A Secret Love Chapter 13
A Secret Love: Chapter 13
Home Fires
Ginny sat next to Penelope in a large tub of warm water. She gently stroked her fingers down Penelope’s back as the older girl worked through each contraction. Penelope had disassociated herself from her surroundings and was completely self-contained in her efforts. Ginny marveled at the difference from her own experience. While her labour had hit hard and fast, Penelope’s was progressing at a slow and steady rate. Unable to sit still, Ginny had briskly paced her small room at the Dursleys’, alternately clinging to Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore as her pains crested, until she finally collapsed on the floor and delivered her baby on her hands and knees. It looked as though Penelope would manage to give birth to her child a bit more gracefully.
Penelope’s whimpers startled her from her reverie and she focused her attention back onto the labouring woman. Ginny moved behind her and placed both of her hands on her sister-in-law’s lower back. Remembering her own pain, she gradually increased the pressure of her touch and massaged the straining muscles. She was rewarded with Penelope’s groans of relief.
“That’s it, Ginny,” said Madam Pomfrey. “Just keep holding her back like that. Now Penelope, sweetheart, I need you to lean forward. That’s right, dear. Just lay your head against the side of the tub. Breathe. Relax. That’s the ticket.” Madam Pomfrey eased Penelope into a birthing position and poured the contents of a vial into the water. Ginny felt a pleasant tingling against her skin. She imagined the potion must have done a great deal to ease Penelope’s suffering and suddenly wished she’d been able to make it into the water for her own birth.
Ginny’s mum knelt at the edge of the tub and held Penelope’s head. She brushed sweaty strands of hair from her daughter-in-law’s brow and murmured words of encouragement. She looked up over Penelope’s shoulder to Ginny. “Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked.
“Yeah, Mum, I’m doing fine.”
Mother and daughter shared a look of love as they united to help Penelope’s baby into the world.
~ : ~ : ~
Ginny sat by a window overlooking the lake. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in the middle of March. A bright spring sun drove the winter chill from the air and everyone who could, was enjoying a visit to Hogsmeade. In any other circumstance, Ginny would have been quite upset not to be joining her friends in town, but with her three-week-old nephew cuddled against her chest she was content where she was. Listening to Algie’s soft noises quieted her. It was as though he understood her need and was willing to fulfill it. Penelope was tired and frustrated as new mothers are, so she welcomed the time Ginny spent holding the baby.
Mrs. Weasley sat opposite her and worked on her knitting in a companionable silence. There was nothing to talk about, really - anything to do with the war outside Hogwarts was off-limits and Ginny’s classes were devoted entirely to N.E.W.T. revision. There was only a day to be enjoyed and a baby to be held. Mrs. Weasley occasionally glanced at her daughter as though to speak, but then said nothing. Ginny found herself glad that her mother refrained from starting idle conversation. She relished the opportunity to empty her head of troublesome thoughts. Her mind was blissfully blank and her senses were tuned completely into the baby she held. It wouldn’t be long before he would want his mother, but for now he slept peacefully in his aunt’s arms while his mother took a much needed break.
When his soft mewling and rooting caught Ginny’s attention, she rose from her seat and carried him into the other room. It was in these moments, when she had to give the son to his mother, that she truly felt the loss of her own baby. She wanted so much to be the one to attend his needs, but she wasn’t the one who could. Penelope roused immediately from her nap when Ginny sat down next to her. Smiling sleepily, she took the baby from Ginny and situated him at her breast where he greedily began to nurse. Ginny smiled sadly at mother and son and rose to leave the room.
“Ginny?” said Penelope, halting her progress.
“Yes?” she answered softly.
“Thank-you.”
Ginny smiled and left the room. Her mum and Penelope had both been impressed with her willingness to attend Algie’s birth and how involved she’d been from the birthing to changing nappies to holding him so that Penelope could rest. Perhaps one day they would both understand that Ginny had been only too willing to help; she’d needed to help. In just under three weeks, her other self would be giving birth to Gwendolen. In just under three months, her other self would be leaving Gwendolen behind in the care of Petunia Dursley. She’d come to think of herself as two people; it was easier to handle the loss of her child if it had happened not to her, but the other Ginny.
~ : ~ : ~
The days and nights crept by as Ginny went through the motions of turning up for her lessons. She spent every free moment with her mother, Penelope and the baby. With all of the fifth and seventh years in the midst of intense revision, no one seemed to notice Ginny’s frequent disappearances. In fact, it wasn’t all that unusual. Several students preparing for exams had ferreted out private places to study in peace.
At the end of Transfiguration on the ninth of April, Professor McGonagall asked Ginny to stay after class. Mary and Hera gave her sympathetic looks as they left the room. Ginny shrugged, rolling her eyes drolly, and she was rewarded with their snorts of amusement. They knew she was taking “remedial Transfiguration” and probably thought McGonagall wanted to discuss her progress in the class. She always had a little laugh at her friends’ gullibility. Transfiguration wasn’t her best class, but she wasn’t that bad.
“Professor Dumbledore would like to have a word with you,” said McGonagall and she led the way out of the classroom. Ginny had to step quickly to match her brisk pace as she followed her up to the headmaster’s office.
“Canary Cream,” muttered McGonagall. She ushered Ginny into the spiral staircase, which had spun open and then strode off down the hall. Ginny heaved a sigh as she climbed the steps. Some students went an entire seven years without seeing the inside of the headmaster’s office; right now she wished she was one of them. When she entered the room, she was surprised to see Dumbledore, not sitting at his desk, but standing over by a window. He gazed out over Hogwarts grounds and did not immediately acknowledge Ginny’s presence.
“It is not wise to tamper with time,” he said finally, as he continued to look out of the window, “but I find that I must. The Order is staging an offensive against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The time has come for me to leave the castle and take a more overt role in our operations, but there is still the matter of your baby to be dealt with.”
He turned to face her and she stifled a gasp of surprise. She had never seen such a look of dire seriousness on his face before. Gone was the grace and dignity she was accustomed to and in its place was a man ready for war.
“I have avoided asking you about Gwendolen because any knowledge of what the future brings can be dangerous. You let her name slip, but I know nothing else. I would have listened had you needed to talk, but you did not search me out. Now I find my presence is required elsewhere and I will not be here to receive any signal from your other self when the time comes. I must ask you if I was present for the birth of your child and if I was, when will she be born?”
Ginny mulled over the implications of this for several moments before responding, “You were there. My other self will go into labour on the evening of the sixteenth, around midnight.”
She turned to leave, not interested in any further conversation with the man who held so many strings to the puppets in this war.
“Ginny.”
She paused. The tone of his voice had almost a pleading note to it and it caused her to turn back around, but she remained silent.
“You’re upset with me. You know that there is more to Percy’s abduction than anyone is telling you and I’m sure your mother has told you about the evacuation of Grimmauld place. There is safety in secrecy, Ginny. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that, but I would try to answer your questions.”
“Will the answers bring me any peace?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
Dumbledore closed his eyes and lowered his head. “I thought not,” laughed Ginny, mirthlessly.
“I have no peace of mind to give at the moment, but perhaps your mother does. Tell her about Gwendolen, Ginny. Let her share in the burden you carry.”
~ : ~ : ~
All in all it had been a strange week. Dumbledore hadn’t been seen since Ginny’s conversation with him. Not two days later, Snape disappeared as well leaving McGonagall to take over some of his classes while Madam Pomfrey took over the more advanced ones. The school was abuzz with questions concerning the Potions Master’s whereabouts but no one dared ask either of his replacements for information. Ginny kept her own counsel on the subject, realizing that this meant Snape had returned to the Death Eaters. He would turn up dead soon enough if his ruse was detected, otherwise he wouldn’t likely be heard from until Voldemort was defeated.
Ginny found it difficult to wrap her mind around Friday morning’s Potions lesson. It was the sixteenth. She’d managed to keep all thoughts of what was simultaneously going on at Privet Drive out of her head for most of the term. On the morning before her daughter’s birth, though, she was having no such luck. While others worked diligently on their potions, she was lost in the memory of her conversation with Petunia that morning. Had she really been so brave as to rebuke Petunia for her treatment of Harry? Had any of it really happened? This time tomorrow, there would be a baby, right?
Madam Pomfrey paused by her table and noted her lack of progress. “See me after class,” she murmured.
Ginny nodded vaguely and attempted to turn her focus back to her work. In the end, she decided it wasn’t worth the danger to life and limb to continue and opted to pack up her materials instead. Despite the looks of astonishment from the other students, she simply sat at her table and waited patiently for the end of the period. As the other students filed out of the room, she made her way to the front where Madam Pomfrey awaited her.
“It’s going to happen today, isn’t it,” Madam Pomfrey started, without preamble.
“Yes, tonight,” Ginny blurted out, startled.
“Then perhaps you ought to take rest of the day off. I’ll notify your teachers that you aren’t feeling well,” she offered.
“Could I go to my mother’s rooms?” asked Ginny tentatively.
“Yes dear,” replied Madam Pomfrey in a gentle voice. “I’ll take you up there now.”
~ : ~ : ~
Ginny sat in the alcove by the window, cuddling her nephew and staring out into the grey and drizzly day. It was one of those in-between days where the clouds clung to the earth in a way that made you certain it would rain, but it never did. It was futile to wish for sun, but Ginny willed the clouds to give her a violent storm. Something, anything, to break up the depressing haze.
Penelope leaned in and plucked her son from Ginny’s arms. As she retired into her rooms, Ginny’s mother took her place in the chair across from Ginny. Ginny sighed heavily and continued to look out the window, studiously ignoring her mother’s questioning gaze.
“Ginny, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. Why aren’t you in class?”
Ginny fidgeted with her hands in her lap, as she often did when she was nervous. “I don’t know where to start,” she whispered finally.
“Why not start at the beginning?” her mother encouraged.
The beginning? Ginny wracked her brain for a moment. Had there been a beginning? At the moment it seemed as though her life had always been in turmoil. She closed her eyes tightly; there had been a beginning, though, and she recalled the night that had led her to this.
“I guess the beginning would have been the night we learned of Charlie’s death.” Her mother gasped audibly but Ginny didn’t look up. If she was to get this all out, she was going to have to keep talking. “It was the night before they all went off to Auror training. It was also Harry’s birthday, but everyone had forgotten; even him.”
Ginny didn’t dare look up at her mother, instead she kept an even gaze over the grey world outside the window. In a toneless voice, she recounted the events of the last nine months, including the months she’d had to relive. If her mother had had any reaction to what she was saying, she blocked it out. Having unloosed the dam, words flowed from her as if they weren’t hers; she was merely the vessel.
“And tonight my other self will go into labour,” she murmured. “In the morning, Gwendolen will be born.”
She paused then and looked at her mother. Whatever she had thought her mother’s reaction would be, it wasn’t this. The older woman sat there expressionlessly staring out the window. Ginny’s story had been too much for her to take in and react to, so she’d withdrawn into herself, much the way her daughter had. Ginny swallowed at the lump in her throat and rose from her chair. Her mother’s vulnerability was too uncomfortable for her to bear. She left the alcove for her mother’s rooms and lay down upon the bed.
~ : ~ : ~
Molly watched with satisfaction as the clouds broke and the heavy rain began to fall. In almost thirty years of parenting, she’d only been so completely at a loss for reaction one other time. When Percy had left home, she hadn’t known what to do. He was an adult and capable of making his own decisions and he’d chosen to turn his back on his family. She’d felt as though she was being torn limb from limb when her son had divorced himself from the family. When he’d returned, she’d know just how to welcome him back, but she hadn’t known how to live with him gone.
Now she didn’t know how to handle what Ginny had just told her. She could have dealt with Ginny telling her that Harry had got her pregnant. She would have been disappointed in her daughter for not waiting until she was at least out of school, if not married, but she could have handled it. This was more than that, though. Ginny hadn’t confided in her. She’d gone to the headmaster and together they’d hatched some unbelievable plan and even now her little girl was pregnant and alone and scared. How could Dumbledore send her baby to live with those awful Muggles? Hadn’t they been abusive enough to Harry?
Molly moved to the sitting room and took her place by the fire in the rocking chair. Madam Pomfrey stopped by to check on Ginny, but Molly paid her no notice. The nurse was just another accomplice in the scheme that had taken Ginny from her. Penelope had come out with the baby and joined her for dinner while Ginny remained ensconced in the bedroom. Penelope had sensed the tension and had chosen not to speak, but picked at her food in silence. Not for the first time, Molly wished her daughter-in-law had a little more backbone; she could have used the diversion of someone to converse with. Penelope sneaked back into her rooms and Molly finally dozed off in her chair with her knitting in her lap.
It was early morning when a loud knock at the door startled her from her fitful slumber. Wild eyed and ragged, Albus Dumbledore burst through the door. “Where is she?” he asked breathlessly.
Molly rose slowly, her knitting falling heedlessly to the floor. While short in stature, she still felt herself tower over the taller man and he seemed to shrink beneath her glowering. “How. Dare. You!” she bellowed.
“I know where you’ve been! You took my rightful place at my daughter’s side. You usurped my role as a mother and guided my daughter down this false path. You split her in two with your meddling and have left me helpless - there’s nothing left for me to do but to sit and watch your plots tear her apart.”
“I made my own choices, Mum.” Molly spun around to see her daughter standing bleary-eyed on the other side of the room.
“I’ll even go so far as to say I made them for the wrong reasons. It was cowardly of me, but I didn’t want anyone to know that I had been so stupid as to get myself pregnant. I felt so ashamed, I was certain that you and Dad would hate me and that Harry would feel trapped and resent me. I wanted to hide far, far away, where no one would ever find out.”
“You didn’t get yourself pregnant,” murmured Dumbledore. “Harry had a hand in that.”
Ginny shrugged. “It was still my own cowardice that sent me to you and you gave me the choice. I could be brave and tell Harry and my parents the truth, or I could run away. I told myself it was for Harry’s sake, but you and I both know I did it for me.”
Molly crumpled and landed back in the chair from which she’d been sitting in. “Why, Ginny?” she cried. “Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you tell me? You’re my daughter; I love you. Nothing could change that.”
Ginny knelt opposite her and gazed at her earnestly. “You don’t understand, Mum,” she said. “I may have done it for the wrong reasons, but it was still the right thing to do. Gwendolen made me brave. I didn’t have to take hold of the Portkey and head back to Hogwarts, but I did. No one forced me to pick up the Timeturner and turn it six times. I did it for Gwendolen. Harry and I were foolish and careless and we will both suffer the consequences of that, but Gwendolen had no part in it. She doesn’t deserve to pay for our mistakes. She’s safe, and even if Harry and I both die, she has a chance at life.”
Ginny’s words stabbed at her. Suddenly Molly wasn’t so angry, but incredibly sad. Her daughter had suffered so much, but would Molly have sacrificed any less for any of her children?
“The wheels of fate are turning, Molly. We will know soon enough if our preparations for battle will see us through or not.”
Molly looked up at Dumbledore, whom she’d forgotten was in the room. “Then it’s time for me to leave the castle and take my place with my husband and sons.”
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “You can’t leave the castle, Molly; you know about Gwendolen. We can’t risk having you captured and questioned. Finding out about his daughter at this point would completely derail Harry. We cannot give Voldemort that weapon.”
“Then why did you encourage me to tell her?” asked Ginny suddenly. “It was as hard to tell her as it was to keep a secret. I could have just as easily stayed silent!”
Understanding sparked within Molly and grew as she stared up at the headmaster. He was the puppet master and they were all his marionettes.
“Arthur begged me to keep you safe,” he said, his eyes pleading with her for forgiveness. “I have had to take so much from him, I had to give him that. Is it really so bad wait this out, knowing that your husband lives to come home to you?”
So, it was her place to keep the home fires burning? Perhaps she’d find a way to burn down the castle with them.
“Well go then,” she ground out furiously. “Go and fight your war and leave us to whatever peace we can find!”
Dumbledore laughed mirthlessly. “I’m not going anywhere. I too have to trust that I’ve done enough and that everyone outside the castle will manage to do their part. I have to wait and believe in Harry and have hope that he will prevail. You see, I too know about Gwendolen.”
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