Chapter Eight

"Her dad betrayed you. He tried to give you over to Death Eaters."

"I know, but he only did that because they had Luna. He wasn't in his right mind at the moment."

"That doesn't matter to me. What matters to me is that he did it in the first place."

"Are you going to eat your pickle?"

"Potter!"

Harry blinked over at George, wondering what could possibly be more important than the pickle next to his sandwich that was going untouched. In her right mind, she got it. He was livid that Harry was even considering taking Luna up on her offer. But in the most dominant part of her brain, the one where the pregnancy waves ran most rampant, nothing was more concerning to her in that moment than whether or not he was going to give her his pickle.

She pouted, not the least bit put off over such a childish show.

George sighed, relenting. "Here," he said, handing her his pickle. She didn't miss the twitching of his lips over the way her eyes lit up when she took it. "Baby likes pickles, does he?"

"Baby does indeed," she said, munching away happily. She had already devoured her own pickle nearly whole, and now that George's pickle was no longer a distraction, she felt as though she could properly contribute to the discussion.

Harry had shown up at the shop after her midwtich appointment partly to tell George that everything had gone well and the baby was doing fine. Partly because she missed him a great deal and felt a bit pathetic. When she had gotten there, she could tell that he had worked himself into a state, claiming that Luna had been there just moments before, and that she wanted to be the one who announced to the world that Harriet Potter and George Weasley were together. George didn't want to tell the world just yet, Harry knew. She also knew that Luna terrified the shit out of her prankster. He had been twitchy all day.

When dinner came and he was still in a foul mood, Harriet suggested going out to eat.

After all, what could solve all of the world's issues other than food? At least, in her pregnant mind that had made sense at the time.

She was extremely aware she was the only happy one at the table, having had the joy of two pickle spears at lunch.

"Luna's dad wouldn't be the one writing the article though," Harry said, her mind finally latching onto a decent countering point. "Luna would. I like Luna. I trust Luna."

"She scares me," George whispered, leaning across the table to Harry as if Luna was sitting in the booth behind him. "She scares the living shit out of me. How would I even get through an interview with her?"

Harry beamed at him. "With the incentive of a reward afterwards?"

George's eyes lit up. "What kind of - hey, wait. No. I know what you're doing. Just because we've been on a monster shagathon lately doesn't mean that my brain isn't fully functioning. You can't bribe me with unholy things."

"Unholy things?" Harriet repeated, laughing.

"You know perfectly well what I mean. I'm putting my foot down. I won't be bribed into this interview by my darkest temptations."

"I'm your darkest temptation?"

"No, you are everything good and pure in this world. My deepest, darkest temptations, the things that make me wretched, are what I wish to do with you."

Harry snorted into the final bite of her pickle.

"You know that I'm also a participant in these unholy things," she pointed out, lifting the paper covering underneath her sandwich to make sure there wasn't a secret third pickle hiding somewhere. Disappointment trickled in when she found there wasn't. "Damn."

"We'll stop by the store and pick you up a couple jars of pickles," he said, his eyes following her movements with great amusement. Harry would toss a wadded up napkin at him if he didn't basically just propose to her in the form of multiple pickle spears. Was this love? "And you're only involved because I've dragged you down to my level. Dragged you down and did unspeakable things to you."

"Hmm," Harry hummed, sucking the last bit of pickle juice off her finger. She watched as George's eyes tracked this movement more darkly than the rest. "If I recall, I was the one who showed up to your flat first. I was the one who sought you out and suggested such unspeakable things."

"I think your retelling of things is a bit fuzzy."

"Well, maybe we can sit down and sort out our story," Harry said slowly. "Before we do the interview with Luna."

George's eyes went wide. "Harriet, no! I don't know how comfortable I am with this."

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to pull the 'I'm the one pregnant' card here. I'm going to start showing soon, more visibly than what I am now. We're going to have to tell someone our story, and I am not comfortable with anyone else. I trust Luna with this information, and with us. I don't think she'd spin it the wrong way. In a way that could hurt me."

Like so many other people have done, she thought but kept to herself. Her thoughts flashed to the Prophet article written about them, and, like they occasionally did, Seamus Finnigan. She had never considered herself especially close with Seamus. He had been miffed at her during their fifth year and nearly pulled out of school because of her. He had apologized though, and she had accepted. Much to Ron's disgruntlement. Then during their sixth year he shocked her by showing romantic interest in her. She had turned him down, and though he wasn't as vocal as he had been the year before, she could still tell he was frustrated.

But she never expected him to allow the Prophet to use his words to hurt her. To publicly disapprove of someone she found herself involved with. Seamus allowing someone to use his words against her for a story was more hurtful than the people actually writing them because she knew Seamus. She had practically grown up with him since she was eleven.

It cut in a different way, and far deeper.

George sighed, relenting. "Fine," he agreed. "We can do it, if that's what you really want."

Harry looked at him a bit shyly. Sometimes she was still struck by the fact that they were together. That she had a boyfriend and George adored her, and it wasn't solely her alone in the world anymore. There were times she reached out to take his hand just to have the affirmation of him squeezing back. To let her know that he was there, and she was wanted.

This was one of those times.

"It won't be so bad," she said, stretching her hand across the table for him to take. He did so without hesitation. "The sooner we get the word out, the sooner it will become yesterday's news."

George snorted, giving her hand an extra squeeze. "That's likely. Not when it's concerning you. Not when it's concerning the savior of the wizarding world being pregnant. I don't think it's going to blow over that fast."

"Probably not," Harry admitted. "Who knows though. Maybe a new scandal will break after we announce."

"Like we find out Dumbledore's had a secret boyfriend this entire time and we didn't find out until he died?"

Harry laughed. "Exactly. Now come on. I'm dying for some pickles."

George winked at her, laying down a tip before standing. "Let the weird pregnancy cravings begin."

It was taking everything within George to sit calmly on his couch, and not claw up the wall like some sort of feral animal. He hadn't expected for the interview with Luna to be scheduled so quickly. He thought he had more time to mentally prepare himself for being stuck in a room with her serene stare, but apparently Harry had moved fast.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry whispered, not unkindly. "I've never seen you act like this before."

"Like what?" he whispered back, not so certain that Luna could hear him. She was staring more through him at the moment than at him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. "Like I'm terrified? Because I am? What is she even doing right now?"

Harry cast a look at Luna, her nose scrunching. "She's just sitting there, drinking the tea I offered her."

"She's looking at me. Like at me, at me. I think she's trying to manipulate my aura or something, because I feel like I'm on fire. Did you know she could do that? She practically threatened me with it the other day."

Harry laughed. "Oh my god. You're being such a big baby right now. I'm sure she was just kidding."

"She absolutely wasn't! I think she's manipulating your aura too. You're way too calm about this."

"I am simply acting normal," Harry countered. "You're the one acting weird."

Luna's contented sigh broke through their whispered conversation. Her eyes were fully focused on them now, apparently having come back from whatever alternate universe she was visiting for the past ten minutes. George shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"This tea is lovely, Harry," Luna complimented, lifting the cup to inspect underneath it. George quirked an eyebrow.

"Thank you," Harry said, completely unperturbed by Luna. "It's so good to see you, by the way. Are you going to be returning to Hogwarts next week?"

"I am. I'm quite looking forward to the school year. I've got a feeling it's going to be extremely uneventful. It will be quite nice."

"I'm seeing Hermione off at the train station, so maybe I'll see you too."

Luna tilted her head at this. "You're not returning yourself?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Harry said, shifting in her seat. George noticed the silhouette of her bump against the material of her shirt as she did so. "Just didn't feel right."

"Perhaps that's more of a topic for the interview," Luna said, dreamily. Happily. Creepily, in George's opinion. "The masses will be dying to know."

If anyone else had made such a comment, George knew Harry would have gotten upset. With Luna, however, she laughed. George watched the easy way in which the two conversed and realized for the first time that Harriet's level of friendship with Luna rivaled the friendship she had with Ron and Hermione. She felt at ease around the other girl. Safe, George even suspected. He tried to rein in his fearful nature a bit better.

"Should we get started?" he asked in what he hoped was a friendly tone. Or at least less fearful than before.

"Oh yes," Luna said, reaching behind her ear for the quill that was tucked there. "I'm so happy you agreed to this. My dad is letting me have a more serious role with the paper, and this is my first big story."

George had to refrain himself from snorting over the use of the word serious in the same sentence involving The Quibbler. He thought he deserved an award solely for that. Harriet seemed to know where his mind was traveling, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Of course," Harry said. "There's no one else I trust more."

Luna beamed at this, lighting up the whole room in the process. George blinked a few times at it. She clearly adored Harry as much as Harry did her, the way her smile unfolded at Harry's words.

"I'm honored to have your trust, and I promise not to abuse it," Luna said, sounding very much like she meant it. George's shoulders relaxed. "Now, first things first. How long have you two been together?"

Harry and George shared a glance, both making identical faces of uncertainty. Out of all the little details they had gone over, this was one they couldn't seem to pen down.

"It's a bit fuzzy, to be honest," George admitted. "Our relationship didn't start out in a typical way. We sort of were together before we knew we were. We decided to officially be together a few weeks ago."

Luna paused a bit, taking care to write down each and every word George said herself instead of enchanting her quill to do so.

"So, in a way, fate brought you together," she said finally, setting her quill down to watch their response.

Harry laughed. "Yes. If you believe in that sort of thing."

George wasn't sure he did, but sometimes, like now as Harriet's green eyes slid over to him, he thought he could be persuaded.

If fate existed, it had taken Fred away.

But it had also given him Harriet.

Could something be as kind as it is cruel?

"Your relationship started seemingly right after the war ended," Luna said, moving onto the next bullet point George could see outlined in her notes. It was amazing to watch her transition into reporter mode, though she still asked each question in a dream like state. "Did you find that helped in the healing process? Having one another?"

"I'm not so sure we are healed," Harry said, drumming her fingers in a nervous gesture across her knee. It took a lot for her to admit those words, George knew. "Healing is sort of an ongoing thing, isn't it? It's more of a process than a state of being or what you are. George and I...we both lost big things in the war. Huge things. I'm not so sure we're ever going to get better from the wounds the war left us with. Even when they heal, there is still the scar that remains after."

Harry waited for Luna to finish writing, looking over at George for support. He offered her his hand, running his thumb across her knuckles.

"Go on," Luna said once she was caught up.

Harry swallowed, looking down at George's hand in hers instead of at Luna.

"Of course, that's not to say we don't evolve or change. It's not to say that there aren't moments of being better. Of feeling better. I don't think healing means we're going to go back to who we were before the war. That's impossible. But who we are after is still shaping, and it's important for us to embrace the pain the war left us with so when we do change, it's for the better. We're still being molded into something, and whatever the reason is, we've been chosen to be molded together. And I think...I think we're better together than we are apart."

George watched Harry in that moment. It was as if someone had taken a lid off of a box and all the contents were spilling out. As if she had been processing all of this for ages now, but Luna was a safe enough receptor for her thoughts so they came flowing willingly now. As if she couldn't stop them.

"The war certainly helped in bringing us together," he added, feeling more comfortable with speaking. "And we certainly help carry each other's baggage from the war, but it's more like we go into this black hole together. We take each other's help and guide each other through it, more than focusing on how to get out of it."

"That is a beautiful way of putting it," Luna said, quickly scribbling away. "The healing process is quite dark, isn't it? You're never quite sure where to step. It must help having someone hold your hand through the process."

"It does," Harry agreed. "And I think there has to be some level of understanding that the other person doesn't know what they're doing just as much as you. They're not carrying you through the process so much as they're right there beside you. There could be missteps, but that's okay too."

"Missteps can create a new path," George added.

Luna nodded. "I love that. Now, let's move onto something happier. Something more fun. Did either of you have a crush on the other while at Hogwarts?"

George knew this question stemmed from Finnigan's comment over him and Fred acting like a barrier to Harry in school. If anyone else had asked, he would have assumed them to be nosy. He knew that Luna was simply offering them a chance to explain their side of things.

It made it easier for Harry and him to share a grin before answering.

"We both did," George said. "I had a crush on her first. She was too oblivious to notice me for another year."

"I wasn't oblivious!" Harry protested. "Forgive me for not looking too closely at my feelings until they're right there in front of me."

"Do you even hear yourself? You're the very definition of oblivious."

"Was he your first crush, Harry?" Luna asked, interrupting their bickering.

"Oh," Harry said, blinking. Her cheeks tinted pink at the question as if she and George weren't already in an established relationship and living together. "I guess he was. I never really thought about it that way."

George's head whipped in her direction. "Was I really?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised. It's not as if it's that hard to believe."

"It must have been hard," Luna mused, "to have such a normal teenage experience like a crush, while also having the weight of the war on your shoulders."

George and Harry both stared at Luna. Had she always been this insightful behind her purple tinted glasses? Perhaps George was just too scared of her to notice.

"Oh, um, it was," Harry admitted. "It didn't give me a whole lot of time to think about the crush and how I would like it to go. I was too busy fighting for my life. It almost felt out of place. Sort of...not allowed."

Luna nodded before turning to George. "And you? How did the war affect your crush on Harry?"

"Well, it kept her busy, didn't it? She didn't have a whole lot of time to look my way, so it stayed hidden. At least from her. Other people knew. Where she's pretty oblivious, I'm fairly obvious."

"I am not oblivious," Harry grumbled.

"My next question may help you with that Harry," Luna said, shuffling her papers. "What's something that George does for you that lets you know he cares for you? Something he goes out of his way to do?"

George looked at Harry expectantly. This hadn't been a question they had even thought of. It was light hearted in nature, but also had the possibility of being deeply intimate. He wondered which way she would take it.

"I think…" she started, her eyes looking at a spot on the wall but fogging over so that George knew she was lost in a memory somewhere. "It's the little ways that he touches me as we go about our day. Like how he offers me his hand to hold without me having to ask, or how he reaches out to brush my cheek. When he is about to leave for the day and he kisses me five times in a row instead of just once. Even when he tugs on my hair like a child. I didn't...I didn't grow up like that. I was never hugged or coddled. Sometimes...sometimes I feel touch starved. Almost greedy for it. And George doesn't hold back. He gives willingly. It lets me know he cares about me."

Luna smiled, writing down the words Harry had spoken carefully. George used the moment of silence to give Harry's hand - still in his - another squeeze. He hadn't thought about it that way. He touched her because he wanted to. Because it was like he couldn't stop now that he started. If anything, he was the selfish one. The greedy one.

He thought about what it was like to grow up in a home like Harry's. He knew the Dursleys had never been the most loving family to have, but he couldn't imagine never being hugged his entire childhood. His own mother hugged him all the time. Now especially, she clung to him for an extra moment before he would leave her house after family dinners or whenever she would visit him. He thought of his own child, still growing in Harry's womb, and how they would never have to grow up in a home like Harry had to. Their child would be loved fiercely. As Harry should have been. As she would be now that he had a say in it.

The rest of the interview passed quickly, George having a fire lit underneath him when it came to his adoration for Harriet and was fairly certain that it burned through his answers. It was easier to talk to Luna than he expected it would be. He supposed that it had something to do with the fact that he was talking about Harry, and it was never hard for him to put into words how much he adored her.

Merlin, he was a domestic sap.

Fred would gag if he could hear them giving the interview now.

"I think that's mostly it," Luna said after a while. "Unless the two of you have something else you'd like to add?"

For perhaps the hundredth time that evening, Harry and George shared a look before they spoke. Harry's of uncertainty, George's of support and confirmation. If there was anyone they would trust to break the news of their baby, George now knew that it would be Luna. She would treat the topic with more care and confidentiality than any reporter down at the Prophet.

Harry swallowed. "There is...one more thing. Something we haven't told anyone outside of family, and something that we trust you to handle in the best way possible."

Luna looked at Harry seriously, head tilted. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry opened her mouth before shutting it and then trying again. "There's really no other way to say this," she said, making a face. "Though it's hard to be so blunt. But...we're pregnant. George and I are expecting a baby, and we'd like for you to be the one to break the news."

George watched Luna's expression carefully, wondering how it would differ from his brother's fury at finding out and his mother's thrill. He shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when Luna's full smile unfolded before them. Brighter than anything else in the room. She was practically beaming.

"Oh," she breathed, her quill forgotten in her steepled hands. "How wonderful!"