The First Day

If at all possible, the pub had gotten even more crowded in the few hours they had been upstairs. 'How are we going to get through all that?' Ron wondered.

Hermione peered around Ron's shoulder, gazing over the Leaky Cauldron. 'We're closer to the Diagon Alley entrance,' she pointed out. 'We could go the shop until things clear up a bit,' she suggested.

'I think there's some butterbeers in the kitchen of the flat,' Ginny added. 'At least there were when Percy and I came to pack up the twins' things that were still there.'

'George keeps biscuits and tea in the backroom,' Ron said.

'And we've hardly touched what's in the handbag,' Hermione reminded them.

'Brilliant,' Harry breathed. 'Let's go.'

Clasping each other's hands, they wormed through the crowd to the back door, and Harry tapped the bricks with his wand. They burst through the opening in the wall, each of them sighing with relief. It was almost just as crowded in the street, making Apparition dangerous. A slim, dark woman flung her arms around Harry, kissing him full on the mouth. His eyes widened with surprise, and his hands wrapped around her upper arms and Harry forcibly pushed the woman away from him. 'Ah, come on, then, Harry... Why don't we bring in the new year together?'

Harry spat repeatedly on the ground, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 'Geroff,' he grunted, staring at none other than Pansy Parkinson. 'You!' he blurted. 'You tried to sell me out to Voldemort! What are you playing at?'

Pansy swayed drunkenly, reaching out to grab Harry's sleeve to steady herself. 'Let's let bygones by bygones, shall we...?' She took another step toward Harry, but the tip of a wand at the base of her throat arrested her movements.

'Touch him again, and you'll wish you hadn't,' Ginny said calmly.

'Ginny...' Ron started to tug her arm down, but she shook him off.

'Bugger off, Ron,' Ginny said quietly.

Pansy chuckled tipsily. 'And what do you think you're going to do, little girl?'

Ginny smiled widely, and without saying a word, slashed her wand through the air. Boils erupted all over Pansy's face. 'Thought I'd do that,' she said in satisfaction. 'Of course, I could also do this.' The wand jabbed toward Pansy's nose and giant, sticky, flapping bogies attached themselves to Pansy's face. 'Happy new year,' she said with sickening sweetness. Ginny flounced off in the direction of the shop.

'Did you have to hex her twice?' Ron said incredulously.

Ginny spun around. 'How would you feel if other blokes kept putting their hands all over Hermione, then one of them had the gall to try and snog her - in front of you!?'

'Oh, well, yeah...'

'And it was Pansy! Merlin's bollocks, Ron! She was only the biggest slag at school! If Malfoy thought he was the only one shagging her, he was wrong. Ought to start checking that his willy doesn't fall off because she's given him some nasty disease.'

'That was brilliant!' Harry said delightedly, slinging an arm around Ginny's waist. He bent to kiss Ginny, but she held up a hand between their faces.

'Not until you've brushed your teeth...'

'Right.'

'Let's get inside. It's cold out here,' Ron complained. He opened the door of the shop and held it open. The other three trooped inside, shaking snow from their cloaks and hair.

'When do you think you're going to try moving in here?' Hermione asked.

'You're moving?' Harry blurted, feeling more than a bit hurt.

Ron sighed heavily. 'You know, Hermione, I hadn't said anything to anyone else yet...' He went into the back room, and rummaged in a cupboard. 'Go on up. I'll just fetch the tea and biscuits,' he mumbled.

'Why didn't you tell me?' Harry fought to keep the plaintive note from his voice.

Ron emerged from the cupboard with a dusty teakettle, a tin of tea, and a chipped pot. 'Grab the cups in there, would you?' Harry reached into the cupboard and pulled out four mismatched mugs. 'It just occurred to me before Christmas,' he told Harry. 'I thought it would be much easier to just live here. I haven't asked George yet if I can live upstairs yet. I haven't even talked to Mum and Dad about it.'

'You think they'd make a fuss?'

Ron set the tea things on the scarred table and ran a hand through his hair. 'I don't think Mum and Dad will. Well, Mum might, at first, but Dad'll talk her down. I just don't think George will be chuffed about letting me live there.'

'Does it have to be here?'

'Well, no,' Ron admitted. 'It's just convenient, innit? I thought I was going to Splinch myself Christmas Eve, I was so tired. But it's a waste of a decent flat to leave it empty. I mean, I miss Fred as much as nearly everybody, but I can't see the point in keeping the flat vacant like it is.'

'And if George says no?'

Ron shrugged and grabbed the teakettle, and began to head up the stairs. 'Then I'll find something else.'

Harry followed him, the mugs dangling from his fingers. 'Hey, Ron?'

'Yeah?'

'My next assignment, it might be dangerous.'

Ron smirked. 'Aren't they all?'

Harry sat down on a riser midway up the stairs. 'This one's different. It's in a Muggle area of Belfast and there've been some rather violent protests there.'

'Okay...'

'So we won't be able to use as much magic to protect ourselves, unless we have to.'

'Obviously.'

'I haven't said anything, because I didn't want your mum and dad to worry, but they're listed on my paperwork... in case I get hurt or...'

Ron slowly exhaled, and he joined Harry on the riser. 'Oh...'

'You're all on the list of people allowed to visit at St Mungo's, though,' Harry added in forced cheeriness.

'That's comforting,' Ron snorted.

'I'll do my best not to end up there.'

Ron stood up, his back sliding up the wall. 'I'll believe that when I see it. How many times did you end up in the hospital wing in school?'

'Erm....' Harry self-consciously ruffled his hair. 'Enough times to cover four pages for my medical history in my Ministry file.'

'Bloody hell.'

Harry pushed himself to his feet. 'Yeah. I had a cramp in my hand after I finished filling it out.'

Ron continued up the stairs. 'You know, there's room for two in here. You can come with me.'

'I'll think about it.'

Ginny looked up from the battered sofa where she lounged with her feet propped up on the coffee table. 'Think about what?'

'Staying here with Ron.'

Ginny stared at Harry as if he had suddenly spouted an extra head. 'And I used to think you were somewhat sane...'

'You've lived with him almost all your life,' Harry told her.

'Yes, but that's involuntary.'

Ron threw a small pillow at them. 'I'm right here!'

Ginny dodged the pillow and tossed it back to Ron. 'You know I love you, git.'

'I can feel the love in the room,' Hermione said dryly from the corner, where she fiddled with an old wireless, idly scrolling from station to station until she came to something she deemed suitable. She dropped her cloak over the back of a chair and began to unpack her handbag. She waved her wand in the air and a toothbrush floated in front of Harry. 'I believe you have something you need to do.'

Harry grabbed the toothbrush and looked at her expectantly. 'Toothpaste?'

'Do I need to do everything?' Hermione asked archly.

'Yes,' Ron and Harry said at the same time.

Hermione pursed her lips in a disapproving frown, but flicked her wand in Harry's direction, making a small tube of toothpaste appear. 'Happy now?'

'I know I am,' Ginny murmured.

'Glad I could help,' Harry muttered. He strode into the small bathroom, and proceeded to scrub his teeth, making sure he brushed each and every crevice. When he finally emerged from the bathroom, Ginny was sitting on one of the windowsills, gazing at the scene in the street below. 'Where're Ron and Hermione?'

'They went up to the roof right after you left to brush your teeth. Took the wireless with them, too.'

Harry dropped the toothbrush to the table and walked to the window. 'Fancy giving that dancing thing another try? Might be better without all those women molesting me.'

'I'd love to...'

A tune played in the recesses of Harry's memory, one he remembered hearing on the wireless through the cupboard under the stairs as a child. He began to hum it softly, as his arms wrapped around Ginny's waist. 'Are you really thinking of moving out of the Burrow?' Ginny asked.

Harry nodded. 'Not that I don't appreciate everything your mum and dad have done, but it's time for me to find my own place.'

Ginny's head tipped back so she could examine Harry's face. 'Really?'

Harry took a deep breath, surprised to find the idea of going out on his own didn't envelop him with choking fear anymore. And he knew he'd always be welcome at the Burrow. 'Really.'

'Are you thinking about...?' Ginny bit her lip, cheeks flaming. 'Never mind.'

'Grimmauld Place?' Harry guessed. Ginny nodded, her eyes fixed on Harry's loosened tie. 'I really don't know,' he confessed. 'I can't live there. Well, I suppose I can, but I don't really want to. That house is...' Harry hesitated. 'Evil,' he finished. 'It's poisonous. You could clean it until it's damn near sterile, but it'll still be there. No wonder Sirius nearly went mad. I didn't really want the house to begin with, anyway. I can't sell it. The more I try to think about what to do with it, the more dead ends I hit.' He sighed and laced his fingers through Ginny's. 'I don't have to do anything about it now, I suppose.'

'What time are you leaving on Monday?'

'Early. Before six.'

'Oh...' Ginny's arms tightened around his waist and she rested her head against his shoulder. 'Is it dangerous, this assignment?'

'It shouldn't be,' Harry assured her, feeling a twinge of guilt. 'It's just observation.'

'When will you be back?'

'I don't know. I mean, I'll be back for the Malfoys' trials, but after that, I'll have to return to...' He hesitated.

'You can't tell me, can you?'

Harry shook his head. 'No.'

'Can you tell me what you're doing?'

'A little... Not all the Death Eaters were captured after the battle. And we think they might be behind some incidents going on. And if not involved directly, then stirring things up.' He gently touched the side of Ginny's face. 'I'll come tell you goodbye before I leave, all right?'

'All right...'

*****

'Ron?'

'Hmmm?'

'If Harry lives here, where I am going to sleep?'

'You'd want to live here?' Ron asked in surprise, nearly dropping his wand as he completed the last Warming charm on the roof. 'B-b-b-but it's small and sort of dark...'

'Well, I wouldn't want to raise a family here,' Hermione said matter-of-factly.

'Family?' Ron said faintly. True, he had thought about it, but as an abstract concept - a possibility - many, many years into the future.

In the dim light, Hermione could see his freckles stand out starkly against his skin. She fought to keep from laughing outright. She settled in a battered chair and popped a grape into her mouth. 'Mmm-hmmm. I thought we might outdo your parents and have eight.' Ron's only reply was a strangled gurgle. 'Maybe they'll all be girls, since that famous Weasley boys-only curse seems to have been broken with Ginny.'

'Girls...' Ron echoed hollowly, wheezing.

Hermione threw a grape at him, hitting him squarely on the forehead. 'Oh, honestly, Ronald!' she laughed. 'I'm not even finished with school yet and the last thing I want is eight children.' She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose. 'But one day it might be nice to have some.'

'How many sprogs do you want?' Ron couldn't keep the fear out of his voice.

'More than one, less than eight.'

'That narrows it down a bit,' Ron muttered, picking up a sandwich.

'I hated being an only child,' Hermione said. 'Didn't get on with other children at school until Hogwarts, and the only people I had to play with were my parents...'

'Well, we don't have to make any decisions about that sort of thing now, do we?'

'No, we don't.'

*****

Molly set a cup of tea in front of George, who sat at the kitchen table, staring into space. 'Knut for your thoughts, dear?'

George blinked, gazing bemusedly at the cup in front of him. 'I did something stupid last night...' he began.

Molly settled into the chair next to his and delicately sniffed the air around him. 'You don't seem like you drank too much.'

'Oh, if only I had...'

Molly picked up George's hand and shoved the sleeve of his shirt back. 'You didn't go and get one of those Muggle tattoos, did you?'

'No, but that would have been less barmy than what I did.' George's head fell to the table and he proceeded to bang his head against the table repeatedly. 'You know Katie?'

'Yes. She's a lovely girl.'

'Right. Well, at the party last night, I told her I'm in love with her...'

'Well, that's not so bad,' Molly said soothingly.

'Oh, it gets worse,' George muttered. 'You know how when a bunch of people are together and they're all talking, then all of a sudden-like, it gets really quiet?'

'Yes...'

'That's when it happened.'

'Oh my. I suppose that would be a bit embarrassing.'

'It was.' George looked at his cup of tea as if he'd never seen one before. 'I told her everything... How I used to visit her every day when she was ill...' He began to laugh, a hysterical edge to his guffaws. 'I don't know what to do now... I mean when I'm with her, I'm happy, and I'm not really happy anywhere else...'

'Does she feel the same way about you?'

George sighed and let his head fall back to the table. 'I think so. I don't know,' he said miserably. 'And I'm almost afraid to find out...'

*****

Katie crawled on the floor of the small sitting room of her flat, searching under the sofa and bookcase, in the corners. She couldn't remember what George had done with her book. She had spent most of the morning looking for it to no avail. 'Maybe he walked out with it...' she muttered, wincing at the sizable dust bunnies under the sofa. She sat back on her heels, and picked up a large mug that was now half-filled with cold tea. The loud knock on her door made her slosh tea down the front of her Kenmare t-shirt. Katie lurched to her feet and scrambled for the door, yanking it open. 'Geo...' She could feel the smile on her face fade. 'Oh, it's you.' Katie stepped back, pulling the edges of her dressing gown over the tea stains on her shirt.

'Good morning to you, too,' Martin said dryly, sauntering into the flat.

Katie's jaw clenched and she refrained from slamming the door shut. 'Haven't you forgotten something?' she asked coldly, carrying her mug into the kitchen, and dumping the cold tea down the sink.

'Oh, sorry.' Martin gave her a loud, smacking kiss. 'There. All better?'

Katie tapped her teakettle with her wand and steam rose from the spout. 'No. It's not all better,' she spat, pouring hot water over the tea leaves in the tea pot.

'What's wrong with you?' Martin asked, peering at Katie. 'You go out on a bender last night?'

'No, I did not go out on a bender last night. I went to Lee Jordan's party. Remember? You were supposed to be there,' she said.

'I went somewhere else,' Martin said with a shrug.

'And you couldn't be bothered to let me know?' Katie asked, incredulous.

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, Katie, it's not like we're in a serious relationship,' Martin scoffed.

Katie stopped pouring tea into her mug, and gently set the tea pot down on the counter. 'You know, Martin, you're right. We're hardly even friends. But still, even acquaintances treat each other with the common decency you'd show a dog. You should have let me know you weren't coming. You made me look like a fool.'

'Oh, right. I was looking forward to spending an evening in the company of Weasley,' Martin said sarcastically. 'Surly git, that one...'

Katie suddenly began to laugh. She had seen this moment coming for ages; she just hadn't wanted to admit it. Martin might not have been the brightest bloke, but he was decent company, and Katie hated being alone. But she couldn't deny it any longer. 'Right. I'm done.'

Martin frowned. 'What?'

'It was nice while it lasted, but really Martin, we barely have anything in common. It's best if we just don't see each other like this anymore...' Katie gestured toward the door. Martin blinked. Once. He turned and left the flat, slamming the door so hard, it rattled on its hinges. Katie picked up her mug with a sigh of relief, feeling as if she had dodged a particularly nasty hex. It could have gone so much worse than it had.

*****

Harry lay staring at the fuzzy shadows on the ceiling. He reached for his watch and brought it close to his nose, squinting a little to bring its face into a semblance of focus. It wasn't yet five in the morning, but he had been awake for some time. Sighing, he threw the bedding back and began to dress in the dark, adroitly avoiding Teddy's cot. He'd slept in Bill's room so he wouldn't disturb Ron. He tiptoed up the stairs, feeling the cold seep through his thick socks, to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He crept back down to the first floor and grabbed his boots, intending to put them on once he got into the kitchen. Harry hesitated outside Ginny's bedroom door. He had promised to tell her goodbye before he left but it was so early. Nonetheless, he carefully twisted the doorknob. Ginny was awake, sitting up in bed, staring at the cover of a much-abused novel. 'What are you doing up?' he whispered.

Ginny's head ducked a little. 'Couldn't sleep.' She set the book down and laced her fingers together.

Harry sat on the edge of her bed and shoved his feet into his boots, tying the laces. 'Have you slept at all?'

She shook her head. 'Not really. You?'

Harry's mouth tipped upward in an ironic smile. 'Not very much.' He cupped the back of Ginny's head in one hand and kissed her. 'I'll be back before you know it. If something goes wrong, your mum and dad will know, but nothing ought to go wrong,' he said quickly. 'I'll owl you as soon as I can when I'm back.' He started to slide off the bed, but Ginny lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

'Don't do anything stupid,' she said softly. 'Because if something goes horribly wrong, and you die, I will kill you, all right?'

'I'll try my best.'

Ginny laughed shakily, sitting back a bit. 'I'll hold you to that.' She kissed him with a thoroughness that left him dizzy. 'Be careful...'

Harry nodded, then slid off the bed, squeezing Ginny's hand. He strode out of the bedroom, without looking back, and went into the scullery to collect the knapsack he'd left there the night before, and left the house, Disapparating before the garden gate closed behind him.

*****

George closed the door and tapped the sign in its window with his wand so it read "Closed". He'd sent Ron home once the shop had been tidied for the day and pulled out the notes he'd made from his failed attempts to create new products over the past several weeks, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. 'I ought to have paid more attention in Potions,' he grumbled to the quiet, empty shop. The door slammed open and Summerby stood in the open doorway, his normally pleasantly bland face set into mutinous lines. George stared at him for a moment, then said mildly, 'We're closed.'

'You won,' Summerby said shortly.

'I won what?' George asked, confused.

'And people say I'm thick.' With that Summerby turned and left, leaving the door swaying in the cold wind.

George stared thoughtfully after him, then jabbed his wand at the door, closing it once more.

*****

Harry sat at a table in a nondescript flat in Belfast, poring over copies of documents from other Aurors and the Muggle authorities. He's been absentmindedly running his hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray, the fringe sticking up. Emma Greene, the lone female Auror on this assignment, gazed at Harry for a moment. 'Have you ever thought of using Transfiguration to hide...?' she asked, gesturing toward her forehead.

Startled, Harry used the palm of one hand to flatten his fringe back over the scar. 'Not especially,' he muttered.

'Ignore her, lad,' Peter advised. 'Emma and the concept of personal space aren't more than nodding acquaintances.' Harry shrugged, and returned to his perusal of a report.

'You ought to,' Avery blurted. 'Makes you stick out.'

Harry sighed and set the report down. 'Why should I?' he asked levelly, feeling his pulse jump at the base of his throat.

'So you don't jeopardize the case.'

Harry began to grind his teeth together. 'You can't completely change the way you look with Transfiguration.'

'Yes, you can.'

'You can't,' Harry corrected coldly. 'Even Animagi can't do that. Professor McGonagall's Animagus form always has markings around the eyes that look like her glasses. My godfather's Animagus form had eyes that were the same color as his.' Harry snorted with mirthless laughter. 'Even Rita-bloody-Skeeter's form has markings like those damn glasses she wears.'

'That's just Animagi,' Avery countered.

'No, it's not,' Harry retorted. Peter and Emma watched silently, their heads turning from side to side like spectators at a tennis match. 'My friend Hermione, she's almost as good as McGonagall at Transfiguration. But even she can't make certain things about her appearance change. She can make her hair longer, shorter, change the color. But it's always frizzy. I can't change my eye color. No matter what we did last year, how old she tried to make me look, they were always like this,' Harry growled, pointing to his eyes. 'My mate from school, Seamus, always had freckles, just over his nose, and even McGonagall said they would always be there, no matter what he did.'

Avery's lips pressed together in a thin line visibly put out at being proved wrong by Harry. He snatched a file from the table and flung it open.

'Your friend Hermione sounds like she'd make a good Auror,' Emma said lightly.

'No, she wouldn't,' Harry said. 'Her spell work is dead-on, but she doesn't make split-second decisions very well.'

'That's a bit harsh,' Emma objected.

'No, it's the truth,' Harry said bluntly. 'And if you asked Hermione, she'd probably say the same thing. Hermione's brilliant, but that doesn't mean she's going to make the best decision for the situation on a moment's notice.'

'I thought you were friends,' Avery muttered snidely.

'We are.' Harry resumed his perusal of the report in his hands. 'And she'll be the first one to tell you I'm impetuous and too emotional, and I have a tendency to fixate on certain people or ideas. That I'm too stubborn.' Harry scribbled a few notes in his notebook, and replaced the file on the table. 'I won't do anything to jeopardize the assignment,' he said quietly.

'It's time for dinner, anyway,' Peter pronounced. 'Last time you'll get a regular meal for a while.'

Without being asked, Harry flicked his wand at a cupboard, and potatoes began to scrub themselves, and a peeler flew from a drawer to peel carrots. He smirked at Avery. 'I can cook, you know. I'm not just a pretty face,' he said sarcastically.

Emma pulled a stack of plates from the cupboard. 'I'm sorry...' she said softly. 'I didn't mean to start something...'

'Don't worry about it,' Harry told her. 'Just another day on the job.'

*****

Harry leaned against a wall, listening to a speaker at a rally. The politics, the finger-pointing made his stomach turn. It reminded him uncomfortably of what he'd lived through for almost half his life. He tugged the dark blue cap lower over his forehead, making sure his hair and the scar were securely under it. He scanned the crowd, searching for one of the Death Eaters that hadn't been captured. -Avery... Urquhart... Flint... Mulciber... he said to himself. Those were the only ones left. The others had been captured and were either under house arrest, like Draco and Lucius Malfoy, or in Azkaban, like Miles Nott.

He let the words slide through his ears. They weren't important. Not right now. He needed to find out if they were involved. Harry began to circle around the crowd, eyes darting over the assembled men and women. While he didn't think Avery, Urquhart, Flint, or Mulciber was using Polyjuice, he couldn't rule it out. Nor could he rule out that they might have Transfigured something about their appearance - their hair, their nose. Harry had spent hours studying their photographs, trying to figure out what feature wouldn't change. McGonagall always said it would be something on their face, he reminded himself, eyes narrowing. -Does that person have Mulciber's eyes? Or his ears, maybe? The crowd shifted and Harry stifled a gasp of horror. He reached out and grabbed the boy standing in front of him, dragging him to an alley, in spite of his rather vocal protests.

'What d'ye think ye're doin'?' he yelled.

Harry furiously tightened his grip around Seamus' arm, unable to speak. He Apparated them both to the alley behind the building where he was staying in Belfast, towing Seamus through the door and into the flat, throwing him against the wall. 'What am I thinking? What are you thinking?' he snarled, shoving Seamus roughly into a chair. 'My God, Seamus, didn't you get enough of that kind of shite last year?'