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Author: TheGov Story: Defining the Relationship Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 35 Words: 162,112
A/N: Well, I garnered 1077 votes in my race for State Representative, which was good for last place. Not this time, I guess. Maybe next time. Thanks to Arnel for her brilliant beta work, and thanks to Dancinginmagic for her Brit pickiness. Special thanks to my wife, who pushes me to keep writing, even when I’m not sure I’m feeling like it, and for all her support in my recent quixotic little quest. -- -- -- -- “So, Harry,” Doctor Berger said, leaning back in his chair and looking at Harry over the rim of his mug. “Do you feel like we’ve made any progress?” Harry tilted his head back and forth, considering the doctor’s words. “I think…I think it helps to put a name to it,” he finally said. “It’s not like I’m wandering around alone out there anymore. It’s quantifiable.” Berger nodded. “That’s not an unusual feeling, Harry,” he said. “There are a lot of people who have these reactions, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not bad. What’s bad is trying to deal with it on your own, because it only makes things worse.” Berger paused. “Have you talked to Ginny about any of this?” Harry rolled his own mug between his hands. “Sort of,” he said. “To be honest, Doc, she’s not quite sure how to deal with it. You have to understand, Ginny, and her family, are pure-blooded wizards. They know nothing about Muggles, or their treatment methods, and they don’t try to understand.” Harry shrugged. “I think it’s stupid myself, that they couldn’t survive outside of the wizarding world, but there it is.” Harry paused again. “I’ve been talking about it with Remus,” he said. “Remus spent some time living as a Muggle, and he understands a little better.” “It’s good that you have someone to talk to,” Berger pointed out. “But if you’ll excuse a little free, unsolicited relationship advice, it would be good to sit down with Ginny and try to make her see that this isn’t just…oh, my fiancé’s moody, no this is real. It’s a sickness, the same as a cold. It’s just in your head, not in your nose. But we’re treating it, and you will get better.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, I know. It’s just…” “Hard, I know,” Berger finished for him. “You know, if you like, you could bring Ginny sometime,” he said. “Maybe it would help her to understand.” Harry nodded, not quite knowing what Ginny might make of that. “I’ll pitch the idea to her, see what she thinks.” “Just give it a try,” Berger encouraged. “The worst she’s going to do is say no, right?” “Right,” Harry conceded. He looked up at the clock. “’Bout that time,” he said. “Same time next week?” Harry said. Berger nodded. “Same Bat time, Same Bat channel.” “Huh?” Harry looked at him strangely. “Never mind,” Berger said, sadly. “Before your time, Harry. And in a different country at that. I’ll see you next week.” “Right, see you, Doc.” -- -- -- -- “So he wants you to bring Ginny, what’s so bad about that?” Remus asked. “I don’t know how Ginny will take that idea,” Harry said, twisting Remus’s captured bishop in his hands. “I mean, you know how badly Muggles and Muggle science are misunderstood by purebloods.” Remus nodded. “But Ginny’s always been very open minded. She tries to understand.” “I know,” Harry sighed. “I’m just not sure about it, that’s all. They’re very old fashioned, you know. People should deal with their problems and all that.” “I’m not sure you’re giving Ginny enough credit, there, Harry,” Remus scolded gently, taking Harry’s rook. “I think you’ll find most of your friends have wanted you to open up about yourself for a while.” The room was quiet for a while, just the ticking of the old grandfather clock while Harry contemplated his next move. “I know,” he said, finally, moving his knight to threaten Remus’s queen. “I just worry that she’ll somehow think less of me.” Remus rolled his eyes at him. “Harry, I somehow don’t think that’s going to happen. Look at who we’re talking about: Ginny. Ginny never saw you as this mighty, heroic figure. Ginny always saw you as Harry…that scrawny friend of her brothers, who, wait for it, just happened to save her life. At least once.” Remus paused. “I think Ginny knows you better than any of the others. Better than Hermione, better than Ron. She watched you, Harry. Really watched you,” he explained. “Which is why, of course, everyone knew you were perfect for each other, but that’s not my point.” “What is your point?” Harry asked. “My point is I think she’ll understand better than you think.” Remus took a sip of his butterbeer. “And besides,” he said, “She’s probably got some demons of her own that she should deal with.” Harry looked up sharply. “What do you mean by that?” Harry asked. “She’s had a rough time too,” Remus replied. “And then there was the Chamber.” Harry paused, butterbeer halfway to his mouth. Why am I always forgetting about that? he asked himself. “Oh.” “‘Oh’ is putting it lightly, I think,” Remus said sardonically. “I mean, somebody who was possessed by the soul of the Dark Lord has no reason to have any mental issues, right?” Harry glared at him. “I get the point, old man, you don’t have to rub it in.” Harry sighed heavily. “I’ll try,” he promised. “I just don’t know when.” “As the poet said, gather ye rosebuds while ye may,” Remus said. Harry looked at Remus askance. “What are you on about?” “What are they teaching you nowadays in that school of yours?” Remus asked rhetorically. “Obviously not enough.” “Then do something about it, old man,” Harry suggested. “I seem to recall you have some pull in that department.” “Hmm, you’re right, I do. I’m also beginning to regret my choice for Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. No respect for his elders, that one.” “Sack him, then. I dare you to find someone else between now and start of term…in, say, three days,” Harry said, raising his eyebrows in challenge. Remus glared at Harry across the chessboard. “Take all the fun out of teasing you, why don’t you?” he said finally. “It’s my job,” Harry said. He glanced at his watch. “I should be going. I’m trying to put myself back on the Hogwarts sleep schedule.” “Not a bad idea,” Remus said, rising and picking up two empty butterbeer bottles. “Are you ready for the start of term?” “Nearly,” Harry said. “Few more things I want to take care of. I could start now I suppose, but I want all my ducks in a row and I have the time to take care of it.” “Proper prior planning and all that rot,” Remus nodded. “Good for you, Harry.” “It’s a little bit scary how much I remind myself of Hermione lately,” Harry said, following Remus out to the kitchen and depositing his empty in the rubbish bin. “That can happen,” Remus said, chuckling. “Yeah, well…” Harry shrugged, a tad embarrassed. He clapped Remus on the shoulder. “Take care, Uncle Moony.” “You too, Harry. I’ll see you at the welcome feast if not sooner.” Remus smiled. “Looking forward to it,” Harry said as he took a handful of Floo powder from over Remus’s mantle. “Professor Potter’s rooms!” he called out, and stepped into the fire. -- -- -- -- The next morning Harry was in his office, working out more details on his lesson plans. Ginny had come over the night before and announced that she had found an invitation style she liked. Harry had agreed with her that the style was a compromise between frilly and simple, and she had left this morning early to order them before going to work. Harry was glad she’d spent the night last night; he was having trouble sleeping, with pre-term jitters. Ginny had told him he would be fine, and that being nervous was normal. McGonagall had likewise assured him that this was case. Hagrid had been very supportive, telling him stories from behind the scenes of Hagrid’s first year as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. “Harry?” Hermione’s voice called. “Yeah?” Harry said, without looking up from his paperwork. “I’m going to get a bite to eat at the Three Broomsticks,” Hermione said, standing in his classroom doorway. “Want to join me?” Harry looked at his wristwatch. “That’s actually not a bad idea,” he said, rising. “I’ve got to swing by the bookstore anyway, so I’ll meet you there.” Hermione smiled. “I’m going to walk as far as the Apparition boundary,” she told him. “I need to try and slim down this figure of mine again.” “I’m sure Ron, doesn’t care, Hermione,” Harry pointed out. “But I’ll walk with you.” “Oh, I’m sure,” she said. “But it makes me feel better,” she told him as they began to walk out of the castle. “So are you ready for the first day?” “Well, I’m nervous,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t sleep for days before hand,” Hermione told him. “You seem to be doing just fine, Harry.” “Well, I appreciate that, Hermione.” They chatted about their classes as they approached the boundary, and then Apparated down into Hogsmeade. Harry appeared outside the bookshop, promising Hermione he would meet her at the Three Broomsticks in a few moments. He went in to look for his book. -- -- -- -- Hermione enjoyed the summer air as she waited for Harry. The weather had been beautiful lately, and it made her anxious for the start of term. It was this kind of weather that made her think of school and the good times she’d had. She wandered down the street a little, enjoying being outside. She greeted a few of her neighbours and the people she knew. Just then a little boy came running up to her. “Please ma’am, please come here, my sister’s hurt!” he tugged on her robes. “Where is she?” Hermione asked. “This way!” The little boy beckoned. -- -- -- -- Harry had been on his way up the road when he saw Hermione go running up an alley. What in the…? Harry thought. He’d seen her go after a little boy. Something didn’t feel right about this, and Harry ran after her, drawing his wand. -- -- -- -- “Where is she?” Hermione asked again. “This way,” the boy said. He disappeared around the corner. She turned the corner, and the boy was gone. “Little boy?” she called. She was suddenly nervous. “So we meet again, Mudblood,” the voice behind her was cold as ice. She froze. “Turn around slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them. Do as I say and you might live a little longer.” Hermione thought quickly. She was trapped in the alleyway. Malfoy was between her and the only exit to the alley. She turned slowly. His face was scared, and distorted by the full beard and moustache he now wore. But his eyes were as cold as ever, and his voice hadn’t changed at all. “I see you haven’t changed much,” Draco drawled. “Still as horrid and ugly as ever,” he taunted. “And you’ve packed on the pounds, I see. It’s a wonder what Weasel ever saw in you.” Hermione’s face burned red with anger and embarrassment. “And as arrogant as ever, charging in to save the boy’s poor sister.” Malfoy waved a hand, and the boy appeared, face blank. “Isn’t it marvellous what you can do with the Imperius Curse, these days?” Draco said in wonderment. “What are you going to do with me?” Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice level. She thought of Ron and Charlie. I’m sorry…I’m sorry. I should have known… “What is this? Fear? From one of the great Gryffindor Four?” Draco asked tauntingly. “Oh, now I remember. You’re just worried about what might happen to your precious husband and your little half-blood brat. Don’t worry, Professor,” Draco spat. “I haven’t forgotten them. I’ll deal with them, eventually.” He smiled, “But first,” he raised his wand, “Cru…” “Hermione, duck!” Harry roared, stepping around the corner. “Expelliarimus!” He bellowed, but his warning to Hermione had cost him precious time. Malfoy dove out of the way. A flash of angry red light shot out of Malfoy’s wand and hit Harry in the shoulder, and he groaned in pain, falling towards the ground. “Stupefy!” Hermione aimed the curse at Malfoy, but he was gone, Disapparated. “Harry!” she shrieked. “Are you alright?” Harry was gripping his shoulder, blood oozing between his fingers. “It was a stabbing curse,” Harry groaned through clenched teeth. “It’s deep.” “Don’t move Harry, I’ll get help!” She ran out to the street. Harry gritted his teeth. Damn Malfoy. Damn damn damn…he’s not afraid to try something bold. Someone needs to warn Ginny. Hermione came running in with help, “Professor Potter, don’t move,” a familiar voice said. “Madam Pomfrey?” asked weakly. “I happened to be in the right place at the right time.” “Harry, I’m so sorry!” Hermione bawled. “This is all my fault!” Hermione was in tears. Madam Pomfrey clucked. “This is bad. We’ll need to get him to St. Mungo’s,” Madam Pomfrey said. “The curse will need to be broken before we can heal it up.” “How do we get him there?” Hermione asked. “Portkey,” Madam Pomfrey replied. “I’m authorized to use one to get to St. Mungo’s for emergencies,” she said. “Find me something, ah, Hermione, that old shoe.” Poppy pointed. Hermione took the shoe and handed it to Poppy. “Mobilicorpus,” Poppy said, waving her wand. Harry felt himself rise off the ground. “I can walk,” he protested. “No, Mr. Potter, you don’t move,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Here,” she conjured a bandage. “Hold this tight against the wound.” She helped Harry push it against the wound tightly. “It will slow the flow of blood.” “What can I do?” Hermione begged. “Harry, I’m so sorry!” “You can stop apologizing,” Harry said at once, “And someone please go find Ginny, and get her somewhere safe.” “It would perhaps be best if you went for the authorities, Hermione,” Madam Pomfrey pointed out. Hermione nodded, and Disapparated. Several other wizards chose that moment to appear, drawn by the commotion. “Mr. Potter, are you alright?” he recognized the man as one of Madam Rosmerta’s barkeeps. “I’ll be fine, Hank, I will,” he assured him. Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at the shoe. “Portus,” she incanted. “The boy!” Harry cried, remembering. “Someone go get the boy. Malfoy used the Imperious Curse on him.” The crowed tittered, and two or three men went around the corner toward the deepest part of the alley. They appeared a moment later with a young boy, with a pale face and sunken eyes. He had a glassy expression on his face. Madam Pomfrey tisked. “Hold him here for the authorities,” she ordered. “He’ll be fine for now.” She handed Harry the shoe. “Ready Mr. Potter?” Harry nodded weakly. He really was in a lot of pain. Madam Pomfrey counted down from three, and Harry felt a familiar nauseating tug at his naval, and the world went black. -- -- -- -- Ginny was pinning up a bulletin board in her classroom, and humming happily to herself. She always enjoyed the start of term. A new start, a new group of children she could help mould and prepare for life. She loved the smell of the chalk and the sound of quills scratching on parchment as the children learned their basic letters and maths. It was very rewarding. At this level, she wasn’t all that much different from a Muggle primary school teacher, because she never really taught any magic. But she enjoyed it, and she was looking forward to the arrival of students the next day. The door to her classroom opened, and her headmaster walked in. “Hello, Mr. Byron, what can I do for you?” “Miss Weasley, there are some people here to see you,” he said. “Oh?” She looked up curiously. Tonks, followed by two Aurors she didn’t recognize appeared in the doorway. “Tonks? What’s going on?” Ginny felt her stomach drop out. “There’s been an attack, Ginny,” Tonks said gently. Ginny put her hands to her mouth. Oh God…Harry. It has to be Harry. “It’s Harry isn’t it?” “He’s all right, Ginny, stay calm,” Tonks soothed her. “Harry’s okay. Malfoy tried to trap Hermione, and Harry was in the right place at the right time. Hermione’s okay, but Harry got hit with a stabbing curse. He’s got a nasty shoulder wound, Hermione says. They’re taking him to St. Mungo’s.” “Can I go see him?” “Yes, Ginny, we’ll take you to him. Harry told Hermione to have someone come make sure you were all right.” “Can we just Apparate over?” Ginny asked. Tonks nodded. “You go, we’re right behind you.” Ginny Disapparated with soft pop, and the others followed on behind. -- -- -- -- Harry was beginning to get annoyed. The mediwizards were arguing over what treatment to give him, Hermione was pacing up and down his room moaning that it was all her fault, and Madam Pomfrey was clucking over him like he was still a 1st year. He wished he could reach his wand, but someone had taken it away from him and put it on the table next to the bed. Just then, Ginny appeared. “Harry!” she cried, flying to his bedside. “Ginny, what are you doing here?” “Tonks came and told me,” she said. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine,” Harry said. “Or I will be, as soon as these people decide how to treat my wound and I stop bleeding!” he said loudly. Finally, one of the Healers came over to Harry. “Mr. Potter, there’s been some discussion about how best to break the curse. As you know, a stabbing curse creates an invisible knife in the skin, and it must be removed before we can seal up the wound. The reason we’re having a problem is we’re concerned that if we don’t break the curse carefully, you may suffer permanent damage to your shoulder muscles, thereby limiting the range of motion in your arm,” the Healer explained. “Well, now things are beginning to make more sense,” Harry said evenly. “If someone had told me that to begin with, I don’t think I would have gotten so tetchy.” “We’re quite sorry, Mr. Potter,” the Healer continued. “But I don’t think anyone realized you’d revived.” Harry blushed. “Revived?” Ginny’s eyes widened in shock. “I, well…er…the Portkey made me pass out. You know how much I hate the things when I’m healthy,” Harry admitted. Ginny shook her head at him. “So have you decided how to best handle the situation?” she asked. “We believe we have the solution, yes,” the Healer said. “If everyone would please excuse us,” the Healer raised his voice. “We can get started.” A nurse shooed them all out the door, leaving Ginny standing with Madam Pomfrey and Hermione in the hallway. “Ginny!” Hermione saw her for the first time. “I’m so sorry! This is all my fault!” Hermione moaned, and Ginny grabbed her into a hug. “Hermione, he’s going to be fine. Everything’s fine. I’m glad you’re okay.” “I can’t believe I was that stupid.” “Hermione!” a voice shouted, and Ron was tearing up the corridor. Hermione turned to face him, “It’s my fau…” that was as far as she got before Ron engulfed her in a crushing embrace, bringing his mouth solidly down on hers. Tears were running down his cheeks. “Oh Merlin, Hermione, when Kingsley found me and told me…oh, Hermione, thank Merlin you’re safe,” he finally said when they broke for air. “It’s my fault,” she sniffed. “How’s Harry?” he asked, ignoring her. “He’ll be all right,” Ginny said. “Malfoy got him with a stabbing spell, but the Healers are in there breaking it now, and they’ll have him patched up shortly.” “Good,” Ron sighed. “When can I see him?” Ron asked. “Soon,” Ginny promised. “Ron, it’s all my fault. This little boy told me his sister was hurt, and I followed him right into the alley. How could I have been so stupid?” she asked herself. “I never would have done that three years ago? Why did I do it now?” “Because you had no reason to suspect, Hermione, love,” Ron told her gently. “We didn’t realize how serious Malfoy was. We should have taken the threat more seriously. Trust me, we will now,” he said, holding Hermione tightly. “It’s as much my fault as yours,” he said. “I didn’t really believe he’d be back after he tried to get Harry. We did silly things, like improving the wards. We thought we’d hide behind them and be safe, we were wrong.” Ron said. “I’m just glad you're safe, and I’m glad Harry’s going to be all right.” “Oh, Ron, if Harry hadn’t…” “Shhhh…don’t think about it, love, shhh…” Just then there was a commotion in the hallway. “Gangway!” someone shouted, and a crowd of medical wizards burst through the doorway, pushing a stretcher. “His pulse is steady,” one of them called. “Still unconscious,” another said. “At least his heartbeat is regular,” “Who’s got the item?” “Right here,” someone else said. “100% pure silver. Good thing it only nicked him.” Everyone in the hallway froze. Ginny gasped as the stretcher went by. “Remus!” she shrieked. -- -- -- -- A/N: Yes, I know. I’m evil.
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