Author's Note: It's been a while, I know, but I've had the chance to think things over in my mind, and have decided to make a Harry/Ginny story because, let's face it, they're perfect together! So this story occurs six years after the seventh book, and is my own take on how things really occurred (without the Epilogue at the end of The Deathly Hollows. So read, review, and enjoy! New chapters will be coming up at least two times a week, I promise.
Chapter One
Forbidden? Love
Harry clutched the fur-rimmed hood of his bomber jacket; the only gift he had ever received from the Dursley's the night he left 4 Privet Drive, and pushed his body weight against the strong winds that blew. The wind was unbearable to walk through, let alone the snow flakes that were slowly beginning to fall onto his glasses, making it almost impossible to see through them.
Aggravated, Harry tore off his glasses and wiped them clean before shoving them into his pocket, muttering a charm that allowed him to see temporarily without them. His calf-high woollen and suede boots trudged along the thick, marshy field he was walking through; his shortcut to the small British town that was newly named Bronxville. The only thing he could see were the dim lights that shone in the town about fifty metres ahead, and the flurries of white snow that proceeded to land on his nose. He hated winter. Normally, he would never go out in these conditions on a Friday night, and would much rather stay at home with his four-year-old Husky, Tonks – he decided to name her after his deceased friend, who had died no more than six years ago. Harry missed her and Lupin, who left the only trace of their existence behind within their son, Teddy, who was turning seven very soon. The past seemed so much longer than it was, and the future was the one thing that scared Harry the most.
After seventh year was completed at Hogwarts, Harry never lost all contact with the Weasley's and Granger's – it seemed that Ron had lost all interest in being friends with Harry for some reason, causing Hermione to lose contact as well (seeing as she was married to Ron now). If anything, the one person who Harry missed the most was Ginny Weasley, the girl whose heart he had broken many years ago and the one person who understood him the most.
Now, Harry had been forced to get out of the house rather than sink into a depth of misery by his new "best friend", Bryson Murlock. He had suggested a bar within the magical town of Bronxville called Matilda's Den, and promised to meet Harry there at seven o'clock. It was now seven thirty.
Finally, Harry's feet hit the cobblestone road of the town, where the bright oil lamps shone overhead and cast shadows among the people who were busily Christmas shopping three weeks beforehand. The town was made of antique and Victorian-looking homes and shops, which stood three to five stories tall and were brightly decorated in sparkling Christmas lights, enchanted windows to represent Christmas themes, and snow dusted footpaths. In the center of the town, Harry knew, stood a thirty-foot-tall evergreen Christmas tree, brightly decorated with glowing lights, enormous decorative glass balls, and topped with an enormous, real shooting star that a powerful wizard had captured for the tree specifically. The scene itself made Harry feel somewhat cheerier to be out of the house.
No more than ten feet away stood Matilda's Den. It was a decently-sized, three story building with rafters that stood ajar, despite the cold weather, and had a cluster of magicians standing outside of it, smoking pipes with warm Butterbeers in their hands. Harry made his way for the bar, ignoring the whispers and murmurs of his famous name as he slid inside, causing a blast of warm, inviting air to hit his face at his entrance.
The bar itself was extremely inviting, for family and friends. A long, twenty-foot-long bar top stood along the right side of the bar with approximately twenty stools lined along the side, a majority being occupied by witches and wizards. Behind the bar stood shelves of various Muggle alcoholic drinks and wizard drinks, including Firewhisky and Butterbeer. Clusters of round tables were scattered around the left side of the bar, as well as five large, plush, red couches which gathered at one corner near the enormous fireplace. At the back of the bar were the restrooms, a staircase leading to the second floor, and also a few shelves which held old-looking books, surrounded by more plush couches. A seven-foot-tall Christmas tree stood at the back corner, which was cheerfully decorated and surrounded with presents. The bar had been seasonally decorated with enchanted snowflakes hanging from the rafters, and stockings hung from the fireplace.
Harry smiled and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on a hook by the door while he made his way to the bar to order a drink. He had dressed warmly, wearing a long sleeved moss green V-neck sweater that exposed his well-worked and slightly tanned chest, and thick corduroy pants hugged at his muscular legs. His partially damp hair hung shaggily over his eyes and ears. He truly was the most breathtaking guy in the bar, and all witches seemed to take notice.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked, an attractive blonde witch with piercing purple eyes. She placed her hands on her slim hips, which were covered with a black apron.
"One Firewhisky is fine," Harry said, leaning against the bar and charming her with his smile. The bartender beamed and quickly grabbed him a bottle, cranking off the top before placing it into his hand. Harry made his way to sit by the fireplace to let his hair dry.
On one side of the bar, a witch caught his attention. Her back was to him, but her long, shiny red hair hung loose down her back, stopping almost to her waist, and she wore a form fitting blue sweater dress with dark grey tights and mid-calf-high black wool boots. She was cheerfully talking to another witch, who had long black hair tied into a low side ponytail, bright blue eyes, and was paler than a ghost.
Harry bit his bottom lip and stood up, making his way over to the two witches. Softly, he tapped her shoulder. "Excuse me, but do I know you?"
Excruciatingly slow, the redhead turned around to face him. Those large, blue eyes Harry had once been in love with met his emeralds, and a soft scatter of freckles over a petite nose turned to face him.
Ginny Weasley.
Taking a look from head to toe, Ginny beamed up at Harry with admiration and slowly lifted herself from the bar stool. "It can't be you!" she exclaimed, raising the back of her hand to brush the hair over his forehead away. His scar gleamed at her, causing Ginny to squeal with delight and wrap her long arms around his neck. "Harry!"
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Harry buried his face into her sweet-smelling red hair, holding her lower back with one hand. He had forgotten how elegant she smelt, how it felt to have her tiny body against his, to feel her arms around his neck – he missed her, he couldn't deny that.
"How are you? How's Hermione? And Ron? And your mother, your father? I miss you all, so much." Harry's words came out in one long, frantic sentence. This made Ginny giggle.
"Oh Harry, it's so different without you. It's so different when Ron and Hermione and you aren't talking. I hate it." Ginny sighed and lowered her arms to rest her hands on his wrists, looking up into his eyes. "Ron isn't the same person, really, and Hermione's a wreck when he acts up. He's just so angry almost all of the time. Deep down, I know he misses you. Hermione definitely misses you. I wish things were like Hogwarts again," she murmured.
Harry frowned and ducked under to face Ginny, moving a tear away from her fair cheek with his thumb. "I really miss everyone as well, Ginny. Especially you," he whispered. Ginny shivered.
The door to the bar flew open, causing Ginny to look up and Harry to turn around. A blast of cold air and snow flurries flew into the bar as a hooded figure stood in the doorway, one hand on the door frame, the other on the door knob. Slowly, the figure closed the door and removed his hood. Underneath was a handsome man in his mid-twenties with soft, brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes. He had a broad chin with a single cleft, and was tall – much taller than Harry, who was merely 6 ft 2 compared to this man, who was 6 ft 5 at least.
The man hung his coat beside Harry's and beamed when he saw Ginny, running over to embrace her in his arms – and kiss her full on the lips! It was only then, when Ginny was floating in circles within this man's arms, did Harry notice the sparkling 4ct diamond ring on Ginny's ring finger.
Somehow, Ginny managed to pry herself from Ethan's arms to smile up at Harry, her hand twined into the man's. "Harry! This is my fiancé, Ethan Thatcher. Ethan, this is my ex-b… uh, brother's old best friend from school – Harry Potter."
Harry's heart sunk – fiancé? Ginny was engaged?! She was only 22 years old, and had the innocence of an angel. Yet here she was, engaged to someone who would probably end up a complete bastard by the time they were married. He had no idea what to say, what to think. His mouth was dry and his hands were desperately trying to find something to punch.
"Harry Potter? Fascinating. Well, it's nice to meet you. Any friend of Ron's is a friend of mine," he said, with such cockiness that Harry began to clench his hands into fists at his sides.
"The pleasures all mine," Harry spat behind gritted teeth. Here he was, on his first night out in a year, and he had run into the one girl who had stolen his heart completely – and she was engaged to a complete prick. "If you'll excuse me for a second, I need to use the bathroom." He stood up quickly and sprinted towards the bathroom doors.
The bathroom was gritty and grimy, but that was the last thing on Harry's mind. Quickly, he strode over to the sink and poured hot water into it until it was full, then splashed his face with the steaming liquid. It drenched the tips of his bangs, and he glared up into the mirror. The moment he saw Ginny from across the room, a rekindled romance shot through his nerves, through his blood. He ached for her since the day he left her. He needed her more than ever.
Noticing how suspicious he looked, Harry pulled his wand out of his waistband and flicked it towards his reflection, casting a drying spell over his hair, and walked out of the bathroom. The first thing he saw when he walked out was Ginny's back against Ethan's chest, and his hands on her backside. To Harry's relief, she moved away when she saw him walk out of the bathroom.
"Harry, Ethan and I were just talking, and we'd love it if you came back to the Burrow with us this weekend. Mum would be so happy to see you! And I'm sure you and Ron could somehow make up for the past – whatever that past was, exactly. Oh, and you know how happy Hermione would be! You could stay for a few days, or possibly a week. I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind!" Ginny's bright blue eyes shone with hope, which made Harry's heart sink into a puddle underneath his body.
"Well, I'll have to check my work schedule. I mean, the office has been killing me to hand in some paperwork for quite some time now…" Harry began, but was interrupted by Ginny's bottom lip curling into a pout. He sighed. "But I'm sure I can work my way around it, somehow."
"Ooh, goodie Harry!" She lifted herself from Ethan's arms and wound her arms tightly around Harry's neck. "It'll be so much fun to have the whole family there again. I mean, the school family. You know… Oh never mind me, I'm rambling. I'm just so excited!" she cooed, giggling as she swung herself around Harry.
As Harry lifted his eyes from Ginny's swinging body with a smile, his eyes met Ethan's – who was glaring at him with some loathing hatred. There was no doubt that there was something evil about Ethan Thatcher, the man who Ginny had chosen to spend the rest of her life with. Suddenly, a light bulb went on in Harry's mind. Ginny didn't have to marry Ethan. There must have been specific flaws about him that she didn't see. And it would be Harry would discover these flaws, drive their marriage apart, and claim what was rightfully his – Ginevra Molly Weasley.