The Pride
by Jardyn39
Chapter 1 - The Party's Over
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Some time later. It is now several months since the fall of Voldemort …
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Harry Potter opened the garden gate and walked across the gravel paving towards the Burrow. In the darkness the small flickering lights from dozens of ornate paper lanterns lit his way as he made his way around the house and out into the rear garden.
Before him almost the entire garden was covered with the debris from the celebration that had apparently ended a short while ago. Soiled plates were piled high on the once white linen covered tables and there was an odd assortment of empty glasses and bottles scattered everywhere, including amongst several of the flower beds.
Only one person remained outside and she sat on the garden bench with her eyes closed. Next to her bare feet were a discarded pair of uncomfortable looking glittering black shoes.
Harry sat down on the bench as discretely as he could but Mrs Weasley still woke with a start.
"Sorry," said Harry apologetically. "I should have been quieter."
"Oh, it's you, Harry dear," she said sleepily. "I must have dozed off for a moment."
"Well, you're entitled. It must have been a long day."
"Oh, goodness yes. Still, I think most people enjoyed themselves."
"Yes, I'm sure. I suppose everyone else went to see them off?" he asked a little guiltily. He hadn't intended to be absent for quite so long having promised faithfully to wave the happy couple off as well.
"Yes, that's right."
"Why didn't you go too?" asked Harry.
"Oh, I thought I'd make a start clearing up. Besides, I'd only start crying again."
Harry smiled warmly at her. Mrs Weasley had begun dabbing her eyes the moment the wedding service had begun and was in floods of happy tears before the end. Worse, her tears seemed to be infectious. Even Harry had found himself blinking back tears at one point.
"Why don't you turn in?" suggested Harry. "We can leave this lot until the morning."
"People will want their things back. Everyone was terribly kind to lend us all these glasses and things. Those tables were a real boon too."
Harry smiled to himself, wondering if she had any idea of the complexity of the conspiracy that had been conducted around her in the weeks before. Just about any item that would have required expenditure was, by the merest coincidence, volunteered to them by friends near and far.
"I can't see anyone turning up to demand anything as early as tomorrow," Harry assured her.
"Even so, dear. Besides, Arthur won't want to wake up to this mess."
"Um. How is he?"
"From the volume of snoring coming from upstairs, I'd say he was fine. Honestly, I didn't think it was possible for him to consume any more alcohol than he did at Bill's wedding. Honestly!"
Harry snorted with amusement.
"Harry dear?"
"Yes, Mrs Weasley?"
"I was looking for you earlier. Where did you get to? We missed you."
"I just went for a walk," he answered evasively.
"You've been gone hours. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised after what it said in the Prophet," she began hesitantly.
"I didn't think you took that rag any more."
"It is rather hard to avoid, especially as they keep sending me complimentary copies whenever you get a mention."
"Mm," was the only noise Harry trusted himself to utter.
"Is it true?"
Harry knew at once what it was. It was yet another front page headline.
"It was sort of half true," Harry admitted. "Ginny and I were an item for a few short weeks while we were at Hogwarts. I broke it off just after Dumbledore's funeral. Wasn't it nice of them to publish a reminder on her wedding day?"
"But, after You-Know-Who was defeated?"
"Well, we'd pretty much grown apart by then. We've remained good friends, but it was never the same."
"Then you took up with that Susan?"
"No. That part was a complete fabrication. We were never more than good friends, although we did spend quite a lot of time together. The strange this is they got the dates about right, but hardly anyone knew we were in regular contact at the time."
"Why would they make up a story like that?"
"It must have sold a few papers," said Harry with a heavy sigh.
"She's married now, of course. It's none of my business, Harry, but are you?"
"No, of course not. Besides, Justin's a friend. I would never do anything to come between them like that."
"Harry, people in love sometimes find it hard to control themselves. I mean, I'd try to understand."
"Do you really think me capable of something like that? I promise you, there is absolutely nothing between Susan and me. As a matter of fact I think she's grown to loath me."
"I didn't," Mrs Weasley began, but then stopped abruptly. "Why ever does she dislike you?"
"It came out of what happened with Voldemort," said Harry, ignoring the small jolt he felt through the bench. "She and her group helped me out on a couple of occasions. Actually, I owe her my life."
"That hardly seems grounds to dislike you, dear."
"At the time she made me promise never to mention the part she and her comrades played in the fight against Voldemort to anyone. I kept my word, and I suppose that was the problem. You see, after Voldemort had gone it seems she felt she should have had recognition for the work they did."
"But you kept silent?"
"She has never asked me to break my silence. I only found out recently, through a mutual friend, that she resented my continued silence. I suppose she thought I was trying to take all the credit."
"Don't you deserve that? I mean, it was you who rid us of him!"
"That's not entirely fair. Like I said, I would never have lived to face him without help from her and her friends. They did some incredibly brave things."
"So, what's stopping you from telling all now?"
"Well, I have tried," admitted Harry. "The problem is that no-one is that interested. I did an interview with the Quibbler, which is possibly why the Prophet ran that spoiler piece today. Worse, the Quibbler has delayed publishing my interview."
"Oh," said Mrs Weasley. "Still, perhaps they will publish soon."
"Mr Lovegood didn't sound too keen actually. He was quite annoyed that I hadn't given him the exclusive story about our non-existent affair. He seemed to think it was the better angle."
"Yes, let's get back to that," pressed Mrs Weasley. "As I was saying, I'd like to think that I wouldn't judge you too harshly. I know I'm a little old fashioned when it comes to these things."
"Mrs Weasley, I promise you. Nothing's going on between us. Nothing at all."
Mrs Weasley paused a moment before replying.
"I believe you, Harry."
"Thanks," said Harry quietly, at once feeling a little easier in himself.
"But, Harry," continued Mrs Weasley. "I wasn't referring to anything between you and Susan Bones."
"Um," was all Harry managed to say at first. "What were you referring to then?"
"Harry, you know that I couldn't love you any more than if you were a son of mine?"
Harry felt his face flush and he looked down, deeply touched by her sentiment.
"I couldn't be more proud of what you've achieved, but I'm also concerned that you haven't really done a great deal since. Don't get me wrong, Harry. I love having you around to help us out and fix up the house, but isn't it time you started to think what would be in your best interest for the future?
"Arthur said you'd need time and I see now that he was right; but it has been some time, hasn't it?
"There was plenty of speculation today about what you might do and Arthur told me the Minister himself promised you a job whenever you wanted it."
Harry just shrugged.
It was true. He had rather stagnated since Voldemort had gone, but he didn't particularly want to discuss the reasons why with Mrs Weasley.
"I've grown to know you too, Harry; perhaps better than you realise," she continued kindly. "I know, for instance, that you'd stand aside if a friend's well-being stood in the way of your own happiness.
"We've all come through a terrible experience. Your experiences were much worse than most; yet you seem intent on continuing that suffering."
Harry felt he ought to make some kind of denial, but he had lost his voice.
"Talk to her?" she asked in a whisper. "I know she puts on a brave face but it's all an act, I'm sure of it. Look at how weak her magic is these days and she always looks so tired."
Harry just shook his head.
Unfortunately for Harry, Mrs Weasley had for some time attributed the tension between them as his unrequited affection for her. He hadn't actually realised this until Ginny spelt it out for him, but by that time the damage was done and it was rather too late for denials on this score.
He had told Ginny it was all nonsense but she had no intention of dissuading her mother.
Mrs Weasley, though, did not know how his and Hermione's friendship had deteriorated over the last few months, something that Harry deeply regretted. This, more than anything, was the source of his unhappiness.
Mrs Weasley rested her hand lightly over his and gave a reassuring squeeze.
"I could make you promise," she said. "You'd talk to her about it if you gave me your word."
"I can't."
"So, instead you'll go for a long walk whenever you see her with anyone else?"
"Maybe. Besides, she isn't with just anyone, is she?"
"I don't know what you mean, dear," she teased.
"Ron's my best friend. As a matter of fact he was the first true friend I ever had. I'm not going to interfere or do anything that might jeopardise their happiness."
"Most noble."
"Don't you want Ron to be happy?"
"As his mother, I'd like nothing better for him."
"So, his route to happiness depends upon him being stabbed in the back by me?"
"No, Harry. You couldn't do that if you tried."
He blamed himself.
Hermione alone seemed to appreciate the poor state he was in after Voldemort's defeat. He grew to rely more and more upon her friendship to the point when he became just too much of a burden.
He knew it was happening yet seemed powerless to prevent it.
Hermione never said a word, of course. It was Ron who had suggested he should become less of a fixture on her couch of a night and let her move on with her life, even if he was content with doing nothing.
Even before that moment, Ron's and his friendship had really only been maintained for Hermione's sake. These weren't the words of a friend, but Harry couldn't argue with their truth.
Harry hadn't been back to her flat since. He'd even tried sleeping a few nights in his own flat, but generally allowed himself to be invited to stay over at the Burrow.
Since there was no chance of speaking to her properly with Ron present, there had become fewer and fewer opportunities to speak with Hermione.
Unfortunately, those opportunities were reduced even further by Hermione herself a while ago.