Gringotts loomed before them. All her life, the sight of the grand white building had inspired awe and desire within her, but today it simply felt cold and foreboding. Instead of calling to mind images of luxury, it reminded her more of a tomb. None-the-less, she and Harry made their way through Diagon Alley nestled under the invisibility cloak, following close behind in Bill's wake.
Snap out of it, she berated herself. It's not going to kill you. Staying alive is the whole point.
She didn't allow her steps to falter as they followed Bill into the bank. Not a single goblin or patron so much as blinked in their direction when they entered, but every time they passed too close to a goblin there was a distinctly displeased look cast in their direction. She didn't know if they knew Bill had been trying to recruit goblins to the Order or if they could sense she and Harry were hiding under the cloak, but it didn't really matter; both options made her feel uncomfortable.
Bill ignored the unhappy glances cast in their direction as he led them directly to Ragnok's. His apparent nonchalance did nothing to settle her nerves. Her suspicion that it was an act was confirmed as he knocked stiffly on the Ragnok's open office door. When she didn't hear a response, she peeked around her brother to see what was going on.
The room was both opulent and plain. It was constructed entirely of shining white marble, unadorned by photos or other decorations aside from three chairs, a large desk, and an expansive shelf that were clearly used for attending to business matters. They were all a matched set, made from a polished dark wood that Ginny couldn't name, but recognized must be rare and expensive.
At the desk sat the goblin she assumed to be Ragnok. He was hunched over a parchment, writing furiously, an unpleasant look on his face. Granted, Ginny's experience with goblins had shown that they almost always looked this way, but there was a particularly vicious glint in his eye as he marked the parchment with clearly frustrated movements. With one last harsh poke of the quill - Ginny was surprised he hadn't put a hole in the parchment with it - Ragnok finished and place it into a tray on the desk, magically disappearing in the process. Finally, he looked up at Bill with piercing eyes.
"Mr. Weasley," he said in a dead, grating tone. "Come in."
Bill entered and they followed cautiously behind. He waited a bit longer than necessary before closing the door and stepping forward.
"Ragnok," Bill said, offering a respectful bow of his head, "We got word that another meeting has been scheduled by the Ministry on behalf of Narcissa Malfoy and thought it may be best to try to move the appointment we discussed forward, if you would find that acceptable."
Ragnok eyed him appraisingly. Harry nudged Ginny's side and she realized that his view had been obstructed by Bill. They both shifted around her brother. The movement brought them closer to the desk and Ragnok's gaze locked onto their position. She was now certain that the goblins were able to sense them under the cloak when they moved too close. He didn't look at them in disapproval, however. Instead, a twisted smile pulled up the corners of his mouth, causing his expression to become somewhat frightening and malicious in its appearance.
"Ah. I see you have completed your task in fetching Mr. Potter. Very well, we shall attend to our business now." The smile fell as he looked back at Bill, his expression turning to displeasure, as he directed, "Your business is done here, Mr. Weasley. You are dismissed."
Bill looked slightly unhappy, but made no move to protest. "Thank you, sir," he said respectfully, before he bowed again. He turned to leave, but not before casting one last concerned look about the room in the general direction they were standing, without landing on anything specific. It was then that Ginny stepped out from under the cloak, Harry following quickly behind her. She did her best to smile in reassurance. Bill nodded, looking only slightly less troubled, and left.
Turning back to Ragnok, Ginny swallowed heavily. He was looking at her appraisingly and Ginny couldn't help but feel that he was finding her lacking. She had never dealt much with goblins directly - the most she had done was stand silently beside her mother and watch quick transactions occur - and she certainly didn't know how to behave with one of such status. Deciding there was nothing she could do to compensate for that now, she tried to emulate some mixture of Bill and the lessons on being a "proper witch" Auntie Muriel had tried to impress upon her throughout her childhood.
She bowed her head as Bill had done, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Harry was following her lead. Despite how awkward she had felt putting on the set of fancy dress robes Fleur had gotten her, she was suddenly grateful that both she and Harry were at least wearing formal attire for the meeting. It lessened some of the awkwardness, making the formality she injected into her tone and posture feel more appropriate. Channeling a sense of decorum generated by her surroundings, she said, "Thank you for meeting with us ahead of schedule, Director Ragnok, sir," she shifted awkwardly and cleared her throat. "We appreciate you making time for us despite the inconvenience."
Ragnok pursed his lips, still staring a hole through her. His gaze only flicked to Harry for a moment before returning to her. She refused to give in to her urge to fidget, not wanting to betray just how much like a fraud she felt at that moment.
His tone held thinly veiled contempt as he replied, "Under normal circumstances I would not entertain such nonsense. However, the Goblin Nation honors their commitments and respects the agreements we make with our wizarding clients, even if the same cannot be said of some members of your Ministry."
"We're not particularly pleased with the Ministry either," Harry added, bitterness tinging his own tone.
Ginny worried for a moment about how Ragnok would receive that comment, but he simply smiled that twisted smile once again. He sounded almost amused as he replied, "No. I do not suppose you would be, Mr. Potter. Please, have a seat. We have much to tend to."
Ginny took a seat in one of the chairs before the desk, sighing in relief. I guess there's something to be said for mutual dislike, she thought. She kept silent though, sitting straight-backed and crossing her ankles, just as she had been taught. Harry sat beside her, his erect posture mirroring hers.
Ragnok placed a hand on another empty tray and stated clearly, "Sirius Black." A file immediately materialized beneath his hand, pulled magically from its usual filling space. He didn't address or even look at them as he shuffled through various pieces of parchment, and they didn't dare interrupt him. After a tense minute, he found what he was looking for, closed the file, and met their questioning eyes.
"Miss. Weasley, Mr. Potter," he began formally. Ginny would have straightened out simply at the sound of his formal tone, but her back couldn't get any straighter at this point. "As I have stated, under normal circumstances we would not have indulged expediting this event. However, Gringotts makes every effort to honor the commitments we make to our clients, particularly those coming from families that have centuries-long history with the bank." He paused and let out a disgruntled sound, "Sometimes we must bend to the will of interference by the Wizarding Ministry per various treaty agreements made over the years, but as you are here, I am assuming you are willing to agree to the conditions that have been set forth and we shall be able to circumvent this. Am I correct to assume this, Miss Weasley?"
She met his gaze and said in as strong a voice as she could muster, "Yes, sir. If the will provided to the bank is the same as what was left to us, then you are correct."
Ragnok nodded in approval and her tension lessened minutely. "We shall begin with a reading of the will in a few moments. The will provided to the institution was verified thrice. It was delivered by the Black family house elf named Kreacher, already known to the goblins here through generations of servitude, contained the Black family seal, and was signed in the blood of one Sirius Black."
Ginny winced internally. Why must it always be blood? Beside her, she saw Harry's fist tighten, the words that Umbridge had forced him to engrave on his own skin white against the pink flesh and she unthinkingly reached out. Her fingers gently trailed a circle around the scars and his fist loosened enough that she was able to slip her hand into his. He accepted her gesture of comfort, readily gripping her hand in return and not letting go.
Ragnok made no comment on or acknowledgement of their exchange. He continued, "Even with such verification, we would be under no obligation to see to the wishes of a criminal Azkaban escapee, were it not for the fact that Sirius Black was never formally convicted in accordance with Wizarding law, and therefore the treaties regarding the handling of accounts and inheritances of those sentenced to life in prison do not apply to him." He looked down and began sorting the paperwork before him into three piles. "I mention this now, because it is through these laws that some of the inheritance you are set to receive has been acquired, but that will be discussed in further detail when we review the contents of the Black family inheritance. I cannot provide you with any more detail than that until the proceedings have finished and you have formally accepted the position of Head Black. If there are no questions, let us get to the reading and discuss the details later," he finished, offering each of them a short stack of parchment.
Ginny took the extended document and recognized it as a copy of the will. She couldn't help feeling grateful that she and Harry only had duplicates. The thought of holding Sirius's blood in her hands made her stomach roll, and she was certain the feeling would have been worse for Harry. He didn't let go of her as he took his copy for Ragnok. They looked at each other, both agreeing with a nod that they were ready.
Harry's hand around hers tightened in reassurance. Taking a deep breath first, she looked to Ragnok and declared, "We're ready."
Ginny and Harry listened patiently as Ragnok read from the will, outlining how Ginny was set to receive everything Sirius personally owned without condition. Despite her earlier bravado when discussing their agenda, her nerves rose the longer the goblin read. She managed to only visibly flinch once, when Ragnok first mentioned that conditions of becoming the Head of House Black.
"The aforementioned inheritance also includes status as the Black heir, including all rights and responsibilities of the Head of the House of Black and is predicated on Miss Weasley's willingness to relinquish her born familiar magical ties and accept the Black magical line as her own," he read emotionlessly. It crossed her mind that he could have simply been commenting on the weather, as if it didn't mean having something deeply personal and intrinsic rooted out of her by force and augmented by something completely foreign.
She was determined to stand fast to her course, but couldn't pretend that she didn't hate it. There are worse things that could happen to you, she reminded herself, bolstering her courage. Her tension lingered, however.
Harry's grip on her hand loosened. A small part of her wanted to grip him tighter and beg him not to let go. As much as it pained her to admit it - as much as she hated herself for being so weak - she didn't think she could do this without him supporting her. Her fears were unfounded, however, and the panic faded as he threaded their fingers together and tightened his grip.
It still amazed her to have him so comfortable with her. A small part of her thought there was always a chance that he was like this with everyone he was closest to when they were in private. We've never been that close, it said logically. But she had been close enough, and had seen how he flinched at even casual contact when it was unexpected, and the larger part of her insisted it wasn't normal. Now wasn't the time to consider, however, and she squeezed his hand in gratitude.
"... all of which is to be held in joint ownership with Harry James Potter, as is allowed under the the Goblin Laws, which allow for magically bonded couples to be considered one legal entity by Gringotts Bank."
Ginny and Harry remained stoic, listening to Ragnok continue with their hands clasped, since Bill had already explained this earlier today. He had not told him what came next and they both jerked in shock.
"If Miss Weasley is unwilling or unable to agree to these terms, then Mr. Potter is next in line, as per his eligibility in accordance with his bonded status to Miss Weasley, under the same conditions-"
Harry's hand tightened painfully around hers before straightening up and leaning toward Ragnok, resolution shining out of him. He didn't spare her a glance, looking directly at Rangnok and cutting him off as he said firmly, "I'll do it."
Ginny yanked him back by the hand and glared. "You don't get to make that call, Harry. The decision is mine, not yours," she said forcefully.
"But you don't have to do this! I can-" Harry eyes were wild, desperate, but she still cut him off, unwilling to even humor him. There were so many facets that he clearly hadn't given a thought to.
"No. You can't," She said resolutely. "Have you even thought about what it means?"
"Of course I have. It's going to hurt you, and you're going to feel disconnected from your family. I don't want you to have to go through-"
"And I won't allow you to do it in my place," she said firmly, but more gently than before. Of course he had only thought about what it meant for her and not for himself. It was such a Harry thing to do. Softly, aiming to keep the words between just the two of them, she said, "Harry, I know how much a connection to your parents means to you and I won't let you give that up. My family is still here, I don't need this." She took both his hands in hers now, rubbing circles on the backs as she continued, "Everything will be fine. You don't need to take on the world by yourself. If it's down to me or you, I want to be the one to do it." She also knew all about his mother's sacrificial protection and refused to allow it to be compromised any more than it already had; that wasn't something to be mentioned here however.
Harry gripped her hands tighter in his, the conflict raging within him obvious by the tormented look on his face as his eyes searched hers. She kept hers resolute, but tried to be reassuring as well. She knew it was hard for him to let other people carry the burden when he felt it should have been his duty, but she would never allow him to do this in her stead. When he nodded, she felt something loosen in her chest and warmth spread through her in its place. Despite the grimace on his face and his obvious reluctance to do so, he still trusted her in allowing her to help carry the burden he felt belonged to him. The knowledge both gave her courage and made her feel powerful.
Turning back to Ragnok, who they had so rudely interrupted, she said, "Apologies, Director. We did not mean to interrupt the proceedings. That news was rather unexpected. We beg your pardon and will refrain from doing so again." She still felt rather ridiculous trying to speak so formally, but she really didn't want to upset him any further.
The Goblin eyed them dispassionately, looking slightly vexed, but nodded. "Very well, then. Let us carry on with these proceedings, so that we may move on to the ceremony that will allow you to accept your new position as Head of House Black."
The rest of the will reading passed in a blur to Ginny as her nerves rose. She determinedly kept her hand in Harry's, maintaining a steady pressure, so as not to tip him off. She couldn't pretend not to be nervous, but she could at least keep him from seeing the worst of it. He didn't need that on his conscience. She instinctively knew he was still wondering if he made the right call in backing down over who would become the heir, even if he didn't really have a choice.
Finally, Ragnok straightened the parchment before him and looked up at them. "That completes the reading of the will. Do either of you have any questions?"
They both responded in the negative, their hands gripping one another tightly all the while.
Ragnok nodded his approval, "Then you both need to sign the original document, acknowledging your presence here today and acceptance of what has thus far been stated." He pulled out a black feathered quill and handed it first to Ginny. Harry's hand clenched down on hers tightly enough to hurt hers almost simultaneously. Her eyes darted to him at the pain, only to find him staring daggers at the quill; his jaw clenched so tightly that it had to hurt, his eyes hard. Oh. She knew what kind of quill this was.
Careful not to show any emotion, she looked at the will before her. Sirius had written it in his own hand. The signature just spaces above hers was his, written in his own blood. It both turned her stomach and created a sense of longing so strong that her chest hurt, but she kept it all locked tightly within herself. With deliberate ease, she unflinchingly signed her name with the quill, the words "Ginevra Molly Weasley" appearing in her own blood on the page.
Gently removing her hand from his, Ginny handed the quill to Harry. The slight hesitation was enough for her to pick up on and she tried to meet his eyes. His gaze was locked onto the quickly fading imprint of her name on the back of her hand. She wanted to smile at the overreaction - it hadn't even hurt that badly - but knew she couldn't write off what he had been through the last time he had used a quill like this. Given how quickly her hand was healing, the scars on his hand were evidence of how truly terrible his experience with Umbridge must have been.
"Harry," she said gently. His eyes finally rose to meet hers, softening as they did so. She smiled reassuringly. "It's only for a moment. Remember why we're doing this."
He nodded tightly in response, not truly relaxing but agreeing none-the-less. He quickly signed his name, not wincing in the slightest as it appeared on his hand, and dropped the quill immediately after. His quickly healing hand sought hers and she took it without hesitation, offering him another smile in an attempt to put him at ease.
She looked back to Ragnok. He was just finishing the filing of the documents before looking up at Ginny specifically. "Miss Weasley, while there are several rituals that could be used to allow you to take the position of Head of House Black, the easiest of them uses the Black family rings. Do you have them in your possession today?"
She nodded, her throat dry. Harry spoke up for her, "Yes, sir." He reached into his pocket, removing the bag containing the two rings and handed it to the goblin. The first thing she had done when she had seen him again was force them back into his possession. She knew she'd have to take them back, that at the bare minimum, she'd be forced to wear Orion's for the ritual, but she didn't want to have them on her person any longer than necessary.
Her chest tightened with nerves as Ragnok pulled the rings from the bag. The time to actually have to face the consequences of her decision had arrived. Each beat of hear heart spread coldness throughout her body like ice in her veins as the anxiety spread. The one warm spot that remained was her hand where it intertwined with Harry's. Suddenly it didn't matter how weak it made her feel, all she wanted was more of the security and comfort he brought her. She refused to voice it, however, knowing the last thing she wanted to do with give Harry any reason to believe that she shouldn't be the one doing this.
Ragnok picked up Walburga's ring, inspecting it from multiple angles and speaking some strange words in Gobbledegook. Ginny watched, simultaneously sickened by the sight of the ring and unable to look away from the strange actions her was performing. When he finished his chant, the ring glowed brightly. He performed the same on Orion's ring, yielding similar results, though Ginny noticed the glow was not as bright this time.
"Excellent," Ragnok nodded to himself, before looking at Ginny once more. "It is a good thing you provided both rings. I was concerned you would only bring the signet ring, under the assumption that Orion Black had been the last Head of house Black." Ginny's eyes widened at the implication and Ragnok gave her a knowing look. "Yes, I see you understand. While it was kept quiet, Walburga Black did take on the position after her husband died, hoping to leave the Black family legacy in the hands of her own relations, as she disapproved of her husband's closest remaining family."
Ginny understood. Walburga Black had hated the Prewitts and especially her mother for marrying a Weasley, so it made sense that she had taken steps to ensure it passed through her own bloodline instead. She didn't understand how the Black inheritance could have gone to Sirius and then her and Harry if that were the case though.
"However, her most recent will designated Bellatrix Lestrange as her heir. Once Mrs. Lestrange had been sentenced to life in Azkaban by the Wizengamot, she was no longer an eligible recipient of the estate and the will was deemed invalid per Gringotts' agreements with the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately for Mrs. Black, she never submitted another will before her death, and the estate reverted back to the next eligible Black, Sirius Black."
Ginny and Harry nodded along, indicating their understanding. They had already discussed how Sirius's inheritance and ability to designate it to them had worked. There was only one question Ginny had now.
"So what does Walburga being the last Head of the family mean? Her ring was brighter. Does that mean I have to…" Ginny swallowed heavily. "Do I have to wear… that?"
"Indeed, Miss Weasley." Ragnok replied. "The ritual we are about to perform will leave you weakened as the Black family magic replaces the Weasley family magic you are accustomed to relying on. The female Black ring has actually spent more time on the hand of Heads of House Black than the traditional male signet ring." Ragnok smiled maliciously, unnerving her. "The males of the Black family have a tendency to be combative and often die before their time. Most of the wizarding world is unaware of it, but the Black women have spent more time running that house than the men. As such, this ring," he held of the disgusting work of art, "will provide the best focus for the magic and will help the process complete faster. However, both rings would be wisest. I have heard it can be quite… overwhelming, however. Some cannot bare it and use only one focus. We shall see how you fare."
With those ominous words, he began to assemble the pieces he needed for the ritual. All too quickly, she was standing alone before Ragnok, with the Black family rings and a goblin ceremonial knife before her. Ragnok had instructed Harry to stand back, so that his magic would not interfere. She kept her chin up, but she had wanted to whimper as Harry was letting go of her hand.
The ritual began with Ragnok chanting in Gobbledegook, the rings lighting up once more. Eventually, he began speaking in English again, asking her to repeat the words back. She diligently repeated the words, relinquishing any ties to the Weasley line and declaring her loyalty, life, and magic to the House of Black, but she hardly processed any of it. There was a momentary shock of pain as the knife pricked her finger and Ragnok pressed a droplet onto the top of Walburga's monstrosity of a ring.
She felt it the moment the ritual began to root the combination of her parents magic out of her, all of it being drained except for that small section that originated from the Black line to begin with. It felt as if her magic had been a tub full of water and someone had pulled the plug, allowing all of her energy, both magical and physical, to slip away down the drain with it. As her energy ebbed and she weakened, pain so fierce it made her nauseas filled the gaps. A small part of her prayed she could hold the sickness back, unsure that her body had the strength to even force bile out of her throat without causing her to suffocate on it.
The small pool of Black magic that remained felt foreign now that it had separated from the rest of the magic she had always known since birth, but it was enough to keep her conscious - enough to prevent her from becoming lost entirely like she had been in the Chamber. Still, the pain and the feeling of something not right with her magic made the experience far too similar for her liking. Suddenly there was a surge in the Black magic within her and she became more aware, now able to feel that one of the Black family rings had been placed on her hand while she was hovering on the verge of passing out.
As Ragnok continued the ritual, she felt the magic flowing through the ring and into her at a steady pace, allowing her to fully come back to herself. She still hurt and felt weak enough that she worried her legs may give out, but at least she could hear and see what was going on around her.
She glanced down at Walburga's ring. Despite appearing as normal and cool to the touch as ever - and by that she meant as disgustingly reminiscent of the Basilisk as when she had first laid eyes on it - the metal felt hot where it wrapped around her finger, almost searingly so, but it was better than the feeling of being on the verge of death as she had felt moments ago.
At least, that was what she thought until she discovered what it felt like as the second ring was slipped onto her pointer finger by Ragnok. Instead of simply doubling, the magic coursing through rose exponentially as the two focal points worked together to funnel the magic into her. Suddenly it was too much, too intense where the magic was being directed and she instinctively fought against it. The only thing should could even begin to describe it as would be like receiving a continuous lightning strike to the hand. Despite the weakness she had felt moments ago, every muscle in her body now clamped tightly, and for the first time since the ritual began, a scream forced its way through her clenched teeth.
Almost instantaneously, she felt Harry wrap his arms around her from behind. The pain had eradicated all her primary senses - touch, scent, taste, sight, hearing - yet she knew he was there. She couldn't have explained her knowledge that it was him in any other way than that she felt it through the magic. She had known they were connected magically, a connection created by magic drawn from the Black family line, but she could never have anticipated that she would be able to feel it so clearly. She vaguely heard Harry's urgent tones addressed to Ragnok and the Goblins skeptical reply, but she couldn't focus past the pain. She did feel it abruptly stop when Harry removed Orion's ring from her finger.
She sagged against him in relief, her body spent as her muscles loosened. Part of her wanted to yell at him, demand he put it back on her so that she would recover faster. Being magically weakened at a time like this would pose a risk to both of them and she would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to him because she couldn't withstand a little pain. The larger part of her was far too tired to even contemplate trying to be that tough at present.
Then she felt more magical energy flowing into her, except it was coming from a different source, much softer and more comforting than the flow that originated from Walburga's ring. This energy, although clearly still that of the Blacks, was tinged with something far more familiar and intimate. Forcing her heavy eyes open, she looked down and saw Harry's hands wrapped around her middle keeping her upright, Orion's ring on the fourth finger of his left hand.
Unable to actually form words, she focused on forcing her hand to slide up over top his. The squeeze she gave him was probably the weakest thing he had ever felt, but it was all she could muster. Regardless, he seemed to understand and whispered in her ear, "I've got you, Gin. I promise."
Ginny tried to nod, but was fairly confident she failed before she drifted into unconsciousness. Even in the unknown darkness, she could feel Harry's presence beside her and knew she was safe, because Harry felt like home.
When she came back to herself, she was met by disorientation. She was warm, too warm, as if she had a fever. Overall, she felt wrong. It would actually make sense if she were sick, as everything hurt and her head spun. It reminded her of that time she got drunk with Fred and George, but she couldn't remember drinking and the tell-tale foul taste of fire whiskey wasn't lingering in her mouth. Cracking her eyes open, she was met with far too much light and she let out an involuntary moan as the pain in her head spiked.
A pair of arms tightened around her, letting her know that it wasn't just her physical weakness locking her into place. She inhaled a surprised breath, panic setting in at being so vulnerable. The fear immediately dissipated as the scent registered, as did the voice that spoke to her at her movement.
"Gin?" Harry. "Hey, you okay?" Worry saturated his tone and his fingers brushed through her hair.
She kept her eyes closed and hummed at the comfort the action brought. It's even better than when Mum does it, she thought as memories floated through her mind of the similar ministrations her mother always bestowed upon her when she was ill. He even felt like the Burrow always did, welcoming and soothing in a way that she hadn't felt in almost two years now. Why is Harry taking care of me, though?
He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as she leaned more purposefully into him. He tilted his head forward, bringing his face to rest against the top of her head. The warm breaths he released there spread comfort throughout her body, dispelling some of the general sense that something was off within her. She felt his lips moving against her hair and heard the faintest, "Thank Merlin."
There was a rough throat clearing from nearby. The voice that accompanied it was harsh and impatient. "Yes, as I told you several times over the past three minutes, while the effects of the ritual are disorienting, they are not harmful. Miss Black seems to be fighting the process, but she will be entirely fine once the magic is settled." The words stirred some sort of recognition in her, something unpleasant and frightening, but she couldn't focus on it quickly enough to put the pieces together, nor did she think she was quite capable of speaking yet.
She may have even drifted off to sleep again, had it not been for the feeling of Harry's words vibrating against her cheek. Harry responded sounding sheepish, "Apologies, Director." Director. Ragnok. Goblin. Gringotts. The connection ignited the pathway within her mind, revealing what she had forgotten, but it was something that she didn't want to face. She squeezed her eyes tighter, pressing herself closer to Harry. With more conviction, he continued, "Now what else needs to be done? Ginny should really be getting some rest."
Under any other circumstances, Ginny would have balked at the accusation that she needed rest. Right now though, she truly was dead tired and knew that she wanted to be as far away from their situation as possible. Knowledge she was trying desperately to suppress leaked across her mind. You can't outrun this. Her weak hands fisted Harry's robes tightly, but the fabric was all wrong, too stiff and formal for his usual wear, only further driving home the truth.
"Very well. Miss Black," Ragnok said. "Now that you have formally accepted your position, there are a few documents that need signing to accept the transfer of certain acquired assets that have been held in escrow, awaiting transfer into the Black accounts."
She knew he was addressing her, but couldn't bring herself to respond. The goblin huffed in impatience, but she just gave her head the slightest shake. Thankfully, Harry picked up on the movement.
"I don't think Ginny is feeling up to reading or signing anything. Is it possible we could wait?" Harry asked.
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Potter. If the transfers aren't complete before your Minister arrives, Gringotts may have to transfer them to Ministry approved inheritor, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy I believe."
Harry groaned in frustration and his body tensed beneath her. She did her best to lift her head, determined to do what she could to rectify the situation. She wouldn't let that bitch win, wouldn't give the Malfoy and Lestrange families any more advantage. Unfortunately, the simple movement caused the room to spin violently and her stomach turned.
She let out a pitiful moan - she truly was feeling pathetic at this point - and Harry gently hushed her in response. His hand brushed her hair soothingly again. Leaning down he murmured in her ear, "Don't. Don't try to move. Just take it easy. I'll figure it out."
She didn't want him to figure it out himself, though. He always took the burdens of others on himself. She just wanted to be able to do this for him. Her present incapacitation wouldn't allow it, however, and she sagged back against him in defeat.
Ragnok spoke up again. "As a bonded couple, you maintain equal status of control over all accounts and transactions overseen by the bank." Harry's body jumped to attention beneath her and she cringed at the sudden movement. His attention was fully on the goblin before them. "Mr. Potter, you may oversee and accept these transactions in Miss Black's stead if she is willing."
Drumming up as much energy as she could muster, she hoarsely said, "Yes." The one word was all she could manage, but it seemed to be enough.
The exhaustion crept its way through her body and mind again, sending her into a state somewhere between waking and sleep. The steady rise and fall of Harry's chest didn't increase her sense of vertigo, the way she would have expected, but instead soothed her. She was only vaguely aware that they were talking. Her mind was too tired to even try to guess at what that might be.
She woke when Harry shifted purposefully. "Gin?" He asked, his tone concerned. She wondered if he had said her name more than once, because his hand was on her cheek and tilting her head back. His bright green eyes were looking intently at her. "I have to move you for a minute. Do you think you can sit up in the other chair?"
If she were being honest, she wasn't sure that she could actually. It wasn't something she was about to admit, even if she were able to form that many words, however. Quietly, her voice still raspy, she replied with a quick, "Yeah."
Harry's eyes roamed over her face. He didn't say anything, but he still looked concerned. The gentleness with which he placed her in the chair further supported the idea that he wasn't quite sure she'd be okay. Smartly, he had placed her sideways in the chair, so that her legs were curled up and the arm supported her back, letting the chair do most of the work. She could probably just fall right back to sleep until it was time to leave. Still, she forced herself to keep her eyes open and look at Harry. Even though she was properly seated now, his hands lingered, one at her neck and the other on her side, making sure she wouldn't fall. He had waited until she met his gaze to let go. In one quick motion, he dropped his hands and turned to the desk, as if any scant millisecond he could save mattered.
Ginny might have laughed if the situation were different. As it was, however, Harry's hands leaving her had the same effect as being dropped in a cauldron full of ice. Her skin burned from the coldness that now crawled all over her and the unfamiliar feeling of an intruder within her body flared. She curled into herself defensively, her breathing coming in great gasps as the panic hit.
She'd felt this way before.
With her eyes closed tightly, the opulent white room faded from her memory and she would have sworn she was in the depths of the Chamber of Secrets again. If she opened her eyes, she knew she would see it, that horrible statue of Salazar Slytherin and the ghostly, solidifying image of Tom Riddle standing over her. She felt her magic being rooted out, merged with something foreign. Already, she could feel the dirt and grime under her nails, knowing that no matter how clean they looked, her hands would always be stained with the guilt of what she had done.
As quickly as the panic attack came, it retreated. Warmth rushed back in and she came back to herself, noting she had been lifted out of the chair once more. Harry, she knew. It wasn't like being warmed by a fire, it was more like the sensation provided by hot chocolate after a run-in with dementors, like warmth from within spreading outward, both physically and mentally. There was nothing that gave her that feeling more than Harry did. Even more tired than before, she sagged into him.
The bloody Chamber was always there it seemed. Usually it hovered just out of range, waiting to surge into her consciousness at the least opportune moment, but at present it was front and center. How could it not be? The only time she'd ever felt this horrible had been waking up in that horrible, dank cavern after coming back from the brink of death.
There was nothing she hated more about herself than that weakness. Harry had barely put her down for a moment before she had a panic attack. She needed to pull herself together. It wasn't fair for him to have to take care of her like this, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would feel like he had to. Like he owed it to her somehow because she was the one to take on the Black name instead of him. Pull it together- if not for yourself, do it for him. He'll be in danger if he's too focused on you.
The last thought is what really hit her. Harry had almost died before because of her weakness. He was now stuck with her and had lost his chance to find a wife to build a family with because of the choices she had made back when they were children. There was nothing she could do to change those things, but she could stop being weak now. She could become an asset instead of a liability. She owed him that much.
Her determination firm, she forced herself to lift her head, bringing her face with in centimeters of his, and smiled weakly at him. "I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." The words were no less raspy and weak sounding than her earlier ones, but he looked reassured at having heard more than one word from her.
His forehead touched hers as he exhaled in relief. The warmth increased, almost uncomfortably so, but not quite, not like it had been when she had first woken. Like stepping into a warm bath, she was becoming accustomed to it. It didn't really matter if being close to Harry made her feel warmer than she should; it was preferable to the fire she had felt burning her when she had been wearing both Black rings and much better than the cold she had felt alone. And there was nothing more comforting than Harry…
Snap out of it.
As if he had heard her thoughts, he pulled back from the intimate position and began walking toward the door as he spoke. "We're all done now, Gin. I'm going to get you home and then you'll be able to rest, okay?"
"Okay," she replied as firmly as she could, the lack of strength behind it clawing at her. She forced herself to keep her eyes open and lift her head. It felt like it was filled with lead for all the effort it took to do so, but she persisted. If she was going to occupy his hands, the least she could do was keep an eye on their surroundings.
Even carrying her, Harry somehow managed to open the door where they found Bill waiting for them. It seemed he had been there for some time, as he had been agitatedly pacing while rubbing his chest when she saw him. She caught the way he sagged in relief at the sight of them, but also the way his face fell into sad lines.
It was still comforting to see her big brother and she loved him as much as ever, but there was no familiar pull of her magic recognizing one of its own. It was something she had never even noticed used to be there until it was gone. The look on his face had told her he felt the difference too.
He forced a smile for here. "Hey Firefly. You okay?"
"Yeah," she replied, forcing her own smile in return.
Harry huffed, readjusting his grip. "No," he said tersely. "She's not fine. We need to get out of here, and we're not going to fit under the cloak like this. Isn't there any other way out of here besides going back up the alley to the Leaky?"
Bill shook his head. "Not from here. Gringotts has blocked access to properties under the Fidelius through the floo system here to help prevent thieves from escaping. If you head the other way down the alley though, Fred and George would let you use theirs." He grimaced before continuing, "I'd help, but I've already spent my lunch break and then some waiting out here. I'll never get permission to leave now."
Ginny looked up and saw Harry's pinched look as he thought it over. He nodded quickly, though he still looked concerned. "Right. We'll just have to do that then and hope we're not spotted. At least there are fewer people that way."
Bill began leading them down to the entryway. The sound of Bill's name ringing down the hall caused them to pause as her brother turned around happily.
"Fleur!" He greeted, confirming what Ginny already knew - she'd recognize those throaty tones as belonging to Fleur no matter what state she was in. The phlegm-like accent was even worse than she remembered. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't feeling well."
Fleur answered Bill, but Ginny ignored it. Even if she hadn't been too tired to try and decipher the accented English, she would have been distracted by the warmth in her brother's tone and demeanor. It made her feel guilty for thinking so poorly of the girl; if she made Bill this happy then she couldn't be as bad as Ginny had thought. She resolved to try and give the French girl another chance and did her best to follow along with what she was saying.
"- your brother has already arrived with Madame Malfoy. They are arguing in the grand hall at the moment. It would be best if we can get Harry and Ginny out of here unseen."
Bill rubbed a tired hand across his face. "I was trying. I brought them in under an invisibility cloak, but it won't cover them like that and Ginny isn't in any condition to walk."
Fleur turned and gave Ginny an appraising gaze. Despite her resolution to give Fleur a chance only moments ago, the assessing look on the perfect part-Veela face before her raised Ginny's ire. She squirmed in Harry's grasp and said, "Put me down. I can do this. I'll be fine."
Harry didn't look remotely convinced, but still respected that she didn't want to be argued with. He gently lowered her feet to the ground, but kept a firm grip on her. Much to her disappointment, she swayed and it was only Harry's reflexes that managed to keep her up. Embarrassed and angry, Ginny felt the absurd urge to cry and buried her face in Harry's chest. The comfort his arms brought as they wrapped around her made her feel even more pathetic.
A hand gently gripped her shoulder. She turned to see Fleur offering a vial of Pepper-Up potion. "Take it. It may be enough to get you out of here."
Ginny took the vial, swallowing it quickly. Whatever bad feelings she had toward Fleur were not enough to make her think she had anything to fear from her. She felt the steam as it poured out of her ears and nose, a modicum of strength returning to her in the process. Her feet and legs were suddenly cooperating again, even if they felt heavier than normal. She sighed in relief, feeling Harry do the same as she stood more soundly.
Discomfort warred with her relief, however. She knew she had to thank Fleur for her help, but despite feeling much better physically, it was going to be difficult. It was as close as she could make herself come to apologizing for thinking poorly of the girl, however, and she hated apologizing. Hell, she hadn't even apologized to Harry for her part in their fight last night and she liked him. Grimacing internally, she promised herself she'd rectify that later.
Focusing on the present, she swallowed her pride. She forced herself to look Fleur in the eye and said, "Thank you, for the potion and for the robes."
"You're welcome," Fleur replied, taking Ginny's hand and squeezing gently. Her eyes were soft and the smile she wore warm. For the first time, Ginny didn't feel like Fleur was looking at her with condescension, and her answering smile was small, but genuine. "Let us go now. I'll lead you, but we must hurry. I do not know for how long the potion will last."