CHAPTER 10 : GIFTS AND DESTINY

George tried to fix the broken plate, but his hand was shaking too much for the spell to work. Ginny stepped in, and he repaid her Reparo with a grateful nod, while he at least put the glasses back on the table. Molly was still sobbing, but her breath was back under control and she was holding her husband's hand firmly. Bill was back on his seat next to Fleur, who was whispering something in his ear. He was pale, his anger demanding to be released in a raging hurricane. This was the kind of feeling that scared him, making him wonder if the Healers were not wrong about the werewolf's bite... But the veela's gentle touch worked its magic, and the rage faded away with every heartbeat.

Harry dragged is chair next to George, and sat down.

"Look, I was planning to give it to you tomorrow morning, with the rest of the gifts, but I think it's best if I do it right away."

George adressed a questionning look, not getting what Harry was talking about. He understood something about a gift, but that was it. Harry rose from his seat, and said : "Stay here, I'll be right back." and without waiting for an answer, he left the table and went upstairs.

Ron's room smelled fresh and clean, like his mother had just clean it up, but the dust on the furniture was piling up for at least two months. Maybe Molly thought they would be back in a matter of days, kept the room clean for a while, but quickly understood that they will not be back that soon.

In the corner of the room, a small pile of wrapped gifts were waiting. He had them sent by Owl Post Service a few days before to be sure he would not have to carry everything with him at once. Molly had been kind enough to retrieve and hide them in the room, so he would have his presents to offer for Christmas morning, along with everyone else.

He searched for a few seconds and got his hands on what look unmistakenly like a big book in gold and red gift-wrap, and went back down, quickly and loudly.

"Here", he said, presenting his gift to the grieving twin. "Merry Christmas, George."

Cleary, he barely understood what was happening, but it took it nonetheless. His siblings, at least the ones who were here, gathered around him.

"Open it", whispered Ginny.

He looked at her, and the only thing that actually gave him the strengh to open it was her smile. Warm, conforting. Honest and real.

When he tore the wrapping, his hand was steady again.

The book was thick, its cover of a deep dark red, with the letters FW engraved in gold as an obvious reminder of the Gryffindor's colors. He opened it, and as he slowly turned the pages, tears gathered again at the corners of his eyes. A moving picture of Fred flying on his broom during a match against Ravenclaw, another one of them together in front of their freshly opened shop, a two pages story written by a feminine hand. The book was filled with pictures of Fred flying, or laughing, and stories written by various authors.

"I asked everyone to share whatever picture or anectode they had about your brother" explained Harry. "Angelina, Katie Bell, even Oliver Wood. They all wanted to write something. Share their memories, and their love for him."

George was now crying for real, silently, trying to prevent the tears from falling onto his precious book. He was turning the pages faster now, with his mother now looking over his shoulder, her mouth covered with her hands.

" You knew about this ?" she asked at her daughter.

"I even wrote a couple of stories myself" she answered proudly. "Harry's idea, though, and a brilliant one !"

Molly could only nod her approbation.

"You see" continued Harry, " when Hagrid offered me the album with my parent's picture, it changed everything for me. No matter Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione, Hagrid, and everything else, there was always this thought in the back of my mind. This stupid idea that I was alone, left behind and abandonned. Until I got this book. With this, there were finally with me. They might have left me, but I did not lost them. I feared you might feel the same way so... I hope that it's ok... I mean, it really helped me. It keeps helping, a lot, so I thought..."

Sundenly, he was not so sure about his present anymore. George would not stop crying about the book, he did not even look at Harry.

"It's perfect... Thank you, thank you so much" he finally stuttered, to Harry's great relief. "Thank you all so much. I will read everything once I get my thoughts in order. I will write to everyone to thank them too."

He kept going through the pages, some of them twice or three time, chuckled to some pictures, laughed even for a special one that remind him some memories no one else would get. After a while, talks resumed around him, quieter, more serious. Like it should be, at least for now. Someday, maybe, they would spend Christmas like they used to, when all that would be left of Fred would be joy and happy memories.

The world outside was black and cold. Quiet. The white of the snow on the edges of the windows gave a comforting feeling, shielding Harry from the darkness of the winter night, as he was about to go to sleep. His old bed in Ron's room was calling for him, familiar and reassuring. The silence through the house was now unbroken, as even Molly and Arthur went to bed. The young man tried to focus through the silence, trying to ear the breathing of Ginny despite the walls and the doors. He was sure he could hear it, but maybe he was just imagining it. He kept debating with himself, if he should join her and break the unspoken rule that no boys would ever be allowed in Ginny's room with Molly still alive. Maybe she was expecting him, after all, they have been apart for a few months already and it would be a deserved reward. He even stepped oustide his room and went to hers, hopefull, thinking about how her sleeping outfit would reveal her skin, the shape of her breasts... But hearing Ginny's slow breathing through her door, he knew he should not wake her up. They would be together soon enough. It was 2am, and his pillow would also be a good partner for the night.

When he rose from his bed, it felt like he had slept half an hour, but the sun in the sky told otherwise. Downstairs, everyone was up with cups of tea or coffee in their hands, and obviously waiting for him. So were his godson, Teddy, and her grandmother Andromeda Tonks.

"Rise and shine, look who's finally up!" teased Bill. "It seems that being done with school made you lose some good habits. Maybe I should drop by your house overy now and then at 6am to bring them back!"

"Don't you dare!" he answered with a yawn. "Or I will make sure you and your wife never get any private time for the rest of your life."

George bursts in laughter, while Fleur opened wide her outrage eyes and Bill lift his hands in surrender.

"Oh Harry, you're awake! Perfect!" Said Molly while bringing a plate of bacon to the table. " I though for a moment I would have to send someone check on you. Please, come and eat. We'll exchange presents right after."

It was almost noon when they finally sat around the Christmas tree. Molly had a lunch cooked already, but everybody was so full of breakfast that it might wait for dinner. Wrappings were laying across the floor, scattered around by excited hands in hurry to open their presents.

His new jumper over his shoulders, Harry was carefully opening the the black box Ginny just handed him.

"I picked it myself" she had said. " I hope it will be usefull!"

Once the box opened, Harry froze. His face took a pale shade and his smile disappeared. Ginny stepped back, now worried.

"You don't like it?" she muttered.

But he barely heard her. Before his eyes were flashing the last moments of Pansy Parkinson, the blood pouring out of her mouth, the knife through her mouth. In his ears were ringing the screams of Milicent while the blade was slashing through her flesh.

"You told me you started to cook, so I thought a real good knife would be helpful... Mom told me that the japanese ones were very high qyality, so I thought, why not..."

The sadness in her voice was heartbreaking. Everybody around stopped talking. Maybe that's what brought Harry back to the present, and to the incredible silver blade shining in its box. The engraved japanese symbol on the handle, the smooth grip, the perfectly balanced blade, all of it screamed of absolute perfection. She might have spent all of her savings in this, he thought. He slowly took it in his hand, inspecting it without a word.

"It's absolutely wonderful, Ginny. I'm sorry, i just... I guess I had a hard time believing my eyes, this is too much..."

The emotions in his voice made it feel sincere enough for her to be reassured and smile again, but truth be told, he was mainly trying not to think of how he could use this for other puprose than cuisine.

"Do you know what those symbols mean?" he asked. "Some incantion or rune work?"

She laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's just the brand" she answered. "Okay, give me mine present now! My turn, My turn!"

Harry sighed with a smile. "Alright, alright ! Jeez you can't let me enjoy my stuff for a minute, can you?" She knew he was joking, and waited for him to get her present from the tree. But he did not. Instead, he reached for his pocket and a small black box appeared in his hand. The perfect size for a ring.

"Oh god, Harry..." Once again, everyone was watching. She was torn between the excitement, and the fear. Something, deep down, made her wish it was not a ring. It would be too much, too soon. It would look to much like a promise of a life together that she was wanting, but not yet ready to commit to.

"Come on" he said, "open it!"

She did, with shaking hands, while her mother hold her breath. Inside, a black velvet cushion held a pair of earings. Silver triangles in which a round clear diamond stone. In a way, the shape reminded Harry of the Deathly Hallows, except that the darkness of their aura were replaced by the warm light of the silvery frame. They were beautiful, shining lighlty under the winter morning light, small enough so each could fit on the tip of one finger. Holding her hand in front of her mouth, Ginny tried really hard not to cry. Her mother even let a "oh my god" out. Arthur slightly pat her on the arm to attract her attention.

"Molly", he whispered. "I think I've seen them before".

"They belonged to my mother" Harry explained, as if he heard him. "Or at least I think. I've found them into the family safe at Gringotts, and well, obviously, it's not like I would ever wear them myself. So I like to think that they belonged to her and that she would like to know they now belong to someone I love."

Now Ginny cried for real, while her smile could not be bigger. She hated to show herself so girly, fragile, but it was impossible for her to contain the overflow of gratitude, love, and happiness.

"Harry" gently spoke Mr Weasley. "If Sirius were here, he would confirm better than I can, but I think those are the earings Lily was wearing when they got married."

The young man chuckled. "Well, then this is taking a way bigger emotionnal turn than I expected, but it makes me twice happier to know they are Ginny's to wear now."

"Hell", yelled Bill, "Harry, you're making it very hard for the rest of us to look good here."

"Love, when are you offering me such fine jewels?" asked Fleur with a teasing smile.

"You know you don't need any piece of diamond to be the most beautiful person in any room, darling."

"Smooth come back, brother", laughed George. "Very smooth!"

While laughs and discussions went on until the mid-afternoon lunch was over, Harry was trying very hard to keep every thoughts of blood and knives far from his mind. But as the old saying goes, try no to think of an elephant, and you inevitably will. The knife in his hand, used to cut the meat in small pieces, brought him back every time to the magnificient blade Ginny gave him, stored in his coat's pocket. The tension in his muscles did not escape his girlfriend's watchful eyes, but she said nothing, giving him the space she believed he needed.

But when dessert came, fate finally made its move. A sign for Harry that Destiny itself approved of his crusade. It came knocking on the window in the shape of an owl. Arthur Weasley clearly recognized the said bird, as he frowned his eyebrows.

"What the..."he muttered.

He let it in and gathered the letter it was holding in its beak, opened it and froze.

"No way..." he whispered.

He had turned to a shade of pale Molly had only saw when he learned the death of Fred. She immediately thought of the worst, maybe it was Ron and Hermione, maybe it was Charlie. She wanted to cry, but her husband turned to her and she noticed no sadness in his eyes. Only hate and anger.

"What is it, Dad?" asked Bill. He was already up, his hand on his wand ready to get things done.

"It's... nothing, kids, nothing".

But it was a lie, obviously, and his shaken voice could not fool a baby. As a matter of fact, it actually did not, as even Teddy Lupin stopped playing on his grandmother's knees.

"Dad, tell us. Did something happen?" pressed George.

Arthur looked at his son, not sure about what his next move should be. He probably should not involve him in this, but something pushed him to. A sense of justice, maybe. He opened the letter again, and read out loud.

"Dear Arthur.

I'm sorry to bother you on such a special day, but something just came up, and it cannot wait.

We just received a message from Azkaban. Rookwook has been attacked by Dementors in his cell. Nothing much out of the ordinary, but his heart almost gave up. This near-death experience scared him enough to get to talk to us. He agrees to reveal hiding spots, names, and more importantly, the probable location of Antonin Dolohov, in exchange for him to be moved into the medium security area, where Dementors would not get a hold on him.

As far as I'm concerned, I would tend to accept, as it would help us take down all that's left of the Dark Lord's network.

But since it's Rookwood, this is not a decision I can keep you out of.

So tell me, what is your choice?

Please hurry. He will be out of the infirmary by tonight, and back in his cell shortly after, but another attack might happen at anytime, and who knows if he's going to make it next time..."

Now George had his hands turned into fists, anger and indecision swirling into his mind.

"No way, Dad" intervene Bill. "This dirtbag killed Fred. He killed our brother. Let him rot!"

Arthur looked at him longly, instensly, and slowly started to nod. But before he could finish his approbation, George raised his hand.

"Ok. Accept, Dad." His voice was cold and sharp like Harry's new knife.

"But George" protested Bill. " He killed Fred ! His spell created the explosion that blasted the wall and took his life !"

"You think I don't know that ? You think I don't think about it every day? That I don't want to burn the whole world down in anger because I wasn't here to stop it, or push him out of the way, or anything else? I fucking missed one spell to take down another Death Eater, and by the time I landed the second shot, it was too late ! One stupid missed spell ! One! It's all it took for Rookwood to..."

He stopped, out of breath. He straightened himself up, and breathed deeply.

"But this is not about me. Nor about him. This is about all the lives we can save by stopping Dolohov and the others. We don't know what they're doing right now, but it anything happens to anyone, if they hurt just one soul because we chose not to take this chance, I would never forgive myself. Fred would never forgive us. So we do like he would have done: we take the deal, he stays locked up, and we send him all his friends as a bloody Thank you present!"

"That's not all." Arthur's voice was sharp and ice cold.

"Another news, which could have waited more, but this might be a good time, especially if it can help your pain.

Fenrir Greyback has been found. Dead. He was shot in the south of France by two muggles who thought he was a boar, and took two bullets in the back. I can't help to find the irony delightful. The identity has been confirmed yesterday by two Aurors. May this news bring your family a bit of comfort.

Once again, sorry to drop this dilemma on you on Christmas.

Kiss your wife for me.

Sincerely,

Your friend, Kingsley"

"Well, this is indeed a fitting end to that mutt" declared Bill. His grin was dark and sadistic, almost as if fangs would appear through his lips. His wife's hand on his shoulder brought him back to decency. The way she looked at him erased all sense of satisfaction and replaced it with shame, the shame of lowering down to their level even for a second.

"That doesn't change a thing" said Georges. "I stand by what I said. Take the deal."

But Arthur was not looking at him, even though he heard him. He was staring at his wife. She was not crying, not a single tear running down her cheeks, when Harry had expected her to. After all, she always cried for a yes or no. But the world of ice in her eyes matched the one in her husband's voice. The hate battled against the greater good in her brain, and only her son's voice put an end to it.

"I agree with Georgie. Fred's memory is worth way more than our need for revenge. As long as justice is still served, and he never gets out, we can take the deal."

Ginny nodded, without a word. Only Bill was still against, but as he said : " Well, your choice fellows. If this is what you all want, I will not stand in your way. I just hope it won't come back to bite us up the bum."

Meanwhile, Harry had said nothing. He had just listen. It was a great news. A fantastic opportunity just arised. A named just got taken out of his list, depsite the slight regret of not crossing it himself, but more importantly, there was now an opening. Someone with informations, withing his grasp, a way to find Dolohov or Goyle, to reach the Death Eaters in Azkaban, and maybe, maybe, to find the breach in the Malfoy's security.

All Harry had to do was to get his hands on Rookwood, and if possible, before he rats the all out to the Ministry. After all, he would be annoyed to see his prays snatched just before his eyes.