Harry Potter and the Last Goodnight

Harry and Ron practiced their Quidditch moves so intensely that even Oliver Wood would have been proud. It was only at lunchtime when Mrs. Weasley stopped them that they had time to catch their breath.

Everyone returned home shortly after lunch. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Ginny joined Harry and Ron in the air. When the twins came back from Diagon Alley, they got out their clubs, and it wasn't before long that there was a Quidditch match in the Weasley's backyard. Even Remus and Mr. Weasley found some old Shooting Star brooms and took to the skies. Mrs. Weasley was refereeing, but Hermione sat in a grassy patch near the makeshift hoops, reading a copy of The Daily Prophet.

"C'mon, Hermione!" Ron cried from his position as keeper, not too above her head. "I'm sure dad would give you a few minutes on his broom. Maybe we could even dig out another one from somewhere in the attic."

"No thank you," she replied. "I think I'll just stay on the ground."

"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport, Hermione," Ron scolded. "I've always wanted to see how good you'd be at Quidditch."

"No thank you," Hermione repeated.

"Are you scared?" Ron taunted. "Afraid that I might be better at something than you are?"

"No," Hermione said. "In fact, I know that there are things you're better at than I am."

"Like what?" Ron questioned, genuinely curious, swooping down to Hermione's level.

"Like making a fool of yourself," she said, pointing at Charlie as he hit the Quaffle through one of the hoops Ron was supposed to be guarding. He cursed, glaring at Hermione.

"Hey, Ron!" Bill called from the other side of the field. "Stop flirting and start playing your position!"

Red-faced and at a loss for words, Ron retreated to the safety of guarding the hoops. Harry, however, was way up in the air, keeping his eyes peeled for the golden snitch. Ginny was not far behind him. He wondered if she was planning on trying out for the Quidditch team again. She mentioned something last year about one of the vacant chaser spots.

Harry couldn't wait to be back on the Gryffindor house team. This ruddy Quidditch game was not like one at Hogwarts, but he didn't care. It had been so long since he'd been on a broom that he couldn't think of a better way to spend his birthday.

There was only one injury: George hit Bill square in the face with a Bludger when he was watching Fleur score a goal to pay him back for teasing Ron. After a few laughs from the game below, Harry finally spotted the Snitch glinting in the sunlight above the shed.

In a flash, Harry took off and gained some speed as he chased after the snitch. He was vaguely aware of Ginny behind him, working her way up to his level. He thought, briefly, of letting her grab the snitch and take the win. But it was his birthday, and he knew that if he let her win, Ginny would be insulted.

Harry was closing in on the snitch. Five yards. Three yards. Four feet. And in a matter of seconds, his fingers had closed around the wiggling snitch, and the game was over.

Ron, Fred, Bill, and Remus cheered as Harry soared to the ground. They all patted him on the back as Mr. Weasley broke out into a round of For He's a Jolly Good Fellow. Charlie tousled his hair a little and laughed. "Lucky catch, hey Potter?"

Ginny came over to Harry and shook his hand. "I thought it was only right to let you catch it," she said, grinning. "It being your birthday and all."

"Sure you did." Harry smiled. Things didn't feel too awkward now. In fact, he felt a lot better than he did the day before. Maybe it was because it was his birthday, or because he'd wasted an entire afternoon playing nothing but Quidditch, or perhaps because Remus was around. Either way, Harry didn't care. Maybe being an honorary Weasley wouldn't be as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Maybe he did fit in a family somewhere.

After another dinner spent dining outside, Mrs. Weasley brought out a homemade cake with Why Can't'ya Blow 'Em Out? Candles, an experimental product from the twins. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn't them out, and was actually quite winded from his endeavor. Ultimately, the candles lit the frosting on fire and Mr. Weasley managed to save the cake, although it did taste a bit like charcoal. However, Harry enjoyed it nevertheless.

To make up for the cake, Fred and George got out some of their Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. The enchanted fireworks paraded through the yard. There was a set of long-tailed rockets that emitted brilliant pink sparks. Everyone sat around "oohing" and "ahhing" with delight. Then somebody brought out the Wizard's Wireless, a device like a Muggle radio, and turned it on so that the music filled the backyard.

Mrs. Weasley, looking a bit flushed from after dinner drinks, smiled brightly at Harry. "So Harry, are you sweet sixteen and never been kissed?"

"What?"

Ron laughed. "No, he's been kissed."

If looks could kill, Harry would have been spending the rest of his natural life in Azkaban from the look he shot Ron.

"Ooh," Fleur cooed. "Who 'ave you keessed, 'Arry?"

The last thing Harry wanted on his sixteenth birthday was to be discussing his love life with her. He shrugged. "Well, you kissed me. After the second task."

"Oh yeah," Ron said. "That's right. Hey Bill, I got a kiss from Fleur long before you did."

Bill cast a suspicious look at Fleur, but Harry could see his eyes were still smiling. "What's this all about?"

"Zat was not a real keess," Fleur replied immediately. "It z'was only on ze cheek."

"I suppose," Harry agreed. Then Hermione would have kissed both him and Ron loads of times.

"So who was it, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley questioned. "You've got to tell us."

"Well, I... I sort of had a thing with Cho Chang last year..." his voice trailed off. Harry tried desperately not to look at Ginny. There was no way he'd mention that he'd kissed her only the day before. He was very glad that he hadn't felt the need to confess to Ron last night that Ginny had kissed him.

"Cho?" Fred said suddenly. "You kissed her?"

Harry felt George pat him on the back. "Impressive. She's absolutely gorgeous, and what a great pair of... Ouch!" Mr. Weasley had reached over and slapped him on the back of the head. "I was going to say eyes! I swear!"

Everybody at the table laughed. "Anybody else, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Mr. Weasley stood up as the song on the wireless changed. "Molly, I believe this is our song."

"What are you talking about Arthur? You know perfectly well..." but she stopped objecting as Mr. Weasley took her by both hands and led her to an open space near the garden. The two of them began dancing.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had a feeling that if Mr. Weasley knew that Ginny had ambushed him last night and kissed him, there would be nothing he could say that would stop him from beating the life out of Harry.

Bill and Fleur joined Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Harry suddenly felt the same anxiety he'd had at the Yule Ball during his fourth year at Hogwarts. Surely, not everyone was going to pair up. There weren't enough girls. And he couldn't help but notice that he, besides Lupin, was the only guy at the Burrow who wasn't related to Ginny.

He glanced in Ginny's direction, but she was talking animatedly to Fred and George while pointing at the fireworks. There was a sparkling rocket still dancing around in the sunset.

Harry caught Ron looking in Hermione's direction. When she turned to him, he looked away, a hint of red in his cheeks. Ron wasn't the most charming when it came to things of a romantic nature. Hermione looked away, and then Ron turned to look back at her. Harry was just about to shout at the two of them to get a room, when Ron said hoarsely. "D'you want to dance, 'Mione?"

Hermione's head turned, and she held out a hand for him to take. "It's about time you asked, you stupid prat," she said affectionately. When Ron pulled her closer to him, Harry thought he could hear her say, "I've only been waiting since the Yule Ball."

Harry felt a pang of jealousy in his gut, along with some apprehension. Seeing Hermione and Ron together stirred up feelings inside of him that he didn't know he had. But it also made him squirm at the thought of being romantic with a girl. Having to dance with her, having to hold her hand. Granted, he didn't have much experience, however he had never been comfortable enough with a girl to really take any romantic gestures in stride.

"Women," Remus said, plopping into Ron's vacant seat next to Harry. "Who needs 'em?"

"Exactly what I say, Remus," Charlie agreed, sitting on Harry's other side. "Can't live with them, better off without them."

Harry grinned. The two of them were reading his mind. He just couldn't believe that all the effort one needed to put into a romantic relationship was really worth the outcome. "So Bill and Fleur are really getting married, huh?"

"Yeah, probably this time next year," Charlie replied, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. "Marriage. The mere thought makes me want to run away. Lifelong bachelorhood sounds like a good thing to me."

Lupin laughed. Harry had never really thought about being married before. Hell, he didn't even know if he'd live to be seventeen, let alone to get married.

"It's a waste of a man's time," Remus growled. "You spend day and night thinking of them, being with them, and in the end, you end up alone and poor." Harry laughed, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Remus was speaking from experience.

"Take it from us, Harry," Charlie said, "you don't need to be in love to be happy."

Harry watched the couples dance. Bill was twirling Fleur with flair. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked like they were attempting to Tango. Hermione seemed to be leading a flat-footed Ron to the music. "But Ron's not in love."

"No, he's not in love," Charlie answered. "But look at him. He's totally whipped."

* * *

The end of the summer holiday moved quickly for Harry since he'd been staying at the Burrow. Remus visited him off and on, though Harry suspected it had as much to do with giving messages about the Order of the Phoenix to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as it had to do with visiting him. He did enjoy the company, however.

There was not much news about Voldemort. Harry got the impression that he was lying low again, waiting to spring his death eaters out of Azkaban now that the dementors had deserted the wizarding prison. There was one night when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, as well as Bill and Charlie, had gone out and Fleur was left at home to "baby-zit," as she put it. Harry was almost positive that there was a meeting of the Order. He wondered where the meeting was, or maybe even if he would be able to spy in on it with Remus's birthday gift. However, he didn't bother trying because he knew that Remus wouldn't be so careless as to leave it on during a meeting.

But Sirius would have been, Harry thought with a sad smile.

After receiving their letters of school supplies from Hogwarts, they had all taken a trip to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies, and Harry got to see the outside of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, located at number ninety-three. It was painted a brilliant shade of red that matched the twins' hair. There was a sign on the door that said "Closed: By Order of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

And before Harry had time to catch his breath, the morning when they had to catch the Hogwarts Express rolled around. Mrs. Weasley opened the door to Ron's bedroom and yelled at them to wake up and get some breakfast before they missed the train.

There was a lot of commotion at the window, and Harry rolled over to see Ron reaching for a hooting Pigwidgeon, who could barely contain his excitement as Ron untied a letter from the owl's foot. "Knock it off, Pig," Ron muttered sleepily. "Blimey, my hands don't work this early in the morning."

Harry consulted his watch on the bed table beside him. "Actually, it's not that early. It's already ten o'clock."

"Ten o'clock?!" Ron cried. "I've still got to pack my broom!" He dismissed Pigwidgeon with an owl treat and took off downstairs in his pajamas.

Harry quickly dressed and made his bed. He searched Ron's room for anything that might be his, but most of clutter was Ron's. Harry couldn't imagine having enough possessions that he had to leave some of them behind while he went to Hogwarts.

With a small amount of sentiment, Harry said goodbye to Ron's bedroom and pulled his trunk downstairs. He went to the kitchen windowsill and collected Hedwig. She had enjoyed the free roaming at the Burrow and was a little reluctant to get back in her cage. But Harry assured her that he was only taking her to Hogwarts, where she'd be free to hunt all night again.

Harry took a seat at the kitchen table and grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it, then helped himself to a glass of orange juice. Hermione sat down in the seat next to him. "Good morning," she said brightly. Harry thought that the first day back at Hogwarts was her favorite day of the year - except for the first day of exam week.

"Morning," he replied, eagerly eating his toast.

"All set?" she questioned. Harry nodded. "Where's Ron?"

Harry gestured outside to where Ron was sprinting outside of the shed in the backyard, carrying his broomstick. He was still wearing his pajamas when he rounded back into the house.

"He's running a bit behind schedule," Harry replied, grinning.

Somehow, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley managed to make it out of the house and to King's Cross Station with only five minutes to spare. They had squeezed all of their belongings onto two trolleys. Ron was steering one, Harry the other. They loitered between platforms nine and ten for a moment, until Mrs. Weasley whispered, "All right, Ron, you go first with Hermione." She gave both of them a hug.

As inconspicuously as possible, Ron and Hermione both ran at the pillar that stood between the two platforms and disappeared inside. Mrs. Weasley leaned over and gave Ginny a kiss. "Have a good year, Gin," she whispered. "Be sure to write. I'll see you at Christmas." Then she turned to Harry. "And you too dear. Don't be afraid to send and owl now and then. And be good," she added. She slipped Harry a kiss on his cheek and told them to go ahead.

"Need a hand with the cart?" Ginny asked.

"No, I've got it," he replied. Harry took a deep breath. "Ready?" Ginny nodded. The two of them took off at top speed towards the pillar, when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a woman take a step in his path. He quickly swerved to the side, his shoulder brushing against the hard brick wall and ripping his shirt.

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked.

Harry felt the tear in his shirt. There was only a scrape, nothing major. "I'm fine. Do you think she saw us?"

Ginny shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Mum will take care of it if she did. C'mon, or we won't be able to get a seat."

And without a second thought, Harry and Ginny pushed the trolley to one of the baggage handlers, who slipped the trunks onto the train. Harry and Ginny met up with Hermione and Ron, who were already sitting in a compartment in the back of the train with Neville Longbottom.

"Hello Harry! Hello Ginny!" Neville greeted as he slid over in his seat to make some room for them. "How was your holiday?"

"It was great," Harry replied automatically. "How was yours?"

"Excellent," Neville said, his eyes lighting up. "As a reward for bravery for - well, for last year," he said nervously, "Gran took me all over Europe to see some of the strangest plants that exist. We took a tour of the desert plants of Arabia and we even went over to China to see the Great Wall of Fungi. Which, well, technically isn't a plant, but it was great fun."

"That's nice, Neville," Ginny said. "What else did you..."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Ron interrupted. He took a piece of parchment out of his pocket. Harry recognized it as the letter he'd received this morning. He unfolded it and handed it to Hermione. "I got this from McGonagall. She said that I'm supposed to meet with Snape in his office after the feast tonight."

"Sounds like fun," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it," he replied sarcastically. "I bet he's looking forward to laughing in my face too."

"Ron, you don't know that he's going to say no," Hermione said.

"Oh yes I do," Ron replied. "There's no way Snape is going to bend the rules and let me take his N.E.W.T. class because I didn't get an Outstanding grade."

"You're trying to get into Professor Snape's class?" Neville questioned. "Why?"

Ron sighed. "Because, well, I've been thinking about becoming an Auror, and the only way the Ministry will accept you is if you test well on the N.E.W.T. exam in Potions."

"Oh yeah, I've thought about becoming auror too," Neville said.

Stunned, Ron nearly choked on his own air supply. "Don't tell me you got an Outstanding O.W.L. in Potions, Neville, or I'll throw myself onto these train tracks."

"Oh no, of course not. I barely passed," he replied. "But Gran says that sometimes the Ministry will train people who don't have N.E.W.T. experience in Potions.

"I think that Snape is a terrible teacher for only taking students who have received an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s," Hermione said. "Everybody has their strengths and their weaknesses."

"I don't mind," Neville said. "I wanted to take Herbology anyway. Professor Sprout says that I show some real promise."

Harry wasn't surprised. Herbology had always been Neville's best subject. Ron turned to him, his eyes cast down on the floor. "Er, the letter says something else as well..."

"What else did McGonagall say?" Harry questioned. He didn't like the like the expression on Ron's face, or the way he cheeks were slightly red, or the way he wouldn't look Harry in the eyes.

Suddenly, a head popped into their compartment. It was Seamus Finnigan, a fellow sixth-year. "Are we interrupting anything?"

"No, not at all," Ron replied brightly. Harry frowned. What else did the letter say? And why didn't Ron want to tell him?

"Who's we?" Hermione asked.

"I wanted to introduce you to me little cousin," Seamus said. He entered the compartment, tugging on the arm of a girl who didn't look a day over ten years old. She had dark, curly hair that was cut short. Ringlets fell over her face, covering her eyes. She pushed her hair away to reveal even darker eyes.

"This is Ron Weasley, his sister Ginny, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom." Seamus gestured to each one of them. "And this," he said, pointing at Harry, "this is Harry Potter."

Harry winced, expecting a flood of "oohs" and "awws" from the little girl. Or even worse: a request to see his scar. But on the contrary, she looked confused. "Right. Who are you again?" she asked.

"Who are you?" Ron questioned, taken aback by the lack of the little girl's knowledge. Harry was amazed that there was a person in the wizarding world who didn't know who he was. He was beginning to like Seamus's little cousin.

"Sorry," Seamus apologized. "This is Nora Finnigan. She's on me da's side." Harry remembered that Seamus's dad was a Muggle, and that his mother hadn't told him about until after they were married. "Remember, I told you about him. He's the one who stopped You-Know-Who all those years ago. He's got the scar. Can she see the scar, Harry?"

Harry stifled a groan. "Sure." He lifted the hair off his forehead. Nora took a step closer to him and eyed his scar. Harry counted the seconds until she looked away, until he realized that she wasn't looking at his scar anymore, but his eyes.

No one had done that before.