Time Enough for Yesterday by Mirloc
Summary: Life is never fair, Ginny knows this all too well. But after suffering for years, a gift from a long dead Harry Potter changes everything, and she's decided it's time for her to correct past injustices, and damn all the costs.
Rating: R
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2004.04.29
Updated: 2004.05.03
Index
Chapter 1: Life's Not Fair
Chapter 2: Certian Inequities...
Chapter 3: That's the Wrong One!
Chapter 4: All or Nothing
Chapter 5: The Happily Ever After...
Chapter 1: Life's Not Fair
Time Enough For YesterdayGinny Weasley sat in her shabby room and stared at the one picture on her dresser not filled with children. A single picture of Harry Potter, smiling at her. Unlike the thousands of pictures used by the marketing people, this one was taken of Harry in his element, on a broom, wearing his Quidditch robes and pads.
Her thoughts traveled back to his last year, back to the last time when she had been happy, contented that the world was revolving the right way. The year before they had become deep friends, closer than Ron and Hermione, until one night near the end of term, after her O.W.L.s, they sat in the Room of Requirement and talked.
She never knew who did it, who moved, and who kissed who, but it happened, and surprised both of them spectacularly. They sat there looking at one another Harry bemused and baffled, and Ginny almost horrified. Then they came crashing together a second time, and it was marvelous. They would not be willingly parted while they were awake after that.
It had been a spectacular game, they had won, and Harry, in the picture forever caught the snitch, and held it aloft in triumph. They trounced Slytherin, and Harry had once again outsmarted Malfoy. It had been a brutal game; Slytherin up to their old tricks and in spades, yet the Gryffindor players kept up with it all, and were victorious in the end. It was as things should have been. Ginny and Harry had managed to sneak away into the Room of Requirement for an after-game snog, that turned into much more. Not like it had been the first time, heavens no.
He would be dead less than twenty four hours after the picture was taken. He would be slain during the final confrontation with Riddle. She had watched it happen, not from the safety of the tower, not from afar, no she had been beside him, had heard his last words, and the last bit of air to escape Harry Potter’s mouth fluttered into hers.
It had taken her several years to get over his death, during that time Zachary Taylor had pursued her, and in the end she admitted defeat and married him. Their marriage had produced three children; Michael, Charles, and Robert. Ginny had so wanted a daughter, but over time it became apparent Zach had wanted something more than Ginny, and she caught him in his infidelities. He had blamed it all on the fact Ginny didn’t really love him that he’d been living in the shadow of a long dead Harry Potter.
He began drinking heavily, and by the time they had their tenth anniversary, they were separated, seven years later she was as single as witches can be when their husbands were still alive, living in a cottage Harry had purchased for them. It had been his promise to her, she would never be at a want for a place to stay, and Harry’s money had been turned over to her and her alone.
It was as if Harry had foreseen the future. Zach had been extremely displeased to find that Ginny was able to live in relative comfort off the money left to her by an old lover, a man who had carefully manipulated himself into the heart of his wife so thoroughly, that Ginny obeyed a man dead now twenty two years, rather than her husband.
It was in the last few years of marriage, that things had truly gone badly for the couple. Ginny withdrew from Zach, and the department that Zach worked in cut a few jobs. Zach had been let go, needing money he begged Ginny to use some of the money left to them by Potter. The argument had been spectacular; Ginny informed him in no uncertain terms that the money had been left to take care of her, not her family.
Zach had seen the items Ginny had purchased over the years with Potter’s gold. Every Valentine’s, Christmas and birthday Ginny had received a gift that Potter had apparently purchased years ago, and was releasing them three times a year. Jewelry, flowers, and trinkets to remind her of his love.
The first time Zach struck Ginny had been on Valentine’s Day the year he had been laid off. A dozen roses, blood red had arrived in a crystal vase worth more than the monthly payment on their house. A note had accompanied the flowers. “To the one who holds the only key to my heart. HP” He had left that night returning only after three days of separation, begging her to let him back in. She did, and the cycle started again on her birthday. A diamond and platinum bracelet arrived from her dead lover, again informing her of the depth of his devotion; it had taken Zach two weeks of pleading to come back after that incident.
Over the years it had become easier to go off on Ginny, and she found it was easier to simply let him continue. She began to view the punishment as penance for the gifts Harry was bestowing upon her.
It all changed on her birthday. Harry sent her a book. A simple leather bound book, not wholly unlike Riddle’s diary from her first year. An older, and wiser Ginny opened it, and found emblazoned in gold print the words that would set her free.
To Mrs. Virginia Potter, without whom there is no possible way I could have defeated Voldemort. To her I give not only my heart, but my very soul. For I could think of no more honorable keeper of the essence of me, than the redheaded witch who stole my very essence.
Harry Potter
The book was a copy of Riddle’s diary, loaded with the memories, and life of Harry Potter at the age of eighteen. Zach had been furious, and Ginny knew he would hurt her; he stormed out of the house glaring daggers at her. She locked the doors, windows and grate, her children cowered in fear.
With a shaking hand, she wrote in the small book.
Oh god Harry, why can’t you stop this?
As if reliving a nightmare, the ink seeped into the page, and Harry’s scrawl oozed forth. Stop what my love?
Zach is going to hurt me Harry, your gifts are too much, it’s killing him.
The page remained blank. Who in the hell is Zach? If he so much as looks at you funny, floo me, I’ll take care of the bastard.
You can’t.
Bullshit Gin, I’ll kill him if he harms you.
You can’t. You can’t because Harry, you’ve been dead for almost twenty years.
The book remained silent. Then, without expecting it, Ginny felt herself fall into the book, and she watched her and Harry kissing and making out, declaring their love and acting on it for the first time ever. They had returned to the common room just after eleven, and McGonagall had sent them off to bed at half one.
She snapped out of the past and had a determined look in her eyes. “Children, pack your things. Hurry now, before your father returns.” They did as they were told, and Ginny dug through her jewelry box, and pulled out a ring Harry had given her just before going out to the final battle. It was a one time Portkey to their cottage. Protected, and warded almost as heavily as Hogwarts, it was the rally point for the couple; Ginny never activated the ring, so it should still work. Shrinking their things, she activated the ring, holding her children close.
He would never have the satisfaction of touching her again, ever. The wards around the cottage were put into place by Harry and Dumbledore, in the early days of the war. Mad-Eye himself has inspected them, tested them and approved them for Harry’s needs.
They appeared in the house, it was surreal, just like they had left it, clean not a speck of dust. On their arrival, Dobby poked his head out from the kitchens. “Miss Weazey! You returns! Dobby is keeping your house for you, but you did not come, but Dobby knows, he knows you would need to come home, so he keeps your house for you, he keeps your house ready all the time.”
Ginny looked around, indeed Dobby had kept the house clean, and everything in order. She knelt “These are my children Dobby.”
Dobby bowed and smiled to the children. “Will Harry Potter be arriving soon as well Miss Weazey? Dobby misses his master so…”
Ginny couldn’t speak. “Not — not right away Dobby, perhaps not at all.”
Dobby nodded. “Harry Potter’s life was never an easy one.” He placed a comforting hand on Ginny’s arm. “But Dobby is here to make Miss Weazey’s life better, as Harry Potter had asked Dobby to do.”
Ginny nodded, and swallowed her heart. “Children, upstairs. You’ll find rooms for you already; I’ll bring you your things in the morning. For now, just go to bed please.”
She stayed up that night talking with Dobby. As the children rose, Dobby took care of them, and Ginny fell asleep in the bed her and Harry had shared once. She fell asleep holding the journal, and dreamed of him smiling at her, telling her it would be alright, that she did the right thing.
Ron visited her that next morning. She spilled it all, the abuse, both physical and verbal, the cheating, lying and jealousy. When Ron left his face was grim, he had a set expression, and returned several hours later nursing his hand, and delivering the last of Ginny’s personal things as well as an assurance Zach wound not contact her again.
It was a turning point in Ginny’s life, she delved into the books in Harry’s room, at night she dreamed of Harry, she wrote him in the black journal, and withdrew from the world, coming up for air only to make sure her children were being well cared for.
It took three years of her new life. On October 31st, a forty year old Virginia Weasley recited a spell that she had found in a combination of books, and felt a pull not wholly unlike a Portkey. Going against every single warning Hermione had given her, and striking out alone warning Dobby not to disturb her until the next morning.
When her vision cleared, it was to find Harry Potter about to kiss her. She gasped, and jerked her head back, staring with wonder at Harry, memorizing his face, touching him, and finally kissing him deeply. They were in the room of requirement, and they had been snogging for quite some time. This was the night; she knew it the night she had lost her virginity to Harry.
She remembered the time vividly; she had felt oddly detached from herself, as if she were too full of Ginny to hold her younger self. She had watched in muted fascination as she performed things with Harry her young mind had no idea she knew how to do, yet the proof was in the pudding, as it were. Yet tonight, now she was very much in herself, and her body sang with his touches and caresses.
As they lay satiated in each others arms, Ginny felt fire coursing through her veins, she turned to Harry. “Can we stay here tonight, you and I?” That’s funny; I don’t remember saying that… Ginny thought to herself. We snogged some more and went back to the tower.
Harry looked at his watch, and a look of almost fear crossed his face. “Bloody hell Ginny, it’s past two!”
Ginny sat upright, causing her torso to be exposed again. Harry’s eyes were drawn to her chest as Ginny looked wildly around. No, this isn’t right! We were back in the dorm by eleven, I remember that well. “Er, well we may as well stay then, eh Potter? Harry! My eyes are up here!” She placed her hand under his chin, and forced him to look up.
Harry blinked and nodded dumbly. “Sure, yeah we can stay…”
She rolled back and he wrapped himself around her, pressing into her back. Grinning mischievously, she wriggled her bum and Harry groaned. Thank Merlin for youthful energy. She thought. It was four thirty when they finally fell asleep exhausted.
Ginny woke the next morning in Harry’s office, she blinked a few times, and felt her mind reeling, and she needed something for her headache. “Dobby!” She called out weakly.
“Yes Missus?” Dobby’s face appeared around the corner.
“I have a horrible headache, could you fix something?”
“Certainly Missus.” Dobby vanished.
“Mother, are you alright?” A young woman with sleek black hair and startlingly emerald eyes peered around the corner. Ginny’s mouth opened, but words failed to come out.
Chapter 2: Certian Inequities...
Time Enough For YesterdayGinny’s mind reeled; a wash of memories struggled to remain part of her mind. A pregnancy while at Hogwarts? A scandal about Harry Potter’s child? A difficult childbirth, long after the child’s father lay in his grave, she had been named Megan. No! They had always been careful, no pregnancy! But standing before her was most obviously Harry Potter’s child. Why it was a wonder the poor girl didn’t have a scar on her forehead. Ginny’s head spun with emotions, memories and waves of guilt. She had forgotten, in her need to touch Harry she had forgotten to cast the charm to protect them both.
She looked up with bleary eyes, and stood before her daughter, and held her close. “I’m fine dear, I — I just feel under the weather and needed something for this cursed headache.” She has her father’s eyes, no doubt about it. Her hair appeared to have missed the wraith of the Potter Hair Curse as Harry had called it one time, smooth and long, yet black as coal.
Megan smiled sadly. “Uncle Ron wanted me to remind you that you had a meeting today, he was sure you’d forget. The boys are playing out back with their toys, and Dobby is keeping an eye on them.”
Meeting? Ginny’s eyes widened. “I — What meeting dear?” Her mind was a mess, she couldn’t be sure what dreams, thoughts, were and memories that were real. It was all very confusing trying to piece it together and was just aggravating the
Megan half smiled, a crooked grin inherited from her father. “Wizengamot ring a bell?”
A letter, appointment to the Wizengamot, her seat was vacated recently by Amelia Bones, something about her wanting to spend less time dawdling with law. Ginny’s head throbbed. “Dobby, please hurry…” She slid down the wall, her head nearly splitting with agony. Was this what Harry had felt so long ago?
Her mind was reeling, memories overlapping, fighting for control in her brain. She didn’t realize she had passed out until her eyes opened in her room, and a healer was standing over her. “Mrs Weasley? You are awake then?”
Ginny nodded her brain still awash with conflicting memories, colliding and fighting for dominance. “I think I am at least…” His face is oddly familiar, but I can't quite place him. Sandy brown hair, and a kind face, and his voice seemed to echo out of the past hauntingly familiar.
The healer nodded. “Mrs. Weasley, I’ve left a series of potions with your daughter, see to it that you take them all and in order.” The healer turned to Megan. “Floo me if this happens again.” She worried over the cost of a healer to come to visit her, and the look must have shown.
Megan nodded, and sat by her mother. “Mum? You were clutching your head and babbling, I — I know we don’t have enough to pay for a private healer, but dad…” Her voice caught in her throat. “Dad saved his life; he’s seeing you for free.”
Ginny nodded mutely. The healer, his name was familiar. Christmas cards, a wreath at Harry’s funeral. Creevey, the healer was Dennis Creevey. No! Wait he died in the war! Ginny’s eyes went wide again. “Megan, my journal… Where is it?” Her mind was beginning to reel again, echoes of the past mixing with the old and new memories.
Megan handed the battered journal to her mother. Ginny obediently took her potion series and fell into a deep sleep, the journal tucked close to her. In her dreams she was in the Gryffindor common room, alone sitting on a small couch her toes warming by the fire. She noticed the socks were Harry’s Quidditch socks, and a smile lit her face.
“Those are my lucky socks you know. I’ll need them for the game tomorrow against Ravenclaw.” Harry eased himself down beside her. His hand rested on her stomach, a small bulge where their child was growing. “It’s a shame our star chaser will be benched for my final chance to beat Chang to the snitch.”
Ginny punched his arm. “It’s entirely your fault you know.”
Harry grinned. “But of course Madame Potter and I would not want it any other way.”
“Harry stop it, we aren’t married.”
“Yet. Come on Ginny, just say yes.” Harry bent down on his knees. “I’m begging you for what, the twentieth time.”
The scene shifted, as if about to start over, Ginny felt a tug, and a wild sensation, the fire was warm, pleasant in the chilly October night. A slight butterfly stirring in her stomach, and her eyes widened. Megan… she thought. Her hand moved to her mouth.
“Those are my lucky socks you know…” Her head whipped around Harry stood there looking at her with a smirk on his face. She leapt into his arms and kissed him fiercely. “Oi, Ginny! I just went to the loo.”
They snuggled down in the couch. Ginny held him fiercely fear that Harry was going to be ripped from her again. “I’m not going to run off you know.” Chuckling he patted her hand, knuckles almost white in a desperate attempt to hold onto him.
Blushing, she released her death grip on his arm. “I — I’m sorry Harry, I just missed you.”
He chuckled. “I’ve only been gone ten minutes. He placed his hand on her stomach, “So how is the littlest Potter then?” His eyes traveled to her stomach and his smile broadened.
Ginny looked him square in the eyes and said “Yes.”
A rapid series of emotions passed through Harry’s eyes. “Well, um, that wasn’t really a yes or no question, so let’s back up a few steps, what exactly are you saying yes to?” A look of hope flashed across his eyes.
“Us, you and I getting married. Let’s do it. Now. Dumbledore is a member of the Wizengamot, and can marry people.” She laced her fingers through his hand. “I don’t want to wait any longer. I don’t want to lose you.”
Harry frowned. “I — Only if this is what you truly want, and not because some cow like Parkinson got to you. You aren’t going to lose me.”
The knowledge of the future sent chills through her Yes I am Harry, you are going to be dead in six months. “No, I want this. More than anything else, I want this.” She held him close. “I want to be your wife.”
Harry’s grin widened. “I’ll get Ron, you get Hermione, and we’ll go straight away. Dumbledore is expecting me anyway.” He tore off to the stairs, and skidded to a stop, ran back and kissed her passionately. “You are sure?”
Ginny swatted him. “Yes now go before I come to my senses.” She grinned cheekily at Harry, who smiled and took off again for the stairs. Ginny walked up the stairs to the Head Girls room and knocked.
Hermione bleary eyed from homework and Head duties barely had time to register it was Ginny. “Come on Hermione, let’s go.” Ginny pulled on her friends arm, dragging Hermione behind her.
“You are completely barmy aren’t you?” Hermione said looking horrified at Ginny. “It’s past one, what are you doing up and where in the bloody hell are you taking me?”
Ginny laughed. “Ron’s wearing off on you it seems. I need you to be a witness.”
Hermione was getting irritated. “This had better be good Weasley…” She hissed.
“Not Weasley, Potter.” Ginny grinned back.
The words met with some resistance at first, but suddenly it sank in. “You and Harry?”
“You know another Potter then?” Ginny asked pulling Hermione through the portrait hole.
“Well, no…but, I thought you wanted to wait until after you graduated.”
Ginny stopped and framed her belly with her hands. “Well we didn’t wait for this. So I figured why should I wait for the benefits.” She winked and started dragging Hermione through the halls to Dumbledore’s office.
“Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow though?” Hermione asked sounding a bit whiney.
“No, it has to be now, I — I can’t really explain it, it’s just a feeling.”
Satisfied Hermione nodded, and allowed Ginny to continue their headlong rush to Dumbledore’s office.
Dragging Ron and Hermione to Dumbledore’s office had been easy compared to convincing Dumbledore to officiate. Finally Harry pulled the last straw. “You’ll do it Professor, because I’m Harry Potter, and because you know what I need to do. I want this, Ginny wants this, and that’s all that matters.”
Sighing wearily he agreed, and performed a simple ceremony. Ron and Hermione acted as witnesses and best man and maid of honor. Dumbledore arranged for them to stay in the empty Gryffindor Head Boy’s room for the remainder of the term.
Ginny woke with another headache, again memories were interfering, colliding, contradicting. With a weakened voice she called out in pain. Megan appeared almost instantly. “Mum? What’s wrong?”
“My head.” Ginny managed. “Call Creevy.”
Megan nodded and vanished appearing with Dennis in tow. “We really must stop meeting like this Mrs. Potter, my wife will suspect something is up.” He joked.
He checked her over and frowned. “This is damned peculiar, the last time I saw symptoms like this was years ago, a woman who had overused a Time Turner. Oddest thing, she kept claiming her memories were having a difficult time meshing together. Wound up taking several months off to get her mind straight.”
Ginny’s memories were a mess. She remembered refusing Harry’s proposal, getting married, not being married, three funerals, pregnant at two of them, and at one of them with Harry’s name. Her brain was overloading on memories, each one fighting for dominance. I should stop the spell… I should…
“Mum, this came for you.” A package with Harry’s scrawl, in it laid a stone bowl with ancient runes carved along the sides. She recognized it instantly; the Pensive Harry had shown her. He had showed her how to use it and she began just then, extracting the memories that she didn’t want, the headache lessened with each extraction, and the memories dimmed into the distant past.
She was up and about then, and suddenly realized something. Megan was her only child. She had never married Zach, they had had no children. She had wanted no other man since the death of Harry, and had gone about her life being chastised that seventeen was too young to be a widow, and not move on with her life. But they had buried her capacity for love that day, she would never move on.
Inside a part of her felt itself die. She had traded three loving children for a name. How horrible of a person was she? But then again, the trade had included her daughter, and the knowledge that Dennis Creevey had survived, and become quite a healer in his own right. No doubt saving many more people because her husband had given his life to protect them.
They had tea, and a young man came to call on Megan, Jared was his name, Jared Thomas, the young man was Dean’s eldest child, a year younger than Megan. He was a sweet boy, with many of his father’s more charming qualities. Didn’t look a bit like him though, took after his mother; a Muggle Dean had met working as an Auror.
Ginny smiled as the pair went off to some Muggle thing called a show. Megan would no doubt tell her about it as soon as they got back. Ginny slipped into a nice warm bath, and prepared her room for the next trip back. Inside a bit of dread as to what else would be changed, what else would she need to sacrifice for this?
The first trip she had woken with Harry holding her. The second she felt herself coming back as they fell asleep as husband and wife, a significantly smaller amount of time. A plan was forming in her mind. The germination of which happened this morning when Megan had entered the study. She might be able to save Harry Potter after all.
Chapter 3: That's the Wrong One!
Time Enough For YesterdayShe fell into a fitful sleep, in her dreams Harry stood before her looking cross. “How many people have you hurt Ginny?”
“I don’t care.” She stomped her foot. “I’ll hurt every last one of them to get you back.”
“What about Megan?”
Ginny stood transfixed in his gaze. “What — No of course not.”
“What if you had to choose?” Harry looked at her sadly and walked away.
Ginny’s eyes snapped open, her bed clothes soaked in sweat, and yet she was chilled to the bone by the dream. Oh sweet Merlin please let it only be a dream. Shaking she stripped off the soaked nightgown and reaching absentmindedly in the closet removed an old shirt of Harry’s and buttoned it up.
She padded down to the kitchen to make some hot cocoa, even after all these years, it did marvelous things for her. No other beverage, alcoholic or not could compare to the soothing effects of a strong cocoa. When she finished, she returned to her room, and lay down on the bed, drifting off to sleep, her mind still heavy with the dream of Harry.
Waking at midnight Ginny pondered this a bit before the first wave of nausea hit her. She looked about, and in the dim light recognized the Head Boy’s room and the private loo. She fled into it, her feet on autopilot, and her brain reeling with the implications. Oh god, not this again, what a cruel, sick joke…
As she made her slightly shaky way back to the bed they shared Harry lifted his head and looked at her with sleep bleary eyes. “Can I get you anything?” He asked his voice thick.
“No. Merlin it’s supposed to be morning sickness.”
Harry fumbled a bit with the clock. “Well it is half three, so technically it is morning.”
“Next time, I’m going to just be sick on you and technically you’ll still be a prat.” She huffed.
Harry laughed. “I learned a cleaning charm today, I can fix that.” He wrapped his hands around her and nuzzled her neck.
“Harry, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Ginny asked wishing for a cup of tea, and suddenly her mind reeled again. I can’t tell him. He — he would never believe me…
“What Ginny?” He asked pulling her so she snuggled into him.
Ginny sighed she’d done it now, she wracked her brain a moment, and then inspiration, What was really the meat of the problem? Why not ask him what is really bothering her? “What if you had to make a choice, a decision between me and our child…”
Harry placed a finger gently on her lips. “I’m not going anywhere, and I surely am not taking our baby away from you.”
Damn him, that’s not what I mean. She changed tactics. “No! I mean what if one of us had to die…”
Harry nodded. “This is like the dream where you gave birth to a fully cooked turkey, isn’t it?”
Ginny glared at him. “You promised!” She pulled away from him crossing her arms over her chest. How bloody thick can you be Potter? Well, he is only seventeen after all. “See if I tell you any of my dreams again…” Tears started to trickle down her eyes. She was being irrational, and she knew it, but what pregnant sixteen year old was ever rational?
“Look I’m sorry Ginny, I’ve not had a lot of sleep, and you are asking me questions I can’t answer. I can’t make a decision like that. On the one hand I could never allow anything to happen to you, and on the other hand that’s our child. I don’t know what he…” Ginny glared at him. “Ok, ok, or she is going to be like, all I know is that I love you both, and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
Ginny turned to him. “I — I think I have seen something Harry.” Harry snorted, and she punched his arm. “I’m being serious here so stop it. I think I have to choose between the two of you.” Great, I sound like Trelawney, this is just wonderful.
Harry pulled her tight again. “It’s an easy choice love.” Her eyes went wide with fear, bolstered by a wave of hope, Harry would know the answer. “You choose neither, you are a Potter now, and we make our own choices.” His words echoed in her ears, and as Harry began to fall into a deep sleep; Ginny followed him, her mind working overtime. We make our choices. She snorted. What in the hell kind of answer is that?
Ginny woke, her head splitting and with a hand that trembled she drank the potions Creevey had left and using the Pensive drained the old memories again, banishing them to the past, and easing the pressure in her head.
She walked into the bathroom to take a shower, feeling the cleansing water wash away the cobwebs of sleep, and the dampness of the night sweats. She toweled herself dry and brushed her teeth, and as she put away the toothbrush, tears rolled down her eyes. Her toothbrush was the only one.
She shook herself, and returned to the bedroom to get clothing, and she walked downstairs. “Good to see you are up.” Neville Longbottom sat in a chair and smiled at her warmly. “Well I’m off to work love.” He kissed her cheek and strolled out of the house.
Ginny stood in the living room for a long count to twenty and in a rage she hadn’t felt in years boiled up and over. “That’s the bloody damned well wrong one!” She shouted.
A head peaked from the doorway. “Mum? What’s wrong?” A little boy, his brown hair was darker than Neville’s and his eyes were a softer brown, but there was no doubt this was hers and Neville’s boy.
“Oh bloody hell.” She muttered. Well, I’ve certainly cocked this up haven’t I? “Nothing dear, please go finish your breakfast.”
The door opened a few minutes later and Megan walked in. Relief flowed through Ginny. “Megan?” She asked “Where have you been?”
Megan looked at her and smiled. “I went to see dad. Neville said to let you have a lay in, so I figured we could go later on.”
Ginny felt ice flow down her back. The memories surged forward. Harry didn’t die! No, a curse, he had been driven mad, just like Neville’s parents. That’s why they were together, they Neville spent time with his parents and would talk to Ginny. He pulled her out of the depression and they had moved on.
“How…” she asked carefully.
Megan shook her head and handed her mother an empty Chocolate Frog wrapper. A tear slid down her cheek. “I got another Harry Potter.”
It was all they needed to say. Megan must have received hundreds of Chocolate Frog wrappers from her father over the years. Even in his state he still loved them, and would give the funny wrapper to his daughter, sometimes he’d remember the ones he’d saved in the drawer.
Ginny carried on with the day’s needs, and that night begged off from family obligations, Neville the sweet man he was took care of everything. Ginny prepared herself for her fourth trip back. She was half-way there, and soon would have to talk to Harry, but her time back each time had been increasingly short. She wasn’t sure she’d be ready for what was to come, but was steeling herself for the inevitable.
She felt the diary under her pillow as she fell asleep. Harry once again visited her. “You think you are being completely clever don’t you?” He pointed an accusing finger at her.
She laughed at him. “A few years ago Harry and that would have devastated me, but I am much stronger now. It’ll take a hell of a lot more than that.”
Harry folded his arms and thought. “I don’t love you.”
“You are such a bad liar Potter.” She glared at him. “Not only was that by far the worst lie you ever told, it was the weakest attempt to stop me ever.”
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say. ‘Gee saving my life would be a terrible thing. Please stop this.’” He sat and a chair appeared just as he finished sitting down. “So now what? You intend on changing the world for your happiness?”
“Bloody well right Potter, you promised me and I’m holding you to it.” This time it was her turn to point the finger. “You said you’d move the heavens and earth, so why the hell can’t I?”
“Point well taken.”
“Besides, you are only my conscious trying to get me to feel guilty and I bloody well won’t.”
Harry sat there a moment. “Do you really think this is all this is? Your mind playing tricks on you? You know better.”
“Fine, your really you. So what? You told me I was a Potter, and Potters make their own choices. So fine, here’s my choice. I’ll cast the bloody damn spell again if I have to, you are going to live.”
“I’m alive now.” Harry reasoned, holding up a Chocolate Frog card.
“Bullshit, that’s no more alive than Neville’s parents.”
“Well, I kind of thought, I mean Neville is loads better than that scummy Zach bloke.” Harry scowled thinking of Zach.
“Well as enlightening as this conversation has been Mr. Potter. I’d like to get on with saving you, if you don’t mind.”
“No, no… Just, remember Love, be careful of what you wish for.” Harry left her again, and she felt alone.
Chapter 4: All or Nothing
Time Enough For YesterdayWaking from her chat with Harry, she padded to the kitchen being careful not to wake Neville. She clutched the diary in her hand and drank the hot cocoa, savoring the taste. An hours worth of reflection later, Ginny curled up on the couch and fell asleep.
She opened her eyes and found herself in the dark, someone had their hands playfully over her eyes, and from the scent she knew it was Harry, and that’s all that mattered for now.
He removed his hands and whispered in her ear. “Surprise.”
With a slight shock Ginny realized they were in the cabin before the wards were up, it did not have the cozy, comfortable feeling of a safe home, and rather it was more of an empty shell.
“Ugh I had forgotten that horrible color!” she giggled out, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. The walls were as Ron would so ineloquently say the next day when the couple brought him and Hermione to see it. “Puke Green.”
Harry looked at her oddly. “Pardon?”
“I — well just look at it that is just a nasty color of green.” Ginny said fumbling for an appropriate lie.
“Well, I thought it went well with my eyes…”
She wheeled on him to see the smirk on his face, and barely held in laughter in his eyes. She hugged him close savoring the feel. “Oh it’s perfect Harry.”
“Well, let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you the bedrooms.” He winked at her, and she felt her insides go all fluttery. They walked hand in hand through the house, Harry pointing out their bedroom, and the other rooms for children, his den, and where they would hang pictures.
Ginny listened to him and knew he had pretty much described the house she had been living in since… Zach? Neville? Three boys… no one boy, and a girl Megan… Yes, that’s right Megan. She’s the key. Ginny’s hand moved to her round belly and rubbed it softly.
Harry smiled warmly. “So he’s playing in there?” He leaned over so his mouth was only inches from her belly. “You’ll have to come out soon, there’s only room enough in there for one of us, and I had first dibs.”
Ginny swatted him “Harry James! There is no need to be vulgar! Besides, it’s a girl.”
Harry smiled and nodded. “Sure Gin.” His tone showed he was totally unconvinced.
“You are a major git, you know that? You and my thick brother were made for each other.” She huffed, once again allowing the youthful hormones to cover up her slip up.
“I’m sorry Love, I was just teasing. Besides there was room enough for me last night.” He kissed her neck sending a very pleasurable shock through her system.
“Alright, you are forgiven, just stop being so insensitive.” She threaded her fingers though his and they began discussing paint colors and carpeting and drapes. Through it all Harry kept a mostly serious look on his face nodding and taking all of it in.
They lunched on a picnic basket he had left in the kitchen, sandwiches, cold chicken and juice became their first meal in their house. Ginny grinned the whole time. Just after lunch her stomach gave a funny twist, and she rushed for the bathroom, as she knelt down the twist became a pull, and she woke up in on the couch.
“Damn it!” she swore, and snuggled back into the blanket her mother had sewn for Harry and her for their first Christmas together. It was comfortable, and filled with down, and warm, and Harry loved it so much…
Her eyes shot open. Harry never saw this blanket… Memories washed over her again bringing the headache Harry being a royal prat on Christmas, hanging ornaments and lights at every part of the house that would support them, Ginny scolding him for being careless.
She jumped off the couch and fled to the bedroom finding it empty. Her mind reeled again, sickness not completely unlike morning sickness, but that wasn’t it, she wasn’t pregnant…
Harry’s funeral "Dammit not again!" She screamed in agony. It had been years after Voldemorts defeat. Malfoy had been right, another would rise, nature abhors a vacuum, and apparently the world abhors a world without some tosser wanting to screw things up for the world.
He was at Kings Cross, in his uniform of the M.L.E. joking with Ron… Oh god, no! Not Ron! The attack had been planned to make a statement. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Megan Potter, Hermione Weasley were all dead. Ginny hadn’t been there because their son, James had taken ill. The illness had never let up. James was buried next to his father and sister a month later.
Ginny stumbled downstairs this was an occasion for a little extra in her cocoa. With hands shaking worse than before, she made the cocoa, and slipped in a generous ‘glug’ of firewhiskey.
She drank her cocoa and watched out in the garden, a gentle wind was making the plants and trees sway in the blood red dawn light. Red skies in the morning, sailors take warning… Her mother used to spout sayings like those until Ginny had been driven nearly mad. After all, weren’t they witches and wizards? Shouldn’t they just cast a spell and find out the weather?
The day dawned, and Ginny wearily made her way to the den, to extract the conflicting memories, and to consult Harry’s journal.
Several hours later she stared into space, the conversation with a seventeen year old boy had been more or less what she had expected. He was of course no help. He tried, he really did, but Harry at seventeen was certainly no Hermione Weasley. No, this one she had to work out on her own.
Her back complained as she stood and stretched. Muscled aching, and joints complaining. She fancied a nap just then, and banishing the dishes to the kitchen caused her mother’s voice to be summoned again. Hard work is good for the soul. Magic is not the answer to everything. No, but it sure as hell made life easier.
She curled up on the soft leather sofa Harry had picked out and covered with the blanket her mother had given them, and drifted off into a deep sleep.
Harry was waiting for her again. “Welcome back dear.” He smiled his crooked smile at her.
“Mmmm. You know your diary isn’t a whole lot of help.”
“What do you expect from him? He hasn’t even defeated Voldemort.” Harry asked he was balancing his wand on the palm of his hand.
“That would be more impressive if you used the pointy end.” Ginny said watching him. His concentration suddenly lost, and he dropped the wand.
“Yes, well…” Harry stooped and picked up the wand. “I am sure you didn’t come here to watch me balance my wand…”
Ginny’s eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Oh really?”
Harry seemed a bit uncomfortable. “Erm, yeah… Ah so the plan of yours is to continue then I take it?”
“Unless you can give me a damn good reason not to.” The glint left and she glared frostily at him.
Harry nodded. “You were always headstrong. It’s one of your more endearing assets.”
Ginny snorted. “You never said that before, I believe you had your mind on other assets.”
“That’s not fair, you weren’t clothed.” Harry looked uncomfortable again. “Look, we are not here to discuss our love life, or lack thereof. I need to ask you one more time if you are certain of the path you trod. You have lost everything Love, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ginny put on her strong face and nodded to Harry, not daring to speak just yet.
“You know you still have more to lose…” He said cautiously, looking down at his hands. “I’d… I would never live with myself knowing you had done all this only to lose yourself in the process.”
She placed a hand under his chin. “Until I met you Harry Potter I was enveloped in a warm, loving family. Then you made me alive. I can’t live without you.”
He nodded. “So we understand one another then?”
She rubbed her thumb against the cool skin of his cheek. “Yes. It’s all or nothing. Either both of us make it or neither of us.”
Harry stood. “It’s time I’m off, and you wake up.” He faded away his eyes looking at her with profound sadness in them.
Chapter 5: The Happily Ever After...
Time Enough For YesterdayGinny Potter woke to another of the headaches; memories stacked one atop the other, making it difficult to navigate to the Pensive. After several attempts she finally got the disturbing memories out and into the silvery pool, and sat back in the soft leather chair and snuggled in.
The chair had been a gift from her mum to Harry when he graduated from the Auror Academy. He had loved it so much he had insisted on picking out a whole living room set to match ‘his’ chair.
Ginny’s eyes flitted around the empty room and to pictures of her young, and happy. Weariness overtook her, a deep sadness that threatened her resolve in the matter of her trying to save Harry.
Perhaps Harry had been right, she had lovely memories of a husband, and children. That should be enough for anyone.
“NO!” she shouted, her voice echoing around the room. “It’s bloody well not enough! I’m a Potter damn it! I make the rules!”
She stood and grabbing the diary of Harry threw it into the fireplace savagely. “If I can’t have the real thing, I bloody well don’t want you!” She began pacing the room, looking more and more like some feral animal all the time. Her hands clutching and releasing in a random pattern as she stalked the house.
“There has to be something.” Her eyes were drawn to his study, and she bolted up the stairs, flinging the door open she started at one end and systematically tore through the room, convinced whatever it was she needed was somewhere in his books or notes.
After several hours she sat amidst a pile of books and papers triumphantly clutching a small notebook, the one he carried with him she memorized the last few pages. And committing them to memory dashed to the comfort of the couch, and a sip of the sleeping draft.
She woke in a four-poster bed that could only be one place. Beside her, Harry lay sleeping. She carefully got up and walked to a table, and wrote Harry a rather lengthy letter, detailing everything, every last bit including the war as she remembered it, the fight at King’s Cross, and his own notes.
As she finished, he stirred. “Morning.” He mumbled and stumbled into the bathroom, only to return fifteen minutes later to find Ginny asleep, and a small stack of papers written in her own hand drafting out the next eleven years of his life.
He sat at the table and looked at his young wife. In a small basinet, lay their daughter Megan. He pondered not only the scene before him, but certain events that he had been observing over this last year. At times Ginny seemed older, wiser, confidence that he knew was there, but was buried so deep in her, and while she seemed to remember all of their conversations, she seemed oddly reticent to discuss certain events, and times.
Then it came to him. She had found the research that Harry and Hermione had found, and he thought buried. He taped the quill Ginny had used against the parchment, and frowning considered telling Hermione and Ron. It did after all concern them.
A soft knock at the door and roused Harry. He opened the door and Hermione stepped in. “Truly sorry Harry, but I needed to talk to you about something, er privately.”
Harry nodded, and walking back to the table gathered up the stack of parchment and folding them placed them into his pocket, he followed Hermione into the hallway and to her room.
“Head girl has its perks.” He teased.
Hermione glared at him. Harry held up a pair of Ron’s boxers, and her face went scarlet. “He, erm changed after a practice…”
“Practicing what exactly?”
Hermione’s mouth worked slowly, but then she steeled herself and tossed a couple pieces of parchment down on the desk. “Read that.”
Harry read less than two lines and withdrew an identical set of parchments from inside his robes. Hermione’s face paled. “Harry, we have to destroy this! It’s against the law. She’ll go to Azkaban for a very, very long time! I mean this is breaking at least thirteen laws that I know of Harry!”
Harry placed his hand on her shoulder. “I know, and that is exactly why we are going to do this…” His wand was pointed to her forehead. “Obliviate.” While she was still dazed, Harry gathered the parchment up and placed them in his pocket. Smiling he sat opposite Hermione. “Feeling ok? Or did Ron keep you up too late last night?” He dropped the boxers on the desk between them.
After a few minutes of teasing, Harry left the Head Girls room and headed to his old dorm. Ron was still asleep, an owl sat on the headboard with a bundle of parchment. He coaxed it over and unburdened it, and slipped out of the room, with all the known copies of Ginny’s confessions in his possession.
He entered the Head Boy’s room and fed each page deliberately into the fire. Then, he meditated, filing the images of the papers contents away for the time being, but preserving the contents for him to review. Occlumancy had finally paid off big time. Smiling he crawled under the covers with his wife, and rested watching her face. Inside a resolve settled in him, and with that resolve he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Ginny Potter awoke in Harry’s chair, a quilt tucked around her, and a heavy storm thundering outside. The fire in the fireplace burned warmly, and for the first time in a long time Ginny didn’t wake feeling nauseous.
She rose and entered the kitchen, Dobby was there. “Breakfast Miss Potter?” He asked.
Ginny nodded, and sank into the chair to sip her morning tea. She ate quietly, and then headed upstairs, and dug in her closet for clothing for the day. The storm showed no signs of letting up, so she figured she’d spend the day puttering about the house frustrating Dobby to no end doing housework.
Just before noon the fireplace flared to life. “Ginny?” Hermione’s voice called out. Relieved to hear her friend she walked over to the fire. “Oh good, there you are. I was about to call for Dobby. Look could you pop over? Mark and Matt were going at it, and Mark won’t stop teasing Matt…”
Ginny nodded mutely. She grabbed a cloak and stepped into the flame shooting off to Hermione and Ron’s house.
Mark Potter sat in the corner of the house of his Aunt and Uncle attempting to stare a hole in the wall when he heard his mother agree to come over.
“Mum, Aunt Hermione is being totally unfair! I swear it was Matt this time.” He announced as Ginny appeared in the fireplace.
Matt Weasley stood over his cousin. “You fat liar! You started it all!”
Ginny sighed. They always did this, ever since first year, and that whole incident with Peeves… Ginny shook her head. First year? Incident with Peeves?
“This is going to sound very odd Hermione, but was Harry here?” She asked shakily.
Hermione looked at her and sighed. “Of course he was just ten minutes ago he and Ron had lunch here and headed back into work, though Merlin only knows what they are going to do in this weather. By the way, Megan went over to the Thomas's after dropping off Harry's Minion.” She gestured to Mark.
Harry wasn’t an Auror, he and Ron had joined the Canons they played professional Quidditch! They hadn’t been at Kings Cross! Without another word she vanished with a pop and appeared in the Apparation booth of the Canons Coliseum. And elderly wizard in the red robes of the Canons smiled warmly at her.
“Miss Potter, what a unique pleasure my dear. Harry and Ron are just inside, you couldn’t have missed them by much more than a ten minutes.” He waved her on, and she bolted into the empty stadium and into the dressing room.
“HEY NOW!” Ron yelled. “You can’t just come in here you know, we could be indecent!”
Ginny laughed, “When are any of you decent?”
Harry stepped from the showers, and Ginny’s heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest. She leapt into his arms and kissed him deeply.
Smiling Harry let her down. “Well, I think I’ll let you have a lie in in my chair more often. We've been released from practice for teh afternoon.” He kissed her again.
“Oi get your hands off my sister!” Ron threw a wet towel at the pair.
Laughing Harry caught it, and threw it back. “Alright, hey Ron, could you guys keep an eye on the kids for a little bit?”
Ron threw the towel back. “Fine, just don’t tell me what happens.”
Harry and Ginny Apparated home, and setting at the table, Ginny spilled her story to Harry, how she had broken the laws, and rules to make sure he came back to her. As the story came to a close she got an odd look on her face. “So what about Ron and Hermione, they don’t know, do they?”
“No, I got Ron’s letter before he woke up and Obliviated Hermione, and then destroyed all the copies of the notes. The only ones who know are you and I.”
The memories came back, hours and hours of occulmancy lessons with Harry to bury the memories of her alterations to the time line.
“Now, Mrs. Potter, have you mucked with time enough for your satisfaction?” Harry asked pouring them both some tea.
“Yes, I believe so Mr. Potter.” She sat her cup down and frowned. “Wait one bloody damn minute!”
Harry looked over at her. “Yes?”
“You set me up!” Her eyes went wide. “Why the hell didn’t I see this until now? You knew what sending presents to me like that would do to any man who wasn’t you! You knew!”
“You told me.” He simply shrugged. “So I did what I had to do. It’s not my fault you did more than you were supposed to.”
“You didn’t leave just the right set of books in you personal library that would allow me to travel back into time?”
“Well of course I did.” Harry looked at her almost crossly. “You had to come back you know.”
“The presents?” She asked.
“Oh, you had said in your letter that I had sent you all those things, that was actually easier than getting those books, I’ll have you know a hefty share of the Black fortune is in those books, and the time it took to research exactly the volumes you’d need, and to ‘accidentally’ leave the notes for you to find…” He sat back and smugly drank his tea.
“So does this mean I get Oblivated too?” She asked warily.
“Oh hell no, that’s why we spent so much time on occulmancy. No, you get to keep all that.” He grabbed her hand. “Now, let’s make use of some free time.”
Author Notes:
I'd like to thank everyone who responded. As many of you have figured out, I complete the stories before I post them, and recently I've gone through a bit of a slump, and just as I was touching up this story, another plot hit me. I've been working on that one almost exclusively. Thus the kind of weak ending to this story, and a burning desire to apologize to all of you. :)
Mirloc