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SIYE Time:5:27 on 29th November 2021


Bound
By YelloWitchGrl

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Romance, Tragedy
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mental Abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use, Rape, Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 351
Summary: The battle is over, there is life to be lived, peace to be enjoyed and trouble following close at their heels.

Ginny hasn't seen Harry since the dust settled from the battles with Voldemort, but when an unexpected piece of news draws them together will they be driven apart or become bound?

Follows Canon to the best of my knowledge.

The warnings are just to be safe. I don't know that they're all needed, but I'm putting them up just to cover my bases. If you have any questions or concerns, please message me.
Hitcount: Story Total: 116199; Chapter Total: 6952
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
I'm so excited that I won 2 silver trinket awards!! It's so cool and thank you for everyone who voted for me. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I think you'll like this chapter, well I hope you do. Let me know.

Thanks James for all of your help!




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Wednesday June 10th, 1998

It wasn’t even light out when Harry felt the bed shift suddenly and heard running feet. Grabbing his glasses, he thrust them on and made it to the bathroom door in time to see Ginny lose the entire contents of her stomach into the toilet. He flipped on the light and she didn’t even seem to notice. Her hair fell around her and her whole body shook. “Ginny,” he whispered as he knelt down next to her, pulling her hair back for her. Her arms were resting on the seat, her head propped on one arm waiting for the next spasm to hit. When it did she heaved again until nothing came out.

“Water,” she choked. Sweat drenched her face and her nose was running freely.

Harry got up for the glass on the counter and filled it. He handed it to her and she swished some in her mouth before spitting it into the toilet. He wet a cloth and bent down to wipe her face. She grabbed some toilet paper, blew her nose, and after chucking in the toilet, closed the lid and flushed.

He sat down next to her on the cold tile floor and she fell back against him, shaking uncontrollably. Harry held her, wishing desperately that he could take this from her. He kissed her damp brow and stroked a hand slowly up and down her back, feeling her spine under the night shirt. “Do you want to go lay down again?”

She didn’t seem able to answer, only nod.

Carefully, and somewhat awkwardly, he stood with her in his arms. She’d put a few pounds back on in the last few days, but she was still light and easy to move. He tucked her in on her side of the bed and went to retrieve a bucket. “If you need it, you can throw up in here,” he said, placing it on her nightstand, pushing the sweaty hair away from her face. Harry looked at her, waffling on whether or not to send a message to the midwife.

“Harry…” Ginny’s voice was cracked and pitiful as she held out a shaking hand for him.

He swallowed hard, willing back the rising flood of helplessness as he moved onto the bed behind her, molding his body around hers and pulling her in close. He lay awake, watching over her as she fell into a fitful sleep again. A lump had lodged itself in his stomach as he closed his eyes, trying to fight off the rising panic. If she kept getting sick… but he couldn’t think like that. It was just once so far, and it was normal for pregnant women to throw up. Hadn’t Martha said that it was okay as long as it didn’t happen all the time?

But this wasn’t a normal pregnancy. Harry looked over towards the clock and saw it was almost 6am. Molly was supposed to be here in half an hour and Martha was scheduled for around 10am. He was supposed to be going in to work shortly, but there was no way he was going in until after Martha had been there to check on Ginny and the baby.

He stayed in bed and waited for Molly to come. When she finally poked her head in, her eyes filled with concern. “What happened?” His mother-in-law whispered.

“She got sick,” Harry told her softly. “It was pretty bad, but only the once.”

Molly came to put a hand on Ginny’s brow. “Oh my baby,” she said gently, almost crooning. “Are you going in to work?” She asked, looking up at Harry.

“Not right now, maybe later,” he explained. “I’m going to send in a message in a bit.” He didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to let her go.

“I’ll stay, you go ahead,” Molly told him, pulling a chair over to sit next to her daughter.

Harry reluctantly got out of bed, feeling cold after having been entwined with Ginny. Shivering slightly, he made his way down to the room he was using as his office. He sat in the chair at his desk and put his head in his hands, willing his heart to slow and for the dread to abate. He sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly and wrote out a message for Robards. He went over to the cage on the filing cabinet. Harry hadn’t wanted another owl, but Ron and Hermione had given them one as a wedding present. His name was Burt; Ginny had named him the second she saw him and as with most things she did, it just stuck. Burt raised his tawny head and stuck out his leg.

Harry tied on the scroll. “It goes only to Robards. No one else, alright?”

Burt ducked his head twice and Harry opened the window for him. He watched the bird fly off as the first rays of the rising sun began to kiss the tree tops.

Harry made his way back upstairs to find Molly giving Ginny her next dose of potion. “Come on, luv, just a bit more.”

“Mum, I feel awful,” Ginny whispered pathetically.

“I know,” Molly’s voice cracked. “I know, darling, but it’s just what we mums go through.”

“What if it hurts the baby?” Ginny asked and Harry’s chest clenched when he saw tears start to rain down her pale cheeks.

“No,” Harry said firmly, coming back in and climbing back in bed with her. “No, Martha said it would be okay if you were sick sometimes. This isn’t a big deal.”

Molly stroked her cheek comfortingly. “He’s right. You’re scared because you feel so bad, but Ginny this is a normal part of pregnancy. It’s a good thing! It means the hormones are all there, making you feel lousy.”

Ginny let out a soft chuckle. “Oh great.” She sighed and turned into Harry, pillowing her head on his shoulder and fisting her hand into his soft, worn shirt. “I’m so tired.”

“Go to sleep,” Harry told her. “I’m not leaving you.”

~*~

“How is she?” Hermione asked as Harry made his way back downstairs later that evening. He sat down with Ron and Hermione at his kitchen table and dropped his head onto his arms. “Oh Harry.” Hermione said gently as she reached over to rub a hand across his shoulder.

Harry sighed and sat back up. After Martha’s assurances that Ginny was okay, that it was normal he had finally made it into work, but his mind had definitely been elsewhere and Robards had sent him back home after only a few hours. Ginny had slept most of the day.

“Did she get sick again?” Ron asked him.

“No,” Harry said. “No, but she’s lost most of her strength. It’s like we’re going backwards.”

Ron’s eyes were intense as he studied him. “What did the midwife say?”

“That her getting sick isn’t that big of a problem; it’s the fact that she lost her strength that is a huge concern.” Harry took the tea cup from Kreacher that the old elf handed him. “Thanks, Kreacher.”

“Ginny still doesn’t know anything?” Hermione asked him hesitantly.

Feeling older than he had in a long time, Harry shook his head. “I’m deliberately not telling her and I feel horrible about it.”

“You can’t tell her,” Ron reminded him. “It wouldn’t do her any good to know what’s happened.”

“I know,” Harry said wearily.

“That doesn’t help, though, does it?” Ron asked him shrewdly as he drank his own tea.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to lie to her anymore. I don’t want to keep secrets from her. I can’t share anything with her that’s stressful or hard.”

“Dinner will be ready shortly, Master,” Kreacher called from the kitchen.

Harry nodded in acknowledgment.

Hermione pulled her hair back, clipping it with a large clip. Curls instantly broke free and framed her face. “You’re carrying a huge burden.”

“It isn’t that,” he said, holding his cup between his hands, staring hard into the amber liquid.

“You don’t know whether to be happy or grieve,” Hermione said breathlessly, her eyes welling up.

That was it. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I don’t know if we’re going to have a baby at the end of this and I have to keep up a solid pretense for her that we will or-”

“Or the fear will make sure that she miscarries,” Ron finished. “Instead of a small chance, the baby will have no chance.”

“That’s about it,” Harry said. He looked up at them, unable to hide the raw emotion. “I feel like I’m setting her up to fall hard. She really thinks the baby will be okay-”

“The baby might be okay!” Hermione said sternly. “You don’t know for sure that she won’t make it through.”

“But at least Harry knows the odds,” Ron replied. “He knows that things might go badly and he’s not got his hopes up too high.”

Hermione frowned at him. “Yes, but that won’t change things if something goes wrong.”

“How do you mean?” Harry asked.

“I… oh… I started researching grief and miscarriages,” Hermione said as her bottom lip trembled. Ron squeezed her hand in comfort. “I just want to be prepared, just in case. You love your baby.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Harry said. “It’s really weird to love someone who I’ve never really seen, but I do. I…” he swallowed hard. “I’d do anything to keep the baby safe.”

“You’re going to grieve the loss of your child,” she said simply. “It doesn’t matter how far along the baby is, or anything like that. You want this baby and if the baby doesn’t make it, you’re going to be devastated.”

Harry sighed and put his head back down on the table. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You’re not doing this alone,” Ron reminded him. “We’re all here, backing you up. There doesn’t need to be any kind of mask for us.”

“I know,” Harry said, not looking up. “I just… I held my sick, miserable wife this morning while she cried, so scared that she was failing the baby. How is she going to get through this if she does miscarry?” He finally looked up. “How do I help her through that?”

“The question is how are you going to get yourself through it?” Hermione asked, taking his hand. “You can’t save her if you’re drowning too.”

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how he was going to get through. “I guess like everything else, like everyone else’s death over the last several years.”

“None of them was your kid, though,” Ron reminded him, clearing his throat of emotion. “If Ginny wasn’t pregnant and needing her so much, my mum would be a mess. My dad would too. Fred’s death has left a massive hole in our lives.”

Harry closed his eyes. “That’s not helping me.”

“Okay, no,” Ron agreed. “I didn’t mean to make it worse for you. Listen, we get through this as a family. We do what we have to… stick together and keep going even if that means dragging someone along.”

Hermione was studying him, completely shocked. “Where did all that come from?”

Ron shrugged dismissively. “It’s just what’s happened. We’ve banded together. Andromeda hasn’t got anyone anymore except Teddy, who is Harry’s godson, so they’re ours now. You watch. Mum will have her over at every Christmas and family celebration. We’re all taking turns babysitting George when we’re not babysitting Ginny.”

“I…” Hermione’s voice petered out, and she just shook her head, looking impressed.

“It’s a little weird that you have a wife,” Ron said suddenly, smiling a little. “I mean, I know I was there and all but still…”

Harry arched an eyebrow, smiling for the first time all day. “Did you expect that everything would just go according to a normal schedule now that Riddle is dead?”

“Nah,” Ron shook his head. “I mean you’re still you and you still attract a certain amount of trouble but you know, you’re seventeen and it’s just a little weird to hear you say ‘my wife’ and have it come out so natural.”

Hermione shook her head in bemusement at the pair of them. “This time last year I thought we weren’t going to make it out alive. I think the fact that Harry’s got a chance to be married at all is a miracle.”

“But there’s still the small matter of figuring how who the hell started this Quaffle rolling,” Ron said dryly.

“And why,” Hermione agreed.

“I can’t seem to make any sense of it,” Harry sighed, hating to get back on to a serious topic but knowing they should. He thanked Kreacher when the elf put a plate in front of him and began to eat, the others following suit.

“Do you want to wake Ginny up to eat now or in a bit?” Hermione asked, taking a drink of water.

Harry shook his head. “She was completely out when I went up a few minutes ago. I’ll check at her next round of potions and see if I can wake her enough to eat. If we can’t, Martha is going to have to come and set up a feeding line.”

“What’s a feeding line?” Ron asked his mouth half full.

“It’s… uhm,” Harry paused looking at Hermione who shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “Well, I think it will feed directly into Ginny’s blood stream and get nutrients in without going through her stomach. That way she can’t throw it up.”

“Gross,” Ron groaned, taking another bite.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Anyway, back to whoever did this. We’re definitely thinking a woman?”

“That’s what Ginny thinks, although of course I haven’t pressed her for more details,” Harry said. “She’s got good instincts, though, so I trust her on this.”

“The blood boiling hex was planned as part of this, it must have been to get you both in the hospital,” Ron said, biting into a roll. “Except that it should have just killed you. That part is weird. Since the poison is so complicated to make and will only keep for a few hours she wouldn’t have wanted to make it unless she knew she could get you.”

“I think,” Harry hesitated, coming back to a theory that had been ruminating around in his brain. “I think that it was the snatcher making a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

He took a bite, trying to work out how to explain it. “I think that whoever the mastermind is, they hired this snatcher and told them to injure both of us enough to land us in St. Mungo’s.”

Ron’s eyes lit up. “But since most snatchers are complete idiots, the bloke thought he’d just try to kill you instead and it was only luck that you weren’t killed, and you both ended up in St. Mungo’s anyway!”

Harry nodded and Hermione rested her chin in her hand, looking off towards the sparsely furnished sitting room. “I think you’re probably on to something there. The mastermind wouldn’t want the hired help to know what she was doing, so she wouldn’t have told him why she needed you hurt badly, but not killed.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed. “He takes matters into his own hands and it just happens that it still works out that she got what she wanted. She may have said she was going to poison us, and he just thought he’d do it faster.”

“But why would anyone do this?” Hermione said again. “I just don’t see the point in trying to kill you slowly and why impregnate Ginny? Why force you to get married?”

“Especially if they knew just how happy being married is making you,” Ron said, scraping his plate. “Typically the bad guys don’t want their victims to be happy.”

Harry shook his head. “That probably wasn’t something they were after but…” he thought of what it was like getting to wake up with Ginny every morning, even if she wasn’t awake before he left for work. Only a few days in and he didn’t ever want to go back to the way it was before. “This is going to sound odd.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Harry this whole situation is completely cocked up. Just say it.”

Harry grinned sheepishly. “I’m just glad that if something had to go wrong, that it ended up this way.”

“It definitely wasn’t something you were looking for,” Hermione smiled knowingly. “But you ended up being exactly where you wanted to be.”

“Yes,” Harry agreed.

“Master,” Kreacher interrupted and he looked over to the elf who was still in the kitchen cleaning a pot. “Mistress is waking up.”

Harry stood. “Thanks Kreacher. I’ll be back down in a bit.”

“Take your time,” Ron waved him off. “I know where the biscuits are.”

Harry sprinted up the stairs and opened the door, spilling light into the dark room. Ginny blinked sleepily as he came in. “Hey,” he said softly, coming to sit next to her. “How are you feeling?”

She licked her dry lips, “Thirsty.”

He got her glass from the night stand and helped her to drink a little. “You ready to eat something?”

Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”

Harry ran his hand over her cheek. “I know you feel bloody awful but you’re going to have to eat something.”

“Toast maybe?” She conceded, rolling onto her back and looking up at him. “Did Ron and Hermione still come for dinner?”

“Yeah, they offered to reschedule but I said to just come anyway,” Harry said. “They’re still downstairs. If you’re up for it, they’ll come up and spend some time with you and if not Ron will eat all the sweets we have in the house.”

Ginny chuckled, like he hoped she would. “Maybe after I eat something they can come up for a bit.”

He bent and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back up with some toast soon.”

Harry managed to get a slice of toast into her, some water and her potion for strengthening and the new one for nausea that she was now going to take twice a day before she passed out again. He watched her sleep for a minute. She was still so beautiful, even as sick as she was. She was brave, she kept her sense of humor through much of this and she was showing so much love that it was simply stunning to watch. He was lucky to have her. He tucked the covers in around and went back downstairs to Ron and Hermione who were standing in the kitchen.

“She fell asleep again,” Harry told them.

“It’s okay, Harry. We’ll be over for dinner a lot, I expect.” Hermione said and she stood. “If nothing else I’ll see her in a few days when I take my shift as day nurse.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Ron said as he clapped him on the back. “Pregnancy is supposed to make women total bonkers and do all sorts of odd things.”

“Really?” Hermione said, arching her eyebrow. “Is that what happens?”

Ron grinned and snagged her around the waist, laying a kiss on her cheek. “I hear you have to put up with your wife turning into a-” at her look he cut off whatever he was going to say.

Hermione flushed. “I’m not going to forget you said that.”

“You never forget anything,” he reminded her scowling a bit. “Have I ever told you just how beautiful you are?”

Hermione sighed and pushed away from him in disgust.

“That she’ll forget, though,” Ron said to Harry who was grinning at the argument. “Any kind of compliment and she just shrugs it off.”

“You only compliment me when you’re trying to make me forget that I’m annoyed with you,” Hermione said peevishly, marching over and getting into his face.

Ron leaned in and tenderly kissed her. Harry would have looked away, except he was waiting for Hermione to give him a good tongue lashing and he was hard pressed to miss the entertainment.

Instead Ron cupped her cheek, touching his forehead to hers and for once she didn’t have anything to say. “You’re beautiful and when you’re pregnant, you’re allowed to throw pots at my head if you like. I won’t complain.”

“At least it’s only last nine months,” Harry added helpfully and they both laughed, breaking the tension.

“Too true,” Ron agreed, taking Hermione’s hand in his.

She smiled up at Ron and grinned. “I’m going to hold you to that, you know.”

“I have no doubt,” Ron told her as they walked over to the fireplace to floo back to the Burrow. “You never forget anything.”
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