Hello! I survived and am now excited to write and hopefully this menas plenty of story for you all. I hope you enjoy the much agonised over chapter 42!
And now, a word from the Beta!
B/N: Greetings, readers! This should be one of last drawn-out updates, as our dear author has finally made it through her practicum and dance recitals! She sailed through with flying colours! (I’m so proud of her… *grins*) I happen to know she is hard at work on the next chapter, so hopefully this fic is now back on the update train.
Enjoy!
Jen aka goinbacktosquareone
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Rebuilding Life | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: General, Humor, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1776 Summary: Harry has defeated Voldemort but is going back to his life going to be easy? What will he go back to, the life he once had is meaningless now. It's time to build a new one and to create a new post-Voldemort world. Ginny is there waiting for him, what do they need to do to rebuild their lives? Hitcount: Story Total: 580241; Chapter Total: 15023 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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“George?” Ron called as he and Harry staggered into the tiny church in Ottery St Catchpole with a flower arrangement bigger than them. “I think that goes … maybe up the front?” George shrugged and Ron and Harry staggered up to the altar, dropping the flower arrangement on top of it. “Why are we doing this in a church anyway?” Charlie asked plaintively as he struggled to reattach an enormous bow to one of the pews “Angie’s family wanted it in a church and … well they’re a bit … she wanted to keep them happy anyway,” George said. “We couldn’t find one but Perce told us the church here was still booked for today so …” “I really do wish Penelope had been more prompt with things but, in hindsight it was a fortuitous oversight,” Percy said as he hurried up the aisle with a gigantic candlestick. “Now, where are the seating plans?” “The what?” George asked blankly. “Seating plans,” Percy said patiently, “so that we can seat everybody.” “Doesn’t matter where people sit,” George said, wandering up to the altar at the front of the church and idly fiddling with the gigantic flower arrangement. He stared unseeing at the flowers a faint frown on his face. “He’s getting married in an hour and a half,” said Ron. “It’d be good if he had a smile on his face.” “It’s not that he’s not happy,” Charlie added as he leaned against a pew. “He is … it’s just …” “Is he still hung over?” asked Percy briskly. He was ticking things off on his piece of parchment and his face was a tightly controlled mask devoid of emotion. “No,” said Ron. “I’m the only one who’s hung over since you greedy gits left me only half a dose.” “S’what you get for getting out of bed last,” Charlie grinned at him. “Shut up,” Ron muttered. He winced as a shrill voice pierced the air. “What are you boys doing?” Molly called as she bustled into the chapel. “I sent you down here to make sure the decorations were in place! What are you playing at, standing around doing nothing? You should be getting dressed! We don’t have a lot of time!” “Mum-” “Charlie, you need a haircut!” “Mum-” “Come on, we’ve got time. I can do it now. I can’t believe we didn’t do this yesterday!” “Mum, I don’t need a haircut,” Charlie protested. Molly huffed exasperatedly and strode over to Bill. She flicked her wand at the flower arrangement setting it on a plinth to the left hand side. “Now, why didn’t we think of levitating it?” Ron sighed. “Are you still wearing that earring? I thought I told you to take it out?” Molly said to Bill, hands on her hips. “I always wear it,” Bill grumbled mutinously. “George, dear,” Molly said, ignoring Bill’s response entirely. “Your father brought your robes; they’re in that little dressing room the vicar showed us to last week. You really should go and get changed.” “Mum,” George complained, “it’s ages until the wedding if I get dressed now I’ll just get dirty or something.” “Nonsense,” Molly said briskly. “You aren’t two years old any more. Off you go!” She turned George around and prodded him towards the aisle. Molly followed closely behind, beaming at Percy. He was the only one of them already dressed for the wedding and she stopped to brush invisible lint from his shoulders. “Everything’s in place, mother,” Percy said. “Do try not to worry.” “You’re such a good boy,” Molly murmured patting him on the arm, “and holding up so beautifully.” Percy looked pained and began scribbling furiously on his parchment. Molly, oblivious to his discomfort turned to Harry and eyed his hair for a moment. “No … it doesn’t ever lie flat,” Harry said. Molly smiled and shook her head ruefully before turning to Ron. “What?” Ron asked belligerently. “Nothing dear,” Molly said patiently. “It’s just you look a bit peaky. I wondered if you wanted me to fetch some more potion for you.” “Mum, you’re the best,” Ron breathed. Molly smiled and patted him on the cheek. “Now, off you go,” Molly said as she motioned to George, fluttering her hands in the direction of the vestibule where the little dressing room was located. “Bill, you go with him.” “He doesn’t need a minder, Mum,” Bill protested. “I just …” “It’s all right, Mum,” George said gently, kissing her cheek. “I’m okay. Stop worrying about me.” They watched as George went to get dressed, the door to the dressing room clicked shut behind him and Molly sagged, looking worn and tired. “Why does he think I can stop worrying?” she asked. “He’ll be fine,” Bill said putting his arm around her shoulder. “I think … I think we just have to get used to the fact that … he’s never going to be the same but he will be all right. He’s got Angie now and … they need each other.” “Such a lovely girl,” Molly muttered, brushing a tear from her own cheek. “She is,” Bill said, “and she’ll look after him, they’ll look after each other.” “He is happy, isn’t he?” Molly almost pleaded with her oldest son. “He is,” Bill nodded. “They both are, well … as much as they can be.” “I’ve been so worried about him,” Molly confessed. “He was very excited when he told us about the baby-” “Were you?” Charlie asked with a smirk. “Of course!” Molly replied indignantly. “I can’t believe he got up the guts to tell her after the conversation we had about … propriety,” Harry muttered to Ron. “Was this before or after you and Ginny …” Ron trailed off and grimaced. Harry stared at him. “What are you two muttering about?” Charlie asked quietly as Bill reassured their mother. “Harry’s sex life,” Ron whispered. Charlie eyed Harry intently and Harry felt the heat creep up his neck. “Shut up,” he hissed at Ron. “You are so lucky this is a church and we can’t beat you up,” Charlie said with a smirk. Harry tried to ignore their sniggering, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring. He’s just so … he’s very up and down,” Molly sighed. “Just when I think he’s moving on something makes him so angry-” At that moment the conversation was cut off by a slamming door and raised voices from the vestibule. “Just say it, Dad!” George shouted. “Say his NAME!” “George …” Arthur’s voice was quiet, pleading. “SAY IT!” “There’s no need to upset yourself,” Arthur said, but he got no further as George came striding into the chapel; he was half dressed in a pair of smart looking trousers, his feet and chest bare. “ONE OF YOU SAY HIS NAME!” He was shaking, his fists clenched and his face red with anger. “George …” Charlie said helplessly. Arthur stood behind him looking troubled. “I want … I just want …” George’s fury was fading fast and he slumped a little, looking at Charlie with pleading, tearful eyes. “You can tell us,” Ron said gently. “I’m not mental,” George said, turning to Ron, talking only to him. “I know he’s gone and … he can’t be here …” “I know,” Ron said. “I want him here,” George whispered. “I know.” “No one ever talks about him!” George said suddenly. “No one says his name! How can Fred be here, be a part of it, if everyone’s ignoring he ever existed?” “No one’s ignoring Fred,” Ron said. “We just … we don’t know what to say.” “He should be here,” George said angrily. “He’s supposed to be here. He’s supposed to rib me about getting a ball and chain and he’s supposed to fill our suitcases with Filibuster’s or sew my underwear shut or slip Canary Creams into the wedding cake.” “No one is regretting missing all that more than Fred,” Ron said, a grin twitching at the corners of his lips. “And when you curse us for doing it he’ll be sitting up there complaining we stole his thunder.” “You haven’t,” George was fighting his own grin. “You don’t know that,” Ron said with a smug smile. George looked at him for a long moment. “And he’s supposed to … he’s supposed to be my best man.” “I know he was,” Ron said, the grin fading. He paused for a moment. “We would … any of us would …” “I — I just … I can’t,” George said. He was pleading with them to understand. Ron opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Ginny stomping into the church, shaking the snow out of her perfectly coiffed hair and scowling viciously. She was the loveliest creature Harry had ever seen. “Unbelievable,” she said. “I cannot believe I have to put up with her! Of all the … George! Aren’t you dressed yet? Honestly, we can’t trust you to — is that a tattoo?” “Uncanny,” George said shaking his head. “It’s like a little mini-Mum.” Ginny stalked over to George, peering at his left shoulder. “Oh,” she said softly. “It’s a Hippogriff,” he said. “His name’s Gred.” As he turned, Harry saw the tattoo of a grey Hippogriff flying in circles on George’s left shoulder blade. “It’s … he’s very cool,” Ginny said, smiling, her eyes glistened a little with unshed tears. “So what has got you all in a twist, little Ginnikins?” George asked. “Oh, I just …” Ginny trailed off as she looked around the room and caught sight of Bill. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” She smiled brightly but Harry wasn’t fooled and neither was George. “What did she do now?” “You don’t even know who I’m talking about!” Ginny retorted. “I can guess,” George argued. “Mum’s in here, so it’s not her and Hermione’s gone to help the Muggles over at Angie’s. There are no other women except Fleur because Charlie here obviously has more of a thing for dragons-” “Oi!” Charlie said. “I’ll have you know that Sylvana is perfectly human!” “Oh really?” George leered at his older brother. “Sylvana hey? First we’ve heard of her!” “What has Fleur done now?” Bill interrupted with a heavy sigh. “You’ve got a houseguest,” Ginny turned to him, accusing. “Yeah, I know, she arrived today,” Bill said, puzzled. “Only you’re staying with us tonight so she’s our houseguest,” Ginny glared at her older brother. “Yeah-” “Which means she’ll have to stay in my room!” “Oooh, a kink in your plans, Harry?” Charlie asked with a smirk. “Shut up!” Harry hissed. Everyone turned to look at him and Ginny raised an eyebrow before shaking her head. “Fleur wanted to help her family out,” Bill said. “Mum said it’s all right if she stays and George said it’s okay if she comes to the wedding-” “She’s a nightmare!” “Really, Ginny,” Bill said, “she’s a perfectly lovely kid. Fleur got to know her older sister, Pearl, when she was here for the Tournament and she just wanted to help them out. She hasn’t got anywhere to go for Christmas and with their parents … gone and Pearl in Asia with her new husband-” “You mean I have to put up with her all Christmas?” Ginny screeched. “I think you’re overreacting,” Bill said. “Audrey is a perfectly lovely girl.” Harry couldn’t help it, he sniggered. Ginny turned on him. “Oh, you can laugh,” she said, scowling. Harry attempted to school his features into a look of proper concern but he was aware that he was smirking. Ginny huffed at him and turned away. “Who’s Audrey?” Charlie asked. “Only the most talkative witch on earth,” Ginny said. “She will chew my ear off about anything. Seamus she won’t speak to, but me … ugh, she wants to be my friend and she thinks talking to me about the proper way to shine my shoes will accomplish that!” “It’s very important to shine your shoes in the correct manner,” Percy said absently, marking something on his parchment. “It’s always important to apply the polish in a circular motion and buff them when you’ve finished. It gives a better finish. I say George, did you shine your shoes?” Ginny just looked at Percy and shook her head. “She already wants to sit with me during the wedding,” Ginny whined. “She thinks we are going to be the best of friends! This is going to be unbearable. I’m not going back there, I’m staying here. If I have to listen to one more conversation about hair curling charms I will curl something — and it won’t be her hair!” “Well, if you’re going to stay,” George said, reaching into his pocket, “make yourself useful.” He tossed her a small red box. Ginny snatched it out of the air. “What’s this?” she asked. “The rings,” George replied as he turned and went back to the dressing room. “Don’t lose ‘em. That Audrey can’t sit next to you if you’re standing up the front.” He shut the door behind him and Ginny stared at the box in her hand. “What …” “I think he just asked you to be his best man,” Ron said, amused. “But I’m a girl!” “So Harry tells us,” Ron replied with a grin. Ginny blushed spectacularly and glared at Harry. “I didn’t tell them anything,” Harry growled. “Well, all right then,” Molly said briskly. “Percy, you stay here and wait for the guests. Ginny … oh I suppose you had better stay with George and Arthur. The rest of you, back home this minute and get dressed.” Percy bent industriously over his parchment and then eyed one of the flower arrangements, shaking his head. “There is much to do,” he murmured and hurried to the arrangement purposefully. Arthur followed Molly to the door of the church, whispering quietly to her. Ginny hovered uncertainly outside the door of the dressing room and Harry lingered for a moment. “George is completely mental,” Ginny muttered. “What can he possibly be thinking? I can’t be a best man!” “Well … be a best woman then,” Harry replied. “I suppose …” Ginny said doubtfully. “I just … let me talk to him for a moment?” Harry bent to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Ginny nodded. Harry pulled from her grasp and knocked on the dressing room door. There was no answer. Harry pushed the door open. George was sitting on a chair, his head bowed and a pair of socks dangling from his hands. “Can I … can I come in?” Harry asked tentatively. George sniffed. Harry, taking that as a yes, shut the door behind him with a soft click. “I can’t believe he’s not here,” George said suddenly. “Those we love never really leave us,” Harry said softly. George jerked his head up. “What?” “The people we love are a part of us, they never really leave us,” Harry said softly. “Fred is … he’s right here.” Harry tapped his chest, over his heart. “You can’t blame other people for not remembering Fred … you have to let yourself feel.” “I am feeling!” George cried. “I’m feeling nervous and anxious and like I bollixed things up and like I’m not good enough for Angie and … and like … and like …” George trailed off, his fist clenched, the socks dangling limply from each one. “But you’re not feeling Fred,” Harry said simply. “You’re trying to make the rest of us do that for you. He’s here, he’s a part of every one of us but we can’t make you feel him. You have to do that.” “I can’t,” George ground out. “He’d be … I made such a mess of things. I’m a mess! And … she was his girl.” George’s voice faded to a whisper. "Stop feeling guilty,” Harry said. “If Fred had a problem with what was going on, don't you think he'd have found a way to hex you by now? Besides, I’ve seen you together. You’re happy when you’re with her.” “She helps me forget … and remember …” George said. Harry waited. “She helps me forget I’m alone and she … she gets it, you know. We cry sometimes — when we remember. She misses him too and then I hold her and kiss her and we tell stories and then … we forget … we forget that it’s painful.” “Then look after her,” Harry said shrugging. “She probably doesn’t want to see you crying at your wedding, you know?” George snorted before he sighed. “He’s here,” Harry said softly, “trust me.” “I know,” George sighed, “but … I couldn’t have anyone replace him. Not even Lee. It would just … am I mad to ask Ginny to stand up with me?” “Maybe,” Harry replied, “but you can get away with it.” “Think she’ll do it?” “She’s waiting outside,” Harry said. “I’ll send her in.” “Thanks, Harry,” George whispered. Harry nodded and slipped quietly out of the dressing room. He saw Ginny standing in the vestibule, gazing up at a stained glass window, the light reflecting in a multicoloured rainbow off her hair. “You look beautiful,” Harry said softly. Ginny spun around, smiling. “Really?” “Yeah,” Harry nodded. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “George … needs you. I have to go but I’ll see you later.” His heart beat erratically in his chest as Ginny’s hands rested on his shoulders lightly. He bent his head to kiss her softly and she wound her hands into his hair and pulled him close, nudging his mouth open and curling her tongue around his. Harry’s hands roamed up Ginny’s back and he felt like he was floating. “Oi! Potter!” Ron called from the steps of the church. “Do that later!” Harry crashed back to earth scowling at Ron who just grinned. Harry rolled his eyes as Ginny giggled. He pulled away from her reluctantly. “I’ll see you later,” Harry said, squeezing her hand one last time and he stepped out into the blustery weather. Ron, Bill and Charlie were waiting on the steps for him. “Must you kiss her all the time?” Ron asked, shaking his head. Shoulders hunched against the cold, Harry just grinned. “You are so lucky it’s too cold to beat you up,” Charlie said. “Listen, forget about all that,” Ron said urgently. “We have to do something.” “Can we talk about it somewhere warm?” complained Charlie. “Yeah, you can go somewhere warm,” Ron said. “You and Bill go and get Angelina’s luggage and charm them shut or something, I don’t know, be creative. Me and Harry’ll go to the shop and grab some Canary Creams and a few other necessary items.” “We’re pranking him?” Bill asked. “We have to,” Ron said, “or Fred will never forgive us!” Bill grinned and Charlie shook his head in resignation. “C’mon, Charlie,” Bill said. “I can’t wait to get back the little blighter for the singing confetti!” Charlie raised his eyebrow at that but said nothing and the two of them Disapparated on the spot. ************* At half past three, when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived for the wedding they found Ginny and George talking to some of the guests in the church. Harry watched as Ginny smiled at some people who could only be Angelina’s family. She held George’s hand in her own and it was obvious to anyone who knew them both that she was his lifeline at that moment. Ginny’s laughter rang through the church and George smiled at her but it didn’t reach his eyes. Ginny kept greeting the guests, laughing and joking with them. George followed her almost silently. “She’s more like Fred than any of us,” said Bill from behind them. “I hope he’s all right …” “I am sure ‘ee weel be fine,” Fleur said softly. Harry turned around to see Audrey beaming at him. He smiled weakly. “Good afternoon, Harry,” Audrey said. “Erm, hi,” Harry answered and was prevented from further speech by Audrey suddenly running at conversation like a freight train. “It’s just wonderful!” she gushed. “I never thought in a million years that I’d be spending Christmas with you all. And this is so fabulous, a wedding! They are such wonderful, romantic events! I hope I’m dressed all right. I do so like to look my best. You’re looking very handsome, I must say and … who is your friend? This must be one of Ginny’s big brothers. I’ve heard so much about you!” “I’m, um … Ron.” “Oh, wonderful!” Audrey stepped towards Ron and extended a perfectly manicured hand. Ron shook it perfunctorily. “You’ve seen me before … at Hogwarts,” said Ron, raising his eyebrow at her. “Probably with me,” Hermione interrupted, laying a possessive hand on Ron’s arm. Audrey eyed Hermione for a moment before she turned to look at the church. “Such lovely flowers,” she said. “Whoever chose them must have simply exquisite taste.” “That would be me,” Percy said. He seemed to have come out of nowhere, which was entirely possible, his efficient clipboard held in front of him like a shield. “Well they are just delightful,” Audrey said, offering Percy her hand. “I’m Audrey, very pleased to meet you.” Percy eyed her hand for a moment before obviously deciding it would be the height of impropriety to refuse the handshake and he brought his hand out from behind his clipboard to grasp her hand in his. “Percy,” he said, swallowing hard and Harry noticed his handshake lingered a little longer than was strictly necessary. “I know Ginny from school,” Audrey said brightly, unaware of the flush creeping up Percy’s neck. “I think my sister knows you … from a study group. Oh, I know! You were Head Boy in second year!” “Ah … yes … I was, er, Head Boy in Ginny’s second year,” Percy said. “Well it’s lovely to see you again, just lovely,” Audrey said. Her gaze lingered at the front of the church where George and Ginny were standing, talking to the little wizard officiator. “I must confess, I don’t really know anyone and I was going to sit with Ginny, but it seems … well, is she standing up with George? That’s rather … unconventional.” “So is George,” said Percy wryly. “Yes, he and Fred were rather hard to miss,” Audrey said, not noticing the shadow that crossed Percy’s face and the way Ron shifted uneasily. “You didn’t have to be a Gryffindor to notice those two.” “Oh, so you’re not a Gryffindor then?” Percy asked, seizing on the topic that had nothing to do with Fred. “Oh no, I’m a Ravenclaw,” Audrey said, smiling. “I say, I think they are ready to start, shouldn’t we go and sit down?” “Oh, yes, right, sorry,” Percy moved his clipboard a little higher as Audrey tilted her head slightly. “Are you sitting with anyone Percy?” she asked. Percy shook his head wordlessly. “Oh, wonderful! You can sit with me!” Ron and Harry watched with amusement as Audrey plucked the clipboard from Percy’s grasp and set it carefully on the back pew before she slipped an arm through his. Percy, his face a brilliant red, showed Audrey to a seat before slipping into the pew beside her. “She has set her sights on him,” Bill murmured as he and Fleur made their way to the front. “He seems all right with it,” Ron muttered as they followed. Sliding into the pews, Harry looked up at George and Ginny. Ginny was talking animatedly to her brother and he was smiling slightly. Ginny reached up and smoothed his hair before she straightened the collar of his wedding robes. Predominantly yellow in colour, they made Harry think of Luna although the shimmering fabric and fine embroidery on them indicated they were probably African made. Ginny turned and gave Harry a wink. He smiled up at her. She looked just as beautiful as she had at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. The thick cloak and boots she had been encased in when she arrived at the church were gone. She wore a dark green dress that floated around her legs and her hair was piled on top of her head, exposing her slim neck. Harry leaned forward, his chin on his hand as he watched her. She and George had their heads bent together in a conspiratorial manner. She laughed and Harry felt his heart jump in his chest at the sound of it. Organ music began to swell somewhere from above them and Harry followed the rest of the assembled guests as they turned to watch Molly and Arthur as they walked down the aisle together. Molly was already clutching her white lacy handkerchief and sniffling, but her eyes shone with pride as well as tears and she hugged George before she sat down. Everybody stood up as the music changed. “Last chance,” Ginny said audibly, “ball and chain or bust.” She sounded uncannily like Fred and Ron snorted inelegantly. “Ginny!” Molly hissed as nervous laughter broke out. George’s face broke out into a wide grin, the first real smile anyone had seen on his face all day. “Let’s do it,” he said and then all eyes, including his, were on Angelina as she walked up the aisle with her parents. ****************** The occupants of the Burrow lazed around listlessly. Bill and Fleur were snogging in a corner of the living room, Ron and Hermione were bickering quietly in front of the fire and Molly and Arthur swayed slowly in a revolving circle in the middle of the room while Celestina Warbeck warbled from the wireless. Several empty eggnog cups were scattered across the room and a half eaten plate of mince pies sat haphazardly amongst the yellow feathers on the coffee table. Charlie was idly munching on one of them as he gazed at Harry and Ginny huddled together in one of the big squashy arm chairs. Harry rubbed Ginny’s feet absently, the heels she had been wearing all day in a heap on the floor. Ron grumbled something to Hermione and swiftly kissed her to silence her tirade about his ability to cram three mince pies in his mouth at once. “I’m a growing boy,” Ron mumbled as he pulled Hermione closer, “and … Mum made them. I’ve just come back from being chained up in a tomb; you’d think I’d get a little more sympathy …” “Oh, you poor baby,” Hermione crooned. “That’s more like it,” Ron said, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “It’s late and I should get going home to my parents,” Hermione said, sighing heavily. “I promised them I’d be there Christmas morning.” “You will be here later, won’t you dear?” Molly asked, her eyes closed and a dreamy smile on her face. “I already promised Gilbert I’d see him at Sirius House,” Hermione nodded, “so I’ll see you just after breakfast.” “It was a lovely wedding, wasn’t it?” Molly asked suddenly. “You did so well, Ginny dear.” “Not bad for someone who had no warning,” Ginny said. “I’m glad I don’t have to be anyone’s best man ever again.” “Who says?” Ron said. “Maybe you can be mine. That was a corker of a speech!” “No way,” Ginny said, shaking her head emphatically. “That’s Harry’s job … unless Hermione wants him for a bridesmaid.” “Oi!” Harry’s voice joined both Ron and Hermione’s in protest and Ginny just giggled madly. “Can you just imagine Auntie Muriel’s face?” said Bill. “Speaking of decrepit relatives,” Ron said, ignoring his mother’s disapproving frown, “I didn’t think Angelina’s great uncle was ever going to leave!” “He was having too much fun chasing that mistletoe,” Bill said, his arms still firmly around Fleur’s waist. “I still can’t believe he asked for a Canary Cream,” Charlie chuckled. “I wish that piece of the cake hadn’t gone to Angelina’s father,” Molly sighed. “He was a good sport about it,” Ron protested. “If you call hexing George being a good sport!” Bill retorted. “It was just a little hex …” Charlie said. “It was actually kinda funny,” Ron said, “giving him two left feet and casting Tarantallegra.” Charlie snorted and Ginny sniggered. “So what did you do to their suitcases. anyway?” Ginny asked Bill. “Oh … just a few little tricks I discovered-” There was a loud crack and suddenly a very blue George, sporting purple hair and smoking eyebrows was standing, shirtless in the middle of the room. “Oops … I didn’t mean to do anything to your eyebrows,” Bill said, trying to keep a straight face. “So it was you,” George said, hands on his hips. “Guilty,” Bill said with a grin. “The singing, edible underwear?” “Charlie.” “The love potion laced chocolate cauldrons?” “Harry.” “The flashing, neon newlyweds sign?” “Ron.” “Don’t tell me the belching toiletries were Percy’s idea?” George raised an eyebrow. “No, dear,” replied Molly. “That was me.” “Mum!” Bill exclaimed. George stared at her and Charlie laughed out loud. Molly shrugged and winked. “Are you sure you’re all right, George?” Arthur asked. George nodded wordlessly before he threw himself at Bill and hugged him. Fleur got caught up in it and ineffectually patted at George’s still smoking eyebrows. “I just wanted to say thanks,” George said quietly. “No problem,” Bill said, ruffling the purple hair. “All of you,” George said turning around. “I — I couldn’t have made it through the day without you and … and I’m sorry I said you were ignoring Fred. I know it’s … it’s not easy but … thanks.” “Oh, Georgie,” Molly said, engulfing him in a hug. He hugged her back and then he gave them all a crooked little grin and a wink. “I’d better get back to my wife,” he said, his chest puffed out a little with pride at the words. “I think she was planning to open the champagne and … well ….” George Disapparated with a loud crack, leaving behind a small plume of smoke from his eyebrows. “I do not zink he is expecting what Percy did to zee champagne …” Fleur said idly. “Percy?” Bill raised his eyebrows at her. “I saw ‘eem doing something to ze champagne we gave zem to take,” Fleur explained. “Doing something?” Ron seemed to be exploring the words as if the notion was foreign, which it probably was if it involved Percy playing a prank. “I said to ‘eem, what have you done?” Fleur giggled. “But I do not know what ‘ee has done. ‘Ee would not tell me.” “Where is Percy anyway?” Charlie asked, summoning another mince pie lazily. “Haven’t seen him in some time,” Arthur answered. “He finally left me alone once I gave that speech,” Ginny sighed. “Audrey stopped pestering me about three hours ago. Maybe they are off somewhere plotting to drive me mad?” “Maybe they are off somewhere …” Charlie said, a slow grin stealing across his features. He got to his feet and padded to the kitchen door stealthily. He listened at the door for a moment. “I can’t hear anything.” “You don’t even know if they are in there,” Ron scoffed. Charlie pushed the door open and poked his head around. “Oh,” he said. “They’re in there.” He beckoned Ron to the door. Grumbling, Ron lumbered to his feet and pushed the door open to peer into the kitchen. The expression on his face when he turned around was priceless. “They’re … he’s … she’s kissing him!” “Really?” asked Bill. Ron nodded. Ginny leapt to her feet suddenly, pulling Harry with her. “I don’t believe this,” she said. “Let me see.” Bill followed them and they both peered into the kitchen. Harry was unable to see past them but he didn’t even try. The look on Ginny’s face afterwards was thunderous. “It actually looks like he’s kissing her,” Bill said dispassionately. They pulled their heads back and let the door swing shut silently. “That little …” Ginny floundered for words. “She … why … that’s just … she’s …” “A scarlet woman?” Ron grinned at her and Ginny scowled. “Going to make my life a misery,” she grumbled. “I’m going to bed.” She stomped over to collect her shoes and began muttering. “Can’t believe she has to stay in my room tonight, better not follow me … I’ll hex anyone who comes in there …” Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek perfunctorily and stomped up the stairs muttering the whole time. Her family watched her, bemused. “Hear that, Potter?” Charlie said. “She’ll hex anyone who goes in there …” Harry rolled his eyes while Ron sniggered. ********************* W hen Harry awoke on Christmas morning it was not, as he expected, to the soft kisses of a certain red-head. Instead he was subjected to the excited bouncing of a much larger, louder one. Harry pulled his pillow over his head. “C’mon Harry!” said Ron excitedly. “Get up, it’s Christmas and there’s presents!” “Go’way,” Harry mumbled from under his pillow. He’d slept in George’s old room, no — he’d slept in his own room — and had been having a rather lovely dream without the background of snoring that usually accompanied his dreams when he slept in the same room as Ron. “You are such a lazybones,” Ron muttered, pulling Harry’s bedclothes off and snatching his pillow. Harry rolled over and moaned, squinting up at Ron. “How early is it anyway?” Harry snapped, grabbing at the bedclothes now tangled around his legs. “It’s only a few minutes before six,” Ron said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “C’mon. If we don’t hurry there won’t be time for breakfast before we go to see the kids.” “Fine,” Harry grumbled and gave up trying to pull the blankets back up to his neck, letting his head fall back on the mattress with a thud. He jumped as something soft and crinkly landed on his chest with a soft thump. “Hurry up, put it on, let’s go!” Harry raised his head to look at the lumpy package on his chest. He felt a smile tug at his mouth when he realised it was his Weasley jumper. “Breakfast,” Ron whined from the doorway. Harry laughed and scrambled off the bed, tearing open the parcel and pulling out a soft, green jumper that he pulled over his head. “How do I look?” Harry asked, throwing his arms wide and smirking. “You look stupid,” Ron said flatly. “It doesn’t match your pyjamas and your hair’s a mess.” “Why don’t you go down and I’ll meet you there,” Harry said, laughing. “Let me get properly dressed, yeah?” Ron grumbled but retreated. Harry heard him stomping down the stairs as he pulled the jumper off and began searching for shirt and a pair of trousers. He had managed to get as far as his shirt and trousers and was pulling his jumper back on when he heard a soft voice from the doorway. “Oh, still wrapping my present I see?” Ginny said. Harry smiled as she came inside. “I was just about to put myself under the tree.” “Oh no, you don’t,” Ginny said. “That’s one present I need to open … elsewhere. You should put it on my pillow.” She smirked. “I think I can manage that …” Harry bent his head to kiss her and she slid her arms around his neck. “Happy Christmas,” he breathed against her lips as he pulled her close. She tasted of mint and smelled like flowers and Harry was dimly aware of a groan as he wound his fingers into her hair. “Mum’s holding breakfast, waiting for you!” Ron’s grumpy voice broke through. “I thought you were coming down, not snogging up here. It’s probably a good thing I came up when I did. Who knows what else you might get up to-” “Ron,” Ginny said warningly, giving her brother a cold look. Ron glared at her. “Yeah … erm Merry Christmas,” said Harry into the frosty silence. “Breakfast …” Ron just grunted and turned to head down the stairs. Harry turned to Ginny who was scowling at Ron’s retreating back. “Git,” she muttered decisively. “Um, Ginny, did I miss something?” Harry asked slowly. “He’s been in my ear about … never mind,” Ginny said with a sigh. She plastered a smile on her face and tugged on Harry’s hand. “Let’s go down for breakfast. Mum said we can open our presents before we go to Sirius House.” Harry followed Ginny downstairs, frowning at the back of her head. Audrey was sitting at one end of the table, dressed impeccably in a blinding white cardigan with her hands folded neatly in her lap. “Merry Christmas dears,” Molly sang as she levitated a plate of bacon towards the table. “Merry Christmas, Mum,” Harry said softly. Molly beamed at him, ignoring the silent war Ron and Ginny were waging with frosty glares and icy looks. “How did you sleep, Audrey, dear?” Molly asked, loading her plate with bacon and toast. “Very well thank you, Mrs Weasley,” Audrey replied, looking askance at the mountain of food on her plate. Harry reached over and scooped half of the food onto a plate and set it firmly in front of Ginny who had begun a harshly whispered conversation with Ron filled with hissing and finger pointing. Audrey shot Harry a grateful look as and shifted uncomfortably as Ron grunted audibly and muttered something about improper public displays. “Oh that’s rich,” Ginny hissed suddenly. “You-” “Don’t bring up Lavender,” Ron whispered harshly. “Oh, I don’t need to,” Ginny retorted with no small degree of triumph. “You just did it for me.” “Toast, Gin?” Harry asked pointedly. “You never call me Gin,” said Ginny, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Well, he probably didn’t have time to get the rest of the word out with you raving on,” Ron muttered. ‘”I wasn’t raving,” Ginny snapped. “You were the one who was complaining about Harry and me-” “When?” Ron demanded. “All the time!” Ginny shouted. “You sent me a Howler and I ended up in detention!” “Detention?” Ron asked quietly. “You are having a go at me because you got detention when your little stunt got me kidnapped?” “Oh, don’t be melodramatic,” Ginny said. “It’s not like you aren’t fine now.” “I could have died!” “Ronald!” Molly gasped. “I could have!” Ron insisted. “Anyway, it’s her fault for messing with Harry’s head!” “No one messed with my head,” Harry said quietly. Ginny ignored Harry as she glared at Ron. “What would you know about it anyway?” “I’m not an idiot,” Ron growled. “Never said you were,” Ginny said. “But the only head you’ve messed with is probably your own.” Ginny folded her arms smugly across her chest and sat back in her chair. “Ginny,” Molly said warningly as the tips of Ron’s ears went red. “I don’t mess with people’s heads, because I don’t seduce them and then abandon them at the first hint of gossip!” “Good for you, Ronnikins!” George called cheerfully as he sauntered into the kitchen from the living room. “Where did you come from?” Ron grumbled. “Well you see, Ron, when a man and a woman love each other-” “I did not abandon anyone!” Ginny said hotly, ignoring George and the hand Harry placed on her arm. “It’s none of your business what goes on between me and Harry! You should keep your nose out of it!” “She’s right,” George said, slipping into the chair next to Audrey and snatching a rasher of bacon from Ron’s plate. “Thank you, George,” said Ginny smugly. “That’s really Bill’s job,” George said as he stole the toast from Ginny’s plate. “Your job is to stick up for Harry, here. It’s in the sub clauses of the Weasley Brotherly Affection Act. Bill’s the oldest so he gets to interrogate all of Ginny’s suitors. Your deal is to ensure Harry is armed with any and all information required for successful engagement with Weasley females including but not limited to how to avoid Mum’s wrath, successful pilfering of fresh scones and hiding when there’s work to be done. You should leave noses in Ginny’s business to Bill. He is the only one who can come out of it without her breaking it.” “What are you doing here?” Ginny asked George pointedly, now scowling at both of her brothers. “Breakfast,” George said simply. “Christmas morning breakfast.” “Angelina wanted to spend the first day of her honeymoon having breakfast with her in-laws at the crack of dawn?” Ron asked sceptically. George shrugged and picked up Harry’s fork and speared a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “Don’t worry,” George said to Audrey, who was looking at him with trepidation. “You’re not family, your breakfast is safe.” “Thanks, George, taking my food makes me feel right at home,” Harry said dryly. George’s face fell. “I didn’t — I’m sorry … I just-” “Do I need to send you a Howler as well?” Ron scowled at George. “Taking a man’s breakfast, as if he didn’t already do enough for you …” “What are you, anyway?” Ginny asked Ron grumpily. “Harry Potter’s personal defender and knight in shining armour?” “Someone’s gotta look after him,” Ron mumbled. “Erm, Ron, I think you missed the part where I can take care of myself,” Harry said, rather annoyed. He glared at Ron as he gulped at his pumpkin juice. “No offence mate, but you get into an awful lot of trouble-” Harry sprayed the juice across the table, making Audrey jump as a large splotch of juice landed on her arm. She frowned at Harry, scrubbing ineffectively at her sleeve with a serviette. “I have not been in any trouble all year!” Harry cried plaintively. “How many times have you been in the hospital wing then?” Molly asked tartly. Harry sighed. “But none of that was my fault,” he whined. Molly sniffed and handed George a plate. “Ginny,” Ron said quietly. “It’s just … I … Harry’s been my best mate for nearly eight years and …” “I’m not going to hurt him, Ron,” Ginny said. The kitchen had grown quiet and Harry shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have to watch his back any more.” “Isn’t it cute, Harry,” George said with a smirk, “they’re fighting over you.” Harry eyed George stonily but it seemed nothing could dampen George’s good mood and he hummed merrily as he poured himself a drink, oblivious to the tension lingering over the table. Harry opened his mouth to say something, although he didn’t know what, but at that moment Arthur walked in with Angelina. “Look what I found under the Christmas tree,” Arthur said brightly, pulling out a chair for her. “I got me a new daughter for Christmas!” Arthur dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he patted her on the shoulder before he moved to Ginny, doing the same. Angelina smiled shyly and Ginny grinned at her. The rest of the kitchen was soon filled as Bill and Fleur came down stairs followed closely by Charlie. Percy arrived at the Burrow a few minutes later and Harry watched with amusement as George and Ron subtly shifted seats so that he had to sit next to Audrey. The girl beamed at Percy who shuffled his feet nervously for a moment before he leaned down and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek. Percy sat amidst a cacophony of catcalls and whistles but he smiled sheepishly as his ears turned pink. It wasn’t long before the last plate was cleared and Ron was shifting in his seat restlessly. “Why do we have to have them all under the tree this year?” he complained. “What’s wrong with opening them first thing? Isn’t everyone ready yet?” “I told you, young man,” Molly said, “it’s because we have to wait for people to arrive and this is the way we do it now.” “We only had to wait for Percy,” Ron grumbled. Catching his mother’s eye, he didn’t say anything else. “Well, I believe we have something waiting for us under the tree and someones waiting for us in London,” Arthur said briskly. “Switch on the wireless, my dear, let’s have some music with our presents!” Celestina Warbeck wafted from the wireless in the corner as the Weasleys settled down in the living room to pass out the presents under the tree. Harry sat placidly watching as a sea of brightly wrapped packages sailed around him and Ron tore into the paper, scattering it across the room haphazardly. Words of gratitude rang out and Fleur squealed excitedly over something pink and fluffy. A heavy package wrapped in red paper covered in fluttering golden Snitches whacked Harry in the chest and landed with a thump in his lap. “Oi! Wake up, Potter!” Ron called cheerily, a bright orange scarf trailing from one hand and a package of Bertie Botts in the other. “Can’t sit there all day!” Harry grinned at Ron and tore open the paper on the gift. He smiled as he revealed a solid wooden frame that held both the Muggle Polaroid and the wizarding photograph of his parents’ engagement. Harry searched the room for Ginny who was standing in front of Angelina. As if she could feel his eyes on her, Ginny turned suddenly in his direction and raised and eyebrow. Harry smiled and mouthed ‘Thank you’. Ginny’s eyes shone and she blushed slightly before shrugging one shoulder casually. Harry looked back down at the carefully crafted frame and knew she’d made it herself. The carved, wooden ivy wound itself around the edge drunkenly and the tiny broomsticks that crossed in the middle were slightly crooked. He traced the carvings with a fingertip and watched as his father slid an arm around his mother’s waist in the wizarding photo with his grandparents in it. “Your grandparents,” Arthur said softly, “and your mum and dad.” “It’s their engagement photographs.” Harry nodded. “A Muggle one,” Arthur noted. “I think they must have been at my grandparents’ for Christmas,” Harry said, eying the sparkling jewel on his mother’s finger. “I mean my other grandparents, the Muggle ones.” “Ah, yes that would explain the non-moving picture,” Arthur nodded gravely. “My cousin found that one at Godric’s Hollow,” Harry said quietly. “I heard Dedalus agreed to take your aunt and cousin there,” Arthur replied, watching Harry trace the carvings on the edge of the frame. “Ginny found this one in our vault,” Harry said, indicating the moving wizarding photograph. “They must have left the Muggle things in the house,” Arthur mused, staring into the fire. “They …?” Harry gazed at Arthur, confused, not understanding what the other man meant. “The Ministry,” Arthur said absently. “The Minister then was … Molly, was Walpole the Minister in eighty-one?” “No, no it was Marchant, wasn’t it?” Molly said, frowning, a new silver hat perched jauntily on her head. “Not eighteen eighty-one,” Arthur said, waving a hand dismissively, “nineteen eighty-one.” “Watford,” Molly said decisively, “definitely Watford.” “I could have sworn it was Walpole,” Arthur mused. “But what did he do?” Harry asked, leaning forward, feeling a bit desperate to steer the conversation back to the subject of the house at Godric’s Hollow. “Well …” Arthur scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking very uncertain. “After … afterwards they sent someone to … clean up and pack away the, ah … things in the house.” “My parents’ things?” Harry asked. Molly nodded. Harry fell silent, thinking. They must have put everything into the vault and it had been there ever since. “There was a terrible scandal after Sirius was caught,” Arthur continued quietly. “Dumbledore made it very public that you were safe in an undisclosed location but there was quite a carry-on about people being able to go to the house so the Ministry put up wards and cleaned it out before it could be looted.” “But the Muggle photos were still there,” Ginny interrupted. The living room had fallen silent and Harry knew all eyes were on him and he gazed unseeing at the edge of the frame in his hands. “Dudley found them at … the house.” “I expect they weren’t important enough,” Molly said gently. “They would have only moved the wizard things.” “I didn’t know any of it still existed,” Harry said quietly. “Not the house or the photos — any of it.” He suddenly felt confined. He didn’t know if he wanted to scream or cry or laugh with relief but he knew he didn’t want to do it in front of everyone. Holding onto the last shred of his composure, Harry scrambled to his feet. “I didn’t mean-” “It’s fine, Ginny,” Harry said quickly, cutting her off. “I’m just — I need to … I’ll see you all at Sirius House.” Harry backed out of the living room hurriedly, still clutching the frame. He was aware that the Weasleys were staring at him and Ginny looked horrified, but he needed to get out. As he stumbled through the kitchen he began to regret his hasty departure and he sank into one of the chairs at the table, Ginny’s gift landed with a thunk on the table as he put his head into his hands. It was an odd time to have a reaction to … things, Harry thought dimly as he heard the kitchen door creak open. “You all right, mate?” Ron asked softly. Harry looked up. Ron was shuffling his feet near the door, looking uncertain. “I just … I don’t know,” Harry answered. “It’s bloody Christmas and I’m behaving like … like — Ginny must think I’m a complete arse.” Harry sighed heavily. “I think you just took us all by surprise,” Ron said. “You don’t normally have a reaction to … well … that …” “You just haven’t seen it,” Harry said quietly, staring out of the window. Ron moved across the kitchen quietly and sat down next to Harry. Maybe Ron and Ginny had come to a sort of truce because it surprised Harry that it had been Ron that came after him and not Ginny. “I saw it all — that night,” Harry said, taking a deep breath. “He showed me everything, in my head. There was a pram, my pram … never really thought about it before. They must have gone out together and chosen it, before I was born. I think it just hit me, you know. They had things and I never really knew what sort of things, what they liked and their favourite colours; that sort of stuff.” “Mum’s favourite colour is blue,” Ron said absently. “I guess I sort of take that for granted.” “You should be able to,” Harry said heavily, pushing back his chair. “I need … I’m just going for a walk. I’ll come back in a better mood, I promise.” Harry turned, reaching for the back door knob. He felt a hand on his arm. “We don’t care what your mood is,” Ron said. “I know,” Harry smiled at Ron sadly. “But …” “We’ll meet you at Sirius House,” Ron said, releasing Harry’s arm. There was understanding in his eyes, understanding Harry didn’t think Ginny would even have had. “I won’t be long,” Harry replied, slipping out the door. Once outside Harry began to wonder where he thought he was going and he started running, his feet sliding through the slushy track that led down to the gate. Suddenly he found himself Apparating, not even thinking about it. For one wild moment Harry spun, disoriented on the spot, shivering, wishing he’d thought to bring his cloak, the snow flurries around him whirled and fluttered as he stood, staring at the dilapidated sign in front of the place in Godric’s Hollow where his parents had been murdered. Harry put a hand out, touching the sign, revealing the graffiti on it and he noticed there was a new layer of brightly coloured writing. Harry felt the band constricting his heart loosen as he read and warmth flooded through him. He looked up at the house and his mind’s eye banished the run down, dilapidated appearance, bathing the little cottage in spring sunshine and he knew they’d been happy. It was something he didn’t have evidence for he just knew. Harry smiled slightly and released the sign before turning to walk back along the street and to the tiny town square. He hunched his shoulders around his ears and cast a warming charm that made the cold bearable. The early morning light was dim and Harry could barely make out the large obelisk that hid the statue commemorating his first defeat of Voldemort. He didn’t linger there but carried on, his feet taking him to the graveyard where he wandered slowly towards the place where his parents lay, surrounded by their dearest friends. Snow capped the tops of the headstones and Harry paused, wishing he’d brought flowers. Now that he was here, he didn’t know why he’d come, he stared at the memorial headstone for Sirius and sighed heavily. “Happy Christmas,” he said softly. “I’ve been thinking … well not that long really, I sort of came here by accident.” Harry grimaced and began pacing. “I must have meant to, I just didn’t know I meant to. Now I’m babbling, the five of you must think I’m a complete idiot. I promise Teddy’ll learn not to babble.” Harry stared at Tonks’s name, thinking of his godson. Teddy was crawling all over the place now and pulling up onto chairs and other furniture, trying to stand. “He’s doing really good,” Harry said, feeling the need to say something that wouldn’t sound utterly stupid. “Well, I mean … he’s doing really well. Got teeth, likes to bite, can’t do anything about that though, sorry Remus.” Harry grinned, remembering the last time Teddy had latched onto his finger and nearly drawn blood. “Fine set of choppers … he’s a fine kid, really and … I’m lucky to have him in my life, I reckon, like Ginny ... she’s the best. We … I’m going to marry her one day. I think she already knows that. She’s brilliant and beautiful and sexy.” Harry turned to his parents’ headstones. He sighed heavily. “I wish you could meet her,” he said softly. “I wish she could meet you. She might not want to any more, though. She gave me a brilliant Christmas present; made it herself and everything. And I ended up flipping out and leaving when it made me think of … you. She probably thinks I’m a complete idiot.” “No she doesn’t,” Ginny’s soft voice broke into his thoughts and Harry swung around to see her standing in the snow, wearing the emerald green cloak he’d put under the Christmas tree for her. His own cloak filled her arms and she held it out to him mutely. Harry put it on and just stared at her. “I’m sorry,” Harry said eventually. “I just — I felt sort of … it was …” “It’s a lovely cloak,” Ginny blurted, “really warm and I love the colour.” She blushed spectacularly and swore under her breath. “Mum, Dad — this is Ginny.” Harry felt a slow smile spread over his face and Ginny giggled. Harry reached for her hand and tugged her close, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his forehead against hers. Ginny reached up to press a kiss to his lips. “Done being maudlin?” she asked him lightly. “Yeah,” Harry breathed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened; I just felt so …” “Emotional?” Ginny asked. “I guess,” Harry sighed. “Happens to the best of us,” Ginny quipped. “How’d you know I was here?” “Ron … he …” Ginny bit her bottom lip. “He knew. I think he knows you best.” “It’s not a competition,” Harry said softly. “I know!” Ginny cried twisting out of his grip. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair, knocking the hood of her cloak askew. “We had ... words this morning — before you got up.” “What about?” Harry prompted. “I thought he was jealous because we’ve slept together,” Ginny said bluntly. “But he was worried because you haven’t talked to him about it and he’s worked himself up into all sorts of bother over it. He doesn’t know how you feel and he’s worried I might hurt you and he feels like … like he can’t protect you.” “I can’t talk to your brother about that!” Harry gaped at her. “He’d kill me if I tried!” “Well, I don’t think he wants details,” Ginny said dryly. Harry didn’t say anything. Ginny sighed. “The children will be wondering where we are.” “Yeah,” Harry said softly. He gazed at Ginny. “He’s my best mate.” “I know,” Ginny said softly, reaching up to brush the hair away from his face. “He took your presents to Sirius House for you.” Harry smiled as he pulled her close and kissed her before Apparating them both to the steps at Grimmauld Place. |
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