After the War

Chapter 5

**The italicized section is taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire** 

Harry awoke with a start in a comfortable four poster bed in what would have been his seventh year dorms. Faces swam in and out of focus; Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, and Sirius all hovered at the forefront of his thoughts. He shoved his glasses on and peered to his right to see Hermione and Ron sound asleep in separate beds and Neville snoring quietly on his left. His chest continued to throb painfully, but he swung his legs over the bed nonetheless and made his way as silently as he could to the door. He walked down the winding stairs, headed for the common room, knowing that he would not be able to fall back asleep. Every step sent a jolt of pain through his body and he rubbed a hand across his face, trying to rub the sleep off his skin.

The common room was ablaze with light as the sun had just begun to peek its head from behind the mountains. Sitting in a seat by the window was George, mesmerized by the light that shone against his tear stained face. Harry didn't want to seem like he was intruding, so after a moment of awkwardly standing on the bottom step staring at him, he decided to announce his presence.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked.

George's head spun around frantically and relaxed when he spotted Harry. He shook his head and turned back to the window.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked with a tentative step forward.

"Sure," George said in a hollow voice. 

Harry made his way to the window and sat opposite him across the small circular table. He knew that no words could console the loss that George was feeling right now, just like nothing could ease the pain he felt himself, so he sat silently and gazed at the pale morning rays too.

"So we just keep living, huh?" George asked, not turning away from the sky. He wasn't crying any more; he seemed out of tears to cry. Instead, a vacant expression had replaced his usual contagious grin and the mischievous light that usually danced behind his eyes had died.

"Afraid so," Harry replied, allowing himself to picture all those he had lost.

"Does it ever get easier?"

Harry sucked in a deep breath, still marveling that that was something he could do and nodded. "Eventually, yeah. It just takes some time." 

George nodded slowly, lost in his own memories to relive. Harry leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, his head in his hand, and saw scenes flash before his eyes. Remus teaching him how to do the patronus charm, Tonks helping him pack before his fifth year, Fred flying the Ford Angelina to save him when he was only twelve, Remus' pride in the little baby picture he showed off, with Teddy waving his fists at the camera. Teddy, who would never meet his parents. But, at least he would grow up surrounded by love. Harry would make sure of that.

"You know," Harry said quietly. "I never got to thank Fred... or you for that matter." 

George turned away from the window in confusion and stared at the mess of black hair until Harry looked up to face him too. 

"Thank you for saving me in the flying car before second year and just... always making me feel welcome and-- and at home."

" 'Course, Harry," George muttered. The two returned to their earlier positions and continued to silently mourn the dead together until the sky turned a dusty blue. At some point in the morning, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Percy, and Neville made their way down the staircase and joined them in silent contemplation after a few greetings.

At precisely eight o'clock, the Gryffindor fireplace turned a bright green and Mr. Weasley stepped out of the swirling flames followed by his wife, both of whom had wanted to sleep in their own bed rather than beds made for teens. All of the fireplaces were connected to the floo system and the passwords for the dormitory were removed for the summer, yet none of the Gryffindors could picture themselves sleeping anywhere else. Charlie stepped out next, then Bill and Fleur from Shell Cottage before they all headed down for breakfast. Neville accompanied them since he had refused to leave Hogwarts which his grandmother surprisingly didn't protest, but accepted his decision with pride, her chest puffing out like a peacock.