Chapter 2: Duplicity
Ginny circled the training pitch at high speed, the wind tugging at her braids, autumn fog pricking the skin of her exposed arms. The hardest part of a five AM practice was getting up for it — in fact, that very morning Ginny had cursed her decision to become a professional player with a few choice words. But once she was in the air, endorphins flooded Ginny with the unmistakable feeling of invincibility.
Two months ago, that same feeling of invincibility had been snatched away as she experienced an episode in midair, blacking out in the blink of an eye. She had been caught at the last second by Gwenog's hasty cushioning spell, thank Merlin, waking up an hour later in their athletic recovery room surrounded by concerned teammates. From that day on, Gwenog made sure to apply a cushioning charm to the whole field before each practice.
"Gabby! Valmai! Ginny! We're going into formation drills," came Gwenog's magically amplified voice. Ginny tilted her broom toward the center of the pitch, bringing her broom to an abrupt stop as she reached her teammates in their huddle. Today's practice was all about endgame formations, the airborne shapes they could make to shield their Seeker from attention while still maintaining an aggressive scoring routine.
It was all about deception. Her favorite endgame formation was called the Gull Axis Shift, a simple V-formation with the players in the wrong positions so that Seeker, usually leftmost, could break away like a Beater after a Bludger. She had been reminded of the Gull Axis Shift while reading a chapter in Practical Mind Magics which explained the theory of Duplicity.
When attempting to convey a false narrative to the Legilimens, never focus directly on the falsities. Focus on the similarities between your narrative and the truth, and draw the images of this union to the forefront of your mind. When first learning to apply Duplicity, you may need to prepare the scene(s) of deceit in advance and imagine excessive detail to fit the scene, such that you can simply replay this prepared scene when faced with a Legilimens. Advanced Occlumency practitioners can apply Duplicity on the fly, creating enough texture and detail instantly that falsities are indiscernible from the truth.
Swooping low to catch the Quaffle from Valmai, Ginny nodded to herself. The theory made sense, and she just needed to repeat the exercises, ingrain the techniques in her head. Next time, Julien wouldn't be snooping in her head so easily.
"My sister told me about Harry," Valmai said, chocolate ice cream in hand. Ginny tried to keep up with her fellow Chaser as they strolled down Diagon Alley — Valmai was almost six feet tall and didn't notice Ginny's slight jog. "He's her Defense professor now."
"What does she think of him?"
"He's pretty good," Valmai replied. "She says he doesn't give much homework. And there's still the 'wow' factor for the younger kids, him being Harry and all."
"I'm glad he's doing well," Ginny said. And she meant it. It was good that he was throwing himself into something new — maybe he was becoming something close to his old self again.
"You guys ever talk still?"
"No. I mean, do you talk to your ex?"
"Touché," Valmai grinned as she licked the melted ice cream on her cone. "Landon was an arse. Good riddance, I say. Onto bigger and better things."
Ginny nodded, pursing her lips. She wished it was that simple for her. How could she antagonize Harry? He was Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, the boy who put everyone first.
But after Ron's attack, they spent months like dementors hovering around each other. There was no end in sight to the grief, not when Harry was a walking picture of guilt and Ginny a picture of rage, yearning for revenge. Ending the relationship had been the only way forward.
"Is George going to be there?" Valmai's voice interrupted Ginny's train of thought as the giant top hat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes came into sight.
"I think so," Ginny said. They followed a healthy flow of customers streaming through the doors, chuckling at the newest advertisement for Permanent Chair Stickers - Leave them behind, stick them behind!
Fever-dream labels and popping noises surrounded them as soon as they got inside. Before long, Ginny heard a familiar voice and whirled to find George with a big grin on his face.
"Let me guess, Gwenog's working you too hard and you need some skiving snackboxes," George said, pulling Ginny into a tight embrace.
"We just wanted to say hi," Ginny replied, smiling.
George gave Valmai a hug as well and Ginny could swear that she saw the usually-unflappable Valmai blush. As George launched into an animated summary of the most recent product changes in the store, Ginny couldn't help but notice the sunken bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well in weeks.
George had thrown himself into his work after Ron's death, conferring with Lee day and night, coming out with product after product. They all had different ways of coping, and George's way, while productive, was clearly taking a toll on his body.
To be fair, Ginny's own coping method was also consuming her life — in fact, she had come into the shop with somewhat of an ulterior motive.
"That sounds… lovely," Ginny said, in response to George's explanation of the latest improvements to You-No-Poo. Valmai was drinking it up like a love potion, asking for details on the constipation experience and all. "Is Lee in the back? I was going to say hi to him."
"He's in there," George said, pointing to the door with the "Employees Only!" sign. Ginny left the two to continue their conversation, dodging a small boy running rabidly with Ton-Tongue Toffees in his hand. The door creaked as she pushed it open, and she stuck her head in, finding Lee organizing the overstock shelves in the cramped room.
"Ginny!" Lee greeted as he saw her. "How're you doing?"
"I'm good, how are you? How's the store?"
"Never been busier, honestly," Lee said, not missing a beat with his rapid-fire restocking. "Scratch that, I say that each time. But these days we're talking with Zonko's, thinking about expanding again."
"That's incredible," Ginny exclaimed. "Listen, I know you've got a lot of work to do but I wanted to ask you a quick question."
"Ask away!"
"So, I may have met your brother."
Lee halted his movements, a bundle of fake wands in his left hand and Muggle cards in his right. He stared back at Ginny like he'd misheard.
"You… met my brother. Uh, where?"
"In the Depar — De —" Ginny found that she couldn't complete her sentence, that her tongue had betrayed her and was now curled up in the back of her mouth.
"I think I know what you're saying. Or what you're not saying. I don't think we're allowed to say it because of the secrecy spells," Lee said slowly. "And why in the world would you go there?"
"It's — uh, it's related to Ron," Ginny replied. "Don't tell George, please. I don't want him to worry."
Lee nodded. "And what did you talk about with Julien?"
"I was referred to him by my mind healer for some questions I had. But I couldn't believe he's your brother — you two are so different," Ginny said. "Did he not go to Hogwarts?"
Lee sighed, and Ginny could see the emotion bubbling up in him. A fake wand squawked at him and dropped to the ground as a rubber duck, and he took his time picking it up.
"He went to Durmstrang. He had a gift for the mind arts ever since he was a kid. My parents were afraid of what his talent would turn into if it was left untrained, so they found the school with the best program for mind magic and sent him there."
"Durmstrang teaches that?"
"They do. It was really the only choice for Julien to control his magic," Lee said. "But he hated it there. The professors there were brutal. Most of them were heavy into Dark magic."
Ginny scrunched her nose. "That's terrible."
"Yeah. I would ask him so many questions when he came back in the summers, but he would never answer them," Lee said. "He went deeper and deeper into his own world, and we drifted apart."
"Do you guys talk now?" Ginny asked.
"Not much. It was hard to stay in contact because he had to disappear during the war," Lee said. "These days we're both busy, so we only see each other during Christmas. We're different people now."
Ginny nodded. "Thanks, Lee. I didn't want to pry but my curiosity was killing me."
"Yeah, of course," Lee said. "Be safe, Ginny. I don't want to know what you're doing, but from everything I've heard, you should be careful. Really careful. I wouldn't mess around with the Department of Mysteries."
That night, Ginny had another episode. It snuck up on her while she showered, absentmindedly browsing through the events of the day while lathering up her hair. One moment, she was holding the shampoo bottle, the next moment a now-familiar surge of magical energy welled up in her chest. Merlin's ballsack. Not again.
She tried to turn the shower off, but in the middle of reaching for the hot water handle, warm magical energy surged into her body and she found herself incapable of moving. Need to close my eyes.
An hour later, she coughed and sputtered before registering that she was lying on the white tile of her shower, the stream of warm water jetting on her back. Her head pounded like it had been stormed by a herd of centaurs, and her arms and legs tingled with itchiness. As she slowly rose to turn the water off, she noticed that her fingers were pruned to oblivion. The thought hit Ginny that she might've drowned if it were a bath she had chosen to take instead of a shower. The episodes were coming on more aggressively than before, and Ginny had a feeling it was only a matter of time before she was seriously hurt.
She took a Headache Reliever before returning to her Occlumency book, reading it for hours until sleep clutched her in its firm embrace again.
Ginny sat in a cushioned orange chair on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's, surrounded by paintings of jellyfish so drab they barely moved. The air smelled stiff and strangely saccharine, but she'd gotten used to the smell, having come twice already for check-ins. Healer Morrison peered at Ginny with a practiced calmness, her gray-tinged hair perched atop her head in a perfectly coiffed bun.
"You went to see Unspeakable M, I presume?"
"Yes."
"And did you find it a helpful session?"
Ginny nodded. "I'll be learning Occlumency, like you suggested. But how exactly will it help me with the episodes?"
"It will help you regain control. Your episodes should recede when your mind is trained. When it's ready," Healer Morrison replied.
"When will my mind be ready?" Ginny asked.
"You will know."
Ginny raised her gaze, the absolute conviction in the Healer's tone capturing her attention.
What did she mean, she would know? She didn't know anythingright now. The episodes came on at random times, endangering every little action in her life, causing unknowable consequences. She had spent months hunting for some semblance of control in her own life, to no avail. But before she could unravel the words, the Healer spoke again.
"You will need to train extensively with the Unspeakable. Occlumency is not just a little trick, it's part of a vast field of magic that you will need to study. The mind arts will give you control."
Ginny sighed. The mind arts will give you control. If only it were that easy. Ginny felt like the woman was imparting something exceptionally important to her and she was failing to catch it.
"But I just had an episode, even after learning some Occlumency."
Healer Morrison inclined her head, face solemn. "You're just getting started. Keep meeting with M."
Her voice brooked no room for argument, and that was how Ginny found herself firecalling a certain kitten-heeled witch, scheduling another appointment in the land of floating brains and cryptic mind readers.
