A Matter of Circumstance

Chapter 13 - Reflections

A soft breeze blowing across his face caused Harry to slowly stir from his sleep. As consciousness returned to him, a feeling of euphoria enveloped him and he smiled the slight smile of the satisfied. Snuggled under the soft duvet of his bed, Harry's thoughts centered on the woman sleeping in the next room. Ginny had taken a place in his heart that no one had ever occupied before. He found himself thinking of her all the time. It seemed his every action and deed was decided with her in mind. She held a quiet power over him; a simple smile from her could cause him to fill with joy -- a tear would break his heart.

An almost unbearable yearning had developed within him, a desire to have her presence in his life without question. He longed to know she would be with him ... belong to him, always. In the short time she had been living with him, she had become an integral part of who he was. The thought of losing her made him ache with emptiness. It was the only flaw on the emotional bond he'd formed with her ... the destiny of which, he did not know..

As much as he hated this spell placed upon them, Harry had to acknowledge that, without it, he would never have come to know Ginny as he did now. In a way, the spell created a security for him as he did not know what would happen if it were broken. The same thing that had wreaked havoc in his life had also created a sliver of serenity in his soul. It was a dichotomy that he both loathed and appreciated.

His greatest hope lay in the evidence of Ginny's feelings for him. She had admitted that she once loved him, indeed had spent years loving him. Harry examined the feeling of love for Ginny within himself and could not imagine it diminishing. Could a person really love someone one day and then not love them the next? Ginny's actions and words spoke of love to him and he held on to that hope as if it were his only lifeline.

As he lay mulling over his thoughts and feelings, he heard the sounds of her stirring in her room. Realizing it was his turn to make breakfast, Harry pulled himself from his contemplation and set about getting ready to start the day.

*****

As he was setting the table, Ginny walked into the kitchen, still in her dressing gown. "Good morning, Ha...ar...ry," she said, stifling a yawn and giving him a sheepish grin.

"Morning," he said with a chuckle. "Did you sleep well?"

As Ginny sat down, Harry placed a cup of tea in front of her. "Not too bad, considering." Ginny smirked as she lifted her teacup and glanced about the room. "I do think I'm going to have to find something to do with my time ... other than bake, that is."

Harry followed her eyes around the kitchen to take in all the plates of baked goods that were stacked on the counters. Smiling broadly, his gaze returned to her. "Yes, but you have to promise you'll still bake occasionally. It's just not something that I've been able to get the hang of ... and store-bought biscuits just aren't as good."

At a hoot from the edge of the kitchen, Harry and Ginny both looked at Hedwig. With a small laugh, Ginny reassured the owl, "I promise, Hedwig ... I'll keep you and Harry well stocked with home-baked biscuits."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of an owl bearing that morning's issue of the Daily Prophet. Harry retrieved the paper and carefully deposited coins into the owl's pouch. When the owl flew back out the window, Harry hesitantly placed the paper in the center of the table. Looking to Ginny, he said, "Would you like the honor, or shall I?"

"I'm not sure I really want to know." Ginny returned his look dubiously.

The two of them sat there staring at the unopened paper for several moments. Finally Harry sighed. "This is silly." He picked up the paper and quickly unrolled it. "There can't be anything in here worse than there was yesterday."

Ginny watching him, he carefully scanned the front page. Nothing. Opening the paper, he began glancing through each article, feeling more and more relief as he passed each one. When he had reached the third page, his attention was caught by a small notice near the bottom:

Prophet Pressman Pranked Purple?

by Gertrude M. Gaily, Daily Prophet Reporter

Under unusual circumstances, Daily Prophet reporter, Alfred Obloquy, has taken an indefinite leave of absence. Mr. Obloquy apparently suffered an attack late yesterday afternoon that has left his skin a peculiar shade of heliotrope. As he has been unavailable for comment, the first-hand details of this attack are not available. However, co-workers report that Mr. Obloquy received a box of sweets from an alleged reader late yesterday afternoon. It was shortly after receiving this gift that Mr. Obloquy was observed to be turning a violaceous tinge before Flooing to St. Mungo's. Unconfirmed reports indicate that in addition to a change in pigmentation, Mr. Obloquy also suffered from an abnormal mutation of his voice box causing him to spout Gibberish. An anonymous source at St. Mungo's has revealed that Mr. Obloquy was released late yesterday with no change reported in his condition from when he arrived.

There is rampant speculation that a piece by Mr. Obloquy, appearing in yesterday's edition of the Daily Prophet, is the catalyst for this assault. Said piece unwisely vilified our current Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley. Let it be known that this reporter, who is assuming the duty of reporting on Ministry affairs, will always report in an unbiased manner.

With a quirked eyebrow, Harry handed the paper to Ginny and pointed out the article. After quickly reviewing, she looked back to Harry with an astonished look on her face and they both broke out in laughter.

"Do you think Fred and George might have done this?" Harry asked between guffaws.

"It definitely is their style," she replied when she had caught her breath. "I can only hope that this is their work. Knowing them, Mr. Obloquy will be out of commission for some time."

Relieved and amused, they returned to their breakfast. Harry tried hard not to stare at Ginny but caught himself repeatedly looking her way. Even disheveled from sleep, he found her beautiful and the echo of her lilting laugh resounded in his ears. In a last effort to maintain his nonchalance, Harry picked the discarded paper up off the table and began reading in earnest.

When he finished reading the latest Quidditch rankings, he glanced up and noticed Ginny had finished eating. She was quietly sipping her tea and staring blankly out the window into the back garden.

"So, have any idea of what you're going to do today ... instead of bake?" Harry waited patiently for her to respond. He was on the verge of repeating himself when she finally answered.

"Hmm?" she questioned distractedly. She turned to look at him with a slight smile. "I'm sorry ... I was a bit lost in thought." She placed her teacup gently on the table and ran her finger idly around the rim. "Actually, I was thinking about going to The Burrow today. Even if I can't practice with the Pride, I really should keep my flying skills honed. I thought I might do a bit of flying in the orchard."

Harry really wished he could assure her that she would be put back on the team soon, but he just couldn't bring himself to casually lie to her like that. He was afraid of what this whole situation was going to end up costing her and the guilt he had buried deep within himself began to rise again. Swallowing hard, he pressed on with the conversation. "Were you planning on going to Hogwarts first thing this morning?"

"Yes, in a bit," she said, cocking her head. She looked at him with curiosity. "Why?" .

"I've an appointment to meet with Professor Dumbledore and your father there this morning ... to discuss the progress on finding a counter-spell and ... our attacker." He casually began gathering the empty plates into a stack on the table as he fought to hide his nervousness. "It concerns you just as much ... do you want to come?" It shamed him to feel this way, but Harry hoped that Ginny did not want to come to the meeting. Each time he'd met with Dumbledore so far, she had been unavailable and he had been grateful. The meetings were usually unproductive except for managing to thoroughly embarrass him. He had come to not expect anything different, and for this reason, the idea of sitting and discussing the spell with her in attendance made him very uncomfortable.

As if she could read his mind, she shifted in her chair and replied, "I hope you don't mind, but I'd really rather not put myself in that position. I know I should be as involved as I can be in finding a solution to this situation, but I just feel ... I don't know ... exposed whenever discussion of the spell comes up. Does that make sense?"

"I know exactly how you feel, and it makes perfect sense." Harry was relieved that she didn't want to attend, but also irritated with himself for feeling that way. "We can still go up to the school together, if you'd like," he offered.

"Just give me a minute to put the kitchen to rights," she replied as she retrieved her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown.

*****

Harry accompanied Ginny to the corridor outside of Hogwarts hospital wing. Outside the door, she stopped and turned to him. "You didn't need to come all the way up here with me," she said. "But thank you."

"I've practice a little later this morning, so I don't expect this meeting will take long," he said.

As if reading his mind, she said, "You don't need to worry about me. I'll be going straight to The Burrow when I'm through here." A tiny frown was visible on her lips as she gazed at him wistfully. She reached for the door handle and hesitated. "I will let you know if the exam turns up anything," she added softly.

Harry reached a hand out to her arm and touched her lightly. "Are you all right, Ginny?" There was an edge of concern to his voice and he leaned down to catch her gaze.

"I'm fine, Harry. Really I am." Her eyes flicked up to meet his and she smiled warmly. "You'd better go along to the meeting. I'll see you tonight." She lifted up on her toes and placed a warm kiss on his cheek. With a final nod, she opened the door and slipped inside.

Lost in thought wondering why she had seemed momentarily melancholy, he did not move until after the door had closed again. As he turned to walk back down the corridor, a pensive smile formed on his lips and he touched his cheek where she had kissed him. He couldn't explain why, but that simple display of affection meant the world to him.

When Harry arrived in Dumbledore's office, he was surprised to see Bill in addition to Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley. After a brief exchange of greetings, they settled into squashy chairs arranged in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Harry, I won't mince words," began Mr. Weasley. He had a solemn look in his eyes as he held Harry's gaze. "There hasn't been any progress in finding a counter for this spell."

Cursing under his breath, Harry's posture drooped and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He fought for control of his anger over this situation. He did not blame the people who were working hard to find a solution. No, all blame lay neatly at the feet of whoever it was that had cast this spell in the first place. In an attempt to keep his growing irritation under control, he tried to focus on what could be done. "What about the use of the Muggle medicine? Has anymore research gone into that?" Harry hadn't been particularly encouraged that this would be a solution, but he had hoped for some kind of progress to have been made by this time.

"Professor Flitwick has been in contact with some specialists in Muggle medicine. There are some concerns that we were not previously aware of," Bill interjected. Although he sat directly across from Harry, he did not look at him directly. "As you know, we have no way to safely test this medicine to see if it would actually fool the magic of the spell. If Ginny were to take the medicine and it didn't work, the medicine itself could cause complications for her."

"What young Mr. Weasley is saying, Harry," added Professor Dumbledore, "is that this medicine is a Muggle contraceptive. Although we've discussed the physiological similarities of Witches and Muggle women, there may be enough differences involving the magic contained in Ginny's blood to cause concern. Ginny's magic might possibly enhance the properties of the Muggle contraceptive for a period of time which is longer than desirable."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Ginny getting pregnant is not the preferred method of ending this spell, Harry. But so far, it is the only known way to safely do so." There was a look of pain on his face as he added, "If it's between risking Ginny's life or having an early grandchild from her, I think you can understand which I'd choose."

Harry didn't think he could feel more uncomfortable. Glancing at the faces of the older Weasley men in the room, he was struck by the raw emotions he saw displayed. He couldn't help feeling a little intimidated by the responsibility laid at his feet. Unfortunately, Harry was having concerns of his own in this regard and wasn't quite sure how to verbalize them. He sighed and leaned forward in his chair, letting his clasped his hands hang between his knees. With the weight of a confession, he held Mr. Weasley's gaze and spoke of his fears.

"I'm not sure we can end this spell ... naturally." Harry felt a light perspiration breaking out over the bridge of his nose. At Mr. Weasley's look of curiosity, Harry felt a bit helpless. "It's been two weeks so far ...."

A slight quirk at the corner of Mr. Weasley's mouth confused Harry and he began to feel a bit defensive.

"Ahem." Dumbledore adopted his most professorial tone to add, "Conception under normal circumstances is a delicate thing, Harry. With the additional stress that you and Ginny have been under, it is quite understandable that ... things have been unproductive." He glanced at Harry over the rim of his spectacles. "Madam Pomfrey tells me that the stress has also had some other physical side-effects for Ginny as well."

"I don't understand. What side-effects?" Harry was not only completely baffled by Dumbledore's statement, but he was very concerned about what could be happening to Ginny. With his forehead creased in worry, he glanced from Dumbledore to Mr. Weasley.

A slight smile still graced Mr. Weasley's face and he looked at Harry sympathetically. "It's all right, Harry. You've obviously not spent any great length of time with a woman in close quarters." Spoken with the comfort of a man married for many years, he simply stated, "Stress can sometimes upset woman's monthly cycle."

As Harry realized just what Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley were talking about, he flushed with embarrassment. He recognized that he wasn't alone feeling that way as he saw Bill's face was tinged with pink.

"I suggest, Harry, that you visit with Madam Pomfrey should you have any other concerns in this area." Dumbledore's tone suggested that this particular topic was now closed.

Harry nodded slightly and was relieved to take the opportunity to change the subject. "Where on we on locating the perpetrator of the spell?"

"I'm afraid there hasn't been much success in that area either," reported Dumbledore. "The former Order members that I have working on this have been questioning the families of known Death Eaters. They've also been trying to track down suspected Death Eaters and even sympathizers."

"Professor Flitwick and I have tried tracing spells on both the parchment and handwriting with no luck," said Bill with frustration. "We've even resorted to using the Muggle technique of obtaining and comparing fingerprints and DNA. There's just no clue."

"Is there a possibility that ... Mark might be involved?" Harry hated to make a random implication like this, but it was honestly how he felt. "I believe he had something to do with the article in the Daily Prophet."

"You aren't the only one to feel that way, Harry." Mr. Weasley's face had taken on a stony expression. "As I'm sure Ginny has told you, I did have some investigative work done on Mr. Englewood some time ago. I've turned the results of that investigation over to the Order and they are looking into it further."

"Smarmy git," grumbled Bill. With narrowed eyes, he dug his fingers into the arms of his chair. "He's going to be in a world of hurt if we find out he did talk to the Prophet."

Not surprised with Bill's reaction, Harry wondered what effect the article had on the rest of the Weasleys. He couldn't help feeling guilty as he had supported Ginny in her decision to move in with him. Turning his attention to Mr. Weasley, he said, "I'm almost afraid to ask, but have you experienced serious repercussions from the article ... at the Ministry?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, Harry. Don't you worry about it." Mr. Weasley gave him a reassuring nod.

"I can't help but worry how you ... how all of you are being affected by this." Harry thought of the woman who had worried so much about Ginny's reputation. "How is Mrs. Weasley taking it all?"

"Molly is fine. She's upset of course ... for both Ginny and your sake. We don't blame you for this, Harry." Mr. Weasley stood up and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's all going to work out," he said reassuringly.

With Mr. Weasley's gesture, it appeared the meeting was over. As Dumbledore walked Mr. Weasley to the door of his office, Harry turned to Bill. "I saw a small article in the Prophet this morning. Seems the reporter who wrote that article has mysteriously turned purple. Know anything about it?"

Bill merely smiled at Harry. "See you later," he said as he walked to the door.

*****

When Harry returned to Hogsmeade, he decided to take a few moments to have a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. He still had some time before he needed to get to practice, and it had been a while since he had frequented the friendly pub.

As he walked into the cheerful building, he immediately noticed a drop in the noise level. As he moved to an open table, he noticed in his peripheral vision, several of the patrons pointing in his direction. He caught snatches of conversation as he walked past tables. "Sow wild oats while you can, I always say," he heard one wizard telling the leering man across from him. "It's just shameful behavior," a witch from another table was saying to her companion. Harry usually paid no mind to people who gawked at him, but the atmosphere had taken on a decidedly hostile feel. He felt his irritation grow as people were blatantly glancing in his direction then huddling in whispered conversation. Harry heard a witch behind him 'tsking' and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled.

Harry knew it was that damned article. Ginny was now branded as scarlet woman and he was considered either 'a lucky bloke' or a scoundrel with no morals. Enraged at the puritan attitudes displayed around him, Harry quickly abandoned the idea of a drink and strode out of the pub.

Apparating into his back garden, Harry fumed over the current situation. Pacing back and forth, he struggled to bring his anger under control. As he made a quick turn, he nearly tumbled over a garden gnome that had the misfortune of coming across Harry's path. With a surge of irritation, Harry reached down and snagged the small creature by the foot. "Bloody hell!" he bellowed. Swinging the gnome widely over his head, he let it go flying over the back wall where it landed a good distance away.

Feeling a bit of his pent up rage dissipating, Harry took to degnoming his back garden with a vengeance. Thirty minutes and a good twenty gnomes later, Harry was feeling much better. Drenched with sweat and mud, he decided to have a quick shower before heading off to practice.

As he opened the back door to his home, a small feathery owl zoomed over his head and into the kitchen ahead of him.

"Pig!" Harry called out while closing the door. "Come here, you silly bird."

He watched amused as the owl ricocheted around the room before finally settling down on the kitchen table. Harry chuckled as Hedwig hooted indignantly over the smaller bird's antics. "Pig is never going to change, girl. You should know that by now," he said to his snowy owl while toeing off his muddy shoes by the door. Walking to the table in his stocking feet, he bent low and whispered to the tiny carrier. "I think you do that on purpose just to annoy Hedwig." Harry could almost see a twinkle of mischief in Pig's large round eyes as he stared back unblinking. After retrieving the parchment tied to Pig's leg, Harry broke off a small piece of biscuit from the plate on the table and offered it to the owl. "Just don't tell Hermione I'm giving you sweets," he said conspiratorially as Pig accepted the treat and flew out the window.

Opening the letter, Harry found the familiar penmanship of Hermione and read:

Harry,

I hope that Pig was able to catch you before you leave for practice. I am currently spending the day at The Burrow with Ginny and her mum, and we've decided it would be a nice day for a small get-together. I've Flooed Ron already and he is going to be coming here right after work. Care to join us for supper tonight? Just the six of us ... a nice quiet evening. I've even brought with me those pictures from Austria that you've yet to see. Let us know as soon as you can!

Love From,

Hermione

Further down the note was the following in Ginny's neat handwriting:

Harry,

Please say you'll come!

With Love,

Ginny

His heart skipped a beat as his eyes lingered over the words 'With Love, Ginny'. It's only a closing, he chided himself. Still, it brought a smile to his lips and he felt buoyed with hope. The was one more small note written below Ginny's:

Harry dear,

It just won't be the same without you here. Please say yes.

Molly

Harry chuckled to himself. How could he ever resist such lovely invitations from three beautiful ladies? He went into the lounge where he wrote a quick note accepting the offer of supper at The Burrow and sent it off with Hedwig.

Finally, he headed upstairs to his room. When he walked in, he first glanced at the clock on the mantle and took note that he still had forty-five minutes until he had to be at practice. As he began unbuttoning his shirt, he noticed a small bundle laying on his bed. His fingers let go of a button and he walked to the edge of the bed to examine the package. Written on the brown parchment wrapping were the words 'To Harry - From Ginny.' With a flutter in his stomach, he picked up the soft bundle and carefully unwrapped it. Inside he found a finely knit, jet-black jumper and a piece of parchment. He quickly picked up the parchment and read:

Harry,

This is just to say thank you so much for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you.

With Love,

Ginny

His heart beat rapidly as he once again noticed that Ginny had closed her note 'With Love'. He could only recall her signing off her letters before with simply 'Ginny'. Surely this meant something ... a change of heart? Attempting to keep himself from reading too much into it, he took a deep breath. It's just a common closing, he reminded himself. Hermione has been closing her letters with 'Love From' for ages, he reasoned. It doesn't mean anything special.

Turning his attention to the gift, Harry ran his hands over the soft, angora wool and admired the workmanship. He briefly wondered if Ginny had knit it herself, but thought that even if she hadn't ... she had very good taste. A warm feeling filled him and he laid it back onto the bed, deciding he would wear it tonight to The Burrow.

As he continued to undress, Harry pondered the note from Ginny. He wasn't sure she had anything to thank him for, but it certainly filled him with hope that she considered him important to her life. He knew that he felt similarly ... he didn't know what he'd do without her. It was becoming very important to him that he never find out.

His thoughts filled with Ginny, Harry showered, dressed and left for practice.