Chapter 15: I Forgot He was There

"GINNY!" Harry Potter stumbled from the grate of his fireplace, glasses askew and fist throbbing.

"What?" Ginny ran into the kitchen half-dressed and a baby on her hip.

"I have to tell you something, and I honestly can't believe this, but I think I've discovered something huge." He clutched at his stomach, which tightened with anxiety. He'd just punched Hermione's beast wrangler whilst simultaneously discovering a massive secret.

"Is it your scar?" She looked worried as she placed her child in the high chair. She turned to her husband and pressed a hand to his head. As if that would shield him from Voldemort's ghost inhabiting his forehead… a common nightmare for the young Mrs Potter.

"No, nothing like that!" He grinned, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Much more exciting."

"Oh?" had Harry gone mad? That was always a possibility

"I think Malfoy fancies Hermione," he sputtered.

Ginny tried, she really tried to act surprised, to keep Hermione's confidence, but it was too hard. She sniggered at her husband. "Why do you think that?"

"Why are you laughing?" Harry was furious. He'd come home after booking Marcus just to share this gossip with his wife, who he knew was dying of boredom.

"I'll tell you why I'm laughing when you tell me why you think Draco Malfoy fancies our muggle-born friend." Ginny turned and patted her son's cheek as he babbled along with her, as though in on the joke. Maybe he is. Perhaps he's a psychic baby! Ginny mentally scolded herself for her need to make James more interesting. The sad fact was that babies were boring.

"You think it's a silly idea? You think I'm mad, but wait till you hear this, Marcus the beast guy called Hermione a mudblood and Malfoy punched him then punched his bird." Harry whispered, as though prying ears could possibly hear this juiciest of gossips.

"He punched Celia?" Ginny gasped.

"No, Draco punched the big falcon!" Harry flapped as if to demonstrate.

"I was joking." Ginny tugged her lips to the side and gave her husband a very sympathetic gaze. "How are you an Auror?"

"I don't think my inability to get your jokes has any bearing on my employ…." Ginny stopped Harry in his tracks, he was talking like a ministry worker, and it was annoying.

"I'm not talking about my joke, Lawman. I'm talking about you not picking up on your best friend moaning about Draco Malfoy for months, about how he's always showing up at her office. She turns up stinking of sex; next thing you know, she's in the paper with none other than Malfoy with his arm wrapped around her, freeing bloody elves, and you mister detective are still not realising that they're fucking!" Ginny hadn't meant to shout or swear, particularly in front of the baby, but she was bored, and he was slow.

"NO!" Harry slapped his hands to his mouth.

"YES." Ginny hissed, her eyes turned that evil way they oft did before she cast a bat-bogey. "And I know they have because she's my best friend. Not yours, Potter. Mine. You get Ron, and that's your lot." She gloated triumphantly, James clapped. At least someone liked her.

"Why are you being so mean?" Harry looked stung, he took a step back, and Ginny felt the cold plunge of reality hit her.

"I don't know." She shook her head, eyes filling with tears. "Sorry, babe." she offered him a watery smile. "I'm really bored, and I had a lot of arguments in my head with you this morning."

"Stop arguing with me in your brain then." he shook his head and pushed his glasses up. "Go back to work."

"People will think I'm a bad mum." she blinked sadly, all thoughts of Hermione's drama gone from her mind.

"People can fuck off." Harry wrapped his arms around his wife, who had been driving him mental for months and smiled. He loved her.

"So, how do you feel?" Ginny pushed him back and looked up. "Knowing Hermione is banging the king of Slytherin?"

Harry gagged as a little bit of sick flew up to his windpipe "Nope." he shook his head. "Don't want to think about it."

"well, she's enjoying herself, so It's best we just support her." Ginny patted her husband on the arm.

"I can't believe you knew, and you didn't tell me!" He bumped her hip as he moved to the fridge.

"I can't believe you're allowed to investigate crimes." she snorted in response, squeezing James' cheeks and making his mouth pucker.

"mean." Harry scolded as he folded a piece of ham into a slice of bread. "You're a very mean woman Mrs Potter."

"20 points from Gryffindor Mr Potter." Ginny trilled in a Scottish accent. It was a known fact that Ginny Weasley cum Potter did the best Minerva McGonagall impression in the world. Even the old headmistress got teary-eyed laughing at it. She could morph her face and set of shoulders along with the voice, conjuring the powerful witch almost in spirit. Of course, Ginny, who would never not be a Weasley, used this power for evil.

"no." He pointed at her with the haphazard sandwich.

"Mr Potter, do you know what happens to boys caught out of bed after hours?" The transfiguration professor's voice flew from Ginny's body, forcing Harry to recoil from her.

"I told you I don't like it when you do that, Ginny." He whined, running away from her round the kitchen table.

"Would you like some extra credit Mr Potter." she lunged across the table and grabbed him by the collar, sliding herself across the counter to kiss him.

"Stop doing the voice, Gin." He commanded softly against her lips, "It's very confusing."

"Skive off the rest of the day, and I'll give you a months reprieve from Minerva." Ginny offered, "Say you're traumatised by the victimisation of your friend."

"that's cold, Ginny." Harry scolded but pressed a lingering kiss against her lips as he dragged her to the edge of the scrubbed family table.

"But I'm hot." She mouthed, wrapping her arms and legs around her husband, he groaned, and James let out a happy scream. Harry and Ginny instantly snapped their necks towards their infant son.

"I forgot he was there." Harry disengaged from his wife.

"See! I told you, he's weirdly quiet!"

"Relax," Draco ordered as he drew her hair over the edge of the bath.

"It's a bit difficult, Malfoy," She tutted, drawing her shoulders to her ears then letting them drop when she realised the motion was pulling her breasts above the suds. "I've never been bathed before… as an adult."

"Then you haven't been treated right," he said absently, flicking the cap off a bottle and sniffing the contents to check it was her usual shampoo. He knew it well. She'd used it since school.

"It's just a bit awkward." She hummed as he let his fingers rub the familiar formula into her scalp.

He laughed. "Granger, I have been inside you, and apart from that forbidden hole, I've been all over you!" he continued to lather her hair as if he hadn't said something bizarre.

"Are you talking about my… arse?" Hermione craned to look at him. Was he really suggesting butt stuff at a vulnerable time like this?

"NO!" his fingers stilled. "Your mouth! Your no kissing rule!" his voice grew in pitch as he replayed what he'd said. He'd called her mouth a forbidden hole… this is why we practice.

Her shoulders were shaking. "It really sounded like you were talking about my butt Malfoy!" she laughed, relaxing a little into his touch.

"well… I wasn't." he cleared his throat. "How is it possible that you're more relaxed now that I've made it additionally awkward."

She shook her head with mirth. "I don't know, maybe when it's not just me being the weirdo, I feel better."

"Well, I'm always happy to be your companion weirdo then, Hermione." he grinned, returning to the task of cleaning her hair. He poured mild water from his wand and rinsed the soap and bird poop from her mane, diligently getting between each curl to ensure its continued success. He decided to er on the side of caution and double down on shampoo, adding more to his hand, massaging it into her scalp and through her precious locks. "I love your hair," he mumbled as he ran fingers through the curls, detangling them as he went.

"I've heard evidence to the contrary." Hermione tutted, pushing the thick layer of suds about with her hands.

"nothing but false testimony, your honour." he chipped with an apologetic smile down at her. "The ramblings of a deluded madman, I suspect."

"I like your hair too." she reached up with one arm and brushed at his forehead with a soapy finger, leaving a trail of bubbles. "Sorry." she made to retract her hand, but he grabbed it and kissed her knuckles.

"You never have to apologise for complimenting me, Granger, never."

She laughed as he dropped her hand back to the bathwater and returned to her hair. "We are bird shit free." he declared after another close inspection, grabbing conditioner and finishing off what was arguably an expert wash. The basin he'd transfigured out of towels sloshed at his feet, full of murky water. A quick banishing spell sent the lot to whatever realm banished things went. "right, let's get the face cleaned and healed." he knelt at the side of the tub and picked up a flannel, dipping it below the waterline, coming dangerously close to her stomach. He gently wiped at her face. She stared at him with wonder, all intents to fight against his careful ministrations gone. It was delightful being the one taken care of for a change.

"does it look bad?" She winced as he passed over the gash.

"Nothing a little magic won't heal," he tapped his wand to her face in the demonstration. "Unless you'd prefer to have a scar? I hear your lot love them." He smirked and didn't wait for her response, healing her in a flash. He placed his wand on the floor again, picking up the flannel and wiping it across her neck, her shoulders, the very start of her cleavage, and when she was breathy and full of anticipation, he smiled and dropped the cloth into the water with a plop. "All clean." He declared with a clap of his hands and hopped back up.

"Oh." she was taken aback. "Good." She finally concluded when an awkward silence fell.

He closed his eyes and held out a large, pink fluffy towel with both hands. He Heard the slosh of water as she stood and took a step forward. He felt the towel being dragged from his fingers, and he counted to three before opening his eyes to catch her tucking one end of the towel into the other, still standing in the tab. Before she could step out, he'd cradled her in his arms again, swooping her into his embrace. Her head was level with his, one of his strong arms wrapped around the middle of her back while the other slipped beneath her bare legs, in the nook of her knee. She wanted to kiss him, and he was so close.

Draco turned to look at her. His nose brushed hers. "Where's your bedroom?"

"the last door on the right." she barely whispered as she wrapped her wet arms around his shoulders. "Am I just not going to walk again?" She muttered and elicited a smile from him.

"not if you don't want to, Granger." it had come out a lot more dirty than he'd meant.

She blushed and bit her lip, her stomach jolting when his grip on her tightened.

They entered her bedroom, her inner sanctum, and he placed her at the edge of the wooden sleigh bed she'd splurged on five years before. He stood in front of her. She was eye-height with his chest, his buttons teasing her. Just as she made up her mind to reach up, he turned from her and eyed her dresser. "Top drawer underwear, second drawer pyjamas?" he wondered out loud as he approached said drawers.

"How could you know that." Hermione clutched the towel to herself, cold biting into her wet body.

"it's how I do mine too." He explained as he rummaged through her clothes. Hermione felt the tug of something deep and heavy in her core as he turned back to her with her comfiest clothes. "Let's get you dried."

or I could just stay wet. Hermione swallowed, her head abuzz with this torturous emotional edging.