Chapter Thirteen

Fair and Unfair

Matt sat with Bear and Basil in the library, whispering as low as they could so Madam Pince wouldn't come scold them. They appeared to be doing their homework, and indeed they had been, but now they were talking about the latest news from the Prophet about Tyrell. Bear had been disgruntled about doing homework, but she'd settled down into seriousness when the subject came up. Matt didn't want to admit how worried he was, but Basil was very observant and Bear was very tenacious.

"It's just not fair," Matt whispered, ducking his head over his Charms notes when Madam Pince glided by. He peeked up through a fringe of shaggy hair that he hadn't cut since coming to school. "I mean, Dad's still trying to catch the last Death Eater from last time. It doesn't seem right that he's got to go find new ones."

Basil shrugged. "It's not like Voldemort was the only Dark wizard. The Dark Arts still exist, or we wouldn't have to take Professor Smith's class."

"Wouldn't that be nice," Bear muttered, but Basil ignored her.

"Your dad knows that. He decided to be an Auror, and that's his job."

"I don't think he likes it, though," Matt said, suddenly feeling unable to meet his friends' eyes. He felt like he was spilling a dark secret. "I think he just thinks he should."

Bear frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would he think that?"

Matt played with his quill, still not looking up. "You know, like with Voldemort. He was supposed to fight him."

"You mean like destiny or something?"

"Yeah. Like that."

"That still doesn't make sense. I thought it was only Voldemort that he had to fight against."

"It was only Voldemort." Matt decided not to tell them that he'd picked most of this up from hearing his parents argue when he was supposed to be asleep. "Dad just thinks he has to save everybody all the time."

"Yeah, but why him?" Bear objected, unknowingly echoing the heart's cry of Harry Potter's wife and his adopted son. Basil was, for some reason, silent.

Matt dropped his head even lower. "He's good at it," he whispered. "Other people are scared of that stuff, but he knows what to do." He suddenly looked at his friends. "I hate it. Everyone always thinks it should be him. They never ask somebody else to help. Mum said they always ask him because they know he'll never say no."

"It's still his decision," Basil spoke up softly. His usual easygoing manner had vanished. "Matt, your dad isn't stupid."

"I know that," Matt said impatiently. "But that's why I'm so glad that Uncle Remus and Aunt Tonks are here. At least he has somebody to help him now. Usually he's alone, and that's not fair."

Neither of them had anything to say to that. Matt was feeling emboldened by the lack of catastrophe so far.

"I want to help, too. I wish I could go help him look for that guy or something. I could do something. The Aurors are all looking, but I bet I could help."

Basil frowned at him. "Matt, don't be ridiculous. You wouldn't even know where to begin. I get it, that you want to help your dad, but it's dangerous. You don't even know how to defend yourself if you go out there. These people are murderers, Matt."

"Besides, it's stupid," Bear added. "You're just a kid. What are you going to do that they aren't doing already?"

"I don't know," Matt snapped at them, annoyed that they would be so understanding about everything but his desire to help.

"How did your dad get Voldemort, anyway?" Basil asked. "How come he couldn't do that again?"

"I don't know what he did," Matt admitted. "Him and Aunt Hermione don't ever talk about it. People have asked them a million times, but they never tell. I asked Dad why not. He said it was just safer that way. What if Tyrell found out how to become as powerful as Voldemort. He's only killed a few people. Voldemort killed a lot more, and it took a lot of work to stop him."

Basil nodded thoughtfully. "Your dad is really smart."

Matt nodded back, his face sober. "I know. I just don't think being smart is enough when you have to fight other smart people."

Albus Dumbledore could have told them that. But Albus Dumbledore had died to teach that lesson. The three kids didn't know that it was Albus Dumbledore who'd warned Harry of the consequences of revealing the information Harry kept hidden.

---Break---

"I never thought you were paranoid, that's all," she said.

Harry felt himself flinch, and tried to rein in his anger. Her tone said that wasn't "all." And it wasn't paranoia talking, it was experience. He'd been here before, and he was taking measures to head this situation off before he ended up in another war.

"Remus and Tonks were perfectly happy where they were. It's not fair to ask them to give up their lives just because you're irrationally worried."

Harry lost his tight check on his anger. "Ginny, don't you dare," he warned, finally turning around to face her. "Don't call me irrational. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, well, enlighten me, oh Wise One," she snipped. Her eyes were blazing. Harry once again tried to pull his emotions back under control.

"Please don't be like that. I don't want to fight."

"Who's fighting?" Ginny returned, and he felt something in him sigh with weariness. "I would just like you to explain yourself."

Harry held out his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I don't think I'm being paranoid to take precautions. I want to prevent a repeat of the war, not come into the middle of one. I'm seeing some of the same things I saw last time. There's a lot about last time that you didn't see, Ginny. A lot of things that I was up against, and you weren't there for those."

"Whose fault was that?" Ginny snarled, and her face was furious. She'd never forgiven him for pushing her away when he'd left school. She'd wanted to help, she'd wanted to fight, and she hadn't appreciated his chauvinistic protective instinct. Harry thought, though he didn't know for sure, that she was even angry that she hadn't been with her brothers when they'd died. He suspected she thought she would have been the deciding factor that kept them alive, if they'd thought to include. He did admit that Ginny knew how to fight, he'd never denied that—but how could she resent and accuse him, when all he'd wanted was to keep her from having to fight like that? It was ugly, and he didn't want his girlfriend, his fiancee, his wife, involved in this stuff. "Harry, if you want me to understand this, you have to explain it. What are you so afraid of?"

"You know I'm not going to tell you," he sighed. "Not anymore than I was going to tell you last time you asked, or the time before that. That information is dangerous. You knowing it puts you at risk. There are people who would do anything for it. And 'anything' is a terrifying thought to me. You're my wife, and I won't that happen to you. I wish Hermione didn't know it, either. I wish it was just me in danger because of it."

Ginny cried when she was angry, but Harry wasn't entirely sure that the tears now rolling down her cheeks were from anger. "Why you, even?" she squeezed out. "Why do you still have to be the savior, Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes and turned away again. "I don't know," he said hollowly. It seemed like a cop-out answer, but it was completely true. He had no idea what cosmic force had picked him for this, and he didn't want it. But he had it, and he'd dealt with that a long time ago. Ginny couldn't seem to. And it wore him down, dragged his spirits down, to have to rehash it so often. "It just is me, Sunshine. I can't help that, so I have to accept it."

"I don't want you to accept it!" she screamed. "Why won't you just admit it's not fair? Why do you keep it to yourself all the time? I'm your wife, Harry, and I want you to share yourself with me! I want to know your feelings! I have the right to that! I'm not here just to make babies for you!"

"I know that!" he snapped. "Why won't you get it through your head that I'm protecting you? I'm not doing this just to piss you off, I—"

"Are you even listening? That's not what I'm talking—Sirius, what are you doing out of bed?"

Sirius stood in the doorway with wide eyes and his arm clutched around a stuffed dragon that Charlie had given him. "I can't go to sleep," he said in an uncertain voice. "It's really loud."

"We're sorry, baby," Ginny said. "We'll be quiet so you can sleep, okay?"

Sirius didn't move. He looked at Harry. "Are you mad at Mum?"

Harry knelt down on the floor and let Sirius dash into his arms. "I am a little bit," he said. "And Mum's a little bit mad at me, too. But it's okay, because we just need to talk. We'll feel better soon."

Ginny snorted, and Harry gave her a glare over the top of Crash's head. "That's right," she added. "Once we get finished talking."

Harry knew they had very different ideas on when they'd be finished talking, but he wasn't about to let her wear him down. He'd made the right decision in the amount of information he kept to himself, and Ginny being his wife didn't change that. If anything, it made his resolution stronger. It gave him that much more reason to keep her safe. He wondered, not for the first time, if Hermione had gone to Canada to be away from him. Her burden of knowledge had been as great as his, and it was always weighing on them when they were together. Harry even thought she might resent him for being alive when Ron was dead. Well, that he understood. He sometimes resented himself for that. That he'd allowed his two friends to come with him, let them make the choice to put themselves in danger. He could have refused. He could have pushed them away like he did with Ginny. But he wasn't entirely sure he could deal with three people feeling this angry with him. He wasn't always able to deal with just Ginny.

Sirius was pulling off his glasses. He always pulled silly antics when he was worried or upset, and now he put on Harry's glasses, giggling while they slid down his nose and nearly fell off. He pushed them back up and held them in place.

"Everything looks funny," he said. "You look funny," he informed his father.

Harry smiled indulgently. "I bet I'm all blurry."

"What's blurry?" Crash wondered, but tilted his head, looking around the room. He looked at his mother, and stopped giggling. "Mum, how come you're crying?"

Harry got a very queer feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Crash, didn't you see her crying when you came in?"

"No," he said without concern.

Harry caught his breath. He pointed across the kitchen to the note he'd left on the bulletin board to let Ginny know he wouldn't be home for dinner. "Can you see the letters on that?" he asked. Crash couldn't read yet, but he knew his alphabet.

He nodded agreeably. "I-H-A-V-E-T-O-W-O-R-K," he began, then Harry pulled the glasses off.

"Can you see the letters now?"

The little boy shook his head. "Did you make them disappear with magic?" he asked curiously, looking for evidence of Harry's wand.

"No," Harry said, and he put his glasses back on to look at Ginny. She met his gaze with a shocked look. He patted his son's head and held onto him, feeling unbelievably stupid for never thinking of this before. "Don't worry, though. You're going to be able to see a lot of things soon."