*groans* Periodic tests end and Half-yearly begins so fast!!! And reviews are quite the opposite, though. Something I haven't given in the previous chapters:

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and the universe of wizardry. I am just toying around with them in my imagination.

Hope was a dangerous thing. But it's also something like the last resort - people end up doing it, whether they want it or not - it's almost as if it's built in like how we know how to move and talk and sleep. Earlier, humans probably needed hope to keep on going - it may have kept them motivated to live, to survive to not let humanity die not.

Hope was also a curious, mysterious being. It sort of creeps up on you when you're least expecting it, and lights up a dark world with just feel.

A mere feel.

And feelings were exhausting.

Groaning, Draco ran his hand through his dirty and greasy hair. He really was thinking like an old wise coot.

Albus Dumbledore.

No, no, no, no. The Dementors had to mess it up all again, hadn't they? No one could ever get more than a few seconds of peace. As if reading his thoughts, which they do, the dark figures loomed in front of barred cell. He scrambled away to the far left corner - the darkest one. Unfortunately, it's where the Dementors prey on most...


Harry was considering telling Ginny about the incident with Malfoy.

But he certainly wasn't expecting the miscarriage.

Ginny stumbled in the market, yes. She dropped the groceries. She bent to pick them up. She was just 3 months into pregnancy but - was it really just that? He had a feeling there was more to it.

Why am I doubting my wife? I love her, purely and unconditionally.

Aren't those just lies.

No.

He really hated these tiny inner wars of thoughts happening inside his brain. Sighing, he walked over to Ginny, who was a crumpled mess of tears and wayward hair on the rug in front of the fireplace.

"Ginny.." He began. No answer. Not that he expected one anyway.

"...How about we try again?"

That did not sound like what he wanted it to.


She exploded.

How could her own husband, the father of the now dead child, feel no remorse. She watched through her blurry vision, just mere surprise on his face and then - how dare he?

"How about we try again?"

Was Harry just here for sex?

"No!" She screamed, getting up a bit too quickly and a short wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her. She gripped the nearest sofa to stay upright.

"Ginny-" Harry tried to say, but she had had enough of his shite.

"No! Just once in your life shut up and listen to me! Do you really don't care that our first child, who never got a chance to see this world, is gone! He died in my womb, which is supposed to be the birth of life! And where were you? I had to go to buy groceries because you weren't there when I needed you!" Panting, Ginny collapsed, her legs dangling from the sofa where she was heaped upon in an awkward position.

Quickly, full of panic and anxiety, Harry floo'd to St.Mungo's.


"Did you see that? How ironic, the child of The BoyWho Lived died even before he came into the world!"

Not. True. Kingsley reminded himself. Definitely not true.

But were the memories really not true?


Narcissa Malfoy loved her husband. Even more she loved her son. She would do anything for Draco.

Even go against the ministry.

Every day she would go, asking to see her son. Every day they denied. Oh, now they just said "No." without even listening to her or before she had even spoken a single word.

Then Harry Potter came into the picture. She heard about what he did by overhearing gossip when she went to the Ministry. That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all.

He didn't know about the small group of Death Eater relatives out to get vengeance, and the many Aurors in Azkaban under the Imperious curse. Controlled spies, if you will.

She had to find out a way to tell him. To tell him about the spies, about the possible danger that lurked behind those so-called 'secure' walls in the middle of an ocean.

And hey, nobody said that Cygnus Black is dead.


"Don't worry, it's nothing serious. It's quite normal for witches who lose their first child, either born or unborn, to have temper fits like that and pass out. It's also because of stress - be sure to keep that away from Mrs.Potter - it's something about magical bond, love, blah blah blah that makes the witch faint. For safety, she will have to kept in the Mental Care and be monitored for depression and emotional burnouts. Please meet with Dr.Hemmingworth for further details and some papers regarding your wife's physical and mental health." Said Dr.Flippel. A funny name, really, thought Harry, it rhymes with rebel and expel.

"Can I...Can I see her?" He asked, unsure.

"Of course. She's under the influence of a sleeping fraught right now." Taking uncertain and hesitating steps, he followed the doctor to Ginny's room.

The door opened and he stepped through. The moment he laid his eyes on her - he wished he hadn't. Her beautiful red hair was a mess, and its contrast against the white pillow looked like a muggle red velvet cake. Her eyes were closed. Even in unconsciousness they looked tired; exhausted. Her hands were on her stomach, causing a sting of pain and unnecessary guilt in his heart.

"I would like to be left alone with her." He almost collapsed on the floor in relief when the doctor complied.

Seating himself on the chair beside her, he ran a hand through his hair. "Gin, I'm really sorry. I'm caught up in a mess of stinking shit and am trying to find a way out. I wanted to tell you something..." he paused and took a deep breath, "...something which I don't think I should tell you now. I'm sorry for not being a better husband to you. I'm sorry for not caring better, not being with you when you needed me the most. I saved the entire Wizarding World - but how could I not save you?" Harry was tugging at his hair and his throat felt constricted. His lungs felt as if they were being squeezed by those lemon squeezers Aunt Petunia used to make lemon juice for her dear Dudley.

He needed to be alone. Gasping, he got up and half-walked, half-ran through the halls and outside the hospital, where a small garden was there for patients. He sat on the nearest empty bench he could find and took deep breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In-

"Sir, are you alright?" A worker in the grounds asked. Thankfully he didn't throw him off with his accidental magic.

"I'm fine. Just came here to enjoy the weather." He cast a tempus. "I must be going now." He stood up abruptly and as he was out of the wards, his thought before apparition was -

I've thought about the Dursley's and my magic losing control!

Just how déjà vu is it to the visions caused by - !

I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Updates may get slow because of my exams coming up.