(Untitled)

[vedovo]

Who: Arthur Weasley, Percy Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom
Where: A small pub in Dover.
When: 14th October 2001
Status: Complete

Comments

[scarlet_lioness]

Ginny nodded, her expression resolute.

She didn't look at the others for fear her resolve would crack, and if this was a trap, which her brain and Moody's voice in her head still told her it could be, she couldn't afford that.

She'd replaced most of her glamour, because despite all the protections Percy assured them were in place, she couldn't--they couldn't take that chance. Still, she'd left one part of appearance as something her father, if he really was her father would recognize: her eyes. She had her mother's brown eyes, and that would be obvious even with the dark hair, lack of freckles and height difference.

Ginny followed after Percy, taking comfort in the fact that Neville and Ron and Hermione were right behind her, even if she couldn't bring herself to look at them.

She'd meant what she'd told Neville. She couldn't do this alone. And she'd said that before she even knew she'd be coming face to face with her father after three years of thinking him dead, when she'd thought she was just going to say goodbye.

They always said goodbyes were the worst, but sometimes saying hello was even harder. And this was definitely one of those times.

It was only through sheer force of will (and a certain degree of shock) that she managed to keep her face relatively impassive as she examined the man who certainly looked like her father. Only older. Greyer. Thinner. More worn. More nervous than she'd ever seen him, if it really was him.

And it was only Moody's paranoid teachings that kept her from hugging him immediately, like her heart told her to.

Her heart said this is Dad and her brain said prove it and she felt at war with herself, worse than she'd been when she'd been torn between hugging Percy and hitting him just... had it only been under an hour since she'd watched Percy walk through the door of the VIP room?

It felt like... it felt like a second and a lifetime and she had to say something, she couldn't just stare.

"If you really are Arthur Weasley," she began, feeling inordinately proud of herself for the way her voice didn't shake, even as her insides threatened to, "if you really are my father, then tell me..."

Tell me why you left. Tell me why you weren't here for me, for us, when when I, when we, needed you.

"What did I once say was my favourite thing about being the only girl growing up, and then feel guilty for?"