I kept my eyes squeezed shut, allowing only the bare minimum of awareness to approach. I wanted to savor that rapidly dwindling fraction of time in which I was awake, yet remembered nothing. For somehow, subconsciously, I knew that I did not want to remember. That whatever it was, I dreaded the time when I would recollect whatever unpleasantness was clouding my mind.
Wishing could not keep my brain from functioning, and all too soon, thought evoked memories of where I was and why I was there. My eyes opened slowly, carefully, and took in the relative darkness of the room. And the still figure that rested next to me within it.
My eyes slammed shut again as memories came flooding back from the previous day.
It had been a brilliant Friday morning, with a stunningly blue sky and a gentle breeze. I had awoken in a decidedly pleasant way, with Ginny running her hands along my back and whispering into my ear. I took my time in waking, wanting to draw out the moment for as long as possible. I was certain that she knew I was awake; I did not care. After several minutes, I turned to face her and leisurely kissed her forehead, cheeks, and nose, and finally, her mouth. She broke the kiss after only a few short seconds, resting her forehead on mine and smiling bemusedly.
"Harry, you have to go to work today." She said it with a rather stern voice, which I suppose should not have surprised me. I was too busy tracing her cheekbone and neck to listen carefully.
"I know," I replied, "but I'm far too comfortable here. I'd much rather stay with you all day."
She laughed at me, and then suddenly she was standing and walking towards her dresser, pulling out clothes for the day.
"I would too, but perhaps if I start getting ready it will inspire you. This is your last day before you get a week off."
"And why would that be?" I asked. I could not resist, of course, and her reaction was beautifully predictable. She spun around and glared teasingly.
I pretended to gasp, covering my mouth with one hand, and exclaimed, "Is it our anniversary tomorrow? I had forgotten!"
Her glare softened into a sweet smile, and she turned back to her task.
I then managed to drag myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower. I was just brushing my teeth when Ginny called to me from the bedroom, and then walked through the door with an envelope in her hand. I nodded to indicate that she could open it, and she read it aloud.
Auror Harry Potter
We require your assistance in the case of an escapee from Azkaban. Please report to the ministry promptly with a change of clothes. We suspect our efforts will take approximately two days.
Ministry of Magic
I frantically grabbed a few necessary toiletries, as Ginny raced into the bedroom, calling behind her that she would gather my clothes.
In less than a minute, I had a bag ready. I leaned forward to hug her tightly, mumbling apologies about missing part of our anniversary the next day. She silenced me with a quick kiss, and saw me to the front yard, where I disapparated.
When I arrived at the ministry, I felt as though something was off. I hurried over to Ron's desk, as I knew he was already on duty today.
"Ron, what's going on?" I asked. He looked puzzled.
"What do you mean? It's been a normal day so far. I've been here for half an hour and nothing's happened. Why?" I was baffled. Surely, if something as serious as an Azkaban breakout had happened, the department would have informed Ron?
"I got a letter this morning saying that I needed to pack for a couple of days and come here; there was a breakout in Azkaban."
"Nothing's happened, Harry," he said. The beginnings of suspicion formed in my mind.
"Ron, the note I got, it told me to leave promptly. And Ginny doesn't have work today. Everyone knows that; this time of year, the teams always get Friday through Sunday off."
"Yes," he encouraged, somewhat questioning.
"That letter was a ploy to get Ginny alone in our house," I concluded. "We have to go."
Ron and I apparated to Grimmauld Place without another word, and raced together up the ten stairs from the front into the house.
"Ginny!" I yelled in desperation, bursting through the front door and up the stairs. "Gin---"
"Hello, Harry Potter." The icy voice broke through my panic and turned it into rage.
"What do you want?" I screamed, frantically searching the bedroom as I used my wand to light it. I raced across the floor, placing a hand on Ginny's pale forehead, praying that she was alright. The eerie similarity between this situation and the Chamber of Secrets in my second year was unsettling.
"You," the voice replied. "And it seems I have succeeded. Expelliarmus!"
My wand flew across the room and into the windowsill, far too great a distance for me to cross. Regardless, I refused to leave Ginny's side. The figure stepped closer to us, lifted its wand, and opened its mouth. I cringed and held Ginny to me.
"Stupefy!"
I looked for the source of this life-saving word, only to remember that I had brought Ron with me, and that he had been only a few steps behind on the stairs.
"Get her to St. Mungo's," he ordered, "I'll take care of this one."
I nodded meekly, and we were gone.
That was yesterday morning. And today I found myself in an uncomfortable chair in a hospital, clutching Ginny's hand tightly as I waited for the medication to wear off enough that she might wake. The criminal, as it so happens, was a crazed fan who decided that if she took Ginny out of the picture, I would be hers forever. Ginny had not been a lure, but rather the true target of the affair. The woman had almost killed Ginny; our unexpected arrival was the only reason that I was not at a funeral.
Of all the ironies in the situation, the worst was this: today was our first wedding anniversary.
I raised the hand to my lips and pressed a light kiss on it, startled and wondrously relieved when the hand squeezed back.
"Ginny?" I whispered.
"Harry? Where are we?" she asked, her voice raspy from disuse.
"St. Mungo's," I replied, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "A woman decided that if she could get rid of you, she could have me. Pretty daft. Ron and I realized it in time to get you. The letter from the ministry was a fake."
"What day is it?" she murmured.
"Only Saturday. And they said you'll be out of here by the end of the day."
"It's our anniversary?" she asked.
I smiled and nodded.
"What a way to spend it."
"Don't worry about it, Ginny. I'm just glad you're alright." I brushed hair out of her face, and she sighed. "There are a few other people who would like to see you. Should I get them?"
"Sure. Just, not all of them at once. We don't want to scare the hospital staff with an army of redheads." I laughed, glad to see her energy back.
The Weasley's paraded into the room in small groups, quietly wishing Ginny a speedy recovery. Mrs. Weasley gave practically everyone in the room a hug, kissed Ginny on the forehead, and shooed everyone out of the room. Around three, the staff decided that Ginny could go home. I helped her upstairs, settled her in our bed, and heated some soup. My last thought, before drifting off to sleep, was a hope that the rest of our anniversaries would be less eventful.
I'm curious. How many of you thought the narrator was Ginny at the beginning of the story?
Thanks again to reviewers: TayliaNinja, LindseyPotter13, lea, harryandjamesluvr, rexrocks1994, Feff, David Fishwick, Icedearth15876, ArianaRae, Joe Prawn, kate, EliseShaw, Splash123, x, O-fallen-phoenix, hollyjaynee-ginnyharrylove, Lunaclaw14, allie's hope, and Julia Claire.
Emily