Chapter 2
He Deserves It

Molly and Ginny had their back to the flames, washing up the breakfast dishes, when the Floo flames gave its familiar roar of a new arrival. Molly didn't even turn around. "Forget something dear?" she asked over her shoulder, assuming it was Arthur—well-known by the entire family for his laughable forgetfulness.

Ginny, however, glanced around, and before Harry could even catch his breath, she exclaimed in cheerful surprise, "Harry!"

"Harry?" her mother echoed, turning to look at the Floo.

Harry was relieved he'd missed their breakfast time. He knew his appearance would cause a stir. Two Weasleys at a time, especially these two, he could handle. All of them at once would have been unbearable. Stepping out of the fireplace, the morning light cast a full view of his condition. Completely drained of emotion, and with his injuries now settling in, he winced at the sharp pain in his chest as he moved. He didn't say anything—he didn't know what to say. Instead, he gave a small wave and let his appearance speak for itself.

"Merlin," Molly gasped, while Ginny's mouth fell open, both of their eyes widening in shock.

The mother of seven's instincts kicked in immediately. "Ginny, I need ice. Ronald!" she called out sharply. Harry tried to speak, but Molly silenced him with a gentle but firm push toward the nearest chair. Seeing Ginny frozen in shock, her mother snapped, "Now, Ginny!" Startled, Ginny shook her head to clear it and quickly hurried off.

As Molly looked him over, she immediately noticed the black eye and the blood on his cheek and shirt. But what truly scared her to the bone was the hollow, haunted look in his eyes. "Harry… dear… what happened to you?" she asked softly.

Ron thundered down the stairs, blurting out reflexively, "I didn't do it!" As he rounded the corner and spotted their guest, a grin spread across his face, momentarily forgetting his mother's call. "Harry, mate! Didn't expect yo—" He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on the black eye, his smile fading instantly.

Molly's head snapped toward her youngest son. "I need a handful of dittany from the garden—now," she added firmly, cutting off any further gawking. Without missing a beat, her attention shifted back to Harry, her expression one of unwavering concern and a clear demand for an explanation.

'Hell with it,' Harry thought, deciding he might as well go with honesty. "Spilled some coffee," he said simply.

"What?" Molly asked, her voice tight with concern. "How does coffee do this?" she added, already pulling out her wand to magically assess his full health. Ginny returned with the ice pack and gently held it to Harry's eye, while Ron dashed in with the dittany. "Harry, you've got a black eye, you're bleeding, I can see your jaw and tongue are swollen. You've got three cracked ribs, and it looks like you haven't slept in weeks."

"Blimey," Ron muttered. "Did a Death Eater take a pass at you?"

"No! No, no." Harry assured them with a dismissive wave. "I'd never put you in danger by coming here after a Death Eater attack. This was my uncle."

All three Weasleys fell silent, struck both by the casual way Harry said it and the results laid out before them. To a family that embodied love and acceptance, always making room for one more, this was unconscionable. Molly's face turned as red as her children's hair, her eyes burning with fury. She regained control quickly. "You two, upstairs, now!" she ordered, her voice leaving no room for debate or confusion. The pair obeyed, and Molly quickly went to the Floo, throwing in the powder. "Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."

Arthur's face appeared in the flames. "Oh, hello, love," he greeted, his voice warm but instantly shifting to concern as he took in the situation.

"Arthur, we need you home. Take the day," she told her husband firmly, never breaking her gaze from Harry.

He had been married long enough to recognize her tone and expression, and he nodded. His only question was, "One of the kids?" His tone made it clear that who it was didn't matter; his wife needed him, and he was going.

"Yes," she replied simply, returning her focus to Harry.

"Mrs. Weasley, he doesn't need to come home. The ice is more than enough," Harry protested.

Molly looked at the boy incredulously. "Harry, cracked ribs do not heal with ice."

Moments later, Arthur stepped through the Floo into the kitchen. "Right, what's going—oh, hello…" He trailed off as he caught sight of Harry, immediately moving to his side while letting Molly take the lead with her healing.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with grave concern.

Molly looked at him and replied sharply, "His uncle."

Arthur's jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists. Molly could see he was holding back, his anger barely contained. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the young man before him and pulled up a chair. For the moment, both parents set their fury aside, focusing instead on compassion for Harry. As Molly worked on his injuries, Arthur placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder and said quietly, "Tell me everything."

'To hell with it,' Harry thought. He began recounting the events, starting with that morning's breakfast and his decision to head to the Burrow.

Then Arthur made the logical assumption, but still asked the question. "This wasn't the first time, was it?"

Harry hesitated, stammering, stalling. For years, he had been conditioned to keep his troubles to himself, never burdening others with his pain. Arthur's hand on his shoulder tightened in compassion.

"Harry," he said gently, "we're the adults, and we love you. Tell us everything."

So Harry did. Well, not everything, but far more than he had ever told another living soul. Molly had tears fall down her face as she listened, and Arthur's emotions shifted between rage and heartbreak. Almost as painful as what he shared was the way Harry said it. He spoke coldly, calmly, as if recounting facts rather than reliving memories of pain. In the end, Molly hugged him so tightly that Harry feared she might recrack the ribs she had just mended.

They took a moment to catch their collective breath. Finally, with a nod between the parents, Arthur called upstairs for Ron, who came immediately.

"Ron, go get the camp bed set up. Harry is staying for a bit."

Turning to Harry, Arthur added, "Harry, why don't you get settled?"

Harry nodded as he walked upstairs to help set up the bed while Molly and Arthur talked. Once the footsteps faded, she looked to Arthur. "He is not going back," Molly said flatly.

"Agreed," Arthur nodded. "No question. Frankly, I'm looking for a reason NOT to apparate over there and hex the lot of them."

Molly reached for her husband's hand. "Lucky for him, because you wouldn't be going alone… Harry is the reason. Hexing them won't fix him."

Arthur nodded.

Molly chose her words carefully. "You realise, if we do this, Albus will be quite upset."

Arthur returned the hand squeeze, meeting the gaze of his wife, the love of his life for several decades. "And we don't care, do we?"

"Not in the slightest," Molly replied with conviction.

"At the next Order meeting, that man is getting a piece of my mind," he said resolutely.

Molly nodded in agreement with her husband. "From both of us."

Upstairs in Ron's room, Harry and Ron quickly set up the camp bed, but the tension between them was palpable. Ron, unsure of what to say or do, opted for silence. Harry, growing frustrated, finally broke it.

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, please just be normal," Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Ron shuffled his feet awkwardly, clearly struggling with how to respond. "Well… it's just… I don't know what to say." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Harry.

"That never stopped you before," Harry replied in a muted voice. The joke was intentional, but it was hard to put much heart into it.

Ron's face went from stunned to a questioning grin. "You cheeky bastard! You can still joke?"

Harry sat on the bed and looked across at his mate. He pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "You've known me for like… six years. Nothing's changed, it's just… more out in the open now." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Bollocks," he muttered under his breath.

"Language," Ron reminded, half-heartedly mimicking Hermione.

A small grin tugged at his right cheek. "You don't quite have the voice right."

"I'm a bloke, she's a girl. What do you expect?" Ron asked honestly. He kept his energy a little lower out of kindness but was glad to see some give and take with Harry.

Harry snickered. "Thanks, Ron."

"No problem. You know… a full summer with us would be pretty cool."

"Summers are usually quite warm," Harry replied dryly.

"You know what I mean." Ron flashed Harry a full smile. Harry was still there. "We could spend some serious time in the pond. Camp out in the orchard a bit."

Harry's eyes flickered slightly. "I really hadn't thought that far ahead. I didn't even have a plan for tomorrow, let alone the whole summer," he shrugged. "I just stormed out and…" He gestured with his hands. "This was the first place I thought of to go."

There was a moment of silence. Ron uncharacteristically chose not to crack a joke. "Harry?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"I'm glad this was the first place you thought of."

"Thanks, Ron."

Another uncomfortable silence. Finally Harry asked, "Ron?"

"Yeah, man?"

"I hate to be the jerk, but I've had a hell of a morning, can I just take a nap?"

"You traveled 180 miles today, and all you need is a nap?" Ron asked with a grin.

"Shut up," Harry replied flatly.

"I'll let you sleep. You know how we are—I'll let you know when we're eating."

Ron gently shut the door, which, quite frankly, was the bigger giveaway that something was up. Above him, in the stairwell, sat Ginny. Ron turned around to see her sitting and watching, silent as the grave. "Merlin!" he wanted to shout but kept it to a hush. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm listening!" she whispered sharply in reply.

"To a private conversation? In my room?" Ron hissed back, narrowing his eyes.

"Like you haven't eavesdropped on me before!" she shot back, folding her arms with a defiant glare.

Realising she was right, Ron sighed and mumbled, "That's… that's different."

"Damn right, it is! Because I'm not listening in to be a nosy prat! I'm listening in…" She paused, her voice softening as the fire in her eyes dimmed. "I'm his friend too… and I care." Ron had seen those fiery brown eyes enough times to know there was no escaping this conversation.

He gestured for her to follow him over to the balcony, where they could at least talk with less chance of Harry overhearing. Ginny nodded and silently agreed to his terms.

When they got outside, Ginny concealed her concern fairly well. To an outside observer, she might have seemed merely curious. But Ron, having been her brother all her life, could read her better than most.

"Ron, please, how is he?" she asked, her voice quieter now. He could see the genuine worry shining in her eyes.

"I—I don't know, Ginny," he answered honestly, his voice heavy. "I've seen him take a lot. You-Know-Who has hexed him, he's been caught in traps, and Merlin knows what else he's endured." Ron turned his gaze to the horizon, his brow furrowed deeply. "I don't know if it's Sirius's death, whatever happened today, or… maybe it's just everything adding up. But I've never seen him this low before."

"I can't… even imagine," Ginny said softly, her voice filled with empathy. She joined her brother, her fingers nervously twisting together. "Mum and Dad have always been so… kind."

"Gentle."

"Loving."

"You know, parent-like, and stuff."

There was silence in the air. Ginny, being the brave one, finally asked, "Ron…" Hesitation filled her voice. "You two have been roommates for years, so it's a statement of fact that you've spent a lot more time with him. And I love you, but you … sometimes you can be a bit …"

"Thick?" Ron finished.

"Sorry, but yeah," she sheepishly nodded.

"Today, Ginny, I won't even try to defend myself. And you're wondering if I missed something." Ron sat on the top step. "I don't know. You know how Harry is. He barely talks about his home. What little he did share was never anything good. But no, as I try to think back, I can't think of anything near this. I'm pretty sure if I had heard, I'd have reacted the same way I'm reacting now, so… no?" He shrugged.

"Yeah, that's true. You may be a git sometimes, but your heart's always in the right place," she reassured him as she sat down next to her brother. The pair of them looked down at the door, both trying to make sense of it all.

"Ron, I need a favor and, for once I need you NOT to be a prat about it,"

"What do you need, sis?" he said, looking at her much more openly than she was used to.

"This time, for Harry's stay, while he's here, can I be his friend too? I mean, without you being all pants about it? I'm going to regardless, but it would be really nice if I didn't have to put up with you to do it."

Ron sighed, seemingly sucking up a rare moment of maturity. "Yeah, Ginny, that's fair. I'll drop it… Harry needs every friend he can get."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief at least for one positive thing today. "Thank you, Ron."

Clearly, this moment was getting too emotional for him. "Um, I'm going to go let Mum and Dad know Harry's taking a nap now. They probably want to know."

Ginny followed her brother down the stairs and stopped just short of the bottom, listening. It was quiet. The pair poked their heads around the corner.

"Mum, Dad?" Ron called out. "Harry is taking a nap in my room. Are we good to come down now?"

Molly and Arthur sighed in unison. "Sure, kids, come on down." Without thinking, Ron walked over to Arthur and Ginny to Molly, both of them pulling their parents into a tight hug.

Then the men backed out first. Ron quickly made up an excuse. "I, uh, need to feed the chickens."

"I'll give you a hand, son," Arthur replied, giving Ron's shoulder a pat.

"Cowards," Molly joked as they walked out of the house. Taking a deep breath, she turned to her only daughter, placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders, and gave her her undivided attention. "How are you, dear?"

Rarely one to be at a loss for words, it was all the more unsettling when Ginny replied, "I… I… don't know."

"That is an honest answer," Molly replied, pulling Ginny into another strong hug. Then, looking straight into her daughter's eyes with a fire of determination that Ginny had only seen in the mirror, Molly continued, "But we're going to make it right."

Ginny shot a bewildered glance, her face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "How? What are we supposed to do now?"

The mother sprang into action, guiding Ginny to the table and seating her in front of a basket of herbs, plants, and various kitchen tools. "First things first," she said, "we're going to work and talk. Channel that nervous energy into something useful. I need you to help me brew more healing potions."

It was the standard Weasley routine—once you finished treating one of the kids' injuries, you restocked what you'd used, knowing that with seven children, it was only a matter of time before another mishap occurred. Ginny fell into the familiar task instinctively, as if it were something she'd done a hundred times before.

"Second," Molly continued, turning back to the potions, "your father's taking a few days off. He's taking Harry to Diagon Alley tomorrow."

"Term's just finished— isn't it a bit early for shopping?"

"They're not," Molly said, her tone steady. "Harry knows precious little about..." She hesitated for a moment. "Things he should. And he doesn't even know the right questions to ask. So your father will ask them for him. And believe me, he'll get answers."

"Like what?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern, not at all in an annoying, childish way.

Noticing the concern in Ginny's voice, Molly stopped fidgeting, sat down, and took her daughter's hand. "Ginny, you know we've never believed in lying to you kids, and we're not starting now. But we've always tried to respect people's privacy. You, more than any of your brothers, should understand that."

Ginny instinctively opened her mouth to object but stopped herself, realizing she couldn't argue, and fell silent.

"Thank you," Molly said gently. "Now, Harry will be staying with us for a while. I'm absolutely certain he'll want to talk to you."

"Mum, Harry and I aren't..." Ginny began, but her words trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

"Stop! Stop right there!" Molly interjected, pointing a finger at her daughter. "Ginerva Molly Weasley, I brought you into this world, and I've watched you every day I could. I've seen both you and him grow up these last few years. Now, I don't know what you kids call your relationship 'status' or whatever it is." She paused, taking a deep breath, her intention not to scold, but to make her point clear.

In a far gentler, more heartfelt tone, she continued, "The fact of the matter is, each of you honestly cares for the other. Now, I'm not saying you two need to start dating, or whatever you call it these days. But you will be supportive of him. This whole family will. He deserves that. He's earned that. Between you, Ron, and Arthur, he literally saved three of our lives. And don't think I don't know about him helping the twins with their business."

Ginny was genuinely surprised. She and the youngest four, along with Harry, had thought they'd kept that quiet. "How did you know about that?" she asked.

Molly spread her arms wide. "I'm your mother, I know everything. But I choose what, when, and how I intervene. You can just assume my silence is approval."

Ginny actually swallowed, her voice a little shaky. "Why am I actually slightly frightened?"

"Where do you think you got your edge from?" Molly smiled. "Besides, you're not the one who should be afraid. Harry's... family... relatives... Merlin, that's even too good a word for them. The Dursleys are."

"Mom... you wouldn't... hex them... would you?" Ginny asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Molly turned and looked at her daughter, her expression unreadable. "Yes... but I'm not the one who needed restraining today."

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "Dad!? But he's always so soft and kind, always joking. I've never seen him angry enough to hex someone."

Molly held her daughter's hand reassuringly. "Ginny, you are Arthur's child. It's his literal duty to be all those things to all of us in this family. He considers that a sacred duty. Now, he's never been too pleased with what little we've heard about Harry's home life. But when he heard and saw today… that someone violated that sacred duty to someone he's considered part of the family… we damn near apparated first and asked questions later."

It was a rare sight to see rage in Molly Weasley's eyes, but Ginny saw it now, burning unmistakably in her mother's gaze.

"But anyway, back to chores." And just like that, the rage was gone, or at least well hidden. Ginny was stunned to see those sides of her mother, but she couldn't disagree with anything Molly had said—not even about her and Harry's relationship, whatever it was.

She finished processing the greens for the healing potions and placed them on the counter next to her mother. As she did, her foot bumped into something. Looking down, she saw Harry's backpack.

"Mum, Harry left his pack down here. Mind if I run it up to him?"

"Try not to wake him, but it's probably best to. If he wakes up and needs something from it, I don't want him worrying that he lost it."

Ginny grabbed the bag and was immediately surprised by its weight. Why wasn't it feather-light like every other wizard's pack? "Harry, what are you doing to yourself?" she muttered as she carried it into the living room. She drew her wand and, without a second thought, cast the charm on the pack. Then, a second thought crossed her mind, and she added an undetectable extension charm as well.

As quietly as she could, Ginny climbed up to Ron's room and peeked her head around the door. There lay Harry, sleeping on his side, facing away from her. Slowly and carefully, she made her way over to his bed, careful not to make a sound. She was smart enough not to call out to him—hell, she was trying not to even breathe. Reaching the corner of the bed, she carefully laid the bag down. Her heart skipped a beat when Harry suddenly rolled onto his back. She froze, holding her breath, not daring to make a single sound.

Frozen there, bathed in midday light, Ginny could clearly see the face she had watched so often. The dark bruise and swelling from the morning had already faded, revealing the good looks she had been appreciating longer than she cared to admit. Bollocks… and also thank Merlin.

She gave Harry a good ten seconds of peaceful sleep, watching as his chest rose and fell, steadily and comfortably. He looked far more relaxed now than she could ever remember seeing him. Finally, Ginny quietly attempted to leave again.

But she was betrayed by a squeaky floorboard. 'Bollocks.' She could already hear Harry stir. Turning around, she decided to greet him—after all, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Gin?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep as he fumbled around on the floor for his glasses.

"Yeah, Harry, it's me," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed by his feet. Unconsciously, and without realizing it, she rested her left hand on his leg. It seemed to have a mind of its own, gently patting above his ankle. Once she mentally registered what she'd done, she froze for a split second, but then decided, 'to hell with it', and let it continue. Ginny was no stranger to uncomfortable conversations, but this felt like a whole new realm. Still, she was never one to back down. "I hope you're feeling better," she said softly, her tone genuine.

Finally, with his glasses on, he propped himself up to look at her properly. "A bit, thank you. Please thank your mum as well.'"

"Absolutely," she nodded, then remembered the reason she had come upstairs. "You left this downstairs," she explained, handing over the pack. "Mum didn't want you to worry about losing anything."

"Oh, sorry, tha—nks?" he trailed off, his voice turning into a question as he noticed the bag was much lighter than when he'd left the Dursleys. Curiously, he opened the bag and peered inside.

"Harry Potter, do you honestly think I would steal from you?" she asked, giving him an accusatory look.

"What? No. It's just a lot lighter than when I left, so I was checking to see if I'd lost something. That would be just my luck."

"Oh! No, no, no, that was me," she reassured him. "I noticed you hadn't charmed your pack with a feather-light or expansion charm yet, so I added them. 'A proper wizard's pack for a proper wizard.'" She held the pack up to him with an honest smile.

"Wow, thank you very much, Gin. I appreciate it. I didn't even know that was a thing."

"What are you talking about, Harry? You've gone school shopping with Mum and us several times. You've seen her purse." As the conversation grew lighter, she slipped her legs onto the bed for comfort, settling along Harry's side.

"I know such things exist," he explained. "I just didn't know they were charms you could add yourself. I've never even heard of Hogwarts teaching those spells."

"Oh, well, they're just kind of common everyday spells that most people know from, like, home and stuff."

Harry fell back onto his pillow. "Gin, those may be common and everyday spells when you're raised by wizards, but..." He raised his arms wide in mock frustration. His voice was flatter than usual, but his personality still shone through. That was a great comfort to Ginny.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't think."

"Don't worry about it. Wish I knew sooner. I would have packed my trunk and broom." After his moment of frustration, his hand fell back down, and his left hand landed on her calf. She was wearing jeans, but still, the touch registered with her… and she didn't dare move or say a word to ruin the moment.

"Wait, you cast them yourself? You're younger than me."

"Am I? Do you even remember my birthday?" she jested.

"11th of August." he replied instantly.

Ginny smiled, "Nicely done. Ron forgets half the time."

"I'm not your brother," Harry replied. "But what I mean is, the Underage Trace?"

Cocking her head to the side, Ginny laughed. "Harry, how bored do you think the Aurors are out here?" She shook her head. "We live here. First, they aren't going to care about a couple of low-level charms. Even if they did, they know there are like four other legal wizards here. Why do you think the mages that live on this side always do better in class? We get a ton more practice."

"I just figured you were smarter than most."

"Careful, Potter, flattery will get you..." Ginny smiled, taking great comfort in the fact that even on his worst day, he could still banter with her.

After a moment of silence, Harry finally tackled the elephant in the room. "How much have your parents said?"

She squeezed his leg reassuringly. "Actually, nothing. Mum's just let us know you're staying here, which is great." Ginny tried to sound more welcoming than anything else. "She has said you're entitled to your privacy, which I totally get, but..." She raised her hands, gesturing to the chaos of the house full of brothers.

Harry grinned a bit at that, then took a deep breath. Ginny could tell he was summoning up the courage. Once again, she held her breath, waiting.

"My uncle is a bastard, my aunt is a bitch, and my cousin is a twat," he said bluntly, his tone cold.

Hearing Harry Potter swear like that made Ginny's eyes widen. Not offended in the slightest, just shocked that this corner had been turned. "I—I completely agree," she said honestly, giving his leg a reassuring squeeze. "But you don't have to say anything."

Harry took another deep breath. "Ginny, for once I'm not trying to dodge a topic. I'm at a point where, yes, I'll finally talk, especially to you." He squeezed her calf muscle gently. "But right this moment... I just went over it with your parents. Can you give me a day?" This time, his voice was almost pleading.

Ginny's hand trembled, but she willed control back over it and gently caressed his leg in comfort. Leaning forward, she tried to show sincerity. "Harry James Potter, I have been waiting on you for years. And this is the biggest change I've seen in you... in like... ever. If anyone can give you another day, it's me." Then, sensing he could use the lightness, she added, "Though I may hold you to it this time."

"I kind of hope you do, Gin," he replied, his tone carrying more feeling than it had throughout the entire conversation, followed by another gentle pat to her calf muscle. Ginny's mind spun. Harry actually wanted her to follow up and talk.

Merlin's beard. If the git didn't screw up soon, he was going to get a tear out of her. She could already feel one welling up.

"How are things here?" he asked honestly. "I hope I'm not bothering anything."

She shook her head, smiling softly. That was Harry Potter. She slid halfway up the bed and deliberately took his left hand in both of hers. "Harry, look at me." She waited for his gaze to shift from the ceiling until those criminally emerald eyes were focused on her. "You are never a bother to me."

Where did those last two words come from? Ginny hadn't planned on saying them, but she didn't regret them.

Harry took another deep breath. Even though he was literally lying in bed, it was clear he was pushing through some emotional barriers. "You're right, Gin. Thanks. Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Don't worry about it." Trying to shift the focus, she returned to his question. "Not much is different. Dad's at the Ministry. Ron got hired for the sheep shearing at the Diggory farm next week."

"Ron… with sheep?" Harry asked.

Gin laughed. "Anyone who's only experience with Ron is school, I get where that would be funny. But shearing isn't too bad, and they were paying good coin. He may be annoying as hell, but Ron is reliable."

"Agreed," Harry nodded, a faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. That encouraged Ginny more than anything.

"I picked up some hours with Fred and George at their shop... Oh! Merlin! Did you know Mum knows about your investment in them?"

Harry's eyes widened. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Are you kidding me? You're the only one who could do that and not piss her off. You're the favourite child. Mum said so."

A slight chuckle escaped from Harry. "You're lying about that," he said, wagging his right finger. He was quite content to let Ginny keep holding his left.

She giggled. "Okay, yeah, I might be lying about the favourite child status. But to be honest, it's a conversation the seven of us have had a few times. But I am totally serious about her knowing you helped the twins out."

"Damn it, I thought we kept that one quiet."

"Me too! I asked her how, and she was all, 'I'm a mother.' I was also serious when I said she seems like she's going to be okay about it, which... wow."

"Blimey."

Ginny let a quiet moment pass. "I'm glad you came here, Harry."

"You and Ron are both getting soft," Harry said with a smirk.

"Oi, no one's getting soft here..." Ginny countered, freeing one hand to give Harry a playful slug on his forearm. "Wait... Ron?"

"Yep, after we set the bed up, we started talking. So, for once, you two agree on something."

"Merlin, I am... just shook to the core." She looked off into the distance, trying to process the thought. "Ronald Weasley took the day off from being a prat." She glanced down at him. "Harry Potter, you are the Chosen One."

"Okay, that's it." he said, sitting up and finally letting go of her hand. "Time to go."

"Harry, you know I'm kidding," she added, a hint of concern creeping into her voice.

Harry nodded and stood up. "I do. I do," he reassured her. "But I also know you guys have a house and a farm here, and frankly, what I really could use is a dose of Weasley normalcy."

Ginny rose with him, and as he walked past the bed, she dramatically grasped both of his shoulders. "Weasley normalcy? You are a very brave man," she teased. Then she hugged him. It started as a joke, but once she was there, she couldn't deny the comfort it brought. Harry hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. He even pressed his head to hers. They both held the embrace for a moment, several breaths' worth.

Finally, Harry gently whispered in her ear, "Thanks, Gin."

"You are very, very welcome, Harry," she replied softly, tightening for a moment before letting go.

"I should go check in with your Mum." He said, starting to leave.

"Makes sense. I'll be down in a sec. Need to grab something from my room," she replied, but kept her back to the door. She didn't want the git to see that he'd gotten a tear out of her.

Credits:

Author: Cmdr_Tom

Beta Reading / Editing & Gratitude: Mara