So I had an idea for a story where someone gets drunk on Firewhiskey, but now that I have this blank document in front of me I'm not sure who my victim should be. Or why he's drinking to begin with. I want it to be Harry but I don't know why he's drinking.

DISCLAIMER: I am not, nor have I ever been J.K. Rowling no matter how much I wish for it. All characters that are previously mentioned at some point in her books are hers. And all characters not mentioned by her are mine, so there.

Harry grimaced as he tossed back another glass of Firewhiskey. The music of the fairly new bar pulsating around him. The dance floor was more of just a throbbing, grinding mass of people, and he still couldn't get the horrible images out of his head. It was like a reel of recaps on everything that ever made him feel bad.

His mum and dad dying. His mum's desperate screams filled his head. After the first few shots those faded away, only to be replaced by Cedric.

Over and over again he could see Cedric's body just flop to the ground lifeless and then he was alone. Alone like always because no one should be around him. They always get killed if they are around him.

Right now the memory reel was focused Sirius falling into the veil. Each time it replayed he was always just that little bit closer to actually saving Sirius until finally, on his fifth shot, he stood in front of Sirius only to have Bellatrix's killing curse glide harmlessly through him and onto Sirius.

Downing another and becoming completely wasted, he felt that this was the only way to deal with this. Hermione and Ron were better off without him anyway. They have each other and all he'd do is put them in more danger. And he couldn't even think about asking Ginny to take him back. That was just insane. He couldn't be romantically involved with anyone without hurting them.

And then the memory reel was back. He watched behind his lids, relishing in the pain he knew he deserved, as Albus Dumbledore fell from the Astronomy Tower. Then it flashed to Dumbledore's funeral, where it seemed that Ginny was crumpled on the ground similar to how she looked in the Chamber of Secrets, but this time it was his fault. He caused her this pain.

He swallowed and grimaced around another shot. Then another.

His whole seventeenth year seemed to play before his eyes. Ron left. How could Ron leave him? Harry had always thought of Ron as his brother. Apparently he was wrong. But, he couldn't blame Ron. Its not like Harry ever did anything for Ron but shunting him to the side for more important things it seemed. But Ron came back, didn't he? Yes, Ron came back. But then Fred died. Fred died because of Harry, so Harry won't force his presence on anyone in the Weasley family since he caused Fred to die. And then there was Tonks and Lupin. How could he have let them die. They had a son. He should've shouted and pushed until they went back to the now orphaned Teddy Lupin. How could he be such a horrible person as to allow them to come and fight.

And now Teddy will never know his parents. He'll never know how much pride shone on his father's face as he displayed a picture of his son. He'll never know.

How broken could he possibly be, Harry thought to himself. He's sat here at a bar drinking his woes away. But only because all else seemed to fail. And then a picture of Ginny flashed in his mind. She was whispering to him.

"Harry?" she asked. "Harry, hun, are you alright?" She seemed very concerned. He's never gotten this drunk, he didn't think so anyway. Drunk enough to have apparitions of his ex-girlfriend, whom he still loved.

"I'm fiiiiiine," he slurred out. "But you shoudint be heeere," he said to his illusion, probably looking insane.

"Why shouldn't I be here, love?" she asked smoothing his hair down.

He sighed and leaned into her touch. "Becuz yer not real. Its all an illuuzun," he said wiggling his fingers in front of her face.

"Ok Harry, you're piss arsed drunk," she said soothingly. "Let's get you home, love."

She grasped his arm firmly and tugged him up from his slouched position at the bar. He followed sluggishly behind her. He seemed to be just as confused as he was sitting at the bar. Until they were hit by the fresh air outside. Then all of a sudden he wrenched away from her grasp and tried going the opposite way of the aparation point. "Where are you going?" Ginny asked angrily, chasing after him.

"Nowhere," he answered.

"You are coming home right now." Ginny tried to push him back to the aparation point, but it didn't work like she planned. Because he sat down on the sidewalk.

"What home?" Harry asked miserably.

Ginny looked at him, once again concerned. "The Burrow, Harry. Your home."

"I don't have a home. I have other people's homes. And I can't let the Weasley's see me like this. It's already my fault that Fred's gone. I can't make them take care of someone they really hate."

"Oh, love. No one hates you. We all love you. Mum loves you. I love you. No one blames you for anything," she said trying to talk him into going home. It was rather cold and she didn't have her cloak with her.

"They should," he replied. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to go to number something Grimmauld street. Or something like that." Harry looked up at Ginny as if just realizing she was there. "Ginny what are you doing here?" he asked sounding rather more sober.

"I'm taking you home." she said worriedly.

"Why do I need help going to Grimmauld place?" he asked her.

"I was going to take you to the Burrow so that you can sleep off your hangover and eat something that you didn't have to cook for the first time in 3 months."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need your help," Harry said rather waspishly.

"Ok, well then come on." Ginny took hold of his arm again. "Let's get you to Grimmauld place before you pass out cold." And without walking to the aparation point she turned and reappeared in the park across the street from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Ginny dragged him across the street and stood at the front door. With Harry heavily leaning on her, he dug through his pockets until he finally found his key. Ginny snagged it from him, but before he could protest the door was open and she pulled him into the foyer.

From there she dragged him up several flights of stairs with him dragging and complaining the whole way about how he didn't need her here.

She finally made it to Sirius' old room, which seemed to be the only inhabitable place at the moment, and dropped him on the bed. She quickly brought his legs up so that he was properly laying down. He seemed to be in between sleep and consciousness at the moment and was in no state to get dressed for bed. So she set about taking his shoes off. Then his robes. Then his pants. She turned ready to leave him in his boxers and t-shirt and made it to the door when she heard a whisper. She turned back and looked at Harry.

"What was that, love?"

"Please," he breathed, almost asleep. "Don't leave me. I'm sorry." And with that he turned and fell asleep. Ginny's breath caught in her throat as she sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through his hair.

"It's ok. I won't leave. Never again." She said as she, too, lay down and fell asleep.

So not how I planned it to come out. I was hoping for some jealous drinking and I couldn't think how to do that with canon. Because no matter how much I read it, I can't write non-canon pairings. So instead this somewhat sad and self-deprecating Harry came to life and he drank his sorrows away. I don't think I'll continue this, but if you liked it let me know. Who knows maybe it'll be a two-shot.

Lots of love

Courtne