Chapter 2: Separate Paths

Another Time, Another Place, Another Life

Chapter 2: Separate Paths

August 1998

Neville slipped silently into the darkened room. It was long after visiting hours, and this particular patient's visitors were restricted to family only. The young woman lay perfectly still; her deathly pale face was framed by her long red hair, and her body was shrouded in white sheets. She had not opened her eyes since she'd been found, naked and bleeding, in the depths of Malfoy Manor. Harry had emerged from the dungeons victorious, but he had not remained to bask in his glory. While Neville, Ron, Hermione and the Order of the Phoenix battled the remaining Death Eaters, Harry had fled into the night never to be heard from again. A short while later, Professor Snape had appeared in the hall, carrying the limp form of Ginny Weasley wrapped in his great cloak.

For the first month, members of the Weasley family had kept a constant vigil by her side. As the weeks wore on, and as Ginny showed no outward improvement, their visits had thinned out a bit. Mrs. Weasley still sat with her daughter every morning, and her father and brothers took turns in the afternoon, but the nights now belonged to Neville. He'd always admired Ginny and now, as she lay unconscious, he felt drawn to her. He could almost feel the pain and anguish which seemed to emanate from her, and though there was much he didn't understand about her condition, he felt like his nightly vigils were necessary for her recovery. As an apprentice Healer, he was able to enter her ward without raising suspicion, and from there he'd been able to sneak into her room undetected. He would spend hours speaking to her softly while holding her hand and stroking her forehead as he had often seen his grandmother do for his parents when she thought no one was looking. Perhaps he imagined it, but she seemed comforted by his presence.

Neville crept to the foot of her bed and lifted the tablet that contained the Healer's notes on her condition. He'd passed his first round of examinations that morning and had been given his first degree Healer's Amulet. When he'd received his O.W.L.s after fifth year, he'd had a tough choice to make. His O.W.L in Potions had been surprisingly high enough for him to continue on to the N.E.W.T level. He'd decided then to continue on with Potions so that he could become a Healer. When he'd passed this first round of examinations with flying colours, he'd felt a huge sense of pride over what he'd accomplished despite the difficulties he'd faced in his earlier schooling. He reached into the neck of his robes and pulled out the smooth moonstone which hung on a silver chain. He passed the amulet over the tablet and waited with anticipation as red letters appeared. "Restricted. Level 5 Password Required." Two weeks prior to this, Neville had been hiding behind the dressing curtain, lest he be discovered by Healer Palfreyman, and he'd overheard the password. He uttered it in a low voice and watched in amazement as the writing turned green.

Patient Name: Ginevra Weasley

Sex: Female

Age: 17

Diagnosis: Severe mental trauma caused by possession and physical, mental, and sexual assault.

Neville felt horror and sheer disbelief creep through him, and his hands shook. No. Not that. Anything but that. Though it explained why she hadn't bounced back from her ordeal, Neville still found it incomprehensible that she had been raped. Harry had fled that night; what had he seen? What had the Death Eaters done to her? Though certain that he shouldn't, he glanced back at the tablet and continued to read.

Treatment: Rest, Cheering Charms and Restorative Potions

Healer's Notes: Ginny made a complete physical recovery within hours of being treated for her injuries. Her family has been told that the cause of her current catatonic state is a result of mental trauma which stemmed from the battle she witnessed between one Harry Potter and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Due to her fragile mental status and issues of privacy, the nature of the attack on her person is being kept confidential.

Her family didn't know... Neville pondered that for a moment and wondered if they should have been told, or if it was best that Ginny come to grips with it first and then explain when she was ready. Did anyone besides Ginny and Harry know exactly what had happened? Was Voldemort really gone?

An anti-conception potion was administered upon her arrival; her status is: not pregnant. It is likely that she has not suffered any lasting physical damage and will not have any trouble conceiving at a later date. Her current mental state has been deemed temporary. While she does not respond to family members, she appears to be completely aware of her surroundings. It is the opinion of this Healer that she is consciously maintaining her silence as a method of dealing with emotional trauma she has suffered...

Footsteps in the hall caused Neville to pause his reading of the chart. He was barely able to clear the tablet and scurry behind the curtain before the door creaked open.

"Ron!" Neville heard Hermione's voice in a stage whisper. "You know what Palfreyman said. It's best to let her sleep in peace at night."

"Bugger Palfreyman, those bloody Healers don't know anything. She's my sister, sod it, and I haven't been able to see her all week!"

"Look, I know you've been busy with your first week of training but you have Sunday afternoon free. We could come back then."

"No, Hermione," said Ron, solemnly. "I don't think we'll have time to stop by here on Sunday." Neville heard the rustling of paper.

"What is this?" asked Hermione, her voice laden with trepidation.

"You're a clever witch, read it." Neville's eyebrows rose up in shock at the sarcastic reply.

"Why, Ron?" she asked softly.

"I think you know the answer to that," he said, just as softly.

"How did you find out?"

There was long moment before Ron answered her. "I found that Muggle contraption you bought. You didn't exactly go to any great pains to hide it, and it didn't take much to figure out what it was used for. I can read too, you know."

Neville didn't know what had transpired but Ron sounded so angry and cold; it was frightening.

"You can read? Really?" came Hermione's retort, dripping with sarcasm. "And here I thought I was the one who did all your reading for you..."

"Look, Hermione," said Ron, still distant, though not quite so cold. "It's not that I don't want to marry you and have kids, I just don't want to do it right now." Was she pregnant? How could Ron be so callous?

"We're too young! I've got three years of Auror training, and you still haven't figure out what you're going to do with your gazillion N.E.W.T.s yet... We're just kids, Hermione, how are we supposed to raise one?"

"Then why the Binding Parchment? Why get married?" she asked angrily. "Why not just tell me to get rid of it and be done with the whole thing?"

"Hermione!" gasped Ron. "Look, the baby didn't ask to be made at the wrong time, and I don't think we should punish him for it."

"Him?" she asked waspishly. "So you propose that we solve this by getting married on Sunday? What makes you think I would marry you?"

"I-I got you, you know–" he stuttered. "It's the right thing to do."

"No," she ground out. "I will not subject my child to a father who doesn't love her!" Neville heard the clicking of her shoes against the tiles as she strode towards the door, and then they paused.

"Let go of me," she snapped.

"Shhh, Hermione, you'll disturb Ginny," whispered Ron frantically.

"Well, you should have thought of that before dragging me in here tonight," she huffed. "Why are we even discussing this here of all places? Now. Let. Me. Go!"

"No." Ron's voice was soft and firm. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't know what all the right words are or what the right feelings are." He paused as though searching for those elusive words. "I know that you're going to have a baby, and I know that marrying you is the right thing to do... Even though this really isn't how I imagined my life turning out, I also can't imagine letting you go off and have that baby by yourself; or worse, with someone else.... Hermione?" he added when she didn't respond right away.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she whispered. "I can't either."

Neville heard the slight shuffle of their feet as they made their way back over to Ginny's side and spent the rest of their visit in silence. He did his best to keep his breathing shallow and quiet so as not to be discovered. When the couple finally left, he gasped loudly for air. Drawing in deep breaths, Neville fell from behind the screen and found himself face to face with Ginny. She was sitting up in bed and staring at him with a look of amusement.

"I thought they'd never leave," she said, her voice gritty from months of disuse. "Still, I'd hate to be in their shoes. Mum's going to go ballistic when she finds out Ron got Hermione pregnant!"

"Ginny?" Neville stared at her in amazement. How long had she been awake? Why hadn't she spoken to her brother? She motioned for him to sit on the bed next to her. He eyed Ginny cautiously before sitting down and was very careful not to touch her. He wasn't sure of how to approach a woman who'd been... who'd gone through what she had. He sat very stiffly and kept his distance, waiting for her to make a move.

"I'm okay, Neville. I really am," she assured him.

"Yeah?" asked Neville doubtfully. "Do you remember anything?"

"I remember..." she started, then swallowed hard. "Everything, Neville, I remember everything."

Neville took a deep breath and contemplated his next question carefully. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Nooo, I don't want to tell anyone," she whispered, then took several shaky breaths and lowered her head into her hands. "I don't want to make it real," she mumbled.

"Ahh, Gin," murmured Neville. He laid a tentative hand on her knee. She jerked slightly but didn't move his hand away.

"It is real," he began gently. "Not talking about it isn't going to make it any less real. I'm willing to listen, if you're ready to talk."

"Does everyone know what– what happened to me?" she stuttered.

Neville shook his head and reached for the tablet. After making the words appear, he handed it to her and let her read it for herself. She handed it back to him without a word and sat silently for several long minutes.

Her expression was stony and her voice flat when she spoke again. "You shouldn't have read that."

"No," affirmed Neville feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm glad you did."

Neville gave her a quizzical look. She was glad he knew what had been done to her? She looked at him with wide eyes that were begging for understanding. He closed his eyes and dipped his head; he wasn't sure how to proceed with her. How did one talk to a woman who'd been raped? He couldn't possibly understand her, but he could try...

"I think you need to explain that, Ginny. Why me? Why not someone else?" He returned his hand to its neutral resting place on her knee and waited for her to sort out her thoughts.

"Everyone else talks to me," she said finally. "They all sit there and talk and plead with me to open my eyes and talk back. They ask questions, but they don't know how horrible the answers are. They make me feel so guilty, they're so worried and I just sit there and don't even open my eyes for them."

She took a deep steadying breath before continuing, "You never talked, you just sat there. It's like they were here for their own comfort, and you were here for mine. Why, Neville? Why would you sit with me?"

Neville heard the uncertainty in her voice. She didn't know how incredible she was. He struggled for a moment to find the words. She needed to know; he needed to tell her.

"You're beautiful, Ginny," he began softly. He wrenched his gaze from his lap and forced himself to meet her eye. "You are beautiful. Inside and out. You are brave, loving and loyal. I think I have always admired you. I remember when I asked you to go to the Yule Ball with me and you said yes. I'd asked Hermione first because I was afraid you'd turn me down." He chuckled softly. "Seems I would have been better off if I'd just gone ahead with my first choice, huh? Anyway, I thought Harry would have asked you, I thought you'd go with him, but you didn't; you went with me."

Ginny looked at a spot on the wall over his shoulder with tears welling in her eyes. It was obvious she wanted to believe him, but she didn't; not yet. She brought her knees up to her chest, and Neville's hand slid passively to her foot. She folded her arms and buried her face. "He isn't coming back, is he?" she whispered.

"Voldemort?" asked Neville, bravely.

Ginny lifted her head and gave him a look of disgust. "Voldemort is dead, Neville," she said in a clear voice. "Harry used me to kill him."

~ : ~ : ~

The Next Afternoon

Molly sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea that was rapidly losing its warmth as it lay forgotten beside her. Ginny was awake; finally. She wouldn't speak of the battle between Voldemort and Harry or what had been done to her, she merely confirmed what they already knew: Voldemort was really gone. Molly had struggled not to press her daughter for more than she was willing to give. Ginny's grasp on her sanity seemed tenuous, and it tore at the very heart of Molly's soul to see her baby girl in so much pain. Neville Longbottom had shown up around lunchtime, and Ginny had asked to be alone with him. Despite the shock and hurt that churned within her, Molly had managed to speak kindly to the boy and leave them in peace. She had known that the Longbottom boy was a friend of Ron's, but she hadn't realised that he and Ginny knew each other well enough to visit like that.

She let out a tearful sigh; there was a lot that she, as a mother, should know but didn't. On her way to the bathroom early that morning, she'd heard Hermione's voice speaking in Ron's room. Had she spent the night? With Ron? Unable to help herself, Molly had quietly tapped the door with her wand and listened in on the rest of the conversation. She'd gasped when she finally comprehended what they were discussing. Ron had been planning an elopement, and Hermione was informing him that it wasn't necessary because she wasn't pregnant. Suddenly, Hermione having spent the night in Ron's room became inconsequential. Obviously the two of them had crossed that line a long time ago and were on to bigger sins. Too appalled to interfere, she'd stumbled blindly the rest of the way to the bathroom for her morning ablutions.

She'd been finishing up her breakfast, studiously avoiding looking at Ron who'd come down a bit late, when Arthur had Apparated into the kitchen. He'd had an early morning meeting with Albus Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic at the Ministry. She'd kept his breakfast warm and set it on the table as he'd sat down. She'd waited for him to tell her what he'd found out, but he just shook his head and said they'd still had no word. No one knew exactly what had transpired at Malfoy Manor, and no one knew where Harry was. Furthermore, Albus and the Minister both remained firm that Harry was not to be searched out. He'd Apparated straight to Amelia Bones' house that night and had demanded that he be allowed to leave the wizarding world. The Minister had helped him acquire Muggle credentials and Muggle money and had helped him leave the country, and that was all she would tell them. Molly hoped and prayed for an owl from him, but Harry, like the rest of her children, was destined to leave her in the dark.

~ : ~ : ~

January 1999

"Are you sure?"

"I should be asking you that question. I'm not the girl you admired in school. I couldn't even finish school, and I'm not a girl... not anymore. Are you sure you want me? I've lost everything I had that was worth giving."

Ginny felt Neville's hands clasp her jaw and tilt her face up to his, forcing her to look him in the eye. "You. Are. Everything," he rumbled fiercely. "All I want is you, and I'm willing to wait."

Ginny blinked, trying to hold back the tears that prickled at the corners of her eyes. "I want this. I want you."

Neville leaned in until his forehead was touching hers and there was no place for her to look but in his eyes. "Then tonight we both get to make love for the first time."

The ceremony was simple as they forged their union over the anvil in Gretna Green. The bands glowed brightly as the priest blessed them, and Ginny felt the magic binding her to Neville as he slipped the ring on her finger. His eyes darkened with what she hoped was desire as she slipped the other band onto his hand. When he leaned in to kiss her, he paused and waited for her permission. When she murmured "Yes", he leaned in and gently touched his lips to hers. The chaste kiss burned through her, and she felt the tingling upon her lips long after he had lifted his head.

He whisked her off to a little cottage he'd rented in rural Dumfriesshire for their wedding night. This night was about them and their future together. Tomorrow would be soon enough for her to handle her family. Mum would be hurt, her father would be furious and she didn't even want to contemplate her brothers' reactions. She still hadn't spoken of the night Harry had fought Voldemort with any of them. She'd been released from the hospital a week after that night she'd spoken with Neville. She told him everything and he hadn't said anything. He'd held her when she'd finally cried, but hadn't wiped her tears or tried to shush her. He'd just let her be. The next morning, her mother had arrived to find her bathed and dressed and sitting up in bed eating breakfast. Her mother had surprised her by not asking any questions. She'd just hugged Ginny and cried a little as she told her how much she'd loved and missed her. Ginny felt the bitter weight of guilt settle in her stomach as she sat on the bed and watched Neville sort out their meagre luggage before summoning dinner. Her family deserved better than this, but she just couldn't find the strength or the words to explain to them that she'd changed. She wasn't the same person they'd raised and loved.

Neville sat beside her, but didn't touch her. "Gran's going to have my head, you know. I don't think I'll ever be able to make her see that this was the right thing to do. She'll feel cheated because she'll have wanted to be a part of my wedding. She did a wonderful job bringing me up; she deserves more respect than this. I love her, and I hate hurting her like this, but this is about us, Ginny. About what's right for us... and what's right for you."

She turned to look at him, and her breath caught at the look in his eyes. She had never seen him so determined. "A lot happened that night, Gin; it's going to take more than just a couple months for you to deal with it. Your family will be hurt because they love you. They may never understand, but they will forgive you because they love you."

Ginny sniffled embarrassingly but as she felt his arm slide around her shoulders, she leaned against him. He stroked her arm and nestled his head against hers. "Let them go for right now," he whispered into her hair. "Let them go, they'll still be there tomorrow." She turned her head slightly and accepted his kiss. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her waist. She found her back was bent at an odd angle and she didn't care. What he lacked in dexterity, he made up for with urgent desire. She felt her head swim, and she raised her hands up to his shoulders.

"Ginny! I'm sorry!" he gasped breaking away.

"What?" she mumbled, confused.

"I- I didn't mean to be so rough. I want to touch you so badly, but I can wait, Ginny; I can wait."

Ginny took in Neville's worried expression and sighed deeply. For one brief moment she'd forgotten about everything except his kiss. She wanted desperately to get back to the business of forgetting, but Neville's concern had to be dealt with. She pushed herself up from the bed and stood in front of him. Button by button she undid the front of her robes and let them fall open. She revelled in his heated gaze while the robes slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor. She stepped up to the bed, stood between his legs and reached for his hands. She placed his hands on her hips and felt the warmth of his touch through the silky slip of an undergarment that she still wore. She heard him groan softly as he pulled her down on top of him and rolled her over to the middle of the bed.

The lengths of their bodies were pressed tightly together as his hands wandered to the edge of her slip. He took a fistful of material in each hand and drew the garment up over her body. His greedy fingers slipped inexpertly over her body, eliciting gasps of pleasure from her and moans of appreciation from him. He leaned back to look at her, and Ginny felt the flush of embarrassment creeping across her skin. He rolled off the bed and stripped the clothes quickly from his body, momentarily entangling his feet. When he righted himself, he reached over to the bedside table and turned back to her with a vial in his hand. His ears turned crimson as she drank in the sight of his nude body but he did not stop moving until he was kneeling on the bed beside her.

"You can stop me at any time."

"I know."

Neville nodded and handed her the vial. "I would love nothing more than to see you pregnant with my baby, but not right now."

Ginny gave him a tremulous smile as she drank the bitter liquid and tossed the vial aside. He made no further move towards her so she reached out for his arm and pulled him down into the cradle of her body. She would spend the rest of her life loving him for the gentleness he showed her that night as he moved ever so slowly against her. As she felt the ecstasy build within her, she urged him on faster. Moments later they lay in a tangle of limbs, both trying desperately to catch their breath.

Ginny felt her heart skip a beat as she realised the beauty of what she'd just shared with her husband. Neville was her husband and he had just finished showing her how precious she was to him... The tears began to flow freely from her eyes, and she felt Neville pull her back in close and he held her tightly. He didn't ask her silly questions. He knew she had accepted him willingly and lovingly, and he knew that the tears had stemmed not from pain, but the release from pain. So he waited until her sobbing ceased and dried her eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

"You may not be ready to believe this," he whispered in a rough voice, "but I'll just keep telling you until you do. I love you."

Ginny burrowed her face against his chest and let him soothe her to sleep. She wasn't sure what she believed anymore. Perhaps he really could love her; maybe she even loved him back. The morning sun came too early, and with it came a loud knock on the door. Her brief respite from the real world had ended; it was time to start talking.

~ : ~ : ~

June 2013

Harry stared in disbelief at the owl perched on the railing of his porch. He'd walked away from the wizarding world with naught but his wand fifteen years prior. It had been years since he'd even thought about magic, yet there was Hedwig, perched on the fence staring at him. Every memory, every feeling, all of who he was and who he had been, flooded his consciousness. He looked from Hedwig to his eleven-year-old daughter. Rhea was magical? How could he not have seen that? How could he have ever believed she wouldn't be? Harry fell back and propped himself against the house for support. His wife was not going to take this well.

Rhea held out the letters, a look of worry on her young face. He could take them from her; never share their contents with her. She need never know what she was; what he was. Harry bit back the awful urge to do just that. He couldn't do to his daughter what the Dursleys had tried to do to him so long ago. "They're addressed to you, aren't they?" he whispered. At her nod, he continued, "Then you'd better open them and take a look."

He waited for an interminable moment while she lifted the wax seal off the first letter and read through it carefully. As she set the first aside and began to read the second, Harry ground his teeth in frustration. He would have loved to snatch the letters from her and read them himself but he managed to contain his impatience. Rhea was one to consider things carefully. She would look up and tell him what the letters said when she was ready... and not a moment before.

"Daddy?" she asked, finally tilting her eyes up to meet his.

"Yes, Rhea?" he replied gently.

"Am I a witch?"

"Yes, you are."

"Are you a wizard?"

"Yes, I am."

She considered this a moment before saying wisely, "Mom doesn't know about this, does she?"

"No, Rhea, she doesn't."