A Secret Love Chapter 5
A Secret Love: Chapter 5
Out of the Frying Pan and into Hiding
Petunia worked industriously in the kitchen while her precious Dudley, home from University for the holidays, was up in his room playing video games. Thank goodness, she thought to herself, that Vernon isn’t due home until six. She had initially been a bit perturbed that he would work so late on Christmas Eve, but not having him in the house at four o’clock would certainly make things easier. She wasn’t worried about Dudley as he wasn’t likely to emerge from his room until supper was set upon the table and the smell of food had begun to waft up the stairs. She looked up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost four. She checked the ham in the oven one last time and walked upstairs, making her way down the hall to the smallest bedroom. She paused briefly by her son’s door to assure herself that he was keeping himself occupied. Dudley never lifted his gaze from the TV and Petunia was certain he hadn’t even noticed her.
As she entered the drab, smaller bedroom Petunia scanned it with distaste. There was very little left behind to hint at its previous occupant. Just a year old calendar with days in July marked off. July 31st had stars neatly drawn around it with the word FREEDOM written across it in bold letters. The sparsely furnished room contained a small bed, a wardrobe, a desk and chair, and a pram tucked in the corner. On the desk sat a large, oddly intricate hourglass with a long chain, a ratty old sock and a sealed letter written on parchment. The window, which faced the garden, had frosted glass so that it let in a hazy light but you could neither see out of it or, more importantly, in. It could not be opened, her dear Vernon had seen to that. After checking that the room was still as clean as it ought to be Petunia sat stiffly in the rickety wooden chair and nervously awaited her guest.
A redheaded girl appeared suddenly from the air. She stumbled backward forcefully and landed against the bed frame. Wincing in pain, the girl slowly straightened herself and brushed off her robes. She remained silent as Petunia studied her owlishly. The girl was a witch all right, albeit a slightly ragged one. Her robes were too short with threadbare patches in several places and she had hair that was unkempt and in need of a good cut. Her shoes were faded and scuffed and her socks didn’t match. But what made Petunia most upset was the fact the girl held a wand.
“You’ll keep that out of my sight,” said a prim Petunia, waving a dismissive hand at the wand. “I am Petunia Dursley. You may call me Mrs. Dursley if you find you must address me. You’re Ginny I take it.”
Ginny suppressed the urge to tell the vile woman that she knew exactly who she was. Biting back the insolent retort, Ginny tucked away her wand and mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”
“I will not have my family disturbed by your presence,” Petunia went on, shrilly. “You will not leave this room. I will push your meals through the flap in the door.” Ginny turned an appalled eye to the cat flap, which was installed in the lower portion of the bedroom floor. “That MAN has placed MAGIC on this room and has assured me that we will be unable to hear a sound out of you. He also assures me that you will cooperate and my husband and son will NEVER be aware of your existence.” Petunia paused and waited for Ginny’s affirmative nod before she continued. “I believe there are further instructions over there,” she said, pointing to the parchment on the desk. Petunia then swept out of the room leaving Ginny to her own devices.
Ginny’s mind raced. The Dursleys? She had been sent to stay with Harry’s muggle relatives? Ginny let go of the breath she’d been holding and leaned against the bed. It made some sense, she supposed. After all, Harry had been successfully hidden with them for ten years, and it wasn’t as though he would ever stop by for a casual visit and accidentally find her. He loathed the Dursleys passionately and now that he was free from their guardianship he wouldn’t be back. Ginny hefted herself onto the bed and stared at the objects on the desk. There was a sock to match the one she’d used to travel to the Dursleys, a large hourglass which Ginny assumed to be the Timeturner and a flap of parchment. She sighed and decided not fetch the parchment. There would be time enough later for “further instructions.” Exhausted, she lay back and fell into a deep sleep.
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The clinking of dishes on a tray roused Ginny from her impromptu nap. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The enticing aroma from the food wafted upwards from the cat flap and her stomach rudely informed her of its emptiness. Looking down at the steaming tray Ginny was surprised by the abundance of food it held. She scooted off the bed and went to retrieve her dinner. On the main plate there were two large slices of baked ham, a mound of peas and heaping serving of mashed potatoes. A smaller plate held a warm mince pie that was dripping with cream. There was a large glass of milk as well as a jug of water with a smaller glass of its own. She lifted the tray onto the bed taking care not to spill its contents and, sitting cross-legged beside it, she tucked in.
Ginny stared down at the empty dishes in amazement. She’d never been overly fond of mince pie but she’d eaten every crumb of that, as well as every other scrap of food on the plates. She gingerly lifted the tray and climbed off the bed, setting the tray with the dirty dishes down on the floor by the cat flap and standing the jug of water on her desk. She glanced quickly at the parchment, still sealed, on the desk. She started to reach for it and turned instead for the wardrobe. Perhaps there were some nightclothes to be had in there… she could read Dumbledore’s letter tomorrow.
Ginny pulled the handle on the wardrobe and let out a small gasp of delight. She took a step up through the doors and into a small study. The starkness of the room she left behind was contrasted by the lavishness of the one she entered. It was like stepping into a smaller, much smaller, version of the Gryffindor Common Room. Off to her left was an overstuffed chair, which could have held three of her. It was turned towards a large fireplace that was topped by an ornate marble mantlepiece. On the mantle hung a stocking with her name on it and Ginny felt a sharp pang of misery as she was reminded of the season. The fireplace should have been much more plain, with more stockings and hand-made decorations on top of it. Ginny pulled her thoughts away from childhood memories of Christmas with her family and finished looking around the room. To her right was a wall of shelves filled with books. On one shelf lay rolls of blank parchment, several quills and some ink. Ginny grinned, apparently being pregnant and in hiding was no excuse to fall behind in one’s studies.
Directly opposite the doors of the wardrobe was another door. With a little trepidation, Ginny turned the ornate handle and pushed it open. She found herself in a rather lavish bathroom, which was dominated by a large oval bath that had been sunk into the middle of the warm tiled floor. A toilet was tucked into a corner and a sink, surrounded by a counter top, was on the far wall. There were plenty of cabinets and a full-length mirror. Ginny’s eyes widened in shock when she caught her reflection. She’d never been one to preen, but she wasn’t usually so lax in her appearance. Her hair was straggly and her face so pale… and her robes were a bit tight. Ginny wrenched her gaze from the mirror and continued to survey the bathroom. Exploration of the cabinets turned up towels, soaps, clothes and all sorts of odd and ends that she would need in the upcoming months. The label on one of the robes she’d discovered glared up at her: Madam Malkin’s Magical Maternity Wear. Ginny sank to the floor as the reality of her situation began to sink in. She sighed and placed a hand over the slight swell of her stomach with the awful realization that her school robes weren’t going to do for much longer.
~ : ~ : ~
Harry sat quietly in the kitchen, nursing a warm butterbeer. The papers and plans had all been cleared away and the rest of the Order had gone up to bed. Most Order members stayed at Grimmauld Place these days, that is when they weren’t out working. Very little concession had been made for the Christmas holidays. There were no decorations. What presents there were, would be given out privately. There would be no gluttonous shredding of wrapping paper early in the morning. Mrs. Weasley had planned a special dinner for those Order members who could attend, but even that was likely to descend into cold, hard business.
Harry’s thoughts gradually drifted from Order of the Phoenix business to Ginny. He was glad she’d opted to remain at Hogwarts. Dumbledore still managed to keep most of the outside world from affecting the day-to-day operations of the school. The Christmas celebration was certain to be as lavish as always. She could open her presents, enjoy the feast and celebrate the day without all the cares that hampered Grimmauld Place. It was better that they not be near each other, not after what he’d done to her the previous summer. Harry sighed as he cleared his mind of those memories; the best thing he could do for her now was not think about her.
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