Almost Me Again by nuw255
Chapter Notes: Harry and Ginny head off to buy Harry a new wand. However, Ollivanders isn’t the only shop in Diagon Alley, and they run into some people they would have preferred to avoid.
“Good morning, Harry.”
The whispered words slowly penetrated Harry’s sleep-fogged mind, caressing his ear and gently bringing him back to consciousness. His eyes opened sluggishly, revealing a softly smiling face framed by flowing red hair.
“Morning,” Harry croaked, wincing internally at how bad his voice sounded as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Ginny chuckled quietly but didn’t comment, a fact for which Harry was grateful.
“Still in the mood to visit Ollivander?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Harry replied excitedly, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I reckon it’s the only way I’ll have a chance against Brian before long.” Ginny laughed as she stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her.
“Serves you right for suggesting that game before you really knew what you were getting into,” she called through the door. “I mean, you’d think you were smart enough not to invite the new incarnation of Fred to prank you whenever possible.”
“I still say I’d be just fine if he didn’t have the Invisibility Cloak and the Map,” Harry shot back grumpily while pulling on a set of charcoal gray robes.
“You can open the door now,” he called a moment later, while beginning to search for his trainers. Ginny pushed the door open and laughed, shaking her head at the sight of him down on one knee, peering under his bed.
“What now?” Harry asked exasperatedly, doing his best to ignore the way her laughter made him want to shiver. “Did I grab a dirty set of robes or something?”
Ginny peered closer at his robes. “I don’t think so, no,” she said. “It’s just, you have this tendency to spend about fifteen minutes every morning storming around your room, searching for things, before you remember you’re a wizard and you can just Summon whatever it is you’re looking for.” She smiled sweetly at him, and he couldn’t resist rolling his eyes back.
“Well, I could say I just don’t like being lazy,” he began.
“But you’d be lying,” she finished for him.
Harry sighed. “Probably, yeah.” He picked up his wand and wordlessly Summoned the missing trainers. A few short minutes and several witty comments later, he was ready to head down to breakfast. Their playful conversation continued all the way to the Great Hall, where they only stopped long enough to grab a few slices of toast before strolling out the great oak front doors, across the grounds, and out of the large gates of the school.
They had just pushed the gates closed and were preparing to Disapparate when Ginny laid a hand on his arm.
“Harry,” she said hesitantly. After speaking so easily to him all morning, the contrast in her tone was rather drastic, and Harry watched her inquisitively as she paused for a moment. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Am I ready to do what?”
Ginny muttered something to herself that he wasn’t quite able to make out, although he was fairly certain he had caught the word ‘dense’ in there somewhere.
Taking a deep breath, she looked him in the eye and tried again, speaking much more slowly than she normally did. “Harry, this is going to be the first time you’ve been out in public since you came back. McGonagall’s done an amazing job of keeping the public and the press out of Hogwarts, so you haven’t had to deal with being harassed yet, but once we get to Diagon Alley....”
Harry nodded in understanding. In truth, he hadn’t given much thought to the public’s or the press’s reaction to his return, but now that Ginny had brought it up, it seemed nothing less than a miracle that he hadn’t been mobbed at some point over the last two months. He now understood Ginny’s sudden nervousness, and found himself feeling rather queasy as well. He thought carefully before speaking.
“I suppose I’ll have to face it at some point, won’t I?” he sighed. “Maybe it will better to get it over with now, while Lily and Brian aren’t around. Plus, it’s early and we’re only planning to go to Ollivanders, so hopefully we can get in and out before too many people realize we’re there.”
Ginny shook her head, smiling sadly at his wishful thinking. “Do you remember how long it takes to buy a wand, Harry? We’ll probably be there for hours. I just- I just don’t want you caught by surprise, that’s all. I know how you feel about the attention people like to give you, and-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, cutting off her ramblings. “I’m glad you reminded me of what’s probably waiting for me but, seriously, what’s the worst that could happen? If we get mobbed too badly, we can just Apparate away, right?”
“I guess so,” Ginny said, still sounding somewhat doubtful. She shook herself and plastered a smile back onto her face. “Ready?”
Harry nodded, and they disappeared with simultaneous popping sounds.
They reappeared a moment later at the edge of a street that still caused a sense of awe to overtake Harry every time he looked at it. Diagon Alley was rather empty this early on a Saturday morning, but already a small handful of witches and wizards were making their way between the shops. As he glanced around, Harry could see the familiar stacks of cauldrons outside the cauldron shop, the rows of owls in the front window of Eeylops Owl Emporium, the Apothecary with its large display of revolting potion ingredients, and further down the street, the imposing structure of Gringotts Bank. Beyond, he could see Ollivanders Wand Shop, right across the street from a large store with the letters WWW emblazoned across the front. Apparently, Ginny had spotted it as well, because she swore quietly and turned to him with a worried expression on her face.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” she said nervously. “I completely forgot Fred and George’s shop is right across the street from Ollivanders.”
“We’d better get moving then, before they have a chance to spot us,” Harry decided. They hurried down the street, being very careful to avert their faces from Ginny’s brothers’ shop, and quickly arrived at the door to Ollivanders. Harry hesitated for only a second before pushing it open and stepping inside.
The interior of the shop was dim, in sharp contrast to the bright sunlight outdoors. By the time his eyes had adjusted to the sparse lighting, he found Mr. Ollivander, looking older than ever, staring curiously at him.
“Good morning, Mr. Potter,” he said quietly. “And to you, Mrs. Potter.” He said nothing more, just watched them with his sharp eyes. Harry allowed the slightly awkward silence to stretch out for a moment before deciding that the old man was waiting for one of them to speak.
“I’ve, er, come to see about getting another wand,” Harry said hesitantly. It was strange how this frail-looking old man was able to make him feel so incredibly uncomfortable with just a look.
“Has something happened to your original wand?” Ollivander asked with a raised eyebrow. “Has it been damaged somehow? Lost?”
“No, it’s fine,” Harry answered, shaking his head. He got the eerie feeling that Ollivander somehow knew the answer before he had even asked the question, but perhaps that was only his imagination.
“Excellent,” said Ollivander, his eyes still locked with Harry’s. “That is a particularly powerful wand, you know; it would be a terrible shame if something unpleasant were to befall it, as happened to its brother.” He sighed wistfully before giving himself a slight shake and adding, “But I suppose that couldn’t be helped, could it? No, it was necessary in that case.” He was muttering to himself now, and it sounded to Harry like he was trying to convince himself of the truth of his own words. The old man’s apparent sadness over the destruction of Voldemort’s wand so many years before unnerved him, and he quickly decided that he had best get things moving along. Harry cleared his throat loudly.
“Oh, terribly sorry, lad,” said Ollivander, coming to himself. “I don’t suppose that brings back very pleasant memories for you. But tell me, if your wand is as good as ever, why do you expect another to choose you?”
Harry paused to consider the question. He had known for years - ever since he had bought his wand at the age of eleven, in fact - that wands chose who would wield them, and not the other way around, but he had never really thought much about it. What made a wand choose its master? Would the other wands somehow know he already had a perfectly good wand of his own and reject him because of it? Or might a second wand choose him after all? More importantly, why was he standing here trying to puzzle this out when Ollivander probably already knew the answer?
“Am I just wasting my time, then?” Harry asked. “If another wand won’t choose me, then I won’t bother.”
“I never said that,” Ollivander responded quickly. “I merely posed a question.”
“But does the answer to your question matter?” Harry shot back at him.
“It may,” said the old man. “If you are looking for another wand because you wish to hang it on the wall, then I doubt one will choose you. Similarly, no wand of mine will wish to replace a perfectly good wand such as the one you now carry. However, if there is some reason....” He allowed the sentence to remain unfinished as he looked steadily into Harry’s eyes.
“I plan on using both wands,” Harry replied simply. “One in my right hand, the other in my left.”
“Ah!” Ollivander’s eyebrows rose and his mouth stretched into a smile. “You seek to become a master, then. In that case, I believe I can help you.” In a flash, he swept away from the front of the shop, pulling down wand boxes seemingly at random with surprising agility.
Harry glanced at Ginny as Ollivander went about his business. She was watching the old wandmaker warily, as though she didn’t quite know whether he was trustworthy or not. Well, Harry couldn’t blame her for that; he wasn’t completely comfortable with Ollivander either.
“So?” he asked quietly as they watched the elderly man flit about his shop.
“What?” Ginny responded just as quietly.
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think this is a waste of time?”
She considered his question for a moment before answering. “I’m not sure,” she said at last. “Ollivander seems to think it isn’t, but he doesn’t know you’re just looking for an advantage in a game you’re playing with your son.”
“Thanks,” Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. “You make me sound so mature.”
“Hey,” she said quietly, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t know if it’s enough of a need for another wand to choose you, you know?”
Harry let out a long breath and nodded. “I know,” he murmured. They stood in silence until Ollivander returned, but it didn’t feel awkward or strained, and for that Harry was glad.
“I believe we’ll start with this one, Mr. Potter,” said Ollivander, holding out an open box. Harry reached out and picked up the highly polished wand, but he knew the moment his fingers touched it that it wasn’t right. His own wand - the one that had chosen him as a young boy - had always felt warm in his hand. This one was cold, and felt more like stone than wood. He shook his head and put it down.
“No? This one, perhaps?” Ollivander held out another wand, but snatched it away before it had even touched Harry’s fingertips. Immediately, he presented another, and Harry sighed as he realized that this was going to take even longer than it had when he was eleven.
So it went, hours passing as each wand Harry tried proved just as unsuitable as the last. Several times he found himself on the verge of just giving up and going back to Hogwarts, but Ollivander’s growing excitement with each failed attempt somehow kept him going.
It was getting on toward noon, and Harry’s attention was much more on his growling stomach than his search for a new wand when he was startled back into reality by warmth flowing into his fingertips. Looking down at the wand he now grasped, he smiled. A tiny flick of his wrist was rewarded with a shower of red and gold sparks, and he could hear Ginny’s sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” he told a beaming Ollivander while reaching into his pocket for a handful of gold Galleons.
“It is always my pleasure,” Ollivander replied. “I find it very interesting that this wand should choose you, Mr. Potter, although now I think on it, it is not at all surprising.”
“Why’s that?” Harry asked with more than a bit of wariness. The last time Ollivander had told him something like that, he had learned that his wand was brothers with Voldemort’s.
Ollivander smiled, as though he could read Harry’s thoughts. “Oh, nothing so extraordinary as being brother to the wand of a powerful Dark wizard,” he remarked mildly. “Simply that this wand is made from the rowan tree, which makes it especially well suited to protective and defensive magic. If you intend to use two wands at once, it would only be logical that you would use your original wand for attack, and this one for defense.”
Harry raised his eyebrows as he stole a look at Ginny, who looked suitably impressed. “I was planning on using it almost exclusively for counter-curses, so that really does seem to make sense. What kind of core does it have?”
“Dragon heartstring,” replied the wandmaker, much to Harry’s surprise - he had expected another core of phoenix feather. His surprise must have showed on his face, because Ollivander smiled as he explained, “Dragons are known for being fiercely protective of what they claim as their own. Especially their nests.”
Harry chuckled. “I think I remember that,” he said wryly. “Mr. Ollivander, what sort of-”
“Hungarian Horntail,” was the answer to his unfinished question. “Yes, Mr. Potter, I am quite sure you were destined to carry this wand.”
“Thank you,” said Harry as he handed over the payment.
“Well,” said Ollivander, “I suppose I ought to unlock my door now so you two can be on your way and I can sort out this mess.” He gestured at the discarded wand boxes lying in a heap on the counter and floor.
“Unlock?” Ginny asked. “Why would you-” The question died in her throat as she turned toward the front of the shop to find a large crowd of people waiting outside, those who were closest pressed up against the glass of the windows. Although no sound entered the shop, it was easy to see that they were shouting out a description of what was happing inside to the people who were too far back to see.
“Bugger,” Harry muttered. “You don’t happen to have a back door, do you?” he asked, looking hopefully at Ollivander. The old man smiled sadly and shook his head.
“There is but one entrance or exit to this shop,” he said apologetically. “There is no back door, there are no other windows... not even a Floo.”
“Then we’ll have to Apparate out,” Harry concluded.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible either,” Ollivander said quietly. “You can no more Disapparate here than you can inside Hogwarts Castle.”
Harry stared disbelievingly at him. They were trapped, and the only way out was through a mob, some of whom had to be reporters.
“Look on the bright side, Harry,” Ginny told him. “At least this is a mob that likes you, right?”
“I apologize that I was unable to send them away,” said Ollivander. “I kept them out of the shop so that you could complete your purchase in peace, but....”
Harry waved away his apology. “It’s not your fault,” he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and nodded to himself.
“Right. I guess now’s as good a time as any to try out my new wand, isn’t it?” As he spoke, Harry quickly rolled up his left sleeve and pulled from his pocket the leather holster he had made to hold his original wand against his arm. With a wave of his holly wand, the holster bound the rowan wand tightly to his left forearm.
“If I may, Mr. Potter,” said Ollivander as Harry was fixing his sleeve, “your new wand will be quite difficult to access there.”
Harry just smiled and shook his head. “It’s right where I want it,” he assured Ollivander before pocketing his holly wand and unlocking the door with a wave of his left hand. Ollivander’s eyes widened in comprehension, but he did not try to detain either of his visitors as they pulled the door open and stepped into the mob. The moment the door’s edge left its frame, their ears were assaulted with a cacophony of shouting.
“Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!”
“-have you been?”
“Harry! Over here, Harry!”
“It’s really him! Oh, I can’t-”
“-no rumor after all!”
Harry kept his expression blank as he led Ginny slowly through the crowd, using his new rowan wand to subtly force people to move back and make a path. He ignored the shouts from well-wishers and admirers and the insinuations from a couple of the reporters, and just kept putting one foot in front of the other. They were in the middle of the street now, and almost to the far edge of the crowd. In just another moment Harry would be able to ward off the hands that grasped at his and Ginny’s cloaks and they would be free to Disapparate without fear of Splinching some poor unsuspecting soul in the process.
If she hadn’t been huddled so close to him, Harry never would have heard Ginny’s quiet gasp, but she was pressed in close to his side, and the startled sound made his eyes immediately follow her gaze. Standing directly in front of them on the far edge of the street were two men with identical faces and identical heads of flaming red hair. A gnawing sense of dread settled in his stomach.
“We’ll be free of the crowd in just a moment,” Harry whispered into Ginny’s ear. “We can Apparate away before Fred and George get to us.”
“No!” she hissed back at him. “Didn’t we agree that running away and hiding from my brothers was a bad idea? Now that they’ve seen you, they won’t stop ‘til they’ve talked to you, and you know it’ll only make it worse if you try to escape.”
Harry sighed heavily. He couldn’t argue with her logic, but that didn’t make it any easier to face the masters of mayhem when he knew they probably would like nothing better than to spend the next year pranking him nonstop. Nevertheless, he continued moving forward, silently using his wand to force the crowd back until he and Ginny arrived in front of the stony-faced twins.
“Hi,” Harry said lamely. They didn’t respond.
“Are you going to invite us inside, or am I going to have to hex some manners into you?” Ginny asked irritably.
“Oh ho!” Fred exclaimed. “Look at that, George; still thinks she can talk to us about manners.”
“True, true,” said George. “But she can talk to us about hexing, we know that.”
“Point,” Fred agreed, nodding.
“Well?” Harry asked with forced politeness. “Look, either invite us in or I’m Disapparating. Holding back a crowd this big without letting them know you’re doing it isn’t as easy as it looks, okay?” Ginny’s brothers looked suitably impressed.
“Be our guests,” said George, stepping aside and gesturing toward the entrance to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.
“Right this way,” Fred added, taking the lead. Harry and Ginny followed him, with George bringing up the rear.
“We’ll go straight back to the interroga-”
“Offices!” George cut his brother off loudly as they entered the joke shop. “We’ll go straight back to the offices.”
“Why’s the shop so empty?” Ginny asked in a concerned tone. “I thought business was going well.”
“It’s booming,” said Fred. “The shop was filled to bursting a few minutes ago, but when word got here that Harry Potter was out in the street... well, it sort of cleared out.”
“And, since we thought now would be an excellent time for a chat with our most beloved baby sister,” put in George.
“Not to mention her equally beloved husband,” Fred added.
“We put up the Closed sign and went outside ourselves to invite you in for tea,” George finished. He gestured for them to enter a large office. Harry followed Ginny inside, quickly taking in the long conference table surrounded by comfortable chairs. It was a rather plain-looking room. Considering whose shop it was in, it was positively boring.
Ginny must have noticed his expression, because she quickly explained, “This room’s for show. They use it when they have what they like to call ‘respectable guests’.”
“Potential investors, usually,” George added. He was about to pull the door shut when his brother stopped him.
“Not so fast, brother dear,” Fred said in his most serious voice. “We’ve some more guests that haven’t arrived just yet.”
George raised his eyebrows. “Have you already invited them? Because I think this might be more fun as a private party, if you know what I mean.”
“Ah, but we wouldn’t want to have all the fun ourselves when there’s so much to spread around,” Fred contradicted, his eyes twinkling madly and reminding Harry of a psychotic Dumbledore. “Besides, it’s only fitting that we make this a family affair.”
As if on cue, Harry heard the fireplace out in the shop roar to life, accompanied by several cracks and pops of Apparition. He glanced nervously at Ginny, who responded with a slight shrug and a strained smile. Harry sighed, resigning himself to his fate. He knew he was about to be humiliated, but clung to the hope that Fred and George would refrain from doing anything truly cruel.
“This had better not be a joke, Fred,” came Bill’s familiar voice from the next room.
“I would ‘ate to ‘ave to hex you,” Fleur agreed.
“No joke,” Fred replied exuberantly. “And if you want to hex somebody, the perfect candidate is right through that door.” Harry silently wished he had found some way to buy a wand owl-order.
The voices outside the room grew louder as George stepped back from the door, allowing everyone to enter. First were Bill and Fleur, followed closely by Katie Bell, who was carrying a baby. Next came Charlie and a dark-haired witch who Harry assumed was his wife. They were followed by Angelina Johnson, who was carrying a small boy in one arm and dragging another boy of about nine by the ear with the other. If the circumstances hadn’t been so dire, Harry would have laughed out loud at the sight of her children; although their skin was only a shade or two lighter than their mother’s, each boy’s head was topped with a bright red afro.
Finally, Percy entered with his wife, Penelope, each of them carrying a young boy. Fred brought up the rear, closing the door with a flourish, and announcing, “Welcome to The Society Of Those Who’ve Been Kept In The Dark And Wish To Be Enlightened.”
Harry stared at him as everyone else shuffled around, finding seats at the large conference table.
“Well?” Angelina asked irritably as she shoved her older son back into his seat.
“Well what?” Harry asked in return. “What do you mean by all this, Fred? Why’d you call so many people?”
“So many?” said Fred, feigning surprise as his eyes roved around the room. “Actually, I think we’re short by two.” Right on cue, there was a knock on the door. “That must be them now.” He pulled the door open, allowing Remus and Tonks Lupin to enter, and inviting them to find a place to sit.
“Now, Harry,” Fred began again once everyone was seated. “This is not just a bunch of people, as you seem to have assumed. All of these people have something in common, am I right?”
Ginny swore quietly, and Harry turned to her with a questioning look.
“What, Harry?” she asked wearily. “Isn’t it obvious? This is all the family we didn’t tell about you being back. Well, those that haven’t seen you at school already, anyway.”
Harry blanched. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Molly, and Arthur had told him over the summer how much their family had grown, but he had never realized just how many people they were talking about. As his gaze passed over each face and he saw the sorrow and the questions in their eyes, a deep sense of shame settled over him. Suddenly, giving himself time to adjust to his new life seemed like an extremely feeble reason for keeping his return a secret from the rest of the Weasley family.
When his eyes settled on the haggard face of Remus Lupin, Harry’s heart nearly broke. He could only imagine the amount of pain he had caused this man who had been his friend and mentor ever since he was thirteen. The tired, hurt look in the eyes of the last Marauder told him all he needed to know. Despite all the time that had gone by, Remus hadn’t changed a bit. He still expected everyone to shun him because of his lycanthropy, and that was exactly how he had interpreted Harry’s failure to contact him. Harry sighed heavily and sank deeper into his chair, realizing for the first time just how many people he had hurt by hiding himself away for the month that had elapsed between regaining his memory and leaving for Hogwarts.
“I’m-” Harry’s voice cracked, forcing him to stop and start again.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, his eyes still on Remus. The words sounded hollow, despite his sincerity. “So sorry,” he whispered. Unable to bear it any longer, he looked away, focusing his gaze on the wooden tabletop.
“Why, Ginny?” Bill asked in a quiet voice. “Why did you hide him from us? Mum and Dad knew he was back, and so did Ron and Hermione. Why didn’t you just tell the rest of the family?”
“And why did you decide to tell our kids about stuff we’ve decided they ought not to hear?” Charlie asked, a bit of an edge to his voice.
“That wasn’t Ginny, Charlie,” Harry replied without looking up. “That was me.
She didn’t know about it until after.”
“We’ll come back to that,” said Bill, cutting off Ginny’s retort. “Ginny? What about my questions?”
“I don’t know, alright?” she blurted angrily. “There was a lot going on, and Harry wasn’t ready to deal with a big crowd of people yet. He’d already run away twice since showing up, and I was afraid he might do it again, and not come back this time.”
“Come on, Ginny,” George began.
“Shut it, George!” she snapped. “Harry wasn’t ready to face one your famous Weasley Family Inquisitions, and I was terrified that he’d bolt if you tried to force him to. And don’t try to deny you would have done exactly that, because we all know you would have!”
“You still could have told us your husband wasn’t dead, Ginny,” said Percy. “If you’d explained the situation, we would have respected your wishes.”
“Instead, we had to find out from the Daily Bloody Prophet,” Fred spat venomously.
“It’s your own fault,” Ginny retorted, her eyes flashing. “I’ve no doubt that Percy would have let Harry have his space, but don’t try to tell me you would have, Fred. Or any of the rest of you, for that matter. And if I’d told Percy and not the rest of you lot, things would be even worse because you’d be screaming, ‘Favoritism.’ Plus I’d have had to sit through Percy lecturing me about how I really ought to tell all of you!”
“You tell ‘em, Aunt Ginny!” shouted Angelina’s older boy, leaping to his feet.
“Quiet, Peeves!” Angelina hissed, roughly shoving him back into his seat. “You’re not helping. I knew I shouldn’t have brought you today.”
“Enough!” Harry shouted. “Look, I know we messed up pretty big by not telling all of you the minute I got my memory back. I’m sorry. If I could go back and change things, I’d do it, but the fact is I can’t. The thing you need to understand, though, is that even after my memory came back, everything wasn’t normal for me. Half my brain was telling me I was nineteen and had just defeated Voldemort, and the other half was telling me I was a thirty-four-year-old Muggle with the mind of a fifteen-year-old.”
Blank stares and looks of complete bafflement met this pronouncement.
“Exactly,” Harry continued, relieved that the accusations had stopped. “I was really screwed up and I needed time to try and sort things out. I’m sorry I hurt some or all of you by not letting anybody tell you I was back; I was just so... out of it. And Ginny was doing everything she could to help me keep it together, and Brian couldn’t stand to be in the same room with me-”
“Harry.” The quiet, slightly hoarse voice of Remus Lupin startled him out of his ramblings. “Harry, I can’t speak for anyone else, but I, for one, forgive you. There’s no sense dwelling on what we can’t change. Welcome back.” He stood and strode over to Harry’s chair, where he pulled Harry to his feet and into a crushing embrace.
“It’s been too long,” Remus whispered.
“It has,” Harry agreed, tears of relief straining to escape his eyes.
“I’m with Remus,” Tonks said decisively as she hurried over to pull Harry into a hug of her own. “Welcome back, Harry. The rest of that rubbish doesn’t matter; what matters is that you’re back.”
That seemed to open the floodgate, as Harry and Ginny were soon surrounded by forgiving family members and pulled into more hugs than either of them could count. Near the door, Fred and George watched in silence for a moment.
“You know,” Fred remarked as he watched Charlie slapping Harry on the back, “I reckon you were right. This would have been more fun as a private party.”
“True, brother mine, true,” said George. “But I reckon your idea was better in the end. It is good to have him back, isn’t it?”
Fred cracked a smile. “That it is, George. Shall we?”
George nodded, and they hurried over to join the gigantic hugging mass. It wasn’t until several minutes later, after countless apologies, embraces, and expressions of forgiveness, that everyone slowly retook their seats.
“So,” Harry said once he could see everyone again, “now that we’re past that, would somebody like to introduce me to the rest of the family now?”
“Excellent idea,” said George, clapping his hands once with enthusiasm. “I’ll just begin, shall I? You already know my wife, Katie, of course.” Katie waved across the table with her free hand. “We’ve been married two years now. She’s holding our daughter, Tabitha Catherine Weasley - named in honor of our old head of house and your new boss.”
“McGonagall’s first name is Minerva,” Harry protested, looking at George in confusion.
George grinned at him. “That’s what they all say, isn’t it, Katie?”
Katie rolled her eyes at him. “The poor girl’s ten months old, and he’s still keeping up the joke.”
“If he’s anything like his twin, he’ll keep it up for the rest of his life,” Angelina muttered.
George cleared his throat theatrically, pulling the room’s attention back to himself. “Tabitha Catherine, Harry. Come on, think about it. Tabitha Catherine - Tabby Cat!” He and Fred burst into gales of laughter, while the rest of the family mostly rolled their eyes at the pair.
“You call your daughter Tabby Cat?” Harry chuckled.
“Well, I wanted to name her Allison originally. Alley Cat, you know? But Katie wouldn’t go for it.”
“How’d you get her to go along with Tabby Cat?” Harry asked, still trying not to laugh.
“He threatened to do what Fred did to Angelina,” Katie answered.
“What did-”
“He named our firstborn son Peeves while I was still too groggy from pain potions to realize what was going on,” Angelina answered in a slightly disgruntled tone.
“That’s me!” shouted the boy next to her, shooting to his feet and grinning broadly. Harry couldn’t help smiling at how garishly his bright red afro stood out against his dark skin. “I’m gonna be just like the other Peeves when I go to Hogwarts. He’ll be my best mate.”
Angelina groaned. “See what you’ve done to the poor boy?” she asked Fred wearily.
“Of course,” Fred answered proudly, not looking the least bit ashamed of himself.
Unable to stand it any longer, Harry opened his mouth to ask the question that had been bothering him ever since Angelina had entered. “Er, Angelina? Your sons’ hair... is it-”
“No,” she sighed. “It’s naturally black. Or it was, anyway, until Evil Genius Fred here decided that all Weasley men had to have red hair. Believe me, I’ve tried to change it back, but-”
“The color can’t be changed,” Fred interrupted excitedly. “She’s tried glamour charms, specialty potions, even Muggle hair dye, but nothing works. Besides, they like their hair, don’t you boys?”
“Yeah!” they shouted in unison.
“Oh, by the way, Harry, these are our sons: Peeves Padfoot and James Moony,” said Fred. “Peeves is nine, and James is six.”
“Nice to meet you,” Harry chuckled.
“Alright, who’s next?” called George.
“Charlie?” Bill suggested. “Harry already knows Fleur and me, and he met our kids at school.”
“Right,” said Charlie. “Harry, this is my wife, Katerina. Katerina, this is Harry Potter, obviously.”
“It’s good to finally meet you,” said Katerina.
“Nice to meet you, too,” said Harry. “Linda’s a good girl; you’ve done a wonderful job with her.”
“Speaking of Linda,” Charlie cut in, “what’s this business about you telling our children all sorts of things we didn’t want them to have to hear about?” The table fell silent, and some of the former tension seemed to seep back into the room.
“I told-”
“Harry and I discussed it,” Ginny said loudly, drowning out Harry’s response. “We decided that since the stories we’d been keeping secret were all about him, he ought to be able to share them if he wanted to. You all know that the main reason we didn’t talk about anything involving Harry was because the memories were too painful. Now that he’s back....” Her voice trailed away uncertainly as her eyes flicked from face to face, willing them to understand.
“You still don’t have any right-”
“I really don’t care, Charlie,” Harry said calmly.
Charlie’s muscular jaw tightened as he glared at his brother-in-law.
“Look,” Harry continued, “I don’t mind secrets when they’re being kept for a good reason, but I have no patience for withholding information for no reason at all. And arbitrarily deciding that somebody is too young to hear it is not a valid reason.”
“Linda is not your daughter,” Charlie said tightly.
“You’re right,” Harry answered. “But let me tell you why I won’t accept a person’s age as a valid reason for keeping them in the dark. Children are much smarter and more capable than adults give them credit for. In our first year, Ron, Hermione, and I told Professor McGonagall that someone was going to try to steal the Philosopher’s Stone, but we were ignored. Why? Because we were mere children. Even after we got past the best protections the Hogwarts staff could devise and rescued the Stone from Voldemort, we were still treated like children.
“In my second year, I used a bloody sword to kill a Basilisk, and very nearly died in the process. I saved Ginny’s life, Dumbledore’s career as Headmaster, and Hogwarts itself from closing, but to the adults, I was still just a little boy who couldn’t handle hearing the truth. That attitude didn’t change until it finally got Sirius killed, and Dumbledore realized that keeping me in the dark was doing a lot more harm than good.”
“Harry,” Ginny said softly, laying a hand on his arm.
“No, Ginny; he needs to understand this. We all need to understand. Our kids understand a lot more than we give them credit for, and we’ll all be a whole lot better off if we just accept that fact and show them a little trust.” He looked steadily into Charlie’s eyes as he finished, “So I’m not apologizing for anything I told them.”
Charlie stared back for a moment before breaking into a grin. “You never change, do you, Potter? I suppose we can give you a pass this time, seeing as you just got back and all. But in the future, could you at least warn us before you go spilling your guts to the kids?”
“Deal,” Harry grinned.
“Excellent!” cried George, jumping forward and trying to inject some liveliness back into the room. “Well, I guess the only introductions left are Percy’s. Sorry to keep you waiting, Perce, but you know how Charlie is about his little girl.”
“Of course,” said Percy. “Well, Harry, I believe you remember Penelope.”
Harry and Penelope exchanged a quick greeting.
“These are our boys,” Percy continued, gesturing to the pair of redheads sitting with him and his wife. “Fabian here is five, and Gideon is three. They are, of course, named after our mother’s brothers.”
“Of course, of course,” Fred said impatiently. “And, now that the introductions are done, what I’d really like to know is, is anybody else hungry?” There was a general agreement, and soon the entire family group was joined by Arthur, Molly, Ron, Hermione, and little Tom, and crammed into a private room at the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn’t until evening that Harry and Ginny returned, exhausted, to Hogwarts.
“So,” Ginny said quietly as they made their way across the vast lawn toward the castle, “how do you think it went?”
“Not bad,” Harry answered. “I got my new wand, and nobody in your family wants to kill me anymore. I’d say that makes it a pretty good day.”
“I think so too,” she murmured through a yawn. “I’m completely knackered, though. I think I’ll head right to bed.”
“Me too,” Harry muttered. Ginny glanced hopefully at him, but immediately looked away and schooled her features into an expression of disinterest. Once they were inside the castle, however, she glanced back over at him and her mouth twitched into an involuntary smile.
“What?” Harry asked warily.
“Nothing,” she replied, still smiling broadly as they made their way to their quarters.
“Ginny-”
“It’s no big deal,” she interrupted, opening the door to their shared sitting room. “Good night, Harry.” Without another word, she slipped into her bedroom and closed the door.
Sighing, Harry shut the door leading out into the corridor and headed for his own bedroom. As he pulled off his robes, something caught his eye and he instinctively turned to see what it was. A moment later, he was staring in disbelief at his reflection. His hair was electric blue.