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Path Diverged II | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Mental Abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 220 Summary: The Wizarding world finally knows that Lord Voldemort has returned, and the Second War has begun. As Harry prepares to enter his sixth year at Hogwarts, he is forced to deal with the trauma from his last encounter with Voldemort, the upcoming trial of Dolores Umbridge, Sirius's uncomfortable questions about his childhood, his budding relationship with Ginny Weasley, and the unknown shadow of what lies ahead as the "Chosen One" who must defeat Voldemort once and for all. This is an AU take of Half-Blood Prince following my previous story, Path Diverged. Hitcount: Story Total: 92600; Chapter Total: 3260 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: My school semester has ended, and I have one more week of work before my students are let out for Christmas holidays (2 weeks!). Of course, that means one more week before I have my own children to care for, but that won't slow me down when it comes to writing. I don't know that I'll post more than a couple updates over the last few weeks of 2019, but I'll definitely post a bit more than I've been able to. Once January starts, I'll be swamped with teaching and schoolwork again, but hopefully a bit less than what I've been handling thus far. Anyway, we're going to start wrapping up summer holidays over the next couple of chapters or so, including key moments relevant to the plot. Some dialogue taken from HBP chapter 6, "Draco's Detour", as well as chapter 7, "The Slug Club." Enjoy! |
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HARRY POTTER TESTIFIES AGAINST UMBRIDGE, MINISTER HAILS HIM AS “TRUE HERO” Yesterday morning, the trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge took place at the Ministry of Magic, the subject the abusive actions she took towards underage students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The majority of the charges against her were in regards to her treatment of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, better known these days as the Chosen One. “Don’t they have anything better to do than report about me?” Harry groused over breakfast the next morning as he stared at the cover page of the Daily Prophet. Sirius had to conceal a grin. The young man sitting before him seemed much more himself this morning than he had for most of the summer. He had known it would be difficult for him to face Umbridge, but it seemed to have done some good for Harry’s mind. The quiet, guarded young man who flinched or became unfocused without warning had been replaced by a much louder and incredibly grumpy sixteen-year-old overnight. “No,” he said at last, setting down his mug of coffee (he’d taken a liking to it during his time on the run out of the country). “But then, you should’ve expected this.” “I know,” groaned Harry in exasperation, lowering the paper to shoot a scowl at Sirius. “Doesn’t mean I like it.” “You didn’t see the look on Snape’s face when Scrimgeour called you a ‘true hero,’” replied Sirius, unable to hide the grin any longer. “I was certain he’d swallowed a lemon whole!” “Spies don’t get public praise until their job is done, I expect,” said Harry, though he smiled, as well. It was a lesser reaction than Sirius had been expecting. He frowned to himself about it as Harry looked over the article in the Daily Prophet again. “The reporter didn’t mention what Umbridge said to me.” “I… may have insisted she cut that part out of her report,” said Sirius after a moment. “Strongly,” he added when Harry looked up at him. His godson just raised his eyebrows. “Fine, I bought her off,” admitted Sirius. “Lucky for me, Scrimgeour was on my side for that one. Says he doesn’t like the idea of your image being tainted by accusations of abuse or panic attacks.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Malfoy saw. Everyone will know by the second day of school, anyway.” He buried himself in the newspaper again while Sirius considered this. Maybe he was long overdue for a chat with his cousin Cissa. She had to be smarting at the fact that the Black fortune had not gone to her or Bellatrix, but she could probably keep her son and the other Slytherin students in line if he played his cards right. In the meantime, however, he had another line of thought that needed to be addressed. “Did you mean to cast a Stinging Hex at those Aurors yesterday?” he asked. Harry startled and looked up. “What?” “Your panic attack,” said Sirius. “The Aurors tried to grab you before Ginny could get over to you, but you cast a Stinging Hex at them.” “Oh,” said Harry. “I just remember feeling hands I didn’t know. I wanted them to let go, and they did.” Sirius nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. “Anyway, Ginny shouted at them to back off before she went to you, and, well…” “Luna calls her my anchor,” said Harry, sounding vaguely amused as he reached for his mug of tea. “Astute observation,” said Sirius with a sad smile, “though I do worry about what will happen once you’re back at Hogwarts.” “You mean the fact that we’re in different years,” sighed Harry. “I know, I’ve been worried about it myself.” “Do you think Ron and Hermione could manage?” asked Sirius. “Hermione’s been watching Ginny like a hawk anytime something happens,” said Harry. “It’s just – you and Ginny handle it differently, you know?” “The way I approach you would be different from the girl you’re in love with,” Sirius acknowledged. “They haven’t been alone with you during any land mines, have they?” Harry shook his head, suddenly appearing every bit the subdued teen Sirius had known of late. He inwardly cursed himself for bringing up the subject even though he knew it needed to be addressed. “We might have to chat with Ginny about having her step back a bit so they can try,” Sirius suggested after a moment. “I know she won’t like it –” “Understatement,” muttered Harry. “ – but it’s necessary,” continued Sirius firmly. “You’ve made incredible progress the last few weeks, but you also know that there are good days and bad days, with no clues as to what kind of day it’ll be until it happens.” “Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I – I know.” Breakfast was rather quiet after that. Sirius felt awful about it, but it had to be done. He had to know that others could take care of Harry during a flashback or panic attack if he or Ginny were not nearby at the moment. He resolved to speak to Ginny about it as soon as they headed to the Burrow for the day and focused on his food once more. Ginny was in the kitchen helping her mother and Fleur prepare for dinner (a rather tense affair that Hermione was glad to be missing out on) the first time Harry had a flashback without her nearby. Hermione had watched Ginny’s interactions with Harry closely, determined to figure out the best approach to handling the situation, and she’d memorized the clues to look for in figuring out if he was having a flashback or having a panic attack. She, Harry, and Ron had been up in Ron’s room, talking about what Slughorn might be like as their new Potions teacher, and Ron, as per usual, couldn’t pass up any Potions-related conversation without some kind of scathing remark about Professor Snape. “I don’t see how anyone could possibly be worse than that greasy git.” “Ron!” Hermione rebuked him before glancing at Harry. His eyes had slid out of focus, and he was sitting stiffly, his left hand already clenched over the top of his right. “Damn,” she muttered, knowing that meant he was remembering Professor Umbridge’s treatment of him, and she carefully reached out to place her hands on top of his. “Harry,” she said quietly, “she’s not here, she won’t hurt you ever again.” It took a few seconds, but then Harry’s eyes cleared and he heaved in a shuddering breath as he looked over at her. “Sorry,” he muttered, pulling his hands apart. Hermione was pleased to see that he hadn’t dug in enough to break the skin, but it was a close thing. “Ginny’s rule, Harry,” she reminded him quietly. You have nothing to be sorry for. Harry nodded and shot her a lopsided grin. “I guess you’re a bit of an anchor, too,” he told her, and Hermione smiled at him. “It’s good to at least know Ginny and Sirius aren’t the only ones,” she told him. She knew that panic attacks might be a different story, but that he had responded to her this time was quite encouraging. Whatever it took, Hermione was determined to protect Harry and help him heal. She hadn’t told any of them about how Professor Dumbledore had Obliviated her parents to keep Harry safe from both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, and felt it was important to keep it to herself at all costs. Given that none of the adults had asked her about it, she was certain that the headmaster hadn’t told anyone about what he had done. Harry didn’t need to know everything others were doing to keep him safe when he needed to focus on his own healing first and foremost. Hermione could keep him safe in this way, and was determined to do just that. Harry still had such a long way to go. Still, there was the fact that she wasn’t around Harry quite as much as Ron was when they were at school. She was planning to continue with the same classes as her friends, but she was also expecting to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Ron needed a chance to prove he was enough of an anchor for Harry, as well. She was pretty certain he would be since he was Harry’s first-ever friend (a thought that still felt a bit like a knife to the heart because Harry had been denied the chance for friendship his entire childhood with the Dursleys), but she worried about Ron’s rather abrasive nature in comparison to how she, Ginny, and even Sirius responded to Harry’s flashbacks. Ron had confided to her that he’d had to hit Harry round the face to snap him out of an episode with his scar after his first Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape, and admitted that the experience had been unnerving. Harry did not need physical pain to snap him out of a flashback. Thankfully, her fears about Ron were put to rest the very next day. She and Ginny had been involved in their own discussion during lunch when Ron suddenly said, “Harry, it’s lunchtime, we’re at the Burrow, we’re safe, remember mate?” Hermione turned quickly to see that Harry’s hands were clenching the edge of the table as he sat stiffly, but Ron had a firm hand on his shoulder and was rubbing it gently. He had already leaned forward to get a good look at Harry’s face. She watched as Harry nodded tightly and took three even breaths before relaxing at last. “Thanks, Ron,” Harry said quietly, and they both returned to eating the sandwiches Mrs. Weasley had prepared for them. Turning back to Ginny, Hermione was pleased to see her friend was smiling in relief. “I knew he could rely on you both,” she finally said, meeting Hermione’s eyes. “I’m glad to see I was right.” “’Course you were,” said Ron between mouthfuls of roast beef sandwich. “You don’t have the monopoly on Harry, Ginny. He was my friend first.” “Spoken like a jealous lover,” Ginny retorted, which resulted in a rather rude comment from Ron and a stern rebuke from their mother. Hermione caught Harry’s eye and they both grinned at each other as the siblings were forced to apologize to the other for their unsavory comments, the both of them scowling at different corners of the room as they did so. Over the next few days, it started to almost become a race between Hermione, Ron, and Ginny as to who could notice and respond the quickest to Harry’s struggles with flashbacks. It was Ron’s fault that it happened, really, but since Harry actually found it rather humorous, Hermione forced herself not to dissuade the competition. The most amusing incident of this race occurred the day before they due for their trip to Diagon Alley to get their school supplies for the year. Luna and Neville were there for the afternoon, so they’d found a copse of trees for shade from the hot sunlight. Ginny was dozing on her back, head cushioned on Harry’s left leg while Luna was carefully inspecting the tree Harry was leaning against for a wrackspurt infestation. Ron and Neville were playing gobstones while Hermione was rereading the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5. The quiet chatting and relaxing shouldn’t have set off any land mines, but it seemed that sometimes Harry’s mind wasn’t always safe from itself. “Harry?” Luna suddenly said, and Hermione quickly looked up to see the familiar glassy-eyed expression on his face. Dropping her book, she crawled over the grass to Harry as Ron dropped his gobstones, which immediately squirted their disgusting liquid at Neville. “I got it!” called out Ron as Ginny startled and shot up, her head colliding into Hermione’s and sending both girls sprawling, Hermione clutching at her aching skull with a groan and Ginny doing the same, only swearing loudly. Ron burst out laughing, and the whole scene appeared to bring Harry back to himself, because he blinked and looked around at them, completely confused. “What’d I miss?” he asked. “Luna noticed you’d zoned out, mate, and the girls rammed right into each other to try and get to you first,” said Ron, still chuckling. “I guess the noise from us was enough to snap you out of it.” He made his way over to Hermione as Harry reached for Ginny. “Are you all right?” Ron asked her quietly. “I’m fine,” said Hermione, still rubbing her forehead. She felt Ron pull her hand away as he looked over the smarting spot on her skull. “I don’t see a bruise,” he murmured, “but if you do get one, Mum’s the expert at getting rid of them.” His fingers lightly brushed over her forehead, and Hermione felt her breath catch. “I think you three need to ease up on the competition,” said Neville with a small grin as he wiped gobstone liquid off his face with a handkerchief Luna had handed him. “No way!” said Ron at once, seemingly satisfied that Hermione was fine and turning back to Neville, which left Hermione feeling saddened for reasons she couldn’t bring herself to identify. “It’s not like we’ll have a lot of opportunities to be the best once we’re at school. Well, I mean, Hermione and I can still race since we’ll all have most of the same classes this year.” Harry laughed. “You act like I’m some prize to be won,” he said. “Just your brain when it’s having a hard time,” said Ginny as she massaged her forehead. “I’m afraid the rest of you has already been claimed.” Hermione watched as Harry smiled at Ginny before leaning over to kiss her softly. “I love you,” she heard him whisper, and her heart felt as though it might burst. Harry had had precious little to enjoy about life, but the way Ginny had found her way in to the most vulnerable parts of him was… magical. Harry was the happiest she had ever seen him in the five years she and Ron had known him despite the minefield he still struggled with, and he deserved every ounce of joy life could spare for him. Another hurdle they had to face, however, was Harry’s reticence to discuss his nightmares. Hermione knew he’d always been prone to them, but when he and Sirius emerged one morning from the Floo being very stiff with each other, Hermione couldn’t help but ask what was going on. “He’s not talking about his nightmares,” said Sirius. “It’s nothing,” said Harry at the same time. “Sirius, I’m fine!” “This makes four nights in a row,” said Sirius, shooting Harry an exasperated look. “You were screaming this last time, kiddo!” Harry paled and looked away. “Harry,” said Hermione cautiously, “you know we can’t help you if you aren’t honest with us. Please don’t hide the truth.” Harry shoved his hands under his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I know,” he finally mumbled. “I don’t like talking about it.” “Four nights in a row is pretty serious, Harry,” said Hermione, moving closer to Harry and pulling his hands away from his face. “Clearly there’s something you’re struggling to process, and if you keep hiding it away, it’ll keep eating at you.” “I think we have a new rule,” said Sirius with a smile. “We’ll call this one Hermione’s Rule, Harry. Don’t hide the truth.” “A new rule?” called out Ginny as she came down the stairs. “Do tell!” It felt a bit like watching her father pull a particularly stubborn wisdom tooth free from a patient’s mouth, but eventually Hermione, with the help of Ginny, Sirius, and even Ron when he finally came downstairs, were able to get Harry to open up about his nightmares, which apparently revolved around the worst that Vernon Durlsey had had to offer in his neglect and abuse of Harry, only with Voldemort’s snide remarks and jibes thrown in. It didn’t matter that Harry protested how his uncle had never seriously injured him the few times he had been physically abusive. Hermione was almost in tears as she pleaded with Harry to understand that abuse was still abuse, no matter how often it happened. She wasn’t quite sure that she and the others succeeded that day, but Sirius did report a lull in Harry’s nightmares after that difficult conversation. Whatever came their way, though, Hermione knew they would find a way to handle it. That’s what they had always done, after all, and she was prepared to keep it up, no matter what. Harry’s mental health and the future of their world depended on it. “I don’t get why we need extra security just to go to Diagon Alley,” said Ron in frustration as they prepared to leave for their shopping trip. “You, Dad, and Sirius should be more than enough for the four of us, I reckon.” “Minister Scrimgeour is insisting,” sighed Arthur. “We’ll be using Ministry cars to get there and back, as well.” “Someone’s going to kidnap Harry right out of the Floo, now?” said Ron incredulously. “You realize how daft that sounds, right? Harry and Sirius use the Floo every day to get here and back to Grimmauld Place.” “Those are known entities that we can trust, though,” Arthur reminded him. “They’re set up specifically to work between here and there and nowhere else.” “Alright,” Ron scowled, “but are we going to be tailed by Aurors all day while we’re out?” He didn’t much fancy the idea of grim-faced Aurors tracking their every step. How could they even be sure that any Aurors could be trusted outside of Tonks and Kingsley, anyway? To Ron’s surprise, his father smiled. “Actually, Professor Dumbledore stepped in and insisted that Hagrid would be enough security on top of myself, your mother, and Sirius,” he said. “Hagrid’s size and lineage would make it quite difficult to take him down, after all.” “Hagrid’s our security?” Harry piped up as he came down the stairs from using the bathroom, and Ron was pleased to see that he looked happy. “That’s brilliant!” Ron thought so, too. The right was fast and smooth (so much better than the Ford Anglia he and Harry had lost to the Forbidden Forest at the start of their second year), and Hagrid greeted them cheerily as they headed inside the Leaky Cauldron. Once in Diagon Alley, they split up. Ron’s parents took Ginny to Flourish and Blotts to purchase all their schoolbooks while Sirius and Hagrid escorted Ron, Hermione, and Harry to Madam Malkin’s. Hermione wanted new dress robes while Ron and Harry both needed new school robes. Molly was certain Ron had shot up another four inches since the last time she’d purchased robes for him, and Harry had (finally) outgrown his. “Knew you wouldn’t be a runt forever,” he told Harry, and his friend whacked his shoulder good-naturedly. “Prat,” smiled Harry. “Git,” Ron returned easily. Hermione rolled her eyes as Sirius laughed and led them inside the shop while Hagrid stood guard outside. Then they heard a rather unmistakable voice from behind a rack of dress robes. “… not a child, in case you hadn’t noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone.” Sirius stepped around the rack rather quickly. “I don’t know about that, Draco,” he said loudly, “it’s really not a safe thing to go wandering around all on your own these days. Wouldn’t you agree, cousin?” Ron stepped around the rack as well with Harry and Hermione right behind him. Draco Malfoy was wearing a set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves, Madam Malkin busy with the hem of the robes. A moment later, his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, emerged from behind another rack, looking unsurprised to see Sirius with Ron and his friends. “Sirius,” Narcissa spoke in a voice that sounded pleasant enough, but had a tinge of coldness to it. “It’s been quite a long time since we last spoke.” She extended a pale hand, and Sirius stiffly bent over it, reminding Ron of the annoying pure-blood customs his mother had taught him, which he usually ignored. He was curious to see how Sirius would interact with the stiff woman, and resolved to keep his mouth shut for once. “Indeed,” said Sirius with a smile that matched Narcissa’s tone. “It’s a shame we weren’t able to speak at the trial last week. I must say, Draco’s testimony was rather enlightening, wouldn’t you agree?” Ron noticed that Hermione was already clutching Harry’s right hand, but his friend’s eyes were, for once, clear at the vague mention of Umbitch (he had picked the alternate name up from Sirius, much to his mother’s displeasure). “You know the Malfoy family has always stood behind the Ministry,” said Narcissa in the same pleasantly chilling voice. “Even if the choices being made by our Ministry are sometimes… indelicate.” Ron couldn’t stop his snort or scowl at the words. That was one word for it, he thought sourly. “I can understand your devotion to power,” said Sirius with a small smirk. “That has always driven both of our family lines.” “Not so much yourself, though,” observed Narcissa coolly. Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “We clearly have different definitions of ‘power’, Cissa,” he said. “I just hope that your devotion to family supersedes all of that.” He stepped back to clap a hand to Harry’s shoulder. “I thought you had devotion to our family,” said Narcissa rather coldly. “Family,” said Sirius firmly, “is not defined only by blood. I pray you understand that someday soon, Narcissa.” Narcissa finally scowled, and Ron decided it had been worth it to let Sirius verbally spar with the woman rather than mouth off the way he usually did. “We were family until you made your choice,” she said, voice positively frigid now. Sirius shrugged without a hint of remorse. “I chose to be who I am rather than who Walburga insisted I should be,” he replied. He paused, then added, “Andy chose the same.” “Don’t talk to me about my sister,” snapped Narcissa, face contorting in rage. Madam Malkin was telling Malfoy that she needed to adjust the sleeves, reaching for his left arm. “Ouch!” bellowed Malfoy, slapping her hand away. “Watch where you’re putting your pins, woman! Mother – I don’t think I want these anymore –” Ron watched as he disrobed quickly, throwing the bundle of green at Madam Malkin’s feet. “You’re right, Draco,” said Narcissa after a long moment of glaring at Sirius. “Now that I’m aware of the kind of scum that shops here…” Her eyes drifted from Sirius to Hermione, and Ron felt a swoop of anger at the contemptuous look on her face. “We’ll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting’s.” Sirius gave a mocking bow to allow her to pass, and Ron backed up to avoid having Malfoy ram into him. “By the way, cousin mine,” Sirius suddenly called out as Narcissa reached the door to the shop, “I trust you and Draco know that anything he and his Inquisitorial Squad friends might claim about the trial last week will be taken with a rather large grain of salt by the Wizarding community.” Narcissa stopped and turned around. Ron saw her eyes flicker from Sirius to Harry and back again. “Mr. Potter has a certain image that needs to be upheld right now in order to maintain hope in these dark times,” she finally said. “My son and I are certainly not in the position to put ourselves at odds with that image. Well, not at this time, anyway.” She placed her hand on her son’s shoulder and swept from the shop. “Well,” Harry spoke after a moment, “that was…” “She won’t talk,” said Sirius confidently, “and she’ll make sure Draco and the others fall in line. Almost all of those students from the Inquisitorial Squad have at least one Death Eater parent they need to protect. Saying anything negative about you puts their position in our society at risk right now.” “Excellent verbal sparring, by the way,” Ron told Sirius as he prepared to be measured for his new robes. Sirius laughed. “That’s how you survive in those kinds of pure-blood families,” he explained to Harry and Hermione as Madam Malkin worked on fitting Ron’s robes, muttering distractedly to herself. “A sharp tongue gets you far in that environment.” “I think I’ll pass on that,” said Harry with raised eyebrows. “Emotional manipulation, you told me once. Sounds more like abuse to me.” Ron blinked and met Hermione’s eyes, sharing a moment of surprise and hope. That was the first time they’d ever heard Harry use that word. Maybe that meant he was starting to come to terms with his own childhood. Sirius seemed to have noticed this, as well, because he said, “There’s a fine line between the two that is all too easily blurred. I hope more families are coming around to the understanding that raising children in this way does not create the happiest of adults. We’re all too busy trying to one-up each other instead of focusing on our own self-worth and happiness.” “I agree,” said Hermione, “there’s no way that’s healthy for anyone.” Ron glanced at Harry and saw his eyes go glassy, but since he was covered in pins and couldn’t move, he just nodded in Harry’s direction, hoping either Hermione or Sirius would catch his meaning. Hermione noticed at once and quickly reached out to clasp Harry’s hands in her own. Ron couldn’t hear her whispering to their friend, but he was pretty certain he knew what she was saying, anyway. Moments later, Harry blinked, eyes focused and clear once more, and nodded his thanks to Hermione. Yeah, Ron thought as Madam Malkin finished with his robes, they would see Harry through this healing process, no matter what. “I wonder what Malfoy’s up with without his Mummy,” Ron remarked as he looked out one of the front windows of Fred and George’s store to watch Draco Malfoy quickly sneak past, and Ginny had to agree with him. She knew Harry had his Invisibility Cloak with him (“Just in case,” Sirius had said) and that he probably wanted to follow the blonde git, but the cloak wouldn’t fit all four of them. “I’ll distract Mum and Dad,” she spoke up, and a quick kiss to Harry later, she was dragging her mother and father around the shop to point out the Pygmy Puffs and the Patented Daydream Charms, even pulling in the twins to explain how the charms worked, which attracted Sirius’s attention. “That’s some clever spellwork you’ve done,” he told the twins, impressed. “Like anything could top your inventing the Marauder’s Map,” said Fred dismissively. “Best bit of spellwork ever,” agreed George. Molly didn’t know about the map, and started asking Sirius some uncomfortable questions, which thankfully served to further distract the adults from realizing that Harry, Ron, and Hermione weren’t in the store. Finally, a few minutes later, Ginny felt a touch on her arm and turned to see Harry. “That back room is pretty amazing,” Harry said loud enough for her parents to hear. “Have you seen it yet, Ginny? Their Defense line is really something else.” “Oh, is that where you’ve been this whole time?” asked Sirius distractedly. Molly spotted Harry and immediately whirled on him. “Fred and George say they gave you a special map of Hogwarts that Sirius and his friends created?” “Er,” said Harry, taken aback. “Yeah, they did. My dad helped make it, so it probably would’ve been mine if Filch hadn’t – Sirius, how did Filch manage to get his hands on it?” Sirius started to laugh. “It was not my fault,” he began, which made Ginny rather suspicious. “All right, I’d had this idea for a prank on Filch towards the end of our seventh year, about… Merlin, two weeks before we had to sit our N.E.W.T.s, and Wormtail had the map while he was setting up and waiting for his part, but he dozed off and only had time to wipe it before Filch found him. It was a damn shame, losing it. I’m glad that some proper pranksters found it and gave it to the rightful heir.” Fred and George dropped into rather low bows at this as Molly sighed. “This explains so much about your time at Hogwarts,” she said to the twins. “I trust that you haven’t only used it to get into trouble, Harry?” “Er,” said Harry again, and Ginny pressed her lips together hard to keep from smiling. “I mean, when we were running the D.A., I’d use it to check that the coast was clear before allowing students to head back to their common rooms, so… yes and no?” Molly sighed again as Sirus, Fred, and George laughed, and she asked everyone to finish up quickly so they could return back to the Burrow. “You’ll tell me what you saw when we’re back home?” Ginny asked Harry quietly as they prepared to leave. “Yeah,” Harry replied softly. “Thanks for distracting the adults, Gin.” “Only because I love you,” she told him cheekily, and he laughed. “I love you, too.” Ginny convinced her parents to purchase one of the Pygmy Puffs, and after they’d paid for their things, the group made their way back to the Ministry cars to make the drive back home. Once they arrived, Sirius and Molly quickly divvied up Harry’s things from the rest for Kreacher to take back to Grimmauld Place. Harry went up to Ron’s room to help him put his school supplies away while Hermione and Ginny took care of their own things. They congregated in Ron’s room once they were done, and Ginny listened as Harry, Ron, and Hermione filled her on how they’d tracked Malfoy down to Knockturn Alley and into the troublesome shop Borgin and Burkes. Malfoy had demanded that something in the shop be kept safe, but they hadn’t seen what he had been pointing at, and Hermione’s attempt to uncover the item had backfired spectacularly. “I wonder what it could have been,” said Ginny contemplatively when they finished their tale. “There could be a lot of explanations,” said Hermione. “It could be something of his father’s –” “Dad says the Ministry raided Malfoy Manor after Mr. Malfoy was arrested,” said Ron. “I don’t know that they would’ve had a lot of time to hide anything.” “But he’s sold things to that shop before,” said Harry, reminding them of his first and rather unfortunate trip through the Floo Network four summers ago. “Doesn’t Malfoy have a Hand of Glory?” suggested Ron. “Maybe he’s broken it.” “The thing that bothers me,” said Harry, “is that he said, ‘Don’t forget to keep that one safe’, like Borgin’s got another one of the broken objects, and Malfoy wants both.” “Why, though?” asked Ginny. “What reason could he have?” “I don’t know,” sighed Harry, sounding frustrated. “His dad’s in Azkaban, so maybe revenge?” Ron blinked. “Malfoy, revenge? What can he even do about it?” “That’s my point,” said Harry, “I don’t know! But he’s up to something, and I think we should take it seriously. His father’s a Death Eater and –” Harry broke off, mouth open, staring blankly at the window behind Ginny. This wasn’t a flashback or a panic attack, Ginny knew instantly. This was Harry having a sudden thought. “Harry?” she said quietly. “I think he’s a Death Eater,” Harry finally spoke. “He’s replaced his father as a Death Eater!” Ginny sucked in a breath, seriously considering it, but Ron snorted disbelievingly. “Malfoy? He’s sixteen, Harry! You think You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join?” “Sirius’s brother Regulus was sixteen when he joined up with Voldemort,” answered Harry quietly. Ron gaped. “Are you serious?” “No,” Harry deadpanned, “I’m Harry. Sirius is downstairs. Look – my point is,” he hurried on as Ron groaned at the joke, “that it’s happened before. It’s not outside the realm of possibility!” “But what makes you think he’s joined the Death Eaters?” asked Hermione. “In Madam Malkin’s. She didn’t touch him, but he yelled and jerked his arm away from her when she went to roll up his sleeve. It was his left arm. He’s been branded with the Dark Mark.” “It’s always the left arm,” said Ginny quietly. “You weren’t there, Ginny,” said Hermione, making Ginny clench her jaw to control her temper. “That’s not enough proof.” “Sirius was busy arguing with his mum,” added Ron. “I think he just wanted to get out of there.” “But do you remember at the trial,” continued Harry, “when he talked about supporting people in power, he was rubbing at his left arm then, too! Today he showed Borgin something we couldn’t see,” he pressed on, clearly undaunted by Ron and Hermione’s attempts to object. “Something that really scared Borgin. It was the Mark, I know it – he was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, you saw how seriously Borgin took him!” Ginny watched as Ron and Hermione exchange a look and decided she was done. “When you’ve both decided to actually listen, Harry and I will be waiting.” She grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him from the room, ignoring the dumbfounded faces of the other two, and stopped only when she had pulled Harry into her bedroom and pushed him to sit down on her bed. “You believe me, don’t you?” said Harry as soon as he was sitting. Ginny shut her bedroom door. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I do. The Riddle in the diary was perfectly happy to use an eleven-year-old to open the Chamber of Secrets and let the Basilisk bring harm to others in his desire to get to you. I highly doubt that Voldemort’s changed all that much in the years since he created that thing.” “Thank you,” said Harry, sounding immensely relieved. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them. Why don’t they think it’s possible?” Ginny frowned thoughtfully as she considered. She had a thought about that, and she was pretty certain she was right about her suspicions, but saying it out loud… it could potentially damage Harry’s relationship with Ron and Hermione. However, she also refused to lie to Harry. He’d had more than enough of that in his life. “I think… Oh, Harry, I don’t know if there’s a good way to say this.” Harry watched her, tense and confused. “They don’t trust my judgment?” he finally asked. “Not… not exactly,” said Ginny carefully. “I think it stems from a worry about what Voldemort did to you that night.” “They think he messed me up that much?” Harry looked rather offended. “I know my brain’s a bit… I dunno, ravaged? But I’m still me.” “And I see that,” said Ginny quickly, striding forward to sit down next to Harry and take his hands in her own. “Voldemort didn’t take away your ability to think or function, and I know that Ron and Hermione understand that, but you’ve struggled a lot this summer, and I think it’s harder for them to see past that. You spent a year lashing out at the slightest provocation, made some rash choices, got tortured” – she instinctively tightened her grip on Harry’s hands – “possessed, almost died… and then the truth about your childhood, the trial, the prophecy, even, it’s just… you have been through so much, and I think they have spent more time worrying about the way things have affected you than they’re willing to let on. You’re still having at least four flashbacks each day.” “So they think I’ve gone round the bend,” said Harry flatly, not meeting Ginny’s eyes. “No, that’s…” Ginny sighed. “I think they just need some more time to really see that you’re still you. They’ve been too focused on your healing and supporting that healing to see… everything else. They’ll come around eventually, they always do.” She released Harry’s hands to turn his face to hers. “In the meantime,” she continued with a smile, “you’ve got me.” “Promise?” Ginny nodded and kissed Harry, who responded instantly. She clambered onto his lap and buried her hands in his wild hair, his arms wrapping around her waist as they lost themselves in each other. Even though Ron and Hermione had known Harry longer, Ginny knew she was the one who saw Harry as he truly was: damaged, yes, but still wholly Harry. He remained every bit the smart, clever, curious, strong, and incredible boy she had loved for so long. Ginny knew better than anyone the toll emotional damage could take on a person. It had taken her some time (not to mention the support of a Mind Healer) to find herself again after Harry had destroyed the diary and set her free from its clutches. It had taken longer to set aside the fear and embarrassment so that she could just be herself around Harry, no matter how she felt about him. But now… now Ginny got to wake up every morning with the knowledge that Harry’s smiles and laughter existed because of her, because of the love he had for her. Her hands drifted from Harry’s hair, one finding its way under his shirt to lightly trace the faint scar left over from the Slicing Hex Bellatrix Lestrange had landed there two months ago. He shuddered at her touch, and Ginny felt a thrill that had her pressing closer to Harry as his hands slid under her top – “Harry, Ginny, it’s your turn to help with making dinner!” Groaning, Harry and Ginny pulled apart, panting slightly, Harry’s cheeks flushed as he slid his hands out from under her top to rest at her hips. “Mum has excellent timing, as per usual,” sighed Ginny, and Harry nodded. “I’ll er, be needing a minute to…” Harry trailed off, face flushing even more. Thankfully, Ginny didn’t need him to say anything. She could tell how worked up he’d become by this latest bout of snogging. “I’ll tell her you’re in the bathroom,” she said with the most impish grin she could manage. “But hurry, or I might drown in the Phlegm downstairs.” Harry chuckled, and Ginny slid off his lap and headed for the door. She glanced back at Harry to see him bracing himself on the edge of her bed, clearly trying to calm down certain parts of himself, and stifled the laughter that wanted to bubble free. In spite of his trauma, Harry was very much still a teenage boy. Taking a calming breath, Ginny headed downstairs, spouted off her lie, and set about making dinner, Harry coming down a few minutes later looking calmer, if still a bit flushed. They worked in tandem under Molly's directions, ignoring Fleur and exchanging happy looks every so often. Ginny decided later as she watched how stiffly Harry interacted with Ron and Hermione at dinner that she'd made the right choice to trust Harry as completely as she did. He held her hand tightly through the meal and hugged her harder than usual when it was time for him to leave. "Thank you for believing me," he whispered to her. "Always," she returned, and then he was gone in a burst of green flame. Hermione shot Ginny a quizzical look, which she promptly ignored in favor of an early bedtime, though she lay in bed, feigning sleep long after Hermione turned in for the night. |
| Reviews 220 |
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