Harry was very glad to be standing alone in the scullery, away from the action. He was stuffing vol-au-vents by hand, and Mrs. Weasley had insisted that he wear an apron, a bright, flowered affair that covered him from neck to knees. It served its intended purpose but made him feel quite absurd in the process.
As expected, the plans for a "small party" had expanded by leaps and bounds to include place settings for twenty-five, dozens of blue and yellow balloons emblazoned with the number 1, four main courses, thirteen side dishes that included seven pounds of sprouts, twelve bottles of elf-made wine, four cases of butterbeer, two of pumpkin juice, and fifteen dozen hors d'oeuvres. Since he had walked through the door at ten to five, the Burrow kitchen had been working non-stop.
"Oh, there you are!" he heard Mrs. Weasley say loudly as the door opened. "Good. Go out and shut the chickens away, people will be coming soon!"
"But--" he heard George's voice protesting as the door closed once again.
Fleur breezed through the curtain that separated the kitchen from the narrow scullery, a ruffled toile apron over her dress and her hair pulled back in an elaborate chignon. Her hands were caked with what looked like bread crumbs, and there was a smudge of flour on her nose. On her, it looked charming.
"'arry, 'ow are you doing with zee canapés?" she asked, peering over his shoulder. "'ou are almost done, oui?" He heard a slightly panicked note in her voice.
"Yeah. Almost." he said, poking mushroom and cheese into the tiny hole cut in the top of the pastry. "How's it going out there?"
"Oh, eet will be close. Zee guests will be arriving very soon." she said, pulling a box of baker's yeast off the shelf next to him. "Let me know when 'ou are done, zere are a few more t'ings zat need to be done to zee table."
"All right." he agreed as she hurried back out into the kitchen proper. His supply of filling was almost exhausted, and there were only a few more shells left. He was just finishing the last one when someone moved into the room behind him once more.
He turned, expecting Fleur again, and felt his heart shudder as he found himself bare inches from Ginny. "Oh," he said, trying to sound relaxed, "hi. When did you get here?"
"Only just." she replied with an incredibly feeble attempt at a smile. "McGonagall didn't want me Apparating down here by myself, so I had to wait for her."
"McGonagall's here?"
"In the kitchen." she said, and then unexpectedly climbed up onto the countertop.
"Do you want me to get that?" he asked, watching as she straightened up cautiously and reached for a large stoneware platter on the topmost shelf. He tried not to think that he could have seen clear up her skirt from this angle, had he been so inclined.
"No thanks." she replied, taking hold of the dish. After a moment of indecision, she leaned over and braced her hand on his shoulder, looking less than thrilled as he put his hand on her waist and helped guide her down.
A glimmer of gold caught his eye as she landed lightly on the floor. "You're still wearing your necklace." he said, not even trying to disguise the incredulity in his voice.
Her hand pressed to her throat, where the rest of the Celtic knot necklace was presumably hidden beneath her blouse. The platter almost slipped from her grasp. "Oh. Yeah, I guess." She flushed as he looked at her in wonder. Then, without further comment, she turned and rushed out of the room.
Before he had the chance to get his thoughts together, Mrs. Weasley burst through the curtain and swept the appetizers onto a large tray, shouting directions over her shoulder all the while. She shooed him into the sitting room to put napkins at each place setting. He gladly shed the flowered apron and slipped through the crowded kitchen and into the relative quiet of the living room.
All of the regular furniture had been removed, and, in its place, three long tables had been pushed together in a T shape. Twenty-five mismatched chairs were set up around the tables, which were covered in heavy white cloths and set with enough plates and utensils for half a house table. Clouds of balloons hung in each corner of the room, and enchanted candles hovered near the ceiling and along the mantelpiece above the fireplace. A sizeable stack of wrapped gifts and a veritable army of beverage bottles sat on a narrow sideboard that was pushed against the far wall. There was barely room to move, but Harry travelled slowly around the tables, folding blue napkins into triangles on each plate.
"No ice sculptures, sadly."
He looked up. Ron stood just inside the doorway that separated the kitchen from the sitting room, looking supremely hassled as he shut the door behind him.
"Unfortunately. When did you get here?"
"I've been. George and I left Verity to close up and came over right at five. Mum's had me wrapping gifts up in Percy's old room ever since."
"You mean there's more?" he asked, shooting a glance at the already significant pile on the table. It reminded him of Dudley's birthdays.
"Yeah, mate, you'd think this kid--"
"Ron!" The door opened and Mrs. Weasley appeared over his shoulder, dishtowels slung over each shoulder for reasons that were not readily apparent to Harry. "Ron, one of the cats sicked up on the back steps. Could you clean it, please?"
Ron turned from his mother to Harry, a look of affronted disbelief on his face. He looked back at his mother, who smiled sweetly and flicked one of her dishtowels at him. "Thank you, love. Hurry now, before the guests start to arrive."
Harry was left smiling to himself as Ron drifted back through the door after Mrs. Weasley, presumably to mop up cat vomit. He was creasing a napkin into something that greatly resembled a bicorne hat when a methodical knock at the front door interrupted him. Momentarily confused, as most visitors to The Burrow came through the stable door in the kitchen, he realized that it must be a stray party guest. He dodged furniture on the way to the door, finally swinging it open.
The woman that stood on the other side of the door was half hidden beneath a hooded cloak. Despite this, he instantly recognized the fair blonde hair and even paler face. The woman that stood in front of him was Narcissa Malfoy. Harry blinked repeatedly, certain that this must be some sort of hallucination.
She pushed back the hood and looked evenly at him, finally saying, in a surprisingly quiet voice, "Have I arrived too early?"
"Ear-early?" he stammered.
She looked at him enquiringly. "For the party?"
"I… no." he answered, remembering now that, as Mrs. Tonks' sister, she must have been invited. But surely Mrs. Weasley would have mentioned that?
When he made no move to step back and admit her into The Burrow, she drew herself up to her full height and asked, "May I come in?"
Wordlessly, he stepped back, watching with astonishment as Malfoy's mother stepped into the sitting room. Now he noticed that she held something in her hand, a small wrapped gift that he realized must be for Teddy. He looked from it back up to her face, which was not as he remembered. It was fuller now, less sharp angles and no deep shadows beneath the eyes. Her expression was strange, impassive, but she didn't wear the same sneer that characterized her son's features.
Behind him, the kitchen door opened and Mrs. Weasley bustled in with an enormous plate of cocktail snacks.
"Did I hear the-- oh!" She stopped short, looking surprised to see the blonde woman in her living room. Harry felt an odd sort of vertigo as she continued. "Well, I suppose I did hear the door. Welcome. I'm so… pleased that you could make it. Harry, could you take Mrs. Malfoy's wrap?"
"Sure." he croaked, still rooted to the spot with his hand on the doorknob. Narcissa unfastened her cloak and handed it to Harry, who had finally regained enough sense to charge out of the sitting room with it, leaving the two witches in awkward silence.
The kitchen was even more swarming than when he'd gone through the first time. Fleur was glazing a mammoth side of pork while Ginny stirred a pot of gravy at the oven beside her. Hermione was frosting a large cake while, oddly enough, Professor McGonagall was standing with Bill in the corner of the room, helping him fill stacks of glasses with wine. The back door opened, and Mr. Weasley, Percy, George and Ron trouped inside.
"Where should I put this?" Harry asked, holding the cloak away from his body as though it smelled bad.
"Oh, has someone shown up?" Bill looked up. "You can put it up on the bed in my old room, there'll be a whole lot before the night's out."
"Oi, who used the front door?" Ron asked with vague interest, leaning across the worktop and taking a long pull from the wine bottle while no one else was looking.
"Narcissa Malfoy."
All action in the room ceased for a second, everyone turning to him and looking astonished. A lump of gravy fell from Ginny's spoon, landing thickly on the cook top. Dark red wine spilled from the bottle Ron held in the vicinity of his open mouth and down the front of his jumper.
At that moment, Mrs. Weasley came back into the kitchen, smiling peculiarly. "Bill, dear, can you bring Mrs. Malfoy a glass of wine?" she asked. "And Ron, what have you done to yourself? Go change, love, the guests are already starting to arrive."
"Wow, Mum, you didn't mention you'd be inviting a contingent of Death--"
"Stow it, Ron." Bill said, shooting his brother a significant look as he took a full glass of wine and headed for the sitting room.
Soon, the Burrow was stuffed to the gills with people. Almost every seat in the sitting room was full, and Harry was pleased to see many people he hadn't spoken to in a long while. Mrs. Figg had come, and Harry took great pleasure in hearing her story about the new set of golf clubs Uncle Vernon had acquired over Christmas, and his penchant for taking putting practice in the front yard. He had done so much damage to the grass, she said with a very demonstrative laugh, he'd been forced to trim it to an absurdly short length.
Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle were there as well, and were able to appreciate the idea of Uncle Vernon knocking clods out of earth out of his own lawn almost as much as Harry was. Sturgis Podmore, whom Harry had not seen since arriving at Grimmauld Place that first night, was there as well, though he did not speak much, except to Professor McGonagall. The Delacours and Gabrielle were also present, and were currently carrying on a conversation with Fleur and Bill, all in rapid-fire French.
Harry took care not to say too much to Elphias Doge, who looked even older and rheumier than he had at Bill and Fleur's wedding. He looked especially out of place sitting next to Narcissa Malfoy, who was silently observing the goings-on with a slightly haughty expression on her face. She seemed especially interested in watching Ron and Hermione, who were laughing with Mr. Weasley and Percy. Hagrid and George were deep in conversation, bursting into loud, raucous laughter from time to time. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley drifted back and forth from the table to the kitchen, checking on dinner and refilling drinks.
He was just settling into his seat between Hagrid and Ron when Andromeda and Teddy arrived, to much applause. Teddy, who had at first looked startled by all of the noise and the people, soon warmed to the idea of a party. He allowed himself to be passed around and exclaimed over, finally coming to a rest in an empty seat at the head of the table, surrounded by gifts and balloons, which he batted at with delight.
The room went still as Andromeda and Narcissa embraced awkwardly. It was the first time that Harry had seen them together, and noticed with surprise that they rather resembled each other, though their colouring was very different.
"It's so nice to have you here to celebrate with us." Andromeda said kindly.
"Thank you. It's very kind of you to have me." Narcissa replied, looking not at her sister but out at the sitting room as though waving a white flag above her head.
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Mrs. Weasley jumped to her feet and proclaimed dinner to be ready, though the trays of hors d'oeuvres were still half-full. In the chaos that followed, of flying roast and hovering dishes of mash and Mrs. Weasley directing at all with her wand like some crazed Muggle air-traffic controller, Harry noticed that Andromeda took her place next to Teddy at the head of the table and looked pleased. Meanwhile, Mrs. Malfoy settled back into her seat between Elphias Doge and Monsieur Delacour, and Harry swore that she looked as though she may cry. Before he could be certain, though, she turned her head so that her long blonde hair obscured her face.
A few minutes later, when dishes and bowls full of food were perched on every available surface and everyone's glasses were full, Mrs. Weasley finally sat back down. She raised her own wine glass towards Teddy, who was gleefully gnawing on the end of a spoon. Then she announced that, before they began, would everyone please be still a moment while Harry gave a toast?
"Me?" Harry said, dismayed. This hadn't been discussed.
"Yes, dear. You're his godfather." Mrs. Weasley replied, with the kind of motherly smile she turned on her children when she asked them to do something unpleasant. All eyes were on him now, and he felt like a great prat as he climbed to his feet. Ron and George both smirked up at him, and he would have been wholly blissful if the floor had opened up and swallowed him up.
"Boy Who Lived!" Ron jeered in the silence, and Hermione cut him off with a scowl and a swift elbow to the ribs.
Harry ignored Ron and turned to face the blue-haired baby at the head of the table, who was now sitting on Mrs. Tonks' lap and stretching his wet fingers towards a basket of bread well beyond his grasp. He cleared his throat and tried to think how best to toast a one-year-old.
"Uh, thank you all for coming tonight, to celebrate Teddy's birthday." he said lamely, feeling his cheeks burn. A slow, sarcastic clap came from George's direction, and was swiftly quelled by a sharp look from Mrs. Weasley. "Well, um, it's very… nice that he has so many people that care about him." Mrs. Tonks caught his eye, and she nodded. He took a breath. "We all know what's happened in the first twelve months of Teddy's life; there isn't a need to mention it again on an occasion like this. But there's something to be said for family and friends, and everyone here fits into one of those categories. So let's take tonight to wish him well on his journey through life. Happy birthday, Teddy, and many more."
"Teddy!" Mrs. Weasley said loudly, and everyone else joined in. "Teddy!"
Teddy looked up at the sound of his name and grinned, showing off the four teeth in the front of his mouth. Harry couldn't help but smile as well as he sipped his butterbeer. His godson was indeed a loveable child.
"Oi, where do you get this stuff?" Ron whispered as Harry sat back down.
"Oh, don't listen to him, Harry, that was very nice." Hermione said, shooting Ron an exasperated look.
"Yeah, yeah." Harry grumbled good-naturedly, dishing himself up a very large serving of roasted sweet potatoes.
"'twas a very nice speech, Harry. Can you pass me summat?" Hagrid asked, leaning over and pointing one generously proportioned finger towards a plate of sausage. Harry obliged.
Dinner passed uneventfully amidst the sounds of six or seven different conversations. Hagrid was keen to talk about Hogwarts and the rebuilding process, especially since being made Head of Gryffindor house. Harry tried valiantly to focus on his jovial, rambling descriptions of wall fortification and re-planting grass and expanding the Care of Magical Creatures to include guest lessons from Grawp, but found himself sneaking glances down the table at Ginny. She was sitting between Percy and Mr .Weasley and seemed to be in a particularly bad mood, scowling down at her plate and sawing her food apart with more force than was necessary.
Eventually Hagrid noticed. "Oi, Harry, what d'ya keep…. Oh." he said, following his gaze. "I see." He winked knowingly. "I getcha."
Later on, when most of the food was gone and the wine was flowing freely, Harry saw his opportunity. "Everything all right?" he asked, grabbing an empty dish and following Ginny into the kitchen as she carried what remained of the roast chicken from the table.
She shot him a murderous look. "Fine."
"Right. What's wrong?"
"And why do you care all of a sudden?"
"What does that mean? You're my friend."
This was apparently not the right thing to say. She slammed the dish into the sink with a crash. Soapy water flew all over the worktop and the window overlooking the garden.
"Whoa, careful." said a voice behind them. Bill was balancing a stack of plates in his hands as he entered the kitchen. Ginny glared at both of them, then marched out the back door. After a moment's indecision, Harry followed.
The night was chilly and very dark, the night sky shrouded in clouds. He hurried down the steps and out into the garden, where Ginny was a pale blur in the dark, standing with her back to him. He came to a stop just behind her.
"What's gotten into you?"
She laughed bitterly. "Right, well, seeing as how we're friends, I guess I should just tell you all of my problems, right?"
"You can if you want."
"Oh, terrific. I have all the friends I need, but thanks anyway."
It took a valiant effort to keep the anger out of his voice, but it still crept up a few decibels. "Why are you acting like this?" For a half a second, he paused, then said the words that had been on the tip of his tongue since that day in the Gryffindor locker room. "It wasn't my idea to break up, you know."
She spun around so fast that he shielded his face with his hands in self-defence. "It might not have been your idea, but you certainly wasted no time moving on!"
"What do you mean?"
"Katie!" she spat.
He shook his head. "How is that any different than whats-his-name… Ritchie?"
"Ritchie? Ritchie Coote? Are you mental?" she snapped, sounding extraordinarily like Ron. "You know what, forget it, I don't need this right now. Just leave me alone, Harry. Just…." Instead of finishing her sentence, she turned her back on him and headed for the house. He watched, trounced, as she stomped up the stairs and into The Burrow, almost knocking Bill over in the process.
The eldest Weasley brother came down into the garden and made his way slowly over to where Harry stood, hands in his pockets. "Okay?' he asked mildly.
"Great." he answered acrimoniously, pushing his glasses furiously up his nose and staring daggers at the place she had last been.
"I believe that." Bill answered, a smile in his tone.
"Why do they have to be like that?"
"You mean women?"
"Yeah. And barking mad."
He chuckled. "The nature of the beast, I suppose."
"Does it get any easier?"
"Nope. Gets harder, in fact."
Harry looked over a Bill. "You're joking."
"Of course I'm not. You know my mum."
He considered. This was true. "So what do I do?"
Bill shrugged. "What can you do? As I told Ron, who was ready to fly up to Hogwarts and give Ginny a right thumping when you two broke off, if it's meant to happen, it will."
"I hate answers like that." Harry said, finding himself reminded of Dumbledore.
"I know, I know. Master of your own fate." Bill said, the humour all but gone from his voice. "But some things you can't control, no matter how hard you fight. And unfortunately, that includes my sister."
Without meaning to, Harry sighed heavily. He thought he'd had it all figured out, had seen all the lines drawn in the dirt. But it seemed now to be unravelling, even as he tried to create some semblance of order.
After a minute or two, Bill rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You've been through a lot, Harry, especially in the past few years. But you're still young. Take some time to enjoy that. Godric knows you deserve it."
"Thanks." he said, but even in his own ears he sounded miserable.
"I'd sleep very well at night if Ginny Weasley became Ginny Potter. Give her some time. I think she might come around."
"Thanks." he said again, but meant it.
"Any time." A crow called in the distance, and they both turned to look. Once it was quiet again, Bill continued. "So, Faustina Preston tells me that you're doing very well."
"You talk to Auror Preston?"
He nodded. "Sometimes. I saw her at Gringotts last week, that's when she told me that she's quite pleased with your work."
"That's surprising. She doesn't usually say anything to me." Other than swearing loudly when I'm not paying attention, he thought to himself.
"Do you like her?"
"She's… tough."
He grinned. "Always was, even at school."
"I do like her though. She's very fair."
"Good, good. You're learning from the best."
Something about this reminded Harry of what she had told him on that day they went out to Dartmoor, when they had been sitting in her office. "Did you know that her father was an Auror before her?"
His nod was barely visible in the darkness. "Yes. He had to retire after he was blinded in the line of duty."
"She said it happened when a group of Death Eaters kidnapped her mother."
"I remember that. Dad thought that, afterwards, Mr. Preston would pack them up and leave England altogether, but he didn't. She started Hogwarts that September, a year ahead of me."
"You knew her at school?"
"More by reputation than by name, but she played Quidditch for a few years back when I did, and was a prefect when I was."
"Was she a Gryffindor?"
"No. Slytherin."
"Slytherin?!"
"Does that surprise you?"
"A bit."
He smiled. "Determined, clever, ruthless… aren't these all words you'd use to describe Faustina Preston?"
"And then some."
"Dad always thought that perhaps that's why the Death Eaters were out for the family, because of the Slytherin connection, but personally I don't buy it. There's hundreds of 'em that didn't become Death Eaters. No, I think it was something else."
"Out for the family? What do you mean?"
"Well, besides what happened to her mother and father, they killed that Muggle she was going to marry, Harold or Henry or something."
Harry remembered the picture in her office, of the handsome man with mirrored sunglasses and dark hair. What was it she had said? Death Eaters killed him and a group of Muggles while they were in Wales, working on a bridge in the mountains. I was on assignment in Turkey at the time. "I thought that… I didn't know it had anything to do with her."
"Well, no one knows for sure. The official word was that they were targeted because they were Muggles, but the fact that it was Preston's fiancé didn't go unnoticed. Didn't you ever wonder why you never saw her around the Ministry before?"
Harry thought of this. He had never heard of her before Kingsley had introduced her to the class, yet she had years of experience as an Auror. "Now that you mention it, you're right."
Bill nodded. "She was always chasing Dark wizards through Tunisia or Amsterdam or Peru, or something like that. Very rarely did she work here at home. When the Ministry fell, she went into hiding in Italy, probably the only reason she wasn't killed. But she still managed to help the Order out a few times."
"I didn't know." he said slowly. There was something twitching in the back of his mind, something he couldn't place. Before he could dwell too much on it, though, the Burrow door opened and a figure was momentarily silhouetted in the light from the kitchen.
Ron closed the door and hurried and rubbed his hands briskly. "I was wondering where you two sods had gotten to. What are you doing out here?"
"Eh, talking shop." Bill said. "Auror stuff. What's my wife up to?"
"Fussing all over Teddy, just like all the other women. He passed out asleep on the table, but not before he spilled ice cream on Malfoy's mum." He snorted. "Clever little tot, isn't he, gumming up the enemy."
"Mum invited her, you know." Bill said.
"And what's that about? She could have at least mentioned it to us beforehand, Harry just about had a heart attack when he opened the door, I bet, having her skulking around on the doorstep."
He shrugged. "Andromeda says she's changed."
"Yeah, well, Hagrid says Dung's changed, but that doesn't mean I trust him."
Harry pictured the bleary-eyed, stringy-haired form of Mundungus Fletcher. He didn't think it would ever be possible to trust someone like him, no matter how many rumours of reformation reached his ears.
"Anyway," Ron continued, "You'd think Mum would be awkward about it, too. I mean, it was 'cause of her that her nutter of a sister popped her clogs."
"Bellatrix was Andromeda's sister as well."
"But they didn't go about together, did they? You didn't see Andromeda hanging out at Malfoy Manor when they had us locked in the cellar." An edge had crept into his voice, and Harry felt a shiver in his spine at the words. That had seemed like a very long time ago.
No one spoke for a long moment. Bill eventually broke the silence. "These are strange times."
"No kidding." Ron grunted.
"It'll be interesting to see what happens." He shook his head. "Anyway, let me go tear my wife away from the festivities. I have to go to Cairo tomorrow, early." Bill said, and Harry and Ron followed him back inside.
The party was now split between two rooms. In the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley, Hestia Jones, Professor McGonagall and Andromeda Tonks were all standing at the sideboard with glasses of wine, laughing about something. Narcissa Malfoy stood a few paces away, sipping at her own glass with a hint of a smile on her face. Over on the other side of the kitchen, Mr. Weasley was showing something that looked an awful lot like a surge protector to Percy and Monsieur Delacour, who both wore polite smiles of feigned interest. He waved as they passed through and went into the other room.
"Well," Bill said, stopping short just inside the doorway, "There's something I thought I'd never see."
Ron and Harry looked around him. Sitting at the head of the table, surrounded by females, was George, holding a sleeping Teddy Lupin securely in his arms. Hermione sat next to him, her hand on George's shoulder and a rather smug smile on her face. They watched, amused, as the blue-haired baby shifted in George's grasp, yawned, and was still again. At the other end of the table, Hagrid, Dedalus Diggle and Sturgis Podmore were playing a very quiet card game in deference to the sleeping infant.
"All right, all right." George said quietly, looking down at Teddy with an indecipherable expression on his face. "My arm's starting to go numb, someone else can hold him now."
"Oh, I will take 'im!" Fleur said, gazing rapturously down at the baby. She eased him out of George's arms and into her own and, like a reflex, began cooing at him in soft French. At her elbow, Gabrielle beamed down at Teddy, who seemed oblivious to the hand-off.
"He didn't even get the chance to open his gifts."
Harry looked up. Andromeda Tonks had come in behind them and was smiling fondly at the little boy in Fleur's arms. She looked very relaxed, perhaps even happy. It had been a long time since he'd seen her look anything but haunted. It pleased him to see her so calm, but in a bittersweet way. Were they all forgetting?
"Do you think he had a good time?" he asked, pushing the other thoughts out of his head.
"Oh, yes, I think he had a marvellous time. He loves to be around people." She turned to Harry. "Thank you for this. It really was wonderful."
"I didn't do much, it was mostly Mrs. Weasley's doing."
She smiled. "While this does have Molly written all over it-- especially the overabundance of food-- she told me that you had a fair hand in it as well. And we thank you."
"You're welcome. If I'm going to be his godfather, I ought to be a good one."
"And you are."
Narcissa Malfoy appeared at Andromeda's side, her travelling cloak laying over her arm. "Thank you for having me, sister, but I should be going home now." she said quietly.
"Of course." Andromeda replied, folding her into a tight embrace. "Thank you so much for coming. Your presence means so much to Teddy and I. I'm sure it must have been difficult for you."
"My comfort means little when compared to family." She focused her blue eyes on Harry. "Have a good evening, Mr. Potter."
"And you too, Mrs. Malfoy." he replied, surprised. He watched as Mrs. Tonks walked her to the front door.
Ron made a low retching sound on his other side as Narcissa Malfoy slipped out the front door of the Burrow. "'Have a good evening, Mr. Potter.'" he mimicked in a self-aggrandizing, over-enunciated accent. "What the bloody hell is going on in that woman's head, do you imagine?"
"Quite a lot, I expect."
They both looked up. Hermione had vacated her seat next to George and was now approaching them. "And keep your voice down, Ron, I can hear you across the room."
"Oh, look who finally decided to join us." he said, ignoring her admonishment. "What did you have to threaten my brother with to make him hold that baby?"
A blush crept into her cheeks, but she smiled in a self-satisfied way. "I told him I'd go into the kitchen right now and tell your mother."
"And he believed you?" Harry asked.
"I don't know if he believed me so much as he wasn't fully convinced that I wouldn't. Anyway, what of it? He needs the practice."
The party was beginning to break up, and they couldn't really carry on much of a conversation due to all the good-byes. First, Bill and Fleur left, after he was able to prise her away from Teddy. Then Sturgis Podmore left, followed soon after by Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge. Mrs. Figg and Hestia Jones left together, and then the Delacours. Mrs. Tonks and Teddy were next, after Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had packed all of Teddy's unopened gifts into a small flour sack. It made a sound like tumbling rocks when Andromeda tucked it under her free arm.
Harry had every intention of staying to help clean up, but Mrs. Weasley came after him with a dish cloth. "Please, Harry," she said, pulling a pair of dirty glasses from his hands. "Go home now, dear, you have to be at work in the morning."
"So do I!" George protested from the corner of the room, where he was standing on a chair and unfastening balloons from the ceiling.
"I know you do, George." Mrs. Weasley said over her shoulder. "But you didn't set the table for twenty-five and then stuff sixty vol-au-vents by hand."
He turned back to the balloons, muttering under his breath. Mrs. Weasley faced Harry once again with a smile. "We can handle it from here, dear. Thank you for everything." She pulled him into a tight, motherly hug, the wineglasses clinking together in protest near his ear. "Go home and relax."
After his own round of good-byes, in which Ginny had completely ignored him, Hagrid had gotten teary, and McGonagall had shaken his hand crisply and asked if he'd like for her to owl him a N.E.W.T. study guide, Harry was Apparating back to the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. He was tired, and looking forward immensely to climbing into his bed and falling deeply asleep. Instead, when he appeared outside his front door, he tripped over a blonde figure who was sitting on the steps in the cold, turning the pages of a magazine with her gloved fingers.
"Hi, Harry." Katie said brightly. "Hope you don't mind that I stopped by. I was in the area, and wanted to finally see the house."
"Of course not." he said, groaning inwardly, then touched his wand to the silver serpent in the middle of the door and pushing it open. "After you."
Author's Note: Had some trouble with this chapter, even though I'd been looking forward to writing it and it went through a few revisions. Hagrid is really difficult to write, I had to take out a bunch of paragraphs out of the dinner part because it sounded ridiculous. The rest of it didn't come together exactly how I wanted it, but I can't pinpoint exactly what doesn't please me. Uhhh... happy belated birthday, America.
Anyway, next week is a Ron chapter, which I'm looking forward to. He's fun to write.
Thank you all for your great response to Spring thus far, I do hope you continue to enjoy it. When I checked my email on Monday to find 47 favorites and alerts and reviews, I was totally blown away. Special thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter: AnkokuSama, Strawberry-Swirls, cinroc, Gray Eyes Beauty, Hyperlily, snaplappl21, crystalight22, smushly, WaffleNinja and Jasperella.