The First Day

little_bird

Story Summary:
The first year after the battle at Hogwarts.

Chapter 31 - Home For the Holidays

Posted:
04/23/2009
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1,926


Harry trudged up the snow-covered path from the school gate to the large front door. McGonagall had written to him last week, asking him to meet her in the staff lounge. He pushed the door open with no little effort and stumbled into the entrance, stamping the snow from his boots. His footfalls echoed loudly in the entrance - it was quiet, and at this time of day, most of the students were in classes. Harry lightly ran up the stairs to the staff lounge and grinned a bit at the gargoyles guarding the entrance. 'Protean charm,' he murmured. The door opened and Harry walked into the warm room. McGonagall was sitting near the fire, talking to someone Harry couldn't see over the top of the large chair. 'Good afternoon, Professor,' Harry said, his voice dying when he saw Ginny rise from the other chair. He sent Ginny an inquiring look that she returned with small shrug. She didn't know why they were there, either.

'You're early,' McGongall said approvingly. She gestured to the tray on the table. 'Tea? Biscuit?'

'No. Thank you.' Harry felt his face crease in a frown. 'So to what do I owe the honor of this meeting?' he asked warily. 'I thought Professor Snape had been cleared...?'

'He was.' McGonagall beckoned to Harry and Ginny. 'I have been charged by Professor Snape to give you something,' she told Harry. 'I felt you could use Miss Weasley's company for this.'

Once more, Harry exchanged questioning glances with Ginny, as they followed McGonagall down to the dungeons, where Snape had once taught Potions. Harry wrapped his coat around himself tightly, shivering in the chill. McGonagall tapped a hidden door with her wand that slid aside to reveal Snape's living quarters. 'There were a few things he wanted you to have...' McGonagall said quietly.

'What could he have that I would want?' Harry spluttered.

'I do not know,' McGonagall replied briskly. 'However, he's told me that everything in that cupboard,' - she pointed to a small cupboard on the wall near the desk - 'is yours if you so desire.' She glanced at Harry over the rims of her square glasses. 'I shall leave you to it, then.' As she swept from the room, McGonagall waved her wand and warmth flooded the small sitting room.

Harry eyed the cupboard warily, drawing his wand. 'Do you really think you'll need your wand?' Ginny asked softly.

'Dunno,' Harry said. 'Who know what kinds of charms he's left on it?' He pointed his wand at the cupboard, forming the incantation in his head. It didn't open.

'You have to mean it, gumby,' Ginny said lightly.

'I know that,' Harry grumbled.

Ginny pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes. 'Want me to do it?'

Irritated, Harry shook his head. 'Alohamora.' The door opened a sliver and Harry cautiously used the tip of his wand to open it further.

'How nice. Snape left you a few dust bunnies,' Ginny remarked dryly. 'And a few scraps of parchment.'

Harry glanced at Ginny's bag. 'Have your dragon hide gloves with you?'

'Yeah.' Ginny rooted through the bag and unearthed her gloves.

'Can I borrow them?'

Ginny looked doubtfully at Harry's hands. 'Don't think they'll fit you. And you're not charming to fit, either,' she told him briskly, drawing the gloves over her hands. She reached into the cupboard and took out what proved to be part of a photograph and the final page of a letter. 'Isn't this your mum?' she asked, holding out the photograph.

Harry gingerly took it from her. 'Yeah... It is.' His eyes began to sting and he blinked rapidly. It was the missing half of the photograph from his first birthday. Lily sat cross-legged on the sitting room rug, giggling, saying something Harry couldn't make out to either himself or James.

'And this?' Ginny gave him the parchment.

'Mum was writing to Sirius,' Harry explained. 'He'd sent a toy broomstick for my birthday. The rest of it was how they were doing in Godric's Hollow. I think they'd only just moved there.' Harry looked down at the parchment. The conclusion of the letter was brief, but Harry was more interested in the looping signature at the bottom. -Lily-.

'How did Snape get them?'

Harry dropped into a hard chair, his knees feeling suddenly weak. 'He went to Grimmauld Place after... Dumbledore's...' Harry could feel his throat close. He inhaled slowly. 'He found these in Sirius' old bedroom.'

Ginny frowned. 'I didn't think Sirius lived there after he ran away from home,' she said. 'Not until the Order started using it.'

'Sirius had a flat,' Harry murmured. 'After they finished school, Remus lived there with him. I suppose Remus brought all of Sirius' things to Grimmauld Place when the Order moved in.' He looked down at the scraps of photograph and parchment in his hands. To anyone else, they were worthless, but to Harry he would have rather had them than all the gold in his Gringotts vault.

'Why would Snape only take those bits?' Ginny wondered.

Harry smiled and ran a hand through his hair. 'Because the letter was to Sirius, of course,' he told her. 'If you were Snape, would you want to have a letter that starts off, "Dear Padfoot"?'

'Well, when you put it that way,' Ginny replied, arranging herself in Harry's lap. He was sitting in the only chair in the room. 'And the photograph?'

'It had Dad and me in it as well,' Harry explained. 'It's the one on the wall next to the bed in Bill's room.'

'Ah.'

'Dad and Snape didn't really get on with each other,' Harry added. 'And considering how Snape felt about Mum,' Harry trailed off.

'Understandable,' Ginny said. 'If I found a photo of you with Cho, I'd rip her right out of it.' She looked down at Harry's face. 'What's wrong?'

'Oh, nothing, really. Just thinking...'

'And...?'

'Just all the "what ifs". What if Snape hadn't turned to the Dark Arts when he was younger? What if Dad didn't get such joy out of taking the mickey out of Snape? What if Snape hadn't gone to Dumbledore with Riddle's plan to get rid of me? What if Snape hadn't saved my life on more than one occasion here...?'

'I hate it when you do that,' Ginny said neutrally.

'Do what?'

'Talk about Snape like he was doing any of this out of a sense of altruism,' Ginny huffed. 'Because you don't really think he was doing it for you, do you?' Harry's brows drew together slightly and Ginny held up the photograph. 'He did it all for her.'

Harry snatched the photograph from Ginny. 'I know,' he muttered. 'But it's not fair. He wasn't such an evil git as everyone thought. In need of a good shampoo, sure... Selfish and vindictive, okay. But he was never on the same level of evil as Lucius Malfoy.'

Ginny exhaled. 'Whew. And for a moment there, I thought you'd lost your mind.'

'Not yet.' Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny. 'I need to go. It's Narcissa Malfoy's turn today.' He rested his forehead against her shoulder. 'At least she's easy.' Ginny slid off Harry's lap and offered him a hand. Harry grasped it as he stood up. They walked in companionable silence to the entrance of the school. 'I'll see you Saturday,' Harry murmured before kissing Ginny. He'd meant it to be somewhat casual, considering classes were about to dismiss, but the second his mouth landed on hers, his arms tightened around her waist and he lifted her off her feet, giving in to the demands of his fevered imagination. Reluctantly, he let her slide back to the floor and broke off the kiss. 'Saturday,' he promised, then walked away using his wand to open the heavy door.

*****

Harry dashed though the maze of cubicles and threw his coat over the wall of his own small cubicle, before running at full speed to the lifts. 'Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn...' he muttered, punching the button. He was late. He glared at the lift doors and began to repeatedly jab the button, muttering, 'Come on, come on...'

'It doesn't come any faster if you keep mashing the button like that,' a snide voice said behind Harry. Avery Carmichael stood just slightly behind and to the left of Harry.

'Bugger off, Avery,' Harry murmured, glancing impatiently over his shoulder.

'It's your own fault,' Avery taunted. 'Skiving off and going up to Hogwarts like that.'

Harry spun around. 'What I did at Hogwarts is none of your concern,' he spat. 'Besides, McGonagall sent for me.' The doors slid apart and Harry ducked into the lift and resolutely kept his gaze on the floor. He'd had an uneasy relationship with Avery since he'd captured Nott. Avery's outright scorn had evolved into grudging respect. But occasionally, like now, Avery couldn't resist giving Harry a not-so-subtle jab, just to see Harry's hackles rise. The ride to Level One was over in seconds and Harry quickly made his way to the same small conference room where he'd given testimony for Lucius Malfoy.

He burst through the door, panting slightly. Narcissa Malfoy glanced up, startled. Her face quickly smoothed into neutral lines and she resumed her intent examination of her folded hands, resting on top of the table. She was alone in the room. 'The gentlemen from the Wizengamot left to fetch something a moment ago,' she told Harry, still not looking at him. 'They said they would return presently.'

'Oh. Erm... thanks...' Harry dropped into a chair across the table from Narcissa, several chairs away from her. He furtively studied her while they waited for the Wizengamot wizards. He had only seen Narcissa a handful of times in his life, and many of those had been during periods of great personal stress, Harry now knew. He was amazed at her ability to remain cool and seemingly aloof. The only instance where he had seen anything other than that remote expression on her face had been during the battle at school when she and Lucius had been frantically searching for Draco. Harry wondered if much of anything, other than her son, would make the façade crack.

'Why are you doing this?' Narcissa asked suddenly in the tense silence.

Harry shrugged. 'Hasn't everybody suffered enough?' he shot back in a low voice. 'And if it weren't -' He was cut off by the two Wizengamot members entering the room.

As the first one settled into his chair, he began, 'Potter, you maintain that Mrs. Malfoy did not actively participate in any of the activities of the past year, correct?'

'Yeah...' Harry could feel cold sweat trickling down his back. 'I, erm, saw her... at Malfoy Manor, when Charity Burbage was killed...' he admitted slowly. 'She was there...'

'And she didn't do anything to actively stop it?' the other wizard asked coldly.

'Would you?' Harry challenged. 'If Voldemort was sitting three feet away from you, would you have risked the life of you, your husband, or your son and only child to interfere?' he asked incredulously.

'Isn't that what your own mother did?' retorted the second wizard.

'What my mother did is hardly relevant to this case,' Harry said pointedly.

'Isn't it?' the second wizard asked archly.

Harry gazed at the wizard thoughtfully. 'You don't know what it's like,' he said conversationally. 'Voldemort didn't care who he killed or tortured, not even his own followers. And you're going to sit here and proclaim that she's less of a mother because she didn't do what mine did?' Harry's eyes flicked to Narcissa and back to the wizard. 'She did what she felt was right by her son. She tried to protect him in the only way she knew, because trust me, self-sacrifice isn't exactly a quality cultivated by the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black,' he added sardonically. 'And she saved my life. The first time I faced Voldemort the night of the battle in the Forbidden Forest. He thought I was dead and told her to check. She knew I was alive and she lied to him. And yeah, so what if it was just to make sure her son was alive and she probably didn't care what happened to me after that? She still did it.' Harry sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring defiantly at the wizard.

The wizard flushed angrily, but bit back his angry retort. 'So you're saying Mrs. Malfoy was never a Death Eater, nor a supporter of Voldemort?'

'Check her arm, for Merlin's sake, if you want to see if she's a Death Eater,' Harry sighed. 'But in every instance where I had the misfortune to meet up with the Death Eaters, Narcissa Malfoy was not one of them. Her husband, yes. Her son, yes. But that doesn't make her one, does it? And as for whether or not she actively supported him, I can only guess...'

*****

Of all the people Ginny expected to see in the entrance of Hogwarts, it was not Fleur. But there she was, a basket on one arm, shaking snowflakes from her silvery hair. 'Ginny!' Fleur exclaimed. ''ow lovely to see you.'

'Hello, Fleur,' Ginny murmured.

''ave you seen Bill?' Fleur asked. 'He 'ad to work late, so I zought I would bring heem somezing to eat...' She held up the basket.

'Out by the Owlery, I think.'

'Merci, Ginny.'

Fleur started to walk away, when Ginny remembered something Hermione had suggested. 'Fleur, wait! I'll... I'll go with you...' stammered Ginny. She hurried to catch up with Fleur.

'Zat would be nice,' Fleur said, smiling. 'I steel geet lost in zis place...'

They walked in near-uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Ginny never knew what to say to her sister-in-law, especially since she had despised her for so long. 'Erm... Fleur...?'

'Hmm?'

'Can I... That is, could I...?' Ginny cleared her throat. 'May I ask you something? It's a bit personal,' she added, giving Fleur the opportunity to say no.

'Of course.' Fleur turned her attention to Ginny, who was staring straight ahead.

'How did you know it was Bill?' Ginny asked tightly. 'I mean, how did you know Bill was really in love with you and not the veela?'

To Ginny's surprise, Fleur's cheeks colored rosily. ''e was normal,' she said, with a light laugh. 'Most of ze ozzer boys or men I knew zat tried to geet my attention would say anyzing to try and eempress me, or fall over zeir feet around me, but not Bill. 'e never, ever treated me like I was some fragile zing zat might blow off - poof - in ze breeze.' Fleur's shoulder rose and fell in a delicate shrug. 'Bill was normal,' she repeated, as if it explained everything.

They came to the bottom of the stairs that led to the Owlery. 'I think they might be on the other side,' Ginny told Fleur, gesturing toward the other side of the tower.

'Zank you, Ginny,' Fleur chimed. 'For ze company.'

'You're welcome,' Ginny replied. 'And thanks for the talk.'

'I'm surprised you 'ad to ask,' Fleur said peacefully. 'Considering zat is 'ow you and 'arry treat each ozzer.' Before Ginny could blink, Fleur swiftly kissed each cheek, before murmuring, 'Au revoire, Ginny. I will see you during ze holiday, yes?'

'Yeah.'

'Ah, zere ees Bill!' Fleur cried, waving a farewell at Ginny, before gliding away to meet Bill. Ginny hid behind one of the large shrubs around the base of the tower, watching Bill greet his wife. While every other wizard tripped over their feet or nearly lost their eyes in looking at Fleur, Bill reacted just the way Fleur had said. It was as if the veela didn't exist.

*****

Ginny settled on the foot of Hermione's bed, her back against one of the posts. 'So?' Hermione asked, casting nonverbal charms around the curtains of her bed to keep the noise of their conversation from disturbing Demelza.

'So what?' Ginny asked innocently.

'Well,' Hermione began, 'I saw you with Fleur earlier. Without someone holding a wand to your head,' she added wryly.

'Maybe she's not as horrid as I thought,' Ginny admitted. 'And she does make a lot of sense.' Ginny let the surprise register on Hermione's face before quickly adding, 'Sometimes.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'She's not an idiot,' she pointed out. 'After all, the Goblet did pick her to represent Beauxbatons. You can't be flighty and compete in the Triwzard,' Hermione said, deliberately mimicking Percy's tones.

'She said something,' Ginny said slowly. Hermione's brow swept up in silent inquiry and Ginny continued. 'She said that Harry and I treat each other as if we were normal...'

'You do.'

Ginny gnawed her thumbnail. 'But shouldn't it be more... special?'

Hermione shook her hair from her eyes. 'But it is, don't you see? The two of you don't have to try and perform around each other, or try to live up to some barmy ideal.' She pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. 'That, in of itself, is very special. There are people who live their entire life and never have that.'

'It's like Mum and Dad...' Ginny murmured. 'Mum can go out of her tree because the twins spent all their free time making prank sweets, or Dad can collect batteries until they come out of his ears... And none of it matters at all...' She pulled her hair over her shoulder and began to plait it, face growing pensive. 'Luna said something a few months ago... What she didn't want to do with...' She unfolded her legs from under her and grasped the curtain with one hand. 'Better get to bed. Train leaves early tomorrow.' She slid off Hermione's bed and padded the few feet to her own, slipping into the warm bedding.

Sleep didn't come easily to Ginny that night. Too many images overflowed her memory, chasing each other fits and starts.

*****

As Hogsmeade faded into the distance, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Dean, and Hannah settled into their compartment. Conversation meandered from topic to topic in fits and starts, but it was never uncomfortable or tense, merely the result of an early morning and the intense schedule of a seventh year student. Near the end of the journey, Dean looked across the compartment at Luna, and nudged her ankle, propped on the seat next to him. 'What are you and your dad doing for the holiday?' he asked curiously. Luna had missed Christmas last year with her father, spending the next four months in the dungeon underneath Malfoy Manor, after being kidnapped from King's Cross by Death Eaters.

'Oh, Daddy's finally rebuilt the house and he and I will probably do what we normally do.'

'Plimpy soup?' Hermione guessed, recalling Xenophilius' boast that his recipe had been most sought after by others.

'And make paper chains to put on Mum's grave,' Luna added quietly. 'With asters. She liked asters,' Luna explained. She stared into the distance. 'We don't have a big do, Daddy and I. Maybe because Mum died the week before Christmas. It was her favorite time of year and ever since she died, Daddy tried to keep up with what Mum liked to do, but his heart isn't really in it anymore.' She shrugged. 'So we don't really make a fuss.' Luna used her toes to prod Dean lightly. 'What about you?'

Dean fiddled with the laces of Luna's trainers. 'I'm going home,' he said slowly after a long pause. 'I haven't been since I left summer before last.' He rubbed his eyes roughly with one hand. 'My ...' Dean swallowed hard. 'My dad makes ham and candied sweet potatoes. Like he had when he was a kid. With plum pudding for afters. And we'll go to church on Christmas Eve. And Katherine and Charlotte will wait up for Father Christmas, and fall asleep on the hearth rug instead. The last time I was home for Christmas, Charlotte woke everyone up at five-thirty in the morning.'

'Does your mum know?' Ginny asked softly.

Dean shook his head. 'I wanted it to be a surprise,' he admitted. 'We're... talking...' He looked quickly out the window and Hannah quickly changed the subject.

'Neville's gran invited my dad and me to their house for Christmas dinner,' she said a little too loudly.

'Really?' Hermione asked. 'How did that happen?'

'Well...' Hannah scratched her nose meditatively. 'Dad ran into Mrs. Longbottom in Diagon Alley while he was Christmas shopping, and she demanded to know if he was going to provide a proper dinner for us. When Dad said we were planning to go to The Leaky Cauldron, she told him that was a load of rubbish and I deserved a home cooked meal for the holiday.' Hannah laughed. 'I think she's trying to fix up Neville and me so we can get married and start producing great-grandchildren for her the second I finish school.' Hannah bent double, laughing harder. 'Honestly! Can you imagine? Me and Neville? We have nothing in common except the color of our hair.' She sobered a little. 'I don't think we're going. Tom's related to my dad down the line. I think he's Dad's great-grandmother's cousin's nephew or something... We've been having Christmas dinner with Tom since I was a little girl.'

'I didn't know you were related to Tom,' Luna said.

'Yeah. When my mum died, he made sure Dad had meals until I came home from school.' Hannah gestured to Hermione and Ginny. 'What about the two of you?'

'Christmas Eve at the Burrow and Christmas Day with my mum and dad,' Hermione told her. 'I think Ron's going to have dinner with us on Boxing Day. Challenge my dad to a round or two of chess. Although why I need to be there for that, I have no idea,' Hermione added with a shudder. 'I'd rather sit in a History of Magic class with Binns for twelve hours...'

'Just hanging round the house,' Ginny said off-handedly. 'I'll probably go help George and Ron in the shop for some extra pocket money. Try to figure out what color my jumper is this year. If Mum did Ron's in a color other than maroon.'

'Probably not,' interjected Hermione.

'Totally a lost cause,' Ginny agreed.

*****

'All right dears,' Molly said, fastening a pair of earrings. 'There's a pot of stew on the stove for your dinner and do try not to stay up too late.' She glanced impatiently at the door. 'Arthur, for goodness' sake, hurry! We're late!'

Ginny reached into the cupboard to set two places on one end of the scrubbed wooden table. 'Where're they going?' she asked Harry in an undertone.

'Some Ministry holiday do,' Harry told her, taking cutlery from a drawer.

'Why aren't you going? You're a Ministry employee.'

'Didn't want to go,' Harry said, shrugging. 'And I figured you wouldn't really feel like getting all dolled up to eat inedible canapés and mingle with people twice our age.'

'You do love me,' Ginny breathed fervently.

'Ginny, dear,' Molly said hurriedly. 'Why do you only have two places set? George is here.'

'Oh, right.' Ginny flicked her wand at the cupboard and another bowl flew to the table.

'Molly, I can't...' Arthur stumbled into the kitchen, trying to knot the tie of his dress robes.

'Let me, Arthur.' Molly carelessly jabbed her wand at Arthur, and the tie unraveled, then wound itself into an elegant knot.

'Brilliant,' Arthur grunted. 'We'll be home by midnight,' he informed Harry and Ginny. 'Just be inside the house by then, all right?' He held out a hand to Molly. 'Come on, Molly. Let's go show all those young pups how to have a good time.' They dashed out of the door and soon, Harry and Ginny heard the faint pop of their Disapparition.

Ginny ladled stew into two of the bowls and began to eat. It had been a long time since the witch had come by her compartment on the train with the tea trolley. Harry ignored his own bowl, pushing it aside.

'I want to show you my parents' house,' he blurted.