#auror!ron

[toorumlk]

running late

[daddiesdrarryy]

Ron: Hey, what are you all doing here?

Draco: Well, it’s a ball to raise money for the Aurors, isn’t it? I’ve always had a soft spot for men in uniform. One in particular

Blaise: And I’ve always had a hard spot. You look good tonight, Weasley

Ron, blushing: …whatever

[wizardemotions]

the question came to mind of "in your ship, how might the larger/stronger party pick up or carry the smaller one?" and these were the answers i came to

[babypizzaface]

auror things.

Ron: I promised Hermione we wouldn't do anything stupid!

Harry: Why would you lie to your wife like that?

[alwayshinny]

Hinny 💍 - The One With No Voldy and Where Everyone Lives

AU, where Harry happens to hear a conversation between his grandfather, Fleamont Potter, and his father, James. Fleamont, who has been looking weaker by the day, tells his son he knows his and Euphemia's time is coming to an end, and his only regret is not being able to witness Harry grow up and get married. This bothers Harry, and while on a playdate at the Burrow, he confides in Ginny, who responds as if it were the most obvious solution: "Then let's get married."

They persuade their families to arrange a gathering, and they con the Weasley brothers into decorating the backyard. Ron stands by Harry's side as his best man, while Luna is Ginny's bridesmaid. All it took was one look from Harry and Ginny to convince Sirius to turn into Padfoot to be their ring bearer/flower girl; his outfit consisted of a bowtie and a tutu (James, Remus, Gideon, and Fabian nearly fell off their chairs laughing so hard).

They made each other's wedding rings. Harry's ring was made from the metal from his grandma's old Auror badge (which Euphemia gave to her willingly) and the very first snitch he caught for the first time and gifted to her. Ginny convinced Fabian and Gideon to transform into a ring. Ginny's ring was made of her favorite green bubble gum (that was suspiciously similar to Harry's eye color) and twigs of their broomsticks as the band, which Harry convinced his dad and Sirius to smooth out and place an unbreakable charm on with an auto-replenishing charm on the bubble gum.

They both dressed themselves for the occasion, and Harry asked his mom and godmother Marlene to help him pick flowers for Ginny's bouquet. He smelled each one and was very picky persistent it had to smell like Ginny's hair. It took Harry HOURS until he was finally satisfied with the arrangement. Molly volunteered to make their wedding cake, and a few days before the wedding, Ginny told her dad in a very grown-up tone to wear a bowtie because he was walking her down the aisle on Sunday. Hinny asked Hagrid to marry them, and when it was time to kiss the bride, Harry was just about to protest/lecture Hagrid about how he should have asked Ginny for her consent instead of giving him permission "to kiss the bride" (the boy was Lily Potter's son and a true feminist at heart), when Ginny pulled Harry down and gave Harry a big kiss on the lips. The kid was frozen for a solid minute and then couldn't stop smiling as he followed his 'wife' around all day.

They made Fleamont and Euphemia's wishes come true.

Then, 16 years later, they got married again.

[hptrash-lookaway]

Harry deciding against being an auror and Ron being sad that they aren’t gonna do it together, so Harry makes fake case files of all their previous adventures as well as fake auror badges for all three of them that say “Golden Trio” somewhere on them, and he’s like “don’t consider this as us not doing it together, consider it as me and Hermione are already retired”

[gryfferin-gaybies]

Healing

(So I read a fic where Harry was the mole and Draco had to heal him after he was discovered and it inspired this. If I could remember what the fic was called I'd tag it but I can't find it for the life of me.)

"Wh-where's Harry," Draco croaked. It was the first thing out of his mouth when he woke up.

"He's busy," Ginny responded vaguely. She and Hermione took turns watching over the makeshift infirmary they'd set up for Draco in their hideout while Ron and Harry and a team of Aurors were out finishing the mission. Ginny had accepted the job reluctantly after being assured repeatedly that Draco wouldn't be waking up any time soon so Hermione could take her shift sleeping.

While she appreciated all that he'd done with this particular mission— going undercover to gain the trust of the criminals in order to find out more about their plans and report back to the Aurors before he was eventually found out and tortured—she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to forgive him for what he stole from her. So she avoided his eyes and conversation as much as she could.

Harry burst in, shoving aside the tarp they'd hung up to block off the infirmary. "I'm here," he said, gaze not even bothering to fall on Ginny as he quickly strode past her. He was covered in dirt and blood, his clothes torn. "I'm here, Draco. I'm right here."

"Harry," Draco sighed.

Harry was at his side in an instant, holding Draco's outstretched hands and leaning in to rest their foreheads together. "I'm here," he whispered again, eyes closed as they embraced each other.

Ginny looked away in time to see Ron pass through the tarp. Her big brother took one look at the scene in front of him and gave Ginny a pitying smile that told her he understood she was hurting and that everything—including herself again eventually—would be fine.

She looked back at them—Harry making sure Draco was comfortable and Draco trying to make sure Harry wasn't hurt from the mission—and for the first time since she and Harry broke up, she realized that they really do make a cute couple.

[thusspoketrish]

LCDrarry 2024 FIC REVEAL!!!!!

YAY!!! I had an absolute blast writing this story! Thank you to everyone who took time to read, leave kudos, and comment on it—your support means the world to me! A huge shout out to the @lcdrarry Mods for their kindness and for hosting another brilliant year! It takes a village to craft a story with love, and wow, did my village deliver! I’m endlessly grateful for the patience, love, and support from my amazing alpha, betas, and reader throughout this experience! I want to give a special thanks to my BFF @dewitty1 for being the best alpha in the entire world. Seriously, this fic wouldn't exist without their support, brilliance, and creativity in helping me tell Draco's wild story of reluctant fatherhood!

This is my Three Men & a Baby meets Taken (1) inspired story, featuring: BAMF!Draco who is also an adorably anxious bean, a Harry bursting with love and sass, and our favorite Ron, who’s both capable and emotionally intelligent! Together, they form an unbeatable BROMANCE! 

Expect a tender Drarry love story with heartfelt confessions, hilarious baby shenanigans, protective Draco moments, and an Auror case that’s totally out of this world! Join our dear boys in an action-packed, heartwarming kid-fic (no one asked for) you never knew you needed!!!

This has been a true labour of love, and I'm so grateful for the experience! I hope this story has brought (and will continue to bring) you all as much joy in reading it as it has brought me in writing it! Thank you again and here's to many more stories and adventures ahead!!!

READ IT ON AO3 HERE.

A Ferret, a ScarHead, a Weasel, and a Baby

Prompt: "Three Men and a Baby", 1987, Leonard Nimoy & "Taken", 2008, Pierre Morel Author: trishjames Word Count: 91,420 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Epic Fight Scene(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Hand-to-Hand Combat, Blood, Muggle Weapons, References to Past Child Abuse, Abduction, Injuries

Summary: They say becoming a parent is an unparalleled, priceless joy. Draco Malfoy finds himself putting that theory to the test when the star witness in his dangerous illegal potions case entrusts him with a powerful wish: protect her newborn baby at all costs. Now, it's up to Draco to fulfill that wish despite the looming threat of criminals hunting for the child. To think, just the day before, he was fretting over his inappropriate feelings for his annoying, bespectacled git of a housemate—not the mechanics of changing nappies!

Thank Merlin it takes a village to raise a sack of flour, ah, child.

[greenerteacups]

he dos whatever Ron wants to do to hang out with him - bestie, so TRUE!!!

The great joke of Harry Potter is that Ron is known for being Harry's sidekick when the reality of the situation is eleven-year-old Harry Potter made one (1) friend and immediately decided to spend the rest of his life with him. And then he did.

[wizarddogs]

(During an auror mission gone wrong)

Hermione: Look, we’re no strangers to situations like this. Harry: You know the rules and so do I. Hermione: Wait… Dean: A full commitment's what I'm thinking of. Ron: You wouldn't get this from any other guy. Hermione: Are you kidding me right now? Ron: Never gonna give you up! Dean: Never gonna let you down! Seamus: Never gonna run around and desert you! Draco: Never gonna make you cry! Harry: Never gonna say goodbye! Ron: Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you! Hermione: … Hermione: So, I officially hate all of you.

[daddiesdrarryy]

Draco: Potter, you’re here…again, at St Mungo’s. Why?

Harry: Oh, er, I’m injured, you see

Draco: You’re a Professor

Harry: Yes

Draco: We do have the hospital wing at Hogwarts

Harry: Yes…but Poppy is sick today

Draco: I just talked to her this morning

Harry: …okay, the injury is too severe and she told me to come see you

Draco: You got a scratch on your hand, you can heal it yourself

Harry: I forgot my wand

Draco: It’s in your hand

Harry: …

Auror Ron: He just wants to see you, for Merlin’s sake! Now can someone heal my bloody leg?!

Harry: Oh, yeah, right! Heal him first!

[superfandomcorp]

Ron: Promise you won't be mad.

Hermione: what happened?

Harry: who are you, pretty lady?

Hermione: I'm going to kill them both!!

Ron: You always get angry before we can explain.

[albondiguilla007]

Wanted to share this Golden trio fluff:

Who was Harry Potter anyways? The Chosen One? The Boy-who-lived? The Saviour and Golden Boy of the Wizarding World?

Did the press actually got it right when they wrote pieces about him? Could they know what kind of person he was by amounting together the major events on his life?

Could he?

Did Hermione and Ron knew who his best friend was? During those nights filled with dread when the dead became living and the living bled to death, did they know?

When they took his hand and slept right there besides him, whispering sweet nothings until he fell asleep again—could they describe who he was with the same certainty one would talk about the lush and green hills in Scotland?

Mione watched him with that look of hers; one of unwavering faith. Her eyes softening as she lulled him to sleep.

The moonlight filtered through the tiny gap between the curtains back in his room in Grimmauld Place, illuminating the seven freckles scattered in her nose and cheeks. A hundred years could pass and he’d still be able to trace those freckles to memory, like one traces the starts and constellations in the nightsky. She’d stay there for hours, stroking his hair and drawing silly patterns in his skin. Like a mother would. Soft fingertips and soothing lullabies.

With the tenderness of a mother, the devotion of a lover and the undying loyalty of a friend.

In those moments he could be sure of one thing: Hermione Granger knew exactly who Harry Potter was: His best friend, the person looking back at her with grief and open adoration.

And Ron. Ron held him while Mione grounded him and brought him back to Earth. Soft breath tickling his neck. He was too tall for the bed, so most times his feet stayed dangling from the edge.

Ron was home, Ron was family.

Ron was the first person to ever say I love you, chubby cheeks bouncing as he smiled. Honest in his love like only kids are.

There wasn’t much of that Ron in the 6’2 ft tall man that layed besides him. Except maybe his eyes. They were blue, blueblueblue, round and big and completely sincere. Every emotion Ron felt reflecting back on them.

Violent but oh so soft. Harry had never seen the ocean, but he reckoned that’s how it looked like.

His presence was enough to make the world stop spinning, so he stayed with them: A hand in his arm or a leg tangled between Mione’s.

Always touching.

His silence saying more than a million words could.

I’m not going anywhere Harry. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever again.

But so they knew? Did they even care?

You’re every Harry love, the ones you like and the ones you don’t

Harry Potter was the guy that passed the Auror official test in record time. The one that spent a year hiding the clues of his slow descent into insanity under red leather robes and tightly wrapped bandages.

Harry Potter was the man who stayed alone in New Year’s Eve changing napies and falling asleep besides his godson as he burnt in fever.

It was the five year old boy that one day came home from school with a carefully written card he’d dedicated to his aunt on Mother’s Day.

It was the boy who loved to fly. That felt more free in the air than any place on Earth. The one that enjoyed the breeze against his hair and the feeling of wood under his fingers.

It was the man that spent half a year in muggle parties with his best friend’s sister fucking his way through London. High with the thrill of anonymity and pissed out of his mind.

The man more scared of his own shadows than he was of any threat out there.

The one that stood in front of Voldemort when he was 17 and killed him like he was born to do so.

Harry Potter was the man scared of dark and cramped spaces. The man that fell apart in his best friends’ arms and sobbed for hours like he couldn’t do with anyone else.

It was the little boy who looked just like his father, that had his mother’s eyes.

It was the man who loved with every fiber of his being, that loved and loved like it was a race. That burned and consumed and desperately wanted to be loved back. It was the man that remembered Molly’s favorite way of taking her tea, that visited Goerge on the weekends at the shop—the one that discussed muggle phones with Arthur. It was the man Andy could always remember his daughter with.

Harry Potter was the boy that walked to his death on a cool May evening because he loved. Because he pictured a future where his friends could laugh and breath freely again, even if he wasn’t a part of it.

And so Hermione stroked his hair, and Ron hid his face in the crook of his neck, and so they’d remind him.

I love all of them Harry, each and one of them

You’ve carried enough burdens mate, leave some of them to us alright? We’ll carry them too

Harry Potter was Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley’s best friend. And sometimes, that was enough.

[johnmchacker]

Epaulette Mate, Chapter 1 (of 5)

At last, something that might move this old thing. I love writing Ron, and I used to play a bit of chess. One day in the shower, this happened.

Summary: Ron Weasley likes his job as an Auror. They catch Dark Wizards and they’re, like, the elite! Everybody knows what you’re capable of when you’re an Auror, and besides, the pay’s tip-top. But when Ron and Harry are assigned as a bodyguard to a criminal family from Brazil, he learns the hard way that being an Auror sometimes means doing things you don’t like. And that not all cases wrap up satisfyingly. An episode from Ron’s and Harry’s Auror careers.

[hinnyfied]

Ice Cream Solves (Most) Things

For @thethreebroomsticksfic Weasley Week.

Prompt: Ron

Moodboard by the wonderful @lanaturnergetup, who will be continuing this story later this week....👀

Ron is having one of those days – those irritatingly frequent days where instead of tracking evil wizards, he’s stuck at his desk filling out sodding paperwork. It was a thrill at first – joining the Aurors, rebuilding the department, hunting down straggling Death Eaters – but those thrills feel more distant by the day.

With a hefty sigh, Ron pulls the next file off the stack and flips it open. It’s the report for Edith Wobbleton of Tutbury – an elderly witch who called in about dark curses on her property, “surely the work of wizards most evil.”

It had, in fact, been nothing more than a particularly mischievous poltergeist – one that’s now costing Ron at least an hour of his time.

Just as he’s getting to the description of the offending poltergeist, Harry appears at his desk with a smirk and a glint in his eyes.

“Can I tear you away from that?” he asks.

“God, yes.” Ron slams the folder shut and shoves it unceremoniously into a drawer.

“Good. Robards wants me on surveillance for a dangerous suspect in the Amortentia case. I insisted on bringing back up.”

“Really? Who’s the suspect?”

Suspense takes hold of Ron. Fake Amortentia has been plaguing the black market for months – causing the drinker to fall seriously ill (or worse), rather than in love. It has hospitalised at least ten people so far.

“Fiona Fortescue.” Harry’s mouth twitches with suppressed laughter.

Ron rolls his eyes. Git.

“You’re having me on.”

“I am not, I swear.”

“Robards wants you to surveil an ice cream shop owner – a very nice, cheerful ice cream shop owner.”

“Yep.”

“One who brings ice creams to sick kids at St. Mungo’s every Tuesday.”

“That’s the one.”

“Because he thinks she’s involved in peddling cursed potions.”

“That about sums it up, yeah.”

Ron glances back at his mountain of paperwork. He should be responsible, stay and finish the reports, make sure he doesn’t fall behind, and yet…

“Fuck it. Let’s go get ice cream.”

“Excellent,” Harry says with a wide grin.

[nettedtangible]

Epilogue, HP Microfic, 2554 words.

We all hate the epilogue, so I re-wrote it. Enjoy.

Harry stood in the kitchen of one of his favourite places in the world, and noted that, for the first time he could remember, the Burrow was silent. He placed his hands on the benchtop and gazed out the window at the small and sombre band of people gathered in the overgrown yard.

It had been four days since the battle of Hogwarts; days which had felt to be some of the longest of Harry’s life, bar perhaps, some of his more arduous stints at Privet Drive. He hung his head, diverting his eyes from the scene in front of him. Behind him he heard a noise, and turning, saw Ginny emerge from the staircase, her eyes red, though her face was set firm. He had seen that fiery resolve in her face many times before and reached out for her hand. She took it and, with a gesture of her head, indicated that it was time for them to join the others.

They walked through the backdoor and into the garden, the sky pearly grey above them to mark the occasion. The Weasleys were gathered around a freshly dug hole in the ground, beside which stood a rough-hewn coffin. Harry stole himself as he looked at it and turned his head, taking in those around him.

Mr and Mrs Weasley stood at the head of the grave, Mrs Weasley sobbing into Mr Weasley’s shoulder, whose face was set into a mask of stony grief. To their right stood Andromeda Tonks, stroking the face of the blue haired baby she carried in her arms. Harry closed his eyes, remembering heavily Lupin and Tonks’ funeral of the previous day. It had been a small affair, and a devastating setting for Harry to meet his godson, feeling as he had held him for the first time, an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the fate of his parents.

Standing near Andromeda were Bill and Fleur, Fleur resting against Bill’s chest, the picture of regal sadness. Charlie stood beside them, one arm slung around Percy's shoulders, eyes downcast. Near the foot of the grave stood George, flanked by Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan. Harry thought that he had never seen a person look more lost. George was staring into the grave intently, as if filled with longing to join his twin, as he had in all other adventures. Angelina was clutching his arm and sniffing with repressed sobs, while Lee simply looked shocked, as though expecting Fred to leap from behind a bush at any moment.

Next to Harry stood Ron and Hermione, locked in a tight embrace. Tears were dripping off the end of Ron’s long nose as he buried his head in Hermione’s bushy hair, her own face wet from crying. Slightly off to the side sat Hagrid, who clutched a bottle of firewiskey in one hand and an overlarge plaid handkerchief in the other.

Nobody present wore dress robes or had followed in the Muggle tradition of wearing black, their grief was worn on their faces and banished all need for ceremony.

 Harry exchanged a glace with Ron, and found he had no words of comfort to offer. Gripping tighter to Ginny’s hand, he turned to Mr Weasley. A sense of quiet expectation settled over the crowd.

Mr Weasley stepped forward, disengaging gently from a still shaking Molly, and raised his wand. Softly, the coffin was lifted from the ground and slowly lowered into the open grave. Harry heard it land with a soft thud, the finality of which shook him to his core. George turned his face, looking away from the grave for the first time.

‘My son,’ began Mr Weasley, voice clear, though slightly unsteady, ‘was a man unlike any other,’ he gave George a small look and continued, ‘save for his partner in crime and in life.’  A small gasp of mirth seemed to be wrenched from the mourners, as George began to cry in earnest.

‘I will never be able to understand why it was that he was taken from us, as so many were, by this terrible war,’ continued Mr Weasley, ‘but I do know, that he died because he fought. That he was brave, and rash, and would never, for one second, have let the fight go on without him.’ Some more tortured chuckles were released from the crowd.

‘Fred, I will love you until the day I die, as will everyone here. But I know that you walk beside us, possibly tying our shoelaces together when we’re not looking…’ another gasping laugh.

‘Fred died fighting for what was right, and to protect the people he loved, and each of us must honour him by going forth and living our lives with love in our hearts and laughter in our days.’

Harry’s face felt hot and tears prickled his eyes as a smile broke through the pain. Mr Weasley stepped back from the grave and raised his wand, ready to fill the grave with the adjacent pile of dirt when suddenly, a strange thumping noise echoed over the garden.

‘Arthur-,’ said Mrs Weasley, sharply, grasping Mr Weasley’s arm and staring into the grave, ‘listen…’ The thumping sound was growing louder and more pronounced, and every onlooker shuffled forward to peer into the grave, looking at the coffin intently.

With a blast the sound of a canon, the coffin burst open, and explosions suddenly filled the air. For a mad second, Harry thought that Fred had come charging out, but soon realised that hundreds of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes fireworks were pouring out of the coffin, emitting loud cracks and bangs and expanding out of the grave. Dragons and pinwheels rocketed up into the overcast sky, and letters forming the words “saint like” danced around their heads. Harry whipped his head to look at George, who was grinning widely through a sheen of tears. He looked around at his family, who, like Harry, had turned to him, and shrugged,

‘We had a pact,’ he said simply, looking sheepish and heartbroken all at once. A laugh rang out among the crowd, loud and shrill. Harry looked around to discover that, unexpectedly, it was emanating from Mrs Weasley. She was laughing so hard that her body shook, and she fell to her knees, stroking the grass at the very head of the Grave, peering into the coffin lovingly, her laughs mingled with sobs.

At this, though they had been momentarily frozen in surprise, the rest of the party began to laugh too, haltingly at first, through with increased fervour. Ron was smiling despite himself and running his hands over his disbelieving face. Lee and Angelina were beaming as they watched rockets and hippogriffs soar above them. Teddy was staring at the fireworks completely enrapt, and Bill and Charlie were smirking, exchanging knowing looks at their brothers’ antics.

Harry felt a relaxing of the tightness in his chest as he admired the colours and sparks of the superb firework display and knew that Fred wanted them to celebrate him, not mourn. He laughed as one of the fireworks performed a particularly rude gesture, which, again unexpectedly, made Molly redouble with laughter.

The group laughed and cried and traded stories about Fred as the dusk turned the sky to a faint pink and the fireworks flew all around them and off into gathering night.

Harry followed the others as they trouped inside, the Burrow feeling warmer now than it had all day. Mr Weasley lit a fire with his wand and promptly began distributing firewiskey, while Mrs Weasley busied herself in the kitchen, wiping her eyes on her apron as she went. Hagrid, having brought up the rear and squeezed himself arduously through the door, now sat on the hearth, swigging liberally at his flagon and telling Angelina about a time that he had discovered Fred and George in the Forbidden Forest during one of his visits to Aragog.

‘Never seen a more meddlin’ pair ‘an these two I reckon!” he said, his words slurred slightly. ‘’cept you lot.’ he added, gesturing the flagon accusingly at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who all exchanged sheepish smiles.

Mrs Weasley brought out copious amounts of food and they passed the evening feasting on delicious mince pies and treacle tart as they swapped increasingly rude stories about Fred and George’s famous wrongdoings, some of which took Mr and Mrs Weasley so aback they managed to half-heartedly chide George.

As the night progressed, the conversation turned to the events which had transpired following the downfall of Voldemort. The entire ministry was in disarray according to Mr Weasley.

Harry found himself in the kitchen, leaning against the sink and asking about the state of affairs at Hogwarts when Kingsley Shacklebolt strode through the door.

‘Arthur,’ he said solemnly, shaking Mr Weasley’s hand ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for the funeral, I came as soon as I could, the Ministry’s in absolute chaos.’

‘Of course,’ said Mr Weasley, ‘thank you for coming.’

‘Fred was a good man,’ said Kinglsey gravely, ‘Harry,’ he nodded, shaking Harry’s hand also, ‘how are you?’

‘I’m alright,’ replied Harry, ‘How is everything? Is the Ministry going to be okay?’

‘Oh yes, it’ll be fine,’ said Kingsley, shaking his head, ‘The Death Eaters did a number on it but we’ll have it put right soon enough. In fact,’ he added, ‘we could use your help.’ Harry thought about it, considered everything that the Ministry had put him through and a not dissimilar conversation he had had with Scrimgeour a year prior. Kingsley, sensing his apprehension, shrugged,

‘You don’t have to of course, Merlin knows you’ve done enough, we won’t ask you to die for us again.’ he said with a wry smile. Harry smiled back,

‘Yeah, I’ll help,’ said Harry, ‘It’s not like I can go back to school.’ They had received word the previous day that all seventh years who had fought in the battle of Hogwarts would receive an automatic graduation. Hermione was distinctly forlorn at the news and had already written to Professor McGonagall asking to return in September to complete her N.E.W.T.s. Harry smiled at the thought of Ron’s amused though unsurprised face when she had told them of this.

‘Excellent,’ said Kingsley, ‘we can get your Auror training started right away,’

‘Auror?’ said Harry questioningly, ‘really?’

‘Think you’re under-qualified?’ said Kingsley, smiling, ‘defeated any famous dark wizards lately?’ Harry smiled.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I’d love to be an Auror!’

‘Great!’ said Kingsley, ‘we need a replacement for Dawlish anyway, and in the meantime, there’s plenty of work that needs to be done.’

Kingsley didn’t stay for long after that. He talked briefly with Mrs Weasley, offering his condolences, and shared one drink with the increasingly inebriated party before departing back to the Ministry. On his way out he informed Harry that his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin were safely in the care of the Order and preparing to return to their normal lives, though, he informed him with a jerk of his lips, they could not return to number four, Privet Drive, as the Death Eaters had destroyed it following the battle of the Seven Potters. Harry allowed himself a small smile at the thought of Privet Drive being no more, before bidding Kinglsey farewell and seeing him out into the yard.

After Kinsley had disapparated, Harry lingered in the Garden for some time, looking at the soft mound of dirt marked with a large slab of granite down by the vegetable patch. He leaned on the rough wooden fence and turned his face towards the sky, now clear and smattered with stars. From behind him he heard footsteps but didn’t turn around. He found himself flanked by Ron and Hermione, who joined him in his stargazing.

‘What did Kingsley say?’ asked Ron, resting his elbows on the fence,

‘Wants me to go be an Auror,’ said Harry, considering this avenue further.

‘Cool,’ said Ron admiringly, ‘reckon you’ll be suited to that?’ he shot him a grin.

‘We’ll see I guess,’ said Harry, allowing himself to grin as well. ‘you should join.’ He added, glancing over at Ron.

‘Yeah maybe,’ said Ron thoughtfully looking up at the night sky, ‘I reckon me and Hermione are gonna go to Australia first, find her parents.’ Harry looked over to Hermione, who had a restrainedly hopeful expression.

‘That’s great,’ he said, ‘I hope you find them soon.’

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, ‘well I didn’t put any tracking spells on them in case we were captured and tortured, so it’ll be tricky…’ Ron shrugged,

‘Nothing’s tricky for you Hermione! We’ll probably find them in a week. Plus, we gotta get you back for September first.” He smiled teasingly at her.

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, ‘I don’t want to miss the train! I might have to enchant a car and fly to school,

‘We didn’t enchant the car!’ said Ron indignantly. Hermione laughed.

‘When will you leave?’ asked Harry, glancing between them.

‘Soon.’ Said Hermione plainly, ‘once the dust has settled a bit,’

‘Take food.’ said Harry, grinning at Ron who made a rude gesture in return. Hermione just snorted derisively.

‘Yes, we’d better.’ she said.

They stood at the fence in silence for a while, comfortable soaking up each other’s company as an awareness that they were about to be going their separate ways for the first time in seven years settled over them.

‘I’ll miss you guys.’ said Harry thickly.

‘Yeah mate,’ said Ron encouragingly, ‘we’ll miss you too,’

‘Of course we will,’ said Hermione, placing her hand on Harry’s shoulder, ‘we’ll be back before long.’

‘Yeah,’ added Ron, ‘and we’ll bring you a souvenir, have you heard of these mad things called Kangaroos?’ Harry laughed, Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron loped his arm over Harry’s shoulders. Harry wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, but he felt as though he could stay forever.

Eventually, the two receded and wordlessly wandered back inside, linking arms as they did so. Harry saw them pass a figure in the doorway and recognised Ginny walking across the grass to him, baby Teddy in her arms. As she drew level with him, he saw that Teddy’s hair was now a vivid shade of orange, the exact colour of the Weasleys’ hair. Smiling, Harry drew them both into an embrace, and kissed Ginny softly, cradling her in his arms and looking down at her and Teddy.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ she said, kissing his cheek delicately.

‘How do you know?’ he asked looking down into her deep brown eyes.

‘I know.’ she said simply, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘What now?’ he asked, feeling time opening like a maw before him, threatening to swallow him whole. His task had been accomplished; his all-important purpose fulfilled.

‘Now we live.’ She said, tears shining in her eyes, though none fell. ‘There’s work to be done.’ He smiled at the thought. Though Fred and Lupin and Tonks and Sirius and Dumbledore were gone, Ginny was here, and Teddy was here, and Harry, despite all he had been through, was here.

They embraced under the starry sky as a phoenix firework soared past, emitting sparks and tongues of flame and Harry heard its song in his chest and for the first time in seventeen years, contemplated a future that was totally his own.