Ginny's Secret
Summary: Ginny Weasley is an average eighteen year old girl with a happy and hopeful future... until disaster strikes and she is left devastated. Will Ginny ever reveal her secret, or will she keep it hidden from the man she loves forever?
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, the characters and most of the settings aren't.
Authors Note: This is one of my favourite chappies and from here the story really begins, if you know what I mean. This is when the actual plot of the story is revealed- I won't give away any more but thanks very much to everyone who reviewed: you seriously don't know how much it means to me.
draco-lover59- thanks, you'll find out here! *winks* Please keep reviewing.
Me love draco- Heehee, thanks very much for reviewing. By the way, I totally relate to your name!
Bride of Malfoy- hope this keeps you happy :) please tell me what you think and thank you.
c-h-l-o-e-06- Cheers, I remember you from HGU! To be honest I like this even more than my old fics because I think it's so more original compared to my old stuff. Hope you like it!
Siriusly Mione- more of him in later chapters, especially next, where the main attention is round that pale haired devil! I love him! Thanks again.
Smokeline- did you think so? *blushes* Yep, Ginny and Hermione's relationship is also like some of my friends. A little less of Hermione here. Thank you for reviewing!
Chapter 3- Terrible Truth
Ginny slumped into the back of Hermione's wizarding car, the pulsing in her chest slowing to a dull ache. Hermione, who was sitting in the front, turned round and have her a reassuring smile, before starting up the engine with a flick of her wand and placing her hands on the steering wheel.
"It won't take long to get there, Gin. Don't worry. I know you don't really like Healers or hospitals, but they'll only just want to give you a check up and then we'll be out of there."
"I know, it's okay," Ginny said, who was gradually beginning to feel better. The car was whizzing along the road at a steady speed now, and she took in the warm, velvety interior of the vehicle. Cars were just beginning to get popular with non-Muggles, and Hermione had been one of the first to buy one. "It's a lovely motor," Ginny said, breaking the silence.
Hermione flushed. "Thanks- Ron still says cars are for Muggles, but I think he secretly likes them just as much as me. And this has all built-in magical systems, as well as the normal parts. This was proved to be the safest on the market at the moment," she said proudly, patting the car fondly with the tips of her fingers (of course, Hermione didn't take her hands off the steering wheel. She was far too sensible to do that). "I thought safety was very important, particularly with the little one on the way."
Ginny smiled. There was something about women who were expecting- a twinkle in their eye, and that healthy glow, just radiating happiness. Why couldn't she be like that? I probably look all sickly and pale, she thought miserably. On the plus side, she was almost feeling normal again, except for the thumping headache from falling on the floor.
"You know, maybe I don't have to go to St Mungos," Ginny announced. "I feel absolutely fine, so if you just turn back-"
"Oh no you don't," Hermione chuckled. "You're not getting out of this. Just because it's gone away, doesn't mean it won't come back. We need to make sure you're all healthy, instead of just assuming it. Here we are." Hermione stopped the car and helped Ginny out- they were in a Muggle high street. "Do you remember the way?" Hermione asked. "I do, so don't worry if you can't."
"Yes- I think so. I remember from what happened to- my dad." The memory of her father's near death experience made a lump rise in Ginny's throat and her stomach turn unpleasantly. "Look, I really really don't want to go."
"It's going to be okay," Hermione whispered, taking her arm and leading her up the street, completely unnoticed by all the passersby. "There it is- I've only been here for my scans, but I think the procedure's the same."
The familiar Purge & Dowse Ltd sign hung above the abandoned red-bricked building, with the ugly mannequins in the window. Hermione furtively glanced around, stuck her head in and said in a clear, commanding voice: "Ginny Weasley here would like to see a doctor please." The mannequin nodded and gestured for Ginny to enter the door on the right.
"Er- I'll see you later then," Ginny said, hugging her friend. "Sorry, but I have to do this, I'm doing it alone."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, then noticed the grim but firm expression on Ginny's face. "Okay then, but I'll Floo you tonight and you can tell me what the doctors said. And don't worry!"
Ginny waved as her friend walked away, feeling worried but determined to get it over with. At least if the results were grim, Hermione wouldn't know... and she wouldn't bother her friend, who had enough on her plate already.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, finding herself in a crowded reception area with a lot of other witches and wizards milling about. The whitewashed walls were adorned with many portraits smiling at her encouragingly, which gave her a bit of confidence. She glanced at the sign telling her where to go- but how would she know where to go, considering she didn't know what was wrong with her?! Taking a place in the queue to see the receptionist, she took deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves.
"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked once she'd reached the front of the queue, filing her nails idly. She was a short, squat woman with a lot of curly blonde hair and a name tag saying: "Sharon Bubblehead: Happy to help". Yeah right, Ginny thought silently to herself. She'd never seen a woman who looked less enthusiastic to please.
"I'd like to see a Healer please," Ginny whispered, struggling to speak. "I don't know what's wrong with me so I don't know which floor to go to."
The woman raised her eyebrows. "Well, have you drank a poison?"
"No."
"Fell off your broomstick?"
"No."
"Been cursed?"
"Erm, not that I know of."
The woman sighed. "Are you sure you're ill?"
"Yes," Ginny said, beginning to get irritated. "I keep fainting and blacking out."
"Hmmm. I'll get Healer Tylerman." She hurried off, leaving the people behind Ginny in the queue to groan and impatiently tap their feet (since many of them had somehow managed to get around seven each, this was a lot of tapping). Eventually she returned with a tall, bearded Healer in white robes and a kindly expression.
"Good evening," he said civilly. "Follow me please." Feeling slightly mollified by the polite manners of the man, she followed him just round the corner to an empty room with white beds and walls. "This is the room where people incapable of speech are examined," he explained. "So we try and find out what's wrong with them some other way. What's your name, miss?"
"Virginia Weasley," she said, watching the doctor scribble it down on his clipboard.
"Address and age?" She gave all to him what he asked- no, she didn't have any other medical conditions, no she wasn't asthmatic, and no she didn't have any allergies. After what seemed a lifetime, Healer Tylerman laid down his clipboard and told her to lay on the bed after removing her shoes, which she did, albeit nervously.
Hours passed, and Ginny began to feel like a poor guinea pig- it seemed like they'd prodded, poked and tugged her just about everywhere. Limitless amount of tests, samples and x-rays had resulted, and nobody told her anything- the Healers just muttered things under their breaths to one another. Her nerves had long gone, and instead Ginny felt hungry (she wasn't allowed to eat anything while they were using magical equipment), tired and a little angry. Why was nobody telling her what was wrong- and did they even know, for that matter?
On the plus side, Healer Tylerman seemed to be a very caring man, and tried to comfort her as much as possible. "We have to be sure of anything before we tell the patient, and we want to be as exact as possible in our prognosis. Don't worry Miss Weasley- we are experts at our job, and you are in the very best hands."
Ginny had smiled, but it hadn't been all that reassuring. Nobody had said she was okay, or healthy- in fact, judging by the looks on the Healers' faces, she probably should be worried. Pulling on her battered robes after another examination, she sat herself on the bed. "Can I have something to eat now, please?" she asked. "I haven't eaten since dinner time."
The Healer glanced at his companion. "I suppose so..." he said slowly. "We've done all the tests we need to do. Healer Garry, go get this lady something from the machines."
"What would you like?" Healer Garry asked.
"Some chocolate please," she said. "I need to keep my strength up," she said defensively, noticing the Healer's expression. "Come on, I've had a hard day. A girl needs her chocolate and you can't be healthy all the time."
Ginny gratefully accepted the orange juice and chocolate she received, and she munched away while Healers continued to mill around the room, taking notes, carrying potions and whispering things to one another. There seemed to be around six or seven of them- surely that meant it was something serious?
"Can you tell me what's wrong now," Ginny said loudly to Healer Tylerman, who jumped at the sound of her voice.
"In a second," he said unsmilingly. "I need to talk to my colleagues. Healers- in the corridor a minute. Miss Virginia, please stay in here."
All of them filed out of the room and into the doorway, shutting the door tightly. Ginny hesitated, but felt her anger bubble. This was outrageous! Why were they hiding things from her and sitting her all by herself? They were practically asking her to spy on them...
***
"Well sir," a young trainer Healer wearing pale pink robes said. "She's a young girl for such a condition isn't she? My great Auntie Mildred's got that, and she's sixty-three."
"True, but this kind of thing usually runs in families," Healer Garry said. "We got back the results from the Intimata spell, and it's as you suspected sir... it's her heart."
"Muggles are very experienced with these problems," Healer Tylerman said, shaking his head. "But in the wizarding world it's quite unusual. It appears her heart has a serious defect, one so serious it cannot be operated on."
"And she's so young and pretty, everything to live for," a stout female Healer said sadly.
"But how long has she got?" Healer Garry asked pensively.
"Well, taking into account all the examinations, the threatening nature of the problem and the lack of cures for such a condition- I'd say around six months," Healer Tylerman answered gravely.
A few seconds passed as the other Healers digested this, a few wiping away tears. A very sober atmosphere had settled over them all; for it was a rare occasion. "I know we're trained to deal with this, but it never gets any easier," someone mumbled.
"Ah well," Tylerman said heavily. "I guess we'd better break the news to her..."
"But sir," Healer Garry said, peering his head round the doorway. "She's gone!"
Healer Tylerman peered in the examination room, noticing chocolate crumbs scattered across the bed. At the other end of the room, the exit door was flung wide open, a half empty orange juice bottle dropped on the floor.
Ginny had heard everything.
Bit of a dreaded cliffie? Sorry but I couldn't resist! Oh, and for those thinking: there's no point carrying on reading this, please stick with it. It'll be worth it, I promise- at least I hope so, even if you don't personally like my story or style. Thank you for reading and please do me the honour of reviewing!