I was bored, so I decided to write this out and post it as a continuation to my first chapter. I hope that everything in this chapter makes sense. As to why Harry and Ginny were ever together and as to why they remained together. Again, no beta for this, so I apologize if there's some grammar errors or canon contradictions. This is the best I can do right now :)
Enjoy!
Ginny Weasley Potter wasn't an idiot; nor was she blind.
She knew, the first time something had happened between her husband and her sister-in-law. It was apparent. There was a difference in the way she touched his arm, or the way he teased her, or maybe the way his emerald eyes held her chocolate gaze for a second longer.
It made Ginny's blood boil. It made her hate Hermione. But what could she do? She should have known this day was coming; Ginny had grabbed Harry at a young age, as soon as she could. She had been afraid to lose him, to disappoint her family - who were so expecting Harry as a son-in-law. What could they do but submit to the pressure and throw themselves into a marriage that was never on a solid foundation.
Ginny had been very insecure in her and Harry's early relationship. Maybe she didn't show it, maybe she did. But she was always ever aware of the fact Hermione had something from Harry that Ginny never could quite seem to; his unquestioning devotion.
She had thought that once she'd brought James into the world as a testament of her love for her raven haired husband, that he'd finally forget everything about Hermione. Ginny didn't care if it was a selfish thought, she would have challenged any woman to be the "third wheel" in her own marriage.
The truth was, she could never join on their trips-down-bloody-memory-lane. She wasn't a member of the "Golden Trio".
Harry never forgot Hermione Weasley, not in the least. Hermione and Ron would come over once a week for dinner, and Ginny would always smile and pretend she wasn't feeling second best next to the clever brunette.
She'd borne three children for Harry, been his doting wife, slept beside him at night, and tried to keep him happy. Only on the occasional nights that she slept alone did she allow herself to breathe to the crushing darkness that surrounded her, taunted her, filled her mind with worries as to what Harry was doing, "We were never meant for each other, were we?"
Then she'd look to the empty space beside her, slide her fingers against the cold sheets, and sigh. Perhaps that wasn't so far away from the truth.
Then, Hermione had happened. In a way that Ginny had always feared. Ginny didn't catch it the first evening they all spent together, but she quickly grew suspicious. Whether Harry was her soul-mate or not, she knew her husband. Even if he didn't truly know her, she knew the faint crease of guilt around his eyes. It told her everything she needed to know.
Several weeks after the evening they spent together, she was almost certain Harry had slept with Hermione because they weren't speaking. The whole evening, they didn't touch, didn't interact, and went around like the other didn't exist. It told Ginny that the guilt had finally gotten to them, but for how long would stop them, she didn't know.
Ginny closed her eyes and let herself drift off to the first time she'd confronted Harry...
Hermione, Ron and their children had just left. Ginny was hand-washing the dishes, and while she knew that this would be a giveaway to Harry that something was bothering her (she only washed the dishes by hand when she was upset), she didn't care. She found it strangely soothing, almost like she was washing away the dirt that had collected in their life.
Harry had just put the children to bed, and Ginny heard him enter the kitchen. She didn't turn to acknowledge his presence in the dark kitchen, with only the moonlight that poured through the window providing light.
"Hey," Harry said softly, stepping up beside her, grabbing a towel and starting to dry some of the plates that were stacked beside the sink. Ginny simply nodded, fighting past the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. She just didn't understand what Hermione had that she didn't. Hermione hadn't given him children, she hadn't given up a whole life for Harry.
But Ginny had still been betrayed. She just hadn't confirmed it.
"Those are dirty," Ginny spoke quietly, grabbing the two forks Harry was trying to put away. Harry didn't respond, simply came up beside her again. Ginny thought that maybe he was finally beginning to see that she knew. She knew.
"Ginny -" he started. But Ginny wasn't interested in hearing excuses.
"What does she have that I don't, Harry?" She hissed, cutting him off. She was still trying to keep herself calm, she didn't want to wake the children. She wanted to scream though, she wanted to scream and beat his chest with her fists, just to find out what Hermione had given him that she hadn't.
Harry froze like a deer in the headlights and Ginny didn't have to look at his face to see the guilt there.
"We never meant for you to find out," He finally said, dropping his hand towel on the dark counter.
Did he honestly think that was a good thing to say?
"So, what, you'll just shag behind my back and hope I never find out? It was all over you two tonight!" Some of the pain she felt finally broke into her words, her sharp tone rising above a whisper.
"I didn't mean it like that -"
"Then how the bloody hell did you mean it, Harry?"
"We're sorry. We didn't mean -"
"For it to happen, yeah right Harry. Don't insult me by wasting my time with words like that!"
"Ginny! We're trying to make this right!"
"Do you realize that you aren't just being unfaithful to me, but to my brother as well? Did that even cross your selfish minds?"
"We stopped it, Ginny!"
"For how long, Harry? Just for how long?" Ginny no longer tried to keep her voice down. "You've always loved her more, Harry. Loved her more than me, loved her more than this family, loved her more than everything. I'm sick of pretending I don't notice! I'm sick of pretending I can hardly be in the same room as her without seeing red! She stole you from me before we even began!"
"Ginny, I love you! I swear!" Harry seemed to be getting a touch angry at this point. Ginny was almost relieved; now her harsh words were even more justified.
"Just like you love your kids?" Ginny asked, her tone turning accusing. "You didn't just cheat on me...you cheated on your children."
That stopped Harry in his tracks, he paused for a moment, before hanging his head and finally saying, "She said that, too."
"Well at least she still has some sense," Ginny sighed, crossing her arms. Harry looked back up into Ginny's eyes, placing his hands on her shoulders.
Suddenly, Ginny's mind was filled with images of where those hands had been. Harry, sweat covered, panting and caressing Hermione, holding her, touching her in places so intimate that Hermione arched her back, letting out a loud moan of pleasure. Ginny could have vomited right then. She jerked his hands off of her, "I don't want the hands that touched Hermione on me," she spat.
Harry had nothing to say, and Ginny knew why. She was right. Another wave a nausea swept over her, enough this time that she instinctively leaned over the sink and dry heaved. Then the tears flowed down her cheeks freely, as she covered her mouth with her hand and sunk to the ground, leaning her head against the counter. Sharp sobs shook her shoulders as the full depth of his betrayal sank in.
"I lost you before we even began." She moaned with grief as Harry sunk down beside her. "I lost you the moment you met her. You were never mine."
"Ginny," Harry whispered, tears in his own eyes. "I'm so, so sorry. It won't happen again." He again tried to put his hands on Ginny's but she slid away from him. Harry stood, looking around, as if trying to figure out how to comfort her without touching her. The pain on his face stabbed at Ginny's heart, despite her anger. She looked up at Harry almost apologetically.
"I'm sorry, but you can't touch me without me thinking of - of..." she trailed off, making a circle with her fingers, her meaning clear.
"Let me hold you, Ginny. Please," Harry pleaded. "We stopped; we're not going to do it again. It's over."
"Why?" Ginny asked suddenly.
"What?" Came Harry's almost confused reply.
"Why is it over between you two?"
There was a small silence before Harry answered, "We couldn't live like that." It was all he had to say; he didn't have to explain that statement. Ginny understood. They couldn't live with the guilt, the lies.
They're too noble for that, She thought, almost bitterly.
Suddenly, she realized Harry was washing his hands and she looked at him in confusion. He stood there, scrubbing his hands for almost a minute, before washing the soap away and wiping his hands on a clean hand towel. He crouched down beside Ginny again, holding his hands up as if for an inspection.
"See? She's gone, Ginny. Scrubbed away."
Ginny knew it was his last idea, and she let out a pained half laugh, half sob. She looked in his green eyes, and reached up a hand, placing it flat against his palm. The nausea didn't hit her this time, and she closed her eyes as he wrapped his warm arms around her, rocking gently back and forth and kissing the top of her head.
Ginny knew that Hermione was not gone. Knew that the brunette was burned into Harry's skin, into his soul now. But, she'd probably always been like that.
Ginny knew that Harry had just lied a little to her, but she just herself be held by him, and pretended, for just a moment, that Harry Potter was hers. Just hers...
As far as Ginny knew, that was the end of Hermione and Harry's affair. If anything happened after that, he concealed it from her. But whether he stayed faithful to her or not, Ginny couldn't help but wonder at times if he was truly seeing her. Was he picturing her, when they made love, heated and furious, as if they were both trying to hold onto whatever feelings they had for each other? Or did he see her? His "other woman"? Was it her he saw when they laughed together, hands on each other, smiles wide?
Harry might have stayed true to Ginny physically after that, but Ginny knew that his heart was somewhere else, and that was more damning that anything else.
When the news of Harry's death reached her, she couldn't believe. Not Harry. He'd survived Voldemort! How could he die now?
But it was true, and at Harry's funeral, she'd seen that pain on Hermione's face. It mirrored her own, and Ginny took some twisted comfort in knowing that Hermione felt her pain. The brunette finally understood what it was like not having Harry. Then she'd run off, Neville close behind her, and Ginny knew what Hermione was feeling, and the jealousy that Ginny felt towards Hermione fell away for one infinite second, one fleeting moment that Ginny fed for as long as she could. Hermione was just as heart grieved as Ginny, just as broken, just as filled with anguish.
Ginny understood Hermione.
Hermione understood Ginny.
It was this that brought another set of tears to Ginny's eyes. Even in death Harry gave Ginny pieces of understanding. Ginny didn't have to hate Hermione; they were both hurting. Had both been hurting.
When Hermione returned, Ginny wasted no time walking over to the brunette and wrapping her in a bone crushing hug, and to Ginny's surprise, Hermione returned the embrace as strongly. Two women, mourning the loss of the man they loved. The man they had stood by, had their hearts broken by, and had been loved by each in different ways.
Pulling apart, Ginny walked away from Hermione, back to her children. "Let's go home," she said, taking one last look at Harry's grave. "Goodbye, my love." She whispered, taking Lily and Albus by the hands and as a family the Potter's made their way home.
So what did you think? I am not really a Ginny fan, but I felt that what I wrote was more emotionally charged than the normal "freak out and start throwing stuff" Ginny. I just wanted to do something different. Review pllleassse! -Starbuck.
