AN: IMPORTANT CHAPTER. The order of POV goes as follows…
Ginny
Draco
Ginny
Harry
Marcy
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Ginny Weasley stood at the base of the stairs, watching her daughter saunter down quietly, her hands placed behind her back. She looked lovely in Ginny's eyes, her hair curled just a bit and tied back in a large serpentine bow that matched her newest sundress. Her cobalt blue eyes were vibrant in the morning sun as they lingered on Ginny's face, coming to halt just beneath her sternum as the little girl reached her side. The two stared at each other for a few minutes, neither moving, neither speaking. Coffee was locked on cobalt in a staring contest of will power as mother and daughter attempted to stifle the feelings of loneliness. It was Ginny who moved first, extending a single hand to her daughter, who took it gallantly and pulled Ginny into a bear hug. The little girl was crying softly into Ginny's jumper, whispering something about never going away again.
"Shush dear don't cry." Ginny coaxed, running her fingers through Marcy's strawberry blonde hair, "Everything will be fine. Come now, lets move into the kitchen."
"But mum…." She sniffled, her nose a brilliant red color, "W-Where's Julian?"
"I would guess upstairs, getting some sleep. It was an awfully long drive from Manchester." She smiled a bit, pulling her daughter along, "Besides, Julian and I can talk later…right now there are some things I need to discuss with you."
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Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen the Burrow in over 9 years. Maybe it was the fact that his whole life had felt lost before he had stumbled over the Bullstrode's doorstep, knocking into a very annoyed muggle boy who apparently was Millicent's son. Or maybe it was the fact that he had just seen Ginny trotting up the cobblestone walk with a boy that couldn't be older than nine.
She was more beautiful than he had remembered. As she had stepped from what appeared to be a taxi he had gotten a glimpse at her face, at the smattering of freckles that contrasted brilliantly against her snow white skin. Her copper hair was swaying just slightly in the wind as she stepped out and pulled her jumper tight about her body, which was still extremely curvy and perfectly the right size. But it was the tiny boy attached to her hand that had caught his attention the most.
His hair was curly and puffy about his head, a color that resembled his mothers as he trembled at her side. Draco could barely see the boy's eyes, but even from his hiding place behind a large stone wall he could see the darkness that they held. It was his son…his boy…
Maybe that was what was holding him here. Ginny and the boy had disappeared into the Burrow hours ago, leaving Draco with his thoughts behind the stone wall. He wanted to go inside. He hadn't traveled halfway across Russia and then across most of Europe to sit on the ground and await Ginny to realize he was there. She never would anyway. But something was holding him back. For a minute he had thought that he might have stopped loving her, but another look in the direction of the Burrow had confirmed with a pang that indeed…he still loved her. Loved her painfully so. So much that it had finally hit him why he couldn't stand to see his son.
As far as he could see from behind the scraps of stone, the boy had seemed content. So had Ginny for that matter, walking briskly up the cobblestones as if nothing were different. Had she forgotten about him? Were their lives better off without him?
"Draco?" A voice mumbled from beside him, drawing his attention from the door. Harry had grown profusely when the Bullstrode's had helped to heal him, putting on much needed weight and gaining back the power that had once rested behind his emerald eyes. He was smiling just a bit, staring off at the garden in the back, his ebony hair blowing in the wind, "What's wrong?" He asked distantly.
"Is anything right?" Draco asked forlornly, his eyes dwelling on his trainers, "You saw Ginny…she didn't even…"
"Notice you were there? Draco don't become soft on me, she wouldn't have known you were there in a million years and you know it." Harry sighed, pointing off into the distance, "This is your home. This is her home. She's here…your family's here, everything's here. You might be right in thinking she forgot you. But it wasn't too many days ago that you taught me that you can't just assume things." Harry pulled him to his feet before moving from behind the stone, "You need to make sure."
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"Marcy…"
"Mum don't try to play this off as anything less than the truth." Marcy butted in, slamming her glass of lemonade down on the table. She had been sitting with her mother for at least an hour at the table, talking over lemonade and pumpkin juice of Marcy's last week and life at the Highland developing community. Julian had spent most of his time with his friends and bickering over Marcy's return while her mother had spent most of hers at the hospital. Her mother had been delighted to hear that she was learning to play chess and had also grown to like Andrew and Michael. More than delighted, she thought for a brief moment, by the few seconds of twinkle in her mother's eyes. But when she had attempted to change the subject and Marcy had stopped her, the twinkle was replaced by a look of extreme stress.
"Marcy…you must understand why I hesitate to change things. I hesitate about flipping your world upside down. On introducing you to…everything that you don't know."
"Please!" She yelled a bit too loudly, shaking the table. Her mother sighed a bit before nodding her head.
"Your
different my dear." She started, folding her hands together, "I must ask you
not to interrupt me for this might be a bit hard to understand. You see Hermione, Ron, I…we're all different. There is a gene that runs in the blood of a
select group of people. It started years
ago in the Middle Ages and has become an amazing establishment today. It's hidden to the naked eye, you see…but it
really is amazing. You see Marcy…I'm a
witch." Marcy sucked in a deep gulp of
breath as her eyes became wide, "I went to a school, an amazing school…called
Hogwarts. I learned everything to do
with magic. I met your father at school
and we fell in love and had you. You see
Marcy…because he is a wizard and I'm a witch…you're a witch as well. That's why you could make that letter burst
into flame. That's why you disappeared
from the house and ended up here. This
was my house when I was younger, probably the only place that you could find
the answers you were looking for."
"But why….why didn't you tell
me?"
"Just because one is a wizard, my love, doesn't mean that our race is invulnerable to danger. You see before you were born, before I was even born, a horrible despicable man named Tom Riddle who killed innocent people for no reason roamed the lands. He would be brought to justice when I was around 18, but his followers would never disappear. They had their own plans for the future, as he liked to put it sometimes. One of these men was your father's father. He was evil and despicable as well and traveled to Romania to cause destruction in the Romanian Ministry. Your father went off to war when you were two in order to bring his father down, and yet he disappeared." A small tear rolled down her skin, falling with a soft plop in her pumpkin juice, "I ran from the wizarding world Marcy. I know, it wasn't fair to you or your brother. You both deserved a chance to get to know about your culture and who you are. But I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle knowing that this place was filled with that amount of evil. I just…couldn't. I hope you understand that."
It took a few moments, as Marcy stared down into her lemonade her cobalt eyes wide with wonder, for her to respond. She looked up at her mother, at the woman who had raised her for the past 11 years. She had been taught that she was different, that she was a "freak" who enjoyed books too much and found Ancient Egypt far too interesting. She had been ridiculed and told to "deal with it" because of her offsetting hair and eyes. And yet, even after all of that, Marcy couldn't turn her mother away. She nodded as she curled herself up around her legs, resting her chin in the crevice of her knees.
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Harry Potter had moved from behind the stone wall in the front to the courtyard behind some of the larger shrubbery in the backyard. Draco had remained, not even noticing Harry's departure from his perch. He had seemed awfully content just staring at the Burrow's front door and contemplating between entering and staying in the shadows. Harry had ventured into the backyard to see what had changed over the years and was surprised to see the normal row of tiny plants gone. Instead the land had been leveled and large poles with hoops stood on each end of the yard. In the air, he could just make out the pattern of 6 people buzzing about on broomsticks. One on each end he realized were the Keepers while the other four were playing the position of Chaser. His heart thumped in his chest as he realized just how much he had missed Quidditch, the universal sport of the Wizarding World. He hadn't caught a Snitch since he had played for Puddlemere almost 9 years ago, and here he was watching a game from the shrubbery of a courtyard.
One of the teams must have called a break because three much winded players landed with a thump in the middle of the field, laughing gallantly with each other. Harry recognized two of them immediately, the bushy hair of one and the red locks of the other giving them away instantaneously. He wasn't sure when Hermione had learned to fly, but based on her bright crimson cheeks and flyaway hair she had become quite good at it. Ron looked the same as he always had, his lanky build making him stand out absurdly against the greenery of his surroundings. Ron smiled at Hermione and pulled her into a hug, putting his free arm around the boy he had landed with. The boy had hair the color of mud that hung about his head and skin that looked sun kissed. Harry could barely tell his pupils from the rest of his eyes as the three people moved past his shrub and over to a girl who was seated on a swing, smiling sheepishly.
The girl made Harry's eyes well with tears and his heart jump into his throat. She had hair…hair the same color as his…and emerald eyes that were shaped like almonds. She was tiny, barely bigger than the swing itself, and her face was caught in a pucker as she chewed on her thumb. In her lap was the Quidditch ball case the Weasley's must have owned for it seemed ancient and it almost towered above her. Hermione, Ron, and the unknown boy were moving towards her as she snapped the lid open and grabbed at the Snitch. Harry could hear Ron groan loudly as she giggled and opened her hand, allowing the Golden Snitch to fly into the sky in a whirlwind of sunlight. Harry, however, could see it perfectly and before he could change his mind he was running across the lawn towards Ron's discarded broom. He heard Hermione gasp from behind him and someone call his name but he jumped on the broom regardless and took to the sky in search of the Snitch.
He could see it, dead in front of him, and he picked up speed as best he could. Ron's Cleensweep was rather old and stalled in the air a bit, making Harry have to lean forward immensely to get the force he wanted. The Snitch was only a few inches from him as he extended a lone hand towards it, his fingers reaching to curl around the ball's tiny wings. Suddenly a large gust of wind came from his right as a boy on a broom went flying past him, grabbing the Snitch in the process and stopping promptly on his left flank.
"That's how you catch a Snitch." The boy laughed, tossing it in his right hand. Harry gulped as he slowed himself down and took a good look at the boy, whose puffy light brown hair was blowing in the breeze. Behind him a woman with light skin and a gorgeous smile was guarding one of the hoops, staring oddly back at Harry. The boy's eyes locked on Harry's and his jaw went slack as he dropped the Golden Snitch, allowing it to fly through the air once again.
"D-Dad?" He stuttered.
"Hello Andrew." Harry replied shakily, looking over the boys shoulder and shouting, "Hello to you too Melinda," before his entire world went black.
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Marcy was surprised that a real conversation, not one swarming with lies and melodrama, was actually occurring between her mother and herself. After the initial awkwardness of the situation had expired, her mother had gone on to tell Marcy about all of her pastimes at Hogwarts. She learned of her troublesome temper and how she had spent a good deal of her time in detention for meddling with boys. She learned of her father, who had been quite a trouble maker himself years ago. She also learned of this Tom Riddle character and of the peril that he had set upon her mother and family when they were young. The more she got to learn of the Wizarding World the more she liked it. Her anger that had first erupted when she had learned of her mother's secrecy had slowly ebbed away over their conversation.
At the moment, as Marcy stared off into space, her mother was showing her a rather large portfolio of cards. It was Ron's supposedly and contained all 101 Famous Wizard trading cards. Each card had a different wizard on it, inscribed with information about their accomplishments as well as the things they enjoyed to do. Some of the pictures were missing, something Marcy had learned that day to be "common" in her mother's world, for no one could "expect a person to sit around in a picture all day". The table itself, other than holding this portfolio of cards, was covered in various sweets that her mother had shown her. There were Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and Chocolate Frogs that really bounced about the table. She had grabbed one and bitten off its head, sucking on the delicious gooey globs in her mouth, as her mother extracted a very long piece of wood that resembled a wand and (with a swish) made it all disappear.
"Mum I wasn't done…" She grumbled through a mouthful.
"Marcy dear, there is something we haven't discussed yet." Her mother replied, almost in a scorning tone, "Have you forgotten what I've told you about Hogwarts?"
"No Mum, I was paying attention. You said that it was your school…the school that Ron, Hermione, Harry, you, and dad attended."
"I meant the fact that it is a school my dear." Her mother started again, her face growing very serious, "It starts accepting witches and wizards when they turn 11 years old." Marcy grew quiet for a minute; the only noise reverberating from the kitchen was the ticking of the clock behind her mother's head. She stuck out her tongue for a second to lick her lips before nodding for her mother to continue, "As you know, you just recently turned 11 and you are allowed to go to school. It's where Andrew and Michael go."
"Oh Mum are you telling the truth? I can go to school with Andrew and Michael? Are you being real? This is so…"
"Marcy wait. Dear, you must understand something. I…I don't wish to involve myself in the Wizarding World just yet dear. It…it would be far too difficult. You must understand that as I tell you this. Either you attend school and live here…in the Burrow…or you come home to Manchester with Julian and me." Marcy grew quiet again as the joy that had taken over her quickly disappeared. Her mother was making her chose between her family and the school that was beckoning her. She wanted both but she couldn't have both because her mother wouldn't make the sacrifice of change. Marcy knew that Hogwarts would be a wonderful place to receive an education, but deep in her heart she knew her own limitations and that, as a young girl, she needed her mother. A small tear trickled down her face as the reality of a dream taken away washed over her and she stood up angrily, tossing the last bit of the chocolate frog onto the table.
Marcy made a race for the front door without turning back. The door, however, opened in front of her and a large man sent her toppling to the ground in a thump of pain. He seemed taken aback as well, for she could feel him staring at her. When Marcy finally could feel her elbow (which had taken the brunt of the fall) and was able to open her eyes again, she was surprised to see the man standing over her was crying. He had beautiful eyes for a man, she realized, which were the most intriguing combination of metallic gray and silver. His hair was hanging down, almost as long as Ron's, and was the color of snow as it shined in the slight sunlight. It was his smile that caught her eye though, for it wasn't the unusually bright smile of most folks in England. It was slightly forlorn and was almost crumbling apart but was still stern and…and something she had seen before. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she looked behind her at her mother, who was standing stiffly where she had once been seated, her chair knocked on the floor.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the man's eyes lit up and he bent down to pick Marcy up off the floor. She looked at him for a moment, at the way his awkwardly large hand fit across hers and the way his lips seemed to curl upwards as he studied her face.
"Dad?" She choked as he pulled her into a hug, and even the pitter patter of her mother's feet as she ran up the stairs couldn't stop the smile that embraced Marcy's face as she sobbed tears of joy into her long lost father's shoulder.
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AN2: This chapter covers a lot. I think it shows the most of Marcy's character by her ability to accept things…between her exposure to the Wizarding World and her father's reappearance. I wonder what handsome young 13 year old taught her that? Yes…there is something happening between her and Andrew…that is my major scheme…even though it will only really show up in an epilogue chapter.
This story won't be much longer…it is simply going to express the following…
1) How Harry settles things with his family
2) How Draco settles things with his family
3) What Marcy does in regards to Hogwarts
4) An Epilogue