Poison and Wine

Early October, 1998

It was late when Hermione reappeared at Grimmauld Place. Harry had been pacing the living room nervously for the better part of an hour. He could only hope that Ginny she was sleeping heavily enough not to hear his restlessness as the old wooden floors creaked. The Firewhisky in his hand had yet to do anything to calm his nerves.

Hermione opened the front door slowly and quietly as if expecting him to be asleep. When her eyes met his, she stopped dead in her tracks.

“We need to talk,” Harry said.

Hermione gave a slow nod as she stepped into the room and let the door shut behind her. “I suppose we do.” He could see that she was nervous. “I’m so sorry that it happened again. I didn’t mean to touch-”

“This isn’t your fault,” he said.

Hermione offered a small, sad smile. “It is. We’re not meant to see into each other's minds like that.”

Harry couldn’t agree more. He hated his Occlumency lessons with Snape. He hated that the professor was able to dig into his mind with ease and he hated the few times he had accidentally stumbled into Snape’s mind. It was hard to imagine what Hermione was going through. However, he knew it wasn't Hermione or her new ability that was to blame. Some secrets couldn't stay buried forever.

“I…I think I need to explain what you saw,” Harry said at last. “Can we…sit?”

She nodded, giving him a sympathetic expression.

Together, they sat on the couch. Hermione watched him carefully, waiting for him to be the first to speak. Harry wished he was better with words. He wished he could explain away what Hermione had seen without admitting the truth. His stomach churned at the memory his friend had accidentally seen. While he knew it wasn’t her fault, he had been furious that she had seen one of his darkest secrets.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he began. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I never should have reached out and touched you.”

“What you saw was…” For the past four hours he had contemplated what he was going to say. He could either lie to his best friend or tell the truth and upturn his entire life. It wasn’t an easy decision.

“Was none of my business,” she said with a sharp look. “And it was out of context. Harry, I won’t pretend to understand everything about you, we all have secrets. But…if that memory shows what I think it shows…I just think you might have a bit of contemplating to do.”

There was no malice in her words. If anything, she seemed sympathetic. It surprised him.

“It was…what it looked like,” Harry couldn’t meet her eyes as he spoke. 

“Does Ginny know?”

He scoffed. “No, of course not.”

“Harry,” she sighed. “You need to tell her.”

“I can never tell her. I can never tell anyone,” he looked up frantically. “No one can know, Hermione. No one.”

A look of concern passed her features. “You can’t live like that.”

“I have to. All I’ve wanted was a family and I’m finally getting one. I love Ginny and I’ll love my child…I already do and she’s not even here yet. I…Ginny can’t know the truth.”

“The truth won’t keep you from having a family,” Hermione said quietly. “But it might keep you from being truly happy.”

Harry aggressively blinked back the tears that were beginning to form at the corner of his eyes. He hated that she knew. No one was supposed to know.

“Harry,” Hermione said gently. Her dark honey eyes met his. “This isn’t something that’s meant to be hidden--it’s not a bad thing.”

He scoffed again. “Yeah? How many wizards do you know who are openly…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word out loud. It was as if saying it made it all the more real. 

“So,” she took a steadying breath. “If you don’t want to tell Ginny, I certainly won’t make you. But I just want you to think about something. You would rather go your whole life hiding than face the truth?”

“Yes,” Harry replied. “If the world knew-”

“You saved the bloody world! They have no right to have any opinion about your social life.”

“But they will.”

“You’re right, they will. But even if you live a lie, they will have opinions about that as well. Wouldn’t you rather have them hate you for being authentic than hate you for whatever else they'll fine to hate?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” she admitted. “I have no idea what it’s like to be in your situation. But I…I know what it feels like to be considered less-than for something you can’t control.”

Harry thought about the awful things that Malfoy and his friends had called Hermione. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive the same level of cruelty. 

“And it’s not like you have to tell the whole world all at once. I think…I think it ought to start with a conversation with Ginny. She…Harry, she deserves to know.”

A wave of guilt hit him at once. He had been foolish enough to think that Ginny would somehow never find out. Hermione was right, she deserved to know the truth. It wasn’t fair to lie to her. He had already lied to her for long enough. All at once, the guilt and fear caught up to him in a way that it hadn’t for years.

Harry wasn’t sure when Hermione had joined him on the couch or when he had begun to cry. He felt like a child. This was all his doing yet he had the guts to cry about it? The tears didn’t stop as easily as he would have liked them to. With gloved hands, Hermione rubbed his back, letting him lean into her shoulder, just as she had done countless times before.

“I’m an idiot,” he said after some time. He took his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt. “I…I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

She continued to rub circles on his back in a comforting way. “You’re not an idiot.”

“I…I’ve known for years, I just never…I thought the feelings I had would go away. I thought I was confused. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could love Ginny the way my dad loved my mum.”

She gave him a soft smile. “I don’t know much about love,” she admitted. “But I’m fairly certain that’s not how it works.”

Harry gave a small smile. “I know.”

For a moment the two friends sat in silence on the couch. It was well-passed three in the morning yet, Harry couldn’t stomach the idea of laying down beside Ginny. 

“She’ll hate me,” he said after a long time.

“She’ll be upset,” Hermione said. “But I don’t know if it’s fair to say that she’ll hate you.”

“Is it bad to say that I think this scares me more than Voldemort.”

At that Hermione laughed. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’ll be alright.”

It took Harry two days to gather himself enough to talk to Ginny. 

He returned home from work one night to find Ginny upstairs in the nursery. The walls were now painted and most of the furniture had been put together--apart from one bookshelf that was in pieces around Ginny. The red-headed witch gazed down at the collection of parts with an irritated look. Her hands were placed firmly on her hips.

“They say these bloody things are supposed to be ‘easy’. I feel like I’m trying to solve a bloody riddle with these instructions,” she let out a long sigh.

“I can help,” Harry offered quietly. “But I…Gin, I need to talk to you.”

At that, she looked up from the pile of bookshelf pieces. Her hazel eyes met Harry’s. “Is everything alright? Was Malfoy being a prat again?”

“It’s not…” he took a deep breath, fighting the overwhelming desire to tuck tail and run.

Ginny’s features softened when she noticed his discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

Slowly, Harry stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “There’s something I need to tell you and…well, it isn’t pleasant.”

“Alright,” her eyes searched him as if looking for an injury.

“Let’s sit down,” he gestured to the two chairs that sat beside the window. 

Soft autumn light trickled in through the curtains. Ginny sat down slowly in one of the chairs, her movements had become slower with the pregnancy. Harry sat down across from her wondering absently if this conversation should have waited until after the child was born.

“You’re beginning to worry me,” Ginny commented. “What’s this about? Were you fired?”

Harry wished it was something so simple. “No, I…Ginny, I’ve been lying to you.”

“About what?” Her words were cautious.

“Myself…things I…I’ve kept some things buried really deep down and I…I’m not who you think I am.”

The color drained from her face. Suddenly, she looked terribly frightened--it wasn’t a look he was accustomed to seeing on her face. “Harry, I…I’d like to think I know you pretty well. We’re having a child. We've been talking about a wedding.”

“I know,” he blinked. The hot pressure of tears was beginning to surface once more.

“Just tell me what’s going on. I have no doubt that we’ll be able to figure it out whatever it is. I love you,” there was a fierceness to her tone that Harry had grown to love.

“I’m…I’m gay.” The words were out, and he couldn’t help but feel as though he had released Pandora’s Box.

Ginny studied him with a vacant expression. Her eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. Time ticked by and Harry contemplated hurtling himself out of the nearby window to avoid her gaze.

“Like all the way gay?” was her question after several long seconds.

“Yeah,” he looked down at his hands. They were clutching his baggy jeans like a life raft. 

Again, Ginny fell silent. Slowly, Harry forced himself to look at her once more. A tear slipped out from her eye, trailing down her cheek. She let it fall somewhere onto her shirt. 

“Gin, I’m so sorry,” his voice felt raw. “I…I thought if I…ignored it…”

“I’m an idiot,” Ginny said.

“No,” he reached out and took one of her hands. “You’re not. I am. I lied. I…I’m so sorry.”

“How long have you known?” Another tear slipped from her eye.

“Since I was pretty young, I guess,” he sighed. “I just didn’t really understand. Every boy I knew liked girls, so I guess I liked them too. I just didn’t feel the same way…I should have known. I should have tried to tell you sooner. I just-”

“Harry,” she interrupted him. “I already knew.”

Now it was his turn to be surprised. He fell into a silence, waiting for her to explain.

“I started noticing something was different about you pretty early into us dating. At the time I thought it was nothing but slowly, I began to piece things together. I had hoped you were into both, I suppose. I thought that maybe I was some special exception but…Harry you never looked at me the way men look at the women they love.”

“I…I do love you…I just-”

“I know,” Ginny smiled sadly. “I didn’t want it to be true…but I’ve known the truth for a while.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

She raised a red eyebrow and smirked. “Ask my traumatized boyfriend if he’s secretly gay? I figured it could wait until after the war. So, I waited and then I got pregnant. You seemed so happy with the idea of having a family that I…”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m still having this child,” she raised her chin. “And I still want you in her life and in mine.”

Now, it was impossible for him to keep the pressure behind his eyes at bay. The dam broke and he felt the heat of tears run down his cheeks. Ginny squeezed his hand tightly.

“You’re not getting rid of me so easily,” she said.

“But I…I don’t know what to do…”

“Neither do I, but we’ll figure it out together, yeah? We’ll still be parents.”

Harry stood and walked to Ginny’s chair. He pulled her into an embrace. She returned the hug with ferocity. Her fists grabbing hold of the back of his shirt.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“Shut up,” she said without any real venom. 

“Does anyone else know?” Ginny asked as the two of them finished putting together the bookshelf.

“Hermione,” Harry said. “She touched me and saw…”

Ginny looked at him. “What did she see?”

“Just a…kiss,” he felt himself turning bright red.

Her eyes widened dramatically. “With who?”

“C’mon, you just figured out my…truth. Can’t we leave it at that?”

“No,” she said adamantly. “Hermione knows, can’t I?”

“My fifth year I kissed…Theo.”

Her jaw dropped. “Nott? A Slytherin?”

Harry groaned. “Only once. It was how I knew…for sure.”

“So, just me and Hermione…are you going to tell anyone else?”

“I mean I have to, right? Eventually people will figure out you and I…aren’t together and they’ll wonder why.”

Ginny shrugged. “Let them wonder. If you’re not ready to share, then don’t.”

Once again, Harry was shocked by his (ex)girlfriends’ kindness. As she put together the finishing touches to the shelves, he wished desperately that he loved her in the way he pretended to.

“But,” she said. “Eventually, you’ll want to date, right?”

The idea made him nauseous. Asking a woman out was one thing, women were understanding. Men, however, terrified him slightly. He felt himself turn pink once more. “Not right now,” he said. “I want to focus on you and our baby. I want to finish fixing up the house.”

Ginny shrugged. “Alright.”

“But that shouldn’t stop you from going out if you want to, obviously,” Harry explained.

She gave a small shrug. “I’m six months pregnant right now,” she shot him a look. “I think dating may be off the table for a bit. Besides, the more I think about it the more terrified I am to tell my mum we’re not together.”

He winced at the thought. Molly had been so incredibly excited when they announced they were dating. She was even more excited by the announcement of their child. It was hard to imagine what her response would be to the two of them breaking up.

“I won’t tell her right away,” Ginny explained. “I think you’re right. Let’s focus on the baby, the house, our jobs and-”

“Jobs?” He shot a look at her. Since becoming pregnant, Ginny had yet to mention much about working. He had assumed that she would want to be a stay-at-home mother like Molly.

“Oh, right,” she looked away for a quick moment before her eyes found him once more. “I kinda got myself a job. I was planning on telling you tonight but then, well, you know.”

“Good for you,” he smiled. “What job is it?”

“I’ll be starting with the Holyhead Harpies next season. So, I’ll still be off work for nearly a year, their season begins at the end of August for training.”

Harry’s smile widened. “Gin, that’s wonderful! I didn’t realize you were even looking for a job.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why but I felt weird telling you about it.”

He frowned.

“I guess we were both keeping some secrets,” she gave a small smile.

It had been a long day at the Malfoy Manor. Harry had been bitten by four books (one of which had incredibly long teeth). Another book had sent a hex his way when he opened it. The last book yelled at him in the way a Howler might have, cursing him out in a language he didn’t know. Because of this terrible day, he was fairly certain that Malfoy was having a wonderful day.

The blonde git had lingered around the library for the better part of the morning, watching with a grin as Harry battled the dark books. Eventually, he left, only to return with Pansy Parkinson in tow. Parkinson barely gave Harry a glance. Instead, she took tea with Malfoy near the fire.

Harry had no intention of listening to their conversation. He assumed it would only make his anger intensify. Instead, he tried to focus on the books. Sometimes, he reminded himself just how fortunate he really was. 

Ginny had forgiven him. 

The world hadn’t stopped turning just because he was gay.

Hermione didn’t hate him.

He would still be a father. He would still have a family.

These thoughts were what got him through the day. When evening came at last and the skies above the domed glass ceiling grew dark, Harry was more than ready to return home to Ginny and Hermione. He packed up his supplies, hoping that he would not have to run across Draco before leaving.

Much to Harry’s pleasure, Draco was gone by the time he left the library. He stepped out into the empty halls of the Manor, with his satchel slung over his shoulder. The moment he began to make his way to the door a figure stepped out from one of the unknown rooms. Her eyes met Harry’s with a bit of hesitation.

“You’re leaving?” Parkinson asked.

Harry gave a small nod as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “Yes, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Are you getting close to being done?” She fidgeted slightly with the hem of her well-tailored skirt.

“Yeah, I’d say I’ve probably got a week or so left.”

Parkinson nodded. “I…I wanted to talk to you before you left, if you don’t mind. If you’re busy, I understand.”

Harry wanted more than anything to tell her he was busy and leave her standing alone in the corridor. However, something inside him told him to stay, to listen. “Sure, I’ve got a bit of time. Is everything alright?”

“I know you took Draco’s case because you’re a good person and you have a bit of a hero complex,” she began.

Harry frowned. This wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear.

“I…I mean that in the best of ways,” she raised her nose slightly. “I’m thankful you did. If Smith or one of the others took this case, I…I don’t think anyone would be around to stop them from hurting him.”

Part of Harry wanted to defend his coworkers; however, Parkinson was right. “Many are still upset about…everything that’s happened.”

“Right, but you of all people should probably hate us the most and yet you’ve…you stood up for us at the trials. You are standing up for Draco now, even if he’s too dense to know it. I just want to say thank you and…I’m sorry.”

Harry was left staring at Parkinson like she had begun to grow a second head. Out of everyone he had known, she was the last he had expected an apology from. “I…thank you.”

She straightened her jacket. “I never should have betrayed you to…him. I was a bitch to your friends, especially Granger. I want you to know that I know. I don’t…I don’t want to be the girl I was when I was at school.”

“Thank you,” he said with a small smile. “I…I don’t really know what to say to all this.”

“Words were never really your strong suit, were they?” She smirked. 

“I suppose not,” he admitted.

“Can we start over?”

“Uh, sure.”

Parkinson smiled. “I’m Pansy,” she stuck out her hand.

“Harry,” he shook it.

“You might be done with your work at the Manor before I see you next. But should we see each other, don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“Same to you,” he said. Harry’s mind was still reeling with the confusing realization that Pansy Parkinson was taking responsibility for her actions.

Harry returned home that evening to find Ginny and Hermione sitting together in the living room. The fire was burning hot in the fireplace, filling the room with a much-needed warmth. He dropped his bag and cloak onto an empty chair and sprawled out onto the carpet in front of the fireplace.

From the looks of it, Ginny must have told Hermione what Harry had shared with her. Since the war, the two women had become closer than they had ever been in the past. As he laid on the thick carpet, Harry realized just how thankful he was to have them both in his life.

“Rough day?” Ginny interrupted his thoughts.

“Somewhat,” he admitted. Between admitting to Ginny that he was gay, and Pansy’s sudden apology, Harry was beginning to feel like the world was turning upside down.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

Slowly he sat up and glanced at the two witches on the couch. “You know Pansy Parkinson?”

They both made a face of disgust.

“She spent the day at the Manor with Malfoy--I didn’t really think much of it. They left me alone for the most part. But when I was leaving, she tracked me down and apologized…for everything.”

Ginny and Hermione exchanged a look of surprise and confusion.

“Was it a trick?” Ginny asked.

“I don’t think so, that’s the weirdest part. She seemed sincere.”