Leading a Life

He could not believe it. He still could not believe it. It had been six months and yet he woke up every morning thinking that he‘d wake up to find his friend screaming in agony, telling him that Voldemort had hurt one of his family, or worse, killed one of them.
More than once had he woken up, sweating and on the verge of screaming. More than once had Hermione had to calm him down in her own logical (and what used to be irritating) way. He knew that the war had taken the same toll on everyone, and that his generation would be fussing about their offspring’s knowledge, or lack there off.
Hermione had left three months prior to finish her seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts. Typical her. He and Harry fancied that they didn’t need to go to more classes with Slughorn. Harry had just been accepted to auror training, and was doing a damn good job at it. Kingsley had offered him a full auror job, without training, but Harry had flat-out refused.
“What good will I have in that? I won’t know anything.”
George was going through a rough patch, like everyone in his family. Fred, their brother, gone. In a whip. He was helping George build up the store again, because he, Ron, knew that George needed his help. And for once in his life he decided not to think about his own ass and drown in pity, but help George deal with his grief. George and Fred. Fred and George. Forge. Inseperable, and now devided by … Merlin knows what.

—

Kingsley was giving him a free pass. Harry didn’t like it, he would never get much out of that.
“Merlins knickers, Kingsley, do you really think that I can not learn the same things others learn. Even though you are the Minister of Magic, it does not mean that I do not want to get the best out of my auror training as possible. Sure, I will not ever have to brew the Draught of the Living Dead in my career, but I will have to know its effect in my job,” Harry said furiously after storming into Kingsley’s office.
“What do you mean Harry?” Kingsley said. “I just thought you were still going through a rough patch and might need a little time to recover. I convinced Golly you a free pass on this one assignment.” Kingsley Shacklebolt was referring to Gillard Hermings, a teacher in potions in auror training.
“I am going through a rough patch. My best friend lost his brother in the war, I knew a lot of decent and kind people who died just six months ago. Remus and Tonks were family to me. But that only means that I want to learn everything I can to make sure that a thing like this never, ever happens again.”
Going to all of those funerals had been heartbreaking for Harry. But it had also toughened him up, since he knew he had to do everything in his power to catch those remaining Death Eaters still roaming about. The most difficult one had definitely been Remus’ and Tonks. Seeing Andromeda sitting there, with little Teddy in her arms, crying her heart out had been more than he could handle. If it hadn’t been for Ginny, and her reasoning that Teddy, his godson, needed him, he was sure that he would not have made it home that night.
Home. Grimauld Place was definitely suitable as a home now. Three days after the Battle, he had returned there, summoned Kreacher and, with his help, cleansed the house of all magical beings and paintings that once belonged to the Black family.The only items he had kept, were the items he had found in Sirius’ room.
“Harry, I’m sorry. I know it was rough on you, Tonks was my friend too. And I had come to know Remus quite well lately. It was rough on all of us,” Kingsley said, looking down.
“Let me finish the assignment, Kingsley. I know I can do it,” Harry said. “The Draught of the Living Dead will probably be mentioned in the final exam, I’ve heard, so I want to know everything I can about it.”
“All right Harry. But promise me that you will come and talk to me if anything is wrong. I will do anyting to help, Harry. Anything.”

—

Hermione missed Ron and Harry. She had been away at school for three months now, finishing her seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts. She knew how important education was, and had been a bit disappointed when Ron decided not to join her.
She knew, though, how important it was for George to have support. Loosing a brother is one thing. But for George to loose Fred, something that should never have happened. As devestated as she knew George was, he was coping well. George and Angelina had bonded over their grief, and she knew that in a short time they would probably come public with their relasionship.
Hermione missed her best friends. She had Ginny, and Neville, sure. But they were not Harry and Ron. She knew that Ginny missed Harry awfully, and she was definitely noticing a bonding between Neville and Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff, who had also decided to repeat her final year.
The DA was in full bloom with Neville in charge, though it was now out in the open, and much larger than the original DA. Hermione had even seen a couple or so Slytherins at the meetings, and knew of a few who had been looking at Neville’s flyers. And who wouldn’t? The War had had that effect on everyone, they all knew someone who had died. If it was a Death Eater or an ally, you could not be sure, but everyone knew someone.
Draco Malfoy. How Hermione was angry that he dared show his face back at Hogwarts that year. She knew all about Harry’s reasons for letting him off the hook and speaking his case, but she had yet to forgive him. Sure, he did not walk the halls anymore as though he owned them. He actually looked quite sad, walking alone, never speaking up, had stopped boasting. Hermione pitied him. She was also angry at him.
“Hermione?” Neville asked cautiously.
“What?” Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. “What is it Neville?”
“The first years on the next table are getting a little scared. You’re kind of glaring at them,” Neville said, trying to skip a smile.
Hermione’s gaze immediately softened. “Oops, I was just thinking about Draco Malfoy.” Her tone hardened.
“There it is again, the angry look,” Neville said, winking at the frightened first years. “Honestly, Hermione. You should stop thinking about him. He’s not worth our thoughts. I know that he makes you angry and everything, but Merlin, he’s not our concerne.”
“Yeah, you’re right Neville.”
And that’s what she was going to do. Stop thinking about the bad things. But focus on the good things.

—

Ron knew that everything would turn out well.

—

Harry couldn’t help but think that one day, he would hopefully be the happiest man alive.

—

Hermione thought about her friends, and started smiling.