Summer at the Burrow

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Harry stared up at the wooden ceiling of his best friend's room at the Burrow. The sun was just beginning to peek through the windows of the Weasley's family home but Harry hadn't slept.

If he doesn't sleep, the nightmares don't come.

After the battle of Hogwarts, Harry, though glad he had finally rid Voldemort of this world, he couldn't help the overwhelming darkness of guilt and trauma.

The Dursley's hadn't taken Harry to the beach much during his childhood but one of the times they did begrudgingly allow him to play in the sand with his cousin, the waves had been very powerful.

That was the best way Harry could articulate his feelings. That moment when a wave has just swallowed you and it's throwing you around, not allowing you to come up for a breath. That's how Harry felt constantly.

"Oh Harry we must feed you up dear, you're getting awfully thin," Mrs Weasley smothered him as he and Ron came down for breakfast a few hours later. Harry smiled weakly. He had lost the ability to care for himself barely a week after the war ended. Mrs Weasley had always given him big portions of all her meals but now even more so. Harry only felt a tiny pang of guilt as he sneakily dropped some under the table for Crookshanks to gobble up.

Hermione had joined them too as her parents were still in Australia, she was going to reset their memories once they returned. Crookshanks, the notoriously intelligent cat had found its way to the burrow around January while the trio was off finding Horcruxes.

After breakfast, he, Ron and Hermione all went upstairs to Ron's room. Hermione and Ron did most of the talking, their hands intertwined and Harry could visibly see them holding back their affections for his comfort which he appreciated but he still felt like a third wheel.

"It'll be weird having a normal year won't it Harry," Ron addressed him, probably just to make his friend feel a little less left out.

Harry, Ron and Hermione have all taken the offer extended to all seventh years who want to repeat their final year. At first, Harry and Ron didn't want to go but Hermione talked them both into it. Ron had only taken a 'pretty please' and a kiss on the cheek to write up a letter to Hogwarts while Harry wanted to be anywhere but those haunted halls. It would be like his first year all over again. People pointing and staring at the boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But he had reasoned it would be better to be with his two best friends than sulking around the Burrow till he found his own place. He had no intention of returning to Grimmauld place. 

After lunch, in which Harry half-heartedly ate an apple he decided to take a walk around the garden by himself, out in the fresh air. Not two minutes into his stroll the bustling, ginger-haired Weasley sister came bounding up to him.

"How have you been Harry? I haven't seen you all day, so sorry about that." Her smile was too bright, her eyes too full of hope.

Over the summer Harry's affections toward Ginny had almost been extinguished. Yes, she was very pretty, and she was always there with a mug of hot chocolate for him. His overwhelming guilt and depression had overshadowed that.

"I've been better," Harry let out a dry chuckle. "Ginny, I've been thinking-"

"All that's happened has put a lot of stress on you and you really don't need a relationship right now?" She said incredibly fast. Harry stopped and studied her face. It wasn't upset or angry, it was concerned.

"Something like that," Harry's voice was small and shaky.

"It's fine," she sighed, placing both her hands on Harry's upper arms. "I'll be here for you always and if you ever want to try again, I'll be more than happy, okay?" She smiled. Harry nodded.

He found himself back inside an hour later, walking up the stairs to Ron's bedroom, looking at his feet the whole way up. He bumped into someone and the contents of a box they were holding crashed into the floor.

"Sorry about that Harry, wasn't looking where I was going." Harry's gut turned and he looked up to see the one face in the Weasley family he felt the most guilty about. George Weasley used his wand to collect the contents of the box and lift it back up into his arms. Harry could see him open his mouth to say something but he dashed past him before he could say anything.

Every time he saw George's face he felt like he was about to vomit. It is all his fault Fred had died. Fighting in his stupid battle Fred Weasley had lost his life in the halls of Hogwarts no more than a few months ago battling a Death Eater.

Harry steadied himself before turning the door handle of Ron's room to step inside.

* * *

Diagon Ally is a happy change of pace for Harry. As he bought his seventh-year schoolbooks and supplies he had gotten rid of the previous year, he looked in all the windows of the shops and cast a mournful glance at the Firebolt in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies as he remembers his own broom. He doesn't know where it ended up. Maybe he'd be able to use Ron's broom to fly around the pitch sometimes. He doubted he will play Quidditch this year, not without a good broom.

He, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all ate ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour and Harry couldn't help but smile and the cold ice cream filled his insides with warmth.

They arrive back at the Burrow too soon but Harry knows it would only get worse tomorrow as they leave for Hogwarts

* * *

"I wonder who else is going back to Hogwarts," Hermione said while resorting Harry, Ron and her school supplies again.

"Probably all the Ravenclaws," Ron flicked his wand to make a ball of paper bounce above his head while he lay on his bed. "Knowing Neville's grandma, he'll be coming back too."

"I don't think any of the Slytherins will be brave enough to show up," Hermione scoffed. Harry propped himself up on his elbows upon hearing this.

"You know, we never got a thank you from Goyle and Malfoy," Harry ran a hand through his dark hair.

"You expect one from Malfoy?" Ron sniggered. "The ungrateful git would rather eat a bucket of Flobberworms before he tarnishes his pride."

"He's got a point," Hermione looked at Harry worriedly. "But anyway, it will be nice to be back at Hogwarts without any looming threat over Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. He still didn't want to go back. He knew what would happen when he walks those halls, when he sleeps in his four-poster bed. The memories will flood back stronger and faster than they already have been. The nightmares will seep into his conscious mind.

For the first time in the last eight years of Harry's life, he really didn't want to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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