Rekindled

A future to decide

The Burrow was alive with its usual morning bustle. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh bread filled the air, and the soft clatter of dishes came from the kitchen as Mrs. Weasley hummed while preparing breakfast. Outside, the chickens squawked in protest as George attempted to gather eggs—a task he was evidently failing at, judging by his muttering. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat at the long wooden kitchen table, picking at their toast. Ginny flitted in and out of the room, grabbing a glass of pumpkin juice before heading back out to the garden with her broom slung over her shoulder. 

"Does she ever stop flying?" Ron asked, watching her through the window as she shot into the air. 

"Better than staying cooped up," Hermione said pointedly, glancing at Ron, who had done little more than eat and nap when they weren't working on the castle. 

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Harry cut in. "So, uh, have you two thought more about... Hogwarts?" 

The question hung in the air, heavier than the morning sunlight streaming through the window. Hermione set her cup down with a soft clink, her expression growing serious. 

---

The Hogwarts Conversation 

"We should probably decide soon," Hermione said, glancing between Harry and Ron. "Professor McGonagall needs to know if we're coming back to finish our studies." 

Ron groaned, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "Blimey, Hermione, it's like you enjoy studying or something." 

"It's important, Ron," Hermione snapped. "Don't you want to sit your N.E.W.T.s? They open doors for you—jobs, opportunities—" 

"We already defeated Voldemort," Ron said, cutting her off with an exaggerated shrug. "What's more impressive on a résumé than that?" 

Harry snorted into his tea, though he understood Hermione's point. "I don't know if I want to go back either," he admitted. "It wouldn't feel the same." 

Hermione sighed. "I suppose you're right. But it's still Hogwarts. It's still home." 

Ron reached over and took her hand, his tone softening. "It'll always be home, 'Mione. But we've got to start living in the now, don't we? Move forward." 

Harry nodded, staring into his cup. He wasn't sure what moving forward looked like for him yet, but something about returning to Hogwarts felt... wrong. 

---

Life at the Burrow 

The conversation paused as Mrs. Weasley bustled in with a tray of fresh jam tarts. "You lot could help with something, you know," she said, fixing them with a pointed look. "Arthur's been fixing that ghastly shed door for weeks, and the garden needs de-gnoming." 

"We'll do it after breakfast," Ron mumbled, though it was clear he had no intention of moving until absolutely necessary. 

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione did make an effort to tackle the garden gnomes, though their efforts turned into more of a game than actual work. Ginny joined them halfway through, laughing as she watched Harry try—and fail—to lob a particularly squirmy gnome over the fence. 

"Here, let me," she said, stepping beside him and taking the gnome from his hands. With a quick flick of her wrist, she launched it clean over the hedge. 

"Show-off," Harry muttered, grinning. 

Later, as the sun dipped lower, the group scattered. Ron and Hermione disappeared to the orchard, leaving Harry and Ginny sitting on the back steps of the Burrow, their arms brushing as they watched the garden.