The Hardest Things (tentative title)

The Walls of My Life: Like Shattering Glass

Lean on Me

Chapter Three

“Wh-what?” Ginny couldn't believe it.

“I said,” Harry repeated, clenching his teeth, “Get. Out.”

“But… but…” Ginny really thought he would take her in. She said she loved him, didn't she? That sleeping with Dra—Malfoy, meant nothing to her… right?

Harry's eyes narrowed. “You really didn't think I'd let you stay, after you cheated on me by sleeping with my former rival, whose son you're having? Really, Ginny.”

“But I love you,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah?” He raised an eyebrow and his voice and manner were cold. “You should have thought of that before you slept with him.”

He turned and started to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Ginny called out.

“I'm going for a walk for two hours. When I come back,” his voice dropped. “I want you gone.”

“But where will I go?” She cried out as he grabbed his cloak.

He opened the door and paused. “That's not my problem.”

And he left.

Once he was gone, he immediately went to a muggle park near his aunt and uncle's old house. He had no idea how they were doing—ever since his defeat of Voldemort he had no reason to go back there every summer.

He thought of Voldemort and those battles—he still had nightmares about them. So many people died… Moody… Snape….Charlie and George Weasley… all for him… all for humanity…

He still remembered the foul stench of death and the dancing lights of spells. He could remember Ron battling harder than before when Luna had gotten hit and Hermione blocking spells for him at every turn—she wasn't the least concerned about herself.

Harry closed his eyes. He shouldn't have to think about that now. The love of his life had cheated on him… with Draco Malfoy of all people. Oh god… his fists clenched. When he found that bastard he'd… oh god…. There wasn't a spell to cause him enough pain… but then he stopped. It was just as much of Ginny's fault as it was of Draco's, even more so.

Tears started to leak out. He was cursed. He lost everyone he ever loved, even after the war. Death wasn't the only way to lose someone….

Knock knock knock. “Hello?”

It was a female voice and Harry immediately froze. It wasn't Ginny's voice—no, this voice was more lyrical. Soft and sweet as always (well… except when yelling at Ron,) it was clearly Hermione Granger's.

“I'm in here,” Harry called out gruffly.

There was a pause. “Let me in Harry,” she said, gently.

He too paused and sighed. Blast Hermione. She knew him too well.

Harry got up from the floor and opened the door. Hermione took one look at his face and flung her arms around him in a hug. Almost at once the tears came back and he cried into her shoulder. She shut the door and locked it, using more advanced spells that a simple “alohomora” couldn't undo. He looked at her curiously, his face tear-streaked, though they had stopped.

“I think we'll be in here a while,” she whispered to him, smiling a little.

He attempted to smile back, knowing she was right.

“Wouldn't they miss us?” He asked.

“They will, but Ron knows something is up and I told him I'd try and find you,” Hermione explained. “Ron would come but he's…”

“Busy,” Harry finished, understanding completely. “I know.”

They both sank to the floor, their arms still comfortably around each other. They said nothing, merely sitting.

In younger years Hermione would have prodded to see what was wrong. Now she knew that that method would only be used in the most dire of situations. But the best way was just to let him come to her.

Hermione already had a good clue that this was about Ginny—the two obviously hadn't shown up together, and both looked worn and exhausted. Yet she still said nothing.

“As you probably already know,” Harry began, as if able to read her thoughts, “this is about Ginny.” He paused, as if waiting for her to say something, but when she didn't, he continued. “It started when I came home today. I don't know what I was expecting from her Hermione—a nice welcome home, hugs, kisses… but she wasn't even there to greet me at the door. I called for her—she answered—and then she came down.” He gulped.

“I knew something was wrong and told her so. God—she looked so beautiful, Hermione.” The tears started to come back. “And then… she told me… she was pregnant.”

Hermione was surprised at this but still said nothing. “I was so happy, Hermione. I never thought… when I was younger… that I'd live to be a father… but now that I was…” The tears poured down his face now, but he still kept talking as if they weren't even there. “And then,” his voice cracked, “she told me that she was only two months along. And I had been gone three.” The last word was a whisper. “Three months. And that meant…”

The baby isn't yours…Hermione said in her head.

“Oh god Harry,” Hermione's arms tightened around him. “Poor darling.”

It was an interesting choice of words for Hermione there—had she ever called anyone a “poor darling”? But neither commented on it, and Harry continued.

“Do you know whose the child is?” Harry said in a quiet voice.

“Whose?” Hermione whispered.

“Malfoy's,” Harry was trying very hard not sob now. “Draco sodding Malfoy. She slept with one of my worst enemies.”

All of his insecurities seem to come out then. “Why, Hermione? Why did she sleep with him? I asked, sure, but she didn't give me a straight answer. Am I not good enough Hermione? Or am I just cursed? I am cursed. My parents, Sirius… they've all been taken away from me Mione, and I didn't understand why. But now I know: I don't deserve love. I don't,” he ended, seemingly unaware of the never ending tears still streaming down his cheeks.

Hermione's initial shock worn off about hearing about Malfoy and instead she pulled his head with one arm onto her chest. “No, no,” she soothed, tears welling up at her friend's pain. Her fingers ran through his hair consolingly. “Darling, no. Don't ever believe that. You are worth love. Everyone—well, perhaps Voldemort—is. Don't you understand? People died because they loved you. Oh Harry, love is so powerful. Don't you know that by now? Love helped keep you alive and helped you defeat Voldemort. Love is what makes us human. Because you lost so many people you loved it only makes you deserve love more. Don't you know how many people love you? Ron loves you and Luna loves you and Molly and Arthur love you and Fred and George and Bill love you and Dumbledore loves you and I love you…” she trailed off, her fingers still running through his hair, in a gesture she knew soothed him.

“But Ginny doesn't love me,” he whispered, and in his mind, she was the only one that mattered.

Harry thought he was the only person feeling pain that night. But as tears silently slipped down his cheeks, he wasn't even aware that there was wetness in his own hair.

The wetness was from Hermione's cheeks now; she was crying because of the new ache in her chest, half of it from her broken-hearted friend, and half of it from her own broken heart.

You see, Hermione was dating the one and only Draco Malfoy.

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Author's Note: I really appreciate everyone's reviews. Thank you!