Chapter 7
The lump in Harry's throat seemed to be trying to suffocate him. He tried to swallow it, but to no avail.
Fred's funeral. Was there ever a harder day? Ever a harder event?
Ron was wearing a look of shock, as though it had only just hit him that Fred really was dead, really was gone forever. Maybe it had. Harry himself felt that this made it all seem so...final.
He'd accepted the death of Remus and Tonks, and his looking after Teddy was indisputable proof. Even his desperate, grief-filled mind couldn't try to convince him they weren't really gone.
But Fred...how could he be here, saying goodbye to Fred, putting Fred in the ground, when he still half expected him to walk over to him, and tell him about the latest invention, or tease Ron, or...
It was just hard to realise he was gone forever.
Ginny was walking next to him, holding his hand so tightly it almost hurt, but he didn't blame her. Maybe she had to know he was there, really there. That was how he felt. He couldn't let her go just now.
Molly Weasley wasn't crying. Maybe she'd cried herself out. She looked dazed, zombie-like, her face and eyes blank. Next to her, her husband looked helpless, pained.
And George. Well, that was possibly the worst sight. He looked so...lost. He kept glancing around, almost as if he was expecting Fred to appear through the crowd, joking and laughing. As Harry watched, Percy walked over to George, put a hand on his shoulder and said something Harry was too far away to hear. George nodded, and must have said something, for Percy waited a few seconds before speaking again. After a few minutes exchange, Percy squeezed George's shoulder and wondered away. He too, looked lost and pained, and guilty. Very guilty. Harry knew he was regretting being away from his family for the last two years of Fred's life.
So he should be. He left them, abandoned them, even after he knew they were right. He left his mother to cry over him, he ignored his father, announced himself unrelated to his brothers and sister.
He should have been there those last two years, what right did he have to come back now, now when they'd lost Fred?
Then the anger left him as suddenly as it had flared. It wasn't Percy's fault Fred was dead. It was just a cruel joke of fate's that Percy was returned as Fred was taken.
It wasn't Percy's fault. It was, more, so much more, his own, Harry's fault.
"Don't." Ginny said quietly, suddenly, and dragged Harry out of his thoughts.
"Don't what?"
"Don't do the whole "everyone-died-because-of-me thing. And don't deny it. It's all over your face." She didn't sound mad at him, not even a little annoyed. She sounded - understandably - close to tears, and...weak. Her voice was weak.
It upset him to see her like that, because he loved her.
Ha. He loved her. And she loved him. It was crazy.
"You know, it's scary that you know what I'm thinking." He said, and, as he'd hoped, she smiled weakly.
"You know, it's scary that you're so easy to read." She replied.
He really was crazy about her.
He was holding Teddy again. The baby was awake, looking around himself with interest. As they seated, Harry looked down at Teddy, who looked back up at him. Turquoise hair today. Harry couldn't help but notice every change the baby made.
The lump in his throat expanded as they took their seats, but he wouldn't succumb to tears. He was going to be strong today, hold it together for Ginny. Somehow, he felt that if he fell apart it would make it worse for her. He felt that only one of then could break down at a time.
It was a good system that had worked so far.
Halfway through the proceedings, Teddy, bored, started to gurgle and coo, seeking attention. "Shh, shh." Harry hissed hurriedly, but next to him, George grinned.
"At least someone's enjoying themself. Give him here." He whispered, and obediently Harry passed Teddy over, where George sat murmuring to him.
George kept hold of Teddy throughout the service, and Harry wondered if the weight and warmth of the baby was giving George comfort. He hoped so. When they rose, to go back to the burrow for the wake, George didn't hand Teddy back and Harry didn't ask. If he helped, George could hold Teddy for as long as he needed.
"Harry. Hi." Angelina Johnson found him in the kitchen at the Burrow. Her eyes were swollen - she'd evidently been crying recently - and she looked at him sadly. He knew she and Fred had been friends, and he knew they'd gone to the Yule Ball together, but he didn't know if there was more to them than that.
"Hi. How are you?" Harry asked. There was still a mark on her face from where she'd been cut at Hogwarts, but she looked, otherwise, physically OK.
"I'm fine." She said automatically. "You?"
"Fine." He replied, again auto-matically. Both grinned, both knew they were lying. Harry glanced around looking for George - or rather, Teddy - and saw him stood at the other end of the kitchen, talking to Alicia Spinnet.
"She'd been going round to see him a lot lately." Angelina said, smiling. "Making sure he's OK...making sure he's eating...sitting around for hours and talking...Or so she says."
"You think they're together?" Harry asked, surprised. He'd had the feeling that secrets didn't last long in the Weasley household.
"If they aren't now, they will be soon." Angelina shrugged. "Well, see you around, Harry."
"Yeah, bye." Harry watched her wonder over to Lee Jordan, who hugged her, then turned away to look for Ginny. He found her, seconds later, walking towards him.
"Hey." She said tiredly.
"Hi." He said softly. "How're you holding up?" She shrugged.
"I'm tired." She murmured. "Everyone keeps asking me stuff. Just...stay with me a while. Then I don't have to talk."
"OK." He said quietly, and drew her towards him.
----
"It is a nice place." Charlie Weasley said, the following Tuesday night, moving back into the living room.
"I know." Harry siad proudly. His own house. His very own house. He did, of course, owe Grimmauld Place, but that was Sirius house, the place Sirius had hated, and Harry had no intention of living there. He'd have to think of what to do with it.
It was a few more hours before the Weasleys - barring Ron and Ginny - left via the fireplace, leaving Hermione, Ron and Ginny with Harry. They were staying with him for this night, this first night. He hadn't asked them to, and they hadn't really offered. They just didn't leave.
He liked that. As much as he loved the place, as proud as he was to own it, it was going to be weird, living here alone.
"I better put Teddy to bed." Harry said eventually. For the moment, Teddy's cot was still in Harry's room. He wasn't willing to risk having a wall between them, however over-protective it seemed. "Uh, I'll sort out camp-beds in Teddy's room." He added.
"I'll make up the sofa." Ron nodded.
Up in his new bedroom, Harry looked around. It was strange to find a place that had only his own things in - apart from the cot, of course. But every room he'd ever slept in had had other people's things in it. There had been a few items left in his cupboard for storage, his bedroom at the Dursley's had been full of Dudley's things, his dormatory at Hogwarts had been shared by four other people, and Ron's room had benn, obviously, Ron's room.
He wasn't used to seeing only his own belongings in a room. It was a strange feeling.
"Night-night, Teddy." Harry murmured, putting a teddy wolf in the cot with the boy, making sure it was far enough away so Teddy couldn't smother himself with it. The wolf had been Ginny's idea, the day they'd gone to Diagon Alley, and Harry had readily bought it. It just fit, a wolf. Teddy's dad was a werewolf, and Harry felt it was symbolic.
"D'you think he'll sleep alright? New place and all that?" Ginny was stood in the doorway. She had a skill for approaching people silently. It was unnerving sometimes.
"Yeah, I think so. He slept alright when we moved him into the Burrow. Well, mostly." They both smiled, remembering the nights spent downstairs.
"Will you sleep alright?" He asked carefully.
"Yeah. I'll be OK." She shrugged, and looked him dead in the eyes. "We'll be OK."
"Yeah." Harry murmured. "I think we will."
