Chapter 5
Jakob
Much to Jacob's chagrin, November passed as dank, cold, gray and rainy with no snow.
Percy had reported to his parents and Miss Thimblebrass about the boy's recollection of snow, and played back the recording of his few lines about it. The night that Jacob's formal adoption had been set in motion, Percy had also revealed to the ladies his plan to solicit Viktor Krum's help in finding them a contact to search Durmstrang's records.
He'd also had Hagrid contact Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons, just in case.
The adults were mutually disturbed by not only the fact that Jacob remembered snow, but by his quote about hoping that Percy couldn't find his parents.
No one told Jacob these things, however.
And no one wanted to get the boy's hopes up, only to dash them. Once again, the Burrow was filled with the sounds of a happy child, and no one wanted to risk that.
"It's the worst thing that we can do to a child – let them believe they've found a family, then have it all fall through," Miss Thimblebrass had warned them. "We're at a very delicate stage for Jacob right now, and it's best if he not know until it's final."
So Jacob was told that until his parents could be located, he was to remain in official care with the Weasleys.
This bit of good news, it seemed, had helped with Jacob's problems. His nightmares began decreasing in severity, and more nights than not, he slept peacefully with only vague memories of bad dreams. His appetite increased, and some days it almost seemed possible to watch him grow. Molly had bought his new clothes a size too big, charmed them down to fit, and found herself restoring them in seemingly no time. Jacob's language skills improved, as did his building skills with his Neverending Blocks set. One night, following the suggestion book, he made a very good model of the Kremlin. He also did an Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the White House, the Vatican, and the Taj Mahal.
Oddly enough, his magic also seemed to be blossoming as well. While his toy wand was supposed to only be able to cast a Lumos Charm, it was clear that Jacob was capable of much more. Molly and Arthur attributed the odd behavior of his toy dragon to random childhood magic, as Ron had been able to activate the animation charm on his bear, making Mr. Stuffings stand up and walk on his own when he was deeply engrossed in make-believe games with the old bear. Mr. Stuffings, however, had never eaten real food or bitten anyone!
One area that Jacob seemed to excel in was auto mechanics. Arthur's secret VW Beetle had arrived with four flat tires, but when Jacob kicked them, they all snapped back to the rim and inflated right back up. And somehow, using only a Muggle tire-shining polish, Jacob had managed to restore the tires to almost full tread life. Of course, the boy had never let slip to Molly about it, but both of them were sure that she was suspecting something. The more the two of them worked together on the car, the more Arthur wondered how silly he'd been for how he'd felt when Jacob had first arrived. It was unbelievable how he'd not wanted the boy around, and now he couldn't imagine evenings without listening to the boy do his schoolwork, or humming happily to himself while he built things with his blocks or made more artwork. Each morning, a different piece of artwork greeted him on the icebox door, and every night at bedtime, a picture of Jacob waved goodnight to them with the rest of the Weasley children from the mantelpiece.
And each night, that little voice told them that he loved them.
The Burrow, it seemed, had returned to normal.
By the end of the month, they were ready to try and start the car. Given his success (or lack thereof) with the Ford Anglia some years before, Arthur knew all about this. After much reassurance that it was safe, Jacob climbed into the front seat and fastened his seat belt. Arthur turned the key.
The car lurched forward, startling them, then sputtered and sat still again.
"Put the clutch in, Dad," Jacob reminded him, and Arthur tried again.
VROOOM! The Beetle's rebuilt engine came to life.
Jacob laughed and clapped his hands. His toy dragon flew out of his pocket and back into the house.
"Coward!" Arthur called after it.
Arthur found the headlight switch and turned it on. He waved his wand, and the shed's door opened, flooding the lawn with light.
"Oh, sweet Merlin at Stonehenge, NO!" Molly gasped, "Not again!"
Arthur moved the shifter to first gear and gently released the clutch. The Beetle idled forward out into the night.
"It goes! It goes, Daddy!" Jacob cheered. "We did it!"
"Just so long as the body doesn't fall off," Arthur warned him. He tapped the radio with his wand.
"And this one goes out to my good friend, Arthur!" The voice of Lee Jordan announced, "A Muggle classic from the rock band Steppenwolf! Hope you enjoy it, Arthur, as your wife just Floo'd us up and said she was going to practice her Reductor Curse – on your head!"
"Let your motor run, and you…head out on the highway…"The radio played on.
They pulled up to the house, where Molly was standing on the porch and tapping her foot.
"Hey, baby, goin' our way?" Arthur asked.
And so they drove down the way and through the nearby village of Ottery St. Catchpole, back up the hill, and frightened Xeno Lovegood so badly that he would publish in The Quibbler the next day that he had very nearly been abducted by Martians!
"Well, now if we could just fix the rust holes in it and paint it!" Molly said by way of a compliment.
"I wish it would snow," Jacob complained, as they put the Beetle back in the shed and headed inside for hot cocoa and biscuits.
"I wish we had a camera," Molly lamented, as they watched Jacob, sitting near the fireplace, happily reading Fantastic Beasts… and nibbling at a biscuit.
By the end of the month, Percy forwarded a letter to his parents from Madame Olympe Maxime, stating that no one in France's magical community was missing a little boy.
Felicia Thimblebrass came for dinner one evening, and Jacob was excited to show her all of the Christmas decorations that he and Molly had been putting up. But she seemed quite distracted. In fact, it was Jacob who pointed this out.
"It's the children," she admitted. "Not a one of them has been adopted, or even had a visitor," she sighed. "I'm afraid it's going to be a rough Christmas for them all."
"Have you gotten anyone at all, besides Andromeda, to help?" Molly asked, shooing Jacob out of the kitchen so that she could serve dinner.
"Well, Mr. Potter did make it possible for Mrs. Malfoy to help out, and she's been a real blessing," Felicia nodded. "And he also found us this daft old House Elf somewhere, Croaker?"
"Kreacher," Molly corrected her, rolling her eyes. "What else?" She asked, noting the look on the matron's face.
"Don't tell Jacob, but Cameron's in hospital," she whispered. "He ran away the other night, when it was raining. Hagrid found him curled up outside in the morning in the Hippogriff paddock, almost frozen to death. We still don't know how he got past the Hogwarts Wards, and if it hadn't been for that beast, Witherings, they said, he'd have fro-…" She sniffed, turning away. "He's not doing very well, Molly. They say he's…unbalanced…and not responding well to treatment."
Molly took her in her arms, searching for any words of comfort. It hardly seemed fair that while one homeless boy was out in the night freezing to death, another had been having the time of his life riding around in an automobile.
"What's Christmas?" Jacob asked later at dinner.
The adults just stared at him.
And so Arthur explained it.
Jacob didn't seem to buy the part about Father Christmas, or Santa Claus as some called him.
"You can't even Apparate into every house in the world in one night, you'd fall over exhausted!" Jacob theorized. "And reindeer don't fly! Thestrals and Hippogriffs, yes. Not reindeer!"
"Some say that the Native Alaskan Shamans have charmed reindeer to fly," Arthur protested. "Their antlers collect helium gas, and their fur is shaped like tiny little feathers. You see, they place Hover Charms on their hooves, and..."
Jacob snorted.
"Scrooge," Molly added.
"Who's that?" Jacob asked.
"I'll tell you at bedtime," Molly promised him.
After dessert, Jacob demonstrated his reading skills to Miss Thimblebrass and showed her his schoolwork. He also presented her with a piece of artwork, which they assumed was supposed to be a depiction of Hogsmeade Village, with snow. Felicia gratefully accepted it, and after a tour of the Burrow in general and Jacob's room in particular, she departed with assurances of a glowing report to the Ministry.
"As if they care," Molly huffed. "Can you imagine, all those children?" She left it hanging. Arthur just nodded.
Later that night, Molly found her copy of Charles Dickens' works to explain to Jacob who Scrooge was:
"I do," said Scrooge. "Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough."
"Come, then," returned the nephew gaily. "What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough."
"He's got a point," Jacob pointed out.
Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said, "Bah!" again; and followed it up with "Humbug."
"Don't be cross, uncle," said the nephew.
"What else can I be," returned the uncle, "when I live in such a world of fools as this Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will," said Scrooge indignantly, "every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!"
"What a beastly old man!" Jacob gasped, and his dragon seemed to agree. The little toy, who was residing in his breast pocket, nodded and snorted a small puff of smoke.
"Mummy, I don't much fancy this story!"
"Well, trust me, you'll fancy Christmas. You're sure you don't remember any?" Molly asked him again, unable to believe it.
Jacob shook his head. "Sounds rather dodgy to me, Mummy. I'm supposed to ask for things I want, and someone gives them to me? What's the catch?"
Molly laughed.
"Honestly," Jacob yawned. "I've already got everything!" He looked around the room.
In that moment, Molly could not have been more proud. She hugged him tightly, lost for words, then tucked him in.
That night, Jacob slept peacefully.
He dreamed of an old man in a flowing blue robe, with a long white beard.
"Things are going well, Jacob?" The old man asked.
Jacob nodded, looking around at the snow-covered village all about them that looked like one of Molly's old Christmas cards. "Very well, for me, sir," he replied.
"You're talking so eloquently now," The old man pointed out.
"Yes, sir!"
"But are you ready now, boy?" The old man asked. "It can't be put off much longer."
Jacob thought about it for a long while, thinking it odd that he wasn't cold, although all he was wearing was his colorful sleeper.
"Can't I have bit more, sir?" He answered honestly.
The old man considered it. "Perhaps," he nodded.
There was still no snow on December first, but Andromeda came visiting with baby Teddy. Jacob was delighted and fascinated by the baby, especially by Teddy's ability to change the color of his hair. While the women chatted away and put up more Christmas decorations, Jacob entertained Teddy by reading to him and trying to get him to draw with him. Teddy, however, was more interested in eating the crayons and kept crawling over to them no matter where Jacob moved them to.
"Now, Andy, you simply must bring Teddy on Christmas Eve. We'll all be here at five, give or take!" Molly was saying. "Even Hagrid!"
"I wouldn't miss it," Andromeda smiled, glancing at Jacob and Teddy. "Still no word?"
"All we know is that he isn't French," Molly joked. "Percy's not heard back from the Durmstrang offices, though."
"I see," Andromeda agreed, "You know, there is something familiar about him. Something that I can't quite put my finger on."
"I'm so looking forward to everyone being here this year," Molly went on, "And to see Jacob's face!" Then she flinched. "The tree! We've got to put in the tree!" She added excitedly. "Jacob! Bundle up, we've got to go and get a tree!"
"A what?" Jacob wondered.
Andromeda explained it all to him.
"You're going to kill a tree, to bring it in?" Jacob seemed appalled.
"Wait and see," Molly assured him, as they all dressed warmly and headed outside.
Molly fetched a shovel from the shed, which only confused the boy more. Andromeda snorted when she saw the car.
To Jacob's surprise, they dug up a very small spruce that was hardly 12" [30 cm] tall and put it in a small pot that Molly conjured. Jacob carried it back, although it got quite heavy after a bit. When they arrived back at the Burrow, Molly flicked her wand and a section of the floor in the far corner vanished. She then replanted the tree in the bare dirt.
"Engorgio!" She cast the Charm, and the tree began to expand. Jacob clapped; Teddy squealed in delight.
"Brilliant!" Jacob gasped, breathing in the smell of the tree.
"Now you'll have to water it every day!" Molly informed him.
Again, Jacob was delighted and went to fetch a pail.
Arthur was sitting in his office at about that time, dreading the stack of paperwork before him. He quickly signed off on Miss Thimblebrass' requisitions for funding from the seized assets of former Death Eaters, however. He figured he'd hear about that one soon enough, but it was already December, none of the children had found homes, things were still a bit chaotic at the Ministry, and Christmas was coming. "Idiots, what do I know about Gringotts investments? I'll teach 'em to come in and do their jobs!" he shook his head, wondering what kind of tree he would find planted in the sitting room this year. It was the custom at the Burrow to fetch a tree on the first of December, plant it in the house, enlarge it, and then reduce it for a return to the wild when Christmas was over. With a grin, he remembered the cedar that Charlie had picked out one year. While the tree had looked very full and smelled wonderful, the branches had been far too flimsy to hold any ornaments and had required some very creative stabilizing charms so that they didn't fall off.
He found himself wishing that he could be there to see Jacob's face.
"Dad?" Percy interrupted him, barging in and not bothering to knock. "Dad, have you got a moment?"
Arthur took one look at his son and instantly knew that something was wrong.
"Come in, Perce! What is it?"
Percy turned and secured the door with at least three Spells.
"Dad, I've got news. Bad news, I'm afraid," Percy shook his head, holding up a large envelope with a Durmstrang seal on it. "This just came from Viktor, Wizards' Parcel Service, overnight. He didn't dare owl or Floo it, and it's obvious that the deliveryman's memory has been altered. He doesn't even know how he got to England!"
Arthur felt his heart skip. The envelope, combined with the look on Percy's face, and such security measures, could mean only one thing.
Probably a bad thing.
"You found them?"
Percy nodded, looking ill.
"Jacob's parents are dead, then?" Arthur breathed, dreading having to tell the little boy this news so near Christmas.
Percy shook his head.
Arthur paled.
"Then they…they w-want him back?" Arthur stammered, immediately imagining scenarios (none of them good) as to how Molly would take this news. He himself was already feeling gutted.
"Dad," Percy tried to cut in.
"I suppose we knew it could happen," Arthur looked away, "We said we were prepared for it, that we'd do the right thing, and that…"
"DAD!" Percy shouted, dropping the envelope on his desk and sitting down hard in a chair he hastily conjured. He then bowed his head, covering his face with both hands.
"Percy, what is it?" Arthur demanded, seeing his son now trembling.
"J-just read it, Dad," Percy managed, getting himself a glass of water and transfiguring it into something much stronger.
With trembling hands, Arthur opened the envelope. There were only a few papers in it, each of them bearing the mark of the Eastern European Society of Sorcery, their own Ministry's counterpart. The first was a birth certificate, and Arthur stared at it. For a moment, what he was reading didn't register with him. The official signature read: "Igor V. Karkaroff", which meant it was pre-1994. Then he dropped it and sat back down, his chair sliding into the wall with a THUNK! He felt his stomach fall into his shoes.
"Oh, Merlin! Merlin, no, anyone but HIM!" he kept repeating over and over, picking up the paper and just staring at it in shock:
JAKOB LUKAS DOLOHOVDate of birth: Friday, April 13th, 1990
Father: Antonin Mikael Dolohov
Mother: Anastasia Valentina Veselovsky
Birthplace: Moscow, Russia
"I d-don't believe it," Arthur finally managed. "I WON'T BELIEVE IT!" He shouted.
"Dad, the…the fingerprints match," Percy assured him, his voice breaking. "They take…they take a tiny blood sample, too, when babies are born, that's the spot there," He pointed it out on the document. "Our Muggle liaison has confirmed that as well. Jacob's DNA sample that Madame Pomfrey sent in is a perfect match." He got himself another drink. "Dad, there's no doubt about it."
"Antonin Dolohov's son," Arthur breathed, turning the birth certificate over and slamming his palm down on it, as if this action would make things change somehow.
"You know Dolohov's history?" Arthur added, as Percy looked up at him.
Percy nodded slowly. "I took the liberty of looking it up, Dad." He then lowered his head again, shaking. "Dad, I…I warned you that it might be…that Jacob could be…I just never dreamed that he could be…Dad, we didn't know! Dolohov never even mentioned any arrangements for the boy, after he was sent to Azkaban this time."
"You – are – absolutely – sure?" Arthur said it slowly.
"It makes no sense to me, Dad," Percy shrugged, "Yet here it is, and DNA doesn't lie! I suppose there could be any number of magical medical explanations…"
"I didn't know that bastard had any children, either," Arthur interrupted him. "Hell, there's no records of the boy here!" He repeated.
"I suppose bypassing immigration was high on his priority list when his family emigrated here," Percy pointed out. "It wouldn't have been that hard to smuggle the wife and baby in."
Arthur said nothing for the longest time. He simply perused the rest of the documentation, including the same type of confirmation of the birth of a magical child that Hogwarts was known to record for the Isles. Jacob's name was down for Durmstrang. The boy remembered snow. He insisted that reindeer did not fly. He pronounced his own name as "yah-cobb".
Arthur picked up the two flyers again – Death Eaters and shelter children. Of course, Jacob's image was now missing, but again, he felt that chill of familiarity. Arthur opened his wallet and pulled out his copy of Jacob's image. He held it up next to that of Antonin Dolohov.
That lopsided little smile suddenly gave him chills.
The resemblance was clear.
"Why didn't I notice it before?" Arthur mumbled.
"Dad," Percy said again, his voice full of emotion. "I never knew them, but Uncles Fabian and Gideon were k-…"
"I know that!" Arthur snapped. He palmed his face. "I'm sorry, Perce. Forgive me. I just can't…I have no idea how I'm going to explain this to your mother."
"I…I have t-testimonials to…to file," Percy stammered. "H-Harry and Ron have finally finished their depositions in the matter of the Crabbe boy, you know. They've been so busy, what with school and all."
"Go and do your work, Perce," Arthur suddenly embraced him. "You were always such a hard worker," he added. "Wonder you weren't in Hufflepuff, you know…" his voice trailed off as he began pacing the office as Percy took his leave. "So studious, attention to details…"
"Dad, may I ask, do I need to call…the shelter?"
Arthur didn't reply.
"Right, then," Percy sighed. "I'll jus' go and try and sort this impossible mess out, shall I?"
The door clicked shut.
Crabbe, Arthur thought. Another mother who'd lost a child…
Arthur went back to his desk, and studied the thin file on Jakob Dolohov. There was a record of his father's arrest and still-pending trial. He was currently in Azkaban. The other document was from St. Mungo's, the morgue, listing Anastasia as "succumbed to injuries received in the Battle of Hogwarts". Arthur gathered a few things from his desk, grabbed the file, and left work early.
Not trusting his nerves enough to Apparate, he Floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron to see if Hannah might have a good tonic.
"You look dreadful, Mr. Weasley!" Hannah informed him.
"Bit of unfortunate news," Arthur replied, sipping at the clear, fizzing drink.
"Not anythin' wrong with your little visitor, is there?" An old woman asked him, plunking herself down on the barstool next to him.
"Doris," Arthur drew a deep breath, "Please…just go away!"
Doris Crockford gave him an appraising look, a curt nod, and went on about her business – which to Doris, was everyone else's business too.
Arthur finished his drink, decided to risk it, and went out the front door and ducked into an alley where he vanished.
When he materialized on the lawn at the Burrow, Arthur felt a draft. He looked down to see that he'd splinched off his left shoe, sock, and trouser leg, and counted himself lucky that there were still five toes on his foot. He stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of his home.
It's not much, but it's home, he could hear Ron's boyhood voice saying.
A home that had raised seven children.
A home that had lost one of those children.
A home that had gained one along the way.
A home that was now haven to the son of the man who'd…
Arthur shook himself out of his reverie and went inside.
As he turned to check the sitting room, he smelled the spruce before he saw it. In a blink of his eyes, seven children in homemade and hand-me-down clothing, with "new" secondhand school things, and a bit of Honeydukes clearance Christmas candy vanished as quickly as they'd come.
Happy children at Christmas.
Now only baby Teddy Lupin remained, napping near the tree. Arthur move carefully so as not to wake him.
Building blocks, papers, and crayons were now scattered about the floor around the untrimmed tree. Arthur bent down to examine a brightly colored picture, and saw that it was another collage of handprints, all in different colors. In the lower corner, in black letters, was printed "JACOB'98". Another was, he assumed, a Christmas tree made of green handprints.
"Arthur, is that you?" Molly called, sticking her head around the doorjamb, "What are you doing home so early?" She blinked. "Bit of turbulence in the ether today?" She wondered, noting her husband's bare leg.
"A… a bit," Arthur nodded.
"Well cover it up," Molly pulled her wand, and summoned a bit of cloth from her sewing basket to repair his trousers. "I'm sure that Andy doesn't want to see that!"
"An-Andromeda's here?" Arthur managed, "Good, good. I…I suppose she should…she should hear this, too."
Molly stared at him for a moment. Arthur approached her unsteadily, and she took his arm. "What's wrong, dear?" She asked. "Something at work?"
Arthur nodded, sitting numbly at the kitchen table where Andromeda was just pouring some tea. She handed him a cup.
There's no help for it, Arthur decided, pondering a biscuit. His stomach lurched.
"Percy found Jacob's parents today," he blurted.
The two ladies stared at him.
Molly's teacup fell to the floor and shattered.
"Where is the boy?" Arthur added, his voice going cold.
"Upstairs, taking a nap," Andromeda answered, when Molly didn't. "He's had a big day."
"Good," Arthur turned and hastily cast a silencing charm on the doorway.
"Who…who are they?" Molly finally whispered.
Arthur bowed his head. "Sit down, love," he replied. Molly did that. "Do you remember what we said, Molly, when we were talking about what we'd do if they ever found out who…if we found out they were…"
"Death Eaters?" She cut in, "But we've been over all that!" Molly replied, nodding.
"How did Percy do it?" Andromeda interrupted, noting the looks on Molly and Arthur's faces.
"We were looking in all the wrong places," Arthur informed her. "Percy called Krum at Durmstrang, and Krum got a hold of someone in records there. That's how they found him. Jacob is Russian, born in Moscow. Possibly from other locations, too, since he was smuggled into this country along with his mother."
"Well where are they now?" Andromeda demanded, as Molly just looked on in shock. "Do they know? Do they want custody?"
"Azkaban," Arthur said, shaking his head, "Well, the father is. The mother's dead. She died just after the Final Battle."
"Death Eaters," Molly repeated, "Well, we suspected…I mean, we shouldn't be surprised. All the remaining shelter children are…theirs, aren't they?"
"Isn't that just it, Molly?" Arthur said in sudden heat, startling the ladies, "We knew it might be possible, but we didn't really expect it, did we? But we said it was all right, didn't we, because he was just a child? He didn't do a thing, did he? Other than get lost when those monsters dragged him out into the forest to watch it all! He's innocent? But we never really expected to confirm it, did we?"
"Of course he's innocent!" Andromeda retorted. "It's not like the boy participated!"
"He saw it," Arthur explained, "The nightmares prove it. Jakob saw the Battle. He even quoted Voldemort's words. Those wicked, vile…people…!" He spluttered, "Dragged him out in the night to the bloody fight with them! They made a seven-year-old boy watch that horror! And then, when one gets herself killed, and the father gets arrested, he doesn't even have the decency to tell someone there's a child lost in the forest?! Thank Merlin for Abe's goat!" Arthur ranted, waving his arms about wildly, his face red and sweating.
"Seven?" Molly wondered.
"Well, eight, now," Arthur dropped the file on the table. "He was born in April, 1990."
Molly reached for the folder, but Arthur stayed her hand.
"Dammit, Arthur," Andromeda snorted, "Who were they?"
"Just like all the rest of them," Arthur continued his rant, "Make sure we raise the kids right, what?! Take 'em out to a good war and pass the fizzy drinks and popcorn! 'Pay attention, son, while Daddy does the Cruciatus Curse on this fellow'!"
"Arthur, what are you on about?" Andromeda wondered. "You're acting like the boy was the lovechild of Voldemort and…old lady Parkinson or something!"
"Ewww!" Molly sneered. "Seriously, dear, are you going to tell us who they are or not? Do we need to call a lawyer on this?"
"Antonin and Anastasia Dolohov," Arthur admitted. "It's all in there," he tapped the folder.
The Burrow went very quiet.
Molly shivered as if the temperature of the room had physically dropped.
"Dolohov…" Andromeda and Molly both gasped.
"'Jakob Lukas Dolohov'," Molly read the boy's name, her voice quavering and her hands shaking as she shook her head in disbelief. "Dolohov…he…he was the one who killed my brothers, Fabian and Gideon," she managed, as the tears came.
"And Remus. They said…they s-said it took four more Death Eaters to take Fabian and Gideon down!"
Andromeda squeezed Molly's hand tighter.
Andromeda, however, refused to show any emotion. Her face was hard as she looked from Molly to Arthur.
For a long time, no one said a word.
Then Molly stood up so quickly that she knocked her chair over. "It's never going to end, is it?" She exclaimed, waving her arms about, "Just when you think you've put it all behind you, just when you think you've done something good, started to move on…" she began to sob. "Some old ghost comes back out of the past to bring it all back to you! What will people say when this gets out?! I thought that we'd…we'd have…some semblance…of a normal life, now…And we've taken in his…son? How can we possibly…the boy, I…he's branded, with a name like that!" She leaned upon the counter, hiding her face in her hands, unable to complete the sentence. Then she slowly sank to her knees on the kitchen floor. "I…I just don't know if I can face this again…if I can even look at…after what his father did? Oh, Arthur!" She cried, and Arthur moved to support her. He grabbed the teacup that Andromeda levitated to him, and got Molly to sip it.
Molly passed out in his arms.
"That should do it," Andromeda said firmly, stoppering a small bottle and putting it back in her pocket. "What?" She looked at Arthur, "It was that or a good slap, and the latter seemed inappropriate at the time!"
Arthur took his wife up to bed, then returned without checking on Jacob.
"You're taking this rather well?" He asked Andromeda in an icy tone, who was making more tea.
"Arthur, don't take this the wrong way," she replied, nibbling calmly at a biscuit. "But I've lost far more than you have. I lost the House of Black - my entire family, for the man I loved. Then they killed him. My own sister killed my only daughter in the Battle of Hogwarts. I know what it's like to lose a child, too. And Dolohov killed my son in law, Remus, too. How do they say it? I've become something of a hard-arse. I suppose we could say that's the problem you face, now, isn't it?"
"What?!" Arthur gasped. "What are you getting at, Andy?"
"Admit it, Arthur. You're now fostering the son of a murderer, and one that's literally hit home for you lot – the son of the man who killed your wife's brothers and tore her family apart. The man who wanted to kill your son, Ron's, friends, and very nearly got Hermione in the Department of Mysteries. The man who killed Teddy's father, your good friend. Don't tell me that it doesn't bother you, just a bit? It certainly seems to have hit Molly fairly hard?"
Arthur glared at her.
"How can you just sit there and say it like that?!" Arthur snapped at her. "And besides, that House of yours kicked out Septimus Weasley and Cedrella Black decades ago, too! I couldn't care less about that! But how can you be so callous?"
Andromeda drew herself up, and Arthur suppressed a shiver as he suddenly recalled Bellatrix LeStrange. "Because I've always had to be! Because I have to be strong, now more than ever, for Teddy's sake! Because I was raised in the House of Black, where you had to be strong! And for my own sanity's sake! Merlin's knickers, Arthur! I grew up with Bella!" Andromeda replied, her voice rising, full of steel. "I have to be something of a bitch just to keep from going mad! And don't you confuse strength for uncaring, Arthur Weasley!" She fired back at him, "If I could get my hands on Antonin Dolohov right now, I'd make my dear sister, Bella, look like the bloody Tooth Fairy! But if you think I'm going to sit in my house all day, worrying about what others think of me, and cry over what's done, then you're sadly mistaken!" She glared at him. Then she sipped her tea. "And let me remind you yet AGAIN, that you both knew that Jakob could be a – oh, what's the term I've heard around town? 'Death Eater's brat,' that's the one! Oh, and 'spawn of Slytherin', there's another good one."
"Horace and Severus were…" Arthur began.
"And so am I!" Andromeda reminded him, and her voice was dangerous. "So don't you even go there, Arthur Weasley! Don't you put his all down to that tired old 'Slytherins are evil' cliché!"
"That boy's father is the reason that Teddy is an orphan!" Arthur pointed out the door at the staircase landing by the sitting room.
"Speaking of," Andromeda cut in, "Time to get him up. Pardon me." She brushed past Arthur as if they'd simply just been discussing the weather or something.
Arthur then heard her gasp.
Teddy's bassinette was empty.
Dolohov killed Remus…Arthur recalled."Wouldn't surprise me if the heir of that madman's come to finish off the job his dad started! Hominum Revellio!" He pulled his wand, scanning the house."Oh, of course, Felicia sent Jacob, knowing full well who he was, so that he could off Teddy and make his old man proud," Andromeda snorted in sarcasm. "Arthur, get a grip! You're being a nutter – and don't think I won't slap you!"
"Jacob's room!" He then snapped, as he charged up the stairs with Andromeda behind him.
They burst into the room to find Jacob sitting on his bed, his back to the corner. He was sobbing, rocking Teddy in his arms, and trying to hum a little tune. Teddy was only squirming and fussing a bit, seemingly unperturbed. Jacob was choking as he held the baby close, rocking, but saying nothing. His toy wand was laid across Teddy's chest.
Arthur approached him, wand in hand, but ran into an invisible wall.
"You see? See?" He turned to Andromeda, "The boy does all sorts of queer things!"
"Hmmm, yes, wicked Dark Magic, I can tell," Andromeda sniffed. Teddy cooed.
"D-don't hurt the baby," Jacob finally managed to say, "You'll scare him! Don't hurt him, don't let him see! Don't make him watch…" Jacob continued to cry.
"Jacob, why did you hide with the baby up here?" Andromeda pushed Arthur aside.
"You'll hurt him. Make him see…see things," Jacob shook his head, clenching his eyes shut as he kept on rocking. "Yelling! Grown-ups yelling! When they yell, then they hurt you, then it's fire, bad men yelling, and fire…" he choked again, his voice getting smaller and smaller. "They get the wands out," Jacob looked up at Arthur in terror, whose wand was pointed right at him. "Then they hurt you! Did you hurt Mummy?" He asked Arthur. "I saw her fall down!"
Andromeda kicked Arthur's shin. "Put the damn wand down, Arthur!" She ordered him.
"Not until he gives us the baby!" Arthur protested, and with a wave of his wand, the wall of magical force shattered. Teddy flew out of Jacob's arms and into Andromeda's, and Jacob collapsed on his bed, hiding his face in top cover.
"Nicely done Muffliato, down there, Arthur. Seems he heard and saw the whole thing," Andromeda snapped at him. "Why didn't you just use a Beater's bat to deliver the information?"
"I…I should call Poppy," Arthur said, "Make sure Molly's all right?"
"Molly?" Andromeda hissed, as Teddy began to cry. "What about Jacob? Or rather, Jakob," she hit the consonant sounds hard.
Arthur ushered her out and closed the door to Jakob's room, locking it.
"Really?!" Andromeda exclaimed. "For Merlin's sake, Arthur! He's just overheard that his real mother is dead, and that his father is a mass murderer who left him alone in the middle of a war zone! He might have even heard you say that his father murdered part of this family! Don't you even care anymore how that poor boy feels?"
"Not right at this moment, no," Arthur confessed.
"Arthur, I cannot believe I am hearing…" Andromeda began, but Arthur cut her off.
"Thank you, Andromeda, but I think you need to go home now. I have some calls to make," Arthur dismissed her.
The look she gave him in return was deadly.
"So the choice is now yours, I think. Which one do you destroy? Molly or Jakob?" Andromeda retorted. Then she turned on the spot and vanished into a swirl of furious black smoke with the baby's cries echoing throughout the Burrow.
Downstairs, the clock struck five.
Notes:
wiki/Antonin_Dolohov
For those that are going to yell that Jakob is too old if Dolohov is his dad, wait.
You'll note that Percy is hinting at this when he tells Arthur. Of course Percy would know this!
Suspend the belief for a bit; it's essential to the plot.
"A Christmas Carol" text is quoted. Credit: Charles Dickens. No, Jakob is not the Ghost of Christmas Past. Sorry…