Is it possible to succeed ...
Ginny had never been to this part of the Ministry, and she hoped after this day that she’d never see its walls again. Her jaw tightened as she clipped steadily down the hall and toward her final destination, paper clutched in her fist. It had been a long night and she wouldn’t have been able to find sleep even if she’d been looking for it. At first light she’d apparated to the Ministry’s atrium and made her way deeper into the earth and toward the holding cells.
She nodded at a man seated behind a desk. A short wave of his wand and the door before her swung open. It meant she’d been expected and that Harry had done what he’d said he would. Ginny knew he was a man of his word, but she’d also realized what she’d asked for was large and unfair. She wasn’t a relative of Blaise. She wasn’t his counsel. As far as the law was concerned, she was nothing to Blaise Zabini. She supposed she was nothing to him either, if what happened yesterday meant anything.
And yesterday meant everything.
The cells she passed were empty. Apparently it hadn’t been a busy day for the rest of the Ministry, and her steps echoed off the brick and mortar. When she turned a corner and her eyes landed on a unruly head of hair, she slowed. Harry stood against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and shoulders slumped forward.
He hadn’t slept. She’d always been able to tell when he hadn’t been sleeping. It was a gift, something passed down from her mother. “Harry.”
Harry used his shoulders to push off the wall when he heard his name called, turning to Ginny with a frown. “You won’t have long,” he said, voice low. This wasn’t strictly legal, but it wasn’t illegal either... just not looked favorably upon. He trusted that Ginny wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the case he’d built against Zabini, but he didn’t have to like the situation.
“I won’t need long,” she answered. “A few minutes is all.”
“I’ll need your wand.”
“What?” Ginny couldn’t help the incredulous tone in her voice. “What do you think I’m here to do?”
“You know it’s nothing personal,” Harry said with a sigh, pulling his glasses from his face to rub at his nose. It had been a long night spent floo calling various members of the MLE about protocol with such a high publicity case on the horizon. He was tired and wanted to collapse in his office but knew sleep wouldn’t be an option for some time yet. “It’s procedure.”
Ginny had had just enough of procedure in the last couple of days, but she pulled her wand from her sleeve and held it out to him regardless. “I’ll come out when I’m done.”
“You have ten minutes,” he said with a nod over his shoulder toward the last cell on the right. “I’ll come get you if you haven’t already come out.”
“Alright.”
She waited until he’d passed her and she heard the door shut before she began down the hall. Ginny wished she’d have asked for a few more lights to be turned on before Harry’d taken her wand, but it was too late now.
A great many things were too late now.
Blaise sat on a cot against the wall, his pressed-shirt much whiter than the peeling surface behind him. He almost looked bored, as if this was all some elaborate game that he’d just sit through until it was finished. It should have surprised her, but it didn’t. He’d never let anyone see him as less than put together.
“Why?”
At the sound, Blaise’s dark eyes rolled up to land on her. A small smirk curled his lips as he shook his head. “You’re not my barrister, Weasley.”
“Why?,” she repeated, coming to stand directly in front of his cell. Her fingers ached to wrap around the bars, but she knew they were charmed and to do so would hurt.
“Would it matter what I said?” he asked, brushing at his pant legs in an effort to remove dirt or lint of some kind from the expensive fabric.
Ginny wanted to scream at his apathy. She knew things hadn’t been the best at the clinic in the past several months, but she would have never expected him to put so much at risk. Everything they’d built - everything she’d built - could be taken away. “They’re looking into my healing license, Blaise.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. They can’t hold you accountable for anything. I saw to that.”
“Am I supposed to be grateful?” she spat at him through the bars, her face filling with color. “Oh, thank you so much, Blaise. I won’t be implicated in the deaths of people I was tasked to heal.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Weasley. You’re out of your depth here. I suggest you toddle back-”
“Did you do it?” Ginny interrupted, taking a step closer. She could feel the magical hum of the cell along her skin, biting like ants. “Did you brew the potion?”
“I brew a lot of potions.”
“Did you brew the potion that killed those people? Did you brew a potion that was meant to kill people?”
“You have-”
“Answer me!” she screamed, voice harsh with emotions. Rage. Fear.
“I did what I had to,” Blaise answered, emotion finally making an appearance as he jumping to his feet, “I did what I had to to keep my family safe!”
“And what about my family? My patients? The people you promised to help when we opened the clinic?”
“Things have changed since then,” he said, coming to stand before her, the metal and magic of the bars separating them by only inches. “You’ve felt it. You’ve seen it. This isn’t like it was before, Weasley. These people will not allow you to be neutral.”
“I’ve never been neutral,” Ginny spat back at him, “I’ve always done what I thought was right.”
“You’re so naive. You think there’s any room for black and white in this new war? You think that wearing a white hat will give some sort of honor? That your family will mourn you any less because you died for some brave and noble cause? There is only who you love, and what you’re willing to do to see that the people you love are kept safe.”
“And are they? Is Hannah safer with you behind bars with murder charges leveled against you?” She almost enjoyed the tick of his jaw at the mention of the blonde baker. “Can you honestly tell me that helping these people ensured that she’ll stay safe? There’s no doubt in your mind that helping kill those people will protect her from the threat you say is out there?”
When he didn’t speak, Ginny couldn’t help the shake of her head. “You’ve risked your reputation on a gamble of safety with the wrong side, Blaise. We could have helped you.”
“Who? The Order?” He let out a laugh, the dry sound echoing off the empty walls of his cell and slapping at Ginny like a thing with wings. “You have no idea how far they’ve already expanded, the people already loyal to their cause. You wear your war wounds like a badge of victory when all they’ve done is lull you into a false sense of security. You’ll underestimate them and you will lose.”
“At least I’ll lose doing what was right and not groveling to a group and begging for their mercy,” she replied through gritted teeth, fiery brown eyes meeting his black unwaveringly. She held up the piece of paper she’d been clutching in her hand. “This is the contract we signed when we opened the clinic. Do you remember it?”
The look on his face said he did, so she continued. “I had a clause written in. As you remember, I had my barrister look over it when you had it written up. She urged me that caution would be favorable, considering your past. It turns out that, despite my naivety, I made the right choice. Your claim on the clinic has been revoked and your name as partner retracted. Though it’s wiped my vault of any savings, your share has been bought and transferred to me. You no longer own a part of Healing Hands.”
“My, but don’t you have everything figured out,” Blaise said, clucking his tongue in her direction. “When this is over and I’m cleared of charges, perhaps I’ll fight you for rights.”
“Try it,” she growled, letting her arm fall to her side as she stared at him. “Try to take the clinic from me.” Anger and rage boiled within her at his threat, emotions she hadn’t felt in months rushing to the surface. She’d been blotting her emotions for so long that the release had her body singing with adrenaline. “You’ll lose, Blaise. You’ll lose.”
“I guess we’ll see, Weasley.”
She watched him retake his spot on the cot, straightening his sleeves as he sat. He looked so utterly put together. So above it all. He wasn’t sitting in a cell for crimes that resulted in someone’s death, he was simply waiting for a train, or a table at his favorite restaurant. His patience was something to be looked at with admiration, with reverence.
Ginny had always thought his attitude was a boon to the clinic. For as much heart and passion she provided, he’d given the calm and collected head of a businessman. He was there to temper her humanity with gravity, to make sure she didn’t become too emotionally involved.
She had no idea how wrong she’d been about him.
Taking a deep breath, Ginny turned her back on Blaise and his cell. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she put distance between herself and her former business partner. It was not enough distance, it would never be enough, to forget that her clinic had helped end the lives of eight people, however indirectly. Her stomach turned with bile at the thought, but she held her outward facade together. She couldn’t allow herself to fall apart here at the Ministry. She’d do it at home, perhaps while her mum held her and told her everything would be alright. Nobody would need to know if she broke for a few minutes.
But she wouldn’t do it here.
Harry stood when Ginny pushed through the door. She looked pale and ashen, but he knew better than to ask if she was okay. He’d lived with her for years and had learned not to question her strength. She’d be fine. Maybe not today, or in a week, but she’d be fine.
He held her wand out to her. “He’ll probably be let out later today.”
“I’m sure he will.” Ginny pushed her wand into her sleeve then brushed hair out of her eyes as she looked up at Harry. “Is this going to stick? Are you sure you’re going to be able to punish him for this?”
“We have the evidence,” Harry answered, frowning slightly. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure Zabini and the people he’s working for are punished. Or at least exposed.”
“If you did this, brought my clinic into this, and nothing comes of it-”
“You know I’d never do that.” His voice was harsher than he meant it to be. Harry knew why she was upset. She had every reason to be upset this was happening in her clinic, but he’d had to do it this way.
Ginny sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know. I know,” she said apologetically. “I know that, Harry. Sorry. Thank you for doing this.”
“You made it clear I owed you.” The small turn of his lips showed that his words betrayed how he felt.
Giving him a small smile, Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Let me know when my clinic can open again.”
“I will.”
Summary: With the assistance of Harry, Ginny questions Blaise in the Ministry holding cells. She informs him that, per their contract, he’d forfeited his share in the clinic.
She nodded at a man seated behind a desk. A short wave of his wand and the door before her swung open. It meant she’d been expected and that Harry had done what he’d said he would. Ginny knew he was a man of his word, but she’d also realized what she’d asked for was large and unfair. She wasn’t a relative of Blaise. She wasn’t his counsel. As far as the law was concerned, she was nothing to Blaise Zabini. She supposed she was nothing to him either, if what happened yesterday meant anything.
And yesterday meant everything.
The cells she passed were empty. Apparently it hadn’t been a busy day for the rest of the Ministry, and her steps echoed off the brick and mortar. When she turned a corner and her eyes landed on a unruly head of hair, she slowed. Harry stood against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and shoulders slumped forward.
He hadn’t slept. She’d always been able to tell when he hadn’t been sleeping. It was a gift, something passed down from her mother. “Harry.”
Harry used his shoulders to push off the wall when he heard his name called, turning to Ginny with a frown. “You won’t have long,” he said, voice low. This wasn’t strictly legal, but it wasn’t illegal either... just not looked favorably upon. He trusted that Ginny wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the case he’d built against Zabini, but he didn’t have to like the situation.
“I won’t need long,” she answered. “A few minutes is all.”
“I’ll need your wand.”
“What?” Ginny couldn’t help the incredulous tone in her voice. “What do you think I’m here to do?”
“You know it’s nothing personal,” Harry said with a sigh, pulling his glasses from his face to rub at his nose. It had been a long night spent floo calling various members of the MLE about protocol with such a high publicity case on the horizon. He was tired and wanted to collapse in his office but knew sleep wouldn’t be an option for some time yet. “It’s procedure.”
Ginny had had just enough of procedure in the last couple of days, but she pulled her wand from her sleeve and held it out to him regardless. “I’ll come out when I’m done.”
“You have ten minutes,” he said with a nod over his shoulder toward the last cell on the right. “I’ll come get you if you haven’t already come out.”
“Alright.”
She waited until he’d passed her and she heard the door shut before she began down the hall. Ginny wished she’d have asked for a few more lights to be turned on before Harry’d taken her wand, but it was too late now.
A great many things were too late now.
Blaise sat on a cot against the wall, his pressed-shirt much whiter than the peeling surface behind him. He almost looked bored, as if this was all some elaborate game that he’d just sit through until it was finished. It should have surprised her, but it didn’t. He’d never let anyone see him as less than put together.
“Why?”
At the sound, Blaise’s dark eyes rolled up to land on her. A small smirk curled his lips as he shook his head. “You’re not my barrister, Weasley.”
“Why?,” she repeated, coming to stand directly in front of his cell. Her fingers ached to wrap around the bars, but she knew they were charmed and to do so would hurt.
“Would it matter what I said?” he asked, brushing at his pant legs in an effort to remove dirt or lint of some kind from the expensive fabric.
Ginny wanted to scream at his apathy. She knew things hadn’t been the best at the clinic in the past several months, but she would have never expected him to put so much at risk. Everything they’d built - everything she’d built - could be taken away. “They’re looking into my healing license, Blaise.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. They can’t hold you accountable for anything. I saw to that.”
“Am I supposed to be grateful?” she spat at him through the bars, her face filling with color. “Oh, thank you so much, Blaise. I won’t be implicated in the deaths of people I was tasked to heal.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Weasley. You’re out of your depth here. I suggest you toddle back-”
“Did you do it?” Ginny interrupted, taking a step closer. She could feel the magical hum of the cell along her skin, biting like ants. “Did you brew the potion?”
“I brew a lot of potions.”
“Did you brew the potion that killed those people? Did you brew a potion that was meant to kill people?”
“You have-”
“Answer me!” she screamed, voice harsh with emotions. Rage. Fear.
“I did what I had to,” Blaise answered, emotion finally making an appearance as he jumping to his feet, “I did what I had to to keep my family safe!”
“And what about my family? My patients? The people you promised to help when we opened the clinic?”
“Things have changed since then,” he said, coming to stand before her, the metal and magic of the bars separating them by only inches. “You’ve felt it. You’ve seen it. This isn’t like it was before, Weasley. These people will not allow you to be neutral.”
“I’ve never been neutral,” Ginny spat back at him, “I’ve always done what I thought was right.”
“You’re so naive. You think there’s any room for black and white in this new war? You think that wearing a white hat will give some sort of honor? That your family will mourn you any less because you died for some brave and noble cause? There is only who you love, and what you’re willing to do to see that the people you love are kept safe.”
“And are they? Is Hannah safer with you behind bars with murder charges leveled against you?” She almost enjoyed the tick of his jaw at the mention of the blonde baker. “Can you honestly tell me that helping these people ensured that she’ll stay safe? There’s no doubt in your mind that helping kill those people will protect her from the threat you say is out there?”
When he didn’t speak, Ginny couldn’t help the shake of her head. “You’ve risked your reputation on a gamble of safety with the wrong side, Blaise. We could have helped you.”
“Who? The Order?” He let out a laugh, the dry sound echoing off the empty walls of his cell and slapping at Ginny like a thing with wings. “You have no idea how far they’ve already expanded, the people already loyal to their cause. You wear your war wounds like a badge of victory when all they’ve done is lull you into a false sense of security. You’ll underestimate them and you will lose.”
“At least I’ll lose doing what was right and not groveling to a group and begging for their mercy,” she replied through gritted teeth, fiery brown eyes meeting his black unwaveringly. She held up the piece of paper she’d been clutching in her hand. “This is the contract we signed when we opened the clinic. Do you remember it?”
The look on his face said he did, so she continued. “I had a clause written in. As you remember, I had my barrister look over it when you had it written up. She urged me that caution would be favorable, considering your past. It turns out that, despite my naivety, I made the right choice. Your claim on the clinic has been revoked and your name as partner retracted. Though it’s wiped my vault of any savings, your share has been bought and transferred to me. You no longer own a part of Healing Hands.”
“My, but don’t you have everything figured out,” Blaise said, clucking his tongue in her direction. “When this is over and I’m cleared of charges, perhaps I’ll fight you for rights.”
“Try it,” she growled, letting her arm fall to her side as she stared at him. “Try to take the clinic from me.” Anger and rage boiled within her at his threat, emotions she hadn’t felt in months rushing to the surface. She’d been blotting her emotions for so long that the release had her body singing with adrenaline. “You’ll lose, Blaise. You’ll lose.”
“I guess we’ll see, Weasley.”
She watched him retake his spot on the cot, straightening his sleeves as he sat. He looked so utterly put together. So above it all. He wasn’t sitting in a cell for crimes that resulted in someone’s death, he was simply waiting for a train, or a table at his favorite restaurant. His patience was something to be looked at with admiration, with reverence.
Ginny had always thought his attitude was a boon to the clinic. For as much heart and passion she provided, he’d given the calm and collected head of a businessman. He was there to temper her humanity with gravity, to make sure she didn’t become too emotionally involved.
She had no idea how wrong she’d been about him.
Taking a deep breath, Ginny turned her back on Blaise and his cell. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she put distance between herself and her former business partner. It was not enough distance, it would never be enough, to forget that her clinic had helped end the lives of eight people, however indirectly. Her stomach turned with bile at the thought, but she held her outward facade together. She couldn’t allow herself to fall apart here at the Ministry. She’d do it at home, perhaps while her mum held her and told her everything would be alright. Nobody would need to know if she broke for a few minutes.
But she wouldn’t do it here.
Harry stood when Ginny pushed through the door. She looked pale and ashen, but he knew better than to ask if she was okay. He’d lived with her for years and had learned not to question her strength. She’d be fine. Maybe not today, or in a week, but she’d be fine.
He held her wand out to her. “He’ll probably be let out later today.”
“I’m sure he will.” Ginny pushed her wand into her sleeve then brushed hair out of her eyes as she looked up at Harry. “Is this going to stick? Are you sure you’re going to be able to punish him for this?”
“We have the evidence,” Harry answered, frowning slightly. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure Zabini and the people he’s working for are punished. Or at least exposed.”
“If you did this, brought my clinic into this, and nothing comes of it-”
“You know I’d never do that.” His voice was harsher than he meant it to be. Harry knew why she was upset. She had every reason to be upset this was happening in her clinic, but he’d had to do it this way.
Ginny sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know. I know,” she said apologetically. “I know that, Harry. Sorry. Thank you for doing this.”
“You made it clear I owed you.” The small turn of his lips showed that his words betrayed how he felt.
Giving him a small smile, Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Let me know when my clinic can open again.”
“I will.”
Summary: With the assistance of Harry, Ginny questions Blaise in the Ministry holding cells. She informs him that, per their contract, he’d forfeited his share in the clinic.