Chapter 19
Write and Wrong
“Hey, wake up!”
It was the first vaguely recognizable noise he had heard this morning. Harry had spent a good portion of the late night hours reliving the finer moments of a particularly happy Christmas.
“Go away, Ron.” He mumbled into his pillow, rolling over onto his stomach and pulling the quilt higher over his head in a feeble attempt to hide himself from further prodding.
Yet another unintelligible noise encouraged him to get up.
“No.” He groaned and buried his head underneath his pillow, but no sooner had Harry found refuge, he was struck upside the head.
Bracing for another attack, he propped himself up away from his assailant and used his forearm as a shield, blocking another blow. Reaching around, Harry grabbed hold of the pillow, jerked it free and blindly through it back over his shoulder. ‘Ron’s gonna pay for that.' He thought to himself. Harry knew that he connected with his intended target when he heard a ‘thud’ on the wood floor, what he wasn’t expecting was the ‘squeak’ that came next and a mind full of Ginny.
“Good morning to you too!” Ginny hoisted herself up off the floor, chucking the pillow back at Harry who was sitting up in bed, looking more disheveled than usual. “Is that how you treat-“
“What? You’re the one beating me before I even make it out of bed. You could have warned me, you know, a tap on the shoulder or…” Harry bit back, he was trying his best to be grumpy after having just been so rudely awakened, but was having a hard time keeping a straight face. As far as he was concerned, Ginny could chuck pillows at him every morning. “How do I treat my what?”
“Never mind.” Ginny scowled and fastened her hair back up into the comb.
“Where’s Ron?” Harry was forming a plan.
“Downstairs, probably writing Hermione again.” Ginny plopped down on her brothers unmade bed.
“Your mum and dad?”
“Downstairs too.” Ginny’s eyes rolled up to the left, mentally checking the last time she had seen them.
“Fred and George?” Harry asked the whereabouts of the last two Weasley family members who needed to be accounted for.
“Out.” Ginny shrugged, “At least I think so, it’s been quiet and the only way that happens is when their either scheming, in beginning stages of course... otherwise there would be explosions, foul odors, or some other tell-tale sign of them, or they’ve simply left the premise.”
“What time is it?” It had finally dawned on Harry that the sun was no longer streaming through the small attic window as it did every other morning, but higher overhead in the sky.
Ginny giggled, “Almost eleven thirty, come to think of it, mum’s probably in the kitchen fixing lunch.” Harry flipped the covers off and swung his legs around to the edge of the bed, one of his pant legs had rolled halfway up his calf, Ginny watched him as he leaned over to fix it. “What’s with all the questions?”
“Just checking.” He shrugged, stood up and edged towards the open door.
“For what?” Ginny gave him an odd look and followed him, poking her head around the jamb to get a look down the hall and the floors below.
Deciding that the coast was clear, Harry leaned over and pecked Ginny on the cheek. “For that.”
“Oh.” Ginny blushed, “for that.”
“Well, you asked how I uh....” Harry was stumbling on his own words, he had never asked Ginny anything, and was finding that right now, in the hall, in his pajamas, and suffering from a bad case of morning breath, wasn’t quite the time or place.
“I’ll see you downstairs.” She smiled and bounded down them, stopping briefly on the first landing to holler back, making sure that the whole house heard, “We’ve got dishes to do, Potter. Breakfast and lunch... lots and lots of dishes.”
Dishes was the new, unspoken password that meant he and Ginny would have some time alone, well, as much as they could be alone in a house full of people, and even that, as last night is was a prime example, had it’s risks. Harry shuffled back into the room, picked out fresh clothes and then shuffled his way down to the loo, all the while grateful that Ron, though he did interrupt them last night, was clueless that he had just kissed his sister. He had hoped that the rest of the Weasley family was just as clueless, in no way was he ready to invoke that wrath of six brothers and her parents, at least just not yet.
When he had finally made it downstairs, he found Ron laying on the couch with his legs kicked up over the arm, reading yet another letter. Harry thought to he’d give Ron a warning cough.
“Morning.”
“Oh, there you are.” Ron folded his letter, rolling onto his side to tuck it into his back pocket. “Nice to see you made it up before noon.”
“I was going for a record.” Harry stretched and yawned, “What’s the plan for today?”
Ron got up and headed for the kitchen. “Eat, fly, eat, fly some more, eat, lie around doing nothing... then eat and sleep. It’s a full day, we’ll be lucky to get it all done.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Harry laughed and pushed open the door.
The smell of food reminded him of exactly how hungry he was, Mrs. Weasley, anticipating his empty stomach, had already set out a plate for him and the rest of her children.
“Good afternoon.” Mrs. Weasley smiled, setting a large pitcher of pumpkin juice on the table. “Have a good lie in?”
“Yep, I woke up quite refreshed.” Harry shot a look at Ginny, who had taken the seat next to his.
“Fred, George, and Arthur should be here any moment, they just had a few errands to run.” Mrs. Weasley took her seat at the end of the table. “Have you heard from Hermione, Ron?”
“Yeah.” Ron did not divulge any more information than that.
“Did she say when she would be joining us?”
“New Years Eve day.” His answer was straight and to the point.
“Well, we’d love to have her sooner, wouldn’t we Ginny?” His mother took a sandwich off the serving plate and poured herself a glass. “Another girl in the house would be fun.”
“I don’t think she can get away early.” He said, Harry watched as Ron slunk lower into his chair, clearly disappointed by the subject. He knew that Ron had written to Hermione at least twice a day since they’ve returned to the Burrow and that she had written back just as many times, each letter had been sent or delivered by Hedwig with no sign of Pig, Ron’s exuberant owl.
Harry couldn’t wait until lunch was over and he and Ginny would have some time alone, however, much to his chagrin, it didn’t happen. After they had cleared the table, Mrs. Weasley magiked two extremely full baskets of clean laundry onto it and proceeded to start folding- by hand.
Ginny took up her position at the rinse side of the sink, and as usual, Harry washed. He found the he was better at the single task of washing than trying to manage the rest of it. They went about their business in silence, at least to Mrs. Weasley’s ears. He and Ginny were carrying on a full conversation of their own, mostly about Ginny’s method of waking people, although Ginny brought up her frustrations that her mother would not leave the room. Harry thought it best to stay out of that one. At one point, Ginny snorted aloud at her own plan to set off one of Fred and George’s fireworks. ‘It worked for Umbridge’.
Suddenly and most unexpectedly, Harry felt a sharp, single stab of pain. He took a quick breath and jerked his hand out of the water. No sooner had it begun, the pain stopped. Feeling that Ginny and Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were on him, he lowered his hand back into the water and resumed washing, thinking that if he acted like nothing happened, they’d forget about it. It was a long shot, he knew, but it was the only thing he could think of.
“Did you cut yourself?” Mrs. Weasley asked, dropping a half-folded pair of Mr. Weasley’s slacks on the table before hurrying over to the sink, stepping in between him and Ginny. “Here, let me see.”
Reluctantly, Harry pulled both of his hands out of the water and set them into hers. “See, I’m fine.”
“Hmm.” She looked them over, front to back, before letting go, deciding that they were indeed fine.
He looked to Ginny and shrugged it off, hoping that she wouldn’t question him.
“You know, it’s not wise to put sharp knives into the wash if you can’t see them.” Mrs. Weasley resumed to her laundry.
“We know Mum.” Ginny said, still eyeing Harry. “The knives are still on the counter.”
He had made it clear to Ginny that he didn’t want to talk about it, and blocked her from using their bond, feeling that it was the best thing to do for the moment. They continued on, this time with deafening silence.
“You know, you two are the slowest dishwashers I know.” Mrs. Weasley said.
“We’re professional’s, Mum.” Ginny answered smugly, surprising Harry, who assumed that she would be in a right foul state.
“Professionals now, are you?” Mrs. Weasley chuckled.
“Harry, you missed a spot.” Ginny took the last plate he had washed, which was perfectly clean by the way, and handed it back to him. “We’re thorough, not slow.”
“Oops, you’re right.” Harry was getting better at picking up on her cues. “Inspects every dish, she’s quite picky you know.” He added as an afterthought to Mrs. Weasley.
“My Ginny, picky?” She laughed, matching a pair of black socks. “Because I can recall on more than one occasion that little Ginny here, would run around the house in nothing but her knickers and her fathers socks, proclaiming that she was ready to go to town.”
Harry turned around to see her mother dangling pea green plaid socks in each hand and then back to Ginny who had gone flaming red and took a renewed interest in putting the now dry dishes away.
“I was three, Mum.” Ginny rolled her eyes and returned to the sink slightly less red.
Not paying her daughter any mind, Mrs. Weasley continued. “I would try to get her dressed, but by the time I would get Ron ready, keep the twins under control, pull Percy’s nose from his book- luckily Charlie and Bill were old enough to mind- anyway, she would have stripped back down to-“
“Mum, really!” Ginny groaned, but her mother kept on going much to Harry’s delight. He rather enjoyed hearing Mrs. Weasley recount moments from Ginny’s younger years, he found the thought of three year old Ginny running around practically starkers rather funny and would have to be sure to remind her of it.
“Oh!” Mrs. Weasley, evidently, was still able to hit that twitter he knew girls were capable of, having reached that point where you couldn’t get her to stop if you to. “And you should have seen the way she would come in, covered from head to toe in mud, sap in her hair from climbing trees... You would not believe how many times we would sit at this very table, trying every potion, spell, and lotion to remove it.” “--Mum! ”” Another futile attempt from her daughter that was ignored. “She would fuss and say that she’d rather live with the sap than to sit there any longer.”
“Mother!” Ginny was doing her best to sound polite, “Harry doesn’t want to hear about me, socks, mud, and tree sap. You’re boring him to death, honestly.”
Quite contrary to what Ginny thought, Harry wanted to hear more. He didn’t find it hard to believe, after all, he had seen her covered in mud and soaked to the bone on multiple occasions and found that he rather liked the look.
Mrs. Weasley continued on, despite Ginny’s pleas to stop, this time going on in length about the time she had found her hiding under the stairs in her knickers again, and with a quill in hand, marking lines up her arms, legs, and across her tummy and chest. Apparently, Fred and George had told her that it was a fun game that Muggles played and that Dad would be so happy to find out that she knew how to play too.
“Connect the dots?” Harry asked Ginny, fit to burst with laughter, “they told you to play connect the dots with your freckles?”
Laughing in return, Ginny replied, “Yeah, they did. But they got in so much trouble.”
“Yes, they did.” Mrs. Weasley finished up the laundry, laying the last jumper on the heaping basket before magically directing it and the second out the door. “And that was the last time they did that....” Mrs. Weasley turned back before leaving, shaking her head in amusement, “at least for a few days... should have known those two would convince Ron to do the same thing!”
Finally with some privacy, Harry leaned over and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, followed by her chin and her ear.
“What are you doing?” Ginny stepped back, clearly bewildered by his actions.
“Connecting the dots.” He smiled, then not wasting anymore time, snogged her properly before they could be interrupted.
Harry, Ron, and Ginny had spent the next couple of days lounging around the house, a snowstorm had rolled in and practice was out of the question. Mrs. Weasley refused to let them out flying unless she could see them, protective wards or not. So, time was filled playing the usual games of Exploding Snap, Chess, and even Gobstones. Ginny, always thinking, suggested on more than one occasion to play hide and seek like they had during their stay this summer. Only this time, Ginny had a knack of finding Harry first, which he had to reward her for her efforts.
Ron, Harry noticed, had become moodier by the letter whether he had received or written one, and his and Ginny’s attempts to lighten him up a bit went without success. Every time Hedwig could come back, Ron would snatch it away and retreat to his room or some other area of the house for some privacy. And every time, he’d return anxious and ill-tempered, but as much as he was concerned about Ron’s welfare and whatever problems he was having with Hermione, Harry was struggling with one of his own.
“I have some errands to run.” Mrs. Weasley hustled over to the pegboard, late the following the afternoon, and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders. “I won’t be long, you lot stay here and keep out of trouble.”
“Sure, Mum.” Ron called back, not taking his eyes off the chessboard. Harry, however, noticed that Mrs. Weasley seemed to be in a hurry to get to where ever it was she was going, and by catching the look on Ginny’s face, she was thinking the same thing too.
“Everything okay?” Ginny asked, looking up over her copy of Teen Witch.
“Oh, yes dear, everything is fine.” Mrs. Weasley pulled the collar out from around her neck. “I’ll be back in awhile.” And with that, she walked out the door.
Harry glanced back to Ginny who seemed less than pleased with her mother’s response.
“Hey, your turn.” Ron said, planning his next move.
“Oh yeah, sorry.” Harry turned his attention back to the game and half-heartedly pushed his last remaining pawn forward, sending it to it’s impending demise.
They continued on this way until there was a tap at the window.
“Hedwig’s here.” Ginny was the first to get up and let Harry’s snowy owl in.
She flew straight over to Ron, and dropped an envelope in his hands, then back out through the window.
“Where is she going?” Harry asked Ginny as she continued to watch out the window.
“Dad’s shed,” Ginny closed the sash, “I think she’s had enough.”
Harry got up off the floor and watched Ron hesitantly flip the letter over.
“Come on, Harry.” Ginny tossed him his cloak, “The snow’s let up a bit, let’s get some fresh air.”
“Yeah, sure.” Harry absently fastened it around his shoulders, all the while watching Ron.
“Yeah, okay.” Ron leaned back against the base of the chair, still looking at the letter.
“We’ll be back in a minute.” Harry eyed him once more before walking out the door behind Ginny.
When the door was shut and they had walked a few good paces away, Harry was the first to speak. “What do you think that’s about?”
“Dunno.” Ginny replied, taking hold of Harry’s arm.
“You don’t think they’re having a major row, do you?” He thought Ginny might have some answers.
“They’re always having some row or tiff.” She rolled her eyes, “That’s what Ron and Hermione do.”
“Humph” Harry responded, he wanted to believe that that it was all it was, but is gut was telling him something differently, what exactly, he couldn’t put his finger on.
They had made it to the garden gate, the snow had drifted so deep up against it that it was impossible to swing open, so Harry maneuvered over it first before helping Ginny, pulling her close to him as she hopped down off the rail. Taking the moment, while he had her so close, to kiss her again.
“So,” Ginny said as they resumed their walk. “Is it three or four times now?”
“What, that I’ve kissed you?” Harry pulled at a branch just above his head that was weighed down with snow and snapped it back, effectively dusting Ginny.
“Thanks, I needed that.” She said, brushing off her hair and shoulders. “And no, that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“More than four?” She asked again, this time with concern. It was enough that he now knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Three more, after Boxing Day.” Harry looked to the ground and sighed. “How did you know?”
“I know.” Ginny sounded slightly insulted, “Harry, I can tell when it happens. When you were playing chess with Ron the other day, you held your breath and shifted, the next time was at dinner when you ‘dropped’ your napkin on the floor. So when was the last?”
“Last night, in bed.” Harry admitted.
“What does He want?” She asked, stopping in her tracks and stepping around to face him.
“Nothing... I don’t know.” Harry shrugged, “It’s just... spikes. He’s happy and wants me to know it, he hadn’t tried anything until last night.”
“What did he do?” Ginny’s brown eyes were fixed on his.
“He tried to get in.” Harry nodded, “but I didn’t let him.”
“Why is he happy?” Ginny resumed to walk, tugging on Harry’s hand.
“Maybe all the attacks? There have been a lot of them lately, I suppose that’s why your Dad’s been busy.”
“And Mum’s a little stressed.” She added. “Something happened, that’s why she left in such a hurry and didn’t use the Floo.”
“I noticed that, too.”
“Maybe you should tell Lupin.” Ginny offered.
“Can’t, he’s a bit occupied at the moment, full moon and all.”
“Dumbledore?”
“Probably.” Harry thought more, “but it’s not like this is unexpected, it’s just started back up again.” This time it was Harry who stopped. “I’m sorry Gin, but I’m not sure what would happen if we were connected and I got... spiked.”
“I know.” Ginny reached up and kissed his cheek, “Always a gentleman.”
“You’re not mad?” He asked her.
“No, we’ve been through all that, I’m not mad and I completely understand.” Ginny again resumed to pull him along as she made her way to the hollow.
Ducking beneath the leafless and thorny rose vine, Harry sighed and let Ginny have her moment in the hollow, watching her brush the snow off the bench before taking a seat.
“We better get back, Ron will get suspicious and it’s starting to snow again.” Harry reminded her after five minutes.
“Get in here.” Brushed off the snow next to her. “We have to talk.”
Reluctantly, Harry did as he was told. “You’re Mum could be back at any moment.”
“Relax, Harry, we’re fine.” Ginny smiled, “We have a problem... well, I have a problem.”
“What’s that?” He had thought that they had already discussed the matter.
“I can’t let you keep snogging me.” She said matter-of-factly.
“What? Why?” Self-doubt crept in, maybe he was dreadful at kissing and she had been too polite to tell him before now. Feeling his stomach hit a new low, he waited for Ginny’s answer that never came.
“Uh...” Breaking the silence was easier at this point than keeping it. Looking towards the ground, too embarrassed to face her he said, “I’m horrible.”
“No, not at all.” Ginny giggled.
“Disgusting, repulsive, you would have a better time with the giant squid-“
“No, Harry.” Ginny took his hand, “It’s not that. I mean...”
Ginny went quiet.
Living up to his reputation of being a stupid git, Harry suddenly realized what she was trying to say as another one of her unfinished sentences popped into his mind.
“No, but I hope you don’t treat your boyfriends like that, or I’ll have to think twice about asking you to be my girlfriend.”
“Are you making it official?”
“Maybe.” Harry sighed loudly, getting up from the bench. “Like I said, I’ll have to think about it.”
He had been expecting her to say something cheeky in return as he turned to walk away, but that too never came. Harry had made it all the way to the entry and stopped just short of stepping through. “Ginny?”
Harry went back to the bench and stood in front of her, finding Ginny ignoring him and staring at the ground, the flecks of falling snow dotted her hair and cloak. “Gin?”
“Yeah, Harry.” Her demeanor had changed from playful to sullen.
“Gin, look at me.”
Slowly she raised her head to face him, he watched as the tiny snowflakes were caught on her eyelashes and brows.
“You can throw pillows at me whenever you’d like.” Harry pulled her up to him and loosely wrapped his arms around her petite waist, “You can shove a handful of suds in my face and call me a stupid git when I’m being one, which I need to hear it before I can go any further.”
Breaking the smile that Harry was hoping for, Ginny obliged him and whispered, “You’re a stupid git.”
“And remembering that I am, for the fifth time now, would you consider having this stupid git for a boyfriend even though he doesn’t deserve you?”
Harry never got a verbal answer and much preferred the non-verbal response. Ginny had thrown her arms around his neck and what followed after was all the confirmation he needed. And whether or not he had less talent than the squid, he returned with a non-verbal reply of his own.
“Ginevra Molly Weasley!”
Hearing Mrs. Weasleys voice crack through the silent falling snow was enough to make him and his new girlfriend, jump six feet apart.
“She’s back.” Ginny’s eyes popped wide open, she grabbed Harry’s hand and together they bolted out of the hollow and back towards the house to find Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway with her arms folded tightly across her chest.
“Enjoy your walk?” She asked, eyeing Harry first before Ginny.
“Yeah.” Ginny answered, “I needed some fresh air, didn’t Ron tell you where we were?’
“Yes, your brother told me where the two of you were.” Mrs. Weasley’s expression didn’t match the tone of her voice. “It’s getting dark, and I need your help with dinner, Ginny.”
“Yes, Mum.” Ginny followed her through the door, winking back at Harry before she disappeared behind it.
It was a quiet evening at the Burrow, Mr. Weasley and the twins were still out at their respective places of employment and Mrs. Weasley was not expecting them back any time soon. Later that night, Harry pinned down Ron, trying to get him to tell him and Ginny exactly what it was that was bothering him over the last few days.
“Out with it, Ron.” Ginny flopped down onto couch next to her brother.
“Yeah, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, sitting down in front of the fire.
“You two.” Harry was surprised at how easily Ron had answered.
“Harry and I?” Ginny asked, nervously looking back at Harry.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ron looked slightly hurt and disappointed.
“We’re sorry, Ron.” Harry looked up at his best mate, if this is how he felt about him dating his sister, then it was not good.
“I would have understood, I could have found another way, we still can.” Ron said dejectedly. “I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Huh?” Ginny asked, not following Ron.
“Hermione and I could have helped, you won’t have to worry so much, Harry.” Ron shrugged.
“What are you talking about?” Harry wanted to make sure that they were on the same topic, and what he was saying wasn’t making any sense.
Ron sat up straight and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, unfolded it and started to read to himself. Finding the right spot he then read it aloud.
“I can’t even begin to imagine what could happen if this bond got out of control, what it would do to you, what I could do to you. I would never forgive myself if anything ever happened to you.”
Harry felt his face drain of all color and Ginny, from what he could tell, was just as mortified by what they were hearing.
“It’s a gift I cannot accept, from you, Ron, Hermione, or anyone else.” Ron looked up at Harry and waited for a response.
Not having a clue as to where to start his explanation, Harry took a deep breath and jumped right in, hoping that when we came back up for air, everything would be cleared up.
“It’s okay, we worked it out. I talked it over with Lupin, then Ginny and I put the pieces together on Christmas. The only thing that’s stopping us now is the fact the Voldemort has been making his presence known and we don’t want him to find his way back to Ginny. We’ve decided to work on the Vita Potestas bond with Dumbledore when we get back to school and the Legilimency isn’t a problem at all. We can connect whenever we want, pretty much. I haven’t turned you and Hermione... I haven’t turned any of you down. I need all the help I can get, it just took me awhile to get it through my thick head.” Hoping that his hurried mess of words made sense, it was his turn to wait for Ron’s reaction.
“So you’re going through with it?” He asked.
“Yes, we are.” Ginny confirmed, “We’re going to try.”
Ron smiled briefly, “Does Mum and Dad know?”
“I’m sure Lupin told them, it’s only been a few days.” Harry shrugged, “They were in the room when he asked... well, he sort of asked and I sort of told them. It’s complicated. But I haven’t outright said anything about it.”
“What does Voldemort want?” Ron asked, jumping right to the point and looking unnerved.
“Oh, the usual.” Harry half-smiled, in no way did he find it funny but found that some humor was better than the hard bitter truth.
“He’s winning at the moment and feels that it’s best to rub it in.” Ginny sighed, relieved that Ron at least was aware of the whole, well, not quite whole situation.
“That’s it? He hasn’t been--”
“No, I stopped him.” Harry cut him off, immediately easing whatever questions or fears he had left.
“Where did you find that letter?” Ginny asked, “When?”
“Yesterday, on the floor in the loo.” Ron handed it back to Ginny. “I thought it was one of mine, sorry.”
Ginny took it back and tucked it safely away in her back pocket, which she decided wasn’t very safe in the first place since that’s where it was when she lost it.
“Well, better me then Mum, Dad, or even worse, Fred or George.” Ron leaned back into the couch. “Don’t you two have dishes to do?”
“Yeah, were waiting a bit.” Harry nodded towards the kitchen door.
“Mum’s on one.” Ginny whispered, being careful not to be overheard. “She’s been grumpy since she came back.”
“You know, you two need to be a little more careful. Did she catch you?” Ron smiled.
“Catch us?” Harry was trying his best to play dumb.
“Come on, Harry, I’m not that thick.” Ron smiled wickedly, laying out his hand. “So have you made it official yet?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact he has.” Ginny smiled, completely unfazed by the confession.
Harry looked to Ron, hoping that he was still smiling.
“Just remember I know where you sleep at night.” Ron furrowed his brow, “and I have four other brothers, well... five if you want to count Percy, but I’m not.”
“Ron!” Ginny smacked him on the shoulder.
“I’m betting that Mum knows too.” Ron laughed, “Hermione said that it’s a woman’s intuition.”
“Great.” Harry said dryly, suddenly finding that he and Ginny had been out-ed sooner than he had expected.
“And she’s probably told Dad.” Ron smiled again, enjoying Harry squirm.
“Yeah, well...” Harry hoarsely sputtered out, his mouth going completely dry. “Hermione.”
“Nope, no glory, sorry mate.” Ron was downright smug. “Thanks to that discrete ‘magical aide’ incident, we’re on the map.”
Admittedly having lost the battle, that Ron now had something to hold over his head, at least with what remaining family members they suspected of not knowing. Harry got up off the floor and excused himself to the kitchen where he found Mrs. Weasley sitting at the table with a cup of tea and a handkerchief in her hand. She gave a hearty sniff and quickly patted her cheeks as he crossed the room.
Not knowing what to do, he headed straight for the sink and got a glass of water and turned to head back out.
“Harry, could you have a seat please.” Mrs. Weasley slid out the chair next to her. “I have some news you need to hear.”
“Sure.” Harry slowly sat down, unsure of what to expect. ‘Was it Lupin, Dumbledore, McGonagall? His mind started racing through the what if’s.
“Mrs. Figg was attacked today. I believe you knew her.” Mrs. Weasley began, fidgeting with her handkerchief.
Harry could instantly recall the pungent smell of cabbage, the sound of her clanking string-bag as it dangled off her wrist, the sight of a half dozen or so odd cats lying around the parlor. Mr. Tibbles would be perched above his head atop the back of the sofa while she showed him one of the many albums memorializing every cat she had ever owned.
“Yeah, she lives two streets down from the Dursleys. She helped me after the Dementors attacked my cousin and I. Is she alright?”
Mrs. Weasley sniffed, Harry knew what was coming next. “No, Harry, she didn’t make it.”
He felt numb, someone else he had known was dead, and Voldemort was yet again the cause. ‘He’s been happy’.
“You’re Aunt and Uncle and their son are fine.” Mrs. Weasley continued, “They didn’t find them.”
“We’re they looking for them?” Harry asked, trying to make sense out of her death and why the she in particular was killed.
“No, Dumbledore doesn’t think that they were.” Mrs. Weasley sniffed again, “Lupin should have been the one to tell you this, but as you know he can’t right now. I’m sorry Harry.”
Mrs. Weasley took up her teacup and walked out of the kitchen, leaving him a moment to himself.
“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked, barging through the door with Ron on her heels a few moments after Mrs. Weasley had left.
“Mum’s been crying. What happened?” Ron looked to Harry for answers.
“She just told me why she left this afternoon.” Harry replied dully. “Mrs. Figg, the lady who lived next to my Aunt and Uncle all these years, well, the Death Eaters murdered her today.”
“Oh, Harry.” Ginny immediately hugged him.
Somewhat relieved, Ron, in his own way, tried to console him. “That’s what Voldemort was so pleased about.”
“It would make sense.” Ginny agreed, releasing Harry. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Harry shrugged, he was getting used to being numb.
If there was one thing to be happy about, it was the fact that tonight was New Years Eve and Hermione would be here in a few hours. Ron, after having been on a roller coaster of moods, seemed to be on a high point from the moment he got up. Harry watched him as he tried on multiple jumpers. He’d pull one over his head, look down at himself and pull it off, only to pull the next one on.
“What are you doing?” Harry laughed after the fifth change.
“Trying to find...” Ron’s head popped through the neck hole, “Uh!”
“It’s Hermione, Ron.” He pulled on his sock. “She doesn’t care. She’s seen you in every one of those.”
“Whatever.” Ron blew him off and decided that this last jumper was good enough.
“You look fine.” Harry reassured him, thinking that it was better not to rib him anymore.
Ginny knocked briefly on their open door before walking through and planting herself next to Harry. “Good morning.”
Harry gave her a quick peck, “Good morning.”
“Oi !” Ron’s face bore a look of disgust. “Look, I don’t mind that you’re dating, I’m actually quite happy about it. But I refuse to put up with- with this!”
“What?” Ginny mocked her brother and snogged Harry full on the lips.
“That!” Ron pointed at them and cringed. “None- Of- That!”
“Sorry.” Harry was rather embarrassed, but he knew Ginny was making a point.
“Well, just so long as we’re on the same page, Harry and I don’t want to see any of ‘that’ from you and Hermione.”
“Agreed.” Ron looked away, still shaking the sight of Harry, Ginny, and ‘that’ out of his head.
“When does she get here?” Harry asked, a change of subject was sorely needed.
“Around two.” Ron ran his fingers through his hair.
“That late?” Ginny was disappointed.
“It’s not like she has a lot of choice in the matter. It’s been worked out with the Order.” Ron sighed. “Tonks is escorting her here.”
“Tonks?” Ginny cheered up, Harry figured that the girls had bonded during their day at Diagon Alley.
“Aaahhh!” Harry slapped his hands over his scar as he doubled over the edge of the bed.
“Harry?” Ginny grabbed his shoulders to help hold him up.
Ron had came to his aid and squatted down on his heels in front of him, watching his best mate regain his breath. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” He breathed out, slowly sitting back up.
“He spiked you again, didn’t he?” Ginny asked.
“He’s really happy.” Harry told them, gently fingering his scar, “Really happy.”
“What is it?” Ron asked, hoping for more information. “Is he planning something?”
“Probably, but I don’t know what.” He lowered his hand and looked to Ginny and Ron. “I’m okay, don’t worry. He wasn’t trying to stay.”
“You better tell Dumbledore.” Ron said, “He’ll want to know.”
“I know, later.” Harry stood up, showing the both of them that he was fine and that the moment had lapsed. Voldemort was teasing him, baiting him and he wasn’t going to bite. “How about breakfast?”
“Uh, yeah.” Ron fell in step, following Harry’s lead, “I’m always good to eat.”
“Come on, Ginny.” Harry pulled her off his bed and the three of them made they’re way downstairs to the kitchen, finding Mrs. Weasley waiting and breakfast ready.
“Your father and the twins have left already this morning, but I’ve kept everything warm.” She smiled tiredly.
“They’re keeping busy.” Ron said, watching for clues.
“Yes, they are.” Mrs. Weasley admitted, “Bill has come back early without Fleur, but I’m assuming that she’ll be along shortly.”
“When was he here?” Ginny asked, reaching for an apple quarter. Harry knew that she and Bill were quite close and would be disappointed if she couldn’t see him.
“He hasn’t been home yet, had business to attend to first.” Mrs. Weasley got up and started straightening the countertop. “I’m sure he’ll be here tonight, Ginny.”
Harry lifted an egg onto his plate and reached for a slice of toast. After this last spike, the lack of Weasley around the house that he knew to be in the Order, and the untimely and unfortunate murder of Mrs. Figg, his appetite was non-existent. He thought he should at least try to eat something or Mrs. Weasley would be on his case, and the last thing he wanted to do was to give her one more thing to worry about.
“Ron?” His mother asked from the sink, pointing out the window. “Ron, is that your owl?”
Ron dropped his fork mid bite and in one swift movement he was at the window throwing it open, waiting for the owl make it’s way closer.
Harry got up too, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt Ginny grab his hand as the little gray owl screeched through the window, circled the room and deliver it’s message to a very pale Ron.
“Shoo, shoo” Mrs. Weasley let the distressed owl back out the window.
Ron ripped open the letter, retrieved his wand and whispered a spell Harry had not heard before. Touching it to the parchment, his face fell even further, Harry didn’t have to be a Legilimens to know what it meant.
“Ron, what is it?” Mrs. Weasley came to her son’s side. “Is everything alright?”
Ron handed the letter straight across the table to Harry and Ginny, reaching out to take it, he read it’s contents with Ginny peering over his arm.
They’re here, watching, waiting, three. He was right.
Okay for now, send help.
Harry handed it back to Mrs. Weasley, who was demanding to know what all the fuss was about. They watched her read it, the lines etching deeper on her brow.
“Who was right?” She asked, switching into Order mode.
Harry had never seen this side of Molly Weasley before, he now knew where Ginny got her resilient and fierce determination.
“Malfoy, we think.” Ron let it drop.
“Malfoy!” Harry and Ginny echoed.
“What did that slimy piece of-“ Harry’s temper was rising fast. “What did he do!”
“He warned her.” Ron said. “Look, that’s not the point, I’ll explain later. Mum, she needs help.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Weasley snapped into action and left for the parlor and the fireplace, the three of them following close behind.
She knelt down next to the hearth and threw in a hand full of powder, “Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes.”
“Mum?” Fred’s head appeared through the green flame.
“Get your father, now.”
And with a quick nod, he was gone.
A/N: Okay, enough fluff to rot your teeth out (at least by my standards) but as the tagline of GOF says... 'Dark and difficult times lie ahead, Harry.' I've finished with most of the 'extra' projects I've been working on and (knock on wood) should be able to get back to writing more often, the point being that I'll be able to update sooner, which is a good thing... right? Up next, Eleven Fifty-Seven. As always, thanks much for your support!