Title: Harvesters
Author: Emmylou
Summary: Grief is a selfish emotion, and when Harry and Ron become desperate for the things that meant so much to Hermione, will these things give them comfort or rip them further apart?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, the characters, creations, and settings are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and other associated trademarks. This is a fictional piece created solely in respect of the original work with no infringement intended, nor any profit being made.
Christmas Day went quickly; Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek twice- once upon his arrival and once in a rather lingering manner at the end of the evening. Ron offered him a very formal apology, which Harry accepted without much feeling.
He spent most of the day sitting with Ginny and laughing over Bill and Fleur's continual arguing. "Fleur wants a cottage and Bill thinks they're too expensive," she whispered in explanation.
There was a solemn moment at dinner where everyone (even in their funny hats) toasted Hermione's memory and nearly everyone's eyes drifted to the unused place set at the table at least once throughout the meal.
Harry had drunk a little too much of the twins' experimental cocktails, including one rather dubious Muggle one called the Aneurysm (Mr. Weasley had downed seven and had to be carried upstairs), but he got home safely and staggered into his bedroom.
It was only then, as the world span above him, that Harry remembered the sale tomorrow. It would be worth it, he decided.
…
Harry was up early on Boxing Day. He gulped down some tea and made some toast as the re-runs of the Christmas specials played on the radio. He showered and pulled on his smartest day-robes and the new hat, gloves, and scarf Mrs. Weasley had given him.
He snatched up his wand and Apparated to Hermione's home, which had never appeared so different on the outside.
"Disgusting isn't it?" growled Ron, who had appeared seconds later with the rest of his family (Mr. Weasley looking rather the worse for wear). "They've got 'For Sale' signs up everywhere and they had her parents carting out her personal stuff…no thought at all. I can't do anything…I don't work in that department."
"Why don't you ask Janie?" said Harry.
"She said it's none of her business."
"She's right, it's not."
Harry couldn't help but think of Hermione in a situation like that. She probably would have marched up to the Head Goblin and shouted at him until he changed the date of the sale. But there was Janie, hair once again piled up impossibly high, looking very out of place in the sharp scenery of snow and hills. She was peering down at a clipboard and occasionally asking a goblin something.
"Come on, we'll have to get seats," said Mrs. Weasley. She led the group up the hill and immediately moved towards Mrs. Granger, who was standing without her coat in the snow, and crying weakly.
Everyone else took seas at the front and watched as the rows behind them filled up with possible buyers. Each seat was red velvet and gold, a ornate paddle resting on each one to bid with.
"Look, you can still see the lights," whispered Ginny, pointing to a lower window where their Christmas tree was just visible.
"It's not fair," spat Fred. "Look at them," he gestured to the people who were walking in and out of the house to view before taking their seats, "they look like kids drooling over Puking Pastilles in the shop."
"Brother…can I have a word?" said George suddenly. He and his brother got up and moved away for a moment, but no one had taken much notice as Fleur was requesting to go and look inside the house and Bill wasn't having it.
"I like zis house!"
"It's Hermione's house."
"Not anymore it is not!"
"Fleur!"
Fred returned to his seat, a gleam in his eyes. "Rustled up a bit of entertainment that Hermione might've appreciated," he explained with a wink.
George returned a few minutes later and the entire Weasley family sat poised.
"You haven't done anything awful have you?" demanded Mrs. Weasley, unable to control herself. "I won't have you making a scene. Oh well I never!"
She pointed to a young Witch, who had arrived with a large tray of drinks.
"Disgusting," ranted Mrs. Weasley. "Absolutely disgusting. How is poor Helen going to manage…watching people toast the sale of her daughter's house like that? I want you to have a word with people at that bank," she said furiously to Ron and Bill.
"No one touch the stuff," said Mr. Weasley in-between groans of pain.
"I should think you had enough last night," said his wife coldly. "'Aneurysm'- whatever next!"
The girl went round the rest of the gathering, not batting an eyelid when each of the Weasley family and Harry turned her down with a glare and barely held back mutters of 'disgusting'.
"What? Oh no thank you…" Janie bore down upon them, narrowly missing the girl with the drinks. "You don't mind if I sit here do you Ron?" she asked, squeezing in next to him.
"Well-" said Ron.
"Lovely. I'm here for work of course…bidding for one of my clients." She turned to smile at Harry.
Harry looked quite alarmed at her openness and said desperately; "Pleased to meet you."
"Is this your family Ron," asked Janie cheerfully. "How wonderful to meet you all, Ron may have spoken about me…I'm Janie Wechsler."
"She's a colleague," said Ron hastily. Harry glared at him.
"Charmed," said Mrs. Weasley, who was on her other side and seemed anything but.
"Are we ready to start?" called the Head Goblin, climbing up onto his podium. The whole group stiffened in anticipation. "Very well, thank you all for coming. We are here to arrange the sale of the house in front of you, formerly the property of a Miss. Hermione Jane Granger, currently residing in the property of the bank.
"I open the bidding at-"
A wizard behind Ginny coughed loudly down the back of her neck.
"Excuse me!" she snapped.
"Ahem, I open the bidding at two-thousand Galleons. Do I have a bid?"
He nodded towards a plump Witch at the back. "Very good- do I have two-thousand one-hundred?"
"Here," said Janie.
"Two-thousand two-hundred?"
"Here," said a Wizard.
The man behind Ginny started coughing again. Something about his cough must've been infectious because a man near the back started up too.
"Two-thousand three-hundred?"
"Here," said Janie.
"Two-thousand four-hundred?"
"Here," said the fat Witch, before she herself started coughing.
"Two-thousand five-hundred?"
"Here," said Janie, but she was almost drowned out by the cacophony of rows, and rows of people coughing with all the force their bodies could muster.
"I say, what's going on?" demanded the Head Goblin.
Fred and George, seemingly unable to contain themselves any longer, leapt up and turned to address the coughing crowd.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Fred. "I'm so pleased you've enjoyed the drinks handed out by darling Verity here," he waved towards the young woman who was still holding the tray.
"Unfortunately for you, they also contained some of our new and exclusive Coughing Crystals," said George with a wicked grin.
"One slurp and you'll be coughing for days- great for Weddings, Christenings, and meetings," shouted Fred above the noise.
The Head Goblin was banging his gravel on his podium and shouting 'Order'. Fred and George ignored him.
"The cure is a snip at two sickles a go," shouted George. "But oh dearie me…" he patted his pockets in a theatrical display of absent-mindedness, "I only seem to have one…and the rest won't go on sale for a month. Shall we all find out who'll bid the highest to get it?"
"Do I hear one-thousand galleons?" yelled Fred.
"ORDER!"
"Can your stomach take a month's worth of coughing?" demanded George. "No sleep!"
"ORDER! DO I HEAR THREE-THOUSAND?"
"Here!" yelled Ron suddenly. He stood with a look of determination.
"Three thousand four-hundred," shouted Janie, looking positively terrified at Ron's sudden madness.
"No rest!"
"Six-hundred!"
"Nine-hundred!" yelled Janie.
People were getting up, staggering to the apparition point. Others were on the floor clutching their stomachs.
"No quiet."
"Four-thousand!"
"Four-thousand one-hundred."
"Eating's going to be fun for you all…"
"What are you doing Ron?" wailed Mrs. Weasley as bidding reached six-hundred and the last few coughing buyers had been chased away by Verity, who was running after them with her tray.
"Two-hundred!"
"Three-hundred."
How far was Ron going to take this, wondered Harry. The determined look on Ron's face told him that he wasn't going to stop until he reached a point where he could not carry on because the bank wouldn't lend him that much. And Harry had told Janie not to stop until they had won.
As the bids rose alarmingly, Harry began to hope that Ginny really could get him that job…he would win because he had told Janie to, but Ron would probably put him in serious debt along the way. And if he didn't pay Ron would win the house by default and then he would be landed with the debt.
"Six-thousand."
"Six-thousand two-hundred."
Harry was now officially in debt, but the house was worth it, he told himself. Even if he had to pay back a million it was worth it.
"Seven-thousand."
"Seven-thousand five-hundred."
"Eight-thousand."
"Ron no!" cried Mrs. Weasley.
"I've been saving mum," he said. "I've got a job…this is worth it."
The bids rose, nine-thousand, ten, eleven…
"No Ron," said Ginny suddenly. She grabbed his paddle and with a wave of her wand silenced him. "Don't make me body bind you!" she warned.
"Eleven-thousand," said Janie, looking with alarm towards her would-be beau.
"Do I have twelve?" wheezed the Goblin. Ginny tapped Ron's nose with her wand.
"Don't even think about it," she hissed.
"All done at eleven-thousand Galleon…going once…" Ron cast a desperate look at Ginny, "going twice…sold to bidder 1014!"
Harry sagged with relief, but not for the same reasons as the rest of the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley, with a final shocked look at Ron (who had been given the use of his voice back and was using it to swear quite violently) dashed off to comfort a quaking Mrs. Granger.
"There, there…" Harry heard her say. "I'm sure if you ask the bank they'll tell you who the bidder was…maybe the person would let you come at visit…"
"Wonder if we can send that anonymous bidder a nice house-warming gift," snarled Fred.
"Who was it?" said Ron suddenly, just realising who was sitting next to him. He clutched at Janie's robes. "Tell me who it was!"
"I can't!" cried Janie, sounding quite terrified. "You know I can't!"
"Leave her alone Ron," warned Bill. "She's just doing her job."
Ron looked ready to cry. "I know…it's just I wanted to house to go to someone who cared. Not some stranger."
"I'm sure they'll love the house as much as Hermione did," said Ginny kindly. "We'll always have the memories of Hermione and we'll have the little things that will make us think of her. I think Hermione would have rather you read Hogwarts: A History than tried to buy her house and keep it as some sort of museum."
Ron nodded, but it was clear he didn't really agree.
"Come on," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly's invited Mr. and Mrs. Granger for dinner…Harry you must stay too of course."
The group got up, moving away from the house reluctantly.
"What will happen now?" asked Ginny.
"Uh," said Ron, "T-the bank keeps possession until the house is sold officially in the New Year…then the house becomes the legal property of the buyer."
"Maybe you could find out who bought it," said George hopefully. "You and Bill work at the bank…"
"C'mon, we can't punish someone because they bought the house of a person they never knew," said Bill as they trampled through the snow to the Apparition point. Harry's insides squirmed.
"You know…I don't think I can make dinner after all," he said.
Ginny scrutinized him, clearly deciding he looked a bit peaky. "Of course," she said. "Today's been tough on everyone."
Harry thanked her and said goodbye to everyone (not quite able to look the Grangers in the eye) and left.
Thanks for reading, I'd love a review!