Chapter Five

Freed

Harry, Owen and Ethan were brought directly to the Ministry from the safe house two days after Harry's meeting with Vivian Scott. Harry wasn't certain what caused the delay, but he was more concerned that he hadn't had a proper shower before their Portkey brought them directly to a meeting room in Auror headquarters. He'd assumed he'd be allowed to go home first, and he was quite disgruntled by it. He wanted to go home, put on his own clothes, and spend some time with Ginny. Was that really so much to ask? He knew this case was important, but what use would he be so discombobulated that he couldn't think straight?

He was even more dismayed by the number of people crammed into the conference room, and he tried to discreetly sniff at his underarms to be certain he didn't smell as bad as he felt. The three detainees hadn't even had a chance to talk and compare stories of their detainment before a Portkey had been stuffed into their hands and swept them away from the safe house.

Ethan looked just as scruffy as Harry felt, though without the purple bruising beneath his eyes. Apparently, he hadn't had the same trouble sleeping that Harry had endured. His eyes were open wide and round as he stared around the room, and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if he was counting the number of people it contained. The one bonus was that he appeared so overwhelmed, he was blessedly quiet for once. Owen looked tired and cranky, although with his thick beard, his lack of a decent shave wasn't as readily apparent. His eyes scanned the crowded meeting room with the same apprehension Harry felt, although he, too, was oddly silent.

The long, oval table was populated with several department heads as well as a scattering of other personnel. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat at one end, appearing regal and alert as he conferred with Vivian Scott, who was seated to his left. On his other side was Percy Weasley, shuffling a massive sheaf of parchment in front of him. Next to him sat Arthur Weasley, who smiled gently at Harry as those all-too-knowing eyes took in his appearance. Mr. Weasley had been promoted to the Head of International Magical Cooperation after Kingsley took over, and all Muggle-related matters fell under his lead.

Gawain Robards sat in the chair beside Vivian, looking grim and alert as ever. Ron was next to him, appearing strangely subdued. Harry wondered if Ron had been told off for storming into the safe house. He raised his eyebrows slightly as his oldest friend, but Ron gave a slight shake of his head, indicating he'd talk to him later. Harry really hoped he hadn't ended up in trouble. Ron and Ginny's appearance had been the highlight of a very stressful few days. If being trapped in that safe house had reminded him of being confined in his cupboard, Ron and Ginny's visit had been like an old, nearly forgotten fantasy he'd always had of someone bursting into Privet Drive to take him away. He didn't know how to express that appreciation to Ron and Ginny, though.

Next to Ron sat Hermione and her boss, Amos Diggory, from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Their appearance was a mystery to Harry, as he didn't see how the investigation of this outbreak had anything to do with magical creatures. Perhaps Vivian had learned something new since she'd met with Harry… or perhaps she hadn't told him everything she knew. Knowing the Department of Mysteries, the second option was most likely. Hermione was eyeing Harry with concern, and he again wished he could've gone back to Grimmauld Place to speak with his friends first.

The chairs next to Mr. Weasley were filled by Royden Gray, who was the head of the Department for Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and one of his department members, Astoria Greengrass. Harry thought she looked rather uncomfortable seated with the many department heads.

Harry, Owen and Ethan took the three empty chairs at the end of the table opposite the Minister, and the door behind them closed on its own, sealing itself so they couldn't be overheard. Harry was relieved when a couple pots of tea and plates of biscuits appeared in the center of the table. He immediately poured himself a cup, and it felt wonderfully soothing slipping down his throat. Whoever made the tea in the safe house had been bollocks at it.

"I want to thank you all for clearing your schedules to meet here, and I apologize to our Aurors for the hastiness, but time is of the essence," Kingsley began in his deep, soothing voice. "I hope you are all feeling well after your isolation."

"I think we'd be better after a proper shower," Owen said rather grumpily, but then straightened after a stern look from Gawain Robards. "But, yes, we're all fine."

"I'm glad to hear it," Kingsley said, smiling slightly. "You're all free for the rest of the day once our meeting is concluded."

Harry perked up a bit at that.

"I think we'd all like to know what's going on," Amos Diggory said, keeping his eyes away from Harry. The two had clashed over an incident with the Giants several years ago, and Diggory tended to avoid contact with Harry ever since.

"I was approached by Vivian Scott from the Department of Mysteries," Kingsley said without preamble, nodding his head in Vivian's direction. "She alerted me to the potential of the spread of an unidentified illness amongst both the Muggle and magical communities. I'm going to let Unspeakable Scott fill you in on the details," the Minister said.

Vivian got to her feet, her gaze sweeping the room in the cool, clinical way she had. Many sets of eyes turned to her, their faces reflecting more curiosity than alarm. "The Department of Mysteries has been aware that, during the war, the Death Eaters were trying to develop various potions to cause mass casualties in the Muggle world. I was assigned to investigate if any of these potential hazards had, indeed, been attained or released anywhere in the Muggle world. I've been keeping careful track of various Muggle anomalies over an extended period of time."

Harry's eyebrows rose. She'd kept that quiet, but it explained why she was monitoring the situation of a Muggle illness in Wales.

"Coincidentally, Auror Savage's team is investigating a missing Potions Master, and our cases have crossed," Vivian continued, and Harry dragged his attention back to her, and trying to force his befuddled brain into submission. "After consultation, we believe our cases are connected, and the Potions Master in question was testing one of these Death Eater experiments. Unfortunately, there's been an accident, and we believe the result is a hazardous contagion diffused to the public."

"With all due respect to the Muggles, what does this have to do with the magical community?" Royden Gray asked, his brow furrowed.

"You mean aside from the fact that Muggles are yet again being victimized by magical means?" Hermione asked, frowning.

Gray pursed his lips, barely sparing Hermione a glance.

"I would've hoped we'd come far enough to be concerned by our effect on the Muggle world, but I'm sadly aware that it will not be enough to motivate some," Vivian said, and this time, the censure in her voice did cause color to suffuse Gray's face. "For those unenlightened few, I'm certain they'll be more interested to note that there is now a confirmation of cases that wizards are being affected."

Harry's head shot up. This was news to him. A ripple went around the table, and all were now looking at Vivian with heightened concern. She appeared to have expected this.

"A Welsh family living in the area has contracted some sort of what is believed to be Spattergroit," she said calmly.

"Spattergroit? Well, there's nothing new about that. It's a nuisance, but it can be managed," Amos Diggory said, waving his hand inconsequentially.

Vivian regarded him coolly before continuing, "Some of you may be aware of a sub-strain entitled Cerebrumous Spattergroit, which caused severe memory loss and confusion back in the 1800s. This is very similar to what is happening in the Muggle population now. The difference – and a notable one – is that, while neither Spattergroit nor its sub-strain were lethal, this new strain is. There have been numerous Muggle deaths, and one member of the wizarding family has now succumbed."

"What about the rest of the family?" Gawain Robards asked.

"They remain in isolation, but one witch is exhibiting symptoms. Whilst Spattergroit is a long, drawn-out affliction, this new strain is not. It's moving alarmingly fast – and it's spreading," Vivian said.

"What do you mean by spreading?" Arthur Weasley asked warily.

Vivian turned toward Mr. Weasley, and Harry had the distinct impression she was weighing her words very carefully. "The initial Muggle cases were located in a village not far from where Auror Savage's team tracked their missing Potions Master. What we believe to be his laboratory was destroyed, which is why we detained the entire team for the past several days. They've all been cleared, but this disease has since spread to others with whom the initial victim came in contact."

"How did those people contract it in the first place?" Hermione asked.

Vivian put on what Harry was rapidly coming to view as her teacher mode, and he was struck by the realization that Vivian was very much an older version of Hermione.

"Unspeakables have swept the laboratory remains for any signs of fulmites – these are particles left on surfaces. The impact point appears to have been burnt clean or enough time has passed to eradicate survival, but we need to get a handle on how these particles are spread. What causes the illness, and more importantly, what cures it? We're hoping to track down any notes on exactly what this potion was meant to do, and how it was modified. We need to learn why some in the village were infected whilst others remain absolutely fine. Our initial belief was that it was airborne, but now we think it's spread by contact since we have a trail of contact points amongst most of the initial victims."

Vivian paused, her gaze sweeping across the room. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "There is also the concern that our Potions Master was testing on Muggles. We're fairly certain of this fact, and if any of his potential testers were from this nearby village – and it's more than likely they were – this could eliminate the airborne question entirely."

The Minister stood while Vivian took her seat. He gave Percy a moment to finish his notes before addressing the room, "Obviously, this will be a large-scale investigation, which is why you've all been asked here today. I have some tasks to assign for each for your departments, and we may need to call in others as we go along. We've begun looking into possible potion ingredients that could be used to create this lethal aspect to the sickness, and the Department of Mysteries suspects some sort of magical creature venom could be the cause, which is why we've asked your department here today, Amos."

Diggory nodded whilst Hermione scribbled notes beside him. "You'll get us a list of creatures under suspicion – or at least those you've ruled out?" he asked, addressing Vivian.

She withdrew a sheet of parchment from the stack in front of her straightaway, and handed it to Hermione, who immediately began to read.

Kingsley turned to Mr. Weasley. "Arthur, we're hoping you'll handle not only the Muggle relations but coordination with other countries on the Continent to monitor any sign of this infecting their populations. Use your judgement on how many others you'll need to involve. I expect a strict level of discretion from everyone in this room. Until we have a handle on this and how bad the potential could be, I do not want word of anything leaking out. We don't want to cause a mass panic, nor alienate any of our allies. I don't have to tell you what a diplomatic nightmare this has the potential to be. Still, if it looks as if it's spreading to other countries, we will have to alert them so that they can take the necessary precautions. Let's see what we're dealing with first, but let it be known that I expect any information gathered to be shared with anyone in harm's way. We are one Ministry, let's act like it."

"If we aren't even certain how this is spread, how can we be certain it will spread to other countries?" Royden Gray asked.

"If, as we suspect, it is spread by contact, it'll be easier to control amongst wizards through banning any long-distance Portkeys, and temporarily banning long-distance Apparition. We can monitor Apparition points, but there likely will be some who ignore our warnings. The Muggle population is much more difficult. Their ability to travel and their propensity for it is far more widespread. That will be up to their Minister once we are certain this is what we think it is, and that it's spreading," Vivian said.

"Royden, we'll need help from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes to coordinate a response in the magical communities here in Britain. I'll expect a report from you on how you propose doing this," Kingsley said, and like Hermione, Astoria frantically scribbled some notes.

"I want all hands on-deck. This trumps anything else going on in your various departments, and pull as many people in as you need, being mindful of keeping this quiet for as long as we are able," Kingsley said.

"What about other crimes? We've just completed a sweep of Knockturn Alley, and I'm certain all departments have some high priority issues affecting the wizarding world," Gawain Robards said.

"There won't be a wizarding world if we don't get a handle on this," Kingsley said grimly. "This is to be your top priority."

Amidst some grumbling, the meeting broke apart, some of the attendees hurrying out faster than others. Both Ron and Hermione began moving toward Harry, but Gawain Robards reached him first, so they were forced to keep moving.

"I want you all in my office for a briefing on your detainment before you head out for the day. I'll get things started here, but you all look as if you could use a brief respite," he said to Harry, Owen and Ethan before storming from the conference room, certain they would follow.

"A brief respite," Owen said, under his breath. "From him, that was practically like… like caring."

Harry snorted as he and Ethan followed him to Robards' office.

/* /* /* /*

Harry leaned back and shut his eyes, soaking in the comfort of finally being home. He'd taken a long, soothing shower, scrubbing himself raw, changed into his most comfy lounge trousers with a T-shirt and was stretched out on the sofa in the sitting room with Ginny snuggled firmly in his arms. This is what he'd been craving for days. He wiggled his toes in his sock-clad feet and sank deeper into the leather cushions.

Ginny had prepared a simple lunch of ham and cheese toasties with crisps and Butterbeer, and they'd consumed it right there on the sofa. Their dirty plates and empty bottles were scattered across the coffee table as the pair felt too lazy to move. Harry had briefly told her about the meeting that morning and his subsequent discussion with Robards.

Ginny's head was resting on Harry's chest near his shoulder, and he was tracing lazy circles along her back. Her hand rested on his abdomen, and there was something comforting feeling its weight there.

"So, there wasn't anyone else from the Department of Mysteries there?" she asked.

It was one of the things that he loved about her – she was curious about what he was involved with, but she didn't barrage him with questions, instead letting him answer at his own pace without interrupting his sometimes-prolonged silences as he marshaled his thoughts.

"Just Vivian," he said finally. "Owen doesn't like her, and he said most Unspeakables work alone since they're so secretive. He said her teammates don't even want to work with her."

"Why?" Ginny asked, so startled that she clenched his T-shirt in her fist. She raised her head slightly to look him in the eye. "I thought you said you liked her."

"I do, but he's not impressed. I think they had words when she visited us in detainment. She wasn't too thrilled with the idea of working with him, either," Harry said, remembering Vivian's distaste of Owen's vocabulary.

"So, you'll be stuck in the middle again?" Ginny asked, laying her head back down.

Harry chuckled. "I suppose so. On the bright side, we've found what it takes to shut Ethan up – a global pandemic."

"That's not funny," Ginny said reprovingly, but he could feel her grinning against his chest.

"It's a little funny," he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I didn't get to talk to Ron and Hermione after the meeting, but I know they wanted a word. I expect they'll come home straightaway after work."

"Hermione was beside herself when we couldn't find you because the last thing she'd done was argue with you. She didn't say why though. What did you argue about?" Ginny asked.

"House-elves."

"Again? Harry, you just need to put your wand down and tell her you don't agree with her," Ginny said, and he knew she rolled her eyes without actually seeing it.

"It's not that easy," he said.

"Yes, it is, actually."

"Maybe for you. You're scarier than me," Harry said.

Ginny snorted. "I'm scarier than the man who beat Voldemort? Oh, that's rich."

Harry kissed the top of her head, grinning. He could smell that flowery scent that he always associated with her, and he inhaled deeply. "Hermione knows us both better than that, and she definitely knows you're scarier. Besides, Ron says she's just mental when it comes to house-elves."

Ginny shook her head, sighing. "I could never understand why anyone would listen to anything Ron says, but I know you appreciate him for some reason."

"Sorry about that," Harry replied good naturedly.

Ginny shrugged, "Well, everyone has flaws. I suppose that's yours."

Harry laughed, a low, rumbling laugh that began deep in his chest.

"Seriously, though, you need to tell her how you feel. I know you love her, and she knows you love her, too. Friends don't always have to agree to still be friends," Ginny said.

"I know that. I've stood up to her before, you know. It's just… house-elves are always so personal to her. It's like… it's been a life mission for her or something."

"Umm, but didn't you say this Gwilym character's life mission was curing Spattergroit scars? Look where that's got us. Maybe if one of his mates had spoken up that he was getting carried away with the methods he was using to go about things, we wouldn't be here right now."

"That's not fair. Liberating house-elves isn't reckless," Harry said, aware he really didn't support giving house-elves their freedom if they didn't want it, and he wasn't certain how he'd ended up defending the notion.

"Neither is curing Spattergroit scars," Ginny said.

Harry pulled her closer, hugging her tight. "I'm never going to win an argument with you, am I?"

Ginny nodded, snuggling deeper. "I'm glad we finally have that straight."

Harry supposed they ought to get up and clean their mess. He needed a kip before they were due at The Burrow later that night, but it was just so warm and comfortable here. His thoughts eventually faded as he thought no more and fell into sleep right there on the sofa, Ginny in his arms, where she belonged.

/* /* /* /*

Harry ended up sleeping the entire afternoon away, and didn't awaken until he heard Ron and Hermione coming home from work, and Ginny trying to shush them. Once he'd dragged himself off the sofa and changed his clothes, they all Apparated to The Burrow for one of Mrs. Weasley's command Weasley family dinners. Since the war, she'd made certain they'd all gather together for at least one meal per week. It was always a raucous affair, but no matter how much anyone grumbled about having to go, none of them would miss it if avoidable, and they always ended up happy they'd done so by the time it was over.

As had become habit, Harry found himself in Mr. Weasley's shed attempting to explain various Muggle discoveries to the excitable man. Mr. Weasley had begun stealing Harry away at the beginning of each gathering to show him his latest find. Harry always found the entire clan together overwhelming at first, so he very much enjoyed being eased into it, and Mr. Weasley seemed to understand this.

Mr. Weasley seemed to understand a lot about Harry, actually. At first, Harry had been really embarrassed by his attention, but gradually, he'd learned to look forward to these small chats as much as the food they'd consume later. Mr. Weasley was always so genuinely interested in whatever Harry was doing, and Harry was slightly ashamed to admit that he enjoyed the singular interest quite a lot. Eventually, various other Weasleys ended up joining them one by one until the shed became too crowded, and they'd all end up going inside.

For now, it was just he and Mr. Weasley looking at a broken microwave oven that Mr. Weasley had brought home to examine. Despite his promotion to a larger department encompassing many other things, Mr. Weasley had never lost his fascination with Muggles, something Mrs. Weasley still found exasperating.

"And you say it can heat food as fast as magic? Amazing! I daresay, I have to see that," Mr. Weasley said, tugging at the plug.

The microwave looked as if it had been fried at some point, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Weasley had tried to microwave a fork or something.

"So, are you feeling better after a rest? You look much improved since this morning," Mr. Weasley said, never taking his eyes off the plug.

It was another thing Harry always appreciated about Mr. Weasley. He never pounced on Harry to answer personal questions, but more eased them into the conversation and let him answer in his own time. He recognized the same trait in Ginny.

"I feel loads better after a kip. I never sleep well when I'm not in my own… house," Harry said hastily, flushing slightly. He'd nearly said his own bed, and that was definitely a topic he didn't want to discuss with Mr. Weasley. He felt his face growing hot, and noticed that Mr. Weasley's ears had gone red, as well. Unlike Mrs. Weasley, who made her feelings precisely known, Harry and Mr. Weasley had been carefully dancing around the topic for years.

"Yes, well… quite understandable," Mr. Weasley said, clearing his throat. "Kingsley is very concerned over the potential devastation this illness can cause."

Harry felt a bead of sweat trickling down his back and searched for a change in subject, latching onto the meeting that morning. "Yeah. D'you know Vivian Scott, Mr. Weasley?" he asked. It had suddenly occurred to him that Mr. Weasley had been at the Ministry longer than any of them, and he might have some insight.

But Mr. Weasley was shaking his head. "Not personally, no. I know of her, of course, but those Unspeakables tend to keep to themselves."

"Oh," Harry said, disappointed. That's what everyone seemed to say about the Department of Mysteries.

"I do recall a bit of a hubbub surrounding her a few years ago, though just hearsay," Mr. Weasley said, his ears reddening once again.

"What's that? Harry asked keenly.

"Now, it's just rumor, really, so keep that in mind, but… I've heard she tends to rub some people the wrong way. She doesn't hide her disdain for those lacking her abundance of intellect."

"Hmm," Harry said. He'd only really spoken to her once, but he could easily see how that could be the case. "She and Owen appear to have clashed, although I haven't heard the full story yet. Owen might've been in as bad a mood as I was whilst locked up."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "I think you'll be interested to know she clashed rather spectacularly with Dolores Umbridge when she was still at the Ministry."

Harry's head shot up. Dolores Umbridge was still rotting in Azkaban for her implementation of the Muggleborn Registration Committee, and Harry hoped she stayed there. "Why? What happened with Umbridge?"

"I'm not really sure. I wasn't there, but I heard they had a blazing row, and Umbridge came off looking rather foolish for it. She tried to have Scott fired afterwards, but one of her department heads stood up for her. I'm not certain whatever came of it."

If anything, that only increased his opinion of Vivian Scott. Anyone who has a go at Umbridge was all right in his book.

"You've always appeared to be an excellent judge of character to me, Harry, so give her a chance, and go with your instincts. Remus was always telling us how good your instincts were," Mr. Weasley said, causing Harry's cheeks to feel hot.

He nodded. "She's certainly not overly warm, but I liked her," Harry said. "She used Voldemort's name straight off without any squeamishness, and I always see that as a good sign."

"There's a good lad," Mr. Weasley said, picking up the plug. "Do you reckon this would still work if we found a place to put it in?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't look like it, Mr. Weasley. It looks like someone might have put something metal inside."

"And you're not supposed to do that?" Mr. Weasley asked, his eyes widening. Harry could see a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.

"It's dangerous," Harry said firmly, afraid he might've just given the man a reckless idea. "It can cause a fire and renders the microwave useless afterwards."

"Ah, well… we certainly don't want that," Mr. Weasley said, peering into the scorched inside of the microwave.

"How would you get it to work here, anyway?" Harry asked. "I've tried several times to get a telly to work at Grimmauld Place, but the remote goes wonky and it stops working within a few days."

Mr. Weasley nodded, "Yes, yes. Magic and eklectricty don't mix well, I'm afraid. You need to get your experiments done very quickly."

Harry laughed. "I didn't want to experiment with it. I was hoping to watch a program," he said.

Mr. Weasley's head shot up, beaming. "Oh, wouldn't that be marvelous? Bit like George's Action Twin, isn't it?"

The Action Twin was an invention of George's that allowed them to all view Quidditch matches on the wireless. It had been widely successful, but as yet, wizard broadcasting hadn't gone any further than sporting matches. Ron had come up with the idea after seeing a Muggle telly in Australia, and Harry found it amusing that Mr. Weasley assumed the Action Twin came first.

"It is like that, but they also have programs that teach you how to cook, or make you laugh, or even show you a story… like a book does but with people acting out the scenes," Harry said.

Mr. Weasley looked thoroughly excited. "Oh, I'll have to see that. I've taken apart loads of tellys, but I've never seen anything on them before."

Harry doubted Mr. Weasley had ever seen an actual working one. He just liked to collect things.

"We can't go look now, though, Molly would have our hides. She's been fretting for days over this dinner," Mr. Weasley said, looking as if he was considering it anyway and trying to talk himself out of leaving the party.

"What's special about this one?" Harry asked. Ginny hadn't mentioned if they were celebrating anything.

"Oh, nothing. With Percy's wedding fast approaching, she's all in a dither. Audrey's mum is making most of the arrangements, see, and Molly is feeling a bit left out. She's used to being in charge, my Molly," Mr. Weasley said fondly. "Her one win is having the wedding here since we've so much space, so Molly is focusing all her energy on the plans."

Percy had announced his engagement to Audrey Abbott who also worked at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Law. Audrey was a quiet girl, soft-spoken, and she always seemed a bit overwhelmed by the abundance of Weasleys. Harry felt a certain affinity for her because he recognized the occasional panic in her eyes. Ginny had said that Audrey's mum was even more overbearing than Mrs. Weasley, and the two women were having some sort of tug-of-war over wedding plans.

Harry thought it was all mental.

The shed door opened, and Ron had to hunch nearly double to come inside without hitting his head. "What are you two up to? Mum grabbed Hermione and Ginny to look at recipe ideas for Percy's rehearsal dinner," Ron said, sounding revolted. Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Ron sound that way about food. "I'm sick of hearing about that bloody wedding. When I get married, I'm eloping."

"That would break your mother's heart," Mr. Weasley said. "How near in the future will your wedding take place? Does Hermione want to elope too?"

"What?" Ron asked blankly, then all the color slowly drained from his face as he realized what he'd said. "No! I mean… eventually, yeah, but not now. I haven't even asked her, and don't you put the idea in her head. I just meant I'd want to avoid Mum's fussing is all."

"You're babbling, Ron," Harry said, holding back a laugh at the panicked expression on Ron's face.

Ron gave Harry a two-finger salute, causing Mr. Weasley to say, "Don't let your mother catch you doing that."

"What happened at work today? Did you get assigned to our investigation?" Harry asked. "I reckoned you must've done since you were there with Robards."

Ron's ears turned red. "Yeah. I thought I was going to get read the riot act for busting into your safe house, to be honest. Some of the higher ups in the Department of Mysteries weren't too happy about it, and they reported me, but it turns out, Robards isn't a big fan of them, so instead, he assigned me to work on the case. I'm supposed to report to Owen tomorrow to help you lot track down leads on where else Gethin might've brewed his potions to see if he left any kind of a paper trail. Neville is on it, too. Robards is hand-picking people."

"That makes sense. Kingsley said he wanted to keep it discreet for now," Mr. Weasley said, continuing to tinker with the buttons on his microwave.

"Hermione is already tracking samples of various species' venom, but she reckons we should alert the Muggles of a potential problem now rather than later," Ron said.

"Vivian said they needed some actual facts before there was anything to tell," Harry said.

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, well, Hermione didn't seem all that impressed with Vivian, to be honest. She still tends to respect authority figures, but since she's always liked Owen, and he doesn't like Vivian, she thinks there has to be something wrong with her. I think she's just not used to not being the brightest witch in the room," Ron said, smirking slightly.

"Did you tell her that?" Harry asked, eyes widening.

Ron looked at him incredulously. "Of course not. I'm not mental."

"And you don't like sleeping on the sofa," Harry said, grinning.

"Right you are," Ron said, nodding fervently.

"Listen, boys, your mother knows about this investigation, and obviously Percy was there, but let's not discuss any of this at dinner, all right. I haven't said anything to Bill, Charlie or George," Mr. Weasley said.

"Ginny knows, so I expect Percy has told Audrey," Harry said.

"I wouldn't bet on it. Percy always follows the rules very strictly," Ron said, rubbing his stomach so Harry knew he was getting hungry again.

"Now, the Minister knows people talk about their jobs to their spouses, it's only natural. He just expects the spouses also only talk to their mates. It's always worked that way," Mr. Weasley said, unconcerned.

The shed door opened again and George stuck his head inside. "Mum says dinner is ready, so she wants you lot to come out. Bill and Percy have already set up the table. Hurry up, it smells delicious," George said before retreating.

"Come on, lads, our feast awaits!"

Mr. Weasley, Ron and Harry made their way across The Burrow's back garden to where the table had been set up, already overflowing with various dishes. The aroma wafted through the air enticingly, and Harry's stomach grumbled, reminding him that his ham and cheese toastie had been consumed long ago.

Bill and Fleur were already seated, watching George on the swing with their daughter, Victoire, who was already a year old and squealing with delight at George. Percy and Audrey sat at the far end of the table, as far from the center as they could get, Harry noted. He usually tried to get that spot himself.

Mrs. Weasley emerged from the kitchen door carrying yet another tray, and Hermione and Ginny followed with their arms laden, as well. The only one missing was Charlie, who planned to come home for the wedding.

Harry bade everyone a hello, then slid onto the bench next to Ginny, who took his hand under the table, running her thumb soothingly along it. He gave her hand a squeeze before filling his plate. The food was sumptuous as always, and Harry ate entirely too much. He wondered if he could inconspicuously loosen a notch on his belt after Mrs. Weasleys Black Forest cake had been devoured.

"Did you have a nice chat with my dad?" Ginny asked, keeping her voice low. The scattered conversations going on along the long table gave them a bit of privacy as no one was paying particular attention to them.

"Yeah. Did you enjoy wedding planning?" Harry asked, smirking and already knowing the answer.

"I'm so sick of hearing about that bloody wedding," Ginny said, sounding amazingly similar to Ron. "Do you know Audrey has decided on pink bridesmaid robes? Pink is not my color. Oh, and of course Mum started in on how she wishes I'd move home."

"I'm sure you'll be the prettiest one there," Harry said, squeezing her hand beneath the table.

"I'll look like a bloody beacon with the way the robes will clash with my hair," she said crossly. "Even Fleur didn't make me wear pink."

Harry, who'd never once considered the need to match his clothing with his hair color, stayed silent and just nodded, hoping his expression conveyed sympathy.

Ginny, of course, saw right through him and seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, "Oh, shut it, Potter. You've got lovely black hair that goes with everything."

"I think it only goes with red," he said, nudging her shoulder.

Ginny looked as if she was trying to hold her cross expression, she really did, but he could read the softening a mile away. "You're a prat," she said, but she leaned over and kissed him, anyway.

"Hey, hey, none of that at the dinner table. There are those of us here hopelessly alone that don't need to be reminded of it," George called loudly from across the table.

"Where's Angelina, then? Have you chased her off at last?" Ginny fired back.

"Yes, where is Angelina, George? I thought you said she was coming?" Mrs. Weasley asked, turning her attention on George.

George scowled, and Ginny stuck out her tongue.

"She had other things to do," George mumbled.

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "She'll be here for the wedding, though, right?" she asked, pinning her son with her gaze.

"I suppose, unless any of Fleur's Veela cousins have been pining too badly for me that I should show some compassion and escort them for a stunning evening of dancing and frivolity," he said, batting his eyelashes at Fleur.

Fleur turned to him, waving her hand, "None of zem 'ave mentioned you, but I can arrange eet if you're desperate."

"Ooooh," all the other Weasley brothers chorused in delight.

"I do just fine. Like to spread the wonderfulness that is me around. Mum taught us all to be generous," George said. "It's not my fault the rest of you have decided to be selfish with a single partner."

"Yep, she definitely ditched him again," Ginny said, finishing off the last of her Butterbeer.

"All right, that's enough, Ginny. We do need an accurate head count for seating arrangements, though," Mrs. Weasley said, taking charge. "Audrey, dear, I'm going to arrange to have the marquee delivered on the Friday beforehand. That's what we did for Bill and Fleur's wedding, and it worked splendidly."

Audrey's eyes opened wider, and she looked rather panicked at being addressed. She turned towards Percy, her mocha-colored ponytail hung limply down her back, but with her head turned, Harry couldn't see her expression.

Percy cleared his throat. "Actually, mother. We've decided to hold the wedding at a lovely country estate in Bridport Harbor that Audrey's mother fancies. It'll be a lot less work for you, and there is staff to do the cleaning and serving. I think it'll be better all around, and you can simply enjoy the day."

A pregnant pause greeted this pronouncement. They all knew how delighted Mrs. Weasley had been by the prospect of hosting yet another wedding in the garden. She was still perturbed that the Death Eaters had spoiled the end of Bill and Fleur's day.

Mrs. Weasley stared at her third son for a moment, silent, and the rest of the group held their breath waiting to see what she would say. Harry could feel his heart thumping as his gaze flickered back and forth between the two. He'd faced down countless Death Eaters, but he still wouldn't want to have Mrs. Weasley looking at him that way.

Audrey apparently couldn't take it, either, for she said, "My mum really fell in love with the place, and I'm certain you'll love it, too."

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath, seeming to gather herself, but her voice shook only slightly as she said, "Well, if you're certain you'd rather do it there, but I thought having it somewhere that meant something to you might be nicer."

This tug-of-war had been going on for over a month. Audrey's mum kept changing the plans, and Audrey never seemed to mind while Mrs. Weasley kept trying to insert her own opinion. Percy, however, tended to go along with Audrey.

Harry thought if it was just going along with Audrey it would be okay. He was certainly going to side with Ginny if it came to it, but it felt more like Percy was siding with Mrs. Abbott because he was trying to impress her, and that reminded him too much of the old Percy.

Percy had always been Harry's least favorite Weasley, but like the rest of them, he'd changed after the war. He'd grown more relaxed and less disapproving of his family, but he still tended to be stiff and unbending when it came to work. As much as Harry approved of Vivian Scott for her row with Dolores Umbridge, Harry always remembered that Percy had once referred to her as a 'delightful woman.'

He could feel the tension in Ginny beside him, and he hated that this was upsetting her.

"Well, Bridport Harbor is still in Devon, so it's not far. The backdrop of the sea will be lovely, and there's an Inn if some folks want to stay for a bit of a holiday," Percy said.

"I see," Mrs. Weasley said brittlely. "Well, I won't order the marquee, then. I'd best get this mess cleared as it's getting dark."

And with that, she stood, gathered a few odd things, and marched back into The Burrow, her back ramrod straight, never looking back.

"Nice one, Perce," George muttered.

Mr. Weasley stood up, nodded awkwardly to Percy and Audrey, then followed Mrs. Weasley inside.

Percy watched him go, stiff-backed, the same way Mrs. Weasley had been. "She's probably disappointed because she loves a crowd, but it'll really be better this way. You'll see," he said, his worried expression contradicting his words.

"I wouldn't bet on it," Ron said darkly.

"Why did you wait until now to tell her?" Ginny demanded, frowning at Percy.

"It's just happened, and I didn't think it would come up at dinner. Besides, it's our wedding, it's our decision," Percy said, his face very red.

"And she's all of our mum," Ron said, his voice rising. "We don't like seeing her upset."

"That's enough," Bill said, his voice resounding over all the others. "Let Percy and Audrey work it out with Mum without all the rest of your opinions. It won't do anyone any good. Perce, I think you might want a private word with Mum, though."

Ron, who amongst all the siblings still held more of a grudge toward Percy's past behavior, was having none of it. "You were all fine on having it here until something better came along, is that it?" he asked, getting to his feet.

Hermione tugged on his sleeve trying to make him sit back down.

"This isn't something better, it's just something different," Percy snarled.

"Siding with her family over your own. Hmm, where I have seen this before?" Ron asked.

"That's not fair," Percy shouted. "I'm not siding with anyone, merely choosing the location of my own wedding."

"Doesn't look to me like you did the choosing at all," Ron snapped.

"Ron! You're not helping," Ginny said. "And Percy, since you already told her the wedding would be held here, she deserved more than an offhand comment that you'd changed your mind. Don't you dare pretend you didn't realize that would upset her."

Audrey looked ready to cry while Percy and Ron were still glowering at each other.

Harry felt awkward and out of place. He met Hermione's eyes across the table and knew she felt the same. The Weasley family always included him like another son, but sometimes, he still felt very out of his depth. "Let's help her with clearing up all this stuff," he said, putting dishes on one of the empty serving trays.

Hermione jumped up to help him while the siblings renewed their bickering. Harry and Hermione cleared the table quickly and efficiently, and Harry used his wand to make whatever he couldn't fit on the tray hover above it as they brought all the debris inside the kitchen.

It was dark and empty inside, although he could hear the sound of Mrs. Weasley's sobs floating down the stairway. He looked helplessly at Hermione, who took charge. Flicking her wand, the oil lamps lit, filling the kitchen with warmth and light.

"Let's at least clean the mess so she won't have to deal with it later," she said briskly. She began loading the dishes into the sink and cast another spell so they started to wash themselves.

Harry binned the leftover scraps of food and put the dirty napkins in the hamper by the washer. It was quite some time later, when the kitchen was clean and sparkling, that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came back downstairs.

"Ah, yes. We'd wondered who'd come inside," Mr. Weasley said. "Thank you both for taking care of the mess. Is everyone else still outside?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I don't think anyone has left yet, though we probably should be getting on. We all have a busy day tomorrow."

"Right. Why don't we say good night, then," he said, and Hermione followed him out the kitchen door.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes followed them, but she made no move to follow after. She looked so bereft and unlike herself that Harry didn't know what made him do it, but he crossed the kitchen, wrapped his arms around her and hugged tightly.

She seemed startled at first, but then she tried to squeeze the life out of him. Somehow, the hug seemed to bring her back to herself, for she was the first to pull away, patting him on the cheek as she did. "Not to worry, dear, when it's your and Ginny's turn, we'll do it up right."

Harry pulled back, startled, thinking of that little velvet box he'd been unable to present to Ginny on their failed holiday. Did Mrs. Weasley know? Did she suspect?

"Oh, the look on your face, dear," she said, laughing. "I'm not pressuring. All in good time."

Harry didn't have time to give it more thought as all the other Weasleys began filing back into the kitchen, the conversation growing loud once again. Percy and Audrey were both conspicuously missing, but all the rest were carrying on without a misstep. Harry stood to the side, watching them all and feeling rather out of sorts. Ginny made her way over to him, and stood against the wall next to him.

She leaned over and whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Want to go home and shag?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Does that question really need answering?"

They made a hasty retreat, Harry not sparing another thought to where the wedding was going to be.

Author's Note: As always, my utmost thanks and appreciation to my beta team, Sherry, Arnel and Sue, who always make my stories better with their thoughtful care and insight.

Also, thanks very much to the readers for voting for this story in the SIYE Trinket awards. Contagion received honorable mentions in both the New Story and Drama categories. Very much appreciated!

As always, please drop a comment and share your thoughts. I love to know what people are thinking, and which angles are working and which aren't. The only way I can know is with your feedback.