***

Draco,

We need to talk. I have something important to tell you. Harry and I have made a decision, and I think it's important that I relay that information to you in person.

Ginny


***

Draco waved the letter in question at her. "All right, this was possibly the most cryptic note I've ever received in my life. What exactly do you have to tell me, Ginny?"

She twisted her hands in her lap. "That's a lovely painting. Who created it?" Ginny popped out of her chair to examine it more closely. "I love landscape paintings. Mum gave me one for my birthday a few years back that's a huge field of sunflowers blowing in the wind and-"

Moving behind her quietly, Draco said, "I did it. I paint when the mood strikes." Turning her gently by the shoulders, he looked into her eyes. "Now what is this note all about?"

Ginny gulped. Al and Lily had told her in unequivocal terms that they wanted her and Harry to separate. James had come home for lunch, just the two of them, to echo the sentiment, looking and acting so grown up that it made Ginny's throat ache. Finally, Harry had walked into the sitting room in the middle of the day, when he should have been at work, his green eyes as serious as she'd ever seen them.

He'd sat on the coffee table and taken her hand. "You really weren't sleeping with Malfoy, were you?" When she'd just shaken her head, he sighed, a great sigh that had a wealth of meaning behind it. "I think I knew that from the beginning, Gin, but it was just so easy to be angry with you, to blame everything on you and accuse you of having an affair." Dropping her hand to play with the wedding band on his own, he studied her face. "What do you want?"

God, that had been one of those moments that seemed to stretch out into eternity. "I want to be happy," she'd said softly, thinking about how she really felt. They both deserved the truth now. "I want to laugh and feel valued for more than my cooking and cleaning. I want to do things, go places that I've never been before. I want to remember who the hell Ginny Weasley was before I turned into some domestic machine."

Harry was always good at facing things head on. "You want something I can't give you, don't you." There was no question in his voice, only resignation. "The strange thing is, Gin, I feel the same way. Since you moved back home, things have been off. I sit across from you at dinner and don't think about us anymore; now I find myself wondering what I have at work to do the next day. Last night, I looked over at you and thought for a minute how little I feel like I know you anymore. I didn't want to take you to bed or kiss you by the fire. All I wanted was to hurry up and finish eating so I could get down to the pub to watch the match with the boys."

It had hurt, hearing him admit that. The thing was, it had hurt her pride, not her heart, and when Harry gently told her that he'd be packing his things up over the next week and that he'd found a great little flat over by George's place, a wave of relief had washed over her. Cowardly, yes, but having Harry make the decision was so much easier than telling him that no, she wasn't in love with him anymore.

"Ginny." Draco tapped the end of her nose gently, but his grey eyes were burning with impatience. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me sometime before I die of old age."

She cleared her throat. "It's, erm, we-" She broke off, silently berating herself for being such a ninny. "Harry and I had a talk. He moved out the last of his things yesterday."

He turned and strode to the window, looking out over the rolling lawn and manicured gardens and was silent so long that an air of tension fell on the room. Finally, he asked quietly, "And how do you feel about that?"

"Relieved." The word had slipped out of its own accord, but Ginny knew it was true. She'd been so very relieved. "I didn't… we weren't- hell, the kids were right. We were making ourselves miserable trying to patch up something when our hearts weren't in it."

Draco nodded. "Trust me, I know the sentiment." Stepping away from the window, he began to wander aimlessly around the room.

Ginny could practically see him trying to collect his thoughts. She sank onto the settee and waited.

"I initiated divorce proceedings against Marin."

Startled, Ginny knocked her knees painfully against the low coffee table in front of her. "What? When?"

Coming over to her, he settled himself on the table and gently rubbed her throbbing knees and the strange mirroring of her fateful conversation with Harry was so poignant that her eyes stung.

His heart thudded once, so hard that he was sure it would leap right out of his chest, when he looked down at her hands. The fourth finger of her left hand was unadorned except for a pale and slightly indented section where she'd worn a wedding set for almost twenty years. This was why he'd finally called Marin home, from New York this time. He'd hoped that Ginny would make this decision, and it was hardly fair to not give Marin the courtesy of having this conversation in person. She had, much to his shock, taken things with remarkable aplomb.

"We're virtual strangers, Marin. You hate my mother and father, and I'd rather be sodomized by a giant than spend ten minutes with your friends. Scorpius has had exactly five birthdays that you were present for. For a long time, I thought things were acceptable as they were, because it was easier than fighting about it."

She'd tipped her glorious head of red hair back and studied the ceiling and suddenly the flighty façade she wore like a second skin fell away. "Scorpius knew he had your love no matter what; he never needed me. You knew from the start that I only got pregnant because you wanted a child so badly. I never wanted kids. Besides, I thought you were well pleased with our arrangement, Draco. I came home for business outings with you and avoided scandal, just as we talked about all those years ago. Who is she?"

It felt like she'd wrapped her freckled hands around his throat and he couldn't breathe. "What?" he'd gasped.

"Don't be coy, Draco, it doesn't suit. You were fine with things for years. The only thing that could possibly change your mind is another woman, one I presume you're in love with. So who is she?"

Marin nodded as he tripped and stumbled his way through an explanation in a way that was entirely foreign to his usual poised demeanor and when he finally told her about Ginny, she let out a low chuckle. "I often got the feeling I was a substitute, you know. For all your love of elegance, why you'd choose a freckled, ginger-haired woman like me was something I always wondered about. After all, it wasn't about love, so why?" She'd smiled gently and patted his hand. "Now I know. That's good, Draco. I hope things work out."

Draco gaped at her. Where were the histrionics? The throwing of antiques and epithets and threats to take him for every last Knut? Who in blazes was this woman? He blurted out, "Aren't you going to threaten to clean out my vaults and leave me penniless as punishment?"

She'd frowned incredulously at him. "Whatever for? Because you're in love with someone? I'm not nearly so mercenary as that."

Ah. Draco cocked his head to the side as a sudden burst of insight dawned. "You've been in love with someone else, too?"

Again, Marin shook her hair back and laughed softly. "Draco, if you'd ever been arsed to check my passport, you'd notice that I'm in Singapore almost three-quarters of the year and I have been for years. Of course there's someone else, and I'm madly in love with him."

Now he'd felt like a first rate imbecile. "What?" How had he never gotten around to looking into where she was going and when?

"His name is Touji, and he's a Japanese designer based out of Singapore. I was his muse, and then I became his lover." She leaned forward and gently cupped his face. "I'd love to become his wife."

Draco jumped to his feet and groaned, "Why the bloody everlasting hell didn't you ask me for a divorce then? You've been with someone else for sodding years and you never thought, 'Goodness, I should tell Draco that I've fallen in love and I want out.' Christ above, Marin, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Don't you dare take that tone with me, Draco Malfoy. I never let on because you were quite happy with the status quo. I'd have left in an instant if you showed even the remotest inclination towards separation." She'd poked him with a lacquered maroon fingernail then. "Start the paperwork, Draco. There's no need to drag things out. I don't want your money or properties- I've plenty of my own now that Mummy and Daddy willed everything to me. I'd like to see Scorpius a few times a year. Maybe he could even come to Singapore for holidays."

"Draco?" Ginny's soft, concern-filled voice startled him from his memories. "I'm sorry, but you've been staring at my hands for the better part of five minutes. I'd begun to wonder if you'd had a stroke or something."

He smiled. "Budge over." When she cleared enough room next to her to sit down, he put an arm around her shoulder and turned so he could see her face. "While you and Potter were giving things a second go, Marin and I decided that we would both be happier single. The final paperwork is sitting before the Wizengamot now for the dissolution of our marriage." He gave her a searching look. "And I couldn't be happier. Would you like to know why?"

Ginny felt her pulse skittering through her throat as she looked into his face. "Why?"

He leaned in and said, his lips hovering just above her mouth, "Because there is an available redhead I've been mooning over for years that I told myself could never want me outside my dreams. And she's sitting on my couch in my private study, and she looks like she's about to devour me if I don't kiss her right n-"

Ginny didn't need to hear the rest. It was quite good enough.

***


Save the Date!

Please come help the Malfoys and Potters celebrate the surprise nineteenth birthday party of Scorpius Malfoy on Sunday the Seventeenth of July at six o'clock in the evening. Dinner and dancing will be followed by a midnight Quidditch game, so bring your kit and brooms.

Please RSVP with Ginny Malfoy by the Tenth of July. Dates and children welcome!


***


"Mum!" Lily came skidding into the cozy breakfast room with a frantic expression and a short parchment in her hand. "Fiona said her cousin Margie knows for a fact that Scorpius' girlfriend is coming!"

Ginny sipped her tea and rubbed her stomach gently. She really hoped she was pregnant, but it would be weeks before a test could confirm it. Still, no harm in hoping. She smiled at her youngest, who was not so young anymore as she was freshly out of Hogwarts and looking for an internship. "I sent Marcella an invitation, if that's what you're asking."

"What am I supposed to do?" Lily wailed, her hair tied back in a long tail that was currently swishing as she stalked the length of the small room and back. "That upstart Italian tart is as snooty as a Persian cat and twice as nasty. She lives to rub it in my face that a week after I broke up with Scorpius he was salivating on her shoes." She flung a fulminating glare at the ceiling in the direction of said boy's room. "Hormone-saturated git."

Secretly, Ginny was relieved when Lily had told Scorpius to shove off in his final year at Hogwarts. It would've been rather awkward if both the parents and children were dating. As Molly had said with a deep blush, it would make people wonder what kind of house Ginny was running. She patted the chair next to her and, when Lily flounced into it, she leaned forward to give her only daughter a kiss on the forehead. "What about that nice young wizard from Gringotts' Uncle Bill introduced you to?"

Lily brightened. "Oh, Kirk? He is a pretty bit of bloke, isn't he? All those muscles and a face to make the girls cry." Her pretty eyes narrowed in calculation. "Oh, yes, he'll do nicely." Bending for a swift, if somewhat absent-minded hug, Lily began to wander out of the room muttering to herself.

Ginny grinned widely. God help the man her daughter fell in love with someday.

***

Author notes: Go on, tell me that isn't what you wanted. I know you wanted the happily-ever after, you undying romantic, you.

So that's it, then. No more 'Interlude', though it was a blast to write and I loved all the wonderful reviews you guys gave me. Hopefully, you'll leave one more here for me, won't you? *commences with the puppy dog eyes*

The End.
Mourning Broken Angel is the author of 14 other stories.
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This story is part of the series, The Interlude Arc. The previous story in the series is Interlude.
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