A New Definition of Family
Chapter 3: Reunion
Disclaimer: Well, I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters. Big surprise, I know. Any characters you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are my babies.
Harry found himself standing in front of the fireplace of a cozy house, his luggage ready. Rinna had a knapsack on her shoulder and a bakery box in her hand. “Oh!” she snapped her fingers in annoyance. “Sorry, this’ll just take a minute,” she apologized to Harry.
Rinna crossed the room to the telephone and dialed. “Hullo, Dorrie, it’s Rinna. Thanks for the use of your car. The keys are in the trunk so just blast your way in as usual. Oh, thanks for the briefcase and phone, too. Everything worked out. Talk to you soon, luv.” She rang off and pressed the button on the answering machine beside the phone and spoke, “You have reached the office of Upward Bound UK. We are sorry we cannot take your call at this time. Please leave your name, number and message. Your call will be returned as soon as possible. Thank you.” She played the message back, and nodded with satisfaction. “It’s good to cover our bases, don’t you think?”
“They won’t check up on me,” Harry told her. “They couldn’t care less what happens to me.”
Rinna looked at him appraisingly. His tone was matter of fact, not full of self-pity. As if that was all he ever expected from his family. He deserves so much better, she thought. At least I knew Mother loved me. Harry doesn’t know what that feels like. Then sipping past her embattled defenses came the quisling thought: And it is your fault…
“So…you ready?” she said brightly. Harry nodded. He shoved his trunk and Hedwig’s cage into the fireplace, which at some point had started burning. She handed him a canister and he took a handful of powder. “The Burrow!” and with that the luggage disappeared in a roar of flames. Harry, then Rinna, quickly followed.
Rinna emerged from the fireplace into controlled chaos. Harry was being attacked by several red-headed people and a girl with brown hair. Bemusedly, she stood by and looked around the living room. Looks almost the same… And suddenly she was in the fierce embrace of a forty-ish plump woman. “Welcome back, luv,” Molly whispered in her ear and gave her a peck on the cheek.
Rinna staggered as Molly Weasley abruptly let her go, only to be caught up by a tall man with thinning ginger hair. “Good to see you, old girl!” Arthur said as he bussed her other cheek.
When Arthur released his bear hug, Rinna opened her eyes to find many sets of eyes looking at her. Well those are the twins, obviously. They are turning out handsome. And that must be Ronald…and the youngest one…but where are…
“Percy! Charlie! Bill!” bellowed Molly up the staircase. “Get down here, our company’s arrived!”
More handsome boys clattered downstairs and crowded into the room. Harry was introduced to Charlie and Bill who were both on holiday from their work. They shook hands with Harry. Harry immediately liked both of them. He thought Bill was very cool with his ponytail and earring. Charlie was stocky and muscular from his work with dragons in Romania, and he had a friendly, inviting face.
Percy pompously extended his hand to Harry, “Good to see you again, Harry.” Ron rolled his eyes and Fred and George shoved Percy aside and began taking turns pumping Harry’s hand.
“Jolly good to see you, old chap.”
“Yes, absolutely smashing to have you here.”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, mate.”
“Give us a kiss, won’t you, Harry?”
“Boys!” admonished Arthur, but he was smiling. “Leave off.”
The chatter died down as everyone became aware again of Rinna’s presence in the room. Bill broke into a broad smile. “Arinna Dunlevy, I have had a crush on you for over fifteen years and seeing you now merely fans the flames of my humble adoration!” He strode over as he spoke and pulled her into a big hug.
Rinna grinned as he released her and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Well, Bill Weasley, I dare say you’ve turned into quite a charmer!”
“Oh no, not a charmer,” he replied, “Curse-breaker.”
“Give over!” Charlie shouldered his brother out of the way and enfolded Rinna in another rib-crushing squeeze. Then he took her hand and bowed gallantly over it. “I must confess, dear lady, that when last I saw you, all girls had cooties, and you were no exception.” Rinna laughed and Charlie grinned cheekily at her. “However, I will now amend my assessment of you. You are magnificent.”
“Ah, here’s the charmer!” Rinna smiled. “No wonder you do so well with the dragons, Charlie!”
Bill gave a guffaw, and slapped Charlie on the back. Molly and Arthur joined Charlie, Bill and Rinna in laughter, unaware for a moment that everyone else in the room was struck motionless in shock.
It feels good to laugh, Rinna realized, and she was struck by a sharp pang of what? Homesickness? This family is the closest thing to normalcy I ever had. The thought plucked a chord deep in her buttressed heart: I miss this…
She looked around. Percy had a puzzled frown on his face, the rest of the Weasley children (and the brown haired girl) had their mouths open in astonishment at this stranger their brothers were hugging and flirting with. Harry’s expression was torn between amusement and curiosity.
The moment was, well, awkward.
Rinna cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose Percy remembers me much,” she began, “he was five when I left. The twins certainly won’t…”
“This one’s Fred and this is George,” Molly pointed. “Here is Ron, he’s the same age as Harry, of course, and here’s our Ginny.” Rinna shook hands with each one.
Feeling that Hermione was being left out, Harry jumped in, “This is my friend, er, Ron’s and my friend, Hermione Granger.”
As they shook hands, Hermione asked, “And how is it you know Harry, then?”
“Come, come, it looks like we’ll be doing a lot of talking. Let’s at least all sit down,” said Arthur, shooing everyone to take a seat in the living room.
Bursting with curiosity, Ginny boldly asked Rinna, “Who are you?”
“This is Arinna Dunlevy, dear.” Molly replied. “Let’s see, your mum and I were second cousins, right, Rinna dear?” Rinna nodded. “So that makes you all third cousins.”
The silence that followed was remarkable because it was probably the quietest moment heard in the Burrow in years. Clearly I wasn’t mentioned to the younger ones. Rinna sighed mentally. Not that I blame Molly and Arthur, really. It was probably easier not to have to explain everything…
Shrugging off the little spasm of hurt, Rinna picked up where Molly left off: “Your parents took me in after my mum died. I lived here a few years before…” She faltered. “Before I left England.”
After another few awkward moments and curious glances around, everyone began talking at once and the Weasley home descended again into the typical pandemonium usually associated with it.
Dinner had been set up in the shade of the backyard garden, but not before a fine show of dueling tables by Charlie and Bill. Accompanied by Mrs. Weasley’s fine cooking, the dinnertime conversation had meandered from cauldron bottoms to the Quidditch World Cup to Bill’s earring and hairstyle. Several times Bill or Charlie had tried to coax Rinna into telling of her adventures abroad, but to Harry’s disappointment, she had managed to be interrupted each time. Harry was sitting too far away to bring up any questions of his own.
As the garden began to darken, Charlie, Bill and Arthur conjured candles to light the way through dessert, which consisted of pastries Rinna had brought. Harry sat back, contentedly full and rather tired, and listened to Mr. Weasley discuss the morning plan of going to the Wizarding Museum of National History. Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to go until Ron waxed enthusiastic about it. Hermione, of course, was beside herself with excitement.
Percy excused himself to return to a report for work; the twins applauded his departure and catcalled loudly after him, blowing kisses and bellowing that they would miss him terribly. Molly scolded them and poured the tea without skipping a beat. Everyone leaned back and enjoyed the sounds of crickets chirping and gnomes giggling as Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, chased them through the garden. A pleasant breeze perfumed the air with the smell of honeysuckle and fresh grass. Ginny fell asleep. Harry found himself dozing a bit, and finally Arthur noted the time was late and sent the teenagers to bed with the warning they were getting up early.
Harry got up and stretched and walked to Rinna’s chair. “Well, goodnight.”
She looked at him through heavy lidded eyes. “Goodnight, then, Harry. And don’t worry, we’ll talk again soon.”
She watched him go into the house, then heaved herself up from the chair. “Molly, shall I give you a hand with all of this?” Molly smiled appreciatively in response and accepted the offer.
When the clean up was done, Molly and Rinna were finally alone in the kitchen. Rinna found her knapsack and pulled out an album bound in deep green leather. She turned to Molly, her face flushed and her voice hushed, almost reverent, “I brought this to show Harry, so he could see pictures of Lily when she was young.”
Molly smiled. “I remember how you’d spend evenings working on that album at this very table. I think it was one of the only truly girly things you did.” Rinna snorted and ran her hand over the smooth cover.
“Harry showed me an album he had today,” she remarked. Then, more quietly, “It had pictures of all of us, Molly. Lily, James, me, Remus…and…and Sirius.” Molly remained silent, but put her arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. Rinna’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “It nearly tore me apart to look at them…”
Molly squeezed her shoulders tightly. Molly had no illusions of knowing what Rinna was going through. She had not been privy to all of the circumstances that led up to the night of the Potters’ deaths and Rinna’s eventual departure from England. Certainly, she had some ideas based on observations and outside information, but Rinna had stopped confiding in Molly at the age of 19, when she had outgrown the need for mothering, and long before any of those events. The best that Molly could ascertain tonight was that Rinna had not healed from her wounds, and the damage appeared to run deep.
Rinna trusted Molly. This dear woman hadn’t pressed for explanations, did not scold for too-infrequent letters, and had not demanded that Rinna re-establish communications when she had returned three years ago. She had let Rinna go and be her own woman, no questions asked.
Rinna respected that, and admired the gumption it took to take on a sixteen-year-old girl marred by trauma, angst and rebellion. She knew she’d not been easy on the Weasleys. Despite that, they had always made her feel welcome and safe. Maybe this is the place, in the presence of this woman, in this house, where I can open up this album and…NO! shouted the protective part of her mind, don’t do it! It will hurt…
“I know what I will see when I open this,” Rinna said softly. “I’m prepared to see Lily…but I don’t think I can look at any pictures of him…” her voice quavered.
Molly thought she understood. “Perhaps a concealment charm…over certain pictures only?”
Rinna’s eyes snapped to Molly’s. “That’s brilliant! I could do that…” She took out her wand and began an incantation. When she had finished she looked again at Molly.
“Molly, do you think I’m a terrible coward?”
“For what? Avoiding certain memories by concealing photographs?” She sighed. “I would never accuse you of cowardice, Arinna Dunlevy, but I am concerned that you seem to push away all your feelings.”
“What do you mean?” Rinna frowned.
“I spent the entire evening watching you sidestep any conversations that might bring up memories, dodge questions about your time abroad, avoid Harry altogether…it was an impressive display. I rather thought I was at a Quidditch match watching you evade bludgers.”
“Ouch.” Rinna groaned and sat down heavily in a chair, leaning forward until her forehead lightly smacked the table. It was a move so reminiscent of the teenaged Rinna that Molly couldn’t help but smile. “All right,” came her voice, muffled by the table, “let me have it.”
Molly was slightly taken aback. “Have what?”
Rinna turned her head on the table so one eye was looking at Molly and smiled a bit ruefully, “The infamous, ‘Molly Weasley Lecture’ that I probably deserve many, many times over. Merlin knows I’ve managed to avoid it for thirteen years now. I’m about due, don’t you think?”
“Well,” Molly tutted, busying herself with wiping her hands on her apron and casting a sly sideways glance at the young witch, before sitting down next to her, “all right then, but remember, Dearie, you asked for it.” Rinna huffed out a little laugh as Molly grasped her hand affectionately. “Rinna dear, you can’t just stop yourself from feeling. It’s no good. Besides, if you don’t feel, how do you know you are alive?”
Rinna sat up and gently squeezed Molly’s hand before pulling her own away. “To be honest, Molly, I don’t think I am. Alive, I mean. I swear sometimes I feel like a walking corpse. Empty.”
“Why would you even want to continue this way?”
“Because it is safe.” Rinna combed her fingers through her hair in frustration. “I’m safe from feeling; safe from emotions…Do you know what happens when I allow myself to feel anything? I start to feel the guilt, and when I feel the guilt, then I start to feel the pain…and I’m so afraid of the pain, Molly…”
Rinna dropped her head in her hands. It really had been a long and tiring day. She had to be insane to be having this conversation now, after all the struggles she’d had with her emotions this day. But the dam was breached, and the words continued to spill.
“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to stand the pain, and I’ll end up back in St. Mungo’s…like before…”
Molly took the younger woman in her arms. “Rinna, luv, you need to let it out; you need to cry, scream, something…It is not healthy to keep it all locked away inside you like this all these years…”
Rinna pulled back. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need to cry. I have everything under control. I will NOT be weak!” she said fiercely.
“Dear girl, crying isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that you are human.”
Molly watched as Rinna silently disengaged from the conversation. Her body language spoke volumes. She’s gotten quite skilled at that. I guess the lecture is over. Molly reached over and squeezed her hands, “I dare say I’ve scared you off from an invitation for dinner again tomorrow?”
“What? Oh, no. I mean, no you didn’t scare me off. I did promise Harry I’d tell him more about his mum.” Rinna looked at the abandoned album. “Can I leave this here for Harry to look through if he wants?” Seeing Molly nod, she added, “It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at the pictures with him, at least, not yet.” You are a coward, Rinna girl. “What time tomorrow, then?”
“Oh anytime in the afternoon.” Molly stood up and opened her arms.
Rinna looked up into her face, then stood, reaching in and accepting the older woman’s embrace. “Thank you, Molly. For everything,” she whispered.
“Any time, luv, any time.”
Hermione smelled a mystery and was determined to solve it with Harry and Ron playing Watson to her Holmes. Lounging in their pajamas, the three were engaged in deep discussion in the room Harry and Ron were sharing. “So who is she, Harry?” she asked.
“Weren’t you listening, Mione?” teased Ron. “I’m surprised you didn’t dig out some parchment and start taking notes down there.”
“I didn’t need to,” she smirked as she pulled out a rather impressive looking quill and blank parchment. “I saved my allowance for this.” She touched the quill with her wand and it began writing a transcript of all the conversations she had heard that evening. “It’s a Transcription Quill. Now I don’t have to worry about gaps in my notes in class. I can check them against this.”
“You have this quill, but you’re still going to take notes? You’re completely mental, you know.” Ron rolled his eyes at her. Hermione stuck out her tongue at him. The Transcription Quill finished its work with a flourish and settled on the parchment.
“It’s nice and fast,” Hermione noted with satisfaction. She picked up the parchment and began skimming it. Harry is being awfully quiet. She looked up at him; reading puzzlement and worry on his face. “Harry? Are you all right?” she frowned with concern.
“I’m just thinking about your question, Mione,” he said thoughtfully. “I met her only twelve hours ago.”
“And she said she had been best friends with your mum…”
“That’s right,” he clarified.
Ron asked, “How do y’know it’s true?”
Harry flashed a grateful look at Ron. As the day had worn on, he’d felt more and more like a cad for questioning Rinna’s integrity. But here was Ron, questioning it too. Harry didn’t feel so bad about it now.
“She showed me a picture…here, let me get it.” Harry found his discarded jeans and pulled the picture from his pocket. He handed it to Ron; Hermione crowded in to get a better look.
“Blimey,” said Ron, “they look like sisters…”
Hermione nodded. “They certainly look like very good friends…”
“I found a picture of her in my album, too. The one Hagrid gave me.”
“Let’s see it!” the other two said in unison. Harry went to his trunk and pulled out his album. It changed to normal size.
“That’s wicked!” admired Ron. “How’d you get it to do that?”
“I didn’t. Rinna charmed my trunk somehow. It was weird, though. I never saw her use a wand. She never even went to my room.”
Hermione meditated on this new information. “I wonder how powerful a witch or wizard has to be in order to work magic on an object they can’t even see, or have never seen?” she mused.
Harry had flipped to the page with the dancing. He pointed to the edge of the picture where Professor Lupin had just dipped the red-dressed Rinna. They watched the picture cycle through a few times.
“I wonder if she and Professor Lupin were going out,” said Hermione.
“Why is it that girls always want to find some sort of romantic relationship in everything?” Ron asked the ceiling.
“Why is it boys can be thick as posts sometimes?” Hermione also consulted the all-knowing ceiling.
“Why can’t we stick to the topic at hand?” Harry rolled his eyes at his two friends.
”Right, sorry,” said Hermione. “The topic is…Arinna and Lily were best friends. That’s all we know about her.”
They were quiet for a few moments.
“Well it’s rather odd that you’ve never heard of her or met her before, don’t you think?” Hermione asked.
“But I’d never heard of Sirius either, until last year. No one wanted to tell me about him because…”
Hermione finished his thought, “Because they didn’t want you to know he ‘betrayed’ your parents!”
“So do you think she did something? Something no one wants to tell you about, because it is so awful?” Ron asked.
Hermione clicked her tongue at him, “Honestly, Ron! Like your parents would let her in their house if she had done something awful!” Another thought struck her, “She said your folks took her in and she lived here a few years…why is it they never told you younger kids about her?”
“And for that matter, why didn’t they tell me about her?” Harry chimed in. He started to get a little upset about that. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley of all people should know how much he wanted to learn more about his parents. But they did not tell him of the existence of Lily’s best friend? They had to have known that Arinna and Lily were chums.
“All right, let’s look at this logically,” Hermione stated.
“Is there any other way for Mione to look at it?” Ron stage whispered, attempting to lighten the mood.
“I heard that, you know.” She began jotting notes. “She claims to be your mum’s best friend. She also happens to be related to Ron. But neither of you have heard of her before today. She mentioned that when she had left England, Percy was five. He’s eighteen now, right? Mrs. Weasley said she had been back almost three years…so that means she had been gone for almost ten years…”
“What was she doing all that time?” Ron wondered. “Hey, maybe everyone thought she was dead! That’s why no one spoke about her…”
“But then why wasn’t Harry told about her when she returned to England?”
“Hang on! She came back here the same year we started going to Hogwarts!” Harry pointed out.
“So what’s the connection?” asked Ron.
Harry raked his hands through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know. We need more information!”
He was tired, cranky and more than a little put out that vital information was being kept from him...again. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew this woman; Professor Dumbledore apparently knew her…even Professor Lupin, judging from the way he held her when they danced, knew her! I respect each of these people and I think they want the best for me. Why would they…Wait!
Harry snapped his fingers. “Sirius!”
Hermione and Ron looked at him, perplexed. “Don’t you see?” he said excitedly, “If my mum and dad knew her, and Professor Lupin knew her, then Sirius must have known her, too! She told me she knew all the Marauders.” He commandeered Hermione’s bag, searching for blank parchment and a quill. “I’ll owl him and ask him for information…”
“Harry,” Hermione’s voice was gentle, and worried, “he might not be able to tell you much…during the time in question, he was in Azkaban.” Her heart stung as she watched Harry’s excitement deflate like a popped balloon. “But it would be worth asking him about it,” she added helpfully.
“Yeah. It would be.” He resumed his writing. At least he was taking action, and it did make him feel better to be writing to his godfather. Maybe someday, when circumstances are better, I could live with Sirius… Harry let himself indulge in this newest fantasy. For a few brief, delightful minutes at the end of the term, Harry’s wish had almost come true, but Sirius had had to go on the lam again and that squelched any hope of having a new family, at least for this summer… He finished his note.
The trio crept down the stairs to the living room where three owls were quietly roosting. After dispatching Hedwig with an admonition to keep Sirius’ whereabouts secret, Harry turned and glanced into the kitchen.
Sitting invitingly on the table was a rather large book…
A/N: Hey! I appreciate that you took the time to read this, and I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, would you take a moment and leave a review? I would really love to hear from you. And even if you didn’t care for my story…I still want to hear your opinion. I can’t improve my writing skills if I don’t know what I should work on, right?