Weasley Child

"Ron, owl for you," Harry Potter greated his best friend of eight years, Ron Weasley, as he entered the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place. Ron looked up from his porridge.

"Owl? Who could be writing to me?" he wondered. His face assumed a worried arrangement. "You don't think I failed my Auror midterms, did you? It'd kill Mum, what with me being Head Boy last year, and all. Getting all the way through Hogwarts, and then failing out of Auror school." He took the letter out of its envelope. "Weird paper, this. Not nearly as thick as usual writing parchment." He scanned the letter. "Who the hell could this be from? It's Ginny's birth announcement. I don't know why--"he stopped, and Harry could see him rereading the entire thing many times over. "This can't be hers..."

Harry took the letter from Ron's shaking hands, and chuckled. "Her middle name's Maeve? I never knew that! But I don't see why it's got your pants in a twist."

"Read the parents."

He did. "Who on earth is Rosemary Webb?"

"Not a clue. But I do know who the father is," Ron laughed mirthlessly.

"William Phaeton Weasley. Relation of yours?" Harry asked thickly. Then it dawned on him. "That's, well, it's--"

"Bill. Yeah. But he can't be Ginny's dad, he's not old enough!" Ron muttered manically. "Ginny's only a year younger than me! No way can she be my niece, it's just... just too weird. And Bill is only twenty or so years older than I am! Not to mention the fact that I've never heard anything about it..."

"Well, plenty of people have nieces and nephews who're older than they are," Harry suggested insensitively. "And I think Bill mentioned once that he was at school with my parents. Not in their year, obviously, but I think he said he was a first year when my dad was Head Boy."

Ron pulled his spoon out of his porridge, which had gone horribly grey and the consistency of glue. He stared at it, sickened, as the shuffling sound of slippered feet drifted down the hallway. "God, I hope it's not Mum..."

"Well, I do imagine she knows that she didn't give birth to Ginny, right? She's gotta know."

But it wasn't Molly Weasley. It was Ginny, her red hair mussed around her tired face. She blinked a few times, trying to get the world of the kitchen to focus correctly. "'Morning, Ron. Mornin', Harry," she murmured heavily, as she moved towards the cabinet for some Honeyduke's Morning Mouth-Wash Flakes. "Have you seen Mum anywhere, Ron?"

"I think she might have gone out," Ron answered, his voice strained. "Went to do shopping. Or something."

Ginny smiled. "It's so great that you guys came back here for Christmas! We would have gone home, obviously, but Mum wanted to include the entire Order for the holiday," she grinned sleepily, but her smile quickly turned to a scowl. "I could do without Snape here, though. He's hated me even more since I got into N.E.W.T. potions."

"That great slimy git's not coming for Christmas, Ginny," Harry reassured her. "I doubt he even remembers the meanings of the words joy or happiness. Do wish Hermione could come, though. I suppose she can't get away from her job at Beauxbatons, but it would have been nice to see her."

"It's amazing that she got a teaching job a year out of Hogwarts! Although, I imagine the standards are a wee bit lower there, judging by that Fleur girl at the Triwizard." Ginny didn't notice Ron's ears going redder than they already were. "Can't believe her and Bill are still dating. He says they're thinking of getting married. It'd be great if they had a kid--it'd be gorgeous. Wouldn't it be nice to have a niece or nephew, Ron?"

This was too much for Ron. The mention of Bill obviously pushed him just too far, and he made a horrible noise like a kettle whistling. The only words he could force out of his mouth were "No." He was obviously working very hard to expel his statement. "Post," he managed finally.

Harry, never the brightest crayon in the box, looked at his friend oddly. "What about that letter you got five minutes ago?"

"Oh, did you get a letter, Ron? It might be the one I sent you, I wanted to ask a question about Polyjuice potion, and I figured it would be too far a journey for Pig all the way to France to ask Hermione, but I guess he's just found you, stupid ball of feathers." She picked up the letter, and opened it, despite the sounds that suggested that Ron's head was going to fly off.

"But, that's me." She sat down with a thud in one of the kitchen chairs. "And that's... Bill." Her face contorted, obviously trying to imagine her favorite brother as her father. She looked at her second least favorite brother. "Ron, that's not funny. I don't know why you thought it'd be a great joke, but it's not." Her voice, however, was shaky.

"I didn't make it up, Ginny. Unless someone has a fucking sick sense of humor, and is sending these out, it's real as far as I can see."

Ginny's eyes obtained a wild glaze. "Bill's going to be here tonight. With Fleur! I can't just say 'So, big brother, I hear you're actually my FUCKING FATHER!'"

"There's nothing for it, I suppose. We're going to have to ask Mum," Ron said in a choked voice. "We can't just go around not knowing. I mean, you can't. Doesn't matter to me." However, the tone of his voice suggested quite the opposite. In fact, he seemed even more distraught than Ginny, judging by the fact that he had started to shred the morning's Daily Prophet into small pieces and had sprinkled them into his porridge. Ginny had gone pale, and continued to stare, head faintly shaking, at the birth announcement. Harry, however, was staring blankly at ... something. No one was ever really sure what Harry was looking at anymore. Ever since that bludger...

"But... what is there to say? I suppose I'd like to know why no one has ever told me that my favorite brother is my father." Ginny glanced sheepishly at Ron. "No offence."

"Hmm?" Ron vocalized through his spoonful of porridge and newspaper. He seemed too distracted to care that he wasn't Ginny's favorite brother, but Harry opened his mouth again.

"Actually, it might explain why Bill has always been your favorite. I imagine, not every actually really ever had a father or siblings, that a kid always feels closer to their parents than their brothers or sisters."

The three heard a pair of feet shuffling down the hall. Ginny tensed visibly, and her ashen face set determinedly, whereas Ron looked as if he would much rather be under the table than asking his mother about his sister's pedigree.

"Good morning!" Molly Weasley cheerfully greeted the three. "I see you've gotten yourself breakfast. Ron, has there been any post?" She shuffled in her bunny slippers over to the sink, where she swished her wand. The kettle soared over the table, nearly hitting Ron on the head, and started to fill itself.

"Um, well, Mum, there was a little post," Ginny piped up bravely. She refolded the strangely thin parchment, and handed it to her mother, not meeting her eyes.

Mrs. Weasley took the letter, and glanced it over with sharp brown eyes. Her wand hand, controlling the kettle, dropped to her side, and with it, the kettle fell with a crash into the sink. "Oh dear..."

"I don't suppose you'd like to explain, Mum? It's odd. I don't remember ever being told that you and dad weren't my parents," Ginny demanded, still shaking and pale. She gave a panicky laugh. "I'm sure you know about this."

Mrs. Weasley cast an eye over trembling Ginny, distraught Ron, and blank Harry, and sighed heavily. She pulled out a chair, and sat down, staring at her hands. "Ginny, I want you to promise me that, no matter what I say, you won't get angry. We thought it was all for the best at the time, and--"

"Tell us already!" exclaimed Ron, his upset demeanor breaking. "I mean, tell Ginny."

"Well, a few years out of Hogwarts, as you know, Bill hadn't yet gone off to Egypt, and was still working at Gringotts in London. He fit in very well with a..." she cleared her throat, suggesting that she did not approve of Bill's lifestyle of the time, "interesting crowd of Muggles." Mrs. Weasley looked down at the table, and Ron noticed that the corners of her eyes shone with tears.