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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: 198313; Chapter Total: 9142 |
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Disclaimer — I do not own nor profit monetarily from the Harry Potter world. Catarina stood in front of her open wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear. She was not normally a person hung up on convention. She just hadn’t shared a home with anyone besides the odd cat for many years, and no cat she had ever lived with cared a whisker about what she wore for breakfast. She sighed and then chuckled. She was working herself into a twit because she desperately wanted to make a good impression on her two young guests. Harry and Ginny were sleeping downstairs. In the back of her mind, she knew they would probably share the cat’s feelings and not give a care as to what she wore, as long as she didn’t appear at the breakfast table naked. Tapping her toe on the floor, Catarina folded her arms across her chest and huffed in frustration. Chehalis, her black and white tabby cat, rubbed against her bare ankles, reminding her she needed to get a move on. There were appetites to feed. “I know, I know,” Catarina said, bending down to scratch the cat behind his ears. “At my age, I shouldn’t care about these things. I should just go about my business and let everyone chalk my eccentricities up to old age.” Chehalis meowed his agreement and sat down, peering up at her with his greenish-gold almond shaped eyes, tapping the end of his tail on the floor. “So, what about this?” Catarina asked, reaching in to grab her bathrobe. “Oh, listen to me. I’ve got actual human company and here I am[,] discussing wardrobe choices with a feline.” Chehalis, realizing he had been snubbed, stood up, showed Catarina his tail, and hopped up on the bed. Chucking at herself and her cat, Catarina pulled the bathrobe on over her nightdress. Tying it shut, she slipped on her slippers and headed down to the kitchen to put the kettle on. They had arrived at Catarina’s cottage late last night. Before leaving the Burrow, Dumbledore had done his best to reassure Molly and Arthur that Ginny and Harry would be as safe as possible. He had also mentioned, that as soon as it was safe, a guest or two might be allowed a visit. And, as soon as the bonding was completed, the teenagers would be able to return to the Burrow, hopefully before the beginning of term. A half hour after making their way back to the Burrow with Nathan, Harry and Ginny, pale but determined, appeared in the kitchen, bags in hand. Hermione, her eyes bright with tears, blinked at them. Ron, his arms resting on the table, hands clasped in front of him, refused to meet their gazes. Arthur stood up and walked around the table. Ginny smiled weakly at her dad, who kissed her on the forehead before enveloping her in a hug. Still holding Ginny, Arthur met Harry’s gaze over the top of her head and stretched out his hand. Harry took it and shook it firmly, a promise to take care of Ginny shining in his eyes. Arthur nodded in silent response before reluctantly letting go of Ginny. Ginny looked across the table to her mother, her heart aching at the expression on her mum’s face, a mixture of fear, anger and heartbreak. Ginny wanted to comfort her, to assure her this was the right thing to do. But all that kept running through her mind was, ‘I’m not Percy,’ and Ginny didn’t think her mum wanted to hear that at the moment. Instead, Ginny walked over, leaned down and placed a kiss on her mum’s cheek, whispering, “We’ll be home soon. I love you, Mum,” before turning back toward Harry. Hermione, sniffling and wiping tears away with the back of her hands, crushed both of them to her. She whispered to Ginny to study hard; to Harry, she mumbled into his jumper to be supportive and pay attention. Looking at Ron’s downcast eyes over the top of Hermione’s head, Harry sighed. He hated leaving his and Ron’s friendship in this state, but he wasn’t sure anything he would say at this point in time would change Ron’s mind. Ron was going to have to work this out on his own. Detangling himself from Hermione’s hug, Harry asked her if she would mind looking after Hedwig until he returned. He had a feeling that a snowy white owl might attract some attention, no matter where they were headed. Dumbledore charmed a wooden spoon to act as a Portkey and gave it to Catarina. Harry and Ginny were reaching out for it when the scrape of a chair and Molly’s cry broke the silence. Wrapping her arms around both of them, Molly wept openly on their shoulders, telling them she loved them and admonishing them to behave. Harry and Ginny hugged her back, promising her they would. Arthur finally stepped forward, placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders, slowly pulling her back so she could lean on his chest, as she let go. Catarina nodded solemnly at Arthur and Molly and then held out the wooden spoon to Harry and Ginny. The three of them felt the familiar tug behind their navels as the Portkey activated, the Burrow becoming a blur, their feet landing on the cool, damp grass outside of a small two story cottage. It was too dark to see much as Catarina ushered her charges through the front door. After showing Ginny to the guest room and apologizing to Harry for putting him on the sofa in the small sitting room off the kitchen, she wished them sweet dreams and went to bed herself. Catarina had lain awake watching the shadows on her ceiling for quite a while. It had been less than a week since the owl had landed on the window sill above her sink. Dumbledore wanted the bond to take place before the beginning of term, which meant Ginny had a month to do something that took some Mediators years to learn. Feeling Chehalis’ weight land silently on the bed, Catarina had jumped, startled out of her musings, and her heart racing. The cat padded its way up to her pillow, curling himself up, and leaned leaning against Catarina, who absentmindedly scratched him under his chin. Chehalis’ rhythmic purring finally lulled her into a fitful sleep. Now, walking down the narrow staircase that led from her bedroom on the second floor to the back of the house, Catarina looked over the railing to see the spare bedroom door open. Stepping down off the last step, Catarina gently pushed on the door. Ginny’s bag lay open on top of the quilt Catarina had folded back last night and the bed did not look slept in. Sighing, she wondered if she was going to have to set some ground rules for night time visiting as she walked down the short hallway that led to the kitchen, which was empty, too. Stepping quietly into the sitting room adjacent to the kitchen, Catarina scanned the room for her two charges. The overstuffed olive colored sofa was empty. Harry’s bag sat next to it, unopened on the floor. Taking another step into the room, she placed her hand on the back of the high backed reading chair facing the fireplace, gasping in alarm as her hand brushed against something soft. Breathing rapidly, she tentatively looked down. Fast asleep and still fully dressed from last night, Ginny was leaning against Harry’s shoulder, her cheek resting on one of her hands which was curled under her chin. Her other hand was clutching tightly to Harry’s jumper. Covered with the quilt Catarina had brought for him to sleep under, Harry had his arms circled around her, his legs stretched out on the footstool in front of the chair, his head resting against Ginny’s. In the dim morning light filtering through her windows, Catarina could see the tear tracks running down Ginny’s cheeks. Her heart aching, Catarina stepped quietly backwards into the kitchen, stopping for a moment to decide the best course of action. If she had been in their shoes, she was pretty confident the last thing she would have wanted was to be woken up by some old batty witch she barely knew after such a long night. No, she would want an opportunity to collect and compose herself. Turning around, she walked stealthily to the back stairs and climbed back up to her room. Chehalis was curled up in the warm spot his mistress had left vacant. The look of annoyance at the prospect of giving up his sleeping spot was nothing compared to the incredulous glare he sent her way as Catarina loudly stomped on her floor. When hearing no signs of movement downstairs, Catarina bent her knees and jumped up and down, up and down, the mirror on the wall rattling, the water pitcher on her nightstand sloshing. Breathing hard, she stopped and listened again. Smiling as she heard the kitchen floorboards creak, she tightened the ties of her robe, waited a minute, and then headed back downstairs. ++++ The smell of something salty and fried led Harry by the nose to the kitchen. Ginny was already sitting at the table, hair damp from her shower, cheeks pink from the steam. Her hands were wrapped around a mug of tea. Harry grinned at her as he sat down next to her. Reaching out, he gently pried one of her hands from the mug and wrapped it in his, resting it on his knee. When Ginny smiled back at him, he was relieved to see her eyes full of determination. When their feet had hit the cool, dewy grass last night, Catarina smiled tentatively and welcomed them to her home. Catarina’s hesitant manner as she had ushered them inside and given them a quick tour calmed Harry as he realized she had not been expecting to bring guests home with her on her return. The way she had apologized as she handed Harry a down pillow resting on top of a faded quilt assured him this was as much a surprise to her as it was to them. Left alone, Harry placed his bag by the sofa and sat down in the high backed chair, his arms wrapped around the pillow and quilt, staring at the fire. He listened to Catarina’s footfalls up the back stairs and the closing of her bedroom door. He jumped when he heard Ginny’s whisper. “Harry?” Startled, he whipped around to see Ginny standing in the entryway to the kitchen, the tears trailing down her cheeks. Dropping the pillow and quilt, he reached out his arms to her. Ginny lunged forward, curling up into a ball in his lap. He felt the frustration and exhaustion she had been holding back pour out of her in silent, wracking sobs. Harry wrapped his arms around her, trying to soak up her emotion, to give her back some of the solace she always managed to give him. No matter how committed she was to this, Harry realized the confrontation in the kitchen of the Burrow along with the sheer act of walking away from her family had taken its toll. It was enough to shake anyone’s foundation. As Ginny’s tears turned to shuddering breaths, Harry reached down and pulled the quilt up, propping his legs up on the footstool in front of him and snuggling into the blankets’ warmth. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of Ginny’s head, Harry felt her relax into him. “Harry?” Ginny whispered. “Yeah?” “I love you.” Harry swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. “I love you, too, Ginny,” he whispered back, resting his forehead on her shoulder. Listening as her breathing calmed, becoming deep and even, Harry closed his eyes. His last thought before sleep claimed him was he would do whatever it took in order keep his silent promise to Arthur Weasley. “Good morning, Harry,” Catarina smiled brightly, bringing him out of his memories. “Tea?” “Uh, yeah, thanks,” Harry said, finding himself smiling back. Catarina placed a grey speckled ceramic mug in front of him and poured hot water from an old tin tea kettle over the tea bag inside it. Setting the kettle back over the gas flame, she carried over two plates of eggs and potatoes. After serving her guests, Catarina sat down across from Harry and Ginny, her hands wrapped around her mug. Reaching for a piece of bacon from the platter in the middle on the table, Catarina smiled, feeling her heart warm as she watched Harry scoop up a bite of eggs and eat it with relish. It had been a long time since she had had a growing boy to feed, and judging, by the speed the food was disappearing from his plate, she was going to need to fill her pantry. “Have you lived here by yourself for a while?” Harry asked, pushing the last bite of eggs onto his fork with a piece of toast. “Mmmm,” answered Catarina, “a while.” “Why?” asked Ginny. Catarina took a deep breath. “Well, when I left Nathan’s father, I needed to get away. I spent some time in London, but then the big city got to be too much for me, and I opted for the country. Some might think I went from one end of the spectrum to the other…but I like it.” Catarina drained her tea and pushed her chair back. She carried her mug to the sink and swirled water around inside it, then dumped it out and set it down. Turning around, she smiled at her guests. “So, what would the two of you like to do today?” she asked. Ginny and Harry looked at each other briefly in surprise and then turned to Catarina. “What do you mean?” Ginny asked. “Shouldn’t we get started?” Catarina smiled. “Yes, we should. However, I need to do a bit of planning. When Nathan wrote me, he did not mention exactly what he needed my help with. That being said, I’m not really prepared to teach you what you need to know just yet. I need today to gather the necessary texts and review the process before I can aid you in the best way possible. “In the meantime,” Catarina continued, “I might suggest you two do a little exploring. The actual Blood Bonding needs to take place somewhere that speaks to you, a place you both feel a connection to. The reason behind this is that you will be comfortable there in each other’s presence. Normally, this is not a problem since the ceremony usually takes place closer to home, but in your case…well, things are different,” Catarina finished, picking up a dishcloth and carrying it back to the table. Resting her hands on the back of her chair, Catarina looked from Ginny to Harry and back again. Sighing, she sat back down and propped her elbows on the table. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “For what?” Ginny asked. “For all of this,” Catarina said, waving the dishcloth in the air. Water droplets sailed through the air, several splattering across Harry’s glasses. Blinking, Harry reached up and slipped them off, wiping the spots off on his t-shirt. Catarina looked at him helplessly. “For that,” she said pointing at Harry’s newly dried glasses. “For dragging you off in the middle of the night from your home, from your family. For dropping into your life unannounced and putting you through this. For — for you having to do this in the first place,” she finished, dropping her hands, dishcloth and all, into her lap. “It’s not fair,’ she said quietly. Harry studied his host, her concerned look, her slumped shoulders, her furrowed brow. There was something about her - her tone of voice, her saddened eyes, the tilt of her head - that made him believe she was sincere. He got the sense that she had been through something similar and had the scars to prove it. “But there isn’t anything we can do about this now, so let’s get started.” Catarina put her palms down on the table and pushed herself up. “You two, go, explore, enjoy. Breathe deep the fresh air. Don’t pressure yourself to find your place. It will find you. As long as you see the cottage, you will be safe,” she added, a stern look on her face. Ginny nodded and pushed her chair back. Picking up her and Harry’s breakfast plates, she carried them to the sink. “I’ll do the dishes,” Catarina said, waving Ginny away and taking the mugs from Harry. “Go! I will be in the study determining our best course of action. After lunch, I will have you two stay here while I pop to the shops.” “Shops?” Ginny asked. What little she had gleaned from looking out the windows, there was not a shop, a home, a bird’s nest or any other type of habitation in eyesight, let alone earshot. “Yes, shops,” Catarina said. “We all need to eat and my pantry’s rather empty.” “How do you get to the shops?” Harry asked. He had yet to see Catarina use any magic. Looking around the kitchen, he realized that, while the cottage had indoor plumbing, that was where the Muggle modernizations seemed to have stopped. He noticed the matches sitting on the cupboard that Catarina must have used to light the gas stove and had seen the wood burning heater by the back door; and there was no telephone or radio, just oil lamps for light and books for entertainment - lots and lots of books. “Bicycle,” she answered. “Despite the fact that Muggles rarely pay attention enough to notice magic, I just can’t Apparate into the frozen food section at the Shop-n-Save.” Harry grinned. He could just imagine Aunt Petunia opening the door to the freezer for a meat pie and suddenly be staring at someone who hadn’t been on the other side a moment before. Catarina saw the smile and caught her breath. It was the same type of smile Nathan used to have when they shared a joke. Swallowing, she turned toward the sink, reaching down to pick up a dirty mug and the scrubber. This was not the time or place for her regrets and memories. Vigorously scrubbing the tea stains out of the inside of the mug, it took her a minute to realize Harry was staring at her. “Is something wrong?” she asked, her voice catching a touch. “No! No,” Harry repeated. “I just figured you’d use magic to do your dishes like Mrs. Weasley does.” Catarina looked down at her soapy hands holding the mug and scrubber and chuckled. Meeting Harry’s eyes, she shrugged her shoulders. “I have done everything the Muggle way for so long, I have forgotten there was another way. Besides, I’ve always found doing dishes rather therapeutic. You can relieve quite a bit of stress when scrubbing the burnt bits out of the bottom of a pot,” she said smiling. “Now, you two, go. The sun is up. You should be out in it.” Harry smiled at Catarina and turned to Ginny, holding out his hand. Ginny reached for it and let him lead her out the front door into the sunshine. Catarina watched the two teenagers stop about twenty feet from the front porch and turn to look at the cottage. What do they see? she wondered. She liked these two. They were young and bright and powerful. All anyone had to do was be in the same room with them for ten minutes to feel the power roll of them. Resting the last plate in the drying rack, Catarina dried her hands on the dishtowel hanging on a hook on the side of the kitchen cupboard. Glancing out the window again, she saw Ginny stand on her tip toes to give Harry a quick kiss. She watched them pull apart and smile into each others’ eyes. Powerful and deeply in love. She would need to keep that in mind while she worked with Ginny. She didn’t want anything to go wrong because she had underestimated the situation. Turning away from the window, Catarina passed through the sitting room and pushed open a double set of French doors that hid her office. She sneezed as the dust poofed in the swoosh of air let in by the opening of the doors. She made a mental note to dust in here later. Then she grinned. She had made the same mental note for the past month. But this time, she could charm the dust cloth so perhaps she might actually carry through with the task. The office was a square shaped room. Three of the four walls were floor to ceiling bookshelves, crammed full of bound volumes. Sheets of parchment filled with scribbled notes were tucked here and there in between the books. Photographs of a young boy smiling and waving at her sat on some shelves; other shelves held photos of the same boy in a Hogwarts uniform in various stages of maturity. One of the shelves held a small rosewood box with a keyhole in the front. Catarina’s desk faced the French doors. A picture window behind the desk let in the morning sun which was sending rainbows across the desk and floor. Catarina breathed deep and sneezed again. Grinning, she went straight to her bookshelves and started pulling out texts, flipping them open, stacking some on the corner of her desk, replacing others. She then opened the trunk that sat under the window and started digging through the books in it, too. She glanced briefly at the bottom of the chest. Satisfied she had found what she needed, Catarina sat down at her desk and pulled the books toward her. Looking at the wall of knowledge in front of her, Catarina felt her eyes begin burn; she knew it was not from the dust. A tear trickled down her cheek. Many, many years ago, she had been in Ginny’s shoes. Shaking her head and wiping her damp cheek with the back of her hand, Catarina chose a title and flipped it open. Opening her desk drawer, she pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began to take notes. ++++ Spreading her arms, Ginny soaked up the brightness of the sun, twirling around, savoring the summer air that still held a touch of early morning dampness. She twirled until she was dizzy, stopping to catch her breath and balance. Her hands on her knees to steady herself, she smiled up at Harry. “So,” Ginny said, straightening up. “Where should we go?” Shielding his eyes from the sun, Harry gazed over the landscape. Catarina’s cottage sat on top of a hill, looking down on valley surrounded by larger rolling green hills. The higher the hill, the more rocks could be seen, stuck out at odd angles as if they had been shoved in when the hill was still a soft pile of malleable dirt. The last of the summer mist the sun had yet to burn off clung to the trees on their tops. The little one lane road that led to the cottage wound its way through the valley, disappearing within clumps of trees only to appear again on the other side, boarded by a stone wall that kept it on course. Good fences make good neighbors, Harry thought, except there wasn’t a neighbor to be seen, animal or human. Holding his hand out, Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Pick a hill.” Giggling, Ginny took his hand and stood on her toes and to give him a kiss. “Alright,” she said. “I pick…that one!” “Alright, that one,” Harry nodded, pulling her to his side. ++++ Harry and Ginny lay on the ground, watching the clouds drift through the bright blue sky. After leaving the cottage, they had spent a good hour, walking across the hills, always careful to keep the cottage in sight. They hadn’t spoken much, each lost in his or her thoughts. Finding a clear spot on a slope, Ginny had sat down and pulled her knees up to her chin. Harry sat down next to her and followed her gaze to Catarina’s cottage. Harry contemplated the two story stone structure. It certainly was more Muggle looking than the Burrow. For starters, the small upstairs sat on top of the downstairs, not off to one side. Its front porch was painted white. Harry could barely make out the wooden rocker sitting on it or the flower pots filled with purple and yellow pansies that dotted the three front steps. The faded blue shutters hung next to the thick glass windows. There was a small vegetable garden at the back, surrounded by a small stone wall similar to the one lining the roads. There were very few trees about the cottage itself, but more in the valley. Harry thought that odd, but then again, he had no real clue where they were. Ginny lay back in the grass, scooting next to Harry and resting her head on his bent elbow. “We should be looking for our place,” she murmured. Harry closed his eyes, the warm sun making him drowsy. “Hmmm….no — no, we shouldn’t,” Ginny contradicted herself, letting the sun close her eyes and warm her soul. “Catarina said our place would find us.” Harry sucked in his breath. He wondered if Ginny realized she was playing with the bottom hem of his t-shirt, her fingers brushing against his bare skin. He winced as her knuckle brushed his side. He looked back up at the clouds, willing himself to think of anything but her hands on his bare skin. He wasn’t sure if he let out a sigh of relief or a groan of frustration when she dropped the hem of his shirt and rested her hand in the grass. “Harry? Do you ever think of what will happen after…after it’s all over?” Harry swallowed and thought for a moment. He didn’t used to think about it. When he had learned of the prophecy, his energies, mental and physical, had all been focused on survival. But since he had been going out with Ginny, things had changed. It wasn’t that he was less focused on survival, but more that survival seemed an achievable goal. Sure, Voledmort was a huge obstacle, but he was beginning to see around the obstacle to what awaited him on the other side. And he liked what he saw. “Yeah,” he answered quietly, reaching down to take Ginny’s hand. “Yeah, I think about it.” “What do you see?” Harry took a deep breath and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Lots of red headed kids,” he answered, his cheeks flushing red. What he had just admitted was the honest truth. Harry noticed that Ginny had gone absolutely still next to him. He frantically wondered if he should say something. Ginny was afraid to move, because moving meant changing this perfect moment. She suddenly understood what it meant to have your heart ache because you loved someone so much. Her eyes on the clouds, she could feel her smile spread from ear to ear. “You know,” she said slowly, “they say you should marry your best friend. That means you’ll have to fight Hermione for Ron, that is, if he’ll say ye-“ She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as Harry rolled on top of her. “Even if he decides to talk to me again,” he said, his nose touching hers, “I don’t think I’ll be marrying Ron.” “No, I suppose not,” she said breathlessly, before she wasn’t able to say anything else for a very long time. ++++ “So, Ginny, while I’m gone, I have a few notes I want you to review,” Catarina commented, sliding a stack of parchment across the table. Ginny pushed her half eaten sandwich away and pulled the parchment toward her. Breathing deep, she scanned the neat, tidy handwriting. “Now,” Catarina continued, “I still need to do a little more revising, but that should get you started.” “Is there anything I should do?” Harry asked, his eyes on Ginny, a half smile on his face. Ginny was reading intently, her lips moving slightly as she trailed her finger down the page. “Well, Harry, to be honest, there isn’t much for you to do presently. A Blood Bonding is similar to becoming pregnant. The wizard gets to be there for the fun, but the witch has to carry the burden,” Catarina said, biting the inside of her cheek as Harry choked on the gulp of lemonade he had just taken. “I’ve always had a certain yearning to be a seahorse, for that reason,” Catarina commented as she stood up to clear her lunch dishes. “Right,” Harry answered, his face flushed. “Ginny, jot down any questions you might have and we can go over it when I return,” Catarina said, taking a shopping basket down from the hook on the back of the door. “Harry, why don’t you unpack, or feel free to borrow a book from my office? I’ll be back in a hour or so.” Ginny waved absentmindedly from the table as the screen door slammed behind her. Harry stood up and walked to the door, watching Catarina as she walked around the corner of the cottage. A minute later, she passed by the front door on an old brown bicycle, her salt and pepper hair tied back in a scarf, oversized sunglasses shading her eyes. She rang a small bell on her handlebars as she entered the road. Ginny stood up from the table, her eyes focused on the notes in front of her. “I think I’ll sit on the porch to read,” she said, her hand reaching out slowly for the door handle. Harry reached for the door. “Allow me,” he joked. Ginny smiled briefly and continued reading as she walked onto the porch. Harry’s eyes followed her as she sat down in the wooden rocker, his spirits buoyed by watching her become engrossed in her subject. Harry gently closed the door. Gazing around the kitchen, he realized he had some time on his hands. Deciding he could start by throwing his clothes in the trunk Catarina had shown him, he headed to the sitting room. Opening his bag, Harry scooped out his clothes and opened the lid of the trunk. Dropping them in, he closed the lid of the trunk and glanced at his watch. Two minutes down. Picking up his bag, Harry ran his hand around the bottom to make sure he had not left anything inside. As his fingers grasped at nothing, he swore. He had left Ginny’s birthday presents behind. In their rush to leave last night, Harry had left all of the books with all of their notes, bookmarks and carefully chosen spells he had spent the past few weeks gathering for Ginny in the wardrobe in the twins’ bedroom. He threw the bag down in frustration and plopped down on the sofa. He had no idea how long they would be here. And he had to have something, something special for Ginny. Harry sighed. Well, at least he had something to do now. ++++ “So, what do you think?” Catarina asked, leaning against the railing of the front porch. “You’re back!” Ginny exclaimed, setting the parchment aside and unfolding her legs from under her. Stretching, she was surprised to see the afternoon sun waning. “How long have I been reading?” “A while,” Catarina smiled. “It’s fascinating,” Ginny said, smiling, her eyes dancing with excitement. “It’s hard work,” Catarina cautioned. “I know. But to think, I can do that…I will have the ability to influence, to heal…” Ginny trailed off, her eyes focused on her hands. “Well, before you can do that, you need to learn yourself. Tomorrow, you will start by learning your own blood flow.” Ginny looked up surprised. “Learn myself?” Catarina nodded. “In order to be of any good to Harry, you need to be good to yourself. You need to be your own Mediator before you can be his. You do not want to lose yourself in your bond. If you lose yourself in the bond, your strength leaves you. When your strength leaves you, you are powerless and therefore useless to yourself,” Catarina finished seriously. “Is that what happened to you?” Ginny asked quietly. “It is what happened to a younger version of me,” Catarina answered pushing herself off the railing. Reaching to open the door, she looked over her shoulder at Ginny. “I will not let that happen to you.” ++++ “Harry?” Har ry turned his head on his pillow at the sound of Ginny’s whisper. “Yeah?” Ginny smiled and tip toed over to the davenport, kneeling in front of it. “I just wanted to wish you good night,” she said, brushing the hair off his forehead, leaning forward to brush her lips against his. Standing up, she walked back toward the kitchen. “Hey, Gin?” “Yeah?” “What did you think?” “Oh, Harry!” she exclaimed quietly, returning to the couch and dropping to her knees again. “It’s amazing! I hate to sound like Hermione, but I think I’m going to go read some more before I turn out my light!” Harry grinned sleepily at Ginny’s excitement. “Don’t stay up too late,” he admonished. “I won’t,” she assured, giving him another quick kiss. “Good night, Harry. I love you!” “ ‘Night, Gin. I love you, too.” ++++ Chehalis jumped on the desk in the office, still cluttered with open books and rolls of parchment filled with notes. Padding softly over, he nudged Catarina’s hand holding her quill with his head. “Chehalis!” she exclaimed as her quill went skating two inches in the opposite direction of her train of thought. “Really! What was that for?” Glancing up at the clock on her desk, she sighed. “Oh, bedtime. Right. Well, are Harry and Ginny settled?” she asked, putting down her quill and scratching the cat behind the ears. Chehalis arched his shoulders as if to say, Like I care, before spreading out on a stray piece of parchment like a long, furry paperweight. Catarina pushed her chair back and stood up, resting her hands on her lower back and arching backwards, stretching her achy back muscles. Turning back to her desk, Catarina started closing the opened books and shuffling the parchment into organized piles. Picking up her quill, she set it in the holder. Quills and parchment were two things she had never given up for the Muggle equivalent. There was no texture or imperfections in bleached white paper; no connection to life in a ball point pen. Catarina picked up the top sheet of parchment on the pile in front of her. Nathan had told her the Blood Bonding was needed to avoid Voldemort being able to use their blood for an immortality spell. Bartholomew had messed around with immortality and blood, continually asking her questions about things such as Blood Bonding. She had not thought to ask Nathan the specifics of this particular spell, nor had he had the opportunity to go further into it. Shrugging her shoulders, she admonished herself for needless worry. It’s probably nothing, she assured her subconscious, setting the parchment back down. Quietly closing the doors to her office behind her, she peeked at Harry who was sleeping soundly on the sofa. Watching him, she decided in the morning, she would send an owl to Nathan. She wanted to make sure she had all her bases covered. +++++ A/N — In case you're wondering, the cat's name Chehalis (shuh - hay - lis) is from a town in Washington. When we moved here, we opened the state map and decided the state was a plethera of good pet names. Our children are happy we stopped with the cat and dog. :) An interesting question came my way — what does Ginny get out of performing a Blood Bonding? Besides Voldemort not being able to use her blood for an immortality spell and this being her way to support the war effort (by strengthening Harry), it does seem rather one sided. So I’ve been driving around all day trying to figure out why in my mind it was natural for Ginny to do this. I came to the conclusion, that yes, while something tangible may come out of this for her, this is her gift to Harry. We all do things for our significant others that we expect nothing in return for. It’s our gift to them because it will help them or make them happy or simply support them. We do it because we love them. Deep down, I have simply believed all along Ginny would do this because she loved Harry. Anything else my imagination is currently working on is icing (and it is working, Been Reading!). My thanks again to my betas, pavartipatil and wvchemteach. Where would this story be without you? And welcome to Kissmegrint - what were you thinking? :) |
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