Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

A/N - Written for the Hogwarts Ancient Runes Class, using the prompts Happy/House Elf/Red.

Expectations Lost

No one understands that we are not our parents. We may look like them, Harry in particular, but that doesn't mean we have to follow in their footsteps. James Potter became an Auror. Does that mean Harry has to? My Mother was a stay at home mother, raising her children herself. Does that mean I have to? The expectations are the worst. The whole world has expectations of us, and we'll never be able to meet them. So why try?


Ginny sat in front of the fire, waiting for Harry to get home from Auror training. He wasn't enjoying it, he moaned enough to her about it that she knew he wasn't, but he wouldn't do anything about it.

Her mother was already on their cases about getting married. That was where Ginny had come from, The Burrow. She had enjoyed part forty seven of the same bloody argument they had every time they were in the same room. Yes, Ginny had left school, but that didn't mean that she needed to get a ring on her finger as soon as possible. She migh

A ring wouldn't make her a better person. It wouldn't make her more attractive, or more friendly. It wouldn't make her be kinder, or settle her temper. At the moment, the thought of a wedding ring filled her with as much dread as a ball and chain would.

She heard Harry before she saw him, muttering to himself in the hallway as he took off his cloak and boots. She sat up in the chair, waiting for him to join her.

"Ginny!"

His face lit up in a happy smile and she allowed herself a sense of satisfaction that it was her who put it there. They were still in their 'honeymoon' phase, according to Hermione. Still, she felt better when Harry was around as well.

She stood to greet him and was quickly pulled into a bone crushing hug as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Bad day," she asked when he released her, sitting beside him on the sofa she had just vacated.

"Same as every other day, I suppose," he replied, looking downcast.

She sighed, and took his hand in hers.

"Harry, we need to talk."

If it wasn't such a serious moment, she'd have laughed at the alarm on his face. Instead, to settle his nerves, she smiled at him.

"No, not that kinda talk. I love you. We need to talk about the lives we're living. You're not happy, I'm not happy. I don't want to stay at home and raise a bunch of rugrats, not yet at least, and you don't want to be an Auror."

"It's expected though, isn't it," Harry replied in a dead voice, his head so far down it was almost resting on his chest.

"Screw what people expect. We're a young couple who just fought a war. We have time to be grown ups, Harry, in a few years. We didn't have the option of being teenagers, of being free, of being young. We can travel, Harry, or have days out in the Muggle world. We can stay in bed all day, and eat takeaway every night. We can do what we want."

Harry smiled at her. "You want to travel?" he asked, his eyes lighting up at the very thought.

"I'd love to travel," she told him, squeezing his hand.

"Then we'll travel. Go on and get ready, we'll go to that new Italian restaurant in Diagon Alley."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to Floo Kingsley. I'm going to need extended leave from the Auror Program, effective immediate, possibly permanent."

"I didn't mean we need to leave tomorrow!" she told him, but if she said she wasn't happy, she'd be lying.

"Hmm. Go and get ready."

With a quick kiss to her lips, Harry was in front of the fire, calling out for the Minister of Magic. She watched him, slightly bemused at this sudden change, but leaving it be for now.

xxxx

They sat together in the quaint restaurant, happily eating delicious food and drinking fruity wine. She had decided on a classic black dress, it set off her red hair perfectly, and the way he was looking at her, Harry certainly appreciated it. Harry held her hand as he ate, and they talked animatedly about places to go and things to see. They had almost finished desert when Harry pulled a silver envelope from his jacket pocket, sliding it across the table to Ginny.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Open it," he replied, wrinkling his nose.

She opened the envelope one handed, unwilling to release the hand he was holding, and gasped. Two tickets to Romania sat in front of her.

"Harry?" she asked, looking up from the tickets.

"I thought you might want to see Charlie on our first stop. We can decide from there where to go next."

"How did you do this?"

"Kingsley. I'd already spoken to him about taking leave. I was going to ask you tonight how you felt about travelling for a while."

"Harry Potter! You sneaky git, I was really worried about talking to you about it."

"Ah, you love me really," he chuckled, squeezing her hand.

"Hmm. Come on, lets go home. I'll give you a better desert than any you'll find here," she told him in a lowered voice, smirking when his eyes widened in desire. She had never seen someone pay a bill so fast.

xxxx

Hours later, Ginny sat bolt upright in bed. "We need to pack," she gasped out. Harry stirred tiredly in the bed, only pulling her back down beside him.

"Kreacher's done it. House elves are amazing, aren't they?" he muttered, already falling back to sleep. She snuggled into his side, closing her own eyes and sighing happily.


We've been travelling for three months, and neither of us are ready to come home. The best thing about our holiday? We have no expectations. We're just enjoying the ride.