Harry wanted to wonder how anyone could come out at the wrong place but knew he was just trying to distract himself from having to address the uncomfortable moment of truth.
"Actually, Hermione's not coming," he said, somewhat embarrassedly. "She and her dad had to head back home."
"Oh, that's too bad, dear," Mrs. Weasley commiserated. "Of course they're welcome here any time. Merlin knows a girl needs her mother and a girl without one could use all the friends she can get."
"I'm glad to hear you say that," Harry said as he slunk into a chair at the table with a squirm in his stomach. "Because I did invite a girl over, but it wasn't Hermione who'd lost her mother. Sorry for the mistake. It was someone else who was at the Hopefuls meeting."
"Oh, thank goodness," Molly said, a look of relief evident on her face. "Not that I wouldn't be delighted to get to know your girl better, dear, I'm just relieved such an awful thing didn't happen to her."
Harry tried to clear his conscience about setting up Mrs. Weasley for such a huge emotional blow but he didn't make much headway on it. She was obviously a very caring person and in spite of her disagreement with Mrs. Lovegood, her heart must've been in the right place, or at least that's what Harry was choosing to believe. It made everything so much harder to get through.
"So tell me about this girl you invited," Molly said, fingering one of the Prophets . "And where is she? I take it she's not a muggleborn?" she asked, obviously wondering why the mystery girl wasn't here yet.
"I think she wanted to make sure her dad was okay," he said, deciding to go with a version of the truth. "He didn't take it too well when his wife came up in conversation. He actually runs a wizarding magazine, so they must know how to use the floo," Harry finished weakly, seeing the odd calculating look grow on Molly's face.
'How many wizarding magazines were there?' Harry wondered as he ran a hand through his hair to flatten it down, really wanting to avoid having to say what came next.
In truth he wasn't sure how many wizarding magazines there were since he'd never seen one, so who knows how many people across the country he could be describing. His stomach fell when he realized that she must've been trying to put the pieces together. As much as he hated it, he was just going to have to say it.
"Her name's Luna," Harry said finally. "Luna Lovegood."
"Oh! That's-," Mrs. Weasley's homey voice of recognition cut off quickly as the rest of what he meant caught up to her.
Harry wished he could look away but he couldn't, the look that began to grow on Molly's face and the way she covered her mouth with her hand as if to take back anything hurtful she may have said before just wasn't right. No one should have to look like that. No one should have to feel hurt, or be crushed like Mr. Lovegood had been, or how-
But when it came to that, why didn't anyone ever look that way when it came to his parents? Why did they think it was okay to go on about how famous he was without once having a kind thing to say about their deaths? Was it because he had never gotten to know them, so to their minds it wasn't like he was missing anything? Maybe they hadn't ever gotten to know them either and only thought of them as tragic but valiant heroes out of stories, like those stupid Boy-Who-Lived books brought to life; like they hadn't really existed at all. Maybe he wanted to miss them, had they ever thought of that?
"Are you alright?" Harry asked, finally managing to look away. It wasn't a shock to find that his eyes were just as misty as Molly's was.
"It's just… ," she said, sounding more than a little lost. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, dear," Mrs. Weasley murmured, getting to her feet and walking away. At the living room she turned back to him. "The boys are out back, if - if you want," she said nebulously, but for once he didn't feel like Quidditch.
When she hit the stairs he realized what she was going to do - she was going to tell Ginny that her best friend's mother was dead. If he couldn't think of the people they were trying to help as victims of their own attempts to help them then he was a horrible manipulator. He knew then that he and Hermione should never try to do something like this again. At the very least they should talk about it and actually be honest with everyone instead of going behind their backs. Harry didn't know how he could feel any worse.
Suddenly a high-pitched shriek tore through the house, and then another close behind.
'Just how bad was she taking this?' Harry wondered.
After that something truly bizarre happened.
"We are the Harpies! The Holyhead Harpies! We will never fail!" Ginny's voice rang out. "We'll fly through the night and put up a fight, thr-"
Brief as it was, he heaved a sigh of relief when it suddenly cut off and Mrs. Weasley reentered putting her wand back in her pocket. She hesitated on seeing him still at the table.
"She's not been feeling well," Molly said lamely. "I think friends will do them both a world of good. It was very nice of you," she said with a smile he didn't deserve.
As she made her way to the kitchen Harry wondered if it wouldn't be better if he went outside after all, but he doubted the guys would understand and he certainly didn't want to add any more misery to the place. Molly had pulled out flour, milk, eggs, and butter and had just opened a cabinet for a large bowl when it disappeared and Dobby appeared beside her with it.
"Missus needs something cooked? Dobby can cook," the little elf said energetically, glancing between him and Molly to see which one would say yes first.
"Yes you can, dear," Molly said, taking the bowl from him with a pat on the head. "And you cook very well; I'd just feel better doing this part of dinner myself. I'll get out of your way after that because I know you want to make tonight extra special," she said supportively.
Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley curiously. Even having just been emotionally distressed she was better at manipulating people than he was. Was it a mother thing or a girl thing? He was starting to fear he'd always see people he was trying to help as victims of himself while Hermione had managed to get him to ask her out to Hogsmeade, and then again generally, well before they had even met up at Diagon Alley.
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