7
The Quibbler
Jakob was bored.
There was no help for it; he was bored.
That, and he'd quickly noticed that things were somehow different at the Burrow after the night that Ginny had played with him in his room for long.
For starters, she'd brought dinner to his room and play-acted like they were eating out at a restaurant. Then they'd played some more, made some more drawings for her to take with her, and then she'd gotten him ready for his bath. After she'd deemed him clean (having even let him wash his own hair), Ginny had put him to bed and read him a story. But when she'd been ready to go, which Jakob didn't think was right, because he wasn't even yawing yet, he felt like he had to ask her something.
He'd hoped she wouldn't be angry with him.
"Molly and Arthur don't like me anymore because of my real daddy, do they?"
Ginny's voice had caught in her throat, but she'd tried to assure him that such wasn't the case at all. She'd said it was just stress, and things would be back to normal in a few days.
But at least she'd left his door open, and she'd let Mr. Stuffings stay with him. Jakob had been glad of that; it had taken him a long time to fall asleep.
That had been about a week ago, Jacob knew, because he'd learned how to read the calendar just by watching Molly and Arthur looking at it. It hadn't been hard to figure out that "S" was for Sunday, "M" for Monday, and the rest. It must be very interesting, he thought, since they both looked at it so much. And so, when no one was looking (which was most of the time now), he'd read it through. He saw the words "Winter Solstice," "Christmas", "Boxing Day", and "New Years Eve". He thought it might be Friday the 12th, but he wasn't really sure; it could be Thursday, he thought. He was pretty sure that he was bored, though, and he hoped it would be the 13th soon. The calendar said "Ginny, Ron, Harry home" for that day, and Jakob thought that school might be out for them for this Christmas-thing. He wondered why they went to school with other kids when he had to sit home alone for it.
Jakob missed Ginny, Ron and Harry.
It had all started the day after the adults had had their long talk, which Jakob assumed was about him. Molly didn't come to get him up anymore. His alarm clock did that. He washed up by himself, and dressed himself. Breakfast would always be ready when he came down, just like usual, but neither one of them seemed to have much to say to him anymore. And since he was trying to be a good boy and not upset them anymore, or make them have more stress (whatever that was), he just ate quietly and waited for someone to say something.
Anything.
"That was nice, dear." – "Thank you, have a good day at work." – "You too." – "Can you stop at _on the way home and get me a _?"
Jakob wondered why they didn't smile anymore, though. It felt like he'd moved into a different house that looked exactly the same.
He wondered why they didn't talk to him at meals anymore.
After breakfast, he would go to his desk and do his schoolwork as usual. Lately, he'd taken to having Mr. Stuffings come and sit on a small stool with him. How the bear held a quill, Jakob had no idea, but he did. That, and his writing looked like little pictures that were impossible to read. Jakob wondered it was 'bear language'. "Wish I could read 'bear'," he mumbled to himself a lot.*
Molly would help him if he got stuck, then she'd check his work, but she didn't have anything nice to say about it anymore. All she said was things like "that's right," or "you've got that part mastered". Jakob wondered what the point was of doing it anymore, if it didn't make her happy anymore? Then she'd go back to sitting in her chair, knitting, and listening to the WWN. They were playing a lot of songs about Christmas, Jakob learned by listening, but he still wasn't sure what the whole Christmas-thing was all about. Yet he still watered the tree every day, even though no one had decorated it. That much he knew, from when they'd went to get it. They'd hung some decorations here and there, some day before the big talk, but none on the tree. Mummy…Molly had told him that they would all do it together when Daddy…Arthur, had time.
Jakob supposed they just didn't have time, since Christmas was in about two rows of blocks less a few on the calendar. He thought it silly to do all that work for just two weeks of having a pretty tree anyway. Besides, Jakob liked the tree just fine like it was. It smelled nice and it was green when everything outside was brown and dead.
They would have lunch just at twelve, and Molly would ask him if it was all right, and if he was full. Jakob would smile and politely reply that he was, thank you, and did she want him to clean up? But he didn't have to do that anymore. Molly would just flick her wand, and the mess would clean itself. A few more hours of schoolwork, or reading, and then she would have him put on his Wellingtons and a heavy coat and hat to go outside and "exercise".
More and more, Jakob began to feel like she just wanted him out of the house.
He thought it might be the weather, which didn't bother him that it was cold – so long as it wasn't raining. He really wished it would snow. He didn't know why he remembered snow, but he did, and he knew he liked it. He wished there were other kids to play with, too. He'd have even been glad to see that silly little Dorothea-girl, the one who'd called him a "war orphan".
But there were no other kids, and in fact, not another house that Jacob could even see, unless he climbed an apple tree and looked towards the half-built tower way off near where the ground and sky met. He wondered if anyone lived in it, and if so, did they have kids? Would they want to play with him? It didn't look like they had trees, so Jakob thought they couldn't see him at all.
He missed Cam. Cam had always played with him.
And since he was very bored, and since Molly didn't seem to care what he did anymore, he went toddling down the way one day to satisfy his curiosity – and to just have something to do.
It took him a while to get there. In fact, he had blisters on the backs of his heels from his Wellingtons rubbing them when he finally got there. That didn't matter to Jakob, though, because the place looked so interesting. It looked like a castle from his chess game, and when he got closer, he could see that it was being rebuilt. It looked to him like the top had been blown off not long ago, and there was a huge sheet of tarpaulin covering it with cables that went way out into the yard. There were bushes all around the front, too, but the leaves had fallen off. There was a sign that said "PLEASE KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS!" Jakob wondered what that was. He knew what a plum was, but what was a "drigable"?
And since he was very bored, and since he was very curious, he walked up and knocked on the door.
CRASH! WHOOP! THUD! AIGH!
"Uh oh," Jakob muttered, thinking that he should probably run away. Surely he had interrupted something important.
Then the door flew open, and a frazzled-looking man with wild white hair came bursting out. He was wearing a lilac robe, small spectacles that almost fell off his nose, and Jakob thought he looked rather comical.
"About time you got here!" He called, looking all around.
"Erm, down here, sir?" Jakob offered.
"AIGH!" The man screamed, jumping back. Then he looked closely at Jakob. "You're not the WPS deliveryman?"
"Sorry, sir?"
"Wizards' Parcel Service," he explained, giving the boy a scan with his wand before Jakob even saw him pull it out. "Well don't just stand there, it's cold out! Say, aren't you that Jacob-fellow that the Weasleys are fostering, I wonder? Doris told me something about it?"
"Yes, sir," Jakob replied, politely wiping his boots before coming in.
"Xenophilius Lovegood," the old fellow introduced himself. "My daughter, Luna, goes to school with your foster sister, Ginny, and with Ron, I hear." He offered his hand. Jakob smiled and shook it, happy that someone was at least talking to him now. "Just call me Xeno," the old man added, running back to whatever had fallen over when Jakob had knocked.
He looked all around the round room, which was like a living room that bled into a kitchen that bled into a workshop and back around again. Jakob found it quite interesting, especially the big machine that was running and spitting out papers that were flying into stacks where another machine grabbed them and bound them all together.
"You make books!" Jakob exclaimed.
"Magazines, actually," Xeno replied. "It's called The Quibbler, nothing like that rag of a paper, the Daily Prophet. Unlike them, I print the truth for the masses!"
"Like what?" Jakob wondered.
"Like the fact that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack is migrating towards the northern French coast, across Germay, of course, from the northeast and leaving Sweden!" Xeno exclaimed.
"Wow!" Jakob gasped. Then he pulled a face. "What's a 'snorkel-ack?"
And so Xeno explained it while he served hot Gurdyroot tea. Jakob rather liked it, after a teaspoon of sugar, a dash of cinnamon, and a spot of honey, which Xeno thought was genius.
As the printing presses whirred away, Xeno asked, "So what brings you all the way down here on such a nippy day?"
"I was looking for some other kids. I'm bored. I wished it would snow."
"Any day, now," Xeno assured him. "The clouds are just right for it! It's like they're waiting on something, though! Oh, I hope you can come back day after tomorrow, when my Luna gets home! She'd love to meet you and hear about your insights into making tea!"
"Is she my age? Does she go to school?" Jakob spilled out a dozen questions in reply.
They chatted for a good hour, when Xeno asked, "So, how old are you? Surely too young for Hogwarts next year?"
Jakob looked away. "Eight. I don't think I'll get to go there, sir," he replied, "My friend Cam went there, and they chucked him out this year. His cousin gets to go, though, 'cause he's a Ravenclaw and not a Slytherin."
Xeno nearly choked on his tea, shooting it out his nose.
"Who is this 'Cam', and where'd they chuck him TO?!" Xeno wondered.
And so Jakob told him all about the shelter, Cam, Miss Thimblebrass, and how the Weasleys had almost adopted him.
"But that was before Uncle Percy found out my real name was 'Jakob Lukas Dolohov'. My dad was a bad man, sir, and now the Weasleys don't like me anymore. I think they're gonna chuck me out, too." Jakob explained it all. "Molly won't talk to me anymore, and Arthur won't even look at me. Percy came the other night, and Mrs. Tonks, and they all were shouting, then they all sort of…forgot about me when I went to my room. I was scared they'd hurt the baby, so I hid with him."
"Why would they do that? They're the kindest folks around!" Xeno disagreed. "Known them for years!"
"When grown-ups get wands and shout, kids get hurt," Jakob explained. "The dog-man and the bad lady who looks Mrs. Tonks, but she isn't, but she's like her sister, I think, they did that. But the nice lady with hair like yours, it was her house, she never did. I liked her. Cam said his teachers used to hurt him, too, if he did bad in school last year, so I don't wanna go there."
Xeno dropped his teacup and gasped, his face pale.
"I'm sorry!" Jakob cried, "I didn't mean to make you sad, sir!" He jumped up. "I'll clean it up! Then I'll go! Don't tell anyone!" He was beginning to work himself up into a state, but Xeno saw it and got him calmed back down. He made him some more tea, with a tiny touch of Valerian root this time so that boy wouldn't have an anxiety attack or something.
"STOP THE PRESSES!" He waved his wand, and the machines all ground to a halt.
"Now, Jake, it's all right. I'm not sad, just surprised is all! Can you tell me all about how you came to be at the shelter, and what it was like?" Xeno asked.
And since Jakob was lonely, and since Mr. Xeno was interested, he did just that.
"Where HAVE you been?" Molly shouted, as Jakob came toddling in the door. He was very muddy, and it had begun to drizzle. His yellow knit hat was soaked, as was his red coat. His boots were in a state as well. "I tried a Revellio Spell, a Summoning Charm, a Locator Hex, and nothing! I was about to call the Aurors on you to report a missing persons case!"
"I went to see Mr. Xeno in his stump," Jakob explained. "And we had Jerky-root tea, and I learned about Crumbled-Horny Snorkel-acks, Nargles, and Dur-rooj-able Plums!"
Molly sighed and threw up her hands. "Lovegood?! Oh, tha's jus' brilliant," She complained. "You know those Snorky-things aren't real, right?" She sounded very stern, and Jakob stepped back.
"I'm sorry, I should have said I wanted to go, but I seen the stump…"
"His tower, you mean?" Molly asked.
"Yes, Ma'am, and it looked so neat, I just thought…I'd go…since…since…"
"I was worried sick!" Molly interrupted him, as she grabbed up his wet clothes and stripped him to his pants. "Hot bath, now! I'll bring tea in a bit! What did you do, roll with the hogs?"
"I fell down, Molly," Jakob offered, and Molly saw his skinned knee and torn trousers.
She pulled her wand, to mend the boy's knee, but Jakob's eyes went wide and he bolted up the stairs screaming, "I'm sorry, sorry, sorry!"
The clock ticked.
Jakob's boots dripped mud on the floor.
"Oh, dear," Molly breathed, realizing what the boy must have thought. She sat down upon the bottom stair. She'd shouted at him, pulled her wand, begun barking orders, and very obviously frightened him. It hit her hard, and in that moment, she also realized that the boy was expecting to be punished.
Probably quite severely.
But wasn't she already doing that? She hadn't been talking to him. She didn't praise his work anymore. She didn't read to him, or tuck him in. She thought back to breakfast and lunch, all week long, and the quiet dinners where she'd been nothing more than a cook and waitress. In fact, she knew, she'd been totally ignoring him. No eight year old should put himself to bed every night.
He'd just called her "Molly".
Jakob didn't call her 'mummy' anymore.
Percy had been right, hadn't he? Molly wondered.
But of all the children in the world to have chosen, had she chosen that one and likely ONLY one that her family simply could not accept?
Dolohov…
"Oh, Merlin! What AM I doing?!" She cried, suddenly remembering that muddy boots and a few hours of missing time were nothing compared to what Fred and George had done to her on a regular basis.
"Honestly, woman, and you call yourself our mother!" Two of the pictures reminded her.
She looked up, but the clock's hand for Jakob still said "lost".
"But he's just here!" Molly argued with it.
The hand didn't move.
That child is innocent, you know, Minerva had reminded her.
"Hot bath, hot soup, straight to bed, and he'll stay there! All that way, he'll be frozen and catch cold!" She then declared, as she charged up the stairs in pursuit of Jakob.
Later that evening, when Arthur enquired as to the boy's whereabouts, Molly told him all about it. "He had a big day," she said.
"Did he, now?" Arthur wondered, not sure what to make of it all. "What did he do?"
Molly glanced up sharply.
"He went to see Xeno," Molly informed him.
Arthur smacked his forehead and palmed his face.
"Quibbler, Quibbler!" Luna Lovegood was calling, waving about a magazine as she roamed the aisle of the Hogwarts Express the next day. "Snorkacks on the move, and homeless children at Christmas! Quibbler?" She asked, poking her nose into the compartment shared by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and a small Firstie boy in a Slytherin robe. His head was on Hermione's shoulder, and he seemed to have fallen asleep.
"Oh, yes, please!" Ginny reached for one, as did Neville.
"You know, this is the last ride home for Christmas we'll ever have," Ron mused, as Ginny opened the Quibbler.
"I never had many, I always stayed," Harry said.
"I was abducted from the last one," Luna reminded them. Neville shivered.
"It's so nostalgic," Hermione sighed. "I remember the first time, I rode back with you, Neville, and Seamus and Dean, and Lavender, I think."
Ron flinched.
"HOLY SHITE!" Ginny then exclaimed, "HARRY!" She grabbed him by the necktie and yanked his head down and over, pointing at the paper. "Read this! Holy mother of Merlin, look at this!"
"suh'matter?" The little boy looked up, sounding foggy.
"Nothing, Tristan, go back to sleep," Hermione told him, as she leaned over too.
"Oh boy," Neville observed, "Isn't this the boy you're all adopting, Ginny?"
On the cover of the Quibbler was a sad child holding a cup of tea, staring out the window of what looked like a wrecked house. The caption read: "SOMEWHERE I BELONG?"
The boy was Jakob.
A shelter flyer fell out on the floor.
The headline on page two of the Quibbler read:
MEET 'JACK' & THE ORPHANS OF WARNo One Wants a Mini-Death Eater?
Their names are all familiar. Household words, in fact. Hardly a wizarding family alive today (and a few not, thanks to them) doesn't know the name or face of the likes of Avery, Dolohov, Rossier, LeStrange, Jugson, Mulciber, Warrington, and the list goes on and on – the followers of the Dark Lord – the Death Eaters.
It is a foregone conclusion that the recent war terribly damaged us all, as well as Hogwarts, where The Final Battle was fought. Ironically, while the damage to our beloved institute of learning has been repaired over the summer, it would seem that our own attitudes towards one another have not. Sadly, this point is clearly demonstrated by the very existence of The Charity Burbage Shelter for Displaced Magical Children. Or perhaps, it would be more accurate to say that it is so demonstrated by the children who inhabit it.
Named for the recently deceased former professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, the shelter is located in Hogsmeade. It was founded some days after the Battle, as Aurors and common folk alike began to find stray children with nowhere to go, having lost everything to the war. Run by one Miss Felicia Thimblebrass, the shelter soon began placing orphaned children in proper homes, with many of them soon finding permanent adoption with caring families.
It has come to our attention here at the Quibbler, however, that many are still there and in need of good homes. Shockingly, a quick search of Ministry records reveals that only the children of former Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw families have been placed with a family. The only children left behind come from Slytherin families, and/or families of former Death Eaters.
"How'd he get Ministry records?" Harry snorted.
"Percy," Ron shrugged. "Gotta be!"
"Is that true?" Neville wondered.
"Go on, then!" Hermione urged Ginny. "Read more!"
I recently had the good fortune to find one such waif on my doorstep one gray, chilly morning. The poor boy was lonely, bored, and only in search of another child to play with him. As I welcomed him in, and he politely introduced himself without a hint of Dark Magic to be found on him, I soon found that his only wish was for snow and someone to play with.
He then related to me his heartbreaking story of how he'd been dragged out into the night by his natural parents, Death Eaters, to witness the horrors of The Dark Lord's attack upon Hogwarts. He describes in vivid detail the overrunning of the school by 'bad men', 'big men' (Giants), and the spiders who wanted to eat him.
Only after the Battle was lost to the Dark Lord's forces, did the boy move from his vantage point in the forest to seek help, eventually coming into Hogsmeade and taking up residence with the goat, Essie, belonging to Aberforth Dumbledore. It is very likely that Essie saved the boy's life. Our favorite barkeep then placed the traumatized boy in the care of Miss Thimblebrass at her shelter.
Unable to identify the boy, as he was rendered mute and an amnesiac by his ordeal, she struggled to find a home for him and named him "Jack". Miraculously, she was able to place the damaged child with none other than the celebrated Weasley Family of Ottery St. Catchpole. There, the boy began his long recovery, eventually regaining his speech and relating his tale of horrors. It seemed that he had, after waiting all summer, finally found a loving home in which to recover from his ordeal.
However, as we all know, life is seldom fair – even to an innocent child.
After much work, spanning as far as Moscow, Russia, by our sister organization, The Eastern European Society of Sorcery, Percy Weasley was able to identify the boy and begin the search for his parents.
Unfortunately for this boy, Mr. Percy Weasley was successful.
The boy in our cover picture, whom the Weasleys so selflessly took in, was in fact Jakob Lukas Dolohov, age eight.
"It were Dolohov who killed Molly Weasley's brothers, the Prewett boys," Mrs. Doris Crockford tells this publication. "And he got Remus Lupin, too, the father of Harry Potter's godson, Teddy. And we all know that Harry Potter is just as well a Weasley. I couldn't believe it when I learned that the adorable little boy I'd seen her (Molly) with in Diagon Alley was the son of that madman! I thought to myself, 'Doris, it takes a special kind of woman, a better one than me, I admit, to do such a thing – take in a child that come from such a life'. It warms my heart to see that there still exists such kindness and charity in this world, especially after what You-Know-Who and his forces did to all of us."
"How did Xeno find this out?" Harry gasped.
"Apparently Jakob wandered off," Hermione guessed, as they read on.
"Oh, my!" Ginny mumbled, reading ahead:
Mrs. Crockford, however, seems to have been wrong in her appraisal of Jakob's new family.
After a pleasant afternoon of conversation and tea, the former of which the little fellow seemed starved for, Jakob informed me that, "They don't like me anymore, because my real daddy was a bad man. I'll be going back to Cam and Miss Thimblebrass at the shelter, I guess. But it's OK, with all the kids there; I like that."
'Cam' is one Cameron Avery, Slytherin Firstie last term, expelled for an alleged nervous collapse given him at the hands of the Carrows and others during what should have been a very special time for him at Hogwarts. Cameron Avery is also homeless, and currently being treated by St. Mungo's in the children's mental ward, as well as suffering from pneumonia in having run away from the shelter. Oddly enough, one would think that the Slytherin students had it very good last year?
Guess not?
Jakob then went on to tell this publication that while it was nice living with Cam and Miss Thimblebrass at the shelter, that the food wasn't very good and he really wished that he'd had shoes, as his feet got cold. When asked why he didn't just run away, Jakob told us that it was too cold to go out barefoot in just a thin dressing gown, and that the children had no other clothes.
This begs the question, just what IS the Ministry doing in its handling of these children?
Must we ask ourselves, and I think we must, what DID these children DO to deserve such harsh treatment?
Why haven't the rest been placed in proper care yet? Why are there school-aged children THERE, and not at Hogwarts? Why does Miss Thimblebrass have only such a limited support staff, including one batty old House Elf named Croaker?
Perhaps it was, in fact, too much to ask of a family already so torn by tragedy, in that their son, Fred…
-story continues on page 12-
"Kreacher," Harry had to snicker.
"Dad's gonna have a stroke," Ron predicted.
"So's Kreacher," Harry agreed.
"That's just…intense," Neville shook his head. "I…I have to wonder? It's like, how would I take if I saw a kid named LeStrange on my doorstep? Would I just…shut the door in his face?"
No one knew what to say.
"Harry," Ginny finally spoke up, looking from Neville to him, "You don't think that Mum…?"
"NO," Harry cut in harshly, "Molly would never hurt Jakob. We know that! That was all an accident, that night."
"I just hope the Burrow's still standing when we get there," Ron added.
"Wh-whu? Err we derr yet?" Tristan slurred, just waking up.
Hermione hugged him tighter and sniffed. "At least this one has a family to go home to," She said softly.
"So does Jakob," Ginny disagreed, her voice full of defiance as she faced the others. "We're beyond this, Harry! If it comes down to it, then our Godson will just have a big brother, now, won't he, Harry?"
"'our'?!" Ron squeaked. "You said 'our'? Teddy's not your…" He then went very, very pink. "Oy! Something you wanna share with us, mate?!" He demanded of Harry.
"We eloped," Harry smiled deviously at him.
Ron fainted.
"HARRY! That was just cruel!" Hermione admonished him, as Harry and Ginny laughed.
"You married, sir?" Tristan wondered, which only made them laugh more.
When the Hogwarts Express rolled into Kings Cross, the platform was a mob of anxious families waiting to take their children home for Christmas. Harry was even surprised to see Andromeda standing there, with a squirming Teddy in her arms. "HEHW-WEE!" The baby squealed in delight, his hair turning black, and his eyes green. "It had to be his first word, of course, he couldn't say 'Gran'," Andromeda smiled, handing the baby off to Harry.
"Ma'am?" Harry wondered.
"It's been a long time since I stood here," Andromeda told him, putting her arm in his free one as Teddy laughed and tried to grab Harry's glasses.
Hermione then came leading a somewhat catatonic Ron along. "He was joking, Ronald!" She kept shouting at him. Ginny kept laughing at him.
"What's wrong with him?" Andromeda asked.
Ron pointed at Harry and Ginny, eyes glassy. "Eloped!" He mumbled. "My sister! My best mate! Eloped!"
"IT WAS A JOKE, RONALD!" Hermione slapped him, which seemed to bring him out of it.
"What'd you do that for, you lunatic?" Ron demanded of her.
"Maybe next year, Ron," Harry nudged him. Teddy cooed at him. Ron looked horrified.
Neville gave Teddy a quick tickle, then took his leave of them.
"I saw the article in the Quibbler," Andromeda went on. "Bit brash for Xeno, isn't it? I can't believe he'd do that to Molly and Arthur."
Harry shook his head. "Rita Skeeter and the Prophet lied about me in my 4th Year," Harry explained. "Xeno only told the truth. I think I need to go and see him, come to think," Harry nodded.
"Have you seen Mum?" Ginny asked, seemingly unruffled. "Has she seen it yet?"
"I don't think your folks want to see me," Andromeda sighed. "I was pretty harsh with them, especially Arthur, before he asked me to leave."
"Good!" Ginny snorted.
"Dad asked YOU to leave?" Ron gaped at her, and Andromeda nodded. "What did you say…Ma'am?" He added the title hastily.
"I sort of went 'all-Bella' on him for how he feels about Jakob now, remember," Andromeda shrugged.
"Oh, look, they're just there!" Ginny then pointed. "Well, Mum that is."
In the mob of people, they could just make out a bright red coat and a woven wooly hat in all possible colors. Molly stepped forward, holding Jakob's hand. She was looking very misty as they all looked at her. "What's wrong?!" Molly gasped.
They all looked at Molly. Then they looked at Jakob, who had puffy eyes and a red nose. He sneezed once. "Back home, and back to bed!" She informed the boy. "He just had to come, he did! Couldn't wait to see you! He's caught his death running around in the cold!"
"I was gone to the village all day once, 'for she found me!" Ron reminded them proudly.
"Were you really?" Jakob piped up, sounding stuffy.
"You…you haven't seen the Quibbler, have you, Molly?" Andromeda asked, as the two seemed to notice one another for the first time.
"No, but I had to turn the Floo off?" Molly replied curtly. "Seems to be an article in the thing about our boy here?" She gestured at Jakob. "Lots of nasty calls! Do you have a copy?"
Andromeda handed her one. Molly went pale as she read the words "No One Wants a Mini-Death Eater?"
"I'm not saying a word, and you can keep it," Andromeda added.
"GOODBYE, PROFESSORS!" A boy's voice called, "HAPPY CHRISTMAS!"
They all turned to see Tristan Scott standing there with his parents, waving. His mother was trying to fix his traveling cloak, and fussing about a chocolate stain on his green and silver jumper. The Trio waved back, and then the happy family Disapparated.
"Oh, Andy," Molly then blushed, looking ashamed, but still holding Jakob's hand – which was clad in a bright yellow mitten, "It's…it's going to take some time, but…I…you were right, Andy," She conceded. "I was in a state, and I…I don't know what to do? I've been horrible all week! Just horrible! I don't even seem to know what to say to Arthur anymore!"
"I seem to recall having had a similar row with Dora, once, about having Remus in my house," Andromeda admitted, and for a moment, the students all wondered if wands were about to be drawn. Then, suddenly, everything seemed to be all right between them as they linked arms.
"Wha's that about?" Ron asked.
"It's a girl-thing, Ronald," Hermione replied.
"Yeah, but Mum should be…"
"Shut up, Ron," Ginny nudged him.
"I'sh not dat bad," Jakob sniffled, as Andromeda knowingly patted Molly's arm.
"Oh, it's gonna be!" Ron warned them, reminding them of the magazine with Jakob's picture on the cover.
"Dat'sh me!" Jakob sneezed again, pointing and bouncing on the spot.
"Oh dear," Molly groaned, as they all Apparated away to the Burrow.
"This is creepy," Ron observed of his clean room, as they all settled in. "Where's my Cannons duvet [comforter]?" He wondered, just as Jakob came toddling in wearing a shockingly orange hoodie with the Cannons emblem on it. "Oh," Ron realized. Then his eyes went wide. "She even threw out my comic books!" He gasped. "The woman's gone totally mental!"
"Where IS that child?!" Molly was shouting from below.
"She wants to make me dwink poison!" Jakob nodded seriously, sounding even worse. "It makes my head smoke!" Jakob hid in Ron's cupboard.
"Pepper-Up," Harry smiled. "It's all right, Jake, it'll help you get better!"
"No!" came the muffled reply. "And she put a thewmo-meeter in my b-…"
Ron collapsed in laughter as Ginny came in with a bottle and spoon. Harry pointed at the cupboard.
"Have you seen Jakob? He has to take his medicine before his nose falls off," Ginny said loudly.
"Will not!" the cupboard protested, as Ginny hauled him out and convinced him to take it. Steam rolled out of his nose and ears, and Jakob shivered.
"Bed, now," Ginny ordered him. "Ronald, have you seen my pink trainers?"
"In my woom," Jakob sneezed again.
"Honestly?!" Ron grinned. "She made you wear Ginny's shoes?"
"With that hoodie?" Hermione looked shocked.
Then they heard a door slam.
"MOLLY!" Arthur's voice shouted.
"Daddy's home!" Ginny observed.
"This isn't going to be pretty," Ron mumbled.
"I gots go back to bed now," Jakob declared.
Before anyone could say a word, Arthur threw down a copy of the Quibbler on the kitchen table.
"Can someone explain this to me?" He asked of his family. "You can't believe the nightmare I've had at work today! And of course, Percy's been conveniently busy all day long!" He looked around. "Where's the boy?"
"His name is Jakob, Dad," Ginny reminded him.
"I KNOW HIS NAME!" Arthur waved the magazine over his head. "The whole bloody world knows his name now!" His gesticulations almost knocked the tray from Molly's hands as she came by. "Wha's all this?"
"Chicken soup, hot cider, and more Pepper-Up," Molly explained. "'The boy' is deathly ill!" She then fled up the stairs.
"Well maybe if he hadn't wandered off to chat with old Lovegood, he'd not be ill – and we'd not be the gossip stock of the Isles!" Arthur ranted. "Do you KNOW how this MAKES us LOOK!?"
"Like an arse?" Ron popped off, which silenced the room.
Arthur glared at him. Then his face went blank. He sat down. Ginny got him some tea, and a pint of Firewhiskey, just in case.
"I DON' HAS A TEM'PER'TUR!" Jakob screamed from above.
"What did you just say, Ronald?" Arthur demanded, but he did take the drinks.
"I just called you an arse, Dad, because you're being one," Ron explained. "Now I guess you know how Harry felt when the Prophet was after him, called him 'The Boy Who Lies', remember that? No one wanted to believe him either!"
Harry picked up the magazine. "Is this publication a lie, sir? Because I've never known Xeno to print lies. Fantasies, maybe, but lies? Never!" Harry then stated, picking up the magazine. "You know," he sighed, "Bellatrix LeStrange once gave me some very good advice," which got everyone to gape at Harry. "She said that to use an Unforgivable Curse, you really have to mean it. The night Sirius Black came back, in the Shrieking Shack, when I was thirteen, I wanted to kill him. And I would have. I could have! And forgive me, but I was looking forward to seeing a Dementor suck out Peter Pettigrew's soul!" His friends all stepped back as if Harry had become too hot. "And I hated Professor Snape! I so wanted to see him go down! And you know what? In the end, I did," Harry shook his head. "I got my bloody wish – he was dead. Died staring into my eyes! And now I'd give almost anything to have him back, to hear him talk about Mum, even to hear him berate me because I'm my father's son, and maybe…" Harry thought, "Because I wasn't his. But I'd gladly take that chance on him hating me now, if he were just still here!" He shoved the magazine at Arthur. "And I WILL NOT SIT IDLY BY WHILE YOU DO THE SAME THING TO JAKOB THAT SNAPE DID TO ME!" Harry shouted at him. Then he turned away, taking a step towards the sitting room where the Floo was offline because of all the calls about Jakob. "And I'd forgive him," Harry nodded slowly. "I…I didn't go through all this shite to make people hate children like Jakob. This…this wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. That's why I…I didn't want to see Madame Malfoy go to Azkaban. I didn't want to hurt Andromeda, and T-Teddy deserves to know his remaining family."
Ginny went to him, and at first, Harry made to shrug her off. Then he let her lead him to a loveseat near the undecorated Christmas tree.
"Look, I've had to deal with this all day long! I couldn't even call home, the Floo was so clogged with people calling about Jakob!" Arthur protested. "And you lot have the nerve to…," he paused, taking a drink. Then he put his head in his hands. "I just don't think we can do it," He gave up. "Maybe I am being an arse about it."
"Apparently, Mum can do it," Ron spoke up. "She came to meet us on the platform, and even made nice with Andromeda – after someone asked her to leave for trying to talk some sense into him?"
Arthur blushed.
"I think Mum's a hell of a lot stronger than you give her credit for, Dad," Ron added. "Tell me Dad – tell me what that little boy up there ever did to you?"
Hermione, who had been silent the whole time, sat down next to Arthur. "I think Mrs. Tonks knows how you feel," she offered. "Even Neville does. Something he said on the train," she clarified.
"Remus," Arthur nodded slowly. "But kids, how can I raise the boy when every time I look at him, I see the man who killed my friend? When I see the man who tore my wife's family apart?"
"Why don't you try looking for the boy who can bring it back together again, then?" Hermione asked, just as an owl began pecking at the window.
Ron let him in, and the bird had a copy of the much smaller Evening Prophet Weekend. "You did it, Harry," Ron called to them, "The Wizengamot let the Malfoys off with a slap on the wrist and a humongous fine!" He scanned the paper further. "Ah! Seems that dear old Draco has been upgraded to stable condition. Merlin, I hope they don't make him make up his Seventh Year with us!"
Hermione got up and punched his arm, hard.
"OWWW! Would you stop beatin' on me, you lunatic?" Ron protested.
"Don't tell me you have no sympathy for even Malfoy, with what they did to him?" Hermione fired back at him, "How is he that much different from Jakob now, other than the fact that he can be relieved that he still has parents to go home to? That he still has a home? How many other Slytherin children don't? This news might be why he recovered."
"You're defending him?" Ron gasped. Arthur looked confused.
"He knew who we were when we were caught and hauled in to Malfoy Manor!" Hermione reminded him. "And he lied to them! And during the Battle, when we left him, he could have brought even more Death Eaters after us – and he didn't!"
"What is all this shouting again?" Molly asked, as she came down the stairs. "Would you try to keep it down?"
Just then, another owl arrived. They recognized it as Percy's, and it had a small pouch tied to one leg.
It was filled with coins and a letter from Felicia Thimblebrass.
"It's our thirty pieces of silver, looks like," Arthur sighed, as Molly sat down by him.
Ron and Hermione left the kitchen.
"Arthur," She whispered, "I don't know what to do, honestly, but I cannot turn my back on a sick child."
"But it's just a cold?" Arthur wondered.
Molly shook her head.
"Jakob's got a temperature, and he's starting to wheeze."
Notes:
*Think Dory from "Finding Nemo" and "I wish I could speak 'whale'."