PROLOGUE

Murphy's Law

He stood up and yanked open his sock drawer. There, buried amongst all his mismatched socks, was a small little box. Grasping it in his hands, Harry turned back to Ginny, whose face widened in shock. He knelt down beside her.

"Ginevra Molly…" he started.

She grimaced. "Please don't call me that!"

"Sorry," Harry apologized. "Ginny, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

"A thousand times over, Harry, yes."

Harry raced down the hallway of St. Mungo's, his heart beating a violent tattoo against the bones in his chest. Before he could get to the fifth door on the left, however, Molly Weasley intervened. She stood before him so that he had to slide to a halt on the white linoleum floors. Although she was a good foot shorter than him, she grasped his shoulders with every bit of authority she could muster. Her brown eyes were stern but understanding. They reflected the same concern and anxiety that was currently rushing through Harry's body.

"What happened?" he asked desperately.

"She fell," Molly said. "The Healers are with her right now, but you can't go back yet. We'll know more in a bit."

It was then that Harry noticed just how much he was shaking. He collapsed into one of the chairs that lined the walls, running a hand over his face and into his hair, nearly dislodging his glasses in the process. Molly sat down in the seat next to him, one gentle hand resting on the curve of his spine. They were not alone. Charlie sat in the chairs opposite them.

"Did you see it?" Harry asked, his voice raspy.

Charlie looked nearly white as ghost. "Yeah. It was bad."

"What happened?" Harry repeated.

"She and the chaser from France both went for the Quaffle at the same time. They collided mid-air. The other guy managed to hang on, but Ginny lost her grip. She hit the ground head-first."

Harry moaned, dropping his head between his knees. "Why didn't the safety spells catch her?"

"The fact that she's still alive means they were working," Charlie said.

There were several more voices coming from down the hallway, and Molly rose to intercept them as well. The first to arrive was Ron, who was pale beneath the splash of freckles across his nose. Seconds behind him, and panting slightly, was Hermione. Like Harry, she had come from work. The Ministry badge still sat on the front of her robes.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded. "Someone on the radio said that she had been injured!"

"She fell," Charlie repeated. "Hit her head."

Hermione clutched a stitch in her side. "Oh shit," she breathed.

If the situation had been different, Harry might have teased her for swearing, which she rarely did. However, with Ginny's fate still unknown, he could do little more than rock back and forth in his seat. His hands were practically knotted in his unkempt hair. "I should have been there," he said.

"Don't be stupid," Ron replied, dropping into the seat on Harry's other side. "You wouldn't have been able to catch her."

"She was killing it, too," Charlie added bitterly. "Scored ninety points on her own. Damn France."

They waited for what felt like an eternity to Harry before a Healer stepped out into the hallway, peeling off sterile gloves and sticking them into the front pocket of her lime green robes. She was an older witch, maybe a few years past Mrs. Weasley, but she looked important. Her graying blonde hair was pulled back into a severe chignon at the base of her neck. Harry, Molly, Charlie, Ron, and Hermione all stood up immediately. The Healer looked a little alarmed to see so many people at once, but she recovered quickly in time to say: "Who can make medical decisions for her?"

"That would be me," Molly said shakily. "But this is her fiancé, Harry. He should be involved as well."

"Okay," she said. "I am Healer Serafine Ludy, and I will be in charge of looking after Ginny. Would you come with me?"

Harry shot Ron and Hermione a desperate look before he followed Molly and the Healer out of earshot from the others. The suspense was killing him; he wanted to demand answers, but the words were stuck in his throat. Harry was afraid that if he opened his mouth right now, he might vomit instead.

"She's alive," said the Healer.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Molly breathed.

"She's still being worked on right now, though. You'll be able to see her soon."

Molly, at least, was not afraid to ask the questions that Harry couldn't voice. "How bad is she?"

"Not great," Healer Ludy admitted. "She took a very nasty fall, and she's lucky to be alive. She broke her back and her right leg in two places. She also sustained a pretty severe concussion. We can fix the broken bones easily enough, but she did a lot of damage to her spinal cord. In fact, she severed it completely."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that if she were a Muggle, she'd never walk again."

Her words hung in the air for a moment while Harry took the time to process exactly what she meant. He couldn't claim to be an expert on medical science, but he knew that the spinal cord was very important. The thought of Ginny being unable to walk for the rest of her life made his head spin. He swayed on the spot, and Molly reached forward to grip his arm in reassurance.

"But she's not a Muggle," he managed to say.

The Healer nodded. "Exactly. We were able to reconnect her spinal cord."

"Will she make a full recovery?" Molly asked.

"We are not sure yet. Regardless, she'll be in therapy for a very long time."

Harry swallowed. It was painful work. "Worst case scenario?"

"Limited mobility, residual pain," Healer Ludy replied, shrugging. "In a worst case scenario, she might never play again or she might be unable to have children."

"Right," said Molly quietly.

The Healer took note of their shocked and terrified faces, and she quickly continued: "But we are optimistic that she will make a full recovery. She's definitely out for the rest of the season, but she's young and tough. I've seen her play. I think she'll surprise us. Now, Mrs. Weasley, if you'll help us fill out some paperwork..."

Harry staggered back over to his chair and collapsed, letting Molly explain the situation to the other three with a clipboard balanced on her hip. The Healer had given them a lot of information, some of which he couldn't even consider processing at the moment. The important part was that Ginny was alive and would get better. He would worry about the other stuff later.

Hermione dropped down to kneel in front of Harry. "Are you okay?"

Harry could only nod.

"I'm going to go let the others know before they find out like we did. I'll be back in a minute."

"Okay," he managed.

Hermione left him, the tail end of her cloak snapping about her heels as she hurried off down the opposite end of the hallway. Molly and Charlie were silent, and Harry was left alone with the dark thoughts that always crept in the background of his consciousness. What if Ginny had died? After all that she had survived, she could have been bested by a freak accident at a Quidditch game. He, Harry, would have been all alone. All his past endeavors, all of his hard work over the last few years in the Auror department, would have been reduced to nothing. They meant nothing in comparison to Ginny. He would have been alone.

"Tea?" Ron said, passing him a styrofoam cup.

"That was fast."

"Yeah, I'm a man of many skills. Drink up before Hermione comes back and fusses at me. Oh, and I asked somebody in the break room. Looks like England still won after all."

Harry tipped the lukewarm tea down his throat with not much enthusiasm. It did help, but only marginally so. The door on their left opened once again, and he jumped up as though he had been waiting for it. It was the same Healer from before. She beckoned for both Molly and Harry to come inside. He dumped the rest of his tea and the cup into the nearby rubbish bin, and then he followed Molly into the room.

"Low voices," warned the Healer. "She's on a lot of pain potions right now."

Ginny was lying in a bed in the middle of the room. Several of her limbs were bound tight with bandages. Her face was blotchy, bruised, and swollen in places. She also appeared to be barely conscious because her eyes kept rolling back into her head. Harry looked at her ginger hair, spread out like a fan against the pillow. He could still see the bend from the ponytail she liked to wear on game days. Molly conjured a set of chairs from nowhere, and he took a seat next to Ginny's head. He longed to reach out and hold her hand, but he didn't want to hurt her even further.

"Harry," Ginny said, her voice weak and uncertain. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"Did we win?"

Harry exchanged a glance with Molly, who looked torn between amusement and exasperation at the seriousness at which Ginny had asked the question.

"England won," Harry told her.

"Good," she replied, fading back into unconsciousness. "Damn France."

And then she was asleep, and there was nothing but the steady drip of pain potions and the hum of healing magic to fill the silence.

A/N: Full Steam Ahead is a continuation of my other story "Babysitting Teddy", although it is not necessary to have read that story before reading this one. Essentially, the only thing you need to know is that Harry and Ginny are engaged. Also, Ginny made the English National Team. I will continue writing Toy Soldier while I work on this one. Toy Soldier is more serious/darker, so I needed a fun project to distract me. Thanks! I hope you enjoy! -Silver