CHANCES ARE

SUMMERSHINE

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chances are you'll find me

Somewhere on your road tonight

Seems I always end up driving by

Ever since I've known you

It just seems you're on my way

All the rules of logic don't apply

Ginny slowly drove down the winding, leaf-filled road. She didn't realize she'd driven past his house four times. She didn't realize that this was the fifth. She didn't muse and didn't ponder; just drove. Drove around the winding road in circles.

I long to see you in the night

Be with you 'til morning light

She remembered the night she'd found out. Karen had come in, beaming with happiness, and letting out little squeals of joy while her eyes scintillated with radiant tears. Karen was getting married. Getting married to Harry.

I remember clearly how you looked

The night we met

I recall your laughter and your smile

I remember how you made me

Feel so at ease

I remember all your grace, your style

Ginny remembered meeting him. She had observed him in the same manner you would observe a rather interesting bug- scrutinizing the different parts with great care. For her, it was his lush, inquisitive green eyes, covered with the chipped, beetle-black glasses, and the scruffy, mismatched clothes. All were parts of him. They made him.

She hadn't known then. Hadn't known that his solemn, shy, scared, grateful demeanour was that of her hero. And then the realisation stung.

And now you're all I long to see

You've come to mean so much to me

But he was married. Karen had been his flirt- the outstanding, amazing girl Ginny had never qualified for. The girl Ginny was, but the girl Ginny couldn't bring herself to be in front of him, because he would never see her like that.

She missed him. Her heart craved his smile, his gaze, and the thud of his heart. She needed him. And now he was gone.

Chances are I'll see you

Somewhere in my dreams tonight

You'll be smiling like the night we met

Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer

All I have

She gazed at the picture. It depicted his happiness; the glowing look he wore shone through in the picture. His arm was draped casually around a copper-haired girl, whose slightly reddened cheeks were the only sign of her embarrassment. She did, however, wear the iridescent look of someone who had just been proposed to.

The irony, she thought dully. The irony.

But as she prepared to go to sleep that night, slowly sliding under the creamy sheets, she realized another thing. Her life was the portrayal of Irony. Her life proved irony. For tonight she would dream about him. And if that were not irony, she would never know what was.

You're the only one I can't forget

Baby you're the best, I've ever met

And I'll be dreaming of the future

And hoping you'll be by my side

And in the morning I'll be longing

For the night, for the night

She went by life in a daze: a heart-aching, gut-wrenching daze. She was empty. She did not go to his wedding. She did not see her former friend marry the man she loved. Hell, she'd probably try to stop it. It would be all over the press: Potter's Wedding Stopped by Heartbroken Admirer.

Chances are I'll see you

Somewhere in my dreams tonight

You'll be smiling like the night we met

Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer

All I have

That night she dreamt of him. He gazed at her with his shy, sensitive smile, and asked her to go with him. "Where?" she asked. "To Hogsmeade," he had replied. And they had been off, basking in the other's intimate warmness. They sought love, and found it. They were both Seekers, after all.

You're the only one I can't forget

Baby you're the best I've ever met

She knew in the morning that she couldn't go on. Couldn't live her life without him. She couldn't forget him, couldn't let him go, for he was the only man she would truly love.

He was the best man she'd ever met.