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ladyofleithian
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, I mean the author no discomfort, and guys? Please enjoy. :)
Author's Notes: Trigger warning for domestic abuse, double standards, and prejudice towards fat people. (Beat) No, seriously. I'm going to need a lot of Bleepka when I'm through. :(
[INT. THE EBON HAWK MAIN HOLD -- NIGHT.
Everyone's sitting around the table, continuing to read the fic.]
ARAWN: Well...at least we're away from animal cruelty...for now?
BAO-DUR: I don't know about that. *Sighs* If anything, I think this is going to get worse.
ARAWN (teasing): Come on, Bao-Dur -- how could it possibly get worse?
(Beat)
BAO-DUR (dully): General...you really shouldn't have said that.
(A/N: Thanks for the positivity you guys! But I NEED REVIEWS DAMMIT! No reviews make me a sad panda 8o(
Also, thank you Raquelle you fabulous beta you!)
(Beat)
BAO-DUR: Well, at least she's...semi-polite?
ARAWN: I don't know. *Sighs* T3? Keep the drinks on standby. This is gonna suck.
Stout, portly Ginny Weasley looked down the stairs of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, a hairbrush in one hand and a stick of lipstick in the other. Clad in the yellow designer evening dress she insisted that Harry buy for her the last time they had visited Madame Malkin's, she called out to her husband.
"Harry? Is that you? Come here at once and help me tie this thing up! We're already late as it is!"
ARAWN (deadpan): One paragraph in and we've descended into clusterkriffery. Give it a round of applause!
Cue celebration with text saying, WORLD'S GREATEST CLUSTERF**K!
ARAWN: And now that the celebration's over, let's continue, shall we?
Harry, who had only just entered from a long day of counteracting curses and chasing down a particularly nasty Neo-Death Eater,
ARAWN: "Neo-Death Eater"? *Sighs* Looks like someone took the World War II references way the hell too far.
BAO-DUR: If it turns out that said Neo-Death Eater was a misogynist as well, I'm going to bang my head into a wall.
ATTON: Can I join you?
(Beat)
BAO-DUR: Sure, Atton. sighed and went up. Better to get it over with than having to deal with it any longer.
Ginny was already waiting for him in her bedroom (for she had always insisted on separate bedrooms), topless as the halter top of her dress hung at her waist.
ATTON: This makes How I Became Yours look like...um...Darths and Droids!
BAO-DUR (teasing): Bad comparison, Atton.
"What took you so long?" she whined. "I can understand arriving fashionably late but this is simply the limit!"
MICAL: Was being late ever fashionable?
ATTON (amused): You don't get out much, do you?
She turned. "Now, be a dear and tie this up, would you? Mary is already getting the children dressed. I still don't see why you had to dismiss that house-elf of yours. Kreacher would have been dead useful in dealing with the children."
ARAWN: In that damn-kids-get-off-my-lawn way.
Harry finally took his chance to speak in this rare moment of silence from Ginny. "I don't understand why we have to go to this party. I thought you hated the Malfoys."
"Of course I do! But they are the most fashionable and well-to-do family in the Wizarding World, and it would be simply uncouth not to go.
ARAWN (as Harry): How dare you try to be polite to the Malfoys! Why, if Hermione were here, she would have given Draco a totally-unprovoked-but-well-deserved-hexing --
Besides," she added with a wicked grin, "Malfoy's son is only a few years older than Lily, and I think they get along perfectly…"
Harry gritted his teeth. It was now or never. "Ginny, I want a divorce."
(Beat)
ATTON: What, for shipping one of your kids with one of the Malfoys' kids? That's a silly reason for divorce, isn't it?
MICAL: You'd be surprised, Rand.
Ginny stopped her chatter about what Lily and Scorpius' future children would look like. She stood there, her mouth open stupidly, as if unable to comprehend what had just happened. Finally, she spoke.
"Excuse me?"
Harry said again, this time with a little more assurance.
MICAL: Don't you mean --
ATTON: Just pretend it makes sense; it'll hurt less.
"Ginny, I want a divorce."
Ginny turned to him. By now, he had finished tying up the dress, and he couldn't see much of a difference from when the top was down. The halter consisted of solely of two narrow straps just wide enough to cover her nipples, while the skirt had two slits on either side leading up to the thighs. Everything else – her back, her midriff, her legs, and all around her breasts – was totally visible. And quite frankly, he wished it wasn't. Ever since Lily was born, Ginny had let herself go. Every time Harry tried to broach the subject, she would loudly proclaim that her eating habits were just fine, thank you, that Harry was being unfair and sexist in trying to make her lose weight, and did he really expect her to keep her Quidditch-toned figure after three children? So Harry had sat and watched silently as Ginny poured pancakes with bacon, steak and pork smothered in rich sauces, and a whole litany of desserts down her throat, and watched as it all went to her hips, her butt,
BGM: I like big butts and I cannot lie/You other brothers can't deny --
ARAWN: Shut up.
her thighs, and her stomach – but never, he thought bitterly, to her breasts.
(Beat)
ATTON: Okay, that's definitely a stupid reason for divorce. (Sighs) Sad part, that's probably the most in-character Harry will ever get...
ARAWN: No. Just no.
Now, the results finally showed. Ginny, in her yellow dress, was attempting to come of as a sex goddess, a red-haired bombshell, a smoldering sexpot right out of the dirty magazines his roommates had kept hidden back at Hogwarts. Instead, she came off as too much sausage stuffed into too little casing.
"Why?" Her eyes narrowed and her nose scrunched up in what was apparently a threatening look, but simply came off as her smelling something nasty.
Now that Harry had started, he realized he needed to finish. "I don't love you anymore. There's no point in staying married. We're, we're just like two roommates who don't get along very well."
ARAWN: Well -- at least he's trying to be tactful about it?
"Roommates!" Ginny shrieked, her hand flung out in a claw-like shape. For a moment Harry thought Ginny was going to hit him.
(Beat)
ARAWN: What.
But then, she apparently thought better of it, and dropped her hand. She walked towards him slowly, her voice now a low, seductive purr.
"I know what this is. This is just you taking that last little spat we had a little too far. Well, I have something that will definitely make you forget it, and you can have as much of it as you want…" She was now practically on top of him, pushing him towards the bed as she fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.
ATTON: Okay, this fic's really taking a...weird turn.
BAO-DUR (snarky): Now it's taking a weird turn?
Harry pushed her back. "That won't work Ginny. It might have worked when I was young and pent-up and full of hormones, but I know better now. I want a divorce."
Ginny backed up, her mind now switching to a different tactic. "Who is it? Who's the filthy slut that's put you up to this?"
Harry laughed, thinking it was awfully rich for Ginny to be calling anyone a "filthy slut."
ATTON: Your mother --
KREIA (sternly): Atton!
ATTON: Right. Sorry. *Sighs* He just gets under my skin. That's all.
"There isn't anyone else, Ginny. Just me telling you I want a divorce. Is that really so hard to believe?"
"It's Hermione, isn't it?" Her voice turned into a snarl. "It's that little Mudblood tramp, isn't it?"
Harry felt the blood rush to his face. He was already used to Ginny's pureblood prejudice – her supposed commitment to equal rights during the days of Dumbledore's Army had been nothing more than mere posturing, all in the hopes of capturing his attention –
ARAWN: Be right back -- nose bleeding from this fail --
She runs off to the bathroom to find a piece of toilet paper to stop the bleeding.
ATTON (sarcastically, as if to fic): Great! You broke her! I hope you're happy!
but the fact that she had brought up Hermione's name made him see red.
"It has nothing to do with Hermione and all to do with you," he finally replied, struggling to keep his voice down for the children's sake. They already were getting an earful every other night; there was no need for them to hear any more.
"Of course it has to do with Hermione! I saw the way you looked at her back at Hogwarts – I knew you still had feelings for her, and you still had the audacity to marry me –"
"I did not have any feelings for her when I married her and I certainly don't now!" Harry shouted back, though he realized more and more what a blatant lie this was. Hermione never would have gone to a party at the Malfoys, no matter how rich or influential they were. Hermione never would have worn such a downright whorish dress to any kind of party. And Hermione would never have turned into the selfish, shrieking, harridan that now stood before him.
ARAWN (O.S., sarcastic): Because Hermione's just perfect in every way. (Beat) Seriously, kriff this fic. Kriff it.
BAO-DUR: Good to have you back, General.
Everyone at the table gives a standing ovation as Arawn returns, still dabbing at her bleeding nose, and sits down.
"Yes you do! Don't lie! You'd better get over it because she isn't yours anymore; she's Ron's, just like you're mine –"
ATTON (queasy): Can we speed this up? Please?
Ron. At the sheer mention of his name, Harry felt his hand tense, ready to slap her. He resisted.
"Hermione is her own person – she can't be owned by anyone, just like I can't be owned by you."
"Bullshit!"
(Beat)
MICAL (amused): Don't you mean "rubbish"?
ATTON: Just pretend that was actual British slang -- it'll hurt less.
Ginny's voice now reached earsplitting levels. "You've always wanted what Ron had, you always had to be famous, always the big hero!"
ATTON (as Harry): I thought you liked the heroic types?
"That's not true and you know it!" Harry roared back. Whatever considerable hatred he felt towards Ginny was now targeted tenfold at that complete arse Ronald Weasley, who could never do a damn thing on his own even now as an Auror, who never, never appreciated Hermione the way he did. And now, Hermione was putting up with his lies, his insecurity, his inability to even do something as simple as tie his own shoes without hurling insults at her, and the thought filled him with white-hot fury.
ATTON (sarcastic): Because everyone knows that Ronald Bilius Weasley is nothing but a Psychopathic Manchild. (Beat) 'Scuse me a minute...
He picks up a pillow that Bao-Dur dropped in the middle of the room in his rush, and screams Angrish into it so loud that Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala hear it from Tatooine.
Ginny's voice came to him from a distance, dimly shouting about all the ridiculous ways he had demeaned Ron and the rest of her family, but he no longer cared. Harry could only focus on the smug smirking face of Ron on his wedding day, while Hermione stood beside him with a frozen grin on her face. He should have stood up there, should have shouted his objection like the hero of some romantic Muggle movie, and carried her out of the church and away from them all.
MICAL: Wouldn't you have been arrested?
ATTON (having recovered from his Angrish fit): Just pretend that made sense -- it'll hurt less.
But now, it was too late…
He couldn't hear Ginny's shrieking any longer, he could only feel his urge to reach out to whatever place that miserable waste of flesh Ron was, to strangle him, tear him apart…clear as day in his mind's eye, he could see Ron, feeling blow after blow on his wretched body as Harry sent curse after curse at him (there would be no ridiculous dealing of Experillamus), beating him to a bloody pulp.
ARAWN (deadpan): Our hero, ladies and gentlemen: a jealous, sexist little sonuvabitch who must inflict his misery on others.
"Harry, you listen to me!"
The slap fell hard against her check, sending her reeling back. She stopped her shrieking, rubbing her cheek in mute disbelief.
(Beat)
ARAWN: I should not use words.
Atton pats her hand reassuringly.
"Get out." Harry pointed towards the door. It was as if that slap had drained all the energy out of him, reducing his voice to a dull monotone.
ATTON: A bit of wood/And flint and stone --
BAO-DUR: I don't think that's how the poem goes.
ATTON (good-natured): Oh, bite me, Bao-Dur. It's better than going nuts.
"What?"
"Get out." He felt his energy and emotion returning to him. "I don't love you anymore and I don't want you anymore. Get out of my house."
Ginny sputtered. "You…you can't do this to me."
"I've already talked to my lawyer. The papers are drawn up and you can come to his office to sign them in the morning. In the meantime –" He drew out his wand and, with a few quick flicks, filled a suitcase with her clothes "– I want you to get out."
"I'll take the children," she hissed. "I'll sue for full custody of the children and I'll damn well make sure you never see them again."
ATTON: Consistency? What's that?
Harry laughed bitterly. Of course she would use the children as a weapon against him. It wasn't like she saw them as actual beings. "I've already gone over that with the lawyer. We put together a little portfolio of your behavior as a mother, and I don't think any judge in their right mind would let you near the children once they've taken a look through."
ARAWN: *Facepalms a la Jack Skellington*
"Why should you care about them? They're not even yours!" Ginny drew herself up, triumphant at finally playing the ace up her sleeve.
MICAL (as Harry): Well, technically --
Harry paused. "I know. And I don't care. Now get out."
Ginny, unable to speak, stood there slack-jawed. Harry could see her mind working slowly, trying to find one last argument to throw at him, but at long last she had run out of words to say.
ATTON (tentative, as Ginny): Um...your mother?
Finally, she went into the walk-in closet she had demanded Harry add to the room. A few minutes later she emerged, dressed sensibly for once.
She walked to the bed to take the suitcase, but couldn't resist one last attempt at melodrama.
ARAWN (as Harry): Because only my pain matters, dammit!
With a twist of her hand she took off her wedding ring (but not, he noticed, her gold engagement ring with the five-carat blue diamond) and threw it on the floor. She smirked at Harry, daring him to respond.
Wordlessly, he took off his own ring and dropped it on the floor beside hers.
As it finally sunk in that he no longer wanted her, the smirk on her face faded. Struggling to keep her pride, she grabbed the suitcase and her wand from the dresser, and walked out of the room. Harry listened as she stormed down the creaky stairs and, a moment later, the front door slammed.
ATTON: *Says nothing, but grabs a stiff juma from T3 and takes a swig* Oh, juma juice -- I drink to your health.
MICAL: For once, I agree with you. (Teasingly) Just don't let it go to your head, Atton.
