Chapter 3
One Great Big Happy Family, Almost
They had to run to catch their second flight that night, the one from Portland to England. The flight from Georgia to Maine had been long and uneventful, and they’d only had a short stop in between flights before they were scheduled to leave for London. They reached their terminal just as the notice for last boarding was being called over the loudspeaker and they hurried on, quickly finding their seats and settling in. In the window seat, David pulled out his small Muggle music player again - a present from his sister - and closed his eyes to sleep the long hours through; John decided it would be good to do the same.
An hour into the flight, however, and he was still wide awake. He had too much to think about to be able to relax enough to drift off. Earlier that day, before their first flight, he’d snuck into the airport bathroom to change his appearance into something less recognizable; he had kept the light brown hair and blue eyes that he had worn for the last four years, but his nose was shorter and sported a spattering of freckles across it, and he wore Muggle contacts in place of glasses. For the first time in four years, John was returning to the land where he’d been born. He wondered how the Weasleys would feel if they knew that he would be there at the wedding, staying in their home, and how they all must have felt about his betrayal so long ago; surely they would hate him now if they ever discovered his true identity. He’d have to be very careful to never give them any reason to doubt him.
John had not told David who he really was, but before the decision was made to go to the wedding together, he had explained the basics of his relationship with the Weasleys, that he'd once known them, but hadn't been in touch for years. David had promised to respect his choice and to keep his secret, something John was eternally grateful for.
But he still had a few hours until they reached England. Putting on his issued airplane headphones and plugging them into the jack, he turned on the television screen on the back of the seat in front of him and flipped through the movie channels. Settling on a random comedy he’d never heard of, he only half-watched the show before finally his tiredness overcame him, his eyes closed and he slept.
It seemed like only seconds later when John found himself standing outside once more. He was on a street, one that he thought he recognized from his last time in England, and he was alone. He looked around for David, but his friend was nowhere in sight.
Something about this seemed very off. He decided he’d walk up the street a bit to see if he ran into David and if he could figure out where he was. He was scanning the street signs - anything to jog his memory - when he nearly ran right into a tall man with a sweeping silver beard and long purple robes standing at the intersection of two streets. The man, Albus Dumbledore, John realized with a surprise akin to fright, didn’t notice him as his back was turned, but instead was staring steadily across the street to where a tabby cat sat on a low brick wall. “I should have known," Dumbledore chuckled.
John, thoroughly scared now, gazed up at the street sign directly above him and read: Privet Drive. He stood in the shadows and watched as Dumbledore crossed the street and sat on the wall beside the tabby cat, which promptly transformed into Professor McGonagall, who then started a conversation with the supposed-dead headmaster. He watched his two old professors converse in low, serious whispers as they seemed to comfort each other. John got the feeling that something bad had just happened.
Suddenly, out of the dark sky, a rumbling could be heard and a bright light shone from above, illuminating the entire street. The perfect houses and lawns of Privet Drive lit up as the motorbike and its large companion dropped out of the blackness. John watched as Hagrid, with a tiny blue bundle in his massive arms, spoke to McGonagall and Dumbledore before Dumbledore gently lifted the blanketed thing out of the half-giant’s arms. He carried him up the steps of number four Privet Drive and turned away, abandoning the sleeping child on the porch. John wanted to reach out and take the lonely child; as soon as the others were gone, he started forward, but a voice was calling to him--
“John … Hey, John!”
David was shaking his shoulder. John opened his eyes slowly, rubbed them, and squinted in what he thought to be his friend’s general direction.
“Get up, Sleepyhead. We’re in England.”
“Already? It feels like we just left.”
But David was right: all around them the other passengers were standing up, stretching, and retrieving their carry-on luggage from the overhead compartments; his vision from before had been just that, a dream … an entirely too vivid dream in his opinion. John and David got up too and followed the other passengers out of security and to the baggage pick-up. When they had collected all of their bags, they entered the grey overcast morning of London, hailed a cab, and drove away.
They drove in silence until they reached Ottery St Catchpole. On the outskirts of the town, they exited the cab and found themselves in a small village. Cheery people - wizards and Muggles mingling seamlessly together - walked and chatted as they strolled the streets around them.
“We’ll Apparate from here,” said David, pointing to his left.
They turned together into a skinny alley and walked until they reached the darkest shadows at the end. Picturing the Burrow, the men disappeared with two distinct pops, disappearing and then reappearing only a short distance away from the crooked house, on the edge of a forest and out of the range of the anti-Apparition wards.
As they walked towards the house, John whispered, “Remember, I’m just your good friend from the office. I don’t know the Weasleys personally and I never did. I don’t want them knowing I’m here.”
“Don’t worry,” replied David cheerfully, a little too much so in John's opinion. He clapped John on the shoulder, smiling broadly, and turned so that they faced each other. “I will keep your secret. Promise.”
“Thank you.”
They continued to the house. When they reached the porch, a plump red-haired woman was waiting for them. John breathed deeply through his mouth as he spotted Mrs Weasley for the first time since he left; it was a long time to go without the woman who’d been a mother to you for seven years of your life. She smiled warmly as they drew closer and pulled David into a warm hug.
“David, dear, how lovely to see you again. It’s been too long!”
“Hello, Molly. This is my partner and friend, John Fischer; I’m grateful you don’t mind him being here.” He gestured to John.
Mrs Weasley turned her kind eyes on John, looking into his face intently. She seemed stunned for a moment but quickly shook her head and gave him a hug too, although not as familiar as the one she’d given to David. “Hello, John; of course you’re welcome! The more the merrier I always say! Of course, we don’t expect any strange activity at the wedding, but, as you said in your letter, it never hurt anybody to be extra prepared.” She smiled tensely without any real humour. “We don’t seem to have the best track record, after all.”
She opened the door for them and followed them through. “Ron, Hermione and the rest of the gang are out at the moment I’m afraid. I’ve made up some cots for you in Ron’s room - I do hope it’s okay that you’re sharing with him, we have a full house at the moment - so do make yourselves at home now!”
It’s no problem, Molly,” David pacified. John felt his stomach churn uneasily.
She left to prepare supper and John and David were left to their own devices for a few hours.
Dinner was a ruckus affair: a promised event when you crowded most of the Weasley family, plus their two guests, into the small, but cozy kitchen at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had prepared a feast and everyone dug in with relish. The chaos of a simple dinner with this family reminded John as especially different than his dream of earlier: the lonely orphan boy, disposed of and forgotten on the porch in the middle of the night … this change was a welcome relief from that sight.
John also gazed around in wonder as he realized that these people were still, for the most part, the same as he had left them: Ron still stuffed everything within reach into his mouth as though it was his final meal while his mother only half-heartedly admonished him; George was keeping the entertainment going by telling the table about all the new products he hoped to perfect in time for the annual Halloween sale at the shop; Mr Weasley was excitedly explaining some new Muggle gadget he’d recently acquired. There was only one Weasley missing, but he didn’t know how to bring it up when he wasn’t even supposed to know her. Thankfully, not too long later David asked the very question that had been nagging at John all evening.
“Where’s Ginny? I haven’t seen her yet,” David directed to Molly. As one the table grew silent as everyone stopped their own conversations to listen in.
“W-well, Ginny …” stammered Molly nervously. “Don’t you fret dear, she’ll be home in time for the wedding. She wouldn’t miss it for the world. She’s excited to finally see you again.”
“Where is she?”
“Moscow - in Russia,” Charlie said, his voice tinted with unexplained anger. “She has a big game with the Holyhead Harpies. She’s the head chaser now, you know. Couldn’t miss it apparently; couldn’t take some time off to help out with her own brother’s wedding.”
“If she hadn’t already been free on the first of next month, she probably would’ve happily missed it all together,” agreed Bill, in the middle of cutting up his eldest daughter, Victoire’s, chicken.
Percy passed the baked potatoes to his wife, Audrey, a quiet Muggleborn woman with soft blonde hair and blue eyes, and commented, “Well, I for one think it’s good that she has ambitions, unlike some of you.” But his eyes sparkled and there was no hint of venom in his voice like there would have been before the second war ended.
“All the same,” sniffed Molly, cutting in before anyone could call back a retort, “it wouldn’t hurt her to save more time for family.”
It appeared that Ginny was not in the good graces of her brothers, and hadn’t been for some time. John wondered if there had been a fight like with Percy or if she’d just fallen out. Nobody seemed inclined to add anything and David rightly sensed the discussion finished. He went back to his chicken and ham pie and everyone else did the same. After a few seconds, George came up with a funny tale of an exploding cauldron, blue slime, and a lizard’s tongue that had happened at the shop last week and the happy (although more subdued) atmosphere of earlier resumed as if there had been no interruption at all.