Harry Potter 1. Comfort in a Bottle

It was tuesday evening. On the London Underground people shuffled awkwardly and noisily in and out of eachother. Most of them were middle aged muggles in skirts and suits, a good proportion of them yelling into their cellular phones or headsets.

Harry sat on the tube, in a dark common hoody, his face was hidden, buried behind a mugle magazine, watching one man in particular. This man was far over six foot tall, he sat in the seat next to a door, in a tailored black suit, topped with a long tweed robe. His face was long and slim, topped with lots of pale blonde scruffy hair, it contrasted creepily with his pale white skin, that was decorated with a burn, stretching diagonally from his left eye, over the curve of his bumpy nose fading on his right cheek.

_Any self respecting wizard can cure a scar,_ Harry thought to himself, turning a page in his magazine. The face of a middle aged comedian covered a double page spread and stared at him, Harry waited for him to move, then checked himself, remembering it was a muggle magazine.

The tube pulled away from it's current stop and started to it's next. Orange lights flashed in and out of the carriage and over the mans face, the reflected off his icy blue eyes and Harry had to blink to make sure his eyes didn't glaze over.

At the next stop just a few moments later, most of the people on the carriage got off, and few got on. When they pulled away there were no more then twelve people in the carrige, a few of whom looked pretty much asleep. The man made Harry jump when his hand moved to his pocket, Harry caught a glimpse of his wand, then the man pulled his cloak back over himself as the train stopped he strode out. Harry followed him cautiously.

The man sped up the escalators and turned into the next rail. There was only one other man here, and he walked straight past Harry and into the gift shop. Harry watched the pale skinned man, he stopped, and Harry quickly hid round the corner, not sure whether the man had saw him or not. When Harry glanced next the man was no longer on the platform. Creeping over to the track, Harry saw the light of a wand in the tunnel. Harry took out his own wand and followed the man, slipping down to the tracks silently, stalking his prey. Harry saw no way to light his wand without alerting the man, so he followed in the darkness, until he came across orange lights, they were dim at first, then they got so bright that Harry couldn't see, then everything blacked out. He lit his wand and saw the man he'd been following standing ten foot away from him, wand raised, pointing almost directly at Harry's chest.

"Hello Mr. Potter," the man said, flicking his wand so the whole tunnel was filled with white orbs, floating above their heads as makeshift lanterns.

"Bilgin," said Harry, nodding and pointing his wand back at his oponent. "Shall we go?" Harry asked sarcastically, blowing out the light from his wand.

"Don't be arrogant Mr Potter. You know just as well as I do that i'm not going anywhere. So you can just run back to your little department and tell them you gave it a good try."

Harry smiled sarcastically, circling the tunnel with Bilgin. In this light the man looked even creepier, his breathing had become huskier and more rushed, like he'd ran all this way. Bilgin opened his mouth to speak again but it had been a long time since Harry had bothered with foreplay, and he flicked his wand sending a stunning spell his way, Bilgin dodged and ran down the railway.

Harry was less than a foot from the end of his cape and set it on fire, Bilgin refused to take it off, and sent a stream of water behind him in an attempt to soak Harry and put out the fire, he did neither. Harry could feel vibrations reverberating under his feet, and could soon hear a tube on it's way.

"Expelliamus!" he yelled, knocking Bilgins and his wand to the floor, where he only just missed touching the track, Harry jumped on his back just as the tube appeared round the corner, like a snake breathing a thunderstorm. Harry closed his eyes and with a pop found himself and Bilgin in the reception of the Auror department at the Ministry of Magic, as they landed on the carpet Harry felt the breeze from the tube blow in his hair. He stood up, as Bilgin leant up on his arm, confused. Harry smiled sarcastcally and punched him, leaving the room as Kingesly Shacklebolt and around four other Aurors arrived and restrained the criminal.

As Harry swept down the hallway, no happier having completed his mission, he wanted to go home an find the bottle of Firewisky Hagrid had sent him for Christmas, to accompany the other eight billion presents he hadn't made use of, like Diggle's chess set, Kingesly's box of brandy soaked butter bombs, Regina Blackly's set of maroon cushion covers with matching candles, and that was nothing compared to the the "Fan mail", all the presents they sent him, he'd burnt most of them, he'd had about three bonfires in the middle of his appartment and only one call from the ministry, reminding him to keep the smoke dormant. It hadn't all been bad, a visit from Mr and Mrs Weasley, who invited him for dinner with the whole family, which he declined politely, lying and saying he felt unwell. Ron and Hermione had visited too, they also invited him to dinner, he'd declined again.

"Harry?" called a deep voice behind him. Harry turned to see Kingesly striding up the corridor speedily, his scarlet robes flowing behind him. He caught up and motioned him to carry on walking. "Well Harry, that was quite a show. You're the only Auror to ever find Saville in twenty years, let alone capture the bastard. Well done, i'll call you again when you're needed, thank you."

They were at the grand entrance, Harry pulled his coat around himself, the evening air was icy and cold, it didn't brighten his mood. "You're welcome Kingesly," Harry replied, pushing the door open. "Just make sure you hold on to him." With that Harry swept out the ministry, barging through the reporters and journalists that were already verbally battering him, all yelling at once, so even if he had planned to answer their questions he wouldn't be able to pick one apart from the other.

Harry's apartment was nothing like his bank balance would suggest. It consisted of one small living area, containing an old kahki couch Harry had found on the street and sterilised, a small television, complete with video player, and an old coffee table he'd come across in a muggle store, in was shuvved in the corner, piled high with books, papers and god knows what else. A small kitchen, with a crappy old cooker bewitched to look like a aga, a fridge that was constantly empty, and a toaster, which Harry was almost as fond of as the wine rack that he kept stacked with butter beer, firewisky, and some muggle drink called rum. There was a small single bedroom behind the living room, Harry rarely slept in it though, he was rather fond of drinking himself to sleep on the sofa, there was also a small bathroom leading off from the kitchen which he ended up sleeping in sometimes.

Harry kicked off his trainers and slouched on the sofa, finding a near empty bottle of firewisky behind him, he downed the dregs, chucked it in the overflowing wastebin and went to get another from the kitchen, as he pulled the cork off, his doorbell rang. He left the bottle and swung the door open to find Hermione standing there, smiling. "Harry!" she squealed, happy to see her friend. She wrapped her arms around him, and he patted her on the back.

"Hermione!" Harry greeted her halfheartedly, pulling her off and slamming the door. He was happy to see her of course, but he wasn't pleased with her expression when she saw the state of his apartment.

She groaned and frowned at desperately, "Harry, when are you going to start taking care of yourself?!" she asked, frustraited. "It takes two second to do an organisation spell, goodness me! Obviously you can't like living in this mess! How busy have you been, my! I bet the ministry is working you twenty four seven." She patted his arm and flicked her wand around the apartment. Books flew into piles, plant's that had toppled over stood up, the mud sliding back inside them, Harry's sofa cushions arranged themselves neatly, he watched all the moldy food from his fridge fly into a bin bag, and moaned mentally and slumped back on his sofa when he saw his firewisky fly back into the cupboard. In eight seconds his flat had been transformed, Hermione reached inside Harry's fridge and pulled out a dish that Harry had never seen before. "I sent this ahead," Hermione told him, heating the dish and handing it to him with a fork. Harry took it eagerly, just the smell told him it was lasagne and he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten.

"Goodness Harry, you're skin and bones! Thank god being an Auror has earned you some muscle otherwise you body would've combusted by now, are you going to force me to come here every day and feed you a home cooked meal?!" Hermione was stressing over him, she collapsed on the cushion next to him and buried her head in her hands.

"Hermione relax," Harry told her through a ridiculous mouthful of lasagne. " I'm alive, i'm healthy, i'm... happy." - he struggled with that last one - "I'm fine. Haven't you got enough to worry about without poking at me? Just chill out. How's Ron?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Ooh!" Hermione squealed, reaching inside her purse, she handed Harry an envelope. "He'd kill me if I forgot, tickets to the Annual Quidditch awards. Please say you'll come Harry, Molly and Arthur agreed to come just because Ron told them he had tickets for you. They're so excited. And of course Ron and I will be there. We haven't all been together in such a long time."

Harry slipped his finger in the envelope and ripped it open, pulling out two silver glittery tickets the size of an average photograph. The words "Annual Quidditch Awards" were plastered across the monstrosity, sliding across like a tacky sign outside a brothel, silohettes of quidditch players flew across randomly, waving and performing little loops before zooming off. Harry had never seen something so over the top in his life.

"Tickets?" Harry asked, flashing the two tickets that had been within the envelope at her.

"Ron thinks, you know, that you might wan't to bring a guest? If you want." Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "Ron thinks I have some girlfriend I haven't told you guys about doesn't he?" Harry asked tightly.

Hermione nodded, ashamed. Harry flicked the spare ticket onto her lap, "Don't bother, give it to someone else." he told her, tucking back into his lasagne. Hermione took it awkwardly, slipping it into her purse.

"Okay, well I better go, I still have some things left to pack.." Hermione told him,slinging herbag over her shoulder. "And Ron will be getting worried, I mean, I told him i'd be back over an hour ago, I mean, he's probably tried to owl me god knows how many times, you know how he worries.."

"Hermione!" Harry stopped her, getting a headache. "Packing? Why are you packing?"

"Moving in with Ron, Harry. You know, he asked me to move in over a year ago, I mean we only just found the right place, right on the corner of Canary Warf, you know where Lucifers Avenue is hidden? It's actually very leafy considering it's right in the middle of London, a few bad characters but Ron is charming the place as we speak... Ooh Ron! I have to go Harry," they both stood up, and with a swift kiss on the cheek, Hermione wished him goodbye and swept out of the room. Wading back into the kitchen for his precious firewisky, Harry noticed his need for it had increased as Hermione mentioned her perfect little life, and how little Harry had noticed was happening, Ron must've mentioned it at some point... that firewisky was looking better every second. Harry took a deep swig and collapsed back on his tattered sofa, tonight was gong to be a long one. He chucked his bottle across the now clean living room.

It was daylight when Harry felt his head hit his pillow, someone pulling his trousers off and settling him inside, before the goodbye and shaky pop that was Neville leaving, back to the Leaky Couldron to clean up Harry's sorrows.


	2. Broken Bones

The sky over the Holyhead Harpies homeground was blotted grey. The clouds layered from thirty feet to beyond what anyone could see, half the sky was white, fading to murky grey, to deep soulless black clouds that threatend to open apon the private match being played below.

Surrounding the pitch was a deep forest, impenetrable and invisible to the muggle eye, it stretched over thirteen miles of british farmland that continued oblivious to it's overshadowing company. The Harpies had chose this spot over sixty years ago, the stands were filled with people dressed in Orange mainly, they were all wrapped up against the threatening sky. The press stand was birsting at the seams, there hadn't been much drama for a long time with the Harpies, they were getting too good, the press were yearning for some action. Everyone cheered, happy to just be at the game, it was Harpies versus Tutshill Tornados, a long anticipated game between loyal fans.

Vitteroche had the quaffle. Her long blonde hair was in an imaculate ponytail, whipping round with her head as she twirled and swirved in and out of the other players on the pitch. Vitteroche was clearly one of the best female quidditch players in the league, from Holland, she was fluent in dutch, portugese and english. She frequently yelled things at her fellow players across the pitch in her native language, acheiving nothing for the Holyhead Harpies. They were after her, two players in blue by the names of Fitzcromby and Jubble. Ginny swept in underneath Vitteroche, who flicked the quaffle to her,confusing her stalkers, Ginny twisted her way round the surrounding pillars, throwing the quaffle twenty feet through the goalhoop of the far left, scoring ten points, she zoomed off back to her starting position ignoring the cheers and congradulations being thrown at her by her team.

"Vell dum Veeshly!" called the Harpies newest beater, Gayla Protitskii, beating away a bludger aiming for Ginny's left side. Protitskii was talented of course, but could barely speak a world of english.

Jubble was off, heading south towards the Harpies defending goal, Protitskii hit the bludger his way, missing his fat skull by only a hairs breath as he threw it to Baker, the quidditch poster boy for this year. Ginny and Vitteroche surrounded him rotating up and down, and just missing as he aimed the quaffle straight into the middle hoop of the goal, luckily it was intercepted by the Harpies kepper, Gabriella Jones, who whacked it into Ginny's grasp. She lobbed it to Russell who after less than three seconds of flying and dodging, lobbed it back, Ginny caught it just as a bludger hit her on the back, just above her shoulder blade. The pain gripped her instantly, stunning her and forcing her to lose control of her broom, which plummeted to the ground. With the world spinning round her like a wizard painting of colour, Ginny blacked out before she hit the cold, grassy ground.

"Don't bite your tongue Ginny," the healer, Penelope told her. She was a kind looking woman, with short, curly strawberry blond hair, hazel eyes and freckles. She was good at her job too, knowing who needs to be treated and how when tracking a match, practically ignoring the actual game. Ginny still didn't like her though, just the way she was always.. there, like some creepy stalker.

Ginny kept biting her tongue as Penelope poked and prodded her injured shoulder. "Ginny!" Penelope order, pulling her jaw, Ginny's mouth popped open and she perposely stuck her red tongue out for Penelope to see. Before sucking it back in at a sharp jab of pain from her shoulder.

They were in the Harpies changing rooms, an L-shaped room painted white with green skirting boards at the top and bottom of the room, the benches were also painted green. There was a line of Lockers along one wall, all Bright gold ,displaying the players name in white, alone with a white silohette of their faces, Ginny grimaced as hers waved at her before bounding off to talk with the other lockers.

The other players had left while she was unconscious, wishing her well and celebrating their victory. Gabrielle and Georgia agreed to meet her for lunch still, but went ahead to change their reservation, since Penelope had assured them she'd not be kept long.

"Hmm... that's what I thought..." Penelope muttered. Ginny cleared her throat impatiently, hurting herself in the process. "Miss Weasley," Penelope told her, reaching into her toolbox. "You managed to both dislocate your shoulder, break your collar bone and your upper arm. Quite an acheivement."

"Thankyou," Ginny sneered sarcastically. "How long will it take?"

Penelope smiled and yanked Ginny's arm upwards, Ginny yelled in pain and bit her tongue again. The whole world swam for a few seconds.

"Well that," said Penelope, "Took only a second, although painful, it will heal better rather than replacing it with magic. Once i'm done, it will taken your bones the rest of the afternoon to heal, since it wasn't a clean break. I heal it you can go to lunch."

Ginny sat uncomfortably for no more than ten minutes, drinking horrible potions and being poked and prodded. She wondered whether or not they'd won, Penelope had been with Ginny so she didn't know, which added to Ginny's now foul mood. Her quidditch robes were covered in blood, Penelope had helped her change into her jeans and t-shirt, which had pulled Ginny's arm in some wrong way or other, so they'd had to re-place it again. Once they were finished, she apparated to Diagon Alley, against Penelope's advice, once she had landed her whole arm was in crippling pain, as though having been squweezed through a small vortex. Ginny scrunched her eyes and bit her tongue, when she opened them, she saw Gabrielle and Georgia waving at her from "The Witches kitchen", she plastered a smile on her face before entering the crowded lunch room.

Diagon Alley was busy today, it was early october now, so it was mstly mums doing very early christmas shopping for their children. Ginny saw one in the robe shop, picking out another Hogwarts uniform for her child, Ginny could hear her talking to the assistant.

"... Set himself on fire he did..." she was saying. "You'd think they'd keep spare robes up there, but no... had to borrow his friends... Ridiculous!... Next size up dear, his last owl said he'd had a growth spurt..."

"Ginny!" Gabby greeted her, jumping up and hugging her good side, away from the arm in a bandage, Georgia did the same. "How are you?" they both asked at the same time, all three girls smiled and giggled at that before Ginny answered.

"I'm fine," she told them, sitting down. "Fixed in no time, i'll be able to take this thing off by the time I go to bed."

Both girls nodded in satisfaction. "Speaking of bed...How's Greg?" Georgia asked.

Ginny's boyfriend of seven months, was Gregory Aldo, well known new reporter for the Daily Prophet. He was tall, about six foot seven, with a long black ponytail and neat goatie. He had a charming manor and smile, he got on very well with Ginny's mother, and most people he met. Ginny and Greg looked wierd together, which always made him laugh, Ginny being five foot five, with a short red bob of hair (it used to flow past her thighs, but five years ago she'd had the urge to get rid of it all in a spurt of anger, she couldn't be bothered to bring it back), and not many people found her that charming. Ginny wasn't the most verbose person, whenever they went out Ginny usually hid behind Greg's thick shoulders sipping shots of a drink called Orokta, similar to the muggle drink Vodka. Greg found Ginny's nervous, stony manor the cutest thing in the world, everytime he looked at her, Ginny could tell he loved her with all his heart, which usually made Ginny scutter off for more Orokta.

"He's fine," Ginny laughed." The prophet suits him."

"Good good..." All three girls were silent, smiling, absentmindedly picking up their menu's.

"So what's good here Weasley?" Gabby asked. "Come on, you picked this joint." Ginny smiled.

* * *

The Weasleys still lived at the burrow, the only people left were Ginny and her parents. Ginny would have moved out a long time ago if it wern't for her father being a bit uncontrollable in his old age, Mr and Mrs Weasley liked having Ginny there though, they missed being surrounded by all their noisy children. Ginny sometimes came home and found them cuddled up on the sofa, crying, missing their children, she was proud of herself for staying with them.

When she arrived home that evening, the lights were on from the kitchen, and she heard some familiar laughs echoing through the house. She open the kitchen door to see her parents, accompanied by her brother Ron, and his girlfriend of five years, Hermione.

"Ginny!" Hermione squealed happily as she saw her. She jumped up from the table and crushed Ginny in a bone tight hug, Ginny was happy her arm had healed before she got home, Hermione would go all healer on her if she'd known. She missed Hermione, not remembering when she last saw her. "Hermione, how have you been?" she asked.

"Oh wonderful Ginny, for once everythings going to plan!"

"I resent that.." Ron called from the table. He beckoned Ginny over and leant and gave her a hug. "How ya been?" he asked, Ginny didn't like the way he seemed to recognise something wrong, the way Hermione did. They both saw in her what no one else did, it made her uncomfortable. Ginny shuffled over and sat in between her parents, kissing them both on the cheek. "I'm fine." she said sharply.

Hermione smiled, as did Ron. "A friend of mine told me you have a wee accident today.."

"Accident?" piped up Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley looked alarmed. "Ginny? What accident?"

Ginny scowled at Ron. "Nothing mum," she said. "I just fell off my broom..."

"Uh, no." said Ron. "That dear sister, would be codswallop. Ginny got hit by a bludger.." - Ginny bit her tongue again, tempted to punch her brother in the head - ".. on her back. She dislocated her shoulder, and broke her arm in about twelve places." Mrs Weasley breathed in sharply and began her inevitable fussing, Ginny's father just patted her on the head, rather roughly.

About ten minutes after Ginny arrived dinner was served, Mrs Weasley had made stew and dumplings, because it was Mr Weasley's favourite. Everyone ate and soon forgot about Ginny's "accident" after she assured them she was completely fine.

Watching her brother, Ginny saw how happy he was. He and Hermione sat less than a few inches apart, and everytime one of his arms wasn't in use he would wrap it round her shoulder, she would snuggle up to him comfortably, elated. Hermione watched his mouth as he spoke, seeming to marvel at every silable, every now and then she'd smile to herself, giggling with delight at Ron's every action. Ginny was so happy for her best friend and her brother, but to Ginny it was too sickly to was, a bittersweet union that made her chest feel like it was imploding. She kept her attention on her dumplings for most of the meal.

"Ooh Ginny," said Ron, during desert (pumpkin pie). "Have you got you're tickets for the awards yet?" he asked.

"Awards?" Ginny asked dumbly.

"International Quidditch awards dear, tickets..."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I got my ticket a month ago," she replied absentmindedly.

"Well that's good, because I had a spare so I owled it to Greg, I figured you'd only get one, players usually do," Ron said pleasantly. Ginny smiled rather than tell him she'd been offered two tickets and chose to take one. "Thank you," she said.

"Ginny," Hermione said excitedly. "We need to go shopping! We'll get dresses and things, I have so much to get, Ron needs dress robes, he set his on fire the other day" - Ginny was reminded of the child she heard the mother in Diagon Alley speak of, she smiled - " And we haven't been shopping in ages. Molly, you come too..."

Hermione carried on, chatting about what they needed, Molly declined to come because she had a dress for the awards and she needed to stay home and "clean", Ginny agreed, looking forward to it, she missed spending time with Hermione. It had been over a year ago they'd last been shopping, and that was because they'd bumped into eachother accidentally. Ginny needed quidditch things anyway, Hermione loved dressing up, Ginny would've gone to the awards in tracky bottoms if she'd been allowed. Greg was coming aswell, which Ginny wasn't sure whether she liked or not, but this meant that she would have to be dolled up to the max if she wanted to stop the headlines slating her and embarrassing him as they had so many times.

"Yeah Weasley," Ron laughed, throwing a napkin at Ginny, "You're gunna have to show some skin to make up for the fact that your team will win no awards," he told her. Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. Ginny smiled evily.

"Ooh Weasley," she said, her mood brightening. "That's sounds like fighting talk."

Ron motioned her to come closer, "Come and get it _Ginerva_. Hit me with your best shot."

Ginny smiled and reaching behind her, threw a bread roll at Ron's head before it hit Ron square in the face she apparated to the other side of the room and ran away up the stairs. Ron ran after her, jumping on her back as they both got to the first floor, they both tumbled backwards down the stairs, Ginny landing ontop of Ron on the kitchen floor. She laughed, "Let's hope you coach better than you fight Ron..." she told him, pouting her lip. "Or poor Won Won will have to eat his words." She climbed off him just as Hermione stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. "We better go Ron," she said, pulling him up off the floor. "Before you two kill eachother."

Ron smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist, squwinting slightly as his head swam, he hugged his mum and dad goodnight. "Bye Ron," said Mrs Weasley, tearing up, but she hid it well. Mr Weasley waved pleasantly, he didn't talk much these days, but he made the effort to get up and hug them both. Ginny suprised herself by being so upset they were leaving, and she never used to get upset. She plastered her famous smile across her face and hugged them both, Hermione promising their shopping trip. "See you baby sis," Ron whispered as she wrapped her arms tightly round his neck, her big brother made her feel all warm and safe. "Bye Won Won," she whispered.

Ron and Hermione left with big smiles on their faces, apparating as they got to the gate at the end of Weasley's long, overgrown, memory-filled garden.


	3. Shopping in London

Ginny was walking down the high street on a Saturday morning. It was a lovely day, the sky was a deep clear blue with the odd cotton wool cloud bobbing across it, there was just enough of a breeze for Ginny to not get looks for wearing her hoody, and shockingly, most of the muggles looked happy for once.

London had changed a lot since Ginny was young. Even on the cheaper, grubbier end of London in which Ginny was strolling down most buildings were made of glass and steel. Pubs looked like clubs, clubs look like raves, Ginny had gone to a muggle band rave a few years ago, but she'd blocked that memory out of her head, it was enough to make her chew her arm off.

A short woman scuttled past with her four… No wait, five children. She looked very haggard and moody, she reminded Ginny of the Ghoul in her friend Millicent's loft, which was basically an old hag that enjoyed screaming. The woman slipped past Ginny and Ginny stepped away from her, trying to be discreet in her disgust of this woman, which she knew was totally unjust and unfair, _Who cares_, she thought. _Life's not fair_.

"Ginny!" called an excited voice as Ginny rounded the corner. Hermione was stood outside the Leaky Cauldron (which had been charmed so that it looked like an old warehouse now that pubs were out of fashion), Ginny smiled and waved at her friend. As usual just seeing Hermione had brightened her usually sullen mood, but still, Ginny was determined to have fun today, which would probably be easier than she thought once she wasn't alone.

"Hello you..." Hermione greeted her, while hugging her tightly. "How have you been?"

"I'm fine," Ginny assured her, sensing actual worry in Hermione's voice. "How's my sod of a big brother?"

"He's alive and kicking," Hermione laughed. She stuck her arm out, "Shall we off then?" she asked in a very English voice.

Ginny smiled. "Of course," Ginny replied in an equally English voice. "What on earth did you expect us to do? Stand here all day and banter?"

Both girls giggled and strolled into the abandoned warehouse on their left. The pub inside still looked as it had for the past eighty years, even if it had new owners. The room was still completely black from head to toe, with small black round tables and chairs, as well as the old tattered benches that surrounded most of the walls. The Leaky Cauldron wasn't too full, just a few men in the corner, and one or two couples lazing about.

Hannah Abbott waved at them from behind the bar, she'd had a bit of a make over since she'd been at Hogwarts with Ginny and Hermione, she now reminded Ginny of the famous Madam Rosmerta, the Landlady of The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, whom Ron had once had a crush on. She didn't mention it to Hermione though, she'd always hated Madam Rosmerta.

"Hey guys!" Hannah greeted them as they came up to the bar.

"Hey Hannah," Hermione smiled. "How are you? How's Neville?"

"I'm fine and so is he, he still manages to come home every weekend now." Hannah told them happily. "He loves that job too, he's so grateful for your recommendation Hermione, said it made him sound smart." All three women giggled.

"Well, they'd have a job finding a better Herboligy teacher in the whole of England," Hermione announced. "So really, it would've been a sin for me not to."

The three girls (mainly two girls) chatted for another few minutes before Hermione and Ginny made their way out the back entrance, promising to be back in the pub for lunch. Hermione was unusually quiet as they stepped out of the bar, and through the back wall into Diagon Alley.

Hermione perked up as they stepped into Flourish and Blotts, after buying half they store she was in an impeccable mood, they stopped in the jewellers and Ginny pretended to be interested in a charm bracelet as she watched Hermione linger nervously over the engagement rings with an awkward look of longing on her rosy face. Ginny reminded herself to yell at Ron for not marrying Hermione yet, they were so wonderful together... in fact, now she thought about it, it was extremely strange. They'd been together... nearly five years. Wow. That was weird to think about. She chuckled silently to herself as she thought about their first kiss, in the middle of a war, with debry falling on their heads, they were with...

A spasm of pain shot through Ginny like she'd never felt before, in less than a second her whole body had crippled to the floor she was panting for air. It was as if someone had placed the cruciatus curse on her. She couldn't breathe, move, or speak, she was on her knees, her hand holding the sliver charm bracelet so tightly it was bleeding. And then it was over. She felt nothing except confusion and anger at herself. _'Never think!' _she mentally scolded. _'Never ever think of...'_

"Ginny?" Hermione asked leaning over her. "What're you doing on the floor?"

Ginny pulled herself up and placed the bracelet back in a fashion that hid the blood on it. Both girls left the shop slightly embarrassed with themselves. They wandered for a while chatting absentmindedly until they went back to The Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Hannah greeted them both excitedly and they sat and had lunch in the furthest corner from the bar so Hannah couldn't be distracted from work.

"It has been a while hasn't it..." Hannah laughed, passing them each a butter beer, Ginny thought it wise not to mention she'd much prefer a pint of firewisky. "I suppose you're both busy with your important jobs. I can never remember yours Hermione..."

"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Communications and translations Officer." Hermione told her in one breath. "It's a long title, but not a superior one."

"I always thought you would keep to becoming a healer after your training." Hannah told her.

"So did I, until I was faced with some aspects of the position that were a bit much for any wizard to handle, it was a bit much..."

Ginny laughed. "You mean it was gross," she demanded.

Hermione and Hannah laughed too, "Yep," Hermione agreed. "That's about it."

The girls talked for a while and Ginny shoved the occasional comment out of her mouth just to make sure she didn't feint, she was feeling extremely ill by the time the food came and forced it down her throat, happy that it seem to fill a whole. Ginny didn't eat much apart from with her parents, it was only thanks to her mother's huge meals that she still had flesh beneath her skin.

The Leaky Cauldron hadn't changed much really. There were a few younger faces these days, only because the ancient ones had died out and a small touch of colour in the newer paintings that floated on a few walls. The pub was still black from head to toe, with small black tables and stools, and a filthy carpet spread across the floor. That was how the patrons liked it.

"You do miss Neville don't you Hannah?" Hermione asked during desert (Spotted dick). Hannah had been talking about how happy Neville was for over twenty minutes. Ginny had her wand out and was carving smiley faces in her custard.

"Of course!" Hannah told her. "Why wouldn't I?"

Hermione laughed awkwardly. "You seem so happy with his being at Hogwarts, I wonder if you're missing him? I would've thought the life of the Wife of a Hogwarts Professor quite lonely..."

Hannah smiled a clearly fake smile before one of her barmaids tapped her on the shoulder and whispered something. "I have to go..." she told them conveniently. She hugged them both, "It was lovely to see you… both of you," she added quickly directing her attention to Ginny. "Bye." She scuttled away, the girls left their coins for the meal and slipped out into Diagon Alley again.

Ginny started laughing. It was a weird feeling, she didn't know why but she was. Hermione smiled and began laughing too. They only stopped when they walked into Quality Quidditch Supplies and Ginny was hounded by the shop staff and its customers.

"Oh my god," cried one small girl with blond pigtails. "It's Ginny Weasley!"

"Will you sign my head?" one boy asked shoving her a quill.

"Miss Weasley, it's a pleasure..."

"Your goal in the match against Lithuania..."

"Do you remember? Last week, may fifteenth? I sent you an owl..."

"Ginny..."

"Please, come this way Miss Weasley..."

"Miss Weasley, is your broom insured? I can give you a great price..."

"EVERYONE PLEASE!!!! LET MISS WEASLEY THROUGH! I'm so sorry Ma'am..."

"OH MY GOD!" A girl no older than five with long jet black hair clung to Ginny's ankle. "MINE MINE MINE!" she squealed. Hermione politely pulled the girl off and gave her to her mother before grabbing Ginny's sleeve and dragging her into the back room. The assistant was right behind them, after closing the curtains he smoothed his hair and turned to the two women. Ginny was sat on a box, her face expressionless. Hermione looked livid.

"So sorry Miss Weasley..." apologised the assistant Ginny knew as Basil. "If you wish, I will clear the shop this very moment." He reached for the curtains again.

"Basil, no," Ginny smiled. "Don't kick customers out, that's just... well frankly it's stupid. Just show me the stuff back here..."

"Miss Weasley, that is most unprofessional... please let me clear the store..."

Ginny and Basil argued for almost five minute before she yelled at him. It was hard enough having a squabbling crowd of strangers trying to attack you without having to deal with Basil's intense shop manners. When he left to collect the merchandise Hermione collapsed onto a box of tail polish.

"Wow," she muttered pulling out her wand and pointing it at the curtain. A few amber sparks poked out of it and she turned to Ginny whilst pocketing it. "He's annoying," she observed.

"True, but he doesn't ogle at me like everyone else."

"Not to your face."

Basil appeared then, and solemnly showed Ginny the new range of products for a chasers use. A lot of it was a load of crap, as Hermione's occasional scoffing pointed out, but Ginny managed to find a new set of gloves and some boots that she bought mainly because they were quite cute.

Ginny and Hermione had a lovely day together, Ginny couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much, or smiled even. Hermione and her had lots of fun trying on robes that they weren't planning to buy, they even left Diagon Alley for a few hours and shopped in some muggle shops, which Hermione knew her way round just as much.

They were back in Diagon Alley at around four, just as Hermione suggested they pick up a butter beer and head home, Ginny heard a familiar voice call her name above the crowd.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, discretely pulling Hermione back to the Leaky Cauldron, as if she hadn't heard anything, she really couldn't be bothered to talk to him, her feet hurt.

"Ginny!" Unfortunately Hermione heard it this time and stopped. Ginny plastered an unconvincing smile on her face before turning to greet her boyfriend.

He looked gorgeous of course, his dark hair shone dreamily in it's usual ponytail, almost a foot above all the others. He was wearing a navy t-shirt with a black shirt over the top, as he came out of the crowd Ginny saw his typical combats and trainers come into view, she didn't particularly like how he dressed. He was grinning at her though, she looked up at him and smiled back even more violently and painfully.

"Greg!" she greeted him airily, as if she was perfectly happy to see him.

"Ginny," he greeted her, swallowing awkwardly so his adams apple bounced up and down. "Hi Hermione!"

Hermione smiled and announced she had to be going.

"Oh no!" Greg insisted. _Oh no! _Ginny insisted mentally. "Don't leave on my account!" he told Hermione. "I was just coming over to say hi."

"I was just heading off anyway." Hermione smiled tightly. Ginny noted a smudge of irritation towards Greg, this made her smile. She hugged Ginny and Greg in turn and headed off speedily towards the pub as a bright flashed blinded Ginny.

"Bugger off!" Greg yelled, he pulled Ginny down a alleyway heading off to another part of London, it went through a deserted building site so few people used it. "Bloody Skeeter..." Greg muttered as they headed into central London.

"Greg?" Ginny asked pointedly, slipping her arm from his grasp. "Where are we going?"

Greg seemed to have forgotten she was there, Ginny noted he was sweating, he never sweat unless he was extremely stressed. "Greg, what's wrong?" she asked guardedly, her hand automatically flying to the wand in her pocket.

Greg chuckled and ruffled her hair (she hated it when he did that), "Nothing Gin, just had a stressful day at work, do you mind going for a quick walk with me? Please? I just... need some peace."

"Sure." He grabbed Ginny's hand again and before Ginny knew it she was being squeezed through a tight hole that sucked all the air from her under inflated lungs, all her bones fell apart inside her, she was drowning and trapped at the bottom of the ocean...

"Greg, where are we?"

They'd apparated to a very Grassy place, there were lots of flowers and trees surrounding them and very few people. _Well it is getting dark_, Ginny thought. The sky was decorated every single shade of pink, lilac and orange, it was very pretty, Greg was right in front of her, although he still looked like a silhouette. The scene was very beautiful.

"It's Hyde park GInny, you know that." Greg led her under the Willow trees and stopped, leaning back and putting his hands over his face.

"Oh yeah..." She could see the water now, reflecting the sky. She walked over and leant against the banisters, leaning so far that all of her hair fell over the top of her head, she pulled the hair band out and shook it violently, she gazed at the water in wonder.

"Ginny."

Ginny whipped her head up and spun round, leaving herself with head rushing and big hair, she was surprised to see Greg standing right behind her, she smiled awkwardly. She was very confused when he suddenly knelt down, his eyes all gooey.

Ginny caught sight of the little box in his hand and a million emotion crashed into her at once, she was so angry, she wanted to cry, she wanted to laugh... she wanted to die. She hid all of this and kept her face straight, leaning back against the railings to stop from buckling or possibly throwing herself over. She just stood there, straight faced, in shock.

"Ginny, I love you so much... Will you marry me?"


	4. At the office

It had been hard recently, for Harry to bother coming into work. Every morning, when he woke up (around eleven-ish) he felt so exhausted and sick that he could scarcely sit up, let alone walk, talk eat... be. People had all decided he was "exciting" and "dangerous", so he got away with it. Harry was sure if anyone else had shown his behaviour they would've been followed up, warned and or probably fired, but Kingsley could never fire "The Chosen One" could he?

People nodded curtly at Harry as he slouched through the entrance hall of the Ministry, it had changed a lot in the past few years. Everything was now a deep blue marble, from the walls, to fireplaces, to the floor, to the ceiling. The large fountain was still there, but now the statue was different, it showed a muggle man and a witch with their heads together (as if about to kiss), a centaur behind them, grinning happily on its hind legs, and a house elf sat of the floor, covered in socks, with one on each ear, and wearing a t-shirt (the house elf was edited to look free after Hermione had finally had the law passed to free all house elves, which of course upset them, until they were told they could still work, but they could just leave if they wanted to). Harry had to admit he preferred this statue to the old one, it still didn't brighten his mood as he left the entrance hall into the foyer, where many witches and wizards (and paper planes) were boarding elevators.

"Potter!" Harry didn't need to turn to know who it was. It was the same nasal voice he heard practically every time he entered the Ministry on those hideous paperwork days that were the bane of his existence. Harry stepped into the lift and grimaced as Walter Puckwart strode in next to him. Walter was a man of little interest. He stood only five foot five, with tiny beady eyes, crooked teeth, a slight hunchback and a very disfigured nose from all the people who had punched him over the years. Walter stared at Harry eagerly, Harry nodded curtly at him before the elevator slides closed and the lift swept downwards. Harry did not like Walter at all, he was inconsiderate, rude, callous and seemed to believe that his opinion was the most important opinion anyone could ever possibly wish to hear. In his attempt to get to harry he had squeezed into the elevator, crushing two young, pretty witches into the corner and standing on a large, old man's cloak. He was receiving dirty looks from the whole elevator.

"Did you get the prophet this morning potter?" Walter asked.

"No," Harry told him shortly.

"Ooh! Then you haven't heard about the incident with Slimworth? Or Skeeter's boy getting a promotion? Surely..."

"Walter," Harry stopped him, before his whiney, slimy voice melted Harry's brain. "As you might've guessed I'm on my way to the office right now, where, as you know, the prophet will be waiting for me. Don't ruin the surprise." As Harry finished speaking the lift stopped at the auror department and he stepped out, ignoring the giggling girls in the elevator and Walter's retort. In order to get to his office (Harry had been given his own office, even though he was no more important than the other aurors in the main office) he had to go through the main office, where all the department would either grunt about his lateness or greet him annoyingly joyfully. As the door swung open for him (it did that sometimes) he tried to speed through the office unnoticed, but was stopped by Darris, a nervous man who reminded Harry of a certain boy at Hogwarts who had a habit of following harry with a camera.

"H-Harry," he stuttered, wiping his overgrown brow. "Kingsley asked me t-to inform you of the m-meeting this afternoon.'" He looked at his watch, "Well, actually, it started three m-minutes ago."

Harry strode past him, calling back as he entered his office "Well I suppose since I'm already late, there's really no point in going."

To Harry's surprise, his assistant, Violet, was in his office when he entered. Violet was very pretty, she had long, curly red hair (Harry had always like red heads) that she always piled up gracefully on top of her head. Her face was heart shaped and she had big, round, turquoise eyes that made her look about seventeen, and a large patch of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was only five foot four, but always wore dangerous looking heels that made her just shorter than Harry, today they were sky blue, along with her frilly, flowery blouse that she had tucked into a pale grey skirt that went up just under her chest. Harry had always thought Violet was beautiful, but never cared, she was clever, friendly and scarily organised, always the perfect assistant. Harry noted that she was alphabetising his bookcase, she didn't notice him until he slammed the door closed behind him, making her squeal and jump. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Good afternoon Harry," she greeted him politely, picking up the books she dropped. Harry knew that most men would be watching her bend over, and that Ron would scold him for not doing so, but he ignored her and sat down at his desk, smiling when he saw the steaming butterbeer waiting in a tankard for him.

"Good afternoon Violet," Harry greeted her back, raising his tankard. "Thanks," he told her.

"It's what I'm here for," she smiled, flicking her wand at the door, to let another crate of books fly in and land on the end of Harry's desk, and closing the door afterwards.

"Why the books?" Harry asked, feeling the warm butterbeer soothe his achy throat.

"Parkinson got let go," Violet replied calmly. "So I thought you might as well have his books."

"Shouldn't the next Head of Department get them?"

"Yes." Violent leant over Harry and pulled a quill out, writing something on the margin of large, beige book. "What you haven't realised Harry, is that the reason almost everyone left you alone this morning, and that Kingsley wanted you at the meeting couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that you're the obvious choice for the job."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry scolded her grumpily.

"I never am." Violet crossed to the other side of the room, where the window lay and whipped the curtains open, letting a bright stream of sunlight pass through. "Not much time left of summer," she commented, leaving the room without saying good bye. Harry sat and drank his butterbeer before she strolled in again, not bothering to knock. "Pig just dropped this off," she told him, chucking a large package onto his desk and leaving.

Harry sat and stared at his newly filled bookcases for a while, reading the title of each book, when he got to "O" (_Oblivious Witches and Wizards who think they're fooling everyone when really we're watching them, but they don't know_) he got bored and leant over to his brown paper package, reading the card on the side.

_Mate, this was your original birthday present before I lost it and we bought you a new one. Thought you might like it, even if it is over a month late, see you soon, don't tell Hermione. Ron x_

Harry smiled and tore the package open slowly. It took him a second or two to realise it was a photo album, the picture of him, Ron and Hermione at the age of twelve on the front was the biggest clue. Harry smiled as he remembered his hogwarts years and began to flick through the album. It slowly showed him growing up, from first year, with his much rounder, cuter face, to sixth year, where he looked more rugged and stressed. Most pictures were of Harry when he wasn't looking, (Harry guessed many of them were once the work of one Colin Creevey), but there were the odd few taken by Mrs Weasley, Hermione etc. Harry smiled as the pictures entered his fifth year, there was a picture of him making a crude hand sign at Umbridge, which made him laugh. There were a few D.A pictures, of Harry strolling round the room watching his students (mainly Cho) and one of him laughing at Hermione sending Ron shooting across the room. The first and only picture of his sixth year knocked the breath out of him so hard that he dropped the book and knocked over his butterbeer, it had hurt more than he would've ever guessed to see it. He never thought of it, ever, so it hurt, his bones felt like he was being crushed under a boulder, his head pounded and his chest was trying to rip its way out of his body, screaming, fighting, he'd only ever felt so much pain once before, to this pain, the cruciatus curse was nothing.

"It's not fair!" he yelled, surprising himself. He stood up angrily and flipped his desk over, causing it to crash to the ground noisily, then he ripped apart the bookcases, pulling all the books off their shelves and lobbing them in every direction he could. He pulled the awards, the bouquets and the photo frames off his fireplace, one of them smashing his make believe window that he had the sudden urge to run at and punch, he tripped on his way and landed upside-down on the edge of his desk, his feet up in the air and his head smashing yet another photo frame. Just then his door opened the tiniest bit and a small paper plane flew in and landed on his chest, Harry groaned and opened it.

_Harry, Where the hell were you? I wanted you at that meeting, I'll be on my way to your office in five. _

Harry swore.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kingsley had been extremely angry, but had barely spoken a word as Harry sat there, feet on his desk (Harry reconstructed the room before Kingsley arrived) and stared at him pointlessly. Eventually the Minister had just stormed out, the expression on his face making it clear he would love nothing more than to curse Harry right there and then.

"Well that was interesting," Violet commented, coming into the room with a new tankard of butterbeer and placing it on Harry's desk, followed by the Prophet. "It's lucky you can get away with it."

Harry scowled at nothing in particular, "Yeah, lucky.Ú" he muttered, grabbing the prophet and hiding behind it. Harry noted that Violet stayed in his office for a little longer than necessary, pointedly straightening a few of the books in the bookcase before leaving them room, and Harry to his newspaper. Harry ignored all the normal news (as he always did) and headed for sports, hoping to have something to talk about with Ron in their next awkward meet. He noted that Ron's team had won nineteen out of twenty one matches that season. Harry turned to the back page and the words "**WEASLEY BLUDGERED" **caught his eye. He gulped as he read the name and the rest of the report, talking about how a certain Holyhead Harpie broke half her bones in one game. Harry's heart leaped in pain as the report drew no conclusion, saying whether she had actually died of internal bleeding (as it made out) or whether or not she was okay now. Harry noticed the report was the work of Peter Skeeter, the son of a woman he passionately despised for being exactly the same type of reporter as her son: Sneaky, weedy, and cruel. Harry couldn't help but pull out a piece of parchment and begin to write to Ron, just to check. His heart was beating frantically but he couldn't put the words down on paper. They felt so wrong. He took a different approach:

_Hey Ron,_

_I thought i'd just check on you, since there's some nonsense in the Quibbler about you being killed by a bludger, write back if you're not dead. Sorry if you are, Harry. _

Harry was sure he'd get an owl back to that, without seeming so obvious and he called in Violet and told her to get it owled to Ron ASAP. Meanwhile he paced his office, cracking his knuckles, re-reading the article over and over again until nearly an hour later Violet knocked on his door with a letter for him, Harry snatched it off her and ripped it open.

_Alright mate,_

_I'm not dead i'll have you know. Clearly the press is getting stories mixed up again. It was Ginny who got beaten during her game, but Hermione and I were at the Burrow that evening and by the time she got home she was already healed. So no one died, well not recently anyway. Hermione says to make sure you look smart for the Quidditch awards on Friday and to bring your ticket and to avoid Peter Skeeter. Ignore the press, they seem to have it out for the Weasleys this month, did you read the Prophet? Saying the Canons won nineteen out of twenty, we won all twenty matches! Sod 'em all, See ya, Ron and hermione, x_

Harry didn't want to think about the awards, he didn't want to think about the accident, he didn't want to think about Ron and Hermione, about work, about Violet, about his new books, about Peter Skeeter, or about kingsley. Harry didn't want to think, he wanted the painful ebbing that he'd been ignoring for the last five years to go away. He wanted to be abled to smile at passers by, he wanted to be able to enjoy his work, he wanted to have food in his fridge, Harry wanted his firewisky. So at five past four, he picked up his cloak and left the office, ignoring everyone who crossed his path.


	5. Arriving at the Awards

**SORRY IT'S SO SHORT! IT'S A FILLER CHAPTER! **

**JUST TO GET THE SCENE GOING.**

**SORRY IT'S A BIT RUBBISH.**

* * *

"By George! It's Harry Potter!"

"Harry!"

"HARRY!"

"Over here Potter!"

"HARRY!"

"Just a quick word Harry?!"

It was one of those autumn nights, where the sky should be black and dotted with thousands of tiny stars, but instead is a pale, icy grey due to the flowing clouds that melted across the sky, blocking any and every star from view. It hadn't rained yet, but Harry was sure it would. He had only just turned the corner into Masons Garden (One of the newer commercial wizarding areas of London) when people from two hundred yards away started screaming his name. Harry was disgusted to see a large, wide red carpet waiting for him, it's silky, rich material waiting to chuck him to the cameras like a helpless puppy. If people hadn't already noticed him he would've turned round, or ran to the back entrance, but it was too late now, he would just have to face the magic. Slowly he stepped forwards, not looking at anyone in particular, praying he could just walk inside without anyone managing to stop him, he wasn't so lucky.

"Where have you been hiding?"

Harry lifted his head from the ground and spotted the man voted Britain's most hated reporter and most unattractive man of 2001 standing before him. He was roughly the same height as Harry, if not a bit shorter. He was definitely skinnier than any woman Harry had ever met in his life. He wore skinny, purple trousers and a brown checkered shirt with a purple tie that made him look like a lanky five year old. His hair was short and straight, but instead of handing down from his head it pointed upwards, it was so completely flat that Harry didn't doubt you could balance a wine glass on top of his head. His face was as thin as his mothers had once been before she passed, his nose was fat and hooked, he had small, colourless eyes and thin wide lips that framed large, unnaturally white teeth that had to no one persons knowledge actually managed to produce a remotely attractive smile. He had somehow managed to separate himself from the throng of reporters that were being held back by fences on the side of the carpet.

In answer to the mans question, Harry said nothing.

"Harry Potter," the man greeted Harry, holding out a long, bony hand. Reluctantly Harry shook it. The man grimaced and continued. "Peter Skeeter here, just a few questions for you."

Harry frowned, remembering Hermione's advice "_Stay away from Peter Skeeter." _Harry listened to the man talk, and kept his guard up.

"Harry, we were just wondering where "The Chosen One" has been for the past few years? Surely you haven't been hiding from us?"

Harry coughed, "Well no, I've been working..."

"Aaah, so we're heard." Skeeter scribbled something on a pad and paper. Harry was glad quick quotes quills had been banned a few years ago, for he remembered his experiences with them. "Is it true the Head Auror spot has just opened up Harry?" Skeeter cocked his ugly head like a vulture, Harry flinched but said nothing. "Surely you've heard Harry? I mean you've probably already applied?"

"I uh... no." Harry mumbled, stepping away but Skeeter stepped in front of him.

"No?!" Skeeter giggled in a way that made Harry feel ill. "Well Harry Potter thinks he doesn't need to apply then?"

"No!" Harry told him, stepping round him. "I just... I don't want the job..."

"Right, because they already treat you better than the other Aurors don't they Harry? Got your own office haven't you? And your own assistant? Hmm, very interesting..."

Harry frowned, he really didn't care what Skeeter wrote but it had been a long time since he'd punched someone, the last time was Saville, who he'd caught nearly a month ago.

"One more question Harry..."

"No," Harry told him walking off.

"Harry!" Skeeter called, "Just tell us if you have a woman in your life!"

Harry froze then, feeling feint, sick, nauseous, dizzy and drowsy all in one second. He wanted to hurt Skeeter so much; How dare that creep try and ask Harry about women! How dare he enquire as to Harry's private life! Harry hadn't had a girlfriend since Hogwarts and didn't plan to, just the idea made him feel even more nauseous. Instead of beating all life and sense out of Skeeter, Harry breathed and made his way into the main building, praying this night would be over very very soon.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The awards room was possibly one of the biggest rooms Harry had ever been in in his entire life. It was about four times the size of the street outside in both height and width. The door from the lobby was on the far right of the back of the room, and the rest of the floor was covered with roughly a thousand round tables covered in silver table cloths. The ceiling was painted silver and had silohetted quidditch players shooting across it like the invitiations, the stage took up half the room, it was black, like the walls, and the podium in the middle was glass, with glittery quidditch players shooting across it. It was all very hideous.

"Harry!" called a familiar voice. "Harry! Over here!"

Harry saw a flash of orange at the front of the room and headed towards it, as he drew closer he recognised it as Ron, who'd been standing on his chair.

"Ron!" squealed Hermione, embarrassed. "Sit down!" As Ron sat down sheepishly she got up to greet Harry, she was wearing a long, peach coloured dress. "Hi Harry!" she laughed, seeing Ron's expression. Ron waved grumpily. Before Harry knew they were there, he felt a pair of arms round his neck that he hadn't felt for over four years, a pair of arms that had once mothered him more than any other pair of arms had before in his life. He chuckled and looked down to see a much older Mrs Weasley staring up at him. "Oh Harry!" she scolded him as he hugged her back. "It's been much too long!" She was wearing a long black dress with a frilly neck and sleeves, it suited her well, although Harry thought it was strange seeing her out of an apron, in fact, it was strange seeing her at all. Harry felt a pull on his sleeve and saw Mr Weasley sat down in the seat next to him, he looked haggard, his face was pale, and he's lost many stone since Harry had seen him last. Clearly he wasn't well in his old age.

"Harry," he croaked. "Harry Potter." Harry leant down and squeezed Mr Weasleys shoulder kindly. Before taking his seat between him and Hermione. There were two spare seats opposite him, but they had no placecards, so Harry ignored them.

"Harry, did you dodge that awful Peter Skeeter man?" Hermione asked when everyone had settled down.

"Nearly," Harry told her. "He left the throng to get to me though."

"Slimey tosser."

"Ronald!" scolded Hermione and Mrs Weasley at the same time. Hermione hit him playfully. "Don't be so foul Ron," she ordered.

Harry watched Ron and Hermione talk for over half an hour. It shocked him how little he thought about them these days, he remembered summers of waiting for their owls and praying to see them during the holidays. They looked good together Ron and Hermione. She was still shorter than him, even in heels, but Ron had always been lanky. As they'd grown up a bit more Ron had filled out, to an outsider he probably looked quite dangerous, Hermione's frizzy hair had calmed down a lot and was shorter. It now hung just below her shoulders in thick, shiny spirals. She wore make-up now, which surprised Harry. Hermione had always been very conservative, but she was beginning to get noticed in the Ministry and Harry guessed she was smartening up (not that she needed to).

"So Harry, how is work?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Not much happening really," Harry told her, wishing he had some exciting story to tell.

"Codswallop!" Ron chuckled. "Hermione told me about Saville."

"Bilgin Saville?" Mrs Weasley asked, looking both curious and scared.

Harry chuckled too. "I caught Saville ages ago Ron, and it wasn't very hard."

"You caught Bilgin Saville?" Mr Weasley asked.

"Yeah..." Harry mumbled, embarrassed.

"How?"

"I hit him with a train." The whole table burst into laughter.

"Trains?" Mr Weasley asked. "Harry how do trains work?"

"Well..."


	6. Colourful lights and Blackness

"I wish we didn't have to come..." Ginny moaned as she and Greg reached the red carpet outside the Awards building.

Greg wrapped his arm round her waist, chuckling. "It'll be over before it feels like it has started, don't worry." Greg kissed her forehead. "Just grin and bear it," he told her.

Ginny nodded. "Grin and bear it..." she muttered. "Just grin and bear it..."

Then everyone noticed them.

"OH MY GOSH! IT'S GINNY WEASLEY!"

"MISS WEASLEY!"

"GREGORY! GINNY!"

"Come on Aldo, a word for a mate!"

"MISS WEASLEY!"

"GINNY!"

"Ginny!"

"GREG!"

Ginny's eye widened and she turned round, but Greg chuckled and pulled her back to face the reporters, who were snapping away excitedly as the caught the couple. Ginny was wearing a dress Hermione had picked for her, she hadn't really looked at it, all she knew was that it was blue and revealing. She didn't care, she hated wearing dresses. She hated wearing make-up and having her hair transfigured back to it's original length(Gabrielle and Georgia had insisted on being her stylists all day, Ginny hadn't asked them to, or wanted them to, but they'd spent the whole day poking and prodding her, so she was not in the best of moods).

Of course Greg was dressed perfectly for the occasion, he wore black dress robes that made him look like he belonged on the red carpet, his hair was back in it's usual ponytail and his beard was trimmed to perfection. Every woman in the crowd was oggling him, wolf whistling and screaming his name, even if they had never seen him before, he looked like a god. Even with her make-over, Ginny still didn't compare.

"Smile..." Greg said through his teeth, plastering his charming-lovely-mummies-boy smile on his face. Ginny pulled out her usual grimace and stood with Greg for the reporters. She ignored their compliments and questions etc. just concentrating on the smile on her face, Greg pulled her close to him, he was warm, unlike the cold night. Conveniently she shivered giving Greg the excuse to pull off his jacket and drape it round her shoulders, smiling as he did so. Ginny groaned as all the reporters and screaming people "Awwed" them both. She hated being "Awwed", like some sort of stranded, helpless Kitten. She wanted to go inside, get drunk in the corner of the room and make Greg carry her home.

"Can we go in now?" Ginny whispered.

"Yeah," Greg whispered back in her ear. "Come on..."

"Wait right there!" They both turned round to see one Peter Skeeter sliding towards them over the red carpet. He was the only one rude enough to ignore the common etiquette of keeping to the sides. Ginny groaned again and went to turn away but Greg held her in place. "Grin and bear it.." he whispered again through gritted teeth. "Peter!" he chuckled slapping the skinny mongrel on the back hard enough to make him wince.

"Aaaw," Peter sniggered. "How are the happy couple?"

"Perfect," Ginny told him through gritted teeth.

"Good good." Peter scribbled something on his notebook. "Expecting any awards this evening Miss Weasley?"

"No."

"Good good. And how about your brother? Any awards expected?"

"Not a clue." Ginny replied, keeping her answers short. "I'm sure he'll tell me." Greg chuckled.

Peter sniffed. "Yes, I'm sure he will. How's the arm?"

"Fine." Ginny told him.

"Lovely, was it painful?" He asked.

"Yes." Ginny replied not bothering to lie.

"Wonderful..."

"Well peter," Gregory nodded politely. "We must go, we're already late."

"Bye," Ginny said, pulling Greg off across towards the door, Peter followed them. "So you've been a couple for over a year now," he told them. "Any big plans?"

"No," replied Ginny swiftly.

"Then what's that..?"

"Nothing!" Ginny pushed past him and pulled Greg into the lobby of the Awards building.

Greg chuckled again. "What was that about?" he asked.

"My family are waiting for us," Ginny told him, ignoring his question.

The ceremony began as Ginny and Greg entered the Awards Hall. Ginny couldn't see anything for all the flashing lights, but Greg grabbed her hand and dragged her through, laughing as they dodged flying beams of light. Ginny was laughing when she caught sight of Ron's hair and pointed it out to Greg, he laughed and grabbed Ginny round the waist, lifting her just off the floor until they were a few yards from the table.

"SHALL-I-TAKE-YOUR-COAT?" Greg yelled over all the noise. Ginny nodded and let him pull it off her shoulders. She smiled as she saw Hermione, she was whispering something to someone, the person whispered something back and Hermione threw her head back laughing, then Ginny saw him.

A cold, sickly feeling spread over her as she took in his face. It had been so long, but he hadn't changed much, just got rougher, more rugged. His jet black hair had got longer and stuck out in random directions, his skin was awfully pale and his eyes shone the brightest green she'd ever came across in her entire life. Her heart beat faster than she knew possible, she froze in pain as she felt the desperate pounding spread all over body. She felt like someone had just beaten her up, like snake venom was spreading down to her finger tips and trying the rip through the ends. She bit her tongue harder than normal and tasted blood sooner than she expected, she closed her eyes and swallowed, when she opened her eyes they set on him again, he was staring at her, their eyes locked and it was like a million passionate words were sang in one second, as if the whole room had stopped. Every light in the room seemed to dance for them, for that moment, everyone else was blacked out, there was no one but him and Ginny. Her body couldn't take it, her bones were crushing themselves, trying to compact Ginny into a small ball so she could never exist, so everything would go away.

That was around when she feinted.


	7. The War is over, now comes the hard part

_"Blimey... I can't believe it's actually all over."_

_It was just hours after Harry Potter, Boy wonder, had brought the ultimately feared Lord Voldemort to his demise, and after little visit to an old friend and a sandwich, Harry, Ron and Hermione had headed to bed, exhausted. All Harry wanted was a good old nap._

_Harry smiled in his half sleep as Ron tossed and turned beside him. They had too much adrenaline, too much excitement and mostly too much fear to sleep. Harry had been so completely exhausted, but now as he lay in the bed beside his best friend, in the knowledge that he'd just saved the entire world from damnation, he couldn't bring himself to sleep. _

_Harry propped himself up on his pillows, giving up the fight to force himself into consciousness, Ron did the same. "It is over though..." Harry mused._

_"Weird."_

_"I know..." Harry stared at the tall, stain glass window that hung over the dormitory. He knew from watching muggle television and reading books that this was supposed to be the part when the sun came out, when all the dark, merciless clouds were supposed to separate and disappear into their own little vortex of nothingness. But the sky still stormed charcoal above them, crashing and rumbling, as if begging for this not be the end, like some sort of bored muggle at the cinema who hadn't finished his popcorn yet. "I know it all fits, but it feels wrong. We wont have to be plotting against the most evil wizard known to man kind anymore." Both boys nodded solemnly._

_Ron snorted, making Harry jump. "Maybe we'll grow to miss Ol' Voldy," he chuckled. _

_Harry laughed, "When that day comes, please curse me to an oblivion."_

_"Okay." Ron laughed again. "But i'll have to ask Hermione first, other wise she'll be murder." Both boys went silent at the mention of Hermione. Ron and Hermione's new found (but destined) relationship would be a tricky subject for a while, despite it being so, Harry was much too tiered to both with being subtle. _

_"So," he chuckled, pulling out his wand and examining it. "You and Hermione..?"_

_"Yeah," Ron answered, sounding surprised, happy and scared all in one word. "It's going to be interesting."_

_"If worst comes to worst, you could always mention that you were one of the people who defeated Voldemort," Harry laughed, his throat tightening slightly._

_Ron laughed too, and seemed to float off into his own world, and Harry left him be, smiling as he thought of Ron and Hermione, and how there was absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind, that they would be perfect together, Harry imagined them kissing, living together, getting married, having children, growing old together and leaving the world together. Hermione's frizzy caramel hair would turn salt and pepper colours, she would age, with large wrinkles and losing a foot of height, but she would still be beautiful, imposing, intelligent and kind. Ron's hair would begin to bald like his fathers' and go white and wispy, he'd definitely gain a big old gut on him and spend most days in a chair while Hermione fussed over him. Harry knew he was right when he thought of them like this, soul mates, completely and utterly perfect._

_It was weird to think of any type of peaceful life. Harry wondered if he would be able to deal with normal life, with being abled to talk freely to anyone, and not worry about running from someone who wanted to kill him. Not wondering if he could trust someone at first sight would be strange. Harry couldn't imagine getting a job, getting a house, and having a family, it was too weird. He was almost angry as he realised that he'd missed out on his childhood really, spending eleven years as a child slave, and the next eight fearing for his life. He wanted to go back, and be young again, but properly this time._

_"She'll probably use that one against me mate," Ron mumbled, Harry was slightly annoyed to hear in Ron's voice that he was drifting off. "But i'll just hit her with a dragon..."_

_Harry counted to a hundred and heard Ron's deep snoring before he reached thirty, to his disappointment he still couldn't sleep, something was niggling on his mind. Was he afraid of having nightmares? No, his brain was intelligent enough not to scare him with things that couldn't happen. He lay down again and kept counting, at a thousand he gave up, hearing a quiet, ghostly knock on the door._

_She was beautiful even when she'd been crying. Her usually pale, freckly face was patchy red, her eyes raw with sleep deprivation and crying. She looked a lot smaller as she tiptoed into the boys common room, she'd traded her robes for a big black sweater and pyjama bottoms, she lifted her head to Harry's face and tried to smile timidly, but failed miserably. She glance at Ron and her mouth twitched slightly as she heard his deep, peaceful snores and flicked her deep red hair over her shoulder to kiss him on the cheek before tiptoeing over to Harry and sitting opposite him on the bed. She sat cross-legged, facing each other, both not knowing what to say. _

_"H-how are you?" Harry asked in a whisper, taking both Ginny's icy hands and wrapping his warm ones round them._

_"I'm fine," Ginny replied in a devastated whisper before bursting into silent tears and collapsing onto Harry's lap. Harry shuffled to get more comfortable and pulled Ginny onto his chest where she sobbed the night away until the night fell into day. The sky outside the dorm window was soon decorated with every shade of orange, and small sparks of pink and purple dotting up and down in cloud form, but harry and Ginny had fallen asleep before then. Wrapped in each others arms, no one dared disturb them (Not even Ron who was furious to find his sister sleeping in the same bed as Harry), they slept long after midday too, although Harry woke mid-afternoon, he just sat and watch Ginny's slow, whistling breathing, as she danced in the silence of her own, creative, beautiful, dreams._

_____________________________________________________________________________

_Harry and Ginny had been walking for nearly seven hours, and had finally given in to hunger. They'd walked through the forbidden forest, fearing nothing, and lay beside the black lake, before strolling round the grounds in almost complete silence, holding hands and basking in the mellow spring warmth of the pale, cloudy sky, that had flashes of blue sky tearing it's way through._

_"I wish I didn't have to eat," Ginny murmured as they headed back up to the castle._

_"Yeah, shame we're starving," Harry agreed._

_"When was the last time you ate?"_

_"That sandwich yesterday morning."_

_"Oh dear," Ginny unlinked her hand from Harry's and clung onto his arm, Harry smiled and wrapped his now free arm around her shoulders, enjoying how it seemed to slot into place perfectly, like the missing piece of a puzzle, "Come on then..." Ginny groaned, reaching the stone steps into the entrance hall. It was eerily silent, like everyone had finally decided to go to bed, or go home (which many people had), but Harry knew they were not alone in the silent castle, habit told him to reach for his wand, but Ginny had told him to leave it upstairs. He held Ginny tighter and they tiptoes into the entrance hall, where many people were waiting for them._

_"HARRY POTTER!" They all cheered, their cheers were followed by loud explosions and flashing lights. Harry hadn't been in anyone other than Ginny and Ron's company for two days, and he didn't expect a big welcoming party when he showed his head again. He was about to tell Ginny off for not mentioning it to him, until he noticed the equally flummoxed look on her face and laughed._

_Ron and Hermione ran towards him, holding hands. Hermione threw herself onto Harry in a bone-crushing hug. "How are you?" she asked worriedly, being her usual mothering self._

_"I'm fine," Harry assured her, his grip on Ginny tightening. "And you guys?"_

_"We're brilliant!" Ron chuckled. "Oi Harry, you have to come and see all the gifts people have sent you!"_

_"Gifts?" Harry asked, confused. Ron pointed behind him and Harry was overwhelmed to see a mound of presents touching the ceiling in the corner. It stretched and took over at least a quarter of the great hall and presents were magically appearing every other second. Both harry and Ginny stared at it in shock._

_"Harry dear!" Harry blinked and found Mrs Weasleys face just inches from him when his eyes opened. "You are all right Harry aren't you? Because if not we can make this all go away right now."_

_"It's fine Mrs Weasley," Harry assured her. "Maybe a bit too much but fine. Although I think some people might find it a bit disrespectful, considering how many people we lost..."_

_"Harry!" Hermione said, putting her hands on his shoulders. "We've spent years working towards this, you deserve some FUN. F.U.N. Granted people were lost, but I think that an acceptable replacement would be you finding yourself again, no matter how cheesy, ridiculous and impossible that sounds."_

_"Thanks Hermione," Harry nodded, but he pulled Ginny (who was being unusually quiet) to him and put his arm over her shoulders again. "But I don't want to find myself again, I've changed to much to become whoever the hell I used to be, but I think i'll like the new me, although both Harry's are telling me that this party thing is too much."_

_"Well come and join in when you're ready Harry," Mrs Weasley told him, tottering off to her husband in the corner. She was being perfectly kind, but Harry saw the look of dread, fear and depression on her face. The face of a mother who'd recently lost one of her children._

_"Harry, come and have a drink..." Ron suggested._

_"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU!?!?!" Ginny yelled out of nowhere, yanking Harry's arm off her shoulders. Harry knew Ginny had a temper and was very afraid of her when she was angry, he took a swift step away from her. "YOU'RE HAVING A PARTY! HOW COULD YOU BE SO INSENSITIVE?!?!" _

_Mrs Weasley came rushing over, tears in her eyes, "Ginny dear, come now...people are just relaxing..."_

_"MUM! FRED IS DEAD!" Ginny screamed, fresh tears rolling down her pale, freckled cheeks. Everyone in the room (especially the Weasleys) winced as she confirmed those three words they'd been trying not to think about for days. "HE'S GONE MUM...AND HE'S NEVER COMING BACK! AND YOU WANT TO THROW HARRY A PARTY! HOW COULD YOU BE SO BLOODY HORRIBLE!?!?"At those words, Ginny crashed to the floor crying, Harry fell beside her instantly and wrapped his arms around her. He didn't like girls crying, but he couldn't stay away from Ginny when she was in this state, she needed some sort of comfort, some ghostly, ebony love to prove to her that life was still worth living._

_In seconds Ginny was back up again, refusing to be weak, as she always did but she still cried. Harry stepped back, fearing what she would do next. "I want my big brother back..." she whispered. Mrs Weasley and Hermione were of course, both crying now and Mrs Weasley took a step towards Ginny, but Ginny stepped away from her. "Stay away from me!" she told her mother, Ron and Hermione stepped forward too as the rest of the Weasley clan (all that were living) crowded round. "Stay away from me! All of you!" she cried. Harry prayed that he could help, and so took one silent step towards Ginny. The world stopped for a second as Ginny stared at him then shook her head. "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" she yelled again, Harry stepped back, fearing he made things worse. "Especially you!" Ginny told him. "Just go away!" And with that she left the hall and Harry stood, and listened to her sobs until they were less than an echo in the wind._


	8. The pain of sight

Harry's heart stopped.

She was here. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't known his mind couldn't have possibly conjured something so beautiful. She was standing alone between the Weasley table and another opposite it, like some sort of goddess, her long, rich, red hair fell down to her hips, framing her heart-shaped, ivory, freckled face as it gaped at Harry. Harry stared at that face with such wonder that he felt his heart clench up in happiness. Her sapphire eyes shone brighter than ever, engulfing Harry's soul in one glance. They bored into Harry's for what felt like a millions years until he finally pulled himself away from them, only to notice the dress she wore. His jaw dropped. It was a beautiful sky blue, floor length, sleeveless gown, that floated behind her like some sort of lone ocean. The neckline was square, and seemed to be intent on enhancing her cleavage (which Harry tried desperately not to stare at), and from under her cleavage the dress just fell to the floor, it's only other detail being the large slit down the side of her right leg, which was much longer and attractive then Harry remembered. He had a hard time breathing as he stared at her, although she stood completely and utterly still, her beauty danced with the flashing lights like some sort of magic in itself. They bounced off her as if she were irresistible to them as well, Harry had never felt so much pain in his life as he stared. His hands began to shake violently and he felt his chest clawing away from the inside, as if some savage monster were inside, scraping its way towards her. He felt the tears prick at his eyes and didn't bother holding them back, he could barely breath and felt sick. He couldn't stop staring at her though, and it didn't help that she stared back. He watched her face, praying for some sort of emotion to fall apon it, anger, relief, annoyance, maybe even... no. It was too much to even dream of. Then her face did change, instead of moving, it fell, along with her body, and she went completely limp and fell to the floor.

"NO!" Harry yelled, but even he could barely hear himself over the noise. In a split second, before he even knew he was doing it, he flung himself across the table and ran as fast as he could to her. _Is this my punishment!?! _He yelled silently to some god somewhere. He caught her head just before it hit the ground and leant over her. "Ginny!" he whispered, tears flowing from his eyes. "Please!" He knew somewhere deep down that she was fine, but couldn't be rational while her eyes were closed. "Please Ginny! Talk to me!" He saw it in his minds eyes, her pale, cold, lifeless face in a coffin, looking much too beautiful. Harry knew better than anyone how it felt to lose people and all he could think was that he would lose her too, and he knew that would be the last straw, the bullet that would finally hit the target. Harry stared at her mouth intently, willing for a breath to leave it and after counting to five, one did and Ginny woke up, choking.

"Ginny?" said a male voice Harry didn't recognise. Harry ignored it until the man was leaning over Ginny also, ignoring Harry completely. He was wearing expensive, black robes that matched his long ponytail and weird goatee beard thingy that Harry thought was stupid. He leaned right over Ginny until their faces were almost touching, Harry felt his temper flare up inside him and he had a sudden urge to rip the mans throat out. "Ginny darling?" the man asked, worriedly, pulling her up, although she was still staring at Harry. "You passed out?" the man asked, worriedly. Harry really wanted to hurt him now, who did he think he was, calling her "Darling".

"Greg, I'm fine," Ginny told him shortly, letting him help her to her feet. Harry stumbled to his feet too, shocked at the sound of her voice, how it sounded exactly the same, but completely different. She sounded like... a woman. She wasn't a young girl anymore, she'd grown up and Harry couldn't help but find this even more attractive.

"Oi! What's going on?" asked Ron from the table. The lights had all cleared now, and a good few people were staring at Harry, Greg and Ginny. Harry was one of the many staring at Ginny.

"Nothing!" Ginny called, brushing herself down and pulling Greg over to her family, Harry could tell she was trying not to look at him, and it hurt. Harry felt his old demeanour fall back on top of him, but much worse this time round.

He went to head back to the Weasley table but tripped over something, Ginny's purse. He picked it up and moved it through his fingers, feeling the silky blue texture and wondering if Ginny's dress felt the same. Harry strolled back to the table, rubbing his eyes dry and passed Ginny her purse. She looked up at him and Harry's heart jumped again. "Thanks," she whispered, taking it from him. That was when Harry saw it, on the ring finger of her left hand, dancing in the clear light of the room, a large, diamond ring about the size of a marble.

___________________________________________________________________

"Married?" Mrs Weasley asked, shocked. "You're to be married?"

Ginny stared at her mother and nodded tightly. Greg was smiling charmingly with his arm round Ginny. Harry had over eighteen curses lined up for that arm, he kept visualising them over and over again in his head, praying for the moment he could use them for real. Ginny was definitely surprised by her mothers reaction, all her mother had ever wanted was for her children to be married and right then she seemed... disappointed. But the old woman reasserted herself and pasted a smile on her face. "Oh Ginny darling! That's so wonderful!" She pulled herself out of her seat and hugged both her daughter and her daughter's fiancé. "Arthur! Isn't it wonderful?!"

Harry switched his gaze to old Mr. Weasley and noticed for a few seconds how intelligent the man really was. He was sat watching his daughter, smiling happily and announcing what should've been happy news, but his eyes kept switching to Harry and then back to Ginny and Harry had a feeling the old man could tell the searing, fiery pain that was scraping casually at Harry's skin. Arthur nodded and smiled, blowing Ginny a kiss, and Harry noted the old man turning off the intelligent when he wanted to. That was when Harry realised that Mr. Weasley wasn't a bit mad in his old age at all, he was just... reserved.

The conversation slowly split around the table and the Weasleys began talking amongst themselves, Harry was tearing apart the napkin in his lap desperately, not taking his eyes from Ginny's hands, how they were too feminine, too slender and youthful to carry such an elaborate, ugly ring on them. Harry knew the ring that would suit that hand so wonderfully, it was in a draw back at his apartment, he'd bought it a long time ago, knowing it was perfect for her but he'd never got to put it into use.

"Can you believe it?" Hermione whispered to Harry, as the next award was being given. They were half way through the ceremony and Harry hadn't even watched one award.

Harry stared at Hermione, swallowing, he shook his head. "No," he replied, in a strained whisper. "No I can't"

Ron was staring at Harry and Hermione as if they were eighteen again, plotting something. Harry tried to smiled at his friend but failed miserably, ending up with a sort of desperate grimace. Harry wondered what life would be like now if he could redo being eighteen again, maybe more people would be sat round their table, maybe it would've been a different ring Ginny had on her finger.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley squealed, pointing up at the stage, where the host Howard Sprout was talking; "The next award, a prestigious and honourable award indeed, is "The Best Kept Team" award." Harry thought the award sounded stupid, but held his tongue. "The nominees are: Alberta Hitchcock as coach of the Ballycastle Bats. Stephen Stephanie as manager of Appleby Arrows. Oliver Wood, as coach for Puddlemere United and last but not least Ronald B. Weasley, as coach of the Chudley Canons." Harry was tearing at the napkin in his lap harder than ever, barely paying attention to the Awards, he saw Hermione squeeze Ron's knee in support and his bad mood increased as he saw Greg do the same to Ginny, then whisper something into her ear. Harry thought her beautiful face looked awkward, apparently Greg hadn't noticed.

"...And the Winner is... Ronald B. Weasley! For his coaching of the Chudley Canons, who are currently second place in the league! Farther than they've got in many years, their match tomorrow against Puddlemere United will determine their movement to the first place spot and after that Weasley only has to get them through five more matches until they qualify for the World Cup match final!" Everyone cheered, Ron went bright red and Hermione pulled him in and passionately kissed him hard on the lips. Mrs Weasley cheered proudly and was clapping harder than anyone else in the room, Mr. Weasley was clapping too and laughing randomly. Harry only remembered to clap himself when he saw Ron look at him and grin happily before heading up to the stage.

"Hi everyone..." Ron said into the microphone after Sprout gave him his award. "It's not that I didn't have speech prepared, it's just that my girlfriend said I had to write it without her and it was rubbish." - Hermione laughed - "So... I just want to say thanks to the team, who are really the best team in the league, no matter what anyone says and I have this gut feeling you'll be seeing us in that final"- A table in the corner cheered crudely and Harry guessed they were the Canons - "... and I know everyone says thanks to their family at this point but, to tell you the truth, I know my family have helped me and so do they, so there is no point. But there is one person who has kept me alive the past... god knows how many years. Hermione Granger, my girlfriend and my best friend. I just wanted to say... thanks, you know, for being the best girlfriend any guy could ever ask for."

It was all too much for Harry and Hermione. Harry's brain felt like it was going to explode with jealousy, he pushed back from the table and stormed out of the awards room as Hermione legged it up onto the stage and snogged Ron in front of over a hundred thousand people. Harry heard the clapping, cheering and wolf whistling from the lobby and he chucked himself into the toilets before anyone noticed he was missing.

The room seemed to spin as he entered it and he stumbled over the sinks, staring at himself in the mirror he saw someone else staring back. This man was clean shaven, his hair all in place and his eyes looked scarily green, his dress robes were neat and his whole body wasn't pulsing in pain. Harry grimaced at the man, who smiled back charmingly and that was when Harry lost it. "AAAAARGH!" He roared, smashing his fists into the mirrors, which didn't break, he stormed round the empty toilets punching kicking clawing at everything he could before collapsing into the toilet furthest from the entrance and threw up the contents of his stomach (which took longer than anyone would've thought, considering he'd barely eaten for five years).

The room was still spinning when he came around, he could taste the bile in his mouth and on his teeth and it made him feel even worse. It shocked him that the toilets were still immaculate considering he'd just beaten the crap out of them, and Harry realised they must have some sort of anti-damage spell on them, which made him angry. He pulled himself up off the floor and went to the sinks again, satisfied that the pale, sickly man in the mirror now looked like him Harry put his hands under the tap and chucked water over his face, trying to bring some life back into himself.

"Alrigh' mate?" asked Ron, coming in the door. Harry watched him in the unbreakable mirror: He looked beaming, happier than ever, Harry had the urge to hit him too, but stopped himself. _This is Ron! _Harry roared inside his head _You don't hate Ron!_

"Hey,"Harry mumbled, washing his face with yet more water. Ron disappeared in one of the stalls and came back out again in two minutes. Both men stood in silence over the sinks for over a minute.

"So..." Ron said nervously, ruffling his hair awkwardly. "Ginny and Greg..."

Just the words managed to pierce Harry a thousand times all over his body. "Yeah..." Harry agreed through gritted teeth.

"How are you?" Ron asked, still awkward and slightly scared.

"HOW AM I?" Harry roared, gripping the sink. "OH I'M FINE! JUST FINE!" Harry didn't care about some unbreakable charm, his anger caused him to roar and rip the sink away from the wall like some sort of animal. Ron yelped and fell backwards. "What in Merlin's name..?"

"I can't do it Ron!" Harry gasped, scared of his own strength as much as Ron was. "I'm sorry Ron but just... piss off and leave me alone!"

With that he ran out the bathroom, tripping over the broken sink and Ron as he did so and ran out the front entrance into the pummelling rain that hit him hard, but was nothing compared the the pummelling rain in his heart.


	9. You took it all, and now I have nothing

**SORRY IT'S SHORT AGAIN. BUT IT DOESN'T REALLY NEED TO BE LONG NOW DOES IT?**

**WHY? YOU ASK, YOU'LL SEE...**

* * *

It was a strange scene outside the awards building. Harry had never seen anything like it.

The sky above him, although it seemed to surround him from every angle (as opposed to it's usual resting place, above his head), was dark and thunderous. Harry couldn't see any clouds, or stars, as every time he looked up his glasses were beaten with the harsh, rain that dive bombed from the sky with a fierce and frightening desire to destroy everything it touched. Harry felt the same.

He couldn't see those surrounding the red carpet, they were just flashing cameras and murmuring blurs who couldn't tell whether he was a celebrity interesting enough to waste their precious time on. So Harry made it to five feet away from the end of the road before he heard the most beautiful voice calling after him.

"Harry! Wait!"

He wanted to ignore it. He wanted to keep walking and apparate as soon as was out of sight, but the voice was intoxicating and it made him stop immediately and turn around.

He wanted to hurt himself for bringing her out into the thunderstorm as she approached him. It was all ruined, the dress, her hair, the make-up the shoes but Harry smiled slightly as he laid his green eyes apon her, she looked so beautiful still. Like some sort of war goddess who had just battled through some hideous weather, and won her battle in the most noble and respectful fashion. She strode towards him elegantly and patiently, not caring that the water falling from the sky was battering her. The expression on her beautiful, heart-shaped face was different though, more twisted, confused. When Ginny stopped, she was less than six feet away from Harry, that was when she seemed to be lost for words.

"Uh...hi," Harry swallowed, his adams apple bobbing violently as a mans did when he was anxious. Harry had passed anxious a long time a go, he'd caught the train, kept going until he reached the highest hill of anxious, then flown up to the highest part of the sky he could and floated, waiting... anxiously.

"Hi..." Ginny replied, equally nervous. She didn't know what to say, that was obvious enough. "Won't y-you come back in-inside?" she asked politely, stammering with both cold and nerves.

Harry bit his tongue, hating himself for bringing her out into the harsh weather. She looked so innocent, but the blackness surrounding them didn't quell Ginny's diamond devil on her hand, in real life or Harry's mind.

"N-no," he said shortly. "I have to go... I have somewhere to be."

"No you don't!" Ginny squealed, exasperated. "J-just go b-back in-inside Harry."

They stared at each other for a few silent seconds, both trying to ignore the energy that pulsed between them. Neither of them knew what it was, nor did they recognise it's presence but Harry had the feeling it was more than just a general, ravenous attraction.

"I have to go..." Harry repeated again, in a forced voice.

"Don't give me that shit Harry!" Ginny squealed again, but this time it made a scraping noise on her throat that made Harry wince.

"I can't stay, I have to go..." Harry didn't want to lie to her, he would always hate himself for doing so.

"No Harry! No Harry!" Ginny was yelling, but she didn't actually appear to be directing it at Harry. It was like some sort of inward battle with herself and... well, herself.

Harry felt he ought to interrupt, "I..." he stuttered, not knowing what to say.

"No Harry don't leave!" she cried, stepping forward subconsciously. Tears pricked at her beautiful eyes and Harry prayed his will not to weaken. Ginny's hands edged towards him slightly, but she tried to stay in control. "Harry please!" she cried. "Don't leave! What has it been? An hour? Two..?" Again, she stumbled towards him. "It's not long enough Harry, please..."

Although he was entranced by her beauty and all it's essence, Harry felt a violent anger swell up inside him and before he could stop himself, he was roaring his heart out: "NOT LONG ENOUGH?!" He bellowed. "NOT FUCKING LONG ENOUGH?!" He sped towards Ginny, not letting himself be any closer to her than two metres. "I TOLD YOU I'D STAY FOREVER! I PROMISED YOU... You never promised back did you? That's where it all went wrong, you didn't want me to stay any longer _then_, did you?"

He was whispering then, as his voice rasped in the cold wind and both Harry and Ginny were crying their hearts out. "Harry..!" Ginny cried again, urging some sort of acceptable excuse to escape from her lips. "I didn't know..."

"DIDN'T KNOW WHAT?!"

"I'm sorry, I d-didn't mean it..."

Harry could hardly believe his water-filled ears, "DIDN'T MEAN IT? FOUR YEARS, FOUR DAYS AND FIFTY THREE MINUTES OF DIDN'T MEAN IT! Oh dear god!"

Then that sudden rush of blood to a Weasley face that Harry recognised as their fiery temper made an appearance apon Ginny and Harry winced, seriously frightened. "WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO HARRY?" she screamed, wild as a banshee. "I WAS SCARED! YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT THE FUTURE SO MUCH AND MY BROTHER HAD JUST DIED!"

"FRED DIED SEVEN YEARS AGO GINNY!"

They both went silent, shocked by Harry's harsh words. The reporters around them knew something was going on, but they could barely hear each others roars just a few feet away from each other, there was no way the reporters would catch a word of what they were saying in the storm and although harry couldn't see them, he could hear them bustling about desperately, trying to catch a piece of the action.

"You think I didn't love you?" Ginny asked in a barely audible cry.

"No, I think you might have..."

"TELL ME THE TRUTH!"

Harry had never been able to lie to Ginny, so he didn't bother. "No, I don't think you loved me for one second. I think you had a crush on "The chosen one" from birth and thought you'd try me out." The words felt like venom in his mouth, but then they were overtaken by blood as Harry felt Ginny's hand collide with his cheek and practically knock him senseless.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Ginny told him, her face now a dangerous shade of puce. "DON'T YOU DARE EVER SAY THAT AGAIN! I loved you with every fibre of my body that could muster up any passion, I wanted to give you everything! Was it wrong of me to be scared Harry? Was it wrong of me to be scared of giving everything to one person?" Ginny asked the question rhetorically, but Harry sped towards her, struggling to breath as his face reached the air just a few inches from hers.

"Yes," he spat at her, pain clawing at his body. "I was never scared for one moment. Not one. I gave you everything before I even knew I had anything to give, then you gave up on me. On _us... _and then you took my everything with you... and now I have nothing." With that Harry breathed in and thought of home, and after a second of bone-crushing (which was merely a tickle compared to what he'd just had to experience) he landed on the sofa of his apartment. Then he set himself the task of breaking everything he could lay his tear stained hands on until he passed out in agony.


	10. Oh dear, we're in trouble

**Hey guys. **

**  
There was some confusion over this chapter. **

**THe first part is roughly two months after the end of the war, the second around three.**

**I know Harry and Ginny had an argument in the last flashback, but that doesn't actually scar their relationship forever. **

**Ginny just needed everyone to keep away from her for a while.**

**Sorry, but all will be explained as more chapters come together!**

**Thanks for all reviews, good and constructive! :P**

* * *

_"Harry, where are we going?_

_Ginny smiled as she felt for Harry's hand in the darkness and grasped it tightly. They were in the Weasley kitchen and Harry had just snuck into Ginny and Hermione's bedroom and pulled a very sleepy Ginny out of bed. She was confused as to why she had been awoken, but excited too, Harry was up to something._

_"Harry?" she asked again, as his hand slipped out of hers. The only light in the room was that of the moon on a clear night, tearing through the tiny windows, making Harry just a silhouette to Ginny's eyes. She saw his dark, tall frame head towards the door and edge it open slightly, grabbing two coats off the rack as he did so. "Come on!" he whispered. Ginny giggled and sped over to him and out the door, Harry laughed and followed her out, leaving the door open the tiniest bit so they could get back inside._

_"Are you excited?" Harry asked as he and Ginny strolled hand in hand through the mass of reeds that was the Weasley garden. _

_Ginny was slightly confused by Harry's little adventure tonight but not worried at all, she was actually quite interested as to where he would take her, considering it was her garden. "I suppose..." she replied nonchalantly, waving one hand in the air. Harry laughed again, and shouldered Ginny playfully, causing the inevitable play fighting that would pursue, they ran through the reeds for at least half an hour before Harry disappeared. Ginny, confused, ran speedily in the direction she'd last seen him only to trip over a large mound, which happened to be Harry himself. He laughed again as Ginny landed on him and he fell backwards into the large, muddy puddle behind him, covering both him and Ginny. He opened his eye to see Ginny's face hovering over his, pouting sulkily. "Do you know how long it will take to wash my hair now?!?!" she asked, shrilly, hitting his chest._

_"Ow!" Harry chuckled and lay his head down, not caring as the mud went in his ears. _

_"Good you deserve it."_

_"For what?" Harry asked, stroking Ginny's hair out of her face and behind her ears. Her hair was completely and utterly covered in mud, but Harry was looking at her with such adoration that she couldn't help but smile._

_"For bringing me out of my- my bed, and getting me all muddy, and- and..." Ginny really couldn't talk when Harry looked at her like that. She had always loved his eyes, but now they were so beautiful, so vibrant. A wonderful shade of green that made her heart swell up and beat faster than she knew possible. Ginny and Harry didn't kiss much, very rarely, but now Ginny kissed Harry and he kissed her back. It sent butterflies through her, as it always did. She still couldn't believe that it was Harry Potters lips on hers, that it was his hands in her hair and his chest that her hands lay apon. What made her smile though, was that she could feel Harry's heart beating just as fast as hers, and the same shivers that were enveloping her, attacking him too. _

_"Thanks," she said, pulling her face away._

_"For what? Making you look like a monster?" Ginny hit him and Harry chuckled, stroking her face tenderly, with that look in his eyes. "The most beautiful monster in the entire universe." Again he leant up and kissed her, just lightly on the lips but it sent even more shivers downs her spine than the last kiss. _

_"I was going to say..." Ginny interrupted, "Thank you for bringing me out tonight and getting me all muddy. I hope you don't get caught, they'll freak."_

_Harry sighed, "Ginny it's been nearly two months..." he sat up and leant back against the reeds. "How long is it going to be before people stop worrying about him?" Ginny frowned, wishing she hadn't annoyed him with normal life. She wanted to forget it all as well. "Anyway," he carried on, smiling now. "This isn't what I brought you out for, you distracted me..." He pulled himself up, then Ginny and began walking slowly westward._

_"Where are you taking me?" Ginny asked, curiously._

_Harry sighed again, "I'm not telling you." he told Ginny. "But now we won't have time to walk after you so sneakily distracted me, take my hand." Ginny did as she was told held Harry tightly round his chest. As unpleasant as apparating was, it felt completely different having all her bones crushing and her breath knocked out of her, when all her bones were being crushed into his and both their breaths were being knocked into each other, it felt less like dizziness and more like they were dancing. _

_ They landed in between some trees that Ginny recognised as those not far from her house, if she looked out of her bedroom window, she could just see them over the hillside. They were tall, thick ferns that towered about a hundred feet above both her and Harry. Ginny slipped slightly as they landed and Harry grabbed her, she hadn't noticed before that these trees sat on a hill, Harry and she had landed three quarters of the way up. Harry smiled and pulled her with him, slowly climbing the hill. Ginny smiled back and walked beside him, feeling like she belonged there._

_The sky seemed a lot lighter as they reached the top of the hill. They could see the countryside for mile and miles, to the left of them was a large herd of cows, grazing and lazing about sleepily. In the distance a small house, with it's chimney smoking lightly. It had turned from night to morning and the sky was waking up with full force, exhibiting it's real beauty. It was a canvas of orange, and some great painter had streaked pink and lilac across it delicately. Small silver clouds were dotted across also, fading and changing into the colours of their backdrop. The sun was rising just to the left of them and shooting it's rays forcefully, as if desperate for the whole world to experience their wonder. Ginny had never seen anything so magnificent in her entire life, she felt instantly calm and excited as she looked around her and she squeezed Harry's hand tighter. "Merlin..." she said, glancing at him, smiling at her._

_"What do you think?" Harry asked, his grin rowing bigger._

_"I think... Wow." Ginny sat down and Harry did the same. She put her head on his shoulder, "How long have you known about this?"_

_"About a year," Harry told her, wrapping his arm around her. "I've only been here once before, I thought you might like it."_

_"Understatement of the year..." Ginny laughed, still gazing around her, the sun was rising fast. "I don't want to go home," she told Harry._

_"I know," Harry replied. "They'll all wake up soon and find our beds empty, and then they will definitely freak out."_

_Ginny nodded, knowing he was right, "Let them." she suggested. "I don't want to leave, I want to stay here with you forever."_

_Harry smiled and kissed her head, "I'll see what I can do."_

___________________________________________________

_"What the fuck?!"_

_Ron's voice echoed throughout the Burrow, and recognising the fury in it, all family members (Including Hermione and Harry, and excluding Mr. Weasley, who was at work) flocked to the kitchen to get a closer look. They listened in silence to him storming down the many sets of stairs from his bedroom. His feet soon appeared before them and his whole body emerged at the bottom of the stairs, he was holding something in his hand, a cloth of some sort._

_"Where is he?" Ron asked, venomously, his face puce. Harry had a very bad feeling about where Ron's anger was to be directed and slipped quietly behind Mrs. Weasley, bending slightly to hide behind the short woman._

_"Who?" Hermione asked innocently, she'd noticed Harry slip behind Mrs. Weasley. "Ron, what's wrong?"_

_Just then the back door opened and Ginny strolled in, smiling peacefully. She wore denim shorts and a blue strap top, she was already quite tanned, despite the fact it was just the beginning of spring, she had her hair plaited on the side of her head and Harry couldn't help but smile as she entered the room and marvel at her beauty. She was carrying a basket of eggs under one arm, and holding a half eaten apple in the other hand. "Hello every...one," she greeted them, realising the situation mid sentence. "What's going on?" she asked, looking both suspicious and worried._

_"You tell us!" Ron yelled at her, chucking her the fabric. She caught it with one hand (the one with the apple in) and placed the eggs on the kitchen counter. She held the fabric up to examine it and Harry recognised it now as more than a piece of fabric, it was a t-shirt of Ginny's Harry recognised. He gulped and crept towards the other door, thanking god all the Weasleys were shielding him from Ron. _

_"It's my t-shirt," Ginny said simply, sounding unfazed, even though Harry was sure she recognised it too. He bent round Percy's shoulder and saw that Ginny's face looked slightly tenser now, she was looking round the room casually, Harry knew she was looking for him. _

_"Aha!" Ron yelled, "I knew it!"_

_"Well done Ron," Bill laughed sarcastically, pulling a chair out at the table and sitting in it. "It couldn't help that Ginny is the only girl in this house not including mum?"_

_"No! It's not that..." Ron squealed, his face turning an even darker shade of purple. _

_"What is going on?" Percy asked irritably. "I have a lot of work to do Ron, if it's not serious..."_

_"Wait! You should know!" Ron told him._

_"Know what Ronald?" Hermione inquired, her acting skills impeccable. She walked over to Ron and sat behind him on the stairs, winking at him as she did so, Harry couldn't help but smirk as Ron's adams apple bobbed up and down frantically as Hermione brushed past. _

_Harry didn't want to be around when they all found out, so he slipped past Bill (amazed that no one had noticed him, or wondering if they had and were hiding him on purpose) and out the stable door. Punching the air in victory as he did so, but he couldn't help but peer through the window, like when you watch and scary movie and cover your face but can't help sneaking a peak. Although for Harry, it was much scarier than that, considering that Ginny's t-shirt looked very incriminating. _

_"Ronald, I have to pop out but you can tell me later," Mrs. Weasley told him impatiently and in the next five seconds of Ron's spluttering there was a loud crack and her voice was no more. Harry wasn't sure whether his surrogate mothers absence made him feel better or worse. He didn't like the thought of all the Weasley men in there, waiting to hear Ron's scandal._

_"Ron just tell us what the hell is going on," came George's voice through the window. He sounded frustrated but as un-enthused as ever. _

_"Ron, I don't have time for this, I'm meeting Fleur in half an hour..."_

_"Where is Harry?!?!" Ron asked in a strangely high pitched voice._

_"God knows..."_

_"Oh god!" Ron sounded nervous, Harry thought. Although he guessed that just didn't want to say it out loud._

_"Ron," Ginny said regaining her bravery. Harry liked how her voice sounded now he couldn't see her face, it was smooth and raw and, very pretty. "What on earth is wrong with you? Why are you freaking out because of my t-shirt? What did you do, trip over it? Merlin Ron, you are such a drama queen."_

_Ron swore at Ginny, calling her something that made Harry want to punch him in the face. Harry could feel his face grow hot as all the Weasley brothers rounded on Ron for his insult on their sister._

_"Ron!" Percy gasped._

_"That was hardly necessary mate!"_

_"Ron," Bill scolded. "Don't be such an ass."_

_"But she's been..!" Ron stuttered, Harry could picture him, looking frustrated and slightly green in the face._

_"Been what?" Ginny asked, her voice sounding vicious. Harry could tell she was angry at Ron now for him calling her profanities. Harry stood up and peered through the window, making sure most of his head was hidden by a large spider plant._

_"Ginny's having sex!" Ron squealed, out of breath and out of patience with himself. Harry cringed as Ron yelled the words and all the Weasleys were silent for about three seconds before going into uproar, Harry ran round to the other door, ready to rescue Ginny if need be._

_"WHAT?!?!" Bill roared, standing up and knocking his chair over. _

_Charlie pushed towards her also, his face quickly turning a similar shade to Ron's. He was speechless._

_"WHAT THE FUCK?!?!" George yelled, his voice sounding emotional for the first time in a good few months. "YOU ARE NOT SERIOUS?!?!"_

_"Impossible..." Percy muttered repeatedly. "Impossible, Ron, you're lying."_

_"I found her t-shirt!" Ron told them all, sitting down on the step in front of a very silent Hermione, who leant forward and rubbed his neck. _

_"Ginny?" Charlie stuttered._

_"No!" Ginny screamed. "No! Don't be ridiculous! I share a room with Hermione!" All heads in the room turned to Hermione confused, it was obvious what they were thinking._

_"Oh well that's just ridiculous!" Hermione told them all sternly. "Come on boys, be serious." They all turned to Ron, who was staring into space, looking ill. Harry could only just see everything through a crack in the door, but he could see enough to know that Ginny was being backed into a corner._

_"Okay, okay..." Percy muttered. "Ron, what's with the t-shirt?" Percy snatched the t-shirt from Ginny's hand and waved it at Ron. "Ron, where did you find the t-shirt?" Harry winced, knowing this was where it all got serious and he would never be allowed into the Burrow ever again in his life._

_Ron muttered something that Harry couldn't hear, but he saw Percy's face turn death-like and knew that he was a goner. _

_"What?" George asked, frantic. "What? Where did you find it?"_

_Ron looked up at his brothers, who stood over him now, desperate for answers. Ron cleared his chest, "Under Harry's pillow," he told them solemnly, refusing to blink._

_The whole kitchen was silent. Hermione was sat behind Ron, her face impassive but he eyes lingering on Ginny. Bill stood in the middle of the room, dazed, confused. Percy looked very much like a seasick man on a very rough boat, Charlie was clenching his fists and George's mouth hung open, shocked. Ginny, being the brave girl she was, saw her chance and took it, bolting for the door. Her brothers saw her and ran after her, tripping over each other as they did so, the door burst open, knocking Harry backwards._

_"OI!" _

_"GET BACK HERE!"_

_Furious voices followed Ginny from the house and she slammed the door behind her. Luckily for her it was heavy enough to knock her brothers over and into each other._

_"Ginny!" Harry called, stumbling onto his feet. They ran to each other, Ginny hugging him round the chest as they did so. _

_"Harry, we're dead," she told him as her brothers stumbled out the door. _

_"What the hell, Harry?!?!" George yelled, as he saw them._

_"Potter, you're in trouble..." Charlie threatened. _

_Ron just stood there with Hermione, looking completely and utterly betrayed as all his brothers approached Harry and Ginny._

_"Hold on," Harry told her, and he closed his eyes, feeling a familiar vortex plague his and Ginny's body and suck them out of the Burrow just in time. _


	11. Life's blur

**Okay, guys.**

**I had this chapter up for what, a day? And you're already yelling abuse at me.**

**The point of this story is that it is confusing and that it should all fall into place at the end, a lot of my chapters are like this although this is the most extreme so far.**

**Please trust me to pull it all together.**

**Thanks, Xx**

* * *

"Ginny...? Ginny, are you listening to me?"

It was half past nine, on a Saturday morning, two weeks after the annual quidditch awards. Ginny was sat at the kitchen table, in the Burrow, with her very frantic and very excited mother. She'd been buried under paperwork and florists and caterers ever since she'd grumbled her engagement to Mrs Weasley a week ago. She'd arranged everything, it was all her choosing, what she liked, what colour scheme she wanted, the guests she wanted to invite. It should have felt perfect, but even though Ginny liked everything, she hated it all. None of it felt right.

"Ginevra!" Molly shrieked, waddling over with two cups of tea. "Are you listening?"

"Sorry...? N-no, carry on." Ginny looked up at her mother, taking the tea as she was offered it. She tried not to look at her hands, which were bony, placid and appeared to be made out of only veins. The ring on her left forefinger, that was originally a bit small when she had received it, now fit her perfectly... and she hated it.

"I was just talking about the guest list, dear." Mrs Weasley continued. "You forgot someone."

"Really?" Ginny replied, sipping her tea and staring out the window.

"Yes, silly mistake really. You forgot Harry." Mrs Weasley stared at Ginny innocently, not noticing how she went pale and her breathing stopped. Ginny's mother seemed so excited about the wedding, she had forgotten nearly everything else, the house was a mess, gnomes were running wild out in the garden, and Mr Weasley had been forced to make his own meals for three straight days before Molly remembered him. Ginny was sure her mother would normally have seen her changing pallor, but everything had became a blur to Mrs Weasley from the word "engaged".

"I-I have to g-go," Ginny announced quietly, so quietly that her mother made her repeat it.

"But what about...?"

"I don't know!" Ginny gasped. "I have to leave, now." She headed for the back door and closed it behind her before attempting to apparate, but she knew she wouldn't have the strength before she even tried, and she landed in the middle of the reeds about sixty yards away from the house. Covered head to toe in mud, she sunk to the ground and wailed, clawing her face as she did so.

* * *

"Harry!"

The voice was a distant echo, yet painful still. It seemed to ring in Harry's ears like a gong.

"Harry! Wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open and he caught a dizzy, messed up image of his apartment and a large red, furry thing hanging over him like some sort of demented lampshade. "Hi Ron..." Harry mumbled, turning back over. He heard Ron hit him in the head before he felt it, and when he did, he realised the extent of how much he had drank last night... or, this morning.

"Oi, you lazy sod, get up!" Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulders and yanked him into sitting position, an action which did not agree with Harry's balance of equilibrium. Harry stared at Ron through his hazy vision and attempted a grimace before Ron hit him again. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!?!" Ron yelled. "I banged on your door for nearly half an hour before apparating in. I knew you were here, Neville told me he dropped you off around dawn. Dawn! Merlin, Harry, are you trying to kill yourself?!?!"

Harry burped. "So what if I was?" It was only then that Harry realised he was on his sofa, he attempted to stand up but his legs failed him.

Ron sighed and collapsed next to him, putting his head in his hands. "Merlin, Harry, you're a bloody wreck. What is happening to you?" Harry didn't answer, scanning the room for any bottles. Ron ignored him and continued, "I know you've been a miserable sod for a good while, but recently you've just gone. At the awards you were glowing, ya' know? I come to see you a month later and I find you a human shell of firewisky and collapsed on your tatty sofa. Neville says he's dropped you home every night for the past three weeks, he's really worried Harry. He says that he'd have banned you by now, the only reason he lets you back into the Cauldron is because he and Hannah keep an eye on you there."

Harry wasn't listening to Ron, he pulled himself up off the sofa shakily and stumbled around the room, still looking for another bottle. The only thing he found was a bottle of evian that had been in the corner for three years. He dragged himself into the kitchen, ignoring Ron, who sat on the sofa, an uncomfortable, scared look on his face. "Harry?" he called lightly. "Harry, talk to me."

No noise came from the kitchen, just an eery silence that was disturbed only by Ron's breathing. "Harry!" he yelled. "Harry, you have to listen to me..." he pulled himself off the sofa and into the kitchen, "I'm not leaving until you..." Ron caught his breath as he tripped over something on the kitchen floor. That something was Harry, covered head to toe in his own blood.

* * *

"Ginny, you're not listening to me!"

Ginny blinked and turned to look at Hermione, completely forgetting where she was she tripped and fell of the podium she was standing on, landing on her bum like some sort of wobbly toddler.

"Goodness!" Hermione tutted as she ran to help Ginny back up. "You're really out of it aren't you? You need to be careful Ginny."

"Sorry..." Ginny mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she climbed back on the podium, It was only then that she realised she wasn't wearing much except corseted lingerie and high heels. "Hermione, what is this?"

Hermione sighed, "It's your underwear that you picked out to go under your dress. Remember?"

Ginny vaguely remembered picking something off a hanger when she was asked to. She didn't remember putting it on though, or even how or why she was where she was. She looked around her to see lots racks of pig, pouffy dresses and mannequins surrounding her. Most of the dresses were white. Oh, she was at her dress fitting then. She was happy it was just her and Hermione, if her mother had been there she would have been forced to pay attention.

"All right dears," said an old, excited woman whistling in from the doorway behind Ginny. "I've adjusted the waist, just like you asked." She came in, a large white mesh in her arms, just the look of it positively terrified Ginny…

"Arms up..." The woman told Ginny, levitating the dress in the air and slowly placing it over Ginny, who hadn't even noticed her own arms fly up in the air at the demand. Her body had been a shell for so long, it listened to things that her mind blocked out. She even spoke things without noticing it apparently, having not remembered picking out a dress or any lingerie. Let alone any adjustments.

The woman climbed up behind Ginny on the pedestal and began lacing up the back of the dress. Ginny stared at the dress for what felt like the first time. It was whiter than white, with a delicately decorated corset and a large pouffy skirt with about a hundred layers. The inside of the dress felt like silk, It was soft and smooth against her skin. The adjustment round the waist was clearly the corset. It was tighter than most corsets, making Ginny's chest look enormous. The dress was perfect... too perfect. Ginny had an idea then, one that made her both hate and love herself.

"Oh Ginny, you look wonderful!" Hermione squealed, practically tearing up.

"It's nice," Ginny replied, making sure her voice was loud and clear, like a normal persons. She spoke so normally that Hermione blinked, before regaining composure. "But..." Ginny continued. "It' too... white."

"Well, it is a wedding dress dear," the shop assistant told her. "That is the general idea."

"Ginny, I don't think you should change anything," Hermione suggested.

Ginny turned to her and stuck out her bottom lip, being a sad puppy. "Just a little colour?" she suggested. Hermione was so taken aback by Ginny's being human that she just nodded.

"Okay then!" Ginny began. "See this bit here..."

* * *

"Hermione?" Ron called, hearing the door open. "Hermione, is that you?"

Hermione bounded into the living room, laden with shopping bags and a big grin on her face. "Hello Ron!" she giggled, leaning over and kissing him hard on the lips.

"You're in a good mood," he commented, following her into the kitchen as she skipped into the room and grabbed a glass of water.

"Ron! I think Ginny's healed!"

Ron hated having this conversation. Hermione was constantly speaking about the fact that his sister had turned into some scary, pale corpse monster over the past few years and suggesting ways to interfere. Of course he wanted to interfere, he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some life into her, he hated seeing her so thin, so pale and emotionless. She was okay some days, but a lot of the time she never even listened to you. He'd not taken it seriously for two years, while he was slowly getting used to the idea of Hermione being his life partner and becoming a quidditch coach, but one day he just bumped into her and saw a completely different person inside her body. Ron wished he were the pushy, emotional brother she should have had, but none of her family noticed her really, they just called her a "grump".

"What do you mean Ginny's healed?" he asked, grabbing a biscuit out of the jar to add to the other ten he'd had before Hermione had got home.

"We were at the dress fitting, and she sort of just, came back to life!" Hermione explained, hugging him. "She had her finished dress on, and suddenly she just kind of woke up and didn't like the dress at all, granted I knew she'd not really paid attention when choosing it and it looks... different now she has put some of her flare in it, but it's definitely her! She was laughing and giggling and she got really excited."

Ron was silent for a minute, contemplating having a sister again. It would be nice to see Ginny excited about... anything again. "You're serious?" Ron asked. "You're not pulling my strings?"

Hermione laughed again, "I'm serious Ron!"

Ron laughed then, a laugh of relief. He kissed Hermione then, a fierce, joyful kiss that ended up with her legs around his waist. "I love you..." he whispered, kissing her neck.

"I love you too..." Hermione told him. It always felt like the first time whenever he said it, Ron wasn't very emotional, so those three words always meant the world to Hermione. "Hey! Do you want to see what I bought?"

Ron chuckled again, putting her down. "Why not?"

Hermione ended up giving Ron a little fashion show, pulling all her bags open and trying on the clothes. Ron smiled as Hermione changed outfits right in front of him on the sofa, it was when she did things like that that gave him the security of knowing they were a real couple. Hermione was a shy girl too, so it showed that she really did trust Ron. She tried on her bridesmaid dress about five times before adjusting it herself with her wand so that she liked it, making Ron laugh at her.

It was nearly ten o'clock at night when Hermione picked up her last bag. "I'll just put this on in the bathroom," she told Ron. "It's a bit tricky to do up." She headed off to the bathroom and Ron sat on the sofa, wondering what it could be. _Probably another bridesmaid dress, _Ron thought to himself smiling. The smile was wiped off his face when Hermione walked in. She wore a leotard corset and stockings, she laughed when she saw the look on his face.

"Ginny told me to get it!" she giggled, still watching Ron's gormless face. "But, I promised that i wouldn't... use it until her wedding night-"

"Aha, screw that!"Ron told her, running straight at her and picking her up in a fireman's lift before heading to their bedroom. And their night continued from there...


	12. I think I'm healing, yup, look I'm dead

**Hopefully this chapter will beat away some of the confusion I threw at you guys in the last chapter.**

**Hope you like it.**

**Reviews are welcomed :)**

* * *

"Liver failure? Is that a bloody joke?"

Harry was led down in his bed at Saint Mungoes facing a large, Victorian window and the weather outside was apparently sunny, despite the fact it was mid November. Harry had come to hate sunny weather recently, he didn't know why, he didn't think about it much. He could hear Ron talking to one of the healers, well, he could hear Ron _arguing _with one of the healers. Harry had found out three days ago that he had liver failure. It had come as a shock of course, and he'd had his stomach pumped (magically of course, but it still felt odd) about eighty times. He felt horrible, emotionally, physically, mentally.

"Harry?" Harry rolled over to see Hermione perching at the end of his bed. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin was pale and she looked terrified, despite his state Harry couldn't help but to hold his arms out to her. He had never been hugged so gently yet so emotionally in his entire life. "Oh Harry, I feel so horrid!" Hermione sniffed, burying her face in his shoulder.

Harry did something he hadn't done in a long time, he laughed. "Hermione? You feel horrid?" he chuckled.

"Do you know what those awful healers did Harry?" she asked him innocently, pulling her handkerchief out of her hand bag and blowing her nose.

Harry frowned, confused as to why his healers were being called _awful. _"What?" he replied.

"They brainwashed Ron, with the um... oh I don't know, some sort of memory charm thingy..." she replied. Harry recognised that she must have really been in a state to forget any type of magical knowledge. "They took all knowledge of your collapse and bringing you to the hospital for _seventy hours! _Seventy hours, can you believe it? I was so angry when he remembered that I wrote a strongly worded howler to the chief of healers here."

"Did you yell?"

"I certainly did raise my voice, I got rather emotional to tell you the truth."

Harry didn't have an answer for that, so he went back to staring out the window and listening to Ron shout at people.

"...I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!!! I DON'T CARE THAT I WAS PANICKING, MY BEST MATE HAD JUST COLLAPSED, YOU TWAT!" His voice echoed through the ward, and probably the rest of Saint Mungoes. "You had no bloody right! Trust me, you're not gettin' away with this."

Harry expected Hermione to rush over and calm Ron down, but she didn't. She sat calmly at the end of Harry's bed, patting his leg and humming to herself.

"...Mr Weasley, you have to understand-"

"No I don't! I WOULDN'T GIVE A RATS ASS IF I WAS DYING MYSELF, YOU HAD NO RIGHT!" Harry could practically hear Ron's face turning purple as he spoke, well as he yelled. "Harry was here alone for three days because you couldn't be arsed to let me know what was going on! You slimy sods! ALL OF YOU!" Harry listened as Ron's footsteps stormed over towards him and he could tell Hermione was giving him a stern look, because he began to slow down as he reached Harry's bed.

"All right mate?" he asked casually, dumping himself on the end of Harry's bed.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "You?"

"Meh."

"You should sue them," Harry told Ron, nodding towards the healers, who were mumbling ominously in the corner. "They had no right to tamper with your head."

"I agree with Harry, Ron," Hermione put in, shocking all three of them. Harry had expected her to put his suggestion down and tell them to leave it be. "They can't get away with it, I know that no harm was done but..." Her logical side was struggling with her emotional side, neither of them wanting her to make a decision.

"I dunno," Ron grumbled, giving the healers a dirty look. "Bunch of ugly, stuck-up sods, think they can do what they want. Dunno if I can be bothered to wreck them."

"It would be fun though," Harry told him, smirking.

They all chuckled at that.

They spoke for a while, all three of them and Harry perked up as he realised he was actually being human. He talked naturally, he laughed naturally, he didn't want any firewisky at all. For the first time in about... five years, he was completely sober and he felt okay. He could feel Hermione's big eyes on him as he breathed every breath, she was searching his face and his eyes for signs. Harry hadn't really thought much about the past few years of his life, but he knew he'd not been nice to his two best friends and he hated himself for it. He could tell Hermione was still worrying, her whole face screamed "_Come on Harry, give me a sign I can trust you again. ANYTHING!". _It was hard for Harry to look at her for a few minutes, that was until Ron said something that made Harry feel as if someone had just put a pitchfork in his chest and was turning it slowly, mangling his body.

"So," Hermione began when a long, awkward silence fell down on them after Ron threw that certain name into a sentence and Harry's face had turned a whiter shade of grey. "What's the deal with the liver failure? How are they going to fix it?"

Harry pulled his attention to her. "They're um... they're going to transfigure it. But they have to do something else first with these " - he picked up the pot of pills on his bedside cabinet - "first. Apparently something else is ruined, I don't know..." He saw Hermione give Ron _the look_ that meant he was in trouble. Harry tried to regain his composure, for no other reason than just to see if he could. "But I'm supposed to be free the day after tomorrow, and I'll go back to work and stuff..."

"You won't drink again, will you Harry?" Hermione asked timidly. Her eyes filled with tears just mentioning it, he hadn't known how much he'd meant to his friends until that one moment. They both stared at him, wanting him to survive his whirlwind, not for themselves, or for his family, but for him. They both wanted more than anything for Harry to be happy, to smile at them every day and be a success. Harry was determined to try, for once he was thinking about someone other than himself.

"No," Harry replied. "Well... I might have a drink again one day, but I'm not going to _drink _again."

"Good," Ron replied, a big grin on his face. "Because Kingesly's been asking about you..."

Harry didn't think he'd ever worked so much in his entire life.

"Surely," he puffed, out of breath as he carried a stack of papers into his office. "Surely, someone who has been on sick leave is supposed to it easy their first month back at work?"

Violet smiled and followed him into his office. "Probably," she agreed. "Funny how the healers said you could do manual work but go easy on the magic. Didn't you have a muggle illness?"

"Just because muggles get it too, doesn't make it a muggle illness." Harry told her. "It makes it a human illness."

Violet shrugged and tottered out of Harry's office, leaving the door open. Harry surprised himself by staring at her as she left... he felt something. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. Violet was wearing an extremely short black pencil skirt and an almost see-through, pouffy white blouse with long sleeves and no shoulders. She looked extremely pretty with her hair piled up on her head as usual. Harry was angry at himself, but proud of himself for feeling attracted to her.

It had been a rough month, and it had nothing to do with the four days harry spent at St. Mungoes. He'd subconsciously decided to fix himself, well that was what he had decided had happened. He hadn't drank at all, and although he knew he was broken inside he had promised himself he would sort himself out again. If everyone else was moving on, so would he. He'd thrown himself into work, turning up at nine o'clock in the morning and leaving twelve hours later. Of course he wasn't hunting ex-deatheaters twelve hours a day, but he'd neglected a lot of paper work and being Harry Potter at the ministry meant that other people kept you busy.

"I've got your mail. Harry," Violet told him, sweeping back into the room. Harry caught a whiff of her perfume, it smelt like sweets. The kind that you had one of, and savoured for a full ten minutes before even dreaming of having another.

Violet stood on the the opposite side of the desk to Harry, she shuffled his mail and bent over to fan it on his desk. Again, Harry found himself staring (this time down her top) and wondered what on earth had got into him. A month ago he never would've dreamed that he would ever look at another woman again.

Harry averted his eyes quickly as Violet glanced at him. "Okay," she said, pointing at each letter. "Percy, Percy, Puckwart, Sandra, Cassie, Lorcan, Percy, Longbottom, Jeeves, Percy, Gernella, Patty, Percy, Percy, Ron." She'd pointed at each letter in turn as she spoke and afterwards handed Ron's letter to Harry, knowing it would be the one he read first. Harry ripped it open:

Hey mate,

Just thought I'd let you know that Hermione and I are off for a few days. She says the Ministry is stressing her out, and she's worried sick about you so we're apparating off to Brazil for a while. We'll not be very reachable, since we're putting up the tent in the middle of the Amazon so I wouldn't send any bird you care about our way since it will probably die. We're off tonight, Neville offered to meet you too, he said he'd owl you to suggest it. I'd go if I were you mate, I think Neville and Hannah are having problems and despite the fact that you're a prat, you've got a comfy shoulder, if you get what I mean?

By the way, I've owled two tickets to the QAA's your way, take Neville if you want. They're tomorrow. I don't feel like going anyway, they don't take modern teams into account so we thought we might as well miss it. Don't forget to get Hermione something for christmas, remembered you promised? It would make her feel more secure if she knew that you were sane enough to buy christmas presents. And hurry up about it, it's two weeks away.

See you mate,

Ron and Hermione.

P.S. Hermione asked if you'd like to spend christmas day with the two of us.

P.P.S. The QAA's are really posh, so make sure Neville doesn't act like he's your boyfriend.

P.P.P.S. Don't do anything I wouldn't while I'm away.

"Ron's going away," Harry muttered to Violet as she dusted the room with her wand. Despite the fact that she was in killer heels she was still on her tippy toes. For about the hundredth time that day Harry's eyes followed the curves of her body, absorbing every detail. He could feel himself breaking out into a sweat. The strange thing was, he wasn't nervous, he knew (and always had known, but never cared) that she dressed this way for him. Every time she could afford a skimpier outfit for work, she bought one and shoved it in his face. So why did he feel odd?"Violet?" Harry gulped, fiddling with his collar. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

Harry groaned fiercely as the feeling of pure pleasure imploded within him for the fifth time that night, his groaned was echoed by a yell and he collapsed, rolling over to the left of the bed and lying flat on his back.

The room was filled with moonlight, which danced on the walls and ceiling and the two naked bodies in the bed. Harry felt good. He felt better than he had in a long time and he finally felt like he was doing the right thing with his life. He was moving on. Granted he wasn't moving up, but he was leaving himself behind.

"Harry..." Violet moaned, climbing on top of him and collapsing there. She'd looked so beautiful all night, he hair had been piled up, and she'd worn a long cream evening dress. Harry had managed to keep himself there for two hours. Both he and Violet had turned on the charm to all the white hair witches and wizards who crowded them. It had been only eight o'clock when he and Violet had apparated back to his apartment and began having sex on every piece of furniture they could find (Harry hadn't known it was possible to have sex in a sink). Harry hadn't had _that_ for over two years. Violet and he, well they'd done some things Harry had never thought he'd ever do with anyone. She treated him like a person, but a person who was supposed to be touch and kissed and tasted constantly. Harry knew that his fifth time had been something like her ninth, and no, that was not exaggerating.

"Harry," Violet whispered, kissing his chest tenderly. She sat naked on his crotch, but Harry knew that he needed some sort of rest now before he could move again. "Harry, Harry, Harry..." Slowly she kissed all over, Harry knew she was sober but in some sort of orgasmic frame of mind and it wasn't long until her lips moved slowly downwards and Harry... well you can guess what happened next.

Harry tried very hard to ignore the niggling in the back of his mind. It was like a child was in there, poking him constantly. At certain times he barely noticed it, but whenever he was left alone to think, it crept back up. It had barely been noticeable all night, but now Harry was lying flat on his back and while his body did other things, his mind couldn't help but wander. Harry knew that Violet was working hard to get his attention, and in the end he refused to let his mind win, pouncing on Violet like a panther.

The next three days continued on like that, Harry and Violet at his apartment, at her apartment, at work. Harry found it easier to talk to her as their... relationship bloomed. He knew that he would never ever love her, not even as a friend. It took him six days of lust to realise that for that reason exactly, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her there to keep him soulless. He knew that having a soul had nearly killed him, so he was plucking it apart, brick by boring brick, and making sure every inch of it was held under deep waters until the bubbles stopped.


	13. What are you doing to me?

**My past few chapters have got a bit of stick. **

**A few people have asked how Molly could ask about Harry's invite etc. **

**I thought I'd explain this by pointing out that I mentioned that she and Arthur were going a bit simple in their old age.**

**And we will find more about Harry and Ginny's old relationship, so usually if my chapters are confusing, I make them make sense later. **

**Btw, before anyone asks about wtf is going on in this chapter, I'd just like to point out that my new twists will make sense later.**

**Peace, Xx **

* * *

"Oh my gosh, Ginny! We haven't seen you in ages!" Gabrielle and Georgia pounced on Ginny as she apparated into the changing room of Holyhead Harpies public home-ground for the first time in over a month. All the other girls waved and nodded politely as Ginny began getting changed.

"How have you been?" Gabby asked, pulling off her clothes until she was just in her underwear before putting on her shin pads and elbow pads. Most of the girls were doing the same, so Ginny knew she wasn't that late. It made her smile, the idea of a male walking into the room right then and seeing all these girls in there underwear, their sponsor had done it once and he'd practically died on the spot. Ginny slipped off her clothes and took her time adjusting her padding, she really couldn't be bothered with another broken bone.

"I'm fine," Ginny replied, pulling a shin pad out of her locker.

Ginny had been avoiding practise for no reason other than she couldn't be bothered to think strategically, as weird as it sounded, she knew something was wrong with her and she knew why. She also knew that it was incurable and that it was incurable and that she'd never be better again. She felt like most days she was watching herself from a distance and observing her zombie-like behaviour from above in the clouds. She had began analysing her every move, wondering why her character was so odd and how she'd managed to morph into such an unpredictable, robotic, bitch over the past few years. It was only now that she was at least trying to care, and despite the fact that she was failing, she knew she had to follow her life through. She just prayed that no body mentioned the-

"We heard about you and Greg! That's so great, Gin! You have to tell us all about the wedding!" Georgia giggled.

"Oh, god no..." Ginny replied. "If I hear the word _WEDDING _one more time I'm going to shut myself in a box with a live bludger." The girls stared at her, disappointed. "You'll just have to see it for yourselves and be as amazed as everyone else."

"Okay!" they replied in annoyingly perky unison before giggling at each other.

Ginny ignored them for a few seconds before getting dressed into her clothes and slinging her _Rainstorm5000 _over her shoulder and sprinting out onto the field, doing her usual before game exercise. The stands had no fans in them yet, but it was still three hours until their game against the Wasps. She was determined to run properly and she ran for over an hour as fast as she could while the team practised, before giving in and climbing on her broom to join them.

Harry smiled as he entered his office, two weeks from christmas day. It was a cold, icy day where the sky was so white it hurt to look at. He hadn't been to work for nearly a week, claiming he was still a bit ill. None of the Ministry seemed to have noticed that his assistant had been off for those days too, or that they'd exchanged more body fluids in the last One hundred and twenty hours than anyone could ever imagine. He felt good that day though, he was wearing dark black jeans, a grey jumper, a white shirt and a black tie (Wardrobe at the Ministry was more modern these days). He'd had a shower that morning and left the apartment before Violet had even woken up. He still wasn't sick of her yet, nor was she growing on him, but he still felt good. Cleansed.

A barn owl flew in his office door and landed on his desk. It wasn't an owl Harry had met before, and it chirped at him angrily when he ignored it for a few seconds. Harry snatched the letter out of it's claws and sent it away before reading it:

Mr Potter,

I don't know if you remember me, My name is Marvin Watermelon, we met at the QAA's. I would just like to thank you for being so charming to all of my guests, Although they would never admit it, they were having a lousy time before you showed up. I am eternally grateful and I am happy to send you any tickets I acquire for any event and whether you remember me or not, I now consider you my good and honest friend.

Don't reply if you don't feel the need,

Your Friend,

Marvin Watermelon.

Harry mused the letter and decided that clearly this Marvin (who he could not remember) was a nice guy and that he would reply later that day. He and Violet had charmed a lot of people at the Awards, mainly because they could. _Speak of the devil_, Harry thought, smelling a familiar perfume. He turned to see Violet standing in the doorway of the office and his jaw dropped. She looked... amazing. Her auburn hair was actually down for once, and Harry saw that it fell down to her waist. She wore a short red dress, the neckline was sharp and long, falling down below her breasts, the skirt only just reached the top of her thighs. She managed to smarten it up though, she wore sensible shoes and had a black suit jacket over her arm, Harry knew that without it she probably would have been sent home. She was staring at him with a lust in her eyes and Harry realised that it was probably because this was the first time in nearly a week they'd both been awake and not been mounting each other. Apparently Violet was having withdrawal symptoms.

"Hello you," Violet greeted him in her husky voice. Harry glanced behind her and saw most of the men in the office gawking in her direction. He quickly motioned for her to come in and used his wand to lock it after giving his work mates a stern look to make sure they scampered back to their work.

"Wow..." Harry muttered, he wordlessly soundproofed the room as wells as closed the blinds in one flick of his wand. Violet kissed him on the lips and climbed on top of his desk. "I missed you this morning," She told him. "I woke up very lonely." Harry couldn't believe how she was acting, she was lying all over his desk, opening her legs just to show Harry her lack of underwear and knocking everything to the floor.

"Here?" Harry asked, knowing that he'd do it anyway.

"It's even better here," Violet replied, pulling him towards her by his tie and wrapping her legs around him. Harry felt the pulsing in his crotch that meant he was giving in already, despite the fact that he really didn't want to. "It's where we met," Violet told him. "And I _really _missed you this morning..."

Harry gulped and nodded, giving in to the horny female that was practically making love to his desk. She laughed joyfully, shoving Harry into his chair before unzipping him and giving him head for the first time. Harry tried not to think about what was happening, and he delved back into his old self and found his way out, managing to get lost in himself just long enough for him to feel comfortable. It was midday when they both gave up, after destroying Harry's office and practically tearing each other apart. Harry made Violet apparate home and change as he rearranged his wardrobe and his office. Although he knew he had enjoyed the last three hours, he felt guilty and wrong. His cleansed feeling had disappeared the second Violet had entered the office.

"Ginny! Are you listening?!" Greg sat on the sofa on his London apartment with Ginny. They were sat doing nothing in particular, Greg was chatting away and Ginny was ignoring him, knowing that this was just a summary of the rest of her life.

"No...Sorry," Ginny mumbled, pretending to turn her attention to him.

"I said, we haven't... you know..._done it_, in a while," Greg told her.

Ginny nodded absentmindedly, still not really listening. She had purposely avoided sex with Greg since the awards, the idea of it had just felt wrong after that.

"Gin? Babe?"

"I don't feel like it," Ginny replied, hugging him. She prayed he'd understand but clearly Greg was one of those men who couldn't deal with abstinence. "Come on..." he muttered, turning on his husky voice. He placed his hand on the inside of her leg and began undoing her shirt. "We'll just be quick, Hun..."

"Greg, no," Ginny replied, feeling sick as his hands cupped her breasts.

"I'm sick of this!" Greg yelled suddenly, jumping up off the couch. "Ginny, where have you gone? For the past few months you've acted like you hate me!" Ginny stared at him, shocked. She saw that his eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale. She remembered then that he'd been that way for a while.

"Greg, I just don't feel like it," Ginny told him again, getting up. Greg grabbed her by the arms and kissed her, hard, before continuing to undo her buttons. Ginny couldn't help herself: She slapped him. Greg just laughed. "Gin, you're still as feisty as ever! Come on... please?"

Ginny looked at him, glaring as she did expertly once apon a time, before her body fell onto him. She realised that she didn't have the energy for emotion anymore, she'd always just thought that she wasn't emotional, not that she couldn't be emotional. Greg took advantage of her sudden paleness and began his plans. Ginny was nearly sick twice, and when she left the flat the next morning, her body was covered in bruises.


	14. Where it all ended, and it all began

**Hopefully this will clear up a few parts of Harry and Ginny's past.**

**(Sorry if my spelling is crap, spellchecker isn't working :S)**

* * *

_Ginny woke up smiling, as she did every day. She smiled because the sun was warm on her face, she smiled because she had nothing to do today, she smiled because she was tucked up in her crisp, white sheets, and she smiled because Harry was led next to her, his body moulding with hers and his arm around her waist. Harry always slep in her room, no one knew it except Harry and Ginny, and that seemed to make it more special. They never did anything, they didn't need to. They were young, and Ginny took it as a good sign that they were content being tucked up in eachothers arms. It had been a month since her father and her brothers had let him back in the house, they apologized for overreacting and said they'd just been overprotective of their little sister. That was after Ginny had verbally abused them for three days. _

_ Harry stirred behind her and she rolled over to face him. In the mornings his hair was especially messy and his cheeks had the slightest pink tinge to them due to him being a bit warm under the covers. Ginny couldn't help herself, before Harry's eyes opened, she kissed his nose. As she pulled away she felt Harry's arm pull her closer to him and into a long, passionate kiss which Harry only opened his eyes at the end of. _

_ "Hello..." Harry grumbled, smiling._

_ "Hello," Ginny giggled, hugging his chest. _

_ "And how are you this morning?" Harry asked, stroking her hair. Harry adored Ginny's hair, (he'd always liked redheads but this was different) he loved how it smelt like strwaberries and was as soft as velvet. _

_ "I'm perfect," Ginny replied. "Now you're here..."_

_ "Au contrare, I've been here for the past ten hours so if it were my doing that made you so goddess-like and unbelieveably perfect, than you would have been like that all night."_

_ Ginny smiled and kissed his chest. "I was perfect all night then," she told him._

_ "Is that why you were crying in your sleep?" Harry caught her off guard with that very personal question._

_ Ginny pulled away from him and climbed out of the bed. "I wasn't crying," she defended herself. "I wasn't!"_

_ "Come on, Gin." Harry climbed over to her and hugged her. "Wanna talk about it?"_

_ No, Ginny thought to herself. I do not want to talk about my reoccuring nightmare of my brother dying and me not doing anything to save him, even though I could have. I don't want to relive the pain I just about live through in my sleep. _

_ "There's nothing to talk about," Ginny stated. "I can't remember any of my dreams, you know that." But I can when it is thrown at me every night for three months. Ginny didn't know why the dreams had begun three months ago, when the war had been about six months ago. She'd grieved appropriately and now after she had dealt with her brothers' death, she was confronted with it again. The very first dream had been the first night Harry had slept in her room, a coincidence she didn't want Harry to know of, because he would end their rooming in a second if he thought it would help her. She wasn't sure she could sleep without Harry anymore, but she hated lying to him._

_ "Harry?" she asked, sitting back down on the bed, Harry sat behind her and she led down in his lap._

_ "Yes?"_

_ "You won't ever... leave me, will you?" Ginny asked, just thinking about it made her heart ache._

_ Harry was silent for a few seconds and Ginny began to worry he was thinking of a way to let her down lightly, that was until he held her shoulders and turned her to face him so that their faces were less than an inch away from eachother. They both admired the others' eyes, recoginsing them as the light of their life. "Ginny, I never ever want to leave you. If you want me, I promise I'll stay forever. Until the day we die of old age in eachother's withered, ugly, veiny hands." They both laughed lightly at that. "I don't want to live on this earth without you. Not for one second."_

_ Harry's words surged through Ginny like a gust of icy winter wind, making her feel alive and in love. Something felt wrong though, why did Harry's words (although comforting) feel a bit like a prison sentence?_

_ "I love you Harry," Ginny told him kissing him lightly on the lips. They had never actually said the words to eaachother, despite the fact that they knew they loved eachother. It felt amazing to say it._

_ "I love you more, Ginny," Harry replied in a whisper. He kissed her too, but harder and they lay on the bed next to eachother, kissing slowly, but doing nothing else, and relishing their love for eachother for the rest of the morning..._

* * *

_"Ginny, I need to talk to you." Harry smiled as Ginny's face scrunched up in confusion, he couldn't help but find it cute still, despite the fact that she'd punched him last time he'd said it outloud._

_ "What?" Ginny asked, sounding just like Ron, it made Harry chuckle. _

_ "Do you think everyone has caught on by now?" Harry pulled her the last few steps until they were up on their hill again. They never apparated there, it felt wrong somehow. And they both enjoyed the walk. "About us, I mean?"_

_ "Sure," Ginny replied, kneeling down and lying on Harry's lap. "I mean, they're not THAT simple. If any of them haven't noticed us yet then it's because they're too self-involved and lazy. I mean, Ron and Hermione know about us, so do Percy, George and Bill. I think Charlie has caught on, despite the fact that he's rarely here. He always asks where WE are. You remember how everyone used to be like, where are Harry, Ron and Hermione. Now they say, where are Ron and Hermione and Where are Harry and Ginny? They've coupled us." She giggled._

_ "And what about your parents?"_

_ "Well I heard mum talking about us the other day and about how proud of us she was for (these are her words) 'coming together'." Harry snorted and Ginny hit him. "You're so crude. What's with the lecture anyway?"_

_ Harry smiled and muttered something before flicking his wand descretely in his pocket, Ginny recognised it but ignored it. "Ginny?" Harry began. "You remember when I told you that you were the love of my life and that I never ever wanted to leave you?"_

_ "You've never said that love of my life part before..." Ginny pointed out._

_ "Yes I did."_

_ "No," Ginny told him. "You said you loved me."_

_ Harry sighed, "It's the same thing..."_

_ "No it's not, not at all."_

_ "Okay, Ginny. You're the love of my life and the most intoxicating, attractive female I have ever had the fortune of meeting." Harry did a little bow. "How's that?"_

_ "Perfect!" Ginny giggled. "I like the part about me being intoxicating, good save."_

_ "I know..." Harry kissed her on the nose as he saw a small dot in the distance. "Ginny, I meant all of those things. I mean it when I say I want to spend the rest of my life with you."_

_ "Okay," Ginny replied, kissing him on the neck. "I have a feeling there's a moral to this conversation?" That was when she noticed the dot in the distance too. "Harry what's tha-"_

_ "Ginny," Harry turned her to face him. "Will you marry me?"_

_ Ginny was silent, in shock. She knew she should be ecstatic, and excited, and completely overwhelmed but she just felt cold. All she could see was herself leaving her life behind, her dreams came into her head again, she imagined them being there for the rest of her life. She imgained herself slowly morphing into her mother, housewife of the year. She pictured herself putting on weight, forgetting how to play quidditch and write stories. She saw herself becoming someone else, she saw herself changing for Harry. She knew that she loved him so much that it hurt, she knew that she couldn't sleep unless he was led next to her, she also knew she couldn't marry him. _

_ She refused to look at his face as she gave him her answer and asked him to let her be alone for a while, she didn't know that a while would last seven years..._


	15. I'm looking, but not seeing

**Hey there guys,**

**This is a chapter to fill the time.**

**We see a change in a few characters here, I hope it's not too confusing. **

**Oh and part one, well lets just say it didn't happen in the actual book, but what're fanfictions for?**

There wasn't much noise really, as Ginny walked through the halls of school for possibly the billionth time in her life. She knew she was dreaming, because everything was the same, and she knew Hogwarts had changed a lot since she'd left. She lingered on and old suit of armour, studying it intently (something, she'd, surprisingly, never done before). It was then that she recognised what she was wearing, a pretty white dress, made from about ten layers of flowery lace. The type of dress a bridesmaid would wear, or someone from a storybook. She was sixteen again, smiling and laughing as familiar faces (although she only realised when she woke up that she didn't know the people and that she hadn't looked at their faces) passed by. She ran through the halls, stroking the walls and embracing the warm, golden sun as it melted into the halls of the great castle and caressed her pale skin. She ran towards the great hall as she saw Neville and Luna strolling out of the doors, smiling at each other It happened just when she reached them, a great crash followed by a huge bang that threw Ginny backwards, almost up to the top of the staircase. She flew and hit the wall harder than she knew possible, and screamed in agony. She lay there for seconds before her concern for her friends made her stand up and open her eyes, but Ginevra Weasley opened her eyes to a very different Hogwarts that night. The second she did, she recognised the scene in front of her, like a movie she'd seen more times than she could possibly count. The air was filled with thick, black dust that made it impossible to see, people around her were screaming and running in many different directions as shrouded, black cloaked figures floated into the castle and shot shocking green beams wherever they could. Ginny climbed up the last few steps and called for her friends, but she couldn't hear herself, let alone them. A beam flicked so close to her neck that it made her hair whoosh past her and she ran up the steps. (Despite the fact that those steps didn't actually lead to that part of the school) Ginny found herself confronted with a painful scene that she would never admit she had actually witnessed in real life (despite the fact that she had, but not realised what it was at the time). She saw two of her redheaded brothers fighting together, against deatheaters. She saw the wall explode into tiny pieces and she saw that body fall to the floor so quickly, as if it were a fly to be squatted. She'd seen the wall falling, and not reacted quick enough to save her brothers' life... That was when she woke up.

She was in Greg's apartment, sleeping in his bed with him after he'd insisted they have sex again. Her whole body ached as the older, fading bruises had been replaced with new ones. She'd allowed her limp body to be abused, and she didn't care enough to make it stop. She stared at the naked body, lying like a starfish on his front, next to her. He made her sick, and angry and she managed to pull up a strong hatred for the man she was to marry in two weeks. She knew she would never love him, never properly. And that was why she wanted to marry him, she was sick of hurting. Although, she didn't know why the dream had come back after being gone for nearly four years. It just popped back again for a visit, Ginny hoped it was a short one.

The body next to her stirred slightly and Ginny stiffened, not wanting to alert him that she was awake, she failed and his eyes opened. When they fell apon her, they softened to a gooey, sleepy stare.

"Hello Hun," Greg grumbled, pulling himself into sitting position.

Ginny mumbled back and rolled over to lie back down. It wasn't until she'd done it that she'd realised that she'd made the wrong decision. A thick, hairy, rough hand wrapped itself round her waist and another body pressed itself up behind her. "You're not sleepy, are you?" Greg whispered. Ginny couldn't help but cry silently as the man she was supposed to love pounded himself into her with so much violence that she wasn't sure if she was conscious or not. It wasn't painful, not nearly as painful as what she'd been through, but she couldn't help but yelp as her fragile body was abused. Her fiancé took this as a good sign, and was even rougher with her after she yelped, rolling her over and making her do things she'd promised herself she never would. When she fell back to sleep that morning, it was because she'd been forced into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Ginny! You look terrible!" That was the greeting that Ginny received from her mother that morning as she reached the Burrow.

Ginny was automatically rushed inside her family home and forced a cup of tea.

"Mum... I need to talk to you..." she muttered, her eyes filling with hot, salty tears.

"Is it about the flowers dear? Because I'm not too sure on the colour scheme-"

"Mum." Ginny's voice was barely more than a sob. "Mum, please... listen."

It had been a long time since Ginny had been abled to connect with her mother. They hadn't been a real family for many years, not since before the war. Mrs Weasley had been so brave and dominant back then, when she was just a mother who enjoyed loving her family. Then for over three years, she'd had to ignore all her love for them and concentrate on protecting them. She'd always wanted so bad to just go home and make them dinner and forget that their lives were in danger, but she wouldn't. She had sworn to protect them. After she'd lost Fred, she'd had trouble finding her old self again and therefore had trouble bringing back her motherly self. She'd witnessed more than a mother shoulder ever have to witness: Her first born being mutilated by a werewolf, one of her boys with a gaping whole in the side of his head, her daughter in the firing line of the killing spell, and worst of all, her dead sons body lying cold and grey on the floor, his eyes open pleading with her as if he were a baby again. That was the day she'd really lost her motherly self, and she'd tried to bring it back. She cared for Arthur, who had been weakened by the war in both body and mind, she kept her house by herself, she kept in contact with all her children. She'd thought that Ginny getting married would be her chance to prove that she did still care. Today had been an awful day for Mrs Weasley, she'd woken up with a terrible headache and feeling quite sick and achy. It was one of those days where everything seemed too loud and when every colour was a shade too bright. That was why she'd noticed Ginny for once. How Ginny's grey skin was as dead as her brothers, her eyes were cold and emotionless and her breathing was loud and forced, as if she were barely alive.

"I'm listening dear," Mrs Weasley replied, knowing that her daughter needed her.

"I... I don't know if I can do this," Ginny stumbled, tears flowing into her tea.

"Do what dear?" Mrs Weasley asked, trying to keep her composure.

Ginny appeared to have ignored her question, she didn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular. "I betrayed him, he didn't deserve it, he was doing the right thing. Wasn't he?"

"Well dear, I don't know-"

"And, I wanted it to happen. When he asked, I felt... I felt like a had wings. I felt as if I had just flown up to heaven and that everything was going to be perfect from then on..."

Mrs Weasley leant forward and patted her daughter's shoulder. "Are you talking about Greg, dear?" she asked quietly. "Because if you felt like that-"

"No!" Ginny interrupted, shrill and shaking. "No, never! I hate- I had to go and ruin it didn't I? If I'd been brave enough to admit it, if I'd been brave enough to say good bye to Fred then I know I would have said yes. I would have said yes a thousand times over and begged for him to say it too." Ginny seemed animated as she spoke of whatever she was speaking about, Mrs Weasley didn't have a a clue. A small pink tinge appeared on Ginny's cheeks and she stood up, smiling. "I always thought about it," she told her mother. "I wanted it all. I wanted the white dress, and the rings and the kids. Oh, how i wanted them! I knew I would have a son first, and that he would be strong a valiant and exactly like his father in all but looks. He wouldn't look like... he would never look like him. He would look like both of us in one. I want to name him James. I've always wanted to name him James, such a strong, wonderful name. And of course his father would like it..."

Mrs Weasley sat and watched her daughter, feeling tears spring to her eyes as she recognised why her daughter was so different from her old self. She remembered little about the past five years, but when she thought extremely hard she remembered her daughter being insanely happy for a while. She also remembered why, now that she'd been forced to.

"Ginny dear, you can't marry Gregory."

Ginny's whole body twitched and she turned to face her mother. She portrayed so many emotions: Anger, sadness, confusion, desperation, craziness.

"Of course I can," Ginny replied shortly, as if her mother were butting into her buisness without being invited. "Don't tell me who I can, and can't marry. I can marry Greg."

"No you can't." Mrs Weasley's voice turned to mother mode, it was a voice she hadn't used since Ginny was about six.

"Yes I can!" Ginny snapped, turning away from her mother.

"Not if you still love Harry."

The words rang through the kitchen like white noise, penetrating every crevice, crack and corner. Mrs Weasley felt a change in the air, that told her things were about to get better. Ginny felt a change in the air that told her things were about to get a lot harder. She felt her mothers love for her drape round her body, but she shrugged it off. She needed to marry Greg, no matter how she felt about anyone else. Greg was her newest love, despite the fact that she hated him. He was entwined with her now, on her lips, her neck, and in every bruise that decorated her breasts a thighs. He was holding on to her wherever she went, making sure she could never let go.

"If you don't support my marriage," Ginny whispered, heading for the door. "consider yourself uninvited to my wedding." With that she left a devastated Mrs Weasley at the kitchen table, and headed back to her new home with her fiancé.

* * *

"Hello you," Greg greeted Ginny as she apparated into their living room on the twenty-first of December, five days before their wedding on Boxing Day.

Ginny had avoided Greg for nearly a week, she'd known that his new hobby was more than just a one off but she'd found that she could just disappear into work and wedding planning with her friends. She knew Hermione had decided she was healed recently, she didn't know why though, she felt worse than ever.

"Hi," Ginny greeted him in her new whispery voice she had acquired.

Greg waltzed over to Ginny and hugged her, he didn't hold her in any inappropriate way. His hands landed firmly on the bony blades of her back and his the rest of his body wasn't pushed against hers. It was... almost nice, but Ginny couldn't help her revulsion for him, no matter how polite he was.

"The girls rang here today," Greg told her, pulling away and sitting on the couch. "They were gossiping and gaggling all about your hen night. I hear it's going to be a smash."

"What hen night? Ginny asked. "I don't want a hen night."

"Oh come on Hun, cheer up. It'll be fun..." Greg opened one of the drawers in the coffee table and pulled out a magazine. "If I'm having a stag, you should have a hen, simple as that."

She'd been told then. Great. Ginny nodded and went into the bathroom. "Simple as that..." she muttered to herself. "Simple as that..."

* * *

"Harry, you've got mail," Violet called joyously from outside Harry's office door, he'd managed to confine her there all day. Sh was getting a bit out of hand with her whole "shag when and where possible" theory and Harry was surprised at himself for not being tiered at all. In fact, he didn't seem to find life with Violet on his lap hard at all. In fact, it bored him.

Violet opened the office door, and stood out of the way as a tawny, brown owl flew in the room. She wore a short, white dress, with lace all over the front and pouffy sleeves as well as cream shoes. She looked wonderful, as usual, but Harry ignored her and fed the owl a treat before opening the letter:

Hey Harry,

Guess what? I've been roped into going to that twat's stag night! I'm annoyed. It's not that I don't liek the sod, it's just that... well he's a dirty great asshole. And as uncomfortable and annoying as it may be, I've roped you into it as well since we've always done everything together. DOn't worry we don't have to talk to him, we'll just get pissed and go home. Maybe if we're lucky, one of us will punch him. At least if we're there, I can make sure there's no hookers.

Sorry mate, I really am. It's on christmas eve. Meet you then.

Ron.

Harry scrunched the letter up with one hand and threw it with perfect precision at the waste paper bin on the other side of the room.

"Well," he mumbled to himself. "This should be interesting..."


	16. Christmas eve

"Ginny, you look lovely," Mr Weasley commented quietly as he watched her apply her eighth layer of mascara with a look of... nothing on her face. Her eyes weren't shining blue like they did once, her cheeks didn't have a pink tinge anymore and her body was pale and limp. She didn't look lovely, she looked lost and broken, even the slightly dotty Mr Weasley hadn't noticed how his daughter had died inside.

"Thank you dad," Ginny muttered almost silently, her voice rough and grinding. That was how she spoke now, as if every word was so hard to utter. Mr Weasley stared at her, an outsider would've said he was staring off into nothing but his permanently blank expression he was searching for some evidence of a soul within his one and only daughter.

Mr Weasley didn't speak much these days, he had aged a lot since the end of the war and he looked more like his children's granddad than their father. It took a lot to ruin a happy, joyful man like Arthur Weasley, but losing his son, many of his friends and dozens of young, innocent, brave teenagers had done it. It hadn't helped that his wife broke down for over a year, all of his children were living in different parts of the country (as far away from each other as possible), and that his daughter had turned into a living shell of a woman. A beautiful woman. When Ginny had been just a few years younger, when she was twenty, not one eye missed her as she entered a room. She was normally laughing with her friends or her brothers most of the time and her laugh was so uplifting and beautiful it made a stranger's heart sing. Slowly over the past few years, she'd lost everyone. He hated himself for letting himself be within the category of people she'd lost but it wasn't his fault. He may have been mentally impaired but his emotions and his sense were still with him. Mr Weasley was angry at so many people, he was angry at himself mostly because he knew he was unfairly angry at others; he was angry at Molly for not making sure he could care for his children, he was angry at Bill for deserting his siblings for his new family, he was angry at Charlie for abandoning the country first chance he could, he was angry at the ministry for being so ignorant even to this day, he was angry at Hogwarts for not keeping his children safe, he was angry at Ron for being so god damn happy with Hermione but not having the courage to make the commitment, he was angry at Harry for slowly clawing his way out of the Weasley family when he didn't need them any more. An unusual fire lit up in Mr Weasley's chest when he thought of Harry, at first he thought it was anger, pure hatred but then he knew he didn't hate Harry... he sorted through the emotions in his head as Ginny stared at herself in the mirror, limp. He tried so hard to remember what his brain was telling him to remember... but it just wasn't there!

"Oh Arthur," Mr Weasley grumbled. "How could you! How could you fail your own children!"

There was a light knock at the door and Mrs Weasley popped her head in. The scene was nothing unusual, Ginny sat silently by herself... empty and Arthur somewhere near her, staring at her as if she were the most wondrous thing in the world.

"Tea's ready dears," She told them, forcing her voice to sound upbeat, despite that she was already wiping her eyes with a tissue.

* * *

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Harry grumbled as he and Ron entered the Leaky Cauldron.

Ron shrugged sheepishly before opening the door that led to the bar. The scene was one of rarity for the Leaky Cauldron. It was full. Greg was sat on the bar, chuckling with about seventeen other men. Harry didn't have to blink twice to be abled to tell what sorts of people they were, and he had no doubt that strippers would be part of their plans tonight. Hannah rushed about behind the bar as a few of the men yelled things at her. Harry had the urge to curse one of them as he caught sight of him attempting to grab her behind. He started to head towards him but Ron grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the one man Harry hated nearly as much as Lord Voldemort himself.

"Greg!" Ron chuckled, pink with discomfort.

"Whay! Ron's here everybody!" Greg hopped down from the bar and enveloped Ron in a bone-crushing hug like he was his best friend while Harry headed to the other end of the bar, where Hannah was washing a tankard.

"All right Hannah?" harry greeted her, pulling up a stool.

"Hey Harry, you okay?" Hannah asked, smiling and pouring him a glass of pumpkin juice. Hannah looked tiered, like really tiered. Harry had a feeling she was upset, her eyes were rimmed red and the bag under her eyes aged her about ten years.

"Am I okay?" Harry replied, pondering the question. "No. Not really. You?"

Hannah smiled politely. "I'm fine," she replied. "Just getting along..."

"Don't lie to me Hannah, I'm the chosen one, I could have you killed."

Hannah looked instantly alarmed and Harry chuckled. "I'm kidding, but seriously what's up?"

"I'm fine Harry, just a bit... just a bit overworked, that's all."

Harry nodded, sensing Hannah didn't want to talk about it. "How's Neville?"

That was when the source of Hannah's upset showed, at just the mention of her husband's name, her face turned bright pink, her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip began to quiver unnervingly. Harry instantly reached over and hugged her, knowing that he'd rather be awkward hugging her, than watching her cry.

"Potter's pulled!" Cheered a voice behind Harry, and he tried desperately to ignore it.

"I-I have to go," Hannah stuttered, pushing away from Harry. "Pow-powder my n-nose." And with that she skittered off to behind the bar. Harry was tempted to followed her, but a large hand suddenly clasped his shoulder.

"Potter mate," Greg chuckled. "How are you? Haven't seen you in a while..."

Harry tried very hard not to thrust his elbow behind him into Greg's stomach. "Well I-"

"BecAAAAUUUUUse... you're a dark horse you are." Greg went to sit down on the stool next to Harry and missed, ending up on the floor.

Harry realised then that Ron had done him a favour by arriving two hours later than the others, it meant that they would all be too drunk to notice Ron and Harry leaving two hours earlier than the others.

"ANYWHOOO," Greg continued, leaning on the bar casually. "I wouldn't mind"- belch -" an interview with _HARRY POTTER, _you know? Like, just to talk about your life and... your life and stuff."

Harry leant away from Greg in disgust. At least when Harry got drunk he did it quietly by himself without bothering anyone, but Greg was clearly the complete opposite and Harry hated him enough without having him belch in his face.

"Greg," Harry replied, staring at him with hatred. "I don't really have a life, despite what-"

"Course you do Potter! What about the hot redhead you're banging?"

Harry was surprised at how his blood boiled at that comment. It wasn't for Violet though, Harry didn't feel angry because Greg had been rude about her, he felt angry because Greg dared to even mention Harry's love life when it was Greg who had contributed to burning it to the ground. It was Greg who was marrying Ginny... the girl Harry had been in love with for seven years. Despite hating the man, Harry couldn't help but profusely jealous of him. He was the one who got to kiss Ginny's lips, he was the one who got to hold her, the one who shared a bed with her, the one who made love to her. Greg was the one Ginny had agreed to marry. Not Harry. Ginny and Harry had never made love, not with them both living at the Burrow, but Harry knew he would give anything to go back in time and have made it so they had. Even if he lost her in that alternate reality, at least then he'd have that memory to hold onto. But Harry had nothing of Ginny, except a large whole in his chest, which was entirely hers.

"Greg, I don't give interviews." Harry snapped before heading over to Ron, who was sat on the bench with two passed out men either side of him, his face buried in a tankard. "No strippers yet?" Harry asked, sarcastically hopeful.

"They were outside, I went out there and told them where to go," Ron grumbled as Harry pulled up a seat. "Had to pay em though, jammy tarts-"

"How much?" Harry asked.

"Twenty galleons..." Ron grumbled, planting his face into his tankard again.

"Twenty-? Merlin, Ron, let me pay-"

"No, I ain't broke anymore am I?" Ron told him sheepishly, his ears turning pink. "Coaching pays pretty well..."

Harry was sorry he brought the subject up. Ron had always hated talking about money for as long as he could remember, which was fair enough considering he'd barely had two knuts to rub together in his whole childhood.

Ron and Harry were both silent for a few minutes, ignoring the loud cheers of the rest of the stag party who were singing "_Oh how my tankard turns me on", _a song by Reginald Berkley, the American musician who'd been sent to azkaban earlier that year for sexually assaulting a child. Harry supposed if he and Ron just sat reading the papers for a while than they wouldn't have to deal with the _pissheads twatting around behind them_, as Ron so wonderfully grumbled into his tankard. They'd managed not to pay attention to the party for nearly ten minutes when their was a scream from the bathroom. Harry and Ron stood up instantly as they caught sight of Hannah running out of the room, the front of her dress torn apart. Ron automatically jumped over the table and to her side, as did Harry. He could barely control his wand hand as he saw Greg stumbling out behind her.

"Come on love..." Greg chuckled, ignoring the others around them. He stumbled towards her and Harry had never seen Ron's wand appear so fast. Ron's face was puce when Harry set eyes on him and his wand was pointing straight at Greg's throat.

"Sod off," Ron growled, glaring at Greg.

"Oh come on Ron," Greg pleaded badly. "We're practically brothers now aren't we? I mean-"

"You are not my brother, you're a piece of shit that got stuck to my sister's shoe that she hasn't figured out how to get off yet. Understand?"

Greg chuckled happily. "Don't you mean I got stuck _IN _your sister?"

Harry couldn't help himself then. The anger that pulsed through his body was so strong it felt as if his skin was exploding, before he knew it he was pulling his wand out and digging it into the mans throat.

"Don't you ever talk about Ginny like that again," he snarled, his face only an inch from Greg's, he backed him into the wall as everyone began to crowd around them. That was also about the time Hannah broke into tears. "You may be marrying her, but she is worth so much more than you could dream of being. You are nothing, a pitiful pig who escaped from his trough. If I could, right now I'd drown you in your own blood, slowly, carefully, and I'd enjoy it so much. You don't know how much I'd enjoy to watch you suffer, to watch you choke on your own tongue and for your eyes to fall back into your empty head. It would be the high point of my life, luckily for you-" Harry leant closer so that only Greg could hear him.- "Luckily for you, I love her so much more than you that I can't even kill you on the off chance it upsets her a little bit. Despite that i don't think it will."

With that Harry flicked his wand and Greg flew across the room, into lots of stools and through the window of the Leaky Cauldron and into the wall of the building opposite. Harry turned round and headed to Hannah.

"Send me the bill," Harry told her as she whimpered at the sight of her destroyed pub. "I don't care if you and Neville are on the rough at the moment, owl him. You need him here. Okay?" Harry turned to Ron. "I don't know about you, but I'm leaving."

"Righ' behind you mate."

Harry and Ron headed out of the pub and down a muggle street. It was pretty quiet, but hardly surprising as it was Christmas eve. The main roads were probably much busier. Harry glanced at Ron and saw that he was lost in thought.

"What's up Ron?" Harry asked as they headed onto another muggle street.

"Harry, if I ask you a question do you promise to answer if truthfully?" Ron asked, his ears turning even pinker than normal.

Harry chuckled, in a good mood. "You sound like Hermione. Go on then, _I promise."_

"Are you in love with my sister?"

Harry stopped in his walk and both men stared at each other seriously. Harry noticed then how both they had matured in their lives and yet managed to stay good friends throughout the good, the bad and the downright depressing. Harry loved Ron and all of his family, because they were his family too. Or they had been, until he'd pushed himself away from them. Ron had known about Harry and Ginny since they were seventeen, Harry had the sneakiest feeling Ron had been happy about his sister and his best friend having fallen in love. He knew that it was also hard for Ron to talk about, and after four years of internal pain and self-hatred, someone had finally realised why Harry was a broken man at only twenty three years old.

"Yes Ron," Harry replied quietly. "I love your sister more than anything else on this earth."

Ron nodded, embarrassed. "Alrigh' then..." he stood in silence. "Fancy a kebab?" he asked, his voice unnaturally high.

Harry knew for a fact that Ron didn't have a clue what a Kebab was and that he had just read it off the sign of a takeaway down the road. "Sure," Harry chuckled. "Let's get a Kebab."

* * *

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth in shock, but her eyes showed that she'd known all along. "You're kidding Ron!" she squealed after Ron arrived home, stinking of Kebab, and told her all the events of the night. Ron shook his head, wrinkling his forehead. Hermione saw that he hadn't been this stressed in a while and kissed him on the cheek, which instantly relaxed him.

"I don't know what to do," Ron moaned, chucking a pillow across the room.

Hermione giggled and hugged Ron tight to her. "Why are you so god dam happy?" he growled.

Hermione kissed him again, hard on the lips. Before smiling at him and giggling again. "Because I have a plan," she told him.


	17. Christmas morning

**Sorry it's short.**

* * *

Hermione was tiered, and she really wanted to go to bed. It was eleven o'clock on Christmas eve, Ron had arrived home nearly two hours ago now, and she'd instantly owled Ginny's _friends _Gabrielle and Georgia to ask them to meet her. Unfortunately, she needed their help to carry out her plans.

"What do you mean, take over?" Gabrielle asked, her brow pushed together.

"Yeah, we've already arranged _everything_." Georgia squealed.

Hermione sighed, she was never going to get through to these two, they were like god damn dollies being told not to wear dresses.

"I just think it would be nice if _I _couldbe in charge," she explained. "I mean, I have known Ginny longer than both of you. We've been friends since she was twelve. What's that? Nine years? You've known her three and suddenly your allowed to be in charge of her hen night?" Hermione knew she was starting to sound bitchy now, and that was how she wanted it. The only way to get these two off her back would be to make them dislike her, a sacrifice she was sure she'd get over. "I spend most of my time with Ginny, I know everything about her."

The two clones glared at her. They both looked exactly the same in Hermione's eyes. They were both ridiculously slim, tall, toned, with straight mousy hair tied in long, tight ponytails, colourless eyes and pale skin. They were clearly very fond of themselves and therefore very fond of each other. Hermione didn't know why Ginny was _friends _with these girls. They were the exact opposite of her.

Hermione had found out so much about Ginny in less than an hour with Ron. Not that Ron had talked much about Ginny, but everything he said seemed to make sense. It fitted. Hermione felt as if she'd been trying to do a puzzle for years and she'd finally figured out where that missing piece went, or as if she'd painted a beautiful picture, and hadn't been able to figure out what was wrong with it for years, until she found the perfect shade of paint, or the finishing touch. She'd finally realised why her best friends were so miserable: They were in love. Not a love like her and Ron, that was different. They had been reluctant to love each other for years, and then one day they just gave in and that was it, but Hermione and Ron had slowly released their love until it was just part of their lives. Ginny and Harry were completely different. They'd grown to love each other throughout their adolescence, with only Ginny realising at first glance about her emotions. Harry had grown to love Ginny like a sister, until one day he just had to have her. A passion had exploded between them that was irreplaceable, because they both knew it was right. Through out thick and thin. Their love wasn't a piece of the painting, it was the painting. A beautiful mural that had become so desirable, so mesmerising that it had become too much for them and they'd given up, slung a sheet over the canvas. Their love was their life, and without it they'd both lost themselves.

Hermione knew everything she was thinking in her head was extremely far fetched, but she also knew she wasn't an idiot. She knew Harry and Ginny better than she knew herself, she was only surprised at herself for not figuring out about them earlier. I mean, it was obvious really if you paid attention : They were all lovey dovey after the war for nearly a year, and then they just weren't. Harry extracted himself from the family a year after the war, and Ginny took up the job offer from the Holyhead Harpies. Harry was out of the country for months at a time, Ginny started seeing Greg. Harry slowly stopped answering owls and attending events, Ginny started refusing to attend anything, even dinner. How did no one connect the two? Hermione knew Mr and Mrs Weasley had always suspected that Ginny and Harry were in a relationship, but they seemed to forget the second it was over.

"Well you can hardly do much now can you?" Georgia sneered.

Gabrielle nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's Christmas eve."

She looked at Georgia, who refused to take her eyes off Hermione. "Her Hen night is tomorrow. How much can you arrange in a day? On Christmas day?"

"You'd be surprised," Hermione told them seriously. "I work for the ministry."

"Big fucking whoop," Gabrielle snarled. "We've worked on this for weeks, and you think you can do better in... twenty one hours?"

"I know I can," Hermione stood up and wrapped herself up in her winter attire. "I'll see you two at the Burrow tomorrow at eight. And don't worry about your plans, I've already cancelled them all."

* * *

"Harry... Harry!"

Harry _had _been asleep until a familiar voice was yelling at him in the bed. his eyes slowly fluttered open to see Violet lying on his chest, completely naked. She giggled when she saw him look at her and kissed him on the lips.

"Merry Christmas!" She squealed, gnawing on his neck. "This is the best one yet don't you think?"

Harry pulled himself up out of the bed and instantly began pulling clothes on. "No actually," Harry replied, pulling a sweater over his head. "This one blows just as much as the rest of them."

"Speaking of blows," Violet whispered. She climbed out of bed and pressed her naked body to Harry's half dressed one. "DO you want your christmas present early?" She grabbed his crotch and kissed him on the lips but Harry pulled away. He knew he should keep up his act, so as not to ruin her Christmas, but he really couldn't be arsed.

"No thanks," Harry replied, speeding off into the kitchen. He'd got used to using his flat as a home recently, mainly because he'd not drank anything in a good few months. "I'm just going to pop out actually."

Violet followed him out into the kitchen, not at all bothered about herself being completely naked. in fact, Harry was sure she was trying to use that against him, but he wasn't in the mood. He hadn't been in the mood for a while.

"You're shitting me right?" Violet asked, seriously, bending over the countertop as Harry conjured himself a cup of coffee. "It's Christmas day Harry, don't you wanna come back in the room? I've bought some things to make this day a bit more special... just for you."

Harry had seen those _things _at her apartment, in a big old box marked "Christmas", and frankly, they all looked extremely painful to him and not in any way enjoyable. He didn't know why Violet liked sex so... rough and fast. It was so impersonal. When Harry had first began... _seeing _Violet, he'd preferred it that way, but it had been a good few weeks now and he'd grown even more bored of her. She was just so ridiculous.

"I really can't be bothered," Harry told her. "I'm going out, I don't know if I'll be back tonight."

"What the fuck?!" Violet yelled. "You never even told me you weren't going to be here today! You could at least mention it! I put os much effort into today, and you're just not interested. You're _never _interested."

"Maybe we should break up then," Harry replied, not realising what he'd said until it was already out.

"Break up? Break up! You're breaking up with me?!?!"

Harry ruffled his hair, uncomfortable. "Uh, yeah...sorry."

Violet followed him as he headed into the bedroom, looking for some socks. "You're not serious." She told him. Harry ignored her and searched round for some socks, and she sensed her chance. She pushed him onto the bed and began to quickly fumbled with his zipper.

"Merlin! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?!" Harry roared, shoving her off him.

Tears began flowing down Violets pink cheeks. "Please Harry..." she sobbed. "Don't leave me, I couldn't take it... I love you."

"Oh shut up!" Harry told her. "You don't know the meaning of the word love. Love is something more than rough sex and the odd public appearance. Don't insult me by telling me you love me. You want someone to love you for sex, go to Azkaban and see if any deatheaters need servicing because it's OVER. I don't love you, I could never love someone so shallow and ridiculous. You think I'm oblivious to the fact that you're only with me for the fame? You think I care? No Violet, I don't care about you. I never did. Deal with it."

With that Harry conjured his socks and shoes before leaving his apartment and heading to the Leaky Cauldron to spend the morning with Neville and Hannah.

* * *

Hermione had the busiest Christmas ever. She woke up at at six and began owling anyone and everyone and by the time Ron woke up (at ten o'clock) she could barely believe her luck. Everything for tonight was perfect. Completely and utterly perfect. She kissed Ron hard on the lips that morning when she saw him, and for the first time in years she felt as if no pain could touch her or her friends anymore. She felt as if no one had ever been through any pain at all.

That morning, a couple of hours before they were due to head to the Burrow, Ron and Hermione got a visit from Harry and for the first time in five years, the three spent Christmas together and Harry actually enjoyed himself.


	18. tonight it's Christmas, tomorrow I die

**SORRY IT'S SHORT, BUT YOU KNOW GCSE's AND ALL. **

**P.S. I CHECKED SOME OF THE PAST CHAPTERS AND REALISED THAT THE SET-UP OF FAN-FICTION CHANGES MY PC SET UP AND SOMETIMES THEY GET ALL MIXED UP. I'M SORRY BUT IF A NEW TIME FRAME OR WHAT IS OBVIOUSLY A NEW SECTION BEGINS I'M SORRY IF I HAVEN'T MARKED IT.**

**

* * *

**

Ginny couldn't help but stare at her reflection in the mirror and grimace. She never used to grimace, she never used to care but she was a whole different person these days. A soulless, mindless, drone of a person. She'd spent hours getting ready, if she'd used magic she could've been ready in minutes but physically doing all the things a wand could do assured her she was still alive... physically anyway.

Her christmas had been one of nothing specials. The odd owl arrived from most of her siblings (except Charlie of course), and Greg had spent christmas with his parents, as had she. She received her usual christmas present, a wooly jumper, a box of home-made toffees, and socks. She bought her mother some chocolates, her father socks. They had sat down and had dinner, sat in the lounge for a while, but Ginny had spent most of the day in her room. Ron and Hermione had visited but she missed them. She had said little to her mother and father about it, but she suspected her crude hen party would arrive soon. She didn't even like most of the girls anymore, Gabriella, Georgia... they were all soulless and snobby. They were the only people who grew to like her more as she became more of a shell of herself, they were completely emotionless. Ginny didn't want to be friends with people like that, she told herself this everyday, her voice full of false bravado. _Who cares who my friends are? _she told herself. _It's not like it matters who I love anymore. _

It didn't feel like Christmas anymore. Christmas stopped at four o'clock, when presents were exchanged, dinner was eaten and all chocolates had been marginally devoured in front of the fireplace. The four hours Ginny had spent alone in her room felt like a whole other day, one between christmas and her wedding day. Oh, how she wanted another day before her wedding, another year. She was getting married in twenty one hours. The thought made her feel sick.

Ginny's stroked her hand through her hair, and as she did so, half a dozen hairs came away with it. Her hair had slowly been thinning over the past few weeks, getting worse every day. It used to be silky and long, but it was short and thin, and rough now.

Out of nowhere a loud crack sounded from behind her and suddenly a parade of girls stood in front of her.

"Surprise!" they yelled, clearly having rehearsed their greeting earlier. There were a minimum of twenty girls there, within them stood Gabriella, Georgia, Vitteroche, Penelope, Padma, Parvati, Hannah, Luna, Alicia, Angelina, Katie, and to Ginny's surprise, Hermione. She couldn't help but smile when she saw her best friend again after what felt like years, but the smile didn't last long.

Ginny didn't know how long they all stayed in the house for, she sat in her chair while the girls decided what she would wear and how to dress up her hair and things. Ginny didn't even see Hermione pick out the dress she'd chosen for Ginny and she barely blinked as Hermione transfigured her hair back to it's original length. They all hurried out the door and into the garden when Ginny was ready, already they were loud enough to be heard a mile away.

"Right!" Hermione called, gathering everyone's attention, it was hard, considering many of the girls here were quite simple. "HELLO?" she yelled, feeling guilty for being so loud in such a calm countryside. The girls all stopped chatting and turned to listen. Ginny just stared off into space.

"Okay then," Hermione began. "The plan for tonight isn't exactly your average hen-night." A few girls muttered suspiciously but Hermione carried on. "We are splitting up for now, but we'll come back together later in the night." As she had expected people got a bit confused there and the girls began arguing. "We are splitting up..." Hermione spoke loudly, over the other voices. "Because we're going to play a game. It's called The Honey Bee challenge-"

"What in Merlin's name is that?" Gabrielle snapped.

"Hermione..?" Katie, asked suspiciously. "What are you on about?"

"IF YOU'D LISTEN, I'D TELL YOU!" Hermione shrieked, sighing mentally.

That was when she explained the rules of her made-up game, and her plan began to unfold.

* * *

Harry sat in the Leaky Cauldron waiting for Ron to meet him. He hadn't expected to see him again on christmas but Ron had owled him unexpectedly for a drink. He had been very pleased to get the message, he didn't really want to spend christmas alone (although he'd rather spend it alone than with Violet).

Ron entered the Leaky Cauldron nearly half an hour late, he apologised profusely and promised to buy the drinks for the rest of the night.

"You all right' mate?"

Despite the fact that they hadn't really hung out in a long time, well not like best friends, the boys hit it off instantly, before Harry knew it they'd been sat for two hours joking, laughing, and Ron was very drunk (Harry always been abled to hold it better than Ron).

Neither Hannah nor Neville were on the bar tonight, and there was a feeling of the place that made it feel more like a club than a bar, music was humming a soft, but bouncy beat from somewhere and the place was actually bustling with people. Harry was surprised he hadn't noticed. He'd never been in here when there were more than seven people (except for Greg's so-called Stag, which didn't really count).

Harry was just grabbing the last pints of the night at the bar when a loud cheers came through the doors of the bar in the form of three young, very drunk young women. Harry thought they were young, early twenties at least. He recognised them from somewhere, he didn't know where. Before he knew it they were next to him, ordering drinks from the weedy, pubescent, uncomfortably awkward barman (boy-he looked about thirteen). Ron sauntered up to him in his drunk state.

"Hey Harry..." he whispered loudly, nearly falling over as he did so. "Look at them, never seen girls like tha' in here before..."

Harry's ears twitched he didn't like the sound of where this was going. Ron was with HERMIONE.

"Yeah..." Harry replied, thinking of ways to change the subject. "Hey Ron, how's the team?"

"I think I might, talk to them..." Ron hiccupped, ignoring him completely.

That was the moment the girls suddenly turned their attention to Harry and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Within a second, all three were chatting and giggling with him and Ron and were pressing themselves uncomfortably close to them.

"Why don't you come back with us?" one of the girls, a blonde, whispered to Ron. His face turned puce in excitement and he beamed at Harry, Harry frowned at him furiously. Ron didn't notice.

The thing with Ron was, and had always been, was that he was a sucker for girls. Any pretty female with battering eyelashes could turn him into a blob of jelly in a second. Harry knew it, Ron knew it, Hermione knew it... problem was, Ron didn't know it when he was pissed of his knocker.

"Harry..." Ron whispered, burping charmingly. "I'll just go home with these three and you-" Ron paused for another belch, "You can go back home and see Viola. Don't worry about me."

"It's Violet, Ron," Harry snapped. "And it's over between us."

Harry couldn't help but notice the girls' ears prick up.

"Oh," Ron looked extremely confused. "Well, you don't have to come I know it's not you're type of thing-"

"No!" Harry told all four of them, pulling out his most charming smile. "I want to!"

The look Ron gave Harry was equivalent to one he might give someone if they murdered his mother.

"You want to?" The blonde ask, mumbling into Harry's collar bone.

Harry hated acting, and he hated how good he was at it, but it was all for the best. Harry stared down at the blonde and bit her ear tenderly. "More than anything..." he whispered, watching as goose-bumps covered her scantily clad body.

The girls all stared at Ron for a second before completely changing their attention to Harry. He really didn't want to go home with these three drunk girls, but it was that or ruin Ron and Hermione forever... and they were sort of all he had. He left without a glance back at Ron, but he could feel his scowl burning into the back of his neck but he didn't care. Ron would thank him for this later.

As Harry and the three girls entered the Icy street outside Harry suddenly found he couldn't move... he couldn't yell, he could barely breathe and the girls were laughing. One of the three, leant down and stroked Harry's thigh roughly. "Don't worry Hun, if she doesn't want you, I'll let you tear me to pieces."

Harry felt his breathe catch in his throat, he was ACTUALLY being kidnapped, by three drunk witches. Harry was never particularly proud, but all he could think about was how The Chosen One, The Boy who Lived, The Saviour Of the Modern World, had let himself get kidnapped in the middle of the night by three GIRLS. _Well done Harry, _ he thought to himself. _You Twat. _

"Don't worry," one girl told him bluntly, sounding serious now. "We've clearly won this stupid little game, and we'll let you go afterwards."

The two other girls, Harry only just recognised as two quidditch players, smiled bitterly as they studied him intently.

"He's a lot taller than I thought..." the prettier of the two observed. She was blonde with big, over-grown, tacky eyelashes.

The other girls stood, waiting, as if expecting a call or a signal. Somehow they'd managed to capture Harry on one of the busiest wizarding streets in London at the only time it was vacant.

The third girl leant over and studied Harry's hair. She scowled and leaned back against a wall. "Merlin, His hair is filthy, you think he'd wash up on Christmas morning..."

The first girl tutted impatiently. "That's his look," she spat, her distaste for Harry obvious. "His whole image is the rugged I-don't-give-a-shit thing. He washes. Of course he bloody washes, he's just scruffy."

Harry sighed inwardly. If they kept on like this he was afraid he might actually die of boredom more than anything else.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny waited, and despite the fact they were doing nothing whatsoever, Ginny was grateful for the only thing she wanted on her hen-night: Peace and quiet.

Hermione had apparated Ginny to some sort of private wizarding bar with no one but them and the barmaid in sight. Ginny hadn't listened when Hermione explained her little game to all the girls, all Ginny knew was that they'd all been sent off to find something. She wasn't in the mood to party. She wasn't in the mood for anything but she was just happy to be doing something other than mentally cursing herself in the mirror for eight hours a day. She was happy Hermione was with her though, Hermione understood her more than any of the other girls, although Ginny hoped Hermione didn't understand her too much. She was surprised that Hermione was even there, let alone in charge but she could tell Hermione was up to something. It was that little twinkle in her eye that gave it away.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked quietly, inwardly wondering if she'd fallen asleep.

Hermione turned round and smiled, it was a pitiful smile... Ginny could tell. Her best friend didn't like her husband to be, GINNY didn't like her husband to be, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Ginny owed it to the people she loved to give up all the drama in her life, to stop letting everyone else concentrate on her primarily. She knew she'd been selfish for a long time and even Greg deserved better. All this mess was jumbled up inside her head and when it came down to it, she guessed she just wasn't brave anymore.

"What's up Gin?" Hermione asked, stress obvious in her eyes.

Ginny sighed. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing marrying Greg?"

Hermione's face stated impassive, with only a twitch of agitation. "Do you?" She asked, serious now.

"Yeah."

"Well then for the sake of our friendship never ask me that question again."

Ginny stared at Hermione for a while and dropped the subject. "How's Ron?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "He's fine, he's great."

"I'm sorry you had to leave him on christmas night."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione scolded her. "You shouldn't be sorry for having a hen-night. Especially not a surprise hen-night."

Ginny frowned. "Yes but I still don't see why the wedding had to be tomorrow, I mean, getting married takes up enough of other peoples time, I never wanted to interfere with their Christmases. It's selfish."

Hermione didn't want to talk about this, she could either agree or disagree and either way it would make neither of them happy. "Well, it's too late now."

Ginny opened her mouth to answer but before she could speak another syllable the bar door crashed open and Katie, Parvati and Hannah fell through it. They had obviously already been drinking. The sound of their laughter and chatter filled the bar and only when the doors closed behind them did Ginny see what the girls were up to. A tall man in wizards robes, with thickly built shoulders and just-shagged hair followed behind them, confused but excited. Ginny knew that he was gorgeous from the way the girls were clawing at him hungrily.

They were bringing her men.


	19. Win me back, amongst the sea of failures

"No, no no, Hermione! I don't like this at all!"

Ginny had dragged Hermione into the toilets, bowled over by how ridiculous the very concept of Hermione's plan. It was stupid, unfair, and careless... nothing like Hermione.

The toilets were dark and grungy, lit only by pink flames that illuminated all the dirty,cream tiles and handwriting all over them. There were three, partially broken toilet cubical and tow sinks, one of them miss a tap. Ginny didn't understand why Hermione would pick such a vile place to host her hen-do.

"Ginny," Hermione was standing strong. Everything in her posture told Ginny that Hermione would not let her throw this game away. Hermione was determined, but for what? It was obvious that Hermione didn't like Greg, but did she dislike him so much that she would throw complete strangers at Ginny in a bid to split them up?

"Ginny!" Hermione repeated herself, grabbing Ginny surprisingly tightly by the shoulders. Ginny blinked out of her silent, confused fury and focused on Hermione. "I know you don't understand," Hermione told her, her eyes slightly misty. "But I'm going to tell you something, and by Merlin's wand are you going to listen... You're due to get married to Greg tomorrow, and that's a big commitment, one we both know you're not ready for but you made it and if things run smoothly you'll go through with it. So considering that, tonight is your last night of freedom. You think life will change much for Greg after marriage? It's you that will be turned upside down Ginny. Salvage your last night as a free woman, because I promise you that by the end of tonight you'll be back with the love of your life again. Then there'll time for marriage and babies and a _real _commitment. One night of throwing your hands up in the air isn't much to ask from a woman who's about to feed herself to the wolves..." Hermione took a long breath after her speech and her eyes burned into Ginny's, a sparkle buried deep within them that told Ginny that Hermione was trying to make her happy again.

"Do I have to sleep with any of them?" Ginny asked, smiling in genuine humour.

Hermione barked a short, shrill laugh. "No... but I wont hold you back."

Both girls giggled together.

Ginny didn't know why, but she suddenly felt hope again, there was something in the air... an atmosphere of life.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, pulling at the collar of her dress nervously.

"What?"

"Promise me you'll hold me back though," Hermione grumbled. "I still have many days of freedom left, and I'd prefer not to spend them alone."

Ginny smiled and dragged Hermione back into the bar, where the real party was going on.

The Leaky Cauldron was quiet, it's black walls defined only by the dim, orange lanterns that lit the room barely. A few people were still here, it was around eleven now and there was still a festive spirit in the pub, despite all the earlier commotion with the drunken hen-night girls and the odd drunk that stumbled in. Everyone was in a good mood though, Neville had given everyone a drink on the house as a present and everyone was buying double because of it. The only person who seemed stressed was Neville, he was being his usual barman self, but he was missing his usual swagger.

Ron sat at the bar, a self-satisfied smile playing at his lips, as he read the prophet and watched Neville work his way through the Cauldron as if he were made for the job, not Hannah.

He wasn't drunk, he never had been, but he was very good at pretending he was. He had been surprised he'd fooled Harry though, if there was anyone in the world that knew what Ron was _really _like drunk it was Harry. It was a bitter thought to think that Harry didn't care, but it was true. Ron didn't mind though, he just hoped this bloody plan worked. Neville served a drink to a young couple before coming and sitting with Ron on the other side of the bar. Ron folded the paper away as Neville passed him another drink.

"Alrigh' mate?" Ron asked, noticing the dark circles under his old friend's eyes.

Neville shrugged and ran a hand through his thinning hair before chugging down half a tankard of ale. "There's just something wrong with Hannah... she won't tell me what you know? She's says nothing is up, but she's been jumpy all day and all night. You don't just turn into a nervous wreck for nothing over night..."

Ron studied Neville and wondered how, although he knew Neville had had a wonderful Christmas, one day could change a man so much and then he realised: Neville loved his wife more than anything else in the entire world.

It hit Ron then, what had turned Hannah to a wreck. "Neville..." Ron began, treading his words carefully.

"Tonight gentlemen, you are here to please a woman who deserves so much more than all of you put together. Don't worry, you're in no danger, but I'm sure you'll remember this night for the rest of your lives..."

Ginny couldn't help but smile as Hermione played mean. She's put a spell on Ginny so that she couldn't see any of the men's faces and they couldn't see her face, but apparently that didn't matter. Hermione said the men would have a chance to win Ginny's approval, and ten minutes alone with her.

The club was completely full now, all the girls were back and most of them had brought two men to every three women. The men were all stood against the back wall, hands behind their back, clearly captured against their will. Ginny didn't mind though, it wasn't like they were going to get hurt. The girls all sat on the bar tables and crowding around the men like a bunch of horny rabbits. Hannah sipped a drink nervously next to Ginny as Hermione played evil mistress to all the men, who could see her and Ginny perfectly well. Ginny only just realised how alluringly she was actually dressed, she got dressed without even thinking about what she put on but she was actually wearing a short, one shouldered, sky blue dress that Hermione had bought her for christmas. She was wearing heels that had made her feet go numb but she didn't really feel them anyway so she didn't care. She was having fun, and completely forgetting about her life.

"Gentlemen!" Hermione summoned their attention. Ginny couldn't even tell if they were all looking at her. "You can see the wild gabble of women around you, and within them there is the guest of honour. You shall not know her name and she doesn't have to know hers, but you have one chance, and one chance alone to charm her and she will chose which one of you is worth her time, effort and acknowledgement." Hermione turned to Ginny and smiled a wicked smile before continuing. "She can't see your faces, and if you tell her a complete blunder then she doesn't have to. You'll be set free to the rest of the girls." A loud, shrill cheer erupted from around the rest of the bar. All the girls were on their feet, ready to catch whatever men fell from Ginny's alter.

It was terrifying.

Ginny learned one thing in the next ten minutes: Never let a ministry official be in charge of a hen night. Hermione was mental. She seemed so desperately determined to make this evening the strangest, most exhilarating evening of GInny's life. Ginny was sat on a stool, surrounded by a horseshoe of invisible men, all of them expressing their love for her.

Ginny sat facing her third victim, all she could see of him was his shoulders, they were thick, strongly built and muscly. The man had a deep, gruff voice with a hint of a northern accent. Ginny tried to listen as he expressed his feelings towards her:

"You're different, I can tell that now," he told her, breathing naturally heavily. "I know someone special when i see them and you're special, you and your friend are different from the other girls, you got a conscience and brains. Your not just some doll who likes to fuck around with us blokes, you care about us all and i like you."

Number two was much less charming, but kind none-the-less: "All i know about you darling, is that you've got a pair of legs that could kill a racehorse and a beautiful voice, and that's enough to make a man fall over in a second."

"Thanks..." Ginny replied frowning at the slightly scary way the man leaned towards her.

Ginny frowned thoughtfully and moved onto the next man... and the next one... and the next one.

Most of the contestants just pulled out terrible chat up lines that made Ginny want to gag, but it was hard to tell if they were being serious or not when she couldn't actually see them, Hermione insisted she couldn't see them all until she'd picked her winner, which was awkward and difficult. There were twelve men in total, and GInny was feeling a bit exasperated as she got to number eleven. Number eleven smelled like ale and christmas, he was thick shouldered, tall, and strangely lanky, Ginny couldn't see his face but could see his hands, he was young, but not younger than her. His fingers were long and knobbly, as if he played the piano and his shoes were black skate type shoes that looked too big for him.

"Go on then," Ginny told him, leaning forwards, inhaling his festive scent. "Talk to me as if I'm the love of your life, as if you can't live without me." Just saying the words made her chest ache.

"But you_ are _the love of my life," them man replied, his voice was hoarse and low, as if he were ill. Ginny recognised it, but not recently, she felt as if she should've known the voice from her childhood, but that was impossible, this man wasn't old enough.

Ginny sighed loudly, rubbing her forehead. She glanced at Hermione, who, still ridiculously animated, mimed "give him a chance..." Ginny nodded. "Okay..." she replied, failing to hide the disbelief in her tone.

"You'll never truly believe me will you?" the man asked, leaning towards her. "I suppose that why... why don't you believe me?"

Ginny was curious at how casual this man was conversing with her, as if he'd known her for years.

"I've just met you!" She told him, shrilly.

"But you know I'm not lying..." them man replied, shifting again. "You need to listen now, because this is the only time I'll say it... you are the light of my life, without you I am a sky with no sun, a bird with no song, a wand with no magic... your face is the only thing that keeps me going at night when I'm screaming in my sleep and tearing at my own skin. When I look at other women I see nothing but empty, soulless shells that belong to other men who don't understand how deeply, and how passionately they should really love a woman and that love is something real, true, and the biggest, most powerful magic that ever existed. You are wonderful and you deserve to be loved, you'll never believe it until you give it a try, a real try..."

The whole bar was silent, and Ginny had a feeling every girl in that bar may have just fallen in love with the man in front of her, even she had broken out into a sweat and she hadn't done that for a long time. She had this urge to know this man to be with this man right now and everyone in the bar felt the same, possibly even the men.

"I pick this one!" Ginny told Hermione, her gaze not moving from the blur of a man that sat inches away from her.

"But, there's still one left..."

Number twelve stood up and faced Hermione, "I can't compete with Shakespeare love..." he told her, in a Yorkshire accent. GInny couldn't help but smile and she could tell her number eleven was smiling too.

Hermione smiled and suddenly the cloak was lifted from every man but number eleven. Ginny stood there staring at him for a second before Hermione whispered to them, "You'll see each other once your alone..."

Suddenly Ginny was being transported, squeezed, stretched and pulled through a vortex before landing on soft carpet somewhere much quieter, much calmer and there was only one other breath in the pitch black room. Suddenly he was there in front of her, holding her tightly so that his head rested on hers and her lips rested on his collarbone.

"I dreamed of finding you again," he whispered, and suddenly Ginny looked up into the glowing green eyes that haunted her in her sleep for longer than she could remember and realised who's arms she was in and who loved her more than anyone else in the entire world... and By George, it was Harry Potter.

Hermione had apparated out of that disgusting bar before she'd even seen Ginny's feet disappear into the vortex. She bounced into the Leaky Cauldron, terrifying about half a dozen people, but Ron looked up from his tense conversation with Neville and embraced her quickly, his eyebrows widening questioningly. She squealed with delight as she jumped into his arms.

"We did it Ron!" She laughed, kissing him on the neck as she did so. "You jammy bastard we did it!"

It was one of those moments for Ron, where you look at the person you're with and you realise just how caring and wonderful they are and just how much you want to be with them forever. They too had left the bar, before Neville had even cleared Ron's glass away and owled his wife for the sixth time that night.

It was a world where a man's soul could be broken in a second by another, and a world where murder was punished but accepted and a world where a man in love was nothing but a schmuck. Harry was a schmuck. His whole body felt as if it were soaking in sunshine as he stood in the darkness, staring down at the beautiful heart-shaped face that gave him butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't remember you being so romantic..." she whispered, holding him tighter. She smelled like sunflowers.

"I never had to win your heart from eleven other men before..." Harry told her, chuckling.

Ginny sighed, a content happy smile carved onto her face, thinking about those other men and how they might as well have been broomsticks for all the chance they had of charming her or any other woman for that matter. . "You won my heart a long time ago Harry..."

The words made the butterflies in his stomach dance, and he kissed her neck slowly and passionately as they fell down onto his sofa and held each other. Soon the kisses became hungrier and Ginny was returning them to him, as she unbuttoned his shirt and he slipped her out of her dress and they fell into bliss.


	20. Mornings suck

**Hey guys, sorry it's taken a while and it's not long but meh, who cares? As long as you like it I'm happy. R&R please :D**

* * *

It was 3 o'clock in the morning. The street outside glowed a warm, festive orange and emanated it's iridescent charm through the windows of Harry's apartment, melting onto every crowded, grubby surface. Harry's apartment had barely changed during Violet's residence, it was slightly cleaner, nothing was on the floor, but everything was just shoved in the corners of the room and out of the way. Despite the fact the place was clearly still a dump, it seemed to sparkle. Whether it was the ill fated Santa Lantern that had been ravaged by cats and was just about flickering to stay alive on the other side of the street, or whether it was the spring of fireworks that were just about visible out the window if you stood up and leaned right out and looked directly left but still managed to light up the whole sky.

Harry's theory, was a bit different. He lay in his bed on his side, stark naked, his pale skin appearing stone-like in the moonlight, and stared at the creature in-front of him. He'd woken up after possibly the most wonderful night of his life because ,despite the fact he was spooning her in his sleep, the love of his life had pulled all the covers off of him and his manhood had practically imploded with cold before he'd managed to rip them back out of her vice-like, unconscious grip. He let them cover them both, but he took the off of Ginny for a while, just so he could look at her. She was so beautiful: her ivory skin made her look like an angel in the moonlight, covered in light freckles and soft as butter. Harry smiled secretly to himself as he trailed kisses down from the back of her neck to the small of her back, and he stopped then only to pull the covers away. That was when he saw it: A bruise. Not your average I-walked-into-the-kitchen-counter bruise, it was more like that-bruise-is-so-convientiently-placed-that-it-couldn't-have-got-there-unless-someone-put-it-there type of bruise. Fury swelled up in Harry's chest and automatically he climbed over Ginny, careful not to touch her, and examined her goddess-like body for more bruises and sure enough he found them. Most of them resonated around her inner thighs and the small of her back. Harry could barely believe what he was seeing, and as this image of poor abused Ginny appeared before his once clouded eye, he saw her for what she had become: She was dying from the inside. Harry saw now that her skin was deadly pale, her hair was thinning rapidly, her eyes were consumed by dark bags, her ribcage was visible through her breasts and her hip-bones stuck out further than they should... she was emaciated.

Strangely, Harry felt, as well as feeling horrified for what had become of her, felt content... because she definitely felt the same way about him. Losing Harry had messed her up as well, if not more than it had hurt Harry. He no longer saw Ginny as some great prize that was his to win, he saw her as his team-mate, the person who was on the same level as him; they were gonna win together. At least he had kept relatively healthy and not succumbed to marrying a testosterone-fueled, overgrown, rapist mule. At that moment Harry swore to keep Ginny safe from everything in the world for as long as he could, especially Gregory Aldo, the man who now had a death sentence hanging over his head.

* * *

Ginny forgot where she was when she woke up, she expected to find herself in her bedroom, pushed to the edge of the bed by her overgrown fiancé and shivering in their cold apartment. It took her a few seconds to realise where she was and it was only when she glanced behind her at a mess of jet black hair poking out from under the covers and saw her clothes strewn about behind him on the floor she remembered. Without thinking, she smiled the biggest, glowing smile and flopped down back on the bed and giggled excitedly, waggling her arms and legs like a five year old. She could barely believe her eyes but she refused to let go of this moment, she felt her whole body relax.

After about five minutes, Ginny couldn't help herself, she wanted to see him. She slowly pulled the crisp sheets off of Harry's sticky body and gasped as he led on his front stark naked. She nearly chucked the covers back over him she was so shocked: he was so... _muscular_. His whole body was all muscle, no fat, and all completely flawless apart from the freckle Harry had always had on the back of his upper thigh. Ginny couldn't help but laugh as she saw Harry's peachy bum in the morning light and she was extremely tempted to smack it, or bite it... or something...

_What time is it? _Ginny wondered, leaning over to check the alarm clock on Harry's side of the bed smiling as the thought of him waking up to find her naked body hovering above him, her breasts dangling above his nose.

"Ten o'clock?" Ginny practically yelped. Suddenly a cold, dreaded feeling swept over her. She felt as if she'd just been dipped in liquid nitrogen.... she was getting married in just a few hours... or was she?

Ginny crawled out of Harry's bed and quickly rushed into the living room, tripping over Harry's trousers as she headed towards the kitchen. She found one of her shoes in the sink and it all came rushing back. It was as if Ginny had only just remembered the whole night, from the kissing in the living room, to the sex in the kitchen, to the sex in bedroom... to the talking in the bedroom. Harry, in some sort of drooling, dopey, sleepy state had spent over an hour telling her she was beautiful before he exhausted himself.

Ginny had just had the best sex of her entire life with the love of her life on the night before her wedding to her abusive fiancé because her best friend had hatched a plan to kidnap him and tie him to a chair with eleven other men so that Ginny would have the chance to see what she was missing... _I'm in a bit of a pickle... _she thought to herself.

Suddenly there was a high-pitched hoot and a large, dark owl soared through the lounge window and onto the kitchen counter, shoving the letter on it's foot at Ginny. Ginny petted it and sent it off before reading the letter:

_Ginny,_

_ I know you've had your reservations about getting married and you're scared, but I just wanted to tell you; we all feel that way. You are beautiful and no man will ever be good enough for you but Gregory is a good man, with good prospects and he loves you, I think he'll fit the bill as closely as possible._

_ So here I am on the morning of your wedding, already in my best clothes, telling you that you're not really scared, you're excited. You will go through with this wedding because you know it's right._

_ All my love, forever and always, my beautiful daughter,_

_ Mum_

Ginny read the letter a dozen times before sinking to the kitchen floor and crying, she must have been in tears for over an hour. Harry didn't wake up, which was just as well because Ginny knew what she had to do and it wasn't going to make either of them happy, but it was the right thing to do. It was too late for her.

Slowly and quietly Ginny crept round Harry's apartment, picking up her things and finding her clothes from last night. She slipped them on and when she was dressed she stood in the middle of the apartment, tears in her eyes and stared at the life she could've had.

She couldn't resist it, despite the fact she knew it would make this harder she had to see him one last time. Ginny slipped into Harry's room and knelt next to his side of the bed, watching his angelic face dreaming away. She hoped he was dreaming of happy things. She stroke his hair out of his eyes and kissed each one in turn, wishing they were open so she could see them one last time but she couldn't wake him. He deserved his piece.

"Harry?" she whispered, so quietly that she was talking to herself more than him. "I just want you to know I love you. I always loved you. You're so brave and noble and selfless and not a second goes by when I don't beat myself up for losing you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me Harry..." at this point tears streamed down her face so much it was almost impossible to speak."B-but..." she continued, "I _do _love you Harry, more than anyone else in the world. You always accepted me for me and chose to love me right away. I fell in love with you before I even met you and... the truth is... I never m-meant to l-let you go Harry, I was just broken. I felt as if... as if i weren't stable enough to be right for you and all our plans. We were going to be together, and get m-married and have kids a-and at the t-time I wasn't ready and instead of t-telling you and l-letting y-you down I just discarded you, a-as i-if you meant nothing. I need you to know that e-even though we'll n-never be abled to be together, that I-i would trade the world to be abled to kiss you every morning, t-to hold your hand walking down the street, t-to s-sleep in the same bed as you forever... and I love you more than I could ever bare to dream... I still have to say good bye though... be happy..."

With that Ginny kissed him on the nose, and crept out of his front door, only apparating when she reached the ground floor of the hallway, so as not to wake him from his dreams.

It was one of those mornings, you know, the ones where you wake up and you remember last night it's the reason you're smiling before your eyes are even open.

* * *

Harry buried his face in the pillow, snuggling away from the harsh sunlight with a smug grin on his face and out of curiosity glanced at his watch: It was 12 o'clock (ish), Harry had always been a heavy sleeper. Harry rolled over tiredly expecting to find something stopping him but instead he rolled straight over the empty space and onto the floor with a loud crash.

He sat up straight and rubbed his eyes, praying Ginny wasn't actually around to him fall off the bed, he looked around as found an empty room.

"Gin?" he called, curious and confused. Smiling slightly at how the name felt on his lips. _No answer._

Harry's stomach dropped slightly when there was no reply and he ran into the living room, bed covers round his waist. He ran in the kitchen and the bathroom and even downstairs in the hall... nope, no Ginny.

In the distance Harry heard Big Ben chime, and that was when he remember: Ginny was getting married today...

Harry slumped in the middle of the living room floor. "Well," he muttered bitterly. "Wouldn't want to get in the way, would I?" And then Harry did something he hadn't done since before he could walk, he sat in the middle of the floor and cried.


	21. Count Down

12:13pm - Three hours, forty-seven minutes until the wedding.

Hermione had spent the morning pacing.

She'd woken up at seven on the dot and paced the apartment for nearly two hours, she'd arrived at the burrow at ten, an hour early, to have her hair and make-up done and paced in the garden for an hour watching the snow fall , and now she was ready. She was stood in Ginny's bedroom, wearing a dark pink, fitted dress that made her legs look longer, her waist look slimmer and her boobs look bigger. She was wearing heels that were far too high and more jewellery than she would ever choose to wear. Her hair was clipped up, scraped back away from her face so it felt uncomfortably on view and it trailed down her back reaching past the low-cut back-line of the dress. She was definitely ready to play her part, but she could help but feel nervous.

She wasn't nervous about Ginny not showing up, that was the only thing she was sure of. Ginny would not show up. Everything had gone to plan last night and in Hermione's eyes Ginny was no longer due to get married today. The wedding ceremony would happen and Hermione considered it her job to keep the charade going until everyone realised there was no bride. After all, as maid of honour she had to perform her duties respectfully.

12:25pm - Three hours, thirty-five minutes until the wedding.

"Hermione!" Molly called up the stairs, her voice cheerful with a stressed undertone.

Hermione sped out of Ginny's room and leant over the banister to see Molly peering up three floors down. "What is it?" she asked, innocently.

"Have you heard from Ginny? Only, she's already half an hour late..."

"She just owled me." Hermione cut her off, lying expertly. "She said she slept in, she has to have a shower before she gets here."

"But Marie is waiting down here to do her hair!" Molly shrieked, not at Hermione, just in stress.

Hermione waggled an empty piece of paper down at Molly, "She says she'll do her own make-up, she'll be here within the hour."

Molly shrieked again in frustration before storming back into the kitchen. Hermione headed into Ginny's room again and led on the bed. That part was easy enough, but it was going to get harder. All she could do for now was wait.

01:04pm - Two hours, fifty-six minutes until the wedding.

Hermione sat in the kitchen, drinking tea with Marie. She'd let Marie do her make-up properly, just to pass time.

Molly was out in the yard, directing caterers and sending her second howler to Ginny.

It was getting harder and harder to make excuses.

01:37pm - Two hours, twenty-three minutes until the wedding.

Hermione opened her eyes to see the ceiling of Ginny's bedroom. Realising she must've fallen asleep she got up and looked in the mirror and at the time. It was nearly twenty to two, she'd only been asleep twenty minutes but that was twenty minutes too long. After making sure her hair was still in place and none of her make-up had smudged she rushed down the stairs, her mind running through excuses and plans to make sure everything went to plan and Ginny's absence was accepted for a little while longer.

The other Bridesmaids were here now in the kitchen, Gabriella, Georgia, Luna and Hannah. They all looked like a scene out of a movie, rushing round excitedly, picking up flowers and bracelets and handbags. it was only when Hermione reached their circle that she realised what they were all fussing about.

Ginny was here.

02:29pm - One hour, thirty-one minutes until the wedding.

Hermione still couldn't believe she was here, standing in the kitchen in her pyjamas with her hair and make-up done. Hermione had sat in the corner and watched as Marie transformed Ginny into the perfect, blushing, winter bride.

Hermione had tried to discretely prevent them all leaving, she'd used wordless, wandless magic and quietly piled snow up thickly around the doors of the burrow (Mrs Weasley had insisted that Ginny not use magic to get to the church, for fear of anything going wrong) but Mrs Weasley had noticed the snow and already had Bill, Charlie and Percy, shovelling it their tuxes. It appeared Molly was so scared using magic would set something on fire, or make things worse so the boys were forbidden to use magic for anything. Charlie had received a ten minutes bollocking after summoning the shovels from the shed all the way down the end of the garden because of the 'risk' he was taking.

Hermione had done things she never dreamed she'd do at her best friend's wedding: She "accidentally" stood on Georgia's dress and ripped the skirt, she'd "tripped" and thrown flour over all the bouquets, she'd forced Ron to send an owl saying he'd lost his bow tie, she'd transfigured the wedding cake so Mrs. Weasley thought the wrong one had arrived.

Still everything went without a hitch. It wasn't working.

03:19pm - Forty-one minutes until the wedding.

Ginny ushered all the girls out of her room, desperate for peace. She hadn't enjoyed this morning but she'd acted very... matrimonial, without actually saying anything. She was getting better at lying.

There was only one thing left before the fifteen minute drive to the church in Puckleberry; the dress. Ginny was still in her _Albert the Animagus _pyjamas. The second she closed the door she heard a voice below on the next floor:

"Hermione, she's just getting dressed..."

"FUCK OFF!"

03:23pm - Thirty-seven minutes until the wedding.

There was a loud crack behind her and as Ginny turned around to meet the intruder in her room, an collision echoed through the room, it took a second for Ginny to realise Hermione had just slapped her.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley I have never been so ANGRY at you in my entire life!" Hermione screamed, waving her wand in the air. Ginny felt the weird trickling sensation down her spine that meant Hermione had just performed the spell that meant no one outside the room could hear inside. "I'VE NEVER BEEN SO ANGRY AT _ANYONE _IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Ginny gave Hermione her best blank look. "I'm getting ready for my wedding."

Hermione appeared to turn molten before Ginny's very eyes. "Don't pull that shit with me. You might fool everyone else but I can see how red and puffy your eyes are under all that make-up. What do you think you're doing marrying Greg?"

"Greg and I have been engaged for months. I said yes. Therefore we're getting married."

Hermione sighed loudly, turning round she picked up a bottle of perfume and stealthily and violently launched it at one of Ginny's bedroom walls, it bounced at first and didn't smash until it hit the bedstead, covering GInny's bed and her wedding dress in glass and perfume.

"That was all very well," Hermione growled menacingly, "Until you turned anorexic, Greg started beating you, raping you, oh... and what was that last thing... oh yeah, YOU HAD SEX WITH HARRY LAST NIGHT!"

The words hit Ginny like a slap from a gust of wind, she heard them and she wanted to die but she hadn't gone through all the years of pain to be broken half an hour before her wedding.

Ginny's eyes appeared to darken as she spoke; "Hermione," she replied, warning in her tone. "I'm getting married in half an hour, you're going to be there. You have to be there, you're my best friend." Ginny spoke as if she were rehearsing parts in a play, that neither of them wanted to be in. "All I have to do is walk down the aisle. All you have to do is lead me there. Then we can carry on in peace."

Hermione stood, drowning in submission. After everything that had happened in the last few days, she'd just... ran out of ammo. She had nothing to say, she'd could think of nothing to do. It was over... she'd failed. Her arms felt so heavy as she realised there was nothing she could do anymore. She didn't blame Ginny, or Harry, or even Greg... she didn't even blame herself.

"Life is shit," Hermione grumbled bluntly, Ginny replied with a sarcastic smile as she pulled her wand out of her pyjamas and cleaned all the glass off her dress. Hermione watched.

"Help me get it on would you?" Ginny asked, no emotion in her voice. "We've got twenty minutes."


	22. It's too late

**I am SOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry that this took so long. My apology isn't even worth it, but I really am. WRITER'S BLOCK SUCKS!**

**HOPEFULLY THIS NEXT CHAPTER SHALL BE FOLLOWED BY 23 VERY SHORTLY. THANKS FOR NOT GIVING UP ON ME. Special thanks to Kevin for giving my inspiration an extra boost!**

**R&R please. Xx**

* * *

"So, what happens now?"

Mr Weasley stared at his wife with concern. She was surprisingly calm, despite the fact she'd had nightmares about this day for weeks. He could no longer count the days where the mother of his children had woken up crying, proclaiming herself a failure. Molly wanted nothing more than a good life for her children, it was the reason she'd had them, the reason she'd sent them all to Hogwarts, the reason she'd fought in the war. She'd only been left with six out of seven children after the war. Fred's death, (although it was horrible to admit it) had left George dead inside as well. Arthur knew what Mrs Weasley thought of this wedding: she was losing another child. At the end of today, she would be the mother of four men. She would lose her daughter today. Arthur did not know how she could sit quietly and wait for the procession to start, aas if she hadn't a car in the world.

"Ginny is outside," she replied. "The groom- " [she rarely spoke his name] "- is at the alter. All we need now is for the Maker to step announce her arrival."

The Maker was a small, quiet man with a calming presence about him. Wizards were rarely religious in this day and age so the building was more of a hall decorated in a church-like fashion. Muggle weddings were easier. A traditional wizard wedding was supposedly held in one of the dungeons at the ministry of magic, but those places had too many bad memories for the Weasley clan. The Dungeons would normally be decorated with sheets and layers of starry fabric and ministry flowers and guards. A wedding in the ministry dungeons was solemn and official. Muggles had made the affair much more enjoyable. They made it a party. _Well, _thought Arthur, _it depends whose wedding it is I suppose... _

The church was full of people, the grooms side on the left, the bride's on the right. Both sides were equally filled, Ginny's side was filled with family, friends, work-mates and students Mrs Weasley recognised from Hogwarts. Greg's side was about half friends and family, the rest were photographers and reporters he'd invited along. Ginny and Greg had argued about them being there but with Greg being a reporter, Ginny had to succumb to the fact that most of them were actually his friends, despite the fact that he clearly wanted them for publicity more than support. Greg was using today to boost his popularity. Ginny was just another tick on his checklist to becoming the worlds most famous reporter. Arthur did not like him, but he slowed himself to follow his daughter's wishes.

The doors were blown open by a gust of wind as more reporters filed in, snapping a dozen pictures a minute, yelling a heckling each other as the crushed people in the pews.

Mrs Weasley's smile was waning.

* * *

"THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!"

Hermione cowered in the corner as Ron's face quickly turned redder than his hair. Hermione had apparated him to Harry's flat the second she'd bumped into him outside the 'church' and from the look on her face, he knew it was all over.

Harry sat in the corner, his face pale and blank, his eyes cold and stony. Hermione was too frightened to look at him, let alone try to comfort him. She knew it would do no good. The only person she could try to help forgive themselves now was Ron and that wasn't going to be easy either way.

"Ron, we tried!" she tried to defend herself, even though she knew Ron was only angry with himself. This was exactly the type of thing he considered his job and had since the day Ginny was born. Things that no one had any control over.

"What can we do?" he asked her, the desperation in his eyes burning like fire. "There must be something!"

Hermione had been assured by Ginny that she wanted to do this. Even if she was doing it for the wrong reasons, the wrong people and the wrong morals she knew Ginny had to fight to the end. Ginny couldn't bear to break another person's heart and although Hermione didn't believe Greg truly loved Ginny - like Harry did - she knew Ginny would not take that risk.

"We can't exactly kidnap her Ron!" she saw Ron's face change as she said the words, a flicker of hope bounced across it. "NO! Ron, she'd desert us and go and live with that... that PRICK forever. I promise you."

Ron stared at Hermione in silence, no noise echoed through the tiny flat. The place was a mess, and for once Hermione didn't care. The only thing she could think about was Ron, his anger, his sister, and his best friend curled up in the corner, his eyes blacker than ebony. He looked dead inside.

"I can't let her do this, Hermione" Ron groaned, hugging his girlfriend.

"Only she can stop it."

Eventually Ron collapsed on the sofa and hermione looked at her watch. Ten minutes till the wedding.

* * *

The 'church' really was beautiful. Adorned in lilies and roses, silent fireworks and comical love hearts bounced about the place, bopping into the heads of the odd guest. It was the perfect celebrity wedding and Greg was lapping it up like a leech in a hospital. Ginny could see him through a tiny crack in the door, chatting to a group of reporters, nonchalantly punching one on the arm as he boomed with laughter. They all studied the room with eager eyes, many of them had attempted to sneak into the room in which Ginny was perched, watching Gabrielle and Georgia fiddle with their hair and boobs, mindlessly giggling.

Only dread filled her body, _dead man walking, _she thought.

Just as Ginny felt she were about to burst into tears, George slipped into the room, smiling bravely.

"Hey Gin, you ready?" he asked, grumpily ignoring the other girls cooing him over.

"As i'll ever be." Ginny replied, willing herself not to let the tears spill.

George knelt down so that his face was no more than an inch away from his only sister, he stared at her seriously. "You know," he whispered so low only she could hear, "You've still got a choice."

Ginny's head whipped up in shock.

"I know there's... six minutes until you're supposed to be out there but it's never too late to follow your dreams Ginny." George, cough silently, anxiously glancing at Gabrielle and Georgia to check they weren't attempting to listen in. They were, but quickly left the room.

"There's no time," Ginny told him. "It's too late."

"That's my point Gin! You don't have to force yourself to do this, live your life, don't ruin it." his head lowered as he spoke. "Some people don't get to live as long as you will... Fred wouldn't want this."

Ginny felt her anger flare at George's words, it occurred to her that he was doing this for Fred, not for her. Her heart broke for many different reasons.

"Fred is DEAD." she snapped, watching George wince and stumble backwards. "It's been years George, and yet still it comes back to him. THIS IS MY DAY, NOT HIS! TRY AND THINK OF IT AS THAT. IT ISN'T JUST ANOTHER DAY HE'LL MISS, THERE'S MORE TO LIFE THAN HIM!"

Ginny didn't realised how loud she'd been yelling until the whole 'church' fell silent. It was only seconds before Mrs Weasley tottered in the room.

"Whatever is the matter? Ginny, you've got two minutes."

George held his mothers arm anxiously. "She doesn't want this mum, Fred wouldn't want this."

"SCREW FRED!" Ginny roared, shocking her mother so much so that she stepped backwards. "Don't you think this day means more to me than what you think your dead twin would want. I am more than just one of his MISSED OUT MOMENTS!"

Mrs Weasley turned a whiter shade of pale before turning to George, "George, can you go and check on your father please?"

"But..!"

"That wasn't a request." The authority in Molly's voice was definite, and George left the room.

"Now, what do you want?" Mrs Weasley asked, patiently.

Ginny was confused. "Sorry?"

Mrs Weasley smiled pityingly, "Well obviously you don't want to be here, but you scream and fight declare you do. Now, the only reason I've gone along with this is that I refuse to miss my only daughter's wedding, even if it doesn't please me as a reunion. Now either you're going to be the beautiful, blushing, illuminated bride, and you're going to marry this man or you're going to leave. Right. Now."

There was a knock at the door, the maker popped his head in. "Ladies? We're behind schedule, are you ready to do this?"

The room was silent as Ginny attempted to keep dry eyes as she made the biggest decision of her life. NOW was her only chance, after this she couldn't save herself. After this there was no turning back.

"Well Ginevra?" Mrs Weasley, enquired. "Are we ready to do this?"

* * *

As the band began to play, all love hearts floated up to the ceiling, the firework, fell as white rain down the sides of the isle, creating a beautiful walkway. The band consisted of an accordion, a djembe, a dobro and the 'church' organ. Together they created a mythical sounding melody, with features of ragtime and romance. The music was perfect, it sounded not only romantic, but apprehensive. It created a tension, that a battle was about to commence within the walls. It was a battle, and Ginny intended to live through it.

When she stepped out of her little room into the great hall, the fireworks created a wall round her so that she could not yet be seen, subconsciously she felt her father's arm slip through hers. She felt him kiss her hand, but all she could see was this mass of white ran, hypnotising her into a daze of confidence. She was safe. She would get through this. Slowly she stepped forward, the carpet soft and languid beneath her. Even in her uncomfortable dress that she had oversized and over decorated so that it was far heavier than it should've been and her high heels that prevented her from tripping and ripping it she felt comfortable. She saw the isle as a long walk, and intended to take her time before reaching the end. Her bridesmaids lead her, first Georgia, then Gabrielle and then Hermione - who did not turn to look at her. She walked with the beat, but it didn't seem slow enough. Before she knew it, twenty pews away turned into fourteen, then nine, then four, until she could see Greg, his white smile beaming. He stood tall, his ponytail ties neatly behind him. His stumble was clean as opposed to his usual scruffy self. He stared at Ginny patiently, she couldn't see any affection in his eyes. She knew what she did see: possessiveness. He was desperate to own her. To reign in his horse.

Mr Weasley sat down as they reached the maker and Greg took Ginny's hand.

"Hello, sweetheart." he whispered, kissing her cheek.

She look up at him and smiled a tight smile as his arm slipped round her waist. "Let's get married," she whispered.

The Maker greeted her with a smile before jumping as the doors slammed open at the back of the hall. Everyone - all fourteen hundred people - turned to look as Hannah and Neville slipped in sheepishly before taking their seats behind the Weasley clan. Hannah carefully adjusted her fuschia hat and dress as she slipped into her seat, Neville looked as if he were about to be sick. As one of the reporters closed the door the Maker began to speak. Ginny only brought herself back to the room when required to speak.


	23. Echo

"When two people agree to marry, it is more than a contract. It is a promise, a promise that love will conquer all and that together you shall stay for as long as your hearts are true..."

The Maker spoke slowly and quietly, as many old men do, he never stumbled and spoke each words as if it were the most important word in the world. His voice echoed round the hall, filling the ears of the hundreds of witches and wizards that came to see two Local celebrities get married.

Ginny wasn't listening to the maker and his softy spoken lecture. She stared at the wall behind him, willing for the ceremony to end, so that she'd made a decision. She hated this limbo. Right now, she was not married and therefore could still think about _him. _About the way his eyes glistened in the sunshine, how his eyelashes were so long and graceful. His shaggy dark hair that had a mind of it's own. How his body was almost completely muscle, it rippled beneath his skin... the though made Ginny's stomach twitch.

"Together, you shall make an new, more powerful magic than-"

Suddenly, making Ginny and almost every other person in the room jump, a loud cra-aaaack resonated throughout the hall, bouncing of every surface and back again. Ginny turned behind her to see Harry Potter stood in the isle, in a dishevelled suit. His eyes were terrifyingly swollen. _He's been crying... _Ginny realised, the thought made her wanted to throw up.

"Sorry I'm late!" Harry slurred, his voice breaking as he spoke. Camera's began clicking violently around the hall, the flashes flickering every second for at least a minute. Harry stared directly at Ginny before he felt a tug on his arm, Neville had reached over and plonked him next to him in the pew. Harry was completely aware of Greg watching him, and he watched Greg as his eyes flitted over to Hannah, Harry felt his temper rise as Greg winked at her. Neville tensed beside him. Hannah turned pale, and her eyes began to water.

Ginny noticed this silent exchange. She noticed the look of fear in Hannah's eyes.

"Right..." the Maker called, breaking the silence. "As I was saying, you two shall be untied through strength, through magic, through politics, through fortune, through children and through emotion. Marriage shares all and everything, nothing to gain and nothing to lose..."

Ginny couldn't listen. SHe could feel Harry's eyes burning into her neck, she could feel the sadness emanating from him. It took her over like a hot flush. She suddenly felt the need to be sick, she silently retched.

_How could he be here? _Ginny screamed mentally. Harry was part of her other life, he was never suppose to be involved with Greg. Greg was a different world to Harry. Harry was the young romance that made Ginny weak at the knees. Harry was the hero, famous before he could walk, all he ever wanted was to be normal. Greg was the later romance, that was at first very romantic. Greg had turned into the nightmare, Ginny pictured crumbling walls of molten lava and airborne flames behind his every word. Greg fought for attention constantly, he was charming and always in the middle of everything. All he'd ever wanted was to be the front page. Two completely different men, and Ginny.

"What's he going to do?" Ron whispered, through gritted teeth.

"I honestly don't know..." replied Hermione, just as quietly. "Surely he's not here to watch?"

"I suppose he felt he should witness the worst day of all our lives."

Hermione sighed, "I should say you're exaggerating, but I don't think that's the case... _c'mon Harry..."_

"Ginny, forever I will hold you, help you and respect you as my wife, for as long as I shall live."

Greg's vow floated round the room, to the untrained ear he sounded romantic and charming. To harry, he sounded like a liar. He spoke the words with nothing. There was no meaning behind what he said, not to him anyway.

Luckily, Ginny didn't have to speak vows, as was wizard law, the wizard must declare his love to the witch. She is required to accept it and not verbally return it unless she wishes to. Ginny said nothing. The maker continued:

"Now, is there anyone is this room who believe these two people should not be joined in magical matrimony?"

"Right..." Harry mumbled, straightening up. Neville frowned at him curiously as the hall remained silent for the full required minutes.

"Harry? What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"I'm performing my role at this shambles, Excuse me!" Harry called, standing up in his pew.

"Yes, Son?" The maker replied, curious. "Do you have a reason as to why these two should not be joined in magical matrimony?"

Harry nodded and before anyone could stop him, he drew his wand and flicked it at Ginny. Cameras started clicking frantically.

"What are you doing?" Greg demanded, storming over to Harry. "Come on Harry, mate. Sit down" Greg attempted to lead Harry back to his pew but Harry shoved him off as shocked gasps began popping up around the room. Everyone stared at Ginny. Slowly, one by one, all the bruises Greg had left on her over their time together revealed themselves, black, blue and purple.

"Does that look like matrimony to you?" Harry yelled at Greg before pushing him away again and heading over to a shocked Ginny, who did not understand what was going on.

There was a sudden scuffling sound from a couple of the pews and Harry turned to see guests holding back the five Weasley brothers as they scrambled towards Greg, in uproar. The whole church filled with noise, photographers ran down the sides of the pews, trying to get a close picture.

"This is a mistake!" Greg insisted, scampering over to Ginny and standing next to her side. "Tell them Gin!"

"I... I don't understand..." Ginny whimpered, stepping away from him.

Greg gripped GInny's arm tight and she began to whimper. "Greg, you're hurting me!"

Greg ignored her cries and shook her forcefully. "Tell them"

"I don't know! I don't know anything!"

Hermione climbed over her pew into the isle. "Look at your hands, Ginny!" she yelled, holding onto Harry who was desperately attempting to pull Greg off of Ginny. Ginny did as she was told and saw the black bruises round her wrists that had made her cry for weeks in a row.

The Maker looked back and forth and round the church. First at Harry and Hermione who stood, facing Ginny and Greg. Then at the Weasley family, who we desperately attempting to reach Greg. The hall was filled with angry yells and clicking cameras. Mr and Mrs Weasley were silent, staring at their daughter in shock.

"Ginny?" Harry whispered, stepping forward. "Come on, lets go home..."

"Her HOME is with ME," Greg declared, stepping over to face Harry. Although Harry was considerably shorter, it was obvious who was leering over who.

"GET. AWAY. FROM. ME." Harry growled. He stared at Greg in the face, daring him to come closer.

"Or what?" Greg chuckled, carefree.

"Or I'll make you."

Greg stepped backwards and laughed, pretending to have obeyed, but only Harry anticipated Greg's fist flying towards him and he dodged it swiftly. Just as he met Greg's gaze again another fist flew out from somewhere and smacked Greg in the jaw, the crack echoed, creating a silence throughout the rest of the hall. Harry looked next to him to see Neville, crouched slightly holding his wrist.

"THAT'S FOR MY WIFE, ASSHOLE!" He declared forcefully, shoving Greg away with his foot before massaging his hand. "Owww..."

Harry ran over to Ginny, who was wobbly on her feet. Harry knew she was about to feint and caught her just before she hit the ground.

"Ginny?" he whispered, sitting down, her in his arms. Her eyes flittered open slowly.

"Hi..." she mumbled, holding his face. "I'm so sorry..."

Harry nodded, lifting her into a sitting position.

"No I'm really sorry... for all the things I did to you."

Harry sensed she was reminiscing.

"I love you, I always loved you. I didn't want you to leave Harry. I never wanted to you leave. please, PLEASE, believe me."

A small pain jabbed at Harry's chest and he scanned the room so that he didn't have to look Ginny in the eye and let her see his tears welling. Mr and Mrs Weasley had stood up and silently ordered hundreds of people to leave the hall, everyone was quietly filing out, apart from the odd reporter attempting to get a shot of the scene. The Weasley brothers we sat round Hannah, comforting her as she cried into Neville's shoulder. They all stared at Greg's unconscious body with disgust.

Harry felt a soft and tender grip on his jaw and felt his face turned to Ginny's. She slowly pulled herself up and kissed him. The kiss was passionate. He felt her lips moulding into his as tears silently fell down both their faces. A sense of true happiness filled his hearts as half the world's press, his best friends and his family watched him with the woman he loved.

"No need to apologise Ginny. Not anymore." Harry stood up, holding Ginny in his arms as he did so. "I love you."

"I love you too..." Again she kissed him on the nose and he chuckled.

Just as Harry knelt down to settle her in a pew no one was quick enough to stop the fist that flew into Harry's face and chucked him into the wall at the front of the church. Greg had woken up and he stormed towards Harry and gripped his neck tightly and squeezed.

The whole Weasley clan whipped out their wands but none were as quick as the bride. Greg was slowly lifted up into the air and Ginny threw him the whole length of the church into the brick wall down the other end. She concentrated forcefully as she picked his body up again and threw it to the floor walking up to meet him as Greg lifted his head to stared at her. Her face shocked him, it was... strong. It was confident.

Ginny knelt down until she was an inch away from his face, through gritted teeth she whispered "Get out of my life, you worm." Again she threw him, this time with less force, but he fell out the church doors as they slammed behind him.

"Dick..." she muttered.

Turning round, Ginny was faced with her family: All their faces were beaming, rosy red with pride. Ginny beamed a great smile at them before running over to Harry as Hermione and Ron lifted him to his feet. Ginny ran at him and threw her arms round him again. She couldn't help but start crying again.

"Please don't ever leave me, Harry."she wailed, kissing his neck.

Harry barked his famous laugh. "What? And write a sequel?"

Ginny giggled before letting Harry Potter pull her into a brave kiss. She held his face as they kissed, feeling her knees wobble as the whole family politely began apparating out the room.


	24. Epilogue

**Tis the End of an Era people. CAN I just thank tose of you that stuck with me all the way, it's been a brilliant experience and I promise you haven't seen the last of me yet. Xx**

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The Burrow was filled with the light hearted sounds of laughter. Today, the whole Weasley family had come together in complete tranquility, all of them at peace with themselves, each other and the world. Tonight was New Years Eve, and despite it not being in the Wizarding holiday, the family decided to celebrate it anyway. It was an excuse to celebrate.

Whilst Molly had a moment to pause, in between rushing about with different plates of food and drink, she studied her now even bigger rambunctious family. All of her babies were happy: Bill had Fleur and the kids, Charlie was a content Bachelor, Percy had the twins after his divorce, George had Angie and the kids, Hermione and Ron were as strong as ever, and finally her only daughter had let herself be with the man she'd loved for over a decade. All Molly's children fought in the war and she was possibly the proudest mum in the world, but of all her children, of Ginny she proudest. Molly Weasley knew that some things were scarier and more painful that war. Ginny was content with all her brothers, laughing and joking like one of the boys... but she never let go of Harry's hand and rarely took her eyes off him. Molly couldn't be grateful enough to Harry for saving her daughter but in the end he didn't do it for Molly. The way they looked at each other, Harry acted as if she were the most magical thing in the entire world and although after their recent turmoil and pain they both looked thin and drained, Molly had never seen two people so beaming, so joyful and so full of love.

It had been years since the final battle, but the Weasley battle had finally won the war. The influence of Molly's lost child hung in the air of the Burrow. Molly still cried sometimes, willing him to have lived the life she'd wanted for him but her children were an asset to his memory. They remembered their brother and spoke about him as if he were with them just yesterday. Even George was happy to talk about Fred these days. Molly knew it was wrong, but now that Fred was gone all she could do was notice how different he and George were and how easy it should've always been for her to tell them apart. George's eyes were small than Fred's, but Fred's smile was wonkier. Either way they were beautiful.

Molly loved nothing more than the sight of all her children and grandchildren laughing and chatting round their huge dining table.

As she felt a pair of arms wrap round her waist Molly jumped, only to smell Arthur's aftershave as he kissed her on the head.

"You all right, my dear?" he mumbled, holding both her hands.

"Better than all right, Arthur," she replied, kissing one of his hands and holding it to her chest. "They're all happy."

Arthur chuckled lightly. "Your mission is complete, Mrs Weasley. What on earth are you going to do with all your time now?"

"Well..." Molly sighed. "I suppose now I'll just concentrate on being a normal grandma, a normal mum and... a normal wife. It can't be that hard can it?"

"No. It'll be impossible, but we'll work it out now that they're all happy... it was a close call there, wasn't it?"

Molly was surprised. She and Arthur had made a silent commitment never to mention how close they were to losing their daughter, but she supposed Arthur was happy to talk now. Now that it was all in the past.

Molly sighed again. "Too close," she told him. "Far too close."

"Do you reckon we should've-"

"Arthur, don't." Molly scolded, pausing to be interrupted by a huge roar of laughter from around the table. "He was meant to save her, not us. You can't mess with that sort of destiny."

"See this is why I love you, you're always right."

Molly laughed. "I love you too Arthur, more than you know."

Hermione frowned disapprovingly as Ron folded and shoved an entire cornish pasty in his mouth before carrying on talking to the rest of the group, proceeding to spray them with pastry. They all moaned at him in unison before throwing things in his direction, most of which proceeded to land on Hermione who was sitting on his lap.

"For goodness sake, Ron!" she grumbled. "Can't you eat like a civilised person?"

"Don't start Hermione..." he whined,swallowing his huge mouthful.

"You eat like a pig, now we're BOTH covered in crumbs, not to mention the rest of the Weasley regiment! Lord, how did i end up with you?"

Ron looked shocked at her comment but realised she was joking when she smiled and giggled at him. He frowned at her teasingly. By this time the rest of the table had carried on their conversation without them.

"Jeesh woman you're like my mother!" Ron goaded, ignoring Mrs Weasley's indignant grumble from across the kitchen.

"Only, _she _doesn't have to share a flat with you." Hermione laughed. "I really am not sure why I love you Ronald Weasley."

"So, it's not my good looks and charm?"

"Good looks and charm? God no! Seriously, where have you been hiding those little blighters?"

"Good one, MUM," Ron smiled, kissing her on the nose.

"I'm more like your wife."

"This is true. Shall we get married then?"

The whole room exploded with silence and stared at Ron. The most surprised face was probably Hermione, who looked genuinely shocked at Ron's random proposal. They'd been together years now, and she had sort of given up on marriage. She genuinely couldn't believe it, the silence rang in her ears as she tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Harry broke the silence, "Smooth, Ron." he chuckled. "_Real _smooth."

The entire Weasley family laughed lightly at their brother while they all stared at Hermione desperate for her answer. Molly clung onto Arthur as if to stop herself from falling.

"OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU!" Hermione cried, engulfing Ron in such a passionate, steamy kiss that the rest of the family looked away as they all cheered and magicked champagne glasses out of thin air.

"Finally, Ron!" Bill jested, handing a glass to Fleur. "I thought she'd leave you before you did the right thing and married her."

"I would've," Ginny teased.

"I could never leave Ron!" protested Hermione. "I am relieved though..."

Ron frowned, "Relieved?" he inquired. "Did you honestly think that I would NEVER ask?"

"No, no, it's just that being the traditional girl that I am I wasn't looking forward to having a bastard child."

Ron nodded absentmindedly, before realising what Hermione had just said. His jaw dropped. The rest of the room cough and spluttered on their champagne.

"You're serious?" George and Charlie asked at the same time.

Hermione nodded.

"Oh my god, Hermione!" Ginny leaned over from Harry's lap and hugged her friend/ future sister-in-law.

Ron still stayed in a state of silent disbelief.

"See, I always thought Ron would be the one out of all of us to shoot blanks." George informed the rest of the group.

Everyone scolded him for his inappropriate comment, trying not to laugh. Ron didn't even appear to hear what he'd said.

Percy chuckled heartily along with George, far by knowing that before Ron everyone expected it to be him.

"Oh well," George proclaimed. "I guess it'll be Harry then."

Harry's mouth fell open before laughing along with the rest of the brothers. He couldn't help but feel especially accepted into the family by George's insulting comment.

"There's nothing wrong with my...! You know... can we change the subject, please?" Harry pleaded, fully aware of Ginny collapsing with silent laughter in his lap. He poked her in the waist and she tried to contain herself.

"Hermione?" Fleur asked. "Is he okay?"

Hermione looked back at Ron who still appeared to be catching flies with his face. She frowned at him worriedly.

"Poke him or something," Bill suggested.

Hermione poked Ron in the nose and he blinked back into consciousness and stared straight at her.

"A baby?" he cried, his voice breaking as it did when he was thrown off guard.

"Cooking as we speak," Hermione assured him, hugging him as she did so. Ron still looked as if he would never be abled to blink again.

"Mum!" Ron called nervously, Mrs Weasley chuckled and slipped over to her son, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. "I've got a baby cooking..." he spoke more to himself than his mother.

"I heard, dear, congratulations." Mrs Weasley kissed them both on the head.

"Don't worry, Ron." Percy told him comfortingly. "Kids aren't the end of your life, in fact... this is just the beginning."

"So, what do we do now?" Harry asked, collapsing on the sofa.

Harry and Ginny had moved into Harry's flat, and after nearly a year of travelling around the world had arrived back home. The had lived through so many adventures, from learning Mermish in Bulgaria to flying to the moon in the shell of the world famous flying tortoise. Harry and Ginny had had their union consummated within the amazonian rain forest and gone round every village they could in Africa and conjured wells and charmed water clean. They had healed people and fallen asleep on the top of a modrock hut, watching shooting stars. Harry had taken Ginny on her first ever aeroplane flight, and been forced to promise never to do so again. Harry had taken Ginny to the North Pole and they'd made love under the Northern lights. They'd visited France, Germany, Northern America, India, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Madagascar... everywhere they wanted to visit until they wanted nothing more than home.

They had very few things, and despite his best efforts to convince Ginny to book a flight, they'd apparated back to England from Moscow that morning and had finally reached home after a series of visits to the family ending with Ron, Hermione and six week old Rose (who had been born in Australia, at Hermione's parent's holiday home. Harry and Ginny had been there to support and were proudly crowned godparents).

Home was such a comforting place now Ginny lived with him. Harry had let her do what she wanted with the place and she'd made it home. They'd not spent much time home since Ron ad Hermione's Wedding (held in the bottom of France) only popping back during their troubles to find forgotten Robes and hairbrushes and things. It still felt right, Harry couldn't - and didn't want to - remember how he'd lived here without Ginny. She was his world.

"What do you mean?" Ginny questioned, flopping on top of him.

"Well what comes next?" Harry explained. "There's always something next."

"Harry," Ginny cooed, "There doesn't have to always be something next. It's time to just... live."

Harry pondered this idea. He'd spent most of his life hiding from Voldermort, and then planning to defeat him. After that, without GInny he'd fell into a pit of self hatred. Then there was his mission to get her back, their goddaughter, their travels... their was always something next.

"Humour me..." Harry told her. "What do YOU want to do next?"

"Me?" Ginny, thought deeply for a second. "I want to get married."

Harry barked with laughter. "Is that a request?"

"No, not really. More of a suggestion."

Harry realised Ginny was actually nervous about saying this and he hugged her tightly.

"Any particular reason?" Harry asked, she frowned at him. "No, what I mean... why now? I would've married you a year ago if you'd asked."

"I wasn't pregnant a year ago."

Harry was silent. Ginny laughed. "Well," she said. "And because of our travels and stuff, THAT needed to be done. And obviously I want to marry you because I love you and stuff, but I'm traditional like Hermione too and I don't want to be all fat in my wedding dress."

"Right," Harry replied frowning. He was going to be a father, a daddy. "How long does that leave us?"

"I think we should do it within the month."

Ginny saw Harry turn slightly pale, as he contemplated this idea.

"You do want to, don't you?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"Of course! it's just overwhelming." he looked into GInny's eyes and felt himself warming. "Right. SO that's what's next: Wedding. Then baby. Let's do it. As long as I've got you, we'll do it all."

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THE END Xx


End file.

Harry Potter, Angst, Romance