The Small Print
By Siriusly Amused
Note: I'm beginning to wonder why I decided to write this in both third and first person. I'm an idiot sometimes, but it's too late to change that. I also made a lot of original characters, and I'm trying to introduce them as slowly as possible so I don't confuse anyone.
Chapter Three:
Things Fall Apart
"Hello, Ginny. Imagine finding you here."
Ginny Weasley slowed her hurried gait and turned her head to find Marcia Williams walking briskly beside her. The two women were headed toward the front doors of St. Brutus High and both of them radiated with frustrated anger.
"Yes, it does seem that our sons are joined at the hip when it comes to trouble," Ginny replied with a scowl. "Hello, by the way," she added, offering the other woman as kind a smile as she could muster under the circumstances.
"I can only imagine what they did this time," Marcia continued as they reached the glass doors.
"I'd rather not know," Ginny mumbled, entering the school. Ginny's and Marcia's shoes echoed down the hallway as the two made their way toward the office; once inside, the three school secretaries barely acknowledged their presence; Ginny and Marcia were becoming regulars.
"Ah, there they are now," came the voice of the school's superintendent as Ginny and Marcia entered his office. Their eyes quickly found their sons slouched in chairs that were in front of the superintendent's desk. Ash offered his mother an apologetic wince, but Hayden merely stared blankly at Ginny as she sat down beside him.
"Coffee?" the superintendent, a burly man in his late forties, asked, waving a hand at a nearby coffee pot.
"I just want to know what my son did," Marcia interjected crossly.
"Well actually, it was quite amazing. I don't know how they pulled it off!" the superintendent boasted merrily. Ginny and Marcia both raised irritated, questioning eyebrows, indicating that they had no patience for small talk. "They managed to lock the whole of the freshmen class on the school's roof!" the superintendent finished, clapping his hands together in front of himself and offering a wide smile.
Ginny felt the corners of her lips pull into a smile of her own. The prank sounded like something Fred and George would have done as teenagers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hayden smirk; he had caught her smiling and knew he was not in serious trouble.
"So what's the boy's punishment?" Marcia asked, outwardly annoyed at the superintendent's laid back attitude over the prank.
"Punishment?" the superintendent asked, blinking with surprise. "Well, they already got their driving privileges taken away for their last prank. We've got them on cleaning duty as well. Detentions don't seem to work for them…" The superintendent scratched his chin in contemplation. "I suppose I'll let them off with this one seeing as no one's hurt; however, there is something of importance that I would like to talk with you two about."
Ginny caught her son and his friend exchange frightened glances. They apparently did not know what else the superintendent could talk about.
"The school has just received the results for the SATs that the juniors took last month," the superintendent continued seriously, reaching into his desk and pulling out two large envelopes.
Ginny felt her pulse quicken. She had always been strict with Hayden where his school work was concerned, but his grades had been slipping. "And?" she asked, willing herself to continue breathing.
"And both boys scored exceedingly well," the superintendent answered, glancing down his nose at the SAT results in his hands, "which makes me wonder why they're both holding C averages in all their classes." He looked questioningly at the two teenaged boys sitting across from him. Neither offered an answer. "I've been getting complaints from their teachers about attitude problems," the superintendent continued. "For example, when Mr. Williams was in his art class the other day and asked to analyze a painting, he refused and used profane language."
Marcia glared at her son. "What did you say?"
"I just…" Ash began, a blush appearing across his visage.
"What. Did. You. Say."
Ash sighed dejectedly, closed his eyes and launched off into an explanation. "We were asked to analyze that banana painting by Andy Warhol." He paused and opened his eyes slightly, as if he was trying to plead with his mother to not make him continue.
"And?" Marcia inquired.
"And you know how I hate analyzing things!" Ash stated very loudly.
Marcia glared at her son, who was shrinking under pressure.
"So I said that it was just a fucking banana!" Ash finished in a rush, wincing.
"ASHTON JOSHUA WILLIAMS! I DID NOT RAISE YOU TO USE SUCH LANGUAGE!"
"And yet here I am using it." Ash rubbed a hand across his closed eyes.
Marcia's glare intensified.
"Sorry, Mom."
A chuckle sounded from the superintendent but was quickly silenced when Marcia directed her glare at him.
"So I just wanted to inform you of that," the superintendent went on, playing with the papers on his desk in an effort to not look at Marcia's intense glare.
"Thank you," Ginny said, cutting Marcia off from whatever tirade she was about to go on. The superintendent smiled warmly at her.
"Well, seeing as their last class is nearly over, I shall excuse the boys. You may take them home."
The boys immediately stood. Ash grabbed his mother's arm and led her out of the office before she could say anything more. Hayden waited patiently for Ginny to stand and say goodbye to the superintendent. The two walked out of the office and down the hall in silence; it wasn't until they were out of the school and heading toward the parking lot that Ginny opened her mouth to reprimand her son for his falling grades, but he cut her off with a very unusual sentence:
"There's an owl on your car."
"What?" Ginny snapped, furrowing her brow in confusion. She had been so focused on what she was going to say to Hayden that her mind did not register the sentence.
"An owl," Hayden repeated. "On your car." Behind them the school bell rang and Ginny heard the pompous voice of the superintendent as he left the building, heading to his own car. Her eyes quickly sought out her car and sure enough, a large tawny owl was perched upon it, a card attached to its leg.
Hayden was rushing toward it as casually as he could.
"Quickly, Hayden! Before anyone sees!" Ginny called after him in a strained voice. She watched as her son quickly took the card from the bird and shooed it off.
"Would you look at that!" called the superintendent from a short distance away. "An owl! In broad daylight!"
"Yes, it's quite strange, isn't it?" Ginny called back to him, hoping that he didn't notice the owl had been perched upon her car as if waiting for someone. Ginny was just beginning to relax when a loud and horrible noise issued close to her car; Hayden had tentatively opened the card, but had slammed it shut at the sound of the racket.
"Did you hear that?" the superintendent called across the parking lot.
"Hear what?" Ginny asked, feigning ignorance. Hayden was quickly scrambling into the passenger seat of her car. The superintendent furrowed his brow in confusion and shook his head.
"I must have been hearing things. Well, good bye Ms. Weasley!"
"Bye!" Ginny called, waving after him as she got into her car. Hayden was slumped in his seat, staring dejectedly at his card.
"They used a recording charm so that the card sings happy birthday to me," he explained somberly.
"Who's they?"
Hayden reluctantly opened the card once more and the car was filled with off key singing; Ginny noticed a male voice singing 'you live in a zoo'.
"Callie, the triplets, Alaina, Rupert and Bastien," Hayden read off before closing the card. "So basically the Hogwarts people."
"They sent an international owl!?" Ginny asked, shocked. "Do they realize how expensive that is?"
Hayden shrugged moodily. "Apparently not." He tossed the card to the car floor and Ginny felt her heart wrench.
She had given Hayden all of her old school books and he had read through them hungrily and understood nearly every concept of magic; however, as a Squib, he could not perform even the simplest of spells. As a result, Hayden had grown up in the Muggle World, attended a Muggle school, and had Muggle friends. He loved his family, but he had become detached from them; he envied their magic.
"Could we please just go?" Hayden mumbled, bringing Ginny out of her thoughts. The parking lot around them was filling up with teachers on their way home. Ginny nodded glumly and started the car, finding a spot in the traffic.
As she waited for the car in front of her to move forward, Ginny risked a glance at her son who was staring moodily out of the window. He had grown into a strikingly handsome young man. His hair was auburn, a mix between her red and Harry's black, but was as messy as Harry's has ever been. He had the Weasley height and broad shoulders, but his facial features were all Harry--right down to his piercing green eyes.
"Mom, traffic's moving," Hayden mumbled, looking out at the cars ahead of them.
"Oh! Right," Ginny uttered distractedly, gently pressing her foot down upon the accelerator. It was traffic like this that made Ginny wish for the old flying car her brother had lost in the Forbidden Forest.
"So…" Ginny started awkwardly. Hayden had his hand out, flipping through the radio stations for a song he liked. "Tomorrow's your birthday."
"Yep," Hayden mumbled, keeping his attention on the radio.
"Seventeen," Ginny added.
"Uh huh," Hayden answered.
"It's an important age."
"Not here it isn't." Hayden's voice had an edge to it; he knew what Ginny was getting at. Ginny sighed with frustration.
"You're going to your grandparents," she ordered.
There was a pause in which Ginny held her breath and then:
"Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
For a moment, Ginny was greatly relieved; then she grew suspicious. She looked over at her son and narrowed her eyes, but opted to stay silent. He was going to go, even if she had to grab a hold of him and Apparate herself.
-------
Pansy Parkinson smiled vindictively as the two Aurors in front of her fell to the ground. She had not used an Unforgivable on them, but something just as bad in her opinion: a curse designed to trap a person inside their nightmares. The two men on the floor jerked in their never-ending sleep, their minds haunted by visions of lost loved ones or perhaps a gigantic spider or two. As far as Pansy knew, there was no possible way to wake them up and their exhausted minds would eventually give up, causing their bodily functions to halt and resulting in death.
Pansy casually stepped over the bodies and entered the room that they had been guarding. All magical ministries were the same and the French Ministry of Magic was no different; The Room of Slightly Dangerous Artifacts was located in the same place in every ministry that Pansy had ever been in; the only difference with the French one was that a gigantic map of the world was hung up on one wall.
"All right, ladies," Pansy instructed to the four women behind her. "Start looking. It's a golden locket with a tiny diamond in its center." The women, each clad in matching black leather uniforms, began searching while Pansy turned toward the map and examined it.
The map was black, the borders of each country glowed blue and within each country, tiny blue dots appeared and disappeared, twinkling like stars. Within moments, Pansy deduced that it was a map that showed the occurrences of wandless magic. Lucius Malfoy had shown her and Draco a similar map located in the English Ministry of Magic when they were teenagers. He had explained that most of the time, the occurrences were merely young witches and wizards who had yet to learn how to control their magic, while a few of the twinkling dots belonged to older witches and wizards who could master simple, wandless spells. There apparently hadn't been any surges of powerful wandless magic since Albus Dumbledore died.
"Pansy."
Pansy turned her head to see Charlotte, a young blonde who had joined Death Eater's Daughters a year ago and had quickly risen through the ranks, holding a golden locket with a diamond in the center of the heart."
"Well done, Charlotte," Pansy complimented, gingerly taking the locket away from the young girl. The story of the locket had been an old folk lore that Pansy had heard from her own mother as a young girl. Legend had it that a golden locket existed and that whoever wore said locket would have the power to see everyone's darkest secrets and weakest vulnerabilities.
Reverently, her breath caught in her chest, Pansy clasped the locket around her neck. She expected to feel some sort of sensation, perhaps a shiver down her spine, but she felt nothing. Fearing that the locket didn't work, Pansy's eyes shot frantically to Charlotte, who was staring at her with an almost bored expression on her face.
"Well?" Charlotte asked with a sort of half shrug. "Did it work?"
Suddenly, Pansy knew not only that Charlotte wasn't a natural blonde, but also that she had gone to a Muggle plastic surgeon for breast implants, thought Phillip Weasley was attractive and had killed a would be rapist when she was seventeen. Pansy smirked.
"Phillip Weasley, Charlotte? Honestly!"
Charlotte mirrored Pansy's smirk and shrugged once again. The girl apologized for nothing.
Pansy's eyes immediately sought out the other three girls, all of whom were looking apprehensive, but before she could register any of their secrets, the map behind her illuminated the room in a blue light as a surge of wandless magic, stemming from somewhere in the United States, appeared.
"Charlotte," Pansy said, watching as the blue light faded on the map.
"Already on it," Charlotte replied, typing the coordinates into some Muggle device. The girl's ability to merge Muggle technology with magic was one of her greatest strengths that she had brought to the Death Eater's Daughters.
Charlotte's eyebrows quirked upwards in surprise as she stared down at the Muggle device.
"What is it?" Pansy asked.
"The only registered magical person in that area of the United States is Ginny Weasley," Charlotte replied, glancing uncertainly up at Pansy.
"Ginny Weasley," Pansy echoed, pacing slowly back and forth, her mind reeling. She had known Ginny to be a very accomplished witch when they were in school together, but she had never seen the youngest Weasley – or any Weasley for that matter – perform magic without the aid of a wand. Still, that was nearly two decades ago; Ginny could very well have become much more powerful since then. Her ability to perform wandless magic may have even been the reason why she and Harry Potter broke up all those years ago.
"It's the same town that has that Muggle branch of Weasley Wheezes; we'd be able to use the Floo," Charlotte suggested.
Pansy paused and brought a hand to the locket. She knew that Ginny Weasley would never willingly join their ranks, but perhaps she could be forced to. Surely the redhead had a secret. Why else has she been in hiding all these years, throwing fame, fortune, family and Harry Potter away to live by her self in another country?
Smiling, Pansy turned and faced the others. "Ladies, we have a trip to make."
The others smiled and Pansy made a mental note that Sophie wasn't really a size six before turning around and heading out the door. It wasn't long before they came upon a fireplace and moments later stepped out into a large office.
While it had been night in Paris, it was merely early evening in America, the sun slinking along the western horizon.
"She's not here," Pansy commented, placing her hands on her hips and glancing around the office.
"Most Muggles only work from nine in the morning to five at night," Charlotte stated. "She's probably at home by now."
Pansy let out a frustrated sigh. "And how are we going to find her home, Ms. I-Know-All-About-Muggles?"
Charlotte didn't flinch, but merely stared blankly at Pansy.
"Well, I'm assuming this is her house," Charlotte answered, pointing to a framed picture on the mantel over the fireplace. Pansy stepped closer and examined the picture: it was of a comfortable looking house, white with black shudders, and standing in front of it were George and Ginny Weasley, hugging with big, dopey Weasley smiles plastered on their faces.
Pansy nodded and signaled the others to Apparate onto the front lawn of that house. Once they were all there, they walked up to the front door and Charlotte pressed a mysterious orange button that sounded a bell within the house. Moments later, the door was opened to reveal, not Ginny Weasley, but a strikingly handsome teenaged boy who had particularly familiar messy hair and green eyes. Immediately, Pansy knew that the boy's biggest secret was that he came from a magical family and that he was terrified of his Muggle friends ever finding out.
"Can I help you ladies?" the boy asked, offering them a slight smile and leaning casually against the door frame.
"Is your mother home?" Pansy asked once she found her voice back. Those green eyes definitely weren't Ginny's! She only knew one person who had eyes that green and he was currently on the cover of Witch Weekly.
"She is not," the boy answered, his American accent thick.
"We'll wait then," Pansy stated, and before the boy could even open his mouth to reply, she took out her wand and muttered a charm that sent him crashing to the floor, unconscious.
Pansy stepped inside the house and knelt down beside the boy, running a finger along his slightly stubbled jaw.
"Ginny Weasley, what have you been hiding?"
-------
Ginny Weasley appeared in her dark kitchen, her arms laden with the gifts her family had gotten for her son. She felt exhausted and confused. It had only been a few hours ago that she had been chasing her teenaged son around his bedroom, trying to coax him into her arms so that she could Apparate them to The Burrow. But the boy, who had no intention of celebrating his seventeenth birthday with his grandparents, repeatedly dodged her lunges.
He had even, at one point, taken his wand out of his sock drawer and brandished it at her saying "Imperio" over and over again, of course to no avail. Appearing frustrated with himself, Hayden had thrown his wand down and glared at her.
Suddenly, a voice had filled Ginny's head, urging her to go to the party without him and, unable to stop herself, Ginny Apparated to The Burrow sans Hayden.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had asked where Hayden was and Ginny quickly made some excuse for him. She then spent the rest of the night in a moody silence, wondering what had happened and what exactly it meant. Hayden couldn't have possibly used the Imperius curse on her! He was a Squib! The very idea of him accomplishing even the Lumos spell was laughable! Yet Ginny couldn't shake the feeling that he had, in fact, used the Imperius curse on her without the aid of a wand or even mouthing the word.
"Ugh, Ginny you're going mad," she whispered to herself, rubbing her temples as she left the kitchen and entered the living room.
"Well with a family like yours, who could blame you? I would have gone mad a long time ago if I had six buffoons for brothers."
Ginny stopped, frozen, and stared at the darken figures sitting on her couch. Her hand immediately went to her wand.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, pointing her wand at the intruders. Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness and she was starting to make out facial features on the women. The one sitting in the middle, obviously the leader from her posture and smirk, looked disconcertingly familiar. She had long, black hair and a face that resembled a pug.
"Parkinson!" Ginny whispered, shocked.
Pansy's smirk grew wider, more vindictive. "You're joking," she said, issuing a short laugh. Ginny furrowed her brow in confusion. What was Pansy on about? "Harry Potter knocked you up when you were nineteen and you bore him a Squib!" Pansy threw her head back and laughed loudly, her followers issuing giggles. "Harry Potter's only son is a Squib! Oh this is too good to be true! I guess that explains all the Muggle stuff around here." Pansy gestured to the TV.
"How do you…?" Ginny asked softly, the familiar fingers of alarm gripping her stomach, the hair on the back of her neck rising.
Pansy didn't answer; she merely continued to smirk at Ginny.
"The Daily Prophet will love this story," she threatened.
"You wouldn't," Ginny stated, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow. She knew there was nothing that Pansy wouldn't do, including giving up her own daughter for money.
"Like keeping your son safe and sound, do you?" Pansy asked. Ginny glared at her. "I'm willing to make a deal with you, Ginny."
Ginny's eyes glanced up to Hayden's bedroom. "I'm listening."
Pansy stood and came closer. "First, you hand over your wand," she instructed, holding out her hand for Ginny's wand. "It's not like you need it anyway," she added in an undertone, and Ginny chose to ignore the comment. She handed her wand over uncertainly. Suddenly, her arms snapped to her sides as her entire body became victim to a binding charm. Pansy threw an arm around her. "I think you'll be very happy with us, Ginny Weasley," she stated and with several loud cracks, the entire group Disapparated, pulling Ginny along for the ride.
-------
My alarm rang, each beep piercing through my brain like a knife. It was Friday morning, the day after my seventeenth birthday, and I was lying on top of my covers, fully dressed, with a splitting headache and little to no recollection of what I had done the night before.
"Must have had a good birthday," I muttered to myself, bringing a heavy hand down upon my alarm clock and silencing the annoying beeping. I considered skipping school, but knew that I couldn't. Exams were less than a week away and I needed all the reviewing I could get. I some how managed to shower and dress with just enough time to catch the bus.
"Where the hell were you last night, man?" Ash greeted me angrily through a mouthful of banana as I sat beside him on the bus.
"Ugh, Ash, please use your inside voice," I whined, leaning forward to rest my head on the seat in front of me in order to stop the Great Headache of 2018.
"Are you hung over?" Ash asked. He seemed almost surprised about it. "Damn, you must have some cool grandparents. Can I come to the next family reunion?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked, rubbing my temples.
"Well you didn't show up last night, so the guys and I thought your mom forced you to go to your grandparents for your birthday like she normally does. We all went to the club without you and Anthony tried dancing with some girl, but got dizzy and threw up over her, so we left early and I was in bed by 10:30." He paused and finished his banana, throwing the peel out of the window when the bus came to a stop light. "So what the hell did you do last night?" he asked, furrowing his brow at me.
I stared at him. "I wasn't with you?" I asked, my stomach suddenly feeling queasy.
"I just said you weren't!"
"Well I didn't go to my grandparents!"
"Then where the hell did you go!?"
"I don't know!"
Ash gave me a suspicious glare, his hazel eyes mere slits and his nose and face pinched. "You must have had one hell of a birthday," he said at last, very slowly. "And you only turned seventeen too! Being able to get into rated R movies without sweet-talking the girl selling the tickets isn't that big of an accomplishment."
I ignored Ash's rambling and rested my pounding head on the seat in front of us once again. My mouth was dry and I felt as though stomach acid was slowly making its way upwards. I tried to remember what I had done the night before but could only recall a hazy vision of Mom chasing me around my bedroom as if she wanted to hug me.
School was a complete waste of my time. All around me, my classmates, Ash included, took down studious notes in preparation for our final exams, yet I couldn't hear a word my teacher's were saying due to the insane ringing in my ears. My brain was working overtime in an effort to remember anything from the night before. It was in seventh period that an image of a group of leather-clad women flashed in front of my mind accompanied with a searing pain that made my vision go white for a second. I brought my hands to my face and clutched desperately at my thrumming forehead.
"Are you alright, man?" Ash whispered across to me, pausing in his note-taking.
"Did you guys send me a troupe of strippers last night?" I asked him. "Because their leader kind of looked like a dog."
Ash gave me an odd look. "What the hell did you do last night?" he whispered once again as if it was becoming a mantra for him, before returning his attention to pre-cal. I shook my head and gazed despondently out the window, playing absentmindedly with the student ID around my neck. "What did I do last night?" I whispered to myself.
My headache had only intensified once I got home from school. Throwing my schoolbag down on the foyer floor, I went into the kitchen, intent upon making a headache-relieving potion, when I saw a pile of presents on the kitchen counter. The bright Weasley's Wizard Wheezes wrapping paper suggested that they were from my family members, yet they were unopened, which meant that I most definitely had not spent the night of my seventeenth birthday with my grandparents.
"Mom?" I called out as my eyes lingered over my presents. No one answered my call. Figuring that she was still at work, I went to the garage, intent upon driving up to Weasley Wheezes to talk to my mother about the night before; however, upon entering the garage, I found not only my car, but my mom's car as well. She never Apparated or Flooed to work; it was full of Muggles. I ran back inside. "Mom!" I called out, running through the rooms of our house. Only silence greeted me. Mom was gone.
-------
Hermione loved Saturday mornings. She loved waking up to the sun warm on her face, and she loved lingering in bed, watching Ron sleep, one hand thrown over his eyes as he snored loudly. This Saturday was no different. The sun was shining through the curtained windows, casting a golden glow on her and Ron. Hermione carefully got out of bed so not to disturb Ron and made her way downstairs, stopping to check in on her eleven-year-old daughter on her way down.
Emma was still fast asleep, her messy mane spread across her pillows and her limbs stretching out over the bed. Hermione smiled and continued her trek down to the kitchen where she started making the morning coffee. The coffee was nearly finished when she heard a loud thump in the living room. For a moment, the hair on the back of Hermione's neck rose; then she calmed herself, telling herself that it was probably just Ron stubbing his toe on the steps or something. She entered the living room, fully expecting to see Ron clutching his foot in pain and muttering curses under his breath; however, she met a very different sight.
There on the floor and covered with soot was Hayden. He was on his knees, his head resting on the floor in front of him as his hands clutched at his dirty, auburn hair, his shoulder blades making sharp angles under his shirt.
"Hayden?" she asked, coming to kneel in front of her nephew. She reached out a hand to gently coax him into lifting his head and she was met with a pair of panicked, green eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked in a whisper, her heart beating rapidly.
"It's Mom," he replied, his voice soft and hoarse, barely comprehendible.
"What about Ginny?"
"She's…gone."
For a moment, Hermione was certain her heart had stopped beating. "Gone? Hayden, did you two have a row?"
Hayden's eyes continually shot around the room, as if he was searching for answers he didn't have. "I…" He suddenly grimaced and brought a hand to his forehead as if suffering from an intense headache. "I don't remember," he said at last. "I woke up and she wasn't there. I tried looking for her after school, but I couldn't find her. No one's seen her. She didn't go into work. She didn't leave a note. Hermione…I think something happened yesterday!"
"What happened yesterday?" she asked. She hand her arms on his shoulders, supporting him; he was shaking under her palms.
Hayden winced and clutched his forehead again, his nails scraping against his skin as if trying to dig the answers out. "I don't know!"
"Well what's the last thing you remember?"
"Mom was trying to hug me. Then she Apparated without warning." Hayden was shaking violently now, sweat dripping down his face. "A little later, the doorbell rang and I went to answer it. There were some strangely dressed women there. The one that spoke had a British accent. They asked for Mom. And then…and then…" Hayden looked up, still shaking uncontrollably; blood had begun to drip from his nose.
"Hayden!" Hermione exclaimed when she saw the blood. She immediately cupped her nephew's face with her hands. Suddenly Ron appeared behind Hayden. He tipped Hayden's head back and placed a tissue over his nose, one hand on Hayden's head for comfort. His blue eyes locked with Hermione's.
"Memory charm," he explained in a quiet voice. "Breaking through them on your own is quite painful. You okay, kid?" he asked Hayden.
Hayden, one hand holding the tissue to his nose, nodded weakly. "We have to find my mom," he mumbled.
"We will. Trust me," Ron replied, hoisting Hayden to his feet. "Go get yourself cleaned up. We'll talk afterwards."
Hayden took a few steps toward the bathroom, then turned around and looked at them, his shoulders hunched. "Thanks," he muttered before disappearing down the hall and into the bathroom. Hermione glanced up at Ron.
"You're taking this quite calmly."
Ron shrugged.
"I'm worried, yeah. But I also know my sister. This isn't the first sticky situation she's been in. She can take care of herself. Right now we have to focus on staying calm for Hayden's sake and figuring out what to do next. Especially where Harry's concerned."
"Do you think Hayden knows about Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," Ron said at length, scratching the back of his neck. "Hayden's a smart kid and it's not like we've been careful about not mentioning Harry around him. The problem is that Harry needs to know about this and I don't think either of them are ready to see each other yet."
"So what are we going to do?"
"Well right now we're going to make breakfast because I'm starving and I can't think on an empty stomach." And with that, Ron walked into the kitchen. Hermione rolled her eyes.
-------
The boy's fist connected with Harry's jaw just as Harry's own fist rammed itself into the boy's stomach. For a moment both were disoriented; then the boy recovered and kicked at Harry's knee, causing him to stumble backwards. Harry's hand reached out and grabbed a hold of the strange tags around the boy's neck, pulling him along. Harry's back met with an armchair, giving him the support he needed to stay standing and before the boy could steady himself, Harry brought the back of his fist across the boy's face, causing him to fall to the ground from the blow. Harry took a step forward once the boy hit the ground, but the boy was quick to react and latched his legs around Harry's ankle, causing Harry to fall flat on his back and knocking the wind out of him. Before Harry could catch his breath, the boy was hovering over him, sending blow after blow to Harry's face. Harry punched the boy in the stomach again and threw him backwards. The boy skidded across the floor as Harry got to his feet. The boy rose as well and for a moment, the two stood on opposite sides of the room, glaring at one another and breathing heavily before they rushed toward one another, grabbed a hold of each other's shirt and raised their fists, ready to send another blow.
"Harry! Hayden! Stop it right this instant!"
Harry's blood ran cold at the name. His eyes widened. The boy's eyes, the same deep green as his own, continued to glare at him, full of hatred. Harry released his grip on the boy's shirt and took a few steps back, blinking rapidly as Hermione came to Hayden and examined his face: his lip was cut open and bleeding and a particularly nasty bruise was already forming under his right eye.
"He…he just came after me," Harry stated dumbly.
"So you hit him back?!?" Hermione yelled, turning from Hayden to glare at Harry.
"Well, it's not like he was going to win Father of the Year anyway," Hayden commented, bringing a hand to wipe the blood that was trickling down his jaw, and Harry felt something clench in his chest. Hermione turned back to Hayden, anger flashing in her eyes.
"You knew he was your father? You attacked your own father!?"
Hayden shrugged and plopped down in a nearby armchair. "I have no father," he muttered and Harry winced.
"HAYDEN JAMES WEASLEY!" Hermione bellowed.
"No, Hermione, it's okay," Harry stated. "I deserved that."
"Hermione, what's going…oh…I see you two have met." Ron was at the foot of the stairs, his eyes going from Hayden to Harry. "Believe me, mate, this wasn't how we planned for this to happen."
"I…" Harry broke off and looked questioningly at his friends and then down at his seventeen-year-old son. "What's going on? Where's Ginny?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.
"Now Harry, don't lose your head or anything but…Ginny's missing."
"Missing?" Harry's eyes immediately shot toward Hayden for an explanation.
"All I know is that some ugly bitches were looking for her. Well, actually, only one of them was ugly. And it was only her face. She had a really nice body and…"
"Why didn't you protect your mother?" Harry snapped. Hayden's eyes immediately narrowed.
"I was kind of unconscious at the time. Besides, they could do magic and I can't. What was I supposed to do? Hit them with my magic stick?"
Harry winced, realizing that he probably wasn't making the best impression.
"I'm sorry; I wasn't blaming you."
"It sure sounded like it."
"Hayden!" Hermione reprimanded yet again. Her face softened as she turned toward Harry. "Hayden's not a legal adult in the Muggle world," she explained. "So he'll be staying with us until Ginny resurfaces. We just…we just thought you should know."
Harry nodded and glanced over at his son who was staring lugubriously into the fire, absentmindedly wiping blood from his lip.
"We'll leave you two alone for a bit to get better acquainted," Ron stated, coming forward and taking Hermione's hand. "Try not to kill each other."
Harry sent a panicked look at his friends' retreating backs; the last thing he wanted was to be alone with Hayden. He had no idea how to act or what to say, and he feared that there was nothing he could say or do to make up for his seventeen-year absence.
Once Ron and Hermione had left, he turned back towards Hayden. The boy was still slouched down in the armchair and staring into the fire. He had pulled the collar of his shirt up and was currently pressing it to his cut lip, trying to stifle the flow of blood.
"I can heal that if you want," Harry stated, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Hayden. Hayden flinched as though Harry were pointing a gun at him instead of a wand. "Sorry," Harry quickly apologized, pocketing his wand. The boy relaxed once more, but continued to glare at him.
"You hate me," Harry continued quickly. "And I don't blame you. I'd hate me too." Harry had no idea what he was saying; his mind was reeling, everything was happening too fast and a part of him had no idea what was going on while another part of him was already planning on starting an investigation to find Ginny. "I want to make things right between us. If you'd let me." Harry held out his hand.
Hayden stared at the outstretched hand for what seemed like an eternity before getting up and walking away without a word. Harry's hand remained suspended in the air after Hayden left the room. He suddenly realized how Draco must have felt that first day on the train when he had offered his own hand. Rejection was a bitch.
End Author's Note: Okay, I have a few things to address.
I'm sorry it took so long to get this out (almost a year I think)! After I posted Chapter 2, I went through several months where I stopped writing all together. Then when I started writing again, I had to figure out where I was going with this. Plus, these chapters are much, much longer than my usual chapters; therefore, they take more time to punch out. I originally planned for this chapter to be longer, actually. Like much longer. But then I decided to cut it in half and have the rest occur in the next chapter.
Someone asked if the triplets should be a year younger than Callie and Hayden because Ginny was three months along at Ron and Hermione's wedding. Well…Hermione became pregnant on her honeymoon. I see Ron and Hermione as the type who would jump right into having kids…in this fic at least. So the triplets are born in August, three months after Hayden was born. So Callie, Hayden and the triplets are all in the same year.
I don't know if anyone thought this, but when I said central America. I meant central time. As in the time zone. They live in the mid west of the U.S. Another reason why I stuck them there is that it's not as populous as the coasts and that way Ginny would be the only registered witch for miles around. But really, you guys can imagine them where ever you want. You can stick them up in Alaska for all I care. The story's going to more or less take place in Britain now where it belongs, so it really doesn't matter.
Yeah, I think that's all I wanted to say. I'm going to bed now.