Chapter 12: Ginny

Wednesday, 3 December 2025

It was Wednesday again and Ginny was in for a torture session – in other words: Pilates – with her best friend. The only reason she hadn't cancelled like she had done the previous week, was the urgent need to talk to her.

"How is everything?" Hermione asked after closing and locking the door behind her.

Ginny let out a huff of exasperation. If only she knew!

The previous night, when Ginny had come home from work, someone had stepped out from the backdoor of her house – someone she hadn't thought she would see within a hundred-mile radius of her home.

Malfoy.

She had been too stunned to react, both by the fact that it had been Malfoy, as well as the thought that Harry had actually seen someone else than his immediate family. Malfoy had had a good twenty-second advantage to walk briskly to meet her in the middle of the backyard and confront her.

"Mrs Potter, how lovely to meet you." Malfoy said with a hint of a sneer in his voice.

He was dressed in high collared black robes, and his longish, platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

When Ginny merely stared at him in mild horror, he continued, "I assume you are still trying to wrap your small head around the matter of my presence in here, so let me help," he said with a nasty smirk. "Your husband graciously invited me to have tea with him, and didn't take no for an answer."

Malfoy pursed his lips. "I believe his exact words were 'Malfoy, you owe me' after I had sent my fifth refusal by owl."

Ginny scoffed. "What?"

Malfoy gave her a studious look. "I always thought you were too quick witted to be a Weasley, but perhaps I was mistaken."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "No, I mean, why would Harry invite – you – of all people, into our home?" Ginny asked bluntly, feeling both frustrated and bewildered. She glanced at the house, feeling a sudden wave of panic. "Is he okay?"

Malfoy arched a brow at her and looked amused. "Are you certain you want me to answer that?"

"Damn it, Malfoy," Ginny hissed.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and his expression became slightly strained. "He… wanted to make an apology."

Ginny gaped at him. "He…"

"While witnessing you trying to grasp the concept of long sentences, I'm afraid I am late from another meeting and simply must make my excuses."

"Malfoy." Ginny gritted through her teeth after the man had walked past her, his head held high.

Malfoy turned to look at her, his face now void of the contemptuousness and smugness that Ginny had always seen in his expression. He looked somewhat concerned.

"Fix him." He said to the ground between them. "I can't believe I am saying this aloud –" he shook his head slightly, before continuing – "I need Potter to be someone I can despise in peace, and not… not that." He said and waved his hand towards the house.

Ginny's mind whirled as she stared at the man in front of her. "Afraid he'll befriend you, after all these years?" She asked with a sharp voice, knowing it would set him off and wipe the somewhat bothersome look of compassion away from his face.

Malfoy scoffed, his face hardening. "Tell Potter if he extends another invite, I will send a hex in the return owl. Consider my debt paid."

With that, Malfoy stomped away from the house and disapparated as soon as he was outside the wards.

Ginny retold the encounter to her friend as they walked towards the studio. Needless to say, Hermione was as taken aback by it as Ginny had been and urged her friend to continue.

"So, when I went inside, Harry was in the kitchen, cooking, as if nothing had happened!" Ginny said in exasperation.

"He made dinner?" Hermione asked, her brows lifting up in surprise. "In the kitchen?"

Ginny nodded quickly, her eyes widening. "Yes, can you believe it?" Ginny breathed, shaking her head slightly.

They both knew it was no small thing, for Harry to enter their kitchen after all that had happened in there, and even spend time in there for more than a brief moment.

"He just went there one day, and then the next day, and each time he stayed longer," Ginny said in a mild bewilderment. She had been utterly surprised when Harry had sat down for breakfast with her the previous Sunday.

"I mean, he has been seeing the Healer for two weeks, and he's already spending a lot more time in the house than he was before. I mean, yes – he's still locked up in the shed at times, and he outright refuses to sleep in the same floor with me, he definitely doesn't want to talk about it with me, but… he has started to seek my company. And for the past couple of days, whenever he's been at the house, he has spent a lot of his time in the kitchen, trying out different things – which I'm definitely not complaining about, as it turns out he's a rather good cook." Ginny said, shaking her head slightly at the bewilderment she was feeling.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and smiled widely at Ginny, who too had stilled in the middle of the sidewalk. "I'm so happy to hear that, Gin."

Ginny nodded and smiled at her friend, feeling somewhat overemotional by the events. She cleared her throat and forced her mind back to the previous night.

"Well, as I was saying – about Malfoy – when I got inside, Harry was in the kitchen, looking so comfortable even though it had been Malfoy who had had tea with him."

Hermione hummed in agreement. "It does sound a bit suspicious. Continue," she said, urging Ginny.

"Apparently, Harry's Healer had encouraged him to start going through unresolved matters from his past – those of which he has the capability to handle at the moment. And apparently, one of them is Malfoy," Ginny said with a hint of incredulity in her voice as they continued their walk towards the studio.

"So – they had had tea and had a discussion about their schoolyears. Harry told me that he had wanted to apologise him what had happened between them – mainly the bathroom incident, you know –" Ginny said with a grimace – "when Malfoy had nearly died."

Hermione cringed but nodded thoughtfully.

Ginny pursed her lips as she thought about the blonde git before she continued. "I doubt Malfoy extended the same courtesy to Harry though – I mean, you do remember how horrible he was?"

Hermione hummed in agreement. "What did Harry say?"

Ginny shrugged. "He didn't really go into the details, but said that Malfoy had been polite and understanding."

Hermione looked surprised.

"My thoughts exactly." Ginny grunted.

Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek and looked contemplative. "There of course is a possibility that Malfoy has grown up and is not who he was twenty years ago," she said shrewdly.

"If Malfoy was being polite, I think it was more to do with the fact that he doesn't want to feel guilty about disliking Harry when Harry is not himself…" Ginny muttered. "He basically told me so."

Hermione gave Ginny a long look but didn't argue back. "Whatever it was, I think we should focus on Harry and how he is making progress."

They stepped into the Pilates studio, and as Ginny had anticipated, the one-hour class was pure hell.

"Why don't we go to some – " Ginny huffed a long breath as she tried to hold herself rather unsuccessfully in the teaser position – "Bloody hell," she grunted, her legs flopping down against the mat – "a beginner's class?!" She hissed. "This is torture!"

Their instructor walked past them. "You should begin by learning the one-leg teaser," she told Ginny with a pitying smile, "Keep one knee bent and your foot flat on the ground. It is a bit easier than the full teaser, but this way you can build yourself up to the full teaser."

Ginny smiled tensely, even though on the inside, she was somewhat annoyed. "Yeah. Thanks." She muttered. After a few tries, she managed to keep herself still in the one-leg version.

"You can do all the postures modified, but now that you mention it, I think we could see when their beginner's classes are held," Hermione said with a thoughtful look.

Ginny watched Hermione to hold the posture perfectly, and thought her friend was in a rather good shape. "You know… Bruce is a one lucky sod – I mean, look at you, Mione," Ginny said with an admiring look.

When Hermione glanced at her, Ginny winked back.

Hermione's focus faltered, and her legs and back dropped down on the mat, "Ginny!" She whispered hastily, looking around them while her cheeks tinged with red.

Ginny wanted to roll her eyes at her friend. No one was looking at them – and Ginny was rather sure that no one was even interested to hear their topics.

"It's cute that you're blushing at that," Ginny said teasingly. "Is he a good kisser?"

Hermione spluttered before she cleared her throat and replied very quietly, "He is."

Ginny sniggered. "And in… other areas?" She whispered knowingly.

Hermione's focus faltered and she dropped down on the mat again, not looking at Ginny as she spoke primly. "I'm not answering that."

Ginny sighed deeply. "Too bad. Your budding relationship is the only excitement that has happened to me in a long time."

Hermione frowned at Ginny, not even trying to take the posture again. Their class was nearly ending, and both of them opted to lie on their mats, facing each other. "Have you talked to him about it? Now that he has started to open up a bit?"

Ginny wanted to let out a hysterical laugh. As if Harry was open enough to receive that kind of request. No, they were still on a rocky ground, and Ginny simply had to let Harry direct the pace. She shook her head slightly at Hermione. "No. He'll definitely run for the hills if I talk to him about intimacy."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I think you have a good plan there – give him time. You probably know the best when to bring the subjects up." She said and arched a brow at Ginny. "However, you're still not getting any juicy details about my relationship."

Ginny grinned. "So… there are juicy details?"

"Ginny. Stop talking."

After Pilates, Ginny decided to visit James, knowing he had a day off. The visit was long overdue – James had been avoiding her and Harry for a while now, even before the incident. Sure, Ginny had been in James's every game but that was about it – James never stayed after the game to chat with her, and before the game he seemed too anxious to have a proper conversation. It had to stop. Ginny knew that even though Harry was getting better, he would need James's support. And she was sure her son would need his father's.

It wasn't like she hadn't tried before – she had! But there had been so many other, more pressing things to solve and figure out that she hadn't been able to try hard enough. James had been slipping away slowly, and now she needed to pull him back where he belonged.

James opened the door after a brief wait and looked surprised. "Mum. Um. Didn't know you were coming by…"

Ginny gave him a tight smile as they stood at the door in silence. "Can I come in?"

James blinked and shrugged. "Yeah. Sure." He moved aside to let Ginny in and then walked towards his sitting room while scratching the back of his head.

"Tea? Don't really have anything else to offer since my grocery delivery was rescheduled for later tonight." James said, standing next to his couch, looking a bit out of place.

Ginny shook her head and sat down in the armchair. "No, thank you. I'm good."

She looked around briefly. The flat was like it had been the last time she had visited him – which had to be months ago. It was still as tidy and sparsely decorated as before, everything standing out as every furniture and cupboard was either black or white. It looked like James didn't really spend time at home, or if he did, it was only to sleep and eat before he would return to Bodmin Moor.

"Can we talk?" She asked and turned her focus on him.

She studied his appearance and took notice how weary and downcast he looked. Ginny wondered if losing two games in a row was the reason for his glumness. She knew that while James had lost some games during his short career in the team, the Magpies mostly won their games.

James cleared his throat and nodded. "Sure." He sat down on the couch and lifted his brows at her. "What's up?"

Ginny watched him closely. "Are you okay? You look… like you're going through a hard time."

"Mum…" James grunted, closing his eyes and looking strained.

"Is it the two last games? James – you have still won almost half of the –"

"Mum!"

Ginny fell silent and frowned as her son gritted his teeth and glared at the coffee table with a frustrated expression.

"I don't wanna talk about Quidditch." James said bluntly. "If that's what you were here for, don't –"

"It's not," Ginny interrupted him sharply and gave James a serious look. "It is your father."

James groaned and looked away in annoyance, as if knowing what she was about to say.

"That is not the reaction I was expecting – nor it is something I will put up with," Ginny said, exasperated. She waited until James looked back at her in surprise before she continued. "It is time you bury whatever the hell is lingering between you and him and be his son again – be there when he needs you!"

James blinked at her in disbelief but said nothing.

"I don't know what happened to you." Ginny said quietly and gave him a beseeching look. "What did he do to you?"

She wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

James huffed. "He did nothing. Sound familiar?"

Ginny pursed her lips. She knew that Harry had been somewhat married to his job, especially the past few years before the incident. They both had been. She wondered if James resented his father – and her as well – about it, that they hadn't been there as much as James would've wanted after he had graduated Hogwarts.

She sighed. "James. Is this about your father and me working long hours instead of being at home with you after your graduation?"

James narrowed his eyes slightly. "It's not just after my graduation – It's – I dunno – dad especially seemed to lost his interest in me the moment I chose to play professionally. Like it was some kind of punishment to him! As if his wife hadn't been in the exact same position years ago!"

Ginny bit her lip and focused on James's words. There was so much he didn't understand, but so much what he did. She knew that Harry had been disappointed by James's career choice, because she and he both remembered that the years Ginny had played with the Harpies had been the hardest for their relationship – at least, the hardest it had been before the incident. And they had lived through a war, so that was saying a lot. But she also knew that Harry had got over it, and had been proud of James. He still was. He just hadn't showed it to his son, which was definitely something Harry had to work on.

"James… I'm sorry you felt like that – and I'm sorry if he made it so obvious," She said quietly, trying to find the right words. "It was hard for him, reliving the same things he had gone through when I played."

James lifted his brows at her. "Why would it be hard for him? I'm not you."

Ginny nodded slowly. "No, you're not. But he – I suppose he was afraid this would happen. He was afraid of losing you, like he almost lost me," she explained, and James shook his head in irritation.

"This didn't happen because of Quidditch."

Ginny sighed. "Well, I'm sure it wasn't just because of Quidditch. But I also know that Quidditch has played its part in it. I know how it changes you – how you're suddenly under the public's watchful eye, surrounded by pressure and admiration." she said and looked down on her lap, remembering exactly how she had changed during her Quidditch years.

She had become distant, not really caring about anything besides the game. Sure, she had had Harry and her family, and probably hadn't strayed from them like she felt James now had, but she knew she hadn't been the person she was before or who she was now. She still remembered how she and George had once had a late-night discussion during one of the winter breaks and how her brother had told her that he didn't really like how she had turned out, and that he thought that it had been because of Quidditch. She had started to question herself after that. Her relationship with Harry had slowly started to get better, and then Harry had proposed her. And not long after, she had found out that she was expecting James.

James let out a disagreeing sound. "Are you actually saying the reason I'm 'under the public's eye' is Quidditch?" He asked sceptically.

Ginny gave him a strained look. "Of course not."

However, even though they were all somewhat famous and in public more than they wanted, she was sure Quidditch hadn't really helped matters. She wondered if some of James escapades had happened if he had decided to pursue a different career for himself. And even if they had happened, she was sure not all of them would have ended up in the next day's paper.

As she looked at James, she knew that the game and everything that came with it – the fame, the expectations, the pressure – had changed him like it had changed her.

There was a long silence, during which James looked firmly away, and Ginny thought about the best way to continue their discussion.

"He's seeing a Mind Healer, you know…" Ginny said as she stared at James's profile.

He stiffened slightly and glanced at her, curiosity in his expression. "He is?"

Ginny nodded and let out a weary sigh. "I'm not trying to guilt you into seeing him," she said and paused as James gave him a very pointed look. "Well, perhaps I am a bit," She added with a grimace, before continuing with a softer voice, "but he really is trying now. And I think… I think he would really like to talk to you, James."

James frowned at her and then looked down on the floor between them.

"Yeah, okay." He said quietly.

Ginny was cheering inwardly. She smiled at James. "I'm glad to hear that. Are you still free next Sunday?"

James nodded mutedly. "I can swing by then."

"Brilliant!" Ginny said and for the first time in a long while, she felt that everything was going to be all right. She knew there would be a lot of work to do – a lot of talking to be done – and that they wouldn't be able to start over again with a clean slate before the past and all the complications had been addressed.

"I should go," Ginny said, not sure if James was expecting her to leave or not. "Unless… you want to…?"

James gave her a quick shake of his head. "No, um, I was just, uh, thinking of going for run, actually…"

"Of course," she said with a smile and stood up.

James followed her example and walked her to the door. "Good seeing you, mum."

"You too, James. Oh, and I'll be there on Friday – the Cannons match. Your brother too." She said, knowing that Albus usually watched and reported the Friday matches. "And your uncle, most likely," she said and rolled her eyes. Ron was undoubtedly going to be there, cheering for his favourite team. He probably hadn't missed a single Cannons game after the war.

James smiled tensely. "Okay."

She wanted to say more – that James shouldn't worry so much, that the Cannons had lost every game so far, and even if the Magpies lost again, it wouldn't matter. She wanted to tell him that she too had had her bad terms and games during her Quidditch years, and that it would get better. But James seemed so closed off suddenly, like he was expecting her to talk about Quidditch and like he definitely didn't want to hear a word about it. So, instead she pulled him into a rather awkward hug – James remained mostly stiff during it – and then took a step back and waved at him before she disapparated with a soft 'pop'.