MetaFic

Scene 20.0.0

1 Jul 1992

Harry stood a bit impatiently, waiting for his Aoife-mum to return from taking Darius to their ultimate destination.  Despite her assurances that everything would turn out okay, Harry’s efforts to remain aloof and calm about the “Big Change” - as Seamus called it - were starting to take their toll.  On the one hand, he was glad that Seamus and Cat had been banished outside while Aoife got everything rolling, but on the other hand, he could really use a distraction right now. He could hardly imagine that his favorite place to live and his near-brother were about to be set aside so he could be transplanted to a new family and a new non-home abode to occupy. 

With a soft crack, Aoife stood in front of him again, and he could see her own anxiety etched on her face.  She said nothing for a time, and then she enveloped Harry in a crushing hug.

“We love you, Harry, we truly do.  I wish you could stay here, but . . .”  Harry heard her sniffle and tried to squeeze her back as much as she was squeezing him.  “I want to warn you, you already know this family.  You just don’t realise it yet.”

“Okay,” Harry mumbled into her shoulder.  She kept holding him, and he was surprised to find some of his tension and anxiety draining away.  There was something warm and comforting about being held so tightly by someone he loved so much, and eventually he felt prepared for what was coming.  Relaxing his arms, he said, “Thanks.  I really needed that.”

She released him as well, stepping back and wiping tears from her face with one hand and giving him a tremulous smile.  “Anytime, Harry, and I do mean anytime.  This house will always be open to you, and you’ll always be a part of us.”

“I guess we need to go, then,” Harry said after a moment.  “I already know them?”

“Yes,” Aoife said, her smile a little more genuine.  “You do.  I think if you give yourself half a chance, you’ll have as much opportunity for mischief there as you do here – maybe even more.”

Before he could fully ponder that statement and its rather dangerous implications, she had his arm firmly in her grip and the dark, constricting sensation of side-along Apparition took them in a breathless, infinite blink to a cosy family room.  Three people were standing in front of Darius, who was looking rather uncomfortable and out of place in such a blatantly magical home.  Everything in the room screamed Magic!Magic!Magic! as little figures chased each other across the mantle, the wizarding wireless danced nimbly in time to the music playing, and the candelabra floated about the ceiling in random orbits.  He could hear shouts and laughter outside, and he fleetingly noted the wide open country vista through the windows.

The familiar strangers truly focused his attention, however.  In front of Darius stood the heads of the Weasley clan with their daughter sandwiched between them.  Harry had to search for a moment to remember their names, but he thought they might be Arthur, Melissa, and Penny.  Ron was nowhere in sight.

When Aoife released his arm, Harry realised that she had been holding on so tight that he had lost some circulation.  The slight tingling of restored nerves and blood helped him focus on what should happen next.  “Err, hello,” Harry said, hoping for a calm and polite greeting.  He winced internally a bit as his voice cracked.  “It’s nice to meet you again.  I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until Seamus and I came to visit Ron later in August, though.” 

Harry tried to smile, but he suspected it was rather weak.  Mr and Mrs Weasley likewise smiled faintly at his effort at humour, though their daughter looked a bit puzzled.

“Hello again, Harry,” Mr Weasley said, reaching out to shake hands.  “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Arthur, this is my wife Molly, and this is our youngest, Ginny.” After Harry shook his hand and tried to make a note of their actual names, Mrs Weasley hesitated between a hug and a handshake before she settled on a handshake as well.  Their daughter offered a slight wave and smile, saying only, “Hi, Harry.”

“Well,” Aoife said into the silence that followed the somewhat stilted greeting, “should we start, or . . .?”

“Probably,” Mr Weasley said, gesturing to the four chairs and two large sofas in the room.  “Please, make yourself at ho-, err, comfortable.”

Harry winced slightly at the obvious word change, but he let it slide. Based on how things had been explained to him before, he was almost certain that the game of what he could and could not call ‘home’ was going to continue until he was an adult in the eyes of the magical world.

“I suppose,” Mrs Weasley said once everyone was seated, “that I should start this explanation.  I was the one contacted first, after all, and then Arthur and I had to decide what to do about . . . well, everything.  Is that all right with you?” she said, looking amongst the adults.

“Err,” Harry interjected briefly.  “Not to make anyone upset, but do you mind my asking why, ah, Jenny is here?”

“Ginny,” the girl said promptly.  “With a ‘G.’  Why am I here, Mum?”

The fact that she knew as little as he did was somehow not encouraging.  Harry noticed that Aoife and Darius also appeared just as curious as he was, while Mr and Mrs Weasley suddenly looked very uncomfortable. 

“Well, the short answer is that you’re rather centrally involved in what happened, Ginny.”  Mrs Weasley paused to look at her daughter for a long moment before looking back at Harry.  “We need to explain everything to her as well, Harry.  If you’d be more comfortable with us talking only to you at first, we can talk to Ginny later.  But if you’re willing, we think it would be easier to explain it to you both together, since you’re likely to have similar questions.”

Harry thought about it for a moment but could think of no reason why she might be involved.  That said, he knew life – particularly his life – tended to defy logic at times, so he simply shrugged.  “I’m all right with it if it’s okay with Genny.  She might want to hear it without my being around.”

Their daughter blushed lightly under the scrutiny of everyone in the room, but she shrugged as well.  “It’s okay, Mum.  I don’t know why you want me here, but I’ll try to be patient.”