FIC--Righting a Wrong

[ficsbydeenas]

Title: Righting a Wrong, chapter 1 of 5
Rating: R for sexual situations and language
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, reference to Harry/Andromeda
Words: 3447
Summary: The pieces fall into place as his world falls apart.
Warnings: Angst...yes, you read that right...
Beta: queenb23more
Author Note: This story is the sequel to the evil story, So Wrong It Was Right, in which Harry and Andromeda have comfort sex. Things will make much more sense if you read that first.

Righting a Wrong


*~*~*~*~*

1

*~*~*~*~*

May 1998…

Harry awoke, feeling refreshed and renewed, yet he had the deep-seeded idea that he'd run something akin to a marathon the night before. His body felt tired and several muscles ached. He tried to think back, but all he'd done was have tea with Mrs. Tonks and gone to bed long after she was asleep.

A shrill cry pulled his from his thoughts and he smiled at the thought that Teddy was up. He had to head over to The Burrow later on for Fred's funeral, and the idea of playing with the baby before he left put a sparkle in an otherwise gloom-filled day.

After a quick shower, he dressed and made his way down the stairs into the kitchen.

"Morning, Mrs. Tonks," he said cheerily, hoping that her mood from last night had changed.

She looked up and appeared very sad. There were dark circles around her eyes and she looked as if she'd been crying again.

"Morning, Harry," she said, looking away from him. "I hope Teddy didn't wake you." Her voice was soft, sounding as if it was miles away.

"No, he didn't. Are you okay?" He sat down in a chair next to her and reached for her hand, hoping to comfort her a bit before leaving, but at their contact, she snatched her hand away from him. Harry was very confused at her behaviour this morning. She was normally very chatty and gregarious; it was as if burying her daughter had completely changed her personality.

"I'm fine. Didn't sleep well last night," she answered, handing Teddy a rattle to keep him occupied. "When did you want to leave for the Weasleys? I'd like to go as well." She didn't look at him this time either when she spoke, which was very out of character for her as well.

Harry glanced into the living room and noticed that their cups and dishes from tea last night were still on the table.

"Oh, I forgot to clean up the living room last night. Sorry about that." Harry stood up and went into the living room. One cup and saucer lay on the floor and there were still full pieces of toast on the tray. "Tobias made a mess in here. Knocked over a tea cup."

As if on cue, the fat cat came sauntering into the room, hissing at Harry. He brushed him aside with his leg and bent down to pick up the overturned cup and saucer, drying the spot on the floor. When the carpet was dry, he smelled something…familiar. Like perfume, maybe. He couldn't really place it, but it was a beautiful fragrance.

In the quiet of the living room, he heard a sob from the kitchen.

---

January 1999…

The clock had just struck midnight, ringing in the New Year: a year full of hope, love and promise. In the living room of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, two crystal champagne flutes lay abandoned on the dark wood of the coffee table next to a half-full bottle of Dom Perignon. A few steps from the sofa began a trail of clothing: a tie strewn over the arm of a chair, a cerulean-coloured cardigan lay discarded on the floor, a crisp white shirt and a silk blouse hung from the banister leading up the stairs, two pairs of shoes lay abandoned at the landing, a white lace bra lung over the railing next to two pairs of khaki trousers which lay next to one pair of lacy white panties and a pair of black silk boxer shorts at the threshold of the largest room, which used to be the drawing room.

Inside the room, candles lent their dim light, casting shadows across the walls and onto the large bed near the window. The shadows accentuated the valleys and hills created by the bodies underneath the sheets and blankets, which were moving slightly as the couple underneath them moved together intimately. Moans broke through the silence as Harry released himself into her and Ginny quivered around him in her own climax. It was the first time they were together like this. And as far as they knew, it was the first time for either of them.

---

June 2000…

"Potter! In my office now!" shouted Kingsley Shacklebolt from the inter-office speaker system.

Harry met Ron's surprised eyes and shrugged his shoulders, mouthing "I don't know" when the question was apparent on Ron's face. Pushing back his chair, Harry Potter stood up and straightened his Auror robes to head to the Minister's office.

"So, should I tell Hermione you'll be late for dinner then? She hates having to put warming charms on food, you know," Ron said nonchalantly as he straightened the pile of parchment the two of them were working on. Harry and Ginny had planned on having dinner with Ron and Hermione that evening, and a sudden and urgent summons from the Minister of Magic himself did not bode well for their plans.

Harry shook his head. "Dunno. I'll let you know, okay?" Ron nodded and Harry exited Ron's office where they’d been working to walk, with nearly as much trepidation as that walk to the Forbidden Forest held, to the lifts. Once inside, Harry was quiet and nervous, barely acknowledging those occupying the space with him. He'd known the Minister for years, and this type of urgency frightened him.

The lift stopped and the doors opened to reveal the tall, dark figure of Minister Shacklebolt standing in the corridor.

"Potter. With me," he stated curtly, and Harry followed him, nerves making his stomach feel as if it was in knots.

The two of them wound their way to the other side of the floor and stopped outside an office labelled 'Nathaniel T. Kirkwood, Chief Medical Officer, Auror Division.' Harry had been inside that office just the previous week for a physical examination. He was praying that there was not something severely wrong with him physically.

Without bothering to knock, Shacklebolt opened the door and Harry followed. They were immediately met by Kirkwood, a short, balding man with a booming voice and intimidating demeanour.

"Ah, Minister, thank you for bringing him in. Have a seat, Potter, on the exam table."

Harry looked warily at the other two men and quickly hopped up to take his place. He was suddenly overcome with a horrible memory of being eight-years-old at a physician office where he had to explain why his arm had suddenly shrunk three inches to avoid getting smashed by Vernon's car. On that particular day, Harry was poked and prodded like some medical oddity, but once there was no explanation found, he was excused and the doctors theorised that Harry was suffering from some emotional disturbance.

"Potter, in your exam last week, something strange came up and we need to correct it," Kirkwood explained. "You're not dying or anything."

At that, Harry was finally free to let out the breath he'd been holding since getting off the lift.

"So, what's wrong with me?"

"I think it'll be easier to show you. Now lie back."

Harry did so and watched Kingsley sit on the edge of Kirkwood's desk, his arms crossed and a stern look upon his face. Healer Kirkwood pointed his wand at Harry's head, said a lengthy incantation, and suddenly, an image of the inside of Harry's head floated above him.

"Now look here, in the cerebral cortex. What do you see?" he asked Harry.

Kirkwood's wand pointed at part of his brain. There was a hazy blue tint to one area. Harry had to think hard about what that particular colour revealed, his mind going over nearly every detail of his Spell Revealing classes. Suddenly, it hit him.

"A…a Memory Charm?" It surprised Harry as much as the others.

"Exactly," Kingsley pointed out. "And according to Auror Regulation 184 section B—"

"'No Auror shall be under the influence of any spell affecting the memory or personality. Such charms may lead to the dismissal from the Department,'” Harry quoted. “Is that the one? I helped write it, remember?"

"Indeed you did. So would you care to explain why there is an Auror-specific Memory Charm on you?" asked an angry minister.

"Auror-specific…that would mean that an Auror, or someone trained by the Ministry, had to have put it on me? Why are you asking me? If I have a Memory Charm on me, how can I answer that question?" Harry was more confused than ever.

"We need to know who put that charm on you. They're the only one that can release it," Kirkwood explained. "If it's not reversed, you will be removed from the ranks."

"WHAT?" This completely blindsided Harry. Yes, he helped write the regulation because there were so many people under the influence of either Imperious or similar spells at the end of the war. Never in a million years had he thought he would fall under this specific rule.

"Even Harry Potter has to be held up to the same standards as everyone else," Kirkwood said dryly. "Looks to me it's about fifteen to twenty months old. Don’t you concur, Kingsley?"

The black man looked up at the image of Harry's brain and examined the variations of the colours and different sorts of sparkles. He bit his lip and nodded. "Although I'd say it's closer to twenty-four months, myself. The striation of the brain matter is rather defined with only one ring with the second nearly completed, which tells us that it's nearly two years old."

Harry's eyes widened at the vast amount of knowledge that Shacklebolt maintained in his own brain. No wonder he was at the top of the Auror division for so long.

"Ah yes," Kirkwood said with admiration in his voice. "Good catch. So, Potter, we need to have you speak with everyone you've had contact in that time frame that could have placed this charm on you."

Harry's mouth dropped. He'd been to nearly fifty funerals in the first month alone. Did the man realise how many people that included?

"Calm down, Harry," Kingsley reassured him. "The only ones you need to question are those that either worked in the Department during that timeframe or those who could have knowledge of the spell. That would include Aurors, certain Ministry employees, and the upper echelon of the government." He took a deep breath, taking in Harry's still-dazed expression. "Percy Weasley is expecting you in his office. He'll help you narrow down your list. You may go."

---

"So you spent the entire evening with my prat of a brother, missed dinner with Ron and Hermione, and still have nothing to show for it? That's rather pathetic, my love," Ginny said sternly as she watched Harry get undressed for bed.

"In a nutshell, yes," he huffed, throwing his shoes on the floor. "Do you know how many people I met back then? It's impossible to tell who may have done it." He drew the jumper over his head and tossed it to the floor next to the shoes.

"Can't they just get rid of it? I mean, this is the Ministry and if they really wanted to fix it they could." Ginny drew back the covers on the bed and crawled under the warm sheets, propped up against her pillows.

"I wish it was that simple. I think an Unspeakable or two are working on a spell to reveal the date. That would be helpful." He undid his belt and then stepped out of his trousers, leaving them on the floor.

"Hem, hem."

Harry looked up to see Ginny with a decidedly cross look on her face and her finger extended to the floor and his pile of discarded clothing.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." He bent over and picked up his clothes and deposited them in the hamper, along with his socks and underwear. Walking naked across the room, he stopped at the dresser and turned to his girlfriend. "Silk or cotton?" Silk meant sex and cotton meant 'not tonight.'

"It's gotta be cotton, Harry. I have a visitor," she said with too much glee in her voice.

"Shit," he muttered and pulled on a pair of blue cotton boxers and crawled inside the bed, curling up behind Ginny, breathing in her flowery scent. "I love you."

"How could you not," she teased, turning her face to him and he kissed her cheek. "I love you right back."

---

Harry was frustrated; he'd just spoken to eighteen people who fell into the parameters given him by Percy Weasley and the Ministry, and all eighteen of them had turned out to be dead ends. It looked as if his career was over and it completely pissed him off. Because of one person, his livelihood was being taken from him, and for what? A stupid little memory charm.

To vent some frustration, he threw his water glass across the room, causing it to smash against the door frame of the study.

"Hey! You almost hit me!"

He looked up and saw a very frightened Ginny standing in the doorway with two bottles of ale. The glass had smashed only a few inches from her right hip; there were even some splinters lodged in the wall next to her. He sprang to his feet and crossed the room in three strides, scooping her up in his arms, the bottles clanking together as they embraced.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry!" He began peppering her face with kisses, hoping that they would take away his guilt, even though he didn't actually hit her with the glass. He reached her lips and kissed her tenderly, reverently. They kissed for a while, standing there in the doorway until Ginny finally pulled away and smiled at him.

"Harry, I'm fine, but please, in the future, throw glasses into the fireplace like everyone else, okay?"

She handed him a bottle, and together they made their way to the cushy sofa that Harry nicked from the Gryffindor common room. They settled in and curled into one another, their bodies curving around the other.

"No luck with the interviews I take it," Ginny said, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"Nope. I have no idea who would have done this," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "And they've given me a deadline now. I have two weeks."

"Serious?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"He's dead." Harry smiled. Ginny hated it when he played that game and swatted him a good one on the shoulder. "Hey! I didn't hit you!" he whined.

"You know I hate it when you do that, you prat. It's…disrespectful." The corners of her mouth curled up slightly.

"And what about this? Is this disrespectful?" He placed his hand on her thigh and inched toward the inside. His lips were at her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"Devilsh, really," she answered, her voice low and deep. She sucked his earlobe into her mouth and he groaned. "Especially since you have to stop."

He lifted his head suddenly and looked at her curiously. "Why? You're…done…right?" She nodded. "So what's the problem?"

Ginny shook her head and pushed him off her. "Andromeda's bringing Teddy, remember? She's going on an overnight, you little horn dog," she teased.

"Damn. I forgot," he admitted.

"Well, that's understandable, Harry. You've had a lot on your mind lately." She pulled his head onto her shoulder and kissed the top of his head. "But he's an easy one to put to bed, isn't he?" Her eyebrows waggled suggestively.

He gave her middle a squeeze and breathed in her wonderful scent. "But he's in the 'terrible twos', remember? Can't forget that temper tantrum, can you?" Harry felt a laugh bubbling up inside him.

She sighed and answered, "That was…interesting."

The last time Teddy visited, he didn't get the toy broom he'd seen in Diagon Alley and threw a tantrum right there on the cobblestone street. He threw himself onto the kerb and screamed at the top of his lungs. His hair changed colour with every breath and a crowd gathered around them, ashamed that The Boy Who Lived Twice couldn't calm down a two-year-old Metamorphmagus. He and Andromeda had talked about handling Teddy when he got like this and they decided to not give him what he wanted. Ignoring the looks of the strangers that passed, he picked up the boy and they, along with Ginny, Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, cutting short their outing. Once back at the house, Teddy ran up the stairs to his room and screamed himself to sleep.

"Please tell me that our kids won't behave like that, okay?" he said idly.

"What?" Ginny lifted his chin and looked at him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "You think I want to have kids after witnessing that?" Her voice was light this time, knowing that he'd said it without thinking. But somewhere, deep inside, Ginny knew…

Harry didn't have time to answer as the Floo sprung to life, revealing the image of Andromeda Tonks through the flames.

"Oh, hey, Andromeda!" chimed Ginny, pushing Harry off her chest.

"Hi, Ginny, Harry," she said, her voice bright, but a bit shaky. "Is it a good time?" She bit her lip nervously, obviously thinking she'd interrupted something.

"Of course. Just Apparate to the foyer, okay?" Harry stood and helped Ginny, the two of them walking to the foyer together.

As soon as they got there, Andromeda appeared, with a very wiggly Teddy.

"Hay! Ho'd me, Hay!"

With a heavy sigh, Andromeda put her grandson on the floor and he ran over to Harry and Ginny, wrapping his arms around their legs.

"Did I Splinch him? He was wiggling the whole way!" a very frazzled Andromeda Tonks said with much irritation.

"Gee-Nee! Up!" Teddy's arms went into the air and his hair turned the exact shade of Ginny's hair, along with his eyes. At that display of affection, she couldn't resist and scooped the boy up in her arms.

"How's my Teddy Bear?" she asked rubbing her nose against his. He laid his head on her shoulder and grasped a handful of her hair, something he always did whenever she held him.

"He's a right mess, you two. I wish you luck this weekend," Andromeda huffed, handing Harry Teddy's overnight bag. "Wouldn't shut up about going to see Hay." Her voice was a little lighter this time and she was more relaxed than she appeared in the Floo. She appeared anxious to get on her way.

"We'll be okay. After the last time, I think anything he can dish out should be cake," Harry reassured her with a smile. He looked to the side and smiled at the scene before him; it warmed his heart to see Ginny with Teddy. His earlier comment about children of their own wasn't a fluke. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he and Ginny would be together.

"Oh dear," Ginny said with her nose scrunched up. "Teddy needs a change. No, I'll do it, that's fine," she said as Andromeda moved toward her. Ginny bent and grabbed Teddy's bag and headed upstairs to the room Teddy used when he stayed with them.

"She's good with him, Harry." Andromeda smiled knowingly at him.

"Yeah, I guess. He's smitten with her," he answered, feeling his face warm.

"He's not the only one." His face heated up again. "So how's work? Anything interesting?" she asked as the two of them entered the study to wait for Ginny and Teddy. She sat down on a leather armchair while Harry sat in the sofa he and Ginny had occupied earlier.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "How about frustrating and damned annoying? The Healers discovered a memory charm on me." Harry looked up and Andromeda paled right before his eyes. "Are you okay? You're not sick, are you?"

"No…no, I'm fine. A…a memory charm?"

Harry nodded and looked at the floor. "Yeah, and whoever did it is ruining my career. The Department's given me two weeks to find the bastard and have them reverse it or I'm out. Can you believe it? I save the world from Voldemort, but someone with something to hide destroys my career. Nice, huh?"

He shook his head in disbelief and looked up at Andromeda, expecting a sympathetic look from her. What he saw surprised him.

Andromeda stood in front of him, tears streaming down her face and her wand extended towards him, shaking.

"Andromeda, you can't fix it. Only the person who…" His mouth dropped in disbelief, understanding her actions. "What's going on?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry. Commemini!"