The Brooding and the Happy

Mr. Grunnings was never fond of circus folk, at this day was no exception. He left for work dressed in his best black suit with blue tie, getting into his small car and reversing out of his driveway. As he approached the nearby intersection it was clear that today was a particularly odd day; and that there was quite a number of circus folk lining the streets. Mr. Grunning's was not a very polite man, so he rolled how his window and stuck his large head out, he then yelled out to them,

"Get a real job you freaks!"

As that is what he thought they were, no one could dress like them unless they were circus folk. He put his head back into the window, why on earth could they be celebrating! They should be hiding their heads in shame, not galabouting the streets. He glared at one of them who looked to be around thirty, skipping down the street holding a paper, waving it in the air; he did not want to give them the benefit of the doubt so he kept his eyes on the road. He gripped the steering-wheel tighter than he usually did, hunching his shoulder and staring determinedly at the pavement. One of them came over to the car; he was practically leaping for the sky,

"Is it not a wondrous day!" Said the man, Mr. Grunnings grit his teeth and gripped the steering-wheel tighter, turning his knuckles white. His eyes darted quickly to the mirror; he saw what the man was wearing. Must just be a magician, he thought when he saw the man was wearing robes. He still did not look at the man, better not to provoke him. His cousin had rarely mentioned, but mentioned all the same the appearance of these... people, if you could call them that.

"Truly marvellous, did you see the paper? He is dead! Hopefully for good this time!" The light turned green and Mr. Grunnings pushed his foot onto accelerator, desperate to get away from this maniac. He scratched his head nervously; these strange people lined the streets, he was now desperate to get to his work place, wanting to see normal people. He wanted to get there faster and so pushed his foot a little harder on the pedal. He all of a sudden came to a traffic light, this took him by surprise and so he slammed his foot on the brake, the tyres squealed on the pavement and he came to an abrupt halt.

Wiping the sweat from his brow at that possible accident he turned his attention to his left where a bunch of people (also dressed oddly,) were in a tight circle, all holding papers, and all talking excitedly. Right enough was enough he thought to himself, this is just going too far, he contimplated calling his cousin Vernon to discuss this outrage, but he pulled into the parking space instead and opened the door angrily.

He stepped onto the pavement and wandered over to these people, they turned and looked at him and immediately stopped talking, though they did not look too angry with his interruption.

"What are you circus freaks doing lining the streets like this dressed as you are!"

"Circus?" Asked one of them with brown hair taking a confused look at the others.

"I think they are those ones that go around in tents… and perform for people," said the other,

"Does this Muggle think we are one of these performers?" Said the third who was wearing what looked like Pyjamas, "I must say, some of us haven't even tried to hide out identity.."

"Can you blame them? They are exited! As are we, for now he is gone!" They had obviously forgotten that Mr. Grunnings was still standing next to them.

"I think you should all leave and go back to where you came from," he said nastily.

"Where we came from?" Said the first; "what do you imply by that? Are we not welcome here?" Mr. Grunnings opened and shut his mouth several times, then spluttered,


"How frightfully rude," said the man wearing the Pyjamas. He turned his head and walked away with as much dignity as he could gather. "Muggle's these days!" He said almost out of ear-range. The other looked after their friend, then turned and left also, Mr. Grunnings, convincing himself that it was a job well done returned to his car and started the engine again.

Harry sat on his bed staring at the wall, his eyes unfocused, yet still staring. The events of the week were going through his mind. He was convinced Voldemort may still be out there, Ron, or though he would not dare admit it, thought Harry had gone a little insane. But that wasn't right, all his life Voldemort had consumed him, been the reason and cause of everything and now he was just gone; it seemed too surreal to be true. His eyes did not falter; his blinking was slower than normal,

"Harry?" Asked Ginny from the door, he continued to stare ahead. She walked around to the other side of the bed and knelt down so she was at eye contact. Her eyes were full of concern, he seemed perfectly normal mostly, but then he would spend hours in his room, just staring and no one could coax him out.

She placed her hand on his and he snapped out of his daze and looked at her,

"Dinners ready," she said, moving her thumb up and down the back of his hand. He nodded,

"I'll be down in a second," he said, she nodded, standing up and going to walk out,

"Are you ok?" She asked cautiously, Harry paused he didn't know what to say so he just said a lie.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ginny nodded, opening the door and walking out. Harry rested his head in his hands, why wasn't he happy? He had no reason to be, he had reason to be annoyed, but not unhappy. He had endless requests for interviews but he had responded to none. When he went outside, more people looked at him then normal and he was congratulated over and over again, so many times that it became meaningless. The news had spread faster than running water and all the wizarding community knew about Voldemort's death by the next day.

He pushed his hair back, and stood up slowly, walking through the door and down the steps of the Burrow. He did not wish to concern anyone on his wellbeing although he knew it was too late for that.

Every eye turned to him when he entered the room, Sirius smiled then looked down again. He walked over to the seat in the centre of Hermione and Ginny and sat down. Mrs. Weasley immediately came around to him and put food onto his plate. Slowly people began talking again, Harry noticed Ginny's eyes on him, she didn't turn to her, he didn't want to see the hurt look in her eyes again. Suddenly he heard his name being spoken,

"What do you think?" Asked Fred who thought Harry had been listening,

"Um… sure?" Said Harry, a little confused, Fred nodded and turned back to his dad,

"See, Harry agrees with me! We should sell merchandise of Voldemort with his head on a stake or something," (Fred had begun using Voldemort's name ever since the battle,) "it isn't like he's coming back.,"

"Yes, but there are still You-Know-Who's followers out there, if these children are seen carrying or wearing items like you are selling they could be attacked!"

"Like they'd have the guts... I think if Harry could kill Voldemort with only cuts and bruises that he could defeat the rest of them easy, besides Christmas isn't far away, and people will want presents of t-shirts and toys exclaiming what a royal git Voldemort is!" Harry couldn't help but smirk,

"Looking forward to Christmas?" Asked Ginny, prodding her pie with a fork,

"I suppose," he said with a shrug, "I haven't really thought about it actually."

"Yeah it seems a little more meaningless after the war, the possession and everything..."

"Sure has," said Hermione to his left, "it's insane if you think about it! Something normal for once..."

"Nothing insane about Christmas," said Ron with a laugh, "who can question presents?"

"Your so shallow Ronald!" said Hermione,

"I am not!" He argued.

"There is more to Christmas than just presents! Family, friends," she began, numbering them on her fingers.

"Yeah, they are important; they are the ones who give me the presents!"

"See! You are shallow and you don't even notice it!"

"Am not!"

"Bloody hell Ron!"

"See now you are using my expressions!"

"What's that got to do with anything?" She spat angrily,

"I don't know!" He yelled, standing up,

"Neither do I!" She said, also standing. Ron frowned,

"What are we fighting about again?" Hermione screamed in agitation and stormed from the table.

Yep, it is short, but I like short chapters, keeps it interesting. Please Read and Review! Thank you in advance