Making Mistakes

little_bird

Story Summary:
The events leading to the birth of Albus Severus Potter.

Chapter 25 - Tango

Posted:
05/09/2009
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744


Ginny sat back in the rocking chair with a sigh. She had spent most of the day sitting next to the cot, watching Albus, twisting her fingers in apprehension. Albus had managed a half hour without any of the Warming charms, before his temperature began to drop. Shanti quickly recast the one on the cot, and once his temperature was stable, recast the one on his blanket. Ginny had looked down in surprise when pain coursed through her hands. She had coiled them into fists, fingernails digging into the palms, crescent-shaped furrows marring the skin.. After a few hours, Shanti removed the charm on the cot, leaving the one on the blanket in place. So far, he was all right. His temperature was running a bit lower than normal, but he was holding steady.

She shifted Albus against her bare skin, tucking his head under her chin. He mewed softly once, then settled against her chest. 'How are you doing?' Shanti stood in the doorway, examining the clipboard.

'He stayed awake longer to nurse last time,' Ginny said.

'I was asking about you.'

Ginny looked down at Albus' sleeping face. 'Tired. Stressed. Feeling like I'm being pulled in ten directions at once. I want to be able to sleep at night, and not worry about him not breathing. I want to take a long, hot bath, and let someone else worry about it all for an hour. I want to be able to put James down for a nap, and know that I'll be there when he wakes up, and won't start crying hysterically when I'm not. I want to cook dinner for myself...' Ginny stopped. 'I'm not complaining,' she stated.

'No.'

Ginny looked up at Shanti, leaning against the wall, dressed in crumpled Muggle scrubs and trainers. 'Don't you ever go home?'

Shanti laughed. 'I was on my way out, but I wanted to check on you before I left.'

'Thanks.' Ginny smoothed a hand over the black fuzz of Albus' head.

'Not a problem.' Shanti pushed herself off the wall. 'Which one of your brothers is coming tonight?'

'Ron, I think. It's Thursday, isn't it?' When Shanti nodded, Ginny continued, 'Yeah, Ron, then.'

'How's Rosie doing?'

Ginny smiled. 'She's great. One of those enviously good-natured babies. Ron's already reading Quidditch Through the Ages to her, then Hermione turns around and reads Hogwarts: A History. He's going to start lobbing miniature Quaffles at her to see if she can stop them soon.'

'I am not,' Ron voice floated indignantly through the door. 'I thought I'd wait until she could ride a toy broom at least.' Ron walked into the room, and kissed the top of Ginny's head. 'How's it going, Gin?'

'All right,' she said. Ron glanced at Shanti, who nodded her head in confirmation.

Ron dropped into the chair next to Ginny. 'Mind if I stay in here?'

'No, go ahead.'

Shanti headed for the door. 'I'm off, then. Ewan'll be here in a few minutes.'

'Thanks, Shanti,' Ginny said.

'Is it really going all right?' Ron asked when they had been left alone.

'Yeah, it really is. We might get to go home soon.'

'Ginny, that's great!' Ron exclaimed softly, so as not to wake the baby.

'They took the Warming charm off the cot today and he's doing all right. He's gaining weight - '

'Are you sure?' Ron asked doubtfully. 'He still looks awfully small to me.'

'I'm sure.' Ginny got up and carefully laid Albus in the cot, tucking the blanket securely around him. 'He still stops breathing several times a day, but they say he'll outgrow that.'

'What do you mean he stops breathing?'

Ginny buttoned her pajama top and turned to Ron. 'Wow. The infamous Weasley family grapevine didn't work this time? Yes, he stops breathing, but only for a little while,' she explained. 'I'll tell you what to do if it happens to you. And Ewan will be here the entire time.'

'Who's Ewan?'

'Healer trainee. Works with premature babies. He's really good.'

Ron stretched his feet out in front of him. 'Heard from Harry?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No. Not since he left.'

'Shacklebolt would probably pass on letters between the two of you, if you asked.'

'I couldn't do that. If it was anyone else, they wouldn't be able to ask for something like that. And Harry would die if anyone thought he was getting special treatment. And it's too dangerous to have something like that going between here and there.'

'I owe you a huge apology, Gin,' Ron said quietly.

Ginny held up a hand. 'Stop. If one more of you apologizes for not being a better brother my first year, I'll throw you down into the Chamber myself.'

'Well, no, that's not what I was going to say,' Ron began. 'But now that you mention it...'

'Leave it, Ron,' Ginny said tiredly. 'You were saying?'

'I'm the one that showed Harry the letters,' he admitted.

'This isn't your fault.'

'If I hadn't brought it to Harry's attention, he wouldn't be gone.' Ron laced his fingers together.

Ginny leaned over and laid a hand over Ron's anxiously twisting fingers. 'It's not your fault. If the tables had been turned, Harry would have done the same thing, if it had been me.'

'Hermione didn't want me to say anything,' Ron said, not looking at Ginny.

'What is it about this place that makes people want to pour their heart out?' Ginny muttered. 'Why didn't she want you to say something? It was clearly hostile.'

'She wanted to treat it like all that hate mail she got our fourth year. Didn't think it was worth the bother.'

Ginny shook her head. 'You did the right thing. If something had happened to either Hermione or Rosie, you would never have forgiven yourself.'

'But you... You got left alone to deal with all this...'

'That's just bad timing, Ron. This whole thing has been one moment of bad timing after another...' Ginny gently squeezed Ron's hands. 'And I'm not alone, git. I've got all of you. Even when you do act like wankers.'

Ron edged the chair closer to Ginny. 'It's been weird, you know?'

'What has?'

'Harry being gone this long. It's been... Years since we haven't seen each other every day.'

Ginny leaned companionably against Ron, like they had when they were children. 'Same here.'

'Do you think he'll be home soon?' Ron asked wistfully.

'I hope so.'

*****

She tapped her fingers on the table. 'Where the hell is he?' she asked the dark room. She had come to the house yesterday afternoon and waited for him to return from his errand to Skye. The note he'd been working on still lay on the cluttered table, half-done. A pile of letters lay next to it, painstakingly arranged into words. 'We didn't plan this one,' she muttered, sifting through the letters, with a ragged fingernail. She resumed the nervous tapping of her fingers on the table. She looked back down at the note, and a smile that was more of a grimace stretched her lips. 'Might as well make use of my time, shouldn't I?' She picked up the first pile of letters and stuck them to the parchment.

She completed the task swiftly and tucked the parchment into her pocket. She transformed into her Animagus form and scuttled under the front door, avoiding the Aurors watching the house. Once she reached a secluded wynd, she regained her human form and Disapparated.

She reappeared outside a comfortable house in the country, edged in ivy. 'How bleeding idyllic,' she sneered. As she approached the front garden gate, something threw her backwards several feet. She tried again to open the gate, only to find herself back in the lane. She reverted to her Amimagus form, and tried to sneak under the gate, but was repelled just the same. Frustrated, she transformed again. Giving the house a wide berth, she circled the garden. It appeared to be uninhabited. Muttering curses under her breath, she realized her prey was not there. 'Where can she be...?' she thought aloud, eyes narrowed at the silent, darkened house. With a gasp of realization, she spun and disappeared.

*****

Molly yawned and stretched, rising early out of long habit. No matter how late she went to bed, she still rose at six in the morning. She pulled on her old dressing gown, and slowly went down the stairs. She stopped on the first floor, peeking into Bill's old room at James, sprawled across the cot in limp abandon as he slept, his ragged black dog tucked under his chubby arm. Molly hoped sometimes, that Ginny wouldn't come see him. It warmed her considerably to see James' face light up when Ginny walked into the room, but it hurt so much to hear his cries when he realized she wasn't there when he woke up from his nap. And if he did wake up in the night, neither she, nor Arthur could easily comfort him, because they weren't Harry or Ginny.

She went down to the kitchen, and set a pot of tea to brewing automatically, able to do it without thinking about it. She opened the back door of the house, reveling in the crisp morning air, the scents of her herb garden still subtle in the dawn breeze. The crackle of parchment under her slippered foot froze the blood in her veins.

Molly looked down and saw a neatly folded piece of parchment under her foot on the step leading up to the door. 'Oh, sweet Merlin,' she breathed. She remembered Harry asking if she'd received any odd notes back in January. If it had been delivered by owl, the owl waited until the recipient took the letter. This was odd, by Molly's definition. She bent and picked up the parchment.

It was addressed to Ginny.

Clutching the note in her hand, Molly raced up the stairs, back into her bedroom. 'Arthur!' she whispered urgently, shaking him awake. 'Arthur, wake up!'

'Hmmmm?' Arthur cracked his eyes open. 'What is it?'

'Look!' Molly thrust the note under his nose.

'It's a letter for Ginny...' Arthur said sleepily, squinting at the name on the front.

'There wasn't an owl,' Molly said urgently. 'Arthur, please wake up!' she said, her voice growing shrill.

'All right, Molly,' Arthur said, sitting up, putting his glasses on. He took the letter from Molly and turned it over in his hands. 'Something's not right...' he stated, his tone growing ominous.

'Should we open it?' Molly asked worriedly.

'I'm not sure,' Arthur murmured.

Molly chewed her bottom lip, thinking, before she snatched the parchment from Arthur's hand, and pried it open. The words she breathed made Arthur glance at her sharply. Molly rarely used anything stronger than "bloody hell", and after saying it in front of Ron when he was three, who then gleefully repeated it to everyone he saw, tried to avoid swearing all together. He pulled the letter out of her fingers, and his own eyes widened as he read what was pasted to the page.

-You have no idea how much I fucking hate you. You ruined my life. You overshadowed everything I've done for the past six years. If I could make you suffer just a fraction of what I've done, I might consider myself satisfied. You don't deserve anything you have.

It was unsigned.

'What do we do?' Molly asked.

Arthur ran a hand over his balding head. 'I'm not sure,' he repeated. 'But I know we're not showing this to Ginny.' He got out of the bed, and shoved it into the pocket of the robes he was going to wear that day. 'I'll...' He adjusted his glasses a few times. 'I'll take it to Kingsley,' he said finally. 'He ought to know how to handle this.'

'Good idea,' Molly said, nodding. 'Are you sure we shouldn't show that to Ginny?'

'I'm sure,' Arthur stated flatly. 'And we're not telling her, either. Not until some of the other issues get settled.'

'She won't like it,' Molly told him. 'She'll think we're being overprotective.'

'I know,' he said heavily. 'But I can't drop this on her on top of everything else.' Arthur got up and shuffled to the door, feeling far older than his fifty-six years. 'I'm going to get dressed,' he said over his shoulder. 'I'll get to the Ministry early. Kingsley's usually there by eight.'

*****

Arthur sat in a chair in the outer area of the Minister of Magic's offices, his foot tapping impatiently. He glanced up as footsteps came down the hallway. Percy walked into the office, stopping on the threshold of the office. 'Dad? What are you doing here?'

'I need to see Kingsley.'

'Is Ginny all right? The baby?' Percy inquired anxiously.

'They're fine, as far as I know. But I need to see Kingsley.'

Percy's head cocked to one side, his sharp glance noting the corner of parchment sticking out of his father's pocket. 'She's gotten one of them, hasn't she? Ginny, I mean.'

'One of what?'

'Anonymous letter.' Percy's lips thinned into a white slash across his face, as he pressed them together in an attempt to keep from vomiting.

'How would you know about that...?' Arthur began to ask, before a light dawned in his eyes. 'You got them, too.' Percy nodded silently. 'Who else?' When Percy started to shake his head, Arthur demanded, 'Who else?"

'Hermione.' It cost Percy a great deal of effort to say it, his mouth barely opening enough for the word to get out.

Arthur paled slightly. 'You're not to say a word to anyone else,' he ordered his son. 'Especially not Ginny.'

'Percy, when is the French Minister coming by?' Shacklebolt's voice rang down the corridor.

'Um...' Percy frantically searched a calendar on his desk. 'Ten.'

'Something's come up with the O.W.L and N.E.W.T. scores. Can you go to Hogwarts later today and handle that? Michel is quite picky when it comes to who he deals with and he won't talk to anyone but me,' Shacklebolt said coming into the office. 'Arthur! How are you?' he greeted the older man warmly.

'I'm fine,' Arthur said stiffly.

'Ginny and the baby are all right?'

'They're fine, but I need to show this to you.' Arthur drew the parchment from his pocket. 'This came for Ginny this morning...' He handed it to Shacklebolt.

Shacklebolt unfolded the parchment, his eyes narrowing. 'I'll be back before ten,' he informed Percy, opening the cupboard where they kept rubbish for Portkeys, and emerging with a much-abused lime green bowler. 'I'll be heartily glad when we use the last of these...' he muttered. He tapped the hat with his wand, muttering the spell. In a moment he disappeared.

*****

Andre stood in the kitchen, wearing his pajamas, doggedly cooking a hot breakfast before he went to sleep. He firmly believed he slept better if he ate something warm before he went to sleep. His French grandfather firmly believed in making sure he and all his siblings knew how to cook basic French cuisine, at the very least. Grandpère would have a stroke if he knew I was having an omelet for breakfast, Andre reflected wryly. His grandfather regarded most English eating habits with a high amount of suspicion. Omelets, in his grandfather's opinion, were not breakfast food. He turned quickly, when he heard a crack in the back garden, dropping the spatula on the counter with a clatter, drawing his wand from the pocket of his pajama bottoms. Shacklebolt burst through the back door. 'Where's Harry?' he asked.

'On Skye.' Andre turned back to his breakfast and slid the omelet onto a plate. 'He'll be back this evening.'

'Damn it,' Shacklebolt growled. 'Tell him I'm coming back this evening, all right?'

'I'll let him know.' Andre began to eat, and looked up at Shacklebolt. 'Everything all right back home?'

'It's fine.'

Andre shrugged and went back to his food.

*****

The Healer who specialized in caring for premature babies bent over Albus. She crooned gently to him, while examining him. Anne McAllister had seen babies in far worse situations than this, and felt he had made significant progress since birth. Had he been born today, at his present weight, which was just about four and a half pounds, she might want to keep him in for a few days, just to make sure he gained weight, and didn't come down with jaundice. She tucked the blanket around him securely and picked up the file from Shanti and the trainees that detailed his development over the last two weeks. He was able to nurse or take a bottle, he only had a Warming charm on his blanket, and he was gaining weight at a good pace. He still had episodes of apnea, but that was something Ginny could handle at home, if they kept the monitor on his ankle, and taught her to use the bag to make him breathe, if he needed it. Anne noted in the file, they had asked if it was possible to do Albus' check ups at their home. Anne knew Ginny had a small child at home, and the less disruption there was to their routine, the better.

She crossed the corridor to Ginny's room, and knocked softly on the door. 'Ginny?'

'Yes?' The door opened, and Ginny stood anxiously in the doorway.

Anne entered the room, and sat in the armchair. 'I'm going to let you go home tomorrow.' She paused and smiled. 'The both of you.'

Ginny sat down hard on the edge of the bed. 'Seriously?'

'Yes. He's doing well, and Ewan will come over once a week to check on him, and I'll have him set that up with you before you leave. I'll also have him train you to use the bag, in case Albus needs it. We're keeping the monitor on him, and all the information will be recorded in a file you'll have with you. If you think there's anything wrong, bring him over here straightaway.'

Ginny let out a short bark of laughter. 'What if it's nothing and I'm just seeing things?'

'I won't think you've gone barking. You've done this before. Trust your instincts. Bring him in if he's not going through as many nappies, or he's losing weight.' Anne patted Ginny on the shoulder. 'You can handle this. And you should really limit visits from family members for the time being. At least for another month or so.'

Ginny raised an appraising eyebrow. 'You mean I can tell my family to bugger off and leave me alone?'

'Well not in those words, if you still want them to talk to you later,' Anne said dryly.

'Yeah. My family means well, but they can be...' Ginny ran her hands through her hair. 'They can hover a bit sometimes.' She held up a hand. 'I know... I'm lucky to have them, but it gets to be a bit much sometimes.'

Anne's mouth quirked in a grin. 'I know.' She rose from the armchair and headed to the door. 'Go on and let someone know that you're going home tomorrow. Probably about three. They can help you get settled when you get home.' She let the door close softly behind her. Ginny stared at the door, with her mouth open. She closed it abruptly with a snap, a list of things to do racing through her head. She had to call Molly and arrange for Arthur to take James to the house. She needed Molly to pack her and James' things and have them taken to the house, too. Then, she needed to get Molly to help her take Albus home.

Home.

Not to the Burrow. But to their home. Ginny's chin trembled and she buried her face in her hands, breathing deeply. She had far too much to do to start crying now. Calmer, Ginny pulled open the door, and made her way to an Apparition point, checking her watch, as she walked. It was James' naptime, so he wouldn't be awake when she got to the Burrow.

*****

Harry trudged into the kitchen with Kathleen, stiff from sitting on a chilly boulder most of the day. 'Go get cleaned up,' he told her wearily. She nodded and plodded to the bathroom.

'Harry, there's a note for you.' Iain indicated a scrap of parchment on the table. Harry picked up the parchment and flicked it open with the edge of his thumb. He blinked at the note a few times, before crumpling it and shoving it in his pocket. He went into the scullery, and poked through his pile of clothes, looking in vain for something that at least looked clean. He really was going to have to do laundry soon. Sighing, he shot a haphazard Scourgify at his clothes, and pulled off his damp jumper and jeans, before wriggling into a dry shirt and jeans. He went back into the kitchen and slumped into a chair, resting his head on his folded arms.

'Here, eat this.' Brianna shoved a bowl of stew across the table. 'You look like you need it.'

Harry picked up his head, and took the spoon Brianna offered him. He moved the vegetables around in the bowl, not really eating anything, until Brianna cleared her throat in a rather Molly-like manner. Harry looked up to see her glaring at him beadily, and guiltily took a few bites of the lamb stew.

'Why's Shacklebolt coming?' Iain asked.

'I don't know.' Harry felt his shoulders tighten as tension radiated across his back.

'You don't think it's anything with your family?' Brianna added.

'I hope not.' Harry sighed heavily through his nose. He didn't want to talk about it right now. He put the half-eaten bowl of stew in the sink, and pulled his notebook across the table, recording the events of the day. It was depressingly brief.

'Think it might be something with that Flanagan bloke?' Iain speculated.

'Could be,' Harry offered. 'Maybe he gave MLE more concrete information.'

Shacklebolt appeared in the back garden, and opened the back door. 'Harry, can I have a word with you?' He went back into the garden, and took a seat on the low wall without waiting for Harry.

Harry pushed himself to his feet and went to join Shacklebolt on the wall. 'What's going on?'

'This.' Shacklebolt thrust the parchment at Harry.

Harry took it, with a puzzled look on his face. He looked down at Ginny's name, printed in block letters. 'When did she get this?'

'This morning. Molly found it.'

'Does Gin know?'

'No.'

'Good.' Harry opened the note and examined it. He grunted when he finished reading. 'He's just a smidge bitter, isn't he?'

'How do you know it's not her?'

'Ginny didn't have anything to do with her house-arrest, but Flanagan despises Ginny.'

'Obviously,' Shacklebolt said sarcastically. 'But there's a hole in your theory,' he pointed out. 'Flanagan was arrested yesterday. The note showed up this morning.'

'If they're working in tandem, and he started it, she had to have finished it,' Harry said, his eyes zooming onto a flake of something stuck to the parchment. 'She went to the house to thinking he would be back from Skye...' he began, the pieces beginning to fall into place. 'This was sitting somewhere, unfinished, and she decided to finish it for him. Just for kicks and giggles...' He pointed to the flake between two of the letters. 'And that is irrefutable proof that she had something to do with this. Without me having to use Legilimency. And that's a good thing, because if you think I react badly to Death Eaters, wait until I have to do it with her.'

'Should we tell Ginny, then?'

Harry sighed and folded the parchment. 'No,' he answered finally. 'Not now.'

After Shacklebolt left, Harry opened the parchment and smoothed it out over his knees. He shook his head slowly, cold rage seeping through his veins. He was going to put them both away in Azkaban for a very long time.