The Viridian Wand Chronicles

 

*~CHAPTER 3 - "Celebrate You"~* 

 

Ginny took a deep breath. She didn't want to hurt him, but he had to know the truth. 

 

"Harry," she said softly, "Who discovered Hermione and Ron's bodies?" 

 

He shuddered. "Please, please, don't ask me to tell you about it...It was terrible..." 

 

"You. Alright. All I want to know is this: how did you recognize them, and where was Mica?" 

 

"The baby?" 

 

"Yes, the baby. Mica Stella! Only a month old, she was born in May..." Harry looked at her desperately. She could hear him, clearly thinking to her, pleading with her to let those old memories lay low. "I could channel your thoughts. Find the memory for you. I am a medium, after all." 

 

"No," he said hesitantly, then, more firmly. "I'll tell you. I saw them...the fire had wreaked havoc on them...I could see the edge of her favourite robes, his hair...I didn't see Mica." 

 

"Thank you." She leaned across the small distance to take one of his hands in her own. "I mean, really, thank you. You've just proved to me that I'm not entirely crazy." 

 

"Oh?" She sat back, releasing him in time enough to observe him raising his eyebrow as he spoke. 

 

"Voldemort did not kill Hermione and Ron. He could not have, because you were their secret keeper.

 

"When we came home from our honeymoon, we found their house a pile of smoldering rubble. You ran off, defeated Voldemort just before he took Hogwarts, and kept running. I started training under Lupin. 

 

"I woke up the night before last at 11:09 PM. I'm one of the few Realm Watchers sensitive enough to sleep on duty, and I had just dozed off before I sensed something funky going on. A giant amount of power was being channeled to establish contact between the metaphysical realm and Earth. I felt Voldemort. I got the impression of a permeation of evil. But that wasn't the power. 

 

"It was the power that amazed me. 

 

"I would say that power - generally speaking - is very personal. A wizard who is well educated, whether male or female, will have more refined power, and more command over it. This power was fully under command, but it was raw. The effort would have put any normal wizard under for two days, Harry. It was a massive amount of pure power. 

 

"Then I really sensed the witch behind it. Little or no training. Her wand is not of Olivander origin. Very intelligent. Not good or evil. Fearless. 

 

"It seemed to me much like the magic of a child. The lack of intentions especially. As if the child were obeying a command. 

 

"I thought of Mica. She was the only child never really accounted for. Then I realized, if Mica wasn't dead, someone must have kidnapped her. But why her? It would make much more sense if her parents were taken, great wizards that they were. And here I become confused. Only a Muggle could have found them to kill them, since they have no magical ability. But why would one? Assuming a wizard had found them, and kidnapped them, the two dead bodies could have been of others, under a Glamour. But a wizard couldn't have found them..." Ginny trailed off. "She tried, but failed, to contact him again last night. Did your scar hurt?" 

 

"Actually, it did, but not so sharply as the first time." 

 

"What if she tries again tonight?" 

 

"We could make contact with her. At least you could, you're a medium." 

 

"It's possible. Personally, I think that you could certainly mind reach if you tried, or I could channel some of your power. It does get quite exhausting." 

 

"Shall I owl Percy?" 

 

"Oh, by all means. You're going to be much, much later than ten past six," Ginny said with a smirk. As much as her brother annoyed her, when he wasn't being a stuffy politician he had some good ideas... 

 

Harry suppressed a chuckle, and said nonchalantly, "You know, Lupin was my boss too..." 

 

If her face wasn't as flaming red as her hair, Ginny Weasley reflected, then she would eat the Sorting Hat. Or her hat. Or something. 

 

"You could just eat the popcorn that you have in your kitchen, you know. Probably would taste a good sight better." 

 

Ginny buried her face in her hands. "I swear, Harry Potter, moments like these make me wonder why I married you! In fact, sometimes I wonder why I love you at all." 

 

"Well," Harry said with a sigh, "it's not as if either of us ever really got much of a chance to find out why you do." 

* * * * *

"It's quarter to four, Percy. He's not back yet," George said, glaring at the clock. He and Fred had been going over the W.W.W. (Weasley's Wizard Wheezes) accounts, and Percy had been seeing to some paperwork that had to be done. 

 

"So you're giving up?" Percy asked. 

 

"Well...if he walked out of there at approximately ten past six, disheveled...yes. But until then, no." 

 

"Oh, I'll get the best of you two." 

 

"Penelope would be surprised to hear you've been joining in on such childish games." Fred nodded in agreement, and then went back to his papers. 

 

"She'd be delighted. At least the children would be," Percy replied thoughtfully. He had been married to Penelope Clearwater for eight years. The duo was currently waiting the birth of child number four. 

 

"Speaking of kids, are you two planning to break Mum and Dad's record for 'Most Children Living Under Roof at Same Time'?" Fred inquired. 

 

"Not planning, no..." 

 

"But it will happen anyway!" Fred said with a smile. 

 

"It's not like you two were even in the running to breaking that particular record. Still confirmed bachelors?" 

 

"Yes!" was George's ardent reply. 

 

"Until I secure Angelina Johnson as my date for the party of life, yes," Fred said reluctantly. His brothers' eyes practically popped out of their heads. "Oh, you two. You operate on another planet!" 

* * * * *

Ginny considered this. "Well, there was the honeymoon," she said uncertainly. 

 

Harry chuckled, and remarked, "What was Ron's definition of a honeymoon anyway? It eludes me." 

 

"I believe it was 'Minimal sightseeing, maximum leisure time'. At least that was what Hermione said." 

 

"To give her credit, at least she gave you the PC version. As far as you can actually consider that PC." 

 

"If three weeks in Jamaica don't count...You still saved my life. Several times. And you don't snore." 

 

"True. You don't snore either." 

 

"You let me throw your mother's prized Waterford crystal against the wall." 

 

"You let me into the house unharmed despite the fact you wanted to bash crockery over my head and assail me with the Furnuculus charm." 

 

"They said we were a great match, once." 

 

"We still could be." 

 

"No, Harry," she said, rising from the couch and going over to the window. He followed her and she turned around to face him. "We still are." 

 

"You'd forgive me for what I did to you?" 

 

"Terrible things happened. If you'll forgive yourself...I've already forgiven you." 

 

"So you do consider me worth missing the X-Files for," Harry said, or started to say, for before he had completed the fourth word, he was wrapped around his wife, and kissing her as if the five years that had passed were naught.

 

"You know," Ginny remarked when she came up for air, "we'll never get anything done at this rate." 

 

"I don't know about that," said Harry, disentangling himself. 

 

"You've spent far too much time with my brothers. Before you know it, you'll be feeding poor old Dumbledore Canary Creams when he comes to tea."  

 

"No, I wouldn't. I much prefer the Ton Tongue Toffees myself." 

 

"Speaking of my brothers..." Ginny got up and walked over to a desk in a corner of the room. After writing a short message on a bit of parchment, she tied it to the leg of her owl, Bodicea, and let the bird out the window. 

 

"Owling Percy?" Harry inquired. 

 

"Yes. We haven't much time, only a few hours to prepare. She usually starts by 11. Gather your things." 

 

"Why?" 

 

"We'll have to do it in the bedroom." 

* * * * *

"Focus...focus..." the old man said. Abram. The child kept forgetting. Lowell wasn't helping this time, and now it was only the old man holding her hands. But they needed three. He doesn't know, the child reasoned. She summoned her powers. 

 

"Lowell." It was the first time the man had heard her speak, and he jumped. Her voice was as soft and sweet as any five-year-olds. 

 

"Lowell! Get over here!" Abram shouted, terrified. Well, he ought to be, the child thought. 

 

One hand she gave to Lowell on her left, one to Abram on her right. She concentrated on the fire...she had to do as Lowell said. Make him come. In the fire. Focus...Focus... 

 

"Well done, child," the man hissed softly. The child didn't like the man. She knew Abram and Lowell feared him, revered him, but to her fear was something unknown. Lowell was a fool...but she must do what Lowell had said. 

 

"Master," Lowell cried, kneeling in front of him. Disgusting, the child thought. 

 

"Quite right, girl. Get up off your knees, woman! You sicken me. It is revolting to think that a Squib is guardian to such a child as the one that grants me my appearance, but at least you are no Mudblood. And you, Abram Malfoy! You who pretended to know naught of the Death Eaters at your trial!" The man shook his head. 

 

"But I have plans to raise you from the dead, Master!" cried Abram. 

 

"Plans, yes. But no action. What repulses me most is that a Mudblood witch is the only one powerful enough to bring me back. What of Draco Malfoy?" 

 

"In darkest Azkaban, my Lord." 

 

"Pitiful! A bunch of dimwits, a traitor and a squib, using a five-year-old Mudblood girl-" 

 

The child sneered at him and spit at his image. The fire flickered. 

 

"Master, please, don't anger her, she's your only hope-" Lowell pleaded. 

 

"She's an insolent brat, just like her mother!" 

 

The child was furious. She did not know who or where her mother was, but that did not contain her temper. No one had ever talked back to her. She screamed, picked up a handful of dirt, and threw it in the fire. From her robes she plucked a long, dull green object, and she pointed it straight at the fire. 

 

"Extinguo!" she yelped, and then crumpled to the floor in exhaustion. With a hiss of water on fire, the hearth was extinguished. 

 

Abram picked up the Viridian Wand. He turned to Lowell, waving the slim emerald in her face. 

 

"I told you not to give her this thing!"