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SIYE Time:15:14 on 29th March 2024
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Bonds of Blood and Magic
By Duelist

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Severus Snape
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence/Physical Abuse
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 932
Summary: A few days before Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry vanished. Two weeks later, Ginny disappeared, also alone and without a trace.

Someone has stepped out of the shadows for a moment, moved some pieces on the board, and changed the rules of the game.
Hitcount: Story Total: 406665; Chapter Total: 15299
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
My goodness, has it really been since Christmas?

Yep. Happy Easter!

Internet service went down, computer crashed and burned. Kept writing anyway, and now I am sitting huddled over my (rebuilt) antique laptop in my car, in a wifi hotspot, dutifully posting the first of the chapters I've written in my absence.

Enjoy!

To be loved deeply gives one strength; to love another deeply gives one courage - Lao Tzu

There is no magic stronger than love, despite anything you may believe otherwise.




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“J-july?” Molly sputtered incredulously. Her mouth worked soundlessly for several moments before she finally closed it and clutched at her chest with both of her hands.

“Oh.” Muriel blinked several times. “Well. There should be no real urgency, then,” she continued as she leaned forward and peered at them, as though checking the truth of their words. “But you say that you aren’t pregnant. Why ever not?” she asked in a very curious tone. “You should be well on your way, even starting to show a bit by now. It’s certainly been long enough!”

“I take a potion,” Ginny explained rather deliberately. She took a deep breath as she tried to get her emotions under control. She was absolutely mortified. Her mother’s aunt, the matriarch of her extended family, instead of talking about the single-most important event of her life as though it were something wonderful, instead of celebrating it with her, was interrogating her on whether or not she and her husband were getting enough sex. And her mother? She seemed about to have a heart attack over the whole situation.

Harry was furious, as well as embarrassed, and the resulting, nearly overpowering hot fire of his emotions felt to Ginny as though it flowed into her like a river of molten lava, which made staying calm nearly impossible. He was no longer leaning on her as heavily, however, and she suspected that his anger was fueling more than just his emotions as he glared out the window.

Ginny gritted her teeth and continued focusing on her breathing. She had to stay as calm as possible, because, knowing her mother, if she acted on any of her or Harry’s current feelings, it would, at best, likely result in a disastrous emotional explosion.

After a few moments, she felt like she had a tighter leash on herself, so she turned to fully face her mother and took a step towards her. Harry dropped his hands to her hips as she moved away.

“I knew you’d be upset. I just knew it,” she said bitterly, in a quiet, low voice.

“When in July?” Molly demanded. “Before or after you both vanished?” Without giving them time to answer, she hissed, “Did you plan this?!?!”

Ginny felt Harry’s power surge and nearly break loose. His control only slipped a bit, but the curtains over the window stirred and flipped alarmingly. Ginny turned away from her mother as she stepped back to Harry and took both of his hands. She looked up at his stormy face, and silently pleaded for him to regain control.

He stopped glaring out the window and turned his face back to Ginny’s. The spike of power started to recede slightly when he did, and seemed to calm even more when she rested her head on his chest. After a moment or two there, she turned her head and quietly asked, “Can we sit down, please?” Not waiting for a reply, she drew her wand, conjured a copy of Harry’s favorite chair and ottoman, and helped him sit down before turning to face her mother again, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“Of course. Why don’t we all sit down and discuss this civilly,” Muriel said calmly as she pulled a chair out from the table. Nod promptly brought her a cup of tea.

Molly looked at Muriel incredulously before she turned back to study Ginny. “Explain this to me. What have you done?” she demanded, her face flushed with anger at the sight of her daughter’s defiant pose.

Ginny conjured a chair behind her mother, and then ignored her as she walked to the sink, grabbed a clean glass, filled it with water, and returned to Harry. With a wave of her wand, a straw appeared in the glass as she handed it to him. She turned to look at her mother who was still standing, mouth agape, and then simply sat on the ottoman next to Harry’s feet, who slid them to the side a bit to accommodate her. She waited until Molly sat down before speaking.

“Planned? Are you serious? Mum, we got kidnapped! Of course, we didn’t plan it!” she said, gesturing a bit in front of her with her hands. “I’m sixteen, for Merlin’s sake! We just had to … Do you really think that I planned … We didn’t actually do anything, not really, and we didn’t have much choice about it when it happened, anyway, not any of it. Much as I’ve always loved Harry, I … Mum, we’d only gone out for a couple of months. We weren’t any more ready to get married than you think we were. We’ve been married longer than we ever dated!” Unconsciously, she picked up Harry’s left foot and began rubbing his leg just above his ankle.

“I think it’s assumed that, if you slice your hand open, or let somebody else do it to you, and then grasp bloody hands with another someone over a Druid altar, and after all of that, sit still through twenty minutes of very intense spell-casting, you at least gave your consent to participate in the ceremony,” Muriel pointed out.

“Well, you know what they say about assuming things,” Harry muttered.

Ginny slapped his leg lightly. “Well, first of all, I didn’t know what the Death Eater who had just kidnapped me was doing at the time, but I followed his instructions, yes. He was holding us at wand-point! Secondly, I was rather busy keeping Harry from falling on the ground. He was in rather bad shape, since he’d just spent two weeks being tortured by them, after all.”

Both women stared at Ginny and what they could see of Harry behind her.

“A Death Eater? A Death Eater did this?!” asked Molly, fury growing in her voice.

“Yes, Mum. A Death Eater. He helped us escape,” Ginny replied quietly.

“Who did this? Who is this man, this Death Eater?” Molly demanded, spitting her words like venomous curses. She rose from her seat and slammed her teacup onto the table, shattering the porcelain. “He’s stolen my daughter!”

“Marianne,” Muriel snapped with a sharp glare as she grabbed Molly’s hand and pulled her back toward her seat.

“That man betrayed Voldemort, hid us from him, and saved your daughter’s life! Mine, too!” Harry growled in a low voice. “Stop acting like she’s dead, or as though something terrible has happened to her. She’s right here.” His eyes smoldered with a dark inner light as his gaze drilled into Molly’s.

“That’s not what I … I didn’t …” Molly stuttered as she shrank away from his glare. “Harry, it’s just that … You’re just so young. This shouldn’t be happening, not to either of you.”

Harry gently pushed Ginny’s ottoman out from in front of his chair as he sat up, lowered his legs to the floor, and leaned forward. “Happening? Mrs Weasley, it’s already happened. And we just have to live with it. But, we’re not about to start cursing the circumstances that brought us together. We’re happy, and we want you to be happy for us. For some reason, I was under the impression that being your son-in-law would be wonderful. If you think this whole thing is so horrible, then perhaps we were mistaken to think that it was a good idea to come here and trust you with this.”

He summoned their bag with a wave of his hand. It flew from under the table by the wall, and he guided it to the floor by their feet with a gentle twist of his wrist.

“No! You can’t go,” Molly protested, a note of panic in her voice.

Harry looked at her incredulously as he pulled his wand and summoned their coats. Nothing came, even after he verbally cast the charm with a more definite flick to his wand, though his chair slid several inches toward the west wall of the kitchen.

Harry glared balefully at Molly after that.

“Harry,” Ginny said quietly, pushing at his chest to get his attention, “we’re not leaving. Not yet.”

Harry took Ginny’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “Perhaps not,” he whispered in her ear. “But I’m not going without my coat for the rest of our visit just to reassure your mum,” he said as he turned back to her mother. “Our coats, please,” he insisted in a moderate, even voice.

“No. Don’t go. Please. You just got here, you’ve just … I … you can’t. Please,” Molly entreated.

Harry moved as though to respond, but Ginny softly covered his mouth with her hand before he could say anything.

“Mum, we are married. I’m not making this up,” Ginny insisted. “We were married the same day that I was kidnapped.”

“This can’t be legal. She’s underage,” Molly said as she turned pleadingly to Muriel.

“Legal? Hah.” Muriel snorted as she smirked and shook her head a bit. “Well … it’s binding. It doesn’t really matter about their ages, since they’re both old enough under the old ways. It’s a handfasting. That’s what it is really, a permanent and binding handfasting. Kind of has to be, considering the consequences of trying to separate a couple who’ve been married this way. No question about it. Only one ritual gives that scar, or shows … well, now that I know to look for it, I can see it from here. They’re bonded, plain and simple. Boy, who was it?” she demanded, turning her focus back to Harry. “Who dared touch my niece?”

“Can it be un-done? Aunt Muriel, you’re … can’t you fix this?”

Muriel snorted again, scoffing. “Not a bit of it. There’s nothing to be fixed. Didn’t I just say there were consequences for trying to separate them? I tell you, Marianne, there’s nothing to be done but to accept it.” She emphasized her last sentence with forceful taps on the tabletop. “Damn foolish idea to even try separating them. Some things, once they’re done, can’t be undone. Once the spells were cast, their blood and magic mixed and united. They’re one now, bonded, married. It’s done and permanent. Death can’t part them, nothing can.” She sighed. “Truth to tell, it doesn’t matter who cast it, really, but I’d still like to know who had the audacity, the gall, to touch one of mine this way. Who does the man think he is? I am the High Priestess! If I actually wanted one of mine bonded, I’d have done it myself!”

“Would you have done it?” Molly asked tremulously. Ginny’s focus shifted from watching her mother’s face to Muriel’s in an instant.

“I … I don’t know,” she replied hesitantly, with a thoughtful look on her face as she met Ginny’s steady gaze. “I’ve not done but two in all my years, and I wouldn’t do another without a better reason than I had for the first.” She stared at Harry for a moment then. “I was young, and not very experienced with all the rituals we use. This one …” she said thoughtfully, and paused to think. “I’ve only used it as a fertility ritual.” She snorted, and laughed. “Works, too. First couple had nine babies in twelve years. Hadn’t managed a one, the ten years they were together before that. Took them more than a minute to convince me to do it, but I was glad for them, in the end. Second couple had the same kind of reason, but …” she trailed off with a shudder.

“What happened to the second couple?” asked Harry quietly.

“They wanted a baby, and asked me to do the bonding as I’d done for the other. Well, they weren’t committed enough, or powerful enough, or … I don’t know what caused it, really. Doesn’t matter. The point is, they died during the ritual, right out there in that stone circle, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. Once I started the spells, I had to finish it, or I’d have joined them.

“They’d have been better off adopting, or just … really enjoying each other, and hoping for the best, which is what I’ve told every couple that’s come to me since. It’s not worth the risk, just as a fertility aid.”

“Fertility? But she said …” Molly stuttered, looking back to Ginny and Harry with her hand at her throat.

“Mum! I … am … not … pregnant,” Ginny said slowly, in an exasperated tone.

“Why, then? What could have possessed him to do something like this?” Molly demanded.

“It keeps us hidden from Tom, Mum. That is more than reason enough,” Ginny responded with an intense look as she moved from the ottoman to join Harry in the chair.

“Tom?” Muriel questioned.

Harry took Ginny’s hand and pulled her onto his lap when she was about to sit on the arm of the chair as he replied, “Voldemort,” in a short, clipped voice.

Muriel nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it would certainly do that. More, truth to tell. Still, the consequences …” She stopped and sighed. “I suppose that desperate times do sometimes require desperate measures.”

Molly shuddered. Her eyes turned red as her lip started to quiver, just looking at Harry and Ginny, and then the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Muriel studied the two teens, and took a sip of her tea. “You’re young … far too young for me to have chanced it for any reason, even if you’d asked. He shouldn’t have done it. Still,” she sniffed, “you are, obviously, quite alive.”

Ginny blanched at the thought of all that could have gone wrong, all that they still didn’t know. “Of course, we’re alive,” she stuttered. “Erm, it was very tiring. I … I don’t really remember how long it took, but we’re fine,” she said reassuringly. “Really, we’re fine. And we like being married.” She reached for Harry’s hand and smiled at him. He smiled back at her a bit stiffly, and took her hand. His smile faded as soon as his eyes left Ginny’s and looked back at Molly and Muriel.

“Well, of course you do!” Muriel exclaimed in a much more jovial tone. “This wouldn’t have worked if you weren’t completely committed to each other. You’ll be the happiest couple of your age, unless I miss my guess. Marianne,” she said, turning to her niece as she once again thumped the table with her open hand, “You need to relax. It’s done, they’re here, and weren’t you just saying last night that you only hoped that they were safe? Well, here they are, safe as can be!”

“Why did you wait so long? Why didn’t you just tell us?” Molly asked as she wiped at her eyes.

“We wanted to. Mum, I … I wanted to tell you myself, in person. We came as soon as we could.”

“Why not tell us at breakfast, then?” she said impatiently. “Or when you first came through the door!”

“Well, we were waiting for dinner,” said Ginny in a subdued voice, “because George and Charlie weren’t here. Then, we thought that we should tell you and dad first, so we decided to tell you as soon as he got back. But then, Auntie saw …”

Charlie opened the door from the hallway, and asked curiously, “What’s going on? What’s with all the yelling? I tried to ask Miranda but she just waved me off and pointed in here. What has Fred done now? And why is Hermione in trouble? Miranda is really giving it to them both.” As he moved around the back of Harry’s chair, he saw Harry and Ginny.

“Oh, Ginny, wow! Fred said you might come. Glad you made it all right!” He stepped toward them and gave Ginny an awkward hug. He gave Harry an odd, measuring look before he slapped Harry’s shoulder, and stepped back. “Thanks for bringing her back, Harry. Mum’s just been going spare about the two of you. Who’d have thought you’d both be kidnapped, and end up escaping together, eh? That’s got to be quite the story.”

He walked over to Molly and kissed her cheek saying, “Morning, Mum, Auntie.” He nodded to Muriel. An awkward silence filled the kitchen after Charlie stopped speaking. None of them had moved, or really acknowledged his comments, though Ginny had briefly returned his hug.

After a few moments, Charlie, confused, said, “Well, erm, I guess, I’ll just … go see if Ron left me any breakfast.” He walked off toward the dining room, looking over his shoulder at the four people in the kitchen.

“We’ve had a bit of a shock, but we didn’t forget you,” Muriel chided from her seat. “Your plate is on the sideboard in there.”

Charlie stopped at the door to the dining room and looked back at the occupants of the kitchen with concern. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Muriel reassured him, “well … Ron’s got a bit of a concussion, but Ginny fixed him up and he’ll be moving about in time for dinner.”

Charlie blinked and looked to Molly for clarification. She made no comment but made a disapproving sound and worriedly rubbed her hands together.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Eat your breakfast, Charles. Later, I’ll need you to move up to the attic with the twins for the night,” Muriel instructed.

Charlie’s mouth fell open, and he stared at Harry and Ginny.

“Go on, now. I’m sure they’ll fill you in later.”

Charlie didn’t move for a moment, but then finally pushed open the door and left the kitchen.

Ginny watched the door swing closed then stood up from Harry’s lap and pushed him back into the chair when he started to stand up with her. She pulled the ottoman closer and set his legs back on it with a smirk. He rolled his eyes and sank back, sighing silently as his back relaxed into the chair.

She pulled her wand and waved it as she held out her left arm expectantly. Their coats finally appeared, hanging over her arm. She carefully folded them into the rucksack as she said, while shaking her head, “The Burrow? Really, Mum?”

Molly blushed and looked flustered. “Don’t go,” she whispered again.

“We’re not leaving until tomorrow, so … just relax. Alright?” She looked back and forth between her mother and Harry. Though it didn’t show on his face, Harry’s anger was completely dissipated, and now he felt only a bit of general irritation mingled with amusement at Ginny’s antics. She took a deep breath, ignored the feeling of dread in her stomach, and buried the hurt her mother had caused behind thick walls where it couldn’t touch her, where she hoped even Harry couldn’t tell it was hidden.

“Tomorrow?” Molly asked incredulously.

“Yes, early, just after breakfast. We have an appointment first thing,” Ginny explained.

She winked at Harry as she pulled a few packets of protein powder out of the bag. Then she walked to the dining room door and pushed it open fully.

“Why don’t you come back in here and visit with us while you eat, Charlie?” she called in before turning and heading to the counter. “Do you want more than you’ve got there? I’m making Harry something, anyway. Everyone was asking so many questions at breakfast, he hardly ate anything.”

Molly eyed Harry guiltily at that comment.

Ginny quietly talked to herself as she moved about the kitchen. “I’ve not actually tried this without a Muggle machine, but as there’s no electricity here,” she shrugged. “It should work,” she finally said while she pulled out her wand.

“Chocolate or berry, Harry?” she asked as she summoned ingredients and materials.

“Both,” he replied. “Hey, Charlie, it’s good to see you. Sorry about earlier, you just …”

“Interrupted something,” Charlie said as he sat down at the table with his plate. The warming charms on it had the food steaming. “Right, I could tell.”

“Yeah,” Harry answered quietly. He glanced over at Molly who had gotten up and walked over to Ginny.

“What are you making?” Molly asked her.

“Erm, well, I’m blending up all of this for a smooth drink, and I was thinking of making scrambled eggs to give him something solid to go with it.”

Molly nodded. She showed Ginny a pair of spells which made making the protein smoothie much easier, and then started making the eggs. Harry turned his attention to Charlie, relieved that the two women seemed to be getting along, or at least had stopped setting each other off.

“So, has anything exciting happened around here lately?” Harry asked.

“Not really,” Charlie answered, once he’d swallowed the bite he was chewing. “Ron and Hermione finally stopped yelling at each other a couple of weeks ago, so the excitement level kind of tapered off, until today anyway. You seem to have brought it in spades. What did I miss?”

“Not much. Ron and Hermione had a fight and … I guess that’s rather routine. Fred punched him. Knocked him out, actually.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Really? Hmmm. So, what about you? Fought any Death Eaters? Made any grand escapes?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “That was months ago, and there really wasn’t much fighting involved. We were just lucky.”

Charlie snorted.

“Really! We’ve just been in hiding,” Harry said blandly, deliberately not thinking about Death Eaters and swordsmen. “Nothing too extraordinary. Erm, what do all of you do, then? You’ve got to be staying busy. Playing much Quidditch?” he asked awkwardly.

“Not really,” Charlie said slowly. “We’re too busy, most days, to do anything like that. Ron likes to take a fly, but there’s not enough of us to put up anything more than two-a-side, and we’d all four have to be free at the same time to do it. Hardly ever happens, really. We don’t have a pitch here, anyway. I take a fly at night sometimes, but it’s just enough to clear my head. Mostly it’s just farm chores and guard duty around here. Now that we’ve relocated the Muggle-born and their families, the Order isn’t doing much but protecting and supplying safe-houses. I know Moody and a few others are doing more than that, but for most us, it’s gotten rather boring.”

Charlie leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out under the table, and laced his hands behind his head. “I’m not complaining, really. It’s important work, just not what you’d call exciting, generally. It’s been too long since I’ve faced down a fire-breathing dragon, I suppose. Even a nice little Welsh Green would be something, if we could find one around here.”

Molly stopped even pretending to pay attention to the skillet on the stove and stared, aghast, at Charlie who was wholly unconscious of his mother’s expression, as his back was to her.

“Been a bit longer for me,” Harry replied. “You couldn’t pay me enough to do that again.”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah, she nearly got you, didn’t she! Wicked fast she is, still. So,” he said, his tone changed, “what are the two of you doing?”

“We study mostly, and practice spells. Not much dueling, but a good bit of spell casting and a lot of physical training. We take a martial arts class and swim. Our weekdays are really full, but it’s mostly the same schedule every week. Almost like school, really. Can get a bit boring, but we’re learning just loads. On weekends, sometimes we play tourist and go tour castles or see famous sites. We’re hiding out in the Muggle world, you see. Pretending we’re Uni students on our honeymoon is good cover.”

Charlie looked between Harry and his mum. “You’re actually married, then? This isn’t just to pretend for the Muggles, or to take the mickey out of us?” he asked with a blank face.

“Oh, erm, of course,” Harry stammered. “We wouldn’t just pretend to be. Erm, actually we were going to tell everyone at dinner, but it came out …”

“Sooner than we planned,” Ginny said, finishing Harry’s thought as she handed him a large glass which had a straw sticking out through the whipped-cream on top. She placed a similar concoction in front of Charlie.

Charlie grabbed her and pulled her into his lap as he tickled her.

“You mean to tell me my ickle baby sister is a married woman?” he asked as he wrestled with her. He grabbed her left hand and studied it while pinning her to his lap.

“What kind of husband are you, Harry?” Charlie asked with a smile that rivaled the twins. “Didn’t you even give her a ring?”

“Let go of me, you great prat,” Ginny demanded as she struggled in his muscular grasp. She punched Charlie’s bicep just above the elbow twice, and finally managed to squirm out of his arms after the second blow, when his arm jerked involuntarily and loosened around her.

“Ow, that hurt!” Charlie complained while she wriggled away. “Bet you didn’t know she was so vicious,” he continued, winking at Harry.

Harry snorted. “Not something I’ve ever had to worry about, but I’ve seen what happens to your brothers sometimes.”

Ginny glared at both of them as she unclasped the necklace from around her neck and jabbed her ring onto her finger.

Charlie’s eyes widened at the sight of the bit of gold. “Erm, wow.” He swallowed a bit. “Well, let’s see it, then,” he continued as he looked at her expectantly.

Ginny took a few steps towards him and held out her hand.

“I can’t see it over there,” Charlie complained when she didn’t get close enough for him to take her hand.

“Well, that’s as close as you’re going to get,” Ginny responded as she turned her back on her brother to let Molly and Muriel examine her ring.

“And you weren’t wearing it, because?” Charlie asked.

“We were trying to break the news gently,” Ginny explained over her shoulder. “Seemed like a good idea,” she murmured to herself as she walked back to the counter. “Bit of a shock for everyone if we just showed up at the door with them on.”

Molly stifled a laugh at Ginny’s commentary. Muriel was not so reserved and laughed out loud.

“Well,” Ginny said more loudly. “It’s no use trying to hide it now. Everyone will know before teatime, anyway.”

Harry nodded and fiddled with his own ring.

“Oh, wow, this is good,” Charlie exclaimed after he finally sampled his drink.

“Would you like some, Mum? Auntie?” Ginny asked as she fingered another pair of glasses.

“I’ll just have a bit, dear, just to taste it,” Muriel answered.

“No, thank you,” Molly said softly as she dished the scrambled eggs onto two plates. She served them to Harry and Charlie and then walked towards the hall door.

“Mum?” Ginny asked, concerned at her suddenly subdued behavior.

Molly just shook her head. “I need to see how Miranda is getting on with those two.”

Ginny exchanged a worried glance with Harry as Molly exited the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, Ginevra,” Muriel said, “she’s had a shock. She’ll be fine. Seeing you whole and healthy is just what she’s needed. She’ll realize that soon enough.”

Ginny nodded woodenly and quickly served Muriel her drink before cleaning the few dishes she and Molly had used. She looked around for something else to do, but Charlie and Harry were still eating and the elves seemed to have the baking well in-hand. The quiet bustle in the warm kitchen should have comforted her, but didn’t.

Feeling a bit out of sorts, she returned to Harry’s lap and stole a long pull of his drink. He smirked at her and wordlessly offered what was left of his eggs. Ginny shook her head and leaned back against him with a sigh.

“Ginny,” Hermione called as she entered the kitchen, “your mum wants your help with Fred. His hand swelled up from earlier. It just needs some ice, or a good cooling charm,” she said, her tone dismissive. “But, she wants you,” she finished in a clipped voice, pink spots apparent high on her cheekbones.

Ginny nodded quickly and kissed Harry before getting up.

“Harry, can I talk to you?” Hermione asked nervously. Harry glanced at Ginny, who nodded encouragingly and offered her hand to help him stand.

Taking a deep breath, Harry mumbled, “Sure,” and stood up carefully. Ginny stopped him briefly to hand him his jacket and give him another kiss before she grabbed their rucksack and left the kitchen.

Harry looked at the map. He’d all but forgotten it in the heated conversation, and as he considered what he was about to step outside to do, he decided that he shouldn’t take it with him. As he passed Charlie, he handed it to him and said, “It’s Miranda’s turn, but she’s been a bit busy. Do you mind?”

Charlie laughed, “Busy? I think that’s an understatement. I’ll watch the map for her, though. You go on.”

“Thanks,” Harry called over his shoulder as he joined Hermione at the door. “Oh, Charlie,” he said as an afterthought, “Ginny and I are … Well, we don’t show up properly on that map.” He stepped out the door and closed it on the sound of Charlie’s muffled curse.

They found a spot in the garden by a tree that wasn’t too far from the house. Shivering slightly in the late fall chill, Harry wandlessly cast a warming charm on himself and another on Hermione just as she started to pull her wand out. He tossed up a silencing charm and a proximity ward for privacy with casual flicks of his fingers before he sat down and leaned back against the tree trunk.

She stared at him, her mouth opened slightly, eyes wide. “How did you …” she began before trailing off.

Harry smiled. “Just a bit of magic, Hermione. We went to school so we could do things like that, you know.”

Hermione blinked at his teasing. “Prat,” she said after a moment.

“Well, you know what they say — you can’t escape your nature,” he said with a smirk. More seriously, he continued, “What can I do for you, Hermione?”

Her gaze hardened. “What can you do? Are you serious? I thought I was your best friend. I want to talk to you. Don’t you think we have anything important to discuss? Maybe some of the things you didn’t want to talk about at breakfast, if nothing else?” she said stiffly, hissing out the last bit.

He turned more toward her with a hard look. “You had no business even hinting about that stuff in public,” Harry said sternly.

“Public?” Hermione demanded. “Public? You said at breakfast that we’re all family.”

“Yes, well,” he gave an exasperated, short sigh, “of course we are. But the rest of the family does not get to know about my little assignment,” he hissed. “You know that.” He paused, and then asked in a bit of an accusing tone, “You haven’t said anything else about it, have you?”

“Of course not!” Hermione yelled furiously. “How could you even think I would?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “After what you said at breakfast? I think that’s pretty obvious. Hermione, you really put me on the spot. I wasn’t ready to …” Harry paused and took a deep breath before continuing more calmly, “I didn’t mean …”

“You didn’t mean to talk to me at all,” Hermione interrupted. “You don’t trust me anymore. You believe Ginny,” she accused.

Harry looked at her and sighed. “Of course, I trust her, Hermione. But you’ve got to … I want to trust you, too. I came outside specifically to talk with you. So, let’s talk.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “You want to talk to me. That’s why you haven’t talked to me for months. That’s why you didn’t come back, because you think that we have so much to talk about.”

“Come on, that’s not fair. I could hardly come back. I was in hospital, you know,” he protested.

“You want to know what’s not fair? To be so worried about you for months, and then find out that you’ve been just fine, touring France and taking it easy, just hanging around with your ex-girlfriend,” she hissed, glaring at him like a Basilisk and daring him to contradict her.

Harry moved as though to interrupt her, but she didn’t even seem to pause for breath.

“And then today, you just walked in here, and you didn’t even want to talk to me. You barely said two words to me, and you’re sticking to Ginny like glue. Have you even gone to the loo by yourself? How pathetic!” she ranted. “You aren’t even going out with her anymore, but you’re following her around like a love-sick prat. She’s not the only person in the world who cares about you!”

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath. “You really ought to let her go, you know. It’s not healthy. And what about the Horcruxes?” she demanded. “What about Voldemort? What about the Death Eaters running Hogwarts?” she asked, punctuating her words several times with a finger-jab to his chest. “You’re acting like we don’t have anything important we need to be doing.”

Harry waited for her to start up again, but she didn’t say any more. Instead, she just stood there stiffly, staring at him.

“Oh, do I get to talk now? I wasn’t sure. I do want to talk to you, but you keep …” he began, but she interrupted him.

“You want to talk? Then why don’t you!? Why haven’t you?” she asked, each word coming faster than the last. “Why did you leave me here? Why did you take her?! Why didn’t you take me with you?”

“What are you on about, Hermione? Are you … are you blaming me? Are you seriously blaming me? Merlin! I got kidnapped!” Harry exploded, his voice as loud as he’d ever yelled during fifth year. “Why do people keep acting like this was my idea? I didn’t take you along because they didn’t exactly ask me if I wanted company! Do you really think I had a choice?

“Or are you blaming Ginny,” he continued, his voice softening measurably, “because you know what? She was kidnapped, too! What did you think happened to us? To me? You think I left you at the Burrow on purpose? You think I wanted all of this to happen? Don’t be an idiot, Hermione! I’m glad you didn’t get snatched up with Ginny, and I’m even more glad that you didn’t get up with me that morning when I got taken!” He ended his rant, pain in his eyes, and turned away from her.

“You’re happy I wasn’t with you?” she asked, hurt in her voice.

He rolled his eyes and took hold of her hand firmly. “Of course, I am. You’ve been safe here. If you’d been with me when I was taken, you’d be dead by now, and I don’t know that I could have handled that.”

“I could have helped you get away,” she insisted, squeezing back on his hand tightly.

Harry pulled his hand free of her grasp and shook it, blinking slightly. “No, you couldn’t have. You’d have been killed ... slowly, painfully, and horribly.” Harry took a deep breath, and then added, “They would have made me watch.”

“But you didn’t come back, and you stayed in France, and I don’t even know where you live now …” Hermione protested softly.

Harry turned his head to the right, gaping in disbelief. “Are you … Hermione, do you hear the words coming out of my mouth? Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, I am.”

“No, you’re not, or you wouldn’t think that I woke up one day after a nice Death Eater torture session and thought, ‘oh, I know, I’ll escape from these fellows, marry the first girl I see, and run away to France for a nice holiday!’ It’s like you’re not hearing half the things I’m saying.”

“You MARRIED her!?!” she squeaked as she jumped to her feet.

He glared at her and held out his left hand, its back toward her, as he pointed at the ring with his right. She looked at the ring, quickly looked back at his face, and closed her open mouth with an audible snap. Her eyes widened in shock as the implications set in, and she slowly sank back to the ground beside him.

“Explains why I’ve been following her about like a puppy, don’t you think?” Harry saw tears welling up in Hermione’s eyes after that comment, and felt a bit bad for it, but decided that he needed to drive another point home before they could really begin to talk.

“Hermione, I haven’t been avoiding you. This is the first chance we’ve had to actually say anything to each other without the whole damn house listening in!” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused on the calm, peaceful, centered feelings he tried to find when he meditated. After a few moments, he continued in a more moderate tone. “So, are you ready to listen to me now, or are you going to keep screaming at me? Because I have to tell you, I have other things I could be doing that would be much more pleasant than being shrieked at, such as getting beaten up by my new brothers-in-law.”

Hermione stared at Harry in horror, and seemed to crumple in on herself.

Harry waited for a few moments, watching as tears began to roll silently down her face. Her crying did not increase in volume, but it did not abate, nor show any sign of stopping.

“Hermione, don’t cry,” Harry said finally as he shifted uncomfortably. “Come on, calm down.”

Hermione turned away from him and dug a handkerchief from her pocket, but said nothing. Instead, she seemed to be trying to stop herself from shaking as she wept.

Harry reached over to take her hand again, but she impatiently pulled it away and wiped at her face with it instead. He looked at her, feeling awkward and uncomfortable, for several minutes.

Finally, he decided to ignore the tears and just talk to her. “One of the most important things I have to do while we’re here, one of the big reasons we came, is to talk about the Horcruxes with you. Ron, too, really, but after this morning, I didn’t know if you wanted to be around him at all. But he needs … I need to talk to him, too. Can you handle doing that at the same time?”

She nodded stiffly but still did not reply. She finally stopped sniffling while he spoke, but still pulled her wand and conjured a fresh handkerchief.

“Maybe tonight after everyone has gone to bed, we could all get together in Charlie’s room. Ginny and I are supposed to be staying there, from what Muriel was saying earlier. Unless, you know of someplace better to talk in the middle of the night around here?” Harry asked her hopefully.

“I think that would be alright, better than wandering about outdoors, anyway. Nobody would really have a reason to go up to that part of the house after the two of you …” she stopped and blushed crimson.

“After we, what?” he prodded.

“Go to bed,” she squeaked, and looked at the ground to avoid his eyes.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. “No, I suppose not,” he agreed after his impulse to laugh subsided somewhat.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” Harry asked when she didn’t say anything for several minutes.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “Are you?”

Harry groaned as he adjusted his position against the tree. His back was killing him and his left foot was starting to twitch. “I’ve been better.” He cast another warming charm over himself.

Hermione looked at him closely. “No fine?” she asked sarcastically.

Harry laughed and shook his head.

“Did you really get married?”

“Yes,” Harry said firmly. “We did.”

Hermione huffed impatiently. “But you broke up with her, Harry. And then you turned around and just … married her.”

“Hermione! Merlin, I thought you understood … I didn’t break up with her because I didn’t like her, or because of anything she did. I was trying to protect her. I wanted to be with her, but I was afraid being with me would only get her hurt, or killed,” he explained. “I don’t understand why you didn’t think that we might have gotten back together at some point, anyway. We’ve been alone, gone, for months, and you knew how I felt about her.”

“Well, I knew it was possible ... but I didn’t think that you would … I hoped that … why did you have to marry her!!?? Everything you just said is still true, Harry! Why didn’t you wait until it’s all over?”

Harry laughed. “Erm, that was my plan, well … my hope, if I survived,” he said with a shrug. “I guess it wasn’t the right one. And actually, I don’t even remember getting married. I didn’t exactly choose to do it, but it’s the best damned thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Hermione stared at him.

Harry smiled at her sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just that Mrs Weasley … Erm, well she didn’t take it well. Neither did you, really.”

By the time he finished talking, Hermione’s eyes had gone so wide, Harry thought they’d pop out of her face.

“What do you mean, you didn’t choose to do it? And you don’t even remember it? Are you sure you’re really married?”

“Erm, yeah, I’m … fairly well certain,” he said as he restrained a laugh.

“How certain?” she demanded.

“Muriel says it’s legally binding, and permanent. There is absolutely no possibility that we’re not married.”

“But you don’t even remember it!” she said in a high, scandalized tone.

He rolled his eyes. “No, not really.”

“Who would do that?”

“What? Marry me?” he asked, a bit offended.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Harry, how can you not remember being married? Who did this to you? How in the world can you get married and not remember it? Had you been drinking? Perhaps the Imperious curse,” she muttered, “no, you can fight that one. Was it the Confundus? Were you given a love potion?”

“Of course not! Hermione! Merlin, I … It was nothing like that! I don’t remember it because I was barely conscious, and I had a concussion, and it’s not Ginny’s fault. The Death Eater who took us decided it was the best way to hide us from the other Death Eaters, and Voldemort.”

“It can’t count,” Hermione protested. “You were unconscious, or nearly so, and you were both under age, and forced into it. It can’t possibly be legal. What authority does a Death Eater have to marry anyone, anyway? Muriel must be mistaken.”

Harry’s expression darkened. “Hermione, it does count. I’m married,” he said forcefully.

“Harry, how can you not be upset about this?”

“Well, the Death Eater was right about it keeping us safe, and Ginny is the only person I’ve ever even thought about marrying. Really, I’m more than okay with it. It’s good. Brilliant, really.” Harry shook his head, and grinned ruefully. “I didn’t exactly handle it well when I found out about it, though.”

“Well, that’s certainly understandable. What did you do?”

“Erm,” Harry began uncomfortably, “I think I told Ginny that we had to either get it annulled, or get a divorce,” he mumbled quietly.

Shocked, Hermione could only stare at him for a long moment. “Harry, you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t! Does she remember the … Harry, has she even forgiven you? You shouldn’t have said that.”

Harry said, matter-of-factly, “I’m really not certain what I actually said. I did make her cry. Ginny probably would have killed me if I hadn’t been such a pathetic mess.”

Hermione snorted. “You seem to have that effect on people.”

“Yeah, I think she blamed it on curse damage and pain potions. Erm, I’m sorry about that … making you cry … you know, earlier.”

“I’m sorry, too, Harry. I was so excited to see you, but this hasn’t turned out at all like I expected. I had all these ideas about what would happen when you came back, and it’s all been so … You’re just so different. You … You’re really married?” she finally finished, a pained look on her face.

“Yes,” Harry said, laughing at Hermione’s disbelief.

Hermione sat and stared at him for a moment. Then her eyes got extremely wide, and she whispered, “She’s not? Harry, you didn’t!”

“Get her pregnant?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

Hermione nodded.

“I can’t figure out why that is everybody’s first or second question,” he muttered to himself. “I hope Arthur doesn’t try to kill me before he actually asks.”

Hermione stifled a snort.

“No, she’s not. We’re not ready for that. Erm … things … need to happen first.”

“Things? What things? You mean you haven’t …” She trailed off at Harry’s rolled eyes and emphatic nod.

“Hermione, we’re married, in every sense that two people can be.”

She bit her lip and looked away from him for a moment. “Right. Of course. That was … silly of me. So … things. What things? The Horcruxes?”

Harry nodded.

“Well then, erm, I suppose… congratulations?” she asked, thoroughly flustered.

Harry laughed. “So, if she was pregnant, I wouldn’t get congratulations?”

Hermione hit his shoulder as she rolled her eyes. “Probably, but only after I hexed you.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just not sure how I fit with you anymore. I feel just … left out, like … like you’ve left me behind.”

She folded her arms over her face, dug her fingers into her hair, and screamed wordlessly for a moment. “Ugh. Harry, I can’t believe you’re actually married! You are both just … too young.”

Now, it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, so he did. “You know what? You’re right, Hermione. We’re young, and I’m sure people will keep reminding us of it. The truth is, though, it doesn’t matter how old you are. What matters a lot more is how you treat each other. It’s your passion, commitment, and devotion to your partner.”

“Passion?” she squeaked, and turned red again.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, passion. But not … well, you really … you need it, but marriage … it’s not just … it’s about more than sex.” Hermione squeaked again, but Harry ignored it and carried on. “It’s about more than things, or dates or gifts. It’s about trust, which is why sex is such a big deal, especially in a marriage. Trust, commitment, and yeah, passion, all of those things help make a relationship successful, and all of that is more important than what other people think of us. From that perspective, I think we’re old enough.”

“What did you do?” she asked slowly, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “Did you actually read … a relationship book? Who are you, and what have you done with Harry Potter?” she asked in an ironic tone.

They both smirked at her last question. Harry blushed at the same time, and shook his head as he responded, “It wasn’t in a book. Well, it probably is, but I didn’t read one, anyway.”

“What, then?”

“It was my doctor.”

“Your doctor gave you relationship advice?” she asked, with a quirk to her eyebrows and forehead that showed how odd she found the thought.

“Well, yeah. We had a priest that talked to us all the time, too. He came around to visit anyone and everyone, and Ginny really got to be good friends with him. Serious injury or illness causes a lot of stress in relationships, and we’re newlyweds. Talking through it, talking about our relationship, it was all part of my treatment.” He shrugged. “When you have a neuropsychiatrist supervising your care, you’ve pretty much got a bloke who can treat anything going on inside your head, whether it’s physical, emotional, or mental.”

Hermione studied Harry intently for several minutes before speaking again. “You weren’t just vacationing over there, were you.”

“No,” he said definitively.

“So … just how long were you in hospital?”

“Five and a half weeks in-patient. I’d still be there if I didn’t have magical treatment in the beginning, and if my magic hadn’t sped up my recovery.”

She shook her head wordlessly, and picked up his hand.

He could see tears in her eyes again when she looked up.

“Don’t worry. I really am much better,” he said.

“But not completely?”

“Well … no.”

“So, the weight lifting. What’s that for?”

“Physiotherapy. Got to be strong to make up for some things.”

“What are you doing tomorrow? Are you looking for Horcruxes?”

“No, it’s more physiotherapy, among other things,” Harry said tiredly.

“You still need outpatient care,” Hermione stated, stunned.

“Yes.”

“Why did they let you come back then? Why didn’t your doctor keep you there?”

“We do have some fairly competent medical people here, Hermione. It made sense, when I was so sick, to get someplace farther away so we could hide more effectively and not have to worry about running across a random Death Eater. Now that we can take care of ourselves better, we don’t have to worry as much, and we can start working on other issues instead of being so hyper-focused on me.”

“So when you said you couldn’t come before now, you meant …”

“I physically could not come.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, we didn’t even know where you were before we talked to Fred and Bill.”

“I guess … that all explains why Ginny hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. None of that has anything to do with you.”

“No, Harry, you said that Moody and Tonks coming messed up your treatment. You said you had to rely on Muggles after that. That was my fault. It was my idea to check Sirius’ house to see if you were there. I sent them, and I didn’t listen to Ginny. I’m so sorry.”

“Okay, well, yeah, you’re right, that is part of why Ginny is … mad … at you, and I think you should apologise to her, probably. But, Hermione, what happened wasn’t entirely your fault, and she doesn’t hate you for it. We had to leave sooner than we’d planned, but we knew we couldn’t stay at Grimmauld Place forever. The timing was a little inconvenient, but it really … it’s really not that important.

“But, Harry, it sounds like you …” Hermione stopped. “Harry, what was wrong with you?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Kind of a lot, but it … well, I’ll tell you tonight, you and Ron,” Harry promised. “It’s just … no one else can know. Not anyone, at all.”

Hermione’s face fell. “Fred wouldn’t tell me what Ginny said to him, and now you want me to not tell him what you say,” she said, almost pouting.

“Right. When a person gets trusted with someone else’s secrets, they should keep their mouth shut,” Harry replied forcefully. “Ginny needed someone she could trust to talk to. Fred was good for that.”

“I know,” Hermione admitted sheepishly. “But, Harry, he’s my …” she started, but broke off suddenly.

“He’s your … what?” he asked.

Hermione blushed crimson, but did not say anything.

Harry looked at her steadily for a few moments, waiting, but she stubbornly looked away.

“So, you and Fred, then?”

She sighed, and met his gaze. “Yes. Fred and I are dating.”

He shook his head. “But at the funeral, you and Ron …”

Her sudden, sharp glare cut him off.

“I’m surprised you noticed, since you were so busy working up the nerve to break up with someone you actually cared about,” she said scathingly.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, and he flushed a bit.

“Sorry,” she said, somewhat contritely. Then she rushed on. “Yes, at the funeral, we … it seemed like something might be happening. But, I was wrong. The truth is, he hasn’t even acted much like a friend since. When I visited about a week later, we had a huge fight and … I can’t just forget what he said. I’ve made excuses for him too often. Ron is a jealous, judgmental, stubborn, foul prat. Constant belittling, arguments, and put-downs? No one could make a successful relationship out of that, and I’m not willing to try, not after all of the nasty things he’s said to me. It’s hard to even be friends with someone like that, let alone date them. You just told me you know about that kind of thing,” she finished in a pointed manner.

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Hermione laughed a little bit, with a nervous look on her face. Harry just shook his head at her. “So, Fred is someone you can have a successful relationship with?” he asked slowly.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “We’re dating and having a good time, and, well … like I said, we’re young. We’re not supposed to be worrying about getting too serious right now.”

Harry rolled his eyes yet again. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy in your non-serious relationship with Fred.”

“Thank you, Harry. And I’m glad you’re happy in your overly-serious relationship with Ginny.”

Harry laughed. “Erm, thanks,” he said.

“Does Ginny know?”

“Know what?” Harry asked, just a bit confused at the sudden shift in topic.

She huffed a bit impatiently. “About the prophecy, and the Horcruxes,” she said.

“Of course. She’s … I could hardly keep that from her. She’s my wife!”

“So she’ll be there, tonight?”

“Of course!” he said again, with a bit of agitation. “Like it or not, she’s part of this, part of me.”

“Oh, Harry, I didn’t mean it like that. Everything is so different. You’re so different.”

“I know,” he replied tiredly.

Hermione studied Harry for several moments without comment before she suddenly said, “You’re taller.”

“So is Ron.”

“Your clothes …” Hermione stopped talking, but fingered the cuff of his jumper and ran her other hand down the arm of his jacket.

“Yes?” Harry prompted.

“They’re so nice … expensive. You don’t dress like this.”

“Erm… actually, I do,” he said quietly, giving her a straight, firm gaze. “It’s not like I had any salvageable clothing after … well. And not much choice in the matter before that. And Ginny didn’t exactly pack a bag before she left, so … we kind of both had to buy some, and we bought what we like. Well, we do try to look like we’re older. People ask fewer questions that way. Part of the disguise.”

“You have a French accent, sometimes.”

“Really?”

Hermione nodded.

“Hm,” Harry muttered. He blinked a bit. “I had no idea.”

“Just certain words, but …” she paused and looked at him intently, “Your scar is almost invisible. I thought it was a glamour, but I can see it if I look closely”

Harry smiled, “Yeah, it finally healed. It’s just a scar now.”

“What do you mean? What about your connection to …”

“I’ll tell you tonight. Ron needs to know, too.”

Hermione groaned. “Well, fine. I guess I’ll just go check on Fred, then.”

“Do that,” he said with a bit of a laugh. “It sounds like Ron’s face wasn’t very nice to his hand.”

Hermione cringed as she stood. “How can you laugh about it? It was awful.” She wiped at her face. “I wish they wouldn’t fight,” she whispered.

“This morning wasn’t the first time?” he asked, his voice going more serious.

“No,” she said slowly. “But … They’ve never really hurt each other before. It was just a lot of yelling, you know? Ron would say something stupid to me, Fred would call him an idiot, they’d yell at each other, and then Molly would send them off to do chores on opposite sides of the farm, or something else to separate them. I thought they were getting over it, to be honest. They stopped talking for a while, and then Ron started acting somewhat human around me again a few weeks ago.”

She looked down at Harry, who hadn’t moved. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked.

Harry shook his head. “Not just yet.”

“Alright,” she said, just a bit uncertainly as she looked at him. After a few moments, she shook her head, and walked towards the house.

Harry let his head fall back against the tree and groaned quietly. He just wanted to go home. He was cold, stiff, miserable, and he needed a Jacuzzi, or a warm, soft bed. He didn’t even know where Charlie’s room was, or if it was ready for them, but he was ready to lie down. He knew where he could find a bed, though. All he’d have to do was apparate to the cottage, or to Grimmauld Place, and he could just land right in one of them and be asleep in minutes.

He shook his head ruefully. There was no leaving, not yet. He would just have to stick it out until someone decided to let him get to bed.

“Hey.”

“You came,” Harry said without opening his eyes.

“Of course,” Ginny replied simply as she knelt down at his side and pulled her wand. “What have you done to yourself this time, Mr Potter?” she asked mimicking Poppy as she ran scans.

Harry laughed. “Nothing. I’ve done nothing but visit my wife’s family, and share conversation and food.”

“So, I was misinformed when I was told you’d been fighting Death Eaters?” Ginny said archly.

“Well, no. That’s true. But it was yesterday, and I’m sure the accounts you heard were greatly exaggerated.” He opened his eyes and looked up at her. “What’s the verdict?”

She smirked. “You, Mr Potter, need to go to bed and stay there. I may even tie you to that bed, just to protect you from your overzealous friends, of course.”

“Oh, good, it’s been far too long since you tied me up,” he said as he took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and stroked her forearm. “I was thinking of apparating to the cottage to take a lie down. Come with me?”

“No,” Ginny said, choking back a laugh.

“But … we’d come back,” Harry protested. He put on his best puppy-dog face.

“None of that, Mr Potter. Come with me,” she said as she stood and took both of his hands in hers.

Harry let Ginny pull him to his feet. “Erm, do we even have a bed here?” he asked.

“Of course, we do,” Ginny answered as she wrapped her arms around him. With no more than a thought and sort of stomach-lurching twist, she apparated them directly from the garden to Charlie’s room, where they landed right next to the large bed.

“We have a few hours, so just relax,” Ginny said as she pulled back the comforter and pushed him gently to sit on the bed.

“But, we haven’t told your dad about us yet. Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

“He should be back with Mr Granger soon, but mum wants to talk to him before we do. We’re to have tea with the two of them at two-thirty.”

Harry blanched at the thought, and hoped, again, that Arthur would react better to the news than Mrs Weasley had.

Ginny sat beside him on the bed. “Don’t worry about it. Dad will calm mum down.”

“You’re sure?”

“He always does,” she said with a confident shrug. She eyed his shaking body with worry. “Let’s get your clothes off and warm you up. You’re frozen.”

“I used a warming charm. Two, actually,” he protested as he let her pull off his jacket and jumper.

“And then you sat right on the ground, without even a cushioning charm. It’s November, Harry. Your back won’t take that, and you’re still … ergh. You’re not strong enough for the cold yet, not really. Why didn’t you conjure up a chair?”

“It didn’t occur to me,” he said as he unbuttoned his shirt. “We always go outside and sit under a tree when we want to talk.”

Ginny just shook her head as she took off his shoes and socks.

Harry nodded his head and started to lie down, struggling the whole while to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Trousers first,” Ginny demanded. “And give me your t-shirt and pants, too.”

Harry complied, and then sank back into the pillows and pulled his legs up onto the bed. He sighed as Ginny covered him with warmed sheets and an heirloom comforter.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, as he closed his eyes.

“Harry, you don’t need to apologise to me,” she said as she sat next to him on the bed and picked up his hand. “Don’t go to sleep yet. You need potions.”

Harry dragged his eyes open and looked at Ginny. Her expression was full of love and concern.

Harry smiled at her and pulled her close to hold her. “Listen, you can be as angry as you want with Hermione, but you’ll have to get along with her tonight. She and Ron are meeting with us, here, once everyone else has gone to bed.”

“Are you feeling that?” she said as she turned her face toward his.

“Erm, yeah.”

“Huh. I thought I was containing it better than that.”

“You probably felt it when I was irritated with her earlier,” he pointed out.

“Irritated, were you? She was positively awful to you, Harry. Don’t try to deny it. I could barely restrain myself from marching out there and cursing her.”

Harry laughed a little bit, and she joined him, her shoulders shaking against his chest.

“You can be angry with your mum, too. She …”

“I know,” Ginny interrupted him. “She should have taken the news better. I don’t want to talk about that.”

She sat up and grabbed the vials she’d set on the table. “Take these. I want to work on your back. I should really give you one of the extra crystals,” she muttered to herself at the end, but he heard her.

“No,” Harry said vehemently.

“I know. You’d probably need to use your crutches for the rest of the day. But I should really do it anyway. Here, this should help,” she said as she held out a vial of orange potion.

Harry took it and swallowed it quickly, and then reached for the bright red vial and made a face as he swallowed it.

“Why can’t the nutrient potion taste better?” he asked as he handed the empty vial to Ginny.

“I don’t know. I’m following Snape’s recipe still, so at least it’ll work, even though it tastes foul. But, since I doubt you’ll get to eat much at tea, you’ll need it.”

Harry laughed. “I think your mum was appalled when she realized how little I ate this morning.”

“She should have been,” Ginny replied. “It was completely ridiculous, how they were acting. Turn over on your stomach,” she ordered as she took his sunglasses and set them on the bedside table. “I’ll do what I can.”

Harry closed his eyes and scooted lower on the bed before turning over.

Ginny darkened the windows so Harry could open his eyes. “Sorry about the light, love.”

“S’alright.”

“This should feel good,” she reassured him as she uncovered part of his left leg and began lightly massaging the muscles of his foot. When she felt a muscle spasm, she tried to locate which muscle caused it and wandlessly applied a localized warming charm. She worked her way up one leg, then the other, and then started over at his neck and worked her way down to give him his own, rather unique, total-body massage.

Finally satisfied that he was comfortable, Ginny covered him completely again with the sheets and moved to the other side of the bed to climb in herself. Harry had relaxed so fully, she thought he was asleep and was surprised when he suddenly blinked opened his eyes.

“Unmm-ha,” he mumbled.

Ginny laughed and asked, “What?”

“No clothe,” he slurred as he turned onto his side and looked at her fully.

Ginny, rather taken aback, looked at him questioningly.

“M’not wearin’ a stitch. You don’t, either,” he said more clearly. “S’not fair, otherwise.”

Ginny grinned at him, and slowly stripped off before she slipped into the bed.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” she whispered as she snuggled against his warmth.

He wrapped his right arm around her and turned onto his back, naturally taking Ginny with him as he pulled her on top of himself. She squealed in surprise.

Harry chuckled at that, but only for a moment. He reached up with both of his hands and held her face gently between his palms, stroking the skin and scalp with his fingertips.

“I love you,” he said very seriously.

She smiled, leaned down, and kissed him softly. “I love you, too.”
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Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
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