Disclaimer: JKRowling owns the Harry Potter franchise and all its characters. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making any profit from this story.
Harry Potter
and
The Ring of Urobara
Taking place seven years after the Battle of Hogwarts
(2005)
CHAPTER 1: The Burrow
Devonshire, England
Late Summer 2005
Ginny watched his silhouette shrink into the grey backdrop of country sky behind the Burrow, the old Weasley homestead. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she closed her eyes in silent resignation, locked her teeth together, and swore under her breath. It was a singular existence, being Mrs. Harry Potter.
Chosen one. Auror. Husband.
Harry's fame had been exciting during their formative years at Hogwarts, but his exploits after the Second Wizarding War had really tested Ginny's resolve. Harry was a gifted wizard, no doubt. But the legend of his name had cast a long shadow. Pressured by the Ministry of Magic, hounded by the Daily Prophet, and menaced from Diagon Alley to Hogwarts, Harry felt the constant need to prove he was worthy of the endless attention of others. Last year's Chocolate Frog Cards of Harry didn't help. Those came after Shacklebolt offered him his present job as an Auror. "No N.E.W.T. test needed for our man Harry," Shacklebolt had said. In truth, Ginny knew Harry was extending himself too far. The Wizarding World may be enamored with the legend of Harry Potter, but Ginerva Potter loved Harry. Simple, thick–headed, four–eyed Harry.
The silhouette was now gone. Ginny pushed her long red hair out of her face and looked west toward the Bristol Channel. The wind was picking up. She turned to go back indoors.
Ginny and Harry's lives had been blissfully quiet for the last few months. Shortly after James Sirius had been born, Arthur finally agreed to move Molly to a flat near Hyde Park in London. Officially retired now, Molly loved taking her new grandson James on long walks in the park while Arthur continued his emeritus work in the Department of Mysteries. Harry was home more often now, and though he frequently seemed driven to distraction, Ginny was glad for the quieter moments they had together. Sometimes they would have tea on the front porch. Sometimes they would read together. Mostly, though, she simply enjoyed seeing him home with their son.
That bliss—the happiness they had fought for and given up so much for—came crashing down with last month's attacks. The image of Harry's seething, angry face was the last impression she had of him. He had come charging into the Burrow during a massive storm, with her wet brother Ron petrified in his arms. Moments later, Ginny had recognized the fiendfyre wounds on Ron's cursed body. When Harry's yelling woke the baby, it only caused him to shout louder.
In the past few months, Ginny had come to recognize Harry's need to prove himself had now taken its shape as the desire to be head of the Aurors. Family afternoon tea had become an occasion to talk about Shacklebolt's mismanagement of the Aurors and what Harry thought could be done if he were put in charge. When Ron and Hermione visited, Harry would invariably pull Ron outside to discuss his vision. In fact, Harry had been the one to call on Ron for this latest Auror mission. Ginny remembered seeing the tragedy all over his face and the way his voice shook. He was in a rage. And he wanted justice.
Harry would not tell her what had happened. He came in, laid Ron down, grabbed a few supplies and told her goodbye. Ginny had protested. She had news of her own, but Harry wasn't hearing it. The last thing he told her was to keep quiet. He grabbed her by the wrist and made her promise not to tell a soul about his absence or her brother's condition. And that's what she would do.
As she passed Hermione going up the stairs, Ginny went in to check on Ron. Peering through the bedroom door, she could see her brother was still catatonic. The mandrake was going to take some time. The quiet was deafening in the unusually silent large country house. Hermione anxiously walked over to the window and drew the curtain open to reveal the dim light.
"He's gone," Ginny said, descending the staircase.
"I can see that," Hermione snapped.
"There was nothing else I could do."
"Oh but you are dense, Ginny. You know what he's going to do."
"I honestly don't. But, I promised him…"
"You promised him what?"
"I promised him that I'd wait and keep things quiet."
"Keep things…quiet?"
"That's right."
"This is a matter for the Ministry!" Hermione objected.
Ginny glared at Hermione. Opening her mouth, only to close it and turn her head to the floor. Hermione stepped away from the curtains and found some modicum of composure. "I'll be upstairs," Hermione said to the banister as she passed Ginny.
"Hermione, please don't cause any trouble. Don't contact anyone."
Hermione spun around, "What makes you think you can…!"
"Please. Go see about my brother."
Hermione briefly surveyed the entryway and saw the disturbed ceramic jar from the discussion that morning sitting idly by the front door.
"Where is he going?" asked Hermione.
"I don't know."
"Well, what was in the jar?"
Ginny looked briefly at Hermione and then silently walked to the back of the house. She stopped and cupped her flat belly with her hand. How had he known about the baby? In any event, there was nothing left for her to do now but to let things take their course. She looked over to the storage closet, filled with coats and quiddich gear. She'd no doubt be taking a leave of absence from the Holyhead Harpies in the fall. A lot of things would be different now.
A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing.