The First Day

George let himself in the shop and quietly shut the door, as if he'd disturb a slumbering elder brother otherwise. He dropped his bag behind the counter and stood for a moment, inhaling the scents of the shop. Scents he hadn't realized he missed while he was in Wales. Not until he let them bloom in the back of his throat like they were a fine wine. He leaned against the counter and glanced around the shop. It looked as if Ron had taken care of things very well while George had been hiding. 'And here I thought he worked here because he didn't know what else to do with himself,' George murmured. 'Maybe Charlie's right about Ronnikins after all.'

He reached under the counter for the thick ledger book and flipped the pages back until he found the sales for the week. Nodding in approval, the corner of George's mouth twitched. 'Might have to give him a raise, too.' He flicked his wand at a feather duster and pushed through the curtains to the back. A pile of neatly wrapped parcels bearing the magenta triple W logo sat at one end of the table, ready to be levitated to the post office for delivery. 'Really have to give him a raise...'

George pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the parcels. They rose gracefully in the air and floated in front of him. He directed them out of the door and down the street and dropped them at the post office, sliding into the routine of the shop. On his way back to the shop, he spared a glance for a building to his left. The blank windows stared back at him as his eyes traced up to one he knew to be the one in Katie's sitting room. How long he stood there, George couldn't say, but the flicker of light at a neighboring window made him shake himself and return to the shop.

Ron was standing at the counter, the Gringotts deposit in one hand. He slowly set the money bag on the counter and darted into the back room, returning with a folded piece of parchment that he thrust unceremoniously at George. 'What's that?'

'Just take it,' Ron muttered.

'Not until you tell me what it is.'

'It's not going to explode in your face,' Ron sighed, waggling the parchment a bit.

Frowning, George took the parchment and thumbed it open. His eyes traveled swiftly over Ron's untidy penmanship, face paling under his freckles. He looked up at Ron in disbelief. 'I don't understand...'

'I'm giving you two weeks' notice. I think I can still take a position as an Auror.'

George frowned. 'I didn't think you wanted to be an Auror anymore.'

'I'm resigning,' Ron said heavily, ignoring George's statement.

'B-b-b-but why?'

Ron leaned against the counter, his back to George. 'Because I don't think you really want me here. Regardless of what you and Fred had intended.'

'Why would you say that?'

Ron laughed bitterly. 'Oh, Merlin's sagging bollocks, George. I heard you talking to Katie before Christmas. You're not sure it's going to work out with me, and you're not really sure you want it to. You don't let me help you work on new products, even though you're perfectly fine with me doing it on my own. Even decisions about how the shop is run. You'll let me do something, but you're damned if you'll make any sort of decision with me. I could leave, and it wouldn't make a bit of difference. You could do this with anyone.'

George's mouth dropped open in shock. 'That's not true...' he gasped.

'It is. Then twice you just leave me with all this in my hands, terrified I'm going to cock it up. No explanation, no estimated time you're coming back from wherever it is you've gone. You just left,' Ron hissed, his ears nearly magenta. He roughly pushed himself away from the counter and stalked into the back room. A box built into the wall already held owl orders that had been delivered overnight. He magicked the box open, and Summoned the envelopes.

'I needed to clear my head,' George said defensively.

Ron ripped open an envelope. 'I get that,' he said tightly. 'I did the same thing to Harry,' he muttered.

George snorted. 'Yeah. We know. Triwizard. Got your pants in a knot until you realized he wasn't in there voluntarily.'

'I wasn't talking about that,' Ron grumbled. 'Last year.' He grabbed a handful of Skiving Snackboxes and counted out ten of them. 'I got angry and left.'

George's mouth closed with a snap, taken aback. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were so tight, most people tended to refer to them by one long name: HarryRonandHermione. The idea that one could have left in a snit during one of the most critical, albeit harebrained, schemes those three had managed to cook up between them was surprising.

Ron caught George's expression and hitched a shoulder. 'We had this locket with a bit of V-v-voldemort's soul inside. And until we could find a way to destroy it, we wore it constantly in turns so it didn't get lost,' he said tonelessly. 'Brought back everything you and Fred ever did to me. Magnified every jealous thought I had about Harry or what H-h-hermione might have actually felt. Like it knew what would hurt the most.' Ron's shadowed blue eyes met George's wide dark ones. 'I couldn't take it any more. I don't even remember making a conscious decision to leave, but I tore the locket off and ran out of the tent.' Ron's voice lowered to the point where George had to strain to hear him. 'I ran out into the rain and lost sight of the tent. But I could hear Hermione calling after me. She was crying. And not like when she got upset at school. It was like I -Avada Kedavra-ed her puppy or something. I was too ashamed to turn around go back.'

'What did you do?'

Ron's mouth twisted. 'Went to Bill's to hide. He blistered me with the sharp end of his tongue when I showed up. Made my ears ring. Sounded like Mum,' he said ruefully. 'Then he left me alone. And I stayed away longer than a week.' Ron turned back to the parcel on the table. 'So yeah, George, I get it when you need to collect your thoughts. And I know what it means to just skive off without a word to anyone.' He waved his wand at the parcel and brown paper wrapped around it, sealing itself with Sticking charms. 'I could almost justify doing it the one time. But never again.'

The bell over the door belched loudly, making them both jump at the intrusion.

George took a deep breath. 'We'll talk about this later,' he promised.

The day passed with George and Ron carefully avoiding each other. The grey, slushy day kept many people at home and George sent David and Sasha home, much to their relief. The atmosphere in the shop had been decidedly tense since they arrived that morning for their shift. George jabbed his wand at the door, locking it, then flicked his wand toward the sign, flipping it over to the side that read "Closed". He then dimmed most of the lights and glared at Ron. 'Where were we?'

Ron sighed and shucked off his robes. 'I resigned.'

'I don't accept it,' George retorted.

'That's just too damn bad,' Ron muttered.

George raked his hands through his hair, leaving his mangled ear exposed. 'What will it take to make you reconsider?'

'It doesn't matter, because I'm done. Two weeks from today.'

George's lips pressed into a thin line and he reached out and grabbed Ron's arm, and all but dragged him into the back room. Without releasing his brother, George snatched up his stained notebook and threw it on the table. 'There's everything I've tried to do since we reopened,' he said angrily. 'What do you think I should have done differently?' He glared at Ron in fierce challenge.

'Going to make me earn my last Galleons, eh?' Ron's free hand snaked out and opened the notebook, leafing through it. His eyes scanned over the scrawled notes, trying to chip at something stuck to the page with a thumbnail. 'You're rubbish as a cook, George,' he stated. 'What did you get on your Potions O.W.L., anyway?'

'I'd rather not say...'

'It shows,' Ron snorted. 'Bloody hell. If I can earn an Exceeds Expectations, you ought to have done that...' He glanced down at George's hand, still wrapped around his elbow. 'If you'll let go of me, I can show you how to do these new sweets correctly so they don't explode in your face.'

George let go of Ron's arm and Summoned a cauldron to the table. 'All right.'

'Write it down, just like I tell you,' Ron told him. 'And then follow the recipe for Merlin's sake. May not be as good as Hermione at brewing potions, but I can make sure I'm adding the ingredients in the right order.'

'I'll give you a raise,' George pleaded. 'One hundred fifty a week...'

Ron hesitated. It was twice what George paid him now. 'No...'

'Ron, you can't go.' George took a deep breath. 'Give me until the end of the school term,' he said quietly. 'We'll put things down in writing and we can try doing things the way we - Fred and I - used to.'

'And if it doesn't work out?' Ron asked guardedly.

'Then you can resign.'

Ron nodded. 'All right.'

*****

Ginny hoisted herself into one of the deep windowsills in the common room of Gryffindor tower, settling on a cushion she'd purloined from a pile in the corner. As she pulled her Defense textbook from her bag, Dean casually loped across the room and perched in the armchair next to the window. 'You have a mo?' he asked softly.

Ginny glanced down at her book and shoved it back into her bag. 'Sod it,' she muttered. 'I've been studying nonstop since we got back.'

'I didn't think you were that fussed about your N.E.W.T.s,' Dean observed.

Ginny's shoulder hitched in a half-shrug. 'Well, I'd really hate to be like Willow Riordan.'

Dean's brow furrowed. 'Who?'

'Willow Riordan. She was a Hufflepuff about the same time my parents were here. Much sought-after Seeker by four professional teams. Montrose and Tutshill had a very public battle about who would sign her. She eventually signed with Tutshill, who gave her this enormous bonus, put out this mad publicity campaign featuring her, she was profiled in Quidditch Quarterly, and she was hired to endorse everything from brooms to cosmetics.'

'So how come I've never heard of her?' Dean asked skeptically.

Ginny grinned with an ironic twist to her mouth. 'She played one season. Professional-grade Snitches are much faster than the ones we use here. The game's faster and far more physical. And you have to make decisions on the fly.' She chuckled. 'No pun intended...'

'Of course not,' Dean snorted.

'Well, she didn't adjust to the game very well. Never caught a single Snitch. Tutshill released her at the end of the season, and no other team wanted her. Not even Chudley.'

'Blimey.'

'Yeah. Well, what makes the whole story even more tragic, is that she left school after her sixth year, and never took a single N.E.W.T. She's now in one of those hopelessly inane traveling shows that feature retired Quidditch players doing flying tricks.'

'So what do you think you'll do?' Dean's feet lightly drummed against the side of the armchair.

'Dunno.' Ginny chewed her quill thoughtfully. 'I thought about going into Gringotts,' she began.

'Curse-breaker like your brother, then?'

Ginny shook her head, a slightly diabolical look coming into her eyes. 'No. Set curses,' she said with a hint of glee.

Dean's brow slowly rose. 'You always were one for a well-placed hex,' he said.

'Yeah...' Ginny said dreamily. She looked down at the top of Dean's head. 'So I meant to ask you... How did it go at home over the holiday?'

'It's about bloody time!' Dean huffed in mock-outrage. 'We've only just gotten back at school you know.'

'I'm sorry,' Ginny sighed. 'There was a lot going on when we came back, then there was the incident with Harry, and practice...'

'Right. Because we're not on the team together and don't have any classes together at all,' Dean drawled.

'I really am sorry,' Ginny said contritely.

'You should be.' Dean smirked at her, then laughed softly. 'It's all right. I know you've had a lot going on.' He settled into the chair a bit more. 'So... My holiday, eh?'

'Yeah.'

'It was all right.'

'Just all right?' Ginny asked skeptically.

'It was good,' he confessed. 'Dad seemed a bit nervous at first, but I think he was more afraid I'd start calling him Laurence instead of Dad. Katherine and Charlotte were thrilled to see me. And Mum...' Dean slowly shook his head. 'She was relieved, happy... She cried all over me, until Dad made her let me go. And after Katherine and Charlotte went to bed, the three of us had a bit of a chat about my, erm...' Dean's face scrunched in a grimace of distaste. 'Father.' One of Dean's lanky arms reached out to snag an apple from a bowl sitting on the table next to them. He bit into it, wiping the juice that ran down his chin on his sleeve. Swallowing he added, 'Dad told me if I wanted to go find him, he was all right with it and would help me if I asked.'

'That's generous,' Ginny murmured.

Dean took another bite of the apple and shrugged. 'I suppose. Although, if I were Dad and had the chance to meet the effing berk, I'd probably try and pretend his head was a Bludger...'

'I take it you don't want to try and find him.'

'Nah. Told Mum and Dad I'd rather break my wand than try and find some plonker who didn't want either Mum or me. Better off without him, anyway.'

'What did your Mum have to say about it...?'

'Not much. Seemed a bit upset, though.'

From her perch above Dean, Ginny could see a slight hardening of his jaw. Her experience with Harry's moods made her change the subject to something more neutral. 'What plant did you decide to cultivate for Herbology?' she asked.

Dean's shoulders shifted slightly as he breathed a sigh of relief. 'Got it narrowed down to three,' he told her, shifting smoothly into the new conversation.

*****

'Are you sure you're all right to go to Hogsmeade, Harry?' Molly asked, sliding sausages onto Harry's empty plate.

'Don't worry, Mum,' Ron said, biting into a sausage. 'If he starts to get peaky, Madam Pomfrey's right there. And she's taken care of Harry loads of times.'

Harry turned to Ron. 'You're not helping.'

'And how do you propose to get to Hogsmeade, then?' Molly continued. 'You can't Floo. And it's an awfully long way to Side-Along someone.'

'Knight Bus,' Ron replied.

'Have you lost your mind?' Molly shrieked.

Ron thoughtfully shook his head a little from side to side. 'No... No, I don't believe I have.' He pulled on an ear and tilted his head to one side, as if he expected something to ooze from his ear. 'No. Still there.'

'You've been around George too much,' Molly sniffed.

'I'm only banned from Flooing or Apparating myself,' Harry said tiredly. 'Not other forms of travel. I'm not chuffed about taking the Knight Bus myself, to be honest, but I promised Ginny I'd come see her.'

Molly took her place at the table and began to eat her breakfast. 'Don't forget to take those parcels to the girls,' she reminded Ron, indicating the two wrapped parcels in the scullery, filled with biscuits and other goodies.

'We won't.' Harry said, picking up a glass of juice. He noticed Molly's scrutiny of his hand. 'I'm fine,' he told her, for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.

'Sorry,' Molly murmured, glancing at Harry over the rim of her teacup. 'Habit.'

'Understood.'

Ron picked up his empty plate and set it in the sink. 'Ready?' he asked Harry. Harry nodded and hastily drank the last of his juice as he walked to the sink and set his plate on top of Ron's. They each picked up a parcel and walked out through the front door. Ron held out his wand and in seconds the lurid purple triple-decker bus shot down the lane.

'Welcome t' th' Knight Bus. Transport f'r any witch or wizard t' anywhe'e in Bri'ain.'

Harry's face split into a grin. 'Stan!' he exclaimed.

Stan Shunpike looked down at his passengers. ''Arry Po'er!' he bellowed. 'Eh, Ern, look! It's 'Arry!' He gestured for Ron and Harry to board the bus. ''Ave a seat righ' there,' he told them, pointing to two armchairs. 'Whe'e ye goin', then?'

'Hogsmeade,' Ron said, pulling eleven Sickles from his pocket and handing them to Stan.

'Tha's jus' brill, innit?' Stan said, turning to Harry.

Harry counted out eleven Sickles into Stan's hand. 'I'm really glad to see you're all right.'

Stan stowed their fares into a pouch and took his seat behind the driver. 'Eh, was a bi' odd, then, wasn' it? Sor'uv woke up one day in St. Mungo's and wonnered whe'e th' las' year 'ad gone.' He shrugged. 'Someone tol' me I'd bin unner an Imperius. Got me job back, though.' He leaned forward. 'Oi, Ern, can ye pu' 'Ogsmede on top o' the list, then?'

'After we drop off Madam Marsh...' Ernie Prang grunted over a splattering sound from above. The bus rocketed down the lane and lurched several times, making Ron and Harry tightly grip the arms to their chairs. It came to a stop and Harry slid out of his chair.

'Not sure this is any better than Apparition,' he said ruefully.

'We'e in Abergavenney, Madam Marsh,' Stan called. The middle-aged witch stumbled from the level above, her seemingly ever-present handkerchief pressed to her mouth and left the bus with a small moan. ''Ogsmeade next.'

'Great,' Ron muttered. 'Can't wait.' He shook his head and shut his eyes tightly. 'Can't believe I'm saying this, but Mum was right...' He let go of his chair to press his fingers to his eyes and tumbled to the floor when the bus careened to a stop. He picked himself up and gingerly retrieved Hermione's parcel, squinting at it dubiously. 'Hope she put an enormous Cushioning charm on this...' he sighed. Harry snagged Ginny's parcel and slowly pulled himself to his feet, standing uncertainly for a moment, making Ron worry he'd gone and injured himself again. 'You all right, mate?'

'Yeah. Just making sure I was only dizzy from the ride and not the concussion. Forgotten how... erm... adventurous it can be to ride this...' He followed Ron off the bus with a wave to Stan and watched it lumber away, before disappearing with a loud -crack. He turned and started for the Three Broomsticks. 'Let's get inside before my bollocks freeze off.' At least not until I've had a chance to let someone else do something with them, he grumbled to himself, wishing it was the last Hogsmeade weekend of the term and he could find a nice, secluded clearing somewhere with Ginny. It was a bit too cold to be snogging outdoors for an extended period of time for his taste.

He opened the door of the pub and was met by a whooping blur that shot from a corner booth. Ginny threw her arms around him, kissing him lustily, which Harry enthusiastically returned. Ginny pulled back a little, making a face at the sounds of disgust Ron was making behind Harry.

'Must you?' Ron grumbled.

'Yes,' Harry murmured against Ginny's mouth before he twined his free hand through her hair and kissed her again.

'People are starting to look,' Ron said, nudging Harry in the back.

'Let them,' Ginny chuckled, her arms wound around Harry's waist as she rose up on her toes.

'A ray of sunshine couldn't get through you two,' Hermione tutted.

Ginny broke away from Harry, flushed and giggling. 'You'd have done the same if you'd gotten to the door first,' Ginny said loftily.

'Now that you've stopped making a spectacle of yourselves...' Hermione gestured to the table and squeezed past Harry and Ginny to Ron. 'Hiya...'

Ron smiled and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. 'Hi...' His fingers slid into her hair and cupped the back of her head. 'Missed you,' he whispered before he gently kissed her. They followed Harry and Ginny to the table and slid into the booth.

'You look so much better than you did the last time I saw you,' Ginny was telling Harry.

'Yeah, I don't look like Buckbeak's chew toy,' Harry laughed.

'I see you've gone a different direction with the glasses,' Hermione observed.

Harry felt his cheeks flush. He grabbed the butterbeer bottle sitting in front of him and took a long pull. 'Erm. Yeah.'

'They look really good,' Hermione commented. 'Pick them out yourself?'

Harry coughed and spluttered. 'Erm... No... Mediwitch helped...'

'Is something wrong?' Ginny asked. 'You look like you're going to be sick...'

'Came on the Knight Bus,' Harry demurred. He'd already burned the slip of parchment from the mediwitch at St. Mungo's, and wasn't entirely sure he wanted to tell Ginny about the incident. Ginny's eyes narrowed slightly, but she let it pass.

'How are you doing since the last time you wrote?' Ginny asked.

'Let's see...' Harry's brow furrowed slightly. 'Haven't been dizzy since last week and have only stumbled on a flat surface once this week. Dropping a spanner still bothers me, but not as much as it was. And I can complete the crossword in the Prophet in the same day.' He picked at the label on the bottle. 'Have to be asymptomatic for two weeks before I'm cleared to go back.'

'Could be March before you get back to work,' Ron piped up.

'Yeah. Almost makes me feel, well... not sorry for the Malfoys, but seeing as it's rather my fault their trial keeps getting pushed back. Makes it a bit hard to get past it and move on with your life.'

Hermione looked at Harry. 'Are you really going to testify on their behalf?' she asked neutrally, but Harry wasn't fooled by it. The corners of her mouth turned down slightly. He glanced around the crowded pub and met Hermione's gaze, then nodded. Her eyes dropped to the surface of the table and her shoulders straightened, a clear sign she disapproved.

'Everyone deserves a fair trial, Hermione,' Harry told her. 'And in the end, they still might end up in prison.' He sipped his butterbeer. 'Besides, being a wanker doesn't automatically qualify one for a life sentence in Azkaban.'

An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. Ginny glanced nervously at Ron before clearing her throat loudly. 'So what do you do with yourself during the day?' she asked Harry.

He shot her a grateful look. 'Went to the London Zoo a couple of weeks ago.'

'Sounds like fun,' Ron said.

'Well, it was, and wasn't,' Harry said slowly. He touched the back of Hermione's hand. 'Remember last Christmas? In Godric's Hollow?'

'How can I forget?' she mumbled.

'I didn't realize it was Nagini speaking and not Bathilda.'

'You don't realize when you're hearing Parseltongue?' Ron blurted.

Harry shook his head. 'Sounds like English to me most of the time. Like when I set that boa constrictor free. The only time I've ever really heard myself speak it was our second year in Myrtle's bathroom,' he added, with a significant look at Ron. He continued to stare at Ron, his brows knit. 'And when you and Hermione came out of the Chamber with basilisk fangs and you said something close enough to get the entrance to open,' he said slowly. 'The thing is, when I was at the zoo, I went to the reptile house.'

'Yeah, 'cause that's the first place I'd go,' Ron drawled.

'I started talking to this snake. And nothing. Went round to all the others and it was like none of them understood I word I said.'

Hermione turned to Ron. 'Say it!' she ordered.

'Say what?'

'That word you used to open the Chamber.'

'Don't know if I can, but I'll give it a go...' He took a hefty swallow of his butterbeer and cleared his throat. He hissed and spat roughly for a moment, then wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and looked expectantly at Harry. 'Well?'

Harry shook his head. 'Parseltongue...' He and Ron gazed at Hermione, waiting for her to answer, but it was Ginny who spoke.

'Because he's not a Horcrux any longer,' she said. 'The only reason he could speak it was because of...' She self-consciously rubbed her forehead, cocking an eyebrow at Harry. 'It was like that when I had the diary,' she said tightly. 'Once it had been destroyed, I couldn't speak it anymore.'

They sat in another uncomfortable silence before Harry sighed explosively. 'Can't say I miss that,' he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

One side of Ginny's mouth turned up briefly. 'That makes two of us.'