MetaFic

Scene 20.1

1 Jul 1992

Harry wished Aoife had stayed rather than Darius, but the three of them had privately agreed that she was the best one to explain “not so recent developments” to Seamus and Caitlin.  Harry was very, very glad he was not going to have to explain it to Cat, but at the same time, he wished there were some way he could cushion the blow.  Aoife had talked to him about her daughter’s mild obsession and terminal infatuation with him, calling it a first-crush that would pass after a year or two.  Considering it had only really become as pronounced as it had a few months before he left for Hogwarts, he thought it would have been much kinder to not tell her until her feelings had died on their own.  Unfortunately, the nature of his “relationship” to one Ginny Weasley was unlikely to remain a secret for long, no matter what they did.

“You both know that many arranged marriages blossom into a deep and abiding love,” Mrs Weasley said as she held Ginny’s hand while simultaneously stroking her daughter’s hair.  “At the same time, many marriages that people choose for themselves turn into a struggle to remain happy, let alone in love.  Marriages and friendships take hard work, honesty, and compassion.  We truly regret taking away your ability to choose freely, but we honestly believe you two will be able to have the same love that we do – and that your parents did, Harry.”

While Harry appreciated the sentiment, he rather wished Mrs Weasley would just be quiet.  Her husband had left to “arrange Harry’s room appropriately.”  It was a bit of a surprise that he would be living in a house with a wife – as crazy as that concept sounded in and of itself – but given that they had been married for nearly ten years, apparently, perhaps it should not be quite the surprise it was.

“Harry?” Darius asked after it became apparent that Mrs Weasley was finished speaking for the moment.  “I think I need to walk about for a bit.  With the Fosterage ending, those cattle will be coming back, and I’d like to see where they’ll be.  Do you want to come with me?”

It was the perfect excuse to escape the encroaching claustrophobia.  Harry nodded slightly and stood.  “Please excuse us,” Harry murmured as he made a beeline for a door that opened to the back garden.  He heard Darius speaking softly, but he wanted to be outside so badly that he kept going until he stood in a patch of hot sunshine well away from the house.  There, he stood still and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Darius said, and Harry felt a hand squeeze his shoulder gently but firmly.  “We had no idea, though it does make a strange sort of sense now.  Honestly, more than ever I’d like to see Aoife turn that bloody Aunt of yours into a newt and toss her in a viper’s pit.”

Harry kept his eyes closed but nodded his acceptance.  He wondered how long everyone would be giving him their condolences, or whatever other reaction might come. 

“Is there anything you want to ask me?  Anything you want me to do?”

Harry shook his head, knowing that he mostly just wanted a bit of solitude to let the turmoil he felt settle.  He had no idea what he should be feeling or thinking, but numb and indifferent seemed inappropriate somehow.  His thoughts were skittering, but his emotions were essentially frozen.

“All right.  I’m going to walk to their paddock and see about the enclosure the cattle will need.  I only want to say one thing in passing.  As much of a shock this has been for you, it’s been the same for young Ginny.  If you get angry or frustrated, come to me to yell, don’t take it out on her or her family.  You’re under no obligation or expectation to act as anything other than the kind young man you are.  And while it’s up to you, I suggest you become friends with her first.  You’re only about to turn twelve, and she’s about to turn eleven . . . the rest will come when it comes.”

Harry nodded, acknowledging that he had heard even if he had not fully understood.  He suspected he might have already upset Ginny at least once with his questions, but he was unable to change anything about that.  He had no idea how long he had been standing there, letting the sun try to warm his frozen mind, before he heard the back door and footsteps.

“Harry?” Mr Weasley’s voice was extremely tentative, and Harry could understand why.  Keeping his eyes closed, he only nodded at the vague query.  “I’d rather get all the scary parts over with in one go, so with your consent, I want to tell you one more thing before Molly and I talk to our boys and explain everything to them.” 

Again Harry nodded, trying to find the warmth that the sun was simply incapable of providing.  His stomach was slowly roiling, and he feared he was going to lose what food he had eaten if too much more came at him. 

“The other reason we wanted to tell you both about this before mid-July of this year stems from the Hogwarts Registry.  While we’ve kept the secret of your marriage, and everyone in both families will continue to do so, we simply don’t know if Ginny’s letter will come to Ginny Weasley or Ginny Potter.  If it’s the latter, well, I suspect the papers will have a field day when they find out.  The attendance rolls are part of the public record.”

“Right,” Harry croaked, thinking of what that might mean.  “You can’t just check?”

“I suppose we could, but we’d have to explain why we’re asking, and that would defeat the purpose of the secret.”

“Okay,” Harry said finally. 

“Molly and I will be inside, then.  Come in when you’re ready.” 

Harry heard Mr Weasley turn and return inside, but he just continued to let the sun wash over him.  Maybe someday he would feel warm again.  When the next voice came, Harry turned to see Ginny standing next to him, her eyes slightly red.

“Harry?” she asked again.

“I’m sorry,” he replied after a moment.  “You startled me.  I guess I should also, uh, apologise if I upset you earlier.  You know . . . with those questions.  I just wanted . . . needed . . . to understand . . . well, whether or not we had any room for changes.”

Ginny nodded slowly, before turning to look out across the field where Darius was walking the fence line. “I kind of had the same question,” she said in a small voice.  “You didn’t upset me, truly.”

Harry sighed, thinking about what they had just been told and what Darius had said in particular.  Taking a deep breath, Harry turned his whole body to face the redhead next to him.  “Hi,” he said with as much false bravado as he could, “I’m Harry Potter.  It’s nice to meet you, Genny.”  Harry thrust his hand out and held it there as she flinched slightly.

Her lips curled into a weak smile, though her eyes seem to accept the gauntlet he had thrown.  She took his hand, shook it once firmly, and said, “It’s nice to meet you, too, Harry.  Shall I show you around?”

The very audible sound of multiple cursing males carried through the walls of the house and across the garden rather impressively.  Ginny’s lips twitched a little further towards a smile, though Harry could only imagine what her multitude of brothers might be thinking.  Harry let go of her hand and tried not to grimace. 

“Could we start out here?”