Thank you so much to all who have reviewed the previous chapter. I hope this isn't too long of a wait for you…well, I'm still pretty bad about this. I'm trying to get better, but it's hard. You know how it is…you have all day to sit around, and you just mope around the house all day doing nothing….yet you are in no mood to write. However, at the most inconvenient time, the urge comes on, and you just have to sit down and get some words down onto the computer. I sure hope this is worth the wait.
There is a reference to the show "Newlyweds" in this chapter…I saw it and I couldn't help but think it was a great idea for my fic. Try guessing what it is.
There is a bit more of Harry/Hermione interaction in this chapter, although not too much about the kids. But don't worry; they will raise hell in upcoming chapters. :>
Chapter 4: Sometimes You Need a Break
By the time evening rolled around on Easter, Harry was completely exhausted. Never before had he been so physically strained - not even Quidditch practice brought on the kinds of aches he had in his muscles. However, Mrs. Weasley made it up to him, Ron, and Hermione by cooking a magnificent dinner complete with five courses. The three of them got to get away from the children for awhile and settle down in peace and quiet…or so they thought. It turned out that the three teenagers could cause as much catastrophe as 27 children.
"Pass the mustard, will you Hermione?"
"Honestly, Ron, it's right next to you. What are you going to do when you start to live on your own, and, heaven forbid, there is no one to pass you the condiments that you stuff into your mouth?"
"Oh Merlin, I was just asking for the mustard. Pardon me for asking a favor."
"Well, next time you have-"
"Enough!" Harry half-shouted. "It's bad enough to have to listen to 27 screaming children during the day, but you get on a whole new level of my nerves when you start bickering about something pointless. You know what, actually?" Harry quickly ate the last few bites of his food. "Feel free to do whatever you bloody want. I'm off." And with that, Harry vacated the room and went upstairs to Ron's bright orange mess of a living space.
Ron was spooning mouthfuls of soup into his mouth, and then noticed that Hermione was looking at him with a disgusted look on her face. "What? He always gets annoyed when we fight," he said in what he attempted to be a reassuring tone. "Although…now that I think about it, his tolerance usually lasts for at least another twenty seconds or so. But really, I think he's just peeved at us.
"No, Ron, something else is definitely wrong with him."
"How can you tell?" Ron asked. He was still busy filling his stomach.
"I just can…" Hermione was suddenly distant as her eyes left their focus.
Harry was in Ron's room, curled up with one of his carrot-colored pillows. Something about the day he had had reminded him of his parents, and it gave him a bittersweet feeling. He definitely was not in the mood for Ron's and Hermione's immature arguments - all he wanted to do right now was lay down and clear his mind of every thought that lurked across it. Right at the moment he thought he might've achieved that goal, there was a knock on the door. Whoever it was didn't bother for a reply from Harry and they came right in and sat next to him on the bed.
Harry couldn't and didn't want to see whoever it was - he was quite content with simply laying there, nearly suffocating as his head was buried in the pillow. A warm hand that grasped his own told him that the intruder was Hermione.
"Go away," he said gruffly.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong," was Hermione's reply.
"What's wrong is that I can never get a moment's peace, even in privacy with my own friends, because all they seem to want to do is destroy their friendship."
"I know that's not what's bothering you, Harry. You should know by now that there is no fooling me, at least when it comes to you. Tell me what's really wrong."
"Here's an idea - why don't you go bother somebody else?"
"Come on, Harry, we tell each other everything. How is this any different?"
"Well, maybe that's not such a good idea. I don't like you badgering me about it day and night. Good-bye."
Hermione rolled her eyes and left the room. Although slightly hurt by his comment, she knew he meant nothing of it, and he would come to her in his own time to discuss whatever it was that was on his mind.
As soon as Hermione left the room, Harry regretted his words. He wanted to run after her but knew that he was not ready. First, he had to do something.
He found himself down in the kitchens, where Mrs. Weasley was just finishing directing all the pots and pans to magically wash themselves.
"Hello, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley gushed. "Is there something wrong?"
"No…well, yes. I was hoping you could give me some information."
"Information, dear? What kind of information?"
"The, err, parental kind."
Mrs. Weasley looked at him with wide-eyes. "Surely you don't mean…Harry, I thought that you were responsible, I-I"
"No, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, a bit embarrassed and shocked that she had jumped to such an alarming conclusion. "It's not that. It's just…I know you didn't know my parents very well, but, well, they were in the Order, and, you know, I was wondering if you know anything about them."
Mrs. Weasley was quiet for a moment. Then - "I didn't know a lot about your parents. But I do remember one thing."
Harry looked at her expectantly.
"Have a seat." She sat down herself at the table and patted the seat next to her. Harry sat.
"I remember it was the Christmas before you were born, Harry," Molly began, with a misty look in her eye. "Dumbledore had called all of us to Hogwarts for a special feast. Since there was not a single student staying for Christmas that year, he felt it would be rather lonely, so he invited us Weasleys, the Potters, Sirius, Remus, Peter Pettigrew, and a few others I can't remember. Lily didn't know she was pregnant with you yet, and she and James were sitting on a couch in the Great Hall…they were snuggled up together, and I remembered I had never before seen two people so comfortable with each other, so completely relaxed and in love. Anyways, they were glancing up at a moving portrait on the wall… it was very abstract one at that."
As Molly told Harry the story, Harry became lost in imagining what the moment had been like…
***
"What do you see when you look at that painting, darling?" Lily said to James dreamily.
"A candle that's down to it's last bit of wax, yet it's striving to keep burning. And then there is the wind that's working against it…but it still keeps on going strong."
"That's exactly what I see!" Lily exclaimed.
"That's because-" James made a motion with his middle an index finger, pointed to his eyes, and them pointed them back at Lily's eyes, as to indicate that they had a extrasensory connection. Then he winked.
Lily giggled. "Yes, we are becoming one twisted soul, aren't we?"
"Completely, gorgeous," James agreed as he began to tickle Lily. It was the start of a wild and silly fight.
The end of Mrs. Weasley`s short but sweet story brought Harry back down to earth. Her recollection of the incident was almost as real and present to Harry as looking through the Pensive. He was silent.
Molly looked at him with a sad expression. "I shouldn't have told you that. I'm sorry dear."
"I'm not. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." Harry gave her a smile and walked out of the kitchen.
He felt much better after his talk with Molly. True, it had made that bittersweet feeling in the pit of his stomach even stronger than before, but at least now he had a specific memory of his parents to linger on that was actually not of them loathing each other.
Hagrid, Dumbledore, and countless other people always told Harry that he was the spitting image of James, but with Lily's eyes. He knew James was a troublemaker, and Lily was smart, but aside from those few facts, he had little to hold on to. The Pensive memory from 5th year that involved a certain hook-nosed, greasy-haired Professor and his gray wooly knickers was not exactly what Harry wanted to remember his father or mother by.
This new memory of his parents was fresh, meaningful, and truly a reflection of the beauty of their relationship. It gave him a lot of comfort, and by the pure thought of Lily and James he felt safe.
Newly energized, Harry walked to Ginny's room in order to apologize to Hermione. He heard music from her room. Thinking that she was just listening to some tunes while catching up on an essay for school, he opened the door a tiny crack - and what he saw made him drop his jaw in amazement.
Hermione was positively twirling around the room in glee listening to a fast song on the radio. Her hair was flying around in a frenzy and there was a beautiful smile plastered on her face. Her eyes were closed and she was looking upwards. It was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.
"And that was 'Quidditch Ain`t Got Nothing on You' by the Weird Sisters. This is Jennifer Shore at Wizard Wireless Network. Stay tuned for more of your musical pleasure, right after these messages."
Hermione calmed down and noticed that Harry was standing in the doorway, staring at her.
"What are you looking at?" she asked in a mock accusatory tone.
Harry was lost for words. "I just - I - I…"
"What, do you think that a bookworm like me can't let loose once in awhile?"
"I, no, I mean…jeez, Hermione…I never knew you did that."
"I don't…when I'm around others. I like to do it when I'm alone and frustrated," Hermione replied.
"But whenever you study with Ron and me you practically explode when anyone so much as sneezes!" Harry retorted.
"Yes, well, Dennis Creevy and his friends tend to get on my nerves. The Weird Sisters, not so much. What's with the goofy grin on your face?"
Harry laughed, and then remembered why he had come here in the first place. "Look, Hermione, I don't mean to change the subject, but I came here to apologize for my rude attitude before. It was wrong for me to say those things and I didn't mean them - I actually do like it when you badger me day and night, no matter how hard I try not to."
Hermione giggled. "I understand. But, really, Harry. Don't ever hesitate to come to me when you have a problem."
"I don't. It's just that sometimes I need to mull things over on my own for a bit. Today, for example. Something about taking care of those kids today reminded me of my parents, but it made me feel different than I had before while thinking of them. I wasn't exactly sad, but I wasn't happy either. It was just one of those moments where I needed to be alone…and not think."
Hermione rubbed his back in concern. "What about now? Are you still feeling the same way?"
"Yes…but in a good way. It's too odd to explain. Let's just do something fun."
"Excuse me, but I was in the middle of working on an essay," Hermione declared.
"Hmm…it sure didn't look like it when I walked in here."
"Oh, bugger off." Hermione walked away, but she had a smirk on her face.
Harry followed her. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"To study."
"Erg, definitely not. I was thinking more along the lines of… going down to the kitchens and seeing if Mrs. Weasley has made the pie yet?"
"Oh?" inquired Hermione. "What kind of pie?"
"Pumpkin."
Hermione smiled. "Race ya."