Stolen Notes
Disclaimer: Every thing is mine…except for the things that aren't.
A/N:
I starting writing this story quite a while ago so it is compliant with HBP and below. I've recently picked it back up so I hope to be able to post fairly freqently.
Chapter One: Trapped
He watched her from the back of the crowded room, subtly craning his neck to catch a glimpse of her. She stood there beside them with a smile plastered to her face, the envy of every witch in London. She watched them give their speeches, looking solemn at the appropriate intervals.
For the 15 minutes she'd stood before him, he hadn't been able to tear his eyes away. He'd watched her through out the speech of Arthur Weasley not a single syllable penetrating his mind. She stood there, that git's arm wrapped around her slim waist, her friend's arm encircling her, her brother's large hands resting protectively on her shoulders. When the git moved to make his speech, her brother took his place at her side.
It had been a year since he'd seen her and his eyes traitorously drank their fill of her. Though his chest constricted painfully, he couldn't tear his eyes away. She looked too thin. Not that any one else would have noticed. She hadn't reached the point of gaunt yet but she'd lost weight. It was only a matter of time. He watched entranced as she lifted her arm, her long, elegant and perfectly manicured fingers brushing stray strands of hair from her eyes. His eyes narrowed on the ring adorning her finger. Inwardly he scoffed, while being careful to maintain the look of indifference that served him so well.
The ring had a thick gold band holding a large diamond flanked by rubies. It was a beautiful ring he conceded but it was a large, ostentatious and clearly expensive ring that drew attention. Not at all to her tastes.
He stared at her without being able to decide whether he wanted her to see him or if he wanted her never to know he was there. He knew it had to be the latter. She wouldn't see him now anyway. Not anymore. Not after what he did. Not after what he said. The last words he spoke to her echoed painfully in his head.
"Revenge," he'd said coldly, sneering at her.
"What?" she asked, her voice cracking through the disbelief.
"You actually thought I'd let you get away with doing that to me? That you could choose him and then come running to me because he was everything I told you he was?"
He watched as tears began to leak out, running down her face. He turned away as unable as ever to see her cry. He fought the urge to take her in his arms and kiss those wretched tears away. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to her but he had to do this. Mentally, he took a deep breath preparing himself for this attack. He closed his eyes, pain flicking across his unguarded face.
He calmly took a sip of fire whisky before turning and coldly, cruelly continuing, "Did you really think that I'd still want you after all this time? After everything you did with him? Did you think that I'd want you when every woman in England is throwing herself at me?" He laughed as her as she began to sob audibly. He laughed maliciously at her pain desperately hoping that she couldn't see his own.
"Although I have to say," he said moving towards her and running a hand down her bare arm and over the top of her thigh, before coming to a stop at her hip. He smiled, letting his hand lightly trail along the flesh beneath the top button of her jeans. "that you really were a good fuck."
She moved violently away from him, slapping his arm down. She looked at him as though he had struck her. Her bright brown eyes stained red from her tears stared at him.
"But really I can get a good fuck anywhere. Course if you want to go again for all times sake…"
It was a question from Colin Creevey that finally broke him out of his trance.
"Mr. Potter with you and Miss Weasley getting married next month when can we expect the pitter patter of little Potter feet?"
"Don't worry," Harry said his eyes sparkling. "We're working on it."
Draco felt his stomach drop and his heart damn near stop at the git's words. He watched Ginny – his Ginny - searching for her reaction. He watched her with fear. As he stared at her he saw nothing. She was empty.
"Bloody hell I hate those fucking press conferences!" Harry glowered as he ripped his tie off from around his neck, throwing himself into the kitchen chair. "Don't ruddy well see why I had to be there!"
"It was the one year anniversary Harry," Ginny said tiredly, having constantly had the same conversation with him for the past week. "You know you had to be there."
"I could have just gone to the remembrance ceremony and unveiling!" Harry said. "Bloody Creevey bombarding me with questions was not my idea of a tribute!"
"I know," Ginny said sympathetically. God had it only been a year? It felt so much longer.
A year ago today Harry had come face to face with the man that had haunted her dreams since she was eleven years old. Skewed detail of 'The Final Battle' had been splashed over every newspaper in the Wizarding world. The Boy Who Lived had done it again. Her own role in the battle had been the most inaccurate in its portrayal. Kidnapped to lure Harry Potter to Lord Voldemort. That's a laugh! Nobody had bothered to correct them. They had lost so many over the course of the war and almost the same again on the night of The Final Battle that it didn't seem important. Her own family had been lucky. They hadn't lost anyone. Although over half had been seriously injured.
Bill still suffered from the werewolf attack in her fifth year, Charlie had been stabbed with a dagger charmed to prevent coagulating and almost bled to death. Percy had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse within an inch of his life. Fred had been hit with more curses than the healers at St. Mungo's knew what to do with. It had seemed that the more curses they removed the more that afflicted him. It had taken two months for all the curses and hexes to be removed and then a further three days for him to regain consciousnesses. George had been like a zombie the entire time barley letting the Healers tend to his broken bones and the gashes that marred his body. The usual jovial spark in his eyes was diminished to the point of non-existent. He seemed to lose motor functions as well, finding it difficult to accomplish the simplest of tasks. Ron, despite six months of intensive physical therapy, still walked with a limp after taking a cursed aimed at Hermione. Harry was so exhausted after the battle that he laid unconscious for almost a week.
Rumors ran wild as to what was afflicting him. It ranged from something resembling the truth of being weak after the battle to Harry commanding a giant snake to devour Voldemort and it turning on him. That particular story was thought to be plausible due to Voldemort and Harry's shared gift of Parselmouth and the fact that Arthur Weasley had previously almost lost his life in a similar fashion.
Ginny had also ended up in St. Mungos unconscious for two days but only two people were still alive to attest to why. Her condition had mostly been overlooked by her family with so many of her brothers being injured and then, thankfully, by press with two of the three Golden Trio taking up temporary residence at St. Mungo's.
Today marked the one-year anniversary of the end of a war that waged for 6 years. There had been a remembrance ceremony in a large garden near Diagon Alley. In the heart of the gardens was a large marble monument with the name of every person who had lost their lives in the war engraved upon the gold scroll affixed to it. It was simple but elegant. A fitting testament to those who were lost. The garden had overflowed with people all clambering to pay their respects and catch a glimpse of the infamous trio, who had become synonymous with the end of Lord Voldemort's rein of terror, blood and mayhem.
She had stood beside him through it, feeling trapped as Harry, Ron or Hermione were constantly by her side. When they'd moved to accommodate the press conference she had been forced onto the raised platform of a stage to stand with them as her father, who was appointed Minister of Magic upon the war's conclusion, gave a speech and answered their many questions.
Harry had been next giving her a short reprieve in the form of space only to have it snatched away from her as Ron took up his place at her side. She felt sick as Harry told the crowd of paper cut ridden leeches that they would soon be having children but she hadn't said anything to counter his claim or to disillusion her mother of the idea as they had joined the feast that followed the press conference. As soon as they apparated home Ginny knew he would start going on about the press and how unfair it was that he had to be there and she was right.
"I will never understand why your father thought it was important for there to be one. The Ceremony and Unveiling were enough. Not to mention the feast!"
"I know," Ginny repeated, sliding her cloak from her shoulders, hanging her and Harry's cloaks on their racks. Harry watched her as she did so. He hadn't noticed what she was wearing before. She had on a tailored deep purple shirt that, he noted with approval, stretched nicely across her breasts when she stretched to hang the cloaks, paired with a black skirt that came to just above her knees. She'd worn her long amber hair down but held off her face with an emerald dragon clip Charlie had given her. He continued to watch her as she went to the fridge to pour herself a glass of water, the charm bracelet she'd received from her family on her sixteenth birthday jingling softly as she moved.
She didn't turn around when she heard his chair scrape along the floor as he raised himself and took the few paces towards her as she finished cleaning and drying her glass. His hands gripped her waist and pulled her back so she was flush with his body. She felt his erection digging into her, his hands trailed upwards releasing the buttons of her shirt as he went. With her shirt hanging open and her black satin bra exposed he turned her body to face him. He released her hair from its dragon keeper, placing the clip on the kitchen sink before kissing her soundly, his tongue swirling around in her mouth. His hands came to rest on her backside pulling her closer to him still. He moaned at the increased contact, released her from his grip and grabbed her hand pulling her towards their large bedroom.
Harry quickly divested them of clothing, laying Ginny down on the bed his mouth attached to her left breast. Within moments Ginny felt his knee nudging her thighs apart. He let out a loud groan as he entered her. He punctuated each thrust with a moan, ceasing to touch or kiss her as he took his pleasure from her body. His thoughts not moving past the next thrust. When his thrusts became erratic Ginny arched her back beneath him letting out a time perfected breathy moan. Harry came with a cry of her name before slumping down heavily on top of her. She rarely came with Harry not that he ever noticed. He rolled off her a few moments later promptly falling asleep.
Ginny lay awake simply staring at the ceiling until she could no longer bear being so close to him. She pushed the heavy blankets off herself, the bed was always to warm for her and raised herself intent on getting her contraceptive potion from the adjoining bathroom.
She stared at herself in the mirrored door of the bathroom cabinet. Her face was so pale. Paler than it ever was before. Her freckles were like stark blobs of brown sprinkled over her face. She brought her hand to her face letting it rest on her too prominent cheekbones. Her too thin arm looked odd in its reflection. Ginny couldn't stand it anymore. Looking at the pale, fragile and broken woman staring back at her, how haven't they noticed? she wondered incredulously.
Too quickly she pulled open the cabinet door, the harsh sound of glass meeting plaster echoed through the silence of the bathroom. She winced at the sound. With trepidation she slowly brought the door back to herself inspecting the damage she had inflicted. She breathed a sigh of relief. Only the corner of the mirror had broken off. She looked down at the broken piece on the tiled floor. With a muttered spell the mirror was righted.
"Ginny?" Harry's muffled voice floated to the bathroom. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just getting my contraceptive potion."
"It's not in there, Ginny," Harry answered condescendingly. "I didn't lie at the press conference."
Ginny barley kept herself from choking as the full meaning of his words hit her. He's thrown it out! The bastard of a git has thrown out my potion!
"Come back to bed, Ginny."
Ginny nodded mutely only dimly aware that Harry couldn't see her reply.
Sliding back under the covers, she could feel the lump that was Harry move towards her.
"We'd better make a start on keeping that promise," Harry said in what he probably thought was a sexy voice as he clambered back on top of her.
His body was spooning hers uncomfortably. His arm was like a dead weight lying across her abdomen. I can't do this anymore. She'd done her best. She'd tried even when every impulse she had was telling her otherwise. I won't do this anymore. Carefully Ginny disentangled herself from Harry's hold on her, hoping desperately that she didn't wake him. She dressed quickly in her favourite pair of jeans and a simple white shirt. She made her way across the large bedroom she had shared with Harry bleeding Potter for the last year and slid into the walk in robe he had insisted she wanted.
From beneath her old Quidditch gear Ginny extracted a black leather bag, of similar design to her old Hogwarts book bag. With that and a pair of trainers, Ginny tiptoed out of the bedroom closing the door slowly as she left. She withdrew a piece of parchment from a draw in Harry's desk, taking as much time as she dared to write him a letter.
Returning everything to its rightful place, Ginny folded the letter and slipped it neatly in a pristine envelope before carefully leaning it against Harry's morning coffee mug that sat alone on the kitchen table. She glared at the coffee mug disdainfully. Harry always expected her to make his coffee for him. Every morning. Didn't matter that she didn't drink the stuff just that he wanted it and it was up to her to make that want a reality.
She left the apartment, her hooded traveling cloak hiding her tell tale hair and walked purposely through the darkened streets. She had two stops to make before she could go where she wanted. Would have been one if it weren't for him! She thought uncharitably.
She took a deep breath before entering Gringotts bank. She only hoped that the goblins continued to live up to their 'no paying costumer shall have their privacy invaded' mentality. Once you were late on a fee that was it, they'd hand over any records to anyone who wanted them. Pulling her cloak tighter around her to ensure her face was shrouded in darkness, Ginny walked through the halls of Gringotts to a teller.
"Key please," the Goblin stated, stifling a yawn. Silently Ginny slid the small gold key over the marble counter. "Vault number 889. This way please."
The Goblin inserted the key into the stone lock before standing back accommodatingly to let Ginny pass. A considerable pile of Galleons, sickles and knuts greeted her. A few stray boxes stacked neatly in front of her gold. Few knew that she owned ten percent of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Every month she deposited her portion of the profits, along with her pay from the secretarial job her father had gotten her upon the wars end, into her personal and secret vault. Harry insisted on paying for everything, leaving Ginny with a year of unchecked income. Ginny scooped every last knut into the Gringotts supplied money bag. The bag was charmed to stay at a manageable size no matter how many coins you shoved into it. Readjusting her cloaks hood she stood and left the now empty vault.
"I'd like to close this vault," Ginny said as she and the Goblin resurfaced following the backbreaking cart ride.
"Yes ma'am," the goblin replied, conjuring a piece of parchment and a large peacock feather quill. "Sign here." Ginny thanked the Goblin who bid her farewell with abrupt politeness.
"One down, one to go," Ginny muttered under her breath as she exited the marble building.
Ginny made her way through the streets, keeping herself immersed in shadow. She blinked furiously as the flood of the streetlight hit her eyes. She quickly made her way into the Diagon Alley Pharmacy, making a beeline for the contraceptive potions. She hung around the aisles waiting as a drunken lout clumsily made his way forward with what Ginny supposed was a sobering potion. She watched biding her time as the young wizard behind the counter become visibly flustered as he tried to placate the man and finish the transaction. Ginny moved behind the intoxicated man and tutted impatiently. The wizard looked up at her apologetically before returning to the unruly wizard in front of him. After a few more moments of fussing Ginny unceremoniously threw a sickle on the counter.
"Contraceptive potion," she said curtly. "Keep the change." She turned on her heel, leaving the struggling wizards, a wide smile covering her unseen face.
When she reached the brick wall that separated the Wizarding World from muggles, she took one last look at the darkened magical street recalling all the good times she'd had here. She only had one thing from her apartment with Harry. A simple but expensive looking leather note book charmed to continually replenish itself. The cover had the Chinese symbol for 'success' inlaid in gold. On the first page written in a grand calligraphy were the words, 'Sometimes words are enough…sometimes they need an accompaniment.'
With a small smile Ginevra Molly Weasley left the Wizarding World behind and disappeared into the world of muggles.
