Chapter 12

Apologies and Explanations

"Mum, give them some time alone for Merlin's sake!" pleaded Ron, managing to keep his mother seated in one of the wooden chairs situated around the kitchen table.

"Time alone? They'll be having plenty of time alone soon enough, and right now I want to see my daughter!"

Hermione walked in from outside, one hand on her abdomen casually. "Have they come downstairs yet?"

"No, Harry's probably propo — "

"Ronald Oliver Weasley, if one more word comes from that enormous mouth of yours I swear I will permanently sew it shut!" warned Hermione menacingly.

"P — Propose? Is that what you were going to say?" interrogated Mrs. Weasley, her face paling slightly. "My baby is going to get married?"

"See what you've done now, Ron? We're not sure, Molly, but yes, we think Harry was planning on asking Ginny to marry him," explained Hermione gently, glaring daggers at Ron.

Before anyone else had the chance to scold Ron, a pair of footsteps were heard skulking down the stairs. A head of untidy black hair was seen first, followed by the crestfallen face of Harry. "I'm . . . uh . . . going for a walk, you guys."

"But what about — you know?" implied Ron, vaguely waving a hand towards the stairs in the direction of Ginny's room.

"We'll talk later, okay?"

Hermione looked on silently as Harry offered them a wan smile before stepping from the Burrow, looking for all the world as if he were trying to hold back tears. "Leave him," advised Hermione as Ron made to walk after him. "Something went wrong."

Ron widened his sky-blue eyes at her in comprehension, then gave her a slight push for the stairs whispering, "Go talk to Ginny."

She nodded and headed up the stairs, watching out of the corner of her eye as Ron pushed open the screen door and went to question Harry about what could have possibly happened that would cause him to be less than elated at Ginny's return.

Ron heard the door slam shut behind him and he easily spotted Harry storming off toward the lake. "Harry, mate, wait up will you?" Harry barely broke his stride at the sound of Ron's voice.

"What the hell, Harry? What happened?" panted Ron, finally able to catch up to his friend by using all of the strength he'd gained during his Quidditch playing at Hogwarts.

Harry whirled around to face Ron, his face turning from pale to almost red at the fury he felt for Ron coming after him when he'd made it clear he wanted to be alone. "It's none of your business! You hear me? It's none of your damn business!"

"Where do you get off talking to me like that?" accused Ron viciously. "What have I ever done to you besides be your friend?"

"You brought Ginny back, when she was obviously much happier wherever she was!" Harry sighed and upon reaching a tree, relaxed his back against it and knocked his head once or twice against the rough bark.

"Don't go doing that, now . . ." Ron pleaded with him, knowing full well that a Dobby-like Harry would be of no use to anyone.

"Why not? I've got nothing left to live for, I might as well knock myself into oblivion."

"What are you blubbering on about now? Everything's all fine and well, Ginny's back — and what's all this about her being happier where she was? When we found her she couldn't wait to come back to you."

"Nothing is "fine and well" now, Ron. And I find that hard to believe. You really want to know what happened?"

"Of course I want to know, why do you think I followed you out here?" asked Ron impatiently.

"I asked your sister to marry me and she said no. Just "no." Not even an explanation, no excuse . . . nothing."

"What?" asked Ron, completely flabbergasted as to why Ginny would refuse to marry Harry, the person she'd sworn to love since she was ten years old.

"Don't make me repeat it, it's painful enough to hear it the first time around."

"There's got to be a reasonable explanation . . . uh, did she tell you where she was in the first place and why she ran away?" queried Ron, not sure if Ginny would appreciate Harry finding out from anyone but herself, and definitely not wanting to be the one to experiment.

"She didn't . . . I immediately hit her with the proposal after she walked into the room."

"And let me guess, then you just stormed out after she said no, not even giving her a chance to explain herself?"

"Are you taking lessons from Hermione? Since when have you become so sensitive to women's feelings?"

"Since I found out that you're not and it made me look good next to you."

"Hey!" Harry protested, using his own unique way to apologize for being cross with Ron.

"Now, will you please go back to my sister and give her the opportunity to tell you what happened," Ron ordered, also letting Harry know he wasn't mad at him. Harry knew that his friend was just worried about him, and appreciated that fact.

"What could be so horrible for her to deny herself the chance of happiness?"

"Again, go ask her. I'm not about to tell you again, so go! And you should be the one to talk about someone denying themselves for happiness."

With one final, hesitant look toward Ron, Harry did as he was told and set off back toward the Burrow. The whole way there all he could think about was why Ginny had turned him down. Was he really not good enough for her? The only thing he knew was that when they were together he had the most wonderful feeling of completion, of being whole, and he very much wished that for her as well. Even if it meant that she'd found someone else to feel it with and he'd have to let her go.

He peered in through the back entrance of the house, spotting Hermione coming down the stairs. She spied him gazing through the door and came over to pull him inside by his ear.

"Ow!" he whined, rubbing the raw spot where her nails had dug into his skin. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"What the bloody hell do you think that was for, Harry James Potter?"

"In the habit of using full titles today, 'Mione?" joked Ron, coming inside just as he heard Hermione's ranting.

"Oh, shut up Ron! I suppose Harry's told you what happened up there?" she bit back sharply, giving Harry a rough shove up the stairs, causing him to catch the tip of his sneaker on the bottom one and grab the railing before he fell flat on his face.

With a frightened look in her direction, Harry fled up the stairs, realizing the prospect of facing Ginny was a much more safer one than staying put and dealing with Hermione's hormones. As he hurried up the stairs, he heard Hermione's shrill voice taking it up with Ron about how "insensitive you bloody men are!" Harry hadn't heard her curse this much since the reign of Umbridge in their fifth year.

"At least I'm not as emotional as she is," came a soft voice from behind Harry's back. He had been so preoccupied with escaping Hermione's wrath that he hadn't even noticed Ginny standing in her doorway.

"Gin, I'm so sor — "

Ginny closed her eyes. "Please don't apologize to me, Harry. All you did was love me, and how did I repay you? Flat out denying you without even an explanation . . . "

"Care to fill me in on current events?" asked Harry, placing a hand on the small of her back and leading her into her room, making sure the door was closed behind them.

"I — I guess so. I don't want to endanger anyone, it is my fault after all — "

"Ginny, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Okay, let me explain all of this to you before there are any more misunderstandings. When I was taking a nap in our hotel in the Bahamas, you could sort of say I was "summoned" by Mr. Corner . . . better known as Cillian. I supposed he used some type of spell that could transport someone through dreams to you, and make it seem as if it really were a dream. But it was too real, I could see right through his tricks. Anyway, he told me that my baby was rightfully his, seeing as how it's his granddaughter. Yes," she said, seeing the shocked expression on Harry's face. "Mr. Corner confirmed that I'm having a girl. He insists that she belongs to the Dark Side, and told me that she'd eventually find her way back there. I don't want to marry you, Harry . . . yet. But I will, after all of this is settled, I swear that's the first thing I'm going to do. There are no words to tell you how much I love you, but we shouldn't risk a wedding until after this is taken care of. Imagine how ticked Cillian would be if he found out his granddaughter's father is the famous Hero against the Dark Lord. Do you understand, or are you terribly mad?"

"Did you say "father"?" asked Harry, mouth wide open.

"Um . . . did I?" Ginny tried to cover up, failing miserably; she never had been a convincing liar. "Look, I shouldn't have gone assuming things like that — "

"No, I mean — you're right. I want to be her father. I want to raise her as my own daughter. I want her — as well as you — to have my name."

Ginny's heart melted at his words. She leaned over to kiss him, pouring all the pent up sentiments she'd felt over the time she'd been missing into it. He reached over and positioned his hands on the back of her neck, smiling against her mouth as he felt movement from the small swelling of her stomach. As their kiss deepened, Harry flicked his wand at the door and cast a Silencing Charm on the room.

"You insolent little brat, pay attention! I want you to go to her, lie to her . . . tell her it was because of me, whatever your pathetic mind can come up with, but do it! I want that child the second it's born. I won't risk her being exposed to the Light Side!" shouted Cillian Corner at his son, who stood with bowed head before him.

"Yes, father. As you wish."

"That's more like it. Now, surely you must be attracted to her, it can't be all that hard to manage this task . . . "

"Of course, sir. I'm ready to do your will. It is my child, after all. She has no proof of what I did, I could fight for custody if I wished," answered Michael, regaining some of his courage at the anticipation of facing Ginny again. Despite her unwillingness to sleep with him, he'd been fiercely attracted to the fiery redhead all throughout his Hogwarts career.

"That's my boy, fight for what's yours," his father spurred him on, patting him on the back before leaving the library where they'd held their discussion.

"That's right. She's as much mine as she is yours," Michael stated as an afterthought, nearly to himself. "And I'm coming to claim her."