Concerns of Freedom

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Harry wasn't sure what time he crawled out of bed, but it was his stomach which had woken him. He'd headed blindly to the shower and come out again feeling a bit more human. When he left the bathroom, he came to a smart halt and grinned widely, because, waiting for him on the end of the bed was a modest trunk. On the table was a large wedge of sandwich: his stomach rumbled, and Harry was torn between meeting the freedom urges which packing would assuage, and filling his belly. When his stomach cramped at the prospect of being ignored in the presence of good food, the young man decided to eat first, but in the end, he started piling items from his cabinet on the bed for packing with one hand and passing sandwich to his mouth with the other. By the time he had finished eating, Harry was looking at a pile of clothes and items which surprised him; he hadn't thought he'd be anywhere near making an impression on the space in the trunk, but between the borrowed clothes, the gifts and practical items, he decided that he had made a respectable attempt.

Normally, Harry packed as though it was an afterthought, chaotically and usually meaning he'd have to apply a pressing spell on his robes afterwards. However, this was different, this was marking a transition in his life after the nightmare of Hogwarts, and he found himself taking more care. Before he began, Harry took Molly's jumper and pulled it on, he felt warm and comforted, any fears that mixed in with the excitement of being free were now wrapped in another's love. Then he packed his clothes; _his clothes_, that was a joke, but he was reverent with the loans. Then the practical items went in: toothbrush, razor and anything else that his wandless existence had left him with.

Finally, Harry packed the gifts he had received on top of the rest. The trashy book could be read again in many a sleepless night, and was placed carefully between his slippers and his dressing gown. Ron's chess set made a terrible clattering noise as he lifted it into the trunk as all the pieces clamoured for a game; Harry made them a promise to give them some exercise soon to get them to shut up, but he was doubtful about his opponent, as his last treatment of his best friend came to mind. Harry paused as he opened out Ginny's picture, staring at the pencil lines with a mixture of sadness and pride for what it represented. This wasn't something for display, it was very personal, and tenderly, the packer slipped it into the protective pages of the paperback. The computer game Arthur had supplied sat on top of the chess box for further investigation at a later date. Finally, Harry grabbed all the varied sweets that were left and piled them in to the chocolate box: they would be a good way to introduce himself to his barrack mates, men they may have been, but they would react like schoolboys in the face of finest chocolate.

When the lid closed on the trunk, Harry sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. The moment gave his mind time to catch up with what he was actually doing. It was great to be getting out of his mainly one-room existence, but it was also daunting. It had been twelve days since he had woken safe among his friends, but this was the first day when he was really going to be part of them again. The three years distance between himself and his colleagues began to impose itself on his thoughts. The patient had not had to worry about fitting in, his visitors had made allowances for him, but now the returning prodigal had to find a place amongst them and also strangers.

Harry's fingers played at the collar around his neck, as he considered that and other things that would set him apart. Three years in exile, a torture chamber and the perennial fame of being Harry Potter were three large obstacles to being part of the crowd, and the young man was frowning heavily as the more pessimistic side of his nature came out in their consideration. It was like this that Poppy Pomfrey found him. Her knock barely lightened the crease of his brow, and the healer stopped in the doorway as she was greeted by the sombre expression.

"What is the matter, Harry?" she asked with a comforting smile.

The young man huffed, and shrugged, annoyed with himself at feeling so low at such a promising time.

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