Fandom: Harry Potter
Character(s): Harry P. | Arthur W. | Molly W.
Pairing(s): Harry/Ginny, Molly/Arthur, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Fleur
Warning(s): un-Britpicked, mentions of abuse/neglect, mature themes, spoilers through HP&DH
Ginny and Hermione were thick as thieves and no mistake. Determined to outfit the nursery with everything (and more) that the unborn Potter could possibly need, the two ladies had taken off just after lunch for a day of shopping and girl talk.
Ron muttered to Harry that "the bloody nesting instinct must be bloody contagious", adding resentfully that Hermione had been debating curtain patterns all morning.
Harry just laughed and clapped Ron on the back, apologizing in a mocking manner - though there was a flicker of something deep within his green eyes that gave Arthur (watching the antics from his favorite armchair) pause for serious thought.
He knew that this baby had not been exactly 'planned'. (Even had Ginny not confessed as much to her mother in a hormone-induced crying-and-chocolate session, everyone in the Potter-Weasley clan knew that Harry and Ginny had intended to concentrate on their respective careers for a year or two, easing their way into married life and babysitting for Andromeda on the weekends.) But until now, Arthur had thought that the baby was a pleasant thought for the young couple; a happy little surprise the same way Ginny had been in her own time. He couldn't imagine it being otherwise. Harry had always wanted a family.
Yet now that Arthur had noticed one piece of evidence to the contrary, dozens more suddenly crowded themselves into his mind:
The fixed, Daily Prophet-ready smile Harry put on every time Molly congratulated them.
The barely-perceptible-but-seemingly-reflexive flinches at every joke, every jab, every jesting threat made by Ginny's brothers.
The pat answers and sterile responses to comments from friends.
The haunted, morose expressions when he thought no one was looking.
It all painted a very dark picture, and not one Arthur had ever expected to include one of his sons. Or his daughter.
Ginny was so happy all the time when she was talking about the baby. Even when complaining about morning sickness, she had been almost in awe of the whole process (and that now-shared experience had brought her and Molly closer than ever). But Harry...
Harry seemed to be pulling away. Brooding. Drowning. And hiding it all with a kind of desperation that Arthur hadn't seen since just before the Trio left on their now-famous horcrux hunt.
And wasn't that a terrifying comparison!
Arthur shifted in place, his favorite armchair suddenly that much the less comfortable. He and Molly had done their best to stay out of Harry and Ginny's way, knowing only too well that a lasting love has to be built by two people, not for them. So, however anxious Molly may become, however adviser-ly Arthur may feel, they hold their tongues unless either Harry or Ginny explicitly ask for advice. Which usually results in Ginny asking point-blank after a week or two of Harry trying to tease out the answer in that strange, roundabout way of his. Sometimes that boy could be downright oyster-like, Arthur thought with a sigh. Which meant that he, as the caring father-in-law, would have to start this discussion himself. Because something just wasn't right with Harry. And that something had everything to do with the baby coming in just two short months.
The baby that, for some unknown reason, seemed to bring its father anything but joy.
Arthur removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. "I'm getting too old for this", he thought to himself, wondering which god he had offended to somehow find himself playing counselor to his own daughter's husband (who also happened to be the Chosen One). But something had to be done. And clearly Arthur was the only one capable of doing it.
He'd pull Harry into his office after dinner and they could hash the whole thing out bluntly (Ginny-style). Because anything more subtle would likely put Harry on his guard, and an on-guard Harry was a tight-lipped and unhelpful Harry who - for a famous person - could be remarkably good at disappearing into the background of any scene. So it would have to be a frontal assault. But in private. And maybe with a locking spell placed on the door. And a couple of anti-apparation wards, just in case Harry took it into his head to bolt.
Which he might. The Boy-Who-Lived was terribly skittish about certain things; one-on-one conversations with adults being a big offender.
Arthur still remembered the first time he had ever had a serious talk with Harry (Third Year. He had been warning Harry about Sirius Black.) and the kid nearly jumped out of his skin when Arthur went to put a hand on his shoulder. It was very strange.
TBC...