A Matter of Circumstance

Chapter 12 - Offerings

"What?!" Harry bellowed incredulously. As he looked into her pale face, his thoughts immediately flew to her visit to Madam Pomfrey. She's pregnant. His heart leapt into his throat and the blood pounded in his ears. He wasn't ready for this... he wasn't prepared for it. Before she could utter another word, he strode to the table and crouched in front of her. "Ginny, are you--"

"I'm off the team, Harry," she whispered. "Grounded. A reserve took my place in practice." He could barely hear her voice as she struggled to choke out her words. Huge tears were now forming in her eyes and her breathing was becoming ragged. "They won't allow me to play... not even to practice."

Within the whirlwind of his feelings, his heart broke to see her this distraught. Knowing she needed his support, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As he exhaled slowly, he tried to push his roiling emotions aside and calm himself. Seeing the stricken look on her face, he said softly, "Ginny, I don't know what to say. I didn't think it would come to this." While he wanted children and as much as the thought of the woman in front of him being the mother appealed to him, he had truly hoped this wouldn't happen... for her sake "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Brushing tears from her eyes, she shook her head in frustration. "It's just not fair!" she lamented. "It's just old-fashioned thinking."

"What happened?" Harry asked as he removed his handkerchief from his pocket. As he handed it to her, he continued, "I'm surprised you were grounded so quickly. Isn't there usually some kind of assessment? Don't they usually have some kind of meeting to discuss what to do?"

"They must have met and decided before I even left Hogwarts grounds." Ginny sniffed while taking the cloth from his hand.

The fact that others knew of this news before he did caused Harry to grow irritated. He swore he would speak with Dumbledore to find out why he had not been contacted immediately. That this information had been released at all, and apparently so quickly, did not sit right with him.

"They didn't even wait to let me talk to you first. Just up and benched me right there in front of the whole team," Ginny huffed.

He considered it unforgivable that Portree had treated Ginny in such a manner. A woman in her condition deserved a little more respect, not to mention some discretion. He decided he couldn't let that behavior go unchallenged. "It isn't right," he declared firmly. "I doubt it will do much good at this point, but I'm going to be having words with the Portree's manager."

"It wasn't his decision...? Ginny said, pushing her hair away from her face in frustration. "A ruling came straight from the Department of Games and Sports."

Harry thought that was curious. His indignation was usurped by confusion as he pondered this new information. "I wouldn't have thought they would get involved. I mean, this type of thing must happen... occasionally."

"Well, apparently this is a little more high profile," she pouted. "I'm the Minister's daughter... they don't want to take any risks."

Harry didn't want Ginny to take any risks either, but he thought this treatment was outrageous. Before he could work himself into anger again, Ginny broke into his thoughts.

"What about you? Do you think they'll sideline you as well?" she asked in concern.

"I don't see why they'd suspend me," he said, wrinkling his brow in confusion. "Granted, I'm a little involved--"

"Involved?!" Ginny exclaimed with narrowed eyes. "I'd say you were more than a little involved!"

Harry immediately realized how his words had sounded. He quickly backpedaled. "I'm sorry-- yes, I am more than a little involved," he apologized. He needed to reassure her of his intentions. "Ginny, we're in this together... I would never leave you to it alone. But really, it does at least make more sense that you were grounded... after all, you're the one who's pregnant--"

"What!"

Harry was shocked by her outburst. He frantically tried to recall what he said that might have upset her further. "Well... Quidditch can be very dangerous for someone who's expec--"

"Harry James Potter! I am not pregnant!" she pronounced.

The messages Harry's brain carried were a jumbled, entangled mess: a wave of relief, instantly followed by a pang of remorse, mixed in with a healthy dose of confusion. Overwhelmed, he sat down hard on the floor. "You're not?" he asked weakly.

She gaped at him with confusion. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "Where on earth did you get that idea?"

Reviewing the events of the past few minutes, he closed his eyes. "You looked so pale. And you'd just gone to see Madam Pomfrey," he explained. When he looked up at her, he saw a glimmer of understanding cross her face. "And, well... so if you're not pregnant, why are you off the team?" he implored, still confused.

"The article, Harry. The article." Ginny's nose crinkled and she rolled her eyes. "Seems the Department of Games and Sports thinks I am bad publicity. My wanton ways are endangering the good name of Quidditch."

"Oh, that's absurd!" Harry exclaimed in disbelief.

"You're telling me!" Ginny huffed in exasperation.

"When I read the article, I figured it must have been a slow news day or something!" Harry said, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "I mean, where do they get off holding to such antiquated ideas? We're not living in the Dark Ages any longer."

Ginny nodded, rubbing her temples. "Well, Dark Ages or not, it's out of my hands. There's no opportunity to appeal."

"Oh, Ginny... I'm so sorry." Her dejected expression caused him to simmer with frustration. Glancing at his watch, he decided he had time to make one additional trip this morning before he went to practice. He hated to just leave Ginny when she was so down, but he hoped that his efforts this morning would be able to resolve some of the issues causing her problems. He stood up from the floor and placed his hand gently on her cheek. "Look, I've got some visits to make before practice. Will you be okay?"

"I don't have much choice," she sighed. Smiling feebly at him, she said, "I'll be fine."

*****

Harry Apparated into the gloom of a shadow-filled alleyway in London. Striding quickly past office buildings and a pub, he arrived at the dilapidated red telephone box that served as a visitor entrance to the Ministry of Magic. After dialing the required number and announcing the purpose of his visit to the disembodied voice, he descended into the depths of the hidden building.

Stopping briefly for wand registration at the security desk, he proceeded through the gates, caught a lift at the end of the hall and rode it to level one. As he stepped out of the lift, he was stunned to see the corridors lined with dozens of witches and wizards. All were holding either cameras or scrolls of parchment and quills. The air was thick with excitement and the buzz of conversation was almost deafening. Within moments, he was assaulted by shouts and calls.

"Harry Potter! Look, it's Harry Potter!" called a lanky man who had been leaning on a wall not far from him.

"Mr. Potter, over here!" As he turned, a brilliant light flashed in his eyes. The hallway was soon clouded with purple smoke illuminated here and there by flashes of light.

"Will you give us a statement, Mr. Potter?" came a silky voice to his right. Before he could turn toward the speaker, he felt a firm grip on his left elbow. He whirled quickly toward this new assailant, and found himself nearly nose to nose with a large, burly man, dressed in the uniform of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad.

"Let's get you out of here," rumbled the wizard in a deep, resonating voice.

"I'm here to see the Minister," Harry informed the officer.

As other members of the Law Enforcement Squad cleared a path through the reporters, Harry's escort led him to the end of the hall and Arthur Weasley's office.

Upon entering, Harry saw Mr. Weasley standing near the center of his office surrounded by a small group of individuals all nodding, taking notes and listening intently to his instructions. "I want reports from each of you by close of business today," the Minister said as his assistants all scurried out of the office.

As he watched the Law Enforcement Wizard pull the door closed, Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the considerable drop in noise. He returned his attention back toward the elder Weasley who was now sinking into one of the large leather chairs in front of the desk.

"Nasty business, Harry. Don't ever go into politics," Mr. Weasley intoned. He swept his hand toward the chair opposite him in invitation as he looked to Harry. "I assume you're here about the article?"

Harry took the seat offered him. "Indirectly, but I can't stay long," he replied, getting right to the point of his visit. "Did you know they've suspended Ginny from Quidditch?"

"No, I didn't know," the older man said with a frown. "But I'm not surprised. I was afraid something like this would happen."

"Is there anything you can do?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I might be able to affect the decisions of the Department of Games and Sports... though I try not to interfere often." Mr. Weasley sighed as he tapped his finger on the arm of the chair. "But I'm not sure it would be wise of me to use my influence with regard to my own daughter."

An idea half-formed in his mind, Harry said, "That's not really what I was suggesting."

"Oh?" Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Well, tell me... what do you have in mind?"

Not sure of the response he would receive, Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I've always heard you should fight fire with fire," he prefaced. "I've used the press before with good results... maybe if--"

"You'd want to give an interview? For another article?" Mr. Weasley leaned forward and peered at Harry with a grave look on his face.

"It would have to be a reporter I trust," he answered with a nod of his head. "One that didn't conveniently leave out important details but could be discreet."

"I don't know, Harry..." The older man rubbed his chin and frowned. "I think under the circumstances the truth might do more harm than good."

"I've got to do something!" Harry blurted out in frustration. "I just can't stand by and let Ginny's life get ruined like this!" It was bad enough not knowing who cast this spell to begin with. Harry would have dearly loved to dedicate himself to going out to find the culprit. He would gladly forego magic and wring the person's bloody neck. But he knew that he could not risk himself to do so, Ginny's life depended upon him staying safe and close to her. He felt like he was failing her that her reputation was being sacrificed as well.

A curious look passed across Arthur Weasley's face. "What about yourself?" he asked with a raise of his brow.

"What?" Harry rubbed at the pain blossoming underneath his forehead. "What about me?" he questioned with a sigh.

"I don't really want to remind people that this spell exists, let alone how it can be used to hurt. There are plenty of Voldemort's old supporters out there who would love a chance to wreak some havoc." Mr. Weasley leaned back in his chair. Resting his elbows on the arms, he steepled his fingers in thought. "Besides, Harry, if word gets out that you've buckled under to this threat, you'll be setting yourself up for more crackpots to have a go at you."

"I'm not concerned about me," Harry replied dully. "But I can see your point about the spell," he admitted, his shoulders slumping forward in resignation. The silence in the room roared in his ears and he searched for alternatives. Breaking the contemplative mood, he asked in desperation, "Do you think it would do any good if I went down to talk to the head of Department of Games and Sports?"

"I'm not so certain that they'd appreciate that." The Minister snorted in disgust. "They've been struggling for years to try to repair the damage left from the scandalous legacy of Ludo Bagman. That's probably why they've taken this stance with regard to Ginny. These little scandals pop up all the time in Quidditch, but Ginny isn't just another player. She's the Minister's daughter. Makes for much more sensational headlines."

"But if I explain to them that she's not engaged to that... prat anymore--" Harry tried arguing.

"She'll still living with you," Mr. Weasley said pointedly, then shook his head sadly. "I'd suggest she move back home, but the damage has already been done. And regardless of what the papers say, we all understand why this arrangement is better for you both."

Considering those words, Harry's mind leapt to a possible solution. A strange sensation rose from the pit of his stomach as his mind quickly ran through the possibilities.

"Mr. Weasley... what if... what if Ginny and I were to get married?" Harry searched the elder Weasley's face for any sign of acceptance. "She's not engaged to anyone else, we would be married and quite understandably living together... there wouldn't be a scandal anymore."

"Harry, my boy..." Mr. Weasley responded softly, clapping him on the shoulder. "Thank you. It's a testament to the type of man you are that you would offer to do this for our girl--"

"--I promised you I would take care of her," Harry interrupted.

"A marriage under these circumstances wouldn't be right." Mr. Weasley gave Harry an encouraging smile. "You know that. And I'm sure you know what Ginny would say."

Harry knew how he wanted Ginny to respond, but he also recognized that Mr. Weasley was right. Ginny was not the type to take marriage lightly. Even though Harry believed she cared for him a great deal, he wasn't sure she loved him. He hated the thought of not having any way to help Ginny, but it looked as though his hands were tied.

Having another stop to make before he needed to be at practice, Harry made arrangements to meet again with Mr. Weasley at Dumbledore's office the next day, and bid him farewell.

*****

When Harry arrived home that night, he was greeted by the enticing aroma of vanilla and spice. He took a deep breath and exhaled with a smile. Strolling into the kitchen he found Ginny standing at the counter, surrounded by mounds of dirty pans and trays heaped with biscuits and cakes and pies. He had to fight the urge to laugh at the sight of her when she turned to face him. She had on a ridiculously frilly apron and the sleeves of her shirt were rolled up to her elbows. Her long red hair was pulled up into a lopsided ponytail with so many tendrils falling out and ends sticking up that, had the color been black, it might have resembled his own. She nudged a wayward strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist, adding another smudge of flour to her face.

He finally gave in to the overwhelming feeling of mirth and chuckled at the sight of Ginny standing amid enough sweets to feed a small army. "Going into business?" he asked, grinning broadly.

She smiled sheepishly in return. "I'm afraid when I'm upset I have a tendency to bake a bit."

"Just a bit?" he laughed. "Well, if it tastes as good as it smells, I don't know if I mind you being upset."

A loud hoot from the other side of the room caught Harry's attention. "Feeling left out, girl?" he asked, as he strode toward Hedwig's perch. The owl glared menacingly at him has he reached out to stroke the feathers on her head. "In a bit of a foul mood today, aren't you?"

"She's been after me for a biscuit all day," Ginny supplied with a shrug. "I didn't know if you allowed her to have sweets..."

"Oh... I see-- ouch!" Harry pulled his hand out of Hedwig's reach and examined the finger she had nipped a bit too hard. "Easy, girl..." Turning to Ginny he answered her unspoken question. "Hedwig can have sweets..." He shot a glare toward his owl before adding, "When she behaves herself." Hedwig hooted again and turned on her perch so that her back was facing Harry.

"Having girl problems, Harry?" Ginny asked with a slight snicker.

Harry smirked at her and watched her mouth twitch as she tried to contain her laughter. Taking a biscuit from the nearest plate, he thrust it toward Hedwig. "Go on," he intoned toward the bird, "bite the hand that feeds you." Hedwig promptly took the offered biscuit from his hand and returned to face the wall.

Ginny's lost the battle and chortled aloud at the bird's antics. Harry grinned and shook his head at her. "I'm so glad you find us entertaining," he told her dryly.

When she had regained some semblance of composure, he grinned at her and asked, "So... as tonight is your night to cook, can I presume we'll be eating cake and biscuits for supper?"

"You git..." She shook her head and smiled brightly at him. Her smile slipped slightly and she cleared her throat. "I assume, since you weren't home earlier, you didn't get put off your team?" Ginny untied her apron and placed it on the counter.

Harry sighed and began removing his cloak and walked toward the lounge, Ginny following. "No." He turned to look at her as he hung his cloak on the rack. A frown creased his forehead as he added, "Although I came very close to leaving on my own. I may yet."

"What happened?" Ginny rolled the sleeves of her shirt down and dusted off her front.

"When I got to practice... nothing." Harry stood by the fireplace and watched Ginny perch on the edge of the sofa. "I kept expecting to be called into the manager's office, but everyone acted like nothing had happened. I finally went to go see him myself. Asked him if he'd seen today's Prophet and had he heard from Department of Games and Sports."

"What did he say?" Ginny's expression radiated concern.

"He had seen the article and had actually contacted the Department of Games and Sports himself," he said uncomfortably. Pausing for a moment, he heaved a sigh. "Seems there's a bit of a double standard in the Wizarding world."

"I could have told you that," she said bitterly.

"I know. It really isn't fair," he replied. Giving a grunt of disapproval, he added, "He said it's expected for a bloke to 'dally around'. No harm done."

Ginny's only response was an indignant humph.

"Yes, well... he suggested that if 'Harry Potter' wanted some 'relaxation' after all he'd done, there wasn't anyone around who would hold it against him." Harry cringed with embarrassment. "I told him I wasn't impressed with his attitude and thought I might just quit the team under protest."

"But you didn't?" Ginny now looked at him apprehensively.

"Well, my threat shook him up a bit. Seems he thinks I'm the best ticket seller they've had in years." Harry shrugged and heaved another sigh. "He said that if I stayed with the team, he'd do everything he could to get you reinstated... but no promises. I agreed to give him a chance, but I don't expect much. Honestly, that was the best result I've had all day."

"I take it you had no luck getting the article retracted?" she asked tentatively.

"None." Harry's fist clenched in recollection of that morning's meeting. "Talking to the Prophet's editor was like talking to a Blast-Ended Skrewt. About as productive, too."

"I really appreciate your trying, Harry." A slight smile graced her lips affirming her gratitude.

"I wish I could have done more." His thoughts once more touched on the only answer that had occurred to him. "Actually, I did have an idea for a solution."

"What's that?"

"Well..." Harry's heart thudded in his chest and he frantically searched for the best way to present this to her. "Part of the cause for this whole scandal has been eliminated since you've called off your engagement," he reasoned. "Since the only part left is because we're living together and were not--"

Ginny stood up suddenly and moved to stand in front of Harry, pressing the fingers of one hand against his lips. "If you're thinking what I believe you are, Harry..." Her eyes were wide and pleading. "Please... let's not go there. You know it wouldn't be right." With the slightest caress, she pulled her fingers away from his mouth and clasped her hands in front of her. Her eyes shifted from his face to stare at a point near his shoulder. "I wouldn't want to trap you into a marriage of convenience. Marriage is about love."

Harry felt a stab of hurt at her words. He wanted so badly to tell her that he did love her. However, if she didn't love him in return, he knew marriage would be a bad choice. "I'd do anything for you," he choked out in a whisper. An edge of pain had crept into his voice and she looked into his eyes.

She stood before him, her hair a mess, with smudges of flour dusting her cheeks and forehead. Yet she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. Harry stepped closer to her and brushed his hand against her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He swept his hand to the back of her head and released the band holding her hair. Smoothing the unruly strands, he brought both hands up to cup her face. He closed the distance between them and kissed her softly on her lips.

Their tongues mated and he gathered her into his arms, pressing her close. Her hands slid over his shoulders and pulled free the tie that held his hair loosely at the nape of his neck. Her fingers played gently with his hair as his hands roamed over the softness of her back and their kiss grew in intensity. As the heat between them built, Harry pulled his mouth from hers, gasping softly. "I want you, Ginny," he quietly confessed.

Ginny smiled at him wickedly and reached to unbutton his shirt. As he took a breath to ask her if she wanted to go to his room, she silenced him by placing a finger to his lips. "Trust me," she said, her voice low and soft before she returned to her task.

He thought he would die of pleasure as she kissed and caressed his chest while removing his shirt. She slipped her fingers under his belt and gently tugged on him as she backed up toward the sofa. She maneuvered him so that the backs of his legs were against the seat before slipping her fingers back over his chest. She moved her hands slowly to his belt buckle and lifted her face up to him.

Harry accepted her silent offering and lowered his mouth to hers. As their tongues tangled and passion grew, he felt his trousers loosen as she unzipped them. They kissed and teased as they slowly undressed each other. Harry sat down on the sofa and pulled her down on top of him. Straddling him, she lowered her face to his. His eyes flicked up to meet hers and she grinned widely at him before lowering her mouth to meet his own.

When she finally sheathed him within her heat, Harry felt the vibration of her low moan. He pulled back from their kiss to watch as she threw back her head and arched into him. Her hair trailed along his hands and the ends tickled the insides of his thighs. Their bodies then moved in a slow rhythm, his hands now roamed freely over her back and thighs.

Her fingers slid into his hair and she tilted his head up to capture his lips in a searing kiss before she laid her forehead against his and her tempo increased. Hearing her shuddering sigh of release pushed him over the edge and he pulled her tightly against him as he found his own.