But I Won't Do That

Ron led the way up the walk to the house. Harry was right behind, with Draco bringing up the rear. “I can’t believe you forgot how to Apparate, Potter,” Draco muttered.
Harry flushed; they’d had to take a muggle taxi. “I’ve forgotten a lot of things,” he admitted nervously.

A door slammed down the street and Harry jumped; he was still feeling exposed. He was no longer hidden from the wizarding world, and he could only imagine what would happen when word got out he was alive. Attacks from the remaining Death Eaters aside, there would be a great many wizards and witches who’d be furious he’d faked his own death. It had taken a lot more convincing from Ron to get Harry to return to the house his friends all shared.

Ron opened the door and waved Harry inside. Harry stood just inside the door and glanced around, his eyebrows rising in surprise. The inside of the house was huge, a good bit larger than on the outside. There were two enormous sweeping staircases leading to the upper floors from the foyer; between them was a large fireplace, and a door that appeared to lead to the kitchen. The entire house was decorated with deep, rich woods whose darkness stopped just short of being somber – instead the entire place seemed cozy, despite its unbelievable size.

“What is this place?” Harry asked as Draco shut the door behind him. “I mean, how did you get it?”

“I bought it,” Draco said dismissively, hanging his cloak beside the door.

“You bought it? And invited everyone to live here together?” Harry could hardly comprehend it; a world where Draco Malfoy, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna lived together out of choice? It seemed impossible.

Harry looked questioningly at Ron, who shrugged uncomfortably. “It just sort of made sense,” he mumbled.

Harry fought against another surge of fear. Everything in him was telling him to run away, recast the Fidelius Charm, and get the hell out before things went really bad. Casting his eyes around for anything to distract him, his gaze rested on the mantel above the fireplace, and Harry was suddenly unable to move.

“Harry?” Ron said after a minute had passed. “What is it?”

Harry took a shaky step towards the fireplace. “Is- is that-”

Ron and Draco followed his gaze. “Yeah, Harry, it is,” Ron said softly.

Harry slowly walked the rest of the way to the fireplace and gazed at the slim object. He swallowed. “Holly and phoenix feather,” he whispered. “Eleven inches.”

Harry’s wand rested in a wooden holder on the mantel. It had been polished until it looked brand new, and a charm kept it free of dust. “H-how did you end up with it?” Harry asked.

“Dumbledore,” Ron explained. “He went to get Voldemort’s body, and found it there. He gave it to us.”

Harry stared numbly at his wand. He could see the slight depression his right thumb had worn into the wood over the course of seven years. It had fit his hand perfectly, like an extension of his arm, and now, staring at it, Harry wondered how he had managed to go so long without the feel of the smooth wood against his palm. But something stopped him as he reached out to pick it up. His hand was shaking so badly he was sure he’d drop it, and he let his arm fall to his side again.

“Go ahead, Potter, take it up again,” Draco said with amusement. “Let them know you’re back.”

“What?” Harry turned to look at Draco. “What do you mean?”

“Hermione put a little charm on your wand, Harry,” Ron explained nervously. “So that the second you took it up again, all six of us would know you’re back.”

Harry turned back and stared at his wand again, although he made no move to take it. “I don’t think I can do this,” he muttered.

Ron was silent for a moment. “Harry,” he said finally, “I know it isn’t going to be easy, but you really belong here. You have to take it. How else are you gonna become Minister of Magic and have twelve kids like Trelawny said?”

Harry stared at Ron blankly until he remembered the moment in his fifth year; the look on that hag Umbridge’s face had made it the one time he’d really appreciated his Divination Professor. He laughed shakily, feeling almost on the edge of hysteria, and fought down another fierce wave of dread. Taking a deep breath, Harry turned back to the mantel, and before he could stop to think again, he reached out and snatched up his wand.

The moment it settled against his palm Harry felt all the fear, all the tension and foreboding flow out of him. Ron was right; it was where he belonged. He hadn’t wanted to leave, and had spent years hating himself for bringing about his own exile. But standing in the foyer of an enchanted house, holding his first and only wand, he knew he’d bear any pain that was due to him, so long as he never again had to leave.

After a moment Harry turned and saw that Ron and Draco both were wearing slightly glazed looks. “Is that- did Hermione’s charm work?” Harry asked.

Ron and Draco both nodded. “Damn, Granger should have told us it’d feel like this; I would’ve looked for you harder, Potter,” Draco muttered.

Any response Harry might have formed was cut short by a popping sound as Hermione Apparated into the foyer. She spun to face them, stared at Harry with large, dewy eyes, and threw her arms around him, sobbing. “You’re b-back,” she wailed, pressing her face into Harry’s chest and soaking his t-shirt. “You’re r-r-really h-here…”

Harry nodded through his own tears, crushing Hermione tightly. She hadn’t changed any more than Ron; she was perhaps a hair taller, and a shade more womanly in her figure, but the hair that clung to Harry’s wet cheek was still bushy and out of control, and her voice was just as Harry remembered it – even thick with tears like the last time he’d seen her, Harry thought guiltily.

Another pop made Harry and Hermione start and release each other quickly, like teenagers caught snogging. Luna had Apparated right next to Harry, and she looked more shocked than anything. Harry was relieved to see that Luna had reclaimed some of the dreamy appearance she’d perpetually carried before Harry’s terrible Charm. Apparently deciding that being surprised wasn’t enough of a reaction, Luna hugged Harry as well, though more calmly than Hermione had. “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry,” she murmured in his ear; Harry heard a certain reservation in Luna’s voice, and flushed with shame. He knew he’d have a lot of repairing to do before he could feel right with any of them.

Neville appeared just as Harry and Luna released each other. Harry was suddenly struck completely dumb; if it hadn’t been the knowledge that the man before him had to be Neville, he would never have believed it.

Neville had always been slightly overweight, but his body had turned into something any man could envy. He was stacked with muscles, and Harry thought there wasn’t an ounce of extra fat on his body. And Neville had grown into his features too – his formerly pudgy, round face was softly square-jawed and bore a stylish beard that suited it incredibly well. Neville looked like something off the cover of a romance novel.

But it was definitely the same Neville who took one look at Harry, broke out in an enormous grin, and nearly squeezed the breath out of Harry with a bear hug. “About time you came to your senses, Harry!” he said, beaming. “Did you get hit by a Confusion Jinx and forget you were a wizard?” He chuckled at Harry’s expression, and smiled shyly, and Harry finally saw the boy he’d known for half his life. “It’s so good to see you again,” Neville said quietly. “I was starting to worry maybe Ron had been wrong. About you- not having died.”

“I, um…” Harry glanced around at Luna, who smiled a bit tremulously, and at Hermione, who was hugging Ron; and at Draco, who was leaning against the mantel with his arms crossed, looking amused but vaguely bored. He looked back at Neville, who sensed he’d said something awkward, and flushed. How could Harry even begin to talk to these people, to try and make them his friends again? Where could he start?

Pop. Harry turned, and swallowed before meeting Ginny’s glare. She was just standing there, staring at him, with wide eyes and an unreadable expression.

Ginny had changed in much the same ways as Draco, but to a greater extent. She’d grown just a bit taller, and her formerly heart-shaped face had become almost gaunt. Her hair was cut to shoulder length, and it looked as though she hadn’t bothered with styling it, but just let it grow however it would. She had definitely filled out as a woman, and what Harry could see of her around her robes was at once slim and muscular, but to an exaggerated degree, like she’d been bodybuilding. Ginny stepped forward almost cautiously, as though she couldn’t believe her own eyes, and Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t seem able to do anything.

Ginny’s fist hit Harry’s cheek so hard he felt his jaw almost pop loose. The force of the punch spun Harry around and if Neville hadn’t caught him he would have collapsed. His wand clattered on the ground as he grabbed at Neville’s robes. He stared up into Neville’s startled eyes and was momentarily unable to think of anything but how unbelievably strong Ginny had become. “Ow,” he muttered absently.

“Be glad it was one of the others that found you, Harry,” Ginny said softly, and there was no mistaking the rage in her voice, “because if it’d been me, there wouldn’t have been enough of you left to bring back.” With one last furious look at Harry, Ginny ran up the stairs and disappeared from sight.

When Harry dragged his stinging eyes from where Ginny had last been, he realized his jaw really hurt. He touched it tentatively and winced; it wasn’t dislocated, but there would be one large, nasty bruise.

“Harry?” Hermione seemed ready to panic. “Harry, it was j-just a shock…Ginny will be all right, you’ll see.” Harry nodded absently, still cautiously exploring his jaw with his fingers. “Here,” Hermione said, “Let me do something about that.” She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Harry’s jaw.

“NO!” Harry shouted, slapping Hermione’s wand away.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped. “I- I wasn’t going to do anything…”

Harry’s heart was racing, but he cursed himself when he saw the hurt in Hermione’s eyes. Nice one, Harry, he thought. Way to smooth things over. “S-sorry, I just…I’m just jumpy around m-magic,” he said quickly. “The last time a w-wand was p-pointed at me…” Hermione’s eyes widened in understanding. “C-could I just have some ice for it?” Harry asked meekly.

Everyone was quiet as they followed Harry and Hermione into the kitchen, where she made up an ice pack for Harry’s cheek. Harry winced when it touched his bruise, but the cold immediately started numbing the soreness. He smiled his thanks at Hermione, who flushed and touched his arm comfortingly. It was a gesture so familiar to both of them that for just a moment, Harry almost felt like no time had passed at all.

“Well, Potter,” Draco said, his voice filled with mirth, “I’m so very glad I didn’t miss this. That was one of the most entertaining things I’ve seen in years.”

Ron shot Draco a very ugly look, and Luna scowled at him as well. “Glad you enjoyed the show, Draco,” Harry muttered. “But if all you’re going to do is laugh when this is hard enough already, I’d just as soon you pissed off.”

“That’s your trick, Potter,” Draco said carelessly, ignoring the scorching looks. “But I do need to return to the Ministry and finish my report. See you all tonight.” He walked over to the kitchen door. “I will see you tonight, won’t I, Potter?” he asked with a raised eyebrow before shutting the door behind him.

Harry felt the question burning on the tongues of everyone there. “Don’t,” he said firmly, startling them all. “Don’t even think it.” He stomped viciously on his fear and met the eyes of each of them in turn. “I swear to you,” he said in a shaky voice, “that I’m not going to leave again.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione stammered, “we weren’t thinking that-”

“Of course you were,” Harry countered, a bit more sharply than he’d intended. “You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. It’s okay, Hermione, if anyone should feel guilty, it’s me, remember?”

The awkward silence that followed that statement dragged on until Harry couldn’t bear it any more. “Look,” he said, “I- this is just really hard, you know? Can I-” He swallowed. “Can I just have a bit longer to be happy you don’t all want to kill me?”

Neville and Luna grinned, and Ron let slip a tension-relieving chuckle. “Sounds like a good idea,” Neville answered, and clapped Harry on the back.

“I suppose what we all have to say can wait a bit longer,” Hermione added with a shy smile. She yawned, and smirked when both Ron and Harry did the same. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted. Maybe it’s time for bed.”

Despite the fact that it was quite early, Harry had to agree. “Er, if it’s okay, I’d like to…” He reddened a bit. “What I mean is, I think it would be good if I could stay…if that’s all right?”

“Of course, Harry!” Ron said, as Luna, Neville and Hermione nodded. They all looked relieved, and Harry knew that despite his reassurances they were still scared he would vanish again.

“If there’s a couch or something I could crash on, just point me to it…”

“A couch?” Neville laughed. “Harry, there’s five spare bedrooms in this place not being used. Take your pick!”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Oh,” he said weakly.

They all went upstairs together. Hermione showed Harry to a spare bedroom, and pointed him towards the bathroom nearby. She and the others said goodnight, and they all hugged Harry tightly again; Harry could tell they were making sure he wasn’t some hallucination.

Finally Harry shut the door behind him. He turned to face the room with his back against the door, and slowly slid down until he was on the floor. He stared blankly at the opposite wall, trying to get a grasp on the sudden return of the world he’d thought was closed to him forever. He thought about the nervousness, the hesitation they all shared, himself included. And most of all, he thought of Ginny’s cold, furious eyes.

“What the bloody hell do I do now?” he whispered, and began to shake uncontrollably.