Questions and Answers

The weather had taken a turn that morning for the better, warming considerably as the sun broke through the clouds. Molly hummed to herself, planning the menu for tomorrow's lunch - the first one with all the family since the children had returned to school in January. She stood in the scullery, directing the sheets that were folding themselves on the table with her wand, facing away from the windows that lined one wall. She heard the garden gate squeak open and glanced over her shoulder. 'Shouldn't you be in the shop, Ron?' she called through the windows, open to the spring breeze.

'I'm not Ron,' said a hesitant American voice.

Molly whirled around, her wand pointing at the intruder's head. Blinking in the light streaming through the windows, she squinted at the tall, lanky man on the other side of them. 'Fabian?' she breathed, before shaking her head. Of course it's not Fabian, you silly bint, she said to herself. 'Who are you?' she demanded.

'I'm Ben... Uh, Benjamin...' He cleared his throat. 'Benjamin Prewett,' he added hoarsely.

Molly eyed the man suspiciously, keeping her wand pointed at a spot between his eyes. He seemed to be the same age as Ron or Ginny. 'I don't have any relations named Benjamin.'

'You're Molly Weasley, aren't you?' Benjamin asked in confusion, glancing up at the house. It was exactly the way his mother described it to him. Tall, crooked... Looks like the only thing keeping it toppling over is indeed magic... 'Maiden name's Prewett? You had two brothers - twins, named Fabian and Gideon?'

'Yes.'

'Then I'm your nephew.' Ben reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small photograph. 'This is my father,' he told her, holding it out. 'He died before I was born.'

Molly tilted the photograph so she could see it, and Fabian beamed up at her, lying on his back in a meadow. 'Who's your mother...?'

xxxxxx

Lavinia stood outside a small cemetery, her hand resting on the gate. She could just make out the roof of the Burrow, where she hoped Benjamin was able to convince Molly he was who he actually said he was. She took a deep breath, then slowly opened the gate and wound through the headstones, searching until she found his. The pent-up breath she'd been holding came out in a sigh. 'Oh...' Her hand rested on the sun-warmed marble. 'It was his decision to come here,' she said. 'He wanted to meet Molly and her children. Of course, I couldn't blame him. As for me... I promised myself I'd never come back. And well, here I am. I also promised myself I wouldn't tell Benjamin about all of this, either, and you can see how well that turned out.' She reluctantly drew her hand away from Fabian's headstone and lingered for a moment longer, then Disapparated.

xxxxxx

Arthur set his teacup in its saucer, studying the man on the other side of the table. 'So, Benjamin, where did you say you were from again?'

'San Francisco, California. I was born there.' Benjamin fidgeted a little. He didn't like tea very much, but he could picture his mother smacking him on the back of the head for being unforgivably rude for turning down the offer, so he accepted a cup and took a few perfunctory sips.

'Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

Benjamin shook his head. 'No. It's just my mom and me. And my wife and our kids.'

Arthur glanced at Molly, sitting stiffly next to him. 'I don't mean to be rude, Benjamin, but do you have any other proof that your father was one of Molly's brothers, other than the photograph?'

'Mr. Weasley,' Benjamin began.

'Arthur.'

'Arthur...' Benjamin looked at Molly, but answered Arthur. 'All I know is last month some guy came to my mother's shop, looking for her.' He dug into his coat pocket and slapped a sheaf of photographs on the table. 'And then he left these.' Benjamin fanned them out and picked out the photograph from Harry and Ginny's wedding, and stabbed at Harry with an accusing index finger. 'It was him.' Benjamin sat back, and folded his arms over his chest. 'My mother just told me about you, and I don't expect you to believe me. If I were you, I'd think I was off my potions, too. It's just too weird. Even for San Francisco.'

Arthur gazed at Benjamin for a moment, then studied the photograph of Fabian that Benjamin had brought with him. 'When were you born?'

'May fourth, nineteen eighty-two. Mom said Dad was killed on August eighteenth, the year before in an ambush.'

'Those are things anyone would know,' Molly snapped. 'It was common knowledge.'

Arthur could feel his own doubts begin to waver. He grasped Molly's elbow. 'Would you excuse us for a moment?' He pulled Molly from her chair and all but dragged her into the sitting room. 'You still think he's lying, don't you?'

'Yes.'

Arthur peered through the open kitchen door. 'Molly, dear... He looks just like Fabian...'

Molly still shook her head stubbornly, denying her own initial reaction.

xxxxxx

Molly stood in front of the fireplace for several long moments, her palm cupped around a handful of Floo powder. She threw it into the flames and stepped through it. The first thing she saw when she stepped out on the other end was Harry stretched out on the sofa, reading an old issue of Quidditch Quarterly propped on his chest. 'Why didn't you tell me?' she demanded softly, mindful of the sounds of James, Al, and Lily unpacking their things upstairs.

Harry glanced at her over the rims of his glasses. 'Tell you want?' he asked.

'Benjamin,' Molly spat. 'Benjamin Prewett.'

'Oh...' Harry swung his feet to the floor and sat up.

'He said his mother's name is Lavinia Malfoy.'

'It is. It was,' Harry corrected himself. 'She uses Prewett now. And Lavinia asked me not to reveal her whereabouts.'

Molly glared at Harry for a moment. 'So that trumps telling me my brother had a child?' Molly said through clenched teeth.

'Professionally? Yes.'

'What about personally?'

'There is no personal anything when you're an Auror, Molly. You know that,' Harry said evenly.

'Why didn't she come to me for help?' Molly wondered. 'After...'

'Would you have helped her?' Harry challenged. In this moment, Molly wasn't the woman he saw as his mother, she was just another witness to a crime. 'Knowing that you would have put your entire family in danger? Especially with two defenseless babies in the house? And she was a Malfoy.' Harry folded his arms over his chest. 'You're telling me, that mere days after Fabian was killed, you would have welcomed her into your household? Tried to hide her if she asked? And never once have questioned her motives in coming to you since she was Lucius Malfoy's sister?'

Molly's jaw clenched. 'No...' she admitted.

'Did you know about her?'

'Yes.' Molly dropped heavily into one of the armchairs. 'I told him to end it more than a year before he died. I didn't think it would turn out well.'

'Don't you think Fabian would have told her that?' Harry pressed. Lavinia hadn't quite come out and said so, but he got the impression that Fabian had mentioned Molly's opinions on the subject of their relationship. 'Maybe she knew you'd not be overjoyed to find her on your doorstep.'

'She kept Fabian's son away from us,' Molly said stubbornly, her voice cracking.

Harry leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. 'Hang on... How do you know about Benjamin?' he asked curiously, knowing Ginny wouldn't have said a word to Molly.

'He's at the Burrow with Arthur.'

'He's here? In England?'

Molly nodded. 'Showed up a couple of hours ago. Seems a bit shocked by it all.'

Harry chuckled in sympathy. 'I would be, too, if I found out I have a mob of mad relations.'

'Said his mother just told him about us...' Molly's face crumpled. 'He has Fabian's laugh,' she whispered painfully. 'You found him,' she said suddenly, accusingly rising from the chair. 'He said his mother said Narcissa Malfoy asked you to find her.'

Harry set his magazine down and rubbed his face. 'Yeah. She did,' he sighed. There wasn't any point in trying to maintain secrecy now.

Molly suddenly went rigid. 'That's why you and Ginny went to America last month!' she screeched. 'Ginevra!' she called.

Ginny appeared at the top of the stairs, looking slightly bewildered. 'Mum...'

'You knew!' Molly shouted. 'That's why you were at the second landing last Sunday!' she said in dawning comprehension. 'You were comparing Benjamin to Fabian.'

Ginny hurried down the stairs. 'Mum, please... The children...' she hissed, trying to make Molly calm down. She stood next to Harry. 'I've never seen him or met him,' she admitted.

'But you knew!'

Ginny bit her lip and nodded.

'You should have told me,' Molly cried, before she whirled back to the fireplace, and plunged her hand into the flowerpot on the mantle. It fell to the floor and shattered in dozens of pieces as Molly withdrew a fistful of Floo powder. She threw it into the fireplace and was gone before Harry or Ginny could say a word.

xxxxxx

'Don't try to remember everyone's names,' Arthur warned, opening an overflowing photograph album. 'But you're lucky. It doesn't look like we're going to add anyone new for a while...' He flipped through several pages. 'Ah. Here we are... This past Christmas. That's Molly and me, of course. And our eldest, Bill, his wife Fleur, and their children, Victoire, Madeline, Nicholas, and Alexander. That is Charlie, our second oldest. His wife Bronwyn and their children Isabella, Owen, and Aiden. Percy, our third. His wife, Penelope, and their sons, Parker, Payton, and Patrick.' Arthur grinned at Benjamin's slight curl of the lip. 'Yes, it is a wee bit twee, isn't it? But Percy likes things organized and sorted.' He tapped George. 'This is George. He had a twin... Fred. But Fred was killed in the last battle of the war against Voldemort. They were identical, like your father and his brother. And that is Katie, George's wife. Their sons, Fred and Jacob and their daughter Sophia. And Ron...'

'That's who Molly thought I was this afternoon,' Ben interjected. His finger stole out and the tip ran down the bridge of Ron's nose.

'Well, you do sort of look like him, if you're not really looking,' Arthur said. 'It's mostly the height and the hair. And the nose.'

'Harry... ? Is that the right name? The black-haired guy?'

'Yes.'

'Harry... left a picture of Ron. It was the nose that tipped me off.' Ben lightly touched the tip of his own nose.

'It is rather distinctive, isn't it?' Arthur chuckled. 'Thank Merlin he grew into it when he was about sixteen or so.' He returned to the photograph. 'Ron's wife, Hermione. Their children Rose and Hugo. And Harry you know. He's married to our daughter Ginny. And their children, James, Albus, and Lily. And this is Andromeda. She's Narcissa's sister. Her grandson, Teddy, is Harry's godson. Both of Teddy's parents were killed in the same battle as Fred. And this is Scorpius. He's Narcissa's grandson, and just happens to be Albus' best mate.'

Benjamin swallowed heavily. 'There won't be a quiz later, will there?' he asked in apprehension.

Arthur's peals of laughter rang through the kitchen. 'No. But they'll all be here for lunch tomorrow. Well, most of them will be.' He took in Benjamin's slightly dazed expression and Summoned the bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky from the cupboard. 'You look like you could use one,' he said, Summoning two glasses.

'Yeah...'

'Do you have anywhere to stay? I'm sure you have a room somewhere. The Leaky Cauldron, perhaps?'

'Leaky Cauldron.'

'You could stay here, if you wanted,' Arthur offered.

Benjamin took a sip of his whisky. 'I don't think Molly would like that. She seems awfully angry.'

'She's not angry at you,' Arthur countered quickly. 'She's just a little... overwhelmed by it all...' He closed the photograph album. 'Is your mother with you?' he asked hesitantly.

'No. Well, she came with me as far as London, but wouldn't say where she was going from there.'

'I see...' Arthur sipped his own whisky. 'Go get your things. Molly wouldn't want a relation staying in the Leaky Cauldron, even though Hannah will take very good care of you.'

Benjamin snorted. 'She doesn't believe me.'

'She does. Or she will. This whole thing is just...'

'Too good to be true.' Benjamin rested his elbows on the table. 'I know how she feels...'

xxxxxx

Benjamin stood in Diagon Alley, staring in open-mouthed amazement at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, his bag in one hand. He'd never seen anything quite like it - not even in Chinatown. A blonde man jostled him as he walked by. 'What's the matter, Weasley, forget you own the place?' he drawled. 'Too many explosions scramble your memory?' Draco squinted in the fading light at the man in front of him. 'You're not...'

'No.'

'My apologies. I seem to have mistaken you for someone else,' Draco said stiffly. 'You just...' He gestured to the shop and shrugged.

'You know them?' Benjamin asked, pointing to the shop.

'You could say that.' Draco turned and disappeared into the crowd of people on the street.

Benjamin pushed open the door of the shop and was immediately assaulted by sound and light. He wandered through the crowd of children, stopping to study a few products here and there. 'Can I help you find something?' Benjamin turned around to find Ron behind him, with a solicitous smile on his face. Ron peered at him for a moment, then blurted, 'Do I know you? You look... familiar...' He leaned forward a little. 'Maybe George remembers you. It's been an age since we've had a big family do. Are you related to Mum's cousin Janet? The one with the son who's an accountant or something barmy like that.'

'Uh, no...'

'Could swear I've seen you before... Oi! George!' Ron hooked a thumb in Benjamin's direction. 'D'you know him?'

George glanced up from a knot of third-year students surrounded by harried-looking parents. 'Never seen him before in my life.' He made an impatient gesture. 'If you want to solve mysteries, go join Harry in the Aurors. Otherwise, there's a line six deep at the counter, and the twins and Rose are squabbling over whose figures are right, and poor Hugo's about to be in the middle of about ten hexes.'

'Oh, bloody...' Ron hurried to the counter and with one move separated Rose from Jacob, quelling the emerging argument with a glare. By the time things had calmed down enough, the man was gone.

*****

Draco found the small, cramped building that housed the offices of Witch Weekly. He supposed he could have sent an owl, but he was determined to do this in person. He climbed the narrow stairs to a small, bright room. 'Is Mrs. Weasley here?'

'Who's Mrs. Weasley?' a young witch asked.

'Oh, you mean Katie!' her companion exclaimed. 'Yeah, she's down that corridor... the fifth... no sixth door on the left.'

'Thank you...' Draco strode down the corridor, counting to himself as he passed each door. Four... five... six... He could hear voices murmuring behind the partially closed door. He took a step back, then another, stopped, then returned to the door, starting a little when it opened before he could knock. He stepped back, allowing the witch to pass, then softly knocked on the door.

'Did you forget something, Sammie?' Katie asked, hardly looking up from her work. When she didn't receive a reply, Katie lifted her head and stared at Draco dumbfounded.

'I don't mean to intrude, but...' Draco twisted his hands behind his back. 'I'm sorry... For nearly killing you and putting you in the hospital.'

Katie's hand convulsed around the quill and it snapped.

Draco jumped at the sound. 'I know that doesn't make up for it.'

'Too right it doesn't,' Katie growled. 'I lost six months of my life. I almost died.' Katie held out her left hand, where a web of livid scars still crisscrossed her ring finger. 'I can't put my own wedding ring on in the morning without being reminded of it. And you tell me, "I'm sorry". Like that's going to give me those months I lay unconscious in St. Mungo's. Or the years I worried there was something else wrong with me because of that damned necklace.' Her hand slammed on the table. 'So don't try to apologize and expect me for forgive you, Malfoy,' she snarled.

After approaching his mother, Draco knew better than to expect an effusive expression of forgiveness. 'I don't expect you'll forgive me,' he murmured, his eyes fixed on the edge of the table Katie occupied. 'But I never meant to hurt you.' He swallowed heavily. 'I never meant to hurt you,' he repeated. 'I just wanted to tell you...'

'And now you have,' Katie said, clearly in dismissal, turning back to her work. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish this before I leave for the day.' She bent over the table, plucking a fresh quill from a cup on the corner.

Draco stared at the top of her head for a long moment, then silently walked down the corridor and out of the building, with a curt nod to the Auror assigned to him, leaning against a lamppost. 'I'm going home,' he muttered. 'I'll even give you a five-second head start,' he added. The Auror's face was impassive, and she made no move to Apparate, but slid her hand into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out a small pewter card, and tapped it with her wand.

'After you, sir.'

Draco sighed and Disapparated, followed closely by the Auror.

*****

Daphne peeped through the slightly ajar door into Scorpius' bedroom. He had fallen asleep reading one of his beloved Muggle comic books. She tiptoed inside and slid the book away from his hand and set it on the bedside table. She pulled the duvet over his shoulders and smoothed the hair from his face. He snorted in his sleep and rolled over. Daphne flicked her wand at the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. She stole back to her bedroom, untying the sash of her dressing gown as she nudged the door closed with her foot. 'Nothing ever happened with Pansy after we finished school.'

Daphne inhaled sharply at the unexpected sound of Draco's voice in her bedroom. 'What?' She spun around to find him perched on the side of her bed.

'Pansy... The last time she and I... It was before Easter of our seventh year.'

Daphne blinked. 'All right...'

'I'm not sure why she told people that we were... together... for years after. But I guess it gave her a level of cachet amongst her peers. I know you heard the rumors before we were married. I got a sort of grim satisfaction out of knowing people believed them. Living up to their expectations and all.' Draco stood and slid his hands into the pockets of his dressing gown. 'I just thought you should know.'

He headed for the door and had opened it, and was halfway through when Daphne blurted, 'You don't have to leave.' Draco looked at her over his shoulder. 'I'm not really sleepy yet. And you and I could talk for a bit... If you want.'

Draco paused, then stepped back into the room and closed the door, waving his wand at the small sconce next to the door.

xxxxxx

'Our wedding night was complete disaster, wasn't it?' Draco mused. He was curled on one side, facing Daphne.

'Do you even have to ask?'

'Touché.' Draco shifted a little closer, so his knees brushed Daphne's. 'I didn't even try to make it bearable for you.'

'Bearable would have been an improvement,' she quipped. 'Tolerable would have been ecstasy.'

Draco's eyes widened. 'Do other people know about this side of you?'

'Very few.'

'Would it help if I told you I barely knew more than you did about how to make it bearable, if not tolerable?'

Daphne drew back in surprise. 'Really? But I thought...'

'Experience doesn't always translate to finesse,' Draco said loftily. 'Could you sit up for a moment?'

'Why?'

'I want to try something...'

'All right...' Daphne pushed herself into a sitting position. Draco grasped her upper arms and leaned toward her. Daphne pulled away slightly. 'What are you doing?'

'Just... Don't move.' He pressed his lips to hers and Daphne made a muffled noise of protest. 'What? Am I doing it wrong?'

Daphne rubbed her fingers over her lips. 'Well, no. Not if you're practicing on pillows...' Draco's shoulders slumped dejectedly and he started to climb off the bed. 'No, wait...' Daphne grabbed his arm. 'Could I show you?'

'If you wish,' Draco said with more than a little awkwardness.

Daphne gently cupped the side of his face with one hand, her thumb tracing delicately over his lips. 'Close your eyes,' she whispered. Draco dutifully squeezed his eyes shut and Daphne lightly brushed her mouth over his. Draco's breath caught and Daphne smiled, before she gently deepened the kiss, fingers skipping over the skin underneath his jaw.

Draco pulled away, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. 'Where did you learn how to do that?' he demanded.

'Just because I was a virgin when we married doesn't mean I'd never been kissed,' Daphne informed him blithely, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 'The baker's son. His name was Jared. I used to sneak out of the house after dinner and meet him before our fifth year.'

'Who are you?'

'Just your wife. Nobody special.' Daphne opened a drawer in her bedside table, and retrieved a battled Muggle novel, Spellotape binding the covers to the spine. 'This was also quite helpful,' she continued.

Draco took the novel from her and promptly burst into muffled guffaws. 'Charming Rogue?' he spluttered. 'What kind of rubbish is this...?' He opened the book to a random page and began to read aloud in the affected dramatic tones of someone who meant to mock the material. 'Chase pulled Rebecca hard against his chest. She tried in vain to keep her eyes closed at the indecent sight of so much bare skin, but the warmth of his body was an irresistible lure. Rebecca moaned softly...' Draco fell back into the pillows, whooping. 'Oh, that's utter, absolute, ridiculous shite,' he gurgled. He held the book over his face and attempted to find where he'd left off.

'Give it back!' Daphne exclaimed. 'It's not mine!'

'I should hope not. Where did you get this?' Draco turned a page with a moistened index finger and continued to read, grinning with ill-disguised glee.

'A friend loaned it to me.' Daphne didn't want to mention which friend. Ginny had sent a parcel containing several ratty, dog-eared Muggle novels after Draco had been released from the hospital with a short note that had said, In case he's not such a wanker after all... She lunged for the book and Draco held it just out of her reach. 'Damn it, Draco, give it back.'

'How many times have you read this?' he chuckled.

'Just twice. Give it back!' Daphne leaned across Draco, grasping futilely for the book, unaware she was sprawled over Draco. Draco stopped laughing, and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, deliberately mimicking her light caress.

He lifted his head and kissed her, briefly, but it was far from perfunctory. 'Was that better?' Daphne nodded, and the book fell to the floor with a muffled thump, forgotten.

xxxxxx

Benjamin stared nervously at the kitchen door, jumping when he heard the first whoosh of the fireplace. He rubbed his sweaty palms over the knees of his jeans. Arthur patted his back sympathetically, 'Just breathe,' he murmured. Benjamin nodded, his face going a shade paler under the sprinkling of freckles scattered over his nose and cheeks. The sounds of several more people arriving by Floo reached the kitchen, the mingled sounds of their conversations preceding them into the kitchen. Bill, George, Ron, and Harry walked into the kitchen discussing the latest Cannons defeat, talking at the same time, with the occasional shouted comment from Ginny, Al, or Rose from the sitting room.

Ron started to head to the stove to help Molly with lunch, but came to a sudden stop at the sight of Benjamin sitting at the table, making Harry run into him. 'Ow!' Harry grunted, as he rubbed his nose. 'Warn a bloke when you're going to stop like that, eh?' He followed Ron's bemused gaze to the man occupying Arthur's usual seat at the table. Gradually, the others fell silent as they noticed Benjamin.

'Who the bloody hell are you?' Ron blurted.

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but Molly's voice slid into the stillness. 'This is your cousin, Benjamin. Your uncle Fabian's boy,' she added softly.