Harry Potter and the Secret of Lils

Rachel E. Thompson

Email: racheview@yahoo.com

Web page: surf.to/genova or genova07.tripod.com

Rating: R

Category: Action/Drama

Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Harry and Co.

Summary: Voldemort won and imprisoned the world under his regime. Now six years later, a new resistance called Lils struggles on their crusade to free the world again. So where does Ginny Weasley fit in? H/G, R/HG, N/L. OoTP Spoilers.

Author's Note: This is my sugar baby fic! It practically spawned on its own, and I've been possessed to finish it ever since. So here it is, my mauling of a classic tale by J.K. Rowling. Enjoy.

***

Chapter One. Breaking of Bliss

"Mum! Mum!" A young boy shouts filled the canopy of trees. Rays of sun kissed the green leaves, then fell down to pool on the forest floor. Through the patches of foliage, a blur of black and blue shot across the ground. That shape was in fact a child of six years, whom jumped over roots and ducked under low tree limbs. The raven-haired boy dashed up a low cline hill, into a decent sized clearing. There, a small, but charming hut sat under a matured oak tree.

The little kid ran up a grass beaten path, only to cause the family chickens to dart around. There was a big uproar of clucks and ruffled feathers. He swept past their lone dairy cow, which eyed the boy in distaste. It mundanely chewed on long stocks of grass, not surprised with the antics of the youth. The child disregarded the farm animals completely, as he moved up to his house and continued to shout for his mother.

He threw open the old screen door, it bounced on the doorframe when it slammed shut behind him. The six-year-old entered the hut through the tiny, but warm kitchen. Within the room, the aroma of a delicious pumpkin pie mixed with a beef stew. Warm sunlight hit the walls from the open windows, and naturally lit the space. Within the small kitchen were all the things needed to cook a meal. Along with a small, circular table, which could sit three people.

A redheaded woman stood over an old cast iron stove. She waited to pull a freshly made pie from the oven. The twenty-one-year-old Ginny Weasley smiled quietly to herself, as she pulled the tart out. The witch held a deep sadness to her, which was most evident in her haunted brown eyes. Her plain features spoke of a graceful, but strong woman that had been through hell. Her hair had darkened to an auburn color, and she swept it back atop her head in a very lazy fashion. Rebellious red strands fell down along her ears and the nape of her neck.

She was so caught up in her preparation for dinner, that when Ginny turned to set her pastry down to cool, she almost spun right smack into the dark haired boy. She gasped and managed to hold onto the pumpkin pie. "James Harry Potter! Merlin! How many times have I told you not to run in the kitchen? You know that it's dangerous! I could have burnt you! Honestly, when will you—!"

"Sorry, mum," James interrupted with a halfhearted apology. His large, green eyes flicked from his mother back towards his right arm. He yanked the sleeve of his blue shirt up with his small, but honey sticky fingers. He then raised his elbow for her inspection. There, Ginny spotted a large red welt that had become as commonplace on his skin as his dusting of Weasley's freckles. "Mum, I got stung by those bees again!"

"Jamie… When will you leave those honeybees alone? Their honey can't be that sweet" she scoffed, but amusement laced her tone. Her son gaped up at her from under his fringe of wild, raven hair. His large green eyes looked pained. He stuck out his lowered lip and pouted slightly, but the sight looked ridiculous with his face colored in golden honey. "But it's yummy, mum!"

"You're hopeless," she sighed in defeat. "Alright, hold on a second." She set the pumpkin dessert down, and then walked across the small kitchen towards a series of cabinets. The redhead retrieved a blue, v-neck bottle from a collection of multicolored containers. She returned back to her small son, "come here, sweetie, I'll fix it." The dark haired child grinned, before he all but hopped over to her. He allowed her to apply the blue salve to his wound. There was a soft aqua glow, before the bee string receded down and away. "Here," Ginny leaned over and kissed his elbow. The boy's face twisted in half disgust, and half amusement. "All better!" They chimed together, and shared a grin.

"Mum, can I have some pie?" James asked, as his mother corked the bottle. Ginny eyed him seriously before she shook her head. "Certainly not," The redhead told him, as she set the healing potion away. "That's for dinner and besides, it's too hot to eat right now."

"Aww!" James grumbled, as he stomped his foot and watched his mother go back to the stove. He quickly gave up his put off attitude, as he trotted up to her side. His eyes locked on the delicious looking tart, while he addressed his mother in a lighter tone. "Mum, when's Remus comin' back?" Ginny flicked a glance up at their clock, Remus Lupin's hand inched from work to traveling.

She went back to her beef stew, and stirred the boiling brew. "He should be here by and by, Jamie. He does have to sell those fresh eggs. Then pick up some things. Why?" The boy scowled in a similar way that his late father would, the child looked so much like Harry Potter that it was uncanny. On occasion, it seemed the only thing that he had inherited from Ginny were the freckles and her excellent eyesight.

"He'll never see the baby snakes hatch if he don't come back soon! He's leaving tomorrow cause of the full moon, and he'll never seen 'em then!" The young mother rolled her eyes at her son's adoration for animals of the non-cuddly kind. He reminded Ginny of her own childhood, where her brothers would chase after frogs and crickets for hours on end. Of course that naturally wouldn't upset her, growing up in a house full of boys gives one a slanted view. The redhead shivered, as she recalled a recent memory. James had let a large collection of hairy spiders loose in the house. 'That would never, EVER happened again,' she thought darkly to herself.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," She told him, as her eyes again flicked towards the clock. Remus's hand moved to traveling then slanted towards home. "Be patient, he'll be here shortly" just as she finished, there was a loud greeting from outside the hut. "Remus!" James shouted, before he tore out of the kitchen and left Ginny behind. The witch shook her head, as she watched him shoot out of the screen door. It slammed loudly behind him.

Outside, she could hear Remus Lupin let out a bark of laughter. It warmed her heart to hear the sound. Ginny swelled with pride, as she realized it was her child that brought a little happiness to her friend. The war had been so hard on the werewolf, and it showed through his now completely gray hair. More telling wrinkles appeared around his fascinating eyes, and kind face from years of stress.

 They had been an unusual pair to be tagged together. Both were in the mists of a heavy depression, so consequently, they tiptoed around the other. That was until James was born. A real smile came to her face, as she thought about her adorable youngster. James had fallen in love with Remus from the moment he laid his eyes on him. In return, the older werewolf treated the boy like an adopted son and showered him with affection.

The poor screen door banged open again. A happy James tugged Remus inside. The child's steps bounced, as he listened intently to the older wizard. Lupin paused mid sentence, as he glanced up to look at Ginny.

"Hello, Ginny." He called to her and caused the young woman to grin. She came forward and embraced him in a friendly hug. "Remus, welcome home. How was your trip? Uneventful, I hope?" His green-blue eyes flashed slightly. In the six years together, Ginny had become pretty good at picking up his moods. The slight flicker in his eyes as they darken to a bluer shade, and thinned lips, meant he was upset. She knew he was naturally put off about the full moon, but this was different. Not everything had gone smoothly while he was out. "Here are our supplies we needed," he told her instead, as he handed off a small bag of food. "I still have a good forty galleons left over."

"I see," she replied, but her tone implied that she wanted to know what really happened. However, little James tugged at Remus's worn, black trousers before she could ask. "Remus, I forgot to tell you! I found a nest of snakes!"

"Did you now?" The wizard asked. Remus's eyes flared a happy green, as he looked at the excited child. The dark haired boy bobbed his head and grinned widely. "Yeah! Come look! Come on, come on!" James then pulled on the werewolf's hand, to lead him back outside. Lupin threw an apologetic look towards the young mother. Ginny just laughed at their antics and let them head back out into the sunshine, while she put the new items away. She would have to ask Remus what had happened later.

***

Ginny sat quietly by her son's bedside, her eyes fixed on a small window. Out there, the blackness of night had set in. She could hear the tree frogs and crickets sing to the cool air. She let her brown eyes move through the dimly lit bedroom, it was not a room that rivaled any of her older brothers. It wasn't a loud orange, or filled with the latest gags, or even piled high with books. James's little blue room was almost bare except for his bed, dresser and a handful of toys. By all accounts it appeared that they had just settled into the hut, and didn't plan to stay long. It was a perfect reflection that her son was not just any ordinary boy, but the son of the Boy Who Lived.

Her eyes landed on her overactive child, who was wonderfully asleep. Ginny's breath caught within her lungs as she looked upon her entire world. The redhead mother was struck with a dreadful feeling. This moment of peace was not to last. The witch sighed forlornly, as she stroked James's messy black hair.

Voldemort. The dark lord was after her son and had been for six years. The murderer seemed so far away, while the trio lived contently in the forgotten countryside. The One Who Must Not Be Named was a constant danger and kept the three of them imprisoned. The monster had taken her son's father and so many others, and he wasn't finished yet. Even in their seclusion, they heard the whispers of what happened back home. Dark, horrible things that chilled her very soul…

The Ministry of Magic had long ago collapsed under the first wave. Voldemort had elected himself dictator in its place, with his army of Death Eaters behind him. He disposed of the Muggle form of government. The Queen of England and her family hadn't stood a chance against the magic welding maniac. It hadn't stopped there, as he moved on the neighboring European countries. Thankfully, he still met strong resistance from most of Asia, Australia, and the Americas after all this time. There had been a mass population shift into those countries. It came to no surprise when Voldemort called for a mass genocide on the population of Muggles and Mudbloods. Then again, with his new decree, that no witch or wizard may use magic, it was only a matter of time before he killed the magic-less welders too. That was if they didn't die from poverty, disease, slavery or sentenced to death by Voldemort's order.

The redhead's eyes clouded over, as she ran her fingers through her child's hair. She sometimes wished Harry were still alive. However, if the man she loved was alive, he would have had dealt with Voldemort – so this would of all been a mute issue to begin with. 'Oh Harry… What am I to do?'

James mumbled in his sleep, before he settled out again and nuzzled her hand. Was her little Jamie destined to go off and fight Voldemort in the place of his father? It was a concept she couldn't bare to phantom, if she had anything to say, this precious creation of hers would never deal with the weight of the world. Yet, it seemed fate had a way of repeating itself. Voldemort was after her son. There was nothing she could do, as he was obsessed with finding the child, as much as he ran the planet Earth into madness. What was in her son's favor, and not in his father's, was it was known Harry attended Hogwarts nine months out of the year. Another and most important advantage, was there was no connection between the boy and the dark lord. Unlike with the Boy Who Lived, who had been forced to suffer first painful visions, then later possession by the evil wizard.

At dark times like these, Ginny would wonder if Harry and she had rushed in their decision. Perhaps they should have waited until after the danger had faded, before they furthered their relationship. At least then, her poor child wouldn't be faced with the possibility of having to face Voldemort.

The witch's hand stilled, as she turned her attention back to the window. 'What does it matter?' That night was unstoppable, the young pair had been terrified of losing one another. Harry had said there would be no consequences and she believed him, or rather hadn't cared if there was. But there was one big consequence. How she had suffered those weeks afterwards, then the sixteen-year-old girl she was, struggled to decide if she should tell her lover she was pregnant. Regardless, Harry had known and told her that much in his last moments alive. When Ginny looked back on her final days at Hogwarts, she could see that he really had picked up on the signs. In return his subtle gestures, the perceptive looks and even his thoughtful words responded in turn.

The redhead closed her dark eyes as she felt tears build. The ache in her lungs built to succumb to another cry. It was still all so raw to think of. At times, Ginny felt she would fall into the pit of despair that Harry left within her soul. Sometimes, she believed she would go mad if she were force to hear his last moments alive one more time. Others, she felt like she was broken already and only lived for her son.

So, what was she to do? James didn't know, nor understand the nature of which Harry had died. All that he comprehended was what needed to be, and his childish curiosity was appeased for a time. As days went by, Ginny was aware that she would have to sit him down and explain the hows, and why fors. It was not a conversation she looked forward to – but she feared it would be sooner rather than later.

Ginny knew this bout of worry held a true reason behind it, otherwise she would not still be in her son's room prolonging the talk with Remus. Her very blood seemed to vibrate with the sense that something wicked drew near to their little hut. Her brown eyes shifted upwards to the open doorway, while a determined grimace came to her face. There was no use in procrastinating anymore. She had to talk to the werewolf, before he left and wouldn't be heard from for three days. The young mother quickly bowed over to kiss her son's forehead. The witch rose to her feet and headed out to find Remus Lupin.

It didn't take much work to find the older wizard in the hut. He was seated in front of the fire out in the main room, his small satchel of things packed for his trip. He stoked the flames with angry jabs, obviously still upset with what had happened while he was out. When the young witch cleared her throat, Remus glanced up and put on a fake smile. "Asleep?"

"Finally." She told him, careful to look over his tense figure. The redhead decided that this topic wouldn't do to be danced around, so she jumped right in. "So, what happened?" While the former professor stalled for a moment, he returned his eyes back to the fire.

"There was more talk in town." Instantly her blood chilled, she knew where this was headed. Remus reluctantly glanced back at her. This time a grim look had slid across his features as he explained. "They say that Voldemort has done away with the Eastern Army. China's resistance has fallen… It will only be a matter of time now."

The energy was sucked from the redhead. Her hand gripped the door jam, as she gaped at the man. 'No. No! Damn it, no!' The older werewolf seemed to read her as well as she did him, because he approached her. He gently led her to the sofa and sat her down. Ginny stared unseeingly ahead, while Remus seated himself beside her. Her brown eyes shifted back to the wizard who looked twice his actual age. "That's not the worst of it."

"W-what?" Her voice trembled to her dismay. "What is it?"

"Death Eaters were spotted northeast of here."

"No…" She gasped, her hands trembled as she brought them to her face. "They can't have found us, could they?" Remus shook his head dispiritedly. "I can not be certain. From what I overheard, they were simply moving through." Ginny closed her eyes and lowered her head. She just knew she had been nervous for a reason. "We'll have to leave soon I'm afraid. I would have liked to leave tonight, but I can't risk it in my condition," he said bitterly. The werewolf looked back at her. "I would feel better if you left with James tomorrow morning, Ginny."

"Leave? I can't leave you, Remus… What if…?"

"Shh. Come now, I've taught you all you need to know, incase you have to face Voldemort." Ginny's lower lip trembled, as she thought about that worst-case scenario. "I know you're a strong young woman. I know you can do this. You have to."

"Remus, but how will you find us?"

"You forget that I am a werewolf," he replied as light as the situation would allow. He gestured to his nose, "your scents are as known to me, as the moon cycles." Ginny felt the corner of her lips quivered upwards. If it had come from anyone else she might have been a little revolted by that statement, but coming from Remus it was a privilege.

"Alright." She caved before she stood and went to get ready for the morning, since she figured she wouldn't be able to get much sleep this night. She headed off to check the emergency-flee-kit. Long ago, she and Remus had come up with a small bag that contained the magically shrunken requirements, in case they should ever have to run from a squad of Death Eaters. It pained her Gryffindor courage to have to spend a life on the run, but it didn't make her unreasonable either.

Remus watched her disappear down the hall before he glanced back at the fire, an unhappy look upon his face. He closed his eyes and sighed loudly. He leaned into the sofa and waited, as he heard Ginny busy herself in her bedroom. He was so lost in his darken thoughts, that his heighten senses almost missed a queer sound. It was a soft twanged like a violin string snapping. He knew what caused it. Lupin shot to his feet and went to the window. The former professor leaned over to peer out into the night. "Ginny!" He called fiercely, even as he pulled his wand and made for the door. The redhead hurried back into the main room, a worried look adorned her face. "Get Jamie, Ginny! Take Harry's Firebolt and go!"

"What?" She cried, as her fingers tighten around a small brown pack. Ginny's face paled dangerously, as she was struck momentary motionless. Remus reached over and shook her shoulders, "Ginny! Go! Now!" The redhead gaped at him a second longer before she cried, "what about you?!"

"I'll divert their attention. Merlin, girl! Do as I say!" Ginny looked at him miserably, before she nodded and rushed into her son's bedroom. She reached over and snatched the sleeping boy from his fitful dreams. James wailed and whined about being awoken but his mother ignored him entirely. "Mum! I was sleeping!"

"Not now James! We have to leave!" Ginny frantically ran into her small bedroom, she went to her closet. She paused long enough to sling the brown bag around her shoulders, and then flung open the closet doors. The redhead pushed the clothes aside, then dug around for a broom handle. The witch reached into the back and retrieved Harry's beloved Firebolt. It had been one of the only things, which Remus had gone back and recovered from Hogwarts.

She hurried back to her waiting son, who grumpily rubbed at his green eyes. He scowled up at her and made to pout, but he was yanked back up into his mother's embrace instead. Ginny ran them back out into the main room, then outside into the night. When she stepped out the screen door, she was hit with an awful bout of black misery, even worse, gripping fear. The frogs and crickets that had just been singing had grown unnaturally silent. Dementors were close by.

Ginny shook away the dark thoughts for the time being. She went to Remus. The wizard stood with their traveling cloaks, but his eyes were fixed northwards on the tree line. There, was where the danger approached. He looked just as affected by the magical beings, but when he turned back, the former professor did a better job of hiding it.

"I'm giving you all our savings," he told her as he dropped a small satchel into the emergency bag at her side. "You'll have to fly fast, Ginny. Don't stop for anything." She nodded curtly at his order. Remus slid her cloak over her shoulders, and then helped James get into his. Ginny's fingers tightened around the worn broom handle, as she bounced her confused son against her hip. The small child shivered in fear from the approach of the dementors. "Remus…" She begun to say, but the sentence died as quickly.

Remus reached forward and ruffled James's hair. "Take good care of your mother, wee-Jamie." The boy didn't reply as he hid in his mother shoulder, affected by the dark magic. The dementors were getting closer. "Good luck, Ginny. I'll see you soon enough, I promise." The werewolf whispered, as he returned his sadden eyes back on her. The redhead was fighting a bout of tears, as she stared up at her old professor. "Remus, p-please take good care of yourself." He nodded before he reached forward and embraced her.

"You too. Now, fly!" She pulled away with a longing look at him. Swallowing hard, she all but threw the old Firebolt on the ground. "Up," she commanded and the magical item leaped into the air. Ginny mounted the broomstick and settled her unsteady son in front of her. With one final glance back at Remus, who smiled warmly back at her, she drove the broom up above the trees.

That's when a low but ghostly howl echoed through the forest. Ginny immediately push the fast broom away from her beloved home and her friend. She fearfully peered behind her, as they sped away. A large group of Death Eaters, with five Dementors erupted from the north side tree line. "Mum! Who are they?" James inquired faintly, as he spotted the enemies rush towards the brave Remus. Ginny grimaced, as an explosion of magic spells lit the little clearing. The thunderous echo startled the little boy within her arms. Before now, they had not use magic on a grand scale. "Mum! Remus is…!" Ginny turned her attention to the dark horizon, as she sped the broom off towards it. "Mum! We can't leave Remus!" James shouted over the deafening wind. He was in a full panic, but the witch painfully ignored the little child. Her brown eyes blurred with tears, as she gripped the broomstick tightly.

James whirled around as best he could on the small seat. His large green eyes wide with fear and confusion, how she wished she could erase that look. "Mum! We have to turn around!" Ginny shook her head. "Hush, we can't go back!" She told him forcefully, as she pushed the broom faster. The howl of the wind increase, just like the grief that rose within her chest.

Ginny feared she would never again see Remus Lupin. How she wished she could do as her son willed and return to the werewolf, but she knew that it was a bad idea. Her first order of business was to protect her child.

"But!" James begun, with a sniffle as his eyes grew wet with the oncoming of tears. Perhaps he was old enough to understand that Remus was in deep trouble with those men. Ginny bit her lower lip. He would know death, misery and lost.

"We can't go back, James." She told him stubbornly. This only incited a wail from her son, as he collapsed into sobs. His face contorted into misery, as he turned his gaze back towards the direction of the hut. By now they were a mile away from where Remus fought for his life. For a long time the only sounds were their breathing, James's sobs that dissolved into hiccups, and the sad howl of the wind. Around them the shades of night blurred together, with only the bright stars to guide them to their destination.

"Please" James asked after a time, tears still dripped from his brilliant shade of eyes. Ginny heart twisted as she looked at the misery etched across his little face. "James, if we go back those men will surely kill us." He turned very pale at her answer. "Like Dada?" The witch's eyes lifted back to the horizon. There, the sad, three quarter full moon rose up into the sky. It bathed the land with an eerie blue-white light. She softly replied to James's horrified question with a, "yes."

***

"Name" a gruff soldier barked out over the heavy downpour of rain. Around him in the streets, a crowd of people, young and old waited in line for their turn to be allowed admission into the city. The squalls of babies and occasional coughs from an older adult filled the space, as they waited. In the back of the group, Ginny shivered from the cold and slightly from stressed nerves. In her arms, James mumbled in his sleep. His feverish forehead pressed into her neck. His skin clammy, while his lungs made a whistle sound when he breathed.

They had rode for a solid two days and nights away from home. Her motherly instincts to tend to her ill child conflicted with her smarts to get further away from the Death Eaters. Finally, if given the choice James might catch his death, or being discovered… She would choose to stop and heal him. Besides all that, she was utterly exhausted, not to mention so hungry that even the branches on the Firebolt had looked appealing. So she landed at the first city, which looked the least overrun with Voldemort's Army. After she shrunk the broom and placed it into her pocket, Ginny headed towards the city checkpoint.

Birmingham, a large city situated on the southwestern half of Britain. She supposed it was a wonderfully, grand place in its yesteryears. The architecture looked to be a blend of modern Muggle design and Victorian era style. Around the large city untended gardens were scattered through out, some accented with statues – the historic ones lay crumpling on their stoops. The atmosphere was already a dreary place, without the sheets of cool rain to aid to the dismal setting.

The redhead grimaced as she tugged her soaked hood further over her head. Ginny reassured herself that her son was still nestled under both their traveling cloak. She tried to ignore how her drenched back was prickling, as drips of rain rolled down her shoulder blades. Her brown eyes moved back up towards the front of the line. They were finally second in line.

"Name," The same middle age soldier demanded. He peered suspiciously through the shower, at the couple in front of him. Voldemort controlled the military within Birmingham. That was certain from their black uniforms, and the Death Mark emblems adoring their coats and hats. Thankfully though, there was a lack of Death Eaters, that meant her son and she might skinny through unnoticed.

"What's your business here, in Birmingham?" The man demanded, his expression darkened as he eyed the young couple directly in front of Ginny. When the nervous answer was given, the soldier shook his head and motioned to his commanding officer. The gruff lieutenant addressed the taller and lanky looking captain, whom glanced over at the fearfully shifting duo. He then nodded sharply and waved two lower classed, privates over. "Take them away," he ordered loudly at which time the pair in front bulked and turned to one another. "No! Please! It's true; we're only here to see my aunt! Please!"

"Next!" The same lieutenant snapped out as the young man and woman were dragged forcefully away. Ginny's brown eyes lingered on the panic-stricken pair, as they were shoved towards a large building to the side. A ping of fear overcame her then, but also a fit of anger, she couldn't understand how these people could do this. 'It's not right!' She glanced back; the same suspicious soldier was eyeing her with a dark gaze. "Move it along," he growled as the witch came to a stop in front of the unattractive man, "name!" Ginny already had an alias thought up in the time that she was waiting. "Molly Ann Porter." The man didn't react to her name. He did shifted uncomfortably in the mud, but it seemed more because of his long work shift. His beady eyes glared straight across at hers, as he demanded the same question he had been order to, "what's your business here, in Birmingham?"

Ginny gestured to her son, as she had the perfect reason. "My son, Jamie is sick from traveling. I was hoping to find a doctor." It was a simple explanation, not too much and not too little. The older man glanced down at her hidden son, who deliriously mumbled into his mother's neck. The lieutenant's dark eyes showed no emotion either way for the child, or her reason.

"Alright, you can pass. Next!" He shouted and allowed Ginny into the unlikely safety of Birmingham. She didn't dare glance backwards for fear being called suspicious. Instead, she walked at a natural pace. The redhead turned her eyes to the buildings on the outer fringe of the city. She had to find a healer.

She glanced around the faded window signs on darken shops. It didn't look promising with the number of abandon stores. The redheaded mother walked almost a half hour through the rain trodden streets, until she found the physician of the town. Ever since magic had been outlaw, public healers had to resort to Muggle methods. So she wasn't too surprise to find a doctor's office instead of a healer's. Dr. Samuel Carter's building seemed to be as run down as the rest within Birmingham. Ginny hurried up to the green door and knocked loudly as she could. She waited in the rain and hoped the doctor was still in. She glanced nervously up and down the cobblestone road, but as she did, she heard the sound of locks undoing.

The faded door opened to reveal a petite, old man with wild, white hair. It stuck up on its ends and frizzed out. He was dressed in simple black trousers, matching shirt and vest. His dark eyes settled on her from behind his thick-framed glasses. His face was drawn but it still somehow reminded her of her grandfather Weasley, with his merry little red cheeks.

"Yes, how may I be of service, madam?"

"My son is in need of a doctor, sir." She gestured towards James, and then glanced at the little man. "He's grown ill from our days of traveling." Samuel's eyes instantly soften, as he stared at the little boy. He smiled and waved her in, "quickly then, come in out of that horrid rain… Let's get him fixed up."

Ginny was thankful to be out the cold and into a warmer, drier environment. She watched as the old general practitioner hobbled away towards a table. He gestured for her to bring James to it. After she gently lay her son along the table, her fingers brushed his soaked hair out of his face.

Samuel came up next to her and pulled out his stethoscope. He rolled James's blue shirt up to expose his little chest. He pressed the device to it. He paused to listen, as he tilted his head to the side. This was the first time Ginny had ever seen a Muggle doctor work. It seemed to be tedious and drawn out when compared with Healers' magical examinations.

He nodded to himself, as he seemed to understand what the issue was. He rolled James's wet shirt back down before he reached for a digital thermometer. Samuel placed it in the boy's ear and waited a moment. It beeped when it was finished, after he looked at it, he turned and headed to a back room. Ginny stood alone in the small doctor's office, as she brushed James's messy hair into some type of order.

"Mum… Remus…" The little child whimpered in his sleep, his face contorted with pain. "…Dada." At the mention of Harry, Ginny stiffened and proceeded to try and soothe her son. James only addressed his dead father when he was in the midst of a night terror. "Shh, love… I'm here, I'm right here." Her cool fingers stroked his heated cheeks. James settled back into a deeper sleep. Ginny was so lost in her console, that she was startled when the doctor returned with a bottle of pills. He popped the white cap off and emptied out one white tablet.

"Here we are. I believe, your son has only gotten a mild case of the flu. He should pull through with rest, proper food, and this medicine I prescribe. However, I would avoid traveling for a few days to be certain he heals properly." Samuel told Ginny, as he force-fed James the Muggle medicine. He then screwed the cap back on, before he handed it off to her. The redhead witch smiled softly, "thank you, sir. How much do I owe you?"

After she had given Samuel his payment, which had been a reasonable nineteen galleons, she had headed off to find a local hotel. By the time she got checked into the inn and settled, Ginny was ready to fall into the bed and never wake up again.

Ginny tugged her damp robes off, before she went to have a shower and change into drier clothes. Once she had finished, she hung her son's and her own wet clothing up to dry out. The redhead stumbled back towards the lone bed of the small room. She stared sadly at James on the old bed, he didn't look so flushed as he had been. The witch walked over and set herself down beside him, before she tugged the covers up around her chin. The witch turned on her side and peered across the lumpy bed, at her sleeping, raven-haired child.

'I hope Remus is really okay, I'm not sure I can do this all by myself. I don't even know where to go.' The young mother sighed at her darken thoughts. Ginny closed her eyes, she listened to the loud patter of raindrops on the window across the room. 'Look after us, Harry. I fear things are going to get much worse then this.'

***

TBC