"And he needs to have something in his stomach to do well on his test," Mrs. Weasley said, moving over to the table and placing a few more slices of toast on Harry’s plate. "Harry, you look flushed, dear. Are you feeling all right?"
Mrs. Weasley put the back of her hand on Harry’s forehead to check if it was warm.
"I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry murmured, feeling anything but fine. He’d completely lost his appetite and felt as eager as Ron to leave the kitchen and the dangerously smirking twins.
"Don’t let the test worry you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, misinterpreting his unease. "I’m certain you’ll do fine. And even if you don’t, you can always take it again later."
"If Harry’s feeling peckish, Mum, I’m certain Ginny will be able to take care of him," Fred said with an evil grin. "She seems to know a lot about his needs these days."
Not wanting to hear anything more, Harry jumped from his chair and managed to spill his coffee all over the table in the process. Mrs. Weasley hurriedly grabbed a towel and began to sop up the mess.
"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, flustered. This only caused Fred and George to laugh harder.
Ginny glared at her brothers. "Ignore them, Harry," she whispered, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Good luck. You too, Ron."
"Yeah," Ron said, barely acknowledging any of them as he dragged Harry from the kitchen.
***
They had to use the visitor’s entrance when they arrived at the Ministry, causing Harry’s stomach to churn unpleasantly. Mr. Weasley placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze while they were inside the telephone box. Harry was grateful for the support but was even more appreciative of Mr. Weasley’s silence. He couldn’t bear right then to talk about what had happened the last time he’d been there. The memories were all too close to the surface.
When the telephone box sprang open, they stepped out and into the atrium. Harry had only a moment to notice that the fountain in the center of the room had been replaced before a throng of reporters rushed forward towards them.
"There he is," one of them shouted. "Mr. Potter, could you look this way."
Flashbulbs began going off in all directions while so many questions were fired at Harry that he couldn’t hear any of them.
Surprised, he remained motionless for a moment, staring blankly at the number of reporters. Mr. Weasley grabbed his arm and began pushing him
towards a glass doorway. Ron walked on his other side, attempting to shield him from view.
The doorway opened suddenly, and Percy Weasley stood motioning them inside. They sprinted through just as Percy slammed the door shut and sealed it with his wand. Harry could see the reporters banging on the glass while still shouting their questions and snapping pictures.
"This way," Percy said, leading them down a corridor and out of sight.
"What the devil was that all about?" Mr. Weasley asked, straightening his robes.
"That," Percy replied grimly, "was the Minister’s idea. He informed the press that you’d be arriving here this morning, Harry."
"Did he bother telling them I’m only here to get my Apparation license?" Harry asked, firing up at once.
"No. Although he never said you were meeting with him, he left the reason for your appearance very ambiguous," Percy replied, not meeting Harry’s eyes.
"What else aren’t you saying?" Harry asked instinctively.
"I was sent to get you away from the reporters and take you through security before you had time to answer any questions," Percy said, two bright spots of color appearing on his cheeks.
"You did what you had to do to keep your job," Harry said, waving his hand. "Besides, I didn’t really want to talk to those reporters, anyway."
Percy started for a moment, blinking behind his horn-rimmed spectacles. Finally, swallowing heavily, he said, "Thank you, Harry."
Harry again waved his hand in the air, "Bygones. We have more important worries at the moment."
"Still, I treated you very badly. I can see that now," Percy said, shifting uncomfortably. Harry could tell that apologizing was something Percy found very difficult to do.
"Percy, the best thing you can do now is to make things right with your family. These are dangerous times, and you don’t want to leave anything undone or unsaid until it’s too late. Take it from someone who knows," Harry said seriously.
Percy nodded gravely, his eyes shifted for a moment towards Ron who stood with his arms crossed across his chest and a scowl on his face.
"Your mother will be pleased to hear we spoke, Percy," Mr. Weasley said, his voice sounding slightly choked.
"I’ll visit her soon. You’d best head up to the testing center. They’re expecting you," he said before turning on his heel and hurrying down the corridor.
"I can’t believe you let him off that easily," Ron said, shaking his head.
"He’s your brother, Ron," Harry replied.
"All the more reason he shouldn’t have acted like such a git," Ron said, scowling. "It’ll take a bit more than that for me to forgive him."
Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley, expecting him to reprimand Ron. The older man didn’t, however, apparently accepting that Percy would have to mend his relationship with his siblings on his own.
"We’d best go upstairs," Mr. Weasley said brightly, pressing the button for the lift and wearing a wide grin that made him appear younger than he had in months.
When they reached the testing center, they found it empty except for a young witch who was sitting at the reception desk. She smiled engagingly and lowered her lashes, telling them to take a seat. They sat in comfortable chairs while the witch cast flirtatious smiles across the desk. Harry shifted uncomfortably while Ron perked up straightly in his chair. After several moments, the witch began to pout, sticking her heavily painted lip out dramatically. She obviously was seeking Harry’s attention, but he wasn’t heeding her advances.
Ron scowled when he realized the witch wasn’t paying any attention to him, and he began to fidget. His leg quickly bounced up and down as he shifted in his seat.
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry finally hissed. “You’ll do fine. You’ve done it before.”
“I hate tests,” Ron hissed back.
Mr. Weasley sat with his face behind a magazine pretending not to pay attention, although Harry could see his body twitching with suppressed chuckles. Thankfully, Harry’s name was called first, and he followed the stern-looking witch down the corridor and away from the receptionist and Ron’s nerves.
He emerged twenty minutes later sporting a huge grin with his Apparation license in his hand.
“Well done,” Mr. Weasley said, patting him on the back. “Well done, indeed. Why don’t you have a seat while we wait for Ron?”
Harry had the distinct impression that Mr. Weasley had something particular that he wanted to discuss, and Harry’s stomach twisted with nerves.
“Now you’ve come of age, I imagine some things will change,” Mr. Weasley said a bit too casually, while picking at a stray thread on the sleeve of his robes.
“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, resisting the urge to tug at his collar. His neck suddenly felt very hot and prickly.
“I’m aware that you were working on something with Albus before he died, and I can only assume you intend to finish what you’ve started,” Mr. Weasley said.
Harry forced himself not to fidget and to control his urge to blurt out everything. It was much harder to keep the truth from Mr. Weasley than it had been from Moody or Remus. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Mr. Weasley, but I really can’t-“
“I’m not asking you to tell me anything that you’re not comfortable in telling me, Harry. I do want you to know, however, that you can always come to me, or to anyone in the Order, for assistance if you feel you need it,” Mr. Weasley said solemnly. “You can come to me at any time, Harry.”
“Thank you,” Harry said, surprised. He knew that Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t like his involvement in anything to do with the Order, but he’d never considered the possibility that Mr. Weasley might see things differently, more objectively.
“I’m not promising that everyone in the Order will feel this way,” Mr. Weasley said, shifting his position. “I suspect there will be several people quite angry with you, actually. But I’ve watched you over the years as you’ve grown, Harry, and I know you are a more-than-capable wizard. You and Ron are adults now, and I can no longer expect to make decisions for you.”
“And Mrs. Weasley?” Harry asked, fearing the answer. Harry dreaded her disapproval almost as much as he had Dumbledore’s.
“Molly will be angry, but I think you know that. You and Ron will always be her little boys. She doesn’t want to let go. She’s a strong witch, though; she’ll be all right. She loves you, Harry; she’ll forgive you,” Mr. Weasley replied, his expression softening.
Harry noticed that although Mr. Weasley suspected that Ron would be leaving with Harry, he had no idea about Ginny. He wondered if his feelings would change when his daughter disappeared, as well. Somehow, he suspected it was easier for Mr. Weasley to see his sons as men than it was to see Ginny as a woman.
“I hope so,” Harry replied earnestly.
“Might I suggest that you make a very public trip through Diagon Alley after you leave here?” Mr. Weasley asked cagily. His eyes gleamed slightly with mischief, reminding Harry of Fred and George.
“But...won’t that draw a lot of attention?” Harry asked, confused. The Order had always made such a point of keeping his movements secret and hidden.
“Precisely. And if every so often you’re seen publicly, those half-wits downstairs will be more than happy to report it. It would serve you
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