can't be trusted with Ginny.'

Ron burst into near-hysterical laughter. 'That's the funniest thing I've heard all day,' he snorted with mirth. 'Mum and Dad probably trust you more than the rest of us combined. You could probably stay in her bedroom all night, and they might think all you did was hold hands and play Scrabble.'

George poked his head through the door. 'What's so funny?'

'Harry doesn't want to give Mum and Dad a reason to think he's untrustworthy,' Ron intoned dramatically.

George raised an eyebrow. 'You're the savior of the wizarding world. The sun rises and sets on you.'

Harry sat up, his eyes blazing with umbrage at Ron and George's comments. He took several deep breaths before he spoke in an effort to control himself. 'Okay, first of all, I'm not planning on compromising Ginny's reputation any time soon.' He squirmed, horribly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

'Why? You think she's unattractive?' George inquired, with the air of Muggle television reporter.

'I... Uh...' Harry stammered, flustered. 'Will you punch me if I say no?' he asked George, flinching slightly.

'Not at the mo, but I reserve the right to do so at a later date,' George replied immediately.

'Is it just me or has this conversation suddenly gotten barmy?' Harry muttered. 'No, I don't think she's unattractive, I just don't want to do... that... with Ginny right now,' Harry choked, feeling the back of his neck sizzle. He rubbed it self-consciously, sure that Ron and George could feel the heat emanating from it. 'And I'll let all the 'Boy-Who-Lived' shite slide, because it's coming from you,' he said pointedly. 'Anyone else would get the business end of a Jelly-Legs Jinx.' He blew out an explosive breath and snagged the pillow from the floor, dropping it on the camp bed and flopping down on it. 'Could we drop this?'

'Ginny's upset because Harry didn't side with her over the curfew,' Ron told George in a low voice.

'Ah. That explains a lot...' George sat on the rug between Ron's bed and Harry's camp bed. He patted Harry's shoulder sympathetically. 'Give Gin a day or two to settle down. She's got Mum's temper. Blazes like a potions explosion for a while, then burns itself out.'

'Yeah,' added Ron. 'Don't worry about it, mate. Besides, she's going back to school in a couple of weeks, and I'm sure Mum will drop the curfew by Christmas.'

'Yeah, that's a relief,' Harry retorted. 'It'll be too cold to be anywhere else besides the sitting room in December.'

'Where we can keep a steadfast watch over you and Gin,' George chortled.

'Brilliant,' Harry huffed, closing his eyes.

*****

Ginny rocked in the hammock, one eye cracked open and trained on the house. Molly was in a cleaning frenzy and Ginny was trying to lie low so she wouldn't have to pull all the furniture in her room into the middle of the floor and scrub the baseboards. She hated doing it the Muggle way, and she wasn't too keen on doing it with magic, either. Satisfied that Molly wasn't going to find her, Ginny let both her eyes close. She tried to relax, but couldn't. Harry hadn't talked to her since their argument last night. Shacklebolt had sent an owl early that morning, asking Harry to meet him, so he'd left with Arthur after breakfast, leaving Ginny at something of a loose end. She spent the morning reviewing her notes from Transfiguration from last year and read the first few chapters of her Charms textbook. After lunch, she escaped the oppressive stuffiness of the house and took refuge in the cool shadows lacing over the hammock.

'Budge up,' a voice said over her.

Ginny opened her eyes to slits. Harry stood over her, a study in weariness. Ginny scooted over a little, allowing Harry to insinuate himself into the webbing. 'Do you ever have to do something you'd rather not do?'

'All the time,' she said warily.

'I have to use Legilimency,' Harry stated flatly. 'On Death Eaters.' He barked with ironic laughter. 'Well, except for one Death Eater in particular.'

'Who?'

'Malfoy,' Harry ground out. 'Draco,' he clarified. 'He can use Occlumency to block it. So he gets to take Veritaserum, and I get the supreme joy of questioning him about his activities twice a year.' He reached up and massaged his temples, a headache beginning to pound behind his eyes.

'What does Legilimency do?'

'I can see...' Harry inhaled slowly. 'Inside someone's mind.' He turned so he lay facing Ginny. 'Memories. Feelings.' He shuddered violently. 'It's horribly intrusive.' He shivered, prompting Ginny to press the back of her hand against his forehead.

'Do you feel unwell?' she asked.

'Kingsley... Made me practice on him.'

'But you like Kingsley.'

'Bad memories with Legilimency,' Harry explained, wrapping himself around Ginny, pulling her tightly against him in an effort to stop shivering. 'I don't like it... Kingsley tried to keep it as pleasant as possible, but even he couldn't keep memories from the last three years from leaking through.'

They swayed in silence in the hammock for several long moments before Harry spoke up again. 'I don't like the curfew any more than you do,' he confessed.

'That's all I wanted to hear,' Ginny murmured.

Harry raised his head just enough to gaze down at Ginny. 'You're bloody mad, you know,' he informed her conversationally. 'Completely out of your tree.'

'Get used to it,' Ginny said flippantly.

*****

George swept a pile of Knuts into his hand and stowed them in the drawer of the ornate Muggle-style cash register on one end of the counter. He rubbed his eyes, exhausted from the day. The shop had been steadily busy from the moment it had opened that morning at nine. It was nearly five, and George reached for his wand to lock the front door when he heard the bell over the door chime. He looked up from the account book on the counter and saw Katie walk toward him, dodging the last few customers. 'Hey...'

'Why didn't you come Sunday?' she asked, without preamble.

'I had to work Sunday,' George mumbled, adding a column of figures. 'We ran out of a lot of stuff last week.'

'You should have sent an owl to let me know you couldn't come,' Katie hissed.

'I forgot,' George muttered, fiddling with the quill in his hand.

'How can you forget common courtesy?' Katie turned on her heel and began to stalk to the door. 'Next time, if you say you're going to come with me, then do it.' She left the shop, slamming the door so hard, the glass shook ominously.

George's head dropped to the counter top.

He hadn't gone to meet Katie and Angelina because he was scared. Angelina reminded him of Fred. Actually, everything reminded him of Fred, but some things reminded him of Fred more than others. The shop, of course, but it wasn't as bad as their bedroom at home, or the flat upstairs. They reminded him Fred was gone, and wasn't coming back. The shop, however, was like a living, breathing part of Fred that couldn't die. Not if George had anything to say about it.

But Angelina...

George could clearly see the last time Angelina and Fred were together. It had been a clandestine meeting with the four of them - Fred, Angelina, Katie and him. They had met at a Muggle pub in Highbridge for drinks, then snuck back to Auntie Muriel's house. It was so large that they could tiptoe to a little-used wing of the house that included a large suite of rooms. He, Fred, and Ginny would sometimes slip up to it, just to escape Muriel's constant harping on them. Fred and Angelina had disappeared into one of the rooms that radiated off a sitting room, leaving George and Katie alone. When Fred and Angelina emerged hours later, George could see the aura of satisfaction that enveloped Fred, the small smile playing about his lips, as he Side-Alonged with Angelina to her flat.

Two weeks later, Fred was dead, and George had to learn to live without a part of him that was as vital as his heart.

Angelina was a living reminder that Fred was gone. Just as much as George himself was.

George vaguely remembered seeing Angelina at Fred's funeral. She had been standing between Alicia and Katie. No, not really standing... Alicia and Katie were holding her up... George had avoided people after the funeral, mostly because he didn't want to talk to any of them, to listen to their platitudes about how sorry they were. But most of all, he hadn't wanted to see Angelina.

And he still didn't want to see Angelina.

But he needed to.

George shoved the register drawer shut with a bang. 'I'll be right back!' he shouted over his shoulder. He wrenched the door open and darted into the street, tripping over his shoelaces in his haste. 'Katie! Wait!' His head swiveled, searching for her in the crowded street. 'Katie!' He spied her in a gap between two elderly witches. 'Katie!' he bellowed, running toward her, dodging people with mixed results - avoiding some, and bumping into others. He caught up with her, his hand closing around her upper arm. 'Bloody hell, woman, you can walk fast,' he complained.

Impatiently, Katie tried to tug her arm from George's grip. 'You can't do that,' she told him. 'You can't treat people like that.'

'I know,' George sighed, letting go of Katie.

Katie began to walk again, heading in the direction of the building where lived. 'Make up your mind,' she told him over her shoulder. 'If you want to be friends with me, then that means you'll have to face things that remind you...' She stopped, and island of stillness in the teeming street. 'You can't have it both ways.' With that, she slipped through the door of the building and clattered up the stairs to her flat, biting her lip.

George stood in the street, gaping after Katie in astonishment. He slowly shook his head turned back to the shop. Ron stood in the doorway, ushering out the last customer. 'Thanks,' he told the small girl, who left clutching a large bag in one hand and the hand of her father in the other. 'We ought to have the Pygmy Puffs by Christmas,' he added with a rueful sigh. The girls adored the Pygmy Puffs. George waited for the girl and her father to clear the doorway, before he went back inside. He sat heavily on the tall stool behind the counter and picked up his quill once more.

Ron started to make a list of merchandise they needed to replace on the floor when he heard a sniffling sound come from behind him. 'All right?' he asked, without looking at George.

The sniffles ceased abruptly. 'Yeah.' George heaved a soundless sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and checked his figures in the account book, prepared a deposit for the shop's account in Gringotts to drop off in the morning, and helped David and Sasha prepare an order for supplies they needed to prepare more merchandise. He hung his robes on their hook by the door in the back room and followed Ron to the street. He started to Apparate, but stopped mid-turn. 'Ron,' he said suddenly.

'Yeah?'

George glanced over at the building in which Katie had disappeared. 'Tell Mum I'll be along later.'

'Um... Okay...' Ron peered at George carefully. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

'I'm fine,' George said irritably. 'Just go home now before Mum thinks we've been spirited off by Merlin-knows-what and sends half the Auror Department, along with MLE after us...'

'What do I tell her?' Ron stood stubbornly in the street, his arms crossed over his chest. 'She's not going to accept, "Oh, gee, Mum, George just said he'd be home later!" you know.'

George exhaled strongly through his nose. 'Tell her I have to take care of something.' George began to walk away. 'Tell her I'll be home in a few hours...' He kept walking down the street, aware of soft pop of Ron's Disapparition. He stood on the stoop of the tall building that housed Katie's flat and ran a finger down the list of names. Katie's flat was on the top floor. 'Of course it is...' George muttered. He pressed a finger to the button next to her name. The door opened slightly and George slid through it, and began to hike up the four flights of stairs to Katie's door.

He knocked softly, almost tentatively. Katie pulled the door open, a look of warm welcome on her face that faded to inquiry when she saw George. 'Yes?' she asked coolly.

'When's the next time you're going to see Ang?'

Katie leaned against the doorway, contemplating George, like he was some sort of odd species in Care of Magical Creatures. 'I don't know. Next Sunday probably.'

'Where?'

'Coffee shop by King's Cross. Usually around two.'

'I'll be there,' George said shortly.

'I'll believe it when I see it,' Katie retorted.

George blinked and noticed for the first time Katie was dressed differently that she had been earlier. 'What's up with the kit?' he demanded, gesturing to the dress she wore.

'I'm meeting someone,' she sighed.

George recoiled slightly. 'Like a...' He swallowed. 'A date?'

'Yes, George. A date.'

'With a bloke?' he demanded.

'No, George, with a hippogriff. We're madly in love and as soon as the Wizengamot changes the laws we're going to run off to Gretna Green and elope.' Katie rolled her grey eyes impatiently. 'Yes, George with a bloke.'

'Who?'

'None of your damn business.' Katie started to close the door, but George's hand prevented it from shutting. 'What?'

'Who?'

Katie's eyes narrowed. 'Martin Summerby.'

George stared at Katie in astonishment before he burst out laughing. 'Summerby? The Hufflepuff?'

Katie scowled at George. 'Yes.' She made a show of checking the time on her watch. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish getting dressed...' With that she slammed the door shut in George's face.

'I'll see you Sunday!' he shouted through the firmly closed door. He couldn't swear, but he thought he could hear Katie snort on the other side. He clearly heard a chuckle come from the door on the other side of the landing. George spun around and saw a middle-aged wizard, obviously enjoying the spectacle he and Katie had made. 'What are you looking at?' he grumbled.

'You really like her, don't you?'

'Who? Her?' George gestured to Katie's door. 'No... I mean, she's like a mate...'

'Best mate?'

George started to smile, but his expression quickly shuttered. 'I don't have a best mate any more,' he murmured, as he began to run down the stairs. George burst into the street and Disapparated. He reappeared at a low gate in a quiet clearing. George vaulted over the gate and blindly stumbled to Fred's grave. Grass had started to grow over the mound of earth, reclaiming it, returning it to how it had been. Soon, even the earth would forget Fred had existed. He sank to the grass, leaning against the headstone. 'Hey, bro...' he whispered shakily, resting his head against the cool marble.

*****

Molly paced the perimeter of the kitchen. Ron had come home for dinner, but not George. He had said that George had something to do, and would be home in a couple of hours. That had been three hours ago. 'We need to go look for him,' he told Arthur, who was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of tea. 'We need to split up into pairs and go look for him.'

'Molly, think about it. He could be anywhere. We can't just start Apparating around England, showing up in random places, looking for George.'

On the first landing of the stairs, Ron, Harry, and Ginny gathered around an Extendable Ear, somber expressions on their faces. 'What happened?' Ginny whispered, spearing Ron with a look.

'I dunno,' Ron admitted. 'He tore out of the shop right at closing and came back a few minutes later. Didn't look very good.'

Harry frowned, and yanked the flesh-colored string from under the door, stuffing it into his pocket. 'Shhh. They're coming out.'

Arthur stopped at the base of the stairs. 'I know you lot are up there listening, so you might as well join us in the sitting room.'

Guiltily, they stood up and trooped down the stairs and filed into the sitting room behind Arthur. He took a seat on the sofa next to Molly. Ron dropped into an armchair, while Ginny curled up on an ottoman and Harry folded himself to the floor at her feet. 'So what do we do now?' Ron asked.

'We wait,' Arthur said simply. His hand covered Molly's and squeezed it in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. 'He can't have gone very far.'

The sound of the back door opening and closing made them jump, and George casually strolled into the sitting room. He looked pale and his eyes were suspiciously red, but he smiled tremulously. 'Is this an invitation-only party, or can anyone join?'

'Where have you been?' Molly blurted shrilly.

'I just had to go do something, Mum.' George rubbed his face tiredly. 'I'm just going to go up to bed, then. I'm all done in.' He stooped and kissed Molly on the cheek.

*****

George stood at the entrance to King's Cross, peering at the coffee shop across the street. Katie sat at a table outside, a mug of something at her elbow as she scribbled something in a notebook. He shoved his hands in his pockets and jogged across the street. 'Hey...'

Katie looked up at him, one eyebrow rising. 'Hiya.'

'Mind if I join you?'

Katie pushed a chair out in reply and George gingerly perched on the edge of it. He sat hunched in the chair, nervously fiddling with his hair. He finger-combed it over his missing ear, then brushed it back, only to put it back over the hole. Normally, George wasn't bothered by the injury. At least not since he'd gotten used to not having an ear. Katie watched his actions in fascination. 'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Will it bother her, do you think?' George touched the side of his head. 'The ear?'

'Didn't bother her before,' Katie mused. 'Might be good to show it... You know... Because...'

'Because it makes me look different...?' George mumbled.

'Yeah...'

'George...?' Angelina's voice came from behind him.

George hastily stood up and faced the woman standing behind him. 'Ang...' His hands twitched at his side. George didn't know what to say, but Angelina looked as lonely as he felt. It felt oddly wrong to look at Angelina and not see Fred with her. You're not the only one hurting... he told himself. He took a tentative step forward and pulled Angelina into a hug. 'I'm sorry...' he whispered hoarsely.

'I'm sorry, too,' she told him huskily, returning the embrace. She pulled away from George and sat in a chair next to Katie. 'I can't stay long,' Angelina began. 'I have a Portkey to catch at four.'

Katie frowned. 'Where are you going? WizzHard sending you somewhere...?'

Angelina tried to smile, but failed. 'No. I'm moving to Toronto. My mum's sister lives there.' Angelina's large dark eyes shone with unshed tears. 'I just... I can't stay here. My aunt is going to let me stay with her for a while and help me get a job.'

'Why didn't you say something before?' Katie asked, fiddling with a ballpoint pen. This had come out of nowhere.

Angelina shrugged. 'We just got an owl from my aunt saying everything was all set up for me to move Friday.'

'But it's been in the works for a while?' Katie prodded, stung. Angelina nodded. 'And you couldn't tell me?'

'I didn't know it was going to happen this quickly,' Angelina admitted. 'I'm sorry about all this... I wish I had more time, I guess.' She leaned into Katie. 'I'll be back at Christmas and for holidays to visit my mum.'

'I expect you to write,' Katie sniffed.

'Of course I will,' Angelina promised. She turned to George. 'I saw the shop the other day. Fred would be proud of you.'

George nodded, his throat suddenly too tight to speak. 'Fred wouldn't have expected any less,' he rasped. Clearing his throat, he reached across the table and squeezed Angelina's hand. 'We'll ship to Canada, if you need some laughs.'

'That would be spiffing,' Angelina said with a half-smile, using one of Fred's favorite expressions. 'Corking, even,' she added with a ghost of a laugh. She wiped a tear that appeared at the corner of her eye. 'I have to go. They need to check my luggage and paperwork at the Ministry before the Portkey leaves.' She stood up, George and Katie scrambling to their feet. Angelina embraced George tightly. 'I'm going to miss you,' she whispered.

George bent and softly brushed a kiss over her mouth. 'Me, too...'

Angelina turned to Katie, and they embraced, shoulders shaking with tears they unsuccessfully tried to suppress. After several moments, Angelina pulled away, and ran across the street into King's Cross. Katie turned to George and he pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair while she wept into his shoulder.

'Bye, Ang...' he murmured.