Two
It was only ten o'clock and Harry thought it funny that while he was still awake, Ron looked about ready to pass out.
"Ron, take it easy on that stuff. Remember what your Mum said!"
"I'm okay Harry. Itsh no problem, you just worry too mush," Ron said, swaying. Fred, George and Bill all laughed at the sight of Ron being barely able to hold his balance. If Ron had been drinking from a glass the contents would have been spilling everywhere. As it was he was drinking straight from the bottle, although it took two or more attempts (and both hands) for the neck of bottle to find his mouth. "I'm a wizard, remember! We're trained to do this shtuff." As if to demonstrate how `okay' he was, Ron slipped slightly and had to quickly put a supporting hand on the nearby cabinet or he would have fallen down.
His brothers all laughed again. Although they had also been drinking, it was clear to Harry that they knew how to have a good time without going overboard. Bill took a step towards his youngest brother and placed an arm around his shoulder to support him. Ron, oblivious to the help, tried to take another swig when Bill pushed the bottle away slightly. A sound at the door and everyone but Ron turned their heads and watched as Arthur Weasley poked his head around the door and smiled. Ron was still trying to take another drink and Bill was able to still push the bottle way without even looking.
"Hello, Weasleys!" Arthur said smiling. "You too, Harry," he added after seeing Harry sitting on one of the beds. Arthur Weasley walked in taking a look around the cabin they were staying in and placed the bags he was carrying on the table in the kitchen.
"You were right the first time, Dad," Bill said, standing and shaking his father's hand. Harry smiled, and felt better than he had for a long time. He had always been made to feel family with the Weasleys; it was as close a family as he had ever known.
Arthur walked over to Fred and George and shook their hands as well, and then shook Harry's. He took a step towards Ron and bent slightly so he could get a good look at Ron's eyes.
"Hi, Dad!" Ron said, smiling far too much. "Good to shee you."
"And Ron is...?" Arthur asked.
"Wasted!" Fred said. Harry was happy they had all decided to wear their monogrammed sweaters that Molly made each Christmas. It was the only time he was able to tell the twins apart.
"Bit early isn't it?" Arthur asked the other boys. "I expected him to over-indulge, but not by ten."
Fred, George and Bill had all been drinking as well but were doing so in a more restrained manner. "He was gone before nine," George said. Bill was just about to switch him over to illusion-water.
"Good idea," Arthur said. "I'll get the snacks and you can take care of life-of-the-party here."
Bill walked into the kitchen and returned with a red liquid in a clear bottle, Firewhisky was normally a deep amber colour and came in a jet black bottle. Bill waved his wand and touched the bottle as he spoke the incantation "Illusionata." The clear bottle turned black. He took the real Firewhisky Ron was trying to drink and swapped it for the new bottle. "Here you go little brother, knock yourself out."
"He probably will," Arthur said smiling. "You look alright Harry. I knew you'd be more responsible."
"He hasn't had a drink yet," Fred said, "He's had no fun at all."
"I've had fun," Harry replied, defensively. "Who says you have to drink to have fun? Anyway, Ron looks like he's having enough fun for all of us."
Fred and George laughed, and Bill patted Ron on the shoulder. "That he is, Harry."
"Besides, I've still got a headache from the sleeping draught," Harry added. Although the headache was still there, it had lessened considerably from when he first woke up.
"Yes Molly is very sorry about that, Harry," Arthur said. "She said you arrived in such a state. She was only doing what she thought was best."
"That's okay, Mr. Weasley. I guess I must have looked awful. It turns out some sleep is just what I needed."
"Arthur, Harry. You can call me Arthur."
The cabin was hidden deep in the middle of the woods in an unmapped area of Scotland. A fire was slowly burning in the fireplace and warmed the whole cabin. Bunks had already been set up against the walls, while Harry had agreed to share the only bed (a double) with Ron. "Bill, this cabin was an excellent choice. Belongs to Roger you say?"
"Yeah, Roger Fulton. Actually, he's the guy who introduced me to Fleur in the first place, so I have him to thank for all this."
"To Roger!" Fred said, raising a glass.
"To Roger!" Bill, Arthur, Fred and Harry responded. All except Harry raised their glasses and drank the toast. Harry alone did not drink but he smiled warmly instead. Ron had started making toasts an hour ago and had toasted everyone in the room several times. It was only when he began toasting past and present members of the Chudley Cannons that they'd managed to get him to stop.
"Shouldn't the best man be here?" Arthur asked.
"Couldn't get away. He'll be there tomorrow before the ceremony starts."
"Bill, I'm very proud of you. So is your mother," Arthur told his son.
"Thanks, Dad, I know it. Everybody has just been amazing."
"Us too," George said. "We all reckon Fleur is a real catch. We're happy for you."
"Thanks guys. By the way, I spoke to Percy yesterday and he promised me he'll be there."
"To the Weasleys!" Arthur said.
"To Roger!" Ron said, having missing the previous toast by nearly a minute; everyone laughed at him. Ron had had almost a quarter of the bottle of illusion-water, with obviously no idea what it was.
"How does it work?" Harry asked, looking at the bottle.
"It's just water but it tells your brain it's something else. He should be fully sober by morning," Bill said.
"But with wicked bloodshot eyes," Fred said with a smirk. "We added a little something special. No need to thank us, just one of our new inventions."
"Yeah," George added, "little brother should be a whole lot of fun tomorrow."
"Boys," Arthur said. "Responsible, remember? You promised to be responsible. Try to be more like Bill."
"We are, Dad. Mum made us promise Ron wouldn't be drunk tomorrow, and he won't be," Fred said cheekily.
"Yeah," George added. "We could've had his hair go all purple, to match the flowers. But instead we decided to be responsible. Look, we got rid of the Firewhisky, didn't we?"
"Don't worry, Dad," Bill reassured his father. "Fred and George may be a little... well, I'm not sure what they are. But they have good hearts."
"Yeah," Fred said. "We just come up with new ways to... bend the rules a little."
"Okay, but take a leaf from Bill's book. Think about putting the pranks away and maybe settling down a little. Find a girl, a nice girl..."
"Or TWO nice girls," George added.
"Better still, FOUR nice girls, two each," Fred said.
"ONE GIRL! Each!" Arthur said, laughing
"Dad, I'm sure when the time is right Fred and George will do what you say. Who knows, they may even grow up a little," Bill said.
"Nah!" George replied to that idea.
"Having too much fun, aren't we, brother?" Fred said, raising his glass.
"You bet, brother," George said, clinking glasses together.
"AND," Bill continued with a big smile, "they JUST may decide to look for that someone special, just like you did, Dad."
"To Dad!" Fred and George cried, toasting their father. Bill also raised his glass and Harry just smiled.
"To Roger!" Ron said, repeating his last toast. The others fell from laughing at Ron, and it was a long time before anyone could speak.
"What about you, Harry? Ever think about someone special?"
Harry had been sitting on the bed taking in everything the others said, and now found all sets of eyes on him, making him nervous. "Haven't thought about it. There's the small matter of a Dark Lord to take care of first, remember?" Harry noticed the mood changed immediately, even though he'd meant for his comment to be a flippant witticism. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..." he tried to say.
Bill raised a hand, stopping Harry from continuing, and smiled with genuine affection. "It's all right, Harry. I doubt anyone has forgotten what we've been through. After all, we all have our scars to bear, don't we?" Bill raised a hand to his face where the marks were still evident, and lightly traced along them.
Harry smiled and raised his hair above his forehead, allowing his scar to be visible.
"We sure do," he said.
"I've got a mark on my knee where a bludger got me in third year," Fred said.
"Go tell Mum," George said. "Maybe she'll kiss it better."
Again the five sober ones were laughing, and all eyes turned to Ron who by now had finished his illusion-water. Arthur stood and walked to the kitchen to get another.
"But much more important than scars, Harry, is what we leave behind," Bill said. It was obvious he was thinking of Fleur for he had that sparkle in his eye.
"What, you mean like a will or something?" Harry asked.
"I mean like love, Harry. You were there at Dumbledore's funeral. You saw how many turned up to pay their respects." Harry had spent a great deal of time over the last week thinking back to the funeral, and to the centaurs and merpeople who for the first time he could remember came out from their domains to pay their respects. "Nobody lives forever, Harry. Just think, wouldn't it be wonderful to know that we had touched so many lives before we go?"
Harry nodded, smiling at Bill.
"Love?" Harry said.
"Love," Arthur said. "There's probably enough for every one of us if we look hard enough."
"And Ron?" Fred asked.
"Will marry the Chudley Cannons," George said.
"Mr Weasley?" Harry started.
"Arthur," Arthur corrected.
"Get us a drink too, will you, Arthur?" Fred said.
"And it's `Dad' to you, or `Sir.' Or I'll report you to your mother," Arthur replied, smiling.
"Yes, Sir!" Fred said with a mocking respectful tone.
"Arthur," Harry continued, "Ron said something to me on the way over, and I just wanted to ask you about it."
"Hmmm?" Arthur asked.
"Well, I'm not sure if he meant anything by it, but he told me he was a better wizard. No... let me correct that. He said he was better ABLE to be a wizard, because he's been a wizard all his life... whereas I was a Muggle till I was eleven."
"Let me see," Arthur said. "I'm not sure you can say anyone is a better wizard than anyone else."
"Unless you get better N.E.W.T. scores," George threw in.
"Or own a wicked cool joke shop!" Fred said.
"And while I don't necessarily agree with Ron, it may be that I see what he meant. Perhaps what he meant to say that purebloods usually THINK they are better than everybody else."
"But Voldemort had one Muggle parent! True he didn't KNOW his parents, just like I didn't," Harry said.
"Yes Harry, I know." Arthur said, and Harry could see all the Weasleys except Ron wince slightly at hearing the name. "In fact it hasn't been lost on anyone how many similarities there are between you and him. But in this case You-Know-Who has chosen to ignore his Muggle lineage. As far as he is concerned, he comes from a pureblood line. He THINKS he is better than us. The big difference between you and him is that you don't go around killing people," Arthur said.
"No," Harry said morosely. "I'm just one who has to stop him."
The conversation died as all considered this exchange before Ron broke the silence again.
"To Roger!"
They laughed again, and Harry yawned. "I might turn in if it's okay with everyone. I'm still a bit tired after that sleeping draught."
"No problem," Bill said.
"No need to go quiet on me everyone. I usually use a silencing charm and I can make it go both ways, so I won't hear you either. Good night."
"Goodnight, Harry," the Weasley boys cried in unison. Harry laid down and pulled the covers up to his chin, he'd gotten so good at his nightly silencing charm that it took no more than five seconds to cast, and he was asleep within the minute.
***
Molly Weasley sat down on Ginny's bed, beside her daughter. For a long time neither woman said anything, but then Ginny realized her mother wasn't going to leave until they had whatever this discussion was going to be. The wedding was only hours away and Ginny was looking forward to it, looking forward to seeing Harry again.
"I think I know what you are going to say, Mum," Ginny said.
"I don't know that you do, dear," her mother said softly.
"You are going to tell me that everything always turns out for the best," Ginny told her.
"Yes it usually does, dear," Molly agreed. "And I'm also going to tell you not to worry too much about Harry."
"What do you mean? He can look after himself you know!"
"I hope so, dear. Well, it's just that Ron's told me all about you two after the last Quidditch game," Molly said.
"He DID?" Ginny sounded worried, although she knew she had nothing to worry about. It was only a kiss.
"Yes he did. And while your father and I want you to have some fun-what with everything Bill and the rest of us have been through we all deserve some fun-it's just that I don't think it wise if you get too wrapped up in him."
A puzzled expression ran across Ginny's face. She clearly did not know where this conversation was going.
"I just want you to think about the possibility," Molly said, "that even though you THINK you are, you might NOT be in love with Harry."
Ginny turned her head sharply; her cheeks already starting to glow the fiery red colour her anger was known for. Ginny was shocked and didn't believe that her mother could even THINK such a thing. Before Ginny had a chance to explode, Molly smiled. Ginny continued.
"He saved my life," Ginny said, as if her mother had forgotten.
"I know dear. And your father's, Ron's, and probably Bill's as well. I'm not surprised that you see him as a super hero who will always be there for you. I have no doubt that you love him. He's been like a brother to you ever since he met Ron. You love him, but that's not the same as being IN love with him."
Ginny was slightly confused, whatever exchange she was expecting between herself and her mother, this wasn't it. "What's the difference?" she asked.
"Everything. You care about him, about what happens to him. You'll always be there for him, as a friend, and I'm sure he knows that. The difference is you aren't IN love with him. He isn't the one your heart searches for."
Ginny remained quiet for a moment as she considered what her mother was telling her. "That still doesn't tell me what the difference is," she said.
"Ginerva," Molly said, moving closer to her daughter. "I've never gotten involved in your love life before, but it seems to me that every time you owl us telling us how you are doing at school..." she started.
"And telling you what a prat Ron is being."
"...as well as telling us what a prat your brother is, it's never Harry you write about in your letters."
"I write about Harry!" she replied defensively.
"You MENTION Harry, but you WRITE about Dean, or Seamus, or Peter, or that new boy, the one in Herbology. What is his name again, dear?"
"Ritchie Coote," Ginny replied without thinking, as if by reflex.
Molly smiled warmly as she could feel rather than see that Ginny was considering what she had just said. "Ritchie, yes. THEY are the boys you write about, telling me what they are up to and which one you happen to like THAT day."
Ginny went quiet again, considering what she'd been told. "Mum, do you think that... that I'm maybe..."
"No dear, I do not. There is nothing wrong with liking boys, even several boys. You're too young to know who you really like, but that is something you'll learn at the right time. I want you to like boys, to enjoy their company and to have fun being around them. And when I say fun you know I mean..."
"It's alright Mum, we don't need to have THAT conversation again. I hear you loud and clear, and I know what's expected of me. You know I'm sensible... mostly."
"Good, and I didn't think I had to repeat myself on that score. Have fun, but not too much fun, or very much fun perhaps I should say."
They fell silent again while Ginny reflected on her mother's words and Molly hugged her daughter, kissing her affectionately on the head. "You know, you've just learnt a very valuable lesson, Ginny," Molly told her.
"That being?"
"That being when you hear a truth you have been trying to hide from, sometimes it takes your heart to tell you that it is a truth."
"And if you are wrong about Harry?"
"Maybe I am. I'm not infallible, dear, and I do make mistakes. But either way your heart will tell you. You just have to be quiet enough to listen. He may just be a friend Ginny, a good friend. There's a chance he'll never be any more than that."
"How did you get to be so smart about stuff, Mum?" she asked.
"You wouldn't understand it, dear. It's magic, something about being a Mum."
***
Hermione was sitting on her own bed, also with her mother beside her, and a comforting arm around her shoulder.
"He's a mess, Mum!" she said in reply to her mother's question. "He hasn't slept for a week. Ginny's mum spiked his drink and he was asleep for almost a whole day."
"I see," her mother said, raising an eyebrow at the thought. Emma Granger had started out her career as a dental assistant when she met Dan Granger, Hermione's father. Since then she finished her own dental degree and thought she was happy working together with Dan in their own surgery in the heart of London.
During Hermione's second year at Hogwarts, Emma realized that her daughter needed more help than the school was able to provide, and had begun taking courses in Psychology. Hermione had gained much strength and support during her talks with her mother. They had become much closer than they were before, and even Dan could feel how much happier they were as a family.
"And what would Harry say if he were here now?" Emma asked.
"Don't worry about me," Hermione replied at once.
"So?"
"So he doesn't know what's what anymore. He's become consumed, obsessed. I wouldn't even trust him to look both ways when he crosses the street any more," Hermione said with sadness. "He's my best friend, Mum. Aren't I supposed to help my friends?"
"Yes, dear," Emma said and then kissed her daughter's head. "Are you sure there isn't more to it than that?"
Hermione expected to hear this question from her mother. The truth was, and she knew it, that she didn't know what she wanted. "I'm worried about him, that's all."
"And not about anything else we've been discussing?" Emma asked. Hermione looked up into her mother's eyes and saw the love she had for her in them. These two had shared too much to lie to each other.
Hermione's head fell back down and her eyes started to tear. "I just don't understand, Mum. Why France? It was okay for a holiday but..."
"Hold on, Hermione. Nobody said we WERE moving to France. We are just exploring that possibility."
"That's the same thing," Hermione said almost in defeat.
"Not the same thing at all. We are just looking at options, thinking about your safety."
"Then you better think about moving to the moon, Mum. France isn't far enough. Australia isn't far enough. There have been attacks and deaths all over."
"So what are you saying?" Emma asked.
"I'm saying that if Hogwarts reopens, you and Dad think about letting me go back. Let me finish school. I'm as safe there as anywhere, Mum, safer even maybe."
Emma nodded her head slightly, perhaps in agreement Hermione thought. "Your dad and I have spoken at length with Professor McGonagall. We also had some conversations with Professor Dumbledore."
"I know, Dad told me," Hermione said, now hugging her mother.
"Professor McGonagall said pretty much the same thing, dear. But she also told us more than we wanted to hear about this Voldemort fellow. Both of them explained some of the protections around the castle."
They fell silent while Hermione thought what it would be like to leave Hogwarts forever.
"Honey," Emma said, "we are only thinking about this. We haven't decided. Your teachers all spoke about you in glowing terms. Dumbledore was most impressed with your abilities. If we based our decision only on what Dumbledore said there would be no question: we'd want you back there the instant it reopened."
Hermione looked up at her mother and smiled. "Thanks, Mum," she said.
"We are only thinking of what's best for you," Emma said.
"What's best for me is to be around my friends. I have friends now, Mum, good friends. Harry is my BEST friend. Remember before Hogwarts how my nose was never out of a book?" she asked.
"Like now you mean," Emma said smiling. Hermione gave her a playful pat in response.
"I need my friends, and they need me. Harry needs me. He hasn't got anyone to talk to."
"I see," Emma said again in that thoughtful way of hers. "What's happening to him while school is closed?"
"The Dursleys practically kicked him out of their home. He knows he can't stay at the Burrow, so he'll probably go back to Grimmauld Place where he'll be all by himself."
"Hmmmm," Emma said. "It doesn't sound good for him to be alone."
"SEE!" Hermione said quickly. "He needs someone. He needs someone to talk to."
"Would you like me to have a word with him tomorrow after the ceremony?" Emma asked, already knowing the answer.
"Would you? PLEASE? You would be really good for him. I know he listens to me... sometimes. But you'd be able to help him, I know you would."
"All right," Emma said. She was laughing now as Hermione was hugging her tighter and tighter. "I'll have a quick chat with him, just to see how he is."
"Thanks, Mum!" Hermione said and reached up to kiss her mother's cheek.
"Okay, bed for you now. Early start," Emma said.
"Thanks, Mum, but it's not like we need any travelling time. You and Dad will be fine with apparation," Hermione said confidently.
"Well, I'd be lying if I said we weren't a little nervous about it," Emma said.
"You heard what Mrs. Weasley said. It's the safest way to get there. There will be protection charms all over the place. And it means our hair won't get all messed up," Hermione offered playfully.
"Okay, okay," Emma said through the laugher. "Now bed and lights out!" She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek and walked out, closing the door behind her. Hermione smiled to herself and started to reach for her wand by the bedside table before she stopped herself. She stood, walked to the light switch, turning the lights off.
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