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Socks
By Deadptarmigan

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Drama
Warnings: None
Rating: R
Reviews: 41
Summary: When Dumbledore dies in the middle of Harry's sixth year, it changes everything. Years later, the war is over, but it is desperately hard to go home again.
Hitcount: Story Total: 22218; Chapter Total: 1642
Awards: View Trophy Room






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Safe Haven

24 June 1999

HARRY POTTER DEFEATS YOU-KNOW-WHO!

Jack Shepherd

Harry Potter, formerly known as Undesirable Number One, released Britain's Wizarding and Muggle communities alike from You-Know-Who. The Battle of Diagon Alley (as some witnesses are now calling it) began and ended rather quickly. There were few there who were not fighting (see "How Wizarding Economy Has Deteriorated," page 12), but The Daily Prophet managed to interview several witnesses.

"You-Know-Who brought a few Death Eaters," said Mafalda Hopkirk, Head of the (Ministry Department). She had gone to Diagon Alley in order to buy several protective amulets that are said to ward away both werewolves and feral cats, and ended up being present for one of the greatest Wizarding events in modern history. "I didn't see everything, mind," she added. "But I recognized Harry Potter straight away. I thought - this was it, and it was. Potter let himself be hit with the Killing Curse, and not a minute later, Fiendfyre attacked You-Know-Who and he was gone."

Mrs. Hopkirk is recovering in the newly reopened St. Mungo's from being stunned. While the details may not be absolutely correct -

The Daily Prophet is uncertain of the possibility of a wizard not only surviving the curse once, but twice - the end result is the same: You-Know-Who is dead, and his followers have plunged into hiding (see "Death Eaters and the Government," page 8).

Mr. Potter is unavailable for comment, though reliable sources claim he is recovering from his injuries in the hospital wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

HPHPPHPHPPHPHPHPHPHPHP

2 5 June 1999

Dear Mum and Dad,

I can't believe this long war is finally over, and I'm glad that you two, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Harry, and Hermione survived the final battle. I really wish that I could have been there. Really wish. I'm sure you have already noticed that I'm not at Hogwarts. I had to get out of Britain. There was nothing I needed there.

Love from,

Ginny

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

06 July 1999

Harry blinked slowly awake. Immediately overwhelmed by the blinding, white light, he squeezed his eyes closed again. Memory came flooding back: the Killing Curse, talking with Dumbledore, hearing that he didn't have to be dead, lying on the ground at Voldemort's feet–

"Who lit me on fire?" he croaked.

"Harry!" Hermione squeaked, startled.

"He's awake!" Ron shouted.

Harry chanced opening his eyes again. It wasn't quite as painful as it had been last time. Experimenting, he shifted himself on the bed. His limbs felt drained of energy, and stirred almost feebly. He felt like an old man. "How long?" he asked, tongue thick in his mouth.

Hermione, now sobbing, attempted to answer. It took her several tries. "Weeks,"

she managed finally. "Two weeks."

"Don't cry," said Harry. "We won, didn't we?" he asked, suddenly uncertain. He recognized exactly where he was: the hospital wing at Hogwarts. How many times had he been trapped in one of these very same beds due to some injury or other? And if he was back at Hogwarts–

"Yeah, we won," said Ron. His face was very pale beneath his freckles. "Harry, I'm the one who lit you on fire — I swear, I had no idea that you were — were alive, and I was so furious with V-Voldemort–"

The fact that Ron could say Voldemort's name without much fear told Harry more than anything that the Order of the Phoenix had unbelievably won the war. "Don't," Harry shook his head. Little rockets of pain burst behind his eyes. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

"Barely," Ron said in a low voice.

Harry might have said something more, to reassure Ron, but stampeding footsteps alerted him to the fact that others were coming. They edged blurrily into his vision; most of them had red hair. Harry tried to count them, but that made his head swim; he thought he could see Remus Lupin and Tonks with them.

"You're awake!" Mrs. Weasley said, voice shaking.

"You gave us quite a fright," Mr. Weasley's deep voice rumbled in his chest. Harry remembered the last time he'd spoken to Ron's father: the man had told him he was a Horcrux.

"I knew 'e would survive," Fleur said.

"If You-Know — if Voldemort couldn't kill him, then Ron certainly couldn't," said Bill.

Harry squashed the urge to grin. The last time he'd woken up, it had been the day of the final battle. He'd been alone, and his stomach had been cramping with the knowledge of what he must do. Now he was surrounded by his family. Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Remus, Tonks, and even Charlie–

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked sharply, his stomach flooding with ice, reeling with his sudden change of mood. The absence of the twins — and even Percy — was bad enough, but what if she'd been killed and–

"Ginny has decided that she doesn't want to be a part of this family anymore," Bill said in an ugly voice.

No one refuted him.

"What?" Harry said blankly.

"That isn't quite right," Mrs. Weasley said half-heartedly.

"I know you want to believe the best, Mum, but she cleaned out her half of the twins' accounts, and took off on a trip around the world," Bill said angrily. Harry glanced over at Hermione, wondering what the hell had happened while he'd been sleeping. But Hermione just shrugged, a helpless look crossing her face.

"I'm sure this last year has been hard on her," Mrs. Weasley said in a subdued voice. Harry had the feeling that this was not the first time this topic had been under discussion for the Weasleys. But it was new to him, and he was still shocked.

"She just left?" Harry asked.

"And wrote as a dodgy little note," said Ron.

"I expect she's angry with me–" Mrs. Weasley began.

"We were protecting her," Ron said in a hard voice. Harry blinked rapidly; Ron usually got along with his little sister quite well. "Protecting her, and she had a temper tantrum and left, Harry. Took her share of Fred and George's money and... just left."

"Ron," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "That's enough."

"It isn't bloody enough," Ron said angrily. "Moody's dead — so is Susan Bones and Terry Boot — Neville's lucky he's alive,Tonks got a really shitty deal, and Ginny is acting like a selfish, spoiled little–"

"Moody's dead?" Harry asked, feeling the room tilting around him. "And shit, Ron, what the hell...? What the hell happened to Neville?"

His incoherence stopped the fight mid-word, and Ron looked apologetic. "Neville had to hold the Enforcer compound... keep all those little assholes from joining the fight - they tortured him," he added. "And I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just broken everything like that..." he scrubbed his face. "Yeah, Moody, he died. He took Nagini with him, though," he added, as though that helped. "Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Michael Corner probably won't make it... there were about fifteen others I didn't even know that fought for us–"

"We didn't know them thanks to Moody's charm," Hermione said.

"Don't talk to me about that damn charm," Lupin growled angrily. At Harry's questioning look, he gestured toward Tonks, whose lips were pressed tightly together. "Moody died, but his charm didn't. And we have no idea how to lift it, so she's incapable of talking about being a member of the Order."

Harry was confused at this. "How come you — we — can, then?" he asked, his brain trying to focus on at least one thread of the conversation. Moody, Susan, and Terry — all dead. Ginny was gone. And Tonks was apparently still under the influence of a dire charm.

"Mad-Eye took the charm off of everyone who was at the final battle," said Hermione. "Remember? But Tonks was with Teddy, so he never lifted it off of her."

"And it was quite a powerful charm," said Lupin, folding his arms. "If I'd known, I never would've agreed to do it — or let Tonks do it."

"I'm working on figuring out a way to break it, though," Bill said hurriedly. "It's just... more difficult than I thought it would be."

Harry lifted his arm slowly — it felt like it was full of lead — and pressed it over his eyes. His stomach was rolling around, and his mind was trying to deal with everything. But it seemed almost impossible. Blackness edged his vision, and sparkling darkness threatened to cover him.

Hating how weak he felt, he forced himself to talk. "Funerals?" he asked.

"They've already happened," Mrs. Weasley said gently. "Everyone wanted to wait, but..."

"Right," Harry said wearily. Suddenly, he just wanted to go back to sleep, and not have to hear about everything. He wished he didn't have to hear about more deaths, or other ways that lives had been turned upside down. Could Tonks even talk at all? Or had Moody's charm effectively muted her.

"I'm fine," Tonks said quietly, as though reading his thoughts. "It's inconvenient"–Remus made a noise like an angry bear–"but it isn't that big of a deal," she said loudly.

Harry nodded, wondering if there was a polite way to ask everyone to leave. Where was Madam Pomfrey when he needed her?

"I think Harry needs his rest," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. She raised her wand and a tall, bright green bottle flew toward him. "Drink this, please, yes, all of it."

The Weasleys and Lupin and Tonks murmured their good-byes as he drank down the vile tasting potion. They promised to return as soon as he woke up again; Harry was grateful for that, but he was conversely glad that they were leaving.

All but two of them.

"We'll just stay until you fall asleep," said Hermione, patting his hand.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPH

10 July 1999

Neville wiped his shaking, damp palms on his second best robes, and glanced around nervously. The Minister for Magic had a spacious waiting area outside his offices, and Neville was currently the only occupant except for a dour-faced witch that used her wand to file a series of reports.

Don't be so damned nervous, for Merlin's sake, he told himself nervously. But eversince the battle at the Enforcer's compound (which had happened almost simultaneously to the others' battle with Voldemort himself), Neville's nerves had been shot.

The Cruciatus Curse did that to a person, as Neville knew very well. Thirteen minutes of awful, lacerating pain, and he woke up with nightmares almost every night. It was a small mercy, Neville privately thought, that he had been bound to silence by Moody's charm. That way he didn't get tempted to make a complete fool of himself by crying on someone's shoulder.

His parents had been under the Cruciatus for hours, had had their minds destroyed by the never-ending pain. Thirteen minutes was nothing compared to that.

When the Minister's voice boomed out, Neville jerked.

Hiding his trembling hands in the folds of his robes, he made his way toward Kingsley Shacklebolt's office. John Dawlish knocked him in the shoulder, on his way out, and sneered at Neville.

"Traitor," Dawlish spat.

Neville stared at his retreating back, wondering if he ought to be careful if he ever went out alone. The former Enforcers — those who had not been killed — were not happy that their downfall had come from within the compound. Well. He'd be certain to take all necessary precautions.

Stomach aching with nerves he knocked twice on the Minister's door.

"Come in, Mr. Longbottom," said Minister Shacklebolt. He looked very tired, Neville noticed. He leaned back in his chair behind the huge, mahogany desk; his broad face was lined with weariness.

"Reporting, sir," said Neville.

"So I see," said the Minister. He leaned forward and steepled his fingers. "But we both know that you don't really need to be here, don't we? There's no reason for a member of the Order of the Phoenix to be called into account for actions done as an Enforcer."

Neville opened his mouth, but the dam in his mind prevented him from saying a word. Instead of letting frustration overcome him, he just shrugged.

"Ah," the Minister said. "I'd hoped that Moody would've at least taken the charm off of you before the battle. I can see our interview won't go very far," he added wryly. "Tonks is just the same, although she's quite able to complain about it. And Remus acts as her voice well enough."

Neville did not know what he could say, so he did not even try. The Minister seemed to expect this.

"Bill Weasley is working out how to break the charm," he announced. "It's a tricky bit of magic that Moody wrought, and Weasley's having a devilish time."

"That's too bad for Tonks," Neville murmured. The Minister's eyes swung back to his, sharp and piercing. Shacklebolt seemed to guess that Neville did not want to speak of his time with the Enforcers, and that he almost hoped that a way to break the charm would never be found.

His palms were clammy again, and he had started to sweat.

"I have decided that all members of the Order of the Phoenix who wish to become Aurors will not have to endure training," said Shacklebolt, after clearing his throat. "I know Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are going to join up, and I'm sure you–"

"No," said Neville with more force than he meant. "No, thank you," he amended. His hands were shaking so hard that he was afraid it was visible, even through his robes. He glanced out the window. The sunny sky revealed that Magical Maintenance was pleased to not be under the boot heels of Death Eaters any longer. Neville took a deep breath. "I wanted to be a magical herbologist," he said painfully. "I wanted to work with plants."

Shacklebolt nodded once, apparently unperturbed. "Well," he said. "If you should change your mind…"

The Minister let the sentence dangle. Neville thought about how he wanted to hear the wind rustle the leaves of trees he'd planted with his own shaky hands — the seedlings wouldn't fault him a tremble. But as the way things stood, he didn't want to listen to spells and curses rush past him; he didn't think he could hold his own in a duel any longer.

"I'll keep you in mind," Neville said. "Thank you."

"No need for thanks," said the Minister. "In fact… in about two weeks, the wizarding world is going to thank you for your service. You're to be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

Neville stared at him blankly, blinking. The Order of Merlin, First Class? First? Unbelievably, he felt a little surge of excitement, and couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Wow," he said. "Wow. My Gran is going to be really happy."

"She should be very proud of you," the Minister said. "And I'm sure your parents would be thrilled to know the man their son grew up to be."

Neville took his leave after murmuring words of thanks. He was still incredulous, and in shock that he was to be awarded the same award that Harry was. The entire the world knew that Harry had taken the Killing Curse in order to defeat Voldemort. And even if Neville never raised his wand to duel again, and if he raised Mimbulus Mimbletonia instead of fighting against darkness… maybe he had already doneenough.

I can't wait to tell Gran about the award!

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

12 July 1999

NEW MINISTER FOR MAGIC MAKES BOLD, CONTROVERSIAL MOVE

Claire Bennet

Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt made a surprising decision today that shocked his advisors, and several reinstated members of the Wizengamot. It was announced several days ago that the Enforcers were being disbanded, and the Auror Department would be reformed under the leadership of war veteran Nymphadora Lupin, age 27. Coming at the heels of that shift back to normalcy, however, the Minister for Magic declared that several former Enforcers would be allowed to continue on as Aurors.

"It's a stupid idea," says Cursor Babbling, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "I say we should get rid of all the bad seeds. No one wants anyone who served You-Know-Who to remain at the Ministry, especially in the Auror Department." This seems to be the prevailing opinion. Babbling, 49, and others, are wary of allowing former Enforcers to be granted any sort of power.

Nymphadora Lupin, who is the new Head of the Auror Department, however, fully supports the new Minister. "The fact is, without allowing some Enforcers to remain, the Auror Department would be severely handicapped by lack of numbers," she stated. "It is the Minister's opinion that this move is necessary."

Not all Enforcers will be invited to remain, however; many of them will, in fact, be tried by the Wizengamot for crimes against Muggles and wizards. The former Enforcers that will serve as Aurors are generally those who joined the Auror Department prior to 1997. "Even they will be demoted to Junior Auror level," promised Minister Shacklebolt, "and will be on probation for one year."

Junior Undersecretary Percival Weasley also claims that the former Enforcers will be closely monitored. "Of course I can't tell you what precautions will be taken," he said, when pressed for further answers. "That would be (continued on page 2)

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

15 July 1999

Ron couldn't help feeling guilty every damn time he looked at Harry. His skin was just starting to heal, and the raw pink of it looked quite painful. At least he wasn't disfigured, thought Ron.

"Your turn," said Ron gruffly. Harry was staring out the window of the Burrow, a little smile playing on his lips. Since Ron had no idea why the hell his best mate was smiling, he ignored it.

Harry's chess pieces jeered at him as he made a move without thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" Ron asked.

"A girl," Harry said immediately.

Ron's eyebrows flew up. When had Harry possibly had time to meet and start to fancy a witch? He'd been very private at Hogwarts, and the only girl at the Burrow was Ron's mother. Ginny should have been there, but apparently she didn't need anything in Britain.

"I don't believe you," Ron said irritably. He hated thinking about Ginny. Whenever he did, it made him want to hex her. The Ginny he knew and loved wouldn't have up and left just because she hadn't gotten her way. Damn her, thought Ron.

"Just because you're irritated with Ginny–"

"Irritated? Irritated?" Ron interrupted. "Bloody hacked off, is more like it," he muttered.

"Still," Harry said, pointing at him. "That doesn't mean that I can't think about a girl who isn't Ginny."

"When did you even have time to meet a girl?" Ron challenged.

"At St. Mungo's. You know — when we needed that potion for you," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders. "Moody made me work with her, and…"

"And?" Ron said, suddenly interested and feeling like grinning. The change in mood made his head spin a bit. The idea of Harry - Harry!, who was usually so focused and intense — being distracted by a witch during any sort of mission was hilarious.

"Well…" Harry turned a bright shade of red. "You know that I — we — were trapped at St. Mungo's. We were in a closet and–"

"Did you snog her?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I couldn't help myself," Harry said helplessly. "She saved your life, you know," he added. "And — I was really condescending to her, and she taught me a lesson. That was before the closet, while we were getting your potion, and I told her if she was afraid, she could stay behind. Then she basically told me to stick my wand up my–"

"Yes, I can see why this is obviously the perfect woman," Ron said dryly, recovering from his surprise at Harry's flow of words. He must've been keeping all these thoughts really pent up since he woke up, and was now at the verge of some sort of breaking point.

Harry picked up one of his pieces, ignoring the way it shouted imprecations at him. Ron figured they were done with their chess match. It was fine with him. Harry always lost, anyway, and wasn't much of a challenge.

"She asked me what I would see in the Mirror of Erised — she asked me a lot of personal questions, and I nicknamed her Nosy," he said, speaking very quickly. "I think I told her I'd see socks–"

"Socks?" Ron asked, snorting. "You are so weird."

"That's what Dumbledore told me he'd see," Harry said defensively. "But I might've told her I'd see a motorbike, I can't really remember. But she told me that she would see her home, the way it used to be. I dunno why I did it, but I kissed her, and then…"

Ron gaped at Harry. Not that it surprised him that his best mate had been attracted to a woman with an obviously unique blend of strength and vulnerability. Harry must've found her irresistible. Hermione had told him that a long time ago as her reasons for thinking that Harry and Ginny would probably fall for each other at some point. But that had been before the letter that revealed how cold and unfeeling Ginny was.

"–and then we did it again, and it was just as brilliant as the first time–"

"What?" Ron said, shocked. So lost in his thoughts, he'd completely missed part of what Harry had said. But he'd heard enough. "You shagged her?"

"Well… yeah," Harry said uncomfortably, obviously wishing that he had not told Ron this. "Damn that potion your mum gives me," he said grumpily, resting his head against the pillow. "It makes my head spin, and I keep saying stuff — I told Hermione that her hair needed a brush this morning…"

Ron was still stuck on the shagging. "You shagged her? At St. Mungo's? In a closet?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Don't make it sound so dirty," Harry said sharply. "It wasn't — it was — I just — I don't think I could've… dealt with the fact that I was a Horcrux without it. It was important, and I don't regret it."

"I wouldn't have wanted to think I was going to die a virgin either," Ron said fairly. "I wondered how you were able to do it; I should've known you'd had sex."

"I want to find her," said Harry, ignoring Ron. He laughed. "I mean — I don't know her name, what she looks like, or… anything. But I want to try anyway."

"It shouldn't be that hard," said Ron. "We can just take out an ad in the Daily Prophet… Who Was in the Closet With Harry Potter?"

Harry threw his pillow at Ron, laughing. Ron threw it back at Harry. "It's at moments like these that I really miss the twins," Ron said, feeling a wistful little pang. "I'm woefully inadequate when it comes to teasing… Closet Girl would've been prime fodder for the twins."

"I think you're doing well enough on your own," Harry said wryly.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

17 July 1999

Dear Ginny,

I do wish you would answer our letters, love, and that you would come home. You've always loved the Burrow, haven't you? We can finally go back there now; it was a little worse for wear, but your father and brothers straightened it right up. It's home again, but we're missing you desperately. You, Fred, George, and Percy. I know you're very angry with us, but we were only trying to protect you. I'm not sure if I would've been able to go on knowing that my youngest child and only daughter was in mortal danger - please forgive me for this selfishness.

You may not think that you need anything in Britain, but there are several people in Britain who need you. Ron will receive the Order of Merlin, First Class. Harry, Hermione, and Neville Longbottom are also going to get it. I know you don't know what Horcruxes are - they're objects that Voldemort used to stay alive and somewhat immortal - but everyone who destroyed one is to receive the First Class award. Neville is receiving it because he held off the Enforcers from being able to join Voldemort during the Final Battle.

There are countless reasons why you should come home: to help Neville, who really needs a friend; to watch your brother receive the highest honor wizardkind can get; to live in the Burrow again because it's your home. Please come back to us.

Love,

Mum
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