Thank you Arnel for your amazing help!!!!
Okay, take a deep breath, this chapter is not so bad. It's not the misery that the last two were. I hope you like it.
|
Bound | ||||||
|
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: 139158; Chapter Total: 7468 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
Sunday August 30th They sat, side by side, holding hands as the light fog swirled around them in the early morning chill. Their thighs brushed as Ginny shifted on the bench to lay her head on Harry’s shoulder. There were no tears at this moment as she gazed upon Hope’s grave. There had been tears earlier, and there would be tears later, but for this moment she felt too hollow for tears. It had been a week since her baby had died and a week since she’d held her last. Ginny was able to walk around the house, eat small meals without getting sick, and getting upset no longer left her bedridden. They should have been real victories, but they were empty in the face of what it had cost her. Harry put his arm around her shoulders and she sighed as she leaned in to him, snaking her arms around his waist. He kissed the crown of her head. “I’m going to take another week off.” “Okay,” Ginny said. It wasn’t a surprise to her. She closed her eyes, just for a moment to enjoy the smell of him, and to soak up his warmth in the unusual chill of the day. “How has it already been a week?” she asked suddenly. “I don’t know,” Harry told her. “It feels like it was just yesterday, and then sometimes like a few years ago.” She knew exactly what he meant. Ginny still hurt all the time. Her heart ached constantly and the thought of leaving their house and facing the rest of the world was so daunting that she was glad that she didn’t have to. But as her mum had said, she’d made it out of bed and there were times when the grief ebbed enough for her to be present without being absolutely miserable. Grief was like that. Even if it was constantly there, it didn’t always make itself boldly known. “Harry? Ginny?” Ginny turned and saw Audrey walking towards them. The two stood and after Ginny unhooked her feeding line bag, she began to walk, Harry following with the pole. She was hopeful that the line was coming out today. They didn’t say much as they made their way back to the house and up to their bedroom. Ginny lay down for what was now her routine check. Audrey examined her, checked her weight, palpitated her uterus to make sure it was still shrinking down in size and checked to make sure there was still no poison showing up in her system. The only day that it had varied had been three days before when Ginny’s milk had come in. Feeling her breasts swell and become painful had been a slap in the face. The pain was nothing; that was less than meaningless. It was knowing she now had milk for a baby who didn’t need it. Harry had held her while she cried and Audrey had pulled out a vial to dry up the milk and then hesitated for the briefest moment. “What?” Harry had asked. Audrey sighed and shook her head. “I had an idea, but I’m not sure that you want to even consider it.” She looked so unsure, so unlike herself that Ginny hardly recognized her. “What?” “It’s just… there are babies who could really use breast milk that aren’t able to get it,” Audrey explained hesitantly. “Formula is fine for a lot of babies, but some don’t thrive as well on it. You can pump your milk and donate it for a baby who has lost their mother.” Ginny had just stared at her while Harry had looked extremely flustered. “What?” “Think about it,” Audrey said quietly. “I’ll leave the potion here. You think about it, and if you want to dry up your milk everyone will understand.” Ginny had only needed to think about it for an hour before deciding that pumping her milk was something she wanted to do to honor Hope’s life. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Audrey had brought a pump for her, showed her how to use it, and she now had bags of milk stored in a magically cooled chest near their bed. “Your weight is down a bit more,” Audrey commented. “I expected that. You’re down to nearly your pre-pregnancy weight and you are still showing no signs of the poison. Has the bleeding slowed?” “Yes, it’s pretty much like a normal period now,” Ginny told her. “How is pumping going?” “It’s good,” Ginny told her, sitting up again. “Do you have a baby yet?” Audrey nodded. “I do, actually. Her mother was killed shortly before the last battle and she’d been steadily losing weight until she switched to donated breast milk. However, our first donor got pregnant again and her milk dried up almost overnight.” “I’m… I’m glad I can help,” Ginny said, looking down at her lap, to her entwined fingers. “Martha or I will collect the milk once a week. You can continue as long as you want and if you want to stop, we will understand. The baby will be one near Christmas so our goal is to keep her on the milk until that point if we can.” Ginny nodded, not looking up. “I have something else for you that you need to make a decision on,” Audrey said as she pulled out two different bags of vials from her bag. One said ‘180 Days Supply’ and the other said ‘365 Days Supply’. “These are the birth control potions. Normally, I would give you the potion that would last for six months but that would dry up your milk completely. I’m leaving you with a calendar and every four weeks you will need to take one vial, for at least the next six months. Which duration do you want; six months or a year?” Ginny looked at the bags, then over at Harry who was sitting next to her. “Which should I take?” “It’s up to you,” Harry said quietly, squeezing her hand. “It’s your body.” “I’m going to give you two a minute,” Audrey said and she left, closing the door. She looked into his eyes. “This is our family. You have a say on when we have more kids.” Harry leaned in and kissed her tenderly, cupping her cheek. “If you want to play Quidditch, then it needs to be a year.” Ginny had written to Gwenog Jones on Tuesday at Harry’s insistence. She’d met her through Slughorn years before, and had heard back from her the next day saying that if Ginny wanted a spot on the Harpies, she had a guarantee for the reserves with a chance to try for the first team the next year. She’d watched Ginny play in the first match of her fifth year and she’d told Ginny at Slughorn’s Christmas party later that year that she wanted her for the team when she was done with school. At the time Ginny had been stunned and flattered, but it had seemed like such a long way off. Of course that had been before Hope. It had been before she’d started to plan to be a wife and a mother. “I don’t know what to do.” “You can just keep the 6 vials and decide later,” Harry reasoned, rubbing her back. “You have to take at least that.” That seemed so prudent, so well-reasoned. “But what if I want to take the one for a year?” “Then take that one,” he said. “Ginny, it doesn’t mean anything about Hope. We love her, and we were doing the best we could under the circumstances.” “But neither of us would have wanted to have kids this soon,” Ginny said, finishing off the thought and feeling a small measure of guilt come off her chest. “I just feel like I’m saying I didn’t want her.” Harry took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, his vivid green eyes meeting her brown ones. “No. You wouldn’t be grieving like this if you didn’t want her.” “So…” Ginny looked between the bottles. “Let’s maybe decide on a year by year basis if we’re going to have a baby. After I stop pumping I guess I can take a bigger dose then… maybe…” “I think that sounds like a good plan,” he said gently as she reached for a vial from the one year bag and drank it in one go. Audrey came back in a minute later and put the other bag back in her bag. “I’ll let Martha know and she’ll send you an owl next year to remind you to get the next round of potions. You can decide on a larger dose at any point, though. There is no way to reverse this, so you cannot get pregnant again until four weeks from now, but I cannot stress enough that it would be dangerous for you to get pregnant in the next six months.” “I understand,” Ginny promised, tucking her long hair behind her ears. “Also,” Audrey hesitated only for a moment. “It takes a few hours for it to work, so don’t be intimate before tomorrow.” They both nodded, although truthfully neither had really felt like it over the last week. “What about the feeding line?” Ginny asked, really wanting to get rid of it. “I want to keep it in,” Audrey told her and Ginny’s heart sank. “Hear me out. You want to be strong enough to try out for professional Quidditch and you’re pumping. Both of those require more from your body. I think if we give it at least another week that you’ll be much better off and ready to start training and getting back into shape.” “I really wanted to go to King’s Cross to see Hermione and Luna off to school,” Ginny explained, but at the neutral expression on Audrey’s face she sighed. “You weren’t going to clear me to do that, were you?” Audrey shook her head. “No, I want you staying here for at least another few weeks.” “All right,” Ginny sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter if it stays in, then.” ~*~ Monday September 14th “Are you sure?” Harry asked, hovering in the door. “Go,” Ginny ordered, walking over to kiss him. He’d stayed home this whole time with her. They’d cried, and grieved. They’d laughed once or twice. They’d made love, and held each other for hours. They sat by Hope’s grave every day. The pain was still there. The hole in her heart that Hope had taken with her remained unfilled, and Ginny accepted it as she accepted every scar that she carried. It was time to get out of bed and to keep living until she was alive again. “I’m going to George’s shop for a few hours anyway.” Harry frowned at her. “I still don’t like it.” “I’ll be fine,” she promised. “No one but George will know I’m there. I’ll stay in the back the whole time. I’ll keep my new and improved DA galleon in my pocket just in case something happens so that I can Portkey home. If I’m going to join the Harpies next month, you have to let go.” “I don’t want to let go,” Harry sighed, turning away to run his hand distractedly through his already messy hair. “I want to wrap you in cotton wool and keep you in the house.” Ginny crossed her arms and looked up at him. “How’s that going to play out?” “You’ll hex me and walk over my body on your way out the door,” Harry said, a reluctant grin spreading on his face. “I can want it, though, even if I can’t do anything about it.” She shook her head and hugged him. “We both have to face the world now.” “Yeah, but…” “What?” She asked. “Rita Skeeter wrote a book about me,” Harry admitted. “Hermione says she was really fair to you in it, although most of the story is rubbish.” Ginny nodded slowly. “Okay, so I might encounter some of the press from that while I’m out.” “Yeah,” he said, cupping the back of her head and leaning down for a kiss. “Alright, I’m off. I’m leaving at five o’clock.” Ginny nodded. “I love you, and I’ll see you later.” After he’d gone, she went about getting dressed and went down to find Kreacher in the kitchen cleaning up from Harry’s breakfast. She went for some juice. “Good morning, Mistress, would you like something to eat?” “Thanks, I can get it,” Ginny told him. “You’ve been working really hard and I appreciate it.” “Kreacher is just doing his duty, Mistress,” the elf croaked. “I am glad to see you up and moving.” “I’m glad to be up and moving,” Ginny replied as she went about scrambling some eggs and frying up bacon. “I have a favor to ask and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I really want to make dinner tonight.” Kreacher just looked at her as if he couldn’t hear her through the white hair that stuck out of his ears. “It’s just…” Ginny bit her lip, trying to think up how to say it without hurting him. “I know I can’t cook as well as you do, but it shows love to cook for someone.” Kreacher nodded once, still not speaking. “So just tonight,” she said hurriedly, wanting to reassure him, “I want to make Harry’s dinner, but I do need some help. I can’t go to the market for food. I promised I wouldn’t go out in public today except to my brother’s shop. Can you do that for me if I give you a list?” “Yes Mistress, Kreacher would be happy to do the marketing,” he said with a bow. Ginny wrote out a list of what she needed while she ate breakfast and left it out for Kreacher before traveling by Floo powder to the Burrow, breast pump and storage supplies in hand. Their house was still only connected to her parents’ Floo. Her mum fussed over her and only reluctantly let her go so she could Floo to George’s flat above his shop. “I’m here,” Ginny called out as she entered. “Hey, Smidge,” George said coming out from the tiny kitchen. “I’m glad you’re up and about,” he told her, giving her a hard hug. “Me, too,” Ginny agreed with a twinge in her gut. “Where can I store this?” “What is it?” George asked, coming over to look in the bag. “A breast pump,” Ginny smiled sweetly. Stumbling back a bit as though it had fangs, George shook his head. “Uh, over here,” he said, point to an end table. “I’m going to take breaks a few times to pump, so knock before you come in, alright?” She instructed and George nodded, looking faintly ill. “So what am I doing today?” Inventory; lots and lots of inventory. It was dirty, sweaty and sometimes dangerous work moving around all the boxes of products and making sure they were all labeled correctly, but it was also rewarding. George had ordered his few staff members to stay out of the back so she was left alone to do something useful. It had been about five days since she’d had the feeding line removed and she’d been afraid that she would feel weak without it, but all of her strength was coming back as though it had never left. George broke for lunch and they went up to his flat to have sandwiches and talk. At around three o’clock Ginny told him she was knocking off for the day. “Slacker,” George grumbled good-naturedly. “I’m slave labor here,” Ginny pointed out. “I can leave whenever I want.” “If you were actually a slave you’d never leave,” George retorted then gave her a hug. “Come back any time.” “I probably will tomorrow,” Ginny told him. “I have a few weeks before Quidditch and I’m not ready to be on a broom for hours a day. Audrey said I need to work up to that and this is a good work out.” George shook his head. “Especially when you don’t move the boxes with magic.” ~*~ Harry’s first day back had gone about how he’d expected. He’d stayed out of most people’s way, just trying to get back into the rhythm of things in the training room. No one had said much, except Susan who’d said she was sorry. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, and he couldn’t think too much about Hope or he’d just break down again. A good, hard training session was just what he’d needed. Plus it gave him time to think as he rapidly fired spells at the training dummies. He knew there was something he’d missed in all of this. There was something nagging at the back of his brain, begging him to remember. It was almost as if he’d forgotten to ask a very important question about who might have done this to them. But the more he tried to focus on it, the more it eluded him. “Harry,” Ron called through the door, leaning on the jam. “You said to warn you at quarter to five if you were still in here.” “Yeah,” Harry said, wiping the sweat from him brow as he went to store the equipment. There was no clock in the training room so it was easy to lose track of time. “Thanks, Ron.” He made his way back to his desk, and grabbing the mail, left the Ministry to Apparate home. He walked in the front door and smelled something heavenly. It was a mixture of garlic, butter and rising bread. Instantly, his stomach growled and his mouth began to water. He hung up his cloak and walked back to the kitchen calling out, “Kreacher, that smells ama-” but froze when he saw a long mane of red hair. Ginny’s back was to him, and she had an apron on over her jeans as she worked at the stove. “Not Kreacher,” Ginny said, amusement in her voice, but she didn’t turn around. Harry walked up behind her and put his hands on her hips, leaning in to kiss her neck. She tilted her head to the side and purred contentedly. He saw that she was sautéing garlic cloves in a pan. “What’s all this?” “Dinner,” she said. “I wanted to cook tonight and I just need another few seconds.” Ginny turned the flames down lower and covered the pan before turning and winding her arms around his neck. Harry pulled her up off of her feet, his arms firmly around her waist, as he kissed her deeply. “It smells amazing. You smell amazing.” “I like to cook,” Ginny admitted with a sheepish grin. “And if you ever tell Mum I said that, I will have to hunt you down.” “On my honor I will never breathe a word,” Harry promised, setting her on the kitchen counter, and kissing his way down her collar bone. “Especially if that tastes as good as it smells.” “It will as long as it doesn’t burn,” she promised. “Now go get a shower. You stink.” Harry chuckled and it felt good, strange and off all at once but he also knew, because he’d been through this so many times in his life, that learning to laugh again after loss was a step that needed to be taken. “Alright, I’ll be back down in ten.” “Don’t rush,” Ginny said, hopping down from the counter. “It still needs twenty. Damn,” she said, opening up a cabinet and looking up. “I can tell Hermione and my mum laid out the kitchen. I can’t reach anything. Why do I have to be so short?” Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. “You are absolutely perfect. In fact we can forget dinner, and go up and find out just how absolutely perfect you are.” “I’m starving,” she told him as she turned in his arms. “Go shower.” Harry reached up for the glasses that she’d wanted and after setting them on the counter, kissed her cheek and went up to clean up. |
| Reviews 357 |
Previous Next
|
