Christmas was approaching and the grounds received their first dusting of snow just a week before the holidays. For the first time since I started Hogwarts, my mother was forcing me to come home for the holidays. All the Weasleys at Hogwarts; me, Simone and her sister Evelyn, our cousin Jimmy and his brother George were all spending the Holidays at the Burrow with our family. This meant that I now had to face my mother and ask her about Harry Potter.
I had gone over my options; make some stuff up, try and find a book with information, but talking to my mother was the most sensible of these choices. Honestly, I was scared. I knew why my family never mentioned their close relationship with Harry Potter; my grandfather and Uncle George were killed in a the battle against Voldemort, trying to help Harry Potter. There was also the small detail of my father. The only time I heard my fathers' name mentioned it went right along with some mention of Harry Potter.
I only saw Eamon Finnigan once besides History of Magic class, where he sat quietly in the corner, his head bent low over paper, scribbling furiously.
He came up to me during breakfast one day before the holidays.
"Wisteria." I heard solemnly from behind me. I turned around to see Eamon standing there laden down with bags and an armful of books.
"Yeah?" I said, looking him over.
"I'm leaving for the holidays early. I just wanted to remind you to get as much information on Harry Potter as you can. We should probably take notes, so we can compare them."
"Er...okay, right. So, I'll see you after the holidays then, and we can look at our notes or whatever. Alright then, Happy Christmas!"
He blinked at me.
"It's not Christmas." he said puzzled.
"Right...Bye."
The Burrow was packed. Grandma, Bill, Fleur, Simone and Evelyn, Charlie, Fred, Angelina, Jimmy, George and their little sister, Sabrina, Aunt Ginny, my mother, and me, all arrived on the same day for Christmas Eve dinner. The small house was bursting with smells and sights. A large bird was roasting in the oven, as my grandmother bustled about trying to put out the flaming potatoes which were causing seven-year-old Sabrina who has pyrophobia to have a panic attack. Jimmy and George were rigging up some sort of trap on the stairs, whilst Fleur was breaking up a fight between Simone and Evelyn, who both wanted the blue nail polish. The fuzzy sounding radio was blasting a rocking Weird Sisters' Christmas Song as Angelina, Charlie, Fred and my mother were all still crowded around Sabrina trying to calm her down. The only person besides me who didn't seem to be involved in all this chaos was my aunt, Ginny.
I had heard that she didn't used to be like this, quiet and reserved. According to my mother, she used to be quite the vivacious heart-breaker in her years at Hogwarts. I had always wanted to ask her about it, but if there was any more dysfunction in my family, it would explode.
I spotted her in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees in the puffy armchair where she sat. I fell onto the sofa next to her, instantly muffling the chaos of the kitchen.
"Hi Aunt Ginny!" I greeted her, hoping to coax a smile out of her pursed lips. All I got in return was a small closed mouth smile.
"Oh, Wisteria. How are you?" She said in a tired sounding voice.
"Okay." I nodded. "Erm, Aunt Ginny...I have to write-"
I stopped myself there. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. No, I definitely should not ask Aunt Ginny about Harry Potter.
"I have to write down the lyrics to that song that I really like!" I blurted out quickly, laughing at myself on the inside.
"Er, Really. What song?" She asked.
"That one. That one that's playing." I said, thinking as fast as I could.
"Oh. I don't know the lyrics, sorry Wisty."
I cringed at the nickname my family had christened me with and quickly got off the couch.
"Well, that's okay. I think I'm going to go help out in the kitchen." I said, eagerly leaving the awkward scene behind.
Although, the kitchen was not much better. Sabrina had stopped crying but now was demanding a chocolate frog. The stove was no longer on fire, but my Grandmothers' floral kitchen apron was. I found my mother leaning over a whole bunch of paperwork at the scrubbed wooden table.
"Hey Mum." I said, coming up to her.
"Oh there you are. I wondered where you had gone." She said, but did not take her eyes off the paper.
I sat down next to her and watched her scribble furiously. Lately her job trying to teach squibs magic had been keeping her more than occupied. I figured this was a good time to bring up my writing project.
"I have to write this really long paper for History Of Magic." I said.
"Oh really?" She asked, her eyes still not grazing.
"Mmmmhhhhmmm. And I have to work with a partner. Eamon Finnegan. " I said sourly.
"Finnegan. I went to school with Seamus Finnegan. Is he related?" My mother said, chewing the tip of her quill.
"I think that's his son, mother." I stated the obvious. "But anyway, the paper is on-"
I lowered my voice.
"-Harry Potter."
She finally looked up.
"Really?" She said in a tone of voice which was meant to sound casual but sounded oh-so fake.
I nodded. "Soooo...I was wondering if I could ask everyone some questions..."
My mother shook her head.
"No, Wisteria. That is a bad idea. He was my best friend, he broke Ginny's heart, he was very close to everyone in this family and you don't want to stir up those emotions again, okay?."
I sighed but nodded. This was going to be harder than I thought.
Half an hour later and we were all finally sitting together at the table, surrounded by food and family. Sure, the potatoes were badly burnt and the gravy a strange consistency, and Sabrina was still sobbing because she didn't get her chocolate frog, but we were together. Except not really. It was times like this that I thought about the missing pieces of the family. The ones that died before I was born; Uncle George and my grandfather, and the ones that simply were not there; my father. Where was he? What was he doing? Why wasn't he here?
"Who wants gravy!" My grandmother shouted as Evelyn, George and Jimmy all reached for it at the same time. Obviously, the start of a fight.
"Hey everyone!" Simone called suddenly from her spot near the head of the long table. We all looked at her.
"I have to write an essay for History of Magic and could use some information. Can I interview you?" she asked plainly.
What a clever way to go about it, Simone. Plain and simple. Until...
"Aunt Ginny. You went out with Harry Potter, right?"
Our red-headed aunt choked on her wine and looked from Simone to me and back again. Drat. She always knows.
"Yes." she said simply, taking a large bite of bread.
My mother coughed loudly and nudged my grandmother, who said suddenly:
"Pie! That's what I forgot! I forgot to take out the pie! Simone, darling would you-"
Simone would have nothing to do with the pie.
"So what happened? Did he just...die?" Even I flinched at this unflattering comment.
"You know what Simone? This really isn't the time or place..." Uncle Bill stated clearly to his daughter. This only encouraged her further.
"Why?" she asked puzzled. "Why don't we talk about him? Hey, why don't we ever talk about Wisteria's dad-"
"That is quite enough young lady." It was my grandmother, an otherwise always kind woman. If she was yelling at Simone, she meant it.
The rest of the dinner was silent sans the food talk; pass the salt or spoon me some potatoes. No conversation went down, and I knew nothing more about Harry Potter.
When I returned to Hogwarts after Christmas break, I was empty handed, and so I most certainly did not want to see Eamon Finnegan. Unfortunately, I did. First day back.
"Wisteria!" he called, almost excitedly from across the Gryffindor Common Room. I shrank down slightly in the puffy chair where I sat by the fire. He found me anyway.
"I got loads of information for our essay! You?" He said.
"Well...about that, I erm, well, it just...it doesn't work. I can't ask my family. They won't bring him up."
He looked at me like I was crazy.
"What are you talking about? My mum gave me loads of information! She said your dad was like his best friend! Why didn't you ask him?"
I bit my lip. "My dad isn't here." I said simply, probably much to simply.
"What do you mean? When is he going to be back?"
"Never. I mean, probably never, I...I've never met him. He left us." I said, not daring to look into his eyes.
"Oh..." He said in the awkward absence of words.
I nodded.
"Yeah so...I really have to erm...go to the library and finish doing something so..."
I quickly got up and ran out of the portrait hole to the library, because, where else was I going to go? Eamon Finnigan was bothering me. This whole essay project was bothering me. I didn't want to know about Harry Potter and I most certainly do not want to know about my father. There. Done. Never think about it again.
Unfortunately that was not a choice, since the next morning when I went down to breakfast, something was different. As I entered the great hall, a mass of heads turned towards me. Was there something in my teeth? I walked briskly over to my usual spot near Simone and sat down.
"What was that for?" I whispered harshly in her ear.
She gave me a solemn look and handed me a Daily Prophet. The next few moment was a blur.
It was my mum's face on the cover, and in the corner of the article was a smaller picture of a face I recognized not from seeing before, but from seeing in the mirror everyday. It was man with a round face, freckles, red hair and blue eyes. It was my father and I knew it.
"-what happened?" I asked Simone breathlessly. For some reason my ability to read had stopped functioning.
"Your mum is missing. They suspect it has something to do with your dad."
I couldn't breathe. My mum was missing...but my dad was missing. My mum was always there, she was always in my life and suddenly this all turns around and-
"Wisteria Weasley." I turned around to see the old Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, standing at the entrance of the great hall and giving me a look of scared courage.
The whole hall was staring again, as I stood up, my face and ears turning scarlet, and approached Professor McGonagall. She didn't say anything to me, only grabbed me by the shoulder and started steering me towards her office. I looked back and caught a last glance of the great hall, and Eamon Finnigan staring at me.