A/N – This is supposed to be Harry's train of thought (sort of) about the people he's known / relationships over his life, so that's why it's scattered and slightly illogical in places. Um … I hope you'll see what I mean. I'm not too sure about this one.

Also this is slightly non – canon in that it isn't Harry/Ginny. This is because I think in canon Ginny just went from 'schoolgirl with a crush' to 'serious love interest' with almost no interim. Also, why does the love of your life have to be decided when you're sixteen? Anyway, I shouldn't start on that on. On with the One Shot.

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His Parents had loved him, he was certain of that, but all he could remember was their deaths. He tried not to think of that. He failed.

The Dursley's hatred of Harry was absolute, there was no confusion there on either side, at least until the very last moment with Dudley's clumsy apology and proclamation that he didn't think Harry was a waste of space. It didn't mean anything, Harry knew that.

There was a time, he remembered, when he had craved Molly Weasley's hugs and cakes, her fussing over him. This, he had thought, must be like having a family. Now he realised that it was caricature of her poor, starving hero that had turned up, twelve years old and recently rescued, on her doorstep, that she had loved, and now, even when he was twenty five and so different, she still had that caricature in her mind. Sometimes he thought being loved for something you weren't was worse than being hated.

Yet still he craved those hugs and cakes. And Molly Weasley was good at hugs and cakes.

And then Sirius. His relationship with Sirius had been far too confused to ever be sane. He had so desperately wanted Sirius to be the carer he needed, and many times he had been. He had gone to Sirius for advice and comfort. Sirius had directed and guided him and yet Sirius had also been his most mischievous friend and partner in crime. It had been intense and maddening. He had wanted the friend and he had wanted the carer and he had loved them both.

Then Sirius had died and no death since had ever devastated him quite as much.

Remus was different yet again. They were extraordinarily close when Remus had been Harry's professor, yet as Harry's friend, he was always … professorial. Not distant, not quite that. Distant implies cold, yet even though they were friends, there was a part of Remus that was always Harry's professor.

Dumbledore. His teacher, his mentor, his master manipulator, but never his friend. Harry's feelings about Dumbledore could swing from murderous to kindly depending on the day (who, after all, left him, on the doorstep, with the Dursley's, and didn't check on him? Who manipulated him his whole life for the 'Greater Good?). But Dumbledore's list of achievements and kindnesses went on just as long as his faults, but as for Harry himself, there was no friend or carer for him in Dumbledore.

Then came his friends.

When he had met Ron, on that first train ride to Hogwarts (he could still remember every moment) he had been so unused to people being kind to him that he had latched on, limpet like to the first boy to show him affection.

They could never understand each other, because Ron was jealous of Harry's fame and Harry was jealous of Ron's family, and neither could understand the other's jealousy. But that was all right, because all friends argue, occasionally, and it faded, over time, they both grew up. Ironically as Ron's desperate desire for fame and recognition faded (a little) his actual fame increased. Harry gained an assorted family, of sorts.

And Hermione, who they had become uneasy friends with, after the troll, and great friends with after … everything else. Whirlwind Hermione, with her thousand books and a thousand more good causes. Hermione, who was like a sister, he thought. He wasn't quite sure what 'like a sister meant', never having had one, but it seemed to fit best.

Then all of a sudden Ron and Hermione were married and the Trio was broken in the best possible way. He wasn't forgotten or lost, he was still their best friend and brother, but he wasn't truly part of their family any more; they had made a new one and though he was so happy for them, some small, lonely part of him hurt.

And so he had married Ginny.

He knew it was rash and stupid, but he ignored that and held on to the feelings of a sixteen year old, in the rush and height of a war, running to the arms of this glorious red head who managed to dim the feelings of loss and grief and fear.

He resolutely ignored the fact that after said war they had talked again and, embarrassed, she had admitted that she had never quite lost the little girl who had had a crush on the boy who saved her life, and having realised this, she had now tried to move on. Equally embarrassed, he had admitted that his relationship with her was the desperate attempt of a boy trying to ignore the world, it had been like another life, and could they be friends please?

But now the man Ginny had truly fallen in love with had died and so she had fallen into the arms of Harry, who hadn't the sanity to say no. And they married in a marriage everyone, even them, knew was doomed to fail. And it did. In flames.

Dear Heroes Monthly,

When you have finished your hero business and everyone close to you has either died or, like normal, sane people moved on with their lives, what do you do? Do you mope for all eternity? Although frankly, I'd rather not, I think I've done my fair share. Obviously a tragic, heroic death is now out of the question, so what next?

But no, he knew, a normal life was not for him. Things had a tendency to happen around him, even before Hogwarts, and all eyes would always be upon him, as their saviour, even the now bright blue eyes of one Teddy Lupin. He smiled. For now, that would be enough.

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