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Grave Days
By Northumbrian

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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama
Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 153
Summary: Front page: THE DAILY PROPHET 4 May 1998

WHERE IS HARRY POTTER?

Despite the Official Ministry Statement (published above) we are no closer to receiving an answer to the question on the lips of every witch and wizard in the country. Where is Harry Potter?

It appears that Mr Potter left Hogwarts School early yesterday morning, apparently in the company of his close associates Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. An attractive young Ministry clerk, who did not wish to be named, told The Prophet “He’s at the Ministry, having an important meeting with the Minister. My friends and I saw him. He asked us out to the pub, but we had to turn him down.” This statement is at odds with a leaked report from the Portkey Office, which claims that Mr. Potter has fled the country, travelling to Australia with his companions. When asked about rumours that Mr Potter had been seriously injured and was being treated at a secret location, Acting Minister Shacklebolt said simply, "Nonsense."



Hitcount: Story Total: 115051; Chapter Total: 24169





Author's Notes:
Thanks, once again to the fast, efficient and insightful Andrea for beta'ing this for me. Thanks, too, to Amelíe for her additional beta input, which has certainly improved this tale.




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5: A Pall over The Burrow

Harry tensed under the Weasleys’ silent gaze. Ginny simply looked disdainfully at her family and then ignored them. She shuffled on his lap, ran her fingers through his hair, kissed his scar and asked him why he’d suggested goblins as Azkaban guards. This proved to be a good topic for conversation and a kept them talking for quite some time.

Harry then found himself talking about his visits to the other bereaved families; one careful question from Ginny was enough. He unburdened himself of the worries that had been building up over the past few days; told them of the sorrowing families he’d seen and the grief he had put himself through. Eventually, he found himself entertaining the Weasleys with a description of his first encounter with his godson.

‘Did you or Bill ever give Ginny a bottle?’ Percy asked Charlie when Harry finished.

Ginny obviously hadn’t forgiven her bespectacled brother for his comments regarding the goblins. She stood; cupped her breasts in her hands and turned to face Percy.

‘No, they didn’t,’ she told him. These aren’t just something for boys to stare at, Perce, Mum fed us all.’

‘Ginny!’ Molly Weasley gently scolded her daughter, though she was having difficulty hiding her laughter. Percy blushed scarlet and Charlie and George laughed in relief.

‘Well,’ Ginny told her mother. ‘Boys!’ She shook her head scornfully and sat back down on Harry’s lap. Her family lapsed back into an uneasy silence.

‘I thought you were going to Australia,’ Mrs Weasley observed after some time. Molly had to repeat the question. Harry had been busy admiring the freckles on Ginny’s legs and wondering whether he dare move his free hand from the arm of his chair onto her knee.

‘Ron misunderstood,’ Harry began, he was feeling embarrassed. Molly was looking at him curiously, she was obviously wondering why he hadn’t been paying attention and he worried that she’d known what he was thinking. He tried to look Mrs Weasley in the eyes as he spoke, ‘I asked Kingsley to set up the Portkeys, that’s all. I wanted to stay at the Ministry, to help Kingsley. But we didn’t think that Hermione should go alone, so Ron went with her.’

Harry suspected that Molly did not entirely believe him, but she did not press the point.

‘Have you heard from them?’ Molly asked.

‘No,’ Harry shook his head, ‘The Australians were going to help to track down Hermione’s parents, getting help from their Muggle government, too. It must be taking longer than they thought. Hermione expected to be back before now.’

Molly looked worriedly at her husband, then at her clock. The hand marked “Ronald” was in the position usually occupied by the “Charles” hand … “Abroad”.

‘If they were in trouble I expect that Kingsley would have heard by now,’ Harry reassured her. ‘The Australian Authority arranged for someone to meet them.

‘I suppose so,’ Molly sighed, ‘but the first funeral is tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Colin’s,’ Harry confirmed.

‘How are you getting to Colin Creevey’s funeral?’ asked Arthur Weasley.

Harry had discussed the details with Justin Finch-Fletchley only hours earlier; he seized the opportunity to change the subject.

‘We’re meeting at Colin’s parent’s house, and travelling from there. Justin is organising it. We’ll be Apparating directly into the Creeveys’ living room in small groups. Justin has given us all times to arrive. I know where I’m going, so I’ll take Ginny and George with me.’ Harry stopped and looked at Mrs Weasley; he’d just remembered something.

‘Mrs Weasley, Luna will be coming over here soon, unless I go to visit the Lovegoods. Justin said that she wants to talk to me about something.’

‘Don’t go,’ Ginny whispered softly in his ear.

‘Luna will be welcome, dear,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘You just stay here and relax.’ She looked at him rather sharply, and added, ‘Visitors are always welcome here; you should know that by now, Harry.’

Harry hardly had time to realise that she was gently scolding him for not visiting sooner, because George spoke immediately.

‘Even Loony ones,’ George said.

Molly Weasley glared at her son. ‘She’s a good girl,’ she scolded.

‘I wonder what she wants?’ George mused. ‘After all, she’ll see us tomorrow, at the... at the... at the...’ George halted, unable to say the word funeral.

Harry noticed the sadness in Ginny’s eyes as George spoke. She was determinedly fighting back her tears. Harry squeezed her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She turned and buried her head in his shoulder. ‘I should have gone to see the Creeveys. I used to sit next to Colin,’ she said. She spoke quietly, so that only he could hear. Harry hugged her and silently waited for her to regain her composure.

‘Thanks,’ she whispered, before raising her voice to its normal level, ‘Go on, finish telling us about the arrangements for Colin.’

‘All of Colin’s relatives will be there, so this is a proper Muggle funeral,’ Harry continued. ‘You know that we’ve all been asked to wear Muggle clothes, we’ll be travelling to the church in cars.’ Arthur Weasley started forward excitedly. ‘Proper Muggle cars?’ he asked.

‘Yes, Dad’ sighed Ginny.

‘The Creeveys have agreed that the DA, and any of Colin’s classmates who want to go, can attend, but no-one else,’ Harry continued quickly, diverting Arthur Weasley from a conversation about cars. ‘Professor McGonagall will be there too, and Kingsley, of course. But everyone we don’t know will be Muggle relatives.’

‘The story,’ Harry advised Ginny and George, ‘is that Colin “died bravely while rescuing fellow pupils from a fire”, Colin’s parents have agreed.’

‘It’s the only way we can let the Muggle relatives know how brave he was,’ Harry continued sadly. ‘We’ll be leaving for the Creeveys’ house at two o’clock. It’s somewhere in the north, a place called Wolsingham. There is a hall booked for afterwards, with food and drink. It will probably be after seven o’clock when we get back, if we go to the hall.’

‘We’ll be some of the first to arrive. The funeral is at three. I’ve…’ Harry hesitated, ‘I’ve been asked to be a pall-bearer.’

Mrs Weasley took a deep breath, and interrupted Harry.

‘Harry,’ she began. ‘For Fred’s funeral on Sunday …’ the room went silent. Harry had been relaxing, his concerns about his not going to Australia, about Ginny sitting on his knee, had been forgotten. Suddenly, the tension in the air was palpable, it seemed to Harry that no-one in the room was even breathing.

Ginny stiffened on his lap; her right hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

‘Bill, Charlie, Percy, George and Ron will be pall-bearers, we’ll need a sixth. I wondered…’ Mrs Weasley paused.

Harry could feel how tense Ginny was; her thigh muscles felt like steel rods on his legs. Her left fist, he saw, was clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. She was determinedly looking away from both him and her mother, out of a window.

‘I’d be honoured to,’ Harry said, ‘if Ginny doesn’t want to, of course.’

Ginny relaxed immediately. Curious, Harry turned to George, who was staring in disbelief at his mother.

‘I’d have thought Lee might have been a better choice than me though,’ he suggested.

Lee Jordan had been the twins’ best friend at school; Harry wondered why he hadn’t been asked. Mrs Weasley was instantly on her feet; she stared angrily at Harry.

‘It can’t be Ginny,’ she said sharply, ‘it has to be wizards. It’s traditional!’

Harry swallowed hard; he hated disagreeing with Mrs Weasley, especially in these circumstances, but Ginny gave his shoulder an almost imperceptible squeeze and, emboldened, he said, ‘I don’t think that conforming to tradition was something Fred was very good at.’

‘See!’ shouted Ginny, jumping to her feet and facing her mother angrily. ‘I want to do it, I should do it!’

‘Ginny,’ began Mrs Weasley.

‘No, Molly,’ interrupted Mr Weasley. ‘I’m sorry, but we had this argument yesterday, too. I think they’re right. Had it been left up to Fred to organise, I expect we’d all be wearing those ridiculous Headless Hats or something.’

‘Great idea, Dad,’ George whooped.

‘No!’ Molly shouted, she was, Harry realised, close to tears. ‘No jokes!’ she glared at Harry. ‘She put you up to this, didn’t she?’ Mrs Weasley accused, ‘You arranged it when you first arrived.’

‘Actually, Mother,’ snapped Ginny, ‘I thought you’d noticed; we didn’t actually do very much talking.’

This was too much for Mrs Weasley; she burst into tears and scuttled out from the kitchen into the sitting room, slamming the door behind her.

There were a few moments of stunned silence; Harry could hear Mrs Weasley sobbing in the adjoining room. Mr Weasley looked sternly at both Harry and Ginny.

‘Ginny, you will come with me and you will apologise to your mother,’ he ordered.

‘Apologise! For what?’ Ginny shouted, tears streaming down her face. Harry felt awkward and alone as unsuspected tensions broke around him.

‘For making her cry,’ Arthur Weasley held his hands out to his daughter. ‘Now!’ he said with a firmness Harry had never heard before. ‘Please, Ginny,’ he added gently.

Harry silently handed Ginny his handkerchief. She blew her nose loudly, wiped her tears, and meekly took one of her father’s outstretched hands.

As the door into the sitting room closed behind them, George let out a huge sigh.

‘Blimey! Sorry about that, Harry.’

‘There’s nothing to apologise for, George. I’ve caused an argument; I’m the one who should be apologising.’

George shook his head. ‘No, not you, mate. This started yesterday,’ he began, ‘when we were finalising…’ He stopped, sobbing, unable to continue. Charlie took up the story.

‘…Finalising the arrangements. There should be four, or six, wizards to carry the coffin.’

George had his head in his hands and was crying softly. Harry and Percy both walked over to him; each put a hand on his shoulder.

‘Mum assumed,’ Charlie continued, ‘that all five brothers would want to do it, so she asked George who should be the sixth. He suggested Lee, but Ginny went ballistic. She’s been acting oddly all week.’ Charlie Weasley glowered at Harry. ‘Ginny’s a tough little thing, but she’s been on edge for days. We thought that it was because of Fred, and the aftermath of the battle. Now, I think there was more to it than that,’ he accused, looking sharply at Harry.

Charlie was the Weasley brother that Harry knew least well and he wasn’t sure how he should take this remark.

‘Now you’ve arrived, she’s got some of her old bounce back,’ said Charlie. ‘So I hope, for your sake, that you’re not messing her about, I don’t care how famous you are. If you’re messing with my sister…’ Charlie glowered threateningly.

Before Harry could protest, Charlie continued.

‘George, Bill and I, backed Ginny.’ Charlie glared at Percy before continuing. ‘But Mum asked Lee anyway. He said yes straight away, but Ginny and George collared him. When Lee realised Ginny wanted to be pall-bearer he changed his mind, said Ginny should do it.’

‘We thought Mum had given up,’ Charlie concluded, ‘but she’s all for the traditional ways. I reckon that she was pinning her hopes on you saying yes; and on Ginny not arguing again.’

George raised his head; wiped tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffed, and looked at Harry.

‘You’re right, Harry, Fred wasn’t much of a one for the formalities, he would’ve loved the idea of Ginny doing it, mainly because it will really annoy Aunty Muriel.’

George blinked away his tears and watched Harry closely.

‘Did Ginny warn you?’ he asked. ‘Or was she telling the truth about what you were doing up at the orchard?’

‘She didn’t warn me,’ Harry began, he felt himself blushing. ‘We, er, we …’

George burst out laughing. Percy looked away in embarrassment. Charlie remained stony-faced; though Harry thought that he saw a twinkle in his eye.

‘Crikey, Harry, you like to live dangerously, don’t you?’ George sniggered. ‘It’s a good thing Bill wasn’t here.’

‘I hadn’t really seen her since Bill and Fleur’s wedding,’ said Harry, trying to explain.

‘So, you were making up for lost time, were you? George teased, his sorrow momentarily forgotten as he revelled in Harry’s embarrassment.

‘If you were trying to make up nine months snogging in ten minutes, you did a pretty good job, though,’ George continued, sounding impressed. Harry felt his face begin to burn. ‘You didn’t even come up for air. You two must have been getting a lot of practice.’

‘Yeah, exactly how long have you been snogging our sister, Potter?’ Charlie added sharply, ‘And how many other girlfriends do you have? And does ‘ickle Ronnie know what’s going on?’

Harry was now certain that it would be possible to fry an egg on his face.

‘Don’t worry about Harry, Charlie,’ George smirked, punching Harry on the arm. ‘He’s not the girl magnet that the Prophet makes him out to be, he’s just a scrawny, speccy, kid. He’s marginally better at talking to girls than Ron, but not a heartbreaker like Perce.’

At this, Charlie finally burst out laughing, and Percy looked as embarrassed as Harry. Mortified though he was, Harry was so pleased to see George attempting humour that he tried to laugh good-naturedly.

‘Dad’s headless hats idea is good, though,’ grinned George when he and Charlie had finished laughing at Harry’s discomfort.

‘I really think that we should have a bit of decorum, we’re discussing our brother’s funeral.’ Percy looked horrified.

‘Perce,’ Charlie said. ‘Please try to remember we’re talking about Fred. George and Harry — and Ginny — are right. Decorum and tradition and Fred! Don’t fit; little brother!’

Harry stepped away from the three brothers and stood quietly, watching them as they continued their good-natured argument. He was extremely pleased that the conversation had, for the moment, moved away from his relationship with their sister. He was beginning to relax when the sitting room door opened and Mr Weasley poked his head out.

‘Harry, could you come in here for a minute?’ asked Ginny’s father.

’Of course, Mr Weasley,’

Apprehensively, Harry walked past Ginny’s still stern father into the sitting room. He could feel the stress when he entered the small, cosy room. Ginny was in a corner almost behind the old sofa, Molly was by the armchair next to the fireplace. The only way the two Weasley women could get further apart would be if one of them left the room. They were poised like cautious cats, claws currently sheathed but both preparing to pounce; each was a second from spitting and hissing. Arthur Weasley closed the door and bravely moved to stand between his wife and his daughter.

Harry tried to understand Molly’s feelings. He tried to imagine the horror of losing a child. He remembered his own anger at Sirius’s death. How unreasonable he’d been with Dumbledore. He remembered his fears for Ginny’s safety. Everyone’s emotions were as fragile as eggshells. He’d clumsily blundered in and broken several eggs.

‘Harry,’ Mr Weasley asked, ‘did Ginny say anything to you about being a pall-bearer?’

Ginny’s father was looking unusually uncompromising, and very much in command. Harry rarely saw Mr Weasley take charge. Harry met his gaze, but it was Mrs Weasley, he realised, who needed the answer. He moved closer to Molly and looked her straight in the eyes, wishing that they weren’t so very like Ginny’s.

‘No, she didn’t. I said what I did because I think that it’s right. Six…’ Harry sought the word, ‘…siblings; six pall-bearers.’

‘I’m really sorry that you’re arguing about this, that we’re arguing about this.’ The tension in the room was affecting him, he shook with emotion. Other than the Weasleys, he realised, he had no one, other than Hermione. He was slowly destroying the only family he had. He paused and took a deep breath.

‘I’m very sorry that I’ve upset you, Mrs Weasley,’ said Harry apologetically. ‘I seem to be upsetting everyone. I didn’t want to start an argument. I didn’t want you to find out about Ginny and me the way you did either,’ he continued remorsefully. ‘Perhaps it would be best for everyone if I left. I’ll go back to Grimmauld Place.’

‘No!’ said Ginny and Mrs Weasley simultaneously. They looked at each other, startled. For a moment, Harry thought that their claws would be unsheathed, that a battle would finally begin.

‘At least you can agree on something.’ Mr Weasley observed wryly, looking from wife to daughter. Molly and Ginny both smiled sadly at Arthur, then at Harry; the tension began to flow away.

‘Tradition isn’t everything, Mrs Weasley,’ Harry pleaded Ginny’s case, ‘it was just Hagrid at Professor Dumbledore’s funeral, and you have to admit that Fred wasn’t one for following rules.’

‘I wasn’t allowed to be pall-bearer at my brothers’ funerals,’ said Molly tearfully, her head down. Her husband, suddenly understanding, stepped forwards and swept his wife into his arms.

‘Go,’ he silently mouthed to Ginny and Harry.

Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and led him from the sitting room. Keeping a tight hold, she continued straight through the kitchen and opened the door into the yard. Charlie, Percy and George stood as if to follow them.

‘Wait here!’ commanded Ginny. She spoke in a tone very like her mother’s, and her brothers obediently sat back down. She ushered Harry past her, made certain that her brothers were still sitting dutifully at the table, and then followed her boyfriend into the yard leaving three men closed in the kitchen.

Ginny wiped moisture from her eyes, blew her nose and, with an apologetic look, handed Harry his now very wet handkerchief.

‘Follow me,’ she said, leading him along the side of the house. She stepped around the corner and stopped, leaning against the wall. Harry looked around; the house wall was windowless, they were hidden from everyone inside.

He turned to face Ginny. Green eyes gazed into brown, and brown into green, as they silently considered what had just happened. He put his hands on the rough stone wall of the Burrow, one either side of her head.

‘Poor Mum,’ observed Ginny.

Harry nodded sadly, uncertain what to say.

‘Thank you,’ she continued, smiling weakly.

‘For disagreeing with your Mum? I hope I never have to do that again,’ he told her fervently.

‘For saying what you said, Harry; for being on my side.’ She smiled gratefully into his eyes.

‘I’ll come running whenever you call. You know that, don’t you?’ promised Harry seriously.

Ginny leaned forward, slid her arms gently round his neck and stood on tiptoe. She replied with a quick kiss, gentle and soft on his lips, and slid back against the wall keeping her arms on his shoulders.

When Harry tried to move closer, she held him at arm’s length. ‘We need to talk,’ she ordered.

‘Later,’ he pleaded.

‘No! Now! We don’t have long, Harry. Five minutes at the most,’ she told him. ‘You didn’t tell me what you were going to do last year,’ she continued. ‘I think that I understand why, but never, ever, keep secrets from me again, or else.’

‘Or else, what?’ Harry teased; then he saw the look on her face. Instantly, he knew what the threat was. Would she really ditch him if he kept secrets from her? He wasn’t going to take the chance.

‘I won’t; I’m sorry. From now on, no secrets,’ he promised.

No secrets,’ Ginny agreed. They gazed into each others eyes in sudden, total, understanding of the huge thing they had just promised each other.

‘I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to be safe,’ Harry tried to explain.

‘Well, that worked really well then!’ said Ginny scornfully. ‘Everyone at Hogwarts knew about us anyway; it wasn’t easy last year.’

Harry’s face crumpled in sorrow. Neville, Luna, and Ginny had been the ringleaders at school last year. Neville had already told him of some of the things that had happened.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, realising how inadequate those words were.

‘Harry,’ she smiled sadly at him, ‘you did your best; you saved us all. I had a hard time last year, but I’m sure that yours was worse. So, why didn’t you come here on Sunday?’ she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

‘Everyone thought that I was with Ron and Hermione, and,’ he admitted, ‘I was afraid.’

‘Afraid! What were you afraid of?’

‘That you might have found someone else!’

‘That was what I was afraid of too;’ Ginny scolded gently, ‘that you might have found someone else. But until you came here, you couldn’t ask me, and I couldn’t ask you. So you just sat, alone, in Grimmauld Place, and fretted and worried, and you let me do the same.’

‘I’m a bit stupid sometimes. I make trouble for myself,’ admitted Harry.

‘True!’ Ginny ruffled his hair, ‘So you agree; you should have come here on Sunday.’

‘Yes,’ Harry admitted, realising that the Weasleys would have supported him, as they supported each other, as they had always supported him.

‘Aha!’ Ginny was triumphant. ‘I’m right and you’re wrong, so listen to me in the future.’

He looked down into her smiling freckled face, his eyes flicking from fine red brows and eyelashes to nose cheeks, chin and full red lips. For a moment, he forgot his grief.

‘You are beautiful,’ he observed.

‘Don’t change the subject.’ Ginny spoke sternly, though he was certain that she was pleased.

Harry continued to gaze at her. He drank in the sight of her; tried to imprint her appearance in his memory. She was extraordinary, magnificent; her eyes were still rimmed with red, but full of passion, full of life. He knew then that he would have to tell her about the Horcrux hunt, and the Deathly Hallows, and that she would tell him everything, too.

‘I need to tell you what happened this year,’ Harry decided.

Even as he spoke, he realised that there were others who he must tell. Most people knew the half-truths and rumours already. But his friends, his family, they needed to know. Everyone who had helped him to escape from Privet Drive; it was important that they knew.

His family, Harry caught himself–he’d been thinking of the Weasleys, and not for the first time–how long had they been his family, he wondered? He had been standing gazing into Ginny’s eyes, thinking, for a minute or more. Ginny stood silently, patiently, watching and waiting.

‘I have a family,’ he realised, as the importance of his decision struck him.

Ginny looked puzzled for a moment, then she realised what he was saying.

‘You have a family and friends, Harry,’ she examined his face carefully, understanding the importance of his words. She cupped his cheeks in her hands.

‘Sometimes you forget, don’t you?’ she kissed his chin. ‘But you had neither when you were little, did you?’ she observed sadly, ‘Well, you need never be lonely again. We won’t shout at you, or be horrible to you, or lock you in a cupboard. Are you going to tell us everything?’

Harry made his decision.

‘Yes, and no, and yes,’ he replied, answering her questions in order.

While Ginny was working out his reply, Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her back around the corner towards the back door.

‘You are amazing,’ he continued, ‘and I want to be with you forever.’ Ginny gasped and stopped suddenly, astonished at his words.

‘Come on,’ he ordered, as she struggled to keep him outside, with her. He didn’t comprehend the significance of his words, not then; so Ginny relented and allowed herself to be escorted back to the door. Hand in hand they approached the Burrow. They climbed the steps, opened the door into the kitchen, and stepped inside.

Arthur and Molly Weasley, also hand in hand had just opened the sitting room door at the other side of the kitchen. The two couples looked at each other and smiled hesitantly. Ginny’s three brothers looked from one door to another.

‘We’ve come to a decision,’ Mr Weasley said.

‘Ginny can be pall-bearer, if that’s what she really wants,’ said Molly; blinking back tears.

Ginny ran across the length of the kitchen to her mother and hugged her, ‘Thanks, Mum.’

‘We’ve come to a decision, too,’ Harry said. ‘I know that now probably isn’t the time; but I must tell you what happened, what really happened, last year. Not what’s in the papers, but what we did, and why. You’re the closest I have to a family, and I owe you the truth.’

Mrs Weasley bustled towards him, arms outstretched. Harry did not really need her hug; he knew then, as he’d known for years, that he was welcome, he was already a part of this remarkable family. He knew, too, that Molly needed to hug him, to physically show him that she cared and that their recent disagreement was forgotten.

When Molly Weasley released him, Harry looked across to Ginny’s father. To his surprise, Arthur was still looking very serious, his arms folded.

‘Well, Harry, you’ve charmed the two women of the house, my wife and my little girl.’

‘I’m not a little girl anymore,’ Ginny interjected.

‘Apparently not,’ said Mr Weasley, considering his daughter carefully. ‘But you’re not seventeen yet, either, Ginny.’ He then returned his gaze to Harry. ‘You’ve been going out with my daughter for a year, and neither of you ever thought to tell me, or my wife.’

Harry looked at Ginny for help; she glanced from Harry to her mother, who was standing next to him. Molly would see any hint from Ginny. He was, he realised, on his own.

‘Er, we didn’t keep it a secret at school,’ Harry said to Mrs Weasley, it seemed easier and safer to direct his answer to Molly, rather than to her husband, who remained much less easy-going than usual. ‘But we didn’t make any public announcements, either.’

‘That’s not what Katie Bell told me,’ George interrupted. ‘She said that you snogged Ginny in front of the entire Gryffindor Common Room; that sounds like a pretty public announcement to me.’

Harry felt himself blushing again. Ginny was shooting daggers at her brother.

‘You knew?’ Harry asked George.

‘Souls of discretion me’n Fred,’ he grinned. For the first time since Harry had arrived, George didn’t frown after mentioning his brother’s name.

‘Waiting for an opportunity to embarrass us, more likely,’ Ginny said.

‘We haven’t been able to embarrass you since your second year, sis,’ George replied. ‘We tried often enough, remember?’

‘Harry’s a different matter, though,’ he grinned wickedly. ‘Come on, Harry, keep talking.’

‘There’s not much more to say. Today’s the first time we’ve really seen each other since Bill’s wedding, so I suppose it was really three months together and nine months apart, but we’re still together.’ Harry wondered if he was making sense.

‘It’s serious, I’m serious — we’re serious,’ he added.

‘We are,’ Ginny confirmed.

Harry looked at her gratefully. George and Charlie were grinning at his discomfort. Percy definitely wanted to be elsewhere. Harry stared at Arthur Weasley, who still looked solemn.

‘Ginny’s my girlfriend, I hope you understand why we didn’t tell you.’

‘Is there anything else we ought to know? Anything else you’ve been keeping from us?’ Arthur Weasley asked sharply.

‘About Ginny and me?’ Harry was puzzled, did Mr Weasley think that they’d …

‘No!’ he said forcefully.

‘Hermione,’ Ginny mouthed.

‘Ginny, let Harry answer for himself,’ Molly scolded.

‘Ginny told me today,’ Harry addressed Ginny’s father, ‘that … people … have been talking about Hermione and me, like they did during the Triwizard Tournament. She’s a girl, and she’s my friend, but that doesn’t make her my girlfriend. She never has been, she’s just–Hermione,’ he finished pathetically.

‘Just as well,’ declared George, ‘you’d have to deal with little Ronnie if you tried anything with Hermione, wouldn’t you?’

‘What?’ Harry was surprised. George seemed know everything.

‘We’re not stupid, Fred ‘n me’ve known for years …’ George laughed, ‘she’s been driving Ron crazy since the Triwizard Tournament, probably before then. But he’s so stupid he didn’t know what to do about it. Things got so bad we even felt sorry for the little twerp. Did that book we bought him help? I hope that they’re really enjoying their trip to Australia together.’

The awkward silence that followed George’s announcement was broken by a click.

Mrs Weasley glanced at her clock. The hand marked Ronald had clicked over from “abroad” to “travelling” then on to “home”. The click was followed by a popping noise from the yard. There was a sudden rush for the back door. Ginny, who’d seen her mother’s glance, was the first to move. She took off at a sprint, grabbed Harry’s hand as she passed him and pulled open the back door. They were the first into the yard. George would have been next, had he not realised that pushing his mother out of his way would not be a good idea.
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