"The instruments tinkled into life at once with rhythmic clinking noises. Tiny puffs of pale green smoke issued from the minuscule silver tube at the top. Dumbledore watched the smoke closely, his brow furrowed, and after a few seconds, the tiny puffs became a steady stream of smoke that thickened and coiled in the air... A serpent's head grew out of the end of it, opening its mouth wide. Harry wondered whether the instrument was confirming his story: He looked eagerly at Dumbledore for a sign that he was right, but Dumbledore did not look up.
"Naturally, naturally," murmured Dumbledore apparently to himself, still observing the stream of smoke without the slightest sign of surprise. "But in essence divided?"
Harry could make neither head nor tail of this question. The smoke serpent, however, split itself instantly into two snakes, both coiling and undulating in the dark air. -Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix
Chapter 64: Essence, Undivided
Brogan was chilled to his bones. It was a foggy, early morning in London, and he felt the damp everywhere. There was a bite to the fog as well, which made him feel as though he'd never be warm again. Even though he cast a few spells to dispel that feeling, it still seemed to cling to him like a second skin. He had finished Hermione's thoughtful travel cup of coffee a while ago and was now thinking of ducking into the next open Muggle café he came across just to wake himself up again. He realized it had been around 15 hours since he'd last really slept.
The flat had not, as previously thought, been discovered. The Death Eaters had stumbled upon Tonks and her partner standing guard a few blocks away quite by accident. They also appeared to be under the order to attack first, question later. When Tonks had sent her Patronus back to the flat to alert any members nearby that help might be required, his father had responded.
And now here he was, looking for Solace when he'd much rather be…Brogan stopped his thoughts right there. It was selfish of him and also untrue. He knew Ginny had understood. She probably understood more than he did as to why he needed to be out in the god-forsaken chilly English air looking for his bloody father of all people.
After Tonks had taken down one of the Death Eaters, another had hit her with an upgraded type of Knockback Jinx that had sent her flying, only to then be followed by a rather hearty Impediment Jinx, which had stopped her cold. His father was then left fighting two Death Eaters by himself as Tonk's partner had already been dispatched before Solace had arrived. Tonks said she saw Solace try to lead them away from the flat and the more prosperous Muggle-area into a nearby park lined with a long copse of trees. That was the last she'd seen of him.
Lupin and Ron took the other entrance to the park, a long walk to the east. Brogan had opted to start out from where Tonks and Solace had fought the Death Eaters. He assumed he'd meet up with them in the middle. Somewhere. Although this part of the park was mostly trees, it wasn't heavily forested. Civilization was very near, in fact. Occasionally, he would hear a car pass or other city-dwelling noises that he'd actually forgotten about. Living in a private library along the Scottish coast did tend to make one forget there was a whole other Muggle-type world outside one's door, after all.
Brogan knew Solace wouldn't go down without a fight, and if he had led or pushed the Death Eaters this way, then this would be where he'd be found. Alive or dead, Brogan didn't know. He knew absolutely nothing about his father's actual ability to duel. Although Tonks had said he'd made a good showing of it, Brogan couldn't help but let his silent anxiety turn into a small snippet of fear at the back of his mind. Had they grabbed him? Killed him? Maimed him so that he was stuck somewhere, slowly dying? All of these scenarios ran through Brogan's head with alarming alacrity.
Suddenly Brogan felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up, and he immediately became more alert. There was an odd silence here – he could no longer hear anything past the last group of trees he had just walked by and stopped. He tried to reach out with his Empath abilities to see if he could sense Solace but felt nothing. But he knew a Silencing Spell when he didn't hear one and slowed his movements, partially standing behind a large oak tree.
Brogan let his wand hand stay at his side, idle, just in case there were any Muggles around. His wand was within reach, of course, stuck up the sleeve of his jacket, a second away from use should he need it. He inched forward bit by bit, trying to be as quiet as possible, just in case there were still unfriendly types about. He'd made a promise to come back to Ginny unharmed, and he was unashamed to admit that it was one promise he was keen to keep. She didn't need two lovers down for the count, and had it not been for the fact that it was his own father out here somewhere, Brogan doubted he would have left her. But as it was…
He heard a low murmuring noise coming from in front of him and stopped, trying to determine if it was coming from the left or the right side of the trees. The only way to get closer was to head up the middle of the path, and Brogan didn't like his odds if he went that route. Too easy to get hit with something. Choosing the right side, he skirted ahead and let his wand slide quickly into his hand. Feeling braver as it fit comfortably into his grip, Brogan took a silent, deep breath and headed forward. The murmuring was growing louder, and suddenly he knew it was his father he was hearing, recognizing the sound from his youth. His father was muttering an old protection spell, and it was designed to keep bad people out and allow people who didn't want to do harm in. Its only drawback was that it had to be said out loud and repeatedly. Brogan hurried forward and then came across two legs sticking out from under a large shrub. He'd recognize those over-priced loafers anywhere.
"Solace," Brogan said out loud now, crouching down. His father moaned, and the murmuring stopped. Brogan used his wand to cast his own spell, keeping them hidden for the moment.
"Brogan? Is that you? What are you doing in London?"
"Aye, you old blighter, and I'm here to save your arse, apparently. Are you hurt?"
Brogan cleared away the broken branches and leaves and saw why his father had not been able to move his legs out of the way. He was laying at an awkward angle, as though he had fallen from a great height and, judging by the amount of greenery and debris around him, he had. Brogan looked up at the tree he was lying under and swore.
"Bloody hell? Did they toss you up the tree?"
Solace coughed, a painful one, by the sound of it, and Brogan realized his father was trying to laugh.
"More like I tossed them up there, and they fell on me." His father tilted his head to the left, and then Brogan saw the two limp bodies of the Death Eaters behind him.
"Are they…?"
Solace nodded his head and winced. "Aye, I think so. Or if they're not, they're the best actors of all time. Haven't heard a peep from them for an hour. Is that Miss Tonks okay? I tried to lead them away from her."
"She's doing better than you," Brogan said, moving his wand over his father to see if anything was broken. He sighed as the spell turned red. "You're in a world of pain, aren't you?"
"'Tis but a scratch," Solace murmured, and Brogan had to bite back a laugh as he looked at his father.
"You're inches away from probable death, and you're quoting Monty Python at me? Brilliant." Solace gave him a painful smile and then promptly passed out.
Brogan aimed his wand to the sky and shot off his Patronus to let Remus and Ron know where he was. He started trying to move his father into a better position and then sat back on his haunches, shaking his head. He felt relief coursing through his body, and Brogan was more than a little surprised by how much relief. It appeared he cared more about his father's welfare than he'd previously thought. Bloody hell.
o-o-o-o-o
"Now, this one in the yellow bottle is a type of slow-acting awakening potion. It's fallen out of favor at St Mungo's, but I have always thought it better than casting a spell to gradually bring someone 'round. I want you to administer it once in the morning and once in the evening."
Ginny nodded as Avery continued to go through Harry's new potion regime, taking notes and feeling like someone had unleashed her inner Hermione. But she didn't trust her own memory to get it all in order, and since Brogan was still in London taking care of his father, it was down to her to get it right.
"Next is the Rejuvenation Potion; it's here in the red bottle. This needs to be added to his Strengthening Solution and only a few drops at a time. And finally, this one in the green bottle, this is the most important, Miss Weasley. It is an old formula, too, but hopefully, it will do the trick. It's a type of… well, it's called Vocatio Hominem, a type of potion intended to find someone who is lost. It's one of my own personal variations, actually. I found it in an old grimoire in Alexandria's archives, where I did my post-Hogwarts study. This is the one I am most anxious to see if it works on Mr Potter. Give it to him every 24 hours, but it has to be at the same time each day. So, if you give it to him now, make a note of the time and then do it again tomorrow and so forth. Any questions?"
Avery looked at her expectedly, and Ginny re-read through her notes. She finally looked up at the healer, giving her what she knew must look like a tired smile. "I think I have it. But, if you could look over these to make sure I didn't miss anything?" Ginny handed her the "clipboard" Hermione had conjured for her to write on. She went to stand next to Harry as Avery read through her notes. Ginny let her hand run through Harry's hair and realized it had been a while since someone had done a cleansing spell on it. She used her wand to do a thorough one now and then dried his damp hair with another flick. Smiling as his hair stood up as it always did, Ginny bent down and kissed his forehead. She realized Avery was waiting on her and turned back around.
"It looks like you have it, but make sure you don't mix up these two here," the healer said, pointing at a set of directions on the parchment. Ginny nodded and then used her wand to separate the two sections so as not to confuse them.
"Well, I'm off to London to help out there with Mr Ward. I never knew agreeing to meet Remus Lupin for coffee out of the blue would make my life so busy! Is there anything you'd like me to pass on to anyone there?"
Ginny was tempted to have her say something to Brogan, but shook her head. Avery left, after checking Harry over one last time. Ginny sat in the chair next to the bed, feeling her exhaustion creeping up on her. She listened for any sounds from the residence, knowing that she was alone again. Since the London attack, the library had ceased to be the place of activity, mostly since checking up on Harry just laying in bed became a bit old after awhile. Her family was, surprisingly, giving her space. She mused to herself that perhaps, finally, they'd realized she was actually capable of taking care of herself. And of taking care of Harry.
Hermione tried to keep her updated on what was going on, of course. But even she was opting to stay in London more and Ginny had the run of the library to herself. Even Kath only popped in to check on the various potions she had brewing, and besides, the other girl and Ginny were hardly the type of acquaintances (or women, for that matter) for idle chit-chat. When the loneliness became too much, Ginny would sometimes chat with Dumbledore's portrait of all things. He was not very forthcoming with answers to any of her questions, but it did prove to be an excellent conversationalist about the history of magic or spells. And the portrait was always keen to hear how Harry was doing – as though Ginny had anything other to say except, "he's resting comfortably."
Also, it appeared Voldemort was making his presence felt again. The last time Remus Lupin had been by he had explained there was no real rhyme or reason to the attacks – they simply appeared to be about causing as much damage and mayhem as possible. Very few lives had been lost, though, so that was a good thing. Ginny felt a bit useless, stuck at the library, but she had long ago got used to that feeling, thanks to Harry forcing her to be at the Abbey for most of her school year.
Ginny did miss Brogan, though. It had been a week and a few days since his father had been injured, and he'd only been back once, to let her know he was all right and would be in London until his father was on the mend. Brogan had seemed almost apologetic about it, as though embarrassed to admit he cared about what happened to his father. Ginny hoped Brogan was letting himself actually get to know his father instead of wasting his time being argumentative. The two men did seem determined to bring out the worst in each other, from what Ginny could tell. Perhaps Brogan and Solace's similarities rather than their differences were what caused it.
After giving Harry the Vocatio Hominem potion and making a note of the time, she climbed onto the bed, dimmed the lights, and curled up next to him. He seemed warmer to her lately, or maybe that was just wishful thinking. She hadn't felt even the slightest stirring of the Copulatus Spell, and that worried her, but she was thankful for it. Ginny didn't know what she would do if she was overcome with the need to be with Harry while he was unconscious. Probably go mad if she really thought of it. Perhaps that time with Brogan and the memory of Harry had been enough to feed the compulsion. Ginny frowned to herself because that explanation didn't feel right to her. She raised her head and looked at Harry as though he had the answer for her. She'd grown accustomed to talking to him while he slept, mostly when no one else could hear her, true, but still, a small part of Ginny liked to think that he could.
"Everyone misses you, Harry. They're all out there fighting, and you're having a lie-in. It's done nothing for your reputation, you know, love." Ginny brushed his fringe off his head and sighed. She longed for him to open his green eyes and laugh at her or yell at her or…do something at her. She sighed and lowered her head to his chest, the constant beating of his heart keeping her hopeful, yet lonely company.
o-o-o-o-o
"We are within sight of our goal, aren't we, Severus? The container is almost full."
"Yes, my Lord."
Voldemort could not withhold his glee as he stared at the sickly, greenish colored-liquid that filled the container in front of him. Even though the idea of it made his stomach turn, he never thought he'd be so pleased as to see Essence of Harry Potter sitting in front of him. But this would be what he needed to finally win against the annoying brat. Taking back what was his would only make him stronger and weaken the boy – no longer could Potter ride on his coattails, using his own power against him. Voldemort considered that he should have done this years ago after he'd realized a bit of his own essence had joined with the Potter child by mistake.
He turned to his most faithful follower and smirked. "And how goes our plans at the Ministry? Has Lucius checked in?"
Severus nodded his head slightly, still remaining in a genuflected posture. Voldemort briefly lowered his wand hand, letting his servant know he was allowed to stand. After a moment, Snape rose and lifted his head to meet his eyes. Voldemort moved forward and touched the tip of his finger to the other man's chin, staring into his eyes briefly. He pulled his hand back after a moment, chuckling.
"Honestly, Severus, your distrust of Lucius is almost…humorous. What has he done to court your disfavor?"
"It is not my place to speak ill of my fellow brethren, My Lord."
Voldemort held back a snort and peered at his Death Eater in amusement. "But your Lord requires your honesty, so please, feel free, dear Severus."
"Lucius is weak. He…does not seem as motivated at taking down the Ministry as I would have once thought, my Lord. I fear he may be planning to join his family in France."
Voldemort paused. "Strange that I have not felt such deceit from him, myself. Where do you get your information?"
"One hears talk, my Lord…from certain…circles."
"Indeed. Well, let us call Lucius here to see if he has an answer to your accusations."
Snape bowed his head as Voldemort raised his sleeve to touch his dark mark. He paused for a moment. "You have something else to add, Severus?"
"I have no qualms about facing Lucius with my claims, my Lord…only…it would be much easier for us to catch him in the act if we wait."
Voldemort lowered his sleeve and gave his follower a smile. "Yes, perhaps. Never let it be said that Lord Voldemort did not adhere to the belief of innocence before proven guilty, after all."
His laughter filled the room as he swept through it towards the door, knowing that Snape would follow him. Yes, everything was coming together rather nicely. He could hardly wait to take control.
o-o-o-o-o
Brogan rested against the doorframe of the room that had become his father's makeshift hospital bed and held back a smirk as he watched Solace try, rather badly, to flirt with Avery. He wondered how long it had been for the older man because he was decidedly awful at it. But Avery seemed to appreciate it at any rate; she more than politely laughed at all of his father's terrible jokes. Indeed, the Healer seemed to find his father charming. A point which had Brogan shuddering to himself. But he reckoned it meant his father was indeed on the mend if he could make his own Healer laugh heartily at him.
"Here," Avery said now, handing a small order of potions to Brogan. "Make sure he's taking that sleeping draught. He's quickly on his way to feeling better, but I still don't like his color. Or the dark rings around his eyes. He's not getting enough rest."
"Neither is anyone else because he's bossing us around on how to take care of him," Brogan stage-whispered, and Avery's eyes crinkled in amusement as Solace grunted behind them.
"Don't let him give you any guff," she said, chuckling. "He'll be out of that bed in no time." She lowered her voice so that only Brogan could hear her. "Don't mention it, but I've just given him a bit of something so he can take a nap. Just talk to him until he gets drowsy."
She said her goodbyes as Solace waved at her and then motioned for Brogan to take the seat nearest to the bed again. It was where he had been spending most of his time the last week or so. Surprisingly, he and his father had been utterly civil to each other the entire time. Brogan thought it might be a minor miracle of some sort. It was either he and his father had finally learned how to not antagonize each other, or it was the calming drafts and all the other soothing potion ingredients he was on. Perhaps, they had somehow mellowed his father out.
For his money, Brogan's bet was on the potions.
"Aye, she's a fine beour, Avery. Lovely, lovely, lass," Solace sighed and then smiled at Brogan.
"She may be a wee bit young for you, Da," Brogan said, holding back a snort at the look on his father's face. It was a cross between full-on lovesickness and wistfulness.
"Just because I'm on the shelf doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view, son. Now, are you going to keep reading to me until I drop off, or would you like to indulge your old father and have a bit of a chinwag?"
Brogan glanced at the book Solace had suggested he read at the start of the week – The Ghosts of Belfast – and shrugged. "We can talk a bit. As long as you behave."
"Ta, and I'll try to be on my best behavior. So…any word about Harry?" Solace inquired after a beat, and Brogan shook his head.
"Still no change."
Solace nodded, and neither of them said anything for a while. Whenever his father became chatty, Brogan usually tried his best not to offer any subject matter or topic they could argue about. This basically left them with the weather. And books. But Brogan had found that they engaged in less fighting this way. But he prepared himself when he saw his father give him a sharp look.
"I admit I'm surprised by how long you've stayed with me, Brogan."
"Why's that then?" Brogan asked, keeping his voice even.
Solace gave him a puckish sort of smile. "I would have thought you'd want to be close to Miss Weasley in her hour of need."
Brogan didn't say anything at first and then sighed inwardly. He finally tried for what he hoped was a diplomatic tone. "Ginny knows I'm where I need to be for now. She understood when it happened that I needed to be here."
Solace nodded agreeably. "And I am grateful for that. I think I forgot to mention it at the time, but I am thankful you came back to find me, son. It meant a great deal to me. Let's face it, if you hadn't found me, I'd probably be pushing up daisies right about now."
Solace laughed offhandedly, but Brogan met his father's eyes and could feel the truth of what his father had said. He decided to meet it with some truth of his own.
"Well, despite everything, you are my closet kin, Solace. And…well, Harry and Ginny want me to try to have a relationship with you." His father raised his eyebrow at this statement. "They're hopeful about things like that. Harry, because he's always wanted to have a relationship with his father and Ginny, because her family is amazing. They don't really understand how hard this is for people like us."
Solace gave him a steady look as though thinking about what he'd said. He finally shook his head at Brogan. "It must drive you absolutely barmy that the two people you care about the most want you to actually talk to me."
"I'm trying for our sake, Solace. Not just because they want me to." Brogan felt proud for not rising to the obvious bait and felt as though he'd just leaped ahead in emotional maturity. Bully for me.
Solace only hummed in response, and Brogan felt a bit dismayed to recognize that he'd apparently got that habit from him. His father looked drowsy, and Brogan knew the potion Avery had given him was probably kicking in. This was perhaps why the verbal gymnastics his father was so good at were at a low point right now. He waited until Solace started dropping off – his eyes eventually staying closed and his breathing evened out. Brogan thought about what his father had said, and his thoughts inexplicably returned to his two favorite people.
If he were honest with himself, Brogan was missing Ginny something fierce. The first few days after finding his father had been chaotic and full of anxiety. But he had wanted her to have some peace and quiet with Harry. He did not need her worrying about him or his father. But the last couple of days had found him rethinking that decision. He could remember right before his mother had died, and people had left him alone, too. He recalled how lonely it could feel to tend to someone who did little more than sleep. So he had already made up his mind to return to the library, but talking with Solace had really brought home to him that he had another place to be.
His father, like Avery had said, was definitely on his way to getting better. And their relationship was not going to be mended in a week, Merlin knew. Although Brogan felt closer to the elder Caley than he had in a long time, he knew he should not tempt fate. In the past, too much time spent in Solace's presence usually made Brogan go a bit mad. Not to mention he didn't want any progress they'd made to be ruined by too much exposure to one another. His mind made up, he stood and pulled the blankets higher up on his father and went to find Kath or Hermione to let them know he'd be leaving soon.
o-o-o-o-o
Ginny was standing on a desolate beach, not a sign of life anywhere for miles. Just the water rushing towards the shore in its demanding way, hitting her feet and legs as she walked along the edge of the beach. It was almost painful, and the water was freezing. It felt like icicles against her skin.
She recognized the beach from her dream about Aine from before, but she did not know why it had changed. No longer a warm area bathed in sunlight, it felt as though the seasons had changed and that winter was fast approaching. It was perplexing to her, but she trudged on, not exactly sure where she was going.
After what felt like a long time, Ginny finally saw something up ahead of her and tried to hurry her step – anything that would end this monotony of walking would be a welcome respite. Maybe she could even rest. Because even though she knew this was a dream, Ginny felt exhausted.
When she finally reached the object, it suddenly became clear to her – it was the building from before, but it looked just as desolate as the rest of the beach, and it did not appear anyone had been there in a long time. She forced herself to walk up the steps, and she sat down in one of the rocking chairs that was there, if only to stop for a bit. Ginny stared out at the great expense of the ocean and land in front of her and felt only sadness. There was now dampness in the air, and she felt as though it were seeping into her very bones…
"Mo'beag'aon, our time is short. We must speak, now. This is not how I originally saw things turning out, I must admit."
Aine's voice was rough, as though not used to speaking, and Ginny knew the woman had suddenly appeared in the chair next to her. But she did not turn her head; she did not want to stare and be rude.
"It is all right, Ginevra, you may look at me. But I am afraid you may not like what you see."
Ginny took a deep breath and then turned her head to finally gaze upon Aine. She was no longer a beautiful young woman. She was an old woman — a crone would be what some might describe her as. But Ginny was surprised to find that she still saw something remarkable in the old woman's expression. Her sky-blue eyes, so much like Brogan's (why had she never noticed their color was exactly the same?) still blazed with power and intensity.
Aine gave her a small, almost grateful smile, as though hearing her thoughts. She looked out towards the ocean in front of them. "I cannot stay long, but your Anam Cara, he will wake soon. But it will be different. Paths that were once weaved together have spread apart now; some are even lost. But he will be the stronger for it, I think, in the end. The love in your hearts, in all your hearts, will protect you now, mo'cheann."
Ginny felt herself frown. "You always speak in riddles, and I never know what you mean when you talk to me. Why have you grown older? Why is this place now so…desolate?"
Aine did not say anything but started to rock gently in her chair, the soft creaking noise almost a comfort against the sound of the crashing waves. "I cannot tell you what I do not know, mo'cheann. Although, I have a few ideas. Of course, I will not tell you what I don't want you to know." Aine finished this statement with a gentle smile, but her eyes sparkled with ferocity.
Ginny frowned. There was a feeling in the air between the two women – as though this was to be the last time Aine would ever speak to her. She gazed at the other woman, suddenly compelled to give her thanks.
"I hope I have done right by you, Aine. I…I tried. I realize I never got to say thank you for this gift. You have made Harry's life better by allowing me to protect him from Voldemort. I am not sure…I will ever be able to repay you."
"Repayment is no longer necessary, mo'beag'aon. Surely you have known that for a while now? Your Anam Cara will not let you go, and I find I no longer have the power to do anything differently. Even if I could, my child, I am not sure I would." Aine paused and gave her a sober look. "You have been a true heir, Ginevra. The love you have given and shared is more than enough to release your family's duty to me. Tell my descendant…tell him it is as it should be now. I will require him for only a little while, for as you can see, my time is almost up."
Aine stood up then, a wince across her face as though it pained her, but then it smoothed, and for a moment, Ginny saw the Aine she had met the first time – the young maiden, flush in her youth and full of vivacity. She smiled at Ginny, and then she was gone, as though she had apparated away, but it felt more like she had just…willed herself to disappear.
Ginny sighed as she too got up and began her walk back down the beach…she had her life to get back to. She had her Anam Cara to wake up. He had been allowed to slumber for far too long…
o-o-o-o-o
When Ginny awoke, there was just the dusky light from the fire in the room. She was still curled around Harry, and she checked on him, but realized he was still unconscious. She frowned and tried to think about what Aine had told her. Well, if Harry was supposed to wake, he clearly hadn't received the message. She sighed as she sat up and almost jumped out of her skin when Brogan suddenly came into the room.
"Sorry!" He exclaimed as she brought the lights up, aiming her wand at the door and then, subsequently, right at him. She shook her head at him.
"I wasn't expecting there to be anyone here. You scared me to half to death!"
"Sorry, I thought you were asleep. I just checked on you, and you didn't seem like you were going to wake up anytime soon."
Ginny put her hand on her chest, willing her heart to stop its frantic beating. "You're lucky I wait before I fire off hexes. Unlike some people in my family."
Brogan nodded solemnly, and then his face broke into a wide grin. His eyes then moved over to Harry. "Any change?"
Ginny shook her head and got out of bed. Checking her notes, she realized it was time to give him one of his potions and started getting it ready. She looked at Brogan over her shoulder. "Are you here for a while, or do you have to go back soon?"
"Actually, I'm here for good. That is if you still want me." His voice sounded strangely unsure, and she finished what she was doing and then turned to him. She realized he was a sight for her sore eyes.
"Of course, I want you, you idiot. I've almost been at the end of my tether, to be honest. It's been lonely."
He walked over to her and pulled her in for a hug, his arms wrapping around her. Ginny felt herself relax a bit and breathed in Brogan's scent – she realized she'd been missing it. Missing him. She smiled to herself as he also now smelled of very strong coffee.
"How's your father?" she asked when they finally broke apart.
"He's much better. Avery really knows her way around someone who's been hit with nasty spells. Also, the regular medical stuff, too. I think Solace likes flirting with her a bit too much, though. Are you hungry? I know it's late, but I'm starving. I haven't had anything since your Mum forced breakfast on me far too long ago."
"I am, actually. Let's go scrounge something up, and you can fill me in," Ginny said as they dimmed the lights in the room again. She checked Harry's pulse once more, letting her hand linger on his face, and then followed Brogan to the kitchen.
"Your brothers all say hello, by the way. Bill's been back and forth, but he stopped in and told me to send you his love. He's been spending a lot of time helping someone named Fleur Delacour."
"Oh, that french blonde Veela from the Triwizard Tournament? Oh, no, bet Mum loves that. Actually, forget Mum, I bet Hermione's annoyed. Ron was kind of an idiot over her a few years ago."
"I don't know about that, but Fleur didn't seem that bad, the two times I've met her. She's become an Order member now, thanks to Bill's recruitment. He's helping her with her English. We seem to have a few french wizards interested in the cause, actually. Which Remus seems to think is a good idea."
"Did she work her feminine wiles on you?" Ginny asked, laughing and imagining it. Brogan shook his head at her.
"Wiles don't really work on me, even Veela wiles. I think it's an Empath thing."
Ginny merely raised her eyebrow and didn't say anything. She looked in the cold-pantry for something to eat. Brogan gazed at the contents over her shoulder. "How about some chicken soup? I can do a quick one. We've got noodles, and I can throw in some carrots and celery."
"Can we make it creamy?" Ginny asked. "Mum always makes hers creamy."
"Okay, if the lady wants creamy chicken soup, she gets creamy chicken soup."
Ginny smiled, and they set to work, cutting and chopping. Brogan had been right, he could do it quickly, and pretty soon, they were both watching a large pot simmer over the flame on the stove. Brogan glanced at her as he finished chopping some fresh parsley, dropping it into the soup as it boiled.
"I'm sorry, Ginny."
"For what? I haven't even tasted it yet."
"Hah-hah. No, I meant I'm sorry I left you here, alone. I'm sorry that you were lonely. I know how hard it is to care for someone who is out of it or unconscious. And yet I didn't think."
Ginny waved her hand at him to dismiss his guilt. She paused and then bit her lip as she thought about what he'd said. "Your mum?"
Brogan nodded. "Yeah, towards the end…well, she was sleeping a lot. And even though there were adults around, I tried to care for her as much as possible. I think I felt as though I owed it to her. But I remember feeling as though I would go crazy if someone didn't talk to me properly. They all treated me, if you excuse the expression, with kid gloves. As though I couldn't handle just talking about things."
Ginny reached out and touched his arm. "It really was okay, Brogan. He's your father, for Merlin's sake. I understood. When things like this happen, you have to do what you can. I hope the two of you talked instead of avoiding things, though."
Brogan linked his fingers with hers and chuckled. "You know, we did actually talk about..some things, without managing to hack each other off. It was…nice, but I'm almost positive it won't last. But he handled himself well against the Death Eaters. Shockingly enough."
"I don't know why; your father seems to be a competent wizard, all things aside."
Suddenly, the Tempus spell he'd set for the soup went off, and they broke apart. They were soon sitting down at the table, two steaming bowls of fairly delicious creamy chicken soup in front of them. They ate in silence for a while, and then Ginny remembered her dream.
"I had a strange dream just now, before I awoke. Probably why you thought I was out of it. Aine was there, but…she was an old woman. I sort of felt like she was trying to say goodbye."
Brogan frowned. "She was old in the dream?"
"Yeah, I thought it was strange. She reminded me of an old crone. She looked ancient, but her eyes were still full of life."
"Hmm. What did she tell you?"
"It was the oddest thing, Brogan. She told me Harry would wake up soon and that some paths that had been weaved together were now spread apart or lost. I've never known her to sound so…defeated, to be honest. It was unnerving in a lot of ways. I mean, she still talked in riddles that I'm sure I'm just thick about, but…
"It's her prerogative as an ancient prophecy witch to talk in riddles, you know that," Brogan said as he gathered their dishes. "So I wouldn't feel too bad about not understanding her right off the broom."
Ginny joined him at the sink and watched as he stored the remainder of the soup and started cleaning up. He looked at her and then flicked his wand, cleaning everything with magic. She smirked at him.
"Too tired to bother doing it the Muggle way?"
"Aye, and maybe I'd rather spend time with you rather than the bloody dishes. Come on, let's get comfortable."
They checked on Harry and then went to one of the other bedrooms, leaving the door slightly open, in case there was any change. They both removed their clothes without even thinking about it and settled into the bed. Ginny sighed, realizing how long it had been since she had felt human contact. Brogan started stroking her hair, humming gently under his breath. It was a lilting melody – sad, yet beautiful. And she realized again how much she had missed him.
"That's nice. Is it a modern song or something older?"
"Old. My father taught it to me when I was a boy."
"Does he sing too?" Ginny turned her head and looked at him. She could just make out his expression in the semi-darkness.
"Aye. I suppose I have him to thank for that."
"Really, it's Harry and me who should thank him. We both adore your voice, you know that." She turned her head so that she was resting it on his chest.
"I know."
She felt his lips against her head, and his arms tightened around her. She smiled a few moments later as she shifted and felt him against her hip. She raised her head, and she could see his blush, even in the dark.
"Reckon there was a reason we both got into bed without clothes, after all," she said cleverly.
"We don't have to-"
"Shh." Ginny silenced him with a kiss, shifting on top of him. His hands snaked up her waist, his fingertips just below her breasts as she sat back. "I think I'd quite like to be reminded of what it means to be alive right now. So, if you'll oblige me, Brogan?" She raised her eyebrow at him, daring him to argue, and he eventually smiled.
"I've really missed you," he said softly, moving one hand up to cup her left breast, her nipple hardening underneath his fingers. Ginny felt her body flush with something other than tiredness and worry and raced after it, wanting to feel more. She had been alone and untouched for too long, it seemed. Brogan moved his other hand in between her legs, and she welcomed him. Soon the room was filled with her eager breath as she rode his hand. Ginny let her head hang back and arched forward. Brogan shifted his legs up behind her to support her as she let herself go, moaning as he teased her, his other hand shifting towards her backside. She came ridiculously fast and grinned down at him.
"Guess I was overdue," she murmured, winking at him. He smirked as he turned them over, and he looked down at her, stealing a kiss before pulling back. She moved her hand down his body and felt his hardness. A thrill shot through her, and she pulled her legs back, guiding him in without much preamble. Brogan swore as her body welcomed him, and she nodded in agreement. It had definitely been too long.
He set a quick pace, apparently not wanting to linger. Ginny arched against him as he thrust into her, pushing her legs back with his own. Brogan usually touched her with such tenderness, but now it was as though he couldn't move fast or hard enough, pushing into her with force. She keened against him as he hit that delectable spot inside her again and again, and she writhed with pleasure. She thought of Harry, inexplicably, and Brogan shuddered as he, too, felt her desire. Their eyes locked, and Ginny bit her lip, letting her moan fill the air between them. "Yessssss," she breathed out as his hips rocked into hers. Brogan held her legs up and changed his depth, and Ginny felt herself let go as the pleasure came crashing through her. A few more strokes and he was following her. He cried out her name as he came, falling over her.
They stayed tangled together, and Ginny sighed, rubbing her hands along his back, saying his name softly. He eventually popped his head up and smiled gently at her, eyes full of his feelings. She reached over and pushed his hair off of his forehead, kissing him gently.
"Thank you," she said, nuzzling against him. Brogan shifted off of her and pulled out, his body falling onto the bed in a clumsy heap. She smirked at him as she turned on her side.
"What is that smirk for?"
"You just seem a bit done in. It was just a quick shag, Brogan. Hardly one of our marathons."
He laughed and then buried his head in her hair, pulling her close to him. "I'm out of practice. What can I say?"
"I'll need to start you on a brand new shag regime, is that it? Build up that stamina again, hmm?"
Brogan looked at her, smiling. "Give me a few minutes, and I'm sure I could rise to that challenge, Ginny."
She chuckled and rested her head against his. "I am so glad you're back."
"Me too. I'm…I'm sorry for before."
She looked at him, not comprehending what he meant. He touched her face and let one of his hands get tangled in her hair.
"When I was spending all my time with Kath, brewing, or chopping ingredients. I wasn't trying to avoid you or anything. I just…needed…some breathing room. My misery and your misery over Harry was not a good mix at the time."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Ginny said loftily as she stretched. He frowned at her.
"I had a feeling you were jealous. Was I imagining things? You have to know, Ginny, what we have…what the three of us have? It's all I could ever want. I'm honestly not interested that way in Kath anymore. I'm not interested in anyone that isn't you or Harry."
Ginny sobered and met his gaze. "I know that. And I was jealous at the time. I don't know why. It was stupid."
Brogan shook his head. "No, just human."
Ginny turned onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. Brogan curled around her, resting his head on her breast, watching her.
"Do you think Harry will be? When he wakes up?" Ginny finally asked.
"Do you mean do I think he'll be jealous because we've had sex one time without him?" Brogan paused when he saw her look. "That other time doesn't really count, as he was very much the impetus for that experience. Hmm. Good question. Are you honestly worried about it? Usually, I'm the one worried about…things, like that."
Ginny frowned to herself. "I'm not…sure. I don't want him to be, obviously. And what we just did…it didn't, I mean, I didn't feel as though we were doing anything wrong. We love each other, and Harry loves us, and part of me thinks he will understand that. I think there will be times in the future when the three of us can't always be together, after all. I mean, if we really do want to try and make this work with the three of us…well, I reckon we should figure this stuff out now, you know? Like, what if one of us is hurt or sick or…that shouldn't stop the other two from being together."
"When you had the miscarriage, Harry and I…we didn't do anything. We comforted each other and kissed, but…neither of us much felt like doing anything else."
"I was only out for a short while though, Harry's been gone for…" Ginny let her voice runoff, suddenly hating herself. How could she even think of sex while her love lay unconscious in the other room? She gasped and suddenly felt as though she couldn't breathe. She was a terrible person, wasn't she? A terrible, terrible slag of a woman, what on earth was wrong with her? Harry was going to hate them – hate her -
"Calm down," Brogan ordered, his firm voice suddenly breaking through to her. He reached out and held her hand, squeezing it. Ginny instantly felt calmer, steadier…less emotional. She gave him a grateful look.
"Sorry."
Brogan sighed and pulled her into his arms. "You shouldn't feel ashamed, Ginny. Or whatever else you were in the throes of right then. You just said it, we love each other too, and we needed to feel connected again. You are not a bad person. You have too much love inside of you."
"I just wish he would wake up."
Brogan ran his hand through his hair. "Me too. Everything seems a little less than when he's not around. As though all the color has run out of our lives or something. We're just stuck here with black and white and shades of grey. I feel like we're in limbo without him. Honestly, while we were shagging was the first time I'd felt normal since it happened."
Ginny nodded in agreement and knew that Harry would hate the idea of their lives being on hold because of him, but it was true. They settled down into the bed again, pulling the covers over themselves. Brogan eventually continued humming the same song from before, and soon he began to softly sing the words. She sighed as she snuggled closer to him. Her last thought before she drifted away was that if anything, Harry would be jealous she got to be serenaded to sleep and that he'd missed it.
o-o-o-o-o
Harry was walking down a long hallway. It felt familiar, but he couldn't place it. In fact, he couldn't remember a lot of things. He knew who he was, of course, but he didn't know where he was or what he was doing. Or even what he had been doing. His most recent memories were…blank. He could not, for the life of him, recall anything.
There was a light at the end of the hallway. It appeared as though it was moving further away the longer he walked. And Harry could hear voices. He thought he recognized them. He listened to his name being called once or twice and heard a woman laughing. It filled him with a wonderful sort of warmth. He traveled on, thinking about who this woman was because she sounded like someone he ought to know. Or want to know. And there was another laugh, lower-pitched and softer than the woman's, and he knew it was another man, but again, he couldn't quite place it. But it sounded like home to Harry - the two voices laughing and talking together. So he kept walking, wishing the hallway wasn't quite so long.
When he finally reached the door, he lifted his hand, intent on twisting the doorknob open and moving through it, but something held him back. He realized he didn't have his wand with him and frowned. What if the familiar yet not familiar voices were a trick? What if something terrible was beyond the door in front of him? What would he do if he didn't have magic?
Harry stared down at his hand and remembered using it before for magic. He concentrated really hard and tried to make something happen, but nothing did. He turned back the way he had come and tried again – this time holding out his hand while closing his eyes.
"Accio wand," he muttered the just-remembered words, hoping it worked.
It felt as though an age passed, but suddenly Harry heard a rattling noise and opened his eyes to see something traveling down the long hallway towards him. He smiled and extended his hand wider, laughing with absolute joy as his wand came flying into his hands. This Harry remembered – this feeling of wonder and magic and the sense of being whole pulsing through him. He twirled his wand in his fingers, grinning. It felt satisfying in his hands. Harry could feel his magic coursing through him as he never had before, and it felt incredible. He felt strong. He felt good.
At least this time he would have some help, he thought, as he stared at the door again. Taking a deep breath, he used his wand to open it, blinking as the bright light hit his eyes. Without thinking about it, Harry walked through the door, knowing that he was needed on the other side with complete certainty. There was work to be done.
What had been started needed to be ended, once and for all.
A few hours after Brogan and Ginny had finally fallen asleep, Harry Potter opened his eyes.
o-o-o-o-o
