Chapter Eleven - The Mistake
Harry had been having so much fun at Grimmauld Place with the Weasley’s that time was passing at double speed. It was already the end of October, and Harry hadn’t been investigating the Horcruxes, although he had been having daily Occlumency and Legilimency lessons. Every once in a while, he found himself thinking, The locket, the cup, Nagini, something of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw’s.
Every day, Harry sent letters to and received letters from Ginny, making sure she didn’t forget him.
He picked up her latest letter and re-read the part that terrified him.
Harry, you should have heard the conversation I had with Lavender Brown. She heard that we had broken up back in June, and she asked who I was going out with now. Can you believe that? I don’t think I could get over you that quick - or at all. I put her in her place; I told her we were still a couple, and we had a big row. I told her what Ron really thought of her - you should have seen her face! It was hilarious. She is such a blabbermouth, though. By the end of the day, it seemed that everyone in the school knew. I just got back from dinner, where a third year Hufflepuff I have never talked to asked me if it was true you were secretly hiding in the Alps.
“What, you’re scared of Lavender?” Ron had said, “Well, I am, but you, too?”
Harry thought back to Ron’s stupidity. Ron hadn’t understood what this letter meant, but he, Harry, understood it perfectly.
He ran his hands tensely through his hair. What was he going to do? Should he write back and tell Ginny her mistake? Should he tell Mrs. Weasley?
He grabbed a blank piece of parchment and a quill and wrote a letter to Ginny.
He was still contemplating his decision as he sent Hedwig out the window.
At that moment, Ron bounded into the room just as he had more than two months ago. He was fuming with rage again.
“Tried to talk to her again, didn’t you?” Harry asked, unsurprised.
While they had managed to be civil living in the house together, Ron and Hermione were still upset with each other. Each time they had tried to talk about it, Ron said something stupid.
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
“What did you say this time?”
“Why do you assume it was my fault?” Ron barked.
“Ron, it’s always your fault.”
Ron looked at him grumpily as he flopped down on the bed and muttered, “Fine.”
“So,” Harry continued, “what did you say?”
“Well, I just asked what the problem was in the first place, and she got angry!”
“Ron,” Harry laughed, “it’s because you don’t listen, remember?”
Ron seemed to be searching his brain for the memory.
~*~
Harry had been back and forth between his two best friends ever since they had starting fighting. Hermione still believed that Ron never listened, and Ron never listened long enough to have an opinion. Harry gave him the “you’ve got to listen” lecture for the third time, but Ron completely tuned out again.
That night at dinner, the majority of the residents were increasingly subdued. Hermione’s eyes were very red, Ron seemed to be thinking about his past conversations, and Harry was preoccupied with his own thoughts of Ginny’s mistake. Fleur was the only one who seemed in the mood to talk. Her stomach had begun to grow in the past two months, but she was still as beautiful as always. Her waist was no longer the waist only a veela could have, but she had the radiant glow only expecting mothers have.
“If we ‘ave a girl, she will be called Marie, and if it is a boy, it will be called Pierre,” she said excitedly.
“Why those names?” Mrs. Weasley asked. “Did you decide together?”
“Well, it is my grandmother’s name and my father’s name.”
“Your grandmother the veela?” Harry asked.
“Yes, she was my favourite grandmother.”
“Bill, why won’t a baby be named after anyone on your side of the family?” Mrs. Weasley asked pointedly.
“Well,” he sighed as if he knew that she would react like this, “if we have two girls, one will be named Molly, and if we have two boys, one will be Arthur.”
Fleur sniffed very quietly. It could not have been more apparent that she hoped for a boy and a girl.
“Why not Fred and George?” Fred asked accusingly.
“No, no, no,” Bill laughed, waving his fork at him, “there are already too many of you.”
Mrs. Weasley glanced around the table apparently looking for something.
“What did I do with the gravy?” she asked herself.
“You left it in zee kitchen because you could not find zee gravy boat, remember?” Fleur pointed out.
“Oh, that’s right,” Mrs. Weasley said, and to everyone’s surprise, she didn’t glare at Fleur. She hustled into the kitchen to try once again to find the gravy boat. She returned a minute later looking annoyed.
“Arthur, I must have forgotten it at the Burrow. Could you go fetch it for me?”
Mr. Weasley sighed. He looked very comfortable and was just about to take a sip of wine.
“I’ll go, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry offered. He was very restless to get out of the house.
“That’s very kind of you, Harry, but you don’t even know where the boat is.”
“I do, Mum,” Ron said, standing up quickly. “I’ll go with Harry.”
Mr. Weasley seemed very relieved.
~*~
Minutes later (Mrs. Weasley had insisted that they wear their coats), Harry and Ron were ready to Apparate.
“Now remember, Ron,” Mrs. Weasley said eagerly, “GRAVY BOAT.”
“I know, Mum, I heard you before,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.
“So now you listen,” Hermione sniffed and left the room before Ron could reply.
“Let’s go,” Harry urged before Ron had time to get angry.
Harry and Ron concentrated on the Burrow and Apparated.
They arrived at the Burrow’s garden slightly ruffled by the journey.
“I hate that,” Ron said, digging his finger in his ear trying to get rid of the compressed feeling.
They turned around to see the house and stumbled back in shock.
“Oh my God,” Ron gaped in horror, “what happened here?”
It was very apparent that this was not the way they had left the house.