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Author: St Margarets Story: Magic Within, Magic Without Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 38 Words: 82,984
Ginny didn't have a chance to work on her Jarvey project until the next morning. It was another beautiful day, but the clock had been whining for rain. Some of the more succulent plants were looking withered and dry, but the rue shrubs – lined against the south wall – were as freshly blue-green as ever. Ginny absently rubbed her hand over the rue leaves while she looked for the Jarvey. Then she was sorry she did. They smelled terrible. Why did rue have to be her wand wood? A shriek from the cottage shattered the morning calm. Her heart pounding, Ginny ran into the kitchen to find Aunt Martha standing over Lotty, trying to beat away the flames that were consuming the knitted scarf around Lotty's neck. Ginny took out her wand and shouted the Extinguishing Spell. A jet of water shot out and doused the flames. There was black smoke and the acrid smell of burned flesh. "What happened?" Aunt Martha stared at her with glazed eyes. "Lotty burned the scones and then she burned herself as punishment – but it caught her clothes on fire…" She started to sway. When Ginny pushed a chair under her aunt, she realized that Aunt Martha was hurt, too. The gnarled fingers were bright red with horrible blisters. Ginny grabbed the large pan from the table – half full of freshly shelled peas – and filled it with cold water. She plunged her aunt's hands into the icy water, looking anxiously at the tears of pain leaking from the old lady's eyes. Lotty was crooning, rocking back and forth on her knees. The blackened scarf had melted into the livid burn on her wrinkled gray skin. Ginny didn't know what to do except to keep the scarf wet until she could somehow… pick it out of the wound. Ginny started a fire under the cauldron and hurly-burly threw in the willow bark and the mint and the daisy juice. It seemed to take forever for the liquid to bubble and then turn the required cool blue. She took Aunt Martha's hands out of the basin and wrapped them in the dripping poultice. When she set the bowl of swirling green peas on the table, Ginny could feel her stomach turn from the acrid stench in the room. Pushing those thoughts away, Ginny grabbed a mint leave and inhaled. For a moment, the awful smell went away. Aunt Martha was trembling. Probably in shock, Ginny thought. She hurried to the cupboard and found a shawl to drape around her aunt's drooping shoulders. Then she made hot, sweet tea. "Drink this." She held the cup up to her aunt's lips. Obediently, Aunt Martha, took a sip. "Help Lotty," Aunt Martha said, once she stopped shivering. "What should I do for her?" Ginny asked urgently. The elf's eyes were glassy with pain. "Put a grain of poppy pollen in her tea. No more, mind – she's so small." Ginny pinched a flake of pollen in the small mug of tea and then offered it to Lotty. Immediately, the elf's eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed on the floor. "You have to clean the wound." It was the most difficult thing Ginny had ever done and she was glad that Lotty was not awake to feel fabric and flesh being torn away. Aunt Martha told her where to find the burn salve in the bathroom. Once their wounds were anointed, Ginny chivvied Aunt Martha off to bed. "I can't lie down today. There's too much to do," she complained, sinking on to the pillow. "Yes, you can," Ginny answered shortly. Her patience had been sorely tested, trying to get her aunt up the stairs. "Lotty?" "When Harry returns, I'll have him carry Lotty up to her cupboard." Aunt Martha lips compressed in pain and she nodded. "I'm giving you some poppy draught too," Ginny said firmly, even though she had no idea how to make it. "There's some willow bark infusion in the bathroom – give me a spoonful of that." The willow bark acted quickly. Ginny could see her aunt relax. Her face sagged into wrinkles Ginny had never noticed before. Aunt Martha always held herself so proudly. "I forgot the incantation for water," Aunt Martha murmured, her eyes haunted. "How could I forget that?" Ginny smoothed a lock of faded red hair away from her aunt's face. "Try to sleep." * Ginny returned to the kitchen in a daze, and made herself a cup of tea, all while trying to ignore Lotty's prone body. She wasn't sure if she could use Mobilicorpus on an elf and she didn't have the strength to carry her up the stairs. "Hedwig just brought the post," Harry announced as he entered the kitchen. Then he stopped in his tracks and took in the pan of burned scones, the tea towels trailing out of the drawer, the potion ingredients scattered about, and finally, he spotted Lotty. "Is she dead?" he asked warily. "No, she's not dead!" Ginny sputtered. "Er — good," he answered. "What did you think?" She started to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "That I committed the perfect crime and now I'm having a spot of tea while I plan the next grisly murder?" For some reason, there were tears running down her face. Harry found a box of tissues in all of the clutter, and handed it to her. Then he sat in the chair next to her and waited. When she stopped crying he said, "Drink your tea before you try to talk." She did as he said, comforted by his silent presence. He wasn't touching her, but his arm was on the back of her chair. She could feel his warmth cross the short space between them. Sighing deeply, she finished her tea and then told him the whole story. "I don't know if I did enough for her hands," she fretted. "Burns are tricky – they can get infected so easily. Charlie would know what to do." "You were brilliant," Harry assured her. "And I can ask Biggs about the local Healer. Surely they would make a house call for someone Aunt Martha's age." This was so reasonable, Ginny immediately felt better. "Harry, she forgot the incantation for water." "That can happen when you're in a stressful situation. I'm sure she was upset about Lotty." "I don't know," Ginny said, staring into his eyes. "What if she's slipping? You know, like in her mind? Will she be able to stay here alone with just a dotty old house-elf?" Harry frowned. "I don't think that is our worry or our decision to make. You write to your parents and let them know what's going on. But I can tell you that your Aunt Martha isn't going to take too well to people telling her she can't be independent." "Tell me about it," Ginny sighed. "I had the worst time getting her to bed." "Imagine a Weasley not wanting help." "This Weasley wants help cleaning the kitchen." They cleaned the kitchen together after Harry gently carried Lotty upstairs. He was afraid to use Mobilicorpus and risk bumping Lotty's head on the narrow stairs. Ginny opened all the windows so the burnt smell would escape. While she worked, she worried about Aunt Martha and thought about how very difficult it must be to grow old. "What ever shall we have for lunch?" the clock asked plaintively. Ginny laughed, glad to have a concern that was both immediate and solvable. "Yes, whatever shall we have?" she asked Harry who had just returned from feeding the scones to the pigs. "What do you think Lotty was planning?" he asked peering into the larder. "I don't see any haunches of beef or fatted calves or anything." "Sandwiches," Ginny said, pulling out the breadbox. "And a salad – go get one." "Er – do I catch it – stun it – what?" "The garden, city boy. And make sure the lettuce is washed. I don't fancy eating a caterpillar." "What about a spider?" he asked. She flung a towel at him, not bothering to reply. She could hear him talking to the Jarvey through the open window, but the words weren't clear. "And don't go mucking up my project!" she called through the window. * After lunch Ginny checked on Aunt Martha who was sleeping fitfully. Harry went out to the barns to talk to Biggs about finding a Healer. The breeze picked up and the sky darkened; it looked like it would finally rain. Ginny was closing windows when she heard a small pop behind her. She whirled around. "Ginny!" "Mum! Oh, Mum!" She flew into her mother's arms like she was a little girl again. "I can't believe you're here." "Darling, I missed you terribly and I knew I would be in the neighborhood today… so I owled Martha for instructions to pop in. It's very difficult to Apparate into this estate. Didn't Martha tell you I was coming?" "I think she forgot," Ginny said with a sinking heart wondering if that was another sign that her aunt was failing. Mum frowned. "That's not like her." "We've had a lot of excitement around here. Would you like a cup of tea, while I tell you about it?" It seemed strange to be offering her own mother a cup of tea in someone else's kitchen. Ginny half-expected Mum to do it herself, but she gratefully accepted Ginny's offer and sat at the table with a tired sigh. After Ginny told her the events of the morning, Mum patted her on the knee. "You showed some quick thinking." "I'm not sure if I did enough for Aunt Martha, though. I think she's in a lot of pain." "Do you want me to check on her?" A huge weight lifted from Ginny's shoulders. Mum was here and she would take care of everything. Ginny stared out of the window when her mother went upstairs. It was starting to rain – a lovely soft green rain. She opened the kitchen door so she could hear the gentle hiss of the water as it soaked the dry ground. There was that special smell that came during the first five minutes of rain after a dry spell. It was the scent of the earth opening up and receiving.… "I think she's going to be all right, Ginny. Her blisters are going down already – but she needs something stronger than the willow bark," Mum announced on her return. "She has poppy pollen, but there's no draught prepared." "We can do that now." Ginny inwardly groaned. Anything with Mum in the kitchen was a nightmare. She had her own way of doing things and was impatient when Ginny didn't work as quickly as she did. Often Mum would just take over and send Ginny on her way. This time however, her mother sat at the table and read the directions from a tattered volume of The Elizabeth Crocker Potions Book. Since Ginny knew where everything was in Aunt Martha's kitchen, she was the one who measured, pounded and mixed the ingredients. "It's time for the fire," Ginny said expectantly. Her mum didn't move from her chair. "You do it, Ginny." While they were waiting for the first stage of the boiling process, Harry returned, his hair soaking wet. "Mrs. Weasley!" Ginny was happy to see how pleased he was. Sometimes Mum could be maddening – but Harry never seemed to mind her fussiness too much. "Where did you get that raincoat?" Ginny asked. It was several inches too short in the sleeves and was stretched tightly across his shoulders. "Biggs," he answered briefly, starting to open cabinets and drawers. "Biggs isn't very big is he?" "No. Ginny, where is that bowl the peas were in? We need it out in the barn." "You watched me put it away." She pointed to a high shelf. "Remember?" "Oh yeah." He turned to her mum. "Will I see you later?" Mum smiled at him. "I'll stay until we have this potion finished. Did you contact a Healer?" "He'll pop in tomorrow," Harry replied, tucking the bowl under his arm. "See you later then," he said to both of them. Ginny looked at her mother after Harry left and shook her head. "What is it with men? Or boys? Why can't they ever find anything?" "Sweetheart," she sighed, "when you discover the answer, write it in a book – you'll make loads of galleons." * Ginny stirred the red liquid three times, anti-clockwise. "Ok – now. It says to turn down the flame to three quarters of its original height." This was the part of potions Ginny always hated, these fussy details. "Like that?" "Excellent," Mum said. "In twenty minutes it should be done." Ginny joined her mother at the table. "Harry is looking better," Mum observed. "I think he likes it here." "I think he likes anywhere he's away from those Muggles," Ginny replied. "Where is he sleeping? I noticed there is only one other bedroom when I went to check on Martha." Ginny decided that her mother really didn't need to know about the sleeping arrangements of the first night. "Um, he's over in the manor house." "So that's why you wanted that charm from Percy!" "I really didn't know how else to contact Harry." Ginny wondered why Percy thought he should discuss her writing to Harry with Mum. Unless Percy thought Ginny and Harry were writing like he and Penelope used to write.… "What did Percy tell you?" "He told me that you wrote asking for instructions for the memo charm. The way you wrote it, Percy was convinced that you and Harry were a bit more than friends," she said with raised eyebrows. "Harry and I are friends," Ginny said quietly. "I know that," Mum said. "But why did you let Percy think otherwise? Percy has no idea that Harry is here with you." "He doesn't?" Ginny's stomach lurched. "Don't you trust Percy to know?" "Of course I trust him," Mum answered indignantly. "No one knows Harry is here except for the guests at Harry's birthday party. It's better that way." She looked Ginny in the eye. "I want to know why you gave Percy a mistaken impression." Ginny stared into her mother's eyes. Mum wasn't going to like her answer since Mum had always stood up for Percy. But she couldn't think of any other explanation except for the truth. "I wanted to see if he had really changed – especially toward Harry." Mum crossed her arms and frowned. "So this was a sort of a – test?" she asked in a low voice. Ginny suddenly felt horribly ashamed. Who was she to judge Percy when she had made so many mistakes her first year? "I told Fred and George this and I'll say it to you, too." Mum put her hands flat on the table and leaned forward. "If you are going to test someone, then you have to know what you are prepared to do – if they pass the test – or – if they fail." Those words lingered in the quiet kitchen. Percy had passed the test. He had given his implicit approval for her to write to Harry. She knew what that meant coming from Percy, who had always protected her in his own overbearing way. What if Percy had been a prat about Harry? Would she have turned her back on her own brother? She closed her eyes, realizing how thoughtless she had been in devising such a test in the first place. At least Percy had come through for her this time. "I reckon tests really aren't such a good idea," she admitted to her mother. "No – that's not what I meant," Mum said, more softly this time. "I just think that before you are prepared to judge – you must think things through." Then she smiled wryly. "I can't talk either, Ginny. I've made snap judgments that I've later regretted. I was cold to Aunt Martha all these years because my feelings were hurt the first time I met her. That wasn't very mature of me." "Did she talk to you about that? Just now?" Ginny asked, marveling that she was having such a candid discussion with her mother. "Yes, it was like…" Mum hesitated. "Like she wanted to clear the air and set things to rights once and for all." Ginny felt her stomach drop. That sounded so final, like Aunt Martha thought she was going to die soon. Mum looked around and sighed. "I remember the first time your father brought me here. I thought it was the most marvelous place I had ever seen. That password – the white women of the well – it captured my imagination. I don't know why – I don't even know why it's the password – since I've never seen a well around here. "I have – I found the well." "You did?" Mum asked quietly, not appearing overly surprised. "What is it, Mum? Did you know I could do that?" "I did – Bill and Charlie told me how you found the spring that time. You didn't even have a wand then. I don't know if you remember it." "I remember we all got in trouble for some reason," she replied, frowning. Mum gave a short laugh. "Because you came back sunburned. They didn't say the Umbra Charm correctly over you. And they should have known better to watch out for their sister." For the first time Ginny considered what it must be like to be the older brother – in charge and responsible. And what it must be like to fail.… No wonder they didn't take any chances with her when she wanted to fly or play their games. "Oh, Mum – they were just children themselves." "Some days I wonder if I ever did anything right – was I too hard on some or was I too lenient on the others?" She said this more to herself than to Ginny. Ginny was at a loss. She didn't know what the right answer – or even if there was one. "Well," Mum said briskly. "I think your potion is done. And it is the perfect shade of scarlet." "Thanks for helping, Mum." "I enjoyed sitting here, watching you," she said, smiling. Harry returned with the bowl. Ginny wrinkled her nose – he smelled like alcohol. "What exactly were you doing with that?" "Oh! We filled it with brandy – trying to lure a Porlock out of hiding. Biggs says brandy is their favorite thing." "Did it work?" "Yeah," he grinned, rinsing the bowl out and spattering water all over the floor. "Now it's passed out in the straw." "Why did you need a Porlock anyway?" He gave the bowl a casual swipe with the dishtowel and put it on top of the sideboard. "It was hurt – and they're very shy of humans – so we had to get it drunk." He started looking through the cabinet. "Do you know where those ginger nut biscuits are?" "In the tin on the second shelf," Ginny answered, exchanging an amused glance with her mother. "Milk?" Harry asked. Ginny went over and poured him a glass of milk and put the bowl back in the right place. She was starting to sympathize with her mother wanting to do everything herself. Harry took his snack to the table and addressed her mother, "So, was there a lot of damage done at the Burrow?" Mum shook her head. "There was. And the insurance company wasn't going to cover any of it. Said we didn't have a Death Eater Rider on our policy!" "A Death Eater Rider?" Mum waved that away. "It didn't matter since it wasn't Death Eaters who ransacked the house. They were Lucius Malfoy's men. Thanks to your Full-Body Bind, Harry, the Aurors found them in the house and took them in for prosecution." She beamed. "So the insurance company is paying for everything. We've had tradesmen in all week. They even replastered because there was so much spell damage on the walls. I'm afraid Sir Crackpot has finally left, Ginny." "Oh!" She felt a little downcast that her friendly knight was gone. "Did you know that Ginny found the well?" Harry asked to change the subject. "She told me. I didn't have a chance to finish telling her about the white women." "Weren't they the birch trees?" Harry interrupted. "I don't know." Mum looked startled. "I always assumed that they were real women – witches pure of heart and courage with great power. That's why I named Ginny, Ginevra." Harry stared across the table at Ginny. "I didn't know that was your name." "It's not something you bring up in casual conversation." She felt embarrassed for some reason. Ginny had heard the story before, but was afraid Harry would think it silly, or even worse, terribly inappropriate for her. "So I looked through all the name books and I found Guinivere, which means white woman. But I didn't like the nickname Gwen – and then I saw this lovely Latin name – perfect. Of course Bill came along and we didn't need a girl's name." She giggled. "I finally got my wish the seventh time around!" Harry smiled at her mother fondly. "I always hoped that Ginny would be a Healer – that's one of the meaning of 'white woman.' It would be wonderful to have a Healer in the family – so useful really," Mum mused. Since Harry had seen her fall completely apart after Aunt Martha's and Lotty's accident today, that seemed ludicrous in the extreme. "I don't want to be a Healer, Mum!" Her voice was sharper than she intended. He looked across the table at Ginny again and smiled in sympathy. Mum patted her on the knee. "I know, dear." She stood up stiffly. "I don't know when I've had a more relaxing afternoon. I'll just nip upstairs with a dose of potion for Martha. Bottle the rest, won't you dear?" While Ginny attended to the potion, Harry sat at the table idly chewing on a biscuit. "What did you make?" "A poppy draught." "That's a difficult one – you must do well in Potions." "I would, if I dyed my hair a different color and changed my last name." "How 'bout a new Potions Master instead?" Ginny giggled. "All problems solved." * The three of them stood together on the soggy path as Mum squinted at the parchment containing the instructions for Disapparating. "I've never seen anything so complicated," she said impatiently. "Still, it's good to know that you're both safe here." She hugged Harry and kissed him on the cheek. Ginny thought she whispered something in his ear, but she wasn't sure. Whatever happened, Harry looked pleased. Then she hugged Ginny tightly and whispered, "I love you, darling. Stay safe." Ginny could feel the lump growing in her throat. She hated to say good-bye at the best of times. Her mother wiped a tear from her eye and then Disapparated with a tiny pop. Ginny stood, bereft, staring at the spot her mother had been just seconds ago. This place – this beautiful tranquil place that seemed like home this morning — felt alien again. Then she felt Harry's warm hand envelop hers. "You've had quite a day, haven't you?" She didn't look at him, she didn't reply. She just moved closer to him and placed her head against his arm – that dratted arm that had plagued her the first night. Now she wished it would just move and wrap around her shoulders. "Draco Malfoy has a small Animagus!" Her head snapped up and her eyes opened wide in astonishment. "You've been mucking around with my project!" she accused. Harry was trying hard to keep a straight face. "No – what ever gave you that idea?" "Because that was not the phrase I was going to teach it!" She started to laugh. "And I know what you were going to have that Jarvey say was small about Draco Malfoy." "You mean like his mind?" he asked innocently. "No – I mean what you blokes –" Ginny stopped, embarrassed. Harry laughed. "Well, that goes without saying." * Aunt Martha was at her cranky worst the next day. She was impatient with Ginny helping her to dress, angry she couldn't hold her wand properly, and she patently refused to see a Healer. After Aunt Martha finished complaining about the dampness of the weather at the breakfast table, Ginny was sorely tempted to dump the bowl of lumpy porridge on to her aunt's head…. The porridge was lumpy because Lotty was not at her best. The elf's wincing shuffle seemed to irritate her aunt more than anything. Ginny was never so glad to see Harry as she was that morning. Aunt Martha was glad to see him too. "Harry, I want you to escort me around the estate today. The first thing I'm going to do is give Biggs a piece of my mind for contacting a Healer. I haven't had a Healer in a hundred years. Why should I now?" Harry sat at the table, not saying anything – just letting Aunt Martha go on and on. This technique would have infuriated Ginny, but seemed to work with her aunt. By the time Harry was scraping his porridge bowl, Aunt Martha had run out of steam. "Are we flying?" he finally asked. Ginny couldn't believe he was falling in with this foolish plan. "Harry," she hissed and jerked her head for him to join her at the sink. "She should be resting!" she whispered furiously, putting her hand on his arm for emphasis. "Not flying around the estate." Harry looked over at Aunt Martha and then bent to talk into her ear. "She's going to drive you mad if she doesn't leave the house." His breath tickled her ear in a very strange way…. "A relaxing broom ride won't hurt her. And she'll feel more in control if she can yell at some more people." He was right – or maybe he wasn't – she couldn't think straight when he was so close.… "Ok – but no more than a few hours." He grinned. "I'll have her back in one piece. Why don't you do something fun while we're away?" Ginny almost said that standing toe to toe with him discussing an old lady was fun – but that really didn't make much sense. "I don't know," she began inanely. "Maybe we can do something together when you come back." She didn't know what she said to make him look so suddenly happy – like she had just handed him the Quidditch cup or something equally nice. Unless… it made him happy that she wanted to spend time with him? Her eyes widened and then she blushed – a full-scale, tomato-red, Weasley blush. For some reason, he looked even happier – although he didn't tease her about the blush. "We could work on your Patronus," he suggested casually. Ginny was disappointed that he wanted to practice Defense Against The Dark Arts. But then she remembered Aunt Martha's suggestion about the Patronus Kiss.… "Oh!" He wasn't suggesting… Was he? Then she blushed again. "Think about it," he said with another dazzling grin. As Ginny watched the two of them take off on Aunt Martha's Oak Shaft, she knew that was all she was going to think about this morning.
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