27Chapter 13
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own anything Harry Potter affiliated. If I did, I would be sending this off to a publisher—not posting it online.
A/N: Onward! (Let's just pretend it hasn't been an entire year since I last updated…)
Ginny woke to a gentle tapping on the door to their bedroom.
After her brothers had left the night before, and the room had quieted, she and Harry had promptly fallen asleep on the couch in each other's arms. When the portrait door closed with a quiet click, the two were left alone. It wasn't until the fire had started to die down and the temperature had begun to drop, that Tilly had popped into the room. Ginny peaked open a single eye, and watched as the tiny, wonderful creature stoked the fire back to life before snapping her fingers to clear away the leftover food, tidy the room, and move the remaining gifts back into her and Harry's bedroom. (She also could have sworn she heard the gentle unlocking sound of the two rooms that Ginny herself had locked previously to keep her brothers from seeing their shared accommodations.) Then, on the coffee table—almost directly in front of her face—two dinner plates appeared along with two steaming mugs. As she held her breath, Ginny hoped the mugs were tea, and not hot chocolate. Before the elf left, she stopped in front of them on the couch and snapped a final time to cover the pair of them in a blanket.
Ginny could have sworn Tilly winked at her before she popped herself out of the room.
Upon the second pop, Harry woke. Ginny thought it was adorable how he startled awake, but then quickly froze in an attempt not to wake her. She could feel his gaze on her as his breathing increased. They had fallen asleep with him lying on the couch and her snuggled-up on his chest, lying between his legs, one arm behind his head and the other wrapped over her shoulder. He ran his free hand slowly up and down her arm before pulling the blanket up higher to tuck her in. She giggled quietly as the blanket tickled a sensitive spot on her neck and Harry chuckled.
"You awake?"
Ginny laughed in earnest. "After almost two years in captivity? Yes," she said. "I woke when Tilly came in a moment ago."
"She did?" Harry asked, looking around as she nodded against his chest. At the sight of the tray near them, Harry's stomach grumbled. Ginny laughed again, and then rolled her shoulders back before stretching her arms as she sat-up with a satisfying yawn. The two of them detangled. Ginny made her way to the bathroom as Harry moved the food to the table. Ginny was surprised when she returned to find that both mugs had disappeared when she returned, replaced by glasses of cider instead.
"What happened to the–"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "The hot chocolate?" he questioned. "I figured it would be best if I vanished it, and replaced it with this. Was I wrong?" His eyebrow was still raised and Ginny realized that she was caught.
"Did Hermi–"
"No," Harry shook his head. "I saw the look on your face when you opened your gift this morning. I figured you might still have a few sensitivities? If you'd prefer something else, I can see what else is stocked in the cupboards."
Ginny shook her head and sat down next to him. They enjoyed their quiet Christmas dinner, cider included, before heading back to their room for the night, Ginny wondering what might have happened between Hermione and Neville after they had fallen asleep.
She woke the next morning to a quiet tapping on the bedroom door. Afraid to mutter "come-in" in case it was one of her brothers, she sat up and headed for the door, grabbing a dressing gown on her way to make sure that no one caught sight of her slight baby bump.
"Good morning Ms. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey announced as Ginny opened the door. "Forgive the intrusion, but I wanted to get started on you and Mr. Potter's physicals right away this morning so you can enjoy the day."
Ginny nodded. She wasn't necessarily looking forward to a full morning of tests and whatnot—she really had no idea what a physical for a pregnant woman entailed—but she was looking on the bright side to the end result of her, Harry and their baby getting a clean bill of health.
"Why don't you wake your roommate and join me out in the common area? Your sleep clothes are fine—actually they're probably best, both comfy and loose—and we'll get started," the matron said.
Ginny listened as she was given additional instructions like not using the loo or eating for the most accurate test results, but it hadn't escaped her that she had gone from shocked and angry at their rooming situation the day before to making jokes about it the next day.
"...And after that you can join your family for Boxing Day!"
Ginny smiled and nodded at the woman, turning to fetch Harry for their morning of tests.
Harry did not envy Ginny. He already felt terrible at how much longer she had been tortured compared to him—well, that she had been tortured at all. It made him sick to think of her being injured for a day, let alone almost two years. Now, all that extra time under various curses and beatings PLUS her pregnancy meant that the hospital matron was paying extra attention.
Harry had been given a standard physical, plus some extra tests to check his various nutrition levels and a full body scan to make sure that all of his bones had healed properly and wouldn't affect him in the long run. He was done and munching on a scone in under an hour. Ginny was still going with Pomfrey, and Harry could have sworn she had already run some of her tests more than once and was repeating herself to double and triple check the results. (He himself condoned this prudence, but he could see that Ginny was getting annoyed and hangry.)
After what had to have been the third full body scan under the matron's wand, this one focusing on her muscles—the last apparently having been on her organs, and the one before that on her bones—Ginny finally lost it.
"ENOUGH!" she shouted, her outburst causing her magic to pulse a bit and send a few hovering pieces of parchment and instruments across the room. Harry's seeker reflexes allowed him to catch one item that came flying at him, but winced as a quill smacked Pomfrey in the forehead.
Madam Promfrey simply gave Ginny a small smile in return, waving her wand to fetch her equipment. "Well your hormone levels are just fine it seems," she said, making a note.
Ginny glowered in response. "I'm fine," she replied through gritted teeth. "But your collection of hovering nuisances," she motioned to all of the equipment that was again flocking around herself, "aren't going to survive the morning if I'm not allowed to at least eat soon!"
"Alright," the mediwitch replied. "Go ahead and eat. I think I've run every blood test I can think of."
Harry laughed, but quickly silenced himself when Ginny shot him a glare before opening her hand and summoning his own pastry right from his clutches. "Hey!"
"Don't start with me Potter!" she said, her mouth already full.
Madam Pomfrey shuffled through the documents in front of her, humming to herself as Tilly gathered up the equipment they had moved into the room for the morning. "It pains me to say it," she said—Harry held his breath, thinking there might be bad news coming. "That woman who cared for you? She did manage to keep you from long-term physical damage. There's bound to be some psychological side-effects to what you both endured, which we'll keep an eye out for and can always call in a specialist if needed, but for now, minus needing some extra nutritional supplements, you'll all be fine."
Harry almost questioned her use of "all" to describe the two of them, but then remembered that Ginny was pregnant. It was going to take some getting used to, being referred to in such a plural. "How's the baby?" he asked, knowing Ginny would have beat him to the punch if she wasn't working on her second pastry.
"Your baby by my tests is doing very well. Based on what you described, it would seem that they started lightening up on Ms. Weasley's physical torture as soon as it was evident that your evening activities might result in a pregnancy." Harry had to physically bite his tongue to keep from laughing at her innuendo. "Tilly and I will keep an eye on things. I'll need to see if I can dig up some of the old visual equipment from the last pregnancy we had in the castle, so we can take a closer look and make sure everything is developing properly–"
"Closer look?" Ginny interrupted. "You mean be able to see the baby?"
Harry's interest was piqued. He'd seen articles in muggle newspapers he snuck from the rubbish pile talking about the latest ultrasound technology, a "4d ultrasound", had debuted a few years prior and was allowing women to take more detailed videos of their unborn babies. It was almost as big of a deal as Dolly, the sheep they had successfully cloned the year before. But ultrasounds required electricity, and that tended not to do well around magic.
"Yes," Pomfrey replied. "I need a pensieve-like device to act as a display, but you'll be able to see an image of your baby."
Ginny lit up and Harry could have sworn she was actually glowing, and her excitement was contagious. It was a truly exciting moment and the first thing to look forward to after the disastrous day before. Plus, after so much time in captivity it was hard not to be excited.
"Now," Pomfrey continued. "Based on these results, Tilly and I will adapt your meals accordingly, including keeping a good stock of appropriate snacks here for you to eat as required. Good news is Ms. Weasley that traveling to your classes will provide you with plenty of physical activity—but I don't want you participating in any other activities."
"Excuse me?" Ginny stopped eating and looked at the woman like she had two heads. Harry braced himself, scooting back from Ginny and looking for something to shield himself from flying silverware.
"No. Other. Activities," she reiterated slowly. "That includes quidditch, or flying of any kind."
"But–"
"Ms. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey spoke gently, taking the seat next to her and picking up one of the few remaining items that hadn't been blown off the table. "You'll want to try to remain calm and control your outbursts. Your magic will only increase as your hormone levels increase." Harry moved closer as Ginny made a gentle hrumpf which the older woman chose to ignore and continue. "I know it's not fair, but it really isn't good for your baby if you're stressed and your blood pressure rises. Not to mention," she said, twirling her finger a bit in the air, "if you don't want the rest of the castle figuring things out before you're ready, you'll want to keep a damper on your outbursts."
Ginny took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Harry matched her breathing: In, out. In, out. When Madam Pomfrey gave her a small satisfied smile, Ginny returned it. As much as Harry knew it annoyed and angered her to be placed under restrictions of any kind, she seemed to understand.
"I know this is a lot to take in all at once," Pomfrey said, trying to both comfort and praise Ginny's efforts as Harry squeezed her hand in support.
Ginny sighed deeply, squeezing Harry's Hand in return. "I'm sorry for my outburst," Ginny said slowly. "I'll try my best to keep them under control."
"Good. That's all I ask," the older Witch replied with a wink. "Now, the rest of the castle should be gathered in the Great Hall for lunch if you'd like to join them. If talk was correct your older brothers have been assembling a student versus alumni game of quidditch—Deep breaths, Ginny. You can't play, but you can watch. If Mr. Potter here plays seeker against your brother Charlie… it's going to be one hell of a match and if it were me, I'd rather watch that from the stands than be distracted playing."
Harry winced as Ginny's grip on his hand grew tighter, but said nothing.
"Quit it Potter," Ginny said.
"Quit what?"
Ginny stopped on the landing and turned to look at him. "Quit looking at me like that."
Harry turned to her, and she almost laughed at the genuine stupefied look on his face. "Like what?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated and unsure if he was playing dumb or genuinely didn't know. Perhaps he didn't even realize he was glancing at her every few steps as they made their way to the Great Hall. "Like I might explode at the slightest breeze."
Taking her hand, he gently kissed it. "I'm sorry," he said, their hands still clasped together but returned to their sides. "It's hard not to try to protect you."
"You and that savior complex," she joked, smiling as she squeezed his hand and resumed their journey down the stairs. "One of these days it's going to get you kidnapped and tortured."
He stopped mid step, his hand tugging her backward from the sudden halt. She turned back to him to see why he stopped, and her heart skipped a beat at the genuine pain she saw written on his face.
"Too soon?" she asked, trying to emphasize her joke.
He didn't respond.
He opened his mouth to try to say something, but closed it. His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, and another. His grip on her hand tightened.
This time it was Ginny's turn to apologize. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said softly, kissing his knuckles to ease his grip. She brought their entwined hands to her chest, reaching up to stroke his tightened jaw with her other thumb.
He wrapped his free arm around her to bring her closer, his cheek resting on her head. "Please don't joke about that Gin," he whispered.
"You know I was kidding, right?" She asked softly.
He sighed, his warm breath tickling her neck. He held her there for another minute, and she could feel his jaw clenching and releasing as he struggled to speak.
"Talk to me Harry," she said, moving back to look at him. "Please? My magic may be supercharged, but that doesn't suddenly make me a Legilimens."
She watched as he took another deep breath.
"I'm not a hero, Gin," he said.
"What are you on about?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm no hero or savior," he said, pausing briefly. "If I really was a hero, I wouldn't have waited to go after you that night. Hell, I wouldn't have waited to ask you to the ball afraid of what your brother would say. I was a coward. I waited for Hermione to give me an excuse to ask you—I should have just asked from the start."
She smiled. His guilt, although clearly misplaced, was endearing and adorable. "You are a hero Harry," she said. "You may not see it, you may not want it, but you are. You're my hero." He tried to turn away but she reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand and forced him to hold her gaze. "And until I can even the score and save your life for a change, you'll continue to be my hero."
Harry smiled, and then started laughing at her.
"What?" she asked, genuinely surprised at his complete turn about.
"You're really corny, you know that?"
She laughed with him as they descended the last flight leading to the Great Hall. "Shut it, Potter."
Ginny's footsteps faltered slightly as she stepped into the Great Hall. The room, while not nearly as bustling as it would be when term resumed and all of the students returned, felt overwhelmingly crowded. To her it had been almost two years since she last stepped foot inside the hall, and had since been trapped in the solitude of captivity isolated from the world she once knew with only a few Death Eaters and Harry for company.
Stepping back into the embrace of the Great Hall brought both relief and a surge of anxiety. Her eyes scanned the assembled faces, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. She thought her ability to get through their party the day before meant that she would be fine venturing out to the Great Hall today but every voice seemed amplified, every movement magnified. The once familiar and comforting sounds of the Great Hall now reverberated through her senses, threatening to overwhelm her. The sudden influx of people, their voices blending into an incomprehensible dissonance, contrasted with the solitude of her captivity. But as much as the noise amped her anxiety, the sudden silence of the small gathering of students, family and alumni was more grating.
As she walked alongside Harry, her fingers tightly entwined with his, her anxiety manifested in subtle ways. She adjusted the collar of her Weasley jumper, the fabric feeling strangely constricting against her skin. While the added bulk it provided perfectly hid her secret, the weight of that secret—the precious life growing within her—added an additional layer of complexity to her unease.
Ginny's eyes flitted nervously around the room, scanning the faces of her friends and family. Her brothers, usually a source of comfort, now seemed distant and unfamiliar. Could they tell? Did her sweater hide her small bump like she intended it to? Or would they be able to see it. The once effortless banter and shared laughter felt like distant echoes. The weight of the unspoken words hung heavily in the air, creating a barrier that seemed impossible to breach. Even though they were fine yesterday, today seemed like her first day outside of the small house in the woods.
With every step she took, Ginny's hands trembled, the echoes of her captivity reverberating through her being. The voices around her morphed into a blur of indistinguishable sounds, merging into a disorienting symphony. Her breath quickened, her chest tightening as she fought to steady herself and climb over the bench to take a seat at the table between Harry and Neville.
Harry squeezed her hand, pushing a plate towards her that suspiciously held all choices from the foods that Madam Pomfrey had recommended.
Steeling herself, Ginny desperately attempted to seek solace in the familiar routine of the Great Hall, deliberately focusing on the mundane tasks at hand: she mechanically reached for her knife and fork, their cold, heavy weight grounding her in the present moment. The act of peeling the chicken off the bone became a delicate distraction, a way to channel her restless energy—not to mention keeping her hands from absently traveling down to pull at her jumper.
Catching Hermione's pointed stare, Ginny put more effort into following as the topic of conversation naturally shifted to the upcoming student vs. alumni Boxing Day quidditch match. The atmosphere crackled with excitement and anticipation, though an underlying tension lingered beneath their interactions as her brothers tried to keep both her and Ron in the conversation.
Charlie, with his enthusiasm for the sport, leaned forward, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Your team won't stand a chance, Ron! I'll be the one to catch that snitch for the alumni team."
Ginny watched as Ron, his competitive spirit ignited, smirked confidently. "We'll see about that, Charlie! When's the last time you've played? I practiced all summer PLUS making the team this year. I won't let anything past me."
"Ha!" Fred laughed. "You do know he spends his days goin' round and round with dragons, right?"
George chimed in, a wide grin stretching across his face. "Plus," he said, "While Charlie and Harry are probably evenly matched, we'll be providing some expert bludger distractions to tip the scales in the alumni's favor."
Ron's competitive fire burned brighter at their taunts, his pride as a Weasley Keeper driving him forward. "Bring it on! I'll show you what I'm made of."
Ginny was about to interject with a snide comment but Hermione, ever the voice of reason, interjected with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Technically, Fred and George," she interrupted, "you didn't graduate, so you're technically not alumni… so shouldn't you be playing for the student team?"
"Huh," Ginny said, "that's a fair point."
Fred raised an eyebrow at his sister, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Ah, but Hermione, as we may not have finished our NEWTs we did sit a few–and thanks to the fantastic elimination of that hag by your centaur friends, we were never officially expelled either…"
"So we're honorary alumni, aren't we?" George finished.
Hermione's lips pursed in a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "I suppose. But still, it seems a bit unfair, doesn't it?"
Bill, who had been listening attentively, finally spoke up. "The spirit of this match lies in celebrating the connection between the alumni and the current students. It's about fostering a sense of camaraderie and sharing our love for Quidditch."
"Says one of the few Weasley's that don't play the game," Hermione countered.
Neville, sitting nearby, nodded in agreement. "Bill's right, this is supposed to be a friendly game. Maybe it should be played without beaters at all?"
Harry chimed in, "So, a friendly match with what? Extra chasers instead of beaters?"
"That's not a bad idea," Charlie said, ignoring the pained faces of the twins. "Good thinking Neville. What do you think, Gin? Think you can take on the likes of Fred and George as chasers?"
Ginny froze as the conversation finally turned her way and she was forced to join in. "That will be up to the others," she said through gritted teeth, steeling herself. "Pomfrey grounded me."
"Everything okay Gin?" Bill asked.
"Pomfrey gave me a mostly clean bill of health," she responded. "Just a lingering concussion that she's being over protective about."
"Better safe than sorry," Harry chimed in.
"What about you Harry?" Charlie asked. "Will we get to go head to head?"
Harry nodded, squeezing Ginny's leg under the table in quiet support. "Oh yeah," he said. "And with Ginny cheering me on from the stands I can't lose!"
As the conversation continued, the talk turned to tales of past matches. As they teased one another in jest, the twins compared the various Gryffindor house teams they had witnessed and played with during their overlapping years with almost everyone involved in the game at the table until it was time to break apart to grab their warmer cloaks and head down to the pitch.
While most of the family headed down to grab gear and split into teams, Bill joined Ginny, Hemrione and Neville in the stands.
"Gin," he said after she settled in next to Hermione and Neville for the start of the match, "I hope you know that Mum will come around."
Ginny stiffened at the mention of her mother. "I honestly couldn't care," she said, trying to focus on the action on the ground as the players gathered on the ground below to hash out positions and rules for the game. She watched as a graduate waved his wand amongst the assembled players and charmed their various jumpers and jackets into two distinctly colored teams.
As the players commanded their brooms to attention, Ginny searched for Harry, her body and mind relaxing as his gaze fell upon her. They were too far apart to really see each other clearly, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze.
"Ginny–"
"Look Bill," Ginny said, interrupting her brother as definitively as he had interrupted her silent, distant conversation with Harry. "I know you mean well, but Mum has made her opinion very clear, and until she's ready to apologize for how she treated both me and Harry, then we're at an impasse."
"Ginny, please–"
"Mister Weasley!" a voice called from behind.
Ginny turned to see Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall taking seats in the stands off to the side of her brother.
"Correct me if I'm wrong but you're one of the few Weasley's not to play the sport in your Hogwarts days?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
"You're correct," the wizard responded. "Just myself and Percy didn't play during our school days."
"Fascinating! I would have thought the skills of quidditch would translate well to your occupation as a curse breaker."
As Bill turned his entire body, engaging in the conversation, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief and silently prayed that the two Hogwarts matrons kept her brother occupied for the entire match. Hermione looked as though she wanted to comment, but gratefully was interrupted by the start of the match.
The pitch hummed with excitement as the teams took their positions, the anticipation palpable. The vibrant colors of the players' robes clashed against the snowy December backdrop.
As the match unfolded, Ginny's eyes darted across the field, searching for Harry's nimble figure on the broomstick. The exhilaration of the game mingled with her anxiety for his safety, a constant reminder of the fragile life growing within her. She felt a pang of sadness at being sidelined, her competitive spirit yearning to be a part of the action.
The stands erupted with cheers and gasps as the match reached its climax. The Weasley brothers—Fred and George to be specific—displayed their exceptional skills (even if their more destructive ways were toned down for this match) making it challenging for the student team to gain ground. Ron was doing a fair job as keeper but the twins were just as precise in their aim with the quaffle as they were with a bludger and bat. The alumni were in the lead!
As the time limit the group had agreed upon was approaching, the snitch made itself present. Harry weaved through the opposing team, evading a well thrown quaffle and expertly maneuvering towards the snitch. Charlie was closing in from the other side of the pitch. He was closer, but Harry was faster! The two were neck-and-neck in what from the stands appeared would be a disastrous game of chicken if one of the two seekers didn't pull up.
Finally, with a burst of speed and determination, Harry's hand closed around the snitch, securing a hard-fought victory for the students. Ginny jumped up and shouted along as the crowd erupted into jubilant cheers, applause reverberating through the air. The defeat of the alumni team was a testament to Harry's prowess and the indomitable spirit of the students.
Ginny waited patiently, giving plenty of space between herself and her brother, before joining the queue from the stands down to the ground to congratulate Harry, and Ron too she supposed. He did manage a few impressive blocks that were either latent talent or "sheer dumb luck" as Professor McGonnagal would say. As she descended the spiral staircase, she was actually relieved that she wasn't up there flying. Just being in the stands had given her vertigo (damn hormones!) and even the walk down the stairs had her gripping the banister a little harder than normal.
Reaching the ground, she turned away from the flow of bodies making their way back towards the castle to warm up and headed towards the field. Ginny rolled her eyes upon seeing her eldest brother waiting a few steps away, her attempt to avoid the conversation from before the game started by dilly dallying thwarted.
Before she could muster her Gryffindor courage, a sudden commotion in the direction of the field caught his attention. "Saved by the bell," Ginny muttered as Hermione and Neville caught up.
"What do you think–" Hermione started, but raised voices and shouts interrupted her question.
Bill and Ginny's heads whipped back towards the pitch as the unmistakable sounds of Weasley anger became louder. The two took off towards the shouts, and Ginny gasped as they entered the pitch to spot Harry on the ground with Ron standing over him and the other players rushing towards the two from where they were landing nearby.
Ginny sprinted towards her brothers, her eyes taking in the scene of Charlie standing protectively over Harry, who was doubled over and laying on the ground while Fred and George worked to hold back Ron. Her eyes locked with Charlie's, searching for answers. "What happened?" she demanded, her voice laced with worry and frustration.
Charlie let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation etched on his face. "I don't know," he said. "I only caught the tail end of it, but it looked like Ron attacked Harry," he explained, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I don't know exactly what set him off, but Harry was landing and Ron just came up behind him and knocked him clear off his broom."
"Harry?" she asked, kneeling beside him.
Ginny's heart sank. She wished she could take a page from a romance novel and declare that the pain of the fractured bonds within her family was taking its toll, but in that moment—as much as she wanted to hex one or more of her brothers—Harry was her only focus.
She kneeled down, gently grasping Harry's uninjured hand as Charlie cast a quick field diagnostic he was taught at the dragon reserve to make sure it was safe to move someone after a fall. As he worked, Bill & Hermione ushered the remaining spectators and players back to the castle.
Ginny tried to mask her anger and project some calm towards Harry. "You'll be just fine," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she tried to get herself under control.
Harry winced as he laughed. "With you as my nurse," he said, "I'm sure I'll be just fine."
"Keep it in your pants, Potter," Charlie said, wrapping up his diagnostic charm, "that's my sister."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whatever Charlie," she said. "Are we good to go?"
"Mostly got the wind knocked out of him, but his arm is definitely fractured. Pomfrey will need to check to make sure it's not worse, but should be a quick fix."
"Great," Harry muttered as Charley helped him to his feet, "just what I wanted today…another reason for Pomfrey to fuss over me."
"Please," Ginny said remembering her much lengthier checkup that morning. "You'll be out before dinner."
Making sure he didn't need assistance walking back, Ginny hovered at Harry's side, silently counting backwards from 100 with each step of the way so she didn't accidentally throw the youngest of her brothers around the entrance hall with her supercharged magic. She smiled to herself as she imagined doing just that, but quickly steeled her expression when Charlie glanced back towards the pair.
'This isn't over, Ron,' she thought to herself.