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Though she said not a word, Mrs. Weasley's disdainful glance at the children as she left the room spoke volumes. Harry almost sighed—she clung to her beliefs tenaciously, and there was precious little he could do to change them. He decided not to be concerned, however; he was certain she would eventually come around. At the very least, he did not live at Grimmauld any longer, so he would be able to avoid her if she was unpleasant.
The best part of the night, in Harry's opinion, was the discussion between the headmaster and Jean-Sebastian before they returned to the Ambassador's Mansion. One of his greatest fears had been that his guardian would not agree with the Order's goals and would strike out on his own, putting Harry in a difficult position. Their conversation ended any chance of that happening.
"Well, Jean-Sebastian, I hope that this meeting calmed your fears and that you will continue to work with us."
Jean-Sebastian smiled at Dumbledore and indicated his acquiescence with a slight bow. "It has. Anything you need from me will be provided."
"Very well, then."
Dumbledore excused himself to go, leaving the rest of the occupants of the room to mill about and speak to one another about the meeting they had just left. Harry particularly enjoyed speaking a few moments with his friends. Things were looking up for him, and he was looking forward to continuing to get to know his new family better.
In another part of the old house, Molly Weasley fumed about the situation and the loss of all her plans. This latest straw—having that awful Mr. Delacour set her down in front of the children—was just another reason for her to dislike him. The children were too young—they needed to step back and allow the adults to take care of them, as was their right and duty.
What Molly did not acknowledge, even to herself, was her fear. She had not escaped the first war unscathed—few had—and though she would largely not acknowledge it even to herself, she was afraid of once again going through the heartbreak of losing another loved one to that damned dark lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been directly responsible for the deaths of her twin brothers, and the ache she felt at their loss, though dulled with time, was still keenly felt. She wanted to keep the children safe at all costs, and it was very difficult to admit that they were growing up and could take care of themselves.
That Harry, a young man of whom she was genuinely fond, was now in a better home situation was something to be glad about, as personally distasteful as she found the Delacours. He was closemouthed about his experiences during his childhood, but she suspected that the Muggles he had lived with were, at the very least, apathetic toward him, not caring for him in the manner that they should have.
It still rankled, however, that if he should leave their care, then he would not be put in hers. She was far better known to the boy than the Delacours and was able to provide a far healthier environment for his upbringing than they could, she was certain. And that betrothal…
The mere thought of the fact that Harry was betrothed filled Molly with indignation, especially since it was to that hussy! Harry was perfect for Ginny! He had saved her in the chamber, for Merlin's sake—it bespoke to his noble and self-sacrificing nature, which was all Molly wanted for her only daughter, and in her mind, it tied them together with an unbreakable bond. Of course, it would not hurt that the boy's social and financial situation could only bolster that of the Weasleys'—Harry truly did not completely understand the stature he could command in their world, not only due to his status as the Boy-Who-Lived, but also because of the fact that the Potters had a very old name and had always been influential. Their substantial wealth did not hurt matters either.
But Harry's stature and birthright were secondary to all other concerns. Ginny was her baby, and since Ginny had been a little girl, she had idolized the Boy-Who-Lived and fantasized about marrying him. And since that was what Ginny wanted, Molly had been determined that she would help her only daughter to achieve that goal, whatever it took. This contract with the French witch all but put that notion to rest, unless Ginny were to consider a multiple marriage with the young man.
She continued to chew upon the issue, worrying at it from every side she could think of, but nothing presented itself. No matter how she approached the situation in her mind, there was nothing she could do. Harry Potter was, for all intents and purposes, engaged to Fleur Delacour, and there was nothing to be done about it.
"Come to bed, Molly," the voice of her husband startled her from her thoughts. She glanced around, and noting the time on the clock, she wondered at how long she had stewed, thinking about her daughter and the boy whom she considered as good as a son.
She swiftly prepared herself for sleep and joined her husband in their bed, lifting the blankets to her chin while letting out a long sigh of frustration. Arthur, who knew her better than anyone else, regarded her in silence before breaking it with a gentle remonstrance.
"Molly, I understand you are not happy about this betrothal business, but I believe it is truly in Harry's best interests at this point."
"How can you say that?" Molly demanded. "How can that… that… girl be good for Harry, who is the gentlest, nicest boy I have ever met? We know nothing about her, Arthur, and being a Veela, she is almost certainly a scarlet woman!"
"You know no such thing," Arthur reprimanded. "Everything I've seen of her suggests that she is quiet and pleasant. There is no reason to vilify her."
Arthur regarded her for a moment, his eyes intent, and Molly was reminded of the fact that though her husband often appeared to be oblivious and intent upon his eccentric interests, he was an intelligent man, and not entirely blind to what was occurring around him.
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