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SIYE Time:9:47 on 29th March 2024
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Meddling with Fate
By Tamaran Girl

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Minerva McGonagall
Genres: Drama, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 6
Summary: Fate sometimes has a hand in matters. And Albus Dumbledore was the perfect meddling fool who lent his hand quite willingly. After all, it wasn’t just coincidence that a Weasley girl was born when she was…
Hitcount: Story Total: 5481



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Okay, so I definitely loved DH. Anyways, this story idea was finished long before DH so is not in canon to the events in there but I hope you enjoy anyways.




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Meddling with Fate

“McGonagall said Dumbledore wanted to talk to you.”

Ginny scoffed, squinting at Harry in the dark broom closet. “You decide to tell me this after a snog?”

With the light pouring from under the door, she saw Harry smile shyly. She sighed, rolling her eyes but giving Harry a peck on the lips. When she withdrew, his lips followed hers, as if begging for more. She giggled.

“Hey, this meeting could’ve been over if you had told me earlier,” Ginny reprimanded jokingly, and she opened the door.

Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her back for a proper kiss. When they finally pulled away, Ginny’s head was whirling with breathless happiness.

“Hurry back,” he said, his eyes shining mischievously. “I’m sure there’s another broom closet we have yet to try out.”

“Harry!” she swatted him, but the idea played around in her mind. Rolling her eyes, she left, still smiling brightly as she made her way to the headmistress’s office.

The end of the war had finally come, two months ago. It had been a bloody battle, a battle that many would remember for a very long time.

She had been there, fighting her hardest. Everything had been a blur; spells flew and whizzed by her as she had dodged and tossed her own back. When the final moment had come, she had been at Harry’s side when he defeated Voldemort.

After the battle, Harry, lying in a St. Mungo’s bed, told her he was sorry he had left her behind but he loved her. She had repeated the words with vigor and when he returned to the Burrow, they had spent many hours hiding away and making up for lost time.

Blushing a little, Ginny straightened herself before entering the open office. Professor McGonagall looked up from her parchments and nodded.

“Miss Weasley. A bit later than I expected. Perhaps I shouldn’t have sent Mr. Potter with that message.” Ginny blushed but refused to look away. Her professor sighed, collecting some parchments, glancing at the portrait. “I’ll leave you two.” She left, closing the door behind her.

“Miss Weasley, how good to see you again. Lemon drop?”

Ginny grinned and took one from the desk before taking a seat.

“Professor, Harry told me you wanted to see me — ”

“Ah, yes,” Professor Dumbledore said, nodding slowly from his portrait. The former happiness had disappeared, to be replaced with contemplation. “I think it is time we spoke about some matters, as they heavily concern you.”

The redhead felt her eyebrows rise but she didn’t say anything.

Dumbledore carefully analyzed his fingers before meeting her eyes.

“Ever since that night when the prophecy was made, I kept thinking about how would a boy defeat one of the most feared wizards of all time. It wouldn’t be easy, no; it would be a difficult task indeed. And when Lily Potter’s love saved Harry from death, I knew the ultimate weapon that would help him.”

“Love.” Ginny’s voice was a murmur, thinking before she looked up to meet Dumbledore’s eyes. “The thing Voldemort feared the most.”

“Exactly,” Dumbledore whispered. “And I knew that I had — I knew, once hearing about Harry’s less-than-loving family, he would need it desperately as he grew up. And I needed to help him gain these tools, or he would fail.

“I have on many accounts been called a meddling old fool. I have manipulated things to go my way. I twisted things just so events would play out like I needed them to. And it was no different with Harry; I manipulated nature to give him the most powerful tool of them all.”

“Professor?” Ginny said slowly. “How — you said this had to do with me. How exactly…?”

Dumbledore bowed her head.

“I have done many things I regret, yet many things I have seen no alternative so an I am satisfied with what I had to do to ensure Harry the tools he would need to defeat Voldemort.”

She cocked her head, looking confused. “I still don’t — ”

Dumbledore looked on in sorrow. “It was — and still is — considered impossible to aid Fate. But I did find a way — and used it to help Harry, because I knew he would need a formidable witch to not equal him, but able to hold her ground against him and be his comfort for the hardships that would come. I knew that the Weasleys were a powerful, old wizarding family and knew how there hadn’t been a girl born in several generations. She would be extremely powerful, if born as the seventh daughter. You do know, seven is considered to be a very powerful number.”

She paled.

“You…that’s impossible,” she breathed, her whole body stiffening. “I can’t…you…”

I did find a way…ensure you the tools to defeat Voldemort…need a formidable witch…be his comfort for the hardships…

It all came crashing into her and she stepped backward as the weight fully hit her.

“You…you brought me into this world,” she whispered, her voice cracking. When Dumbledore didn’t deny it, she continued, tears in her eyes. “It wasn’t chance that I was the first Weasley girl in the family for generations; you — you made me.”

You made me. It sounded so twisted, so artificial, and so unreal she tasted bile.

Ginny jerked, as if she had been electrified by her own words words. A look of disgust was on her face as her eyes narrowed on Dumbledore.

“I wasn’t meant to be born?” Ginny whispered, horror etched on her features. She swallowed, forcing herself to continue. “You just brought me into this world so I could be Harry’s — his shoulder to cry on?” Tears were in her eyes as she stared wildly at her old headmaster, praying — but knowing otherwise — it wasn’t true.

Dumbledore bowed his head in shame. “I know it sounds cruel, to have used you as so, but I did it because I saw it as the only way Harry would get through it all. He needed love not only from a family, but from someone who would love him on the highest level: true love.”

“How can it be true love if you created me?” Ginny shouted, anger replacing her shock. “You manipulated with nature, somehow causing my mum to get me when she might’ve had instead a boy!” The tears were flowing freely now as she continued shouting. “And I suppose you manipulated Ron by making him become Harry’s friend, huh? Planted the whole troll too, you know, to get the whole trio united and all.

“And oh, let’s see, me. Did you make Lucius Malfoy give me that diary? Just so Harry would come and rescue me, like some damsel in distress? Hmm, what else who could you have manipulated to benefit your own motives?”

At the end of her tirade, Ginny was panting heavily, her face red with anger, as she glared at the aged, saddened man.

Once he was sure she was done, Dumbledore said softly, “I did what I thought was best; call me what you will, but I did what I thought was best. My only concern was getting Harry the support he would need through the years. It is true I gave hardly any thought to who I might be hurting, or how I was altering things to benefit my purpose but think about this: would Harry be the person he is today without your family? Without you?”

Ginny opened her mouth to reply but shut it, uncertain. She thought back when her mother had fed a scrawny looking boy, who’s eyes were amazed someone would care so much of a stranger. She remembered the joy in his eyes when he joked with Ron or the thankfulness when Hermione would once again check over his homework. She remembered the mischief in his eyes when the twins would show their latest invention.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “I-I’ve got to tell him — we can’t be together if it was forced!”

“But you two love each other.”

She shook her head sadly. “How do I know that, professor? All I know, his ‘true love’ could be out there, waiting for him. Remember? I wasn’t supposed to exist.”

Dumbledore looked at her, guilt on his face. “I told you this because you deserve to know the true nature of your birth. But, Miss Weasley, I will tell you this: never in my life have I met a purer love than the two you have. If I had not brought you, Harry might not be here today. And if he was, he could be with someone less, someone who could not handle him as you could.”

Ginny stared at him for a second before looking away. “It sounds so…so…”

“So cruel, I know. But I did what Fate wanted; I did what the world had to have; but overall, I did what Harry needed. He needs you, Miss Weasley, no matter how you were born or anything.”

The young girl went quiet for a moment before asking quietly, “How did you get us together? I never felt a presence in my mind, telling me to date Harry.”

Looking pleased that she seemed to be subduing, Dumbledore said, “Once your mother gave birth to you, I really couldn’t do anything to bring you two together so I let you both be. Then, when Harry turned eleven and needed to go to the train station, I had Hagrid leave him near the platform around the time the Weasleys would come.”

Ginny waited for him to continue but found he didn’t. “Well? What else did you do?”

“That’s all,” Dumbledore whispered, his eyes shining. “Don’t you see? If Fate had not wanted it to happen, it would’ve had some other family help Harry through that barrier. I merely helped Fate a little; gave it another option, which it chose.

“But Fate wanted your family to help, Miss Weasley. It continued what I had begun, yes, but it continued it because that’s how it was meant to be. I did not tell your brother Ronald to sit next to Harry. He did that on his own. I did not have Harry sorted; Fate chose it for him.”

“What happened to making your own destiny?” Ginny asked bitterly, her mind whirling with all this information.

The aged professor chuckled. “To some extent, you do; Mr. Malfoy could have chosen not to be part of the Death Eaters and accepted my protection. Harry could have easily refused all the tools Fate had given to him. He could even chosen not to be with you after the war.” Dumbledore leaned back in his portrait, looking pensive.

“Fate is quite the mystery that even I could not understand,” he said quietly. “It merely equipped Harry with what — and whom — he would need for the future. It was all up to Harry how and if he would use it.”

“So, Harry could have picked Cho Chang to love?” Ginny asked.

“No, no, no! Love is not ‘chosen’; it chooses who should love whom!” Dumbledore peered at her, a hint of a smile. “It chose you and Mr. Potter, like I had hoped all those years ago it would. The feelings you have for each other are quite real; nothing could have made you two feel something that you didn’t truly feel, not even the strongest love potion.”

“I’m sure you played with that idea,” Ginny shot quickly, quirking an eyebrow. Dumbledore laughed, and the tension lessened in the room.

“Just one last question,” she said. “How…how did you get my mum to get a girl?”

“Ah, a very interesting question. I love to spend the rest of the day explaining to you the complex idea but I will give you the shorthand version; I merely chose the sperm that held the most promise of being a girl. It wasn’t a concrete plan but it was the only one I did have at the time.”

“So I could’ve came out a boy after all?” Ginny asked.

A light shone in Dumbledore’s eyes. “But you didn’t. You see, Fate saw what I was doing and once again, helped further my plan. It might’ve originally had the same idea but if it hadn’t, I brought it upon its mind.”

Ginny rose, feeling as though she had aged. “I’m still mad,” she reminded the old headmaster. “In fact, I can not think of anything as underhanded as that.”

Happiness evaporated from the man’s face and he once again bowed his head.

“But,” she continued, a smile tugging on her lips. “I am happy you had a hand in helping Fate choose me to love Harry.”

Dumbledore smiled, proud tears shining in his eyes. “And an excellent choice it has proven to be. An excellent choice indeed.”

She turned to go, wanting nothing more to lie down and try —

“Will you tell him?”

Ginny turned around to face the old man that had led them to battle, had been kind, and was as much as a legend as Harry. Unspoken sorrow was on his face and she suddenly knew; Harry’s opinion of him was held highly in the old man’s heart, portrait or no portrait.

“No.” She saw the relief spread on his face. “I don’t want him to have a diminished image of you after all this. He loves you like a grandfather; I wouldn’t want anything less.”

Albus Dumbledore smiled. “I did right in choosing you, Ginevra Weasley.”

She half-smiled before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Sure, she might’ve started out being a mere pawn to help the king but now…now she was something much more.

“Hey, Gin.” Harry’s voice came to her from behind, and she turned, smiling. There he was, the savior of the wizarding world, with his boyish grin, sparkling green eyes, and messy black hair. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes, something the twins had put in there. There was loyalty, Ron’s doing, and an intellect that Hermione helped develop. Unconditional caring was there, something only her mother could achieve. A hint of childish innocence played in his eyes, quite like the one her father got when encountering new Muggle toys.

And there was the wisdom an old meddling fool had given to his pupil.

All of this was wrapped into this young man — her man, she thought smugly.

But what had she given? What part of him was because of her?

He gently took her hand, kissing the fingertips with a soft smile and a blissful look on his face. Peacefulness was etched on his features, something he only wore during the war when she was in his arms.

She had been his comforter, that “rock” he had fallen back on. She was, in all its blatant glory, his love that had kept him going, even at the bleakest and darkest of times.

As she allowed herself to be drawn into a kiss, she saw in his eyes what her family had started, had given him, and what she had brought to new heights and depths.

Love.

“What did Dumbledore want?” Harry murmured against her vibrant hair, his breath soft.

She smiled. “Oh, he was just being a meddling old fool, that’s all.”

She felt his deep chuckles vibrate through her as he faced her, his eyes bright. “Was he? I wouldn’t be surprised if he has my whole life planned out by now.”

Ginny smiled and instead of replying, kissed Harry deeply.

You have no idea.

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