Unofficial Portkey Archive

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document.write(''); chapter thirteen: Unlucky

Harry was roused rather unceremoniously from sleep the next morning. Someone was shaking his shoulder, and without his glasses on he could only make out a blurry figure with red hair.

"Wake up, Harry." he recognized the voice as belonging to Mr. Weasley. "Mrs. Weasley and I need a word with everyone in the kitchen."

Frowning, Harry reached for his glasses and slipped them on. Ron was already yawning as he padded toward the door, and Harry caught a brief glimpse of Fred and George passing in the hall. Tiredly, he stumbled out of bed to join them.

Everyone else was already gathered together in the living room by the time he got there. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were seated rigidly on the sofa, their faces grim, and Hermione and Ginny looked tired but worried in the corner. Charley and Percy were off at their jobs, and Bill had taken off the morning before, but everyone else was there.

"What's going on?" Fred quipped. "Did someone die or something?"

The joke fell flat in the air. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting very straight, Harry noticed, and though they were next to each other, they weren't touching. It wasn't an uncommon sight to see Mrs. Weasley upset, but even Mr. Weasley seemed very somber for some reason. Harry seated himself on the ground uneasily.

"Kids," Mr. Weasley began tentatively, "there's something we have to tell you."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. "Would you like us to leave?" Hermione suggested politely.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, and suddenly her lip was trembling. "No, no. You're both a part of this family."

After Harry and Hermione had settled back, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Your mother and I..." He stopped, shaking his head. "Perhaps I should explain a little. Things have been rather tense around here lately, for various reasons."

Hermione flinched, and Mrs. Weasley looked to her quickly. "Don't worry, dear, we aren't talking about you. There've been plenty of problems to choose from."

Mr. Weasley looked down at his hands. "We've talked this over a great deal, and your mother and I have decided to get a divorce."

Silence. Harry waited half-heartedly for the camera crew to jump out from behind the fireplace and yell, "Candid camera!", but it didn't happen. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were watching their children anxiously now, but no one seemed to be displaying any emotion at all.

"Bullocks!" George cried abruptly, rising to his feet. His face was uncharacteristically angry. "This is rubbish! I can't believe you're doing this to us."

"George..." Mrs. Weasley began, stretching her hand toward him plaintively.

Ron was staring at the carpet numbly, his face blank. "This can't be happening," he murmured, "this can't be happening..."

Mr. Weasley looked rather ill. "This wasn't an easy decision. Please believe that. But we have to do what we think is best."

"And the best thing is to destroy the family?" Fred retorted. He glanced over at the clock on the wall, his gaze falling upon his missing brothers. "Do the others know about this?"

"We've already owled them." Mrs. Weasley confirmed quietly. "They aren't pleased, but they've come to accept our decision."

George looked positively livid now. "Well, I won't accept it! How could you do this?"

"This can't be happening," Ron repeated, rocking back and forth ever so slightly, "this can't be happening, this can't be happening..."

Mrs. Weasley looked utterly miserable. She turned her gaze to her only daughter. "Ginny, dear, please say something. Are you all right?"

Ginny's face was unreadable. She seemed to be waging some great war in her mind. And then suddenly, abruptly, she rose to her feet, her eyes brimming with rage as she turned on Hermione. "This is all your fault!" she screeched.

This seemed to take everyone aback. Mr. Weasley started toward Ginny. "Sweetheart, of course this isn't Hermione's fault. She had nothing to do with it..."

"I hate you!" Ginny cried, her eyes still fixed on Hermione. "You did this and I'll never forgive you!"

She turned and raced out of the room, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley following close behind. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then George rose to his feet. "I'm not staying here," he said firmly, and took off out the back door. Fred went after him.

Harry looked about the room, stunned. Was he really in the Weasley home? This sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen here. The Weasleys loved each other. They had always been Harry's rock, his safe harbor.

Not anymore it seemed.

Harry looked to Ron, uncertain of what he could possibly say to ease the hurt. "Ron, are you all right?"

Ron met his gaze, his eyes troubled. Then slowly he turned to look at Hermione. "Ginny was right," he said quietly, but without malice. "She was right, wasn't she?"

Harry looked quickly to Hermione; this was the last thing she needed right now. "Hermione, he doesn't mean it. He's just in shock, that's all."

But Hermione was frowning. "No," she said slowly, "No, Harry. He's right."

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