He stomps into the house on wobbly legs and slams the door shut. It has been a year since his last visit home, but nothing has changed, and the cosy feel of the combination of the wooden floors and the large, soft couch, its cream-coloured cover showing through under a chaotic pile of blankets and cushions, sits like a balm on his aching heart. A faint smile twitches the corners of his mouth as he glances at the walls. The wallpaper is red, and at one time it must have made the room look like the inside of a blast furnace, but over the years Harry and Ginny have decorated it with photos of family and friends.