Paternity

Chapter Twenty-two
Question

Draco wasn't bothering to come to the dining hall for his meals anymore. Since his fellow Slytherins had all found some way of going home for the last part of the holiday, that would have left Harry and Ron alone in the echoing dining hall. They were given permission to take their meals in the Gryffindor common room, and they were just as pleased. As Ron said, never mind ghosts--what was really creepy was such a large space that was meant to be full of motion and noise being so bloody still and quiet.

They were finishing up their breakfast when Golwoggle scurried in. "Mister Wheezy, sir, there do be a great feathery owly-bird in Great Hall, looking for you. He be making an awful fuss."

Ron wiped his mouth with a napkin as he stood up. "That'll be Pigwidgeon come back from The Burrow."

"I'll come with you," said Harry, getting up. "Golwoggle, we're done with that, if you want to take it back and save yourself a trip."

"Sir do be good, wanting to save us work."

Harry shook his head as they went out into the hall. "I'm telling him to do work, and he's praising me for my consideration."

"Well, Harry, he's a house elf. Their thought processes are different, yeah? I mean, who but a house elf would see Pig as a 'great bird'?" The little owl was perched on the newel post at the base of the main staircase. When he saw Ron he bounced up and down, hooting excitedly. "Yeah, yeah. Don't have a spasm, Pig." He stroked the little bird's breast feathers before he reached down and untied the small scroll that was tied to his leg.

"You've gotten fond of him, haven't you?" said Harry, amused. "I remember how ticked you were when they sent him off here with you."

"Well," Ron drawled, unrolling the scroll. "He isn't much, but he tries. He bloody well gives it his all whenever he does a job. You wouldn't happen to have a mouse on you, would you?"

Harry laughed in surprise. "Depends on what you mean by 'mouse'." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Ron tried not to laugh, but ended up snorting. "The sort that runs about on the floor and squeaks, and you're an odd bird, but not even you are THAT odd, Potter. I meant for Pig. He's come a long way."

"No mice, but I think I have..." Harry was digging in his pocket. "I've got a Gummi worm here. It's cherry, I think, but it's a bit hard to tell through the lint." He held it up. "What say, Pig?"

Pig hooted excitedly, and Ron said, "Like a bit of lint would put him off. He eats the mice fur, bones, and all, Harry." The owl nipped the end of the candy worm and began to eat it, bobbing his head and jerking up a bit at a time, like spaghetti. Ron was reading the scroll, and he sighed.

"What is it?" asked Harry. "Nothing wrong at home?"

"Not really, I suppose." He sat down on the stairs rather abruptly.

Harry frowned, sitting beside him. "Something IS wrong. What is it? Tell me."

"Mum just let me know that there's going to be a family reunion this weekend, and I'm expected."

"Oh."

Ron let his head drop onto his knees. "She doesn't say so explicitly, but I read between the lines that if I don't show up someone will be coming through the fire to collect me. You know why she's doing this."

"She's concerned about you being away from the family during this time. She's been trying to persuade you to come home all summer, and I can't blame her for..."

"It's because she knows that I haven't told anyone else in the family. She figures that if I'm at home, surrounded by them, I won't be able to hold my tongue, and I'll let it slip."

"Are you going to go?"

"What do you think? D'you think I really want someone showing up here to haul me back? They WOULD, you know. With my luck she'd send Fred and George." He gave Harry an appealing look. "Come with me? I'm sure Dumbledore will give you permission."

"I agree, but I'd come whether he gave permission or not."

"Thanks, Harry. I just might survive it if you're with me."

Harry shrugged. "Well, they're sort of my in-laws, aren't they? I was with you when Arthur and Molly found out, so I think I ought to be there when the rest learn the truth. But are you going to tell them all at once, or one at a time?"

"Oh, lord! I dunno--all at once, I guess. Get it over with." He blew out a breath, and stood up. "I guess I might as well go RSVP and get it over with." He looked around. "Let's see--where's the nearest fireplace?"

Harry pointed to the small room opening off the front hall. "There's one in the Boot Room."

They went into the room that was set aside for the rubber boots that were such a necessary part of a Hogwarts wardrobe. A pair of shoes wouldn't last long between the rain and the snow if the owner didn't wear his Wellies. Without some means to heat and dry it, the room would have been perpetually clammy, so there was a small fireplace at one end. Though it wasn't likely to be used during the summer, the industrious house elves had long ago cleaned it and laid fresh kindling and a log. Ron said, "This is going to be a short talk, so we won't be needing the log."

"Get your hand away from that log, Weasley," Harry said firmly, shouldering him aside. "You know better than that."

Ron leaned back against the wall as Harry moved the log off to the side. "Gosh, Harry--you're so strong and dominant."

"Thank God there was a smirk in your voice when you said that," said Harry, standing up and dusting his hands.

"Shove over. I can light it without any strain." Harry moved aside in the narrow room as Ron pulled his wand and gestured at the kindling, invoking an ignition spell. Harry remembered when the most Ron could manage was choking smoke, but this time small, clear flames flickered up briskly. Ron pulled a twist of flame talking power out of his pocket, tossed it in the flames and said clearly, "The Barrow, parlor fire." He glanced over at Harry, saying, "We always keep a small one going there, just in case, and there's an notification spell. Anyone on the grounds will know they have a call. They..."

"Ron!" The man's voice was clearly pleased. Arthur Weasley's head had appeared in the fire, and he was peering out at Harry and Ron. "My, that was quick. You must have just gotten the message."

"Yeah," said Ron. "I'm surprised that Pig didn't burst his heart, flying up here. So... I didn't know we were planning a reunion this year."

Arthur cleared his throat. "It's... It's not exactly spontaneous, but, well... We found that Charlie and William will be in country, and Percy has some time off at the ministry. Your mother just thought that..."

"A-ha! Might have known."

"Now Ron..."

"Don't worry, Dad. I wouldn't have expected any less. She wouldn't be Mum if she didn't try. Tell her that I'll be there--me and Harry both."

"You'll stay the weekend."

"Dad--I don't know." When he saw the disappointment in his father's expression he said, "We'll stay the night at least, but I'll have to see how things go."

"Fair enough." He was quiet for a moment, then said, "Son, I want to tell you how proud I am of the way you're handling this. I just..." He cleared his throat again. The flames started to flicker. "It looks like it's going out on your end, so we'll see you this weekend, then. Good-bye." The flames died.

Ron sighed. "Just when I think that Mum's the sentimental one." They started back to the common room. "So, Harry--who do you vote to have the most violent reaction? Fred and George? Or possibly Percy?"

"I dunno. Though..." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Spit it out."

"Ginny's going to be home, isn't she?"

"I'd be bloody surprised if she wasn't. Mum isn't going to let anyone off. You've seen that she's pulling them in from abroad."

"Well, if Ginny's home, there's a good chance that Hermione's paying a visit as well, and..."

"Oh, HELL!" moaned Ron. "Just when you think things can't get any thicker."

Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Cheer up. You know how 'Minie is. There's a good chance that she'll praise you for being a pioneer in gender equality by choosing to bear a child."

"I don't deserve any applause for that. It's not like I went looking for it."

"No. But Ron," said Harry gently, "You didn't have to keep it." Ron was silent. "You knew that was an option, even when you didn't quite believe it was real."

Ron gave him a level look. "No. It was never an option, Harry--not for me."

They were outside the portrait of the fat lady. Harry paused and gave Ron a hug, and a gently kiss. "I know," he said softly. "That's one of the reasons I love you. Even if it was Malfoy's..."

"Harry..."

Harry talked over him. "Yeah, it's mine. But even if it WAS Malfoy's, you wouldn't have decided any different."

"No, I wouldn't. No kid can choose who brings him into the world. Some of us are luckier than others."

"Some of us get parents that know what it's really about."

~*~

"Narcissa," said Lucius. "I want to ask you a theoretical question."

Narcissa, who'd been contemplating whether or not she ought to have dressing on her salad or a squeeze of lemon (Lucius was snide if he thought she'd gained a pound. She didn't want to think of how he might react if he decided she'd gained more than that). She didn't like this. She didn't like it at all. The last time Lucius had asked ther a 'theoretical question' it had been 'do you think that, through Herculean effort, you could manage to get through a party without embarrassing him?'. Since the party in question was already over, the question was obviously moot. It must have been a small embarrassment, because it had been a short, almost off-hand beating. Narcissa had learned to live with a lot, but she was still apprehensive. Lucius had been both broody and on edge lately. He was always difficult, even at his best, but she knew very well that this combination was dangerous. There was no dodging this, though. "What is it, Lucius?"

She had no idea what she'd expected, but it wasn't what she got. "I know that you had precious little to with the day-to-day raising of Draco. Do you think you could fake being a nurturing, competent mother enough to fool a council of wizards?" Narcissa dropped her fork with a clatter, and her husband scowled. "To start with, we can't have that. They'll think that you'll drop the brat on it's no doubt pointed head."

"Lucius... you can't be serious."

His eyes narrowed. "You're aware of Draco's predicament."

"But you said that it might not even be his child--probably wasn't. And in any case he could plausibly deny responsibility, and the Weasleys weren't likely to protest any denial. They don't WANT a connection with us."

"Ah." Lucius purred, "And when, my dear, have I been overyly concerned with what the Weasleys do, or do not, want?"

"You can't be serious. You wouldn't try to take the child for spite."

Lucius' voice turned cold. "Of course not. That would be petty, and I am not a petty man." Narcissa quickly ate a bite of bread. She knew better than to comment on that statement, but sometimes it was just safer to be sure that COULDN'T rather than hope taht she wouldn't slip. "No, but I see possibilities in this situation."

"But why on earth are you..." She'd been about to say 'dragging me into this', but she thought better of it and amended her words to, "consulting me?"

He sneered. "Consulting. I'm simply trying to assess whether or not you'll present an acceptable front if we end up having to fight for the child. I've little doubt that the Weasleys will want to raise it in their own warm, copious, and dead common bosum, and I want to be able to show anyone given charge of the decision that we could provide the more desirable environment." He sniffed. "We can financially, of course, but the idiots pick the most inconvenient times to be soppy and sentimental. The thing we need to show them, Narcissa, is that if we take the baby it will be in a more traditional family unit. You and I could raise it, and Draco could function as an elder brother, or uncle. Something like that. If they leave it with the Weasleys." He sneered. "Potter and Weasley--two underage boys in an unnatural relationship."

"Lucius, our own son was..." She realized her mistake when she saw the color flooding his pale face. Hastily she said, "I wouldn't mind offering myself as a caregiver. I'd have pletny of help with the house elves, and we could certainly afford a nurse, and a nanny later. But I think that you're making a mistake if you try to present yourself as the paternal caregiver." Lucius frowned, but made a 'contiue' motion with his hand. "There are few things that the mainstream wizarding community condemns as harshly as someone abandoning their young--IN ANY WAY. If Draco makes it clear that he wants this baby, needs it, will do ANYTHING to raise it--that would sway them more than our bank balance at Gringott's."

Lucius was silent, and Narcissa's nervousness was growing. Then he said, "By the Dark Powers. Narcissa--you're making sense." He said it in the same way that someone might say 'Look! Dogs playing chess!'--as if it was a surprise bordering on shock.

Lucius stood up, and Narcissa said, "You haven't had youor sweet yet."

"Oh, don't bother me, woman." He started toward the door. "I need to get to the library and write a note to Draco. I want him to come home at once, so I can drill him in strategy and sincerity. I won't have him lose me this chance by being unprepared." He strode out.

Narcissa closed her eyes. *Harry. Ron. My own Draco, and that poor little bit who is scarcely more than a spark of life." She pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. "So much potential to hurt so many children.*