Part Twelve: The Weasleys Three
"Well...she speaks just like a proper grown woman, doesn't she?" Mrs. Weasley's speech was nigh as watery as her eyes as she watched the fleeting figures of mother and daughter clamboring toward the spare bedroom they would share in the Burrow, Fred and Ginny sitting dutifully on either side of her.
"She ought to, between Hermione and that awful snob school she's been put in." Fred said, chuckling lightly. "Do you know what she told me about that place? She said that she had half a mind to tell the lot of them to 'munch her knickers' with their afternoon tea and be off!"
The table of Weasleys errupted in raucus laughter, each of their faces beaming with something quite akin to pride in the humble name and traits that they shared. "Well, maybe she's still a little girl after all. But she's definitely a Weasley." Mrs. Weasley said, her laughter finally dying out. "And she looks so much like...like her father. Ron's daughter..."
"Oh, mum..." Coming out of her trance, Ginny placed a consoling arm around her mother. "Don't start crying again. She's a lovely girl, and we should be happy that she's here to remind us of Ron...shouldn't we?"
"Of course. Of course, dear. It's just that I--well, I...we've lost so much already, and I don't think that I could stand to-- Er, Fred? Do you think that she'll stay? Hermione, I mean."
Stretching slowly over the back of his chair, Fred took a moment to think before replying, "I don't think she has a choice, mum. This is where she is supposed to be, and now that Lily knows...she knows it too, really. I saw her take out all her magic things last night when she thought I was asleep. Touching them like a china doll, she was. She can feel it. She's just scared, that's all."
"Scared of what?" asked Ginny, leaning over the table curiously.
"St. Mungos." The ever-present clatter of the Weasley household seemed almost to cease at the heaviness of the subject. All was quiet, until Mrs. Weasley chose to speak again.
"I know the boy, Fred." she squeaked, almost inaudibly, her head hung slightly. When the only reply was the astonishment on both her children's faces, she continued. "I didn't know he was Hermione's son, of course. I've had to tend to him quite a few times when I was assigned to his end of the hall. He's very quiet, very...I always thought there was someone he reminded me of but, I could never quite place it. I don't know why I didn't see it all the time, now that I think about it."
"Harry?" Ginny offered meekly.
"Naturally. I didn't want to bring it up at dinner; thought it would be a bit much. But...well, she's in for quite a shock, I'll daresay." Nervously, Mrs. Weasley continued, "You don't think she's thought of that, do you?" Then, dropping her voice to yet another deep level of quiet, she added, "You don't think she knows...about the prophecy?"
"Well...she speaks just like a proper grown woman, doesn't she?" Mrs. Weasley's speech was nigh as watery as her eyes as she watched the fleeting figures of mother and daughter clamboring toward the spare bedroom they would share in the Burrow, Fred and Ginny sitting dutifully on either side of her.
"She ought to, between Hermione and that awful snob school she's been put in." Fred said, chuckling lightly. "Do you know what she told me about that place? She said that she had half a mind to tell the lot of them to 'munch her knickers' with their afternoon tea and be off!"
The table of Weasleys errupted in raucus laughter, each of their faces beaming with something quite akin to pride in the humble name and traits that they shared. "Well, maybe she's still a little girl after all. But she's definitely a Weasley." Mrs. Weasley said, her laughter finally dying out. "And she looks so much like...like her father. Ron's daughter..."
"Oh, mum..." Coming out of her trance, Ginny placed a consoling arm around her mother. "Don't start crying again. She's a lovely girl, and we should be happy that she's here to remind us of Ron...shouldn't we?"
"Of course. Of course, dear. It's just that I--well, I...we've lost so much already, and I don't think that I could stand to-- Er, Fred? Do you think that she'll stay? Hermione, I mean."
Stretching slowly over the back of his chair, Fred took a moment to think before replying, "I don't think she has a choice, mum. This is where she is supposed to be, and now that Lily knows...she knows it too, really. I saw her take out all her magic things last night when she thought I was asleep. Touching them like a china doll, she was. She can feel it. She's just scared, that's all."
"Scared of what?" asked Ginny, leaning over the table curiously.
"St. Mungos." The ever-present clatter of the Weasley household seemed almost to cease at the heaviness of the subject. All was quiet, until Mrs. Weasley chose to speak again.
"I know the boy, Fred." she squeaked, almost inaudibly, her head hung slightly. When the only reply was the astonishment on both her children's faces, she continued. "I didn't know he was Hermione's son, of course. I've had to tend to him quite a few times when I was assigned to his end of the hall. He's very quiet, very...I always thought there was someone he reminded me of but, I could never quite place it. I don't know why I didn't see it all the time, now that I think about it."
"Harry?" Ginny offered meekly.
"Naturally. I didn't want to bring it up at dinner; thought it would be a bit much. But...well, she's in for quite a shock, I'll daresay." Nervously, Mrs. Weasley continued, "You don't think she's thought of that, do you?" Then, dropping her voice to yet another deep level of quiet, she added, "You don't think she knows...about the prophecy?"