by Phoenix Neal
Author's note: This is based around the song "Forgive" by Rebecca Lynn Howard. Due to FFN restrictions, I have removed the lyrics. To see the story with the lyrics included, please visit my LiveJournal. (The link is in my profile.)
Ginny looked past Harry to the wedding picture on the mantelpiece. She saw herself dressed in white, with little white flowers woven into her hair. Her arms were around Harry, and she was gazing up at him in adoration. Harry, in his best black dress robes, was holding her close to him, and grinning widely at the camera. The words of the ceremony pounded in her head. "Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?" And he had said yes. He had promised. So had she. They had discussed it before they married. She had asked him if he was sure, if he didn't think he was too young to promise forever. She had told him in no uncertain terms that she wouldn't stand for him stepping out on her. He had assured her she would always be his one and only. He had been hurt that she thought it necessary to bring it up, she reflected grimly. How ironic.
She pulled her gaze away from the wedding picture and refocused on the Harry that was standing in front of her. He was wearing his everyday work robes, and he hadn't even put down the rolls of parchment he'd brought home from the Ministry. He was desperately trying to catch her eye, but she was resolutely avoiding his gaze as the thoughts poured through her brain faster than she could process them. She should leave. She should just walk right out the door. I will, she told herself. I can't stay. Not after this. But she remained rooted to the spot. Harry dropped the parchment on the couch and approached her, reaching out to take her hand, but she recoiled from his touch.
"Ginny, please…" he started, his voice pleading.
"Don't touch me! Don't you even come near me!" Ginny seethed. Harry's hand fell limply back to his side, and he dropped heavily into the armchair. Ginny remained rooted to the spot. Go! Get out! her brain was screaming. Her feet, however, refused to cooperate.
Harry's words echoed in her brain. She would've done anything to shut them out, but she couldn't. Over and over again they surged up to batter her. Ginny, I've got to tell you something. I don't know how to say this… I never meant things to go so far. But there's this girl at the office… At that point, she had exploded at him. Shut up! Don't say it, I don't want to know, you can't really mean…! But the look on his face said it all. Ginny, please… NO! HOW COULD YOU? Ginny, I'm so sorry. Ginny! She's nothing! You're the one I care for… But she had stopped listening. What sort of greeting was this? He hadn't even asked her about her day, hadn't even said hello… He might as well have greeted her with a killing curse; she certainly felt dead inside.
"Ginny." Oh, how she wished he'd quit saying her name! "Ginny… can't you just… can you ever… Ginny, forgive me!" Harry cried out, his voice cracking. Ginny looked at him woodenly, and he dropped his head into his hands as the tears poured down his face.
"'Forgive'?" Ginny shrieked "You walk in here and tell me you've been cheating on me, and I'm supposed to forgive you? ARE YOU MAD?" Ginny reached into her robes for her wand. She pulled it out and pointed it straight at Harry. She wasn't sure what she was going to do to him, but she felt pretty certain forgiving him was not a part of it.
"Ginny… I'm sorry! I AM! Do y'think I'd be telling you this if I wasn't?" He raised his eyes to look at her. There was a note of frustration in Harry's voice now, but the look in his eyes silently begged her to understand.
"Oh, you're sorry, are you?" Sparks flew out of Ginny's wand as she waved it wildly at Harry; they barely missed hitting him square in the eye. Harry looked startled, but seemed unable to move. Ginny found that she wasn't even remotely sorry about that. "Yes, Harry, I'd say you're pretty sorry."
"Ginny, you're my wife! I love you! This was a mistake, you've got to see that!" the tears were beginning to dry, and a somewhat panicked expression was taking their place.
"I don't know who I am to you any more, Harry. Obviously I'm not the wife you promised to be faithful to as long as you lived." She paused, and then asked acidly, "Tell me, Harry, did you ever mean to keep that promise?"
She asked because she knew it would hurt him, and her words found their mark. Harry looked as if he had been punched in the stomach and then hit with a full Body-Bind curse. Even his eyes weren't moving, though a few tears continued to trickle out. Ginny almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Ginny's feet finally unrooted themselves from the carpet. She turned on her heel and stalked towards their bedroom, to do she knew not what. As she walked away, she added, half to herself and half to Harry, "It's too soon for me to forgive you. If I ever can."
Harry followed Ginny to their room, and found her curled up and sobbing on their bed. This was turning out even worse than he had expected. He sank down on the floor next to her and tried again to take her hand, but she jerked away. She raised her head off the pillow and glared at him.
"What did I do wrong? Didn't I care enough for you? Or did you just get tired of my face?" she demanded.
"No – it – I…" Harry faltered, but Ginny interrupted him.
"Never mind. I don't want to know. It doesn't matter!"
She buried her face in her pillow again, as the sobs shook her body. Her body – it was as beautiful as it was the day they married. He hadn't tired of her kisses; he longed even now to have her in his arms. So why had he ever started fooling around with Claire?
Because Claire made him feel special. Because she listened to him vent. Because she was in awe of the Boy Who Lived, even when he wasn't being heroic. He never had to put on a brave face for her. Oh, and Ginny expected you to be perfect, did she? a voice in his head accused. How many times did she try to draw you out, to get you to let her know how you were feeling?
Harry was startled out of his thoughts when Ginny got up suddenly. She was no longer crying. Instead, it was as if her face had turned to stone.
"Get out," she said, her voice quiet but full of venom.
"Wha- What?" Harry replied, startled.
"Get. Out. Leave. Go and stay with Hermione, I'm sure she'll have plenty of sympathy for you. I'll send an owl if I ever decide to speak to you again." Ginny began throwing his robes out of the wardrobe and onto the bed.
This was going worse and worse. He had known she would be angry, but he hadn't expected her to throw him out of the house. She hadn't even given him a chance to explain! She just doesn't understand me the way Claire does, he thought defensively. Have you ever given her the chance? the accusing voice in his head shot back. Have you ever told her the things you told Claire? About the nightmares… about that year… about anything? Though it frustrated him, Harry had to admit to himself that he hadn't. I wanted to save Ginny from that, he thought in self-justification. Why, so you could do this to her, instead? the accusing voice reproached him. No! It's not like that! He had wanted the past to disappear. He just wanted to be happy with her now…
Ginny finished throwing his things into a bag and then sent it zooming toward his head. He ducked, barely avoiding the bag, which shattered the mirror behind him instead. Harry and Ginny both stared at the broken mirror for a moment, before Harry walked over, pulled out his wand, and muttered, "Reparo." He wished he could use the charm to mend his relationship with Ginny. If only it were that easy.
"Ginny, try to understand," he tried again. "I – I just wanted someone to listen to me, I never meant things to go so far."
Ginny cut him off, "Oh, and I couldn't have listened to you, is that it? I know we have the same hair, but it's George that's missing an ear, not me!" Her eyes were boring holes into his head.
"I – didn't want to bother you," Harry replied, knowing how lame the excuse sounded even as it left his lips.
"Oh, and you thought that shagging another woman would bother me less? Well, now that I know it was all done in consideration of me, I'll just sew my broken heart back together and forgive you." Ginny's sarcasm was like a knife to the heart. Not that he deserved any better, he thought miserably. "I married you Harry, I didn't consider shagging you a bother! Or listening to you, for that matter!"
Tears began to well in Harry's eyes again, even as the frustration of being denied the chance to explain himself bubbled up inside him. He felt the weight of what he had done crash down on him with more force than ever. The sight of his tears seemed to infuriate Ginny all the more.
"I said GET OUT!" she screamed, and then added "Oppugno!" The bag containing his things soared back towards Harry and started beating him about the head. He stumbled out of the room towards the front door, trying to ward off the blows with his arms. The bag knocked off his glasses as he stumbled onto the porch, and Ginny sent those flying after him as well.
Harry knew it was a lost cause, but he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.
"Ginny, please. Give me another chance. Just one. I love you… forgive me!"
"That's an awfully big word for such a small man, Harry Potter," Ginny replied icily. The bag and the glasses dropped to the ground. Ginny's anger had receded behind a stony façade again. Harry stood, defeated, by the front gate as Ginny took off her wedding ring and dropped it into the pocket of her robes. She looked at him one last time with those eyes of stone, and then turned back into the house, closing the door behind her.
Harry gazed at the door for a long moment, hoping against hope that it would open again. He knew in his heart, though, that if Ginny ever forgave him, it wouldn't be tonight. Fighting off the urge to scream, he picked up his things, stepped outside the gate, and Disapparated.
Ginny's stony façade dropped as soon as the door shut. She watched Harry from behind the curtains, and when he Disapparated, she sank into the armchair and began sobbing again. Part of her wanted to run after him, to find him, to say she was sorry and to beg him to come home. Sorry for what? the other part of her demanded. He's the one who cheated. He's the one who should be sorry! Anger and sadness broke over her in competing waves. How had they come to this? They'd been married for a year. Just one measly year, and he had already tired of her. And yet he said he still loved her. Did he tell her that, too? Who is she, anyway? Is she the girl Hermione's tried to warn me about? How many girls have there been?
Hermione worked at the Ministry, too. She'd come to Ginny a few weeks earlier, seeming out of sorts and apprehensive, saying she thought Ginny should know something. It had taken a whole pot of tea and an entire hour for Ginny to drag it out of her. Harry seems to be spending a lot of time with some new witch in the Floo Network Authority, Hermione had finally conceded. Ginny had just laughed. He's probably just doing his job, Hermione. You know they've got to put them on notice to watch the network for some of the cases he's working on. Hermione had seemed unconvinced. They normally take care of that sort of thing with memos, I think, she had said uncertainly, as if trying to convince herself that maybe she was mistaken. Still, why would he need to have lunch with her just to tell her about a case? Hermione hadn't pushed the matter, though. In fact, she had seemed relieved to talk about something else.
She was right, though, Ginny thought bitterly. She wondered how long this had been going on. She imagined Harry and this unknown witch laughing together, and wondered how many of the nights Harry was "working late" were really spent with her. After entertaining this line of thought for a few minutes, she felt physically ill. Why are you thinking about this? Does it really matter? What are you going to do now? She just couldn't think about what she should do. Where her heart had been, there was just a big empty hole.
Ginny sat in the armchair for hours, alternating between angry muttering and heartbroken tears. He's always been so strong – how, how, HOW could he do this? It all came back to one question. The one she couldn't answer. Can I ever forgive him? Physically exhausted and emotionally drained, she finally fell asleep in the chair, not knowing the answer.
More Author's Note: Thanks to Molly, Jade, Anna, and Anamarie for beta reading this piece. It would not be half the story it is without their input. Also, if you want my position on writing a sequel to this piece, please see my Livejournal entry (link in the profile) for 7 September 2007. Don't let that stop you from leaving reviews saying, "Please write more!" I like those. ;)