Chapter 08
When Harry arrived at Serbia's Ministry of Magic, he was immediately led into a private office. There he found Ron waiting, seated on a chair by the window with one leg crossed over his other thigh. Ron’s face was turned outside towards the sparkling city of Belgrade; still, the dark of the night reflected back the worried, faraway look on his face. Ron turned his head to the door as Harry entered, uncrossed his legs and slowly stood up. He started to speak until he noticed the Serbian wizard standing just behind Harry. Harry, taking his friend’s lead, thanked the said employee for his assistance and waited until the wizard had gone and closed the door behind him before he turned to Ron and spoke.
“What happened? Is something wrong with Hermione?” Harry said, his calm voice belying his worry.
Ron shook his head. “No, it's not Hermione.” He took a moment before he spoke again. “Look, Harry, can I borrow the Menat necklace? We really need it.”
“Of course,” Harry said, without even asking why. He pulled out the mokeskin from underneath his clothes, took out the necklace, walked over to Ron and handed the jewelry over to his friend.
“Thanks, mate,” Ron said as he very carefully took the necklace from Harry’s hand.
Harry watched as Ron put the necklace into his own mokeskin that Harry had given to him as a Christmas gift the year they won the war.
“But why do you need it though?” Harry said out of curiosity, trying to remember what Ginny had said regarding the necklace.
Ron took his time answering. He went back to his chair and sat down. “It's for Ginny. She's pregnant,” he said, looking up at Harry.
“Oh.” Harry turned around, pretending to look for a chair so he could sit himself. Protectress of pregnant women. Didn't Ginny say that? Well, there you go, there's one use of the necklace that you'll always remember, said Harry bitterly to himself. “When’s the wedding?” Harry found himself saying out loud instead, trying to keep all traces of emotion out of his voice. “He sure is one lucky bloke,” he added, his insides writhing with jealousy. For if there was anything Harry knew, he knew at least this: one, no daughter of Molly Weasley would ever get pregnant and remain unmarried for very long, and two, if Ginny indeed were about to get married, then he would surely know of it; Molly Weasley herself would drag his sorry arse from the ends of the earth to make sure that he attended a wedding in the family.
"It's not like that. We don’t even know who the father is,” Ron said.
Harry turned around and looked closely at his friend. “What do you mean?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this? It happened the time you left home.”
“Tell me everything,” Harry said as he sat down in front of Ron.
Ron took his time speaking. He leaned back on his own chair and ran a hand through his hair. Then he looked back at Harry, his expression somber. “Remember Soay? The Harpies had a semifinals game that day.”
“Of course.” Harry said calmly. He was in Auror mode now, waiting to hear all the facts first before he reacted.
“I’m not sure if you knew, they won that game.”
“I know. I overheard some people mentioning it in the Ministry corridors.”
“So you know that the Harpies had a victory party later that evening?”
Harry nodded. “Didn’t I ask you the day before if we already have people covering both the games and the afterparty and you said yes?”
“But you didn’t ask me who, remember?” Ron stopped for a pause. “It’s Donaghy and Turbitt.”
He and Harry exchanged a look.
“And nobody knew except you.”
“And nobody knew except me,” Ron repeated. “Who could? I personally asked them. It’s voluntary, after all. Everyone in the department did it more as a favor to me than anything. And then Soay happened and everyone’s mind was on the failed operation and not the god-damned party,” said Ron angrily.
“But what has it got to do with Ginny’s pregnancy?”
“Someone’s spiked all the food and drinks. Everything, including the butterbeers, and you know Ginny doesn’t take anything alcoholic.”
“When you mean spiked – “
“It’s Potion X.”
“The sex enhancement drug? The one involved in the Wigtown’s sex party last hols?”
“The one and the same. Everyone who was there at the party took the potion in. And in quantities a lot more than what was used at the Wigtown’s party. And it’s got all these side effects. Amnesia….” He seemed to say more but hesitated, looking at Harry.
"But why haven't I heard of it?"
"Well, you’ve already gone even before the news broke out. George said you were the first he tried contacting when he heard the rumors but he couldn’t get through to you. It’s only when Ginny got home and told the family that they tried the Tonks’ home and that’s where they knew you’ve already left the country. And you'll never read it in the papers either ‘coz the Harpies management kept a tight lid on it. Quite frankly, you leaving the country was bigger news back then. Besides, even if they had been reported in the papers, I didn't think you followed up with the news from England, either.”
Harry leaned back and looked sharply at his friend. “So, what are you saying? Are you telling me Ginny’s been raped?”
“Well I’m not sure about the rape part. Ginny doesn’t remember anything about the party except arriving at the manor itself. As in nada. So we don’t know who the father might be. Or if Ginny’s been raped at all. Because, really, who raped who? Everyone who attended that party was under the influence of the potion. We've studied some of the memories of those who were at the party - the few we could get, mainly friends of Ginny. And there’s very little we’ve learned.”
“What about Ginny’s boyfriend - what’s his name – what about him?”
“He and Ginny are no longer together. They’ve broken up weeks before the game. Twat was cheating on her.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was Bill and George, actually. They’ve never really trusted the git. Too polished. Too perfect. So we decided to follow him. Had a girl in every country where he has a store, the lying, cheating bastard! So we sent Ginny some pictures – anonymously, of course – and Ginny dumped him.”
“When was this? How come I don’t know anything about it?”
“Well, for one thing, you were kinda busy with that Armenian wizard back then. And frankly, at first, we weren’t sure. They were just suspicions. Nothing concrete. Jackass was careful not to do anything stupid while he’s in the country. You don’t really expect us to drag you from an active case, don’t you, just on a mere hunch?”
“Ron, how many times?” Harry said exasperatedly. “Your family comes first.”
“Well….At least we don’t think it’s Philip, you know, Ginny’s ex,” Ron said, trying to redirect Harry’s growing annoyance. “Though we haven’t ruled him out completely. He was there though he shouldn’t be – he was stricken off the guests’ list weeks before when Ginny broke up with him. And they fought. It’s in Sylvie’s memories. But it’s still possible that he could be the father of Ginny’s child. “
“How? If they’ve broken up already?”
“It’s the potion, remember? We know Philip took some in. He took a swig of alcohol as he left the party. Pilfered it from a tray by a passing waiter. Didn't look like he knew that the drinks and food had been spiked. Or so it seemed to us. Then Ginny left a couple of hours later. By that time we couldn't find any intact memories from what we've taken except from the guard manning the gates. That's how we learned how Philip was able to crash the party. He lied to the guard. Said that he deliberately told Ginny that he wouldn't be able to make it to the party. Said he'd been planning a surprise. He was gonna ask Ginny to marry him. Of course, the guard didn't know that Philip was lying. Everybody knew him to be Ginny's boyfriend. And then he left alone, he made an excuse that he had a business emergency and that he had to leave but then told the guard that Ginny accepted his proposal. So when Ginny left the party, the guard congratulated her and Ginny blew a gasket. I mean, literally. She was really angry that night. And then she Disapparated – to where we have no idea, if she went to Philip's flat or what, to give him what-for. Next thing she remembers, she’s at home at the Burrow the next morning.”
Harry tried not to remember the events of that morning that he knew followed.
“Would she do that? Go to his house?” he said.
“If Ginny's really angry? She would.”
Harry massaged his temple, trying to think. “How about your Mum and Dad?” he said at length.
“Mum and Dad were both asleep the entire night. They don't know when Ginny arrived that night – or morning. Mum said when she went downstairs to prepare breakfast, she looked at the family clock and saw Ginny was already home, so she didn't think there was much to it.”
“How about you?”
“You know that I can’t really pursue the case actively. You know the rule, no Dark Magic involved, the Auror Department doesn’t get involved; the MLES still has the case. It’s been months and they still haven’t got a suspect.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“I’ve told you everything we’ve found so far. The little that we know came from our own investigations. Bill and the others. Even Percy. We’re lucky to have gathered a few memories from Ginny’s friends. All unofficial, of course. And from Ginny’s own memory itself. That’s how we know that she couldn’t have gotten pregnant at any time except that night. We know that before she left for the party she was still a virgin.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Mum.”
Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend, waiting.
“It was Bill actually. When he asked Ginny for her memory, he noticed Mum, knew something was up when Mum kept asking if we should just concentrate on Ginny's memory of the party. And there it was, in Ginny's memory. Mum sprinkled the entire kitchen floor with the powdered horn of a unicorn,” said Ron. He paused for a while, looking at Harry. “You know all about unicorns, don't you? Same use really. Just a different method. It's an old tradition, actually; quite popular back in the Middle Ages when arranged marriages were the norm. On the wedding ceremony itself, brides were required to step on powdered unicorn horn to prove they're still virgins. If she leaves a footprint, then she’s still a virgin. If not, then…”
Harry whistled. “And your mum's been testing Ginny?”
“For quite some time now, Bill reckons.”
“Does Ginny know that your mum's been doing that?”
“Are you kidding? That would be third world war, that would.”
Harry kept quiet for awhile, trying to take in everything that he had heard. He looked at Ron who was watching him, Harry was careful though not to show any of his true emotions.
"You know, sometimes your mum really scares me," Harry said after a while.
Ron raised an eyebrow and said, “You only realize that now?”
“But why though? Why would your mum do that?”
“Because we're pureblood.”
“So?”
“Well you know how the wizarding world's been reacting to me and Hermione?”
“Well, yeah. They treat you as a sideshow, actually.”
Ron chose to ignore Harry's comment.
“Well, if Hermione's been a pureblood, they would be singing a different song entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, people have only been largely tolerant of me and ‘Mione because she’s Muggle-born. But if she had been a pureblood, people would be vilifying her right and left; she'll be called a harlot woman.”
“Really? Harlot? Vilify?”
“Well, that's what Percy's been harping at my ears. He seemed to blame me and Hermione for the 'slow advance of his career',“ said Ron, making air quotations as he said the words. ”Whatever that's supposed to mean.” Ron said, disgruntled at the fact that, in certain respects, his elder brother still hadn't changed.
“I still don't understand,” said Harry. “Didn't we just fight a war against all that pureblood nonsense?”
“We did. But this is different. No matter what you say, people look at us different.”
When Harry still sat there waiting for further explanation, Ron continued.
“Look, Harry, you know sometimes how mum says some things? You know, words like scarlet woman and all that? It's because purebloods tend to be that way. They're a bit old-fashioned.“
“And yet you do it to Hermione,” Harry said.
“I'm not doing it to her,” said Ron indignantly. “If you've only been there, you'd know that most of the time, it was Hermione that, you know....” Ron trailed off, becoming sheepish yet smug at the same time.
“Thanks a lot,” said Harry sarcastically. “Now, there's an image I’d like to keep in my head; bad enough that I have to read about your sex life in the papers.”
Ron mumbled something incoherent.
Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he asked, “Still, why would your mother do that to Ginny? As far as I know, Ginny never gave her a reason to doubt her behavior.”
“Honest? Bill reckons mum’s been worrying about Ginny being influenced by me and Hermione. It could ruin Ginny's reputation.”
“But why would anyone care? It’s 2004.”
Ron sighed. “Mum would.”
The two became quiet, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Despite the circumstances, hope bloomed in Harry’s heart. All he could really think about was that Ginny’s not in love with another man. He didn’t care about the fact that she’s carrying another man’s child. If Ginny wants to keep the baby, then I will love it as if it were my own, Harry vowed to himself.
Yet something niggled at his mind.
“But why does Ginny need the necklace?” he said after a while.
“Because she's dying.”
Harry felt as if ice shards had suddenly formed in his insides. Blood was pounding in his ears and he thought he might not have heard correctly.
“What did you say?” he said.
“It's the potion,” said Ron, rubbing down his face with his huge hand and so did not note the look on Harry’s face. “It causes internal bleeding. Her own magic has gone haywire, trying to push the toxins out of her body. She can’t even do magic ‘coz she’s liable to blow things up.” Ron sat back and looked at Harry. “Her Healers don’t think Ginny’d be able to survive the pregnancy, unless we do something soon. They offered to place her under magical stasis, but they aren’t even sure if they can wake Ginny up from that. The Menat necklace is the only thing we can think of that could save her now."
“Ron, this is serious. You should have told me sooner,” Harry said, keeping his voice low and even despite the riot of emotions running through him.
"I know. I know. I’ve already beaten myself up over what has happened to her. Hermione's parents are beginning to think that we're fighting 'coz Mione's been sleeping over at their house more often these days. But the truth is, I've been sleeping over at the Burrow a lot these days tho’ Ginny doesn't know. She hates us, you know. Me and Hermione. And I don’t blame her. If we hadn't gone away that weekend then none of this would have happened.”
“No, you can’t be sure of that.”
"I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s hard, just watching Ginny. She’s changed. You should have seen her Harry. It's almost like she's given up. And who can blame her? She was not even given time to process what happened at the party, and then - bam! - she’s pregnant and most likely to die,” Ron said, the anguish now evident in his voice. "Even Charlie went home; he wanted to stay and find work in England. But Ginny said no. Anyway, the only real place in England that Charlie could work with dragons is at Gringotts Bank, and you know what they do with their dragons. I never told him, 'bout how the goblins treat their dragons. And I don't think Bill has, either. Charlie would surely have a conniption if he ever knew."
“Still, why didn't I hear any of this?”
"Well, you didn't want to hear any news from home, remember? Every time me and Hermione would start talking about anyone in the family, you get this look on your face. Knew you were having problems; didn't want to burden you with anymore. Hermione thought we'd wait until you've gotten whatever was bothering you out of your system.”
Harry looked his friend directly in the eye. “Ron, you should know by now what my priorities are. You still should have informed me. I would never have left home if I knew what was happening. Your family comes first,” said Harry, and he meant it, thinking of Ginny.
“Sorry, mate,” Ron said, though the words were automatic.
“It's me who should be sorry. I should never have left.” Harry kept quiet for a time, mulling the things he just heard over in his head. He’d heard of Potion X, but knew it more as a sex enhancement drug. He tried to remember of any reports of it causing death. But what drug or potion was not fatal, if taken in large amounts?
Harry looked out the window, guilt now weighing heavy on his mind, his heart. All those times when he was wallowing in self-pity, Ginny's life had been in danger. One horrific thought suddenly dawned upon him. The luminous glow he'd seen on Ginny's face, it could very well not have been sexual afterglow, after all. For how many hours had since passed since Ginny had the encounter? It could have been the potion, working its way through her system, and her own body reacting to it, her blood vessels starting to dilate in an effort to expel the toxins in her body. While he was thinking the worst, the potion was already starting to slowly kill Ginny.
Ron must have noticed the look on Harry's face because he started speaking in a placating tone.
"Look, Harry, I'm your friend. And Ginny's my sister. The thing is, Hermione believes that Ginny hasn't really gotten over you. Not ever. Since, you know, first time she saw you at the Burrow. Heck, maybe even the first time she saw you at King's Cross, remember? So, Hermione didn't think that Ginny would want you to know about her condition. Hermione thinks that deep down, Ginny's always been waiting for you.”
Harry turned his face towards Ron, wrenched from his spiraling guilt trip.
“All those boyfriends and Ginny remains a virgin. Pureblood or not, she’s been saving herself for you, mate, that’s what we think. And now Ginny finds herself pregnant and she doesn’t even know who the father is. I'm not telling you this 'coz I'm thinking I can call on our friendship and expect you to return her feelings. I can't make you love my sister just because I'm your best mate."
“But I do care about her, Ron,” Harry said earnestly.
“I know you do,” Ron said, misreading Harry’s words. “I remember how you got when George was attacked at Diagon Alley. Remember, a few months after the war? You were very angry then. And then you started sleeping over at George's flat. Don't think I didn't know what you were doing at that time. I know you love my family. We all know that. But this thing that happened to Ginny, it wasn't your fault at all. So don't go start blaming yourself, okay?”
“Still, the moment there's been a problem, you should have told me.”
“I’m sorry.”
But the burden was upon Harry now. His blood ran cold at the thought that at any time in the past three months he could have lost Ginny. Guilt now hang heavy on his head at the realization of what he did to her. He didn’t realize that there at the Burrow, Ginny was already dying. Even as they were speaking, the poison was already streaming through her body, had already begun its slow killing of her. And he walked out on her! How could he even begin to forgive himself for what he did?
He did not know if there was anything he could do to remove the poisonous ingredients in her body but he would move heaven and earth to try and help her. He would do anything, everything in his power to save her life. That was the most important thing, the only thing to do now.
Harry then looked back at Ron. His friend still seemed worried but not as worried-looking as when Harry entered the room. Harry stood up. “Let’s go,” he said to Ron.
Ron stood up as well, but then hesitated and shifted nervously on his feet.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
"Uhm, well, it’s about Kingsley.” Harry had to wait a few more seconds before Ron spoke up again. “Well, you know how it's no secret in the Ministry that you couldn't really have left the country if Kingsley had not okayed it?"
"Yeah? So?"
"Well, someone's been hexing Kingsley ever since you left. Or maybe perhaps more than one."
"What do you mean? He's alright isn't he?"
"Yeah, he's okay. Healthwise." Ron paused for another heartbeat.
"Ron, why don't you just come right out and say it," Harry said impatiently.
"Well, the week after you left, someone gave Kingsley halitosis so bad that he spoke once inside the lift and we couldn't use it for three days."
"You're kidding."
"No, I swear. Then the week after that someone gave him stub horns on his forehead. And then after that, he grew a tail. This week, he’s got a huge nose with pores the size of Antarctica. Well, you get the picture."
"Wait a minute. Do you mean to tell me this has been happening every week since I left?" Harry said, and then remembered how sometimes Kingsley insisted on communicating by Patronus only.
"Every week," said Ron.
"But Kingsley never told me." Harry then turned an accusatory glare at Ron. "Nor you."
"We wouldn't. Kingsley asked us not to. He didn't want you to come home on his account. He wanted you to come home when you're ready. Kingsley said that if you came home out of sense of duty whatever was bothering you would only get worse in the end."
"Did they find out who was doing it?"
"No. Frankly, a lot of people actually think it's Hermione."
"Well? Did she?"
"I rightly don’t know. But, you know, even if ‘Mione did it, you wouldn't hear it from me now, would you?"
Harry did not answer. In three short months since he left England, so many things had happened. So many problems had arisen, problems he felt he was personally responsible for, that he now had to deal with. Yes, it was long past the time when he should’ve come home....
He did not realize that he had spoken the last part aloud for then Ron replied, "Honestly, Harry? I don't think that you should have even left home in the first place.”
~o~
Ron insisted though that Harry get a few shut-eye first before they Portkeyed back to England. Upon arriving in London though early in the morning, they immediately went their separate ways - Ron went directly to the Burrow to give Ginny the Menat necklace while Harry headed to the Ministry to report in. No matter how much Harry wanted to be the one to give the necklace to Ginny (and even put it on her himself) he did not know how Ginny would react to his presence after leaving her in a lurch the last time they met. In her current condition, he didn’t want to risk upsetting her. He wanted to give the Menat necklace time for its protective magic to take effect on Ginny before he showed up at the Burrow. Duty dictated as well that he report first to the Ministry before he even went home.
He wasn’t even sure how Ginny accounted for his actions that day and he quailed inside should she guess at the truth. He had no right to expect anything, anything of her at all, given that he had not offered her anything in the first place either – nothing by word or by action had he shown her he loved her. He did not even know how he could possibly make up for his actions and thoughts that day. So, if there was any truth at all to what Ron had said, that if, by some miracle, Ginny still held a torch for him, then Harry resolved to spend the rest of his life trying to make up for what he did to Ginny. He still beat himself up at the thought that all those times he could have lost her and for what? For some irrational, baseless jealousy that could never be justified and was completely unforgiveable.
So it was a highly preoccupied Harry Potter who walked the Ministry Atrium on his way to Kingsley’s office, completely oblivious of the frank stares he was getting from the other wizards and witches in the hall though he remembered his manners enough to acknowledge some who called out to him, though it was very clear by his decided steps and long strides that he was in a hurry.
The moment Harry walked up towards Kingsley’s office at the first level, Amelia immediately stood up and hugged Harry, her eyes and face emotionally telling with something akin to relief. Harry smiled apologetically at her, letting her know that he was already aware of what Kingsley had been suffering through and promptly came home as soon as he’d heard. Without even bothering to consult Kingsley, she conducted Harry into the Minister’s office, only knocking softly to announce Harry’s arrival.
Kingsley, contrary to Ron’s words, no longer had a bulbous nose pockmarked with humongous pores. Instead, Kingsley, who sat poring over some parchments and with a piece of white cloth draped over his shoulders, now had large bat ears with copious yellowish discharges oozing out from each ear and which the house-elf standing beside him was dutifully Vanishing as they fell.
Harry winced at Kingsley as the latter looked up and before taking but a few steps from the door, Harry waved a hand and the ears reverted back to normal size, and the wax and the cloths disappeared, restoring Kingsley’s appearance back to his old self. The house-elf looked up to Harry gratefully. Kingsley then turned to the house-elf, thanked him and said kindly, “Thank you, Mobly, that will be all.” The house-elf, understanding he was being dismissed, bowed, murmured words Harry could not hear and then Disapparated.
“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted as he sat down in front of Kingsley’s desk.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Kingsley replied, his voice and demeanor not showing any sign that he felt to the contrary. In fact, Kingsley was acting as if he was unperturbed by the whole ordeal.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Harry insisted then turned an accusing glare back at the Minister. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“About what?”
“About everything.”
“I didn’t want you to come home on my account. And as to what happened to Ms. Weasley, it was not something I feel I had a right to divulge to you or anyone. Even now, not very many in the wizarding world know of her condition.”
“I would have come home.”
“I know you would. And that was what I was afraid of. I’ve seen your face that day, Harry. I will never be the one to tell you to come home if you’re not ready to.”
“I would never have left if I knew what had happened.”
Kingsley shrugged. “Harry, only you know what buttons would push you. Lately, I have gotten the impression that you have so many secrets that you’ve been hiding that you’ve almost become as bad as Dumbledore.”
Harry did not reply.
“For how long are you staying?” Kingsley said after a while.
“I’ll never leave again. Not unless I have to, for a job,” Harry added.
“Are you sure?” And when Harry simply nodded, Kingsley heaved a deep sigh of relief.
But then Harry wrinkled his brows, carefully looking at Kingsley. He thought he saw something flash in Kingsley’s body. He narrowed his eyes, focusing his sight and then, numerous, small, slender shafts of amber-colored light started to appear all over the Minister’s body. Though quite a few were situated in Kingsley’s upper body, it looked like more were placed in Kingsley’s lower extremities. Harry could only compare the lights to penne pasta except they appeared to be quite translucent.
“What is it Harry?” Kingsley asked but Harry only shook his head.
Harry then took out his wand and waved it, concentrating on one tubular light just underneath Kingsley’s right flank. He drew the amber light as he would draw a memory, with one end of the penne light clinging stickily on to Harry’s wand until finally it left Kingsley’s body.
“Is that what I think it is?” Kingsley said.
“I think so. They’re rather numerous.”
“The hexes?”
“Yes.”
Kingsley whistled.
Then Harry brought the trail of now visible amber light closer to his face but could neither see nor feel any distinguishing magic. Then he waved his wand with the yellowish light still sticking to it over his left hand and immediately, the skin on the back of his hand twisted into painful, corded lumps. Harry studied his skin carefully, feeling for any dark magic; finding none, he shook his hand and immediately his skin returned back to its former smooth, unblemished appearance.
“That was a bit painful. I would have hated for you to suffer through that,” Harry said.
“I don’t even know how you could have possibly spotted it when Healers and Unspeakables could not even find anything.”
Harry did not reply but remembered the priest waving his crosier before him and the warm sensation in his eyes he now only realized he felt at that time - so angry was he that he did not even notice it. Was this then the gift?
“Would you please stand up?” Harry said instead and Kingsley complied.
Harry himself stood up and walked around the desk to carefully look at Kingsley. He counted no less than twenty-eight such penne hexes, one even embedded in the Minister’s right calf. With his wand, Harry removed the hexes one by one, which took quite a long time as the hexes seemed to refuse to leave Kingsley’s body, the lights stubbornly sticky.
When finally the last of the hexes had been removed, Kingsley gratefully hugged Harry, formally welcoming him back and good-naturedly ignoring another of Harry’s apologies. Then they both sat back down to their respective chairs and Harry wasted no time broaching the topics he was quite anxious to discuss. It did not take Kingsley by surprise that Harry already knew most of the facts of the Harpies’ case; in fact, he expected nothing less. He was only surprised that Harry had learned of it a few hours before though he made no mention of it, not wanting the reason for Harry’s leaving to cloud their discussion.
“What I don’t understand was the fact that the Wigtown Wanderers used the potion and nothing happened back then. There was no issue, no case.”
“But that was voluntary and the potion distributed was in limited amounts.”
“Still, the MLE Department should have made background investigations. For one thing, they should have checked who supplied the potions in the Wanderers’ party. Perhaps there is some connection.”
“They tried. But in the case of the Wanderers’ party, no crime was committed. No one came forward to file any complaints. And they couldn’t be forced to divulge information unless they willingly offer it.”
Harry drew a sigh, the muscles in his face contorting from sheer annoyance. Finally he stared Kingsley straight in the eye.
“You know I’ve never asked you for a favor…” Harry began but Kingsley cut him off.
“I know what you’re going to ask, Harry. You don’t have to say it. Knew it the moment you entered the room,” Kingsley said. “And I would have said ‘it’s about time’ except my only concern is if you can keep your objectivity. A Weasley is involved after all, especially one who is dearest to Molly. That’s why I let the case lie with the MLE Department for a while. I didn’t think your good friend Ron would be able to keep his nose out of the investigation and you’re the only one who can keep him in line. I don’t have to tell you that I am only too aware that he and his brothers have already made informal investigations about the case on their own.”
Harry did not answer. Truth to be told, he wasn’t sure if he could give any assurances at all to Kingsley. But the elder Auror patiently waited.
After a while Harry spoke.
“I want this, Kingsley.” Harry quietly said.
Kingsley sighed audibly.
“Of course you do. And I won’t fight you on this one. I trust you, Harry. And frankly, I don’t think there’s anyone who can tackle this case better than you. Please be careful, though. Take care that your personal feelings about the case do not cloud your judgment.”
“It won’t. I hope,” Harry added honestly.
“Weasley, on the other hand, cannot join you on this one, Harry. If he makes a mistake, if a suspect is found, the case could be bungled up on a mere technicality. And I don’t want that to happen.”
“I think Ron knows that. Otherwise he would have insisted right from the start to work on the case.”
Kingsley nodded.
“And the Rosier case?”
“It’s still pending.”
“I assume the case is still mine?”
“Nobody wanted to touch it after you left. Who knows what nasty surprises Galina has left? Just don’t overdo it Harry. The Galina case is no longer a priority. I don’t want you overworking yourself so soon after you’ve just returned to the country.”
After the meeting was over Harry went directly home to Grimmauld Place where Hermione promptly tried to strangle him as she sobbed into the crook of his neck. Even Kreacher kept wiping the dirt off Harry’s rubber shoes and holding on tightly to his jeans as he assured them that he was staying for good. After that, Hermione left and Flooed to the Burrow for the family dinner (which now occurred almost every night ever since the day after the Harpies’ party). Harry promised that he would follow soon after taking care of some things first.
Harry showered and dressed first and then sent Kreacher over to the Tonks’s home to bring Teddy and Andromeda some souvenirs and gifts he had bought especially for them from the countries he had recently visited. They’re mostly toys for Teddy who demanded the gifts as his rightful due.
He had purposefully dallied; he was trying to give Ginny time to adjust to the idea that he was coming over, giving her the opportunity to leave the Burrow if she didn’t want to see him. He knew as a pregnant woman, Ginny couldn’t Apparate or Portkey out of the Burrow, and even taking the Floo was not advisable, especially in Ginny’s case. So Harry was giving her ample time to leave. Honestly, he was deathly afraid of how his presence might affect Ginny. So he wanted to make sure that the magic of the necklace had already taken hold before he showed his face to her. He didn’t know how she felt about him now after his boorish behavior to her last time.
But at the same time, he was quite anxious to see her, to make sure that she was alright. And so with one last deep sigh he finally steeled himself and Apparated to the Burrow, doing it right from inside his own room.
When he arrived at the Apparation point at the Burrow, he was immediately greeted by warm laughter coming from inside the house. Despite his anxiety, Harry smiled. There was assurance in that laughter, and he realized how much he missed the person behind each laugh which he could easily identify. As usual, he walked round the yard towards the backdoor of the Burrow. He had seldom arrived at the beloved house and came in by way of the front door. He would only do so when he was with a colleague and needed to observe the formalities. Also, Ginny’s bedroom window was facing the backyard and Harry savored the opportunity to look up to her room if only to see if she was home. And he did, and saw the light was on.
Harry barely stood a second behind the back screen door when Mrs. Weasley screamed. “Harry!”
Then suddenly the door was pushed open, Harry having to step back to allow space for the door opening, and he was immediately pulled inside by the strong arms of Mrs. Weasley.
“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley said, hugging Harry round his waist. He was a good head (and then some) taller than she was now and Harry had to lean over to reciprocate her hug just as warmly.
“I’m sorry for leaving in such a hurry the last time that I wasn’t able to say goodbye.”
“It’s okay! The important thing is you’re back now.” Mrs. Weasley said. She pulled back and looked up at him, studying him. “You’ve grown thin,” she said but Harry merely smiled.
Harry looked around. Only the Weasley WAGS* (as they had been dubbed in the papers) were there: Fleur, Audrey and Hermione, who sat on the table smiling serenely at him. Angie, he had to assume, was with little Freddie who was liable to get involved in some kind of mischief if you leave him alone long enough. Ginny must be upstairs in her room.
When he had made the rounds of greeting the other women, Harry asked, “Where’s Ginny?” thankful to have a legitimate reason to ask.
“Oh, she’s in her room.”
“Oh.” Harry said.
Harry tried to hide his disappointment. He wanted to ask more, but he sensed that Mrs. Weasley and the others were hesitant about talking about Ginny. So he kept his mouth shut. Looked like it would be a long uphill climb back to her graces, then, he thought. Then the kitchen door opened and the men came filing in from the living room. They must have heard his voice and came to greet him. There was much hugging and back-slapping around, even George, who forgot his resentment, and embraced Harry as he would a long-lost brother.
Everyone seemed to be in a happy, light-hearted mood with no sign of the problem that worried the family in the last three months. Thereafter, while the women worked on preparing supper in the kitchen the men monopolized Harry’s time in the sitting room, demanding that Harry tell them some of his exploits in the last three months. From time to time, a Weasley grandchild would stray into the room and kiss Harry, or sit on his lap, but eventually would get bored with the lack of activity and leave the room once again. Nobody asked why Harry left in the first place nor was there any mention of Ginny or her situation. Everyone, it seemed, was determined to sweep the unpleasant events of the recent past under a rug. And Harry couldn’t blame them; they had precious few reasons to laugh in the last three months.
An hour after he arrived, Harry stood up and turned to Mr. Weasley.
“Uhm, Mr. Weasley, is it okay if I plant a tree in your back garden? It’s just I was given a seed as a gift when I was abroad.”
“Sure. What kind of tree is it?” Mr. Weasley said placidly.
“An oak.”
“Harry, don’t tell me you’re turning into a gardener now? What are you, Neville?” George quipped. Harry only grinned at George but in a way that clearly said “Up yours!”
Nevertheless, when Harry went out to the back garden, George, Ron and Hermione joined him and made suggestions as Harry pretended to hunt for the “best” spot to plant the tree in. The truth was, Harry had already chosen the right spot months before when he was first given the seed. It was directly in the line of sight of Ginny’s room.
Harry worked in the dark. There was just enough light from the windows and the open kitchen door of the Burrow and reflected light in the crisp September night sky for him to work. Here and there, a few stars broke through the haze so that stars twinkled over their heads.
He worked quickly, too, digging up a hole in the earth deep enough for the acorn, and then covering it up with earth once again. Finally, he stood up and walked a few paces back to join his friends but scarcely had he moved when delicate tendrils began to break the earth, shooting up into the air as if the plant was in a hurry to grow.
The others seemed to be taken aback since Harry had not mentioned that the seed was at all magical. It was like looking at one of those time motion videos of plant growth Harry used to see on the telly, except they were watching it in real time. Then George, once again in all his wisdom, put in his two cents’ worth:
“My! My! Harry!” George said, “If that’s any indication of how fast you rise into action, no wonder the ladies are all lining up to have a piece of you!” He turned to Harry. “Oh Harry,” he said in a high-pitched, breathless voice, the back of one hand against his forehead, the other fanning himself, “how quickly and mightily you sprung!”
Hermione, regaining her lost modesty of their Hogwarts days, reddened and turned to walk back up to the house. She simply could not tolerate suggestive images of a sexual Harry. Ron, meanwhile, reached out a long arm across Harry’s back and whacked George upside the back of his head.
“Oi! I’m a married man now!” George cried indignantly. “You hurt me, and the wife will come after you!”
Thus, laughing and joking, the three walked back to the house, with Harry draping an arm over George’s shoulder. When they came back to the house, the table had been laid with the evening’s meal and almost everyone was already seated at the table and Harry took his usual seat beside Ron. But nobody made a move to start eating. Everyone was waiting for Ginny, who was still nowhere to be found, and Mrs. Weasley, who apparently had gone upstairs to fetch her. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley came through the connecting door from the inner rooms, sans her daughter.
“I’m sorry. Ginny won’t be coming down to join us. We’ll just have to go ahead and eat without her,” she said, refusing to look at Harry.
“Is she all right?” Harry asked.
“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Weasley, busying herself with a dish, “She just isn’t feeling well enough,” she added, still not looking at Harry. But a close look at Mrs. Weasley’s face told Harry that it wasn’t entirely the truth. If Ginny really hadn’t been feeling well, then Mrs. Weasley would surely be in a panic. Instead, her face was a mask of composure.
“Isn’t she hungry? Shouldn’t she eat?” Harry persisted.
“I’ve already left some food upstairs,” she said.
“What about – - Shouldn’t anyone make sure she’s alright?” Harry said, determined to make sure that Ginny was well taken care of.
“Victoire’s with Ginny,” Bill interjected mildly. “She’s appointed herself as Ginny’s personal bodyguard. She’d scream if Ginny so much as needed an extra glass of water.”
“Oi, that kid of yours really could scream,” said Ron, waving the soup ladle in front of him as he was about to scoop some for himself.
“Yeah, that midget’s a terror,” George quipped. “Just the other day I was just hugging Ginny goodbye and she said to me, “’Don’t jiggle Tante Ginny!’ She’s almost as bad as her mother,” he added, with a sly look at Fleur’s direction. Mr. Weasley and the rest chuckled into their soup.
“Victoire loves ‘er aunt, what can I do?” said Fleur, serenely, as she placed large portions of chopped raw liver on Bill’s plate.
She’s not the only one, Harry said to himself. All round the table there was an air of quiet contentment when all the while Harry’s mind was on Ginny upstairs, wondering what she was doing and thinking now.
~o~
Ginny stewed in her bedroom, brushing her hair furiously as she sat in front of her dresser. Vaguely she thought that if she didn’t stop, she’d be bald by midnight. But she didn’t care. Her thoughts were thoroughly consumed by the new arrival who, judging by the happy and excited voices of her family drifting from the floors below, could only be Harry.
She was downstairs when Ron arrived with the Menat necklace. She kept silent when he tried to explain to her what the necklace was all about, how it could help her. Ha! As if she didn’t already know! But it was his news that Harry came home with him as well that glued Ginny’s tongue to the roof of her mouth. She was so taken aback that she forgot she was angry with Ron and Hermione, and when Hermione arrived after lunch, Ginny allowed Hermione’s tentative kiss on her cheek. What Hermione thought of her behavior, Ginny didn’t care. It was not as if Ginny’s feelings for Harry was any secret in the family.
Then, as one by one the other members of her family arrived, an air of expectant excitement seemed to rise in the Burrow, something they all hadn’t felt for quite a long time. Everyone started joking and laughing and generally being happy.
But as the day wound to its end and her mum started preparing dinner and still no Harry had arrived, Ginny became increasingly annoyed. She didn’t care that Ron had already mentioned soon as he arrived that Harry would be delayed because he still had to drop by at the Ministry and report to Kingsley. Didn’t Harry even care that she could have died at any time in the last three months? Why was he not hurrying to her side? And so, Ginny marched up to her room, her emotions as red as her hair.
Why is he coming now? Ginny wondered, smoke coming out of her ears. In the past, Harry seldom attended the Sunday family dinner. And now barely a day after arriving in the country, he was here? What did it mean? Did he come to gloat? No, Harry would never do that. He was too much of a gentleman. But it was too much for her to hope that he came on her account.
Once again, the enigma Harry Potter troubled her mind. Did he not really know how his presence affected her? Was Harry really not aware of her feelings for him? Ginny rather thought everyone in her family did.
"Oooh, yes. Harry would know that from the parade of boyfriends you've been having since your fourth year," a bitchy voice yakked in her head. "Oh, shut up! Ginny cried back, I only did it to protect myself from seeing Harry with other girls. First Cho Chang, and then, after the war, Cho Chang. Again! And just when she vowed to have Harry at all cost.
It was pathetic, crude and unsophisticated, the way she tried to entice Harry that time. It was the day Ron and Hermione left for Australia. She'd heard her mum asking Harry for his dirty clothes.** So, Ginny waited in her room, wearing a mini-skirt - the only one she owned at that time - and pretended to do her toenails, propping a foot against her dresser chair. She kept her door half-open, and when Harry passed by she greeted him with all the love she felt for him. And what did the Dumb Hero of Britain do? Twat didn't do anything but politely smile back at her. The rest of that day, Harry avoided her like the dragon pox. He even refused to look at her. Worse, mum must have sensed what she, Ginny, had been up to and kept her precious, virgin, sixteen-year old daughter to her side all throughout that day. The next day, Harry hightailed it off to Grimmauld Place and the next time Ginny saw him, it was in the papers in September, when she and Hermione were already back in Hogwarts, with no less than that hosepipe Cho Chang! The two of them, cozily sitting together, sharing a meal at the Ministry canteen. She deserves the cheapness, Ginny remembered thinking savagely at that time. Ginny was so broken-hearted that she went out with a Ravenclaw classmate of hers, one who'd been hanging at her elbow since fifth year.
She placed the brush down and looked at her reflection, noticing the Menat necklace that now adorned her neck. Only the turquoise string could be seen, the golden plate hidden under the Sabrina collar, but she knew Bill would recognize it instantly for what it was the moment he saw it, but Ginny was not worried. Encumbrance or not, Bill could never be forced to notify Gringotts and give up the only thing that would save his sister’s life.
She caressed the necklace, part of her wishing that Harry was the one who had put the necklace on her, instead of mum. Yet another part of her was still angry at him for the way he left her the last time he came to the Burrow. Up till now, she still hadn’t told anyone that she had seen Harry that day. It was too personal, too painful a memory.
She sighed. She was so happy then, just being in the room with him. He was the only one who could ever do that to her, be comforted by his mere presence alone. A couple of days after the Battle, Hermione discovered that Harry simply didn’t have the clothes to wear for the numerous funerals that they had to attend in the days following. In fact, Harry was so lacking in the basic necessities that Hermione decided to shop for him - the money coming from Harry’s own Gringotts account that Bill volunteered to convert to Muggle money. Soon as Ginny learned of the plan, she asked her mum if she could come along. At that time, her mum absolutely refused to let Ginny out of her sight. But Ginny pled with such quiet dignity and desperate need that her mum finally relented, but not without Bill and Charlie in tow. At the Muggle store, however, Hermione let Ginny shop for all of Harry’s personal needs, letting her choose which items to buy, even his boxer shorts and briefs, Hermione standing a few feet away from Ginny and only coming forward if Ginny needed help, like which size to choose, for example. Ginny didn’t care how pathetic she acted that day. It was a simple act and yet it was the only thing that could have numbed the pain of losing Fred, Tonks, Remus, and all the other friends and acquaintances she knew who had lost their lives in the Battle. Her love for Harry simply surpassed all things.
And now this thing that happened to her. She looked down her belly. At three months, she was still not showing. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about the baby growing inside her. Her freedom to decide on the matter had been completely taken away from her. The freedom when to give herself fully to a man. The freedom to decide whether to keep the baby or not. She simply had no choice.
How could she prove to Harry now that it had always been him? That she had been saving herself for him? She had no proof. None at all. Sure she’d had a procession of boyfriends, but none of them could even get to second base. Just as Harry, so far as she knew, had not given his heart to anybody, she had not given her body to any man. At least not knowingly.
Compared to some of her friends, she knew hers was an old-fashioned attitude. But she grew up old-fashioned. Or perhaps it was her mum who made sure that she did. After all, Ginny was the only girl to be born after a long line of Weasley sons. But she had been loving Harry for so long, there was simply no other man for her. That choice too had been taken from her.
She didn’t know how she was going to react when they finally see each other. And she certainly didn’t want an audience should her heart break if she saw nothing but care and concern on Harry’s face, as he would show for a family friend. After everything she had gone through the last couple of months, she simply could not handle any more disappointments and heartaches.
And now he was finally here, back again in the country. A part of her was happy, anxious, to see him once again, her heart leaping at the news Ron had brought with him. But there was also a part of her that wanted nothing more than to wallop him for the way he left her the last time they saw each other. How was he ever going to explain that, she wondered?
Still, a third part of her didn’t want to see him at all. Or if she were truthful to herself, she didn’t want to be seen by him. She looked at her reflection again in the mirror. Her right eye still looked ugly from the hematoma she suffered several days ago. It was yellowish and ugly. She so desperately wanted to look her best when she and Harry met again. That was not gonna happen now. Despite the French Muggle dress Bill and Fleur had given her on her last birthday that she now thought to wear, the fact of the matter was, she just looked butt-ugly with that super black- eye on her face.
She tried covering her face up with powder but the bruise remained unmistakable, next thing she knew she looked like some medieval painting with her face caked up with powder. She looked like a geisha! Oh this is hopeless! Ginny threw the face make-up away and scowled at her own reflection in the mirror. Not only was she meeting Harry for the first time in three months, but she was going to meet him looking like battered fruit. Even if she wanted to see him, just to see his face - which Ginny swore to herself was not the case, not at all - she didn’t want him to see her in such a state!
And so when Audrey came up to tell her Harry was here, Ginny said that she wouldn’t be joining dinner. A procession of her family thereafter came to her room - except for Ron and George who apparently were with Harry - trying to convince her to come down. If any of them had noticed how Ginny was dressed (she usually wore casual clothes to the family dinner and over the last three months, frequently a frumpy, loose-fitting housedress) they never said anything about it.
Finally, Bill came up and sat beside Ginny who was now sitting on the bed, pretending to read a book. He draped an arm over her shoulder, as they sat with their backs to the headboard. He said nothing at first as Ginny leaned her head on his shoulder. She suddenly felt very tired. Outside, they could hear voices and laughter coming from the back garden below and both knew to whom each belonged.
Finally, Bill spoke into the silence.
“He came as soon as he’d heard, you know,” he said quietly.
“Maybe he came for Kingsley.”
“Perhaps,” Bill said. “But he’s here now.”
Ginny did not answer.
Bill then turned sideways to face Ginny. He lifted her chin up and watched her face, his beautiful little sister, with a massive bruise in her right eye. He noticed that there had been fresh bleeding into the whites of her eyes but his face did not betray the grief he felt upon seeing it. Instead, Bill gently wiped the area around her eyes as if he wanted to magic the bruise away though she knew that he was just as afraid as the rest of her family to cause any more harm. They did not speak words, there was no need to. Ginny knew that Bill would guess at exactly what she was feeling, just how petty her reason was for not coming down to dinner, but she also knew that he wouldn’t say a word. In the end, he brushed her hair back and lightly kissed her on the forehead. Then he stood up. He turned around the room, making sure Ginny had everything she needed and Ginny was comfortable.
“Mum will be by soon.” He said it as a gentle warning. Then he leaned over and brushed his lips over Ginny’s hair and left the room.
A moment later, her mum came up and tried to convince her anew to come down. But Ginny was decided. Her mum sighed and looked sadly at Ginny, wishing she had it in her power to give everything her daughter needed, including Harry’s love. In the end, she waved her wand, and food appeared on Ginny’s desk. She kissed Ginny lovingly on the head as Bill and the others had done and left the room as well. Almost immediately, Victoire peeked her head in, her hair as silvery blond as Fleur’s, and waddled to Ginny’s side by the bed. She climbed up and sat beside Ginny, and pretended to also read the book in Ginny’s hand, though she hardly knew her ABC’s. And, whenever they spent the night in the same house together, Ginny knew Victoire would stay with her for the rest of the night.
A/N:
*WAGS – wives and girlfriends
Next: Major H/G moment coming up
No comments:
Post a Comment