- I can smell her on you. - Ginny said, crossing her arms. She was trying to look tough, but tears were slowly falling from her eyes.
She never expected something like this to happen - not from Harry, at least. She was convinced they had one of those strong relationships she saw on some muggle movies, who could prevail everything. Maybe she was wrong, after all. Maybe the life without adventure - without the possibility of begin killed every now and then - made him bored. The idea of him looking for "fun" with someone else because his wife wasn't satisfactory enough made Ginny sick.
- I-I don't know what are you talking about, Gin. - Harry said, a little uneasy. It almost made Ginny laugh: Harry never learned how to lie. Not after all this years, probably never would.
But even if he could, there was no denying in what was happening: always getting home later, avoyding to touch her, going in "trips" or "missions" that only he seemed to be needed - and now her perfume in his clothes, something citric that made her throat hurts.
And her heart, as well.
- More than fifteen years of marriage... three children... and you couldn't even tell it in my face. - she wanted to scream, to hit him, to do something her mother would do, but she couldn't. She couldn't even bring herself to look at him. Ginny heard him saying something like "it's not what you're thinking", but she wasn't listening anymore.
Locking the bedroom door behind her, Ginny sat on the floor, trying desperately to let the tears flow out. She couldn't, either. There was only one thing she could do...and it was rip the bitch's face off.
- Good morning, Mrs. Potter. - Ginny didn't know most of people who greeted her. It wasn't something new, of course: being the wife of the Boy-Who-Survived-Died-And-Lived-Again, she was used to people talking to her like they were friends or something. Some of them, however, looked worried; did they know about Harry and the other woman? How long was it going on, then?
Distracted, Ginny didn't realized someone was on the way until she hit it.
- Sor- she tried to say, but before finishing the word, the same perfume she felt in Harry's clothes filled her nose, leaving Ginny static.
- Is everything okay, Mrs. Potter? - she recognized the voice, even before looking in his pale face. Draco Malfoy, even after all these years, hadn't changed much.
She tried to answer, but could only think about the last thing Harry said last night: "it's not what you're thinking".
It definitely wasn't what she thought.
After all, Ginny was convinced Harry was cheating on her with another woman.