Edited and improved. Sorry to anyone who really fell in love with the old version, but my creative mojo has led me in a new direction, and so chapters 1 through 3 have been extensively edited, or entirely replaced. Also, I have attached new art to this fic; it is a painting by Eleatta Diver called 'A Broken Dream'. I fell in love with the piece (now the proud owner of a print of it) and thought is fitting for this story. Enjoy.

Finding Our Way

- Part 1 -

Dreams Asunder

To the World you might be but one person;
But to one person you might be the World.

Chapter 1: The Boy Who Laughed

In the frantic maternity ward of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, another family was immune to the rare and wild beauty of the storm outside. Lying on a soft hospital bed, with more than one anxious healer tending over her, and an equally worried host of redheads at a safer distance, was Molly Weasley.

Her Husband, Arthur, was crouched by her side, and holding her hand. He'd barely parted from her in the past eleven days, since she'd been admitted. It had come as a shock to Molly as much to him, when her water had suddenly broke the day of the 31st but that in and of itself was not what had them really worried. Still as a precaution they had headed to the hospital.

It was later that night, in the hours before midnight that problems started developing. Molly had gone into a premature labour, which wasn't all that worrisome considering they'd had six before. Even so, their little baby was almost a month before it was due. Still, this wasn't what was causing the worry; it was the speed with which things were taking place. The healers had felt that something was almost forcing the birth, and Molly had been in such terrible pain. He supposed that if this were the Muggle world they would have done some kind of operation with a name he couldn't pronounce to remove the baby, but in the magical world this was just not done.

"We're ready." The soft but tense face of the head healer broke his reverie and Arthur nodded once in response, a silent but unmistakeable plea to get it over with.

The healers had put Molly and the baby in a stasis and slowly and carefully manipulated the baby in a magically artificial form of labour. It had been a slow and agonizing eleven days since, but the Healers could do no more, for without Molly's body naturally assisting in the birth they were at risk of hurting her if they did too much. All in all, from where Arthur sat now, as the Healers prepared to revive Molly for the final few minutes, it had been a better outcome than most. It was not uncommon for magically treated labours to last for more than two weeks, with some of the longest stretching for three. It was also a definite improvement on Muggle methods; he shuddered at the thought of his Molly being cut open for the baby to be pulled out. As fascinating as Muggles were, the Muggle pregnancy books he'd pored over contained some horrific methods, however they quickened the process.

No, all things considered the nightmare of the last few days had turned out better than anyone could have hoped.

A loud groan split the tense air, and was met with smiles all round by the Healers. As one of them softly spoke into Molly's ear, and midwife encouraged her to push, Arthur took up his wife's hand. Their eyes met for a moment and a small smile passed between them, before a scream and a grimace. The minutes passed like seconds as Arthur watched his wife's face. She didn't speak or curse, everything had been said the six times they'd been here before. Molly screamed a final time, before seeming to collapse, exhausted. She smiled fully now, looking at something over his shoulder before her eyes slowly closed, and her breathing evened out.

So focused was he on her, that he didn't notice the Healer speaking quietly, "Here's your baby girl."

It was only when the child was placed in his hands, wrapped snugly in a towel that his attention was drawn away. "Is he alright?" Arthur murmured, already expecting what the answer would be.

If the Healer was in any way annoyed at having to repeat herself, she didn't show it. "Completely healthy, apart from the fact your baby's a girl."

Arthur was shocked, and his face mirrored it. Without thinking he said the first thing on his mind "But how? I'm a Weasley!"

"And I'm a Dobson" the healer replied with some amusement. "It's still a fifty-fifty for all of us." She watched as he turned back to his wife. "She'll be out for another couple of hours, while she won't be as sore as after regular labour, the magic has still taken a lot out of her. Have you decided on a name?"

Arthur didn't lift his eyes from Molly as he thought out his answer. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined that he'd have a little girl. After six sons he had been sure the Weasley curse had been passed onto him too. And while he and Molly had always decided on their sons names together after birth, he knew Molly had always wished to have a little girl. While she loved all of their sons, she had dreamed a whole life out for her little Ginevra.
So "Ginevra" he answered to the Healer. "Ginevra Molly Weasley." It was easy to forget the growing darkness as he held his little Ginny.

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.:✯:.

August 11th dawned miserably over Godric's Hollow. The weather was most uncommon for the time of year, a rare summer thunderstorm swept the country side, and even the majesty of the lightning was dulled by the early grey light of dawn. The constant drizzling rain for near two weeks on top of that did little to raise the Potter's spirits in their hidden refuge from Lord Voldemort.

Strangely however, one Potter seemed singularly unaffected by the dreary day. A newly one year old Harry had been sitting up in his crib for several hours, almost rapturously focused on something beyond the storm brewing outside the house. He had always been sensitive to the weather, most magical babies were, but today his baby mind was singularly unworried.

Lily in fact was starting to worry for him, he hadn't eaten or drunken anything, and he'd been awake all through the night. He had been strangely tense in the days since his birthday, but now it had gone beyond strange, and Lily was at a loss for what to do. She had checked him repeatedly, using a variety of spells as well as mundane methods to try and find what was wrong with him, but couldn't find anything. She allowed herself to relax slightly as James' soothing hands massaged her shoulders, but the look of concern never left her face.

"He's fine darling" James assured her, but her mother's concern was causing her to become frantic.

"He's just sitting there James! He won't eat, drink or sleep – he's been fixated like this for hours, he won't even respond to me!" Lily choked back a sob, and felt James's arms wrap around her strongly.

"He's fine Lil'" James continued to rub soothing circles across her stomach now. "If he doesn't change or shows any sign of getting worse then we can call Sirius, but until we know something's wrong, let's not worry"

His quiet voice did much to calm her fears, but she was still worried. He was too, as much as he tried to suppress it she could hear the tension in his voice which belied his concern, concern which stopped her from snapping at him with her famous temper.

It was approaching five in the morning, and the storm was at its worst. The rain beat furiously down across the country side; make its loud presence known against the roof of the house. Lightning arced across the sky in an impressive display of natural power in an altogether unnatural storm, but this was beyond even Lord Voldemort. It was a rare case of natural magic, and more powerful than any on record, yet in the potter household no one was paying attention to it.

James and Lily were both staring in relief as they finally saw a change in Harry. His focused baby expression had dissolved into a warm smile and he was suddenly laughing joyously, and the tension in his parents leaked away.

With most of the worry fading from the two parents they finally noticed the storm around them. "I hope the old girl is holding out in the storm" James muttered.

"Oh stop worrying about your castle, will you?" Lily snapped good naturedly, finally releasing the stress of the past eight hours. "It'll be fine. You'd think any normal person would be more worried about his son"

"He's fine, he was fine all along" James grumbled, smirking despite himself. "Weren't you buddy?" he deftly swung a still laughing Harry high into the air, and joined in his merriment. "Wonder what you're so happy about?"

The shock came to both his parents when Harry opened his mouth, as if to answer James' rhetorical question, and spoke. He only said one word, and both of them later dismissed it as baby nonsense, but it was undeniably his first word. Smiling, and still seemingly staring into space, little one-year-old Harry replied; "Ginny".

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