The Funeral
Author's note: For anyone who has been following this story since the beginning, please ensure that you read and review Chapter 4 before reading this chapter. There was some error with the original upload of Chapter 4, which meant that it didn't show up as a new/recent update and so you might have missed it.
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is a work of imagination and is directed solely at readers of this website. No infringement of any rights is intended and no criticism of J.K. Rowling or her work should be considered to be stated or implied.
Part 5. Ginny's Dilemma
Harry had gone straight to St. Mungo's as soon as he got back to London. The sky in London was overcast and a faint drizzle hung in the air, exacerbating Harry's general feeling of melancholy. He had always hated visiting the hospital. Given the effectiveness of relatively well known remedial charms and potions within the wider magical community, it was generally only the very serious cases that found their way to St. Mungo's. Therefore, despite the best efforts of the staff to make the place bright and welcoming, Harry always felt that it exuded an aura of despair and hopelessness. He also found the artificially pleasant scent that pervaded the wards and corridors to be sickening and false.
Harry took an elevator to the floor on which Ron's ward was located and walked quickly along the corridor, his feet squelching on the grey linoleum floor that he knew was charmed to stay clean and presentable. However, to his surprise he found that Ron was no longer in his usual bed. A nurse informed him that Ron had been moved to a private room at the end of the corridor; a fact that Harry took to be an ominous sign.
The door to the room was standing open and, pausing on the threshold, Harry saw Hermione occupying the sole visitor's chair, her back toward him, shoulders slumped and head bowed. Hermione was dressed in a simple grey cardigan and skirt with a white blouse. Her unruly hair was pulled back into a loose pony tail, fastened with a black elastic ribbon. Ron, his eyes closed, was lying on his back in a metal-framed bed, his red hair partly concealed in the fold of a pristine white pillow and his arms, clad in his usual striped pyjamas, resting on the top of the cream coloured blanket that was drawn up to his chest. Hermione's coat, a dark navy blue, was draped across the end of the bed. The room was almost a perfect square in shape; the far wall divided horizontally into thirds by a row of windows in the centre, letting in plenty of natural light, even with the gloomy conditions outside. Apart from the bed and single chair, the room held only two narrow, white, free-standing bedside cabinets, one placed against the wall at either side of the bed, and a folding, green, fabric screen, set in a white tubular metal frame that could be wheeled around the bed to provide privacy. The soft sound of Harry's footsteps, as he entered, alerted Hermione who turned around and glanced towards him.
"Harry," she cried, pushing her self out of the chair and flinging her arms around his neck, her head pressing against his chest. "I knew that you'd get here."
Harry felt the urge to hug Hermione closely to him, but not trusting his instincts and concerned about any lingering effects of "transference", he instead held her lightly, murmuring meaningless words of consolation.
"It's OK. Everything is going to be OK."
Hermione raised her head, looking directly at Harry, her eyes glistening.
"It's not, Harry. I don't think that he's going to get better. I don't know what I can do."
Hermione slumped back into the chair, shaking her head in a hopeless gesture.
Harry rested his hand gently on her shoulder. "Hermione, you look exhausted. Why don't you let me take over here for a while. Go and get something to eat or drink. I'll watch Ron".
Hermione looked up. "I am thirsty and I really could use the toilet. Look, I'll go for a few minutes, but only if you promise to come and get me if Ron wakes up."
"I'll get you if anything happens," Harry replied, slipping into the chair, still warm with the heat from Hermione's body, as she rose and hesitantly moved out into the corridor.
Ron looked peaceful and untroubled, but his cheeks were hollow and folds in the skin below his jaw indicated that he had lost a lot of weight. Harry leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bed cover, to look more closely. The movement seemed to arouse Ron and he slowly opened his eyes, focusing with difficulty on Harry's face.
"Harry, how are you, mate?" Ron whispered, hoarsely.
"Never, mind about me," Harry smiled, "you rest and try to get better."
Ron's shook his head weakly, returning Harry's smile.
"After all of the things that we have been through together, who would have thought that a non-entity like McBride would do for me," he muttered.
"He hasn't." Harry tried to sound reassuring. "You've got to fight it mate."
"I'm not stupid Harry," Ron replied. "There's only one person who's ever survived the killing curse and we both know who that is, don't we?"
Harry couldn't find anything to say.
"Promise me one thing," Ron continued slowly. "Look after my sister and make sure that Hermione's OK. Will you do that for me?"
That was actually two very different things, Harry thought to himself and he didn't really see how they could now be accomplished together. He remained silent not knowing how to respond.
However, it seemed that Ron didn't need an answer. He closed his eyes again and appeared to drift back to sleep. Harry sensed some movement behind him and glanced towards the doorway. Ginny was hovering there, seemingly uncertain whether to enter. She was dressed soberly; her long, flaming red hair accentuated against a black knee-length coat, black nylon tights and black shoes. Her face was very pale. Harry quickly looked away, concentrating his attention back on Ron and, after a moment, he heard Ginny's footsteps retreating into the corridor.
Ron suddenly opened his eyes again, but appeared unable to focus properly.
"Where's Hermione?"
He sounded agitated and Harry squeezed his arm in reassurance.
"She's just outside, Ron. I'll get her for you."
Harry quickly moved out into the corridor, where Hermione was just returning, looking flustered but slightly less weary. There was no sign of Ginny.
"Ron's asking for you," he informed her.
"OK, I'll go back and sit with him. I was coming anyway."
Harry grasped Hermione's arm as she moved past.
"I'm just going to pop home to make sure that my things have arrived, but I'll be right back. Just try to stay calm and keep positive. It might not be as bad as it seems."
"Thanks for the break, Harry. I really needed it." Hermione gave him a weak smile and continued into the room, without looking back.
Harry walked slowly down the corridor towards the nurses' station, his head bowed and a deep frown creasing his brow. Ron's condition was worse than he had expected and he felt helpless. He knew all about the killing curse, but he had been certain that he could deflect it or at least lessen its' effect. But perhaps that was exactly what he had done; bought Ron a few more years of life, nothing more.
"You know, don't you?"
It was Ginny's voice, coming from behind him. Harry turned to face her, anger welling up inside him.
"Yes, I know! How could you do it, Gin?"
Ginny looked down at her hands, clasped in front of her. She shook her head.
"What's the use? You'd never believe me anyway," she said sadly.
"Why don't you try me?" Harry couldn't help sounding petulant and discouraging.
"Not here. Can we at least sit down somewhere?" Ginny asked, walking towards him and finally meeting his eyes.
A visitor's room opened off the corridor, just before the nurses' station. It was a small cluttered space with no windows and a carpeted floor. The perimeter of the room was dotted with various, mismatched chairs and tables. It was deserted at the moment and so, Harry directed Ginny inside and they sat opposite each other in two low, sagging armchairs separated by an oval, wooden coffee table.
"Well?" Harry challenged, making no attempt to disguise his anger.
Ginny sat quietly for a while, clasping and unclasping her hands, before suddenly looking up, her cheeks streaked with tears.
"It was Voldermort!" she blurted out. "At least, I'm sure that it was."
Harry greeted this outburst with a sceptical shake of his head.
"Ginny, is that really…"
"Look," she interrupted, "after Voldermort died, it was like I had suddenly woken up from a dream. I knew where I was and what had just happened, but everything else seemed hazy and unreal. People were talking around me and hugging or commiserating with each other. Everyone was filled with really intense emotions; elation, sympathy, grief; all mingling together. But, I just felt numb and detached. Then over the next few days, things started to come back to me and I remembered all the terrible things that I had done and how badly I had behaved. I realised that my character seemed to have changed. I had become overbearing and bossy; to mother, to Hermione, to all of those people that I hit with a bat bogey hex. Where did the bat bogey hex even come from? It's a horrible curse to use. I was never like that before." She paused. "But worst of all, I remembered about Elfreida."
"Ginny, Voldermort had nothing to do with it. You were always a bit rebellious and a talented witch, with a bit of a warped sense of humour," Harry responded, his disbelief clearly evident. "Surprisingly, that was one of the things that I liked about you."
"No! No, I wasn't, not until after my first year at Hogwarts. That's all you remember, but I know I wasn't like that before. A bit headstrong perhaps and ready to stick up for myself, but not like that."
Ginny hesitated.
"I've thought about this a lot during the last few days and it's the only thing that makes sense. Tom Riddle had almost drained all of the life from me in the Chamber of Secrets. When you killed him, it all flooded back, but I think that a bit of him must have come with it."
Harry still looked unconvinced.
"Look, I don't know much about horcruxes," Ginny continued, "but they all come from the same soul, right, and they must therefore all be connected in some way. Tom Riddle possessed me; we were like one person. It stands to reason that a part of him could remain in me, influenced by Voldermort as he grew stronger. It must have stayed there until Voldermort and all of the other horcruxes had been destroyed and there was no link any more. Voldermort only really started to get strong during your fifth year at Hogwarts and you told me that he tried to possess you that night in the Ministry of Magic. When he failed, I think that he started looking for other ways to get at you and he must have become aware of his connection with me for the first time. I suppose that he thought that he could use it against you in some way."
Ginny realised that Harry was still frowning and hurried on with her explanation.
"Hermione always tried to stop you letting Voldermort in to your thoughts and Draco Malfoy knew how clever she was and how much you depended on her. He must have reported all of that back to his father and Lucius was bound to pass the information onto his master. Perhaps, Voldermort reckoned that he could drive Hermione away from you, if you fell in love with me. He was probably persuaded that, without Hermione's influence, you might act more rashly and, let's face it, that wasn't too far from the truth, was it? Anyway, he must have started to develop his plan over the summer. That day in Fred and George's shop, when we had gone to Diagon Alley to buy our stuff for school, I just knew that I had to have Elfreida. Then, later that week, I suddenly realised what she could do and how I could use her to finally get you. The knowledge just came to me. I didn't have to look it up or anything. It was just in my mind one day and I didn't see anything wrong with it. I just reasoned to myself that I was simply giving things a kick start. Do you remember when I took that cheek swab from you? I told you that I needed it for some potions homework, didn't I? Well, I did need it for a potion, but it was one that I gave to Elfreida."
"Look Harry, if this isn't true, how on earth do you think that I knew what to do?" Ginny added desperately. "Do you think that it's the sort of thing that I could have found out in Hogwarts library?"
Harry was silent, staring hard at Ginny, trying to identify any signs of deception, but he could detect nothing. He found that he desperately wanted to believe her, since his affection for the whole Weasley family made it hard to accept that Ginny could be so calculating and wicked without some form of coercion.
"If this is true," he began eventually, "and I only say "if", then why didn't you tell me before this. It means that you've known all along that our relationship - our love - was false and yet you let everything carry on. You let us marry, have children, everything…"
Ginny started to sob, tears now streaming from her eyes.
"But it wasn't false for me. I did love you and…I suppose…I wanted to believe that you loved me. Anyway, it all seemed so ridiculous and unreal. By the time that Voldermort died it was almost two years since I got Elfreida. It was such a long time ago…and what could I have said? "I'm sorry Harry but I think that I might have used a love potion on you. I'm not sure and I don't know how to reverse the effects anyway." You'd just have laughed at me and what could we have done about it?"
"Well, there must have been something that you could do," Harry said fiercely. "If you really loved me, you would have trusted me. You couldn't have kept up the pretence."
Ginny, who was now regaining her self control, pulled a crumpled paper tissue from her coat pocket and dabbed at her cheeks with it.
"There wasn't any pretence on my part. I didn't even think about Voldermort and so I didn't really believe that this seemingly silly, childish piece of magic could have had any effect. I just tried to put it all to the back of my mind. I suppose that I just couldn't deal with the implications and I tried to convince myself that nothing was wrong. I couldn't be sure you see, not until Elfreida died, that is. I felt the change straight away after that and I could tell that you sensed it too. That's when I first thought about Tom Riddle and I began to piece together an explanation for everything. But, I still didn't know how I could explain it to you. Then you suddenly left without speaking to me about where you were going. That wasn't like you and so I suspected that you had somehow realised the truth as well."
Ginny gave a final sniff and pushed her tissue back into her coat pocket.
"How did you find out, anyway?" she asked.
"Someone at the Ministry," Harry replied distractedly. "It doesn't matter anyway."
"So, what do we do now?" Ginny asked miserably.
Harry closed his eyes, trying to concentrate; his thoughts racing. He knew that he believed Ginny and the anger that had been sustaining him was slowly ebbing away, replaced by a feeling of utter despair. He shook his head wearily.
"I don't know Gin. I just don't know," was all that he could find to say.