Ginny was floating down the aisle, her long veil trailing behind. Harry smiled as his bride met his gaze. Her eyes, normally fiery, were gentle and, in a way, weak. Harry didn’t worry nor care, for he was too preoccupied with nerves. It was their wedding day.
“I do,” and they were married. Ginny’s veil was gently raised, revealing a soft face and flowing copper hair curled around her rosy cheeks, which Harry took in his hands as he kissed her, sealing his furious love for her. Ronald Weasley was the first to stand and rush to the bride, his sister. However, people soon flooded in and the bride and groom were pushed apart.
Harry Potter awoke from his dream, cursing at himself for not remembering. He had to remember. This memory had been played and replayed in his mind for the key. The clue. The cause. It was something about Ginny that day that was different that he needed to remember.
Harry swung his legs over the bed and went downstairs for coffee. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was 4:32. He looked in the mirror that promptly told him to comb his hair, to which he scowled. He heard a loud, racking cough and concernedly walked halfway upstairs, staring at his bedroom door. His wife had been coughing like that a lot, and it worried him. There was also something else about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on; he only knew that she had been like that since the wedding day. This is why he needed the clue.
Harry started to walk back downstairs, counting his steps, and veering left suddenly, faced the wall. He tapped it twice with his wand, and muttered an incantation. A light brown door with a moon-shaped handle materialized before his eyes, though it was no surprise to him. He slipped through the door and beamed at what he saw.
A little boy, about three years old, with blondish hair and rosy cheeks was sleeping with his hand curled around his ‘blankie’. A gentle snore told Harry that Joshua, his son, was still asleep. His hair was matted with sweat, and his long eyelashes desperately clung together in bunches. Harry sat at the edge of his small bed and rested his hand on the twisted bundle of blankets. Joshua’s hand that was wrapped around the blanket lifted up, and Harry inhaled sharply. But Josh’s hand gently drifted back down, yet instead of resuming its previous position, it settled in his mouth. His Chudley Cannon pajamas clashed with his blue and red blanket, but he would not part with his worn out rag.
Harry tiptoed to the door and quietly closed it behind him. It automatically resumed its appearance of the wall. He swayed back into the kitchen, only to find that his chair had been occupied.
Ginny had heard her husband get up, but she continued breathing deeply, as to not disturb his usual morning wanderings. After he had left, she pulled off the covers and put on her fuzzy deep purple slippers. Then pad… pad … pad she slowly walked across the room to the door and put her ear to the lock. She felt a tickle in her throat and couldn’t restrain herself. She let out a loud cough before throwing her hands over her mouth to hold it in. Too late! She heard footsteps quickly coming up the stairs. Pad pad pad pad she ran back to the bed and threw herself under. The footsteps stopped and she heard the trickle of the door downstairs melting away.
Ginny opened the door and tiptoed downstairs, as to not disturb her husband and son. She sat in the chair that faced the stairway, and she heard Harry crooning to their son. ‘I hope he doesn’t wake him,’ Ginny thought severely. No way was she dealing with a three-year-old at five in the morning. Her head snapped towards the stairs again as she heard the click of the door closing. ‘Please don’t come down here,’ Ginny silently hoped. Wishes, of course, are hardly ever granted. Harry shuffled in.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Harry sincerely asked.
“No,” Ginny lied.
“Good. I heard you cough. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ginny lied again. They usually were honest with each other, but Ginny got defensive and secretive when it came to her illness.
Harry noticed the glow from her eyes was gone. He almost slapped his forehead. THAT’S what was different. Her weak, gentle eyes. He shook his head, lost in thought. ‘It can’t be that. Why would her eyes have anything to do with it?’
“Honey? Are you alright?” Ginny’s voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts.
“Eh? Oh, yeah, just thinking.” Ginny grinned slyly, and countered, “About what?” Harry had to laugh.
“Don’t wake Josh!” Ginny fiercely whispered, though her eyes were dancing, almost back to normal. “He has a long day ahead of him. He always gets so tired at Burrow.
Harry grinned mischievously. “So do I.”
Ginny laughed, however. “Well, I’m going to back to sleep for my remaining 2 ½ hours before we go. Are you coming?” Ginny asked, though hoping he wouldn’t so she could hog the bed.
“No, I think I am going to read Hermione’s medical book she got us for our wedding.” Harry replied. Ginny, however, was far from congratulating herself.
“Going to apply for a job at St. Mungo’s?” she wondered aloud.
“No, just going to bore myself to sleep,” Harry carefully said.
Ginny shrugged and clambered upstairs while Harry flipped through the symptoms index to ‘E ’. “Eyes, eyes, eyes,” Harry scanned the page. He gasped a sigh of relief as his search was unsuccessful. Or so he thought. Before closing the book, he started flipping to ‘F’ for no apparent reason. He turned the page, and right above ‘F’ in small print was ‘Eyes….page 283’
In a mad frenzy Harry turned to page 283 Symptoms. He scanned for ‘Eyes’ and found it. He read: ‘If eyes have turned grey, changed shape, or dulled down, then it could be a case of pregnancy (pg. 201), a dragon bite side- effect (pg. 143), or the rare traconis vaximous (pg. 509).
Harry decided it was definitely pregnancy, but she hadn’t gotten a baby bump or morning sickness. He flipped to page 509. He gasped at what he read:
Traconis Vaximous is a rare disease that has only resulted in death. The only treatment is in the egg of the extremely reclusive Bronicous Beetle Dragon, which only lays one egg a year, and only 3 eggs have been recovered in the past 50 years. One has hatched, the other broken, and the last is priced extremely high. The symptoms include a continuous cough, a low blood pressure, and dulling eyes.
Conflict by grangergurl
Chapter Notes: All characters are the lovely J.K. Rowlings except for my very own baby brother, Joshua. Big thanks to my beta-reader, mugglegurl. Thanks for everything. Please send in lots of reviews!