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SIYE Time:2:07 on 19th March 2024
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Restless Heart Syndrome
By notadryeeye

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts
Characters:All
Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language, Sexual Situations
Rating: R
Reviews: 429
Summary: 17 Years have passed since the fall of Voldemort. Just as the world thinks it has finally started to heal and move on, some things thought long lost begin to awaken.
Hitcount: Story Total: 102976; Chapter Total: 5469





Author's Notes:
Special thanks goes out to Tenorspaz for looking this chapter over for me after I had a fit just getting it finished. Sorry for taking so long with this last update. Alas, real life tends to get in the way of the more important matters :)




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Chapter 3: Song of The Century

Sing us a song of the century
That's louder than bombs and eternity.
The era of static and contraband
That's leading us into the promised land
Tell us a story that's by candlelight
Waging a war and losing the fight
They're playing the song of the century
of panic and promise and prosperity
Tell me a story into that goodnight

Sing us a song for me...

She really couldn't believe this day had really come so quickly. Hadn't it seemed like only yesterday (however cliché it seemed to say it) that a little, blue wriggling bundle had been thrust into her arms and had forever changed her life? And now, here they were, 17 years later and she was watching as he took that one last leap from childhood and officially became--a man.

Her baby--who for all intents and purposes had ceased to be that long ago--was 17 today. Today the wizarding world at large considered him a legal adult--fully capable of exercising the responsibility of his magic in everyday life and of making his own decisions from now on.

She'd thought she was ready for this day to come, but as Ginny watched Jackson's birthday celebration go on around her, she seemed to be having a hard time keeping it completely together. There had been a couple of times already today where she'd felt tears well up in her eyes that needed to be swiftly and deftly wiped away before they fell and were noticed.

Today was supposed to be a happy day and for the most part it had been. Family and friends had gathered at the Burrow to share in not only the celebration of Jackson's birthday, but also the abundance of food, drink and sunny summer fun that the day had afforded. Like most Weasley gatherings, there was no shortage of warmth or laughter and Jackson was certainly having a blast. He'd been showered with an array of gifts and cards from family and friends and was now enjoying an afternoon of swimming in the pond and indulging in all of his favorite foods that Grandmum Weasley had prepared for the day.

But for Ginny, at least, there was a lingering sense of melancholy and a certain amount of sadness about this day. True, it was sad to think her little boy was all grown up, but it was more the fact that another year--another milestone--had passed without Harry being there for Jackson. This perhaps was one of the hardest days in a long vicious cycle because his father was not there to help son make the transition from boyhood to adulthood. It was supposed to be a special time--forged by a strong between the two. But instead, that connection had never had a chance to have been made and despite the efforts of others to try and fill the void that Harry's death had left long after he'd gone--Jackson was still making this jump mostly on his own. He'd handled it well thus far and she knew he was enjoying his day.

But this morning as she, Jackson, and Alex had eaten a large birthday breakfast of Jackson's morning favorites at home, the day had gotten off to a more somber mood.

Ginny had decided that she was going to give him one particular gift there at home before they left for the Burrow and he opened the ones from everyone else. It wasn't that she didn't want anyone else to see what she was going to give him--she just wasn't sure how Jackson would react when he opened it.

"Are there any more pancakes?" Jackson asked, even as he shoved the last bite of the one he was just finishing into his mouth.

Ginny glared slightly over her shoulder before chastising him.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," Ginny said as she turned away from the stove brandishing another plateful of pancakes.

"Sorry," Jackson mumbled as he reached foreword with his fork and stabbed a few flapjacks off of the top and pulled them towards the plate that Ginny had just set on the table. Alex followed suit and before she knew it, the new stack of pancakes had been claimed by her two ravenous sons.

Sighing, Ginny sat down at her spot to finally finish her half-eaten breakfast. Munching on her toast, Ginny's eyes drifted back across the table to her sons as they finished up their breakfast.

There was Alex--with his shaggy reddish brown hair that these days, seemed to be in dire need of a trim that would allow her to see the brilliant blue eyes he'd inherited from his father. A liberal amount of freckles--her main contribution to her 2nd son--littered the bridge of his nose and cheeks and branded him most obviously as a Weasley. Like his brother, Alex was tall for his age--but at 11 and much like Paul--Alex was more solid and thickly built.

And then there was Jackson--his jet black hair still completely askew and a mess from sleep. Tall and lanky, his long and thin facial features were a stark contrast from his little brother's. Jackson's piercing green eyes stared out over squared, high cheekbones that only added to his striking appearance.

Both of her sons looked and took so much after their fathers. Alex for the most part was even-keeled; a very quiet and sweet kid who rarely got into any sort of trouble. She was certain he'd gotten his calm demeanor from Paul, who himself was one of the kindest, level-headed people she'd ever met. Jackson was, as with his looks, was at times an emotional doppelganger of Harry. He was loyal and kind and could get along with most anyone--but there were flashes where that inherited temper and quick biting wit earned him swift reprimands and glares and the occasional grounding for his behavior.

But both her boys were great sons and were turning into good-hearted people, which she couldn't be more proud of.

And today was one of those days where her pride was at its highest--Jackson was turning 17 and coming of age.

They had an afternoon party planned at the Burrow with the whole Weasley family and the extensive network of friends they'd seemed to have acquired over the years. It was sure to be a festive event, full of excitement and the organized chaos that always seemed to ensue during these parties.

So that was why she wanted to give Jackson his first birthday present before they went off to her parents and the excitement of the day carried them all off. It wasn't that she didn't want anyone else to see. But this was a special gift, one she wanted him to open without any distractions or outside influences to hamper his appreciation of it.

This would probably be the most perfect time all day.

"Are you finished?" Ginny asked across the table as Alex let out a long yawn and pushed his empty plate away from himself.

Alex nodded, still yawning.

"Well why don't you go shower up and get dressed and ready and then your brother can go after you before we have to leave," Ginny suggested, hoping to spare at least a few minutes.

"Alright," Alex agreed easily enough, slowly pushing himself away from the table.

"Hey--try not to use all the hot water, will you?" Jackson teased as his little brother walked past him. "I'd like a warm shower on my birthday," he added with a smirk.

"Quit your belly-aching," Alex shot back. "It was one time. And beside--you can charm it warm if you need to now," he added before walking out of the kitchen.

Jackson turned a half-amused, half-annoyed face towards his brother's retreating form before turning back to the table to find his mum watching the scene with a smile on her face.

"You know one of these days he's going to snap back with more than that," Ginny told Jackson knowingly. "Especially when he's older--and you're not so much bigger than him anymore," she added with a warning raise of her brown.

Jackson snickered.

"Until then I'll take my chances and continue my prescribed duties as big brother--teasing included," Jackson replied assuredly.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Ginny added as she pushed herself away and began clearing away some of the dishes from the table.

"Are you going to have anymore breakfast?" Ginny asked as she deposited hers and Alex's dishes into the sink and turned towards the stove.

"Nah...I'm full," Jackson replied as he yawned loudly and stretched his arms out to either side, working out this morning's kinks. Ginny turned her attention to the dishes on the stove, which zoomed to join the ones already in the sink as she waved her wand. Once they were all cleared, she set them washing and drying themselves.

"And breakfast was really good, Mum," Jackson said, suddenly appearing beside her with his dirty dishes to add to the pile. "Thank you," he added as he placed a swift kiss on her cheek.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Ginny said, returning his gesture by turning to wrap her arms around him and pull him into a hug. "Happy Birthday."

Jackson returned his mother's hug and allowed her to keep the embrace for a few seconds before he straightened up and Ginny released him from her arms.

"I'm going to go wait for Alex to get done--I should be ready in about a half hour," Jackson said as he moved towards the doorway that led from the kitchen.

"Jackson," Ginny called out before he could leave. He stopped at the sound of his name and turned in question towards her. "Before you get ready and we leave, there's something I want to give you."

"Ok..." he replied with a slow nod.

Taking a deep breath and giving her wand a wave towards the open doorway, Ginny wordlessly summoned the square package that had been resting atop her dresser. Wrapped in a silvery paper, the small parcel flew into her left hand where she caught it deftly. Her fingers traced the shimmery wrapping for a second or two before she held it out to Jackson, who took it carefully.

Sliding back into a nearby chair, Jackson began to gently pry away at the paper at the corners. After a few moments he had the package free from its wrappings and had revealed the small white and unmarked box underneath. He passed the box between his hands for just a moment before he reached for the corner and lifted the top from the box.

Ginny watched Jackson's face carefully, hoping to capture all the emotions that were certain to cross it. His green eyes were fixed intently on the contents of the box and very gingerly he reached in and withdrew the gold watch from within. Holding it by the edges, Jackson turned it around in his hands, examining both sides of the watch.

"Mum, it's--" Jackson said quietly, still taking in this gift. "Thank you," he finished.

"You know it's a family tradition to give a wizard a watch when he turns 17," Ginny began to explain, still watching her son. Jackson nodded in understanding.

"This one was originally your Grandmum's brother--Fabian's watch," she continued on.

"Cool," Jackson said quietly, running a finger very lightly across the slight dented area on the back of the watch. She could tell that he truly appreciated traditional family value in this watch, but she wasn't finished.

Ginny swallowed nervously before she spoke again.

"Your Grandmother also gave this watch--to your Dad--when he turned seventeen," Ginny said in a low voice, coming to stand beside Jackson. Jackson went very still, only moving to look up at her with both question and wonder in his gaze before he looked away again. "So it was his--for a while," she reiterated with a nod.

Jackson didn't respond, but continued to stare at the moving stars on the watch face staring back up at him from his palm.

Ginny'd known for weeks that she'd wanted to give this to him. Ron had found the watch in his own attic among a box of Harry's things when he'd been looking for something else. Jackson had a few things of Harry's--but most of the scattered and few belongings that were left were packed away so that when Jackson was older he could go through them himself if he wanted. But when Ron had brought to her attention that he'd discovered the watch, it had seemed a natural thing to give it to Jackson.

But now she was wondering if it had been such a good idea.

"Thanks Mum," Jackson whispered in a quiet and somewhat strained voice. This time he didn't look up at her, but stood up and vacated the chair he'd been sitting in.

Ginny watched as he turned away from her, swiping up the empty box and replacing the watch inside.

"I'm just...going to put this away," Jackson said quickly, still avoiding her gaze. "Then get ready..." he added quietly as he turned to leave.

"Jacks," Ginny responded instinctively towards her son's retreating form. Jackson stopped but did not turn back at the sound of his name.

She wanted to apologize for upsetting him and get him to talk about what he was feeling, but she didn't know what to say--what wouldn't upset him further.

So instead, she settled on something neutral and totally off subject.

"We'll be leaving at about 11 to help your Grandmum set up for the party," she said quietly, watching Jackson nod in response once before he left the room.


And they'd left at eleven o'clock with nothing more said about the watch. They'd arrived at the Burrow and begun to help Molly set up tables and chairs and put the finishing touches on that afternoon's lunch. And as people had begun to arrive and the party had begun in earnest, Jackson was back to his usual self--laughing and playfully conversing with his aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.

It was as if any sort of feeling that had touched him had been forgotten. And Ginny would have believed it had she not spotted the chain of the watch sticking from his jeans pocket. The fact that he had the watch with him served as proof that the gift had really meant something...

Now as most of the party attendees sat around the banks of the Burrow's pond, some drying off from an afternoon in the water--others continuing to attack the tables of food that had been set up around the pond--Ginny was still keeping an eye on her son as he sat around with his cousins and friends.

Jackson was sitting a few yards away in a group that consisted of Ron and Hermione's 14 year old twin sons Reed and Ethan, Fred and Angelina's 14 year old daughter Jayde, Percy's 15 year old daughter Molly, and Remus and Tonks' 16 year old son John, as well his best friends from Hogwarts--Luke and Liam. The small group of teenagers, which had recently extracted themselves from the pond, were laughing and Jackson was gesturing about something with his free left hand, obviously telling some sort of story which was amusing the rest of the teens. Ginny's eyes settled upon the group, her gaze fixing on the girl who had settled herself in Jackson's lap and who he had wrapped his right arm around.

Ginny had been surprised when Jackson had come home a few weeks ago from an afternoon of swimming and had seemed off and generally nervous. When she had tried to delve in and ask him about the afternoon, he'd been rather quiet and unwilling to share anything more than a few words as an answer. It had been quite frustrating to try to get him to open up and she had been worried something bad had happened. Finally after a meal of near complete strained silence, Ginny had asked him if he was alright and if there was anything he needed to tell her.

The look on his face had been priceless. Jackson's eyes had gone wide and she had watched as he had swallowed his initial words.

"She kissed me."

Those had been his first words about what was preoccupying his mind. She'd been slightly confused as to who "she" was, but after a second, the words seemed to tumble from his mouth and he went onto explain how Anna had kissed him and he'd kissed her and how they were now apparently dating.

As quick as it came, her confusion had turned into excitement and elation and she had had a hard time keeping her delight at bay as she listened to him spill about the afternoon's developments. Anna and Jackson had been friends since they were young children and in the past few years, Ginny couldn't help but observe, that she might be becoming more to him. It had taken him a while to come around to that realization, but Ginny was excited that he'd picked the one girl who she knew could put up with him and at the same time, challenge him.

And so these past few weeks she'd been witness to the budding relationship. Anna had always been around most summers, but this one had been different so far. Instead of competitive games of football in the yard and trips to the coast to swim and fish--this one had been filled with walks to the village and late evenings of watching movies cuddled on the couch. And just last week, they'd gone to London for an afternoon date that had stretched into the evening.

Things certainly were changing and from what Ginny had witnessed and Molly Weasley herself had been quick to point out--the two were falling for each other...

"Who's up for some Quidditch?!" someone shouted from behind Ginny and knocking her from her revelry. She turned to look over her shoulder to find Ron, George and Bill all standing there with their arms laden with broomsticks and gear from the shed.

Ginny couldn't help but smile as she watched nearly all of the nieces and nephews perk up at the proposition of a famed Weasley Quidditch match in the orchard. There were several replies of "Yeah!" and the group where Jackson had been sitting quickly dispersed as the teens hurried to claim a broom and a spot in the match. These days there were plenty of people to fill out 2 full Quidditch teams--adults and children--so there was plenty of rotating and substituting as everyone fought for a spot.

"Are you playing Gin?" Ron asked as he ambled over, his arms now free of the bundle of broomsticks he'd been carrying--save his own.

"Mmmm...not today," she replied with a smirk.

"Scared?" Ron goaded with a grin.

"Yeah...I'm terrified, Ron," Ginny answered sarcastically.

"I knew it..." Ron said with a triumphant nod.

"Actually...I don't want to make anyone look bad," Ginny said smugly. "So I'll leave this game to the amateurs."

"Oooh...Well I'm sorry if I offended the Quidditch Queen," Ron shot back as he grinned over his shoulder and moved away to join the crowd of teens and adults trying to split themselves into fair teams.

Ginny could only smile as her brother walked away. They were both in their mid thirties now with kids of their own, but sometimes it felt like they were kids themselves again--goading, competing and teasing one another over everything.

As the teams were divided up and a fair amount of younger kids, teens and adults were split up, the rest of the crowd that had elected to sit out began to gather around and group their chairs so that they had a good view of the playing field near the orchard. Over the years, Molly and Arthur had been able to acquire more land around the Burrow. It seemed as each new wave of grandchildren arrived for them, another acre was added for their growing family to play and enjoy. These days there was no risk of flying too high or far and being seen by Muggles in the surrounding village--there was ample room for a pitch.

"Is anybody sitting here?" a voice from beside her once more pulled Ginny from thought. She looked to her right to find Anna standing next to the empty chair beside her. The young girl was waiting with an uncertain smile for Ginny's answer.

"No," Ginny said lightly. "I think Fred was sitting there before but he's playing now," she assured Anna as she gestured towards the pitch. "Go ahead and sit. I'll take care of him if he comes back and bothers you," she added with a smile as Anna laughed in relief and sat down.

Soon Hermione, Tonks, Molly, Angelina, Alecia, Remus, Arthur, and Hermione and Ron's youngest daughter, Scarlett, had gathered around, all sitting tight and relaxed while the game began.

As the players took to the air, the Quaffle was thrown up, and the snitch and Bludgers released, Ginny glanced over to find Anna watching the action with rapt attention and a little more excitement than she'd expected. She'd almost asked why Anna hadn't joined the game but realized in the next moment that she couldn't. Anna was a Muggle and could not ride a broom without a wizard or witch taking her up. So far that difference in their relationship and friendship hadn't really come up. But Ginny wondered now if things as simple as Anna not being able to enjoy or partake in Jackson's favorite sport and hobby would someday become a problem...

As Ginny watched Anna, contemplating the new couple, the young girl had noticed Ginny's attention on her.

"Excited?" Ginny asked, hoping to skate over the fact that she'd been staring.

"Actually...very," Anna admitted with a nod and smile. "Jackson talks about the game all the time. He even tried to explain it to me the other day by drawing a diagram...but...I'm still not totally getting it. Flying around on broomsticks is still a bit beyond my comprehension," she added.

"I think Quidditch is something you really have to see in order to believe--if not truly understand," Hermione offered in understanding, having herself been introduced to the game and the wizarding world after years of being oblivious.

"You finally understand it after all these years?" Ginny asked with a playful grin and tone in her voice. Ginny's comment was rewarded with chuckles from those sitting around them that understood Hermione's disinterest in the sport, despite being surrounded by a husband and family that were absolutely crazy about Quidditch.

Hermione herself suppressed a smile and instead rolled her eyes at Ginny before she responded.

"It's not that I don't understand the rules," Hermione explained matter-of-factly. "It's just that I've never quite understood the crazy obsession that some seem to have about it..."

"Don't let her fool you," Tonks said in a low voice as she leaned in towards Anna and Ginny. "She's just sore because she's always been rubbish on a broom," she continued with a laugh as Hermione had turned away from the conversation and was now talking with Arthur and Remus about something that was sure to be Ministry related.

Ginny chuckled, not able to remember the last time they actually succeeded in getting Hermione up on a broom. It had been a few years since they'd coaxed her into playing.

Quiet, comfortable chatter fell over the little group and Ginny settled back and began to watch the match in earnest.

While it was quite entertaining to watch her brothers play--each of them trying to relieve their glory days despite the loss of skill and fitness that age had robbed from them--Ginny was most interested in the teenagers playing. Many of them played for their house teams and most of them were quite skilled.

Reed and Ethan, Ron and Hermione's oldest twin sons were beaters on the Gryffindor house team. And Fred's daughter Jayde and George's daughter Eliza were both Chasers on that same team. Remus and Tonks's son John and daughter Orelia were both members of the Hufflepuff team--John the Keeper and Orelia a Chaser. And Bill's eldest, Victoire was the Seeker for the Ravenclaw team.

Jackson was of course, the Seeker for the Gryffindor house team. He'd been on the team since his 2nd year and for the last 3 years he'd led the Gryffindors to victory and claim of the Hogwarts Quidditch cup.

Jackson, who had been on a broom since a young age, seemed to fly effortlessly and gracefully. Yet there was a danger and an edge to the way he flew--a careful balance of calculated precision and reckless abandon in every move. Ginny had to admit that sometimes it was mesmerizing watching her eldest son fly--so much so that at times it was easy to forget exactly which raven haired teenager she was watching...

"Oh my God," Anna gasped suddenly, drawing Ginny's attention. "What is he doing?" she added in confusion as she pointed towards a dark streak that seemed to be falling against the afternoon sky.

"Feinting," Ginny said with a smile as she watched Jackson taking a direct nosedive towards the ground.

"What?" Anna replied, still flummoxed.

"He's making Victoire think he's seen the Snitch--which they need to catch in order to win," Ginny explained. "He's trying to throw her off. He hasn't actually seen it," she finished, watching as Victoire joined in on the chase and took the bait.

They watched as the two streaked towards the ground at what seemed like breakneck speed, Victoire hurrying to keep the pace with her cousin as he plummeted towards the earth.

Ginny threw a sideways look at Anna, who with a hand covering her mouth, was sitting on pins and needles as she watched the scene before her.

Ginny glanced up in time to see Jackson pull out of the dive gracefully only a few foot or two from the ground. He steered away almost effortlessly and began his slow ascent upward back towards the action with a grin on his face. Victoire was not so lucky and she only barely only managed not to crash full force into the ground. Sticking her feet out and catching the ground, she was forced to skid along for a few moments before she was able to pull herself to a stop.

"How did he--?" Anna said in amazement as she trailed off.

"He's good, isn't he?" Tonks offered and Anna had no choice but to nod in agreement.

"Nearly as good as his mum was," Angelina chimed in with a smile and Ginny was forced to shake her head, trying to blush in embarrassment.

"No. He's a much better flyer than I ever was," Ginny said truthfully and humbly. "Plus he's got those long arms he uses to snatch things out of the air that I would have killed for."

"Don't be modest, Miss Professional Quidditch Star," Tonks added in. "You were good."

"You played professionally?" Anna asked with interest.

Ginny nodded.

"For a few years--after Jackson was born and before I had Alex," Ginny clarified. "It was something that I'd always wanted and the opportunity arose. I got my few good years in and then I retired to be a mom and write."

"That's really cool," Anna replied sincerely.

"Thank you," Ginny replied with a smile.

"Doesn't Jackson have a couple of offers to play?" Alecia asked.

"He did," Ginny admitted. "The Tornadoes, The Cannons, and Puddlemere United all offered him tryouts--but he chose the Auror academy instead."

"So he'd decided for sure now?" Arthur asked with interest.

"Yeah," she replied. "We had a talk earlier in the summer about things and he's pretty set on it. And since he got the early acceptance--Auror training is what he talks about when he mentions his future after graduation."

"Well it is what he's wanted to be since he was little," Hermione offered. "Since he found out that an Auror was what Harry wanted to be."

"If that's the case--Jackson has just as much a chance to play professional Quidditch," Tonks interjected. "Harry was a good player. That kid could fly. And no doubt that Jackson got some of that talent on the field from him too."

Ginny could only nod as Tonks spoke and there were murmurs of agreement from the group.

A heavy weight always seemed to settle on Ginny's chest when there was talk about what Harry wanted to be or would've been. However nice it was to imagine or dream about the possibilities--there was still the fact that Harry couldn't be and wasn't. He was gone and had never gotten the chance.

"I think Jackson's choice to be an Auror has more to do with him genuinely wanting to help people than taking after his dad," Ginny admitted quietly.

There was a little bit of silence following Ginny's words and she wondered if they were all thinking that perhaps talking about Harry had upset her.

"Did he--Jackson's dad--play professionally?" Anna asked amidst the quiet, uncertain that her question was appropriate.

"No," Ginny replied as light as she could manage. "He played at school--and--he probably could have played after. I don't think he ever wanted to be anything other than an Auror, really though. But he--he died before any of that could be decided..."

"I'm sorry," Anna replied quietly. "I shouldn't pry..."

"Don't be," Ginny assured her with a warm smile. "And don't be afraid to ask questions about things here."

Anna looked a little relieved and perhaps it was that which prompted her to speak again.

"It's just that--Jackson never really talks about him," Anna admitted. "I mean, not that he hasn't told me some things. I know that he died before Jackson was born--in a war..." Anna continued, her last statement containing a bit of confirmation that she'd remembered right. Ginny nodded. "But nothing really more specific."

"I understand why he doesn't. I mean--I know how he feels somewhat with me losing my mum when I was little. Sometimes...you just don't want to talk about things," Anna added. "That's why I've never really pressed him to talk more..."

"I do sort of find it a bit odd that he hasn't talked more," Hermione added questioningly. "He does know quite a bit about Harry and usually he has no problem asking and discussing things about him."

"It bothers him more than he lets on," Ginny said simply. "He's pretty good at handling it when people come up to him and want to talk about Harry. But I know as he's gotten older--he's gotten more aware of what not having Harry all these years has meant for him."

"It may affect him--as one would expect it should," Molly interjected this time. "But I've always been impressed and proud of how Jackson does handle himself--especially being more in the spotlight because of whose son he is."

Ginny nodded in agreement as did most of the people sitting around them. But as she looked to her right, she caught sight of Anna's slightly confused expression as she digested the meaning of Molly's last words.

But before Anna could perhaps ask another question about Harry and what Molly had meant, there was a great cheer from the pitch. Someone had won already.

The mass of flying figures that had been playing started making their way back to the ground and the long, lanky figure holding his arm aloft and clutching the struggling snitch in his right hand.

Jackson had caught the snitch after only about 10 minutes. And although Victoire was 2 years younger, she was still a very good Seeker in her own right--so the fact that Jackson had been victorious so quickly was impressive.

Slowly some of the flyers began making their way back towards the chairs. The snitch was released once more and those who had sat out that first game quickly flew up into the air to take the places of those departing the first round of games.

“Good catch Jackson,” Arthur offered as his grandson approached the group.

“Thanks,” he replied as a hand was offered in congratulations and he accepted the light hand shake as he passed by on his way over towards his mum and girlfriend.

“How’d you like it?” Jackson asked with a grin as he swooped down to give Anna a quick hug.

“That was absolutely–mad,” Anna replied with a smile of her own as he pulled away. “The way you were flying and diving–you’re absolutely brilliant–but crazy,” she finished in a breathless sort of amazement.

Jackson’s grin only grew wider and he flushed slightly at her words.

“Be careful now,” a voice from behind them interrupted and Ginny looked up to see that Fred had joined the group again. He took a quick swig of water from his cup and then smiled wickedly at his nephew. “Any more praise and I think the bloke’s grin might actually stretch past his ears. And we wouldn’t want to break that handsome face of his, would we?”

Fred’s comment earned him a whispered admonishment from his wife sitting next to him and Jackson flushed a different sort of red from embarrassment. Anna, Ginny, and Tonks just laughed.

After a few moments it seemed as though Jackson had composed himself from his embarrassment and turned again to talk to Anna.

“Do you want to come and get a little bit closer look at the game?” Jackson asked her as he gestured over his shoulder towards the pitch. “I’m probably not going to play for a few more rounds and maybe I could take you on a little broom ride while we wait?” he asked quietly, scratching at the side of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.

“I–I can fly too?” she asked, surprised to learn that she might have the chance to experience something that only a few minutes ago seemed totally beyond her reach.

“Yeah–if you ride with me,” Jackson assured her. “And I promise–I won’t go to high or fast. I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he added with a nod.

“Yeah–I would love to. That would be amazing,” she replied. “But–I think I’m going to use the loo first. If that’s ok?”

“Yeah–I’ll wait down there for you,” he replied as he gestured towards the pitch. “Just come on down and join us when you’re done.”

“Ok,” she replied with an eager nod as she stood up. Jackson leaned down and gave her a quick kiss.

There were a few wolf-whistles and jeering cheers from his uncles, and the women sitting around all exchanged looks and knowing smiles as she two teens broke apart and Jackson cast an embarrassed look at them all. Swiftly, he and Anna turned to leave.

------------------------------ ---------------------------


Levitat ing the last of the dirty dishes into the kitchen, Hermione sighed as she settled the tower of plates next to the sink with a wave of her wand. The new stack joined the others that had already been brought in and were being washed by a charmed brush that was hovering and dipping between mid-air and the soapy water. Hermione leaned back against the counter and took a moment to rest.

Today had been a fun day. Sure, it had been exhausting with having to set things up and the rush of excitement and constant action that came with hosting a party with a bunch of teenagers and the Weasley brothers. But it was days like this that Hermione always looked forward to. Parties and holidays were always a raucous affair--but moreover, it was a time when they could all be together as the big crazy family they'd grown into over the years. This is what they'd fought for, and some of them had died for--a wonderful future full of marriages, babies and birthdays.

But today had also been a tad bittersweet and that near constant reminder of loss that had always been in the background these last 17 odd years was made all the more prominent even in a time of happiness. Jackson's 17th birthday was a celebration of what had been won in the war against Voldemort. He was one of the first of the new generation that didn't have to worry about fighting and battling evil. He'd grown up in a world that--while still healing--was vastly more full of hope and light than the previous.

But he was also, in some ways, a symbol for what they'd given up in exchange for this future. Like everyone else, she saw so much of Harry in her nephew--not only in looks, but in mannerisms and personality. Sometimes she'd catch herself watching him and it brought back so many memories of her old friend. And there had been many times that she'd wished that Harry was there to watch his son grow--to be there as a dad and do all those things he hadn't gotten to. Just as she'd been sure that Ron would be--she knew Harry would've been a great dad and so proud of his son.

Stifling a yawn, Hermione roused herself from her thought of the past and walked from the kitchen into the hallway, hoping to be able to duck into the loo before the next round of kids was finished playing and decided it would be time for a mass bathroom break. But as she made her way past the doorway of the sitting room, she was momentarily distracted by the figure she caught from the corner of her eye. Taking a step backwards, Hermione stood at the doorway as she silently watched the young woman who was focused intently on the mess of pictures and frames littering the mantle over the fireplace.

Anna seemed to be very interested in the moving pictures of children, weddings, and parties that were waving down at her and smiling from their frames.

Hermione very much liked Anna--as did everyone else in the family. They'd met her a few times over the years as she had been Jackson's friend from primary school, but this had been the first time she had met the entire family and the first time any of them had seen her since she had begun dating him.

She had seemed a little overwhelmed at different times during the day. Hermione really couldn't blame her. She reckoned that it was not only enough sensory overload with all the magic being used and magical things around the Burrow--but the Weasley family itself was a massive force to be reckoned with. Anna had survived both Fred and George so far and had even handled the attention and mollycoddling of the matriarch of the Weasley family herself.

No, Anna would be just fine and Hermione sincerely hoped that she and Jackson would last. She was certainly a million times better than the last girlfriend he’d had. The overbearing blonde had conjured up past images of another overzealous teenage girl who had clung to her own husband like some blood-sucking leach. Truth be told, the entire family had breathed a sigh of relief when they were informed that Laura would not be making any more appearances.

With the last few moments filled with the thoughts going through her mind, Hermione had forgotten that she had been watching Anna as she surveyed the photographs. It was when the younger girl looked up and noticed Hermione’s attention that they both startled.

I probably shouldn't be in here by myself, should I?" Anna spoke first, sounding a bit worried that her lingering in the sitting room was somehow inappropriate.

"Oh...no. It's perfectly alright," Hermione assured her as she moved into the room towards the fireplace to stand next to the younger woman. "I just wasn't aware that anyone else was up here in the house. You're more than welcome here Anna," she added with a smile.

"I came up here to use the bathroom and I got a bit distracted looking at all these pictures," Anna admitted, glancing once more at the figures moving and twirling in their frames.

"It's the way they seem to interact with you that gets you," Hermione admitted. "I remember the first time I saw wizarding photos...it can be quite mesmerizing. It's almost as if there's a bit of a person inside of the photograph that captures them perfectly."

Anna nodded her agreement.

"I suppose it helps in recalling good memories and moments," Hermione continued wistfully, surveying the photos herself. She hadn't taken a good look at a lot of these in a while. Some of them were quite old.

"Especially...with the people we've lost over the years," she finished.

The two took a few moments to continue looking at the pictures. It was Anna who broke the silence.

"Is this...Jackson?" Anna asked in an amused sort of confusion as she pointed towards a picture near the back that sat in a simple black frame.

Hermione took a step towards the mantle and craned her neck slightly to see which photograph Anna was looking at. It was indeed a photo of a tall, lanky teenager with a mop of messy black hair. It was easy enough to assume it was Jackson...

"No," Hermione replied as she reached for the frame and lifted it from the mantel to get a closer look. As she brought the picture to herself, the young man in it smiled and waved at her, his brilliant green eyes dazzling from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

"That's Harry...Jackson's dad," Hermione added, touching the glass lightly with her fingertips.

"Oh. I didn't think Jackson wore glasses," Anna admitted. "But...they do look so much alike," she added in amazement.

"I know," Hermione agreed, still watching the photo-likeness of her old friend in the frame. "We say all the time that he looks like his dad...but he really does."

"How old is he in this picture?" Anna asked.

"Probably just a little bit younger than Jackson is now," Hermione said after a moment of thought about placing the picture. "Maybe 16...or...maybe even right after he turned 17 that summer," Hermione added, trying to remember anything about his appearance that would place Harry's exact age.

"How old was he when he died?" Anna asked quietly.

"Just a few months after he'd turned 18," Hermione replied with a sad smile and a sigh as the photo Harry continued to smile at her.

"18?" Anna repeated in quiet disbelief. "Wow...that's just...really young."

"It is...too young," Hermione agreed heavily.

"And he was fighting in a war?" Anna asked.

"We all were," Hermione replied. "We were all fighting against a dark wizard who was hell-bent on destroying everything in our world that was good and right. Harry was involved more-so than the rest of us…there were things beyond any of our control that pushed him to the fore-front of the fight,” she added, hoping that Anna wouldn’t ask for a more detailed explanation of the prophecy and how fate had made Harry, The Chosen One.

“And he gave up everything,” Hermione added sadly. “He gave up his life, to save us all; So that the rest of us could go on.”

“And he didn’t know about Jackson?” Anna asked breathlessly.

Hermione shook her head.

“Like you said…they were young,” Hermione said with a sigh. “Ginny was 17 and I can only assume that they were caught up in the unknown of the moment and the war–not knowing what the future looked like or even if there would be one. And it wasn’t 'till a few weeks after he’d died that Ginny found out she was expecting. So Harry never knew he was going to be a father…”

A few moments of silence passed between the two women as Hermione’s last words digested. Hermione wondered what the young woman was thinking and how much more confused she must have just made her by giving her the briefest summary of the second war ever.
Anna finally let out a long breath, manifesting her sentiments of the situation in one simple gesture.

“It’s…a lot to fathom,” Anna admitted. “There are so many things I want to ask…but, I’m not sure some of them would be appropriate.”

“Not only is magic real…but…there’s this whole other world that I’m just trying to scrape the surface of understanding,” Anna continued before Hermione could interject. “And then there was this war that was going on and the rest of the world carried on oblivious to it. It just all seems beyond comprehension.”

“It did affect the non-magical world,” Hermione replied. “There were disasters and murders outside the wizarding world that went on that were given other, more believable explanations at the time. The war was not only fought to preserve our way of life–but to also, I suppose, to protect that barrier between magical and non-magical peoples. We fought so that the rest of the world could continue carrying on, oblivious to the fact that there was an evil wizard who wanted nothing more than to eradicate and exterminate anyone not of pure magical blood–regardless of whether you were a magical or not.”

“I want to know more,” Anna admitted. “I…I want to be let into that side of Jackson’s life. I know how he is with me when we’re at his house, or mine or even just out in public. But besides being here with all of you…or even what he shares with me…I know there’s more and there are things he downplays regarding being a wizard. I just want to understand, I guess…”

“I was a lot like that at your age,” Hermione said with a smile, knowing that if Ron were here right now, he’d probably tell her that she was still very much like that. “I always wanted to know everything–to understand the incomprehensible. But as I got older, I think I’ve come to realize that there is so much that you can’t get your mind around–especially in this world. Sometimes…you just have to believe in it and go with it.”

Anna nodded, but from the way she continued to survey the photographs with an uneasiness, Hermione knew that Anna was not satisfied with the last answer.

“But…I have something that may answer some things for you,” Hermione said as a sudden idea sprang to mind. “Perhaps give you a better understanding of some of the history…” she added as she waved her wand simply in the air towards the doorway.

Anna watched the gesture with a confused curiosity, as nothing seemed to have happened. But it was only seconds later that something zoomed in through the doorway and Hermione deftly caught the large book as it stopped in mid-air before her.

Smiling, Hermione handed the book over to Anna, who took it cautiously.

“ It’s A History of Magic,” Hermione added, even as the younger girl traced a finger over the raised letters that made up the title of the book. “It actually goes back quite far…but the later chapters are more recent and might fill in some of those blanks you have.”

“I can borrow this?” Anna asked in confirmation as she cracked open the front cover and began perusing the chapter table of contents.

“You can have that copy,” Hermione reassured her and Anna looked up surprised. “We’ve got more than one around here anyway," she added with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," Anna replied, paging through the leather-bound tome. "I think this'll really help."

"And remember...if you have any other questions, we're all here to answer things," Hermione reminded Anna before she left the sitting room and proceeded to the loo.

-------------------------------- --------------------------------------

"There you are," a voice said from behind her, startling Anna from her preoccupation. She turned to look over her shoulder just as two strong arms wrapped themselves around her and a thorough kiss was placed upon her lips before she could resist.

"Hi," she said breathlessly as Jackson slid in behind her and pulled her to him and onto his lap.

"I was wondering where you went to," Jackson continued as he but his face against her hair and breathed in deeply. "You didn't come back to the pitch to watch and I was hoping to give you that broom ride," he added quietly.

"I'm sorry," Anna apologized as she closed the book she had been so occupied with. After she had come up to the house to use the bathroom and then had had a conversation with his aunt, she had sat down in the sitting room and begun to skim through the A History of Magic copy she'd been given. There had been so much information and it had been so intriguing that she had apparently lost track of just how much time had elapsed.

"So I've lost your attention to a book, now?" Jackson asked aloud, clearly amused by his girlfriend's bookish behavior.

"No--I mean--I didn't realize I'd been gone that long," Anna sputtered. "You're Aunt gave me it to look at and I guess I just lost track of time," she explained.

"My Aunt Hermione?" Jackson inquired knowingly. Anna nodded.

"Yeah, she's pretty big into books. It's kind of her thing..." Jackson told her. "She's written some and edited some others. Is that one of her's?" he asked as he reached for the leather bound book that Anna had turned over in her lap.

Before she could resist or keep him from taking it, he had flipped it over to reveal the title.

"Why are you reading this?" Jackson asked sounding slightly ruffled.

"You're aunt thought it might answer some questions," Anna replied quietly. "Give me a little bit more information about your world..."

Jackson was silent for a moment.

"You could just ask me if you have questions," Jackson replied quietly. Anna could feel him stiffen up and pull away slightly, as if this conversation and the fact that she was interested in this book had upset him.

"I know. But maybe there are some things you don't feel comfortable talking to me about..." she replied gently.

"Yeah...but still--you don't have to go to some book for that," he replied, sounding slightly pouty about the whole situation.

"Have you read this?" Anna asked him.

"Some of it," he answered after a few seconds. "We have to for school."

"And it's true?" Anna asked.

"Which bits?" Jackson asked, sounding slightly annoyed at the question.

“This last stuff...about the war and..." Anna replied, trailing off.

"My family," Jackson finished for her. It was a statement, not a question.

Anna nodded.

"Yeah...pretty much," Jackson answered her. "My Aunt made sure they got the parts about the war right and they didn't embellish anything."

Anna was quiet for a moment before she spoke again.

“So your dad...” Anna began, but Jackson cut her off.

“Was a hero. Yeah,” he replied. “He's the reason we're all free from all the bad things that Voldemort and his followers were doing–murdering people and trying to take everything over. There was a prophecy that pinned him as the only one who could end it–and he died doing it.”

The two were quiet for another whole minute.

“So why did me reading this, make you so upset?” Anna asked as she turned to face him completely. Jackson did not look surprised at her question, instead he was staring off beyond her, looking quite sullen and brooding.

He swallowed before answering her quietly.

“I–just--” he began, unable to verbalize his thoughts initially. “I didn't–want--you to think differently of me...”

“What?” Anna blurted out in confusion.

“Why–why would you think I would--?” Anna continued as she recovered from her confusion, but Jackson broke in.

“Because everybody else does,” Jackson said forcefully as he locked eyes with Anna. His green eyes were dark and intense–but there was also a level of pain there that she had never seen from him before. It scared her.

“To them I'm the son of the great Harry Potter,” Jackson continued on bitterly, gesturing towards the book as if it represented the whole of the wizarding public. “He's The Boy Who Lived, The Man Who Defeated Voldemort....their savior. But I'm the one who has people come up and want to shake my hand, gawk at me, and whisper as I walk by on the street.”

“In my world I have to deal constantly with people reminding me how much I look and act like him,” Jackson said. “I can escape that all when I'm with my friends or here with my family....or with you. But otherwise...people have got all these expectations of who I'm supposed to be. I'm famous because of who my father was...a man I never got to meet.”

As Jackson paused, Anna brought a hand up to his face and gently placed against his cheek. Jackson sighed and seem to melt into her touch.

“I just don't want you to read all that and think any differently of me,” he whispered to her honestly and painfully.

“I promise you....that won't ever happen,” Anna said with all the conviction she could manage as she looked directly into his eyes.

“I know you. And there's nothing that any book could say about you or your family that would change the way I think....or feel about you,” she told him.

“Other witches and wizards–they can think what they want about you being famous and all that,” Anna continued on. “But it doesn't matter to me what they think...I promise you.”

“I know,” Jackson sighed heavily in admittance as his arms pulled her tight to him once more. Most of the tension and the stress that had been in his muscles had relaxed and her assurances seemed to have at least stifled and stilled his qualms for the moment.

“I love what we have,” Jackson whispered as he buried his face in her hair. “And I just–I got scared of it changing. I'm sorry....”

“It's ok,” Anna whispered back. “This isn't going to change by me knowing more...I don't want it to...” she finished as she turned in his lap and looked up at him again.

Jackson nodded.

“Thank you,” Jackson added with a small smile. “For just wanting me to be me....”

Anna nodded in response and without speaking, she leaned upward and bridged the space between them, kissing him gently.

“So I really lost you to a book?” Jackson asked after a few moments of contented silence after they'd broken their kiss. “You'd rather read up than go for a fly with me?” Jackson asked teasingly.

“What's wrong with books?” Anna asked challengingly. Anna would be going to university in the fall and would be studying to be a teacher. Although he doubted that Anna would ever be on the manic level as his Aunt regarding books, he knew that she enjoyed reading and the written word.

“Nothing...” Jackson replied. He, on the other hand, wasn't much of a bookworm at all. “It's just–I assure you that Quidditch and actually flying are much more fun than any old history book,” he added with a smile.

“So it is a universal thing?” Anna asked with a smile. Jackson furrowed his brows in confusion. “Boys and their sports?” Anna replied knowingly. “Unless it's about zooming around at ungodly speeds or a bunch of blokes winning some big match–a book wouldn't be worth reading?”

“I read things....” Jackson replied as he averted his eyes. It was sort of true. He did read for school, but admittedly it wasn't anything he enjoyed and he didn't always read through his school texts diligently and with rapt interest. And he'd read a history this summer–alright, a history on Quidditch–and he had, admittedly, already read it once or twice before.

“ Mhmmm...you said you read this for school,” Anna said with a smile as she held up A History of Magic. “That doesn't count.”

“I'd read this,” Jackson countered as he picked up a medium-sized, hardcover book that was sitting on the side table and brought it to his lap for her to see. It was entitled “Hail” and featured a black and white picture of a man chasing a taxi cab on its front cover.

Anna laughed.

“It's a picture book,” she said as he opened it and found that the first few pages were devoted solely to black and white pictures of people in various street scenes.

“There are words,” Jackson indicated slightly defensive as he turned to the next page that featured an introduction by the author of the book.

Just to tease her, or perhaps prove that he did and could read, he read a few lines of it aloud.

“The street photographer can best be identified not by what they shoot, but why they shoot. Their purpose is to make that discovery, to find a surprise, to give expression to their own curiosity about people and the things that people construct. The best ones are like Zen hunters. I say Zen hunter, because you can't force the unexpected. You can only be open to it,” he finished, and paused to look at Anna.

She was smiling at him.

“And you'd read this?” she asked him curiously as he turned the page. “You're into street photography now?”

“I could be...” he said with a chuckle as he continued turning the pages slowly, taking in the pictures on the page.

He was no artist himself and couldn't claim a real creative bone in his body....but he had to admit, these pictures were amazing. He might not have sought out this book himself, but he certainly didn't mind paging through it.

He was beginning to get the main theme of the book. Every picture featured a street scene in which someone, or many people were hailing a cab on the street. But it wasn't just about that interaction–between cab and passenger. What was going on around those two entities on the street seemed to leap up off the page and give you a snapshot of that exact moment in life for those featured on that section of busy street–what they were feeling and thinking.

“These are quite cool,” Jackson relayed aloud, clearly impressed.

“Who's book is this?” Anna wondered aloud, dually noting that it was slightly odd to find a non-magical photography book in the midst of an overly magical dwelling.

“I think it might be my cousin Nora's,” Jackson replied as he continued to peruse it. “I know her grandparents–my Aunt Hermione's parents–got her a camera and some books for her birthday last week. They're not magical–so this is probably from them.”

They continued on paging through the book, pausing to read some of the commentary that was sprinkled in with the images. The author had included some short stories about some of the more unique pictures and people and how he'd gotten the shot and why he'd decided to capture that particular scene.

When they'd reached the end of the book, Anna quickly read the small biographical blurb about the author and made to close the back cover, but Jackson's steady hand held fast to the back of it, keeping it open.

She thought perhaps he hadn't finished reading and looked up to find him squinting at the page in what she could only read as confused intrigue.

“What?” she inquired as she looked from him to the book. At her question, Jackson's eyes snapped up away from the book and found hers.
“Hmmm?” Jackson murmured in reply, as if he hadn't heard her question clearly.

“I was wondering what was so captivating?” she asked again, smirking at him.

“Nothing,” He replied shaking his head. “I was just finishing reading that...” he added, gesturing to the jacket of the book.

“Oh,” Anna responded with a nod, her eyes once more raking over the paragraph about the author, Evan Smith, who was a famed rock' n' roll photographer turned street photographer and photojournalist who had most recently joined the scholarly ranks as a professor. His biography was accompanied by a small self portrait of himself. He was quite good looking with dark wavy hair that fell playfully over his face and rugged features that were punctuated by high, prominent cheekbones.

“But I'm done now,” he added with a nod as he closed the book and removed it from his lap. He gave her a quick kiss as he placed the book back on the side table.

“Now that we've got in our daily dose of reading....” Anna said teasingly. “Can I go for that fly now?” she asked with a hopeful smile.

“If you still want,” Jackson replied wistfully. “I guess....I can take you.”

“You guess?” Anna teased back. “Or am I going to have to find some other wizard to show me how to handle his broomstick?”

Jackson let out a snort and Anna quirked her brow at his reaction.

“That's a double edged sword that one is,” Jackson said with a smile as he struggled to contain his amusement.

“What are you on about?” Anna asked, clearly not understanding that she had insinuated something more. Apparently wizarding slang did not translate the same in all realms of conversation.

“Never mind,” Jackson chuckled, picking her up and causing her to squeak loudly in surprise. “Let's go find you a broomstick to ride.”



A/N: The passage about street photography that Jackson reads is from the blog post "Defining Street Photography" by Dave Beckerman in 2009.
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