Chapter 16: The Weasley Inquisition
News of the engagement of Harry Potter to Ginny Weasley spread like wildfire about the castle. Monday morning had barely arrived and already there were reporters at the castle gates and swarming all over Hogsmeade, begging to be let in to try and get a statement regarding the rumors for that evening's Prophet. Harry and Ginny both received cauldrons-full of Howlers: Harry's berating him for choosing a red-head, and couldn't he see that "Brunettes were obviously better?" and Ginny's giving her an earful about taking Britain's most eligible bachelor (next to the Muggle Prince William) off the market.
Harry merely laughed as they exploded for the entire hall to hear and leaned over to give his new fiancé a peck on the cheek.
"Sorry, Gin," he apologized, "I guess the worst thing about me is that I'm not exactly the best person to be with if you want a private life!"
Ginny smiled, and muttered airily about how her biggest concern was having to get her stationary changed to say "Ginevra Molly Potter" at the top, which made Ron laugh even harder.
"Ginny Potter? Oh, that's rich."
Ginny looked him directly in the eye, and sniffed, "Now Ron, you know I've no idea how much money Harry's got."
Ron snorted into his tea. "Great Merlin, Gin! Haven't you been reading Witch Weekly's monthly 'Potter Pandemonium' updates? They reported his estimated worth right after Sirius was cleared and Harry became his official heir."
Now it was Ginny's turn to snort her tea. "Come on, Ron. I haven't read that rag since they spread those lies about Harry and Hermione back during the Tri-Wizard tournament."
"Really, Gin?" asked Hermione, looking pleased to have such a loyal best girl friend.
"Of course!" she cried, and then muttered under her breath, "I didn't want to read anything mentioning Harry with any girl other than me!"
Breakfast was a cheery affair, and Harry couldn't believe how happy he was as the day wore on. Until, of course, the evening Prophet came at dinner with a screaming headline:
Potter Proposes!
By Special Correspondent, Rita Skeeter
Harry Potter, 16, has reportedly popped the ultimate question to Ginevra Weasley, 15, daughter of Ministry Official, Arthur--
Harry hadn't even finished the first sentence when Hermione "accidentally" spilled her evening tea over the cover, causing all the ink to run together.
"Oops!" she admonished. "How clumsy of me. I hope you weren't reading that, Harry."
Harry shook his head. "Nah. But, unfortunately for Gin and me, I don't think there's enough tea in the world to ruin all the copies."
The next two weeks until Christmas Holiday were the same as any other fortnight to Harry; if you took out the screaming Howlers he received every morning at breakfast. He had taken to incinerating every red envelope that landed in front of him and Ginny, wandlessly, to keep his skills in tact. The last morning of classes, however, Harry received a different sort of mail. A letter from Madam Malkin arrived with a largely conspicuous package that Harry hastily shoved under the table, and also a smaller box with a thank you note from Miss Amanda. Smiling to himself, Harry kissed Ginny on the cheek and called Sanguine to him. In a flash of brilliant fire, the Phoenix appeared, grabbed both packages, and was gone.
Classes that day went by surprisingly fast, and before Harry knew it he was in Dumbledore's office, waiting for Ginny, Hermione and Ron to arrive so they could take a Port Key to the burrow. Ron arrived not long after, levitating his trunk in front of him, Pigwidgeon zooming around his head.
"Ready to face the twins, mate?" he grinned.
Harry simply shrugged, as if implying that the thought had never crossed his mind.
Ron laughed. "Oh, Harry, you have no idea what you're in for. I can just hear their wands humming right now."
Hermione and Ginny came running up the stairs, breathlessly, only five minutes before their departure time. Dumbledore entered through the fireplace just as they closed the door, and nodded at the girls.
"Ah, Miss Weasley, Miss Granger, I trust Madam Pince pointed in the right direction?"
Hermione nodded vigorously as Ginny shoved a book into her school bag.
"Excellent!" smiled Dumbledore. "Well, Miss Granger, here you are," he added, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two small Muggle playing cards. "They work just as we discussed, but don't hesitate to send me an owl for clarification."
Hermione nodded, and gave Ginny a wink that sent them both into fits of giggles. Harry and Ron just watched amusedly and gave each other a look that plainly said "women…." Dumbledore grabbed an old teakettle from his desk, tapped it with his wand, and handed it to Ron. Harry, Hermione and Ginny all put a finger on it and soon they were on top of a swirling wind that would land them right into the kitchen of The Burrow.
After dragging their trunks to their rooms, everyone made their way back down to the kitchen so Ginny, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Fleur (who was also staying for the Holiday) could admire Ginny's ring together. Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry repeatedly, saying tearfully how she "couldn't have asked for a better son-in-law", and was glad that if her "baby Gin-Gin" had to be the first to marry that it was to such a "nice, handsome boy" like Harry.
Harry endured all this with Ron making faces at him in the background, and then they went off together to have a game at chess. Ron was willing to practice even with Harry so he would have a chance to best Malfoy when they returned from Holiday.
"I STILL can't believe the Ferret beat me!" Ron groaned, as he set up the board.
"Well," said Harry, attempting to console him, "he was really good. And it wasn't really fair with Ginny flashing her ring around and all, distracting you."
"You're telling me," muttered Ron. "You had to get one so big, didn't you?"
Harry smiled, and nodded. "What can I say, Ron? It called to me. I'm sure you'll say the same thing when you buy one… Pawn to E3."
"No way!" shrieked Ron. "Hermione's already got enough crazy ideas in her head about YOUR wedding. Knight to H3. I don't even want to THINK what she would be like if WE got married."
Dinner was a full affair, what with Hermione, Harry and Fleur all staying as guests. Harry was amazed- Ron was having no trouble keeping his head around the half-veela. The only conspicuous absence was Charlie- he was still in Romania.
"So what made you decide to stay in England for Christmas, Fleur?" asked Harry conversationally, attempting to get around what was the first awkward silence he had ever heard at the Weasley dinner table.
"Oh, eet was Bill!" Fleur tweaked the eldest Weasley boy's nose affectionately. "'e eez so vary sweet! 'e knew it vood be very 'ard for me to travel all zee way to France, and steel work at Greengots zo 'e eenvited me to 'ave an Eenglish Chreestmas."
Harry grinned. He was glad to see Fleur and Bill getting on so well. He knew that she had started working at Gringotts with the specific intention of getting to know the eldest Weasley in mind- but Harry knew better. Once you were in with the Weasleys, there was no getting out. It appeared that all her Veela charms aside, Bill certainly had Fleur's heart; hook, line and sinker.
Mrs. Weasley and the girls had just adjourned to the kitchen to bring out the desert trays, when Harry noticed an owl tapping at the window. Excusing himself, Harry opened it and the owl swooped in. Shaking the snow off its feathers it dropped an envelope on Harry's head and immediately took off again back into the night.
Carefully plucking the letter from his hair, Harry groaned. It was another Howler- and this one would be right in front of his future in-laws. Groaning, he apologized to the men still sitting around the table, and in his haste to make amends the envelope burst open and began shrieking at the top of its non-existent lungs.
POTTER!
SO, YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD STEAL OUR BABY SISTER AWAY, DID YOU? DIDN'T EVEN STOP AT DIAGON ALLEY TO ASK OUR PERMISSION, DID YOU? WELL FINE! WE HOPE YOU REALIZE THAT YOU NOW HAVE THE WRATH OF WEASLEYS WIZARD WHEEZES ON YOUR ARSE, AND ITS NOT GOING TO BE PRETTY! … NOT THAT WE WERE LOOKING AT YOUR BUM, BUT OUR CLIENTELE INFORMS US IT'S QUITE NICE…
FRED, GET TO THE POINT!
SORRY, GEORGE.
YOU BETTER WATCH IT, POTTER! YOU WANT TO BE A WEASLEY, EH? WELL IT TAKES A LOT MORE THAN A PRETTY ROCK TO GET INTO OUR FAMILY! BY THE WAY- HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND ON THAT DIAMOND? HALF OF GRINGOTTS? YOU IDIOT!
GEORGE- STOP MESSING AROUND!
SORRY, FRED.
YOU'RE GOING TO RUE THE DAY YOU EVER SET EYES ON OUR SISTER!
There was a loud POP, and the Howler burst into flames. The twins ran out of the room in a fit of laughter, and Harry saw that having a good laugh wasn't the only reason they had excused themselves so abruptly- Mr. Weasley was looking murderous. But Harry's night wasn't over yet: At the window was another owl. Fred and George peeked their heads around the doorframe, and then retreated once more, laughing hysterically in the next room.
SO, POTTER, screamed the amplified voice of Charlie Weasley,
ONE GO-ROUND WITH THE HUNGARIAN HORNTAIL WASN'T ENOUGH FOR YOU? I'LL BE BRINGING ONE HOME WITH ME FOR THE NEW YEAR—AND I BET YOU WON'T BE AS LUCKY ABOUT IT THIS TIME! YOU'LL LOOK AT THE OLD ONE FROM YOUR FOURTH YEAR LIKE IT'S A PRETTY-SMELLING SNAP DRAGON AFTER MAHFOOZE GETS AHOLD OF YOU!
YOU HAD BETTER THANK YOUR LUCKY BROOMSTICKS THAT I'M STILL IN ROMANIA… OR MARK MY WORDS; THEY WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO FIND A BODY TO BURY AFTER MY DRAGONS WERE DONE CREMATING YOU!
Harry groaned- another owl was making its way through the window. He was sure Bill's howler would be next. His suspicions were confirmed when the eldest Weasley gave him a rather punishing look from across the table.
YOU KNOW, MY BROTHERS USED TO CALL ME "BILL-THE-CURSE-BREAKER", BUT I THINK THAT'S ALL ABOUT TO CHANGE. JUST WAIT TIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU LITTLE TWERP, AND MY NAME WILL BE CHANGED TO "BILL-THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED-BREAKER"!
I SAVED SOME SPECIAL CURSES JUST FOR THIS DAY. RESERVED SPECIFICALLY FOR THE BASTARD THAT WOULD TRY AND TAKE GINNY AWAY—AND BOY, AM I HAPPY I GET TO USE THEM ON SOMEONE LIKE YOU!
YOU MESSED WITH THE WRONG CURSE-BREAKER, POTTER. YOU WON'T RECOGNIZE YOURSELF WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU!
Bill gave one last murderous look at Harry, and roughly excused himself from the table to join the twins in the living room. If Harry didn't know better he could have sworn that Bill was trying to keep a straight face through the length of his own Howler. Breathing deeply, Harry mentally counted in his head: Bill, Charlie, the twins… That left Ron, Percy and Mr. Weasley- but Harry didn't think he'd be getting any letters from them. Not with Percy still ostracized from his family, Ron being his best mate, and Mr. Weasley having already given him his blessing.
But sure enough- there came yet another owl, bearing a red envelop. A quick glance to his best mate, the last Weasley son remaining at the table left Harry bemused- Ron was staring stonily at the wall with his arms crossed- in the optimistic Harry's opinion Ron surely must have been disgusted by his brothers, but whether Ron was turning his back on his family or his best friend, the practical Harry really didn't know.
I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D GET OFF EASY WITH ME, YOU BACK-STABBING TRAITOR! BEST MATES WITH ME FOR NEARLY SIX YEARS, AND I'D BET MY BROOMSTICK THAT THE ONLY REASON YOU STUCK AROUND FOR SO LONG WAS SO YOU COULD GET YOUR MITTS ON MY BABY SISTER.
YOU'D BETTER COUNT YOUR LUCKY STARS THAT YOU DIDN'T DECIDE TO FALL IN LOVE WITH HERMIONE, OR YOU WOULDN'T BE ANYTHING MORE THAN A SCORCHED HEX MARK ON THE COMMON ROOM WALL.
YOU DO ANYTHING TO HURT GIN, AND I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS- VOLDEMORT NEED NOT BOTHER, I'LL DO HIS DIRTY WORK FOR HIM MYSELF.
The last Howler burst into flame, and then floated to the floor to join the large pile of ash already accumulated at Harry's feet.
"Ouch, mate. That one kind of hurt," Harry commented dramatically clutching his chest.
Ron grinned, and shrugged. "Well, mate, I wouldn't KILL you, but I would mess you up something awful."
Harry smiled, and pounded his fist into his other hand. "Beat me to a pulp, right mate?"
Ron nodded. "You can bet on it. A promise is a promise, after all."
Harry grinned, and the other boys came trooping back into the room.
"Don't think we're going to forgive you that easily, Harry," warned George.
"Yeah, Potter, we're not through with you yet!" added Fred.
"I never thought you were," Harry grinned.
Harry turned to Bill, but noticed that he wasn't looking back. The girls were returning from the kitchen, acting as if they had heard nothing (even though Harry knew this to be quite impossible- anyone that hadn't heard Charlie's howler from a mile away must be deaf). They watched as Bill moved to close the window, but before he could fasten the latch a last, lonely owl landed softly on its sill, before hooting snootily and flying off into the moonlight.
"Here, Harry," said Bill, passing Harry a creamy white envelope and shrugging his shoulders. "It's got your name on."
Harry looked around at all the faces- but every one appeared to be just as confused as he was. Slitting the seal carefully with his finger, Harry pulled out a single sheet of parchment and quickly scanned to the bottom to see who had written it.
"It's from Percy," he said, quietly.
"Oh, Percy!" cried Mrs. Weasley happily. "He must be writing to offer his congratulations! Not like the rest of my practical joking sons- Percy was always a sweetheart. Read it aloud for us, won't you Harry, dear?"
Harry smiled sadly, and glanced to Ron. The last letter Percy had written had been to Ron about Harry, and it hadn't been kindly. Ron shrugged, and seemed to say, "If it's what mum wants." Harry cleared his throat and began to read aloud the letter from the final Weasley brother.
Dear Mr. Potter,
It has come to my attention (through the Minister of Magic, no less) that if I were to look through my mail I might find something of interest. I returned from overseas this evening and, much to my surprise (and disdain) I came across a Daily Prophet from two weeks previous with a headline I found most disturbing. As pleased as the rest of my family might be, you are much to young to be marrying, especially to someone equally as young, and most importantly, someone that happens to be MY youngest sister. As foolish as you are to have done this, one would hope that you would not be so imprudent as to think that I have quilled this letter to offer my congratulations. It is quite the contrary.
It is to my great displeasure that you have forced me into this position, but I have come to the conclusion that I have no other choice. With my contacts here at the Ministry I have suspended all your travel possibilities, indefinitely. You will not be able to leave the grounds of Hogwarts without my knowing it.
Rest assured, Harry, knowing that I will find you and when I do, I hope that you have been preparing for a fight. I would be telling a rather large untruth to say that I thought you were smarter than this, for I know you are not. If you had any common sense you would stay away from Ginevra, and the rest of the family. If you cannot see the danger you put them in by "legally binding" them to the likes of Albus Dumbledore, then I must confess that I see no hope for you in keeping the Ministry on your side. Yes, Harry, the Ministry WAS on your side.
Know this, Mr. Potter, and let it be your first and final warning: The Dark Lord will find you- but not before I do.
Cordially,
Percival S. Weasley
Hermione, who had been reading over his shoulder, whispered in his ear, "Only Death Eaters call him Dark Lord, Harry."
Harry nodded grimly, and passed the letter to Mr. Weasley, to do with as he wished. Looking around the kitchen, he saw many horror-struck faces.
Ginny snorted. "His 'youngest' sister? Please… as if he had to specify. And if he DOES ever meet us, he's going to get a firm hex straight in the arse for calling me Ginevra."
Bill let out a low whistle, while Fred and George read the letter over themselves, as if they had to see it to believe it.
Ron shook his head, and said simply, "Sorry, mate. He always was the world's biggest git."
"Yeah," agreed Bill, running a hand through his hair, "I mean- I thought our howlers were bad- but at least we were only joking."
Harry shrugged, but shared a significant glance with Hermione about the last line of Percy's letter.
"Zat was Peer-seey?" spat Fleur, her normally milky features gone crimson with rage. "You never told me 'e was zo… ee-vil, Bill. Oh, 'Arry, I am zo sorr-ey 'e sent zat letter. I am vahry 'appy for you and Gin-ee. You will make soch a lohfley couple, and you shood not care what zis "Peer-seey" eediot says of you."
"Well," said Mrs. Weasley brightly as if Fleur had settled the matter, though Harry could see her eyes shining with fiery tears, "who wants cake?"
A silent raising of everyone's hands went up around the room, and Mrs. Weasley stalked determinedly to the table and began dishing out pieces of dessert. No one spoke a single word, but when she handed Harry the last piece of cake, it was the largest of all. Smiling tearfully, she whispered vehemently,
"No one messes with my son-in-law."