Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

WONKY CROSS	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 59358 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
A/N: Thanks for all the reads, rates and reviews! I love them!

And I lied, we don’t get to Romania until next chapter— a confrontation with Ginny pretty much took things over this time (and you know her, she always insists on things going her way or throws a tantrum if it doesn’t ;).

Hope you enjoy this next bit!

~O~

FOCUS, PART 2

To be honest, Harry and Charlie were both feeling a bit validated that Ginny looked just as discomfited by their sudden arrival as they did with being unexpectedly thrust into their first meeting since the Dissolution.

Suddenly her angst and guilt was palpable in the room-- cloying and stifling and sickly as her breathing sped up and she appeared rooted to the spot, unable to flee. The white-knuckle wringing of her hands made Harry’s initial flare of anger and resentment cool…. just a bit….

“Ah, erm,” she squeaked, “We didn’t know you were coming here….”

(There was a stifled squawk in the hallway and the sound of footsteps racing up the stairs— Ginny gave a furtive glance over her shoulder but the men decided to ignore the fact that they’d most likely once again frightened the redheaded girl’s lover into fleeing to the attic.)

Charlie got up and assisted Harry to his feet as well.

“We didn’t either,” the elder sibling stated flatly. “We only just barely escaped an attack in the Ministry. I figured this was as good a stronghold as the Castle and would satisfy our Mother’s requirement to see us before we left for the season,” he explained stiffly; the auburn-haired man barely resisted the urge to pet Harry, checking him over for injury and make sure he was all right after being mobbed in the Alley and the Wizarding government building.

“Attack?” Ginny asked weakly, and then registered the rest of her brother’s statement, “Wait, ‘left’? ‘We’? You two….” she asked choppily in a breathy voice, still trying to wrap her head around the sudden turn of events— the unanticipated arrival of a stand-offish ex-husband that hadn’t stepped foot inside this house or even spoken to since the “unpleasantness”, plus yet another brother who’d avoided her since Christmas Eve like the Dragon Pox plague of 1890.

(And the men standing in her living room-- both powerful physically and magically-- were radiating the same cold regard she found infused in every interaction from all family members since her indiscretions came to light.)

Charlie pursed his lips at his youngest sibling. “Yes. We are Summering at the Preserve.” He seemed uncharacteristically formal and eager to get the two of them away from his sister; in fact he started to herd Harry towards the kitchen with a beefy bicep curled around his shoulders in order to most expediently locate his Mum.

“Harry, wait!” she screeched, and winced when the desperate tone so was obvious. She lowered her voice to a more respectful tone, infusing it with a bit of submission, “Can we talk?”

She nervously watched, under a lowered brow, the silent exchange between her once-betrothed and her second oldest brother; the questioning look on her former spouse’s face, the answering thundering sapphire glare followed by a resigned shrug and rolled emerald eyes that was followed by a curt nod from the dragon-handler’s countenance did not go unnoticed. Why did “The Chosen One” need permission from a friend to talk to her?

She put it out of her rabidly ruminating mind and didn’t comment on how in tune with each other they must be for them to hold a silent—almost telepathic-- communication. She knew she’d lost any sort of dominion over being privy to Harry’s personal relationships long ago. And of course, she was too anxious for the discussion she’d long envisioned, and even longer put off (actually hoping to avoid the awkward apology forever).

After the boy she’d been infatuated and obsessed for over half her life gave her a cursory dip of his chin towards her in the affirmative, she led and they walked a-ways from the back door, settling onto the worn wooden bench that looked out over the yard. Neither could bring themselves to look at each other, but for very different reasons; Harry because he didn’t really care if he ever laid eyes on her again and her, drowning in anxiety and nerves.

Harry just waited through the uncomfortable silence, taking the time to calm down from the fright of facing the public, and frankly, he had nothing he wanted to say to her. After the time apart-- and especially after spending the past months so in love— he’d let her speak her piece, not care what she had to tell him and then happily go on his way and never look back…. starting with accompanying his lover to Romania.

Being with Charlie had imbued him with a confidence he’d never had before so felt he was ready to handle whatever she threw at him. He felt his lips melt into a small smile at the thought that he would follow that wonderful man anywhere, to the ends of the Earth and that he knew he would be home wherever that might be, as long as they were together. And the further away from his ex-wife the better.

“So…. erm,” she started shakily and then cleared her throat and then blurted, “I’m sorry!”

The air hung heavy after that admission and he could tell Ginny was getting more and more antsy as the silence stretched, if her fidgeting was anything to go by.

“Look at me!” she demanded in a desperate tone. “Say something…. Please!” she whined, sounding afraid. She went to reach for Harry’s hands but he flinched away out of range; he DID look at her then, slowly turning his head to face her straight on and fixed her with a dead stare. It was her turn to cringe back, realizing she’d overstepped her very tenuous welcome to a conversation with the boy she used to be able to order around with (more or less) impunity.

The brunet had to suppress a smirk when a small flesh-colored movement caught his eye behind her back, snaking its way from underneath the kitchen door.

She followed his sight-line, glancing around and only noticing Charlie’s scowling face, somewhat blurred by the glass of the window over the kitchen sink, obviously over-seeing the interaction of the once-couple. He highly doubted she noticed the Extendable Ear or else she would have raised an objection to it. “He’s awfully protective of you,” she fake-breezily commented, leaving it open-ended in a blatant attempt of getting more information.

“He cares about me,” the brunet stated flatly. He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t help but be pleased with the way his former wife blanched a bit at the passive-aggressive dig, knowing that she knew he was basically saying that she never had. The ruddy uneven blotches on her cheeks were just icing on the cake.

She twined her fingers a bit helplessly in her lap. “I’m sorry,” she tried again, this time actually sounding remorseful rather than angry that she had to make amends.

He wasn’t sure if it was for the benefit of her own conscience or for the sake of the entire family; either way, Harry figured, at least she was trying to broker some sort of peace so they could all live together without so much tension and opposing alliances and loyalties. The traditional Sunday Dinner had been mostly disbanded because of them since the Holidays (except for Bill, Fleur and Victoire— and Percy who was still trying to mend things with how bad a rift he’d caused through his previously misplaced zeal at the Ministry).

This type of schism wasn’t the ideal he willingly went to his death for after all. Still, the stoic brunet remained mute.

(Was it so wrong to make her twist in the wind a bit? He didn’t think he owed her instant forgiveness even though he wanted the Weasley clan to heal and get past it all. He also really didn’t feel like coming up with anything to say to her to make things easier for her— time and distance had thickened his skin against allowing her immediate appeasement. Plus, he also no longer felt obligated to simply knuckle-under just to avoid a row.)

Employing a trick he’d learned from Dumbledore, he held his tongue until she couldn’t stand the uncertainty of the myriad of his potential responses and started spilling her guts:

“I bollocksed it all up didn’t I?!” She dropped her face in her hands. “I KNOW I did, don’t answer that…. It’s just…. Nothing turned out the way it was supposed to!” she moaned pitifully, pulling on his natural instincts of sympathy. It made him willing to hear her out, at least.

(Had she learned her lesson? After all, HIS way of thinking had changed profoundly after just a few months….)

Harry twitched and raised an eyebrow. He’d just noticed that Molly’s face had joined her son’s in the four-sectioned pane of the kitchen window frame. He couldn’t help but feel amusement at that. Knowing how much she had professed to detest the surveillance devices in the past, she was now glued ear to ear-piece with Charlie, hanging on every word.

“For as long as I can remember, it was supposed to be you and me, madly in love,” Ginny began. “You’d win The War and then sweep me off my feet. We’d be treated like exalted Wizarding royalty! We’d travel, shop, dine-- have everyone want to be us…. I’d have everything that I’d ever wanted! Everything I never got!”

(Harry flashed back to the Yule Ball, where the third-year had gotten a brand new dress for the occasion while Ron had those hideous velvet and lace century-old robes. And the only reason his best mate had something nice to wear to Bill’s wedding was that he’d stipulated to the twins to buy him some decent dress robes if he gave them him his Tri-Wizard Tournament winnings— and yet she’d had a new gown for that as well.)

“Everyone would love us and be jealous,” she was going on. “I could shove it in all those faces that told me I wasn’t good enough because my family didn’t have money….”

Harry’s nose wrinkled at the immature tone her rant had taken on. Deep down he’d known it was true and those unrealistic childish expectations had been behind all her motivations.

But he supposed he’d held some naive beliefs as well when he was younger that he hadn’t wanted to face-- namely, that she’d truly loved him even though she had never known his real self at all…. Hearing her admit to such vapid and callow concerns rubbed him the wrong way though, and a rush of gratitude washed over him that he was not still stuck with her.

“But NOTHING was like I imagined! Voldemort was destroyed yet we were hiding out in this DUMP!”

(As she waved her hand indicating her humble home, Harry heard a dish sharply clatter on porcelain in the kitchen.)

“We were unable to go out in public and get our due— and you refused! You didn’t even WANT to!” she vented in frustration. “We got married and it didn’t get better. Yeah, I settled for a ‘safe’ wedding and honeymoon, but I could have got the same crappy, home-spun backyard ceremony if I’d married some bloke that never had two knuts to rub together!”

(Here Harry had to suppress a smile at what that last sounded like, now that he had certain parts of male anatomy on the brain more often than not; it helped him swallow down the bitterness he felt rise in his throat at her so-called apology that sounded more like accusation.)

She must have chanced a glance at his hard and set jaw.

The redheaded witch continued softly, “I could tell you didn’t really desire me or any of the same things. And the way you were dawdling over proposing…. You were just so fucking complacent, preferring to hide away and not take advantage of all that you had laying at your feet. I didn’t want to admit it then, but looking back, the expression of relief on your face when we didn’t end up having sex after the first few times should have said it all.”

The brunet didn’t have anything to say about that…. It was true. He just hadn’t known she’d realized it.

“I didn’t want to admit defeat,” Ginny pounded her fists on her knees. “I didn’t want anyone to know the marriage was failing, and so quickly. I didn’t want to give up on my life-long dream. So I took what I could of it, live whatever part of the lifestyle I could.”

The brunet quirked an eyebrow at that last confession. It was the most lucid and self-aware thing that he’d ever heard from her. He had wondered if she ever saw things so clearly as that.

“At first, the money made up for your lack of interest. To the outside world, we WERE the super-couple of the century. Then, the more I pushed the limits it became apparent that you didn’t CARE…. at all.”

Harry gulped a little guiltily. She was right about that too. He hadn’t. He nodded slightly in agreement as she pushed forward.

“I think that’s what hurt the most. It was humiliating that you obviously preferred to be with friends and away from me. You just weren’t that into me— not even enough to call me out on my lavish spending. You paid me no attention and I resented that you ignored such huge problems— I was just so angry and it was all falling apart around me! I was trying to fill a hole that was so empty….”

(Harry snorted mirthlessly at the double entendre that flitted across his mind.)

“You could have tried….” She whined miserably. “I made an effort! I arranged everything for us to go to the Halloween Gala together and you turned me down! I--”

Harry had to cut in there, starting to get rather irritated instead of glad that she was finally being honest with him and herself. “I told you I didn’t want to go.”

“But I did! I was your wife and you should try and do things to make me happy!” she volleyed back.

He supposed he could have put more work in on the little things, but the incident she was scolding him over was a major sore spot for him and deeply emotional. In a low growl, he queried, “Do you recall the reason I didn’t want to go and be put on public display?” At her uncomprehending stare, he elaborated, “Beyond the usual reasons that I don’t like big crowds of people?”

“But everyone loves you!” she pleaded, latching on to the last bit of his exchange. “What’s wrong with that?”

He started to get agitated when he remembered the all-too-fresh amalgam of deep-seated hate and superficial, fanatical love (and every reaction in between) that he’d just encountered in the general public of the Wizarding World. “It’s not like that for me to go and be in a mixed crowd! If you would listen, you’d know that.”

(The brunet was tempted to drag Ginny to the middle of Diagon and show her what would happen to shake her up and shut her up, but resisted the urge for the very simple reasons he didn’t want to spend any more time with her than he had to or put her in danger. Besides, the “little-devil-on-his-shoulder” maliciously cackled that she’d be able to read all about it in the papers tomorrow and see how sorely mistaken she was.)

“Oh, pish,” she waved him off with flippant disregard, “You’re a hero!”

Harry gritted his teeth again at her attitude, as if his concern over their safety was simply a grave injustice done to her. “Only to some. To others I’m a nuisance or a scapegoat. But no, I meant about what Halloween meant to me now that I finally know where my parents have been lain to rest. Do you understand that? Does is make ANY sort of sense to you that I might want to visit their final resting places on the anniversary I lost them?” He surprised himself by truly really wanting to hear the answer to that.

“But it was the first huge party we could go to as a couple!” she pouted. “And all that was a life-time ago! You and I would have been the attendees of honour! How can you not see that? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to have built it up to the press and then not show up?”

Harry clenched his jaw until he could feel the enamel wear away from his molars; he fixed her with an icy glare. His voice came out in a growl, “So you are saying…. You’d rather go be a “belle of the ball” and forget the day Fred died?! You wouldn’t feel somber or want pay your respects?”

Ginny ‘hmphed’, clearly not convinced. “That’s different.”

Harry had a million things on the tip of his tongue to retort to that.

As terrible as it was to lose a friend and a brother— HE’d lost both his parents as an infant and never known them, he’d been made an orphan that had to grow up in a horrible household, his whole childhood had changed-- he’d been made a bloody Horcrux for fuck’s sake! Then, that most recent anniversary night, he’d been denied a spouse’s support during a difficult time and found she was fooling around with another woman.

It WAS different…. It was compounded exponentially….. and WORSE!

He gritted his teeth and held back. Nothing was worth rehashing or getting worked up over. She wasn’t worth it. She probably wouldn’t get it anyway. Once again he reminded himself how lucky he was to be shot of her and the initial buzzing of blood in his ears died down, he realized she was still talking:

“—so I was hoping that if you put in a good word for me and Demel, it would go a long way….” She trailed off, looking up at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening,” he admitted bluntly, secretly taking enjoyment from her affronted expression that he’d ignored her.

(Was that so bad?) (At the moment he didn’t think so.)

Ginny swallowed audibly, obviously reining in her temper knowing it wouldn’t help her case when asking for a favour.

“I said, since George turned us down for working at the WWW shop, all we can get for work is her waiting tables at Fortescue’s and me working the cafeteria at the Harpy’s practice stadium and concession stands when they tour. We still want to try out next season— since we missed the last one!” she tacked on at the end with a poisonous hiss, an unattractive moue of disdain wrinkling her freckles. “The managers aren’t taking us seriously since we are so young, but if YOU endorsed us, at least for just an audition….”

She actually looked perplexed at the thunderous storm brewing behind his green eyes. “Are you seriously asking me to do you and the woman you cheated on me with a service? Lend my name to help you?”

“Oh, please!” she gestured dismissively, “I’ve told you over and over—she’s my best friend!”

(Harry heard a metal pot clang against floor-tile, only barely muffled by the wall separating them from the two he knew to be listening in.)

“Despite the fact that the whole rest of the world considered it infidelity?” he asked, wanting to know the extent of her skewed thinking (and if he was totally honest, chuffed he had other ear-witnesses to this moment). “If you wanted to be with her that much you should have just been with her and not roped me into some farce of matrimony. When you say that— and you laughed at me on Christmas Eve over it-- do you still mean that it would’ve been just fine for you if I was in a sexual way with my best friend while we were married? ‘As long as it didn’t produce a bastard child?’ Is that the version of reality you’re still sticking to?”

She huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “I told you before, Ron would never have you.”

“But what about Charlie?” he tried, testing the waters of acceptance.

“Ew, Harry!” Ginny recoiled in revulsion. “Don’t be gross!”

Harry blinked at that harsh assessment and flexed his fists at his side, fingers flickering towards his wand. “What exactly about that idea disgusts you?” he asked in an even tone, pleased that he’d managed that without snapping at her in anger.

“That someone attractive of the same sex might want me?” At her obstinate expression, he elaborated, channeling Snape’s low, scathing tone. “Or that I might much prefer an affectionate man who’d gotten to know the REAL me instead of a child who was just latching onto a grandiose, silly school-girl hero-worshipping fantasy? Does it offend you that I might like getting true, unconditional love in instead of the treatment I’ve endured at your hands?”

Ginny blinked, uncomprehending.

“No….” she started slowly as if Harry was hopelessly dim (barely repressing a “duh”). “I mean he’s my brother…. And old! Why would you even SAY something like that? He’s a promiscuous horn-dog that will fuck anything with a pulse and has plenty of partners.” Ginny gave a grimace and shudder of revulsion, “And you are…. YOU! Practically asexual. You don’t even like sex!”

(He patted himself on the back for stopping himself from hexing her for daring to insult the man of his dreams but was silently seething at her erroneous assessment of his libido. His lip curled as he held back from his the impulse of telling her that her cunt was so repulsive and nasty that even just the thought of it made him feel like puking.)

But once started, she couldn’t seem to stop— even for the sake of her own situation. “I mean, I offered you both me AND Demi-- and you turned us down? What’s wrong with you? Women are beautiful! Who wouldn’t want to ‘double-their-fun’?! Men’s bodies are simply…. hairy and sweaty and strictly…. utilitarian-- only necessary for ‘baby-batter’…. Eurgh.”

Harry’s jaw was so clenched again that he was sure that he’d need a dentist after this! (Too bad Hermione was never able to locate her parents after she’d Obliviated them and sent them to Australia.)

(WHY had Ginny insisted so much on getting married when she wasn’t attracted to men at all?! Oh yeah, she wanted the societal standing and money and famous name and “lifestyle”! All wonderful reasons to be bound to someone forever! *snort*)

The brunet’s face twisted as if he’d just tasted something incredibly sour. He brushed his hands down his thighs and raised them, palms up dismissively, about to stand and ready to leave when she screeched, “So you’re not even going to help me? After all I’ve done--”

“After all you’ve done?” he sneered through a tone that could slice granite. “After all you done FOR me, is that what you were going to say?” Her defiant brown eyes hardened and he knew that to be true. “More like, after all you’ve done TO me— why should I?”

“WHY?! You— I!” she spluttered indignantly (and entirely without dignity). “I made sacrifices! I was your wife!”

Harry had a hard time not pointing out that it was she who manipulated into being so, had treated him quite callously and subsequently not earned any positive regard as a result.

“You should at least help me get out of this pathetic house! Mum lets us stay because we have nowhere else to go-- thanks to you tossing me aside like so much rubbish!” She squealed in a melodramatic way, clutching a fist to her chest, “After me agreeing to no alimony, you can’t even do us one teensy favour of trying to help our careers and get self-sufficient?”

Harry could only look at her incredulously. Apparently, when her plans were crumbling it incensed her into irrationality. She really was her own worst enemy when lashing out in egocentric anger; speaking of her thwarted desires always got her fiery temper so riled up that it caused her to say and do the most outrageous, self-defeating things. Recklessly (and unwisely) she went on:

“I mean, we could get a dingy flat with what we earn but my parents are making us pay rent with half of what we make. SHE probably has a warded shoebox full of Sickles under her bed in order to give back to you one day,” she gave an unbecoming snort of derision, “but the joke’s on her, we make double what she thinks and at least here we get free food and laundry service at the end of a hard day of working our fingers to the bone!”

“Your mother is a Saint to put up with such behaviour,” Harry sighed serenely, but steeled himself for the next statement that was a long time in the making— one that would burn certain bridges forever.

“But I feel no obligation to you anymore and especially not towards your lover. I’m actually astounded you would ask or even treat me like you are entitled. You have, quite literally, made your bed…. I don’t wish to listen anymore. I don’t want to see you ever again. I’m done here.”

As he stood up to go, he brushed his hands off over the matter and muttered, “Good luck.” (barely refraining from an added “good riddance”). He had every intention of quietly turning his back on such a miserable, misguided wench and foolish heart-- he’d apologize to Molly that he and Charlie couldn’t stay to visit and then they’d silently slip away, leaving behind the selfish witch to silently stew in all her spewed bile.

He hadn’t taken two steps before they were both startled by the backdoor slamming open— so forcefully that it smacked the wall-- and two very angry redheads stomping towards them.

He didn’t notice Ginny flailing back, trying to become invisible in the backrest of the weather-beaten wood they’d been sitting on— all he could see was a livid mother and his beautiful man rushing to his side.

But it wasn’t the dragon-handler’s embrace he was crushed in.

It was Molly’s (and his cheek against her squishy bosom was welcome-- yet a bit squicky at the same time). He melted in her arms, profoundly glad to be enveloped in her sympathy and have her support despite not being a blood relation.

Suddenly, he was twirled as if in some fancy dance move, reeling over his stumbling steps and into the strong arms of his lover-- from soft matronly comfort then surrounded by the hard hunk of a wonderful man…. He breathed deep, inhaling the Earth- musk- and leather smell he’d come to equate with all positive emotions and safety.

After his lover stroked and caressed all over his face and smoothed back his hair, all the while making sure his beloved was all right, the couple heard the low, stern, tight-lipped tone of Mrs. Weasley (which was even more ominous and foreboding than her yelling) telling her daughter to pack her things and go. Over stuttered protestations from her daughter, Molly said quite resolutely, “You girls get a room at The Leaky then, and your own flat will follow.”

Out of the corner of Harry’s eye he saw that the Matriarch’s jaw was set and her hands were balled on her hips in her determination. Ginny made to angrily storm past the couple wrapped up in each other but her arm was caught in a meaty, unforgiving grasp and Charlie growled menacingly:

“Do you mean to tell me that you took advantage of the generosity of our mother and then had the audacity to mock it?” Charlie seethed. “She’s been SICK over having half her children avoid this house because of you— and you haven’t even appreciated her kind heart? Have no remorse? No shame? Have you thought about the effects of your actions have had on Dad AT ALL?!”

The young witch was speechless and apparently terrified by the hostility she’d incurred by venting her mind— which she thought had been private to the boy that had always been such a push-over in the past. Ginny glared at Harry, as if he’d brought this all down upon her single-handedly before she rushed away into the house with her mother hot on her heels.

As the men clung there, feeling shaky after all the upsets of the day, Charlie asked over and over if Harry was all right and the brunet weakly laughed he was fine…. So many times…. Those calloused fingertips needed-- almost obsessively-- to re-acquaint themselves to every inch of his skin, to determine he was unharmed.

It seemed they both needed to re-affirm their connection and that they were whole after such a wrenching afternoon. The tough dragon-handler was so tender and attentive that it actually made Harry’s throat clench in an embarrassingly sappy way. He tried to return such feelings of faith and security by running his hands over quivering muscles, whispering sweet reassurances.

They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t notice Mrs. Weasley perched in the doorway, just drinking in the Soul-nourishing sight of the adorable pair with a shit-eating grin on her face.

She marveled at the genuine and deep concern etched in every feature of her second-born as he pressed light pecks to Harry’s nose, forehead, eyelids and then lips; her heart swelled in pride at how chivalrous and caring a man her little boy turned out. The tattooed ‘tough guy’s’ gentle nurturing was such a discernible contrast from what had been absent and never displayed in her daughter’s treatment of her spouse.

It was so plain to see, now, that he was finally settled down and madly in love, something she’d worried about when his playboy ways had continued all the way into his late twenties. Charlie’s agitation while they listened to her daughter’s terrible words was understandable, but she hadn’t known the extent of his fierce protectiveness until this very moment. It made her so happy to watch her son treat their darling Harry like he was the most precious thing in the world. After all that that special boy had been through, he certainly deserved it.

She cocked her head in contemplation.

There was something different and wonderful about her surrogate son as well.

She hadn’t quite been able to put her finger on what it was while they had been spying on the all the drama playing out on her porch, but it was crystal-clear now. There was a calm contentment in him that hadn’t been there before— the haunted, floundering boy she once knew was now a confident, strong man. He’d withstood Ginny’s hurtful, spiteful accusations and admissions with a very admirable, restrained maturity.

And the undeniable love that was currently shining bright between her two boys— that they had found in each other— was such a beautiful sight!

When they started in with the snogging in earnest, she cleared her throat and came forward. The couple looked horrified, but she simply asked, “After the Dissolution?” with a radiant smile gracing her features; they emphatically nodded and relaxed when she grabbed them both in a huge bear hug.

She shoo’d them into the house, dabbing happy tears out of the corners of her eyes with her apron as the Floo was spitting out more and more relatives. Her beaming face said it all. She was ecstatic at having so many more of her children surrounding her at the same time— and had felt absolutely no guilt whatsoever at calling everyone to drop whatever they were doing and insisting they needed to come to The Burrow straight away.

The resultant gathering was very merry indeed; everyone was eager for a traditional, large (long over-due and stress-free) get-together as well. No one brought up the elephant-in-the-room reason-- that Ginny and her lover were no longer there-- but just enjoyed the much-missed family time.

Charlie and Harry were also both relieved that their relationship was now out in open to all the Weasleys and extended family— and that everyone accepted it and were happy for them. It was a splendid evening of catching up, good-natured teasing and lots and lots of laughter (plus, of course, a fabulous meal!).

~O~

After they made love in their room in the Tower for the last time for the next few months (and Charlie was sated and snoring) Harry lay awake.

He was nervous and excited for their Summer trip to Romania. He’d never traveled out of the UK before…. He also wondered about what it would be like to meet all of Charlie’s co-workers, many of whom were ex-lovers, of a casual ‘fuck-buddy’ type— and to be so far away from his own (extremely platonic) friends. That part was a bit daunting….

The brunet sighed sleepily and thought, ‘Well, it will be an adventure and it will be amazing as long as we’re doing it together’ before he too drifted off.

~O~

A/N: OK, so when I first got the idea for this story, Ginny wasn’t going to be such a bitch but it just happened as I went along. And I wanted her to admit and realize it was her unrealistic expectations and self-absorption— among other things, like Harry realizing as well that he wasn’t that into it— that had the marriage falling apart at some point. And they DID, which started to redeem Ginny’s part a bit…. But then she just couldn’t help but lapse back into her selfishness as I wrote…. Muses are weird….

Anyway, now we really ARE going to the dragon preserve next update!
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WONKY CROSS