Thank you to Arnel and James for all your help!
Lovely readers, I'm working on an original book (yay!) that will be released via a new publishing company and will be an e-book. If you like my work, you'll probably like this story. More details to follow, but I'm over halfway done with it. HAPPY DANCE! Once it is done and in editing I will put more details in my author's profile.
Also, as I've hinted in reviews, I am writing a sequel to Bound. It is well underway (over 50,000 words in and not nearly done so it may end up as two or three stories). My plan is to finish Bound and then continue with the sequel immediately after the next week but that depends on finishing the original fic (I'm about 75% sure that I will).
I love feedback and I respond to all reviews. I want to hear what you have to say.
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Romance, Tragedy Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mental Abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use, Rape, Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 357 Summary: The battle is over, there is life to be lived, peace to be enjoyed and trouble following close at their heels. Ginny hasn't seen Harry since the dust settled from the battles with Voldemort, but when an unexpected piece of news draws them together will they be driven apart or become bound? Follows Canon to the best of my knowledge. The warnings are just to be safe. I don't know that they're all needed, but I'm putting them up just to cover my bases. If you have any questions or concerns, please message me. Hitcount: Story Total: 139166; Chapter Total: 8087 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Wednesday June 24th “No way,” Ron hissed almost inaudibly as they approached the same Muggle café that they had spotted Rita in during their stint of trailing her. Harry couldn’t see Ron’s expression, since he was under the Invisibility Cloak, but he knew the look of disgusts and incredulity that Ron would be wearing. Harry didn’t respond since they were walking through a Muggle street. He opened the café door and felt Ron pass by him before he walked over to the table where Rita sat waiting for him. Harry sat closest to the wall and knew that Ron was standing directly behind him so that he wouldn’t get knocked over by an unsuspecting Muggle. “Harry!” Rita trilled, touching his arm. “I was so surprised to hear from you.” Harry made no comment to that. He waved his wand under the table, silently casting the Muffliato charm and said, “We can talk freely. None of the Muggles can hear us.” Rita’s drawn-in brow raised above her jeweled glasses. “A nice Auror trick, I’m-” “I want to make this simple,” Harry said, cutting her off. “I know you’re writing a book about me and I want to make a deal.” Sitting back, she crossed her arms, tapping one manicured finger on her upper arm. “What could you offer me?” “I will offer you the true story of Severus Snape, all of the details. It will give you a very good head start on a second book,” Harry offered evenly, watching her face and seeing the flicker of interest he’d hoped for. “And what, my dear boy, do you want in return?” Her tone was calculating as she eyed him, but he knew she was seeing fat galleons dancing before her eyes. After all two books were a lot better than one. Taking a slow breath, Harry told her, “I want you to be kind to Ginny in the book you write about me.” She held silent for nearly a full minute. “Why?” Harry didn’t answer, just watched her as she watched him. Leaning forward and folding her mannish hands on the table, she asked, “I need a reason.” “I love my wife,” Harry said honestly. “And I don’t care what you say about me.” Harry felt Ron shift slightly behind him and knew he was going into dangerous territory. “I could just arrest you, of course, but in this case I’d rather work with you.” Rita scowled at him, her blonde ringlets barely moving as she shook her head. “You can’t arrest me!” “I can,” he informed her evenly, not moving, not giving away what this conversation was costing him. “I have Robards’ blessing to do so because of your little bug problem, and also we want you for questioning on how you got into the Ministry to get sensitive information.” Outrage crossed her face. “I did no such thing, Harry! You wound me!” “You’re a liar,” Harry said evenly. “No need for pretense between us. I know you snuck into Garsteur’s office at the Ministry as a beetle. That’s how you saw the record.” Rita’s face remained impassive, but it was answer enough for him. Harry tamped down on his rage. “Do you check it constantly or something?” She waited a beat. “If I checked it, and I’m not saying I did, it would be because I got an anonymous owl saying I was going to see something worth seeing.” It was just as Harry had suspected. He swallowed hard. “About my wife… do we have a deal?” Studying him again she finally said, “Alright but on two conditions.” “No conditions,” Harry stated flatly. “Now, you haven’t heard what I’m proposing yet,” Rita said with a sly smile. “I assume you’ll want to see my book about you before you help me with Snape, is that right?” Harry nodded once and she went on. “Then, I want your agreement that after I write about Snape you will give it your blessing in the press release.” “I’d have to read it first,” Harry said. “I’d have to be able to say that I find it factual to the best of my knowledge.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Of course, of course.” “What’s the other condition?” He asked, afraid of what the answer might be. “I want you to answer two questions honestly,” Rita said, her face shrewd and Harry heard alarm bells go off in his head. “My first question is if you could have changed one thing in the Battle of Hogwarts, what would it have been?” Harry had to think. There were so many things he would want to change, but changing one thing might have altered the outcome and made it so that he couldn’t have killed Voldemort. “I don’t know that I would have changed anything,” he finally said. “I have a lot of things that I wish had happened differently, but with the ultimate goal of killing Voldemort in mind I know that if I change one thing, I might not have been able to end him. I think saying anything should be different is like saying that everyone who sacrificed themselves did it for nothing.” Rita just stared at him. “You wouldn’t change anything?” “I can’t be sure that I’d have been able to kill him if I did change something, and he needed to die.” Rita swallowed hard. “Alright, I also want to know when you found out it would be you that had to kill You-Know-Who.” Stunned, but glad it wasn’t worse he answered honestly. “It was right after we broke into the Department of Mysteries at the end of my 5th year. Dumbledore told me that night about the prophecy.” “There was a prophecy?” She asked, her voice wheedling. “That’s more than two questions,” Harry replied evenly. Rita grinned. “Just confirm that, Harry, and I will be more than kind to your lovely young wife. It’s one of the biggest clues about you that I just can’t get an answer on.” Harry tried to think through it, but could see no harm. “Yes, there was. It was why my parents went into hiding when I was a baby.” Rita stuck out her hand and reluctantly Harry shook it, feeling suddenly like he was making a pact with the devil. “When the book is done I will send you a copy for your approval after which I trust that we can set up a few interviews about the mysterious Severus Snape. I can trust you, can’t I, Harry?” “You can trust me more than I can trust you,” he retorted and she grinned wickedly. “Send it to me at the Ministry,” Harry said. “No mail goes to my house and I might not get it if you try.” “What are you afraid of, Harry?” Rita asked laughing. Harry shrugged and stood. “Getting mail from you of course.” With that he walked out and he could feel Ron’s shoulder’s shaking with silent laughter when he bumped into him as he followed Harry out. ~*~ Sat June 27th “You look very handsome,” Ginny said from her perch on the bed as she watched Harry finish getting dressed in his dress robes for the ball. She felt a twinge in her chest that she didn’t get to go, but it faded back to the dull ache she’d had on and off for days. George had refused, point blank, to go to the ball and instead was spending the evening with her. Ginny had to admit that she was looking forward to some time with her brother. Harry gave her a pained look. “I don’t want to go.” “You keep saying that,” she said, trying to hide a smile. Standing, she crossed their bedroom, her feeding line pole in one hand, to stand before him. Ginny reached up and straightened his collar. “It won’t be so bad.” “I wish you could go,” Harry said, not for the first time. “I don’t like dancing.” Ginny didn’t much fancy him dancing with anyone else, but there wasn’t a lot she was going to do about it. “It will be okay. I told Luna to stick with you constantly.” “Yeah,” Harry agreed, suddenly grinning. “She’s great fun at parties.” Ginny burst out laughing and he pulled her into his arms. Resting her head on his warm, solid chest she closed her eyes and listened to the beat of his heart, letting it lull and sooth her. “She’ll protect you from all the scary reporters.” “By confusing them until they walk off dazed,” he said, kissing the top of her head and holding her close in a way that always made her feel like she was cherished above anything else. He ran his hand down to her stomach which now in her ninth week had a definite small bump. Ginny loved when he did it, reveled in the feeling of him connecting with their child and he seemed to crave it as she much as she did. It was like a beacon of hope leading them on. He ran his thumb along her stomach, her shirt bunching a bit as he went. “You’ll have a better time than I will tonight.” Ginny took that as a given. “You’ll be okay, though. You’ll have Ron and Hermione there with you too.” Sighing, he pulled away. “You’re right. I need to go.” “Go,” Ginny said kissing him when he bent down. “George will be here soon and I always have Kreacher if I need something.” She made her way back to the bed and crawled in. Harry hesitated for a second but then nodded. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” “All right,” she said, waving as he walked out. Ginny picked up the latest issue of Quidditch Monthly and started to read. George arrived about five minutes later with a call from downstairs. “Up here,” Ginny yelled back and grinned at her one-eared brother as he sauntered through the door. “You’re late.” “Only fashionably,” George said, smoothing his collar, “besides, I had to make myself pretty to come and see you.” Sniggering, she shook her head. “You’ll always be beautiful to me, Georgey-boy.” “Brat,” he snorted and came to sit on the bed, looking up at her pole. “This is quite a rig you have here.” Sighing she glanced up at it too. “It’s a right pain in the arse. I have to drag it along everywhere.” “Do you ever leave your room?” Ginny nodded. “Harry will carry me downstairs or outside if the weather is nice.” “Aww, you have your own knight in shining armor to carry you around,” he sang melodramatically. “Stuff it, you,” she said rolling her eyes before letting out a huff. “It does sort of feel like that, though. I’m stuck here in my ivory tower, safe from everything. I might as well have a fire breathing dragon out front.” George frowned. “Surely Harry’s breath isn’t that bad. I mean, fire breathing is a serious-” he cut off when she kicked him in the thigh. Chuckling, he went on. “You’re supposed to be nice to me! Here I am, doing you a favor-” “Me a favor?” Ginny shook her head. “You didn’t want to go to that ball either.” Shrugging dismissively, he could only grin. “Maybe not.” “Oh,” Ginny said, getting to her feet. “I wanted to show you.” She turned sideways and pulled her shirt in tight so he could see her small belly. If it had been any more than one of her brothers she’d have never done it, but when it was just one-on-one she knew they could be real with each other and no one would be honor bound to take the mickey. “Wow,” George said awed. He started to reach out, but hesitated. Ginny took his hand and put it on her belly. “That’s your niece or nephew.” “That’s…” George seemed completely lost for words but she understood anyway. Stepping over she hugged him for a long moment before settling back into bed. “Just yesterday you were a baby,” he said finally, his voice a little hoarse. “I mean, you still are. I never thought my sixteen-year-old sister would be a mum, you know?” Ginny swallowed back the lump in her throat, nodding. “Yeah, it’s pretty weird for me, too.” “Here you are, though,” George said, uncharacteristically serious for him. “You’re married and having a kid. My niece or nephew…” the awe was replaced by a glint in his eye. “Oh, I think I’m going to like being an uncle.” “I’m sure,” Ginny said dryly. “Only, leave the pranks until they can at least walk, yeah?” He considered it and she could tell he judged it a reasonable request. “Fair enough. So let’s go downstairs. How do we do this?” “Unhook the bag and hand it to me,” Ginny instructed, taking it from him. “Then after I’m downstairs, you just run back up for the pole.” “Can’t I levitate it down?” George asked, considering as he picked her up. He was a lot broader than Harry, but made a point of making fake groaning noises as he went out of the room. “If you can walk, why can’t you walk downstairs?” “I don’t know, they just don’t let me,” she said as they entered the sitting room where he deposited her on a sofa. He jogged back up and got her pole, carrying it back down a moment later. Flopping down next to her he said, “I’m never going to recover from that. Such heavy lifting.” “I’ve put on almost fifteen pounds,” she said proudly. “It is way more than I normally would have this soon, but the midwife is encouraging it.” George grabbed his back, groaning dramatically, “No wonder! That must put you up near one hundred-twenty pounds!” “Not quite, more like one hundred-fifteen pounds, but I’m working on it,” she said happily, sinking back into the soft brown leather sofa. Sobering, she looked into his face and saw the tension in the lines around his eyes. “How are you?” He shrugged. “Not something we’re going to talk about, Smidge.” Biting her lip, she shook her head. “George, I love you and I want to know how you’re doing.” “Ginny, we can’t talk about anything like that,” George said dismissively. “Can I help in any way?” Ginny pushed gently, her heart hurting for him. She knew she should leave it alone, but she couldn’t ignore the hurt that was right in front of her. “Nope,” he answered easily. Getting up, he wandered over to the kitchen and went poking around until he found the tin of biscuits Kreacher always had on hand. She just watched him as he came back and offered her one. She shook her head, not feeling like eating anything at all. “Can I have a job?” George burst out laughing. “No way is anyone going to let you out of the house, Smidge.” Scowling, Ginny crossed her arms. “You don’t have anything I can do?” “You’re already rich, why do you want a job?” “Because I get bored,” she admitted. “Now that I’m awake most of the day I don’t have anything I can really do and both Mum and Hermione are trying to get me to learn to knit.” George was horrified. “I see your dilemma. Let me think.” He pretended to tug at his missing ear. “I need help writing adverts for the new products. Fred was always better at that.” It touched and hurt her to see just how neutral he kept his face when he said it. “I can do that,” she said smiling. “How much are you going to pay me?” “You’re loaded!” He spluttered. “What the ruddy hell do you need money for?” “So I can buy more another rich husband,” Ginny scoffed as if it were obvious. George laughed. “Titchy little brat. Alright, a galleon per product if I end up running them in the papers or magazines and more if the adverts do well.” Ginny stuck out her hand to shake. “Deal.” ~*~ Harry Apparated back to the outer limit of his property, which was conveniently at the end of a cul-du-sac so he didn’t have to worry about Muggles spotting him as he arrived. He quickly walked through the invisible barrier and made his way up to the house. The ball had been okay. Luna and Hermione had spared him from having to dance with anyone he didn’t want to, which had been pretty much everyone, by claiming that it was their turn to dance any time a girl asked him. If they got shirty about it, Luna would go off about Nargles and some other nonsense until they walked away. He’d shaken five million hands, endured about a million uncomfortable, embarrassing or downright rude conversations and rejected several hundred offers for things that he didn’t even want to remember. Kingsley had made a speech and asked Harry to say something, which had been horrible. He didn’t know what he’d said, and if he was honest, Harry didn’t really care. His feet hurt, he was tired of his hot, itchy dress robes, and he was ready for bed. He’d been told by some committee member for something that he was getting an Order of Merlin and he’d flat out refused to go if they held the ceremony when Ginny couldn’t make it. Thankfully, Kingsley had backed him up and said that it was only right that his wife be there. He opened the door and called out. George stirred from the sofa, dropping a magazine where his bum had been a second before. “How was the party?” “Bloody awful as you well know, you lucky git,” Harry growled, rubbing absently at his chest which felt odd. “If I never go to another one of these effing functions it will make my life complete.” “That good, eh?” George said sympathetically. “Ginny’s asleep. I’ve hired her, by the way.” Harry stopped in the middle of pulling off his cloak to look over his shoulder. “Come again?” “Yes, she’s looking for a job, so she’s going to write adverts for me,” George said, his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. “She’s itching for pocket money, apparently.” Harry just stared at him, trying to take it in. “What?” Shaking his head, George seemed to take pity on him. “She’s bored, wants something to do.” “Oh,” Harry said, cottoning on. “I need to sleep. I feel like hell.” George clapped him on the shoulder. “Go on, I’ll see you later.” Harry walked slowly up the stairs and found Ginny asleep. He stripped off his clothes and fell into bed. He woke what felt like minutes later to Ginny crying out. Harry reached for her, but she thrashed away, in the midst of a nightmare. “No… no….” she moaned. He reached for his glasses and his wand, flicking it to get the light. “Ginny,” Harry whispered, trying to reach her like he had before when she had nightmares. She wouldn’t wake. “Ginny!” he called more sharply, kissing her. Ginny responded instantly to the kiss, pulling him in as if she was drowning and he was the lifeline. Heat flooded through him and he sunk into the kiss, forgetting for half a second that she wasn’t actually awake. He pulled back and she broke down in sobs. He tried to pull her into his arms, but it only made her cry harder. “No… no please no no no no no!” She cried out, rolling away from him and doubling over. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her back and kissed her again. Ginny quieted and they spent several minutes just kissing. When he tried to pull away again she fell straight back into the nightmare. Desperate he said softly, “Kreacher.” With a loud crack the house-elf appeared next to his bed. “Master?” “Please go get the midwife,” Harry asked. Kreacher nodded once and with another loud crack left. Harry got up quickly and threw on some jeans just before she arrived with the old elf’s hand in hers, wearing her dressing gown. The second she was steady on her feet she rushed over to the sobbing, yelling Ginny who was half tangled in the sheets. He nodded to Kreacher with thanks, and the elf bowed and walked out of the room. “Ginny?” Martha said, running her wand along her. “How long has she been like this?” “Not long. She calmed down when I kissed her,” Harry explained, “but when straight back into the nightmare when I pulled back.” Ignoring Ginny for a second, Martha studied him. “Have you two been intimate since your wedding?” “No, of course not,” Harry promised. “We’ve been abstaining like you said.” Nodding with a sigh she turned back to Ginny. “Let me see you kiss her.” Feeling decidedly awkward, he moved over to the side of the bed, knelt down and kissed Ginny. Once again she clung to him as if he was life itself. When he broke it, she went straight back into the nightmare. “No! No, I need you! No!” “What are we going to do?” Harry asked, rubbing at the ache in his chest again. He stopped when he saw that she was watching him do it. Martha grimaced. “Do you know much about the soul bond that happens in marriage?” “No,” Harry answered, trying to not panic as Ginny cried out further. “It is sealed by being intimate that first time, and it is strengthened as the relationship progresses. Usually that happens because the newlyweds can’t keep their hands off each other,” Martha explained gently. “In your case it never had the chance. I was hoping to avoid this, but it looks like we’ve reached the crossroads. Pregnant witches are often, uhm, more vulnerable to feeling the separation than they were before they conceived. The bond between the husband and wife can begin to feel weaker to them if the couple goes too long without having sex and the pregnant witches will especially start to crave it like you might crave food. I’ve seen something similar to this in another couple who used magical impregnation and was asked to abstain. It wasn’t this severe, though. You might know the feeling I’m talking about, even if you can’t name it. Certainly when it goes away you will be able to identify that it was there.” Something Arthur had told him came back to him. It’s like having your heart walking around outside of your body. “What do we do?” Harry asked, hesitating. “You two are going to be intimate but just the once,” Martha told him with a wry smile. “Not doing so would cause more damage than harm, especially if she is reacting like this.” “But she’s asleep!” Harry said, horrified. Martha patted his arm. “I’m going to wake her with magic, which is not something I would normally do to someone in the midst of a nightmare as it’s very unsettling, but then I’m going to leave and have Kreacher take me back home so you can help each other feel better. Just be gentle and slow.” Harry stared at her, completely stunned. “But… but the baby…” Martha put her wand over Ginny. “The baby will be hurt more if we can’t get Ginny to calm down. Her body and soul are signaling that this is what she needs. When I come back in a few hours we can discuss this.” “This is just about the weirdest thing I’ve ever had happen,” Harry muttered, running a distracted hand over the back of his head. “And I’ve led an exceptionally strange life.” “You’re not going to argue with me, are you?” she asked, and when he shook his head Martha let out a snort. “Good, I’d hoped not.” He watched as she waved her wand and Ginny let out a gasp of surprise, sitting up. “What?” Ginny looked at Martha who patted her hand reassuringly before moving aside. Harry went to her and he heard Martha walk out and close the door. Harry kissed her again and Ginny melted into him. He deepened the kiss, gently laying her back down and running his fingers into her hair. Later, when they lay together drifting off, it finally registered what Martha had meant, like something had been digging in his heart and that it had been steadily getting worse over the last day or so. But it was gone now, replaced only by a bone deep contentment. |
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