No Wind, No Rain
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is NOT MINE…
It was the first Saturday morning of September, the month when the seasons turned from hot summer to cool, leafy autumn. Harry had just finished a round of quidditch with Greg and they were slowly making their way back to the house for dinner.
Ginny had taken Leo to St. Mungo's as he had come down with a slight fever. Warren and Raphael were over at a birthday party of a friend from Grade School. Greg had not been included in the guest list and he had been noticeably sullen about it all week, insisting otherwise when Raphael offered to decline the invitation since it was an obviously mean gesture on the birthday boy's part to exclude Greg.
Ginny had raised her concerns regarding this issue to Harry privately and he had promised her that he would speak to Greg.
"That was a good move, the whole diving in midair." Harry told Greg who nodded, grinning. He was the happiest when he played quidditch. Harry could relate to that. That was a time in his life when that was the only thing that gave him happiness. Now he had so much more.
Harry decided to get straight to the point. These moments after their informal quidditch practices were the only times he and Greg had alone together, when they confided in each other.
"You really don't like school, do you?" He asked.
Greg made a face, "No. I hate it."
"Why?"
"It doesn't suit me. I'm not a school sort of person. I'm the wrong personality type."
His grandfather had told him about personality types a while ago, just after his father had passed away. They were both introverts, he said, which made a lot of things – making new friends, starting at school and places of work – more difficult for them. He had said it to make Greg feel better about not being as talkative or friendly as his brothers.
"Do the other kids give you a hard time?"
Greg looked at Harry. How did he know that? Things must be worse than he thought if people knew even before he had said anything. "Not really. Just a couple of kids."
"What do they give you a hard time about?"
"Nothing really. Just, you know, my glasses-"
Harry stopped short, staring down at him, "You wear glasses?"
"Only for reading." Greg told him. Harry nodded, motioning for him to go on.
"They make fun of me because I read a lot at school, and I don't talk much to anyone else. I just sit by myself."
"Why don't you talk to the other children? Don't you have friends?"
"I used to but I stopped sitting with them or talking to them."
Harry sensed that this had begun ever since Terry's demise, "Why?" he asked.
Greg shrugged, "I just don't think there's any point. I'd rather be by myself. What's the point of having friends, talking to other children. It's not like they understand anyway."
"Understand what?" Harry probed.
"How it feels when someone dies…y'know like how Dad died."
Harry nodded in understanding.
"They just either feel sorry or avoid you. I don't like any of them." Greg muttered, darkly.
"Why don't you give them a chance?" Harry suggested.
"It's too late. They already think I'm weird."
"I'm sure we can think of something." Harry said, vowing to find a way for Greg to fit in at school.
Greg shrugged. "Can I ask you something, Uncle Harry?" He asked as they neared the house.
"Yeah, sure."
"Why did Daddy have to die?" He asked it so simply and so sincerely that Harry wanted to pull him into his arms and weep for this boy whom at the age of eight knew what it meant to lose someone you loved.
Harry thought about it for a moment, "Someone has to die in order for the rest of us to appreciate and value life."
"So Dad would want me to love my life?" Greg asked.
"Yes, he would, very much. He would want you to enjoy it, live it to the fullest."
"How would I do that?" He asked, seriously.
"Do what makes you happy, Greg. Play quidditch, talk to your friends, and play with them. That's what your father would want-"
Greg cut him off here and said something that bowled Harry over completely, "What about you? What would you want me to do?" He looked up at Harry eagerly, almost adoringly.
Harry stared down at him, askance. Molly Weasley was right. Forget about his own heart, these boys' hearts were in his hands; they had given it to him on a silver platter – their trust, their confidence, their love and care.
"I want you to be yourself - eight year old Gregory Ban Boot, that's who you are. You don't have to be older, you don't have to funnier, you don't have to be smarter, and you don't have to be more mature. Just be yourself and everyone will love you for it."
Then Greg did something he had never done before. He stepped towards Harry and in one swift movement threw his arms around him, his head coming up to Harry's midriff. Harry was taken aback for a moment, before wrapping one arm around Greg's shoulders, his other hand clutching his Firebolt.
They stood there for a while in each other's embrace. Harry felt as if he was hearing a phoenix sing – there was a warm syrupy feeling in the pit of his gut.
As they broke apart, Greg's hazel eyes were filled with unshed tears. As the tears welled up in his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks, Harry knelt down on the grass, without saying a word, pulled Greg towards him, allowing him to rest his head on his shoulder and cry softly, slowly, and without a care in the world.
"I won't! I won't! I won't go to bed!" Leo cried as Ginny forcibly carried him to the boys' room.
"You should have been in bed half an hour ago." She told him, as she placed him on his bed.
Raphael was attempting to tug his shirt from the one of the drawers that had sprouted teeth thanks to Warren and his meddling with their mother's wand. Warren was jumping up and down on his bed, throwing pillows at Greg who was jumping up and down on his bed as well, ducking the pillows with his well-developed quidditch reflexes.
Harry watched all this, extremely amused, standing in the doorway.
"Last one in bed is a hairy toad!" Ginny called out, picking up the pillows from the floor and placing it on the beds.
She came to stand with Harry in the doorway, "I'm afraid I've been rather lax with my discipline." She sighed, watching all four boys jump up and down on their beds, laughing, loudly, throwing pillows at one another.
"Nonsense," he told her, knowing fully well that it was one of her major insecurities as a mother. "They love you and that's more than can be said for other children with even stricter parents."
"I hope you're right." She murmured before walking back into the bedroom, clapping her hands loudly to get their attention. "Come on, boys, get to bed. If not, no goodnight kiss tonight."
Suddenly there was a scramble to grab their pillows and get into bed, all the boys lying on their beds, tense with the wait for their turn, even Raphael who knew he should be too old for it to matter.
The good night kiss was something at which Ginny excelled. As she stood at the end of the bed after closing the Venetian blinds and turning the lights off with a flick of her wand, the boys would often get goose bumps on their arms and legs. The anticipation was so sweet.
Tonight she began with Leo. "Ready, Leo?" She said and he said, "Yes!" ready for peace and sleep.
Ginny took the thin cotton top sheet and bunched it up in her hands while being careful to keep the two corners between her thumb and forefinger. Then she snapped it out so the pale blue sheet spread out like a parachute above him and gently, what felt wonderfully slowly, it wafted down and touched along his exposed skin – his knees, forearms, his cheeks and chin. Both air and cover somehow there in the same space at the same time – it felt like the ultimate freedom and protection.
Harry watched as she did this for each son and then finished it off by kissing each of them goodnight. This was the first time he was staying till their bedtime, normally choosing to leave immediately after dinner.
Moments later, "Would you like a drink?" Harry asked, as they went down the stairs and headed towards the living room.
"I don't mind," Ginny said tiredly as Harry conjured up Gillyweed on the rocks for her and mulled mead for himself.
She sank into the couch, stretching her legs out, sighing wearily. Harry handed her her drink and sat down at the other end of the couch.
"Mmmm, just what I needed." Ginny murmured, after a few sips.
Then with a hopeful smile on her face, "How about a foot massage?" she wiggled her toes in Harry's direction.
He laughed, setting his drink down, moving down the couch, placing her feet on his lap and proceeding to fulfill her request.
"My, you've got magical fingers." Ginny sighed contentedly.
"How come you're so exhausted today?" Harry asked.
Ginny shrugged, "I guess it was shuttling up and down from St. Mungo's to back here, and then to pick up the boys from the party..."
"Leo seems better now." Harry commented. Ginny nodded.
"Warren and Raphael looked like they had the time of their lives." He added.
"They did. I hope it didn't upset Greg even more though." Ginny frowned.
"I talked to Greg today. It seems to me Greg's trying to grow up too fast. He seems to think grown ups don't hurt so much when they lose someone." Harry explained.
As Ginny listened to Harry, she could not help thinking about what a great father he would make – he was wonderful with the boys, actually listened to them and was sensitive to their needs.
For some reason though, the thought of him having children of his own made her feel a quick stab of envy. She found herself staring at him, his black hair perpetually messy, his emerald eyes, his straight square jaw and that handsome, sweet smile.
"I know how it feels when you're forced to grow up." Harry was saying now. "I never knew what was worse – when I had to deal with losing Sirius and killing Voldermort or after that, when I had to find out what the purpose of my existence was."
"There were times after the Second War when I was convinced that I should have been the one to die instead of Voldermort. It would have been better that way. Because up until then, my entire existence was centered on saving the magical world from him and now that I had killed him, what was I supposed to do? What did I live for?"
Ginny did not say anything, remaining silent, but listening attentively to Harry. She could see the pain from the past contort his handsome features. He had never really talked about the time after the Second War – she remembered how he had kept mostly to himself, how there was rarely a smile on his face, how disillusioned he had seemed.
"Then slowly, after a while, I found myself, decided to start fresh somewhere else, moved to Florence, joined the quidditch team there…"
"You have changed." Ginny pointed out, "You're more self assured."
He smiled, "It took a long time."
"In a way, I'm glad Greg loves quidditch and has that part of his life to look forward to at least." Ginny said.
"He's a natural on the broom."
"That's what Terry used to say about him." Ginny smiled, proudly.
"I daresay he'll be better than me."
"I'm sure he will. He's my son after all." Ginny stated, with a teasing grin.
Harry laughed.
"Tell me about Florence." Ginny smiled at Harry, winningly. She loved to hear him talk about the beautiful architecture, the people, and the history of the Italian city.
How could Harry possibly resist that smile? So he talked about how the churches there were the best, with their elaborate frescoes, like the great cathedral Santa Maria del Fiore, he talked about a time when the city was rife with famous artists like Sandro Boticelli, Donatello and many more - the deep husky timbre of his voice lulling a weary Ginny into a deep slumber.
Harry ceased talking once he realized that she was sound asleep. He slowly got off the couch, without any sudden movement that would awaken her. Upon deciding that she would surely get a crick in her neck if she spent the night on the couch, he bend down, scooped her up in his arms in one fluid motion and carried her up to her bedroom. She barely stirred, remaining fast asleep, as he entered her bedroom and placed her on the bed. He covered her with the white chenille bedspread.
He stood there, for a while, watching her sleep, her wine red hair tangled upon the pillow, her arms thrown up in an uncharacteristically unfeminine manner, the rising and falling of her chest under the thin sheet, the curve of her faintly lined neck as it arched over the pillow, the fluttering of her eyelids as she dreamt – of what? Of whom?
A knot of desire tugged at him and it was all he could do not to lower himself onto the bed beside her. But he did not. Such an action was unthinkable. Instead he decided to head back home, to the solitude of Grimmauld Place.
As sunlight flooded the room, Ginny's eyes fluttered open. She turned over on her side, lazily, unwilling to remove herself from the comfort of her bed, especially on a Sunday morning. It was then that she noticed the piece of parchment and beautiful white lily on her bedside table. She picked up the parchment, a smile lifting the ends of her lips at the words written on it, in Harry's distinctly messy scrawl.
Dearest Gin,
Hope you had a good sleep. I broke my back carrying you up to your room. See you and the boys later at The Burrow for the surprise party.
Love,
HarryGinny snorted incredulously – he broke his back it seems.She picked up the lily and breathed in its tangy scent. Today already seemed like a good day.
All the Weasley children, their spouses, some of the grandchildren and Harry, had hatched the plan, right down to every single detail. Bill, Fleur, their children Amber and Rick would bring Mr. and Mrs. Weasley out for high tea at some posh restaurant, making it seem as if they had another birth announcement to make, something rather plausible in the Weasley clan.
That would leave The Burrow empty and the scene clear for the rest of them to put up decorations, organize the food and whatever else was necessary to do in preparation for a party. Then, at about six o'clock, Bill, Fleur, Amber and Rick would return with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, using Amber's fake stomach ache as an excuse to get home early.
By this time everything would be in its place and everyone would be in their places, hiding in the dark. Then as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stepped into the house, the lights would go on and everyone would jump out of their hiding places exclaiming, "Surprise! Happy Wedding Anniversary!"
Now, everything had been going accordingto the plan. The 'Happy Wedding Anniversary' banner hung from the living room wall. Balloons were charmed to float from the corners of the ceiling. Confetti floated in the air lending a festive atmosphere to the house.
At six o'clock, everyone was hiding in their various places all over the house, in the descending darkness of the approaching dusk. Ginny, who was hiding behind the long couch in the living room nearest to the door, with her sons and Harry, heard the popping sounds of her brother, his wife and children apparating with their parents.
"They're here." She whispered.
Harry nodded, turning towards the closet where Ron was hiding with Hermione, giving him the thumbs up signal, indicating that they had returned. George who was somehow squashed behind the settee chair by the fireplace with his wife Angelina, Fred, Alicia and their children, nodded in response to Harry's signal.
There was a slight pause before a loud crack could be heard as Bill, Fluer and their children disapparated.
"They're gone." Ginny whispered. It would be a few minutes before her parents walked in.
Harry held up his hand, so that everyone could see it, getting ready to count to three. He waited and waited, planning to start once the door opened.
He shot Ginny a quizzical look. Across the room, hiding under the stairs, Charlie's head popped out, "What's going on?" He whispered. Fred who caught his eye, shrugged.
Ginny held a finger to her lips to silence Harry, straining to hear what was going on outside. She heard the familiar creak of the garden chairs on the porch and the soft tones of her parents.
"They're sitting on the chairs at the porch...they're talking." Ginny whispered to Harry, "It'll be awhile before they come in."
"We need to get them in." Harry decided, frowning, trying to come up with a backup plan.
"What's up?" It was Fred, having crawled all the way fromhis spot near thefireplace to join them. Ginny explained to him the situation.
"Get one of the boys to go out and ask them to come in." Fred suggested, always with a good idea up his sleeve.
"Wonderful." Ginny murmured, turning to Warren, trusting his capability to lie with a straight face, "Warren, you go out to the porch and tell Grandma and Grandpa that your brothers and I are waiting inside, that we need to speak to them."
Fred nodded, before crawling back to his place to inform the rest about the recent developments.
"Mummy," Leo tugged at Ginny's robes, "Can't I go and bring Grandma and Grandpa in?" He pleaded.
Ginny hesitated.
"Why not, Gin?" Harry urged her, obviously succumbing to the youngest boy's pleas.
"Okay, fine, do you know what to say?" Ginny asked. Leo nodded, eagerly.
"Don't say anything about the party." Ginny reminded him.
"I won't, Mummy." He muttered, before getting to his feet and darting towards the door.
Leo closed the door behind and walked towards where his grandparents were sitting languidly, relaxing on the porch. He walked up briskly towards his grandmother and tugged on her sleeve.
She turned around, startled, "Darling, what are you doing here?" She asked, with a gentle delighted smile.
"Can you come into the house?" Leo asked, purposely avoiding her question. Molly exchanged a questioning look with Arthur.
"In a bit, darling, your grandma and I'd like to sit out here for a while. We just got back home." Arthur told him, genially.
Leo shifted from one foot to the other, looking at the ground nervously, "But I said I'd get you'll. They always send Warren to do things…I said I'd do it…It'll spoil the surprise." He attempted to explain, looking rather anxious.
"What surprise, darling?" Molly asked, turning around to face her grandson, now that he had her full attention.
"It's a great big surprise. They've taken most of the day preparing for it. Everybody's waiting for you inside."
"Well, then we mustn't keep them waiting." Arthur decided, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he exchanged amused glances with his wife above Leo's head.
Leo seemed seized with panic for a moment and let out a gasp, "Please, don't tell them that I told you about the surprise. I said I wouldn't."
"Well, you didn't really tell us anything about it, did you?" Mrs. Weasley pointed out, attempting to pacify him.
"Yes, I did. It's a party."
"A party!" Arthur exclaimed spiritedly, rising from his chair right away. Molly laughed, pulling Leo into her arms for a hearty embrace and a kiss before following her husband into the house.
The party was going pretty well, all things considered. The grandchildren were running amok in the backyard. Bill and Charlie were in charge of the grill, barbecuing hot dogs, chicken wings, otah and loads of other delicious food. The long picnic table nearby was laden with the different potluck dishes done by all the Weasley women. Garden chairs had been set up all over the garden, in clusters, to facilitate sitting, eating and chatting.
Harry had just gotten a second helping of Ginny's excellent marble cake and returned to his seat under the huge maple tree. He took his seat between Ginny and Hermione. Ron, sat beside the latter, sipping from a can of firewhiskey courtesy of the twins who were seated on Ginny's other side with their wives.
"The cake's delicious." Harry commented.
"I thought it was rather dry." Ginny told him.
Hermione made a noise that sounded very much like a snort. Everyone stared at her.
"Choked on a piece of hotdog." She explained, pointing at the hotdog on her plate.
She avoided meeting the eyes of Ron who seemed not to believe her.
Just then Amber, Bill's twelve-year-old daughter came running towards them, accompanied by Raphael and Greg.
"Hey!" Harry grinned at the children as they came to a halt beside him, panting.
"Uncle Harry," Raphael began, with a roll of his eyes at his cousin because even though she was older than him, she was a girl, a rather girly one at that, " Amber here wants to know why you're not married?"
Harry blanched. Hermione definitely snorted this time. Ron looked very bemused.
"I've been meaning to ask you that myself." George piped up, grinning impishly. Angelina swatted at his arm reproachfully.
"I haven't found the right woman yet." Harry replied, honestly.
"Happy now?" Greg asked Amber who stuck her tongue out at him before turning to Harry, "When will you find her?" she asked, almost fretful for Harry's lack of a love life.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll find someone for him." Ginny assured the young witch, biting back a grin.
Hermione snorted once more. Ginny glared at her, "What's with you and all the snorting? Isn't that what Ron usually does?"
Before Hermione could retort though, Ron who had turned a customary red in the face beat her to it, "What's that supposed to mean? I don't snort like a pig."
Hermione was all riled up by now, "What? I sound like a pig?"
Harry covered his face with his hands, "This is why I left this country," he murmured, referring to their incessant bickering.
Everyone laughed while Ron and Hermione looked awfully sheepish.
"I'd better go check on the boys." Ginny said, rising from her seat, her eyes following Amber, Raphael and Greg as they returned to other end of the backyard where the rest of the children were playing.
"I'll come with you." Alicia stood up as well, "You have no idea what my two rascals can get up to." She murmured, referring to her two daughters, Heidi and Emma. "It's all his fault – spoiling them rotten." Alicia glared at Fred, before going off with Ginny who was smiling with glee to see her brother being admonished by his wife.
"I need a drink." Fred scowled at their retreating backs.
"I'm just glad I don't have any children." George said, smugly.
"I second that," Ron said.
"Do you want me to hex you?" Hermione asked him, sternly.
"I need a drink as well." Ron quickly stood up to follow his brothers, intent on escaping Hermione's impending wrath.
Once they were gone, Hermione moved her chair slightly closer to Harry's, leaning towards him so that no one else could hear what she was about to say.
"So when are you going to tell her?" Hermione asked, quietly.
"Tell who what?" Harry asked, completely mystified.
"Tell Ginny that you're in love with her." Hermione stated, plainly.
Harry went terribly pale, his mouth going dry, thoroughly taken aback. "Are you out of your mind! I'm not in love with her!" Harry lied, managing to look somewhat indignant.
"Oh please, I'm your oldest friend, Harry, I know you well enough." Hermione said understatedly.
Harry's shoulders slumped in resignation, "Is it that obvious?" He asked.
Hermione nodded, "To everyone else except Ginny."
"That's good, isn't it?" Harry felt the color return to his face and his pulse go back to its normal rate.
"It's always good for someone to know that they're loved." She commented, sagely.
"Not when that someone else is already in love." Harry muttered, despondently.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione shook her head at him, smiling sadly, like a mother at her naïve child, "She can't hold onto Terry forever. Even she knows it. She just needs a reason to move on."
Harry did not say anything. His gaze was fixed upon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who were sitting alone together at the picnic table. All this while they had been preoccupied with one or another of their children or grandchildren. This was the perfect opportunity for Harry to speak to both ofthem in private.
He excused himself from Hermione who promptly moved over to join Angelina and Gail, Charlie's wife, to gossip about the latest scandal at the now largely ridiculed Ministry of Magic. Harry walked across the lawn towards the picnic table.
"Happy Wedding anniversary," He said with a warm smile as he sat down across from Mr. and Mrs.Weasley
"Thank you, dearie." Molly beamed at him.
"Nothing to it, really." Arthur muttered modestly.
"Well, considering that I did all the work, it was nothing for him." Molly commented, good-naturedly.
Harry laughed and then growing serious, "I need to speak to you both about something very important." He said.
Arthur nodded, "Go on, son."
"You know how I consider you'll as my parents – after all, you've been there for me practially for all of my life."
"You're always one of the family, Harry, you know that." Molly smiled at him.
Harry nodded, "Before I say what I have to say, I just want to make it clear to you'll that I would never do anything to hurt you or any one of your children or grandchildren."
Harry took a deep breath at this point, then looked straight at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, " I want you both to know that I love your daughter very much."
This declaration did not shock them as much as Harry expected but then again, considering what Hermione had said earlier, it was no surprise.They did not say anything, silently waiting for him to go on, knowing that he had more to say.
"The thing is, I don't want to rush anything. I don't want to pressure Ginny. She's been through a lot. I want her to take her time-"
"But she needs to move on." Molly interrupted him, heatedly.
"When she's ready to, she will." Harry said steadfastly.
Arthur put his hand on his wife's arm, nodding in agreement with Harry, "He's right, honey. With time, everyone will be with who they're supposed to be with." He soothed her.
"Don't be mistaken, Mrs. Weasley. I definitely plan to be there long term for Ginny and the boys. In fact, I've already begun making arrangements with my agent to retire from Quidditch. I've also been considering the assistant coach position at Chudley Cannons – it's less time consuming and doesn't involve much traveling." Harry explained.
Molly reluctantly agreed. Harry's resoluteness had convinced her.
TBCAuthor's note
Pardon the errors - my beta reader's busy
Some say Mrs. Weasley's pushy and rude, some say she's great cos she cares tons about her children – I say I can't please everyone…
I kind of portrayed Mrs. Weasley based on my own late grandmother– mine is a matriarchal family – whom I love and respect. She had a strong personality, could even be domineering at times but she did whatever she did with her children and grandchildren's welfare in mind.
Besides, Mrs. Weasley's not telling him to marry Ginny, she's suggesting it in her own 'Mrs. Weasley' way because she knows he's in love with her daughter and he's the best person for her. She just wants him to know that he has her approval, basically. But anyway, Harry's not a pushover. You'll see in this chapter.
This story completes in one more chapter not including epilogue if I decide to put it up but chances are I won't.
You're a grandmother? Or are you pulling my leg?
I don't know what fanfic is up to really deleting stories without even giving a notice or forewarning. Blasphemous if you ask me.
I love 'Lovely Bones'. It's one of my favourite books. My favourite characters are Susie's father and Ray Singh – they're both such compassionate, strong men with a heart of gold. They just don't make men like that in real life, especially nowadays. There will be more references to the book in my story – hope you enjoy it.
Ginny's OOC? I wrote her the way I thought'd she be as a mother and a widow.
Thank you for pointing out all those errors. I corrected them instantly.
Wolf's scream: You'd make a wonderful beta reader. Thank you so much for pointing out all my mistakes. I must admit, as much as I love writing and try to be good at it; I'm still a novice. If I ever became a professional writer, and had an editor, he or she would hopefully have the hindsight you do.
I guess most of you didn't like the previous chapter very much cos I got considerably less reviews this time. Hopefully this chapter is better. Please do let me know what you think of this story and how it's going along etc.
REVIEW! REVIEW! NEED REVIEW FIX BADLY! FINAL CHAPTER COMING UP IF YOU REVIEW!