A Matter of Circumstance

Chapter 4 - Disclosure

Looking at it from the dark and quiet garden, the normally whimsical home of the Weasleys somehow seemed a foreboding edifice. Harry wasn't sure if this impression was because it really was an eerie sight in the middle of the night, or if it had more to do with his reluctance to face what awaited him inside. He was a bit surprised that he had managed to Apparate to The Burrow without splinching himself. His nerves were shot and he didn't know how much more he could take.

Although he had known the Weasleys for nearly twelve years and had always been treated as another son, he was very worried about how they would react. He knew they would say it wasn't his fault, but he was afraid deep down they would really blame him. The revenge was directed at him and it was their only daughter being harmed. At the thought of all of the ruin being caused by this spell, Harry's fury toward the perpetrator grew

A soft pop behind him let him know that Ginny had arrived. He turned to look at her and saw a look of apprehension on her face that mirrored how he felt. He wasn't surprised. Even though Professor Dumbledore would be here to help explain the situation, he knew this was going to be very hard on everyone. He wondered if Dumbledore had arrived yet.

As Ginny stepped toward him, he heard the sound of a door opening. Glancing over his shoulder toward the house, he saw the unmistakable outline of Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway. He looked back to Ginny and noticed she had stopped and there was a slight drop in her shoulders. Feeling it was a bit of a stupid question, he asked, "Are you going to be all right?"

Ginny took an audible breath. "I will be."

Harry reached out to take her hand and squeezed it gently in reassurance. "Let's get this over with," he said and led her toward the house.

As they approached the open door, Mrs. Weasley stepped out to meet them. Although her expression appeared pinched in anger, she wrung her hands nervously. "Ginevra Weasley. Why didn't you contact us? We've been worried sick," she hissed quietly as she took her daughter's free hand and pulled her toward the door. "Where have you been and what is going on?"

"Mrs. Weasley..." Harry flinched as Mrs. Weasley's gaze snapped up sharply to him. He wasn't used to her expression not softening when she looked at him. He let go of Ginny's hand and nervously raked his fingers through his hair. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Has Professor Dumbledore arrived?"

"He's in the kitchen. He refused to say a word about what's going on until you two arrived." Mrs. Weasley clearly did not like being kept in the dark.

"Then maybe we should go on in," Harry offered with a small smile, nodding his head toward the still-open door.

Mrs. Weasley didn't say a word but merely turned and led Ginny by the hand into the house. Harry knew then it was going to be bad; he had never known Mrs. Weasley to be anything other than gracious to anyone visiting her home. As he watched mother and daughter pass through the doorway, Ginny looked over her shoulder at him. She didn't need to say a word -- Harry recognized the pleading look in her eyes. He screwed up his courage and followed them inside.

Arriving in the Weasley's kitchen, Harry noted that Professor Dumbledore was seated at the large wooden table; a benign look upon his face, he was calmly drinking a cup of tea. Sitting stiffly at the head of the table and staring blankly at Dumbledore was Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley had released her grip on Ginny and was in the process of conjuring more tea.

Ginny had apparently taken her opportunity to escape from Mrs. Weasley's clutches and moved to a chair at the farthest end of the table. Harry was unsure if he should take a seat next to Ginny where he could offer her support, or sit closer to Dumbledore. With Ginny and him isolated together at one end of the table, he was afraid it would make them appear as guilty accomplices. On the other hand, if he chose a seat away from Ginny, she might think he was trying to distance himself from her. Ginny apparently recognized his quandary and, glancing at the seat next to Dumbledore, she dipped her head almost imperceptibly. Harry smiled gratefully at her and sat down.

In short order, everyone was seated and had cups of tea before them. The tension in the room was thick. Dumbledore remained silent, eyeing Harry with infinite patience. Harry realized that Dumbledore was allowing him the dignity of speaking first. He appreciated being acknowledged as a capable adult by the venerable wizard. But he dreaded having to begin this discussion.

Steeling himself, he began. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley..." He paused and began again, "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am that you've been worried. I'm not sure how to begin to explain what has happened..."

*****

The silence was in the room was deafening. It had taken some time for Harry and Dumbledore to fully explain the situation to Ginny's parents. Ginny had remained quiet the entire time and Harry suspected she'd been avoiding any attention being focused on herself. Harry didn't blame her. There had been several occasions during the explanation when one of Dumbledore's comments had caused either Mr. or Mrs. Weasley to give him a peculiar look. It had not been a pleasant experience.

Harry sat looking at the now-silent couple. Mr. Weasley was flushed with rage, his body tense and his face a mask of fierce protectiveness. It made Harry realize yet again that the genial father figure he'd known was also a formidable man. Although Harry had heard of the internal struggle within the Ministry during the war, he now understood a bit better what had prompted so many to insist that Mr. Weasley be made Minister of Magic. This was not a man to antagonize or take lightly.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes were rimmed with red. It appeared that her thoughts were torn between vexation and concern. Her expression would be one of stony ire, then it would melt into care-worn compassion when she would glance at her daughter. While Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley could be solicitous to the point of annoyance, he nevertheless felt a small pang of jealously in wishing that she would look at him with the same love and sympathy.

He mentally slapped himself. He was being a selfish prat. It was natural that Ginny would be the Weasleys' primary concern - she was their daughter and it was his fault she's become involved in this in the first place.

The stillness of the room was broken as Mrs. Weasley sniffed loudly, "Isn't there anything we can do... isn't there any idea who did this?" Her gaze shifted to her husband. "Arthur?"

"At this point, we have no inkling as to who cast this spell. Everything that can be done has been seen to, Molly." Dumbledore's soft voice interjected. "Right now, these children need our support. It's been a very long and emotional day for them."

At first, Harry bristled at being referred to as a child, but he immediately recognized Dumbledore's ploy to steer Mrs. Weasley from reaction into action. Although she was a brilliant witch and had been a valuable member of the Order, Mrs. Weasley's greatest strength lay in her gift for maternal care. Ginny needed her love now more than her indignation.

Mrs. Weasley stood up and spoke softly to Ginny, "Come long, dear. Let's get you put to bed." Ginny rose wearily from her seat and followed her mother to the doorway. Looking back into the room she quietly said, "Goodnight, Dad... Professor." Her eyes then fixed on Harry and she gave him a wan smile. "Goodnight, Harry."

"'Night, Gin," he said, nodding in return.

Harry felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder and he looked up to see Professor Dumbledore standing over him, eyes filled with empathy. "Go home and get some sleep, Harry." Needing no more encouragement, Harry pulled out his wand and nodded to Dumbledore. "Goodnight, Professor." Turning toward Mr. Weasley, who still sat, silently fuming, Harry felt the need to offer one more apology. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Weasley. Goodnight." And with a barely audible pop, Harry Apparated home.

*****

Harry woke late. He was grateful that there was no practice today as he didn't think he'd be able to keep up with the grueling pace with the little sleep that he had got. As tired as he had been by the time he'd got home, it had been difficult to relax. He had been plagued with thoughts of who might have done this to him. Considering possibility after possibility, he was frustrated by the lack of any conclusion. His mind had refused to let go of the whirlwind of images of that night's events until the wee hours of the morning.

But those thoughts were far from his mind right now as he lay with his eyes still closed, enjoying the cool breeze from the open window and listening to the quiet of his empty house. As he rolled over, he detected faint traces of Ginny's perfume on his pillow. Inhaling deeply, a small smile crept onto his face. The smile slipped as he recalled why he could smell Ginny in his bed. With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes, sat up and pulled back the covers to get out of bed. He reached to his bedside table and put on his glasses. As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his attention was caught by a smear of dark red on his sheets. Harry's stomach rolled unpleasantly. With a groan, Harry rose from his bed. He stripped the stained sheets from the bed, sadness filling his heart as he placed them in the hamper and padded softly into the loo.

After showering, Harry tied back his damp hair, wrapped his dressing gown around him and made his way to his kitchen. He sat down at the table to some conjured tea and a plate of scones. He busied himself buttering a scone while browsing through the Daily Prophet. As he brought the first morsel to his lips, he was interrupted by the arrival of an unfamiliar, mottled-gray owl. Cringing at the thought of the last unknown post he had received, Harry retrieved the parchment from its leg. This owl didn't appear to be in a hurry and hopped closer to stare at Harry expectantly. Taking this as a good sign, Harry broke off a piece of his scone and offered it to the bird. With a hoot of gratitude, it accepted the offering and took off through the window.

Harry turned his attention to the letter in his hand. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the swirly penmanship he knew was Ginny's. Opening it, he read:

Harry,

I hope that you were able to get some sleep last night. I was grateful for the mild sleeping draught that Mum gave to me. Especially when I had to get up for practice. Thankfully we get out at noon today. Bit of a reward for kicking Wimbourne's arse last week.

Harry grinned as he remembered Ron bragging about Ginny's signing with the Pride of Portree. Neither he nor Ron had seen her match last week, but he wasn't surprised at Portree's victory. He knew Ginny was an excellent chaser and lately the Prides had been a rising force in the league. His grin burst into a full-blown smile as he realized that he would be playing against Ginny should his team defeat the Wasps this week. That should be fun.

I see that Montrose will be up against the Wasps this week. You'll have no problem against them. Of course, that means we'll be facing each other across the pitch at some point. Sorry, Potter, but you don't stand a chance!

Harry laughed out loud. Oh yes, that will be interesting. He wondered whom Ron would bet on. Shaking his head, he returned to the letter.

Well, I suppose I should get to the point of why I'm writing to you. Mum has contacted the boys to come to dinner tonight. She and Dad decided they'd better fill them in on what's going on. I don't think it's occurred to her to ask if you wanted to be here. She simply asked me to let you know that dinner would be at seven. If you'd rather avoid it, just let me know and I'll tell her. It's not a problem if you don't come. Really.

If it makes you feel any better, it will be just the boys and Hermione. All the other wives and kiddies will be staying home. That was Dad's doing. I think he just couldn't stand the thought of all those women crying. Mum's bad enough by herself.

This is where I need to ask a favor of you. Do you think you might be able to meet me here at home this afternoon? You won't have to stay if you don't want to be here for dinner, but I could really use your help in letting Mum know that I'm going to stay with you. That is, if you haven't changed your mind about me staying. I'll understand if you don't want to come, so please don't feel like you're obligated. Although there is something else I think we need to talk about in person.

If you do decide to meet with me, three o'clock would be a good time. I should be home by then. I'm going to be meeting Mark at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch right after practice. I don't know how long it's going to take to talk to him about what's going on. I'm really not looking forward to it, but I suppose that's pretty obvious. Wish me luck.

I need to leave for practice now. Please send me an owl to let me know what you decide.

Ginny

P.S. By the way, Madam Pomfrey came by early this morning. I thought you should know that last night did not break the spell.

Harry placed the letter on the table and picked up what was left of his scone. Taking a bite, he began to think about what Ginny had written. It briefly occurred to him that this emotional ride they were on was going to be wearisome. It had been less than twenty-four hours and he already had difficulty recalling what it was like to go an hour without feeling elation one moment and despair the next.

When he picked up his tea, he glanced at the letter again. Dinner with the Weasley brothers... tonight. Well, as far as making a decision, that was easy. There was no question in his mind: he would be there. That was the easy part, of course. Actually facing them would be anything but. Harry did feel relieved that Mr. Weasley had insisted that it be only the boys. This was going to be hard enough without a huge crowd.

There was also no doubt that he would meet with Ginny as she requested. As far as he was concerned, if she asked him, he would fly his Firebolt to the moon. He didn't think a lifetime of favors could even begin to make up to her for what he'd put her through. He would need to reassure her that she was still more than welcome to stay with him. He felt that was as much for him as it was for her. Seeing the reactions of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley last night, he knew he couldn't be with Ginny at The Burrow.

Harry finished off his tea and went to the lounge for parchment and a quill. He dashed off a quick note to let Ginny know that he would meet her at The Burrow at three o'clock and that he would be staying for dinner. He made sure to add that nothing had changed since he'd seen her last night and that he still wanted her to stay with him.

Tying the parchment to Hedwig's leg, he told her, "Take this to Ginny, please. She should be at the Prides' pitch in Portree. Okay?" Hedwig blinked her eyes at him slowly as he stroked the soft feathers on her head. She then took off from her perch and flew through the window.

Harry sat back down at the table and wondered what he would do with himself until three o'clock. He placed his teacup on the empty plate and banished them both with a wave of his hand. Pulling Ginny's letter in front of himself again, his eyes roamed over the postscript. It had surprised him that earlier, when he read Ginny wasn't pregnant, he had experienced a momentary pang of loss. He wanted a family, it was true. But he figured he would find a woman to fall in love with first. This... this... whatever it was that he was experiencing with Ginny was not the proper way to start a family. And Ginny wanted to start a family with Mark, not him. Maybe he was just disappointed this nightmare wasn't over.

Shaking his head, Harry rose to go get dressed and continue contemplating about what he'd do until three o'clock.

*****

As it neared mid-day, Harry had run out of mindless tasks to occupy his time. He had been arguing with himself all morning about going to Diagon Alley and it was beginning to look like he'd give in and go. He knew that Ginny would be meeting with Mark for lunch and that she'd wanted to go alone. But he couldn't help feeling like he should at least be close by in case she needed him. He snorted as it occurred to him that he was acting in what Hermione would describe as a typical, arrogant male fashion. Well... so be it.

Harry arrived in Diagon Alley shortly before noon. He hadn't wanted to risk running into Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron. Even though he knew he vowed not to interfere with her lunch date, he doubted that she would see it that way.

As he strolled past the shops, he smiled and nodded at the people who greeted him. Even if he hadn't been the Boy Who Lived, being seeker for a national Quidditch team ensured that he would be recognized and admired anytime he was out in the public. It had been difficult when he was younger, but he had since learned to graciously accept the attention paid to him. Outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies, he was practically mobbed by a group of youngsters who were fans of the Montrose Magpies. Laughing at their enthusiasm, he agreed to some autographs and shared his version of last week's match.

After spending some time perusing the newest offerings of the Quidditch shop, Harry looked at his watch and decided to visit Gringotts and check his vault balance. He was trying to waste time so that he didn't appear to be intruding on Ginny when he returned to the Leaky Cauldron. He was guessing, of course, but he thought if he was in the vicinity of where she was having lunch by around one o'clock, he might be available to help at the right time. If he was needed. Provided she didn't hex him into the middle of next week when she saw him.

By the time he left the bank, Harry had just over twenty minutes to walk back through Diagon Alley to arrive at the Leaky Cauldron as he'd scheduled. As he passed by Madam Malkin's, the window display caught his attention and he stopped to take a closer look. The female dummy was modeling a lovely dressing gown of sea green satin. Although he rarely paid attention to women's fashion, Harry thought this particular gown was beautiful. His thoughts immediately flew to Ginny and the image of her clutching the bedsheets around her. Thinking this gown would not only look stunning on her, but would make her feel a little more comfortable around him, he made the decision to purchase it and entered the store.

Having suffered through curious looks from the saleswitch and guesses on sizing, Harry arranged for the gown to be delivered to his home. Satisfied that Ginny would be pleased with the gift, he left Madam Malkin's and hurried to the Leaky Cauldron.

He walked into the crowded pub and stopping just inside the door, scanned the tables. He spotted Ginny and her fiancé sitting at a table near the back. Harry was relieved to see an available table close to the door that would allow him to keep an eye on them. He didn't want to eavesdrop on their conversation, he just wanted to be able to see if Ginny appeared in too much distress. Harry made himself comfortable at the open table and placed an order for a Butterbeer with the waitress. Settling back, he tried to watch Ginny's table without seeming rude.

Ginny was bent low in conversation. Harry could tell that she had already told Mark of the spell. Her expression was anguished and her hand gestures were small and subdued. He could only imagine what it would be like if their positions had been reversed and he was left trying to explain all this to his fiancée. He was impressed with Ginny's strength in being able to face this task alone. The knife of guilt twisted in his gut once more at the thought that she wouldn't be facing this at all were it not for him.

The waitress returned with Harry's drink and his attention was diverted while he thanked her. When he glanced back to their table, Harry was alarmed to see that Mark's face had grown red and he was scowling at Ginny. It took all of Harry's self control to stay in his seat as he watched Mark say something to Ginny causing her to recoil. His eyes narrowed and he abandoned all pretense of trying to appear nonchalant. Ginny appeared to be holding her own and had launched into a response. Her body language seemed calm, but Harry had known her long enough to tell that she was very agitated. The color gradually receded from Mark's face and he reached to pull Ginny's hands into his own. Harry relaxed a little and took a drink of his Butterbeer.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry watched as Mark leaned over the table to kiss Ginny on the cheek and stand up. Ginny smiled weakly and nodded at Mark. Her gaze followed him as he wound through the tables to the fireplace. When Mark had left by Floo, Harry noticed Ginny's shoulders slump and her head drop into her hands. Harry's heart broke at seeing her obvious distress. It was time for him to act.

As Harry approached Ginny, he noticed her shoulders shaking. He felt his chest tighten in concern. He feared that Mark had broken off the engagement. Although he thought he was rubbish with crying women, Harry couldn't leave Ginny sitting there like that.

"Ginny?" he said, reaching down to gently touch her shoulder.

She started and looked up at him. "Harry! What are you doing here?"

Harry slipped into the seat Mark had vacated. "I know you said you wanted to do this alone, but I felt I needed to support you. At least be close by," he added, shrugging uncertainly, "in case you needed me."

Ginny patted away the wetness under her eyes with her fingertips. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long." Harry reached into his robes and produced a clean, white handkerchief. He silently offered it to her and she accepted, nodding her thanks. He gently placed his hand on her arm, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It's just a little stressful." She wasn't forthcoming with details and Harry didn't want to press her.

"No... You think?" Harry deadpanned.

Ginny let out a watery snicker before a smile crossed her face. "Thank you for being so thoughtful, Harry."

He experienced a buoyant sensation at being able to ease Ginny's pain if even for a brief moment. Returning her smile he said, "Let's go on to The Burrow. We can talk more there."