Only Half-Weasley
Chapter 12
A/N: Here it is! I know a lot of you have been waiting for this chapter for quite some time and I have finally finished writing it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 14! I really appreciated the comments and the support!
Nightmares plagued Ginny into the wee hours of the morning. It would begin as a normal day, with Holly coming out of her bedroom and getting ready for school in the muggle word. Ginny would serve her breakfast and when she would go out to the porch to get the newspaper, Harry Potter would be standing at her door, demanding to know who she was and calling her a 'liar.' Ginny protested, saying that she had never lied, but he did not believe her. Then Harry's face morphed into Hermione's who looked at her critically. "Why did you do it, Ginny? Your family loves you."
"I had to! You know I had to!" Ginny cried in defense.
"Your family loves you, Ginny," Hermione repeated with a look of disappointment.
"I didn't mean to hurt my family! I didn't want to hurt anyone!"
But then the face would disappear. The room would disappear. The world around her became an abyss in which all sound, light, and feeling were sucked into never to exist again…until she woke up.
Paralyzed in her bed, the world became a mixture of dark shadows around her room. The soft humming of cars passing by her window barely registered as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. A dream, she finally thought. It was only a dream. Harry was not on the porch. Hermione never confronted her. It was quickly turning into a blur of sounds and colors. Yet, even with this knowledge, she did not dare go back to sleep lest she should meet her family again in her dreams.
Pushing her covers away, she slipped off the bed and sank her feet into her slippers. With the flick of her wand, the shadows disappeared and the painted walls reflected their beige color in the glowing light. Ginny walked into the kitchen, turning on lights around her with her wand, before sitting down at the table. She reached behind her and grabbed the drying towel, using it to clean off the beads of sweat from her forehead. Even after several moments, her body continued to tremble as if panicking over some new danger. When deep breathing failed to calm her nerves, she got up and poured water into the electric kettle and set it on the table. Perhaps a good cup of tea would do the trick, Ginny decided before heading unsteadily for the front door.
Outside, the newspaper was laying on the door waiting to be picked up. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when Harry failed to appear to curse her into oblivion. Walking back into the kitchen, she set the newspaper on the table and read the headlines. Politics covered the entire page, with opinions of who would be the next Prime Minister and what bills should be passed in the parliament. Though Ginny was living in the Muggle world, politics failed to interest her since it did not address her identity. Without reading another word, the paper was quickly discarded
"What if the muggles knew about magic?" Ginny wondered, staring at the waste basket for a moment. "What would happen if the Prime Minister knew about the hidden society embedded in his own country? Would officials be focusing on the same problems?"
For several hours, Ginny sat at the kitchen table lost in thought. As dawn approached, her thoughts turned to her daughter, Holly, who had locked herself in her room all night. The memory of the day before cut into her heart and left a deep wound. She understood her daughter's feelings and believed them to be valid, though she wasn't sure how to go about finding a solution. Her mind just felt so muddled and all she could do was sit in the kitchen, wondering what else could possibly go wrong in her life until her daughter appeared fully dressed a quarter before seven.
"I want to go back to school," Holly declared.
Ginny tried to look surprised, though she had a feeling that this would happen. "Alright, I'll call Profess-"
"No, you don't get it," the girl interrupted angrily. "I want to go back to school. 'Muggle' school where I have friends, a real future, and a mom who's not blonde and acting like someone else. I want my old life back."
Silence filled the room while Ginny studied her daughter. The tired look on the girl's face told of impatience and fatigue, something that the mother knew she was responsible for. Yet, in the depths of those brown eyes, there was also sadness—for what, Ginny wasn't quite sure, but it pulled at her heart and made her want to hold her daughter in her arms again like she did when Holly was little.
"I thought you liked it at Hogwarts," Ginny said slowly, trying to gather her thoughts.
Holly shrugged her shoulders and stared down at her shoes. "I do, but I'm not sure I can do this anymore. Why do you hide so much?"
"I told you why I'm hiding."
"But do you have to? So what if people knew that you existed. It never bothered you before," she countered.
"That's different."
"How so?"
Ginny pursed her lips together. "Because I have six brothers who would love to kill me when they find out that I'm alive."
"That's not true. You never mentioned having brothers," Holly argued.
"It is true."
"That can't be the only reason, though. You're hiding something," Holly said with narrowed eyes.
"What do you want to know?" Ginny returned.
"What are you hiding?" the younger girl returned, sitting across from her mother.
Ginny sighed, sitting back in her chair. "Nothing and everything."
"Who are you hiding from?"
"My family."
"That can't be it," Holly responded disbelievingly.
"What if it is?"
"Then you're lying. They are your family—they would be happy to see you back! Who is it? The police? The Ministry of Magic? Who?" Holly continued.
"Harry Potter."
Holly nearly fell out of her seat, her voice failing her for the first time. Yet, the look on her mother's face was genuine enough for Holly to realize that it was true. That of all of the things to cause problems, it was her Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"My teacher?" Holly said incredulously once she gained back her voice.
"Perhaps," her mother said warily, trying to hide a yawn behind her hand.
"Harry Potter," Holly repeated, trying to think back on that name. "So you really knew him? You knew my teacher?"
"I don't lie all of the time, Holly," Ginny said exasperatedly. "He was my brother's best friend...and we did date for a couple of months in my fifth year, but that was it."
"But why would you be hiding because of him? I mean, if it was over-"
"It wasn't," Ginny interrupted. "I thought it was, but I was wrong."
"What happened?" Holly asked carefully, though with anticipation.
"We split when Harry left to fight Voldemort," Ginny explained simply. "He was gone for almost a year and in that time, I didn't hear from him. I waited, though."
"Really? Did he come back?"
"Of course he came back," she replied with a laugh. "He wouldn't be your professor if he didn't come back! He returned the summer before my seventh year after he defeated Voldemort."
"Then what happened? Did you start all over again?"
Ginny bit her bottom lip, looking down at her cup of tea. The look on her face seemed to convey a vast array of emotions—hurt, disappointment, pain—that was embedded deep in her heart. "No, he avoided me like the plague."
"Like the plague? But didn't you see Harry again? You were both working for the Ministry, weren't you? Surely he would have wanted to see you," Holly pointed out.
"I thought so, too, but he didn't come back. He was always off with Ron and Hermione until he announced that he was leaving again." The memory of the night Harry announced his second departure flashed in her mind. It was at the Burrow and like usual he did not look at Ginny. The announcement was made, leaving a dull feeling in the pit of Ginny's stomach. He never said a word; never even looked at her. The message he was sending to the young redhead was quite clear.
"Mum?" Holly asked, noticing her mother's face suddenly drop. "Are you ok?"
As quickly as it came, the message and memory were pushed out of the older Ginny's thoughts. "Yes, I'm fine. What were we talking about?"
"You said that Harry left you, but I can't imagine him doing that. Why would he?" Holly asked unbelievably.
Ginny stared down at the table, her eyes staring fixedly at the wood while tracing the paths it made with her finger. "I think he wanted space," she said at last. "He was young, immature, and I don't think he knew exactly what he wanted. So, before I knew it, he was gone again."
Holly pursed her lips together. "So when did you meet dad?" she asked.
"About a month before Harry left," Ginny answered. "I finished my seventh year in school, graduated, and got a job with the Ministry of Magic. I met your father at a cafe during my lunch break. It was so crowded that there was nowhere else so sit, so he asked to sit at my table."
"And you let him?" Holly said, wearing a wistful look on her face.
Ginny laughed at her daughter's expression. "Of course I did! I'm not as cruel as you think I am!"
"Did you hit it off right away or did it take time?" Holly asked again, ignoring her mother's comment.
"Fast enough," Ginny answered seriously. "We didn't start dating until after Harry left, but we eloped about nine months after we met."
"You eloped?" Holly exclaimed. "You never told me that! Why did you elope?"
The older woman sighed, resting her head on the back of her chair. "I wanted to keep our relationship secret from my family. I didn't know how they would take me marrying a muggle."
"But weren't you close to your family? Your parents would have understood, wouldn't they?"
"With my mum blubbering about how I should marry Harry?" Ginny returned doubtfully. "She was so set on me marrying Harry and I didn't want to disappoint her. What she doesn't know can't hurt her and I don't think she would have understood."
"But that's not fair!" Holly said. "He didn't want anything to do with you and she still wanted you to marry him?"
Ginny shook her head. "I never did understand my mother, but it's not entirely her fault. What I did was not the smartest thing, but it was my first instinct. Harry did come back the summer after your father and I eloped, but by then I was nearly four months pregnant with you."
"Did he come back to you?" Holly asked.
Her mother looked away and stared out of the kitchen window. "He did."
"What happened? You didn't leave dad, obviously."
"No," she said quietly. "I told him about your father and we haven't spoken since."
"Why didn't you go back to him after dad died?"
A soft expression appeared on Ginny's face. "Because I had you," she said with a smile. "You were everything to me and my entire life. After you were born, what I wanted didn't seem to matter."
"You didn't go back because of me?" Holly repeated. "But why? Didn't you miss your family? Didn't you miss your world?"
"I did it for you," Ginny said again. "If you turned out not to have magical blood, I wanted to spare you the pain of having to live in a world that you could never be a part of. It wasn't easy, but I wanted to make sure that I did right by you."
"So you gave up everything for me? You gave up everything for me, even your family." A tear fell down the eleven-year-old's cheek and dotted her pale blue shirt.
"Of course I did," Ginny answered, grabbing her daughter's hand while handing her a napkin to dry her eyes. "You're my daughter and the last thing I have from my belated husband. I love you more than anything."
"Thanks," Holly whispered while wiping her eyes. "When did you learn that I had magical blood?"
"I didn't know that you were a witch until you got your Hogwarts letter in September. That's when every young witch and wizard tends to find out," Ginny explained.
"So you sent me to Hogwarts even though you never planned on returning to the Wizarding World," Holly stated.
"I wanted to give you the same opportunities that I had and let you make your own decisions."
"But what if I want to stay in the Muggle world and be like my dad? Why can't I do that?" Holly returned, looking determined.
"Because you can't make a good decision without knowing what you're saying 'no' to," Ginny argued.
"But now I know what I'm saying no to!" Holly challenged her mother's logic. "Why can't I stay here with you? You need me!"
"You promised to stay for at least a year, Holly," Ginny said giving her daughter a sharp look.
Holly looked imploringly at her mother. "So after this year, I can leave and never go back if I want?"
"If you think that's what you want," Ginny answered shortly.
"You left, so I can leave, too," Holly retorted.
"But you have nothing to run from."
"I have nothing to stay for. Everything and everyone I have ever known is part of this world - part of the Muggle world."
"Except for you, Holly," Ginny countered. "You are no longer a Muggle."
"And you are not a Muggle, but you choose to live here!"
"I left because of you!"
"So it's my fault now? Don't you miss your world?" Holly replied.
"I will always miss it," Ginny said sadly.
"Then why won't you go back?" Holly asked in exasperation. "What are you afraid of?"
Ginny thought for a moment, before answering. "Of having to explain myself."
"Who do you have to explain yourself to?"
"To my parents, my brothers, Harry, Hermione, everyone! The list goes on!" Ginny said, throwing her hands in the air. Just the idea of having to explain the same story over again and be hassled with a million questions overwhelmed her. "Everyone will wonder why I'm not dead!"
As her mother's arms fell towards the table, Holly caught her mother's hand in her own. "If they care about you then they will understand. I want to be in the same world as you, Mum, and I want to know the rest of my family; to be able to visit them sometimes. You did what you had to do at the time for both me and you, but everything has changed now. I need you with me, now. I want us to stay together."
The earnestness of her pleading words sunk into the mother's heart. Ginny pulled her daughter across the table and took her in her arms, crushing the younger girl's body in her tight embrace. "I will try, Sweetie," Ginny whispered in Holly's ear. "I will try."
"That's all I can ask, Mum," her daughter replied softly.
The same sun that peeked through Ginny's kitchen window did not bless Harry in the same way that morning. He tossed and turned, tired yet unable to let his thoughts rest. Though he tried to reason with himself, he could not reason with his feelings or his unusual sleeping behavior. By two o'clock in the morning, Harry gave up trying to fall asleep and left the sheets on his bed in a tangled mess. He used the floo to enter his office at Hogwarts where he found his broom hanging in the cupboard behind his desk. Then, he did what he always did when he was stressed; he headed for the Quidditch Pitch.
He sped through the air, weaving through goal posts on both ends, and then flying high into the air only to turn around and do a vertical dive straight towards the ground. The magnificent performance lasted for a good hour showing the invisible audience why he was once a Quidditch star. With a broad grin, he remembered the glorious feeling each time he caught the snitch and when Gryffindor won the House Cup three times. The stadium cheering, his teammates crushing him in excited hugs, and back in Gryffindor tower…Ginny running into his arms…the first time he had ever kissed her…
And in a split second, the disheartened feeling returned in the pit of his stomach and Harry slumped on his broom. He was so angry with her. He could yell and he could scream until his lungs burst. Why didn't she wait for him? Why did she have to leave? Why couldn't she understand that he needed time to recover? Why? Questions that were dying for answers, yet would never receive any. Perhaps that was the reason why Harry could not sleep...or maybe the real reason Harry was sitting on broom in the middle of the pitch black stadium was that his heart could no longer deny that it had been in love with Ginny Weasley, and time had finally revealed that he was twelve years too late.
"Harry, is that you?" a wavering voice called to him from the entrance to the pitch. Even without glasses, Harry could make out the familiar form of the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, pulling on her emerald cloak for warmth.
Harry turned his broom back to the ground and stood in front of the aging witch. "Merlin, Harry," the woman said to him, "I almost thought you were one of the students! What are you doing out here at this late hour?"
"Sorry, Professor, I needed to clear my mind," Harry replied lamely.
"Well," Professor McGonagall sighed, "that was some very impressive flying. I don't know why you did not choose to play professionally."
Harry grinned. "Trying to get rid of me, eh?" he joked, resting his broom on his shoulder.
"Never considered it," McGonagall replied shortly. "Though if you are going to continue your practice sessions at these hours in the future please let me know. This will save some aggravation on both parts."
"No worries; I don't think I will," Harry answered.
"No? Then I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your morning."
As quickly as she arrived, the headmistress disappeared again with extraordinary agility for one her age and leaving Harry alone again standing in the middle of the pitch. His legs had grown numb from the icy wind that stung his face and froze his skin. The headmistress' interruption had left him suddenly exhausted and urged him to find warmth and comfort within the castle walls. However, instead of heading towards the castle, Harry returned to his home in London where his tiredness quickly disappeared and he was staring up at the ceiling once again. With a sigh, Harry concluded that this would be a long night.
"Harry, you look awful," Hermione commented Sunday morning when Harry arrived at the Weasley's once again. Harry stepped out of the fireplace and collapsed on Ron and Hermione's sofa.
"Do I?" Harry asked in a daze.
"Yeah, mate," Ron replied from the dining room, shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Almost like you didn't sleep."
"I didn't." Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the immediate situation let alone what happened in the last twenty four hours.
"What?" Hermione responded, sitting down next to him. "Are you sick?"
"No," he answered quickly.
"Then what's wrong?" the bushy-haired witch asked, her face full of concern.
"Maybe it's the weather," Ron suggested, recalling that they've had the seventh storm of the season earlier that week.
Harry rubbed his temples, trying to think but unfortunately his lack of neurotransmitters in his brain reflected a black wall with nothing on it but the truth. Feeling that he wasn't ready to divulge that much, he just continued to stare blankly at the refrigerator.
"So did you find out what was wrong?" Harry asked curiously.
"Wrong? With what?" Hermione said with a confused look on her face.
"The refrigerator," Harry said with his eyes still fixed on it.
Hermione wiped her forehead on the back of her sleeve. "Oh, that," she said. "No, it still has that putrid smell. I think Meredith put a curse on it. It has smelled that way since we made her eat broccoli a few weeks ago for dinner."
"Smart child," Ron commented. "Sounds like something Ginny would do."
The words caught Harry's attention and pulled him even deeper into his thoughts. "It does…" he thought to himself, but instead looked at Hermione and asked, "Are you ready to go?"
"Almost," she replied, heading for the stairs. "Let me grab my cloak." Hermione put away the last of the breakfast dishes and filled the teapot full of water for later before she headed to her room.
Minutes later she had appeared with her cloak in her arms and the two set off from the house and headed towards Mrs. Miller's flat. Harry was unusually quiet, but Hermione did not say anything. Instead, she turned her attention to the various shops they passed.
"At least it's not raining," Hermione commented when they had passed by all of the shops and were now entering into the housing districts.
Harry looked at the sky with its thundering clouds. "It might as well," he answered. "It looks like another storm tonight." Just as the words left his tongue, droplets of rain began to pelt the two and they were forced to take cover underneath someone's porch.
"What luck!" Hermione laughed, resting her body against the door. "How far do we have to go?"
Harry looked around at the street signs, suddenly aware that he had not been paying attention to where they were. "We're here," he said, looking at the number on the door.
"Really," Hermione said incredulously while Harry knocked on the door. "We get luckier by the minute."
"Hello, Professor," Mrs. Miller said as she invited the two in. "Mrs. Weasley! I wasn't expecting you. Oh, Holly is in her room getting ready, but she will be out in a few minutes."
Hermione followed Harry inside the flat and sat down at the kitchen table where Mrs. Miller offered tea. "Just in time, too," Mrs. Miller remarked, listening to the downpour outside. "This must be the tenth storm we've had-"
"Seventh," Hermione corrected.
Harry shot Hermione an annoyed look, but the latter wasn't paying him any attention. Her eyes flew around the room taking in every detail she could while sipping her tea.
"How are you doing?" Harry asked.
Mrs. Miller smiled wanly. "I'm doing well," she replied. "Just a small headache now."
Harry nodded, but did not ask anything else. An awkward silence fell over the three while Harry was deep in his thoughts and Hermione was scrutinizing the kitchen. The spell did not break until Holly bounced into the kitchen in her Hogwarts robes.
"Hello, Professor!" she said brightly, but then saw Hermione sitting across from him. "Er…hello," she said to the familiar woman.
"Holly, you remember Mrs. Weasley?" Mrs. Miller asked her daughter.
"Yes," Holly said carefully. "You were there when Professor Potter broke my mum's nose."
Hermione laughed. "Yes, that was me," she said. "What a good a memory!"
"What are you doing here?" Holly asked, sitting down at the table.
Hermione and Harry exchanged looks. "I just wanted to talk to your mother," she answered. "Do you mind giving us a moment?"
Holly stared at the three adults before turning to her mother. The look on the young girl's face revealed both curiosity and worry, but this did not go unnoticed by Hermione or Harry. "Of course," Holly said, retreating from the room. As soon as she cleared the door, she stepped behind the fake plant in the entrance hall where she could hear every word of the conversation.
"You wanted to talk to me?" Mrs. Miller asked in surprise.
"Yes," Hermione replied. "Professor Potter has told me that you knew Ginny Weasley."
Mrs. Miller set down the teapot that was still in her hand and took a seat in the vacant chair that Holly had been occupying minutes before. "I did," she answered uneasily. "She died several years ago."
Hermione paused for a moment. "Ginny was my sister-in-law as well as my best friend. Could you tell me something about her?"
Mrs. Miller waited a moment before consenting the request with a nod.
"Could you tell me how she died? What happened?"
"It was a car accident," Mrs. Miller answered. "I did not hear about it until a little later. It happened at Christmas."
"How did you hear about it?" Harry asked, his full attention now on the blonde-haired woman.
"How else do you hear about these things?" Mrs. Miller said. "Alex's mother informed me. I was good friends with both Ginny and Alex."
"Do you…know why Ginny's family wasn't informed?" Harry asked again.
Mrs. Miller looked down at her cup. She pondered for a moment how much she should say; how much to reveal. "I don't know," she finally said.
"We lost contact with Ginny a couple months before the accident," Hermione said. "Do you know why?"
There was a short pause before Mrs. Miller was finally responded. "She was pregnant and she was scared," she said slowly.
The sudden silence told Holly everything. She could see the surprise on Hermione's face, the shocked look on Harry's. Her mother was sitting there, staring at her tea, unable to say much more. Yet, Holly felt unusually proud of her mother. Despite the ball full of lies, for once, her mother was telling the truth.
"Pregnant," Hermione whispered. "Did the baby-?"
"Die?" Mrs. Miller filled in when Hermione couldn't finish.
Hermione nodded.
"No," she answered. "She's very much alive."
Hermione's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in surprise. "Where is she?" she asked eagerly.
Ginny Weasley looked at Harry, her chocolate eyes full of honesty. "She should be at Hogwarts now," Ginny said.
"What's her name?"
"That, I can't tell you," Ginny said, standing up and moving to the sink.
"Why not?" Hermione inquired.
Ginny sighed. "Because…I don't know."
Hermione and Harry both stared at each other, no words able to describe what had just happened. Behind the door, Holly understood the full meaning of her mother's words and knew what she had meant. She didn't mean she didn't know the girl's name; it was a confession that she did not know why she couldn't tell. It was the truth.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Miller," Hermione said. "We should keep in touch."
Ginny nodded and the three headed for the fireplace. "Holly!" Ginny called for her daughter. The little girl, who had hiding behind the plant a few minutes earlier, now appeared from her bedroom.
"Are we ready to go?" Holly asked.
"Yes, I think we have everything we need to know," Professor Potter told her. "Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Miller. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon in a more favorable circumstance."
Ginny nodded. She gave her daughter a hug and kissed the top of her red hair. "Good luck, pumpkin," she told her.
"Thanks, Mum," Holly whispered.
Ginny watched as her daughter disappeared into the fire place with the two adults following quickly behind her.
On the other side of the network, Hermione, Harry, and Holly popped out one by one into Harry's office.
"I will never get used to this," Holly said, brushing her robes off. "Thank you for picking me up, Professor."
"My pleasure," Professor Potter answered. "Your classmates are at lunch in the Great Hall if you wish to join them."
Holly nodded and left the room, heading for the Great Hall. With her disappearance left Hermione and Harry alone to discuss what they had just learned in private.
"So, Ginny had a little girl," Harry said dryly.
"Do you have any idea who it is?" Hermione asked, looking at her best friend.
"Nope."
"No little red-headed first years running around?"
"None except Daniel and Holly," he informed her.
"Really?" Hermione asked, her face becoming suddenly curious. "Only Holly?"
"Well, Holly used to be blonde," Harry added.
"And her hair was turned mysteriously red?" Hermione questioned.
Harry waved off the idea. "Hermione, it was one of George's pranks. Don't think too much into it."
Hermione took a step back from Harry. "Why aren't you as excited as I am about finding Ginny's daughter?" Hermione demanded to know.
Harry shrugged as he sat down behind his desk. "How can I be excited about Ginny having a child with another man?"
"But don't you want to know who she is?"
Harry shook his head. "You can figure it out. To me, she's just another student."
Hermione pursed her lips. "Fine, then." She turned to the fireplace and threw in some powder.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked.
"I have some work to do," Hermione said. "One of those kids is my niece and Merlin only knows that I am going to find out which one!" Hermione stepped into the fireplace and disappeared with a swoosh, hardly realizing that what she was about to discover was more than she had anticipated.