Author's Notes:
Standard Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR. That you JKR for letting us play with your toys.
I will continue to use the occasional song lyric in the story and will give credit at the time when needed.
This is the fifth book in my Slytherin Harry series.
Book 1 Harry Potter and the Muggle's Daughter.
Book 2: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Book 3: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Book 4: Harry Potter and the Blood Traitor's Daughter
Book 5: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
If you haven't read books 1-4 you won't know what's going on. But the bonus is you've got four completed books before you even get to this one!
HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
CHAPTER XXIV
Please Don't
HPHPHP
Harry bolted upright. "Ginny!"
Mrs Tonks stood from her chair. "Easy, Love. She is safe."
"Define safe."
"She is in stasis. As are Cedric, Fleur and Viktor."
"Right," Harry said. "How long has it been?"
"Twelve hours."
"That's all?"
"Yes." Harry grimaced slightly and flexed his arm a number of times. His sleeve slid up, revealing dozens of fading red circles. He raised his shirt, revealing dozens more across his stomach and chest. "How do you feel?"
Harry dropped his shirt. "Well, it doesn't tickle… Am I allowed to get up?"
"If you think you can."
"And I can see her?"
"You can, though we should talk first."
"What do you mean? What's wrong with her?"
"Ginny is in stasis, Love. But stasis does not halt everything. One breath and one beat of the heart per every five minutes, the poison has been slowed; but it is still killing her."
Harry frowned. "Why just stasis? Why not the freezing spell Ginny used on Remus?"
Mrs Tonks sighed. "I will admit that spell saved Remus' life. But it is also quite dangerous and could just as easily have killed him. Stasis, as it provides nearly the same benefits with far fewer risks, is the normal protocol."
"But she'll be fine once the antidote is finished, right? They'll give it to her and she'll recover."
"We hope for a full recovery, Harry."
"Hope, what do you mean hope?"
"There are always variables. Given the proper treatment most individuals will survive a kraken sting. But most individuals suffer only one or two stings, not the nearly two thousand Ginny has."
Harry paled. "Two thousand?" he croaked.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I wish I had better news, but I make a practice of never lying to you. I do not intend to start now. Ginny is very sick. At least as sick as you were after the basilisk. She is in for the fight of her life and faces a long and difficult road to recovery."
Harry pushed his covers off and swung his feet over the edge of his bed. "I want to see her." Mrs Tonks moved to help him. "I'm fine," he snapped.
"Pretend I just wish to hold your arm."
"Sorry," he said contritely. "Which way?"
"Come along." She led him to the far end of the infirmary. She stopped him outside the screen to Ginny's bed. "Ready?"
"Yes."
She let his arm go. "Go on then."
Harry braced himself and stepped around the screen. He sucked in a sharp breath on seeing her. Ginny was lying on her back, her arms on top of the blankets. The bedding was unnaturally straight; if not for her being under the covers the bed may as well have been made. Her arms and neck were covered in angry red circles about the size of a pound coin marking where the kraken's suckers had held her. Black puss oozed from the center of each sting. Not even her face had been spared, with two welts oozing puss on her left cheek. Anywhere not blemished by a sting, her skin was dull and gray; even her freckles had faded to where he could barely discern them. Her eyes were sunken with great black circles underneath. Fearfully he edged to the bed.
Was this what he had looked like after the basilisk? Even knowing she was in stasis he couldn't stop the sudden terror she was dead. Hand shaking he reached for her cheek. Just then she took a single, tiny breath and blew it out. His knees nearly buckled with relief. Reaching for her hand he might have imagined it when her fingers seemed to curl around his but chose to believe she knew he was there. Without really thinking he climbed on the bed and lay down on his side facing her. "I'm here," he whispered.
Madam Pomfrey came bustling around the corner. She stopped and let out a strangled sort of gasp. Mrs Tonks grabbed her arm. "There's nothing inappropriate happening."
Madam Pomfrey looked at the other woman incredulously. "They are fourteen," she hissed.
"And I'm right here chaperoning."
"It is highly inappropriate for him to be in her bed."
"Would you mind taking your discussion somewhere out of her hearing?" Harry asked. "You're upsetting her."
Madam Pomfrey blinked a number of times. "Excuse me?"
"You're upsetting her. Please argue somewhere else."
The two women glanced at each other before moving around the opposite side of the bed from Harry. "What do you mean we're upsetting her?" the matron asked.
"I can feel it," Harry said.
"What do you mean?"
"Ginny and I, when we touch, there's this tingling feeling. The feeling changes with our mood. Most of the time it's just comforting, but if we're angry with each other it can be painful."
"Painful?"
"Like a nasty shock."
The matron frowned. "And you can feel this now?"
"Yes. It's sick."
"Sick?"
"It feels sour; like milk that's gone off."
"Milk that's gone off?"
"Yes."
The matron exchanged looks with Mrs Tonks. "It is not the first I have heard of this," Mrs Tonks said.
"I see," the matron said. "And why do you think our arguing is upsetting her?"
"Because you want to take me away from her."
The matron gave him a skeptical look. "And how do I know you simply aren't fabricating a story so that I will allow you to stay where you are?"
"Trust," Harry answered.
"The last time I trusted you I seem to remember finding you covered in love bites the next morning." Mrs Tonks raised a brow.
"Technically that was her."
"Technically you were an active participant."
"She's in stasis, Ma'am… Please?" She still looked doubtful. "Please," Harry said again.
"You," the matron huffed, "are more trouble than you're worth."
Mrs Tonks chuckled softly. "He does that to you."
HPHPHP
"She's crashing!" Professor Paddington cried. On the bed Ginny convulsed violently while he, Mrs Tonks and Madam Pomfrey worked frantically. Two days had passed since the second task and Ginny, being the one with the venom in her system the longest before being placed in stasis, was the first of the three to be woken and given the antivenin.
"It's too much," Madam Pomfrey said, as much to herself as anyone. She cast charm after charm trying to stabilize Ginny. But, while kraken venom wasn't nearly so horrid as that of the basilisk, it was still extremely potent. Even a single sting could prove fatal without proper treatment and Ginny, having been stung near two thousand times, was drowning in venom.
"Put her in stasis again," Professor Paddington said.
"What?"
"The potion isn't strong enough. Put her in stasis again so I can try and refine it further."
"It doesn't work that way," Mrs Tonks protested. Matron Pomfrey cast the charms to put Ginny back in stasis again anyway. "Stasis doesn't stop everything," Mrs Tonks went on. "And bringing her out and then putting her back, you saw how far along it had advanced. There isn't time to brew it again. She'll die before it's finished, stasis or not."
"I know," he said, "but trying to strengthen it is all we have."
They watched Ginny for a moment. "I've never lost a student," Madam Pomfrey whispered.
Professor Paddington reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "She's not gone yet." Madam Pomfrey said nothing. "I'll fix the potion," he said and hurried away.
"I'll help," Mrs Tonks said.
A tear slid down the Matron's cheek as she continued to watch Ginny. How am I going to tell, Har… "Potter!" she said and spun around. "Healer Tonks, wait!"
"Just to be certain," Sirius said, "this isn't going to make her his sister or something, is it?"
"What?" Hermione yelped. "Why on earth would a blood transfusion make her Harry's sister?"
"Because there are very old and archaic laws still in effect regarding the bonding of blood like this, Hermione," Daphne answered.
"Very true," Mrs Tonks said.
"Exactly," Sirius said. "I'd hate to wake up tomorrow and find out Ginny was legally Harry's sister."
"Or even his wife," Lord Greengrass said.
Hermione stared at them with wide eyes. "That's ridiculous. What if it were Neville? Are you telling me a simple blood transfusion could see him end up legally being Harry's husband?"
"Hermione," Neville groaned, "that's just…" he shuddered. "Why would you even say something like that?"
"I never said the laws made sense," Sirius said.
"But it is a legitimate concern," Lord Greengrass said.
"We're wasting time," Harry exploded. "Just get it set up and do it already!"
"Pup," Sirius tried to placate him. "I'm just trying to understand the possible repercussions."
"Better my sister than dead," Harry snapped.
"And better your wife than your sister," Bill interjected.
Everyone turned to him. "W–what?" Harry asked.
"Her answer is on your finger, Harry. If there's a concern, then let's be certain it's on the side you both want." Silence settled on the gathering.
"There would be no going back for either of them," Lord Greengrass said.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"To bind them in that manner would be to make unbreakable vows," Mrs Tonks answered. "They could never divorce or even be with someone else. The act of breaking the vow would kill the one who did so. Even the death of one would not free the one who remained to find love with another."
"It would also subjugate Ginny to Harry," Daphne spoke up.
Harry looked at her sharply. "What?"
"She would be subjugated to you just like Ginevra's mother was to her father."
"Only you couldn't emancipate her," Lord Greengrass said. "She would always be subjugated to a male head of the family."
"How can you do that!" Hermione demanded. "She can't even speak for herself."
"William can speak for her," Mrs Tonks answered. "As a head of the family of the Sacred Twenty-eight it is his right to speak for any daughter who is not yet an adult. Some interpretations might even allow him to speak for her if she were of age and was not married.
"No," Harry said. He shook his head. "Absolutely not. Ginny will marry me when and if she chooses to, and it will be her words that bind her to me, no one else's."
"Besides," Luna spoke up. "It's not like they would actually be sister and brother. And while there might be curses to being a daughter of the Sacred Twenty-eight, this time she is protected in that it is still perfectly legal for her to marry her brother."
"A pertinent point," Mrs Tonks observed.
"Well," Hermione threw her hands up. "There you go. She can marry her brother. I don't know why I expected anything different from this fucked up society. Are you absolutely certain they outlawed concubines?" Everyone stared at her. "What?" she demanded.
"You said, fucked," Harry said.
Her eyes narrowed. "Your point?"
"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "Didn't have one."
"Good, then you best get on with saving my sister, yes."
"Exactly," Daphne said. "And I don't care if, through some loophole, they are still legal, don't get any ideas about Neville being part of your concubine." She crossed her arms and glowered at Harry.
"Urgh, Daphne," Neville complained.
Despite himself Harry grinned at her. "He wishes he could be part of my concubine."
"I wish I was deaf," Neville retorted. "It would have saved me hearing this conversation."
"We're decided then?" Madam Pomfrey broke in.
"Yes," Harry and Bill answered together.
Fifteen minutes later Harry lay on his back on an expanded bed beside Ginny. The matron numbed their hands before making cuts across both his and Ginny's palms. She then placed Ginny's right hand in Harry's left before manipulating their free hands over their heads so she could place her left in his right. "Now," she said, "I'm going to immobilize you so you don't slip. You'll still be able to talk, though I expect you will eventually pass out as your body fights the poison within Ginny's."
"You think it will be that bad?" Harry asked. He hadn't exactly felt great since the second task – he'd been stung well over a thousand times himself – but mostly he was just really achy. And even that had gone away within about half an hour of being given professor Paddington's antidote.
"You would be the best judge of that, Harry," Mrs Tonks said. "But Ginny is at least as sick as you were after the basilisk. On top of your own battle, you are going to be taking on hers. To be perfectly honest, I can only speculate on what is going to happen."
Harry frowned. "You're telling me she could still die, yes?"
"She could."
"Promise me one thing."
"I cannot promise that, Harry," the Matron said. "If it appears the transfusion is going to kill you too, I will have no choice but to sever the bond."
Harry pressed his lips together. "Then swear you'll remember what I've already survived."
She squeezed his shoulder. "Trust me, Harry, I know what you are capable of."
"Then do it."
Drawing her wand she held it over their clasped hands between their bodies. She then began to softly chant. Harry didn't recognize any of the words but assumed she was speaking in Kannada. After all, even more so than curse-breakers, it was the language of healers. He knew something was happening though when the sickly, wrong feeling of Ginny's hand in his became a torrent of acidic fire moving like molten lava into his palm and up his arm. "Ahhh," he hissed painfully and, if not for having been immobilized would have jerked away from Ginny."
Hermione lurched forward in Sirius' arms. "Stop!" she cried.
Almost as fast as the pain came Harry felt Kaa's protection respond, surging out of his chest to meet the incoming menace. "No," he gasped. "Keep," he panted, "going."
"Harry—"
"'m fine," Harry bit out.
The matron hadn't stopped and she shifted her wand over Harry and Ginny's clasped hands over their heads. She kept her soft chant up and a few moments later Harry sucked in a breath as he felt blood leaving his body and flowing into Ginny's. His heart raced and he broke into a cold sweat while his breath came in great gasps.
Mrs Tonks placed a calming hand on his forehead. "Breathe, Harry," she soothed. "Just breathe."
"Ca–can't," Harry panted.
"You must. If you can't calm yourself we'll be forced to sever the bond… Come on, you've done this before. Relaxed and easy, breathe." Slowly, painfully, Harry forced his breathing under control. Agonizingly, his heart responded as well.
"There we go," the matron said. "Nothing like basilisk venom, yes?"
"As – Long – As – It – Takes," Harry panted. "Swear."
"As long as you don't pass out," she countered.
"You – Better – Take – Pep –Pepperupp–per."
"I've got it right here."
"G–good – You're – G–going – To – Need – It."
Daphne stood at the head of the bed and gently wiped the sweat from Harry's brow before doing the same for Ginny. She had interest in being a healer and the matron had allowed her to watch over Harry and Ginny while she used the toilet and grabbed a quick bite to eat. The woman was only ten steps away but Daphne was quite honored to be trusted with even this small task. It had been twelve hours since they'd started the transfusion between her best friend and the boy she considered to be her brother and she was exhausted. Exhausted and awed. She simply didn't know how Harry was doing it. He was in agony. It was plain to see. Yet he simply refused to give in. For twelve long hours she watched him grimacing back new waves of pain; each time convinced this would be the one where he succumbed and passed out only for him to not. She'd thought, after losing Astoria, she would do anything, give anything, survive anything, to ensure she never lost anyone in that manner again. But watching the last twelve hours, as much as she hated to admit it, she was grateful it was Harry and not her. She feared she did not have it in her.
"How are you doing this, Harry?"
"She's getting better," he answered.
"W–what?"
"You asked how I'm doing this."
"I said that out loud?"
"Fraid so." He smiled, though it was more a grimace than anything.
"How bad is it?"
"Had worse… Though I'm not looking forward to the recovery. At least I won't be missing a huge chunk of my leg this time. Tell you the truth; the worst is not being able to move at all. My back is killing me."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault."
"I can still be sorry."
"Suit yourself."
She studied him. "You're speaking more easily."
"Told you. She's getting better."
"How can you tell?"
"Cause she doesn't feel as sick."
"You can feel that?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to get the matron?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Cause I want to keep the bond going as long as possible. If she thinks Ginny's well enough to treat without it, she'll sever it."
"Harry, we all want Ginny to live, but not at the expense of yourself."
Harry chuckled softly. "Trust me, Posh, I'm not going anywhere." She glowered at him. "Really, Daph, I can do this all day."
"You have been doing at all day."
"There's still twelve hours left. And then there's twenty-four more. I can do this as long as she needs."
Just then Ginny let out a soft moan. Daphne turned to her sharply. "Ginny?" Ginny didn't respond. "Ginny?" Daphne tried again. "Can you hear me?" Ginny remained unresponsive. Daphne turned back to Harry. "I better get the matron."
"Fine," he agreed.
HPHPHP
Two day's later Harry clawed his way up from the depths of the deepest sleep he could remember. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the bright shaft of light spilling in from the window. He spotted a head of bushy hair in a chair next to his bed. "Mione," he rasped.
Her head jerked up. She blinked a number of times before focusing on him. "Harry!" she cried, jumping up to wrap her arms around him. "Thank the Goddess you're awake."
Harry hugged her back. "Glad to see you too," he rasped. She started to cry and nearly strangled him. "Easy," he soothed. "I'm fine. I'm fine."
Eventually she let him go and backed away, though she kept tight hold of his hand. "Sorry." She swiped at her tears
"S'ok. Water?" She grabbed a cup and helped him sip from it. "Thanks," he gasped, collapsing back on the bed. Hermione smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. Taking a moment to really look at her, Harry frowned. She looked far worse than he'd have thought a minute or so of crying on his shoulder would have left her. "What's wrong?" She bit her lip. Harry struggled to sit up. "What? Is it Ginny? Tell me."
"She's…"
"She's what, Hermione?" Harry demanded, panicking.
"She still in coma, Harry."
Harry frowned slightly. He'd been warned even with the transfusion Ginny could still die and that if she survived she would still be far sicker than he was. "But she's alive, right? She's recovering."
"She's as good as can be expected," Mrs Tonks said, coming around the curtain. She moved to his bed and took his wrist, probing for his pulse.
"Aren't there monitoring charms?" he asked.
She smiled. "There are, but sometimes it is just good to feel for oneself. How do you feel?"
Harry shrugged. "Been worse. Can I see her?"
"Soon."
Harry glowered. "You're going to keep me in here for weeks, aren't you?"
"Considering you've slept for near two days straight, I should think so. Though your level of feistiness is encouraging."
"Glad I amuse you. Can I see her now?"
Mrs Tonks let out a sigh. She pursed her lips tightly, obviously trying to work herself up to something. He looked at her more closely. Her eyes were puffy like Hermione's. Harry's stomach clenched with a sudden feeling of déjà vu. He slowly shook his head. "Please don't." Mrs Tonks flinched. "Who?" he croaked.
"Fleur," she answered.
Her name was like a time turner – yes, time travel was possible to magical folk – sending him right back to the morgue where he'd seen Astoria's body. Another girl dead because of him. Another girl to be grateful she wasn't Ginny. His stomach clenched and the blood in his head pounded. He struggled to breathe while voices whispered harshly in his mind. You killed me. I thought you were my friend. I saved her and you killed me.
I tried! Harry cried.
You killed me.
I'm sorry. I tried. I'm sorry.
"BREATHE, HARRY!" Harry jolted out of his panic. Mrs Tonks was holding him by the shoulders, having grabbed him and shouted in his face. "Look at me," she ordered. Harry nodded jerkily. "Breathe." He obeyed. "In and out… With me?" He nodded again. "You did not kill her."
DID!
"I—"
"Fleur made a choice to help someone in need. Would you have not helped her?"
"Bu—"
"Did you not risk your life to save both Fleur and her sister? Would you blame her if you had been killed saving them?"
"I shouldn't have been in the tournament."
"That is neither here nor there, Harry. No matter the circumstances, she chose to aid someone in need. Do not diminish her heroism by attempting to take blame that is not yours to carry." Harry was still for a moment before lunging over the edge of the bed for the waist bin. He retched for a number of minutes before wiping his hand across his mouth. Hermione handed him a wet flannel.
"Water," he muttered, wiping at his mouth.
Mrs Tonks handed him a cup with a straw. "Small sips." Harry ignored her and filled his mouth. Swirling it around he spit it in the bin. Twice more he rinsed his mouth before flopping back on the bed. "Sorry," he croaked.
"It's fine," Mrs Tonks said.
Harry pressed his thumb and finger into his eyes. Mrs Tonks and Hermione just let him sit. Eventually he asked, "Cedric and Viktor?"
"Are in coma," Mrs Tonks said. "We are very concerned."
He focused on her. "Why?"
"Kraken venom is a neurotoxin. It affects pathways in the brain. Scans of their brain activity are not encouraging."
"Would you just spit it out?"
"We fear they may be brain dead, Harry."
Harry grimaced and turned away from her. "And Ginny?"
"Is giving encouraging signs," she answered. Harry turned back sharply. "You could not have helped them, Harry."
Harry turned away again. "Can I be alone please?"
"Of course," Mrs Tonks agreed. She stood. "Hermione."
She stood as well. "I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered. He didn't answer and she and Mrs Tonks quietly left.
HPHPHP
Six days after the second task and twenty-four hours after learning of her death, Harry had forced himself out of bed into a wheelchair, intent on seeing Fleur's body. His current minder, Lord Greengrass, pushed him around the curtains, stopping abruptly. Dumbledore stood on the other side of the bed. "We'll come back later," Lord Greengrass said.
The cavernous pit of resignation filling Harry surged with rage and he snapped. How the man even dared look on her he couldn't fathom. He clamped his hands down on the wheels, locking them in place. "Why?" Harry asked softly.
"I'm sorry?" Dumbledore said.
"You knew. Your sister was killed. So why? Are you that arrogant? Was it the need to give Fudge his distraction? Senility? Or is it just you're a right bastard and don't give a damn Arianna was killed because you wanted another chance to beat the thing. I mean it isn't like you didn't eventually settle things with Grindelwald, is it?"
"Do not dare—"
"I dare for Fleur," Harry shouted over him. "I dare for her family; Viktor, Cedric, Ginny. Save your self righteousness arrogance for someone who gives a damn and tell me why!"
Dumbledore pressed his lips into a thin line. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that, Mr Potter."
"More like won't," Harry retorted.
Dumbledore sighed. "Mr Potter, Harry, I know Sirius has told you things, but this enmity you have towards me is rather unfair when you have never heard my side of the story."
Harry's jaw dropped. "You're joking right?"
"There were reasons to place you where I did."
"Reasons?" Harry retorted disdainfully. He stopped, clinching his jaw tightly. "You know what, fine. I can almost accept why you ignored my mother's express words that I not be placed with her sister. I mean the list of people they'd named was pretty decimated after that night. And hey, Blood-Wards are about as strong as the come. So fine, I can see a reason to ignore the will, abuse the trust they placed in you, as well as the power of your position, seal the damn thing and stick me there. Hell, Lord Greengrass here is one of about a dozen people who've told me to put myself in your position and as much as I hate to admit it, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same. So fine, I'll give you your reason. Care to explain the yearly reports with your name on them stating I appeared to be happy, in good health and in a stable environment conducive to the growth of a child?"
"I'm afraid I cannot discus that in present company."
"Of course you can't. Because you lied. You either never checked on me, or you did and you simply didn't care. Myself, I tend to think you simply didn't care. After all, your track record of not giving a damn about the harm children supposedly under your protection suffer is rather extensive, isn't it?"
"I assure you that statement is as far from reality as is possible."
"Years of ignored or tolerated abuses by your pet Death Eater; that certainly showed your concern. How about ignoring the danger to the student body when you hid the Philosopher's Stone in the school? No less a being than the goddess, Nimue, told you off for that one. Or maybe your great concern was showcased when you agreed to host the tournament that killed the girl lying at your feet."
"It is rather impossible for me to mount any sort of defense or to even have a conversation when I have obviously already been tried and found guilty in your eyes."
"You have," Harry answered. "And just like Snape, you're finished."
"I'm finished?"
"You're finished. Your time as Headmaster of this school is over."
Dumbledore raised a brow. "You believe you can dictate to me?"
"We both know you want me at this school. But if you don't go, I'm not staying. I'd say Durmstrang and Beauxbatons have effectively ruled themselves out, but Ilvermorny or Castlebruxo are intriguing."
Dumbledore smiled patronizingly. "While amusing, I'm rather afraid you've overestimate your position, Harry. Neither you, nor myself will be going anywhere."
"Ah, yes," Harry returned in the same patronizing tone. "The prophecy and whole National Asset deal. (A) Do you really think Sirius, with his close relationship with Minister Bones, hasn't taken it into consideration and (B) you've got a problem in that I've already defeated him. Prophecy fulfilled, National Asset, null and void."
Dumbledore had paled slightly on the word 'prophecy' coming out of Harry's mouth and he'd been unable to stop his eyes darting to Lord Greengrass. "Harry, you are speaking of things you should not."
"Why not, the prophecy is fulfilled. It's old news, Sir. Dustbin of history… Unless, of course, you have evidence to present to the contrary. Which, if you did, I imagine Minister Bones and any court hearing a petition from you for the State to take custody of me would take a very dim view of. They might want to know why you were only bringing things to light now when they could have been preparing me from, I don't know, the moment you placed me in an abusive environment and left me there to rot. But, let's say you did manage to convince them Voldemort wasn't gone and they needed to take custody of me. I should think they're going to be rather inclined to give me what I want. After all, taking custody is one thing; they can do that all day long. Getting me to actually do something, that's another thing altogether, isn't it? And, if I'm not mistaken, Minister Bones isn't exactly enamored of you, is she, Sir?" Harry paused and waited. "Your move, Headmaster… Or would you like to hear about the files detailing all the injuries I suffered at the hands of my aunt and uncle just waiting to be delivered to the press?" Dumbledore gave away nothing but silence. "Did I mention the pictures of my back, or the transcripts of the interviews given by myself and my loving relatives while under veritaserum?" No one said a word while the two stared each other down.
"I would suggest," Lord Greengrass, said quietly, "retirement, Albus. Name Minerva as your successor. The board will approve it. Quietly go off into the sunset with what remains of your legacy intact."
"And if I refuse?"
"We will force you out."
"We?"
"We," Lord Greengrass confirmed. Dumbledore said nothing. "You are many things, Albus. But politics is not your strong suit. You have very few friends left. Even Rufus won't help you… To be perfectly honest, having seen the files detailing the injuries to Lord Potter I feel he is being quite generous in his demands."
"Generous?"
"I'm choosing to believe you simply did not check on his situation; that you lied, innocently, when filing those reports. I hate to think what the response would be if it were to come out during the hearings if that were not the case."
"You go, or I go, Sir," Harry said.
Silence held the room for a long few moments before Dumbledore spoke. "You will know my response when it happens." He turned and walked towards the door.
"Sir," Harry called. Dumbledore paused. "You would be remiss to think I've placed all my cards on the table." Dumbledore simply resumed his trek to the door. He opened it and left without a word or even a look back.
"Well," Lord Greengrass said, "not exactly when I was expecting that."
"Sorry, Sir… I just—"
"Don't apologize, Harry. Eventually the tuition must end and the game be entered. That could not have gone better."
Harry held his hand in front of his face. He couldn't stop it shaking. He clinched his hand into a fist and blew out a slow breath. "Thank you, for tutoring me."
Lord Greengrass placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "The House of Greengrass shall always answer your call for aid, Lord Potter." He squeezed his shoulder. "I'll give you a moment with her," he said before walking away.
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Harry sat in his wheelchair beside Ginny's bed with her hand in his. The comforting, tingling sensation between them was about the only thing he had to tell him she was better. It was hard to even look at her, what with the thousands of stings she'd suffered now a pallet of yellows, greens and blues painting her body a picture of one massive bruise.
Positive signs. That's what Mrs Tonks kept telling him. Where scans of Cedric and Viktor's brains were still showing near nothing of healthy brain activity, Ginny's appeared fine. He just wished she'd wake up. Though with her unconscious he didn't have to put on a face or be brave so maybe another day or so for him to get his head back on might be for the best. Selfish bastard, he berated himself. Being in coma wasn't good. She needed to wake. The sooner the better… Before she didn't. Stop it. She's the strongest person you've ever met. She'll wake up if for no other reason than she doesn't know when to quit. Sighing, Harry reached up to brush a dread back from her face. His fingers lingered, tracing a pattern of freckles. She had so many of them it would be impossible to count. She'd once groused, while at the beach house, about them. Complaining that if she had to have different skin than everyone else, why couldn't she have been like his mum and been the mythical tanning red-head instead of pasty white and splattered with orange. He'd told her she made freckles exotic. She'd countered he was an idiot and snogged him senseless. He smiled softly at the memory. That had been a good day.
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Eight days on from the second task, Harry wheeled his chair around the curtains to Cedric's bed. He stopped, not expecting Rowena to have been there. She turned. "Is this a bad time?"
She swiped the tears on her cheek. "No. Come in." Harry wheeled his chair over next to her. He looked at Cedric and she did the same, neither of them speaking for a very long time.
"Anything?" he eventually asked.
"No."
Another long silence settled.
"Ginny?"
"Not yet."
Silence again.
"Viktor?"
Harry shook his head. "No."
Silence.
"Has his family been in today?"
"Later."
Harry nodded, and again, silence.
"I did it wrong," Harry whispered.
She turned to him. "What?"
"I shouldn't have stayed with Ginny. I should have told her what I thought would happen, told her to give me ten minutes to swim back to shore before she freed herself. I could have summoned her then and none of this would have happened."
She stared at him. "Don't be stupid," she said and turned back to Cedric. Harry frowned. He didn't know if she was angry with him or not. Not knowing what to do he just sat there. "I haven't got the strength to save you too, Harry."
"I wasn't—"
"It wasn't your fault, Harry. So don't go down a rabbit hole of blame and self-hate."
"Sorry."
She reached over and took his hand. "You're a good friend, Harry."
Harry stared at her hand on his. She didn't have strength to save him too and then she goes and does anyway. Harry wove his fingers with hers. "So are you, Rowena."
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Bill's head jerked up with the soft moan to come from Ginny. "Ginny?" he gasped. He moved to the bed and grabbed her hand. She whimpered. "Ginny? Can you hear me?" Her head rolled back and forth. "Firefly," he asked. He reached up and touched her cheek. She whimpered and rolled away from him. Tears slid down her cheeks. "Ginny? Can you hear me? What's wrong, Luv."
Andromeda hurried around the curtains – she'd essentially become Madam Pomfrey's assistant over the last week. "She's in pain," she said. She cast a sedation charm on Ginny before grabbing a bottle of pain potion. Bill helped lever Ginny up and they coaxed the potion down her throat. Settling her back in place Andi smoothed the sheets.
"That was good, right?" Bill asked cautiously.
Andi continued with examining Ginny. "I should say so." She brushed Ginny's dreads away from her face. "I should say so."
"She woke up?" Harry asked eagerly. He'd been with Madam Pomfrey, beginning his rehabilitation when Ginny had come out of coma.
"Yes," Mrs Tonks said. "She was quite delirious with pain yet, but she was most definitely awake.
Harry let out a slow breath. "Can I see her?"
"Of course."
Two days after Ginny had kind of sort of come out of coma Harry was finally with her when she woke again. "Fait mal," she whimpered. Harry jerked his head to her.
"Ginny?" Bill asked.
"Fait mal," she whimpered again.
"What?" Bill asked. "Ginny, can you hear me?"
"Fait mal."
"She's in pain," Harry said.
"What?" Bill asked.
"It's French. She's in pain."
"Why the hell is she speaking French?"
"Who cares," Harry said, "get her the pain potion."
"Again?" Madam Pomfrey asked, coming round the curtain.
"Yes," Bill said.
"Easy, Ginny," Harry soothed. "The matron's here."
"Fait mal."
The matron sedated her again and with Bill's help coaxed a vial of pain potion past Ginny's lips. They settled Ginny back in place. "We're getting better," she said.
"That's better?" Bill asked.
"She's coherent enough to verbalize. I should think another day or so and she'll actually be able to be awake for short periods of time.
"Why is she speaking French?" Harry asked.
The matron frowned. "That, I do not know."
Two days later Harry was gently woken by Mrs Tonks. He blinked his eyes open. "Hello, my Love." She bent and kissed his cheek. Harry stretched and sat up.
"Anything?" he asked.
She smiled. "Ginny is sleeping now, but she was awake for about ten minutes in the middle of the night."
"And?" Harry asked.
"Well, she was still fairly out of it. But there was vast improvement over the last time she woke."
"How so?"
"She was able to focus on us and answer a few questions. She did not complain about being in pain, but was glad when pain potion was offered."
Harry considered. "Is she still speaking French?"
"Yes."
"Right," Harry said. He looked down, picking at his blankets. He should be happy, ecstatic even. "Why do I feel like the worst is yet to come?" he whispered.
She reached for Harry's chin, lifting his eyes to hers. "She is awake and despite speaking only French appears to have all her faculties. It will all work out eventually."
Despite Harry's best efforts, Ginny seemed determined to only wake when he was asleep or in a rehab session. Not that he was missing much. She was only awake for five to ten minutes at a time and even then remained mostly incoherent. Still, she was his girlfriend and that he kept missing her, even with his own recovery to manage, ate at him. Which was why, when he woke in his bed instead of his wheelchair beside her bed he remembered being in he was a bit disorientated.
"Good morning, Love," Miss Tonks said.
Harry groaned as he sat up. He had a nasty crick in his neck. "Let me guess," he said, rubbing at it, "I missed her again."
She smiled painfully. "I'm afraid so."
Harry flopped back again. "Fucking hell." She said nothing and eventually he sat up again. "Well, anything more?"
Mrs Tonks blew out a slow breath. "I'm afraid so." Harry's stomach clenched. "Ginny has lost her memory," she said.
"Lost her memory?"
"She does not know who she is or remember how she came to be in hospital. She does not recognize myself, the matron… or even William."
Harry stared at her "A–and me?"
"I do not know."
Harry shuddered. "I just got her back," he gasped.
Mrs Tonks moved to the bed and pulled him into her arms. "You'll get her back, Harry," she soothed. "You'll get her back."
"Remember," Mrs Tonks said, "try not to be upset if she doesn't remember you."
Harry nodded. Thirteen days on from the second task and a full day since he'd learned about Ginny's loss of memory, Harry gathered the courage to face this latest horror. A horror made all the worse as each of his other four friends come out from behind the curtains to shake their head that Ginny's memory had not been jogged on seeing them. Perhaps he should have gone first.
"And speak to her in English," Mrs Tonks added.
Harry took a breath. How could he forget? Ginny now only spoke French. Of course Hermione had found there was an actual name for the phenomenon. Not that he could recall it. Whatever, Ginny didn't know who she was, didn't remember any of her friends, or family, spoke only French and claimed not to know English at all. Though he was told she was picking it up rapidly enough. Given his limited French, he just hoped they'd be able to communicate well enough. Just another day in the horror that was his life.
Luna leaned down by his ear. "Go bring her back," she whispered before kissing his cheek.
Harry frowned slightly. Bring her back, he thought slowly. He turned to Luna.
"Go," she ordered.
Something in him flipped. Right! Ginny – Was – His. So she'd lost her memory. Big deal. She was alive, she was his, and it was time to stop being a coward and go get her back. Determined, he shoved his wheelchair forward.
Ginny turned as soon as he came around the curtain. Brown eyes met green. "Hello," he said.
"You're him," she answered in French, "Harry, the one who saved my life, aren't you?"
Harry nodded. "Yes… Do you recognize me?"
She studied him for a long few minutes before slowly shaking her head. "If it's any consolation, I feel like I should."
"Consolation?"
"Well, I at least feel like I should recognize you. That's more than I can say for the people who are supposedly my brothers."
Harry took a slow breath. "Do you mind if I try holding your hand?"
"Why?"
"To see if it will help you remember."
"Why would that help?"
"Because you once told me holding my hand was the most right thing in the world."
She tipped her head. "I said that?"
"Yes."
She considered another second. "All right then."
Harry wheeled himself over. Instead of reaching for her hand he held his out, palm up for her. She hesitated. "Something wrong?" Harry asked.
"No." She shook her head. "Just, I feel like I've done this before."
"You have."
"I have?"
"A number of times actually. You and I seem to keep coming back to it."
She frowned slightly and he just waited. After another few seconds she cautiously reached out and pressed her palm to his. She jerked back almost instantly. "What was that?" she gasped.
Harry never moved and never took his eyes from hers. "That was us," he said.
"Us?"
"I don't know what it is, or why it happens, it's not always that strong and one time, when we were fighting, it hurt like hell, but it's been there from the day we met." Slowly she reached up and pressed her palm to his again.
A ghost of a smile lit her face. Harry spread his fingers and she wove hers with his. "I like that."
Harry let out a shaky breath. "I'm glad."
She studied him. "Why were we fighting?"
"Because you thought I'd betrayed you, and I thought the same of you."
"Why did I think you'd betrayed me?"
"You've met Hermione, right?"
"She's the black girl, yes?"
"Yes. You saw her kiss me. It was an accident, but you didn't know it. It's a very long story."
"How can a kiss be an accident?"
"I'd just bought Hermione an owl for her birthday. She went to kiss my cheek only I turned at the wrong time and she kissed me on the lips."
Ginny frowned. "Ok, I suppose that could happen. Why would I think you'd betrayed me for that?"
"Because I was your boyfriend."
Ginny blinked. "My boyfriend?"
"Yes."
"Am I your girlfriend now? Is that why you saved my life?"
"I saved your life because I could. As to being my girlfriend, you are, or you were. I'm not exactly sure right now. I only know that it's never been up to me."
"What do you mean it's never been up to you?"
Harry took a slow breath. "I understand this might be a lot for you, but one thing I've never done is hide from you. I have no intention of starting now. You are everything to me, Ginny. I have wanted you from the moment I first saw you. I will always want you. But I will never force you to be something you don't want. And right now, all you know is what I or someone else, tells you. Never mind me, you don't even know who you are." Harry pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. She let out a little gasp. "When you figure that out," Harry said, "if you want me, I'll be here."
She swallowed. "And what if I never remember?"
"The girl you are is too strong, Ginny. You may never remember, but you will always be her. You'll just be different."
"And you'll still be there waiting?"
"Always, Ginny."
She blinked. "You've said that to me before, haven't you?"
"You remember?"
She shook her head. "Yes and no… It's more like an impression or something."
"Like déjà vu?"
"Maybe." She tipped her head, studying him for a long time. "Luna said you would make an impression."
Harry smiled. "She's a very good friend."
"Apparently my best friend, if what Hermione say's is true."
"Her and Daphne."
"How can one person have two best friends?"
"You managed it."
"They weren't jealous?"
"Luna reserves her jealousy for Hermione. Daphne accepts Luna has known you since birth and doesn't feel a need to challenge the bond you have with her."
"Luna reserves her jealousy for Hermione? What does that mean?"
Harry tipped his head. "Hermione and Luna are dating."
"They are?" Ginny blurted.
"Yes."
Ginny blinked a number of times. "Oh, well, all right then."
Harry grinned. "See, whatever the future, the old you is right there."
"What do you mean?"
"You never cared that Hermione and Luna were gay. You simply loved them for who they were."
Ginny frowned. "I did?"
"Yes." Ginny bit her lip and a tear slid down her cheek. "Hey, what's that for?"
"Because I want to remember," Ginny croaked. "You tell me these things and I should know them and I must have cared about all of you, but everything is just blank. And I don't know what I'm feeling or if I even know how to feel or anything. And I want to trust you, but something warns me trusting anyone is very dangerous and I know there's so much people aren't telling me, even you, and you've told me more than anyone so far."
Harry heaved himself up from his chair, sitting down on her bed; he took Ginny's face in his hands and held her. "You can trust me," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "I don't care what anyone tells me about letting you recover your memories on your own or anything else. If you ask me, I will tell you the absolute truth as I know it to be. I will hide nothing from you no matter how painful it might be to myself, you, or anyone else. The second we're both strong enough, I will make an unbreakable vow to this."
She stared back at him. "What's an unbreakable vow?"
"A vow against my magic. If I lie to you, if I don't answer your questions as truthfully as I can, my magic will kill me."
Her eyes widened. "For real?"
"For real."
She bit her lip. "Where are my parents?"
Harry took a slow breath. "Are you sure you want me to answer that?"
"I don't know, do I? Though it must be bad. Why else would you ask that? Why else wouldn't they be here?"
Harry grimaced. "You're right, it is bad." He took another breath. "You're sure?"
Ginny gave a jerky nod. "Tell me."
"Right then, nothing for it but the truth. Your father is dead. You were ten when he was killed. Your mother, it's a very long story, but you've disowned her."
"A tear slid down her cheek. "He's dead?"
"Yes. To the best of my knowledge you adored him. The feeling was mutual."
"And my mother?"
Harry sighed. "Like I said, it's a very long story. For right now, can I just tell you the line between love and hate is very thin and for the time being you've made the decision to cut your mother from your life?"
Ginny watched him for some time before speaking again. "Will you stay here with me?"
"Sorry?"
"I haven't felt safe since I woke up. You make me feel safe… Just hold me?"
"Hold you?"
"You don't have to," Ginny said meekly. "If you don't want."
"No," Harry said quickly. "Believe me, that isn't the case. I just want to be very sure of what you want from me."
She reached for his hand. "Hold me, Harry. Please?"
Harry shifted; pulling her down he wrapped an arm around her waist and spooned behind her. "This okay?"
She nodded and clasped his hand in hers. "Yes." It took all of about two seconds for her to fall asleep.
Harry kissed her crown. "I swear, I'll find you."
Harry had been in with Ginny for half an hour when Bill couldn't take it any longer and poked his head around the curtain. He cocked his head slightly and pulled back. "Well?" Luna asked.
"No clue," he said.
Luna poked her head around the curtain. Hermione, Daphne and Neville followed. "I told you," Luna said, drawing back. " She would know him even if she didn't."
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Author's notes:
So yeah, it seems I just can't stop torturing Ginny.