Harry watched as Gin cut the carrots with a knife. The crack of the blade on the wooden cutting board sounded like a metronome gone mad. Their airy kitchen seemed dark and dreary again. Memories of Sirius perched on the counter drowning in a bottle flitted through his mind. It was awkward and disturbing. Gin just kept at it.
"You want me to pretend this is okay?" A piece of carrot went flying as she snapped the knife down. "Maybe Ron wasn't perfect, but taking up with a Malfoy..."
"If he treats her with kindness and affection, I don't give a bloody damn what his last name is." Harry glared at the carrot piece on the floor. "Ron broke something in her. The bloody war did less damage than he did."
"You think Malfoy is good for her? Have your brains finally begged off then?" Gin shook her head and set her curtain of red hair to waving. "He tormented her for years. He watched his aunt torture her. Those aren't things you just put behind you."
"I'm going to give him a chance. Hermione thinks he's worth it." Harry took a deep breath and looked up at his wife. "When has she ever been wrong?"
"Apparently, when she married my brother." Gin snarled and turned to face him. "He thinks she'll come to her senses. It's going to rip him up to find out she's with Malfoy."
"He hasn't returned her property, Gin. He locked her out of their vaults. What would you do to me if I had done the same to you?" Harry shifted on the wooden chair and fought the urge to stand. "I know he's family, but so is she."
"Not anymore." Gin slapped the knife down on the counter. "She dragged us through the courts for her bloody freedom. She wanted out. Let her stay there."
"She's my sister, Gin. You might think of that." Harry stood and stalked toward the door. "She has never failed me, and I'm going to be the brother she deserves."
"She's not blood. Pretend all you want, but Ron is my brother. My real brother. How can you ask me to ignore his pain?" Gin stepped toward him. "She left him."
"She was dying inside, Gin." Harry sighed. "I don't know if she even knows about the other women."
"Other women?" His wife paled making the freckles on her skin seem darker.
"Muggles. He obliviated them. He isn't good at it." Harry shook his head. "They had to be brought in to Mungo's for treatment. It's how I discovered it. The healers contacted me."
"He was cheating?" Gin took a deep breath. The air around her crackled with magical energy, so he grabbed her and wisked them off to his study. She shoved him away from her. "That's not Ron."
"We all deal with our issues differently, Gin." Harry sat down on the dark brown leather of the chesterfield couch. "Ron always pretended he was fine, but none of us were. Hermione had to drag me to the doctor, but I'm glad she did."
"I went, too." Ginny plopped down next to him and the couch bounced beneath him. "She talked me into it using George as an excuse. She told me he wouldn't feel bad if we were all going, but it helped me so much. I was so angry about the diary and the war and Fred."
"I know." Harry grabbed her hand and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. "Hermione talked Kingsley into requiring the death eaters that managed to earn parole to go. They went to a different doctor than we did, but they all went."
"So, the Malfoys all went?" His wife chewed on her lower lip. "But my stupid brother didn't."
"He isn't stupid, just hurting." Harry slumped back against the arm of the couch. "He seems happier now, but he shouldn't keep her things. It's wrong."
"He really does think she'll come back." Gin sighed. "He and Mum both. They think she's going to come to her senses."
"I'm going to have a talk with him." Harry pushed forward and stood up. "Hermione is going to tell the kids soon. He shouldn't hear it from them, and I don't trust his temper if she tells him."
"I'll tell Mum." Ginny held her hand out to him. "I might be able to keep her to one howler."
"We'll go tomorrow." Harry pulled his wife into his arms. He hoped Ron wouldn't make this into a nightmare, but he didn't much like the chances of it.
Draco looked around the small cottage and frowned. His own divorce had been bitter, but he'd made sure Astoria would never want for anything. His son's mother deserved that at the very least. Weasley had stripped Hermione of almost all their accumulated wealth.
He frowned. The laws allowed this. The inherent pureblood bias had not been eliminated. Hermione had chosen to leave a pureblood husband. It was unimaginable in wizarding society. There was a price to be paid for any perceived defiance. He didn't agree with it, but he knew the old guard would punish anyone eschewing their values. It was their way. The only way in their opinions.
"Where are your books?" Draco ran a finger along the plane of an empty shelf.
"Ron has them in the vault. My mother's jewelry, too." He saw the slight drop to her shoulders. "They are considered valuable goods that should be inherited by my children."
He nodded. He had required Astoria to return the Malfoy family jewels, but she kept the Greengrass pieces. The law held that Hermione's family goods were vulnerable without a pureblood family to protect them. Weasley used his status against her at every turn.
"Do you have pictures of your parents?" Draco smiled for a moment until he saw the tears brimming in her eyes.
"My photo albums are with my books." She shook her head and turned away. He could see her fighting not to break. "My father said there were things in life that had a price. I didn't realize how often I would have to pay for my freedom."
Draco gathered her into his arms and whispered soothing bits of nonsense into her ear. His desire to avenge her would have to wait.
She settled against him and cried herself to sleep. He examined the empty bookcases from his place beneath her sprawled form and considered his options. She needed a pureblood family to support her, but it couldn't be his. It would look self serving when he eventually convinced her to marry him. Potter was tied to the Weasleys, and he wasn't raised in their world. He probably didn't realize he could have helped her.
There was Longbottom, but the family issues would be immense. Nott would do it for him, but it would be awkward as they shared nothing. Zabini actually admired her and his mother was a fierce defender of her family. It could work. He wanted someone that loved her as family. She deserved that.
A sudden image of Luna Lovegood danced through his mind. She and Hermione were friends. They had both forgiven him his past. Lovegood was smart and she knew the social rules and the laws despite her disregard of them. She wouldn't make it easy for him, and she truly needed family to ground her.
He stroked a hand down Hermione's back. Even if he failed to talk her round to trying marriage again, Luna would help her. He took a deep breath and let his worry go. He had faith in the woman in his arms. When all others failed, Hermione found a way. She would find her way to happiness. He would make sure of that.
Luna Lovegood stared at the Malfoy matriarch and considered the changes in their world. Most of the older pureblood families said the right things, served on the right charities, and quietly continued acting as they always had. Fundamental changes had simply not happened.
Luna turned her eyes away from Narcissa Malfoy and watched a heliophyte twirl in the wash of light from the window.
The Malfoys were not allowed the luxury of pretense. It left them alienated from both sides. They had been forced to examine facts others ignored.
"She doesn't like asking for help." Luna sighed. "I assumed Harry would protect her, but that isn't their dynamic. I will offer her a place in my House as a full sister. If she accepts, I will set things right."
"She carries Draco's child." Narcissa took a deep breath and ran the tips of her fingers along the edge of the saucer.
"Lovegoods live up to the name." Luna grinned. "If she wants him in her life, I will not stand in her way. If he hurts her, they won't find the body. Your family has one last chance to prove itself true to mine."
Luna watched her words take root in the older witch's mind. Most people thought she was sweet and somewhat dotty. She preferred that. Beautiful, seemingly innocent things were often vicious. It was nature's way. She was convinced Narcissa would understand her position.
Hermione stared at Minerva McGonagall. The elderly witch wouldn't meet her eyes. Hermione clutched the arms of the chair she sat in.
"I have the right to see my children." Hermione repeated the words. "We share custody."
"The law says the pureblood parent must approve of visits on school grounds." The headmistress sighed. "Ronald Weasley has not approved this visit."
"I'm not asking to take them from the grounds, but I have news I wanted to share." Hermione dragged a deep breath in through her lips. "Could you supervise?"
It killed her to ask, but there was nothing else she could do. She needed to talk to her children. She watched as Minerva shook her head.
"You will need to talk to Mr. Weasley." The headmistress shook her head. Her sadness hung in the air. "My hands are tied."