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SIYE Time:15:16 on 29th 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: 197803; Chapter Total: 6509







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Disclaimer — I do not own Harry Potter.




Touch





The ribbons danced before Harry’s eyes, a brightly colored silk rainbow waving against the blue sky. But it was blue only for a moment. He watched as the sun went away. Or was it just a light? He wasn’t sure. Without it though, the blue turned to smoke grey and the ribbons frayed. He could see the ragged ends, the thread unweaving slowly as the ribbons began to lose color.


Harry screamed silently and threw his heart forward. It wasn’t enough. The ribbons regressed. And so did he.


+++++



Clutching Nathan’s arm with one hand, the other under her belly, Anna breathed in fresh air as her feet hit the ground. Her eyes were drawn to the sky and the beacon of light.


“It’s done,” she whispered.


Nathan stood still next to his wife bathing in the almost daylight sheen from the magic.


“Do you suppose they can see that at Hogwarts?” Anna asked.


“I don’t know,” Nathan answered honestly. “I’m sure they can feel it though.”


Anna squeezed Nathan’s arm. “Nathan, they need your help. Go.”


Nathan looked down at his wife, torn with indecision.


“Go,” she repeated and gave him a slight push. “I can’t be of much help. But you can.”


“Let me get you to St. Mungos —“


“No, Nathan, I can get to St. Mungos on my own.”


“Anna, you can barely walk —“


“Nathan, we’re wasting time. Go.” Anna pulled a chain out from under her shirt. A sickle, tarnished and scratched, was suspended on the chain. “I’ll be fine.”


“You still have that?” Nathan asked surprised.


“Rule 606.12.A. All Gringotts Employees must wear a standard issue, single use, single person Portkey that will transport them directly to the lobby of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in case they find themselves suffering from said magical malady or injury,” Anna recited. “I just wish I could stay and help.”


“Always the Gryffindor, aren’t you?” Nathan kissed her forehead softly.


“I’m sure there are others here who need this more than I do.”


“Anna, you need to go. You’re wrist is swollen, you’re dehydrated and hungry. And you’re pregnant, in case you forgot.”


Anna chuckled. “Little hard to do that these days.”


“I’ll go if you go,” Nathan smiled.


Anna stood on her tip toes and kissed her husband. “Deal.”


“Be safe. I love you.”


Anna touched his cheek and smiled. “I love you, too. Meet me at St. Mungos?”


“You know, they aren’t really known for their romantic atmosphere, but if that’s what you want…”


Rolling her eyes, Anna waved him off. She swayed slightly on her feet. Another wave of cramps started on one side of her belly and traveled its width. It wasn’t the first. She knew it was time to go.


“Alright, Little One,” she whispered, rubbing the Sickle Portkey between her thumb and forefinger, “let’s go get checked out.”


++++


Ginny drew a breath and cried. Her chest felt as if she had swallowed fire. She flung herself into the ribbons and scrambled along their lengths. The weaving became unstable. She wobbled, loosing herself as the silk waved beneath her, not willing to believe what her heart understood. She came to the end of one of the strands. It was burnt and black and dying.


Tears streamed inside as she threw herself into the blackness and clung to what was left of her bond.


++++



Nathan glanced over his shoulder to where Anna had been moments before. He rubbed his thumb over his wedding band. It was comfortably warm. For the first time in several hours, he felt centered and in control. He pressed his hand to his numb ribs. Anna and the baby were safe and in good hands. It was time to finish here.


One by one, the pockets of spell battles were being extinguished. The Dark Lord was dead. The Order members were rounding up the Death Eaters who were alive and had not Disapparated. Nathan straightened his shoulders and started off in the direction of a small group huddled on the ground, almost toppling over as a compact red headed tornado barreled past him.


“Arthur! Arthur! How are they? Oh, heavens, they’re so pale. Arthur, have you checked? Are they — are they breathing? Arthur?”


Molly fell to her knees beside Harry and Ginny. She gathered her daughter into her arms; crushed her to her chest; and pressed her cheek to Ginny’s nose.


“She’s breathing, Arthur. She’s breathing — and she’s crying. She needs a doctor. We need to get them to St. Mungos — “


“Molly, calm down,” Arthur said hoarsely as he knelt down next to his wife.


“Calm down? Calm down! Arthur, how do you expect me to calm — Nathan! Nathan, what is wrong with them? What did you do to them?” Molly’s shriek crossed the moor for all to hear.


Nathan winced and crouched down beside her. He reached out and felt for a pulse. He willed his eyes to stay on their forms and not look over at the shell that had been Tom Riddle. He was afraid if he did he would see that there really wasn’t much difference between Lord Voldemort and Harry and Ginny. He, too, was still and grey and cold. But he wasn’t breathing. And these two were.


Nathan was glad it was dark. Darkness hides fear and concern rather well. Yes, Harry and Ginny were breathing — barely. Their skin was translucent and cold. Their bodies were bent in an uncomfortable looking, painful position.


He could see moisture on Ginny’s cheeks. Her hair was matted to her head, clumps stuck together, running down her forehead like streaks of blood. Her lips were cracked and blue. Her skin reflected the moonlight and allowed the burns and bruises to grow darker. Her hands were curled up, her fingers frozen.


Harry’s chest barely moved as his lungs sucked in air. It seemed impossible, but his knuckles were whiter than his skin as his hand still clutched his wand. His hollow cheeks were streaked with dirt and sweat and darkening dried blood.


Nathan’s voice cracked as he spoke. “They’re alive, Molly —“


“They aren’t awake -“


“Molly, they need to go to St. Mungos —“


“I know that! What is wrong —“


“Molly, St. Mungos. Will you take them?”


Nathan’s voice cut through Molly’s panic.


Molly stopped her mouth wide open. She clamped it shut as Arthur put his hand on her shoulder. She nodded mutely.


“Tell the Healers they are suffering from severe spell damage. I will be there shortly to see if I can answer any further questions,” Nathan assured her.


“I can help, too,” Remus offered as he joined the group.


“Me, too.” Ron’s breathing was labored as he limped over to the group, Hermione at his side.


“Remus, will you take Fleur?” Bill asked.


Lupin nodded and Bill transferred Fleur’s weight to him.


Bill touched the side of Fleur’s cheek gently. “I need to go back down.”


“Be safe,” Fleur whispered and kissed him softly.


“Alright,” Nathan said briskly, “Molly, you take Ginny. Ron and Hermione, you take Harry. Remus, you have Fleur. I’ll help Bill.”


Nathan touched Remus’ arm. “Remus, could you look in on Anna? She should already be there.”


Remus gave Nathan a reassuring smile. “I’ll be happy to.”


Molly reached out for Arthur. “Come as soon as you can,” she instructed softly.


“I will, Molly dear,” he replied and pressed a kiss to her forehead.


With a deep breath, Molly gathered her daughter in her arms and along with the others, Disapparated.


++++


Harry knew he was lost. And he hurt. And he was cold. His blood felt like mud. He was tired. He just wanted to stop searching. If he stopped searching perhaps the ache would go away. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel so alone. Perhaps he could just go to sleep —

No. He couldn’t. If stopped searching, he wouldn’t have peace. He needed peace.


++++


“Arthur,” Moody growled at him as he passed. “Have you seen Nathan?”


“He’s over helping Bill,” Arthur replied. “They’re going back down —“


“I need to know what do with this.”


Arthur glanced back at Moody, his gaze following where Moody’s wand pointed. The circlet lay quiet on the ground at his feet, the jewels, still and solid, holding Tom Riddle’s soul intact.


Automatically, Arthur’s eyes traveled past the circlet to where Tom Riddle fell. A building surge of hatred flooded his body as he took in what was left of the Dark Lord.


“Rather pathetic,” Moody commented.


Arthur stepped forward, his mind on destroying what remained of the man who had hurt so many of his family. His nostrils flared and his fists clenched at his sides. Ginny and Harry and Percy and all the rest - fighting to live because of this — this thing. Arthur swallowed against the bile rising from his stomach. He didn’t feel Moody’s hand around his arm until he stumbled, pulled backward by the voice of reason.


“He’s dead, Arthur, there’s nothing more you can do to him.”


Arthur opened his mouth to argue that fact.


“You can make sure he stays dead by finding Nathan.”


Moody’s magical eye twirled in its socket as it searched the moor. His normal eye focused on Arthur. Arthur exhaled and shut his mouth. His shoulders slumped.


“Nathan needs to tell us what to do with it,” Moody poked the air above the circlet with his wand.


“I — I thought it was going to Hogwarts to be guarded,” Arthur replied, his eyes drawn back to Tom Riddle’s body. It would take some time to let go of this anger.


“I can’t touch it,” Moody stated.


“You can’t touch it?” Arthur repeated.


“I won’t touch it,” Moody clarified.


Arthur paused. Moody. “Ah,” he nodded. “We need Nathan.”


“That’s what I said,” Moody noted dryly.


“I’ll be right back,” Arthur said.


+++++


Ginny huddled within herself. There wasn’t any place for her to go. She held the ribbons that had no anchor and wept. She tried to heal the ones that held fast but she had nothing left to give. She needed Harry but Harry wasn’t there.


+++++


Nathan handed Joanna back her scarf. “You going to be okay, Neville?”


Neville nodded from behind his handkerchief. “Yeb. Tanks.”


“No problem,” Nathan grinned. “That will take you to Madam Pomfrey. She should be able to patch you up in no time.”


“Thank you, Professor,” Joanna said and held the scarf out to Luna and Neville.


In a whirl, they were gone.


Nathan spotted Bill kneeling by the station stone. Bill pulled out his wand and aimed it. The stone slowly moved.


“Need some help?” Nathan asked as he stopped by Bill’s side.


Bill nodded gratefully at Nathan. “If they can spare you that would be nice.”


“Nathan!” Arthur panted as he jogged up beside them. “Moody needs you. He needs to know what to do with the circlet.”


Nathan looked apologetically at Bill who waved him off. “Go. I’ll be fine.”


“Can I help?” Arthur asked his son.


Bill smiled. “I’d like that, Dad. Thanks.”


Arthur held up his wand. ”Lumos. Do you know how we’re going to find him?” he asked quietly.


Bill nodded toward the stone. Arthur squinted through the early dawn light and realized the red in the sky moved.


“Fawkes,” Arthur said quietly.


“Fawkes,” Bill repeated and lit his wand.


Fawkes spread his wings and flapped once, raising himself from his perch. Circling the moor, he swooped into the tunnel leading down below the earth. Silently, father and son followed.


+++++


At St. Mungos, Tonks tiredly broke away from the group of Healers as she saw Anna step off the stairs.

“Wotcher, Anna,” she greeted quietly.


“Tonks,” Anna replied. She stopped and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. “Are you hurt?”


“Nothing bad,” Tonks assured her. “I’m setting up guard duty for Harry and Ginny.”


“Oh,” Anna replied faintly. She wasn’t feeling all that well. The Portkey had dropped her in the lobby. No one had bothered her as she made her way up the stairs. But it seemed like she’d been climbing forever. She was lightheaded and nauseous. Anna swallowed, her tongue feeling thick and dry. Tonks began to blur in front of her eyes. She shivered.


“Anna, are you alright?” Tonks asked worriedly as she placed a steadying hand on Anna’s elbow.


Anna nodded. Then shook her head. Then everything went black.


++++


“So, let me get this straight,” Moody said, “the only two who can touch this thing are at St. Mungos?”


Nathan crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.


“What bloody idiot thought of this plan?” Moody growled.


“That would be the two in St. Mungos at the moment, too,” Nathan said mildly.


“Borgin, you don’t sound concerned about this.”


Nathan knelt on the damp grass and studied the circlet. “Alastor, this is the most incredible magical object ever to exist. Have you even stopped to ponder —“


“No.”


“Well, I mean, just think about it —“


“No.”


“ — the power it holds, both dark and light —“


“Borgin!”


Nathan looked up and grinned. “Sorry, Alastor.”


“Just figure out how we’re going to transport the bloody thing, will you!” Moody ordered exasperatedly.


“Where’s it going?” Nathan asked as he stood up and brushed grass off his knees.


“Hogwarts,” Moody answered. “I don’t trust the Ministry.”


Nathan smiled. “No, you don’t. The only way Tom’s essence will escape is if somehow the love magically placed within this circlet is broken. Harry and Ginny’s love for each other binds the others together.” Nathan glanced at Moody whose magical eye was rolling skyward. “What?”


“Just get on with it, will you? Professors!” Moody grumbled.


“Takes one to know one,” Nathan commented dryly. “True love endures all things — odd, that’s how this whole thing started —“


“Borgin!”


“Right,” Nathan chuckled. He couldn’t help it. The events of the evening were beginning to surface within him and he found himself just wanting to laugh. He was afraid if he didn’t laugh, he’d be sobbing. Nathan cleared his throat and pointed his wand.


”Wingardium Leviosa.”


The circlet rose in the air and floated in front of Moody. Nathan grinned at him. Moody’s eyes rolled.


The sound of someone Apparating made Nathan turn his head. Tonks came barreling toward him, pink hair flying. His heart dropped. He knew where she’d come from.


Tonks skidded to a stop in front of them. “It’s Anna,” she panted.


Moody’s wand shot out. Nathan waited long enough for the levitating charm to transfer wands and was gone.


++++


“What do you mean they aren’t responding?” Molly asked, her voice deadly in its unnatural calmness.


Healer Meyers took a step back. She had been a Mediwitch too many years to not recognize the eruption held at bay by such a tone.


“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she answered, “they seem to be suspended, so to speak.”


“Suspended?” Molly repeated.


Healer Meyers took another small step back and met the wall. She nodded. “We have had our top Healers examine them. We’ve followed your instructions —“


”NATHAN!”


Healer Meyers jumped and pressed her hand to her heart as Molly’s full volume shriek filled the waiting room.


“Nathan! Thank Merlin you’re here! Harry and Ginny — they aren’t - Nathan! Do you hear me? Where are you going?”


“Molly — I’m sorry — it’s Anna —“ Nathan’s eyes were bright with fear.


“It’s Harry and Ginny, too!” Molly argued.


“Professor Borgin?” Healer Meyers inquired.


Nathan nodded distractedly. “You know where Anna is?”


“Yes, I do. I’ll take you to her,” Healer Meyers assured him. She then turned to Molly. “Mrs. Weasley, Harry and Ginny’s conditions are stable. I will return shortly. Professor Borgin, this way.”


Nathan’s eyes met Molly’s apologetically as he was steered down the hall toward his wife and baby. Healer Meyers looked back over her shoulder to see Molly collapse in one of the chairs in the waiting room. She could tell from here Molly was crying.


Healer Meyers sighed. It was going to be a long shift.


+++++


Ginny could feel Harry. He was there. He was close but at the same time, he wasn’t. She could sense him through the ragged ribbons she clung to. They were becoming worn in patches, the woven strands separating and thinning with time. She tried to send her love through the colors but she had no power to do so. It bled into the graying silk and stopped within her reach. Ginny’s heart clenched.


True love was supposed to endure all things.


+++++



Several days later, Arthur Weasley pushed aside the copy of Witch Weekly covering the chair and sat down. Setting down a mug of tea he had snuck from the tea room upstairs, he idly picked up the magazine. He read the titles of the featured articles —


How to Befriend the Rats in Your Attic — Stop Their Freeloading Ways in Ten Easy Steps.


Look Years Younger with our Daily Spa Regiment — Potion Recipes Inside!


Save Sickles this Holiday Season with our Cost Cutting Tips!



Arthur glanced up at the date and sighed. He knew how the magazine must feel - old and worn out. Placing the journal next to his tea, Arthur picked up The Daily Prophet and leaned back in the worn hospital chair. He rubbed his slightly sore chest and contemplated the waiting room. Not that there was anything new in the waiting room to study since they had arrived three — no, four, days ago. The magazines could attest to that. Granted four days ago this waiting room had been filled with people bustling with purpose. Now it felt a bit lonely. Of course that was only because he’d finally convinced Molly to pop back home to freshen up. She’d be back soon.


Arthur spread out the paper on the cluttered table in front of him.


New Minister of Magic Announced



Three days after the demise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Ameila Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has been named the new Minister of Magic. Milton Blevins, the acting Interim Minister, has stepped down. Mr. Blevins took over as Minister of Magic when Cornielus Fudge resigned approximately seven months ago.


In a press conference late yesterday, Mr. Blevins stated that it has been an honor to serve as the Minister and looks forward to supporting the new Minister as he returns to his previous position as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.


Following a rather unfortunate kidnapping, Ameila Bones has returned full time to the Ministry and is anticipating her new role with great enthusiasm. “I am quite excited to lead our Ministry and our country into this new time — this new era of peace,” Ms. Bones announced.


When asked what her first course of action would be, Ms. Bones answered that she hopes to build on top of Mr. Blevin’s achievements in strengthening the magical population’s confidence in the Ministry, while determining the proper levels of safety preparedness, not only for the Ministry, but also the public. “While it is true that we are beginning a time of great celebration,” Ms. Bones stated, “we cannot dismiss the possibilities. I do not want to alarm anyone. I simply want to keep us all safe.”



Arthur smiled as he flipped the pages. Finally a Minister Moody could relate to, he surmised. As he folded the paper along the middle crease, his eyes caught on a small article near the bottom corner.


Boy Who Lived — No Change


Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived Again, remains a patient in St. Mungos. The hospital is keeping quiet about the state of his well being. There is also no word on the health of Ministry employee Arthur Weasley’s daughter Ginevra who was also seriously injured in the battle with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.


“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Arthur muttered under his breath and closed the paper. Tossing it down on the table in front of him, Arthur pushed himself out of his chair, his muscles protesting the movement. He may not have been admitted to the hospital for any serious issues, but his body had been telling him for several days that he was a little out of shape for such intensities as battling the Dark Lord. Slowly bending over to pick up his tea, he carried it to the door across the way and peeked in.


Ginny lay in one of the beds, pale and unmoving. Harry lay in the bed next to her. He didn’t look much better. When Molly had brought them here, the Healers had placed them in separate rooms for their initial evaluations. Several hours later, the Healers had approached the growing group of concerned faces gathered with little news. Harry and Ginny were, for lack of a better term, catatonic. They were lifeless yet still alive. Yes, they were breathing. Yes, their hearts beat. Yes, their magical reserves were low. But past the outward bumps, bruises, cuts and scrapes, there wasn’t much they could do. There wasn’t much they could do because, quite frankly, they didn’t really know what was wrong.


Neither one was responding to any of the known treatments. This wasn’t common spell work. This wasn’t a common witch or wizard. It would take time and research to figure out the best way to treat it. Molly had determined they could start treating it by putting Harry and Ginny at least in the same room.


“I’m not spending valuable time running from one room to the other! I’ve got enough rooms to visit right now! No one will find out anyway!”


And no one had. The Order had seen to that. Remus and Tonks outlined a schedule, stationing members at the door to the floor to chase off unwanted visitors such as the press. Milton Blevins, and now Amelia Bones, had offered full support of the Ministry and the use of the utmost trusted Aurors for the purpose of guard duty. Such duty pretty much meant crowd control, and the Aurors were kept busy keeping the press and well-wishers at bay.


Waving at Kingsley Shaklebolt who was on guard duty, Arthur pushed the door open to Harry and Ginny’s room and made his way to the chair in between the beds. He sat down and cradled his mug in his hands. His eyes swept his daughter and the boy he considered his seventh son and once again he felt helpless.


As a father, Arthur Weasley had tried his best to always be there for his children. He did his best to support them, to comfort them, to patch them up when they needed it. And while he may not have always agreed with their choices, Arthur believed in his children because he knew deep down they were good. But now, here he sat unable to do anything much past giving them the daily update. And so, that is what he did.


“Good morning, Ginny. Harry,” he started, his voice a little hoarse. Arthur winced, Molly’s voice echoing in his ears.


”They may not respond, Arthur, but they hear you so do try to be cheerful. No one wants to wake up after sleeping for so long and only be able to remember a vague sense of dreariness!”


Sleeping. That’s what Molly called it. Harry and Ginny were sleeping. Arthur didn’t have the heart to tell her any differently — mostly because he wanted to believe her. Clearing his throat, he tried again.


“I’ll apologize right off if I repeat anything you already know. I don’t know what Molly has told you already. So, as you might have guessed Ron and Hermione are back at Hogwarts. Ron’s limping a bit, but if you ask me it’s more for sympathy from Hermione. Although I don’t know how long that will last,” Arthur smiled, remembering how Ron’s limp had progressively gotten worse the more Hermione fussed over him. “They will be back this evening for a short visit. You’ll remember that Minerva — or perhaps I should say Headmistress McGonagall — has allowed them short visits while you’re here. The Healers think it may help if your friends are around.”


Arthur took a sip of tea and continued. “Of course, Hermione said something about needing to catch up with the NEWT study schedule. I’ve never heard of one, but it appears she and Ron are days behind. As are you, she pointed out yesterday. In fact, she’s a bit peeved at you, Harry, for that reason. I told her I’d reiterate her displeasure to you.” Arthur leaned closer to Harry’s bed and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Really, I think that’s just her way of showing her concern, Harry.”


“Now, Neville looks like he’s been in a bit of row. That broken nose of his has given him two black eyes. Madam Pomfrey told him, after breaking it again, he might always have a bit of a jaunt to it. Oh, and snore — Poppy said he might snore. Minerva said you should have seen that boy blush. That was probably because Joanna was standing right next to him when they told him. She seems like a nice girl, Joanna does.”


Arthur drained his mug and set it on the floor by his feet. He then sat back in his chair and laced his fingers across his middle.


“Fleur healed in no time. She said it’s the Veela blood in her. Just a few scars, nothing more. Oh, and Kingsley Shacklebolt’s leg healed up quickly, too. He’s back at work and currently serving guard duty. And let’s see…oh, yes, Anna. She and Nathan have had a bit of a rough patch with the baby. The Healers have stabilized her finally and put her on bed rest. She was released - let’s see, what day is it? Oh, yes,” Arthur said, consulting his memory, “yesterday. She’s been told she might, if everything settles down, be able to resume a part time work schedule from home in a few weeks. Nathan’s ribs healed just fine, but it still hurts for him to laugh. He’s avoiding Fred and George for a bit —“


“And we’re rather offended by that,” Fred commented from the doorway.


“Everyone knows laughter is the best medicine,” George nodded, following his brother into the room.


“I’m not sure that holds true for broken ribs,” Arthur commented wisely. “What are you two up to?”


“Just came from checking in on Percy,” Fred answered.


Arthur sat up straight in his chair. “What did you do to him today?”


“Us? Do anything to our dear brother?” George blinked his eyes innocently.


“George,” Arthur said sternly.


By the time Molly had delivered Percy to St. Mungos, he was unconscious. The Healers said he had lost a lot of blood but that was easily remedied. What was not so easily fixed was Percy’s thinking process. The Healers had determined Percy would regain full use of all his mental faculties in due time. However, because it had been such a severe blow to the back of his head, combined with the act of Apparation, Percy’s current mental processing skills were a bit muddled.


Molly and Arthur had agreed to keep this to themselves for two very obvious reasons. Unfortunately, those two very obvious reasons had ended up at St. Mungos following the battle relatively unscathed. After being released by the Healers, Fred and George had gone to check in on the incoming wounded. Most everyone was huddled around Harry and Ginny which left them a little time to wander. Percy, having been admitted earlier, was settled in a room just down the hall. It hadn’t taken long for the twins to determine that with just a little prodding and encouragement, they could convince their older brother of things he had no way to refute.


For the first two days of his stay, Percy had believed he was Madam Rosmerta. The Healers finally had to bind him to his bed as he kept hopping out of it, nicking medical supply trays and attempting to serve passing visitors glasses of hospital water claiming it was aged Firewhiskey. Yesterday, Percy had believed he was the Head Healer of St. Mungos and had ordered medical procedures on anyone who entered his room. When Percy had ordered full physicals for Fred and George, Fred had quickly convinced his brother he was a children’s entertainer. Percy had snuck out of his room and made it the children’s ward, hospital gown flapping behind him, before anyone caught him.


“Who is he today?” Arthur asked in half-hearted disapproving tone.


“Minister of Magic,” Fred answered.


“He’s demanding copies of protocol agreements and herb standard reports at the moment,” George added.


Arthur looked gravely at his two sons, fighting to keep from smiling and loosing the battle. “I bet he’s rather good at that, isn’t he?”


”Damn impressive,” Fred nodded.


“How are they doing?” George asked.


“No change,” Arthur shook his head as Fred and George conjured two stools out of the air and sat down.


“Wish we could convince them of waking up as easily as we can convince Percy he’s the lead singer of the Weird Sisters,” Fred said as he rested his chin in his hands.


“Me, too,” Arthur sighed.


Silence filled the room as the three Weasley men studied the still faces of Harry and Ginny, each one trying to figure out if there was anything he could have done differently to have prevented this. Arthur stirred first.


“Percy believed he was the lead singer of the Weird Sisters?” he asked.


“Yeah,” George smiled wistfully, his eyes on Ginny. “He was rather good, too.”


“Little off key,” Fred admitted, “but, yeah, rather good.”


“I hope for your sake he doesn’t remember any of this,” Arthur observed and paused for a moment before continuing. “If you get him to do it again, though, come get me. I’d like to see that one. Just don’t tell your mother.”


++++


Harry felt the tug on his heart but couldn’t see the bond. His world was filled with blackness. But he felt it. He didn’t know if Ginny felt it. She was always much stronger than he was at sending magic into the bond. But this was love and sending love into the bond was easy now that he knew how. It was just a matter of finding a ribbon in all the darkness to send it down.


++++


Bill settled himself on a stool that had been left to the side of Ginny’s bed. He shifted his weight to get comfortable and felt the stool legs give a wobble. He made the connection seconds before landing on his backside on the cold tile floor, the stool beside him, its legs a mess of wiggly jelly.


“Fred and George visited earlier, didn’t they?” Bill asked his sister and Harry as he pushed himself off the floor. Bill lifted up the stool which now resembled something like a jellyfish with the four legs dangling. The seat itself mocked him, flashing ”Another Fine Product of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes.”


“Well, Harry,” Bill said and tossed the dissolving stool under a bed, “I hope you can see what you are responsible for doing.” After giving the chair in between the beds a once over, Bill gingerly sat down and relaxed as it held his weight. “Of course,” Bill settled back, “there are worse places to laugh than St. Mungos.”


Bill looked at Ginny and deflated a bit, the tug in his heart creating an ache that wasn’t going away. She was so…quiet. Bill didn’t like it when Ginny was quiet — mostly because he could never really remember a time when Ginny had been quiet. Quiet didn’t suit her all that well. There was too much life within her to be constrained and contained. It had no choice but to bubble forth.


Bill reached out and placed his hand over Ginny’s resting on the top of her blankets. He wouldn’t call it warm, but it wasn’t cold either. It just felt like it was missing something. Bill wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed.


“So, Ginny,” Bill started, his voice a little husky, “Anna owled me today. Harry, you may want to pay attention to this, too. You know Anna is not supposed to be working - ‘course she claims this isn’t working. It’s just letter writing,” Bill chuckled. “Anna doesn’t sit well. Nathan mentioned that. Now I can see what he means.


“Anyway, Anna said Gringotts is thinking of starting an internship type program — sort of as a way to interest students in working for them. It doesn’t pay much, but it pairs you up with an experienced curse breaker and lets you go to a few sites. Not that the two of you need that kind of experience. Anna said she was sure both of you would be accepted to the program seeing as she’s heading it up. I told her I’d let you know so you could think it over. It would be for the summer.”


Bill looked between Harry and Ginny’s closed eyes and blinked rapidly. He deflated. His shoulders slumped as he hung his head and stared at his shoes. “I wish there had been a different way to do this,” he whispered. “I can’t help but feel responsible for putting you two in this state. I should have researched the charm more, should have known…” Bill’s voice trailed off and he dug in his pocket with his free hand for his handkerchief.


Blowing his nose, Bill leaned his head back and blinked at the ceiling. “Fleur says I’m being too hard on myself. Anna told me to buck up and move on today. I wanted to yell at her for that. She didn’t mean anything by it. She just meant that it was your choice. But I can’t help it. I still feel responsible…”


Bill’s shoulders shuddered. He struggled to regain control over his breathing and swiped at the tears falling down his cheeks.


“There’s no crying in curse breaking, by the way,” Bill cleared his throat, “so when you two start this summer, no tears. Just good common sense spell work.”


Taking a deep breath, Bill stood up. “I’ve got to get back to work, now. I’ll stop by later, alright? You can think the whole internship thing over and let me know then.”


Leaning over, Bill placed a soft kiss on Ginny’s cool forehead. Not trusting his voice, Bill reluctantly let go of her hand and turned toward the door. His eyes on his boots, Bill reached out for the door handle and pulled. Tonks stumbled into the room, her hand wrapped around the opposite door handle.


“Tonks! Sorry about that,” Bill said hurriedly, straightening his expression and placing a steady hand under her elbow.


“No, my fault,” Tonks apologized and brushed the fronts of her robes. “I didn’t see you on the other side. Wasn’t looking, actually.”


“You look tired,” Bill observed.


“We’re pulling double duty these days,” Tonks shrugged.


“Still crazy out there?”


“Getting better, thankfully,” she nodded.


“So it’s safe for me to return to work?” Bill asked smiling.


“Unfortunately so,” Tonks grinned. “I thought I’d grab a bite of lunch with Harry and Ginny. I take it you can’t join us?”


“No, I’ve got to get back. I’ll stop by later though.”


“Right,” Tonks smiled. “Later, then.”


“Bye, Tonks,” Bill replied and pulled the door closed behind him.


Tonks traded her wand in her pocket for her lunch. Dismissing the chair between the bed, she nudged Harry’s legs. “Oy, Harry, move it. Give a girl a seat, will you?”


Tonks wiggled herself up on the end of Harry’s bed and unwrapped her lunch. “Sorry, you two — I know the food in here is rubbish,” she said. “I’ll be happy to smuggle you in something when you’re up to it. All you have to do is ask.”


Tonks took a bite of her sandwich and chewed, thoughtfully studying the two teenagers. “Merlin, you’re too young to be in here,” she muttered taking a deep breath. “So, you might have heard me tell Bill that it’s getting better out there. You might also have imagined that word spread pretty fast about Voldemort’s demise. For the most part everybody took the news pretty calmly, although the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been keeping people on duty for double shifts to make sure celebrations don’t get out of hand. You can’t really throw drunk revelers in Azkaban, so they’ve transfigured the Wizengamot Chamber on the seventh floor of the Ministry — you remember that one, don’t you, Harry? — to a holding cell until they sober up and can be sent home with a warning. They’ve even called in Aurors to help out which is why I’ve got these lovely looking bags under my eyes. Doesn’t seem to matter what I do to the rest of my face, the bags stay.”


Tonks took another bite. “Speaking of Azkaban, we’ve done a fair job of rounding up most of the known Death Eaters. And,” Tonks said in a low whisper, “you’ll be glad to know Snape has been given a wonderful, private cell with a view.”


“Other than that, not much is going on. Remus has been acting funny over the past day or two and I know what you’re thinking — it’s not a full moon. Fleur said Bill’s acting the same way — all grumpy and private and growling at her, too.” Tonks held out her left hand and waggled her fingers. “Fleur and I have a feeling we know why,” she smiled wistfully at Ginny, “and just between us girls — Harry, don’t you listen — Fleur and I decided we had better say yes.”


Tonks took another bite of her sandwich and glanced at her watch. “Oh, Merlin, I’ve got to get back.” Hopping off of Harry’s bed, Tonks patted his feet hidden under the blankets. “I’ll stop by tomorrow, alright? Maybe try to sneak you in a few Chocolate Frogs?”


Tonks paused, biting her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Swallowing hard, she drew a shaky breath. “Tomorrow then.”


And with that, she headed out the door.


++++


“Hello, Harry, Ginny,” Nathan said, draping his cloak over the back of the chair in between the beds. Folding his hands over his chest, he began to pace, his eyes traveling from Ginny to Harry and back again. He knew the answer was there. He knew it was right before his eyes. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.


“Anna wanted to come, but she’s not allowed up right now. Her Healer has promised her that if she behaved herself, she might be able to venture down to the Great Hall next week. She really wants to come and visit, but quiet frankly, I’m hoping you come visit her.”


Nathan walked from the door to the windows and turned. “I — I wanted you to know that you did a stupendous job. I know that might sound rather strange, considering you’re in here, but you really did. The circlet is complete and it’s holding Voldemort’s spirit until you’re well enough to toss it into the veil. Moody is rather anxious for that to happen, obviously. We considered tossing it ourselves, but felt that because of the Prophecy, it really should be you, Harry. So, for right now, Moody has it under the most extreme guard you can imagine. I don’t even know all the intricacies of it,” Nathan admitted, shaking his head. “Probably better that way, too.”


“Professor McGonagall wanted me to let you know that while they are going ahead with a memorial service for Dumbledore, she will happily have something small and private arranged for you when you are feeling better. She thought you might enjoy that more anyway. Bill and Arthur went back down into the tunnels after it was over. It took him a little time, because of the cave-in and all, but he found Dumbledore’s body and brought him up.” Nathan cleared his throat and kept pacing. “They’ll be doing the — the ceremony this weekend.”


“Dumbledore was very proud of you — both of you, but especially you, Harry. Earlier this year, he told me you reminded him of me when I came to Hogwarts,” Nathan stopped at the foot of Harry’s bed for a moment. “I don’t know how you feel about that, but I took it as a great compliment,” he said softly, “to be likened to you, Harry.”


Nathan turned back to his path and continued up the room, his eyes on the beds. At the window, he turned. As the shadows fell and the sky darkened outside, Nathan continued to pace, his mind racing.


He had stolen away from the castle tonight in hopes of having some time to think. He knew the Healers were missing something. Something simple and easy. In between Anna and the baby, Dumbledore and the circlet, then of course, classes which had continued, he hadn’t been able to get here physically, but his mind certainly had never strayed far from this room. He pushed away the guilt that threatened to stop the thought process again and kept moving.


His mother had written in her journal about Mediators healing themselves. Ginny had done that before — receding into herself to heal. That process might explain why Ginny had not improved outwardly, but not Harry. Even then, Ginny would show improvement over time and that wasn’t happening…no, something was missing that was keeping them from improving.


“Professor Borgin?” Hermione’s voice broke through his thoughts. He stopped and looked over his shoulder toward the door.


“Hermione, what are you doing here? Oh, and Ron, too,” Nathan nodded.


“Professor McGonagall gave us a Portkey to come visit,” Hermione answered. “Are we interrupting?”


“No, no, come on in,” Nathan waved. “To be honest, I’m rather glad of the company.”


“Yeah,” Ron nodded and sat in the chair between the beds.


Hermione perched on the end of Harry’s bed and looked at his face with concern. “Still no change?”


Nathan shook his head.


“Do the Healers know anything more?” she asked.


Nathan shook his head again. “I keep going over it in my mind. The spell, the drain on their magic — it just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense,” Nathan argued out loud as he walked, “I mean, the symptoms aren’t all that uncommon.”


“The spell was, though,” Hermione noted.


“I know,” Nathan agreed, “but I think there’s more to it than that.”


“Could it be something in them?” Ron wrinkled his forehead.


“You mean, something in them not letting them heal?” Hermione looked at Ron in confusion.


Nathan stopped still, his spine straightening, his eyes widening. He pinned Ron with his stare and spoke slowly. ““Or something not in them letting them heal.”


“What?” Hermione asked impatiently and hopped off the end of Harry’s bed.


“Ron, you’re brilliant,” Nathan laughed. “Merlin, it was right in front of us!”


“I am?” Ron asked. He looked from Nathan to Hermione who was staring at him in annoyed confusion, then to Harry and Ginny. They looked…uncomfortable. They never looked “uncomfortable” when he saw them together because…


Ron groaned, his nose wrinkling, his mouth scrunching up as if he’d just eaten something rather distasteful. Nathan threw back his head and laughed. Ron pushed himself out of the chair and dragged it out of the way.


Nathan gave Ginny’s bed a shove until it touched Harry’s. Carefully, he reached out for her bonding hand and placed it gently in Harry’s.


“Oh,” Hermione whispered. “Of course.”


“So simple,” Nathan said softly, as he picked up his cloak from the end of Harry’s bed and stepped back. “Come on, you two, let’s leave them be. They have some healing to do.”


Nathan ushered a reluctant Hermione and a rather relieved looking Ron out of Harry and Ginny’s room and into the waiting room across the hall.


“Professor Borgin, will they be alright now?” Hermione asked.


“I think so,” Nathan said, glancing over his shoulder through the misted glass of the window in the door. “No, I know so. Come on, you need to get back to school and I need to go tell your Mum and Dad, Ron, and then figure out how to keep your mum from barreling in here tonight.”


“Shouldn’t we tell a Healer?” Hermione asked.


“No, I think we just need to let them be for a bit,” Nathan grinned at a rather green looking Ron. “Ron? Are you alright?”


Ron sighed heavily and nodded. “It’s just — it’s — “


Nathan chuckled and winked at Hermione. “You know, I hear Hagrid has some wonderful remedies for a sour stomach. Perhaps you should stop by and see him when you get back?”


+++++


It was subtle at first, like dawn. The color crept back into the ribbons, weak and watery but determined. As the love found its way, it began to strengthen the strands and fill in the gaps. The pastel shades were replaced with deepening hues. Magic began to flow along the lengths, backward and forward, from one heart to its mate.


+++++


The room glowed.


When she would retell the story to apprentice Healers years from now, Healer Meyers would continue to swear that the room glowed. It was past midnight. The shifts had changed at ten. She was making her rounds for the first time that evening. According to the report she received at the hand-off, there had been no change in Mr. Potter or Miss Weasley’s health, and since none of the alarm spells had gone off, she had left them until last. As she stood in the doorway she wondered if she had made a mistake in doing that.


Healers weren’t supposed to form attachments to patients. It wasn’t professional. But Healer Meyers couldn’t help herself. Harry and Ginny reminded her of her own children, long since grown and gone. Every time she looked at them, she thanked Merlin she had never had to go through what Molly and Arthur Weasley were going through. For that, she found herself giving Harry and Ginny a little something extra, a little more of herself.


Quietly, she tip toed to the end of the beds and let out a sharp little gasp. They were pushed together. More than that, the two young people in the beds — well, they were all snuggled up together. Healer Meyers looked nervously around the room to see if anyone was there. Carefully, she crept to the side of Ginny’s bed and leaned in.


There was color in Ginny’s cheeks.


Healer Meyers popped her head up and looked at Harry.


There was color in his cheeks, too.


Healer Meyers felt steady, deep healing breathing on her cheek.


She felt deep, penetrating, healing warmth coming from the two bodies wrapped up in each other in the bed.


She looked up and down the spooned pair, her eyes stopping on their joined hands. Harry’s hand covered Ginny’s smaller one, their fingers entwined for all time.


Healer Meyers smiled the smile of an experienced Healer who knew a good thing when she saw it.


Humming under her breath, Healer Meyers adjusted the blankets over Harry and Ginny. Silently closing the door behind her, she placed a privacy charm on the room. No need for anyone to interrupt this room this evening. Things seemed to be working out fine on their own.


+++++


A/N — One of my favorites. I hope you enjoyed it, too.

My thanks to wvchemteach who pushed it back and helped make it better and to Anya who was up at 2 AM reading it. I owe you both!

At least one more chapter to go, but alas, it is a WIP. It will up up as soon as possible, I promise!


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