I hope all my fellow Americans enjoyed their Thanksgiving feasts. I have one of my sons home from college, so it was extra joyful for me!
Thanks to my beta team, Sherylyn, Arnel, and Sue for their endless assistance and feedback in getting this into shape.
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Contagion | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts Characters:None Genres: Drama Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 210 Summary: Muggle and magical illnesses are separate. Until they’re not. Harry has always had a discernable enemy. This time, he’s fighting an invisible and indiscriminate threat. Part of the Cuts universe. Hitcount: Story Total: 112770; Chapter Total: 2119 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Revelations The coffee mug shattering on the kitchen floor dragged Harry away from the paperwork he’d been looking over. Owen had sent him a large stack of information on known Death Eaters who’d been involved in serious crimes against Muggles. Most of them were now rotting in Azkaban, but there were a few who’d still managed to evade capture. “Sorry!” Ron said, sitting on one of the kitchen stools and holding his bare feet in the air. Harry picked up his wand. “Reparo,” he said, and the mug zoomed back together. He poured Ron a cup of coffee, and placed it in front of him. Ron was mostly back to himself, although there was still an occasional motor function that would go haywire. He’d drop something, or trip unexpectedly. The Healers continued to do their scans, and his all appeared back to normal. They’d told Ron that his slips could be temporary, or they might be a permanent side effect to the illness. Ginny was still confined upstairs. In fact, Vivian and the Healers were up there now with her. She’d also made fine improvements, although every once in a while, she’d sort of zone out as if she was somewhere else. Both Ron and Ginny were impatient with these missteps, but the Healers insisted they had to be patient. Harry had put a Concealment Charm on Ginny’s ring so only the two of them could see it, but as Harry knew she would, Hermione already suspected something was up. True to his word to Ginny, Harry had remained mum. He found he quite liked sharing this secret with her, yet he was also impatient to shout it to the world that she was going to be his wife. His wife. He was going to have a wife. He really liked the sound of that. He fought to control the goofy smile that he knew was blossoming on his face. Fortunately, Ron was distracted by his own blunder. “Sorry, mate. I really wish I could stop dropping things like that,” Ron said, his ears red. “Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied easily, pouring himself another cup of coffee simply to have something to do while he arranged his expression into something remotely dignified. “They said it could take some time.” “I know,” Ron said, nodding. “It happens more when I’m tired or not concentrating on what I’m doing, but what happens if I’m chasing some Dark wizard, and I trip over my own feet or drop my wand?” “That’s not going to happen,” Harry said firmly, unwilling to admit he’d had the same frightening thought. “I’ll always have your back, and you’re not even close to returning to work yet.” “Vivian said they’re talking about easing some of the restrictions, and we’re already considered essential,” Ron replied sullenly. “You’re not on quarantine, you’re on sick leave. There’s no use creating problems before they exist. You’ve only been on your feet for a couple days,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough of being sick to last a lifetime,” Ron said, grumbling as he helped himself to yet another of the excellent blueberry scones that Mrs. Weasley had sent over. Harry reached over and took one, as well. “We feared you were going to die. I’ll take a bit of clumsiness. It’s not like you were ever all that graceful,” he said, taking a bite of the delicious treat. “Sod off,” Ron said good-naturedly. “Merlin, how does she do this?” Harry asked, savoring the scone. “They are good,” Ron said, nodding with his mouth full “She sent over all the things I like. Almost worth getting ill.” “I wouldn’t go that far,” Harry mumbled. “Hopefully Ginny will be able to come out within a day or two, and she’ll get some of her favorites, as well.” “Harry, honestly, you live with two of her brothers. We really don’t need to hear about you giving Ginny whatever her favorite things are,” George said, entering the kitchen and dropping onto a stool. He pulled one of the last two remaining scones from the basket. Ron choked on his scone as Harry grinned. “Too bad for you then, because she’s dead sexy, and I’ll give her anything her heart desires,” he said. “That’s revolting,” George said, although grinning. “Ginny is most definitely not sexy,” Ron said, finally finding his voice. “Oh, but she really is. Maybe I should make something special for her first dinner with us,” Harry said, envisioning Ginny showing off her ring. “She likes when you roast a chicken with all the fixings,” Ron said, his entire countenance brightening. Harry rolled his eyes. “No, Ron — you like that, and you’ve been spoiled enough these past few days. It’s her turn, now.” “You know what she really likes?” George asked. “That gooey macaroni and cheese you make. Don’t ever tell my mum this, or I’ll deny it emphatically, but I think you might even do it better than her.” Ron nodded. “Yeah, Ginny does like that one. She always liked macaroni and cheese best when we were kids.” “Comfort food,” George said sagely. “Well, if anyone deserves some comfort, it’s her,” Harry said, standing up and peering into the cold cabinet. “We need more cheese. I’ll have to get some sent over.” “Do you really think she’ll be sprung today?” George asked, unable to mask the hopefulness in his voice. “She’s so much better, and she’s really giving the medi-witch a hard time about being confined, so it wouldn’t surprise me. The macaroni and cheese will hold until tomorrow if not. And you,” Harry said, getting directly into Ron’s line of vision, “will keep your spoon, fork and any fingers out of it until she’s here.” “Harry,” Ron said, aghast, “I’ve lost so much weight while being so ill. The Healers all said I need fattening up. I can’t believe you’d want to keep me unhealthy.” Harry thumped the back of Ron’s head. “I’ll give you unhealthy. Stay away from it, or I’m telling Ginny you ate her favorite dinner.” “She really has ruined you,” Ron said grumpily. “Yep,” Harry grinned, tossing Ron the last scone and placing the basket by the fireplace. He knew Ron would use it to catch whatever Mrs. Weasley sent through next. “I have some new Owl Orders to fill today. Up for helping me?” George asked, looking at Ron. He shrugged. “Sure. Harry?” “I need to talk to Owen first. He said he’d Floo call since he was actually going into the Ministry this morning,” Harry said, opening another cupboard. “Is he back at work in person?” Ron asked eagerly. “Not full time, but he’s been going in more and more since he was assigned to this task force. He said it’s really weird there since the whole Ministry is practically empty,” Harry said. “Still no support staff, so everything is moving very slowly.” “I can’t wait until we can go out again. I want to reopen the shop, even if it’s only limited. Then I can tell Angelina to come by and buy something,” George said. “You and she have made up, then?” Harry asked. George grinned roguishly. “Oh, she can’t wait to see me.” “More like the other way around,” Ron said under his breath. “Ginny said you’d work it out once you got your head out of your arse. She’ll be happy to hear you’re breathing fresh air again,” Harry said, grinning. George used his fingers colorfully. “What d’you mean me? She was the one who broke it off in the first place.” Harry nodded, still pulling various ingredients out of the cabinets. “Yeah, but she said Ang is the only one who can stay one step ahead of you.” “What is that supposed to mean? I’m getting seriously hacked off now. No one is ever a step ahead of me. It’s part of my charm,” George said indignantly. Harry snorted. “Charm? Is that what you’re calling it?” “Listen, Potter, I’m not certain what’s made you so cheeky this morning, but I’m going to assume it’s because Ginny is on the mend, so I need to cut you some slack. I’d watch my step if I were you, however. I’ve a load of new products just sitting upstairs in need of unsuspecting testers,” George said, folding his arms over his chest. Ron laughed. “I know you love that all your products are banned at Hogwarts, mate, but… you know who you’re talking to, right? Effin’ Lord Voldemort was scared of him. I don’t think you’ll intimidate him with a Canary Cream,” he said, slapping George on the back. “Didn’t you two have work to do?” Harry asked, reckoning he needed to stop them or this could go on all day. “I’ll be up once I’ve spoken with Owen.” The two brothers left the kitchen, George muttering about Harry’s big head as he left. Grinning and feeling extremely buoyant, Harry Floo called in his shopping request and began his pre-cooking preparations. The secret to the macaroni and cheese was letting it simmer over an extended period. He was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear Owen at first when the fireplace flared green. “Oi, Potter! I don’t have all bloody day,” Owen’s gruff voice shouted from the flames. “Owen!” Harry said, spinning around. “It’s good to see you.” “Good to see you, too, lad. Glad you’re up and about and off your lazy arse. How’s that pretty lassie of yours doing?” he asked. “She’s much better. I’m hoping she’ll be released from confinement today. Any word when we all might be allowed out of this house?” Harry asked, settling himself in front of the fire. His knees began to ache almost instantaneously, so he shifted to sit on his backside, bending his legs and wrapping his arms around his knees. “No idea,” Owen said. “I think they’re going to have an uptick in domestic violence cases if they keep folks trapped with their own families much longer. We’re all this close to becoming permanent nutters.” Owen held his fingers so close they were nearly touching. “Have you made any headway on those Death Eater statements?” Harry asked. “Nah, just the same old tossers and the same old crimes. We’re looking for someone with either some medical knowledge, or someone really good at potions who managed to keep their name out of too much scandal,” Owen said, sighing. “Can’t be someone who outright pledged their life, so I’m thinking someone without a Dark Mark.” “What about Lestrange? He was good with potions. Maybe it was a connection to him?” Harry asked. Rodolphus Lestrange had been the one behind Harry’s own poisoning several years prior. “Yeah, but we’ve rounded up his whole lot, and it’s all the same names. My gut is telling me this is coming from someone familiar to all of them, but he kept his head down, and didn’t get caught,” Owen said, scratching the scar on his chin. “It can never hurt to look over the sacred twenty-eight list. Those names always tend to be involved somehow,” Harry suggested. Owen nodded. “I suppose. Why don’t you do that? See if a fresh pair of eyes help, and you can do it from home,” he said. “Is Ethan there with you?” Harry asked. Owen frowned. “Hell, no. What do I want with a bloody noob tailing me and bugging me with his ceaseless prattle? I miss you, lad. You always knew when to keep your trap shut.” “Wow, Owen. That’s some high praise, right there,” Harry said, widening his eyes. Owen scowled. “Shut it. I must’ve forgotten what a cheeky little bastard you could be.” “What about that bloke at St. Mungo’s, the one who told us about Gethin being missing? We could try leaning on him,” Harry said. “Xander Peck, yeah, already thought about it. I’d like to do in-person interviews with both him and the bloke running the underground potions lab in Knockturn Alley. I need to wait for a few more of these restrictions to be lifted. I think we’ll get more in person than over the Floo for that,” Owen said, nodding. “I think you’re right,” Harry agreed. “Of course, I’m bloody well right. That’s why I’m the senior partner, here, laddie,” Owen roared. Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh! So sorry to step on your ego. I must’ve forgotten how fragile you were when discussing your superiority.” “You really can be a little twat, you know that? It’ll be good when your witch is back on her feet, so you can find something better to do with that mouth,” Owen said. “That’ll delight her. Stay safe, Owen, and try to keep yourself out of trouble until I can watch your back,” Harry said. “You? You’re the one who brings all the trouble. Hurry up and get cleared so you can get your arse back here and do some of my scruff work. This place is ruddy boring without you,” Owen said, scoffing. “See you soon, I hope,” Harry said before the green flames vanished. He pulled himself off the floor, wincing at the pain in his bum. He really should’ve thought to cast a Cushioning Charm. Ginny sat upright on her bed, staring expectantly at the closed infirmary door where Hermione had just vanished. She drummed her fingers on the blankets impatiently, but in reality, it only took a moment before her friend’s bushy head returned, carrying some clothing over her arm. “I picked out a pair of jeans and a few tops. It felt weird going through your things,” Hermione said, sounding a bit breathless. “Why?” Ginny asked, sorting through the tops Hermione had selected. “We’ve shared each other’s clothes before.” “I know. It wasn’t the clothes, it was more being in the room you share with Harry,” Hermione said, whispering the end of her sentence. Ginny stared at her, dumbfounded. “Hermione, I think my brother’s really rubbing off on you, and that’s not a good thing.” “Oh, I know it’s ridiculous,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t always just change how you feel simply because you know you should. Why are you in such a hurry for these clothes, anyway?” “Because I think they’re going to release me tonight when they come back for another scan, and I don’t want to leave this room in my pajamas,” Ginny said, staring at a white peasant top with lace trim. “I think I’m much too pasty to wear white.” “You look absolutely fine. Besides, none of us have worn more than pajamas or a track suit since we’ve been stuck here. I’ve actually found it saves time, so I can focus on work right away,” Hermione said. “Well, it makes me feel lazy, and I want to get dressed,” Ginny said firmly. “This one’s nice. Where did you get this?” Hermione asked, holding up a bluish-violet colored one with puffy sleeves. “Siobhan gave it to me,” Ginny said, taking it from Hermione. “I wonder how she’s doing through this whole mess.” “Me, too. I think after it’s all this is over, and we can socialize again, we should arrange a girls’ night. Invite all our old roommates, and we can go to dinner or something,” Hermione said, beaming. “Oh! That’s a fantastic idea, Hermione. We could meet in Diagon Alley somewhere. Padma and Parvati are already there,” Ginny said, feeling enthusiastic about the idea. “I wonder if Padma was able to make the dress I’d ordered for Percy’s wedding. I suppose it doesn’t really matter now, but maybe it was something to keep her busy while she was in quarantine,” Hermione said. “I know George appreciated having the work.” “You can wear it on our girls’ night,” Ginny said decisively. “If there’s one thing this whole mess has taught me, it’s to keep the people that matter to me close. I’ve let things slide too long with some of my old friends. I’m going to try and track down Luna and see if she can come, too.” “Do you know where she is?” Hermione asked. “I don’t know where anyone is right now, but knowing Luna, she’s on some random expedition in some exotic place far away, and she’ll be surprised when we tell her what’s been going on here,” Ginny said, laughing. “She’ll probably blame it on some Gibberish Glubpumper or some other sort of nonsense,” Hermione said. Ginny snorted. “That sounds about right. I hope she’ll be able to meet with us, though. It’ll be fun to get together again.” “I can’t imagine they’re just going to end all these restrictions all at once, even if we now have an antidote,” Hermione said, pondering. “Well, you’re on the committee. What have you heard?” Ginny asked, exasperated. “Don’t look at me. I’ve been unconscious.” “That’s the thing, all my information comes through Vivian, and she’s not all that forthright,” Hermione said, grumbling. “And what does she say?” Ginny asked, wondering if it would ever dawn on Hermione how alike she and Vivian were. “She says it will probably go in phases, so they don’t get overwhelmed with a large number of new cases if it’s continuing to spread,” Hermione said. “Well, what else would it do?” Ginny asked. “We’re hoping that since we’ve isolated everyone, and eliminated it in those who’ve had it, that it might simply dissipate for the moment. We’re still uncertain about its incubation requirements. The Healers at St. Mungo’s and some in the Department of Mysteries are still studying it,” Hermione said. “Spattergroit flares up on occasion without warning, but Cerebrumous Spattergroit has never returned. There’s hope this one will be the same.” “That makes sense. Even if it’s just small gatherings at first, I’ll take it. I want to visit my parents, and I know Harry wants to see Teddy,” Ginny said. “Oh, I can’t imagine how Andromeda has explained it to him. Thank goodness she still has Kreacher there to help keep him entertained,” Hermione said. “I hope he’s not angry with Harry once they finally get together,” Ginny said, biting her lip. “Why would he be? It’s not Harry’s fault,” Hermione said. “He’s three, Hermione — logic isn’t a necessity,” Ginny said, smiling. “He might just be cross that Harry stayed away for so long, and that would break Harry’s heart.” Hermione frowned. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see. Your teammates are anxious to speak with you, as well. Willow has Floo called several times hoping you could talk.” “Oh, I’m looking forward to that, too. I want to know what happened to everyone else, and what kind of symptoms they had,” Ginny said. “None of the Healers have told me specifically which coach was really ill, and which players showed symptoms.” “I heard they did a complete decontamination of the Harpies’ training facility. It should look sparkling new once you finally get to go back,” Hermione said. “Yeah, but that won’t last. It rains so much there, the floor has a permanent layer of mud,” Ginny said, grinning. “And yet you say that fondly,” Hermine said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, I don’t want to talk about Quidditch. Are any of these tops all right, or should I go get more?” “No, this one is good, and you have my favorite jeans. Good job, Hermione. Thanks!” Ginny said, pulling the bluish-violet top toward her and beginning to change. “What time did the Healers say they’d come back?” Hermione asked. “They didn’t, but I hope it’s sooner rather than later. I’m so bored sitting in here,” Ginny said, irritated. She felt as if she’d been stuck in this room for ages. It wasn’t as if she really had anywhere to go, but she wanted to get out and go to a different room, and she wanted to be wearing actual clothes when she did so. She tugged on the jeans Hermione had brought for her and turned to face her friend. “There. How do I look?” “Beautiful as ever,” Hermione said, smiling. “Want me to plait your hair?” “Yes, please,” Ginny said, handing Hermine the brush and sitting with her back towards her. By the time Ginny’s hair was done in a single, thick plait down her back, the door opened, and Vivian and a Healer stepped in. Ginny beamed at them, despite her annoyance that they were still wearing Bubble-Head Charms. “Am I done? Can I go?” she asked eagerly. “Perhaps we ought to do the scan first,” Vivian said, her lips twitching. “Right,” Ginny said, her face coloring despite her best attempts not to let it. She stood, holding her arms slightly out from her sides. “I’m ready, then.” Hermione stood and took a step away from them, watching the procedure carefully. The Healer — the one with the sourest face of all of them, and who never seemed to smile — stood in front of her and waved her wand slowly down Ginny’s front, and then again down her back. A series of lights and smoky symbols materialized in the air in front of the Healer, who perused them carefully. “I see you’re feeling better and eager to escape,” Vivian said, indicating Ginny’s outfit. “You look very nice.” “Thanks. I think they’re planning a dinner for me downstairs — at least my nose has been telling me that something good has been cooking all day. Would you care to join us — if, in fact, I do get the news I’m hoping for?” Ginny asked. “Thanks very much for the offer, but we have a few additional stops to make. If you’re cleared, I’m going to seal the door to this room until a team arrives tomorrow to do a thorough decontamination,” Vivian said. “You’ll be able to reenter in about two weeks.” “There’s no rush. Once I get out, I’m never coming back in this room as long as I live,” Ginny muttered. Vivian actually smiled wide enough for Ginny to see teeth. “I think this room might’ve once been used as a nursery. You might decide you need one of those one day,” she said. Ginny guiltily grasped at her finger where her ring was concealed under a charm. She let go quickly, pressing her lips together. “Right,” she said, coloring even more brilliantly in embarrassment. She knew both Vivian and Hermione had caught her odd, sudden movement. “Well?” she asked, turning towards the Healer and trying to forestall any awkward questions. “What’s the verdict? Am I cleared? Please tell me I’m cleared.” The Healer frowned, looking as if she didn’t like what she was seeing. Ginny wasn’t overly concerned, however, as the Healer never looked like anything pleased her. She remained mum, waving her wand and reading the various runes and symbols that hung in the air before dissipating. At last, she spoke grudgingly, “I can no longer detect any trace of the illness in Miss Weasley’s system.” “Yes!” Ginny said, punching her fist in the air. “That doesn’t mean you can’t contract it again. We still don’t have definitive proof that someone can only suffer the effects once,” the Healer said, scowling more deeply and looking as if she thought Ginny was behaving rather cavalierly with her health. Ginny couldn’t help but wonder if they taught them all that look in Healer training, because they all seemed to know it. Merlin, she hoped it would be years before she ever had to see another Healer. “But all indications are leaning toward an immunity amongst those who’ve suffered,” Vivian said, cajoling. “In any case, everyone else here has been tested regularly, and none of them are showing any symptoms that would indicate it’s still in this house. Well, Miss Weasley, it looks like your wish is granted, and you’re able to join your friends downstairs for your release party dinner.” Grasping Hermione’s hand, Ginny took a step toward the door, nearly bouncing in her excitement. “Er…now?” she asked, when neither Vivian nor the Healer had moved. “Yes, now. Congratulations on your full recuperation,” Vivian said, nodding. “You’ll still need rest and to monitor and record any of those mental lapses you’ve been experiencing,” the Healer said, as if she just couldn’t bear it if she didn’t get in the last word. Ginny was having none of it. She pulled the door open and tugged Hermione outside with her. “Right now, I feel I could beat the Pride of Portree singlehandedly.” Harry placed the hot platter of macaroni and cheese on the counter under a warming charm and turned back to the steaming vegetables. He couldn’t stop glancing at the kitchen stairs, hoping to hear movement. Vivian and a Healer had gone up to see Ginny, and Harry was hoping she’d be released any moment. It would be so good to have her back with all of them. Ron was busy setting the table while complaining about how hungry he was — the smell of food always increased Ron’s ever-present hunger, while George had gone into the wine cellar to get a few bottles for what they all hoped to be a celebratory drink. “How long did it take them to clear me?” Ron asked, staring longingly at the macaroni and cheese. “How should I know? I wasn’t there — you just appeared on the stairs, remember?” Harry asked. “Right. They practically told her this morning they were going to do it. I can’t see what’s taking so long,” Ron said. “They’ve been up there less than ten minutes, Ron,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “I’m certain the wait is harder on Ginny.” “You always take her side,” Ron grumbled. Harry grinned. “Did George finish the owl orders?” he asked. “Nah, he got more after the ones we filled this afternoon. Even remotely, he needs help. He can’t keep doing this alone,” Ron said, suddenly serious and turning away from the food. “Yeah, well, I think we’ve all told him that repeatedly,” Harry said, putting down his cooking utensils. Something in Ron’s voice had caught his attention. Ron nodded. “Yeah. I think… well, it seems… I think maybe I can help him best,” Ron said the last bit very fast, his ears turning dark red. “What are you saying?” Harry asked slowly. He thought he might know. He wasn’t unaware of how well Ron and George worked together, and that Ron did seem to have a very good head for business. He also knew Ron well enough to be aware that the decision itself had to come from Ron. Ron took a deep breath. “How would you… What do you think about me going to work with George… full time?” Ron asked uncertainly. It crossed Harry’s mind that he hadn’t seen Ron looking so vulnerable in a very long time. “I think it’s brilliant,” Harry said shrugging. “You do?” Ron asked, apparently wrong-footed. “Of course, I do. George has always said it’s a family business, so you certainly fit the bill. I’ve seen you two working together during this whole mess. You’re good at this, Ron, and I think you and George both play off each other’s strengths,” Harry said, and he meant it. Ron looked extremely relieved. “Yeah? We do work well together, surprisingly enough. What about you, though?” “What about me? I like being an Auror.” “No. I know that, but… I won’t be there to have your back. You need to promise me you won’t be walking into anything without Owen or someone else big at your back,” Ron said earnestly. Harry pressed his lips together, not wanting to hurt Ron’s feelings by letting it slip that he’d be more than relieved to get away from Ron’s clucking. He knew his friend meant well. “I think having George’s back for a while is a good thing, Ron. I’ll be fine, and you’ll still see me every day when we’re home,” he said seriously. “Right,” Ron said, relief clearly etched in his freckly face. “It’s not like we’ll never see each other anymore.” “That’ll never happen. What did Hermione say?” Harry asked curiously. Ron gulped. “I haven’t told her yet. She’s going to be shocked. She knows how driven I was to become an Auror.” Harry fought to control his smile. “She might surprise you. She’s rather clever, you know.” “You think?” Ron asked, rolling his eyes. “You really think she might suspect already?” “Have you ever been able to get anything past her? She’s somehow attuned to anything people don’t want to talk about,” Harry said, grumbling a bit. “Yeah, but you never want to talk about anything, so that’s not a fair assessment,” Ron said. “I’ll talk to her about it tonight. What do you think George will say?” Harry’s eyes widened. “You haven’t talked to George about this yet?” “Talked to me about what?” George asked, reentering the kitchen with several bottles of wine. “What d’you think about me leaving the Ministry and coming to work with you full-time?” Ron asked. George froze, staring back and forth between the other two as if waiting for the punchline of a joke. “You’re serious?” he asked weakly. “Well, yeah. We’ve been doing all right during this whole quarantine, haven’t we? And you said you need some help.” Ron said, looking nervous again. “But what about being an Auror?” George asked. “I thought that had been your life’s dream.” “Yeah, but… well, I’ve done that now, haven’t I? Harry’s going to carry on, but I thought I’d try my hand at business. If you don’t want me, that’s fine. I don’t have to,” Ron said, his ears growing alarmingly red once again. “I do want you,” George said quickly. “I mean, I need the help, and you have proven surprisingly useful. Plus, it’ll definitely get me back on Angie’s good side.” “Oh, yeah, and it’s all about you getting a leg over,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “Everything is about getting a leg over, little bro. I thought I taught you better than that,” George said slyly. “Seriously, though, I think this’ll be great. I think Fred would’ve approved too, and that’s the highest praise I can give.” The two brothers beamed at one another, slapping each other on the back enthusiastically. It was at this moment that Ginny and Hermione appeared at the bottom of the kitchen stairs. Harry’s eyes automatically looked at Ginny’s finger, which still appeared bare due to her Concealment Charm. “Ginny,” he said, feeling winded. She was across the kitchen in three strides, leaping into his open arms and wrapping her legs around him. “Cleared. Finally,” she said, glowing. Harry spun her in a circle, feeling rather giddy himself. “Oh, thank Merlin. I was beginning to think they’d never let you out.” “Do I smell macaroni and cheese?” she asked, following the scent to where it sat on the countertop. “Oh, the gooey one. That’s my favorite.” “Of course, it is. Nothing but the best for my girl,” Harry said happily, leading over to a stool where Ron and George were already seated. Hermione joined them at the end, and Ron began pouring the wine. “This calls for a toast since we’re all finally healthy,” he said. Harry noticed Ginny casually point her wand at her finger beneath the counter, reversing her Concealment Charm. He took the stool next to her, reaching for the hidden hand. His stomach lurched as he felt the ring there. His ring. On her hand. They were getting married. He couldn’t mask his joy even if he’d tried. Fortunately, the others all took his jubilant smile at happiness on Ginny’s release. Hermione scooped some of the dinner onto everyone’s plates, while Ron raised his wineglass in salute. They all joined him in raising their glasses. “To my best sister,” he began. “I’m your only sister,” Ginny interrupted. Ron glowered for a moment and returned to this speech. “To my best and most irritating sister, it’s wonderful to have you back. We’re all happy you didn’t die.” “I’m fairly happy about that, too,” Ginny quipped, rolling her eyes. George clinked his glass with hers. “We’re all really happy about that, Ginny. We’ve missed your acerbic humor more than you know. We do love you, despite doing our best not to show it.” Before Ginny could respond, Hermione squealed, dropping her wine glass which spilled everywhere. She reached across the counter, grabbing Ginny’s hand that still held her own wine glass. Hermione tilted Ginny’s hand to the side, spilling her wine, too. “Hermione! What’s gotten into you?” Ron asked, aghast. He used his wand to siphon up the spilled wine from the counter. “When did this happen?” Hermione gasped. It was then the two Weasleys brothers noticed the glittering diamond ring on their sister’s finger. Ron stared at it, gob-smacked. “Harry, you sly dog. Finally worked out how to officially become part of the Weasley clan, have you? Can’t say as I blame you. There’s no other family that’s near as good,” George said, clapping Harry on the back and leaning over to kiss his sister’s cheek. “This ring is gorgeous. When did you get it, Harry? When did you give it to her? I thought there was something funny upstairs the way you grabbed your hand, but I would’ve noticed this,” Hermione said accusingly, Ginny’s hand still clutched in her own. “I had it under a Concealment Charm for a few days,” Ginny said, grinning widely. “It was something to look forward to while I waited to get out of there.” “You’re getting married,” Ron said at last, staring at both of them, dumbfounded. “To each other?” Ginny rolled her eyes. “No, Ron, I thought I’d marry Zeus, and Harry’s going to ask Vivian Scott. Of course, to each other, you dolt.” “Oh, we need more wine for this. Ron, d’you know what this means? It means we’re relieved of all future Ginny responsibilities, as they’re Harry’s now, and we get him for a brother. It’s a win-win for us,” George said, delighted. “What d’you mean by Ginny responsibilities? Neither of you two louts has any responsibility for me. I’m a grown witch of legal age, and I’m responsible for myself, I’ll have you know,” Ginny said, yanking her hand out from Hermione’s grasp and pulling out her wand. The other four all jumped from their stools and stepped back from the counter, watching her wand warily. “Now, now, Ginny. Don’t over-exert yourself after just getting out of hospital. We’re your funny brothers, remember? All for a good laugh,” George said placating. “You’re more funny-looking than amusing,” Ginny said, scowling. Harry grinned, entertained by seeing Ginny intimidate and harass her much larger brothers. He really didn’t think anything could dampen his mood this night. “Ginny,” he said quietly, unable to keep a straight face. “Let’s eat and celebrate first. You can always hex them later.” Ginny pursed her lips, looking him over. Finally, she shrugged and said, “All right. I am starving. The smell has been driving me mad all day.” And with that, she and Harry sat back down and resumed their dinner, leaving the other three on their feet, gaping at them. Hermione recovered first, taking her own stool and saying, “So, who else knows about this, and what have you decided?” “No one else knows yet, and I want to be the one who gets to tell,” Ginny said firmly, again glaring at her brothers. “Or, I at least want to tell the rest of the family.” “That should be your right,” Harry said, backing her up. “You should probably Floo call your parents after dinner, anyway, just to let them know you’ve been released. They’ll feel better seeing how good you look.” Ginny beamed at him as George made retching sounds. Hermione leaned around Ron and swatted George on the head. “Er, Ron… are you all right?” Harry asked, finally noticing that Ron was still sitting motionless and looking rather thunderstruck. His dinner plate remained full and untouched. Ron slowly raised his eyes to meet Harry’s. “You’re going to marry her, and you’ll look after her.” It was a statement, not a question. Harry nodded solemnly. Ron then turned to Ginny. “And you’ll look after him.” Ginny nodded as well, her lips twitching slightly. A slow but wide smile bloomed across Ron’s face. “Excellent. This is really excellent.” He quickly refilled both Ginny and Hermione’s wine glasses, then raised his own in the air. “A toast — to our extended Weasley family. Welcome, Harry. It’s about time.” “Here, here,” George called as they all toasted. It had been some time since there was so much happiness and joy within the walls of Grimmauld Place, and they all felt due. |
| Reviews 210 |
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