Harry Potter looked like he had just been given the Dementor’s Kiss. His face was deathly white, his eyes were blank and unfocused, and his jaw was hanging slackly open. In fact Harry hadn’t been Kissed, although he was dimly aware of a thought, deep in the recesses of his mind that perhaps that wasn’t a bad option under the circumstances. Finally however his brain jammed itself back into gear, and he managed to focus on Mr Weasley, who was still sitting calmly across the table.
“Pregnant,” Harry said, his voice hollow. “You mean she’s going to have a baby?”
Looking at the shocked young man facing him across the table, Mr Weasley tried to lighten the tone a bit.
“Well, Molly’s always been a bit vague about this sort of thing,” he replied. “But I believe that’s the usual outcome.”
Several emotions appeared to be fighting for possession of Harry’s face. As well as shock, Mr Weasley thought he could also identify anger, anxiety, and, just for a brief moment, joy. Finally though Harry seemed to settle on a deadpan expression, and his next outburst caught Mr Weasley out totally.
“I’ve let you down, haven’t I?” Harry blurted out, “After all you’ve done for me.” He buried his head in his hands. “Mr Weasley, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry. I—”
“Harry,” Mr Weasley tried to interrupt but Harry carried on, oblivious.
“We just didn’t think. Oh God, what must Molly think of me? I—”
“HARRY!” bellowed Mr Weasley, cutting Harry off in mid-sentence. In the silence that followed Mr Weasley scrutinised Harry carefully, trying to put himself the younger man’s shoes. He had never heard Harry call his wife by her first name before, and that in itself was probably a good indication of just how shocked he currently was. Arthur could still remember how terrified he had been when Molly had first told him he was going to be a dad, but he at least had had parents and siblings to turn to for support and advice. Harry had none of that, and for the first time Mr Weasley thought he could truly appreciate the predicament that Harry was in. By all accounts his aunt and uncle had robbed him of a proper childhood, and now he had to face an adult’s problems with no preparation. Mr Weasley mentally squared his shoulders. He knew that Molly had always prided herself on being the mum Harry had never had; perhaps it was time for him to take the opposite role. He moved round the table to sit next to Harry, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Harry,” he started again. “I want you to understand one thing: Molly and I are not angry with you.” Harry snorted in disbelief. “I mean it,” Mr Weasley insisted, “You forget that we were young ourselves when You-Know-Who was at the height of his power the first time around. We were half expecting that something like this might happen. We hadn’t expected it to be Ginny, but….” He faltered for a moment. “Anyway we’re not angry,” he reiterated. “A bit upset, yes, disappointed certainly, but not angry.”
“I appreciate that, Mr Weasley, I really do,” Harry said slowly, some colour starting to return to his face. “But… this isn’t something I ever expected to happen. What am I going to do?
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Harry,” Mr Weasley replied heavily. “You’re of age now, and although Ginny isn’t, under both Muggle and wizarding law she is over the age of consent, and considered old enough to be able to deal with this situation. So I’m not going to tell either of you what to do; all I can do is offer you advice. And my first bit of advice is that you should go down the hall to the living room, and talk to Ginny.”
“Ginny’s here?” Harry was already half way out of his chair when Mr Weasley grabbed his arm, stopping him is his tracks.
“Harry,” Mr Weasley said hesitantly. Harry turned back to look at him and noticed that for the first time since they had entered the house, Mr Weasley was looking unsure of himself. “Molly would kill me if she knew I was telling you this, but given the circumstances I think you two of you have the right to know. Muggles have a medical procedure for…well, I believe the term is ‘terminating’ pregnancies.”
Harry nodded, realising what Mr Weasley was suggesting.
“There is a magical equivalent. I know a Healer who is licensed to perform it. It’s not something we would like to see happen, but…”
Seemingly unable to find the words he wanted, Mr Weasley shrugged helplessly. The two men sat their for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts, before Harry stood up and slowly made his way up the hall way.
_______________
It was almost three hours before Harry appeared again. Mr Weasley had replaced the Firewhisky with a large pot of coffee, and after offering a cup to Harry he surreptitiously observed him as they both sipped the steaming brew. There was no sign of the shocked young teenager of a few hours previous. Although he was still a touch pale, Harry’s face now bore a grim, determined expression.
“We’re going to keep the baby,” Harry said finally, breaking the silence between them. Sensing there was more to come, Mr Weasley merely nodded. “I thought I might ask Dobby to help look after her,” Harry continued, “I remember Hermione saying something about house-elves being allowed to use powerful magic if they’re protecting children, or a pregnant witch.”
“She’s right, of course,” Mr Weasley replied. “It’s one of the few circumstances in which they are allowed to physically harm someone.”
Harry took a deep breath. “I also think you should perform a Memory Charm on me.”
Mr Weasley dropped his coffee.
“Sorry, Harry,” he replied slowly, Vanishing the broken cup with a quick wave of his wand, “You want me to put a Memory Charm on you?” Harry nodded. “Why?”
“I’m no good at Occlumency,” Harry replied. “Snape knows that; I have to assume that the other Death Eaters do as well. And then there’s this.” He tapped his scar meaningfully. “I can’t and won’t risk Voldemort finding out about this.”
“Harry, let’s just think about this for a moment,” Mr Weasley said. “The handful of people who do know about this have all made Unbreakable Vows. And even if You-Know-Who does somehow find out, he still has to find us.”
“He found my parents,” Harry responded, “and they were supposedly protected by one of the most powerful Charms available.”
“That was different, Harry.” Mr Weasley replied defensively. “Your parents were betrayed by the one person who knew where they could be found.”
“And how many people know where you are right now?” Harry challenged. “How much time would you have to escape if Voldemort suddenly arrived on the doorstep?”
“How could wiping your memory prevent that from happening?” Mr Weasley shot back. “Look, Harry,” he tried again, “I don’t want to get into a shouting match here, I’m just trying to understand your reasoning.”
Harry was silent for a long moment as he marshalled his thoughts.
“Ever since Sirius died,” he said slowly, “I’ve thought about what I would do if any of you were captured by Voldemort. If it was a choice between fighting him and saving you, or, or Kingsley, or Tonks, or even Ron or Hermione, I think I could make the right decision. I’d hate myself for it, but we’ve all been in this long enough to know what we’re up against. But even if this hadn’t happened, if it was Ginny, I don’t know that I could make the right choice. I’m not even sure that I’d want to.” He gave Mr Weasley a troubled look. “Voldemort has already used someone I loved as bait once, and it would have worked if Dumbledore hadn’t turned up when he did. I can’t have this in my head. It’s just too big a risk.”
“Memory Charms can be broken, Harry. You know that,” Mr Weasley tried. Harry gave a hollow laugh in response.
“If Voldemort gets in a position to be able to try and break it, then that’s going to be the least of my worries.” he replied. “I’m not going to change my mind, Mr Weasley. If you won’t do it, I’ll ask Fred or George, or maybe even Hermione.”
Realising he wasn’t going to win the argument, Mr Weasley rubbed his eyes wearily as he tried to decide what to do next. It didn’t take long; he’d known since the start of the conversation what the outcome would be. All the arguments had simply been to delay the inevitable.
“What a lot of people don’t realise, Harry,” he said slowly, “is that a Memory Charm doesn’t actually remove a persons memories, it just blocks the mind's access to them. That’s why they can be broken by a skilled wizard.” Harry immediately looked worried. “A Pensieve can be used to remove a memory,” Mr Weasley continued, “but the mind still retains a copy, although it can be a bit less distinctive. However, if you remove a memory to a Pensieve, and then undergo a Memory Charm, the minds link to the memory can be damaged enough for it to be irretrievable.” He looked directly at Harry. “I won’t lie to you though, Harry. It’s a very dangerous procedure. There is a very big risk of permanent injury, especially if you have a history of head injuries or psychological trauma.” He looked meaningfully at Harry’s scar. Harry hadn’t missed the reference and was rubbing his forehead nervously. The determined expression didn’t leave his eyes though.
“I don’t have anything to use as a container,” he said. “Can you conjure something?”
Sighing in resignation, Mr Weasley wordlessly produced a small flask, and placed it carefully on the table, before moving around until the tip of his wand was a fraction away from Harry’s temple.
“This is the really important bit, Harry,” he explained. “You must collect all the memories you want to remove together. Really concentrate on them; keep them as clear as you can. When you’re ready, just nod.”
This was the bit Harry had been dreading. How many memories did he dare keep? Part of him wanted to remove all the memories from Dumbledore’s funeral onwards, but he also knew that now more than ever he had something to fight for. He needed to keep some link to that, no matter how tenuous it was. Finally he settled on the talk he and Ginny had had by the pond. That was the last memory he would keep. Concentrating furiously he collected all the events since then together in his head, and taking a deep breath, nodded firmly.
As Mr Weasley moved his wand away from Harry’s head, Harry thought he was seeing a special effect from a Muggle film. He could see the memories in his mind's eye, and as he watched they seemed to split in two, a top layer peeling away as Mr Weasley pulled them out of his head, leaving a slightly grainy set of recollections behind.
“You should still have the thoughts in your mind, Harry,” Mr Weasley's voice was mixed in with various clinking sounds as he stopped the flask. “You must hold onto them, that’s very important. Nod if you still have them.”
Steeling himself, Harry nodded.
“Okay,” Mr Weasleys’ voice was wavering now. “Here we go. Ready… OBLIVIATE!”
