The Unbreakable Vow 23
by
Ash Darklighter
It all belongs to JK Rowling and I thank her for her inspiration – There are no galleons to be made from me. This little story is my first Harry Potter fic. It is AU and of course comments are welcome. My thanks to Tad and Mona for their help.
"Well?"
Harry jumped as the voice sounded above his head. "You startled me," he said putting down the paint brush and glancing up at his wife.
"I've been calling your name for the past five minutes," Ginny said handing him a cup of tea. "You were miles away. What is it?"
"I've been thinking…"
"Not again," she quipped back at him. "You shouldn't get into that nasty habit. It's flummoxed many a witch or wizard over the centuries."
Harry managed to grin at her. "Witch!" he said fondly. "I needed to think and the shed needed to get painted. I decided to combine the two."
"I am impressed. You must have been thinking," Ginny said mock admiringly as she glanced at the half-painted shed. "Do you need any help?"
"With the thinking or the painting?" he asked.
"Both," she answered pertly.
"Two heads are better than one, so they say." He slanted a wry grin. "What about Jamie?" He peered past her expecting to see his son at her heels. "What have you done with him?"
"I sold him to the fairies for a pile of gold," she retorted.
Harry blinked. "You what?"
"Sold him to the fairies…" she repeated. "He's not earning his keep and I…"
"Ginny," Harry retorted pompously. "I would have thought that your mother would have informed you that the fairies are not to be trusted with financial transactions. That's why we use a goblin bank for our savings. Even I know that and I was Muggle-raised. They spend all their gold on distilled dew and pixie dust."
"Wretch," she muttered. "Actually, he's sound asleep. So I thought I'd come out to see what was occupying you. I didn't expect to find you painting the shed. I thought Muggles did that sort of thing in the spring. But as I'm living the Muggle way…" Ginny picked up another brush and dipped it in the pot of viscous brown liquid. "Did you…er phone the goblins?"
"That's what I was thinking about," Harry said quietly. "I haven't phoned them yet."
She selected an area of the shed and began painting. "You are going to contact them…aren't you?"
"Oh, yes," he answered, his face hardening. "Time has run out for me…well," he shrugged. "Time has run out for us. We need to be magically protected and sooner rather than later. Muggle anonymity isn't enough any more if Voldemort has been resurrected once again. He can find me with ease."
"Your scar," Ginny murmured, as the Knut dropped. "He can feel you through your scar."
"Yes. For the first time in over five years I felt pain in my scar again and that can only mean one thing." He put down his mug and picked up his paintbrush again. "I need help in warding our property and I don't trust…" He stopped painting and looked at her, appealing for her understanding. "Hell, Ginny! I know that you're desperate to see your family and let them know that you're alright but I don't trust certain of our…friends to let us live our lives the way we want to. I'm sure that my magic is almost cured but I would still like more time to be completely certain." He resumed his task, spreading the paint methodically over the timber.
Ginny nodded, her soft lips tightening. The Order of the Phoenix had not helped Ginny escape her arranged marriage to Draco Malfoy. In fact, Albus Dumbledore had insisted that there was nothing he could do and that Ginny still had to marry Draco. Perhaps the headmaster was hoping that marriage to Ginny Weasley might help the poor misguided Death-Eater-in-training to see the error of his ways. Ginny's lip curled in disdain. Malfoy was as set on his path as she and Harry were.
She knew that Harry was uncertain about what exactly the Order would do if the expanded Potter Family showed up together. There was no way she could marry Malfoy now seeing as she already had a son with Harry and another child on the way. She wasn't exactly the pure-blooded virginal bride that the Malfoys would prefer and she liked it that way.
She thought of her son currently sleeping in his cot. No, there was no way she could be taken for the virginal bride these days. Jamie had changed her life in so many ways and there was no way she was returning to her old life and possibly having to hand her child over to the Ministry. It was the kind of stupid thing they would demand that she do.
Then there was her brother, Percy. In a twisted way, she knew that he'd thought that he'd been doing things for her own good. But in reality, he was fooling himself and was treading a very dangerous road by continuing to lobby for political favour from the moneyed, pureblood fraternity at the expense of his relationship with his family. Malfoy and his cronies would never grant Percy the power and authority he so desired.
"We could do this painting thing magically," Ginny commented as a splash of paint made its way down her jumper. "Less mess."
Harry glanced down at the overalls he was wearing. "We could cast a spell and, yes, it would be all done but I used to do this at the Dursley's. I painted the shed there too... and the fence. I quite enjoyed doing it sometimes – and it helps me think."
"Care to enlighten me about your thoughts and why you are delaying in phoning the goblins?" Ginny asked casually.
"I'm not delaying things exactly. We can't afford to do that. I was considering our options. I think we need some extra wizarding help, Mrs Potter." Harry's green eyes gleamed behind his glasses. "Some familial help."
Ginny's face lit up. "Double or single?"
Harry chuckled. "That's what I can't quite decide. That and the risk of discovery once I go ahead. Our peaceful world will be shattered one way or another. In fact, it's already changing. As soon as those spells were cast, the countdown started."
"They've never given up on us, have they?" Ginny's voice was quiet.
"No, I don't consider that they have. We're too important."
"Do they think that we're still alive?" Ginny asked.
"You said it yourself, Ginny-love. They won't have given up on us and I'm talking about our real family - the ones that truly love us. They have our best wishes at heart. You said your mother understood even if she wouldn't remember what you said to her."
"She did understand," admitted Ginny. "I felt so awful having to leave her there in the hospital. I didn't want to lie to her. I said that I was leaving for a short time – just until things had blown over."
"No one could protect us against those out to cause us harm. Our enemies might even think that we're dead. They won't believe that we've been able to remain in hiding for over five years." Harry's lip curled. "Snape thought I was addicted to my fame and sought publicity. I'm not noted for my attempts at staying out of the public eye and off the pages of the Daily Prophet but I've never actively sought my fame."
"No." She grinned and then sobered. "Pettigrew managed to stay hidden for fourteen years."
"True. But he could only do it as a rat. Hardly the best example of a normal life." Her face turned to Harry's. "We've made a good life for ourselves here."
"We have, Ginny-love, but we should be able to make our life where we choose. You're a witch and I'm a wizard but our true lives have been taken from us."
"Yes, but we're still happy. We're not sitting crying into our cauldrons every night. We're still managing to live," Ginny said passionately as she slapped a very full paint brush against the shed.
There was silence for quite some time after that as Ginny and Harry gradually worked on the task together.
"Have you thought long enough?" she asked eventually, assessing how much was still left to do. "You can stay out here and paint all night if you want to. But it's getting dark as well as cold and if I don't awaken Jamie soon, we'll never get him to go to sleep tonight."
"What about you?" Harry asked carefully. "Will you sleep tonight?"
"I will if you hold me," she answered. "Everything is better when you're with me. The nightmares aren't so terrifying."
"I feel the same," he admitted. "You're a part of me, Ginny, and I'll never let you go. I can't. You, Jamie and the new blob."
Ginny's mouth quirked up at one side. "You just had to call him that."
"I did, didn't I?" Harry placed the lid back on the tub of paint and began gathering up the brushes and the rest of the paraphernalia they had used. "Ginny…" He hesitated but took a deep breath and continued on. "I think I should go back on my own first of all. Just a quick visit to see the lie of the land. You're pregnant and, yes, I know you're not ill." He sighed. "I would rather you just exercised a bit of caution for now."
"That's good coming from you," she retorted but Harry could tell that she agreed with him by the lack of heat in her tone. "'Exercise a bit of caution' - Merlin's hairy balls," she huffed under her breath.
"Ginny-love, we've not had a whole lot of spell-casting over the past five years," he reproved softly. "We both must be rusty and our reactions in a fight would not be up to Death Eater speeds. I don't want to risk you or the baby. You mean far too much to me. You know that I struggle with the mushy stuff – showing my feelings - but never doubt that I love you," he said tenderly.
"I know." Ginny's smile could have lit of the whole of Muggle London. He was still an overprotective prat but he was all hers.
"Go inside and wake up Jamie and I'll clear up out here."
"If you're sure…" Ginny's head lifted as a faint wail could be heard coming from the house. "He gets his timing from you."
"Nah, I'm usually late. He's right on time." Harry looked proud.
Ginny rolled her eyes as the wail got louder. "I'd better go. He's definitely awake and protesting. I don't want any magical temper tantrums because he's stuck in his cot."
"Good idea." He glanced at the almost finished shed and, for the first time since he'd regained his magic, considered using a spell to benefit himself. Saving Snape's life with the creation of the portkey didn't count. His magic was back - as powerful as ever - and he had to believe it. With a flick of his wrist the painting of the entire shed was completed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The Burrow
"Hello!" the voice called anxiously, head bobbing about amidst the green flames. "Mrs Weasley!"
Molly looked up from her knitting and glanced at the strange face in her fireplace. The wizard whose head was floating in the middle of the flames had to have been given access to their Floo by one of the family or an Order member as she didn't recognise him. The Burrow was still a restricted address to all but a select few. "Good evening," she murmured politely, wondering if she should have kept her wand closer.
"I'm looking for Bill…"
Molly's face lit up in a warm smile. "Do come through. They're all still eating but I wanted to finish this jumper for him before he and Fleur returned home." She held up her knitting. "Are you hungry? I'm sure we still have plenty left over. I'll get you a plate."
"So, he's still here? That's good. I did try to reach him at Shell Cottage but then I couldn't get through and finally I remembered that he'd said he was going to his mother's for supper. I'm Pavel Windrush, Mrs Weasley. I work with your son in the human warding and curse-breaking team at Gringotts. I'm sorry I don't have time to come through but he's urgently needed for something at work."
Molly nodded her understanding, her smile bittersweet. "Don't worry, I understand. When my husband was alive, he was often called into the Ministry to deal with some crisis or other. He was the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department. Are you sure that you don't want something to eat?"
The young man smiled. "Bill's told me a lot about your wonderful cooking so I'm sorry to have to turn down your offer."
"Excuse me for a moment," Molly murmured and headed through to the kitchen. Seated around the huge wooden table sat the remaining members of Molly's family. At the end of the table were four set places left vacant at every family gathering. These were for Arthur, her beloved husband, who had died in the attack by Voldemort which had almost cost Molly her life, Percy, still estranged from his family and Harry and Ginny. Arthur would never return home again but Molly still hoped for the return of the other three. It was one of the things that kept her going. Arthur would not want her to give up and fade away.
"Bill," she called above the chatter. "Floo call for you.
Her oldest son pushed back his chair and uncoiled his lanky body into an upright position. "Who is it?"
"Someone called Pavel Windrush and he seems like a nice young man. It's something to do with Gringotts."
"Pav!" Bill glanced the young woman sitting next to him. "You've met him, Fleur. He couldn't come to the wedding because he was away on business. He's the human warding specialist and now that I think about it, I was going to get him to check over the wards at The Burrow and Shell Cottage."
Fleur pursed her lips thoughtfully. "It would be good to have things checked over."
"Anyway," Bill said, "it sounds like I have to go into work."
His beautiful French wife shrugged, her pale hair shimmering as she moved. "Do you need me to come with you?" she asked, her soft voice lightly accented.
Bill looked at his mother. "They just asked for you," Molly said.
"Then I don't think that they need you tonight, Fleur." He dropped a kiss on her cheek. "I'll call you if you're required." Bill pulled his wand from his pocket. "Maybe you could stay here with Mum, rather than going home alone."
"The beds are made up. You should stay," Molly insisted.
"I would be happier if you did," Bill said gently.
Fleur considered the request and then nodded. "Then I will stay…unless you are home very quickly?"
Bill smiled at his beautiful flower, his eyes dipping to rest on her still flat stomach. They'd planned to announce Fleur's pregnancy to the family after supper but their news would keep for another night. "Stay here tonight, Cherie," he urged. "If I'm not needed at work for long I'll come back here and collect you."
His wife's silvery head nodded and, reassured, he waved his wand at the pile of assorted outdoor garments thrown over a chair in the corner of the living room. "Accio cloak!"
A moment later Bill Weasley walked through the human employee's Floo at Gringotts and entered the office he shared with a number of other wizards. But at this time of night there was only one wizard occupying the room, his curly black head bent over a yellowing parchment.
"Good to see you working for your galleons, Pav," Bill called out in greeting.
"Bill!" Pavel got to his feet. "That was quick. Sorry to interrupt your family time but you're required for a job."
Bill greeted his friend with a smile and handed him a sealed container. "I thought it might be something like that. My mother sent you a piece of her treacle tart."
"Fantastic. I'm starving!" Pavel declared, immediately dispensing with the preservation charm on the container with a flick of his wand. "I don't think you've been called in since you got married to the beauteous Fleur."
Bill couldn't remember the last time that he'd been called to the bank after hours – it had been a while ago. Since he'd married, the goblins were less likely to use him after hours, so this had to be important. The goblins considered time with family to be sacred. He would have the inconvenience but he would be paid handsomely for his trouble.
"Your instructions are on your desk," Pavel pointed at a stiff piece of cream parchment. "I don't envy you going out tonight. It's pretty cold."
"I can use a warming charm," Bill retorted. "I'm a wizard of no mean skill."
"With a large head," quipped Pavel.
"And a healthy sense of self preservation."
"Something we all need," Pavel said. "Have you heard the latest rumours?"
"Of course," Bill replied. "I make a point of keeping up with anything that might hint at the whereabouts of You-know-who and the Death Eaters."
Since his father had been killed and Harry and Ginny had disappeared, Bill was conscious of the delicate nature of life and his once easy-going nature had vanished. He and Fleur had both joined the Order of the Phoenix and they'd all heard the whispered rumours of a strange darkness coming from Eastern Europe. It was just like the last time and probably the time before - and with Fleur pregnant with their first child, he worried like any new father-to-be about the future. None of them thought that You-know-who had gone for good. "Do you know what this is about?" He waved the piece of parchment in the air.
"I don't actually," the other wizard answered around a mouthful of Molly's treacle tart. "They wouldn't tell me anything apart from the fact that you were needed to help adding some wards to a property. It's a bit strange but nothing surprises me any more. You've to go and see Griphook."
Bill paused in the act of hanging his cloak on a hook on the wall, looking over his shoulder at his colleague. "Griphook?" He queried. "The Griphook?"
Pavel opened a drawer in his desk and scrabbled around for a decent quill. "Yes. What other Griphook is there? I originally thought it was a curse-breaking thing that they wanted you for."
"That would make a lot of sense since that's what I'm employed to do but I don't get to deal with the senior account managers normally."
Pavel's mouth opened and shut a couple of times. "So why do they want you?" he finally wondered aloud. "No offence, pal, but if it's a warding job…?"
"Yes, I see what you mean." Bill's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Why would an account manager be interested in a warding job and want to involve a curse breaker?" He glanced at his friend thoughtfully. "Wouldn't they be better asking you? That's your department."
"It's you they want." Pavel shrugged and began consulting the books and parchments piled on his desk. "They were quite insistent and you know the goblins. You don't argue too much or you can find yourself other employment."
Bill nodded. "True. I did help my father with some of the wards around The Burrow but to be honest, I'm more used to breaking through wards than setting them up."
"Perhaps that's why the goblins have asked for you. Maybe they feel that you should have more experience of setting wards and that it would help with getting through them unscathed." Pavel took a final bite of the treacle tart and closed his eyes, a beatific smile appearing on his face. "Tell your mother this is superb."
Bill chuckled. "I will." A shadow momentarily crossed his face. It was the first time she'd made the dessert in a long time. She'd always made it for Harry when he'd come to stay at The Burrow because it was one of his favourites. He pushed away the memories of Harry and, of course, Ginny. He had work to do.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Bill was shown into Account-Manager Griphook's office by a goblin he didn't know. "You wanted to see me," he said in carefully pronounced Gobbledygook. He wasn't fluent in the language by any means but knew enough to get by. His employers were pleased that he at least made the effort.
"Mr. Weasley."
"Sir," Bill said, with a polite bow of his head.
"You are to proceed to the portkey area to meet with the goblin warding team. You will be taking part…"
"But I'm a curse breaker, not a warding expert!" Bill exclaimed, reverting back to English. He'd almost begun to think that his friend was winding him up. "Pavel Windrush is the senior wizard in that particular field."
"That's as may be, Mr. Weasley, but it is you we need. We will explain when we get there. I suggest you wrap up warmly. It is cold outside."
Bill still couldn't say that he understood his presence on this assignment. However, it wasn't a good idea to say no to those who had authority over him and he bowed his head once more, the fang earring swinging. He would wait. Suddenly, he got the feeling that this was one of the most important things that he had ever done while working for Gringotts.
The goblin moved from behind his desk and indicated for Bill to precede him from the office. "Time is running short. We must be on our way. Collect your things quickly."
Bill shrugged and grabbed his cloak as he returned to his work area. He glanced over at Pavel and shook his head. "For some reason they're determined that I go and they're not saying why."
"It will do you good to branch out," murmured Pavel. "You'll find it interesting. You may want to think about warding your own property one day."
"Oh, it is warded," Bill said. "Quite heavily, too, but not by me. I wondered if you could check the wards over for me someday soon?"
"Sure."
Bill smiled in thanks, pulled his cloak across his shoulders and headed to collect his portkey.
"On three, Mr Weasley," a goblin said, holding out an unripe banana.
Bill placed his finger reluctantly on the piece of fruit, noting that there were several other goblins doing something similar.
"One, two…three."
After the usual feeling of being sucked through a narrow tube, they were deposited in the middle of a road with trees on either side. "This way," said one of the goblins. Bill noticed immediately that he was the only wizard present and that it was cold, pitch-dark and he had absolutely no idea where he was.
They walked for about five minutes until they reached a set of large metal gates which parted with a wave of the lead goblin's spindly, long-fingered hand.
"This is the edge of the property," he said in a nasal voice. "Slathook and Dagbone stay and work on the charms needed here. "Weasley, Cutflick, follow me."
They set off at a brisk pace up a long, tree-lined rutted drive. Bill managed to keep his legs moving at the necessary pace so that he wouldn't outstrip the goblins with his longer legs but he was conscious of their haste.
"Nearly there," said Griphook with satisfaction. "Never thought that he could live without magic for all this time but he did."
"Who did?" Bill asked stupidly.
"We cannot say the name of our client without his permission. He's protected by the goblin nation," replied Griphook shortly.
"He is?"
Bill wondered why such an important goblin would live in an area like this, without magic and away from his own kind and why was it that he, Bill Weasley, needed to perform warding charms?
The drive suddenly opened out and a cottage sat framed within the trees. Outside lights had come on automatically at their approach and he could see that, although it was an old building, it had been beautifully restored.
Bill frowned and pulled out his wand flicking it in a series of intricate moves. His frown deepened as he flicked his wand again. Something was missing and he knew what it was. This was not a goblin residence. It wasn't even a wizarding house; it was a Muggle home and quite a nice spacious one at that. He could see two cars parked to the side next to a separate garage. Whoever owned this property must have wealth tied up in Gringotts. Indeed, Bill could only guess that this home belonged to an important Muggle-born client.
But he had no idea how important.
If they were dealing with a Muggle-born, why couldn't he sense any magic in the air at all? Something about the whole situation bothered the red-headed wizard. Things just didn't add up.
Suddenly, the door opened and the figure of a young man was framed in its lighted warmth. Griphook moved forward and grasped the hand of the man shaking it in a Muggle fashion. Then they exchanged polite bows in the manner of the goblins. Something was murmured from one to the other and the goblin and the man chuckled. It was then that the goblin turned to face Bill, his teeth bared in an expression of goblin amusement. He was going to enjoy this.
"Mr. Weasley, this is our client. No one is to know who he is or where he is. The goblins have sworn to protect him and his clan. Once we have finished the warding, you will not be able to speak of him unless he gives his permission."
The young man stepped forward and for the first time Bill could see him fully. "Hello Bill," Harry Potter said calmly, pushing his spectacles firmly against his nose.
Bill gasped. There was nothing else that he could do. His brain felt sluggish - unable to comprehend what he was actually seeing as all his preconceived theories vanished. "H…Harry?"
Unsure for an instant whether to punch him or embrace him, Bill lunged forwards, his arms going around the younger man in a sort of desperate hug before stepping back a pace, his fingers digging painfully into Harry's shoulders. "Where have you been? We've all been worried sick. The Order has been searching for you ever since you vanished. Why, Harry, Why?" He almost howled the last sentence at the younger man.
Harry lifted his hand and patted Bill's before moving away. "I had no choice. I'm sorry, I can't explain now but I will and soon." He dug into his pocket and handed Bill a small vial of a red liquid and a carved silver dagger with a wicked-looking blade. "You'll need it for the warding."
Bill gazed at the tiny container in disbelief. "Your blood?"
"My blood and my lifeblood." He smiled softly. "My heart."
Bill didn't quite understand that. "It's a blood warding?"
"They are more effective," said Griphook joining the conversation. "It is far more difficult to break blood wards."
"I wanted to ask for a favour, Bill," said Harry quietly. "That's one of the reasons that I asked for you to be present. The Weasley Family have been like my own since Ron and I first met on the train to Hogwarts. Could you add a drop of your blood to the mix? You do know that Voldemort took some of mine in fourth year. I need to protect…"
Harry glanced behind him and Bill was surprised to see the figure of a woman with a cloud of long dark hair pass one of the lighted windows. "I have people that I need to protect."
Bill nodded wondering who the woman was, thoughts of Ginny uppermost in his mind. "Of course, Harry. You're part of my family as far as I'm concerned."
"I'd hoped you would say that," Harry murmured, relief visible on his face. "It also means that it will be easier for the Weasley Family to pass through the wards once I emerge from my hiding place."
Bill opened his mouth to ask if Ginny was with him.
"We'd better get on, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter," Griphook said firmly, moving to stand beside them. "It's getting late and we don't want to tempt fate, do we?"
Harry shook his head. "No. He dug into his pocket again and produced a piece of paper. "I would like to talk to you again," he said. "But I don't want Dumbledore, the Order or the Ministry to know where I am."
"They're still watching us," Bill admitted.
"I guessed as much. I'm too important because of that damned prophecy but at the moment I do not trust them." Harry's expression was cold and determined. "They seem to think that I'm a child who doesn't know his own mind. I'm quite familiar with its contents. Tell Gred and Forge to switch on their mirror and to make sure that they're alone tomorrow evening when they do. I suggest around about half-past six. I'll have finished work by then."
"Mirror?" Bill asked.
"It's something that Sirius gave me – a set of two-way mirrors that you can speak into. Sirius and my father used them to contact one another during detentions. The one the twin's have can only receive messages. I…damaged it."
Bill could see Harry's face stiffen as he added the last part of his sentence. "Could I join them?" he enquired. "It would save you giving the explanation more times than necessary."
"Of course," Harry agreed. "I want to set up a meeting as soon as possible. I'm going to need you guys more than ever. But now is not the time for our discussion."
Bill grinned. "Thank you."
"Then I'll talk to you again tomorrow." Harry glanced back at the house before looking enquiringly at Griphook. "Do you need me to stay while you perform the charm?"
Bill held up the vial of Harry's blood and Griphook's lips bared, revealing pointed teeth in what Harry supposed was an approving smile.
"No, we have your blood. Your essence is around the property because you own it and live here. We don't need anything else for the moment. We'll call you back at the appropriate time."
Harry nodded and bowed politely at Griphook before disappearing back inside the house.
"Well, lad…" Griphook said pointing at the dagger Bill clutched gingerly between his fingers. "A couple of drops of your blood should do the trick and then we must protect the innocent inside."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Just over three hours later, Griphook's teeth bared in satisfaction as he wrestled with the streams of magic surrounding the Potter property. "It is time for you to go, Mr. Weasley," he shouted above the sounds of crackling and popping spells.
"What!" Bill was controlling a stream of golden magic or he had been. His wand arm was beginning to wilt under the strain.
"You have done all you can," the goblin said approvingly.
"I'll take over from here," a voice said.
"H…Harry?" Bill panted, suddenly realising how tired he was.
The younger wizard had his wand outstretched, ready to take over. "This is my home and I have to take over the final part of the ritual. Thanks, Bill. You've done more than you know."
"You can let go, Mr. Weasley," instructed Griphook. "Your portkey has been activated. You may leave at any time during the next minute and a half." He nodded towards a shell-shocked looking goblin. "Cutflick will accompany you back to Gringotts. From there I suggest that you go straight home."
Bill gave a tired nod, grabbed the disc hanging around his neck and disappeared. Seconds later he and Cutflick were in the employee arrival hall at Gringotts. A few minutes after that, Bill stumbled from the entrance hall fireplace at Shell Cottage and collapsed in front of his wife.
"Bill!" Fleur breathed in horror as his legs buckled and he sank down onto his knees, too weak to walk any further.
"I'm okay, Fleur. Just a little tired," he whispered. "In fact, I've never been so tired. Never…" His voice tailed away and his eyes began to close.
"Bill," Fleur said sharply as her husband's body began to complete the descent his legs had started. "You have to move."
"Can't…" It was almost a groan of pure pain. Merlin's balls, he hurt. Every single damn bone in his body ached.
His wife chuckled despite her concern. "Of course you can. You'll stiffen up even more in that position," she said pointedly, her gaze narrowing on the way his long limbs sprawled uncomfortably over the floor. "Come on, Bill," she entreated huskily. "You'll thank me for it in the morning. I need you to drink this."
"What?" He could only seem to manage one word at a time. His beautiful Fleur, he suddenly noticed through his bleary half-shut eyes, was holding a mug of a steaming liquid.
"Pepper-up," she announced. "The goblins said that you would need it. You are to have the next two days off and rest. They sent me a supply of goblin strength replenishing potions too. You are to take these three times a day after meals. I do not envy you this. They smell terrible."
"Th…thanks," he muttered, grabbing the mug and throwing the contents down his throat. Wincing as the smoke poured out of his ears, Bill sat up. "Wait a minute," he said, the potion beginning to do its work. "How did you know that I would be so drained when I came home?"
Fleur chuckled again, her voice low and warm. "The goblins contacted us at your mother's as soon as you had left and told me." Her English had improved tremendously since the Tri-wizard tournament but she still pronounced words beginning with the letters 'th' with care.
"Told you?"
"They did not tell me very much. Something to do with client confidentiality." She smirked at him. "I was given the same two days off as you to make sure that you did rest. The Weasley men are stubborn and you are the most stubborn of all, no?"
"Oh!" Bill just didn't have the strength to argue with a determined witch with Veela blood in her veins.
She pulled him to his feet, watching with concern as he began to slowly climb the stairs. "I have run you a bath, Cherie. Go and soak and I will bring you up a medicinal firewhisky."
Bill looked down at her. She really was beautiful but to him she was more than just a beautiful woman. Fleur had fallen in love with him because he didn't treat her like most men treated Veelas. Bill loved Fleur for who she was, not what she was. Most witches would have brought their wizards a cup of tea. Fleur brought him a firewhisky.
By the time he reached the bathroom, he had sunk back onto his knees.
"Oh, Bill." Fleur stood at the bathroom door, his firewhisky clutched in her hand. "Here, let me help you. That must have been one impressive set of wards you were helping to erect." She placed the whisky next to the bath and began easing one arm from his shirt.
"I wasn't sure why they wanted me to do it," he admitted, just letting her pull off his dragonhide work boots. "Or rather, I wasn't."
"But you know now?"
"I think so."
Fleur's hands went to his belt buckle and started removing his trousers.
"Hey!" he protested and then smirked.
"Don't even think about it. You're too tired for that tonight." She stripped him carefully of the rest of his clothes.
"And you call yourself French, Cherie?" He lowered himself in the bath with a blissful smile.
Fleur winked at him. "When your stamina has returned, Monsieur Weasley, I will show you how French I am."
"I'm looking forward to it already," he managed to quip tiredly.
"You do that," she muttered. "How much can you tell me?" she asked as she picked up a washcloth and began trailing it over his strong shoulders.
"Very little but, oh Fleur, it was such a unique experience. The wards were so intricate – beautifully linked to the individual and the house he loves. I even saw them for a moment. All I can say as a description was that they were shining strings of pure magic."
"Like rain on a spider's web," whispered Fleur. "I once took part in a personal warding when I was a child. It was the new home of my maternal grandmother."
"The one whose hair is in your wand?" Bill asked. "The Veela?"
"Yes. We all took part though Gabrielle was not yet born. I do remember my father was in his bed for a week afterwards. Was this a Fidelius?"
"Yes. But an older variation of the charm that I'd never heard of before. It's old magic…deeper and more powerful."
"And the goblins granted this to a wizard?" Fleur was impressed. She'd worked for Gringotts since leaving school and had never been awarded any courtesies like this.
"He is under goblin protection. I couldn't tell you any more about him even if I wanted to. Maybe one day…"
"Aah, that will be why they did it. It's another experience to add to those you have already gained." She leant forward and kissed him. "I'll go and make you something to eat." She flicked her wand and cast a swift warming charm on the water. "I expect you'll be hungry about now. Your mother sent a care parcel."
"Wonderful." Bill's blue eyes followed his wife's retreating figure and he settled back to enjoy his solitude. He had a number of things to ponder. He couldn't tell Fleur about seeing Harry yet. The spell he'd helped the goblins perform prevented him.
Harry had looked good - better than the last time he'd seen him. He couldn't quite believe that it had been over five years since Harry had disappeared. He'd been dressed in muggle clothing, the trademark spectacles in place, although the ever-present anxiety that lurked in Harry's eyes was still present. Bill noted the habit Harry had of nervously pushing the glasses firmly back up his nose, the gold of his wedding ring glinting in the security lights.
Bill sat up, his heart pounding, water sloshing over the side of the bath onto the floor. It was his left hand. Harry was wearing a wedding ring! Harry was married!
He recalled the figure of the dark-haired woman moving in front of the window for a second. He'd not really given her any thought. If pressed, he might even have considered that it could be a housemate. But a wife! Harry was too young to be married; he was just out of school…
His brain slowed down. No, Harry was old enough. He was about twenty-three now…same age as Ron. Plenty of wizards married young. Bill hadn't himself but then he'd moved to Egypt for Gringotts and seen a bit of the world first. And of course, he hadn't met the right witch – he hadn't met Fleur. But it was more than likely, given that Harry had been hiding in the Muggle world since his disappearance, that he had a Muggle wife. One who'd be unable to protect herself against wizards.
And what about Ginny! The family and most of the Order assumed that Harry and Ginny had run away together to protect her from the Malfoys. But Dumbledore had admitted that there were other issues involved, not just the betrothal contract. Hermione had said that the headmaster had wanted Harry to return to the home of his Muggle relatives - something Harry was very reluctant to do.
For the first time Bill had to consider that Ginny might not be with Harry and he couldn't even say anything about it. He couldn't talk about Harry unless the younger man gave him leave to do so. If she wasn't with Harry, what had happened to his little sister?
She would be without her magic by now, if the contract the Malfoys had enforced upon her ran true to form. Ginny had no experience of Muggle life and would certainly have been found if she'd continued to live as a witch. Once her magic drained away, Ginny would be powerless and completely vulnerable.
Bill swallowed, feeling sick. He would just have to demand the information from the-boy-who-lived tomorrow. He couldn't just turn up at Harry's newly warded home. He had no idea where it was.
Bill took a large swallow of his firewhisky, cataloguing the things in his mind that could lead him to Harry and came to the conclusion that Harry was probably somewhere in Scotland. It had been cold last night, but even colder at Harry's location. The trees around the property consisted of birches, rowans and pines. 'Somewhere in Scotland' didn't help him much.
The bathroom door opened and a towel floated in followed by his sleep-pants. Bill took that as a hint to get out of the bath. He was going to get answers from Harry tomorrow if he had to Bat-Bogey Hex him to do so. However, first, he needed to fire-call the twins.
Wearily, he grabbed his dressing gown off the back of the bathroom door and padded back down the stairs. Moving into the study, he grabbed some Floo powder from a pot on the shelf.
"Gred…Forge!" he hissed through the green flames.
"Bill?" Two voices answered in unison. "What could have you calling us this late in the evening after unexpected overtime at work?"
"I have a message for you," Bill said quietly. "From an old friend."
"An old friend," echoed Fred slowly.
"Is it a message that we want to hear?" asked George, his face uncharacteristically serious.
"I think so," murmured Bill. "This is because of my work this evening…"
"Where you bumped into…" George interrupted.
"This old friend," finished Fred.
"Yes. I was going to come to you tomorrow but I wondered if you could bring your mirror to Shell Cottage instead."
"What mirror?" Fred had gone very still.
"I was told by this 'old friend' that you had, in your possession, one-half of a rare set of two-way mirrors."
"How do you…?" Fred and George's faces had gone so pale that their freckles stood out. "H…Ha…"
"Don't say it," Bill commanded sharply. "In fact, don't even think about it. Could you come to me and be ready to switch on your mirror at six-thirty precisely."
"Is this true?" demanded Fred.
"I didn't know you had a mirror," Bill answered. "I'm just relaying the message.
"We'll be there," the twins promised shakily.
"I'd tell you more if I could but I can't," Bill confessed tiredly. "Look, guys, it's been a very long evening and I don't want to face the wrath of my wife if I don't get some rest."
"Tomorrow then," said the twins and cut the connection. Bill was left staring into the flames.
xxxxxxxxxx
Harry almost staggered back into the house once the crackling streams of magic had gone. It had felt similar to when he was battling Voldemort in the graveyard during the Tri-wizard tournament except that the goblins were at least trying to help him and not kill him. He hoped that he hadn't destroyed his magic again. He didn't think that he could survive being in exile for another five years - not when he could sense his returning power so strongly. He'd actually felt a difference in himself. He could and would return to the magical world he loved.
"Harry?" Ginny stood at the study door, a book clasped in her hands. Harry thought it might have been one of the magical treatises from Babble's Books.
"I managed to cope with the power of those spells during the warding," Harry observed carefully. "So, my magic is working," he said, swaying where he stood. "But I think I may have killed it."
Her brown eyes widened with worry. "You completed the warding," she said.
"Yes."
She took in his exhausted face. "It's very strong magic and I think you should be tired."
"Yes, but Ginny, I've been unable to do any magic for over five years. I don't want to be like that forever. It's been hard enough as it is."
"Well, you made up for it tonight." She moved forward and dragged him into the study. "Sit," she ordered him into a red leather armchair. A minute later she was back with a couple of small glass vials. "I've been saving these for an emergency. They're still good."
"Poppy's?" Harry flipped the lid of each and threw the contents down his throat, shuddering as a blast of steam poured out of his ears. "Thanks," he muttered as the colour began returning to his face.
"I just think that you need to rest. You've done strong magic tonight when you're not used to it. You're bound to feel drained."
"Do you think so?" Harry asked, a mix of hope and desperation clear on his face.
"I just think that you need to rest. You've done strong magic tonight when you're not used to it. You're bound to feel drained."
"Do you think so?" Harry asked a mix of hope and desperation clear on his face.
"Oh, sweetheart," Ginny murmured. "Of course, I do."
Harry sighed with relief, his head tipping back against the high back of the chair.
"Well?" Ginny folded her arms and began tapping her foot. "Apart from you looking as if you've survived several rounds with a Death Eater, how did it go?"
"It's done." He smiled and patted his knee. Ginny curled herself into his lap, her head on his shoulder. "They brought Bill with them. He still has the dragon tooth earring and the pony-tail."
"Bill," she whispered, her lips trembling. "Did you know?"
"Yes. I asked for him. He added some of his blood to strengthen the wards."
"He did? Harry, why didn't you tell me?"
He hung his head. "I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to but I didn't think it was the right time. I didn't want your first meeting with your family to be with the goblins in attendance."
"Oh."
He could see that she was thinking about what he had said. "I'm contacting the Twins tomorrow to set up a meeting. Bill wants to be there. I'm sure he was going to ask if I knew where you were but Griphook interrupted us and we had to start the ritual."
Ginny pushed herself further against him. "Thank you," she whispered.
"We need to make some decisions before we talk to them."
"What sort of decisions?"
"Jamie, for one. Do we tell them about him yet?"
"Jamie," she echoed. "I don't know. They would love him."
"Of course they would love him. Molly will adore him and spoil him within an inch of his life."
She tilted her head to look at Harry's face. "What do you think?"
"I don't want to say anything yet," he admitted carefully. "He's safer that way. After all, he's not on the Hogwarts Attendance list or the Ministry Registry of Births. Poppy's the only magical being that knows he exists."
"Then we don't tell them yet," she said. "I don't want M…Malfoy finding out about him. What are your plans?"
"I'm contacting Bill and the twins by mirror tomorrow evening after work. Yes, I'm going into work tomorrow," he said with a grin. "Then I wondered if we could invite them here?"
"But we don't want to tell them about Jamie yet. There are traces of him everywhere. Photographs, his toys, books and clothes…"
"Yes, we're a bit like Vernon and Petunia with regards to our son. Although he doesn't resemble a baby whale or a pig in a wig."
Ginny chuckled. "No, he looks like a Potter."
"He's got your nose."
"And that's supposed to make me grateful?" Ginny got to her feet and held out her hand. "We could meet them in town. It's neutral territory and if things worked out okay then we could let them know about Jamie."
"Yes, part of me is tempted to do that but it's the first time you've seen your family in years and the reunion might be better if it's private."
"Then have them come here. We could leave Jamie with Caroline or Helen and remove any photographs…"
"Do you realise how long that would take?" Harry straightened an askew frame as they climbed the stairs together and pushed open their son's bedroom door.
Ginny brushed back a lock of black hair on the small forehead. "So much energy during the day and now so peaceful."
Harry leaned over the cot and dropped a kiss on the baby's cheek. "I like him peaceful."
"We could cast an Obscuro charm," Ginny suggested she exited Jamie's room "It should turn the pictures blurry and if we keep the conservatory door closed, they wouldn't see his toys."
"That would work," Harry murmured, stifled a yawn and headed into the bathroom. A few moments later he exited and finished getting ready for bed.
"I would like to see Bill and the twins but I would love to see my mother more," Ginny confessed quietly as she lay in Harry's arms. "Suppose they hate me…hate us...because we left them?"
"Your family love you, Gin. I wouldn't be surprised if there are five Weasley jumpers waiting for us both at The Burrow. They were distraught when they couldn't break the contract."
"You broke it, Harry."
"No, between us we created something precious and more powerful that couldn't be broken."
"And Jamie."
"Yes, we created him alright. And the new blob."
"Orion," Ginny said. "I told you."
17