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Ch. 5- Blessed Panic

“Ginny! GINNY!” Harry yelled in a panic, fear rising up in his chest and sweat dripping down his forehead as he ran through the completely empty corridors of Hogwarts. His eyes flicked past the open door of a classroom that was eerily empty, void of the usual chatting students and explosions of spells gone wrong. He had a bad feeling that something was very, very, wrong…

He was suddenly standing on a dank, stone floor and when he looked up, his stomach twisted in knots. What he saw were hundreds of serpentine columns flanking either side of a long, stone walkway, ending in the large stone face of Salazar Slytherin, which he hadn’t seen since his second year. His eyes fell to the form lying at the end of the walkway and he spotted a glimpse of red hair. “No…” he whispered, as he began running towards Ginny’s limp form…

Shrieks filled the air. He was now standing in front of Ginny’s twitching and convulsing form. His arm was held out in front of him, but it couldn’t be his arm, and the wand, it wasn’t his, but he recognized it…Cold, cruel, high-pitched laughter filled the cavernous space, and Harry realized whose laughter it was and with a sickening feeling, realized it was coming out of his mouth. Voldemort’s laughter…

He was now standing a couple yards away from Ginny, and Voldemort was standing right in front of her, his bone white wand pointed directly at her heart. “Crucio!” New shrieks filled the air with every twitch and jerk of her body, and Harry found that he couldn’t move an inch when he tried to run to her. “How does it feel, Potter? Knowing you can’t do anything to help? Not being able to do anything to be the noble hero,” Voldemort asked him with a sneer, “Knowing that at any point, I could just kill the ones you love most?” He just struggled harder against whatever magic was binding him, desperate to get to Ginny. But Voldemort was quicker. He pointed his wand back at Ginny’s heart, from whom he had already lifted the Cruciatus Curse, and said, “Avada Kedavra!”

“NO!” Harry screamed as he watched the green jet of light hit the only one he had ever truly loved.

Harry sat bolt upright. He was sweating all over, his scar was searing, and his heart was broken in two. “It had to be a dream. It just had to be. Voldemort has no means of getting in here, right?” he thought, panic flooding over him. His hand searched the side table frantically for his glasses, sending a water glass crashing to the floor in the process. When he finally found them, he put them on and leapt out of bed. He was seconds from reaching the door so he could leave for Gryffindor Tower when Madam Pomfrey came out of her office to see what all the noise was about.

“Mr. Potter!” she said sternly. “Where do you think you are going?” Harry didn’t even hesitate before answering.

“To find my girlfriend!” He knew that what he had seen had to have been planted in his mind by Voldemort, but seeing her being tortured and then killed nearly killed him. Right now he just needed to hold her and make sure she was safe.

“Oh, no you don’t. You only came out of a curse-induced coma a week ago, Mr. Potter. You’re not going anywhere,” she replied, walking over to him. She, of course, knew that Ginny was pregnant, because she was acting as her midwife. She also knew of her wishes to keep the pregnancy a secret from Harry until it was a better time for him to know, and was determined to uphold those wishes.

“You don’t understand!” he exclaimed in frustration. “If you won’t let me out of here, at least let me talk to Professor McGonagall,”

“Fine, but once I get her in here you only have five minutes, then it’s back to bed,” she replied in her usual stern tone, and then left the infirmary in search of McGonagall. But Harry had no intention of sitting here and waiting for McGonagall. Once he was sure Madam Pomfrey was gone long enough where she wouldn’t end up meeting him in the corridors, he got out of his bed, crept out of the doors and down the corridor, then, making sure there was no one coming, broke into a run towards Gryffindor Tower. Once he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, though, he realized that he didn’t know the password and had no means of getting it. He sank down onto the floor, leaning against a piece of wall next to the Fat Lady. He put his head into his hands, thinking hard.

“How could I have let Voldemort find out about Ginny? Could he have been accessing my mind when I didn’t know it?” He hoped with all his heart that Ginny wasn’t lying dead in the Chamber of Secrets at that moment. At this thought, tears trickled out of his eyes, which he didn’t even bother to wipe away. He was just too worn and tired to even care.

“Harry! What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be in the infirmary,” Hermione exclaimed, climbing out of the portrait hole.

“Hermione! Is Ginny in there?” Harry asked her, ignoring her question and getting up.

“Uh…Harry, why do you ask?” she replied, as if treading around something she desperately didn’t want to tell him.

“I just had a vision of her being tortured and killed by Voldemort, Hermione. Is she in there?” he declared, sounding scared and impatient all at the same time. Hermione’s eyes had gone wide at this declaration.

“Oh, Harry. Oh, dear. She’s not in there. She’s not here at all,” she replied, her voice timid. “I suppose I can tell you, considering, that she’s at the Burrow. But I can’t tell you anything else. I’m not the right person to do so.” Harry’s mind was spinning with this new information.

“What do you mean, she’s not here? Why can’t you tell me anything else?” he asked, extremely confused and suspicious.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I can’t tell you anything more,” she told him, looking sincerely torn. At this, Harry took off towards the opposite end of the corridor, so he could get outside of Hogwarts and apparate to the Burrow. Hermione didn’t even call after him. She had known him too long to not know where he was going. He was going to find the truth, albeit complicated. She knew she couldn’t stop him, and this one time, she wasn’t going to try. Ginny was in for the shock of her life.

No one really paid him much attention as he passed the Great Hall, where the majority of the students were still eating dinner, mostly because he wasn’t a student here anymore. No one actually had any power over him here; no one could put him in detention for anything. It was a wonderfully free kind of feeling. But he had much bigger things to think about. As he ran out of the main doors to Hogwarts and out into the cool breeze, he wondered if Ginny had been keeping a secret from him. “No,” he thought, “She wouldn’t do that, what reason would she have for doing that?” Once outside of the gates, he thought of the Burrow, and Ginny’s gorgeous face, and disapparated.


“Mum, where’s the tea? It’s not in the usual spot,” Ginny yelled upstairs, where Molly was cleaning out Fred and George’s old room for the new addition.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, get your bum on the sofa and rest! You do not need to be searching for tea at almost nine months pregnant!” Molly told her sternly, coming down the stairs. “I will make you tea if you want it so badly.”

“Thanks Mum,” she replied with a smile, going into the sitting room and taking a seat on the sofa. Glancing out the window, she saw that a wall of thunder clouds had appeared over the otherwise blue sky, and noted that it was probably going to rain later. With a sigh, she subconsciously placed her hands on her stomach. She really wished her pregnancy would move along a little quicker; she was only about a week and a half away from her due date and she was sick of feeling like a whale. A large part of her didn’t want Harry to miss the birth, though. A few minutes passed, and then Ginny was startled by a CRACK! and the tinkling of breaking china. Curious, she slowly got up and headed towards the kitchen. “Mum, what’s the mat-” she started upon arriving in the kitchen, before noticing the identity of the other person in the room, and for once in a very long while, she was speechless.

Harry’s eyes traveled from her shocked face down to her swollen stomach. He was in shock. Here was his girlfriend, who he hadn’t seen in almost eight months, standing right in front of him, heavily pregnant. He didn’t know what to do. Yell, get angry? No, he couldn’t. Not at Ginny, never at Ginny. Was this what Hermione couldn’t tell him? His head was spinning, he needed answers. “Ginny, can I talk to you, in private?” he asked, trying to remain calm. Ginny just looked at her mum, who scurried out of the kitchen and upstairs. “When did this happen?” he let out in a slightly exhausted tone, taking a seat at the table.

“Harry, I think you know when it happened,” she replied with a serious look on her face as she took a seat as well. “It’s not like you weren’t there.”

“Ginny…you know what I mean. Why didn’t you tell me? Were you ever planning on telling me?” he declared, looking desperate and slightly confused.

“Of course, Harry!”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I was scared! Scared of the future, scared of your reaction! You were just about to leave for Merlin knows where to hunt Horcruxes when I found out, and you were worrying about the fact that Ron and Hermione could die at any moment, and I didn’t think that you needed to worry about the health and well being of children, too,” she confessed in a rush, and even though she wasn’t facing him, he could see the tears falling down her face. It tore him apart to see her in so much pain over something they should be dealing with together. Then he realized something.

“Ginny, did you say ‘children’?” he asked her, a wary look on his face.

“What?” she responded, sounding slightly guilty. She still didn’t look at him, but absentmindedly wiped away her tears.

“Gin, you said ‘children’. Why would you say that?” he asked, his voice wavering a bit, nervous for her response.

“Uh…well…Harry, you know this kind of thing runs in my family…but it’s not like I’m saying its hereditary, or anything,” she rambled on nervously, not meeting his eyes. But Harry thought he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about, and it scared him to death.

“Are you pregnant with twins, Ginny?” he declared, trying to keep his voice steady. He didn’t even think he was ready for one baby, but two? And there was still Voldemort to think about…

“Yes, Harry,” she told him, raising her head about an inch to look him directly in the eyes. She looked a little shaky and nervous, which worried him. This heightened amount of stress probably wasn’t good for her.

“When are you due?”

“A week and a half.”

All of a sudden, a massive bolt of lightening struck through the sky, flashing an intense light in through the windows. At that moment, a horrible image crossed Harry’s mind once again; the image of Ginny being tortured and killed by Voldemort with a single green jet of light, something he couldn’t get out of his head easily. It was as if it would be burned into a piece of his memory forever. Thinking about this, he knew he couldn’t let it happen, he couldn’t let Voldemort win another battle in this immense war. He also couldn’t let him take away the rest of the people he loved. Ginny was his family; she was his reason for breathing. But if Voldemort killed their children, too…

“Ginny, I have to go do something important,” he suddenly told her, taking her hands in his. “Just know that I love you, no matter what. And I hope I can be there for you in the future. That includes the twins,” he leaned over and kissed her, then bent down and kissed her stomach twice, once for each child. Then he stood up and disapparated out of the Burrow. But it was one moment too soon.

“Oh!” Ginny gasped, clutching her stomach. When it happened the second time, about four and a half minutes later, her heart sank. “No, not now,” she whispered. “Not without Harry.”

“Has it been done?” Voldemort asked of the person who had just walked into the rundown, three-room shack. Without looking, he already knew who it was. “Has the switch been made?”

“Y-yes, my lord. B-but are you sure it is wise? Can’t the Ministry track these kinds of things?” Wormtail asked timidly, coming into the light of the fireplace, his silver hand glinting.

“The Ministry? Ha! What can the Ministry do to me? No…this has been in planning for too long, nothing can or will stop me now.”

“My lord,” came a new voice, its owner emerging from one of the two doors leading off to other rooms. “If I may interrupt, I have reason to believe that you are not as strong as you think.”

“Ah, Severus,” Voldemort greeted him, his voice a cold whisper, obviously not happy with this new arrival. “What information do you have on this subject?”

“My lord, Potter has already destroyed several Horcruxes, I believe. More than we first thought,” he hesitated a little before going on. “I have information from outside sources that he has destroyed them all.”

“What?!” Voldemort snarled, standing up.

Ginny fought back a scream of pain as another contraction came on. “Mum!” she yelled. Molly came hurrying down the stairs moments later to see her daughter clutching the table.

“Ginny! Oh dear! It’s time!”

She only received a scream of pain in answer. Molly took her daughter’s arm and led her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Halfway up, she asked Ginny a question that had only now occurred to her. “Love, where’s Harry?”

“Oh! Well, mum, we had a little discussion, and I told him we were having twins in a way I rather I wouldn’t have,” she paused as another contraction came on, and at that moment, a roar of thunder erupted through the sky, closely followed by a crash of lightening. “and then told me he had something important to do, kissed me, and disapparated,” she finished as they slowly approached her room. “I think he went after Voldemort.” Once Molly had helped her into her bed, she finally answered Ginny’s declaration, though she was disappointed with the answer she received.

“You mustn’t worry, dear. I’m going to floo Madam Pomfrey, your father, and your brothers. Just stay here and rest.” Ginny nodded solemnly, and then turned her head to look out the window. Rain was lashing at the window, and the sky was filled with huge, rolling, deep purple and gray thunder clouds. It almost made her feel as if Mother Nature was channeling the sorrow that she was too emotionally drained to express right now. But she had more important things to think about, like giving birth to twins. How could she have ever thought that she could’ve done this without Harry? She didn’t know what she would do if she lost him, how she could raise them on her own, explaining how great he was, explaining why Daddy wasn’t there. She would never be able to handle life without him. Her mother walked back into the room then, Madam Pomfrey at her side, who immediately went to Ginny, waving her wand and hooking her up to magical fetal monitors. “I’ve flooed your father, and he says he’ll be along as soon as he can. Charlie’s downstairs, waiting for Bill and Fleur. They’re going to take a little longer, since her midwife isn’t letting her Floo or Apparate this late in her pregnancy, so they have to get a special portkey. You know, the Ministry has to keep track of those, and all. The twins have to wrap things up at the shop, but they’ll be along soon,” Molly told her, trying to distract her from the pain. It worked a little too well.

“What about Ron and Hermione?” she breathed, another contraction just passing over.

“Well…I couldn’t contact them at Hogwarts, so I assume that they’re back wherever they had to go for the Order. I contacted Lupin, he said that they weren’t at Grimmauld Place, and I have no way of contacting them otherwise,” she explained, a bit apprehensive.

“I want Harry,” Ginny whispered, her hands on her stomach. Both women looked at her, their faces full of sadness, though not as much as Ginny’s.

“Time to check you, Miss Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey told her, waving her wand over Ginny’s stomach; glowing green light flowed out of the end of the wand. The light formed gracefully to read: 6 centimeters. “Just four centimeters to go. I would have expected slower progress for a first pregnancy,” she remarked, pocketing her wand, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Women in my family have always had quick labor,” Molly told her while walking over to Ginny and magically siphoning off the sweat from her forehead.

“Mum, what did you really think when I told you I was pregnant, and that it was Harry’s?” she asked a few minutes later, looking up at her mother. She had told her parents that she was pregnant about a week after Harry had left with Ron and Hermione. At first, her mother didn’t say anything, and her father just looked at the table, clearly disappointed. But when she mentioned her decision about not telling Harry, her mother had looked up and told her that her father and she would support her decision, and then they both had left.

“I was scared for you. I had been barely out of Hogwarts when we had Bill, and it was hard even with the support of your father. Yet here you were, my baby, pregnant with the child of someone who couldn’t be there for you, but you loved him anyway, and I knew he loved you, too. It broke my heart that you couldn’t tell him, because it meant that Voldemort won again,” she told her, a little surprised at the question.

“Mum, what if he doesn’t come…back?” she whispered, hot tears threatening to escape her eyes; she blinked them back.

“Dear, he would never leave you. He wouldn’t let anyone take him away from you now,” she told her, wrapping her arms around her baby girl. They sat there for what seemed like hours, until a particularly painful contraction came, causing Ginny to shriek out in pain. Madam Pomfrey rushed over and waved her wand over her stomach, which then emitted the same glowing green light, which shaped the following: 10 centimeters.

“What?” Ginny said in disbelief, looking at the luminescent green writing hovering above her stomach.

“Yes, it’s quite astonishing how quickly your labor has progressed. I believe you will be ready to push now,” Madam Pomfrey told her.

“Oh my!” Molly remarked, turning towards the open door. “Charlie! It’s time!” Next thing they knew, there was the sound of four people apparating into the room, and hurried, but cautious, footsteps coming up the stairs, “Arthur! Fred, George! When did you get here?”

“Just a few moments ago, mum,” George answered, walking over and giving her a hug, followed by Fred and Charlie. Meanwhile, Ginny was having an angry discussion with Madam Pomfrey, who was trying to get her to push.

“Not without Harry! He can’t miss this, he just can’t,” she told Madam Pomfrey, who was at the end of her bed.

“Dear, if you don’t push now, it could endanger the babies,” she explained in a concerned, but stern voice. Ginny couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and they rushed down from her chocolate brown eyes, curving down her jaw as they slid downward. “Are you ready to push?” she asked again. Ginny nodded in return. Once she started to push, everyone ran to her side except for Fleur, who was sitting in a chair by the door, and Fred, who was talking in hushed tones to Bill on the other end of the room. That is, until Bill raised the volume of the conversation.

“Well, why isn’t he here right now? What could possibly be more important than the birth of his children?” Bill asked Fred loudly, but it was Ginny who answered.

“How about destroying Voldemort, so that his children could… have a better future? He’s risking his life for them… for all of us…and all you can do is stand there and… call him a bad father!” she said as she continued to push, causing astonished looks from all her family, for none of them, save Ron and Hermione, who had yet to arrive, had known that Harry was the Chosen One. They had an idea, though, but to confirm it was another thing entirely.

“Ginny, you have to calm down. Now come on, just one more push, can you do that?” Madam Pomfrey asked gently. Ginny nodded, then tucked her chin to her chest, and with one final push, heard a cry that brought joy to her heart. Then Madam Pomfrey spoke again.

“It’s…” she started, but was drowned out by the baby’s cries.

“… not your decision!” Harry declared from the study at their rented cottage, where he had been rapidly digging through various books ever since he left the Burrow.

“Harry, we won’t let you do this alone!” Hermione told him as she followed him around the study as he searched for books, Ron close behind. When they hadn’t heard anything about Ginny to alert them, and when Harry hadn’t returned to Hogwarts after awhile, they had come here. They weren’t all that surprised to find him here; they had thought that after the baby “talk” with Ginny, he might want to destroy Voldemort. He was never good at just sitting and thinking about something, he always had to take action. But not this time.

“Fine. You won’t let us come with you. But will you at least sit down for two seconds and think about what you’re doing?” Ron countered. Harry would have expected Hermione to say something like this, not Ron. Never Ron. Ron always went along with his ideas; Hermione was the one who usually stopped the two before they did something really stupid. Surprised, he took a seat in the gold, burgundy, and forest green chair, and Ron and Hermione took seats at the mahogany table.

“Do you have a plan?” she asked him.

“Not really a plan. A fairly well thought out idea, though,” he answered, looking at the floor.

“Is it going to work? ‘Cause I would really appreciate it if I didn’t lose my best friend and nieces’ and/ or nephews’ father all in the same day,” Ron remarked, causing Harry to look up at him.

“Ron, don’t. Just don’t. I just found out that I’m going to be the father to twins in a week and a half, and I don’t need you making me feel guilty so that I’ll give you information,” he retaliated, his voice weary. “I just want you two to go to the Burrow and stay with Ginny. If anything happens, get her out of there immediately. I do not want you two coming back here under any circumstances.”

“Be careful,” was all that she told him. Ron gave him a defeated nod, then they both disapparated, leaving Harry to ponder his next move. Could he really have thought that he could have just gone chasing after Voldemort without thinking about?

“I mean, I don’t even know where he is,” he thought, completely frustrated with himself and the situation. He knew the spell he was going to use, though. If it worked, it would be more painful for Voldemort than any Killing Curse. But first, he had to figure out where he was; there were so many possibilities. There were the obvious places, of course, places where he had hidden before; Albania…Riddle Manor…couldn’t be Hogwarts…though that wasn’t so much hiding as acting as a parasite… Riddle Manor made sense, not many people knew he was once called Tom Riddle, making the birthplace of his namesake the perfect place to hide in. But what about that dream? Why would he want to plant a dream luring him to the Chamber of Secrets, if he was in Little Hangleton all along? The dream itself was too easy to see that it was, in fact, just a dream…his thoughts drifted back to what the nightmare Voldemort (was there really any difference?) had said, “…Knowing that at any point, I could just kill the ones you love most?” Harry saw it now. It was so obvious; he wondered why he hadn’t seen it before.

“Motivation,” he whispered. “Voldemort must be really desperate at this point, to want to plant a dream to lure me, to motivate me to want to kill him,” he thought. Probably to speed up the timing of Harry’s death, thinking that he wasn’t going to be prepared. But he was. And for once, he was going to go knowingly into a trap. But he wasn’t going to die. Voldemort was going to be destroyed.


“…a boy!” Madam Pomfrey announced to the room, just as Ron and Hermione were rushing up the staircase, having just apparated into the kitchen and hearing the commotion upstairs.

“Ron, you don’t think-” she started, giving him a wary glance, but he finished for her.

“- she’s in labor? Of course I do. I mean, why not? It’s perfect timing, what with the father off to destroy the most evil wizard ever to live,” he remarked with a sarcastic tone, giving her a weak smile as they walked in through Ginny’s open door. Upon entering, they saw a healthy sized baby, with a tuft of red Weasley hair, wrapped in a conjured blue blanket in Mrs. Weasley’s arms. Mr. Weasley was sitting in a chair next to Ginny’s bed, where she was in labor with the second baby. Fleur was talking in rapid, angry French to Bill, and Fred, George, and Charlie were all looking nervous, standing near their father.

“Ron, Hermione!” Molly whispered excitedly, a wide smile on her face as she hurried over to them with the new baby in her arms.

“So, this is my new nephew, right?” he asked, looking at the baby. “He certainly looks like a Weasley. Freckles and all,” Just then, the baby boy opened his eyes ever so slightly, as to reveal the emerald green sparklers that were reminiscent of his father’s and grandmother’s. “I guess a little of Harry in him, too.”

“Does he have a name yet?” Hermione asked, looking down at him with a soft expression on her face.

“No, Ginny wants to wait until Harry gets back to name them. By the way, where is Harry? He hasn’t really gone after Voldemort, has he?” Molly asked, a nervous look on her face as her eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them.

“Um…well, you see…” Ron started, glancing at Hermione as if pleading for help.

“You know how Harry is…” she said, aware that this would do anything but calm Mrs. Weasley, but what could she say?


Meanwhile, the rain that had been lashing at the windows of many homes and pounding down from thunder clouds in Ottery St. Catchpole had since lightened a bit, but had moved surprisingly fast and it was now raining so hard and rapidly in Little Hangleton, that it was as if the gun metal gray and dusty mauve clouds above had been pouring the rainout of them with several large buckets. Harry hadn’t noticed this rapid change in the weather until he stepped outside of the cottage. He didn’t care, though, a little rain he could deal with. He’d dealt with worse so many times before. As he started walking towards town, rain slipping down his forehead and onto his cheeks, his thoughts turned to, of all things, Ginny. He wondered how she was doing, and wished that he hadn’t had to leave her like he had. What if she went into early labor? “No, she couldn’t go into labor now,” he thought. But aren’t twins supposed to come early? He vaguely remembered a story shared earlier, back in the summer by Mrs. Weasley, about the fact that Fred and George were born two weeks early. She couldn’t be in labor now. What would make him think that? She would go into labor in a week and half, just as planned. But what if there were complications? What if she bled to death? He was going to be a father in a week and a half! The panic he felt now had nothing to do with the fact that he had just reached Riddle Manor. Shocked that he hadn’t really noticed where he was going, but still ended up here, he looked up to see that there weren’t any lights on in any of the windows in his path of vision. Withdrawing his wand from his pocket, he walked slowly towards the door, and once he reached it, whispered “Alohomora”. The doorknob shook a little in the blast from the spell, as if it wasn’t attached firmly to the door, but this was an old house, so Harry dismissed it. As he put his hand towards the doorknob to open it, he was surprised that there hadn’t been any wards on the house. Another reason this was probably a plan to lure him. Once he finally placed his hand on the doorknob, he felt a familiar and nasty tug from somewhere around his navel as the scene in front of him disappeared with a rush and was replaced, as he fell with a thud to the ground, by a vaguely familiar scene he was sure that he hadn’t seen since just after they had left to hunt Horcruxes. He opened his eyes a little wider to see Voldemort standing in front of the ruins of his parents’ house. He was in Godric’s Hollow.

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