Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed!
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Coming Home
Chapter 2: London Again
Ginny found a seat in a corner of the small coffee house and settled in with her coffee and croissant to watch the other patrons. She had been in London for about ten days, and had come to this place every morning since she arrived. It was cozy and close to her flat, and they made the coffee strong, just as she liked it.
Remus once again had been a huge help to her. He had found her the perfect flat. It was just a little too modern for Ginny's tastes, but it was large and comfortable. It was in a Muggle neighborhood, but was only a fifteen minute walk from the Leaky Cauldron, and had a fireplace that could be hooked up to the Floo Network when she was ready for it. And this quaint Muggle coffee house was just around the corner, surrounded by interesting shops of all kinds. Ginny had begun exploring some of them, but was saving the more intriguing ones for later, when Evan could join her.
Ginny had decided that she should return to England first, without Evan. She wanted everything to be relatively settled by the time he arrived. More importantly, she wanted to make the first overtures to her family without Evan. She was terrified about how they would react. She knew that she could handle whatever they threw at her (wooden spoons, perhaps, in her mother's case). She had years of experience, after all, even if it had been a long time ago. But if they were angry with her, she didn't want Evan to have to see it--she knew he would somehow think it was his fault. He was just like his father in that way. She didn't think her family would reject her, not seriously, but it was still a possibility. If Evan met his new family just to have them reject him, she would not be able to handle it. So she would wait to bring him over until she was reasonably sure they would accept him fully.
Ginny sipped her coffee slowly, and watched the people come and go. She had started to recognize some of the regulars, and they had started to recognize her. Many of them smiled or nodded at her now. They seemed to be of all different races and economic backgrounds. What they had in common seemed to be little eccentricities, which made them quite amusing to watch. There was a woman whose eyes were almost yellow, who carefully picked through the identical sugar cubes, looking for just the right one. There was an aloof looking blond man who always added a precise amount of cream to his coffee, then stirred it exactly five times counterclockwise in a way that reminded her of stirring a potion. But her favorite patron was an elderly lady whose curly white hair matched that of her miniature poodle. She would come in each morning to buy a cup of warm frothed milk, then hold the cup so her dog could drink it. She never bought anything for herself. Ginny finally finished her coffee, then smiled at the blond man and stopped to pet the poodle before setting out for her day.
Ginny had spent the first couple of days readjusting to life in England. On one hand, it felt like home, but she had been gone long enough that it felt unfamiliar as well. It took her a while to readjust to the softer English accents, accustomed as she was to the flattened vowels of native Chicagoans. And the city smelled different. She couldn't pinpoint the distinction, but it was there. The thought crossed her mind that it could be age. London's roots extend back to the Roman empire, and she could almost feel the age of the city in her bones. She felt that Chicago, in contrast, flaunted its modernity. On the whole, she found London's rhythms more comfortable, but after she got lost for the umpteenth time, she acknowledged that modernity had its advantages--such as planned cities where the addresses followed a regular pattern.
Ginny finally found the place she was looking for, a small clinic that catered to the elderly residents of a run-down part of town. Once she had readjusted herself to London, she had started looking for a job, which was turning out to be harder than she had thought it would be. Her first job in Chicago had been a mindless one, pushing papers in an office. She quickly decided that she needed to train for something more interesting. Remembering how much she had enjoyed helping Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing during the time Harry had spent there, she enrolled in nursing school. Once she had finished, she worked as a nurse in a maternity ward. She had hoped to find similar work in London, but learned that her American credentials were looked upon with some disdain here. So she had started looking for jobs that were considered slightly disreputable and therefore had trouble recruiting help. She hoped they would be desperate enough to consider her. This clinic was the last one she knew of that had an opening, and she was a bit worried about the interview.
She was greeted warmly by Dr. Perry, who led the clinic. He was round and jolly and seemed to laugh at the slightest provocation. Despite the fact that his eyes were hazel rather than blue, their sparkle reminded her of Professor Dumbledore. He didn't blink at her qualifications, and waved a hand in dismissal as she explained about the fact that she was a single mother so she might not be able to make it to work sometimes if her son was sick. He took her on a tour of the clinic and introduced her to some of the patients as "our new nurse" even though they hadn't settled anything yet. They all smiled and greeted her happily, and as she left, Dr. Perry said, "Let us know when you can begin, maybe in a month or so, once you and your son have settled a bit. We're looking forward to having you here!"
She had a job! It might not have been the best job in the world at first glance, but the people seemed nice, and that was half the battle. And they were willing to wait quite a while for her to start, which she never would have expected. Maybe it would be a better job than she thought. She felt real happiness for the first time since she had returned to London. She headed toward the tube and home.
Ginny was digging in her bag, searching for her change purse, when she turned the corner into a small square. Preoccupied with what she was doing, she didn't look up immediately, but when she did, she froze. The square was eerily familiar. She looked around, trying to figure out what it reminded her of. Then she saw the house, and the memories flooded back.
She was in Grimmauld Place, former home of Sirius Black and the Order of the Phoenix. She had spent more time than she had cared to in that house, and few of her memories of it were pleasant. The drudgery of cleaning. The panic of waiting to know if her father would live or die. Harry's pain when he thought he was possessed. The thought of Harry opened her mind to other memories. Everything she had tried to forget by leaving London came crashing down on her then. She stumbled frantically out of the square, hurrying blindly away from it and everything it represented. She never remembered how she made it home.
***
Ginny spent two days in her bed before Remus came and literally dragged her out of it. He forced her to eat and bathe, which helped her feel a little bit better. But it was his speech about "not wallowing in self-pity--after all it has been ten years and you do need to be strong for Evan" that snapped her out of it. She yelled at him for several minutes before calming down again. That really made her feel better. He congratulated her on finding a job, then said, "I think it is time you start facing your family, but you should start small. I'll arrange for Fred and George to come to lunch tomorrow and you will be there." Ginny snapped some more. She wasn't ready for her family yet, though she realized that she probably never would be. Maybe this was what she needed.
So now Ginny found herself back in the coffee house, moodily poking at the whipped cream she impulsively ordered. She wasn't watching the people as she usually did, so she was startled when someone spoke to her.
"What's the matter?" She looked up to see that the blond coffee-stirrer had seated himself at her table.
"What makes you think something is wrong?"
"Well, you do tend to wear your emotions displayed clearly on your face." She looked at him in confusion, but he just laughed. It was a nice laugh, she thought, deep and warm.
"Everyday it is something different. Excitement, confusion, frustration, amusement. Today you look as if the world is going to end. And there is also the fact that you were missing the last two days. So tell me, what's wrong?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"Why not? Sometimes it helps to tell your troubles to a complete stranger. Someone who doesn't give a damn."
She laughed at this and he raised an eyebrow in question.
"And you, of course, don't give a damn?"
"Of course," he said, smirking.
"I tried that once, talking to a stranger. And the person I told is now my best friend." She smiled at the thought of Elsa.
"So, it worked once. Want to try again? I promise I'll go back to just being that bloke in the coffee house again afterwards, if you want me to do."
"I suppose it couldn't hurt." They smiled at each other and Ginny took a deep breath and began.
"Well, it started many years ago, when I was still in school. I got married very young, and my husband died somewhat tragically. He was only 18 years old at the time. I was distraught and everything reminded me of him. And I was pregnant and didn't want to raise my child in that situation. So I left, more or less without a trace. A friend helped me go and kept my location and my pregnancy secret from my family. But I recently realized, with much prodding from my friend, that my son deserves to know his family. My husband never really knew his, and it was one of the things he most regretted, and I realized that I was forcing the same thing on Evan. And he wants so much to know his family and find out about his father. So I decided to come back, and here I am, though Evan is still in Chicago. Things are going well for the most part. I have a flat and a job lined up. But a couple of days ago I had a bit of a shock that brought back all of my memories about my husband. I had thought I had gotten to the point where thoughts of him hurt less, but now I'm not so sure. And today I have to start facing my family. I'm sure they're going to be angry because I left and stayed away for so long. I suppose I deserve it, but I am dreading it as well."
"Why should they be angry? They'll probably be happy to see you."
"Well, the two I am seeing today may be. They were always my favorite brothers. I have a big family and had a tendency to get lost in it. But they always understood me. When I grew up, they treated me accordingly. Everyone else seemed to think I was still the baby. So they might have accepted my decision. But I have been out of communication for ages, and I have hidden Evan from them. Everyone in my family has a huge temper, probably because of the red hair. I guess I'm afraid of what might happen."
"If these brothers saw you as you really were, and usually understood you, maybe they understood why you left. And if you were completely out of communication, they should have no reason to think you would have told them about your son. You did what you needed to do. There is nothing wrong with that, and if they love you, they'll see it that way."
"Gee, you have all the answers, don't you?" she asked sarcastically.
"No," he said, grinning. "I'm just playing Devil's Advocate. It's my specialty!"
"Ah, so the truth comes out!" she answered, laughing a bit.
"Plus, there's no use worrying about it."
"You're probably right. And it's my mum I am really concerned about."
"Probably? There's no probably about it. I am right."
"You sure aren't lacking in self-confidence, are you?"
"No. What would be the point? Anyway, good luck with your brothers," he said as he stood to leave.
"Thank you. Talking to you did help."
"You're welcome. And if you want to tell me about what happens with your brothers, I'd be happy to hear..."
"Or you could just go back to being the bloke in the coffeehouse, right?" she asked, smiling a bit.
"Right," he said, then added with a smirk, "But I'll still know how it went. It will be written all over your face." And then he was gone, but she heard him laughing as he went.
"Git," she mumbled fondly, and grinned all the way back to her flat.
***
Ginny's stomach was in knots as she mounted the stairs to Remus's flat. Despite the assurances of the man in the coffee house, she was still nervous. What if they hated her?
When Remus opened the door, he asked her to stay outside for a moment. He went back in and said, "Fred and George, I asked you here today because there is someone I want you to meet." He gestured for Ginny to enter and she stepped just inside the door, apprehension clear on her face. The two identical red heads looked at her blankly for a moment, then their jaws dropped open simultaneously.
One of them managed to whisper, "Ginny?" She nodded shyly.
And then she was engulfed in their arms and could barely breathe. Remus eventually pried the twins off Ginny and they beamed at her.
"It's so good to see you!" said the one she thought was Fred. It had been so long, she wasn't sure she could tell them apart anymore.
"You have no idea! We missed you!" added probably-George.
"I missed you too," she said quietly.
"Well, of course you did!"
"Who wouldn't miss us?"
"We are..."
"...of course..."
"...the best brothers..."
"...on the planet!"
Ginny found herself laughing harder than she had in a long time. They twins were still very much their old selves. And they seemed genuinely happy that she was back. Over lunch, she told them all about her life in Chicago, with one notable exception.
Fred and George filled her in on the Weasleys. Remus had told her a lot of the news over the years, but the twins told it all in such a way that she laughed the whole way through.
Bill was still working for Gringotts, but was based in London. He still had long hair and an earring, which his mother was still complaining about. She never realized that it was futile, as Bill's wife very much approved. He had married Fleur Delacour before Ginny had left, and Ginny had known about her pregnancy. Their first son was a few months older than Evan. They then had had two more in quick succession, at which point Fleur decided that enough was enough. She had had her tubes tied magically, much to Molly's chagrin, as she hoped for lots more grandbabies.
Charlie was still working with dragons in Romania. Fred and George speculated wildly about why he had never given in to his mother's demands that he find a nice girl and settle down, or at least bring a girlfriend home. They theorized that there was a girl, but he was ashamed of her because she was from too good a family. Or that the girlfriend couldn't come home with him as she was, in fact, a dragon. Though they confided in Ginny that they really suspected that Charlie was gay.
Percy was still a prat. He had made amends with the family after the war, but the twins still didn't trust him entirely. He was now head of the Pest Advisory Bureau at the Ministry of Magic, and would bore you on the dangers of bundimuns if he got the chance. Somehow, he had managed to reproduce. Fred and George still wondered about Penelope's sanity occasionally, but their attempt to have her involuntarily admitted to St. Mungo's for observation was thwarted by the fact that she was a healer there and her colleagues found her to be quite sane, thank you very much. Percy's son Pembroke was a perfect replica of himself, down to the horn-rimmed glasses and stiff gait, but his daughter Priscilla was a true hellion. Fred and George were quite proud of her, and kept her supplied with all of their latest gags so she could make her father's life hell.
Ron and Hermione had married soon after Harry's death. Ron now worked as an Auror, and had been trained by Mad-Eye Moody himself. Hermione did research on who-knows-what in the Department of Mysteries. They lived quietly, and tried, usually unsuccessfully, to avoid the press, who were still obsessed with them even now. They had one child, a six-year-old son they had (of course) named Harry. His passions were books and Quidditch, and the whole family doted on him.
And Fred and George themselves were pretty much the same as they ever had been. Their shop in Diagon Alley was flourishing.
"Well, we do have several of the best and brightest Hogwarts students on our payroll," George explained.
"Oh, yes. They are invaluable for helping us meet the needs of the current batch of students," Fred said with false solemnity.
"And we convinced some idiot to invest in the business!"
"Prat's going to help us open a shop in Hogsmeade!"
"We managed to convince him that we could ‘better serve the Hogwarts community' there."
"And he believed it! The Galleons just keep rolling in!"
"Other than that, not much has changed for us."
"Except that George has a girlfriend!" Fred taunted. George blushed and explained that he was seeing Natalie McDonald, who had been a Gryffindor two years behind Ginny. She smiled. A girlfriend would be good for George. Fred, too, for that matter. She would have to work on that.
Silence fell over the group for a few minutes, and Ginny realized that she didn't have all of the news after all.
"How are Mum and Dad?" she asked.
Fred and George looked at each other, then back at Ginny. "Well," George said rather carefully, "Dad is about the same as ever. Still puttering around with all of the Muggle stuff."
"And Mum?" Ginny asked.
"You have to understand, Ginny," Fred began. "George and I saw how you reacted to Harry's death and..."
"And it wasn't too big a surprise for us when you left."
"But to Mum... It was like losing another child."
"She didn't understand how you could go like you did. Still doesn't really."
"She doesn't talk about you anymore."
"We think she gave up on you ever coming back."
"After all, it has been ten years."
"Ginny, why did you wait so long?" George asked.
Ginny looked at Remus, who smiled reassuringly. She sighed, took a deep breath, and said, "Fred, George, there is one thing I haven't told you about my life."
"What is it, Gin?" asked George. (She had figured out which twin was which by this point.)
"Come on, spill! It can't be that bad, can it?" This was from Fred.
"Well, we'll see what you think when I tell you." She braced herself and continued, "When I left, I was pregnant. I didn't tell anyone but Harry. I have a nine year old son."
"You're a mum?"
"Harry has a son?"
"What's his name?"
"Do you have a picture?"
All of this came out very quickly as they moved in to hug her again. Once she caught her breath, she answered "His name is Evan James Potter, after Harry's parents. And what kind of mother would I be if I didn't have a picture?"
Fred and George looked at the proffered photograph solemnly.
"Oh the poor kid!" Fred exclaimed.
"Yeah," said George sadly. "He looks just like Harry!"
A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed!
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Coming Home
Chapter 2: London Again
Ginny found a seat in a corner of the small coffee house and settled in with her coffee and croissant to watch the other patrons. She had been in London for about ten days, and had come to this place every morning since she arrived. It was cozy and close to her flat, and they made the coffee strong, just as she liked it.
Remus once again had been a huge help to her. He had found her the perfect flat. It was just a little too modern for Ginny's tastes, but it was large and comfortable. It was in a Muggle neighborhood, but was only a fifteen minute walk from the Leaky Cauldron, and had a fireplace that could be hooked up to the Floo Network when she was ready for it. And this quaint Muggle coffee house was just around the corner, surrounded by interesting shops of all kinds. Ginny had begun exploring some of them, but was saving the more intriguing ones for later, when Evan could join her.
Ginny had decided that she should return to England first, without Evan. She wanted everything to be relatively settled by the time he arrived. More importantly, she wanted to make the first overtures to her family without Evan. She was terrified about how they would react. She knew that she could handle whatever they threw at her (wooden spoons, perhaps, in her mother's case). She had years of experience, after all, even if it had been a long time ago. But if they were angry with her, she didn't want Evan to have to see it--she knew he would somehow think it was his fault. He was just like his father in that way. She didn't think her family would reject her, not seriously, but it was still a possibility. If Evan met his new family just to have them reject him, she would not be able to handle it. So she would wait to bring him over until she was reasonably sure they would accept him fully.
Ginny sipped her coffee slowly, and watched the people come and go. She had started to recognize some of the regulars, and they had started to recognize her. Many of them smiled or nodded at her now. They seemed to be of all different races and economic backgrounds. What they had in common seemed to be little eccentricities, which made them quite amusing to watch. There was a woman whose eyes were almost yellow, who carefully picked through the identical sugar cubes, looking for just the right one. There was an aloof looking blond man who always added a precise amount of cream to his coffee, then stirred it exactly five times counterclockwise in a way that reminded her of stirring a potion. But her favorite patron was an elderly lady whose curly white hair matched that of her miniature poodle. She would come in each morning to buy a cup of warm frothed milk, then hold the cup so her dog could drink it. She never bought anything for herself. Ginny finally finished her coffee, then smiled at the blond man and stopped to pet the poodle before setting out for her day.
Ginny had spent the first couple of days readjusting to life in England. On one hand, it felt like home, but she had been gone long enough that it felt unfamiliar as well. It took her a while to readjust to the softer English accents, accustomed as she was to the flattened vowels of native Chicagoans. And the city smelled different. She couldn't pinpoint the distinction, but it was there. The thought crossed her mind that it could be age. London's roots extend back to the Roman empire, and she could almost feel the age of the city in her bones. She felt that Chicago, in contrast, flaunted its modernity. On the whole, she found London's rhythms more comfortable, but after she got lost for the umpteenth time, she acknowledged that modernity had its advantages--such as planned cities where the addresses followed a regular pattern.
Ginny finally found the place she was looking for, a small clinic that catered to the elderly residents of a run-down part of town. Once she had readjusted herself to London, she had started looking for a job, which was turning out to be harder than she had thought it would be. Her first job in Chicago had been a mindless one, pushing papers in an office. She quickly decided that she needed to train for something more interesting. Remembering how much she had enjoyed helping Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing during the time Harry had spent there, she enrolled in nursing school. Once she had finished, she worked as a nurse in a maternity ward. She had hoped to find similar work in London, but learned that her American credentials were looked upon with some disdain here. So she had started looking for jobs that were considered slightly disreputable and therefore had trouble recruiting help. She hoped they would be desperate enough to consider her. This clinic was the last one she knew of that had an opening, and she was a bit worried about the interview.
She was greeted warmly by Dr. Perry, who led the clinic. He was round and jolly and seemed to laugh at the slightest provocation. Despite the fact that his eyes were hazel rather than blue, their sparkle reminded her of Professor Dumbledore. He didn't blink at her qualifications, and waved a hand in dismissal as she explained about the fact that she was a single mother so she might not be able to make it to work sometimes if her son was sick. He took her on a tour of the clinic and introduced her to some of the patients as "our new nurse" even though they hadn't settled anything yet. They all smiled and greeted her happily, and as she left, Dr. Perry said, "Let us know when you can begin, maybe in a month or so, once you and your son have settled a bit. We're looking forward to having you here!"
She had a job! It might not have been the best job in the world at first glance, but the people seemed nice, and that was half the battle. And they were willing to wait quite a while for her to start, which she never would have expected. Maybe it would be a better job than she thought. She felt real happiness for the first time since she had returned to London. She headed toward the tube and home.
Ginny was digging in her bag, searching for her change purse, when she turned the corner into a small square. Preoccupied with what she was doing, she didn't look up immediately, but when she did, she froze. The square was eerily familiar. She looked around, trying to figure out what it reminded her of. Then she saw the house, and the memories flooded back.
She was in Grimmauld Place, former home of Sirius Black and the Order of the Phoenix. She had spent more time than she had cared to in that house, and few of her memories of it were pleasant. The drudgery of cleaning. The panic of waiting to know if her father would live or die. Harry's pain when he thought he was possessed. The thought of Harry opened her mind to other memories. Everything she had tried to forget by leaving London came crashing down on her then. She stumbled frantically out of the square, hurrying blindly away from it and everything it represented. She never remembered how she made it home.
***
Ginny spent two days in her bed before Remus came and literally dragged her out of it. He forced her to eat and bathe, which helped her feel a little bit better. But it was his speech about "not wallowing in self-pity--after all it has been ten years and you do need to be strong for Evan" that snapped her out of it. She yelled at him for several minutes before calming down again. That really made her feel better. He congratulated her on finding a job, then said, "I think it is time you start facing your family, but you should start small. I'll arrange for Fred and George to come to lunch tomorrow and you will be there." Ginny snapped some more. She wasn't ready for her family yet, though she realized that she probably never would be. Maybe this was what she needed.
So now Ginny found herself back in the coffee house, moodily poking at the whipped cream she impulsively ordered. She wasn't watching the people as she usually did, so she was startled when someone spoke to her.
"What's the matter?" She looked up to see that the blond coffee-stirrer had seated himself at her table.
"What makes you think something is wrong?"
"Well, you do tend to wear your emotions displayed clearly on your face." She looked at him in confusion, but he just laughed. It was a nice laugh, she thought, deep and warm.
"Everyday it is something different. Excitement, confusion, frustration, amusement. Today you look as if the world is going to end. And there is also the fact that you were missing the last two days. So tell me, what's wrong?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"Why not? Sometimes it helps to tell your troubles to a complete stranger. Someone who doesn't give a damn."
She laughed at this and he raised an eyebrow in question.
"And you, of course, don't give a damn?"
"Of course," he said, smirking.
"I tried that once, talking to a stranger. And the person I told is now my best friend." She smiled at the thought of Elsa.
"So, it worked once. Want to try again? I promise I'll go back to just being that bloke in the coffee house again afterwards, if you want me to do."
"I suppose it couldn't hurt." They smiled at each other and Ginny took a deep breath and began.
"Well, it started many years ago, when I was still in school. I got married very young, and my husband died somewhat tragically. He was only 18 years old at the time. I was distraught and everything reminded me of him. And I was pregnant and didn't want to raise my child in that situation. So I left, more or less without a trace. A friend helped me go and kept my location and my pregnancy secret from my family. But I recently realized, with much prodding from my friend, that my son deserves to know his family. My husband never really knew his, and it was one of the things he most regretted, and I realized that I was forcing the same thing on Evan. And he wants so much to know his family and find out about his father. So I decided to come back, and here I am, though Evan is still in Chicago. Things are going well for the most part. I have a flat and a job lined up. But a couple of days ago I had a bit of a shock that brought back all of my memories about my husband. I had thought I had gotten to the point where thoughts of him hurt less, but now I'm not so sure. And today I have to start facing my family. I'm sure they're going to be angry because I left and stayed away for so long. I suppose I deserve it, but I am dreading it as well."
"Why should they be angry? They'll probably be happy to see you."
"Well, the two I am seeing today may be. They were always my favorite brothers. I have a big family and had a tendency to get lost in it. But they always understood me. When I grew up, they treated me accordingly. Everyone else seemed to think I was still the baby. So they might have accepted my decision. But I have been out of communication for ages, and I have hidden Evan from them. Everyone in my family has a huge temper, probably because of the red hair. I guess I'm afraid of what might happen."
"If these brothers saw you as you really were, and usually understood you, maybe they understood why you left. And if you were completely out of communication, they should have no reason to think you would have told them about your son. You did what you needed to do. There is nothing wrong with that, and if they love you, they'll see it that way."
"Gee, you have all the answers, don't you?" she asked sarcastically.
"No," he said, grinning. "I'm just playing Devil's Advocate. It's my specialty!"
"Ah, so the truth comes out!" she answered, laughing a bit.
"Plus, there's no use worrying about it."
"You're probably right. And it's my mum I am really concerned about."
"Probably? There's no probably about it. I am right."
"You sure aren't lacking in self-confidence, are you?"
"No. What would be the point? Anyway, good luck with your brothers," he said as he stood to leave.
"Thank you. Talking to you did help."
"You're welcome. And if you want to tell me about what happens with your brothers, I'd be happy to hear..."
"Or you could just go back to being the bloke in the coffeehouse, right?" she asked, smiling a bit.
"Right," he said, then added with a smirk, "But I'll still know how it went. It will be written all over your face." And then he was gone, but she heard him laughing as he went.
"Git," she mumbled fondly, and grinned all the way back to her flat.
***
Ginny's stomach was in knots as she mounted the stairs to Remus's flat. Despite the assurances of the man in the coffee house, she was still nervous. What if they hated her?
When Remus opened the door, he asked her to stay outside for a moment. He went back in and said, "Fred and George, I asked you here today because there is someone I want you to meet." He gestured for Ginny to enter and she stepped just inside the door, apprehension clear on her face. The two identical red heads looked at her blankly for a moment, then their jaws dropped open simultaneously.
One of them managed to whisper, "Ginny?" She nodded shyly.
And then she was engulfed in their arms and could barely breathe. Remus eventually pried the twins off Ginny and they beamed at her.
"It's so good to see you!" said the one she thought was Fred. It had been so long, she wasn't sure she could tell them apart anymore.
"You have no idea! We missed you!" added probably-George.
"I missed you too," she said quietly.
"Well, of course you did!"
"Who wouldn't miss us?"
"We are..."
"...of course..."
"...the best brothers..."
"...on the planet!"
Ginny found herself laughing harder than she had in a long time. They twins were still very much their old selves. And they seemed genuinely happy that she was back. Over lunch, she told them all about her life in Chicago, with one notable exception.
Fred and George filled her in on the Weasleys. Remus had told her a lot of the news over the years, but the twins told it all in such a way that she laughed the whole way through.
Bill was still working for Gringotts, but was based in London. He still had long hair and an earring, which his mother was still complaining about. She never realized that it was futile, as Bill's wife very much approved. He had married Fleur Delacour before Ginny had left, and Ginny had known about her pregnancy. Their first son was a few months older than Evan. They then had had two more in quick succession, at which point Fleur decided that enough was enough. She had had her tubes tied magically, much to Molly's chagrin, as she hoped for lots more grandbabies.
Charlie was still working with dragons in Romania. Fred and George speculated wildly about why he had never given in to his mother's demands that he find a nice girl and settle down, or at least bring a girlfriend home. They theorized that there was a girl, but he was ashamed of her because she was from too good a family. Or that the girlfriend couldn't come home with him as she was, in fact, a dragon. Though they confided in Ginny that they really suspected that Charlie was gay.
Percy was still a prat. He had made amends with the family after the war, but the twins still didn't trust him entirely. He was now head of the Pest Advisory Bureau at the Ministry of Magic, and would bore you on the dangers of bundimuns if he got the chance. Somehow, he had managed to reproduce. Fred and George still wondered about Penelope's sanity occasionally, but their attempt to have her involuntarily admitted to St. Mungo's for observation was thwarted by the fact that she was a healer there and her colleagues found her to be quite sane, thank you very much. Percy's son Pembroke was a perfect replica of himself, down to the horn-rimmed glasses and stiff gait, but his daughter Priscilla was a true hellion. Fred and George were quite proud of her, and kept her supplied with all of their latest gags so she could make her father's life hell.
Ron and Hermione had married soon after Harry's death. Ron now worked as an Auror, and had been trained by Mad-Eye Moody himself. Hermione did research on who-knows-what in the Department of Mysteries. They lived quietly, and tried, usually unsuccessfully, to avoid the press, who were still obsessed with them even now. They had one child, a six-year-old son they had (of course) named Harry. His passions were books and Quidditch, and the whole family doted on him.
And Fred and George themselves were pretty much the same as they ever had been. Their shop in Diagon Alley was flourishing.
"Well, we do have several of the best and brightest Hogwarts students on our payroll," George explained.
"Oh, yes. They are invaluable for helping us meet the needs of the current batch of students," Fred said with false solemnity.
"And we convinced some idiot to invest in the business!"
"Prat's going to help us open a shop in Hogsmeade!"
"We managed to convince him that we could ‘better serve the Hogwarts community' there."
"And he believed it! The Galleons just keep rolling in!"
"Other than that, not much has changed for us."
"Except that George has a girlfriend!" Fred taunted. George blushed and explained that he was seeing Natalie McDonald, who had been a Gryffindor two years behind Ginny. She smiled. A girlfriend would be good for George. Fred, too, for that matter. She would have to work on that.
Silence fell over the group for a few minutes, and Ginny realized that she didn't have all of the news after all.
"How are Mum and Dad?" she asked.
Fred and George looked at each other, then back at Ginny. "Well," George said rather carefully, "Dad is about the same as ever. Still puttering around with all of the Muggle stuff."
"And Mum?" Ginny asked.
"You have to understand, Ginny," Fred began. "George and I saw how you reacted to Harry's death and..."
"And it wasn't too big a surprise for us when you left."
"But to Mum... It was like losing another child."
"She didn't understand how you could go like you did. Still doesn't really."
"She doesn't talk about you anymore."
"We think she gave up on you ever coming back."
"After all, it has been ten years."
"Ginny, why did you wait so long?" George asked.
Ginny looked at Remus, who smiled reassuringly. She sighed, took a deep breath, and said, "Fred, George, there is one thing I haven't told you about my life."
"What is it, Gin?" asked George. (She had figured out which twin was which by this point.)
"Come on, spill! It can't be that bad, can it?" This was from Fred.
"Well, we'll see what you think when I tell you." She braced herself and continued, "When I left, I was pregnant. I didn't tell anyone but Harry. I have a nine year old son."
"You're a mum?"
"Harry has a son?"
"What's his name?"
"Do you have a picture?"
All of this came out very quickly as they moved in to hug her again. Once she caught her breath, she answered "His name is Evan James Potter, after Harry's parents. And what kind of mother would I be if I didn't have a picture?"
Fred and George looked at the proffered photograph solemnly.
"Oh the poor kid!" Fred exclaimed.
"Yeah," said George sadly. "He looks just like Harry!"
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