Based on the Harry Potter Series By J. K. Rowling
Chapter 33 “ Home Again
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“Dear, is Harry feeling alright?”
Ginny knew that would be the first thing her mum said when she and Harry moved back to the Burrow Wednesday evening. For the past 24 hours she and Harry had scrambled to collect their belongings from her dorm, Harry’s room, Harry’s office (which still stank) and a few left over and stored items from the Hogsmeade house. Harry and Ginny only had Ron to help Floo everything, one piece at a time, to the Burrow.
Authorized Portkey administrators had just started being assigned Wednesday morning. That would, eventually, help the situation caused by the apparition failures, but many people disliked Portkeys and stuck with the Floo network. The Ministry announced price freezes on Floo powder at pre-Saturday levels, but powder shortages could not be legislated away.
Late Wednesday evening, Harry was in the parlor reading the Daily Prophet when he overheard Ginny talking to her mum about his “condition.” He felt a little humiliated, but could not muster the energy to move out of ear-shot.
“Mum, Harry isn’t in good shape. We’re lucky school is out indefinitely, he needs to rest and relax.”
“I haven’t seen him look like this since Sirius died, is he holding things in again?”
Molly was genuinely concerned, but Ginny, as usual, felt she was butting into her business.
“Mum, Harry and I had a big fight the other day. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it. But we were at St. Mungo’s yesterday and…”
“Harry was in the hospital?”
“NO! Well, yes, but not as a patient. He was visiting Percy and that other boy. He went over there right after our row. Madam Windshine walked in on him and was afraid he was going to do some harm to himself.”
Molly gasped at her daughter’s news. It was difficult for Ginny to admit this to her mother; she felt it was as much her fault as Harry’s. Molly just looked stricken.
“Mum, Harry’s under treatment for depression and exhaustion, and part of the therapy is, um, I have to work with him an hour each morning and evening.”
Molly knew that her daughter had many gifts a Healer has, but she was unaware that Ginny had started any formal training or work.
“What sort of work do you do with Harry, dear?”
“There are two procedures. The first is called ‘Composite Counseling.’ It’s the same as general clinical counseling except it’s done during a mind probe. Don’t look like that mum, it’s safe. I can’t probe anywhere beyond Harry’s conscious mind. It’s also short in duration, just 15 minutes each session. It’s better than general counseling because the patient cannot unintentionally put up psychological barriers.”
“Ginny, where did you learn this? Counseling is usually a Muggle practice.”
“Yes, well, maybe that’s part of Harry’s problem. All those years he spent with Muggles.”
Ginny knew this was an over-simplified explanation, but she had not told her mother about the other therapy yet.
As if on queue, Molly asked, “What’s the other therapy?”
“It’s a more intimate process of relaxation therapy, and fairly new, but it has the advantage of not using Potions or complicated spells that may have side affects.”
Ginny had a feeling, based on the look her mother was giving her, that she already did not like the procedure. Ginny continued, at some point her parents would know about it.
“The procedure is like the ‘Composite Counseling’ except the patient and therapist are not restricted by a Healer/Patient code of ethics. It’s used a lot in marriage counseling and for, um, other marital problems, but what I’m doing is much shorter in duration.”
“Has it helped Harry so far?”
“Some, but mum, Harry is still carrying a lot of baggage around with him. When these problems erupt it’s not pretty. The only reason I’m doing it, and not a professional in a controlled setting, is because of our established relationship, I mean, what happened with us after Harry destroyed Voldemort. You mentioned to me last summer about how Harry and I were ‘one’ that week at the hospital. It would take a professional years to establish that sort of trusting relationship with Harry. And besides, I want to do it.”
Ginny smiled at her mother with this last comment, but there was one more thing to add.
“Also mom, Harry and I have to do this in a place where we can have quiet and are able to relax completely. Until today we’ve been using Harry’s bed. NO, we are not, so don’t look at me like that. If you want, we’ll elope and spare you the embarrassment.”
Ginny was tired of everyone’s preoccupation with sex. The only two people she knew who were not, were herself and Harry.
“I see. Well, you can move into your old room and Harry can have Ron’s. He won’t be…”
“No, mum. I want Harry to have Bill’s old room. We do this first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I don’t want either Harry or I falling down the stairs.”
Molly watched her daughter silently for what seemed a long time. The magical clock in the kitchen captured her attention as it struck ten o’clock. Everyone’s “hand” was pointing to “Safe” except Percy’s and Harry’s. Percy’s pointed to “Recovering” and Harry’s pointed to “Troubled.” Looking back at her daughter, Molly smiled weakly and nodded. “Take Harry to bed, dear. Good night.”
“You know, Gin, this is the first time you’ve done this to me when I knew it wasn’t just to be near you.” Harry’s voice was flat, lethargic, and faintly disinterested. Whether this was due to being at the Burrow or because of their fight, Ginny did not know. What she did know was that for the next sixty minutes Harry could experience happiness and safety, something the end of the war still had not given him.
“Lay down, love, just like Monday night. I’m with you; I’ll always be with you.”
Harry followed Ginny’s directions and felt her left arm slip under his left arm. Then her right arm slipped between his right shoulder and head, and her hands joining on his chest. Remembering how he was drawn to Ginny’s eyes at the hospital the day before, Harry let himself sink into a place where only they would exist, if only for a short while.
Thursday morning Ron was having toast and juice with Hermione before they both set off for Dover. Having nothing to do, and the Quidditch season now cancelled, Ron thought he’d hang around with Hermione for the day and visit the Cliffs.
“Ron, you know you can’t go into the restricted area, right?”
“Yes, Hermione, you told me that already. I have a book and a map, I won’t be bored.”
“Patty and I will come up for lunch, if we don’t see you at my desk I’ll assume you went out, ok?”
“Yes, Hermione, we talked about that already.”
“And don’t forget to sign-in and sign-out, the security there is pretty tight.”
“Yes, Hermione, I remember you telling me.” Ron gave Hermione an exasperated look. “And, yes, you’ve told me what time of the month it is.”
“Well, I just think our marriage would be better if you understood the biology, Ron.”
Ron stared at Hermione, his lips pursed out in frustration. “Ok, you’re right.” Desperate to change the subject, Ron noticed Pig’s cage was open and the owl was missing.
“Where’s Pig? I haven’t seen her today.”
“Oh, sorry, Fred asked if he could borrow her for the day, George is using Lucy for business mail.” The twin’s business was still having trouble, even four months after the problems of 9/19. Fortunately the booming business of the previous two years would carry them through at least another six months, George calculated. “Longer if you stop dating rich women.” Ginny told them.
“Yes, but the potential payback was worth it.” The twins insisted.
“Right then, whenever you’re ready,” Ron flopped onto the sofa.
“Ronald!”
Rising from the sofa, Ron carried his dishes over to the sink. “Sorry, Hermione.”
An hour later, Ron was sitting at Hermione’s desk, reading a Muggle novel Fred had given him. Hermione and Patty were heading down to the cave with the notes Keric Albemarle had given them when they first started on the project.
“I don’t know, Hermione, why would the author use such a complex cipher? In those days even simple codes were all they needed. Are we missing something obvious?”
This was the start of their third straight day trying to work out the embedded code of the two parchments. Hermione was wracking her brain for any idea. Patty insisted that they work on it a couple more days before involving their boss, but she was now indicating it would be necessary.
“Hmm, DaVinci used a mirror and wrote backwards.”
“I already tried that. You should have seen the looks I got in the loo. It was the only place with a mirror large enough to see a full line.”
That earned Patty a rueful laugh from her partner.
“Right, but it’s unlikely a mirror was used for this, the best they had sixteen hundred years ago was polished metal.”
A few steps further down the hallway, Patty stopped. “Atbash!”
“Who?” Hermione asked, seeing Patty’s expression of amazement.
“Not ‘who,’ Hermione, ‘what.’ Atbash is an ancient code developed in the Middle East. It’s simple but effective. You use a straightforward reversal of letters in the alphabet. For example, in English, an Atbash translation would involve exchanging "A" and "Z", then "B" and "Y", then "C" and "X", and so on.”
Patty picked up her pace like a bloodhound on a scent. Reaching the “cave” first and going straight to a dry erase board, Patty took a marker and started writing the alphabet.
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
“Now we reverse the alphabet, adding a second line.”
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Z Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A
“See, Hermione? Look here. A simple work like ‘DOG’ would have an Atbash translation of ‘WLT.’ Let’s look at a few lines and see if I really am a genius!”
Fifteen minutes later they each had two lines of letters decoded, but they still did not make any sense. Again, both took a copy of the key, a line of code, and a Latin-English dictionary and tried again.
“I don’t know, Hermione, this feels right but still doesn’t make sense. Look at this line.”
Hermione walked to Patty’s desk and saw her translation.
VCM RSMOLX XTXMX Words from the document.
XFN UVNRMZ ZWZNZ Atbash translation.
“Not a good start, is it?”
“I’m seeing the same thing. Damn, I was so sure you were correct. What we need is a fresh set of eyes.”
“Do you want to ask Ron?” Patty suggested.
“No, Keric would freak out. Let’s stay in-house.” Returning to their desks, Hermione went through the code, one letter at a time. After a few minutes she shouted, “I got it!”
Patty ran to Hermione’s desk this time and looked at her translation:
VCM RSMOLX XTXMR Words from the document.
XFN UVNRMZ ZWZNI Our initial translation
CUM FEMINA ADAMO Correct translation
“How did you do it?” Patty asked.
“We both made a very simple error, Patty. The Roman alphabet does not use the letters J, K, U, Y, and Z. And the Latin ‘V’ doubles as a ‘U,’ removing these letters from our original cipher we see this.”
Hermione pulled out a piece of paper with three neatly printed lines.
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Our alphabet
Z Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A Bad Trans
X W V T S R Q P O / / N M L I H G F E D / C B A / / Good Trans
“Do you see? The first word is ‘CUM,’ Latin for ‘with.’ We saw this on the rune as VCM and translated using the full alphabet as ‘XFN.’ It’s no wonder we couldn’t understand it. The entire phrase is: CUM FEMINA ADAMO, or I fell in love with a woman.”
Hermione looked back to Patty, smiling. “Ready to get to work?”
“Woohoo! Hermione, you’re my hero!”
Laughing, Patty hugged Hermione and they started to split up the text to decipher and translate. Working through the morning and into mid-afternoon, Patty and Hermione had been able to decipher both of the pages to Latin. Next was the Latin to English translation.
“Damn!” Hermione shouted, “I forgot Ron was upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
Running up to the first level, she found her cube empty, but Ron had left a note.
Hermione, I’m off to the cliffs, there’s Chinese in the ice box if you want it. Back about 4. Ron
By the mess on her desk, Hermione could tell that Ron had eaten in her cube. On her way to the kitchen, Hermione walked by Patty’s desk and saw mail in her “In Box.” Grabbing the mail, the leftovers, and a couple plates and forks, Hermione ran back down to the cave. She almost ran into the clean room with the food but caught herself and motioned for Patty to join her outside.
“Hope you like Chinese, ugh, Ronald, what did you buy?”
Both Patty and Hermione looked suspiciously into the box and decided they were hungry enough to risk proceeding. Dishing out the beef and broccoli with some sort of brown sauce on it, the girls sat down to eat.
“Oh, here, I almost forgot. This was on your desk.”
Hermione handed Patty the envelope.
Patty took a bite of her food, opened the envelope, and starting to read the letter. Hermione heard Patty produce a choking sound and looked up in time to see her spit a mouthful of food onto the letter she was reading. With a look of horror on her face, then surprise, Patty next began laughing.
“Hermione, you’re not going to believe this.”
Wiping the letter off with her napkin, Patty held the soiled correspondence up, waving it in the air.
“This is a letter from an acquaintance of mine, and yours, asking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”
Patty started laughing again, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Who is it?”
Hermione was immensely curious. Patty was smart, and a warm, caring person. She would be considered “pretty” if she made an effort, but she was not “beautiful.” Glad that someone had noticed her truly important qualities, Hermione now wanted to know who it was.
Patty was still shaking her head as she handed the letter to Hermione.
Hello Patty,
I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Ron Weasley’s brother, Fred. We met at Ron and Hermione’s wedding last month. I’d like to take you to dinner this Friday evening. If Pig (the owl) is not there when you receive this, would you please let me know you answer through Hermione and Ron?
Warmest Regards,
Fred Weasley
Weasley Wizarding Wheezes
127 Diagon Alley
London
“Well, what shall I tell Fred?”
Hermione was still trying to determine if the letter was an honest offer. The hesitation was evident in her expression.
“You don’t think I should, Hermione?”
“Honestly Patty? I don’t know. I saw Fred watching you at the wedding, but I also know he’s been seeing someone for a few weeks.”
The way Hermione said “seeing” gave Patty the impression that Fred was doing more than seeing this other woman.
“Would you like me to talk to him and be certain...”
“NO, Hermione! I was just wondering if you knew something I didn’t.”
Patty looked like she was going to turn the offer down.
“Patty, go for it. I mean it. You’re a strong person and you’ll be able to handle Fred. Deep down he really is a very good person, but he likes to act up when he’s around George, which is all the time. Get them apart and he should be fine. I think you should also know, Fred has a reputation as a, uh, well, he likes...”
“He sleeps around?”
Hermione nodded, embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, Hermione, I already heard that one at the wedding. I’m not as worried about that as being labeled one of his ‘conquests.’”
“Then don’t be one, Patty. No one can take advantage of you without your permission.” Hermione said earnestly, and as a friend.
“Eleanor Roosevelt said that. Well if it’s good enough for Eleanor it’s good enough for me.” Laughing, Patty returned to her lunch.
“Want me to let him know?”
“No, thank you. Can you teach me how to Floo him?”
“Sure, we can do it before we head out tonight.”
“Thanks. This stuff is horrible, what is it?” Patty said as she spat a bite of food into her napkin.
“I’m beginning to wonder myself. Don’t eat it if it’ll make you sick.”
Chucking her paper plate into the dust bin, Patty headed back to the cave.
“I guess I’ll save my appetite for tomorrow.”
Over the last two hours in the day, Patty and Hermione worked on the documents. Patty would translate from Rune to Latin; Hermione from Latin to English, but her Latin skills were lacking and the progress was slow. A number of times Patty heard Hermione emit a noise she could not identify. Around 5 o’clock, Hermione finally spoke up.
“Patty? You need to see this. And are the originals still in the copier?” She pointed to a machine that looked like a large Muggle copy machine.
“Yeah, they stay there until we sign them back. Whatcha got?”
Patty saw that Hermione had finished a good deal of the translation for the first sheet, though there was a large area in the center of the document she had not worked.
Asking Hermione about this, she replied, “I stopped when I discovered the subject and author.”
Patty could not read Hermione’s expression.
“Well? What’s the secret?”
Hermione pointed to the lower right corner of the document then to her work sheet, there were ten rune letters with the Latin letters below.
SFQI MSFNOL
ERGO MERLIN “ I am Merlin
“I think we need to see Keric.”
“Peter, Severus, when I was in my twenties I decided to have children. Not knowing if they would be born with the powers I had, I made further accommodations; I created curses that would evenly divide my powers between however many children I had. I fell in love with a woman and asked her to marry me. She was a peasant girl I knew from my time north of London, of good stock, and smart. My first attempts to enchant her were failures, and frustrating for me. She was afraid of me and my powers, so I would take her out and show her things I knew; I even taught her a few basic incantations for protection.”
“This woman had a name, it was Maris, and it meant ‘of the sea’. Over a few years I convinced Maris that I was good. I converted her family and healed a number of her friends. Gradually, over time, she came to trust me, though even today I’m not sure if she truly loved me.”
“Maris was only twelve years old when we had first met. Returning to the area near London I found her again when she was sixteen. We were finally married when she was eighteen and I thirty-one. Our relationship was not easy and I often found myself having to go to her family and bring her back to me. But she was able to give me something I wanted more than anything: Children.”
“Our first two children were twin boys named Stefen and Galen. The birth was difficult and Maris nearly died. I tried many incantations to help but what ultimately saved her was her will to live and raise her children. When we again found ourselves expecting children, only two years later, Maris gave me another set of twins, Hannah and Renae. This time Maris was able to bring our children into the world without trouble. Considering the health and hygiene issues of the time we were exceptionally lucky.”
“I had to make a difficult decision early in the children’s lives. Knowing that they could have powers like my own I felt they should be raised away from the larger towns and villages. I told Maris that we must return to my cave near Carlisle and raise the children there until we were certain about their powers. To say Maris did not like this idea would do her injustice. We fought for weeks about the move and I relented, but only temporarily, until the weather moderated in June.”
“As June approached, Maris became more confrontational and ultimately she refused to move. I reminded her of our agreement but could not convince her. Fate ultimately decided the issue when plague struck and took the life of my wife. For many weeks I felt guilt because I could do nothing to save her, but having sole care of four young children prevented me from dwelling on the issue. I packed our belongings, hired two wet nurses to travel with me, and made the long journey north for the third time.”
“Settling outside of the cave in a beautiful valley turned out to be a good decision. On the trip north I had spoken with the nurses and told them about my plans for a home. They convinced me that the cool, damp environment of the cave would not be good for the children until they were older. My plans again altered, we found a small town nearby, and over the next year built a comfortable hovel. Bartering my healing services for assistance, we continued to add on to our meager home until it was more suited for seven persons.”
“By now the boys were five years old and starting to exhibit some signs of power. I knew we should wait until they were nine before committing to a long life in the cave, and the girls were only three, so we continued our simple life, waiting for the children to grow.”
“One pursuit I had abandoned during the years our children were young was my devotion to Joshua, whose name was now more commonly accepted as Jesus. The anger I had built toward him years before still sat, simmering inside me, trying to find a vent. For months I attempted to justify my approach to converting the pagans, but guilt and frustration would hinder any progress. I still preached occasionally to the town people, but their interest in Christianity at that time and in that part of Britannia was low. Their Celtic roots were ingrained by generations of Druid mysticism and even my works of healing could not convince many. This pigheadedness, on both their part and mine, led to a serious rift that ultimately doomed all my conversion attempts and sentenced me to this existence.”
Snape and Peter waited for Merlin to continue his story but saw he was thinking about something troubling. Snape sat quietly, observing Peter as he struck up a conversation with the old Wizard.
“Merlin, did you stop believing in Jesus?”
“No, not as a being. I did believe he was working against me at times. With the powers I had, and others I later learned about, I could not understand why he made my efforts so difficult.”
“What did he do to you? I mean, to make your work difficult?”
“Peter, he did nothing at all. Unfortunately it took me a lifetime to learn that. By the time this realization had sunk into my thick skull, I had started something I could not changed.”
“Christians believe that you can always change.”
“Yes, but the problem was not me, it was what I had set in motion; that was a thing, and by its nature I could not change it. This is difficult to explain, but it’s also part of the story, and the story is nearly complete.”
“Your children,” Snape now asked, “they are significant and part of our history about you. Will we learn about them, too?”
“Yes. Very soon, Severus. I sense you already suspect their place. I will confirm it.”
“Merlin?” again Peter spoke up. “What will happen to Percy? I don’t expect there’s anything in the story about him, is there?”
“Peter, Percy’s destiny is determined by his choices, but he still has choices to make and his fate incomplete.”
This seemed to cheer Peter up. The suggestion that Percy had choices to make implied he would be consciously able to make them. Snape just sat and continued his pensive gaze at Merlin.
“Now, for the last part of story.”
“Good morning, love. How are you feeling today?” Harry felt wonderful, just as he did whenever he woke with Ginny holding him. A peaceful night surrounded by the intimacy of sharing thoughts made the day look promising.
“Mmm, don’t go, please.” Harry turned around and held Ginny close, stroking her hair, nuzzling into her neck and shoulder.
“You haven’t been this happy for a while,” Ginny whispered into his ear, adding a little nibble to his earlobe.
“Keep that up and you’ll see just how happy I can be.”
Both their laughs were deep, and loving. Harry reluctantly broke away and walked to the window to see what the weather looked like. Sunny, that was obvious. We must have slept in a bit.
“Gin, let’s go out today, you and me. Just walk around forever…” Harry was looking at Ginny with an almost dreamy look; happy, content.
“Forever is a long time. How about another trip to London? I have to meet with Olga at eleven. Would that be ok?”
“Sure, but we better hurry, it’s half ten now.” Harry was pointing to the clock on the dresser. “We could save some time by showering…”
“Together, Harry? I think mum would frown upon that.”
“Uh, actually, I was going to say shower after we got back.” Harry’s mouth had said one thing while his eyes suggested another.
“Yes, Mr. Potter, we’ll shower when we get back. Would you go down and start some toast, please?” Before Harry could even answer, Ginny had run out of Harry’s room into her own.
“My, don’t you look rested today. How did you sleep, Harry?”
Molly was cleaning the breakfast dishes and doing odds and ends around the kitchen.
“Thanks, mom. I feel great today. I’m going to make Ginny and me some toast, then we’re heading to London for a bit.” Harry walked over to the bread tin and tried to decide if he wanted two slices of regular bread or one slice of thick.
“That’s a big decision, Harry.” Molly joked, watching him look back and forth between the two bags.
“Yeah, it’s amazing how little things can be so baffling right after waking up.”
Opting for the thick slice, Molly took it from Harry and started toasting it.
“I can do that, mom. You’ve been working all morning.”
“Harry, dear, this is what I do. Now sit down. Coffee, tea, or cocoa?”
“Tea today, thanks. Oh, hi Gin.”
Ginny finished the last two steps down the stairs in one leap and ran over to Harry, sitting beside him.
“Why so dressed up, Gin?”
“Hmm, no reason, I just felt like it. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Maybe we should go shopping a bit later, I probably need something better than this old stuff.” Touching Ginny’s leg under the table, they found each other’s hand.
“Sure. We can go to Diagon Alley, but their selection is a pretty limited. Oh, mom, who carries Floo powder?”
“Most of the stores in the Alley have it. If it’s not displayed, just ask for it. Here’s your toast and cocoa, Harry.”
After serving Harry and Ginny, Molly piddled around in the kitchen for the next few minutes, finished her cleaning, and then started dusting the parlor. A few minutes later Harry and Ginny got their things together and Floo’d to St. Mungo’s.
“Hello, Ginny, Harry. How are you two doing today?” Olga greeted them in her reception area and then ushered Ginny into her office while Harry made himself comfortable reading a Quidditch magazine.
“Well, Harry looks splendid today, Ginny. I take it his sessions are going well?”
“I fell asleep during our evening session last night and neither of us woke up for almost twelve hours.” Ginny felt ashamed admitting this to Olga, but she was also curious about how her teacher would react.
“You might want to schedule your evening sessions earlier, and on a sofa or comfortable chair, like you did at Ron and Hermione’s house. What you did was neither wrong nor dangerous; you could equate your extended treatment to a Muggle slightly overdosing on a pain killer or anti-depressant. You don’t want Harry to be on an artificial ‘high,’ he needs to learn to create that happiness within himself, by himself. Your role is to show him what it can be and ease him into a lifestyle change that will keep it going.”
Ginny felt overwhelmed by Olga’s evaluation of her actions. “I had no idea.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Ginny. You’re seventeen and I’m over a hundred. My experiences outdistance yours.”
The way Olga said this made Ginny feel completely at ease. It’s amazing how she words her answers to my questions!
“Now, about your other project. What exactly would you like to do?”
The explanation was quite simple, really; the treatment more problematic. Olga offered a number of possible solutions and they soon settled on a course of treatment.
“Ginny, you do know what this means for you personally, don’t you?”
Ginny nodded solemnly.
“Have you talked this through with Harry? He will be affected by this also.”
Olga could tell by the look on Ginny’s face that she had told no one.
“Then, Ginny, I need to know why this person, and I need to know why doing this right now is so important.”
“Olga, you’ve trusted me with Harry’s care, why do I need to explain this?”
“Ginny, you’re being obstinate and that is most definitely not a good attribute for a Healer. You know why the two patients require completely different consideration.”
Olga was watching Ginny very carefully, wondering if her faith in the teen was misplaced. On her part, Ginny was curious why Olga did not know the answer to her second question, which would explain the first one also. Ginny reached across Olga’s desk and offered the Director her hands, the universal sign among Healers that they wanted to share something too important or too complicated to put into words.
Olga considered the gesture but was deeply moved when she sensed that Ginny made the motion without knowing why she had done it. Still another sign of a gifted Healer. Taking a deep breath, Olga accepted Ginny’s hands and saw the answers clearly.
“Oh, Ginny.” Olga released her hands, and pulled her own to cross her chest. “Couldn’t see the forest for the trees? An apt metaphor. My dear girl, how long had you suspected?”
“Then you think I’m right?” Ginny asked hopefully.
“I can’t see another explanation, but I suppose there is always a chance.” Olga’s face said there almost certainly was not.
Ginny proceeded to answer Olga’s earlier question.
“Late last year, but last week convinced me. I was hoping I was wrong, but part of me wants it to be true, also. You would think this is something I’d lose sleep over, wouldn’t you?”
That comment received a smile from Olga. “I don’t know what to think, to be honest. And you’ve shared this with no one?”
“Who would I tell? Harry? He has enough to worry about, and it’s not like he could do anything about it. But maybe I can! It would be a small gesture, but it might help smooth out the shock.”
Olga sighed heavily, fighting back tears, suddenly wishing she had not enjoyed the long life wizards and witches do. It was not the first time she had felt that way, but it would be, almost certainly, the last.
“Go. Start now. I would only caution you about raising anyone’s expectations. The changes will be hard to hide.” Rifling through a small file drawer in her desk, Olga extracted a faded manila envelope and handed it to Ginny. “I haven’t had much need for this in a long time. You might find some of the notes helpful. Oh God, Ginny, I see what you mean by not knowing how to feel. Be careful my child, you are truly gifted.”
Rising, Ginny walked around the other side of the desk and embraced Olga. “We probably won’t need to talk any more, Ginny, but my office will always be open if you need me. Good bye, child.”
Touching Ginny’s cheek, Olga sat back down and stared into nothing.
Harry was starting to zone out, watching the pictures on the walls of Olga’s sitting room. Beaches, miles of white sand, palm trees. Not a beach in England! He heard the office door open and saw Ginny walking toward him. Her face was difficult to read, neither happy nor sad, just…neutral.
“Hi, how was the meeting?”
Ginny stood by Harry, offering her hand which he took. Leading Harry from the office and out into the streets of Muggle London, she did not say a word for a long time.
The bustle of lunch time London diverted Ginny’s thoughts, even to the point of distracting her enough to be hungry. “Harry, let’s grab a bite then head over to Westminster Abbey, I’d like to see it again, if that’s alright with you.”
Glad that Ginny was out of the odd mood she had shown the past few minutes, Harry agreed and found a street vendor selling hot dogs and pop. Ordering for them both, Harry paid and took their bagged meal across the street to St. James Park. All the benches were full but there was plenty of seating available on the frozen grass. Eating in silence, the two finished their lunch quickly and resumed their walk.
As they approached the south boundary of the park, their destination loomed ahead. Crossing Birdcage Walk and then Victoria Street, the Abbey stood before them. However, they were distracted by distant music and announcements further down Victoria toward Parliament buildings. Ginny asked Harry if he could see anything in the distance.
“Yeah, it’s the dedication of the new Parliament building.”
“How can you see that from here, it must be three blocks down?” Ginny asked him with astonishment.
“Well, I didn’t need to see it. The story was all over the papers. Want to go crash their party?”
Harry’s suggestion was a welcome distraction for Ginny and she agreed.
The dedication ceremony was almost over when they reached a street corner across from the new parliament building. Harry and Ginny could hear the Prime Minister through the huge speakers which had been set up for a block in every direction. His booming voice drowned out the traffic noises and echoed off the walls of the few nearby buildings.
“…Finally, I would like to thank the firm of Jason and Keane for the inspirational design. As I close this dedication ceremony, let me remind each of us, no matter what party, no matter where we came from, we are all Englishmen and Englishwomen. Let us all work together as such, and for each other. Thank you.”
The crowd cheered and clapped, as much for the Prime Minister they had come to love as for his words, and the new government building. Standing on the raised base of a street lamp, Harry and Ginny could not clap with their arm wrapped around the pole to stay up, but they cheered as loudly as they other citizens around them.
“HARRY, Ginny had to yell over the noise from the crowd. “Look up on the stage. Behind Liam Keane.”
Harry looked for a moment and saw Rudy and the rest of the Keane’s standing, cheering, and waving small Union Jacks. Harry also spotted the Prime Minister’s youngest daughter as she ran from the seats to her father. Thompson picked her up, held her with one arm and helped Rebecca wave with the others. Remembering his row with Ginny the other day, he made a mental note to talk to her about the job again, but this time more calmly. Harry looked at Ginny and saw the smile on her face as she watched the scene.
“Harry, let’s move up to the front, maybe we can see Rudy and Rebecca.”
Jumping down she held out her hand for Harry to follow. Running together through the dispersing crowd they both lost sight of the Keane family as they approached the lawn in front of the stage. It was as far as they could go anyway; there was a security barrier preventing them form approaching any closer to the raised platform.
Harry was about to suggest they move on when he felt his arm nearly yanked out of his shoulder; Ginny had taken off to the left side of the stage, their right, trying to move closer. The effort to get closer was useless, but they could now see the side of the stage and the Keane’s greeting others on the stage. Jumping up and down, Ginny was waving to Rudy and calling out his name. Harry just stood there, embarrassed, his hands in his coat pocket and a silly smile on his face.
As the Keane’s finished their greetings and farewells, Rudy caught sight of a pretty red-haired girl waving from the far side of the lawn.
“Hi, Ginny!” Rudy called out, recognizing his “sister,” then he saw Harry, too, and called out to him. Rudy’s lack of decorum had finally drawn his father’s attention and Liam started admonishing him, until he saw where his son was pointing. Rustling Rudy’s hair, Liam offered Harry and Ginny a more dignified wave and mouthed, (not even trying to shout,) “stay there.”
“Harry, this is the only thing I’ll miss about school, seeing my friends. It’s odd, though, meeting Rudy here. Small world, eh?”
Ginny’s cheeks were becoming red from the cold and wind, but Harry watched her look around at all the Muggles. Small world is right. I wonder how many other witches and wizards are here with us. Harry thought.
Harry next saw Kingsley Shacklebolt walking with the Prime Minister toward the Keane’s, ostensibly to say good bye, or thank you, or both. Reaching the family, Thompson was introduced to Liam’s wife and children, and then started on his way, but Shacklebolt had stopped when he saw Harry and Ginny. Turning to look for Kingsley, the Prime Minister followed his gaze and found two familiar faces at the other end. Still holding Rebecca, Thompson pointed Ginny out to Rebecca and helped her wave as they walked on. Shacklebolt, his attention back to where it belonged, was just shaking his head.
Harry and Ginny pointed to the security exit, through which the people on the stage were exiting, indicating that they would meet them there. With a final wave, Rudy disappeared into the small mod of people leaving the ceremony.
“Ginny, I look like a slob! Rudy’s father is dressed to meet…”
“Will you stop worrying? Come on, Harry.”
Ginny led Harry off to the stage exit.
“Hello, Harry, Ginny, wonderful to see you again. I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Marge, and my daughters Margaret and Mary.”
“Hello, Harry, Ginny. Rudy speaks well of you both. Have you heard anything else about the school?”
Marge’s tone was friendly, but she looked suspiciously at Harry a couple times. The incident with Rudy discovering Fudge’s body the previous week had made a negative impression on her. Only Liam’s insistence about his character and Rudy’s stories had left her with any good thoughts toward him.
“Hi Mrs. Keane. Nice to meet you.”
Harry extended his hand and noticed a very slight hesitation before Marge took it. Ginny had already started speaking to the younger children before she stood to greet Marge.
“Ginny, I can’t tell you how much Liam and I appreciate how you helped Rudy get started at Hog…”
“Marge! Words.” Liam said, quickly cutting Marge’s comment off. It was obviously a signal Liam used if his wife slipped. Without batting an eye, Marge corrected herself.
“Yes, getting started at school. Thank you so much.”
The conversation carried on for a few minutes about school and Rudy, but Harry was interested in the new Parliament building and the part Liam played in its design. After a while, the two young girls walked off with Harry and Rudy to look at an odd modern sculpture, leaving Marge and Liam with Ginny.
“Mr. and Mrs. Keane. I didn’t want to say this in front of Rudy, but I will not be returning to school even if it does reopen. I’ve taken a job here in town. I’d like to tell Rudy myself, if that’s all right with you.” Ginny’s announcement had a visible effect on Rudy’s parents.
“Oh, Ginny,” Marge started, “Rudy will be so disappointed you’re not there. Why the change?” Liam looked at Ginny, too, as if he had the exact same question.
“Personal reasons, mostly. Probably selfish, also, but it’s something I believe I have to do. Harry and I are getting married in October and I need to get established in a job. And to be honest, Harry and I were deeply involved in the war have been surviving off adrenaline since last April. I need a change, and Harry even more so. I believe the term Muggles use is ‘burn-out’.”
When Marge looked at Liam, Ginny could tell by the surprise on her face that she had not been told about the war. “What war is this?” Ginny started to answer Marge.
“Mrs. Keane, Harry was…this is a long story. I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can go through it again.” Marge saw the shadow of grief pass across Ginny’s face and guessed, correctly, that she had lost friends and possibly even relatives in this “war.”
“No, Ginny, that’s all right. Is it over now?”
“Well, the fighting is over, but there are a lot of people like Harry who may never fully recover.” Ginny looked over to Harry and the children and wondered how true her statement was.
“I’m sorry, Ginny. Let’s not talk about it any more. Liam said he has to be careful about what he tells me of your world; I think I can see why. Let’s go over and look at that monstrosity.” Marge pointed to the sculpture the kids were running around. “Liam, how did you ever approve of that?”
“I was outvoted; it is rather gaudy, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Hermione, it does look genuine. Patty, have you checked Hermione’s translation?”
“Yes sir, but we should bring in someone fluent in Latin. I would not trust something this important to anyone.”
Nodding in agreement, Keric made a suggestion.
“Let’s do this. Patty, you and Hermione keep translating the Runes to Latin. I’ll find someone I can trust to do the Latin to English part. In the meantime, get the rest of that batch of parchments and make copies of it immediately, then return the originals. I’m going to assign a second guard to this Floor for additional security.”
Patty and Hermione thanked Keric, placed the work order for the copies, locked up their notes, and returned to their cubes on the upper Floor. Ron was in Hermione’s cube, asleep in the chair, snoring. Luckily there was no one around to hear him.
“Ron, Ron, wake up.” Hermione shook him.
“Oh, um, what? Sorry Hermione, I fell asleep.”
Stretching, Ron stood up and greeted Patty.
“Ron, I just need a few more minutes, I’ll be in the break room showing Patty how to Floo.”
Returning a few minutes later, Hermione picked up some things and walked back to the break room with Ron. Patty was just finishing her conversation with Fred when Ron and Hermione arrived.
“All set, Patty?” Hermione asked.
“I guess. It should be an interesting evening.” Smiling at Ron, Patty waved good bye and headed back to her desk.
Arriving back at their house in Hogsmeade, Hermione went off to change as Ron relaxed on the sofa, reading more of his book until Hermione returned.
“Ron, I’m going to the Burrow, I need to talk with Harry about something. Want to go, too?”
“Nah, I’ll stay and read. Want me to fix dinner? I think we still have some stew left.” Ron hadn’t even looked up from his book.
“Sure, I shouldn’t be more than an hour.” Kissing the top of Ron’s head, Hermione walked to the fireplace and Floo’d to the Burrow.
“Hello, Hermione.” Molly was working in the parlor when Hermione popped out of the fireplace. “Is Ron coming over, too?”
“No, he’s home reading and getting dinner ready. Is Harry home, I’d like to talk with him?”
“Yes, he and Ginny are up in Bill’s old room, but you shouldn’t disturb them right now, they’re busy.”
“WHAT? Hermione could not believe what she had just heard.
Molly laughed, slightly embarrassed. “Oh no, dear, nothing like that. Harry and Ginny are doing their therapy. They should be done in fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“What therapy?” Hermione started to ask, then she remembered Olga’s comments to Ginny from the previous week. “Oh, I remember. Does it seem to be helping Harry?”
“Well, he was in a wonderful mood when I saw him this morning, and this evening he appeared the same. So something’s working.”
Molly continued chatting with her daughter-in-law while they both rearranged some items on the bookshelves. Finishing there, they both walked into the kitchen for tea.
“How is the job working out, Hermione?”
What Hermione wanted to say was completely different from what she could say, so she worded her response carefully. “It’s interesting, not at all what I thought it would be.”
“That’s good, as long as you’re happy.” Hearing a muffled ring, Molly told Hermione, “There you go, that’s the bell for Harry.” Seeing Hermione’s look of curiosity, Molly added, “Sometime the therapy almost puts them to sleep, so Ginny bought a timer to let them know when they are finished, and wake them if needed. You can do up now.”
Climbing the stairs and turning down the hall to Bill’s room, Hermione didn’t hear any noise. Tapping the bedroom door, Hermione stuck her head in and saw Harry and Ginny sitting together like they had done in Hogsmeade the night Olga visited. The only difference this time was that they both were completely ‘out of it,’ sitting and smiling.
“Ahem. Ginny? Harry? The time is up.”
Hermione saw no reaction so she approached them and gently touched Ginny’s knee. Ginny’s eyes opened and her smile slowly faded.
“I guess we have to get up now, Harry.”
Removing her hands from around Harry’s chest, they saw him stir and open his eyes. But unlike Ginny, Harry’s eyes looked dark and troubled.
“Ginny, can I talk to Harry for a bit? I have to ask him something about 9/19. Would you mind terribly?”
Standing and stretching, Ginny said “sure” and took off for the loo. She had not seen the look on Harry’s face.
“Come on, Harry.” Hermione took Harry’s hand and helped him up. “We have to take a walk.” Harry just nodded and stumbled down the hallway. He clutched the stair railing tightly in case he lost his balance, but by the bottom steps he was fully awake. Hermione was glad Molly wasn’t in the kitchen to see Harry’s face. Grabbing they warm clothes, Hermione helped Harry get his coat on and led him, almost pushing, out the back door and down the path to the back pasture.
Adjusting her hat and gloves and seeing Harry fully awake, Hermione started questioning Harry. “Harry, are you all right? You looked terrible when you came out of...whatever that was you came out of.”
“Yeah, sorry, Hermione, sometimes I’m really in there deep and...this afternoon’s session was difficult.”
“Well, you should expect that sometimes, Harry. You probably have more healing to do than any...” But Harry cut Hermione off.
“It’s not that. Ginny was hiding something from me. I saw it as soon as we started this afternoon. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but it has her very worried, almost panicked.”
“Wow, she hasn’t mentioned anything to me. You two aren’t, uh, pregnant or anything, are you?” Harry didn’t look at Hermione, but shook his head no.
“You have some nerve asking that, Hermione.” Harry’s voice sounded hurt, but he started smiling. “No, don’t worry about that.” Harry took his hand out of his pocket and held Hermione’s as the continued walking. “How are you and Ron going with that? No problems?”
“No, we both learned a lot. God I’m so sorry all that happened, Harry. I had always thought I was prudish and incapable of... oh never mind. The funny thing is, now that Ron and I are trying to get pregnant we can’t. But it’s only been one month, we have lots of time.”
“Yeah, Fred and George say that ‘getting pregnant’ is half the fun.”
That brought out a laugh from Hermione.
“Oh, Harry! You won’t believe this, but Fred asked my friend Patty out to dinner tomorrow night. Isn’t that the best?”
Harry snorted out a laugh. “Poor girl, did you warn her?”
“Yes, sort-of, but if Fred hurts her I’ll castrate him.”
“I don’t know, Hermione, I saw him looking at her at your wedding, it wasn’t a lustful look. Maybe it will work out.”
“Work out? Harry they’re just going to dinner.”
“I know.” Walking a couple more minutes in silence, Harry asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well, something happened today at work and I wanted your opinion on how to proceed.” Hermione’s tone was completely serious now.
“Ok, not that I know anything about translating rooms.”
“Runes! Harry, not rooms! Oh, cut it out!” Harry was laughing. “And you wouldn’t need any help with the rune translations, Patty and I are converting them into Latin,”
“Right, that’s better. I only had Latin for one term, the year before my first at Hogwarts.”
“Oh, shut up, Harry. You’re worse than Ron.” Letting go of Harry’s hand, Hermione playfully swatted at his arm.
“Ok, ok. So what can I do for you?”
“Well, there’s a connection between these documents and Fudge’s murder, but I can’t think of a reason you would have been warned about them. Patty and I are doing the research, not you.”
Harry felt uncomfortable with this topic. He promised Moody that he would not share the contents of the memory with anyone outside their team, but he thought that sharing the information would be helpful. Remembering a story he had heard a couple years back helped make up his mind.
“Hermione, did you know that near the end of World War II the Americans had spent billions of dollars to build an atomic bomb, but they didn’t have the fuel for it. They could not purify enough Uranium to make the bomb work. It turned out that there were three separate groups working on purifying the Uranium through different methods, and each didn’t know the others existed. When the Army found out that the Navy had a process for speeding up the production, they cooperated and built a successful bomb.”
“I see what you’re saying, Harry. Do you have something to share with me, also?” Hermione was intrigued by the implication Harry made.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Hermione, it may be nothing.”
“Right then, and it may be everything. Are you going to tell me?”
Harry looked like he was struggling with his conscience but he finally talked.
“Fudge was in the last meeting of the 9/19 investigation committee. A witch from somewhere had a page of a rune similar to the one you are translating. She was able to translate it with the help of your boss. But when she gave the information to the committee, Rufus Scrimgeour took it away and told the committee that they should forget it because it was sacrilegious. Shortly after that, the witch disappeared. I visited Fudge a few days later and he was obviously concerned about the meeting so he hid his memory of the meeting in a tiny pensieve and gave it to me. That afternoon Fudge disappeared. Moody is certain Scrimgeour has something to do with both of them, and I think he’s right.”
Harry stopped for a moment to let Hermione absorb this information. “Anything else, Harry?”
“Are you practicing your Legilimancy skills, Hermione?”
“Nope, but whenever you don’t finish a story you dig your hands into your pockets just like you are doing now.” Harry quickly pulled his hands out, and then laughed at himself.
“Ok, there’s more, but this is part speculation. The committee had shifted its focus, to investigating the connection of the 9/19 events with what happened with Percy Weasley and the other boy. That’s why the witch was so eager to give the committed her translation, it spoke about a wizard forcing memories on to some people. It mentioned people dying from memory transfer disruptions but also about how one of the wizard’s sons was able to recover some people. The first time the 9/19 events started was at the exact moment Percy was killed...or whatever happened to him, but before the committee could investigate exactly what happened they were dissolved.”
“Moody and I talked about all the changes in magic since 9/19, trying to find correlations between the events and the particular magic’s thread. It turns out that the first big change, the one starting 9/19, affected mainly Slytherin threads. However, the subsequent shifts had no useful relation to threads at all; they were across the board changes.”
“Harry, do you have a list of the spells affected?”
“No, but Moody does. Maybe we should owl him.”
“I’ll do it when I get back to Hogsmeade. Merlin I’m cold!” Harry and Hermione had stopped walking when Harry was telling about the memory. Putting his arm around her waist, Harry turned them around and headed back to the Burrow.
“That was most of what we discussed and saw in the memory. I think it has something to do with Ginny, too. She was acting strange today when we were at St. Mungo’s. But then she suddenly cheered up as if nothing had happened. So now I’ve told you all my secrets, it’s your turn.”
“It’s far less information that you gave, I’m sorry to say. Today was the biggest day for us. We finally cracked the code on the parchments we’ve been working on. It was so simple that Patty and I missed it for three days. Anyway, when we got to read small parts of the document we found who the author was.” Hermione stopped again and looked at Harry. In a very quiet voice she said, “Merlin, Harry! THE Merlin!”
If Harry was impressed he didn’t show it. “Yeah, I thought maybe...” But his comment trailed off into nothing. Thinking for a minute, Harry made a suggestion.
“Hermione, we should continue to share information, but what about Ginny and Ron? I don’t want them involved. One person has already died from this and I’ve had enough dying.”
“Well, good luck with Ginny, I’ll keep Ron occupied.”
Arriving back at the Burrow, Hermione ran upstairs to say hello to Ginny. Harry sat at the kitchen table and sipped Hermione’s cold tea. Molly had left a note on the table saying she was at the Fairling’s and would be back for dinner at seven.
Hermione came running back down the stairs then slowed to a walk, approaching Harry she gave him a hug and thanked him for the information. “See you soon, Harry. I told Ginny you two are invited over for dinner Saturday evening.” And with a wave Hermione disappeared into the parlor.
“Harry, can you come up here, please?”
Trudging up the stairs, Harry saw Ginny’s head in the bathroom door. “Hi, what’s up?” Harry asked, blandly.
“Need a shower?” Ginny’s smiling face was bright red and her voice was almost shaking, but Harry disappointed her.
“Thanks, I have to lie down for a while. Could you wake me for dinner, please?”