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Blood of the Heart | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff Warnings: Death, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 411 Summary: 7th Yr Sequel to Ancient Magic. It is now known the power of immortality resides inside Harry and Ginny. Will their combined powers be enough to protect them from the Dark Lord? Hitcount: Story Total: 198339; Chapter Total: 7796 |
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Disclaimer — I do not own Harry Potter. Lewis Fielding stuck his head into Percy Weasley’s office. “Weasley! Here — the latest inventory reports. They somehow made it to my desk. Busy day today so I’m in no rush, but I’m sure you’ll have time to do them today, won’t you?” “Right,” Percy said distractedly, his eyes on the parchment in his hands. “Weasley,” Fielding said, stepping inside and knocking his knuckles on the top of Percy’s desk. “Today?” Percy looked blankly at the Junior Assistant to the Aurors. Fielding casually leaned over his desk in an attempt to read the correspondence in Percy’s hands. Percy slapped the parchment to his chest. “Sorry, Fielding. What was that?” Fielding stood back and adjusted his perfectly pressed robes. Looking down his thin, pinched nose at the desktop, he reached out to straighten Percy’s nameplate. “What are you reading, Weasley? Anything I need to take to the Aurors?” he inquired, trying to appear nonchalant. “Uh, no,” Percy replied, the letter still wallpapered to his chest. “Just a — a request for a meeting with the Minister. You know how visiting dignitaries get. They all want to meet the Minister.” “Right,” Fielding replied annoyed. “Well - anyway, get me those reports today,” he ordered, rapping his knuckles once more on the desk before turning toward the door. “I’ll get right on it,” Percy answered under his breath. “What was that, Weasley?” Fielding asked, stopping at the door. “Nothing, Fielding, nothing,” Percy replied, dismissing Fielding with a wave of his hands. “Right,” Fielding repeated, shooting one last suspicious look at the parchment Percy held to his chest before heading back to his own office. Percy exhaled. He held the parchment away from himself and reread the letter. He had almost dropped his mug of tea when the non-descript brown barn owl had tapped on his window above his kitchen table that morning. Seeing as he wasn’t on speaking terms with his family, anyone he considered an acquaintance he saw at work, and he spoke to Penelope often enough, no one ever had a reason to send him owl post. On a schedule, Percy had hurriedly untied the parchment, shoved it in the pocket of his robes and Apparated to the Ministry. Now, sitting at his desk, Percy studied the letter. If he did what the letter asked, he would be doing something he rarely ever did. He would be admitting he had made a mistake and that simply did not sit right. Running his hand through his hair, Percy felt his heart beat increase. He suddenly felt warm, his cheeks flushing. Glancing up, he caught his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall opposite his desk. He knew what was coming before he even heard it. ”For Merlin’s sake, Percy! Look at your head! Then look in your heart!” The red hair and matching face - that combination could only belong to one family. As much as he had tried to distance himself from them, he had failed. He paused, feeling a spring release inside him as the tension he had held in for so long gave way to relief. He had failed. But he was willing to reconcile himself to that. In an uncharacteristic spurt of spontaneity, Percy saluted his reflection. A small grin played around the corners of his mouth as he nodded in satisfaction. Reaching out, he pulled Fudge’s schedule toward him and picked up his wand. Flipping to the following week, Percy performed an erasing charm on an appointment. Turning forward a few weeks, Percy traded his wand for his quill and performed some magic of his own. +++++ “You are telling me,” Lord Voldemort rasped, “that Potter and the Weasley chit should bond?” “Yes, my lord,” Snape answered, his eyes holding steady with the Dark Lord’s. “I fail to see why this is in my best interest,” Voldemort rasped, taking a sip of the potion Snape had brought him. Snape’s mind blank, he watched as the potion worked its way through the Dark Lord’s system. The effect was instantaneous. Slumped and hunched over in pain when he entered, the Dark Lord seemed to inflate, his chest filling out, his shoulders straightening, his voice gaining strength. “Borgin has been researching the Obliteration Charm his mother used on you,” Snape said, his voice void of emotion. “He has discovered the charm she performed renders you unable to bond with Miss Weasley in your present state.” “This is not new news. I could have told you that. I have done this before, or have you forgotten?” Voldemort snapped, pushing himself out of the high backed chair he was sitting in. “But he said this was temporary.” “I am not versed in this type of charm, my lord. Borgin believes by allowing Potter and Miss Weasley to go through with their bond, it will give you what his mother took away without needing to have an actual blood bonding ceremony with the Weasley girl.” “How?” Voldemort barked, crossing to the window of his study. Pushing the moth eaten curtains aside, he watched the unknowing pedestrians pass by his front window. “As you know, the manuscript Lucius Malfoy found that detailed the spell he attempted was incomplete. Borgin has the completed version in his possession. He believes the spell Lucius used can be improved on, using the bonded blood.” “And why would I want to try this?” Voldemort sneered. “Because having their bonded blood in your system will be as good as bonding with Miss Weasley,” Snape answered coldly. “The initial potion did not work because the blood procured from the Weasley girl was infused with hatred. That will not be the case this time,” he continued. “The blood used will be taken for the purpose of the registration. They will never know it will be used for this.” Voldemort slowly turned from the window. “Ah yes, the Registration.” Snape waited, listening as Voldemort breathed, his very inhaling and exhaling charging the atmosphere in the room. “Why isn’t Borgin here telling me this himself?” Voldemort asked. Snape’s lip curled in perverse satisfaction as he answered. “He is inept in certain areas, my lord. He is afraid he was recognized during the attack on Diagon Alley because Dumbledore has been keeping a closer watch on him.” Voldemort shook his head in disgust. “Fool. When does he say the potion will be ready?” “In approximately four weeks.” “Four weeks,” Voldemort repeated. “Potter has four weeks left to live.” “This potion will not kill Potter,” Snape commented wistfully. “No,” the Dark Lord hissed, his face cracking into a hideous smile, “it won’t.” ++++ “Joanna? Have you seen Ginny?” Hermione asked, climbing through the portrait hole. “She was just in the dorm. She mentioned something about going to see Harry. She had her book bag with her,” Ginny’s roommate said, looking up from her Charms essay. “Thanks, Joanna. I’ll go see if I can find them upstairs,” Hermione smiled. Joanna watched as Hermione headed up to the dormitory. Turning back to the common room, Joanna’s eye caught Neville’s. She swallowed, closed her open mouth and blushed furiously. Snapping her head down, she tried to focus her attention again on her essay. Unable to move, Neville simply stared at her. Hermione knocked on the door to Harry’s dorm. “Harry? Ginny? Are you in there?” “Yeah, Hermione, come on in,” Harry called. Hermione pushed the door open and stepped inside. Ginny was standing to the side of Harry, her hand on his arm. Harry was shoving books into his book bag. They both turned and smiled at Hermione. “Did you need something?” Ginny asked, sliding her hand down Harry’s arm and clasping Harry’s free hand. Hermione’s eyes followed the movement and she smiled. Ron had been ranting for several days now about how his senses were being assaulted by Harry and Ginny’s outward shows of affection. ”Hermione! He’s holding her hand! Can’t they do that in private?” “Hermione! Aren’t there rules against this sort of stuff? Fred and George would have never put up with this!” “I don’t care! I’m going to take points away from my own house! If I see her kiss him on the cheek one more time or rub his shoulder or touch his arm, I’m going to be sick!” Last night, Hermione had finally told him to shut it. She informed him that in her reading on blood bonds, one of the things that set a bond based on love apart from the others was the constant need to touch. Ron had cringed at this, and Hermione rolled her eyes, explaining it was not a romantic thing at all. The love in the bond led to the ability to provide comfort and calmness. (She didn’t admit it to Ron, but when she read it, Hermione had burst out laughing. It wasn’t that she had a hard time picturing Ginny being affectionate in public. Ginny had grown up surrounded by love. It was the thought of Harry, subconsciously and comfortably, seeking out physical contact, albeit as innocent as hand holding, that made her grin.) She told Ron it was good for Harry and Ginny. It strengthened their bond. And if his stomach bothered him, she would personally take him to see Madam Pomfrey. Or better yet, Hagrid. She was sure Hagrid had something to cure a sour stomach. Still glaring, Ron had shut his mouth. “Professor Borgin is pacing outside the portrait hole. He asked me to come in and see if you were ready, Ginny,” Hermione said. “Any reason he didn’t come in himself?” Ginny asked, as they moved to follow Hermione out the door. “The Fat Lady refused to let him in. Something about needing to protect somebody’s virtue,” Hermione replied, shaking her head as she descended the steps. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll have good luck today, Ginny,” Hermione said, at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you going with her, Harry?” “Yeah, I thought I would. I can get some studying done, too,” Harry said, raising his shoulder that held his book bag. “Well then, I’ll see you later,” Hermione smiled approvingly, waving to them as they climbed out of the portrait hole. Professor Borgin stopped pacing and nodded at Harry and Ginny as the Fat Lady swung shut behind them. Ginny took in his harried appearance. “Are you alright, Professor Borgin?” Ginny asked quietly. “You look pale.” Nathan’s eyes rested on Ginny and he smiled. “I’m fine, Ginny, thank you,” he answered, patting her hand before she removed it. “There was a morning meeting.” “How’d it go?” Harry asked, shifting his book bag onto his other shoulder. “It went…,” Nathan answered. “I will tell you more once we get there. You ready?” Harry and Ginny looked at each other and nodded simultaneously at Nathan. “Good. Let’s go.” The trio made their way through the corridors and down the Grand Staircase. Nathan headed toward a door off to the right, leading Harry and Ginny down the corridor to the kitchen. Nathan tickled the pear, pulled the handle and stood back to let Harry and Ginny enter the kitchen. “This way,” Nathan said, passing them and leading them down the lengths of the long wooden tables to the end of the room. “Where are we going?” Ginny asked. “As you may know,” Nathan said, stopping in front of the fireplace, “there are several passageways leading from Hogwarts to various other locations.” He raised his eyebrows slightly as Ginny grinned and Harry flushed. “This one has been blocked for several years, but with the Headmaster’s permission, it has been reopened. I don’t think I need to tell you two, this is not a passageway to be shared with others.” Nathan gave them both a meaningful look and turned. Nathan grabbed the side of the small iron pot sitting in an alcove in the side wall of the fireplace. He turned it a half turn to the left. Harry and Ginny heard a click behind the bricks in the back wall of the fireplace. “Now, my one piece of advice for taking this passageway,” Nathan paused, his hand a centimeter from the bricks, “always check with the elves when they put the fire out.” Nathan glanced over his shoulder. One of the elves at the sink nodded his head. “Okay, right, let’s go.” With that, Nathan pushed against the third brick to the right of the corner, six bricks up from the floor, and stood back. The back wall of the fireplace pushed in, then slid out in a silent, smooth motion, revealing a set of stairs that led down to a darkened passageway. “Lumos!” Nathan said, holding his wand up and lighting their way. Harry and Ginny climbed down the steps and lit their wands. The smell of damp dirt surrounded them as they made their way through the passage. The passage was just tall enough for them to walk upright. “Watch your step,” Nathan cautioned, almost tripping over a root. “This part is new. The ground isn’t worn yet.” Holding her wand closer to the ground, Ginny followed Nathan, with Harry bringing up the rear, the smell of freshly dug dirt wafting up as her feet shuffled forward. “Professor Borgin?” she asked, stepping over a root. “Yes?” “Exactly why are we taking a tunnel to Anna’s home?” “Professor Dumbledore and myself thought it was the safest way to get you there on a regular basis. We considered the floo but it can be monitored. You can’t Apparate, for several reasons. Illegal Portkeys can be traced. I suggested we put the passageway off my office, turn one of my bookcases into a doorway. Dumbledore thought using an existing tunnel was just as effective,” Nathan stopped and looked up a set of stairs. “I would have liked the secret door behind my bookcase,” he commented wistfully. Climbing the steps, Nathan knocked on the ceiling of the passageway. A few seconds passed before a scraping could be heard from above. Nathan shielded his eyes as light and dirt flooded the passageway. “You know, most guests use the front door,” Anna teased as she peered down the hole. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Nathan answered, smiling at how his heart leapt at the sight of his wife. Anna chuckled then stepped back, motioning for the threesome to come in. “Welcome to my home, Ginny. Oh, and Harry, too. Excellent. Come on up.” Ginny followed Professor Borgin up the steps and climbed onto the floor. Straightening, she brushed the dirt from her cloak, jeans and jumper and looked around. Judging by the desk against the far wall, she determined this must be Anna’s office. She noticed the round woven rug rolled off to the side. Once Harry had climbed out of the passageway, Anna levitated the section of floorboard back into place and rolled the rug back to cover it. Nathan sighed. “What?” Anna asked, brushing off her hands on her trousers. “I’m envious,” Nathan said, looking longingly at the rug. Anna laughed. “I know. You wanted to have the office with the secret passageway.” “Yeah,” he answered forlornly before chuckling. “I’m sure the rumors of what was behind my bookcase would have only added to my aura of mystique with the students.” Ginny tried to contain the giggle that threatened to escape behind her hands. Nathan raised his eyebrows at her then Harry. Harry shrugged his shoulders. “No comment,” he said grinning. “Smart boy, that one,” Nathan said, motioning his head toward Harry and smiling at Anna. “Yes, I’m sure he is,” Anna said smiling at Harry, “your mother certainly was.” Turning to Ginny, Anna clasped her hands together in front of her and rocked back on her heels, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Now, Ginny, I understand you have taken a page out of the Anna Patterson Book on Apparating.” “Or I’m simply following in my brother Charlie’s footsteps,” Ginny commented wryly. “You know, I don’t think she has your problem,” Nathan offered. “She can actually find her way around Hogwarts.” Anna wrinkled her nose at Nathan. “I was only there a year. It’s not my fault. Ginny, what exactly has been happening?” “It’s not that she can’t Apparate,” Harry spoke up, placing his hand on Ginny’s shoulder, “it’s just she seems to have problems landing in the spot she planned to.” “Ginny,” Anna started again, “have you noticed —“ “You know,” Nathan said, rubbing his chin, “perhaps it was the wards around the cottage? Maybe that threw things off?” “No,” Harry shook is head, “I don’t think so. I mean, no one else had a problem.” “Good point,” Nathan said, nodding in agreement. “So, if it wasn’t that, I wonder what it was?” “Perhaps it was the teachers?” Anna interjected, smiling apologetically at Ginny. Placing one hand on her hip, Anna pointed with the other one toward the sitting room. “Why don’t you two go in there and Ginny and I will have a talk. We’re two bright witches. I’m sure between us, we can figure out what’s going on. And if we need your help, you’re right across the hall. Is that alright with you, Ginny?” Ginny nodded, grinning at Harry and Nathan who stood there looking slightly put out at being left out. “That’s fine with me,” Ginny said, placing her hand over Harry’s. “Harry, I see you have brought some books — no doubt, Nathan had something to do with that,” Anna commented, walking over to her office door. “I did not!” Nathan replied indignantly. “Honestly, it was my idea,” Harry said, giving Ginny’s hand a squeeze before following Anna. Nathan’s eye caught the gesture and he smiled. His mother had mentioned this. “Come on,” Anna said, standing to the side to let Harry and Nathan pass, “I’ll set you up with some tea. Nathan, did you bring anything to do?” “No. But I can be nosey and check out your bookshelves,” he answered over his shoulder, as he headed into the sitting room. I have a few other things you could check out, too, Anna thought as she followed, almost tripping over Harry who had stumbled on the hall rug. Catching herself, she looked at Harry’s flaming red face. “Did I say that out loud?” Anna said blushing. “Uh, no, I don’t think you did,” Harry said, surprised. Anna put her hands on her hips and titled her head to the side, studying Harry, a knowing light dawning in her eyes. “Well, there goes my credibility,” Anna sighed grinning. “Make yourself comfortable, Harry. I’ll be right back.” Harry entered the sitting room and grinned at Professor Borgin’s back. Nathan turned from the bookshelf, holding an open volume in his hand. "What?” he asked. Falling into a chair, Harry just laughed. +++++ Ginny circled Anna’s office, her hands clasped behind her back, her eyes studying the contents of the shelves, the mementos on the table, the instruments on the desk. She stood in front of Anna’s desk, watching the instruments sitting on it whiz and whirl, turn and twirl. Each one was highly polished and in good working condition. She turned, her eyes falling on the shelves that ran along one wall filled with rolls of parchment tied with ribbons sandwiched in between artifacts she could only assume had been brought out of the depths of the tombs Anna had worked in. Opposite the shelves, against the wall sat two high backed chairs separated by a copper top table. In the middle of the table was a vase filled with fall blooms. Beside the vase sat a frame holding a black and white photo. Curious, Ginny walked over to the table and bent over. The photo showed a young Nathan with his arm around Anna, both smiling broadly, waving at the person holding the camera. Ginny stood up straight and swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. This room was Anna’s sanctuary. Catarina had had a sanctuary, too. Blinking at the tears, Ginny turned to sit down in one of the chairs, her hands clasped between her knees, her eyes roaming the room. She sniffled. She so wished she could have told Catarina it worked. She had done it. She and Harry were bonded. “Ah!” Anna exclaimed, as cream sloshed out of the little pitcher she had clasped between two mugs of steaming tea in her hands. “Oh,” Ginny said, standing up and wiping at the corners of her eyes, “let me help. Here,” she said, taking a mug and the pitcher. “Thank you,” Anna said, wiping her hands on her trousers. “I know I should have used a tray but to be honest, they’re still packed.” “That’s alright,” Ginny said sitting down. Anna sat down opposite and reached for the cream, her eyes meeting Ginny’s. Noticing their redness, Anna looked back at her mug and took a deep breath. Deliberately, she poured cream into her mug and tried to think of something to say. Replacing the pitcher on the table, she settled on the obvious. “Are you alright, Ginny?” she asked quietly. From behind her mug, Ginny nodded. “It’s just funny,” she said smiling sadly, “your office reminded me of — of Catarina’s, Professor Borgin’s mum’s office. I was just thinking I would have liked to been able to tell her everything worked.” Anna smiled softly. “I’m sorry I never had a chance to meet her. From what Nathan told me about her, she was a fascinating woman. And I’m sure she was thrilled to have the opportunity to teach you.” “That’s what Professor Borgin said,” Ginny said, her eyes downcast. “You know, Ginny, if you truly want to honor her memory, you yourself will teach someone what she taught you one day, perhaps your own daughter.” Anna smiled at the blush creeping up Ginny’s neck and into her cheeks. Ginny’s eyes traveled to the picture on the table. “When was that taken?” she asked, nodding toward the photo. “Oh,” Anna said, setting her mug down and picking up the picture. Smiling, she ran her finger over the surface. “That was taken on our wedding day. We eloped and were married in a little chapel in New Zealand. January 6th. Beautiful day — sunny, warm. I was young — heavens, only nineteen, but I was convinced I was the luckiest bride alive.” “Didn’t you meet Professor Borgin in school?” Ginny asked, trying to place the timeline. “Yes, my one year at Hogwarts,” Anna said, gently placing the photo down on the tabletop once more. “I was a fourth year; it was Nathan’s seventh. At the end of the school year, my parents packed us up and off we went again. I lost track of Nathan for several years. My parents tagged along when my job at Gringotts sent me to South America. I worked with a group of wizards attempting to determine if a rash of diseases running through an excavation camp was Muggle or Magical. Nathan had been called in as an expert. Even at that young of an age, he was highly regarded in the field. I was a junior curse breaker which basically meant I fetched tea and crumpets for the Gringotts team. And one day, I fetched tea for Nathan,” Anna sighed, her eyes unfocused, lost in years past. Ginny smiled at Anna’s dreamy expression from behind her mug. Anna sighed. “Then, I listened to my parents. Ah well,” she said, patting her hands on her knees and looking at Ginny. “Now, though, I understand we need to teach you to Apparate properly.” “If you can,” Ginny sighed. “Ginny,” Anna said, leaning over conspiratorially, “I failed my Apparation test twice in two different languages in two different countries. And I’m willing to bet your sense of direction isn’t an issue.” “No, I can find my way around,” Ginny answered, her brow furrowed. “But, Anna, I do have a question.” “Hmm?” Anna said, sipping her tea. “How do you become a tomb raider if you keep getting lost?” Ginny asked, trying not to laugh. “I have two golden rules for that,” Anna said, setting her mug down. “First, always carry a map or create one as you go. Secondly, never volunteer to lead the expedition if you can help it.” “Good advice,” Ginny commented. “Especially for us directionally challenged folk,” Anna agreed smiling. “Alright, let’s get started. If we have time, I found a new hex the last time I was in Buenos Aries. It’s called a Skin Crawler. Feels like millions of insects have been let loose inside you and are trying to dig their way out of your skin. It was used by the ancients to torture prisoners. They would throw the accused in a room made of stone with a small opening, cast the hex then close the hole, leaving the hexed individual to - well, let’s just say, the first thirty seconds is like a bad rash and after that, it’s just not pleasant. I was thinking you might like to take a look at it, especially if you’re going into the field.” Ginny sat up eagerly and grinned widely. “I’d love that!” +++++ In the end, the only reason Anna could come up for Ginny’s troubles with Apparating was too much, too soon. And even then, Anna was not totally convinced that was why Ginny had struggled with it over the summer. But by the end of the afternoon watching Ginny pop from the office to the kitchen then back again, Anna could make two conclusions with the utmost certainty. The first: Ginny Weasley had found her focus and would have no problem with her exam. After seeing how quickly Ginny picked up the nuances to the Skin Crawling hex, Anna drew the second conclusion. She pitied anyone on the receiving end of a hex thrown by Ginny Weasley. Making sure Harry and Nathan were busy, Anna and Ginny had snuck into the back garden. Ginny targeted a poor unsuspecting garden gnome. Once hexed, the gnome had spun around in circles, trying to scratch off his irritated skin all at once, screaming in frustration. After thirty seconds, Ginny lifted the hex. Anna laughed as the gnome bolted from the garden. “Armed with that,” Ginny said, eyes sparkling, “I might actually volunteer to de-gnome my mum’s garden!” “It is effective, that’s for sure!” Anna agreed, laughing. “Now, I bet you’re hungry.” “Starving,” Ginny said, her hand resting on her grumbling stomach. “How about I make some sandwiches and feed the lot of us before I send you back to school? We can talk about the next steps over food.” “Sounds wonderful,” Ginny agreed. Heading back into the cottage, Anna ducked her head into the sitting room. Nathan was stretched out by the fireplace, a stack of books by the side of his chair. He was totally engrossed in the latest edition of, Hex Your Home: Proper Uses of Hexes in Securing Home Property. At the sight of him by her fire, Anna’s heart fluttered. If Harry hadn’t been sitting in the chair opposite, cursing under his breath over a Potions essay on why Glisteening Inky Cap was a better choice than Scaly Sawgill in hypnotic potions, she would have liked to — Anna suddenly stopped that train of thought as her eyes landed on Harry whose face had suddenly pinkened. As his head leaned forward further and his quill began to move faster, Anna looked back at Ginny. “Yes?” Ginny asked, coming to stand beside her in the doorway. “You didn’t hear anything?” Anna asked, her cheeks warming. “No. Did you say something?” “No, no,” Anna said, grinning, catching Harry’s eye and winking at him. “Go, sit. You’ve earned a break. I’ll call you all when it’s ready.” Humming, Anna headed across the hall to the kitchen. +++++ “So, Ginny,” Anna said, picking up her glass of pumpkin juice and taking a sip, “if it works with your schedule, I think we should try again next Sunday. If the wards are in place, you shouldn’t have any problem Apparating from here to, say, the Shrieking Shack. If you manage that, you’ll be just fine.” “Really?” Ginny said, smiling at Anna. “Brilliant!” Harry commented, squeezing Ginny’s hand. “I’ll make sure the wards are in place,” Nathan said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and leaning back in his chair, patting his stomach satisfactorily. “Seconds?” Anna asked, pushing the plate of tarts toward him. “Oh,” Nathan said, eyeing the lemon crème one, “no, I’d better not. Gives me a reason to come back.” “Well, as long as there’s a reason,” Anna replied dryly. “There are several,” Nathan said, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table. Holding his hands up, he counted them off. “First, your lemon crème tarts. I remember your profiteroles are to die for, with or without chocolate sauce, so that’s two. You never told me what you put in your stew that gives it that — that — well, whatever it is, that’s three. Four —“ Nathan was cut short by a napkin flung at his head. “They say a way to a man’s heart…” Anna chuckled before turning her attention to her guests. “Harry? Ginny? Anything else?” “No, thank you, it was lovely,” Ginny said. “Don’t tell Dobby, but I think your tarts would beat his, hands down,” Harry said, picking up another one. “See?” Nathan pointed out, grinning. Anna dropped another napkin over his head. “Tea?” Anna asked, scooting out the other side. With three nods, Anna set about making tea. “Nathan?” Harry asked, stumbling slightly over the name. It was just odd calling a professor by his first name. “Hmm?” Nathan asked, removing the napkin from his head. “You said there was a meeting with Voldemort this morning?” Anna dropped the tea canister on the cupboard, sending loose tea leaves spilling forth. “Oh, sorry, here,” Anna said, waving her wand over the mess. “I’m getting better with the name, really I am,” she said as the canister righted itself and filled back up. “Yes,” Nathan said, turning back to the table. While the water heated, he shared his knowledge of what had happened with Harry and Ginny that morning in the Dark Lord’s study. “If I understand this correctly,” Ginny said, taking a steaming mug from Anna, “you are going to give this potion to Voldemort?” Nathan sighed. “I don’t want to give him anything. But I have been outvoted. Because of the registration, he will find out you bonded. Professor Snape telling him this morning about the potion made him think your bonding was a good idea — almost as if it was his idea. He now believes this potion gives him something he wants and it requires your bonded blood to be in it.” “Why can’t you simply give him another potion?” Ginny asked. “Because your blood, Ginny, will bond with Harry’s blood in Voldemort. Your blood must be in it. Voldemort will know if your blood isn’t in the potion. He would feel it the minute it went into his system. With bonded blood, he will believe it is working until, well, it doesn’t. The goal is to render him incapacitated.” “Is there any way to ensure it will work?” Anna asked quietly. “Professor Snape is working on that,” Nathan replied, noticing the grimace cross Harry’s face. “In the meantime, I’m doing what I can to find other options. I’ve been pouring over my mother’s journal trying to determine if there is anything in there that will help us out…” Nathan’s voice trailed off as his eyes settled on Ginny. “Ginny,” he said, leaning forward, “would you take a look at her journal? You might be able to find something in there I’m missing. She might have said something to you in your training that I wouldn’t know.” Surprise was soon replaced by pride as Ginny nodded. “I would be very happy to, but I don’t know what I might know that you don’t.” “Well, I’m thinking,” Nathan said, tapping his fingers on the table, “between what you’ve been reading and what my mother taught you, you might see something in there I don’t. I’ll get you a copy when we get back to the castle.” Nathan glanced at his watch. “Speaking of Hogwarts, we should get going.” “Yes, you should,” Anna said, scooting out and carrying her mug and plate to the sink. “No, no, leave those,” Anna waved her hands at Harry and Ginny as they carried their dishes to the sink. “Nathan, I’ll get those,” she said, taking the plate from his hands and setting it to the side on the counter. Leaning down, Nathan used her close proximity as an excuse to steal a kiss from her lips. “Nathan! I thought you didn’t like kissing in front of students!” “What students?” Nathan asked innocently. Anna peeked around him and noticed the kitchen was empty. “What did you do to them?” she asked suspiciously. “I told Harry I’d give Gryffindor twenty points if he and Ginny would go find something to do for ten minutes.” “Nathan!” Anna admonished, laughing, “You didn’t!” “No, you’re right, I didn’t,” Nathan said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. “It was only ten, but I was willing to go up to twenty if I had to.” “And to think, I thought I was worth at least fifty,” Anna murmured against his lips as she lost herself in his embrace. +++++ “Hey — oh!” Ginny exclaimed several days later as the parchment she was marking notes on slid out from under her nose to be replaced by a bowl of something that smelled so delightful her stomach rumbled in response. Looking up, she smiled gratefully at Harry who sat down next to her at the table in the common room. “Thanks!” “You weren’t at dinner,” Harry shrugged, smiling back. “Here,” he said placing a spoon next to the bowl, along with a hard roll. “How’d you get this up here?” Ginny asked, taking a bite. “This badge isn’t just for looks,” he said, tapping his chest where his Head Boy patch was sewn. “Lucky me,” Ginny said gratefully, picking up the roll and tearing off a bit to soak up the stew. “Lucky you what?” Ron said, dropping his bag on the table with a thump. “It’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” Harry said, leaning back, putting his arm around Ginny and patting his chest with his free hand. “She has me.” Ron turned positively green. Ginny inhaled crumbs as she started laughing, sending herself into a fit of coughing instead. “Ginny, are you alright?” Hermione asked, her eyes traveling over Harry’s perturbed expression. Ginny gulped for air, nodding. Weakly smiling, she swatted Harry in the stomach. “Don’t make me laugh while I’m eating!” “It wasn’t supposed to make you laugh,” Harry grumbled. “No, it wasn’t you,” Ginny said, reaching out for her glass of water. “You simply stated a fact. It was Ron’s expression that did it for me,” she said, taking a swallow. “Ah,” Harry said, grinning at Ron. “See.” “I’m going to be sick,” Ron said, plopping down in a chair. Hermione rolled her eyes at her boyfriend and sat down in the chair next to him. “So, Ginny, why weren’t you at dinner?” she asked curiously peering over the books spread in front of her friend. Pushing her half empty bowl aside, Ginny pulled her notes back in front of her. “Well, I’ve been looking at Catarina’s notebook on Obliteration Charms and a few of the texts Professor Borgin gave me to read about the healing part of the bond.” “How’s that going?” Hermione asked, pulling one of the books toward her. “Slow,” Ginny said. “It’s rather dry material to be honest.” “But I’m sure it’s fascinating,” Hermione said, reluctantly tearing herself away from a paragraph that had drawn her in. “Right,” Ginny said, flashing a grin at Harry. “Have you found anything?” Ron asked. “I don’t know,” Ginny sighed. “So far, I’ve got loads of notes but just can’t seem to put them together.” “Do you need help?” Hermione asked eagerly. “Sure,” Ginny said, pushing several books into Hermione’s open hands. “Knock yourself out.” Hermione slid one of the books in front of Ron. “Hey! What’s this for?” Ron exclaimed indignantly as he found himself looking down on a copy of Blood Bonds Made, Blood Bonds Broken: A Study. “Harry’s the one bonded, not me. Why doesn’t he get one?” “Do I have to cover this again?” Harry grinned cheekily, patting his puffed out chest. “Nope,” Ginny said, slapping Catarina’s journal over Harry’s hand. “You’re you. You’re bonded. You read,” she said, looking at him through her eyelashes. “Your wish is my command,” Harry replied gallantly, taking the book from his chest. Picking up Ginny’s hand, he kissed the back of it. “Ronald!” Hermione admonished, not even looking up from her page. Glaring at anything but Harry and Ginny, Ron clamped his mouth shut. +++++ “That doesn’t look like it has anything to do with Obliteration Charms,” Harry commented, sitting down next to Ginny on the overstuffed couch in front of the fire in the Common room a week later. “You’re right,” Ginny said, yawning widely. “Oh, pardon me. I had to take a break and read something that wasn’t quite so technical. After a while, the thoughts, the words — they all blend together and start swimming in front of my eyes.” Harry snorted into her hair. “That’s reassuring, Gin.” Ginny giggled. “Yeah, I know.” “So what were you reading?” “A book Anna lent me this past weekend.” “More hexes?” Harry asked, looking over her head to get a glimpse at the title. “Yeah,” Ginny said, turning it so he could see. “Domesticus Diraorum?” Harry read skeptically. “This is light reading?” “Read the translation underneath,” Ginny said. “Family Curses!” Harry read, feigning shock. “Your family’s cursed? Oh, Gin, I wish you had told me before we started going out. That puts a whole new twist on things.” “Funny, Potter,” Ginny commented dryly. “No, past the red hair, we Weasleys are in the clear. This book,” she said tapping the cover and smiling slyly up at Harry, “is a ‘how to guide’ for placing curses or hexes on family members. The blood ties of family members make certain curses react differently depending on how they are performed.” “React differently?” Harry asked, his eyes watching Ginny’s fingers spread out on his chest. “According to the book, if done right, my brothers don’t stand a chance,” she purred. Harry’s breath caught in the back of this throat at the sound. He liked that sound. “Just out of curiosity, what does it mean for blood bonds?” Harry asked, brushing Ginny’s hair to the side and leaning down to place soft kisses on the exposed skin. “Too much love, there,” Ginny sighed, as the shivers ran up and down her body. Turning, she nudged Harry’s legs onto the couch and stretched along side him, her legs intertwining with his, her hands in his hair, her breathing erratic, warm and soft on Harry’s skin as his kisses continued. “The hexes wouldn’t work,” she breathed against Harry’s lips as they found hers. As the sensations washed over her, Ginny lost herself in the light behind her eyes. She drowned willingly in the waves of love cascading over her, swallowing her up and sweeping her away. The ribbons behind her eyes shimmered brilliantly, their colors deepening as they wove stronger and deeper with Harry’s. Ginny’s eyes flew open. She pulled away from Harry, scrambling up into a sitting position, her face pale, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes staring wildly at Harry who was looking horribly confused. “Gin?” Harry asked, clearing his throat, trying to gain control of his breathing. “What happened? What’s wrong?” Ginny tore her gaze from Harry’s face and stood up abruptly. Looking down at her feet, she sat right back down and grabbed her book bag. “Ginny!” Harry demanded, annoyed and put out by the sudden change in direction. “Harry! I think I figured something out!” she exclaimed, digging in her bag and triumphantly pulling out Catarina’s journal. “Please tell me you weren’t thinking about that when I was kissing you,” Harry grumbled. “No, I wasn’t. Honest!” Ginny said excitedly. “Really! When I was kissing you, I kept seeing the bond — our bond — and how it was stronger and growing stronger and how it tied us to each other and with every kiss and every touch and every moment I’m with you how it simply ties me to you more and more and,” Ginny paused to draw a deep breath and realized Harry was still looking rather disgruntled. “Tom found her,” Ginny said, flipping pages in the journal. “She helped him. She didn’t want to, but she did, but in the end, she didn’t. Or at least I don’t think she did.” “Ginny, I’m lost,” Harry said, running his hands through his hair. “Here, we need to find Professor Borgin. I’ll explain then. It might be nothing, but if it’s something, it might really be something!” Ginny said, standing up, grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him toward the portrait hole. “Hang on,” Harry said, pulling his hand away. “I’ll be right back.” Harry disappeared up the stairs to his dormitory, returning moments later with his Invisibility Cloak draped over one arm and the Marauder’s Map in the other. “Good thinking. Alright, let’s go,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. “Wait, what if he’s in his pajamas? We can’t knock on his door if he’s in his pajamas!” Harry looked down at the map and chuckled. “What?” Ginny asked, following his gaze. “I don’t picture Professor Borgin nicking food from the kitchens in his pajamas,” Harry said grinning. Two small dots stood side by side in the Hogwarts kitchens, one labeled N. Borgin, the other labeled A. Borgin. “Well,” Ginny said, smiling widely. “I’m guessing I’m not the only one using that passageway in Anna’s office. Come on, let’s go.” Harry and Ginny made their way quietly through the deserted corridors, ducking underneath the invisibility cloak on the second floor to avoid Peeves who was floating nonchalantly above them, arms full of what looked like Veiled Polypore Spores from the greenhouses. “What’s he got?” Harry whispered. “We’ll ask Neville later,” Ginny whispered back. “He’s gone, let’s go.” Quietly, they made their way down the Grand Staircase, through the door off to the right, and down the corridor. Ginny reached out and tickled the pear which transformed into the door handle. With a pull, the picture of the fruit bowl swung open. All eyes turned toward them as they entered the kitchens. Nathan and Anna, who were seated at one of the long tables, pulled apart from each other. Harry grinned to see Nathan’s face go slightly pink. The house elves waited expectantly by the fireplace, ready to happily fulfill any wish or desire of the newest visitors. Anna smiled widely and jabbed Nathan in the ribs. “See,” she said, winking at Ginny, “I told you it was customary to bring your best girl to the kitchens for a romantic midnight snack.” “Yes, but I don’t think most dates start by sneaking into the castle in the first place,” Nathan said dryly. “Good evening, Harry. Ginny. Is everything alright?” Ginny clasped her hands in front of her and stepped up to the table across from Anna and Nathan. “Professor Borgin, Anna, I’m really sorry to bother you, but I was kissing Harry and I think I figured out what your mother did to Tom,” Ginny explained in a rush. Amused, Nathan glanced at Harry who was looking somewhat disgruntled by Ginny’s explanation. “Harry, you’re going to have to work on that,” he teased. “Oh!” Ginny flushed, as Harry rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t quite like that. Alright, yes it was, but when I was kissing Harry I was dazzled by the colors and the ribbons and got to thinking about the bond and —“ Anna chuckled as Harry’s expression brightened and motioned to the bench across from them. “Have a seat. Want some hot chocolate? Biscuit?” she asked, pushing a plate filled with cut out sugar biscuits toward them. Harry sat, a mug of steaming goodness appearing in front of him. Ginny stayed standing, her hands clasped. She smiled distractedly at the house elf who placed a mug for her beside Harry’s and patted the bench next to him. “Thanks,” Ginny said, shaking her head, “but I’m too jumpy to sit.” The house elf nodded and backed away as Ginny began to pace along the table, the fire in the giant fireplace flickering warmly, giving the kitchen a soft, cozy glow. Nathan, Anna and Harry’s eyes followed Ginny as she wore a path on the floor. “So, Ginny, taking care to leave out any unnecessary snogging details, why are you here?” Nathan asked. Ginny stopped pacing, opened her mouth and closed it again. Her cheeks warmed as doubt crept into her thoughts. She had been so sure. Now it just seemed foolish and rash. Her uncertain glance met Harry’s. Harry reached out and touched his fingers to the tips of hers. Ginny relaxed, a sense of calmness permeating up from Harry’s hand. Taking a deep breath, she resumed pacing, her hands waving as she spoke. “So, our bond is like a woven fabric, right? Well, Harry’s and my bond keeps getting stronger. I can see it every time I close my eyes. I can feel it in me,” she said emphatically, her palm over her heart. “If I’m to help Harry, the first thing I need to do is make that bond as strong as possible - to make it as unbreakable as I possibly can. If something were to happen to that bond, it would be excruciating. Those ties are so deep within me - within us - that if something were to damage or break that bond, it would be like ripping out my insides.” Harry watched Ginny pace up and down, talking about this magic they shared, his heart swelling. He had no words to express how much he loved her. “Now, I can’t physically bond with Vol — Voldemort in a ceremony like I did with Harry. But it’s my understanding that should my blood flow within Tom, it’s as good as bonding with him because I’ve bonded with Harry. I know,” Ginny said, glancing at Harry who was rubbing his eyes as he tried to follow, “I’m going around in circles. Look, Catarina bonded with Tom’s blood. Tom’s blood is what carried their bond and what formed the ribbons that tied them to each other. “The ribbons of the bond are our blood. Our blood is physical. It is tangible. It is matter. It isn’t essence. It’s not our being. It’s not who we are. Who we are is tied up in love — in this,” Ginny said, knocking on her heart. “Professor Borgin,” she said, her eyes pleading for understanding, “when Tom came to Catarina after he did that to Harry,” Ginny’s voice cracked slightly as she pointed to Harry’s forehead, “he wasn’t whole. He wasn’t Tom. The person Catarina bonded to wasn’t there any more, only part of him was. “In a bond based on more than simply the pull,” Ginny said, dropping to the bench beside Harry, exhausted, “a Mediator would do more - so much more. The part which you cannot touch, the part in here,” Ginny hit her chest once more, “I would do whatever it took to heal that,” she said, looking deep into Harry’s eyes. “Catarina didn’t. She didn’t heal that part,” Ginny continued, meeting Nathan’s gaze. “She couldn’t, because it didn’t exist between them. I think your mother did what she had to do to survive. She healed Tom’s blood by binding what was left of Tom to a physical form because that is all she was required to do by her bond, just the physical part.” she finished quietly, deflating into Harry. Silence settled over the kitchen table as the words sunk in, twisting and turning, forming their own woven fabric. Nathan’s mind raced as he put the pieces together. Slowly, he deliberately set his mug on the table. He rubbed his palms on the legs of his trousers and stood up. It was his turn to pace. “When my mother died,” Nathan contemplated, his eyes on his shoes as they walked a length of bench, turned, and walked back, “she broke the bond to his blood. His blood is physical. His blood is what ties him to his physical form,” Nathan swallowed and met Harry and Ginny’s eyes. “My mother protected those ties with her bond. He is no longer protected by her. He is vulnerable.” “But it’s not enough,” Anna said, shaking her head. “It’s the physical, but not the essence. It’s not what flows in the blood. That is what makes us who we are.” “But it’s a start,” Nathan said, nodding. “If the bond is gone, there is no blood protection. If we can determine a way to separate the physical from the, well, spiritual…” Nathan’s eyes flashed wide awake, with determination. “We need to go see the Headmaster.” ++++++ “Nathan, this is sketchy at best,” Albus Dumbldore said, sitting down behind his desk, pulling the tie of his robe tight. “But it makes sense,” Nathan said, pounding his fist on the Headmaster’s desk. “The bond is gone. There is no blood protection. If we can separate the physical from the spirit, we can destroy him, I know it.” “Nathan, you cannot separate a physical form from a spiritual one,” Dumbeldore interrupted. “Without the spiritual form, the physical form is just an empty shell…” the headmaster said slowly, his brow furrowing as the thoughts came together. “Let me try,” Nathan pleaded. “Give us some time,” Nathan said, motioning at Anna, Harry and Ginny who stood behind him. “We can figure this out. Albus,” Nathan said, placing his hands palm down on the Headmaster’s desk and leaning forward. “This is our other option. The Order doesn’t have to use the blood. We don’t have to run the risk of the potion.” Dumbledore tented his hands, touching his fingertips to his nose, contemplating Nathan’s argument. “That is a decision for the Order to make, Nathan.” “No, sir, I think it’s a decision for us to make,” Harry spoke, stepping forward. “It is our blood. It is Ginny’s and my bond. It is our decision.” Dumbledore met Harry’s gaze and inhaled, his kerchief bobbing as his head moved. “Yes, I suppose you are right,” Dumbledore replied, nodding. “I will inform The Order. We will need to think of what to tell Tom.” “Thank you, sir,” Nathan said, clapping his hands together. “Thank you,” he repeated as he turned to face Harry and Ginny. “Alright, off to bed. We will talk in the morning.” Albus Dumbledore watched the foursome leave, his eyes clouded with mixed emotions. Stealing himself against his heart, Albus waved his hand and a fire appeared in his fireplace. “Severus.” +++++++ Lu cius threw back his head, relishing the burning sensation of the hundred year old Single Malt Devil Snare scotch as it coursed down his throat. He closed his eyes, his insides warming from the alcohol, his outsides from the fire burning in front of him. Lucius’ hands pressed against the glass that was now empty, the cut crystal imprinting his skin. His nostrils flared. His knuckles turned white. His breathing became erratic. With a sudden jerk, Malfoy threw his arm back and then flung it forward, releasing the tumbler. He opened his eyes to watch the crystal shatter, the fire spitting as the alcohol hit the wood. That’s what he wanted to do to Borgin. Borgin. Malfoy slammed his fist down on the table next to him. He had had enough of that two sided pure blood excuse of a wizard. And now, it wasn’t only Borgin. It was that excuse of a Death Eater Potions Master Snape, too. Taking his place. Taking his rightful place as the Dark Lord’s most trusted advisor. How dare they. How dare they suggest something to the Dark Lord without telling him first? He had felt like an idiot when Voldemort had told him. And Voldemort had been happy about it. Well, he knew their dirty little secrets. He could easily have them killed for what they were doing. They weren’t true. They weren’t loyal. They weren’t the kind of servants the Dark Lord deserved. No, Lord Voldemort deserved someone who could deliver to him the one thing standing in his way. And he, Lucius Malfoy, could do that. He would do that. +++++ A/N — To wvchemteach & Anya — my many thanks for your patience, ideas and thoughts. |
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