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SIYE Time:13:01 on 28th March 2024
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Blood of the Heart
By kjpzak

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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: 189767; Chapter Total: 6616







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Disclaimer — I do not own or profit monetarily from Harry Potter.




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It had been drizzling for a week, leaving everyone feeling a little damp and moldy around the edges. Her eyes following a drop of rain sliding down the window above her desk, Vivian Blevins chewed on the end of her quill, wondering if the spring rain had caused her mind to become waterlogged. Frustrated, she traded her quill for her tea cup and took a sip. She had been attempting to jot a simple note for the past hour and somehow the words were just not flowing.


“Get over it, Viv,” she scolded herself. “It’s Augusta Longbottom. She can’t be all that bad. Neville turned out fine.”


Vivian and Milton did not run in the same social circle as the Longbottoms. However, Milton was familiar with the whispered stories regarding Frank and Alice Longbottom having worked at the Ministry for so many years. And now, they both had heard of Augusta. After their trip to Hogwarts, Milton had done a little research into the Longbottom family. Vivian had been somewhat appalled by the invasion of privacy.


“Milton! That’s just plain rude!”


“No, it’s not. If this boy loves our daughter and our daughter loves him, we deserve to know as much as we can about him.”


“You didn’t do background checks on any of the boys Amanda or Sara brought home!”


“I don’t worry about Amanda and Sara. They can handle themselves. Joanna, I worry about.”


“Why?” Vivian asked, spearing Milton with her gaze over the top of her glasses.


“We’re in the middle of a war, no matter what Fudge claims. We can’t be too careful. We deserve to know that Joanna is in good hands.”


“She is in good hands,” Vivian assured him.


Milton met his wife’s eyes across his desk and sighed. Vivian smiled understandingly at her husband. She knew exactly why he was going to the extremes.


“He’s taking her away, isn’t he?” she said softly.


Milton dropped his eyes to the paperwork scattered over his desk. Vivian walked around to stand behind his chair. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he nodded slowly. Vivian squeezed and placed a soft kiss on the top of her husband’s head.


“I love you, Milton,” she said.


“I love you, too, Viv,” he replied, covering his wife’s hand with his own. Comfortable silence that comes from knowing your spouse better than you know yourself surrounded them for a moment, until Milton looked up over his shoulder, an eager glint in his eye. “Want to know what I found out?”


Vivian rolled her eyes and stood up.


“Come on,” Milton begged, “you know you want to. She’s your baby, too, Viv.”



Setting her tea cup down, Vivian picked up her quill again and licked her lips. How she wished she had walked out of her husband’s study without giving in to the urge to protect her daughter. Now, with the mental image of Neville’s grandmother in her mind, she was stuck. What did you say in a note to a woman like that? “We love Neville. Please do not brow beat our daughter?” Vivian grimaced. Good manners were dictating she write this, but she was pretty sure a request like that would not go over very well, especially in an introduction note. With determination, she held her quill above the parchment and prayed she would make a good impression.



+++++


The room was stuffy. It hadn’t seemed stuffy when they had entered it an hour ago. But now, the air was thick and hot and heavy, pressing in on Harry and Ginny as they knelt, eyes closed, hands joined, attempting to send magic through their bond. As if there isn’t enough pressure about this whole thing to begin with, Harry thought wryly, thankful Ginny had remembered to put a cushioning charm on the floor.


He had met Ginny in the Room of Requirement after dinner that evening to continue their training. Being in between testing years, Ginny’s workload was not quite as massive as Harry’s, so she had taken the lead role in working with Bill, Anna and Nathan on determining what needed to be done. They had yet to tell Dumbledore or the Order anything, wanting to fine tune the spell and make it as fool proof as possible before they put it out there. Harry, in turn, had been doing his best to keep ahead of his revising in hopes of being able to help out, spending hours in the library buried beneath assignments and essays. When Ginny had suggested he take a break so they could work on their training that evening, Harry had gladly set aside his books for a change of pace.


NEWTs weren’t the only cause of stress within the castle walls. As spring progressed, it was hard to pinpoint exactly what was causing greater amounts of turmoil, the approaching testing or the news of current events. Daily reports of Death Eater attacks were splashed across the front page of The Daily Prophet. Even if a student did not subscribe or have access to the paper, it was hard to miss the growing number of empty seats at the House tables. Be it due to a death in the family or a doubting of the safety of Hogwarts itself, students were leaving, some by choice, others under pressure from their families.


While sympathetic to the stress the war put on the students, the teachers within Hogwarts marched on, doling out what some believed to be almost unbearable workloads. A few students had gone as far as claiming it was unfair to continue to be put under so much pressure when their fellow classmates were leaving to go home. When this was voiced in her class, Professor McGonagall threw up her hands in mock defeat, exclaiming the faculty had been found out and yes, indeed, the amount of homework was purely a ruse to keep the students’ minds off of current events. When she commented sarcastically that she would be sure to let Professor Dumbledore know his great scheme was failing, a hopeful fifth year Hufflepuff had said, “Really?” and promptly gained a scathing look from the Transfiguration professor and lost five points for her house.


His thoughts returning to the task at hand, Harry audibly sighed. “Is it working?” he asked, peeking at Ginny.


Ginny opened her eyes and shot Harry an exasperated expression. “Harry, if you have to ask, it’s not working,” she replied frustrated.


“I’m sorry-“


“No, Harry, it’s not you,” Ginny said, pushing herself off the floor. Folded over in half, she reached for her toes, stretching out her stiff leg muscles. “These things take time.”


“Why is it not working? Is it something I’m not doing?” Harry asked, groaning as he straightened his legs. “I’ve sent magic into the bond before.”


“No, it’s not you,” Ginny repeated. “Yes, you’ve sent magic into the bond, but you’ve never sent it into me. It’s got to go beyond the bond. And that is obviously going to be harder than expected.”


“But you’ve sent magic into me when we bonded —“


“Yeah, Harry, and it took several months of training to do it,” Ginny snapped as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. She exhaled as she felt Harry’s hands on her shoulders, massaging the knots of tension that had formed on either side of her neck. She closed her eyes and felt her muscles relax. “It isn’t you,” she said quietly, letting her chin fall to her chest to give Harry better access.


“Thanks for saying that,” he said, placing a soft kiss on the exposed bare skin.


“No, really, it isn’t,” Ginny said, turning around and slipping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek into his shoulder. “You shouldn’t expect to get this overnight. It takes work.”


Harry buried his nose in Ginny’s hair, inhaling her flowery scent. A picture of her, exhausted and barely awake, leaning against him on Catarina’s porch flashed through his mind. Ginny made it look so easy. He had forgotten how much effort she had put into it before she got to that point. Harry tightened his hold on her.


“So, what do we do now?” he asked into her shoulder.


“Keep at it,” Ginny mumbled


“Gin, what happens when it does work?” Harry asked, propping his chin on the top of her head.


“What do you mean?”


“Well, you said when we bonded, there was this rush of power as magic blended together and I wasn’t even doing anything. What will happen when I succeed in pushing this magic into you?” He felt Ginny go still in his arms. He leaned back and looked down at her. “Gin?”


“Professor Borgin and I are working on that.”


Harry stepped back from her. “What does that mean, Ginny?”


Ginny swallowed. “It means I’m working on it, Harry.”


“You’re afraid I’ll over power you.”


“No, Harry, no —“


“Why didn’t you say something?” Harry asked, his expression a mix of worry and hurt.


“Because you can’t hold back, Harry,” Ginny explained. “If this is going to work, you have to send as much power as you have into me. You can’t worry about if you’re going to hurt me. That’s my job. Besides, the same amount of power that goes into me, is going to go back out through you.”


“I know that,” Harry said quietly. “I guess I just hadn’t put it all together.”


“Don’t worry about me, Harry,” Ginny said, “I’ll be fine.”


Harry shook his head in wonder at Ginny. “You’re amazing.”


Ginny snorted. “No, I’ve just had more practice. How about we call it a night on this? I’ve got some other work I need to do.”


Harry leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips. “You’re the boss.”


Ginny winked. “And don’t you go forgetting that.”


Ginny and Harry settled themselves at one of the tables. Ginny heaved her book bag onto the surface and pulled several texts out of it. Harry did the same, spreading out a half finished essay for Charms. He glanced at the books Ginny had placed over to the side. Ginny pursed her lips to keep from grinning as Harry’s hand snaked out and pulled one the books Anna had lent her toward him. She wasn’t going to stop him. She was glad he was thinking of something else besides the spell. It was of the utmost importance that Harry did not hold back. She needed every bit of power Harry had to make this work.


She watched as Harry opened the book. He had been doing this for several months now, nicking books from her book bag. Ginny had overheard Hermione scolding him on several occasions for becoming engrossed in them when he should have been studying for NEWTs. Because NEWTs were approaching, Ginny had felt a bit guilty when Harry had tagged along with her when she met with Anna instead of spending the time studying. It only took about two sessions before she realized Harry was listening just as attentively to Anna’s stories as she was, and he needed the break as much as she did. Then, showing up in crumpled robes at breakfast last week, Ron had sourly complained that someone had hexed his trunk to growl and snap at him when he went near it. Ron wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure it had even grown fangs. Ginny had cast a knowing look at Harry who had innocently looked back at her and grinned. Anna had described encountering a similar hex in a tomb to them several days prior.


Harry glanced up at Ginny. She smiled at him and returned to her work.


++++



New Interim Minister of Magic Announced




In a formal announcement yesterday evening, Percy Weasley, a Ministry spokesperson, announced Cornelius Fudge has stepped down as the Minister of Magic. The spokesperson said the Ministry had been under growing pressure due to the recent attacks in several Muggle neighborhoods (Regent’s Park, Mayfair) resulting in severe injuries to several non-magical families.


Due to the sudden disappearance of Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Milton Blevins has stepped up to temporarily fill the position. The former head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation told The Daily Prophet, “I am deeply concerned about Madam Bones and will put the resources necessary toward determining her whereabouts. I am also planning on performing a complete review of the Ministry’s efforts to keep both magical and Muggle folk safe. It is time we step up and make some changes.”


Minister Blevins has several projects to wrap up over the course of the next few days before taking on the responsibilities of his new interim position. Because his office will be in flux, he has asked that all correspondence be directed to his new assistant, Percy Weasley, who will see that he obtains it in a proper fashion.






“Well, there you go,” Ron commented as Hermione finished reading the article during breakfast. “It’s about time!”


“Yes, it is,” Hermione said, folding her copy of the paper and tucking it under her plate. “I just wonder what Joanna thinks of all of this,” she mused.


“You can ask her in a minute,” Ginny said, climbing over the bench to sit next to Hermione. “She’s right behind me — or she was,” Ginny said, looking over her shoulder. “Oh, looks like McGonagall caught her. What did you want to ask her?”


“Her father is the new Minister of Magic,” Hermione said, pushing her copy of the morning paper toward Ginny.


“Interim Minister of Magic,” Joanna corrected Hermione as she sat down. “My father wrote me that it is a temporary gig. He’s decided he really doesn’t want the job full time.”


“Really?” Hermione said surprised. “Why not?”


“Takes away time from his family,” Joanna replied, pulling a letter from her pocket and opening it. “According to the owl he sent me, this war has taught him that ‘family is precious and I want to spend my time with you and not with my co-workers — no offense intended to them, of course.’ “


“So does that mean you have to go home?” Ginny asked confused.


“Well, no,” Joanna paused, picking up a toast triangle and beginning to nibble, “their decision to leave me here still stands. Besides, they decided it wouldn’t look right for the Minister of Magic to pull his daughter out of Hogwarts because he felt it unsafe. Talk about inciting major panic.”


“Good point,” Hermione conceded.


“Unfortunately, in the meantime, Professor McGonagall said The Daily Prophet is coming by to interview me for an article on my family for the paper,” Joanna said glumly.


“Why’s that bad?” Ron asked, standing up in preparation to head to class.


Joanna sighed. “Impromptu speaking is not my specialty, especially when I’m nervous.”


“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Hermione assured her.


“We can work on some answers before hand, if you like,” Ginny offered. “I’m sure they’ll ask you some of the standard type questions, you know, like, ‘Why will your father make a good Minister of Magic?’ and ‘Tell us about a favorite childhood memory’,” Ginny’s voice trailed off as Joanna pulled out a quill and parchment and started writing answers.


Joanna looked up as Ginny stopped and waved her hand for her to continue. “Keep them coming, Ginny,” she said, jotting notes down.


“Yes, ma’am,” Ginny giggled. “You’ll be just fine, Joanna.”


“That’s not a question.”


“Right…okay…”



++++


“Pa rdon me, coming through. Sorry, there Elizabeth,” Nathan said, stopping briefly to scoop up a book he had just knocked out of the jostled second year student’s hands. Patting her on the shoulder, Nathan charged off again in the direction of the Room of Requirement. Classes began in less than a minute and he had left his notes behind. Rounding the corner on the seventh floor, he skidded to a stop, his insides rolling as he saw a familiar figure pacing in front of the statue of Barnabas the Balmy. If he had been a split second quicker, Nathan would have whipped around and lectured without them. Unfortunately, as he whirled away, Snape saw him.


“Borgin, I need to talk to you.”


Nathan turned around, unable to wipe the look of pure disgust off his face. “We haven’t had anything to say to each other in months, Severus,” he snarled.


“He’s getting stronger.”


“Of course he’s getting stronger,” Nathan snapped. “That damn potion you gave him had all the building blocks to start him on the road to recovery. On top of that, the Muggles have it right, you know. The mind is a powerful tool when it comes to healing. Ginny and Harry’s bond is getting stronger every day and he knows that. He’s living off that knowledge and it’s making him strong.”


“What are you doing to fix it?” Snape pressed.


At Snape’s words, Nathan felt something click in his brain and all rational thought stopped flowing. In one fluid movement, he slammed Snape against the cold stone wall, his right hand pining Snape’s wand arm against the stone wall, his left forearm pressing against the Potions Master’s windpipe cutting off his air supply. Nathan increased the pressure, a sick enjoyment flooding his body as he watched Snape gasp, choke and turn a ghastly shade of pale gray.


“What am I doing to fix it?” Nathan rasped unbelievingly. Snape’s mouth moved helplessly as Nathan’s hot breath washed over him. “What am I doing to fix the problem you created?” Nathan repeated, his voice a deep, ragged whisper.


Nathan moved his forearm and grabbed a fistful of Snape’s robes instead. With a heave, Nathan threw Snape into the opposite wall. He took a step forward, his anger feeding his drive to cause this pitiful excuse of a wizard as much pain as he possibly could. He drew back his fist and Snape whimpered. Nathan stopped, his brain beginning to function again on a higher level. He swallowed hard and fought to control his breathing. He straightened his shoulders and stepped back.


“What I am doing to fix it,” he breathed, “is the last thing I would ever tell you.”


With that, Nathan turned on his heel and left.


++++



These days, a seat in the library was hard to find, as fifth and seventh year students competed for coveted table space on which to work, which is why several harried fifth years were eyeing Harry with barely disguised fury as he sat at a window table staring off into space. Couldn’t he stare off into space in his own common room and give up the table?


Hermione grinned inwardly at the looks as she sat down opposite Harry, who did not even register he had company.


“Harry?” Hermione said, waving her hand in front of his face. “Hello, Harry?”


Harry jerked, sending his Potions essay to the floor. “Sorry, Hermione, I was a little lost there.”


“You don’t say,” Hermione commented wryly, fishing for her Ancient Runes text in her book bag. “You keep that up and I’m pretty sure you’ll be bound, kidnapped and left as food for the Thestrals in the Forbidden Forest.”


“Huh?”


Hermione motioned with her head to the Ravenclaw fifth years who had given up finding a seat and settled down on the cold store floor, leaning against the bookshelves.


Harry shrugged at the fifth years and fished for his essay under the table. Straightening up, Harry picked up his quill and poised it over the parchment to start writing again. Five minutes and no words later, Hermione cleared her throat.


“Harry, you’re doing it again.”


Harry sighed and let go of his quill. Dropping his forehead into his hands, Harry ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Hermione leaned forward in concern.


“Harry, are you alright?”


“Yeah,” Harry said unconvincingly, lifting his head, and blinking his tired eyes.


“You know, Harry, I know you’re dealing with a lot right now, and this is going to sound extremely odd coming from me, but do you need a break?”


“No — yes — no — damn, I don’t know,” Harry swore. “Hermione, what do you want to do with your life?”


Hermione sat back startled. “What do you mean?”


Hermione was surprised at the confusion she saw in Harry’s eyes as they met hers. She felt her heart drop as her mind began to create possibilities for what that confusion meant.


“Harry, you aren’t thinking of break-“


“No!” Harry answered loudly enough to earn a glare from Madam Pince. “No,” he whispered, shifting his weight in his chair. “I mean, about your career. What do you want to do?”


“I want to work for the Ministry, you know that,” Hermione replied confused. “I want to work in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable. Why?” Harry exhaled heavily and Hermione’s eyes widened. “You don’t want to be an Auror anymore?” she whispered.


His eyes downcast, Harry propped his forehead on his fingertips and nodded.


Hermione pulled out her wand. “Muffliato. Why?” she asked eyeing the top of Harry’s head.


Harry looked up, his gaze challenging, daring her to shoot his explanation down. “Because I want to do something else,” he answered steadily.


Hermione sat there, staring at Harry blankly. Of all the things she had expected to come out of his mouth that was not on the list. And yet, he said it with such confidence, it left no room for question.


“Why?” Hermione asked, wincing at the disbelief she heard in the only word she seemed capable of saying in this conversation.


“Because…I’m — I’m tired,” Harry said, sitting back in his chair, his face a mixture of surprise and wonder. As he answered, Hermione realized this was as new to him as it was to her. “There are things about becoming an Auror I really love, but, once this is all over, I just — I just…” his voice trailed off as he fought to find the right words.


Hermione reached out and touched his arm. “You just want to do something different.” She spoke plainly, the understanding in her voice absolving him of any guilt he might think he needed to feel. “Harry, just because you are the one he chose, doesn’t mean you have to continue to do what you are doing now forever.”


Harry smiled gratefully at Hermione. “Thank you.”


Hermione returned the smile. “I take it you haven’t discussed this with Ginny?”


“No,” Harry shook his head. “I haven’t really been able to put it into words before.”


“Exactly what do you plan to do if you don’t want to be an Auror?”


Harry exhaled. “I — I don’t know.” Harry sat back in his chair as he tried to organize his thoughts. “I never thought I’d say this but doing all this research for-for-“ Harry glanced around out of habit for curious ears “- the spell — it’s been fun.”


Hermione bit the inside of her cheek as Harry blanched at his admission. She leaned across the table and patted his hand sympathetically. “I won’t tell anyone you said that,” she assured him.


Harry gave her a scathing look and withdrew his hand. “No, it’s not that I like the research part. It’s the spell part. I mean, have you read the books Anna gave Ginny? About the tombs and the tunnels and the treasures? They’re just really cool! Those wizards did some wicked stuff to keep others from finding their treasures. Then, Ginny had this one book where they were talking about how some of those spells are mutating and causing these strange things to happen to the stuff inside the tombs. There was this one where the binding spell —,” Harry stopped, realizing he had been waving his hands and rambling on with great enthusiasm for about two minutes, attracting the disgruntled attention of the Ravenclaw fifth years again. Dropping his hands into his lap, Harry slumped back, a slightly lost look coming about him. He opened his mouth and closed it. Opened it again and licked his lips before closing it. The third time, Hermione leaned forward, in case all he needed was a little encouragement and some assurance she was listening to get the words to come forth.


“I think I want to be a curse breaker.”


Hermione furrowed her brow and bit her bottom lip as Harry blinked expectantly at her. Despite having guessed where Harry was going with his outburst, she was still a little unprepared for the actual declaration. Instead of coming up with something supportive, she said the first thing that crossed her mind. “But Harry, you have to take Arithmancy to do that.”


Hermione cringed as Harry deflated before her eyes.


“I know,” Harry said glumly.


“I mean, oh, that came out wrong, Harry, I’m sorry,” she backpedaled. “You know, Harry, if anyone deserves to do something they really want to it would be you. That being said,” Hermione’s mind whirred, “the fact you are the chosen one and all —“


“Don’t call me that,” Harry winced.


“No, all I’m saying, Harry, is that you could use that to get them to bend the rules. I mean, after all, if you save the wizarding world — I mean when you save the wizarding world,” Hermione corrected herself as Harry glared at her, “it’s really the least the wizarding world could do in return.”


“What do you mean?” Harry asked suspiciously.


“Let you come back to Hogwarts and take the classes next year,” Hermione said simply. “You’ve got all the other requirements so it would be your only class. You’d have to study pretty hard to catch up, but if it’s the only thing you’re doing, you shouldn’t have any problems. Besides, I’m sure Anna and Ginny and Bill would help you.”


“You think?” Harry said, a grin beginning to play at the corners of his mouth.


“Yes, I do,” Hermione nodded as she watched Harry stand up suddenly. “Where are you off to?”


“Off to find my new tutor. Let’s hope she’s not too expensive,” Harry said, bending down to place a kiss on Hermione’s cheek. “Thanks, Hermione!”


Pleased, Hermione smiled as Harry strode purposefully out of the library in search of Ginny. The Ravenclaw fifth years eyed the empty seat in front of the stack of books Harry had left there jealously. Hermione ignored them as she turned to her own revising. In her own way, she decided she was helping them improve their scores. Sitting on the floor was actually good for them. She’d sat on the floor plenty of times studying for OWLs. It might be cold, but they certainly would not fall asleep.


Robes billowing behind him, Harry raced down the corridor. He did not really need to know where she was. He simply followed the ribbons which lead him to the Room of Requirement. Three passes and the door appeared. Harry flung open the door and threw himself into the room. Nathan, Anna and Ginny turned simultaneously to stare at Harry, who was looking rather windswept and slightly sweaty.


“Is something wrong, Harry?” Anna asked, stepping around the table toward him.


Harry shook his head and fought to catch his breath. “No, no — uh, Ginny, do you have a minute?”


Ginny looked questioningly from Harry to Anna and Nathan.


“Go,” Nathan sighed, waving her off. “Young love is what’s going to save this world anyway.”


Harry pulled Ginny into the corner of the room and out of ear shot.


“What’s wrong, Harry?” Ginny asked concerned.


Harry held tight to both her hands and looked into her concerned eyes. He opened his mouth to form the words but once again, nothing came out. He felt his mouth widen into a silly grin that felt like it wouldn’t stop at his cheeks, but keep going around the room until everyone was infected with this relieved happiness that flooded him. This was right, he just knew it.


As Harry’s elation flooded their bond, Ginny felt positively buoyant. She was pretty sure if she looked down at her feet, they would be several centimeters of air between the soles of her shoes and the stone floor. She was torn between drowning in the excitement shining brightly from Harry’s eyes and closing her own to watch the colors behind her lids.


“Harry, what has you in such a mood?” she giggled.


“Ginny I don’t think I want to be an Auror I want to be a curse breaker.” Harry sucked in air and looked at her expectantly, watching as Ginny repeated what he had blurted out, placing the proper punctuation in so she could process it.


“You don’t want to be an Auror,” Ginny said slowly shaking her head.


“No,” Harry said, shaking his head emphatically.


“You do want to be a curse breaker,” Ginny said nodding her head.


“Yes,” Harry answered. He felt sweat gathering beneath his collar as he waited in anticipation, his excitement morphing into nervousness as Ginny’s silence stretched. “Are you’re alright with that?”


Harry held his breath, his eyes on Ginny’s lips as they stretched into a smile.


“I’m very alright with it,” Ginny smiled.


“Really?” Harry said.



“Really.”


Harry let out a whoop, wrapping his arms around Ginny and picking her up to twirl her around. Forgetting where they were, Harry set her back down and let go, moving his hands to either side of her face and planting his lips firmly on hers. A wad of parchment hit him square in the side of the head.


“None of that!” Nathan said, taking aim with another piece of parchment. “Not unless you share what caused it with the rest of us.”


Ginny giggled as Harry wrapped his arms back around her waist and pulled her into a hug.


“I’m going to be a curse breaker,” Harry announced.


Anna grinned widely and held out her hand to her husband. “Pay up.”


Nathan groaned and dug in his pocket for a gold coin. “You are going to lord this over me for the next month, aren’t you?”


“No,” Anna dimpled, pocketing the Galleon.


“You are a rotten liar, Anna Borgin,” Nathan observed sourly.


Anna smiled at her husband and blew him a kiss. “But I am a gracious winner.”


“Wait, you knew?” Harry said, walking over to the table, his hand in Ginny’s. “But I just figured it out ten minutes ago.”


“Harry, I took the hex off Ron’s trunk,” Anna grinned. “It was brilliant!”


“Thanks,” Harry blushed.


“Unfortunately, before you start on your new career path, we still have a few other things to take care of first,” Nathan said, tapping his wand on the blackboard.


“Right,” Ginny said, squeezing Harry’s hand.


“Oh, wait until I tell Bill! He’ll be thrilled!” Anna said.


“Speaking of Bill,” Nathan broke in, shooting a disgruntled look at Anna, “when is he coming back?”


“This weekend,” Anna answered. “He said he’d do a little research on what we can use for the Entrapment Charm.”


“What do you mean?” Harry asked. “I thought he said this was good,” he said, pointing to the spell.


“It is,” Nathan answered. “But once we have the spirit, we have to have something to put it in or seal it in, for several reasons, one being we may need to transport it to the veil. Of course, that makes it sound like we’re carting leftover stew home from a family meal, doesn’t it?”


Ginny giggled. “I’d like to see what Mad Eye would think of you referring to Tom as stew.”


Nathan chuckled. “Probably not the best way to inspire respect, eh?”


“How hard is it to find a container for a spirit?” Harry asked.


Nathan traded a quick glance with Anna who answered. “Bill’s working on it. He’ll find something. You know Bill.”


“If anyone can do it, Bill can,” Ginny nodded.


“Right,” Anna said.


Conversation moved on to training and other spell related topics. Anna’s yawning signaled that it was time to go to bed and they gathered their work up. Anna smiled sleepily at Harry and Ginny’s retreating backs as Nathan closed the door to the Room of Requirement behind him. The door melted into stone wall as he took her hand and they headed off to the North Tower.


“You’re not too disappointed, are you?” Anna asked as they strolled down the corridor.


Nathan shrugged. “A bit, perhaps. Ultimately, though, I’m just glad he’s doing something he wants to do.”


“He deserves to do something that will keep that excitement in his heart,” Anna said.


“Yes, he does. We all do,” he said, leaning down to kiss his wife.


+++++


Pressing her hand against her middle in an effort to calm the butterflies flitting around in her stomach, Joanna trotted down the first floor hallway. She had been in the middle of Charms when a first year delivered a note to Professor Flitwick saying she was needed in Professor McGonagall’s office. Joanna had frozen in a state of panic. The reporter from The Daily Prophet must have finally arrived. For several days now, Joanna had been gearing up for this interview. As long as she didn’t accidentally spill the beans on any embarrassing childhood escapades and could keep her knee from bouncing uncontrollably in her nervousness, she should be fine.


Coming to a stop at Professor McGonagall’s door, Joanna wiped her sweaty palms on her robes. She tucked a stray blond hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. With determination, Joanna pushed the door a little too forcefully causing it to whoosh open and bang into the wall. Joanna cringed as the iron handle bounced against the stone and ricocheted back at her.


“Oh, I am so sorry,” Joanna apologized, catching the door before it collided with her nose. “I — I pushed it a little too hard.”


“Yes. You did.”


Despite knowing there would be a stranger here, Joanna still jumped at the unknown voice. Her eyes darted around the room in search of Professor McGonagall but she was not there. Joanna’s gaze instead fell on the figure of a woman sitting up almost unnaturally straight in the chair in front of the desk. Joanna’s eyes trailed from the stuffed bird perched precariously on the top of the hat to the fur stole around the wrinkled neck to the sensible, low heeled walking shoes. Joanna felt her heart splash into her rolling stomach and her cheeks flame as she forgot every good manner her mum had drilled into her head from the time she could walk and blurted out the first thing that crossed her mind.


“It really is a vulture, isn’t it?”


Joanna’s mind replayed what had just spilled out of her mouth and her eyes widened in horror. She clapped her hand over her mouth, praying for unconsciousness.


“Yes,” Augusta Longbottom replied evenly. “My husband gave it to me.”


Joanna felt her slowly returning sense of etiquette slip away once more as she gave in to the urge to reply, “Really?” with fascination. She took a step toward Neville’s grandmother to get a better look at the dead bird. “Neville never said that. How’d he kill it?”


“He used a suffocating charm.”


“Brilliant,” Joanna murmured, walking around the bird.


“You are the most unusual young lady I have ever met.”


Joanna presence of mind came crashing back and she just managed to stop her hand, which was in mid-air, millimeters from touching feathers. She took a step back and felt the chair opposite Augusta hit the back of her knees. Joanna sat.


Never one to dilly dally, Augusta came straight to the point. “I understand from your mother you are seeing my grandson.”


Joanna’s mind raced. She couldn’t recall her mother ever mentioning a connection with Neville’s family. She was sure she would have remembered that. “I’m — I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you knew my mother.”


“I don’t,” Augusta replied succinctly. “I received a note from her introducing herself. She obviously has an excellent understanding of…propriety,” she finished, looking down her nose at Joanna’s slumped posture.


Joanna quickly straightened up, pulling her skirt down over her knees and her robes together. She folded her hands in her lap and sat at the ready. Augusta did not nod in approval, but Joanna thought the sneer might have lessened — a bit.


“How long have you been seeing my grandson?”


“Uh, well, since the holidays,” Joanna replied. “Neville didn’t tell you?”


“He mentioned it. I didn’t believe him. So several months, now.”


“Yes,” Joanna answered a little put out by her lack of faith in Neville.


“Has he told you about his parents?”


Joanna looked down at her folded hands and nodded.


“Are you going to meet them?”


“Well, yes, I suppose. Neville has said he would like me to.”


“And do you?”


“Do I what?”


“Do you want to meet my son and his wife?”


Joanna felt annoyance begin to creep up her spine, straightening her back until it was rigid. “Yes, of course, I do,” Joanna answered curtly. “They are Neville’s parents.”


“Your father is the new Minister of Magic,” Augusta said, pursing her lips.


“Yes,” Joanna answered, pursing her own.


“Politics is a nasty business.”


“I suppose,” Joanna replied.


“Politicians tend to have little backbone once in office, only bowing down to the highest bidder or the most vocal.”


Somewhere in the back of Joanna’s mind was the inkling that this woman was baiting her, but anger had begin to cloud her judgment and she was quickly loosing control of whatever semblance of decorum she had left.


“Obviously, you do not know my father,” Joanna ground out.


“No, I don’t, but that will be remedied. I will not have the Longbottom name sullied by the likes of a spineless politician.”


“For Merlin’s sake, my father has never and will never be considered spineless! And who knows how long he’ll have the job! Besides, Neville and I aren’t getting married this summer! We’re only bonding!”


For the second time that day, Joanna clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her vocal runoff. She and Neville had talked about telling her parents and his grandmother before school was out because she would need to train this summer. They had started planning a carefully thought out explanation, stressing the benefits about why they were doing this. And now, she had put it out there in a blurted exclamation during the heat of an argument!


“Bonding? As in a blood bond?”


Joanna nodded, keeping her hand in place.


“You are a Mediator?”


“You know about blood bonds?” Joanna asked, disbelievingly as she dropped her hand.


“I read the paper, too.”


“Oh, right, Harry and Ginny’s,” Joanna deduced.


“You are sure?”


“Sure?” Joanna asked confused.


“Sure you are my grandson’s bond? Sure Neville has a bond?”


Joanna nodded again as Augusta gave her a searing once over.


“Neville is a Longbottom. That might not mean much in your circles, but it is a name to be respected.”


Joanna bristled once more at the implications that her family wasn’t good enough but kept her mouth closed.


“Neville is not the most talented of wizards —“


“Now, wait a minute, he’s a brilliant Herb-“


“He is my grandson and I truly believe you have to be honest about your children and their children,” August finished, raising her voice over Joanna’s outburst. “Do you love him?”


“Of course I love Neville,” Joanna shouted, shooting up from her chair, her hands fisted at her side. “He’s kind and loyal and generous. He tutors first and second years in Herbology. He helps out Professor Sprout with keeping the greenhouses picked up. He’s got a heart the size of the castle and would do anything for any of his friends. Why some other girl hasn’t snatched him up before now, I have no idea. I’m just lucky he loves me, too, because there’s nothing I want to do more than spend the rest of my life making sure he’s happy!”


Augusta Longbottom sat back in her chair, her expression unreadable as she watched Joanna’s eyes flash fire and her cheeks redden. Joanna looked straight ahead into the vulture’s eyes and thought briefly that this woman must be stuffed, too, if she couldn’t see how special Neville was. Suddenly, the vulture began to move up and Joanna stepped back to avoid being hit by the hat’s brim. She stood there as Augusta stepped around her chair and moved toward the door.


“That’s it?” Joanna said disbelievingly. “You’re leaving?”


“Yes,” Augusta replied, pulling the door open.


“What — what — what did you want?”


Augusta paused and turned, leveling Joanna with her gaze. “I wanted to see who you were. I have. Now I’m leaving.”


“But — but —I don’t understand,” Joanna sputtered.


“You’ll do.”


“I’ll do? I’ll do what? What does ‘I’ll do’ mean?” Joanna cried.


“It means you remind me of myself at your age,” Augusta said, her words short and clipped. “You’ll do. I’ll expect to see you over the holidays. Good day.”


Her mouth slightly open, her brain fuzzy, Joanna watched stunned as the door closed behind Neville’s grandmother, She fell into the chair behind her, continuing to stare at the back of the door. She sat there several minutes, the fog in her brain swirling as she tried to figure out how in the world she had managed to pass muster with Augusta Longbottom.


“I remind her of herself,” she mused dazedly to the empty office. Then she snorted. “If Neville ever brings home a dead bird, it will be dinner. Only! There is no way I will ever wear it.”


Pushing herself out of her chair, Joanna stood up, her knees a little wobbly, before opening the door to the office and heading back to Charms.



++++


A/N — To my betas, wvchemteach and Anya — I’m running out of ways to tell you guys how much I appreciate you! Thanks!!!


The next couple of chapters are a bit transitional as we ramp up for the end of the year and what that holds. I look forward to hearing what you think of them.


Next chapter…Exactly what do you put the Dark Lord’s spirit in?
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