My back is aching. My feet are swollen. I can feel the throbbing of my heart in my head, and pain like white light behind my eyes. Again I have been beset with disturbingly painful twists in my stomach.
I cannot explain how I would've ever come up with this being my Utopia.
Look at them. My babies. My children.
No, no, I chide myself, They are adults now. But in my heart, I know they are my babies and will always be such.
No matter how much Bill starts to look like his father, or how many dragons Charlie wrangles, no matter how Percy scorns us, or how many tricks the twins will play on us, no matter how tall Ron grows or how much Ginny reminds me of younger days. They are adults. I must remind myself of this constantly, even though I cling to Ginny and Ron as if they were the tiniest bits that personify childhood.
But even if those two aren't legal adults, they are growing and certainly are not children.
I hate it and I love it all in the same breath. This is my life. This is my family.
If you think I don't realize that sometimes they find it easy to poke fun at my maternal instincts, you've got another thing coming. I did raise six children; I tend to pick up on the silly things like that. They won't tease me directly, thinking it will anger me, when truly it only amuses me.
They laugh about Harry Potter Weasley, and just recently Remus Lupin Weasley. I'm quite positive I heard Fred or George giggle about Albus Dumbledore Weasley, too.
And now? Now we sit ourselves down to eat. For the first time all year, we sit down like a proper family should. Arthur sits at one end, and I at his right. There is an empty chair to his left. Nobody touches that seat. At times, I am thankful, others I am not.
Percy, my baby, why do you hurt us like this? There is a place for you. There always will be.
But he doesn't deserve it. The way he's treated us. Especially Harry.
Bill is beside me, occasionally turning to the lovely Fleur to his right. Across from them, Fred and George huddle over their mashed potatoes, probably another absurd new product to put in their shop. Beside them Charlie glances between their conversation and the one spirited between Ron and Harry. Ginny sits between Fleur and Harry, catching tips on fashion from Fleur and the latest news of the Dursleys from Harry.
And there. At the very end, with an amused smile flitting over his weary lips, Remus pushes his peas back and forth over the plate. He listens to it all. Tonight is unusual, though. He's not said a word all night. Usually, he contributes something.
Arthur, too, seems rather tense, jumping when I spoon more carrots onto his plate, and even letting out a strangle cry when I touch his hand. Something has passed between them. Something that gnaws at my insides like a starving dog with a bone.
Remus is resigned. But when isn't he?
A flicker of emerald. Harry's noticed too. He's trying to get my attention. He holds up the empty dish of potatoes and I nod. That's a good excuse.
Both of us slide our chairs away simultaneously from the table, a few fake words of "Oh, Harry, don't worry about it..." "Please, let me, Mrs. Weasley." "Sit down, sit down!" "It would make me feel better if I did help..." "Oh all right..."
Fred narrows his eyes. George blinks.
I never give in that easily. But thankfully they are the only ones to realize what has passed between us. They have their own secrets. They always have and probably always will. Twins are like that. They are a secret to the world, which is why the world loves them so.
"What's wrong with Professor Lupin and Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asks in a hurried whisper, just barely distinguishable above the clatter he makes with spoon in the pan, scraping up the last bits of potato.
I shake my head warily, casting a glance over my shoulder. "Something terrible has passed between them."
Harry turned his gaze, which is a beautifully naïve and wondering look he's managed to retain through the years through the Dursleys, to the two men seated opposite of one another. He nodded absently, then turned back to meet my eyes.
"They will tell us, Harry, when they are ready..." I smile softly, and I see a glint in Harry's eyes. "But we may be able to pick up certain things. Now, Harry, I know Remus stays up late, and that he'll be staying here tonight. I also know the twins are quite good at 'Wake-me-up' Charms."
We share a secret look before we return to our seats, Harry dutifully slopping more potatoes onto his plate.