The Girl Who Hid | ✓

|117| Sour Seventeen

The Burrow was not built to accommodate so many people. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now sleeping in the sitting room, having shouted down Monsieur and Madame Delacour's protests and insisted they take their bedroom. Gabrielle was sleeping with Fleur in Percy's old room, and Bill would be sharing with Charlie, his best man, once Charlie arrived from Romania. Opportunities to make plans together became virtually nonexistent, and it was in desperation that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I took to volunteering to feed the chickens just to escape the overcrowded house.

"But she still won't leave us alone!" snarled Ron, as our second attempt at a meeting in the yard was foiled by the appearance of Mrs. Weasley carrying a large basket of laundry in her arms.

"Oh, good, you've fed the chickens," she called as she approached us. "We'd better shut them away again before the men arrive tomorrow... to put up the tent for the wedding," she explained, pausing to lean against the henhouse. She looked exhausted. "Millamant's Magic Marquees... they're very good, Bill's escorting them. You both'd better stay inside while they're here, Harry and Maisey. I must say it does complicate organizing a wedding, having all these security spells around the place."

"I'm sorry," I said humbly.

"Oh, don't be silly, dear!" said Mrs. Weasley at once. "I didn't mean— well, your safety's much more important! Actually, I've been wanting to ask you two how you want to celebrate your birthdays. Seventeen, after all, it's an important day..."

Harry and I shook our head furiously.

"I don't want a fuss," said Harry quickly, envisaging the additional strain this would put on everyone.

"Really, Mrs. Weasley, just a normal dinner would be fine," I said softly. "It's the day before the wedding..."

"Oh, well, if you're sure, dears. I'll invite Remus and Tonks, shall I? And how about Hagrid?"

"That'd be great," said Harry. "But please don't go to loads of trouble. We don't want that."

"Not at all, not at all... It's no trouble..."

She looked at us, a long, searching look, then smiled a little sadly, straightened up, and walked away. I watched as she waved her wand near the washing line, and the damp clothes rose into the air to hang themselves up, and suddenly I felt a great wave of remorse for the inconvenience and the pain we were giving her.

I woke up crying, my body was shaking and my shoulder was hurting. Looking around, I saw Hermione propped up on her elbows.

"I was going to wake you up, but you've woken up yourself," she said. "You were whining in your sleep and I heard you start crying."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I whispered.

"I've grown used to it," Hermione shrugged. "Are you alright?"

"My scar hurts, I don't know why," I said. "I reckon Harry'll know."

"Hm, well anyways," Hermione paused, looking out the window and turned back to me, "Happy Birthday Maise!"

"Wow— that's right, I forgot! I'm seventeen!"

Reveling in the removal of my Trace, I sent Ginny's possessions flying around the room, causing her to wake up and hit her head on a flying book.

"Maisey!" Ginny whined, holding her forehead. "What'd you do that for?"

"I'm seventeen!" I squealed.

"Good for you," she grumbled, pulling the duvet over her head.

Hermione handed me her present, a charm for the bracelet Harry and Ron got me two years ago.