Muddying the Waters
Didn’t they realize the silencing charm, in its own way, spoke louder and more succinctly than anything else they could have done or said? She lay under the sheets and listened to the quiet as it doubled and tripled and increased in volume around her.
She should end this. Bring a close to the stalemate that had lasted these many months. They knew she knew, and she knew they knew, but no one had ever said.
She’d no idea how long it had been going on before she’d first seen Malfoy’s car stopped in front of the house. The fact that Malfoy had a car was in itself a bit of a shock. What she’d seen in the car had been even more of one. But had it been, really? Hadn’t she always suspected, if not actually known?
Standing at their bedroom window, looking down onto the car, she’d been surprised to see Malfoy’s hair shimmer silver in the moon light. Alone, his head was laid back against the seat, as if he was resting or taking a quick nap even. His eyelids fluttered in the light of the street lamp and his mouth was opened slightly. The very tip of his tongue rested on the bottom lip. As she stood at the window, he bit his lip and placed his hands on the steering wheel; gripping it as if in fear that it might come off and fly away.
The tension on the wheel increased until she thought it would break into pieces. Then he released it, and one hand moved into his lap. Seconds later, Harry’s, her Harry’s, head rose from Malfoy’s lap. The kiss they exchanged was longer and from where she watched, sweeter and more tender than any she and Harry had shared in months.
She never mentioned that night to Harry, yet somehow she was sure he knew. The next few days and weeks even, he’d been even more attentive to her and the children. As if he wanted to her to know, she and the family still mattered to him. His lovemaking was whatever she wanted it to be, soft and tender passion, or harsh and brutal fucking. For the first time in their marriage she was the one in control in their bed.
The first time she’d gone down on him, after he’d spent the evening with Malfoy, she could smell the other on him, the rich and decaying thick scent of arse, lube and come. Cleaning charms cleaned the surface but the musky scent of the other lingered. Wanting to prove that she could do anything Malfoy could do; she’d begged Harry to take her that way. Harry had refused.
“It’ll be too painful for you; I’m not going to do that. There’s no need.” He rubbed small circles around her nipples and asked, “Why do you think I’d want to fuck your arse? Why would I want that when I’ve this?” His hand caressed her mound.
“I doubt you’re worried about that when it’s… ” She quipped then stopped, terrified she’d said too much.
Harry had only looked at her, his love shining in his eyes; then pulled her close, whispering those words of love: “Come here, my beautiful Ginny, my gorgeous wife. Have I told you lately how very much I love you? You’re my everything; you and the kids. As long as I’ve you, I’ll never want for anything else."
He’d kissed her then, the kiss making her forget, as he worked his way down her body, kissing and licking every inch between her mouth and her cunt. When he arrived there, he’d separated her folds and kissed and penetrated her with his fingers and tongue until she spasmed her release and sobbed. Whether they’d been tears of joy or pain she didn’t know. Some of each she’d imagined.
From that day on, she always knew when he’d been with Malfoy; still unable to form the word Draco, even in her mind. Harry’s love-making and gentleness with her and the children were always the signal. He was happier; peacefulness surrounded him, which was missing at other times. Yet still they never spoke of it. Of course there were also those days when he’d come home angry and frustrated. Malfoy could do that to a person. That she could see. Yet Harry always seemed to forgive the other.
For weeks after that first time, Malfoy remained in the car and Harry with him. She watched them from the window. Night after night they talked, laughed and then kissed, as she stood her silent vigil. Their kisses growing deeper, until only one head could be seen and she knew there was more. But one day she looked and they were gone. The car was empty. That was when she first noticed the unnatural quiet of the silencing charms.
Interesting thing about silencing charms, they silence things and events as well as other people. The first time she’d stood in that doorway, seeing their faces had been the most beautiful and painful thing she’d ever seen. She’d stood at the bottom of the stairs, tucked into the shadows.
It would not have mattered if she'd entered tap dancing with sparklers in her hair. They had eyes and ears only for the other. So tender were Malfoy’s hands on her husband; she wanted to cry. Had she ever touched Harry with that much love? She could not remember. She did not know.
Harry’s answering smile to that touch had been slow and rose from somewhere deep within him. Rose from a place he had rarely, if ever, shown to her. The smile said, “I trust you. I give myself to you.”
Unable to watch anymore, knowing what she now knew, Ginny had turned and methodically made her way back up the stairs.
Hours later Harry came to bed and made to wake her when his fingers stroked the inside of her thighs and pressed their way into the moist depths of her pussy. But she had not been asleep. As he turned her over on to her back and mounted her, again he had said the words. The words he always said after having been with the other. “I love you my beautiful and perfect Ginny.”
As she came, tears spilled from her eyes. When he asked her what was wrong, she could only cry and say, “I love you so much, Harry. Please never leave me.”
His laugher was soft and his eyes brilliant as he said, “as if I could ever leave you, never, ever in a thousand years. You’re my Ginevra, my wife, the mother of my children. You are and always will be my love.” Sensing her need, he made love to her three more times before morning, each time making sure she came again and again. Never thinking of his own pleasure, but hers alone.
Weeks passed before the deep and abiding silence of the charm once again invaded their home. She chose, this time, not to leave the sanctuary of their bed. Again Harry showered her with love and affection, making love to her until she cried. Again, with joy or sorrow she could not tell; her emotions at war with one another.
The times between grew shorter and shorter, until the silencing charm permeated their home weekly, if not more.
James awoke during one of those times, asking why it was so quiet. It scared him. Gently folding him into her arms, his chubby four year old body warm and smelling of soap, she’d rocked him back to sleep. Words of love and comfort and safety whispered in his ears as she did. She hoped his fears would not awaken his brother. Albus fed off every emotion of his brother’s, and was far too young to understand what it was he was feeling. .
After that she again began to go downstairs. A gentle sleep charm assured the children would sleep until morning. Quietly she would make her way down the steps and across the way to Harry’s study. Each time her intention was to confront them. To tell them what she knew. To explain to Harry how what he was doing was affecting his children. But each time as she watched them, the words caught in her mouth, then throat and then in her heart.
He looked so happy. She loved him so much. She could not take this from him. Neither she nor the children were being harmed. Instead the benefits they reaped were many.
The first time she had watched them in an intimate embrace, had been the most beautiful and erotic thing she had ever seen. She had expected it to be obscene, to disgust her. It had not.
Harry, on his knees in front of Malfoy, his mouth opened wide as he placed his lips around Malfoy’s cock. The cock slid deeper and deeper into her husband’s mouth toward the back of his throat. She watched as Malfoy’s fingers slid into Harry’s dark locks tugging through them until they gripped hard, holding Harry’s head in place until Malfoy threw his head back and came. Harry swallowed and swallowed; his Adam’s apple moving with each swallow, as he held the other’s hips in place until he was sure there could not be anything left in Malfoy.
That night she did not wait for Harry to approach her, but rolled over and straddled him. Impaling his cock in her she rode him as her lust and love drove her to completion in a matter of minutes. When they were finished, she moved up his body and placed her cunt in front of his mouth, where he licked and sucked every bit of his come that had just filled her along with the juices of her own pleasure until his mouth and chin were smeared with it all.
The next morning he took the two boys to Diagon Alley allowing her a long missed lie-in. A plate of homemade raspberry scones and a pot of Earl Grey tea, her favourite, under a warming spell waited on the table for her. A vase of pinks fresh from their garden was placed in small old fashioned mug beside them. Their scent, fresh and flowery, wafted through the kitchen, beside the smell of fresh baked goods.
Each time after that she stole her way down the stairs and stood in the door of Harry’s study growing wet with desire as their lovemaking grew more emotional. It did not cause her grief; instead she soon found she was unable to stop from touching herself.
So great did her need and desire become, that she could no longer wait for Harry to come to bed. She began to pleasure herself. On the night she watched as Harry’s fingers disappeared into Draco, watched as the nails she had trimmed and filed and buffed for him, slid and out of Draco, watched Harry’s look of bliss at being able to bring such pleasure to another.
Remembering the pleasure those same five digits brought her, the need to touch herself had overcome her. Barely able to make it to the landing she had fingers of one hand deep into her pussy, as the thumb stroked and caressed her clit. She had screamed her release grateful for the silencing charm, fearful that otherwise her shouts would have awoken the children, as well as alerted the others to her presence. She was not yet ready to bring her knowledge of them out into the open. Although she knew, Harry already knew.
Harry’s only response to her already wet and dripping cunt was to smile his beautiful and quirky smile and push deep into her, fucking her slow and steady, pulling orgasm after orgasm from her. Her throat burned the next morning from the number of times she had gasped out her pleasure during the night.
The day after she’d watched Malfoy penetrate her husband as Harry had lain on his back and spread his legs, lifting them and bending the knees as he held them open and spread over the crook of his elbows -- the looks of ecstasy that had crossed his face and the cries of pleasure as Malfoy fucked him that she could see but not hear –she had gone to an adult sex toy store and purchased a slender dildo for her own use. She wanted to know the feeling of something as it penetrated her arse. She wanted to know what it was that Harry found so pleasurable in that. She soon learned; it wasn’t the what, but the who.
Three days later, she awoke again to the silence. This time staying in the room until Harry came to her. When he entered the room, she handed the dildo to him. He said nothing, only raised his eyebrows, and asked, “You or me?”
And she had answered, “Me.”
After that night she was unable to smell the scent of sandalwood without remembering the feeling of Harry’s fingers, in a part of her they had never been, as well as the feeling of the initial burn of the dildo, slicked and greased with the scented lube he had used as he had pushed it into her. This would take some adjusting to, but she would learn if this was what it took to keep him.
How long they could have or would have continued she is unable to say. But the day came when she knew it was time for her to speak.
During the many times she had watched and observed, Harry and Malfoy had never spoken of their feelings. There was no need. The depth of their caring for one another was clear in their eyes and in their touch.
Then she had heard Malfoy speak, “Harry, how long are we going to continue this way?”
“As long as we must,” had been Harry’s strange and cryptic reply.
Draco had turned and looked away, his hurt and frustration evident. She had never seen this and it broke her heart. Whatever arguments the two of them had, she had never been privy to them, and she knew they had to have a lot, people did, especially these two. She could not allow them to lose one another.
It was time for her to make her presence, and her knowledge of their relationship known. Even more she knew she needed to let them know she accepted it. . There was no desire to separate them; she only wanted to share in it.
She moved out of the shadows and stepped into the room. They both turned and looked at her. Harry held out his hand and Draco smiled at her. Draco was no longer such a difficult name for her to think, knowing what she intended for the next few hours.
Placing her hand in Harry’s she allowed him to lead her into the room. She gave him the smile that she knew he loved, but then turned away from him. Her arms wove around the back of Malfoy’s neck and she stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his, opening it as she did. She nibbled on his bottom lip forcing him to open his as well. His arms went around her waist and he pulled her close, returning the kiss. It was deep and probing. Soon she found her breathing increased and she wanted more. A moan escaped from her, deep from within.
Arms encircled her from the back. Harry placing soft nibbling bites to the back of her neck, as Draco broke the kiss and bent down showering kisses on her neck and throat as he did. Open mouthed kisses dampened the front of her nightgown, as she felt the bottom it being pulled up around her waist from the back.
Lost in the sensation of Draco’s lips on her nipples, sucking and licking and biting through the soft silk of the gown that still covered them, she was only barely aware of Harry’s fingers probing her. But he knew just where to touch her. Soon she was mindless in sensation. Unable to move either forward or back, she simply allowed them to hold her steady as they brought her to the brink and over again and again.
Stimulated past the point of pleasure and desperate to be truly fucked, she pushed Draco away, but not too far. Without a thought or care he reached over to her and swept her off her feet and into his arms. Wordlessly he carried her towards the open doorway that led to the stairs. Once he’d reached the bottom of the stairs he paused, “Are you coming?”
The lights in the room behind them dimmed and Harry’s footsteps followed them up the stairs.
The end (maybe)