A Lifetime of Lies

Chapter Four

New Beginnings

Ginny felt her eyes growing heavier, sleep was beckoning. With forced motivation she got up from her spot on the sofa, an afternoon nap was the last thing she needed. Especially now, she would surely have dreams--or nightmares--of her past.

She just stood for a moment, in a trance of sorts. Trying desperately to pull herself out of her memories. Suddenly a sound from the fireplace snapped her out of her zoned out state. Ginny glanced over towards the direction of the noise, someone was flooing her.

Her eyes narrowed in interest, Ginny made her way over to the fireplace. Expecting to see either Harry or one of her family members, she was shocked to find a young blonde waiting for her. A perky beautiful looking blonde-haired woman with big blue eyes and an innocent smile.

"May I help you?"

"Yeah," the girl said cheerfully, "I'm looking for Harry, is he here? I know he told me that he's never home…but he wasn't at the office so I figured I might as well check here."

"Harry isn't here," Ginny said coldly, "did you want to leave a message?"

"Hmm, well do you have any idea where he would be?"

"Work."

"No…I suppose I could leave a message, are you the maid or something?"

"Yes," Ginny responded with a sense of irony, "I am the maid."

"Okay, well just tell Harry that Heather can't make it tonight because I have to go home to see my parents. Oh! And tell him that I had a fabulous time last night, and I will see him on Saturday. That's all, bye!"

The head disappeared from the fireplace and Ginny stood still in shock. Harry had a Heather. How lovely, how just absolutely bloody perfect.

She stared blankly out the window as if she would see something that would unlock the meaning to life for her. She could have sworn that she saw someone out the window…it was only her own reflection though. Feeling silly, she attempted to laugh, but could not shake the overpowering urge to cry. The person she had thought she had seen was old and rundown looking.

Feigning bravery that she did not possess at the moment, Ginny turned to look into the mirror that was located on their wall. Walking closer and feeling more miserable with every step, she examined her appearance with objectiveness. She felt a sob building up in her throat as she gingerly touched the wrinkles on her forehead and around her eyes…when had those appeared?

Her hair was horrid. It had not been cut or styled in ages; it was now long and constantly tangled. Over the years, her youthful burnt orange coloring had faded to a pasty sort of color. She had always heard others say that once you had children you let your appearance go…but she had never noticed it in herself before.

"No wonder," she said in shaky voice, "that he'd have someone on the side. You're a wife, not a lover."

She shook her head and tried her hardest not to cry. It was probably just all a misunderstanding…he would not have taken a mistress. He loved her, she knew he did. But if he was cheating on her, if he didn't love her…then what was she going to do? All she had known for most of her adult life was how to be Harry Potter's wife. If she wasn't that anymore, than who was she?

Ginny looked around at her surroundings. It all seemed so fake now, so meaningless. This house that Harry had bought, the furnishings that Harry had bought. He had bought it all, and if he did not want her anymore than she did not want to be here anymore.

She hastily grabbed the notepad that they kept by the door for little memos to each other.

Harry,

I went for a walk.

Oh, and Heather was looking for you, she cannot make it tonight. But rest assured that she had a glorious time last night.

p.s.

Didn't you have to work late last night?

Ginny

Satisfied with her note and the look on her husband's face when he read it Ginny threw open the door and walked out into the world.

Ginny decided that there is one major problem with venturing out into the world: there is nothing to do. She settled for just walking around for a bit, but everything seemed to grow more horrible by doing that.

She passed the park where she and Harry had always played with the kids. Her eyes threatened to mist over when she saw the swing set where she had so many good memories. When Lily was a baby Ginny would hold her in her lap on the first swing and Harry would push them both…

And Dante had gotten his first scrap on the slide near the swing, she had been so proud of him for not crying…

It was her fault. If she had not been so bloody wrapped up in her past she would have been a proper wife. Harry wouldn't have needed to cheat if she had been there for him. But no, she was constantly wondering and regretting things that were far-gone.

Could she really blame him?

Her tears finally spilled over as she sat down on a park bench. She did not know what to think, how she was supposed to feel. When she had first found out she had been more concerned about her bloody appearance than the fact that Harry was finding solace and comfort in the arms of another.

All she was concerned with was that he had cheated because she was not beautiful anymore.

"I'm a horrible person," Ginny cried between sobs.

"There, there dear, it can't be as bad as all that."

She felt her breath catch in her throat as she came to the realization that someone else was there with her. She looked up through blurred vision to see an old woman, smiling down kindly at her.

"Excuse me," Ginny whispered, "I wasn't aware that anyone else was here."

The woman gave her a friendly look, "I have found over the years that when you barely reach five feet in height, it's easy for people to not notice you around. Now, why don't you tell me why such a pretty thing as you is sitting on a bench crying?"

Ginny could not help but feel a bit of self-gratification at being called pretty. And then she hated herself even more after receiving that feeling. She felt herself start to cry harder and the woman placed a reassuring arm around Ginny's shoulders. Thinking of the way that her mother used to hold her this way whenever she would cry as a child, Ginny did not bother to push her away.

"Now," the woman said once Ginny's sob began to subside, "tell me what is wrong."

Ginny lifted her head to look into the woman's eyes to tell her that it was personal; she didn't want to talk about it. But the woman had sharp, bright blue eyes that were compelling…hypnotizing. Despite herself, and her common sense Ginny felt her entire sob story begin to come out.

"My husband," she said shakily, "my husband is…cheating on me."

The woman let out a gasp, "now would any man need to cheat on you?"

"Oh, it's all my fault! If I had been a good wife, the wife he deserves, then he wouldn't have gotten a Heather!"

"Well," the old woman said indignantly, "I've never heard it being the fault of the woman for the man going astray."

Ginny shook her head, "you don't understand though, I'm a terrible wife. When we got married I was already pregnant!"

"Dear, that isn't so bad, this is a relatively modern world, you are not a bad person for having…relations, before marriage."

"But," she hiccupped, "I was pregnant with another man's child!"

"Oh. Well, I suppose that does complicate things somewhat. Why did you not marry this other man instead?"

"Because I was scared…and stupid. And I do love Harry--that's my husband's name--but half of the time I just wonder, what if I had chose differently?"

The woman gave Ginny's knee a squeeze. "We all have decisions in our lives that we wish we could change. Do you truly wish to change yours, or do you merely wonder?"

Ginny felt her tears stop, "I…he died. The other man died a few years back, and the day that I heard it, I have never felt so heartbroken, so alone. If he had been with me, he wouldn't have died…I wish I had chosen him, I wish I had at least attempted to follow my heart rather than my common sense."

The woman smiled, "very well. Go to sleep, dear, you've had a long day."

Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but despite herself, she felt her eyelids growing heavier. And while she was thinking of how she was not tired, she fell into the darkness of her mind.

Ginny awoke waiting for the feeling of stiffness and soreness that would surely come from having the stupidity of falling asleep on a park bench. However, she wasn't sore at all…in fact, she was rather comfortable.

Confused and still slightly groggy Ginny opened an eye to look at her surroundings; she was in a bed…but not her bed. This one had green silk sheets, huge fluffy pillows, and…another body?

Ginny gasped and jumped away from the foreign body, that certainly wasn't Harry. This person--who had their back to her--had pale skin, and blonde…almost silvery…hair.

"Draco?" she whispered disbelievingly.

The man jerked awake and rolled over, "Gin," he said with both eyes still closed, "remember how we talked about sleeping until the afternoon when we were lucky enough to get all the kids to Hogwarts? Why are you ruining our beautiful dream?" He reached over and pulled her to him, "now, go back to sleep."

Ginny pushed him away and sat up, "Draco?" she repeated once more, "how…why…I have to go, I have to get home."

Losing his teasing mood, he sat up and grabbed her shoulders, "Ginny, what the hell are you talking about? Are you quite alright?"

"No…no, where am I? Why are you here?"

He narrowed his eyes and sighed deeply. "It's too early to play these games…you are at your home, and if you have forgotten where that is, it is Malfoy Manner. I am here because I am your husband, just as I have been for well over a decade now."

"I…" she remembered the old woman. The old woman with her hypnotizing blue eyes. And she felt duped. A genie, the woman was a bloody genie! But not the stereotypical genie with a lamp that you rub, no, the modern genie was deceptive, and tricky. And Ginny had said the words 'I wish.' Shit.

"Gin," he looked at her worriedly, "Are you feeling ill? You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine," she whispered. Suddenly she looked at him with a smile; Draco was alive, and he was here with her. "Could you…hold me?"

He smiled in a goofy way that she had nearly forgotten, the way he would only smile at her, and only when they were alone. She had always loved that smile; it was when he would let down his guard. "Do you even have to ask?"

He hugged her close to him and she felt herself falling back asleep. She didn't want to worry about all that was wrong with this situation…right now, she just wanted to lay in the arms of a man that she had loved half of her life and who she thought was dead.