- Rough Draft
- Work in Progress
- Abuse - Child
- Drug Use
- Dubious Consent
- Future Fic
Ginevra Potter-Black nee Weasley woke up clear-headed. This shouldn’t have been a surprise considering she was a morning person, but as she lay there revelling in the clarity, she realized it had been years since her thoughts were unclouded. Searching back in her memory, Ginny dimly remembered that the last time she had clarity of thought was the Yule before her first year, when she was 10 years old. Her mind had been foggy for over 13 years and she hadn’t noticed.
A rush of anger surged in her heart, but she pushed it away, instead focussing on tracing the facts. The first fact being, of course, that someone had been distorting her memory and thinking for over a decade. The second fact being that only a few people in her life where capable of doing so, and even less had been in position to accomplish it.
The only fact she couldn’t figure out was how. Hexes were a possibility. Ginny spent hours with her team, in crowds in Diagon Alley, with her family. There were so many places she could have been hexed. A cursed artifact was another way, but Ginny didn’t wear much in the way of jewelry and nothing she had worn as a child had made it to adulthood. That left the most likely way: potions. Of course, that meant the suspect list was both smaller and larger.
She bit back the scream that built in her chest.
The bed moved shifted slightly, startling Ginny out of her thoughts. Turning her head, she met vibrant green eyes that watched her intently.
“You know,” she whispered into silence.
“How long?” Only a fierce grip on her temper kept her voice level.
“About a week,” Harry answered, moving to sit up.
Ginny pushed herself upward and shifted back to lean against the headboard. A week. Her husband had known she was living under a potion for a week. She glared at him.
“How did you find out?”
Harry raked his hands through his hair, making already sleep messed strands stand further on end. “Turns out there’s some non-human blood in the Potter line.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that,” she scoffed. “Most pureblood families have a Magical Creature somewhere in their lineage.”
“Yes, but most of those families don’t have to worry about have a power surge that activates said Creature blood,” he replied drily.
“Activates?” She paused, pulling her thoughts together. “What type of creature? Please tell me not a vampire. Bloodborn Vampires are the worst to deal with.”
“And if I was?” he asked, green eyes flashing.
“I really don’t know,” she admitted. “Everything is up in the air right now.” She shook her head. “Just tell me.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Dragon.”
She had to have heard the wrong. There was no way Harry had Dragon blood. Dragon Kin had gone extinct centuries ago, many hunted down, the rest suiciding rather than living under wizard rule.
Yet, the possibility was there. There were so many ways Harry was like a Dragon. He was possessive and fiercely protective of those he considered family. His temper was slow to rise but burned hot and long once he was roused.
She glanced over and smiled softly. “How did you figure it out? All of it.”
“Well, for the creature blood, it was at work. I can’t actually say what I was doing, but let’s just say I had a bit of a magic surge and bam woke up the Dragon,” he said, miming and explosion. “I ended up in a time bubble under Gringotts to learn to handle it. The blood burned out all potions in my system. The Goblin healer told me that most Wizarding potions won’t work on me now. My Dragon side will overwhelm and burn them out every time.”
“What about if you get hurt?” she cried out, a spike of fear lancing through her. “How will they treat you?”
He smiled at her. “Surprisingly, Goblin made potions will work.” He made a face. “They taste worse than the normal ones.”
“I didn’t think that was possible,” she laughed.
“Neither did I,” Harry admitted. He sobered. “When I woke up after the remains of the potions were gone, I noticed a vast difference in how I felt, how I acted. Ironhand had taken samples of everything my system got rid of and tested them. I had dozens of potions in my body. Compulsion, love, lust, memory. The Healer was surprised I was managing to function at all.”
“Am me? How did you find out I was potioned too?”
“I watched,” he said quietly. “I noticed you acting like I remembered I had. The way you’d stop as if you were about to do something but you couldn’t, something else was stopping you. When you cut yourself in the kitchen the other night I took a sample and had them test it.”
“The same potions?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“Not all of them, but many of the same. Compulsion, love, lust, more memories potions than I had,” he told her. “And accordin to the Ironhand, you had been under their influence longer than I was.”
“Since I was 10,” she whispered.
Harry nodded. “I planned to ask you if you wanted to go to a retreat with me. One of the packages has a Cleanse on it. If figured we go and come back potion-free.”
“After that?” Ginny wondered. “What if I had been in on it all the long?”
“Considering the number of potions you were under, I figured it was safe to assume you weren’t part of it but another victim too,” he told her, reaching out to pick up one of the hand closest to him. His hand was warm, wrapped around hers, a steadying influence. “Seems like I was right.”
She laughed a soft broken sound. “I’m scared, Harry. So scared. We don’t know who did this, or why. We don’t even know how or when!” She blinked back tears. “You might be immune to those potions now, but I’m not. I can end up back in that foggy world at any time and I wouldn’t even know it!”
Harry let go of her hand, and for a second all Ginny could feel was cold. Then warm hands were pulling her against his body, tugging so she was sitting in his lap. He said nothing as he held her, rocking slightly, and to Ginny’s horror, she began crying. Burying her face against Harry’s neck, she sobbed out the terror, grief, and betrayal that infested her heart.
“Better now?” The question was asked softly, barely a whisper against her hair.
“Not really,” she whispered back.
“Oh? The crying didn’t help?”
Ginny thought about it. The tears had helped purge some of the emotions welling up in her, but there was still a mass of anger and grief seething in her soul. “Some, but not enough.”
“Talk to me, Gin.” Harry pushed her back enough to look into her eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m stuck on the who,” she admitted, dropping her hand back to his shoulder. “Given when I was first dosed, there isn’t a lot of choice.”
“Arthur or Molly,” Harry said, speaking the names that blocked her throat.
“Yes,” she said with a sigh.
“Truthfully I can’t image Arthur potioning someone,” Harry added. “Potions don’t seem like his type of thing.”
“But they are Mom’s.” Groaning, Ginny pushed herself up to a seated postion. Not many know it, but Mom was working towards a Mastery in Potions when she got pregnant with Bill. Several different Potion Masters have offered to help her finish, even now, but she keeps turning them down.”
“Why?” Harry looked confused. “There is so much the world can offer if you have a Mastery, especially in something like Potions.”
“I asked once. She told me that she didn’t need the pomp of it, she had her family and she was happy to be where she was.” A thought crossed her mind. “Have you checked any of the others for potions?”
“Not yet? Should I?”
“Check for hexes, curses, and potions for all the family,” she said intently. “I’m starting to think there’s something more going on here.”