Chapter 12 - A Weasley Sibling Sendoff
May 31, 1998
The Burrow was alive with the bustling, chaotic warmth that only a Weasley family dinner could bring. The long kitchen table groaned under the weight of a feast that would have made even Hogwarts' house-elves envious. Mrs. Weasley, armed with her wand and apron, orchestrated the evening like a conductor. She directed dishes to their final places while keeping a sharp eye on everyone's plate to ensure no one went hungry—or dared leave food behind.
Harry sat near the middle of the table, balancing Teddy Lupin on his lap while Andi listened with fascination to Fleur about the latest news from France. The baby, wide-eyed and curious, was entirely enraptured by Harry's glasses, making repeated grabs for them while Harry tried—unsuccessfully—to keep a straight face. Andi had sent Mrs. Weasley an owl asking her to Saturday tea, and after a quick back-and-forth Andi and Teddy ended up with invitations to the Burrow for Ron and Hermione's sendoff.
Ginny leaned over, gently freeing Harry's glasses from Teddy's grasp and giving the infant her finger to hold instead.
"You need to give Harry his glasses back, Teddy," she said gently. "Poor bloke can't see without them." There was a gurgled reply.
"I still think it's mad that I can regrow every bone in my arm but can't fix my eyesight," Harry grumbled, casting a quick cleaning charm on his smudged lenses.
"Eyes are very delicate," Andi said, turning to him, "extraordinarily complicated. Magic can be precise, but when it comes to something as intricate as vision, the risks often outweigh the rewards."
Harry tilted his head, intrigued. "But we can regrow bones. How is that not more complicated?"
A faint smile played on Andromeda's lips. "Bones are simple. They're structural, straightforward, at least compared to the complexity of an eye. The eye isn't just one thing. It's layers of tissue, muscles, nerves, and then there's the brain interpreting the signals. One spell might correct a problem, but it could just as easily disrupt something else entirely. Worst case? Permanent blindness or… hallucinating Hippogriffs every time you blink."
Harry frowned slightly, his fingers brushing the frame of his glasses. "I guess I never thought about it that way," he admitted. "Makes me appreciate these a bit more."
Andromeda's smile softened, warm and knowing. "Sometimes, the simplest solutions are the best ones. Besides, glasses suit you. They give you a certain…intellectual air."
Harry rolled his eyes, though he couldn't suppress a small grin. "Yeah, intellectual. That's definitely what people think when they see me."
Andromeda laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet kitchen as she returned to her book. "Don't underestimate the power of perception, Harry. Sometimes, how we see the world—and how the world sees us—can't be fixed by magic."
"Well said," Mr. Weasley said, tapping his own glasses and beaming down the length of the table. "Sometimes the only solution is time, hard work, and persistence." He seemed to take in the family he had before him and his eyes went misty.
The table fell quiet for a moment, save for the clinking of cutlery and Teddy's delighted babbling. It was George who broke the silence with a deliberate cough, his voice cutting through the hum of conversation.
"Speaking of hard work," he began, his tone lighter but his gaze flicking briefly to the empty chair beside him. It had remained untouched, though everyone's eyes seemed to stray to it at least once. "The grand reopening of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is officially set for July first."
A cheer went up through the table, punctuated by a squeal of sound from Teddy that earned him a wave of laughter. Ginny bounced him on her lap, helping him clap his hands together.
"Wonderful," Mrs. Weasley said, reaching for George's hand. "I know you and Fred were so involved. Are you sure you'll be able to handle it all on your own?"
George's grin wavered for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "I asked Lee to come on and help," he said. Mrs. Weasley nodded appreciatively and busied herself with her food. Though Harry noticed her sigh of relief. "He's still working on a wireless program, but he says it's a bit inconsistent, so he's happy for some extra work."
He gave his parents a sheepish grin. "I hope you don't mind me staying here for a bit longer. The flat above the shop is still not exactly…livable."
Mrs. Weasley waved off his concern. "Of course, of course. Whatever happened to that nice girl you had at the counter?" she asked. "Felicity, was it?"
"Verity," George corrected with a nod. "She'll be back, too." He broke into a sly grin. "And we'll have another Weasley on the payroll as well."
"Oh?" Mr. Weasley asked. He scanned the family curiously.
"Yes, well," Percy began awkwardly. He slid his glasses further up his nose. "A reopening like this is…extensive. And after the last year—well—you should have seen the state of their financial ledgers."
Mr. Weasley clapped Percy on the shoulder. "Good man."
Percy's cheeks reddened as he waved off the praise. "It's only a bit of help—some evenings and weekends," he muttered, as though downplaying his involvement might lessen its weight.
Harry stifled a grin, recalling how Percy, not so long ago, would have eagerly trumpeted his role in such a venture. The change in him was stark, and Harry's heart ached at the guilt Percy must still be carrying since reconciling with his family.
"But," Percy continued, straightening as a flicker of his old self-confidence returned, "I've also taken a position with the Department of Magical Transportation."
"Have you now?" Mr. Weasley asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes, actually." Percy nodded, a hint of pride slipping into his voice. "I have Ron and Hermione to thank for it, in a way," he added, glancing toward them. "Their trouble getting approval from the Australian Ministry led to some conversations with the new department head, Oswin Halloway. We discussed ways to improve the system's integrity. He seemed quite taken with my suggestions and offered me the position on the spot."
"Well done, Percy," Mrs. Weasley said, her face glowing with pride. Among her children, Percy had always followed the most traditional career path, and it was clear she took comfort in his return to normalcy.
"Charlie," she added, turning to her second son, "any news on that dragon?"
"Still at large," Charlie replied, shrugging with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "She's a wily one—hides during the day, travels at night. Based on the size and description, we're fairly certain she's a Ukrainian Ironbelly." He shot Bill a mock-accusing look. "But Gringotts isn't exactly forthcoming with details."
Bill threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just a curse-breaker here," he said. "Vaults and security are all managed by the goblins."
Charlie grinned and shrugged again. "Well we're calling in an expert from Slovakia" he said. His eyes had a faraway look to them. "This bloke is mad as a hatter. Practically lives with dragons year-round. No reservations or wards. No published papers or research. Talks to some dragonologists a few times a year and otherwise just…lives with dragons. Believes they're sacred."
"Sounds like a nutter," Ron said warily.
Charlie laughed. "He might be. But he's a genius. I've heard he's got dragon skin grafts on his burns—actual scales."
"Really?" Andi asked, leaning forward.
"Sounds like you admire him," Percy said.
"Absolutely," Charlie said seriously. "We've been trying to locate the Gringotts dragon for a few weeks now. If I can pick this chap's brain for just an afternoon…" He trailed off, his eyes wide and dreaming.
"Yes…well," Mr. Weasley gave Charlie an amused look. "And you, Fleur?" He turned to her expectantly. "Are you looking to remain with Gringotts?"
Fleur shook her head. "Non, my internship ended even before ze war. And I was mostly using zat to improve my English." She gave Bill a fond look. "And flirt wiz 'andsome British men. I was 'oping Beel would come wiz me to France to visit my family now zat everyzing is more…settled."
"Oh, Bill, you really should," Mrs. Weasley scolded her son gently. "Fleur has been so wonderful about everything."
Harry found himself marveling at the shift in their relationship. It wasn't so long ago that Mrs. Weasley had barely concealed her reservations about Fleur. Now, her tone carried the affection of a mother speaking to a favored daughter. Harry caught Ginny's eye across the table and saw the same thought reflected in her amused smile.
"I've been talking with my bosses about a possible transfer to the French office," Bill admitted, running a hand through his long hair. "They've got some fascinating work in the Catacombs of Paris. Not quite Egypt, but still plenty to keep me busy."
"Wonderful," Mrs. Weasley said with a nod.
Bill hesitated, his expression turning thoughtful. "It would mean being farther away from all of you, though. I've been…reluctant to make the move."
"I know, dear, but you can't put your lives on hold for everyone else," Mrs. Weasley assured him.
Harry couldn't help but admire Mrs. Weasley's strength. After all they'd been through, her unwavering support and willingness to let go of her children seemed nothing short of extraordinary.
"Speaking of moving on," Mr. Weasley interjected, puffing his chest with a smile, "I have some news myself. I'll be returning to my old job as Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office!"
There was a beat of silence before Percy broke it. "I thought for certain Kingsley would have you back at the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects," he said, his tone bordering on incredulous.
"Oh, he offered," Mr. Weasley replied with a hint of scandalous glee. "But I turned him down. During the war, it felt necessary, but now…I miss my old office. Feels like going home, in a way."
Harry watched Percy closely, noting the crease forming on his brow. He could almost see the conflict between the old, status-conscious Percy and the more self-aware man who had returned to his family. Finally, the younger Weasley's expression softened, and he nodded.
"I think I understand," Percy said quietly, his gaze sweeping over the table. Harry didn't miss the subtle, proud smile Mr. Weasley sent his son's way.
"Mum, with everyone out of the house what are you planning?" Charlie asked tentatively.
Mrs. Weasley gave him a sharp look, her brows arching. "This isn't the first time you lot have been off gallivanting," she said briskly. "I'll manage just fine, thank you."
"Harry and I are still here," Ginny interjected with a grin, but Charlie waved her off.
"Your mother has very generously offered to help watch Teddy while I'm working," Andromeda said, casting Mrs. Weasley a grateful smile.
"I would've—" Harry started, but Mrs. Weasley cut him off with a knowing look.
"Have you ever changed a nappy, Harry?" she asked, her tone deceptively sweet.
Harry hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again without a proper response. "I can learn," he muttered.
Mrs. Weasley shook her head with a chuckle. "I thought not. You're welcome to come along and learn—Merlin knows Teddy will love the attention—but you'll be starting with the Aurors soon. And…" She reached across the table, gently plucking Teddy from Ginny's lap and cradling him against her shoulder. "This little wizard and I will have plenty to keep us busy, won't we?" She gave Teddy a playful bounce, eliciting a delighted giggle. "I'm happy to have the distraction, truth be told."
"Bugger," George said, scratching his chin. "I was hoping to ask if you'd lend a hand at the shop when Lee's out."
Mrs. Weasley glanced at him, her expression entirely unruffled. "And why shouldn't I? I can manage both."
"But if you're watching Teddy—"
"Have you lot forgotten," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, fixing him with a pointed look, "that I raised every single one of you while tending the garden, cooking meals, and looking after the animals?" She folded her arms with an exaggerated frown. "Multitasking is hardly a foreign concept to me."
George grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Fair point," he admitted. His gaze shifted to Teddy, who was now happily chewing on the hem of Mrs. Weasley's sleeve. " I suppose Teddy might end up being a good hand with the shop. Start him young, you know."
"Brilliant idea," Ginny teased. "Exploding nappies—your best product yet."
The table burst into laughter, Mrs. Weasley included, though she muttered something about "cheeky children" under her breath. Teddy, oblivious to the fuss, merely gurgled with delight.
"You know, George," Andi began. "I've been meaning to have a word with you about your products."
Harry's ears perked up at the declaration. Andi's face was rather controlled, but if she was anything like Sirius, Harry knew she could be fiercely protective of her family. And if Teddy was indeed going to be spending that much time at George's shop…
"Oh?" George asked tentatively. Harry felt a pang of sympathy for George; Andi looked remarkably like Beatrix and Narcissa. Her resemblance to her sisters was undeniable, the same sharp cheekbones and aristocratic features marked her as a Black. It could be frightening to those less familiar with her, but Harry could already notice the differences: it was her eyes. Where Bellatrix's had been wild and Narcissa's shrewdly calculating, Andi's carried a quiet kindness, as if life had softened her rather than twisted or hardened her.
"Specifically, your use of Grindylow secretions," Andi continued.
Harry frowned. Of all possible directions, this was the absolute last he expected the conversation to move in.
"Ah, my secret weapon for sticky, gooey mayhem! It's the backbone of most of our slime-based gags," George nodded proudly. "What about it?"
"Well, I've seen firsthand what your products can do. Some of my emergency healer colleagues encountered more than a few cases that involved misappropriation of your products," Andi explained. "It leaves quite a mess behind with very few readily-available solvents."
George frowned awkwardly. "Well…not to be rude mind you, but that's sort of…the point?" he offered lamely.
Andi smiled, and suddenly looked nothing like either of her sisters. "Fair, of course," she admitted. "But in emergency cases it leaves us scrambling to remove it rather than address the underlying issue for our patients."
George grimaced and Mrs. Weasley shot him an annoyed look. "Yeah," he drawled. "That's…understandable."
"Are there any ingredients that could substitute?" Hermione asked.
"Plenty," George admitted, carding a hand through his hair. "But they've all got the same issue, don't they? We went with Grindylow ooze because—all things considered—it's rather harmless."
"True, but consider Flobberworm mucus," Andi suggested, sitting forward and tenting her fingers together. "Similar consistency once you boil it down, behaves in much the same way, but significantly easier to clean up. A solution of mirebloom essence breaks it down entirely."
"Really?" George asked, leaning forward in his seat. "Flobberworm mucus?"
"Before the widespread use of dittany most healers used it to treat and seal wounds much the same way that Muggle doctors used stitching," Andi explained.
"Oh! Stitchings! I had those," Mr. Weasley exclaimed proudly. "Fascinating inventions. Terribly itchy though."
Andi nodded. "It's far less irritating to skin and surfaces, and unlike Grindylow secretions, it won't bond to fabric or create toxic fumes when heated," she pointed out.
"Toxic fumes? Oh, come now, the fumes aren't that bad," George scoffed playfully. "They're only mildly…suffocating."
"George!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.
Harry watched as Mr. Weasley chewed his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Even Percy and Hermione were watching the exchange with amusement. For a moment Harry was reminded of all the Weasley dinners he had been to before the war had torn everything apart.
"Alright, alright, no toxic fumes," George sighed dramatically, as if it were the most outrageous concession in the world. "So Flobberworm mucus, eh? Not going to lie, that's going to be harder to market. Doesn't sound quite as exciting as Grindylow slime either."
"It may not sound exciting, but it's practical and easier to source," Andi countered. She gave him a pointed look. "And I guarantee you'll get fewer complaints from healers trying to un-stick people from walls, clothing, furniture, and themselves. Most of us are familiar with Flobberworm mucus applications."
George frowned. "I bet I could get Hagrid to help me out with sourcing," he murmured. He gave Andi an appraising look. "I suppose I could give it a go. Though, if this ruins the fun factor of our Perpetual Pudding Pile, I'm blaming you."
Andi laughed. "Naturally," she said.
As the evening wore on the lively chatter around the table slowly quieted. Plates and cups were cleared, save for the odd crumb or splash of wine, and the remnants of dessert sat enticingly on the table, though no one seemed to have room for another bite.
Teddy had grown fussy despite the careful attention of everyone around him. Andi, with a practiced ease, gathered him into her arms and rose from her seat. "I think that's my cue to say goodnight," she said with a soft smile, adjusting Teddy's blanket.
Mrs. Weasley reached over to pat her hand. "You did wonderfully to stay as long as you did, love. Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for having us, and for helping with Teddy," Andi replied warmly. She paused to glance around the table. "It was wonderful to see you all. I'll see you two next Friday?" Her gaze lingered meaningfully on him and Ginny. Harry nodded with a grin, and saw Andi and Teddy off via the Floo.
A contemplative silence settled over the table, broken only by the occasional clink of silverware as the last bits were tidied away.
"I theenk I weel 'ead 'ome," Fleur said, rising gracefully from her seat. She smoothed her robes with a practiced elegance and leaned down to kiss Bill on both cheeks, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. "'Beel, I weel see you when you get back. Send a Patronus eef you are going to be too late." She gave him a knowing look.
Bill smiled, his hands briefly covering hers. "Will do, love."
Fleur gave a nod to the room. With a flick of her wand, she summoned her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Moving to the hearth, she took a pinch of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantel, threw it into the flames, and stepped gracefully into the green glow.
"Shell Cottage!" she called, her voice clear and melodic. With a swirl of emerald sparks, she was gone.
Bill watched the fire for a moment before stretching lazily in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. Then, leaning forward, he fixed Charlie with a knowing look, a gleam of mischief sparking in his eyes.
"Right," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Orchard?"
Charlie nodded thoughtfully and rose as well. The rest of the Weasley siblings all turned to him with varying degrees of curiosity and caution.
"That means all of you," Bill added, his gaze sweeping over the table. His tone was cheerful but commanding, leaving no room for argument.
"Why?" Ginny asked from beside Harry. She arched an eyebrow warily.
Bill grinned, his face wrinkling at the edges of his scars. "Because," he replied cryptically, pushing back his chair and standing with an exaggerated stretch, "we haven't had a proper Weasley Sibling Meeting in ages."
Harry glanced curiously at Hermione shrugging helplessly, but Hermione looked equally puzzled. He'd known the Weasleys for nearly eight years at this point and this was the first he'd ever heard of a "Weasley Sibling Meeting."
"And since some of us are about to jet off to Australia," Charlie added, giving Ron and Hermione a mock-scandalized look, "we figured now's the perfect time to revive the tradition."
"Well…have fun?" Harry said uncertainly, catching Ron's eye. Ron, however, looked every bit as baffled as Harry felt.
Bill and Charlie exchanged a knowing look. "That means you two as well," Charlie said, pointing at Harry and Hermione.
Harry hesitated, a faint pang of discomfort flickering through him as he realized that Fleur had not been offered the same invitation.
"You two were Weasley siblings long before you started dating these goofs," Bill teased affectionately, smiling as if he could sense Harry's worries.
"And we like you better, so there's that," George added with a smirk, leaning back in his chair.
Harry glanced at Ginny, searching her face for some clue as to how she felt about all this, but she didn't seem to share his unease. Her eyes narrowed playfully at Bill and George, and she rose from her seat with a dramatic sigh.
Hermione stood awkwardly, chewing her bottom lip. "Are you sure?" she asked tentatively. "We don't want to intrude. We can help tidy up instead."
"You might as well accept it," Mr. Weasley said, his eyes twinkling with pride. He glanced at Mrs. Weasley, who was beaming as she began clearing plates with her wand. "You're both honorary Weasleys at this point."
Harry hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He followed Ginny toward the back door and stepped out into the cool evening where the rest were waiting for them. The sounds of the dinner cleanup faded behind them, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a cricket.
Bill conjured a firepit and some outdoor chairs, arranging them with a casual wave of his wand. A pointed motion from George ignited the flames and cast the group in a warm orange light. The older Weasley siblings took their seats around the fire and leaned back with an assortment of contented sighs.
George was the first to notice Harry and Hermione lingering just outside the circle of siblings. He raised a dramatic hand to his chest, his voice loud and mockingly scandalized.
"Well, well, what's this? Hesitating at the threshold of greatness? I expected better, Potter, Granger. You've been promoted to Weasley-sibling status for ages now. And here you are, acting like you need a written invitation."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked tentatively. She glanced back to the Burrow. "I feel bad excluding Fleur from—"
"Fleur is fine," Bill assured her, grinning fondly. "I love her, but this isn't her scene. Sometimes it's good to keep your interests separate." He glanced pointedly at Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. "It gives you more to talk about later."
Hermione crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "We were being polite."
"Polite?" George repeated, his voice dripping with feigned disbelief. "Oh no, that's not how this works. Weasley gatherings are all about barging in, eating too much, and making terrible jokes at everyone else's expense."
Harry smirked. "Sounds like your department, then."
"Exactly!" George grinned, clapping his hands together. "So stop hovering and get in here before we revoke your honorary ginger cards. Tonight you're Weasleys."
At that, Harry and Hermione finally stepped forward, joining the circle of siblings in the firelight. George gave them an approving nod as they did. "That's more like it," he said.
"So…what is all this?" Ron asked, eyeing his older brothers warily from his seat.
Bill shot Charlie a grin. "This is your birthright," he said with a chuckle, producing a bottle of Firewhiskey from his magically-extended pocket. "Charlie and I started this when he came of-age. Just a way to get a break from the kid stuff, you know?"
"Ouch," Ginny muttered.
"You were a handful," Bill said. He shot George a teasing glare, "Some more than others." He immediately seemed to regret calling attention to the Fred-George duo, but George managed a tight smile. Bill took a pointed drink of Firewhiskey and raised the bottle high.
"It's called 'talent,' oh eldest brother of mine," George tried playfully, with a smile that Harry didn't fully buy.
Bill cleared his throat and took another swig from the bottle before passing it to Charlie. "Anyway," Charlie said, taking a drink himself and coughing slightly at the burn, "we kept it going when Percy came of age. Then George—and Fred, too, of course." His voice hitched slightly on Fred's name, but he plowed on.
Harry's brow furrowed as he tried to place the twins' coming-of-age birthday. He realized it must have been during the summer before his fifth year—the summer he'd spent stuck with the Dursleys while the Weasleys had been divided by Percy's estrangement.
"That gathering was a bit more tense," Percy said, his attention fixed awkwardly on a chip in the wood of his chair. "That was…my fault."
Charlie handed the Firewhiskey bottle over to Percy and clapped him on the back. "We never got to read Ron in on the tradition last year," he said, brushing past the issue. "And now with everything going on. With all of us heading off our own ways…Bill and I thought we should bring it together again."
"Hang on," Ron interrupted, frowning. "Ginny's not even of age."
Ginny kicked his shin and glared at him pointedly.
"Well, you're not!" he insisted, looking around the fire for some support.
"Close enough," Charlie said with a shrug.
Bill shook his head. "She fought Bellatrix Lestrange. She gets to join."
"Bloody well bet I do!" Ginny declared. She snatched the Firewhiskey bottle from Percy, took a bold swig, and immediately turned pink as a trail of steam curled from her mouth. "I deserve a fucking cake!"
"The only one of us even remotely qualified to bake you an 'I fought Bellatrix Lestrange' cake is Mum," George pointed out, accepting the bottle from her graciously. "And she's the one who actually beat her."
"I know how to bake a little. I could do it," Harry volunteered, to a collective eye-roll from the Weasleys.
"Oh, brilliant," Charlie said with mock enthusiasm. "The Boy Who Lived and now The Boy Who Bakes. You'll have Mum crowing for years!" His voice climbed an octave as he mimicked their mother. "Oh, Charlie, why can't you be a good son like Harry? He doesn't run off to Romania. He saved the world and still sets the table for dinner every night."
"You call that Mum?" George scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He cleared his throat and raised his voice as well. "Harry and Hermione are such good children. I will reward them with treacle tart and knitted jumpers."
The laughter that erupted from the siblings felt warm and easy, a welcome break from the somber notes of the evening. Harry couldn't help but laugh along as he accepted the bottle from George. He took a careful sip, the fiery liquid blazing a path down his throat and spreading warmth through his chest like a rogue heating charm.
"Don't worry, Ginny takes care of all the rewards Harry needs," Hermione said under her breath.
Harry nearly inhaled the Firewhiskey, coughing and spluttering gracelessly. The siblings erupted into a cacophony of protests and exaggerated groans.
"Oi! Tonight is not about that," Charlie declared, his tone firm as he wagged a disapproving finger. "Tonight you're Weasleys." He fixed Harry and Hermione with a pointed glare. "You're not dating. Not tonight. So we don't want to hear about any of that." He turned his glare to Ron and Ginny. "From either of you."
"I still haven't done anything to deserve being kicked or yelled at," Ron protested.
This protest, of course, did nothing to spare him from further jabs at his expense. But Harry noticed something different this time. The teasing wasn't limited to Ron, nor was it sharp or pointed—it was easy, lighthearted, and, above all, shared equally among the siblings. Even Percy, who had once been so rigid and distant, joined in with a dry quip that sent George into peals of laughter.
The war was over, and with it had gone the cracks and tensions that had splintered the family. Now, they were mending, stronger and closer than ever.
And—once again—they had included him.
Harry felt the familiar warmth spreading through his chest again, only this time he knew it had nothing to do with the Firewhiskey.
"I have something to say," Percy declared abruptly, rising to his feet. His face was red, and he swayed slightly, steadying himself on the back of his chair. "The last time we did this… well…" He paused, struggling to string the words together. "I owe you all an apology."
The mood around the fire sobered, despite the Firewhiskey. Ginny had drawn her knees up to her chest. Ron seemed to be looking everywhere except at Percy. Bill and Charlie were staring into the fire. Only George seemed to manage to look at Percy.
"I was awful to you—all of you," Percy continued, his fists clenched at his sides. "To Mum and Dad… to the family. All you ever wanted was to stand together, and I—I walked away. I betrayed you." His voice cracked, and he turned to Harry, his eyes glassy. "And you, Harry. I doubted you. After everything you'd done for my family."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, his instinct to protest rising. "Percy, it's—"
But Percy raised a hand, cutting him off. "No. Let me finish." He wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve, drawing a shaky breath. "The first thing Mum and Dad told me when they brought you two home after you were born," he said, his voice trembling as he looked at George, and Harry knew he was talking about Fred too, "was that I was your big brother. That it was my responsibility to look after you, to protect you. Like Bill and Charlie looked after me." His voice broke, and he let out a bitter laugh. "And I failed. I let you all down."
George stood, his face unreadable as he crossed the circle. On the way, he plucked the Firewhiskey bottle from Bill's loose grip. He stopped in front of Percy, looking at him intently, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Well," George began, his voice uncharacteristically soft, "Fred forgave you."
Percy flinched as though the name had struck him, but George didn't look away. "You were there with him at the end," George continued. "You stood with him. And you finally told a joke worth laughing at." A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at George's lips as he raised the bottle high. "So…welcome home, Percy."
Percy's composure shattered. Tears spilled freely as he pulled George into a fierce embrace, his arms trembling. "I never got to tell him," Percy choked out, his voice thick with grief. "So I'll tell you—how proud I was of you both. That you did something so outrageous and made it work. That you built something incredible. It drove me mad," he admitted with a raw, strangled laugh. "Because I could never have done that. I'd have been terrified. But you did it. And I was so proud. I just never told him."
George sniffed, his own tears threatening to spill over. "Perce," he said, his voice tight, "it's okay."
"It's not," Percy whispered, his breath hitching as he fought to steady himself. "He was," he sucked in a shuddering breath, "my little brother."
Percy all but collapsed, sobbing into George's shoulder. George held him tightly, one hand gripping Percy's back, the other clutching the bottle of Firewhiskey. Harry didn't know what to do—his instinct was to look away, to give Percy privacy in his grief—but before he could, the Weasleys were moving.
Before Harry even realized it, the rest of the Weasleys were forming a circle around Percy and George, and without thinking, Harry found himself drawn into their embrace. Whether it was his own doing or because someone had tugged him in, he couldn't be sure, but suddenly he was enveloped in more arms and warmth than he'd ever experienced in his life. It was almost overwhelming to be part of it—the weight of their shared sorrow, the strength of their bond—but in that moment, Harry felt that he belonged.
When the family finally pulled apart, there was a sense of ease among them, a quiet understanding that didn't need words. Harry kept his arm around Ginny, and this time her brothers didn't seem to mind. In fact, none of them seemed to notice. The Firewhiskey bottle continued its journey around the circle, though Harry had a sneaking suspicion someone was magically refilling it.
The conversation picked up again, lighter now, with Charlie leaning forward to share an increasingly animated story about the dragon expert coming to consult. Harry found himself laughing as Ron launched into a dramatic retelling of their Divination classes, complete with exaggerated impressions of Trelawney and increasingly grim—and absurd—fates he and Harry had predicted for each other.
"Do you think she'd go back and revise my grade now knowing that I was right about all the suffering we were going to go through?" he asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Bloody hell, I was even right about you dying!"
Harry rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated scoff. He realized, with a flicker of surprise, how little the mention of his death rattled him now. The rest of the Weasleys chuckled, their laughter a second slower, as if gauging his reaction before joining in.
George cleared his throat, leaning forward with a slightly unsteady sway. "That reminds me," he said, his words slurred just enough to reveal the Firewhiskey's effects. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Harry…why do you reckon Fred wasn't there with you that night in the forest? I just—" He hesitated, glancing briefly at Ginny before returning his gaze to Harry. "I keep thinking about it."
The laughter faded, leaving a charged silence. Harry felt the weight of their stares. Even Ginny had shifted in his lap, her eyes searching his face.
"I don't know," Harry admitted, the words heavy as they left his mouth. "I don't know how the stone decides who to call…or if it even decides at all." He glanced at the fire, his thoughts drifting. He'd really not spared a lot of thought to who had come to see him and why. He'd seen them at peace when they'd come to collect him. That had been enough to put him at ease. "I've lost so many people. Maybe it only called the ones I needed most at that moment."
George's brow furrowed deeply, conflict flickering across his face. "And you didn't need Fred?" he asked, his voice raw.
Harry shrugged helplessly. "Maybe…or maybe Fred would've reminded me too much of everyone I was leaving behind," he said quietly, though even he wasn't sure if he believed it. He stared into the flames, words forming on his tongue as an idea began to take shape. "Maybe seeing him would've made me lose my nerve. I really don't know, George."
"But what do you think?" Hermione's voice was soft, but her gaze was piercing. "If this were last year, if we were still trying to figure it all out—needed something to go on—what would you say?"
Harry took a steadying breath, letting his mind wander to those long, intense hours spent in Dumbledore's office, piecing together truths that often felt like guesses; the feeling that sometimes belief in the answers were enough. He stared hard into the fire, imagining Dumbledore's office and the whirling devices.
"When they came for me, I didn't have to explain anything. They knew, like they'd been with me. Maybe even the entire time," he said slowly, his voice gaining strength. "I think—I'd like to think—that the stone maybe just showed me the ones who were with me at that time. That it didn't force anyone else to come to me if they were needed somewhere else."
George's face twisted, pain etched into every line. His voice, thick with emotion, cracked as he spoke. "Where could Fred possibly have needed to be more?" he asked, the desperation in his words cutting through Harry like a knife.
The answer came to Harry as easily as breathing, as if it had been waiting for him all along. He met George's eyes across the fire, his voice steady and sure. "Isn't it obvious? With you."
For a long moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of the trees in the orchard. George stared at Harry, his expression unreadable, before a small, pained smile ghosted across his face. He looked down at the Firewhiskey bottle in his hands and raised it high.
"To Fred," he said, his voice stronger now, carrying over the stillness.
"To Fred," the others echoed, their voices a chorus of warmth and grief. The bottle passed from hand to hand again, and each of them took a sip in silent tribute.
After a while, the circle began to dissolve. Bill and Charlie rose first, muttering something about early mornings and not wanting to face Fleur or the dragon search in their current states, respectively. Percy helped George to his feet, their arms slung over each other's shoulders. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared at some point, bustling quietly as they herded the others back toward the house, offering blankets and soft words for those who lingered.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny remained where they were as the fire burned lower. The air was cooler now, as the warmth of the day gave way to the crispness of the night. The orchard felt quieter, as though it were holding its breath, listening to the unspoken things that hung between the four of them. Ginny leaned her head against Harry's shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. Hermione rested her chin on her knees, gazing into the embers with Ron's arms around her.
"Feels strange," Ron murmured, breaking the silence. "Having everyone together like this. Like—like we're all trying to move on together, but still saying goodbye. I think…" he cautioned a glance at Hermione, "I think I'm only just starting to realize it's over."
"The hard part comes next," Harry said, his eyes locked on the flames. "Living. It's harder.
"It'll always be there," Hermione said softly, glancing up at him. "But so will this. Nights like this. Laughing together, remembering. That's how we keep going."
Ginny stirred beside Harry, her voice quiet but steady. "It's how we make sure it mattered. That it all meant something."
Harry didn't say anything, but he reached for Ginny's hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He felt the weight of Ron's gaze and turned to meet it, nodding once. Ron nodded back, a flicker of understanding passing between them. They had survived, all of them, and now they had to live.
The fire crackled softly, sending sparks drifting into the night sky, and the four of them sat together in companionable silence, watching as the stars began to emerge above the treetops.
June 1, 1998
The Leaky Cauldron was bustling with its usual midday crowd, witches and wizards squeezing through the narrow tables, their conversations punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses or the rustle of robes. Harry and Ginny slipped into a corner booth, Ginny brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear as she scanned the room.
"That went better than I expected," she said, glancing at the door as though Ron and Hermione might reappear at any moment. "Mum barely cried, and Dad didn't even mention protective enchantments."
"I'm more surprised they didn't mention other protective spells," Harry replied, smirking.
Ginny laughed softly. "I'm just relieved they're finally going. Hermione's been worrying about her parents for weeks, and Ron—well, she's been great to him—to all of us—through everything."
Harry chuckled, though his thoughts lingered on the farewell. Seeing Ron and Hermione leave had stirred something inside him—a nervous ache he couldn't quite name.
"You didn't tell him about the spiders, right?" he asked, looking at her over his menu
Ginny fixed him with a raised eyebrow.
"Spiders. In Australia," Harry offered, fighting a grin. "Apparently even the non-magical ones are absolutely horrifying."
Ginny grinned wildly, as if imagining Ron's horrified expression at a continent absolutely rife with spiders and crawling things. Harry felt marginally guilty withholding that information from Ron, but Hermione had confided in him and practically begged him not to tell Ron. Besides, how likely were they to really come upon something dangerous?
Harry glanced up just as the door swung open and a familiar figure stepped inside. "Hang on—is that Neville?"
Ginny turned, her face lighting up. Sure enough, Neville Longbottom was weaving his way through the tables, his round face breaking into a grin as he spotted them. Beside him, Hannah Abbott followed, her blonde hair tucked neatly into a low ponytail.
"Neville!" Ginny called, waving him over.
Neville's grin widened as he approached, Hannah trailing behind with an easy smile. "Harry, Ginny—fancy seeing you here!"
"We could say the same to you," Harry said, standing to greet him with a firm handshake. "What brings you two to London?"
Hannah spoke up, her tone cheerful. "I've been working here at the Leaky since…" Harry and Ginny nodded quickly in understanding, allowing Hannah to push quickly past it.
Neville nodded and added quickly, "And I've been at the Ministry all morning. Thought we'd grab lunch before heading back."
"Well, sit with us," Ginny offered, sliding over to make room. "Unless you have other plans."
Neville hesitated for a moment, glancing at Hannah, who shrugged with a smile. "Why not?" he said, pulling out a chair. "It's been too long."
As they settled in, the hum of the pub seemed to fade slightly. Harry found himself relaxing for the first time that day, the knot in his chest loosening as they began to talk. Harry and Ginny told Neville about fixing up the Burrow, running Quidditch drills, and Ron and Hermione heading to Australia. Neville, meanwhile, recounted his rather eventful month. He had begun working himself hard getting ready for Auror training and had been attending Wizengamot meetings with his grandmother, as she'd demanded he do to learn the specifics of British Wizarding Law if he were going to represent the Longbottom family as an Auror.
"I can't always tell whether she's proud or furious with me," Neville admitted awkwardly. "Even when she's proud she sounds angry." He shook his head. "It was almost easier when she was stoically disappointed."
Harry wanted, momentarily, to offer his sympathies. But he caught the ghost of a smirk fighting its way onto Neville's face. Beside him, Hannah was beaming.
"He secretly loves it," she said fondly.
Neville smiled sheepishly and held her gaze. Harry shot Ginny a curious look but she looked at him with wide eyes and shrugged.
Harry coughed gently. Neville's head whipped around, his cheeks pink. Harry fought a fond grin of his own.
"Just remember that the person she's proud of now is the same person you've always been," Harry said. "People are just finally starting to see it."
"I don't know how you do it, Harry," Neville admitted, looking at Harry in an embarrassing amount of awe. "Last year was the hardest year of my life." Harry nodded his understanding. "But I just kept reminding myself that all this shit we were dealing with, you'd been dealing with since we were eleven."
"Neville, I—"
Neville held up a hand. "Just, let me say it and we can pretend that I didn't, okay?" he asked with a hopeful grimace. Harry nodded with a teasing roll of his eyes.
"Knowing you…that you could do it all these years, that you were still out there fighting—it gave me the courage to keep fighting myself," Neville said. "It helped me believe I could do it."
"You were always capable of it," Harry insisted, remembering first-year Neville threatening to fight them when they went after the Sorcerer's Stone.
Neville nodded sharply. "I know that now," he said. "I'm just—I'm glad you kept fighting." Harry nodded with a smile.
"Harry. You bloody did it!" Hannah said, grinning widely.
Harry felt the heat rise up his neck. "I think we all did," he said with a tight smile.
Hannah rolled her eyes. She met Ginny's with a grin. "What is it with you Gryffindor boys? I thought for sure you'd be trying to one-up each other."
"If you're looking for that we'll have to bring Ron, Seamus, and err—Ron and Seamus," Neville stuttered lamely, glancing worriedly to Ginny.
"You can say Dean's name, it's not taboo," Ginny grinned, chuckling as Hannah swatted Neville's arm playfully.
"Sorry," Neville said with a grimace. "For a second there though it was nice just to think about the normal school drama."
"You're only saying that because you don't have to go back next year," Ginny grumbled playfully.
"I dunno about that," Neville muttered wryly. "Auror training is starting to sound like a Class of '98 reunion."
That got Harry's attention. "Really?" he asked, sitting straighter in his seat.
Neville nodded. "It's me, Seamus, Ernie, Sue Bones, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner—"
"Michael wants to be an Auror?" Ginny goggled. She frowned. "That's…I didn't see that coming. I thought he wanted to practice law, not enforce it."
"I think last year changed a lot," Neville admitted.
"He did step up," Ginny said, nodding reluctantly. "Still kind of a prat though."
"Oh, he's the least of my worries," Neville grumbled, looking around cautiously. "McLaggen is supposedly joining."
Harry sputtered, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. "He's going to kill me," Harry muttered. "He's not even going to mean it. He almost did it in a Quidditch match—on the same team!"
"So it's true," Neville said, his eyes lighting up. "You're joining the Aurors too."
Harry nodded firmly and quickly related how he'd come to the decision. "The only hesitation I had was the chance to spend more time with Ginny at Hogwarts," he admitted sheepishly.
"Aww," Hannah cooed gently. She gave Neville a soft smile. "They're adorable."
"So are you two apparently," Harry pointed out with a grin, gesturing to the two of them.
"When did this start?" Ginny asked.
Harry let out a breath—at least he wasn't the only one out of the loop.
Neville's brow furrowed. "You didn't know?" he asked, before realization dawned. "That's right, you didn't come back after Easter." He settled back in his seat and turned to Hannah. "Once word got back about that…" He shrugged and grinned. "I guess I finally found some of that Gryffindor courage."
"And you've just been…going to lunch with Hannah and sitting in on Wizengamot meetings with your grandmum?" Ginny asked.
Neville shrugged. "The meetings aren't so bad. A bit dry sometimes, I suppose," he said. "But it's keeping me up to date with everything that's going on looking for the leftover Death Eaters."
Harry nodded grimly.
Hannah offered a weak smile. "But we meet up with everyone a few times a week for dinner and drinks—usually at least Friday—either here or in Muggle London," she said. Her eyes lit up. "You two should come!"
Ginny gave him an eager look and he nodded. She turned back to Hannah with a grin. "Yes. Sounds brilliant."
Hannah grinned widely. "I think we're meeting tomorrow?" She gave Neville a tentative look, but he just grimaced and shrugged. Hannah rolled her eyes playfully before turning back to Harry and Ginny. "We'll meet tomorrow. After the Ministry memorial. And then definitely Friday."
"We've got some standing plans on Fridays, but we can meet you after," Harry said. At her questioning look, he explained, "We have dinner with my godson and my…well…his grandmum every friday."
"You have a godson?" Neville asked.
Harry smiled tightly. "Professor Lupin's son."
There was a pained sound from Hannah, and Harry remembered suddenly that she'd lost her mother early on in the war. He had to admire her; despite that tragedy she'd returned during the darkest time imaginable.
Neville frowned and nodded. "You know, what you said—at his funeral," he began awkwardly, but he gathered himself quickly. "It's gotten a lot of people talking. People are starting to really rethink a lot of the old ways."
"Good," Ginny said simply. Harry squeezed her hand in thanks.
Neville turned to Ginny abruptly. "I meant to say—well—I didn't get the chance at—at Fred's," he stammered. He raked his fingers through his neat hair. "Sorry, that—I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry. And I know it's hard right now." He gave Harry a pained look.
Harry nodded tightly.
Neville took a long tired look at Ginny and sighed sadly. He dropped his gaze away to stare at the space between them all. "I've found that it helps when I remind myself to be proud of them, specifically in the moments when it's hardest." He grimaced and seemed to draw into himself, until a gentle touch to the shoulder from Hannah snapped it out of him.
"It makes things hurt a little bit less," he whispered.
Harry watched Ginny from the corner of his eye, waiting to gauge her reaction. They had made pointed efforts to say Fred's name, to not hide; efforts to have remembrances and honor him. They'd taken comfort in the busyness of their lives, of planning next steps and putting their lives back together. But it had only been a few short weeks, in which there had been only a few moments where the Burrow had gotten quiet enough to be ambushed by the stray thought of Fred's absence.
Ginny nodded. "Thank you, Neville," she said. Her eyes had a haunted, faraway look to them.
"Sorry," Neville muttered awkwardly. "I didn't mean to bring the mood down."
"What about you, Hannah?" Harry asked, eager to change the subject. "When did you start working here?"
"Oh, really soon after the battle," Hannah admitted. She looked down and found Neville's hand with hers. "After Mum died it was just me and my brother Ewan. He's got a job with the Ministry at the Muggle Liaison Office. But…" She pulled her hand back and rubbed her arms self-consciously. "It's hard with just the two of us."
Harry nodded, trying to imagine going through the heartbreak after the war without the Weasleys by his side.
Neville put a hand on Hannah's shoulder and smiled proudly. "Hannah's doing brilliantly," he said, turning back to Harry and Ginny. "It's been less than a month and Tom can't run this place without her anymore."
"Tom's been really good about a flexible schedule while I apply and interview at healer programs," Hannah said. She caught the barman's eye and started to stand, but he waved her back down.
"You want to be a healer?" Harry asked
Hannah nodded. "I was always good with Charms—got really good with healing charms this year. My Potions grades weren't spectacular, but honestly—"
"Whose were?" Harry offered.
Hannah grinned. "Thanks to Neville, Herbology really started to click," she said, causing Neville to blush furiously.
"I'm sure you did a lot of Herbology revision together," Harry said with as straight a face as he could manage.
"Yeah, just like I'm sure the two of you were working on your broomstick maneuvers," Hannah teased back.
Ginny chuckled. "Where are you looking to work?" she asked.
"Anywhere. Everywhere," Hannah offered lamely. She sighed in defeat. "It is so competitive. Everyone else seems to know someone. And sometimes that makes all the difference between getting a real shot and getting lost in the shuffle."
Ginny tapped Harry's arm furiously. "Maybe Andi can put in a good word for her!" she said suddenly. "She's a healer in Leeds but used to work at St. Mungos."
"Andi?" Neville asked curiously.
"My godson—Teddy's—grandmum," Harry answered awkwardly. "That's a mouthful," he muttered.
"You should just call her your aunt," Ginny suggested with a fond smile, earning a non-committal noise from him. "She'd love it, Harry."
Harry knew Ginny was right, of course, but it felt like a huge presumption. Despite their familiarity they really hadn't known one another all that long.
"I'll talk to Andi on Friday and see if she's got any ideas or maybe wants to talk with you," Harry offered.
"That would be brilliant," Hannah said, relief clear on her face.
A new crowd of customers began flooding into the Leaky and drew Hannah's attention. She panned the room once more and motioned to Tom, who nodded in defeat and waved her over to the counter.
"I've got to get back to work, but we'll see you tomorrow?" she said, giving Neville a quick peck on the cheek. Harry and Ginny nodded.
"Look at you, Nev," Harry said proudly, grinning as Neville watched Hannah walk away.
"Still not sure how it happened," Neville admitted sheepishly. He stayed a few minutes longer before excusing himself to join Hannah by the bar counter and leaving Harry and Ginny to their lunch. "I'll see you tomorrow at the ceremony. And then we'll get the whole crew together here."
"Minus Ron and Hermione," Harry said with a sigh, realizing that this would be one of the only times he'd be around his former classmates without his two oldest friends.
Neville laughed. "Oh, yeah, you'll have a ton of questions to answer," he said with a grin. "Everyone wants to know what's the deal with them."
"Who's 'everyone'?" Ginny asked.
"Mostly our year from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff," Neville admitted, nodding to Harry. "Dean and Seamus, Justin, Ernie, Sue, the Patils…sometimes some of the group that's going to the Aurors." Neville shrugged. "It's not exactly strict attendance."
"McLaggen?" Harry asked tentatively.
Neville shook his head furtively. "No—And Dean says that if you say his name three times in a row he'll show up," he warned seriously. "Though I'm not entirely sure if Dean's joking or not."
"It's a muggle thing," Ginny said, grinning. "From a…motion film? Movie photo? It's his favorite. Bug Juice…or something." She turned to Harry curiously.
Harry shrugged. "Movie. Or film," he clarified. "But…I never really…" He said off awkwardly and Ginny gave his hand a squeeze under the table.
"We'll be there," Ginny said.
"Brilliant!" Neville exclaimed. He glanced over his shoulder to Hannah at the bar. "I'll let you get back to your date," he said with a cheeky grin.
They watched Neville leave, and then Ginny turned to Harry with a sigh. "Jos will be heartbroken," she said. At Harry's confused look she continued, "She fancied him last year. But if he and Hannah were already together…"
Harry grinned. "I never talked with Hannah much, but they seem…" He trailed off, uncertain how to finish. If someone had told him seven years ago that Neville would be leading the school's rebellion against Voldemort while fending off several interested girls he never would have believed it.
"Really good together," Ginny finished.
Harry nodded, glancing over to Neville and Hannah talking animatedly from either side of the bar. Neville's hands moved as he spoke, his enthusiasm lighting up his face in a way Harry didn't often see outside of the Herbology classroom. Hannah leaned in closer, laughing at something he said. Her cheeks flushed with warmth that had nothing to do with the firewhiskey she was pouring. For the first time in a long while, he let himself believe that maybe they all could find their own happiness too.
Next Time: Chapter 13 - Thirty-One Days
==\=/==
Bon voyage, Ron and Hermione!
Welcome, Neville and Hannah...and maybe some other people, too!
Almost one month after the battle, and everyone is finally in a place where they feel comfortable branching out into the wider world or trying to get back to their lives. The Weasley sibling gathering, specifically Percy's part in it, was something I'd been wanting to unfold for a while now. He fell the furthest and has the furthest to go still, but he's finally gotten a dose of reality and realizes what is important. There are some...interesting things to come for Percy, though probably not until after Ginny gets back to school.