Familial Love

Skin and Bones

Harry's face reddened under the direct gaze of Mr and Mrs Weasley. He folded his arms over his chest, suddenly self-conscious of his boney appearance. He'd spent all summer trapped in his room at the Dursleys' and he knew that he was looking particularly boney and pale. This used to happen every year after summer holidays ended and he headed back to school. Harry remembered the countless times in September where he would change in the back corner of the locker room before football practice, hoping the other boys wouldn't notice his scrawny body from too many missed meals at home. Fortunately, no one had paid enough attention  for it be another point of ridicule for Dudley's gang. But this was different, Harry thought. Surely Mr and Mrs Weasley weren't going to make fun of him for being skinny and small as he always had been, even if it was particularly bad this time. Harry gripped Mr Weasley's jumper closer to his body. For a second he considered slipping it over his head to stop them gawping at him, despite it being a bit smelly. He had a creeping sense of dread that he'd done something horribly wrong. He thought he was being helpful sorting out Mrs Weasley's washing basket - Aunt Petunia was so particular about how she liked it. Harry had spent countless hours sorting out lights, from darks. Turning jeans inside out and socks the right way round to be washed properly. But maybe, Harry thought suddenly, Mrs Weasley liked the washing unsorted because she had her own method. Maybe Harry had ruined her system. Suddenly Mrs Weasley rushed towards him. Cold panic washed over his body, waiting for the strike he so often received at home. He had messed up. Harry flinched, gripping the jumper tightly. But instead of feeling a sudden shock of pain, to Harry's surprise, Molly Weasley folded her arms around him in a gentle, motherly embrace. Slowly Harry opened eyes and instead of seeing angry faces, he saw the concerned face of Arthur Weasley as he folded his newspaper and stood up from his chair, making his way over to where Harry and Molly stood. Harry then came to realise that Mrs Weasley was shaking a little, and as she pulled out of the hug, that she was crying. Harry thought this was a little rediculous. Surely he couldn't have got the washing so wrong that she was reduced to tears. 

"I'm...sorry." Harry managed, bewildered by the experience. 

"Don't...don't you be sorry, my dear boy." Molly choked back at him, wiping a tear that was escaping down her cheek. "I..just...I just can't believe..." She hiccuped. 

"I can't believe you've been treated like this." Mr Weasley finished for her. "How long have they been...hitting you, Harry?" He said the last part of the sentence as if the words had got stuck somewhere in his throat. 

"Oh." Said Harry, taken aback by the sudden question. "Ohh!" Harry suddenly realised what the Weasleys must have seen. His Uncle had taken to only striking him across the back or down the back of his legs. And one the initial stinging and discomfort had subsided he would honestly forget they were there.  "Oh that...they...It's really not that big of a deal Mr Weasley. I barely notice them." Harry rubbed his neck a bit shyly, secretly wishing Ron would hurry up so he put a t-shirt on. 

"Not that big a deal!" Mrs Weasley blew up. Her rage had returned to her after the initial shock of seeing Harry's battered and underfed body. "Not that big a...It's an outrage!" Harry couldn't help but notice she seemed a bit like a lioness, with her red hair wild and unruly as she roared. "You're in their care, Harry. It's their job, their duty to look after you. After all you've been through as well. On your own in that house. And look at you, you're skin and bone." Mrs Weasley gripped her wand hard and Harry noticed some little sparks shoot from the end unbidden. He had never seen her this angry, not even this morning when they had arrived, illegally, in Arthur's car. It was a different type of anger this time, a towering volcano of rage that seemed to light her up from the inside. "If I ever get a hold of those muggles I'm going to.."

"Molly dear.  This isn't helping. Can't you see Harry is obviously confused." Mr Weasley interrupted and was now gesturing at Harry who was looking particularly astounded by her reaction. "Harry, look, this is something that we're going to have to discuss with Professor Dumbledore."  He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, careful to be particularly gentle. "In the meantime I want you to know that you have a place here in our home with us, ok?" Mr Weasley locked eyes with Harry in a particularly intense way and Harry noticed he too was welling up slightly. Harry, embarrassed, decided to stare down at his toe which was peeking out through a hole in one of his socks.  "Harry, look at me." Harry reluctantly met his gaze. "You're safe here. And we will on no occasion, no matter what happens, let you be starved or..or hit again. Is that understood." Harry nodded sheepishly, not really knowing what to say, and with that Arthur pulled him into a hug. 

Harry was surprised, but also very grateful when Molly wrapped her arms around them both too. He was stunned to realise this was the first time in his memory this had ever happened to him.