Harry Potter (twicelived) wrote in unloading_zone, @ 2010-09-06 09:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | harry potter, katie bell |
Who Harry and OPEN or closed
What drinkage. heavy drinkage
When mid-evening before the pub closes
Where the Pub
Rating low
Status incomplete or complete
Harry sat in the pub with his hand covering his mouth. He was shocked, and pissed off, and very deeply hurt. In the past hour, at the usual time when he sits down to see who is new, and any other updates on the island, Harry read a very mean, and very painful conversation between his wife and several other people. Most worrisome was her conversation with his children. The fact that she was calling Lavender a whore, and the whole conversation with Dean that was just beyond suspicious, barely made a blip on his radar.
He took a long pull off his beer. Three empty bottles sat beside him on the bar. His free hand went to his eye and whisked away moisture he refused to admit he was producing. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe the things his wife was saying to their children. Neither had been saying the nicest of things, but was a little respect that out of the question?
Albus and Lily had both tried, he knew, the moment they came to the island. He was there, and had really tried to welcome his grown up son and then his adult daughter when they arrived, just as he had done his wife. Ginny had been very standoffish from the start, and she hadn't allowed him to make excuses on her behalf. He desperately wanted to explain to them why Ginny was upset about having children she didn't know about, but respecting her wishes, he hadn’t told them until much later, after everything had started going to shit.
He wasn’t sure what he should do. He and Ginny were already separated. That had been a mutual agreement between the both of them when she expressed the desire to have an adventure, and Harry had no desire. It had just been a trial separation, but it was looking as if things might take a more permanent route shortly.
When James was born, Harry had taken one look at his newborn son, still pink and raw from the womb, and made an oath that no matter what he would protect his son from harm. He made the same promise to his other children, and after four years of parenting, he hadn’t had to make good on that promise until now. And the protection was against his wife.
He knew it wasn’t a physical protection the children needed, but an emotional one. Ginny was really hurting the kids with what she was saying, and he understood that Ginny was hurt herself, but there was no reason for her to act the way she was to the children. She was an adult. She needed to act like an adult instead of like the spoiled brat she was currently being. Harry hated thinking badly of his wife, but he had promised the children to never let them come to harm.
Anger boiled over, anger at the situation, anger at his wife, and anger that his best friends weren’t here to help him out. He really could use a shoulder to lean on, especially the one that Ron so often provided as he had an innate sense of why his sister did the things she did. And if Ron couldn’t figure it out, Hermione had an answer.
Rose, try as she might, had not helped matters. Calling him and his children selfish and disrespectful over the public journals had really not help. He realized not allowing Ginny to make her own apologies was not a smooth move on his part, but he was the one who had to be friends with these people. He had known them for the better part of two decades. He didn’t particularly wish to have to deal with people hating him because of his wife’s words and actions. They probably did hate him, but at least they knew he didn’t agree with what his wife was saying.
He just wished everything had kept private. He was grateful there was no newspaper on the island that would splash this information up in some scandalous tabloid print with his family’s picture on the front page. Unfortunately, everyone with a journal, everyone on the island, got to read the entire conversation from start to finish. He didn’t know which was worse, not being able to dispute the journals or having the entire bloody world speculate about his life.
He slammed the half empty beer bottle down on the counter and wiped the angry tears away again. Where was your best mate when you needed him?