Chapter Thirteen: Aftermath and Argument

Lily was lying on the stone floor, her small body still shaking with the force of her tears. Breathing a deep sigh and leaning back against the castle wall, Scorpius could only continue tracing the small circles over her shoulders, hoping to sooth her somewhat. He’d discarded his cloak already and her tear-stained cheek was resting pillowed against it. He wasn’t speaking and neither was she. Lily’s outburst from when he’d caught up to her was still echoing in his head, haunting him.

“Lily! Lily, slow down!”

Scorpius ran as fast as he could after Lily’s crying form, finally closing the distance between them. She had made it as far as the Entrance Hall when Scorpius caught up with her. He grabbed the crying girl from behind and pulled her against him until her head was buried in his chest, her tears soaking through his thin shirt.

“Shh, Lily! She doesn’t matter! None of them matter!” he promised her.

Her tiny hands twisted themselves into the front of his shirt, desperately clinging to him.

She was sobbing uncontrollably, pulling back from him enough that he could see the tears spilling from her eyes and down her face, drowning her so that she was gasping for enough strength for each breath. “E-everything that’s gone wrong is because of us!” she cried. “R-Rose, s-she hates me. She h-hates me!”

“She doesn’t matter!” Scorpius repeated, rubbing her back to soothe her.

“S-she d-does! And my m-mum, she, she’ll hate me too!”

“No!” Scorpius growled, pulling her back from him so that she was forced to meet his eyes. “Look at me! Look at me, Lils!” he growled until her large green eyes finally met his, the pain he felt reflected in her miserable stare. He swallowed back whatever he was going to say and just wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to his chest and burying his face in her hair.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, “Lils, I’m so sorry…”

A strangled sob caught in her throat and her fingers fisted themselves in the fabric of his clothing, crying so hard that he had to physically support her to keep her from falling to the floor.

Swallowing painfully, Scorpius pulled her flush against him, lifting her off the floor by a few inches and pressing his lips to her wet cheek, his eyes suspiciously bright and about to shed tears of their own.

Scorpius’ expression hardened, continuing to soothe the small girl lying beside him. As he relived everything that had happened since Lily had stormed out of the Hospital wing, he felt his thoughts shift and darken with guilt and rage in equal measure.

He’d sat with her here for hours now and she’d only cried; his shirt was soaked with her tears until she finally laid down on the floor, still trembling with tears.

“We don’t need them, Lils. We don’t need any of them…” he whispered.

“I wish that were true…”she replied numbly, tears still falling down her cheeks.

*

Ginny quietly stepped into the dark house, neglecting to light the few lamps as she crossed the threshold, preferring to sit in the dark instead. She carefully slipped off her shoes and set down her purse, moving over to the cushioned loveseat and sinking into it with a weary sigh. Closing her eyes, Ginny could still picture the look on her daughter’s face, the way Lily had glared past her tears at her with such hurt… Her own tears now silently spilling down her cheeks, Ginny buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling as she tried to contain the sob still caught in her throat.

Draco’s words still echoed in her head from earlier and her skin acutely remembered the feeling of his arms around her, holding her together.

“Ginny, go home. Go home,” he had repeated.

She had nearly collapsed to the floor of the Hospital wing once Lily stormed out, falling to pieces with the knowledge that her daughter knew what she had done. Her children knew. She had wanted to disappear into the floor but Draco had caught her and held her. His arms around her had held her firmly against his chest as he had whispered for her to go home again and again until it was the only thought in place. So she had returned home, too distressed to have thought further than simply sitting in the dark living room and waiting.

She heard footsteps from down the carpeted hall and soon Harry stepped into the room, clad in an old tee shirt and plaid pajama bottoms, his hair mussed up.

“Gin? What are you doing home so late? I had to actually make my own dinner.” Harry chuckled lightly in an attempt at humor as he ran his fingers through his hair, lighting the few lamps with a flick of his wand. Catching sight of the flickering firelight reflected in his wife’s watery eyes, he sucked in a breath, crossing over to her in an instant. “Are you crying?”

Trembling, Ginny shook her head back and forth, tears spilling down her cheeks and neck, the front of her robes already damp. Harry quickly sat beside her, gathering her in his arms and pulling her against his chest. She was shaking with tears, taking great shuddering breaths.

“L-Lily… Lily k-knows…” she cried, burying her face in her husband’s chest.

Harry froze, his arms clenching protectively around his wife, knowing there was only one secret that she would be this devastated over their children knowing, the same secret that had been threatening their own marriage for the last twenty-five years, slowly building up until it had exploded into the mess his wife was sobbing over now. His wife was the most upset he’d ever seen her, tears now soaking his shirt as well.

“What happened?” he choked out with a weak rasp.

Ginny sniffled, her throat closing up with tears. She tried to speak and shook her head miserably. “It’s all my f-fault… I-I should have n-never t-told R-Rose!”

“Shh, Ginny… When did this happen?” Harry quietly asked, trying to keep his thoughts in order even as he tried to make sense of his wife’s garbled words, feeling a steadily rising panic of his own that he fought to conceal.

“R-remember when you came home from taking the boys Christmas shopping and R-Rosie was here?”

“Yes. You were crying then too,” Harry said slowly. “For the same reason?”

“S-sort of. Harry, I-I told Rose then. I told her e-everything.”

“Sweetheart, why would you…?”

“I d-don’t k-know… I was u-upset and I j-just… everything just came out!” she cried, sobbing uncontrollably.

Harry pulled his wife’s trembling body closer against his chest, rubbing soothing circles over her back that had no effect. He swallowed tightly, not wanting to ask his next question, fearing her answer for it could tear him apart. “Are you unhappy?” he asked quietly, his jaw clenched tight.

“N-no, no, I j-just… I t-told her, Harry! T-that’s all! That’s all, I s-swear! I t-told Rosie not to tell, but I s-should have never put that on her because now Lily knows and it’s all because of m-me!”

Harry closed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief, grateful at least that Ginny wasn’t leaving him. For years he had feared that she was disappointed with her marriage and regretted choosing him, fears of his that he still had never left behind, not since twenty-six years ago when Draco Malfoy had walked right into her life.

Their relationship had never been the same. Harry had always told Ginny that he didn’t blame her, that he trusted her. Saying those things had even been easy once, before Malfoy had come right back into this mess, brought along by their daughter’s friendship with his son. After twenty-six years, Harry had thought he was sure of his wife, of their marriage and their future but that had been before the old doubt had rammed into them with all the force of a freight train. He swallowed back his accusations, struggling to keep his voice even and soothing if only to calm his sobbing wife, keep her from seeking comfort from Malfoy instead.

“Gin, everything’s going to be alright, okay?”

Ginny shook her head furiously back and forth, tears everywhere. “No, no, Harry, you don’t understand! They’re not s-speaking, Lily and Rose aren’t speaking! They h-hate each other and Lily is dating… she’s with his son! I was only trying to t-tell someone the truth and now I’m hurting Draco too!”

“He was there?” Harry asked, his throat tightening as his fears doubled.

Ginny nodded miserably. “The fight Lily was in, that McGonagall owled us about, Draco’s son was involved… I don’t even know what all h-happened, but Rose attacked Lily, and Scorpius got in the middle of it and Hugo too… Oh God, Hermione was there… She heard e-everything!”

“Shh, Gin… Hermione won’t say anything. Trust me on this. It’s okay… Shh…”

Ginny shook her head, more than certain that Hermione would make more problems of this than there already were without even saying a word. She sniffled loudly and tried to push the other woman out of her mind, relating the story of what happened to her husband instead.

“Rose just kept shouting and shouting,” she cried. “Draco and I were only trying to sort it out when they all started shouting again and Scorpius… he knew… and Lily knew and I-I just lost it…” She sniffed and started crying in earnest, her voice breaking. “Draco told me to go home so I came home…”

“Oh, Ginny…”

Finally, Ginny was crying so hard she could scarcely speak. “They h-hate each other, Harry! I s-should’ve n-never told Rose! I should’ve n-never put that on her and now Lily knows, Harry, she k-knows!”

Harry’s eyes fell shut, squeezing Ginny’s shoulders and desperately trying to comfort his wife even as his mind whirled with the knowledge that his daughter knew and was arguably making bad decisions as a result. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry,” his wife cried, her fingers clinging to him.

“Shh, Gin, it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he soothed, saying things he himself didn’t believe, continuing to rub circles along her spine and feeling sick.

Ginny pushed herself back from him, hysterically wiping at her eyes, her fingers sliding over her tears, there were so many of them. “I need to see him, Harry. I’m sorry but I need to see him,” she cried, her eyes puffy and bloodshot.

Harry swallowed hard, feeling like the floorboards were crumbling from beneath him, his entire world’s foundation collapsing at the fear her words prompted in him. He couldn’t lose her, not again, not for this! This was done long ago; this wasn’t supposed to come back up again! Harry drew his wife into a fiercely tight embrace, kissing her hard.

“You don’t need to do this, Ginny,” he rasped, possessively holding tight to her. His breathing became restricted and painful, knowing he couldn’t stop her from leaving no matter what he did. “Don’t go,” he pleaded again but she was trembling now, shaking her head miserably as she cried.

“I have to, Harry. I have to see him. Please?” she cried, begging him to let her go. “Please, please, let me do this.”

Harry’s arms tightened around her, wanting to refuse and keep her home, away from any risk that he might lose her. Her face fell as she recognized his intentions and she began to pull away from him, face furious.

Harry stood to follow her and immediately seized her wrist, tugging her back so that she stumbled against him. “Let go of me, Harry,” she ordered, her eyes feverishly bright.

“Why do you need to do this?” he demanded. “What will any of this change?”

“I’m not trying to change anything!” she exclaimed, trying and failing to pull away from him, her voice becoming increasingly hysterical. “I’m with you, so you can stop trying to keep me here! This isn’t about us!”

“Of course it’s about us! If it’s not about us, then it’s about him! You never let him go!” he roared.

Ginny ripped her hand back from him, taking a few steps back and calming her erratic breathing. “Open your eyes, Harry, and think,” she demanded in a cold voice that caught him off guard despite their heated row. “This is about our children, Lily and Rose arguing over some boy!”

“His son!” Harry fiercely cut in.

Ginny stood frozen, her voice controlled and even but laced with rage. “Yes,” she spat, “Draco’s son.”

“What makes you think we can solve any of this by you running back to him?” Harry demanded.

“It’s worth a try!” she shrieked.

“Is it? Is whatever happened today so horrible that you think it’s worth risking our marriage for, so you can race back to Draco and have him fix everything?”

Ginny only glared at him, immediately turning on her heel and retreating down the hallway. Harry let out a weary sigh, his shoulders sinking as he threw himself back on the couch, listening to the sounds of his wife slamming dresser drawers and cabinets in their bedroom. Rubbing the pads of his fingers over his eyelids, Harry knew better than to follow her. He hadn’t seen Ginny this furious in ages but he knew she needed time to cool down, even if it meant he would have to wait until she fell asleep before he returned to their bedroom.

Sitting alone in the darkness, Harry let himself be filled with anger, thinking only of the way she’d leave in the morning, first thing with how furious she was with him. He would have to watch her go, fists clenched and helpless to stop her. She said she was going to discuss their children, Lily and that sod Scorpius, but Harry knew better. His anger swirled behind his eyes, fueled on by the doubts that had plagued him for years, and in that moment, he knew his wife had never really gotten over Draco Malfoy.

There was the sudden spray of shower water falling and Harry let out a deep sigh, sinking back against the couch and staring angrily into the darkness. As the warm water no doubt helped rid his wife of the anger and tension in her body, his own fear served to rid him of his anger, replacing it with the icy cold fear only Dementors could bring about in him. Tomorrow, everything would change as she walked out that door, and he just might lose her forever. It didn’t matter that he’d been sympathetic and understanding with her. She still was hung up on Draco. After twenty-five years of marriage, she was still going to risk everything for the bastard.

Several minutes later, after the water had finally stopped, Harry listened until he heard the familiar sound of bedsprings being pressed down, Ginny having finally crawled into bed, dousing the golden light with her wand. Sitting up in the darkened room for a few extra minutes to ensure she fell asleep, Harry made a silent prayer that he could save his marriage and keep his wife from leaving the next day. He knew in his heart there was no stopping her, just as he’d worried about her brash independence years ago. She acted on her own at times and it scared him like hell.

Finally pushing himself up from the couch, Harry quietly crept down the darkened halls until he reached their bedroom, softly pushing open the bedroom door. He could just make out the shape of his wife’s form beneath the covers, her chest rising and falling in a slow and steady rhythm and even he didn’t realize she was only feigning sleep.

Silently slipping beneath the covers beside her, Harry turned his back to her and removed his glasses, setting them on the nightstand in weary defeat. He let himself sink against the pillows and tried to fall asleep, but sleep never came, his eyes simply staring off into the dreary blackness of their bedroom, unsure if he would ever escape from their waking nightmare.

Beside him, though he never noticed, Ginny was staring at the other end of the room, her back to her husband as well. Her fingers were shaking in the darkness, tears spilling silently down her cheeks. She had practically screamed at her husband earlier but that was not the cause for her tears and regret. She was only grateful that she’d stopped herself from arguing much longer with him, for her temper surely would have snapped in the circumstances and she would have accused him of things they’d rather both forget.

*

The next morning dawned far too soon for Harry but to Ginny, who had cried silently even as she struggled to sleep, the day could not have come soon enough. She woke to the sound of raindrops pelting against the roof of the cottage and warily pushed herself out of bed. Briefly glancing out from between the window blinds, she saw that the sky outside was clouded and grey, perfect in its misery. Ginny silently padded into the bathroom and gently closed the door behind her, stepping into the shower and trying to wash the night’s sticky tears from her body. Though she didn’t admit it even to herself, she was really only trying to avoid Harry for as long as she could before it was time to leave.

Listening to the running water, Harry lay still in their bed, his throat closing up as he stared unseeingly up at the ceiling, violet shadows under his eyes from not sleeping. He swallowed dryly when he heard the shower water stop and summoning all the strength in his body, forced himself up and out of bed, his heart pained as he slipped out of their bedroom and into the kitchen. His anger from the night before had ebbed away, replaced only by a sense of dread that make his stomach churn.

Once out of the shower, Ginny quickly dressed, grateful only that Harry had had enough sense to leave the room before another fight could escalate and rip them further apart. Though she didn’t want to admit it, he’d been right. Her visit to Draco wasn’t prompted only out of a mother’s concern for her daughter. She truly did need to see him and that was why Harry was so furious. Her throat closed up as she slipped her wedding ring back on, having taken it off for her shower.

Already feeling the presence of ready tears pressing upon her, she sifted through the jewelry box, sniffling as she savagely fastened Harry’s diamond earrings in place. She met her reflection in the mirror and raised one hand, moving her curtain of hair behind the slip of her ear on one side of her face, one earring showing and the other hidden. She took a shuddering breath, sure she was going to be split in half by what she was forcing herself to do, but today might be her only chance. She still remembered the way she’d left Draco all those years ago, hurried and in tears, and still her heart had never fully recovered from the force of shock she’d felt. She had wanted closure then and never received it. She’d get it now, even if she had to force it.

Though not overly satisfied with her appearance, Ginny quietly made her way into the kitchen. She bent to pick up her purse, her eyes resting on Harry who stood alone in the empty room, his green eyes distant and guarded. Hurriedly looking away, her fingers grasped her purse as she turned to leave, only the sound of her husband’s rasping voice stopping her before she could walk out the front door.

“Gin?” he croaked. “I love you.”

Ginny froze, turning slowly to look at her husband, the man she’d loved for more than half her life. She forced herself to smile up at him, past her tear-filled eyes. Swiftly, she crossed the room to him, slipping her arms around his waist and lightly kissing him with as much warmth as she could muster in her freezing cold body. “I love you too, Harry. I always have. I’ll come home, I promise. I just… I just need to do this,” she whispered, begging him to understand.

“What for?” he rasped. “What is there you could possibly still be fighting for?”

Ginny took a step back from him, her eyes suddenly cold, all traces of caring evaporated. “You’re nothing but a liar, Harry. That’s all you’ve ever been,” she muttered, shaking her head at him.

Harry rolled his jaw, averting his gaze and then glaring straight back at her, his hands clenched into fists. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

She only shook her head at him, as though finally onto something even she hadn’t realized. “You claim to be so u-understanding and supportive,” she spat, “But it’s all just a clever cover, so I’ll keep blaming myself.”

“You’re out of your mind.” He shook his head, still staring at her, chuckling without any trace of amusement. “If what I’ve done for the past twenty-five years was anything but caring and supportive and effing saint-like, than you don’t have any clue about the hell you put me through.”

“What I put you through?” she demanded in a shrill voice, taking another step back and pressing her hand to her breast to fight back the sudden swell of pain. “That was a walk in the park compared to what you did to me,” she cried.

Harry scoffed, angrily turning away from her. “Just go then! Go and see Draco! Go on and keep pretending that you’re only being a good mother because that’s certainly not how I see it!”

“I’m not listening to another minute of this,” Ginny said, turning to leave, already reaching towards the door handle.

Her husband’s sharp words cut her off just as her fingers wrapped around the handle, his voice strained with desperation. “Don’t go, Ginny!”

She turned around to meet his emerald green eyes, wanting to scream and burst into tears all at once but she forced her lower lip to stop trembling and her face to remain passive and unaffected, the same cold mask Draco had been able to slip on so easily. She slipped into that same neutral expression and took a terse breath. “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.”

With that, she pulled the door open and stepped outside, closing it sharply behind her. As she walked into the rain and down the pathway to the street, Ginny pulled out her wand, her tears falling in earnest as she prepared to Disapparate.

Harry heard the unsteady crack of Apparation from inside the house. Losing control of himself, he seized the nearest vase and hurled it to the ground, glass shards flying everywhere. Breathing heavily, he stared down at the broken vase with hatred, forcing himself to mutter a quick reparo though he really could care less. Once the glass pieces joined together once more, Harry stared angrily down at the vase, recognizing it as the one that had held the tulips his wife had received after Lily’s accident, never having removed it from the table though the flowers had long since died.

Feeling pure rage rising within him, Harry broke the vase again with a shattering curse, leaving nothing behind but the smallest fractions of glass and those too, he vanished. He had recognized the tulips then and he’d kept his mouth shut as his wife had lied to him, never saying they were from Malfoy, but he knew. He remembered seeing them always decorating their flat, scattered around the kitchen and her bedroom, taunting him both then and now.

Remembering the words his wife had spoken to him before she left, accusing him of performing throughout all the years that he had tried to be understanding and forgiving, he felt his anger double. He had been sincere then, but everyone had a breaking point and he had met his weeks ago, the day he’d seen those tulips in his kitchen.

Hastily reaching for a bottle of firewhisky, Harry stalked down the hall to their bedroom, determined that he would not leave until she came home, if she came home. He would not go to work today; he couldn’t stomach the idea of what she would be doing with that bastard. Taking a long swig from his bottle, Harry threw himself down on the unmade bed, prepared to drink until he could no longer think or feel.