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Blood of the Heart by kjpzak

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“NO!” thundered Nathan, his fist slamming on the table.


“And why not?” Moody growled. “This will work.”


“No, it won’t,” Nathan snapped.


“It will,” Snape contradicted, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction at Nathan.


Nathan rubbed his eyes. His head was pounding. It was past two in the morning. He had no patience left for this. His evening had been going so well. The castle secured after the Halloween festivities, he had been set to crawl under his blankets, close his eyes and dream of how wonderful Anna had felt back in his arms. Then, the knock on his door came. And now he found himself in the kitchen of Grimmauld place.


Dropping his hand to his side, Nathan’s tired eyes looked up to meet Molly’s. From the moment he had walked in, she had coldly ignored him. That had been fine with him. He had no desire to deal with her tonight. When Dumbledore had informed the members of The Order sitting around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place of the evening’s events, she had gasped. Nathan had almost laughed when Dumbledore mentioned that Ginny had bestowed upon Harry 'Sanguis'. Molly had shot Nathan a look of pure hatred that could only be interpreted as, How dare you infect my daughter and Harry with anything! When Dumbledore had gone on to explain the blood protection and its connection to her, Nathan surmised that the Weasley blush was most likely a genetic trait.


He was most surprised, though, when he saw Molly turn to the cupboard, reach up for a small vial and pour some of its contents into a glass. She placed it in front of him and nodded. Nathan raised his eyebrows.


“For your headache,” Molly stated simply, before returning to her place beside her husband.


Nathan nodded his thanks and downed the vial, the throbbing behind his eyes lessening immediately.


“Nathan?” Dumbledore asked. “Will this work?”


“It’s not proven,” Nathan said firmly.


“This is a war, Borgin,” Moody stated. “We don’t need exact proof.”


“No, but you do need to consider the consequences,” Nathan argued. “And these consequences are too great!”


“I think you should let the Order decide that,” Snape snarled.


Nathan glared at Snape but continued. “Should the potion actually work, yes, it will cause Lord Voldemort intolerable pain.” Nathan rolled his eyes at the gasps around the table. “It would render him unable to fight back.”


“But why do Harry and Ginny need to be a part of this?” Arthur asked, his brow furrowed as he tried to grasp the ramifications of this plan.


“Their part is minimal,” Nathan continued. “In fact, it is really only Ginny who would need to contribute her blood.”


“The potion,” Snape interrupted, annoyed that Nathan wasn’t moving his explanation along fast enough, “requires bonded blood. The part of Miss Weasley’s blood that is still her own, would bond with Potter’s blood flowing within the Dark Lord.”


“Isn’t this what Malfoy tried?” Bill asked from the end of the table. “And look at what it did to him.”


“Yes, it is a form of that,” Nathan answered. “Where it differs most is in the use of the bonded blood. If done correctly, the blood will build on the Obliteration Charm my mother used. It will corrupt his body, his neve endings, his blood flow. It will cause an internal combustion.”


“Will it kill him?” Molly asked in a low voice.


“I don’t think so,” Nathan replied honestly. “But it would do serious damage.”


“Then what is your problem?” Moody said, leaning over the table, both his normal and magical eyes boring into Nathan, daring him to back down.


“My problem is if something – anything – goes wrong, the potion could backfire on us. It would be as if Ginny bonded with him, giving him all the benefits of a blood bond without the actual ceremony which he is unable to do anyway. He could force Ginny to do what he forced my mother to do,” Nathan said harshly, pushing himself up out of his seat, his eyes burning back into Moody’s. “And it will negate the blood protection she has given Harry.”


“Then we can’t do it,” Molly said succinctly.


“Molly,” Dumbledore cautioned.


“No, Albus, we can’t do this,” Molly repeated firmly, her eyes flashing. “As long as I have a breath in me, I will not let him touch a hair on my daughter’s head if I can help it. And if this won’t kill him, then the Prophecy stands true. Harry must face him. And that means Harry needs all the protection he can get. If there is a chance that can be taken away, then we can’t do this,” she argued.


Nathan fell back into his chair. He had the sudden urge to reach across the table and hug Molly Weasley, but he couldn’t muster the energy. He settled for a nod of thanks when he caught her eye. She nodded back.


“You are thinking with your emotions,” Snape scowled. “You need to think with your head.”


“Severus is right,” Moody growled.


“It is a viable plan,” Dumbledore said. “We cannot ignore it.”


“Do we have to decide tonight?” Bill asked wearily, glancing at his watch.


“No,” Dumbledore answered. “As of right now, we don’t believe Tom knows the bonding has occurred. But we cannot waste any time and we must consider it. Nathan, if you feel so adamantly against this, I would suggest you use what time we do have to look for other options.”


“Yes, sir,” Nathan answered, rising from the table. As he made his way to the entryway of the kitchen, he felt a tug on the back of his robes. Turning around, he saw Molly looking critically at his shoulders. “Molly?”


“Good night, Nathan,” she said, stepping back.


“Good night, Molly, Arthur,” Nathan replied slowly as he backed into the hall.


“Nathan, what’s your favorite color?” Bill asked, coming up beside him.


“Uh, blue,” Nathan answered, “why?”


“It’s eight weeks until Christmas; you want to protect her daughter; and trust me,” Bill said, clapping him on the shoulder, “she had the ‘olive green’ look in her eye.”


+++++



Stella Boggins sat down and surveyed her desk. Someone had touched something. She knew they had. Success was based on order and her desk was definitely out of order. Stella narrowed her eyes behind her glasses and studied her desktop. Someone…had moved…her quill holder. It should be sitting two centimeters diagonally up from her desk pad. It was now at least two and half centimeters up and slightly off to the right. Stella reached forward and moved it back. She nodded in satisfaction. Her world realigned, Stella adjusted her glasses and opened her desk drawer.


Scritch, scritch, scritch.


Stella stopped and looked down at the drawer. Did she have a mouse living amongst her parchment? Stella leaned down and squinted into the darkness of her drawer.


Scritch, scritch, scritch.


Stella popped back up. That noise wasn’t coming from her desk drawer. Perhaps under her desk? Picking up her shoes, Stella shifted her weight to one hip and leaned over the side of the chair to look under her desk. Teetering precariously, she peered into the dust bunnies.


Scritch, scritch, scritch.



Stella jerked up, her head crashing against the open desk drawer.


“Oh!” she exclaimed, her eyes watering as she rubbed her palm over her wirery gray hair that was tied neatly in a bun at the base of her neck.


Scritch, scritch.



Stella sucked in her breath. She blinked to clear her vision. She squinted at the bookstand against the wall in the corner.


The quill had moved.


Her heart pounding, Stella whipped off her glasses and quickly polished them on her robes. She placed them back on her nose and stared at the book on the bookstand.


Scritch, scritch.


Stella covered her rapidly beating heart with her hand. It hadmoved.


“Merlin’s beard,” she whispered in awe.


Stella pushed her chair back and walked slowly to the bookstand. The quill finished its final flourish and skipped to the second column. Stella waited, holding her breath as if the act of breathing would influence the movement of the writing instrument. The quill touched down and began to write again, recording the name of the second individual involved.


Stella exhaled and leaned back on her heels, contemplating the first entry in the book. She recognized the name - well, at least the last name. She then looked expectantly at the second column. Her breath caught in her throat and her face lost all color. Her eyes traveled from one name to the other. She wasn’t sure if the nervous wiggles in her stomach were from excitement or fear or both.


The quill finished the last letter and moved down to the next line, hovering in place, waiting for the next entry. Stella swallowed hard. Slowly, she reached out and plucked the quill out of the air. Placing it on the bookstand, Stella pulled the thick book toward her and read the newest entry again. Pursing her lips, she held the book on her forearms and closed it quickly. Stella sneezed as a cloud of dust arose from the pages. Sniffling, she tucked the book under her arm and headed toward the exit of the Department of Mysteries. The Minister of Magic needed to know.


After all, there hadn’t been a new entry in the Registry of Mediators for over fifty years.


And no one would ever say that anything good had come out of that bond.


+++++


“Come on, Harry! Get moving! We’re late!” Ron shouted over his shoulder as he galloped down the stairs to the common room from the boys’ dormitory, his broom clutched in his hand. “We’ve got a week until our match with Slytherin. We could use the – Ginny! What are you doing?”


Ron stopped two steps from the bottom as Ginny brushed by him on her way up.


“Ginny! You can’t go up there! Harry’s not dressed!”


“Good!” Ginny said, as she continued on up.


“Ginny!” Ron exclaimed. “You ca-“


“Oh, just shut it, Ron!” Ginny said, stopping and turning around to look down on him. “I’ll knock first. Merlin knows I wouldn’t mind seeing Harry starkers, but I have no desire to see any of his other roommates in that state, including you!”


Ron’s cheeks flared and his mouth opened in a sputter as Ginny whirled around and ran up the remaining steps. Stopping in front of the door to Harry’s dormitory, she rapped three times on the wood with her knuckles.


“Harry?”


“Yeah - Gin?”


“Are you wearing anything?”


Ginny grinned as she heard Harry chuckle.


“Sorry, I am fully dressed.”


“I’ll have to be earlier tomorrow, then,” Ginny replied cheekily as she pushed the door open.


Harry sat on his bed trying to tie the laces of his trainers without touching the newly scabbed over cut in his hand. Ginny’s breath caught as she felt pulled forward by the invisible force that joined them now.


“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Harry asked, giving up on the laces and grinning widely at her.


“Yeah,” Ginny giggled, crossing the room and sitting down next to him on the bed. “Good morning.”


“Good morning to you,” Harry replied, leaning over to give Ginny a kiss.


“YO! HARRY! GINNY! WILL YOU TWO HURRY UP! I’M STARVING!”


“RON! GO! WE’LL CATCH UP!” Ginny shouted back, rolling her eyes. “It’s a wonder Hermione puts up with that.”


“He’s got a point,” Harry sighed, his eyes returning to his shoes. “We do need to get going.”


“Here,” Ginny said, standing up and digging in her jeans pocket. “Hold your hand out.”


Harry held his hand out and watched as Ginny opened a small pot filled with a greenish looking paste. Scooping some out with her forefinger and putting the pot on the bed, Ginny gently cradled Harry’s hand against her stomach. As soon as she touched him, Harry felt warmth spread up his arm. A sense of calmness filled him; his mind felt clear and alert.


“Wow,” he breathed.


“Wow, what?” Ginny asked, her finger poised above the cut on Harry’s hand.


“Wow that,” Harry said. “You – you touched me and suddenly I feel like I could tackle the hardest potion Snape could throw at me without a problem.”


Ginny grinned and began to spread the paste on Harry’s cut. “I’m good,” she said knowingly.


Harry chuckled. “Yes, you are. What is that stuff?”


“Just something to keep the cut from getting infected. Professor Borgin gave it to me yesterday. He said the cut has to heal naturally. Any additional magic used to fix the wound might influence the bond.”


“And I take it stitches are out of the question?” Harry joked, remembering Mr. Weasley’s experience with the Muggle healing technique.


Ginny shot Harry an exasperated look and wiped the excess paste on her jeans. She then picked up a flesh colored bandage she’d placed on the bed and covered Harry’s cut with it.


“There, that should keep it protected during practice.”


“Thanks,” Harry said, inspecting his palm. “You can hardly tell it’s there.”


“I know,” Ginny said smiling. “That’s the point. But you know, Harry, we do need to tell Ron and Hermione. The sooner the better.”


“Yup,” Harry said, standing up and holding his hand out to her. “How about after practice?”


“After practice,” Ginny agreed, weaving her fingers with Harry’s. Her world suddenly felt calmer, too, almost brighter, in fact. Love was good, she thought. Very, very good.


++++


Ginny kicked off the ground and soared up, leaving the ground far beneath her feet. The cool morning breeze contradicted the sun that bathed her neck as she stretched her head back to breathe deep. She felt so light, she wondered if it was her broom that was carrying her upward or her heart. From deep inside, she felt a joyous “Whoop!” emerge. Spinning her broom around to face the middle of the Pitch, she caught Harry’s eye. He grinned at her. She grinned back and winked.


“Alright, simple drills to warm up,” Ron shouted. “Let’s start by tossing the quaffle back and forth. Kirke – you pair up with Winston. Potter and Parsons. Jack, you go with Ginny. Alright, let’s get started.”


Ron returned to the ground and tossed up a quaffle to each of the pairs.


“Hey, Ginny,” Jack said, flying in front of her.


“Hi, Jack. You ready?” Ginny asked, reaching out her hand to catch the quaffle coming at her. She winced slightly as the hard leather surface made contact with her palm.


“You bet,” Jack replied and Ginny passed the quaffle to him.


For the next five minutes, the pairs sent good natured ribbing back and forth with each pass while Ron flew in between commenting on technique or adding a good natured rib of his own. Ginny smiled as she watched her brother. As Quidditch Captain, Ron was definitely in his element. Ron had a real knack for strategy that when combined with his love for the game, gave the Gryffindor team a leader of extraordinary talent at its helm. Not that she was going to tell him that…at least not any time soon.


“Alright, now let’s get going down the Pitch,” Ron shouted as he began to fly in and out of the pairs attempting to steal the quaffle.


Setting of toward the goals, Ginny felt the sweat gathering between her shoulder blades as she flew, her eyes never leaving their target. Her temples begin to ache as she clenched her jaw in an effort to ignore the throbbing in her hand. She loosened her grip on her broom handle in hopes of lessening the pain. Even though this helped a little, she still sighed with relief when Ron shouted for them to stop. Tucking the quaffle under her arm, Ginny shook her hand, attempting to relieve the stinging.


“You alright?” Harry asked quietly, coming to a stop next to her.


“Yeah,” Ginny replied. “It’s a little tender.”


Ginny grimaced as she wrapped one hand around her broom handle. “You?”


“A little sore, but I don’t have to keep catching the quaffle. You want to take a break?” Harry asked.


“No, I’ll be okay,” Ginny said, lifting her arm to drop the quaffle into her hand.


“You sure?”


“Yeah, thanks,” Ginny replied, smiling at him reassuringly.


“Oy! Potter, you’ve got a snitch to catch. Ginny, chase something besides Harry! Let’s try some maneuvers.”


Narrowing her eyes, Ginny turned and flung the quaffle at the goalposts where Ron was hovering.


“Hey! We haven’t started yet!” Ron shouted indignantly, as he lunged to catch the oncoming quaffle.


“Sorry,” Ginny yelled cheekily back and headed to take her position.


Ron spent the next half hour putting them through their paces, reminding them all that this was his last opportunity to crush Slytherin in Quidditch. Nothing, he lectured, nothing was going to keep them from proving to the Slytherins again who truly ruled the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch.


Ginny blocked out Ron’s ongoing comments as she concentrated on working through the soreness in her hand. It didn’t seem to matter if she caught the quaffle with her right or left hand. Her gloved palm either came into contact with a speeding object or was gripped around a broom handle, rubbing up and down with each change in direction or elevation. Her jaw clenched, Ginny could feel the sweat on her brow. She squinted her eyes, trying to shut out the throbbing, willing her mind to stay on the game.


“Ginny!”


Ginny turned her head to see Sue Winston, the new third year Chaser, pass the quaffle to her. Reaching out, the quaffle slapped hard into her palm. Ginny yelped. Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes and she dropped the quaffle.


“Ginny! What’s your problem today? I know the Halloween Ball was last night, but for Merlin’s sake, get your mind on the game! What are you doing? Get back up here!” Ron yelled as Ginny landed on the ground and stripped off her glove.


“Harry, what are you doing?” Ron shouted exasperatedly, as Harry joined her on the ground. Seeing their heads bent together, not paying any attention to him, Ron flew down. “Practice is still going on, you – Ginny! You’re bleeding! What the – “


Ron looked open mouthed at Ginny’s palm which was resting skyward in Harry’s hand. The bandage Ginny had applied was twisted and half off the open seeping wound. Harry dug in his pocket for his handkerchief and pressed it to her hand.
Ron grabbed Harry’s hand and turned it palm up. Harry’s bandaged was rolled at the edges but for the most part still covering his cut.


Ron looked at Harry. He looked at Ginny. He looked up in the air at the remainder of his team.


“Practice is over! Hit the showers!” he bellowed up at them. Turning to Harry and Ginny, he scowled. “Castle. Hermione. Now!”


Turning on his heel, Ron marched toward the castle.


Still holding her hand, Harry looked at Ginny. “Well,” he said.


“Guess practice is over,” Ginny said mildly, unable to find anything but amusement in the situation.


“Yup.”


“Guess we should tell them.”


“You think?” Harry grinned.


“Yeah, I think,” Ginny giggled.


Picking up her broom and wedging it under his arm with his Firebolt, Harry tucked Ginny’s hand against his side as they followed Ron back to the castle.



+++++


“Do you think we should help explain?” Ginny whispered to Harry at the back of the Transfiguration class room.


“How long have we been standing here?” Harry asked, as Ron again passed by Hermione who was sitting in the front row of desks.


Ginny glanced at her watch. “Ten minutes.”


“He seems to be doing fine on his own,” Harry commented, leaning back against the wall and pulling Ginny in front of him, her back to his chest. Leaning his chin on her shoulder, his eyes trailed Ron. “Do you think Hermione’s mad?”


“No,” Ginny answered, folding her arms over Harry’s which where crossed around her waist. It struck her that Harry had never hugged her in any manner for an extended period of time in front of other people. She rather liked it. It certainly made watching Ron’s theatrics more enjoyable. “I think she might be slightly hurt we didn’t tell her, but – ah, see, the hands - she’s explaining to Ron that he should wait and ask us what happened.”


“Right,” Harry said, “and Ron’s telling her that he shouldn’t have to ask, we should have told them.”


“Uh-huh, and now she’s telling him that we’re standing here watching,” Ginny said, smiling and giving Ron a cheerful little wave as he stopped to glare at them, his eyes traveling over Harry’s hands on Ginny’s waist. “We should go up there,” Ginny said, reluctantly stepping forward out of Harry’s embrace. Her hand seeking his, Ginny pulled Harry toward the front of the classroom.


Ron stood there, his face glowing red, his chest heaving with frustration, his arms crossed in front of him. He opened his mouth. Hermione shot him a warning look. He clamped it shut again.


Turning in her seat, Hermione looked directly at Harry and Ginny. “So - anything new?”


Harry blinked in surprise at Hermione. Ginny met her gaze and giggled. Ron glared at her.


“Hermione!” Ron sputtered. “They – they bonded!”


“I know that, Ron,” Hermione replied exasperated, “I could have told you that last night. All you had to do was really see them on the dance floor to know something changed. And it makes perfect sense to do it on Halloween while the whole school was occupied so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Just out of curiosity, where did you do it?”


Ginny glanced quickly at Harry who squeezed her hand. “The Chamber of Secrets,” she answered.


“Huh,” Hermione said, mulling it over in her mind and shaking her head at Ron who had opened his mouth.


“We wanted to tell you,” Ginny explained, “but the fewer people who knew the better.”


“So who knew?” Ron asked perturbed.


“Professor Borgin, Dumbledore, Snape…” Ginny answered.


“And Miss Patterson,” Harry added, “or is it Mrs. Patterson? Mrs. Borgin?”


“She told us to call her Anna,” Ginny reminded Harry.


“Right,” Harry nodded. “Just seems odd to call a professor’s wife by her first name.”


“Hello?” Hermione said, waving at Harry and Ginny. “Why couldn’t you tell us?”


“Oh, sorry,” Ginny apologized. “Remember the book Harry was reading at Catarina’s?”


“On blood protection?” Hermione nodded.


“Yeah, what my mum was researching,” Harry confirmed. “Turns out she sent some of her research to the author of the book, Anna’s father.”


“Anna’s father wrote about blood protection?” Hermione repeated impressed.


“He wrote about a type of blood protection called Sanguis,” Ginny said. “It is the blood protection that is passed on from mother to child in the womb. When a blood bond is performed, the protection is weakened because the blood is altered.”


“So does that mean Harry isn’t safe at the Dursely’s anymore?” Hermione asked, putting two and two together.


“Not as safe as he was,” Ginny nodded.


“Where will you live?” Ron asked, his concern mixed with hope at the prospect of Harry living anywhere but the Dursleys overriding his anger.


“With Ginny,” Harry said seriously.


“WHAT?” Ron yelped.


“Does your bond with Ginny give you the same protection?” Hermione asked curiously.


“In a way, yes,” Ginny answered. “Harry is now protected by the blood protection that mum gave me. It flowed through me to him when we bonded, and is actually stronger because we love each other. So as long as we’re living under the same roof, he’s protected better than ever. Professor Borgin felt it best that we not tell anyone because so much was riding on the bonding being successful. If we had been interrupted…” Ginny’s voice trailed off.


“Ron, I’m really sorry,” Harry apologized. “It’s just –“


“No, I get it,” Ron said, waving his hands in front of him. “I get it. I just got a little wound up when I saw the blood.”


Untangling her fingers from Harry’s, Ginny stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her brother. She stood on tip-toe to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.


“It’s okay, Ron,” she answered. “I know you were just concerned with my well being.”


“Uh, well, no,” Ron answered sheepishly, “I was worried about your flying. You’re game was really off up there, Gin. I mean, if you’re going to play like that on Saturday, Harry here has got to catch that Snitch in two minutes flat otherwise we’ll never live it down – oof!”


Ron doubled over as Ginny socked him in the stomach. Stretching her hand, Ginny turned it over for inspection.


”How’s the hand, Gin?” Harry asked, trying not to grin at Ron and failing miserably.


“Loads better, thanks.”



“You got him, Hermione?” Harry asked as he placed an arm around Ginny’s shoulder.


“Unfortunately, yes,” Hermione said, shaking her head at Ron who’d fallen into a seat beside her.


“Have a little sympathy, will you?” Ron complained. “It’s Slytherin!”



+++++


“When?”


“According to the letter, the registration needs to take place within a month of the bonding,” Dumbledore answered, his eyes scanning the parchment on his desk. “Poppy can draw the blood.”


“Do they both have to go?” Nathan asked, his fingers rubbing his temples in hope of relieving the dull ache that had started to throb there.


“Yes,” Dumbledore said, looking up at Nathan and Snape who sat on the opposite side of his desk in his office. “According to the letter, since both of their names appeared in the Registry, they are both required to go to be tested.”


“Can’t they do the testing here?” Nathan asked desperately.


“I’m afraid not,” Dumbledore replied, folding his hands on his desk. “However, if there is a bright spot in all of this, once Miss Weasley is registered, she will be granted legal status. In other words, she will be considered of age at the time she registers in the eyes of the Ministry.”


“Antiquated old law,” Nathan fumed.


“Antiquated, perhaps, but necessary,” Snape sneered, his eyes clearly saying what his words didn’t.


“Severus, leave my mother out of this,” Nathan snapped.


“Gentlemen!” Dumbledore interrupted, his voice rising.


“They are required to turn in a vial of blood,” Snape reminded them, his eyes narrowed on Nathan.


“Yes, they are,” Dumbledore confirmed. “And,” he continued, pushing away from his desk and standing up, “that leads us to another issue.”


“He will know. He will find out,” Nathan sighed heavily.


“We knew this was bound to happen,” Dumbledore said.


“Tell him we have the potion,” Snape said.


“No,” Nathan snapped.


“We don’t have a choice,” Snape argued.


“Severus, you know the consequences!” Nathan shouted, dropping his fists onto Dumbledore’s desk with a thud.


“It is our best option,” Snape growled. “The Order –“


“NO!” Nathan pounded his fist on the desk, his face flushed with anger. “The Order hasn’t decided anything. This isn’t our best option! If this potion were to go awry, it could backfire on us. Instead of permanently maiming Voldemort further, it could remove the blood protection, it could make him stronger than ever, it cou –“


“It could do serious damage to the Dark Lord,” Snape sneered.


“Gentlemen!” Dumbledore shouted into their midst. “Sit down!”


His chest heaving, his fists clutched in his robes, Nathan clenched his jaw shut and sat. Snape’s nostrils flared as his lip curled and he sat also, glaring.


“Sir, we just need some time,” Nathan pleaded, turning to the Headmaster.


“We don’t have time,” Snape said scornfully.


“Severus is right,” Dumbledore replied. “Time is not something we have in abundance. Nathan, I know you would like to find another way to put Voldemort out of commission, but he is going to find out. We need to have something ready that will keep you safe. The registration must take place within a month. I will contact the Ministry and see about getting the registration put off until the last possible minute. Harry and Ginny’s bond will be stronger. You will have time to come up with an alternative option. In the meantime, you will need to tell Tom the news as soon as possible. Ginny’s name appeared a week ago. I am surprised if he doesn’t already know.”


“Is there anything else, sir?” Snape asked, standing up.


“No, not at this time,” Dumbledore replied wearily, sitting down himself behind his desk. “Good luck to your house in today’s match, Severus.”


Snape inclined his head and turned to exit. Nathan pushed himself out of the chair and met the Headmaster’s gaze.


“I don’t like this, sir,” he said quietly.


“I don’t either,” Dumbledore replied, his eyes saddened and dull, “but as of now, it is our best option.”


Nathan sighed and nodded. “Sir? Since she will be considered of legal age by the Ministry, I think it would be a good idea for Ginny to obtain her Apparation license while she is at the Ministry.”


“That is a good idea, Nathan,” Dumbledore nodded, picking up his quill. “I will make the arrangements. Any thoughts on where she should practice?”


“Yes, Sir, I have one,” Nathan replied, flushing slightly. “It will require some safety measures be put into place, though.”


“Very well,” Dumbledore smiled, a little of the twinkle coming back into his gaze. “I will see to it that proper arrangements are made to get Miss Weasley there and back safely.”


“Thank you, sir,” Nathan said before turning around and striding to the door.


“Work fast, Nathan,” Dumbledore called softly to his retreating back, “work fast.”


++++++


The magnified voice boomed up at Ginny as she flew down the Pitch. Over the past week, her hand had healed nicely. While still sore, the extra wrappings she had put on it before the match were helping her fly without worry.


“AND GRYFFINDOR SCORES! SUE WINSTON PUTS THE QUAFFLE THROUGH THE MIDDLE HOOP! GRYFFINDOR FIFTY; SLYTHERIN TEN.”


Ginny held out her hand as Sue flew by. “Nice one!” she shouted as she gave her fellow chaser a high five.


“Thanks!” Sue shouted back.


“Gin!”


Ginny stretched her hand and grabbed the incoming quaffle out of mid-air. Drawing it to her, she leaned over her broom handle, weaving in and out of the pursing Slytherins.


“Libby!” she shouted and passed the quaffle.


“Gin, watch out!”


Ginny rolled to the side as Jack Sloper few in front of her, beating the oncoming bludger out of her way.


“Thanks!” she shouted.


“No problem!” he shouted back grinning as he flew in the direction of Harry.


Harry circled the Pitch, his eyes scanning for the Snitch. He hadn’t seen it since the game started twenty minutes ago. The wind whistled by his ears as he shot down the field looking for a flash of gold. He leaned forward, urging his Firebolt forward when a sudden force slammed into his side, sending him careening off course. Gasping for air, he rolled his broom, swinging back upright to come face to face with Draco Malfoy.


“Sorry about that, Potter,” Malfoy sneered as he pulled up.


“What? Couldn’t stop in time on that Nimbus?” Harry taunted as he set off back down the Pitch.



“You’ll pay for what you did to my broom, Potter,” Malfoy yelled, diving after him.


“I didn’t touch your broom or your robes or your bed,” Harry shouted.



“OH! AND MALCOM BADDOX, SLYTERHIN’S CHASER, GOT ONE BY WEASLEY. TEN POINTS TO SLYTHERIN.”



“You’re going down, Potter,” Mayfoy leered, his fingers subconsciously leaving scratch lines through the salve covering the still healing ant bites on his face as he sideswiped Harry.


“No, I’m NOT!” Harry shouted, kicking his foot out and making contact with Malfoy’s broom.


Malfoy rolled. Harry pulled his Firebolt up and around. His eyes caught a flash of gold, hovering right above Stidham, a Slytherin Chaser who was taunting Ron by the three hoops at Gryffindor’s end of the field. Adrenaline flowing freely through his veins, Harry pushed his Firebolt forward, Malfoy on his tail. Malfoy inched closer, pressing his shoulder into Harry’s side, pushing him toward the stands. Harry’s eyes stayed glued on the Snitch. Malfoy grabbed the front of Harry’s robes and pulled. Harry shoved back and shot forward.


Balancing on his broom, Harry stretched one hand out for the Snitch, the other shot out to the side, shoving Malfoy away. Malfoy grabbed his broom handle to catch his balance. His hands, coated with salve, slipped. Harry’s fingers closed around the fluttering wings and he drew the Snitch into his chest. He noticed Malfoy waver. Harry whipped his Firebolt around, the end catching Malfoy square in the chest. Harry watched as Malfoy’s arms flailed, his broom falling out beneath him, his robes snagging on the end hoop. Malfoy hung in mid-air, looking like a child’s plaything with a string to pull that sends the arms and legs flailing.


“AND POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS BY A SCORE OF 200 PLUS ONE SEEKER TO 20!”


“Malfoy,” Harry shouted above the din, as he heard the stitching on Malfoy’s robes begin to give way, “I told you I wasn’t the one going down.”


Engulfed in teammates, Harry missed the look on Malfoy’s face as the seams gave way and the Slytherin Seeker fell to the ground.


+++++


“Professor Borgin?”


Nathan looked up from the pile of books on his desk to find Ginny standing in the doorway to his office.


“Ginny! Come in. What are you doing here? I would assume you’re missing quite the celebration in your common room right now,” he surmised, dropping his quill and sitting back in his chair.


Ginny nodded and stepped carefully into the office. It appeared as if some of Hagrid’s Nifflers had been set loose in the room. The normally neat and tidy workspace was in total disarray. Books were open on every surface and wads of discarded parchment were strewn across the floor. Ginny looked up in concern.


“Is everything alright?” she asked, stopping so as to not step on anything important.


Nathan grimaced as he ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t want to ruin today for Ginny. A Quidditch win was an occasion for celebration, especially when it was against your arch rival.


“Research, Ginny,” he replied truthfully. “What has torn you away from your festivities?”


“This,” Ginny said, leaning forward and stretching out her hand. “It came this morning.”


Nathan pushed himself out of his chair and reached for the roll of parchment. Unrolling it, he noted the Ministry seal at the top and sighed.


“You know about it?” Ginny asked, interpreting Nathan’s reaction correctly.


Nathan nodded and motioned toward a chair across from his desk. “Just move the books to the floor. Yes, I found out this morning from Professor Dumbledore. The Ministry sent him a similar letter, too.”


“What does it mean when it says Harry and I need to register?” Ginny asked, scooping up the books in the chair and placing them on the floor at her feet before sitting down.


“It means you have to sign the official registry. I had no idea there even was one. My mother never mentioned it to me.”


“She never said anything to me either,” Ginny said.


“It also means that your blood needs to be on file for testing purposes,” Nathan said, rolling up the parchment and handing it back.


“Exactly what are they testing for?” Ginny asked suspiciously.


Nathan smiled. “They just want to make sure you’re truly bonded. I’m assuming it’s because they want to weed out the imposters. Did Harry also receive a letter?”


“I think so. We didn’t have time this morning before the match to talk and I don’t want to ruin his evening right now,” Ginny replied.


“Yes, I understand I missed quite the finale,” Nathan commented.


Ginny giggled. “Yeah, it was something.”


“Ginny,” Nathan said, sitting up straight, his expression growing serious again, “there’s something else you should know. Now that you are bonded, Tom will find out.”


All humor faded from Ginny’s face as she realized the position that Nathan now found himself in.


“What will that mean for you?” she asked quietly.


“I need to tell him you bonded before he finds out from another source.”


Ginny bit her bottom lip and nodded in understanding.


“Professors Snape and Dumbledore and some of The Order members believe if we are able to convince Lord Voldemort that your bonding is beneficial to him, he is less likely to harm anyone involved,” Nathan said quietly.


“How are you going to do that?” Ginny asked skeptically.


“By telling him there is a potion using your bonded blood that will be as good as bonding with you.”


“But, won’t Harry and my blood – isn’t that what Lucius Malfoy tried to do?” Ginny asked confused.


“Sort of. Lucius needed your blood only, not your bonded blood. However, there is another potion my father wrote of using bonded blood that when combined with Voldemort’s should do him considerable harm. It is similar to a blood boiling potion.” Nathan paused and looked down at his fingertips tapping on the surface of his desk.


“But?” Ginny asked, sensing there was more to it.


“But if the potion does not work properly, it could negate the blood protection you have given Harry. It could make Tom stronger than he ever was. It would allow him to use your bond against you.”


“Oh,” Ginny breathed, her eyes wide, her face pale.


“Ginny, it would also be as if you bonded with Tom, himself.”


“But I’m already bonded!” Ginny answered.


“But if Harry were to die…” Nathan’s voice trailed off.


“Oh,” Ginny whispered, horrified at the implications of what wasn’t said.


“As of right now, Professor Snape and Dumbledore think approaching Voldemort with the idea of there being a potion using bonded blood that would be beneficial to him is our best option, seeing as you are already bonded, and he’s going to find out at some point in time.”


Ginny’s eyes traveled to Nathan’s bookshelves, scanning the contents but not really seeing them. “And you?” she asked quietly.


“I think we need to keep looking for other options,” Nathan sighed heavily, “but I’m not sure there are other options out there.”


Anger began to boil up within her. Did anyone even think of asking her or Harry? It was, after all, their future, too. At what point in time did she get to have a say?


“Your mother doesn’t want to do it, either,” Nathan said, resting his hands on his desk. “It’s just not a good idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve got to find another way.”


Ginny studied Nathan for a moment, noticing the darkness under his eyes and the slump of his shoulders. This wasn’t his idea. They were on the same side.


“It’s alright,” she said softly, rising from her chair. “We’ll do what we need to do. Harry and I will go and register. You will tell – tell him what you need to. And we will find another option.”


Nathan raised his head and met Ginny’s eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly.


“You’re welcome,” Ginny replied.


“Oh, and Ginny, there’s one more thing,” Nathan said. “While you’re at the Ministry, it would be a good idea to see about getting your Apparation license.”


Ginny’s eyes lit up. “Really? But I’m not of legal age,” she said, her excitement fading. “And where am I supposed to practice? I’m not good enough to walk in and just do it. Merlin knows where I would end up!”


Nathan grinned. “Well for starters, once bonded and registered, you are of legal adult status in the eyes of the Ministry and magical communities, so congratulations. Secondly, as far as practicing goes, no worries. I’m putting you in good hands. I happen to know another witch who had similar difficulties with her own Apparation exam. Lousy sense of direction. Failed twice before she got the hang of it. You’ll be fine.”


Ginny giggled. “Really? Well, thank you, Professor.”


“No problem, Ginny. Now, go! Celebrate. You deserve it!”


“Thanks!” Ginny replied and headed out the door leaving Nathan staring at the books in front of him.


Determinedly, Nathan picked up his quill and flipped a page in the book in front of him. He was going to find another option. He had to.


+++++


Ron had been giving them funny looks since she came back from Professor Borgin’s office, but Ginny didn’t care. As she had walked back to Gryffindor Tower, Ginny had felt a restless need deep inside to touch Harry. It wasn’t that she wanted to snog him senseless. She just needed to touch him. When she had crawled through the portrait hole, she was pulled by their bond to his side. Harry smiled at her, wove his fingers into hers and held her by his side as he laughed and joked and retold the story of hanging Malfoy out to dry for the zillionth time. A sense of calmness flowed through her. Ginny’s mind began to mull over the implications of what Borgin had told her.


As the celebration wound down, Harry tugged her over to one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace, sitting down and pulling her into his lap. Ginny leaned against him, tucking her knees under her chin, her head on his shoulder. Harry wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes, and smiled contentedly into her hair for a minute before pulling back.


“What’s wrong?” he asked.


“Hmm?” Ginny said, her mind going fuzzy as she relaxed.


“You’re bothered by something. I can tell,” Harry said a little surprised. “The ribbons turned different colors.”


“Really?” Ginny said, feeling a little more alert and sitting up. “That’s new.”


Harry snorted. “Yeah, you could say that. So, what’s wrong?”


“Here,” Ginny replied, digging the letter she’d received from the Ministry out of her pocket. “You probably have one, too.”


Harry nodded. “I did get something this morning. Hedwig dropped it on my bed since I wasn’t at the breakfast table when she arrived. I haven’t read it yet. Can I read yours?”


Ginny nodded and rested her head on Harry’s shoulder as he read. When he was done, she explained what Professor Borgin had told her. Closing her eyes, she saw Harry’s tenseness, the ribbons tightening, changing, then relaxing as she leaned her head on his shoulder. She felt Harry take a deep breath before replying.


“Well, it doesn’t sound like we can get out of it, and getting your Apparation license is a good thing.”


“What if Professor Borgin doesn’t find another option?” Ginny worried.


“I don’t know, Gin,” Harry replied thoughtfully.


“I just wish we could help him with his research.”


“Maybe we can,” Harry shrugged. “Maybe we just have to ask.”


Ginny sat up and looked at Harry in mock surprise. “Harry Potter, are you suggesting we actually go to the library and do research? I think I have to call Hermione over and tell her this!”


“No! Don’t do that!” Harry said, catching Ginny’s hand which she’d raised partially into the air. “Ron’s finally occupied with something other than us and I’m not going to take away the thing that’s occupying him!”


Ginny giggled. “Good point,” she said, snuggling closer. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”


Ginny smiled as she felt Harry nuzzle her neck, a warm sense of rightness filling her. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift off to the rainbow of colors dancing behind her eyelids, all melting together toward the boy who held her in his arms.



++++


A/N – And here we go again…


Thanks to wvchemteach and to Anya – without you, this tale would have ended long ago!


The next several chapters are under review by my beta but I can’t guarantee when I will have them back. As soon as I get them, I promise to post them!

Thanks for reading!