CHAPTER 18 – ST. MUNGO'S

Harry closed his eyes as tightly as he could, knowing that the flashes of uncounted kitchens and living rooms would probably be more than his shaken psyche could endure. The fear was simply too much for him to take and so much worse than anything he had ever faced before – his lonely march to face death in the Forbidden Forest and the final showdown with Voldemort included. Ginny meant everything to him and Harry couldn't even begin to contemplate the possibility of losing her, especially not on their wedding day. He clung fiercely to Madam Pomfrey's statement indicating that Ginny should survive her injuries and closed his thoughts to anything negative.

He forced himself to think instead about St. Mungo's, wondering momentarily where he might emerge from the Floo Network, and concluded that the entryway must be through the fireplace in the Visitor's Tearoom, which was located on the fifth floor near the Hospital Shop. He squeezed his eyelids tightly shut in fear of becoming so disoriented that he might be unable to recognize the proper exit, and only when he calculated that he should be approaching the magical hospital did he dare open them. Despite this precaution, he was so dizzy upon arrival that he fell flat on his face the very moment he stepped out into a rarely used alcove through which St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was connected to the Floo Network.

The Trainee Healer for Magical Triage leapt to her feet, intending to offer assistance to the wizard who had stumbled into her normally quiet territory. However, she froze in her footsteps, transfixed by the sight of the legendary lightning-bolt scar that came into view when Harry lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"Mr. … Mr. P … P … Potter!" she stammered in confusion. "Are you injured? How may I help you?"

"My wife … Ginny Weasley. I mean, Ginny Potter. Do you know where they've put her?" replied an equally shaken Harry.

"No, but I'll help you find her right away," answered the Trainee as she took Harry by the arm and led him quickly around a corner and through the main hallway toward the hospital's registration desk.

Their journey was interrupted almost immediately, for as soon as they turned the corner, Harry ran headlong into Minerva McGonagall.

"Come with me, Harry," she said softly, taking him by the hand. "They've called Hippocrates Smethwyck down from the Dai Llewellyn Ward, and he's already with Ginny in one of the examination rooms. She really couldn't be in better hands."

*****

Ginny sensed more than felt the moment when Bill had arrived at St. Mungo's with the soft pop of Apparition, but the harder she tried to return to normal consciousness, the more deeply she seemed to slip away from the present moment. She focused all her efforts and heard something that sounded remotely like English being spoken, although it seemed as is if the words were coming from miles away. Realizing instinctively that it was important to maintain contact with other members of the wizarding world, she tried to cast aside the myriad thoughts and fears that had assaulted her brain ever since the Killing Curse had streaked directly over her head. As if she had tuned the Wizarding Wireless poorly to a distant station, Ginny was finally able to make out what was being said.

"Have you tried to revive her, Poppy?"

"Not really, Hippocrates," answered Madam Pomfrey with a voice Ginny would recognize anywhere. "I didn't want to waste much time, so I've only tried to use Ennervate."

"And did you get any response whatsoever?" asked the other voice.

"No, it's almost like nothing is going on inside her mind, but the tree limb fell across her back. I saw no head injury, and none of my Diagnostic Charms suggested any brain trauma at all, so I think she must simply be completely unconscious."

"Hmmm," murmured Healer Smethwyck. "I wonder if her problem isn't just the opposite – too much coming at her at once. Did you check for any other injuries"

"I did a quick scan that indicated something was wrong, but I couldn't figure it out. However, one of Miss Weasley's … I mean, one of Mrs. Potter's friends told me that she was expecting a baby. I'm concerned because nothing like that showed up on my body scans."

Ginny heard uncertainty in Healer Smethwyck's voice, followed by the complicated incantation of a spell she did not recognize. She fought to maintain focus upon the conversation taking place above her, though she already knew the answer. At last, she heard a sad sigh escape from his lips of her Healer.

"Are you certain Mrs. Potter was pregnant, Poppy?"

"It was confirmed by Mr. Potter," replied Madam Pomfrey, "but we didn't run any independent tests, if that's what you're asking."

"I don't think we'll need anything that sophisticated," said the deep voice Ginny now knew belonged to Hippocrates Smethwyck. "Let's just take a look at the visual evidence, now that Mrs. Potter has been here for a while."

Ginny knew what was coming without another word being spoken. In the midst of everything else that was assaulting her mind, she was not surprised to hear the incantation to the levitation spell.

"Wingardium Leviosa," said Smethwyck quietly.

Ginny felt her body rise weightlessly from the hospital bed. A moment later, she heard an unmistakable gasp that confirmed what she already knew instinctively. Her baby was lost forever.

As her body settled back against the mattress, Ginny heard Healer Smethwyck call for a Calming Draught to be delivered to the bedside. She began to relax in anticipation of the potion. When at last the soothing liquid slid down her throat, Ginny felt as if hundreds of competing voices and ideas had been instantaneously silenced. The relief was palpable even though a deep sadness settled over her and her heart longed only for Harry to be with her. Her eyelids opened slightly until she focused on the light blue eyes of the Healer.

"Mrs. Potter," said Healer Smethwyck gently. "I'm sorry, but your baby has been lost."

"I know," whispered Ginny. "Is there any permanent damage? Will we be able to have other children?"

"We have no way to tell without a complete battery of tests, and even then, we might not know with certainty" answered the Healer. "There is almost always some residual damage whenever there's a miscarriage. Sometimes there is no way to know until there is another conception … if there is another conception."

The Healer's words struck with a force almost as powerful as the force of the tree limb that had struck her to the ground. The words began playing in a continuous loop within her mind. "There is almost always some residual damage … Sometimes there is no way to know … if there is another conception." Ginny fought against the fear that welled up within her, but there was no way to hold the negativity at bay. As the Calming Draught took full force, allowing her traumatized body to enter a deep, healing sleep, she felt an even deeper ache spread through her soul.

"I may never be able to give Harry his family."

*****

Harry followed Professor McGonagall as quickly as he could on legs that seemed to be rebelling against his brain's orders to move forward. He couldn't decide if he was relieved or even more worried to hear that Hippocrates Smethwyck, himself, had been called in to work with Ginny. He was a Healer of some renown throughout Britain and represented a family tradition of Healing that stretched back at least two centuries. No one in the wizarding community truly remembered when the family had first entered the art and science of Magical Healing, but absolutely everyone knew it was an ancient tradition.

Harry's mind was reeling when, at last, they approached an area of the hospital that appeared to be partitioned away from the others. Headmistress McGonagall shoved open the heavy bronze doors that were engraved The Celestina Warbeck Wing for Prominent Witches and Wizards. Harry's eyes were drawn immediately to a plaque bearing the names of significant donors – a list of names topped by one that made Harry's skin crawl immediately – Lucius Malfoy.

Ever since Harry sat in the top box at the Quidditch World Cup, he had known that Lucius Malfoy gave a substantial gift to St. Mungo's. It had never crossed his mind that this donation had gone to a wing for prominent witches and wizards, but it made perfect sense once Harry stopped and thought things over. How else would an elitist like Lucius Malfoy earmark his contribution? As he pushed his way into the wing, Harry made a mental note that his own name would never appear on the orphanage he and Ginny planned to establish.

The Celestina Warbeck Wing for Prominent Witches and Wizards was the most luxurious facility Harry had ever seen, with dark-stained hardwood paneling and rich, thick carpeting of forest green. The nursing station looked more like an executive office complex, with Healers and Nurses seated behind massive oak desks that were also finished in a dark stain and accented with gold filigree. There were five rooms on either side of the central area with what appeared to be family waiting facilities on the right side and patient rooms on the left. Through the last doorway on the right, Harry spotted a number of redheaded Weasleys and realized that he must have been the last of Ginny's family to arrive at the hospital.

"She's in the last room on your left," said Professor McGonagall.

Harry nodded in her direction, waved at Arthur Weasley, who was staring at him through the doorway, and rushed into Ginny's treatment room, nearly striking Madam Pomfrey with the door as he hurled it open in front of him.

"Excuse me!" she blurted while jumping neatly out of harm's way.

"I'm sorry, Madam Pom…" Harry began before the look in her eyes brought him to a sudden stop.

Harry's stomach seized immediately, for he had seen that exact look in so many pairs of eyes as he had grown up in the Wizarding World – the look of unspoken sympathy – the look people gave him when they couldn't find whatever words should be said to a young wizard who had lost his parents as a toddler – the look that told him unequivocally that something terrible had happened.

"Ginny!" he gasped uncontrollably.

"No, Harry," whispered the Hogwarts' nurse as she took Harry's hands in her own. "Ginny is going to be all right, but I'm afraid she lost the baby."

Relief washed over him, followed immediately by a sense of shame that he held, at that particular moment in time, concern for no one other than his wife.

"Ginny's okay?" he asked compulsively, needing additional confirmation that his world had not come to a crashing end.

"Ginny is fine," replied Madam Pomfrey as she directed Harry's attention to a tall wizard in Healer's robes. "This is Healer Smethwyck, and he will be in charge of Ginny's recovery."

"Mr. Potter," he said with a gentle nod of his head. "I'd like to learn as much about your wife as I can in the hopes that something you tell me might help us keep her in the present. We spoke for a moment right after the Calming Draught had been administered.

"Sh … Sh …She spoke with you?" stammered Harry, unsure he was hearing things correctly. "Ginny was able to speak?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. She was able to speak and was quite lucid, acknowledging that she was aware that a miscarriage had occurred and worrying that there might be permanent damage to her reproductive system."

"What?"

"Her only concern seemed to be whether or not this incident would leave her incapable of bearing children in the future. I can't put my finger on it, but there was a sense of focus and determination in her eyes. It was rather surprising for someone who has been through what your wife has just experienced. Is it normal for her to be so …"

"So … focused? So … determined? So … so … what, exactly?" asked Harry, his facial expression softening noticeably as his thoughts lingered on those attributes of Ginny's personality that made her so strong … so irrepressible … so irresistible.

"Some combination of those things, Mr. Potter. It seems silly to read too much into such a brief encounter – especially under such adverse circumstances – but there was such a sense of strength about her."

"You have no idea," answered Harry, surprised to find that he was willing to talk to a stranger about the things that made Ginny – well, Ginny. Then, as quickly as the desire had risen within him, it was gone. When it came to his emotions, there had only been one person who had ever been able to reach inside the complex web of feelings that defined Harry Potter, and that person was Ginny. He thought back to that terrible day he had visited Arthur Weasley in this very hospital, only to hear that Mad-Eye and the others thought he might be possessed by Voldemort – how he might be a weapon in the hands of the enemy. He thought about how everyone had danced about him, as if walking on eggshells, half-fearing while half-pitying him. Ginny was the one person who had stood her ground, defiantly willing to deal with Harry head-on.

"Healer Smethwyck," Harry said softly while never taking his eyes off his wife. "Here's what you need to know about Ginny. She's strong-willed, independent, and believes everything is possible. She's exceedingly powerful, as strong mentally as she is magically."

"Then I have no doubt she'll recover quickly and completely, Mr. Potter. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me to see her functioning normally as soon as the effects of the Calming Draught have worn off.

I think I'll get back to my patients upstairs, but please call me the moment anything changes."

"I will," said Harry while pulling a chair up beside Ginny's bed. "And thank you for everything."

"My pleasure, entirely," said the Healer as he turned from the room, leaving the newlywed couple alone together.

Harry laced his fingers gently, yet deeply into Ginny's fiery tresses and placed a tender kiss upon her forehead.

"I love you, Ginny," he whispered against her ear.

*****

It was sheer bedlam at the Ministry of Magic as Kingsley Shacklebolt moved quickly through his investigatory paces. He felt so much more at home while functioning as a highly-trained Auror than he did in his new capacity as Minister of Magic, even though the Wizengamot had recently acted to remove the qualifier of "Temporary" from his title. Kingsley had recently wondered if he would ever feel worthy of such an appointment, but these thoughts were far from his mind at present. Instead, he was deeply engaged in an effort to determine whether or not Harry Potter and his family faced any other immediate threats.

Once he had transported Draco and Pansy back to the Aurors' offices at the Ministry, he separated them in individual interrogation rooms and assigned his most skilled personnel. Pansy, who had never studied Occlumency, proved an open book, confessing her involvement in the plot to murder Harry and seize control of the Elder Wand for Lucius Malfoy. Kingsley had been surprised by her willingness to divulge so much information freely, confessing to having been involved in the plan, along with her father, Draco, and Lucius from the earliest stages.

"Why wait until the last minute for the change of heart, Ms. Parkinson?" asked Kingsley as their interview was coming to an end.

"I'm not really sure of that, myself," answered Pansy, a perplexed look taking up residence on her face.

"And what, exactly do you mean by that?" Kingsley continued.

"I always thought Mr. Malfoy's plan was stupid, but as the time approached … well … well …"

"Yes, Ms. Parkinson?"

"Well, something about it just seemed wrong."

Kingsley looked quizzically at his detainee, wondering who was more surprised that Pansy had, for the first time in her life, determined that something was inherently wrong and not simply stupid.

*****

His senses honed by months running from death, Harry instinctively felt the silent opening of the door to Ginny's room, breaking his vigil at his wife's bedside as effectively as if an explosion had ripped through the hospital. He whirled away from her still unconscious form in a single fluid motion, his wand pointing instantly at the witch and wizard entering. Both froze instantly, knowing exactly how dangerous Harry could be when protecting those he loved.

"Oh, it's you," he whispered, his body relaxing instantly. "Sorry about the wand."

"It's all right, mate," answered Ron. "We just thought you might appreciate a little company."

"Right … thanks," Harry replied, pleased to see his best friends approaching with their hands clasped gently together.

The fading light of evening seemed to gather in the diamond on Hermione's hand, magnifying the illumination in the room.

Harry realized immediately that no natural stone possessed such qualities and chalked the effect up to his horrific fears for Ginny's well-being that still haunted him despite the efforts of the healthcare professionals to assure him of her overall excellent health. Knowing first hand the depth of emotion that lay behind the giving of such a ring, Harry turned back to gaze at the brilliant diamond and ruby rings that adorned Ginny's left hand. The addition of the gold band, inlaid with alternating baguettes of flaming rubies and sparkling diamonds, screamed to him of everything that Ginny was – of her irrepressible radiance and her unquenchable fire, held within a perfect circle with him – and suddenly Harry relaxed.

Whatever the impact of the miscarriage might be, he was confident that Ginny would not be beaten. She was strong. She was vibrant. She knew that almost anything in life was possible. Healer Smethwyck and Madam Pomfrey were right. Ginny would be strong. Ginny would weather whatever storm she had to face.

"Still with us, mate?" Ron asked while Harry continued to stare at Ginny, obviously lost in thought.

"Harry?" said Hermione, moving her hand gently to Harry's shoulder. "Healer Smethwyck came to the family waiting area and told us Ginny's going to recover completely. We're so relieved for you both."

"Yeah … thanks," Harry replied softly while turning back to gaze longingly at Ginny's cheek. "What else did he have to say to the entire family?"

"Nothing, Harry. He kept everything else confidential," she assured him.

"That's good," answered Harry, relief washing over his face and tension draining from his shoulders. "That's really good."

"What are they keeping confidential?" asked Ron, alarm etched into his features. "What else is wrong with Ginny?"

"Nothing, Ron," said Hermione.

"Don't tell me 'nothing.' I'm not an idiot," said Ron. "What is it? What's wrong with her?"

Hermione looked pleadingly in Harry's direction, her eyes imploring him not to keep Ron on the outside. "Harry, we've been through everything together."

Harry swallowed hard, keeping his eyes locked on Hermione's. It wasn't that he wanted to exclude his best friend from such important information, but Ron was Ginny's brother. He would have preferred for Ginny to make this decision, but any further delay would only serve to alienate the man who had been more than a brother for nearly seven years.

"She was pregnant, Ron," whispered Harry, struggling to force the words past his lips. "Ginny and I were expecting a baby, but she had a miscarriage when we were attacked."

"Pregnant? You and Ginny?" asked Ron, incredulous. "Ginny was pregnant?"

"Yes," whispered Harry, his eyes downcast.

"Ginny was pregnant?" Ron repeated, his voice rising with tension.

"Now, Ron," said Hermione, who reached out her hand in an effort to impede her fiancé who was rapidly closing the distance that separated him from Harry.

"I'm so … so … sorry," he whispered hoarsely while pulling Harry into a firm embrace.

Harry shuffled his feet quickly to maintain his balance, shocked by Ron's emotional show of support. "I'd rather keep it quiet unless Ginny wants to talk about it," he croaked into Ron's ear.

"Of course you would," answered Ron.

"Anyway, all that matters is that Ginny is going to be okay," said Harry, meaning every word with every ounce of his being. "As long as she's okay, we'll be fine."

*****

Despite the reassurances of Healer Smethwyck, the scene in the family waiting area was tense. No one had expected an attack to foil Ginny and Harry's wedding, and all of the witches and wizards there were silently cursing themselves for being so ill-prepared for such an event. Arthur shook his head as he took in the forlorn appearance of the normally boisterous Weasley crowd, and for the first time since Fred's death, he cleared his throat and spoke as the head of his family.

"Everyone, I'd like to say something, please," he began while every set of eyes in the waiting area snapped to attention. "We've all been guilty of a terrible lapse in judgment, but the good news is that our Ginny is going to be okay."

"Thank God," said Molly while stepping beside her husband.

"Now, did anyone here see what happened?" he asked.

His questions were met with silence, as every member of the Weasley clan had jumped to Ginny's assistance rather than searching for the attackers. Slowly, every eye in the room turned toward Minerva McGonagall.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I started to go with Kingsley but came back to help Poppy with Ginny. I really don't know anything you don't. I'm just as much in the dark as you are."

A sudden clearing of a throat was followed shortly thereafter with the unmistakable voice of the Minister of Magic. "I can shed some light on things for you, but only the bare essentials. Then I need to have some time with Harry – alone."