Chapter 17
Harry, Ron and Bill spent the rest of the night in a whiskey-fuelled haze. Hermione had tried to confiscate their liquor at some point but took one glance at their faces before deciding to join them.
“Never again,” Hermione said to Harry. “Can you promise me that?”
Harry sighed. “You know I can’t,” he said honestly.
Everyone fell asleep at some point, except for Harry. At some point, he found himself at the Burrow.
Teddy was in Ginny’s arms on the couch. She blinked sleep from her eyes as the floo chimed. “You look like shit.”
“Yeah,” he said. He scooped Teddy from Ginny’s arms.
“And you smell like whiskey,” Ginny commented helpfully.
Harry nodded. Teddy stirred in his arms and his hair turned black as he smushed his face further into Harry’s chest. Harry sighed. “I’m doing it for you, Ted,” he whispered quietly.
Ginny smiled softly. “You sleeping tonight?” she asked.
“No,” Harry said.
“Coffee, then,” Ginny said, stretching as she stood up and made her way over to the kitchen. “Where are my brothers, then?”
“Passed out in my kitchen,” Harry answered as he followed her.
Ginny reached up to the cupboard to get some mugs. “Sounds like fun. Invite me to the party next time.”
“I killed someone tonight, Gin,” Harry said after a moment.
Ginny paused. After a moment, she picked up the mugs and resumed making the coffee. “Did they deserve it?” she asked.
“Yes… no. I don’t know,” Harry said quietly.
Ginny nodded thoughtfully and passed him his cup. “I don’t think the war’s over. I’m not sure it ever will be – not for us. All we can do is make sure that its over for them,” she said softly, nodding at the baby in his arms.
Harry nodded. He was beginning to think she was right.
Ginny looked at him, curiously. “Did it feel good?”
“No,” Harry said immediately. “It made me feel sick.”
“That’s alright, then,” Ginny said firmly. “You’re still you. The moment it feels good, you come to me, okay?”
“I don’t want to do it again,” Harry said.
Ginny scoffed. “You’re an Auror, Harry. You will have to kill again. Probably many times. It will break you. And probably, one day it will start to feel good. That’s when you come to me, and we’ll run away to a tropical island. Take Teddy. Live as muggles or something,” she said this all as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry smiled tiredly. “That sounds wonderful.”
A few hours later, Harry and Ginny had played seven games of gobstones, and Harry was starting to feel a bit better - minus the incredible hangover that was coming on.
“Oh, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley greeted him with surprise as she walked into the kitchen, Mr. Weasley and George on her heels. “Staying for breakfast?”
“Sure,” Harry said, moving to help her with the porridge.
An owl tapped on the window. Ginny opened it for him. “Oh look! My Hogwarts’ letter. And the Prophet,” she said, looking at Harry carefully after glancing at the front page. Mercifully she didn’t say anything and allowed herself up with Mrs. Weasley’s exclamations of “It’s about time!” and “We can get your books firsthand this year.”
Mr. Weasley read the paper interestedly. “Greyback’s dead,” he told them. “Apparently he killed himself after writing out a full confession.”
“Really?” Mrs. Weasley asked. “I thought Kingsley was worried he’d walk free. Why on earth would he kill himself?”
“The interrogation process can be pretty rough, mum.” Ginny came to the rescue. “Maybe he started to feel guilty.”
“Maybe,” George agreed, glancing critically at Harry’s weary face.
Ginny gasped as she emptied her envelope. “Quidditch captain!” she said, pleased.
George scoffed. “That’s hardly a surprise, Gin.”
“You’re the best player at Hogwarts,” Harry added.
“Well, it’s still exciting,” said Mrs. Weasley, sweeping Ginny into a big hug. “I’m proud of you darling.”
The floo chimed, and out stepped Bill, Hermione and Ron, the latter of which still wearing his clothes from last night. There was a slight splattering of blood on his collar.
“Told you he’d be here,” Hermione said to her boyfriend. “Now stop worrying and go back and have a shower.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “But mum’s made porridge!” he protested.
“Ron,” Harry said quickly, and grabbed him by the elbow, dragging him away from the others. “Blood on your collar. Go and get changed.”
He looked down at his shirt. “Yuck. Okay, fine. But this is your fault. You can’t just disappear on us after what we did last night.”
“You’re right,” Harry said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight and I couldn’t sleep.”
Ron clapped him on the back. “Well, you’re alive. That’s all that matters. Have you read the paper?”
“Not yet. Just saw the headline. At least they’re not saying it was murder. How he was supposed to do that to himself without a wand, though…” Harry muttered.
“It pays to have friends in high places, mate,” he said. He called out to the kitchen, “Back in mo’. Ask ‘Mione what she got in the mail!”
“Head Girl?” Ginny asked with a grin.
Hermione blushed. “Yes. I can’t say it was a surprise, but it is an honour. Did you get Quidditch?”
“Of course,” she responded. “I’m the best player at Hogwarts.”
Everyone laughed and as Harry gave Teddy his bottle with his family bickering over breakfast, he could almost forget what he’d done.
George pulled him aside after they’d eaten. “I want in,” he said.
“Sorry?” Harry asked.
“You killed Greyback. Ginny’s face gave it away. And the blood on Ron’s shirt. I want in. For Fred,” he said plainly.
Harry groaned, and rubbed a hand over his face. “Look, it was just a one-time thing, alright? Kingsley asked me to do it. I’m not on some vigilante mission to kill all Death Eaters,” he whispered furiously.
“Why not?” George asked. “You have the power. Magical and political. You could get away with anything you wanted.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to get away with anything,” Harry said. “I just want to live a fucking normal life.”
“Fuck right off, Harry Potter. You cannot and will not have a normal life. You’re the fucking boy-who-lived. The Saviour. It’s not fair and it’s not right, but you have a responsibility to fix this world before there’s another fucking war,” George said lowly.
“There’ll always be another fucking war!” Harry said, fighting to keep his voice low. “There’s nothing I can do, anyway. Most of the Death Eaters are in Azkaban already, and the others are being hunted down by the aurors. What do you want me to do?”
George actually shoved him then. “I want you to get your head out of your arse!” he shouted, forgetting the fact that their conversation was meant to be quiet. He lowered his voice quickly. “I’m not talking about Death Eaters. You know what I’m talking about. The ministry’s corrupt, Azkaban is easy to break out of, and Voldemort’s supporters are still out there. You say the Old Ways aren’t necessarily dark, fine. But I don’t want Teddy to have to go through what we did. Fleur and Bill are trying for a baby. There’s no way I’m letting those kids fight in a war. You’re in a position to make real change, Harry. So, do it. Change the fucking world. Or there might not be a world left.”
He stormed off up the stairs. Harry could hear his door on the top level slam.
“What was that?” Ginny asked mildly.
Harry frowned. “I’m not sure.”