The First Year

Pattern of Days

Harry lay in bed, his eyes glued to the ceiling. Ron snored gently in the other bed, sleeping with an ease Harry envied. The morning after his birthday, Molly and Arthur had affixed his clock hand to the family's clock, and Harry's hand had immediately swung to "Home". He'd carried a warm glow the rest of the day, smiling a little when his glance fell on the clock, pushing the memories of Privet Drive back a little further each time.

He had dreamed about his parents that night. They were walking together ahead of him, hand-in-hand, and the faster he ran, the further ahead they were. He called after them, repeatedly, even resorting to using their given names, hoping that would rouse them to something, even anger that he'd called them Lily and James, rather than Mum and Dad. He had managed to wake up before he fell out of bed, but the bedding was so twisted from his flailing about, he had to work his way out of the mess to remake the bed.

It didn't seem as if he could win. One nightmare was replaced by another.

He stealthily reached back to the windowsill for the framed photograph of his parents. Would they have been so upset by the Weasleys doing more than just taking him in? Everything he knew about them pointed to no, but it niggled a little in the back of his head that they might have felt he didn't need them, now that it was all over.

He gave up trying to sleep and reached for the copy of Transfiguration Today Shacklebolt had sent over with a stack of other journals, magazines, and books, instructing him to study and practice as much as he could. Rather than risk waking Ron, and lighting the lamp, Harry pulled his wand out from under his pillow, and thought, Lumos. He trained the narrow beam of light on the fine print of the page and began to read about advances in transfiguring animate objects into inanimate objects without killing them. Harry could see how it might be useful to become a desk or rubbish bin when investigating someone, but the legal issues it raised were perplexing. Harry didn't have much faith in the Wizarding legal system as it was, and he didn't think they would be able to handle testimony gathered in a situation that had no legal precedent.

He worked his way through the article, pausing every so often, to check what the author said against what was in his textbook. A few times, he found something he didn't know the answer to, and wondered why Shacklebolt was even doing something as daft as making him a full Auror. He thought he might write McGonagall and get a list of the seventh year textbooks. He put the magazine down on the floor, and picked up one of the books on potions. It was a small, succinct book that grouped potions ingredients by their use, accompanied by an illustration of the ingredient. It also cross-referenced them with another ingredient that could be substituted for it, and its antidote. Harry wondered why this wasn't on the book list for Potions. It would have helped him immeasurably in school. He finally fell asleep, the book open to a page about ingredients that were primarily used in potions to change the size of people and animals. When Ron woke up to go help Molly with breakfast, he saw Harry sprawled across the camp bed, his wand alit, the light illuminating Harry's feet, his glasses askew, and the book under his cheek.

Sighing, Ron reached down and gently removed Harry's glasses, setting them on the windowsill. He pried the book from under Harry's head and marked the page with a scrap of parchment, then slowly twisted the wand from Harry's grasp, whispering, 'Nox.' He tucked the wand back into Harry's hand, the fingers wrapping instinctively around the handle.

Ron pulled his dressing gown on over his pajamas and stumbled down to the bathroom to wash and dress.

The days fell into a pattern for Harry, Ginny, Ron, and George. In the mornings, after breakfast, they headed to the shop, racing to have it ready to open the next Monday. The cosmetic damages had been easy enough to repair. After all, walls could be repainted, shelves and cabinets could be repaired, and merchandise could be restocked. It was going to take more than a few coats of paint to restore the energy George had had with Fred. Fred had always been the more restless of the two, and he often bounced off the walls in comparison to George. George quietly went about the business of teaching Ron and Harry to make some of the more popular products. According to the ledgers George had kept from their last year at school and the first year they had premises, the Skiving Snackboxes were one of the most popular items, so that was the first thing they made.