AN: 6.4k words, written by SeaFeudJagger! It has been a while, so, a treat for you guys! Enjoy!
June 8, 1998
Walking along the corridors leading to the Headmaster's Tower gave Harry a sense of eeriness.
To think that a year ago these halls were filled with throngs of lively students just going about their day; casually chatting with one another as they sat back and relaxed after a long week of exams, excitedly exchanging plans for the upcoming summer, complaining about the amount of homework to be done over the holidays. There was not a care in the world to be had except for the fifth and seventh years worrying about their OWL and NEWT results.
No one could have predicted that just one year later these same halls would become the tapestry of a gruesome warzone.
Blood spattered against the walls and floors. Classrooms and passageways blasted to pieces. Scorched rooftops and razed battlements. Dozens of furniture, suits of armour and statues bewitched to repel the invading Death Eaters, Snatchers, werewolves, Dementors and giants. A flurry of spells – curses, jinxes, hexes – flew through the air, exchanged in fierce and deadly duels scattered throughout the school grounds and inflicting significant damage on whoever and whatever they hit.
That the castle managed to remain intact was a miracle in and of itself.
Even after a month of repairs – with Hogwarts looking to be in far better shape than it did at the end of the final battle, when plenty of its structure was reduced to smoking ruins – the images of what had transpired within these halls could not escape Harry's mind. The growing number of bodies that had continued to pile up in the days following the Battle of Hogwarts had done little to ease the growing pit in his stomach.
Especially during that first week, it felt as if they were finding new bodies to recover every day. Some of the dead were found hidden in minor remote sections of the castle while others had been overlooked after the first tally. Yet, there were the ones who had gotten lost in the rubble or – and those were by far the worst – had been decimated beyond recognition. Whether they be students or Death Eaters, friends or foes, the body count never seemed to end.
As he thought more about it, Harry found it a tad ironic how he still continued to view Hogwarts as the safest place in Magical Britain despite the number of terrible things that had happened to him during his time in the school. With each succeeding year since his first, trouble always appeared to find him no matter where he went, especially in Hogwarts. It was kind of amusing, really, in a morbid sort of way.
He shouldn't have been surprised. After a childhood spent living with the Dursleys, he had been desperately excited to be part of something, anything, where he truly belonged. Receiving that Hogwarts letter, learning his parents were actually heroes, being introduced to the wonders of magic and the wizarding world – it seemed like his best ticket away from a life of neglect and indifference and into a place that he believed would welcome him with open arms.
Harry couldn't help but scoff as he ducked into another passage.
Little had he known back then that amid the joys Hogwarts had brought, it had also continued to bring him a great deal of unhappiness and frustration.
Just how many times had the school turned on him? In his first year alone, he and his friends had become outcasts in their own house by losing a, admittedly, huge number of points for getting caught out late at night by Filch after setting Norbert free. Granted, the anger everyone had felt had been justified to an extent but did that excuse the way they'd been treated afterwards as a result? The next several weeks had been miserable for them because they had no one to turn to considering everyone had avoided them like dragon pox. Then there had been the Chamber of Secrets incident, when a large portion of students had suspected him of being the Heir of Slytherin; that he was actually a dark wizard who took delight in targeting muggle-borns in the empty corridors of the castle and petrifying them – just because he could talk to snakes. Never mind recalling that he had spent most of his life in a muggle household not even knowing he was a wizard.
One of his favourite memories had to be that time when he was forced to become Hogwarts' second champion and compete in the whole Triwizard Tournament fiasco. Doesn't matter if you did it, you either participate or lose your magic and become a squib forever! – like he even had a bloody choice in the first place. And, of course, no one had believed him because why ever would he be telling the truth? No, he was Harry Potter and all he ever did was steal others' glory and prize money. Not even Ron, his best friend. Only Hermione truly had his back that time, something which he was eternally grateful to his best friend for to this day. And, of course, how could he ever forget the Ministry's and Daily Prophet's persistent attempts at discrediting him as a delusional fraud and an attention-seeking liar, all because Fudge wouldn't believe him. Maybe he should have paid the coward a healthy sum, considering that had worked rather well for Lucius Malfoy. Appointing Umbridge to the school staff with the intention of targeting him and Dumbledore had been just the tip of the iceberg of all the poor decisions of the former minister that year.
That the Ministry then had the gall to ask for his help the following Christmas and the Daily Prophet changing its stance overnight from "The Boy Who Lies" to hailing him as the "Chosen One" and "a lone voice of truth" still angered him to no end.
A saint one moment and sinner the next, all within a flick of a wand, Harry thought bitterly. I wonder what the press will call me next, should I ever displease their delicate sensibilities again. Dark Lord Potter? Maybe I should try it, just for the hell of it.
He had to pause in his steps for a moment and took a deep, calming breath.
Despite all of this, however… Hogwarts remained a special place for him.
That first time he had taken hold of a broom and tasted the exhilarating freedom of the skies, meeting his first friends on the Hogwarts Express and growing close to them as the months and years went by, the shock and glee he had felt when Gryffindor triumphed over Slytherin for the house cup, his overwhelming pride and joy at catching the snitch and winning the Inter-House Quidditch Cup for his house in over a decade, experiencing his first fancy with Cho and eventually his first love with Ginny... throughout the fun and hardships, his highs and lows, Hogwarts stood at the centre of it all, the one constant in a sea of ever-growing ambiguity that was his future. It was the first place he had ever called home and, despite everything that had happened to him in this castle, he knew he would continue to do so. After all, this was Hogwarts.
It didn't take long before he was standing in front of the battered stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the new headmistress's office. Glancing down at the slip of paper in his hand where McGonagall's neat handwriting was clearly visible, Harry had to chuckle as he spoke the password written on it – some obscure and high-level transfiguration concept according to Hermione when he showed it to her back in the common room.
"No more sugary sweets for passwords, eh?" Harry joked at the gargoyle.
The gargoyle didn't answer back but, judging by the flat stare it gave him as it moved aside to reveal the spiral staircase, it hadn't been amused.
Harry jogged up the stairs two steps at a time, curious about the reason for McGonagall summoning him.
He had just settled on an armchair in the common room with his friends, taking a break from another day of repairs in the school, when a paper aeroplane suddenly flew across the room and landed on his lap, unfolding itself to reveal a note from the headmistress, requesting for his presence as soon as he was able.
Ron had wondered jokingly if it was about the Ministry finally deciding to award them their Orders of Merlin. Ginny had responded by rolling her eyes and slapping him at the back of his head, stating if that were so then it wouldn't just be Harry being summoned. Neville had mused that it must have something to do with the restoration of the castle, since there was still a lot of work to be done. Hermione had been a touch more academic, so very sure that it must have something to do with the return of classes after summer and McGonagall inviting them all back for their final year. She had excited herself something fierce in the process. Harry chuckled. Good, old Hermione.
Harry had been content to remain silent and let them discuss it for a while before standing up and announcing that he was going to see her right now and find out.
Entering the office brought with it a wave of nostalgia as he was recalling his last visit to this room just over a month ago. He still held no regrets about relinquishing the Elder Wand rather than keep it for himself. Not that he would ever need to use it again, but if ever he did, he knew where to find it.
Professor McGonagall sat on a high-back chair behind the enormous claw-footed desk, penning on a piece of parchment with her thunderbird-feathered quill. Surrounding her were neatly piled stacks of more parchment spread across the tabletop. The recently appointed headmistress was taking to her new role with complete seriousness, it appeared.
"Ah, Mr Potter." McGonagall briefly glanced up from her writing to address him. "Please sit, I shall be with you shortly."
Harry obliged and sat down on the armchair in front of the desk, a rather familiar spot for him.
As he waited for the professor to finish her correspondence, Harry took the time to let his eyes wander around and take in the room.
Though the office still retained a certain level of charm to it, the absence of Dumbledore's strange gizmos and doodahs on their spindly tables, whirring and puffing smoke around, did take away from the oddity of the room. Many of the portraits surrounding the walls were snoozing gently in their frames, while some appeared to be missing, most likely visiting the other portraits and paintings scattered throughout the castle. Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait was empty; no doubt that he was checking on what was happening to 12 Grimmauld Place after Harry had decided to do a bit of housekeeping.
Try as he might, however, Harry couldn't help but keep his gaze away from the large empty frame behind the desk itself, where the immediate predecessor of the current headmaster was usually placed upon the end of their tenure. Dumbledore's portrait hung right next to it, though he appeared to be snoring softly.
"I'm afraid Severus's portrait won't be making an appearance just yet," McGonagall said, probably noticing his inquisitive look. "The Board of Governors is quite hesitant with allowing him the honour after his very public status as a Death Eater during the war. Some of the governors have even considered disavowing his position as headmaster due to the circumstances of his appointment."
"Bugger them! He deserves to have his own painting here along with the rest of the headmasters," Harry insisted. Whatever his personal and conflicted thoughts about Snape, which were more than he could even keep track of, Harry wouldn't ever deny him to be a brave and loyal man till the very end, perhaps the bravest one he's ever met.
"I very much agree with you, Mr Potter, and have made my personal objections blatantly clear to the Board regarding that point of contention." Professor McGonagall sniffed. "Unless they wish for the entire staff and I to resign en masse and have themselves find another capable faculty to manage the school, then they would be wise to heed my counsel. It is the least I can do, after all… considering the way we've treated him in the past year…" The new headmistress trailed off, her stern face turning into a regretful grimace.
Harry fell silent as well. The truth of what he'd witnessed in Snape's memories gave him mixed feelings, to say the least. It was difficult to reconcile the spiteful and bitter man he believed Snape to be for all these years with the broken figure who wept over Lily Potter's body, ashamed and hateful of himself for betraying the one person he had ever loved. How he had continued to look out for Harry despite the loathing they had held for each other, without even giving the slightest hint of his true feelings. The many risks he had undertaken and countless sacrifices he had given up just to ensure Harry's safety above all else were a bit mind-boggling for him.
Just how much of what Snape did was for me and how much of it was for my mother?
McGonagall cleared her throat, bringing Harry back to the here and now.
"In any case, that is not the reason why I've summoned you here today, Mr Potter," McGonagall said, steepling her fingers. "Tell me, have you been listening to the wireless lately?"
"Not really." Harry shook his head. "The Weasleys haven't turned theirs on since the war ended. We only learn news by reading the Prophet."
McGonagall nodded. "Well, I'm here to inform you that the trials for all the captured followers of the Dark Lord will begin next week."
Harry straightened in his seat, his interest immediately piqued. "When did they announce this?"
"On the wireless? Just this morning. Minister Shacklebolt, however, sent an owl last night to personally inform me. He also wanted me to relay to you that he would like you to attend and testify for some of the trials."
"Er, me?" Harry blinked owlishly.
"Yes. I don't entirely know the details of what you, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have gone through this past year, but it's entirely possible that you could have come across many of these arrested individuals along your path and can identify them. Your word, in particular, may go a long way in convincing the court to decide on which of the detainees are truly guilty or not." McGonagall paused for a moment, then added, "Now, I understand if you have some reservations–"
"I'll do it," Harry replied immediately.
McGonagall raised a brow.
"If I can help put Voldemort's supporters away, once and for all, then I'll do it," Harry said firmly and without hesitation. He knew that he would be right where he didn't want to be – in the spotlight – but he didn't give a toss. His comfort meant little to him compared to bringing all those Death Eaters to justice and locking them up for good.
McGonagall regarded him silently for a long while before finally giving a slow nod. There was a faint trace of a smile visible on her thin lips. "Very well. I'll leave you and Kingsley to further discuss the details regarding your role as a witness. Shall we meet at, say, ten o'clock in front of Gringotts before apparating to the Ministry Atrium together?"
"You're coming too, professor?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Why of course, Mr Potter. The Minister has also requested my presence as part of the hearing and, naturally, I accepted. There are a few Death Eaters that I personally wish to see sentenced myself for their abominable treatment of the students within this school," McGonagall said darkly, her nostrils flared with indignation.
The Carrows, he thought.
Harry had only heard snippets of them from Neville and Ginny, but judging by their haunted and grim looks whenever they spoke about it, the reign of terror Alecto and Amycus Carrow imposed upon Hogwarts must have been nothing short of deplorable, probably enough to make even the likes of Voldemort smile.
Realizing that Professor McGonagall was still waiting for an answer from him, Harry hurriedly replied, "Oh, uh, sure thing, professor. I don't mind."
The headmistress nodded in satisfaction. "Excellent." She stood up from her chair, prompting Harry to stand as well. "It will be good for the students to have some semblance of normalcy returned to this school once the next term starts, especially the younger years. This cursed war has left marks on them that no child should ever have to bear. I imagine Miss Granger is eager to know the list of reading materials this year? Not to worry, I'll send an owl to each of you three by the end of this month so you can prepare early. Merlin knows I still have to search for another Defence Professor again; if there is even anyone qualified enough left in this country that is willing to take the job."
"Ah, yeah. Right," Harry grinned, though he couldn't have hidden his reluctance if he'd tried.
"Is something the matter, Mr Potter?" McGonagall peered at him inquisitively, a hint of worry etching into her tone.
"No, no, nothing serious like that," Harry reassured her. "It's just that – well, after the battle, Kingsley pulled me aside and spoke with me about some things. He sort of offered me a job as an Auror, already – Ron too, even if we haven't taken our NEWTs yet or had any formal training."
"I see." McGonagall visibly relaxed, though her lips remained pursed. "And what does Mr Weasley have to say about this?"
"Ron hasn't mentioned it much," Harry admitted. "He's been busy with helping Hermione, though I think he'll join too if I decide to accept."
"And you?"
"Well... I mean, it's a great honour," Harry said honestly, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. And it was. Hadn't he always said before that he wanted to become an Auror, so he could hunt and take down dark wizards like Voldemort? This should have been a no-brainer. A chance to finally skip school and follow his dream.
So, what was this hesitation and uncertainty he was feeling?
"Would you humour an old witch and lend an ear to what she has to say, Harry?"
Startled by the professor's use of his first name, Harry could only nod.
"While I have no doubt Kingsley means well with his offer and sees great potential in you to revitalize the Auror Office, I am of the opinion that you have spent more than enough lifetimes fighting for yourself and the wizarding world," McGonagall stated, letting out a tired sigh. Suddenly, she looked as old and weary as Harry had ever seen her, so unlike the strong-willed yet caring Head of House he had grown to look up to. "You, more than any of us, deserve to rest after everything that has happened to you in this war. I will not dissuade you from whichever decision you might make, but I do suggest that you take a year to think further upon your future. Then, after you have taken the time, you may decide if that is what you truly desire. Until then, I do believe that you deserve to unwind for once and experience just what it means to be nothing more than a simple student within these walls."
Harry glanced down at her words, frowning. He didn't even realize McGonagall had moved until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I may not have Albus's penchant for imparting words of wisdom, but I shall endeavour to do so all the same: Whatever path fate leads you onto – whenever you feel lost or troubled and have nowhere else to turn to, remember this," McGonagall said, her stern face softening as she gently squeezed his shoulder. "The gates of this castle will forever be open to you, its warm hearths readily prepared and our food freely given. Know that Hogwarts will always be there to offer shelter and welcome you home."
June 15, 1998
"This is some date, Potter."
Harry sighed. "Ginny, for the last time, this isn't a date."
"Then why are we taking a stroll down Diagon Alley, just the two of us together?" Ginny grinned at him teasingly.
"Because Ron and Hermione are pretty occupied at the moment and you were the only option I had left," Harry deadpanned.
'Occupied' was an understatement. Harry hadn't seen Hermione this worked up in a while. The long wait for their visas to be approved, along with the lackadaisical response she had received from the Australian Ministry in regards to her inquiries, was starting to get on her nerves.
Ron, observant as ever, had nervously suggested that they go along with his dad for work so they could visit the Muggle Liaison Office and hopefully get a more proper response from their Australian counterpart.
The beam on Hermione's face had never been wider and the loud kiss that followed had left Ron utterly gobsmacked for almost ten minutes after she had left to go speak with Mr Weasley. Harry had hardly been able to contain his laughter at the sight of his best friend's dazed look afterwards.
Ginny pouted slightly. "Now, that's just mean. I don't remember you being this much of a grouch back when we were dating."
"I don't remember you being such a pain in the arse either," Harry grumbled without much heat.
Ginny snorted. "Oh, please. Like you don't miss this arse." Which she emphasized by bumping her hip into his. "There'll be a lot of happy blokes out there once they find out that I'm single again, you know. Just wait, I'm going to make you so jealous for breaking up with me, you'll be crawling on your knees begging to have me back by Christmas," she cheerfully teased.
Despite himself, Harry let out a chuckle. He certainly recalled a few Quidditch practices back in sixth year where he had spent half the time hovering below Ginny whenever she was stationary on her broom, discreetly admiring how the tight fabric of the cream-coloured trousers they wore as part of their uniform fit rather nicely around her legs and thighs. Not that he'd ever admit it to her, of course.
"Speaking of which, any reason why you brought along this little fella with you?" Ginny asked as she cooed at Teddy who was gurgling in his arms.
"Andromeda fire-called me this morning and said that she was badly needed at St. Mungo's for some emergency operation. She asked if I could watch Teddy because she couldn't take him with her to the hospital," Harry explained.
"What about your thing with the Ministry?"
"Eh, it's still pretty early." Harry shrugged. "I'd be a rubbish godfather if I don't babysit my godson even for a short while. Besides, that's why I brought you along," he said in a cheery voice. "You can take care of Teddy once I go meet up with McGonagall. He's pretty low maintenance, so you don't have to do much, but you might need to check his nappy in about an hour, just to be sure..."
"Wow, I feel so appreciated," Ginny said dryly, apparently not keen at all by the prospect of changing smelly baby diapers.
"... which is why I'm treating you to Magical Britain's best ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour right now like the good friend I am," Harry finished smugly.
Ginny immediately perked up. "Such a good friend," she agreed readily.
Teddy made a loud squeal, as if in agreement.
Unlike last time, when he had appeared to be in a drowsy mood, Teddy was wide awake, clutching at Harry's robes and gazing in wonder at everything around him while being wrapped in a baby sling against his chest.
Not that he was seeing much, Harry thought.
Many of the colourful shops remained closed still and not a lot of people stayed out long despite the war having ended. Harry even spotted a few patrol officers – most likely newly recruited – passing by along the streets and keeping a watchful eye for any fugitives that might be wandering or hiding nearby. Despite his outward displays of casualness, Harry remained cautious and kept his wand close; even Ginny, eyes alert and fingers twitching whenever someone came particularly close to them. He was aware that a few of Voldemort's supporters were still being rounded up and could attack him without warning just to avenge their fallen master. His invisibility cloak was tucked inside his robe's pockets in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
Diagon Alley was still reeling from the aftermath of the war, especially when compared to the other alley districts and villages throughout the country according to the wireless. But small signs here and there, like the reopening of Fortescue's and the many Death Eater posters being torn down by volunteers, showed that it was on the slow path to recovery.
"Say, Ginny?"
"Hm?"
"If you had the chance to skip school and… head directly for landing a job, would you take it?"
"Well, that depends on the job, doesn't it?" she easily answered. "No offence to dad and Percy, but sitting behind a desk and handling paperwork all day for the Ministry doesn't exactly fill me with excitement. Now getting to join a Quidditch team though… wouldn't that be something."
"But what if the job was something you thought deep down you always wanted but… now you're not really sure how you feel about it anymore?"
"Er… well… that's a bit more… complicated?" Ginny shrugged helplessly, a confused look on her face when she turned to glance at him. "What's this about, Harry?"
Harry felt a brief moment of hesitation before revealing what McGonagall had told him.
Ginny listened intently, neither saying a word nor interrupting him throughout the entire time he spoke, which was one of the many qualities he had grown to love about her – not as a girlfriend but just as a person, a friend, as someone he could rely on unconditionally.
"Can't say I disagree with the professor on that," she finally said. "From what little you guys told me of what you three went through after the attack on the wedding, it sounded like you hardly found the time to even sleep, let alone eat. It's a bloody miracle that you made it back to Hogwarts alive," her voice wavered a bit when she said that last part.
"We were on the run, Ginny." His voice held a certain weariness to it. "I could say the same thing about you, Neville and the others. Dealing with the Carrows and Death Eater sympathizers among the students can't have been any better than what we've gone through."
"At least we had a safe place to hide and we didn't have to worry about food or sleeping with our wands clutched in our hands," she shot back. "Pardon my French, but you looked like shit when I saw you again in the Room of Requirement."
Harry couldn't help but snort at her typical bluntness.
Ginny's lips twitched but her voice remained serious. "I don't know about you, but if I had lived through all of that and everything else that came afterwards, I wouldn't be so eager to head back into that sort of life again anytime soon."
Doubt continued to fester in his thoughts. Was she right? Were they both right?
Harry glanced up when a warm and gentle hand, slightly calloused from gripping on a broom for hours while playing Quidditch, touched the side of his face. He met a pair of determined brown eyes staring back at him.
"But that being said, it's not up to me," Ginny said softly. "Whatever you decide, whatever you feel is best for you, I'll support you all the way. Just follow your gut, Harry. It's gotten you this far and hasn't failed you yet, hasn't it?"
Rather difficult to do when my gut is split into both directions.
It didn't exactly help much in steering him towards a decision but Harry smiled at her anyway, if a touch weak. "Thanks for the advice, Ginny."
"Anytime, Harry." She smiled back.
It didn't take long for them to reach Florean Fortescue's, which had a small crowd of customers waiting in line as they entered the parlour. They were soon greeted by a nice young witch handling the shop named Jonquille Fortescue, whom they learned to be the late Florean's niece. Jonquille explained to them that she had been initially reluctant to reopen the shop after her uncle was abducted two years ago, never to be seen again. But after hearing news of the Dark Lord's defeat, she became inspired to restore Diagon Alley back to its former graces and believed that fixing and reopening the shop would attract people back on the streets. She kept the same name in honor of her late uncle.
Teddy appeared to be fascinated by Ginny's flaming red hair and kept trying to grab at the strands with his tiny hands while they ordered their ice creams, which she allowed, though she kept pulling her head away playfully just so he'd try to snatch at it again.
They were seated on a table to the left side of the parlour, waiting for their ice creams to be served. A steady trickle of customers continued to pile into the shop, Harry noticed, though not as many as it had been back then. Still, it was a good start and he had to admire the drive of Jonquille. Her uncle had been taken away by Death Eaters and this place has been made a mess, yet here she was opening it again as if in defiance of their actions.
Harry was appreciating the new decorations added to the ceiling when he felt Ginny nudge him on the shoulder.
"Psst, Harry, look who it is."
Curious, he turned to see who she was talking about and caught sight of a familiar face entering through the doors.
Daphne Greengrass strode towards the counter with an air of grace in her steps, long blonde hair tied up in a neat ponytail that still managed to reach her waist. She wore plum-coloured robes that stopped just above the ankles, polished black shoes visible beneath the hem. A pair of teardrop amber earrings hung in her ears, glittering slightly in the morning sunlight.
She spoke politely with Jonquille and stood patiently to the side while waiting for her order to arrive.
Harry must have been gazing at her for too long because her wandering eyes suddenly locked with his, blue meeting green. Caught staring, he immediately slid his eyes away from hers and coughed at his hand in embarrassment. Usually, he was a bit more subtle than this.
"Weasley. Potter."
He blinked, not realizing that Greengrass had walked up to their table and was now addressing them both.
"Greengrass," Ginny said in an even tone. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
The blonde pursed her lips as she eyed each of them carefully before taking a deep breath. "I see that congratulations are in order."
Harry finally found his voice. "Er, what do you mean?"
"I don't know how you managed to hide it throughout the school year or kept this away from the press's ears, but I must praise your tenacity all the same. I can't say what I would have done in your shoes."
Now even Ginny appeared confused. "What in the bloody hell are you on about?
"Your child looks wonderfully like the both of you," Greengrass clarified with a small smile. "A healthy baby boy by the looks of it too. Both of you must be so proud to have him."
Harry's thoughts came to a screeching halt once his brain finally registered the trainwreck this complete and utter misunderstanding was. His face felt incredibly hot and he wanted to frantically deny that Teddy was his and Ginny's, but all he managed were strangled sounds as his mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
Ginny didn't fare much better. "P-Pardon? she squeaked out.
"I can see the appeal in it, of course. This war has been a terrible thing and both of you couldn't wait until after marriage before wanting your own child. I believe many couples during the First Wizarding War experienced this as well so I'm not judging or anything. That you both managed to fool everyone into thinking otherwise is nothing short of impressive…" Greengrass continued to ramble on and on, with each word she spoke somehow achieving to make both his and Ginny's face turn even redder than before.
"We-We don't– she isn't– he's not–" Harry finally managed to sputter, then yelled out, "Teddy isn't our son!" He decidedly ignored the stares they were most likely garnering from the few patrons that decided to enjoy their ice cream from within the parlour.
"And I most certainly was not pregnant!" Ginny exclaimed shrilly.
"No?" Greengrass looked completely bewildered. "Then whose is he? He definitely takes after the both of you in likeness."
Ginny groaned loudly before covering her flushed face with her hands and dropping her head against the table with a thud.
Harry shot a baleful glance at Teddy, who sat in between them in a baby chair readily provided by Jonquille, now sporting flaming red hair and bright green eyes as he smiled toothlessly at Greengrass.
Not even a year old and the little bugger already manages to outprank the Marauders, he grumbled to himself.
Once the situation was properly explained to her, Greengrass became utterly mortified with herself. She apologized profusely for her assumptions and repeatedly insisted to allow her to pay for their ice creams as a way to make it up to them. It was a far cry from the poised pretense she put on display earlier.
"It's fine," Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Greengrass opened her mouth again. "Really, it's fine. It was all just a huge misunderstanding, yeah?"
Ginny mumbled something in agreement behind the hands covering her face, still too embarrassed to look up at either of them.
Greengrass appeared ready to protest again when he raised a hand up to stop her.
"Look, we don't need you to pay for our meal. It's already been paid and we're just waiting for it to be served before we can leave this place," Harry snapped.
The blonde deflated at that and glanced down at her feet with a frown, seemingly disheartened by what he had just said. Harry immediately felt guilty, remembering her heartfelt apology to him back at Hogwarts just after the war.
"But how about you join us at our table instead?" Harry quickly added. "If you're not in a hurry that is."
Ginny's head shot up from the table and she stared at him incredulously.
"Harry, you can't seriously be–!"
Harry met her gaze with a firm glare, showing that he was indeed dead serious. Ginny threw her hands up in the air before relenting with a frustrated huff as she crossed her arms.
"I wouldn't want to intrude," Greengrass muttered hesitantly, fiddling with the cuff of her robes.
"Please," Harry said with a forced smile as he glanced back at her. "We insist."
And so the three of them sat silently around the table as they waited for their orders to arrive. Teddy seemed excited to have another person join them and happily garbled baby gibberish at Greengrass who took it all with a raised brow and tilted head. Finally, Jonquille arrived with their frozen desserts and they each dove into their meals amid the awkward silence.
"If you don't mind me asking," Greengrass started, sliding a spoonful of chocolate and mint ice cream into her mouth then daintily dabbing at her lips with a napkin. "What's your name? I never quite caught it when we were at school." She directed the question to Ginny.
His friend looked ready to retort with a sarcastic quip when she caught his warning look.
Ginny rolled her eyes at him but responded in kind. "It's Ginny. Ginny Weasley."
"Ginny…" Greengrass repeated, her brows furrowed. "Is that a nickname for something? Is it short for 'Virginia' or 'Ginevra'?"
Ginny gave a slight wince at the mention of her name. "It's for Ginevra but I prefer Ginny."
"Ah," Greengrass nodded sagely. "Understood. Thank you, Ginevra."
Harry couldn't contain the loud snort that escaped him, even as he tried to cover it up with a spoonful of strawberry and peanut butter. Ginny shot him a withering scowl, which he returned with a rueful grin.
"Seriously, Greengrass. Just 'Ginny' is fine."
"But I can't possibly call you that. Nicknames are meant to be shared with those whom you consider close friends or family. And we are neither, aren't we?" Greengrass asked knowingly.
"Well, I mean, no, but…" Ginny seemed unable to come up with a proper response to that.
"Since we are getting to be familiar with each other," Greengrass turned towards Harry this time, "would you care to tell me your full name? Is it Henry? Harold? Harrison? Harvey?"
Harry blinked at her several times. "... it's just Harry…"
"... I don't believe you."
From the corner of his eye, he could spot Ginny trying to hide a snicker behind her parfait.
"You always seemed like a 'Harrison' to me," Greengrass muttered, almost to herself, before her eyes brightened up. "Oh wait, I have it now. How about a good strong name like Hadrian!"
The look of sheer befuddlement on his face must have been too much for Ginny because she broke into full-fledged laughter after that, clutching at her belly and slamming the butt of her spoon repeatedly on the table. "Hadrian James Potter!" she choked out before exploding into a fit of giggles.
Greengrass slowly glanced from the cringe on his face to Ginny's blatant display of amusement and pursed her lips in a bemused frown. "Was there something I said that was funny?"
Harry shook his head at the still laughing Ginny, then addressed Greengrass again. "Anyway, Greengrass– sorry, Daphne?" It was only fair since they were getting to know each other. "Ginny, Teddy and I are heading out to meet with Professor McGonagall here in the Alley after this, you're free to join us if you want so we can meet her together."
Daphne seemed to think deeply on his offer before she nodded with a small smile. "I'd like that."