The First Day

Ginny stood outside the door of Harry's room, gazing at him through the narrow window. She glanced over her shoulder at George. He had stopped halfway down the corridor, and now leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. 'Aren't you coming?' she asked, biting her lip over the plaintive tone of her voice.

George shook his head. 'No. I'm good here.'

Ginny turned her head back to the window. Harry lay motionless in the bed, his face pale against the dark green sheets, half-healed cuts and scrapes scattered over his cheeks. Save for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he reminded her of Fred and she was reasonably sure George felt the same way. She pushed the door open and dropped her schoolbag next to it. 'Ginny... Hermione... How did the two of you get here?' Molly asked in surprise.

'George came to Hogwarts and asked Professor McGonagall if he could bring us here,' Hermione said. Ginny nodded, staring at Harry open-mouthed. She went to the bed and reached for his hand, but it was covered in pale blue paste. Both of his hands were coated in the paste, resting on squares of gauze.

'What happened?' Ginny asked, surprised at how steady her voice sounded, when she was certain everyone could see how badly she was shaking.

'He was in the right place at the wrong time,' a middle-aged wizard Ginny had never seen said.

'Who are you?' she asked.

'Ginny!' Molly hissed, shocked at her daughter's rude tone.

Ginny rubbed her fingers over her eyes. 'Sorry,' she mumbled.

'Peter Wilson. I'm Harry's supervisor,' Peter told her, impressed at Ginny's reactions. He'd been around family members who were twice her age who didn't handle run-of-the-mill curse damage nearly as well as she was coping with injuries from a bomb detonation. 'He was going to a pub to investigate its patrons when a bomb exploded inside it. He was far enough away from the pub that he avoided being seriously wounded,' he explained woodenly. 'We tried to notify him that he needed to leave, but we weren't able to warn him in time.'

Ginny inhaled slowly, her nose wrinkling at the odor of the potions coating Harry's hands and the worst of the cuts on his face. 'I see,' she said levelly. 'What's wrong with him?'

'The worst is a concussion, but he ought to recover from that in a few weeks. He's had a few broken ribs, the cuts on his face and hands, and a few deeper wounds from flying debris,' Peter recited. 'He's been given a rather strong potion for the pain, and that's why he sleeping.'

Ginny nodded silently, her fingers brushing over Harry's arm. She turned and walked to the door. 'Need the loo...' she muttered, quickly slipping out of the room. She strode across the waiting area, her hands clenched into fists, shoving open the door marked, "Ladies' Toilets". Ginny darted into the nearest stall and locked the door, leaning against it. She felt tears bubble to the surface and let them fall, relieved that it wasn't worse, then a wave of irrational anger. It's not dangerous, my arse! she thought, slamming a fist against one of the stall's divider walls.

'Ginny?' Hermione's voice echoed off the tiled walls and floor. 'I've gotten a good look at the state of this floor, and I'm not about to crawl on it, looking under the doors for your feet.'

Ginny unlocked the door and peered through the gap. 'I'm all right,' she said, wiping her hands over her face.

'Your dad just sent a message to Professor McGonagall saying we'd come back on Sunday.'

'Okay.'

'And the Healer just came by and said we had to go for the night. But we'll be back in the morning, and Harry ought to be awake by then.'

Ginny nodded, reaching for the toilet roll and tearing off a strip. She blew her nose noisily and threw the wadded strip into the dustbin. 'Okay.'

Hermione paused with her hand on the door. 'It looks worse than it really is,' she told Ginny. 'I mean, it sounds bad, and concussion can have nasty side effects later, but he's been through a lot worse.'

'Yes, I know,' Ginny said tartly. 'It's not the first time we've gathered around Harry's hospital bed.' She reached around Hermione and pulled the door open. 'And I reckon it won't be the last.'

*****

Ginny propped her Charms textbook in her lap and began the homework Flitwick had assigned to them the day before. As she read the assigned pages, making notes in the margins, Hermione finished making up the camp bed they'd rescued from the attic. 'I don't know why you don't sleep in Bill's room,' Ginny commented. 'The bed's much more comfortable than that camp bed.'

'That's Harry's room,' Hermione said simply, tucking the quilt around the bed. After she plumped the pillow and dropped it on one end, she stood for a moment, looking at the neatly made bed. 'Right, I'm going to go... to the... erm...'

Ginny smiled. 'Just remember that Mum's up at six in the morning.' She carefully wrote a few more notes in the book. 'And rumple that bed before you go upstairs. At least it'll look like you've slept in it.'

Hermione slid her arms into her dressing gown. One of the school elves had shown up at the Burrow earlier with some of their clothes, much to their surprise. 'It's not much of a secret, is it?' she sighed in resignation.

Ginny chewed the end of her quill. 'Harry, George, and I know, but I think Mum and Dad are still in the dark. I can't speak for the boys, but I'm not telling.' She dimmed the lamp next to her bed. 'G'night, Hermione. I'll leave the lamp burning for you.'

'Isn't that going to disturb you?'

Ginny shook her head. 'I don't think I'm going to sleep much tonight.'

Hermione sat on the end of Ginny's bed. 'Gin, is it really going to help him if you stay awake?'

Ginny opened her mouth, then closed it with a snap. Carter's words ricocheted around her brain. She closed her textbook, marking her place with the quill. 'Probably not.'

'Get some sleep. It's going to be a long few days.' Hermione slid off Ginny's bed. 'I'll try not to wake you up when I come back down.'

*****

Hermione wriggled until her back was comfortably against Ron's chest. He laced his fingers through hers and sighed deeply, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of her hand. He shifted restlessly, his feet tangling in the sheet, twisting it around his ankles. Hermione turned over and propped herself on an elbow. 'What?' she asked without preamble.

'Nothing,' he huffed, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

'Ron, I've slept in the same bed with you off an on for a year now. You do not have issues falling asleep. Not unless there's something on your mind.'

'I thought it was going to be better,' Ron said tightly.

Hermione sat up, biting her knuckles to keep from laughing out loud and waking anyone else. 'Why would you think something like that?' she wheezed. 'Just because Voldie's pushing up daisies, did you think everything would be sweetness and sunshine?'

'You didn't?' Ron blurted incredulously.

'Why would you think something like that...?'

Ron scowled at the ceiling. 'Because,' he began with an air of exaggerated patience. 'He was a horrible... Can't even call him a person, really, but whatever he was, he caused a lot of terrible things to happen, and now that he's gone, it shouldn't be like that anymore.'

'Ron, evil isn't the sole provenance of Dark wizards,' Hermione told him. 'Muggle history is full of people just as bad as Voldemort,' she said matter-of-factly. 'We don't even know the full story behind what happened to Harry. Magic may have had nothing to do with it.'

Ron gnawed a ragged thumbnail contemplating what Hermione had said. 'That's why I didn't want to do it,' he mumbled. 'Well, one reason, anyway. I don't know how he can do that every day. Nearly made me mad...'

'Did you honestly think he'd do anything else?'

'Quidditch...'

Hermione snorted. 'With all the attention players get?'

'But he likes playing,' Ron maintained.

'I think it was his escape,' Hermione murmured sleepily. 'The only time he didn't have to be Harry Potter...' She yawned widely, belatedly covering her mouth with a hand. 'If he did it professionally, he might not have that anymore...' She turned her face into her pillow and draped an arm across Ron's chest. The sound of her slow breaths signaled she had fallen asleep. Ron covered her hand with his, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Sleep did not come quite so easily to him. He kept replaying the explosion at Hogwarts that killed Fred. Except now, when he tried to close his eyes, he saw Harry being buried under the wreckage instead.

*****

Harry unglued his eyelids and slowly opened them, regretting it almost immediately. Even the dim light from the lamp next to his bed sent stabbing pains through his head. 'Owwww,' he moaned.

'Ah, Mr. Potter, you're awake.'

Harry lifted his hands, and slowly brought them to his face, intending to rub his eyes.

'Just a moment, Mr. Potter. You won't want to get that potion in your eyes...' Harry felt gentle hands close around his wrists. He frowned, and turned his head slightly. The Healer was standing on his left side, but he couldn't hear him very well.

'Where am I?' Harry asked confusedly.

'St. Mungo's,' the voice replied cheerfully. 'You've had a rather nasty accident.' Harry felt a rush of cool air over his hands as the potion coating them vanished. 'How do you feel this morning?'

Harry ran his tongue over his teeth. It felt like it had been coated in cotton wool. 'Thirsty,' he rasped. A straw nudged his lips and he greedily sucked down several gulps of water, almost whimpering when the straw was removed.

'You can have more later. Now, how are you feeling?'

'Head hurts,' Harry replied truthfully. It still throbbed painfully, echoing his heartbeat. He tried to stretch, but his body ached, reminding him uncomfortably of how much he'd hurt when he woke up after the battle. 'Hurts all over,' he added. 'Can't hear very well out of this ear,' Harry said, gesturing toward the left side of his head.

'We'll give you something for the pain in a bit and your hearing will get better as the eardrum heals. Are you hungry?'

'I don't know...'

'Well, I'll bring you a tray with your potion. You'll probably be hungry once your headache subsides.'

Harry blindly patted with one hand over the surface of a table. 'Where are my glasses?' he asked, feeling slightly panicked without them. He hated not being able to see anything.

'We have a replacement pair for you,' the Healer said briskly. 'Your old ones were beyond even Reparo. And we tried. Even your friend from school, Hermione, tried. And she's quite clever, you know. We were able to replicate the strength of the lenses from what was left.'

Harry felt a something bulky slip into his hand. 'What are these?'

'One of the apprentice Healers calls them BCGs,' the Healer said wryly.

Harry carefully unfolded them and perched them on his nose. They felt monstrously enormous. 'What does BCG mean?'

'Birth Control Glasses. Because they're so ugly, no bird in her right mind would shag you while you're wearing them. Just as well they're only temporary until you can replace your other ones.'

Harry's eyes opened to slits and he peered at the stocky man standing next to his bed, clad in green robes. 'Who are you?'

'David Leighton. I'm assigned to treat the Aurors that come through here.'

'Oh...'

Leighton patted Harry's shoulder. 'I'll be back in just a moment with your breakfast.'

As soon as he left Harry gingerly examined his hands, noting the wide patches of raw, pink skin. He tried to take a deep breath, but his ribs ached abominably. He carefully turned his head when the door opened to admit Leighton again. 'Why am I here?'

Leighton handed Harry a vial with a dark blue potion. 'Drink that first.'

Harry tilted the vial over his mouth, gagging at the bitter taste. He repressed the urge to scrub his tongue on the blanket over his lap and handed the empty vial back to Leighton. 'The last thing I remember,' he began slowly, 'is I was leaving the flat we were staying in...'

'That's normal.' Leighton began to flick his wand at Harry. 'You seem to be coming along nicely,' he commented. 'The concussion's still an issue, but you ought to be able to go home in a couple of days.'

'Concussion?'

'Your supervisor will be here later to explain it all,' Leighton said smoothly. 'How's the headache?'

Harry rubbed his forehead. 'Better,' he told him. It was true - it had regressed to a dull persistent ache, comparable to what he'd lived with the year before. He could live with it.

'Good.' Leighton jabbed his wand at the bed and a tray with porridge, toast, and a bowl of grapes appeared on Harry's lap. 'Go easy on the porridge,' Leighton advised. 'Stronger men than you haven't been able to handle it. When you're done with it, just Vanish it. Your wand's in the drawer of that bedside table.'

Harry picked up the spoon and prodded the surface of the porridge. 'Thanks...'

Leighton chuckled. 'Don't thank me yet,' he chortled as he left the room.

*****

'What the bloody hell are those?' Ron blurted when he walked through the door of Harry's hospital room.

'Ronald!' Hermione hissed, smacking him in the arm.

'What?'

'That's not polite.'

'Why?' Harry asked, grimacing a little. The addition of three additional people to the room ratcheted up the noise level, even though they all attempted to speak in hushed tones. It made his head hurt a little more. 'It's what I said when the Healer gave them to me.'

'Good thing you didn't have something like that in school, mate,' Ron told Harry, sitting on the foot of the bed. 'Nobody'd look at you twice...'

'Ron!' Hermione grabbed his arm and dragged him off the bed.

'Healer said that, too,' Harry said helpfully. His brows drew together as he took in the girls' presence. 'When did you two get here?'

'We came last night,' Hermione replied.

'McGonagall let you leave? For this?' Harry snorted. 'She must have thought I was on my deathbed...'

'Well, George was most insistent,' Hermione told him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. 'I'm glad you're doing better.'

Harry glanced around the room. 'Where is George?'

'At the shop. He'll be along later,' Ron said quickly. 'Got lots of owl orders to fill, now that the school term's started.' He glanced at his watch. 'I ought to get going. I'll be back later, then.'

'I'll come with you,' Hermione said hastily. She followed Ron out of the room, leaving him alone with Ginny, who had hung back by the door.

'You're pretty upset, aren't you?' Harry stated, settling into the pillows stacked behind his back and closing his eyes. It helped with the headache.

'What makes you think I'm upset?' Ginny huffed.

Harry cracked an eye open. 'You're quiet,' he said. 'Too quiet.'

'You knew this assignment was dangerous, didn't you?' Ginny asked evenly. 'Why did you lie to me?' She ground her teeth together, restraining the anger she'd felt at being misled, speaking in conversational tones, when all she wanted to do was yell. It might not solve anything, but it would make her feel better.

'It wasn't supposed to be,' Harry insisted. 'I was just supposed to be observing this group in Belfast, to see if they were being influence by any of the Death Eaters that weren't captured at Hogwarts last spring.' He closed his eye once more. 'I didn't want you to worry...'

Ginny pushed herself off the wall and dropped into the chair in the corner. 'Of course I'm going to worry,' she muttered, pulling her textbooks from her bag. 'I'd worry if you played Quidditch professionally.'

Harry turned his head on the pillows and opened his eyes enough to look at Ginny. 'Could you move to this side?' he asked, indicating the right side of the bed. 'You sound like you're underwater over there.'

Ginny stared at him for a moment, then stood up, dropping her schoolbag and books into the chair and dragged it around the foot to the other side of Harry's bed. 'Even if you worked in the shop, I'd worry,' she told him, once she had settled in the chair again. 'I heard too many explosions from Fred and George's room when I was younger.' She started writing on a scroll of parchment. 'Don't lie to me like that again.'

'Gin, I can't tell you everything I'm doing on a case...' Harry protested.

'I know,' she replied calmly, running a finger down the text of her Transfiguration textbook, pausing when she came upon the correct spell. 'Tell me what you'd tell Ron or Hermione,' she suggested.

'What makes you think I told Ron or Hermione more than I told you?'

'I may not be an Auror, Harry, but out of Mum, Dad, George, Ron, Hermione, and me, Ron was the least surprised or stunned by the news you'd been hurt. Concerned, sure -we all were - but it's almost like he expected something untoward to happen.'

'And how could you tell?

'George,' Ginny replied, as if it explained everything. 'I couldn't get to sleep last night, so I went into the kitchen for some tea and George was already there. He said when Dad came to fetch them from the shop; Ron just didn't seem to act surprised by it. And when the two of you came up to the flat on New Year's Eve, Ron looked a little anxious. Not quite as anxious as before a game, but like when he had a lot of homework due Monday morning and it was Sunday evening. At the time, I just figured he was feeling tetchy about asking George if he could move into the flat. And the two of you were talking on the stairs for an awfully long time. It sort of all fell together when I managed to fall asleep.'

Harry started to laugh, but it made his ribs and head hurt too much. 'Dark wizards better hope you don't join MLE or the Wizengamot,' he said.

'Is that supposed to be a compliment?' Ginny asked tartly.

'It is.' Harry closed his eyes against weak light coming in from the small window.

Ginny noticed Harry's abandoned breakfast with a moue of distaste. 'Mum'll be along around lunchtime,' she told him. 'Bearing gifts of food and clean pajamas. And a change of clothes for when they let you out of here.'

'That's a relief,' Harry breathed. 'That porridge left a lot to be desired.'

Ginny set her quill down and gazed at Harry for a moment. 'Do you remember anything?' she asked tentatively.

'No,' Harry answered truthfully. 'I remember leaving the flat and walking to a pub, but that's it. The next thing I really remember is waking up this morning. They said I woke up, talked to them, insisted I had to get back to Belfast. I'll have to take their word for it.' Harry turned his head on the pillow, opening his eyes a bit, watching Ginny do her homework. 'It won't always be like this,' he said quietly.

The corner of Ginny's mouth tipped up in a wry grin. 'Yes, it will.'

*****

Ron packed another parcel and scrawled the recipient's name on it, in care of Hogwarts. He glanced at Hermione, industriously doing the same, although her penmanship was much more elegant than his. 'Why didn't you stay at the hospital with Ginny?' he asked idly. It wasn't that he minded the company, but it ran contrary to what she'd planned earlier that morning. 'I thought you said the two of you were going to work on your Transfiguration essay together. I didn't think you had any issues with hospitals.'

'I thought I'd give Ginny some time alone,' she replied with a shrug. 'They won't have much, I imagine. And she seemed a bit upset. They needed to chat a little in private.'

'You could have just waited in the waiting area for a bit,' Ron argued.

'Do you want me to leave?' Hermione asked archly, Banishing the parcel to the pile at the end of the table.

'No.'

'I'm going back after lunch anyway.' Hermione eyed Ron for a moment, while she packed another parcel. 'Have you talked to George about the flat yet?'

Ron shook his head, as he wrote out another address on a parcel. 'Not yet. I was actually going to last weekend, because he'd been in a good mood for the past week, but last Friday, he was back to acting like a wanker. Been acting like a scalded Kneazle since then.'

'Is that why you're back here, and not in the front?'

'Yeah...' Ron Banished his parcel to the end of the table. 'I'd like to wait for a good time to ask...'

'As in when it's been a good week here, and nothing's reminded George in particular of Fred, and all the stars are in alignment?' Hermione snorted.

'Something like that.'

Hermione leaned on the table, her elbows resting on the worn surface. 'You do realize that's not going to happen.'

'Right.' Ron glanced down at the stack of order forms and pushed one across the table to Hermione. 'I mean, what's the worst he could do? Hex me for asking?' His lighthearted expression sobered rapidly. 'He's going to hex me for asking!' he nearly wailed.

'He's not going to hex you for asking,' Hermione said patiently, flicking her wand at a shelf on the other side of the room. 'Honestly, Ron, the worst thing he could do is say no.'

'Yeah, but the flat's free, yeah? And it's a bit expensive to let a flat in Diagon Alley. I've looked.'

'George does pay you, doesn't he?' Hermione chuckled.

'Well, yeah...'

'And I'm assuming he pays you more than a mere pittance.'

'I suppose... Seventy-five Galleons a week.'

Hermione made a few rapid calculations in her head. 'Can you wait for me to get out of school?' she asked. 'If we share a flat, it won't be too dear.'

'You mean you don't want to share with Harry and me?' Ron teased.

'I hate to tell you, but if you share a flat with Harry, all those things that you and I do when we're alone, Harry will do with Ginny...' Hermione bit her lip as Ron's face rapidly changed color, going from red to white, then finally settling on a sort of greenish hue. 'In the flat.'

'Yeah, I can wait for you to finish school...'

Hermione leaned across the table and kissed Ron lightly. 'Look on the bright side. It gives you a few more months for the stars to align to talk to George.'

*****

Leighton watched as Harry stood shakily next to the bed. 'Sit down before you fall down,' he said, amused. Aurors always tried to get out of bed too soon. They were even worse patients than Healers, and that was saying something. He consulted his clipboard and made a few notes on Harry's file. 'All right. When your, erm... well, family, I suppose you'd call them, arrives, you're free to go. But I've got a few guidelines for you to follow until I've cleared you.

'First, you're on medical leave for at least two weeks. I want to see you again on Friday. If you have any more memory loss or your eyesight worsens, headaches don't go away, you come back immediately, do you hear me?'

'Yeah,' Harry said tiredly. Just the act of washing and dressing this morning had worn him out. He put one hand on the bed and carefully lowered himself to the edge.

'I've got some potions for you to take for the headaches, if you need them.'

'Okay.'

'No climbing stairs, if you can avoid it. If you can't, be careful. Take them slowly. Take extra caution in the bath for the time being. No Flooing, obviously. No flying about on brooms and no Apparition.'

'How am I supposed to get home?' Harry asked sarcastically.

'Oh, someone can Side-Along you, but no solo Apparition.'

'And how long do I have to be treated like a child?' Harry asked irritably.

'Until you're asymptomatic.'

'And how long is that going to be?'

'However long it takes. But generally within two weeks.' Leighton handed a sheet of parchment to Harry. 'It's all written down here for you.'

'Brilliant.' Harry peered at the closely-written sheet, scowling at the limitations on his activities.

'And don't try to go back to work before you've been cleared to do so,' Leighton added. 'Aurors are notorious for not following their Healers' advice.'

'What am I going to do for two weeks?' Harry wondered.

'Let's see...' Leighton gazed over Harry's shoulder at the sheet. 'Rest, rest, and... More rest.'

Harry snorted. 'Do you know how boring that's going to be?'

Leighton patted Harry on the shoulder. 'From what I've been able to figure out about you, Harry, you could use two weeks to do nothing.'

'Oh, good, you're still here,' Peter said as he walked into the room. 'I was afraid I'd have to chase you down to Devon.' He settled in the chair next to the bed. 'The Malfoy trials have been postponed,' he said, bypassing any small talk. 'Until the end of next month.' He glanced at Leighton. 'I presume that's enough time for Harry to be considered mentally sound?'

'Plenty,' Leighton told him.

'Hang on,' Harry said, feeling aggravated that he was being talked about as if he weren't in the room. 'What do you mean by mentally sound? The Wizengamot doesn't think I'm still barmy, do they?'

Peter sighed and stretched his feet out. 'It's something they came up with after the war ended. Any witnesses in a trial against former Death Eaters have to be evaluated as, well, sane... Just to prevent false testimony.'

'I don't remember being evaluated,' Harry said in confusion. Was I?

'Well, you weren't, really. Not formally like normal Auror trainees, but Kingsley vouched for you. And we don't want to do the trials until there's no question of your fitness as a witness.'

'Right,' Harry muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Arthur's head poked through the door. 'Are you ready to go?'

Harry carefully slid off the bed. 'You've got no idea,' he grumbled.

*****

'You all right?' Ginny whispered under the swirl of conversation around the table, attempting to keep her voice low, so Molly didn't hear her.

'Yeah...' Harry pushed a carrot into the pile on his plate. He hadn't been hungry since he woke up Friday morning.

Ginny glanced skeptically at his still-full plate. 'You've barely touched your lunch,' she said.

'I'm fine, Ginny,' Harry said in exasperation. 'Just not hungry.'

Molly's head came up. 'Are you feeling unwell?' she asked worriedly.

'I'm fine,' Harry sighed. 'Just not hungry,' he repeated.

'Well, why don't you go have a bit of a kip? I'll bring you some soup later,' she suggested.

'I'm not tired,' Harry said mulishly, the shadows under his eyes belying how exhausted he did feel.

Ginny pushed her plate away. 'I'm done,' she said quickly. She looked at Harry. 'Maybe you can check over my Defense notes. I think I'm missing something...'

'Gin, your notes are...' Harry's voice was cut off by Ginny nudging him under the table. 'What?' Ginny glared at him, her eyes flicking back to Molly. 'Oh, right. Yeah. You had the incantation for that one spell wrong...' He pushed his chair back and slowly stood up, annoyed at how shaky he was. He followed Ginny into the sitting room and gingerly sat on the sofa. 'Thanks,' he said softly. 'I love your mum, but...'

'She likes to hover,' Ginny finished. 'So what are you going to do until you can go back to work?'

'I don't know,' Harry admitted. 'I can't read for longer than a few minutes without getting dizzy. Light kind of gives me a headache. And walking in a straight line is totally out of the question.'

'Sleep is good,' Ginny said brightly.

'Yeah...' Harry rested his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. 'Maybe in a few days I can go in with Ron and George, and maybe keep an eye on the front counter.'

'You could.'

Harry pulled the glasses off and glared at them balefully. 'Get new glasses,' he said. 'Two pairs. Then I can have an extra pair in case something happens. These are just...'

'Hideous,' Ginny stated.

Molly hurried into the sitting room, with a blanket and a couple of pillows. 'Ginny, let Harry stretch out a bit so he can rest,' she ordered. Ginny slid off the sofa and moved into the armchair next to the sofa. Molly fussed with a blanket, unfurling it over Harry, tugging it just so over his knees, stuffing an extra pillow behind his back.

'Molly... Please, I'm fine.' Harry winced at the fretful tone of his voice. He didn't mean to whine, but he wanted to be left alone.

'You stay right there. I'll be right back with some soup.'

'But I'm not hungry,' Harry protested weakly. He tilted his head so he could see Ginny. 'It's going to be like this until I'm better, isn't it?'

'I'm afraid so.'

Hermione's head appeared through the kitchen door. 'Ginny, it's time to go.'

'I'll be out in a minute.' Ginny moved to the edge of the sofa. 'Is it okay to kiss you?'

'Kisses are part of the healing process,' Harry said seriously.

'Why didn't you say so?' Ginny leaned into him and kissed him lightly. She was about to pull away, when Harry's hands twined in her hair and he deepened the kiss, breaking off only when Molly cleared her throat noisily from the doorway.

'I feel much better,' Harry said.