Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

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.'

Harry shook his head again, silently.

'Yes, Harry. I have to go now.'

Harry held him just a bit tighter.