Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

"Sometimes, our compass breaks

And our steady true north fades"

Sleeping At Last - West

James was crying. His cries, loud and insistent, were a proof enough of his discomfort into his father's arms. Harry was doing his best to calm his son, rocking him at a slow pace, the same rhythm that Ginny usually used to appease their one-year-old little boy. Many times, the Boy-Who-Lived had seen his wife doing this, whispering words full of love and care next to James' ear, kissing his cheek when the need to show him how loved he was overwhelmed her. But now, he was alone in the middle of the living room, James into his arms, Harry tried to push these memories aside, focusing his attention on his son.

"What do you want, Jamie? You've already eaten less than one hour ago," he sighed.

Deep inside, he wanted nothing more than hearing something coming from James' mouth, to hear him saying what he really wanted. But at one-year-old, James didn't seem to be able to say something more than "dada" or a succession of onomatopoeias of any sort.

Two months had passed since the last day Harry had seen James Sirius Potter. Two months spent abroad, far from his family, far from Ginny. He had surely thought that things would have changed during these months, but, to be honest, he wouldn't have thought that his life would have changed so drastically during his absence. It's one thing to take important decisions, the kind of decisions that could change your life forever; it's another thing to see that people other than you could be at the origin of these decisions.

Obviously tired of crying, James started to fall asleep, to Harry's great relief. Without making any sound, he went to the child's room and put him into his crib, gently caressing his face before leaving the bedroom. He pushed the door behind him, not totally closing it; he wanted to be sure to hear any sound that James could make.

Like a zombie, he returned into the living room, looking around as if he was trying to see if anything had changed during his absence. But everything seemed to be at the same place than before, nothing seemed to be new, awkwardly enough. The photo frames were showing the same pictures, the same scenes that Harry had lived in the past: his wedding with Ginny Weasley, the first day on Earth of James. Even his only picture of his parents' was still here, next to a picture of a proud James showing his first tooth.

Slowly, he took the picture that Molly had taken on his wedding day and sat on the sofa, his hands slightly shaking. Harry couldn't take off his eyes of Ginny, the most beautiful bride that he had ever seen. She was truly stunning, with her long and curly hair falling freely onto her shoulders enhanced with a few flowers, her white dress fitting perfectly and flattering her silhouette in the most elegant way. Next to his wife, Harry was gazing at her, and the young man noticed how in love he was at this exact moment. It was more than love, actually: he was under her spell, eyeing the redhead intently, as if he was scared to see her slip out of his hands at the spur of the moment.

And it was exactly what had just occurred.

XxX

"Is somebody home?," Harry asked in a loud voice when he closed the entrance door behind him.

It was something amazing to finally be home after two months abroad, searching for criminals of all kind. During these two months, he had wondered more than once if he would be able to see them again, if he would survive this. But in the end, the team of well-trained Aurors had done a perfect job, and here he was: at home.

It was hard to hold back his smile of pure joy: knowing that James and Ginny were that close was enough to make him forget everything about his tiredness, everything about his need to collapse onto a bed and to bury his head in a pillow.

"We are here," Ginny's thin voice came from the kitchen, alongside with James' incessant babbling.

Harry hadn't seen his little boy during two long months, and all that he wanted was to take him into his arms and to hug him against his chest. But he knew that he couldn't do this right away when he saw that James was currently eating, seated into his highchair. The green-eyed man walked toward the two loves of his life and tousle James' hair before bending over to give his wife a kiss. Ginny turned her head at the last moment, giving him her cheek instead of the lips that he had been craving since a long time.

"I was hoping for a better welcome to be honest," Harry muttered, not knowing if he had to laugh or not. Maybe that Ginny didn't want to show any sign of intimacy in front of James after all.

"I'm busy, Harry," Ginny sighed, giving another spoon of mashed potatoes to James.

"I'm going to put my bag into the bedroom then."

His wife nodded, visibly not interested by what he'd just said, and Harry headed to their bedroom, frowning. What could have happened during his absence for Ginny to be so distant? She was not this kind of woman, cold and obscure; on the contrary, she was a funny, caring, and friendly woman.

When he entered into their bedroom, the first thing that he noticed was the lack of shoes in front of the dressing-room, next to the bedroom. Usually, Ginny left her high-heels shoes there, much to Harry's dismay. Preoccupied, for a reason unknown to him, he went to the dressing-room, his heart beating faster into his chest. Swiftly, he opened the doors and saw that the wardrobe was empty. Well, it wasn't totally empty, since some of Harry's clothes were still hanging, his suits mostly.

For a second, Harry was sure that he forgot to breathe. Things were spinning in front of his eyes, and he couldn't help but remember about Ginny's cold attitude toward him when he had arrived, minutes prior.

What was happening?

Harry left the bedroom, his bag still into his right hand. When he returned into the kitchen, Ginny raised a surprise eyebrow.

"Weren't you supposed to put your bag into the bedroom?"

"Aren't your clothes supposed to still be in the dressing?," Harry retorted, not even knowing why he had said this at this exact moment. There were so many other ways to say it, so many other things that he had thought about, but among all of them, it was this sentence that his brain had wanted to say out loud.

The embarrassment that he had seen into Ginny's eyes at this moment should have been enough for Harry to understand that it was true, after all: she wanted to leave him.

Like in a dream, he looked at his wife while she was taking James from his highchair, and continued to do so when she put him into his playpen. When she turned to him, urging him to go into the living room in order to speak freely without being disturbed by James, Harry did what she was silently asking for, his right hand still clenched around the handle of his bag.

"What is going on? Do you plan to leave with James?," Harry suddenly asked in a hoarse voice when they were finally alone.

"Not at all!," Ginny retorted in a snap, her long and red hair falling on both sides of her face.

"Well, since you obviously packed your things, I thought–"

"I don't plan to leave with James," Ginny said in a calm voice, crossing her arms on her chest.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, visibly relieved by this answer.

"Then why did you pack your things? You scared me more than I can admit it, Ginny."

"I don't plan to leave with James," she repeated. "James is going to stay with you."

Harry's green eyes were wide open, and, if someone was closed enough, he could have heard his slow and deep breathing, contrasting with the stress that he was feeling inwardly. His bag falling at his feet made a loud sound, and Ginny almost jumped out of surprise. Harry blinked a few times, and the information seemed to eventually reach his brain. Ginny was leaving.

"You are leaving us," Harry said, his voice as steady as it could be in such an intense moment.

His eyes searched for hers, searched for a reason behind all of this. But Ginny looked down, her hands clenching on the fabric of her pale pink dress. Harry saw her biting her lower lip, like a child caught while doing a stupid thing.

"You ar–," Harry repeated once again, taking a step toward her.

"I am leaving, yes!," his wife cut him off, finally saying out loud what Harry had feared to hear since the beginning.

He fell onto the sofa, not searching for her eyes any longer: he had had her answer, after all. Both of them remained quiet, not wanting to put some words on the situation that they were currently living. Putting words onto it would be like making it real, and it was the last thing that Harry wanted at this exact moment.

More than five minutes passed, and, eventually, Ginny walked toward him and sat on the sofa next to him, taking care to put some distance between their two shaking bodies–but not for the same reasons. She breathed calmly, sometime hearing James babbling while playing with his toys, thinking about what she could say to Harry, to her husband. They had been married since three years, and she had thought about leaving more than once. Not because she didn't love him anymore, of course not. How could she stop loving someone as caring and gentle like Harry Potter? She had loved him since the first day, she had learned to know him even if the circumstances hadn't been ideal, and she had accepted to marry him when he had proposed, four years ago. She could almost remember the things that she had felt that day, the joy, the laugh, the tears. Harry had kissed her more than once this day, showing her how in love he was. Ginny had felt special since the day when Harry Potter had put his green and vivid eyes on her, and she had thought that he could give her the life that she had craved for since so long.

Harry had given her a child, a beautiful son of whom she was so proud of: James. His bright green eyes had been enough to make her yield, to make her put the things that she truly wanted aside during a year. But now, it wasn't enough any more.

"I've received an opportunity that I can't refuse, Harry," Ginny whispered, wondering if she should put her hand onto his knee, as a sign of understanding. Of course, she knew that what she was currently saying was despicable to Harry's eyes, but she had waited for so long into his shadow. At twenty-six year-old, she wanted to start something new, she wanted to be known by her own name, Ginny Weasley-Potter.

"What kind of... opportunity?," Harry managed to ask, even if he could feel that his throat was dry, dryer than it had never been in the past, despite all the things that he had went through since his younger years.

"The Holyhead Harpies are offering me a-year-training."

Quidditch. It had always been Quidditch to Ginny's eyes. Ironically enough, Harry had always thought that he would have been the one playing Quidditch between them, the one who would have a professional career as a Seeker. And here they were, sitting on a sofa, separated by a few inches, talking about Ginny's future career and departure.

Harry dared to give her a side-glance, even if, inwardly, he wanted to leave the room, to leave the house that they had taken so many time to find, the house where all their memories were gathered. He just wanted to run from this place, to forget about everything that had came from Ginny's mouth from the moment he had put his foot in his house; in their house.

"You accepted," Harry stated, knowing how impulsive Ginny could be sometime.

Her silence was an answer on its own.

"And what about James?," Harry went on, finally talkative, more than he thought he could be.

"James will be with you during this year. Look, Harry...," Ginny sighed. "I know how hard this decision must look like, I know that you are mad at m–"

"You know nothing, Ginny," Harry hissed, shaking his head. "You just decided to leave me, to leave us without even talking to me in the first place!"

"Would you have accepted it if I had asked you? I don't think so."

"You don't think so?!," he raised his voice. "You didn't even think about asking me my opinion about it. You just decided that it was your decision to make; you didn't think for a second that I would like to talk to you about it before you accept this training."

"And did you ask for my opinion when you decided to become an Auror?," Ginny snapped at him visibly irritated by his words.

"Are you serious here?"

"Of course I am. You decided to become an Auror, to risk your life twice a year, and I didn't have my word to say in this decision."

"I chose this career years ago, Ginny!," Harry shouted. "You decided to marry me despite this, and I think that it is enough for me to say that you weren't that reluctant to have an Auror as a husband."

He couldn't believe it. She could have reproached him many things; but this... This was the last thing that Harry would have thought about.

"But what about my dreams, Harry? I am doing a job that I hate, I am looking after James everyday because you are not here, you are never here," she started to shout at him, raising from the sofa. "I didn't think that my life would be like this when I married you, Harry Potter. I thought that you would be a supportive husband, in all my choices..."

"I would have done it if you had talked to me about it! You can't take this kind of decision alone, for heaven's sake, we are married and we have a son..."

"We have a son, yes, and I guess that it's now your turn to look after him," she continued in a softer voice. "I've already accepted, Harry. I'm leaving tomorrow."

Harry's breath was now erratic; he tried to calm down, gathering all the forces that he had left.

"Why tomorrow?," he asked, tired by this discussion that seemed to have no issue.

"I wanted to talk to you first," Ginny admitted, lowering her eyes not to meet his.

Harry couldn't help but let out a cynical laugh.

"It is so nice of you, Gin. Do you plan to come home on the weekends to see James, at least?," he asked, but he perfectly knew that it wasn't possible during a Quidditch professional training.

"I don't think so," she whispered, suddenly ashamed by her decision. "But I know that he'll be fine with you. And if you need something, my mum will be happy to help."

Harry ran a tired hand over his face, not embarrassed by his glasses any more: he had decided to wear contact lenses years ago.

"I see that I am the last person aware of this choice of yours. You've already thought about everything, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. But it's just a matter of a year."

"It's a year spent far from your son," Harry hissed. "You don't understand how hard is it to be far from your family, Ginny, and I hope that you're not going to regret it, I truly do."

She nodded, as if she wanted to show to him that yes, she knew exactly what she was leaving behind.

"I'm not giving up on my family... I'm not giving up on you," she muttered, taking a step toward him, her voice hoarse.

Harry shook his head and headed to the bedroom, not looking at her any longer.

"For now, I don't even want to talk to you, Ginny. I can't even... All that I'm asking you is to leave tonight. Say goodbye to James, and just... leave."

He closed the door behind him, taking care to magically lock the door, not wanting to see Ginny anymore. Her long and red mane, her bright brown eyes, her fleshy lips... She was all that he had ever wanted, and now, she was gone. Even if she said that she still wanted to be with him, he couldn't help but think that their relationship as he knew it was over, definitely over. How could he trust a woman who could take this kind of decisions without even talking about it with her husband in the first place?

When he heard the characteristic sound of the entrance door twenty minutes later, Harry decided that he had to take care of James. His son was crying, desperate after his mother's departure.

"We'll be fine, Jamie, everything will be fine," Harry whispered to his son's, kissing his forehead.

While doing so, he started to think about everything that he had to care of from this moment on. His job, James, the house...

He was now a single father.

This story has a strange history, really. It was supposed to be a Bill/Hermione; then a Draco/Hermione; for the first time, I didn't want to write a Severus/Hermione. I'm working on it since March, and I hope that you'll like it.

I plan to post a chapter/a week, and I hope that you'll be receptive to this story, which is my first attempt at Harmony. :)