Ginny made her way down to the kitchen, despite the fact that all she wanted to do was lie down. She knew that the dingy room where her bed was would only intensify her anxiety, however, and that didn't sound enticing at all. Her restless thoughts were a sure indicator that sleep wasn't an option either. Instead, she intended to help her mother prepare the evening meal, as it was now almost dinner time, and she knew her mother would appreciate the gesture.
Aside from being scolded for her attire this morning, which she truly didn't feel was that inappropriate, she hadn't really spoken to either of her parents since yesterday. Even though she was upset about what they had done, she was able to see how they had come to the decision. That didn't mean she was quite ready to talk it out and forgive them entirely, but her mother would understand the gesture for what it was.
Better yet, it would give her some time to think in relative peace.
She felt like she had spent the last twelve hours with Harry. It was a rather accurate assessment actually - aside from her shower earlier and a few moments here or there, he had been by her side since very early this morning. She even had to practically force him to go shower himself just now.
He had been so reluctant. If it had been anyone else she was trying to convince, she would have threatened to hex them. With Harry, however, she was always careful not to do that in any way that could be considered legitimate. She knew his relatives were horrid people and she suspected he had been abused - how much she couldn't say, but he always returned to them from the Dursley's looking far too thin and downtrodden for her liking. She had teased him instead, saying he couldn't hang around her any longer until he took care of the smell. It wasn't true, but he had laughed slightly and finally caved.
It wasn't that she minded, per se. It was more the fact that it was just plain odd. He had never spent so much time in her direct company. They had orbited around each other as part of the same crowd for years, but he had seemed intent on being with her today more than anything.
She had kept her feelings hidden, but for a brief time had become irritated. Once they had completed all their major discussion topics and tasks, she had expected him to run off as he had usually done. After all, she had made it very clear last night that she did not want their current situation to change things. But then he didn't.
It bothered her because she couldn't imagine a situation in which Harry followed her around like he had been that wasn't due to the betrothal. She quickly smothered the feeling, though, as she realized he didn't appear to be trying. He wasn't making any extra efforts to talk to her or get her to join him with Ron and Hermione. He was just simply tagging along.
The more she considered it, the more it made sense. She clearly didn't want to talk about the implications of the betrothal on a personal level and neither did he. She figured he expected that the others probably did.
Hell, Hermione had already tried and nearly set him off. She was grateful she had been able to intervene there. Harry really didn't need to be at odds with their friends right now, and Ginny knew Hermione meant well, really. She knew the older girl just didn't realize that the incessant manner in which she asked questions was perceived as pestering to most people, even though it was really just Hermione's way of trying to understand so that she could effectively be supportive. Despite Ginny's understanding of this, she still made sure to pass by the library stealthily, not wanting to draw Hermione's attention to herself now that she was alone.
Further thought convinced her that it had probably been a relief to be in her company considering she was avoiding everyone else as much as he was. They were discussing practicalities and the prophecy, for the most part, instead of feelings. The realization soothed her irritation and she allowed him to join in without question.
Sometimes his behavior was a bit off, like when they had talked with Neville. She had never seen that look on Harry's face before - he almost looked jealous. He had never been the type to begrudge others their good fortune as far as she knew, but the best she could figure it was because the prophecy could have been about Neville had Tom chosen differently.
She didn't judge him for it. Being in Grimmauld Place still set her on edge as well, and that was without having the added pressure of a prophecy either. Merlin knew it took her a lot of effort to ignore her surroundings and keep her thoughts focused - something quite telling considering Ginny was quite adept at lying, even to herself. It was one of the reasons she kept them so busy today.
If she just kept focusing on a single task at a time and methodically working through everything, she could force herself not to think about how much everything still hurt. As long as her thoughts didn't stray to anything not on the list and she didn't run out of tasks, she would be fine. Everything would be just fine, she repeated firmly in her mind.
Even now, as she trudged down the steps toward the kitchen, she was running through everything she had learned from Neville. He had mentioned there was an unofficial hierarchy in the Wizengamot. The members with the highest standing would cast their votes first and, based on family alliances, lower level members were expected to vote in the same manner.
She added studying the old family alliances to her list as she tried very hard to keep her eyes focused on the steps. It prevented her from falling, but also ensured that only in the very edges of her periphery could she see the mounted heads of prior Black family house-elves.
She couldn't deny the fact that she knew they were there, however, which brought up thoughts of Kreacher. She hadn't seen the batty old elf since the incident when they had arrived. Harry had told her what Dumbledore had said about him though, how Sirius had paved the way for his own destruction by being cruel and Bellatrix and Narcissa had played into the creature's dislike for his master. She knew in her heart that Dumbledore had the right of it. As nasty and unpleasant as Kreacher had been to Sirius, he simply didn't know better. He was a product of the Black family; even if it had occurred to him to do so, he hadn't had the freedom to choose another path and escape the way Sirius had.
At the bottom of the stairway, she paused to close her eyes and take a breath. It hurt to admit those things, and also made her feel guilty, but that didn't make it any less true. She had yelled at Kreacher yesterday and he had listened, which made sense now, but it also made her feel uncomfortable to think that she could be heading down the path to the same adversarial relationship Sirius had shared with the elf. As much as she loathed him and he loathed her, she still felt all sentient beings deserved to be treated with some level of respect.
Sighing in resignation, she decided her mother could wait and called quietly, "Kreacher."
The aged, miserable elf appeared before her in the front hall with a crack immediately, staring at her with revulsion and disdain. Ginny did her best to swallow her own negative feelings back and kept a calm mask in place. He grudgingly bowed before her, though she noted he had done it as shallowly as he could with it still being considered a bow. He then straightened, staring at her while waiting for some type of command. He still didn't speak. It took a moment for her to remember that she had told him not to when she had scolded him yesterday.
Feeling guilty, but also reluctant, she forced herself to say, "I'm sorry for what I said to you, Kreacher." His lined face showed reluctant surprise for a brief moment, before reverting to its usual unpleasant expressions. "I still believe you did something wrong, as Sirius was your master even if you had other Blacks giving you orders, but I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. Sirius was never kind to you, and I understand why you wouldn't want to listen to him." The elf appeared to be fighting himself, and she realized she still hadn't lifted the order for silence. Perhaps that's for the best until I've had a chance to finish speaking, she thought. She remembered what he had said yesterday. "You may not like me, and your old Mistress may have loathed me, but you will obey me and only me as your Mistress," she said sternly, leaving no room for tricks. "You will be helpful and polite. You will not do anything to cause disruptions, knowingly interfere with any business, or give up secrets about anyone who steps foot in this house, the Order of the Phoenix, or the war. You also will not leave this house unless I tell you to and you will only go where I say. These are direct orders, is that clear?" She finished with a stern look, hoping that covered everything. She waited for his nod.
When he gave it, expression full of hatred, she said, "You may speak, now."
His face was still twisted with revulsion, displeasure etched in the lines of his ancient face, but there was curiosity as well. "Blood-traitor Mistress speaks to Kreacher calmly now. She apologizes. Kreacher still does not like her - no he does not - but he must be obeying new Mistress. Poor old Mistress, what would she say?" He shot a longing look at the curtained portrait of Walburga on the wall across the entryway to the drawing room. He reached out to touch it before pulling back. The look he gave Ginny was full of loathing as he spoke in an aggrieved tone. "But Kreacher cannot know, because he cannot talk to old Mistress anymore, can he? She upsets the blood-traitor, half-blood, filth that new Mistress and old Master allow to infest the house, and Kreacher is not allowed to cause disruptions."
She felt a bit bad for the poor thing. It had been just Kreacher and that horrid portrait for years. It really wasn't surprising that he was a bit mad after that. The Blacks weren't exactly known for being kind either, and she doubted the company he had before the woman died was much better.
She bit her lip in consideration before offering with as much kindness as she could muster, "If you can get Mrs. Black off the wall, you may keep her in your quarters and speak to her there, so long as you remember that you are not to take orders from her."
The elf's droopy eyes widened as he looked at her briefly, before he turned with purpose toward the portrait. His posture radiating determination, he went to work waving his hands and muttering too low for Ginny to hear. Shocked, she watched in strange fascination. While didn't have much experience with house elves, she had never seen one need to do anything like this before in order to accomplish something.
The portrait seemed to sense what was happening and began to yell shrilly, but Kreacher snapped his fingers and the noise cut off immediately. In less than a minute of continuous work, the portrait separated from the wall with a slight tearing sound and disappeared from view with another snap of his fingers.
Ginny just stared in slack-jawed astonishment at the now clear spot on the wall, looking only slightly worse for wear due to a few tears in the wallpaper. She was only trying to bridge some of the gap between them, not actually expecting him to do it. After a few attempts at speaking that resulted only in the silent opening and closing of her mouth, she managed to stutter, "Th-thank you, Kreacher. That was very helpful," she complemented, because it really was. Only half-lying, she continued, "I know how much she means to you, and I hope you will be able to spend more time with her now. You may do so now, if you wish."
Kreacher bowed much lower than before, his long nose practically brushing the floor, before croaking out, "Yes, Mistress Ginevra." He disappeared with another crack before she could blink.
Ginny shook her head in wonder at what had just transpired. Yesterday she had wanted to murder him and today she was making efforts to make him happy. Even more astonishing, it had actually worked. He had used her name. That had certainly never happened before.
"That was very well done, Firefly."
"Bill!" She exclaimed, whirling around and leaping at her brother.
He laughingly caught her, like she had known he would, and spun her around. He always did that, and the familiar gesture was incredibly comforting given all the surprises she had faced in the last day.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said fervently.
"Well it seems there have been big things happening around here. Don't want to be out of the loop, now do I?" His tone was light and humorous, but his eyes were searching hers. He knew she wouldn't have written him and begged him to come quickly if it weren't important.
She was searching his expression as well. Clearly, he knew more than she had told him.
"You didn't ask about Kreacher," she said with a vague gesture to where the elf had just been. "You must know, then, about Sirius Black's will?"
He nodded, looking at her curiously, before saying vaguely, "Probably more than you." Her brow furrowed and he sighed. "There are some things we need to talk about in regards to that. It's actually why the goblins let me leave work so early, so that I could talk to you."
Even more confused than before - the goblins were not known for that sort of leniency - she slowly replied, "Okay… let's go to the study then. Come on." Abandoning her plan to aid her mother, she led the way up to the third floor. Honestly, it was beginning to feel like she would forever be conducting business in this room.
They each paused after getting situated, unsure of how much the other knew.
Bill started first. "I understand Sirius made you his heir."
She nodded. "That's what the will says, and Kreacher is listening to me, as you saw."
"I did." He said before pausing. Tentatively, he asked, "Do you fully understand what that means?"
The way he asked, the set of his jaw, and the crease between his brows all told her that she really didn't know as much as she thought and that she would not like what he clearly had to tell her.
"As far as I know," she said pointedly, the anxiety making her snappish, "it means I inherit everything. Not just the material things, but also the Black seat on the Wizengamot."
He tilted his head. "There's a bit more to it than that. Or, there could be. The choice is up to you really."
She didn't fail to notice the neutral way he said it. Exasperated, she said, "Just explain, Bill. After everything… I just don't have the energy to play games right now." Bill was one of the few people she was willing to admit weakness to. Definitely the only person in the house.
He sighed. "As of right now, you have inherited everything Sirius personally owned. That includes the house, his vault, and any other possessions circulating that belonged directly to him. You must have done something to indicate your agreement to this, because that's already been confirmed by the goblins. However, he also made you his heir, which requires a formal acceptance in the presence of the goblins in which you take over as head of the Black house. It would entitle you to all the Black family owns, including the Wizengamot seat."
Ginny turned it over, not quite understanding. "Shouldn't all of that belonged to Sirius already and passed to me? Why wouldn't that happen automatically as well?"
Patiently, he explained, "There are ceremonial procedures that need to be followed when taking on the full mantle of the family. When Sirius went to Azkaban, his father was still head of house, so there had been no need for him to do those even if he hadn't been disowned. His father died while he was in prison, though, and he never managed to make it to Gringotts after he escaped and became a fugitive, so he was never able to formally accept the title."
"Alright," she said. "So, I just go perform the ceremony and then everything is settled, right?" Somehow, she knew this wasn't an accurate assessment, but she hoped.
"Not quite," he said with a grimace. "There's a bit more to it than that… it's…" He sighed heavily, the weight of whatever he had to tell her obvious by his doleful expression. "I don't want to pressure you, but… The problem is, the greater Black family assets have been in limbo since Walburga died. While he was a fugitive, Sirius had never stood trial, so the Goblins weren't required to follow the regulations for convicts. As he was still alive and there had been no grounds to withhold his birthright, no one else could make any claim to it. But if you don't claim it now, anyone with a claim to the family name can petition for the right to inherit it all. In all likelihood, the-"
"I get it,"she snapped, irritated by his long-winded explanation that had given her no real answers. "The Malfoys or the Lestranges would seize it. Get to the point, Bill! It's obvious that it's best if I accept, so tell me why I wouldn't."
Grimly, he finally answered. "To take over as head of the Black house, you'd have to become a Black, Ginny, in terms of magic and everything else."
Ginny's stomach dropped. She knew why he had been so hesitant now. Her mother had explained it to her when she gave her "the talk", their discussion on how pregnancy affected a witch's magic leading into how family magic worked through the bloodlines and the ties that bound them together. Little Ginny had been aghast at the thought, insisting she would never marry then, because she would never want to not be a part of the family. Her mother had patiently explained that marriage bonds added onto a witch's magic, not breaking it, since it was creating something new and stronger through love. But this… choosing to become a Black would mean forsaking the Weasley name and breaking her magical connection to them.
She wouldn't be a Weasley anymore, not by name or by magic.
The world tilted as it hit her. It had been her worst fear when she had woken up in the Chamber, that her family wouldn't forgive her and they would disown her. It was wrong and made her feel like a terrible person upon reflection - shouldn't she have feared Tom or the Basilisk? Harry had assured her he had defeated them both though. Even more importantly, shouldn't she have feared that those hurt by her actions wouldn't recover and the hurt she would have caused to everyone who loved them if that were the case? As time passed and she gained perspective, these fears had become greater, but she had been scared and selfish at eleven.
There had always been a part of her that feared she wasn't enough to belong. She was the youngest and only girl, often pushed aside or treated differently. If you had been good enough, less weak perhaps, they wouldn't have left you behind. They would have actually noticed when you began to fade away. The insidious voice that taunted her with these thoughts had been latched upon and echoed by Tom, until he had forced her to do enough terrible things that she knew they were both correct.
Briefly, as Harry walked her out of the Chamber, she thought that perhaps she should have just died there. It would have been well-deserved for all that she had done, she thought, and she wouldn't have to face losing the love of her family. While the Weasley's had always been poor, the one thing they had in spades was love. Before Hogwarts, that had been all she ever wanted or needed. At that time, however, she hadn't felt loved by her brothers in months and just knew she would never again be looked upon by her parents with the fiercely protective, unending devotion that she had last seen as she boarded the Hogwarts Express.
Harry had tried to tell her it would be alright, but she hadn't believed him until Ron had cried out in relief at the sight of her. Then they had gone to Dumbledore's office where her mother had swept her up into a hug that hurt it was so tight, but had been the first time in months that she had felt the slightest hint of warmth. Both her parents had cried tears of relief. Her recovery began, hard as it was on everyone, but they all supported her. They even spent money they didn't really have to take her to Egypt to see Bill.
Bill, who was now holding her up as she sat at a precarious angle on a chair.
"Ginny? Ginevra!" He gave her a shake.
"Don't call me that," she replied mechanically.
He forced a chuckle, looking only mildly relieved. "You alright? You kind of zoned out and you're looking a bit peaky."
She nodded meekly. He had broken her out of the memories she had been trapped in, but the emotions they evoked still lingered.
He hadn't been convinced. "Maybe we should get you some tea?" Bill suggested, concern heavy in his features. He looked at her more closely, "You look worse than I thought. Have you been using those potions again?" She wanted to ask how he knew about that, but he continued, "When was the last time you ate?"
Not wanting to get into how terrible things actually were lately or admit that she indeed had been using the mild glamour potions Fred and George made for her all those years ago, she simply said, "Some tea sounds good right now, actually. Let's go."
As they exited, he said from behind her, "Look, it may not even matter. You're a minor, so Mum and Dad would have to approve first. Knowing Mum, she'd never allow it. There's no need to worry, okay?"
Ginny let out a choking sound as a chill ran through her. It was all she could manage. Bill has no idea, she thought. This is all on me.
Bill was right. Her mother would be against this and would be livid at the thought. Her father would be heartbroken. Her brothers may even feel betrayed and believe she was just being ambitious like Percy. After all this time, would Tom finally succeed in forcing her to do something to completely isolate her from her family?
Out of nowhere, she heard Harry's voice say, "Ginny?" and felt his hands on her shoulders. She was staring into his green eyes, their vivid color slightly obscured by his wiry glasses, and she felt she was truly eleven again, waking up in the Chamber. It had been over three years since Tom had tried and failed, but now she was preparing to potentially do the job for him to stop his take-over of the Wizarding world. It was so much worse now, because it would be her own choice.
Except, did she really have a choice? She already knew she would have to do this. The Malfoys and Lestranges would win if they petitioned for the right to the Black title. Aside from the fortune they would no doubt spend promoting Tom's twisted agenda, they would also gain the Wizengamot seat that would allow them to control other votes. Between the power of the three families, they would control the entire governing body. She knew they couldn't be allowed to have all that power.
She just didn't know exactly how much stopping it would cost her.
"Gin," she heard again, "are you alright?" Harry said it softly, reinforcing the memory she was trying to pull out of. Then much harsher, "What happened?"
Bill responded evasively. "We were just talking about some… complicated decisions."
"What did you say to her?" Harry questioned her brother accusingly, his strong hands tightening roughly on her shoulders. Perversely, the physical discomfort toned down her upset; Harry had never before been rough with her, especially not in the Chamber, and it helped to differentiate the memory from reality. It probably didn't help that the hallways in Grimmauld Place were about as dark as the Chamber had been.
"I - ," Bill started defensively. She didn't let him finish.
"Harry. It's alright," she said, fully coming back to the present. They were all still standing in the hall outside the study, the boys in an odd defensive configuration around her. "It's not… it's not Bill's fault. I just- I realized I don't have a choice. I- I want to stay a Weasley, but I just don't have a choice," she voiced in frustration. "I have to-"
Bill interrupted, "Ginny, I didn't-".
"You were talking about marriage?!" Harry's outburst surprised Bill into silence. He looked at Harry in confusion and the younger boy paled, minus the slight blush on his cheeks. "I didn't realize you'd been thinking about that." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We don't- I wouldn't… I would never pressure you, Gin. You can stay a Weasley. We don't have to ever get married if you don't want to. Or we could get married and you could keep your name. Do Wizards do that? I know that muggles can, but that's not important right now. You know it will always be your choice, I prom-"
Bill cut off his rambling by stepping closer to her and placing his hand on her arm. Why did they both insist on touching her? "We weren't talking about marriage, Harry. Why would you two get married anyway? Is there something I need to know?"
Harry had taken a step back and dropped his hands when Bill stepped forward, cheeks bright red and slightly winded from the rush of words he had so quickly delivered, looking completely perplexed. Despite everything, Ginny found the expression comical.
Suddenly, the absurdity broke through her panic and she laughed. Sure, it was hysterical laughter, the kind that hinted at madness, but it broke the tension effectively.
"Thank you, Harry," she said with a relieved sigh as she composed herself. She gave his arm a grateful squeeze.
"You're welcome?" He was still looking massively uncomfortable, as well as confused, and shifting around while shooting uneasy looks at Bill.
Turning to her brother, she said, "If you knew the circumstances, you'd understand. There are several things I wanted to talk to you about, not just the inheritance." Reality was setting in once again; she could feel its weight settling on her. Just focus on one task at a time, she thought as she envisioned her mental checklist. Deciding the training took priority, she gestured to Harry. "You should be part of this discussion too."
He looked apprehensive but acquiesced when she gave him a meaningful look.
They trooped back into the study silently. Again, she thought with an eye roll.
"What were you talking about with a name change, if it wasn't marriage?" Harry asked cautiously.
Ginny sighed, not wanting to talk about it. She knew, however, that they were about to discuss something Harry was just as, if not more, reticent to talk about, and she understood that maybe he needed this. He was always so selfless when it came to everyone else - hadn't he immediately offered to do whatever she wanted, including giving up his only chance at making a family of his own, when he assumed she was upset at the thought of marrying him? - that she figured she could do this for him.
"The gist of it is that while I inherited everything Sirius had taken ownership of, the greater family assets of the Blacks need to be claimed by me at Gringotts if I want to seize them, like the Black family vaults and the Wizengamot seat. If I don't, then the Malfoys or Lestranges may try to do so," Harry's face twisted with hatred and she nodded in understanding. "I don't want that to happen either. Actually, I have no intention of letting that happen," she clarified, letting Harry's clear detestation of the idea and his relief at her pronouncement fill her with conviction. "The problem is that I have to become a Black in order to do so."
Harry's face was a mask of confusion, "It's just a name change, isn't it? You'll still be a Weasley. Your family would never abandon you over your name, Gin."
His reassurance warmed her, the uncertainties that had been preying on the weakest parts of her losing some of their hold. She gave him a grateful smile.
It was clear he didn't understand the full consequences for her of becoming a Black, but she couldn't blame him for that. He had grown up with muggles, awful muggles who wouldn't have explained how family magic worked even if they knew.
Bill spoke up, "It's a bit more complicated than that. Bloodlines actually do matter in the wizarding world." She noticed as Harry's eyes went wide with surprise before narrowing at Bill. She elbowed her brother. "Ow- damnit, Ginny. What the hell?"
She ignored him, focusing on Harry. "He didn't mean it like that. Not the way the pure-blood supremacists spout."
"Oh," Bill let out in surprise, turning to Harry quickly. "No, of course not. They've gone and twisted it all around to fit their agenda. Bloodlines don't make someone better or superior to anyone else. It's more that families are connected through family magic passed on by blood. Ginny has enough of the Black family blood that she can claim the title and receive the full Black family magic through Mum's side, but she has to give up the family magic she got from Dad, that of the Weasley's."
Harry was no longer looking at Bill with suspicion, but he still posed his question to her. "I still don't quite understand what that means. What is the difference in family magic?"
"It's the source of our magic. Some of it comes from our mothers and some from our fathers. Different families have different magical strengths or gifts. For instance, the Blacks have a large capacity for magical regeneration."
"Magical regeneration?" He asked skeptically, one eyebrow raised.
"Yes. The ability to overcome damage to one's magic. It's probably largely what helped Sirius maintain his magic after so long spent in the presence of the Dementors. He always claimed it was knowing he was innocent, but that really just kept him sane. His magic was spared by the Black family gift. Mum has it too, it's how she was able to have so many children without losing any of her magical strength," Ginny explained. She didn't mention that it was also what allowed her to heal after Tom had taken so much from her in her first year.
Poor Harry looked only more confused. Bill shot him a look of understanding that Ginny herself certainly didn't understand. "I was confused the first time Dad mentioned it too. They don't get too much into what pregnancy is like for witches in school, but apparently the baby pulls magic from the mother. It's why so few magical families have more than one or two children. Surely you've noticed how odd a family of our size is in the wizarding world?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "Even those purebloods who are willing to try, sometimes the mothers just don't have enough magical reserves. There's a theory that that's why the inbred purebloods have squibs, because there is too much shared magic between the parents to produce a new magical being."
Harry nodded, eyes glazed in intense thought, though his cheeks were slightly pink from discussing pregnancy. "I guess that makes sense. I just never thought about it... there are families of all different sizes in the muggle world, and they don't have anything like that to deal with." He paused, face scrunched in thought.
Inspiration lit Bill's eyes. "Think about it in terms of muggle genetics. Do you know anything about that?"
"A bit," Harry replied. Ginny had heard this theory before, so she nodded along too.
"Well, I once had a muggleborn girlfriend who had a theory about that," Bill smiled wistfully. She had been a good girl, but she wanted to start a family right away while Bill had wanted to travel. They split up amicably and she had married a wonderful man less than a year later, Ginny knew. "She mentioned once that genetics supported it. Think about it, you look just like your father with your mother's eyes. Those were inherited through your… what do they call genetic material? G- no, B, or was it D? There's some acronym for it."
"DNA?" Harry offered helpfully.
Bill snapped his fingers. "That was it, and you get half from each parent."
"Right, twenty-three chromosomes from each."
"That's still so weird," Bill said it in a distracted sort of wonderment. "Healers describe it very differently." He shook his head again, refocusing. "Anyway, so it's like that, except with magical traits and tendencies. Giving up the Weasley heritage means severing the magical line tying you to those traits. Whether or not each trait shows doesn't really matter, you're still carrying it and can pass it down, same as physical traits. For instance, even though you don't have red hair, the possibility could still be there in your DNA for your children because your mother did."
Ginny caught when Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. They both blushed. Much as they avoided the hippogriff in the room, the knowledge that they may end up married one day was still ever-present. She saw Bill had noticed and pleaded with her eyes, begging him not to ask right now.
Harry helped her divert Bill's attention. "So, you said our magic comes from the blending of family magic in our bloodline? But that doesn't make sense… what about muggleborns?"
"Ah," Bill said knowingly. "You're quick. Most people take a bit longer to get there. Most of what we just talked about is theory, though it's definitely true that certain gifts run in certain bloodlines. That theory based heredity of magical traits on genetics, but her theory on muggleborns was based on how magic itself exists and is passed along. She theorized that magic itself was just another type of energy and must be subject to the law of conservation of energy."
"Energy can neither be created nor destroyed," Harry said promptly.
"That's right. So given that, what happens when the last of a wizarding bloodline dies and there is no one willing or able to claim it?"
"It goes to a muggle child?" Harry asked, clearly intrigued. He thought for a moment, turning it over. "How is that decided? What directs the magic?"
It suddenly occurred to Ginny that most people didn't give Harry enough credit for his intellect. Certainly, everyone knew he was clever and capable of putting together clues, but no one ever seemed to recognize his desire to understand and his quick ability to do so.
Bill nodded enthusiastically. "That's the idea. While magic is tied to the soul, which moves on after death, it is not what solely makes it - magic is tied to our bodies as well. Look at what can be done through blood." Ginny avoided looking at Harry, the betrothal coming to mind, though she knew that he had other experience with such things. Voldemort's rebirth must have come to Bill's mind as well, because he hurried to continue. "She thought that the unsecured magic left behind latched onto muggle children who had the physical potential to handle it, in order to keep the magic going," Bill explained.
"That's really interesting," Harry said in wonder, clearly wrapped up in the thought. His mother had been a muggleborn, Ginny knew, and she wondered if his thoughts were revolved around why magic itself had chosen her.
Bill's belief in the theory shown through, though he tried to act nonchalant when he clarified, "It was just her theory, but she had research to back it up. For instance, certain gifts that belonged to families that have died out have been found again in lines that started with a muggleborn."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "How do you know so much about this? Not just the theories, but… all of it? I wouldn't think there would be much use for it in curse-breaking," he questioned.
Bill looked uncomfortable. "You'd be surprised," he said vaguely.
A memory came to mind and she understood Bill's reticence. Ginny thought that she and Harry were offering enough personal information, however, that Harry deserved transparency in return. She piped up, "Bill was approached by Mum's childless uncle about accepting the mantle of the Prewitt family, but he didn't want it."
Bill sent her a look of betrayal. "How do you even know about that? You were what, five then?"
"Seven, you prat."
"Really, you were seven then? Merlin, you were a small thing. Still are actually," he replied teasingly.
Ginny sent him a warning look. "Careful now, Bill. You didn't think I was too small to learn the Bat-Bogey Hex when you taught me that summer, and I've only gotten better since then."
"So I've heard," Bill replied, laughter in his voice. "From a rather surprising source."
"Oh?" She inquired.
"Fleur Delacour," Bill said with a smile.
"Really?" Harry asked in surprise. He looked between Ginny and Bill. "When did you talk to her? Is she working for Gringotts now?" He turned back toward her. "And how does she know what you can do? I've never even witnessed it."
Bill laughed. "The way I heard it-"
Ginny cut him off in a huff, crossing her arms in annoyance. "Oh, I'll bet Phlegm couldn't wait to tell you about the crazy little girl-"
Bill laughed at the nickname, but spoke over her before she could get too far into her rant, "Actually, Fleur admitted to speaking poorly of Harry and said that you overheard and threatened her." He grew serious, "She also admitted that she laughed at you and insinuated that 'a silly little girl' couldn't pose a threat to a Triwizard Champion." Ginny hated that phrase- she could always hear the echo of Tom's voice saying it. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Harry's wince and wondered if it he felt similarly. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but snapped it shut when Bill smirked and said, "That was until she had bats pouring out of her own nose." Harry chuckled.
Ginny still felt put out, though. "She deserved it," she insisted.
Bill nodded, growing serious. "She agrees with you actually. She said it was very humbling, and she hasn't forgotten that lesson." He gave her a very serious look. "Please remember that next time you see her. She'd like to apologize, and I would really appreciate it if you'd let her."
"Why would I see her again? And what does it matter to you?" Ginny interrogated, narrowing her eyes at her brother, before realization dawned. She groaned loudly. "No! You've got to be kidding me, Bill. Her?"
Bill rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Ginny. Just give her a chance."
Harry was silent beside her, seemingly in thought, with a slight grin on his face. It annoyed her even more.
Ginny was still scowling at her brother, but it softened the longer she looked when she saw how happy he was. Thinking back, it was the first time in nearly seven years that she had seen Bill not look sad at the mention of his ex-girlfriend, so Fleur must have been good for him. "Fine. I'll play nice with your snobby little girlfriend." That doesn't mean I have to like her, however, she added silently.
"Fiancee, actually. I asked her to marry me last night. I was going to tell everyone tonight, but…"
Harry quickly said, "Congratulations, Bill. That's great." Ginny didn't think it was all that sincere, just a knee-jerk reaction, but he didn't look like he was lying either. He caught her eye and gave her a look that indicated she should say something.
Ginny looked back at her brother and sighed in resignation. It really wasn't her business, so long as Bill was happy. She still felt some apprehension, the memory of how dismissive Fleur had been of both her and Harry fresh in her mind, but she knew that people could change. After a long moment, she nodded at her brother.
He smiled in return and said, "Thank you." He looked down at his watch. "Well, I've got to be going. I'm already late and soothing a pissed off part-Veela is not what I had in mind for tonight. Better not make it any worse."
Ginny's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious? I didn't get to discuss anything that I needed to! We really do need to talk to you, Bill. It's important."
There was a new urgency in him when he checked his watch again. "Look, I was supposed to bring Fleur here for the announcement - yes, she's been told the secret, she joined the Order last month - and if I don't show up, she will come here eventually. Do you want to deal with that tonight?"
Ginny hesitated, but finally shook her head. "No, I guess not. It's already been a very long day." She sighed and looked over at Harry. He didn't seem to want to force the issue at the moment either, but… the sooner he started training, the more prepared he would be when the time came. Who knew when that could happen? Did they have any time to waste?
He seemed to understand and gave her a reassuring smile. "It's fine, Gin. It'll hold for one night." He turned to Bill. "That is, if you can come back tomorrow? It probably shouldn't wait longer than that." He peeked at Ginny, looking for approval. It soothed her nerves to realize how in sync they had come to be in such a short time.
"Sounds good, Harry. I'll be back after work tomorrow." He offered his hand and then turned back to her. "Think about what we talked about for the night and then get back to me. We'll set something up with Gringotts." He gave her a loving hug and kissed her forehead as he pulled back. She smiled at him.
Her expression quickly morphed into a scowl when he ruffled her hair, messing it up something fierce, before making a quick escape.
"Damn it, Bill!" she called after him, her hands flying up to her head to assess the damage.
When she tried to run her fingers through her long hair to fix it, one of the charms from her bracelet got stuck. By feel, she could tell it wasn't the quaffle that Sirius had given her for Christmas or even the guitar, as one would expect. Instead, it was the flaming phoenix encased in glass, the one meant to represent her.
She struggled for a moment, not wanting to rip any of her hair out but also not wanting to damage the charm. If should just see what she was doing, it would be so much easier. To her surprise, Harry stepped forward and reached out, taking over and gently removing the tangled hairs one by one.
She stilled, waiting patiently while he worked. She quietly thanked him.
He hummed a response and finished quickly. His hands lingered though and he stroked the phoenix charm. Without looking up, he quietly asked, "What's the significance of the charm?"
She paused and guardedly looked him over, before deciding to be honest. "It was from Sirius, for my birthday last summer."
It had been the only gift she had received on her actual birthday last year - their mail was still being screened and had been arriving a day later than it should have all summer, and everyone else in residence was so worried about Harry's trial that they had forgotten until the following day when gifts arrived with the mail. Ginny hadn't been angry with any of them for it - Voldemort had just returned to power and everyone was in a tailspin it seemed - but it had meant so much to her that Sirius had not only remembered, but given her something so thoughtful.
She felt moisture gather in her eyes at the memory. She blinked them away quickly and plastered a mask on her face, though she knew her hands were shaking ever so slightly. Focus on the best part.
"He said I was like a phoenix... grown and burned, then risen from the ashes." Her lips twisted into a wistful smile, her voice laden with fondness. At least you have these things to remember him by. It could be much worse, she reminded herself. She realized Harry must have had very few small momentos like she had from Sirius, aside from whatever he left behind for him. This stirred an idea.
"Well, since Bill bailed, you're welcome to borrow this and head up to Sirius's room if you'd like." They had both locked their things back up this morning before heading out of the room, so she knew he hadn't had a chance to go through any more of it since last night; he had told her he hadn't gotten very far to begin with before falling asleep.
"You're not coming?" He asked, eyebrows raised.
She shook her head no. "I'm going to go down and help Mum with dinner. I know it'll be done very soon at this point and I won't be much help, but I'd still like to mend some fences after yesterday."
He looked disappointed. He probably felt the same apprehension she felt about going through her things, that mix of excitement and fear that almost paralyzed her. He didn't try to persuade her otherwise, however.
"I guess I'll do that," he said, sounding less than enthusiastic and reaching out.
It felt like a physical pain, removing the bracelet. It had been a comfort to her for so long that she felt naked and exposed without it. She wondered if she should have just removed the charm, but she was too afraid it would get lost - not that she didn't trust Harry with it. She was sure it was just as important to him that they be able to access that box.
Harry must have noticed, because he said, "You know what? You're right, there isn't much time before dinner. It's probably best if I wait." He wasn't looking at her and was rubbing the back of his neck. She wanted to roll her eyes at his tells or maybe warn him that she wasn't fragile, but all she felt was grateful at the moment.
Since he was trying to be subtle, she let him. She smiled and nodded. "You're probably right. We'll have time later."
He smiled a bit nervously, relief obvious in his face. He glanced at the door to the master bedroom. "I think I'll just visit with Buckbeak for a bit. I'm sure he'd like the company." He met her eyes again, a conflicting mix of light and nervousness in his eyes that Ginny didn't understand. "Save me a seat at dinner?"
She blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly and smiled brightly. "Sure, Harry. See you then."
He made no move to head to Buckbeak as she turned to go. She felt his eyes on her as she left.
It was still surprising how much he seemed to want to be around her. Their surprise meeting last night had started out so awkwardly, but they had quickly broken through it with just a little honesty on her part.
She had said much more than intended in her exhausted ramblings, however. Merlin, she had even told him she loved him. Of course, it was true, but in the platonic, familial sense - she had long since buried her old crush - but she knew he wasn't accustomed to hearing the phrase and had expected him to be much weirder about it. It was odd that he hadn't put as much distance as possible between them after that.
It's been a weird day, she thought, deciding not to worry about any of it. None of that was in her control right now. All she could do at the moment was focus on how to smooth things over with her mother without actually having to talk about it. She knew she had behaved poorly yesterday, but still felt somewhat justified. It would be a fine line to walk.
Her mother was already hard at work, and almost done by the looks of it, when Ginny arrived.
Still, Ginny smiled brightly and said, "Hi, Mum! Need some help?"
Her mother smiled weakly in return and accepted. Her distraction was obvious as she absently directed Ginny on what to do.
"Bill told me about what you discussed," she said without preamble. Ginny panicked for a moment, wondering how her mother was going to react. Helping with dinner was supposed to smooth some of the damage their relationship had taken, not create more hurt. She braced herself, only to be surprised when her mother's eyes were full of compassion as she laid a tender hand on her cheek. What? "We love you, Ginny dear. Your father and I knew it was a possibility as soon as we saw the will and we talked about it last night. We hope you know that you'll always be our daughter, no matter what name you wear."
Oh. Ginny felt her eyes tear up in response.
"You're sure?" she whispered.
Her mother nodded before pulling her hand back and turning away, busying herself with the food. "We think you should do it, actually. The Blacks are owed fealty by a number of families-"
"Dark families," Ginny interjected. She shivered, "I don't want any kind of connections with those families, Mum."
Her mother ignored her, back still turned. "Families who won't be able to do you any direct harm because of that fealty." She turned back around to look Ginny in the eye. The wetness had pooled over and left tracks down her cheeks. "The Dolohovs are one such family, did you know that?"
Ginny shook her head in the negative, fully understanding the mention. Her mother's twin brothers, Uncles Gideon and Fabian, had died in the first war, slain by Antonin Dolohov.
"I knew about the The Malfoys and Lestranges, though," she replied quietly, thinking of the ways those two families alone had hurt her. The decision Lucius Malfoy made to slip her that diary had served to shape her entire life for years and was the catalyst for what now shaped her future. Bellatrix's murder of Sirius had broken her heart and she was only beginning to see the repercussions of his death. Focusing, she sighed. "I know it's the right thing to do, it's just…" She shrugged helplessly.
Her mother hugged her tightly in response. "The right thing can be hard to do. This war will force all of us to do things we never thought we would." Ginny understood that her mother was thinking of her own decision to go ahead with the betrothal and gave her a quick squeeze of understanding. Her mother squeezed back once more, whispering in her ear, "You've always been strong, Ginny. No matter how difficult, we have faith that you can do this."
Her mother's unconditional love soothed her anxiety. For the greater good, she would become Ginevra Black, but she would always have the love of the Weasleys.