Harry Potter and the Necklace of Menat
Chapter 10
Sunday afternoon and Harry was home taking a shower. He had just dropped Teddy off at Andromeda’s after having spent the entire morning with Teddy at a Muggle park as he had promised his godson when he first returned back to England. Then Harry rushed back to Grimmauld to get ready for his visit to the Burrow. Molly had already invited the Tonks over earlier that Friday but Andromeda felt that it was still too early for the Burrow to be entertaining guests. Harry was family to the Weasleys, though.
Harry bent his head down and leaned forward, his palms splayed against the tiles in front of him. He let the water run down his hair and his body as he catalogued, organized his thoughts. The Weasley brothers were sure to ask him questions about the case. Though Ron he could hold at bay (besides, his bestmate knew well enough not to ask), Harry wasn’t sure he could hold off the others as easily. Admittedly, there was very little he could tell them even if he wanted to. Still, it was best to be prepared.
He mentally went over the long list of things he still had to do regarding the case. Some should have been attended to by the MLES department immediately after the incident. But they only made surface investigations in the beginning, then altogether stopped pursuing leads any further. Not only Kingsley, but somewhere in the MLE pipeline, someone or several had decided that this was a Harry Potter case and let the case lie idle waiting for his return to England.
And now Harry had to play catch-up.
Harry stood straight, running a hand through his wet hair and turned off the water, and then set aside the thought of everything related to the case. He glanced through the glass partition of the shower stall at his watch lying on the bathroom counter and saw it was fifteen past three. Ron and Hermione had already gone ahead earlier that day to meet Charlie who had arrived that morning to celebrate Ginny’s return to good health.
Obviously, he was running late. But this would be the first time he would be meeting Ginny after their interview last Thursday. He had no idea what kind of reception he would receive from her. He felt the stirrings of apprehension begin to gurgle in his gut. How was it possible that he could face the Darkest Wizard of all time and his courage not waver, but the prospect of facing this woman - a tiny slip of a woman at that - could terrify him?
Harry drew a deep sigh, stepped out of the shower and got dressed. Once again, he Apparated right from inside his room to the Apparation point by the Burrow’s front yard. The moment he stepped into the ward he was immediately greeted with childish giggles and laughter, his heart warming with the reassuring sound of life.
He walked around the property and stopped just at the corner of the house that gave him a view into the backyard. He stood there for a few moments, watching the scene. Harry felt the toasty warmth in the air and smiled. Dragon’s breath fire. Charlie must have brought some with him. The tables had already been set in the garden. Most of the Weasley women were huddled together on one side, poring over an array of magazines and newspapers laid on the table. Mr. Weasley and Percy sat on one end of the table, while Charlie, Bill, Ron and George stood grouped together a few paces nearby.
But Harry’s eyes did not cease its searching sweep until he found Ginny who was standing in front of the Centaurs’ tree. A wrought iron chair with seat cushions stood just beside her. At the table, Victoire was looking morosely at her aunt, her arms crossed. Wonder what that was about, Harry thought.
“Harry!”
An avalanche of Weasley children, led by Freddie, came barreling towards him. As the first ones hit him, Harry, laughing heartily, stumbled back and had to catch his footing. Then the flood of babble started.
“Piggyback ride!”
“Hawwy, do you have candy?”
“Harry, Freddie pushed me earlier. Will you turn him into a frog?”
“I did not!”
“You did, too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
Harry, meanwhile, felt Ginny’s eyes on him. He turned his head and saw her trying hard to keep herself from laughing. Feeling great relief, Harry grinned back, and shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
Just then, Mrs. Weasley emerged from the back door of the Burrow, carefully conducting with her wand a covered serving dish hovering in the air in front of her. George’s house-elf tottered at her heels, hands outstretched, as if afraid that the dish would spill over. Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Weasley looked up from the dish saw Harry’s dilemma.
“Children, leave Harry alone!” she shouted and then gave Harry a rueful smile which Harry returned with a good-natured one back.
“Hi, Harry.” Angelina had come forward to collect her son, scooping Freddie round the waist and pulling the boy from Harry. “Sorry,” she said.
“Hi, Harry.”
Audrey and Bill, too, had come forward to claim their respective kids.
“Sorry, Harry,” Bill said as he picked up Dominique and carried her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“It was nothing.” Harry said; their exchange of smiles was indulgent.
“Harry!” Charlie was waving him over to where he and the others stood by the table. Harry waved back a hand in greeting and walked with Bill back to towards the table. Harry walked slightly behind Bill as he made faces at Dominique who giggled at his antics. When they were near enough the table Bill promptly put down Dominique who, the moment her feet touched the ground, sped off like a rocket to go and play with her cousins.
“Harry,” said Mr. Weasley when he was near enough.
“Dad,” said Harry smiling. Charlie raised an eyebrow at him but Harry merely shrugged his shoulders. He stole a glance back towards Ginny but she had already turned her head back to the tree.
“Harry, why didn’t you tell me you were in Serbia? I would have flown over,” Charlie said.
“Sorry. But the visit was supposed to be a secret?” said Harry, inflecting his voice up only on the last word.
“It was. But after you left, you know, it’s like the floodgates have been opened,” and he gestured towards the papers the women seated on the other side of the table were poring over. Harry could just see a part of the headline, but he could easily recognize his name. Hermione looked up and threw a smirk at him.
“Have you seen this?” George’s eyes were glued on a page of a witches’ magazine of his own, with pictures of Harry and his female Auror interpreter taken at the Serbian Ministry.
“Wow, Harry, I didn’t know you’ve been keeping with such wonderful company while you were away saving the rest of the world. That, is one hell of a woman,” George said. The words were teasing, but the tone they were delivered in felt accusatory. Harry scrutinized George, but the latter kept his face down.
“You know, she’s quite well known in those parts - for her beauty, and the fact that she kicks serious ass. But she’s more beautiful in person, isn’t she, Harry?” he added, gesturing at the magazine with his butterbeer. “But you know,” Charlie said, with an observant eye on Harry’s reaction, “she’s got a bit of reputation for being a bit standoffish. I’ve tried to chat her up once, when one of our dragons strayed into Serbia. That’s when I met her; she was helping in the operations - “
“But she’s taller than you!” Ron gaped and almost sloshed Harry with the contents of his butterbeer with a careless wave of his bottle.
“So?” Charlie reacted challengingly. “What I lack in height, I make up for in other ways,” he said, meaningfully raising his eyebrows at Harry. Bill made a face.
“For sure, for sure,” George added, still flipping the pages over. He was only a couple of inches taller than Charlie.
“She doesn’t date just anybody, you know,” Charlie continued, addressing Harry. “But I know she fancies you.”
“What witch doesn’t?” George quipped, folding the magazine and tucking it under his arm. Charlie ignored him.
“It’s common knowledge in those parts. She once was asked in an interview if she thinks there’s any man good enough for her and her answer was: ‘Harry Potter?’ She made it sound as if she was joking, but I don’t think she was.” Charlie gave Harry a probing look which Harry pretended not to notice. He was starting to get seriously annoyed. Had Ginny read the magazines? Surely she could see from the pictures that he was keeping a professional distance from the Serbian Auror. Still, how much of their conversation was being carried over to her? Harry glanced back at Ginny. If she heard any of it, she wasn’t giving any sign. What would she make of all of these, after their meeting, after his letter?
Charlie’s voice once again intruded upon his thoughts.
“You know, you visiting their country was quite a big deal for them. And I’m not just talking about the Drekavac. It was not an accident that they assigned her as your interpreter. But curious that after your visit, she quashes all rumors that there was anything going on between you. Made an official statement, in fact. That you were there to help the Serbian people with a very difficult problem, and have succeeded, etc. I was curious at the sudden turnaround. Seems to me she wouldn’t have said anything if nothing happened. Wanted to hear the full story straight from you.”
“Wait a minute,” George piped up, placing a hand against Harry’s chest. “Harry, don’t tell me you turned this woman down? Are you daft?” Then George gave him a calculating look, eyeing Harry up and down. “Or maybe the rumors about you are true. You aren’t gay, Harry, are you?”
Now it was Bill’s turn to whack George across the back of his head. “Don’t be stupid. Harry’s not gay,” Bill said as Ron, Harry, and Charlie laughed.
“What the hell?!” George said, rubbing his head. “Will you people stop hitting me on the head? I’m already missing an ear or haven’t you noticed?”
“Stop being an ass, then,” Bill said as Harry and the others continued laughing.
Then Charlie caught Harry’s eye and just like that the mood in the air changed. Ron and Harry exchanged brief glances.
“I think I’ll get another bottle,” Ron said and ambled away.
“So, how’s Ginny’s case? Any news?” Charlie asked.
“A couple. I’m following several,” Harry answered cryptically. He couldn’t really tell the brothers much of anything. The Weasleys were a passionate lot. Harry didn’t know if he could hold any of them back if a suspect was found. Not sure that he would want to, either. In fact, he himself was barely holding his anger in. It was only years of experience that taught him to keep his own emotions in check whenever he was working on a case.
“Ron said that you’ve been trying to get a meeting with the Wigtown Wanderers?” George put in, clearly fishing for more information about the case.
“I think they’re afraid that they would be banned from playing next season,” Harry said. Word had been put out officially that the Holyhead Harpies had been disqualified from the games because of the poisoning and had not voluntarily forfeited the games because of the players’ conditions. “The Department had already sent feelers and a formal letter that we are not formally investigating them for their party last hols, but they’re not budging.”
“As if it would make any difference. They’re in the bottom league,” George snorted.
“Try telling them that,” said Harry. “Anyway, they’re up against the Cannons, first game next season. And that’s a certain win. They aren’t gonna pass the chance.”
“Can’t believe you said that,” George said, glancing at Ron who was now picking through Mrs. Weasley’s roasted pork belly. Brave of him, Harry thought, inwardly wincing, and cast a quick anxious glance towards the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley had gone back into.
“Can’t believe Ron’s been divulging inside information to outsiders,” said Harry, without any real heat to his voice. “He’s supposed to keep his nose out of the case.”
But Bill had been watching Harry closely. Harry spoke so matter-of-factly that it caught his attention. “But you’ve found a way to get to them,” he stated.
“You know, you aren’t really allowed to ask,” Harry said, addressing the three.
“Eh,” George shrugged.
But Harry was already through with the topic. His eyes strayed once again towards Victoire, who was still staring mulishly at Ginny. And he seized at the chance to change the conversation.
“What’s up with Victoire?” he asked Bill.
“Don’t worry about her,’ said Bill, gazing fondly at his daughter who noticed, pouted at Bill, and turned her face away from her father, her nose up in the air. “She’s just upset that we’re not letting her anywhere near Ginny right now.’
“Why? What happened?”
“Nothing’s happened. It’s just Ginny’s a lot better now and she doesn’t need to be constantly monitored. So, Victoire’s a little upset that she doesn’t get to play guard duty to Ginny. But Ginny needs some breathing space,” said Bill, now nodding towards Ginny’s direction. “It can’t have been too easy on her with all of us constantly on her case, Mum’s hard enough. But Ginny’s never complained,” he added, with the same fond look he just gave his own daughter, “never said anything.”
Harry followed Bill’s gaze. “Is she alright?”
“She’s fine. She discovered something about the tree.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
“Can I go talk to her?”
Harry made a convenient exit then. He knew the moment Ginny felt him approach. She made a shudder of movement but she still kept her face forward.
“Hey, Gin.” Harry was about to say Aren’t you cold? but remembered the dragon fire, so he said instead, “Ehrm, what’s up?”
Ginny turned her face towards him, her face beaming. “It does something. Look.” Ginny then turned her head back towards the tree and lifted her hand. Immediately, one of the limbs bent down towards her and the tip of the branch gently brushed against her fingers. Then the branch moved further down towards her face and the leaves started caressing her cheeks.
“Oh. I’ve always wanted to do that,” Harry murmured.
Ginny turned her shining face towards him again. “It will only do that to me,” Ginny said.
“How did you find out it does that?” Harry stared, wonder-eyed, at the tree.
“I was walking earlier, and Freddie was running past me. I tried to move sideways to avoid being hit by him, and I lost my footing. I was about to fall and somehow the tree picked me up, very gently. Then it turned to Freddie and lifted him up by the ankle, over its top. He kept Freddie in the air and wouldn’t let go until I asked it to.”
“It’s a Guardian Tree,” Harry said, just now realizing. He remembered Dumbledore mentioning it in his Transfiguration book. “Like the Whomping Willow. But they’re extremely rare. And this one’s even rarer.”
“How?”
“Guardian Trees mostly protect a place, but rarely individuals. There is only one recorded event of a Guard Tree protecting a human, and that’s the Muggle king Charles II.”
“Oh, you mean the Royal Oak? It was magical then?”
“Yes. Although, of course, the Muggles don’t know it.”
Harry then walked up towards the tree, and looked at its body, where a bole sat staring out in front of him right in the middle of the trunk. He placed his hand inside the hole and started gently pushing inwards and against the sides of the hollow, as if massaging it.
Ginny walked up beside him. “What are you doing?” she said.
“Look,” Harry said, pointing at the large hole where the bole had been. “You can hide inside it when there’s danger. It will form a shell around you and no amount of magic or physical force can force it to remove you. They can burn the entire tree and still it won’t give up the person it’s guarding.” Harry started walking around the tree, picking his way over the roots which had grown long and entagled. “I wonder if it can also dig up a tunnel from here to a safe place like the Whomping Willow,” Harry murmured to himself, as he returned to Ginny’s side. “You do know that the Whomping Willow leads to the Shrieking Shack?” Harry asked her, unsure.
Ginny’s face reddened. “Ehrm, yes. I overheard Ron and Hermione talking about it years ago.”
Harry grinned, amused. “Let me guess, the Extendable Ears?”
“Where did you get it?” Ginny answered in reply and Harry laughed outright.
“The Greek Centaurs gave them to me,” he said, still smiling. Then he gazed down softly at her face and spoke earnestly. “They said to plant it where my heart truly lay.”
Ginny returned Harry’s gaze as calmly back as she could even though her heart was racing, even though she felt she was going to tip over with the emotion that suddenly overfilled her. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, and just stood there, staring at each other’s eyes.
Finally, Harry broke the silence, though it did not still the overwhelming feeling that seemed to hung in the air, wrapped around them.
“Ginny, did you read my letter?” he said quietly.
But Ginny only smiled up at him and turned her face back once again towards the tree, trying to buy herself time to calm down and opting instead for a non-sequitur as a reply. “Do you remember how George was after the Battle?” she said. “We‘ve all been very worried. But it was you who brought him back to us.” She turned her face back to Harry. “Do you remember? After his attack at Diagon Alley, you stayed at his flat. I was home then for Christmas. You weren’t there; you were still working hard at the Ministry. Then one night, during dinner, George spoke. He said, ‘We may have a problem. I think Harry’s in love with me.’ We all looked nervously at one another at first. But then we realized George was joking. It was his first joke after Fred died. ‘Harry’s in love with me.’”
“Ehrm. Actually, it's you I'm in love with.“ Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, unsure what Ginny was trying to say. But the times Ron and Hermione had had a tiff, Ron would complain to him later how Hermione had a tendency to say a lot of things during their fight, bringing up offenses he didn’t even remember making and all Ron could do was say sorry.
“You saved my life,” Ginny continued. ”You saved Dad’s. Ron’s. Mum’s. You gave us back George. He’ll never be the same,” she added with a sad smile, “but at least, he’s not a walking zombie anymore.” She stopped for a pause. “I’m used to amazing men in my life. My uncles, my dad, Bill, each and every one of my brothers. But even without all that - ” Ginny then turned her body to face Harry fully. “ - how can it not be you, Harry?”
Harry did not realize he had been holding his breath for so long. But suddenly he became very aware of his own ragged breathing, looking at Ginny, her face looking naked with an emotion Harry could well recognize as his own. But before he could say anything, Ginny spoke anxiously.
“Did you really mean that, Harry, about the baby?”
Harry, his eyes caressing Ginny’s face, replied. “Yes. I grew up with blood relatives, Ginny, and yet it’s from complete strangers that I learned about love – Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, your family.”
“And me.”
“Do you really Ginny?” Harry asked, searching Ginny’s face.
“Do you not know?”
“I hoped. I dreamt,” Harry answered truthfully.
But Ginny started biting her lip, her face clouding over. She turned her face away from Harry, looking far out in the distance. “You hurt me,” she said eventually.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Harry said, not hiding his heartfelt remorse at what he had done to Ginny.
But Ginny looked back up at Harry again. “And I hurt you, too.”
“I always loved you,” Harry said, voicing the only thing that was truly important.
“We won’t do it again,” Ginny said with determination.
But Harry was not done yet. “Ginny, I’m really sorry, for everything, for leaving you, for not being there when you needed me. Just the thought that I could have lost you at any time in the last three months – “ his voice trailed off, looking away pain clearly visible on his face. But then he looked down at Ginny, with an expression of pure resolve. “I’ll never leave you again. I promise. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make everything up to you. Promise. I do.”
“I promise to love you too, for the rest of my life,” Ginny said, teasingly misdirecting his words - he looked so serious. And if she didn’t cool it herself, she might start crying in front of her family.
“So, do I get to kiss you now?” Harry said, the urgency back in his voice.
“Now?” Ginny raised her eyebrows, glancing towards her family behind Harry’s back.
“We’re among family,” Harry said. He was done hiding his feelings for Ginny. It had been years. It was enough.
Ginny regarded him for a while, smiling at the intent look on his face. She would let him be a man. For now.
She lifted her arms and placed them upon his shoulders, Harry at once meeting the movement with his own arms wrapping round her waist and simultaneously pulling her closer. He leaned down and claimed her mouth.
A cry of alarm from Victoire immediately broke from the table, but was cut off just as quickly. Ginny vaguely perceived hearing Fleur talking to her daughter but more immediate was her awareness of Harry, the very sense of him - his kiss, his very male hold of her, an embrace she had been longing for since she was a young girl. Then an absolute veil of silence fell upon the garden, but the two were now completely lost in each other, loving each other, drinking each other, that they didn’t notice. For how long they reveled in the kiss, Harry and Ginny did not know, didn’t care. It had been years, and it seemed that not all the kissing they were doing right now could fill the loneliness and longing of all those years. It would simply never be enough….
Unfortunately, in the Burrow there would always be a burro.
“Oi, Potter! My sister needs nourishment but I don’t think your tongue down her throat counts as nourriture - OW!”
“George! There are children around!” Mrs. Weasley’s voice rang out.
“But I’m not the one – “
“You better not finish that sentence, George! You.Have.Better.Not!” Mrs. Weasley cut him off.
Harry wanted to, but Ginny beat him to flipping the bird at George behind his back.
“Ginevra!” Mrs. Weasley cried, sounding thoroughly scandalized, but the rest of the family tittered, and the two continued the kiss. Still, all too soon, it seemed to Harry, they broke apart. They weren’t alone after all. Harry reluctantly let go of Ginny who looked up at him, giddy with a happiness Harry could claim as his own. Suddenly he became very sheepish, realizing what his actions would seem like to the rest of the family. He had been successful in hiding his feelings for Ginny over the years. Not even Hermione, who knew him so well, clued in on that fact. It would look a lot as if he was taking advantage of Ginny. And, Mr. Weasley was there.
“It’s okay, no one looks angry,” Ginny said, taking a sneak at her family behind Harry’s back. Except for Bill, she didn’t add, who, though he didn’t look angry, didn’t seem too pleased, either.
“They love you Harry, as much as I do,” Ginny said, but then reconsidered. “Well, perhaps not as much.”
Harry took a deep breath. Fully conscious that press reports of his dates with Muggle women made him sound a lot like a lothario. But Ginny slipped her fingers in his hand and beamed up at him, reassuring him. Harry turned around and walked more calmly than he thought he would be back towards the table. He caught Ron’s eyes first, who cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly wondering what was going on. As far as Ron was concerned, Harry had never shown the slightest interest in his sister. And now Harry was all but molesting Ginny right before their very eyes. Harry avoided looking at Mr. Weasley, but he need not have worried. Mr. Weasley was smiling too like the rest of the family, except for Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to be about near tears and ready to run and meet them.
The family all seemed to settle and began to take their respective places at the table, though truthfully, they were all unsure of Harry’s actions. Ron made to take his accustomed seat, expecting Harry to follow him; they always sat together at meals on Mr. Weasley’s right side but Harry followed Ginny as she headed towards Mrs. Weasley’s end of the table. Bill stopped short as he saw Harry about to take his place on Ginny’s other side. He gave Harry a fleeting look, but Harry couldn’t fathom the expression on Bill’s face one way or the other.
Soon, they began to eat with Harry helping Ginny put food on her plate. Hermione and the brothers’ wives were exchanging amused glances, all thinking the same thing: Harry was acting exactly like a man would the first time he had sex with a woman he truly fancied or the first time he had been given a sexual treat favored by all men, bar none.*
At some point during dinner - Ginny wasn’t sure when - Harry’s thigh bumped into hers. Well, if he wasn’t going to move his legs she certainly wasn’t gonna move hers, and since then their legs had been touching. Ginny seemed to need very little her right hand for eating, as well. Harry had been helpfully feeding her, even from his own spoon.
Across the table, Ron was goggling, wondering what in the world Harry was doing. It was weird seeing Harry on the other side of the table, unmindful of the sidelong glances Bill kept giving him, unmindful of everyone at the table, in fact. Harry neither cared nor paid even a token attention to the talk surrounding him, his entire attention seemed to be focused on Ginny and Ginny alone.
It was just as Mrs. Weasley was serving treacle tart for desert when suddenly the alarms went off, signaling that someone was trying to breach the wards of the Burrow. Harry frowned and glanced back towards the Weasleys’ shed where the Ford was parked. It was still sitting quiet. He cast spells on it to detect if any of the Weasleys were in danger, even in mortal peril, as the old Ford and the family clock had done. Whatever had disturbed the wards, it wasn’t threatening. He glanced towards Ron, who had stood up at the first blare of the alarms, alert, but Harry remained seated near Ginny. Ron raised his eyebrows expectantly at Harry. But Harry only nodded his head at Ron, as if saying: Go ahead, you can take this one. Ron, obviously annoyed, then turned to Bill instead. But Bill glanced at Harry, who was still sitting calmly in his chair, though leaning closer to Ginny now, an arm placed casually on the back of her chair. Bill then turned to Charlie and said, “Charlie, go with Ron. It’s time you carry your weight around here,” he said pleasantly. Charlie didn’t seem to mind, though. Harry could tell, being the brother who was far away, Charlie was just itching to get back at someone, anyone, for what had happened to Ginny.
Fleur meanwhile half-rose from her seat, casting an anxious glance towards Harry, but Harry made a small shake of the head and she settled back in her seat.
Ron threw Harry one last disgruntled look when Charlie came abreast of him and the two headed towards the front to see what had triggered the alarms. Not Muggles nor animals, to be sure - the Burrow had been warded against them.
Nevertheless, Harry, with a quick squeeze on Ginny’s thigh, stood up and followed behind Ron’s footsteps. Bill stood up as well, walking quietly behind Harry. Harry stopped at the angle of the property where he had a clear view of both the front and the back part of the house. He watched Ron and Charlie walk up to the front gate, where the outline of a man tapping at the Invisible Shield that guarded the Burrow could be plainly seen; the intruder, however, would not be able to see anything or anyone inside the warded parts of the Burrow. Harry thought the man looked familiar, but couldn’t see clearly in the wan light.
Soon, Bill joined Harry. “Harry,” he said, speaking so quietly that only Harry could hear. “Ginny’s very fragile right now. And I’m not just talking about her health. I hope for her sake and for everybody else’s that what you’re doing is not something borne out of some misguided sense of duty or obligation to this family. She’s already been through enough.”
Harry looked at Bill then turned his face back towards where Ron was.
“I’ve been in love with Ginny since sixth year,” Harry said, his voice clipped with annoyance. ‘But I didn’t want her to suffer the same fate as Sirius did. Or be a target soon after the war. I only stayed away all these years because she seemed to never run out of boyfriends.”
“Since sixth year?” Bill spoke, frank surprise evident in his voice. “And here I thought you’re the world’s fastest draw.”
Harry did not reply. He did not particularly appreciate anybody questioning his feelings for Ginny. Anyone could doubt anything about him, but not that, never that.
Then Ron and Charlie reappeared with a young man tottering behind them carrying a bouquet of flowers so obscenely huge it looked like a funeral wreath. When they came nearer, Ron was clutching his wand tightly, looking ready to hex the intruder. As the man came nearer, Harry realized it was Philip, looking quite disheveled. He obviously encountered some of the nastier spells protecting the Burrow and he looked positively the worse for it.
They walked back towards the table, Philip looking nervously at the people around him. Not one gave him a welcoming smile. They were all resentful at the intrusion, and Harry suspected, that of the people present, only Mrs. Weasley and the children didn’t know about Philip’s cheating. Neither did Philip realize that Charlie, Ron, Bill, and Harry now stood in a semi-circle behind him while George, eyeing him pugnaciously, stood in front of him. Fleur, Angelina, and Audrey, however, had all gathered their children together and herded them back inside the house.
For a long while, everyone stood there silently, Philip increasingly nervous. Ginny looked uncertainly at Harry, who nodded reassuringly. He was waiting to see what the twat wanted.
Then Philip spotted Ginny, who was now standing with Mrs. Weasley beside her holding on to Ginny as if she would spirit her daughter away.
“Ginny!” Philip breathed a sigh of relief.
“What are you doing here, Philip?” Ginny demanded.
“Ehrm,” Philip hesitated, nervously eyeing the disapproving glances of the Weasleys. Then he seemed to remember the flowers in his hands and his face brightened up. “Ginny, these are for you,” Philip said, offering the bouquet of flowers towards Ginny, as if the gesture was enough to wipe away his offense.
“They’re all wilted,” George pointed out.
Philip looked down, bewildered, at the flowers. “I don’t understand. I just bought them.” He looked helplessly around, the flowers were fresh just minutes ago. He looked towards Ginny, but there was no help forthcoming from her side.
“What do you want?” George repeated Ginny’s question belligerently. He would be the most angry at Philip, because it was through him that the two met.
“I came – I came to talk to Ginny. Erhm, privately.”
“Whatever you have to say to Ginny, you can say it in front of us. We have no secrets in the family.” George said.
Philip watched George’s reproving stance, gulped, and then turned nervously back to Ginny. He had no recourse but to plead his case in front of her brothers.
“Look Ginny, I only just heard. I just arrived back in the country three days ago. I’m sorry - about the suspension, that is. I tried to talk to the Quidditch League, for them to reconsider their decision - ”
“So you think you’re the one who’s going to smooth everything over,” George cut him off. “Imagine that.”
Philip looked appropriately ashamed.
“What do you want, Philip? We have nothing to talk about,” Ginny said.
“Look, can we just talk?”
“What is there to talk about? We’re through.”
“Ginny, look! You’ve got to hear me out!”
“Hear what out?! Do you want to see the pictures again? I can get them for you and lay them all out on the table if you want,” said Ginny, her voice rising in anger.
Harry began to fidget at Ginny’s growing distress. What Bill said was true. When he first came back to the office, Harry couldn’t help himself and privately asked to see her medical files from her Healer - easy enough for him to do. And it was all there in the Healer’s medical assessment of Ginny: Stress was to be avoided at all cost, given her unstable condition – health- and magic-wise.
Bill, however, had seen Harry react to Ginny’s outburst, and spoke to head off Harry’s anger. He had been exchanging glances with his dad since Philip arrived, conducting a family debate in silence. “Philip, where were you at the night of the Harpies party?” he said.
“Uhm, I don’t remember,” Philip said distractedly at first.
Harry expected the answer. Philip after all had also taken a drink of the Potion X. What he didn’t expect was the look of guilt on Philip’s face that appeared soon after.
“What are you hiding?” Harry said sharply, the air of anger tightly wound about him like a viper about to strike.
“What? What?” Philip cried, taken aback at the uncharacterisitc look of anger on Harry’s face.
“What are you hiding?” Harry said, through gritted teeth.
“I’m not. I’m not hiding anything. Ginny!” Philip all but shrieked, shouting for help. But Harry moved to block his sight of Ginny. “What.Are.You.Hiding?”
“Harry, please.” It was Mr. Weasley who spoke.
Harry quieted down, to a small degree, yielding to Mr. Weasley’s authority as head of the family and the owner of the house.
“Philip, where did you go after you left the Harpies party?” Mr. Weasley spoke calmly but coldly.
“I don’t know. Home, I guess,” Philip said, a little too shiftily, Harry thought.
“And you don’t remember anything after that?”
“No.” Again, he reddened. Harry was desperate to read Philip’s mind, but the man was looking anywhere but him.
Ginny, though, realized what her dad was doing and she cried out in alarm. “Dad!”
“I’m sorry, Ginny, but we have got to know. We have to find out. If there’s a chance – if he’s - “
No! Harry had long ago entertained the possibility that Philip might be the father of Ginny’s baby, but now that he was confronted with the physical notion of it, he found that he simply couldn’t accept the idea.
“Dad, please…”
Mr. Weasley looked directly at Ginny, sadness and pity in his eyes. “Ginny, if it were only up to me, I wouldn’t have you anything to do with this man. But if there’s a chance, we need to find out. He’s got a right – “
“What? What? What are you talking about?” Philip cried, watching the exchange between Ginny and her dad.
Mr. Weasley’s normally kind face hardened as he turned back to Philip - and not just for the rude interruption. “Before I say anything, do you promise never to reveal to anyone what we’re about to discuss tonight?” he said, his voice stern.
“I - I promise,” Philip said uncertainly, feeling he didn’t really have much choice.
Obviously Mr. Weasley did not take his word it for he turned towards Harry. “Harry?” Harry understood, nodded stiffly, and made to move closer to Philip.
“What? What are you going to do?” Philip cried frantically again, stepping back away from Harry.
“Don’t worry. If you’re man enough, you can handle it,” said Harry blandly, but there was no mistaking the anger in his voice. But Harry found he had to take a few minutes to calm himself down before he could safely cast a spell. There was real danger of him turning Philip into a pile of turd. Philip didn’t see him do it. But one minute, Harry was standing there, and the next he had a wand in his hand. Then suddenly, without hearing Harry say a single spell, Philip felt a sensation, as if a wall of concrete was descending upon his head, almost like a physical burden, falling quite heavily, seeming to crush him, as the Compulsion Spell hit him.
“I promise. I promise,” Philip gasped. Only then did Harry release his mental hold on Philip who visibly let out a breath as he stood up shaking. He placed his wand back in his pockets to prevent himself from accidentally hexing Philip.
“Dad…” Ginny made one last plea, her voice becoming heartbreakingly small. Harry glanced towards her, wanting to reassure her but Ginny had her head hung low.
“Philip, Ginny’s team was not suspended from the league. The team voluntarily forfeited the game – “
“But why – “
“Someone - we don’t know who - spiked all the food and drinks at the afterparty. Potion X. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” said Mr. Weasley, a note of criticism in his voice. He looked Philip straight in the eye. “Ginny’s with child.”
For a whole minute, Philip only stared blankly at Mr. Weasley, as if unable to understand what Mr. Weasley had just said.
“What do you mean with child? How? With who?” Then Philip broke off, his eyes focusing far away as if he were seeing something anew. He looked at Ginny, his brows furrowing. Then his eyes grew round, as if seeing Ginny for the first time. “It’s mine,” he croaked. “The baby’s mine! I’m the father!”
“Come again?” George said. “How? If you say you don’t remember anything that night?”
But Philip was shaking his head. “No. No. I remember waking up the next day. I knew I slept with someone. I just couldn’t remember with whom. Or how. My townhouse is under a Fidelius charm - it has been for generations. I don’t remember coming home with anyone. And only Ginny can enter my flat.”
“But I only went there once. To have dinner with your parents.” Ginny said, casting an anxious glance at Harry.
“Besides, how can you say you slept with someone if you don’t remember anything?” George put in.
“Well, a man can’t have sex and not remember it, can he? I just know it. And no one else could have entered the house, except Ginny.”
“Unless you came home with another woman.” George said.
“Unless you invited them in,” Charlie added.
“I’m telling you, it’s Ginny! I just know it! Nothing else makes sense! The baby’s mine! Ginny, that baby’s mine!”
“Well, I don’t believe it,” George said, crossing his arms across his chest.
“I don’t believe it, either,” said Ron.
“Neither do I,” said Percy.
“Me, too,” said Charlie. “I don’t believe Ginny would sleep with any man she doesn’t love,” he added, giving Harry a fleeting glance.
“In fact, I’d rather Ginny’s baby’s father is a troll than you. Anybody’s preferable than you, in fact. Even Hagrid.”
Philip’s face hardened as he took in each of the faces of the Weasley brothers. “Well, it’s mine. I’m telling you it’s mine!”
“I don’t believe it either,” said Harry quietly. Whatever the truth was, Ginny didn’t need this moron in her life. “I’m sorry, dad,” Harry said, addressing Mr. Weasley. “I just can’t believe he’s the father of Ginny’s baby.”
Ginny looked up gratefully at Harry and he confirmed his sentiments to her with a reassuring smile.
“You can’t? Or you won’t?” Philip said, spitting angrily in the face of such a wall of opposition. “If that baby is mine – and I assure you it is – then I have a right to it. By law – “
“Philip, we’re not depriving you of anything,” said Mr. Weasley, cutting him off, “but we have to make sure. We have to be certain. We can’t decide anything based on your say-so.”
“Actually, we don’t have to. I don’t mind that Ginny’s baby remains fatherless,” George added, refusing to give in a corner.
“I don’t either,” Charlie said.
“Well, I’m telling you, it’s mine!”
Philip and George glared at each other with such an intensity of hatred they were like two rabid dogs snarling against each other. It was obvious that George was not going to back down from his rejection of Philip.
Then Philip straightened up, his face hardening into vengeful resolve. He lifted a hand towards his chest. Harry thought at first that he was about to make an oath, like a boyscout. But then he began to pull something from inside his coat, a black cloth, Harry saw, and then several things happened at once. With a cry Mr. Weasley stood up and lunged towards Philip. Mrs. Weasley, too, screamed a warning. Percy was on his feet as well, grabbing hold of his dad from behind, wrapping both arms around Mr. Weasley’s chest. ”Dad, no!” he cried. But Bill was quickest.
“Harry! Stop him!”
In a flash, Harry’s wand was in his hand. And despite not knowing why he was doing it, he waved his wand and, in an instant, Philip disappeared right on the very spot, the black piece of cloth dropping as if in slow motion. For a long time everyone was frozen silent, blankly staring at it, including Mr. Weasley who stood breathing hard, with a shocked look on his face. Percy, himself chasing his own breath, had let go of his father.
“What. Just. Happened?” Ron said.
But Bill spoke urgently. “Harry, where did you send him? He cannot be hurt.”
“What?” Harry said, jarred to the present. He, too, had been staring at the cloth, which he now saw was a wizard’s hat.
“Where did you send him? He cannot be hurt,” Bill repeated, obviously agitated.
“He’s not hurt,” Harry said unconcernedly.
“Where’d you send him?” Bill insisted.
“In a remote island in the Pacific. Why?”
“He cannot be hurt, Harry.” It was Percy who spoke this time.
“He’s not. He won’t be,” Harry said and when the others seemed to be waiting for more explanation, he added. “He just won’t be able to use magic until he returns to Britain. Until then, he’ll be as Muggle as they come.”
Then Bill turned to Ginny, her arms wrapped around herself. Mrs. Weasley’s face was deathly white. “Are you okay, Ginny?” Ginny merely nodded.
“Will someone please tell me what the hell just happened?!” George said, irritated.
“Arthur?” Mrs. Weasley said uncertainly.
Mr. Weasley looked up. “I’m sorry, Molly. I’m really sorry.” Then he looked down at Philip’s hat. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault,” Mr. Weasley said, looking thoroughly heartsick. “I didn’t know Philip was going to do that.”
“Dad, none of us expected him to. Who would?” said Percy. “Philip’s not even a pureblood; his mother’s a half-blood. Who knew he would know that kind of stuff?”
“But his father is, and, an official representative of the Britsih wizarding government,” Bill said. “They would be well-equipped in all British customs and traditions, including the arcane ones. And you’re right, dad, if there’s a chance Philip is really the father of Ginny’s baby, then he has every right to know.”
“Will somebody please tell me why I just sent a man halfway round the world?” Harry said quietly, but there was absolute authority in his voice quite difficult to ignore.
Bill and Percy looked at each other; Mr. Weasley still had his head down. It was Bill who spoke. “Harry, you know all about the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, right?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Did you ever wonder why it had to be enacted?”
Harry shook his head impatiently at the seemingly obvious question. “Because the Muggles were persecuting us.”
“But did you ever wonder why we never fought back against the Muggles? Why we just allowed them to hunt and persecute us? Hurt even our children?” Bill persisted. “We could have easily crushed them, make them forget even their own names, but why do you think we put up with all of it?”
Harry had no answer for him.
“Because we knew at the back of our minds that the Muggles were justified in their persecution of us.”
Harry stood patiently, waiting for Bill to elaborate further on what he had just said, which the latter obliged with soon enough. “Have you heard of the Droit du seigneur?” he asked.
Harry just looked blankly at Bill. He understood the words enough, but not their meaning. You couldn’t be around Bill’s family and not pick up a French word or two.
“Jus primae noctis, Harry,” Hermione said.
“The law of the first night?”** Harry asked, having watched the film Braveheart on the telly one time he was left alone at home at the Dursleys. “Thought it was a myth.”
“It wasn’t. Only, Muggles were made to think that it was.”
Harry frowned, the idea of its possibility rankling him.
“Imagine a pureblood who is lord of the land,” Bill said after a pause. “How difficult would it be for him to compel a Muggle to do his bidding? Give up his land, submit his daughter or his bride to his overlord on the eve of her wedding. It was a power play, Harry, a way of imposing a wizard’s superiority over the Muggles whom he viewed as little more than cattle in his land. And the Prima Nocte, the law of the first night, where brides have to give up their virginity on the eve of their wedding to their overlords, was just another way for wizards to show their utter disdain for Muggles.”
“And how soon do you think before the Muggles realized that something was not right? They could never understand how overnight they seemed to have lost their lands, signing away the lands they’ve inherited from their ancestors, that have been in their name for generations. And the serfs? Witness their daughters subjected to such humilities. How do you wake up from such a nightmare? How do you deal with it? Such injustice naturally led to anger. And that’s part of the reason why the Muggles rose up against us. The Statute of Secrecy was instituted as much for our protection as the Muggles’.”
“A few enlightened wizards on our side tried to offer protection as much as they could to Muggles,” said Bill, as if there was no interruption. “So they introduced the Père Presumptive law for Muggles as a defense against the Prima Nocte. It was the only defense against the Prima Nocte. If a woman can show that she’s already with child on the eve of her wedding then the groom could claim the child was his and the Prima Nocte could not be enforced, because no wizarding overlord would risk sleeping with a pregnant woman. In those days, there was no clear way of proving a child’s paternity. If a Muggle gave birth to a magical baby, then it would be reasonable to assume the wizard overlord was the father, and the child could thereafter file a suit for paternity or claim for inheritance. It won’t be much, but a wizard overlord with pureblood mania would hate having to acknowledge a child by a Muggleborn.”
“And it was a very tricky defense, Harry,” added Percy. “A woman could be beheaded for losing her virginity in the first place.”
“But what has it got to do with what happened tonight?” Harry asked, exasperated. He was in no mood for a long-winded history lesson tonight.
“Because not only Muggles, but wizarding families, too, had been victims of the Prima Nocte,” Bill said, willing Harry to understand. “In other words, anyone who’s unlucky enough to be poor in those times was subject to the law.”
But Harry shook his head, still not getting it.
“After the Muggle law was passed,” Bill carried on, “how soon do you think the wizards were able to develop its magical counterpart?”
“A wizard throwing his hat before a pregnant woman is just like a medieval knight throwing down his gauntlet to signify a challenge to a duel,” Percy added. “He doesn’t even have to utter a spell, the very act alone solidifies the magic.”
“In other words, Philip has just laid claim on Ginny and the baby,” Bill finished. "He was binding the baby's life, and therefore Ginny's, to himself."
“He did WHAT?” George exclaimed.
“Is that what Philip was trying to do?!” Charlie roared. “I should have killed him!” And he smashed a fist into his palm.
Harry felt his blood pounding in his ears. Years in the wizarding world, and he still felt like a neophyte. He tried to calm himself, staring fixedly at a point in the ground, trying to think. He looked up. “Bill, I sent him away. Do you think the magic came through?” he said desperately.
“I don’t know how much of the magic he had cast has taken effect,” Bill replied.
Harry ran his fingers through his hair, following the second thought that came through his head. “But wouldn’t we know if there’s been a change? If it has affected Ginny?” Harry persisted. “Ginny’s already been under so much magical strain.”
“I don’t know. I can’t say,” Bill said, and his eyes involuntarily strayed down to Philip’s hat on the ground. “It’s one of the ancient blood magic…” he said, his voice trailing off.
Harry felt Hermione’s gaze upon him. But he did not need to look up to know what she was thinking. Ancient blood magic. Wasn’t he a living example of that? Until Voldemort touched him through Professor Quirrel, Voldemort did not know what the effect of her mother’s sacrifice was going to have. Neither did he, Harry, for that matter.
“Ginny come here,” Harry said, turning to her. Mrs. Weasley reluctantly let go her hold of Ginny who shambled towards him, clutching tightly the Menat necklace under her top.
Harry met her halfway. “How do you feel?” he asked her gently.
“Fine.” They exchanged a fleeting glance. Ginny felt so many mix of emotions - anger, uncertainty, fear - that she felt as if she was walking in a dream. Everything that was being said around her just seemed like noisy insects buzzing round her head.
Harry waved his wand over her several times, checking and rechecking. He called to Bill, wanting a second opinion. But Bill only shook his head.
“I can’t do Magical Sensing, Harry. I can only check wards,” he said. And when it would seem Harry was about to turn to Hermione, he added. “None of us can.”
“I can’t detect any changes. I can’t read anything,” Harry said, not adding the fact that all he could feel was the powerful Shield of the Menat necklace, like a thick wall of pure concrete around Ginny. “What if the spell failed to come through? If something’s somehow was blocking it.”
“We can’t be too sure. We can’t gamble with Ginny’s life,” it was Charlie who spoke this time.
“What if Philip goes away? Disappears for good?” Harry said after a pause.
“Harry!” Hermione’s tone was reproachful.
“I’m not a saint, Hermione,” Harry said, exasperated. “I have my limits.”
“It’s not that easy, Harry. It doesn’t work that way,” Bill said. “If you hurt Philip, you’ll hurt Ginny, too. The magic of the Peré Presumptive spell is insidious. It takes a long time. Yes, there are times when the bond between the man and the woman is particularly strong, then the spell works fast and the woman dies in a matter of months, weeks. But normally it takes time. Eventually the magic will slowly drain her. Often the overlord who claims a woman already spoken for often end up with nothing.”
“It was a bitter time in history. Many times such a woman’s death was avenged so bitterly, and often to the last breath, that the practice of Prima Nocte grew out of popularity,” said Percy. “That’s why I had to stop Dad. If Philip’s spell had already taken effect, then hurting Philip would only lead to Ginny’s death.”
“What I don’t understand is why we have to let Philip know in the first place,” George said angrily.
“And there was never a need to. I was perfectly willing to accept the baby as my own,” Harry said, unable to keep the tone of resentment in his voice.
“Because as Philip said, by law he has a right,” Bill said patiently. “If it turns out that he really is the father of Ginny’s baby and we hid that fact from him, then he could easily take the baby away from Ginny and she would never see it again.”
“Why? How? Doesn’t the mother have a right to the child?” Charlie said.
“In the wizarding world, the father has more right to the child than the mother,” said Percy.
“But that’s crazy!” Charlie again exclaimed.
"Surely, that can't be legal?" said Harry.
“Harry, you’re forgetting that women’s lib is a 20th century concept,” said Hermione. “Women didn’t always have rights or much freedom.”
“By wizarding law, Philip has more right to the baby than Ginny,” Bill added.
“But that’s ridiculous,” said Harry.
“Call it what you want, Harry. But the enabling laws protecting a father’s right to an unborn child are still in place.”
“What if we make a petition? To have the law repealed?”
“It’s not that simple. And you’ll find that you’ll have difficulty finding the necessary votes to repeal the law. And laws are not retroactive. Philip could still argue that he has full rights to the child. And if he makes such a petition, it’s likely that he would win.”
“So what do we do now?” Harry asked, for once feeling slightly helpless.
“We wait. Until Ginny has given birth, at least. Until we know for sure if Philip is the father of Ginny’s baby.”
“If it’s not?”
“Then no harm done. To Ginny and the baby.” And here Bill smiled, so dangerously that the sheen of the wolf’s blood seemed to show on his face. That he didn't say what would happen to Philip was not lost on them.
“And he is?”
“If Philip chooses to keep the baby, then there’s nothing we can do about it,” Bill conceded, but the grimness in his manner remained. “And if we’re lucky, if he doesn’t force the issue, he could let Ginny go, if she wishes. If so, she would have to choose between you and the baby. That’s the best we can hope for. He could make it so that Ginny would never have access to the baby.”
“No, the baby’s mine!” Ginny cried suddenly, holding tightly her waist. The cry was wrenched from her lips even before she knew what she was doing, so suddenly that she even surprised herself.
“Ginny, I promise you it won’t come to that,” Harry tried to reassure her.
“Harry, don’t go making Ginny promises you can’t keep,” Bill said sharply. “You’re not a father yet. There’s a strong bond between parent and child that’s completely unbreakable, even after death. There are some magic that are greater, more powerful, even than you. Ginny must be prepared to either give up the baby…or you.”
For some reason the statement felt like a question that hung suspended in the air. Everyone fell quiet, as if waiting for Ginny’s reply, including Harry. But Ginny remained silent and merely clasped her hands and arms more tightly round her waist. Harry started to feel a heaviness in his chest, his jaw clenching tight.
Off to the side, Hermione’s heart broke as she watched Harry. The Dursleys had treated him horribly all throughout his childhood. Harry grew up unloved, unwanted, feeling utter rejection every day of his young life. She could only imagine what Ginny’s silence would mean to him.
“I think I have to leave now,” Harry said eventually into the silence and started to walk towards the darkness.
“You promised,” Ginny’s cry was a whisper, but the pain in her voice still rent the night. “You promised you would never leave me again.”
Harry stopped short. An awkward silence ensued. One by one the family left to go back into the house, leaving Ginny and Harry alone. Harry felt Ginny shift closer to him, but he did not turn to look back.
“Harry,” she spoke, his name a plea, and then she hugged him from the back.
“Ginny. The spell,” Harry’s tone itself was pleading. The Père Presumptive spell no longer allowed them such liberties, but Ginny ignored him.
“I can’t. I can’t give up the baby, not when I just learned I wanted it now,” she said as she cried behind his back, her tears dampening his clothes. “Please, please, Harry, don’t make me choose right now. I can’t do it.”
Harry took a deep sigh, realizing he was being ridiculous. Didn’t Ginny just say mere hours ago that she loved him? He turned around and hugged her back. What did he have all this power for if he couldn’t find a way around this conundrum?
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I won’t leave you again,” he said, gently brushing the hair away from her face. “And don’t worry, we’ll find a way.”
A/N:
*Sorry for this bit. Just been rereading Ice and Fire series (bec HBO is airing tv adaptation). I was just at the part where Tyrion Lancaster says his preferred way of dying when I was writing this chap, so this goes in. ;D
**tho it wasn’t in their subject list, apparently Hogwarts students speak latin well. Remember quid agis? So im thinking harry would immediately understand latin. Anyway most of hp spells have their root words in latin.
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