Chapter 77: Harry and the Weasleys

Harry's heart pounded when he approached Ron, but he reminded himself that he had asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball, made a general request for a Yule Ball date to the Common Room moments before the ball started, apologized to Cedric Diggory for nearly killing him, invited twenty people to his birthday party, kissed three different girls at that party, convinced Angelina to create a practice Quidditch team, and led a school-wide riot when Professor Lupin had been sacked.

He could certainly ask his best friend to change his Easter plans.

"What are your parents doing for Easter?" he demanded as he dropped into his usual seat beside Ron. They had somehow managed to be early for Charms; not even Professor Flitwick was in the room yet.

Ron looked at Harry as if Harry were suddenly speaking a foreign language. "Nothing, as far as I know. Why?"

"You never go home at Easter."

"No one goes home at Easter except for homesick little firsties and a few Hufflepuffs. Maybe someone who's got a dying grandparent."

So Ron considered the impending death of someone he cared about to be an acceptable reason to go home for Easter. That was just as well. "I want us to go to the Burrow for Easter if your parents will invite us."

"Why?" asked Ron. "I'll owl at lunch. But why?"

"I didn't visit you last summer and I miss the Burrow." It sounded silly to Harry's own ears, but he couldn't very well tell Ron that he wanted to say goodbye to Ron's parents before marched to his death. At least, he couldn't very well tell Ron if he didn't want to watch Ron turn into an entirely different person, one who was worried and angry and would probably insist on going with Harry to meet Voldemort. Selfishly, Harry didn't want to spend his last weeks with that version of Ron. He wanted to keep Ron the way Ron usually was.

"If you want," shrugged Ron, who clearly didn't understand how a person could possibly miss the Burrow. Ron had grown up in the best home in the world and he didn't even know it.

"It'll be nice to be somewhere where no one's talking about how many hours they study for the OWLs every day."

Ron chortled appreciatively. "That's a good point. Of course, if we bring Hermione, she'll fix that nicely…" He nodded at Hermione as she entered the room, breathless and lugging far too many books, as usual. Harry drank in the sight. He didn't know how many times he would see it again. "You'll want to come, I suppose?" Ron asked Hermione as she deposited her bag beside them.

"Come where?"

"To the Burrow, for Easter. Harry and I fancied a little time away from school."

Harry was so pleased with the way Ron had adopted the plan as his own that he almost didn't notice how pink Hermione's cheeks grew. "I— I can't," she said in a strangely high voice.

"Of course you can," said Ron. "You can be away from the library for a couple of days. We'll even leave you alone at night to study if you want. My parents and my brothers have all taken the OWLs, they'll give you advice if you want, especially Percy, it'll make his day if you ask…"

"It's not that," said Hermione.

"Then what?"

"I've already made plans."

"You never visit your parents at Easter."

"Not my parents."

It was Ron's turn to redden. "You're not going to see Krum, are you?"

"Why not?" demanded Hermione. "I haven't seen him since the summer, and he's always writing how much he misses me…"

Harry was very grateful when Flitwick cast a charm that caused a tornado to rip loudly if harmlessly through the classroom and invited the students to imitate his example. Whatever Ron had been planning to say to Hermione was lost in the wind.

Ron and Hermione were constantly annoyed with each other until it was time for the Hogwarts Express to leave for London.

In Harry's opinion, the Hogwarts Express always had a way of making everything better. He was especially pleased that because there were so few students on board Ron and Hermione didn't bother checking in at the prefects' compartment. Hermione told a few frightened-looking first years to come find her if they needed anything and that was all.

Harry had expected Ginny to join them in their compartment— once Ron had asked about coming home, Mrs. Weasley had exhorted all of her children to accompany him— but instead she stayed with Fred and George. The twins were loudly complaining about the inconvenience of being summoned to the Burrow so soon after they had secured a premise on Diagon Alley for their new joke shop.

So Harry had one last train ride with Ron and Hermione all to himself, and he appreciated every minute of it.

When they reached King's Cross Station, he pretended to have left his cloak in their compartment so he could say goodbye to Hermione alone.

"You're not going to tell me I shouldn't visit Viktor, are you?" Hermione said dangerously before Harry could even open his mouth. "Because I've heard quite enough of that from Ron."

"I like Viktor," said Harry, and it was true. "Dumbledore talked about his strength of character at the Triwizard Tournament, and I reckon Dumbledore's right."

"I'm glad at least one of my friends is happy for me."

"If he makes you happy, I'm happy for you."

"He does."

"He… treats you like you deserve to be treated?"

"Yes." Hermione's face hardened in the dangerous way she usually reserved for Ron. "Why would you even ask that? Because he's the big famous Quidditch star and I'm just a bookworm with frizzy hair?"

"You know I think you're brilliant and you'll probably be Minister for Magic one day. I'd ask that about any bloke you chose because someone has to."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears, and Harry prepared to flee. He never knew what to do when girls cried, even Hermione, who didn't exactly count as a girl. (He knew better than to tell her that.) "Ron wouldn't."

"You know what's going on between you and Ron," said Harry.

It startled the tears out of Hermione's eyes. "I didn't know that you knew."

"I used to worry about it a little. The two of of you are my best friends, and if you cut me out—"

"That would never happen."

"Or if you broke up and I had to go back and forth between you—"

"That might have happened."

"Nothing in my life has ever been as good as being friends with you and Ron," said Harry. He didn't usually say things like that, even though he thought them, and he braced himself for Hermione to burst into fresh tears and hug him as hard as she could.

She didn't. Instead, she stepped back and evaluated him shrewdly. "You're saying goodbye to me."

"Of course I am. You're on your way to Bulgaria, and I—"

"Just happened to forget your cloak."

"People forget cloaks all the time."

"You don't. You grew up with nothing but your horrible cousin's hand-me-downs. Once you got things of your own, you were careful with them."

"Yes, I was careful enough to realize I'd left it and come back for it."

Hermione ignored him. "I won't go with Viktor if you don't want me to."

"I want you to go with Viktor," said Harry even though it was only sort of true. He looked out the window to avoid looking at Hermione and saw that Krum was waiting on the platform. He'd come to meet Hermione and escort her to Bulgaria. That was good. He waved to Krum; Hermione turned around and waved, too. "I'll tell you all about what I'm thinking when we're back at Hogwarts."

"Yes, you will," said Hermione, but the whole of her attention was no longer on Harry, and it was easy for Harry to make his escape in the midst of a furious Ron; a petulant Fred and George; a beaming Mrs. Weasley; a distracted Mr. Weasley; and an eye-rolling Ginny.

Mr. Weasley paid close attention to Harry as they lined up to take the Floo Network from London to the Burrow. "None of you are dragging trunks and owls, so it didn't make sense to borrow a car," Mr. Weasley said with obvious regret. Harry felt a pang of guilt; after all, he and Ron had once borrowed Mr. Weasley's beloved flying Ford Anglia and failed to secure it before it returned to the wild in the Forbidden Forest.

"Have you caught any wizards enchanting Muggles' cars lately?" Harry asked.

"Just one, and he didn't do much of a job of it. He was more of a threat to himself than to the Muggles he was trying to torment. I haven't seen a truly excellent example of that sort of enchantment since— well, since I saw your godfather's motorcycle a few summers ago. He still has it?"

Harry nodded. "He loves it. I'm sure he'd like to talk it over with you again."

"I look forward to it. Now, speak clearly when you step into the flames. I know using Floo Powder doesn't come as naturally to you as it does to someone who was raised in the wizarding world."

"Thank you." Harry accepted the Floo Powder. "Thank you for everything. For letting me visit so many times."

"You're Ron's best mate, of course we'd have you to stay," said Mr. Weasley vaguely before gesturing once more to the fire.

Saying thank you to Mrs. Weasley was both easier and more difficult. Easier because she seemed to understand what Harry was trying to say. More difficult because she cried, and Harry didn't like Mrs. Weasley's tears any more than he liked Hermione's.

She gave Harry a long, tight hug. "You don't have to thank me, dear. It's my pleasure every time we've had you around. I missed you last summer. You know, we would have had you all summer, every summer, if it had been all right with Dumbledore. I was so relieved when Ron wrote me to say the two of you wanted to come home for Easter." She released Harry and cupped his face in her hand. "You're growing so quickly. Going through that stage where boys look like they've had stretching charms put on them. Make sure you eat as much as you want at dinner even if it seems like too much. We have enough."

"You have seven children and you always make room for me." Even after five years, Harry could hardly believe it.

"Once you have seven, a few more hardly makes a difference. Especially a boy as wonderful as you." She hugged Harry a second time. "Now, go find Ron unless you'd like a snack before dinner?"

He climbed the stairs toward Ron's room but paused on the first floor. Ginny's door stood ajar and he couldn't stop himself peeking inside.

Ginny was halfway out the window, a dilapidated broom clutched in one hand. He laughed aloud.

Ginny spun around to face him. "Oh, it's you," she said, visibly relieved.

"I know you said that you used to steal your brothers' brooms to practice flying, but I assumed you stole them from the broom shed, not that you flew out the window."

"Close the door," said Ginny, and Harry did. "All the good brooms are at school. It wasn't worth bringing them home since we're going right back, but it's a beautiful day, and I just want to fly, you know?"

Harry nodded. He understood just wanting to fly.

Ginny grinned devilishly. "You can come, but we only have the one broom. I flew behind you last year, so I suppose it's your turn to fly behind me."

Harry couldn't believe that Ginny was speaking so cheerfully about an excursion that had ended with Ginny under the Imperius Curse and Harry almost killing one of his friends while under the influence of a terrible magical object.

Ginny tossed the broom from one hand to the other. "But if you don't have the nerve—"

"Let's go," said Harry. He had flown with Ginny all year at Quidditch practice, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would be able to bend the old broom to her will even with his added weight behind her.

Ginny kicked off and pulled the broom straight up. "Your balance is wonderful, Harry," she marveled as they soared above the Burrow. "I could tell from watching you, but it's different to feel it."

"I thought the same about you when we flew together last year."

He imagined an alternate reality where he and Ginny had always flown together, where this wouldn't be the first and last time he pressed himself against her back and felt her hair brush his face along with the fresh spring wind. He didn't think he would mind living in that reality.

Ginny swerved from side to side and they both laughed with the exhilaration of it all. "I'm sorry I didn't get to know you better, sooner," he said. For some reason he was barely able to raise his voice above a whisper, but as near as his mouth was to her ear, she heard him.

"I'm sorry I was so silly when we first met you."

"You weren't silly, you were young."

"Young and silly," Ginny decided. "I never should have kept writing in that diary after the first time it answered me."

"I always admired the way you handled that. Having a bit of Voldemort in your head and surviving… well, it's something I'd like to be able to do." She didn't need to know how much.

She laughed again and it was a beautiful sound. "Surviving You-Know-Who is kind of your thing, Harry. I don't know if anyone's told you, but they call you the Boy Who Lived." Ginny executed a neat dive to bring them closer to the Burrow again.

"You're so good on this broom that you could probably turn the Chudley Cannons around."

"I suppose I'd take the Cannons if they were the only team that offered, but I'd rather the Holyhead Harpies," said Ginny casually, and Harry could tell that this was a topic to which she had devoted considerable thought.

"An all-witch team after growing up with six brothers?"

"Exactly."

"I know you'll make it," he told her.

The back of her ears reddened the way Ron's always did when he was pleased. "We should get back before Ron misses you and gets jealous," she said. "According to him, you're supposed to be his mate, you know, not mine or the twins'."

When Harry belatedly walked into Ron's room at the top of the Burrow, Ron was nowhere to be found. Deciding that Ron must have gone down to the kitchen to look for him, Harry jogged back down the stairs. He stopped on the second floor. Percy's room was empty; Percy must have been at work. The door to the twins' room was closed. Harry knocked.

"Come in," Fred and George called in unison.

"Hello, Harry," said Fred.

"Come to apologize for making us come home when we should be preparing for our grand opening?" asked George, but there was no bite to his complaint.

"I just came to tell you how great you both are." Harry tried to make it sound like a joke and hoped that the twins would understand, later, if they needed to.

"We know," they agreed.

"Are you opening as soon as the term ends?"

"The day after we graduate."

"As long as we can get the new fireworks right."

"We open with or without the fireworks."

"It'll be better with the new fireworks."

"What are the new fireworks like?" Harry wanted to know.

Fred shook a reprimanding finger at him in imitation of Mrs. Weasley. "You'll find out when you come to the grand opening."

"Sirius has to be there since he's our backer, there's no way we'd even be opening the shop without him—"

"You're doing what?" asked a dangerous voice from somewhere behind Harry.

Fred and George paled behind their identical freckles.

Harry quickly determined that he would rather approach a resurrected Voldemort, unarmed, than be caught between Mrs. Weasley and the twins on the day she found out that they were planning the grand opening of their joke shop.

Ron seemed to be similarly concerned for Harry's safety and he quickly reached around his mother to pull Harry down the stairs. Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed behind them.

"It wasn't enough that you didn't put any effort into studying for your OWLs? It wasn't enough that you kept inventing new pranks when you could have been preparing for your NEWTs? You took out a loan from a man who spent most of his life in prison to buy a shop?"

"To be fair, he was innocent and he shouldn't have gone to prison in the first place," said one of the twins bravely.

"He went to prison because he was reckless and didn't control his temper! Harry wouldn't have been raised by those horrible Muggles if Sirius had made Harry his first priority! And regardless of whether he belonged in Azkaban, that is where he spent his life. That has shaped how he makes his decisions. What do you suppose he will do if you are unable to repay him? What do you suppose he wants in return for that money? What sort of man makes business deals with children— I don't imagine he waited for you to turn seventeen—and doesn't consult their parents?"

The whole Burrow was shaking with Mrs. Weasley's fury as Harry and Ron sprinted toward the nearest hiding spot: the broom shed. They settled down inside.

Harry knew that it was time for him to find a way to say goodbye to Ron, but he didn't know how to begin.

"I don't fancy being Sirius the next time Mum sees him," said Ron, shaking his head. "Maybe we'd better make sure they're never in the same room."

"That'll be a problem since Sirius is coming to pick me up. I'm— er— not taking the train back to school."

"Why not?"

"Because Dumbledore and Sirius have something they want me to do," Harry admitted, thinking that that much of the truth was harmless.

"Is it about those bits of Voldemort's soul you mentioned last year? Like Ravenclaw's diadem?"

Harry nodded. "That's it, yes."

"Are you going looking for one?"

"Dumbledore says he knows where it is but that I can come help destroy it if I want."

"Wicked." Ron looked delighted. "Don't suppose I could come?"

"Don't suppose your mum would let you go anywhere Sirius is," Harry said, grateful for the easy excuse. "I'm sorry for causing…" he gestured aimlessly toward the Burrow. They could still hear Mrs. Weasley's voice if not her words.

"It had to happen eventually. She's known that they had money from somewhere since last summer. That's why she wouldn't let them come to Florida with Ginny and me. And they couldn't keep hiding that they bought a building."

"But you've always shared your family with me—"

"I have too much of a family. Why wouldn't I share it?"

"Not everyone would. You're the best, Ron. You're the best out of all of them. You're the best friend, too."

Ron's ears reddened. "Why are you being weird?" he asked. "Did someone hex you on the train?"

Harry laughed. "No."

"Did you have a problem with the Floo Powder? Why did it take you so long to come upstairs?"

"I stopped to talk to Ginny and she dared me to jump out a window onto a broom."

"Make sure you don't tell Mum about that. Her food's still great even when she's in a state, but she needs time to cook instead of just yelling. Not that she can't do both at once." Ron made an aimless gesture that made it clear he considered the matter closed. "So tell me about this trip with Dumbledore and Sirius."

"I don't know much."

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Albania, unless something changed."

"The bits of soul can move?"

It took everything in Harry not to touch his scar. "Sometimes. Sometimes he put bits of his soul into something that was already alive. Like a snake."

"Wow. I wish I could come."

"I wish you could, too." It would be easier with Ron by his side. But far too dangerous for Ron. He remembered Lupin's warning that Voldemort had been willing to kill Cedric just because Cedric happened to be standing next to Harry.

"I could help!" Ron continued enthusiastically. "Not sure how, but I could!"

"Like when you beat McGonagall's chess set first year!" said Harry. "And when you went down into the Chamber of Secrets, and Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack…"

"So tell them you won't go without me," Ron suggested.

The request might have been the last Ron ever made of Harry. "I'll ask," he said. He would ask, Sirius and Dumbledore would say no, and Ron would stay safe.

"Brilliant," Ron breathed.

It wasn't, but that was okay.

To be continued

Recommendation:

The Weasleys by Brynmor. It is story number 12384438 on this site.

Summary: AU. Harry Potter always wondered about how easily the Weasley family accepted him. Turns out, he wasn't the first child taken in. So yeah, this turned out darker than I intended. Whoops. One shot.

I haven't been able to get this alternate take on the Weasley family out of my head since I first read it. It's one of those AUs that manages to make its dynamic the same yet different in the best way.