Light snow was flecking the windowpane as Harry Potter looked out onto the town of Godric’s Hollow. His cottage was cozy and warm and the small fire made shadows dance across the day’s copy of the Prophet strewn on the floor. It was destined to line Morgana’s cage, since there were no stories worth re-reading. The biggest headline was announcing that the ever popular singer Celistina Warbeck would be retiring after a farewell concert on Christmas eve. Harry didn’t care either way about Celistina Warbeck, but he certainly wasn’t disappointed that there was no exciting news. He’d had enough excitement during the war. All that was over now.
After the final battle of Hogwarts, the school resumed classes and of course invited Harry to return and complete his studies. Hermione and Ron both resumed their magical education, but for Harry, school without Dumbledore just didn’t feel right. Instead, he had come here. It was the right decision moving back to Godric’s Hollow. Now that Voldemort had finally gone it made sense that Harry should pick up where he left off that night he got the scar. But Harry was a man now, and his whole life up until that last battle had been about Voldemort. He was experiencing freedom that he had never had. On his own, in his own little cottage, he felt he could really start his life as a wizard.
There was a soft knock on the door interrupting his reverie at the window, and Harry knew it would be Ginny. She bustled in shaking off the flakes from her long red hair. Harry met her with a kiss,
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too” said Ginny. She was away during the week training with the Holyhead Harpies, Britain’s all “ witch Quidditch Team, for whom she was the newest member. On weekends she came home to the little cottage to be with Harry.
“What’s in the bag?” asked Harry.
“Food. I stopped off at McSpritley’s Pub to get takeout.”
“Not haggis I hope...” said Harry with trepidation in his voice.
“No, Tripe! I thought it was your favorite!” looking crestfallen at Harry’s obvious revulsion.
“Oh, it is!” Harry quickly recovered “I love tripe! Mm mm. Really, I do.” If there was one thing Harry had learned from 100 Fail-safe ways to charm witches it was never act like you are going to be sick when the witch in question has just given you something. And it seemed to be working because steadily a smile began to creep back on to Ginny’s face. And then it became a full on grin.
“Gotcha!” she shouted as she tore away the bag, “It’s shepherd’s pie!” and she and Harry both started to laugh until they couldn’t catch their breath. After they had eaten they both settled down in front of the fire fingers intertwined with Arnold the Pygmy Puff perched on Ginny’s shoulder and looked forward to the long weekend ahead.