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The Potter Home, July 2006
James’ jumper. Of all things that caused this it had to be that bloody jumper of his. And likely what would’ve been a very brief unannounced visit by the ex-wife after she emerged from the fireplace, something he had never considered needing to change even after the divorce that left them barely capable of being civil at times, had instead turned into yet another row between them.
“Of all people, of all the people in the world Harry that you could be shagging it had to be that trollop,” Ginny’s enraged face spew at him as he stood on the other side of the dining room table.
“As though you haven’t had a couple of flings since.”
“The one who day after day gleefully laughed at our relationship troubles.”
“Well I wouldn’t say it was gleefully.”
“But no instead to you I guess that makes the hag all the more appealing to stick something in.”
“I am right here you know.”
“I know, that’s the bloody problem,” Ginny threw out, turning to face the other woman for the first time since she arrived who just continued to smile back. Pansy’s habit of trying her luck might be something he typically found amusing but right now he didn’t think her defence mechanism of snarking back was going to end well for any of them if the sound of glass cracking from the kitchen sink was anything to go by. During their final rows before divorce neither of them had needed their wands to send objects magically flying into walls.
“Pans, please could you give us some space,” he rather carefully asked, giving her a slightly pleading look.
“Yes Parkinson, could you ever so kindly fuck off. Permanently if possible,” Ginny glared at the other woman.
Pansy for her part looked between them before sauntering over to him and leaning in, pressing a kiss to his lips before he could warn her off. He felt her tongue prod at his closed lips trying to get him to play along but he remained resolute. Not giving up the raven-haired woman pulled away only to slowly drag a hand across his cheek, “I’ll be in the conservatory,” before turning and walking close past the other woman who at this point was shaking with pure rage.
Neither of the two still in the dining room spoke for some time before Ginny finally broke the silence, still standing as far away from him as she could while remaining in the room, “so when exactly were you planning on making me aware of this?”
Harry deflated at that, the situation being one that he had tried to avoid having to deal with at any point, “I don’t know, in a few more weeks maybe once we were sure this was really long-term.”
“So… you been shagging that narcissist for a while then,” Ginny threw with venom at the hidden admission from his words.
“I don’t see why it’s any of your concern how long…”
“It is my concern Harry when it involves the house where my son lives.”
Harry’s back was forced to straighten at that, “oh please Gin, you didn’t feel the need to inform me that you were sleeping with some Quidditch star in between weekends with James did you.”
“This is different Harry, and you know it!”
Harry took a step forward at that to lean himself on the back of one of the chairs, “how. How exactly is it any different to you taking what… three weeks after you told me you wanted a divorce to appear splashed on the papers with a new bloody lover.”
Ginny went from whatever reduced state she was at back to her full on anger at that, closing the distance on her end while keeping the table solidly between them, “don’t you dare put that on me. Just because I had the guts to say I wanted out because you couldn’t do better than, what, sleeping in a different room for months on end and avoiding the fact our marriage was dead.”
“Right then, so what exactly is wrong with me dating someone a year after we’ve been divorced them?”
“Because it’s her,” she practically shouted into his face as she leaned over the table before taking a step back, “that wicked evil cow who along with her snide, superior friends at that paper of hers who for weeks tore every aspect of my life apart. Painted me as this hussy gold-digger who was in it for your money even though I got nothing from the divorce, rumours about how I slept my way to my position with the Harpies, and dogged me every time I went into Diagon,” she continued, her eyes becoming watery as she went on, “I’d have been happy with just about anyone else you met but no somehow you decided to sleep with the woman who if you hadn’t forgotten tried to have you killed!”
Harry should’ve expected that line of attack far more than he did, remembering the way in which his divorce turned into a field day for every scrap of paper sold in a shop as every little look or choice of clothing had been turned into some statement of intent no matter how absurd. And as much as he had felt under the microscope he knew resentment and jealousy had seen his ex-wife targeted far more than he was.
Worst of all was he knew on some level he’d enjoyed that at the time.
“She’s not like that, not anymore. None of us have exactly ended up being the people and leading the lives we thought we’d get after all that happened have we,” Harry sighed in untargeted bitterness, “if who she is now makes me happy why can’t I just have that?”
“I doubt you’d be so high-minded and blasé about this if I got with Malfoy somehow but fine, whatever do what you like,” Ginny seemed to concede harshly, twisting the knife she had planted in him with the previous attack, before turning to no doubt grab the item she came for, “if you want to play with fire and get taken to the cleaners that’s your business but keep my son out of it.”
“They’re going to have to meet soon Gin if we’re still together, regardless of your childish issues with her,” Harry shouted after her as he watched her stomp up the stairs before moving to wait for her at the bottom. After a while of hearing no movement however he slowly made his way up the stairs. As he walked down the landing to his son’s room all he could here was the heavy sound of his footsteps before peaking around the door left ajar, finding Ginny sat on the bed. As much as he hated dealing with Ginny as she’d been so far, fiery, angry, and hellbent at taking down anything that got in her way, he hated seeing her as she was now even more as she sat almost limply on the edge of the bed looking completely defeated while holding the offending garment in her hands.
“You know I want more than anything for this to be easy Harry, for at least James’ sake if not ours,” Ginny softly spoke without lifting her head as he stepped into the room, seating himself on the bed with a large gap between them.
“I know you do, but you can’t expect my own life to turn out the way you’d want it to be where you get a say over my partners. And I wouldn’t be able to do the same the other way.”
“Yeah,” Ginny sighed before leaving the room in silence, “I’ve really showed just why we didn’t work out again haven’t I?”
Harry snorted at that before taking the jumper from her limp hands, “I don’t think either of us can say we’ve proven ourselves to be the most mature of people today. It’s a miracle James has coped as well as he has with all this.”
“He shouldn’t have had to in the first place. Sometimes I can’t help but think we should’ve just stuck it out for his sake,” Ginny spoke with little belief in herself.
“It never would’ve worked, he already saw enough of us arguing to last a lifetime. Only would’ve made things worse in the end,” Harry assured her, his own attempt at that before the divorce where he kept as many rooms as possible between the issue as it grew and grew before then refusing to move on after the wardrobe was left empty pointlessly hoping she’d come back having only delayed the inevitable. As he shifted the material in his hands he could feel Ginny’s eyes on him.
“It wasn’t all bad, was it?”
Harry stupidly turned to her and immediately he was forced to remember those increasingly distant memories of their marriage, still able to picture the days he’d sit with her and watch the wide smile that would grace her face as her brown eyes shone with such life. How they’d dream of exactly where they’d be in so many years time, how many kids they’d have and what they’d be when they grew older, and promising each other that through thick and thin they’d stay true to each other. It was a far cry now from the tattered remains of their relationship as disappointment and guilt half-hidden littered both their faces, “what ifs” that remained unsaid for all of time, and the nagging doubt that maybe it had all been the worst mistake they could have possibly made. It was a doubt he always tried to keep at bay, “of course not. It just wasn’t ever enough though was it, to paper over the cracks.”
“No, it wasn’t was it,” Ginny sadly smiled before taking the jumper back from him and getting up, “if you want James to become aware of this relationship as well I’ll accept that, but I’m not going to pretend I think Parkinson is a good idea for either of you.”
Harry knew better than to push further, knowing that Ginny would never agree to any terms but her own, “I can live with that. Just don’t think I’m doing any of this to get back at you for anything.”
“Ok,” Ginny gave him with a not-completely believing glance as she led them back downstairs, “I should get going before James wonders why I’ve been gone so long. Please take care of yourself Harry,” she asked of him, appearing to be conflicted just as he still was about just what level of affection if any they could manage to show for each other now.
“You too,” he replied as he watched her step into the fireplace again.
“Lovely as always Ginevra, take care not to trip on that high-mindedness of yours,” he heard Pansy shout from the adjoining glass-room as the flames roared and his ex-wife disappeared. Harry took a moment to collect himself before stepping into the conservatory, wanting to avoid arguing for a second time that day.
“Did you really need to make that so difficult,” he pointedly asked her, irritation growing as he watched the smile on her face as she sipped at her wine glass.
“I don’t know, when your ex-wife swans around a house that isn’t hers trying to dismantle my relationship I think it’s warranted truth be told,” she slyly let out before putting on a slightly disbelieving look, “you’re not putting me in the doghouse over this are you? I’m afraid I’m not really into that sort of kinky stuff sadly.”
Harry let out as huff as he made his way over to her, “you really don’t stop do you?”
“No, and you wouldn’t want me to would you,” she intoned with a knowing inflection. Harry just shook his head slightly while he seated himself on the cushioned bench beside her before lying down on it with his head laid on her soft lap, her free hand moving to slowly stroke his hair as she more softly asked, “you want to talk about what just happened?”
“Not really,” he spoke as he let himself deflate and relax, “she is right about what you said in the papers though.”
“I think you’ll find that’s somewhat overstated. We covered her yes but she makes it sound like it was only her being covered and not everyone who is having public bust-ups at any point in time. Also we reported on favouritism at the Harpies, not some torrid sex rumours. A report by the way that did find her contract was rather enlarged compared to several teammates of hers,” she lectured staring down at him. While her style of reporting may sometimes be hard to call serious in tone he’d learnt that suggesting it was conjured up was a quick way to her bad side.
“I’ll take your word for it,” he laughed meeting her gaze, the pair clearly studying each other’s faces for a moment, her hand stopping its comforting for a moment.
“You still love her don’t you,” Pansy asked knowingly, her face staying rather neutral to him even as her eyes betrayed her unease.
“There’ll always be a part of me that will even after everything that happened, all the things we said to each other and did to each other. I know what an amazing person she can be at her best, it just turned out that I’m not the person who brings that out of her,” he sadly explained.
“They never do tell you that’s the hardest bit do they,” Pansy spoken in understanding. They hadn’t really spoken about her past relationships, an inherently unfair situation he knew given how she would always be reminded of his, but he knew she’d had her own share of disappointments.
“I’m not going to ask you to be her friend Pans but can you just try and not make things worse outside of work. It’s going to be hard enough as it is with Ginny and her family once this becomes more established and the last thing I want is James having to deal with the effects of a public falling out,” he asked, “he’s been through enough as it is.”
“Well I won’t ever pretend to like her but I’ll keep out of her way if it makes this easier,” she said putting her now empty glass down. Harry took her now free hand and gently squeezed it.
“Thank you,” he smiled gently as he stroked his thumb along her hand, “though I guess that leaves the other obvious question doesn’t it.”
“Of James. Well we have been dating four months now and unless you’re about to shock me with some unwelcome revelation I would say that looks set to continue so I suppose I should be meeting him by this point.”
“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I mean we can always leave it off,” Harry started until Pansy pulled their joined hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his.
“It’s fine Harry, I want to meet him. Or rather meet him more than any brief passing in Diagon prior to now. I’m sure he’s warm and kind and annoyingly stubborn just like his father,” the woman teased.
Harry just smiled and squeezed her hand again, “how did you ever convince anyone you were anything but a softy at heart?”
“Yes, yes Harry. Now if you’re done with thinking you’re redeeming me and sanding down my rough edges maybe you can sit up and show me why I should be sacrificing my weekend here,” she sighed with mock indignation, causing him to grumble but sit up anyway. He pulled the smaller woman into his lap, unable to now prevent himself from returning the smile that she wore before closing the gap between them, tongues meeting this time as they both leaned into each other. As he let his eyes close he felt her pull away.
“One thing Potter, if you are doing this just to get back at her then it won’t be her you should be scared of,” Pansy mock-threatened him, “and I better be getting a reward for being the perfect girlfriend you know.”
“Duly noted,” he laughed.