Repercussions

Repercussions

Inside the house in Spinner's End, wards in place, Severus Snape immediately snatched the wand out of his wife's hand. "I am not risking anything," he spat and proceeded to his lab without another look at her.

Ginny's mind worked feverishly. Everything had fallen apart, and he blamed her. In fact, everyone blamed her, but she did not care for them. She had to find access to Severus again, but he was hurt, so hurt that he acted irrationally and jumped to conclusions. She could not even blame him. She had had to refuse his kiss, although they had shared kisses...and so much more...before.

For at least an hour, she sat in a silent stupor, alternately brooding and fuming. She listened, but heard no sound from downstairs. Then glass shattered, and at least one cauldron hit the stone floor with a reverberating, tinny bang. A vision of all the caustic, raw or fermented ingredients for potions came to her mind, and Ginny shuddered. If only he wouldn't hurt himself in his furious ramble! He had to calm down on his own, and then, hopefully, he would come up, and she would explain what had happened.

With a sigh, she laid the borrowed dress aside and put on her warm, loose track suit. Freezing from more than the cool room, she added some logs to the fire. This would at least create a comfortable temperature for the discussion that was bound to start frosty.

There were no more noises from downstairs when Ginny sat down with a steaming pot of a bitter, herbal tea composed mostly of calming-down herbs. She listened anxiously, but it took a long time before she heard anything she could identify. Severus ran the water in the stone sink. Was he cleaning up?

Steps could be heard on the stairs, and the door opened. Ginny stood and looked at her husband apprehensively. "I owe you..."

"Nothing. I want nothing at all from you," he interrupted. His face and voice were not revealing any emotions, and his posture indicated aloofness, maybe an attempt at indifference, as he looked over her head. His arms hung stiffly, and he clenched his hands for control as he spoke in an ice-cold tone. "We are to keep up an image towards the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord keeps records on the copulation schedule. Get ready. As my touch suddenly revolts you, I will not put you through the ordeal of foreplay."

Ginny jerked back with every hard consonant in the last sentence. "Severus..."

"You are speaking out of turn. Do not make it a habit. Get ready." With this order he left for the bathroom.

Ginny was frozen to the spot. He couldn't possibly mean it!

He reappeared and saw her rooted on the same place. In the short moment of indecision, Ginny tried to read something in his face and found only disgust. A flick of his wand replaced the sofa with the makeshift bed. Another set of flicks removed Ginny's trousers and knickers. "Is even that too difficult for a pure-blood without a wand?" Ginny blanched.

With rough movements, Severus shoved her along to her first bed in this place. He was done quickly, eyes cold as stone, hardly touching her and not approving any touch from her. He removed himself rapidly and left for the bedroom...his bedroom.

:*:*:*:

For hours, Ginny moved around in her bed, went to the toilet and kitchen in turns or paced the few yards of the sitting room. Sleep would not come. Even crying herself to sleep wasn't an option, for she felt void of tears. He had deliberately hurt her and then left with no word at all. Numb and shocked, she had been lying for a long time before she had carefully moved her legs and finally stood to go to the bathroom. Against her physical pain, she had found the known ointment in the front row of the apothec-cupboard. Within minutes her skin had lost its burns and the raw feeling.

Ginny's mental pain, on the other hand, went deeper and would leave the most ugly scar behind if it wasn't treated.

In her heart, she clung to the warm memories that, knowing the teacher from Hogwarts, struck one as odd: Severus, raising an eyebrow in bemusement over her, as she insisted that preparing food was fun; Severus, sitting at her bed, focusing hard on not jumping while she stroked his arm; Severus, wiping a tear from her cheek, desperately searching for words of consolation; Severus, stumbling over his own words as he handed her the necklace; Severus...

First thing in the morning, she would explain their problem. They would once again peruse books and make plans on how to overcome the obstacle the pink toad had set before them.

What if he refused to listen? Then she'd try again as soon as the situation was less tense. The man wasn't stupid, was he? With a sigh Ginny admitted that he was, however, incredibly stubborn...and deeply hurt. This mix could prove hard to overcome. She would have to show patience.

How many people would have realised what had happened? How had Percy perceived the scene? Had he heard Umbridge's words at all? From the Dark Lord's comment about his role as intermediary, it certainly had appeared to her that he had been sent back alive. Ginny had not followed up exactly who had taken up the task to see to him. Would Percy finally contact the family, now that he had information to share? Would he talk to them in person? Her least sociable brother had been utterly surprised, as if he hadn't even known she had been caught, that she had been missing for three weeks already. The festive atmosphere and her wedding with Severus had, of course, befuddled him. The two men must have spoken with each other before Ginny had arrived, and she could just imagine how Severus had beamed, gloated even... only to be so utterly humiliated later.

Oh, if she got hold of that arrogant Umbridge meddler! Why did she have to tease him; was it some revenge from an encounter at Hogwarts back in Ginny's fourth year? How exactly had Severus handled the situation back then? Yet again, her thoughts had returned to Severus. Always Severus.

Gathering her wits, Ginny decided she'd have to observe Severus most carefully. His face was unreadable for most of the time, but there were tiny indicators that gave away his tension. A twitching finger, for example. He always managed to keep his index and pinkie still, if not relaxed, but the middle finger and the ring finger could give him away. Or a clenched fist, to counteract the twitch, as he had chosen earlier this night. The soft black hair on the back of his hands was another indicator. It lay flat most of the time, but in fear and pain, when he would possibly get goosebumps under his clothes, the hairs on his hand would stand up. His long, slender hands appeared before her inner eye. They were so skilled at handling mortar and pestle, stirring a cauldron and cutting up ingredients evenly, without a single fail in shape or size. These hands could also balance and play with a wand most artfully.

The same hands had learned to play over her, had indeed ensnared her senses...without a potion or a wand.

She sighed. They would not do it again soon. Back she was to her problem! She would observe his every reaction to her actions, to her person, her presence. He was behaving stubbornly, like a child, really. If this continued, he would not want to be given favours, but he would not want to be treated worse than before either, and certainly he would not want to give her recognition for whatever she did.

She wanted to show him what she knew about him. Unfortunately, there were wide fields she did not know anything about. Should she cook his favourites and say so? Should she cook food she knew wasn't on this list and not say anything?

Should she provoke him?

The herbal tea let her finally fall asleep.

:*:*:*:

The sun was up when Ginny awoke from restless slumber. She eyed her dress from the day before as it lay on the armchair, mocking her. Resolutely, she got up, took the everyday clothes into the bathroom and emerged washed and dressed. The room was frighteningly silent, and the table was empty, but she found evidence that Severus had had breakfast in the kitchen. She haphazardly gathered some food for herself on a plate and sat at her usual place. A parchment became visible.

Schedule:

If my duties keep me out of house on the set times, be prepared 25 minutes after I return.

Her food lost its taste, and she disposed of it. He couldn't mean it? This was far worse than she had expected. Surely there must be a way to talk to him?

Ginny Snape faced four hours with nothing to do but to prepare herself for this date of sorts.

With another pot of hot tea that failed to remove the chill in her bones and soul, she listened at the door to the cellar. The sound of the grinding pestle and mortar was forceful, but regular. She rapped lightly. No answer. "Severus, some tea?" The grinding continued unaltered, and she received no reply. A clinking sound indicated that Severus was pouring the powdered substance out of the mortar, then scraping it clean with the pestle. In her mind's eye, she could see his hands at work, but in the real world there was no way of reaching him.

Severus appeared around noon. He did not look left or right as he went quickly through to the kitchen and closed the door with an additional spell.

This won't do, Ginny thought. Eventually, he will finish his lunch. She stalled in front of the kitchen door, listening. For a long time, she heard nothing unusual. Severus cut bread and cheese and made coffee. Footsteps...but not to the door...and a cupboard-door squeaked. He might have fetched a tomato or a fruit? Rapid chopping sounds and then a marginal intake of breath. She heard him murmur a blood stilling spell, and the next cuts came slower in succession, albeit even more forceful.

Tears came to Ginny's eyes, but she blinked them away just in time, for his footsteps did come towards the door, and she prepared herself. When he opened the door, she stood directly in his path on his way back to the cellar. He did not acknowledge her at all, instead heading for the bathroom as if she didn't exist.

Should she play the same game again? The bathroom door was narrower; he would not be able to stalk straight past her if she placed herself perfectly.

Severus took his time in the bathroom, vigorously washing his already clean hands. Again, she had tried to mock him. She would not get a chance! He would not listen to any of her invitations, accusations or humiliations. She would be given strict orders and regulations like the child she was after all. He checked his watch. The planet movements were unstable, reflecting his state of mind. Two hours left until the time he had set her. He needed this time to finish the potion, and she would not make him fail! The skin on his hand could not stand another attack with the simple soap he used. It was reddish and itchy already. With a huff, he took a bit of the skin balm, although he hated the smeary touch it left. After creaming his hands, he flung the door open to leave with speed.

He crashed into her, taking the wind out of her, but he didn't adjust his pace. "You are blocking my way," he snarled, opened the door to the stairs and stomped down.

:*:*:*:

It was ten past two when his potion was bottled and labelled and the desk cleaned. Severus sat idly on his stool for three minutes, mentally preparing himself. For twenty years, he had avoided the rapes on the raids he was forced to participate in. He had declined every party announced with the prospect to 'have women', and when the offers had come unexpectedly, he had immediately bidden his goodbye with whatever excuse he had found.

His master used to allocate him the job of supervisor, and the others were left to believe what they wanted to.

Now, after all these years, Severus saw himself forced to regularly take a little girl because the Dark Lord registered their... copulation.

Two minutes to go. He would do it, yes, he would, and no one would suspect anything! For the first week, he had set up a schedule mimicking the spontaneity he had been so close to actually experiencing. No, don't go there!

A minute to go. She had better be prepared!

She was standing in the middle of the sitting room, now clad in a lose robe of Narcissa's. His anger rose. "Can you not prepare yourself?"

"Severus, can't we..." she began anxiously, seeking his eyes with hers, but he stared past her and interrupted her sentence.

"We are about to, aren't we?" He tore open the robe... to find her nude form underneath. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her unequal but lovely breasts, her slim waist and the hips that were about to grow from adolescent to true female curves. With a frustrated grunt, he moved her shaking form towards the makeshift bed.

Ginny had been so sore last night that she had rummaged the kitchen and bathroom and finally prepared herself with a liberal amount of oil for lubrication. Clinging hard to the better memories, she was awaiting a hard assault that didn't quite come. He wasn't exactly tender and gentle, and he lifted his chin high and past her forehead, but he kneaded her butt and stroked her back and her hips enough to make her relaxed, if not aroused. When he noticed how she had prepared herself, his breath hitched.

Severus found himself unable to abstract the required task from the girl (woman, wife!) herself. Already twice he had forced himself upon her; first in ignorance, but yesterday he had done so deliberately harshly. He had hurt her because she had hurt him. She, the first female in years who had held his interest, who had shown interest. He tried with closed eyes, but saw the brown and blue speckled eyes, begging... It did not work. She was never interested in you. She deserves... In the end, he had to include her more than marginally to stimulate himself...a fact that didn't go well with him at all.

:*:*:*:

The small group that gathered in the kitchen at number twelve, Grimmauld Place nowadays was a despondent one. Years ago, each meal for about a dozen people at the kitchens at Headquarters used to be a loud affair.

In the last weeks, most of the non-Weasley members of the Order escaped Headquarters before dinner and did not arrive before the morning meeting. Harry, Hermione and Ron as well as the Weasley-parents lived permanently in the house and were always present for meals, but there was always at least one more person for meals. It was a good thing that they had never fixed a seating order; there was no chair associated so strongly with Ginny that it would have to be kept empty. Even without a point to set their eyes to, they missed her cheery presence so much that it hurt physically.

This Saturday morning did not make an exception. Fred and George did not open their shop every day anymore, and today they had come over to console their mother or at least give her more shoulders to load her grief on. They would then prepare medical remedies in the Potions lab in Headquarters.

Mr Weasley had a working day and was already in his office. He had decided to take Mondays off and replace them with Saturdays where he had recently been called on a regular basis anyhow. Scrimgeour had not minded much...the man had other pressing matters to attend to.

An owl delivered two copies of the Daily Prophet. Fred fished twelve Knuts out of the jar at the window, surprised at how early the bird came this day. Tilting its head, the bird intensely considered a slice of bacon offered by Fred, when a shriek took it by surprise. It knocked over the tea and hooted indignantly. George jumped hastily off the table to escape the hot flood and dropped his scrambled eggs into Ron's pumpkin juice. "Hermione!" several voices shouted. Ron got up to take a tissue and close the window behind the irritated owl.

Hermione, however, ignored them all. "It's Ginny! Here, page three! Oh, Harry, leave it and take the other copy!"

They barely arranged who was to hold the newspapers without tearing them apart. For several minutes utter silence filled the room, save for the dripping tea that no one cared for. A half-page article with photos showed the missing youngest member of the family, beautifully dressed, positively beaming at the hated Potions master and murderer of Albus Dumbledore, who himself looked...

"...relaxed," Molly noticed.

"...surprisingly good," Hermione commented, earning scoffs from the assembled males.

"...different," Fred and Harry admitted.

"That's Percy!" Ron cried as Ginny leaned even closer to her bridegroom, allowing the spectators a clear view of the third occupant of the photo.

"If you were reading, Ron, you'd have noticed," Hermione murmured, but no one was listening, and she was herself still engulfed in the article.

In smashing words, the reporter described a group wedding.

...

...

Another owl arrived, followed shortly afterwards by a third, both with an official envelope from the Ministry in their beaks. They hooted indignantly as they bumped on the closed window until Hermione, who was a fast reader, finished and let them in. Hooting furiously at being ignored, although their missive was most urgent, they were barely consoled with the bacon she offered absent-mindedly.

She tore the first letter open, noticing too late that Molly and Arthur Weasley were the addressees.

Mum, Dad,

Percy

"That's the Muggle place Dad has visited before," Ron noted. "It's a Greek pub close to the Ministry."

In parallel, Molly had opened the other letter. It was for her from her husband, confirming Percy's missive, adding that he would pick Molly up and that she should wear Muggle clothes. Arthur insisted on bystanders from the Order and mentioned four names.

Molly, dear, try to reach them and only them. Arrange with one at least to sit in the tavern before we arrive.

Love, Arthur

It was half past nine. Hedwig, Errol and Pigwidgeon were sent to Mad Eye, Lupin, Mundungus and a school chum of Arthur's and trusted Order member, Greta Creak, with the question if they could free themselves for an early lunch.

The Floo flared, and Remus and Tonks arrived, tightly followed by the equally concerned Headmistress, who pushed at them so that Tonks knocked over a jug of pumpkin juice. Remus drew his wand to temporarily close the Floo to avoid a crowd, but Neville was quicker, almost throwing Remus into Fred's back.

As the birds returned, the replies passed through the excitedly discussing throng. Dung, never receiving the Prophet, declared the time to be too early for him to be on duty. Whatever this was about, it had to wait. The other two readily agreed and expected next orders.

:*:*:*:

Arthur paced nervously at the Floo before he could finally announce the location...only to be bounced back in a cloud of soot. Angrily, he Apparated as close to Headquarters as he dared. He had a long walk, which made his timing a close cut.

When he stomped into the kitchen, the only occupied room, he was already in Muggle clothes. Letting go of Fred and running over to him, Molly exclaimed, "Arthur, finally!" She embraced her husband with shaking hands.

"Molly, dear, don't get soot all over you now. I'm sorry I'm quite late. There is something wrong with the Floo," he explained as he vigorously brushed his baby-blue suit. With a rapid movement, Hermione charmed it to show an irregularly patterned, dark blue. "Ah, good thinking," Arthur acknowledged her.

Guiltily, Remus nodded. "I wanted to keep others out; didn't think of tailoring it."

"You did the right thing. Look what I've got here," Arthur told the room, focusing on Minerva and Mad Eye. "I Apparated to the yellow bushes in the park and took a run. I was about to enter the street when a huge owl arrived, screeching indignantly at me."

Reading aloud to them all, Minerva became even more furious.

Mr Weasley,

The Daily Prophet – your connection to the world

"The nerve of these reporters!" ... "Don't go!" ... "How dare they?" Everybody shouted until the Headmistress called for order.

"You must leave. I understand that you selected the people to support you such that the Ministry would not get suspicious. Very wise. I suggest that Remus and Mr Longbottom should go. Yes, he wasn't on your list, but he will be a wonderful excuse for Remus to be there in the first place. Dolores Umbridge or others of her retinue might turn up together with Percy. They would recognise a half-breed, as they say...Nymphadora, mind the coffee...immediately. Alastor, if you would keep an eye on the tavern from outside. Please join Longbottom only if Remus is made to leave and he is left alone. We'll play nicely if they do, so to say."

"Don't you believe I could play the Slytherin way, Minerva?" Remus tried to joke, but it did not go too well. He was already dressed in jacket and jeans and asked Arthur for directions while Harry fetched a Muggle outfit for his friend, who had arrived in wizard robes. "Don't hesitate to hex the git before he gets you," Harry said, feeling less than gracious towards Percy. The two departed.

Arthur told the rest of them that he had not been able to contact his son at the Ministry. "The Auror department had him questioned all morning. He was barely allowed to send the owls when they received the Prophet."

"He will come with bodyguards, you'll see," Ron said.

"Guarding him from Mum and Dad..." ... "...or them from him?" the twins asked, one finishing the other's sentence.

With all the patience she could muster, Hermione waited for a silent moment. "This article is formulated differently from the normal Prophet style. Have you recognised who has written it? I have not." None of them knew the moniker sdv.

Contrary to most, McGonagall and Hermione insisted that Arthur should go to this ominous interview. "Try to ascertain who is behind this article."

"I know Skeeter. Insist on a normal quill or you won't recognise the result," Harry added. "Say hello from Hermione and myself. That should help."

Littered with further advice and wishes, the nervous couple Flooed to the Ministry, which wasn't far from the Green Lantern.

Professor McGonagall set the remaining Weasleys and friends on several tasks about the article. She left them a third copy of the Prophet. "I must leave. Such a disruption is too predictable to have all of us drop our current work. Merlin knows what has happened in the half hour I was here."

:*:*:*:

Molly and Arthur Weasley spotted their son immediately. He sat three booths down from the entry and looked wary and far less self-assured than on their last, difficult meeting months ago. On that occasion, he had point-blank refused to attend his brother's wedding because the bride was a foreigner and part-Veela. Now he slouched on a bench at the window seat with a Ministry Auror blocking his way out. Another Auror sat at the head of the table, leaving Molly and Arthur the two places opposite their son.

Purposefully, they did not spare a glance at the two men in the booth they passed. Molly made to move in and was taken by surprise when her son stood to peck her cheek. "From Ginny," he said stiffly and sat down again, his right hand shaking. "She insisted I convey it to you."

Molly poured questions onto him. "You've seen her? Actually talked to her? What did she say? How..."

"Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley," the young Auror next to Percy interrupted sharply. "We don't have all day. We have questioned your son all morning, and he had best tell you the story as he saw it. Please keep your questions for later."

While thoroughly annoyed, Arthur gripped Molly's hand. "Calm down, love. We'd best follow their rules."

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," the man at the head end said. "Oh, and I'm Auror Constantine Rutting; this is Malcolm Dim, an apprentice," he said with an excuse in his voice. "I understand your anxiety, and I'm sorry for what you and your daughter are going through." With a sharp look, he reprimanded the young man for his rudeness. "Mr Percy Weasley, please," he gestured for Percy to begin. Arthur couldn't help thinking that Mr Rutting had not registered the significance of what his son had told and was about to report again now. "Start from your encounter in the office Thursday afternoon."

Loud enough to draw the attention of all patrons to their table, Percy retorted, "It was not in the afternoon! I was in my office working late because the regulation for..."

"Never mind that. You were working, although it was late, what time?" Rutting interrupted.

"It was definitely past eight. I usually work that late. Considering our situation, my investigation is of utmost..."

"MR WEASLEY. Report on the issue at hand. Facts. The door opened..."

In a slightly dull voice, sounding as if he had done so repeatedly already, Percy related his experience. "The door opened, and I was being friendly with the other night-time workers. But they did not bother and hit me squarely with a stunner. Who would think one had to expect such behaviour!" Back in the other booth, Remus and Neville shook their heads. Percy Weasley was upset about the lack of respect Death Eaters showed towards a junior Ministry official!

The tedious monologue lasted for more than an hour. Every now and again, Rutting or Arthur had to draw Percy's focus back to the wedding. Even Molly lost her temper once and reminded her confused son about the topic they were currently interested in.

Filling their stomach with a Greek village salad, dolmades, tzatziki, grilled octopus and souvlaki and an Ouzo, Remus and Neville took notes that they would later compile to form the following report:

Percy Weasley was stunned and abducted Thursday night around 8p.m. from his workplace. He woke up...or was Rennervated, this wasn't clear...around 7 a.m. the next day, lying in his underwear on a camp-bed in a small, badly lit room. A voice told him to dress, and he did not find his wand. The clothes that he had worn all Thursday were neat and tidy, indicating that an elf had cleaned and ironed them. An unknown elf gave him a rudimentary breakfast of porridge and coffee...although he told them he preferred tea! Blindfolded, bound and gagged...hmpf...he was Apparated to a building full of people, where he saw Dolores Umbridge, who was bound like him. Both were levitated into a hall by Mr Mulciber.

Snape then demanded that his bride be given a chance to talk to Percy before the ceremony, but at that moment there was only another bride in the hall, dressed up to the nines. Percy recognised her and her bridegroom as Slytherins from his own year and the year above. Neville and Remus jotted down their names, although neither rang a bell.

When the room had suddenly gone quiet, Snape turned and his whole demeanour changed. He was suddenly all the... loving... groom. Percy had as much trouble saying it as Neville noting it down. His eyes not wavering, he strode over to Ginny. The girl looked more adult than ever before as she stood there in her dress and heels, her head high. She was so pretty and radiated excitement...she was as excited and lovely as a bride should be. No, Percy insisted, there wasn't a sign of a curse, a potion or any other mind-addling influence. But he admitted he hadn't been fully attentive, still hoping he would wake up from the nightmare.

For an exchange of maybe five sentences, he spoke with her, or actually she had talked most all the time. She insisted that she was there voluntarily, gave him the kiss for their mum and expressed gratitude that at least one family member was present. She missed them and sent her warmest thoughts.

The first formidable wizard interrupted them, sent Ginny out, placed Percy into the second row and gave him instructions on what to do. With the alternative either being put under the Imperius or doing it from his own motivation, he decided to stay in control of his mind, even if he still had doubts that it all was real.

Shock went through all listeners when Percy reported that the Dark Lord was Snape's best man. That Draco Malfoy stood to Ginny's side was greeted with almost similar dismay.

In lieu of their father, Percy accompanied his sister to her husband's right-hand side. She gripped his hand hard, but walked with firm steps. He noted that the image of Godric Gryffindor and his lion smarted up as they approached.

In the neighbouring booth, a fork dropped on the plate with a clatter, and hastily, Molly coughed.

"You-Know-Who did not interfere?" Arthur asked in disbelief. Percy replied that he had appeared amused, if such a notion could be seen in the snake-like face at all.

For Umbridge's speech and spells, Percy was not allowed to return to his previous seat, but forced to the back where a wand was poked into his left side. He recalled only how Ginny refused to be kissed and Snape's shock. They had kissed each other fondly before the ceremony...yuck, thought Neville...but this time she would not have it. Snape turned a pale shade of green and was a terrible sight when they walked back to their places. Percy's eyes did not leave his sister's and Snape's backs, but they never turned around.

Here, Rutting told them that his mind had registered more anyway, although the acoustics were bad. They had gathered all of it in a Pensieve. Arthur would be granted access rights to the Pensieve once the Ministry was finished with its analysis.

At the feast, Percy was placed at the lowest corner and given potatoes and sauce only. He did not see Ginny or Snape again before being hauled from the room and Stunned.

Percy indignantly obeyed to skip how the Death Eaters had interrogated him, but he rolled up his sleeve to show marks. Then he reported how they had thrown him through the entrance of the Ministry. His shoulder still hurt; he winced. At this remark, Arthur finally lost his nerves and cut him short. He should imagine what his sister was going through and immediately stop wallowing in self-pity. Percy accused his parents of always looking for an argument when they met him. And besides, why had they discarded Ginny so easily, he argued. "You are the ones playing a dangerous game at her cost!"

It was the last straw. Molly, who had always been ready to defend the oddball of her family, got up and slapped him.

While the two glared at each other in disbelief, Arthur discussed with the Aurors how to get the most out of Percy's memory. "Can we identify who abducted him, who returned him?"

"He was, of course, Obliviated, sir. We could break the charm, if you wish to press charges, but to be honest..."

Arthur immediately shook his head, yet Percy got furious, accusing them of wishing to impair his judgement only to destroy his career.

"Oh, yes, a brain does not always recover after strong memory charms," Arthur returned coldly. "Remind me who it was who had put poor Miss Jorkins in a similar state?" Before Percy was able to retort, the Auror apprentice had put him under a jaw-lock. This time, nobody felt they should correct the youngster. The Aurors made to leave, pulling Percy along.

Hastily, Arthur kissed his wife goodbye. "I will see to the Prophet by myself if you aren't up to it. Relax. Take your Ouzo now, I think!" He returned to his workplace with the three other men.

When the door to the tavern closed behind them, Remus and Neville moved over to the next booth to give Molly their moral support. She had hardly touched her food and shoved the plate to Remus, who tucked in with little hesitation. She eyed the drink with suspicion, but on Remus' reassuring encouragement, she downed the foreign drink. They were soon joined by Alastor Moody. He was quickly informed about the Pensieve and the Aurors' ideas when to deliver it. "I'll show them myself who gets to see it and when," he roared and left. After all, he was still an authority at the Ministry, albeit only called for special tasks.

By now even the last places of the tavern had filled with Muggle lunch guests, and the innkeeper asked pointedly what else he could get them. The three Order members settled their bill and returned to Headquarters, where Hermione and Ron placed Molly on the sofa and handed her warm tea. Everybody sat around them and was filled in.

:*:*:*:

A shrilly orange Rita Skeeter, smiling like a Cheshire cat, generously invited Arthur Weasley into her office, quill poised. Her robe sported fringes along the sleeves and the hem of the skirt, which flapped on their own accord and emitted little silvery sparks as she spoke. A photographer hopped around excitedly, and for a moment the three performed a dance of sorts as Arthur moved to turn his back towards the camera while the other two tried to avoid just that. Mr Weasley forbade any picture-taking. "With regards from Hermione Granger and Harry Potter," he relayed to her with a determination he didn't feel. Skeeter immediately waved the man away. "And kindly stash away the Quick Quotes Quill," Arthur added, fascinated at how smoothly she obeyed. The fringes stopped emitting sparks and nearly lost all will to wave. What hold did those two have over her? He stored the thought for later reference, but today he would use every means to get through the meeting.

"I'm not going to talk only to you, Ms Skeeter. Please call in Mr Pester," he demanded. She clearly despised the fact that a good story was lost, but agreed.

Arthur concentrated hard on asking more than answering. They would not catch him with an article in the tone of their letter. Notorio Pester had indeed received the ready-made article and been threatened into publishing it unaltered. "Look around in Diagon Alley," he argued, waving his arm towards the window. "Two-thirds of the businesses are closed. I'm not keen on ending up as Ollivander or Fortescue. When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named needs publicity, he will get it."

"I can see that," Arthur replied and pulled a parchment out of his pocket. The short text had been discussed with Rufus Scrimgeour. "You may publish this tomorrow under the same notion. I'm not keen on ending up on the first pages, but please do not place it amidst the obituaries."

Skeeter grimaced in dismay and pierced the parchment with her talons as she tapped on it. "I could pep this up here and there..."

"...but Miss Granger said you would not."

As her face lost its sparkles, even her dress changed to a subtle shade of apricot. "Very well."

"Mr Weasley," Pester started again, his voice neutral. "Would you like a few high quality copies of your daughter's wedding photo? I cannot deliver the negatives, but colour photos on glossy paper, maybe four-by-six inches, would be no problem at all."

Arthur Weasley was torn between the shock over the unconcerned question and the thought that this might well be the very last picture they would ever get from their daughter. He selected one where the bridal pair was visible in an oval shape with the rest blurred and whitewashed, so that no one else was to be seen. It was a nice shot, but the pair did disappear from view rather often. With a sigh, he also selected one giving the full scene, allowing the bridal pair to stay in view and Percy to appear behind them. It inevitably included Malfoy and the red-eyed, reptile-like monster everybody feared. He was the man whose juvenile form had already stolen a year of happy school life from his daughter. Now he was once again holding the threads of her life in his claws.

:*:*:*:

Ginny's whole weekend followed the same pattern as Saturday morning. Severus restricted their interaction to the bare minimum. The most positive thing was maybe that he didn't purposefully hurt her body. On Sunday night he took more time, even touched her gently, but Ginny wasn't fooled: he needed to please her to trick his body into a performance his mind abhorred. Her own meagre comfort was more of a by-product.

Yet, there was an honesty in his actions. He hated her for luring him into showing his feelings, which meant his feelings had indeed been honest. Most likely, Severus hated himself just as much as he hated her. It was a sad thought, bringing her no comfort.

After missing him getting up on Saturday morning, she made an effort to be ready to have breakfast with him on Sunday and Monday. On both occasions, she asked about his plans for the day. He hissed sharply that she knew the schedule and everything else wasn't her business. At least she received her wand on Monday because Severus was leaving on a spying trip.

Whatever it was, this time he seemed to be going out alone. She would not get any details. She couldn't expect anything from him before seven minutes to half past ten. Sharp.

:*:*:*:

Ginny found herself confronted with uncountable hours of loneliness. She was not to leave the house, except for shopping, and even the garden was out of bounds. The only company she could find were... books. There was an abundance of them. For the first time in her life, Ginny got absorbed in books. It was not like she had never read before, but with her brothers' noisy and often smelly activities it had not been very easy. She was not like Percy, who would close the door and demand silence for days in a row.

Consequently, the small repertoire of books at her parents' place had never held her attention. Here, she could hardly complain about missing a book that would grip her. Severus was well equipped indeed. Tomes on Dark Arts, Potions and text written in ancient runes were represented aplenty. On all the other subjects Hogwarts taught...with the obvious exception of Divination and Muggle Studies...his collection contained at least intermediate-level books. The books he had on plant-life and fauna considered them mostly from the point of view of a potions brewer. However, since many Potions masters grew their own supplies, your average Herbology student would do well enough if he knew half of what they presented. Remarkably, many of the texts were inaccessible to Ginny because they were written in what she assumed was French.

The books that actively attracted her attentions were all on one shelf that she steered clear of. She had had her share of aggressive books and didn't feel like spending endless hours in their power.

It was, however, another shelf that soon caught Ginny's attention: small, soft-cover books made from thin, rustling paper...Muggle literature. She quickly understood that these were not the material Hermione called Science and that the girl had compared with their school subjects. No, Severus owned a selection of English and international literature from the last few hundred years. Famous names were among them, names that she had heard mentioned at times, but had not been able to place.

With time at her disposal, Ginny discovered different genres, poems, novels, short stories, stage plays and learned to differentiate books focusing on personal relationships, of which Severus had only a few, from books describing and accusing social conditions, then and now. Many a book was commented on in Severus' tiny writing, and for some that described despotic or authoritarian regimes, like the shocking story called 1984, she noticed that his comments had been erased and altered several times.

She became irritated when the Muggles in one book built complex contraptions and flew to the stars where they met strange extraterrestrial beings she had never heard even Dean or Colin talk about. Conversely, in other books, the Muggles did not use cars or electricity. Ginny started reading the back covers and forewords to understand what was supposed to be close to reality...even if she did not easily recognise this reality...and what was deliberate fiction. Just like Wolfsbane and other advanced potions, Muggle medicine and what they called technology had been invented and developed over centuries. Dickens, for example, had simply lived and written before the first cars had been built.

With a smile, she recalled that Severus had not known of CDs, even though they seemed to be an essential part of her own age group. Thinking of tonight, the smile froze on her face.

Despite her miserable life, she had to laugh at the fantastic stories on dragons or wizards Muggles had come up with. So had Severus, as was visible from his sarcastic comments. Yet, some seemed so oddly close to wizard legends that she wondered if it had not been a wizard, or maybe a Squib, who had written them. Quite many books contained a Dark Force, or a Dark wizard, suppressing the good.

At times, Ginny succeeded in forgetting her miserable conditions and, for the first time in her life, lost herself in a good book.

:*:*:*:

It was Wednesday morning, and Severus was glad to have his first 'day off'. Off from the appalling task he now had to perform. Twice a week was the requirement, and after what simulated a honeymoon to all those who enjoyed looking at the charts, he was now finally getting into the scheme. Thursdays and Mondays it would be.

He had kept himself out of the house the last few days and likewise, he would do so today.

According to a reduced training plan, Draco would be visiting them every Tuesday and Friday. Yesterday, the girl had launched herself at him verbally and entangled him in a most friendly chat over dinner. She had made an effort to include Severus, but he hadn't felt Draco needed any illusion of the mess he had created. Severus' answers had been polite but short or dismissive, so that soon they had left Severus out of their discussion.

Draco's eyes had wandered from one to the other, brows furrowed in concern. When he had taken up the packet with her borrowed wedding dress and shoes to have his mother return them to their owners, Ginny had asked him imploringly for dinner next Friday and the other training days. She had taken Severus by surprise, but he could not recall an invitation his wife had given. Draco had frowned but politely agreed for the following Friday and Tuesday, but not without a questioning second look at Severus.

Whenever she was in a room with him, she had made an effort to talk to him, but he would not allow it. As if he would give her the satisfaction!

In the mornings, she had been at the breakfast table or had joined him in the kitchen...whatever way he arranged his breakfast.

This morning was no exception. They were standing in the kitchen for breakfast for the sole reason that she had prepared a big meal with scrambled eggs and bacon as well as porridge. His intent to show her how little he cared was broken quickly. The smell was just too good to resist, although he wouldn't tell her so. He tucked in heartily.

In contrast to the day before, she wore the necklace with the little leopardess he had given her in the befuddled state of mind he had been in. She had worn it on most days, but not on all, and he didn't see a pattern. Why do I spend my thoughts on trivialities like this? Severus was sure he had not frowned or otherwise shown his displeasure, but she jerked back as if sensing it all the same.

When he was about to leave the house, she asked him, "Severus, will you be home for lunch? Or maybe for dinner?"

Angry at the interruption, he turned around to face her. Her right hand clenched over the pendant, knuckles showing. "We have clarified that it is none of your business." And stop using my name, he would have liked to add, but it wasn't really a request he could make. He stared at the yet unopened door to collect himself. With a last fierce look back at her, he opened it and left...or that had been his intention.

Instead, he caught her staring at the far wall, tears in her eyes, kissing the little pendant. It had nearly undone him. She clutched to the thing as a means of comfort? Something he had given her?

:*:*:*:

:*:*:*:

Once again, my thanks go to my betas Jingjingchiquita and Hollimel99. They worked their own, brilliant magic on this chapter to make it readable and logical. Their help and patience is invaluable.

Are you curious how it came that Draco works with Severus? Check out the little prequel Three Options for Draco that I have started here in the same archive.