The moment Ginny appeared at the lobby of the Holyhead Harpies Players Dormitory, she knew something was wrong. The porter who was supposed to be manning the public entrance to the condominium (the Floo places were only for the exclusive use of team officials and players) at all times of the week was missing. So, too, was the receptionist at the concierge desk.
Ginny half-ran, half-walked towards the lifts, remembering all too well what she felt when she woke up that morning. Thankfully, the lifts were empty and soon enough she was opening the door to the unit she shared with Sylvie and another Chaser.
Ginny almost sobbed with relief when her eyes immediately landed on Sylvie who was in the kitchen drinking from a glass of water. Sylvie turned her head towards the door when she felt someone entering the open-designed condo but Ginny was taken aback by the hard, unwelcome expression on her friend’s face. Then the door to Sylvie’s bedroom opened, and two men emerged from inside, one of whom Ginny recognized as the assistant coach of the Falmouth Falcons, a man she knew to be married. Ginny kept her eyes downcast, as did the men, as they filed past her and left the unit without a word. She then raised puzzled eyes back to Sylvie, whose feminist ideals she knew bordered on the militant. Didn't Sylvie always say that she would never allow herself to be some man’s spare meat and was rather scathing of women she judged to have no morals to allow themselves to be one? Sylvie was the only woman Ginny knew who regarded it a cause of resentment rather than as an affirmation of her femininity a man expressing any interest in her. "Whatever gave him the idea that I would ever be interested in him?" was her refrain every time a man did so. Their teammates rather thought that Sylvie's extremist ideals were brought on by the arrogance of wealth, intelligence and beauty - for just as Sirius had been superciliously handsome, so was Sylvie. Though Ginny rather suspected it was more because of Sylvie’s absentee father, who had been a famous Quidditch player in his day and of whom Ginny had never heard Sylvie speak about.
"Sylvie?” Ginny felt compelled to call her friend’s attention when Sylvie refused to look back at her. Ginny also noticed for the first time how her friend’s body was trembling as she continued to gulp down glasses of water. Then Sylvie slowly put down the glass she was drinking from on the kitchen table and glared back at Ginny as she walked towards the main living area.
“Don’t you fucking judge me, Ginny!” she spat at Ginny who was taken aback by the viciousness of her friend’s anger. Sylvie was never even curt with her. "You're such a goody, goody two shoes, Weasley, you make me puke!" Sylvie added as she almost came near to where Ginny had been standing.
"Sylvie! Why are you biting my head off? I haven't done anything to you!"
Sylvie must have realized that she was taking out her anger on her friend, and though she did not apologize, she visibly calmed down.
“I’m not judging you. I just wanted to know what happened – to us.” Ginny’s voice sounded as unsure as she felt.
“What do you mean?”
Ginny couldn’t answer. She bent her head down. Sylvie walked right in front of Ginny and tried to lift Ginny’s chin up.
“Ginny?”
But Ginny pulled her face away from Sylvie, ashamed of the tears in her eyes, to look so vulnerable.
“Ginny, what happened?” Sylvie insisted.
Ginny wrapped her arms around herself and looked down. “Do you remember much of anything last night?” she asked eventually.
“I remember you arguing with Philip, and then nothing after that.”
“I argued with Philip?” Ginny said, looking up, surprised in spite of herself.
“You don’t remember?”
“No. Nothing. But I know that Philip was not supposed to be at the party. Remember, I asked that he be stricken off the invited guests list?”
“But he was there! You were arguing! How could you not remember?”
Ginny hugged herself even tighter. “I really don’t remember anything except arriving at the party itself.”
“But the Aurors! They would have prevented Philip from crashing the party.”
Ginny and Sylvie looked at each other and the two women realized that they had not seen any Aurors at the entrance gate of the manor where the party was held the previous night. However they thought nothing of it, assuming that the Aurors were checking the food and drinks inside.
“You don’t remember seeing any Aurors last night, do you?”
Ginny shook her head no. “But I know it was supposed to be that blond guy Donaghy and his partner. I heard my brother Ron telling my mum so when he Flooed in yesterday morning to tell my mum he and Hermione wouldn’t be able to make it to the game.”
“I never saw any Aurors last night.”
“Sylvie, there’s no guard downstairs. And the reception desk is empty, too.” Ginny said then she turned her head towards the room of their other flatmate, Leslie, but, as if reading her thoughts, Sylvie said:
“She’s not here. I already checked. Her bed hasn’t been slept in.”
Just then the fireplace in the room that was only used for communications but not for travel flared into life. They heard the crackle of the disembodied voice first before they saw the face.
“Weasley? Armstrong?" The two players immediately recognized the voice of their team handler, a tall, capable woman with highlighted blond hair she always kept in a short shaggy do and who always seemed to be harried for time. The two players both hurried to crouch down in front of the fireplace.
"Thank, Merlin! You're there! Are you two okay?"
"Yes. But we're missing Leslie," Sylvie said.
"It's okay. She's already here."
“Weasley! Armstrong! Get your butts here, quick as you can!” Gwenog Jones’s voice bellowed over the handler's head.
Ginny and Sylvie looked at the team handler.
"We're in a private room in St. Mungo's - "
"And don't take any potion! Not for headache! Nothing! Not even if you're bleeding to death!" Gwenog Jones continued to blare over the team handler's head.
But Ginny waited until Sylvie got dressed before they Flooed directly to the room in St. Mungo’s their team handler told them to go to and where the rest of the team were already waiting.
The moment Ginny entered the room, however, she stopped short so suddenly that Sylvie collided painfully into her back. Gwenog Jones, their captain, was wearing an orange sleeveless blouse, her large muscular arms in full display, slim fitting black trousers, cat's eye glasses and her black hair in a tall beehive. She also shoehorned her feet into flat shoes a size too small so that her toes bulged. A whimper almost escaped Ginny's lips. Ginny looked uncertainly towards her teammates who all turned their faces away trying to hide their laughter. There was also a massive, ugly bruise that covered the entire left side of their captain's face but, otherwise, she looked fine.
Sylvie, however, completely ignored Jones and marched ahead right to the other side of the room where a management staff stood, no doubt finding a new target upon whom to vent her ire.
Feeling suddenly marooned, Ginny edged across the room to sit beside her other flat mate, Leslie, whom the Muggle-borns had dubbed as ‘the powdery Snow White, with morals just as loose’. Ginny thought it rather stupid. Wasn’t snow already white?
"What happened to her?” she mumbled to Leslie at the side of her mouth as she sat down.
"She's been taking your brother's Wonder Witch Beautifying Cream. Apparently, it doesn't go well with the date rape potion they found in the drinks last night at the party."
Another player nearby who had heard the exchange between Ginny and Leslie ducked her head down and snickered. Jones noticed of course and barked at them:
"Go ahead and laugh, you're off the team!"
But the players were so used to Jones that they ignored the remark though Leslie bent her head down and pretended to wipe dirt off her shoe while she continued to mumble.
"Saved her life though. The bruises appeared first. She didn't have to wait ‘til morning for the dehydration to kick in."
"So, it's true then? The drinks were spiked?"
"Yeah. Why?,” said Leslie, looking at Ginny. “Did you not feel anything when you woke up this morning? Because I heard even the butterbeers were Mickey Finned.”
Ginny did not answer. Besides, she had never heard of a mickey fin potion.
"I myself woke up in a bathroom at the manor,” Leslie said with a nonchalant shrug. “Of course, I don't remember anything of what happened last night. And so, me and the bloke I woke up with this morning agreed to meet with each other later tonight.”
"At least you woke up with a man. Maureen here woke up with two women." A blond player spoke up, gesturing with her thumb to the reserve player seated beside her who smiled sheepishly at them as a round of laughter broke out among her teammates. Ginny kept silent. Of course, to some of her teammates, waking up to find out you had sex and didn't remember a thing about it was not the tragedy that it was to her.
"But what a waste! I mean, the potion was supposed to make you as horny as a caveman about to hunt his first woolly mammoth and enhance your physical experiences - " Leslie began again.
"- sexual -" the same player who butted in before spoke anew.
" - well, yes, sexual experiences - but you can't remember anything after? How effing stupid is that?!"
"You can remember, too, but only if you take the minimum amount. Problem is, when you add a little more, 'coz it only takes a little for the little to become too much," the blond player spoke up again.
"Why do you know so much about it?!" another player flared up, suddenly angry.
"Because it has already happened before, stupid. Remember the Wigtown Wanderers’ 'harvest' party last hols?"
"Don't tell me you attended that party?"
"Why not? It is a party. Free booze all night. And the Wanderers are quite a dishy lot."
The angry player was about to make a retort but Leslie spoke again.
“Guess, we’re luckier though. We players have been trained to watch out for dehydration. If you’re thirsty, you drink. Saved our lives.”
“Yeah. None of the three patients who died were athletes, including the receptionist downstairs," said the blond player.
“She’s dead? But she’s only nineteen!” Ginny felt a bit guilty. Like most women, at first the younger woman’s beauty alerted Ginny’s territorial radar: was she Harry’s type? But she eventually became friends with the bubbly teen who wanted nothing more than to launch her own line of beauty products and to meet Neville, of all people.
“And Corinne’s boyfriend’s in a coma.”
“But why? What happened?” the realization that she had had a narrow escape finally dawning on Ginny.
“Her boyfriend only took a headache potion and then collapsed. The Porter from the condo helped Corinne bring him here.”
“But they’re already talking about getting married!”
“Poor Corinne,” Maureen said, the others echoing the sentiment.
“Really hate to be her right now,” Leslie added.
“Yeah, it does suck to be her,” the blond player added.
Then the door opened and all their eyes turned towards it as two men entered the room, a Magical Law Enforcement Officer judging from his robes and a St. Mungo’s Healer with black hair in a classic tapered cut, dark Mediterranean skin, and angular jaws and whom Ginny recognized from her mum’s volunteer work at the hospital. The Healer looked around the room, but upon seeing Ginny, stopped suddenly, anxiety marring his face.
“Well?” Jones barked at the men impatiently.
“Miss Barnes’ fiancée is still in a coma. We’re not sure when he’ll wake up,” the Healer said, adding quietly, ”If.”
“But what happened?”
“We’ve found Potion X in all the drinks from last night, including the butterbeers,” Ginny could almost hear the clicks in her teammates’ necks as they turned their faces towards her but she kept her own face locked on the man who spoke. “You do know what it does, don’t you?”
“Potion X?” the team handler said.
“It was supposed to be a mixture of a Muggle date rape potion and wizarding potions,” the Healer said.
“GHB,” the MLE officer said.
Jones only looked at the MLE Officer with a gormless expression on her face.
“The Muggle date rape potion?” the MLE officer added, tilting his head a tiny bit as if coaxing comprehension from Jones, who although her mother was Muggleborn, completely grew up in the Wizarding world and therefore did not have any idea what GHB meant.
“Unfortunately, the potion we found in the drinks last night, was a new designer drug. The GHB was combined with wizarding potions, causing a veritable toxic mix,” the Healer said.
“But how could that have happened? There were supposed to be Aurors in the venue!” said Jones, coming back to life.
"You do know that Aurors are not really required by law to oversee the security in these events?” the MLE said, obviously becoming miffed. “It was only a courtesy the Ministry extended to Quidditch leagues. The security in these types of events is entirely the Quidditch franchises’ responsibility. That means you."
“But where is Mr. Potter? Shouldn’t he be here now to investigate what happened? Surely you realize that this is no longer a matter for the MLES but for the Aurors?!” and Jones made to look behind the two men’s backs as if she thought they were hiding Harry behind them.
The Ministry employee stiffened.
“We’ve been trying to contact Mr. Potter but we’ve been unable to raise him. They’ve lost a man in yesterday’s operations - "
Ginny's ears pricked up. An Auror died yesterday? But Harry looked so happy.
" – The Auror, in fact, who volunteered to baby-sit your party last night. And I’ve heard that they would have lost another one if it were not for him. Mr. Potter saved many lives yesterday. Don’t you think he deserved to have at least a day off? So please excuse us if Mr. Potter cannot attend to everyone’s beck and call,” the MLE officer said coldly.
Gwenog Jones had decency enough to look ashamed.
The MLE officer then turned to the Healer. "If you don't need anything more..."
"It's fine. Thank you very much for your assistance, Officer. We appreciate it," said the Healer.
The MLE officer nodded, then left the room, closing the door carefully behind him.
The Healer then turned to face Gwenog Jones.
“Look, you all know what the potion is used for,” he said, addressing the room, his eyes lingering on Ginny a second longer. "We need to know who had been on contraceptive potion before the event and who were not."
"But that's a private matter! Not even management could take a look at those files if they do not have express permission from the players themselves," the team manager said.
"Sorry, but we have to make sure. In fact, all the people who attended last night’s events have been advised to come in for follow up check-ups, particularly the women.”
“But why?”
“Based on recent cases of such poisoning, we have learned that certain ingredients in the Potion have a long half life in the body, meaning,” he added hurriedly as Jones made to interrupt him, “they stay in the body for quite a long time, like mercury. Also, the most pronounced side effect in the months following the initial poisoning is internal bleeding as the body strains to remove the foreign substances. Not only that, the potion itself has terrible drug interactions with other potions, which means we can’t prescribe medications we would normally use for patients who do not have the potion in their system.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Frankly speaking, it’s the worst potion that has ever been invented. It’s almost like the wizarding equivalent of the AIDS plague in its early years.“
But Jones, whose forehead became more wrinkled and her lips pursed more tightly as the Healer spoke said,
"You better talk straight now. I just have about this much patience (and she gestured with her thumb and pointer finger just a half-inch apart) for you and your blathering. You really don't want to be clouted on the head, do you?"
At any other time, the mental image of Jones hitting someone on the head with those powerful muscles of hers would be very funny, and yet nobody was laughing at this point. All the players had heard the rumors. But usually they were from the other side of the pond or even as far away as Australia - so far away from them that they never thought it could happen here. Not in Harry Potter land. Who would be dumb enough?
“What I’m trying to say is none of your players is completely out of the woods, yet. Those who have been taking birth control potions before last night could expect nothing more than heavier menstrual bleeding, provided none of them conceive in the following months, of course. But those who will get pregnant as a result of this we will have to closely monitor. We cannot terminate the pregnancy, you see. The patient will surely bleed to death.”
“So you’re saying if someone’s already on the potion….”
“- is relatively safe, unless they’ve always had bleeding problems.”
Jones turned around to the players.
“I’m safe,” Leslie said, an answer echoed all around them, except for Ginny and Sylvie.
“So, Weasley, Armstrong. I’m not sure about Corinne - ”
“Miss Barnes? I’ve already checked. She was on the potion,” said the Healer.
Jones took a deep breath, as if bracing for something unpleasant then began talking again. “So, that’s three players down. Corinne would be in no emotional condition to play….” She looked at Maureen. “Yes. I think it’s doable,” she said, more to herself. “They’re ready.”
“Pardon me?” the Healer cut in, his forehead furrowed.
“Only three players who can’t play in the playoffs,” Jones said with an air of explaining something simple to someone quite obtuse. “The reserves will be able to take their places.”
“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve missed a crucial point of what I have just said,” the Healer said, his jaw angling.
But Jones merely looked back at the Healer as if she did not understand his words.
“The primary side effect of the date rape potion is bleeding? Meaning, none of your players can play the games. We cannot risk them getting injured because we would not be able to treat them.”
“But that’s impossible! What about the playoffs?” Jones said, raising her voice.
“What about your players’ lives?”
“But we’re already committed. Tickets have already been sold!” Jones now was looking at the Healer as if he were mad.
“Well, you can’t play, not with these players anyway,” said the Healer, gesturing towards Ginny and her teammates.
“Well, then, you’re mad if you think we’re going to forfeit the games!” Jones replied, looking as if she were sporting for a fight.
“Well, you have no choice, unless you’re willing to risk the lives of your players? In which case, we shall be putting on record that St. Mungo’s has advised you not to field your players for the games. But if the franchise pushes through with the plays, then we’re washing our hands off of any responsibility for the lives of these players.”
"But it just isn't possible...." Jones said faintly.
But the Healer had had enough. He cast Ginny another look then turned back to Jones.
“You do understand that one of your players is a Weasley? You must know that Mr. Potter is rather protective of that family. I’ve seen him around, helping Mrs. Molly Weasley with the patients from the last war. I don’t think he will be very pleased should anything happen to any one of them, do you? Besides, you will be the one to explain to him why you are willing to put one of their lives in danger."
"But I've already said that I'm grounding Weasley..." Jones continued to feebly protest.
"Even so. You are still planning to put not just one, nor even a few, but all of your players' lives in danger and St. Mungo's will not be a party to that. So, if you'll please excuse me..."
The Healer then turned his head towards Ginny, nodded his head in acknowledgment, and then left the room without a word.
Nobody spoke. Jones was still turning from one face to another, her mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish, as if trying to confirm that what had just happened was real.
But the rest of the team, after a moment’s silence, seemed to make one great, big shrug and turned from her. Though it sucked for them not to be able to play in the games, there was always next year. Besides, they had already won the championship two years ago. It was not as if this was their first time proving their mettle in the Quidditch field. There was also the not so bitter matter that whether they played the games or not, they were going to be paid their full contract fee.
Then everyone’s face turned towards Ginny. And she thought she knew why. She was a Weasley. What were the chances that she would not conceive? Slim to none. And though she did not make an issue of it, Ginny thought that her teammates suspected the truth that she was a virgin. Well, at least until last night. For one thing, she had never had a guy at the flat who spent the night over. Plus, she more than gave herself away when, during one of their team’s raunchier talks one night, a player made a joke about how this guy she knew only had one testicle. And Ginny asked how her teammate knew. All her teammates turned their faces towards her then, incredulous, as Ginny reddened. It was only later when she and Sylvie were alone that Ginny asked her friend about it and Sylvie explained. Well, how was she supposed to know that one could easily feel them? Whose bollocks did she have a chance to hold or rather, was willing to?
Thus, though Ginny kept her face glued to Sylvie’s across the room, she could just hear the thoughts running through her team’s heads. Sucks to be Corinne? More like, sucks to be Ginny, right now.
~o~
Ginny Flooed directly back home to the Burrow. She couldn't stand any longer the pitying looks her teammates were giving her though Leslie gave her a reassuring kiss on the head as she made her leave.
It took Ginny several attempts though before she could get through to the network. It would seem the Floo on the Burrow’s end was a bit congested. When she was finally able to get through the Floo into the Burrow’s kitchen, she arrived upon a scene of total bedlam. She stood there unsteadily as various members of her family stood gaping at her, then -
“Ginny!”
“Tante Ginny!”
Her mum was the first to reach her, though the others were not too far behind. Even little Victoire jostled with her elders to get ahold of Ginny. Guess they must have already heard the news, Ginny thought tiredly.
“Ginny! What happened?”
“Where have you been?”
“We’ve been hearing rumors – “
“It’s all over Diagon Alley – “
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you – “
“They said Harpies players have been found dead – “
Ginny began to feel claustrophobic. The reality of what had just happened came crushing to her fully. How could she tell her family what had happened to her? Would her mum understand? She did not know how or when to begin to tell them. She wanted to weep but the tears would not come.
“ENOUGH!” Over and above the cacophony of voices her dad’s voice rang out. He must have noticed Ginny’s growing anxiety. But Ginny felt too emotionally drained to even lift her face up and give her father a grateful look. She felt her legs weaken and she started to fall. But her mum still had a tight grip round her waist and Ginny felt herself being half-lifted, half-dragged to a nearby chair.
“Ginny, baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” Her mum said as she peered anxiously into Ginny’s face as she herself sat down beside her daughter.
“Ginny, is it true? The rumors? The entire team was poisoned?” Percy.
Ginny could only nod her head weakly.
“But you’re okay, aren’t you? You never drink alcoholic beverages.” George.
“Ginny?”
Ginny sensed her eldest brother Bill crouch down in front of her for her sight had started to become blurry.
Then she heard Fleur call curtly to her children. “Les enfants, viens.” Victoire had parked herself by Ginny’s knees.
“But I want to be with Tante Ginny!” Victoire petulantly said, the threat of a tantrum clear in her high-pitched voice.
“Viens avec moi! Maintenant!” Fleur snapped in a voice that clearly brooked no argument. Recognizing the tone, Victoire reluctantly peeled herself off Ginny’s side, patting her beloved Aunt on the thigh as she did so and Ginny couldn’t help but smile at the innocent gesture of reassurance.
When all the children were herded from the room, Bill once again directed his attention to Ginny.
“Gin, what happened?”
Ginny did not answer for a long time. She looked at her brother’s face. The scars made by Greyback had all but disappeared now. Sometime after the war, Harry had asked Bill if he wanted the scars to lessen a bit. Though Bill and Fleur both said they didn’t mind either way, Mum, however, was all for it. It was simple enough - if you were Harry. Harry used the Sectumsempra spell to open anew the scar-wounds then healed them back. A few were completely healed, though some still remained but none looked as bad as they did before Harry healed them. Harry did a good job and Bill looked just as handsome as ever.
Soon the suspended silence that followed forced Ginny to finally speak. She began to haltingly narrate the events as she knew how they had happened – from last night’s party until the meeting at St. Mungo’s. Thankfully, her family did not try to interrupt as she tried to tell them everything she could remember of the recent events - everything, that is, except for Harry’s visit; somehow, she felt it was too private a matter to share even with her family. And she didn’t think she could relive either Harry’s rejection of her. As it was, she was barely able to keep herself together. Finally, she couldn’t add anything more and she stopped speaking.
A ringing silence soon followed Ginny’s speech. Her family was too stunned at the news Ginny had delivered. It was George who broke the silence first.
“Weren’t there supposed to be Aurors last night?”
“Died. In an operation yesterday,” Ginny said in barely a whisper.
“Ronald! Where is he?” Percy cried indignantly and there was no mistaking that he was about to lay blame on their absent brother.
“Ron didn’t know. How could he? Nobody expected it would happen. But he made sure that there would be Aurors at the party last night. I heard him myself,” Ginny said. There was just a hint of warning in her voice that they are not going to pin any blame on their absent brother.
“Ginny, you said the potion was used for – “ Bill started.
“As a sex enhancement drug,” George cut in as if he didn’t even want Ginny to speak the word “sex”.
“Ginny, where did you wake up this morning?” Bill continued.
“Here. In my room.”
Bill seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Then, you’re fine? Nothing happened to you?” Ginny looked at Bill’s face. Ginny knew what her eldest brother was really asking behind his questions. She shook her head. Bill audibly sucked in his breath.
“FUCK!” George ran out the door of the kitchen and banged the door close behind him. But nobody castigated him for his behavior. Although when Ginny looked up to watch George march out of the door, she was surprised to find Angie standing among her family, tears in her eyes as well. Angie seldom left little Freddie alone as, like as not, he’d get into trouble.
“What? What is it?” The panic in their mum’s voice was evident.
“But how?” Percy said.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember,” Ginny felt like burying her head in her arms. “I have to come back in two weeks for a pregnancy check-up.”
“Ginny! You’re not saying – “
Bill once again interjected, trying to put in objectivity into the situation, preventing their mother into spiraling into a full panic mode. Ginny was thankful that Bill was there and he was the one asking all the questions. She needed her brother’s cool and objectivity. And somehow she didn’t feel like discussing the entire matter with her dad, who kept quietly by her mum’s side. Ginny couldn’t look directly anyone in the eye but she needed her family to know what had happened.
“Ginny, could you be - ? Are you – “
Ginny couldn’t help it and burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. Her mum hugged her even tighter, trying to offer what little comfort she could.
“Do you know who the father might be Ginny?” Bill asked at length.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.”
Her mum tightened her grip on Ginny but Bill immediately noticed.
“Mum, you’ll bruise her,” Bill quietly admonished then turned back to Ginny. “If you become pregnant, Ginny, would you like to keep the baby?”
“Do we have to talk about it now? Couldn’t it wait?” Percy said.
“I don’t want to drag this conversation into days or weeks even. Ginny has to get everything out of the way now. Otherwise, we’ll only be making it harder for her,” Bill calmly replied back, never taking his eyes off his sister.
Ginny kept quiet. She didn’t think she had been given much choice in the matter. And she reminded them of the words of the St. Mungo’s Healer. Just then George rampaged his way back into the room.
“Where’s Harry? We need him. I’ve been trying to contact him since I heard the rumors at Diagon Alley but I couldn’t reach him.”
“He isn’t hurt, is he?” her Mum cried.
“If Harry’s been hurt in an operation yesterday then we would soon hear of it. No, I don’t think Harry’s hurt,” Bill said.
“But if an Auror died, and Harry felt himself responsible….” Angie said. Having known Harry for a long time, she too had gotten a handle on how Harry operated.
There was a space of a few minutes when her family contemplated this matter. Ginny was grateful that, for a brief amount of time, the attention of her family was directed away from her - though every mention of Harry’s name felt like a stab of ice in her chest.
Bill turned once again to his sister.
"Ginny, we need your memory of the night of the party. As much as you can remember." Bill said gently to her.
"Is it really necessary? Ginny can't perform magic on herself! It's too dangerous! She could hurt herself!" But there was something in the inflection in his mum's voice that caused Bill to briefly glance her way and noted - along with worry - the guilty expression on her face.
“I’ll do it myself,” said Bill. Memory extraction had been used extensively after the war on children who couldn't perform the magic as a means of gathering evidence, to spare the children the trauma of having to stand witness at the Death Eaters trials.
Bill turned his face back to his sister.
"What was the last thing you remember clearly?" Bill said to Ginny.
"The night before the party. Mum was baking." Then Ginny bent her head down. She just realized that it was the last time she felt happy. Hopeful. Safe. Bill seemed to sense what Ginny was feeling and gently combed her hair back over her shoulder.
“Ginny, I need you to concentrate fully on everything you can remember last night. We need to know. We need to find out if this thing has been deliberately done to you. In case we have to take steps.”
The last sentence was quietly spoken but Ginny felt a sudden chill in the air, and she felt the undercurrent of anger in Bill’s calm voice. She looked at her brother’s face. There was a cold promise there the extent of which Ginny could only guess at. But there was also a reassurance, a commitment, and Ginny felt her heart lighten a bit at the knowledge that, despite having his own family to look after now, Bill was letting her know that she could still rely upon him.
"Perhaps, Ginny should try to remember only what happened at the party?"
Bill spared another sidelong glance at their mum who was now wringing her hands and he allowed himself a small smile. Yep, guilty. Bill thought he felt his father's eyes on him and doubtless his dad must have noticed his mum's reaction as well; however, the rest of the family, too concentrated on Ginny, did not.
Finally, Ginny gave a small nod and Bill raised his own wand.
"Don't worry," he murmured as he placed the tip of his wand to Ginny’s temple, "you won't feel any pain."
And though Ginny spoke it so quietly as to be almost inaudible, Bill nevertheless heard Ginny's anguished reply: "But I already do."
~o~
Ginny was seated at the back seat of the Ford Anglia looking out the window though she could see nothing but Muggle vehicles and an endless wall of grass that hid the Wraysbury Reservoir from view from the M25 motorway on which they were travelling, though from time to time flocks of sheep that kept the grassy embankment under control would peek into view. Outside the car, the bright sun was misleading as a stiff wind was blowing from the east, and she remembered the cold stepping into the car. Normally, she loved these drives with her parents, which happened very seldom as there had been no need to - until now. Lately though, they had gotten a lot more use from it in the past three months than the last four years since Harry brought it to the Burrow - ever since the Harpies victory party, in fact.
Molly Weasley turned from the passenger seat towards the back to address her only daughter. "Are you feeling okay, dear? Do you want anything? Maybe we can stop over by a Muggle pub and have some lunch if you're feeling hungry."
"I'm fine, mum."
"Do you need some tissue? I have lots here. And your dad was kind enough to buy some more from a Muggle apothecary near the Healer's office."
"It's 'kay, mum. Really."
Ginny then turned her head back again towards the outside. She knew that if her father wanted to, they could travel in an instant to Ottery St. Catchpole instead of taking the three hour drive from London. It was not because her dad wanted to enjoy the scenery nor was it for the pleasure of driving this car. And though her dad's hands were on the wheel and he kept a straight face ahead, Ginny knew the car was on automatic pilot, weaving through roads that have the least amount of Muggle traffic. And, as if the car knew what her father wanted or Ginny needed from it, the car was moving along at a steady pace, even sometimes taking the bridleway – unnoticed by Muggles, of course - with nary a whisper of movement that would jostle Ginny and cause her to suffer yet again from another wave of nausea.
Ginny leaned her head back further in the seat, letting her left hand run slowly along the smooth seat cover Harry had installed, luxuriating in the comfort the car offered. Under the removable seats it was all expensive leather, porous with air vents underneath. Thus, moisture was not a problem for this car, yet Harry still added this extra layer of cover to make the car as comfortable as possible – no back sweats ever in this car. And that was just fine by Ginny. She also knew that if she wanted to, she could easily lie down and the seat would automatically lengthen to accommodate her supine body.
 | ||
| George's Car |
Ginny turned her head to look at her father’s profile. Though her dad kept his face directed straight ahead, she knew that he was not really looking at the road. She also noticed how he kept blinking his eyes and swallowing.
A few days ago, her mum had a bad scare when Ginny came down to breakfast sporting a spectacular black eye. Ginny had seen it, of course. But bruises had started to appear more often all over her body now. So why should it surprise her that one appear on her face? The nosebleeds came frequently too, even at night while she was sleeping. But it was not as if they had not been told that this would happen. Still, everyone around her had increasingly gotten more worried. Katie Bell, who had studied nursing and then on to Healing school, made it a point to drop by the Burrow from St. Mungo’s almost everyday just to check her blood pressure. This, after a girl who also had attended the Harpies victory party and subsequently became pregnant had died in her sleep – while already confined at St. Mungo’s. Apparently, a blood clot from a ruptured artery behind her knee had lodged itself in her lungs. Even Luna, soon after receiving Ginny’s letter, came home from Kazakhstan where she had been checking out reports of recent sightings of a graphorn (which the rest of the wizarding world knew as an Indrik beast) in the Valley of the Castles there; Ginny didn’t want Luna to hear news of her pregnancy from someone else. But Luna being Luna, she only said that the pregnant look was becoming of Ginny, were it not for all the bruises.
She knew she ought to worry about what the Healer had just told her and her mum back in his office but try as she might, it wasn't the Healer’s words that kept reverberating in her mind like an endless Muggle carousel: "nothing quite like it...quite like you..." What the hell did that mean? That...what? Ginny wanted nothing more than to just forget about Harry. It's time to grow up Ginny. It's time to let go of your childish fantasies, she told herself. And yet, she could not help but puzzle over Harry's words. His actions were so different from the words he had uttered that thinking about it only served to frustrate her further. And further aggravation was the last thing Ginny needed.
Still, she couldn't remember hearing Harry say those words to her without shivering. And like an endless carousel, Ginny's feelings about it would fluctuate between hope and despair: hope that Harry somewhat returned her feelings after all, despair that it seemed everything was moot and academic now. So what if he did care for her? He was gone, had left her when simply him being in the same country she was in brought her comfort. And what would he return back to, even if he did? It was too late now. Would he still want her? now that she was carrying another man's child? There was no reference for her at all against which to measure how Harry would react to the news of her pregnancy. She couldn’t care less what the rest of the wizarding world should think of her now that she's pregnant, but Harry?
Of course, she was not stupid. Ginny knew her parents were simply wracked with worry. She knew that. When it was confirmed that Sylvie had gotten pregnant, she went home to her people up north where they still practiced some of the old Druid and Völva magic from the days of the Viking occupation. As a way of keeping her alive, her people had placed Sylvie in magical stasis until her scheduled delivery. So far, it had helped stabilize Sylvie’s condition. And now St. Mungo’s was thinking of doing the same thing to all the pregnant patients from the Harpies party, including Ginny. They were given only a few days to decide on the matter. But even as the Healer made the proposal, he gave them no guarantees either. And Ginny knew that the idea was scaring her parents even more. And she guessed she should be, too. But Ginny simply could not be arsed. For what could be done, really? If she died, she died. She was not so slow as to not recognize when Sod’s Law was happening. And clearly, in her current situation, the law was very much in effect. Well, then, so be it: Sod it, then. Sod it all to hell.
When they arrived at the Burrow, the entire family, except for Percy’s and George’s wives as well as all the Weasley grandchildren, was already waiting. Upon seeing Ron and Hermione though, Ginny had her face on. She walked straight to her other brothers and Fleur, kissing each one of them, then marched right up the stairs to her room, completely ignoring Ron and Hermione. She knew that the two thought that she blamed them for what happened to her. If they hadn’t run off that weekend, then Ron would have known that the Aurors who were supposed to be manning the party had been taken out of action and replacements could have been found. But it wasn’t that at all.
A week after Harry had gone, Hermione looked as Ginny felt. But on the second weekend the two had disappeared on the family again, and when they both returned just in time for the family’s Sunday dinner, Hermione had lost the miserable expression on her face, and in fact, looked even happy and at peace and Ginny instantly knew that the two had been with Harry. Also, she had overheard Teddy at Shell Cottage some time after that proudly telling Victoire how he and Harry had gone surfing. And it infuriated Ginny even further.
She had already begun to think that perhaps the reason Harry had left that day at the Burrow was because of Donaghy’s death, that Harry must have thought that he would be putting her in danger once again if he started anything with her, the way Tom Riddle had used her as bait once. Even then Ginny had seethed. What a stupid man, she thought. Did he think that she couldn't take care of herself? She grew up with Fred and George! The twins, besotted as they had been with their only and younger sister, used to take every opportunity as children to set her off like a firecracker just to see the effect.
Then she got slapped in the face with the truth of Harry’s continued relationship with his best friends and godson. And Ginny did not know what to think anymore. She just could not figure Harry out. Was he willing to risk Teddy but not her? What? Perhaps she was just that not important to him after all? That his attraction to her was only, literally, skin deep? As in, foreskin deep.
And seeing Ron and Hermione reminded Ginny of that. She boiled even further. She headed directly to her room determined to work on the scrapbook of newspaper and magazine articles of the two she had been secretly making for years. Everyone was in on it: her sisters-in-law, Verity, her teammates, her Dad’s secretary, the porter at the dormitory, even a few of Charlie’s sundry girlfriends from as far away as Romania – all had given her clippings to be put in the scrapbook. At first the project was started only as a joke, a means for the family to pay back the two for all the shame they had put the family through. Although, why anyone who knew them before should be surprised at Ron’s and Hermione’s behavior was beyond Ginny. She thought that the two had always conducted their affair in public, or rather had always been rather public with their feelings for each other. Now that the two had become intimate, they were just upping the ante a bit further. Unfortunately for the – lecherous, yes that’s the word, thought Ginny – lecherous couple, Ginny was not in a forgiving mood. Someday, those two were going to pay.
~o~
As soon as they heard the door to Ginny’s room click closed, everyone turned to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny would only be given until the end of the family discussion and then someone would come upstairs to check on her.
When Mrs. Weasley had finished relaying to the family what had been discussed at the Healer’s office, Bill noticed Ron and Hermione exchanging a silent, rapid communication. Then Hermione glanced at him. Bill said nothing but turned to his wife instead. "Fleur, we're leaving," he said abruptly. He then walked over to his mum and buzzed her on the cheek, Fleur doing the same, then he nodded goodbye to his father and the rest of the family and they Flooed to Percy’s house where Audrey and Angie were keeping watch over all the Weasley grandchildren.
When Bill and Fleur had gone, Ron and Hermione turned to the family.
"The Necklace of Menat, Harry has it," Hermione said without preamble.
Percy's eyes widened. "So, it's true then? I heard rumors."
"Yes."
"What's the Necklace of Menat?" George asked.
"It's an Egyptian artifact. A very powerful magical object. It's like Harry's Invisibility Cloak, really, but its magic is more,” Hermione paused as she searched for the right word, “ - proactive. It can help Ginny. Stabilize her magic."
"It will? She didn’t have to be placed in magical stasis?" Mrs. Weasley almost cried with relief.
"Are you sure?" Mr. Weasley said, hope erasing the worry lines on his face.
"Yes, we've seen it."
"You know where Harry is," George said, hurt in his voice.
"No, George," said Hermione, turning at once to George with both her hands raised in supplication. " - we don't. We've only seen him twice. Harry would only send a portkey to us. He never told us where we were or where he would be going next, only where he'd been. And not even to all the places he'd been to."
"So, he could see you? But not us? Some friend he is," said George, unmollified.
"No, George. You don't understand,” said Hermione pleadingly. “Something's wrong with Harry. I don't know what it is. He wouldn't say. He wouldn't discuss anything. Not even Kingsley knows what's bothering Harry. It had to be more than what had happened to Donaghy. Please, you have to understand. This is Harry we're talking about. He was never one for sharing his feelings, not even me."
"George, it’s Harry, man." Ron interjected, hoping that that was all the explanation that was needed. And George did understand, in some way. The year after the war, Harry would drop by his store and spend the night over in the only available place in the flat - the sofa, and he and Harry had become closer even with Ron there. Harry had kept quiet during the times talk would stray towards Fred. But George understood and took no offense.
An uncomfortable silence followed, but Percy, sensing George’s acquiescence, asked eagerly. "The other artifact too? Hathor's headdress? I heard it was also found along with the necklace - "
"It's no longer relevant to this discussion," Ron said coldly. The truth of the matter was, he and Hermione had already violated the Ministry's injunction against speaking about the powerful artifacts outside of relevant personnel. That's why Bill had to leave. The Gringotts Goblins had enacted earlier a similar policy: that all Gringotts employees must report at once all knowledge they had of the existence and whereabouts of Egyptian artifacts. And even try and confiscate them, in the name of Gringotts Bank's long-standing agreement with the Egyptian authorities that they, and they alone, had exclusive exploratory rights to treasures found in Egypt and therefore had first rights on any Egyptian artifacts.
"How are you going to contact him then?" said Mr. Weasley. He, too, had heard of powerful Egyptian jewels taken from the doomed Auror operation.
"Kingsley." Ron said simply.
"How soon could you leave Ronnie?" Mrs. Weasley said, reverting to her son’s childhood nickname.
Ron gave Hermione only a brief glance. "I'll leave now."
~o~
*Like the ‘internets’, Ginny would know the car as “Paganini” not because she has difficulty remembering words and names but they are things that are not really important to her and so doesn’t pay close attention to
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Interesting story.. cant wait to see what comes next. Hope you are not abandoning this story. Please update.
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