IMPORTANT: This story has been translated into Chinese and Spanish by Chloe PR China and Chuchufleta PL respectively! Find the links in my bio and share to your friends who are looking for Drarry written in Chinese and Spanish!

This story can also be found on AO3 (Archive of Our Own) under the same title and username. :)

UPDATE 2/1/18: THE SEQUEL IS NOW OUT!

Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to our Queen, JKR. Everything else is mine.

Chapter 1

The Beginning of The Lies

[22 October 2011]

11:43 PM

He awoke with a start, covered in sweat, panting and gasping for breath. He sat still, eyes darting around as he tried to see in the dark. Fumbling for a moment, he found his wand and cast a wordless Lumos spell, slowly moving his hand in a wide arc. When he was convinced that there were no uninvited visitors in the room, he leant back against the pillows and sighed.

Breathing deeply, he focused on calming his racing heart as he swiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. Ginny stirred beside him, and he turned to find her watching him, bleary-eyed.

"Harry? What's wrong?" she rasped, her words thick with sleep.

"It's nothing; go back to sleep," he whispered. She eyed him for a moment longer before nodding and turning away.

He watched as her breathing slowed, and once he was sure she was back under the lull of sleep, he flicked his wand and muttered a few spells. When all the protective enchantments were in place, he set his wand down on the bedside table, cracked open one of the drawers, and, after some rummaging, pulled out a small vial. He squinted at the label, found it was the wrong one, and after searching for a moment longer, found the right one: a vial of Potion for Dreamless Sleep.

Tipping a substantial amount of the liquid down his throat, he returned it to its spot and lowered himself under the blankets, pulling it all the way up till his chin.

He stared at the ceiling till he felt the familiar tug of unconsciousness pull at his senses and willingly gave in as it drew him under its veil of blackness.

[23 October 2011]

10:51 AM

"You're getting nightmares again?"

He nodded as Hermione placed a steaming cup of tea on the table and eased into the chair across from him.

"Does Ginny know?"

"Of course not."

"How come?"

He rolled his eyes at her and said, "Because I didn't tell her. Why do you think?"

Hermione pursed her lips and clasped her hands together.

"So why is it that you're telling me this when your wife doesn't know?"

"If you didn't want me to tell you, you should have said so before I—"

"I didn't mean it like that," she cut in, waving a hand. "All I meant was that I'm surprised that you came to me first."

"You're my best friend, Hermione. What's so surprising about it?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but there was a ping from the kitchen and she bustled away. He sipped on his tea slowly as he waited for her to come back, and she did, about five minutes later, with a tray of freshly-baked biscuits in her hands.

She laid the biscuits out to cool on the side table and returned to her seat.

"So, as I was saying," she began as she took off her oven mitts and placed them on the table. "You should tell Ginny."

"Hermione, if I could talk to Ginny about this, I wouldn't be here, now, would I?" he snapped, frustrated that she wouldn't just let it go.

Being the stubborn person that she was, though, she simply gave him an endearing sort of look and sat back, as though waiting for him to explain himself.

He sighed.

"The kids will be back from the Burrow tomorrow, and if I tell Ginny that the nightmares about my memories of the war and all of my death-defying moments are coming back to haunt me when it's been a decade since the last ones…you know how she is, Hermione. She'll become hyper-conscious of every single thing that I do, and the kids will start to notice."

She had a thoughtful expression on her face and finally nodded. "I suppose you're right. She does take after her mother, after all."

He snorted at that and reached for a biscuit—only to have his hand smacked away. "Hey!"

"Let me cool it; don't be in such a rush," she admonished as she flicked her wand and cast a cooling spell on the tray. "There, now you can have some."

"May I?" he asked sarcastically, and she nodded, smiling.

"Yes, you may."

He rolled his eyes as he took a biscuit and bit into it, humming at the way it melted in his mouth.

"Is it good?" she asked nervously.

He wondered if he should pretend like it wasn't just to tease her but decided against it. Knowing Hermione, she'd probably make a new batch and force him to stay till they were done so he could taste-test them for her. "It's amazing! Who knew, huh?"

"And of course you have to say it in a way that makes me wonder if it's meant to be a compliment or an insult," she said flatly, looking miffed.

He grinned and relaxed, glad that he'd decided to come talk to her. "See? This is exactly why I came to you first. If you were Ginny, you'd be dragging me off to some Mind Healer just about now."

The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to hide her smile. "Well, it's out of concern that she does what she does."

"I know that. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it, though." He didn't mean to make it sound like he was complaining, but the way Hermione's forehead creased into a worried frown made him wave his hand and try to make light of his words. "It's like you and Ron, except Ginny's far more reasonable when she isn't being completely adamant about something."

Hermione didn't look very convinced, but before she could reply, there was the gush of the Floo and Ron's voice called from the next room.

"He's home early," Hermione said as she stood, making for the door.

Harry grabbed her arm and gave her a pointed look. "I hope you remember that I told you this in confidence."

She frowned. "I know, Harry, and I won't tell Ginny unless you want me to."

"It isn't Ginny I'm worried about."

Hermione's eyes widened and she got a slack-jawed expression on her face. "You want me to lie to Ron?" she whispered hurriedly as Ron's footsteps echoed down the hall.

"You don't have to lie, just…don't tell him the truth," he whispered back, giving her a furious look.

"It's the same thing!"

"No, it's not!"

"Hermione, give me a hand, would you? Didn't you hear me shouting from the next room?"

They broke off their glaring contest as Ron stumbled into the room, his arms laden with bags upon bags.

"What in heaven's name is all this stuff?" Hermione exclaimed, helping to extricate Ron from under the bags.

Harry took most of them from Ron and dropped them on the table and chairs, peeking into one out of curiosity. "Ron…is this what I think it is…"

"Harry! There you are! I went over to your place and Ginny told me you were here so I had to come all the way back," Ron rambled as he rummaged around inside a bag and pulled out several boxes.

"Here," he said, handing over a box to Harry. "This is for you. And these," he gave four to Hermione, "are for us!"

"Mobile phones?" Harry and Hermione said together, sharing a look.

"That's right! I saw these on sale when I was out buying things for the shop and I thought why not, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Hermione snapped, crossing her arms. "Please explain to me why you wasted so much money on buying more mobile phones when we already have enough?"

"Wasting money, she says," Ron laughed, pecking his wife on the cheek. "Even though you're a Muggleborn."

"That has nothing to do with anything," Hermione huffed, going red in the face. "We already have mobile phones; why in the world do we need more?"

Ron frowned. "Because those aren't the newest kind."

Hermione gave him an incredulous look, as though she simply didn't see the logic behind his reasoning. "That makes no sense, Ron! We don't need new phones; the ones we have work perfectly fine!"

Sensing the beginning of another row, Harry tried to excuse himself without drawing too much attention. Unfortunately for him, Ron had other plans.

"Don't forget to take this, mate," he said, placing the box that Harry'd put down back in his hands and grinning at him. "I left Ginny one when I went over and tried to give her the ones for the kids but she insisted I speak with you first."

"I wonder why," Hermione grumbled from behind her husband as she inspected the boxes. "Ron! These are all the latest models! How much did you spend on these?"

He shrugged as he made to open one. "Dunno, I just handed over the money and the shop lady did what she had to."

Both Harry and Hermione stared at Ron.

"Alright, that's it, we're returning all of these," Hermione said crisply, piling the boxes together and putting them back in the bag.

"What, why? I paid a lot for those!"

"And for no reason, too! One phone, or even two, is understandable, Ron, but eight?"

"Ten, if you count mine and Ginny's."

"Ronald!"

"Alright, you two, that's enough. Ron, Hermione's right. We don't really have any use for these phones. Especially the kids. What're they even going to do with Muggle phones? I don't want them getting used to them at such a young age, and you know they don't work anywhere near Hogwarts' enchantments, let alone inside them," Harry reasoned, putting the boxes in his arms away.

"Ah," Ron said, and Hermione smacked his arm. "Hey!"

"For goodness' sake, Ronald, please stop wasting money on rubbish," Hermione said sternly.

"Well, then, that's my cue to leave," Harry said just as Ron opened his mouth to retort.

"Oh, wait, I'll pack some of these biscuits for you and Ginny," Hermione said, emptying one of the smaller bags and placing half the biscuits in it.

"Thanks," Harry replied, and Hermione nodded, leading him out of the room. "Er, Hermione, I know where the Floo is—"

"You better decide how you're going to deal with your… situation, and you better do it fast. I can keep it a secret from Ron for as long as possible, but you live with Ginny, and she's much smarter than you give her credit for. You of all people should know that," Hermione scolded in a hurried whisper.

He nodded and hugged her before walking to the fireplace.

"Oh, and Harry?" she called as he stepped under the mantle and threw down the Floo powder.

"Yeah?"

"Take care of yourself."

12:02 PM

"Oh, good, perfect timing. Here, help me with this."

He walked up to where Ginny was trying to keep a rather large banner hanging in mid-air and held up one end to keep it steady.

"What's this?" he asked curiously, leaning over to eye the blank banner.

"A little higher, Harry, that's right," Ginny said, ignoring his question. He raised his hand as she fiddled with the other end, moving her wand slowly so it didn't drop.

"What's this for?" he asked again as she took a step back to admire her handiwork.

"Angie's birthday," came the distracted reply, and he sighed as he watched her pin the edge to the curtain.

"How much longer do I have to hold this up for?" he called when she left the room, muttering to herself.

"One more minute! Gosh, you act as though I'm forcing you to do it," came the muffled reply, and he sighed in annoyance.

Lately, his relationship with Ginny had gotten sort of… tense, if he had to put it in a nice way. He had thought that he was at fault, at first, considering how much he'd been away recently due to all the Auror work, and his insomnia, but Ginny wasn't making it any better.

Initially, she hadn't really complained all that much, saying she understood that his work was important, but during the past couple months, she'd constantly been on edge. The stress from the upcoming tournaments she was supposed to cover was taking a toll on her. Considering that—and her already-fiery temper—Harry had decided to ship the children off to all their cousins' houses every chance he got. It was either that or deal with everyone screaming at the top of their lungs and Lily's incessant crying.

He had decided to take the week off from work when the kids got back from their weekend at the Burrow, and Ginny had promised to do the same as well, but he could sense that she wasn't wholly happy about it. In fact, she seemed to get grumpier by the hour, constantly complaining about something or the other and cleaning the house over and over again.

She needed a break from their everyday life. They needed a break, and he planned to make use of the upcoming week for just that, but somehow he had a feeling his wife had other plans.

"Ginny, do I have to hold this up? Can't I just Levitate it?" he yelled when it didn't seem like she was coming back anytime soon.

When there was no answer, he swore under his breath and, pulling out his wand, pointed it at the banner.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

The large streamer fluttered and then hovered in place. He slowly raised his wand till both ends were level and then nodded.

Ginny came bustling in just then, her arms laden with colourful party decorations. She took one look at the floating banner, and then at Harry's wand, and with a satisfied nod, went about her business. He sighed as he eased into the nearest armchair, leaning back and resting his elbow on the armrest as he kept the banner hovering in mid-air.

"So why exactly do I need to keep this thing hanging in the air when you're clearly not doing anything with it?" he asked as Ginny began to string together some of the decorations.

"Oh, you can put it down now," she replied offhandedly, without looking up from what she was doing.

Exhausted as he was from his lack of sleep and all the recent stress, he managed to lower the banner to the ground while muttering in complaint, sat back, and let his eyes slip closed.

Ginny started humming after a minute—a song that he recognised from their wedding day. It was the one that they had shared their first dance to. He smiled as he let the melody lull his tired mind into the much-needed realm of sleep.

When he opened his eyes, it was to the sight of a burning ocean. He cried out as waves of lava lapped against the rocky shore and scrambled onto the jagged boulders in order to escape the molten undulations.

He had just made some headway up the rather unstable peak when it began to crumble, turning into fine sand under his fingertips. Watching as the dark granules flowed down his palm, he shuddered as the shrill call of a bird echoed above him.

A Phoenix circled just below the stormy clouds, its fiery wings outstretched and its beak parted in song. He could barely hear its woeful cries as the waves continued to crash against the rocks, their molten touch eating away at everything they came in contact with.

The Phoenix continued to sing as he began to climb the collapsing rock, his footholds falling away the second he raised his toes off of them. Gasping for breath, suffocated by the smoke that rose from the ocean of lava, he struggled in his ascent, eyes watering as he tried to see through the thick cloud of dust.

He had just reached the top, exclaiming with joy, when a shadow loomed over the edge. Fumbling for his wand, he realised he didn't have it on him, and he watched as the smoke cleared to reveal the sneering face of Voldemort.

In his moment of shock, his hold on the grimy surface slipped, and he was falling, straight into the burning ocean—straight into hell.

4:13 PM

He jerked awake, raking a hand through his hair and finding it wet with sweat. He sat up, disoriented and confused. It took him a moment to find his wand and another moment to Summon his glasses. He placed them on the bridge of his nose and scanned the living room.

The sun had gone down, so he had been asleep for a good portion of the afternoon, and Ginny's decorations and banner were no longer strewn across the floor. In fact, it seemed like there had been no sign of activity in the room for quite a while.

Panicking, and still disoriented from his nightmare, he stumbled out of the armchair, calling for his wife.

"Ginny! Gin, where are you?"

He eyed the shawl that had fallen to the floor when he'd stood and picked it up just as Ginny rushed into the room.

"I'm here, Harry. What's wrong?" she asked, her brown eyes wide with worry.

He shook his head and hugged her, kissing her hair. "No, it's nothing. I thought you weren't home."

"I was in your study," she said, holding him close and giving him a searching look. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"No," he answered rather forcefully, making her frown. She's already suspecting that my nightmares are back, he thought in alarm. "No, I'm not. I just woke up and didn't see the banner and the other stuff, so I thought you'd left."

Ginny shook her head. "Why would I leave? I just moved everything to your study because I had more access to stationery there."

"Yeah," he said, laughing lightly. He was being paranoid for no reason. The nightmares were starting to affect him far more than he wanted them to.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, no, you're right. I just panicked, sorry."

She watched him for a moment longer and then offered him a small smile. "Why don't I make you a cup of tea?" she asked, pecking him on the cheek.

"That would be great, thanks," he said with a smile.

She nodded and walked to the kitchen isle, giving him a moment to calm himself. He inhaled shakily and ran the tip of his wand over his body and clothes, cleaning himself with a simple freshening charm Hermione and Ginny had stumbled upon when trying and failing to get the kids to clean themselves.

He walked over to the counter and perched on the seat, placing his arms on the tabletop and leaning forward with a sigh. His eyes slipped half-shut as he watched Ginny pour the tea into a rather large mug and place it in front of him.

"You look exhausted," she commented as he took the mug without complaint.

"Been having a tough week at the office," he murmured as he sipped the scalding liquid, revelling at the burn in his throat.

She hummed as she rummaged through the cupboards and extricated a bottle of Firewhiskey from the back of a cabinet. She held it out to him, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Alcohol before dinner?" he asked, although he pushed his mug forward and let her pour a generous amount into it.

"It's not every day that you get to sit down and relax and have some Firewhiskey with your tea," she answered as she brought out a glass for herself.

"When have I ever had Firewhiskey with my tea?"

"Exactly," she said, tipping her glass towards him with a wink.

He couldn't help but grin at that. It had been a while since the feisty Ginny he'd married had resurfaced over the rather stressed out, easily angered one she had turned into lately.

"So," he started as she downed her drink in one shot. "I was thinking we really should spend this week away from home like we'd planned. Take the kids out. Have some fun."

He watched as she poured herself another glass and swirled the dark liquid around, staring at it without replying.

"Or maybe not the whole week," he said quickly, not wanting to ruin the homely mood they had just created. "At least a few days after the kids get back—"

"I can't."

Taking a long swig from his mug, he let the angry burn of the Firewhiskey trail down his throat before he placed it down and sighed. He had expected this sooner or later, but he had hoped it would be later.

"Why's that?" he asked, conscious to keep the accusing tone from his voice.

"It's Angie's birthday—"

"As you've told me already. What does that have to do with anything?"

She winced at the sharpness of his tone, but he didn't feel guilty about it. He finished the rest of his mug and poured himself more Firewhiskey.

"Harry, haven't you had enough—"

"Answer the question," he snapped irritably.

She sighed as she tapped her glass, staring at the tabletop and refusing to meet his eye. Frustrated by that, he reached forward and, placing his finger under her chin, forced her to look up at him. The second he saw the turmoil in her eyes, though, his anger seemed to dissipate—although it didn't disappear completely. What had been a furious rumble had simmered down to a quiet hiss.

"Ginny," he urged, and she pulled away, dropping her gaze once again.

He waited, knowing that she would tell him eventually. If there was one thing he had learnt from being married to her for a little over a decade, it was that Ginny was someone who needed to be given space and time, and lots of patience. She would come forth with whatever she wanted to say on her own, and pressurising her wouldn't help in the least. In fact, pushing her worked to the opposite effect.

"It's just," she finally began, after fiddling around with random things kept on the counter. "Angie said something a few weeks ago… and I thought it would be a good idea…"

When she didn't continue even after a long pause, he shifted in his seat and asked, "What did she say?"

Ginny looked up at him then, and he instantly recognised the guilt and fear in her eyes. She thought she was doing something terrible. Knowing that itself placated him far more than anything she could have told him, would have. He could take a guess as to what this grand plan of Angelina's was, but he wanted to hear it from Ginny, so he relaxed his features into a reassuring smile and nodded.

She inhaled and then blurted out whatever she wanted to say as quickly as possible. "Angie managed to get a week off from the Harpies because of her sprained wrist. She's been instructed not to play till the tournament practices begin. So since she has the time off anyway, and her birthday's coming up, she wanted to take us girls out on a trip."

Unsure of why exactly Ginny had such a hard time telling him this story, he frowned and nodded.

"Yeah, alright. How long will you be gone?"

Ginny looked up at him, a disbelieving look on her face. "You're OK with me going?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not? Angelina's probably having a hard time as it is, being banned from Quidditch and all, plus I know you've been quite stressed out about covering the tournament this season, so it'll be good for you."

Sipping on his drink, he watched as Ginny fumbled around, looking lost for words. He wasn't really sure why she was reacting that way and wondered if he would ever find out—or if he even wanted to.

"Well, I suppose so, but…"

"But?" he prompted, sitting back in his seat.

"You've been looking forward to this trip for quite a while now, and you even took time off from work and everything…"

He shrugged. "You'd made these plans a while back, I'm assuming, and I know how important your friendship with Angelina is… besides, I can still take the kids out, though it won't really be the same without you."

She half-sighed, half-gasped as she hugged him awkwardly over the table top, kissing him on the cheek. "Oh, Harry, thank you for being so understanding."

"I'm your husband; that's what I do," he said, raising his mug in a toast.

She laughed airily and almost skipped around the counter, kissing him again and all but running out of the room with a hurried, "I absolutely must tell everyone the good news."

He watched her disappear out the door and turned back to his drink, staring at the remnants of it at the very bottom of his mug. A nagging sensation was tugging at the back of his mind, but he ignored it as he finished off the last bit of Firewhiskey and moved to the sink to rinse the mug clean.

Whatever it was that Ginny wasn't telling him—and she most definitely wasn't telling him the entire truth—would come out sooner or later. He wondered if this trip was what had put her in such a foul mood lately, and decided that their conversation had been for the best.

The kids would be home in less than a day, and his nightmares weren't going anywhere, so the happier Ginny was, the better. It would be simpler to keep his insomnia a secret from her when she was busy doing whatever she wanted to do than when he could constantly feel her intent gaze follow him around all day long.

He sighed, deciding that he may as well finish off what little bit of paperwork he had left since he wasn't about to get any sleep that night anyway.

[24 October 2011]

3:34 AM

He started awake and blinked, stretching as he realised he had fallen asleep over his paperwork. The lights were turned off, and he figured it must've been Ginny's doing. Yawning, he eyed the clock on the desk and his eyebrows shot up.

Half past three? How long have I been asleep?

He scratched his chin as he looked around, sleep clouding his vision. Groaning softly, he stretched his hand out to turn on the table lamp when he heard some rustling from the side. He went rigid, now wide awake, all his senses focused on the soft sound coming from his left.

Slowly reaching for his wand without a sound, he waved it so the door eased shut. Unable to make out the dark figure—who had not yet realised that he was awake—he flicked his wand again and all the lights in the study came on.

Squinting from the sudden brightness, it only took him a second to recognise who the intruder was.

"Ginny?" he asked, incredulous.

She stared at him wide-eyed, doubled over as she reached for something. Straightening up, she watched him, weary, her cheeks flushed and a guilty expression on her face.

"I…was just—" she blustered, motioning to the pile of party decorations and the rolled banner under her arm.

He frowned and shook his head. "Ginny, it's nearly four in the morning. What the hell are you doing?"

She placed the things in her arms down and turned to face him, pushing her short hair out of her face.

"I thought I'd come call you to bed, but I saw you sleeping and tried to wake you up, and when you wouldn't, I decided I didn't want to bother you, so I was about to leave—"

"And you decided to take the streamers with you?" he asked, the disbelief clear in his voice.

"No, I just thought—I nearly tripped over them so I was picking them up—"

"With the lights off?"

"I didn't want to disturb you!"

He shook his head, unconvinced. His irritation was rising back to the surface, and he wasn't in the mood to listen to his wife lie to his face in the middle of the night.

"Go back to bed," he told her, when she looked like she wanted to say something else. Whether it was his expression or his tone of voice, or whatever else, she simply nodded and moved towards the door.

Just before she stepped out, though, she bundled up the streamers and banner and everything else in her arms, and shut the door behind her. He stared at the dark wood and ruffled his hair in frustration.

He had been under the impression that Ginny's weird behaviour had more to do with the fact that he had been tense and moody of late, or the stress from her work, and after their previous conversation, Angelina's birthday, for some odd reason, but the way she was acting was far too suspicious. Grinding his teeth, he turned back to his unfinished paperwork, pushing Ginny and their troubled relationship aside for the morning.

A/n: Edit 16/11/17: So this is my very first and most beloved Drarry multi-chapter story that has received a lot of love. On popular demand, I decided to cross-post it on AO3 as well.

This story focuses on Harry's relationships mostly, with Ginny, Hermione and Ron, his kids, and a bunch of other people, and not just the Drarry relationship. You don't have to mind the dates and times in the story; they were originally added just for my reference while writing but I decided to leave them in.

Well, that's all from me, so do leave me a review with your thoughts and subscribe to me/this story to be notified when I update the epilogue or post the sequel.

P.S. if any of you have Drarry headcanons that you would like me to write, go ahead and leave them in a review or drop me a PM and I'll do the needful. :)

Lots of love~

Arty xx