The Tenth Weasley - CH - 47

Ever since the revelation of Harry’s Parseltongue ability, the atmosphere in the Weasley household had shifted in a way that made Harry feel suffocated. It wasn’t the outright accusations or harsh words—no, the Weasleys weren’t like that—but it was the subtle changes, the worried glances, the hushed whispers when they thought he wasn’t listening. The way his parents looked at him with a strange mix of concern and apprehension, as if they were seeing him in a new, unfamiliar light.

Even Arthur, who always had a calm and understanding demeanor, seemed to hesitate before speaking to Harry now, choosing his words carefully. Molly, usually a fountain of warmth and affection, had taken to hovering around him more than usual, often bringing him extra servings of food or running her fingers through his hair like she was trying to reassure herself that he was still her Harry.

The Potters, on the other hand, were worse. James and Lily had taken to visiting more frequently, under the guise of wanting to "get to know their son better," but Harry could see right through it. They were trying to smother him with affection, asking questions they never asked before, watching him like they were expecting him to... what? Hiss in his sleep? Summon a snake for dinner?

It was unbearable.

Charlie was the only Potter who seemed to treat Harry the same, but even he was more careful with his words, watching Harry like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. Rose, meanwhile, was acting like nothing had changed, trying to chat with him as if they were the closest of siblings—which they weren't, and Harry couldn't shake the awkwardness that came with it.

But in the midst of it all, Fred and George remained his lifeline. They were the only ones who hadn’t changed in the slightest.

“Oi, Dark Lord Weasley, are you planning to command a snake army against Mum?” Fred quipped one morning over breakfast, grinning as he leaned over the table.

George chimed in with a wicked grin. “Or maybe go to the Slytherin common room and declare yourself their king?”

Harry couldn’t help but snort into his pumpkin juice. “Sure, I’ll start by ordering you two to stop stealing my socks.”

Their antics never failed to pull Harry out of his brooding thoughts, and though Molly often shot them disapproving glares when they called him "Dark Lord Weasley," Harry found their lighthearted teasing a relief from the heavy, suffocating expectations pressing down on him from all sides.

One afternoon, after yet another tense conversation with his parents, Harry retreated to the only place where he could breathe freely—the Weasley Cave System.

Descending the familiar tunnels that he and his brothers had spent years digging and enchanting, Harry let out a sigh of relief as he reached his personal chamber deep within the caverns. Here, surrounded by books, runes, and carefully placed wards, he could truly be himself without judgment. The room had become his escape, a sanctuary where he could study without prying eyes or nervous glances.

As he sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through an old book on warding techniques, he thought about how things had changed.

“I didn’t ask to be a Parselmouth,” he muttered to himself, tracing the runes on the page absentmindedly. “And it’s not like I asked Quirrell to teach me either.” He clenched his jaw, feeling the frustration simmer beneath the surface. “I just wanted to be good at magic.”

He knew the dark magic he had learned under Quirrell’s tutelage was dangerous, but at the time, it had been empowering. Now, it felt like a weight hanging over him, dragging him down with every passing day.

A soft tapping echoed through the tunnels, and Harry quickly cast a silent detection charm. Seeing the familiar magical signature, he sighed. “Come in, Fred, George. No need to sneak around.”

The twins appeared a moment later, grinning as they entered. “Sneaking? Us?” George feigned innocence, flopping onto one of the chairs.

Fred sat beside him, eyeing Harry carefully. “You alright, Dark Lord Weasley?”

Harry smirked. “Cut it out, will you? Mum’s already having heart palpitations.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you can’t blame them for being a little freaked out. You have to admit, mate, speaking to a three-headed snake does sound a bit... ominous.”

Harry sighed. “I didn’t know I could do it until I did. It’s not like I went looking for it.”

George leaned forward. “And that’s what they don’t get, Harry. Parseltongue or not, you’re still you. You’re not Voldemort reincarnated or whatever nonsense they’re thinking.”

Harry glanced down at his book, his voice quiet. “Doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

Fred clapped him on the shoulder. “Listen, Hogwarts will start soon. And you’ll be too busy hexing Malfoy and impressing Granger to worry about any of this rubbish.”

Harry chuckled, grateful for their support. “Yeah. I guess.”

The twins shared a knowing look. “And if anyone gives you trouble,” George added with a wink, “just hiss at them a little. That’ll shut them up.”

Harry laughed, feeling lighter for the first time in weeks. “You two are impossible.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Fred grinned. “Now come on, Mum’s probably about to send an owl battalion after you.”

As they left the cave together, Harry felt a little more at ease. No matter how much things changed, some things—like his bond with the Weasleys—would always stay the same. And right now, that was enough.

After what felt like an eternity spent cooped up inside the Weasley Manor following the circus incident, Harry was more than eager to step outside. Ever since the Parseltongue revelation, his parents had been extra cautious, choosing to keep the family activities confined within the manor's extensive grounds. It had been suffocating, and Harry was itching to breathe in the bustling air of Diagon Alley once again.

The arrival of his Hogwarts letter provided the perfect opportunity to break free, and this time, Harry was adamant. “We’re all going together,” he told Arthur and Molly at breakfast. “It’s Ginny’s first year, after all. She should get the full experience.”

Molly pursed her lips, stirring her tea with a thoughtful expression. “But, dear, it’s easier if your father and I just go and get everything—”

“No, Mum,” Harry cut in, giving her his best pleading look. “We always go together, remember? And besides, it’s Ginny’s first time. She deserves to experience it properly, just like we all did.”

Ginny, who had been quietly sipping her juice, brightened up immediately. “Yeah, Mum! I want to see everything myself. I’m not a baby anymore!”

Arthur chuckled, patting her head. “Of course you’re not, pumpkin. I think it’s a splendid idea. We’ll make a day of it.”

Harry relaxed, relieved that at least his father saw reason. But then Molly brought up the dreaded topic. “But what about the Potters? They might want to come along and—”

“No,” Harry said firmly, his grip tightening around his goblet. “They’re not coming. This is our trip, Mum. They’ve been around too much lately, and I just... I just want one day without them hovering.” He felt a small pang of guilt at his tone, but he couldn't help it. He had spent the entire summer being smothered by their constant presence, and he needed space.

Molly looked torn but finally nodded. “Alright, Harry. Just us, then.”

With that settled, the Weasleys prepared for their trip, gathering their coin purses and making a list of school supplies needed for each child. As they stepped into the Floo Network one by one, Harry felt excitement bubble within him. Finally, a sense of normalcy.

Diagon Alley was alive with its usual hustle and bustle.

Witches and wizards in colorful robes hurried about, owls hooted from their cages in Eeylops Owl Emporium, and the mouth-watering scent of freshly baked cauldron cakes wafted through the air.

Ginny was practically bouncing with excitement as they made their way through the crowded street. “Where are we going first?” she asked eagerly, her eyes darting to the various shop windows filled with fascinating magical goods.

“Flourish and Blotts,” Percy answered primly, adjusting his glasses. “We need our textbooks, after all.”

“Boring,” Fred groaned, nudging George. “I say we hit Quality Quidditch Supplies first. I hear they’ve got the new Nimbus model on display.”

Molly shot them a stern look. “Books first, boys. You can ogle brooms later.”

Harry smiled at the familiar banter but felt an odd tension in the air. Whether it was just him being overly cautious or something else, he couldn’t tell. He glanced around carefully, scanning the crowd, half-expecting to see James or Lily Potter lurking nearby, but thankfully, they were nowhere in sight.

Inside Flourish and Blotts, the chaos was immediate.

Stacks upon stacks of books towered precariously, and the place was packed with students and parents, all jostling to get their hands on the required reading for the year. Ginny tugged at Harry’s sleeve, looking overwhelmed. “Where do I even start?”

Harry grinned. “Stick with me. I’ve done this before.”

They found their books without too much trouble, and while Harry browsed through the shelves, he spotted Hermione Granger in a corner with her nose deep in Intermediate Transfiguration. She looked up, spotted him, and waved. “Harry! How was your summer?”

Harry walked over, grinning. “Complicated. Yours?”

“Busy, as always,” she said, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I read about Parseltongue, you know. It’s not inherently dark, you shouldn’t listen to what people say.”

Harry gave a small smile, grateful for her words. “Thanks, Hermione. You’re one of the few who thinks that way.”

After purchasing Ginny's books from Flourish and Blotts, the Weasley family made their way to the Apothecary to gather her potion ingredients. The shop was filled with the familiar pungent aroma of dried herbs, crushed roots, and bubbling concoctions. Ginny looked around in fascination while Molly handed over the list to the shopkeeper.

"Let's see here," the shopkeeper mumbled, scanning the list. "A standard first-year kit, of course—dried nettles, snake fangs, horned slugs… You'll also be needing a fresh supply of bezoars. Ah, and unicorn hair, very useful."

While Molly and Arthur handled Ginny’s purchases, Harry and the other Weasley children roamed through the shop. Ron wrinkled his nose as he examined a jar of slimy green substances. "Ugh, do we really have to use this stuff?"

"You'll get used to it," Percy said in his usual prim tone. "It's essential for learning proper potion-making."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head at Ron’s disgust. He had spent enough time at the apothecary during previous trips to know which ingredients to avoid getting too close to. “At least you don’t have to prepare the dragon liver,” Harry said, pointing to the large, slimy pieces displayed at the counter.

Once Ginny’s ingredients were packed into small labeled bags, the family moved on to the next stop—Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. Ginny looked excited as she stepped onto the fitting stool, arms stretched wide, as the measuring tape flew around her under Madam Malkin’s watchful eye.

“You’ll look lovely in Hogwarts robes, dear,” Molly cooed, smiling proudly at her daughter.

Fred and George, who were standing nearby getting their robes adjusted, whispered loudly, "Hope they fit, Ginny. Wouldn't want you tripping in front of Charlie Potter!"

Ginny turned crimson and shot them a glare. "Shut up, you two!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh, feeling relieved at the normalcy of their teasing.

Soon, with robes purchased and tucked away in their bags, it was time for the most anticipated stop—Ollivanders, to get Ginny's very first wand. The shop was dimly lit, lined floor-to-ceiling with narrow boxes, and Mr. Ollivander himself emerged from the shadows, his pale eyes scanning the family with interest.

"Ah, another Weasley," he murmured, his voice soft yet compelling. "I remember each and every one of your brothers. Let’s see what we have for you, Miss Weasley."

Ginny fidgeted with excitement as Ollivander pulled down several wands for her to try. The first one, made of oak and unicorn hair, sparked wildly in her hands, nearly knocking over a shelf. The second, a willow wand with dragon heartstring, did nothing but let out a faint puff of smoke.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ollivander handed her a slim wand of yew with a phoenix feather core. The moment Ginny held it, a soft golden light filled the room, and a warm breeze swirled around her.

“Ah, excellent choice,” Ollivander whispered. “Yew, eleven inches, and with a powerful core... A wand for great things.”

Ginny beamed, holding the wand as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

After leaving Ollivander’s, Molly handed out small bags of money to each of the children. “Alright, dears,” she said, clapping her hands. “Your father and I will stay with Ginny and finish up the last few things. The rest of you, go on and finish your shopping. And no mischief, you lot!" she added, eyeing Fred and George pointedly.

With that, the group split up. Percy, holding his list carefully, strode towards the stationary shop to buy fresh quills and parchment. Fred and George whispered about a quick stop at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, their eyes glinting mischievously. Ron and Harry decided to head to Quality Quidditch Supplies to see if there were any new broom models on display.

As they walked off, Ron nudged Harry. "Fancy seeing if they've got any new Chudley Cannons posters?"

Harry grinned. "Sure, let's go. And maybe we can grab a snack from the Leaky Cauldron after."

As they wandered through the lively street, Harry couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. He glanced over his shoulder but saw nothing unusual. Just the usual bustling crowd, excited first-years, and merchants hawking their magical wares.

"Something wrong?" Ron asked, noticing Harry’s distracted expression.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, just my imagination, I guess."

Even so, a nagging feeling of unease lingered as they continued their shopping.