By: Chinese Fireball
Author's Note: My deepest apologies for posting this chapter in such an untimely manner. I have been quite busy with school and homework, so my writing had been, unfortunately, pushed back in priorities. Furthermore, I have been vacationing in New Orleans (Mardi Gras) and Cancún (Reading Week/Spring Break) for the last fortnight and have been away from my laptop for most of that time. It is in my hopes that the length of this chapter would appease and be a justifiable excuse for you in forgetting about the long wait.
While writing this chapter, I encountered a plot hole that needed to be solved: how to get all the Weasley men back into The Burrow for an extended period of time. I just hope that my explanation is plausible and most importantly realistic in execution. The author also apologises for the amount of eye rolling in this story, especially from Ginny, most eye rolling moment have been edited out, but I couldn't get rid of all of them. As always reviews would be most appreciated. Enjoy!
Acknowledgements: My heartfelt appreciation for all those who read and reviewed my previous chapter. Special recognition goes to (listed in alphabetical order) Diogene's Lamp (clever name), HiddenFlame42, Rubber-duckiesofdoom (love that name), Sevent eaven, and Stiltzkin for reading and reviewing everything I have written. Seeing your reviews always put a smile on my face and I look forward to them for every story that I have posted. Honourable mentions goes to RavenEcho for being the first reviewer, Hexnut from the Quill (thanks for the constructive review) and henrietta-Black for reviewing some of my previous works.
To obeetaybee, thanks for reviewing, I confess that I'm an avid R/Hr and a blah H/G shipper too. I was compelled to write this because the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. Furthermore, my previous four stories have been R/Hr and I thought that it was time for something different (blasphemy! I know). However, there will be an undercurrent of R/Hr in this story, what can I say? I can't go against my nature. To my anonymous reviewer Mesa, in answer to your question this story takes place before the trio's seventh year as mentioned in my previous author's note. I reckon that I should have mentioned that somewhere in my prologue too, because I realised that not everyone read author's notes. Perhaps, you were confused about what I wrote in my summary, because of the limited character spacing allowed on this website, it was more economical in writing 'Year 6.5' and 'Pre HBP' than 'the summer before seventh year' and 'Post OotP' respectively.
Thanks to hey em yes and alchemilla for reviewing, your reviews are no less important and greatly appreciated. Thanks for reviewing everyone!
And you can fight a hundred battles without disaster.
Chapter One: Telling Hermione Granger
Harry Potter tossed and turned in his bed trying to get any semblance of sleep, hearing the last taunting words of his girlfriend resonating in his sleepless mind. "Good night Harry." Ginny's voice echoed in his mind as he tossed on his bed. "Or at least try to have one." Her cheeky voice reverberated. Harry groaned slightly, flipping on his stomach, hoping that it would help him to sleep - it didn't. He couldn't believe the gull of his girlfriend, declaring a moratorium on any and all form of sexual contact until he told her family and best mates about their secret relationship, which was a euphemism for saying ritual suicide.
"Hey Harry." A hand touched his shoulder, jerking him into reality. "Are you all right?" Harry gasped and in one fluid motion, he grabbed his wand under his pillow and pointed it at the intruder. He saw a pair of familiar cobalt blue eyes dilated with surprise. "Whoa there mate, it's me Ron," proclaimed the redhead, raising his hands in capitulation.
"Sorry there mate," mumbled Harry sleepily, while putting his wand back under his pillow. "You just startled me is all," said Harry, sitting up lethargically.
"Yeah, I reckoned as much," replied Ron, his voice laced with concern. "Would you like to talk about it?" He asked, sitting down on Harry's bed.
"Not really."
Harry felt a tad tense as Ron's cobalt blue eyes probed into his emerald green ones. There's a well-known Muggle saying: that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Harry wasn't sure if the Wizarding World had an equivalent or similar saying, but he was afraid that his best mate would see that he'd been harbouring secret desires towards his baby sister in his eyes, so he quickly averted his gaze. He had expected that at any second, Ron's hands would be around his throat muttering profanities that his mother wouldn't have approved directed at him. He lowered his eyes to his bed, still feeling Ron's eyes probing at him, he felt so uncomfortable that he was about to confess when Ron spoke first.
"Harry, is it a nightmare or your scar?" His best mate asked sheepishly.
"No," answered Harry much too quickly, while letting go of his breath that he didn't know that he was holding. He felt so relieved that Ron hadn't seen the fear or desire in his eyes for his baby sister - that he hadn't read his soul. "Though I wish it was a nightmare." He mumbled that titbit to himself.
"What was that?"
"It's nothing," replied Harry, much too quickly for Ron's taste, because he still saw the concern look in his best mate's eyes. "I just can't seem to sleep that's all, too much on my mind," replied Harry sincerely.
"Well, as long as you're all right." The redhead smiled reassuringly. Ron knew better to never ask about Harry's wellbeing a second time when he clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he kept his concerns to himself, which Harry was grateful for. Harry wasn't sure if he could explain to his best mate what he had been really thinking about and survive telling it.
"Thanks Ron," replied Harry, smiling in return.
"Well, as long as you're awake, would you like to join Charlie and me for a run?" Ron asked.
For the first time since Ron 'woke' him up, he noticed that his best mate was donning blue running shorts, a white shirt and trainers. Looking out the window, he noticed that the sky was still dark. "What time is it?" Harry mumbled.
"Almost five," replied Ron nonchalantly, while looking at his wristwatch. Harry groaned inwardly, wondering how anyone can wake up at such an ungodly hour, especially Ron who was known infamously for sleeping in. "So how about it?"
"Sure why not," mumbled Harry, shrugging his shoulders, getting out of bed. "I don't think I'm going to get anymore sleep." He said, scrounging through his trunk for suitable clothing for running. "I'll be down in a few minutes," muttered Harry, while finding a pair of black shorts.
"All right," replied Ron. "Charlie and I will be waiting for you outside," said Ron, getting up. "Just make sure you're quiet so you won't wake up the whole house. You don't want to see Ginny when she doesn't get enough sleep," replied Ron jokingly, he thought about it for a moment before shuddering like someone screamed the Dark Lord's name. "It's scary," replied Ron, shivering again before leaving the room and shutting the door behind.
Ever since Ron was accepted as Keeper for the House team during their fifth year, he had been running during the off season and played countless mock Quidditch games on a daily basis to hone his senses. It is the only time that Harry would see Ron up and about so early before the crack of dawn; otherwise Ron would be dead to the world until at least noon.
Putting on his white trainers, he did some preliminary stretches to loosen his body and headed down the stairs, avoiding the ones that squeaked and headed out the front door where he saw Ron and his older brother Charlie stretching.
"Morning Harry," smiled Charlie, much too brightly for Harry's taste.
"Morning Charlie," mumbled Harry in return. He didn't think that it was possible for anyone to be so cheery so early in the morning. "I still can't believe that you're still doing this Ron," said Harry, through a stifled yawn.
"Well, you get use to it." Ron smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "You ready?"
"Yeah."
"Great let's go." Charlie said, leading the way.
Unlike walking, the thing about running is that one focused on the task and goal at hand so talking is usually kept at a minimum. Meaning one is virtually alone with their thoughts constantly and Harry had many of them. They ran for several moments in a comfortable pace and serenity, Harry on the other hand had to run twice as quickly to keep up with his running companions' long legs.
"Hey Charlie," said Harry, breaking the silence. "I didn't get the chance to congratulate you on your promotion to Deputy Director of the Welsh Dragon Colony." He said, noting his unusual presence in the country. It was odd to see The Burrow filled to the brim with everyone there, because Harry had expected a quiet fortnight when he was picked up yesterday.
"Thanks," replied Charlie, through evenly panted breaths. "Mum's happy that I'm finally living in the country so she could keep an eye on me." He replied with a smile.
"That and to nag you about getting married and giving her loads of grandchildren," added Ron cheekily, while ducking an attempted smack on the back of his head form his older brother. "What it's true isn't it?" He asked, feigning innocence. In his peripheral vision, Harry could see Ron unsuccessfully hiding an all-knowing smirk.
"Just you wait until Mum expects the same thing from you," warned Charlie with a wry chuckled. It wasn't a well kept secret that Mrs Weasley wanted grandchildren and is currently focusing all her energy at her three eldest children. It was odd to see The Burrow with all their children present, especially when over half of the Weasley children have already moved out and living on their own.
The recently newly appointed Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones had been reorganising the internal structure of the Ministry including the ministry housing situation, so Percy had to move back temporary with his parents until the Ministry could find a more suitable place for him to live. Charlie was staying at The Burrow until he could find a suitable place to live in Wales where he now worked. Bill on the other hand, had to get his house cleansed from the Pest Control from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures when he left an unnoticed Bundimun infection in his house during his last trip to Egypt. Fred and George, on the other hand, lived above their shop, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes at number 93 Diagon Alley, but they hate to cook, so they would Apparate to The Burrow for their mother's most excellent home cooking at least twice a day, so they seem to be always there.
With the silence and tranquillity, Harry thoughts slowly ebbed from the full house to his current dilemma with his girlfriend and her family. In his peripheral vision, he saw the shorter, but broader Charlie beside him and the taller and lankier Ron on the other side, when a thought occurred to him: he could kill two birds with one stone. Although he and Ginny had agreed to talk to Hermione first to set a plan in motion before they attempted to tell anyone, Harry still didn't see the harm in telling them the truth first.
"Hey Ron?" Harry asked, panting slightly, breaking the silence for the second time.
"Yeah Harry," said Ron, shifting his eyes towards him.
When he saw Ron's cobalt blue eyes, his imagination quickly took the better of him. He imagined seeing those cobalt blue eyes turn from their natural rest to an icy anger, filled with an all-consuming blue fire. So, what little courage he had evaporated like water under his possible irate gaze. On top of that, he wasn't sure how Charlie would react to the news, of all the Weasleys, he knew him the least. "Nothing, I forgot." Harry quickly answered through panting breaths.
"All right," said Ron, shrugging the comment off, like water off an otter's back.
From then on, Harry decided to keep his mouth shut while leaving the planning to more suitable people, namely Hermione. He wondered when and how he would get Hermione alone with Ginny. After some time of thinking, he decided to talk to Hermione with Ginny after breakfast when most of the Weasley men were at work, since it was Monday. His only problem was getting rid of Ron so the three of them could be alone. His mind ran through several scenarios, but none of them pan through. He didn't know how long he was running, but in his peripheral vision, he saw the sun rising over the horizon. Suddenly, he realised how tired he was getting.
"Er... guys." Harry broke the silence for the third time between heavy breaths. "I don't think I could go much further," said Harry, panting harder as a stitch in his side was forming and his legs felt as heavy as lead, but to his surprise his running companions seemed unaffected.
"Come on Harry." Charlie encouraged with a slight smile. "We've only done two kilometres; we have eight more to go." He added encouragingly.
"Ten kilometres!" Harry exclaimed. "We're running ten kilometres!"
"Yeah, didn't I tell you?" Ron asked innocently.
"No," replied Harry venomously. "Had I known I would be running ten kilometres I would have at least tried to go back to sleep, even if it was a hopeless cause." He added.
"Sorry Harry." The tall redhead apologised, though it seemed insincere because the ends of his mouth were twitching into a smile. Harry didn't give it a second thought that they would be running long distances when Ron invited him on a morning run, but now he would know better. "I thought I told you." Ron added, as he stopped and jogged on the spot. "Do you want me to come back with you to The Burrow?"
"No," replied Harry, shaking his head, stopping suddenly. "Finish your run." He panted, putting his head between his knees, breathing heavily. "I think I could walk back on my own," said Harry, urging his redheaded friend away. This was the perfect moment for him to think about his situation that Fate had put him in.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, go ahead." Harry urged, shooing Ron away. "Charlie is getting ahead of you."
Ron turned his head around to see that Charlie was indeed ahead of him. "All right, see you back at home," said Ron, chasing after his older brother.
Harry stood upright, took a deep breath and sighed. "Barking, the both of them." He mumbled, shaking his head as he walked towards The Burrow enjoying the early morning sun. "Ten kilometres every morning, bloody crazy the lot of them, but Godric help me, I love them... especially the youngest one," add Harry, grinning stupidly.
Everything seemed so quiet and peaceful that he totally forgot that there were parts of England this beautiful and serene. Unlike running, the thing about walking is that it's more retrospective, where one could take in everything and one could stop and smell the roses as it were, while allowing the mind to wonder. In the distance, he could hear the morning larks chirping their dawning songs and feel the cool breeze osculating his overheated body. His heartbeat slowed down and his body cooled off as he made the slow trek towards The Burrow.
Unfortunately, with all the serenity and tranquillity, his present dilemma evaporated into the realm of freedom and serendipity, like the morning mist rolling off a lake. He had never felt this way, at peace - even as a child, so it was understandable that he had forgotten that he had to figure out a way to distract Ron long enough so that he and Ginny could talk to Hermione in private. He didn't want Ron finding out his relationship with his baby sister until they came up with a plan where he would continue to be 'The Boy who Lived'.
Reality didn't hit him until he saw the crazy, law defying house, which he considered his second home. He was whistling a Muggle tune, enjoying the solitude, when everything from last night came crashing through, like two male Erumpents battling for dominance. He swore inwardly for being so forgetful, with a laborious sigh, he entered the house. Harry dashed towards the loo, took a quick shower and changed into more appropriate clothing. As he made his way downstairs, he smelled and then heard Mrs Weasley before actually seeing her.
"Good Morning Harry." Mrs Weasley smile cheerfully, before returning her attention in making breakfast while humming a tune that Harry couldn't place. "You're up early." She noted, pouring Harry a strong steaming cup of tea. "Dear child, didn't you sleep well last night?" She gasped, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
"No," confessed Harry, "too many things on my mind."
Mrs Weasley smiled supportively and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm here for you if you need me." She replied genuinely, her brown eyes radiating with serenity and maternal love.
"Thanks Mrs Weasley." He smiled weakly. Harry wanted to tell her everything, but he had no idea how or where to begin. 'How does one tell a mother that you're dating her only daughter for the last eight and a half months? How will she react?' He thought as the redheaded matriarch had already made her way back to the stove, focusing on a breakfast fit for a small army.
He was in a deep meditative trance, thinking of everything and nothing in particular while nursing his cup of tea. Peripherally, he witnessed the Weasley men traipsing down the rickety stairs one by one, echoing their morning salutations. Then the running duo entered from their ten-kilometre run and headed upstairs towards the loo to take a much needed shower. Suddenly, two identical cracks emanating, revealing the twins, as they Apparated in. They gave their mother a salutatory kiss on the cheek, stealing a couple slices of bacon before taking their places on the kitchen table. Then the girls came traipsing down with bright and cheerful smiles. Harry did a double take when he saw his girlfriend; she looked so angelic in the morning light, radiating like the morning sun.
"Morning Harry," greeted Ginny, smiling innocently, taking the vacant seat across from him. Harry noticed that she seemed surprisingly well rested and cheery. He grunted his response, taking a sip of his tea. "Sleep well Harry?" She asked innocently.
"No," said Harry pointedly, "too many things on my mind."
"Like what?" Hermione asked musingly, while pouring a glass of pumpkin juice.
"Stuff," replied Harry enigmatically.
"Such as?"
Harry started to open his mouth, when he saw Ginny giving him a nervous plea not to start their plan right now in front of everyone. He reluctantly agreed that this was not the right place or time for this particular conversation either, especially with the Weasley brood surrounding him. Leaning over towards Hermione, he whispered ever so quietly that he would tell her later. Then he looked around the table quickly, hoping that his subterfuge had gone unnoticed, which thank Merlin it did.
He quickly wished he hadn't said that, because during the rest of breakfast Hermione was giving him worried glances across the breakfast table. Moments later, Charlie came down conservatively dressed for work with a smile on his face and took his seat at the breakfast table. Five minutes later, Ron came down dressed in his favourite worn-out jeans and Chudley Cannons shirt, but unlike his running partner, he was muttering to himself, the fringes of his hair stuck to his forehead still wet. Harry surmised that his older brother beat him to the shower and suppressed a grin as he sat down giving a grumpy greeting, his mood suddenly changed when he saw his mother's cooking.
"Mum, everything looks great." Ron complimented his mother's cooking while surveying the mountain of food, which magically somehow, didn't break the table from its weight. "I'm so famished." He declared, scooping copious amounts of scramble eggs on his plate.
"What else is new?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. "You're always hungry."
"Hey, I'm a growing boy!" Ron exclaimed, nicking a few slabs of bacon from her plate.
"Ron, you're such a child," chastised Hermione playfully, while replacing the bacon that Ron stole back on her plate, and to prove her point, Ron stuck his tongue. Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes, while unsuccessfully suppressing a chuckle under her breath. Harry couldn't help, but to chuckle at their traditional friendly bantering over breakfast too, they did it on a nearly daily basis that if it didn't happen, he found himself having a rotten day.
Breakfast was a rowdy affair at The Burrow, at any given moment there would be at least three or four conversations happening simultaneously. An argument may happen spontaneously, usually about Quidditch and the occasional fight over the sports section of the Daily Prophet. Sometimes there may be a brief food fight and on rare occasions, a member of the family may play victim to one of the twins' inventions.
Harry observed all this very closely feeling comfortable in the warmth and smiled inwardly at the redheaded brood. Breakfast at the Dursleys was the complete opposite, it was quiet, aristocratic, conversations were shallow, and the only time there was yelling at the breakfast table was when his Uncle Vernon yelled at him for one reason or another.
While enjoying the euphoric moment, a sudden malignant thought entered his mind, how many of these passionate redheads would like to kill him or at least torture him because he had been secretly courting their baby sister. He knew that Ginny loved all of them and they all loved her with a passion to the point of being overprotective of her - especially Ron. He wondered if the Weasley stubbornness and temper increase with each consecutive child, hoping that it wasn't the case.
A slight shiver tingled through his body as he thought of the validity of that particular theory, if true that would mean that Ginny would be the worst of the lot. 'Perhaps the stubbornness and temper genes are only passed down through the males of the family.' He thought hopefully. 'It certainly explains Ron.' He added, but somehow he knew that Ginny's wraith mimicked her mother's temper, which all Weasley men feared - including Mr Weasley.
The same tingle shot through his body again, he then realised that it was someone's foot travelling up his leg, getting closer to his neither region. His emerald green eyes dilated to the size of small Quaffles as he shot his head towards the girl sitting opposite him. There sitting across form him, smiling mischievously was his girlfriend playing footsies with him under the table.
'How are you?' Ginny mouthed.
Swallowing hard, Harry quickly sat straight and crossed his legs in a lotus position to avoid further contact from his sadistic and torturous girlfriend. He mouthed back to her, 'Terrified.' In more ways than one, he thought inwardly. He was terrified of being caught playing footsies under the table with Ginny's brothers surrounding him and he was terrified telling each and every member of his surrogate family of his secret love affair with Ginny. Part of him hoped that they would welcome the relationship and the other nagging part of him told him that he might not live through the following fortnight.
"Goodbye darling, see you tonight," said Mr Weasley, kissing his wife on the cheek.
"Have a good day honey."
"See you tonight mother," said Percy, mimicking his father's previous act, while his mother echoed her son's sentiments. "Thanks for breakfast." He said, approaching his father as they Disapparate together to the Ministry of Magic.
"I better get going too Mum. The goblins are a stickler for promptness," replied Bill, getting up to kiss his mother like his brother and father before him. "Breakfast was wonderful as usual." He said before Disapparating to Gringotts.
"I hate to leave too Mum, but it doesn't bode well if I'm late for my first day at work, being the Deputy Director and all, I have to set an example," said Charlie, getting up. He gave a smooch on the side of his mother's face, thanking her for a wonderful breakfast. "I'll owl if I'm going to be late for dinner," replied Charlie before Disapparating to the Welsh Dragon Colony.
"Must be going too Mum -"
"- Have to sell mayhem and chaos -"
"- To the unsuspecting," said Fred or George happily, Harry wasn't sure which. "Speaking of which, when are the four of you coming to Diagon Alley?"
"Honestly you two," chided Mrs Weasley. "Couldn't the two you find a more respectable job like working at the Ministry?" The matriarch suggested. Harry chuckled inwardly, the looks of the twins' faces to their mother's suggestion was priceless.
"Honestly woman -"
"- Who do you think we are?"
"PERCY?" They said in unison.
"Honestly, when will you two ever grow up?" Mrs Weasley chided. "You two could still take a page from your brother's book," reprimanded Mrs Weasley, shaking her head, wondering where she went wrong with those two.
"NEVER!" The twins exclaimed with identical chuckles.
Mrs Weasley sighed, shook her head, acquiescing defeat. "We'll be in Diagon Alley in one week. They just got their Hogwarts letters a few days ago. We'll be there some time in the afternoon. Your father is taking Harry to the Ministry for his Apparation test first," explained Mrs Weasley, looking at the raven-haired boy.
"George, did you hear?" Fred asked, clutching his heart in mock sympathy.
"Indeed Fred," said George, wiping a non-existent tear from his eye, looking like a proud father. "Our Ickle Harrykins is growing up."
"Yes, it seems like yesterday when he asked us how to get through to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," said Fred, conjuring a handkerchief and dabbing the corner of his eyes.
"Yes, he was so young, so delicate -"
"- And look at him now -"
"All right save the melodrama you two," exasperated Ginny, rolling her eyes at their antics.
"Well, we hope that you're not going to follow in Ickle Ronniekins footsteps here," said George, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. Ron's face suddenly turned red as he slouched further into his chair.
"Indeed, such a shame that little brother of ours," said Fred, shaking his head while placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. The shade of red on Ron's face darkened to resemble a tomato as he slid down on the chair further, wishing to disappear.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, echoing Harry's thoughts.
"Nothing." Ron mumbled under his breath.
"NOTHING!" Fred and George gasped in horror, clutching their hearts.
"Fred and George, you know very well that Ron did better than the two of you combine. He did so well that the examiner said that he did better than Percy and Bill when they took their tests," boasted Mrs Weasley proudly.
"EXACTLY!" The two resounded.
"Next thing you know, you're going to tell us that our Ickle Ronniekins got his Head Boy badge with the owls a few days ago," replied Fred, feigning disappointment.
"Shut it you two!" Ron clamoured, standing up, slamming his fist on the table. "I have enough of you two always teasing me!" He exclaimed, fuming with anger.
Harry then witnessed several things happening at the same time, Ron's right hand clenching into a tight fist showing his white knuckles, the twins staring obliviously at him matching their baby brother's stare, but with amusement in their eyes instead of anger, Harry knew an all out fight was inevitable. Stealthily, Hermione gently grasped Ron's hand to soothe his anger, like she always did when his anger threatened to boil over. It was in that moment when Harry knew that Ginny was right, that they needed to get Hermione on their side when their secret came out so she could control Ron. Mrs Weasley then stood up and was about to open her mouth when something stopped her.
"You are, aren't you!" The twins accused in unison.
"Am what?" Ron's cobalt blue eyes widen in surprise.
"Head Boy," chorused the twins, their brown eyes sparkled with delight.
"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about," stuttered Ron nervously, sitting back down, his anger quickly quelled and forgotten. His eyes darted nervously around the table not looking at anyone's face or eyes. Harry knew that his best mate was a man keeping a secret, which was about to found out. "Me, Head Boy? That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard," replied Ron nervously, chuckling uneasily.
"I am aghast!" Fred exclaimed, clutching his heart dramatically.
"I know Fred, where did we go wrong?" The younger twin bellowed, wiping a non-existent tear in his eye, shaking his head. "All our hard work down the drain."
"But then again, he did try to hide this from us," said Fred, his eyes brightening. "Very un-Head Boy like." He said, a roguish grin appearing on his face.
"He did, didn't he?" George asked, his face brightening up. "We should be cross at him for deceiving us and spoiling all our fun, dear brother, but factoring the point that he tried to pull the wool over our eyes, gives us great hope." George told his brother.
"Yes indeed, he has promise." The older twin looked into his younger brother's eyes, as they seem to communicate telepathically and nodded simultaneously at the agreement.
"We may forgive you yet!" They said in unison to his brother, laughing maniacally rolling on the floor as if they were under the influence of a Tickling Charm.
"Fred! George! Get off the floor this instant and quiet down!" Mrs Weasley chided, as the twins fumbled back onto their seats, trying to stop laughing, but failing miserably. "Now Ron, is what your brothers saying true?" She asked looking at her penultimate child, who seemed to be trembling under her stare. "Well?" She asked impatiently, raising her eyebrow.
Ron felt like he was a very small child preparing for his punishment for something that he had done. Harry chuckled to himself at that image, Ron Weasley was perhaps the tallest person in his family towering over Bill and his father by a couple of inches, but seeing him under his mother's gaze made him seem paradoxically small.
"H-h-honestly Mum, don't tell me you believe everything the twins' come up with do you?" Ron stuttered nervously, obviously fibbing.
"Ronald," chided Mrs Weasley, looking very much like the saber-toothed tiger that Harry remembered when he first came to The Burrow five summers ago.
Sighing in defeat, Ron finally answered, though it looked like he was trying to fight the Imperius Curse while doing so. "Yes mother, I'm Head Boy," mumbled Ron so quietly that Harry wasn't sure if he heard right. Suddenly, Harry heard a loud crash, Mrs Weasley jumped from her seat, knocking the chair on the floor over, and embraced her youngest son in a tight hug that rivalled the Devil Snare they encountered in their first year.
The twins were again laughing maniacally as Ron was turning a dangerous shade of purple. Harry and Ginny were also chuckling to themselves, trying to keep their laughter in, but failing miserably. The only people that weren't laughing were Mrs Weasley who was crying tears of joy, Ron who was suffocating within his mother's joy, and Hermione who's mouth was opened agape with surprise. Hermione was looking at the slowly asphyxiating redhead, wondering if she should be smothering Ron herself, but not necessarily out of pride.
"I'm so proud of you," cried Mrs Weasley, her eyes filled with tears. "Third Head Boy in the family," cheered Mrs Weasley triumphantly.
"Mum, geroff," said Ron, trying to push off his mother. "I'm can't breathe."
"Oh, sorry son," said Mrs Weasley, freeing her son from her vice-like grasp. "I'm just so happy." She added, before slapping her son on the back of the head.
"Ow!" Ron rubbed the back of his head. "Mum, what did you do that for?"
"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Mrs Weasley began her tirade, returning to her seat, picking up her chair, sitting down disapprovingly. Harry and Hermione looked at each other trying not to laugh as they mouthed the name 'Bilius?' to each other. "I didn't know whether to hug you or slap you across the head, so I did both," said Mrs Weasley, explaining her dichotic actions. "Honestly Ron, why wouldn't you tell us that you were Head Boy? Are you ashamed of being one?" She fired her questions, her checks flushed red in anger, then a split second later, not waiting for Ron to respond, she added, "Answer me boy, when I ask you a question."
"Yes I really like to know the answer to that question myself," added Hermione, her eyes glaring dangerously at the redhead.
Harry did not envy Ron his job. He was caught between, as the Muggle expression went, a rock and a hard place, and nothing is harder than an exasperated mother and an enraged Head Girl looking towards him for answers. Harry mused how uncanny Hermione resemble Mrs Weasley when upset. Meanwhile, the rest of the people at the table were watching him with baited breath, especially the twins, they had laughter in their eyes.
Sighing dejectedly, Ron began his response. "Mum, it's not that I'm not proud to be Head Boy, I am. The reason I didn't tell any of you that I was Head Boy was out of... self-preservation," said Ron, running his hand through his fiery red hair nervously.
"Self-preservation?" Hermione scoffed unconvinced.
"Yeah," said Ron sheepishly, looking into Hermione's burning bronze eyes and quickly looked away, ashamed for making her feel that way. "I have three reasons for not telling anyone," said Ron, taking a collective and cleansing breath. "Firstly, I didn't want you to overreact and make a big production of it," said Ron, looking at his mother.
"Honestly Ron, I'm your mother, I don't overreact." Mrs Weasley replied.
"Says the woman, who strangles and smacks her son in a blink of an eye," muttered one twin to the other, while the other children furtively rolled their eyes. Harry and Hermione looked at each other nervously at the matriarch's statement.
Ron cleared his throat and gave a wry smile. "Then you won't throw a party for me then, because I made Head Boy? You won't tell everyone you know like you did with Percy and Bill?" He asked, his voice dripping with misplaced hope.
"Well... it seems like such a waste," replied Mrs Weasley, her eyes pleading to her youngest son to allow her to throw a party for him. "I mean we are already throwing a party for Hermione for making Head Girl it wouldn't be a problem to -" Harry never heard what Mrs Weasley had to say, because one of the twins interrupted her.
"That's right," declared Fred, smiling mischievously. "Ickle Ronniekins' girlfriend is Head Girl."
"I'm not Ron's girlfriend!" Hermione exclaimed forcefully.
"Not now, but there is an unsaid tradition at Hogwarts that says the Heads would eventually get together, most of them are already married." George added with a mischievous grin, which paradoxically gave both credence and suspicion to the statement. Unlike his older twin, George had always been the more contemplative one and more likely to tell the truth, but when he smiled that mischievous smile that made the twins so infamous; one could never be too sure.
"Poppycock!" Hermione exclaimed. "There's no evidence to support such a supposition."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that." Fred sang.
"Quite true," added George whimsically. "There are two prime examples right here, if you need some empirical evidence," replied George, flashing a boyish grin at the bushy hair girl.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione replied, crossing her arms defiantly.
"Correct me if I'm wrong Mum, but weren't you and Dad Heads in your year?" George asked, raising his eyebrow, already knowing the answer to the question he just asked.
"We were," said Mrs Weasley politely, sipping her tea calmly, hiding the thin smile on her face.
"And Harry, weren't your parents Heads also?"
Harry sat straighter and cleared his throat trying to hide his glee. "Yeah, they were," replied Harry, smiling sheepishly at his two best friends, whom they returned with furrowed eyebrows and frowns that could petrify much more effectively than a Basilisk; they were obviously not pleased with the shibboleth of information.
Hermione eyes started to twitch, while digesting the information. "That doesn't mean anything, those are two isolated incidents." She pointed out harshly. "For an example, in this very same household there are two examples where Heads didn't get together. Bill and Percy were Heads and you don't see them dating their counterparts." Hermione spat out.
"Er... actually," began Ron tentatively, with trepidation dripping from his voice. "They are... or did. Well, Bill did, his first serious relationship was with his Head Girl and Percy is presently seeing his Head Girl." He revealed, his ear glowing, like hot iron.
"Oh," replied Hermione, blushing furiously at the revelation, but quickly recovered and resumed glaring daggers at the twins. "Well, just because 'tradition' demands it, and I'm using the term loosely and in the broadest of definitions, doesn't mean that Ron and I will get together." She furiously pointed out and was on the verge of blowing her top, seething with anger.
"Sure," sang Fred unconvincingly.
"I think the lady does protest too much." George replied sagely.
"Arugh! Why am I cursed with thick-headed Weasley men!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up and slammed her fists on the table shaking the dishes slightly. Harry noticed that Ron took a page from Hermione's book and held her arm gently to siphon her anger, like she did for him many times before. "I'm going to say this one more time, so get this through your thick skulls. I would sooner kiss the backend of a Blast-Ended Skrewt than Ron Weasley," said Hermione, enunciating each word to ensure that the twins would understand.
"Hey!" The aforementioned redhead objected as he quickly released his hand from her wrist like it suddenly burned him. "You can do a lot worse." He pointed out, crossing his arms around his chest in protest. Hermione turned to him looking at his rather hurt expression and felt ashamed for what she said and was about to explain when one of the twins interrupted her.
"I don't know Ickle Ronniekins." Fred sang. "It's really a tough call."
"I know what you mean dear brother from Viktor Krum to Ickle Ronniekins?" George quickly agreed, ignoring the loud grunt coming from Ron that sounded a lot like 'git'. "He is rather low on the list, there may be only a few things beneath him." He pointed out.
"Though it pains me to say this about a Weasley man, but I think you're right," said Fred, shaking his head melodramatically. "I could only think of one thing that is beneath our Ickle Ronniekins." He said pensively.
"Do tell dear brother."
"A Blast-Ended Skrewt."
"But brother dearest, didn't Hermione just say that she place more value on a Blast-Ended Skrewt and a backend of one at that than our dear Ickle Ronniekins?" George asked.
"She did, didn't she? Strange woman, she is."
"So Ickle Ronniekins, do you know what this mean?"
"No," replied Ron, seething dangerously, his eyes were narrow and were ready for the kill, like a Nundu stalking his prey before devouring them. "What?" His voice had a hardened edge to it.
"That there's nobody worse than you are!" The twins announced in a fit of laughter.
"Fred! George! Stop teasing your brother this instant!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "You're still not too old enough to be taken over the knee for a good spanking!" She exclaimed, glaring at them dangerously. The two sat down quietly, so not to incur the wrath of their mother.
Harry cleared his throat to diffuse the tension. "So," he wistfully began. "What was your second reason Ron?" He asked, hopefully to change the mood in the room.
"What?"
"The second reason you didn't tell us that you were made Head Boy." Harry explained.
"Isn't it obvious," said Ron, waving a hand towards the twins' general direction. "They would tease me relentlessly, like they did with Percy." He added.
"Ron, we don't need a reason to tease you, it's our favourite sport." Fred replied.
"Second to teasing Percy that is."
"Quite true," agreed Fred, nodding his head, "although the Head Boy badge gives us more material."
"It does, doesn't it?" George then turned to Ron, ignoring his dangerous stares. "We should be upset at you Ickle Ronniekins for not allowing us the pleasure to tease you -"
"- But we are also proud that you could be so sneaky -"
"- So devilish -"
"- So dubious -"
"- So like... us." George finally said. "So, you can see we are both angry and proud of you and are rather conflicted." He pointed out looking at his twin to see if they were in agreement.
"So we have agreed to take a page from our mother's book."
"You have bought yourself a slight reprieve -"
"- But I would sleep with one eye open if I were you," warned Fred teasing, smiling sinisterly.
"Don't you two have jobs that you're late for?" Ron growled.
"You know Ron, you're right! By Merlin, I never thought that those words would ever come out of my mouth. We are rather late Fred and we should be going, our customers awaits!" George exclaimed.
"Though it pains me to admit it, I really hate to leave, because I really want to see the outcome and to see how Ickle Ronniekins would get out of this, but alas, we have to work for a living." He added dramatically.
"But don't you fret Fred; we did stir the pot -"
"- And mischief managed!"
"Would you two leave already?" Ron bellowed.
"Well, I never!" Fred exclaimed scandalously. "We know when we're not wanted. Goodbye Mum." Fred said blowing a kiss at his mother.
"Thanks for the great eats." George said following his brother's action as they Disapparate to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes with two identical cracks.
"Good riddance," mumbled Ron darkly, while stabbing his bacon forcefully.
"So, what's the third reason that you didn't tell your dear old mother about you being Head Boy?" Mrs Weasley asked as she started to clear the table with a flick of her wand.
"Well..." Ron began sheepishly, looking furtively at Hermione's eyes, hoping to see how angry she was. Seeing that she was rather flustered, he swallowed hard. He wasn't sure if she was angry with him or the twins, but he summoned his Gryffindor courage and looked directly into Hermione's eyes, preparing for the worse. "You see, I didn't want anyone to know that I was Head Boy because I knew that you would want to start planing for the whole year, during what's left of our summer holidays." Ron explained to his bushy haired best friend.
"I would do no such thing, but now that you mention it -"
"Get off it Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Everyone in this room knows, yourself included that you would want to start planning things if you found out that I was Head Boy." He pointed out.
Hermione winced to herself, she hated to be so transparent, especially when Ron was right, but her rage for the certain redheaded boy overshadowed her self-hatred. "So you lied to me, to all of us, because you wanted to have fun." Her voice quivered with an undercurrent of malevolence, as she stood up taking up the offensive stature, ready for a row.
"Yes Hermione!" Ron exasperated. "We're teenagers, its summer; we're supposed to have fun!" Ron exclaimed, standing up with an equally impressive offensive stance. "Not to be stuck in a stuffy room drowning under boring paperwork." Harry and Ginny, who could sense an infamous Granger-Weasley row a mile away, stealthily got up and went into the living room where they looked at each other and sighed, shaking their heads.
"That boring paperwork as you so fondly call it, is your duty - our duty!" Hermione screeched.
"Duty!" Ron bellowed. "We're not even at school yet and you already want to start!"
"Honestly Ron, it's your duty to set an example to the Prefects and the students to -" Harry and Ginny never heard the rest of Hermione's tirade, because at that very moment Mrs Weasley, who followed them, had closed the door and cast a Silencing Charm on the door.
Mrs Weasley walked to her favourite rocking chair, picked up her knitting needles and began to start on a blue jumper - presumably one of the twins' Christmas jumpers. Everyone waited in the living room nervously for the row to end; the silence was so suffocating that Harry thought he would faint.
"Lovely weather we're having aren't we?" The knitting matriarch asked nonchalantly, interrupting Harry's thoughts, which to him, was a breath of fresh air.
"Yes, especially for England," said Harry, playing along.
"Quite true," agreed Mrs Weasley, nodding her head. "English weather could be so unpredictable at times."
"Indeed," agreed Ginny half-heartedly, but her concentration was at the locked door that lead to the kitchen. "They're so obvious aren't they?" She asked apathetically.
"About what?" Harry asked, his voice filled with confusion.
"You mean you don't see it?"
"See what?"
"Men," muttered Ginny, rolling her eyes.
"Ginny, don't fault their sex, they are a tad slow when it comes to these matters." Her mother pointed out, while picking up a stitch she dropped. "But to answer your question, I quite agree. Give them some time," replied Mrs Weasley sagely with a slight smile, while examining her work with a critical eye.
Silence reign again, while Harry pondered what his girlfriend and her mother was talking about. He watched silently as Mrs Weasley knitted two more rows, before Harry spoke, "So, Mrs Weasley is that jumper for Fred or George?" He asked, remembering that the twins always got blue jumpers for Christmas.
"Why Harry whatever do you mean?" Mrs Weasley asked, feigning ignorance.
"Harry, don't mind Mum," replied Ginny, rolling her eyes. "Mum likes to think that she's fooling everyone when she's obviously working on our Christmas presents."
"Is this what I'm working on?" Mrs Weasley asked in mock surprise.
"See what I mean?" Ginny asked rhetorically.
"So, what are you two kids planing to do today?" She asked, hoping to change the subject.
Harry felt his heart jumped to his throat, his mind was betraying him, because he couldn't formulate a simple plan or lie. In his peripheral vision, he saw that Ginny was wearing the same expression. He was mentally pleading for Ginny to say something - anything. When no answers were forthcoming from her, he opened his mouth, but he was saved when Hermione barged into the living room like a mad woman.
"Of all the insolent, insufferable, inconsiderate things to do," mumbled Hermione, storming in.
"What did the prat of my brother do this time?" Ginny asked.
"He Disapparated in the middle of our argument!" Hermione exclaimed. "If he thinks he can get away with that he has another thing coming!" She threatened vehemently, as she headed towards the Weasley grandfather clock.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.
"To see where he went and follow him to finish our argument," replied Hermione, while examining the Weasleys' Family Clock. Harry was amazed that even through her anger; his bushy haired best friend could think logically, he wouldn't have thought to go to the Weasleys' Family Clock to see where Ron had Apparated, if he were in her place.
All the arms were pointing to 'Work' except for three arms. The hands that were inscribed 'Molly' and 'Ginevra' were pointing to 'Home'. The sole arm that wasn't pointing to those two was Ron's which was presently pointing to 'Travelling'. Hermione held her breath as the arm slowly moved from 'Travelling' past 'Work' to 'Unplottable'.
"Unplottable?" Hermione exclaimed, looking at Harry. "What in Bloody Hell does that mean?"
"I-I-I don't know," confessed Harry sheepishly, being slightly afraid of Hermione. He knew that she must be really angry with Ron, because Harry had never, ever heard Hermione swore before. Hermione was always a model of civility; she was not just an example to Ron and him, but to the rest of the school as well. She was in short, a paragon of wholesomeness and sophistication, but to hear her swear made him nervous.
"It means one of two things," interjected Mrs Weasley, ignoring Hermione's profanities. "That Ron either Apparated to somewhere protected by an Unplottable Ward, like the Order's Headquarters, or that he cast an Unplottable Charm on himself." The matriarch explained. "A very difficult charm indeed." Harry thought that he heard some pride in Mrs Weasley's voice.
"Damn him." She cursed under her breath. "He's lucky that I don't know where he is or I would hex him so hard that his grandchildren could still feel it," muttered Hermione darkly. She stormed out of the room, leaving a very shocked trio in her wake. Harry could hear her stomping on each step and later a door slamming, presumably to her room and then a stifled yell.
Harry smiled to himself, shaking his head impressively, it seems that Hermione was not the only one that could think clearly under pressure, but Ron had that ability as well. He was pleasantly surprised by that revelation. He had severely underestimated his best mate as his other best mate did - something he would never do ever again.
"Well, I best be getting back to the kitchen," said Mrs Weasley, getting up like nothing had happened, while putting her knitting away. "The dishes won't wash themselves," surmised Mrs Weasley, heading into the kitchen.
With Mrs Weasley's departure the lovebirds were left alone for the first time since last night. Once again silence enveloped the living room, not out of anticipation, but of awkward sexual tension. It was so nerve racking that Harry didn't know whether to run away or jump her then and there.
"So," Harry nervously chuckled.
"So," Ginny replied smiling sweetly. "Ready to tell Hermione?"
"Now?" Harry gasped at the suggestion. He was sure that his face was white with fear. "Are you daft?" He muttered without thinking.
"Certainly not!" Ginny exclaimed. "It's the perfect time. Everyone's at work and thanks to Hermione, Ron is out of the house." She pointed out.
Harry cursed under his breath, Ginny was right. Hermione had done what he was planing to do when the time came to get rid of Ron. "But now?" Harry asked. "Shouldn't we wait until she cooled down slightly?" He pointed out.
"Normally, I would agree with you, but we have no idea how long Ron would be away," replied Ginny sagely. "The quicker we get Hermione on our side, the more time we have to plan and the sooner you would enjoy my company," replied Ginny teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"Speaking of which, you've been a naughty girl," replied Harry seductively. "What were you doing to me at breakfast? I thought you said that there would be no more contact between us until we tell your family about us." He pointed out.
Ginny not to be outplayed walked dangerously close to his personal space. "Harry," replied Ginny voluptuously. "I didn't say that there wouldn't be any contact," said Ginny, tracing his chin with her finger, while leaning dangerously close to his mouth. "I just said that there would be no more kisses until my family knows about us. I never said that I would stop flirting." She said with a mischievous smile, tapping Harry's nose with her index finger and quickly walked off. "Coming Harry?" She asked, skipping away.
"She's going to be the death of me," groaned Harry, shaking his head with frustration, "but what a way to go." A goofy grin cracked across his face, which he quickly took off when he entered the kitchen where Mrs Weasley was cleaning. He didn't want to explain to Mrs Weasley why he was smiling so queerly, not just yet any ways, so he quickly followed Ginny, heading to the girls' room, giving Mrs Weasley a salutatory nod on his way up.
"Ready?" Ginny whispered.
"As ready as I'll ever be." Harry responded, while gently knocking on the door.
"Go away!" An angry voice emanated from within.
Harry swallowed hard at the timbre of her voice; he shakily took a breath before continuing. "H-H-Hermione, its Ginny and I, we want to talk," stuttered Harry nervously.
"Arugh!" The duo heard Hermione groaned within, followed by angry steps getting closer towards the door. The door flung open with such a vengeance that Harry thought the door would fall off the hinges. "First of all Harry, I'm not in the mood to talk! Secondly, what part of 'go away' don't you understand! And lastly, it's 'Ginny and me' not 'Ginny and I' in that particular sentence you and Ginny are subjects not objects!" She exclaimed, while poking Harry in the chest with her finger with all her might.
"Err... thanks for the English lesson, Hermione," replied Harry tentatively, hoping not to enrage Hermione further. Her face was flushed with anger and ready for the kill. Swallowing hard again, Harry continued slightly with more confidence. "I just wanted to tell you about what kept me up all night, remember this morning at breakfast I told you that I would explain later? Well, it's later." He sheepishly added with a nervous smiled.
"O-o-of course Harry." Hermione's flustered face suddenly turned soft and understanding. "Please come in," said Hermione, opening the door so they could enter. "I'm sorry about taking my anger out on you." She apologised, as she lay on her bed, feeling slightly frustrated. "It's not you, it's just..."
"Ron?"
"Yeah," exasperated Hermione, hiding her face in her hands. "I don't know why, but no man could push my buttons like that man could!" She exclaimed with frustration, "but then again, no one could make me smile or laugh like he could either." She mused with a slight smile on her face. "Arugh! He drives me so crazy! Sometimes I think we make up so we could just get into another row!" She exclaimed feeling extremely frustrated.
"Clueless," muttered Ginny under her breath, shaking her head slightly, taking a spot beside Harry on her bed. Harry turned to her and was about to ask what she meant by that, when Hermione spoke before he could.
"I'm sorry," said Hermione, sitting up, facing her friends. "I didn't mean to rant, especially when the two of you came to me with your problems."
"No need to apologise, I know how infuriating Ron can get," replied Ginny, smiling sympathetically.
Hermione chuckled slightly at the comment and then her face suddenly turned sombre. "So Harry, it's not a nightmare or your scar acting up, is it?" She asked quickly, her voice laced with concern.
"No, nothing like that," replied Harry, suppressing a chuckle, he wondered how his two best mates could come to the same conclusions. "It's something more... blissful." He finally said, taking Ginny's hand in his, lacing his fingers with hers. "You see, we wanted to tell you that we're together," replied Harry sheepishly, his face was so red that he would have made a Weasley proud.
Harry thought that he knew Hermione very well at least more than most, but to see Hermione's reaction to their news, questioned everything he had ever known about his bushy haired best friend. Hermione squealed so high that he thought dogs could only hear it. Then Hermione danced around witlessly with Ginny with glee and giggling, as if laughter was her oxygen. It was the most un-Hermione thing he had ever seen her do. He never thought that he would see the level-headed, reserved, and proper bookworm squealing and giggling like Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.
"Congratulations!" Hermione beamed with glee, her earlier row with Ron forgotten as she hugged them both so hard that it rivalled Mrs Weasley's. "I'm so happy for you!" She smiled, finally letting go of her embrace with tears of joy in her eyes.
"Thanks," said Ginny, smiling brightly. "We're very happy."
"That's great!" Hermione beamed. "I always thought you two would get together."
"Really?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised.
Hermione and Ginny looked at each other giving each other a certain look that was difficult for Harry to explain, but he knew one thing, they were thinking the same thing. "Men!" They uttered, rolling their eyes at their density.
"What?" Harry asked indignantly.
"Never mind," replied Hermione airily. "If you don't know, you'll never would."
"Whatever," replied Harry nonchalantly. "We do have a small problem that we think that you could help us with."
"Oh?" Hermione said, raising her eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Well..." Harry began tentatively. "You see... we don't know how to tell..."
"Ron?" Hermione finished. Harry nodded. "Yes, I could see how that could be a problem."
"Tell me about," exasperated Ginny, rolling her eyes. "When he found out that I was dating Michael Corner he showed up with a mysterious black eye the next day and when he found out that I was seeing Dean Thomas on the train during my fourth year..." Ginny lingered, shaking her head, not wanting to finish the sentence.
"What another black eye?" Harry asked, slightly nervous. He wondered how many ways his best mate could harm and maim him when he hears the news of Ginny and him being together.
"No, broken nose," reported Ginny dully, shaking her head. "I saw Dean afterwards on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters nursing a broken nose that he claims that he got by walking into a sliding door on the train." She explained. "A door named Ron Weasley that is." She added offhandedly.
"It's not just Ron," added Harry severely, he felt the need to defend his best mate while simultaneously hoping that he wouldn't get similar treatments to Ginny's ex-boyfriends. "We want to tell the rest of the family, but we don't know how to." He pointed out. "Ron is just the biggest obstacle." He quickly added.
"Yes, I could see how that could be a problem with six older brothers, who probably learned their overprotective behaviour from their father." Hermione pondered out loud.
"Tell me about it," replied Ginny, rolling her eyes. "Growing up, I couldn't do anything on my own without one of them fretting over me." She pointed out.
"I didn't know Mr Weasley was overprotective." Harry interrupted.
"Harry, all fathers are overprotective of their children, especially daughters, and especially the youngest one. It's your rotten luck that Ginny had to fall in all three categories." Hermione pointed out as if it was common knowledge, but she instantly mentally smacked herself, because Harry never really knew his father, so he wouldn't know how a typical father would react, because he never had one. "I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean it that way." She quickly apologised.
"It's okay," said Harry, quickly forgiving her. "So do you have a plan?"
"It's quite simple really," replied Hermione, much too casually for Harry's liking. "The three of us would get together with Ron and sit him down and slowly and rationally explain everything." She raised her hand to stop Harry's objections, silently asking him to let her continue. "He may scream and pout for a while that's his prerogative, but he wouldn't dare touch you with all of us in the room. I would expect that he might brood for some time afterwards, but in time he will accept it. Then we should tell your parents, followed by the rest of the family at dinner, with Ron and your parents on our side I don't see much of a problem, but there's one slight problem with my plan." She pointed out. "We have to wait until Ron cools down first and with the row we just had, it could take weeks," sighed Hermione, flopping herself on her bed.
"Actually Hermione, it's a tad more complicated than that."
"Why is that?"
"Well, that plan is well and good if Ginny and I recently got together, but we have been going out for quite some time now," replied Harry sheepishly.
"How long?" Hermione asked, stressing both words in a solemn tone.
Harry looked at Ginny for some strength and back to Hermione under her penetrating brown eyes. "Nine months, this first of September," said Harry timidly, he quickly closed his eyes, expecting a loud lecture - he wouldn't be disappointed.
"Nine months!" Hermione exclaimed. "You've been seeing each other for nine months! Ron's not just going to hit you; he's going to murder you! Forget that he'll murder me too for knowing and not telling him! I can't have him angry at me at this time, I just can't! We're already in a middle of a row! We can't start another one!" She cried, pacing nervously. "Why didn't you tell him nine months ago! Why didn't you tell me!" She exclaimed, feeling slightly hurt that they hid this secret form her too.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," replied Harry soothingly, hoping to calm her down. "You're the first one to know." He pointed out, leaving out the fact that he told Remus Lupin in a letter when they first got together. Harry didn't think it would go all too well if he gave out that shibboleth away.
"Really?" She said, raising her eyebrow. "You're probably telling me first, because you two couldn't think of a way in telling your family without having them kill Harry in the process," replied Hermione, still feeling a tad miffed at them for not telling her about their relationship sooner.
"Well -" Harry started to concede.
"We're really sorry Hermione," said Ginny, interrupting Harry's confession. "We should have told you much sooner, told Ron and everybody much sooner too, but we made a mistake and we know that we probably hurt you in the process, but that's in the past," explained Ginny patiently. "Now that you know, we really need your help in telling the whole family without much incident, especially with Ron," pleaded Ginny, hoping that Hermione would come to her senses soon.
"Well, the two of you are in a real pickle and I enjoy a puzzle, so I forgive you," replied Hermione, while she began pacing. In her mind, she was creating and destroying several scenarios in her mind. "Do you really want my best advice?" She asked rhetorically, while Harry and Ginny nodded. "Send an owl when the two of you elope." Hermione finally said, flopping on her bed again with frustration.
"Hermione." The lovebirds stressed sternly.
"Kidding, kidding," said Hermione reassuringly, as she pondered deeper. "This is how I see it," began Hermione cautiously. "With this new information about your relationship, I still see Ron as the biggest obstacle. Not only would he be angry with you for dating his baby sister behind his back, but he would also be hurt that you hid it from him for so long; he might even feel that you betrayed him. Harry, you should have told Ron first before anything happened." She pointed out.
"I know." Harry sighed, feeling a tad frustrated. "I tried so many times."
"I know," replied Hermione reassuringly. "The best way to subdue Ron is to get his family on your side before telling him," said Hermione, thinking out loud. "Then when you got everyone on your side, you tell Ron in front of your family, so the two of you would have support from all of us." She pointed out.
"Sounds good," said Ginny, thinking the plan over. "Who should we start with?"
"Well, you need the most powerful person in the house on your side first."
"Who, Mr Weasley?" Harry asked.
"No," replied Hermione, shaking her head. "Mr Weasley may bring home the Galleons, but he's not the boss of this house Mrs Weasley is." She pointed out.
"That's true," replied Ginny offhandedly, nodding her head. "Everyone is afraid of Mum when she's angry, even Dad."
"That's what I observe too," replied Hermione, nodding her head. "So, this is what I think, we will talk to Mrs Weasley first, then Mr Weasley and then go down through the Weasley children from the eldest down towards Ron." She spoke, thinking out loud.
"Why can't I tell them all at once? Perhaps at dinner, it seems easier to do it that way." Harry sighed, not liking Hermione's idea very much. As a child, he liked to rip off his bandages quickly then extremely slowly, though he reckoned it would hurt just the same either way.
"Harry, just because a way is quicker and easier doesn't mean it's the best course of action. You have to do what is -"
"Okay, you're right," interrupted Harry, he wasn't in the mood to hear one of Hermione's lectures. "We will take this slow. So, when's the best time to tell Mrs Weasley?"
"After lunch today," replied Ginny, "when the twins Apparate back to work. I don't think you would want an audience when telling Mum about us."
"Agreed," replied Harry, nodding his head, remembering what had happened that morning at breakfast about Ron and Hermione's fictitious relationship. 'I reckon I would get teased soon enough though,' he thought, dreading what the twins would say. "Hermione, would you distract Ron for us when Ginny and I tell Mrs Weasley?" He asked.
Hermione looked reluctant before answering, "I don't know Harry, we really had a nasty row this morning and I don't think I'm the best person to distract Ron. I think Ginny would be the better person to do that." She pointed out.
"Hermione, just apologise to Ron and get it over with," exasperated Ginny.
"Firstly, I'm not in the wrong here and I see no reason to apologise and secondly, if I did apologise we have no guarantee that Ron would accept, he is rather stubborn," ranted Hermione.
"Fine," replied Ginny with a sigh, rolling her eyes at Hermione's childish antics. She came to the realisation that it was useless to argue with Hermione, she was as pigheaded as Ron and it seemed that he was the only person in the world that could only change her mind, once her mind was set. "If the prat of my brother doesn't accept your apology, then I would distract him while you talk to my Mum," replied Ginny, looking at her boyfriend.
"Alone?" Harry squeaked, swallowing hard. He didn't fancy the prospect of telling Mrs Weasley by herself.
Ginny sensing his apprehension knew of a way to quell his trepidation. With a devilish smile she leaned into his ear she whispered seductively, "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get to snog each other senseless."
Harry's body tingled when he felt her breath on his ears. His eyes dilated when he heard her statement, her promise. "Fine," replied Harry, acquiescing defeat. "You do realise that you will be the death of me someday," replied Harry, looking longingly at his girlfriend.
"Not if my brothers get to you first," replied Ginny teasingly.
"What have I gotten myself into?" Harry moaned, flopping himself on the bed.
"Don't be so dramatic," replied Hermione, throwing a pillow at Harry. "Now get out, Ginny and I need to be alone, so we can talk - girl talk."
Harry groaned, feeling a tad unwanted and unloved. He got up and was about to kiss Ginny when she placed two fingers on his lips. He groaned again, when he remembered the moratorium that his girlfriend had placed on him. With nothing left to do, he headed to Ron's room where he flopped himself on his bed. With a laborious sigh, he turned his thoughts to the task at hand; he had a sinking feeling that it would be easier to defeat Voldemort than survive the Weasleys. He groaned again, covering his face with a pillow, dreading the inevitable.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Disclaimer: (1) Harry Potter, characters, names, and all related indicia are not my invention, but trademarks of J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers - no profit is gained from the writing of this story. (2) This is a fan fiction and as such names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination that is, those not mentioned in the previous clause and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.