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The day Harry left, Ginny had taken the boys to her parent’s house. Her mum complained that she hadn’t seen the boys enough and demanded that the boys stay until dinner.
It was a beautiful, peaceful Saturday. With her husband being called into work and no children that needed to be looked after, Ginny finally had one day to herself. She was reading her favorite book, lounging in the sunroom, and letting the sun hit her skin when the front door opened.
Looking up, she smiled when she saw that Harry was home early. They rarely spent some quality time these days. The last time they had sex was months ago, the constant presence of kids and their blooming but chaotic careers prevented them from taking some time together.
She missed him, Ginny realized as she watched him walk towards her. Sure, they saw each other every day and slept beside each other, but they haven’t been together in so long. They stopped taking leisurely walks, stopped going on spontaneous dates, and stopped pleasuring each other.
For the past several months, Harry was busy at work, staying late nights and going out on stakeouts. The boys missed him terribly but Ginny didn’t want to make it known to Harry, he was already too stressed. She didn’t want to become the nagging wife that made the husband retreat to his work even more.
“Hello, you,” Ginny greeted her husband, a huge smile overtaking her face. “I made some pasta, it’s on the stove, and the boys are at Mum and Dad’s until dinner.”
“Ginny, I have to tell you something,” Harry said grimly. Her smile waned, a curious look replacing it. “I just want to say before I tell you, I’m so sorry and I know that doesn’t even begin to cover it but it’s the only thing I can offer right now.”
“Harry, you’re scaring me,” she said, taking his hands in her. “Whatever you did, we can get through it together.” He pulled his hand back, using it to run through his hair, a nervous tic of sorts.
“I’ve been seeing someone else…”
Ginny’s breath stuttered. Her book was forgotten and her good mood dissipated in an instant. Her world shifted. Not in a poetic way, but in a physical, sickening way, making her head spin and want to hurl.
Harry was saying the same bullshit that cheaters said, but Ginny couldn’t process it. She felt like she was underwater, sinking at the bottom of the Black Lake, limiting her ability to understand.
“... didn’t mean for it happen and-”
Was he still talking? Ginny didn’t want to comprehend it. All she could hear was the blood rushing to her ears, her heart beating as if she’d just played quidditch for four hours, and her vision growing blurry. The sun was still shining on her face, but instead of finding it peaceful, she desperately wanted the sky and the clouds to weep in her place. The sunlight felt like a mockery of her situation.
“Who is it?” She whispered. Harry stopped his worthless excuses, bit his inner cheeks, and shook his head. A hot flash of anger came over her. Was he protecting his lover in front of the wife he cheated on? “You owe me at least that much. Is it someone from work? Is that why you’ve been working late nights and taking on extra workload? So you could fuck around behind my back while I was here trying to be the perfect wife and mother? Who. Is. It.”
“I can’t, Gin,” he said, going back to running his hand through his hair. “I can’t tell you and I won’t. I’ve just decided to tell you because they’re pregnant and I need to be with them.”
Ginny stood up, furious and broken and nauseous all at once.
“So, that’s it then?” she spat with ferocity. “12 years, 8 years of marriage, and two kids together, and you’re throwing it all away for some slag you knocked up?”
“It’s not a one-off, Gin,” Harry admitted. “I’ve been going behind your back for months. At first, it was just emotional, I swear, but it became something-”
Slap.
“Shut up,” Ginny pleaded, swallowing the growing lump in her throat. It was too much for her to hear and digest, her brain felt muddled like a hurricane had occurred. “Please stop talking. I don’t want to hear about how my husband and the father of my children fell in love with his whore. What are you going to tell the boys, then? ‘Sorry Daddy decided that a slag was more important to me than my family’?”
Even to her ears, her voice was ugly and raw. It carried all the emotions she was feeling, had a train hit her while going 100/mph, she thinks it would hurt less. Aside from the hurt, a foreign rage that she hadn’t felt since Fred died was building inside her body. It was threatening to release itself in the form of destroying everything Harry had ever touched and lighting the house on fire.
She could hear Harry’s breathing starting to grow rapidly, his nostrils slightly flaring as if he was now the one who had the right to be angry. She laughed, sarcastic and awful.
“Do you think you have the right to be feeling mad right now?” she hissed, harshly shoving him backward and making him stumble.
Harry deflated and then, “I’m sorry, I’m not mad. You have every right to hate me and never want to see me again. But, Ginny, I need to see the boys at least once a week. We can start there.”
Where did he get the audacity?
Ginny screwed up her nose in disgust, her picture of her husband following right before her eyes. The man in front of her was no longer her husband, the strong and courageous Auror that killed Voldemort, the caring and wonderful father that gave their kids piggyback rides, or the faithful and loving husband Ginny had married.
The man in front of her was weak, pathetic, and every bit of a coward. He was weak enough that he couldn’t resist going into the arms of another person while he was married, so pathetic he had been going behind her back for months, and such a coward that he didn’t have the guts to tell her sooner or value their vows.
“The boys will see you when it’s good for them, not for you,” she began, her hands clenched at her sides and forcing her eyes to stare directly at him. “I would never deprive my children of their father, even if you are a cheating bastard. I’ll be going to the Burrow now and if anything you own is not gone by the time we come back, I will throw it in the fireplace.”
Leaving him behind, Ginny took her car keys and walked out the door. She needed the long drive.
***
Telling her family had been anxiety-inducing, making Ginny curse Harry for the 100th time. She delayed it for the next Sunday morning brunch to reveal why Harry would no longer be joining them and why her children had not seen him for a week.
The previous week had been brutal for her. Fortunately, James and Albus were asleep when they walked into the house so they couldn’t ask any questions about why their father wasn’t home. She didn’t think she’d have the energy or heart to tell them the truth anyway.
The house looked normal, every decoration they bought together was still there. The pasta on the stove had gone so cold, and the book on the floor was still forgotten. Nothing seemed amiss, which tricked her mind into thinking that the conversation had never happened.
However, when she walked into their closet, her knees nearly gave up, wanting to buckle from the sheer emotional agony she was going through. Was this it? Was her marriage of 8 years thrown away like it was a shitty art project because of one bint?
Ginny shut the closet door, vowing not to open it unless she had to. That night, she couldn’t sleep, every cell and neuron in her body waiting for the strong arms to hold her or for the right side of the bed to dip, but it never came.
The next day, Ginny gave James some flimsy excuse when he asked about Harry. He pouted at her answer- something about work- but continued to eat his cut-up apples. Soon, James was moving around in his chair and Albus was whining from his high chair, wanting to be let out, for the first time since parenthood, she was glad for her kids’ cries and whining.
She didn’t need to worry about telling Albus, seeing as he was only one year old, but Ginny dreaded having to tell James that his mummy and daddy were most likely not going to live together anymore. She would have to tell him one day, but that day was not today.
She waited until all the kids were outside, playing with the new items George bought for them. The adults were sitting around the table, chatting about their careers and their plans, when Molly bought Harry up.
“Unfortunately, Harry couldn’t join us again this week, Ginny,” Molly expressed, her eyebrows drawn together.
Ginny took a sip of her tea, a fancy brand that Hermione had gifted her parents. The taste was bitter and too aromatic for her taste, but she needed it to calm her nerves.
“Actually,” Ginny cleared her throat. “Harry won’t be joining us for brunch or dinners or holidays anymore.” Her eyes focused on the mug in front of her, her hands shaking as she tried to take another sip.
“What? Why? Since when?” Ron asked, confused and worried at the state of his sister. He realized it’s been a while since he’d talked to Harry, he saw him at work but it felt like his best friend was avoiding him as much as he could.
“Well since he’s decided to shack up with some unnamed whore who is currently pregnant with his child,” she revealed, her tone biting and bitter.
Then several things happened at once. Hermione let out a gasp, Ron’s utensils fell, her mother’s eyes teared up, and the others started clamoring over each other, but amid the disarray, her father was sitting there, calm and poised as if he expected it to happen. When Ginny noticed this, she looked at him accusingly.
“Dad, did you know about Harry’s affair?” she asked, almost afraid to know the answer. The rest of the family looked towards him, expecting him to deny but he nodded instead. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long have you known?” She seethed.
“I thought it was Harry’s duty to tell you,” he answered, annoyingly calm. “I saw him with his…his lover, the day he told you. I told him that if he didn’t tell you immediately, I would.”
“Who is it? His lover, I mean.” Ginny didn’t want to know the question to this answer either. She knew Harry was handsome and wanted by many witches, but he had never paid attention to them. She didn’t want to know who was more of her than she would ever be to the point Harry strayed.
She had spent the past week in a constant state of gloom and insecurity, asking herself why Harry decided she wasn’t enough, whether the fat she had gained from her pregnancies had turned him off, or if she wasn’t paying attention enough to him. She also thought she must’ve been a masochist because she couldn’t help but imagine what Harry’s lover looked like or what she had that Ginny didn’t. No doubt, she was fitter and more gorgeous than herself, who was pretty but not gorgeous in a breathtaking way.
Despite it, there had been a time though when Harry had looked at her with stars in his eyes and he held her close in his arms, whispering how much he adored her and valued her. In the early days of their marriage, before the weight of two kids and their careers built an invisible wall between them, Harry had been the husband she dreamed of since she was a child. He spoiled her with gifts randomly, was attentive to her needs, and planned dates. He couldn’t bear to be apart from her for more than a few hours and even when their schedules didn’t align, he always made time for them.
Then, as if an onion was peeled slowly, their marriage started to change. It began with the birth of James, three years into their marriage. They still loved each other immensely and still made love when they could, never getting enough of each other. Yet, the anxiety and the hurdles of being new parents opened new arguments, new irks, and new annoyances they never bothered to address. When she voiced her concerns to Hermione, she merely waved it off and said it was normal and they would be fine.
And, they had been fine and thriving as a family. Three years after James’ birth, Ginny fell pregnant once more, and their son Albus was born. Ginny felt like her family was finally at a place she wanted them to be, her kids were happy and her husband was busy but attentive, just as she was. Never mind that they no longer had time for each other, Ginny had thought, they were happy with their life. But she was a fool.
“I can’t tell you that, Ginny,” Arthur said solemnly. “That’s not something for me to share.” Hearing her father say that forced the rage that had been threatening to bubble over for the past week finally spilled over. She felt as if hot and red angry lava was being poured all over her insides. Furious and rage weren’t even enough to describe what she was feeling.
“I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. I DON’T CARE,” she snarled, her voice rising in a crescendo, face ruddy, and her fist furiously slamming the table over and over again as she stood up. “I don’t care that you think it’s not something for you to share. My husband has been having an affair with some whore for the past year without any concern for our life or our children. Why is there consideration for him? Where is the consideration for me? Why are we the ones who have to suffer when he’s the one that did wrong? What did I do wrong? What did my children do wrong for their father to abandon them?”
Ginny dropped down on her seat, her hands in her hair, and when the rage settled and when the lava simmered down, she was left with nothing but the horrible pain and the ache that frequently settled over her.
“Why isn’t he coming back?” she asked no one, her voice as small and miserable as she felt. “He hasn’t contacted me in a week, hasn’t begged to see his children, or even asked about their well-being. It just seemed like he stopped caring, as if… as if we don’t… we don’t exist to him anymore. Are we… are we that easy to be thrown away?”
A sob tore out of her throat, her hands coming up to hide her face, and she continued to weep silently. Her family could do nothing but stand there, watching as she collapsed. The strong, confident, and bold woman they knew and loved was no longer there. In her place was a grieving, broken, and confused woman.
Slowly, Ginny felt hands coming over to hug her and she could smell her mother’s apron, prompting her to bury her face in her mum’s stomach.
“It’s not your fault, Ginny,” Molly said softly. “It’s okay to cry, mummy’s here. Everything is going to be fine.
With that, all of her initial inhibitions broke, and she wept like she never did in her mother’s embrace.
***
It was the second week of Harry’s departure when he finally sent an owl to ask how his kids were and if he could see them. The note was short and straightforward, but Ginny could see through his writing he was frustrated. 8 years of marriage forced her to know Harry like he was an extension of her, another half that was now gone.
She contemplated throwing his note out or tearing it up and sending it back to him, wherever he was, but she didn’t for her sons’ sake. The past two weeks had been harrowing for them, asking where their dad was and when they could see him. Some nights, James refused to sleep and told her he wouldn’t sleep until his dad came back. Ginny didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t coming back.
Ginny knew she was going to have to answer him, but purposely waited a few days. She didn’t want to make any of this easier for Harry. She would make it as hard as she could without dragging her kids into the mess. So with a messy scrawl of her own, she replied three days later. Informing him that she would drop them off at his new residence and that his slag should not be around until she left.
The new home of her husband (or was it ex?) was not that much different from their shared one, Ginny concluded as she stood stiffly in front of it. The house was a cottage-style house with a huge yard and white fences around it, perhaps the only difference was the pristine lawn and an air of elegance theirs didn’t carry.
The weather reflected her mood with the grey sky and dull clouds that threatened to release their own tears at any possible time. She couldn’t help but let out a wry smile at the irony, it seemed like the weather was constantly trying to make a mockery out of her.
Her boys were bouncing excitedly, squirming and swaying side to side with wide smiles. Ginny held their hands tighter, not wanting to let go of them. She wanted to turn back to her car and drive back to their cottage, with its homely smell and cluttered space that reminded her of good days.
Regardless, she gathered her Gryffindor courage and shelving away the anger and revulsion she felt for her children’s father, she marched onto the front door. Knocking irritably and continuously because she knew Harry hated that.
The door flung open and Ginny had to keep herself from doubling over in shock, because there stood in all his pointy-git-faced glory Draco sodding Malfoy, his face becoming paler by the second, if that was possible. Ginny’s eyes traveled down to his stomach, which was beginning to show a protruding belly. She didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry, maybe both.
Of course, of all the people Harry James Potter was having an affair with, it had to be Draco fucking Malfoy. The same bastard that was a death eater, bullied him for years, whose father took part in so many abhorrent acts, and the very same bastard that was indirectly linked to Fred’s death. Ginny didn't think Harry could’ve stooped any lower, but clearly, he continues to set the bar even lower.
This is repugnant, Ginny thought.
She didn’t know much about Malfoy outside of the rumors. Ron talked about him sometimes at the Burrow, talking about how he was strutting around the Ministry like he still had an esteemed name. Malfoy worked at the Ministry, Ginny knew, but it wasn’t a high position. He was a secretary of some sort, and there were always nasty rumors swirling around him. One popular rumor was that he was a glorified prostitute for the higher officials, passed around like a rag doll.
“Mummy, you’re hurting me,” James whined. That was when she realized she had been holding onto their hands too tightly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she released their hands. With a tight smile that could make a watermelon explode and a hoarse voice, she sweetly said, “Why don’t you two go find your daddy while I talk to your father’s who- new friend here, hmm?” The two boys nodded energetically and bounced off together, yelling “Daddy!” excitedly.
As soon as they were out of her sight, Ginny’s face crumbled into disgust and hate, a face she was sure Malfoy knew so well. She took out her wand and she could see him flinch slightly, but she merely scoffed and cast a Muffiliato charm.
“So you’re the home-wrecking slut that’s been fucking my husband, huh?” she sneered. “Of course, you’re pregnant, I wonder how that happened. Are the rumors true then?”
“What rumors?” he asked apprehensively.
Ginny raised her eyebrows, her hands clasped in front of her, and with a devious smirk, she sneered, “That you're a glorified prostitute for high ministry officials, of course. Guess they have a thing for death eaters, huh? Was my husband the sad little dupe that fell for your whorish charms and act?”
He reeled back as if he had been slapped, “Listen, Weasley-” Malfoy started. His face was flushed and his hands were still on his belly as if Ginny would actually hex him.
“It’s Potter to you, Malfoy,” Ginny interrupted, a hideous glee soaring into her when she saw the discomfort on his face.
“Right, Potter,” he corrected with a tense voice. “I should be saying sorry for shacking up with Harry and getting pregnant but I’m not sorry.”
“Excuse me?” Ginny’s face reddened.
“I do feel sorry for the kids and I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, but I’m not sorry for being with Harry,” he explained, his eyes passive and his hands going to his belly.
“Get out of the way, Malfoy,” Ginny ordered, her voice silent and dark. “I don’t want to hex you, not when you’re pregnant, so get out of the way so I can go talk to my husband.” Malfoy pursed his lips as if he was contemplating whether or not he should take her seriously, but two beats later, he moved.
Just as Ginny walked into the house, Harry came out with the kids clutched by his sides. He was listening to James’ animated rambling, telling him about everything that occurred since he left two weeks ago. When Harry met her eyes, Ginny saw the longing and the adoration in his eyes, not for her, but for the boys.
“James, why don’t you take your brother to play in your new room?” Harry suggested. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.” James looked like he wanted to protest but the prospect of a new room and new toys excited him enough to take his brother’s hand and skip to the room.
“I’ll just go back to the kitchen, then” Malfoy muttered. With his exit, Ginny and Harry were left alone for the first time since two Saturdays ago when he left.
“Ginny, you shouldn’t have said that,” Harry sighed. “I know you’re angry at me but direct it at me, not Draco, he’s… he’s got nothing to do with my decision.”
“Are you defending your fucking mistress in front of your wife and the mother of your children, for the second time?” She asked incredulously. When he started to open his mouth, she interrupted him. “I don’t need the answer, just tell me the truth. Is Malfoy a ministry slut that sleeps around with higher-ups and you were just the dumbass that fell in love?”
Harry's face contorted in anger, “Stop calling him that, and no! Draco is my boyfriend, not my whore or slut. I admit, I wronged you and the kids, I know and I will try my best to still support you financially and be there for my kids but leave him out of your anger.”
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, but instead of snapping back with more venom, she took in her surroundings. The living room was cozy and homely a drastic difference in the atmosphere from outside. There were books lined up on the wall, a set of deep blue couches with blankets and pillows neatly placed, there was even a telly above the fireplace and a beautiful rug underneath the coffee table. The house was decorated much more elegantly than hers, no doubt Malfoy’s influence, but other than that Ginny couldn’t help but recognize the house was so eerily similar to theirs.
“How many bedrooms does this house have?” she questioned, tilting her head. Harry seemed taken aback by her question and sudden change in subject.
“I, uh, think 5,” Harry replied.
“Hmm,” Ginny said thoughtfully as she began pacing the floor, walking around to look at the decorations more closely. “I’m guessing the kitchen is right over there with a door to the backyard, there’s a bathroom in two of the guest rooms and a backyard that’s bigger than the front lawn. Is there a spare room that you made into your office with walls being that hideous deep maroon color you love? You’ve still got your tea and your biscuits, Harry? Do you still leave your robes and socks lying around after a hard day even after Malfoy asked you to pick them up, just like I did? Do you still listen to the stupid radio when you do anything that requires focus because you claim it helps you?”
“What?” Harry asked, bewildered. “Ginny, you said you weren’t going to be here until an hour later, or else I would’ve opened the door.”
Ginny whipped around to face him, angrily walking over to him, “No, Harry. I’m so fucking happy that your disgusting death eater whore decided to open the door, and I’m so fucking happy that I saw your fucking house,” she spat.
He backed away from her, searching her face to see what she was getting at but came up with no conclusion. She could see from his face he was trying not to lose his temper as if he had the right to be upset with the name-calling.
“Ginny, I would’ve picked them up myself,” he said tightly. “I didn't think I had the right to go against your wishes so I kept quiet but if I knew seeing Draco was going to upset you this much, I would’ve come over instead.”
“Oh, you absolute idiot,” she ridiculed. Her tone was vicious and hard, Harry was going to know her pain today, even if it made him uncomfortable. “This isn’t about seeing Malfoy. This is about seeing what you were missing with me, why you thought straying and leaving your family was worth it. But, Harry, you didn’t fucking change a thing. You have a baby on the way, but you already have two sons with me. So it’s not kids you were looking for. You didn’t do anything new, you look exactly the same, and you have the same habits. You even live in a similar house with the same fucking layout. You’re not trying a new thing or leaving to experience a new wild exotic life, you packed and moved across the fucking town for the same exact life you were living. The one difference is who you’re doing it with.”
At the end of her tirade, Ginny was left with heavy breathing, her eyes were pricked with a new set of fresh tears, waiting to slip but she refused to let them fall. She’s been crying silently every night, sobs wracking through her body, not knowing what to do with the extreme amount of anguish she left. She would be damned if she let Harry and Malfoy see that side of her.
“For the past two weeks, I’ve been hoping it was a dream,” she continued. “I kept sitting there and hoping that you would come back and tell me you finally woke up to your senses, but you didn’t reach out. You just left us and threw us away like we were nothing but an inconvenience to you and your life.”
“Ginny, I-” Harry started, but she cut him off with a glare.
“I want you to know that you are a spineless bastard and a fucking coward. You and that ferret-faced-whore deserve each other. I hope to whatever god is out there that you don’t leave him for the next piece of ass you see because I don’t think he could handle it with the amount of grace and extreme self-control I did,” she swore.
Finally satisfied with herself, she gave him a final look of hatred, and promptly left the house without saying her goodbyes to her children.
When she went to pick them up after dinner, James and Albus were waiting in front of the porch steps, James’ hand was held by Malfoy, and Albus was carried by Harry. James was rapidly gesturing around the lawn, telling Malfoy something and he was listening attentively and nodding along.
For the first time since Harry left, Ginny felt the crushing weight of defeat swelling inside her. She might’ve told her family she wouldn’t take Harry back even if he came back, but she knew herself. She hoped he would come back, and she desperately hoped that seeing her would evoke some sort of clarity within him to go back to her. Buying a house and having a baby with Malfoy didn’t mean anything to her, the house could be sold and they could work around a spilt custody agreement. But, the sight before she confirmed what she knew deep down all along.
Harry was never going to go back to her, he would never be hers again in this lifetime. The pain of that actuality ached more than the pain of being betrayed by him in the worst way possible.
***
Why did he have to leave me? Ginny wondered.
She was lying on her huge, marital bed with a bottle of expensive wine on the bedside table. The kids were at Harry’s house, leaving time for her to wallow in self-pity and let wild imaginations run through her mind.
Her current thoughts were pondering why Harry left her. She could’ve lived with the affair and knowing she was sharing him with Malfoy. She would’ve accepted it, even if people looked at her with pity and scoffed at her stupidity for being with him still, she wouldn’t have cared. Her family would’ve tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t have listened. But, Harry didn’t give her that choice, because he just left, without any indication that he still wanted her.
It was so easy for him, she thought.
Why was it easy for him to leave her when she spent the past six weeks mourning him, their relationship, their fucking family? She wanted to curse him, hit him over and over again with her hands, and above all she wanted Malfoy to be miserable. She wanted him to feel her misery, she never wanted him to experience anything good ever again.
But, no, that wasn’t Malfoy’s situation, it was hers. He was at his cottage-styled house with the same layout as hers, with her kids, playing with them and cooking for them, with her husband, and a baby on the way.
While she was at her house, the living room cluttered with toys and shoes, the sink with a few or more dirty dishes, her hair greasy, a bottle of wine on her bedside table, and tears streaking down her face.
It wasn’t fair.
Even still, Ginny wanted Harry back. She would ignore the hell he put her through, pretend like she hadn't been locked inside her mind, and be the perfect wife and mum again.
She loves him, despite it all.
Truth be told, she hated that more than anything.
***
“You should meet someone new,” Hermione said with a small smile but Ginny could hear the tone of slight pity that everyone seemed to have when they spoke to her. She sipped her tea, Harry’s favorite that he left behind, no doubt his new house was already stocked with some. “I think it would be good for you. We all do.”
“I’m not divorced,” Ginny replied, focusing on the tea in front of her. It was lukewarm now, but she didn’t bother casting a warming charm. Everything in her life felt lukewarm lately. Her house, which was once filled with the happy voices of her children and her husband was silent. Her career, which once made her feel motivated and ignited a fire was now just an excuse to avoid everyone’s pity, whispers, and stares.
She hated it. Each day, she felt as if she was experiencing her life from outside of her body as if she was floating and her body was just moving on auto-pilot.
“I know,” her sister-in-law said with a sigh. “But, Ginny, he’s not coming back. I saw him the other day and he looked happy. You need to move on, it’s been two months. You can’t keep going on like this.” At those words, Ginny’s eyes narrowed in distaste, her lips pursed as if she just heard the most irritating thing.
Going on like what? She wanted to shout. She wanted to curse at her, tell her to fuck off to her house to her husband, who was still there and faithful to her. She didn’t want this. She wanted her family to be whole again, she wanted her husband back.
“Get out,” she said instead, her voice quivering. “How dare you come into my home and tell me that I need to move on after my husband left me for that fucking…” She didn’t finish her sentence, she couldn’t. Glaring at her mug, she grabbed it with unnecessary force and threw it in the sink.
“I know he’s not coming back,” Ginny said sadly, standing next to her sink and embracing herself. “I knew for a long time that he chose him, and left me.”
“Oh Ginny,” Hermione hugged her, “You have to know that we’re all so disappointed in him. We’ve all gone over to say our piece to him, and he just stood there, taking it and not saying a word. Your brother is still so angry, he can’t even look at him or talk to him without being a complete arse.”
Ginny laughed at that, she was warmed by the thought that Ron was so hurt on her behalf. She genuinely wasn’t sure whether he would take Harry’s side or not, but he had been by her side all the way. Talking to her, comforting her, and taking the kids out of her hands when she needed some time alone.
Harry had the kids during the weekends for now but she was sure he would ask for equal custody when the divorce proceedings came.
“It’s not easy to move on,” she said softly. “Sometimes, I just get this feeling that I need to move on but I can’t because some part of me is still hoping and yearning for him. I still think he’s going to come through the door and grovel at my feet, begging for forgiveness, and I feel so pathetic for thinking it would happen because I know it won't.”
Hermione let go of her and held her hands, “Ginny, pathetic is the last thing you should be feeling. It is not easy to move on, I know that, and I don’t expect you to even want to move on but I’m here for you. I will help you move on, no matter what it takes because you deserve that. You deserve better than Harry was willing to give you and you deserve more than him.”
Ginny sniffled, “Thank you, Mione. I think I’ll take that help when I’m ready for it, and I hope it’s sooner rather than later. I’m sorry for telling you to get out, I know you’re just trying to help.”
Hermione shook her head, “It was justified, Ginny. You don't have to apologize.”
The two women smiled at each other, and Ginny knew that this conversation, even if it didn’t heal her, made her want to start healing. She deserved better than longing for a man she no longer had.
***
Ginny hummed to the song on the radio as she drove down the familiar street.
The moon was out, accompanied by the brightly glittering stars. The trees were dancing with the wind and her windows were open, letting her hair flow with the breeze. As she parked on the driveway of the house, she made the split-second decision to walk up to the door instead of honking her horn.
It was the 12th week since Harry left. After her conversation with Hermione, Ginny decided that it was time to stop wallowing in self-pity and try to repair the damage he had done to her. It wasn’t fair to her boys to have a mum that was constantly out of it and it wasn’t fair to her. She deserved to be loved, to be cherished, and not thrown away so easily.
But to do that, she needed closure first, and not the kind where the couple just say something about forgiving, but a real conversation. She needed to know why.
“Oh hi, Ginny,” Harry opened the door, the surprise evident in his voice. “I’ll get the boys, Draco was just showing them how to… Nevermind. I’ll go get them.”
“No, don’t” Ginny stopped him. She walked inside for the second time and she noted several changes. The living room was now littered with various toys, roller skates next to the couch, and children's books strewn across the floor. “I wanted to talk to you because I need closure, Harry. I need it so I can move on and our kids won’t grow up with parents who hate each other.”
“Okay, let’s go to my office,” he suggested. When they entered the room, Ginny raised her eyebrows at the emerald green wall.
“I stand corrected,” she said.
Harry looked at her, confused, “Huh?”
“I said your office would be that deep maroon color, but it’s not.”
“Oh, yeah, Draco said it would be more homely so I didn’t argue,” he said, almost shyly.
“Huh,” Ginny wondered. “When I told you that the color was hideous, you put your foot down and told me it was your office so you got to decide.”
Harry fidgeted uncomfortably, not knowing how to respond. She took pity on him after several minutes.
“Anyways, I’m not here to talk about your house again,” she said. Almost calmly, she continued, “I want to know when your affair started, Harry. I need to know when you started pulling away when you decided to think with your dick, and why you decided to leave me.”
“Ginny, you have to know I never meant to hurt you the way I did,” Harry sighed. “It was all happening so slowly, by the time we fell in bed for the first time, I was pretty sure I was already in love with him.”
Ginny bit her lips, hard. “When was this? When did you have sex with him for the first time?”
“When Albus was 10 months old,” he revealed. “Before I told you about it, we were together for 4 months already but the emotional affair started way before. The first time we slept together was just confirmation of our feelings. I felt disgusted with myself because I knew I loved him and I wanted to leave you but I wasn’t brave enough. Once we found out he was pregnant, well I thought that was the big push I needed to get my shit together. The day your dad saw us, we had just come from the appointment and I guess he just picked up our behavior. But, I was going to tell you that day, regardless. It wasn’t fair to you, the kids, or Draco. I’m a bastard for it and I don’t even think I deserve your forgiveness. There’s no excuse for it. You were perfect. You were attentive, a great mum to the boys, and still are, you were loving, caring, and overall the perfect wife and mother. Yet, when I started getting to know him because of work and when we spent time together, it was like everything was beyond right. It was like all this time, he was who I needed, my savior. What I did was no fault to you, Ginny. I was just a bastard, and I’ll be atoning for it anyway I can because you didn’t deserve what I put you through. You deserve so much better, and infinitely more.”
Ginny’s tears fell rapidly as he went on, not caring that she looked vulnerable. His words were like a breath of fresh air to her, this wasn’t what she expected to hear. She expected him to deflect, to talk about how she was pulling away from him unconsciously, and how her nagging drove him to another’s arms. A small part of her was scared all along that maybe she had played a small part in it. Hearing Harry take the blame for everything and not offering any kind of excuse was a huge comfort.
She nodded, thinking working through her thoughts and trying to form the proper words.
“I…I…I think I need more time to file for the divorce,” she stuttered, trying to swallow the big lumps around her throat. “I need more time to accept it and to work through my anger and the hurt before I officially let you go. I will let you go, though. In due time. Hopefully, before the baby is born.”
“Yeah, of course, take your time, there’s no rush,” Harry exhaled, hesitating before timidly asking, “Do you think you could ever forgive me and we could be friends?”
Despite herself, Ginny laughed. “I don’t know if we’ll ever be friends, but I think I could forgive you. It will take a while because I’m still so so so angry and hurt but it’s going to happen someday and don’t worry about the kids, I won’t interfere in their relationship with Malfoy or their sibling. I’m not… not a total bitch.”
Harry chuckled. “I know you’re not, Gin. I meant what I said, I will try my best to show you that I am so sorry for the pain I caused.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Anyways, we need to get going. Early morning tomorrow and all.”
A small smile graced Harry’s face, and he might not be hers anymore, but he was still Harry, the same Harry she fell for all those years ago, and the Harry she still loved, the one she still knew. In that smile, she knew that Harry was thankful the conversation took place.
***
“James, what do you think of Daddy’s friend?”
“Draco? I like him. He cut our sandwiches really nice and plays with us when Daddy is busy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
***
“Mummy?” James tugged her apron. “Can Draco come to my birthday party?”
Ginny paused her stirring.
It’s been 5 months since Harry left, and their divorce was officially settled. By the time they signed the papers, Malfoy was seven months into his pregnancy and the boys were positively thrilled to have a sister. As painful as it is to hear them talk about the baby or how fun “Draco” is, Ginny refrained from making nasty comments. She wanted to be the better person, so her kids wouldn’t grow to resent her if they thought she stopped them from being with their dad or their sister.
Her family was a huge support to her over the five months, helping her completely redecorate the house so she wouldn’t remain resentful, going to Harry’s residence to talk with him, and keeping her company every time she needed it. She knew they were struggling with the divorce and Harry’s actions in their way, especially her mum, Ron, and Hermione.
Her mum had been so hurt she wrote a lengthy 10-page letter filled with her anger, disappointment, and hurt. In the end, Harry wrote an equally long letter filled with his shame for betraying Ginny and the kids, why he left, and the like. Ginny knew within a year or when the baby was born, her mum would reach out with a branch in the form of a baked pie or a baby onesie. She cherished Harry as her son, and Ginny didn’t think it was her place to force her poor mum into abandoning him completely for her sake.
Ron and Hermione were a different story. Hermione had been torn between going to Harry’s and talking to him and Ron’s anger and hurt. Ron was completely blinded by the betrayal and making snide comments at work. Everything came to a head when Ron decided to bang on their door in the dead of the night, at a time he knew Harry would be held up at his work, scaring Malfoy and assaulting him by punching his face.
Hermione had been appalled (as was Ginny because she did NOT condone punching a pregnant person, even if that person stole her husband) and when she went over to apologize on her husband’s behalf, she realized a little too late that Malfoy hadn’t mentioned the incident to Harry. He had been furious and went over to their house to launch punches at Ron. They were stopped by Hermione, who finally had enough and forced Ron to stay at the house, and followed Harry, wanting to hear Harry out.
After that, Hermione started to visit Harry more, and Ginny understood her. She didn’t want her problems with him to cause a friendship break-up between the three. She made sure Ron knew that too, even though it would take a while because of their stubbornness.
The reactions and the blowout from the family were nothing compared to the absolute chaos that broke out when the whole story was reported in the news. Neither party commented on anything and asked for privacy but the public had been particularly nasty to Malfoy.
The papers painted him out to be the sole antagonist of the affair, conveniently leaving out that Harry was the one with the wife and the kids, and Malfoy had no loyalty towards her. They called him so many nasty names that Ginny admits she called him, but she had the right to, the bloody papers didn’t. It got so bad, Malfoy didn’t step outside for weeks due to fear of being ambushed by a mob, the only time Ginny saw his pointy self was when he was waiting for the kids in front of their porch.
Ginny finally couldn't sit by and watch the attack continue anymore, feeling sorry for Malfoy when James mentioned how sad he was being, telling her, “He was so sad, mummy, I saw him cry in the bathroom” and begged if he could make some cookies for him. Sure, Malfoy stole her husband and interrupted her life but she knew he wasn’t the only one at fault and he was pregnant. The stress and the hatred were getting to him, and even if she hated the guy, her kids liked (maybe even loved) him. She decided to comment on the situation after a match, annoyed and angry at the constant pestering of the media.
“I’m not going to comment on a personal issue but I will say that the treatment of Malfoy in the papers has been abhorrent. I don’t need the papers to tell me that my husband is shacked up with another person, I know, and I certainly do not want a pregnant person to go through an already stressful time to deal with all of this. We all have moved on, my kids are happy, and whether they had an affair or not is no one’s business but mine, Harry’s, and Malfoy’s. We are separated and will be divorced sooner or later, so I think everyone should respect our privacy right now, thank you.”
The small comment threw everyone off the loop, questioning whether an affair had taken place or whether Harry and Ginny separated causing him to fall into Malfoy’s arms. She didn’t care enough to spend time commenting on it anymore. She was finally left alone and that was what mattered. Malfoy even sent back some baked goods from France with James with a thank you note, and if Ginny devoured the whole thing in a night, no one saw.
“Mummy?” James tugged her apron again.
“Sure,” Ginny said with a smile. “I will let you tell him that he can come with Daddy. Now, do you want chocolate cake or vanilla cake for the party?”
The huge smile on her son’s face was worth everything. Forgiveness was a journey, a hard one and she wasn’t there yet, but she knew she would get there one day. She could feel it close to her heart.
Letting Malfoy come to her son’s party was a start.