Couldn't sleep so here you go, published at 2 am :D
Groggily, Harry opened his eyes. A bright sun shone at him and he placed his hand in front of his face to block the sharp light from blinding him.
His head was throbbing and then he remembered what had happened; he had single-handedly defeated a group of death eaters and survived it. He searched for his glasses on the bedside table and when he found them and placed them on the bridge of his nose, he remembered the muggles. What had happened to the muggles?
He shot up and frantically looked around for someone to aid him with an answer to his question. He turned his head to the left and right, but no person was there. Well, except for the many sleeping patients that he shared the room with.
Harry looked down at his clothes and found that he was dressed in a striped hospital gown with his arm wrapped in fresh bandages. Quickly, he pulled off the duvet covering him and he placed his naked feet on the cold floor.
He rose from the bed and quietly yet quickly walked out of the hospital room. Once he had closed the door behind him, he started sprinting down the corridors. Something was familiar with this place he noted as he ran. Then he realised that he had inadvertently been on the fourth floor in his fifth year when he, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had visited Gilderoy Lockhart by mistake.
At last, he reached the stairs and ran down at an alarming pace. Fortunately, he had not bumped into anyone on his way downstairs. He had reached the reception when he saw the mass of witches and wizards waiting on wooden chairs. Thinking fast, he decided to cover his face with his right arm (as his left was a little sore) and simply run for it.
He ran through the reception, but he had not been so lucky this time as a healer started chasing him. However, Harry was faster and when he had run through the door to the muggle world, he immediately apparated to the ministry of magic. The only thing he had heard the healer say before his departure was, "You can't just run out of the hospital like this!"
When he arrived at the Ministry of Magic, he ran full-speed towards the lifts. Wherever he ran, people turned their heads around to look at the man running in the hospital gown. As Harry's head hurt more and more, he came closer and closer to the lifts and when he finally did reach the lifts, his head hurt so bad, he almost thought he would faint.
In a daze, he pushed the button for the lifts to arrive at his current place and soon, a lift arrived and he stepped inside it.
The lift was not empty, there were three other men in there; one from his own department and two from the department of magical artefacts. They looked at him with raised eyebrows and soon, the man he recognised from his department asked, "Mr Potter, why are you here in a hospital gown?"
Grasping his sides and panting, he thought of a quick comeback, "Haven't you heard? It's the latest in fashion."
The man turned his head slightly, furrowed his brows in confusion and said, "Really?"
"Yeah. It's trendy." Harry said and even though he was in a very serious situation, he couldn't help but laugh for himself at his colleague's gullibility.
The man looked down at his clothes and said quietly, "I knew cloaks weren't trendy anymore." He then slapped his forehead repeatedly while the other men seemed untroubled and paid no attention to the other men in the lift.
At last, he arrived at his desired floor. He ran as soon as the lift opened, hurrying past the many curious ministry employees that he had not the time to pay attention to.
Just before he had reached the Auror department, he felt a great, strong arm pull him away from his path.
Quickly, he glanced at the man who had pulled him away from his mission. To his surprise, Mr Watset was standing before him. Harry stopped fighting against him and blinked heavily.
"What are you doing running around in the halls of the ministry in a hospital gown, Mr Potter?" Watset asked with the slightest smile across his pale, old face.
In a hurry, Harry explained shortly the situation, "I was looking for you, sir. When I was in the hospital I realised how I lacked the information on how the mission went."
Remembering that he had not explained the part about his clothes, he shot in, "Hospital gowns are the latest in fashion, Watset. I'm surprised you didn't know." His facial expression remained sincere and he fondly observed as his boss was immediately convinced. But perhaps that was simply because he thought muggle fashion was always odd?
"Had you been a better observer, Potter, I'd say you would find that I left a letter for you at the hospital; enclosed was information about the mission." Watset smiled as he said this.
He then turned serious. "However, I can confirm that a number of death eaters were indeed caught and all of the muggles were safely returned to their respective homes with or without medical needs."
Harry processed the news and sighed faintly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to cure the headache. It didn't work. "You mean to say that many of the death eaters escaped capture?"
"Sadly, yes."
The two walked to Watset's office where they discussed further details of the mission in privacy. Harry was there disappointed to learn that twenty more death eaters from that very mission were still on the loose. He felt as if the mission had failed his expectations. He had thought that he had defeated them all, but no, he had not.
They further discussed how the ministry would act and how they would reveal the secret mission. They had agreed to tell the Daily Prophet about the mission in the evening. They would have to be careful about not revealing too much about the secret Department of High Crisis as this would surely defeat its purpose of secrecy.
Harry had then rather reluctantly agreed to take some days off work to recover from the mission. Watset meant it would be good for his physical and mental health.
Then, when the two men were finished discussing important matters, Harry returned to St. Mungos to fetch his things. There, he was met with dissatisfaction and disappointment from a healer who had searched for him for a long time. He was told that it was dangerous to leave the hospital the way he had done and Harry agreed without much thought or meaning. The healer left him after he had examined him for the last time and Harry had signed papers confirming that he was leaving the hospital.
At his nightstand, he found several flowers and letters he had not paid attention to earlier. He found a letter from Mrs Weasley asking him to eat dinner at the Burrow in the evening, the letter with information about the mission and a new edition of The Quibbler inside an envelope from Luna.
He dressed in the clothes he had worn earlier and as he was putting the letters in the pocket of his jacket, he felt a small piece of paper that was already there. He fished it out of his pocket and saw that it was Sharlene's telephone number, which, in the midst of everything, he had forgotten all about.
His mind contemplated if he should call her or not and when he remembered that he had almost died for the millionth time recently and that perhaps taking a risk would not harm him, he decided to call her at the earliest opportunity.
After taking a final look at the piece of paper, he put it back in his pocket together with the letters. He then disapparated and the very next moment, he found himself in the familiar space that he had loved for so many years of his life.
The smell of different spices and the smell of cat hit him and before even a second had passed, he could hear the familiar sound of Mrs Weasley's voice calling him, "Harry, is that you?"
When he replied "yes", she came running from the kitchen to the sitting room where Harry had apparated. The sheer smile on her face illuminated a motherly love that he longed for and her eyes that resembled Ginny's were shining in tears. Then, she embraced him in a hug so lovely he wished she had never let go. The warmth of a mother was the cure for every despair, he thought as he let go.
"Always a pleasure to see you, Mrs Weasley," Harry said joyfully as he smiled at her.
She stood still in front of him for a second before she hugged him again and said to him softly, "I am so glad that you are here and unharmed."
That hug was shorter but no lesser than the first.
When she pulled away, she smiled at him and commented that he must be starving and told him dinner was soon ready. He smiled as he watched her walk back to the kitchen to attend to her cooking.
Harry walked into the living room where he saw only Ginny reading in an armchair. As he entered the room, she looked up, smiling at him. "How do you feel, Harry?"
He sat down in the chair beside her and said he was feeling fine and then asked what day it was.
At this, Ginny smiled widely, something which left Harry perplexed. "Why, it's the eleventh of August, Harry! The day that I celebrate my twenty-first year of life!"
"Right, happy birthday, Ginevra!" Harry smiled, stood up and embraced her in a quick hug.
"Am I degraded to Ginevra?" Ginny joked.
Harry smiled and laughed ever so slightly.
Then came silence accompanied by further silence. The two stood before each other, balancing back and forth on the heel of their feet, looking everywhere but each other's gazes.
Both were thinking about each other. They thought of how much they longed for each other and how badly they wished to snog each other. However, the thoughts would remain thoughts as neither acted upon it.
Then came a loud bang, something which Harry recognised as the door flinging open. In came Bill, a pregnant Fleur holding her daughter, Victoire, George, Hermione and Ron. Very soon, the awkward atmosphere was flipped around into the liveliest atmosphere that Harry had experienced in ten days.
As they all gathered around the table to dine after some time of greetings, congratulations and catching up, Ron and Hermione called for everyone's attention. Every mouth shut and an exciting silence filled the room.
"Hermione and I have some pretty big news to share with you all -" Ron began before Mrs Weasley cut him off.
"You're having a child? You're promoted? You're moving away to America? Oh, Ronald, how could you?" Mrs Weasley guessed smiling cheerfully.
Ron and Hermione laughed before Hermione continued Ron's statement, "We're getting married!" Her eyes shone so brightly it seemed to resemble a sun in a galaxy of freckles and her wide-spread smile reflected her great joy.
Ron too was smiling as bright as ever as he kissed his fiancée's hot cheek.
Congratulations were said and before anyone knew it, the dinner was eaten up as well as the cake decorated as a quaffle for Ginny and the Weasley-Potter-Granger-Delacour family was chatting in the sitting room.
Every so often, Hermione seemed to glance down at her finger, almost as if she couldn't believe properly that she was engaged to be married. She laid in Ron's arms as he caressed her bushy brown hair that he loved so very much.
Mr and Mrs Weasley were chatting privately to each other in the corner of the room with concerned frowns upon their faces.
Fleur was playing with her little child on her lap, making silly grimaces as she and her husband looked at the child in awe every time she smiled. George was every now and then conjuring whisps of colours to entertain the child and watched his niece happily as well.
Ginny spoke with Hermione and Ron of how she was so happy on their behalf. They discussed small details about the future wedding and questions about marriage were asked.
Harry was somewhere in the middle of this, uncertain on exactly which group he belonged to. He didn't think he really belonged to any, as he jumped into the group conversations at random.
Ginny was asked to be the maid of honour and Harry was asked to be the best man, something they both accepted. Then he spoke some more with Ron about the wedding as the girls were discussing dress shopping.
While Harry was more engaged in the other group of people, Mrs Weasley walked up to him and asked if she could have a word with him outside. He nodded and excused himself from the grimacing group.
He left the cheerful room and followed Mrs Weasley outside to the garden.
The burrow's garden was warm and grew darker as the sun threatened to disappear beyond the horizon. The grass was freshly cut and there was no sight of a single gnome.
Mrs Weasley closed the door behind her and looked seriously at Harry. He wasn't sure what to expect and waited for her to initiate a conversation, which she did after a short time.
"How can you volunteer as bait for three dozen-plus death eaters, Harry?" Mrs Weasley said, not with anger in her voice, but worry and concern.
"It was the only solution, Mrs Weasley. There was no time for any other plan." Harry replied sincerely, saddened by Mrs Weasley's concern.
Mrs Weasley sighed. "But why is it always you Harry? Why is it always you that seeks danger and acts as bait? I worry so much that the next time will be the last time."
She had never seemed so exhausted, Harry thought, exhausted of worrying. He felt so very bad for her as she stood there, her eyes full of concern for her basically-son, but he could t help to feel a little happy. Harry saw so clearly that in front of him was someone who loved him as deeply as a mother could.
Before he could answer her, he was embraced in a hug. "Please just be careful, Harry."
He smiled sadly and happily. He was a little confused as to what he was supposed to be feeling, both feelings were so strong.
"I will," he said as they let go.