|
Foolish | ||||||
|
Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 713 Summary: Can love survive, no matter what someone does to destroy it? Hitcount: Story Total: 154221; Chapter Total: 7039 Awards: View Trophy Room |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
Author’s notes: A little less angst, a little more funny in this chapter. Don’t worry, there’s loads more angst to look forward to in the future. I pinky promise. Thanks as always to some incredible work from my beta. “You need to go and take a holiday.” Lying prone across the shaggy, brightly colored bathroom mat, Ginny pushed her limp hair out of her eyes and squinted up. At first, she could only make out blinding streams of white and yellow from the ceiling light and the bits of early morning sun peeking in through the window, but as her eyes adjusted, long, blonde hair framing a pale, thin face emerged. Luna’s all-seeing blue eyes stared back at Ginny, unblinking. “You’re a good friend, Luna,” Ginny moaned as her head pounded in perfect time with the swirling of her stomach, “and one of the bravest people I’ll ever know, but sometimes you just go and say things that other people do not understand.” The young woman smiled down at her serenely, kneeling beside her ill friend. “That’s because they’re only listening with their ears,” she explained airily. She reached up and picked up a wet, discarded washcloth from the counter. With utmost care, she began dabbing the sticky, cold sweat from Ginny’s forehead. “I think your child will be very healthy and strong, like a Tri-Eyed Namprod,” she continued. “The female Tri-Eyed Namprods are known to be very ill in early pregnancy before they give birth to their offspring. Though of course, you’re not exactly like a Namprod; they expel vomit through their lower left nostril, after all. But I think perhaps the principle is still the same. Your son will be born very fit and hearty.” Ginny sighed in relief as the cool water soothed her hot skin. The few stories she had managed to bear hearing her mother tell to her sisters-in-law about morning sickness had never made it seem this awful. It was usually almost evening by the time she felt somewhat human again and then the day would end, and the whole bloody cycle of nibbling on crackers in between bouts of vomiting would begin anew. “Daughter,” she corrected Luna softly, her eyes falling shut at her strange friend’s ministrations. “You’ll know for sure when you meet him.” “Her.” Ginny would have argued her case more vigorously if not for two things: Using her mouth for anything other than retching would only lead to more retching and the fact that Luna had taken her in and put a roof over her head when there was nowhere else to turn. When she had returned from America, she had headed straight for Holyhead to consult with the team about her future. Before Ginny embarked on finding a new place to live, she had to see if she would still have a job with which to support herself. Not surprisingly, when she informed the team of her impending motherhood, she didn’t. Surprisingly, they weren’t completely without mercy. Her captain, Gwenog Jones (perhaps sensing there was more going on than Ginny just being pregnant) arranged for her to be placed on injured reserve, which would enable her to collect about a third of her normal salary for up to a year. It was more than she had expected, but unfortunately it wouldn’t be enough to live on until after the baby came when she could play Quidditch again. If the Harpies or any other team would be willing to take her on, of course. Not that she’d ever bet a single Knut on that happening. Her parents had left for their year-long trip a few days after she came home from New York on the morning she found Harry’s note. She had left the hotel with a heavy heart, despite the fact that she would have had free shelter for over a week had she stayed. There was just too much of Harry’s presence in the room for her comfort. With her parents gone, so went her only reasonable source of lodging. The Burrow was being occupied by the young couple her parents were renting to and her brothers (along with their own ever-expanding families) weren’t ideal because to live with them would mean she’d have to explain her predicament. Seeing as she didn’t want any of them locked up in Azkaban for hexing Lionel or any other man they would suspect of being the father, she kept mum on the details of her personal life (as well as discreetly passing on the flowing goblets of Firewhiskey) when they gathered for dinner at the Three Broomsticks after bidding their parents farewell. Saying goodbye to her parents was even more trying than she had imagined. Letting them hug her close and ply her with kisses and well wishes before they Apparated away was close to unbearable. She wanted to pull her mother aside and whisper the news of her baby into the older woman’s ear-confess all of her hopes and her fears for her baby-but she couldn’t. The baby was her responsibility to take care of and she couldn’t do that if she still needed her own parents to take care of her. Her mum would be furious, no doubt, when the owl came sometime in the future to announce Ginny’s news, but hopefully she’d be able to include that she had also secured employment and a place to live as well to ease her mother’s mind. As unlikely as that seemed at the present moment, when her days were spent lying on Luna’s bathroom floor. Luna had truly been a gift from above when they had run into each other at the Leaky Cauldron a few days ago. Ginny had been staying there since her return, telling Neville and Hannah that she had ended things with Lionel but not about the baby or losing her spot on the team. All she said was she had suffered a small bone contusion and the team wanted her to sit for a few weeks to fully recover. Her good friend and the kind Hufflepuff he married had offered her a room for the week free of charge while she looked for a new place. Unfortunately, with no job, there was nothing she could afford. She was sitting by herself in the dining room at the end of the week, trying to find the courage to tell Neville about the baby and lack of job to see if he and Hannah could offer her a room for a fraction of what they usually charged, when Luna unexpectedly glided in. Ginny broke into one of the first true smiles she had had in some time at the sight of her old friend. “Ginny!” the small woman had exclaimed vaguely, walking towards the happily surprised redhead’s table. She got up, eager to embrace Luna but before she could get her arms around her friend, Luna stopped in front of her and looked her up and down. “You’re pregnant,” Luna proclaimed instantly, “with a baby.” Ginny was gob smacked, her arms frozen mid hug. “How…how did you know that I’m…I’m,” she squeaked faintly, glancing around the nearly empty room to make sure no one could hear, “having a baby?! I’m not even ten weeks along and we haven’t seen or heard from each other in-” “Nearly a year, yes I know,” Luna replied, leaning forward to finish the forgotten hug before sitting down. Ginny dazedly followed suit. “We were both busy with our careers. I was working to establish a reserve for Phauz Phasanlies in the North Pole - it’s really a bit chilly up there - and you were throwing red balls into hoops. Time got away from us, as it’s prone to do. Perhaps someone should look into inventing a leash or a cage for it. I imagine that-” “But Luna, how did you know just by looking at me that…?” “There’s a child inside you? Quite simple really. You’re surrounded by Infansite Fairies.” “What?” “Don’t worry, they’re invisible and very tiny. They won’t disturb you; they’ll just merely announce your pregnancy to everyone who can see them. Which is an extremely limited number so if it is a secret, it should be safe. But anyhow, congratulations to you and to your baby’s father. Oh I’m sorry. Please forgive my assumption. Does the baby even have a father?” The matter of fact, though dreamy, way she asked threw Ginny for a moment. “No,” she finally answered firmly, tracing a pattern on the wooden table with her fingernail, “this baby has no father. There’s just me and I’m afraid even that might not be good enough. I don’t even have a job or a place to live at the moment.” Luna nodded before her eyes became even wider and she smiled brightly. “You should stay with me for a bit,” she declared. Ginny stopped her mindless tracing, sure that she hadn’t heard right. There was no way that Luna had just walked into the Leaky Cauldron with an answer to her prayers; not with the luck Ginny was playing with recently. “Are you saying that I could…move in with you? Right now, today?” Luna nodded. “I have a spare room-well after I clean out the swamp samples I took in Brazil two years ago I will-and we have ever so much catching up to do.” “But I don’t have a lot of money to pay for rent or groceries. I won’t just leech off of you like that.” “Leeches have really gotten such a horrid reputation. Healers have been using them for centuries to treat and cure some ailments. Even some Muggle doctors find them to be beneficial. If you were a leech, it would not be a bad thing. But you’re not. You’re my friend and I would very much like to help you. Besides, with the skyrocketing sales of The Quibbler over the past few years, I don’t worry about money that much. If you do, you can pay me back someday with it if you wish, but I’d much rather prefer your friendship and company over your Galleons. Please say that you will.” And with that bit of compassion, Ginny found herself a free home. A temporary free home. She’d find a job, save up for her own place, and find a way to make Luna accept repayment for the bottomless kindness she’d shown Ginny. As soon as she could make it through the day without kneeling before the loo four or five times, she’d get right on it. “I wasn’t being strange before, when I said you needed to take a holiday.” Luna grasped one of Ginny’s hands and, with surprising ease and strength, lifted her up from the floor, propping the redhead across from her in the tiny bathroom. “You really do need to get away. The course of your entire life changed in the matter of a few weeks. You need to let your mind settle so you can focus on the future.” Ginny shook her head and tried to keep a hold of her temper. “My mind doesn’t have time to settle, Luna. I have less than eight months before this baby arrives and I can’t waste any of them, not when there’s so much left to do! This is my responsibility and mine alone. I cannot afford to make any mistakes. My girl needs me to get this right.” She grimaced against the gnawing of hunger in her stomach, trying to ignore it. As soon as she put a bite of food in it, her traitorous stomach would launch a full scale assault against it. Luna eyed her curiously. “Didn’t your Healer give you a potion to help you feel better at your last appointment?” Ginny only wrinkled her nose in reply at the thought of the neon pink potion batty old Healer Wellby prescribed for her. He claimed it would relieve any symptom of pregnancy while giving her pale skin a healthy glow. So far, the only glow was coming from the sweat glistening off her forehead as she struggled to tame her body’s aversion to food. From the list of Healers she had been given, only one was able to take her on as a patient and given that the man had probably been a septuagenarian when Auntie Muriel had been a babe, it was easy to see why he had room in his schedule for her. She was on a waiting list for the other two, but it could be weeks or months before she was able to get in. The only other people she knew to ask for pregnancy help were her brothers’ wives and telling them was tantamount to telling her brothers. It was tempting to see if she could track down Healer Nell Nixon, the young woman who had assisted her the morning she had almost terminated her pregnancy. Ginny didn’t know what she would have done if not for Nell’s empathy and her absolute commitment to doing right by her scared patient. Nell had told her she didn’t practice in the area, but perhaps, like most other rules, there was an exception to be found. “Perhaps,” Luna chimed in, “the reason you still feel so ill is because your recent troubles are putting a great strain on you, physically and mentally. Pardon my bluntness, but you are, as they say, wound tighter than a Fleenick during mating season. Maybe if you were to go to a place where you didn’t constantly think of your troubles, you’d feel better. And the healthier you feel, the better that is for the baby. Didn’t you just say that your son needs you to do everything right for him?” For the last time, it’s a girl and that’s dirty pool, Lovegood. Using the baby to argue your case, Ginny thought, her mind rolling over Luna’s words and the surprising amount of sense they made. She eyed Luna through hooded lids. “Let’s say for a moment that I agree with you. Where in Merlin’s name could I even go for a vacation? I have no money to spend and I don’t want to be in a strange, foreign place in case something with the baby goes…“ Ginny involuntarily shook, not able to say the words. “Just in case I need a Healer, for some reason. Since this is your brilliant idea, do you know of any places that fit that bill?” Without any hesitation, Luna said, “Of course.” She got up without another word and skipped happily away as a baffled Ginny stared after her swinging blonde curtain of hair. “Auntie Luna is what your Gran would call an odd duck,” Ginny said quietly after a minute, rubbing her stomach and biting back a yawn, “but she means well and we’ll always have to be grateful to her for giving us a place to stay. Although if she ever tries to give you anything for a pet, let Mummy have a look at it first, okay? Just to make sure it doesn’t eat fingers or pass poisonous gas or something like that. Same rules apply with Hagrid when you’re off at Hogwarts someday when you’re…” Against her will, her heavy eye lids slid closed and her head lolled back against the lip of the tub. The fog of sleep seemed as if it had just washed over her when Luna’s voice burst uninvited into her consciousness. “Ginny, wake up! You need to wake up It’s almost time to leave! Hurry!” The frantic nature of Luna’s tone (a tone she didn’t even knew Luna possessed) startled Ginny awake. Her body, stiff and aching from lying awkwardly against the tub for who knows how long, fought to right itself as Luna prodded her up and out of the bathroom. Her feet were almost numb from sleeping in her trainers and Luna had to support Ginny’s weight. “What’s going on?” She winced against the bitter aftertaste her apparently long nap had left in her mouth. “Why did you let me sleep so long? And what are going on about with leaving?” Luna slid Ginny’s body onto a bright turquoise sofa and went over to the orange polka-dotted armchair, picking up Ginny’s duffel bag before racing back and forth in a blur of blonde hair through the small apartment, the clanking of her bottle cap necklace drowned out by the pounding of her bare feet. “I was making your travel arrangements while you slept,” she called out, her voice echoing throughout the space. “It was quite complicated. You only would have asked pointless questions and made silly arguments if you were awake so I just left you to sleep. It was much easier for me that way but it still took a fair bit of time. That’s why I have to get you packed before the Portkey activates; if you miss it, you’ll only start thinking with your brain again and you won’t go.” “I won’t go where?” Luna paused in the archway between the bedroom and the hallway. “To Hastom.” All vestiges of sleep vanished in that instant. Ginny’s eyes bugged to the point where they rivaled Luna’s in size. Is she INSANE?!?! “Are you INSANE?!?!” Ginny shrieked. “You want me to go there?! To Hastom?” She eyed her old school chum with suspicion. “Do you even know what people say about that place?” Luna shook her head sadly, turning back to go into the bedroom. “People who say things like that about Hastom have never been to Hastom. They don’t know what it’s really like there or the beauty of the people who live there. They create a delightfully tacky story in their heads from ancient rumors and parrot them over and over to others until, eventually, whatever they say about the village of Hastom is accepted as fact. We who truly do frequent the village laugh about it over a Butterbeer and crystallized ginger at the local pub.” Ginny sat stock still, trying to digest what her friend was saying about the ancient wizarding village that was a source of endless fascination for the entire magical community, so secretive that the entire village was kept under the strictest concealment charms somewhere in the midst of the English countryside. No wizard or witch, dead or alive, had ever been able to forcibly penetrate it. Hastom was a separate world, kept away from prying eyes. She had heard so many frightful stories of Hastom her whole life; stories so unbelievable that most folks in their right minds would scoff good-naturedly at their absurdness. But when the stories were said to be about Hastom, most witches and wizards hung on every word with bated breath. There were stories of a people who did everything from conjure monsoons out of nothing but boredom to fathers burying newborn baby girls alive beneath the earth in the hope that they’d grow out of the ground into a strapping son. Hastom residents could be two feet tall and swarthy with pickled green skin and white hair that hung to their toes or they could be purple and magenta striped giants with claws for hands and fluorescent Mohawks. It all depended on who you asked. She couldn’t recall meeting anyone who didn’t have an even more terrifying story than the one she heard previously to tell about Hastom and its mysterious inhabitants. Of course, none of them had ever been to Hastom. Ginny had never known that she had met anyone who had set foot in Hastom before. Until now. “You go to Hastom? Often? How do you even get there? I thought-well I heard-that you can’t enter the village without-” “Proper magical clearance from the Council of Hastom,” Luna finished as she reentered the living room with a large pile of Ginny’s clothes, neatly shoving them into the magically enhanced bag. “Yes, that’s true. The townspeople have always been very concerned about who they let reside in their homeland. Contrary to what you may have misguidedly believed, the citizens of Hastom are very peaceful and strive their utmost to maintain that peace.” Ginny shook her head, impatient for answers. “But how do go there? You’re not a citizen of that place, you live here in London. And when you’re not here, you’re off traveling to the ends of the Earth. How are you a citizen?” “I’m not nor have I ever been. But my mother was. She and her family lived there for generations until my grandfather passed away suddenly and my grandmother, in deep mourning, decided to leave Hastom with my mother. Because my mother had been born there, her citizenship was lifelong. She never wanted to live there again permanently-she said it reminded her too much of my grandfather. But she liked to visit on occasion. We would take holidays there often when I was a child. Upon her death, I was given the status of ‘visitor’ because I was born to a citizen but not one myself. I’m allowed to visit Hastom whenever I please or, with special approval from the Council, I can allow someone that I personally vouch for to visit in my place. That’s where I was while you were asleep against the bathtub, getting approval for you. It took some convincing on my part but eventually, they agreed. Don’t take it as a slight. The only thing they’re more selective about than visitors is who they allow to become citizens. “They award the privilege of citizenship into Hastom to a very select and worthy few visitors on only two occasions: If a citizen chooses to relinquish it for some reason or, tragically, if a citizen dies and has no other living relatives left born in Hastom to maintain citizenship in their family line. And to become a citizen is serious thing, not to be taken lightly. One must seek the unanimous approval of the Council and must then remain in Hastom for six straight months to be observed by the Council and the other citizens of Hastom. Except in the case of a death in one’s immediate family or a medical emergency the village Healer cannot manage.” “Is it really worth all that trouble? Just to live there?” “For some, yes. The cost is high, no doubt, but for what they get in return, they consider it priceless.” “And what’s that?” “A place to belong when they had none before.” Luna smiled and went off into the bathroom, leaving her friend alone on the couch. Ginny’s head swam against the vast current of information she’d been given. This is madness! She honestly expects me to just go off to this place-this place that some parents use to scare their children into behaving by threatening to send them there-on a whim and her word? I’ll go away for time and come back with no money and no solutions. Why should I even consider this? Because she truly had nothing left to lose. Not a job or a home, that’s for certain. She was too nervous to turn to her family for fear that she wouldn’t be able to lie about the baby’s paternity and if she couldn’t lie than there was a good chance many peoples’ lives would be in shambles because of it. And Luna did have a point: Sitting around and worrying endlessly over how she was going to support herself wasn’t healthy for her or the baby. Maybe getting away and coming back with a clear head and a fresh perspective was exactly what she needed. But to Hastom? A great surge of Gryffindor courage pulsed out from her rapidly beating heart, shooting sparks of adrenaline through her. She felt like a schoolgirl again, right before her playing in her very first real Quidditch match. Anything and everything was possible. She could go to a place where seldom few had been allowed and experience sights and sounds most would fork over their entire Gringotts vault for. She could do it and maybe even end up being better for it. Even if the mere thought of Hastom and its legends sent chills down her spine. “If Luna says it’s safe there, I believe her,” Ginny whispered to herself and her unborn child. “She doesn’t know how to lie to the people she loves.” Luna shot out from the bathroom and threw a few more things in Ginny’s bag before zipping it shut and holding it out in front of her. “Are you ready?” she asked. No but when have you ever let that stop you before? “Yes,” Ginny said firmly, standing on wobbling knees and taking her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “When you arrive,” Luna explained, “you’ll be at the Green Swallow Inn. The innkeeper, Mrs. Nettles, will help you get settled. She can tell you everything you need to know about the village and can help you find anything. The inn isn’t connected to the Floo network and only citizens are allowed to have owls in Hastom, but if you need to get in touch with home, Mrs. Nettles can help you. Your room at the inn has been paid for until the end of July but feel free to come back sooner than that if you wish.” “A whole month? Luna, I can’t accept-” “Your friendship, not Galleons, is what I want most. Remember?” Luna glanced over at intricate wall clock that showed the position of the sun and moon in the sky rather than numbers or hands. “The Portkey will activate in about two minutes. Do you need anything else before you leave?” “Tell my brothers where I…wait, don’t tell them where I am. They’ll go berserk. Just tell them I lost my mind, decided to go lounge around in Africa, and that I’ll be back soon or some nonsense like that. I’ll try to get a letter to them if I can. Give them and anyone else you can think of my love. Get in touch with me if anything happens here.” The excitement thrummed through her veins and with a tiny shriek, Ginny reached out to give Luna a tight squeeze. Pulling back, she eyed her carefully once more. “You’re absolutely sure this is alright? You letting someone go to Hastom in your place? This won’t cause any trouble for you?” “Not at all,” Luna reassured her, squeezing her hands. “I’ve let another old friend go there before and it turned out to be a good thing for his life. He’s made it his home.” “Really?” Ginny asked, mentally trying to run through a list of men that Luna was friends with. “Who else have you let go to Hastom?” “It‘s almost time,” Luna said quickly. Ginny felt her hands tense slightly. Letting go of her, Luna reached to the coffee table and grabbed a dirty, hole-ridden sock which she thrust into Ginny’s hand before backing away a few steps. “Have a safe journey and a lovely trip. Keep your eyes, ears, mind, and heart open the whole time.” The sock began to glow. Ginny clutched it tighter, a mass of thrill and nerves. “I will.” “And if you should feel the desire to burn an effigy of me sometime after you get there, I completely understand and take no offense to it.” “What? Why would I ever-” The light from the sock became blinding, blurring Luna out of sight and Ginny felt her body sharply tugged forward by an invisible hook, surrounded by a swirling mix of wind and colors. Her voice was just getting ready to let loose a scream when her feet hit solid wood and she jerked to a sudden stop. A pair of small, sturdy hands with about a dozen rings between them caught her waist before she toppled to the ground. Trying to blink the dizziness out of her system, she finally looked down and met a pair of vividly purple eyes. Well, only one vividly purple eye-the other was hidden by a black eye patch. “Welcome to Hastom,” the dwarf woman said in a high-pitched voice. “I am Sylvania Nettles but you may call me Mrs. Nettles. I run and own the Green Swallow. You are Ginevra, I take it?” “Yes. Ginny, actually,” she replied breathlessly, one hand clutching her stomach as it protested the journey it had just taken as her other blindly gripped the small mahogany dresser she had landed next to. Mrs. Nettles let her go and took her bag from her slack fingers without asking. She hoisted the bag onto the single-width bed, fluffing the inviting pillows and smoothing the patchwork quilt. “Breakfast and dinner are served promptly at seven each morning and evening. If you dare sit down at five minutes past the hour, you will have to find another place to take your meal,” the woman explained plainly. Ginny couldn’t place her strange accent. “Rooms are cleaned between twelve and two o’clock in the afternoon every day. All guests should be back at the inn by eleven at night unless they’ve made sleeping arrangements elsewhere. If you wish, I will ensure any outgoing post you have is mailed within the hour; incoming post is delivered to your room.” She went to the door and motioned Ginny to follow as she went into the narrow hallway and down a flight of stairs to a large, sunny sitting room. “The kitchen is over there,” she indicated an open doorway to the right, “the dining room next door. Menus are posted daily. If you have a dietary concern, please inform me. The sitting room is open to all guests until midnight; please show them proper courtesy in regards to using the wireless radio or any other entertainment. Do you have any questions?” “Yes.” Ginny pulled a shaking hand to her nose, wincing against the smell emanating from the kitchen and rubbing her stomach. “Is the town Healer located nearby?” At the innkeeper’s raised eyebrow, she blushed slightly. “I…I have a bit of a stomach bug and the Portkey made it a little worse. Just wanted to see if he had something to help it.” Mrs. Nettle’s purple eye trailed her up and down. She shook her head with a rueful smile. “Only thing that will help it is about nine more months.” Ginny blanched. “How did you…can everyone just tell by looking at me…do you see the Infansite Fairies too?” “No, but I’ve had six pregnancies and four children to show for them,” Mrs. Nettles said, her smile smaller but a bit kinder. “I know your look well. This is your first child?” Ginny nodded. Mrs. Nettles pulled out her wand and waved it towards the menu board, the tightly-scripted handwriting morphing instantly. “I make a lovely vegetable soup that calms the most ailing stomachs. There’ll be a steaming bowl and a pile of French baguettes waiting for you tonight. In the meantime, the Healer is just three blocks down to your left from here. You’ll see the sign. She’s usually not too busy this time of day.” “Thank you,” Ginny managed to say as Mrs. Nettles guided her gently out the heavy oak door onto the sun filled cobblestone streets lined with people and stands. “You welcome, dear.” With that, the doors closed behind her and Ginny was left alone in Hastom. Old fears born of years of horrifying tales of the village crawled up unheeded through her belly at the realization. Okay, she thought, letting her long hair drape to cover her face and forcing her feet to move forward, it’s going to be fine, Ginny. Luna said you would be safe and fine here. She would never lie to you. Of course, Luna’s definition of safe and fine might be a bit different than others. She was raised by a man who left an Erumpent Horn just sitting in his house. And who knows what kind of things they saw and did looking for Crumple Horned Snorkacks…Sweet Merlin, why did I let her send me here?! I wasn’t thinking rationally! I have to see if I can- Something shiny and colorful was shoved into Ginny’s face. “Ahh!” she screamed, jumping back slightly. She almost knocked into a cast-iron light pole before she stopped, holding a hand over her racing heart. “Gandalf’s goiter, you scared me.” She looked around wildly for the source of her fright until her eyes saw a feeble yet oddly regal old man with silver hair wearing the deepest burgundy robes hutched on top of a footstool, holding a shaking flower up towards her. A large wooden basket next to him was filled to the brim with more flowers. She instantly felt guilty. “I’m sorry, sir. You just startled me, that’s all.” The old man kept his knotted hand raised up to Ginny, showing her the flower again. He didn’t speak but grunted softly with a smile. “It’s a lovely flower,” Ginny told him, inhaling and exhaling slowly. The man didn’t lower the flower until Ginny nodded in understanding. “Yes, it’s very beautiful but I’m afraid I don’t have any money to pay you for it.” The man’s eyes brightened and his smile lit up his weathered face, proudly displaying his two remaining teeth. He took Ginny’s hand in his and placed the flower in it, closing her fingers around the tall stem. She studied it closer and almost gasped in shock: It was an Arcus Violet, just like the one in her picture frame back in Luna’s spare room. Only this one was real, alive, and even more beautiful than Ginny had ever imagined, the petals a sinfully delicious red. She inhaled and smelled something so pure and fragrant, she could not name it because there was no name for something that perfect. She blinked down at the man who seemed older than time. “I…I can’t accept this, sir,” she told him in awe. “It’s far too much.” She tried to politely hand him back the flower but her gripped her wrist firmly and shook his head. Finally, she held the flower to her breast and smiled to her ears. She leaned down and hugged him, whispering in his ear, “You’re very kind.” He pushed her gently back after a moment, patting her cheek and nodding with his head down the path she had been before he stopped her. Ginny nodded and kissed the flower petals to show her gratitude once more before she went on her way. Her steps were lighter and her mind was much more at ease than it had been when she exited the Green Swallow. With great care so as not to damage it, she placed the Arcus Violet in her bag for safekeeping. Pulling her hair back behind her ears, she walked slowly through the streets, taking in the sights around her. From her limited viewpoint, Hastom didn’t appear any different from some place like Hogsmeade or even Diagon Alley. Businesses and shops lined the area of the village packed against each other but never crowding and in an array of colors and shapes. Vendors sat or stood by their carts, eager to show off exotic pelts or tonics or handmade delicacies to the villagers milling about on the bright Saturday. There was an apothecary with ropes of herbs hanging outside it; a market with fruits and vegetables that Ginny had never even seen in the window; a toy shop where a pair of marionette puppets hung in midair on invisible string, delighting a group of small children; and-to her great delight-a Quidditch supply shop, though not nearly as big as the one in Diagon Alley. It’s…charming. Perfectly charming and not in any way scary. Not yet, at least, she thought as her eyes tried to take in everything. So enamored was she with all she laid eyes on that she nearly missed the wooden sign with a red cross hanging over a honey-colored door. The sign door read: Hastom Health Services Underneath that, it said: Healer Nell Nixon Her eyes nearly shot out of their sockets. “There’s no way,” Ginny murmured to herself, pulling the door open as a bell jangled overhead. “There’s no way it’s the same Healer you saw before. Luck doesn‘t turn around this fast.” She entered the tiny waiting area and stood in the center of it, looking for some sign of a photograph of the Healer she was about to meet. “Mrs. Killgraw, I’m sorry but I’m closing the office for the day in a few minutes” a laughing voice called from behind a curtained doorway as it was pulled apart, “Now how many times must I tell you? The hippogriff marrow needs a few hours to take an effect before your eyebrows shrink down to their normal size. You really need to keep your boy out of the herb-,” The light brown haired woman who emerged gasped quietly in recognition. “Ginny? Is that you?” “Healer Nixon,” Ginny sighed, her shoulders slumping in relief. Hastom was really growing on her. “It’s Nell, remember?” She came closer and took Ginny’s hands, studying her closely with a trained eye. “You look…rather pale and very tired to be honest. What on Earth are you doing here?” “A friend, a good friend, sent me here. She thought I needed to get away for a little bit of a holiday; thought it might give the baby and me a little more health. Brilliant woman, she is.” “If you say so.” Nell tugged her through the curtain to a small, clean exam room. She gave the table a pat. “Hop up and let’s see how you’re both doing. How long are you going to be in Hastom?” “Until the end of month, I think. Hastom is where you work most of the time?” “This where I live all of the time,” Nell replied, picking up a chart and quill to make notes with. “You’re a citizen?” “Yes, born and raised here. My father was the village Healer before me and I learned most of what I know from him. His mother was a Healer and her grandmother before that and so on. Healing is the family business so to speak. I did some studying at St. Mungo’s and then abroad in America before I came home and set up shop. It’s a small practice, though, and not everyone here is rolling in Galleons, that’s why I work at Healer Smythe’s office a few days a month so I can afford to provide free care to some patients.” “That’s decent of you.” Ginny smiled from her position on the table. “I knew that about you the first time we met, that you were decent. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for helping me to see I didn’t have to…” She rubbed her stomach affectionately. “I might even end up naming her after you.” Nell rolled her eyes and chuckled, setting the chart on a table beside her and reaching for her wand. “It’s appreciated, but not necessary. I’d hate to saddle another poor girl with this old-fashioned name.” She furrowed her brow. “Did your Healer in London tell you it was a girl? It’s not possible to detect gender until the second trimester.” “No, he didn’t. I just…this is my daughter. I’m sure of it.” The Healer nodded politely and began waving her wand over Ginny’s form, examining and making careful note of the different muted colors that popped up over points on her body, murmuring quietly aloud. “Your blood pressure is little bit high but nothing to be alarmed at yet…weight is good….any insomnia or headaches? No? Good…the nausea seems a bit intense…what on Earth were you prescribed for this? Two-thirds dogwood brewed with three-fourths lavender?” Nell bristled in irritation. “Healer Wellby. That man thinks no new potions have been discovered since the Middle Ages. I’ll set you up with something much better.” She put down her wand and wrote furiously on the chart. “I don’t want to upset you but can I ask about the…biological father?” Ginny shut her eyes, remembering Nell was one of a few people who knew for sure Lionel’s identity. She was told before Ginny signed the contract terminating Lionel’s rights so Ginny could discuss Lionel with her with no consequences but Nell couldn’t reveal Lionel’s identity to anyone else. “He’s…I have to explain something to you.” Before she knew it, the whole sordid tale was spilling out of Ginny’s lips. Everything-from Ginny’s declaration to Lionel that she was keeping the baby; to the fling she caught him pressed up against in New York; to his ultimatum regarding keeping identity as the baby’s father a secret; to losing her home, her job, and most of her money-burst out in a retelling that made Ginny want to weep with shame all over again. Nell sat there with her the whole time, holding her hand when tears spilled forth and indignantly calling Lionel a ten-syllable curse word Ginny had never heard of. By the end of it all, something happened in addition to the burden Ginny felt at keeping such secrets from people she loved lifting ever so slightly. At the end of it all, a friendship had formed. “Listen,” Nell began, toying with the end of her long side braid, “I’m not saying what you did was the wrong thing exactly but I have to ask: Would letting those memories become public in exchange for Lionel providing some kind of financial support be so awful? I mean, I know your brothers might be angry at what it does to their lives but you’re their sister. I’m sure they’d be willing to go through that for you.” “Maybe,” Ginny sighed deeply. “But I could never ask that of them. They’re all in such good places right now; I couldn’t bear it if anything damaged that. Especially something like me being naïve enough to trust Lionel Dresden. And it’s not just my brothers that would be harmed.” She swallowed as her mind turned to Harry, averting her eyes from Nell’s blue ones. She hadn’t had the strength to discuss Harry or what had happened between them in New York with her new friend. “Lionel has other memories, memories about a man I used to be…involved with. He and I…we don’t see each other any more but I still…he still means a great deal to me and I won’t have him slandered in public. I’ll find a way through this but it won’t be at his expense.” Nell nodded thoughtfully. “The first time we met, I was right too. I knew what a caring, devoted mother you’d make.” She smiled down at Ginny, reaching for her wand again. “How about we end this appointment on a happy note? Lift up your shirt a bit.” She stood over Ginny and waved her wand in a delicate figure-eight pattern over her stomach. A strong, pulsing beat slowly filled the small room in a sound Ginny knew she‘d never be able to forget. The world shifted ever so slightly. Nothing Ginny had ever contemplated about motherhood prepared her for this moment as she felt her heart expand exponentially with love. “Is that…her heartbeat?” she breathed, her own heartbeat thrumming in response. “Yes. Very, very strong and healthy.” Nell’s grin widened. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Ginny sniffed back tears and laughed heartily at the same time. The wondrous pulsing evidence that her child grew within her was the perfect remedy for any suffering thoughts of Lionel Dresden put her through and any melancholy that thoughts of Harry Potter brought to the surface. She had once foolishly thought she couldn’t find completion of herself in motherhood. Growing up, watching her own mother tend to the needs of everyone around her, Ginny never thought she could be happy changing nappies and running after little bodies. The thought of children wasn’t something that had ever stirred anything maternal in her, nothing like the love she felt now. Being with Harry as they spoke of a future together, a family of their very own, hadn’t unearthed a buried desire to feel little limbs kick inside her or an urge to cuddle a tiny warm body close to her breast like hearing her baby’s heartbeat did. Even with watching that potion turn blue a few weeks ago or experiencing the joys of morning sickness, it hadn’t set in until now how much she had loved and wanted this baby. There was no crime she wouldn’t commit to protect this child, no spell she wouldn’t cast. With a start, she understood like never before the ease with which Lily Potter gave her life to save her child. Voldermort had never given Lily a choice; there was no choice between a mother’s life and her child’s. I love you, she silently told thumps. Slowly, with care, Nell lifted her wand from Ginny’s stomach and the miraculous sound faded away. Ginny wanted to demand Nell start it again, she wanted that little heartbeat to be the soundtrack of every day she had. “I’ll bring the recording equipment in next time,” Nell promised, pocketing her wand. “It’s a little like a pensieve memory except you don’t see it, you hear it. We can save it so you can have a copy with you whenever you want to hear it.” “I’d like that,” Ginny nodded, wiping her eyes and sitting up. Nell helped her down from the table. “You look like you could use a great big lunch. I know the best place in town.” “Oh thank you but I’m flat broke.” A thought occurred to her. “Actually, I’m sorry; I should have asked what you charged before I-” Nell put a finger to her lip, shushing her. “No talk of money, not for this appointment and not for lunch. We’ll figure out a medical payment plan that works for you later and as for lunch, the person who owns the best place in town is my husband so we weren’t going to be paying anyway.” She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a few vials. She handed them to Ginny. “These potions help with the nausea, take one before you go to bed at night and it should make you feel better. You still taking the prenatal potion I prescribed on our first visit?” Ginny nodded and placed the vials in her handbag. “Excellent. With that, we go forth to the Millennium Falcon.” Ginny followed Nell out as they left her office, Nell casting a Locking spell on the door as they headed down the street. “The what?” “It’s the pub my husband owns here. See, he’s American. I met him when I studied there and liked him so much, I just brought him home with me. But he was also raised among Muggles. Didn’t even know he was magical until he was almost ten years old. So he has a great love of Muggle pop culture because he grew up with it. Apparently, there’s this movie called War of Stars or some rubbish that is very popular and there’s something in it that’s called a millennium falcon. He loved the name so much that when he came here and wanted to open a pub, he thought it would be a great name. Thought it sounded very British pub-like or so he says. I want to throttle the man sometimes, but I do love him. You’ll love him, too. He’s a great bloke. Gets on well with everyone he meets. If I know Bart, he’s at the counter of the pub right now trading Muggle upbringing stories with his best mate.” “Is Bart a citizen, like you?” “Of course. He had to get his approval and all from the Council before we could settle here permanently together but he was willing to do it for me, this being my home and all. Do you know how citizenship in Hastom works?” “Yes, Luna explained most of it to me before she handed me a Portkey here.” “Luna?” Nell squinted her eyes at Ginny as they continued walking. “Luna Lovegood? She’s the friend that let you visit in her place?” “Uh-huh. Oh, there it is,” Ginny said, pointing to the large wooden sign with a hand craved falcon. She didn’t notice the look of horrified comprehension that swept over Nell’s face or that Nell had paused quite a few steps behind her. Her hungry stomach guiding her, Ginny pulled open the pub door. She had already set one foot in when she heard Nell shout behind her, “Ginny! Wait! Don’t go in yet!” However Ginny’s head was turned towards the bar of the pub and as soon as she saw Harry’s green eyes glance towards the open door, she turned and slammed the door shut with a bang that reverberated down the noisy street. |
| Reviews 713 |
Previous Next
|
