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…

Harry was curled up in bed, reading Pride and Prejudice. Nippy had forced a plate of eggs on him and a bowl of fruit salad and had finally agreed to leave him alone for a couple of hours. He had just got to the bit where Elizabeth meets Mr Wickham and was far more engrossed than he'd expected. Lyra had been right.

He felt slightly calmer than yesterday. He had tried to write in the journal Snape had given him and although he had only managed a few lines, it felt quite nice to have control over what had happened to him. He supposed that was what Snape had been going on about. Now it was nice getting lost in Austen.

Harry laid down the novel when he heard the floo flared. Snape hadn't mentioned anyone coming. Maybe Madam Pomfrey was back. Despite trying to keep his thoughts rational, he couldn't help but feel exposed, lying in bed, still in his pyjamas, alone… he reached for his wand just in case.

The door opened.

Mrs Weasley marched in carrying a large bag.

"Morning dear," she chirped.

Harry sighed in relief and replaced his wand.

"Hi Mrs Weasley. Sorry, I wasn't expecting you."

"Of course you weren't, dear," she said. "Professor Snape mentioned that you were going to be alone for most of the week, so I thought you might like some company."

She summoned the desk chair over to next to Harry's side of the bed and plopped herself down. Harry wriggled a bit, uncomfortable at being in bed in company – it wasn't like he was an invalid, or anything.

"Would you like something to drink, Mrs Weasley?" he asked, trying to be a good host, despite not even being dressed. "I can call Nippy."

"That's all right, dear. I had something before I left. I just wanted to see how you were doing. You had a nasty scare a couple of days ago." She looked at him shrewdly, probably seeing very well that he had not been sleeping well and had spent most of his time crying.

"I'm okay," Harry lied. "Professor Snape gave me this journal thing to write in, which kind of helps and Nippy is making sure I'm eating… and the midwife did a scan, so now there's a picture…"

Mrs Weasley beamed. "That's all lovely, Harry dear. Now, you get started on this, and let me take a look."

Harry's eyebrows skyrocketed as Mrs Weasley heaved her bad onto the bed and opened it to reveal dozens of packages of her specialities. He lifted out a little parcel of vanilla fudge (from the smell of it) and gaped at her.

"I know you love it at Christmas and you deserve a bit of spoiling at the moment," she smiled. "Honestly, it's nice to have an excuse to make so much. Arthur has never had much of a sweet tooth and my lot get embarrassed if I send them too many care packages. I know the fudge is your favourite at Christmas, but you always seem partial to my ginger biscuits when you come to the Burrow. I would have made some treacle tart, but Ron has told me repeatedly that Hogwarts' is better and I do remember that that might very well be the case… I did make some treacle fudge as a compromise, though."

Harry's eyes prickled. He didn't know what to say.

Mrs Weasley patted his hand. "Now, where's that picture?"

Harry swallowed and gestured to the side table, unwilling to even look at the back of the scan picture. He had felt drawn like a magnet to it all morning, but whenever his hand twitched towards it, he had been overcome with memories of Rowan on the bathroom floor. He couldn't articulate the struggle inside himself, between his desire to flip over the card and just stare at the image, or hide it away in a deep draw, where he wouldn't be haunted by what might have been. If he had known about his pregnancy last time, he would have seen Rowan at the same stage; he would have connected with the little person right there and then – if that had happened, it would have been even worse when he died; it would make it even worse if… There were so many reasons, none of them made total sense, but the fact remained that Harry could not bring himself to look at the picture Mrs Weasley now held in her hand.

"Perfect," Mrs Weasley sighed. "Eat up, dear. You're far too skinny. I'll get some meat on your bones, just see if I don't," she chuckled, before turning her attention back to the image. She was holding it so lovingly, despite that fact that the baby wasn't even related to her.

Harry fished out a piece of fudge and nibbled at it, trying to ignore the emotions churning in his gut. The sweetness was heavenly, but cloying in his agitated state. He replaced the sweet and set the entire bag aside, not wanting to seem ungrateful, but he couldn't stomach it right now. Mrs Weasley was the best mother he knew – what would she think if he knew he couldn't even face a scan of his child? How was he supposed to be a good father when he couldn't even do that?

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Harry half wishing that Mrs Weasley had just left him alone and Mrs Weasley humming to the picture.

"You know," Mrs Weasley said out of nowhere. "I had a miscarriage."

Harry's head shot up. "What?"

Mrs Weasley nodded, her eyes sad and far, far away, but she sounded like she was just telling an anecdote, like it was something that had happened a long time ago on holiday.

"It was before the twins. I already had the three boys and was run off my feet, barely time to stop. You know, I had hardly even clocked that I was pregnant again. There was a flu going round you see and we had all been a bit under the weather, but eventually we figured it out."

She took a deep breath and smiled ruefully. Harry's eyes were wide as she told her story.

"I was only about thirteen weeks along. We hadn't even got round to telling anyone. I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl. It was all so… Well, Arthur was devastated as well, but it had all been so quick and there were the boys… we moved on. Well, he… I couldn't help but keep blaming myself; that maybe if I had done something differently, or… You know how it is…"

Harry looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. He knew. He had hidden it all in second year. Now, looking back, he had no idea how he had held all the pain in, but he had. He had known no one would understand, so he had just… ignored it. He couldn't imagine Mrs Weasley having to go through that, though – the Weasleys were so supportive of each other.

"The problem was when I got pregnant again I was so terrified, especially when I found out it was twins," Mrs Weasley sighed. "I didn't want to lose them again and I was so stressed constantly. Honestly, until Arthur sat me down and I finally admitted what was bothering me, I thought I was going to end up in the permanent ward at St Mungo's," she laughed.

Harry didn't realise he was crying again, until Mrs Weasley leant forward and wiped a tear from his cheek.

"Sorry," he sniffed, scrubbing at his face, no he was aware of the trails all over his cheeks. He shouldn't be crying. This was her pain.

"That's all right, dear," she said gently. "Can I?" she asked, standing up.

Harry didn't really know what she was asking, but didn't think it could be anything bad, so he quickly nodded.

Mrs Weasley walked round the bed and clambered up next to Harry. Harry sat up straight.

"Are you sure this is all right?" she asked again, looking slightly unsure.

Harry hesitated for a moment, but he knew Mrs Weasley didn't mean any harm and he actually felt nice having her so close.

Mrs Weasley smiled at him and very slowly, so Harry could see exactly what she was doing, drew him into a hug, until he was curled up into her side. He stayed perfectly still in her arms, hardly daring to breath. Sure, she had hugged him before, on the platform and when he had arrived at the Burrow, or he had first seen her in Diagon Alley, and he had spent an entire evening crying in her lap, but this was different. Peaceful. She was holding him. Cuddling him. It was so warm and calm. Even though he was surrounded by the dark, dank dungeon (it actually wasn't that bad, but that wasn't the point), he felt so perfectly safe.

Mrs Weasley whispered into his hair, "The twins were fine, Harry. I spent so much time worrying that I missed out on so much of what was actually going on around me at the time. I know it's hard – impossibly hard – but you can't let what happened rule your life forever."

"But what if it happens again?" Harry breathed.

Mrs Weasley kissed the top of his head softly, "Then I will be here for you. And so will everyone else. You're not alone this time."

Harry's breath caught and he once again found himself sobbing on top of Mrs Weasley.

"I'm sorry!" he cried.

"Whatever for, dear?" Mrs Weasley laughed.

"It's so pathetic," he whimpered.

"No it's not," she said. "It's natural. Believe me. And much better out than in."

Harry grimaced. She had said the exact same thing after he had made a mess of a sofa on Wednesday. Speaking of which, he needed to get himself under control, or they'd have a repeat of that. Taking deep breaths and gradually swallowing back the sobs into little hiccups, Harry eventually quieted.

"There. That's better," Mrs Weasley whispered.

Harry nodded. It was nice, in the crook of Mrs Weasley's arm.

Mrs Weasley sighed, "I do wish you would talk more. I wish I knew what was going on in your head."

"That's what Snape said, too," Harry admitted.

"Oh? He talked to you then?"

"Last night. He made me talk through the… abuse… and gave me a book to write in. I dunno. It feels weird."

"But very necessary," Mrs Weasley said. "I'm glad he's talking to you."

"I guess." Harry closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress. He was far too wired to fall asleep, but some of the stress was beginning to seep out of his bones. He hoped Mrs Weasley didn't have to go too soon.

"How was the check up with the Healer," Mrs Weasley asked conversationally.

Harry opened his eyes. He shrugged, for want of a better explanation. "It was fine," he said breezily, although even to him it sounded unconvincing. "They did the scan and said everything was fine. They lifted up my shirt, which was a bit… but they didn't mean anything by it."

"You should tell them that it bothered you," Mrs Weasley mused. "She probably just didn't think. It's not something she will have dealt with before."

Harry shrugged again. It was embarrassing to admit that such an everyday thing for the Healer freaked him out. He didn't want them to think that Uncle Vernon had messed him up or anything… it had, but they didn't need to know that.

"She needs to know these things, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "Otherwise she might end up hurting you by mistake. She needs to know that she needs to take these things into account."

Harry thought for a moment. "Could you come? To one of my check-ups, I mean? I don't know if I'll remember…" That way at least someone would see the baby and he could look at her face. Mrs Weasley wouldn't be able to hide if something was wrong.

Mrs Weasley beamed. "Of course, dear. I'll need to talk to Madam Pomfrey about it, but I'm sure that shouldn't be a problem. I'm always going to be here to help, I promise."

Harry blushed and snuggled in closer.

Mrs Weasley pulled him into a tight embrace and waited until he was relaxed again before she said, "Harry dear, what do you think of the photograph?"

Harry went completely still. He couldn't admit to it. She couldn't know that he couldn't even bring himself to look… what kind of parent does that?

"Harry dear," she said again, stroking his hair. "I've been through it too, remember."

He twisted closer into her arms. "I can't look at it. I tried, but I just can't."

"I understand," she said softly. "But I know you'll feel better once you've looked. It's obviously bothering you."

"But what if…" Harry choked. "What if it happens again? What if I lose them and-"

"Harry," Mrs Weasley cut him off, encasing his nervous hands in her calm ones. "If you lose the baby, even now, when you haven't seen the picture, do you think it would hurt any less?"

Harry thought about it. That had been his argument for days, but now he thought about it… he shook his head.

"I'm not going to force you to do anything. Whatever you think is best, I'll support you," she said, making Harry whimper in gratitude again. "It will get easier after you're past the point you lost Rowan, but I really think you should look now, Harry. They're in there and they're safe. It will be all right, Harry. Your baby is all right and right there."

Harry knew she was right. Whatever happened, if something went wrong it would hurt. He was kidding himself into thinking that he had any control over that at all. Before his rational mind could come to a decision, his hand started to inch its way over to the rectangle of card on his bedside table.

He curled onto his side, with Mrs Weasley's warm weight behind him, anchoring him, and watched his hand grab the card. He pulled it back to him. His breath caught.

"It will be fine," Mrs Weasley encouraged. "I'm right here."

His hand flipped the card over.

There was his baby.

The picture was quite clear although not clear enough that Harry could say for definite how much they looked like Rowan had. Trying to put aside comparisons, he stared at the image. They were kicking and rolling around in their limited space. He tried to picture all that going on inside him, but just couldn't. They were in there. They moved jerkily and he could see their nose poking out. And their arms were moving about. His hand reached down to caress his bump. They were there. They were safe. Maybe soon he would feel it.

He watched until the photograph's movements started their repeat. It wasn't live, he remembered. This was how they had been when the Healer had been and he had been too chicken to look. He was looking now.

A tear slipped down his nose. He couldn't look away from the picture. There was his baby. His baby was there. For now, at least, here in the dungeon, they were safe.

"It's going to be all right, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "I promise."

…

Sorry for the shorter chapter. The full chapter is the same as last time, in that it is a series of shorter one shots that build up into a whole. The problem is that between work continuing to be a bit bonkers and then the new Spider-Man trailer coming out, which distracted me far more than it should have (or the appropriate amount, if you're me), I haven't actually finished the full chapter, so instead I'm going to post a one shot every few days over the next week or so and then go back to regular programming.

I hope that's okay. It feels weird to be posting something so short.

Next chapter will be up by Wednesday at the absolute latest… more likely Monday.

Please review!