What Ginny Forgot

by Keeperofthemoon0

"After one too many hits to the head from a Bludger, you've forgotten the past ten years," Malfoy said slowly, staring at her as if she were dumb. "You've forgotten you have kids and you've forgotten me. Your husband. Which is rather rude, you must admit." D/G

14. Day Eight, part four

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Title: What Ginny Forgot

Summary: "After one too many hits to the head from a Bludger, you've forgotten the past ten years," Malfoy said slowly, staring at her as if she were dumb. "You've forgotten you have kids and you've forgotten me. Your husband. Which is rather rude, you must admit." D/G

Disclaimer: None of it is mine!

Author's Note: PLEASE READ! One, as always, sorry for the long wait on this chapter! Before you continue on, please note that I had to change two parts of the timeline so that the events that occur in this chapter flowed smoothly. One event I had to change was the date of Draco and Ginny's wedding anniversary; it went from 3 days before Christmas to a little over a week before Christmas (stated in chapter 13). The other part was the sequence of memories in chapter 9 with Luna. That's all! Enjoy!

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There was something about Orion's smile that made everything else seem less important. Ginny supposed all parents felt like that, of course, but her heart still melted a little every time that her darling baby smiled toothlessly up at her. Maybe it was because the baby had a habit of really making Draco and Ginny work for his smile that made it so magical.

Orion was far too serious.

They could spend hours making funny faces at Orion with no reward other than a dirty diaper or his cranky cries. It became one more thing that Draco and Ginny were rather competitive over—who could make Orion smile more? It was all in good fun, since it tended to end with Orion staring silently up at them while they cracked jokes to each other. Each joke would be increasingly more ridiculous.

"Enjoying the latest wizarding gossip?" Ginny asked Draco. "The Daily Prophet must be miserable now that they can't blab about us anymore."

The back of her feet hit the cupboards below her in a steady rhythm as she swung her legs, eyeing her husband as he read the morning paper. She licked clean the spoon, willing him to look at her. After a moment, Draco did, an unamused expression coloring his face that could rival Orion's.

"Ice cream for breakfast, Gin?" he replied, putting the paper down.

"I was up with Orion at three a.m. last night for over an hour. I think I deserve a reward."

Orion slapped his hands against the table, as though in response. Ginny's attention flickered over to him but he was staring hard at the tabletop, scattering pieces of banana about. She looked back to Draco, surprised to find him standing from his chair.

"I offered to get up with him."

"Right before you reminded me about your big meeting in the morning that you wouldn't want to look too tired for," Ginny shot back, grinning.

Draco smirked as he approached her.

"It wouldn't be becoming of me to look like a troll at work, not with investors present."

His stomach pressed against her knees as he filled her view.

Tilting her head back, Ginny kept her gaze locked on Draco's as he leaned close to her. She heard him push the bowl of ice cream to the side before he gripped her thighs gently.

"Is that how I look right now? Like a troll?"

"Not much worse than normal," Draco answered.

Laughter fought its way from her mouth as she slapped his arm. Ginny could feel his smile against her neck as he buried his face there. Then, abruptly, Draco stepped away. Her eyes widened when she saw he held her bowl of ice cream in his right hand.

"You prat!" Ginny shrieked. "That's my treat!"

"You know how I crave my sweets. You were teasing me. Rather rude, even you must admit that."

She hopped off the counter, lunging for the bowl, but Draco stepped out of her way easily. Glaring, she held up the spoon in her hand.

"And how do you expect to eat my ice cream without a spoon, hmm?"

Draco rolled his eyes, dancing around her when she tried to grab at him again.

"Oh, I'm not sure," he replied seriously. "How could I possibly eat this without a spoon? Perhaps if I took some pointers from your fool of a brother—"

Ginny ran at him. He turned before she could jump onto his front so she ended up grabbing awkwardly onto his back, reaching desperately for the bowl.

"You're horrible for denying your wife her food!" Ginny cried out as Draco laughed while twisting and turning to keep her away. "Really, I'll tell your mum—"

That made Draco laugh harder and Ginny began giggling too, even as she continued to try to get the ice cream back. She reached out, fingers grasping at his wrist, when a sound made them both freeze.

Looking to the left, they saw that Orion was watching them, loud giggles spilling from him. His chubby cheeks were red from the effort of it. Ginny stared in surprise, her breath catching. Orion had laughed at them before, quick bursts of amusement that generally followed one of his rare smiles, but this… this was much different.

Looking away from her son, Ginny noticed the warmth in Draco's expression as he too stared at Orion. After a moment, he turned and met her gaze, a soft smile curled on his lips. Then, as though in congratulations, he handed her back the bowl.

They were no longer in the kitchen at home. No, now Draco and Ginny were seated in Luna and Rolf's sunroom. Orion managed to grab onto some of Ginny's hair even though he was in Draco's arms, giving it a sharp tug that made her wince. Luna's excited chatter echoed off the windows as she spoke about the latest international trip she and Rolf had taken the twins on. The house morphed, darkening, and now Ginny was at the Burrow. Her mum was cooing over Orion, Hugo was sleeping upstairs, and Rose was taking up Arthur's attention as she sung some Muggle song Ginny didn't know.

One moment, Orion was crawling for the first time to Draco—Ginny heard Draco yelling for her to come quickly from her study. The next, the baby was shakily taking his first steps towards his father as Ginny hovered nearby, grinning; Draco was anxiously waving him closer.

Suddenly, Ginny was fighting back tears as her mum hugged her goodbye.

"I've watched plenty of babies before, dear. He'll be fine," Molly assured her.

Ginny sniffed loudly as she stepped out of her mum's embrace.

"It's not that. I mean, I trust you, of course I do. I just don't think I'm ready to go back to work."

Her mum smiled kindly, cupping Ginny's cheek.

"You've always loved flying. And I think you'll be happy to get back to it. If not, I doubt you'll find any resistance if you decide to stay home. Now set off before you get in trouble for being late to practice. You've been talking about this for weeks now. Orion and I will be here when you get back."

Ginny nodded, putting on a brave face that was hardly genuine, and glanced at Orion. He was about to knock over Molly's bag of knitting supplies. Automatically, Ginny went to grab it, but her mum waved her wand without even turning to look at the baby. The bag lifted off the table and hung suspended in the air, just out of Orion's reach.

"Go, Ginny," Molly ordered.

It was months later—at least, it felt like it—and the wind rushed through her hair as she raced towards the goal posts. Underneath her arm, the Quaffle was secure and snug. She knew she'd be able to easily get the Quaffle through the hoop; the Keeper was covering the far right post as she raced towards the left and would never make it in time to keep the Quaffle away. When the Quaffle left her grasp, soaring through the hoop, the crowd's cheers were deafening.

She pumped a fist in the air and turned, her eyes automatically scanning the section she knew her husband was in. It wasn't hard to spot Draco, so pale compared to everyone else, nor the baby he held with the obnoxiously bright red locks. Ginny grinned and saw Draco lift Orion's arm so that he pumped the air as she had only moments ago.

The sound of the crowd disappeared, replaced instead with the rustle of bedsheets and heavy breathing. Her fingers curled in the strands of Draco's hair, tugging lightly as she guided his lips to hers. Abruptly, she was stretching at practice with Maggie, who was informing Ginny all about her latest breakup. The Quidditch pitch faded away into Neville's backyard as she did lunch there with him and Luna.

Next was tea with Narcissa, who had taken to indulging Orion with a gift or treat every time they met up, before the memory twisted into Orion babbling different words to the delight of Draco and Ginny. One moment she was rushing home from work to relieve her mum from watching Orion and the next she was jumping into Draco's arms when he returned home from a short trip.

Bill and Fleur decided to move when Louis was born. Harry bought the property from Bill, a quick exchange that no one in the Weasley family was bothered over. And… the wind from the sea pulled at her hair. Ginny felt a strange sense of loss over Bill and his family moving, of them leaving Shell Cottage. But then she spotted Bill and Draco talking animatedly together about where Bill was planning on moving to, their bare feet sandy, and Victoire was splashing water on Orion's chubby legs and he was laughing so loudly that it seemed to drown out the sound of the ocean.

She smiled.

There were countless Ministry balls—whenever Draco's gaze met her own, she'd roll her eyes and his lips would twitch and she'd think about the first Ministry ball she had gone to where he kissed her out on the balcony. Sometimes, after circling the ballroom to network, they'd end up in an empty room, their harsh breathing broken by moans and laughter. Other times, they'd have a glass too much of wine or scotch and would end up at the table with Blaise and Pansy, giggling into their hands at something stupid Blaise had said.

It was after a long day with Ron, where they mercifully teased each other while watching the children—Draco and Hermione were both at work—that she approached Draco with an idea.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"I think we should have another baby."

Draco, who had been laying on his side beside Orion as the toddler played with his toys, looked up at her in alarm.

"Well, I certainly hadn't been expecting that."

"I like to keep you on your toes," Ginny said, winking.

He smirked and Orion glanced in her direction.

"Mama!" he proudly cried out.

Ginny slid off the couch onto the floor beside Draco and Orion. She reached out and ran her hands through Orion's curls, smiling at him.

"Orion's not even two," Draco reminded her, bringing her attention back to the conversation she started. "And you'd have to miss another season with the Harpies."

He paused.

"What's brought this on?"

Glad that he didn't seem too against the idea, she shrugged.

"Hanging out with Ron today reminded me of what fun having a sibling is."

"Hanging out with him reminded you of that?"

His smirk grew when she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. And Rose and Hugo; they're so close in age. They do everything together—"

"They also fight— all the time," Draco pointed out warily. "As do you and your brother."

She poked him with her foot. He swatted it away.

"Just because we fight doesn't mean it's not fun having someone around to get into mischief with. Or talk to all the time. Yeah, Ron can be really annoying sometimes but… but there's also this sort of loyalty that siblings have that no one else understands. Just… just think about it, okay?"

The memories rushed by faster than before.

It wasn't too long after her talk with Draco that her belly was swollen with another baby. Draco's ear was pressed against her bump and he was very seriously telling the baby inside that he expected it to look more like him than a Weasley, because it wasn't fair that he'd been outnumbered for so long in his own house, was it? In the blink of an eye, she was smiling at Blaise as he carried Orion in his arms, pointing out the different Quidditch balls in Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Quaf," Orion said when Blaise pointed at the red ball.

"Quaffle, yes," Blaise replied, grinning.

"Bwudge."

"Bludger, right again, you are."

"Switch!"

"Merlin, Ginny, I think you've got a genius on your hands. Must get it from me!"

Draco was rubbing her swollen feet, Orion was pointing to her belly and proudly proclaiming 'baby!', Molly and Arthur showed up for tea at the house with Narcissa and they were awkwardly formal but polite, Neville was sending letters groaning over having two Malfoy children at Hogwarts so close together, Luna was bringing the twins over to play with Orion, Hermione was spending time with Ginny in the library.

She managed to focus on a memory and immediately felt the weight of a baby in her arms—it was almost unfamiliar, since Orion had grown so much. Light blond strands covered the baby's head. When he finished yawning, his eyes opened, showing swirling, dark gray orbs. Ginny smiled sleepily down at him.

"You're tired too, huh, Rigel?" she whispered.

The baby wrapped his tiny hand around her finger as she spoke. Draco was asleep beside her, his head resting awkwardly on her shoulder. In the other room, she could hear Orion giggling as Yolly the house-elf entertained him.

Where Orion had been loud and upset as a newborn, Rigel was quiet and curious. It took exactly three months, two days, and four hours for Ginny to nickname Rigel. Gray, Gray, Gray. Blaise was much more at ease with Gray than he had been with Orion. Orion took great joy in showing Witherwings the new baby, often dragging the large, patient cat over to the bassinet so he could see Gray.

Then, in a breath, Draco was putting the children down to sleep with the help of her mum, and Ginny was wandering towards Blaise and Luna in the backyard, barefoot. The feel of the soft grass against her skin reminded her of her childhood. She was almost to the pair when she heard them talking and hesitated. Their words drifted over to her.

"I've missed you, Lovegood."

Blaise stared up at the sky as Luna studied him.

"Why? I'm right here."

She reached over and laid her hand on his upper arm, squeezing it. Feeling rather like she was intruding on a private moment, Ginny began walking backwards as quietly as possible.

"I… I sometimes think if we would've met at Hogwarts, properly, my whole life would've been different—"

Ron swung Rose around as Hugo chased after him. Orion tried to keep up but kept getting distracted—Ron and Hermione's house was much different than Draco and Ginny's. There was an obscene amount of Muggle objects in the house, Draco often pointed out. Ginny took a sip of her tea, fighting back a smile when she saw Draco rocking Gray to sleep in his arms as he went over some potential security issues with Hermione.

Dinner at the Burrow, falling asleep with Gray's tiny hands curled in her hair, Orion laughing gleefully whenever he'd spot Draco home from work—

Her hands were deep in the soapy sink water. The water was too hot, but, at the moment, she didn't care. Yolly was with Orion and Gray upstairs and Draco would be home soon. Merlin, Draco would be home soon. Normally, the idea of seeing her husband was one that filled her with happiness. His hours at work were lengthening and she could see the strain on his face as he tried to balance everything. More than once, as they fell asleep, Draco had admitted to her that he was worried he wouldn't be able to handle it all: the children, work, Ministry events, successfully transforming Azkaban, her.

And this… well, this was certainly going to shake things up a bit.

From the other room, Ginny heard the whoosh of the Floo. Draco only ever Flooed home if he was tired; he hated the soot that clung to his cloak and didn't like asking Yolly to clean it for him every day.

Ginny's grip tightened on the plate. She waited only a moment before she heard Draco's footsteps outside the kitchen door. Then, he pushed it open and entered the room. Ginny went back to cleaning, tossing him a smile over her shoulder.

"Hey."

"Hello," he replied, rewarding her with a tired grin. "Children upstairs?"

She nodded and turned her attention back to the dirty dishes. Not that she was getting much work done, but, still, it made it easier to collect her thoughts.

As he moved around the kitchen, Ginny let the familiar sound of him calm her.

"You're… doing the dishes."

"You're quite observant."

"Why are you doing the dishes?"

Draco came up beside her, his arm brushing hers. She looked up at him and his gaze was curious, sharp, despite the obvious fatigue that made the skin under his eyes dark.

"I know you've never cleaned anything before in your life, ever, but most of the time when something is dirty—"

"While I might've never cleaned anything, I did have plenty of house-elves growing up," he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "And, conveniently, we have a house-elf also. So why are you doing the dishes?"

Ginny breathed in through her nose as his eyes lingered on her face.

"I'm pregnant."

He froze as though she had hit him with a hex. Biting on her lip, Ginny lifted her hands from the water and wiped them on her pants. The warm water seeped through the fabric.

She understood the panic that was beginning to highlight his face, really, she did. It seemed like just yesterday that Gray had been born, though it had been months now. And Orion, Merlin, he was a handful. Another baby? They were going to have another baby? They hadn't planned on it; both were ready to be done after Gray. Yet here they were.

"Gin…" He stepped back from her, his eyebrows furrowed, as though trying to make sure she was serious.

"I'm not joking."

"You can't be pregnant."

"Well, apparently I can be, because I am," she said, shrugging helplessly.

"We can't have another baby. You can't be pregnant. Gray is—he's barely six months old."

When Ginny had told Draco she was pregnant with Orion, his eyes had brightened and his lips had broken into a beautiful smile that promised great things. When Ginny had told Draco she was pregnant with Gray, he had kissed the palm of her hand before tugging her close and mumbling about their growing family. This… this was not same, not at all.

"It's not like I did this on purpose. I only just found out; I had gone in for a checkup with Gray—"

"We can't handle another baby, Gin! I—I can't do another kid, I can barely keep up—"

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Draco—"

"We can't do this. How are we supposed to—"

"I understand, I do, but I need you—"

"— do we need a nanny? We said we'd never get a nanny!"

"We won't, we'll figure it out, I swear—"

"How are we going to afford this? You'll be missing another season! How—how—fuck—"

"Can you just breathe for a fucking second, Draco, you're freaking me out—"

Draco had never left Ginny in a state of dread before, but, when he stalked out of the kitchen, as if the sight of her was too much, she found it hard to breathe.

Winter and spring passed in the blink of an eye as Ginny's belly grew once more.

And Orion was talking. When did that happen? He seemed to be constantly dragging his toy broom around, the model of which Draco and Ginny had fought over for weeks—Draco wanted the most expensive toy broom on the market while Ginny continually reminded him Orion was a toddler, and they weren't spending that much on a bloody broom, not till he was at least six or seven and understood the difference—and he was babbling about everything, all the time.

She remembered mornings where she laid in bed with Draco and the boys, their eyes wide with wonder when the baby kicked. Draco's touch warmed her when he pressed his palm against her belly; the boys mimicked their father, though they looked far from confident when they felt the baby move. Ginny recalled the way her chest hurt as she watched the Harpies' practice from the stands—Orion wanted to come with her every time, far too obsessed with Quidditch. The feel of his tiny hand in hers as he pointed out the different players and their positions made the pain of not being able to play another season somewhat more bearable.

The smell of wet grass filled her senses, and a memory came of her sitting in Luna's backyard, with the sun setting over the hills. Gray was asleep against Blaise's chest and Orion was playing in the mud with Lysander and Lorcan. Draco didn't notice how dirty his oldest was getting, too distracted by the ridiculous story Luna was telling about the leprechauns they had run into in Ireland. When Luna raised her hands above her head, eyes wide in the midst of storytelling, Draco snorted and Blaise laughed loudly, stirring Gray from his sleep.

Celebrations flew by— birthdays and holidays and work promotions.

There were lunches at Hermione's with the children and tea at Malfoy Manor with Narcissa and the high society women that Narcissa wanted Ginny to associate with: Parkinson and the Greengrass sisters, Bulstrode and Davis. They were all women from Draco's past that were a completely different breed of person than Ginny. Somehow, Parkinson ended up being the only one Ginny could relate to; she rolled her eyes when Astoria Greengrass shared the latest gossip, added salt to Bulstrode's tea when no one but Ginny was watching, and liked to interject the boring conversations with embarrassing stories from Hogwarts about the women present—Ginny included.

It was on a Monday morning that Lyra was born, with wild red locks and a piercing scream. Draco, who had been initially upset at the idea of another child, refused to put the baby down, as if in apology for ever feeling anything but joy over Lyra's existence.

It was on a Thursday evening that Draco came home, face flushed and eyes bright, and announced that the Ministry was moving forward with construction on Azkaban—within months, they'd be forcing the Dementors out and relocating the prisoners to other penitentiaries in nearby countries so they could work on Azkaban without any worries. Orion zoomed over to Draco on his broom, laughing at his father's excitement, Lyra was asleep in her swing, and Gray pointed to a picture in his book, bothered that Ginny's reading to him was disrupted. But Ginny met Draco's gaze and they both seemed to sag in relief. This had been years in the making.

It was on a Saturday morning, when her mum and dad had taken the boys for the day, that Draco and Ginny sat at the kitchen table and felt somewhat normal again. Lyra was asleep—that girl certainly loved her naps, a blessing, truly—and Draco had made some coffee. She cupped the warm mug in her hands, enjoying the peace they so rarely received. Draco's eyes were on her, kind and lovely, and she smiled at him.

"It's weird, isn't it?" she asked. "This is what we used to do every day, only a few years ago."

He made a sound of agreement.

"It's weird not having the boys here," Draco admitted before taking a long sip of his coffee. Then he spoke again. "I saw that Maggie had written to you."

"Yeah."

"Have you given it any thought?"

Ginny cocked her head.

"Given what any thought?"

"Playing with the Harpies for another season," Draco supplied, eyebrows lifting. "They'll begin recruiting soon enough."

Actually, it was one of the few things that constantly lingered in Ginny's thoughts these days. It had been two seasons since she played for the Harpies, and, while Maggie assured her she'd be able to win back her spot as Chaser, she wasn't sure if going back was the best idea. The children were still so young; what would she miss by being away so much? Lyra's first word? Gray beginning to read? Orion doing an actual trick on the broom?

She fidgeted and Draco took notice, putting his mug down and leaning forward slightly.

"I'm not sure how I'd manage to be away from home for so long now," she finally said, frowning.

Draco's lips mirrored hers, turning down sharply.

"I'd be able to bring the children to you during your free time when you're traveling, like I did with Orion."

"All three of them? When you're already working into the weekend?" She paused. "Azkaban is finally getting actual work done… I can't see how we'd manage with both of us working full-time."

The words settled over them. Draco stared down at the table, his eyes moving as he thought over what to say. When he looked back up at her, he sighed.

"I don't want a nanny to raise our children. Not like I had."

She nodded in agreement.

"I could try to step back from the project," he offered slowly. "See if Potter's willing to take up more of the work. I could try not to take any more trips or… ask my mother for help—"

"Or I could take another year off from Quidditch. Maybe be done with it."

His eyes met hers in surprise, his mouth parting slightly, ready to shoot down the suggestion.

"It's a rather dangerous sport, isn't it?" Ginny said before he could speak, a cheeky grin playing across her face. "I don't know what you'd do with all three kids if something happened to me."

Something twisted in the gray of Draco's eyes that warned that he was worried over about what she suggested, but—

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Ginny jolted awake when there was an unexpected pressure against her forehead. She struggled to focus, her eyes adjusting to the bright lights in the… in the bathroom. Groaning, she shifted against the toilet, but a gentle hand kept her from standing.

Looking up, she stared in surprise.

"Harry?"

He smiled his familiar, crooked smile. She struggled again to get off the ground; his hand that rested on her shoulder gave her a squeeze but kept her in place once more.

"Feeling alright, Gin?"

Behind his glasses, his eyes intently took her in. She could only imagine how she looked, crumpled by the toilet. But… but he wasn't who she had been expecting to wake her up. Looking over his shoulder, she saw Pansy lingering uneasily in the doorway. Ginny looked back to Harry, trying to comprehend what was going on.

"What are you doing here?"

Harry shrugged.

"Pansy wrote me. I saw the owl when I was leaving Dudley's."

"I'm sure he loved that," Ginny mumbled, wiping a hand over her face.

His smile widened.

"He didn't notice it. But Pansy was worried about you. Asked me to stop by."

Something loosened in her chest and she stared up at Harry.

"Pansy didn't write Draco?"

"Not sure. She ushered me up here right away. She wasn't sure how to handle you."

Pansy made a sound behind him and they both turned their attention to her. She was gnawing on her bottom lip.

"If you die on me, Malfoy, your husband is going to kill me," Pansy informed her sharply. "Is she okay, Harry?"

Ginny's eyebrows rose in surprise when Harry looked back at her.

"Expert on head injuries, are you?" Ginny asked.

"More like headaches," Harry laughed. "I've had one or two bad ones back in my day."

She wanted to roll her eyes, but her head pulsed and a weak sigh escaped her instead. Harry pressed his hand to her head once more, a welcome pressure, and she let her eyes flutter shut. For a moment, the sounds in the bathroom—Harry's soft breathing, the anxious tapping of Pansy's foot, the echo of her heartbeat in her ears—faded away. The urge to drift back to sleep came over her, and sleep almost claimed her, with Harry's comforting touch weighing her down and the cool porcelain pressed against her skin. But then Harry's voice penetrated the silence and she opened her eyes again.

"Ginny? Hey, hey, you didn't even let me do my proper, professional checkup on you," he said as she focused on him again.

"Oh, shut up, Harry."

They shared a small smile. Then he sighed.

"You've been feeling nauseous?"

Ginny nodded.

"Sharp pains in the head? Like a migraine?" Harry asked, as if checking off a list.

"I was at St. Mungo's earlier this morning with Draco. The Healer told me I needed to get through this. I'm not going to die."

"Parkinson's a bit worried you will."

"More worried about Draco's reaction, I think," Ginny mumbled. "Are you worried over me?"

Harry rocked back on his heels, dropping his arms to his sides. The loss of his touch made her feel like she was floating in water; a wave of tiredness swept over her.

"No. Like I said, I've had plenty of headaches before. I get it." Harry paused. "I'm going to wait in here with you though, okay?"

"Yeah. Just stop poking me in my sleep."

Her eyes shut as she spoke but she saw concern shining on Harry's face and understood that he wasn't as comfortable with the situation as he made it seem. Not for the first time, she thought of how different it would've been if she had just made it work with Harry. If she hadn't let the breakup happen. If she had woken up with ten years of her memory missing, but she was married to Harry, had children with Harry, instead—

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"I'm going to be the oldest broad on the team," Maggie had cried when Ginny announced her official retirement from the Harpies.

It twisted Ginny's heart to step away from Quidditch, a pain inside of her that went far deeper than she would've imagined, but she was home with the children now. Three children who tired her out as much as any Quidditch game. Orion was full of energy, constantly running around the room, yapping to her about Quidditch and his daddy being at work and how much he loves playing and can they go to the park? Gray followed in his brother's footsteps as fast as he could, tumbling and screeching in joy, though his attention was almost always taken by a book that was left out. Lyra was eating food after nursing and cooing and babbling nonsense; she napped often but, when awake, would watch her brothers with wide eyes.

Whenever Draco came home from work, whether by dinnertime or a little earlier or much later, it was a welcome relief. He was always tired but a smile would tug at his lips as she sagged into his embrace. His familiar scent of mint would tickle her nose, and the comforting pressure of his hand against her back would help her relax, and, Merlin, she missed him. The children would then capture his attention, tugging at his pants—or, in Lyra's case, slowly crawling towards him from her spot.

On the weekends, Draco and Ginny would lay in bed together for as long as possible, until they heard one of the children beginning to stir. Draco always said how happy he was that all the children inherited the Weasley ability to sleep through the night.

One memory begged to be looked at, and, with as much energy as possible, Ginny focused on it.

"—Mother wants us over for dinner tomorrow. I had said yes but I wasn't sure?" Draco trailed off, waiting to see whether she was pleased or not.

Ginny shrugged, lifting her knees to her chest so she could wrap her arms around them. Amusement made Draco's lips twitch and she knew what he was thinking—you look like a child—but she spoke before he could point it out.

"That's fine. I'm desperate to get out of this house."

He made a sound of sympathy, though she knew he'd rather be home than at work. His long hours at Azkaban were beginning to wear on him. Pulling out a silver case from his back pocket, Draco grabbed a cigarette and snapped the case shut, returning it to its former home. Then he lit the cigarette, leaning his back against the house. Ginny watched from her spot on the bench as he inhaled deeply.

Without any thought at all, he handed her the cigarette.

"It's nice having you home," she told him, watching the smoke drift from his parted lips. Sometimes the pain she felt from not seeing Draco as much as she wished was overwhelming. "I'm losing my mind talking to just the kids all day."

She put the cigarette to her lips and inhaled. Draco's eyes flitted to her own, his eyebrows twitching.

"Better than spending hours upon hours forcing the Dementors from one place to another."

The smoke burned her lugs and she breathed out. It lingered between them but didn't dull the tiredness Ginny saw in Draco's gaze.

Getting the Dementors to leave Azkaban was not as easy as the Ministry had hoped. It had been a month already and, even with the help of Aurors, was taking far longer than projected to clear the Dementors from their dark, dreadful home. Ginny handed him back the cigarette.

"What do you think of when you're conjuring a Patronus?"

Draco stilled, the cigarette dangling from his lips. He stared at her, incredulous.

"You're serious, Weasley?"

She shrugged, grinning slightly. But then he dropped the cigarette without regard and came over to her on the bench. Lowering her legs in surprise, Ginny let Draco envelope her, his long body covering hers completely. He wrapped a hand in her hair, tilting her head slightly so that their eyes remained connected.

"I think of you. The only happy memories I've ever had are with you and the life you've helped me build."

Her heart raced at the sincerity in his tone.

"And that time your idiot brother puked slugs after trying to curse me," Draco added, smirking.

Ginny laughed, reaching up to shove him lightly.

"You prat," she tried to say but Draco leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that tasted like cigarettes—

Draco's hours at work lengthened. When he'd come home, he seemed to be half-dead, barely processing what anyone said to him before apologizing and stumbling to bed. Once the Dementors were gone everything would be better, she knew. He'd have more energy and more time at home. But the disappointment and confusion in Orion's eyes every time Draco waved off dinner and went to bed was enough to break her heart. And, to be honest, she missed talking to her husband.

When the house became too much like a prison, Ginny and the children would leave. They'd go to the Burrow or Hermione and Ron's or Luna's. When Draco had left for a week for work—was it France he was going to? Or Italy? Ginny could hardly keep track, not when Orion had a temper tantrum and made all the books in the library explode off their shelves, not when Gray went missing in the house and was found thirty minutes later under Ginny's bed, not when Lyra was crying to be picked up—Ginny found herself desperate. Luna happily invited Ginny over for a sleepover with the children that was supposed to be for one night and lasted three days. On one of the nights, Luna told Ginny that her father was very ill and she wouldn't be traveling anymore.

Ginny would talk to Draco late at night, his face glinting green through the Floo. Though the conversations were short, the small smile on his face as they looked over each other made it okay. When Lyra said her first word, however, and Ginny hadn't thought to tell Draco right away, she realized something was wrong.

It took three months for the Ministry to properly test the new security system at Azkaban and approve it. Draco took a lengthy vacation once everything was settled; he slept for three days, only stirring at night to eat or use the bathroom. And then he was back, waking in the morning before Ginny to make their coffee and staying up late after the children were in bed to kiss her till she couldn't breathe.

Orion started little league Quidditch. Gray became utterly fascinated with Charlie when he visited home and presented the toddler with a toy dragon. Lyra found joy in finger painting.

During one of the weekly lunches with her family, in which Draco volunteered to watch the children by himself, a new desire washed over her.

"George needs more help at the joke shop. Expanding to Hogsmeade might've been a better decision before we had kids," Angelina said, grinning.

"Ron's not helping enough?" Molly asked. "He seemed so happy to be working there."

"Oh! Oh, no, Ron's helping plenty. I think George just wants it to go so smoothly that he's sort of not willing to let go of the reins yet."

"Maybe they need another Weasley over there," Hermione suggested, turning to look pointedly at Ginny.

Ginny stared back in surprise before laughing.

"I'm not working at the joke shop!"

"Well, why not?" Hermione asked. "You have more free time now, don't you?"

"That'd be brilliant!" Angelina cried out excitedly. "George would be—"

"I don't think that's for me," Ginny hurriedly cut in, when she saw Molly's eyes light up with glee. "I'd have to be there the same hours Draco's gone from home."

"Do you miss working much?" Angelina inquired curiously, leaning forward slightly.

Opening her mouth, Ginny went to say that no, of course she didn't miss work, she loved being with the children. But the words curled in her mouth, unwilling to leave her tongue. Chewing on her lip, Ginny gave it a long moment before replying.

"I do. I sort of feel bad saying it, but I do miss working. I enjoyed having something to do other than staying home all day. I don't know how you did it, Mum. Sometimes I feel like I'm going mad."

Her mum laughed, almost delighted to hear it.

"I simply needed something to focus on for myself. I loved gardening, and, though the garden never looked exactly like I wanted, it was mine. You need a project, dear, something for you."

Two months later, when there was an opening at the Daily Prophet for a Quidditch reporter, she applied. When the interview went well, she discussed with Draco the idea of her picking up a job that she could primarily work at from home. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty, when he told her he thought it was an excellent idea.

Memories rushed by.

Christmas, Charlie staying at her house for a few days, the new year, a snow storm that raged so loudly outside the house that the children slept in bed with Ginny and Draco, the Ministry's pride over Azkaban being marked as having one of the best rehabilitation programs in the world, Ginny attending practices to interview Quidditch players, running into Asma Rahman who now worked as a receptionist at Azkaban—

"I know who it is."

"No, you don't," Draco drawled, though he eyed Blaise with interest.

Blaise's smirk sharpened and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Just tell us!"

"Weasley, no need to yell."

"Don't tease us, then," she retorted, making Blaise laugh.

"Well, if you must know, Potter's bringing Pansy to the Burrow for his birthday."

The group was silent; Ginny's jaw had dropped open in surprise. Harry and… and Parkinson? That couldn't be. It didn't make sense.

"Oh, yes, Harry told me that he saw Pansy often at Shell Cottage," Luna informed them, interrupting the silence. Blaise pointed at Luna, as if to say, "See!" "They've been on great terms for years now."

"Shell Cottage? That can't be right—"

"Our Pansy?" Draco croaked. "Our Pansy is dating Potter?"

"Dating for quite a while now," Blaise added.

"And she told you before me?" Draco snapped.

Luna giggled. Ginny shared a long look with Draco before shrugging. After all, what did it matter if Harry and Pansy were dating?

It was a rainy day when Draco approached Ginny, caution swirling in his eyes.

"I think it's time the children met their grandfather. My father."

"Are you mad?" she breathed, heart racing immediately. "Meet your father? You can't—we can't—"

"He's family. Don't be unreasonable. They deserve to get to know him—"

"You're the one being unreasonable! He tried to kill me, Draco! And take the kids to Azkaban, I would never—"

Something close to hurt colored his face.

"Do you not trust Azkaban to be safe enough? Fuck, Gin, I've only been working on it for years now—"

He took them to Azkaban with Narcissa when Ginny relented. She stayed holed up in her bedroom, memories of her first year plaguing her till her family arrived home. Relief filled her when she saw that Draco looked as drained as she felt when he came to her; he tiredly sat on the floor beside her, the warm air from the open window calming them both as they sat in silence.

It was on Lyra's second birthday that Draco came to Ginny with news: he'd been offered another job, in Spain. They wanted him to help rebuild a prison there, to make it more like Azkaban. Dread had bubbled in Ginny's stomach as he spoke to her but she couldn't ignore the excitement in his voice, the way his hands moved as he spoke.

"I plan on assembling the team I used to rebuild Azkaban, but to make something more official of it. Azkaban was such a success that if I manage to work on Nurmengard—Gin, it's the second biggest prison in Europe—then I could have an actual career; something more than simply overseeing Azkaban. I could be doing more. More for us, more for the family."

Even though she wanted to say no, even though she wanted to beg him to simply stay as a security advisor to Azkaban, she knew she couldn't. It hadn't been that bad, those months when he had been working on Azkaban nonstop, had it? And the children were older now. She was working, mostly from home, and that would help keep her sanity. Right?

One moment she was with Draco at their kitchen table, hesitantly agreeing to his new project, and the next… the next moment everything was rushing by.

Draco was gone often. Ginny was working to meet her deadlines, while also making sure the kids didn't set anything aflame when their tempers got the best of them. Honestly, how did her mum do it? But if Molly Weasley could do it, then Ginny could, too. She refused to be less than her mum.

Little league practices, dinners at the Burrow with her brothers and parents, staying up late in her study to finish her articles, talking to Draco through the Floo so he could say goodnight to the children, laying in the backyard with Luna as the children played nearby, trying to remind herself to breathe, breathe, breathe as she balanced everything…

The air was cooler now than it had been all season. Autumn was officially here, she supposed. Turning her head, she saw that Luna's attention was completely on the sky. She looked troubled.

"Luna?"

"Yes?"

"Everything okay?"

Luna looked at Ginny, her expression blank.

"I wonder, sometimes, at how different my life would've been if I had waited for another type of love."

Ginny stared in surprise. Only a moment ago, they had been discussing writing Neville about ways to care for a garden come winter. Blinking, Ginny tried to think what to say. Then, rather unsure, she said the first thing that came to mind.

"Do you not love Rolf anymore?"

It felt weird to ask the question, but, once she did, some things began to fall into place. Luna hadn't been going on excursions with Rolf, instead wanting to keep the twins close by her ailing father. But what if it were more than that?

"He is one of my greatest friends. I love him." Luna paused. "Do you love Draco?"

"Yes," she answered, without having to think on it.

"Is he one of your best friends?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And he's your soulmate? You love him more than just a friend?"

"Yeah… Luna, do you not… do you not care for Rolf romantically?"

Luna didn't seem bothered by the question, instead tilting her head as she thought.

"Sometimes I think I was confused when I married Rolf. I love him. Sometimes I'm not sure our relationship will ever compare to yours and Draco's."

"Luna," Ginny breathed, her heart twisting.

After all, how many times had Ginny cursed Draco recently over leaving her alone with the children so often? How many times had she fought tears as the children screamed and cried and she had to take a long minute in the kitchen to catch her breath, hating herself for letting Draco take the promotion? She suddenly felt incredibly selfish.

"Luna, no relationship is perfect. Don't… don't use mine and Draco's relationship as an example of—of greatness. We fight, we struggle, we—"

"But you're a team. You're soulmates. I'm not sure if me and Rolf are a team anymore, if we ever were."

Ginny reached out and grabbed Luna's hand.

"Every relationship has ups and downs. Give it some time. Keep working on it."

Luna smiled, but it seemed incredibly sad.

The conversation with Luna bothered Ginny for weeks. Luna, on the other hand, hardly seemed upset at all; anytime Ginny saw her afterwards, the witch was her normal, bubbly self. But when a month passed and Ginny only saw Draco for a few days at a time—their conversations mostly about his work and briefly about the children and what they had been up to—she decided something needed to change.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy with their situation, per se, because she was happy to be focused on something other than just the children and he was happy to be working on another project but… Luna's words of hesitation about her own relationship, Luna's confidence in Draco and Ginny, made a strange surge of doubt wash over Ginny.

"I need to send out these letters," Draco muttered to himself. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the government in Spain is harsher with their regulations when it comes to—"

Ginny listened, her knees bouncing from nerves. When Draco went to stand, his mind already drifting to what work he needed to accomplish before bed, Ginny reached out and grabbed his wrist. He stilled at the contact, focusing on her completely for the first time that night. The tension left her when she realized she had his full attention, and she gave him a weak smile.

"There you are," she teased.

Draco blinked.

"Sorry. I was rambling, wasn't I?" he asked, settling back in his seat. "Did you say something?"

"Oh, no, I just… I feel like we haven't talked. You know, just us, without the kids around."

He stared at her, his eyes darting over her face.

"Indeed," Draco replied slowly. "What's wrong?"

She hated that he could read her so easily. Sighing, Ginny released her hold on him and leaned back. The words tumbled out of her mouth with little regard.

"I've been thinking recently; I had been talking with Luna and she just—she said something that really stuck with me, and, I don't know… I hardly see you anymore. We don't talk anymore, at all, about anything other than your job and the children. And I miss having you around. It's different without you home."

His face became blank as she spoke and her stomach clenched.

"I mean, Draco, I'm so proud of everything you're doing for us. That you've done. But I think that it wouldn't be—would it be such a bad idea if you, I don't know, had someone come on board with you that could help you manage the load? So you could be home more. I feel like…"

She trailed off when he had no reaction to her words. Suddenly, she felt rather foolish. There was something in his expression that made her think he wished he had rushed away to send out those letters a bit faster, before she could grab him.

Ginny cleared her throat and went to speak again, knowing she was talking to fill the awkward silence, but he beat her to it.

"What did Lovegood say?"

Despite the fact that he aimed for curiosity when he asked the question, there was a sense of hostility in his voice that made Ginny's back straighten. She frowned, wondering if she mistook the anger in his tone. But, no, she could see in the tightness of his lips that he was displeased.

"She was talking about her and Rolf, and me and you, and—"

"Why is she discussing our relationship?"

His fingers were drumming against the table top slowly as he waited for her answer. Ginny lifted her eyebrows. Why was he making this a fight?

"She's not," Ginny replied, trying to keep the heat from her voice. This wasn't a fight. She wouldn't let it be. "It was just something that she mentioned that made me want to talk to you. I shouldn't have even said her name—"

"But you did."

"Can you let me finish talking?" she growled, hands curling into fists. "All I want to talk about is maybe you spending more time at home."

"You told me you were okay with this," he reminded her. "You knew what it would be like."

"Yeah, and I forgot how bloody hard it is being here by myself all the time."

"I'm home much more than I had been when I worked on Azkaban."

"And all you do is talk about work! Or you're in your study talking to all your—your people. Sometimes it's like you're not even here, Draco!" Ginny cried out.

She swallowed thickly when she realized her words. But, Merlin, it was true. He was like a ghost sometimes, floating from one room to the other, halfheartedly spending time with the children when it was obvious his head was in a different place.

"I miss us having actual conversations, I miss talking to you."

"You miss conversations like this?" Draco sneered, standing stiffly from the table. "While this has been so much fun, I have actual work to do, darling. I hope you understand."

His eyebrows rose and she heard the words he wanted to say but didn't: work that actually matters, a job that means something, without me my job would fall apart but without you there would be no difference at the Daily Prophet—

Ginny flinched and then hated herself for it. His eyes lingered on her as her face flushed, but she pushed away from the table and stormed from the room before he could say anything else.

Eventually, he apologized and agreed. He should be home more, it wasn't fair to her, he got too wrapped up in the new project. He'd find a solution to this issue, something to relieve some of the pressure from him, and as soon as he did he'd let her know.

Sometimes, she felt like it was all back to normal. He'd come home from work, or a trip, and would wrap her in his arms as soon as he spotted her. Any fight she had in her would flee, and she'd bury her face in his robes that smelled of him and forget for a minute how absolutely horrible it had been while he was gone. Ginny liked to think he'd forget about their issues too, that he'd actually let himself detach from work during his time home.

During those days of freedom, he'd sit in the library with the children, listening to each of their conversations dutifully, even though they likely made no sense to him. At night, he'd hold Ginny close when she curled up against him, and they'd stare up at the sky, sharing the rare cigarette they allowed themselves. When Gray said he wanted a cat like Witherwings, Draco made sure to return from his trip with a kitten bundled in his cloak. Ginny had tried to be angry—because, honestly, she didn't think she had the patience to care for another living thing—but the way Gray's eyes brightened stopped her.

Sometimes she'd catch Draco in his study with Lyra in his lap. He'd be focused on looking over the parchment in front of her, but he'd always respond to Lyra when she reached for him. And, sometimes, he'd ask Yolly to watch the younger two so that Orion could be taught some maneuvers on his broom by his parents. It would seem like all was right and that the time he spent away meant nothing.

"I bought this for you," Draco informed her as they lay in bed together.

Ginny turned the box over in her hands, ignoring the tingles his fingers provoked as they danced over her thigh. Her eyes darted from the box to him, but he wasn't looking at her. His gaze was trailing over her body. Warmth pooled in her stomach as she noticed how dark the gray of his eyes was. She cleared her throat pointedly and he looked up at her, the corner of his lips curling.

"More perfume? This has to be the sixth box you've given me in the last year."

"Yes, well, I was hoping you'd get the hint by now—"

He broke out in laughter when she launched herself at him, a wicked grin coloring her face. Eventually, the perfume, which she'd later discover smelled lovely, was abandoned as they hastily undressed.

But the bad days always seemed to come back.

Draco would still be gone. Ginny still found herself increasingly overwhelmed. There were times it was impossible to get ahold of Draco when he was on a trip. She'd try to reach him through Floo, her face in the warm fire, and he wouldn't be in his office or room. If she wrote him a letter, she'd certainly hear from him, but the owls took days to get to and from Spain.

Ginny worried when the loss of his company didn't seem to affect her as much as it used to. Before, she'd wait anxiously to hear his voice at night. It seemed to be the only thing that got her through the day. Now, though… well, now the children seemed intent on keeping her distracted throughout the day and she'd collapse in her room late at night, absolutely drained, before a thought of her husband would drift through her head.

Had he had a good day? What was he doing? Had he thought of her? When would he be home?

There were times he came home and work obligations followed him. There were so many Ministry events that Draco was required to attend, with Ginny at his side, that she soon grew sick of the gatherings. She supposed the only thing that helped was Blaise and Pansy's presence.

One event stuck out in her mind: Ginny thanked Merlin that she hadn't worn heels with how much she had to follow Draco around the room and stand and listen to him talk to people she hardly cared about. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as Draco listened intently to two of his coworkers. Her eyes scanned the area. Blaise was around here somewhere, she knew. Ginny doubted Draco would care too much if she abandoned him early tonight and went to sit with Blaise.

Ugh, she wanted more wine.

"Ginny? Gin?"

She looked back to Draco, flashing an apologetic smile when she realized that he was trying to introduce her to someone. One of his eyebrows rose high, but he didn't comment on her inattentiveness. Looking away from him, Ginny's breath caught when she met the gaze of the other person.

"You remember Cho Chang, don't you?"

How could she forget Cho Chang? The familiar bad taste that came whenever Ginny spotted Chang filled her mouth, and her smile became forced. It wasn't fair, she knew, that she still disliked Chang because of her relationship with Harry back in Hogwarts. After all, it had been years since she had seen Chang and there was no reason for her to still hold ill will towards the other woman. Taking a deep breath, the strain in her smile lessened.

"Of course," Ginny replied, holding out her hand. "You look… wonderful."

And she did. Chang's dress clung to her figure, and her hair was pulled back and styled prettily, showcasing her lovely face.

"Thank you," Chang answered, smiling. "You do too! Isn't it mad how long it's been since we've last seen each other?"

Draco shifted beside her, and Ginny's eyes darted to him, and then back to the woman in front of them, who was still talking excitedly. Why was Chang even here? Ginny had been coming to these events for ages now and had never seen Chang before. Had she gotten a job at the Ministry?

"—very eager to be working so closely with your husband. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of each—"

"What do you mean?" Ginny interrupted. "You're on his team now?"

Draco hadn't mentioned that to Ginny. She felt Draco stiffen beside her, ever so slightly, and something cold poked at her, making her heart race.

"Yes! Well, I suppose it's not official yet, is it, Draco?"

Chang looked at Draco expectantly, and Ginny turned her attention to him also.

"It's… yes, it's official. Kingsley will be announcing it tonight, I'm sure."

"What are you doing for his team?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, well." Something like confusion spread across Chang's face as she looked between Draco and Ginny. "I'm to run the team with Draco, to take on the Nurmengard project with him."

And why wouldn't Chang be confused as to why Ginny wouldn't know this already? Because what husband wouldn't tell his wife such a huge development? A rushing sound filled her ears. Draco was saying something, and then Chang was leaving. Ginny wasn't sure she had even said goodbye to the witch before Draco was steering her away.

She focused when Draco gave her a glass of wine.

"Chang? She's going to be your partner?" The words felt like they were choking her, and she took a deep breath. "You didn't even tell me you were looking for a partner."

Surprise flashed across Draco's face before disappearing. She wondered if she had imagined it.

"You said you wanted me to have more time at home."

Irrationally, anger washed over her.

"Were you ever going to tell me about this? Or do I have to find out all my information from her now?"

Swirling the scotch in his glass, Draco studied her.

"You said you didn't want me talking about work as much."

A wave of heat washed over Ginny.

"That's not what I meant!" she said loudly. "That'd be like if I decided to switch from the Harpies to another team without telling you!"

"Hardly comparable. It's not as if I quit my job and didn't mention it. And you don't play for the Harpies anymore."

The words were meant to be cutting, and they were. Ginny pressed her lips together and looked away, lest her mouth begin to tremble. Then she looked back at him, fighting to regain control of her breathing.

"You should've told me."

"What is it you want then, darling? For me to talk to you about work or for me to be more focused on you? Which is it? Which is it?" he hissed.

"Why can't it be both?" Ginny cried out.

"Draco, Ginny!"

They spun around to find Kingsley smiling at them. Ginny fought to clear the outrage from her face, as Draco had so easily done beside her, but after a moment she had to excuse herself to get away from him. The memory faded.

It was a complete betrayal to her normal confidence, this sudden doubt. But… but the image of Draco standing beside Chang, smirking at her in her beautiful dress robes that clung to her, seemed burned in her mind. She looked over herself in the mirror, at the stretch marks that streaked across her flesh, at the difference in her breasts from years of feeding the children—now that she really looked at herself, it seemed her whole body had changed.

Did Draco notice too? How could he not? He never said anything, never, but it didn't mean he didn't take note of it. And now he spent most of his time at work helping Chang get the hang of things—so that he could be home more. It would take some time to get her caught up on the project, Draco had warned Ginny, as if trying to prevent her from getting mad at him.

Now he was with Chang in Spain, doing who knows what…

"Stop it," Ginny ordered, turning away from the mirror.

It would do no good to let those thoughts into her head.

But…

"Just stop," she whispered.

Sometimes she wondered if she had forced some type of change onto her and Draco's relationship by asking him to stay home more. Ginny would watch the children play and wonder why Draco didn't rush home from his days at the Ministry, from his trips to Spain. All they seemed to do was fight when they were together now—

"I want to have an actual discussion about this."

"What, pray tell, would you call this, then?"

"A fight! We're fighting, Draco—"

"I'm not fighting. You're fighting."

"Yeah, I guess so. Because you don't seem to be doing much at all—"

—but he still seemed as busy as he did before he had Chang helping him. He'd come home and distractedly spend time with the children and ask her questions about her day, though he hardly listened. And then he'd disappear into his study. Most nights she'd be asleep for hours before he'd come to bed. Ginny knew he had insomnia when stressed, knew there had to be more to it than what was going on between them, but he wouldn't talk to her about it.

Just make him talk, make him tell you what's wrong, make him smile again…

Quickly became—

Don't let him hide away, don't let him be emotionless, make him fight, make him stay…

Because his study seemed to become his refuge when he wasn't hidden away at the Ministry and Ginny felt like she could scream sometimes. Where was her partner? How long did this last before one of them snapped?

It came up only once, at a place it never should have been mentioned. She had been angry and tired and drunk; bloody Zabini very much enjoyed making sure Ginny always had a full glass of wine in her hand at these Ministry balls, so that her guard fell and she'd make fun of their friends more willingly with him. And when she had spotted Draco across the room with Chang—Chang who had greeted Ginny so happily at the beginning of the night and who was now grabbing Draco's arm as she laughed—something seemed to snap. One moment, she was beside Zabini, who was mocking Percy about his dress robes, and the next, she was storming across the dance floor. She could hear Zabini racing to catch up with her, to stop her, but she was too fast—

"Are you fucking Chang then? Is that why you never want to—"

Draco looked as though she had slapped him, the flash of hurt coloring his face in a way that made him appear more vulnerable than he had in years. And, between them, the words hung. The music was loud, thankfully, so only Draco and Chang heard her hissed questions. There was a change in the air and something seemed to break between Ginny and Draco as he stared at her.

Blaise stumbled beside her, panting. He grabbed her hand and tugged at her, stopping her from finishing her sentence; something about the scene must have warned Zabini that all was not well.

"Let's—er, get back to the table, Gin—"

Her gaze was yanked away from Draco's as Blaise pulled at her.

At home that night, she waited by the window for her husband to return. Her head roared from her much-deserved hangover; Zabini refused to let her drink after she told him what she had said to Draco. He had forced her to leave the event early with him, though she hardly fought him on it. She heard the front door open and then close, heard Draco's soft footsteps as he found her, as if he knew she'd be waiting for him in the library.

His breath was warm on the back of her neck, and he grabbed lightly onto her arms, as if to hold her into place so she couldn't run away from him. Or, maybe, so he didn't have to look at her face. The idea of it made the fury inside her come to life again. Draco's words, low and furious, drifted to her.

"You think I'd want to fuck another woman who had been besotted by Potter?"

Why had she asked him? It wasn't worth the fight, she knew that, yet her mouth refused to stay shut. If he insisted on dragging her through hell, she was going to drag him down with her. Ginny tried to shake his hands off her arms as he continued hissing in her ear, ready to fight, ready to push him away, ready to scream.

He let go of her when she pulled out her wand and zapped him with a stinging jinx. Draco's eyes were burning, he was so furious she could feel it, and a trill of satisfaction raced through her. Now, it seemed, she had his full attention.

"Well, you didn't deny it, dear."

As much as she wanted to fight, though, she didn't get to. Draco stared at her like she was a complete stranger and left her be.

When he went on his next trip to Spain and spoke to her barely at all, only sending her an owl at the beginning of the trip to let her know when he'd be able to Floo the children, she knew she had to apologize. She had been drunk and wrong. Draco would never cheat on her. He loved her. They were just going through a rough time. Ginny would apologize and it would fix everything—

"You embarrassed us! You embarrassed me! Don't you think the Malfoy name has been dragged through the mud enough? You think I've been working this hard for me alone?"

"I know, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"

"She's a colleague of mine, and now she believes you think we're having an affair. Are you mad? Have you officially lost your mind?"

"It—it was a moment of… of weakness. I don't know what to say—"

"There's nothing to say. You asked me to find help so I could spend more time with you, and then you accuse me of cheating when I do! Is there a right way for me to go about this? What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing! Draco, nothing, I swear, I'm sorry!"

It felt like she no longer had a grasp on anything. Draco refused to spend any time with her alone whenever he was actually home. Her apologies fell on deaf ears. The children didn't seem to notice anything amiss; or, maybe, they simply thought this was how all parents acted. Ginny's heart ached at the thought.

Each day revolved around the children, then work, children, then work. If Draco was home, he'd often take the children over to his mother's, the invitation open to Ginny as well, though the message seemed rather clear when his eyes would finally meet her own that she was not wanted. It went on for months.

At night, as the spot in bed next to her remained empty, she thought of Draco's words—hasn't the Malfoy name been dragged through the mud enough? Out of desperation, a plan formed. A plan that was surely insane and took weeks to try to figure out, a plan which made her question everything about her relationship with Draco. How would she pull this off? She needed to do this, but how? Then she stumbled upon Asma Rahman in Diagon Alley, and everything clicked.

"You work at Azkaban. You can help me."

"You can't honestly think I'd be able to sneak you in?"

"Not sneak me in. Just keep the information from Draco. He'll never need to know."

She was going to see Lucius Malfoy; it was the only thing she thought would help Draco see that she was trying. If she could show Draco that she had gone out of her way to befriend his father, if she was able to start going to the visits with Draco and the children, if she had some sort of relationship with Lucius, maybe Draco would be able to forgive her. It was a ridiculous thought, but, honestly, she wasn't sure what else to do. And once she had run into Asma, it felt like the right thing to do.

Ginny planned everything so carefully—the children were at her parents', Draco was on a work trip—and it actually worked out. The cell was empty when she entered, until it wasn't, until a man who looked far too much like Draco stared at her with such burning curiosity that she almost took a step back.

"Daughter," Lucius Malfoy purred. "What a pleasant surprise."

She stared at him, sure she was going to spew the contents of her stomach.

"I believe it's safe to assume my son doesn't know you're here?"

Ginny had gotten sick as soon as she arrived home. She hated herself, she hated herself, how could she have done that? The visit was pointless and Lucius spoke in circles the whole thirty minutes until, of course, she was leaving and he informed her that it was a miracle with how little she did for the family that the Malfoy name had any weight at all. Lucius' words were meant to be harsh, but, instead, they made Ginny see him for the first time; perhaps he could be more than a means to heal her relationship with Draco.

Memories flew by. Orion woke up early every morning to spend time with Ginny alone, Gray had memorized all the dragon breeds in Europe, Lyra set far too many fires when her temper took over, Draco looked at her and she saw his father sometimes, a calculating look in his eyes that made her shiver. If he ever found out she had gone to Azkaban, even if it was for their own benefit, who knew how he'd react. And yet she went back again and again, desperate to find a solution in Lucius.

"Are you still upset about the diary?" Lucius asked, his smirk as sharp as his words.

Ginny shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'm more upset that you managed to survive the war."

It was easier to read Lucius' expressions since she knew Draco's so well. Something close to amusement flitted across his face.

"But we don't have time to talk about our feelings," Ginny said before he could say anything back.

His eyebrows rose.

"Ah, yes, you've come because you want me to tell you how to be a better wife to my son."

"I came so you can tell me how to be a better Malfoy," she corrected.

Lucius started slightly before inclining his head, as if appreciating that she was at least acknowledging how horrible a Malfoy she was. And, surprisingly, he seemed to enjoy telling her how to be a proper Malfoy.

Ginny took the advice he gave and put it into action.

"I'm going to throw a Christmas Eve party."

Draco didn't seem to hear what she said, staring out the window in his study. The doors had swung open to allow her entry, and she had tried not to hesitate. But he didn't look at her when she entered and now seemed content to ignore her completely.

Her heart raced, and she felt a bit sick, and, fuck, she just wanted to go back in time and stop herself from ever accusing him of cheating. She twisted her hands in front of her, unsure of what to say.

"Draco?"

"Why?" The single word was so softly spoken she barely heard it.

Why? Because she had to make amends somehow. Honestly, she hated planning any sort of get together, but… but Lucius had suggested, rather rudely, that perhaps she take up the proper mantle of wife and host something, to flaunt the Malfoy status, to put on a good front for the public if she was capable enough to handle such a responsibility.

"Because the Malfoys haven't hosted an event in far too long," she replied.

He looked at her, processing what she said.

"I'm going to do this right, Draco. I promise."

The weeks rushed by. The Christmas Eve party was grand and far too expensive, and Ginny was utterly exhausted by the end of it. She had never played pretend for so long in her life. It felt rather like when she was watching the children at home by herself; she rushed around so much to make sure everyone was happy that she thought her feet would fall off. But Ministry officials came. Her family came, and his mother came, and Chang made an appearance, though she clung desperately to her date. The children laughed as their cousins ran around with them, and Draco… Draco had seemed happy because of something she had done for the first time in such a long time.

And it seemed to fix something between them, though she wasn't sure what. They'd be out with their family and friends, at the Burrow for dinner or Malfoy Manor for tea or the park for a birthday celebration, and she'd reach for his hand and he'd allow her touch, his eyes flitting up to meet hers. He'd talk about work and she'd nod along as if she knew everything he spoke of already; someone would mention her latest article and he'd agree with her view—she'd wonder if he had even read it.

Sometimes the façade managed to hold once they got home. They'd put the children to bed and then find each other, sweet kisses that became desperate, soft touches that became rushed, gasping, hurried, passionate. Draco knew her body, knew where to touch her to make her cry out. They'd move together as if they had never been separated at all.

Sometimes the illusion would shatter as soon as the front door shut. Ginny would usher the children to their rooms, and Draco would go to his study. She'd be asleep before he'd come to bed—or, at least, she'd pretend to be. When had she become such a coward? It was as though that dreaded accusation had stolen her courage from her. She had done wrong, and she had to deal with the consequences of it—

"What's wrong?"

Ginny started, not realizing she had been zoned out. She looked over at Luna, whose head was cocked curiously.

"Nothing," Ginny answered easily, even as her chest seemed to tighten.

Lysander and Orion were playing on their broomsticks, chasing each other around the yard. Lorcan was napping beside Lyra. Gray was playing with his toy dragon out by the garden. Everything was peaceful. She wasn't stuck in her house for once. And… and she couldn't stop thinking about Draco.

"You don't look well," Luna noted.

"Having three children doesn't exactly afford me the luxury of doing my hair or makeup anymore," Ginny informed her dryly.

"I wasn't trying to be mean," she responded patiently. "And it's not that you look tired or awful. You don't look yourself. You don't look happy."

The words, softly spoken, hit her hard. Ginny stared at Luna and tried to take a deep breath, tried to deny it, but her face crumbled. She didn't tell Luna the full truth—because how could she tell anyone about how horrible she had made things with Draco and how she was visiting Lucius and how she felt like she had somehow lost herself and everything else—but she did let herself cry quietly, lest she attract the attention of the children.

Luna reached for her hand, a very serious expression on her face.

"We'll be a team, then."

Luna brought the boys over often after that. Blaise, who always made himself present if Ginny reached out to him or if Draco was home for the weekend, began coming over unannounced to spend time with them. Ginny had allowed this phenomenon to occur exactly eight times before she called him out on it.

"Blaise."

"Ginevra."

She glared at him and he smiled brightly in response. They were standing in the back garden, watching Luna and the children farther down below. Blaise pointed at the group before them.

"Isn't that your son eating dirt?"

Ginny grimaced; Orion had decided he wanted to see if dirt actually tasted good. Luna had waved off Ginny's attempt at assisting her help Orion cough it up. The rest of the children were in a half half-circle around them, looking rather like they weren't sure whether Orion had made a good or bad decision.

"Don't distract me," she said. "Blaise…"

"Oh, Merlin, spit it out," Blaise groaned, when she paused. "What is it?"

She faltered, unsure of how to word what she was thinking.

"Do you…fancy Luna?"

He levelled her with a startlingly blank look that would make Draco proud.

"It would be disrespectful to Luna's marriage if I answered that," he answered shortly.

Ginny's eyebrows rose of their own accord. Blaise, she knew, hardly cared about the sanctity of marriage.

"You've been coming around a lot since Luna's started coming by with the children—"

"Ginny, stop," Blaise ordered, though his voice was soft and almost pleading.

Then he walked away from her, towards Luna and the kids, leaving her feeling strange. Maybe she overstepped there but… but she remembered Luna's hesitation from so long ago about Rolf.

Months passed—or was it years? It was hard to tell. Luna became Ginny's savior. They did everything together. Ginny had always heard it took a village to raise a child, and, Merlin, she understood it now. Sometimes she wondered how she managed so long without Blaise and Luna's help; then she'd think of her husband and she'd force the thought away, because she had decided long ago that even if she hadn't been a good wife, she could at least be a good Malfoy and make Draco happy in some sense.

The children grew. Work remained steady. Draco finished the Spain project, with much praise from the media and the wizarding community as a whole. He moved on to a project in the States; apparently, they had multiple prisons there that they wanted Draco to start working on one by one. She thought of fighting him on it but didn't. Once the project began, Blaise, Luna, Lorcan, and Lysander filtered in and out of the house more often than Draco.

It became easier.

She'd respond when she had time to Draco's letters, always sure to let the children write to their father also. If he said he was free during a certain time, the group would wait by the Floo in the library. More than once, the children would become distracted and would run away from the fire. Ginny would watch, her stomach twisting, as Draco's eyes would search for the child who walked away.

There was a memory of Draco coming home from the States, and she noticed right away something different about him. That night, he came up to their room and looked her in the eyes for the first time in what felt like months—I want to be more present, I want to change things, but I can't do it if there are other people in our lives, she has to go, Lovegood and Blaise can't raise our children for us—and a hot rage swept over her. Now he cared? He wanted to be more present now? Why? What had changed?

"Oh, fuck off, Malfoy," Ginny snapped without hesitation. "You want to be more present now—"

The words died in her throat when she saw darkness cloud his face. Draco approached her angrily, his teeth bared in a snarl.

"You're a Malfoy too, in case you've forgotten," he hissed. "Don't you dare speak our name as if it's a curse."

Her chest fell and rose in heavy breaths as she fought the urge to hex him. How dare he? How dare he lecture her when he'd been gone for over a week with hardly any word to her!

Draco began packing up his things, and her jaw dropped.

"You're leaving?" she choked out. "You said you'd stay this week! You said—"

"Work needs me. Far more, it seems, than you do. I'm sure you'll be fine."

She watched as he left the bedroom, the door shutting quietly behind him. And she screamed.

They orbited around each other, never directly interacting but always aware of the other's presence. If he was home, he'd take the children when she had things to do or she'd drop them off at one of their parents' houses. She'd make sure to leave the room when he entered, and he offered her the same courtesy. And none were the wiser; in public, they'd smile and laugh together and pretend everything was fine when it wasn't.

Ginny refused to tell Luna to leave, to stop helping, when Draco was gone more often than not.

She remembered opening the windows of the house and letting the warm breeze filter through, she remembered Lyra dancing around the library, she remembered Draco forgetting to meet her for a Ministry event, she remembered Luna grabbing her hands and telling her that she was pregnant— Ginny stared at her friend in surprise because Luna didn't seem happy about it.

"Don't tell Blaise," Luna whispered.

Ginny recalled the distance she felt between her and Draco, she remembered wondering how to change it and if she even wanted too—sometimes their fights would leave her shaking with rage, as his eyes swept over her in a way that reminded her distinctly of the prat she remembered from Hogwarts. It felt like he didn't care anymore. She didn't do as he asked with Luna, and he had given up, and—

When Draco left to take the children to Azkaban with his mother, Blaise spoke to her about him—he's not sure you care anymore, he says he asked something of you and you ignored it, how are you two going to continue this relationship if you don't listen to each other and support each other— and she realized she had to visit Lucius again.

"I think he'll leave me if I don't break off my friendship with Luna. He thinks she's more a part of the children's lives than he is."

Lucius shrugged, almost lazily.

"I'm not sure why there is any confusion to this. He's your husband and he's asking you to make a sacrifice for him." He paused. "Either way, my son wouldn't leave you. You think he's never seen a successful marriage that lacked love?"

Did Draco truly not love her anymore? Was that how far they had fallen?

The idea of it hit her hard, and it took a moment for her to focus. She knew Lucius saw the vulnerability on her face for he tilted his head, whether in surprise or curiosity she didn't know.

"What's the point of a marriage if there's no love?" she managed to choke out. "I'm losing him, aren't I?"

Lucius sneered.

"I warned Draco not to marry out of love. Marriage is an agreement, a deal, it's not to be decided on with emotions. And here you sit before me, wondering why your relationship is struggling to survive," he spat. Then he straightened, forcing the rage away. "Either way, as I said only a moment ago, there is no need to worry. Draco would never leave you, Malfoys don't divorce—"

"What if I leave him?" Lucius went frighteningly still at her words. "I can't be married to someone who's with me out of obligation and not lov—"

"Do as he asked," Lucius hissed. "And let him be the husband he wishes to be."

She cried to Luna for hours two days later, telling her she had to pick Draco, that she had to make their marriage work. Easily, she recalled the way Draco's eyes widened when she told him that Luna wouldn't be around anymore so that they could focus on each other. It wasn't long after—a day or a week or an hour—that he reached over and grabbed her hand, more genuine affection in that single action than he had given her in months.

It was still a dance around each other; it was difficult to get back to the level of authentic intimacy that they had before he asked her to choose him or Luna, before she had questioned him over Cho, before he was working all the time and she was left with the children. But there were times their eyes would catch and it all felt okay. There were times he'd come to bed at a decent hour, and they'd lay beside each other and it seemed normal again. Though they hadn't probably shagged in months and only seemed affectionate in public, it seemed like they were getting somewhere.

Then, suddenly, Ginny could feel the parchment in her hands, her heart racing and palms sweating; Luna was in the hospital, Rolf was out of town, she had a miscarriage. She wasn't supposed to see Luna, she knew that, and if Draco were to find out, it'd be another betrayal. But he wasn't home, and Luna was all alone, and the boys were with Narcissa so she could take Lyra and no one would know—

"Rolf said it would take him a couple days to get back. Is that because of the portkeys in China?"

"He needs to finish collecting his findings, and then he'll be back."

"Luna… he should be here with you."

Luna's large eyes went from Lyra, who was humming and dancing around the hospital room, to Ginny.

"I don't miss him much. I'm glad that you were able to see me. I'm sure Draco won't be happy about this," she said softly.

"Don't stress over that. I'm more worried about you. Rolf should be here taking care of you—"

For weeks later—or was it months?— Ginny fumed as she thought over Luna's situation. Whenever she thought of Luna alone at St. Mungo's, she instantly thought of Blaise, who would've been more than happy to sit with Luna all day to keep her entertained. She thought of how she couldn't tell one of her dearest friends that the woman he desperately cared for had been alone in a weakened state and how utterly pissed Blaise would be if he ever found out. Ginny couldn't stop wondering if there was some way to help Luna's situation without ruining Draco's belief that Ginny wasn't interacting with her.

She needed Draco to stop thinking of Luna as a nuisance, as someone who was taking his spot, and help him remember that she was one of their good friends. Ginny knew that she needed her own relationship with Draco to improve in order for that to happen; on one side, when he was home from work, their relationship seemed stable, though certainly more friends than anything else. But, when he was away, their relationship was strained.

Her mind whirled with ideas.

"I need a favor."

Hermione, who had just finished telling Ginny about the bill she was looking to get passed, frowned at the change of conversation.

"Of course. Anything. What's going on?"

Ginny gnawed on her lip, her eyes darting around the café they were in, before landing on Hermione again. She leaned close and whispered.

"I need you to get something for me. Before you freak out, know it's not for me, okay? I just… I can't do it without it looking suspicious. But you know so many people that I'm sure it won't be weird if you just ask for a copy…"

"You're rambling," Hermione pointed out, eyebrows furrowed. "What is it that you need?"

Time passed.

Lyra set the rug in the library on fire when she didn't get the sweets she wanted, Orion slowly mastered waffle-making in the morning, Gray enjoyed wiggling his loose tooth in front of Ginny until it finally popped out. She caught Draco watching her once or twice, and she couldn't decipher the look on his face, if it was good or bad, and she wondered if they'd ever get back to normal…

Christmas was coming, and Ginny was actually excited for the annual Christmas Eve party, if only so all the family was together again. She'd have to go interview the Harpies' players after their practice soon, if she ever wanted to get that article the Daily Prophet wanted out. If she kept putting it off, she'd end up having to find time to do it while Draco was in the States. Merlin, she had told Asma she'd visit Lucius soon too; she'd have to have someone watch the children then—

"I'm honestly not sure this is the best course of action. Luna needs to make a decision like this on her own, and for you to bring these to her might be a breach of trust in a way, wouldn't it?"

"I'm not going to order her to give him the papers, Hermione," Ginny told her, anxiously glancing at the door. "I just want her to know there are other options than staying with him. You know Luna would never go to the Ministry to look over divorce papers."

"And she won't be angry that you'd suggest she leave her husband?"

"I'm not sure… but it's better than her being miserable thinking there's no way out." Hermione frantically searched through her bag, and Ginny sighed. When her eyes met the barista's, she flashed her a bright smile. "Hermione, really, my mum is going to be here any minute."

"I know, I know—"

She stared at the papers in her study for hours, flipping through them over and over again. What if Hermione was right and Luna reacted poorly to her suggesting she divorce Rolf? What if Luna actually did want to stay with him? What would Ginny do if someone ever brought her divorce papers and said she had other options than staying with Draco; if any of her family knew how hard it had been the past few years, they probably would've done it already, actually.

It didn't matter. Ginny didn't have the option of seeing Luna anyway, so the worst thing that could happen was Luna tossing the papers in the fire and Ginny receiving an angry letter from her. But there was always the chance that Luna would look over the divorce papers and realize there was more for her out there, that she could leave Rolf and raise the boys by herself, that she could start new with someone else.

She'd owl them to Luna after Christmas.

"You seem distracted."

Ginny blinked and focused on Draco. He was staring at her curiously. She sighed and shrugged.

"I think it's the holidays coming up," she told him, only half lying.

There was no way, after all, that she could tell him that her thoughts were caught up on Luna and the miscarriage and how she planned on intervening perhaps too much in her friend's marriage by sending Luna divorce papers that she never asked for.

"I won't be gone long," Draco responded, his gaze lingering on her. "I'll be able to help keep the children distracted when Bones comes by to decorate with her herd of house-elves."

Surprised laughter left her, and Draco's eyebrows rose, one corner of his lips curling into a small smile.

"I doubt it will be you distracting them as much as the house-elves."

"Indeed. At least I offered."

Ginny rolled her eyes and reached over to playfully shove him. She stilled when he caught her hand in his own. Draco brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. Her skin tingled at the contact and her breath caught in her throat.

"I think it will be one of our best Christmases yet," he whispered against her skin.

Warmth settled in her stomach, and Ginny found herself nodding, unable to look away. Tomorrow was their wedding anniversary, and the past few years they had only done dinner out before heading back home and going their separate ways. Maybe tomorrow would be different.

But when the night passed and the sun rose, when Ginny found Draco in the kitchen in the morning, there was something… different about him. She faltered in the doorway; he looked angry. Were his hands shaking? Ginny stepped in cautiously, ready to question him, but he didn't give her a chance.

"Draco?"

He stormed out of the kitchen.

That night, when Blaise sat beside her on the dewy grass, she tried to keep herself from breaking down. Every time, every single time, she thought her relationship with Draco was getting better it seemed to fall apart again. Blaise glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

"He forgot, then?"

"Yes, I suppose."

He had forgotten their anniversary, for the first time ever. She had been so sure the night before that they'd do something… something fun and meaningful today, something that showed how much they had grown—

The house was dark by the time she returned home. Briefly, she was surprised that Draco's study seemed empty, for he never went to bed before she did if they were fighting. The thought was forgotten as she made her way through the library and to her office.

And that's where she found him, cold fury painted across his handsome features.

Her eyes darted around, trying to make sense of why Draco would be in her study. For a moment, her hurt over him having forgotten their anniversary disappeared at the sight of him. Something was wrong.

"Draco?"

"You got divorce papers? Bloody divorce papers?"

The words barely made sense as she stared at him. Ginny looked from Draco to what he was pointing at on her desk. She stared in shock. It was… it was Luna's papers.

And there was a signature on them, the fresh ink reflecting in the firelight.

Ginny didn't realize she had walked to her desk until her thighs hit the edge of it, stopping her. A rushing sound filled her ears. Draco, he had... he had found the divorce papers she had begged Hermione for, the divorce papers that were to help Luna get on with her life, and he had—he had signed them.

Draco Lucius Malfoy

17/12/2017

The sound in her ears grew louder, and she squeezed her eyes shut. But his signature seemed burned into her eyelids. With a shuddering breath, Ginny opened her eyes and looked at Draco. He was waiting for her response, his chest rising and falling with restrained breaths. She searched his face, trying to find something to help calm the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

But all she saw was his utter outrage about the papers. The papers that he had signed.

The ache deep inside of her intensified.

"Oh," she breathed, pressing a hand against her chest. "Don't—don't start this."

The words felt odd leaving her mouth. They were angry and wounded and, somehow, strong; they didn't tremble as her hands did.

"Are you serious?" he hissed.

Draco signed the divorce papers.

"Do you know how mad this is?"

Her gaze drifted back to her desk as his voice grew louder, sharper.

"You can't pretend that these papers aren't here, that they aren't real!" Draco shouted, slamming his hand against the wall.

Ginny jumped in surprise, her eyes meeting his once more. Her mind raced—she should tell him the truth, that the papers were for Luna, they weren't for him, but he had signed his name, he hadn't bothered to speak to her about finding the papers, how dare he, how dare he; he had kissed her just last night as if they were okay again and were on the right track, and then he so easily threw it all away—and she felt herself react without thinking.

"Don't pretend you care now!" she cried out, leaning forward to grab the papers. "You're fooling no one!"

As she lifted the papers so that Draco could see where the ink had dried, Ginny marveled over the fact that the sheets were so light in her hands. Something that was causing her so much pain, that reopened a wound between her and her husband, was hardly anything real at all. Just parchment.

"Don't act the victim, Ginny, you're the one who got the papers! You're the one who wanted this! Were you going to wait till before or after Christmas to deliver these to me?"

She could hear the hurt in his voice, could see his hands shook as hers did, but she found it hard to concentrate on that. Why had he even been in her study? Had she left the papers out or had he gone searching for them? Ginny tried to think, to remember, but anger and despair rose in her so quickly she could hardly think.

"You signed them," was all she could manage, her grip on the papers tightening.

"Of course, I did," he spat.

How unconcerned he seemed over the ending of their marriage.

"What—what about the children? What about—" Ginny swallowed the word us and shook her head. "Do you not even care about—about them—"

Draco's eyes narrowed.

"Is that part of your plan? To make it seem like I don't care about my children anymore?"

Ginny took several steps back—the study was too small, she felt like she was suffocating, she needed more air—until she was in the library. A part of her plan? He thought she had planned this? Draco truly thought so little of her? What had the last year meant? Hadn't she been trying? Had he not seen it?

Draco followed her, and she watched him, trying to figure out what to say, what to do. The silence stretched on, much tenser, almost unbearable, and Ginny tried to breathe. She couldn't hold his stare, felt herself breaking under the weight of his accusations, and she looked away. Normally, the familiarity of the library — every chair, every book, the shelf where Orion had hurt his head a few months ago, the window that Gray opened no matter the season — calmed her.

But not now.

Her grip on the papers loosened and she flung them at him as though burned. The parchment pieces fluttered to the ground, landing in a circle around his feet, yet Draco made no move to pick them up.

"Stay, then," she ordered, though her voice cracked.

Ginny bit on her lip to keep it from trembling.

"Prove to me that you care. Don't go to the States. Stay here… with me."

She hated how desperate she sounded, but Ginny couldn't help it. If he left — if he walked away after signing the papers — how could they fix it?

The tension was palpable between them, leaving her thoughts to run rampant.

Perhaps it was inevitable. Maybe Ginny had been prolonging the situation, turning her cheek from the challenges they faced, pretending nothing was wrong. It could be for the best. Yes, it made sense, but it still felt so wrong, because she was supposed to be happy with Draco forever. The children… What were they supposed to tell the children if they didn't find a solution? Was there a chance, even now, that the children witnessed their parents' argument even now?

The thought of their kids overhearing their conversation made her stomach twist, and she glanced uneasily towards the dark corridor outside the library.

"The world doesn't revolve around you and what you deem important, Ginny," Draco drawled, bringing her attention back to him. "I cannot stay."

When he left the next morning, pressing a long kiss to each of the children's foreheads as he said goodbye, she watched silently, barely able to process the moment. He was leaving. She had asked him to stay and he was leaving. This was his answer.

"Give Mummy a kiss goodbye too!" Lyra cried out as Draco headed to the front door.

He froze, and Ginny became alert again. She could see the tension in his body as he turned, and she wondered if he'd actually come to her. But the expectations of his children were enough to make him fight his instinct, and he stalked towards her, eyes cold and dead. Ginny distantly thought his gaze seemed as empty as it had when they first met again at Split Potion all those years ago. Then, before she could stop what was about to happen, Draco leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek.

The smell of mint overwhelmed her, and she had to press a hand to her mouth so the children didn't see how quickly her mask broke. And then he was gone.

She hardly realized what she was doing as she went through her day: take the children to the Burrow; don't think about Draco; have lunch with her mum, smile, pretend everything was okay; head out to the Harpies' practice; interview the Keeper, Roe; get on the broom; don't think about Draco, don't think about Draco—

Draco had signed the divorce papers and was going to leave her.

Someone screamed and Ginny looked up, dropping the parchment that she had barely written on. A Bludger sped towards her and she went to move but she wasn't fast enough.

A flash of white hot pain. Then everything went black.

~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

Her eyes jerked open and she pushed back with a cry, slamming into something behind her. Ginny looked around frantically—the Bludger, where was the Bludger—but someone was crowding her view. She pushed hard at the person, but they didn't move.

"Breathe, breathe, it's me, Gin, it's me."

Ginny looked up, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and focused on the face before her.

Draco.

"Are you okay?"

He squatted down beside her, reaching out to her automatically. When his fingers brushed her arm, she flinched away from him.

Because she remembered. Merlin, she remembered.

Draco stared at her, his hand dropping to his side. His eyes traced over her face, taking her in. Then he let out a long breath and leaned back on his heels, sitting on the floor. A sudden wave of exhaustion made his body sag. Ginny tried to steady her breathing as she stared at him, her mind racing to catch up with the situation, because she wasn't on the Quidditch field anymore, she was at the Burrow with Draco.

He ran his hands over his face before meeting her gaze.

"Welcome back, Ginny."

~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

Author's Note: Eek! How much do you guys hate me?! Sorry for the cliffhanger but this chapter was so long (37 pages) and I honestly had to cut it off somewhere. As always, thank you to Jess for reading over this chapter and editing out all the mistakes for me. I don't know where I'd be without you. And, as always, thank you guys for so patiently waiting for me to post this chapter!

Do you believe me when I say this was the hardest chapter I think I've ever written? There was so much buildup and so many questions that needed to be answered that it took me ages to get it just right. But I hope it was worth it. I also stated at the beginning of the chapter about some changes in the previous chapters to make sure this timeline worked. If there's any confusion, please reference the note at the top. If you have any more questions, I will certainly answer!

To the Anon who just celebrated a birthday, happy birthday! I wish I could've gotten the chapter out for you then but my work week was insane and I just couldn't.

So, yes, thank you for waiting. Please review! And I will try my best to not take as long to get the next chapter out! Sorry for the cliffhanger! And please tell me what you think—I honestly can't wait!