Forgotten Not Forgiven

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her beta work on this chapter and for her quirky notes that always make me giggle. Now, what's all this about wanting Harry to stop being so frakin oblivious and for Ginny to have her downfall already? Ask and you shall receive (sometimes).

Chapter 6 Shit Plus Fan

Ginny reluctantly opened the door, stepping aside so that Draco could swagger into her foyer. She was grateful that Harry had chosen that Sunday afternoon to check in on Hermione and Ron or else Merlin only know what the blond would say in her husband’s presence. Draco had grown increasingly bold and volatile over the last few months and she was beginning to suspect he craved something more than their current affair.

Her lover didn’t speak as he strode quickly to the living room and sank elegantly into a side chair by the fireplace. “I assume by your calm demeanor that Potter’s not here?” he said at last, still not looking up at her but instead eyeing a portrait of Harry and Teddy on the mantle.

“No. He’s at Ron’s,” she confirmed. “You can speak freely.”

When Draco’s cold eyes met her own it made a shiver of fear run down her spine. In all the months of their meeting she had never seen him look at her that way. She had never before had reason to remember that Draco Malfoy was a dangerous man born and trained in the Dark Arts. “I would have spoken freely were he present or not,” he hissed. “In fact, I’m rather disappointed that he’s not around to hear what a lying minx he’s married to.”

Her jaw nearly hit the floor at his words, confirming aloud just what she had suspected; Draco now knew that she’d been lying to him and he was going to ruin her for it. “I- I didn’t lie,” she attempted, her words just made Draco stand, towering over her slight form as he pressed her shoulders roughly into the wall, making her gasp in both discomfort and arousal. Never had Draco been so forceful, so passionate with her. It was a side she wished she’d seen from the beginning.

“You told me that your husband knew about us,” he growled, “but it seems he’s been blissfully ignorant of the fact that I’ve been shagging his wife right under his nose.”

“He trusts me,” she corrected. “He’s not stupid, I’m just careful. I didn’t mean to lie, I just didn’t want to give either of you up,” she sobbed, letting her head fall forward in dismay.

Draco’s grip loosened and she looked up into his fiercely determined eyes. “Now you have to make a choice,” he insisted. “Leave Potter for me or I’ll tell him everything and you can lose us both.”

She gasped and shook her head. “No, no you can’t tell him. He’ll be devastated.”

“Then leave him,” Draco ordered, hovering just over her lips. “Choose me and you can spare Potter’s grief at knowing his wife has been unfaithful to him for months.”

“How would my leaving him for you make him feel any different?” she asked, pleading that he understand she was incapable of breaking Harry’s heart.

“You haven’t slept together in more than a year, unless you lied to me about that as well,” he growled, his anger and grip strengthening once more. His jealousy made her swoon, but she shook her head fiercely.

“Harry told you himself,” she reminded him and he calmed once more.

“You can site your lack of connection for the reason for asking for a divorce,” he suggested. “It will pain him less that way. Even he admitted that things were shaky between you.”

“He’ll never agree. He’ll want to go to counseling, anything to work things out. Harry’s not a quitter,” she replied honestly.

Draco seemed to think on this and let her go, staring blindly passed her as she rubbed her aching arms where his hands had been. “I suggest you make him agree,” he hissed at last, glaring down at her. “Otherwise you’ll lose everything.”

With that threat he stormed out of her home, leaving her mind reeling as to what she could possibly say or do to fix everything and keep them both. If only she had a Time Turner she could go back and make sure Harry never went to that fundraiser.

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Harry rang the bell at Hermione and Ron’s cottage once more. He’d already rung it nearly a dozen times but no one came to the door. Normally he would just assume that there was no one home, but he’d already heard noises inside and seen Ron come to the window only to walk away again.

With a heavy sigh he knocked persistently with his fist until it hurt before letting his forehead fall to the red doorframe in defeat. He wanted to try and make amends with his best friends; he would do anything within his power to help them through what was obviously a rough time.

He didn’t notice the door being opened until he looked up to see Hermione’s face staring back at him. Her face was pink as if she’d been arguing and losing. “Mione,” Harry whispered, planting himself firmly before her. “I’m sorry.”

“Well you should be, Harry James Potter,” she snapped, but she didn’t look terribly angry with him. “You’ve sent Ron on quite the tangent and he’s not too pleased with you at the moment.”

“Me?” Harry asked, thoroughly confused. Sure, he assumed the man would be angry about the way he had broken the news, but he thought the pair would have a lot more to worry about than that, like Hermione’s infidelity.

“Yes, You,” she griped. “He’s angry that his best friend tried to instigate problems in our marriage instead of congratulating us on our pregnancy.”

“I did congratulate you… sort of,” Harry muttered. “I really am thrilled for you both, but he had to know what was going on behind his back,” he added firmly.

Hermione sighed and leaned against the door, still not inviting Harry in. “It’s your back I’m worried about, Harry. I have never cheated on Ron in all the years we’ve been together. I tried to explain that to you last week but you wouldn’t listen.”

“But, Mione I saw you,” he whined, not wanting to continue this fight. They couldn’t work past it and move on if Hermione continued to deny what he knew to be true.

“You think you saw me. You saw a woman dressed in your wife’s clothing who gave my name to a bartender,” she replied firmly. “Who do you really think it was?”

A shiver ran down Harry’s spine at her words. He had originally thought it was Ginny, swore it was her, but the name was what threw him. Why would Ginny give your name to some random bartender?” he asked carefully, not sure he believed Hermione’s story but it wasn’t as if his best friend made a habit of lying to him.

“Maybe because she didn’t want her Auror husband catching her?” Hermione suggested wisely.

Harry sighed and shook his head. “I just can’t believe she would do such a thing.”

“Maybe you should ask her about it,” Hermione offered. “But for now, Ron needs time to get past what he sees as a betrayal of your friendship.”

“I only ever want what’s best for you both,” Harry whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I know, and he’ll see that eventually, too. Just give him a couple days, okay?” she requested, squeezing his hand. He nodded and she smiled weakly at him before closing the door. With heavy steps, Harry left his friends’ doorway, not liking the revelation that Hermione had placed upon his shoulders.

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Leverage. That’s what Draco realized he’d been missing all along. He thought he’d had it, that the sheer impact of himself on Ginevra’s life would be enough to make her leave Potter, thus leaving Potter free and single for himself, but he’d been wrong on so many counts. All this time he had been focusing all his energy and scheming on the woman, when he should have been focusing on Harry.

His assumption that Harry would never quit his marriage unless given a good reason was valid, of course, even Ginevra had admitted as much. But there had to be a way to make him see that reason, because clearly his wife wasn’t trustworthy enough to tell him about her affair, and as Draco saw it, the affair was all hers. He was only sleeping with her to get to Harry, while she was sleeping with him to get away from Harry. It all made perfect sense in his own brand of twisted logic.

Still, making Harry see what was plainly in front of him was turning out to take more effort than a simple anonymous tip to be in a certain place at a certain time. He couldn’t fathom how Harry hadn’t seen his wife leave the hotel in that garish scarf until the fundraiser where he said he’d mistaken her for Hermione. It was really quite fascinating really; the lengths Harry’s mind would go to in order to protect him from the truth.

As Draco closed the lid on the gold box in front of him, he held hope that this new message would reach Harry’s ears this time and that finally he would see what was right under his nose all along. Draco certainly couldn’t count on Ginevra to end things, even after his ultimatum earlier that day. She’d most likely turn coward and attempt something stupid, so Draco knew he had to take matters into his own hands and make Harry see the truth.

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Silence at breakfast was typical in the Potter home, but it was more awkward than normal on Monday morning. Harry pushed his eggs around his plate, unable to find the Gryffindor courage to ask his wife if she’d been unfaithful to him; to be honest, he was afraid of the answer. He knew that if she had it would be at least partially his own fault since he hadn’t considered her needs recently. Still, it wasn’t as if his own needs were being met and he had never shagged anyone else.

Ginny sat across from him nibbling anxiously on a slice of dry toast, how she could eat such bland food he never knew; give him butter and jam over plain toast any day. “Harry,” she spoke at last, he voice wavering slightly. “I want to sit down and have a talk tonight. I have something I need to tell you.”

“You do?” Harry asked, wondering if Hermione had gotten to her already, perhaps nudged her to confess her sins. Harry took a deep breath and nodded. If she had been unfaithful and was willing to admit her mistakes, they could still work on their marriage and set things right. He was sure of it.

“I’ll be home by five,” she told him. “Can you do the same?”

“I’ll find a way,” he promised, thankful that he would be given an explanation to the whirring questions in his mind. They were strong people, he and Ginny, they could work through anything.

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Ginny got up and rinsed her plate before putting it away. Her heart raced at the thought of what she would have to do tonight, she felt she had no other options though. She had been a lying cheat and she knew she deserved whatever punishment she received. Tonight after work she would tell Harry everything and let him decide if they could remain friends. Either way, she wanted Draco and she was going to make that clear to her husband that night. Draco was fiery and alive and that was what she craved in her life, not the daily droll she had with Harry.

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“Ron, I’m sorry,” Harry pleaded, leaning into his cubicle entrance. Ron had come in late that day, just before lunchtime and Harry had been waiting impatiently for the chance to speak with him.

“Not now, Harry,” Ron muttered. “Not now.”

Harry sighed and wanted desperately to reach out and pull his friend into a hug, but he knew Ron would probably just slug him for it. “Just know that I didn’t mean to cause trouble and I really just wanted to warn you. I care about you, Ron, and I would do anything to protect you, even if it meant ratting out another friend.”

Ron didn’t answer, so Harry slipped away. He had said his piece; there wasn’t much else he could do until Ron was ready to listen so he made his way to his own office.

Harry was surprised when he entered his cubicle; there on his desk was a shiny gold box with his name on it and he began to wonder if Ginny had sent him a gift of some kind. It didn’t say who it was from, but Harry slid the lid off and gazed down at the lacy black bra inside, the very familiar lacy black bra. A simple note was tucked into the folds of the tissue wrapped around the lingerie that said simply ‘Your wife left this at the Baglioni Hotel’ in a clean black script.

Harry began to hyperventilate. The theory of his wife sleeping around on him was one thing, the reality of it was another thing altogether. Who was she shagging? How long? Why would she betray him this way? His mind filled with questions that he needed the answers to, but first he needed to make certain this was Ginny’s. He could pop into the house and search their dresser and hopefully he would find this bra, hopefully someone was just trying to play a cruel prank on him.

He discarded the box and left his office, drawing Ron’s attention as he did. He wondered briefly if the gold box had been his friend’s work, but shook the idea from his mind. It didn’t matter who sent it, not yet anyway.

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Ginny’s gut twisted as she Flooed into her home for lunch. Today would be the last day she cheated on Harry because tonight she would tell him everything. She was both nervous and excited to be starting a real relationship with Draco. He really was the perfect companion: handsome, clever and a skilled lover. In fact, she didn’t know what was keeping her from leaving Harry for him from the very start.

She sighed, knowing exactly why. Harry was also the perfect companion: kind, courageous and willing to take the very shirt from his back to help someone else. Harry didn’t deserve any of this, but what was done was done. She couldn’t take it back but she could make it right. Harry deserved to be happy and maybe she just wasn’t that person for him. There was obviously a reason they hadn’t made love in more than a year and it had little to do with the fact that Ginny was finding it elsewhere lately. They just weren’t compatible in bed; they never had been really.

When she heard the Floo flare to life once more she ran to the living room and into Draco’s reluctant arms. “Have you told him?” Draco asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Not yet,” she admitted, “but I’m telling him tonight.”

“Your letter said that all was taken care of,” Draco replied with an ominous hint to his voice.

“It is; it will be, I swear. I already told Harry that we have to talk tonight and I’m telling him everything before breaking things off,” she assured her lover and soon to be exclusive boyfriend. “I just thought we could have one last fling before I go through with this tonight. You know, something to remind me why I’m leaving Harry Potter?” she provoked. She knew her husband’s name was a sore spot with Draco; he always grew jealous when she mentioned it in any intimate way.

“I suppose if you’ve made up your mind to leave him, then a celebration is certainly in order,” he conceded, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her into the kitchen.

A silent spell had her clothing off so fast that she gasped before reaching out to grab Draco’s face, trying to pull him into a kiss. He pulled back and shook her off with a sharp look. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“I thought that now that we were exclusive that I could finally kiss you,” she grumbled, not liking the rejection one bit.

“We’re not,” he hissed. “Yet. You still have to keep up your end of the bargain.”

“You don’t trust that I’ll end things?” she whispered.

“You’ve lied to me before,” Draco snarled.

Ginny sunk to the table, her bare arse pressed against the edge. “I’m sorry, Draco,” she whispered.

Draco sighed and nodded, pulling her to his chest. “I know. I know you’re sorry for the trouble you’ve caused and I know that all will be right soon.”

She sagged into his embrace, moaning when he turned her around to face the breakfast table before forcing himself into her from behind.

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The minute Harry walked through his front door his ears were met with sounds that had not filled his bed in some time –at least not with him. His entire body shook with rage and nerves as he dreaded what he was about to walk in on. He almost turned around and left, not wanting to see with his own two eyes that he wife was a whore, but he was unable to redirect his determined feet.

When he rounded the corner of the kitchen he witnessed a sight he hadn’t been expecting. He had expected it to be bad, he knew his wife was in the kitchen shagging someone else, but he hadn’t expected the scenario in front of him. There, bent over the table where he had eaten breakfast only hours ago, was his wife being fucked by none other than Draco Malfoy.

“I eat my eggs there!” he shouted. It was the only thing he could think of in that moment, as he was not able to form enough articulate insults for the pair upon seeing the blond defiling his wife in his own home. He felt betrayed by them both; his wife and a man he considered a friend.

A hissed intake of breath met her ears as she saw Harry’s wide and angry gaze. “Harry,” she cried, trying to pry herself from her compromising position. Draco had already stepped away, keeping a safe distance from the livid Auror, and zipped his fly. He apparently had never even bothered undressing.

“Get out,” Harry told them, his voice a trembling whisper as his entire world was ripped out from under him.

“Harry, I can explain. This was what I wanted to talk to you about tonight,” she sobbed, falling, still naked, to her knees in front of where Harry stood looking disgusted.

“What? You planned to ask for my permission to fuck Malfoy on our dining room table?” he demanded. “Get out!”

“Harry, please,” she pleaded, trying to clutch onto her husband’s pant leg but he stepped out of her reach.

“Get the fuck out of this house, both of you!” he screamed, the veins in his neck throbbing as if they might explode. Ginny didn’t move though, she just sat there and cried unintelligible words of apology but Harry didn’t want to hear them, so he turned and left. His thoughts and breathing resumed when he made it into the fresh air outside his front door but he didn’t want to breathe and he certainly didn’t want to think about what had just happened to his marriage. He wanted to drown, so he marched to the nearest pub to help himself with that.

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Author's Note: So how is that for finding out? I'm so mean to my poor boys. What will Draco do now, or was this part of his plan all along?