Forgotten Not Forgiven

Authors Note: I love my beta Laurel, who is fabulous and kind (even when she's kicking my arse into gear)

Chapter 2 Just One More Time

Another day, another routine.

Harry sat at the kitchen island jabbing at his eggs while his wife scurried into the room as she tried to secure her earrings without snagging her flaming red hair. It was the same every morning; Harry would wake early, read The Prophet over tea and once finished he would go upstairs and wake Ginny before coming back down to make breakfast. He usually preferred to eat a hot meal at breakfast, but for his wife he only made cereal because she was always running late and rarely had the time for more than that; some mornings she would forego breakfast altogether and simply kiss Harry on the cheek before rushing out the door. It looked like it was going to be one of those mornings.

Dressed in a chocolate brown skirt suit and a flashy red blouse to match her hair color, Ginny looked ready for a fancy dinner more than a day at the office. When she grabbed her coat and scarf from the back of the chair in the entry hall it reminded Harry of the woman he’d seen the day before leaving the hotel. “Hey Gin?” he asked, setting aside his fork and plate. He wasn’t particularly hungry today for some reason.

“Yes, love?” she answered, though she didn’t give him her full attention as she slipped into her matching brown coat.

“Did you loan one of your scarves to Hermione?” he asked.

“I loan her lots of clothing, Harry,” she replied. “She never has any time to do shopping of her own.”

“But what about that green and navy scarf I got you, I thought it was your favorite, did you loan that one to her?” he prodded. Harry really wanted as much valid information as he could get for when he confronted Hermione about her affair.

But the question caused Ginny to pale and Harry narrowed her eyes. “Gin,” he began, his voice dropping into an accusatory octave. “Is there something you want to tell me about yesterday and that scarf?”

“I-I” she stammered. “ No, I mean… I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Harry.” She rubbed lightly at her nose –a clear indicator that she was lying to him- and tried to turn toward the door. “I’m going to be late, can we talk about this later?”

Harry’s hand was on her elbow within moments, keeping her from fleeing. “Tell me, Gin. I promise I won’t be mad. You two are so close it only makes sense.”

She leaned her head into Harry’s shoulder and sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I should have told you ages ago.”

Slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst, Harry patted his wife on the back and whispered soothingly in her ear. “It’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t as if I asked you about it directly, and it was probably best I didn’t know.”

She looked up at him, tears spilling from her golden eyes and Harry dabbed at them lightly with the bottom of his tie. “So what now?” she asked meekly.

“Now I confront her about it. I can’t have one of my best friends cheating on her husband. That’s not how marriages work,” he informed her. “Hermione needs to stop before Ron finds out. It would kill him if he found out. I mean just think of what it would do to you if I slept around, or vice versa. Marriages don’t survive that kind of dishonesty.”

Ginny shuddered in his arms. “Oh, Harry,” she sobbed once more, burying her head against his neck.

“I know,” he sighed. “But I could never imagine you doing that to me. You and I are forever,” he whispered, even though sometimes he didn’t feel that way. She was still his wife and Harry didn’t believe in divorce; you worked through your problems unless the problems were bigger than the marriage, and so far Harry hadn’t come across any problem he couldn’t solve.

“I have to go, Harry,” Ginny told him. “Are you talking to her today?”

Harry nodded. “I’m going to take her to lunch I think. I’ll tell her then.”

“Could you not mention that I told you?” she asked, still wiping at her eyes. Harry hated to see his wife upset and he knew that Hermione’s friendship meant the world to her. It would be easy enough to confront her with the evidence he had without letting her know about Ginny’s admission. It only made sense that Hermione told Gin about her extracurricular activities. They told each other everything.

With a sigh Harry waved goodbye to his wife and went back to the kitchen to throw away his uneaten food before flooing to the Ministry to start yet another mundane workday.

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“It has to stop, it has to stop, it has to stop,” Ginny chastised herself during the entire three block journey to her office. Her whole body shook with the adrenaline of another near hit. Harry was catching on, and even though he had somehow spun himself in the wrong direction, at this rate there was no doubt he would catch her. Even this morning she almost blurted out a confession when she thought he was on to her. How he came up with the ludicrous idea that it was Hermione he saw in the street she had no idea, but at least it would buy her some time to get her act together. Harry wasn’t usually chatty with strangers but the only thing she could think of is that someone from the hotel staff told him the name she’d been giving since her afternoon trysts with Draco had begun.

She needed to floo Draco and tell him that it was over, then she would have to warn Hermione of what Harry suspected. Her friend was clueless to what she did in her off hours, so Ginny wasn’t worried that Hermione might let something slip, but she didn’t want her to be on the wrong end of Harry’s interrogation squad either.

As she opened the glass door to the building lobby Ginny had resolved to make herself the perfect wife that Harry deserved. She would do the right thing before she destroyed her husband.

“Welcome to the Quibbler, may I help- oh, Mrs. Potter, it’s you,” began the new receptionist at the office. “I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“It’s fine,” Ginny replied, and it was. She rarely came this way to get to her office, but she thought a walk to clear her head might do her some good that particular morning. “Do I have any messages?” she asked.

The secretary offered her a pile of notes, each a different garish color and smiled sweetly. The girl was young, but then they all seemed to be getting younger these days while, Ginny merely felt like she got old and boring. The only excitement in her life was her steamy trysts with Galleonaire Draco Malfoy. She sighed and flipped through the messages on her way to her desk and stopped mid-stride when she spotted a name scribbled on a violet parchment; ‘Draco Malfoy’. The name burned into her retinas and caused her breathing to hitch. He always did that to her and just the sight of his name made her legs go wobbly. It wasn’t the first time he had contacted her at the office –at least not through proper channels- but it was the first time he had done so since they started sleeping together.

She remembered well her dismay at being assigned to interview the man she now called ‘lover’. It was early on in her career at the Quibbler, long before her promotion to Associate Editor and back when she was still just a rookie journalist. She had no clout to be able to refuse the interview so she went, dressed as nicely as she could so that he wouldn’t be able to poke fun at her wealth, or lack thereof. She had met him in the lounge of a nightclub that he had owned at the time and she still remembered the look on his face when he first laid eyes on her.

Draco had leered at her, ogling her long legs, then her trim waist and finally her pale cleavage before making it up to her face, or more importantly her hair. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Weasel-ette,” he mused and took a seat across from her.

Ginny had rolled her eyes and taken a seat as well. “Ginny,” she corrected, but he only shook his head.

“No, Ginny is a nickname, and if you refuse my nickname for you then I’ll refuse yours,” he responded lightly, his trademark smirk in place.

“Then feel free to call me Mrs. Potter,” she countered with her own smirk.

“Touché,” he chuckled. “But no, I think I’ll call you Ginevra.”

She had always hated that name, but she refused to give him that kind of fuel against her so she simply nodded politely and took out her notepad. “So, rumor has it you called off your engagement to Astoria Greengrass,” she had begun. “Any truth to those rumors?”

“Why, fancy a quick shag in the restroom?” he asked and she blushed furiously before holding her left hand aloft and wiggling her ring finger, which held a large sparkling diamond.

“Married, remember?” she noted.

“So,” Draco scoffed. “Half the women I’ve bedded were married.”

“Then maybe I should add that I’m happily married, and for the record that’s disgusting,” she added with a frown.

“For the record, I don’t care. I’m not the one cheating and who knows, perhaps one day when little Potter fails to please, you just might end up in my bed as well,” he replied. “I wouldn’t turn you away.”

“How romantic,” she mused sarcastically, but couldn’t hide the blush coloring her cheeks. Malfoy was even better looking than he had been at Hogwarts and that was saying something. Even though nothing would ever come of it, she reasoned that there was no harm in a handsome man finding her attractive. “So, I assume since you’re still sewing your seed elsewhere that the engagement is, in fact, broken.”

“Yes,” he had replied at last. “She caught me in bed with someone else and pitched quite the tantrum.”

“I would do the same if I ever caught Harry with someone else,” she huffed.

“Then make sure never to go home or pop by his office unexpectedly, sweetheart,” he teased.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she hissed.

“Your husband has suitors for miles. There is no way he’s turning all of that down, a man has needs after all,” Draco replied.

“You’re foul. Harry’s an honest man, he would never cheat on me,” she huffed.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he muttered with a wave.

“This interview is over,” she growled and got up to leave, but Malfoy had grabbed her by the waist and spun her to face him.

“You’ll never get anywhere in this business without thicker skin,” he whispered. “Sit down, finish the interview.”

Her mind had screamed at her to get the hell out of there, but she knew he was right, and it certainly didn’t hurt that his eyes had looked like stunning pools of liquid silver. “Fine,” she huffed and went back to her seat. “So if Astoria wasn’t the one, who is?”

“What, you mean my ideal match?” Draco asked; he smiled crookedly. “Well, they would have to be independently wealthy. I don’t want a relationship with anyone who is in it for the money. Good looking, is also a must have,” he started.

“So they’re not allowed to be shallow, but you are?” she quipped.

“I’m in the public eye a lot, Ginevra. I need someone who can hold their own at my side, someone who will look equally dashing in the hundreds of pictures they snap of me and, of course, someone who looks fantastic naked,” he added. “Besides, this is my fantasy, you don’t get to judge.”

“Fine, fine,” she laughed and waved for him to continue.

“They have to be romantic, but not too sappy. They have to be nice, but also know when not to be. They have to be funny and clever and well, I suppose they just have to be perfect,” Draco huffed. “I’m a tough sell.”

“So I see,” she noted. “Well, so far it seems the person best suited for you is my husband,” she added with a laugh. “But I’m afraid he’s off limits.”

“No one is off limits to me, love, but no, I don’t think Potter and I would be suitable companions,” he remarked levelly.

“Because you’re straight,” she teased and he smiled slightly.

“There is that theory, also the fact that he’s more popular than I am. I couldn’t have that,” he teased. The rest of the interview had actually gone surprisingly well. Malfoy had taunted and jabbed, but he’d stopped with the cruelty and it had reminded her of the rapport she had with her family, the twins especially. Because of this, she wasn’t as taken aback by Draco’s next comment, as she probably should have been. “I’m having and party this weekend, you and Potter should come,” he offered.

“Harry’s not much for crowds,” she rebuked.

“Tell him to get out and have some fun. We only live once after all. Plus it’s a charity event I hold every year, even Harry can’t say no to the needy,” he wagered.

“Harry could find a way to say no to anyone,” Ginny replied. “But if I can get him to agree then we’ll come,” she promised.

“Use your feminine whiles, Ginevra. You can do it,” he prompted with a wink and left the room. Ginny recalled how badly her heart was racing when he walked away and how much he had given her to think about. It had to have been a coincidence that Draco mentioned Harry cheating when she herself had been suspicious of that very thing for a few weeks already. He’d been distant and never seemed to want to be with her much anymore, in fact, she couldn’t remember the last time they had made love. But no matter what Malfoy said, she knew deep down that Harry remained faithful to her.

Still, what Malfoy said about a man having needs rankled her slightly. Was Harry having his needs taken care of elsewhere and, if so, with whom?

“Alright, Gin?” a dreamy voice asked, pulling her out of her memory. She looked over to see Luna peering at her curiously.

“I’m fine,” Ginny muttered.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been standing here in the middle of the hall for nearly twenty minutes now,” she replied.

Ginny blushed furiously and shrugged. “I got lost in thought I guess. Sorry.”

“There must be some Kleadhoopers roaming around here. I’ll call the exterminator at once. Those buggers are always causing people to lose focus,” Luna resolved and headed toward her own office.

“Right,” Ginny laughed to herself. “If only it was that simple.”

By the time she reached her office, the glaring purple note had taken over all conscious thought. It was best to simply get it out of the way, she supposed. She threw a handful of floo powder into her private fireplace and summoned up the Manor. A house elf answered but went to fetch Draco who arrived a few moments later looking dapper as always.

“Ginevra, you look lovely,” he announced. “May I come through, I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

She sighed and nodded, stepping back so that he could walk through the green flames. He dusted his shoulders off and sat down in the chair across from her desk. It was going to be much harder breaking things off with him while he was there in person.

“So, what did you need?” she asked, wanting to get that bit over with so she could move onto the breaking up.

“You and Potter,” he told her and she cringed. “You two were such a hit at last years fundraiser, I could really use that kind of publicity again,” he admitted.

“That might be awkward,” she muttered.

“Why?” he asked, looking sincerely curious.

“Well, you’re my lover and Harry’s my husband and well…” she paused, gesturing with her hands for him to get her point so that she didn’t have to say anything more.

Instead he narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer. “You told me Potter knew about our arrangement.”

“He does,” she lied, “but he doesn’t need his nose rubbed in it, now does he?” she remarked sharply. She had slept with Draco the first time out of despair and loneliness, but afterward Draco insisted that she tell Harry the truth. She assumed he didn’t want to make it on the Auror’s hit list, and she couldn’t really blame him. In the end she had been too much of a coward to tell Harry the truth so she lied to Draco instead, telling him that he’d been right and that Harry had a mistress as well and that all would be fine –and who knows, she may have even been right.

“Well, we don’t need to chat or anything, he could just make an appearance, have a few photos taken and be off,” Draco reasoned.

“Listen, Draco,” she began, and he took that moment to run the tip of his shoe up her stocking clad leg beneath the desk. Her eyes fluttered and she sighed at the touch, but quickly pushed her lust aside.

“We could go to the Manor for lunch and I could give you a brief tour,” he offered seductively, and she knew exactly what he meant by ‘tour’.

“I-I can’t,” she whispered.

“Come on, Ginevra,” he cooed. “How about your place then.”

“But Harry,” she started, gasping when Draco kicked his shoe off and slipped his foot between her thighs.

“Harry won’t need to know we were even there,” he told her.

“Fine,” she sighed, unable to resist him. “Meet me there at one. I’ll talk to Harry tonight about the fundraiser.”

“You’re a doll,” he complimented her and stood up. “I’ll see you at one.” He paused momentarily to put his shoe back on but was gone in a flash, having apparated right out of her office.

There was always tomorrow to break things off. One last fling wouldn’t hurt anyone.

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Authors Note: I'm sure you all hate ginny, but just think about who is propositioning her for a moment... lol. Still, poor Harry