Chapter One Hundred and Six: Christmas at the Burrow
"So Snape has been talking to Malfoy, then," Ron said as they were peeling sprouts in the Burrow's kitchen.
"Well, Malfoy's been avoiding him, by the sound of it, so we still don't know what his next plan is going to be," Harry said.
"Maybe our resident Seer can tell us more?" Ron said with a grin.
Daphne, who was still a bit worried about her own conversation with Snape, responded without thinking. "Poison, only you'll be the one poisoned instead of Dumbledore after a mishap with a love potion meant for Harry," she said.
All three of them froze.
"Well…damn," Ron said. "You, er, don't happen to know when this will happen, do you?"
Daphne shook her head. "No. I mean, under normal circumstances I wouldn't think something like this would even be possible, but given my track record…"
"I'll tell Dumbledore about it during our next lesson," Harry said. "Maybe he'll be able to put a stop to it…though I wouldn't know how, since we don't know how the poison will come into the castle, or how it'll end up getting to Ron…"
"Hey, er, I do…survive, right?" Ron asked hesitantly.
Daphne looked at Ron and tried to open her mind to anything divinatory. "I…think so," she said after few moments. "I mean…the feeling I'm getting is…it'll be bad, but you'll fully recover." She was frustrated that she couldn't tell anything more.
Ron, however, seemed relieved. "Good. In that case, I hope that love potion you mentioned is at least from a pretty girl…probably not going to beat Hermione, though…" His face turned red when he realized he'd said that last bit out loud.
"Well, better warn Hermione up front, at any rate. That way she'll know why you're acting like a prat when it happens," Harry said with a small grin.
"Harry, by now you surely know Ron well enough to know that he is always a prat," Fred said, entering the kitchen. "Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them."
"I'll be seventeen in two-and-a-bit months' time," Ron said grumpily. "And then I'll be able to do it by magic."
"But meanwhile we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a– whoops-a-daisy."
"You made me do that!" Ron said angrily, sucking his cut thumb. "You wait, when I'm seventeen–"
"I'm sure you'll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected skills," Fred yawned.
Mrs. Weasley now entered the kitchen as well. "Fred, George, I'm sorry, dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill will have to squeeze in with you two!" she said.
"No problem," George said. "Then, as Charlie isn't coming home, that just leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur shares with Ginny and Daphne everyone should be comfortable. Well, they'll have a bed, anyway," Mrs. Weasley said.
Sharing with Fleur, huh? That could be interesting, if only because Daphne knew Ginny would hate it. It was a bit of a shame, too, because if Fleur hadn't been there Daphne and Ginny would've been alone, and Daphne wasn't going to pretend she hadn't been looking forward to that, but at least she might be able to get to know Fleur a bit, this way.
First, however, she'd have to get through Christmas Eve, and the moment Mrs. Weasley had found Celestina Warbeck's broadcast, Daphne realized that Ginny had been entirely right about how horrible it was.
Fleur seemed to think so as well, as she kept talking very loudly to drown it out, causing Mrs. Weasley to raise the volume to deafening levels.
"Regretting coming here already?" Ginny asked with a grin.
"With you and Harry here? Never," Daphne said. "But this music truly is awful, yes."
Ginny laughed, but then her expression soured a bit. "I'm sure Phlegm won't waste any time complaining about it to us tonight," she said.
Now it was Daphne's turn to laugh. "It'll be fine, I'm sure," she said. "Maybe sharing a room is an ideal moment to make peace."
"Yeah, or it will drive me crazy and I'll need to explain to Bill why I cast the Bat-Bogey Hex on his fiancée," Ginny said.
Daphne grinned. "Well, that'll be a fun story, at least. And your mum might not even be that angry about it, either."
That evening, Daphne lay on her usual mattress in Ginny's room, and Fleur had the one normally used by Hermione.
"Zat Celestina Warbeck was 'orrible," Fleur said, and Daphne grinned at Ginny, who scowled.
"Yeah, well, better get used to it, because that's how Christmases are here," Ginny said.
"Next year, I will take Bill over to France for Christmas with my family. We 'ave a five-course meal, with ze finest wine, and–"
"Yeah, would you believe how little I care about that?" Ginny interrupted.
"Why not try to care about it?" Daphne asked. "I mean, everyone celebrates things like this differently, don't they? Isn't it fun to compare family traditions?"
Ginny scoffed.
"Ze leetle girl does not seem to like me much," Fleur said disdainfully.
Ginny wanted to give a furious reply, but Daphne held up her hands to stop her.
"Well, maybe because you're calling her a little girl," she said to Fleur. "I mean, you didn't think much of Harry when he was entered into the Triwizard Tournament, and he won the damn thing. And he was a year younger then than Ginny is now, and she's only two years younger than you were then." Daphne sighed. "Like it or not, you're going to be in this room together for the next few days. Might as well try to get along."
"Don't feel like it. Bill's just with her because she's a Veela," Ginny said.
"'E ees not!" Fleur said heatedly.
Daphne was half-afraid she'd be caught in the middle of a duel in a moment, but for the time being neither Fleur nor Ginny had drawn a wand.
"'Course he is! Don't you think I haven't seen you around him? What would a guy like him want from you?" Ginny asked.
"Do you know," Fleur said, her voice icy cold, " 'ow often I hear things like zat? 'Oh, she only got in because she's a Veela', 'She doesn't know anyzing, she just uses 'er Veela magic'… I'm seeck of eet. I was already seeck of eet when I came 'ere for ze Tournament. Do you zink I needed ze money? Of course not! I wanted zem all to see zat I was more zan just my looks!"
She scoffed bitterly. "And instead, I was last. Ze idiot once again. And zen I met your bruzzer before ze Third Task. And after I spoke to 'eem 'e wished me luck. 'E did not care about what I was. 'E did not sneer like many ozzers. And when I was Stunned, 'e came to see me, to ask 'ow I was doing. 'E is with me because 'e likeswho I am, not because 'e's ensnared by me. And zat ees why I am with 'eem, too."
"I…I didn't know that," Ginny said softly.
"Of course you didn't. You just judged like ze ozzers," Fleur said.
"I know how that feels…" Daphne muttered.
"'Ow would you?" Fleur asked.
Daphne smiled humorlessly. "I'm a Slytherin. The House known for being evil, backstabbing, blood supremacist bastards. I'm even a pureblood. The second you tell people you're a Slytherin, they'll assume you're evil. I've been working against that image ever since my second year, and it's actually working quite well within Hogwarts, but bloody Voldemort doesn't make it easy, considering most of his Death Eaters used to be Slytherins. Believe me, Fleur, I know what it's like to be judged by people who don't even know you, even if it's not quite the same."
She turned to Ginny. "See, and that is why you talk to people, first. I mean, even you tried to leave this room through the wall when you found out I was a Slytherin, and now you're my girlfriend."
"Yeah…Look, I…I'm sorry, Fleur," Ginny said.
"Eet ees fine," Fleur said dismissively. "And…I am sorry, too. Eet was wrong of me to call you a leetle girl. Bill ees always telling me 'ow proud 'e ees of you."
"He is?"
"'E says 'e wouldn't like to be both ze youngest child and ze only girl and zat 'e would 'ave gone mad long ago," Fleur said with a small smile.
Ginny grinned. "That sounds like him…friends, then?" She extended her arm over Daphne's mattress to Fleur's.
Fleur smiled and took her hand. "Friends."
Fleur and Ginny actually being friendly toward each other shocked Mrs. Weasley possibly even more than the news Ginny was dating both Harry and Daphne the year before.
Even more shocking than that, however, was the arrival of Percy with the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour.
"Merry Christmas, Mother," Percy said rather stiffly.
"You must forgive the intrusion," Scrimgeour said. "Percy and I were in the vicinity — working, you know — and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."
It was an obvious lie. Percy looked like he'd been dragged kicking and screaming to the Burrow, and Scrimgeour, being an ex-Auror, would be more than capable of doing that even now. Percy simply stood there, stiff as a poker, staring over everyone's heads. Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George were observing him with stony faces.
"Please, come in, sit down, Minister!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Have a little purkey, or some tooding…I mean–"
"No, no, my dear Molly," Scrimgeour said. "I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly. We've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, I assure you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody cared to show me your charming garden…ah, that young man's finished, why doesn't he take a stroll with me?"
"You really prefer fieldwork to politics, don't you, Minister?" Daphne asked idly.
No one in the kitchen believed even for a second that Scrimgeour didn't know who Harry was or that he had chosen him at random. Scrimgeour ignored her.
"Yeah, all right," Harry said, a calculating look in his eyes.
Both Remus and Mr. Weasley wanted to step in, but Harry just softly told them it was fine and left the kitchen with Scrimgeour.
Immediately, Daphne turned to Percy. "So, were you ever going to reply to those letters, or…?"
"I saw no point in doing so," Percy said stiffly, keeping his eyes locked with his brothers'.
There clearly wasn't going to be much of a conversation as long as everyone was in the kitchen, but Daphne felt a bit awkward asking Percy to step out of the kitchen with her, especially since she was fairly certain that whatever Scrimgeour wanted from Harry, the conversation would be short. Still, given the present atmosphere in the kitchen, she felt she had to make some effort.
"Okay, Percy, come with me for two seconds here," she said. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, there is something I have to discuss with Percy; I promise I'll keep it short so he can spend some more time with you," she added.
Then she grabbed Percy's sleeve and dragged him out of the kitchen, knowing full well that everyone was staring at her.
"Okay," she said once she'd closed the door behind her. "What is the deal? You know Harry and Dumbledore were right. You know Voldemort is back. Why not admit you were wrong and reconcile with your family?" she asked.
"I can't take back what I said. I also can't honestly say I didn't mean it," Percy said.
"You don't need to, though, do you? No one's saying you need to come back and live here again, either. But you and your family are on the same side, and you were wrong. Everything you said that has nothing to with that one fact is irrelevant. Just clear the air on this, at least. It's too dangerous right now, Percy. You can't leave these things unsaid, because what if something happens so that you can't?"
Percy looked a bit uneasy, but he said nothing.
Knowing she'd said all she could, Daphne stepped back into the kitchen. Harry and Scrimgeour weren't back yet.
"Er, I, er just wanted to say that last year, I was wrong about Harry and Dumbledore, and they were right," Percy said awkwardly. Daphne grinned at him.
"That's all you were wrong about, was it?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"It takes courage to admit mistakes where family is concerned, Arthur," Remus said, with a faint smile at Daphne. "I think you should accept the hand that's being offered, however tentatively."
"Well…fine, then. I accept this apology," Mr. Weasley said, just as awkwardly as Percy had done moments before.
"Well, I don't…" Fred muttered.
"Nor do I," George replied.
Fortunately for everyone involved, Harry and Scrimgeour then returned to the kitchen, and it was clear their conversation hadn't gone very smoothly either. Scrimgeour and Percy then left in a huff, while everyone wanted to know what Scrimgeour had wanted from Harry.
"He wanted your support?" Daphne said incredulously when Harry had finished talking.
Harry nodded. "He said it was my moral duty to help the Ministry, or something…"
"What an idiot," Ginny said scathingly.
"Umbridge still works there, by the way. After everything she's done, they haven't even sacked her," Harry said. "Y'know, I almost wish their fear that Dumbledore wants to take over the Ministry was true, because at least Dumbledore would properly manage things for the most part."
Bit short, this chapter, but I'm incredibly pressed for time and I need to have a stash of chapters for next weekend, when I'm going to yet another international tournament and won't be able to write.
Also, I hate writing Fleur's accent. I probably missed a good number of words, but whatever.
