Chapter Twelve: Back To the Burrow

Tap! Tap! Tap!

A dull sound invaded Harry's dreams. He rolled over, pulling the covers over his head and reaching over instinctively with one arm. It landed on an empty space in the bed beside him. This, combined with the tapping sound which was heard again, brought him out of blissful sleep and into consciousness. He sat up in bed, his brain registering that it was still rather early in the morning, that it was Saturday morning. What was Ginny doing up already? He heard the sound of water running in the bathroom and remembered that Ginny had to go to work today.

The tapping came again. Harry sighed, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and reached for his glasses. Grabbing a pair of plaid boxers that were hanging over the bedpost where they'd been hastily flung the night before, he put them on and went to see what the noise was. An owl which Harry did not recognise was tapping on the living room window, a letter tied around one of its legs. He let the owl in and untied the piece of parchment which was addressed to Ginny in a hand he thought looked familiar. The owl must have been instructed to wait for a reply, for it did not immediately fly off. He went to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Ginny," he called, "you've had an owl."

The sound of running water stopped, and in the next instant, Harry was greeted with the sight of a dripping Ginny wrapped in a towel. "Sorry, I didn't hear you…" Her voice trailed off as she smiled up at him. "Good morning," she said, reaching up to kiss him. "Are you coming to join me?"

Harry drank in her appearance before replying. "As tempting as that sounds, do you want to be late to work again?"

"No, I suppose not." She sounded disappointed. "I've been teased enough as it is for the three other times."

He stared a bit more and then cleared his throat. "Right. You've had an owl, and it's waiting around for an answer." He held out the parchment towards her.

As Ginny held out a hand to take the letter, Harry thought he saw a shadow pass across her features—the last two owls she's received had not been pleasant—but it was quickly gone. Looking at the writing on the envelope, Ginny remarked, "It's from my mum."

Now Harry knew why he hadn't recognised the owl. Errol had finally gone to his reward several years ago, and Ron had kept Pigwidgeon with him. The senior Weasleys had obviously acquired a new post owl.

Ginny broke open the seal on the letter. "I wonder why she's writing me, rather than either coming by or calling through the fire?"

Harry could think of a reason or two, but wasn't sure he ought to mention them. In any case, Ginny didn't seem to expect him to answer: she was reading.

"It's an invitation," she said once she'd finished reading. "She's invited us to Sunday supper." She handed the letter to Harry so that he could see for himself. Harry knew that Molly liked to have her children come to the Burrow for supper at least once a month. It had become a sort of family tradition. He suspected that Ginny begged off as often as she could, but he didn't see any way to avoid attending this gathering. Ron and Hermione were due to return from their honeymoon today. Harry was sure this was the reason why Ginny had been sent a written invitation and why the owl was waiting around for her reply.

He handed the letter back to Ginny, having glanced through it. It had been carefully worded to avoid mentioning him by name. "How are you going to answer that?"

"Well, we're going, aren't we?"

"It sounded as if your mum expects you there. She didn't mention me at all."

"I'm not going without you," Ginny answered firmly. "I'll tell her to expect both of us."

Harry wasn't sure how he should respond to this, so he said nothing as Ginny rummaged for a quill and proceeded to write her reply. On one hand, he would be glad to see his friends again. On the other, the strained relations between Ginny and Molly might make things uncomfortable at the very least. And then there was Molly's reaction to him. He wondered again what had happened to change her attitude towards him. He thought of asking Ginny if she knew anything about it, but he didn't want to be responsible for making her late to work again. He could ask her tonight.

After Ginny had left for the joke shop, Harry went back up to the Hogwarts library. He had spent the majority of the past few days there, researching ghosts in hopes of finding any bit of information that would help him locate Draco Malfoy. He'd had a look around the castle itself to begin with, but he couldn't find anyone else who had seen Draco's ghost. In desperation, he'd even hunted up Moaning Myrtle in her toilet (which was still permanently out of order) but to no avail. Myrtle had been pleased enough to see Harry and even more pleased to learn that a young male ghost had been hanging about the place. She would have been quite happy to share her toilet with Malfoy, on whom she'd spied more than once in the Prefect's bathroom (as she all too gleefully informed Harry). But she'd had no first-hand information for him, and neither had any of the other ghosts Harry had been able to locate.

And so Harry found himself back at the library, where he was able to page through books in peace, now that the end of term was in sight. Students were either all writing exams or kept so busy studying that his presence passed relatively unnoticed. But he was no closer to learning how to summon a ghost than he had been days ago. He closed the book he'd been reading, Famous Ghosts, Spectres and Phantoms, with an impatient sigh. The closest he'd come to finding anything useful was a paragraph or two on Muggle seances. He was not surprised to learn they were fraudulent, although he was glad enough about this fact. For a moment, he'd been afraid the next step would have been to pay Professor Trelawney a visit.

By now, Harry had looked through all the available books that looked as if they might contain something useful, but he hadn't tried the Restricted Section yet. He went to the back of the library, and almost laughed out loud when he found himself glancing around to see if Madam Pince was watching. The requirement for students to present a signed note from a professor was still solidly ingrained.

Stepping over the rope that cordoned off the Restricted Section, Harry perused the book titles. He found a few that looked promising, and took them from their shelf, noting with relief that the books did not begin screaming in blood-chilling voices. He was obviously not infringing on any rules.

Several hours later, he thought he'd found something at last in a tome entitled Fantastic Spells for Enchanting Phantoms. He could see why these spells were in the Restricted Section. Their use on ghosts was perfectly legal, but many of them could be used with equal effectiveness on people who were still alive, and, used in this manner, they constituted Dark Magic. Here among them was a simple enough incantation which would enable him to summon a ghost: hic spiritus. Harry grinned to himself as he read the page. It sounded more like the name of a wine merchant than anything else. There was also a spell or two mentioned that would come in handy if Draco should prove uncooperative. They would allow Harry to have a limited amount of control over him.

Looking at his watch, he saw it was almost time to head back to Hogsmeade. He'd promised Ginny he'd take care of supper, and besides, he was not ready to attempt locating Draco just yet. Ginny had received nothing in the way of a threat for over a week now. Although it seemed odd to Harry that they (whoever "they" were) should suddenly stop, he felt no sense of urgency about the situation. He also wanted to choose his location when he talked to Malfoy, and he felt Ginny's cottage would not be ideal.

He took out a roll of parchment and a quill. He ran the quill over the appropriate passages in Fantastic Spells for Enchanting Phantoms, and then tapped the quill with his wand as he muttered, "copia." Then he tapped the quill a second time as he held it over the parchment and muttered, "colla." The quill immediately began writing the passages verbatim. Hermione had discovered this highly useful spell during seventh year, and it had saved her, as well as Ron and Harry, from writer's cramp while doing research. Harry suspected that Hermione had made even better, if surreptitious, use of this spell during her years at Oxford.

Harry returned the books he'd been looking at to their shelf in the Restricted Section while the ink was drying on the parchment. Then he packed up his things and set out for home. He'd been thinking of Ginny's cottage more and more as his home than his own flat. Not that he'd ever spent much time there. It was just a place to sleep for the most part. But it was beginning to seem ridiculous to pay rent on that place when he was living at Ginny's. Once the danger had passed, he didn't think he'd be moving out now… At least, he hoped not.

This was another subject that he needed to discuss with her, but he was unsure how he should bring it up. He thought he understood now how much Ginny valued her independence, and he didn't want it to seem to her as if he was encroaching on that in any way. In any case, once the Quidditch season began again, he wouldn't be underfoot all the time. He thought with a jolt that training would begin at the beginning of August. If the mystery behind all the threats wasn't cleared up by then, he would find it difficult to leave. He would just have to hope they got to the bottom of this by then.

Harry was just putting the finishing touches on their supper, some take-away he'd got at The Three Broomsticks, when he heard Ginny come home. He poured two glasses of the wine he'd picked up to go with the meal, and went to greet her. She looked tired and harried; it must have been a long, hard day for her. She shot a grateful look at the glass of wine in Harry's hand and gave him a wan smile.

Harry set the glasses down so that he could greet Ginny properly. Pulling her into his arms, he said, "You look tired, love. Rough day?"

Ginny sank into his embrace, hugging him tightly. "It's like a mad-house in that place on Saturdays. I need to get off my feet, but first, let me change."

She went into the bedroom, returning five minutes later to settle beside Harry on the sofa. She took a few sips from her glass before telling Harry about her day. The worst customer had been the last, a woman with two young boys of around nine and ten. The woman had allowed them to run wild through the shop, pulling things down from the shelves and not putting them back. Both boys had thrown tantrums when told they could only have one joke item each, until their mother gave in and bought them what they wanted. Then they'd asked for Dungbombs. Ginny had had to explain that Dungbombs were not sold at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which had brought on more displays of temper from the boys. Ginny had done her best to placate them, and their mother, in the mean time, had given her several appraising looks. "I swear," Ginny said, "she must read Witch Weekly, the way she was looking at me. I'm glad most of our customers are men."

Harry wasn't so sure he agreed with that, as he remembered the customer that Ginny had wanted to avoid last Monday, but he knew better than to mention it. Instead he asked, "Ginny, what do you want to do?"

She turned to him with a puzzled look on her face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you aren't planning on making a career of selling practical jokes, are you?" Ginny smiled at this and shook her head. "And when your suspension at the Ministry is lifted?"

"You don't think I'd consider going back to that job, do you?"

"No. That's why I'm asking you. What do you want to do?"

Ginny settled back against him and sipped at her wine while she considered. "I don't really know, Harry. Any job I've had, I had to take out of necessity. I've never had to consider what I wanted before."

"Would you want to return to the Ministry, but in another capacity?"

"I don't know. That would seem the easiest choice with my family connections. I've just never really thought about it." She lapsed into silence for a while, and Harry was content to just sit with her and hold her. "You know," she began again, "there's something quite unfair about all this…"

Now it was Harry's turn to be puzzled. "About what?"

"About the whole Witch Weekly thing. They can make or break your reputation, and no one ever does anything about it. They're allowed far too much license. Why doesn't the Ministry do something about it?"

Harry was sceptical. "And just which department would that fall under?"

"I don't know… Magical Law Enforcement?"

"As far as I know, there are no laws in the wizarding world against that sort of thing. In the Muggle world there are laws against defamation of character and the like, but magazines like Witch Weekly still exist. There are sometimes lawsuits brought against them, but they're hard to prove one way or the other."

"Yes, but if the laws exist, it must help matters."

"I suppose so. I don't know."

"Well, I think something should be done about it. If I were to go back to the Ministry, I think it would be to try to change some of our laws. I'll have to ask Dad about that. What?" Ginny asked, in a somewhat injured tone, as Harry began laughing.

He tried unsuccessfully to hide his amusement. "Sorry, I'm not laughing at the idea. It's just that you suddenly reminded me of Hermione back in fourth year. Remember all the S.P.E.W. business?"

"Vaguely."

"Maybe you should ask her tomorrow about how to go about carrying on a crusade."

"Stop teasing me. I'm serious about this. Maybe Mum would have an easier time accepting our situation if it weren't for all those articles."

Harry thought he saw something flicker in the depths of her eyes as she said this, but he couldn't be sure. In any case, this was something he'd been wanting to ask Ginny about, but had been unsure how to bring the subject up.

"Gin, about your mum," he began.

"Yes?"

"Well, she's got a problem with me, obviously. Do you have any idea what it is? It's more than the articles, isn't it?"

Ginny paused to consider before replying. "I don't know, Harry. I'm sure the articles have something to do with it. You've seen for yourself that Mum and I don't get on together very well. I have to admit, I haven't been around her enough to know if there's more to it than that. It's possible she was just looking for another reason to criticise my life. But still…"

"No, there's something personal to it, I'm sure. She'd never before spoken to me the way she did last week. It was as if she were blaming me for the situation, not you. But I don't understand where it was all coming from."

"I could try asking Dad tomorrow if you like. I won't get anywhere with Mum, as you can well imagine."

This brought another uncomfortable thought to Harry's mind. "How are we going to avoid a scene tomorrow?"

"Oh, I doubt there will be an ugly scene. Mum will be on her best behaviour in front of the family. Don't worry about tomorrow. Can we eat now, please? I'm starved."

*

In spite of Ginny's apparent nonchalance about seeing her family, the following day, as they were ready to leave, Harry could detect a certain amount of nervousness radiating off her. When he took her hand as they went out to where they could Disapparate safely, he could feel the clamminess of her palm. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze just before they both disappeared, only to reappear seconds later in front of the Burrow. There was no one else in sight as they approached the house, which was as lopsided as ever. Before Ginny could open the front door, Harry reached for her, pulling her into an embrace. "It'll be all right," he said. Then he placed a hand under her chin and held her steady so he could kiss her.

The sound of someone clearing his throat caused Harry and Ginny to break apart. They both turned toward the sound to see Ron and Hermione standing in the yard. They had obviously just Apparated in themselves, and they were both looking at Harry and Ginny with avid curiosity.

Hermione looked tanned and happy. The honeymoon in Aruba had definitely agreed with her. Ron seemed to have more freckles than ever. His fair complexion would have necessitated the use of a good Sun Blocking Charm to prevent him from burning. His facial expression was now markedly different from Hermione's, however. The curiosity was giving way to a stony look that Harry couldn't quite understand.

Ginny went over to her brother and sister-in-law and hugged them both, welcoming them back. Then she pulled Hermione aside. She seemingly had something private to discuss with her.

Harry gave Hermione a quick nod and smile, as he approached Ron, holding out his hand, but Ron did not take it. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and said, "What's going on between you and my sister?" in a less than pleased tone.

Harry paused. He couldn't understand his friend's reaction. There was something funny going on here. "We've, well, got together since your wedding. Do you have a problem with that?"

"You might say that," Ron replied. His expression was still set, but he couldn't suppress the gleam in his eyes. Harry now had a good idea what was going on.

"What are you planning on doing about it?" Harry asked, drawing his wand.

Ron pulled out his own wand, and answered, "I'd be careful, if I were you. I've learned a trick or two…"

"Go ahead. Make my day," said Harry, attempting to imitate an American accent in a gravely voice.

Ron was unable to keep up the act. He burst out laughing. "Are you ever going to give up on those old Muggle movies?" he asked, as he finally shook Harry's hand and clapped him on the back. On numerous occasions, Ron had been subjected to Harry's video collection when he'd visited Harry's London flat.

Harry grinned. "No. I quite like them. I take it you've been to see the twins?"

"Yeah, got an owl from them last night. Didn't appreciate having to go over there, since we'd just returned home, but they've filled me in."

"Anything new you can tell me?"

"No, nothing."

At that moment, the front door opened and Molly Weasley came out. "Ron!" she cried. "What are you doing standing outside? Come into the house…" She walked up to her son and embraced him. Then she turned to Harry, and said, "Hello, Harry, dear." Her tone of voice was warm—it was the one he remembered from his years at Hogwarts--but there was something forced about her smile. Harry could see that Ginny had been right about one thing. Molly was going to be on her best behaviour… even if it killed her. She looked about her. "There you are, Hermione, dear," she continued, "and Ginny. Come into the house, all of you."

Hermione and Ginny had been talking together some distance away. Hermione came over to greet her mother-in-law, and they headed into the house, followed by Ron. Harry hung back, waiting for Ginny, who was walking towards him more slowly. When she'd reached him, he took her hand and squeezed it. "What was that all about?" he asked, as they, too, went into the Burrow.

"Girl talk," Ginny answered enigmatically. "I'll tell you later."

The went into the house, where almost the entire Weasley family had gathered. The only missing member was Bill, who was back in Egypt, and couldn't be counted on to make the long trip back to England very often. Looking around, Harry noted he was the only person there who was not technically a family member. Hermione was now a Weasley by marriage, and Ron's older brothers were all still single. Even Charlie, who, Harry thought, had been dating a Hogwarts professor for the past several years, had come alone. Harry had to wonder why Ginny insisted he come along. Was she trying to make some sort of statement by bringing him? The idea suddenly made him a bit uncomfortable.

Everyone took seats in the living room and made conversation. Ron and Hermione told what they could of their honeymoon (which made for a short story indeed). At least, the twins had a new target for their suggestive comments, Harry thought with relief. He'd been worried they'd subject him and Ginny to that sort of thing, but, for once, they were being discreet. Molly was being painfully polite to him, almost as if he were a stranger. Harry found himself becoming impatient with her attitude. He was determined to have a private talk with her, if he could manage it.

But finding an opportunity to talk to Molly privately was not an easy thing in such a large family. When she went to the kitchen to see to the last minute meal preparations, both Ginny and Hermione volunteered to help her get supper on the table. After supper there was the washing up, but, to everyone's general surprise, the twins offered to do that duty. Harry was stuck in a conversation with Percy on the latest developments in international broom standards, and had no chance to catch Molly's eye.

At last, the family went outside to enjoy a fireworks display put on by the twins. Harry noticed Mrs. Weasley head back into the house after a few minutes and decided to follow her. He found her in the kitchen, her back turned towards him, making a large pot of hot chocolate.

He cleared his throat, causing her to jump. Turning around, she said, "Oh, Harry, I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sorry to startle you, Mrs. Weasley. I think we need to have a talk, you and I."

Mrs. Weasley looked suddenly uncomfortable. "What about?"

Harry felt just as uncomfortable as Mrs. Weasley looked, but he felt this needed to be done, so he forged ahead. "You've made no secret of the fact you've got a problem with me, but I'd like to hear just what that problem is. As far as I know, I've never done any sort of harm to you or your family, and I find myself at a loss to explain it."

Whatever Molly had been expecting Harry to say to her, this obviously wasn't it. She went over to the table and sat down. Harry took a seat, as well. She took a breath and began, "You can hardly expect me to approve your living arrangements at the moment…"

Harry interrupted her. "Hasn't Mr. Weasley explained the reasons behind that by now?"

"Well, yes, but…" Harry could see her twisting her hands in her apron.

"Then you understand that I'm staying at Ginny's for safety reasons above anything else."

"Are you saying that that's the only reason you're there?"

Harry felt his face grow hot. There was no point in lying to her though. "No," he said quietly, "not any more. The truth of the matter is, things began that way, but they've progressed beyond that…"

"You seduced her, then." It was an accusation. Mrs. Weasley was looking at him directly now, her eyes glittering dangerously. This was not getting any easier.

"It's not like that. I love Ginny. I have for a long time."

Molly gasped. "And you expect me to believe that, after everything I've read about you?" She sounded deeply offended. "Nothing I've heard about you tells me you're out for anything more than a fling."

Harry sighed, but he was determined to hold onto his temper, no matter what Molly said. An argument now would accomplish nothing. "Mrs. Weasley, I'll be as forthright as I can. Not everything they print in Witch Weekly is true. I don't know what I can say to make you believe that, but what I'm telling you now is the truth. You've known me now for over ten years. I thought you knew me better than to believe those stories. You're an individual. You can work out for yourself what the truth is."

"I'm an individual," Molly repeated absently. Then she seemed to come out of a reverie. "I used to know you, Harry. You were like a member of the family. But then you went away, and when you came back, you'd changed…"

"How had I changed?"

"You were famous…"

"I was famous before," he replied as evenly as he could. This was frustrating. Harry could easily understand why Ginny got into so many rows with this woman.

"And then you made yourself even more famous by playing Quidditch."

"I took the job playing Quidditch, because it was something I was good at. And something I enjoyed. I thought I deserved to at least do something I enjoyed, rather than something I had to do out of duty for once. I never asked for fame once in my life. I've always had it thrust upon me. Believe me, if I could live anonymously, I'd do it gladly. You should know me better than that." They were getting nowhere. They were just arguing in circles.

"Maybe if you hadn't distanced yourself from us, I would know you better." More than anything, her tone was hurt now. "If you hadn't gone away…" She put her hands over her mouth, as if she were about to blurt out a long-held secret.

"If I hadn't gone away?" he prompted. Perhaps he'd get some answers, after all. Harry watched as conflicting emotions played over Molly's features. It looked to him as if she were struggling with something she'd kept pent-up for a long time.

"Why, Harry?" she asked shakily. "Why did you go away? You were practically a member of the family. We would have helped you. But for two years we didn't know whether you were dead or alive. You never sent any word. You could have at least let us know you were all right." She stopped and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief from her apron pocket.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "There's not much I can say to excuse myself for that, and I won't even try. But I'll at least try to explain." He paused here, and ran a hand through his hair, as he chose his words. "It seemed the best thing to do at the time," he began. "Everyone was happy. Everyone was celebrating, but I felt I couldn't join it. I felt separate from it all. I'd lost my godfather, Dumbledore, Hagrid, so many others who had been like family to me… People who had introduced me to the wizarding world. I thought it would be best if I withdrew from it. I went to live as a Muggle for those two years…" Molly was listening to him with rapt attention. No one beyond Ron and Hermione had ever heard about where he'd gone, and he'd only told them at their insistence on his return. "Even now, I have a flat in Muggle London. It's a good place to escape. No one knows who I am in the Muggle world."

Molly was dabbing at her eyes again. "What made you decide to come back?" she asked at last.

"I don't honestly know. I just felt it was time. I thought I was healed by then, but I wasn't, really. I won't deny I made mistakes. Witch Weekly did get some of it right in the beginning," he added bitterly. "But once I realised that what I was doing was essentially empty, I stopped. But by then I had a reputation that was difficult to shake off…"

Molly opened her mouth to reply, but before she could get anything out, the kitchen door opened and Arthur walked in. He looked from his wife to Harry questioningly, but there was no time for further explanation. The rest of the family came in behind him. The fireworks were over, and it was time to go home.

Before they left, however, Ron took Harry aside. "We haven't had much chance to talk about what's been happening. Come into the joke shop with Ginny tomorrow. We can talk then." Harry agreed to this, and Ron added with a suppressed grin, "Try not to be late for once, all right?"

As Harry and Ginny said their good nights, Harry's eyes met Molly's, and he thought he saw a beginning of understanding there. His heart felt much lighter, now.