Chapter 17
Standing on the front walk leading up to the Burrow, Harry finds it hard to ignore the last time he stood here with Ginny. Was that really just a week ago?
Ginny's hand slips into his, squeezing firmly. "Ready?"
"We really have to do this," he says, mostly to remind himself. Sooner or later, this meeting with Ginny's family is going to happen. Of course, right now, later is sounding much better.
"I'm afraid so." She gives him a bracing smile. "Just remember, you're brave to the point of stupidity. You're the bloody Chosen One. You can handle my parents."
He doesn't find that particularly comforting.
Turning towards him, she fiddles with his collar, smoothing it down. "Okay. Then just remember that I love you. And that they do too."
He touches her waist, leaning down to let his forehead rest against hers, focusing on the way she centers him. He's more than half-tempted to just Apparate away with her, maybe back to Grimmauld so he can more thoroughly demonstrate how much her being here with him means.
She lifts up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before carefully wiping away any sign of her gloss. "More importantly, if you don't do this, you'll never eat my mum's treacle tart ever again."
He lets out a reluctant laugh. "Well then, I guess we should go in." He hugs her tight against him one last time.
She firmly grips his hand again as they head up to the house. It seems very quiet—no loud voices or faces peering through curtains.
"Hello," Ginny calls as she opens the door, the two of them stepping into the entryway.
Molly peeks her head out from the kitchen. She looks between them, eyes lingering on their hands. "Oh. Arthur!"
Ginny gives Harry's fingers a reassuring squeeze while they wait for her dad to appear.
"Ginevra," Arthur says, folding a newspaper under his arm as he steps into the hall.
Harry can see his own face peering sullenly out from the front page.
"Hey, Dad," Ginny says, voice casual and easy, like she can somehow force all the weirdness out of the room.
It doesn't particularly work, the rest of them standing about awkwardly.
"You know Harry," Ginny says, something like amusement lacing her tone as she gestures towards him.
"Of course," Molly says, stepping forward to give him a hug. Harry ducks his head to let her kiss him on the cheek. "Hello, dear."
He gives her a fleeting smile. "Hey, Molly."
It's Arthur who solemnly holds his hand out to shake as if they are just meeting for the first time. Harry dutifully grasps his hand despite how ridiculous it feels.
"Come into the sitting room," Arthur says.
Harry's certain he's never heard Arthur sound so gravely formal in his entire life. He glances at Molly but she just shoos him after Arthur with a warm smile. Having no other real choice, Harry trails after him, Ginny right behind.
"Please, sit down," Arthur says, gesturing towards the sofa.
When his back turns, Harry shoots Ginny a look, his eyes wide. She shakes her head, clearly at a loss with her father's behavior too.
That is in no way comforting.
Harry takes a spot on the sofa, Ginny refusing to cooperate when he tries to leave a respectful distance between them. She instead sits down practically on top of him, her hand resting on his knee. Harry might find that more comforting if it weren't for the way Arthur is acting like he's going to kick him out of the house at any moment.
"So," Arthur says from his place in a chair opposite them. "Tell me about yourself, Harry."
"Dad," Ginny says, clearly exasperated. "You've known him since he was eleven."
"I'm sorry," Arthur says, unmoved. "I may have known a boy since he was eleven, but that wasn't a boy who was sneaking around with my only daughter."
The cautious smile Harry's been trying to cling to finally slips fully away, his back straightening. It's not that Arthur doesn't have a point, but Harry also didn't really expect to hear him put it like that. He glances at Ginny and she gives him a look like, Hey, you're the stupidly brave one, remember?
"What would you like to know?" Harry asks, trying to match Arthur's strange politeness.
"Well, what do you think a father would want to know about the boy seeing his only daughter?"
"Having never been a father, I couldn't really say." This immediately strikes him as a stupid thing to say considering the specific acts that lead to fatherhood. The ones he's spent the last 24 hours rather emphatically engaged in with his daughter.
Harry ruthlessly focuses his mind back on the topic at hand, praying that his neck is not as red as it feels.
"Why don't you try imagining?" Arthur says.
Harry shifts, and it's only then that he registers how tense Ginny has become next to him. He feels an unexpected flare of anger. "Would you like a resume?"
Ginny groans under her breath, like she was hoping for a little more brave and a little less stupid.
"Excuse me?" Arthur says, eyes narrowing.
It's not exactly unexpected, Arthur being upset or treating him this way. Harry's ready to suffer through a lecture, find a way to control his temper, but there is no way he is going to sit by and let Ginny be made to feel bad in her own bloody home. By her father no less.
"To be honest," Harry says, steadily looking back at the man he's known for nearly a decade. A man he has respected and looked up to as one of the few steady presences in his life. "I don't think you really care about how many NEWTs I earned, or my job prospects, or a detailed accounting of my finances. Maybe some character references from friends?"
Arthur gives him a dangerous look. "I don't?"
Harry forces himself to hold Arthur's gaze, somehow knowing that to flinch now is to lose. "I'm pretty sure all you want to know is that I love your daughter."
Ginny sucks in a breath, her hand tightening on his leg, but Harry keeps his attention on Arthur. His expression hasn't shifted, still bland and stoic.
Harry brazens on. "And I do. Very much."
If Arthur has a problem with that, he's just going to have to find a way to live with it.
There's a long tense moment where they simply regard one another, Arthur stoic and Harry unbending. It feels as if it stretches on for an eternity, Ginny's arm still stiff against his.
Then Arthur's lips twitch, just the tiniest movement, and all at once Harry can see so clearly how much Arthur has been taking the mickey.
"Merlin," Harry bursts out, slouching back in his seat.
Arthur chuckles, slapping his leg. "Your bravery never ceases to impress me, Harry."
"Dad!" Ginny complains.
But Arthur just sits back, clearly pleased with himself as he steeples his fingers, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. "A father only gets to do this so many times. You should have seen how much Hermione squirmed."
"I never knew you were so sadistic," Harry says, pressing a hand to his chest.
Arthur laughs again.
Harry glances over at Ginny, feeling like he's wandered into some sort of strange dreamland.
She lifts her hands. "Hey, don't look at me. You had plenty of time to run away from the bedlam that is the Weasley clan," she says. She gives her father a beady glare that would have sent any of her brothers diving for cover. Arthur just smiles pleasantly back at her. "And I would in no way blame you."
Harry shakes his head, nudging Ginny's knee with his own. "I'll take my chances."
Ginny smiles, her fingers lacing through his. "You are stupidly brave."
Harry grins back, his thumb dragging across the sensitive skin of her palm.
Arthur clears his throat.
Ginny takes it in stride, but Harry's pretty sure he looks guilty.
"I would actually like to know how this happened. When it…started?" Arthur says, making a vague gesture between the two of them.
"Dad," Ginny admonishes, looking mortified.
"I'm asking him when he first started having feelings for you, Ginevra."
She has the grace to blush, slumping back in her seat with a pout. It's pretty fun to see her reverting to petulant child, now that he's fairly certain Arthur isn't going to chuck him out of the house.
"I was too stupid to realize it at the time," he admits, giving Ginny a fond smile, "but probably back in fifth year, the day she yelled at me and called me a hypocrite."
Ginny covers her face with her hands, groaning.
Arthur smiles. "Was she right?"
Harry nods. "Of course."
Ginny peers through her fingers to glare at him.
"And you, young lady?"
Ginny shakes her head, clearly unwilling to play this game. "I've always had a hard time with the obvious."
"Like when not to lie to your parents?" Arthur asks, voice light.
Ginny shifts her seat, looking discomfited.
"I think you've had your fun, Arthur," Molly says from the doorway.
"Ah, yes," Arthur says, slapping his knees. "That should keep me for a nice long while. At least until Percy finally stops trying to hide that nice young man of his from us."
"The rest of your brothers should be here soon," Molly says. "They all seemed quite interested in being exactly on time."
Harry looks at Ginny in alarm. "Why do I feel like I am doomed?"
"Can't be worse than that," Ginny says, giving her father another glare.
Harry isn't so sure.
Molly smiles and shoos them out onto the porch. Ginny offers to help finish with the cooking, but Molly won't have any of it. Maybe, Harry suspects, because she knows they should relax before the rest of the family arrives to indulge in their own forms of torture. Or maybe because of Ginny's propensity for burning things.
"Sit," Ginny says once they are outside, guiding him to the bench surrounded by many mismatched boots.
He wonders if he looks a little pale, and tries to give her a bracing smile. "That wasn't so bad."
Ginny shakes her head, sitting down next to him. "I still can't believe he did that."
"Right now I'm more worried about your brothers, to be honest."
She winds her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder. "They'll behave if they know what's good for them."
He smiles down at her. "I'm curious."
"What I'll do to them in retaliation?"
"No. The real answer to your father's question."
She looks up at him in question.
"When you first, you know, knew," he clarifies.
"That I had feelings for you?"
He nods, feeling foolish to ask, but wanting to know.
"You mean besides the first time I ever laid eyes on you, Boy Who Lived?" she asks, eyelashes fluttering and voice clearly self-deprecating of her childhood crush.
His lips twitch. "Yes. Besides that."
She sits up, rubbing at her forehead. "Honestly? Probably the day you came to the cloister to ask me about Draco."
Harry immediately knows what she's referring to—the day back in his sixth year when he'd really put his foot in it, demanding Ginny tell him what Malfoy was up to. The terrible row it had turned into. "Oh," he says with a wince.
"Yeah," she says, nodding. "It wasn't when I started having feelings for you, but it was the first time I was forced to admit they existed."
Harry frowns. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs. "I was far too angry for it to ever have been about Draco. I was hurt, thinking that I didn't mean anything to you after all. I guess I took it as just more proof that you could never—" She breaks off, biting her lip and looking out over the yard.
More proof that he would never want to be with her, that he could never feel this way about her.
She lifts her chin, looking back over at him, a shaky smile on her lips. "If I hadn't hoped for more, why would I even care?"
"I was an idiot," he says fervently, knowing that making her think he didn't care was probably the last thing he ever would have wanted, even back then.
She gives him an indulgent smile, leaning into his shoulder. "Yes, you were. But I don't think either of us were particularly at our best that day."
"Kind of you," he says dryly.
"I wonder what it says about us that we both realized our feelings during a fight."
Harry laughs. It probably says a lot.
"Now I'm curious," Ginny says, propping her chin up on his shoulder.
"Must be contagious."
She pokes him in the ribs. "That day we argued in the cloister, there was a moment…"
"Yeah?"
"When I tried to walk away, and you caught my arm." Her eyes slip distant as if she's remembering the exact feel of the moment. "I thought for a moment you might…"
"Kiss you?" Harry says, knowing exactly the moment she's referring to.
Her eyes snap back to his face. "Yes."
"I almost did," he admits, remembering the rash impulse so clearly. "I wanted to." If he'd been able to ignore the fact that she was Ron's sister, that she was in Slytherin, that as far as he knew at the time, she had a boyfriend.
She smiles. "I was so certain I'd imagined it."
"Probably best I didn't," he says. "You were so angry with me you would have hexed me."
"Maybe," she says, not sounding all that certain.
"Maybe?" he asks, surprised.
She bites on her lower lip, something devilish in her eye. "Who knows? Maybe I would have kissed you back."
"That would have been…interesting," he says, unable to resist touching her face.
"Hmm," she agrees, lifting her chin—a clear invitation to do now what he hadn't had the nerve to do then. He's more than happy to comply, and it's not the angry awkward kiss they might have had that day, but something more gentle and sweet and trusting than sixteen-year-old Harry ever could have imagined.
"Seriously," Ron's voice complains, shouting up the front walk. "I don't want to be seeing this every time I turn around!"
Ginny seems inclined to ignore Ron, but Harry pulls back from her, looking over at his best mate as he comes up the porch stairs.
"Ron," he says, all relaxation seeming to leech away as he swipes self-consciously at his mouth.
"Harry," Ron replies, voice painfully flat.
Ginny glances between them as the silence stretches awkwardly. "Right," she says. "I suppose I'll go see if Mum needs help." She looks to him, seeing if he's okay with her going.
He nods, knowing it's probably for the best, no matter how much he isn't particularly looking forward to it.
She squeezes Harry's hand, giving him a defiant kiss before getting up. As she passes by Ron, she says something in his ear that Harry can't hear, Ron scowling in response.
After she leaves, Ron makes no move to take a spot on the bench, instead leaning back against the railing.
"For what it's worth," Harry says, still warily regarding his friend. "I'm really sorry." He's not sure he's actually said that yet.
Ron doesn't immediately respond, his attention on something out to the side of the house. "For which part? Lying to me? Or debauching my little sister behind my back?"
Harry sucks in a breath at this unexpected opening salvo, feeling his temper threatening to flare. "For lying to you," he bites out. He's not apologizing for anything that's happened between Ginny and himself, because frankly that isn't any of Ron's business.
Ron definitely notices, his ears turning red. "Not sorry for the debauching then, huh?"
"You really need to stop saying that," Harry says, hands clenching.
Ron scoffs. "And why is that?"
Harry stands up. "Because she may be your sister, but she's my girlfriend, and I won't have you making it sound like, like something—something shameful!"
"Says the bloke who spent three years hiding it!"
"That was never about being ashamed of it!" Harry says. "You said it yourself. A witch would have to be mental to put up with my press."
Ron rounds on him. "I'm not the press. I'm supposed to be your best mate!"
Harry clenches his teeth, feeling his stomach roil unpleasantly. "You are. You are my best mate."
Ron makes a sound of disbelief, once again looking away.
"But you're also Ginny's brother."
"What," he sneers, "you thought I wouldn't approve?"
"You know what? I wasn't sure you would."
"That's ridiculous! What have I ever done to make you think—"
Harry gives him a look of disbelief. "You've never exactly hidden how you feel about any bloke getting within twenty paces of her."
Ron looks like he might try to deny that, finally rolling his eyes and letting out a breath. "Alright, fine. So it's possible I've occasionally been a bit of a prick when it comes to Ginny's dating habits."
"That's one way to put it," Harry says.
"You can't have thought that would apply to you!"
"You're kidding, right?" Harry has to be the last person anyone would ever want involved with their sister.
Ron blows out a breath, rubbing at his forehead. "I didn't see it, okay?"
Harry frowns, not sure if he means their relationship. "What?"
"Riddle," Ron clarifies. "The damn diary. I didn't see it. Didn't see her that year, really. It happened right under my bloody nose, and I never even noticed, I was so caught up in my own stuff. I swore I wouldn't let that happen again. So maybe I…overcompensated a bit anytime a bloke got near her. I was supposed to not let her deal with anything like that on her own again." He shakes his head, taking a kick at the railing. "'Course, couldn't even manage that, the bloody sodding fucking Carrows."
Harry flinches, remembering what Ginny said in the inquest. Would that have been before or after they tortured me? But this only serves to prove Harry's original point.
"If that was anyone's fault—"
"No," Ron snarls, spinning towards him and jabbing a finger at him. "I chose to go with you and not be at Hogwarts with her. I chose to leave. That was my bloody choice. Both times."
Harry shakes his head. "But I—"
"Christ!" he exclaims, throwing his hands up. "How Ginny puts up with you… You, who honestly thought, I'll just keep this a secret until I figure this Rowle thing out. But you know what? I think you still wouldn't have said anything. You know why? Because there would have been a next thing. And another. Just one more thing to make completely sure." He shakes his head. "You think solving this lantern debacle somehow means Ginny will be safe? That no one will ever come after you again?"
It's like Ron is pulling every dark and horrible thought straight out of Harry's head. "You're saying I should have broken it off with her. That I never should have—"
"No, you bloody moron! I'm saying that you can't keep us safe! She'll never be completely safe. None of us will. No matter what you do. No matter if we never knew you at all. Hasn't all of this taught us that, if anything? We're never safe. You said it yourself in that interview. We just have to choose to live our lives anyway. But you were so sodding worried about keeping her safe that you nearly lost her. Do you even see that?"
Harry drops back down on the bench, digging his fingers up under his glasses, because he can't even argue with that, as much as he really, really wants to.
Ron isn't finished. "And if you think that Ginny, of all people, didn't know exactly what it meant when she chose not to punch you in the goddamn face the first time you kissed her, then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought."
Harry blinks, considering that. Ginny, who never takes a leap without knowing exactly what it means. Who never makes a decision without thinking through every miniscule implication. "God," he says. "Maybe I am."
Ron snorts. "Finally. The first logical thing you've said." The bench sways as he sits down next to him. "Just think, if you'd bloody told me, I could have said this shit to you ages ago."
Harry lowers his hands, looking over at Ron. "I should have. I know that. I really do."
Ron nods, arms still folded firmly. "Why we all put up with you, I will never know," he grumbles.
But he's also sitting there, still speaking with him. Talking sense into him. Despite everything.
"I'm just lucky, I guess," Harry says.
Ron rolls his eyes, stretching his arm along the back of the bench, like he might forgo punching him just this once. Or maybe Ginny threatened him if he tried.
"What did she say to you?" Harry asks.
"What?" Ron asks.
"Ginny," he clarifies. "Right as she left."
Ron huffs. "She told me to remember that she is the arsehole in all of this."
Harry sits up, the bench swaying erratically. "She bloody well is not."
"Oh my god," Ron says. "You'd really fight her over that, wouldn't you?"
"Well, if anyone is an arsehole, it's me!" Hadn't they just thoroughly established that?
"Merlin, you've got it bad."
"Like you're one to talk," Harry shoots back.
Ron snorts, but doesn't deny it. "Personally, I think you're both arseholes."
"Watch it," Harry says, sliding him a look. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about."
Ron lets out a long-suffering sigh, eventually nodding. "Yeah. I suppose it is."
They leave it at that, sitting and waiting for everyone else to arrive. Bill and Fleur get there first. Fleur smiles brilliantly at Harry, but Bill just gives him a stern look only made more menacing by the scars on his face. It's a far too uncomfortable reminder that the last time they saw each other, they'd nearly come to blows.
Harry leans towards Ron. "I don't suppose you'll have my back with your brothers."
Ron laughs, patting him on the shoulder before getting to his feet. "Not a chance."
"Great," Harry says with a sigh.
Everyone starts arriving in swift succession, the Burrow filling up with Bill, Fleur, Hermione, George, and Percy. Only Charlie isn't coming.
"Don't think you're getting off easily," Ron informs him. "I think he's sending an owl."
Right. Not the brother who's an expert at ancient disfiguring curses or the one who specializes in pranks, but the one who works with dragons. How is this his life?
Percy just firmly shakes Harry's hand in that sanctimonious way of his. He's honestly the brother Harry is worried least about. Of course, that should have been sign enough of trouble to come.
Harry tries to pull his hand back, but Percy's grip tightens, pulling Harry closer. "I may not be able to take you in a duel," he says. "But the things I know about regulatory policy could bury you in paperwork for the rest of your life."
Harry's horror must be clear enough, because Percy gives him a self-satisfied little nod and moves past him to say hello to Ginny.
"You're looking a little green, Harry," Hermione says, looping her arm through his.
"Thanks a lot, Hermione," he says, pulling at his collar.
"Don't worry, it won't last forever," she says as if speaking from experience.
He lifts an eyebrow. "I can't imagine they all enjoyed threatening you the way they are so clearly enjoying this."
Hermione scoffs. "You really think they are any less protective of Ron?"
Harry blinks back at her. Of course they aren't. He can imagine it now, each of them giving Hermione a hard talk. "This family," he says, shaking his head with something like awe.
"Yeah," Hermione agrees.
They stand together watching the chaos in front of them. He isn't sure how they ended up here, just endlessly thankful that they did.
Andromeda arrives with Teddy then, and Harry's relieved there's at least one person unabashedly happy to see him.
He scoops Teddy up, the toddler squealing with glee. "How's my favorite godson doing? Blow up anything recently?"
Teddy gives him a toothy grin, swiping at Harry's glasses.
Molly comes over to tickle Teddy's feet, giving Harry a fond smile. "You'll make such a wonderful father, Harry."
Harry almost drops Teddy, putting the squirming toddler down to scamper away.
"Mum!" Ginny groans. "That isn't funny."
Molly just smiles and hums to herself.
Ginny takes Harry's elbow, pulling him away as if to protect him from her mum's baby-scheming. "Surviving okay?"
"Yeah," he says. "Though I'm not sure I'm going to turn my back on any of your brothers ever again."
Her eyes narrow. "What exactly have they—"
"It's fine," he says quickly. "No need to flay anyone."
"Hmm," she says, surveying the room. "You know I like to keep my options open."
The rest of the time before dinner actually goes relatively smoothly. Harry suspects most of that is because Ginny's brothers are terrified of her. That and Molly's chilling glare whenever she feels they are being unfair to Harry.
At the table, Bill seems to be the recipient of those glares more than anyone, something that clearly frustrates him and his attempt to make it so Harry will never feel comfortable sleeping ever again. Just how many elaborate ancient curses can there be?
"Bill," Ginny says, her voice wintry as he very thoroughly describes an Incan curse that turns the victim completely inside out.
Molly and Fleur add their own glares to the mix. Andromeda, for her part, just seems to be taking a lot of amusement in the whole situation.
Bill throws his hands up in the air. "Hiding behind their skirts, huh, Potter?" he accuses.
Harry shrugs. "It's not my fault the women in your family are like a force of nature." He glances down under the table at Ginny's legs as if checking. "Besides, Ginny's wearing trousers."
Bill glares at him for a long beat before bursting into laughter.
Ginny leans into Harry's ear, her hand squeezing his knee. "Stupidly brave," she whispers.
Harry grins.
The rest of the meal passes without incident. At least until Harry eats a rather suspicious-looking bite of mash and spontaneously turns into a ferret.
"George!" Molly bellows.
Ginny stands in the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest while ferret-Harry woefully regards them all from the sink.
George frowns down at Harry, one finger tapping his chin. "Appalling," he declares. "Absolutely appalling."
"Yes," Hermione says, looking furious. "It is!"
George hangs his head in shame. "He was supposed to turn into a weasel. Clearly I didn't get it quite right."
Of bloody course that's the part George is regretful of, the sodding git.
George steps closer to the sink, only to pause when ferret-Harry hisses, baring his sharp little teeth. Ginny can't help but agree.
"This may take longer to sort out than I planned," George admits.
Ginny once again reminds herself that hexing George right now will not help Harry. "Meaning what exactly?" she asks, voice carefully calm and even.
It doesn't seem to fool George. He shoots her a wary look. "Maybe you should go outside and get some air."
"I am not going anywhere," Ginny says, moving next to the sink, Harry not hissing at her.
"I promise, we'll take good care of him for you," George says. "Even make sure all the most important bits are back in place."
"They'd better be," Ginny says, her eyes narrowing. "I've grown quite fond of his bits."
Ron groans and covers his face, but George just leans back against the table as if settling in to get as many details as possible. "Do tell, little sister," he drawls, waggling his eyebrows.
Ferret-Harry's face disappears down under the rim of the sink.
"Sorry," she murmurs to him. She should have remembered that George never steps back from a challenge.
"This will go a lot quicker without you glaring and threatening me every few minutes, too," George says.
"I haven't said a word," Ginny protests, having worked very hard to keep her temper. She'll get her payback at a later time. No doubt Harry will want his pound of flesh once he's back to himself.
"I was talking to Ron," George says, looking at their brother standing a few steps away, staring daggers at George for this transgression against his mate.
"I'm not making any promises," Ron grumbles.
"Right," George says. "No time to waste."
Ginny really should have been prepared for it. In her defense, she's a bit distracted, her boyfriend having been turned into a bloody ferret. But still, she only manages a slight squeak as George disarms her and then bodily shoves her out the back door.
It swings shut with a bang.
"George!" she yells, twisting the knob uselessly, finding the door sealed against her. "I am going to make you sorry you were ever born!"
"Now, now, Gin-Gin," George calls through the door. "Do you want the Boy You Shag back in working condition or not?"
"I'll keep an eye on them, Ginny," Hermione promises.
"It's like she doesn't trust me," she can hear George say.
Turning her heel, Ginny strides around to the front of the house, having every intention of finding her way back in. When she rounds the corner, she finds Fleur and Bill sitting on the porch. Bill is nuzzling into her neck, their hands tangled on her lap as she laughs. Fleur somehow looks even more radiant than usual, the sound of her laughter like liquid down Ginny's spine.
Feeling a little dazed, Ginny shakes her head to clear it. She needs to get back in the bloody house.
Bill looks over as she stomps up the front steps. "Get kicked out?"
She ignores him, tugging at the front door only to find it locked against her. She curses, banging her fist on the door. "George Weasley!"
"Sit down," Bill says.
She turns to look at him, mouth agape.
"Ginny," he says, clearly trying not to laugh as he indicates the seat next to him. "Sit down. Let them handle it. George will do a better job of it without worrying about you ripping his bollocks off and you know it."
Fleur smiles, patting Bill's knee and getting to her feet. "You two talk," she says, Ginny finding herself a bit dazed yet again under Fleur's full onslaught. "I will supervise the boys."
The front door opens easily under Fleur's hand, swinging back shut before Ginny can get a hold of herself. If she weren't so livid, she might find that particular bit of selective magic impressive.
"Sit," Bill says again, this time brooking no argument.
Eyeing him warily, she does as she's told, dropping down petulantly next to him with her arms crossed over her chest.
They sit in uncomfortable silence, Bill regarding her without comment.
"Are you really mad?" she bursts out.
"What?" he asks, looking at her in surprise. "You mean the stuff with Harry?" He laughs. "No. Just having a bit of fun."
"Really?"
"Really," he says, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. "Hell, I actually suspected something between you two, way back. But then I talked myself out of it."
"You did?"
He nods. "That day in hospital with your ribs, you know? Right after the Battle. Harry was standing next to your bed looking like he'd maim the poor bastard who dared try to touch you." He laughs. "And you probably don't remember, but afterwards you were pretty loopy on pain potions. You kept asking for him, like you'd forgotten he was there. Or like…" He looks down at her, his brow furrowing as if something has just occurred to him.
"Like I was worried I'd just imagined him and he was really..." She swallows hard, the word sticking in her throat. "Gone."
He gives her a sympathetic smile. "Even then, huh?"
She nods. "Before he and Ron and Hermione even left."
"That must have been tough."
She looks out over the yard, knowing that Harry leaving was easy compared to him coming back and her not feeling like she was human enough for it to matter anymore. "Yeah."
His fingers tighten on her shoulder. "So at Muriel's that time? At Easter?"
Ginny smiles. "Yeah. We'd been together for about a week."
Bill laughs, something loud and deep and so, so wonderful to hear. "Merlin, that beady old bat." He shakes his head. "Probably knew just from looking at his face. Sitting there like a giant gaping kelpie." His mouth drops open, staring with exaggerated shock.
Ginny laughs, shaking her head fondly. "He never could keep his thoughts off his face." She's never met anyone who could put as much meaning into a simple glance as him.
"You deserve it, you know," he says.
"What?"
"Being happy." Bill looks back into the house through the window behind them. "We owe it to them, to at least allow for the possibility."
She puts her head on his shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. "You know what, Bill?"
"Hmm?"
"You're going to make a really great dad."
For a moment he seems to think she's just taking the mickey, but then realizes she's ferreted out his secret. "How did you…?"
She shrugs. "I doubt anyone else has noticed."
He tugs on her hair. "Minx."
She bats his hand away. "Don't worry. I'm really good at keeping secrets."
"Apparently," Bill says, voice dry.
Hermione and Ron getting married, Bill and Fleur having a kid. It all feels new and fresh, like things starting over again. Like maybe she can have a new beginning too.
She relaxes against her brother's side and waits to be let back in.
"You're just lucky I managed to design the charm to change your clothing as if it's part of you," George says, having declared Harry back to normal. "Otherwise we'd have all gotten quite the show."
Harry supposes minimizing the amount of time he is naked in front of everyone is at least one thing to be thankful for.
"Not that we haven't already all had the intimate experience of being you," George points out with a grin.
Harry groans at the thought of the time they all polyjuiced into him. "Please do not remind me of that."
"It really was very impressive," Hermione says thoughtfully, closely regarding Harry's body.
They all turn to gape at her.
"The charm George created!" she clarifies shrilly. "Not—" She looks at Harry, her cheeks blazing. "I told you I never even looked! Or touched or anything !"
"I definitely did," Ron announces like the arsehole he is, George folding in half as he howls in amusement. "Which is why I know exactly how unimpressive it is."
"I hate all of you," Harry says, as George appreciatively sticks his hand up for a high five from Ron.
Once they finally calm down, George steps up next to Harry. "Alright?" he asks.
"Yeah," Harry says, the lingering sensation of fur making him scratch at his arm. "I really would have preferred anything other than a ferret though."
George laughs, smacking him on the shoulder. "I'll get it right next time, I swear. A full proper weasel. Welcome to the family. Officially, I suppose."
It's probably stupid that of all his encounters with Weasleys today, the most embarrassing one would be the one that does the most to make him feel like things will actually get back to normal.
"Just like new," George announces, his hands lifting in the air. "I swear."
Harry turns to see that Ginny has finally badgered her way back into the kitchen. "He'd better be," she says, voice dripping with all sorts of unspoken promises for later revenge.
George makes a wonky cross over his chest. "All bits perfectly in place."
Harry would really prefer people stop talking about his bits, even as he subtly shifts to make sure everything is where it should be.
"Not that we checked." George pushes him towards Ginny. "Feel free to take him off somewhere and do a more thorough inspection."
Ron groans in complaint.
"Maybe I will," Ginny says, and the next thing Harry knows, she is pulling him into the stillroom, closing the door firmly behind them, the plaits of drying herbs swaying above their heads.
"Uh, Ginny," Harry says as she casts a Muffliato on the door, a single lamp flaming to life. "I'm not sure this is—"
"Are you really okay?" she asks, worry clear in her voice as she looks him over.
"Gin," he says, smiling. "It's fine."
"It bloody well is not."
Her indignation only makes him smile wider. "It's actually kind of comforting, you know?"
She looks at him like he's gone 'round the bend, and maybe he has. "Comforting? Being turned into a ferret?"
He winces. "Okay. That sucked. But it also means they aren't really that mad, right?"
She takes a moment to process that. "And if Ron was that upset on your behalf…"
He shrugs. Maybe it means he isn't going to hate him forever.
"Well then," Ginny says, looping her arms around his neck. "Maybe I'll go a little easier on George."
"I wouldn't go that far," he says, hands on her waist. "I still itch."
She laughs, lifting up to kiss him. Despite how aware he is of her many brothers just a short distance away, Harry can't help but lean into her, deepening the kiss. She makes a soft sound against his lips, her hands sliding up into his hair.
"I really didn't bring you in here for this, believe it or not," she says.
"No?" he asks, sucking in a breath as she tugs at the hem of his shirt, her fingers brushing along his stomach. "Not trying to make sure everything's in working order?"
She lets out a huff, turning her face into his neck. "Well, is it?"
He tightens his hands on her hips, pulling her firmly up against him. "Definitely."
"That is very good to know," she says, dragging his mouth back down to hers.
They do somehow manage to keep their heads enough to stop at a rather heated snog, taking just long enough to maximize her brothers' discomfort, or so Ginny claims.
"You should probably go out first," he says.
Fortunately she takes mercy on him, just giving him one last lingering kiss before lifting the charm and heading out into the kitchen.
It's thankfully empty a few minutes later when Harry emerges, patting his hair and tucking his shirt back in. Or so it was , Bill choosing that exact moment to walk in.
Harry immediately drops his arms, standing frozen.
Only instead of saying anything, Bill rolls his eyes and grabs a bottle of firewhisky from the cupboard before walking back out.
Building enough nerve to go out into the sitting room, Harry sees that Ginny is already on the sofa next to Fleur, chatting easily. She looks up at him. Despite how tempting it is, he stays near the door instead of joining her. He doesn't exactly trust himself near her right now.
She clearly gets that, giving him a little triumphant look before turning her attention back to Fleur.
Harry shuffles over to stand next to Ron and George, Hermione sitting nearby talking to Molly.
"Twig and berries alright there, Harry?" George asks, voice mercifully somewhat quiet.
"Watch what you're calling a twig," Harry says, absently patting at his hair.
Ron snickers, Harry already feeling warmed by that even before taking the mercifully very full glass of whisky he hands over.
Teddy toddles over to confirm that Harry is no longer a furry creature. Harry lifts him up onto his hip. "Suppose you're not the only one who gets to change," he murmurs.
Teddy just rubs at his eye with his fist, pressing into Harry's neck.
"This has all been rather a lot for him, I think," Andromeda says.
"Yeah," Harry says, rubbing Teddy's back. "How about I see you tomorrow, little man?"
Teddy nods, letting himself be handed off to his gran.
After a round of farewells, Andromeda takes the fractious toddler home. Their departure seems to mark some sort of important change, the mood in the room shifting. It takes a while for Harry to notice the looks the Weasley brothers are all sharing with each other.
He tenses, wondering if he's been too hopeful to assume all the pranks and revenge were at an end.
It's Ron who speaks first, voice loud enough to cut through all the other conversations taking place. "What happened with the Carrows?"
Across the room, Ginny's head lifts and Harry can see the way her expression seamlessly shifts as she regards Ron. There's nothing hard or cold, just like a wall has gone up in her eyes.
"Excuse me?" she asks.
Ron doesn't back down. "During the inquest, you said they tortured you."
Ginny doesn't immediately reply, like she's thinking through every avenue, like she's back in that bloody courtroom, and why the hell is Ron bringing this up? But Ron is not the only one intently watching Ginny. Arthur puts his paper asides, Molly gripping his hand as they both watch their daughter.
"I did," Ginny says, voice perfectly composed.
Bill shifts, arms crossing over his chest. "Yet, when you sent a memory to their trial, you picked that one of Neville. Why?"
Ginny glances around the room, no doubt taking in everyone's expressions. "Because what Amycus did to Neville was far worse than anything they ever did to me. And far more…public."
Harry feels his skin crawl, not just at what Neville suffered, but the rather telling way Ginny has just admitted to things happening to her. In private.
"Look," George says. "I know we were berks about the whole Slytherin thing, more often than not. But you're our sister. And we'd like to know."
And it's only then that Harry gets it, understanding that for all Ginny only ever gave slivers of herself to him, she's done the same with her family.
Put on a calm face and people rarely push.
Ginny's eyes flick towards him, just the tiniest movement, and he remembers all the times he's seen her shoulder something on her own, wishing he could do more for her. Wishing he could just be there for her. Having to stand in that courtroom and just watch.
Shoving his glass at Ron, he crosses the room, the movement abrupt enough to garner everyone's attention. There's no space next to Ginny on the sofa, so he stands as close to the arm as he can, wedged in next to a lamp. He's feeling a bit stupid, with everyone watching him, but Ginny's fingers brush up against his almost immediately.
He looks down at her, hand wrapping tight around hers.
She takes a shaky breath and turns back to look at her family. "It probably sounds ridiculous, but I spent the first part of that year trying to convince the Carrows I wasn't a blood traitor. That I was just a Slytherin girl with a wannabe Death Eater tattoo and a family to be embarrassed of."
Her chin lifts, like she expects pushback for that. For her family to be angry or hurt.
"You'd hardly be the only one," Percy says.
Ginny meets his gaze, something in her shoulders softening. "I suppose I was afraid."
Percy's jaw tightens, looking down at his hands.
Fleur makes a soft tutting sound, patting Ginny's knee. "Of course you were afraid. After what happened to you at the wedding? We were all afraid."
Bill and George both look grim, but Percy, Ron, and Hermione seem just as confused as Harry is.
"At the wedding? What happened at the wedding?" Ron demands.
Harry looks down at Ginny, but she's staring straight ahead, her entire body carefully still. "Ginny?"
She doesn't respond.
"You know the Death Eaters came," Bill says. "They were looking for Harry."
Harry's hand tightens around hers, but Ginny still won't look at him.
"There were too many of them," George says with a shrug. "We got overwhelmed. We told them you weren't here, that we didn't know where you were. They didn't buy it, of course. They were too desperate to find you."
Bill nods. "They took Ginny outside. We couldn't see what was happening."
"We could only hear her," George says, face ashen.
Harry is vaguely aware of Hermione letting out a gasp, the way Ron's face pales. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ginny finally turn to look at him, but he can't do it, can't look into her face knowing that happened to her. Happened because of him.
"We kept expecting it to stop, for her to just tell them," Bill says. "But it just went on and on."
"Oh, Ginny," Hermione says, voice horrified.
Harry releases an unsteady breath like someone has punched him in the gut.
Ginny tugs on his hand. "They didn't know, Harry. It wasn't because they thought I knew anything. They took me because I was the youngest. And a girl. They took me because they thought I would be easiest to break. That the others might say something to protect me."
"They should have," Harry grinds out, eyes staring unseeing at the carpet. They should have told them anything to keep that from happening.
"It wasn't because of you, Harry," Ginny insists.
"Of course it was!" How can she even pretend it wasn't?
"No," she says. "They just…they enjoyed it. They would have done it anyway."
Harry squeezes his eyes shut. "You should have just told them! I'm not—it wasn't worth that."
Ginny's voice is hard. "I never would have done that. None of us would."
"It wasn't just you we were protecting, Harry," Bill says. "It was Ron and Hermione too. It was the entire bloody fight. You think we didn't know what was at stake? We knew you three were probably the only hope we had of winning this. And if we had told them, what do you think they would have done to us then? Knowing we'd harbored you?"
"He's right, Harry," Molly says, voice quiet and still. "You know he is."
Harry shakes his head, because none of that fucking matters. All he can see in his mind is Ginny on the ground, writhing under the Cruciatus. Tell us where Harry Potter is!
"Like you wouldn't have done the same for any one of us," Ron says.
George scoffs. "He would do it for someone he'd never met."
"He'd do it for someone he hates," Ron counters.
Harry isn't amused, his whole body vibrating, feeling like he's going to explode with the rage crawling up his throat.
"Mate," Ron says, voice sharp.
Through the noise in his head, Harry somehow focuses on him.
"Don't be an idiot," Ron says. His eyes flick deliberately towards Ginny.
Somehow, Harry forces himself to look down at her, and holding her steady, unflinching gaze is physically painful.
Her chin lifts. "I would do it again."
"Christ, Ginny," he bursts out. "That doesn't make this better!"
She lets out a shaky laugh. "Believe me, I know. I'm the one dating your stupidly noble arse."
He remembers her telling him after Rowle's attack that it was the worst part of everything, knowing that if he hadn't done exactly what he'd done, he wouldn't be him, and fuck, if she hadn't been right. If she hadn't refused to help the Death Eaters, if she weren't staring back at him right now, completely certain in the fact that she would do it all over again if given the choice, she wouldn't be the girl he loved so ridiculously much.
"I hate this," he hisses. "So sodding much."
She winces, looking down at her lap. "I know," she says, voice wavering.
Her hand loosens on his, like she's expecting him to pull away. To maybe start raging or run upstairs, slam a door. Do any of the stupid shit he's done in the past. And, Christ, if part of him really doesn't want to do that. To walk away from the haunting image of Ginny being tortured for information about him.
He looks back over at Ron, just getting a look in return like, well, what are going to do about it? Like the pranks and the threats were meaningless next to this, the real test.
With great effort, he forces himself to ignore every stupid impulse and instead sit on the arm of the sofa, his hand squeezing around hers. "What happened next?" he asks, no matter how much he doesn't want to hear a single sodding detail.
She looks up at him, clearly surprised, studying him as if to judge his sincerity.
He steadily holds her gaze.
She licks her lips. "They left. Went to look for you somewhere else. But one of them—Rookwood, I think—he told me that if he found out I was lying, he would come back and kill my entire blood-traitor family. That he'd enjoy it."
Harry closes his eyes, wanting to rage against that, feeling that rotting away in Azkaban somehow would never be punishment enough.
"So you pretended you were telling the truth," Bill surmises. "Let the Carrows think you knew nothing. That you were a harmless little pureblood."
She nods. "I did. It seemed…safest." She looks at her father. "I even tried to believe it myself, because we were just supposed to carry on, right? Because it was safer ."
"Not safer," Arthur says. "Just what we had to do."
"Did they buy it?" Harry asks.
Ginny shakes her head. "The Carrows are easily manipulated, but they aren't stupid. So it worked for a while, but as they started to lose control of the students, they began to suspect me more and more."
"Is that when…" George asks.
She nods. "Something happened and they decided I was behind it. So one day Amycus held me back after class. He took me into his office. Alecto showed up too, and they started questioning me. I told them I didn't know anything, but they didn't believe me. And so they tried other methods."
"Such as?" Bill says, voice hard.
She shrugs. "Crucio a couple times. And then Alecto…" Ginny touches the corner of her mouth. "She thought maybe if she made me less pretty I would be more willing to talk. They liked to do that, visibly mar students so everyone would be able to see what happened if you crossed them."
"But you still didn't talk," Ron surmises.
"I might have if it had gone on any longer. I don't know. Because Snape showed up. He mocked their unsophisticated methods and kicked them out of their own office, telling them he would take from me what he needed."
Her brothers, if anything, only look more uncomfortable. "And what did he do?" George demands, hand rubbing absently below his missing ear.
"Nothing," she says.
Bill's eyes narrow. "What do you mean, nothing?"
"We had a nice chat about nothing in particular and then he sent me on my way."
"I don't understand," Bill says.
"He saved you," Hermione says. "From the Carrows."
Ginny looks over at her, nodding. "Yeah. He did. Not that I realized it at the time."
"You didn't know?" Ron asks. "That he was really on our side?"
She shakes her head. "Not until after, when Harry told me. I assumed he was exactly what he appeared to be—a proud Death Eater, a loyal servant. A murderer."
George frowns. "Didn't that make you suspicious? Him just letting you go like that?"
Ginny gnaws on her lip, glancing up at Harry. He realizes now why she hadn't suspected Snape. He rubs his thumb against the back of her hand, knowing she's teetering, trying to decide what to share, what to expose.
It's something you can do, not who you are.
"No, it didn't," she says, still not looking away from Harry.
"Why not?" George asks.
She takes a careful breath. "Because he knew there was no point in trying."
"Because you didn't do it?" Bill asks.
"Because he'd trained me far too well and he knew it."
The room is silent as that tidbit lands, the implications of it.
"As an Occlumens?" Bill says. "But at the trial you said…"
She turns back to her family, chin lifting. "I lied."
Harry watches that information settle throughout the room. Percy and Hermione look horrified, probably more about lying to the Wizengamot than the fact that she's an Occlumens, but George, Bill, and Ron just look impressed.
"Christ," Bill says. "The Wizengamot never really stood a chance, did they?"
Ginny shakes her head, dismissing every truly impressive thing she did that day. "Being an Occlumens isn't what saved me. It was all of you."
And maybe she's right. Maybe that's the part that she really needs to remember. That no one is ever going to let her face any of that alone. Not anymore.
"And did you do it?" George asks. "Whatever they suspected you of?"
"Of course I did," Ginny says.
Her brothers laugh in appreciation, but Molly and Arthur are still watching their daughter closely. Harry can see the tight smile on Ginny's face that says she isn't quite so ready to be amused by whatever it was she'd done. There are clearly still secrets there, more things Ginny isn't sure how to talk about.
She leans into Harry's side, and he wraps his arm around her.
"Dessert!" Molly announces, clapping her hands loudly as she gets to her feet. "Everyone back to the kitchen."
After another moment of resting against him, Ginny stands to follow. Harry pulls her to a stop, letting everyone else file out first. She turns back to look at him in question.
He pulls her closer, hands tight around hers as she comes to stand over him. "I'm sorry," he says.
Her shoulders bunch up like she's preparing herself for another fight. "Harry. You couldn't possibly have known that they would—"
"No," he says, insides still quivering with rage over the very thought of what Rookwood did to her. He swallows it back, knowing that right now, this is more important. "I meant for how I reacted."
Her shoulders relax. "Harry," she says, shaking her head. "I know it can't be easy to hear."
He lets out a humorless huff. "A lot easier than living it, I reckon," he says. "You shouldn't have to, you know, worry about if I'll flip out on you on top of all of that."
She moves closer, stepping between his legs as he sits perched on the arm of the sofa. "You didn't."
He shakes his head. "I just, I know it probably doesn't seem like it, but I am trying."
She touches his face. "I am too."
He pulls her into a hug, her arms wrapping around his head as he leans into her chest.
"Oi," Ron calls from the other room. "We aren't saving any of this for you, so get a move on!"
Harry pulls back from her with a sigh, their quiet moment clearly at an end.
Ginny grins ruefully down at him, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. "Just focus on that treacle tart, love."
"Better be worth it," he grumbles, heaving to his feet and letting her lead him into the kitchen.
After dessert, Hermione and Fleur both plead exhaustion, leaving the siblings on their own. Looking between them all, Harry offers to help Molly with the dishes.
"Suck up," Bill accuses.
Harry just flips him off as he disappears into the kitchen, clearly done taking any crap from any of her brothers.
Ginny looks nervously around at them, but they don't seem to be treating her any differently, either as something to fear or someone to be coddled. Instead she just feels relief, like she won't have to spend so much time keeping everything so perfectly separate.
Percy sits down on the sofa next to her as George flicks through the channels on the wireless. Percy is perched on the sofa as if his back is incapable of relaxing.
"Hey," Ginny says, nudging his arm.
He darts a glance at her. "I wish I could say I was afraid," he says, looking down at the glass of firewhisky in his hand as if it's a foreign thing. His cheeks are flushed and she wonders how much he's had. "That isn't what made me do it. Turn my back on all of you. That was just me being an idiot."
"You figured it out," Bill says.
Percy startles a bit, like he thought they were having a private conversation, despite how loud he's speaking. "Eventually. Too late ."
"Percy," Ginny says, feeling the guilt and loathing radiating off of him.
"Then it was the fear," he says to her, head nodding as he lifts his glass. "That's what kept me there. I didn't know how to get away. How to find any of you. Or if I would just put you in more danger if I did."
"Yeah," Ginny says.
Percy gives them all a bland smile like he's trying to let them in on the joke. "I was their favorite punching bag most days. Nothing like what you faced. Just stupid things like tripping me, making me drop all my files, just so they could laugh about it. Because that's what I was. A joke."
He lifts his glass, giving them all an awkward salute before finishing the rest in one swallow. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and Ginny is certain she has never seen him this disheveled before, shooting Bill a concerned glance.
Bill just gestures at her as if to wait. Her brothers are all listening intently—Ron looking pensive, but George strangely determined, like he's been trying to get this out of him for a while.
A reminder that she is not the only one with secrets, with stories left untold.
"One day I came back to my desk and it was only then I realized some of the files had slipped underneath. I don't know what actually made me look at them. I wasn't supposed to. They made that very clear. But I did. I looked." He lifts his chin as if he'd just admitted to using a cauldron without the right bottom thickness. "They were files on muggleborns. Tracking their locations, listing their family trees. Last places they had been seen. I knew, but I didn't want to know. I tried to pretend I didn't. That they didn't just strip them of their wands, but also 'relocated' them. I knew it meant Azkaban. I knew they were sending them there. That they weren't coming back."
Ron and Bill share a dark look.
"What did you do?" Ginny asks.
Percy gestures his glass emphatically. "I destroyed them. Burned them up. I didn't really think. I just did it. Then I spent the next week waiting for someone to come for me, to throw me in Azkaban. But they never did." He frowns, his brow creasing. "They watched me so closely all the time. Especially after you all went into hiding. But after that sometimes…sometimes I could fall and look like an idiot, and some of those folders would just…disappear. I decided if anyone asked, I could pretend to be so embarrassed that I did it to hide my mistake. I just…I hoped maybe it meant they would stop looking for those people. That they wouldn't exist anymore. That they could be safe."
Ginny sucks in a careful breath. She's heard things of course, bits and pieces of what happened during the war, but it had all been so distant from her own struggles.
Percy turns to her, his expression bleak. "I know it wasn't enough. I know it's not like what you all were doing. I know I should have done more."
She reaches out and clasps his hand. "You did what you could. You acted when you had the chance. That's more than a lot of other people did."
"That's what—" he breaks off, clearing his throat. "That's what my friend is always telling me."
"Smart bloke," Ginny says. "You should bring him by some time so I can tell him so."
Percy's eyes widen.
She leans closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "No need for both of us to make that mistake."
"I hope you're happy," Percy blurts.
"I am," she says. She glances at Bill. "Because we deserve it. At least to try for the possibility."
Bill nods. "Sounds like something a really smart, handsome person would say."
"Well, if you're all done with your sob stories," George says, "let me remind you of my own daring exploits on Potterwatch—the single most important contribution to the entire war effort."
"Fuck you," Ron says. "I rode a sodding blind dragon out of Gringotts. Nearly lost my arm escaping a Death Eater." He yanks down his sleeve. "Still got the scars."
"I'm sorry," George says, "I can't hear you out of the ear I don't have."
Bill falls forward laughing.
"Like you're one to talk," George says. "What did you do during the war besides hang out in a seaside cabin and shag your wife?"
Bill doesn't seem offended, lifting his glass and grinning back at his brothers. "Why, yes, I was the only one of you getting laid. Talk about a war effort."
Ron and George boo him loudly.
"I think you shouldn't assume things about us," Percy abruptly comments.
Everyone in the room swivels their heads to him before bursting out into laughter.
"Perce, you dog!"
"Sounds like we're sharing a different type of exploit now," Ginny says.
"No," Bill says, wagging a finger at her. "We are not. Because you are still eleven and shouldn't even be hearing about such things."
"Let alone doing them?" Ginny asks innocently.
Ron waves his arms in front of his face. "No, no, no. I will accept that you are dating my best mate, but I will not hear about you shagging him."
Ginny swipes Bill's unattended firewhisky from the table, speaking into the rim. "Only if my privacy charms are strong enough."
The room bursts into noisy complaint as Bill tries to wrestle his glass back from Ginny. George goes back to fiddling with the wireless while Ron yells at him to just pick something for Merlin's sake. Ginny glances at the clock.
"When's your portkey?" Bill asks.
She looks at the clock again, even though she doesn't need to. "Forty-five minutes."
He nods. "Well, as much as you'd love for us to dance attendance on you until then, we all have better things to do," he says, setting his glass aside and getting to his feet.
"We do?" George asks.
"Yeah," Bill says, dragging him up and pushing him towards the door. "We do."
Ron rolls his eyes, but gets up too. "Yeah, yeah." He smacks Percy on the arm. "Time to go."
He blinks up at him. "So soon?"
"Bill's trying to show Ginny we're cool with her and Harry by giving them some time to snog and say goodbye without us having to watch. Be sensitive for once, will you?"
"You guys really are the—" Ginny starts to say.
"The worst," Ron supplies. "We know."
"And here I was going to say the best."
George scoffs. "Yeah, well, try to remember that. Because three years of snogging our baby sister behind our backs is going to call for more than one measly prank."
Ginny kisses his cheek, suspecting that he is not quite so ignorant of how much his stupid prank broke the tension and made Harry feel like he's still one of them. "Feel free," she says with a smile. "Just keep in mind that any affront to Harry is an affront to me."
George pulls a face. "Way to take any and all fun out of it," he complains.
They all troop out, leaving the house finally quiet. Ginny walks through to the kitchen. Harry's there, standing at the sink with Molly. Ginny's about to say something when Harry speaks.
"Molly?" he says, something in his voice making Ginny come to a stop.
"Yes, dear?"
He shifts on his feet, shooting her a furtive glance. "I wanted to say…I'm sorry."
Her mum doesn't even pause in her wand movements. "You don't have anything to apologize for."
"Yeah," Harry says, turning towards her. "I do. Ginny and I didn't handle any of this particularly well, I know. But we really shouldn't have kept it from you and Arthur. Under your roof, no less."
Harry seems to realize what that sounds like a moment too late, looking completely mortified to have basically admitting they've had sex at the Burrow.
But Molly just keeps washing dishes, mercifully letting that slide. "I'm sure you had your reasons, Harry."
"Still," he presses valiantly on, clearly not thinking he should be let off that easy. "I would hate to think that I had, you know, hurt you in any way."
This actually makes Molly pause, turning to look at him. "Harry…"
He plays with a dishrag, twisting it nervously between his fingers. "The thing is, I didn't know what a family was supposed to be like until you and Arthur let me into your home. You're pretty much the closest thing I've ever had to a mother. I'm really sorry I betrayed that trust."
Molly reaches up to touch his face. "What a lovely young man you are, Harry," she says, patting his cheeks. "I know your mother would be so proud of who you've grown to be."
She pulls him into a hug. After a moment, she can see Harry allow himself to relax into it.
Ginny steps back from the kitchen only to bump into her father standing there watching as well.
She looks up at him helplessly. "He says he's not good with words."
Arthur smiles, hugging her into his side and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You'd better not break that boy's heart, Ginny."
She nods, blinking against the pressure in her eyes. "I'll do my best not to."
"That's all we can ask."
"Is it time to go?" Harry asks, walking up to them.
"Just about," Ginny says.
He looks down at her, like maybe he's wondering what she and her dad had been talking about.
"I expect to see you at dinner next Sunday, Harry," Arthur says, holding out his hand for Harry to shake, only this time with a clear gleam of mischief in his eyes.
"Oh, uh," Harry says, darting a panicked look her way even as he shakes her dad's hand.
She lifts an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to realize there's no reason to hide his answer.
"Right," Harry says. "I'll actually be in Ireland next weekend."
Arthur smiles, letting go of Harry's hand. "Oh, I see. When you get back then."
"Yeah," Harry says, running his hand through his hair as if not sure what to do with it now.
"Off with you both," Arthur says with a wink. "Wouldn't do to be late."
Ginny ducks into the kitchen to say goodbye to Molly, meeting Harry out on the porch so they can get back to Grimmauld to collect her things. He's standing with his hands in his pockets, staring out over the yard cast orange in the late evening light.
She pulls the door shut behind her.
He glances back over his shoulder at her. "Well, we survived that more or less, didn't we?"
She smiles, winding her hand into the crook of his elbow. "More or less."
He presses her hand in against his side. "Everything okay?"
She thinks about the fact that very soon she'll be leaving, that they still have so much to figure out. But they also have a plan. They have a way forward.
Leaning her head against his shoulder, she nods. "Everything's great."
"Good," he says.
They stand another long moment, just watching the sky slowly darken.
"Let's go," she says.
"Yeah," he says, hand taking hers.
Together, they set off down the path.
.fin.