The next night Harry was different.

The next night he felt guilty for his treatment of his wife and daughter. He had let the guilt seep in too deep to drown it with shots of firewhisky.

So he had refrained from the drink altogether.

Just for a night.

In one night he was going to make it up to Ginny and Delia. He'd be the loving husband and father he should have been. They would fall into his arms and their love for him would intensify, they would be a family, a happy family.

Ginny was writing a letter to Hermione, when she heard Harry's key turn in the lock.

She knew letters were a rare comfort to her speechless friend, a nurse would read it to Hermione and as she stared blankly out of the window of the institute, she would allow her once sharp mind to take her to the places Ginny described; even though these places weren't even real to Ginny- as much as Ginny had planned and imagined the joy of travel- Harry restrained her wounded spirit and took advantage of its weakness after he had broken her.

Ginny flinched as she felt a rush of air behind that was Harry opening the kitchen door.

"Hi Ginny"

Harry's speech was not slurred, as she expected. Nevertheless she didn't turn to face him, and recoiled slightly as she heard his shoes squeak against the grey lino of their kitchen floor.

A gentle hand rested lightly on her shoulder, as Harry laid a butterfly kiss upon her bare neck.

God how she wanted that caress, how she needed to succumb to his arms.

But still she stayed seated at the kitchen table, shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry Ginny. I love you, Please let me?"

"You're not drunk"

A simple statement followed by Ginny's wary silence

"H...Harry..."

Words stuck in her throat, as she stood to face him.

"I… You hurt me, so much"

She was standing in front of him facing him. Harry leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Ginny could not stop the tears from falling, she was so, so confused.

"I'm going to check on Delia"

Harry watched her leave the room and was cushioned with thoughts of another try at winning back his beautiful wife.

A couple of hours later Ginny stood alone and motionless by the window in her and Harry's bedroom. She stared at the view of orange street lamps and speeding cars below.

Harry had graced her with his absence.

Until now,

Ginny was aware of his presence as Harry walked into the room.

Ginny was surprisingly pleased when he put his hands on her shoulders, yet winced slightly at the pain and memories of one of her bruises inflicted by him, underneath the index finger of his left hand.

Again she dared not turn to face him for fear of seeing his demons behind those boyish eyes. Ginny could not, however deny herself the pleasure of the light kisses he laid upon her neck and jawbone.

Harry slipped the straps of her white cotton night dress over Ginny's slim lightly freckled shoulders, so he could kiss her shoulders and back too.

Ginny finally found the courage to face her husband and the demons that resided in his heart.

Ginny could not help but bury her face in the cavity of Harry's collarbone. They were like a jigsaw, she mused, and that, was where she fitted. Tears seeped into his shirt although no sobs, silent or otherwise racked her body.

She unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, carefully, afraid to touch the pressure point that would send Harry into his usual state of violence.

He helped her slide the dress down her thin figure, and kissed her bare breasts, her stomach her mouth, and fingering an edge of her cotton knickers. Holding her close, to make up for the love he had been denying her.

Standing in only underpants they both looked at each others bodies as though again this was their first love making session, in the dormitory in Hogwarts, when they were carefree. Except now there was darkness in their exploration of the others' body.

Ginny could not help but see a hand that had hit her, a leg that had kicked her, a torso that had lain atop her mercilessly thrusting away his sorrow.

Harry on the other hand, saw nervousness in his fiery Ginny, she was thinner she'd lost her childbearing curves and more, her bone structure was more prominent and a dull glint showed in her eyes and bruises were scattered across her pale flesh.

He had done this to her, and he knew it. It made him sick that it was he who had done this to his wife, when she had done nothing but love him.

He kissed her full lips again as he lowered her onto their bed and ran a hand over her frail body, placing a hand gently on her stomach.

"Can I?"

Harry asked moving his hand lower.

Ginny whimpered in reply, pushing her hips into Harry's, his erection pressing against her cotton knickers, through his own boxers.

Sliding off each others' underwear they held each other close as Harry entered Ginny kissing her face and caressing her.

They came together, and slept naked in each others arms, Ginny's head in Harry's collarbone.

Pretence that this wasn't Ginny's delusion of a changed husband, who would lose his will to resist the alcohol that made him forget about love.

Ginny woke alone, naked and ashamed to her baby's cry. Harry had gone to his small shop that sold broomsticks and the like, only to go alone to the pub afterwards to drown his thoughts, and Ginny's will to stay strong.

(A.N. Sorry My chapters are quite short... Please Read and Review with advice for the story? )