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SIYE Time:4:42 on 29th March 2024
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Fred's Legacies
By PhoenixFeather2

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley
Genres: Drama
Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 109
Summary: It's the summer after the battle, but victory is not sweet. Old enemies are still causing trouble. Harry and the Weasley's are having trouble moving on. To complicate matters, Fred left something behind.
Hitcount: Story Total: 75306; Chapter Total: 3984







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Hermione’s house was a wreck. The Ministry may have certified it as safe, but it had been thoroughly trashed. “Mudblood” was written on the wall and several nasty posters were affixed with a permanent sticking charm. Every member of the family had tried their luck in removing them when Harry finally had an idea.

“Kreacher” he said simply, and with a crack Kreacher appeared. He looked around at Harry and asked in a voice more polite than anything Ginny had ever heard him use, “Master?”

“These posters,” Harry indicated, “can you get them down?”

“Yes, Master.” Kreacher went to them and began a long incantation. One by one, each of them came off. He rolled them up in his grubby hands and handed them to Harry. “Anything else, Master?”

“No, Kreacher. Thank you. You can return to Grimmauld Place.”

“You will be returning for dinner?”

Ginny shook her head vigorously. Ron and Harry and she would be escorting Hermione’s parents back here. It would be late, and if they could get dinner together she would much prefer it. Harry noticed her.

“After dinner, Kreacher.”

“As Master wishes.” And with a crack Kreacher disappeared.

“I definitely need a house elf,” George remarked. Hermione launched into an automated defense of why they should be paid.

Ginny moved over to work strategically at Harry’s side. They were setting things to rights in the kitchen cabinets when she finally got the guts to speak. “So, Kreacher is good now?”

“Yeah. Long story.” Harry did not elaborate. Ginny let the silence hang for a minute.

“Well, I was thinking. Kingsley said he had asked Ron to work with him as an Auror. That’s what you are doing too, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sounded cautious.

“Mum said she couldn’t stand the family separating off, but Dad will need to be at the Ministry now too. So will Percy. George is talking about trying to open the shop back up. If we were all in London together, then Mom and I could help George with the cleanup and such.” Harry did not say anything so Ginny pressed on. “To be honest, we are all quite sick of Aunt Muriel. I was thinking, seeing that Kreacher is so nice now, maybe Grimmauld Place would be more cheerful. If you would be ok with some company.” She stopped. Harry kept working on a hinge that had not properly repaired itself.

Finally, he spoke. “Yeah. That should work out ok.”

“You would need to suggest it to Mum yourself. If I said it was my idea, it would never work.”

“Right. I’ll go talk to her now then.” With that Harry closed the cabinet door and went off to find Mrs. Weasley. Ginny opened and closed the cabinet door. He had done a perfect job with it.

Mrs. Weasley agreed to move to Grimmauld Place without much persuasion. The Granger’s house was put back together with magical efficiency. Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Harry all changed into muggle clothes and Mr. Weasley escorted them to the airport. They were there a full hour early. Mr. Weasley went back to join Mrs. Weasley.

Harry suggested an early dinner and the four grabbed a bite to eat. They spent most of the time planning strategies for Ron to cope with Hermione’s absence and Ginny didn’t get any time to speak with Harry at all. By the time they were done with supper the Granger’s plane had landed and they were rushing to meet them after all. The Grangers, it turned out, were a reserved, flustered couple, older than Ginny had expected and polite to the point of being unreadable. They thanked everyone for their help and sent the Weasley crew away as soon as they were packed into taxis. Hermione gave Ron a tight hug and kiss on the cheek before hopping in with her parents. One look at Ron’s face told Ginny this would be a long summer.

It was late afternoon the next day when the Weasley’s moved into Grimmauld Place. Harry had managed to get Kreacher to remove a few of the more odious paintings and wallpapers, but the house was still overly formal and dark. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took the master bedroom at Harry’s insistence. He was staying in Sirius’s. Ron moved into Regulus’s with George. Percy took a room next door. Ginny had a stuffy guest bedroom. At least, she thought, this would be better than having to tiptoe around Aunt Muriel or listening to her go on about how the family would have been better off if they had just stuck to their own business instead of getting caught up in battles. Still, she wished that Hermione was here to share the room with her. She had never slept by herself in Grimmauld Place before and the thought of it was not comforting. She briefly thought about sneaking into Harry’s room come evening, then remembered that her parents were staying here too. She sighed and went downstairs.

She sat next to Harry again. He dipped his bread absently into the French onion soup. He left it there so long that it fell apart and sank to the bottom. Ginny counted. It was five seconds before he noticed what had happened. She turned to watch Ron. He was in a discussion with George about the radio news report that Lee Jordan had been running last year. Arthur and Percy were talking ministry news and Molly was sitting in silence. Still, this was the best family meal they had managed in a while. She sighed and took a sip of her own soup.

Kreacher’s cooking was uncommonly good. As Mrs. Weasley hadn’t been feeling up to much, the cooking had recently been done by Aunt Muriel’s house help. Aunt Muriel couldn’t taste much of anything at this point, so the salty, mushy food hadn’t bothered her. Ginny hadn’t dared complain in case she was asked to make dinner instead.

She looked around the table again. No one had asked Harry or Ron for a story of their trip yet. She wondered if now was the time to bring it up. Certainly, her dad would be wanting to know. Though, she thought resentfully, he probably knew a great deal through Kingsley already. And maybe her mom knew through her dad. George would want to know, if he didn’t already know through Ron. Suddenly she realized that there was a real possibility she was the only one out of the loop. Half the wizarding world might know by now. She hadn’t even been reading the papers. Well, they hadn’t even been getting the papers at Aunt Muriel’s. Kingsley had talked about an official release but she had brushed it off. Official releases hadn’t meant much over the last year. She wished now that she had read it. She felt like an idiot.

Harry was staring at her. “What is it, Gin?” He asked under his breath so just she would hear. “It’s...” Ginny looked around. “Can we get some time to talk tonight? Just us.”

“Something wrong?” Harry looked really worried about the request.
“What? No. I don’t think so.”

“Meet me in the drawing room upstairs then? After dinner.”

Ginny nodded and turned back to her soup. It was only the first course in the dinner. By desert she was both stuffed and groggy. Really, she could not remember having so many tired days before in her entire life.

Harry got up from the table and played host marvelously, making sure that everyone knew where the bathrooms were and which baths worked. Given that everyone had stayed there before, this was perhaps a bit excessive. Then again, given the fog in which Mrs. Weasley was operating, perhaps not. Harry also gave Kreacher very specific instructions on how to treat the guests. He then gave Percy and George very specific instructions on how to treat Kreacher. Ginny excused herself as the arrangements were being made, kissed her parents goodnight on the pretext of exhaustion from the moving process and slipped into the upstairs sitting room. She had just drifted off to sleep when Harry came in. She started again instinctively, fumbled wildly for her wand and fell off the armchair.

“You alright there, Gin?” Harry reached over and helped her up. He led her to the much larger couch and sat down next to her.

“Yeah. Fine. Glad Fred and George weren’t there to see, that’s–“ Ginny stopped short.

Harry rubbed her hand thoughtfully. “Ron would make fun too,” he offered at last covering the silence.

“Don’t you dare tell him!” The threat was a half-hearted attempt to keep the conversation going.

“Of course not.” They sat together for a while. Harry had closed the door behind him and lit only a dim lamp. Ginny couldn’t decide if this made it gloomy or cozy. It certainly did make it private. “You had something you wanted to talk about.” Harry spoke softly. He was still holding her hand.

Ginny struggled with knowing where to begin. There were some things she had put together for herself. But she wanted to hear everything from him. He would answer her questions, if she asked the right ones. But she didn’t want to push too far in either. She drew a deep breath and took his other hand in her other hand. “Harry, I haven’t read the ministry version of what happened. And, Ron and Hermione won’t talk to me about this either. Hermione said it was something you had to tell me. Maybe it’s a long story. It’s just, well, I seem to still be your girlfriend.” She held up their hands. He didn’t say anything. “I never really let you go. But you were gone for so long and–Bill saw you. Ron saw you. Dad knew something. I’m your girlfriend, but I don’t know anything. I need to know what happened.”

Harry nodded slowly. He seemed to have been expecting this. Still, he didn’t answer for a long time.

“I’m sorry I had to keep you in the dark, Ginny. Truth is, even your dad doesn’t know what happened yet. I reckon he’ll be wanting Ron to tell him soon. It’s fine if he does now. But earlier, it had to be secret. We were looking for something that was secret. Something, well, you have some familiarity with. We were looking for Horcruxes, like Riddle’s diary.”

“There were more?” Ginny shuddered. Riddle’s diary was a memory she tried her best to erase.

“Yes. Well, not diaries. Other objects. Bits of Voldemort that tied him to life. He had them hidden, and we didn’t know where to start, but we couldn’t just ask around. Dumbledore might have known more, but–well, he wasn’t around to help us look for long. So, it was…well, the worst sort of treasure hunt you can imagine, I guess.”

Ginny nodded. That seemed about right. Bill had told them that the three had been camping out on the run. And the break into Gringotts would fit.

“What were they?”

Harry hesitated. “Voldemort intended to make six. That would make his soul into seven pieces. The diary was the first. There was a locket of Slytherin, and a ring. There was a cup that belonged to Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw’s diadem.”

Ginny started. “You found it? The diadem?”

“Oh. Yeah. It was in the Room of Requirement, where I hid my potions book. Anyhow, it got destroyed. Fiendfire. Crabbe started it trying to kill us.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“No need to. He’s dead. Died in the fire.” Harry stared off into a dark corner of the room, obviously collecting himself. Why he should care about Crabbe’s death was beyond Ginny, but she figured if he was opening up she shouldn’t shut him down.

“So, was that it then? For the Horcruxes?”

“No. The snake was one.”

“Nagini? The one Neville killed?”

“Yup.”

“So that’s six. And you killed Voldemort.”

Harry sat in the silence. He didn’t say anything. “Harry?” Ginny looked at him.

“There was a seventh.”

“What?”

“Voldemort made another one, by accident.”

“How do you make a Horcrux by accident?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably and let go of her hands. He rubbed his brow and nervously ruffled his hair. “They’re made by killing people.” He paused.

“But not every time he killed.”

“No. There is–stuff--that has to be said and done before the killing.”

“Well, then, how was one done by accident?” Ginny didn’t mean to be a pest but she knew Riddle well and she knew Harry well and this seemed important.

“He intended to make one when he went to kill my mum and me. So, everything had been done already and….” Harry had somehow managed to fold completely into himself. He was sitting in a fetal ball on the couch, his hands pulling desperately at his hair.

Ginny understood. He didn’t need to finish the last sentence. She covered his hair with her own hands, blocking his. "Harry. You asked me once if you were possessed by Voldemort. And I told you that you were not. You’re telling me, aren’t you, that you had a bit of his soul in you after all?”

Harry did not look up. He nodded. His whole body was shaking. Ginny gently pried his legs down so that she could get in to hug him. “Harry. It’s not easy to have Voldemort around. It’s terrible when he gets in your head. If you had, a part of him, in you–and Harry, you were still so good. It just means you were an even better person than I thought, doesn’t it?”

She kissed him gently on the cheek. The aftermath of having Voldemort’s soul with you, that was something she understood well. The odd looks of shame and self-loathing she had caught on his face made sense now, but there was no way she was going to let that continue. She knew. She of all people knew. Harry made no reply. His terrified shaking turned into sobs. Ginny cast a muffliato at the door to keep her parents or Kreacher from coming in. She held Harry and let him cry.

It was past midnight before Ginny climbed into her bed. She had seen Harry tucked into his first. She’d sat with him until he had fallen asleep. When she woke up the next morning and made it down to the kitchen, she discovered she was the last one up. Harry was sitting at the table with her dad. The conversation broke off abruptly as she entered the room.

“What?” Ginny looked in concern from the one to the other.

“Er…” Harry looked over at Arthur and then back to Ginny. “I was just asking your dad if I could take you out and show you around Muggle London. Kingsley told me not to come in to the office before 1 since it’s Saturday.”

Ginny almost asked why Harry was going into the office at all on Saturday, but realized her dad was dressed for the office too. Arthur looked at Ginny. “It’s ok with me, hun.”

“I’d love to go out with you, Harry.” It was almost too good to be true, Harry asking her out and her dad not even making a fuss.

“How about we get breakfast out? I know Kreacher’s food is good, but it’s almost 11.” Ginny nodded. She had slept late. They only had two hours. She ran upstairs to get her shoes and checked herself in the mirror. Ginny didn’t know much about Muggle fashion, but jeans and a light jumper would have to do the trick.

Two whole hours with Harry in the Muggle world! She smiled as they walked down the street, dodging the splash of a bus. Harry told her all about Muggle conventions. He bought her a bus pass and they rode down to a cozy little spot where he bought a huge breakfast sandwich for Ginny and a large coffee for each of them. Ginny looked around curiously. Despite her dad’s constant tinkering with Muggle contraptions, she had not spent much time in the Muggle world. Fred and George used to go down to the village and she had been a few times with them, but not to sit down and watch people. Besides, the village was much quieter than London. Harry handled the money to pay for food and Ginny realized that she wouldn’t have had a clue what to do with it.

“You really should teach me how to do things for myself in London, Harry.” Ginny commented. “After all, I won’t let you pay for every date.”

“Well, we can have a lesson right now. This,” Harry humored her, laying an odd looking piece of paper with someone’s face on it on the table, “is a one pound note.”

“So, how much is it worth, in our money?” Ginny asked picking up the piece of paper. It was different, she noticed, on each side.

“There are about five pounds in each galleon. So that note is about two or three sickles.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. This might be hard to keep track of. Arithmancy had never been her thing. “So the coins you used for the bus?”

Harry grinned and brought out a pocket of change. He was enjoying giving this lesson. Ginny leaned in across the table, asking him to explain, and re-explain. By the time she had finished her coffee and mastered Muggle money, there wasn’t much time left. Harry and she hadn’t talked about anything from the last year, but he had been happy the whole time. Ginny decided the date had been a smashing success.

Harry went off to the office after bringing her back home. Ginny managed to get Percy and George into a game of exploding snap to wear out the afternoon. There was a memorial service in the evening, the last of the services for those who had died in the battle, with a reading of everyone’s name. Harry was there and at next to Ginny. She buried her head in his arm early in the litany of the dead and did not reappear till several minutes after it was done. Ginny was grateful when they went home. Aunt Muriel’s had never felt like home, but, even with its dark gloominess, Grimmauld Place did. It was cozy and familiar and she didn’t have to worry about it belonging to someone else. Well, to Harry, but that didn’t count.
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