Chapter 1: The Rescue of Harry Potter
(A/N: Welcome to the second installment of the Marigold Rosenberg series. If you haven't read the first book, Marigold Rosenberg and the Boy Who Lived, I heavily recommend you do that first. Furthermore, if you haven't read the short story, Is One Letter too Hard, Harry?, please go ahead and do that as well as it has important content. If you have done all that, please, please, enjoy Marigold Rosenberg and the Blood Stained Walls! Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling.)
"Harry's in trouble with the ministry."
It was the day after Marigolds birthday and Mr. Weasley had just returned home from yet another raid. Marigold was helping in the kitchen, so it was only herself and Mrs. Weasley who heard the news.
"What kind of trouble?" Mrs. Weasley asked, beating Marigold to the punch.
"Apparently he used magic last night," Mr. Weasley answered, taking a seat at the breakfast table.
"What on earth for?"
"Haven't the foggiest."
While Mr. and Mrs. Weasley continued their conversation, Marigold quietly excused herself from the kitchen. As she made her way up the stairs, she wondered if her idea would work.
It was George who opened the door, looking quite disheveled.
"Good morn—"
"Harry's in trouble," Marigold said, interrupting him.
"What do you mean, trouble?"
Marigold walked into the room. Neither one of the twins was wearing their pajama shirts, and Marigold waited as they scrambled around the room before finally managing to look decent.
She had spent a lot of time in here during the last month. Two twin beds were on opposite walls, but that's where any semblance of a normal bedroom ended. The rest of the room was taken over by different odds and ends who did who knew what.
"I was down in the kitchen with your mum when your dad came in," Marigold started. "He told us Harry used magic."
"What?" Fred asked.
"I know. Look, I haven't heard from Harry since I said goodbye at the station."
"But you've been sending so many letters."
"I keep sending them, but he doesn't respond. He hasn't been responding to Neville, either. We think his aunt and uncle are keeping his letters from him. I've been worried for weeks, and now I hear he's used underage magic and is in trouble with the Ministry…"
"What's the plan?"
"Okay, I have enough money from my job mowing lawns to get the three of us to his house and then the four of us back. I figure the three of us could get him out without the Dursleys noticing."
"Marigold, Harry lives like, three hours away," George sighed.
"I mean, we'll absolutely help you break Harry out. But, no offense, that's a terrible plan," Fred added.
"Well, what do you suppose we do?" she asked, taking a seat at one of their desks.
Fred and George looked at each other, seeming to think of the same thing at the same time.
"Fly, of course," they said in unison.
"Fly?" Marigold said skeptically.
"Remember the blue car we all took to the station last year?"
"Yes?" Marigold was confused, but then she remembered what Mr. Weasley had told her. "It can fly!"
Fred and George nodded.
"But we can't take the car! I mean… there are so many problems with this… your parents will surely catch us, it's illegal, we could be seen, and besides, none of us can drive!"
"We can drive," Fred laughed.
"And we can go at night when mum and dad are asleep! They won't even notice."
"Besides," Fred added, "the car can turn invisible."
Marigold thought for a moment. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of stealing the family car, but she would do anything to get Harry; besides, the twins were very convincing.
"It's still like, three hours, though," she said.
"Yeah, but with no traffic, stops, or detours, we can probably get there in two."
"That's true…"
"We can't do it tonight, there's too much to plan…" Fred said.
"I agree. We should figure things out first. There's so much to do, it'll probably be a few days."
"That's okay. That gives me time to send Neville a letter to tell him our plans."
The three of them promptly got to work planning the rescue of Harry Potter.
Dear Neville,
I'm going to get Harry. He got in trouble with the Ministry of Magic over using magic as an underage wizard, and that was the last straw for me. Fred, George, and I are planning his rescue as I write this.
We've decided to go get him Monday night. This gives us three days to plan, including today. I can't tell you how we are getting him yet, but when I see you for our birthday I will fill you in.
If everything goes to plan, Harry will be with me.
Wish us luck,
Marigold
The three of them planned their rescue meticulously. To keep appearances, Marigold continued to mow lawns whenever they needed mowing. Because she had already been spending so much time with the twins, it didn't seem unusual for the three of them to be up in their room plotting; but, just to be certain, they made sure to blow things up every once in a while.
First, they made sure the car had petrol. Luckily, it did, so that kept Marigold from looking rather out of place buying some.
Second, they had to plan their route, which took up the most time. It turned out Harry only lived two and a half hours away, but with flying and figuring out the perfect route, they managed to cut it down to a little over one hour. Depending on how long it took to get Harry, they could be out and back in a little under three hours.
Lastly, they went through every possible scenario they could think of and planned around it. They couldn't use magic, but anything else was fair game. The twins tried to teach Marigold how to fly and drive the car, but without being able to go near the car without looking suspicious, they gave up on that idea.
It was finally Monday night; after dinner Marigold and the twins went to their rooms and pretended to go to bed. Knowing that everyone would be asleep by midnight, and that Mr. Weasley had gone to the Ministry right after dinner, the three agreed to meet at the car then.
Marigold knew she should try and get some sleep, but she kept worrying about what they were about to do. It was like trying to go to sleep on Christmas Eve: impossible. She kept rolling around, unable to rest.
Finally, the clock on her desk read midnight. As quietly as she could, she got out of bed, put a note to Mrs. Weasley on her pillow, and quietly made her way downstairs.
Mrs. Weasley,
Hopefully you wont be up to read this, but if you are, please don't worry; the twins and I are going to get Harry. I haven't heard from him all summer and when Mr. Weasley came home saying Harry was in trouble, I knew I had to do something.
We will be home soon.
Marigold
George was waiting for her in the garage, covered in sweat. The car was already gone; he and Fred had pushed it to the end of the driveway and then some, just to make sure that when they started it up, it wouldn't be heard.
Marigold and George walked in silence to the car. Fred was already sitting in the driver's seat; George went to sit up front and Marigold climbed in the back next to the snacks.
There was a moment's pause as the three of them looked at each other, wondering if anyone was going to back out. When no one did, Fred started the car and they were off. Fred drove a few feet down the road, flipped a switch, and suddenly they were soaring to the sky.
They emerged above the clouds and Marigold was awestruck at the sight surrounding her. Glittering stars as far as the eye could see, the moon a beautiful waxing crescent low on the western sky, the clouds below them spanning nearly forever.
"It's beautiful," George whispered from the front seat.
"Very…" Marigold agreed.
"Okay, now, I agree it's beautiful, but I kinda need to know where I'm going," Fred said, gesturing to the map next to Marigold.
"Right!"
For the next few minutes, Marigold directed Fred on where to go. Everything was down to a science; that way they wouldn't have to dip below the clouds and risk being seen.
Marigold was used to hanging out with Fred and George. Over the past month she had helped them with their inventions, which often caused her to puke or erupt in boils. They had talked about Hogwarts of course, and the twins had been satisfied with the little detail they had about Marigold's adventure the previous year (unlike Ron, who, over the summer, had done his best to get more details out of her). So, when George cleared his throat to get her attention, she was expecting anything other than the question he asked.
"So, Marigold, what actually happened that night?"
"Which night?" Marigold asked, suddenly worried as to what he could be referring to.
"The night you, Harry, and Neville went off to find the Sorcerers Stone?"
"Oh, that night…"
"What George is trying to ask," Fred clarified, noticing Marigold's discomfort, "is whether or not you are okay. We were wondering because, all summer, you have been spacing out and acting quite different than you had over the school months…"
"Right, we were just wondering if you wanted to talk about what happened, and we figured if we knew we could help more," George agreed.
Marigold thought about it for a moment. What she had done the previous year had been talked about so much at school that the truth had been lost in the mix of rumors. Marigold had wanted to talk about it, that wasn't the problem; the problem was figuring out who to talk to.
Harry wasn't answering any of her letters, Neville obviously didn't want to talk about what had happened, and Marigold couldn't exactly tell Charlie because that letter would be much too long. Ron and Ginny had been pestering her all summer, but for some reason, Marigold didn't think they actually cared… they just wanted the inside scoop.
The twins, though, this was the first time they had brought it up. Did they just want to know the details of that night? Did they genuinely care? Could they just be trying to fill the silence of the car? Or was it some combination of the three?
"It all started when Malfoy challenged Harry to a duel, like an idiot…"
As Marigold recounted the events of her first year, the twins did their best not to interrupt. But, being Fred and George, they had their questions and comments.
"You can do magic without talking?" Fred interrupted, when Marigold got to the part with the troll in the bathroom.
"What did you see in the mirror?" George butted in several minutes later.
"Wait, that's why you guys lost all those points, helping Hagrid? Sorry for giving you the cold shoulder, Marigold," Fred apologized when Marigold reached the part about Norbert (who she later found out was actually Norberta).
"You fought—a full grown—mountain troll? On your own?" There was shock and awe in George's voice.
When Marigold finally finished telling them about her entire first year, having spared no detail, the car went dead quiet. Marigold was waiting with baited breath for either one of them to say something, anything at all. She wasn't sure if she felt better, if it was the uneasy silence or if it might just be too soon to heal.
"I had no idea that was what it was like…" Fred whispered, not looking away from the sky that stretched out in front of him.
Marigold didn't say anything in response. She just continued looking at the same sky.
"No wonder you never want to play chess with Ron," George said.
The three of them let those words sink in for about a second before they burst out laughing.
Marigold felt better.
The rest of the car flight was easy. They only had to duck beneath the clouds three times to get their bearings. The fourth and last time they ducked below the clouds was when they were in Harry's neighborhood trying to figure out just which house was his, then which window he was in.
They were quickly able to identify which window was Harry's, as it had bars over it. Marigold was filled with an intense rage as they peered the headlights into his room.
When the lights hit Harry, Marigold and the twins watched as he mumbled himself awake. When he realized what he was looking at, he rushed to the window and opened it. Marigold rolled down her car window.
"Marigold? What the—how did—"
"All right, Harry?" Fred asked.
"Why haven't you been answering my letters?" Marigold demanded. "There I was going out of my mind with worry when Mr. Weasley told us you had gotten in trouble with the Ministry. And here you have bars on your windows! Bars!" she hissed.
"It wasn't me… how did he know?"
"He works for the Ministry," George said, an air of amusement at Marigold's outburst.
"—and you know we're not supposed to use magic outside of school!" Marigold continued.
"You should talk," Harry said, motioning to the floating car.
"This doesn't count," Fred laughed. "We didn't enchant it. But Marigold's right, doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with…"
"It wasn't me! Look, I can't explain now, it would take too long, could you just tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and I can't magic myself out…"
"Oh hush, Harry. You didn't think we came all the way here just to chitchat? We're here to rescue you!"
"But you can't magic me out either…"
"No need," Fred grinned. "Catch!"
Fred tossed Harry a rope, which Harry proceeded to tie around the bars.
"If the Dursleys wake up, they'll kill me."
"Just stand back," George said.
Marigold watched as Harry disappeared into the back of the room. She held her breath as the car revved louder and louder. With a large crunching noise, the bars were off the window. Marigold and Fred lowered the bars quietly to the ground before dropping the rope.
"Get in!" Marigold insisted.
"But my things, my trunk… my wand…"
"Where?"
"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room."
"No problem," George said, crawling catlike through the window and into Harry's room.
"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing how to pick locks like Muggles, but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow. I'll get your stuff. You hand anything you need from your room and pass it to Marigold or Fred."
Marigold watched as George disappeared downstairs; then the three of them got to work, loading up the car with everything Harry could grab. George took a couple trips grabbing things from downstairs, but was quiet enough that the Dursleys weren't disturbed.
Finally, everything was in the car.
Harry was just climbing out the window when they heard a loud screech, followed by a howl from Mr. Dursley.
"THAT RUDDY OWL!"
"I've forgotten Hedwig!"
"How do you forget your owl?"
Harry tore across the bedroom as the landing light clicked on. He snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it to Marigold, who was nearly knocked back with the sheer force that Harry had passed it with. Harry was scrambling to the window when Mr. Dursley hammered on the unlocked door, causing it to crash open.
Marigold and the twins didn't wait for the situation to sink in for Mr. Dursley; they quickly grabbed Harry by the arms and yanked him into the car.
"Get us out of here!" Marigold screamed, and Fred stepped on it.
As the three of them hurdled toward the moon, Marigold watched as Harry's hair whipped about and a grin broke out on his face.
"See you next summer!" Harry yelled back, to a red faced Mr. Dursley.
The four of them erupted into a fit of laughter as they disappeared into the night sky.
"Let Hedwig out, she can fly behind us. She hasn't had the chance to stretch her wings for ages."
Marigold passed the cage to George and, seconds later, Hedwig was soaring beside them, looking more like a ghost than an owl.
"So, what's the story, Harry?" Marigold asked, dying to hear the answer.
"Well, I spent a month thinking you guys had forgotten about me," Harry started. "It wasn't until my birthday that I found out what had happened to your letters. So the Dursleys were having a party the night of my birthday and naturally I had to pretend not to exist, so I went up to my bedroom only to find the strangest thing jumping on my bed.
"Turns out a house-elf named Dobby has been keeping my letters from me in hopes that I don't go back to Hogwarts."
"Um, what's a house elf?" Marigold asked, completely bewildered.
"Not sure really, but this one was a really small creature with big ears and ginormous eyes. He was wearing a dirty pillowcase," Harry answered.
"Oh."
"Anyways, apparently it's not safe to go back to Hogwarts, but no matter what I did, he wouldn't tell me why. So, when I refused to stay away from Hogwarts, he used magic to ruin the party by dropping a pudding on one of the dinner guests."
"Very fishy," Fred said.
"Definitely dodgy," George agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"
"I don't think he could. Every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."
Fred and George exchanged glances.
"Do you think he was lying to me?" Harry asked.
"Well," Fred paused, "house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to keep you from coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"
"Yes," Marigold and Harry said in unison.
"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained.
"Ah, yes, that would make sense. Lucius Malfoy's boy would hate you…"
"I've heard dad talking about him," George interrupted. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."
"And when You-Know-Who disappeared, Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung… Dad reckons he was right in You-Know-Who's inner circle."
Marigold wasn't at all surprised; if Malfoy's dad was anything like his son, then she could believe it.
"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house elf…" Harry sighed.
"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," Fred said.
"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to help with the chores… well, she was… now she has Marigold," George teased.
"Hey!"
The three of them laughed, easing the mood a bit.
"Well, I'm glad we came to get you. I've been frantic all summer. Neville isn't any better off, either. We thought the Dursleys were keeping your mail from you. We wouldn't put it past them."
Marigold really wouldn't put anything past them anymore. Bars on Harry's windows, and the cat flap on his door didn't escape her notice… neither did the fact that Harry had seemingly lost all the weight he had put on with the Hogwarts meals. They were starving him there…
Marigold made a mental note to talk to Dumbledore about the situation. There was no way he would allow Harry to stay in a place where he was so obviously being abused.
"So, Fred, George, does your dad know you have the car?" Harry asked, turning from the window.
"Uh, no," Fred answered, tapping on the wheel absentmindedly. "He had to work tonight. We have everything figured out so that we should be back way before anyone wakes up, let alone notices our absence."
"What does he do for the Ministry, anyway?"
"He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office," Marigold answered.
"The what?"
"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made," George said, turning around in his seat, "you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an old antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare, Dad was working overtime for weeks."
"What happened?"
"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place. One man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic, it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office, and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up—"
"But your dad… this car…"
Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles. Our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."
They had ducked down below the clouds again. Marigold could hardly believe it; the main road was beneath them. They had gotten back in record time.
"That's the main road," George said, looking out the window.
"We'll be there in ten minutes. Good thing, too, my eyes are tired," Fred sighed.
"We're a little way outside the village Ottery St. Catchpole," Marigold explained. "You didn't get my letters, but I got a job mowing lawns for the Muggles that live there."
The car touched down a little ways away from the house. Everyone jumped out and pushed it to the garage, passing the lopsided sign reading The Burrow and weaving through a mess of chickens.
Harry wasn't really pushing, but Marigold couldn't blame him; he kept looking at the Burrow with awe.
"It's wonderful," he whispered, causing Fred and George to blush a little.
"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," Marigold explained. "You will be staying in Fred and George's room. There's a blanket and stuff already set out; they cleaned and everything. I'll go down and help Mrs. Weasley with breakfast, like usual, and I'll tell her you showed up overnight. She'll be happy to see you, and she won't know about our little adventure tonight."
"Right, but I don't think that's going to work out so well…"
"Why not?" Marigold asked.
Fred and George suddenly looked very sick. Knowing the reason, Marigold slowly turned around. Sure enough, a livid looking Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard. Marigold was suddenly worried that her welcome in the Burrow could be coming to an end.
Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a paisley night robe with a wand sticking out of the pocket.
"So," she said.
"'Morning, Mum," George said cheerily.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" she said in a deadly whisper.
"I'm so sorry, but we had to—" Marigold tried.
All four of them cowered as her rage broke over them.
"Beds empty! A note with no real information! Car gone— could have crashed— out of my mind with worry— did you care? Never, as long as I've lived— you wait until your father get's home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy—"
"Perfect Percy," Fred muttered.
"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job—"
It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse.
Mrs. Weasley turned on Marigold next, causing her to flinch, expecting a blow. Noticing Marigold's violent reaction, Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and calmed herself.
"Marigold Rosenberg…"
"I am so very sorry, Mrs. Weasley… we planned out everything… we weren't seen…"
"I'm very disappointed."
Marigold hung her head as Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry who backed away.
"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she said. "Come on in and have a snack. Then off to bed, the lot of you."
As Harry stared at everything in the house, Mrs. Weasley bustled about in the kitchen making a quick batch of french toast for a snack. Every once in a while she would throw dirty looks at the twins and Marigold, muttering all the while.
"Of course I don't blame you, dear," she assured Harry as she loaded his plate with toast. "Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Marigold by Friday."
Marigold was surprised; they had known?
"Of course we knew," Mrs. Weasley said, noticing the look on Marigold's face. "I hand you your mail every morning, do you think I didn't notice that you were only getting half the number of letters you sent out? But, really, flying an illegal car halfway across the country…"
"It was cloudy, Mum!" Fred insisted.
"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.
After their snack, Marigold and the boys were sent off to bed. Instead of the floor and blankets they had set up, Mrs. Weasley put Harry in Charlie's old room, which he was thankful for.
After such a long night, and the knowledge that she would only have four and a half hours to sleep, Marigold was happy to crawl in bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep. She had a dream about a crashing car and a crying Mrs. Weasley, but when she woke up, she didn't remember a thing.
Marigold woke up and helped with breakfast like usual. When Ginny came down and saw Harry at the breakfast table, she ran upstairs again. Marigold made a feeble excuse for her, all the while knowing the real reason she ran away.
Breakfast was eventful for about two minutes. Ron wanted to know how Harry had shown up, and Fred and George immediately started rambling out the story. But with one hard glare from their mother, the story came to an abrupt end.
After breakfast, Harry went out to de-gnome the garden with Fred, George, and Ron. Marigold helped clear dishes instead. She had de-gnomed the garden before and had been bitten; she wasn't excited to do that again.
Just as Marigold had finished wiping down the table, Mr. Weasley walked in the door. Without a word he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. He had just taken off his glasses and closed his eyes when the boys rushed in.
Marigold passed Mr. Weasley the teapot he was blindly groping for as the boys took their seats at the table again. Marigold took her seat next to Harry.
"What a night," he mumbled, rubbing his temples. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when my back was turned."
He took a sip from his tea and sighed.
"Find anything, Dad?" Ron asked eagerly.
"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle. There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't in my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness…"
"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" George asked.
"Just Muggle-baiting," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it… Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking—they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe…"
"LIKE CARS FOR INSTANCE?"
Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.
"C-cars, Molly, dear?"
"Yes, Arthur, cars," Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."
Mr. Weasley blinked.
"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that… There's a loophole in the law, you'll find… As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't—"
"Arthur Weasley, you made sure that there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in that car you weren't intending to fly!"
"Harry?" Mr. Weasley said blankly. "Harry who?"
He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped.
"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Marigold's—"
"These three flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, pointing to Marigold and the twins. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"
"Did you really?" Mr. Weasley asked eagerly. "Did it go all right? I— I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "that—that was very wrong…"
"Let's go," Marigold muttered to Harry, as Mrs. Weasley turned red in the face.
Marigold and Harry escaped the kitchen just in time; Marigold led the way to her room.
When they got there Marigold shut the door, which put a buffer between them and the loud voice of Mrs. Weasley. Marigold flopped down on her bed while Harry sat at her desk.
"I haven't gotten the chance to say it, with all the commotion, but, happy birthday, Harry," Marigold said after a few moments.
"You too, Marigold. I'm sorry, but I didn't get you anything," he said, looking at his hands.
"Oh, don't worry about that. I haven't gotten you anything yet either. We haven't been to Diagon Alley yet, so I haven't been able to get anything for you or Neville. And speaking of Neville, we're going to his house this Saturday to celebrate."
Harry looked up, excitement in his eyes.
"Really? Like a party?"
"I mean, it's just going to be the three of us and his Gran, but yeah. He told me that he was going to plan everything out himself, so that should be something."
"Definitely something," Harry agreed with a smile.
Marigold and Harry spent the rest of the day catching up. Marigold figured it would be best not to mention the letter she got from her father for her birthday, deciding she would bring that up at a better time.
They only stopped talking when Mrs. Weasley called them down for dinner, at which, Mrs. Weasley, not so subtly, gave Harry extra helpings.
(A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I apologize for taking so long to post. Again, please read the other two stories if you haven't already. Please leave reviews, I love hearing from you!)