I was simultaneously looking forward to the children coming home and dreading the moment they'd step off the Hogwarts Express; I longed to wrap their love and the normalcy of having them home around myself like a protective blanket, but I was utterly petrified that they'd know immediately that things had changed between Harry and me. It was almost as if I now had a neon sign blinking above my head that said, "Shameful Divorcee Status Pending".
Thursday night, as I prepared for bed in my temporary quarters in the spare room, I studied myself in the mirror for some physical manifestation of asking Harry for a divorce. Strangely, aside from the hollow eyes and sallow skin I'd gotten as a parting gift from several restless nights, I looked the same as I always had. Long red hair, laugh lines around my mouth, freckles. Check. I still looked like a woman that had a wonderful life, but inside, I felt like damaged goods.
Setting aside my hairbrush, I crawled beneath the crisp linens on the guest bed and sighed as my stomach continued to do nervous somersaults. Yes, having the children home would be wonderful. I kept telling myself that until I fell into a fitful sleep.
The day before the children arrived home from Hogwarts for their Christmas break found me back at Madeleine Pearson's for another meeting of the gardening club.
Just because I had almost no experience cultivating my own plants didn't mean I had to go empty-handed; after all, Harry and I certainly had enough money between us to pay for the dozen poinsettias I swung by Glenbaum's Garden Grotto for. If nothing else, it would be nice to give those lovely old ladies -and Draco Malfoy- a little token of appreciation for opening their ranks to me with such warmth. Checking the Shrinking Charm on the flat of plants in my handbag a final time, I rang the front bell at the Pearsons'.
"Ginny, dear," Madeleine said sweetly, sweeping the door wide and ushering me in. "You're just a tad early. I don't suppose I could ask you to give me a hand setting out the biscuits for everyone, can I?" She flapped her hands. "Lindar -my husband- gave both of the house-elves this weekend as their holiday time and forgot to inform me of that until this morning, when I found him trying to make his own coffee. Batty old thing, my Lindy, doing that to me on a day I had the club coming, but what can you do?"
I smiled back at her. "Of course; I'd love to help." Those members of the older generation that had house-elves, though quite nice about Hermione's house-elf rights legislation, seemed particularly at a loss when their servants were away. I was frankly surprised old Lindy hadn't managed to blow both himself and the coffeemaker up. There was an article in the Daily Prophet awhile back about an elderly gentleman that, in his elf's absence, attempted to brew his daily coffee in his potions cauldron. Apparently, caffeine and batwing residue combined at a vigorous boil is highly explosive. Who knew?
As I helped her set out the refreshments and straighten the doilies on her armchairs, I smiled to myself. For some inexplicable reason, being here washed away the worries of my deteriorating home life. At least for a little while.
Let's hear it for the gardening club, a brilliant distraction from the real world.
Everyone cooed over their poinsettias and I smiled fatly. It was an excellent idea, if I do say so myself.
"Ginny, love, have you started sketching out the dimensions of the garden you'd like to establish yet?" Gladys Findlepan eyed me eagerly over the eyeglasses perched on the end of her nose. "Being winter and all, it's a perfect time to study your land without foliage and underbrush cluttering up your view."
Well. Yes, I suppose it was a natural assumption that I would be planning my future garden if I was joining a garden club. Damn. I knew I'd forgotten something. Really, I'd only joined to get out of the house; the specifics of it never really crossed my mind. That in itself should speak to my mental state these days.
"Er, actually, I'm still studying the layout. No sketches yet, and with the children home for Christmas, I won't get to that for a bit yet. I will, though, as soon as I have the chance." Yes, I'm aware that I ramble badly when I'm nervous.
Miss Jo, who had never copped to having a surname, asking instead to be addressed as 'Miss Jo' or 'Auntie Jo', delicately broke a piece off her chocolate biscuit. "What about your pH levels, dear?"
"My what?" I was mostly sure she was referring to some obscure and arcane gardening ritual and not a post-NEWT wizarding exam I'd never qualified for, but not enough to bluff my way through.
Draco Malfoy, proving that the git in him was still alive and well, laughed so hard that I was waiting for tears to begin trickling out of his eyes.
"Your pH levels," Miss Jo said as if I'd grown a second, particularly hideous, nose on my face. "The soil in your garden needs to be tested in various areas to determine whether your soil is alkaline, neutral or acidic. It's critically important, dear. Just imagine what would happen to an azalea in alkaline soil." She shuddered and popped a bit of biscuit in her mouth. "Not to mention soil type and light levels."
If I was Alice and this was a Lewis Carroll story, I'd be plunging down a dirty dark hole towards the land of All Advanced Herbology, All the Time. "Of course," I said weakly with an equally wan smile. "Light and pH levels and soil types. I'll get straight on that."
I managed to make it through the rest of the meeting without mishap, though I caught Miss Jo shooting me quizzical looks every now and then. I think she had me pegged as a fraud hiding in the midst of master gardeners.
I was just swinging on my cloak as the others departed when Madeleine cornered me with a sweet smile and Draco Malfoy in tow. "Ginny, I couldn't help but notice your unfamiliarity earlier with soil testing and light requirements, so I've asked young Draco here to assist you the first time. He's assured me he'd be happy to oblige, and I'm sure you'd be much more comfortable tramping about your garden with someone your own age." She chuckled. "Not to mention the fact that it's too cold out today for these old bones. Or that I have to clean up the mess here, thanks to dear Lindy."
Managing to choke back a snort at the 'young Draco' comment -it made him sound like a child but, after all, to these women, anyone below seventy fell into the 'young' category- I nodded politely. "Of course; I'd love any help I could get." I paused thoughtfully. "But really, I have a number of errands to accomplish before tomorrow, so it's not at all pressing. I could always wait a few weeks until you're free, Madeleine."
"Nonsense." She pointed a stern finger at me. "Another few days of this horrid cold and you won't be able to get a proper soil sample until spring, and that's far too late. It'll only take you fifteen, twenty minutes at most, dear. I'm sure Draco has got the spells necessary down pat by now. Surely you can spare a few minutes this afternoon?"
I may be stubborn, but I know when I'm beaten. Why are the sweet old ladies always the ones hiding a titanium skeleton beneath their wrinkly skin? I gave in gracefully, but there was no hiding my huff of annoyance when Draco grinned wryly at me. He knew I'd just been outmaneuvered by a woman two steps from needing a walker.
"I'm available about half-four, Mrs. Potter, if that's convenient for you." A hint of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth and, had we still been schoolchildren, I'd have been very tempted to smack it clear off his face for him.
I nodded shortly. "That's fine; I'll arrange to be home by then. You know where I live, don't you?" Brow furrowed, I added, "And it's Ginny, please."
He tipped his head, sending the shoulder-length ponytail slithering over one shoulder of his expensive robes. "I do." He placed a hand on my shoulder as I turned to leave. "Given your husband's occupation and abnormal level of paranoia about me, am I going to be zapped into oblivion if I Apparate there, or am I safe until he stalks out of the house and blindsides me with hexes?"
"Oh! Right." I blushed. I should have thought of that, I suppose, but my brain didn't seem to be functioning normally much these days. "If you'll give me a strand of hair, I'll add you to the Safe Apparition list for the day, and Harry won't be home until this evening. I believe he's presenting some point paper at the Ministry this afternoon." I smiled slyly. "You should be safe enough. I mean, it's not like he's installed any anti-Malfoy wards around our house or anything." My smile widened. "At least, not that I know of." Plucking a strand of pale blond hair from his ponytail, I Disapparated before he had a chance to respond.
I was just huffing my way up the front walk, laden down with paper sacks bulging with food, when Draco Apparated not five feet in front of me. "Bloody- watch out!" I shrieked. Avoiding running him down would have been so much easier if I wasn't weighted down with enough food to feed three starving teenagers and an equally voracious thirty-something man. The iced-over pavement I was currently skating across was not helping matters, either.
In the end, I avoided plowing him over, but just barely, and with much flailing and cursing on my part. The goose was hanging drunkenly from one of the bags I clutched.
"Potter-"
"Ginny," I correctly him automatically.
He waved one hand impatiently as he used the other to save the packaged goose from its imminent plunge to the walk. I firmly believe he was flouting his bloody unnatural coordination at me for spite.
"Ginny, then. My point was to ask you why you're toting the contents of your kitchen around in paper sacks."
I gaped at him. "God above, Malfoy, I'm not doing this for my health. I had to go to Tesco's before the children get home."
"Tesco's?"
Rolling my eyes and stepping around him, I continued on to the house. I was not going to stand about on a bitterly cold afternoon just to discuss my grocery shopping with him. "Yes, Tesco's," I offered over my shoulder. "The giant, ubiquitous chain store that sells food." He still looked at me blankly. "The market, Draco- that convenient place that you get food from. You do know what a market is, don't you?"
He waved the goose at me. "That's right, now's a perfectly adequate time for some joke about house-elves, Potter, bearing in mind that my family had one and your husband freed him when I was twelve. I can do my own shopping, thank you very much, but I've never heard of Tesco's. I order my food in from Procrup's Produce, like every other wizard or witch in Wiltshire."
Shaking my head and awkwardly waving him ahead of me into the house, I smirked. "Automobile out front, married to a man raised a Muggle, and a telly blaring twenty hours a day; do you really think I shop through a wizarding market?"
He had the grace to look embarrassed- or maybe it was just the biting wind and numbing cold of standing outside that reddened his cheeks. Either way, I was satisfied; baiting him didn't change a damn thing going on in my life, but it sure did make me feel better. He didn't seem to be offended by it either, which was a very big point in his favor. One more indicator that Draco Malfoy had indeed grown up.
He walked straight through to the kitchen and set the goose on the counter before turning and taking two of the bags from me. "I assume you're going to want to put this all away before we do the soil tests, aren't you?" When I nodded, he sighed. "All right. If I offer to help, could I finagle a cup of chocolate out of you? I'll need the warmth if we're going to be standing about outside for any period of time." The absurdly hopeful look on his face almost made me laugh; he looked like James offering to add the last ingredient to a batch of cookie dough just so I'd let him lick the spoon.
As I prepared two mugs of chocolate, I watched him wander around my kitchen, perusing the photos and various art projects my kids had made on the walls.
He stopped in front of a tatty piece of parchment smeared with red and green paint. "Ah," he mused, much like Bill when he was sent a new set of Egyptian hieroglyphs to decipher. Turning a serious face to me, he asked, "Doggie or house?"
I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. "Al painted that for me when he was three- and it's Mummy playing Quidditch."
"You make a lovely red smear," he chuckled. "Scorpius made one for my mother once. It was a pink and white swirl that he swore was 'Ganpa'; I believe she still has it framed in her and Father's bedroom. She delights in tormenting him about his 'pastel beauty' when he's being particularly cranky about something."
I'm not sure how I was supposed to respond to that, but I'm pretty sure my reaction wasn't very polite. I snorted, and not the brief type of snort that indicates incredulity. I snorted so hard that had there been a pig in the immediate vicinity, it would have applauded my capacity for porcine language skills. Or tried to mate with me.
Let's face it; the thought of Lucius Malfoy, spectacularly unscrupulous former Death Eater, being harassed by the coolly haughty woman I knew to be Draco's mother was hilarious.
"Ladylike, Potter," he said dryly.
I threw him a dirty look. "If you call me 'Potter' or 'Mrs. Potter' one more time, Malfoy, I'm going to hex you cross-eyed, soil tests be damned."
Setting his chocolate down on the table, he looked at me quizzically. "A slip of the tongue, Ginny, nothing more, but I wonder why your name bothers you so much. After all, you've been Mrs. Potter for a good number of years now." Crossing his arms and leaning a hip on the corner of the table, Draco frowned. "I don't see why a simple courtesy should bother you so."
Folding the last paper sack neatly and stowing it beneath the sink gave me time to come up with a number of smooth lies about why him addressing me as 'Mrs. Potter' irritated me, but I decided to go with the simple truth. I wanted to tell someone, and he seemed to be the only candidate that stood no chance of being dragged into the middle of my marital woes. I stared determinedly at the counter. "It bothers me because I won't be a Potter for much longer."
"Ah." His tone was guarded. "I'd offer my condolences, but I have a feeling that you aren't an injured party here."
Sighing, I chanced a glance at him. His face was as blank as his voice. "There's no injured party at all; we've just figured out that if we stay married, we'll end up as two strangers in the same house before long."
"Hence your curiosity about the circumstances surrounding my divorce from Cass?"
I blushed. "I was pretty obvious, wasn't I?"
"Not completely transparent, no." Draco's lips twitched as if he was fighting the urge to smile. "I thought you were just looking for a good bit of gossip to share with your mates."
"Then why did you tell me?" I asked, puzzled.
He shrugged. "I don't actively try to hide what happened; I'm not ashamed of it. We were simply different types of people with very different goals in life. I thought that having a child would help Cass to settle down, but as the years passed, she only got a bigger itch to return to her business. In the end, there was no time left for us, and we both realized that forcing it would only make each of us resent the other." His grey eyes locked with mine. "It was better to get out before we hated each other."
I nodded. Strange to think that Draco Malfoy and sage marital advice would be linked in my mind, but they were. He seemed to clearly understand what I was going through with Harry with what little I had told him.
He straightened away from the table. "Let's get to that soil testing before dusk falls and it gets cold enough to quick freeze us, Ginny."
I nodded silently and went to fetch my cloak. It was odd, but he was easy to talk to about the prospects of divorce. I didn't feel shock or horror radiating off him, like I did with Hermione, and he was, well, he was nice about all of it.
I wriggled my fingers inside my gloves again, but they remained numb . "How many more soil samples do we need, for Christ's sake?" My teeth were chattering so badly that I was shocked I got the question out without stuttering. "We must've done ten already."
"Buck up," he replied easily, and if the git's ears and nose hadn't been cherry red, I'd never had known that he was feeling the cold at all. "You've got almost an acre back here, and you'd be surprised at how much the pH levels can vary in just a few hundred feet." He slid the small notebook he'd been recording the results in out of his pocket and glanced at the figures on the page. "For example, the spot just off the patio was at 7.6- that's alkaline." He pointed off towards the far corner of the property. "Back there's at 6.1, and you can bet the acidity is from those spruce trees you've got bordering the wall. That's a huge range, and if we didn't do these tests, half the plants you'll put in the ground will either do poorly or die altogether."
"I have to tell you that the combination of a pedantic man and a blindingly cold day makes me cranky," I muttered as I handed him yet another core of dirt from the hole I'd magicked.
He had the nerve to smile at me. "Good to know. No whining. You had chocolate to warm you up; besides, only one or two more tests and we'll be done for the day."
My suspicious look must have lost much of its potency when I was forced to swipe at my runny nose. "What do you mean, 'for the day'?"
After he'd recorded the pH levels for the latest core, Draco shuffled off towards the house, speaking over his shoulder to me as we went. "Why, there's still soil types and light charts to complete; surely you didn't think it was just digging up a spot of dirt, waving a wand and then Poof!- you've got an award-winning garden?" He smirked. "Oh, you did. How cute."
"You know, I thought you'd changed," I accused, though I was secretly amused. He was turning out to be an excellent distraction. "Acting all mature… holding doors… saving the Christmas goose from an icy death, but in reality, your true nature was just waiting to pop back out."
He smiled and indicated the next spot I was to excavate.
Digging the hole with more oomph than strictly necessary, I pulled a face at him. "There's legislation against sarcasm at sub-zero temperatures, you know."
Draco threw his hands up. "Fine, fine, you win. No more." He looked around. "There are two more spots to check back here and a few in your front garden, but if you're so cold, we can always finish up another time."
If I had any feeling in my arms, I would have hugged him. "Really?" The amount of joy I put into that one word was pathetic. I was freezing, damn it. "Brilliant. Another time is perfect. How's June for you?"
He grinned and glanced back at the house. "Don't suppose you've got any more chocolate handy, do you?"
I returned the smile. "I'll race you to the kitchen," I said before bolting for the back door.
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