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SIYE Time:14:51 on 28th March 2024
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Rebuilding Life
By Kezzabear

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: General, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 1776
Summary: Harry has defeated Voldemort but is going back to his life going to be easy? What will he go back to, the life he once had is meaningless now. It's time to build a new one and to create a new post-Voldemort world. Ginny is there waiting for him, what do they need to do to rebuild their lives?
Hitcount: Story Total: 579780; Chapter Total: 21335
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Thanks for hanging in there. I know some people are/were a bit perturbed by the last chapter I hope over the next two chapters, this one and Chapter 8, you understand why I took Harry on this journey. It's a way for him to discover and accept something really important. I was going to leave this one a while but thought it's probably better sooner! Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.




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The following day Harry wished he had spent the night in the Hospital Wing. He knew how to get past Madam Pomfrey after a night in her clutches. Not so Molly Weasley’s. Harry wasn’t sure exactly how he got to his bed the night before. He suspected he’d fallen asleep while he was crying (again!) in her arms and presumed someone either carried or levitated him up to his four poster in Gryffindor Tower. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, if he didn’t speak of it perhaps the embarrassment would go away. When Harry had made to get out of bed in the morning he had been briskly bustled back to it by Mrs Weasley. Declaring him completely overwrought, she insisted he spend the next day in bed. Ron, breakfast and a chess board had appeared only moments later.

It had taken Ron a considerable amount of time and persuasion to get Harry to respond to him. Ron seemed to be expecting Harry to avoid conversation so had carried on one by himself, dishing out the breakfast and shoving one plate under Harry’s nose until he took it before tucking into his own bacon.

“George and Ginny have to stay in bed too,” said Ron cheerfully as he set up the chess board. “Mum made Charlie stay with George and Hermione stay with Ginny. So they don’t escape I reckon. Neither of them are sick although it was a pretty nasty Bat Bogey Ginny sent George’s way, let me tell you.

“She went mental when George hit you with that blasting hex. I don’t think it was a standard blasting hex either. Wouldn’t it be funny if George learned that form you in the first place, you know, in the D.A? That all seems so long ago now doesn’t it?” Ron stared out of the window idly as Harry pushed his plate away, having finished only half of the food on it. He turned away from Ron and pulled the bedcovers up over his shoulders. Ron seemed to rouse himself at the noise this made.

“Ginny was completely hysterical, mate,” Ron said quietly. “It took the combined efforts of Bill and Charlie to keep her away from you and George so that Madam Pomfrey could look you over. They had to give her a calming draught.” Harry gave Ron no response but Ron kept talking until noon.

After exhausting the topic of the previous nights events Ron turned to a running commentary of the memorial preparations he saw from the window, a rundown of the sports pages from the Daily Prophet and a recount of the berating he’d received from Moaning Myrtle for leaving a great gaping hole in her bathroom. Harry pretended to ignore Ron, curled up in the bed; head turned away from his best mate while Ron swung on the chair, charmed his bed hangings to shout ‘Slytherins live in the dark’ and tried to play himself at chess. It was only then that Ron’s patience showed any sign of wearing thin.

“You know, it’s a shame Mum confined Ginny to bed,” said Ron, “because she’s good at getting you talking when you are sulking. You keep this up much longer and I’ll die of boredom after surviving the bloody war!”

“Not so sure even she’d want to talk to me after what I said to George last night,” Harry said in a low voice, staring unseeingly out of the window he could just see from his bed. “You don’t have to stay here Ron, I won’t get out of bed, you can go and do whatever it is you’d rather be doing than hanging out with me.”

“Are you completely mental?” exclaimed Ron. “Why do you think she hexed George? Besides I think you and George are about even with what you both said to each other. He’s the one in the doghouse though because he’s the one who raised his wand. Mum and Dad are furious.” Harry curled further around himself and merely shook his head. There was no way any of what he had said to George was in any way excusable.

“Mate, there’s no way George really meant it,” Ron said to the back of Harry’s head. “‘Sides, George is completely torn up about last night. Was trying to get out of bed and come see you and that’s when mum lost it at him. She caught George three times before breakfast. Said you were too fragile to let George loose on you again and that George was obviously in need of a Good Lie Down. That’s when she and Dad went in and had a little chat with him about hexing the innocent and unarmed, then they sent Charlie in.

“Hermione was telling me about this Muggle book she read after Si- well after fifth year. She reckons you and George were just dishing out a healthy dose of anger and bargaining. I forget what she said you’d probably do next. She’s got a bloody list! Part of grief she reckons. See Hermione says the books say you are perfectly normal!”

Harry didn’t respond. He didn’t want to remember Sirius, he didn’t want to remember what he’d said to George. He’d been right, why should Harry survive when others didn’t live? If Harry had given himself up sooner maybe none of them would have died. If he’d found the Horcruxes sooner, if he’d not spent so long wondering about the Hallows. He hadn’t been quick enough and now families were going to pay with the lives of their loved ones. They’d been fighting for their freedom, so their children could grow up in a better world and he could have ended it sooner, so no one else had to die. He’d been ready to die, he’d been willing to die he should have died instead of Fred. Fred wasn’t ready to die, he wasn’t willing to die. Burying his face in the pillow Harry let the tears fall again.

***************

The low rumble of voices filled the room but Harry was unable to discern any individual voices at first. He must have cried himself to sleep (again!) and now some git was thoughtlessly invading his dorm room and disturbing him. As the fog of sleep lifted he was able to distinguish the conversation.

“-convinced Mum and Dad to take guest rooms and Dad took Mum to have a lie down before dinner. So they are out of the way.”

“Is Mum satisfied that we can take care of those three, she isn’t going to check up on us is she?”

“It was touch and go for a while, I think she believed Ron when he said Harry wasn’t about to leave his bed.”

“I think we all believe that one!”

“Shhhhh, you’ll wake him up!”

“I don’t think she trusts Ginny to stay in bed at all. She has absolute faith in Hermione though. I think she’s counting on George to be in too much fear to cause any more trouble.”

“We’ll be able to convince them to come down though won’t we?”

“Ginny, absolutely, the other two might prove a bit stubborn.”

“Well, let’s leave this one to Ron, we’ll work on George.”

Bill and Charlie, thought Harry dully. Ron must have gotten bored enough to finally leave. He shifted restlessly and heard the other two go completely silent. Only minutes passed before Ron returned. Harry heard Bill and Charlie leave the room and Ron sit heavily in a chair next to his bed.

“We’re having a little meeting shortly,” he began without preamble. “It’d be good if you could join us. It’s hard to have a family meeting without all the family there. We’ll be downstairs in the Common Room. It’s no good pretending you’re asleep. I know when you’re sleeping and I know when you’re awake. Don’t take too long, I don’t know how long I can keep Ginny from storming up here and yelling.”

Who does he think he is, thought Harry irritably as Ron left, Santa Claus? Harry rolled over and stretched, thinking over what Ron had said. They were having a family meeting, obviously without their parents, so that made it a sibling meeting really and his presence was expected. It made his heart feel light to feel that acceptance but he was unaccountably wary and felt what could only be described as a mixture of fear and apprehension.

Could he go out there and simply join in, with everything that had gone on last night? Just because Mr and Mrs Weasley were apparently of the opinion that George had been terribly in the wrong was this meeting just a chance for the others to set Harry straight on his unacceptable treatment of George?

Well he had to go to the loo anyway so he’d do that first and then see how he felt about venturing further afield. When he returned Harry noticed a plate of sandwiches and a goblet of pumpkin juice that had been left beside his bed and checking his watch noticed that it was mid afternoon and he had missed lunch. Suddenly he was hungry and wolfed down the sandwiches in very few bites, washing them down with the juice.

After that he got dressed. He sat on the edge of his bed getting out his wand and twirling it. It was awfully quiet. And it was rather boring and lonely to be sitting up here alone. But he was trying to be alone, wasn’t he? Absolutely. He needed to be alone. No need to complicate and confuse the lives of other people with his messed up life.

He’d just sit here then.

And be alone.

But first he’d just go down and listen to the others. Sit on the stairs just to hear their voices and know he wasn’t alone in the world. Just listening would be enough, no need to inflict his company on them at all.

Harry got up and crept silently down the stairs, his need for company gnawing at him insatiably. Silently he padded down the stairs until he could hear the voices in the Common Room.

“Ginny, don’t go up there. I am telling you he’ll come down when he’s ready. Let him come down on his own terms, not because you’ve dragged him somewhere he’s not ready to face!” Hermione’s voice drifted up the staircase.

“Well, he wouldn’t have any problems facing anything if certain individuals could keep their mouths and their wands to themselves!” was Ginny’s reply.

“You know I’m sorry about that-” George was cut off by Ginny’s scathing retort,

“It’s not me you need to apologise to!”

“Well it isn’t easy to go and talk to a bloke nobody will let me near!”

“Well you show me you can be trusted to behave like a civilised human being and I might let you!”

“Let him? Ginny you’re not exactly in charge around here!” Ron soundedrather bored and Harry got the distinct impression that Ginny and George had been having this argument for some time.

“Oh, and I suppose you are in charge, are you Ron?”

“Maybe I am, yeah!”

“If you three could put your egos and wands away and we could get back to the matter at hand ... I don’t want to explain to McGonagall how we managed to destroy the Gryffindor Common Room in one afternoon or explain to Mum how you two contributed when I was supposed to ensure you stayed in bed!” Bill sounded incredibly exasperated.

“There ees the leetle matter of what ees in these boxes you ‘ave brought ‘ere and what you want us to do wiz zem,” Fleur sounded impatient and Harry thought he could almost hear Hermione mirroring her impatience although she had not said anything.

“Fireworks,” said Percy, the word rolling off his tongue most unnaturally, in Harry’s opinion.

“We were up to the matter of repairing Professor Dumbledore’s tomb before the memorial service though. Ron, Hermione, can you just tell me why I have to keep stalling on resealing it?”

“See the thing is, Bill, well, oh Harry should really be here for this,” Hermione sounded pained but Harry was unable to propel himself forward and down the stairs into the Common Room to relieve her suffering.

“Look, he’s not here right now, so the fact is he needs to put Dumbledore’s wand back in it before it’s sealed,” Ron broke in impatiently. Harry started; he had almost forgotten the wand that was secreted in the pouch that had hung from his neck for so many months.

“But hang on,” Charlie spoke slowly. “I thought that was Harry’s wand now, it’s the Elder Wand isn’t it? I thought he was its master?”

“Yeah he is, but he doesn’t want it. He wants his own wand, he fixed it and he’s putting the Elder Wand back. So he needs the tomb unsealed until he does that,” Ron answered.

“I wonder what has happened to the other two of the Brother’s things, the Invisibility Cloak and the Resurrection Stone,” Percy mused. “If the Elder Wand is real then maybe they are too. Some people think so you know, even if it is supposed to be just a legend.” Ron snorted inelegantly.

“For a prefect and Head Boy, Perce you weren’t very observant!” Ron laughed. “Harry’s had the Invisibility Cloak since First Year!”

“Well to be fair Ron, the cloak does keep one hidden I don’t know how Percy is supposed to have seen any of us in it,” Hermione stated reasonably. Harry could see in his mind’s eye the others all staring at Ron and Hermione in shock.

“Harry’s got an Invisibility Cloak?” questioned Bill.

“And you’ve been using it to break rules, Ronald?” asked Percy sternly.

“That’s how you got Norberta though the castle without anyone seeing her!” exclaimed Charlie.

“Yeah, but it only works if you don’t forget to put in on,” muttered Hermione. “You get caught by Filch if you leave it behind after you offload a dragon.”

“I always wondered exactly what you lot were doing out of bed, losing Gryffindor so many points,” Percy said sharply. “No one took Malfoy’s babbling about a dragon seriously at all. I think he was rather put out about that actually.”

“Well,” said Hermione, sounding embarrassed, “at least we won them back and it really did work out-”

“Charlie, am I to understand that you encouraged these children to hide and transport an illegal dragon?” Percy interrupted.

“Could we not refer to us as children?” protested Ron. “I shave you know!”

“Well how old were you then, Ronald? At eleven one is still a child,” Percy said officiously.

“I was twelve by then actually, so was Hermione, hey I wasn’t there anyway it was those two. Harry was still eleven though. Dunno if he shaves though …” Ron trailed off.

“You’ve lived with him for how long now?” Hermione exclaimed incredulously, “How can you not know if he shaves?”

“Well, we don’t visit each other in the bathroom, Hermione, we’re not girls!”

“I ‘ope he shaves,” said Fleur thoughtfully. “Ozzerwise our birthday present was useless.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Fleur,” interrupted Ginny, “he shaves.”

“How do you know?” Ron asked sharply.

“So anyway,” Bill said sounding half amused and half exasperated, “how did Harry get an Invisibility Cloak?”

“It’s a family heirloom; Dumbledore passed it on, Christmas of First Year,” Ron reminisced. “Between that and the map you two gave him I reckon we’ve seen every inch of this castle.”

“Map? What map?”Percy sounded indignant at the thought that Harry and Ron had been getting away with things right under his nose with more than one artefact of which he had no intelligence.

“Getting back to the point,” interrupted Charlie. “That doesn’t prove the Resurrection Stone ever existed.”

“Well no, it doesn’t,” said Hermione. “So if we could move on …”

“Have you seen the Resurrection Stone, Hermione?” asked Bill shrewdly. Harry could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered eventually. She continued in a stronger voice. “Anyone who was at Hogwarts last year would have seen it.”

“Harry got hold of it, didn’t he, Hermione?” Ginny’s tremulous voice floated up the stairwell and Hermione sighed.

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore left it to Harry inside the snitch he left him in his will.”

“Okay, out with it Hermione, exactly how much of this story are we missing?” Charlie asked and Harry listened to Ron and Hermione fill the others in on the Horcruxes they were searching for, the quest for the Three Brothers’ artefacts and ultimately how and why Harry had ended it.

“So you’re saying that Harry was one of these hor thingies and he had to stand there and let You-Know-Who kill him to get rid of it, and he walked out there knowing that was the only way to end it? He knew and he let the tosser do it?” George’s voice was hollow. Harry figured Ron or Hermione had nodded because the only sound he heard was Ginny as a sob ripped from her throat. He wanted to run to her but felt drained of all energy and it seemed to take forever to go down each remaining step. He had reached the bottom step, not quite in sight of the Common Room when Ron cleared his throat and his voice cut through the stillness.

“So these fireworks then, how are we going to set them out? If we put them in place tomorrow we don’t have to worry about them on the day of the memorial and we can set them off afterwards.”

“We could set them on the Quidditch stands,” said George quietly. “The higher they are the higher they’ll go. They have to be set with care though; it’s actually a bit dangerous.”

“You could ask Hagrid to help, he likes dangerous things,” said Harry as he stood in the doorway. Eight heads whipped around and then Ginny ran over to him, gripping him painfully in a bone crushing hug.

“Are you alright? Is your head okay? Does anywhere else hurt?” her eyes searched his, probably for any sign of a falsehood.

“I think my lungs are about to be punctured by an overzealous hug,” he wheezed. Ginny blushed and apologised, letting him go and straightening out his robes. Then she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to sit with the others. As they neared the fireplace Harry sank into his favourite chair, pulling his hand from her grip and his knees up to his chest, he stared into the fire. Ginny paused before sitting on the arm of his chair. Harry shrank away from that side of the chair, curling into himself even further. Possibly the others noticed as no one spoke for several minutes.

“Well, I think that asking Hagrid is a splendid idea,” Hermione eventually said briskly. “Perhaps Grawp can help, you know for the really high ones.”

“I think levitating them would be safer, Hermione!” protested Ron. “Grawp’s not exactly the picture of grace is he?”

“Ees your muzzer going to approve of these fireworks?”

“Probably not!” said Charlie cheerfully. “Oh she’ll be fine with the fireworks themselves but if we all vanish to set them up she’ll think we’re up to no good and if she knows what we are doing she’ll think we are going to hurt ourselves. Someone’s going to have to distract her.”

“I think perhaps I had better keep mother company tomorrow,” said Percy officiously. “I will at least try and convince her that none of you are up to no good, although I am not sure she will believe me.”

“She’s never going to believe you if you try and say that about us - about me,” George faltered. The room fell silent again all of them keenly aware of who was missing, of their loss. Harry blinked desperately to stop the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. For once he succeeded and he continued to stare resolutely into the fireplace. After a few moments Bill spoke.

“George, I reckon you have something to say.” Harry heard someone shift uncomfortably and clear their throat. He remained staring into the fire, uncomfortably aware that he owed George an apology.

“George, I’m sorry about what I said last night,” Harry managed to say quietly, still looking into the fire. “I was out of line and I shouldn’t have said that to you.” Harry thought he heard George swear under his breath. There was a rustle of robes and suddenly George was standing in front of Harry who flinched and backed himself further into the chair. George squatted on his haunches, making his face level with Harry’s.

“I think I owe you an apology Harry,” he stated simply. “I belittled your loss, blamed you for Fred’s death, wished you were dead and drew my wand on you. That’s pretty poor form and it really has no excuse.”

“But it’s all true,” Harry whispered in a pained voice as he raised his eyes to finally look at the assembled Weasleys and Hermione. “Why am I still here when other people are dead? I shouldn’t be here, I should be dead. Other people have sacrificed family. You have all sacrificed family. I don’t have any family so it should have been me; my family isn’t going to miss me are they? They’re gone.” Harry got up abruptly, making George stumble backwards, and headed towards the portrait hole. He got halfway there before he felt a strong hand on his arm, spinning him around.

“Don’t you ever think that you don’t have any family to miss you,” Bill said. “We would all lay down our lives for you —“

“Well of course you would, Dumbledore convinced everyone they had to. Protect me; coddle me until I get to die at the hands of some madman who accidentally turned me into something that tethered him to this life and then I can take him out on the way down!” Harry shouted, jerking his arm away from Bill.

“No,” said Bill fiercely. “We would all lay down our life for you, in a heartbeat, because you’re family, because we love you and we don’t want to lose you.”

“Fred’s life wasn’t worth more than yours,” said George as he walked over. Harry took a step back. “If anyone had made me choose between you and Fred I’d have chosen myself before either of you. He knew what he was getting into. We knew that fighting for our freedom could mean death but we had to do it, to make this world safe. It’s not your fault. Fred and I knew what we were doing and we knew why.” George stopped in front of Harry who had backed into a wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew that if he looked anything like he felt he currently looked like a cornered animal. George let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair before swearing softly. He turned to Bill and while the attention was off him Harry took the opportunity to flee.

He escaped out of the portrait hole, ran down the stairs and darted behind a tapestry hiding a secret passage on the sixth floor. He had been petrified that George was going to draw his wand on him again and it was an unnatural and unnerving feeling. Harry stopped and leant against the wall, breathing hard. He had heard George’s voice and he knew that George wasn’t going to hurt him but that didn’t stop his body betraying him and he had been unable to control his reactions. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Would he be always deathly afraid of everyone?

Harry sank to floor, his head in his hands. If they loved him, as Bill had said, why was he so terrified?
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