But Harry didn't mind. He liked porridge any way he could get it, even without honey, if Father had said no to that. He kept glancing down at Treacle, though, to make sure she was okay. He missed having her in his lap.
"Harry," Father said when he was about half way through his porridge. "Remember what we talked about last night, about needing someone better to watch you during the day?" He waited till Harry nodded. "Well, I spoke to Mrs. Weasley after you were in bed, and she is coming to be with you today, and with several of her children, I believe. Regardless, she will look after you today, while I'm in class."
Harry swallowed the bite of sweetened porridge he had in his mouth, and ducked his head again. He wanted to stay at Hogwarts! He didn't want to separated from his father. He didn't want to be with anyone else. But Father . . . he needed to work. And Harry didn't want him to think he was just a baby who would cry about being left behind.
"Harry," came Father's gentle voice. "Please look at me, son."
Harry obeyed, though he didn't want to. He didn't want Father to think he was upset or anything. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"It's all right," Father continued, still using his soothing voice, as Harry called it. "She . . . Mrs. Weasley has many children, as you know, and she is very experienced in watching after them. She will be very good to you. And, as I mentioned, I think she will bring at least Ron with her, so you'll have someone to play with. Won't that be fun?"
Harry made himself nod. "Yes, Father. But I don't know that place."
"No, Harry. You will all stay here, today, so you can get to know Mrs. Weasley better, and her other children, if she brings them, too. I asked if she could stay here for a few days or so, to let you get used to her here, before we ever go to the Weasley's house."
"Will . . ." Harry swallowed again. "Will you go there with me?"
Father nodded. "The first time, certainly. I won't make you go alone. I am, that is . . . I am concerned, Harry, about the level of supervision you've been experiencing since I had to start classes, and I want to make sure you're happy, too. The best I can."
Father was trying his best. Harry knew that. And it wasn't fair of Harry to try and keep his father all to himself. Uncle Vernon had to work, and other kids' fathers, and some of their mums, too, he remembered from day school. "Okay. It'll be okay, Father."
"I hope so, Harry. If it isn't, I want you to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me if anything is upsetting you. Will you try and do that for me?"
No one had ever wanted to hear from him before if he was upset. And he'd learned years ago that no one really wanted to hear anything he had to say about stuff like that, that if he tried, he would be punished. Sometimes, a lot. But Father seemed to be telling the truth. "I . . . I'll try, Father."
Father gave one of his thin smiles. "That's all I can ask." He nodded at Harry's bowl. "Finish up, please. Then I would like you to get dressed." He paused. "Do you need any help?"
"No! I can get dressed myself."
Father shook his head, that slight crinkle around his eyes. "I did not mean to impugn your ability to dress yourself, Harry. In truth, I was inquiring whether your ankle was well enough, or whether you required any assistance."
Oh. That was different. "No, Father. It feels fine today. Madam Pomfrey fixed it real good."
"She fixed it really well."
"Yep."
Father laughed softly and reached for his cup of coffee. "Finish your breakfast, silly imp."
Harry giggled and hurried through the rest of the porridge.
---
He was dressed for play, with his hair combed and teeth brushed, waiting in front of the Floo for Mrs. Weasley to come through. He had met her several times, of course, the week that Ron was here, and Charlie, but she had mostly been talking with Father, and what he remembered most about her was that she kept reaching for him like she wanted to smother him in a hug. She never actually did, he told himself. But the mere possibility still frightened him. He'd only let Father hug him, up to now. Father was the only one he knew would not hurt him.
"All right, Harry?" Father asked.
Harry nodded tightly, and gripped Father's hand in his own. Father squeezed back gently, and Harry was very, very glad that he didn't have to go through this alone. Father had classes coming up very soon -- in less than a half hour, actually -- but he had promised to stay until the Weasleys got here.
At that moment, the fireplace roared with green fire and Mrs. Weasley stepped out, her arm curled around a small girl with red hair. Well, she wasn't small compared to Harry, but compared to Mrs. Weasley . . .
"Good morning, Severus," Mrs. Weasley said.
"Molly." Father inclined his head slightly.
The bulky woman turned her gaze on Harry and smiled warmly. Harry pressed himself closer to Father's leg. "Good morning, Harry."
Father gave his hand another squeeze, and he mustered up his courage for manners. "G'morning, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for coming."
She grinned. "You're very welcome, young man. It's good to see you again." As the Floo flared again, behind her, to spit out Ron amongst a gaggle of other arms and legs and red hair, Mrs. Weasley said, "This is my youngest, Ginny. Ginny, say hello."
The girl, who Harry had noticed was staring at him with her mouth open, blushed a shade of red brighter than her hair. "Hullo," she said quietly.
"Hi," Harry said, and glanced up at Father, who nodded.
Mrs. Weasley turned to the fireplace, and said, "Ronnie you know already, of course. The other two are my twins, Fred and George. Boys, straighten your shirts, please."
"Yes, Mum," they chorused, and their was a bit of a scuffle as the twins -- who looked exactly alike, as far as Harry could tell -- tried to straighten Ron's shirt, twisting and pulling at him between them, while he pushed them away and cried out, "Gerroff! Do yer own!"
Molly sighed a little and looked at Harry again. "You'll have to excuse them, they're a little excited."
"We're a lot--" said one of the new boys, as they quit picking on Ron and came forward as one.
"Excited, Mum. It's not every day--" said the other twin, picking up as if they were talking from the same brain.
"You get to meet someone--"
"Famous!"
"This is Fred," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing to the boy on the left. "And this is George."
"Mum!" said the one she had called George. "I'm Fred."
"Honestly! And you call yourself our mother . . ." The other twin sighed.
"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley shook her head and peered at the boys. "I'm sorry, Fred."
"Just kidding, Mum." The boy grinned. "I am George."
"Now that introductions are well under way," Father said, his words clipped and precise, "I believe I must make my way to class."
Harry looked up at him, wanting to ask him to stay, but knowing he should not. Treacle Tart chose that moment to twine in through his legs, and he smiled at her, bending to scratch her under the chin.
"Oi!" said Fred . . . or George. "You've got a kneazle!"
"You didn't have it last week," Ron said. "Where'd you get it?"
"Hagrid gave me her," Harry said, picking her up and showing off her white coat and cute little toes to the others. "Isn't she pretty?"
"She's a beaut, she is," said George . . . or Fred. "Lookit those eyes."
"Can I pet her?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded, hardly noticing that Father had stepped away, toward the door, with Mrs. Weasley. "She likes her ears scritched." He grinned. "And she likes bacon."
"She's got good taste, then," said one of the twins. "Bacon's the best thing in the world."
"After Quidditch," said the other twin.
"And pranks."
"Like dousing Percy--"
"With a Rainbow Hair Tonic. Nothing better--"
"Than seeing that prat with--"