Chapter 9: Dog New Tricks

Hermione didn't last long after that. The public screamed for her resignation and she gave it. Actually, it was more like the heads of department signed it for her after a medical examination deemed her temporarily insane.

Temporary my wand.

There would be no turning back for her now- not after she had felt herself infallible for so long, only to lose everything in one afternoon. I only hoped they put her in a room at St. Mungo's with Percy- that way they could ramble incoherently to one another. She always did get along better with my second oldest brother than any of my brothers or I did.

The only problem was that now everyone knew Melinda was a fraud, and so more people were accosting Shamra and me whenever we went out in public. It wasn't as bad for me, considering I really WAS Ginny Weasley, but I felt awful at what poor Shamra had to deal with. I sent an entire case of butterbeer to her house as a sorry excuse for an apology, but she stopped by and told me she appreciated it all the same- her wages at the Ministry as a file clerk really were a pittance, so she couldn't afford much of anything any more. Beth, on the other hand, was busy cleaning out the former Minister Granger's office and actually got to hire an assistant to help her document all the things of a sensitive nature she found in there. As for Voldemort, he had been as ruthless as ever in the previous weeks now that there was no official residing in the Minister of Magic's office.

Early one morning in May I apparated to Diagon Alley to do some shopping and found the street in ruins. Immediately, I drew my wand and ducked into a side street. No one was in the alley with me, so I apparated to the waiting room outside Hermione's former office. If Beth or Shamra were there, I would know what was happening instantly.

I ducked in an alcove in the hallway just outside the waiting area, and saw Beth barely holding off three Death Eaters while someone (presumably her assistant) hid under her desk. Someone was coming up behind me, so I quickly raised my wand on them- I nearly fired, but lowered just in time.

"Merlin, Gin, you almost blew my ear off," said Shamra conversationally.

"Sorry about that. Think Beth needs some help?"

She nodded and we evened the odds, binding the Death Eaters in a disapparation jinx and leaving them for the Aurors.

"Thanks," gasped Beth. "You got here just in time."

"Is it over?" came a meek voice from under the desk.

"Yes, Alfred, you can come out now," Beth sighed exasperatedly.

Alfred poked his head out and squealed. "Oh, Merlin! Is that the REAL Ginny Weasley?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. And a fat lot of help you were, mate. Didn't you learn any defensive spellwork at Hogwarts?"

"Er… I didn't pay much attention in that class. At least, not after Professor Wilfredd got eaten- he was the only thing that kept me on, quite the hunkster that bloke was."

I nodded as if to settle the matter without question, even though I had no idea who Professor Wilfredd was. Maybe I should introduce Alfred to Draco.

The hair on the back of my neck raised up, and I swirled around, putting myself in between Shamra, Beth, Alfred and whatever had just entered the room.

"What is it, Ginny?" whispered Shamra, raising her wand behind me.

"I'm not sure, just don't move, ok?"

The assault was instantaneous. Dozens of reporters came thundering into the room, flashbulbs exploding and Quick Quotes Quills buzzing wildly.

"Ginny! What happened? Did you save these poor girls from the Death Eaters?"

"Hey!" cried Alfred. "I'm not a girl!"

"Right! The girls and this poor unfortunate boy, then."

I groaned. "It was a team effort. Beth was holding her own against them, and Shamra and I came in to help her clean up."

"Ginny, is it true that you're going to run for Minister of Magic now that Minister Granger is no longer in office?" cried the first reporter.

"Miss Weasley, is it true that you sent a Devil's Snare disguised as a pot plant to Minister Granger's hospital address?" screamed another.

"Ginny! Are the rumors accurate when they say that you're dating international Quidditch star Jefferson Maltby?"

I stared at them. "Are you serious?"

"YES!" they cried, even as the Aurors shoved through them to round up the three Death Eaters we had jinxed.

"No, no, and no." I spat. "Happy now?"

"Ginny, is it true that the reason your and Minister Granger's friendship went to the krups was because she was having an affair with Harry?"

Great and honorable Merlin, would this never end?

"Is it true, Ginevra, that you're going to 'break my soul apart'?"

Wait a minute.

I centered my wand on the voice coming from near the window treatments and fired a stunner, which was deflected to the picture frame of Shamra and I Beth kept on her desk. Lord Voldemort stepped into view, and the reporters ran screaming for cover as Alfred dove once again under the desk, and Shamra, Beth, the Aurors and I tried to battle the Dark Lord.

Voldemort froze every Auror, Beth, and Shamra in a matter of seconds, and disarmed me- leaving me alone and defenseless.

"So you fancied yourself rather important, now that our sainted Minister is gone, didn't you, Ginevra?"

I held my head high and didn't acknowledge his remark. Something told me this wasn't the end.

"I came to give you a little gift, Ginevra," he commented casually as he released his Death Eaters with the counter jinx. They bowed and disapparated, leaving us alone among my frozen comrades. Voldemort flicked his wand, suspending me in midair and rendering me immobile. "You made short work of my ten followers that night, but surely you must know that I let you off easily. I knew you would retaliate."

"Get to the point, Tom," I hissed. "If you're going to kill me, get it over with. The sooner you do, the sooner I can be with Harry."

He laughed, softly. "Oh no, Ginevra. I'm not going to kill you… yet. I'm not finished playing with you. I may have killed off your family and friends, but rest assured I won't stop until I have control over the world. One day you'll bow at my feet, Ginevra."

"Never!" I cried, cringing as the air tightened around my throat, making it difficult to breathe.

"We'll see about that," he said. "I would have you as my queen, Ginny. I tried to speak with you about it, but those nasty fires you set disrupted our conversation. I thought that disposing of your brothers for you would make you understand. You have no more earthly ties, Miss Weasley, yet I can give you everything. Join me. Produce my heirs, and you shall be exalted above all others."

"I would never marry you, Tom, you know that."

He shrugged. "Never you mind- it matters not. I'll have you either way. In the meantime, though, I'll leave you with something to think about."

A harsh swish of his wand and I felt as if my insides were being ripped out. It seemed that only the force of the binding spell Lord Voldemort had used was holding my intestines inside my body. Voldemort disapparated and I chanced looking down. My own blood was pooling on the floor beneath me, and there was nothing I could do. I would bleed to death if I couldn't get myself out of this predicament. I heard a whimper coming from under the desk.

Alfred.

"Alfred! Get out here, quick! PLEASE!"

Alfred scrambled out, trembling from head to foot. "What do I do?" he squeaked. "Is the bad man gone?"

I groaned. I was finding it hard enough to concentrate as it was, and this nitwit was not helping.

"Lift up my shirt, okay?"

"Ginny, I'm gay, although if I wasn't, you might just be my cup of tea."

"Alfred! This is no time for jokes. Lift up my shirt and run your wand along the cut while saying "Immendo". Concentrate, all right?"

Alfred did so and managed to stop the some of the bleeding.

"Now, end the jinx on Shamra, all right?" He did so. "Shamra, I want you to levitate me while Alfred ends whatever jinx is holding me up here. Once he's done, I want you to slowly lower me to the ground and bring me my wand."

They did as I instructed and then released everyone else from their spells while I attempted to heal myself. It was no use. I couldn't do anything more, and without medical attention the gash running across my entire abdomen would most likely get infected. Blood was still seeping through where Alfred had attempted to bind my skin back together and my vision was beginning to swim more forcefully.

"Shamra, I—"

"Just go, Ginny! I'll take care of everything. You need medical attention and you can't get it here!

I grimaced. "Thanks, Shamra."

Shamra nodded and I activated my portkey. Elsa was sitting at her desk and dropped her teacup when I appeared inside her office.

"Sorry—about—the carpet," I managed, and then I fainted.

I woke up several hours later to find Emily propping her feet up on the foot of my bed and reading a magazine.

"You never learn, do you, Ginny?"

"I guess not," I said, grinning at her.

"You know, I did some research on the Voldemort guy who's terrorizing Britain."

"Did you? What did you find?"

"Just that he used to be a Prefect, and then went on to be Head Boy at Hogwarts. Top in all his classes, supremely popular, and every professor's star pupil."

"That's Tom all right."

"So seriously, what went wrong?"

I thought about it. Tom Riddle was an orphan, just like Harry, although Tom was obsessed with blood lines and his parentage, very unlike Harry. He lied and cheated his way through Hogwarts, gaining trust and alliances through bribery, stealth, and blackmail, where Harry worked his way through everything, finding friends in those that were trustworthy and cared about him for who he was on the inside, not for who the press made him out to be.

"You know, Emily, I really don't know. Lord Voldemort is obsessed with immortality- probably because his mother died giving birth to him, and he's infatuated with purity because of his bloodlines. He hates his father for leaving his mother, and also because of his being a Muggle."

"No way! You mean that Voldemort is really a half-blood?"

"I know. He keeps his followers based on a lie. They all think he's pureblood and so they, being mostly purebloods themselves, support him based on that fact. A rather large oxy-moron, isn't it?"

"Quite. Well, would you like to hear your damage report?"

I groaned. "I imagine that I racked up a few marks, didn't I?"

"Oh yes," Emily said conversationally. "We spent a good four hours mending up your internal organs and then a good half hour fixing the dodgy spellwork on your abdomen. Honestly, whoever helped you out there ought to have his wand broken in half."

I laughed, and then groaned, clutching my stomach. It was still rather sore.

"That would be Alfred, Beth's new assistant. He was the only one available and I couldn't do anything myself, being immobilized like I was. I didn't want to risk being brought down without a seal having at least been attempted- I didn't really fancy my intestines spilling all over the floor."

Emily nodded. "Well, I guess in the circumstances, you did all you could. You'll need to keep your movement to a minimum for at least a week- I would put any other patient on bed rest, but we all know that won't happen with you, so I'll just tell you to take it—"

"Extremely easy," I supplied for her. "I understand."

Elsa came in shortly after that, and brought with her more pictures of my baby. He would be two in four months- I couldn't believe it had been that long.

"I've had contact with my cousin, and she says he's doing well. Progressing and developing in almost all areas right on schedule."

I looked up from a photo of Exavier swinging on a tire swing. "What do you mean, 'almost all areas'?"

"Well, he's nearly two, but he hasn't spoken a single word yet. He just won't talk. He nods, points, uses sign language and pretty much fends for himself if he needs something, but no vocal words have come out of his mouth."

"He's not mute, though?" I asked nervously.

Elsa shook her head. "No. He cries and makes noises when he plays with his toys, but he just doesn't talk. She seems to think it's a conscious choice of his not to talk."

I nodded. "But he's all right, otherwise?"

"Oh, yes. She sent a picture he drew- here." She handed it to me. It was a drawing with wizarding crayons, and was crude, but I could tell what it was immediately. A rough, green dragon with shooting flames was flying around the paper. I clutched my pendant.

"I'm coming, baby," I whispered. "Not too much longer now."

I spent the evening of June eleventh in my kitchen with Shamra and Beth, who had been newly informed of my residence, drinking Honeydukes Chocolate Martinis and discussing (okay, laughing at) the new political campaigns of the ministerial candidates. In between speeches on the Wizarding Wireless Network, we talked about our dreams and aspirations. Beth's didn't surprise me- she wanted to pay her dues as an assistant in the Ministry and then work her way up to Department Head of International Relations. She already spoke four languages fluently and wanted to work to improve trade, harmony, and cooperation between the major wizarding powers of the world. Shamra's, on the other hand, did. I would have thought she would have wanted a similar career route to her friend's, but she confessed (after her third martini) that what she really wanted to do was become a fashion designer.

"Didn't you make the costume you wore to the fair that one year?" I asked.

She blushed. "Yeah. I did it at first because I thought it would have been something you would do, but ever since then I've been making most of my own stuff. That day I was captured inside Wanda's Wiley Witchwear I was trying to show Wanda my design portfolio, but I got taken before her assistant had even brought her out from the back. All my drawings were ruined when I was dragged out of the shop."

"Oh, Shamra!" I cried. "That's awful! You must have spent months on them!"

"Yeah," she sighed.

"If you designed clothes, I would totally wear them. I bet they would be great."

"Yeah, Sham," Beth agreed, readily. "You should make Ginny some clothes and then whenever the press accosts her, she can plug for you!"

"Would you do that, Ginny?" Shamra asked, her eyes shining.

"Of course I would."

"Then you could be known for your own REAL name," said Beth. "Everyone will want a Shamra McCloud outfit because Ginny Weasley wears them!"

"And then I wouldn't have to shop anymore," I added. "I could have all my clothes tailored specifically for me. It would be brilliant!"

We discussed designs for a while and Shamra took down my measurements. I couldn't wait for my new clothes. Having a real designer make things specifically for me was something I had always dreamed about being rich enough to afford when I was a girl, and here I would get them for minimal price (although I would make sure Shamra got what I thought they were worth- at least double what she was asking).

"What about you, Ginny?" Beth asked. "What's your dream?"

"Me?" I asked. Wow. No one had cared before- not since Harry, and that was years ago. And my dreams had all changed since then.

"Yeah, go on, Ginny," encouraged Shamra. "Tell us."

I wanted to tell them I didn't have any dreams. I wanted to tell them that just simply living was a dream enough, but I couldn't lie. They were the closest things to friends that I had, other than Emily and Elsa, and they lived countries away.

"Well," I began, slowly, "I guess I want to get rid of Voldemort. I want revenge for everything he's taken from me."

Shamra carefully set down her glass. "Oh, Ginny, that's so sad. I always thought dreams were happy, but yours is founded on bitterness- not that I can blame you. I'd feel the same way in your situation."

"Me too," agreed Beth. "But what about after, then? Your dreams can't all be so goth-like. Say you rid the world of Voldemort, what do you want to do then?"

Shamra grinned. "You'll retire, won't you?"

I nodded. "I guess you could call it that. But there is something I want to do."

"What is it?" asked Beth.

"I want to go to India. I suppose I would retire there. I want to go where I can live in peace and no one will know me from any other person that walks the streets. I want to be able to go to the market and buy my potion ingredients without being harassed by the press. I want to live in a nice, clean, airy house with a screened in porch where I can invite friends over for tea. I want to be able to sleep with my windows open and not worry about the cold, or Voldemort sneaking in. I want…" I stopped. Did I dare?

"Go ahead, Ginny," said Shamra, gently. "You can tell us."

I sighed. "I want to see my son again."

"Your son?" Beth squeaked. "But I thought—"

I nodded. "I know. Everyone thought that he died- I had to make it that way. He would never have been safe if he had stayed. If Voldemort wouldn't have gotten him, Hermione would. You both know that, you heard her."

"But she's been to India!" cried Shamra, aghast. "On her peace tours- that was one of her stops!"

"I can't believe she didn't find him!" breathed Beth. "You must have hid Merlin exceptionally well."

I grinned- I couldn't help it. The martinis had relaxed me like I hadn't been in years, and the laid back company was doing wonders for my affect.

"That's the thing- my son's name isn't Merlin. When that woman asked me what his name was she caught me off guard, so I said what most people do when they can't think of anything to say—"

"You said 'Oh, Merlin'!" cried Shamra. "Everyone mistook it for the baby's name when you were really just cursing! Oh, Ginny, that's brilliant!"

"I guess so. So that's why she hasn't been able to find him. She's been combing the four corners of the wizarding world for a baby named Merlin when she should be looking for a baby named—"

"NO!" cried Beth. "Don't say it! What if someone overhears?"

I shook my head. "No one could- this house is more secure than Hogwarts. Harry, Dumbledore and I made sure of it."

"You don't have to tell us, Ginny," said Shamra, softly. "It's probably the best kept secret in the world- I wouldn't want Voldemort to get his hands on it on my account."

"Mine either!" said Beth, fervently.

I smiled. "Thanks, girls. I know you wouldn't tell, though." I held up my wand and shouted a nonverbal incantation with all my strength in my mind. In a moment, the baby picture I had copied from Elsa's of my son flying on a broom shot into the kitchen. I held it out to Shamra and Beth, and their eyes welled with tears.

"This is my baby," I said, softly. "His name is Exavier."

"He's so beautiful, Ginny," Shamra whispered.

"I've never seen a more gorgeous baby," Beth concurred.

"Thank you," I said, banishing the photo back to its hiding place.

"So you're going to go after him again, aren't you?" asked Shamra, referring to Voldemort.

I nodded. "What else can I do? Until Voldemort's gone, I can never be the mother my baby deserves."

"Even after everything he's done to you?" Beth asked, worriedly. "Aren't you afraid you won't make it? Couldn't you just let the Aurors do it, Ginny? We couldn't bear to see you hurt again."

I shook my head. "That's the problem, Beth. I can't just sit back and let him take control. If I want something done, it seems I have to do it myself. The Ministry is hopeless and the Aurors aren't too much better, not while they're in the Ministry's control. I've tried to let go, I've tried to not care- it never works. I'm going after Voldemort, because if I don't do it, no one will." I took another sip of my martini. "I guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks."