Chapter Text
Harry thought things would be different after the war. He thought he would finally be able to relax - to rest. That was not to be.
First, it was cleaning up the immediate aftermath of the battle. Gathering the bodies of their fallen in the Great Hall and healing the injured with what little healing magic he had picked up over the last year. Then, as the days passed slowly and painfully, full of grief, it was the funerals.
He cried and grieved with everyone else until he could cry no more. Remus, Tonks, Fred and so many others. They were all gone now. They would never breathe another breath or live to see another day. Remus and Tonks had left behind their two week old son who they would never see grow up. Fred had left behind a broken twin and a grieving family who would always feel like they were incomplete, missing someone. Harry cried until the tears wouldn’t come anymore and he was left feeling numb inside.
After the funerals, Kingsley Shacklebolt was nominated minister of magic and slowly began rebuilding the ministry. The trials were held shortly after. Harry didn’t attend all of them. The idea of sitting there and watching as they spouted out their crimes - the people they had killed and tortured, the suffering they had caused… It made him feel sick.
In the end, he forced himself to sit through the first ones - the most important ones - to ensure they were doing things right. He was not going to let the Ministry have another case like his godfather’s. There would be no more Sirius Blacks, wrongfully incarcerated without a trial or a sham of one.
He only spoke at Draco’s and Narcissa’s. He asked for clemency, explaining how without Narcissa and Draco the war would have been lost. He argued that Draco was still a child when he was forced to take the Dark Mark, that he practically was still a child.
The Malfoys had a large chunk of their wealth confiscated and both Draco and Narcissa were sentenced to a year of House Arrest and five years of probation after.
Lucius Malfoy was sent straight to Azkaban. Harry watched him go with a deep contentedness that justice was finally being properly doled out. Lucius Malfoy deserved everything he got.
The rest of the trials passed Harry by mostly unnoticed. Instead, his attention turned to rebuilding Hogwarts and the new expectations being lobbied at him.
“You’re gonna join the Aurors with me, aren’t you mate?” Ron said, with his usual grin. His eyes were still dark with grief though. He was still mourning the brother he had lost.
“Harry, don’t forget to sign up for your classes. You need to go back to Hogwarts for your eighth year so you can take your NEWTs.” Hermione constantly reminded him. She was already surrounded by books and study schedules she had made. She had not hesitated to jump right back into exam and class preparation. She was trying to keep herself distracted so the pain and memories wouldn’t overtake her.
The comments about his love life were even worse.
“Harry, dear! You and Ginny make such a cute couple. Have you decided when your going to get married?” Mrs Weasley always asked whenever she saw him. She was normally bustling around the kitchen, cooking and trying to hide the bags under her eyes and pretend no one could hear her crying in the pantry.
Harry always nodded to all of it and said he would think about it, that he would get to it eventually.
He never did.
The public was even worse. There was no noticeable build-up. At first, everyone was focused on the recovery efforts and rebuilding, but as soon as things had stabilised and the newspapers started publishing again, it was like his life was open for anyone to comment on.
He rarely left Grimmauld Place anymore, where he had settled after a brief stint at the Burrow had proven too cloying. The reporters were like vultures. They haunted his every more and the newspapers were full of stolen pictures of him and rife with headlines about his life and who he was with and what he would do next. They would swarm as soon as he entered any public space, pushy and unrelenting.
Harry hated all of it.
Ginny showed up on his doorstep two months after the war ended. It was a cool July morning and the sun was already rising, promising a warm day.
They had got back together within a week of the Final Battle. Harry wasn’t sure if he had actually wanted to, or if he had simply bowed to the expectations of everyone else that they would get back together. The last two months spent together with Ginny trying to be in a relationship had felt like stumbling through a bog - forced and uncomfortable.
From the expression on Ginny’s face, she felt similarly.
Harry didn’t greet her. He simply opened the door and stepped out of the way, beckoning her to come in.
She didn’t say anything either. Ginny strode through the front door and made for the sitting room. She sat carefully on one of the worn armchairs.
Harry hovered, still standing, opposite her. Tension rose between them.
Harry coughed awkwardly. “Do you want a drink or something?”
Ginny shook her head. “No.”
Silence reigned between them for a few tense minutes before Ginny sighed, “This isn’t working.”
Harry stared at her confused. “The room?”
Ginny pursed her lips. “No. Us.”
“Oh.” Harry said, thumping down on the sofa opposite her. “It is me?”
“No.” Ginny hesitated. “Or at least not just you. The war changed us Harry. We’re not the same people we were. We grew up. Besides, you can’t tell me your happy. Does this relationship not feel a bit forced to you?”
Harry didn’t know how to reply. She was right. The war had changed everything, including them. They weren’t kids anymore - Harry didn’t feel like he had ever had the chance to be. All the death and the pain… it was too much. Getting back together with Ginny was like falling back into old patterns - something comfortable, a little bit of normality he was still trying desperately to hold onto from before his frantic year on the run. With everyone else seemingly expecting them to get back together as well -especially Mrs Weasley - it had felt like the only choice.
Ginny was right again though. It did feel forced. There was no spark between them - no want. Harry only ever felt awkward and uncomfortable when they tried to do couple things together or people commented on them as a couple.
Harry braced himself and looked directly at Ginny. “I don’t want to lie. Getting back together felt like what everyone expected me to do. It felt like a little bit of normality after a very long time of feeling anything but normal.”
“But it doesn’t actually feel that way.”
Harry smiled sadly. “No, it doesn’t.”
Ginny grimaced. “I guess that’s it then.”
Harry nodded. “Still friends?”
Ginny grinned. “Still friends. I have to go now. But don’t worry I’ll break it to mum.”
Just the thought of having to tell Mrs Weasley that he had broken up with her precious daughter or face the outage of her brothers, made Harry quiver. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, see you.” Ginny smiled briefly before getting up and leaving. The front door clanged behind her as she went.
Harry stayed sitting quietly in thought for a long time after she left.
The letter came a week after Ginny and he broke up. Harry had been holed away in Grimmauld Place since. He didn’t want to dealt with the reporters or concerned friends, so he’d shut off the floo and kept to himself.
A large Eagle Owl flew through the open kitchen window. It had golden eyes, a sharp beak and an imperious bearing. Clutched possessively in its claws, was a letter.
It swooped down and landed directly in front of Harry, who was eating breakfast at the kitchen table. It offered out its leg with the letter whilst its eyes stared pointedly at the bacon on Harry’s plate.
Harry was a little surprised at the letter’s arrival. After the war ended, he had been inundated with fan mail. He had eventually put up a mail redirect ward so all the fan mail and unsolicited letters would be sent to a secure vault. The only messages permitted through were from those he knew and any official documentation from the Ministry and other institutions.
Harry sighed as the owl’s golden gaze remained glued on the bacon. He quickly took the letter, careful not to let his hand near the sharp claws or beak and offered some of the bacon to the owl. The owl hooted happily and took the bacon. As soon as its prize was safely in its claws, to flew up and perched happily atop a kitchen cabinet. Harry took this to mean it would be hanging around as a reply was necessary.
He glanced back down at the letter. His eyebrows raised as he took in the seal. He hadn’t expected a letter from Gringotts after the destruction he, Ron and Hermione had wrought when they broke in and then out with one of Gringott’s security dragons.
He opened and the letter, wary of any curses, and read.
Mr Potter,
You are called to Gringotts Bank to address the inheritances left to you by your parents and Lord Sirius Black, as well as several other matters.
Arrive promptly for your appointment at 10:00 on July 17th 1998.
Gringotts.
The letter was succinct and to the point. The prescribed day was also that day. It was rather short notice. He expected nothing less from the Goblins.
Harry glanced at the clock. It was already 8:37. He looked at the owl still happily chewing on its treat.
“You can tell them I’ll be there.”
The owl hooted as though indicating its understanding. As soon as it finished the bacon, it flew off, probably to give his reply.
Harry got up and started clearing away his dishes. As soon as the kitchen was clean, he went to his bedroom to make sure he was presentable, then grabbed his wand on his way to the floo.
“Gringotts here I come,” he muttered, nervously. Without further ado, he grabbed a pinch of floo dust, tossed it into the fire which turned a luminous green and stepped through.