Kissing A Fool

Okay, so this is my first ever posting. The lyrics are from “Kissing A Fool” by George Michael…I know it’s technically supposed to be sung by a man, but at my work we have a version that’s sung by a woman, and I got the idea in my head from that. The lyrics don’t *exactly* match the story, but whatever.

The lines with *’s around them are the lyrics.

Enjoy!

*You are far. When I could’ve been your star.*

No one ever thought I’d end up singing jazz in a nightclub. I’m the first to admit that the option never crossed my mind, either, until a few months ago. But things can change drastically in life, can’t they?

*You listened to people, who scared you to death, and from my heart.*

I always sing this song. True, it’s meant to be sung by a man, but it fits, and I like it. It used to be painful for me to sing, but now it’s sort of like a release. It’s my way of telling my story, night after night, and no one’s around to tell me they’ve heard enough. When I finish this song, they always want more. It might not be exactly how things happened, but it still gets my point across, and that’s what it’s meant to do.

*Strange that you were strong enough, to even make a start. But you’ll never find, piece of mind, ‘Til you listen to your heart.*

It’s funny…two years ago, I thought that my life was absolute perfection. After graduating from Hogwarts, I left the Burrow, much to mum’s sadness, and moved in with Harry. Shortly after that we were married. Sure, most people said I was too young to be married, but I didn’t think so. I mean, I’d been in love with Harry since I was ten, so it wasn’t exactly like I was rushing into anything. We had been dating since sometime in my sixth year. I was in fifth year when we first got together, and true, Harry broke it off when the war was drawing close. I didn’t see him much over my sixth year, for he was gone on the hunt for Horcruxes. But, when Voldemort was killed and the war was over, near the end of my sixth year, we resumed dating, and it was great. After I moved in with him, Harry asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We got married six months later, and life was perfect.

*People, you can never change the way they feel, better let them do just what they will*.

The only thing I suppose that was surprising in my life was that we became really good friends with Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson-turned-Malfoy. Sometime during the war, when I didn’t see Harry much, he and Draco had apparently resolved their differences and became close. It was weird to see them act like best friends, but we all got over it quickly enough, especially after Draco made an apology to all of us, Ron, Hermione, me, and even Fred and George, about the things he had done in his past. We all apologized in turn for treating him and his friends so badly, and we all moved on like adults should.

*For they will, if you let them, steal your heart from you. People will always make a lover feel a fool, but you knew I loved you.*

Turns out, me and Pansy had a lot in common. She had been basically in love with Draco since she met him when she was eleven, and they, too, had dated before the war and had resumed their relationship after it was over. It was funny, but we became good friends. Hermione, I think, was a bit jealous of our closeness, but it was…different, for her. She hadn’t lived like we had, admiring someone we thought we’d never have, and then having our dreams come true like we did. She and Ron hadn’t always been in love with each other, in fact she had found him rather annoying at first, and once she did fall for him, he had fallen for her, too. I didn’t mind, though. Hermione was still a close friend, and now I had Pansy, too, and our relationships were different, and I enjoyed having a variety in the kind of people I conversed with. And it wasn’t like Hermione didn’t get along with Pansy after awhile, too. In fact, sometimes the six of us would all get together for an evening, and it was on one of these occasions that everything came crashing down around me.

*Fooled me with the tears in your eyes, covered me with kisses and lies.*

It was a simple evening. The six of us had dinner at our place, and we had just finished up. Harry and Draco took everyone’s dishes into the kitchen. No one had realized they had been gone for quite some time, including me. I went to the kitchen to start the kettle, and I specifically remember laughing at something Ron said on my way. Our kitchen was closed off with a swinging door, and Harry had just fixed it, for it had been squeaking when you swung it open. I remember thinking that it was so nice to have it open silently as I slid it open, and that silence is what caused me to see what I did. It was a complete and total shock, and for a moment I thought I had to be dreaming. But reality fell hard, and I knew what I was seeing was true. Harry, my husband, my one and only, was pressed against the counter, held there by Draco’s body as they kissed passionately. And that was the word for it; passionately. I remember every detail, the way Harry’s right hand grasped Draco’s hair as his left was wrapped around the blond’s back, how Draco had one hand against Harry’s neck, the other on his waist, how their legs were pressed together, and how their mouths moved against one another’s, every so often a glimpse of entwined tongues showing as they both moaned softly through the kiss.
They didn’t hear me. I watched them for a bit, realizing with a dull sickness building within me that Harry had never, never kissed me like that, and I just didn’t know what to do. I could’ve screamed at them, let the whole house know and make them regret not being more careful, but I didn’t. I backed out of the kitchen, stood before the door for a moment, and then made sure I made enough noise that they would hear me. Sure enough, when I went into the kitchen again, they were broken apart, both looking slightly flushed. I couldn’t look at either of them, and I made tea quickly, getting out of the kitchen as fast as I could. I didn’t want to ruin the night, as dumb as it seemed, and I kept my cool until everyone had left. Draco and Pansy stayed later than Ron and Hermione did, and as soon as they left, Harry said he was tired and headed off to bed. It wasn’t something I had ever noticed before, but I’ve made the connection by now that Harry wouldn’t ever have sex with me after he had spent time with Draco.

*So goodbye, but please don’t take my heart.*

Once Harry was in bed, I went into the bathroom, silenced it, and cried for what seemed like hours. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t ignore what I had seen, pretend like nothing had happened—I was a Gryffindor through and through and I knew I needed to confront it. However, I didn’t want to lose Harry. I suppose I should’ve been angry, but I wasn’t. I was upset, but my concern of telling Harry what I had seen was solely that he would think I didn’t love him and would want him to leave. That wasn’t the case. I decided, when I had cried myself nearly to sleep sitting in the empty bathtub, that I would tell Harry that I knew, but that I would make it known that I still wanted our marriage to work.
When he woke up the next morning, I was waiting for him. I told him what I had seen, and I waited for his reaction. I had been prepared for denial, for apology, and for speechlessness, but what I hadn’t been prepared for was what Harry did.
“I’m sorry, Ginny,” my darling told me, “but I’m in love with him.”

*You are far. I’m never gonna be your star. I’ll pick up the pieces, and mend my heart. Maybe I’ll be strong enough, I don’t know where to start, but I’ll never find, piece of mind, while I listen to my heart.*

My life shattered completely at that moment. Harry didn’t try to hide it anymore. I think, now as I reflect, that he was relieved, that he was waiting for me to know so that he could stop pretending with me. He told me that it was Draco he wanted to be with, that he didn’t love me, that he never had. He left that day. I found out later that he and Draco had bought an apartment together to house their affair, and that’s where he went when he left me.

*People, you can never change the way they feel. Better let them do just what they will, for they well, if you let them, steal your heart. And people, will always make a lover feel a fool. But you knew I loved you, we could have shown them all*.

It was only a matter of days before Pansy called me crying, telling me that Draco had left her for someone else. Apparently, as I have learned over the time we have been apart, Harry and Draco had gotten together during the war. I learned most of this from Hermione, who always seemed to know everything, and apparently, according to her words which had come from the two themselves, they hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it just had. They had tried to fight their feelings for each other, but, in a time where it was looking like their futures may have been very short, they had realized it was stupid to ignore what they felt, and they had given in to what they wanted. They dated secretly until the final battle was over, and when it was done, Harry had only gotten back together with me because Draco was getting back with Pansy, and vice versa. Neither of them knew the other one wanted nothing more than to be together, for they had both been daft and thought their confessions of love had been a heat of the moment thing for the other.
Apparently they had tried to stay away from each other completely after the war, and when that didn’t work, they agreed to be friends. It wasn’t long, however, until they slipped and found themselves in each other’s arms, and that quickly turned into finding themselves in each other’s bed. They had been having the affair since before the two marriages, and all it took was my confession of seeing them together to destroy everything all of us had; to this day I wonder what it would’ve been like if I had just let it go without bringing it to anyone’s attention.

*But remember this, every other kiss, that you ever give, long as we both live.*

The divorce wasn’t drawn out, I saw no need for that. I wished every night that Harry would change his mind, but Draco was always at the hearings, and I saw the way the two looked at each other. It still hurts, even now, to know that he looked so much happier when he was just smiling at Draco that he did in even any of our wedding photos, the day that should be the happiest in your life. Of course, with that said, I’m sure Harry did feel like that the second time around. It was only a month after the two divorces were finalized that Harry showed up on my doorstep with a wedding invitation. I didn’t go, but rather stayed at home with Pansy, neither one of us caring that the other was crying all night long, watching the clock to gauge where about in the ceremony they were at, and crying more when we knew it was all said and done and that our two ex-husbands would be making their way to their honeymoon suite at any time.

*When you need the hand of another man, one you really can surrender with*,

The horrible thing is that I’m still in love with him. I try not to show it, to put on a happy face around my family, my friends, and even Harry himself, but it’s a shallow mask. And, if that wasn’t enough, I can’t even make myself put all the blame on Harry, either. He didn’t just walk out of my life and leave me hanging, no, he would never do that. He’s been helpful, and kind, and caring through it all, but sometimes I think that’s worse. I should be able to hate him after what he did to me, but I can’t, and he doesn’t even have the decency to be a bastard and make my life a living hell so that in the years to come I can look back on it all with loathing. Instead, I blame myself time and time again, and though I tell myself there was nothing I could do, I don’t believe it.
I went into a deep depression after he left. Can you blame me? My life had been completely ruined all because of a certain blond that had been an enemy to me for as long as I can remember and who now was, once again, a fiend in my eyes. And that’s where I discovered jazz. No one really knew it, but I loved to sing, and I started listening to music as I sipped wine night after night, brooding in self-pity. At some point I began to sing along with the music, and at some point after that, I came here to get out of the house…I’ve been back almost every night since.

*I will wait for you, like I always do. There’s something there, that can’t compare with any other.*

I wonder, as naïve as it may seem, if my dreams could possibly come true a second time. He’s here, I saw him when I first stepped out on stage. Near the back, sitting at a small table…alone. I’d know that blond hair anywhere by now, and it’s clear to me that Draco isn’t here. Could it be that Harry’s changed his mind? He’s smiling as he watches me, but I can’t read his eyes. I can’t deny it for one second; I want him to be here for me, for us. I want my old life back, as twisted as it now seems to have been. I want my old life back without the affair, without the secrets; without Draco being anything more than the arrogant ferret he once was.

*You are far. When I could’ve been your star, you listened to people, who scared you to death and from my heart. Strange that I was wrong enough, to think you loved me, too. I guess you were kissing a fool. You must have been kissing a fool.*

There’s applause, but I don’t hear it. He’s standing, and I make my way off the stage to see him as soon as I can. It’s been just about a year since the divorce was finalized now, ten months since the wedding. Harry looks gorgeous, as always, and I can’t help the hope that’s fluttering in my chest.
“You were great up there,” he says as he greets me, and I try to stay strong when all I really want is to melt into his arms like I used to be able to do.
“Why are you here?” I ask softly, trying to sound harsh and knowing that I fail at doing so.
“I have something to tell you,” he says, and my heart starts to race a little.
“Yes?” I ask, unable to draw this out any longer. When the moment arrives, you can’t see alternatives anymore. All I can think about is kissing those lips again, not like we used to, but like I saw that night. I want him, and I want him with passion, and I feel my heart swell as I await his claim.
“Draco and I are expecting,” he says, and as my heart shatters once more, I’m left breathless. It’s not the idea of them expecting that’s so shocking—while not overly common, wizard pregnancies aren’t unheard of—but the fact that they are is what’s heart-wrenching. I always wanted children, and Harry always said it wasn’t a good time. I had pressured him about it, and he had always refused. I always thought he just didn’t want a child, but now I realize that I was wrong about that, too.
“What an accident,” I mumble, trying to reassure myself that my marriage couldn’t have been that empty, that there was some time, some moment, in which Harry truly loved me like I loved him—no, like I love him.
“Ginny,” he says, and I have to close my eyes to bear it, “it wasn’t an accident.” I take a second to stop the tears from leaking from my eyes, and then I open them again and look at him. I can see the happiness there immediately, and he looks so beautiful like that. “We’re going to have a family, Ginny,” he says, and that happiness shines through in his words. He doesn’t know how I feel. I pretend like I’m happy for him, and he believes it. “I’m finally going to have everything I ever wanted. Everything’s perfect, and…I wanted to thank you.” My brow furrows in confusion, and I hope he’ll declare that he was happy with me, too, that our life together wasn’t so bad, and that, at the very least, I made it bearable for him to live like he did.
“For what?” I ask, and when he reaches a hand up to grasp mine, my heart flutters again.
“For giving me the chance to finally be truly happy,” he says, and I smile, feeling every last ounce of hope float away in the black river of the remnants of my heart.

Boy, what a fool am I.