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December 27th, 2007
08:16 pm - 12 Days of Christmas Challenge: Day 2
So I got time after all, Adam opened presents first and we scarpered whilst they sat down to a late tea and trifle. Huzzah.
Once again my good friend lycoris is running the 12 Days of Christmas challenge. This time she even has a community for it (also a mirror one on insanejournal).
Day 2: Two Break-Ups (Actually I only have one, because I svck, although I do have some that come later which might cross over into this sort of territory.)
Title: Breakdown
Author: Lord Localfreak
Fandom: Harry Potter
Ship: well...HP/GW though, does it count as 'ship' when it's a break-up?
Summary: Post-DH, Epilogue-compliant break up
After that day, everything changed. He still hated to think about it; tried desperately to blur the details from his mind; wished that a pensieve would enable him to remove a memory entirely- to pluck out the pain. He couldn’t keep it back, like the flashes he’d had for years after the war-he’d never been any good at blocking memories away. They preyed at him, everywhere he went, every time he moved he could hear her; snatches of the conversation- and all the arguments thereafter. “You’re too needy, you don’t need a lover you need a bloody carer sometimes!” she often shouted things like that, they were the ace up her sleeve and she saved them up to scream in angry moments, particularly in arguments which she seemed to be losing. She knew they stung, the first time had been years ago she’d stumbled upon that particular way of hurting him. Of course afterwards she had cried and begged forgiveness, she hadn’t meant it, she’d just been angry, she shouldn’t have said it, and of course, he’d forgiven, and all those hundreds of arguments afterwards in which she did the exact same thing. Well of course maybe he was a bit…needy, embarrassing as it might sound, he’d never had a family before- at first every argument they’d had as a couple had scared him shitless, convinced she would leave, that it had all gone irreparably wrong. She had comforted him then, by always coming back, once the shouting and storming about had finished he was able to hold her and know that the arguments were small things, hiccups that everyone had to go through, part of what “being with” someone entailed.
It hadn’t been a fight this time. They’d had quite a lot lately, mostly about her wanting more time with her career and him not being home enough to look after the children, who had left the washing spell on one day, whose fault it was that the anti-doxy charm had failed and eaten the curtains that were a present from Fleur and Bill (she’d never even liked those curtains), but it had been a quiet day, warm and bright. The children had been sent to Molly’s and he’d found her sitting waiting for him in the garden, by the apple tree. She had been staring at the dry soil at the base of the tree, obviously distracted. “I’m leaving.” She’d said. “For good. I thought we could make it work but-“ she’d left it unsaid. He had tried, desperately, humiliatingly tried, what about the children? What about all the years together? “I was young. We were young. Everyone was getting married-we didn’t even pause to have a life after the war.” He wondered when ‘marriage’ had become a kind of entrapment for her -that she felt she hadn’t ‘lived’? And how could she feel that, bandy that term so carelessly, after all they had lost in the War? He’d been so stunned his tongue had felt numb, like the words he wanted to say wouldn’t form, wouldn’t come, and what could he say when she had so obviously made up her mind? She looked him in the eyes and he realised her face looked different. Her expression was shuttered, he couldn’t see her the way he had used to, her glances at him seemed empty and closed-off. Where was the mischievous, beguiling woman he fell in love with?
He’d not wanted the time off work, he hadn’t wanted to organise a solicitor for himself. Weeks of negotiations, custody battles loomed overwhelming in front of him if he dared think of them. He’d wanted to act like nothing was happening, and, later, when she kept owling him and mithering him about getting “the proceedings for the divorce” in order, when she asked him politely but with a tone of command not to visit The Burrow for a while, as she was staying with her Mother until the divorce went through. When he found out she wanted over half of the things in their vault, a vault, which contained his inheritances from his parents and from Sirius and did not contain gold alone but other heirlooms and items of value. He wanted to go to work, to do paperwork, to look groomed and unconcerned- to show no more weakness to her, to salvage his pride, which she had crushed so easily. But then, he’d realised he’d have to face Ron, and he didn’t know how to face that yet.
He blocked his floo, Molly tried to contact him, as did Ron and Hermione, but it was apparent in their letters they had no words. He did not reply, he didn’t have anything to say either.
She sent Al and Lily to stay with Fleur and Bill whilst “things were sorted” but he insisted on having them visit, not wanting them to feel unwanted, not wanting to feel unwanted himself. They were quiet and solemn, and it made his heart ache to see them so. He felt relief when they were sent back, though, because every glance reminded him that she was leaving. James had to be told, and naturally he’d been the one sent to tell the lad, Madam Pomfrey had written saying ever since the boy had been distracted and troubled, Neville was keeping an eye on him. Pomfrey advised perhaps he should be sent home for a little while but he had to say no, and visit himself instead- he didn’t know where home was anymore.
When she took her things, he’d stayed and watched her pack. She’d been pale but her chin had been squared in fierce determination and she glared at him angrily even as he did nothing but watch her. It hurt to watch her leave, to watch as she packed away half their lives together with the flick of a wand, but he was filled chiefly with a sense of bitterness, covering over the desire to cry and plead with her. They squabbled over items, the signed poster of the 1962 Scottish Quidditch Team he’d won in a competition; he’d thought the photographs would be hardest, but she showed little interest in them, other than a few of the children. He wondered what had happened to the picture of their wedding day she’d kept with her, and realised he hadn’t seen it in several months.
He wandered around the house uselessly, looking at the empty spaces, registering the different smells. Kreacher followed after him, cleaning and putting the place to rights- finding new net curtains for the ones she’d taken, making sure he ate, washed, slept, shaved, had clean clothes. If he hadn’t been indebted to the elf before he certainly felt it now.
When he went back to work, no one said anything, but their eyes looked at him in sympathy for the most part- although he was sure quite a few of them speculated in the pub as to why Ginny had left him, whether he couldn’t satisfy her, whether his ability was lacking. He didn’t begrudge them this greatly, for all he felt the flush of humiliation at the thought; he’d been asking the same questions of himself.
Slowly, it took time, he began to realise that No, he probably didn’t satisfy her, but then, she’d not satisfied him for a long time either. Not in a simply sexual manner, he thought of times when she was too busy or too tired to listen to him when he was upset or worried about something, about the times when she brushed him off when he needed comfort- and the times she’d woken him at four a.m looking for comfort from her nightmares –and the times she’d made him sleep on the sofa for fear of his own bad dreams affecting her play in a game.
It hadn’t been perfect. It didn’t mean he hadn’t loved her, but now…she’d left. She’d ended it, decided that their relationship wasn’t worth enough to try and work through it. She hadn’t told him how she felt. She hadn’t given him the chance to talk it over- she hadn’t even given him any real reasons- and she had to have planned it, sorted out the divorce papers before telling him.
At least there were the children, they shared custody of them, but he felt he got the best deal- her schedule was too hectic for any equal division. They tiptoed around the subject of their mother around him, and he tried to make them feel better about it.
They would carry on. And it would get easier in time. He was sure of it.
Author's Notes: It could probably have done with a re-write: I wrote this at Uni whilst drinking absinthe (proper imported stuff, not the crap they sell in Trevor) and I haven't had chance to re-draft properly since. I'm hoping Ginny doesn't come across as demonised in this, I found it hard to avoid sounding nasty about her because I'm writing from Harry's perspective as 'the dumped', I tried to include some hints that he himself wasn't exactly perfect either and both of them contributed to the breakdown of the relationship, but of course his perspective in this is also meant to be very bitter and hurt, because he didn't see it coming...
Current Music: Sum 41- Waking up is hard to do
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Comments:
| From: | (Anonymous) |
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| Date: | December 27th, 2007 - 02:37 pm |
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Not a deadjournal user, I'm afraid, but lee_west/westwardlee at IJ and LJ, respectively.
Wow, what a raw - and realistic - portrayal of a breakup. Excellent work, and don't worry. It shows perfectly that this is Harry's view of the situation. I could certainly understand hers, too.
thank you :) I'm glad you liked it.
And don't worry about not being a dj user, hardly anyone is nowadays (I'm sure there used to be more of us....long, long ago ;)) and I never expect anyone to be, hence why I always allow anonymous comments.
Oh, I really liked this. I thought it worked well, and it didn't demonise Ginny - it was pretty balanced. Good job.
| From: | (Anonymous) |
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| Date: | December 27th, 2007 - 03:52 pm |
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Oh, I love that. It's just ... wonderful. Dark and rather miserable and raw and painful. Dear old Kreacher, helping him out like that. I like how Harry starts to accept things at the end and it all feels like it might work out. Absolutely terrific fic. (lyc)
*grins* Thanks :D
and yeah, Kreacher is lufferly. "For Master Regalus!" *sniff* :)
| From: | (Anonymous) |
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| Date: | December 27th, 2007 - 05:11 pm |
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Ginny and Ron die and Harry hooks up with Hermione after this, right?
Hee, wonderful writing, Mike ^_^
~Cally
If you like, dear, if you like ;) after all "Just because it's in your head doesn't mean it isn't real." :P
*grin*
| From: | (Anonymous) |
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| Date: | December 28th, 2007 - 03:47 am |
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(versipellis here) Ohhhh. Very realistic, very true-to-life, but I love how you got in so many canon details so that it feels HPish. And I thought that the bias against Ginny was just how Harry would be feeling ;_;
I think this is brilliant. It doesn't demonise anyone, it's just a divorce from the point of view of one very hurt person involved. Actually, a bit TOO real (*is suddenly faced with urge to go downstairs and cuddle husband very very tightly and not let him go*) - but in a good way. Well written, but scary. I don't want life to be like this!
I'm glad you liked and am very glad you thought it was realistic!
I'm sure you don't need to worry ^-^ life shouldn't be like this (though you may as well cuddle your husband anyway, I'm sure he'd appreciate the attention ;) ) |
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