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SIYE Time:0:59 on 29th March 2024
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Don't Let Me Down
By Bekah Jo

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Category: Post-Hogwarts
Characters:All
Genres: General
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations
Rating: R
Reviews: 146
Summary: After the Dark Lord has been defeated during the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry is finally able to rekindle his relationship with Ginny and work on building a normal life. When He, Ron, and Hermione are given the chance to return to their beloved school, everyone is ecstatic, except Harry. An amazing opportunity has Harry thinking his future lies elsewhere.
Hitcount: Story Total: 53431; Chapter Total: 3103





Author's Notes:
I, of course, take no credit for the song lyrics at the end. That is from the brilliant writing team of Lennon-McCartney, on their song "All My Loving". If you couldn't tell from the story title, The Beatles have helped with my writing inspiration and I've had them on almost a continuous loop while bringing this story together. I feel Harry and Ginny's relationship reflected in many of their songs, so I've tried to weave the band into bits of the story. Enjoy!




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Dumbledore informing him that it was all an elaborate hoax….Ron and Hermione leaving him burned, and buried alive, under fake treasure, in the Lestrange vault…..Voldemort slowly peeling off his face to reveal Sirius, cackling mockingly…..Dobby apparating him to Riddle’s cliffside cave and leaving him stranded in the middle of the lake, as inferi slowly crawled out of the still water and silently strangled him….


Harry continued to be plagued by nightmares every evening. Molly gave him numerous sleeping potions, each one stronger than the last, but nothing could silence his subconscious. Inevitably he would would wake, several times through the night, soaked in sweat and his heart racing.

The hammock seemed to be the only exception. Rocking in the breeze, usually with Ginny by his side, Harry was mercifully able to drift off into a dreamless slumber, for an hour or two.

One such lazy afternoon, Harry had just dozed off when the air was rent by a slamming door and a familiar voice yelling, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

“Hermione!” Ginny screamed. She bolted out of the hammock and darted for the house, leaving Harry swaying, dazed and confused, with a shower of cherries raining down on him .

It took him a full minute to regain his senses before he was able to stumble out of the orchard. The two girls were hugging and talking so fast that Harry could only make out every other word or so.

“Harry!” Hermione called as Harry scaled the wall. “You look rough,” she quipped, pulling him in for a hug.

“Hello to you too,” he chuckled.

“Still having nightmares?” Hermione asked, studying the shadows under his eyes.

“Only every night,” Harry replied, rubbing his neck. “That’s nothing new though. How are you? Nobody was expecting to see you until tomorrow.”

“I know, but we got back a day early, so I thought I’d drop by and surprise everyone.”

The trio migrated to the kitchen as Hermione started filling them in about Australia and the process her parents had to undergo in getting their memories restored.

“That sounds exhausting,” Ginny said, frowning. “Was it painful for them?”

“Physically, no,” Hermione answered. “But the emotional distress was really hard. You could see it on their faces when a particularly bad experience was recovered, like my grandparents passing,” she said, her voiced straining. Ginny passed a box of tissues across the table and Hermione blew her nose. After a moment, she continued, “It’s because of things like that, that the process has to be done gradually. Letting a person regain every single memory in one day would send anyone into a nervous breakdown. There…..there were times when I wondered if I was doing the right thing….making them relive everything…..”

“Of course you made the right choice,” Ginny assured her. “How could you not bring your parents home?”

“Because they were happy there,” she whispered. “I watched them relive half a century of experiences, many that I wasn’t even aware of. The good, the bad…I saw it all. It felt insanly selfish of me, putting them through that. But I couldn’t bear not have my mum and dad in my life. I couldn’t imagine not having them around when I finally graduate, or get married, or have children. I needed them back.”

“There’s nothing selfish about wanting your parents in your life,” Harry insisted. Through her tears, Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. “Are they happy to be back with you?”

“They seem to be,” Hermione said slowly. “I mean, they keep telling me that they’re glad I came back for them. They’re looking into rebuilding their dental practice, and want me to bring Ron over for Sunday dinner. It’s just…..I know they were happy in their other life….and knowing that I caused them so much pain-“

“Hermione, stop,” Harry said, grabbing her hand. “Your parents love you. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up over it, or you’ll drive yourself mad. New rule- no more guilt trips for going after what we want, what we need, in life. We’ve all been doing it lately and if we continue on, all of us will end up in an asylum.” Harry exhaled slowly and stood up. “Sorry for that bit of tough love.”

Hermione sobbed and flung herself at him.

Harry hugged her tightly and said, “I’m happy everyone got back safely,” He patted her back and leaned back. “How about we take a trip to Diagon Alley?”

“I take it you and Ron talked things through?” Hermione sniffled, dabbing her eyes and picking up her purse.

“Of course,” Harry replied nonchalantly, “I just needed to get a few pints in him and we’re best mates again.”

“A ‘few’ pints in both of them,” Ginny corrected.

Hermione giggle and sighed, “I missed you guys so much!”

A few minutes later they were strolling up the cobbled street, to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Hermione opened the door and Ron looked up at the sound of the tinkling bell.

“Hermione?” Ron said, slightly bewildered.

Hermione didn’t say a word. She ran for Ron, jumped into his arms, and kissed him hard, giving no sign that the affectionate reunion would be brief.

George casually pushed them behind the stock room curtain. “Don’t want to scare our customers now, do we?”

“When they come up for air, send ‘em to the Leaky Cauldron, for lunch,” Harry said, opening the door. “Want us to bring you anything?”

“Yeah, make sure Casanova comes back with some soup and kippers,” George instructed.

Harry and Ginny turned right, starting off for the Leaky Cauldron. As they walked past Broomstix, Harry slowed and ogled the the racing brooms in the window. It had been over a year since he last flew. His Firebolt had been lost in his escape from Privet Drive, and he never got a chance to replace it. He had had the urge to take Ron’s Cleansweep for a spin, the day he cleaned out the shed, but the fear of being jinxed had kept his feet on the ground. Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and pulled her into the shop.

Half an hour later, Harry’s pockets were considerably lighter and he was beaming at his new Firebolt. He had gone over every broom available, comparing features, seriously considering going back to a Nimbus for a moment. But when he picked up the Firebolt, it just felt right in his hand. The shop keeper touted it as a Firebolt 2.0, though that wasn’t it’s official name. But, he explained to Harry, that over the last few years. it had gotten a few minor tweaks, like upgrading the handle from ash to ebony. It also now went from naught to one hundred and fifty five miles per hour, outstripping it’s predecessor by five miles.

“You think they play Quidditch in America?” Harry wondered, as they reached The Leaky Cauldron.

“I remember Dad saying something about American wizards devoted to a game called Quodpot.” Ginny answered.

“What the hell is Quodpot?”

“Don’t know exactly. Dad said that back in the 70’s a few wizards tried to popularize it here. It never caught on though, obviously. Maybe Flourish and Blotts has a book on it?”

“Oi, where have you been?” Ron called from the back of the pub. Harry held up his broomstick and Ron grinned. “Brilliant! Fancy a game when I’m done work?”

“I certainly didn’t buy it as a fashion accessory,” Harry stated. He and Ginny took their seats just as Tom sidled over to take their orders.

Once Butterbeers had been summoned and Tom hurried off to the kitchen, Hermione slapped a new, thick, daily planner on the table and brandished a shimmering, peacock feathered quill. She lost herself in the planner, scratching various notes here and there. Harry and Ginny listened as Ron told them about what’s been going on at the shop and some of the new stuff he started working on with George.

“I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would,” Ron said, draining the last of his Butterbeer. “At first it was an excuse to escape from things.” He threw a guilty look at Harry. “But, it’s been really fun running the shop with George, and seeing how all the products work.”

Their food arrived and Hermione finally gave her quill a rest.

“You do know you haven’t been set any homework yet, right?” Harry joked, stirring up his pea soup.

Hermione gave him a cross look before answering, “Of course I know that. I’ve just been looking at time tables and thinking about upcoming birthdays,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Harry and Ginny. “I have an idea that I think would actually be quite fun.”

Ron and Harry exchanged worried glances.

“Go on then,” Ron said, slowly

“I thought, that instead of celebrating your birthdays separately, we could celebrate them together, on Ginny’s birthday,” Hermione suggested. Her eyes gleamed as she continued. “A new muggle-themed, dance club opened up, in Wimbourne. I thought it would make for a really fun night!”

“I don’t dance,” Harry stated.

“Oh, please. You danced fine at the Yule Ball,” Hermione insisted.

Ginny laughed and said,”Hermione, you must of been under the spell of a certain Quid-“ She was cut off by Ron’s murderous glare and backpedaled quickly. “I mean, don’t you remember how awkward he was with Parvati? It was a bit painful to watch.”

“She speaks a hard truth,” Harry attested, stuffing a chunk of bread in his mouth.

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said, attempting to get the conversation back on track. “If we wait until August 11, then Ginny will be of age and we can all go out together and celebrate. I was thinking that maybe we could invite a few others, like Neville and Luna, and have a bit of a send off for Harry, too.”

“I think it sounds like a brilliant idea, Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed “Where did you hear about this club?”

“The Good News section of the Daily Prophet,” Hermione said, incredulously. “Honestly, I’m out of the country for a month, and still know more about what’s going on around here than you lot.”

“I try to stay clear of the Prophet,” Harry muttered.

“Anyway,” Hermione huffed. “They had a small review of it and it’s getting quite popular. They play music from muggle bands and serve muggle cocktails.”

Ron looked at her confused. “You were raised by muggles. How is any of this interesting to you?”

Hermione was trying to keep calm, but was obviously getting frustrated by the second. “I thought it would be fun to see the wizarding take on a muggle night club. But if you’re just going to complain then we can do the usual, boring birthday dinner and cake.”

“No, we’re doing this!” Ginny insisted, elbowing Harry's side, harder than he felt was warranted.

“Of course,” Harry agreed. “We’ll dress in our muggle best and go tear up the night.”

Hermione smiled, gratefully. “Ginny, I thought you and I could take a day and go into muggle London. We’ll shop, have lunch, maybe catch a show.”

“Sounds lovely, count me in,” Ginny said as she finished her pork pie.

Tom came back with George’s lunch and Ron stood up. “Alright, I’m off,” he declared, quickly kissing Hermione. “See you guys later tonight.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny paid their tab, and then stopped at Florean Fortescue’s for ice cream, before heading back to the Burrow.

Ginny and Hermione started going over their supply lists for the upcoming year. Harry was in the sitting room, admiring his broomstick, when a large barn owl swooped in the window. The owl dropped a thick envelope on Harry’s head, before soaring back out.

Harry pealed away the purple ministry seal and found his orientation packet for the A.A.A. There was a welcome letter, congratulating him on his fine educational choice and assuring him a bright future. A second parchment detailed his course schedule for the school year. It was broken into two terms, fall and spring, and different classes for each term.

The items that took up the bulk of the package were a t-shirt with A.A.A. embroidered in red, white, and blue, and a booklet devoted to the Los Angeles campus. It toured the magical facilities, and gave suggestions for popular spots around the city, both muggle and wizarding. There were course descriptions and biographies of all the professors. New students were encouraged to attend a “freshman meet and greet banquet” on Saturday, September fifth.

The final piece of parchment in the envelope was a personal letter from Kingsley:



“Dear Harry,



I hope this letter finds you well, and making the most out of your summer holidays. I’m pleased to inform you that you’re now an official student at the Auror Academy of America. It really is a unique opportunity and I urge you to take advantage of everything it offers, both in and outside the classroom.

I have arranged for your travels to begin the morning of Friday, September fourth, to allow you the chance to enjoy the orientation festivities. Your personal effects will be sent along the evening before. You’ll find them waiting in your dormitory upon your arrival. Your first portkey is scheduled for nine o’clock, a.m.. Please arrive at the Department for Magical Transportation no later than eight-fifteen, to prepare for your departure.

Finally, Harry, I want to let you know that I have confided your plans to only a few key people here. You are, of course, free to tell whoever you would like. I just want to reassure you that I’ve done my very best to make sure the press doesn’t find out, and that you can have a peaceful school year.



Best Wishes,

Kinglsey Shacklebolt





Harry gathered everything up and went into the kitchen, to join the girls at the table.

“We were just talking, Harry,” Hermione started, turning a few pages back in her planner. “And on Ron’s next day off, we’re going to meet up in Diagon Alley to get all our supplies. Would you like to join us?”

“Yeah, I’d actually like to pick up a few books at Flourish and Blotts,” Harry answered. He held up the contents of his mail and said, “Kingsley just sent along all the information for the Auror Academy.” Harry caught a glance of Ginny’s shoulders slump at his news.

“I thought the ministry told you all your books were being taken care of?” Hermione asked.

“They are,” Harry assured. “But, if I could, I’d like to take a peek at your book lists, and maybe get copies of them to go along with my course materials. I’m really nervous about having such a big gap in my studies.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Ginny quietly reassured.

“There’s just a few subjects I’d like to brush up on before being thrown into the thick of it all, like Potions and Transfiguration,” Harry continued on. “I got by in those classes, but I wouldn’t say I excelled.”

Hermione had picked up the welcome book and was paging through, eyes alight.

“Harry, this looks amazing,” she gushed. “Look at the accomplishments of all these professors! And you get your own cute, little flat in the dormitory.” She turned a few more pages and gasped, “And it’s all right along the beach! I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave a place like this!”

A strangled sob escaped from Ginny and Harry sent a spurning glare at Hermione.

“But, I mean, of course Harry will want to!” Hermione tried to quickly cover her remarks. “I’m sure the constant sunshine gets a bit boring after a while.”

Ginny’s chair scraped harshly over the tile. “Excuse me,” Ginny gulped. She stood and hurried out the back door.

Harry let his forehead thud against the wooden table.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” Hermione moaned. “I got so excited for you and didn’t even think about what the bloody hell I was saying. I’ll go talk to her.”

“No,” Harry groaned. He turned his face to look at her, head still on the table. “I’m a lousy boyfriend. I really wish I had a time turner at the moment.”

“Would you really choose not to go to America, if you could go back in time?” Hermione asked.

Harry exhaled loudly. “No, it’s not that. I would go back and include Ginny in the decision making process instead of just springing the news like I did” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I have a lot to learn about the intricacies of relationships.”

“You’ll both get there,” Hermione assured, patting Harry’s head.

“Thanks,” Harry pulled himself from the table and got to his feet. He slowly made his way out the back door, and into the orchard. He found Ginny lying in the hammock, staring at the sky.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, sitting down in the grass. He gave the hammock a gentle push and sent it swaying.

“For what?” Ginny croaked. “No one did anything. I just had a moment of weakness.”

“Ginevra Weasley, you are anything but weak,” Harry insisted. “I’m sorry because I should have included you in my decision to study in America. It was a shit move, to leave you out of something so important. It’s not how you treat someone you love.”

Ginny rolled onto her side to look at Harry. “You love me?”

“The fact that you’re questioning it just confirms that I am, indeed, a lousy boyfriend,” Harry sighed, with a half smile.

“No,” Ginny whispered. “You’re not lousy.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him to the hammock. He crawled in and wrapped his arm around her waist. “You might be a little impetuous at times, and while it can be frustrating, it’s also one of the reasons that I love you.”

Harry kissed her, long and slow, savoring every sweet moment.

Ginny was the first to pull away. “Promise me you’ll come back,” she whispered, her lips still on his.

“Promise.”

“And promise me you’ll write me, all the time.”

“Twice a day, if you like,” Harry grinned.

“Some of us have lives, Potter,” Ginny chided. “Once a week, at least.”

“Once a week,” Harry agreed.

Ginny laid her head of Harry’s chest and took a deep breath as a sudden breeze rocked the hammock.

“Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you. Tomorrow I’ll miss you,” Harry started to sing, stroking Ginny’s hair. “Remember I’ll always be true.”

Ginny chuckled softly and said, “I think your talents might be wasted as an Auror.”

“I can’t take credit for that,” Harry laughed. “It’s the work of a genius muggle band, The Beatles. An old neighbor, on Privet Drive, used to play their records often, and I would listen at the fence.”

“Can I hear more?” Ginny urged.

“I’ll pretend that I’m kissing, the lips I am missing, and hope that my dreams will come true,” Harry crooned. “And then while I’m away, I’ll write home everyday, and I’ll send all my loving to you.”
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