Chapter 53: Getting the Call

Throughout the long, slightly boring months after we got to Muriel's, I was still buoyed up by the relief of knowing that Harry and the others were safe. The knowledge that all was well, for the moment at least, kept me from becoming too overwhelmed by Muriel, and it was with a light heart that I joined in with Fred and George's enterprises. I even managed to trick them into agreeing to pay me a salary for my work with them. All in all, it was a great time.

I never saw Harry, Ron or Hermione, of course, but there was a profound relief in being able to say that they were okay, that they were alive and well. I knew from Bill that they hadn't finished whatever it was they were doing, and that they spent most of their time in a huddle with a goblin of all things. It was obvious to us all that they were 'up to something,' but that didn't diminish my joy. For now, they were all okay. All the confinement I had to endure didn't matter compared to that.

The sense of joy, new life and hope we all felt in that time was perfectly embodied in one night. A sudden boom crashed through the house when we were all at dinner. I jumped; the shock of the outside world intruding was so great after all this time. Everyone looked nervously at each other. What was going on? The question hung in the air between us all. I slid my wand out of my pocket, and noticed several people around the table doing the same.

Dad took the initiative. I've noticed that he can appear to be a bit wimpy, and often seems silly with his muggle obsession, but at the heart of him is a core of steel. The rest of us were worried and nervous, but Dad looked the epitome of ease. With his wand pointed firmly at the door, he called in a very loud, steady voice, "Who is it?"

"Remus Lupin."

Mum immediately jumped up from her chair in relief, ready to rush to the door and open it, but Dad insisted on asking the security questions. I understood why he did it, but it seemed a little overboard. No-one who didn't have access to our secret-keeper, Dad himself, could have made it as far as the door. Still, Dad loved his little rituals and insisted on asking his question.

"Who was charged with telling you that we all had to go into hiding?"

"Bill Weasley; he told us to perform the fidelius charm on Easter Sunday of this year."

Dad's shoulders finally slumped from their tense, expectant position and he waved the door open with his wand. Lupin ducked into the hallway, looking radiant. His face, for once, seemed unlined and youthful.

"We've had a baby! A boy!"

Mum squealed in joy and pulled him into one of her huge hugs. To tell the honest truth, I was a little misty-eyed as I thought about it. Even though we were still in the depths of the war, there were still these moment of love and excitement. After such a long time, it seemed we had finally begun to get those moments of new hope that I had so longed for while I was still at school.

I looked on with a soft smile playing over my face as Remus showed us pictures of the tiny baby. He was chubby and sweet, yawning with his eyes squeezed almost tight closed, as newborns so often do. I could just imagine Tonks, her hair radiantly pink again, tending to the small boy with a cheerful, 'Wotcher baby!' The thought made me smile again, and I drifted off into my own thoughts until a name caught my attention and I was dragged back to the present.

"Harry will be godfather?"

"Yes, of course. He needs it as much as Teddy does; I think he'll be great."

I may be biased, but I thought he'd be great too, (and I wasn't wrong there; Teddy is a fine young man, and Harry has helped him to get through a huge burden far more easily than Harry, himself, got through a similar one). But it was interesting that Lupin had picked up on Harry's need as well. I mean, Mum had taken him under her wing from such a young age that he had almost been a part of the family for a long time. But it wasn't like having an actual family. I knew, not from what he'd told me, as he never really said that much, but from the way his voice went spiky with desire when he talked about families, that Harry needed roots badly.

Making Harry Teddy's godfather would give him that sense of true belonging, and true family, that he had lost when Sirius died. I clung to my hope that one day I could help Harry have a real family of his own to belong to, but, as he was still nobly staying away from me 'for my own good,' I had to make do with the happy knowledge that now Harry really would have another reason to stay alive, another reason to try and keep himself safe.

Lupin finally left us again, and I thought about how important it was that he had chosen Harry for this role. It went deeper than just choosing Harry because he was still adrift in the world. It also meant that Remus had finally put the huge barney they'd had behind him.

I had heard about the fight something like 5th hand, but I think I got the gist of it well enough. Lupin had tried to run off on Tonks to join Harry's quest, and Harry had rather brutally rebuffed him. I'd been shocked by Lupin's actions, to tell you the truth; he had always seemed to be the epitome of honour and courage and it seemed such a cowardly thing to do – running off on his pregnant wife. But, in retrospect, I could understand the pressure he was under, and the fear that his condition had hammered into him.

One reason the image of a radiant Tonks, and the youthful, boyish happiness that suffused Lupin's face when he got to Muriel's house that night, was so welcome to me was because in the time after his fight with Harry, Lupin had seemed so withdrawn even though he went back home. Tonks had lost her sparkle, and while she attributed it to her pregnancy I was sure it was more than that. The delicate trust between her and Lupin had been strained almost to breaking point, and neither was completely happy.

I wasn't able to see the renewal of their relationship, as I was back at school by then, but Tonks sent me letters and she sounded cheerier in every one. As soon as she opened with, 'Wotcher, Ginny,' I knew she was back to normal, and I whooped with sudden pleasure when I read it. Remus was another story; he moped. Tonks's letters were imbued with a frustration that was never voiced, but nevertheless seeped out of every line.

It wasn't til much later that I heard, via the roundabout Weasley gossip line, that what Harry had said to Lupin had cut him really deeply. I'd known, of course, that Sirius had harboured strong memories of James Potter every time he'd seen Harry, but it hadn't occurred to me that Lupin felt the same way. Having someone who looked so like James tell him he was a coward had really affected him.

I was actually a bit peeved with Harry when I heard about it. Would it have killed him to be a little bit charitable to the man who had done so much for him in his 3rd year, even if he was being a bit daft? But whenever I thought like that, I reminded myself that Harry was an orphan and that growing up without a parent was the worst thing he could imagine for anyone. Still, if even half of what we had been told he had said was true, he was incredibly harsh. So, I was profoundly relieved that two of my favourite people had got past the way Harry had acted, and the harshness of his words. It seemed that now they understood what he had been trying to say.

Every bit of my world had finally come together in some kind of harmony again. I knew that the war was still raging and that Voldemort still had a death grip on the world, but in my small corner everything was bright and serene for once. I couldn't imagine that anything could possibly destroy the sense of peace and well being I had finally attained.

The next few weeks passed pleasantly. The happiness that had crept into our house with Lupin's news remained hovering over us, and everyone seemed a little more buoyed up and hopeful. So I didn't expect the sudden cessation of all serenity when we got the next news from Bill's house. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the goblin they had been holed up with, had all disappeared. Well, technically Bill had known they were leaving, but he and Fleur had no idea where they had gone. I sighed as terror crashed over me again. It had started once more. Our small oasis of calm had dissipated and we were back to the fear and heartache.

I had images of them out there again, being hunted by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw a vision of the way they had been treated at Malfoy Manor. They had escaped from there with help from a now-dead house-elf. Now, however, there was no-one like that left to get them out of trouble. Knowing that they had been locked up and tortured once made me worry that it would happen again, or something even worse. I was sure Voldemort wouldn't stand for any of them, especially Harry, remaining alive if they were caught another time.

Looking back on it, it's incredible to think that all the rest of the war happened during just that one day. Time stretched and it felt like weeks rather than mere hours between the moment Bill flooed us to let us know what was happening and the moment the battle ended. But I'm getting ahead of myself yet again.

It was barely dawn when Bill told us what was going on. I spent that day in an agony of fear. That old bond I shared with Harry seemed to resurrect itself. It had never before manifested when we weren't anywhere near each other. I generally needed to see his face to know what was up, but this day I just knew something was happening. Or maybe that's the romantic spin I'm putting on it from all this time in the future. Whatever the reason, I had a feeling that things were going to come very quickly to a head. That restless, itchy feeling was back, stronger than ever.

Potterwatch was a godsend that day. Fred and George contacted Lee Jordan and let him know that Harry was on the move again. Potterwatch had broadcast the news that the three of them had been captured and escaped the clutches of the evil Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor, of course. They romanticised the escape in the most maudlin way, but it was effective. They had a call-in session after we heard of the escape, and the tone of that show was far more vibrant and happy than any of the previous ones which had been designed to make us support an absent, and somewhat mysterious, figure.

Since the show about the escape from Malfoy Manor had invigorated the wizarding world, of course they were going to broadcast the day of the battle. They wanted to let everyone know that things were gearing up, that there was a sense of purpose to our struggle again. For some reason, they must have felt the same sense of urgency that I did, because there were regular updates over the hours, as rumours came in about what Harry and the others were doing. Some were completely outlandish (they had broken into Voldemort's hiding place and killed Voldemort and all his Death Eaters, for example), but eventually came one that had the ring of truth. According to this one, they had broken into Gringotts and escaped with a valuable cup on the back of a dragon.

On the surface, it sounded as unbelievable as the other ideas we'd heard. But the reasons this one seemed more likely to be real were two-fold. Firstly, there were more details, and, the way the rumour was reported, it just seemed a very Harry thing to do. Secondly, the Daily Prophet ran another strident 'special edition' article about the criminal Potter, his accomplices, and their dangerous status. The dragon was mentioned and the fact that they had stolen a valuable object out of the Lestrange's vault.

Another shiver ran over me. I was pleased, of course, that Harry had once again managed to get away from a dangerous situation, but it set my teeth on edge nonetheless. Danger hung over his head like a sword poised to drop. How many times could he get away with it? How long til the sword fell and his luck ran out? Behind my fear, though, was an immense pride. This was the person I was in love with and this was why I loved him. He was unafraid of facing whatever he had to in order to bring down the bad guys; always going back out into the fray, rather than staying comfortably safe somewhere.

It was while I revelled in the pride I felt, that I heard Mum scream out, 'Arthur! Fred, George! The Order is being called.' Then I felt the coin I still carried in my pocket burn red hot once more, and I knew that this was it. Neville was calling us all to Hogwarts. There was no other reason for both the Order and the DA to be called at the same time. One look at the coin confirmed it; the face was filled with a ruby red circle and the single word, 'fight.' Something was happening at Hogwarts, and we were needed in the battle.