Chapter 2
Conflicting Lies
[24 October 2011]
10:03 AM
He had barely stepped out of the fireplace when two little figures barrelled into him, clinging on to his legs. Laughing, he supported his sons as they began to climb up his sides—something they did every single time they saw him after a rather long period of time.
"Boys! At least let your father come inside," Molly admonished, trying and failing to extricate the two from their father.
"It's good to see you, Molly," he said as he hugged the Weasley matriarch awkwardly around the boys.
"It's wonderful to see you too, Harry darling," Molly replied, kissing him on both cheeks. "Oh! I've made your favourite—Treacle Tart!"
"Tart!" the boys cheered. He laughed as he held onto Albus as the five-year-old swung from side to side.
"I won!" seven-year-old James yelled, propping himself atop Harry's shoulders.
"But I hugged Daddy first," came Albus' muffled reply as he snuggled into Harry's chest.
"But I won!" James yelled again and stuck his tongue out at Albus.
"Daddy," Albus whined, and James sniggered.
"Jamie! Al!" came Ginny's voice as she stepped out of the fireplace.
"Mummy! Daddy!" came a high pitched squeal simultaneously as three-year-old Lily, who looked like a wrapped toffee in Ginny's old pink apron and hairnet, came running into the room.
"Hi, Lils," Harry said, picking her up with one arm as Albus swung from the other.
"Alright you guys, come on, give Daddy a break," Ginny said as she pulled James off from Harry's shoulders.
"Nooo!" he yelled, kicking his legs and struggling in his mother's arms.
"Jamie!" she scolded, placing the boy on the ground.
"Mummy, are we going home now?" Albus asked, coming to stand before Ginny and looking up at her wide-eyed.
"Yes, sweetheart, we are," she said gently, brushing the hair out of his eyes and kissing his forehead.
"Why?" the boy asked, pouting. "Uncle Georgie said he'd take us flying!"
"He will do no such thing!" Molly called as she bustled into the living room, several plates holding large pieces of tart floating after her. "Now, who wants tart?"
Effectively distracted, the three children cheered and sat cross-legged on the floor, watching excitedly as their grandmother Levitated the plates down to them.
"Dig in!" Molly said, and the kids did just that, spraying the tart everywhere.
He grinned as his plate floated over to him, and with a quick "Thanks," sat down and began digging in himself.
"Looks like it's straight into the bath for the whole lot of you as soon as we get home," Ginny said as she sat down beside Harry, pulling her own plate close to her.
"Or you could just use that cleaning charm on us and no one would be the wiser," Harry said around a piece of tart.
She shot him a look, and he grinned.
Lily screamed just then. James had apparently stolen a piece of her tart and was holding it at arm's length, and Albus, who was staring at the piece of tart, ate it clean off James' fork. That led to a wrestling match between the two brothers while Lily cried for a bit before spotting her brothers' plates and dumping the contents on to her own. By the time James and Albus realised what had happened, Lily was patting her stomach, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's, a satisfied smile on her face.
And then all hell broke loose.
He had to hold the boys back as Ginny kissed her mother and, with a hurried goodbye, stepped into the Floo carrying a screaming Lily. Molly instantly procured two more plates of tart, and Albus and James ate their share happily. Harry gave her a grateful smile as the older woman came to stand beside him.
"They must've been more than a handful," he said, rather apologetic about it.
"Nonsense! I've raised six boys and a girl. Two of whom were Fred and George, mind you. These three were absolute darlings in comparison."
He grinned at that and watched as his sons finished their plates, raced to the sink, climbed up on to the stools placed in front of the counter, and rinsed their plates clean.
"What did I say," Molly said affectionately as she ushered the boys away from the sink.
"We'll come again, Gram'ma!" Albus and James chorused as Harry helped them into the Floo.
"I'll make you your favourite treats!" Molly called, waving at them with a wide smile on her face.
"Thanks again," Harry said, hugging her.
The corners of her eyes crinkled as she patted his arm and nodded. "You take good care of them, Harry."
He smiled. "I will."
Stepping into the Floo, Harry stood between the two boys, making sure that both were holding on to him, and with a final wave to Molly, threw down the Floo powder.
2:58 PM
He sighed as Lily began to cry, again, the volume of her shrill wails rivalling that of James' angry shouts. Rising from his desk, he trudged downstairs, rubbing his eyes.
"Guys, come on, Daddy's working, can we please not fight?" he said as he entered the living room.
Lily instantly ran to him, and he picked her up, hoisting her on his hip and wiping the tears from her cheeks. He turned to see James standing with his arms crossed and an almighty scowl on his face.
He sighed again. "Alright, what happened?"
Both children started talking at once, and he nodded, barely listening to whatever great crime Lily had committed that James couldn't forgive.
"It took me three days to make it! It's a masterpiece!"
"He told me sit, I sitted!"
He raised his eyebrows at his son, more curious about where James had learnt the word masterpiece than about what this so-called masterpiece was.
"Alright, where's it broken?" Harry asked, putting Lily down and squatting beside what looked like a rather large, lopsided yellow tricycle. He frowned. "Jamie, where did you get this?"
"I made it!" came the indignant reply, and Harry gave his son a pointed look.
"So you're telling me you made this complicated looking tricycle? All on your own?"
James hesitated for a moment and started to nod before shaking his head. "Gran'pa got it for me, but I painted it!"
He groaned. Trust Arthur to buy his seven-year-old son a tricycle. Sometimes he wondered if the older wizard was under the impression that if he pretended like the kids were younger than they were, they wouldn't grow any faster. It seemed to be working, in a way, because no matter what Arthur bought any of his grandchildren, they adored it all the same. It was rather mind-boggling, considering the brats wouldn't even cast a second glance towards it if their parents ever tried to buy it for them. Grandparents were miracle workers, he'd come to learn.
"Lily, what did Grandpa get you?" he asked, knowing that it was impossible to get only one of the three a present.
"This!" she said proudly, holding out a large, blonde doll. It looked suspiciously like the ones that were all the rage in Muggle London.
"And Al?"
"A red tricycle!"
Rubbing his face with his palms, he made a mental note to remind Ginny to sit her father down and tell him to stop spoiling their kids rotten. Every time they dropped the kids over at the Burrow, which was more often than he'd like to admit, the trio would return with some present or the other. It was bad enough that they barely hesitated before demanding for something—and that he and Ginny bought it for them without question. It was about time to draw a line. He refused to let his kids grow into spoiled brats. The next thing he knew, they'd be counting their presents by the dozen.
The memory that brought on was not a pleasant one, and he rose to his feet, pulling his wand out. He waved it at the tricycle, fixing the lopsided seat that was far too small for James. Nevertheless, his son seemed immensely happy that his tricycle was fixed again.
"Thanks, Dad!" James cried as he pranced around the cycle, and Lily looked on, wide-eyed.
He was just about to return to his study when Lily grabbed his shirt.
"When're Mummy and Al coming?" she asked and he checked his wristwatch.
"They should actually be home any minute now with your Aunt Hermione."
Even as the words left his mouth, there was the whoosh of the Floo and Albus' voice. A minute later, Albus was running into the living room, mouth wide open as he pointed to the gaps where his pre-molars used to be.
"They're finally gone!" he exclaimed, referring to his missing milk teeth. They hadn't fallen out and had to be removed since the new ones were already growing in.
Ginny had gotten paranoid about it because Rose had apparently lost all of hers and Albus still hadn't lost all of his. So Hermione had spoken to her dad and Ginny'd taken Albus to see Mr Granger the second he had stepped out of the bath.
When Hermione entered the living room, she looked far more relieved than any of them.
"I'm so glad Rosie lost all her milk teeth. I never want to go through that again," she said in a low voice as James and Lily began to narrate the story of the tricycle breaking in loud voices.
"That bad?" Harry asked, grinning at her.
"Worse," she replied, sniffing. "Ginny nearly had an aneurysm when Dad brought the syringe close to Al. I swear, I wasn't sure who was the one to get their teeth pulled out by the end of it."
"C'mon, she couldn't have been all that bad," Harry laughed as Albus asked Ginny to bring his tricycle down so he and James could ride them behind the house.
"I've never really seen her like that," Hermione said softly as they watched Ginny and the kids troop out of the room. She turned to him and shook her head. "It made me quite nervous to see how panicked she seemed."
He tried to laugh it off as he led Hermione to the sofa, but she really did look rather shaken up.
Just what happened at the dentist's?
"So, have you told her yet?"
He groaned loudly and let his head drop. "Hermione," he grumbled.
"I'm only concerned!" she said defensively, and he knew she was bristling without having to look at her.
"I know you are, but no matter how many times you ask me, the answer's going to remain the same," Harry said, serious. "You know what happened the last time people found out I was getting nightmares. Besides, I'm dealing with them."
Hermione pursed her lips, looking unconvinced, and cocked her head, as though listening for Ginny and the kids. There were excited shouts and giggles and the sound of the back door opening and shutting. He craned his neck and peered out the living room window, smiling as he watched James and Albus zoom around the grass on their brand new tricycles—that were several sizes too small for them.
"Where did they even get those? Wait—don't tell me—Arthur?" Hermione asked, a knowing expression on her face.
"What did he get Rosie and Hugo?" Harry asked, chuckling at the face she made.
"He got Rosie a wooden rocking horse and Hugo, a very large orange car."
Harry threw his head back and laughed, finding her tone of voice and facial expression far more hilarious than the actual tale. She didn't look very impressed, though.
"I mean, a rocking horse, for heaven's sake! Rosie's five, not three!"
"I'm sure she loved it, though," he said with a grin, and Hermione shook her head in frustration.
"She adores that ridiculous thing. And Hugo even carries his car into the bath—the paint's already started chipping."
Harry nodded in understanding, watching his sons ride their brightly coloured tricycles. "I never thought I'd see the day when Jamie would ride a tricycle. I mean, the tantrum he threw when we told him we'd get him one three years ago. He refused to even sit on it because, and I quote, 'It's for babies'."
"Look at them having the time of their lives," Hermione said fondly, although she made a face when Albus fell off his tricycle and abandoned it.
"Jamie's been wanting a cycle without training wheels, and Al refuses to get one with them because Jamie doesn't want them." Harry sighed, shaking his head.
When Hermione didn't answer, he looked up to see a rather nostalgic smile on her face.
"What?" he asked, ready to take offence if she was making fun of him.
"No, I was just thinking—it only seems like yesterday that the lot of us were running around Hogwarts, and now, look at us… sitting and complaining about what toys our kids like and don't like…"
"Yeah," Harry said, standing up to go sit beside her. "Time really flies, doesn't it?"
"It does."
They sat watching the kids run around the garden till Ginny stormed into the kitchen, a tricycle in each hand.
"I don't care if I've to buy them cycles without training wheels, I absolutely refuse to have my sons ride these ridiculous things," she said, tossing the brightly coloured tricycles to the ground.
Harry grinned at Hermione, and she shook her head as Ginny strode out with a mighty huff.
11:45 PM
There was a knock on the door, and he looked up as Ginny poked her head into his study.
"Hey..."
"Hey," he said, placing his quill down and sitting back as she walked in.
She came to stand beside his desk, running a finger along the surface and biting her lip. He frowned.
"Ginny? What's going on?" he asked, the worry starting to build up from the pit of his stomach. She was behaving rather suspiciously.
"Well," she drawled, coming around the desk to stand beside his chair. "The kids are asleep…"
"Yeah," he said slowly as she leaned down, her eyes hooded.
"So I was thinking... maybe we could crack open a bottle of wine… have a nice night… just the two of us…"
He leant forward and sniffed, blanching at the heavy scent of alcohol on her breath.
"Ginny, how much have you had to drink?" he asked, standing up and holding her by the arms.
"Not much?" she said as she teetered and fell against him with a giggle.
He bit back a sigh as he steered her out of the study. "All right, come on, let's get you to bed."
"Noo," she whined, placing her hands on either side of the door and refusing to budge.
"Ginny—" he hissed, trying to pry her hands off the wood, "let go, damnit—"
"Don' wanna!"
After five minutes of fruitlessly trying to get her to let go, he sighed and let his head fall onto her shoulder. He stayed that way for a long moment and felt Ginny drop her arms and intertwine her fingers with his. Raising his head, he kissed her shoulder and she looked back at him.
"Hey," he said softly, nuzzling his nose against hers.
"Hi," she whispered back, smiling. "I'm really drunk," she added, biting her lip to stifle a giggle.
He chuckled. "Yeah. Do you wanna maybe let me walk you out, now?"
"To the living room," she said adamantly and he smiled.
"Sure."
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"You know I love you, right?"
He looked at her curiously. "Of course I do," he said, pressing his lips to hers.
"Even though sometimes it doesn't seem like it?"
"When that time comes, I'll make sure to tell you," he said, and she gave him a watery smile and nodded.
He helped her out of the study and down the stairs, carrying her down the last few steps because she started giggling uncontrollably. Putting her down on the sofa, he went to get her a glass of water, but by the time he got back, she was curled up, fast asleep.
Smiling, he brushed the hair out of her face and was just about to Transfigure the cushion at her feet into a blanket when a soft tinkling caught his ear. Curious, he looked around till he found the source of the sound—which turned out to be a mobile phone, probably the one Ron had given her, in the pocket of her coat that hung on the stand by the front door.
He stared at the unfamiliar number but received the call anyway, but before he could say anything, the person on the other end began to talk.
"Oh, good, I caught you in time!"
Angelina? Why's she calling from an unknown number? he thought.
"So, about this week, what's the plan? Do you want me to drop you off at the station or somewhere nearby? And when am I picking you up, Thursday or Friday?"
The line went silent as Angelina waited for a reply—which he didn't give because he was rooted to the spot, his mouth hanging open.
Why was Angelina asking Ginny what the plan was? Wasn't it her birthday trip? And what was this whole thing about dropping her off at the station and picking her up a whole five days later?
Where was Ginny going?
"Gin, are you there? Listen, if you don't want to do this, it's fine, I'm sure he'll understand—"
Panicking, Harry disconnected the call, his heart thundering in his chest. What had just happened? Why had Angelina gone out of her way to call from another number instead of her normal phone or the home phone?
And where was Ginny going?
Tapping the phone against his chin, he began to pace, his mind whirring from the new information he'd just received. So Ginny was going somewhere, but it wasn't with Angelina. Or maybe it was, except she was making a stop somewhere else first—
For five days?
He shook his head. Maybe he was just reading too much into the whole thing. There was a lot of background noise on Angelina's side, so she could have been out, which meant that maybe she was using a borrowed phone or a payphone because she didn't have her phone on her…
And who was the guy she was referring to?
Pausing in his pacing, Harry frowned, confused. Had Angelina been talking about him?
But if it was him, then why was she talking as though he was the one who had forced Ginny to go on the trip? He started to pace again but stopped short as a thought came to him.
Did Ginny lie to Angelina?
There was a groan from the living room and he snapped his head towards the door, his heart lurching. Ginny moaned again, and Harry hurriedly dropped the phone in the coat pocket and strode into the living room.
She was reaching for the glass of water, and he helped her with it, placing it to her mouth and tilting it as she gulped down every last drop. She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut, and he Transfigured the cushion into a blanket, draping it over her and tucking her in.
He stilled as she snuggled into the blanket, her breathing slowing as she went back to sleep. Leaning down, he made to kiss her hair, but paused at the last minute and pulled away.
Stroking his chin and feeling sick all of a sudden, he walked to the cabinets behind the kitchen isle and rummaged for a bottle of Firewhiskey. He found four—two were sealed, one was half-full, the one they'd opened yesterday, and the fourth was empty.
Picking up the empty bottle, he stared at it for a long moment and sighed. Grabbing the half-full one, he started to stand and then grabbed a sealed one as an afterthought. He placed the empty bottle in the space under the sink, grabbed the mug he'd used the previous evening, and made his way back to his study, casting one final look at his sleeping wife.
The second he had shut the door to his study, he placed a Muffling Charm on it so if he drank himself to oblivion, he wouldn't wake up to the kids' shrill screams. Placing the bottles and mug on the desk, he waved his wand and cleared the last bit of paperwork he'd left for later, opening the half-full bottle with his free hand and filling the mug to the brim.
He stared at it for a long moment, regretting what he was about to do already, and, with a shrug, brought the mug to his lips.
He was standing in the middle of a barren prairie this time. There was nothing around him for as far as he could see—except for some dead shrubbery here and there, poking out of the cracked ground.
The wind whistled around him, rustling through his hair and clothes, and he began to walk, staring straight ahead. A sharp pain erupted from his foot, and he looked down, realising he wasn't wearing any shoes. The cuffs of his pants were ripped, as though they had been torn off, and so were his sleeves.
He stared at his hands, turning them around, touching his cold fingers to each cut and bruise. The wind started to howl, and he continued on his journey. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew there was somewhere he had to be.
After several minutes—or maybe hours—of walking nowhere, across the monotonous landscape, he heard the faint hoot of a train. Eyes widening, he looked around, expecting to see the Hogwarts Express shoot across the barren land.
Just as he had suspected, iron rails clicked together along the ground, running horizontally from his far left to his far right and disappearing into the horizon. There was another hoot and the pounding of a train's wheels. He waited, anticipation filling him with a dull throbbing, and as he watched, the train shot by him in all its grey glory.
Grey…? Since when was the Hogwarts Express grey?
The train disappeared into the light fog that was settling over the prairie. He looked to his right and saw nothing but more empty, barren land. The tracks and the train were nowhere to be seen.
He looked straight ahead and, to his shock, there was someone standing there, turned away from him. She was wearing a frock with lace around the edges, and a large, poufy hat atop her short, ginger locks. There was something vaguely familiar about the girl.
Curious, he walked towards her, belatedly hearing the hooting of the train's whistle again. He reached her and placed his hand on her shoulder as the ground shuddered from the train that was swiftly approaching.
Was the girl waiting for the train?
He saw the engine approach from the corner of his eyes, and just as the girl turned around, he was flung back and the train ran across the prairie. When it was gone, so was the girl, leaving him with nothing but a fleeting memory of her familiar face and the words she had whispered, carried away by the howling wind.
"You know I love you, right? Even though sometimes it doesn't seem like it?"
[25 October 2011]
12:31 PM
The first thing he did when he opened his eyes was groan, turning to his side and fumbling for the bottle of water he'd managed to Summon before he'd gotten pissed out of his mind. Splashing some water on to his face, he gulped the rest down, revelling at the clean, sweet taste that filled his mouth.
Rolling off the sofa—and sending a silent thank you to Hermione for suggesting that he get one—he checked the clock on his desk and swore.
"Half past twelve? You have got to be joking," he grumbled, barely having the energy to clean himself up with the freshening charm that was swiftly becoming a mandatory part of his everyday life.
He stared at the door for a long moment, setting his thoughts straight, before undoing the Muffling Charm. Scrunching his face up, he braced himself for the barrage to come but still winced when Lily's shrill screaming assaulted his sensitive ears.
"Bloody hell," he hissed, stuffing his fingers into his ears as he strode out and down the stairs.
"What in Merlin's name is going on?" he yelled as he stepped into the living room.
Lily fell silent, and several pairs of eyes—several more than there were supposed to be—stared at him. Ginny was by his side in an instant, a tall tumbler of strong-smelling liquid in her hand. He needed little prompting before chugging down the Pepperup Potion, instantly feeling its kick wake him up.
"Looks like you lot've had a rough start to your week, eh?" George said with a wide grin, coming up to him and pulling him into a rough hug.
Harry groaned as he patted George on the back and pulled away, nodding and adjusting his glasses. "Yeah, rough start."
"What in the world happened?" Angelina asked, looking up from where she was helping Albus with a puzzle. "We Floo in here nice and early from dropping the kids off at the Burrow to find the wife passed out on the sofa, the husband locked away in his study, and the kids running rampant in the house."
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, didn't know we were expecting company," Harry said, placing his hands on his waist and giving Ginny a pointed look.
"Oh," Angelina said, sharing a look of apparent mutual understanding with his wife. "I called last night, actually, but I guess you guys were already out by then."
His stomach lurched at that, and he inhaled, leaning back against the wall as he tried to suppress a headache that began to throb through his temples. Ginny was telling Angelina she hadn't found a missed call on the phone's call log, and Angelina was saying maybe she had called the landline connection by accident. Harry still hadn't thought the previous night's events through, and right now, with his hangover, he wasn't about to.
"Right, guys, hey," he said, clapping his hands together and drawing everyone's attention to him. "Since you both are here, what say we go out and get some lunch?"
"Lunch date!" the kids shrieked and ran out, thundering up the stairs.
George shrugged and grinned. "Why not? It's not like we have anything planned or something. Right, Angie?"
"Sounds like a plan!" she said, putting away the puzzle and helping Ginny clear the living room.
"Alright, fantastic, I'll just go take a shower and then we can leave," Harry said and began to walk away when Angelina came up to him.
"Hey," she said, looking nervous as she wiped her palms on her pants.
"Hey," Harry replied, feeling a sudden sense of deja vu settle over him. "What's up?"
She opened her mouth, paused, and then said, "I was just wondering—did you answer Ginny's phone last night, by any chance?"
Feeling his heart begin to race, Harry took on a demeanour of confusion and shook his head. "Last night? No, I didn't. Ginny fell asleep on the sofa so I went up to get some work done. Why?"
She waved it off with a laugh. "No, it's nothing, I just thought someone answered the phone, but no one said anything, so I was just wondering…"
He cleared his throat and pushed his headache out of his mind for now. From the looks of it, he had bigger things to worry about. The way Angelina was acting was suspicious… or, rather, it was as though she was suspicious of something. Maybe Ginny really did lie to her and Angie knows it.
He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, and motioned to where Ginny and George were having an animated conversation by the kitchen isle. "Maybe she answered the phone herself and doesn't remember. She was pretty hammered last night."
Angelina gave him an odd look and he swallowed, making sure to keep his smile as natural as possible. If Ginny really had lied, Harry was sure—or at least hoped—that she had a good reason for it. There was no need for him to let Angelina know that she'd been lied to—especially since it seemed like it had something to do with him.
Angelina finally nodded and looked towards where her husband and sister-in-law were, a somewhat worried expression on her face.
"It's just…" she trailed off, and Harry bit back a sigh. These women and their apparent inability to get to the point.
"It's just what?" he prompted, and she turned back to look at him.
"It's just that Ginny took the phone out of her coat, this morning, when I asked her about it…"
"OK," he said, raising his eyebrows. "So what?"
"No, but, if she really did answer it, why would she go all the way to put it back—"
"Look, Angie," Harry interrupted. "Ginny had quite a bit to drink last night, and if she could climb up the stairs to my study, I'm sure she could go put her phone back in her coat or whatever. I don't know why you're so worried about this, but whatever it is, don't overthink it. I'm sure it's not all that big a deal."
She nodded and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right, I'm just being paranoid for no reason, sorry."
Harry glanced towards where Ginny was laughing at something George was saying. He caught her eye, and when she smiled, he looked away, as though he was guilty of knowing something he shouldn't have known. He turned to Angelina and gave her a small smile.
"Don't worry about it. We've all been a little paranoid lately."
A/n: A/n: A huge thank you to all those who have reviewed, favourited and followed this story!
I especially love writing the kids, and that first bit was so much fun to write because they're such adorable munchkins. Any thoughts so far would be highly appreciated, and while I know that a lot of you think you know what Ginny's up to, that's not it ;P
Reviews are received with open arms as always! Constructive criticism and your thoughts, especially.
Lots of love~
Arty xx
