A/N Hi, wrote this while taking a small break from 'A Darker Shade of Light' and 'A Different Wheel'. It is light and short, will only be four maybe five chapters. Hope you enjoy.

I stood atop the peak of a hill overlooking the small magical town called Hogsmeade. The ever present Hogwarts loomed over the miniature buildings. I sat down on a cold rock. The town and school felt like some promised land. Forever before me, never to enter. Its not that I've never been inside, just never with anyone there. I nearly ventured in a few times this year. To walk among the students, to get a feel of what it would be like with company. Each time I refrained.

What would I want to do within the world of witches and wizards? I was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, the saviour of their precious world. I was and will surely forever be known to them by name only, and of course by the ever popular books about me. The last one still lay unopened on my desk at home, 'Harry Potter and the Forests of Mist'. Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, thinking himself very funny had sent each one of the seven to me. They were humorous, I suppose, but it was hardly fun to read about a fictional version of myself, especially one so arrogant.

Standing, I slowly took in all around me. A thousand years could have passed since I freed the people of Tom Riddle. How could little more than a year have passed?

The weather was turning and dark clouds were approaching. With one last look at Hogsmeade, I turned to leave. Perhaps I should Apparate more, but I like the feel of the wind through my hair. I could have flown a broom more often, but then I might meet a wizard. I might have walked, but that would remove the fun. Instead I clasped the helmet under my chin and clipped my shoes into the pedals of the mountain bike standing by the rock where I'd sat.

With it came pleasure. Time away from the world around. No Muggles, no Wizards, no Witches. By myself, I could harm no person, and no person could hurt me.

Even as the rocky path rolled by beneath me, I thought about what it had cost me. My father. My feet pushed harder on the pedals. My mother. I could feel my muscles begin to burn from the exertion. Remus. I clenched my teeth against the pain. Sirius. Trees and bushes were nothing more than a blur as they rushed by.

I duelled with death. I had nothing left to live for. Being reckless brought them closer. Flying down a steep slope, I could imagine them here with me. A part of my mind wanted my mother to jump out from behind a tree to scold me for being reckless. She had yet to appear.

A small part of me knew I was losing my mind. I guess a war in which I, still a boy, had to kill a man would lead to this.

I cursed, hitting the brakes hard. The loose sandy ground lacked grip. The wheels on my bike locked and then skidded relentlessly towards the wide eyed woman standing before me. Even as I moved relentlessly towards her, I noticed her long red hair. "Mother?" I whispered.

She disappeared and I let go of my brakes and kept riding. I did slow afterwards, though. My mind a confused mass of emotions. Could it have been her? No. Then was it a figment of my imagination? Probably not. Then who had the wide eyed woman been?

For a second I considered turning round to go check on her. I did not. It was best she did not talk to me. Already, just being near me had nearly led to her death.

I continued to ride for another hour until I reached my home. It was nothing impressive. I could have afforded more, but I preferred to spend my wealth on more exciting things. A house was just a dreary place to sleep in and store things. My sanity would slip quickly if I remained indoors for too long.

"Morning, Emily," I greeted my neighbour as I stopped by the front porch.

"How you doing today, Henry?" she asked with a smile.

As always she tried her best to make me smile. I can't remember if she'd ever succeeded. "Better than yesterday," I answered truthfully.

Each day was one more that removed me from my past. One more that pushed me towards what would be. What would be? I often asked myself that question. Before ending the war, my life had a purpose. A relentless push towards what needed to be done. Now? There was nothing.

To the magical folk I was some cross between a god and fictional character. To the Muggles I was nothing more than a twenty year old orphan with no qualifications. I tried, but school held no meaning. Like everything else, what was something without meaning?

"Try to think of something better today," Emily said from her front lawn.

I sighed. "I'll give it my best." I looked up into her concerned motherly eyes. "Thanks."

She gave a warm smile. "You know you can come and talk at any time."

I nodded, but made no reply. She had raised two sons and a daughter. Perhaps one day I will go talk to her.

She spoke again just before I could open the door. "There's this nice new girl working at the primary school," she said while sweeping her lawn.

I wanted to laugh. I tried to. It got caught somewhere between my stomach and throat. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Please do."

I went into the house and fumbled my way to the cupboard. I felt restless, despite the ride. I walked about until I tripped over something. I glanced down at the culprit and saw a pair of running shoes. The last gift from Sirius before I failed him. Removing my bulky riding shoes, I slipped on Sirius's gift. They were well worn in and comfortable. He had been the one to force me to train.

I ran. The steady pace of my feet pounding against the asphalt cleared my mind again.

Rain began to pore. Still I ran further from my home. I had no route in mind, the quiet Sunday streets allowed me the freedom to just do as I pleased.

I knew the town. I'd lived here for over a year. It was small, barely a thousand people, and everyone knew each other. Of course, I knew the least, but that did not stop them from knowing me. Henry, the orphaned man who lived by himself. How could I not be the gossip of the town? Well, my overly expensive car helped spread rumours somewhat.

Despite their stairs and whispers, I liked the people. They were friendly and had good hearts. Even as I ran I saw the banners and posters for the town festival taking place later in the month. The few short summers months really brought the people from there homes.

I had moved in just a few weeks before the festival last year. The activities were distracting, the people enchanting, but I still managed to distance myself. Perhaps this year I would be able be more myself.

My legs began to grow weary. I knew I would need to stop soon.

Who was I? A sad grumpy old man, or a young energetic man?

The question was not readily available. Dripping wet, I stopped at Mike's coffee shop.

As I slipped into the warmth of the building, I was met with a few stares. They immediately softened when they saw me. Some held pity.

"Morning," I greeted the people. Most returned the greeting before turning back to their drinks.

"Hi, Mike," I said to the white haired man behind the counter.

"Morning, son," he replied in his grandfatherly voice. He had a right to it seeing as he had an untold amount of them running around. "What can I get you?"

I inhaled deeply, smelling the freshly baked scones. "Just some tea and a few of those scones," I replied.

"Coming right up," he replied.

I found an open table by one of the windows. The steady rain of earlier had turned into a real shower. Large drops fell and bounced on the road outside. Small streams flowed towards the various gutters. It was all very mesmirising.

"It's him," I heard a voice say faintly from the other side of the room. I ignored the odd phrase that had caught my attention.

"Leave the poor guy," an older more familiar voice replied to the first. Martha, the headmistress of the primary school.

A chair scraped backwards and I soon noticed a shadow hanging over my table. Turning away from the growing storm outside, I inhaled softly at the sight before me. A very familiar woman with red hair stood before me.

Deep brown eyes, which would at another time be called beautiful, shone with unusual fire.

"Hi," I greeted, not looking away from her.

"Don't hi me!" She said angrily and I was immediately thrown off guard.

I frowned, which turned out to be another mistake. "Don't look at me like that!" Her arms crossed dangerously across her chest. "You know that you nearly killed me a couple of hours ago on that… that…" she stammered, "thing of yours!"

I wanted to apologise. I had honestly been so distracted then. This girl was just pushing things a bit too far. "Well, if you hadn't been standing there like some startled doe, then I would not have nearly ridden over you!" I replied heatedly.

I noticed the sudden quiet around me. With clenched teeth I closed my eyes.

"That is a path meant for walking!" she shouted as she pointed at the hill. "Not for you to speed down!"

"It is a public route that is open for both pedestrians and cyclists," I defended. She was definitely not going to get an apology from me now. "I suggest that next time you keep your eyes and ears on the world around you."

I felt rather than saw the slap across my cheek. I had really not expected that from such a small woman. I grinned, as I wiped a finger across my reddening cheek. She really had fire.

"And I suggest you keep an eye on my fist, because next time I won't be as kind!" She huffed. With an exaggerated spin she turned and stormed out of the shop and into the rain.

People began to murmur. I could not find myself to be bothered. Instead I kept watching the girl as she walked hurriedly down the street.

"Feisty one that," Mark said with a chuckle.

I shook my head as she eventually rounded a corner. "Yeah," I replied still thinking about her wavy red hair and striking eyes.

"Thank you," I said as I moved aside for him to place the tea and scones on my table.

At least one question was answered, I thought as I poured a cup of tea. The apparition had not been my mother, but rather this bundle of fire that now hated me. For some reason I liked the idea that she at least had some feelings for me and that at this very moment she was probably thinking about me.

A woman, perhaps a year my junior, was thinking about me and not Harry Potter. It was absurd, but I liked the idea of someone actually hating or liking me for reasons other than what I was used to.

I added some sugar to the cup and stirred slowly. I leaned on my cheek with my other hand and immediately winced in pain. The girl had quite the powerful backhand.

I stared back out again and smiled.

HGHGHG

I fell onto my bed, face first. The pillow threatened to suffocate me as I shouted into it in frustration. How could the man have been so flippant about nearly running me over? I was the one who had to walk for more than a mile in mud covered clothes. I was the one who had to heal scrapes and bruises on arms and legs and he tells me that I need to look where I'm walking!

I was fuming inside and my hand throbbed painfully from where it had collided with his cheek. Some of my anger dispersed and I hoped that I did not hurt him too badly.

He was rather handsome, I had to admit. His damp clothes, did a poor job of hiding his well toned body. I blushed at thought of the latest Harry Potter novel that lay by my bedside. I had them all, and my obsession probably had something to do with the total lack of a love life. As if any man could ever compare to Harry.

I rolled over and took the book. Flipping a few pages, I began to read.

Mary's eyes went wide as she stared, almost hungrily, at the wizard who emerged from the fog. He was tall and well toned. A tight shirt emphasised his powerful arms and chests. She could feel her heart beating faster as she stared into his mesmerising green eyes.

I giggled like a stupid fan girl. Shutting my mouth, I read further.

"I've missed you," Harry spoke, and her heart skipped a beat as he enveloped her in his arms.

A huff escaped my lips. Mary had been holding his heart since the fifth book in the series.

"Did you?" she questioned.

"Did he?" I asked angrily to the book. "The man just walked in to the bloody forest to take a killing curse for you! Dumb woman, of course he missed you!"

Mary's stupidity was really getting to me.

"Of course, my love," he whispered into her neck as he inhaled the fresh scent of flowers that hung around her. Despite the battle she still managed to be perfect.

Mary threw her arms around his firm body and pulled him close.

"Say that again," she paused and then breathed out, "Harry."

Jumping from the bed, I threw the book down in anger. "Oh please!" I yelled at the cover. "Like Harry would ever love a thing like you."

My tirade was cut short by a knock on the door. I took a deep calming breath before leaving the room.

Martha stood outside. Her expression did not look pleased. "I had thought you better than that, Ginny," she said angrily. "Had I not known your mother, then…"

"Then?" I asked.

"I would have seriously reconsidered whether you were the right kind of person to look after kids."

I nodded my head in shame. She was right, of course. "It's just that… I'm sorry."

She looked pleased by my words. "You better be. Henry, the guy you slapped quite spectacularly I might add, is one of the kindest and gentlest men in town."

"Not a very attentive cyclist," I snorted.

Martha just frowned while giving Ginny a sad look. "Listen, Ginny. Henry is an orphan; he has no family or friends. He rides up into the hills to escape his past."

"Really? Has he said as much," I immediately regretted my words.

The woman sighed. "Looks like you'll need to get a good grip on that tongue, young lady."

I agreed, feeling my cheeks blush.

"And no, he has not said it. But neither will he." I looked up at her confused. "He's better now," Martha continued. "He gives half a smile about once a week."

For the first time I actually felt sorry for him. "That still does not excuse him from nearly flattening me."

"No, I suppose it doesn't," she agreed. "But try to give him a break."

"I'll try, but he better apologise."

Martha shook her head, and she got a distant look in her eye. When her gaze refocused it held a slight glimmer. "Perhaps you are just what he needs."

"Good bye," I replied angrily as I slammed the door closed.

"Crazy witch trying to play matchmaker," I grumbled. The last time, I think it was fourth year, that a boy dared try to touch me I hexed him all the way back to pre-Hogwarts. Since then, they avoided me like the plague.

I laughed, "At least I've still got my Potter novels."

HGHGHG

The school bell rang and a flood of kids came running out. This was the first time that I had come to sit on the park bench. The small little people running about with backpacks too big for them was thankfully not my reason for being here. I had come to see a certain young woman.

Only after most of the mothers were gone, did I stand to walk into the school. It took only a few minutes to find a classroom door labelled, Miss Ginny Weasley. I smiled before knocking softly on the classroom door.

"Come in," a pleasant voice called. The melodic sound almost made me smile again. What was this woman doing to me?

Gathering my senses and my wits, I pushed down on the handle and opened the door.

I entered slowly, almost fearful of what I might find inside. She did not look up; I could see her finish writing a comment on a report.

The afternoon light bathed her in its warm glow. The red in her hair, highlighted, allowed me to see the many shades.

She eventually looked up with a smile. It slid away quickly when she noticed it was me.

"Ah, you," she sighed, letting the pen drop onto the desk.

"I'm sorry for intruding on your time, Miss Weasley," I began. She leaned back in her chair to study me. "Look," I said bluntly. "I am sorry for nearly running you over yesterday. I was having a bad day and…" I paused, how much could I tell Ginny? "Well, I just wanted to apologise for not stopping to ensure that you were alright."

She continued to study me. Then the fire in her eyes returned. "That still does not excuse you from being a complete prat!" She said angrily. "What kind of man nearly kills a woman, then keeps on riding?"

I sat down on one of the extremely small kiddies desks. Unlike a normal table, which would harldy affect my height, this one dropped me by a foot or two. Unfortunately, this allowed Ginny to stare down at me.

"At this moment I cannot explain my reasons," I tried to elaborate. Then a sudden bold surge overtook me. "Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

"Yes," she replied quickly. Then a look of horror crossed her face. "I mean, no."

I chuckled, it was a wondrous feeling to actually laugh a bit. "You said yes. Seven?"

"Ok," she answered again, before rolling her eyes. "No, definitly not seven not ever."

I stood awkwardly from the low desk. "Seven it is then. Wear something nice."

"I won't be ready and you don't even know where I live," she protested as I walked to the door.

I turned, gave her what I imagined to be a charming smile and said, "Seven."

With that I walked out the door. My step was lighter than it had been in… I laughed. I'd never felt this good before.

HGHGHG

It was a quarter to seven and I still lay in my bed reading the newest Potter novel. It was my second time through the book. I needed to make sure that I understood all the sub-plots. Only a quarter of the way through it again I had already picked up on a number of small details I had missed the first time.

Harry walked proudly down the corridors of Hogwarts. His long elegant school robes floated in the air behind as he walked. Like a man walking amongst clouds, Harry floated along the ground. All around girls swooned at mearest glance of his perfect greens eyes.

"I'd never swoon over any fool of a man," I grumbled to myself.

Mary, the love of his life, walked beside him. The other boys looked upon her with envy. She was tall, and curvaceous. Her blue eyes humbled men and her infamous bat-bogey hex kept them from trying anything funny.

I grumbled at the line. "That is my spell!" I shouted at the book and author. How dare they steal my spell?

I thrust the book away in anger. How could I still be readying such nonsense? I was a grown woman capable of talking to men. Well those who were not cute, with handsome dark hair.

I sat up abruptly. Henry would be here any minute. Leaping off the bed, I rummaged through my trunk to find a good pair of black jeans and my favourite green jersey, which my mother knitted for me. It was soft and fit the curves of my body perfectly. With it on I felt slightly self conscious. I rarely wore it outside of The Burrow, but it was the best I had.

Turning to my bedside table, I noticed the time, five to seven. In a rush I ran to the bathroom. Fumbling, I grabbed my wand, and an instant later my hair was straightened. A few more strokes ensured a fine layer of make-up was applied. Not too much, otherwise he'd think me a bit over eager.

For the first time I allowed myself a peek in the mirror. I looked as horrible as ever. I was saved my usual misery of self-torment by the knock on my front door.

I ran back into the room and slipped into a comfortable pair of shoes.

Standing before the door, I steadied myself. When I felt ready, I allowed myself to open it.

My breath got caught in my chest. Henry stood, looking dashing, in a pair of khakis and white collored shirt.

"Evening, Miss Weasley," he said slowly, while his eyes remained fixed on mine, though I had noticed the quick flick they did over my body. "You look beautiful."

"Henry," I said curlty, mentally kicking myself for being rude to the man again. He was adorable in the way he tried so hard to get me to forgive him. "You look… good," I managed to force the words out.

Despite the effort to say it, the effect was rewarding. His face blossomed into the most gorgeous smile I'd ever seen. I decided then and there that I would give this my best. "More than good," I said with a faint blush as I allowed my eyes to roam over his body. I smirked; it was just returning the favour. "And please, call me Ginny."

"Of course, Ginny," he replied as he held out an arm.

I froze. I had forgotten half my things. "Wait, just need to get my purse." I ran back in scolding myself for not remembering it. Then again, this was my first real date. The Yule Ball with Neville didn't really count. When I managed to get outside again, I was flushed, and still I carried the sickly feeling that I had forgotten something in my room.

He stood patiently. "Ready?" He asked with another faint smile.

"I think I've got everything, except my book," I laughed.

He gave me a curious look, but asked no more.

Outside my flat stood a deep maroon car. It was a very nice colour. Perhaps one day I could get a car this colour. I laughed internally, for that I would need to get the license thingy Muggles needed.

He opened the door for me. "Thank you," I whispered as I slid past him. The interior was amazing. The light tan leather seat was firm and well made. The image of a prancing horse stood out proudly on the head rests and a smaller one was on the steering wheel. As I waited for him to walk round, I noticed how low to the ground I was sitting.

The far door opened and Henry slid into the driver's seat. "Any clues as to where we are going?" I asked, beginning to feel really excited.

"Well it's a small place. Never been there before, but a friend highly recommended it," he replied with a smile.

I grinned back at him, feeling like a school girl again. "So why have you never been there if it is so great?"

The car roared to life. My eyes flew open at the sound. "That definitly does not sound normal," I asked with worry.

He laughed, it was rich and wholesome. "Oh, it sounds about perfect to me."

I did not reply, but no car I've ever been in before sounded this… powerful. Almost like a few hundred horses straining to be let loose.

The car began to move and I immediately realised that the car was different. It accelerated quickly and stopped rapidly. Each corner was made smoothly, but the force of it pushed me sideways. "This is fun," I said with barely concealed excitement.

"Apart from riding that bicycle of mine. This is the closest you can get to flying while on the ground," he replied.

The small town disappeared as we drove into the abandoned countryside. Trees raced past them and the car roared around us. It was exilirating. Not quite as much as a diving on a broom, but close.

"You ok, or do you want me to slow down?" Harry asked in what sounded like concern.

I gave him a typical Weasley grin of mischief. "I only wish this horse had more." I felt stupid for saying what I did. I mean Martha's car could barely get to this speed.

"You honestly want more?" He questioned.

I nodded feeling even more foolish for asking.

"Buckle up then, Ginny," he said with a growing grin. I reached back to grab the seat belt and I noticed him doing the same.

Then the car lurched, pushing me back against the seat. The car barreled through the countryside. Every bump in the rode travelled through my back. Each corner threw me to the side and each acceleration pushed me further back.

Eventually he slowed down and I released my tight muscles. "That really was fun," I whispered. "Can I drive back?" I asked.

"Can you drive?" He asked. "No offence, but you obviously don't know much about cars."

I blushed. "No, but I think I'd like to learn more. I grew up in a small village. Well, a house outside a small village."

"I see," he answered. "Well, I promise to let you have spin in this one day, but I would first need to see you drive."

"Why?" I asked feeling slightly insulted.

He grinned. "This is nothing against you. I just think my bank manager would not be too pleased if I damaged this car."

Of course, I forgot, cars were expensive and most people barely managed to afford one. "Oh, no problem. I need to learn to drive in any case."

While we talked he parked the car and switched off the engine. The absence of noise was a welcome relief.

He climbed out, and despite my efforts to open the door, I found myself beaten. There were just too many buttons and things to press. So instead I waited for my date to do it for me. My date, the word still buzzed in my head slightly.

I got out and noticed we were at a rather small place. Only a few other cars were parked outside. A lot of them held similar sleek lines to the car Henry drove. Soft rhythmic music wafted into the night air.

Even before we entered, I noticed that we were on the side of hill, the valley below strecthed for miles. I breathed in the cool air as my arm slipped comfortably into his.

"I hope you enjoy this," he whispered into my ear as a waiter checked our reservation. The man's eyes widened at whatever he read and immediately showed us to our table with almost unlimited enthusiasm.

Henry acted uncomortably around the attention. He only relaxed after the waiter had left.

"Dislike attention?" I asked leaning forward to take the wine glass the waiter had poured.

He glanced out the window quickly. "Not so much the attention, but people fawning over me."

Curious, I thought. Was he some kind of Muggle celebrity? Neither Martha nor anyone in town had told me anything. "I'll try not to fawn," I replied taking a sip of the dark red liquid.

There was music being played in the background and I noticed a dance floor in the middle of the room. My eyebrow rose. "Is that why you've never been here?" I asked.

"Never had anyone to bring with me," he said in what appeared to be shame. "I'm sure a natural beauty as yourself would have more experience with such things."

I snorted in a very unladylike way. "Me, experienced with boys?" I shook my head. "The last date I was on couldn't even be called a date and that was what four or five years ago."

He cocked his head to the side. "Oh, I would have thought boys would be all over you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Boys learned to fear me."

Instead of backing away he leaned closer. "I like that," he said looking at me with his amazing emerald green eyes. I must have looked confused, because he whispered. "That fiery spirit in you..." He clearly wanted to say more, but instead he leaned back again.

The red glass of wine moved in his hand as he inhaled. For a moment he appeared far away, and for a brief moment I got the feeling I knew him from somewhere. The feeling of dejà vu passed quickly as he took a small sip of wine.

"So, how do you like teaching little kids to…" he tilted his head to the side. "What do you teach them?"

I chuckled and took a sip of wine to organise the mass of words flooding my mind. "At the moment I'm busy with preschool. I teach them how to draw, read them stories and mainly just ensure they don't kill themselves…"

He studied me so intently, I knew my voice was still droning on, but the words meant little. I could see him listening, drinking in every word. His eyes sparkled, he chuckled and laughed with each tale I told of the kids in my class.

"You really do love children, don't you?" It was not a question, merely a simple fact.

"And you, what do you get up to each day?" I asked feeling comfortable for the first time in, well forever.

He gave a nervous sigh. "What do I do with my time?" He said to the window beside them. In that moment, he looked small and fragile. I knew if I tugged even a little, he would break.

"Hmmm, I'm starving. What are you going to have?" I asked. Eagerly, he took the menu from the table. His green eyes hinted a thank you as he glanced at me before reading.

I guess it was the look that made me believe there was no harm within the guy. There was gratitude, not relief in his gaze. I got the feeling he wanted to talk, but the memories were too painful.

"I hope the portions are big," I said with wide eyes as I glanced at the prices.

He grinned. "Doubt it." Looking up, he probably read my unease. "Forget about the price. I called in a favour to be here tonight." The green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Do I really want to know?" I asked, intrigued.

His grin grew devilish. "If I tell you, then I will have to kill you."

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "You could tell and then try to kill me."

He frowned in concentration. "I guess the last part might be a problem."

"You better believe it," I said proudly and nearly added, Voldemort didn't even succeed in getting rid of this girl.

He glanced down at the menu again. I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table. "So?"

I revelled in the humorous chuckle he gave as he shook his mop of black hair. He did, however, close the menu and set it aside. Those amazing eyes looked at me again. "I really can't tell, Ginny. Ready?"

I nodded with a glance at the closed menu.

He looked away, raised a hand casually, and like a man Apparating, the waiter materialised by the table. With a few well spoken words, the orders were placed. He did it so gentlemanly, and I could not help but feel like some lady of a manor.

When the waiter left, he began to look slightly uneasy. "What?" I wanted him to speak.

"Well…" He paused looking extremely uncomfortable. "I'm not terribly good at this, but would you like to dance?"

My head spun round to the dance floor. A few other couples were dancing to a slow tune. "Sure!" I replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

He stood, rounded the table and helped me to my feet. As we walked, I began to feel awkward. "I'm not really dressed for this." I am ashamed to say that I tried to get out of it, despite my eagerness.

"Well, I don't think I'm either," he replied.

His hand felt so warm and comforting, holding mine. The entire place became a surreal blur as he led me onto the large wooden floor. With practised poise, he began to lead me.

There were no fancy steps. Instead, he moved effortlessly around the floor, each stride in perfect timing with the music. For a brief, guilty moment I thought back to Neville and the awkwardness of the Yule Ball. This was nothing like that. In a word, it was heaven.

I could feel the firm muscles that were hinted at earlier. He was not smiling, but I could still see the pure joy in his gaze. I did nothing, he did it all. The music playing in the background only provided ambience to me. He listened, he interpreted, and he flowed with it.

After a few songs, he began to grow a little bolder, or perhaps it was a different dance. It felt different. He twirled me around and I felt a loss at being away from his arms. He spun me back close, holding me in those strong arms. I felt the floor come closer as he dipped me low. If I looked I was sure my hair touched the floor. I felt awed by his control as he slowly brought me back up to continue the dance.

HGHGHG

The music began to fade and I realised that our food was in all probability almost finished. I stopped and revelled in the touch of a now flustered and red cheeked Ginny.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but our dinner will probably be finished in a few minutes."

She did look a bit disappointed, but she brightened quickly enough. "I could really use a drink in any case."

We walked towards are table and I noticed her hand was still resting comfortably in mine. It felt good.

Calling a waiter, I asked for a bottle of water. The man nodded and disappeared.

"I think I need a little something for my throat as well," I said.

Sitting across from her felt wrong; I wanted to be closer. "Where did you learn to…" she fumbled out of breath. "…to dance?"

I fought the urge to be depressed. Sirius had taught me the basics and I practised with his cousin, Tonks, a few times. They were both dead now, and they never saw me put into practise what they spent hours teaching.

I must have given a sad frown. "Ex?" She asked.

"No," I sighed. "I guess that would have been less painful." At least her question brightened my mood again. "My godfather and his cousin taught me. They both passed away a few years ago."

Her eyes grew slightly misty, but she reached out a tender hand to mine. Her touch helped.

"Let's not dwell on the past tonight," I said forcing myself to be more cheerful. It was not difficult with the gorgeous woman sitting in front of me. Her soft heart was what drew me in, however. "I have the most beautiful woman for miles around as company. I will not let my problems ruin this evening."

She blushed spectacularly at the complement. With a shy look on her face, she lifted her glass. "To a lovely evening."

I chuckled, lifted my glass and clinked hers. As if planning the moment for the whole evening, the waiter appeared with two steaming dishes.

"Large," she said flatly, while glaring at the plate. I watched her lift the one piece of lettuce. "Darn, I thought they might have hid the rest of the steak there." She looked up with the most adorable look I've ever seen on a woman.

I could not help myself. I burst out laughing. It felt wonderful. I could not remember ever having laughed so hard before, well not since Sirius' death.

"What?" She asked when I finally managed to calm myself. A few other patrons stared openly at me in horror.

"Nothing, that was just very cute and very funny."

She beamed back at me. "Well there isn't much on the plate now is there."

I cut away a small piece of my chicken and held my fork out to her. "Take a bite. Here it is all about the taste and not the amount."

She shrugged. I had already gathered earlier that she had never been to such a posh restaurant before. Taking the fork, she took a bite and chewed slowly. Her face looked shocked. "That was just delicious."

With slightly more eagerness she attacked her own plate. She did not offer me a bite. I ate a bit more slowly, and it amazed me how she managed to clear her plate in minutes.

She looked abashed when she noticed I was only halfway. "Older brothers," she said.

"Ah," I replied taking another bite. After swallowing I said. "I guess that explains the part of why boys feared you."

She shook her head. "Not really, none of them ever came close enough to me for them to be interested in."

"Do you advise staying away then?" I asked.

"Most definitely. Especially from Ron. He's the most protective of the lot."

I finished the last bite and watched in amusement as my plate vanished. "So what would be the normal procedure, hypothetically speaking?"

She considered the question. "At first there will probably be a good talking to. Then, if you persist, they'll begin to prank you. If that fails, then a quiet disposal will probably be the only option left to protect my innocence."

I laughed. I could see her innocence in the way she talked and laughed. In the way she sipped at the wine while glancing at me. This whole night, not just the setting, was all new to her. Just as it was new to me.

Yet, there was something in her gaze. A maturity was hinted at that was not normal for such a young woman. I wondered what caused it. I wanted to ask, but something so deep within a gaze was not a topic for a first... My mind hit a wall. Was this our first date?

A pair of fingers snapping before my face brought me back. "Henry," she kept repeating.

"Sorry," I replied with a shake. "I guess I should tread lightly around them then." She relaxed enough to sip at her wine again. "Though, my godfather was the master of all pranksters. So perhaps it is them who should be warned."

She perked up at the last comment. Her grin grew incredibly evil. "This might just be the fun I've been looking for."

The night passed quickly from there. The drive back went slowly. I did not want to leave this wonderful woman.

HGHGHG

"Good night, Henry," I said making to get out of the car. I did not want go, I wanted to stay near him.

"Night, Ginny," he replied, and the nervous fidgeting of his hands and the reluctance in his words told me he did not want to leave either.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" I asked, biting down on my lip.

"That would be great, thank you," he answered a bit too quickly. I hid my pleased smile. I watched his hands and saw which lever he pulled to open the door. I did the same and mine opened smoothly. I climbed out just before he could help me out. I loved his helping hand, but I was an independent woman.

He laughed when he saw me standing. "There I thought I was going to have to run after you forever."

I narrowed my eyes. "Every girl likes to be treated like a lady, but I can manage myself most of times." I flung the door closed and strode purposefully towards my flat. I could feel his presence near me and I fumbled for my keys.

The door eventually opened and I walked in. "Darn!" I grumbled. "Sorry, for the mess, Henry. I wasn't really expecting to go with you. Let alone invite you in for tea."

He waved my comment aside. "It's just a bit of clutter and…" He stopped and walked towards my bed were the abused copy of Harry Potter lay. "I saw this in the bookstore the other day." I let out a relieved breath. I had forgotten that they were now a Muggle sensation. "Any good?" He asked.

"Perhaps the childhood ones," I said making to grab the book. "The last few sound more like some romance novel."

He grinned and held it up in the air. "I read the first one," he chuckled. "Quite entertaining."

I knew the battle was lost when he sat down on my unmade bed with the book still in hand. Luckily, I used the temporary distraction to carefully hide my underwear and other embarrassing clothing items. Especially the Harry Potter night shirt I wore. Why did I have to be such a stupid fan girl?

"Honestly!" He laughed and then quoted. '"His powerful arms lifted Mary from the floor with unnatural ease. He stared wonderingly into her enchanting eyes of blue. Those rosy lips demanded to be kissed and so he did. She threw her legs around…"

He dropped the book onto the bed and looked up at me. "I told you the last book is a bit…" I rolled my eyes. "Stupid."

"You still got the shirt," he said a bit bluntly.

"That was a gift from Ron," I lied smoothly.

He dropped his head slightly as he rubbed his forehead. "Oh."

"Well I best get the kettle boiling," I said lightly, hoping to get the topic away from the books.

"Who do you think the real Harry is?" He asked suddenly. I had not noticed him coming to stand next to me.

I jumped slightly, both from his presence and the question. "The real Harry? It's just a book."

He gave a non-descript shrug. "Sorry, I thought I remember reading somewhere that the author mentioned the story being based on some guy. She just added the magic and a few of the more, lets say, romantic themes."

I felt the tension leave my body. "Oh, I can't remember reading that. Must have been in the first book," I lied. Of course I knew the story to be based on a very much alive and aloof man.

Still, I wanted to answer him. "I guess he is nothing like the books. The Harry in them is way too arrogant. If the real Harry were anything like him, then we would have known who he is. Such an ego would not be able to keep itself out of the headlines. I would imagine him a much more selfless and giving man. To give yourself so wholly to the cause of saving the people around you… That takes a special kind of man in here," I said touching my chest. "And not the all powerful fool from the books who solves problems with muscle. I think the real Harry to be loving, with love for all things at the centre of his being."

He nodded thoughtfully. "That is actually a rather good answer."

After that he relaxed again. It really was strange for him to take such an interest in what I thought of a character from a book.

The kettle boiled and I made us both a cup of tea. He drank his with only milk. Mine had a single spoon of sugar.

We spoke of nothing in particular for another hour. I think he hungered for conversation as much as I did.

"I really must get to bed," I said after giving a loud yawn.

He checked his watch, but I could see the red in his eyes. "It is rather late. We wouldn't want you scaring the children tomorrow, now, would we?" There was a faint twinkle in his tired eyes.

"I think they're scared enough as it is," I agreed.

He leaned forward. My heart beat rapidly and loudly in my chest. Then his lips met mine. It was soft and gentle. Then it was gone.

"I really enjoyed tonight," Henry whispered, his eyes mere inches from mine.

I nodded, too dumbstruck by my first kiss to say a word.

He stood and walked to the door. I followed in a trance. Before he could open the door I pulled him down for another, slightly deeper kiss. "Good night, Henry," I said opening the door.

He placed a tender hand on my cheek and then walked out. I tried to close the door as the red taillights of his car vanished around a corner.

I wanted to sleep, but was denied by the sudden appearance of my next door neighbour. A young irritating woman working with me at school.

"Did that guy just drop you off in a Ferrari!" Samantha squealed. "My god, Ginny! How did you bag such a rich guy?"

"Rich?" I asked. Henry had never come off as being rich. He seemed so relaxed and humble. "I'm not sure about that. He's just a very nice guy."

Samantha strode through my door muttering, "Just a nice guy," in mock imitation of my voice. She held up a closed fist and lifted a finger. "One, he is definitely rich." She raised another. "Two, he is extremely handsome. Three, he is not even old. I mean rich and young. Four, he is single?" It came out as a question.

I nodded. "Martha told me he is single and has been living alone in town for a year."

"Really?" She arched an eyebrow. "Ok. Four, he is single. Five, he is very rich… Oh did I mention that. Never mind, that counts double."

I fell back onto my bed. "He dances like a summer's breeze," I sighed happily.

"Six…" Samantha began. "Oh dear me, you really have fallen hard, haven't you?"

I nodded dumbly.

Samantha shook her head tried to speak, but gave up on me as a lost cause and left.

I rolled onto my side and tried to fall asleep.

A/N

Thanks for reading. I hope this was an enjoyable first chapter. Hopefully the next few chapters will be up with the next week or so.

As always, let me know what you thought.