I stood just inside the front door that night, clasping the Veritaserum vial so tightly in my hand that it was becoming slippery with sweat and my knuckles were beginning to ache and turn white. I peered out one of the narrow windows that framed either side of the doorway and watched as my mother helped Sam unload his bags from the car before giving him a kiss. I fought the urge to start retching.

He had just returned from Greece and my mother had spent the last five minutes before his arrival primping herself in the hall mirror. Then, when the car had pulled up, she had dashed out to meet him. But only after instructing Julian and I to be nice and polite and respectful. We promised we would. And it was the truth. I was going to be nice, polite and respectful, but to myself and to my dad, and ultimately my mother. She had no idea that the toxic relationship she had was with Sam, not my dad. She had no idea just how badly she needed to get herself out.

I had told Julian about the Veriteserum the second we had gotten home. Mostly to prevent him from jumping on Sam the moment he saw the filty git. I wanted him to know there was a plan to out him once and for all. He had grinned at me before agreeing with what Fred and George had said. If anything went wrong, he'd be the first one to give Sam the punch in the face he deserved.

I watched as my mother and Sam walked up the front walk together, each holding one of Sam's bags. I watched as they both laughed and Sam put his arm around my mother, kissing her temple as he did so. For a second it looked so believable. They looked so normal and so truly happy. It was weird. Because maybe my mother's reaction was genuine, but I knew Sam's was not. He was just that good of an actor.

And for a second, I felt sad. If it turned out that Sam was framing my dad and he did confess tonight, would it break my mother's heart? Probably. Could I put her through that? Despite all the ways she had hurt me in the past and despite the resentment I held for the way she made me feel, I hated the thought of hurting her feelings in return. I just wasn't that kind of a person. I didn't like to fight fire with fire. My mother's divorce from my dad hadn't only been an ending for me, but her as well. And if she did really like Sam, then this would be another ending to something she thought was good. And I knew what that felt like. But that was the problem. She thought this was a good relationship, but it wasn't. Not at all. And she needed to see that. This needed to be done. Her continuing to date Sam would do us more harm than good, and after all I had been through at the hand of this one man alone, I needed this and I thought that I actually deserved it. I deserved to know the truth and I deserved justice. And so did my dad. His freedom was the most important thing right now.

"It almost looks real, doesn't it?" Julian asked from his position at the window on the opposite side of the door.

"I was just thinking that," I answered, stepping away from the window and looking at him. "You ready?" I asked, holding up the vial before slipping it into my back pocket.

He nodded and smiled. "Ready."

"He'll probably want something to eat when he comes in," I said. "And then all we'll have to do is figure out when-" I abruptly stopped talking as the door opened and Mum and Sam came inside. My stomach instantly clenched at the sight of him in our house again. It was gross.

"Lilah, Julian," Sam said with a smile. "Good to see you two again."

I bit down on my tongue slightly as I tried to force back all the horrible things I wanted to say to him.

"Didn't you two hear him?" Mum asked, giving us a look. "Sam's speaking to you."

"Good to see you too," I said flatly as Julian simply grunted out a greeting beside me.

"You'll have to excuse them," Mum said. "It's been a long day. We spent the morning cleaning the house up for your arrival and then Lilah and Julian went to the Burrow for a bit."

I snorted. Mum had said we had spent the morning cleaning, but it was more like me and Julian had while Mum had gone into work for a few hours. Not that her own work was less tiring than cleaning, but still, she didn't have to make it look like she had a part in the clean house when she really didn't.

"Ah, still friends with those Weasleys?" Sam asked with a slight smile.

"Yes," Mum said curtly, "they are."

I fought the urge to scowl. I hadn't told her about me and Fred yet, mostly because I wanted to wait until we got Sam out of the picture. I wanted to tell her, mostly because I didn't want to keep my relationship with Fred a secret, but if Sam found out that Fred and I really did end up together after that article had been published, he'd have some kind of twisted field day.

"Are you hungry?" Mum asked Sam. "We have leftovers from last night. Meatloaf. Lilah made it. It was actually pretty good, believe it or not."

"It's actually Mrs. Weasley's recipe," I said, trying not to roll my eyes at my mother's surprised tone.

Sam made a face-subtly, of course, but still noticeable. "Really," he said flatly. He sighed. "Well, I suppose that'll be fine. How about a firewhiskey to go with it?"

I glanced at Julian, who smiled slightly and gave me a small nod.

"Yeah, I'll go get it," I volunteered.

"And I can go heat up the meatloaf while you put your things away," Julian said, gesturing to Sam's bags.

Sam looked at us for a moment before smiling. "Thanks. That sounds great. I'll leave my bags here and maybe one of you two can actually bring them upstairs later," he said. "It's been a long day and I'm aching to put my feet up." He grinned before heading off to the living room, my mother on his heels.

I groaned in disgust once they had left the room. "He's ridiculous," I said.

Julian smiled. "I know. But with any luck, he'll be out of here in no time," he said. He tilted his head towards the kitchen. "Come on, let's go get his dinner ready and once he takes one sip of his firewhiskey, he'll be spouting the truth in no time."

I nodded and slid my hand into my back pocket, wrapping my fingers around the vial and giving it one quick squeeze before removing my hand and following Julian into the kitchen.

Five minutes later, we joined Sam and Mum in the living room. Sam was sitting on the couch while Mum busied herself with lighting a fire. Julian handed Sam his plate of food while I set the open bottle of firewhiskey down on a coaster that I arranged on the coffee table.

"All set?" I asked with a smile as I reached back and touched the now empty vial in my back pocket, almost as if I had to make sure it was still there and hadn't fallen out onto the floor in plain sight. Or as if it were a reminder that this was it. This was our plan and it could be what finally set the truth free once and for all. The moment was only seconds away now.

"All set," Sam repeated, the smile I hated so much crossing his face. "Except..."

"Except what?" I asked.

"Maybe another firewhiskey," Sam said with a smirk. "One that you haven't tampered with."

Julian and I both gaped at him. "What are you talking about?" I asked, composing myself enough to look innocent. I glanced at my mother, who was still across the room and out of earshot. Thank goodness.

"You set the bottle down with the top off," Sam said. "Seemed a bit unusual. I just had to kind of wonder...why would you do something like that? Why would you care when normally you'd assume I'm more than capable of doing it myself?"

"Just trying to be a help," I said, forcing a smile on my face.

Sam smiled. "It's no secret I'm not your favorite person, Lilah. It's no secret you have no desire to do anything for me that would be a help. Plus, theres something in your back pocket that you keep touching. Looks like some kind of vial to me."

I fought the urge to swear. Why did I have to bring attention to the stupid vial by fiddling with it? Stupid. So, so stupid.

"I don't know what you're trying to do here, but I suggest you drop it," Sam said. "Unless you want me to have a talk with your mother." He smiled and tilted his head towards the other side of the room, where my mother was standing.

Julian and I both scowled. "Does this really make you happy?" I asked. "Manipulating teenagers? And all for what? So you can steal money from a charity? Is that the only reason why you're with my mother? First it'll be the charity money, then it'll be her money."

"Ah, so that's what this is about," Sam said, leaning back against the couch and noding slowly, his smile widening. "I figured you'd start desperately grasping at straws once you found out about your dad. Look, you're smart kids. Figure it out. I know he's your dad, but the guy's a loser and-"

"Drop the act," Julian snarled, crossing his arms. "And we already have figured it out."

"Unfortunately, no one will believe you without actual evidence or proof," Sam shrugged. "And you don't have any yet. Meanwhile, your father's going to be awaiting a trial that may or may not take place this summer. The Ministry's been split about whether or not he deserves one. If it were up to me, he would've been tossed in jail already. I mean, there was actual proof. The key was in his flat. How can you two ignore proof like that?"

"Because he's our dad and we know he would never do something like that."

"Looks like you're in for a rude awakening then," Sam retaliated. "Sometimes a person doesn't turn out to be who you thought they were."

"Clearly," Julian snorted, looking Sam up and down menacingly.

"Lilah, Julian," Mum said airily, returning from lighting the fire in the fireplace. "Have you taken Sam's things upstairs yet?"

"No," I growled.

"Well, get to it," Mum said with a smile. "They can't stay out in the foyer, that's for sure."

Julian and I turned and left the room in a hurry. As much as I didn't want to do anything to help Sam, being in the same room as him was way more excrutiating, so taking his bags upstairs was actually kind of a reward at the moment.

"What are we going to do now?" Julian asked. "Get more Veritaserum from Fred and George?"

"I suppose, but I'll bet they've already started using it for their inventions," I sighed, levitating Sam's suitcases up the stairs with my wand as Julian and I trailed behind it. "Besides, Sam already knows we tried to use it and it would be harder to try and use it again."

"Maybe not," Julian said. "Maybe since he already knows we tried it once, he won't expect us to try it again."

I shrugged. "Maybe, Jules, but I don't know..."

"Okay, so what do we do, then?" Julian repeated. "We're back at square one. And Sam's right. Time's ticking. If dad goes to trial, all the proof points to this being his fault. So we have to get evidence before that. We have to prove Sam is guilty so Dad can be released and Sam can go to jail."

I let a puff of air out of my mouth. "I don't know. I've honestly got nothing. I feel like an idiot."

Julian sighed and leaned against the doorframe to his bedroom. "We'll talk to Fred and George tomorrow. Figure something out. Four heads are better than one. And maybe Ron or Percy or someone will have some ideas."

"Percy?" I asked. "He'd kill us all if he knew how sneaky we were being."

"Yeah, but maybe he has an idea that...isn't so sneaky," Julian answered. "He is the 'smart Weasley' after all." He smirked as he made quote marks in the air.

"They're all smart," I said with a smile and a roll of my eyes.

"I know that. Hence the air quotes," Julian said. He paused. "But that sounds good to you?"

I nodded. "Sounds fine. Just as long as someone comes up with an idea that works. I don't care who it is."


"You mean to tell us that Sam knew you put something in his drink just because you handed it to him with the top off?" Fred asked, his mouth agape. He sighed and leaned back in his desk chair as he swiveled it around. "Bloody hell, this guy is good."

"It makes sense, I suppose," George said slowly. "I mean, it would be easier for Lilah to just hand him the bottle as it was. And it's no secret that she's not his biggest fan, like he said. Why would she go the extra mile?"

"Yeah, but making the jump between actually going the extra mile or doing something nice to putting something in his drink is..." Fred trailed off and shrugged. "I wonder if he gets his drinks spiked often. Or maybe he's the one doing the spiking." He made a face as I snorted.

"Well, he also saw me touching the vial in my pocket. So, I guess it's my fault."

"No, Sam's just...really smart and really perceptive," Fred said with a sigh. "I hate to say it, but it's true. I guess it's kind of like George and I. Years of being sneaky makes you really in tune to when other people try their own hand at it."

"But the only difference is that you two use your powers for good," Julian said.

"That's actually up for debate," I snorted as Fred flung a pillow at my head.

"You must be disappointed," George said. "Way more so than you're letting on."

"Sure," I answered, looking up. "I am, but I think I need to focus on a new plan right now instead of moping, don't you think?"

"We do," George said with a smile. "In fact, you practically stole the words right out of our mouths."

I smiled back, but before I could answer, the sound of raised voices sounded from downstairs.

"Wonder what's going on," George remarked.

"Maybe Mum's yelling at someone," Fred said eagerly. "Let's go check it out. I do love it when someone else is on the end of Mum's anger for once."

"But if there's an argument going on, shouldn't we keep it...private?" I asked as I watched the twins stand and cross the room to the door.

Fred snorted as he reached out to grab the doorknob. "It's not private anyway. If we listen hard enough from here, we could hear everything. But why do that when you could get front row seats?" He smiled and tilted his head towards the hallway. "Coming?"

I looked at Julian, who shrugged. Finally, I sighed and stood up before following the twins out of the room, Julian on my heels.

A few steps down the stairs, though, the twins came to an abrupt halt and looked at each other in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Julian asked.

"It sounds like Percy and Dad arguing," Fred whispered.

"So?" Julian asked.

"So Dad usually leaves the yelling to Mum," George hissed. "Mum yells at us all the time, but Dad's only shouted at the two of us once. When Fred and Ron tried to make an Unbreakable Vow."

I snorted before my face became serious. The twins did have a point. Now that they were mentioning it, I had never really heard or seen Mr. Weasley get mad or raise his voice. He did usally leave it up to Mrs. Weasley, who did enough yelling for both of them when she was angry enough.

"And," George continued, "he's arguing with Percy. Mum and Dad never argue with perfect Prefect Percy."

Fred grinned. "This I've got to witness for myself. I wonder what he's done to get yelled at. And by Dad, no less." And with that, he took off down the stairs, the rest of us following close behind.

When we got to the kitchen doorway, we came to another abrupt halt as we all gaped at the scene. Percy and Mr. Weasley were standing in the middle of the room on opposite sides of the table, their faces red and contorted with anger as they yelled at each other. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, was standing on the opposite side of the room, watching in shock as tears filled her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks.

"I never thought you of all people would be this illogical!" Percy shouted, pointing a finger at his father.

"Me?" Mr. Weasley shouted back. "Me? I never thought you would be this illogical! This-this-untrusting! Harry saw You-Know-Who come back with his own eyes. Dumbledore believes him."

"The Minister himself does not believe You-Know-Who has returned," Percy argued. "He is largely responsible for the safety of the wizarding world. Don't you think he'd be the first to admit the worst so that he'd be able to do his job and keep the rest of us safe?"

"He's obviously not doing his job if he's refusing to take action," Mr. Weasley said. "How else do you think that girl died, Percy?"

"There were plenty of dangerous obstacles in that maze!" Percy cried. "People have died in that tournament before!"

"So you're saying that this tournament," Mrs. Weasley finally piped up shakily, "this tournament that your brothers competed in, wasn't that safe after all? That Dumbledore and the Ministry didn't do anything and everything in their power to make sure that what happened before didn't happen again? That it would be entirely safe this time?"

"Didn't you see it for yourself?" Percy practically roared. "They competed against a dragon and were forced to stay underwater for an hour! Did you notice or are you blind?"

"Do not talk to your mother that way!" Mr. Weasley shouted as the twins let out identical cries of anger at Percy's addressal of his mother, which finally drew attention to the four of us in the doorway.

"You four stay out of this," Percy said. "It doesn't concern you."

"We could hear you arguing from our bedroom!" Fred shouted. "And it does concern us when you're talking about how safe everyone's going to be now...or not. And it does concern us when you start talking to Mum like that."

"Really, Perce, that's not like you," George added.

"You're too young to understand!" Percy said. "Who are you to tell me what's like me or what isn't?"

"We're of age!" Fred and George shouted. "We have every right to know what's going on. We're adults!"

"You may be of age, but you're still just teenagers," Percy scoffed. "You know nothing. You're still in school. You haven't even set foot out in the real world yet, so it would do you good to keep your mouths shut about things that you couldn't possibly know a thing about, much less actually understand."

Julian and I looked at each other in shock. We didn't know what to do. The polite thing to do would probably be to leave and let them argue in private. But we had heard this much already and I suddenly found myself rooted to the ground. I couldn't move or walk away even if I wanted to. It was like a car wreck or something. Awful and horrifying, but hard to look away.

"And what do you understand, Percy?" Mr. Weasley was asking. "Do you have your own understandings or are you just going by what Cornelius Fudge has been saying?"

"And what about you?" Percy asked. "Have you been doing the same with Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore knows what he's talking about! He's one of the greatest wizards in the world! And you've known Harry for years! You mean to say you don't trust him after all this time? You don't trust Dumbledore after all the years you went to school under his watch?"

"Harry had been through a lot at the time of the tournament's end," Percy said dismissively, flapping one hand around and using the other to adjust his glasses. "He had been through an enormous amount of stress. He probably didn't know what he was saying."

"Wow, Perce," Fred snorted, "your head really is too far up the Minister's ass."

"Watch your language," Mr. Weasley snapped at Fred.

"Well, it's true!" Fred exclaimed. "He's choosing the Ministry over us!"

"Is that what you're doing, Percy?" Mr. Weasley asked, turning to look at his third eldest son. "You were right when you said that you were of age and had some time out in the world. You can make your own decisions now, but you also have to be prepared to face the consequences."

"What consequences?" Percy snorted. "The Minister says that You-Know-Who is not back, and I believe him! I think it makes sense! You people are entirely too ready to jump on the bandwagon just because Harry Potter saw it happen and Dumbledore believes him. A girl dying in the tournament does not mean the darkest wizard of all time has returned. It just means exactly what happened: that she died in the tournament. People die every day and it does not mean that You-Know-Who has returned. Why would you want to take precautions for something that isn't happening? That's only going to put people into a panic that we don't want or need. Is that what you all want?"

"What we want," Mr. Weasley continued, "is for people to be informed. Correctly informed. We want them to be prepared for the worst and we want them to be safe and well protected. But none of that will happen unless the Minister admits the worst and listens to the advice Dumbledore gave him."

"He doesn't need to listen to Dumbledore's advice!" Percy cried. "He's the Minister of Magic! It's his job to do what he sees fit."

"Wow, Perce," George snorted. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart, mature one. But instead, you're being idiotic this time, not us."

"What is this fight even about?" Fred asked, looking his older brother up and down scathingly. "What made Perce decide to show his true colors?"

"Your brother has gotten a promotion," Mr. Weasley send tensely. "He's been offered the position of Junior Assistant to the Minister."

"Why?" Fred and George cried. "Didn't he get in trouble over the fact that he didn't report that Crouch was being controlled by You-Know-Who?"

Percy let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. "Mr. Crouch was not being controlled by anyone. He got sick. Went mad."

"Sure he did, Perce," Fred muttered sarcastically.

"I think Fudge only promoted him so that he could have a spy," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "He wants Percy to spy on our family and on Dumbledore."

"How dare you!" Percy suddenly roared, smacking his hand down on the wooden table so hard that I was surprised it didn't break. I flinched and turned away at the sound. Then, I gently grabbed Julian's hand.

"Maybe we should-," I began in a whisper, but before I could finish, I felt something grab my other hand. I looked up to see that Fred had slipped his hand into my own. He wasn't looking at me. Instead, he was still vigilantly watching the argument in front of him, his expression stony and his face red with anger. But he had grabbed my hand in a signal that he wanted me to stay. So I did.

"How dare you say that!" Percy said. "How could you believe that all my hard work wasn't the cause for this promotion. You know how much work I've put in to get a job like this and when it happens, you immediately think it's because the Minister is using me to spy on you? I've had to work extra hard after I was originally hired at the Ministry. I had to work extra hard to make my own impression and not withold the one you have!" He jabbed his finger at Mr. Weasley in anger. "I've worked my tail off for years and that is what got me this far. If only you had the same ambition, the same could have happened to you. But you don't. You have no ambition and that's a big reason why we're so bloody poor!"

Everything seemed to dissolve into an uproar at once. Fred and George let out cries of anger and lunged at Percy, which I could understand, even if I didn't like it. But what surprised me was that Julian did the same thing. It took all I could to grab ahold of my brother and yank him backwards. But I couldn't hold him, Fred and George back. Luckily, though, Mr. Weasley grabbed the twins and held them back, away from Percy, who frowned and stepped backwards, watching his brothers struggle and protest against Mr. Weasley.

"Boys!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "Calm down!"

"He's the biggest bloody idiot on the planet!" George yelled.

"How can he think he can just get away with yelling all that stuff at you?" Fred added. "Just let me punch him once to get it out of my system!"

"No!" Mr. Weasley yelled as Fred and George continued to shout over him.

Finally, there was the sound of loud clanging. We all looked up to see Mrs. Weasley banging a whisk against a metal pot. "Quiet!" She yelled. "Now!"

The kitchen fell into immediate silence that was more deafening than the yelling, if you wanted my opinion. I took in all the red, angry faces, including Mrs. Weasley's. She was still standing there holding the pot and whisk and it would have been funny if it wasn't so serious. And scary. I had witnessed-and even been apart of-my fair share of family arguments. But watching another family argue was always bad enough. And this arguement was pretty bad. It was terrifying.

"Percy, dear," Mrs. Weasley finally said, her voice quiet now and her face melting into a tired, sad, hopeful smile. "You don't mean what you said, do you? You just said it in the heat of the argument. "

"No, I do mean it, Mum," he said firmly. "I do. And if you are going to refuse to take the Ministry's side-" he shrugged. "The Minister has made it clear anyone siding with Dumbledore can clear out their desks. So the second he finds out for sure where Dad's loyalties lie, Dad gets fired. And that'll be on you because my loyalties lie with the Minister. And if yours don't, then-" he took in a breath, "then I intend to make certain everyone knows I'm no longer associated with this family."

"What?" Mrs. Weasley asked her voice coming out in a squeak.

"Fine," Mr. Weasley snapped. "I guess you'd better get started, then, because I've already told you how I feel. I believe Dumbledore and that's final."

Percy nodded curtly. "Okay, then that's that. We'll be free of each other in about twenty minutes. That's all I'll need to pack my things." And with that, he stormed out of the room, brushing past me and Julian, who were still standing by the door.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mrs. Weasley promptly burst into tears. I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I felt like I shouldn't have been there any longer. Despite what Fred had wanted, it hadn't been right to stay and listen to the entire fight.

"Erm...Julian and I can leave and give you all some privacy. We shouldn't-"

"No," Fred said sharply. I blinked in surprise and his expression suddenly relaxed and softened as he realized how harsh he had sounded. He looked at me with a half-smile. "Stay," he whispered.

"I don't think I was meant to hear any of that," I muttered awkwardly, fiddling with my sleeve.

"Well, you did," Fred said. "And it doesn't really matter to me. If you hadn't witnessed it for yourself, I would've ended up telling you anyway."

"It's your family's business," I said. "It's private."

"And you're basically family anyway," Fred said. He met my eyes. "Stay. Stay for dinner. Please?"

I glanced at Mrs. Weasley, who was busy at the stove, wiping her eyes every few seconds and not paying any attention to us. Mr. Weasley had taken a seat at the table and was rubbing his hands over his face.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll stay."

Just then, there was the sound of loud thumping from the stairs. I glanced around the corner to se Percy dragging his trunk down the wooden steps, another bag slung over his shoulder. "Perce..." I began, not even sure what I would say to him if he let me speak. I half-hoped he would realize how much he was hurting his whole family by doing this. That, most likely, once he calmed down and had a chance to think, he wouldn't feel this way. But he paused and met my eyes for only a fraction of a second before brushing by me again. Then, he made a beeline for the door, opened it, stepped outside and let the door slam behind him. This brought on a new wave of tears from Mrs. Weasley.

Fred and George both glared at the front door before looking at their mother, who was being comforted by Mr. Weasley now.

"What an absolute git," Fred said hotly. And with that, he and George stormed out of the room and up the stairs. Julian and I stared at each othere before glancing back at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They still weren't paying attention to us, so we took the opportunity to follow the twins up the stairs. On the first landing, we came to a stop as Ginny's bedroom door opened and she stuck her head out, her face as white as a sheet and her expression a mix of shock, fear and sadness.

The twins hadn't noticed their sister and were continuing to head up the stairs, talking to each other in low voices, most likely about Percy. I turned to my brother. "I'll take Ginny, you take the twins," I whispered. "Tell them I'll be up in a bit."

Julian nodded and jogged up the stairs after the twins while I turned to Ginny. "You heard?"

"I heard all of it," she said. "Every word. It got kind of loud."

I took in a slow, deep breath before letting it out just as slowly. "Can I come in?" I gestured to her bedroom with a tilt of my head.

She nodded and stepped aside. "Yeah, of course."

I walked inside her room, which was sunny and bright, light pouring through the window that had a great view of the yard. Ginny sat down on her bed and I gingerly took a seat next to her.

"I can't believe he left," she finally whispered sadly. "He's my big brother and he just walked out on us! I mean, I was prepared for him to move out on his own; I've gone through that twice now with Bill and Charlie. And they moved all the way to Egypt and Romania! Bill's back now, but..." She trailed off as she seemed to realize that she was rambling. "I just wasn't prepared for one of my brothers walking out on us-possibly permanently. This is different than him simply moving out."

"How could you ever be prepared for that?" I asked. "It's not something you usually have to worry about being prepared for."

Ginny shrugged. "I always knew Percy was ambitious and that he loved his work. But for him to disagree with Dad like that and tell Dad he had no ambition at all...It doesn't seem like him. I always thought that in the end, he'd choose family over his work. I can't understand why he didn't. And it hurts, you know?"

"I do," I said, reaching out and wrapping my arms around her, pulling her to me in a hug. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed. "I mean," I continued, "I've never had a family member walk out on me, but...I know what it's like to feel as if someone you love is choosing other things over you. Whether it be work or another person who you know is going about things the wrong way. And it does hurt, no matter what. It never gets easier, I'm sorry to say. It doesn't feel great to not be put first by the people you thought would put you first."

I heard Ginny sniffle and glanced down to see her lip trembling and her eyes filling up with tears. She was doing a pretty decent job with holding it all in, though. Ginny had never been one to readily break down, especially in front of people.

"Gin?" I whispered. There was a pause that I took as confirmation to go on. "You can cry if you want to. Merlin knows I've become a leaky faucet way more times than I would've liked in the past year. So I'm the last person who will judge you for it."

Ginny let out a quick watery breath of laughter before it suddenly turned into a sob. "Sorry," she said before she fell quiet and her shoulders shook a few times with silent sobs. And then that was it. She sat up and rubbed her eyes as she took a deep breath. "I'm okay."

I stared at her, half in sadness and half in amusement. "Gin...I've done what you're doing enogh times to know exactly what you're doing and why. And you don't have to."

"What exactly am I doing?" Ginny asked innocently, looking at me in confusion.

I sighed. "Okay, fine," I said. "But just know that I don't want you to feel as if-well, if you want to-if you want to just let it all out, you can. As I've said, I won't judge you. None of the people in this house will, actually. Not that we don't admire how strong you are, but...just putting the invitation out there." I half smiled.

Ginny nodded. "Okay. Thank you. That actually means a lot."

I leaned over and gave her another hug and we sat in silence for a few moments until Ginny was called down to help with dinner. The two of us went down together and found Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, her eyes red and puffy, but dry at least. She put on a smile for us when we got there. "I thought we'd eat outside tonight. It's actually a very nice evening, so why not, right?" She smiled again before handing Ginny a stack of plates. "The twins and Julian are outside setting up the tables now. Dinner will be ready shortly."

Ginny took the plates before leaning in to quickly kiss her mother's cheek and heading for the door. Mrs. Weasley handed me napkins and utensils with another weak smile that I returned. "For the record," I said quietly, "I think your husband has lots of ambition."

Mrs. Weasley chuckled and it actually sounded genuine. "Thank you, dear," she said, patting my cheek. "I think so too."

"I'm sorry about Percy," I added.

"Don't you worry," Mrs. Weasley said, turning back to the stove. "He'll see reason eventually. He'll be back before you know it."

I smiled at her. "I hope so," I said. And with that, I turned and headed out to the backyard to help finish setting the table for dinner.