TO MEND A BROKEN HEART
Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter. I don't mean to cause harm or confusion. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I gained no profits from this story. This is written purely for my own entertainment.
Warnings: Slash, M/M love. (DON'T LIKE DON'T READ)
AUTHOR NOTE :Please enjoy and leave reviews
CREDIT(BETA): Thank you Panic Lover01 and StarGazingAtMidnight.
CHAPTER 3
Harry folded his arms on his chest, staring aimlessly at the dark scenery outside, only slightly illuminated by the orange glow of the street light.
Exhaustion weighs on him from the process of moving into a new house since the crack of dawn, but somehow he can't quite unwind enough to fall asleep yet. Neville and Blaise had been helping him with everything and he is undoubtedly grateful for that, but he also undoubtedly knows that from now on, he will be going through everything alone… with James, and for him; he needs to be strong.
He hasn't heard anything from the other Weasleys yet. Honestly, he is quite disappointed that they are still backing Ginny up, especially since she had committed a grave mistake and they clearly know it. However, from what he has seen of how Ron, Hermione and the Twins reacted, he supposes that they didn't know anything about it. They'll come around and support his decision… he hopes anyway.
The raven-haired man silently approached his three year old son, sleeping serenely on his own new bed, and carefully sat beside him, gently placing his hand on his son's forehead. Withering snakes of worry twist in his stomach every time he thinks of how James is going to be affected. James hasn't been talking these days, he only nods or shakes his head to answer whatever questions that has been asked and his eyes seem…unresponsive.
Harry supposed it's just a normal reaction for children going through a turbulent time, and that it's just one of the ways they deal with their parents' divorce.
"I'm sorry buddy; I really hope you can forgive me for separating you from your mother." He murmured and softly kissed his only son's forehead, the only glimmer of light that gives him strength during this troubling time. Giving James a long, last look, Harry walked to the door and switched the light off, closing the door behind him.
In the dimness, the little three year old slowly opened his eyes and wiped his tears with his fluffy pyjama sleeve, trying not to cry out loud.
Harry exhaled loudly as he closed James's bedroom door and glanced around. He bought a perfectly normal house from a Muggle neighbourhood, liking it the instant he first saw.
Although it only has three rooms, and though it is significantly smaller in size compared to his previous house which he shared with Ginny, he still likes it.
It has basement, first and second floor. His and James's bedroom is situated on the second floor alongside with a guest room. Every room has a lavatory within, while the first floor has kitchen, a quite spacious living room and another washroom for their guest.
The basement Harry has furnished and changed it into his office where he will be when he needs to work alone.
Aimlessly strolling along the hall, Harry sighed and decided to go down and make himself a cup of coffee. He already to a certain extent addicted to coffee since he accepted the offer to become the captain for his a captain is not an easy task, sometimes he needs to do the job of Manager as well. Coffees just coincidently make him have a longer time to finishes his paperwork.
He banged his raven locks on the kitchen counter while waiting for the water heated. When his life did becomes so messed up? He had really thought that he could have his happily-ever-after as soon he defeated Voldemort. But he ended up in a destroyed marriage and now must raise his son single-handed.
'Should I just give Ginny a chance?'
Almost as soon as he thinks it he knows he cannot.
He can forgive her, but would never again start a romantic relationship with her. She can be the mother of his child, a friend and a family even, but not his wife.
Absently, he cannot help but think it is somewhat strange on how he can deal with the heartbreak as fast as this.
Now, he needs to figure out who will be taking care of James when he is outside working. Molly is out of questions, in fact, any Weasley is out of question. It's not that he hates them now; he will never hate them, because they were family after all. But he need space and time, it will be awkward if to engage any conversation with them when he has divorced their daughter or sister. No, it will not work. He needs another alternative. Neville and Blaise is impossible too since both them will be busy working.
Perhaps he should hire a babysitter? A butler or maid? And he really needs to cut down the amount of time he spends on his work. Harry made a mental note to tell his supervisor about that.
Harry's thoughts were disrupted when he heard noises from the fireplace.
"Who is that, at this time of night?" he murmured, staring at the fireplace suspiciously. The only people he gave his floo address are Neville, Blaise and-
"How have you been, Harry?"
The Boy Who Lived smiled as he heard the thick accented voice come through. Turning around and shrugging at the person, Harry pointed the stool beside him. Wordlessly, the other man walked to the stool and sat on it, bringing out a few bottles of Fire Whisky.
"Thanks mate, but I don't think I can't drink that much, I still need to watch my son tomorrow." Harry looks apologetically at the person beside him. "So, how's our team doing? You still can manage?" the Saviour asks again, accepting a bottle of Fire whisky handed by the other.
"Nothing much; they still survive."
"Thanks Vic, for helping." Harry looks at the best Seeker on the Quidditch World and gave him a little smile. The Bulgarian Seeker simply shrugged in return and, awkwardly, reached out to pat him the shoulder, prompting a deep chuckle from Harry.
At the early years when Harry decided to join in a Quidditch team, Wimbourne Wasps, he has been actively seeking potential teammates and Viktor Krum was one of them. After going through persuasions and negotiations, Viktor agreed to join the team, with condition that he will only play and will not have to deal with other management problems. After years of being teammates, Harry and Viktor Krum bonded with such strong friendship to the extent that Harry listed Viktor as one of James's guardian if anything were happened to him and Ginny. "
How did you know?" Harry simply sighed dully. When he applied for a few weeks day off, he didn't state any obvious reasons, just simply that he 'hasn't decided what to do with his life yet'.
"Daily Prophet."Viktor answered grimly, draining his first bottle and opening up another Fire whisky.
"Well, what did they say?" After dealing with the crazy media-especially Rita Skeeter-for a few years, how they actually obtain information doesn't seem to amaze Harry anymore. All he wanted to know is what did they actually wrote about it.
"Nothing interesting." Harry chuckled again as he heard Viktor two worded answer. He wondered where the enthusiastic, conversational Viktor Krum that Hermione once mentioned in their Hogwarts school years, is. Well, he does talk a lot more than that occasionally but comforting others is just not one of the Seeker's talents. Catching a tiny gold ball? Easy. Trying to console someone? Harder than taming a hungry hippogriff.
"There are more flowers in the vorld that you can pick." Harry snorted through his Fire Whisky, throwing his head back and laughing heartily at his best friend's comforting words.
"Do you van to talk about it?" The Bulgarian seeker asks, hesitating between his words with a touch of anxiety. He is not used to giving other people advice or any comforting words. He would definitely be happier if he can help Harry by hearing him shouting, screaming, or hitting him; anything that would help his friend cope.
"No." Harry took another bottle of Fire whisky and drained it without hesitation. Viktor nodded understandingly, breathing a sigh of relief inwardly.
For the longest time, the two men sat in comfortable silence, occasionally offering small talk until the break of day.
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