WHEN HE'S GONE
DISCLAIMER: Must I really? OK. I do not own the Harry Potter characters and so on and so forth, you know the deal.
Summary: Final Part of the Days Without Him, but I think they can all be taken singlely.
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She stands in her mourning clothes, holding her sons' hands willing the tears to stay put until she can freely release them, without her sons seeing her pain. The priest speaks words that she does not hear, she doubts they would do anything to help her.
It isn't fair to have to lose Harry. Not now, not so early. Neither of their sons have even gotten their Hogwarts letters yet. The oldest boy, Ben, with dark ginger hair and grey eyes, has celebrated his ninth birthday some months ago, and the youngest, John, with black hair and brown eyes, only six years of age. Their incredible boys that will only have vague memories of their father, who was so brutally murdered. She remembers having to identify him. Gashes and cuts and scraps and bruises, his head practically severed from his neck. it isn't fair.
Her eyes travel anywhere the coffin isn't, and in the distance she sees a figure. Someone she never thought she would see again, especially today of all days. Unconsciously, her grip tightens on her sons, but the coffin is being lowered to the ground and they take it as a sign of comfort for them. The man is watching her watch him. Neither of them move, and nobody else seems to notice, for they are all caught up in their own sorrow. Ginny is lost. The tears she willed to stay put can be held back no longer and they run down her cheeks. Whether they are tears of happiness or despair she does not know, but presently, she knows nothing anyway.
The dirt is piled back into the hole and the people disperse with the exception of four. Ginny, her two sons, and the man in the distance.
"Mummy," the youngest is the one to pull her attention, "what is it?" both John and Ben look at her curiously and she turns to look at the man that is no longer there and the boys follow her gaze.
"Nothing. Let's go." and she leads them to the limousine that will take them home, where people wait to give their condolences and let them know 'everything will be alright.'
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They enter their home and Ginny finds all the people inside comforting and frustrating. They eat and laugh, some of them are smiling through their tears, and she tells her sons to go play with the other kids. For a while, she walks around accepting their sympathies with grace and gratitude, though inside she's burning to get away.
She sits on the steps in the back of the house, alone.
"How are you doing?" Hermione voice enters her thoughts, and she turns around to face her friend. She hadn't heard the door open.
"I've been better. I'm more worried about Ben and John, though." Ginny answers turning her attention back to the hills in the distance.
"They're wonderful boys. They'll be fine." Hermione tells her sitting down beside her.
"Hmm," is all that comes from Ginny.
"John's always reminded me of Harry. Ben's a wonder, though." Now Ginny faces Hermione, waiting to hear what comes next. "I never said anything, but I've always wondered about his eyes. Not to mention he's very different from the two of you."
Ginny frowns at her. "What are trying to get at?" hoping she doesn't sound guilty.
"Nothing really," Hermione shrugs. After a moment she continues, "Too bad, Draco left before Ben was born."
"Hermione, you're being choppy."
"Really?" she sounds surprised, "Am I? Hmm... well, anyway, I came out to tell you Draco's here. He's back, he's inside. And I hadn't noticed anything until he started playing with Ben and John. It took me a while, it was so long ago, but I figured it out. I have to say I don't approve and I almost don't believe it, but past is past, and you're secret's safe with me. I just wonder if anybody else will figure it out." She stands to leave.
"Hermione..." but Ginny was cut off.
"I don't need any explanations. Past is past." She repeated, and walks inside. Not a minute later, though, she is replaced with the man Ginny had seen earlier.
"Hello, Ginny."
"Draco." Ginny bites her lip. She's bursting inside, dying to throw her arms around him and kiss him and tell him how much she's missed him. She's dying to tell him about John, as if he didn't already know. She wants to cry again, but she won't let herself. She won't let herself look at him and she looks around her backyard and up to the trees and the sky, and the notices for the first time that this day is a reflection of the day he left her almost ten years ago.
"Those are your boys inside?"
Ginny nods, "Ben is nine, John is six." Ben is yours! Ben is yours! She thinks to him, still without looking at him, and she wonders if there's still that sort of connection between them that there once was.
"Ben's eyes..."
"Yes." she sighs, with relief? Regret? "Yes." Ginny repeats. He covers her hand with his and she is so happy to feel his touch again, after so many years, but it feels so wrong. Before she can stop herself she's looking at him. He looks concerned, but there's a glimmer of happiness in his eyes, that, too, are brimmed with tears. They're so close, and she can see signs of aging, but he's too young for that. He's just starting to make tracks in the years of thirty. His hair is long, shorter than it once was, but still long, and he has a small, horizontal scar above his left eyebrow.
"They seem like good boys."
"They are." Silence overtakes them, both of them afraid to tell each other what they're dying to say.
"I missed you. So much." He tells her touching her jaw, just to feel her again. She nods, slowly, looking at his lips.
"Muuum!" John yells from inside. Ginny gives Draco one last look, and leaves to go inside.
Unfortunately, once she is inside, people come up to her once again commiserating over her loss, their loss, and they only release her to other people who have the same goal. This continues for the next thirty to forty- five minutes before eveyone decides to leave, just after six, just before Ginny looses her sanity. She sends the boys upstairs, while she cleans what little mess the guests have made. Once the trash is taken out, she falls onto the couch and feels the same loneliness that she felt earlier.
Draco. Ginny hadn't seen him since before she was called inside. She wonders when he left. Mercy, she's missed him so much and she wonders if he'll come back. The loss of Harry is still fresh in her mind and so is Hermione's confession and Draco's return. She's unnerved by all of this, and can't think of anything better to do than take a warm bath and drink some tea with it.
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Full cup of tea in hand, Ginny makes her way to the stairs, when she sees the shadow of a man outside the rear door's window. It startles her enough to make her drop her cup, which breaks and spill onto the floor, but she has a good idea who it is.
"Draco?" she calls, unsure, that is until he opens the door with a shy smile.
"Hello."
"You haven't left yet?"
He cleans up the mess she's made with his wand. "Sorry. I suppose I got caught up?" he wonders if that is the right term.
She nods, "I was going to take a bath."
"With a cup of tea?"
"Hoped it would calm me. Usually works." She shrugs. He laughs, quietly.
"I almost forgot you did that."
"Yeah."
"Yeah. Well, I suppose I'll go."
"Okay." He reaches the front door, when she calls for him. "Will you come back?"
"Do you want me to?" he half turns to her, and she nods, slighty. Then he walks up to her, touches her chin and kisses her partially. "Then I will," and he's gone, out the door and most likely Disapparated. Ginny is left to make another cup of tea, with firewhisky and tears this time, and to take a very long bath. Maybe all the fluids will drown her guilt.
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Later that night, she tucks in Ben.
"Aren't I getting a little old to be tucked in?" he asks.
"Perhaps. But look at it this way: when I do tuck you in, you get to distract me, which lets you try and sneak your way into staying up later."
"Lots of good it does me. Now if I could watch the tele while I distract you ..." he grins, and so does she. A Slytherin in the making... is that a good thing?
"Goodnight." and she goes to the door, only to pause halfway at the sound of Ben calling her.
"Who, exactly, is Mr. Malfoy?" You're real father, she thinks, of course she doesn't say it.
"An old friend."
"Of father's?"
"Of mine." her voice fails her slightly.
"He's nice."
"He is."
"Will he – will he be back?"
"I believe so. Is that alright? Is it ... would you mind?"
"He's nice." Ben repeats. "He reminds me of someone." If only you knew, she thinks, but she only nods.
"Goodnight, Ben."
"Goodnight, Mum."
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It's been almost two weeks since Harry's funeral, and Ginny's beginning to feel the cold. She's been upset since she first heard of his death, but now she feels the cold that came whenever he used to leave her for long periods of time when he went on his missions.
She hasn't touched anything of his, not his old Quidditch things, not his clothes, not his pictures, nothing. She can't. She feels too much like she's trying to erase him already, especially since Draco came back the very day Harry's death was truly recognized. How could I be so cruel? She wonders sometimes. But she's always loved both of them. Always, the same. Now, she was free. Wasn't she? She should have been. Funnily enough, this should have made it easy. But it wasn't, because not so deep down, she still felt the guilt. The horrible, terrible guilt, but the need to chase away the cold was undeniable.
It's for that reason that Ginny cannot turn Draco away when he comes to her that Monday morning when the boys are off at their tutors. They lay in bed, and the past is present again. They talk about their lives now and they can laugh, and even at the mention of Harry, Ginny can smile, because they are good memories, and they include her boys.
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Months passed and Draco was able to make his way into their lives. All of their lives, not only Ginny's, John's and Ben's, but Hermione's and Ron's and the rest of the Weasley's, Lupin's, Tonk's, Shacklebolt's, all of their lives. It was amazing how it happened. It was so subtle. Just the Slytherin way to do it. No one even suspected he would take Harry's place, but somehow he did, and it was easy. He went out with the Weasley brothers and took the boys to the Quidditch World Cup in August. He was there when Ben got his Hogwarts letter and he was with Ginny and John to see him off. He discussed books with Hermione and even took an interest in Muggles for Mr. Weasley. Nobody saw it coming, and nobody noticed when it did.
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It's Christmas holidays, and Ben and John come home from their grandparents to find their mum and Mr. Malfoy sitting down in their living room talking and laughing. Mr. Malfoy smiles when they see them and so does Mum, but Mum's smile is more nervous. The kind that one of them give her when one of them gets caught playing with her wand, or breaking something.
"Hello Ben. Hello John." Mr. Malfoy says looking at each of them in turn and looking at Ben for a moment longer. The greet him back almost in unison so that when Ben says 'Hel-', John says 'lo.'
"Boys, we have something to tell you?" Ginny asks them.
"Yes?"
"Yeah?"
"Mr. Malfoy – Draco – is going to be your ..." Ginny falters momentarily, nervous. "He's going to be your new step-father." There's a momentary silence and suddenly.
"YEAH!"
"Really?"
"That's great!"
"Excellent!"
"Honest?"
"You're really happy about it?" Draco asks.
"Of course!" they yell in unison, and Ginny and Draco are relieved.
Surprisingly, for Ginny, and – so she thinks – Draco, everybody else has the same reaction. Even Hermione, which Ginny wonders about, but doesn't question.
They have a grand wedding in July on the thirty-first and everyone is invited. They all celebrate, they're all happy for the family. Ben and John now have a father to look up to, and Ginny has someone to love and take care of her, and Draco has all he ever wanted. A loving Ginny as his wife, a son of his own and the world is almost completely rid of Harry James Potter –Draco takes a quick look at John – almost.
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And by the way… they never found the murder of one Harry James Potter or of one John Harry Potter.
THE ABSOLUTE END!A/N: I almost hate to end it this way, but I get grim satisfaction from it.