Based on the Harry Potter Series By J. K. Rowling
Chapter 46 “ The Giftie (The Gift)
Please Read & Review, it makes for better stories! Thank you.
Oh, that God would give the gift to us
To see ourselves as others see us
It would save us from many blunders and foolish notions
We would change the way we look and gesture
And to how and what we apply our time and attention.*
*From: To a Louse, by: Robert Burns c.1785
“Harry?” Remus asked quietly. Most of those who had been in the kitchen through the incredible story had now wondered off, not a few of then in a near state of shock. Only the Lupin’s, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and George remained.
“Er, yeah, Remus, what’s up?”
“Harry, we have something to do, and we should probably do it right away.”
“What’s that, Remus?” Ginny asked for Harry.
“Scrimgeour, we have to take care of him before he realized that medallion is useless.”
“No, Remus, that won’t be necessary,” Hermione said. “We, that is, Patty and I, found out what that medallion was about. And Galen’s comments confirmed it.” Hermione looked for Patty, but she had left with Fred a minute before.
“Well, Hermione?” Ron asked impatiently, “Are you going to tell us?”
“There’s no rush, Ron. Patty believes Scrimgeour is dead.” Hermione told him in a very matter-of-fact tone. “Those books your mother had us reading yesterday, Aurors in British History, she found a reference to someone who could only be Rufus Scrimgeour. He did Ministry work in Romania between 1713 and 1733. In ‘33, on his way home to England, he contracted the infection and became a Vampire; it really isn’t too amazing, most Vampires came from the Balkans. But the story caught my attention when it described what happened with this man.”
Hermione went into the parlor and brought back the volume she had read the previous night. “Listen to what it says.”
“A tall Auror, infected by the vampire, remained alive, and part human, only by the magic around his neck - the sandy stone with the hourglass. He nearly killed the physician who had tried to remove it...”
“I suppose it could be a coincidence, but there’s an easy way to find out. Harry, would you please call that man you know at Downing Street?”
Harry started to protest because of the hour, it was past eleven, but seeing Hermione’s determination he shrugged and dialed the mobile phone, and then handed it to her. The voice at the other end of the phone was nearly hysterical.
“Harry! What is going on? This place is going crazy. The Prime Minister was taken to the hospital...”
“Mr. Benton? MR. BENTON! This isn’t Harry, but he’s right here. My name is Hermione Weasley...Yes, she’s my sister-in-law. Where is Scrimgeour? Really? Really? Oh, my. Yes, that would be a shock. How are you holding up? I’m glad to hear that, sir. Yes, everything will be fine shortly. Shall I have Harry call you back later? Well, you have our number if you want to contact us. Thank you, Mr. Benton.”
Disconnecting the phone, Hermione giggled and asked, “Harry, how do you run into people like this all the time?”
“Believe me, Hermione, it’s a gift,” Ginny answered dryly.
Harry smiled and turned back to Hermione’s question. “Why? What did he say?”
“Well, it seems that about the time Galen appeared here, ten-fifteen or so, Scrimgeour just keeled over and turned into dust. I, uh, we thought that might happen; Patty and I, that is. When we read about the medallion we were pretty sure it had to something to do with the control of time.”
Remus asked Hermione, as if he did not believe what she had just said. “Scrimgeour’s dead? Are you sure?”
“Yes, that’s why Benton was so frantic. He, uh, was right there when it happened. So was the Prime Minister. With the magic of the medallion gone, Scrimgeour lost the only thing keeping him alive and his body experienced two hundred-fifty years of decay. He was probably wearing the medallion when he first became a Vampire, but we’ll probably never know. Anyway, Thompson also collapsed from the effects of the Imperius Curse, and has been taken to the hospital. He should recover in no time.”
“Did anyone mention the children?” Ginny asked.
“Benton said that they are looking for them right now. Oh, and Tiernan Keane is there, also; it seems he’s made friends with Scotland Yard.”
Ginny looked to Harry with a plea in her eyes, and Harry understood her need to help with the search for Rebecca and the twins, but... “Gin, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” The disappointment in Ginny’s eyes broke Harry’s heart, but he had a good reason for his response.
“Even with Tiernan there, I can’t believe the guards would be particularly happy to have a witch around just now. Their boss was just taken to the hospital and they may not know it’s just a reaction to the curse.” Harry said this as gently as he could, but it still stung Ginny.
“Gin, Harry’s correct. Let’s give it a little while and see if Jeff calls back, ok?”
“Yeah, ok, Hermione. I’m going to lie down upstairs for a while.” Ginny stood and walked to the stairs. When Harry tried to follow her she turned and told him she wanted to be alone. Harry stood there, awkwardly, for a few seconds and then returned to the table.
“Harry, want me to talk to Ginny?” Tonks asked, reaching across the table, taking his hand.
“No thanks, Tonks. If I know Ginny she’s probably already Apparated to Downing Street.” Harry said, with a rueful laugh. “No, just kidding you guys. But there is somewhere I have to go. Ron, Hermione, would you two come with me?”
Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Somehow, they knew what Harry was talking about and that they had to be with him. Standing and joining Harry, Ron asked simply, “Front door or back?”
“Front, I think.”
The grounds of Hogwarts were quiet and still, pitch black with none of the magic induced lighting emanating from the building. Standing in front of Hagrid’s hut, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked knowingly at each other before knocking. Ron was sure he saw a tear in Harry’s eye. And why not? Magic’s been a blessing… and a curse.
Harry knocked on the massive door, thinking back to many a time over the past eight year when Hagrid would greet them with huge smiles and bone-crunching hugs. When no one answered, Harry heard Hermione trying to hold back a sob, with little success. Harry thought he was prepared for this, but the bottom just kept dropping out of his stomach.
With even more hesitation, Harry knocked again, this time using the heavy iron knocker almost out of his reach. Again, no answer. Hermione collapsed down on her knees and made no effort to hide her misery. Ron was next to her, with a tear running down his cheek, one hand on the top of his wife’s head. Harry just stood there, head bowed down, right hand flat against the rough wood.
The familiar growl of Fang was the only sound.
“Oh, Ron, poor Fang must be locked in there with...with...” But Hermione couldn’t say it. Joining his wife on the ground, Ron held Hermione as she started crying again.
“WHAT THE BLOODY ‘ELL...? ‘arry? ‘ermione? Ron? What‘re you three doin’ out ‘ere this late?” The unmistakable voice of Rubeus Hagrid came out of the crack that had just appeared in the door.
“HAGRID! All three cried out, jumping towards the door. In their enthusiasm they pushed the door open, throwing Hagrid back and onto his table while Ron, Harry, and Hermione ended up in a pile on the Floor. Ron made a rude comment to Harry about where his wand had just been stuck.
Harry heard Hagrid cursing, apparently looking for a lantern to light. In the shaking glow of the light coming from the fireplace he saw that something wasn’t quite right. As Hagrid lit the oil lamp, the change became obvious.
“Hagrid?” Ron muttered, still trying to pick himself off of Harry.
“Who are you?” Hermione asked, suspicion thick in her voice; her hand was reaching for her wand, too.
Harry pushed Ron the rest of the way off of him and spring up, walking over to the man in front of them. Harry was looking him directly in the eyes. He knew those eyes, definitely Hagrid’s.
“Uh, yeah, sorry you three. I guess this ‘ere’s a bit of a shock to yer.” Hagrid “ he was unmistakably Hagrid “ laughed and hopped up onto one of his enormous chairs. “Just ‘appened Monday, didn’t ‘ave no time to let yer know.”
Harry knew what he was about to do was rude, but he didn’t care. Putting out his arm, he poked Hagrid’s arm with his index finger. “Hagrid, is that REALLY you?”
“’Course it is, Harry, who else would it be?” Hagrid laughed and slapped his knee, obviously enjoying the Trio’s unease. “Well, Harry, I’d tell yer what ‘appened if I knew. Got any ideas, there, ‘Ermione?”
Harry hoped someone had an explanation. The man before them was not, as Harry noted, the Hagrid he’d known for the past eight years, but he looked, sounded, and acted like him. He had the same eyes, the same graying beard and moustache, the same accent, the same...everything ...but...he was the size of a normal human adult, maybe even a bit on the short side.
“Uh, yeah, Hagrid, I do...I think. I hadn’t really thought of this…” Hermione was looking intensely at their friend and said the only thing that made any sense at all. “Well, I’m guessing that since you are...uh, were, only half-giant, this is your non-giant self. I don’t know, Hagrid, is that possible?”
Ron was looking suspiciously at both Hermione and Hagrid, now.
“I don’t know, Hermione, but as far as I’m concerned, that’s our Hagrid!” Harry suddenly jumped forward and hugged his old friend, Hermione joined him a moment later. Ron hesitated, but then saw Hagrid smile and he knew Harry and Hermione were not wrong. Joining the group hug, the four laughed and cried together until Harry remembered Ginny.
“Holy cow, you guys! Hang on, Hagrid, I’ll be right back.”
Harry ran out front and Apparated back to the Burrow. Not a minute later, two distinct “pops” were heard and Harry led a very droopy-eyed Ginny into the Hut. By her reaction, Harry had obviously told Ginny what to expect.
“HAGRID!” Ginny yelled out of pure joy and threw herself at him.
Ron, Hermione, and Harry watched Ginny cling to Hagrid, crying, laughing “ even giving him a kiss on the cheek causing him to blush.
The day was ending much happier than it had started.
Thursday morning brought the news to the Muggle world that something had happened in 10 Downing Street over the past 36 hours. The Prime Minister had been released from St. Thomas Hospital a few hours after being admitted. (Actually, he had walked out on his own, against the doctor’s orders, to join his wife in the search for their children.) Thompson’s secretary, Jeffery Benton, looking very tired and very haggard, held a brief news conference early that morning saying simply that the Prime Minister was reconsidering the legislation he had proposed in light of unnamed developments. Benton left the conference knowing that the statement he had made would probably result in Thompson’s resignation. Thompson knew that also when he told Benton to deliver it.
The Thompson twins and Rebecca were found, safe, at about the same time Benton was holding the news conference. Three investigators from Scotland Yard, accompanied by Tiernan Keane, found them at Scrimgeour’s old office in the Ministry of Magic building. They were tired, sore, hungry, and thirsty, but otherwise unharmed. By mid-morning, the family had been reunited at Downing Street.
Thursday afternoon found the Weasley family and many of their local friends gathered around the coffin containing Percy Weasley’s remains. Standing around Bill and Charley’s graves, looking at the hole in the ground awaiting its newest addition, Molly and Arthur held each other as the rest of their family were holding them. The ceremony at the burial site was short and very different from the ones held months earlier for the first two Weasley men.
With the revelations about Merlin, and his role in history, Molly and Arthur asked Tom and Jeannie Granger to plan a brief service based more along the lines of a tradition Christian ceremony. When Molly told Hermione about this she detected some unease. Sitting down with her daughter-in-law, Molly shared with Hermione something that needed to be cleared up.
“Hermione, what your parents did when they found out you had been pregnant was terrible, but you also need to know something else about them.” Searching for the right words, setting aside her own grief, and trying to help Hermione understand the type of people her parent were, Molly shared a story.
“Dear, please remember that being a parent doesn’t make a person perfect. In fact, sometimes it brings out their bad side. Your parents do love you, but they show it in a way that you may not understand. I received a letter from Jeannie every week between September and January asking about you, and every week it broke my heart that your parents would not go to you, or write to you. But they do care, Hermione, in their way. I promised your parents that I wouldn’t tell you this, but I think this may help you understand them a bit better. Hermione, you parents paid for your wedding, every cent of it, and your honeymoon. Arthur was furious, but your parents absolutely insisted.”
Hermione showed less shock than Molly expected, but the tears told her that Hermione did understand what she was being told.
“It’s difficult, sometimes, for people to change, especially adults who have lived one way their entire life. People show love in different ways, and it’s not always the way another person understands. From the stories I’ve heard, your love for Ron began quite the opposite of what most people would call ‘affectionate’.”
Hermione snorted and let out a laugh between her sobs. Reaching across the space between the chairs that separated them, Molly pulled Hermione to her feet and embraced her, letting her daughter know that all would work out.
As Tom Granger closed the grave-side ceremony, Ginny felt a hand slip into hers. She held it tightly while she prayed the last goodbyes to her three dead brothers.
When finished, Ginny realized that she was not holding Harry’s hand. Looking to her right, and slightly behind herself, she saw the hand within her own was that of Rudy Keane; he was crossing himself, as Catholic’s do, while tears ran down his cheeks. Behind Rudy stood his family, all with tears in their eyes, and Harry, back there also, smiling a gentle understanding smile. Ginny pulled the short Irish boy into a hug and kissed the top of his head. Too choked up to speak, Rudy did manage to utter the one word that would heal Ginny’s heart aches more than any other: “Sis.”
Friday morning found Harry sleeping on the Floor in Ginny’s room in an old, smoke-scented sleeping bag the Fairling’s had let Arthur borrow. On the Floor next to Harry was Rudy, snoring louder than Harry thought possible, louder even than Ron.
Friends and relatives were arriving for short visits, but more often for an overnight stay. Muggle friends or public transportation were bringing the crowds to Ottery St. Catchpole where they hired cabs or even walked the four miles to the Burrow. In spite of the inconveniences most people would find with the circumstances, Molly was delighted. Some of the company stayed with them, as did Rudy, some with the Fairling’s, and the Granger’s even put a few up at a local hotel and played taxi.
Cooking, cleaning, planning, and talking with so many people took Molly’s mind off of their losses. At one point, it even reminded her of Ginny’s seventeenth birthday party five months earlier. Hearing of moderate weather over the weekend, Molly insisted that everyone stay a couple more days and they would have a grand party on the fields.
Arthur, Gerry, Tom, and George went off to find tables, chairs, and canopies. Patty, Jeannie, and Deborah went shopping for more food than they ever had before. Everyone was pitching in as a family and that was exactly the antidote the Weasley’s needed.
Ginny had insisted that the Keane’s stay, and when Molly and Arthur met them they refused to take no for an answer. Devon was not far from Bath, so Liam placed a couple calls to his office and rented a room at the same hotel as the Grangers and other guests. Unaccustomed to large crowds in the ‘off season,’ the hotel went out of their way to meet everyone’s needs and the entire weekend became a delightful holiday in spite of the somber circumstances.
At eight that Friday morning, Harry’s mobile phone rang, waking him and Ginny. Rudy, obviously a heavy sleeper, snored so loudly Harry had to get up and go into Ginny’s closet to hear who was on the phone. Returning a few minutes later, Harry climbed into bed with Ginny and snuggled up to her trying to warm his hands and feet.
“Ahh! Harry, you’re FREEZING, you prat!” she protested, but not too harshly.
“Mmm, you know, Gin, I could get used to this. It’s too bad you have to work today.” Harry said, an evil grin was spreading across his face.
That got Ginny’s complete attention. “What?”
“Oh, yeah, that was Mary Thompson, she says she expects you there by nine o’clock sharp, or she’ll dock your pay,” Harry continued, smiling.
“Oh, God, Harry. How can she expect me to...” Swinging her feet out of bed, Harry helped her get up with a friendly push on her behind. “...get back to work this week? And what are you smiling about?”
“Well, I was just thinking, er, would please hand me my wand?” Ginny reluctantly got Harry’s wand from her dresser and handed it to him. Harry sat up and cast a silencing charm on Rudy’s half of the room. Placing the wand on Ginny’s night stand, Harry rolled over and went back to sleep muttering something like, “Thanks for warming the bed...”
Just you wait, Harry, just you wait!
Dragging herself around the room, gathering clean clothes, and other odds and ends she needed, Ginny retired to the loo for a shower. Forty minutes later, dressed, fed (somewhat) and still amazed that Mary Thompson was expecting her, Ginny Apparated to the staff entrance and headed to the desk to sign in.
Every person she passed looked at her, but she could not quite read their thoughts; not hostile, more curious. Walking through the front hall and past the parlor, Ginny saw Jeff Benton gesture to her. Waving in return, Ginny noticed that the man looked like he had aged since she last saw him Monday.
“Ms. Weasley, we missed out lunch date. How about today?” Jeff asked casually.
“Oh, uh, sure. Shall I come by at noon?” Seeing Benton acknowledge her suggestion with a nod, Ginny headed up the stairs to the private residence.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Ginny heard Mary Thompson call out, “We’re in the family room, Ginny.”
Ginny hesitated for a moment; her last trip to that room had been so horrible she was beginning to feel the signs of panic. Forcing her footsteps, she actually walked into the room with her eyes closed.
“Ginny, what are you doing, for heaven sake?” Brian’s voice was so calming and personable, Ginny felt foolish for her action. Opening her eyes, the sight greeting her was amazing. The room had been filled with flowers from well wishers around the country and the world. They smelled heavenly.
Brian and Mary Thompson were sitting in the same spot she last saw them, under the Imperius Curse. There was, however, not false identity about them any longer. The twins were sitting across from their parents on the love seat and Rebecca was in the chair Ginny had sat waiting for her death. It was eerie, but the hominess of the setting quickly calmed her. There were a few other adults in the room also, but none Ginny recognized; one carried what looked like professional Muggle photographic equipment.
“Ginny, we know you’re mourning, we’re terribly sorry about your brother,” Brian started.
Lowering her head, Ginny tried to stop the tears from building in her eyes.
“Ginny,” Mary said softly, “we thought this might cheer you up some.”
Ginny looked up to see Mary addressing her daughter. “Rebecca, would you show Ginny?”
Rebecca looked like she couldn’t have stayed seated another second anyway. Jumping up, she ran to Ginny who had lowered herself onto one knee to be at the child’s level.
“Hi Ginny, see how I can talk now?” Rebecca’s face was beaming.
Ginny fell flat on her backside. “Becca? Mary? How?” Stunned, Ginny looked at Mary and Brian and saw the parents weeping and smiling, nodding their heads. Ginny could not believe what she was seeing or hearing. Somehow, someway, Rebecca had begun to change, at least to point where her motor and speech skills were far above where she was Monday.
Then Brian, followed by his wife, laughing through their tears, did something extraordinary for a head of state . They sat on the Floor with their daughter and Ginny, calling the twins over. The family had a look in their face like nothing Ginny had ever seen, anywhere.
“Ginny, you did this for Becca,” Mary said, using Ginny’s nickname for her daughter.
“Mary and I saw it begin Monday night. We were expecting you to notice the change immediately, but that wasn’t very realistic, was it?”
Ginny was still in shock. I did this for Becca?
Reading Ginny’s eyes, Mary confirmed her husband’s comment. “Yes, Ginny, you, or God, or both of you. With no disrespect to the Man upstairs, I believe this IS what you were trying to achieve, isn’t it?”
Ginny just nodded her head.
Rebecca turned back to Ginny. “You’re acting silly!”
Wrapping her arms around Rebecca, Ginny sat and cried and laughed and held the child while Brian and Mary looked on in awe. In the background, Ginny was faintly aware of a man taking pictures and three others talking amongst themselves. It did not bother her; nothing bothered her. Ginny was, at that moment, happier than she had ever been in her life.
Mary had no intention of keeping Ginny there all day, but she did want to introduce her to the others in the room. Through a face of streaked mascara, Mary presented Ginny to three of the top physicians in the country. It was just a brief introduction, Brian assured her. The two men and one woman expressed their interest in her abilities. In the few minutes they spoke together, Ginny received assurances that any higher education she wished to pursue in medicine would be a gift to her from the British people.
Ginny thanked them, again stunned, almost speechless at the turn of events. Mary noticed this and reassured her that this is really happening!
Ushering everyone out on the room except Mary and Ginny, Brian held his wife around the waist and told Ginny their final piece of news for the day. “Ginny, I’m resigning, as of next Monday. No, don’t look so stunned. I’m doing it out of choice, not political pressure. Though I’m sure I would have that, too, if I stayed around.”
“Why? You haven’t done anything bad, the people love you!”
“Yes, that may be, but look at it this way. I nearly pushed through legislation that would have put tens of thousands of your people in fear for their lives. When everything about the past few days becomes known, I guarantee you my support will drop to nil.”
To Ginny, the unfathomable world of Muggle politics was horribly unfair, but it was one she would have to get used to, and quickly.
Talking a few more minutes, the Thompson’s assured Ginny that she had a position with them no matter where they or she lived. Mary told her to hang onto the phone she had given Harry, “We will need to contact you.”
Before their final goodbyes, Ginny remembered a message her mother had asked to relay to the Thompson’s just before she left the Burrow. It seemed ridiculous at the time, now it felt perfect. Giving them Molly’s message, Ginny was assured they would do what they could. With that final piece of business concluded Ginny started out the staff entrance.
“Ahem, Ms. Weasley?” Turning, Ginny saw Jeff Benton looking at her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Benton. I forgot about out lunch date. I was, I mean, upstairs...”
“Don’t worry, my dear, I know what happened, and I’m sure you need to return home.”
Walking to Ginny, Benton held out his hand and said his goodbye. “I’ll miss seeing you around here, Ms. Weasley, but I don’t believe I’ll miss the odd people that you seem to attract.”
Smiling, Ginny shook Benton’s hand and left for the Burrow.
Returning home, Ginny found the kitchen a madhouse of people running this way and that. Ron and Hermione’s wedding seemed less hectic to her than this. Her father was in the parlor speaking with a number of men, some in Muggle clothes, and others in wizard robes. Seeing Ginny drifting towards the room, Molly put a hand on her shoulder.
“Ginny, most of those men are from the Ministry of Magic. They want your father to head the Ministry until we get control of everything that happened in our world.”
“Wow!” Ginny exclaimed. “What a day! Oh, mother, I gave the Thompson’s your message. They said they would do what they could.”
Molly gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, thanking her. “Now, how about helping me in the kitchen? We have a lot to do.”
Washing and pealing potatoes, doing dishes, baking pies...the chores went on through dinner but Ginny hardly noticed. She had even forgotten to tell anyone about Rebecca.
Through the kitchen window, Ginny and Molly stopped their chores now and then to watch people play a Muggle game Ron was teaching, something called Rugby. It looked like quidditch, but on the ground. In spite of the fact that someone came in every few minutes with an injury for Molly or Ginny to heal, the game continued.
Rather than participating in the game, Harry sat in the sun reading. Remembering back to the relaxing days of the previous summer, he pretended for a moment that the past five month did not happen. Percy, Kingsley, even Fudge would still be around. The thoughts comforted Harry briefly, but then he recognized them for what they were: fantasies. Shaking himself out of his melancholy, Harry set his book down and watched the people in front of him play. Play - they were playing. How wonderful that word sounded.
Drifting off to sleep for a few minutes, Harry awoke when a breeze sent a dried leaf to settle on his nose. Taking in the view again, Harry smiled as he watched Hermione run out to join the game, and then he witnessed an interesting scene. He could not hear what was being said, but as the incident progressed the story became obvious.
First Hermione went up to Ron, then Ron shook his head, then Hermione said something rude and Ron shook his head again. Hermione then ran to the kitchen where Harry could only see the top of her and Ginny’s head. Ginny’s head disappeared, and then reappeared. Next Hermione ran back to Ron and told him something, Ron shrugged, and then his face lit up and Hermione joined the game.
All this translated in Harry’s head to:
Hermione: I’ll play on your team, Ron.
Ron: No you will not, you might be pregnant.
Hermione: I’m not pregnant, you twit.
Ron: You could be.
Hermione runs into the house and asks Ginny if she is pregnant.
Ginny leans down and senses nothing.
Hermione runs back out to the field.
Hermione: I’m not pregnant, Ron. I’m playing now.
Ron gives in and then realizes they get to keep trying to get pregnant.
Harry smiled and went back to his book. Life was good.
When the games of Rugby broke up mid-afternoon, everyone was dirty, bushed... and happy. George made a point of telling anyone who would listen about how Patty kept tackling Fred, even when he didn’t have the ball. Ron laughed and told George that he did not really know the rules, so it might have been legal.
The ones fortunate enough to have a special friend or spouse there immediately paired up. The Keane children, particularly Rudy, ran around some more then went inside for refreshments.
Fred and Patty hung around together a little but then Fred went off somewhere with George and Patty went to talk with Remus and Tonks.
The sun was beginning to case long shadows by four o’clock and most of the “official” guests that had come by to speak with Arthur had left. The house still bulged but no one cared a wit. Something was always going on or someone was arriving or someone was leaving; whatever the occasion, no one had time, or inclination, to sulk or mourn.
Friday night dinner was provided by the Granger’s. Tom had disappeared with Gerry and Arthur about four-thirty and returned an hour later with the Granger’s car pulling the oddest contraption anyone had seen. It looked like a barrel on wheels. It turns out that that was exactly what it was. Unhooking the bizarre device, Arthur and Tom pulled it around to the back of the house. Ron and Hermione were snogging away behind the house when a small mob of curious onlookers arrived. Harry was among them and noted with a smile that neither cared to stop their activity.
The old fifty-five gallon barrel was cut lengthwise and hinged in the back. As Tom opened it they saw two grates running the length of the barrel, one above the other. Tom removed the top grate and poured a five kilo bag of charcoal on the bottom grate. After dousing the coals with a smelly fluid, he handed Arthur a pack of matches.
“Here you go, Art, start the fire,” Tom said.
Harry thought Mr. Weasley might wet himself with the excitement of the moment. After a few misfires, he managed to ignite the match and set the coals afire. Once the high yellow flames had become a hot blue-white glow on the briquettes, everyone outside gathered around and warmed their hands until Tom returned with a cooler full of steaks and ground beef.
Arthur was beside himself. Tom just laughed and let him do what he wanted. Now and then, Ron would butt in and tried to show his father something. Whenever this happened, Hermione would start laughing until she had to go inside to calm herself. The two ‘boys’ were obviously father-son.
The cookout went far into the evening but for Harry, Ginny, and Hermione, the high point of the meal was when Mr. Weasley went to draw his wand to cut his steak.
“Ahem, dad?”
“Yes, Ron?”
“Dad, I was thinking. Since we’re going to be around Muggles much more, maybe we should eat like them… sir.”
Mr. Weasley had an odd look on his face. Harry was expecting him to give a bit more resistance, but then he asked, “What did you have in mind, Ron?”
Ron held up a steak knife which he had been concealing until this moment. “Try using this, dad.”
Mr. Weasley’s eyes lit up. “Is that one of those resated knives Muggles use?”
Harry could tell Ron was about to burst. He also noticed that Tom Granger was watching from the hallway, tears were streaming down his face from holding back his laughter.
“Well, yeah, it’s called a serrated knife, dad. Want to try it?”
“Sure, Ron.” Taking the knife from his son, Arthur picked up his fork and cut a perfect bite out of the steak. After putting the bite in his mouth, Arthur looked up at Ron and handed him the knife back.
Ron took the knife grumpily from his father and started eating.
When Mr. Weasley finished chewing his bite of steak he set his fork down and pointed out to Ron, “Son, that was a wonderful idea. And I even managed to keep my food on my plate.” Then he smiled and took out a steak knife he had been concealing and went back to his meal.
Certain he was going to show-up his father, Ron had made sure that everyone who was at Hog House five months ago for the Granger’s first steak dinner were in the kitchen that night. Ron succeeded in generating laughter, but once again he was the butt of the joke. Seeing everyone laugh at him, and his father looking at him out of the corner of his eye, Ron gave in and laughed at himself as well.
When dinner was finished, Jeannie brought out a huge Spotted Dick* with fudge topping for desert. Molly was casting nasty glares at Fred and George after they heard about desert; still, the twins sniggered for the next quarter-hour, each time they took a bite. Hermione threatened a particularly nasty male-oriented hex if they made any comment to Patty.
Excellent fireworks, again courtesy of Fred and George, capped the evening. They no longer had their magically enhanced effects, but they were, “Simply beautiful, and beautifully simple,” as their mother said.
As had been done Wednesday night, the younger crowd went for a long walk into the dark woods and fields around the Burrow. Again they traded stories of Percy and Snape, and even a few about Bill, Charley, and Dumbledore. The revelation about Dumbledore’s true identity was still a source of amazement to everyone. At the rear of the parade of friends and family,
Hermione speculated about the type of research and books the story would generate; even Ron agreed it would make interesting reading.
Returning late to the Burrow, Molly sent everyone off to bed, reminding them they would have a busier day Saturday. And she was right.
Saturday: The last day.
Saturday dawned unseasonably warm for January, though still a chilly three degrees at sunrise. Another unusual event was the busy early morning kitchen. Molly was still in her house coat, waking up with her morning tea, when Arthur, Fred, George, Ron, Harry, and Remus came down the stairs together. They all had towels.
“What are you six up to? Oh no, Arthur, not again!” Molly pleaded.
“Yes mother,” George replied for his father, “This time we’re going to do it the American way, in the dead of winter.”
“Come Polar Bears, Gerry and Tom await us at the spring.” Arthur said, hurrying everyone out the back door before Molly protested again.
Sitting back down with her tea, Molly smiled and thanked God for all her blessings... even the slightly odd ones.
Between the conspicuous influx of visitors, and the rumors, and the news reports, and more rumors, and the fireworks Friday evening, the Muggle residents of Ottery St. Catchpole “ particularly the younger ones “ suspected something peculiar was happening in the far outskirts of the town. Perhaps it even had to do with MAGIC! Saturday, always a day for mischief and play, drew a far larger crowd of youngsters out of their houses. Gathering at street corners, parks, playgrounds, schools, and even a couple pubs, a slow moving, slow growing crowd of people began to wander towards the eastern edges of the town as if drawn to distant light in the darkness.
When a few light trucks and a number of cars filled with oddly dressed people were seen traveling down the Eastwich Road, word spread that that must be where “IT” was happening. (Though no one seemed to know exactly what “IT” was.) By ten-thirty Saturday morning, there were over two hundred curious people only a couple miles from the Fairling’s house, and just a bit further from the Weasley’s.
Residents and visitors at the Burrow had no idea what was brewing a few thousand meters to the west. The Polar Bear Club (Devon Chapter) had long since returned to their warm houses to prepare for the day’s activities. Molly was expecting about fifty or so guests, but ninety minutes before noon there were already sixty. Unfazed by the additional guests, Molly simply told one person or another to do this or that and everything would be fine. She could get away with that until three sedans from the British Security Service appeared in the field-turned-parking-lot to notify the Weasley’s of the official guests arriving that afternoon, and of a large crowd of unofficial visitors wandering down the road. Hearing this, Arthur and Harry ran to the front door and saw a faint cloud of dust approaching.
Just about then Molly thought that having Dobby and Winky at the Burrow might be an excellent idea. Calling for Ginny whom she could hear arguing with Ron about something in the parlor, Molly asked her to Apparate into Hogwarts and see if she could round up a couple elves to help. Ginny reminded her mother of something neither had thought about until just then.
“Mum, wouldn’t all the elves be, you know, gone?” Ginny bit her lower lip, anticipating a reaction to the unpleasant news.
With Ginny’s question, a sad look came across Molly’s face, but just for a moment. “Why don’t you and Harry get Hagrid and check out the kitchens over there? But if it might upset you, dear...”
Molly let the statement hang and her daughter understood her message. Calling for Harry, the two Apparated to Hargid’s hut and the three, accompanied by Fang, made their way towards the entrance of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. From there they made their way to the kitchens below. Never having been down into the main food preparation areas, they found the descent long and creepy, but their wands cast enough light to make the journey safe.
As they entered the cavernous preparation room, they noticed nothing but a small light, possibly a candle, flickering fifty meters or so away. As they approached the light they could hear a soft squeaky voice talking to itself, but then they realized who it was.
“Dobby!” Harry called out.
Harry and Ginny saw Dobby and a few other elves poke their heads up, then Donny started jumping up and down crying, “Harry Potter, sir! Miss Weezy. Harry Potter, sir! Miss Weezy.” Running to meet the two humans, Dobby clung to their legs.
“Dobby! You’re ok? Are all the elves ok?” Ginny asked in amazement.
“Yes, Miss Weezy, we is all here. We was so scared we been hiding.”
Dobby proceeded to explain to Harry and Ginny that they had been hiding since Monday evening. No one knew what had happened so they just stayed put. They still had their magic, which was another curiosity, but they were also changed in some way Harry could not understand.
Ginny went about lighting more candles and after a while more elves showed up. They all looked frightened, more than anything, and at a loss for direction. Harry told Dobby to round up all the elves and bring them into the kitchen so he could speak to them. In no time at all, scores of Dobby’s and Winky’s were standing about.
“Er”my name is Harry Potter.” Harry began, not sure how to address more than one elf at a time. As soon as he had introduced himself, all the elves nodded their heads and murmured something he could not understand.
“I think you should all stay here at Hogwarts and make yourself, well, make anything you need until someone can get back here.”
An officious looking elf pushed his way forward; others bowed and let him pass unhindered. “Mr. Potter, I’m Amle, and I’m in charge of everything these elves do at Hogwarts. You can talk to me and I’ll get it done.”
Harry looked at Dobby and saw him cringing, obviously scared of Amle. “Er, thank you, Amle. I think the only thing you need to do is be certain all the elves are cared for.”
Amle sneered at Harry but also bowed. “As you wish, Mr. Potter, as you wish.”
Turning back to the crowd, Amle dispersed them with a snap of the fingers, all except Dobby.
“Harry, I don’t think the elves think much of Amle. Maybe we should…” But Ginny had no idea what to suggest.
“Yeah, Gin, I know. Let’s take care of Dobby first.” Turning back to see the still cowering elf, Harry addressed him again. “Dobby, would you like to bring Winky and a couple more elves back to Miss Weasley’s house, like you did last year? We’re having a big party and Ginny’s mother needs help.”
Dobby immediately jumped up and started shaking Harry’s hand, muttering his thanks with tears rolling down his cheeks. A second later, Dobby snapped his finders and disappeared.
Returning to Hagrid’s hut fifteen minutes later, Harry and Ginny told Hagrid the plans for the day and offered to Apparate him back to the Burrow. It took some talking, Hagrid was self-conscious about his changed appearance, but after he was told about Tonks and the recent changes she had been through, Hagrid admitted that the plans did sound fun. With that settled, the three returned to the Burrow with Hagrid carrying Fang.
While Harry and Ginny were gone, the Flood of towns folk had reached the Fairling’s house, and were traveling the final three hundred meters to the Borrow. Arthur went to the gate marking the border of his property and waited with Fred, George, and Gerry. Two Security Service agents with radios stood out of the line of sight in some shrubbery waiting to see if the situation would run its course peacefully.
Most of the crowd was kids, perhaps ten to sixteen in age, but with a number of older and younger participants, too. They looked quite peaceful, mainly just curious.
“Good morning, how is everyone today?” Arthur asked the front rows of people that had gathered around him at the gate.
There were a few intelligible answers, but mostly the crowd just looked at the four men meeting them. Finally, one boy, about twelve, asked, “Are you guys wizards, and can you do magic?”
Arthur’s response to the question he and Molly had anticipated was unknown to Fred, George, and Gerry. “Yes, we are. At least my two boys and I. You probably know Mr. Fairling here. He isn’t a wizard. Are you here for the picnic?”
This response got the crowd interested. One young adult that Arthur could not see asked what time the picnic started.
“Well, here’s what you should do. We’ll be ready about two this afternoon. You go back home and bring your parents and any brothers and sisters you have, and we will show you what a wizard picnic is like. How does that sound?”
Between the cheering from the younger kids and the howling from the older ones, Arthur got the impression that the idea was favorable to them. When the crowd began dispersing and heading back to town, Gerry complimented Arthur and then asked where he was going to get enough portable toilets.
“Well, Ger, I am a wizard, let’s see what I can do.”
Shortly after noon, Alice, Frank, and Neville Longbottom arrived in a car driven by a man who, they later learned, had offered a ride anywhere as long as he could see “a bunch of wizards doing stuff.” Alice went to the kitchen with Molly, Frank and Neville went out to try Rugby.
Not long after the Longbottom’s got settled, Harry received a most unexpected and somewhat disturbing phone call. Peter Martin’s parents were wondering if their son had ‘shown up at the Weasley’s home.’ Apparently he had disappeared from his house the day before, leaving a note saying he was going to look for Percy Weasley. The only good information Harry could gather was that Peter did know where the Weasley’s lived. Harry assured them that he would keep a look out for Peter and let them know if he showed up.
The afternoon was turning out exactly as the weather reports predicted, partly sunny with a light breeze, and temperatures between 18 and 20c (65-68f.) Gerry Fairling had managed to find another barrel-broiler and got it started, (without any help from Arthur,) for the afternoon meal.
As two o’clock approached, Molly started sending out bowl after bowl of salads, vegetables, and fruit. There were three bean and seven bean salads, potato salad, three types of pasta salads, cucumber salad, green salads, olive salad, 7 Layer Salad, Ambrosia Salad, Apple Salad, Asparagus and Tomato Salad, Citrus Salad, and Five-Layer Pasta Salad. When Tonks had counted fifteen different veggies she knew by name the fruit table beckoned and a further dozen fruits were presented. Canned, cooked, stewed, fresh…they were all there.
The Muggle residents of Ottery St. Catchpole began to arrive at two, many brought their own favorite dishes to add to the feast. Tent after tent, canopy after canopy, table after table were filled with every imaginable food. The sight was almost too much to take in; the normal pot-luck meal might allow someone to taste a little of everything, but not today.
Dobby and Winky showed up with two other elves from Hogwarts; Bailey and TC. They brought piles of paper goods and had a devil of a time avoiding the Muggles. Harry eventually got them together and explained that they no longer needed to hide from Muggles. This may not have had exactly the effect Harry wished for. As soon as the younger Muggle children saw the elves they wanted to touch and hold them, and include them in games. As a result, the elves were not quite as much help as Molly would have liked and Harry had to spend a good part of the afternoon prying them away from the kids.
Hagrid and Fang were entertaining kids of every age. With his stories of the Forbidden Forest, Centaurs, and giant Spiders, he sent the littlest ones screaming for their parents. Fang lay by Hagrid in his perpetual state of slumber. Hagrid laughed until he cried and then started another story. As far as anyone could tell, Hagrid was THE hit of the party. When he mentioned that he was thirsty, a dozen kids would bring him a drink from the drinks table; occasionally an older member of his audience would bring back a pint of ale. When he said he was hungry, the adults had to stop the youngsters from bringing too much food. Some legends, a few not altogether true, were started that day, particularly late in the evening when Hagrid had consumed a fair amount of ale. He sat there through it all; smiling, laughing, crying, jumping, and stamping with each story. He had never been happier in his life.
The town newsmen and women who came out for a story did not know where to start. There were so many unbelievable things happening that much of their afternoon was spent standing in awe. They traveled from Hagrid’s corner to the food tents, to the Burrow itself, to the Rugby fields, and to the partygoers themselves. Sometimes it was hard to tell who was a wizard or witch, other times it was very obvious.
Out on the Rugby fields, Ron had to prohibit Apparating to prevent the scores from becoming absurdly high. A few locals and one semi-pro Rugby player helped Ron get the teams started and clarify the rules. They were concerned about injuries to the smaller kids until Ron told them about his sister and mother’s abilities to heal, then everyone wanted to get hurt to experience Magic Medicine.
A game of football was being held on another field. Fred and Patty monitored that activity, conjuring up goal posts and field lines. Few visitors, if any, lacked an activity in which to participate; and no one lacked for food or drink.
There was a small first-aid tent set up next to the Burrow that Ginny operated along with Molly or George. With the Rugby games going on, a good number of people always seemed in line for first aid. A few times, Ginny and George noticed Muggle physicians observing the spells and techniques they used for tending wounds. Each one left shaking his or her head in amazement.
The afternoon wore on and the festival atmosphere penetrated everywhere, and everyone, and everything. The air around the Burrow was filled with the aroma of grilled beef, pork, and chicken. Tom Granger and Gerry Fairling managed a barrel-grill each and turned out hot dinners as fast as they cooked. When someone wanted chopped steak, Gerry would call for Arthur who would wave his wand artistically and grind the steak into hamburger.
Just before three o’clock, a Royal Marine helicopter circled overhead and alighted on a nearby field. The soon-to-be-Ex-Prime Minister and his family could be seen walking across the east paddock towards the Burrow, escorted by four of the six Security Service agents. Molly and Arthur, alerted to the “surprise visit,” left the house with Ginny and Harry to meet the distinguished guests. Molly was in a panic due to her generally rumpled appearance but Arthur reminded her that the Prime Minister was just like them… well, almost.
When Rebecca saw Ginny trailing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, she ran ahead and jumped into her arms. The twins made a bee-line to Harry and started begging him to show them some magic. Promising the boys he would, Harry, holding Ginny’s hand, greeted Brian and Mary Thompson and introduced them to Ginny’s parents.
“Molly, Arthur, it’s an honour to meet you at last. Your daughter’s told us so much about you.” From most powerful people this greeting might feel false, or rehearsed, but Brian brought it off with perfect sincerity. After introducing the children, Molly took Mary to the house for a tour. Brian held Arthur back for a moment to speak with him quietly.
“I understand you’re considering the Minister of Magic position for a few weeks.” Brian’s voice and manner told Arthur that he hoped Arthur would take the position.
“Yes, Molly and I spoke about it last night for quite a while. I’ve stayed away from higher ministry positions until now, but it may be a good idea for someone like me to help settle things.” Arthur spoke softly and thoughtfully in his answer. “I think I might like that job, at least for a few weeks.”
“Outstanding, Arthur, excellent! My sources speak very highly of you, as does your daughter. I’m turning my job over to Anthony Linden until elections are held next month. He’s a good friend of mine and a capable leader. And he’s had some interaction with wizards, too.”
“Really? That’s excellent. One of the things I’d very much like to do...”
Walking off, away from the crowds, Brian and Arthur began plotting and planning the future of their two worlds, together. Trailing far in the rear were two security guards, neither understanding how much their world was about to change.
Later that evening, one last car pulled onto the Weasley property. Its driver and two other occupants emerged, one a middle aged man in a combination Wizard and Muggle outfit and with a perpetual smile on his face, the other was a teenage boy. Tiernan Keane had linked up with Peter Martin in Salisbury, where he had been trying to arrange transportation to Devon. Scotland Yard dispatched a car for the boy with Tiernan to escort him the rest of his journey.
Running to Percy’s house, Peter came across a number of people, none of whom he knew. Searching around the property, through the throngs of picnickers, Peter finally saw Harry and approached.
“Peter! Thank God you’re safe.” Pulling out the mobile phone, Harry started to hand it to Peter.
“No, that’s ok, Harry, I’ve already been chewed out by my parents. Do you know where I can find Percy?”
Harry’s face fell, he’d forgotten that Peter had not been told about Percy’s passing.
“No, Harry, it’s ok, I know he’s dead. Mr. Keane told me what happened. I was hoping you could tell me where his grave is, I, uh, you know, wanted to say good bye.”
“Sure, Peter. Let me get Ginny and we’ll walk over with you.” Asking Peter to stay put, Harry found Ginny in one of the food tents and dragged her away.
A short time later, Peter saw the three graves ahead and asked Harry and Ginny to wait for him. Walking the last hundred meters alone, Peter approached the fresh grave and sat down in front of it. Harry and Ginny could not see Peter speaking, nor could they hear him over the breeze rustling the tree branches.
“Sorry we couldn’t get together again, Percy, you were a good friend.” That was as far as Peter got before breaking down. Sobbing for his lost friend, Peter picked up a handful of dirt and sprinkled it back on the grave, letting his mind drift while he mourned.
A short while later, after calming down, Peter stood up and brushed off his trousers. Looking down on Percy one last time, all he could think to say was, “Thank you.” He knew his mind was playing tricks on him when he answered himself back. “You’re welcome, my friend. And thank you, too.” Dismissing the odd utterance, Peter turned and headed back to Harry and Ginny. About half way there, he reached for a handkerchief to dry his eyes and felt something unusual in his jacket pocket. Stopping, Peter grasped the thin, cylindrical object and removed it to see what it was.
“Peter!” Ginny called out, “Where did you get Percy’s wand?”
Looking back towards Percy’s grave, and then back, the look on his face told Harry and Ginny he had no idea whatsoever. “I just put my hand in my pocket and there it was!”
Approaching Harry and Ginny, Peter tried to hand it back to them. “Here, Ginny, this belongs to your family.”
Ginny smiled back at him, but refused to accept the wand. “No, Peter, I have no doubt that Percy would want you to have that, you are a wizard, now.”
Peter’s face broke into a huge smile and he put the wand back in his coat pocket. Harry put one arm around Peter and the other around Ginny and turned back to the picnic. Seeing the fireworks just starting, Harry made a suggestion.
“Let’s get some food, a blanket, and sit back to watch the show. I’m ready to relax and have some fun.”
*Spotted Dick is an English canned cake with raisons or chocolate chips (thus the “spot.”) It’s quite excellent with a chocolate or fudge topping.
A/N: There you are. Thank you, all for sticking with me through this little experiment of mine. In case you’re wondering, there will be an epilogue in which I will address some questions many of you have asked the past three months.