Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter either. It belongs to its creator J.K. Rowling and probably Warner Bros. too. I'm not too sure about that. This piece of literature is simply the work of a humble fan.


By: Water Mage

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." – Hermione

Something was wrong. Pain surged through his head pounding with the fury of a dozen harpies. White hot knives stabbed into his lobes and he staggered forward, reaching blindly. His hand closed around the back of a wooden chair and he breathed deeply as the pain abated after its sudden and swift attack. Relief surged through his nerves and he opened his eyes. Worried blue eyes met his and he smiled shakily.

"Harry?" asked Ron worriedly, grasping his shoulder. "What's wrong, mate?"

Harry shook his head, words failing him. "I-I…"

"We should get you to St. Mungos," said Ron, helping him to stand upright. "That curse must have banged you up inside something awful."

Finally sensation returned fully to his body and he stood on his own. He pushed his glasses up from where they slipped down his nose. He was alright now. At least he thought so. He recalled the pain and thanked heaven that it was gone.

"I'm fine now, Ron," said Harry, smiling crookedly. "It was probably just a bad go at apparation."

Ron snorted, his eyes now shining with relief and humor. "Harry, you're thirty seven and Head of the Auror Department. Bad apparation my arse. You need to go and see a healer. Come on. I bet they already have a spot on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's for you. I wonder who is working today I hope its Lyle, he owes me a few sickles."

Harry took his arm from Ron's grip and shook his head frustrated. "I feel fine, Ron. Honestly."

"That sister of mine would kill me if I didn't get you checked over by a healer," replied Ron. "Plus what kind of brother-in law would I be if I didn't make sure you were fine."

Sighing loudly, Harry ran a hand through his messy, dark hair. "Ron. I'm okay," he said exasperated. "Let's make a deal. If I feel ill again I'll come and find you, and then we'll go off to see a healer. How's that, mate?"

Ron gave him a long, searching look, and then finally relented. "…If you say so. I'll see you later, Harry."

Harry nodded and waved, and they split up. Ron walked toward the cubicles that all the Aurors used as work spaces and Harry to the room designated for the Head Auror. Violet, paper airplanes sailed through the air communicating messages throughout the Ministry of Magic departments in the form of memos. Harry entered his office, unconsciously glancing at the foe-glass mirror hung next to the bookshelf. Shadows, unrecognizable in their appearance, gathered behind a cloud of darkness. Not a problem. He wasn't "in trouble" till he could see the white of their eyes. Harry threw his cloak on the chair in front of his desk. He let his body sag as he basked in the comfort of his high backed chair that was covered in cushioning charms. He closed his eyes and massaged his lobes with his fingertips.

It had been a standard mission. Whispers had been heard of a sect of junior dark magicians trying to push a new magical drug that was lethally addictive to the muggle population. Its effects gave them an almost magical high that while euphoric was addictive to the point of shut down of bodily systems if more drugs couldn't be induced. It left the victims as wasting corpses with bleeding eyes and cracking, decayed skin. After gathering intel they raided their base, an abandoned warehouse in Manchester, and engaged the criminals in combat. The resulting fight had been full of explosions, dead bodies, and familiar, ruinous green light.

Green eyes opened and stared at the photos adorning the paper littered desk. The frames went in a neat little line. Oldest to youngest. James. Albus Severus. Lily. A smile tugged at his lips involuntarily. He hoped that Albus was doing okay at Hogwarts. He had left just days ago. He took after Harry the most and was the only child to inherit both Harry's hair and green eyes. He loved all three of his children unconditionally but Albus was his favorite. There was a connection, a bond, that he shared with his middle child that the others couldn't duplicate. Little Lily was her mother's girl through and through and James was first born. James was at that age where he wanted to be with his friends more than family. Although he still reveled in the role of big brother for his two younger siblings.

Harry's gaze trailed to the last frame that stood parallel to the others. A smiling and winking face gazed up at him with bright brown eyes framed by a long mane of red hair. He mirrored that smile and a wave of powerful emotion flooded his senses. His beautiful wife. They had been through so much and still they had endured. He was such a lucky man. It was amazing that someone could see through the Boy Who Lived and see just him, Harry.

"Speaking of…" Harry whispered, glancing at the watch that adorned his wrist (a Christmas present from his children) and jumped from the desk.

He grabbed his cloak and made his way from the offices with a quick stride. These days' people didn't openly gape or stare when they saw him but there was looks of unmistakable awe and respect that replaced the stupefaction. He didn't shy away from the looks, as he would have done in his youth, but waved and nodded politely to those passing. He had done much to truly earn the wizarding realm's respect and was happy to finally be really known for an accomplishment he took part in, unlike the first defeat of Voldemort when he was a baby.

The Atrium wasn't busy this time of night. Most Ministry workers had long since gone home before nightfall. The Department of Law Enforcement was one of the few departments that kept all day hours. The Fountain of Magical Brethen, once destroyed, was remade more glorious than before, and gleamed in the low level lighting of the long hall. He made his way to the fireplaces on the right side of the Atrium's entrance and stood inside. He momentarily came out of a toilet in the underground bathroom. The act was weird the first time nineteen years ago, but he had long since gotten used to the wizarding way of comings and goings. With a destination firmly in mind, Harry spun on the ball of his heel and disapparated away.

The home of the Potter's was actually the rebuilt home of his parents, located in the former ruined plot of land in Godric's Hollow. The stars and the moon beamed down particularly bright tonight. He didn't stop to take in the beautiful sight. Harry entered the house through the kitchen and grinned at the sight that greeted him.


Lily raced across the kitchen with long red hair trailing behind her. She jumped into Harry's arms and he laughed and spun her around. Her giggles echoed off the kitchen and he plopped a big wet kiss on her cheek. She squirmed and Harry let her down.

"Where's your mum, baby girl?" asked Harry, going over to the stove and sniffing in the aroma that drifted from the pots on top.

Lily chewed on a piece of her hair, looking up at him with the exact shade of Ginny's brown eyes on her freckled face. "I don't know. But Daddy a letter from Al' came today! He got sorted into Gryffindor! Mum laughed and almost cried. Daddy she said that—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," laughed Harry, interrupting her ramble. "Slow down, Lily. Little Al' got into Gryffindor? That's great!"

"Well, well, well, is someone in here sharing some good news without me," said a voice.

They spun around and Ginny stood behind them hands on her hips and a mischievous smile on her face. Harry lit up at the sight of his wife. Her red robe complimented her flaming, red hair and her warm gaze settled on Harry giving him that familiar lighthearted feeling that he had felt since he was sixteen years old. There was not a day that went by that the love for this woman grew even more.

"Hello, dear," said Harry, accepting the kiss delivered to his lips.

"I see Lily gave you the good news—"

"I did Mum! It is so wicked! I can't wait till I get to go to Hogwarts next year," chattered Lily without pause.

Ginny laughed. "And you will love every minute, Lily. So how was work, dear?"

She puttered about the stove fixing plates piling with food and Harry answered, leaving out the graphic violence. Lily would occasionally interject with childlike questions, radiating innocence and curiosity, and Ginny would put in her opinion on some type of Ministry event. He smiled softly and basked in the feeling of contentment his family brought him. This, this was perfect. Ginny sat a plate before him and their eyes met as he opened his mouth to thank her. Except that's not what happened.

A scream of pure, raw, agony split the air.

Harry fell from his chair clutching his head and screaming so loudly that the windows rattled as his magic lashed out accidentally. Lily screamed and ran forward but Ginny pushed her back from her twitching and thrashing husband as he rolled along the floor in pain. Ginny grabbed Harry's hand, crying and shouting his name with hysterical panic lacing her voice.


Abruptly he went rigid and stilled. The screams ended leaving an empty quiet in the kitchen. The sound of muffled sobs brought Harry to consciousness. Slowly, he opened his eyes and focused on the blurred face above him. His throat was sore and it hurt. Oh heaven it hurt. His head ached and his stomach turned as nausea filled his bowels. He bent over and dry heaved, as his stomach insides tried to come up, but he stomped it down relentlessly. He reached for his glasses that had fallen to the floor earlier and shakily put them on.

The blurry form of Ginny Potter came into view, clear and focused. Harry looked at her and she recoiled at the expressions of confusion, horror, and revulsion that painted themselves across his face all at once. A single word, a question, delivered weakly from his dry, scratchy throat, broke the silence:


"From there it all unfolded." – Neville

The next day it was Friday. Harry didn't have to go into work today. He took a sick day under the urging of Ginny. He lounged on the couch watching the television dressed only in his pajamas with his wand lying on the cushion next to him. A body appeared in his line of sight and he groaned. He looked up into Ginny's flashing eyes that were staring at him with a burning intensity.

"Harry James Potter, are you or are you not going to get ready to go?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

Harry blinked at her innocently. "Eh, no."

"Harry," she sighed, annoyed. "I know you don't like St. Mungo's but you are clearly sick or something. Who knows what that spell did to you? It was obviously a dark curse right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ginny, I feel fine. I'm sure it was just a one time thing."

Ginny glared at him. "No that's not going to cut it, Harry. You can't pretend you're alright when your obviously not. It's not just you anymore, Harry. You're not a kid. People depend on you. The kids, Teddy, Hermione, Ron, me."

He smiled reluctantly. "Alright, you got me Gin'. I'll go. I still don't know what I said to make you so worried. I don't even remember saying anything."

Ginny sat down on the edge of the couch. She looked at him and it was a look full of sadness and worry. Her hand touched his arm and trailed down till it slipped into his hand.

"You only said, why," she answered and then paused, remembering. "It wasn't what you said… it was the way you looked…"

"I think we should have suspected. All of us. But we never did. How could we have been so blind?" – Ron

It was late in the afternoon by the time Harry made it to St. Mungo's and to the Spell Damage division that occupied the fourth floor of the hospital. He sat on the cushy bed waiting for a healer to come back with his results from the scan they just conducted. He was glad that he came by himself. Ginny had to go into work at The Prophet. There was no way that he wanted her anxiety and worry to rub off on him.

"Mr. Potter," said Healer Jenkins, entering the room.

Harry looked up and frowned at the pensive air that surrounded the healer. "What's wrong?" he asked and then smirked. "What? Do I have six months to live? I've heard it before."

Healer Jenkins shook his head. "No, sir. But I do have some unusual news. From what I can tell the spell cast on you was indeed a dark curse. It is meant to break down pathways in the mind till eventually it basically fries the brain."

His heart raced but he hid his worry behind a cool façade. Harry raised an eyebrow. "I can hear a 'but' coming."

Healer Jenkins nodded slowly. "The spell has reacted differently than its intended purpose. It encountered pathways that are blocked and locked off. Instead of spreading to encompass the entire brain, after destroying pathways, the spell is focusing its efforts into breaking down these blocks."

"Wait," said Harry, stunned into bafflement. He held up a hand signaling for the wizard to stop. He needed time to process. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He took a deep breath to calm the confusion and fear that clawed in his lungs. A moment passed and he reigned in his emotions enough to continue. "Okay you said I have 'blocks'… What exactly does that mean? Has my mind been tampered with Healer Jenkins?"

The Healer nodded. "Yes, Mr. Potter. I suppose it was without your consent since you are unaware of the blocks. You mind has been altered multiple times. I cannot say for sure how many times but it has been altered. I would say maybe an advanced form of the Memory Charm. We actually get that quite a few times around here."

"Can you fix me and trace it back?" asked Harry, green eyes turning cold and voice frosting over with ice. "Can you find the bastard that messed with my mind?"

Sadly, the Healer shook his head. "I'm sorry Mr. Potter but with your condition if I were to treat you the dark curse would go after the active pathways and it wouldn't stop till your mind was destroyed. The blocks are helping you. My advice is to let the curse run its course and with the blocks gone it will be broken."

"Never mind then," replied Harry, smirking triumphantly. "When the blocks are gone then I will have my memories back and I'll know who did this."

"He told all of us he was fine. Of course, we should have known something was wrong. It is Harry." – George

Almost a week passed and Wednesday rolled around. Harry hadn't told anyone what happened at St. Mungo's. He swallowed Painless Potion everyday and kept his condition to himself. He didn't want his friends and family to worry. As he knew they would. It was what they did best when it came to him. Memories returned in pieces. Sometimes it was sights and others it was sound. Still it wasn't enough to put it all together into coherent memories.

"You okay, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry looked up from picking at his turkey sandwich. "I'm fine, Hermione. Just doing a bit of thinking."

Ron and Hermione both shared a look. Harry rolled his eyes. They had been good at that when he was younger and now with their marriage still going strong, they had gotten even better at it. Didn't matter though if they said it without words. Harry had become just as proficient in deciphering their silent language as they were at speaking it.

"Seriously you guys," sighed Harry. "I'm fine."

Hermione's lips pursed in a thin line as she analyzed him with her calculating gaze. "You're hiding something," she said simply.

"Who me?" asked Harry with feigned chagrin. "I would never. You two are my oldest and dearest friends. I would never—"

Ron snorted, chocking on the water he was swallowing. Hermione eyed his now wet chin, and giving him a suffering sigh she offered him her napkin. He took the offered cloth and dabbed at the wet spots all the while giving Harry the evil eye. It was a rule that you don't make Ron laugh while he's either eating or drinking. It was almost law.

"If I was hiding something I would tell you guys," promised Harry.

Hermione nodded still looking completely disbelieving. "Just don't get into any foolishness."

Harry chuckled. "Who me?"

"Poor, Harry. It's so tragic." – Mrs. Weasley

Harry rubbed his head as another onslaught of fuzzy images and sounds assimilated themselves within his consciousness. He leaned against the wall of Lily's bedroom. He had just put her to sleep and barely staggered out of her room upright as the memories hit him. If he had hadn't taken a dose of Painless Potion earlier then he would surely be howling on the floor instead of just seeing stars.

"Harry?" asked Ginny appearing at the top of the stairs.

She was dressed in her sleeping robe and her hair was still wet from her shower previously. A fierce wave of passionate emotion jumped through every nerve in his body. Harry took a step forward and stopped as the feeling left just as swiftly as it appeared. He frowned trying to reason his sudden emotional swing.

"I'm fine, Gin'," smiled Harry, putting the feeling in the back of his mind. He wrapped his arms around his wife and placed a soft kiss on her neck. "You look beautiful."

Ginny winked at him. "How did I get lucky to land such a suave guy?"

"By being you," replied Harry simply.

Something, a Presence, a feeling, rushed in his head and screamed at him wrong, wrong, wrong.

He was distracted by her kissing him and the voice died in the heat of their passion.

"The beginning was also the end." – Bill

Harry strolled up the path that led to Hogwarts. The grand castle with its imposing towers was the first place he had ever called home. Still to this day the castle held a fond place in his heart. He checked his watch and it was nearing lunchtime. Good. He could find both of his kids in the same place. He walked into the Great Hall ignoring the looks and the whispers that followed in his wake. He waved to the staff at the Head Table. He spotted a few familiar faces. Professor McGonagall was still Headmistress and Neville was at her side, waving at him with his dirt smudged hand. Harry grinned glad to see his friend still enjoying his post as Herbology instructor. Harry pointed to the Gryffindor table and they understood the reason for his visit.

He creped up behind his youngest son and ruffled his hair with no mercy. Squawking, the young boy spun around with his cheeks flushed a vivid shade of red. Harry laughed as Albus shouted in surprise and jumped up to hug his father. Out of his peripheral vision he caught sight of identical messy black hair and pulled his eldest son into a quick one armed embrace. Didn't want to embarrass the lad too much.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" asked James, incredulously.

"Yeah Dad, what's going on?" added Albus.

Harry just shrugged enigmatically. "Come, boys."

They followed Harry from the Great Hall till they neared the entrance doors of the castle. Harry ignored their questioning faces. He just gazed at them, looking at their faces. He didn't know what to say. He had nothing to say. He didn't have a probable reason for being here. Harry had just had an overwhelming urge to see his kids, to confirm with his own eyes they…existed. He had already been to see Lily at the day school in Godric's Hollow and now his boy's were looking at him for answers. Answers he didn't have.

"Cant a father just see his sons?" Harry finally settled on saying.

James raised an eyebrow, his brown eyes narrowing in a look that reminded him all too much of his mother. Harry almost took a step back, and barely resisted the urge to snap at him to never look that way again. But he pushed back the impulse. He was having a lot of urges lately and it all tied to the blocks on his mind fading. What he would find he knew internally, without a doubt, that it would change his life completely.

"Dad?" asked Albus, touching his arm and staring at him with worried green eyes.

Seeing his own eyes staring back at him from the face of his child comforted him. He didn't know why but it always did and right now he needed that comfort. A damn was breaking inside of him. What it was going to release was going to be big.

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Nothing to worry about boys. I just wanted to make sure you both were doing alright here."

James immediately launched into a tirade about how their Victoire, their cousin, nicked his quills last night to write a letter to Teddy, who was off traveling the world. Harry smiled good naturedly amused at how much James sounded like Ron. He had definitely taken after his uncle with his tendency to meddle in other people's love affairs. Harry glanced at Albus who still staring at him suspiciously. He completely saw through Harry. It was a gift he always had. Albus was uncanny with his ability to read his father. He knew something was wrong but he wouldn't say anything till Harry did.

The bell rang and Harry bid his boys to hurry off to class. Albus hugged him one last time and after shooting his father another suspicious look, he took off after his sprinting brother. Harry watched his kids go with a fond smile. He turned to go as well and his eyes caught sight of the courtyard nestled on the side of the castle surrounded by a flowerbed. Tall, red flowers were in full bloom near the gazebo. Red flowers. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.




Red. Red.



He swallowed as his throat suddenly went dry. He walked on autopilot to the courtyard. His legs carried him to a stone bench near the gazebo. He stared around him as his body physically shook and thrummed as his mind was assaulted with images. He closed his eyes as stars flared behind his eyelids. A groan left his lips as the sensation of a hot wind cascaded over his body.

Something clicked.

And he remembered.

"Hard to believe it happened so long ago. He was only sixteen." – Hagrid

"It's weird that Slughorn is gathering us all together for his little club, eh?" asked Harry, idly running his hand over the gazebo's railing. "We're only teenagers. It's a tad bit too early to try and cultivate us."

Ginny nodded. "I'm only fifteen. Just because I can do a mean Bat-Boogey Hex doesn't make me special. The man is obviously short a few gobstones."

There was a silence and it started to become a bit uncomfortable. Harry was about to excuse himself but Ginny grabbed his arm. Frowning he opened his mouth to question her but stopped at the odd glint in her eye. Blushing, she dropped his arm and stepped back.

"Wait," she said softly. "Don't go. I want to ask you something. Is it true that Dumbledore told you that your greatest power against Voldemort was love?"

Harry nodded slowly, not really sure where she was going with this. "Yeah. I think it has something to do with how awful our childhoods were and how I didn't let it get to me. I appreciate and feel love differently and strongly than him and most people."

"I thought it was something like that," muttered Ginny, thoughtfully.

He heard a cry of "Perfectus Totalus!" and saw a flash of white light before he went down, flat on his back and stiff as a board. Panic surged through every nerve of his body. A weight slid itself on his torso and Ginny settled herself on top of his stiff, unmovable body. He glared at her with his eyes, demanding her to let him go. This had gone far beyond some stupid prank. He hated being helpless in a situation and this was a prime situation. He tried to gauge her intentions and didn't like what he saw. She didn't look crazy, angry, or under the Imperius Curse. Harry had seen this expression on many girls that followed him around Hogwarts. Love. She was in love. Love sick girls were perhaps the most dangerous people to be around. Their actions were erratic and insensible. He had to get out of here now.

"Now, now," she whispered, soothingly. "It just won't do for you to panic."

Harry glared at her. What did she want from him? Was she a Death Eater?

Ginny saw his eyes flick toward her arm and she shook her head. "I'm no Death Eater scum," she said with a grimace. "You have questions. Lets talk, Harry. Let's really talk." Her voice trailed off holding the word talk, stretching it out, like a caress. "When I was little girl I was told stories about the Boy Who Lived who defeated the big, powerful Dark Lord. You were my hero. I imagined you being my knight come to take me away and lavish me in the life of the famous. When I was ten, I ran after the Hogwarts Express waving beside it, like a silly little girl. Do you remember, Harry? You had a seat by the window and you turned just enough that your scar showed and our eyes met. I stopped dead. I thought my heart had stopped. Then you left the station and the train was gone, taking you with it."

Harry didn't know what the hell she was talking about. There was no meeting of the eyes. He had looked at her sure. But she was running beside the train and waving like a loon. It was hard not to look. Crazy, psychopaths he was used to. Fanatic girls were still new to him. Now it looks like the latter could fit into the first category.

"I let my crush get the best of me sometimes," admitted Ginny with false shame. "But I thought once you spent more time around me you would be drawn to me the way I'm drawn to you. I've finally started to become a bit popular and still nothing!" She slammed her hand down on his chest and he inwardly wheezed at the force of the contact. She didn't notice. Ginny was staring into the distance, remembering. "You only see me as Ron's little sister. Nothing else. Never nothing else. And now that damn Ravenclaw comes into the picture— I see the way you look at her sometimes, your lips twisting up in that little smile when your laughing, that spark in your eyes. You don't even notice it, but I do. I notice everything about you. And I will not have you falling for Luna Fucking Lovegood!"

She was heaving by the time she ended her rant. Her chest was rose and fell rapidly and she greedily sucked air into her lungs. Harry stared, stunned. Those flashing eyes and that twisted snarl were a look he had never seen before on Ginny. He was starting to get a little scared. She really believed what she was saying. Did she really watch him that much? But he didn't think of Luna that way. He had too many things to worry about to really put thought into romance. Sure, Luna did have that way—

"Your thinking too hard, Harry," said Ginny suddenly calm, visibly composing herself before his eyes. "Your eyes do this squinting thing when you're doing intense thinking, like now. We will have a future together. I have made sure of that."

From her pocket she produced a vial containing a silver-white liquid. It had a reflective sheen to it and when she uncorked it, immediately Harry was hit with the fragrance of treacle tart, a broomstick, and something flowery, maybe roses. Harry was starting to get nervous. He tried with all his might to squirm but his body wasn't responding to his will. What was she going to do to him?

"This, my dear Harry, is Amortentia," whispered Ginny, staring at the vial with a gleam of hope and anxiousness. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world."

You can't manufacture love. Everyone knows that, Harry thought, narrowing his eyes at the vial. It was something Professor Snape drilled into their heads when he taught Potions. The only thing it could produce is a strong infatuation or obsession. Ginny had truly lost touch with reality.

Ginny caressed the vial and licked her lips. "This will solve all our problems, Harry. See, you said it yourself that love is your power. You love on a level that is beyond most. Most people would be able to detect a love potion's effects after witnessing someone under the influence. You will become so devoted and dedicated…but who would know the difference… Harry Potter is normally so passionate about people… now it will just be toward me."

She let out a high pitched giggle that made Harry shudder inside. No. No. He was not going to just sit here and be mind fucked into submission. He gathered his will and focused. He fought against the spell pushing all his thoughts into movement. He turned his head and his shoulders twitched. Ginny moved quickly snatching his head in an iron grip. She held his chin steady and used the other hand to bring the vial toward his lips. He screamed inside his mind hoping beyond hope that somebody would come and stop her. The red flowers that bloomed in the courtyard caught his eye and that image froze in his mind as the scalding hot liquid was poured down his mouth. She massaged his throat forcing the muscles to relax, forcing him to swallow.

"There, there," said Ginny softly, compassionate brown eyes staring intently into Harry's own panicked green ones. "Everything will be alright. No one will ever be able to counter the potion unless they know you're under its power. Don't worry, love. We will always be together."

It was like a flood of water that started at his head then continued down his body. The potion worked itself inside his body, filling nerves with false senses and rewiring his brain into thinking her fantastical wish was his reality. The more he fought off the foreign, invading thoughts the more they consumed him. They swallowed him up and he drowned in the power of the potion. A hand settled on his chest, caressing the flesh beneath.

"You are mine, Harry James Potter," Ginny stated with a cold edge of promise.

Harry's eyes opened and he gazed at her with new emotions. The potion thrummed through his body influencing his perception. Before Harry was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her red hair was vibrant even in the dark night against the backdrop of stars. Her flawless skin and shining eyes were hypnotizing and he knew without a doubt that she was his goddess. How could he have not seen her before? Really see her. Had he been clinging to her status as Ron's little sister, which prevented him from seeing all that she truly was. A woman who was the other half of his soul—

Ginny lips suddenly split into a full, intoxicating smile once she took in his worshiping eyes. "That will do."

The skin beneath her palm tingled and pulsed. Harry felt her touch as if it were the hand of life giving him energy and power. Under her touch the Amortentia pulsed with a life of its own till it felt like a being within his own body. A being of primal emotion. A monster in his chest that controlled and lived only for Ginny Weasley.

"Yes, that will do nicely," she repeated. She whipped out her wand. "Now to erase the evidence from your mind. I love you, my Harry. Obliviate!"

"Ginny, as the baby, was used to getting her way." – Charlie

The swinging doors to the third floor section of St. Mungo's were thrown open with such a force that they dented the walls when they hit. Healers and nurses stepped back, gawking at the famed Harry Potter, who was staring at the staff with a visible cloud of tingling, swirling, magical energy surrounding him like a halo. He was a sight and a fright to behold as the gaping witnesses couldn't help but flinch under that visible aura of power and those deep, furious green eyes.

A brave Healer, the chief attendant, stepped forward. "C-can we help you, sir?"

Harry glared at the shaking man. "What does one have to do to get tested and cured for Amortentia around here?"

"Do you know who gave you the potion? It's important," said the Healer, medical interest, and a healthy curiosity forced him to recover from his star struck and fear.

Harry lips twisted into a bitter snarl. "The bitch who calls herself my wife."

"He had a right to be angry. She fooled us all." – Mr. Weasley

He hadn't felt this free in years. His entire body felt different. Lighter. Liberated.

Harry digested the memories that were now unlocked to his mind. Ginny had used a Memory Charm on him multiple times. More times came after the first time at the courtyard on Hogwarts grounds. There had been other times when her charm had begun to fade when they were younger, newlyweds, and he almost fathomed his true self. He had been under the effects of the Amortentia, but knew that she wasn't right, wasn't sane. He wanted to blame someone for not noticing he was under a love potion. Anyone. But he knew it wasn't anyone's fault. He had always been too passionate, too emotional… of course people had assumed when he fell in love he would be just as passionate, emotional, obsessed.

"Oh, Merlin it's dark in here!" A light flickered on and Ginny appeared in the doorway of the lit up living room. "Harry!" she gasped, startled. "What are you doing sitting here in the dark?"

Harry didn't rise from the armchair he sat in. He didn't move. He didn't look at her. "I took Lily to your parents for the night," he whispered so quietly that she had to strain to hear it.

Ginny dropped her wand on the table near her and stepped forward then stopped. She stared at the blank look on her husband's face and whatever she saw made her stop cold. She opened her mouth and then closed it as those green eyes she loved so much nailed her in place.

"I always knew in the back of my mind that I couldn't be attracted to someone who reminded me of my mum in looks," said Harry in a voice lacking all warmth and humor.

Ginny frowned. "Harry, what on earth has gotten into you?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe half of my life has been this big lie," he laughed harshly. "I guess it wouldn't be the first time though."

She stilled. It was a careful stiffening of her body that caused Harry to take notice. "What are you talking about?" asked Ginny slowly with deliberate innocence.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about you crazy bitch," snapped Harry, his eyes flashing. "I've finally come to my senses. My mind is whole and that monster in my chest has been given a quick AK."

Ginny's face went slack and then pale with shock. "You know…"

"…Everything," finished Harry, smirking darkly. "I don't even want to know why. You did enough speechifying that day twenty-one years ago. You are a vile, evil, insane, sorry excuse of a witch and I hope you rot in hell next to Voldemort and his fucking death eating, ass kissers—"

Ginny found her voice. "Harry—"

At the sound of her voice a tornado of fury welled inside of him and exploded outward. Wind rushed the room in a raging tempus pushing back the furniture and throwing items into walls with shattering force. Harry stepped through the sudden gale toward Ginny.

"Don't. Ever. Say. My. Name. Like. That." He bit out furiously through clenched teeth. "Don't talk to me as if you mean it, like you fucking care." He reigned in his emotions and the wind left as quickly as it came. His wand was clenched in a white knuckled grip at his side. Sparks of sickly, green light fell from its tip and hit the floor with soft hissing sounds. His arm whipped forward and his wand pressed hard into her throat.

Ginny made a sound of fear. "Harry, don't… I did it for you. For us."

"Give me one reason I shouldn't send you to Hell by way of the Killing Curse train," demanded Harry coldly. "TELL ME!"

"Our children," she replied in a quiet plea.

Harry's other hand jerked forward and he stopped it in mid reach. His fingers clenched and unclenched in spasm like twitches. Those convulsive fingers were alarmingly close to her neck. He slowly brought his arm down, still glaring at her.

"I should break your neck for saying that," stated Harry. "I can't believe that you brought children into this make-believe fantasy, this lie."

Ginny slowly smiled. "You don't believe that. You love me and our children. This life is all we both ever really wanted."

"I love my children, but I hate their hellspawn of a mother," replied Harry truthfully.

The doorbell chiming startled her… and made Harry smile. "And that would be the Hit Wizards come to cart you away."

Ginny moved fast, diving for her wand. Harry didn't make it to the top of the Auror division by fame alone. His wand was drawn and the Full Body-Bind curse was uttered before Ginny's hand wrapped around the handle of her wand. The curse struck her and her arms snapped to her sides and then her entire body tipped over. She fell hard on her back and Harry smiled, hearing her head crack solidly against the floor.

Harry bent over taking joy in the panic and alarm that shone in her eyes. "Shh, shush now. There, there," he said mockingly. "Everything will be okay. The kids are mine and I'm sure one or two might forgive you one day and visit you in Azkaban."

He smiled at her.

And for the first time in twenty one years he truly meant it.

"What's done in the dark will come to the light."