Disclaimer:  Any characters, places, or things belonging to the world of "Harry Potter" do NOT belong to me.  If I had, I'd be in my dream house right now with my millions of pounds (money, not weight, thank you very much) and trying to figure out how to get Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix out before a mob of insane Potterholics breaks down my door and takes me hostage until it comes out. (To find out more, go to www.insanepotterholicsreadytocommitafelony.com (so j/k)) Yeah, that would be J.K. Rowling.  And the whole plot of the story is based on the song by Dan Fogelberg, "Same Auld Lang Syne."

~*~*~

            It was her hair that made me look again.  It always had been her hair that enchanted me.  I could spend hours gently running my hands through those fiery curls, so soft and comforting.  So when I glanced it while passing through the aisles, I had to go back and see… see if it was her.

            When I slowly backtracked, and that beautiful figure came back into view, my heart gave a leap.  Her emerald cloak flowed lazily to the floor, making that beautiful hair shine twice as bright.  She was poised so delicately, examining labels with an indecisive frown.  She always had seemed unsure, but when Ginny Weasley made a decision, it was that way or no way.

            I walked slowly toward her, unsure myself.  Glancing at her left hand hovering over the product she was contemplating, I saw something that made my heart drop back down.  A ring.  Oh, so what?  We're friends.  We could still talk.  I came up behind her and gently tapped her shoulder.  She turned, at first confused at who I was, but then her eyes grew open wide and she smiled.

            "Harry!" she cried, moving to hug me.

            Her coin bag must have slipped with the sudden movement for it came crashing to the ground.  We both stooped to pick the coins up, laughing more than was natural.  It's amazing how at awkward moments everything becomes extremely funny, allowing you to blame your tears on the laughter.

            "Oh, it's so great to see you," she said, finishing the hug she had started.

            "You, too," I said, unable to stop that dreamy smile from coming to my lips.

            We eventually made our way to the check-out counter, wearing thin the topics of "How are you?" and "Some weather we're having, huh?"  Stepping outside into the cold, we shivered in silence a moment.  Watching the falling snow create a halo around her angelic face, I couldn't help but wish that ring on her finger would disappear.  But no, we were friends.  Those years were behind us.

            "Want to join me at the Three Broomsticks?" I asked, trying to keep my tone friendly and nothing more.

            "Oh, I don't know," she said, biting her lip, "I really should get home…"

            "C'mon, just a friendly little butterbeer," I said, smiling softly, "I've waited fifteen years; he can wait fifteen minutes."

            Fingering that ring, she smiled shyly; that smile I loved more than life.

            "Okay then."

            We headed for the pub.  I felt I was walking on air just being near her.

            "So, what're you doing out on Christmas Eve?" I asked.

            "Oh, picking up a few things for tomorrow's annual feast.  It's going to be a big family affair."

            "Sounds nice."

            We entered the pub and ordered the warm drinks.  I looked around, all the lonely drifters here celebrating alone.  I didn't want to share my Ginny with them.

            "Want to go outside?" I asked, "To the pavilion in the park?"

            Any other person would have objected to the cold, but my Ginny just smiled and said, "Sure."

            We headed out, reaching the pavilion soon and sitting on the benches, sipping our drinks.  I tried to keep my eyes on the falling snow, away from her, but I couldn't help but glance at her hand; that hand I longed to hold, and would but for that ring.

            "So, tell me about him," I said suddenly.

            She nearly choked on her butterbeer.

            "Whoa, you okay?" I asked, patting her back.

            "The question just surprised me," she coughed, smiling.

            After she had caught her breath and took a sip to wash away the remaining raspiness, she spoke up.

            "He's nice.  And successful.  He's an architect, and his company is very high in demand.  And I couldn't ask for a better father for our children.  It's just…"  She sighed, looking at me with a sad smile.  "Well, I'd like to say I love the man… but I don't like to lie."

            I smiled slightly, though my heart panged for her.  I looked at her, watched her, and knew that her life was complete, but for that same love I lacked.

            "Well," I said, turning my glass in my hands and trying to change the subject, "I propose a toast.  Here's to Hogwarts; to good times, good friends, and the innocent years."

            She laughed, clinging her glass against mine.  "Yes, we always were "innocent", weren't we?" she said, taking a gulp.

            "Quite," I smiled, taking a drink myself, "Of course, never as innocent as Saints Fred and George."

            Again she laughed, and I thought I might die.  She'd always laughed so wonderfully, eyes bright and voice dulcet.  I couldn't help it.  She was so beautiful and wonderful and…everything.  Just how she was so long ago.

            "The years have been a friend to you," I said quietly when she'd fallen silent, "You're eyes are just as blue as they were fifteen years ago."

            She smiled, but in those eyes I wasn't sure if I saw doubt or gratitude.

            "You've changed.  So much so that I almost didn't recognize you," she said, "But most of it is good change.  I miss your glasses, though."

            I smiled.  "It's kind of hard to play quidditch with those things constantly slipping down your nose."

            "How is that going, by the way?  I've seen your name in the paper, so you must be doing well."

            "Yeah, pretty much.  The practicing in hell to me, but the fans…they're hell."

            She laughed.  "I hope you enjoy yourself more than that."

            "Ah, nah.  Overall, my life is great.  There are just a few things I'd like to change," I said, losing myself in those blue eyes again.

            "Well then," she said, lifting her glass, "I propose a toast to now."

            "To now," I smiled, tapping her glass with my own.

            "So," she said after we had taken a drink, "How do you plan to spend New Year's Eve?"

            "Party-hopping, basically.  That's the price you pay for being a socialite.  Not that I had much choice in the matter."

            "Goes with the uniform, huh?"

            "Yep.  But what about you.  What are your plans?"

            "Oh, not much.  Just staying up and watching movies with the kids.  See another year come and go."

            I smiled, slightly, though I didn't feel like it.  "Well, let's toast the last gulp to time, and another Auld Lang Syne."

            "Hear, hear," she said, smiling.

            We downed the last of the butterbeer and the glasses disappeared, back to the Three Broomsticks.  We sat there a moment, but there was nothing more to say.  Fifteen years, and there was nothing more to say…

            "I'm glad I ran into you, Ginny," I said, handing her the groceries.

            "Me, too," she smiled.

            "We should do this again after the next fifteen years."

            "No, I expect you to keep closer tabs on me, Mr. Potter," she scolded playfully, "You can't hide from me forever."

            Then she reached up and kissed my cheek, and was gone.  I looked at the darkness, wishing for a chance, a change, for who-knows-what.  Just for a moment, I was back at school and felt that old familiar pain.  Fifteen years, and it was back with me.  She was gone again, and I had just let her go.  Of course, this time I had no choice.  Or did I?

            I finally stood up with a sigh and started walking.  Just walking to wherever I might go.  And as I stepped from the lights of the pavilion into the empty street, the snow turned into rain…

~*~*~

A/N:  Those who know me best know I'm not an H/G fan.  At all.  In fact, I pride myself in shaking the confidence of H/G supporters.  But hey, I'm allowed to go beyond my own prejudices to write a story, aren't I?  ^_^  Please R&R.

            And for those waiting for a new chapter of HP and the SP…  After this week, I swear.  AP tests these week, but once they're over, time will be quite abundant!  *cheers*  Wish me luck.  ^_^

            Be excellent to each other!

            -Ady