Broken Glass

4. What do you want me to say?

8th September 2018

Dear Gin,

Thank you for your update. Yes, I understand the sense of not coming back to the UK just to turn around and travel all the way back again. Wow! Two months is a long time to be away.

This next part is difficult to put into a letter but I really don't think it's good to wait until November to voice the issue which weighs heavily in my heart. I didn't want to do it this way but I feel we really need to talk openly about things, about us and our relationship. I don't think it's fair to continue the way we are or to keep postponing a long overdue conversation.

The truth is I'm not happy. I haven't been for a long time, if I'm honest. And I don't think you are either. I believe we face a crossroads: we can't continue as we are under a false pretence that all is paradise. We either need to drastically change something or we take a step back and consider whether we need to go our separate ways. I have made the decision not to go back to Ottery St Catchpole for the time being. The truth is, without you, James, Albus, and Lily, there is nothing for me in that house. It always was your home rather than mine. I am renovating Grimmauld Place and if we decide that we don't want to fight for our marriage, I shall move out permanently and you can keep the cottage so you have a base close to your parents.

If we separate, we shall, of course, need to discuss how we manage the kids, how they will split their time between us, where they will live, but there is plenty of time to sort out those arrangements. The important thing, now, is that we consider what is best of us as individuals. If needs be, I can arrange Portkeys to come out and meet you either in the Philippines or New Zealand.

I still love you. I always will. I hope you know that. And you are, above all else, one of my oldest friends and the mother of my children: no one can take that away from either of us. There's isn't anyone else, you have always been my number one but it's time to pursue our happiness.

Much love and with the greatest regret to be writing such a letter,

Harry x

***

It had been a horrible day.

The morning wasn't so bad. He spent it in the grounds of the manor with Walter, the estate manager, and they'd spent the morning checking Wards on the Manor's perimeter after suspicions of poaching in the woods.

Draco had a morning shift so it wasn't until mid-afternoon that the two men went to Ottery St Catchpole. Harry hoped that he could slip in and out without drawing attention to his presence but there was no such luck when it came to anything that Harry did. It appeared that Molly had set up a Ward that warned her as soon as he came back. Within five minutes both Ron and Mione stepped through the Floo into the cottage.

'Harry! Harry, where are you?' Mione's voice echoed through the rooms. And when she found him, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. 'Look at you. What's happened? You didn't answer my Owls, we've been so worried and Molly's beside herself, and now Teddy—'

'Woah, Mione...' Ron interrupted. 'Give the man some breathing space. You alright, mate?' He clapped Harry on the back, towering over him. 'Draco,' he nodded at the blond man. 'Shall we get a cup of tea?'

'What's happened with Teddy?' Harry asked. 'You said something about Teddy—'

'Oh, he's fine,' said Mione, having released an uncomfortable-looking Draco from a hug. 'He's up at The Burrow, came here last night and couldn't find you. They've all been turfed out of the Student Halls, Erkling infestation and Health and Safety shut it down.'