Back Stage Pass: Ginny's Story
Chapter 1: An Epiphany
You know how people claim they see a while light when they've had a near death experience. Some of them claim it was heaven they were seeing. Sometimes that light has inspired them so much so, that they feel like a new person like their whole life has taken a whole turn in the other direction from where it was going before. The difference between those people and me, well, I was awake for my moment in the light. I remember what it was like. It wasn't heaven I was seeing. It was life. It wasn't a pretty experience.
9 Months earlier.
I think it all started when Harry came back from Canada. He was visited an old friend of his Godfathers there for about a month. Sightseeing he put it as. I guess it was just something he needed to do.
We did speak about what he did there, but it was only general stuff like the food was great and the weather was completely different than he expected it to be. I did try once to get him to tell me more and he got this look on his face like he was dying a little on the inside. So I dropped the subject. I figured if he wanted to talk to me about it he would. Except he never would.
Things got weirder after that. Once we could talk until our ears bled; now Harry would only talk to me if I asked him anything. It made me feel like the nagging girlfriend. I hated it.
Thankfully our physical relationship didn't take a hit when Harry came back. Oh! No! It was hot and hard and mind numbingly spectacular. Though after the sex, he would revert back to his silence.
It didn't help much that his training was getting harder making him far too tired to do much of anything else besides eat, sleep and -the occasional- fuck. Or the fact that I lost my job.
Three weeks into November -just when things usually picked up in my department- everyone received an owl. On the rare occurrence that this happens it means someone's planning an office party to commemorate a secured company contract. (My department handled the acceptance of building permits, land permits, housing permits, etc., for the whole of the population of British wizards in England.) This time though, it was a whole department, not just a selected area of the department. Which meant bad news.
So at the end of November as the department assembled in one of the ministries meeting rooms on the third floor, all our managers and department heads (there's four) stood in the centre of the room watching as we all came in and took our seats. Sally, the annoying blond who works in my department, was blabbing to me about how Harold, our manager, told her over the weekend that the department was going to be getting a huge face lift come the new year. It never occurred to her to ask him HOW big that face lift was going to be.
Apparently it would cost the jobs of half the department's staff, including mine and Sally's. She wasn't too happy about that. Poor Harold.
I don't remember going home right after that, only the nasty hangover I had the next day and the lack of Harry to comfort me through it. Two days later my mum sent me an owl with her condolences. She wanted me to come over for a pity dinner that night. I never went. I had really liked my job. Even if it was a stupid place to start working at.
Maybe Hermione was right and I should have gone to that quidditch tryout instead of to the ministry's open house. But hey, that's life for you.
So there I was unemployed just before the Christmas season and my "boyfriend" was passive-aggressively not talking to me unless spoken to. Life was just dandy. Yet somehow I managed to fulfill my family obligations of gifts, dinners, toddler watching and drinks. It was the same old things a normal person would have to deal with during the holidays, only I added a few new things to my list. Job hunting was one of them.
It was nice of Hermione to stealthily leave college brochures on my desk when I would go down to the kitchen for a second helping of tea. I would flip through them, but nothing seemed to really jump out and grab me. The librarianship degree sounded promising, but then I would think of Madam Pince who - as far as I knew - still worked at Hogwarts. The thought made me shiver and I placed it along with the others in the trash. I had no intention of become a bitter old maid with black teeth and large glasses eternally glued to the bridge of my nose. It did make me wonder if it was too late to see if I could go to a quidditch tryout. I was still really good at flying. But that would be option B if option A didn't turn up anything.
New Year's.
Ah, New Year's. I hate New Year's. Not because I think that marking the new year with getting as much liquor in your body before the strike of mid-night is stupid, but because it was the first of many red flags that for some reason I ignored.
Harry and I had made dinner reservations before this small party we were invited to go to with some friends. Ron and Hermione were meeting us there since they had made plans themselves as well that evening. It was supposed to be great, Harry and I alone for the first time in months that wasn't the house we shared together (with Ron and Hermione as well). I had secretly gone out to buy this silver one piece that I saw in the window of a muggle clothing store. It was the cutest cocktail dress and it called out to me. Buy me buy me. So I did.
"Are you sure Harry said that he was only going to be twenty minutes late?" I asked Ron from the doorway of the main floor bathroom. Ron was fixing his hair.
"Yeah, that's what he told me when I was leaving the office." They were apprenticing this term a bit early only because of how much they helped in the war. Special privileges for war heroes and all that tripe. I still think the ministry did all that just to cover their arses. "You should just meet him there. You did make reservations early right, so you have plenty of time."
I look over at the clock. We still had three hours before the party and dinner wasn't for another hour. I shrugged. We really did have time. "Yeah, you're right. I think I'm going to read for a bit, maybe Harry will be here by the time I'm finished."
He wasn't. Ron and Hermione left Grimmauld Place a half hour later when I decided to take a shower before getting dressed. Harry wasn't home when I got out of the shower. He still wasn't home when I finished getting ready. I was getting a little panicky, so I fire called Harry's office but no one was there. The secretary that happened to pop in to get last minute papers to file told me he had left already, though she couldn't tell me exactly how long ago he had left. So I decided to head to the restaurant and maybe I would meet Harry there. Before I left I pinned a note on the front door (you can't apparate into the house) so that Harry would know that I was going to go to the restaurant to meet him there.
An hour later while sitting at the restaurant having waited and waited and still no Harry, I decided to head over to the party early to see if Ron and Hermione could help me find him. I was worried. This had never happened before. EVER.
When I got there though… Let's just say I saw red. Harry. Oh perfect Harry, who could do no wrong was already at the party. He was chatting to the hostess -with the mostess- as if there wasn't a care in the world. I knew Ron and Hermione hadn't gotten there yet, the flat was an open floor plan that allowed you to see the whole space at once. It was a two level floor plan though. So I had to side step some other guests down a few steps to get to Harry and the breasty hostess.
I walked right up to him, still seeing red. He turned to me smiling as if he had never stood me up in a very crowded restaurant for the past hour. It happened in slow motion practically.
Neville spotted me as I walked over to Harry and was making his way over to say hi. He was in the process of say "Hi" and I was in the process of reaching my hand back to deliver the hardest slap of my life. *BAM* Harry's head whipped to the side from the force of my hand connecting squarely with the side of his face. Silence. The whole room was full of it. I wasn't. But I just didn't trust myself in front of that crowd of people. I turned and left.
As I was leaving Ron and Hermione were just coming down the hallway to the flat. They stopped in their tracks and I could register that Hermione was asking me something, but I brushed her off and just kept walking. When I turned the corner at the end of the hall I heard Neville's voice. Ron was demanding to know what happened. Harry would tell them, ; he talks to them more than me anyway.
When I got home, I threw my coat onto a chair in the kitchen, fished for a glass from the cupboard and then headed to the liquor cabinet for something hard to fill my glass. An hour later I heard attempted hushed yelling in the foyer. In my drunken state -I had at least half a bottle of 151 proof rum- I wandered over to the open door to hear what the conversation was all about. I wish I hadn't.
"How could you? You made those reservations!" Ron hissed.
"I know Ron." Harry sounded exhausted. Good. Let him suffer. He deserved it. I didn't.
"Then explain to me HOW you could have done something like that to MY sister?" Ron's voice got louder and I could hear Hermione shushing him before he continued. "Well?"
"Ron this isn't something we should be discussing in the foyer of the house." Ah, the voice of reason steps in. I could hear in Hermione's tone that she was pinching the bridge of her nose. She did that sometimes when she was trying to ward off a headache.
"No Hermione, I don't care! Harry hurt my sister and I deserve an explanation and so does my Ginny!" Ron's voice grew louder again.
"Ron. That's enough." Her tone was bordering on glacial.
"Thanks 'Mione."
There was a shuffling of feet as coats were removed. "Oh don't thank me Harry. Ron's right. Ginny does deserve an explanation and you better give it to her tonight." Pure fury accompanied those words and I couldn't help shudder.
"The thing is I can't." Harry's tone was past exhausted now and was into pleading, almost sad. I didn't care. He had no right being sad.
"What! Why not?" Ron piped in right away.
"It's complicated Ron."
There was more shuffling and I assumed that someone was moving over to sit on the bottom steps to upstairs. "Explain 'complicated'." Hermione was on a mission.
"It's something to do with them."
"Them?" Ron asked.
"Yes them." Harry continued.
"But I thought you were under contract." Hermione's tone was still angry but I could tell that she was claiming down. I wasn't happy about that. And what about the mysterious "them?"
"I am. But this year I have to be present at the ceremonies."
"And?" Ron asks… again.
"And Ron, those of us who only witness ceremonies suffer from side effects."
"Side effects? I don't remember you mentioning any of this before." Annoyance never sounded too good on Hermione, it made her seem nagging, not annoyed.
"No I didn't." Answered Harry.
"What are the side effects then?" It appeared to be Ron's night for asking questions.
Silence. No one moved, as if they were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Except there wasn't really a shoe dropping here, it was more like a house.
"Memory loss."
Another moment of silence.
"Oh Shit."
"Tell me about it."
I knew I was gaping when I heard Harry say those two simple words. How do you broach a subject like that? I didn't know how, and in my present state I didn't think it was such a good idea. So the next morning when I woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon, I kept my mouth shut and let Harry give me a half-assed excuse and I accepted it. I accepted all his excuses after that. For months I listened to him come up with more and more excuses. Most involved work and those I knew to be true -Ron was absent because of the same excuse several times- but the others, just didn't sound convincing enough.
March
I was at my limit. I never really thought about ending my relationship with Harry. I loved him and I always would. It was just that things were getting out of hand and I felt… used. Even Hermione was making excuses for Harry now. I needed a break from all these apologies. We both did.
It was raining. Drizzle really. It was damp and it made my hair all frizzy like Hermione's on a good day. I got to our coffee shop -because that's what this muggle place became, ours- and ordered a large mug of tea. I was jittery enough as it was and I didn't want to make it worse by consuming excessive amounts caffeine.
Harry got there just as my tea was brought over to my table by the back windows. There was more privacy there, making it less likely for anyone to overhear our conversation.
Harry looked excited about something and as I smiled at him in greeting he jumped right into a story about what happened to him earlier that morning. He had been called in early for an unplanned staff meeting. I never paid attention to the details so I had no clue what the meeting was all about, but I had agreed to meet Harry here after it was done. He wasn't going to like what I had planned to talk to him about today.
"… and then Smith ran right into Ron knocking the whole display and books all over the place. That guy can really flail when he trips." Harry chuckled lightly as he shook his head. The waiter brought Harry's black coffee over and set it down on the table. "Thanks."
As I waited for the waiter to leave earshot of our table, Harry was looking at me with his goofy smile. I loved that smile, it always made me feel gooey inside. "Something bothering you?" He asked.
Setting my mug of tea down I looked him straight in the eyes. "I think we need to take a break from each other." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
It took him all of two seconds to go from goofy smile to dead serious. "What are you talking about?"
"I know about your memory loss thing Harry."
"How?"
"News Years, I overheard you, Ron and Hermione talking." Pain and guilt crossed his face. I could see that he regretted what was happening to him. I did too. "I don't hold it against you. I sort of understand how you wanted to spare me the worry, but it would have been nice of you to talk to me about it. I'm your girlfriend after all Harry."
"I know. I'm sorry." He raked a hand through his moist hair. "But I don't think breaking up is going to solve that problem." The rain started beating the windows a little harder.
"Well pretending that everything is okay isn't either." I sighed heavily. My tea mug wasn't scalding my hands anymore and I wondered if we had really been sitting here for that long. "I… we need time to sort things out."
"Sort what out!" Harry's raised voice was hurt and angry. I had expected as much.
"Sort us out!" I snapped. "I'm sick of you leaving me out of things. Ever since you got back from Canada, you've been avoiding talking to me." He looked confused but I continued before he could get a word in. "I feel like all our relationship is based on lately is sex! We never hang out like we use to or even talk like we use to… And with everything that's been going on with me lately I can't take this too." I sighed deeply fighting back tears that I had promised myself I wouldn't shed.
"So that's it then." He sounded defeated and the look in his eyes (how about: was like a knife in my heart.) I turned to look out the window. "You're just going to leave and not even try to work on this, on us?" His words were pleading and I knew he was right, but I needed time. We needed time.
Without a word, I glared at him. The look of anguish in his eyes reflected the anguish in my own and I couldn't bear it, so I left.
The rain drenched everything in sight as I pushed the coffee shop door open and plunged into the street. I let the rain drench me as I knew it would hide the tears I couldn't contain any longer. I heard Harry calling me, begging me to come back inside to talk. I didn't listen to him. It was hard enough to confront him and break things off; to face him again would kill me.
I reached the cross walk moments before he got there and I dashed across the street. He yelled something and it forced me to stop half way to the other side of the street.
Then it happens.
There's a screech of wet tires on the road. I hear more than feel the load thud my body makes when the muggle car hits me going 60 miles per hour. The world tumbles head over heel and the cement comes to greet me with a sickening sound of bone crunching snaps. My whole body screams, my nerve endings are dying as my blood mixes with the rain on the road. I can't hear anything really well, but I'm facing up into the rain so when people start leaning over me I can see them. Something doesn't feel right, there are black spots surrounding my vision and I hold onto it as one more face joins the bystanders surrounding me. Harry. He's yelling something to me, but I can't quite make it out. Then everything goes black and the pain consumes my body.
When I woke up, years later it seemed, there was a dim light next to me and an annoying beeping sound in my ear. I must have been taken to a muggle hospital. Everything I could see was white. I must have been one huge bruise, from the way I felt. Even just moving a smidgen hurt like a mother. Someone leaned in closer to me. A nurse. She smiled then adjusted a tube next to me, then it started to feel better. Must have been that morphine stuff Harry told me about once. It was pleasant, it made my whole body tingle. She left me still smiling. At least she didn't look like shit.
When I woke a second time there wasn't anyone in the room with me. The door to my room was wide open and that annoying beeping still echoed in the silence. There was a clicking of sharp heels outside my room. They got louder as they got closer. They stopped just outside my open door.
There standing on the threshold was a woman in a peacock blue dress suit. Her heels were indeed sharp but elegant. The woman's hair slipped down her back like ink. She swished it over her shoulder as she entered my room and headed towards my bed. She looked to be in her forties; I wished that I would look like THAT when I reached my forties.
"Ginevra Weasley I presume?" Her voice was calm and even. She was a business woman and I was a smiling loon… again, so I just nodded.
"I don't have much time, but I wanted to express my condolences for what happened to you and I hope you have a quick recovery." Again I nodded. "My name is Emilia Pacquin. I'm the high Priestess of Avalon."