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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 85: The Hurricane's Eye
August 11
Over a month passed in which Harry experienced nothing but a fragile, deceptive peace and tranquility. The summer sun beat down upon the Burrow's enchanted gardens, where the ghoul in the attic was quieter than usual, and the gnomes seemed almost placid. Yet, the air itself felt thick with waiting.
Voldemort seemed to have completely vanished from the face of the earth, and despite Severus Snape's diligent efforts, he had not been able to catch so much as a whisper of his presence or learn of his whereabouts. In fact, even the other anxious, plotting members of the Inner Circle were unsure whether their Lord was alive or dead, a palpable uncertainty that bred paranoia and silent feuds among them.
Only the grim members of the Lestrange House and the cowardly Wormtail seemed to know something about it, but just like the Dark Lord, they were nowhere to be seen, which had left the entire Death Eaters organization in disarray and confusion.
All raids had stopped, and their treacherous attempts to covertly control the levers of the Ministry of Magic had been relaxed as well… as if the poisonous tide had suddenly receded, leaving an unnerving calm upon the shore.
Everything appeared to return to how it was during all those long, quiet years when the Dark Lord was presumed dead, a memory of a threat nearly forgotten.
But this sudden state of calmness did nothing to appease Harry, as he felt with every fiber of his being that he was currently trapped in the false serenity of a hurricane's eye, waiting for the surrounding walls of destruction to finally arrive and destroy everything.
He spent this time preparing to the best of his ability… his movements were precise and calculated, fortifying his Ivory Tower with layered enchantments and protective wards, hoping that it could serve as a last bastion of defense, a final sanctuary, if things took a turn for the worse.
When he was not busy, he would spend most of his free time with Ginny.
Their relationship had deepened greatly after Harry finally gathered the courage to share everything about himself with her.
Ginny accepted him for who he was, and her unwavering love had become a beacon of light that dispersed some of the darkness in his soul.
He suddenly heard a firm, familiar knock on the door.
"Mate, Hermione is here!" Ron sounded genuinely happy. He had long been waiting for her visit, counting down the days with poorly concealed eagerness.
"Alright. I'm coming." Harry stepped away from the window and his distressing thoughts, adjusted his robes, and went downstairs, his footsteps soft on the creaking stairs.
He found Hermione having an animated conversation in the cluttered living room with Ginny and Ron, while Molly bustled about, preparing some steaming tea and a plate of delicate pastries that filled the air with a sweet, buttery scent.
"Harry!" The moment she saw him, Hermione stood up and ran to give him a warm hug. "I missed you," she said softly into his ear, her voice filled with emotion.
"I missed you, too, Hermione." Harry hoped he had sounded sincere, wrapping his arms around her briefly.
For him, it was a strange thing, being this close to someone who used to be as close as a sister, but now felt distant and strange to him.
He knew Hermione, yes. He had made sure to keep all his memories of her, as well as his other close friends, locked in a sacred mental vault. He had treasured and guarded those memories for over thirty thousand years, doing so with all his might and determination, fearing their loss above all else.
However… unlike memories, feelings could not be maintained or guarded. Over time, they would fade away and dissipate into nothingness.
He knew Hermione Granger, and he remembered how close they had once been, and on some intellectual level, he still cared deeply for her and would do anything to protect her from harm.
But he knew with a sad certainty that their friendship would need to be rebuilt patiently from the ground up, just as he had been slowly and carefully doing with Ron.
Perhaps it had been easier for him to get closer to Ginny because they were not all that close in the distant past, so it was like building a completely new relationship on fresh, uncharted soil.
While with Ron and Hermione, there were certain expectations on his behaviour that he was afraid of not meeting.
"Harry? Are you really okay?" As he expected, perceptive Hermione had already picked up on the subtle changes in his demeanour. In fact, she had already done so during their brief, strained time at Hogwarts after the battle at the Ministry. "You barely answer my letters with more than a few words and never send any on your own."
"I'm fine, Hermione. It's just… it's a bit complicated to explain," Harry responded, offering a weary smile.
Hermione glanced up for a moment, her keen eyes resting on V, who sat still and silent upon the mantelpiece. "Is your hat not talking anymore? He was always so… opinionated."
"He talks," Harry said simply, although it was true that V had been talking less as of late, which was just one more thing that burdened his mind.
Hermione went back to the table, settling into her chair. "I heard from Ron about what happened. He said that your house was attacked by D—"
"Hermione, dear," Molly interrupted her gently but firmly before placing a delicate cup of tea in front of her. "There is no need to talk about such grim matters at the table. It is all behind us now. No one was hurt, and the house is completely secure now, thanks to Mister Dumbledore's help." Her voice carried the finality of a mother decreeing an end to an unpleasant topic.
"Yes, ehm… I saw the wards. Ron had to bring me inside while holding my hand. He said that otherwise, I would be in danger of being harmed by those black statues," Hermione explained, taking a polite sip of her tea.
"He didn't need to hold your hand, though," Ginny pointed out with a mischievous glint in her eye. "There is an array that detects your intent. As long as you are close by to one of us and you have no ill intentions towards our family, the wards will let you pass peacefully."
Hermione gave Ron a long, suspicious glance, one eyebrow arched.
"I-I thought we had to hold hands! The instructions were… vague!" Ron defended himself, while covering the blush creeping up his neck and face with a large hand.
"I would love to take a closer look at those golems, though," Hermione continued, her curiosity instantly piqued. "Were they really made by the Headmaster? What are they made of? How do they move? What kind of ancient runes are engraved on them? Do you have a book on golemmancy that I can borrow?" Hermione asked, leaning forward, her questions tumbling out in a familiar cascade.
Ginny and Harry exchanged a brief, knowing look, feeling with mutual resignation that a barrage of questions was coming their way, by courtesy of their brilliantly bushy-haired friend.
<><><><><><><>
Some time later, as the afternoon light turned into a golden hue, the rest of the Weasley family began to arrive at the home.
Not just the twins, with their pockets humming with new prototypes they were selling at their shop, and their father Arthur, happily examining a mundane battery, but also their older brothers: Charlie, with his sun-leathered skin and smell of dragon, and Bill, his fang earring glinting and scars telling silent tales, while Percy was the only one who was sadly absent.
The reason for this large family reunion was none other than to celebrate Ginny's fifteenth birthday.
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