Archive of Our Own

The thing is, when the Ministry had suggested the reconciliation program, it had almost sounded like a good idea. Building ties, encouraging a better understanding of muggle culture and magic, promoting better ideals for everyone – what wasn’t to like?

That is, until they heard the catch.

“It’s a complete violation of privacy,” Hermione seethed, pushing the newspaper away. Next to it, a copy of the Quibbler brightly announced: ‘Ministry to Bond Wartime Enemies Today’. “How could anyone possibly think this was a good idea?”

Ron rubbed her back soothingly, but with little effect. He looked nearly as upset as she did. “We knew this was coming. There have been whispers… even Dad’s department have been talking about the bonding.”

Ginny watched as Hermione breathed in, trying to steady herself, and then shook her head and pulled the newspaper closer again.

“I know. But still,” she continued, “Trying to foster friendships and create a better environment is fine. Great, actually. But this… this is awful. They’re putting anyone with muggle heritage at risk, bonding them with people who are known to have anti-muggle beliefs.”

Biting her lip, Ginny cut in. “The Ministry must have some kind of screening process, right? They can’t just bond them with anyone.”

Harry, who had been eating his breakfast and not saying much, snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Ginny let herself look at him carefully. She knew that the world seemed to be expecting them to get back together – the Golden Couple, reunited – but it was hard to imagine going back to that time. So much had happened in the last year. The boy sitting across from her had been through more than she could begin to imagine, and she could barely identify the girl she had been in fifth year.

In any case, there was no rush. The Wizarding World was still in a stage of minor turmoil as the Ministry attempted to piece together a proper government and system. At the moment, Ginny was more worried about that than her potential love life.

Hermione shrugged, sitting back against Ron’s chest. “Apparently there will be tests to match compatibility. But those aren’t infallible. I can’t see it being long before some pure-blood snaps and seriously injures whoever they’re paired with.”

A shiver went around the table. Ginny noticed Ron squeeze Hermione’s hand, and fought the urge to roll her eyes at Ron’s sappiness, choosing instead to shoot Hermione a knowing smile. She had been listening to Hermione’s late-night admissions of her feelings about Ron for years (something that she ought to be congratulated for, actually, seeing as it was her brother she was trying to give advice about). They were happy, though, and that was one good thing to emerge from the past year.

“Compatibility, though,” Ron said, finally. His tone was light as he nudged Hermione. “That sounds romantic. Promise you won’t leave me for some elitist ex-death-eater?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not a chance.”

Harry groaned, without any real annoyance. “Alright, you two.”

Ron threw a piece of bread at him. “How about you? Think one of them will steal the Chosen One’s heart?”

“What about you, Ron?” Ginny teased, as Harry coughed on a sip of tea. “Harbouring any secret feelings for a Slytherin? Goyle, maybe? Bulstrode?”

“Funny,” muttered Ron, spearing a sausage with his fork.

“The Ministry wants any students enrolled in Hogwarts to show up today for the Bonding. Start with the youth, and all that – as if it’s not their parents and grandparents who perpetuated the beliefs in the first place.” Hermione stood up, pulling away from Ron. “But we should get ready.”  

Ginny nodded. “I’ll come with.”

They made their way up the narrow staircase of the Burrow, dodging the odd pile of laundry or books that cluttered the stairs. Hermione and Harry had been staying with the Weasleys ever since the end of the war, and Mrs. Weasley didn’t seem intent on letting them leave anytime soon. Ginny couldn’t help but agree with her mom on that one. The three of them slept at nearly every opportunity for a week after they got back, and they still seemed to be a kind of bone-tired that wasn’t so easily fixed.

When they made it to Ginny’s room, Hermione sank down on her trundle bed with a sigh, pulling her hair out of a bun and massaging her head. She looked exhausted.

“The ministry’s done worse, I suppose,” she said, finally, shrugging.

Ginny felt her jaw clench. “Yeah, sure, when it was under Voldemort’s control. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. If you get Bonded with some… some…” She trailed off at Hermione’s dull laugh.

“Even if I don’t, someone will. Merlin. What a mess.”

Unable to find any kind of reassurance for her friend, Ginny tossed her a hairbrush and busied herself with finding clothes. Within an hour, Harry and Ron had done the same, and the four of them stood near the fireplace with Luna, who had shown up with a small smile.

Harry was the first to grab a fistful of Floo powder, and they watched him disappear before following his lead in silence, stepping into the neon flames and letting the magic whirl them away. The Ministry, when Ginny arrived, was flooded with students. A harassed-looking employee was directing them down the hall to a large, circular auditorium.

Luna spotted Neville ahead, and Ginny ran with her to fall into step with their friend. He grinned at them, his uneasiness thinly concealed by the expression, and Ginny hooked her arm through his. On his other side, Luna did the same.

“Hi,” he said, as if it were any other day. “This is all a bit last minute, huh?”

“It’s the Ministry,” Ginny replied, scanning the crowd in front of them. It seemed to be splitting into different streams, entering through separate doors. “No one ever said they were organized.”

“We only heard it was definitive last night,” Luna told them, leaning her head on Neville’s shoulder. “Dad had to stay up late putting together a new copy of the Quibbler, so the news could get out faster. He thinks that the new department – the Post-War Remedial Unit, you know the one – are really just trying to sweep the War under the rug as soon as possible. They don’t care about actually establishing good Muggle-Wizard relations at all.”

Ginny scowled. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

As they neared the entrance, Ginny caught a glimpse of another Ministry employee directing the students through the doors. Neville squinted at the woman, who appeared to be swiping a small cloth against everyone’s arm, and filing it away in a box after each student had passed through.

“This can’t be good,” Luna said under her breath, and Neville murmured his agreement. Before long, they had been pushed up closer, their trio separated by the growing crowds, and the woman was reaching to grab Ginny’s arm.

“Name?” the woman asked, picking up another cloth.

“Ginny Weasley,” She pulled her arm back before the white fabric could touch her skin. “What’s this for, exactly?”

The Ministry employee sighed. “Skin samples help with the matching for the Bonds, so we know that no issues will arise between those Bonded.”

“But you can’t know that,” Ginny crossed her arms. “No compatibility test can possibly analyze that. If you’d just-”

“I’m sure those who have done the research on these tests have accounted for everything,” the woman told her, a tad impatiently. “You can discuss this with them, if you’d like. Enter through the door on the left.”

And before Ginny knew what was happening, she had brushed the cloth against her arm and was gesturing the next student forward.

Beside her again, Luna sighed. “Matching, they say. Really, this is just the Ministry keeping tabs on us. My father warned me that they might want something of the sort.”

Ginny said nothing, busy thinking about the implications of the skin samples. She didn’t have Hermione’s memory for details, but Potions class had been able to instill in her one thing: any potion made with ingredients from a human body was powerful. Whatever type of compatibility test it was, it would work – but who knew what that would mean for those bonded.

Neville, who had been scanning the area a bit more attentively than the girls, nodded to the other line. “So, that one’s clearly dark-aligned.”

They followed his gaze to the group of students entering through the opposite door. They were a mixture of students who had truly turned Dark – Ginny caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy, his mouth set in a firm line – and students who looked as though they didn’t quite belong in that line. A little aside from the rest, there was an older girl trying to comfort a sobbing boy who couldn’t have been more than twelve. Siblings.

Luna was busy twirling her hair around the tip of her wand, but when she spoke, her voice was low and unhappy. “That girl shouldn’t be there. She stopped someone from calling me a freak in second year. And she’s a half-blood.”

Neville cocked his head. “But then… why…?”

“She’s a Slytherin,” Luna said, simply. “Most people think she’s a pure-blood, but she’s not. The Ministry must be going by assumptions based on their houses.”

There was no time to discuss this further. They had made it far enough into the room to find a bench with room to seat the three of them, and before long others were beside them, squeezing into the empty space. Below them, a man that Ginny didn’t recognize stepped onto the stage. When he spoke, his voice was magnified and boomed out in all directions.

“On behalf of the Post-War Remedial Unit, I would like to thank you all for attending today.” He paused, nodding to a couple at the students sitting near him. “In the aftermath of so much pain and suffering that arose during the events of the Second Wizarding World, the Ministry wants to make it clear that we want to inspire change in everyone. There can no longer be a division between us. And what better way to achieve that than by creating bonds to bridge this gap?”

There was a lukewarm murmuring, a small burst of applause from a group to their left. In front of Ginny, a boy she recognized as Zacharias Smith scoffed.

“So,” the speaker continued, “We will first set some guidelines. First, anyone suspected of dangerous activity will immediately be exempt from the Bonding. There will be opportunities at any time to report any misuse of the Bond to a Ministry employee. We intend this to be a safe and friendly way to get to know another person.”

This time, it was Ginny who felt like scoffing. “Yeah, because unwanted Bonds between people who hated each other a couple months ago just screams friendly.”

Luna’s mouth curled up in a smile, clearly agreeing, but she shushed Ginny anyways.

“You will be assigned your partner within a few moments.”

This was a surprise. It seemed that nobody had expected that news so suddenly: everywhere Ginny looked, friends were exchanging frowns and grimaces. Luna gripped both Ginny and Neville’s hands.

The speaker cleared his throat, just loud enough to be heard clearly over the low din. “When I call the pairs down, you will be escorted to a separate room to finalize the bond in privacy. If you have any concerns about the person you have been paired with, that would be the time to voice them. Depending on the results of the compatibility test, there is a chance you will not be assigned a partner, but we ask for your patience for the duration of this assembly even if you are not Bonded.”

Ginny inhaled, looking down and picking at a bit of dirt beneath her fingernail.

“First, we have…” the man seemed to be reading the air in front of him, invisible but to him. “Hannah Abbott and Tracy Davis.”

Neville leaned forward in his chair, watching the two girls nod at each other and walk towards the door they were directed to. “Tracy’s okay, right?”

Ginny shrugged.

Time seemed to drag on, every moment agonizing. Every time the man began to announce a new pair, everyone’s attention sparked and they waited with bated breath, wondering if their name would follow. Gaps grew in the rows and students were called, the room emptying out slowly but surely.

“… And Ginny Weasley,” the speaker’s voice announced, and Ginny’s breath caught in her throat.

She stood, letting go of Luna’s hand weakly and making her way to the stairs. She hadn’t even caught the name.

Contrary to what she might have expected, nobody seemed to be staring at her. They were all too worried about their own fate to be invested in Ginny’s, presumably. Wherever she looked, people seemed to be preoccupied with bouncing their leg or tapping their fingers. A group of young girls had formed a line in one of the rows and were braiding each other’s hair, but Ginny could tell that a couple of their hands were shaking slightly. It wasn’t an entirely dismal sight, however. Hovering just behind the nervous atmosphere was a shimmering sense of excitement. No matter who they were bonded with, this would change so many facets of their lives in only an instant.

At the very least, Ginny told herself, looking away from the young girls, the lack of stares meant that she wasn’t going to be bonded with a complete tosser. If the name of some bully like Malfoy or Parkinson had been called, there was sure to be some kind of reaction from the audience, instead of pure disinterest.

Mollified by this conclusion, Ginny raised her eyes to scan further, looking for whoever she had been matched with. At first, she saw no one – the overwhelming sea of faces drowned out any individual person or movement. Then, a couple rows away, Ginny found her.

She had blonde hair, braided neatly and curling at the tips. She didn’t wear the dark, slim robes that so many of the pure-bloods favoured – instead, she wore light pants and what looked like a peacoat over a thin grey t-shirt. It reeked of money. Not the same kind that the Malfoys threw around, maybe, but it was clear enough that this girl could afford to pick out whatever she wanted at a store without having to check the price.

Irrationally, Ginny was suddenly glad that she hadn’t put any real effort into her appearance that morning. She had grabbed a pair of overalls from the floor and realized too late that they were stained with some yellow substance on the front. The design on her t-shirt had started to break apart and flake off, probably from too many cycles through the wash. It was messy but it felt like her, and she had stopped being ashamed of that a long time ago.

Just because this girl looked like she had stepped out of a magazine didn’t mean that Ginny had to.

Ginny was the last to make it to the door. Her match held it open for her, and Ginny met her eyes – bright blue, like something out of a poem. The girl’s mouth flickered into a smile and then fell back into stillness so quickly that Ginny barely caught it.

The door fell shut.

A man holding a warped-looking wand cleared his throat, and they both turned to look at him in unison. “Astoria Greengrass and Ginny Weasley?”

Beside her, the girl nodded. Ginny peered over at her. Astoria.

If she thought back, she could place Astoria. She had never known her by name, but descriptors were slowly coming to her. A Greengrass: Daphne’s sister, only a year younger than Ginny. She had made friends with one of the Durmstrang students back in third year – Ginny thought that she remembered them embracing at the end of the year.

“First of all, do either of you have any complaints? Are there any arguments you’ve had in the past?”

“No,” Ginny answered. Her voice sounded rusty. A couple steps away, Astoria murmured her agreement.

The Ministry official nodded and ticked something off a piece of parchment. As he opened up his mouth to ask another question, Astoria cut in. Ginny looked over at her, startled.

“What exactly does this bond entail?”

Blinking, Ginny felt her head fall to one side. During all this time, she hadn’t heard that question addressed, and now it seemed ridiculous that it hadn’t been. The man nodded, as though he had been expecting it.

“Not much. It really does depend on the people involved – anyone who finds themselves being extremely guarded with their emotions typically don’t form strong Bonds. This particular one will allow for emotions to be shared, on a small level.” He gestured between them. “For example, if one of you feels sad or lonely, the other will feel the same on a smaller scale. The Ministry feels that this will allow for empathy between those Bonded.”

“That’s it?” Ginny asked, knowing that her tone was coloured with surprise.

The man shrugged. “That’s what the original Bond will do. It can grow from there, but that will only happen in special cases.”

Ginny watched Astoria work this through, sucking in her cheeks and finally shrugging. She caught Ginny’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. Ginny almost smiled at the expression – it was sweet, somehow. Instead, she nodded at the Ministry official.

“I think we’re ready.”

The procedure was quick, professional. It wasn’t as intimate as Ginny would have expected, the act of being bonded: they were told to clasp hands, and Ginny was instantly reminded of an Unbreakable Vow when the man touched his wand to their joined hands. He murmured something, a spell, which Ginny couldn’t quite make out. When a thin whip of a smoke-like substance poured out of his wand and seemed to soak into their skin, he nodded, clearly satisfied with his work. Setting his wand down on the desk, he asked them in turn if they were prepared to handle the effects of the bond.

“Yes,” Ginny told him, breathing in. This was it.

“And you?” He looked to Astoria. “You’re prepared to handle this?”

“I am,” Astoria said, and Ginny was suddenly struck by the similarities to a wedding ceremony. She resisted the urge to laugh, but wasn’t quite able to stop her mouth from quirking up into a fleeting grin. When she looked at Astoria, she appeared to have thought the same - there was a faint blush splashed across her cheeks. Ginny winked and was rewarded with a short giggle, the blush darkening into a deep red.

She was cute.

Ginny cleared her throat and looked back to the man with as polite a smile as she could muster. He seemed to be oblivious to the amusement that the two girls had shared a moment ago, and had picked up his wand again and was casting the finishing touches.

And then… it was done.

Ginny didn’t need the man to tell her this. It was just there – something thrumming in the back of her skull, a faint swirling of emotions that did not belong to her, impossible to ignore. She tried to pick out a couple of the feelings, to grasp hold of them and examine them, but they were as slippery and unnameable as her own. When she looked at Astoria, her eyebrows had pulled together and she was chewing on her lip, apparently acclimatizing to this new development.

They were ushered out of the room almost immediately.

“Let us know if anything concerning develops,” he chirped brightly, opening the door for them. “We recommend spending time together to strengthen the bond and create a friendship. The bond can’t do everything for you, of course. At the very least, it would be best to write to each other to get to know one another.”

And with a quick ‘Good luck!’ he was gone, the metal door slamming shut behind them. They were left in a deserted Ministry corridor, the shiny walls distorting their reflections. It felt cold. With a shiver, Ginny stuck her hands into the pockets of her overalls and looked to Astoria.

Astoria seemed to still be recovering from the change, but she met Ginny’s eyes with a weak grin. “So, I’ll write you?”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Please. I can feel what you feel, you know.”

Astoria, Ginny could tell, was fighting panic. It was too much of a change to get used to at once, and Ginny wasn’t going to just leave her to figure it out on her own.

“So, how I see it,” Ginny mused, “Either you go home alone until you feel better,” – a flash of objection from Astoria – “Or we go out to get something to eat.”

“That sounds great,” Astoria told her, and from the Bond, Ginny could tell that she wasn’t lying.

“Fantastic,” Ginny announced, gesturing down the hall. “Shall we?”

Ginny led the way out of the Ministry easily, navigating the both of them through the maze-like building and bringing them out onto the streets of muggle London. Not far from the exit was a coffeeshop that Ginny had visited the last time she had spent the day in London. It had held a nice kind of atmosphere, with its clean, wooden tables, high roof, and the large potted plants scattered between tables to give the illusion of privacy.

Also, she wanted to see what Astoria’s reaction to the muggles would be. The Greengrasses weren’t particularly known for strong anti-muggle views, but they were still purebloods. Combine that with the Slytherin house and, well…

“You’re… apprehensive,” Astoria said slowly, with the tone of somebody learning to identify a new flavour in a recipe. They had reached the shop, and Astoria was squinting at the chalk-board menu hanging near the door. “Do you think that I’m going to throw a fit? Hex every muggle I see?”

“No!” Ginny exclaimed, embarrassed. It wasn’t a lie – she didn’t know what she was expecting. “It’s just… you were in the dark-aligned side back at the Ministry so there must be some reason.”

Astoria snorted. “Please. They put every Slytherin in that category the instant they thought this whole thing up. Everyone in that building is a Hogwarts graduate – they know the stereotypes. You can’t tell me that they’re not biased.”

Ginny couldn’t.

“I can promise you – I don’t hate muggles, and I couldn’t care less about blood purity.”

With that, Astoria stepped over the threshold of the café, apparently approving the shop. Ginny, at a loss but still feeling pleasantly surprised, followed her inside.

For all Astoria’s professed acceptance of muggles, it was clear that she hadn’t had much experience with muggle drinks. There was no butterbeer or pumpkin juice on the menu, nothing that one would have found in a wizarding shop. After a couple minutes of consideration, she ordered a frappuccino, stumbling slightly over the pronunciation. Ginny smiled to herself and, when asked, ordered a chai latte.

They sat in a comfortable silence while the drinks were being prepared, each knowing from the bond that the other was content to just sit across from each other. Ginny couldn’t help but stare at Astoria, realizing too late that she wasn’t being subtle in the slightest. Finally, Astoria shook her head with a smile, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“You seem to be doing better,” Ginny observed. It was true – her initial panic seemed to have alleviated, a happier expression returning to her face. But it hadn’t been why Ginny was staring.

“It’s hard to be worried when I can feel your thoughts in my head – Merlin, you’re as cool as a cucumber.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, accepting her drink from the waitress who appeared. “Sure.”

“Maybe the point of the bond,” Astoria said thoughtfully, stirring her drink absently with the straw. “We’re supposed to balance each other out.”

Leaning back in her chair so that it balanced on just two legs, Ginny shrugged. “Maybe. But there’s got to be more to it than that. Like… Quidditch?”

Astoria frowned. “What?”

“Do you like Quidditch?”

“No,” Astoria said, before laughing. “Sorry. I mean… I don’t mind it?”

Ginny waved her off. “No, no, you don’t like it. That’s fine, we can’t all be Quidditch players.” She winked. “Your turn.”

Astoria thought for a moment, sipping her drink. “I like Charms class.”

Ginny pursed her lips. “I was always a Defence kind of girl.”

“Figures,” Astoria nodded. She took a moment to shed her coat, draping it easily over the back of her chair before turning back to face Ginny, both elbows resting on the table. “You and Potter, right? You’ve got that area covered.”

There were crumbs scattered across the table, from whoever had sat there previously. Ginny squinted at them, brushing them slowly to the floor instead of meeting Astoria’s gaze. Without warning, she picked up on a change in Astoria’s emotions – shifting until she settled on something like understanding.

“Oh,” she said, softly. “Sorry, I didn’t – I thought –”

Ginny frowned, and then realized. “Wha – oh. Right. No we’re… not together.”

She looked up to find Astoria’s eyes boring into her. Before she knew what was happening, Astoria’s hand had found its way across the table to grip Ginny’s, the touch obviously intending to be comforting. Ginny’s mind went blank, apparently only able to process the feeling of Astoria’s skin against hers. If Astoria was paying any attention to the bond, anything at all, who knew what she was picking up on.

Not a good time to develop a crush, Ginny, she reprimanded herself quickly, reasonable thought slowly slugging back to life inside her skull. Not a good time at all.

Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull her hand away from Astoria. Astoria, who was still looking at her with a sympathetic sort of concern.

“I… don’t really mind.” Ginny said, and the moment she said it out loud, she knew it was the truth. “We’ve grown up a little, now. Chasing something from the past never really works, anyways. It’ll never be quite the same as you remember it.”

Astoria considered this. “As long as you’re okay.”

Ginny laughed. “Are you seriously this concerned about my well-being?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ginny didn’t know how to respond to that. She settled with a small grin, hoping that it conveyed her appreciation. “I can promise you, I’m fine.”

Astoria seemed to accept that, if the withdrawal of her hand was any clue. Ginny instantly wondered whether she could have milked it a little longer. “Well, then I suppose all you really need to worry about is the press. I’m sure they won’t let this just slide by.”

“No,” Ginny agreed, reaching for her drink, “That they won’t.”

The silence thickened between them again for a moment, before Astoria clasped her hands together and looked very seriously at Ginny. “So what is your opinion of Celestina Warbeck?”

She returned home an hour later with a grin and Astoria’s address, knowing that she’d have to borrow Pigwidgeon or Errol to send a letter to Astoria later that evening. She hadn’t anticipated to genuinely like her partner this quickly, but here she was. Although Ginny didn’t have much of an opinion of Celestina Warbeck, it had been amusing to learn that Astoria clearly adored the singer. She even went so far as to sing a couple bars of ‘You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me’ right there in the café, despite the muggles’ curious stares. From there, any awkwardness had been lost immediately.

Ginny was so wrapped up in replaying moments from their day that she almost didn’t notice the complete chaos in the Burrow when she arrived.

Everyone was crowded into the living room, perched on armchairs and sitting cross-legged on the floor. Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, both her parents – even George and Percy had showed up. Their arms were flying and voices were tumbling over each other as everyone tried to get their opinion heard.

Luna was the first one to notice that Ginny was back.

“What’s this about?” Ginny whispered to her, making her way over to her friend. She wondered whether she had stayed too long at the café with Astoria.

Luna was braiding a long strand of her hair. “After you got bonded with Astoria – how did that go, by the way? – the whole ceremony continued for another half an hour. Not all of us got bonded, but Neville got some second-year Slytherin and Ron got a younger girl and Harry –”

Ginny finally was able to make out what Ron was crowing about in the corner.

“No.” She covered her mouth, not knowing whether she was amused or concerned.

Luna nodded solemnly. “Draco Malfoy. Nobody has seen him since they were called down to the stage.”

“He will have turned the bond down, of course,” Percy was saying, clearly trying to stay reasonable. “When they’re asked if either of them have concerns, one of them will have spoken up.”

Mrs. Weasley had bit her lip, hard. “But… if he hasn’t come home yet…”

Hermione stared at the floor in front of her, her finger tapping against her knee nervously. “Well, we know that Malfoy won’t do anything. He’s not an idiot, he’ll know that doing anything to Harry Potter would sentence him to Azkaban, especially since the war is just barely over.”

Ron nodded, looking slightly reassured. “She’s right. And we can trust Harry, he knows what he’s doing.”

Mrs. Weasley sighed. “But if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll let the Ministry know what we think,” George told their mum, rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll turn up in an hour or so, ranting about Malfoy. Depending on how it went, you may want to be prepared to fix up a black eye or two.”

She scoffed, smoothing down her apron. “As if I couldn’t do that in my sleep, what with you boys running around all the time.” She scanned the room, and her eyes caught on Ginny with a tired-looking smile.

The others, too, finally noticed her return, and she found herself bombarded with questions about Astoria. She answered them as honestly as she could, explaining that Astoria seemed to be, against all odds, a genuinely kind person. She told them about the coffeeshop, about Astoria stuttering over the name of the coffee, about the way that Ginny found herself at ease in her presence.

Luna’s gaze seemed to be a little more perceptive than the rest, and she was looking at Ginny with a mixture of curiosity and sly playfulness. Ginny avoided her gaze, trying not to imagine what conclusion Luna had come to.

The rest were happy to accept Ginny’s simple explanation, and she was describing the ceremony when a small noise from the kitchen broke her off. Apparently, she was the only one to hear it, because she was the only one who was looking up when Harry crept around the corner, failing to look inconspicuous.

“Hey, Harry,” she said as casually as she could, enjoying the various expressions of surprise and relief that flashed amongst the people before her. Harry shot her a betrayed look.

Instantly, people were scrambling to their feet to crowd around him, asking questions and checking him for bruises. Luna took advantage of the commotion to lean closer to Ginny, her dirty blonde hair falling into her face.

“You seem quite taken with Astoria,” she commented, as knowing as ever.

Ginny shrugged, fighting to keep a straight face. She knew what Luna was insinuating, but wasn’t sure that she was ready to acknowledge it so quickly. “I like her.”

“I can tell,” Luna said softly. She scratched at a mosquito bite on her arm. “So what’s she feeling right now?”

Ginny paused, trying to focus on the connection between her and Astoria.

“Relaxed.” She answered, finally. “Happy.”

Luna grinned. “That’s a good start.”

She didn’t elaborate, and before Ginny could ask her what she meant by that, they were startled by a shout from the direction of the others. One look at Harry’s face, sheepish and apprehensive, told Ginny everything she needed to know.

“You got bonded with Malfoy?” Ron asked him, incredulously, and Harry coughed, reddening.

“I didn’t mean to,” he started, and various groans broke out amongst them. “It’s just… they asked if we had any concerns and Malfoy looked at me like it was a challenge and I…”

Hermione shook her head, finishing for him. “You just let the ceremony continue?”

Harry nodded, looking distraught.

George tapped Harry’s temple. He was grinning, apparently able to find humour in the situation. “So what is it like, having a feed of Malfoy’s thoughts every moment? Is it dark? Angsty?”

Hermione ignored him. “And Malfoy did the same?”

Harry shrugged. Ron groaned, punching his friendly lightly on the shoulder.

“That’s rough.”

Harry’s face twisted quickly, looking neither angry nor particularly happy. It was a picture of pure bafflement. Ginny found herself wondering what Malfoy was feeling at the moment. Suppressing a smile, she crept away from the crowds and made her way up to her bedroom, knowing that she’d be followed soon enough by Luna and Neville.

When she had mounted the flights of stairs and reached her room, she was met by a faint tapping noise coming from the far side of her room. She made her way over, frowning slightly. When she made it to the window, she was met with a clear view of her backyard and the distant fields surrounding the burrow. The sight, while slightly overgrown, was a beautiful one, and the sight of it lifted her spirits slightly.

The tapping started up again, accompanied by a small blur of white motion to Ginny’s left. She turned to find an owl hurling its beak determinedly at the window, clearly intent on grabbing Ginny’s attention. With a chuckle, she began undoing the latches on the window to let the animal in.

The moment she had opened the window a crack, the owl darted through and landed neatly on her desk, its feathers only slightly ruffled. It fixed Ginny with a cool look.

Shaking her head, Ginny unattached the letter from the owl’s leg and watched as it took off again. When it was nothing more than a tiny speck in the distance, she peeled back the flap of the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of parchment.

Dear Ginny, she read, the words slanted slightly from the sender’s penmanship. Ginny sank down on her bed as she continued reading. She found herself smiling wider and wider once she realized who it was from, and pressed her hand against the corner of her mouth to try and stop the contented smile that had begun to split across her face.

Astoria must have sent it the second she got home. The thought made Ginny smile.

The next day, while Mrs. Weasley was folding laundry with Ginny beside her, she fixed her daughter with a determined look and announced that she wanted Astoria to visit. Ginny’s heart leapt at the thought quickly, and she glanced at her mum.

“Are you sure?” Every time that they invited someone over to their place, Molly turned the Burrow upside down in a frantic attempt to clean it up. This only doubled when it was a pureblood family. They were all too aware of the disdain that their name garnered, and Molly, especially, hated the fact that they were seen as messy and wild. Sure, when all her brothers were around, Ginny’s family could get a bit rambunctious and borderline uncouth, but Molly put every effort into making sure that her house was clean. It could be messy at times, but there was never a speck of dust or dirt to be found.

“Of course I’m sure,” Mrs. Weasley said firmly. She placed a folded towel on a pile and reached out to squeeze Ginny’s hand. “She’s part of your life now. That’s important to all of us.”

Touched, Ginny managed a nod and looked down at the t-shirt she had been busy folding, feeling happiness soak through her chest. Almost in response, she felt Astoria’s mood lift sleepily. Ginny glanced at the clock – it hadn’t even struck nine yet. There was a good chance she really was still sleeping.

“I’ll send an owl as soon as we’re done here,” Ginny assured her mum. Mrs. Weasley accepted this and moved on to relaying a story Charlie had written in his last letter, happily chattering away while Ginny listened. When she finally broke off, it was to squint at Ginny, who was humming as she worked.

“Is that Celestina Warbeck?”

Ginny stopped abruptly, embarrassed, but it was too late – her mom had recognized the tune.

“Oh, this is wonderful, Ginny!” She dropped the last piece of laundry on the floor and lowered her voice. “You know, money is tight, but if you really wanted… I’m sure that we could scrounge up enough to go to a concert…”

Ginny murmured something noncommittal with a small smile, not knowing how to explain that it wasn’t really the song that she liked – it was the memory of Astoria singing in that coffee shop, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glinting in the mid-afternoon light.

Astoria arrived mid-afternoon, looking only slightly out of place in the Burrow. She lucked out, really – most of the Weasleys were away or working a job, so it was a lot less overwhelming than it could have been. As it was, Astoria only had to suffer introductions to Mrs. Weasley and Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione was the only one who recognized Astoria from school.

“I don’t know how you remember everyone from school, Hermione,” Ron said, as Hermione complimented Astoria on getting top of her class in Charms a year ago. “A Slytherin, too!”

Ginny scrunched up her nose slightly at the last statement, but when she checked to see how Astoria felt, she was surprised to find that Astoria was unperturbed. She’s used to it, Ginny realized, and her heart clenched.

Hermione shrugged. “You just didn’t care to, I suppose. And Harry… well, the only Slytherin he was ever interested in was Malfoy.”

Harry’s head jerked at the name. “What? I’m… I’m not interested in Malfoy!”

Hermione sighed. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. But you have to admit, you were a little obsessed.”

Ginny picked up on something flashing through Astoria’s head. Amusement.

“If I remember right…” Astoria mused, “Draco was always a little, well, obsessed with you, too, Harry. My sister was in his year and was always complaining about how he’d never shut up about you. I can see how it’d get exhausting.”

Harry, taken aback, stared at Astoria. His expression was unreadable as he tried to decipher her words, apparently unable to string together a sentence.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, glancing between them. “I guess we know why you two were bonded, now.”

Harry looked away as Hermione continued to interrogate him on how their bond was manifesting itself. Taking advantage of their distraction, Ginny tugged Astoria away from the conversation and waved goodbye to the others as they left the Burrow through the back door.

She showed the way out of their garden, tossing a couple gnomes to a nearby field as they went. “There’s a river nearby, it’s great for wading.” The temperature had been steadily rising recently, a sure sign of the approaching summer, and Ginny didn’t mind the idea of spending the day by water.

Astoria raised a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes as they walked, examining the view. “Do you go swimming there?”

Ginny shrugged, picking her way along the small dirt path that led to the riverside. “It’s not too deep, but we’ve tried once or twice. There’s a muggle pool nearby that we visit when we really want to go swimming.”

When they got closer, Astoria smiled. “I can hear it.”

It was true. The sound of rushing water was audible even from their distance, and Ginny nodded. “Not far now…” She pushed her way through some low-hanging willow branches, holding them aside so that Astoria could pass through. They emerged on the bank of a wide river, the water tumbling over the rocks and frothing as its path dipped and curved.

Ginny managed to spot the smile that bloomed quickly across Astoria’s face. She approached the edge of the water cautiously, tugging off her shoes and dipping her feet in the water. Ginny joined her.

“When I was little,” Ginny said, working on untying a knot in her shoelace, “We used to have competitions to see who could make it the furthest across the river.” Finished with her shoe, Ginny hopped bare-footed on to the nearest rock. And then the next.

Astoria laughed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m winning,” Ginny singsonged back. She beckoned Astoria forward. “Come on, it’s not too hard.”

With a sigh, Astoria moved to stand on a small rock nearby and wobbled slightly. Ginny heard her breath catch. Astoria shot her a look, but Ginny only winked, already moving to jump to another rock. She knew she had the advantage here: she hadn’t forgotten which rocks were trustworthy and which ones would shift or dislodge under a foot.

“I hate you,” Astoria muttered, still wobbling on her rock, but it was impossible to lie with their bond in place. What Astoria was feeling could not be described as anything remotely close to hate, and knowing that made Ginny’s heart swell slightly in her chest. Buoyed by this knowledge, she jumped to another rock a tad recklessly and had to catch her balance by flinging her arms out to the side.

Astoria snickered. Ginny bent down to splash some of the water towards her. She felt the splitting grin on her face and heard Astoria’s quiet giggles and realized, suddenly, that this was the happiest she had been in years. It was disconcerting, to know that the darkness that had haunted her throughout the wars could recede so soon.

“You laugh, but guess who’s still winning?” Ginny shot back, before the silence stretched too long.

Astoria said something lowly that sounded suspiciously like “Gryffindors”. Ginny watched her size up a rock that was nestled in the riverbed a couple of feet away and make the leap, looking proud of herself.

Ginny was focussing on the next rock in her path when she heard Astoria cough behind her, low in her throat. Ginny turned to look at her but was interrupted by a shriek as Astoria, clearly unbalanced, lost her footing and crashed into the water. Through the connection, Ginny could feel Astoria’s flash of panic and it forced Ginny on her way before she could even stop to thing. Her heart thudded in her chest as she wheeled around and took off, somehow managing to traverse the waters much faster than she had before.

“Are you alright?” Ginny asked breathlessly, reaching out to grab Astoria’s arm. It was cool from the water. When she looked down, she noticed a cut on Astoria’s knee and winced. Blood was swirling in the water as it coursed past, but she seemed not to feel it.

Astoria rubbed her face, biting down on a smile. Her hair was wet and falling into her face. “I can’t believe I fell in. Merlin. Don’t tell your family, I don’t want to go down as the girl who couldn’t even make it a quarter of the way across the river.”

Ginny helped her out of the water, leading the way towards the shore again and trying not to look too distressed. “We’ll call it a tie.”

“That sounds better,” Astoria said, and she shot a dismayed look at her clothes. Not only where they soaked, but mud and grains of sand from the riverbed had managed to stick to it as well. She tried to wring out the bottom of her skirt, but to no avail.

Ginny winced. “Mum will want to wash that for you.”

Astoria accepted this and nodded towards the Burrow. They set off together on the path and it wasn’t long before they had made it back inside. True to Ginny’s prediction, Mrs. Weasley instantly began fussing over them, admonishing Ginny for coaxing Astoria into leaving the shore. She ordered Ginny to find a fresh set of clothes to lend to Astoria, and Ginny set off. She took the stairs two at a time but found herself stumped when she examined the contents of her closet.

Finally settling on a light sweater and a pair of jeans that had only begun to rip at the knee, Ginny tossed the clothing over her arm and ran back down to meet them. Mrs. Weasley had already dug out a salve from one of the cupboards and had spread it on the cut on Astoria’s knee. Astoria was perched on the table, looking only mildly uncomfortable and examining the wound idly.

Ginny walked towards her, stopping when she was close enough to touch Astoria and dropping the clothes on her lap. Astoria glanced up to catch Ginny’s eye and Ginny felt time still around her, freezing her in her tracks and tying her tongue in knots. She wondered what it’d be like to reach out and slip her hand around Astoria’s waist, to step close enough to nudge her way between Astoria’s legs and lean in closer, Astoria’s face tipping up to meet hers --

“Thanks,” Astoria murmured, and the spell was broken. Ginny nodded and stepped back, feeling movement return to her. Astoria hopped off the table and made her way to the next room to change out of her wet clothes, and Ginny was grateful for it, because it meant that Astoria didn’t have time to catch Ginny’s blush.

Mrs. Weasley would, though, if Ginny wasn’t careful, so Ginny nodded to the drops of water that had collected on the floor. “I’ll wipe that up.”

By the time she was done, Astoria had emerged once more and Ginny’s cheeks, thankfully, had cooled down. She flashed Astoria a grin as Molly took her wet clothes, and gestured her upstairs.

“Come on. I think I still have some chocolate frogs left upstairs, if Ron hasn’t found them yet.”

Astoria smiled, and that was enough. That was everything.

Still, the sight of Astoria’s blonde hair falling down against the collar of Ginny’s sweater and her fingers curling around the sleeve of the sweater made something inside Ginny glow with contentment. After losing a game of Exploding Snap, mostly due to the fact that she kept getting distracted by Astoria, Ginny suggested they switch to chess.

And so the afternoon passed into evening, without Ginny noticing the hours slide past. When Astoria left, she squeezed Ginny’s hand in goodbye before stepping into the fireplace to Floo back to her home. If any of the other Weasleys noticed the pure elation on Ginny’s face when she took her place at the dinner table, they didn’t say anything. Still, Ginny couldn’t erase it until they began clearing plates off the table.

Dry coughing, lungs heaving and sucking air in, but to no avail. Her body was convulsing, but as much as she tried to gain control of herself, she couldn’t stop herself from shaking.

Beside her, her father was reaching out for her, his hand looking strong and healthy as it wrapped around her frail one. Her mother clearly thought the same. She turned away with her fingers pressed to her mouth, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Mom,” she croaked, lifting her other arm in her mother’s direction, but her body ached at the motion. It was useless, anyways, as one of the Healers had just walked in. Before she could say a word, her mom had followed the Healer out of the room.

Her dad stroked her hair, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She already knew what she’d see: red-rimmed eyes and a downturned mouth, the same expression that he’d been wearing for the last year. She’d grown tired of looking at it, especially since it was only getting worse as time passed.

There were raised voices from the hall, unsilenced by the thin walls of the hospital. She recognized her mother’s tone, anxious and troubled, and tried humming to herself to block out the voices. Her dad, always so perceptive, caught on and sung under his breath to her, one of the lullabies she had adored when she was younger. It seemed out of place here, the warmth of the song amongst the white-washed walls and the sterilized feel of St. Mungos.

Even that wasn’t enough to distract her when her mom stormed back in, gesturing for her father to approach her. He disentangled his hand and crossed the room, leaning in close so that her mother could whisper the news to him.

They tried their best to keep her safe from all the medical jargon and dubious outlooks on her future, but she wasn’t blind. She knew that there was little hope for her. It didn’t help when, at times like these, her parents would return to her with awful fake smiles, telling her about how wonderful life would be when she finally went to Hogwarts.

Hogwarts felt like a distant dream, one that was ridiculously out of reach. Her older sister sent her letters, sometimes, with anecdotes and news from the castle, but she couldn’t imagine ever setting foot in the building. Still, she smiled and nodded and asked about the lake and secret passageways, knowing that it was the only way for her to provide any consolation for her family.

She was going to die. She knew this. She knew it even when her parents returned to her side with matching, encouraging expressions. She knew it even when they assured her that they were doing everything in their power to make sure that she would be healthy again one day. She was going to die, and the last thing she would see would be the cheesy illustrations that danced on the ceiling of the hospital ward.

She closed her eyes and fought back another cough as it welled up inside of her. A couple feet away, her mother emitted a quiet sob.

Ginny woke, gasping and throwing her covers off. She fumbled for a light, hoping that Hermione was a heavy enough sleeper that it wouldn’t bother her.

No such luck. Barely five seconds had passed until Hermione was sitting up on her trundle bed, fixing Ginny with a look that was both tired and worried.

“What is it?”

“Bad dream,” Ginny said shortly. Her hair had fallen out of her bun, and she twisted it up again messily, staring out the window. The moon was almost full, illuminating the dying flowers on her windowsill and casting shadows on to the floor of her room. “Go back to sleep.”

Hermione sighed. “Tell me what it was about.”

Ginny paused. She wasn’t entirely sure what it had been about. On some level, it felt unexplainably important, but she couldn’t quite explain why. She didn’t recognize anything, from the ward of St. Mungos to the parents that had been so distraught at the Healer’s news.

She explained this to Hermione, who looked instantly more awake.

“Ginny,” she said, very quietly, “Can you tell me what Astoria’s feeling right now?”

Ginny blinked. She had assumed that Astoria would be asleep, that her feelings would be subdued and quieted. But when she concentrated on the bond, she knew instantly that Astoria was awake, a turmoil of emotions flooding forward and catching Ginny by surprise.

Hermione took one look at Ginny’s expression and nodded.

“It must be the bond. They’re not supposed to get strong enough so that you can share dreams, but…” she bit her cheek, clearly trying to appraise Ginny, “You and Astoria clearly like each other enough that you’re subconsciously opening up to each other, even in your sleep. I’m sure it’s not what the Ministry intended, and I can’t say where this will go from here, but…”

She shrugged. Ginny ran her fingertip along a wrinkle on her bedsheet while she processed this, knowing it was the truth. Hermione was rarely wrong, and the parents in the dream had looked as though they could be related to Astoria. But this couldn’t be just a dream. It rang with something deeper, and the fact that such raw emotion had accompanied it was disconcerting. She wished she could be next to Astoria at that moment, to help her in whatever way she could.

Hermione seemed to read her thoughts. She scrounged up a piece of parchment and a quill from somewhere near her bed and handed them over.

“Write to her,” she instructed Ginny. And she did, long after Hermione had fallen back asleep and her breathing was the only sound Ginny could hear.

Astoria responded to Ginny’s letter with a single sentence, inviting her over for lunch. Ginny agreed instantly. Even after managing to fall back asleep, she wasn’t able to let go of the worry that had gripped her so tightly. When she finally saw Astoria again, however, Astoria didn’t seem to be nearly as affected as Ginny had been. Her smile as sunny as ever, she invited Ginny in from the fireplace. Across the room, a man looked up from a copy of The Daily Prophet with a smile. Ginny recognized him from the dream as Astoria’s father, but she tried not to let anything show on her face when he introduced himself.

Astoria grabbed a large bag from the counter, nodding to the door. “Shall we go?”

As it turned out, Astoria had packed their lunch into containers, figuring that it’d be better to eat outside and enjoy the sun that had begun to peek out from behind the clouds. Ginny, of course, had no objections to this and followed her lead happily.

As soon as they stepped over the threshold of Astoria’s house, the street caught Ginny’s attention. It wasn’t much like what pure-bloods tended to prefer. Her house was in the middle of a small, cramped street, nothing like the open manor lawns that the Malfoys kept or the high-end modern quarters that the Parkinsons kept. Another glance down the street was enough to get a better view of the inhabitants: small children wheeling bicycles around and racing down the street and old women watering potted flowers on their doorstep. Muggles.

There were a couple other wizarding families, Ginny guessed – one garden was flourishing in a way that simply couldn’t be natural, and she thought she could see a Nimbus 2001 leaning up against a wall two doors down – but for the most part, it was a purely non-magical village. The Malfoys, she thought, would have abhorred the very sight of it.

Astoria, however, was clearly used to it. She led the way to the left, pausing to nod at a couple neighbours or compliment a little girl on her dress, but other than that she paid little attention to the muggles. Astoria told Ginny stories as they passed different houses, anecdotes from when she was younger.

“My sister and I,” she mentioned, as they passed a red brick house with an overflowing garden, “Used to go around the back and stick our arms through the fence to pick the raspberries that woman grows.”

Ginny gasped, nudging her shoulder. “Stealing from poor innocent muggles! I knew there had to be something dark in your past.”

Astoria laughed, but her expression did sober slightly. “She caught us once. We thought we were being so sneaky, but it turns out she had seen us running away multiple times.”

“What did she say to you?” Ginny asked, curiously. She turned back to look at the house again, with the vines creeping up the walls and tomato plants nearly falling over with the weight of the fruit. She tried to imagine the woman who lived behind those walls but came up with nothing.

“Nothing,” Astoria admitted. “I ran away the second she started speaking.”

Ginny could imagine it – the terrified look on a younger Astoria’s face, small legs pumping as she sprinted down the street. What a small thing to be scared of. It made Ginny fonder, knowing this piece of Astoria’s past.

“Daphne stayed, though. Turns out that the woman didn’t really mind us eating the berries – she lives alone and couldn’t eat them all anyways. She did start recruiting us after that, to help weed the garden and pick a couple bowls for her so that she could make jam.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“It wasn’t. We still ate more than we saved for her, anyways, so it turned out to be a good system.”

Ginny nodded, and soon enough Astoria was drawing her attention to the next house on the path, entertaining her with some other tale about that. Ginny, content to listen, stared at their shadows as they walked, their two bodies captured in black on the sidewalk. They looked as though they fit together, as though they had known each other for ages and would continue to stay together for years to come. Ginny wished there was some way to encapsulate that realization that they suited each other, in more ways than one. The test that had determined that they’d be a good match was clearly working.

She couldn’t help but be struck by how comfortable this felt, walking next to Astoria and hearing her bring up all kinds of incidents that she’d been part of in the little town. Every once in a while, the back of their hands brushed and Ginny felt goosebumps erupt across her skin quickly at the fleeting touch. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought that she saw the corner of Astoria’s mouth quirk up after the third time this happened, but Ginny couldn’t be sure.

They stopped at the top of the hill, where there was a great open space underneath the shade of a large oak tree. The grass around the tree had been freshly mown and stuck to Ginny’s sneakers when she walked on it.

Astoria dropped their lunch on a worn-looking picnic table, sliding on to the bench. Ginny followed, looking down the way they’d come at the roofs of the houses. She could see a couple children playing on a swing set, their high-pitched giggles drifting up to where the two of them were sitting.

“So,” Astoria said, simply, “You shared my dream last night.”

“I did.” Ginny wondered if she should apologize for it. It felt like a huge violation of privacy, even if it had happened without any conscious thought. But really, what privacy was left between them? The bond made them privy to each other’s thoughts, and this was just another form of that. “What happened?”

“I was sick.” She handed Ginny a sandwich, wrapped on plastic. Her gaze was distant as she pulled back the wrappings on her own. “They thought I wouldn’t make it past the age of 10, let alone go to Hogwarts.”

“What was it? The sickness?” Ginny asked in a whisper. She couldn’t eat now, not while Astoria was telling her this.

A dry smile. “They didn’t know. Still don’t. But I seemed to get better, somehow, and when they determined it wasn’t contagious I was permitted to go to Hogwarts. Even then, I was always kept under watch by the teachers. Daphne barely let me out of her sight in the first few years.”

Ginny’s fingernails had dug into the flesh of her palm. She shook out her hand, knowing that Astoria wouldn’t want to be coddled – still, she couldn’t help feeling concerned for her. “So, if they never figured out what it was …”

Astoria caught on quickly: it was probably something that was constantly on her mind.

“There’s a chance it’ll come back. I have to go to St. Mungo’s regularly so they can check on me, but…” She shrugged. “It’s better than being dead.”

The last sentenced was spoken so casually that Ginny didn’t register the gloomy words at first. When she did, she pressed her lips together and reached out to squeeze Astoria’s hand. Astoria ducked her head at the touch and glanced over at her, a gentle sort of surprise playing over her face.

“Thanks. For telling me,” Ginny said, hoping it was the right thing to say. “I would have worried otherwise.”

“Of course.” Astoria exhaled, her shoulders relaxing.

Sensing that the moment was over, Ginny pulled her hand back while she still had the willpower. If she had a choice, she knew, she’d never let go. Before she became too disappointed at the loss of contact, she took a bite of her sandwich and chewed, turning in her seat to peer up at the tree above them.

“Have you ever tried climbing that?”

Astoria pointed a finger at her until she got Ginny’s attention, and then shook her head.

“I’m beginning to think all the stereotypes about Gryffindors being reckless are true, honestly.”

Ginny laughed. “Hey! I’ll have you know that this is perfectly safe. I promise, this is probably one of the least reckless things you’ll ever see me do.”

Astoria frowned. “Did you…”

Ginny noticed it at the same time. Something had been off about that last exchange – too late, Ginny realized that Astoria hadn’t spoken out loud at all. She clasped her hand over her mouth.

“Is that… the bond?” Ginny asked, thinking back to what Hermione had said the night before. She relayed Hermione’s thoughts about the bond strengthening to Astoria, who considered it as she talked.

“It must be,” Astoria agreed, and she cocked her head for a moment. “I can’t hear anything you’re thinking, though.”

“Maybe I have to concentrate,” Ginny suggested, and tried her best to convey ‘Hello’ to Astoria. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to be doing, but it seemed to work, because Astoria’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands.

“Well, this is unexpected.” Astoria shot back quickly, looking delighted when Ginny nodded to show that she’d received the thought. Her mouth was slightly ajar, which Ginny could relate to – it was a strange experience, sharing thoughts like this. It was nothing like the original bond. At the beginning, they could only get a basic feel for each other’s emotions, but now she could pick up on coherent thoughts and entire sentences, just like that.

Abandoning the tree, Ginny turned her attention back to Astoria. Somehow, the afternoon passed as the sun rose higher and then sank back down towards the horizon. The sharing of thoughts wasn’t quite enough to distract Ginny from what she had learnt earlier about Astoria, and she still felt a pang of concern every time Astoria coughed or looked as though she was about to sneeze. Telling herself that Astoria was better, though, Ginny did her best to ignore it.

The girls paid little attention to the time, too immersed in the new discovery. They talked for what seemed like hours, using both their mouths and the bond’s new development, laughing together in the spring heat. And when it was time for Ginny to say goodbye, it was with the comfort that she could always contact Astoria in a split-second if necessary.

A couple days later, Ginny stepped over the hearth of Astoria’s fireplace once more, already looking up to smile at Astoria’s father, who was almost unfailingly sitting in the armchair across the room. She was met, instead, with the sight of another girl about her age. Daphne, her brain supplied, and Ginny worked to keep her grin on her face. They hadn’t met before, but Ginny wanted to make a good impression.

Daphne was clearly Astoria’s sister. Her hair was a couple shades darker than Astoria’s blonde, but they had the same eyes, and Daphne had the same quirk to her smile that Astoria did. Daphne, though, was slightly more intimidating. Ginny knew that she had been fiercely protective of Astoria at school, from what Astoria had told her, and this trait seemed to show even in her body language.

Her gaze flickered over Ginny appraisingly as Ginny approached, making sure she wasn’t dragging soot into their living room.

Ginny extended a hand. “Hi. I’m Ginny.”

Daphne shook it lightly, not breaking eye contact. Her mouth, done in dark purple lipstick, was pursed slightly as she considered Ginny. “Daphne.”

Ginny shifted on her feet, shoving her hands in her jean pockets. They had been hand-me-downs from one of her brothers, and were only a little too big around the waist. Luna had painted flowers up the right leg, though, which made them one of Ginny’s favourite pieces of clothing.

Not wasting any time, Daphne stood up. “My sister told you about her condition.”

“She did,” Ginny confirmed. She avoided Daphne’s eye, wondering what she would say if Ginny told her that it affected Ginny more than she could say. The last few days, there had been times that she had been slow to fall asleep because her mind kept circling back to Astoria’s disease.

Well. It hadn’t always been about the disease. Ginny was also tormented with memories of Astoria, floating to the surface of her mind every time she closed her eyes or stared off into space. She could be doing anything, really, and would suddenly remember the way that Astoria smiled, or the way her fingers had curled around Ginny’s. And just like that, Ginny was distracted and somehow unable to stop smiling.

Shit. She was doing it again. Coaxing her face back into a neutral expression, she looked back to Daphne, who thankfully appeared not to have noticed. She had inhaled deeply, clasping her hands together.

“I hate to ask,” Daphne said, finally, and she really did sound apologetic. “But… you haven’t noticed anything off about her, recently, have you? Anything that might point to her being unwell?”

Ginny couldn’t breathe. “No. But I don’t know her as well as you.”

Daphne inclined her head at that, looking pensive.

Ginny said, softly, “Have you?”

Daphne’s jaw clenched as she swallowed, and she looked at Ginny consideringly once more. Ginny waited, biting her tongue and praying that Astoria wasn’t picking up on the emotions flitting through her head.

Finally: “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Ginny exhaled at the words, but she knew Daphne was avoiding the truth. “What is it?”

“She’s been… worse, the last couple of days,” Daphne told her, bluntly. “Nothing like it was when she was younger, but she’s always tried to hide the symptoms so that she wouldn’t worry us.”

Ginny bit her lip, trying to think back. When she concentrated, she could remember a few instances where Astoria had sneezed without warning, or been caught by a fit of coughing. At the time, Astoria had laughed it up and Ginny had thought nothing of it.

She looked at Daphne, who looked back at her stoically. “Just… tell me if you notice something, alright? Through the bond, or when you’re with her, anything.”

Ginny was quick to agree. This, at last, made Daphne crack a smile. It was small, but it made Ginny feel better somehow, as though she had won Daphne’s approval.

“She likes you.” Daphne put her hand on Ginny’s shoulder, a light touch, but there was a warning in the gesture. Don’t hurt her, it seemed to say.

“I like her, too.” Ginny responded. I won’t.

She wondered whether Daphne had picked up on the Ginny’s feelings. It seemed impossible that she didn’t – Ginny felt transparent, like every emotion shone right through her and could be seen from miles away. Daphne didn’t say anything, though she did take a moment to squeeze Ginny’s shoulder and look at her with an expression akin to curiosity.

Maybe it was what Daphne had said, but after that conversation Ginny began to notice it more. Astoria was clearly practiced at subduing her symptoms, but now that Ginny knew what to look for, it was impossible not to notice. Not an hour passed that Astoria didn’t cough or make an excuse to go sit down, looking vaguely nauseated. Ginny didn’t mention it to Astoria, but she looked meaningfully at Daphne one afternoon, who seemed to comprehend immediately.

This revelation had no effect on the thriving bond between them, though. Every day, Ginny found herself in Astoria’s company, sending thoughts through the bond when she was unable to see her in person. It was a system that worked for them, and it meant that Astoria was never far from reach.

Nevertheless, nothing compared to the time that Ginny spent in her company. She collected those moments with Astoria, trying to burn every conversation and touch in her memory. She was living in a haze of glowing bliss that not even the threat of sickness could stain.

Luna, ever observant, was the first one to confront Ginny about her feelings.

They were sitting on the steps outside Luna’s house, watching birds circle in the air above them. Luna was carving something into a stick she had found, using a kitchen knife and humming as she worked. Ginny was telling her about how Daphne had approached her the other day and let her know about the sickness, trying to keep herself from sounding too agonized.

“It’s just…” Ginny tore a leaf from a nearby bush and pulled it apart in her hand, shredding it until it resembled confetti. “What if her disease comes back? She doesn’t seem concerned but… I just… I can’t…”

“You can’t lose her.”

Ginny looked over at Luna. “Yeah.”

Her friend blew some of the sawdust off of the wood, examining her work. “Are you going to ask her out?”

Ginny swallowed. “What?”

Luna fixed her with an unimpressed stare, which was fair. Ginny really needed to stop being surprised by her perceptiveness.

Luna returned to her carving, bent over the material in her hands. “You’ve completely enchanted with her. I think you fell for her the day you met her.”

Ginny nudged her, shaking her head even though she knew it was useless. “I did not!”

Luna shrugged, but it was clear that she didn’t believe her. “I noticed something in you when you came back from that coffeeshop with her. Even if you hadn’t fallen for her, you were well on your way down that path.” She looked up. “You’re not denying it now, are you?”

“No,” Ginny admitted, giving in and smiling down at her lap. She felt ridiculous. This was the kind of crush that she hadn’t had since she was small, the kind that left her a blushing mess.

“Good.” Luna, apparently satisfied with her work, turned the stick over in her hand and then shoved it in her pocket. She looked at Ginny. “So, my question stands. Are you going to ask her out?”

Ginny groaned, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. Ginny ignored it, leaning over to rest her head on Luna’s shoulders.

“It’s just…” Ginny smiled involuntarily. “She’s fantastic.”

Luna shifted carefully, patting Ginny’s knee. “Tell me more about her.”

Above them, a bird soared through the sky and cawed loudly, but Luna didn’t even spare it a glance. Usually, she was always scanning the skies and fields for any sign of unusual wildlife or signs, and Ginny knew that it was a testament to how much she cared for Ginny that she had put all her focus on listening.

The chance to talk more about Astoria was too much to pass up. When she began to speak, Ginny found that she couldn’t stop – little pieces of things she loved about Astoria began flowing forward, unstoppable.

She told Luna about way that Astoria was always bugging Ginny to listen to more Celestina Warbeck, humming it under her breath when she was distracted (somehow, Astoria’s affinity for the cheesy music only endeared her more to Ginny). She told Luna about the way that Astoria managed to always find the words to make Ginny laugh, about how Astoria hated Quidditch but had told Ginny that she’d love to see her play it one day. There was also the fact that not an hour passed where Astoria didn’t send a thought or two to Ginny, and the instant Ginny received it, her mood brightened completely.

“And when we talk about little things that happened to us when we were little, she’s figured out a way to send little bursts of memories through the bond,” Ginny said. “I feel like I know her better than anyone. It just feels so intimate with her, you know? The bond is part of it, but she makes me feel… safe. I could tell her anything.”

Ginny was quiet for a while. When she spoke again, her tone had softened.

“Astoria told me about how she was sick when she was younger, but Daphne seems to think it could be coming back.” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed. “I… I don’t know what I would do if I lost her. She almost died last time. I know she’s acting as though nothing is wrong, but now that I’ve noticed I can tell she’s getting worse. Daphne’s going to talk to their parents, but there’s nothing solid yet.”

Ginny inhaled shakily, and Luna wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Then tell her.”

“What?”

“You need to tell her what you feel for her,” Luna elaborated, simply. “Don’t worry if you’re going to lose her or not. If she does get sick again, at least she’ll have you by her side for all of it. If she doesn’t, you’ll have a girlfriend.”

Ginny laughed, thankful for Luna’s oddly reasonable advice. “That’s assuming she says yes.”

“Of course she’ll say yes,” Luna said, shaking her head. “Ginny, she’d be foolish not to. I’m sure you could charm her without even trying, if you haven’t already.”

Ginny said nothing, but she smiled up Luna and hoped that her friend knew how much she appreciated Luna and her unfailingly sincere advice.

That night, Ginny was up late, fiddling with one of the joke toys that George had wanted her to try, when she was struck with the inexplicable knowledge that Astoria needed her. She didn’t know how or why she knew this, but it clearly had something to do with the bond, and all Ginny knew was that something strong and compelling was pulling her towards Astoria.

She sat up straighter, her heart racing, as she began mentally sorting through ways that she could possibly reach Astoria. Something was wrong or unfixed, and Ginny needed to be by Astoria’s side. She couldn’t apparate, but she couldn’t use the Floo network either – there was no way that she could start the fire without her family noticing. She glanced at Hermione sleeping on her floor, trying to map her way across the room in a way that wouldn’t wake her up.

She had nearly figured out a way that might work when she was struck by another sudden pang of urgency, like she needed to get to Astoria right at that moment or she’d explode. Recovering slightly, Ginny gasped and stared out the window, trying to get a read on Astoria’s emotions. They were quieted in a way that told Ginny that she was already asleep, but that didn’t help to calm Ginny at all. Astoria’s thoughts were still soaked in desperation, and Ginny needed to get to her.

The next time that the bond swelled with urgency and called Ginny to Astoria, something flexed in her chest and she closed her eyes without meaning to. A hot burst of light flashed behind her eyelids, and when she blinked them open again, she was sitting in a room she recognized as Astoria’s.

The change was so sudden that Ginny had no time to think about it. Hermione, no doubt, would be intrigued when she relayed the story later, but right now all Ginny could concentrate on was Astoria.

The house was silent, no light to be seen but for the streetlight glowing behind Astoria’s thin curtains. This lent just enough brightness for Ginny to see Astoria asleep, her breathing heavy but untroubled. Suddenly unsure of what to do, Ginny moved closer and nudged Astoria’s shoulder gently. This wasn’t enough to wake her, so Ginny murmured her name.

Finally, Astoria’s eyelashes fluttered and she cracked her eyes open just enough to see Ginny sitting on the edge of her bed. To her credit, she didn’t scream, but she threw her covers off as she jerked awake, scooting away from the figure and blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light.

Ginny winced. “Sorry, I… I just…” She didn’t really know how to explain what had happened, why she was at Astoria’s place so late at night.

“Ginny?” Astoria said incredulously, looking slightly more awake. Her shoulders relaxed fractionally, and she cocked her head to the side. “How…”

“It was the bond,” Ginny said, slowly, scanning Astoria curiously. She clearly wasn’t in any danger, and the sense of urgency had faded slightly, but Ginny was still in the dark. “It felt like you needed me, so it must have transported me to you.”

Impossibly, Astoria blushed. Ginny barely managed to notice it in the dim light as Astoria looked away, wrapping her arms around her upper body and smiling wryly to herself. “Oh! That must have been… um. I think it might have been my dream. You were in it, so maybe the bond just assumed that I needed you?”

She bit her lip, looking at Ginny. Embarrassment was practically rolling off of her in waves, but Ginny was still at a loss for what it all meant.

Ginny reached over to Astoria’s nightstand, fumbling with the lamp until she succeeded in flipping the switch. The room flooded with light, and she caught a better glimpse of Astoria’s face, coloured deep red. She also noticed the thin pajama shirt that Astoria was wearing, how it had been pushed up her stomach during her sleep and was revealing more than a bit of skin. Ginny swallowed and tore her eyes away. Looking at Astoria’s face wasn’t much easier – the flush on her skin just added to her prettiness, and her hair was falling messily down on her shoulders. Ginny imagined what it would be like to run her fingers through it.

“I was worried,” Ginny revealed, slightly self-deprecatingly. It sounded ridiculous when she said it out loud, but Astoria’s expression softened and she reached out to Ginny, finding her hand on the covers.

“Well, thank you anyways,” she said. Her thumb brushed against Ginny’s, and impossibly, she was moving closer. Ginny could feel Astoria’s breath ghosting across her cheek, and her heartbeat thudded in her chest.

This was nothing like she’d experienced before – with Harry, they had both been swept up in consuming emotions, the thrill of winning the Quidditch match, when he’d first kissed her, and there’d been no time to think about it. With Dean, she had kissed him in one of the passageways at Hogwarts, firm and unhesitating, and he’d responded with fervour. There had also been a girl in Ottery St. Catchpole, Ashley, who she’d flirted with every time she’d visit the town until they finally found themselves together after Ashley’s shift and just like that, her lips had found Ginny’s and that was that.

This, though, sparked a burning anticipation inside Ginny’s chest. Her hand reached for Astoria’s waist and she met her eyes.

“Is this…” Ginny asked, not wanting to read anything wrong but wanting this more than anything. Her thoughts, once spoken aloud, faltered. She hoped Astoria knew what she meant to ask, what she meant to say.

“I think,” Astoria replied, looking up at her, “That you’ve spent so much time wrapped up in your own emotions to notice what I’ve been feeling.”

Ginny’s thoughts flew to the bond, in disbelief, and was met with something powerfully strong, pulsating with heat and tenderness. It matched what Ginny was feeling, down to the indescribable fondness and the clear desire. Ginny swallowed, at last understanding.

When Astoria kissed her, it felt she was met with everything she had ever wanted. Astoria’s lips were soft as they moved against hers, and Ginny’s fingers dug into her skin slightly with the sudden desire to stay in this moment forever, to not let Astoria slip out of her grasp for even a moment. She pressed back into the kiss and felt Astoria smile slightly, pulling back to wrap her arms around Ginny’s neck. Something in their bond hummed happily, and Ginny laughed softly.

“I guess the bond knew what it was doing, when it called me here,” she said, and Astoria made a small noise of agreement, pulling her closer once more. Ginny gave in, satisfaction pumping through her veins and curling low in her body.

This was better than anything Ginny could have dreamed, and she sent a silent thank you to every moment that had led to this one.

Dating Astoria turned out to be a minor change outwardly. They had been spending so much of their time with each other anyways that it was hardly a difference. And Ginny had to assume that she’d been utterly transparent in her feelings before, because when she kissed Astoria’s cheek one afternoon while they ate ice cream in the kitchen, nobody so much as blinked at the sign of affection. That is, until Astoria grinned and turned to meet the kiss with another, deeper one. A groan rolled around the room from her friends, and Ron threw his spoon at Ginny.

“I have to put up with you and Hermione all the time!” Ginny shot at him, as the spoon clattered to the floor unimpressively. “No offence, Hermione.”

“None taken,” Hermione grinned. She squeezed Ron’s hand and Ginny pointed at their joined, raising an eyebrow at her brother. He sighed but seemed to understand, rolling his eyes and asking for his spoon back.

Harry, to his credit, seemed to be quite happy for her. He had congratulated the two of them, and though Hermione had watched him carefully for any sign of jealousy, she seemed to have come to the conclusion that he was genuinely happy for Ginny and Astoria. If anything, he seemed to be almost indifferent to the specifics – the only time he’d shown any kind of sign of drastic interest about it was when Hermione had brought up the bond.

“It does make sense,” she had mused, staring between them, “That people bonded would fall for each other. It’s not that the bond is the reason that you’re together, but I’m sure that it fits into things. After all, who knows if you ever would have spoken to each other if you hadn’t been bonded? But here you are, sharing thoughts and emotions like it’s something you’ve always known.”

Ginny shivered at the thought of not knowing Astoria, reaching out to lace her fingers between her girlfriend’s, a reminder that she wasn’t going anywhere. At first, she was too distracted by the touch to notice anything else, but soon enough her attention was drawn to the odd expression that had flown over Harry’s face. He had paused in the middle of scraping half-melted ice cream from the bottom of his bowl, looking suspiciously sheepish.

Astoria’s thoughts rang in her head. “Is it just me, or does he look as though that means something to him, too?”

She wasn’t wrong. Ginny knew Harry, and she knew when Harry was hiding something. Finding herself grateful once more for the bond and their unique form of communication, she sent back a message immediately.

“You think…” She looked over at Astoria, who only raised an eyebrow.

“I think there’s a possibility of something more. After all those years of taunting each other at Hogwarts… who knows?”

Ron, who had been watching the exchange, squinted at them. “You just did it, didn’t you?” He gestured between them, looking awed. “You read her mind! Merlin’s beard, that must make things so easy for you guys.”

Hermione swatted him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing!” Ron protested, his ears reddening. “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to have a direct link to your mind sometimes, then I’d know what you’re really thinking…”

“I’ll have you know that you can be just as puzzling, sometimes!”

Deciding that it was best to simply leave them to their bickering, Ginny pointedly caught Harry’s eye and nodded to the door. “Hey, can you help me with my broomstick? I think the bristles are either torn or a little bent, it’s throwing off the balance.”

It wasn’t as subtle as she would have liked, but it worked: Harry followed her out the door and down the path towards the shed easily. Astoria, Ginny knew, would be able to put up with Ron and Hermione’s antics long enough for Ginny to coax some sort of explanation from Harry. Harry, who at the moment had dug out Ginny’s broomstick and was inspecting it closely, examining the twigs on the tail.

“It looks in adequate shape to me,” he began, standing up. “Maybe I should try it out and see –”

“Are you in love with Draco Malfoy?” Ginny asked, and then winced, realizing that it was probably too blunt to begin with – Luna was clearly rubbing off on her. If Astoria was there, she probably would have rolled her eyes and teased Ginny about it. And then kissed her. She kissed her a lot. Ginny allowed herself a smile at the thought but quickly turned her attention back to Harry, who appeared to be speechless. His mouth opened and closed, and then opened again.

He wet his lips. “Why… how did you…”

Ginny sighed. “Oh, Harry. Do the others know?”

“No,” he said, quickly, and then amended with, “Hermione might suspect, but I’m not sure. She keeps mentioning how great it is that the bond matched you and Astoria, and I think she’s hinting that… back in sixth year…” He shrugged.

“And Malfoy?” Ginny asked, wondering if the bond was helping the two of them work out their problems, too. Probably not. It would take more than just a little help for Harry and Malfoy to sort through all of their many, many problems.

“I’m not sure,” Harry admitted. “It’s not like you and Astoria, our bond hasn’t grown the way yours has. We haven’t shared anything like dreams or actual thoughts. Hermione says that it must have something to do with how we don’t exactly trust each other.”

Ginny nodded. It made sense. It felt like, on some level, she had always been willing to trust Astoria. Harry and Malfoy had been at each other’s throats since their first year, and they wouldn’t be quick to open up to each other. She was almost tempted to knock their heads together – if what Astoria had told her was true, Malfoy was just as infatuated with Harry as he was with him.

Knowing this, it wasn’t too hard for Ginny to say, “Well, you should do something about it.” It sounded eerily close to the advice Luna had given Ginny so many days ago – but hey, Luna had been right, so there was nothing wrong with that.

Harry, on the other hand, paled and shook his head wildly. Ginny laughed.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.” She patted his shoulder getting ready to walk back to the house. “But hey, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I’ve got my own Slytherin to deal with, after all.”

She had almost made it back inside when Harry’s voice stopped her. “Ginny?”

“Yeah?” She turned to look at him. He was staring at the ground in front of him, looking vaguely lost. Ginny didn’t need to share a bond with him to know that he was aching for something that he couldn’t have.

“I’m happy for you.”

Ginny grinned at him. “Thanks.”

In hindsight, Ginny should have seen it coming. Maybe it was too much to hope that she’d finally settle into something good, that she’d finally have someone that she could keep. Maybe things were just too perfect. Or maybe it was just inevitable, something catching up to them that they couldn’t outrun, however much they tried.

Astoria got sick.

Daphne’s worry had clearly not been misplaced. It started out with the little things that Ginny had picked up on, steadily worsening as weeks passed. Sometimes, for no discernable reason, Astoria was clearly too exhausted to leave the house or walk for long distances. Astoria insisted that it was nothing and teased Ginny for being such a worrywart, kissing her to distract her when teasing didn’t work.

Still, Ginny didn’t put too much thought into it. On those days where Astoria couldn’t manage to go very far, they stayed in and played wizard’s chess. Occasionally Astoria was able to convince Ginny to listen to Celestina Warbeck, singing along to her favourite songs despite Ginny’s groans.

It was a routine that worked for them, and Ginny thought nothing of it. That is, until early one morning while she was out practicing routines on her broomstick and was struck by such a powerful burst of pain that she nearly fell off her broom. When she recovered enough to maneuver herself down to the ground and jump off in a rough landing, she sent a flurry of frantic thoughts Astoria’s way.

There was no response.

Ginny knew that Astoria had been awake – not long ago at all, the bond had shifted from a passive, blurry-like rendition of Astoria’s emotions to a much more clear version, which they both knew meant the other was awake. But now – Ginny reached out through the bond and felt nothing. There was only emptiness, heavy and black at the back of her skull.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She dropped everything, running up to her room without even bothering to kick off her shoes. She dimly registered that she was leaving muddy footprints across the floor and stairs, but she couldn’t find it in her to care at the moment. The moment she tore into her room, she ripped a piece of paper from the floor and scribbled out a message to Astoria, whistling for Pigwidgeon as she wrote.

The tiny owl came barreling into her room just as she finished writing, and she glanced over the letter once more. It struck her suddenly that she should address it to Astoria’s family instead. Her chest clenching in on itself, she crossed out Astoria’s name and replaced it with simply ‘Greengrasses’. With that final touch, she sent Pigwidgeon on his way and inhaled deeply in an unsuccessful attempt to steady her breathing.

Not more than a minute had passed before Hermione appeared in the door, looking worried. “Ginny?”

Ginny avoided her eye, at a loss for words. She knew that if she were to begin speaking, her voice would betray her by cracking. Hermione approached her and knelt next to Ginny, her hand reaching out to touch Ginny’s knee lightly.

“Is it…” Hermione swallowed, sounding pained. “Is it Astoria?”

Ginny nodded. She caught sight of the underside of her shoes, at the drying mud caked on the bottom, and tried to distract herself by scratching some of it off. It didn’t work. The mud only gathered beneath her fingernails and she felt no better than she had before.

“What happened?” Hermione asked. Behind her, Ron and Harry had appeared in the doorway, looking equally as worried.

Once Ginny began telling them what had happened, it was difficult to stop. The words spilled out of her quickly. They didn’t say anything about the way her voice wavered and broke off at odd points, but listened as Ginny explained all the circumstances of Astoria’s sickness, how it seemed to be coming back to her all these years later. When she finished with the way their bond had disappeared without warning, all three of them looked appropriately alarmed. 

“Is she sleeping?” Hermione asked, hopefully.

Harry shook his head and answered for her. “No. The bond’s still there when you sleep, it’s just… different.”

Hermione nodded. The look that they were giving Ginny was almost pitying, and she pretended not to see it. Instead, Ginny looked out the window at their backyard and the brightening sun beyond it. It was lucky that she did, otherwise she might not have been so quick to notice the owl approaching on the horizon. Pushing herself to her feet, she opened the window wider and leaned over the edge, watching the bird approach. Even from the distance, she could tell that it was the white owl that belonged to the Greengrasses.

It had grown to like Ginny enough that it didn’t mind when she thrust out her arm to snatch the letter from its leg. It only hooted softly before turning and taking off once more. Ginny didn’t have time to watch its flight. She was already ripping the letter from the wrappings.

The handwriting was not Astoria’s. She knew that the moment she saw the contents, and it drove another spike of worry into her chest. She flattened it on her table, knowing that the other three would be reading over her shoulder, but paying it no mind.

The letter was short and to the point.

Ginny, it read:

Astoria’s illness has come back in full force. We found her collapsed on her bedroom floor this morning and though she is alive, she is in bad condition. She’s currently at a ward in St. Mungos – you’re welcome to visit if you’re able.

Second floor, room 51.

Daphne.

Ginny had just lifted her gaze from the page, feeling sickened, when Hermione nodded to Ron. “Go find the Floo powder.”

At Ginny’s insistence, her friends stayed home, but the made her promise to update them the moment there was any news. She agreed to this quickly, her mind already preoccupied with thoughts of St. Mungos and the green-robed Healers that she’d be sure to encounter the second she arrived.

Ginny had only been there once since her father had been admitted. It was to see Neville’s parents with him, and the atmosphere there had clung uncomfortably to her skin for long after the visit. The idea of going back there yet again was an unwelcome one, but the absence of Astoria’s presence in her head was enough to keep her moving.

It wasn’t difficult to find her way to Astoria’s room once she arrived. The woman managing the front desk pointed her in the right direction and before long Ginny found herself standing in front of the door. She stared at the coppery numbers embossed on the door, telling her that this was, in fact, room 51. She found it in herself to knock, finally, and was admitted by a serious-looking young Healer who nodded at her as she entered.

Astoria had the room to herself, which seemed ominous to Ginny – only serious cases were enough to merit that kind of treatment. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, however. She had only been in the room a couple moments when Astoria’s family noticed her, gesturing her towards them where they were gathered around the cot.

“How is she?” Ginny asked, urgently, straining to see over their shoulders. Astoria’s father smiled wanly at her, shifting so she could get a better view.

“Not well,” Astoria’s mother said, in answer to Ginny’s question. “She’s been unconscious this entire time. You said in your letter the bond has disappeared?”

“Yeah,” Ginny murmured, unable to tear her eyes from Astoria. It was impossible not to notice from this angle how dark the circles beneath her eyes had gotten, how small and frail her limbs looked against the heavy sheets of the hospital cot.

“That would be why, I suppose.” The woman sighed, brushing her hair away from her face and revealing worry-lined eyes.

Daphne barely looked at Ginny, apart from a short nod to acknowledge her arrival. Her hands were clenched on her lap, and Ginny wished she had some words of comfort to help her.

The healer, however, was looking at Ginny interestedly. “Ginny, right? I’m Healer Meylon. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Ginny nodded, following him to the far side of the room as he pulled a quill and notebook from his pocket. They began to write of their own accord when he started speaking, taking jot notes quickly.

“I assume this is one of the bonds assigned by the Ministry a couple months ago, yes?” At Ginny’s nod, he continued. “And you haven’t noticed any fluctuations in the bond during that time?”

Ginny shrugged, rubbing her arms. “It’s gotten stronger, but it hasn’t… it’s never just disappeared like this.”

Healer Meylon bobbed his head, as though this was the answer he had expected. “Can you describe exactly how strong your bond had become, before this incident?”

Ginny told him about how they’d begun to share thoughts, dreams, and the various other additions that had arose in their bond during the last couple months. She had thought nothing of it at the time, but as she spoke his eyebrows seemed to rise higher and higher on his forehead. When she was done, he paused, apparently digesting this new information, while the quill wrote on.

Finally, he grabbed the pad of paper and tucked it back into his pocket. He thanked Ginny, looking distracted, and strode out of the room, presumably to mull the situation over. Left alone, Ginny hesitated. The small family gathered around Astoria’s bedside was almost picturesque, and she didn’t want to invade the scene. Still, the thought of leaving the room made something ugly leap in Ginny’s chest. Without the bond to link her to Astoria, it was difficult to even contemplate leaving her side.

Luckily, she didn’t have much time to waver between the two options. Before she had made up her mind, the Healer had returned, accompanied by two other grim-looking assistants. They waved everyone in the room over, shuffling through a pile of important-looking pages.

The four of them, Ginny and Astoria’s family, waited silently for them to organize their thoughts. Nobody pressed for more information, but the atmosphere was dripping with a sense of urgency: they all wanted to know what was happening, how they could get Astoria back.

Finally, blessedly, Healer Meylon spoke up. “We were discussing what the catalyst could have been for such a major change in Astoria’s health – after nearly six years of good health, this regression was worrying to say the least. It seems to us that this bond may have been a factor.”

Almost involuntarily, Daphne and her parents’ eyes flickered to Ginny. She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. If this had been her fault… she didn’t want to think about it. As if sensing her discomfort, one of the other Healers spoke up.

“Not that we think it’s your fault.” The woman looked kindly at Ginny, who tried to smile back but barely managed a grimace. “If anything, the Ministry should have checked before administering the bond to the students. Once someone is Bonded, they inherently have to lower their defences and open themselves up. It’s part of creating a natural, healthy bond. In Astoria’s case, that meant lowering her immune system as well. With her health, that naturally meant that it would be easier for a recurrence of the old illness.”

Ginny found her voice. “So will it help if we lose the bond?”

“Not exactly.” Healer Meylon eyed her, and then sighed. “In fact, there may be a way to utilise your connection. It isn’t advisable, exactly, but there is a chance that it could restore Astoria’s health, completely. If it works, she could be in even better condition than she was before.”

They all exchanged looks, not daring to hope for something as wonderfully elusive as that.

Astoria’s mother spoke up. “What do you mean? About it not being advisable?”

Healer Meylon met Ginny’s eye, and said, very carefully, “It would mean siphoning energy through the bond. Ginny is in excellent health – if we could use some of that to fight off Astoria’s illness, it could work to rid Astoria of illness completely.”

“And if it goes wrong?”

The Healers shifted uncomfortably. “At best, any issues would mean extreme fatigue for Ginny, and it could only temporarily alleviate Astoria’s symptoms. If it got worse than that, Ginny might never fully recover.”

Ginny took this in. Everything about what they were saying reminded her uncomfortably of her first year at Hogwarts – the way Tom Riddle had sucked the life from her, slowly but surely. She remembered the way that her hands had never really been warm, after he started draining her, how her brain had always taken a moment or two to catch up to conversations and lessons as they droned on. The prospect of going back to that terrified her

Even so, it didn’t take her long to make a decision. “Do it.”

Because this was Astoria she was talking about. Not some mysterious, conniving piece of a faded soul hiding behind musty pages – this was a girl that Ginny had come to trust like no other. This was the girl who sang ridiculously cheesy songs under her breath, who used to steal berries from her neighbour’s yard, who wanted to be a wedding planner one day – and Ginny wanted to be there with her for that. She wanted to be there with Astoria for as long as she was able.

“Ginny –” began one of Astoria’s parents, but Ginny didn’t pay them any mind.

She met the Healer’s eyes, and firmly repeated, “Do it.”

Something in her tone must have told him that she wasn’t going to back down. He motioned to the other two and they were suddenly a whirl of motion, setting up a cot beside Astoria’s and wheeling carts full of potions across the room. Ginny, unsure of what she should be doing to prepare, looked around and found herself being watched by Daphne.

“Thank you,” said Daphne, quietly. Her expression was filled with satisfaction and fierce love, and Ginny knew that she would have done the same for Astoria. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Ginny walked towards Astoria’s cot, shrugging. “I love her.” She knew it was true – she loved Astoria, and at this point she couldn’t imagine not going through with this. If there was even the slightest chance that Astoria could be restored to health completely, Ginny would have taken it.

Astoria’s parents were watching them with mixed expressions.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Her father hedged. He looked both relieved that Ginny had agreed and concerned. His hands had knotted together, the knuckles white.

Ginny smiled. “I’m sure. Just – could you wait to tell my parents?”

It was a lot to ask, especially in a situation like this, but Ginny couldn’t risk them appearing to stop her. This was what she wanted. Thankfully, they seemed to resign themselves to the fact that she wouldn’t allow anything other than that.

“If that’s what you want,” Astoria’s mother said, and Ginny nodded. When the Healers came for her, she followed them to the cot she had been given, and obediently downed the thick potion that they had arranged for her. Instantly, the room faded to black. Her last thought was of Astoria.

She woke an indeterminable time later to a pounding headache and disturbingly bright light shining in her face when she cracked open her eyes. Squeezing them shut again, she clenched her hands into fists and groaned, rolling over to bury her face in the sheets of her bed.

“I’d keep pretending to be asleep if I were you,” a voice sounded in her head. “Your mom is here and she’s not too pleased with you.”

There was no chance of Ginny pretending anything of the sort, not when Astoria’s voice was sounding in her head, sounding wholly amused and healthy. Ginny swung her legs over the side of the cot before she had even managed to get accustomed to the light, and sought out Astoria in the room. She wasn’t hard to find – Ginny had nearly run into her in the process of getting up.

Astoria stood up from the chair she had been sitting in, her hands rising up to catch at Ginny’s elbows when she stumbled. As soon as Ginny had regained her balance, they were moving around her back and suddenly Ginny was wrapped in her arms, Astoria’s chin tucked over Ginny’s shoulder. Ginny buried her face into Astoria’s hair, breathed in the scent of her girlfriend’s shampoo, and something happy and content settled in her bones.

When Astoria pulled back, she couldn’t hide her own satisfaction, though she tried. “Don’t think I’m not mad as well. You shouldn’t have done all that, Ginny, you could have gotten just as sick.”

Ginny dismissed her worries. “It worked, didn’t it?”

It had. Astoria was standing before her, colour glowing on her cheeks and a smile written across every inch of her face. Looking at her, Ginny could almost imagine every moment like this they’d have in the future – every golden smile, every day that they’d have together without ever worrying about something like illness.

Astoria squeezed her hand. “Yeah. It worked.”

And really, it would have been worth it all just for the kiss that Ginny was pulled into a moment later.

Astoria had been right. The tongue-lashing Ginny had received from her mother was truly a new level of fearsome, though it had ended with Mrs. Weasley dissolving into tears.

“Y-you’d think that I’d be used to it, with everyone always going off to do something stupid like this –” she sniffled, wiping quickly at her cheeks. Ginny bit her lip, looking away. “Ron and the others ran off to hunt for those things even though it could have gotten them killed, the joke shop putting up that awful joke about You-Know-Who, everything. But Ginny, after all that, I can’t believe that you’d… you’d go through that risk…”

“I knew that I could help her, Mum. Do you honestly think that I’d just let her go?”

Mrs. Weasley laughed a little through her tears and blew her nose. “No, I would think not. But Ginny – never, ever do that kind of thing again. So help me, I will keep an eye on you every hour of the day if I have to.”

“You won’t.” Ginny swallowed, finally reaching out in a tentative move to touch her mother’s arm. “It’s over now, anyways, we’re both safe. And the Healers say that every sign of her illness is gone forever.”

Mrs. Weasley had caught Ginny’s hand in her own, squeezing it tightly. “I know what they’ve said. And I love Astoria, I really do, but I need you to know that I couldn’t handle it. If anything went wrong… having to lose you, after Fred…”

“Mum.” Ginny breathed, something prickling behind her eyes. She reached out hugged her mother, trying to convey her apology through the gesture as best she could. When her mom reached up to rub her back, though, Ginny knew that everything would be just fine.

Epilogue

In hindsight, the Ministry’s bonding program was viewed with mixed reactions. Ginny still agreed that it had been dangerous from the beginning, a misguided attempt at reconciliation where more tact should have been used.

But there was more to it than that. If not for the program, it was unlikely that she would have ever spoken to Astoria, let alone gotten to know her as well as Ginny did now. Harry and Draco would never had gotten the chance to remedy the years of barbed insults and veiled emotions.

And Astoria would have lived in uncertainty, never knowing whether her illness would return, never knowing if she would live long enough to do all the things she wanted to do. Maybe the bond had opened the door for the sickness to return, but it had also provided a solution. A final cure, something that would never let Astoria go through the same thing again.

So when Ginny looked at her girlfriend – carefree smile, dancing eyes – she couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry at all.