Again, I own none of it! JKR is my queen, I merely pay homage to her with my scratchings – CQ
Chapter Two: Weasley Family Expansion
Molly was nowhere to be found when they returned to Potter Manor after a leisurely late lunch in a private dining room that Tom had led them to. After eating, they had set several privacy charms and spent some much needed time alone. They'd been gone over six hours when they finally flooed back through to the lounge of Potter Manor, to find everything quiet and seemingly deserted.
"Where is everyone?" Ginny asked, putting the bags she carried down on a sofa and walking through to the kitchen, only to find two houseelves scurrying about in a blind panic.
"Dobby?" Harry looked around. "What on earth is going on?"
"Oh, Harry Potter, sir! Miss Wheezy! Dobby is very excited!"
"Over what, Dobby?"
"Over...?" Dobby looked up at them oddly. "You mean, Miss Wheezy doesn't know?"
"We've been out all day, Dobby. What's happened?"
"There is to be a new baby, Harry Potter sir! A new wizard baby!"
"A new...?" Harry glanced around. "What? When?"
"Miss Fleur," Dobby swallowed, uncertain of what Harry's reaction meant. "Miss Fleur is having a baby. Now."
"Now?" Harry's eyes widened. "Here?"
"No, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby looked at him strangely. "Not here."
Harry relaxed. "Well, good..."
"Where?" Ginny asked.
"Upstairs, Miss Wheezy!" Dobby grinned happily. "In her and Mr Bill's room!"
With this, Dobby popped out of existence, carrying away a pile of towels that Harry could only speculate on the need for.
"Here?" Harry sat down heavily. "She can't have a baby here!"
"Why not?" Ginny looked at him.
"What do you mean, why not? She's... this is a house!"
"So where would you like her to deliver?" Ginny asked, confused. "The stables?"
"No! She... babies are born in hospitals, Ginny. Why didn't someone get her to the hospital?"
"What?" Ginny laughed. "Don't be silly, Harry. Hospitals are for sick people... injured people. They're not for babies!"
"Ginny," Harry started, then paused. What experience did he have of babies? Only... well, there was the next door neighbor on Privet Drive. She'd gone to hospital for three days and come home with a little bundle in a pink blanket that Aunt Petunia had cooed over before coming home and saying it was ugly, and not nearly so healthy-looking as her Diddidums had been.
Then there was Aunt Petunia's bridge club partner. She'd definitely gone to hospital. Harry could remember waiting in the car in the parking lot while Aunt Petunia visited her.
"But... muggle babies are born in hospitals."
"You... you're kidding?" Ginny siad. "Really?"
"Yes. At least any time I've heard..."
"Oh, Harry! That is so sad!"
"Sad?"
"Why... they're not at home, where they'll be loved and cared for..." Ginny's eyes clouded.
"What?" Harry looked at her suspiciously as she trailed off, apparently distracted by a thought.
"I don't think that muggles love their children in the same way that wizard families do," Ginny admitted quietly, looking down at her hands sadly.
"Why?"
"Well..." Ginny looked concerned. "How could they, Harry? Hospitals are for sick people. Can you imagine your first impression of the world being a hospital?"
Harry thought on that for a moment. "I think that some muggle babies need to be born in the hospital, Ginny. Some babies are born sick."
"But the medi-witch..."
"Nurse."
"What?"
"They're called nurses, Ginny. And sometimes, well... sometimes a baby would die if it weren't born in the hospital. Sometimes the mother, too, I think."
"Oh," Ginny was suddenly looking much more worried. "Harry, you don't think that Fleur...?"
"I'm sure that she'll be fine," Harry said, pulling her back into the lounge and down beside him on a sofa, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly. Ginny nestled in, resting her cheek on his shoulder, and sighed.
"You're sure?"
"Your mum is with her, right?"
"Right."
"How could she not be okay, then?"
An hour later, they made tea and were just pouring out when the floo flared and George, Fred, Charlie and Arthur came through.
"Ah, you're back," Arthur smiled as he collapsed in one of the deep armchairs.
"An hour ago," Ginny said. "Where have you lot been?"
"Tried to get Bill to go for a pint, but he wouldn't leave," explained Charlie.
"So we went without him," Fred grinned.
"We must have just missed you at the Leaky Cauldron," Arthur said, taking the cup of tea that Ginny handed him before settling back into his chair. Harry noticed the older man's ears were rather pink, but couldn't decide if it was the few pints he'd indulged in, or the suspicious "missing" of Harry and Ginny when they'd been in the same establishment for what must have been several hours.
George snorted as he stuck his nose into the tea Ginny had handed him.
"Oi... you..." Ginny glared at him. "It was Harry who put you lot to bed last night and made sure that Dobby brought you some of his special tea. I'd watch what I was about if I were you."
The twins just grinned as Molly bustled into the room, six sets of eyes immediately shifting to her.
"Well?" Arthur asked her.
"Not long," she nodded absently, a smile for her other children. Her eyes zeroed in on Harry and Ginny, and her smile seemed rather relieved. "Oh, you're back. Nice day, then?"
"Lovely. How is Fleur?" Ginny asked.
"She's fine, love. Regular trooper. Poppy says she'll deliver within the hour. I just came down for tea. Poppy could use a cup and Merlin knows that Bill needs a distraction..."
Charlie snorted, but covered it with a cough as Molly glared at him. Ginny quickly put together a tray and Molly disappeared with it.
"Another hour of this?" Harry asked as she left, surprised when Arthur laughed.
"Harry, it's childbirth. It could be another six hours."
This silenced everyone in the room quite effectively.
In the end, Pascal Weasley presented himself forty seven minutes later with a lusty wail. Bill came running downstairs, shouting with joy to announce that he had a son before racing back up again.
Arthur stood and sighed, clearing away his tea things.
"Dad?" Ginny looked at him. "What's wrong?"
"I lost my bet."
"What?"
"I bet your mother a knut it was a girl."
"Rather long odds on that wager, Dad." Fred laughed. "I'm rather wondering why you bothered?"
"Oh, your mother and I always bet. It's a bit of a tradition. After Bill and Charlie, I always rather thought the odds must be with me... so after that, I'd say it was a girl, convinced that we'd get one sooner or later..."
"So you've only won once then?" Ginny smirked.
"No," Arthur sighed resignedly a second time. "After six boys, and after losing every time to your mother, I said you'd be a boy. Lost that one, as well."
Three days later, Ron and Hermione returned from their short honeymoon to find the entire famly, plus a few others, in residence at Potter Manor, and a new addition to the family being welcomed.
"Oh, isn't he lovely?" Hermione gushed as she leaned over Fleur holding tiny Pascal.
"Here," Fleur patted the sofa next to her. "You must hold him."
"Oh... I..."
"Come, he is light, and not so fragile as he appears," Fleur reassured her confidently.
Hermione sat and took the tiny bundle from her new sister-in-law. "Oh, Fleur..."
"Is he not precious? Is he not perfect?" Fleur whispered softly, her eyes never leaving the wide blue eyes of her son.
"He's... enchanting," Hermione glanced up at Ron, tears in her eyes.
Molly entered with a tray of tea cups and nearly dropped them when she saw Hermione with the baby in her arms.
"That suits you, Hermione," she said softly, placing the tray down and smilling at Ron's wife.
As everyone took cups and returned to their seats or standing, Ron smiled at her. Harry noticed the barely perceptible nod she gave him, but everyone noticed the pinkness of her cheeks.
"Yeah, Hermie... when are you and Ron going to get on that?" Fred asked with a grin.
"Actually, Fred..." Ron swallowed. "Hermione and I would like to talk to you all about something..."
Everyone in the room stilled.
"She's not thrown you out already, then?" George looked askance at his brother. "Bloody smart witch, she is. Told her she'd do better with me. What'd you do, Ron?"
"No, she hasn't thrown me out!" Ron glared at his brother. "We're having a baby. Hermione's pregnant."
Pandemonium. Charlie and Bill jumped up to hug their brother, George began to laugh, and Fred spit his tea out, spraying Tonks in the process.
The admittedly short-tempered auror turned on him and hexed him with a pig's snout before casting a cleansing charm on her robes. Remus, smiling apologetically, reversed the hex and Fred immediately began to ask Tonks about it, thinking he could incorporate it into their newest line of charmed sweets.
Molly and Arthur stood back and watched their brood, Arthur with a happy smile on his face, Molly casting worried looks at Ginny.
"Molly, relax," Arthur said in an undertone, sensing his wife's tension.
"Arthur..."
"Relax."
"But, Harry's been spending so much money on her... all those new clothes..."
"Let her enjoy it, Molly. If he wants to spoil her a little, let him. He loves her."
"She's saying she doesn't want to go back to school, Arthur!"
"Then she can take her NEWTs from home, Molly. You know that she can."
"I..."
"You did," he pointed out.
"No one is to know that, Arthur Weasley!"
"Why not?"
"Because... because..."
"Has your life turned out so terribly, Molly? Are you disappointed in what we've built together? Was having Bill so young a bad thing?"
"Of course not, Arthur! But..."
"What?"
"It's been such a struggle at times, " she said quietly. "I want more for them."
"Molly..."
"I wouldn't trade it, Arthur. Not for the world. Not for all the gold in Gringotts."
"Then why expect them to?"
"She's so young..."
"And they've been through more than we can imagine, Molly. You can't expect her to forget everything they've done this past year and suddenly act sixteen again, love."
"What they've done this year is what worries me."
"What's done is done, love. I have faith in them. Harry doesn't do anything lightly."
"No. It's just that they're so very young..."
"Only in years, Molly. Only in years."
"Harry? Can we talk?" Ron stuck his head around the door of the study where Harry was sitting on the sofa, his feet propped on the coffee table, reading a copy of Which Broom?
"Sure, Ron. What is it?" Harry laid the magazine down and looked up at his friend. Ron looked... strange. Nervous.
"I need to talk to you."
"So you said," Harry sat up, his feet hitting the floor. "Something is wrong. What is it?"
"Harry, my life changed drastically last week." Ron sighed, sitting down on the sofa opposite, his elbows braced against his knees as he looked down at the floor between his feet.
Harry grinned. "Don't I know it?"
"I... Hermione and I are married now. I need to make some plans."
Harry nodded. "I know. We all do, I think."
"I can't go back to Hogwarts now, Harry. Neither can Hermione... we have a baby on the way, and I need a job. But I haven't taken any NEWTs..."
"Ron?"
"What we did this last year was... necessary. I know that, but..."
"But it really messed up a lot of life plans. I know."
"I need to take some sort of training. I need to be able to support Hermione and the baby. She says she'll work too, she wants to... but... well, I need to support them, but I can't afford to do that and get some better training right now..."
"What do you need?"
""I..." Ron flushed. "Bloody hell, this is hard."
"Ron?"
"You know I wouldn't be asking... you know I don't... I don't like to ask, but this isn't for me, Harry. It's for Hermione and the baby, and... and..." Ron looked up at him, his eyes brooding.
"Ron, we're friends. We've stuck together through most things for the past seven years. I'd happily go hell for you. I owe you more than I can ever repay for this past year. What do you need, Ron?"
"I need a loan, Harry," Ron said in a quiet voice after a moment's hesitation, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I need a way to support Hermione and the baby until I can get some training and get a proper job. And I don't even know what that is yet. I need your help. Financially."
"You've got it," Harry shrugged. "Look, I know that the wizarding world is in their happy place right now. Voldemort is dead, everyone is happy and relieved, thinking that the world is safe again. But the fact is, there are still death eaters out there. The fact is, we're not done, Ron."
"So, where do we go from here? And how do we earn a living doing it?"
"Snape and Malfoy are still out there, and dozens more. The aurors... well, there are a lot of good ones, and I'd probably consider it if..."
"If the Ministry weren't running things."
"Right. The fact that Scrimgeour..."
"Don't go there, Harry," Ron said in a low, angry voice. Percy had died because of the current Minister of Magic, and Scrimgeour wasn't anyone's favorite because of it.
"Well, the fact is, I don't care to have Scrimgeour telling me how to go about doing this. What I have to do. So the only alternative is..."
"The Order," Ron said with a sad smile. "That doesn't help me, mate. I know that Dumbledore arranged for a small stipend for Order members, but I can't support my family on it."
"What if we...?"
"What?"
"I can't do it without you, Ron."
"Harry..."
"I'm willing to talk to your Dad about arranging a more... appropriate amount for those who are devoting more than their spare time to it."
"You..."
"You, Remus, Bill, Charlie. Hermione is going to be busy for a few months, but..."
"Harry, you don't have to..."
"Ron, until they're all dealt with, I can't have a life. I can't do anything about moving on. I can't..." he hesitated.
"Marry my sister?"
Harry flushed. "Your mum wouldn't allow it, in any case."
"Are you joking? Mum would die a thousand deaths for you to really be part of this family. She'd be thrilled to bits that you chose Ginny."
"She thinks we're too young, Ron."
"She let Mione and I..."
"The circumstances were a bit different there, mate."
"Well, you know what to do," Ron smirked.
"What?"
"Knock her up," Ron shrugged.
"Ginny's not ready for that," Harry said shortly.
"Ginny's been ready to be Mrs Potter for more than a year, Harry."
"She needs to get her NEWTs. Look where we are because we don't have them."
"Granted. But there are other ways to get your NEWT qualifications without going to Hogwarts."
"What?"
"Mum did," Ron shrugged, slouching back against the leather upholstery of the short couch, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.
"What are you talking about?"
Ron snorted. "She thinks none of us know, but all you have to do is do the math."
"What?"
"Bill is ten years older than me, right?"
"Right."
"And I was eighteen in March, right?"
"Right."
"That makes Bill twenty eight. He was twenty eight last September."
"Okay?" Harry still wasn't sure where Ron was going with this. What did this have to do with Molly not doing her NEWTs at Hogwarts?
"Mum is only forty five, and her birthday is in April."
"So?"
"So, like me, she would have been eighteen when she graduated."
"So?"
"So, when she turned eighteen, Bill was already seven months old. Bill was born in the September of what would have been Mum's seventh year."
"I..."
"Mum didn't finish school at Hogwarts," Ron continued. "But I know that she has her NEWTs. Therefore, she got them some other way."
"How did you figure all this out?"
"I've known for years that she wasn't in school when Bill was born... and that she was seventeen when he was born. But I only started really thinking about it when... well, Hermione has been pretty upset about not being able to write her NEWTs..."
"So you can write the tests without having been to the classes?"
"Why not? Hermione wrote OWLs in classes she'd never attended."
"True."
"So why not the NEWTs? I don't think that it's something they advertise, but I can't see them saying no. Especially McGonagall. Especially for us."
"Us?"
"Come on, Harry. You defeated Voldemort. We were with you. We might as well get some recognition for that."
"I get enough recognition, thanks," Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.
"I mean, something useful. They can keep all their bloody awards and medals. Frankly, I don't know why they think they have the right to "award" us anything, considering the fact that they don't know fuck-all about what it was like. I'd much rather have the congratulations from someone like Kingsley, or Moody, who have some idea of what we did, than anything from that prig Scrimgeour. Auror my ass... I doubt the old bastard has every had to deal with anything more vicious than a Gillypuff..."
"Ron..."
"Harry?"
"I'll speak to McGonagall," Harry sighed.
"Harry, are you sure?"
"About speaking to McGonagall?"
"No, about talking to Dad? I mean..."
"Ron, I want you in the Order. I need your help."
"Okay."
"Ron, there is something else."
"What?"
"I... with the whole family here, you and Mione aren't going to have much by way of privacy."
"Privacy?" Ron laughed. "Harry, we've got three bloody bedrooms, two loos, and a lounge the size of the Gryffindor common room. We're..."
"I'd be willing to have a house built for you," Harry interrupted. "Here, on the grounds."
"No," Ron shook his head. "No, Harry. Thank you, but it's not necessary."
"Ron..."
"What is it, Potter, are you getting sick of all of us Weasley's underfoot?"
"Don't be daft," Harry laughed. "I love it, and you know it."
"Hermione and I are fine with the suite, Harry. It's more than enough. More than we can possibly thank you for."
"I don't want your thanks. I want Hermione and the baby safe... and happy. I want you beside me when we find Snape and Malfoy and kick their sorry arses from here to Durmstrang."
"I'll be there, Harry."
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
Harry leaned back, closing his eyes. "When this is all over..."
"Yeah?"
"I want to rebuild the Burrow. For your Mum. It's important."
"Agreed, mate. Once this is over. We'll do it together, right?"
"Good," Harry straightened quickly, stood and headed towards the door. "I'll go find your dad. We need to talk."
"Ginny?" Ron grinned.
"No. The Order. Anything I have to say to your dad about Ginny will have to wait."
"Don't wait too long, mate," Ron said as he, too, stood, and followed Harry from the room. "She's not exactly the patient sort."
"You stupid... do you have any idea of what you have done?"
The younger man merely glared at the tall, thin, pale man pacing in front of him, his black robes billowing out every time he made a quick turn, which was often as the room they were in was small.
"You were seen. Do you understand that? Seen!"
"Oh, give it a rest, Severus," the younger man stood, moving to the sideboard where he refilled his glass from the decanter sitting there. Funny, Snape was supposedly one of The Dark Lords most faithful followers...
"Tell me, Sev," Draco lifted the decanter to the dim light of the single lamp, swishing it about, enjoying how the light played on the amber liquid inside. "Why the most faithful of the Dark Lord's servants would allow muggle brandy to be kept in his home?"
"Shut up! You know nothing, you annoying little bastard! I should have killed you when I had the chance. When I think of how many times your ineptitude in my class would have gotten you blown up but for my interference..."
Draco glared at his former potions master. "You didn't take advantage of your supposed many opportunities, Professor, because of that little promise you made my mother. Don't you remember?"
"I remember. The bane of my existence continues to defy reason and live because of a stupid promise, made to a woman who continues to play the game, even when there is no longer any hope of her winning. The Dark Lord..."
"Is dead, in case you hadn't noticed," Draco spat, pouring himself yet another drink.
"Yes, that has been said before. In case you hadn't noticed, we were wrong," Snape moved over to where Draco stood. He had returned the decanter to it's place and was now watching, swirling the liquid in the heavy crystal glass. Snatching it from him, he placed it on the sideboard and glared at his former student, now, in some strange way, his charge. "You're well on your way to being inebriated. I suggest that you go and sleep it off while I... fix... this mess you've created."
"Mess?"
"You were seen, Draco. Probably followed. More than once. Do you not understand that?"
"I understand that the Dark Lord is dead, Severus... I understand the politics involved in what is going to be a swift jockeying for position in the next months. I understand where you think that you are in the grand scheme of things, just because you say you never turned on him, that you continued on with your assignment, and you say you never believed he was truly gone. I understand that, for some reason, you made a promise to my mother, a promise that would make her to be indebted to you in future. I understand that my aunt, who always suspected you of being a traitor, was convinced by that same act of your loyalty to the Dark Lord. I understand that, in killing Dumbledore, you have cemented your position. I understand that nothing you have done has been done before being thoroughly thought out."
"Good. Perhaps you understand then that it is up to me whether you live or die, and you'd best begin following orders, before I tire of my role in your life. Or your role in mine, as the case may be," Snape said bitterly.
"I also understand," Draco sneered as he picked up the glass that Snape had removed from his hand a moment before, and sauntered towards the doorway draining it as he went, "that it takes more than deeds to create the illusion of power, Severus. Much more. Showing fear by cowering in the dank dungeons of a seemingly abandoned ruin makes you look like nothing more than a... rat."
"You..."
"However, boldly showing yourself in public... well, that speaks for itself, doesn't it?"
With a smile, Draco dropped the expensive crystal glass to the stone floor where it shattered on impact. With a cold look at his host, he turned, and walked away towards his rooms.
No review responsese this time, my friends, although I appreciate the positive response to my return! I'm off for a happy week at a spa... laying about in the mineral baths, having daily massages. I'll be thinking of you all as I enjoy being pampered... Really, I will! I'll be back next Monday with an update -- maybe sooner if the spa has wireless. I'm taking my laptop with me!
CQ