Chapter One: A Vision in Haze
She stood slowly, wincing at
the pain in her back. At eight months pregnant, friends told Ginny Potter that
she was glowing and beautiful, but what she felt was fat and uncomfortable. The
swelling in her feet and the pain in her back made sitting or standing a task
to be accomplished as slowly as possible so as not to jar anything. Once she
was seated, no position was comfortable, and standing made her tire. Nesting
instincts were kicking in, and no speck of dust in the house was safe. The
kitchen had already undergone a deep cleaning, and Harry had nearly lost his
mind when heÕd discovered her on her knees attempting to scrub the bathtub by
hand, since the spells didnÕt do nearly as good a job as she could do with her
own hands.
As she walked to the kitchen
to get a glass of milk, she passed the picture frames on the mantle. They were
pictures she and Harry had chosen and framed together, she remembered, when
theyÕd first bought the house outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. She recalled the
one time sheÕd been to the DursleysÕ household and seen the shrine to Dudley,
so she was careful to pick pictures of many people -- her family, friends from
school they still kept in touch with, Ron and HermioneÕs son Andrew, and Bill
and FleurÕs daughter Cathy. The largest picture was one of their wedding,
displaying the moment when they sealed their vows with a kiss.
Ginny smiled as she watched a
much thinner version of herself enthusiastically kiss the boy of her dreams,
who had slowly become the man of her future . Taking a step forward, she
caressed the wood of the frame for a moment before her eyes moved to the
picture of her mother holding her after her birth. She watched almost
breathlessly as Molly was handed a squealing bundle, and couldnÕt help but
smile as Molly burst into tears, mouthing over and over, ÒItÕs a girl! Finally,
itÕs a girl!Ó
Rubbing her hands over her
belly in the slow circular motion she now found was an almost a constant, Ginny
began to talk to the baby nestled inside of her. ÒThatÕs Grandma Weasley. My
mum. YouÕre going to love her. She makes the best biscuits and the worst
sweaters. Your dadÕs mumÉÓ Ginny trailed off, uncertain why she had begun to
think of this now, when it didnÕt seem appropriate to talk about sad things.
Not having two sets of grandparents was common enough. Her thoughts were
interrupted as a soft pop behind her let her know Harry had arrived at home.
ÒHey Ginny,Ó Harry whispered,
coming up behind her to wrap his arms around the swell of her belly and kiss
her cheek. ÒWhat are you looking at?Ó
ÒThe baby and I are starting
to learn names early, since thatÕs a skill itÕs going to have to employ very
early in life.Ó
Harry chuckled. ÒYou can say
a lot about our family, but ÔsmallÕ it isnÕt.Ó
Ginny nodded, a smile
creeping over her face. ÒI donÕt think I got up to look at pictures, though,Ó
she admitted. ÒI think I was headed to the kitchen to get a glass of milk.Ó
ÒWell then, letÕs go get a
glass of milk. I could use some water. Practice was a bit rough today.Ó
With a grin, Ginny took
HarryÕs hand and walked to the kitchen, letting him pamper her for a minute, and
feeling calm and relaxed for the first time all day. ÒHarry, do you suppose
IÕll be a good mum?Ó she asked, debating the advantages of sitting versus standing.
ÒOf course,Ó Harry answered a
bit distractedly as he rummaged about in the fridge for the missing milk. ÒGin,
did you drink all the milk?Ó
Resisting the urge to stomp
her feet, she snapped, ÒHarry. Will you focus on my question, please?Ó
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó Harry said,
popping up over the door to look her directly in the eyes. ÒI thought youÕd be
more concerned about the milk, but I guess I guessed wrong.Ó
Ginny let out a
long-suffering sigh, went around to the sink and pulled out a rag to wipe down the counter. ÒIÕd like the
milk, yes. But do you think IÕll be a good mum?Ó
Harry thought for a moment,
considering the question. ÒI think if you canÕt be a good mum, Ginny, no one
can.Ó Walking up behind her, he set the newfound milk on the counter and
started rubbing her shoulders gently. ÒDo you know what else I think?Ó
ÒHmm, what?Ó Ginny asked,
after sheÕd taken a long swallow of the milk Harry had carefully poured for her.
ÒI think maybe you should try
to catch a nap now while youÕre warm and sleepy,Ó Harry suggested. ÒMaybe IÕll
even lay down with you.Ó
Ginny smiled. ÒAre you going
to haul me up the stairs, Mr. Potter?Ó
Harry chuckled. ÒNo, but IÕll
stand behind you so you donÕt fall back down them. How does that sound?Ó
ÒIÕll take it,Ó Ginny agreed.
**
A hazy fog set over her mind,
and Ginny got the impression that a new world was forming. She was standing
somewhere – over a sink, mostly likely. And she was herself, but not
herself. Ginny was skinny again, and she felt taller somehow. Her hair was less
red and more auburn, and her eyes
– her eyes were definitely different. Somehow she knew her eyes were
green, and that she was not Ginny Potter at all, but another woman who had
shared her surname – Lily.
She was puttering around the
kitchen, cleaning up after a meal and listening to the sounds of her husband
and her baby. James was bouncing the child and singing a silly song about
dragons and Hufflepuffs. Not a tune she (as Lily) recognized, but one Ginny
knew from her childhood.
Although Ginny knew she was
not Lily, she could feel the pleasure Lily got from wiping down the counters
herself, sticking her hands into the warm water sheÕd soaked the dishes in, and
humming along carelessly with her – LilyÕs – husband.
ÒJames, itÕs late! DonÕt you
think you should put Harry down?Ó she called up the stairs as she started to
wipe her hands off with a dishtowel.
ÒNonsense!Ó James shouted
back, his voice modulating so that Lily knew he was bouncing the baby. ÒHeÕs
mostly nocturnal, anyway.Ó
ÒWeÕve been trying to fix
that, darling,Ó Lily said as she climbed the stairs, meeting James at the top.
ÒItÕs not fair to us to have him up at all hours when most other children his
age are sleeping through the night.Ó
James made a silly face at
the bundle in his arms. ÒDid you hear that, Harry? MumÕs tired. Guess that
means the jigÕs up for you, mÕboy. Bedtime!Ó
ÒHere, James. YouÕre too much
of a softie. HeÕd just stay up until I got back, so IÕll put him down. Why
donÕt you go check the security wards?Ó
Carelessly, James kissed
LilyÕs cheek. ÒAll right. Caught me at my own game. Off I go then, I suppose.Ó
ÒYes. Be careful, please.Ó
ÒAlways,Ó James said, and
headed down the stairs and out the door.
With a sinking feeling, Ginny
realized he would never walk up the stairs again. Desperately, she tried to
call out to him, but she could no longer move LilyÕs mouth and she was being
pulled up and away.
**
ÒGinny. Ginny.Ó Harry was
softly but intently calling her name, resting a hand on her shoulder. ÒWake up!
YouÕre crying!Ó
As she slowly fought her way
past the fog in her brain, Ginny sat up and wiped her eyes with her hands and
swallowed as her husband came into focus, looking scared and very white. ÒIÕm
sorry. Did I frighten you?Ó
ÒNah, IÕm made of steel.
Pregnant women bawling in their sleep donÕt scare me,Ó Harry joked
sarcastically.
Ginny smiled in spite of
herself. ÒPregnant women in general scare you, Harry Potter. DonÕt even lie.Ó
ÒAll right. You caught me at
my own game,Ó Harry admitted.
Suddenly, all the color drained
from GinnyÕs face. ÒDonÕt say that.Ó She pulled herself to a standing position
and looked at Harry, who was still on his side and looking rather shocked. ÒI
just hadÉ I just had the most disturbing dream.Ó
ÒTell me about it,Ó Harry
said, patting a space beside him on the bed. ÒYou always told me it was best to
talk about dreams. That way they canÕt haunt us during the day. ThatÕs pretty
much a direct quote.Ó
Ginny tried to smile. ÒIt was
your mum. I was her. Or I wasnÕt, but I was in her. ItÕs hard to explain. She was messing about in
the kitchen. You know, cleaning up this and that. Your dad was upstairs,
playing with you.Ó
Harry swallowed. He had a
feeling he knew where this was going. ÒAnd then what?Ó
ÒThen she came upstairs and
told your dad to put you down, that you werenÕt sleeping all the way through
the night and that you should be letting them get some rest. Then your dad left
to check the wards. I donÕt think he came back.Ó
Harry sat in silence, letting
the full impact of the dream hit him. He knew this spoke directly to both he
and GinnyÕs worst, and as of yet unspoken, fears.
ÒIÕm going to come back
tonight when I check the wards, Ginny. And every night. Because thereÕs no one
after us like Voldemort. WeÕve beaten him and we can destroy anyone like him
who tries to take us from our child.Ó
The way Harry had phrased the
last sentence was not lost on her. ÒShe was lovely, Harry,Ó Ginny said,
blinking back tears. ÒIf you could have felt the love in her heart for you... She loved you the way we
already love this baby. WeÕre going to be okay.Ó
ÒOf course we are,Ó Harry
agreed, ignoring the squeezing pressure in his chest that demanded he release
some of his emotion. ÒUm, this seems a weird question, butÉ your mum called
while you were asleep. Do you want to eat at the Burrow tonight?Ó
Ginny pondered for a moment.
ÒYes. I think I want my mum. Do you mind if we ask her to stay for a couple of
days after the baby gets here?Ó
Something like relief passed
over HarryÕs face. ÒNot at all.Ó
**
The kitchen of the Burrow
bustled with energy as Molly Weasley orchestrated the making of a meal the same
way someone else might orchestrate the final movement of a symphony. Seated on
a stool under orders to rest, Ginny watched her mother efficiently prepare a
meal that would surely be able to feed twenty people.
ÒYou know, Mum, they tell me
IÕm supposed to have gained 25 or 30 pounds with this pregnancy. I think IÕve
gained 40 and itÕs all your fault.Ó
Molly clucked her tongue.
ÒYoung people today worry too much about the numbers. And besides, when you
have that bouncing baby in your arms, youÕre not going to mind the 40 pounds so
much.Ó
There was a pause as Molly
continued to bustle and Ginny thought through what she wanted to ask. ÒMumÉ
what do you know about Lily Potter?Ó
Molly stopped what she was
doing a moment, although the kitchen continued to take care of business. ÒWell.
That seems a strange question.Ó
ÒItÕs just thatÉ we know a
lot about James. But all Harry has of his mother is a couple of photographs and
a few pieces of the memory of that night when she saved him from Voldemort. If
I were to die before my child got to know meÉ I would want there to be more,
you know?Ó
Molly nodded. ÒThey were
young, James and Lily. I doubt they thought about leaving scrapbooks and things
of that nature lying around. ThereÕs always time in the future to do that sort
of thing, you think.Ó
ÒI think IÕm going to get a
hold of Remus and see what he knows about her, maybe see if any of her friends
survived the war. IÕd like to do something for Harry while IÕm puttering around
the house this last month. I need something to keep me from going insane and
cleaning the bathroom again.Ó
Molly chuckled, remembering
very well what she had been like in each of her pregnancies. ÒThat sounds like
a lovely project, my dear. And IÕm sure Harry will appreciate it, and maybe
even your child will at some point.Ó
Ginny smiled and rubbed her
belly. ÒSometimes it doesnÕt seem real, like IÕll wake up some morning and I
wonÕt have all this – Harry, and the baby on the way. It doesnÕt seem
very much like IÕll have a child someday soon, who will be able to read and ask
questions andÉÓ
ÒGet into absolutely
everything and drive you crazy,Ó Molly finished. ÒBut you will, and those days
are coming up fast.Ó
**