It's not that Harry was unlucky with girls, it was that he had not really met the right one. In fifth year he briefly dated Cho Chang, but that didn't last partly because she cried half the time she was with him. There was also Ginny Weasley; she was great and they flourished for two and a half years until they had just mutually broken up, which in hindsight was the best way so Ron didn't execute Harry. The last time he had encountered a girl was when he got really drunk at Dean Thomas' graduation party and made out with Lavender Brown in the prefects bathroom. Harry always swore it was the fire whiskey.

After Hogwart he also didn't have much of an experience. He had become an auror and the jobs was very demanding, so he didn't have any particular time to meet a woman. He had thought about speed dating, but then he came to the conclusion that a) he wasn't that desperate and b) that if he were to fall in love it would be because he found her. Not that they were both looking to get laid and just happened to talk to each other for thirty seconds. Surely Harry had Ron trying to get him to date someone so that he didn't feel bad for him third wheeling all the time for himself and Hermione constantly being together. He constantly had to remind Ron that he didn't have time; it usually went along the line of auror… no time…busy… not interested… plenty of time.

Harry was about twenty three when his love life picked up. Harry had been staying in muggle London, mainly because he could go about and not be bombarded with questions. He would just simply apparate into Diagon Alley, make his way to his office at the Ministry, and return to his one bedroom apartment in London. It was a Wednesday afternoon when Harry had called in sick to work. He wasn't terribly sick, but he had a cold and did not feel like taking 5 potions when he woke up. He quickly walked to the corner drug store in trousers that weren't particularly clean and a black t shirt. It had been extraordinarily foggy that day even for London, but was expected in early March after a rain storm the previous night. He was walking and walking and just as he was turning the corner WHAP. Harry had fallen straight onto the concrete right on his arse. He quickly got up to find a girl across from him. "asshole" he heard her mutter.

"terribly sorry," he said quickly.

"well if you were a gentleman I'd expect you to help me," her voice was raspy but still smooth.

"Right, sorry… again," suddenly feeling guilty. He noticed her frantically picking up books and DVDs, Harry had only heard about them from Arthur Weasley who was particularly fascinated with muggles. "What're you reading?" he asked, oh god why did he ask.

"Some old books: Of Mice and Men, The Great Gatsby, A Thousand Splendid Suns, and A Song of Ice and Fire… you've read these right?" she quickly added. It wasn't until then Harry really looked at her. She had a simple face that was splattered with freckles, she had soft green eyes that reminded with of a willow tree (not the whomping willow). Her hair was a golden brown that framed her face in soft waves and a long neck. She was plump in a way that filled out her body and looked to be about 1.6 meters. She was wearing a grey peacoat with black pants and a red scarf. Her looks had caught him off guard as he found himself staring at her.

"Excuse me? Are you listening?" She questioned.

Harry found himself fumbling with his words "I umm… I actually never… I'm sorry I didn't catch your name"

"My name is Alexandra Clary, but call me Alex if you will."

"Err… great. Where're you headed off to?"

"My apartment, and sorry I didn't catch your name either."

"Oh… I'm Harry, Harry Potter," it was relieving to not have her say 'blimey' or 'you're kidding.'

She raised her eyebrows and squinted her eyes, "Potter's and odd surname don't you think?"

"Maybe, but it's unique," he retorted.

"Well Potter I'm sure I'll see you around," she said as she was walking away.

"Wait -" Harry started before he could stop.

"What is it?"

"Would you fancy giving me your telephone number?"

"I'll take yours," this caught him off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"Give me your number and if I fancy calling you, I will." Harry quickly tore out a crumpled up receipt and a pen from his pocket and gave it to her.

"Thanks Potter, maybe I'll call," she half whispered as she walked down the street and ducked into her car.

Harry waited precisely four days, three hours, and twelve minutes in his apartment until he got the phone call.

"Hello?" Harry said cautiously.

"Careful Potter, I think you answered the phone too fast." his heart skipped a beat.

"Sorry 'bout that, got a little excited."

"You make it sound like it's Christmas."

"I wish it was."

"So I was wondering…" oh god he thought.

"What were you saying earlier? Have you never read any of the books I had?" she continued. Harry coughed nervously.

"Actually I haven't, care to explain them to me?"

"No way, read them for yourself," she almost sounded offended.

"Oh c'mon, enlighten me on a splendid summer," he joked.

"It's A Thousand Splendid Suns," she corrected.

"Alright then, so let me borrow your copy," he added.

"Well how do you reckon you'll get my copy?"

"If you go to get breakfast with me on Sunday," he said.

"What?" she asked sounding confused.

"Get breakfast with me on Sunday," he stated plainly.

"Potter you don't even know me"

"Yeah, but I'd like to." What was he doing?

"Fine then, when and where?"

"9 o'clock at the cafe on Forman Avenue."

"Potter I swear to god -"

"I'm not a creep a promise."

"Fine, I'll meet you there."

"Alright fine, goodnight Alex," he teased

"Goodnight Potter." and she with that she hung up

Harry spent thirty minutes staring at his ceiling going what did I just do. She's a muggle. It's nothing serious. It's tea and a muffin with a book exchange. Shit I don't have much muggle money. shit shit shit shit. He laid on his queen sized bed and bundled the navy sheets in his hands. What was he thinking? He looked at his new owl, she was white like Hedwig but instead he named her Alaska because she reminded him of ice, so it sort of worked. He twirled his wand in his hands and quietly casted his patronus. He looked at the silver stag, and he watched it prance around his bedroom. What's her patronus? She doesn't have a patronus, she's a muggle shut up Harry.

Harry then got in the shower and let the water wash over his back. He didn't even bother to take off his glasses, but he just stood there under the hot water. He then decided the shower was pointless and brushed his teeth and went to bed. Harry usually only slept in his boxers so he just put on a black pair and hurried under the covers. He fell asleep what didn't even seem like hours later. All he could think about was that in a week, he would have a date. Like an actual date. Except it was with a muggle. Harry didn't believe in the whole pureblood thing, but it would be exceptionally odd to date a muggle. It didn't bother him to find himself dreaming over her that very night.