CHAPTER 43: HEROES AND HUMILITY
After a full day to catch up on sleep and come to terms with the vision he had experienced, Harry woke on Thursday morning feeling considerably better than the previous day. The idea of being pulled into the mind of a large, mutant attack snake was still daunting, but he could console himself with the fact that some good had come from it. He held genuine affection for Mr. Weasley and was pleased that he had been able to do something to help his friend's father. Hermione, accompanied by her parents, was set to arrive at the manor that day. Harry had obtained permission from Jean-Sebastian to visit Mr. Weasley before their departure for France the following day.
Hermione arrived by Portkey late in the morning, welcomed to the manor by the Delacours. Harry, excited to see his friend, though they had only been separated for a few days, looked forward to the upcoming holidays, anticipating it to be the best he had ever experienced.
"Wow, someone is excited!" Hermione exclaimed with a laugh after Harry had completed his rather exuberant greeting.
"I'm always excited to see you, Hermione," Harry replied with a grin.
He turned to greet her parents politely, receiving the same warmth in response. William and Elizabeth, her parents, were friendly and open, insisting on dispelling formalities by encouraging Harry to use their given names. William, tall, slim, and athletic, exuded confidence and a touch of intimidation, particularly for anyone who might develop an interest in his daughter in the coming years. The idea that Harry might eventually fill that role, if Fleur's wishes came to pass, was not a comforting thought. It became even more awkward when Harry considered that in the Muggle world, monogamy had been a long-accepted practice, and such an arrangement might not be received with equanimity. Elizabeth, on the other hand, mirrored Hermione in warmth, friendliness, and engaging demeanor. She was a virtual duplicate of her daughter, with the same brown hair, warm brown eyes, and similar height and facial features. To be entirely accurate, Harry supposed it was Hermione who was a duplicate of Elizabeth, rather than the reverse.
After a few moments of polite conversation, the three teens—accompanied by Gabrielle, who tagged along—excused themselves and left the room to catch up on the events of the previous days. Hermione's time away from school had been uneventful, spent with her parents and focused on Christmas shopping, though she playfully refused to reveal any surprises she had purchased for them. Harry teased her about it, fully aware that she wouldn't share such information, earning himself a mock-serious reproof in response.
When the conversation shifted to the events at the manor, the tone became more serious. Harry's explanation of the dream and the steps he took to inform the Headmaster and his guardian about the impending attack elicited sympathy from Hermione and a deeper sense of hero-worship from Gabrielle, who had not managed to extract the story from him the previous day. She was noticeably perturbed that she had slept through all the excitement, despite Harry's protests that he wished it had never happened.
"That's awful, Harry!" Hermione commiserated once he had finished recounting the tale. "But thank goodness you were able to help Mr. Weasley."
"Yeah, that's the silver lining, I guess."
"It will be okay, Harry. Remember, you have Fleur and me looking after you. Voldemort wouldn't dare try anything!"
"Why?" Harry teased with a grin. "You'd study him to death if he tried anything?"
Hermione sniffed with disdain. "I'll have you know I am more than capable of hexing his bits off if he doesn't behave himself."
The conversation between Harry and Hermione took an unexpected turn, transitioning from the weighty matters at hand to a lighthearted banter that proved to be a much-needed reprieve for Harry's stressed mind. It was as if Hermione, ever perceptive, had orchestrated this light and silly exchange intentionally to lift the heavy burden that had settled upon Harry's shoulders. In that moment, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the depth of their friendship and how Hermione always seemed to know exactly what he needed.
As the afternoon unfolded, the diverse group, comprising Harry, Hermione, the elegant Fleur, and the charismatic Jean-Sebastian, assembled to Floo to St. Mungo's. Their destination held the promise of a joyous reunion with Arthur Weasley, who was slated to be discharged the following day. Anticipation filled Harry as he looked forward to replacing the haunting image of a gravely injured Mr. Weasley with a much happier one.
Upon arriving at St. Mungo's, the group navigated through the labyrinthine corridors of the magical hospital. Harry's keen interest was evident as he observed the pristine white walls and narrow hallways, drawing parallels between this wizarding medical facility and its Muggle counterparts. While the absence of electronic equipment was conspicuous, the overall ambiance of St. Mungo's seemed surprisingly familiar, akin to any hospital he might have encountered in the non-magical world.
The air buzzed with a mix of excitement and nervous energy as they approached the room where Mr. Weasley was recovering. Harry's heart quickened at the prospect of reuniting with the jovial wizard, envisioning a scene of warmth and laughter that would overwrite the darker memories of the recent ordeal. Little did he know that this visit to St. Mungo's would not only mark the physical healing of a beloved member of the wizarding community but also serve as a poignant reminder of the bonds that tied them all together in the face of adversity.
Dialogue echoed through the corridors, a blend of animated conversations and the distant sounds of magical healing at work. Each step brought them closer to the room, and Harry couldn't help but reflect on the shared experiences that had forged these connections. Hermione, catching his thoughtful gaze, offered a reassuring smile, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken understanding that bound them all together on this journey through magic, friendship, and the unexpected twists of life.
With a turn around the corner, Mr. Weasley's room came into view, its door ajar, hinting at life behind it. The trio of Harry, Hermione, and Ron approached cautiously, their footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor. Suddenly, the door swung open, and the vibrant figure of Mrs. Weasley emerged, her face a canvas of genuine joy at the sight of Harry. Yet, amidst her warmth, a subtle strain flickered across her expression as she glanced at Harry's companions. Hermione, standing beside Harry, tensed visibly at the sight of Ron's mother—her last encounter, marked by the infamous howler, still lingered in her memory, and Harry sensed an underlying tension, knowing Hermione's feelings toward Molly Weasley were far from amiable.
Unperturbed, Molly Weasley bypassed the presence of Harry's companions, focusing solely on Harry, her countenance beaming with affection as she extended her arms for one of her enveloping hugs.
However, Harry swiftly intercepted, gesturing to Jean-Sebastian, silently signaling for the man to enter the room first, guiding Hermione and Fleur along. The older man caught the cue, ushering the ladies ahead, leaving Harry facing a bewildered and slightly flustered Mrs. Weasley.
"Harry?" she inquired, a small furrow marring her brow. "Is something amiss?"
"Unfortunately, yes, Mrs. Weasley," Harry responded, his tone composed, though he knew his forthcoming words might not be well received. Despite being just fifteen, he felt the weight of responsibility, understanding the necessity of conveying his thoughts, even if she might perceive it as overstepping boundaries. But it had to be said.
With a gentle sigh, Mrs. Weasley reached out, patting his arm. "What is it? I'll do whatever I can to help."
"I sincerely hope so," Harry replied, maintaining his composure. He continued, his voice steady, preparing to broach a delicate subject, recognizing the likelihood of her resistance. Yet, despite potential repercussions, he knew the importance of voicing his concerns.
"Mrs. Weasley, I couldn't help but notice your rather chilly reception not only to my betrothed but also to my best friend," Harry began, his tone firm but not confrontational.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of offense in her gaze. "I assure you, I was not unkind."
"No," Harry agreed evenly, "but there's a difference between being unkind and having been unkind, especially when it comes to Hermione and that howler incident. Frankly speaking, you never apologized to her for publicly humiliating her in the Great Hall in front of everyone."
"Harry Potter!" Molly's voice rose sharply. "I will not stand for this reprimand! You're just fifteen and should know your place. I raised you better!"
A calm but resolute reply came from Harry, his voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't raise me, Mrs. Weasley." Her reaction was palpable, almost as if she physically recoiled, her expression faltering. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. I spent two weeks with your family before second year, and another two before fourth. Four weeks out of my fifteen years don't quite add up to being 'raised'."
Molly sputtered, at a loss for words to counter his straightforward statement, for it was an undeniable truth. Instead, she glared, retorting, "You should be more grateful that we took you in and treated you like our own!"
"I am genuinely grateful," Harry affirmed. "I desperately needed friends, and your family provided that. Even though it was for a short time, you offered a caring environment, and I appreciate that immensely."
"But now that you have a family," she spat the word with resentment, "more grandiose than the Weasleys, you've cast us aside entirely. I suppose I should have seen it coming."
"That's where you're mistaken," Harry countered, maintaining his poise while infusing a hint of determination into his tone. "I still consider Ron one of my closest friends, and Ginny has become more of a friend to me since the summer. And I don't even need to mention the twins—despite what you may think of their exuberance, they've been the most steadfast mates one could hope for. I wouldn't be here if I'd truly cast you aside."
"Then why the attitude, young man?" Molly questioned sharply.
"Because you've hurt my friend and failed to apologize, and your treatment of my betrothed suggests she's somehow unworthy. But that couldn't be further from the truth," Harry stressed. "Fleur and her family are among the finest people I've ever known, and I'm honored that she's now my intended."
Molly remained silent, her offense apparent in her rigid posture and disapproving scowl. Harry didn't intend to offend or diminish her, but he was resolute in addressing her behavior. It marked a significant change in him. The Harry Potter of old wouldn't have dared to speak this way to his friend's mother; it would have felt akin to challenging his uncle—a situation to avoid due to the man's temper.
"Mrs. Weasley, I value maintaining positive relations with your family, and I believe I've largely succeeded. But I also need you to treat my intended with the respect she deserves and to apologize to Hermione. Until that happens, I don't believe we have much more to discuss."
"So, you want a public apology?" Mrs. Weasley accused in a despondent tone. "Should I send another howler or place an ad in the Prophet?"
"How you choose to do it is up to you," Harry replied calmly. "But I don't think humiliating yourself is necessary. However, an apology directly to Hermione is essential, regardless of the method."
With his piece said, Harry nodded to Ron's mother and stepped into the room, leaving her in the corridor, her gaze downcast.
Inside, the atmosphere seemed slightly tense as the Weasleys present—aside from Mr. Weasley, the twins, Ginny, and Ron—all seemed aware of the exchange. Harry's warm greeting to the room helped dissipate some of the tension, and Mr. Weasley's affable demeanor went a long way toward restoring harmony.
"Well, here's our hero!" Mr. Weasley jested, his wide smile directed at Harry, attempting to lighten the mood.
Blushing modestly, Harry replied, "I'm hardly a hero, Mr. Weasley. I just happened to be in a position to offer a bit of help."
"But to me, you are a hero, Harry," Mr. Weasley insisted, leaning forward and extending his hand, which Harry grasped firmly. "Thank you for once again coming to the aid of me and my family. I truly appreciate it, young man."
"Oh, Harry, our hero!" one of the twins chimed in with exaggerated reverence. "Absolutely dreamy!" added the other. "Thankful for your manly heroics and monster-slaying tendencies!" "Although, we think you might have botched the order a bit." "Quite right, Gred," the first twin continued, sharing a knowing wink with his brother. "You're supposed to slay the beast first." "And then ride off into the sunset with the fair maiden." "You've already got the maiden," Gred teased, casting a playful glance at Fleur. "But you've still got some hero work left!" Mr. Weasley shook his head at his mischievous sons. "Can't you two ever be serious? Especially about your father's savior?"
"Of course, Dad," Forge replied with a grin. "But sometimes, the room needs a little deflating," added Gred. "Saved and sound, time to let go of the gloominess!"
"Hey, guys," Harry addressed, purposefully sidestepping their banter. He greeted Ron and Ginny in the same manner before settling into a nearby chair. "How are you feeling, Mr. Weasley?"
"Pretty good now, actually. I'll be released tomorrow, back home in time for Christmas," Mr. Weasley replied, his tone laced with relief.
"Christmas at St. Mungo's would've been quite a downer," one of the twins interjected.
"For once, I'll agree with you there, son. Fortunately, I won't have to endure it," Mr. Weasley chuckled.
Gratefully, Mr. Weasley moved past the topic after thanking Harry for his help—a welcome relief for Harry. He didn't feel like he'd done anything heroic, simply acting on a dream. It seemed like a natural response that anyone might have had in his place.
The visit unfolded pleasantly, far from the potential gloominess. Mr. Weasley delved into his latest fascination with Muggle contraptions, the twins remained their exuberant selves, and laughter filled the room. Conversations flowed freely, and Ron and Ginny privately expressed their gratitude to Harry before sharing their plans for the upcoming Christmas.
As their stay neared its end, Mrs. Weasley entered Mr. Weasley's room, accompanied by a tall, red-haired man bearing an unmistakable resemblance to the Weasley patriarch.
"Bill!" Harry greeted him warmly, recalling the previous year when Bill had visited Hogwarts to watch the Triwizard Tournament's third task.
"Hey, Harry," Bill responded, striding over and clasping Harry's hand in a firm handshake, pulling him into a robust hug. "Thanks again, mate. Seems like battling basilisks and dragons wasn't enough for you—now you're rescuing my old man."
"I didn't do much, Bill," Harry replied, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"You did plenty, Harry, and that's what counts," Bill affirmed.
Grateful for the acknowledgment, Harry nodded, swiftly steering the conversation away from his actions. Bill had always been like an older brother to him, and Harry appreciated Bill's readiness to let the subject rest, much like his father had done.
Harry couldn't help but notice the frequent glances Bill stole when he thought Fleur wasn't looking. However, he recalled a similar interest from Bill the previous year, just before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. Bill's subtle intrigue was apparent, though he was aware of Fleur's betrothal to Harry. It seemed Bill was somewhat captivated by the young French Veela, and Harry pondered what might have transpired if circumstances had been different. Yet, being discreet and perceptive of Fleur's allure, Harry remained silent. Instead, he exchanged a knowing glance with Fleur when they had a moment of privacy.
The visitors bid their farewells after a few more minutes, wishing everyone a joyful holiday season and promising to reunite aboard the Hogwarts Express. As they departed the room, Harry reflected on his bond with the peculiar Weasley family. Despite his recent confrontation with Mrs. Weasley—or perhaps, in line with it—they had extended their help and affection when he needed it most. He hoped Mrs. Weasley would come to see the wisdom—however presumptuous it might sound—of his words and offer an apology. She had been his first maternal figure, and he truly desired to maintain a positive relationship with her. Only time would unveil the outcome.
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