The Hardest Things (tentative title)

The Walls of My Life: Like Shattering Glass

Heartbreaking Explanations

Chapter Two

The change in Harry was rather remarkable. He had gone from being elated, to shocked, to downright mad.

But when Harry was mad, you could expect two reactions: a reaction we will call “The Ron Reaction” where you basically… pull a “Ron”. You yell, scream, kick things, say things you end up regretting, and then go get drunk to forget about it. The second reaction is what we shall refer to as “The Slytherin Reaction”. This has a better effect than “The Ron Reaction” because you are so royally pissed off, and yet so calm, the person you are upset at knows that they only have a few seconds before they are dead. You glare and your eyes go black, you clench your knuckles until they turn white, and when you talk, it comes out in a hiss or a growl, or something equally horrifying.

And I'm sorry to say that Harry pulled a “Slytherin Reaction”, not “The Ron Reaction” because we all agree that would have been much more amusing to see.

But I digress.

“So?” Harry said, his voice low, gravelly, and dangerous. “If not mine, than which bastard fathered your child?” You whore, he added on in his head. He decided that now was not the time to break out the soap opera theatrics.

Ginny flinched at the term “bastard” but said, quietly, not looking at him… “Draco Malfoy.”

Harry's fists clenched and turned whiter, if that was possible. He stayed silent for a moment, just focusing on breathing in and out.

He felt like he had just been punched in the stomach. He certainly didn't plan on him coming home to the supposed-love-of-his-life saying, “Oh hi honey, I missed you… guess what? I'm pregnant. With your biggest rival from school's child. Welcome home!”

Ginny looked scared out of her mind.

And then, finally,

“When?”

Ginny took a deep breath. “Two months ago, obviously.”

“Where?”

“…At a hotel.”

Classy, Harry thought, but then realized it could've been worse. It could've been in their bed.

Finally,

“Why?”

Ginny didn't meet his eyes.

“I don't know, really. I had a crush on him back at Hogwarts, but I never did anything about it. It would've been unacceptable. And eventually it faded away… or so I thought.

“I had gone to Hogsmeade to do some shopping, and stopped in at The Three Broomsticks. There he was, looking depressed. He had… vulnerability on his face. Real emotion. I felt sorry for him, so I approached him and we talked… he wasn't drunk or anything, but he did have some firewiskey. We had left the place by then, and were wandering through town… we had walked so far, we were into a muggle town. He invited me to dinner, and I figured, why not? Dinner was great, and after that we talked some more. We talked about Hogwarts, and I admitted that I had a crush on him `til sixth year and he said that he had admired me as well. But his father was alive then, and he said that he wanted to, but couldn't act on his feelings. And then… he kissed me.”

Harry flinched, but said nothing.

Ginny continued. “After that… things got out of hand and… you know.”

Harry's eyes, blacker than the sea at night, raged with fury. But his voice, calm and cold, asked, “How many times have you slept with him?”

“Once,” Ginny whispered. “After that, I told him that we couldn't let it happen again—I was with you, and that even though I was attracted to him, it was you I love.” She fell silent again, waiting. “It's always been you.”

Harry did a very Hermione-thing then and went over what she said, debating whether or not to forgive her. A few awkward minutes later, he reached a verdict.

“Get out.”