jharad17 - Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

Maybe he had it all wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.

Regardless, they were all up on brooms a few minutes after that, with no one being a Bludger, not even Ginny. The pitch was no more than a field with a goal post at either end, but Harry found it strangely beautiful despite the lack of precision and straight rows of flowers. Or maybe because of that lack.

"It's all hid from the Muggles," Fred said, as if that made sense to Harry.

"Dad's real careful about that," added George, kicking off into the air again.

"They live over there, Muggles do," Fred told him, pointing off in the distance where Harry could just see the tip of a church spire.

"And they don't even know we're here!"

They played for a good long time, everyone alternately playing Chaser or Beater, and only when they were all sweaty and the score was around a million points for each team -- as neither had a Keeper or Seeker -- did they end the game.

"Mum said to show Harry the pumpkins," said Ron as they put up the brooms. The twins suddenly remembered they had somewhere else to be, but when they tried to escape the yard, a call from their mother brought them back to Ron, Ginny, and Harry, and a reluctant trip to the pumpkin patch.

The garden was smaller by far than Hagrid's, but the pumpkins were large and very round, and were just turning orange. Ron walked through the rows, pointing out the ones he had planted himself, as Ginny did the same. Harry said they looked good.

"You ever planted anything?" Ron asked him.

He nodded. Every spring. Aunt Petunia liked annuals as well as perennials, and so every spring and summer, he was on his knees in the dirt, mulching, hoeing, weeding, watering, and all the rest. He knew how to plant things, and how to make sure they were properly taken care of after that. Many of his early beatings were earned while learning this skill.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Daffodils," Harry replied. "Roses, delphiniums, peonies, daisies, nemesia, geraniums, snapdragons--"

"Whoa there, boy-o," said Fred, leaning over the little fence meant to keep rabbits and deer and such out; Harry thought it was too short for the latter, and the spacing too wide for the former. But maybe there was something different about growing things way out here in the country, that people in Little Whinging knew nothing about. Something magic .

Harry stopped his recitation, having not gotten half way through yet, and said, "Sorry, Fred."

"'S'okay. Did you really plant all that stuff?"

"Yes."

"How come?" asked Ron. "Did your Dad make you?"

Harry shook his head. "No. The Dursleys."

The other children exchanged a silent look, and Harry wondered why.

"How come?" Ron asked, and then one of the twins shoved him, hard enough so he fell in the dirt. "Ow! Geroff!"

"You're not s'posed to--"

"--Ask him about that lot, Ronniekins. When'll you--"

"--Learn to keep your gob shut?"

"Shut up! I didn't mean it!" Ron yelled, and looked like he might cry.

Harry didn't understand why, since the push had not been that hard, and Ron wasn't bleeding or anything. But he did understand big kids pushing little kids around, and he moved suddenly, swiftly, to place himself in between Ron and his brothers. Just because no one had ever stuck up for him against Dudley, didn't mean he couldn't stick up for others. "Leave him alone," he said in a low, quiet voice. His hands were curled into fists at his sides.

"Looka the fierce, little fighter," said Fred. His red eyebrows were hidden under his fringe they had climbed so high. He didn't look angry, but surprised.

"Sticking up for ickle Ronnikins," added George, who also appeared startled, but with a tiny, almost approving, smile.

"Who woulda thought?"

Harry didn't say anything, just lifted his chin a fraction higher. He couldn't help but swallow hard, though. Both of them were far bigger than him, and outnumbered him besides.

Fred gave a laugh. "Merlin, Harry, don't worry on 'bout it."

"We wouldn't ever really hurt him," George said.

"He's our brother, for Merlin's sake."

Harry nodded, but not like it meant anything. Brothers, he figured, could turn on you as quick as cousins.

George shook his head with a sigh. "Oh, c'mon, Ronnie. Stop your whinging."

"We're sorry, all right? Quit it or--"

"Mum'll hear and call us all in."

Ron had already climbed to his feet and now pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes for a second, to wipe away the tears which had barely had time to collect, never mind fall. "S'all right," he said as he turned to Harry and grinned a sudden gap-toothed grin. "I'm all right. You really stood up to 'em for me. Ta, Harry."

With another nod, Harry smiled back a bit, but gave the twins a wary look over Ron's shoulder. He didn't know why Fred had knocked Ron down, but he would keep an eye on them from now on.

"Boys!" a call came from the front of the house. "Ginny! Come here, please!"

"What d'you figure she wants now?" George grumbled.

Fred kicked a stone with a scuffed trainer. "Probably wants to know why were not done thinning the pumpkin patch yet."

George gave his twin a sly smile. "Maybe we can--"

Fred nodded as he continued their thought, "--Make out for the orchard--"

"--Before she gets wise to us?"

"Race ya!" they called to each simultaneously. Ron, Ginny and Harry watched them dart to the other side of the house and away towards the nearby orchard.

"C'mon," Ron said as he glared after them. " They might get away with ducking out, but we won't." He trudged around to where their mother had been calling.

"Boys!" she was yelling again, just as they rounded the corner. "Gin-- Oh! There you are. Come here, Harry dear. Your father is Flooing back to Hogwarts for the afternoon and would like to say goodbye."

Harry froze in his tracks. He'd forgotten. Father had told him that he would be here for the afternoon without Father, and he had forgotten. He didn't want to say goodbye. Maybe, if he didn't say goodbye, Father wouldn't leave. . . .

But he had been given a direct order, so he moved closer to the door, where Mrs. Weasley was standing.

"That's a dear," Mrs. Weasley cooed, smiling down at him. Then she cocked her head slightly and peered at Ron. "Where have your brothers gone, Ronnie?"

Ron tried a shrug and a look down at his trainers in silence, but Mrs. Weasley wasn't buying it. "It's hardly your fault they're made themselves scarce, Ronnie; just tell me where they went off to."

"The orchard," Ginny piped up, and Harry gaped at her. He could not abide tattlers. Dudley was the worst he'd ever met, of course, but tattlers of any stripe were horrifying to him.

"Thank you, Ginny sweetie. Come on in, all of you. I have lunch ready. Harry, your father is in the sitting room."

Sidestepping Ginny-the-Tattler, even as Ron stuck his tongue out at her, and she reciprocated, Harry mumbled a, "Thank you, ma'am," to Mrs. Weasley and darted into the house. He found the sitting room again, no problem, and his father, too.

Father!" he cried, and ran at him, launching himself into his father's arms as soon as he was close enough to do so. Father, fortunately, caught him and held him close. Holding Harry against his chest, with one hand behind Harry's head, he sat down in a soft, patterned chair to the side of the fireplace, with Harry straddling his knees.

"What's wrong, Harry? Did something happen? Are you hurt?"

Harry shook his head and pressed his face into the crook of his father's shoulder, where it met his neck. "No, Father," he said in a low voice. "Please, don't go."

Father made a soft sighing sound. "I must," he said. "I have work to do for my classes, and you need to get used to being here without me."