(as always characters, world, etc belong to JKR…I just thought of the weird plot)
Forty Thousand Brothers
As the waves pounded against the shore and black thunderheads rolled in, she turned her face inland. Her feet trod deliberately on the tiny grains of sand that dissipated and dissolved into a line of gray concrete. It was very liberating: to be completely unsullied by memories and haunting visions. Yet, something deep down in the fibers of her being stirred. The knowing of things past and a desire for things to come lay dormant, waiting to be reawoken.
Her home overlooked the sea. However, since it sat above the rocky hills, the only way was indirect and round-about. Brushing her sandy shoes off on the welcome mat, she let herself into the large house. "Ray?" she poked her copper head into her husband's study.
He looked up from the paper he was intently studying and gave her a warm smile, "Have a good walk, love?" His smooth voice sent shivers down her spine, and she nodded. Scooting his chair away from the desk, he motioned for her to come. No convincing was required, and she quickly took her place on his lap. Her artistic fingers wove delicate patterns through his silky hair. She bent her head to his shoulder and brought his arm protectively around her waist.
Smiling to himself, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and leaned into her loving embrace.
"Jen," he murmured, what seemed like hours later.
"Mmm," she acknowledged.
"Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed? You're still getting better," she moved in what felt like a nod, and he bit back a quiet laugh. Carefully shifting, he brought her legs up with his free arm and stood. Her gentle breathing was the house's only sound, as the approaching storm blew out any power. After checking to see that she was asleep, he carefully maneuvered the top drawer of his mahogany desk open. Removing his wand, he flicked it, and with a whispered word, candles lit the way to a commanding main staircase. The scent of vanilla began to drift through the rooms, and he was amused that her favorite fragrance emerged from his magic.
A knock sounded at the door. His eyes narrowed. The familiar word was shouted, and the door sprung open "Alohamora!"
Of their own accord, his arms tightened around the sleeping woman in his arms. Two shadows were silhouetted against the newly opened doorway. Three other figures could be seen behind.
"Draco Malfoy," the tall and imposing man on the left spoke, his tone devoid of emotion, "You are under arrest for the kidnapping and murder of Ginevra Weasley,"
"Ray?" Jen was waking. "Honey, what's going on?"
Her voice froze all present. The candles sputtered as a breeze blew through the house, lifting her hair away from her face and casting it into the dancing shafts of light. A collective gasp was taken from the five members Magical Law Enforcement.
"Ginny?" one of the men stepped forward from behind.
Forcing herself to the ground, she stepped around her husband to more clearly see their visitors, "No." she said slowly. "My name is Jen. And this is my husband…Ray…Not your," she paused with a frown, "Draco Malfoy. Who are you, and why are you here?" Stepping back, she clasped Ray's hand.
All color drained from the man's face, "I'm Ron—your brother." He said incredulously. "We…you…you were dead,"
Her laughter rang through the house, "Dead? You must be mistaken, Mr. –"
"Weasley…" he supplied slowly.
"Mr. Weasley. For I am quite alive. And I believe you have the wrong person, for you cannot possibly be my brother, as I am an only child."
Only the woman's quick movement to step between her beloved and the stranger before her prevented Ron's fury being expressed in violence.
"What. In the name of all you ever held dear or sacred. Did you do to her." He spat.
"She can't remember," the man who was both Draco and Ray spoke quietly.
"WHAT?! You bastard!" Not even Ginny's tears could stop Ron. "You wiped my sister's memory and then left the damn country and let her family and friends think she was dead just so you and your bastard death eaters could enjoy her," he spat, "without interference."
"No—" Draco was given no chance to explain.
"Recordatio!"
Ginny's screams filled the air. She dropped to the ground, writhing in mental anguish. Scalding tears poured forth from her eyes as she relived memories, as she remembered.
Hello Ginny Weasley. I am Tom Riddle.
"I love Harry Potter."
Green flashes. Resounding cracks. Black robes. She was alone. She was captured. Harry would never know.
The war. The Imperius curse. Killing muggles. Killing Colin.
"Harry Potter is dead".
Forced 'love'. Forced sex. Nameless Death Eaters. Excruciating pain. Artificial pleasure.
Screams. Strange screams. Her screams.
Blood. So, so much blood. Her blood.
Premature labor. A baby's wails. Her baby.
Voldemort. "Crucio". "A-vad-a Ked-av-ra".
Her dead baby.
Draco. His head on her stomach. His head on her scarred, naked stomach. His head on her barren womb. His tears on her skin.
"Give me your wand".
The point digging into her temple. Her hand shaking. The wood drawing icy blood.
"Oblivate".
The world spun uncontrollably. Her head was splitting with an intensely primal pain; ceiling and floor wove and meshed together in an indescribable mass of black.
Feeling was the first sense to return. She was aware of a weight beside her, leaning over her. Sound came next; voices fading in and out. She wasn't sure whether they were near or far. Sight tried to force it's presence, but she wanted to remain in darkness. Opening her eyes to the light would be admitting the truth—admitting the past.
It was not her husband's voice she heard, coaxing her back to the present. It was the voice of her long absent brother.
"…Come on, Gin. I know I've been waiting for four years and another four hours isn't going to make much difference…but I really want you to hurry and wake up,"
"Ron?" she allowed her eyelids to flutter open.
"Ginny!" his voice spoke of immeasurable joy. An ear-splitting smile creased his face, and his eyes were limited to ecstatic slits. He wrapped his arms around her, and she thought he would never let go. A quiet tear slipped from her eye; the only acknowledgement she gave that she was glad at the reunion.
When they pulled apart, she turned to him, "Where's Ray?"
His face fell so visibly, she felt almost guilty asking after her husband.
"Draco is in confinement until we can take you both back to England. We have a warrant for his arrest, Gin," he massaged her hand, as though he wanted to reassure himself of her tangibility.
"I want to see him." She said, sitting up. "Now."
There was a ferocity behind her empty stare, and he could not refuse her.
Under the careful watch of both Ron and Neville, she was admitted to Draco's study. He was standing at the far window, leaning against the frame. His form was wearied and clearly showing strain.
"Ray," she whispered.
Turning, he met her gaze. He only made it two steps before she had flung herself into his waiting arms, quietly sobbing,
"I still love you. I love you more. They can't take you away; I need you."
It took considerable effort on his part to restrain his own emotions. Forcing his heart back to it's proper place in his chest, he cradled her.
All too soon Ron stepped forward and in a tone Ginny could now recognize as commanding, told her to come away. Lingering in Draco's embrace as long as she knew Ron would allow, Ginny reluctantly broke away. "I'll see you soon," he whispered, kissing her fingers.
As the door closed firmly behind her, Ginny leaned against it for support. She could feel Ron's hurt eyes penetrating her face. Slowly lifting her head, she met the brown orbs, "I know what you would say Ronald, and now is not the time. You are my brother," at this the tears arose again, "and I love you. But in returning yourself to me, you have torn me from the one man who has been my comforter and support. You have returned to my mind the reasons Ray found me screaming in my slumber. Do not ask me to thank you, not now."
With a step more leaden than Ron cared to see in one so dear, Ginny mounted the stairs. As she neared the top, her knees buckled and she reached for the railing to keep from tumbling to the landing.
"Ginny!" Ron rushed to her aid, looping an arm behind her back to steady her.
"Oh Ron, why did you have to find us? Why did you have to make me remember?"
Two months later to the date, Ginny prepared for Draco's trial before the Wizengamot. The weeks of agonizing debriefing with medical staff from St. Mungos, Aurors, and her family had left her but a shadow of the person Draco had loved in California. She had answered all of their questions dutifully and listened stoically as they told her what happened since her "death" five years prior.
What happened when you were captured by the Death Eaters?
What didn't happen. She was imprisoned by the Imperius curse, too weak to withstand. It was she who had left Colin's mutilated body at the side of the Thames, leaving Harry without one of his most trusted allies and bodyguards. By the time they killed Harry, her use in battle had dissipated. So they took everything that remained. Her body was battered beyond recognition but she managed to carry a child to full term. As she lay weak and bruised, her blood pooling and growing cold on the table, she watched Voldemort take her son and kill him.
When did Draco Malfoy come?
How much time had passed between the death of her son and Draco's presence? Perhaps hours or days. There were no windows and not a soul had entered in the interim.
What did Mr. Malfoy do?
Here, she faltered. He had come to kill her, but he could not.
Why not?
What right had they to pry into her life like this? She and Draco had by some chance become friends during their last years at Hogwarts. No one knew. She had not seen him since the day they disembarked from the Hogwarts Express two years before her capture.
How was your memory oblivated?
When he would not kill her, Ginny demanded his wand and oblivated her memory.
There was always silence after she said that.
Why did you go with Mr. Malfoy?
She did not know anyone else. He was there when she finally woke up. He said she had no family, but that he loved her. So she trusted him. He proved himself worthy of that trust as time passed. He comforted her as she wept for the memories lost. They married three years ago. Before she awoke in Switzerland after the unconsciousness that followed her powerful obliviation, he had healed her to the best of his abilities. Some wounds were beyond his skill, however, and as time passed without conception, they discovered that she could not carry a child.
Do you want to know what happened here?
No. This world in which she grew up had lost its glamour. It was magic that destroyed her. Magic caused her to kill one of her best friends. Magic led to scars that would never heal. Yes, magic had saved her from remembering, but magic had also returned to her those nightmares. Her family had changed while she was gone. Deaths, marriages. These names that once came so fluently to her lips now tangled and grew confused. Fred, or was it George? had married and lived up north. Percy died, of that she was sure. Her mother doted as she always did. More so, rather, for her daughter had been lost a very long time. Voldemort had been vanquished, of course. Ron was in line to become Minister of Magic.
Ginny listened patiently, but she could not care. When the trial was over, for better or worse, she would leave England and the wizarding world behind.
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1-8-07 I was bored one day over Christmas break so I decided to resurrect this story. Wow, how random is that? It's almost done, but it's almost 1am and I have class tomorrow, so you'll have to wait a little while for the end. Little while actually meaning a couple days ;)
It was going to be a one shot until I couldn't figure out how to end it, so there are two endings, both of which I like and will be posted simultaneously.
Oh and recordatio is simply Latin for "remember".
