16

December seemed to be moving in slow motion. Despite the fact it felt like weeks since Harry had been found out by Ginny when, reality showed it had in actual fact been only two days. She woke up rather early, feeling queasy and feeling as if she could do with more sleep – although she was not actually tired. In a rare occasion, she rose from her bed earlier than both her parents and pulled extra clothing on to keep warm as she made her way downstairs. The edition of The Daily Prophet from the other day with the article on Harry was sitting on the table: several times it had been thrown in the rubbish bin by someone, only to be retrieved shortly afterwards by someone else, wanting to make sure it really had happened.

Ginny thought of it as silly, to keep something as useless and unwanted as this lying around; but she too had been guilty of throwing it out and hastily retrieving it to make sure she hadn't dreamt it all. Her mother was worse; Ginny had caught her at it on a handful of occasions during meal times, and god only knows how often it happened while Ginny was up in her room – which coincidentally, was every other minute of the day.

She glanced at it briefly, feeling her stomach wrench at the sight of Harry standing there posing casually for the photo with the Minister at his side. She had thrown it the length of the table just before her mother came barging in, dressed in her night gown and halting on the spot at the sight of her daughter; she looked quite surprised. Ginny let Harry wander from her mind and shared a brief, happy smile with her mother.

'Good morning.' Ginny said as brightly as she could, although she feared it might have come out sounding slightly sarcastic.

'Ginny,' her mother whispered, striding forward with a worried look upon her face. 'You're up so early, is something wrong?'

'Besides the obvious,' Ginny stated, 'I'm fine-'

'Oh Ginny,' Molly embraced her.

There was a pause. Now that she thought about it, Ginny had not really had an in-dept conversation with her mother about Harry since his upturned concealment - and Ginny wondered if this might be it.

'I know.' Molly said as she pulled back. 'Maybe today, do you suppose?'

Molly withdrew her wand and moved around the table and began bewitching pots and pans from their cupboards while Ginny, turning in her seat to look at her mother, was confused.

'What?' Ginny asked.

'Sorry?' Molly turned to look at her daughter with a blank expression; she seemed to have put down her wand and instead was holding up a spatular.

'Maybe what, today?' Ginny asked.

'Oh.' Molly stood upright. 'Well I just thought that- well I know it's a touchy subject dear but, this news about Harry has affected all of us and- well I just hope he explains himself soon…'

There was a strange moment where Molly brandished the spatular, expecting the stove to turn on and the pancake mixture to start mixing itself. She gave a false, awkward laugh, retrieved her real wand and repeated the spell.

'But that note Ron sent…' Ginny started.

'We were all thinking the same that day,' Molly replied, successful pancakes were beginning to bubble, 'I eavesdropped on Ron and Hermione the other day, they were saying too that Harry might not bother, now that there's little hope-'

'Eavesdropping, mother?' Ginny asked, utterly befuddled.

'Yes well,' Molly turned a shade of scarlet. 'I have your brothers to thank for that- at first it seemed rather rude but, they came in handy during the war and well…'

'Extendable Ears?' Ginny said, sounding slightly impressed.

'Look that doesn't matter,' Molly went on, rapidly changing the subject, 'all we can really do is hope that our newspaper, when delivered by owl this morning, bears some good news-'

'But it won't.' Ginny said hotly, now sitting up on her knees, 'if Harry is under the impression that we don't WANT his explanation, then how is he suppose to-'

She stopped mid-sentence; Arthur had come striding into the kitchen, his travelling cloak already on and his briefcase was swinging at his side and like Molly had done, he stopped abruptly at the sight of his daughter sitting there at the table.

'Ginny,' Arthur said in a slight shock, looking around at his wife. 'Is everything alright down here?'

'Fine.' Molly and Ginny said in unison.

It wasn't a lie, yet Arthur looked at them both strangely before moving to the opposite end of the table from Ginny and sitting down. With an audible 'ah, here we are,' he reached forward and picked up the old edition of The Daily Prophet with a smile on his face. As soon as he had flipped it the right way up, however, he seem to sink low in his chair as he saw the familiar caption upon the front.

'No owl's this morning yet, Arthur.' Molly said from her position at the stove, not looking around.

'Right.' Arthur nodded and casually threw the older newspaper aside; it landed softly atop the old pile of even older magazines in which were a wide range of remedies and recipes that Molly had kept over the years.

'I must say though,' Molly said, putting out plates upon the table, 'they seem to be getting slower by the day, delivering those wretched newspapers-'

'It's those lazy button pushers they got working at The Daily Prophet,' Arthur said in outburst, he seemed glad to change the subject also, 'complaints are sent in left right and centre to the Ministry, of course we don't handle small insignificant things such as that – but its caused such uproar lately. There have even been words floating around: about devoting a Department for it-'

'Arthur-' Molly started.

'I know dear, I'm sorry,' Arthur said, 'but it's down right ludicrous. We still believe the aftermath of the war has not yet passed, signs of Dark Arts are rare now, but they still happen and the Ministry needs to have full alert on such matters-'

'No Arthur.' Molly interrupted, pointing to the window. 'It's the paper-'

But Ginny had already gotten up from her chair; Arthur and Molly watched as she crossed to the window and opened it hurriedly. The owl hooted appreciatively and jumped inside, holding out its leg in which the paper was clumsily tied too. She dispensed the five Knuts into the pouch, untied the paper and just as hurriedly slammed the window shut as the owl flew off. She unfolded it, and there was a pause as she stared at the front of it – her mother and father shared a concerned glare – and then Ginny casually dropped the paper onto her fathers lap.

'Cannons won,' Ginny said lazily as she sat back on her seat; she was of course referring to the Quidditch team the Chudley Cannons. 'Didn't you have a bet with Mundungus on that, dad?'

'WHAT?' Molly, who had turned to continue breakfast when there had been no significant reaction from her daughter, span back around in a heartbeat – staring down her husband.

'I-' Arthur winced.

'Arthur!' Molly spat, pointing the spatular at him. 'Is that true?'

'Well I-' Arthur looked around at Ginny, who was looking in the other direction and said nothing. 'Odds were short, dear; the Cannons were missing their good seeker and their best keeper and-'

'You know how I feel about betting on silly little things like that,' Molly hissed, pancake mixture was flying off the spatular.

'I won the bet though, Molly,' Arthur said, checking the scores, 'three hundred and seventy to three hundred. Mung owes me a fair b-'

'Arthur!' Molly snapped, her eyes were narrowed, 'the man has been in Azkaban! He has a record! You know better than to meddle with people like Mun-'

'Mum, the pancakes are burning,' Ginny interjected, looking over her mothers shoulder as light smoke began to rise steadily from the pan.

Molly managed to save them in time and handed Ginny a fair helpings, while she gave Arthur fewer than she would normally; if he noticed, he didn't complain. Though while Arthur was leaving for work, after giving Ginny a kiss on the forehead, he received a rather cold and empty 'goodbye, Arthur,' from Molly and he simply disapparated.

Ginny left rather hurriedly after that, afraid that her mother might press the subject for more information in such a bad mood. So after giving Ron and Hermione the heads up as they made their way downstairs, she went up and retired, once again, to the confines of her room. She had hoped for something in the paper, maybe if Harry had given an explanation, an actual statement of why he had put them all through this – that there could be a chance of redemption, something worth rebuilding.

But for now, she remained in the dark - foolishly continuing to hope.

-

Lupin Lodge was in silence. The brisk blooming morning brought the faint yellow line of light beyond the horizon, distant noises of early birds were flapping their wings overhead and the small gust of winds whipped coolly across the tall tree tops. A person materialized out of no where on the garden path, her bright pink hair seem to stand out against the rising light, and the gleaming travelling cloak tied around her neck swished magically in her wake as she wasted no time in moving forwards.

Nymphadora Tonks didn't even bother closing the door behind her as she passed through it and strode down a hallway. She untied her travelling cloak and threw it carelessly onto the kitchen table, and then she took a sharp right up a flight of stairs and withdrew her wand as she reached the landing outside a bedroom door to her left. For a moment she hesitated, going back over in her head what she was there to say – her intentions were to help those she felt were stuck, and this person was well- err…

Anyway, she thudded hard on the door, but this was unnecessary.

Harry Potter had been awake since the very dull light of the morning had broken through; he seemed to have woken almost instantly and had since then, been staring open eyed at the ceiling lost in thought. He jumped slightly at the noise at his door, his potential trance that he had been in seemed to vaporize and he was raising from his bed and grabbing at his wand.

'Hello?' Harry called out, moving forwards now with his wand outstretched, 'whose there?'

'Open up, Harry,' Tonks ordered, thumping the door again.

Slightly befuddled, Harry moved forwards and tapped the lock; there was a moment's pause where his door clicked open and nothing happened – then it was pushed open and Tonks emerged with bright pink bubble-gum hair, a mousey nose and fabulous grin etched across her face.

'Tonks?' Harry asked in puzzlement.

'Wotcher Harry,' she said, nodding at his wand. 'Put that away, will you?'

'What are you doing here?' Harry asked immediately, stowing his wand in his pocket, 'where's Remus-?'

'My place,' Tonks said, passing Harry and stepping over some of his belongings.

'Did he send-?' Harry started, but was rudely interrupted.

'No.' Tonks said forcibly, leaning up against the windowsill. 'I came here on my own accord, and intend to take you on my own also.'

'Take me?' Harry retorted, looking at Tonks fixedly. 'Take me where?'

'To Ginny of course,' Tonks smiled.

And before Harry could reply, Tonks waved her wand and all of Harry's belongings began to sweep through his room and landed in his trunk. To his surprise, his stray socks linked together magically in mid air and did a little flip back into his trunk; Tonks absolutely beamed.

'Molly,' Tonks said in return to Harry's impressed look. 'Better teacher than my mother as it turns out – she taught me this too, here look.'

Another casual flick of her wand and Tonks seem to make a pair of Harry's old jeans hover up, fold itself inside-out and upturn the pockets so a few Sickles and a stray chocolate frog card fell to the floor. Just as easily, the jeans folded out the right way and then neatly in half, before they floated back casually into the trunk.

'Neat, huh?' Tonks grinned.

Harry stared at her. Short of acknowledging her accomplished charm work, Tonks didn't seem to have considered the astrological effect this move would have. Walking straight up to the Burrow with Harry and a packed trunk full of his possessions, with every impression that he should be staying for a rather long time - it did not feel as if there would be a peaceful outcome. Yet his trunk clicked shut, locked itself and then sat upright, ready to roll; Harry kept looking at Tonks with utter bewilderment.

'You don't understand,' Harry said to her, as she finally looked around. 'I can't just- I won't just walk up to her, it's not that easy. Ron would hex me to London…'

'That's the sort of negative attitude that has kept you into hiding for seven months,' Tonks told him briskly, brandishing her wand at him. 'I tell you if Remus hadn't stopped me from taking you myself, this would have been over weeks ago-'

'Wait, what?' Harry spat, his eyes narrowed. 'You knew-?'

'Do you think,' Tonks started, her mouth moving into a smile, 'that Remus would be able to date me for such time, without letting slip of who was hiding away in his Guest room?'

Harry felt ill.

'So then you've-'

'Known for almost two months now,' Tonks said happily, a smile of confidence seemed to sweep across her face momentarily.

'Still,' Harry said, feeling as if he would punch Remus right now if he was present, 'I'm not going to the Burrow-'

'Then what?' Tonks said suddenly. 'Are you really going to just sit around, twiddling your thumbs and stare aimlessly at the ceiling for the remainder of your life?'

'Well seems as I was given the cold treatment, and told not to go back there,' snapped Harry, he felt his anger rising. 'I thought I might give lying around a try – seems I have no where to go.'

Tonks narrowed her eyes.

'That's not good enough,' she said flatly.

'What?' Harry retorted.

'You heard me!' Tonks flared to her full height; it was about two inches short of Harry's eye level but her impressions were clear. 'Now you should act like a grown up, say you're sorry to Ginny and see if you can't repair a couple of old friendships!'

'Since when do you tell me what to do, huh?' Harry felt his hand twitch towards his wand in his pocket.

'I am –telling- you what to do,' Tonks replied, her eyes narrower still, 'so you cannot ruin your life any more than you already-'

'IT'S NOT YOUR LIFE!' Harry roared; he was unaware that he had his wand out and he had pointed it at Tonks.

Tonks reactions were fast, but Harry's were faster.

'Expelliarmus!' Harry shouted; Tonks' wand landed over near the door.

'Harry-'

'YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!' Harry felt the anger rise quickly, moving forwards and forcing Tonks to back-track – sparks were emitting from his wand.

'I've lost my parents!' Harry said forcefully, 'I've lost Sirius and Dumbledore,' he was ticking off fingers with his wand, 'now Ron, Hermione and Ginny! You don't know how that feels-'

'I do,' Tonks said. 'Sirius' death was hard, but your friends - you can correct that-'

'I CAN'T!' Harry spat in her face.

He began to breathe rather heavily; Tonks' hair had seemed to change subconsciously from bubble-gum pink to a rather fearful white. She was staring at Harry, worried, rather than scared, that he might explode. A moment passed where the room stood silent, the sun had now crept over the horizon half-way and was filling the room; not the half that Harry and Tonks stood in, though, and they remained in darkness.

'I think you should leave,' Harry said hotly, turning his back on her finally. 'I know you meant to help, I know you hoped that things might have been mended today- but that's unlikely to happen. Not today, nor any day I would imagine: tell Remus, I'll be gone after Christmas – there's no point searching for me.'

Tonks didn't move. Her eyes were on his back, Harry could feel it.

'Harry,' Tonks said calmly, Harry did not face her, 'alright, I will go- but know this… you CAN repair this. There is a way- you… you will just have to pull your finger out and find it.'

Harry looked around at her and stared; she was on the threshold picking up her wand. There was a tense moment as they stared each other down, wands drawn, eyes narrowed – but then she had her hand on the doorknob and was preparing to leave.

'And don't leave, Harry,' she added, smiling wryly. 'Remus and I still care for you.'

Harry only half-nodded, unsure of what he should do.

'Merry Christmas then, Harry.'

She pocketed her wand and with a nod, she left.