Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

WONKY CROSS	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 59358 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: I am so in love (read: ‘obsessed’) with all the hits, rates and especially the reviews. I can’t tell you how much it means to an author to hear from people that are reading their story! And the encouragement that is represents really buoys the spirit!

Hollibel, you keep getting all the stuff I’m setting up for future posts! You’re too clever! From resolving the ring issue to the joke I’d put in about the irony of the “Harpy” (already written when you reviewed by the way) and the Molly situation in general…. Have you hacked into my computer to see the rough drafts I’m working on? Haha. :)

And Yaoinessdotcom, you have a sharp eye! Thanks for the heads-up on the whole, L vs. V thing! I fixed it. I don’t know what I was thinking, but when I wrote the last, I was thinking what could possibly be Molly’s mother’s name (there’s nothing in canon, so it’s up for creative-license-grabs), but Vivienne just sounded good to me. As for shouting “Weasley”, it’s meant to show how rattled she is that she reverts back to her usual way of yelling at her kids when she finds them misbehaving. It was/is already written that she quickly gets corrected…. It would make more sense read all-together…. Maybe I cut that too short.

The rest of you have been making awesome— and eerily accurate-- predictions….

Hope all you guys enjoy this part. And yeah, Molly certainly gets her eyes opened in this one!

~O~

CLARITY: PART 2

Hermione and the two Weasley brothers had been huddled around the crack under the door, listening intently through the Extendable Ears, giving the others incredibly incredulous, grievously galled or hurt-sympathetic looks at specific moments and particularly caustic comments.

There had been several times when the Brightest-Witch-of-the-Age had murmured, “totally delusional”, Ron had muttered, “barking mad” and Charlie had growled, “selfish cunt”; there were a few incidents that each of the men had to be restrained from barging in as well. Ron actually had an ‘Incarcerous’ cast on him at one point— it was taken off a moment later when he’d sworn to behave (after having been promised by his girlfriend that she’d let him try ‘that thing’ he’d been asking for if he did).

They all flinched and twitched violently when the family matriarch snuck up silently behind them and said, “Honestly! Don’t you three have anything better to do than to spy on a young couple patching up their misunderstanding?”

“No!” Charlie hissed, “And there was no MISunderstanding!” His mother furrowed her brow and a frown graced her face at his cold tone; her little boy had never spoken to her like that!

“And what did you kids say to Demelza?” she demanded once she’d shook off the sudden chill. “The poor girl ran into the attic like she was being chased by a Boggart and locked herself in!” she scolded. (Hermione mused that seeing the four of them swooping down on her like avenging angels could very likely be the vision she got if she’d had a run-in with that particular dark creature.)

Molly lips pursed in annoyance when she got no answer; no one was paying attention to her!

She surveyed the somber scene, a growing unease in the pit of her belly; it wasn’t like them to be this juvenile, to be eaves-dropping for no good reason now that they were all grown up. They were all being so serious! And that was worrying. Plus, they weren’t jumping to obedience or acting contrite at being caught, remaining fixated on what was coming through the silly surveillance devices they were listening to.

Still, her daughter and son-in-law had a right to privacy….

“Oh, good gravy! Just take those ridiculous contraptions out of your ears!” she irritably snapped, forcibly yanking the flesh-colored threads from their heads; with all three cords grasped in her hand, Ginny’s voice-- loud and clear-- was broadcast among them and echoing in the corridor.

Her face reddened at her daughter’s blithe and cavalier attitude towards spending so much money on toys for herself and her friend; her muscles tightened at the insults on what equipment their home had to offer. (At Ginny’s declaration of wanting to become an official “Harpy”, Charlie and Hermione locked eyes for a split-second and sardonically smirked— as best they could through the anxiety-- at the overwhelming irony of definition and term.)

But when it sunk in that Ginny was planning on staking her entire future to making it onto a national Quidditch team instead of getting ready to go back and complete her schooling, the fierce mother had to intervene and set her offspring straight!

Her sons and Hermione filed in after her, watching and waiting for what would unfold.

Ginny squared her shoulders and sneered. “It’s Mrs. Potter, now,” she responded tartly, “if you don’t mind!” (Ron muttered, ‘not for long’ under his breath) “And why are you—” she started, and then she saw the Extendable Ears hanging limply in her mother’s clenched-tight fist. She rolled her eyes, “Oh reeeeeeaaal mature, guys! What are you, fourteen?”

“Ginevra Potter,” Molly growled, “What is the meaning of all this? Your father and I did not scrimp and save for years only to have you drop out of school one year shy of gaining your N.E.W.T.’s! You’re going back once the restoration is finished and that’s final.”

Ginny balled her hands on her hips, “You can’t tell me what to do! I’m of age. Besides, Fred and George left early.”

“I wasn’t thrilled about that,” Molly conceded, “but they had a thriving business and a place of their own.”

Ginny sniffed haughtily. “I could have my own house, we just felt like you needed the company here.”

“I’ll be fine now, as long as you complete your education,” the Weasley matriarch insisted. (It was true. She was doing much better these days-- her magic returned to full strength; even her hair was almost back to its natural fiery orange.)

“I’m not going back there! I want to follow my dreams, not study things I’ll never have to use.”

“You can’t know for sure that you’ll make it as a professional athlete! The odds are long against it. Why not get your test scores and then go try your hand at Quidditch?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mum. Just because you didn’t make it as a singer as popular as Celestina Warbeck and started popping out kids right away doesn’t mean I have to! You’re my mother, you are supposed to want better for me than you had!”

Molly flushed further, her nostrils flaring at the insinuation that she was a failure due to the way her life turned out. “Of course I want the best for you. And part of that is becoming accredited!”

“I’m never going back to the Hogwarts hell-hole! I want to live and enjoy life! And as for needing N.E.W.T’s for getting some other job, Harry’s got enough money that I don’t ever need to work if I don’t want to.”

“But you’ve been spending weekends there!” Molly exclaimed with a note of a whine in her tone. “You were there the whole week leading up to Christmas. What’s the difference of waiting one more year to see if you can become a professional athlete?

Harry, Hermione, Charlie and Ron were giving each other questioning, confused looks (which Molly’s sharp eye and a mother’s intuitive sixth-sense caught.)

“Harry? Wasn’t she with you at Hogwarts?” He shook his head ‘no’. “She told me she was over her fear and you two were getting closer the more time you spent together, that her and Demelza were getting re-acclimated to the Castle….” She rounded on her daughter, “Ginny! Where, pray tell, did you go, if not there!”

“Been exploring Muggle London, much?” Hermione asked in a low tone. “A thousand, seven-hundred and fifty pounds is quite a chunk of change. I had wondered why you converted three hundred and fifty Galleons. That would explain it.”

“Three…. hundred….” Molly wheezed and clutched her chest. Ginny shot Hermione a betrayed look that turned more towards vengeance when she heard and saw what the older-teen witch did next.

“Your daughter has been rather busy when she’s left the house.” Hermione shoved the bank statement summary sheet under the matron’s nose. “Gringott’s even wrote a special letter since all the charges being made to the Potter Vault from the new store accounts were signed by her.”

She absently took the parchment. “Is that what the argument on Christmas— OH, my STARS! Is this accurate?” She looked ashen and about to faint; Charlie brought his arm around her back to steady her when she swayed.

“Ginevra! In three months you spent almost as much as Dad made a year when he was in the Misuse office!” Her eyes bulging as they darted over the page, taking in the names of the stores, she exclaimed, “And all on worthless junk! Whatever possessed you to be so wasteful? I certainly did not raise you—”

Ginny interrupted, “Just because you didn’t have the finer things in life-- nice things beyond the bare necessities-- that means I can’t? I don’t know why you all seem so serious about this!” She glared back at all the accusing looks she was receiving from the crowd assembled in her bedroom, “I’ve hardly made a dent in our Vault! It would take a lot more than a little shopping to do that! And you certainly weren’t complaining when I got us the new couch and Wireless for the holiday!”

“Well, I will be returning those!” Molly declared hotly. “As you should, with whatever items you can!”

Harry interjected, “No, please! I want you to have those, Mrs. Weasley! Keep them, please, you deserve it. They are gifts for the family!”

“While Harry has the funds, yes,” Hermione agreed but felt the need to point out, “the fact that you are selfishly spending so much on yourself and Demelza is reprehensible. And why on Earth are you lying and sneaking around, telling your mother you were at Hogwarts with us and Harry when you were out burning though bucket-loads of money in the Muggle world?”

Ginny leaned forward with her hands on her hips. “Well, I had to come up with some sort of cover story on why Harry stopped coming home on the weekends, didn’t I?”

Charlie couldn’t hold his tongue any longer over the issue that hit him the hardest in this whole situation-- especially at the way she seemed to be implying it was Harry’s fault! “Of course he stopped! You are overly-critical, judgmental and completely un-concerned for his happiness! Why the fuck would he want to come here and be treated like shit?”

Molly gasped. “Language,” slipped out in a totally automatic mom-reflex before she turned to Harry with wide, questioning eyes; she’d heard a bit of how Ginny had been talking to him while she thought the conversation was private, but was it as bad as Charlie seemed to make it out to be? Surely he was exaggerating….

Though Harry couldn’t meet his mother-in-law’s pleading-for-it-not-to-be-true gaze, he nodded.

“Actually, Mum,” Ron piped up, “what you’ve heard today is nothing. She’s said and done far, far worse.”

“She’s been verbally and emotionally abusing him, Mrs. Weasley, and mendaciously manipulating him from the start,” Hermione stated.

Ginny huffed. “You’re just jealous you didn’t land a rich husband! Oh wait,” she said mockingly and in sickening smugness, “You don’t even HAVE a husband!”

“I will when the time is right,” the bushy-haired witch snapped. “And I won’t have rushed it or have coerced my fiancé by putting a ring on my own finger and playing on his caring, generous nature to keep the engagement alive until it is a done deal,” and then added, her voice dripping with vindictive sarcasm, “Oh wait! I’ll also have been proposed to!”

The redheaded witch flushed in un-becoming blotches.

“Ginny!” her mother screeched at her in disbelief, “Is this true?!” Her daughter’s defiant yet sullen silence was damning.

“When you announced to me you were getting married and were ready for my mother’s ring, you’d led me to believe Harry had asked you but was unable to venture out in public to buy a new one!” Ginny’s face twisted in an ugly scowl. “I made you two that romantic picnic to take out to the pond so you could show Harry the ring and have him properly slip it on your finger!”

(Harry remembered that evening well. They had, indeed, gone out back and eaten dinner while watching the sunset; that was the first time he’d seen the ring on her hand. She had briefly remarked how pretty it was-- and that it had been her grandmother’s-- but didn’t bring anything up about why she was suddenly wearing it.)

“Oh, please! What difference does it make who put in on? Everyone knew we were going to get married anyway! Was I supposed to wait while he dawdled around before he got a clue? I did that my entire time at school, thank you very much! I didn’t want to do it again.”

The room was shocked speechless.

“And Harry never objected to any of it, he obviously wanted to get married too,” Ginny added, as if that settled the matter.

“Harry?” Molly asked, a tremor in her tone.

He looked up, green eyes full of guilt. “Once everything was in motion, I guess I thought I did…. before. I could really be a part of the family…. And it made everyone really happy….”

Molly sighed, “This is all so preposterous! Absolutely unbelievable! Who puts a ring on their own finger?!” shouting her rhetorical question skyward before she addressed her son-in-law, “And Harry, you were always family, marriage or not, and always will be! Well, I see now I should have given you the ring directly,” she pointed a hard stare in her daughter’s direction, “so you could have decided things for yourself.”

Harry wondered, if confronted with the symbol of engagement and a choice, would he have done things differently? No, he had thought he wanted the same things back then-- and he definitely would have felt put on the spot and pressured to do what was expected of him.

“I didn’t know any better. I thought it made sense at the time. But it soon became clear it wasn’t right. That’s why we’re here today, actually. I wanted to get Ginny’s signature on these papers.” He handed his wife the folder (a little damp along the edge with palm-sweat); her eyes narrowed in fury as she flipped it open and read the simple, straight-forward document.

Charlie, Ron and Hermione all subtly shifted to flank his sides, to present an unyielding, united front.

“You want me to just sign away everything, just like that?”

“What is it?” Molly’s brow creased in concern. “If it’s an order to put a cap on your monthly spending, you’d best do it. It’s obvious you have no concept of the value of money and how to manage it. Otherwise, you’re skating on thin ice, Missy, since you haven’t been doing a very good job at satisfying your husband and making sure he’s happy!” (Charlie snorted and Harry reached out and pinched him, a silent plea to keep quiet on his rather embarrassing, non-gratifying sex life with his wife.)

“NO!” Ginny spat furiously. “It’s meant to dissolve the marriage! Why would you do that?! What’s wrong with the way things are now?”

Harry’s support system exploded in exclamations of “You have to ask?”, “You’re barking mad”, “You are deluded!” (among other more colourful phrases). The brunet’s murmur of ‘I’m not happy with the way things are.’ was drowned out in the much more raucous cacophony his best friends were currently making.

Molly just looked back and forth between the kids as if she was watching a frenetic ping-pong match, not knowing what to make of this sudden turn of events. It was obvious they were all in agreement that Ginny’s behaviour warranted such drastic measures, but the young couple could talk it out and fix things, right? As long as Ginny learned a lesson about being responsible about money— and doing a better job at cherishing her spouse….

“And if I don’t sign?” Ginny threatened, “I could file for divorce first and be able to keep the influential name and take half!”

“Ginevra!” Molly thundered, absolutely appalled at the callow concerns of her only daughter. (All of a sudden-- in the space of just under an hour-- she was seeing her beloved offspring turn into something like one of the horrid little shrews that made for the quintessential villainesses in those tawdry romance novels published in the series ‘Wicked Vixens’.) Did she only care about the shallow image and lifestyle and nothing of Harry himself? Their wonderful, sweet, caring Harry?!

“What Mum, I have the right to contest any sort of separation. I can always tell them that I was neglected for my husband’s work and get my due!” Ginny gave a triumphant sneer.

Hermione’s voice came out as a low growl. “You really have the audacity to put your family in such financial hardship and drag their names through the mud? Disgraceful!” she spat at the brat. “Divorce? Honestly? You’d attempt that in your tenuous position?” the venom to back up her statements clear, “So, how do you think it’s going to go during the cross-examination under Veritaserum? Hmmmm, Ginny?” she purred in a promise of peril.

And when Hermione continued, the younger witch’s cruelly-stretched lips faltered slightly.

“Harry’s representation will rip you apart! All the Wizarding community and convened council is going to hear is that a spoiled, self-centered sow didn’t like that her noble, hero husband was off working to rebuild the nation’s most beloved institution after being the chief element that ended a war…. You would be seen as a silly little girl who wouldn’t join him by his side to support and charitably help but instead proceeded to spend gobs of his money without his knowledge or consent!”

Ginny twitched, obviously uncomfortable with how this discussion was going. (And she really didn’t like the way it seemed her so-called friend was swaying her own mother’s opinion to go against her.)

“And what about the other part, Ginny?” Hermione asked in an ominous tone. “We all heard you. Ron and I know what you tried to make Harry believe on Christmas Eve. You would be vilified. You’d be the most hated witch in Britain— I’d be surprised if you didn’t get rotten fruit and random hexes thrown at you when you went out in public! What do you think will happen when the defense calls for witnesses and Pensieve memories?”

Ginny frowned and crossed her arms across her chest.

“What is she talking about, Ginevra?” (None of the Weasley children could ever remember Molly using their full names in admonishment so many times in such a short amount of time.)

The petulant witch remained mute.

“Are you going to tell your mother?” Hermione breathed in a menacing snarl, “Or should I?”

“She’s been sleeping with Demelza!” Ron blurted out, unable to contain himself any longer.

Molly frowned, “Yes, they share a room when Harry isn’t here…. Are you insinuating there’s something going on—”

“I’m stating flat-out it’s a fact that they have sex and Ginny tried to make Harry believe it was totally normal and acceptable that she fools around with her best friend while she has a husband!” Ron voice was rising as he began working himself up further. “She wants to stay married to Harry for the fame and fortune AND keep a lover on the side!” he bellowed, red in the face.

One look at her daughter’s unrepentant countenance and sassy, self-righteous stance told her it was true. Molly was beyond furious! She was spluttering with a rage she hadn’t felt since she’d seen Death Eaters trying to strike down her children!

“I did not teach--! I never— You were raised—” And then found a sentence she could complete; “How DARE you disrespect your husband in such a way?!”

Ginny scoffed at what she perceived as the melodramatics of her mother. “Of course, I respect Harry! He saved my life, in case you’ve forgotten-- and got rid of You-Know-Who!”

“AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY HIS COURAGE AND SACRIFICES?!” she thundered (a few red sparks sprinkled out the tip of her wand and singed the carpet). “You frivolously spend his money behind his back and make him a cuckold? Either one of those alone would be enough to show a complete lack of respect, of basic human regard! He’s helped our family time and time again and you treat him so terribly? You are a disgrace! You are nothing more than a gold-digging scarlet woman!”

Charlie reached out again to steady his trembling, irate mother. “You will sign those papers and let him go!” she demanded.

“Why can’t we just keep things the way they are?” Ginny asked.

(Everyone just stared at her as if she was mental— a look she was giving them right back.)

“I could have my life and Harry could have his! Though, good luck on finding someone with enough patience to deal with his awkward fumbling around in bed, but--” she was immediately silenced from that train of thought at exactly the moment her mother was about to scold her for spewing such vile vitriol.

Hermione had shot a magenta jet that hit Ginny in the mouth. The redhead clapped her hand to her lips. “What did you do to me?”

“Moody’s Tongue-Tying Curse. You will NOT be saying anything more about Harry or your marriage! To him or to anyone else! Firstly, because I’m sick of hearing you verbally abuse my best friend, and second, to prevent you from selling your story to the press when they come a-calling. And I know you— and you WILL want cave to the highest bidder sooner or later— but this way, Harry’s privacy will be preserved from whatever perverse, twisted tale you decide to spin!”

A very grateful Harry (and astounded, though he supposed he shouldn’t be after all these years) marveled at her astuteness; Hermione always DID have the foresight him and Ron lacked to fix things before they fell apart in the future.

“You are such a BITCH!” the younger witch declared in a baleful bellow, and then grumbled, “I don’t know why I was ever friends with you!”

Hermione gave a sneer of her own.

“I suppose we befriended each other out of default— I mean, we were always the only two girls in a mass of boys. I was always around. I was close with your brother and the boy you had silly little school-girl dreams about, fantasizing of the fairy-tale, getting the happily ever-after story-book ending of landing the Prince. You needed my approval so that it could happen, to secure your future— if I didn’t accept you, Harry never would have.”

“So this is all your idea, you’ve put him up to leaving me!”

“No, I merely researched his options once I’d heard how horrible things were between you,” Hermione corrected her. “It was HE who decided he wanted out. We’re all here to stand by and support him with his choice. The fact that we all agree that this is the best course of action is inconsequential.”

Charlie roughly pushed a quill into his sister’s hand. “Just sign the damn papers! Harry deserves to be rid of the likes of you and find someone who truly has his best interests at heart! He’s too kind and noble to put up with having an open marriage on your end, and he shouldn’t have to. He’s too loyal and faithful to be all right with having a relationship that satisfies him outside the confines of the vows he took. He gets nothing but grief by staying chained to you— except maybe an emptier Vault!”

Ginny made a fast lunge towards her bed but Molly was quicker; “‘Accio’ the girls’ wands!” One slipped from under a pillow, the other ruffled out of the sheets, causing a Muggle battery-operated device to thump to the floor, the impact of which set it to buzzing. Charlie and Ron sniggered as their sister angrily kicked the vibrating pink plastic phallus under the bed.

She was furious at being overpowered and out-numbered!

Five very formidable magic-wielding people were staring her down, wands at the ready, while she was unarmed. They were trying to force her to give up everything she had worked so hard for! What business was it of all of theirs, anyway? She was sure that if it were only Harry in her room right now she could talk him out of ending things.

Charlie flapped the parchment in front of Ginny again, losing patience with her stalling.

“Do it, Ginny,” Molly ordered.

“No!” she retorted defiantly. “You can’t make me.”

“If you don’t, so help me, I’ll snap your wands!”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed, “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me,” Molly threatened; she clenched the two thin strips of wood (the symbols of such power now seeming vulnerable and too easily breakable) by the ends and hovered them over her bent knee. Suddenly, they were all reminded that this was the same ferocious witch that had had the guts, determination and power to take out the maddest, most ruthless Death Eater of all-- Bellatrix Lestrange. Molly Weasley was NOT someone to be trifled with or defied; she was capable of great and terrible feats when so pushed.

“Fine!” the teen witch seethed and scrawled her name on the blank line and a collective sigh of relief sounded in the room from everyone (except Ginny, of course).

There was a flash of blue light and the dissolution document disappeared. (Harry would have been surprised if Hermione hadn’t explained beforehand that it would automatically register on file when it got the appropriate signatures placed on it.) “My key!” Ginny shrieked in horror and she clasped her hand to her chest and then pulled the chain around her neck out of her robe, looking grief-stricken at the empty space where her ticket to the Potter Vault had (apparently) rested.

Hermione looked smug; she’d obviously preemptively worked out that piece of the puzzle and put protections in place. Ron wrapped his arm around his brilliant girlfriend and kissed the side of her head.

Ginny gave Hermione a look of pure hatred before turning to her mother, hand out-stretched. “I’ll thank you for our wands now.”

“So you can spout off a string of nasty hexes at us? I don’t think so. Now go up to the attic and wait there until your father and I decide what to do with you!”

“I’m not a child you can order about and punish, Mother!”

“I most certainly can while you remain under my roof and insist on conducting yourself like one!” Ginny found herself defenseless and facing down five wands trained on her. “It truly sickens me to see what you’ve become! Now get out of my sight!

“This isn’t over!” she screamed as she fled up the stairs; her mother muttered, ‘not for you, daughter-dearest…. but for Harry, yes.’ They heard a door slam and then Molly pointed and cast several warding spells towards the top-most story of her home. There was a sudden racket of shouting and banging on the locked door that was imprisoning them-- until she shot a ‘Silencio’ as well.

And then she crumpled and collapsed (thankfully on the clean, unused bed) when the rush of adrenaline was over. Charlie immediately sat beside her and wound his arm around her shoulders as she started to sob. “What you all must think of me! I should have known, I should have seen what Ginevra was doing! Why didn’t I notice?” The dragon-handler hushed and shushed his mum. “I need Arthur. I need Arthur!” she began getting a little hysterical.

Ron mumbled that he’d go track him down at the Ministry and made his way to the Floo. (He was happy to be of help that didn’t include consoling an emotional female!)

Hermione-- unsure of how she would be regarded after facilitating her daughter’s dissolved marriage-- spoke up hesitantly. “None of us knew how bad it had gotten…. Something didn’t seem quite right but we didn’t know the extent of things until we accidently overheard Ginny berating him on Christmas Eve…. And even later after we found Harry that he’d known that Ginny was cheating on him since at least Halloween, and that she’d manipulated him into marriage…. Don’t blame yourself, Mrs. Weasley. Would you like tea?”

She had calmed a bit during Hermione’s speech; Molly looked up and gave her a watery smile. “Best make it an Old Ogden’s, dear. And thank you…. for everything,” she said softly, patting the young witch’s hand and giving her a look that could only mean that she wished that Hermione was her daughter instead of the girl upstairs that truly was.

Once Hermione left for the kitchen, Molly gave Harry a sad look of sincere supplication. “Can you ever forgive me?” Her eyes over-flowed again.

Harry sat by her other side and gave her a one-armed hug. “There’s nothing to forgive, Mrs. Weasley—MOLLY!” (He quickly corrected himself when she’d wailed that he was so upset with her that couldn’t even speak her first name) “It’s not your fault.” He was pleased to feel Charlie reach around and start to rub small circles on his back.

Bolstered by her two boys comforting her, she blurted out, “I’m SO sorry she put you through all that! I don’t even understand where she’s gotten such a sense of entitlement! I was listening to her and it was like a stranger was standing there. I don’t know what happened, she used to be such a sweet girl….”

“Maybe it all just went to her head,” Harry supplied, trying to give the distraught mother some hope that her offspring wasn’t truly rotten to the core; he certainly believed that— it was likely that Ginny, suddenly gaining so much monetary wealth, was like a kid who’d never tasted sugar might binge uncontrollably if left unsupervised in Honeydukes overnight.

“You don’t have to make excuses for her, you know,” Charlie murmured.

“I know,” he answered. “But maybe she went overboard little by little, the more she was getting away with, the more she felt it was ok to take….”

Molly turned to him, “You are entirely too kind and gracious for your own good. It’s one of your qualities that makes you so darn lovable.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Hermione agreed as she appeared with a tumbler of amber liquid and the rest of a bottle of Firewhiskey (which Molly promptly knocked back and refilled).

Ron and Arthur emerged a moment later; the redheaded teen hung anxiously by the door— Mr. Weasley rushed to his wife’s side that was immediately surrendered by Charlie. Molly gave Harry one last squeeze, and then cupped his cheeks looking directly into his eyes. “You have always been family, son. You always will be-- no matter what.” Her intensity radiated off of her in waves. “You got that, mister?” Harry could only nod in acceptance.

“Go on, then, kids,” she gently pushed Harry to stand. “Thanks for all your help, but Arthur and I will talk over what to do from here. Don’t you worry about anything. We’ll take care of it.” They were all stuck in indecision, wondering if they really should leave. “Go on! Shoo! You four should relax-- It’s been a trying morning. And go have some fun! Lord knows you need it!”

No one really knew what to say (but they knew better than to argue) so they hugged Molly good-bye, squeezed the bewildered patriarch on the arm and hoped for the best as they descended the stairs and made their way to the hearth.

~O~

A/N: Well, I hope you all liked that one…. My jobs have been kicking my ass this week and will for the next, so I wanted to post the second part when I got it done instead of waiting until I finished the third section, (which I initially thought would be included in this one). A lot of you lovely fans seem anxious for more, so I decided I’d give it to you.

Originally, when I thought of the idea for this story, this show-down was much more low-key; Ginny fights it but eventually admits that nothing worked out the way she’d expected and it really was better that they were splitting up. But as I actually wrote the chapters, she just kept getting bitchier and bitchier, doing worse and more horrible things— pretty much making her character irredeemable. Molly got all the sympathy and understanding on this one…. I’m pretty sure I’ve crossed the line into the realm of ‘Ginny-bashing’, which I didn’t really set out to do….. (maybe I should change my mention of that in the preface….)

Anyway, I hope you come back for the next go— Harry is finally able to celebrate and start to explore his new freedom! He parties HARD…. And now that he’s got a TASTE for it…. He wants MORE! ;)
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