Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, his friends, or anything else in his universe. That belongs to the lovely J.K. Rowling. Who I love. And I hope doesn't sue me.
Ginny Weasley was running across the street as quickly as she could manage in her tight black pants and strappy shoes. The heels clicked on the damp pavement and she ran a quick hand through her mess of red waves before hopping up onto the curb. She tugged a bit at her rather low-cut, lacy teal top that looked a bit more like something the likes of Lavender Brown would wear than anything Ginny Weasley would be caught dead in. But…when you worked in a muggle bar, where the tips were great, some sacrifices had to be made. Especially when you were working two jobs and just barely making rent every month. Then even more sacrifices had to be made. Luckily, because it was a muggle bar, Ginny's chances of seeing anyone she knew, ever, were slim and none.
First off, she wasn't in contact with many people recently. Not outside her family anyhow. Not since the war really. And that was five years ago. She owled Hermione every so often and the two tried to have lunch or something at least once a month, but other than that, Ginny really only talked to her parents and brothers. Even she and Harry hadn't even seen each other since the end of the war. He'd gone into hiding or something because he hadn't talked to anyone really in the last several months.
Second off, even if someone she knew happened to fancy themselves a trip to a muggle bar, it was highly unlikely that they would fancy themselves a trip to this particular muggle bar. Not when there were six others on the same block. Though, truth be told, it was the best out of all of them.
Ginny pulled open the door and stepped inside, hurrying to get behind the bar before Jeff saw that she was late…again. Unfortunately, he emerged from the back room just as she was slipping under the divider.
"Late again, Ginny." He said with a slight shake of his head. But he was smiling showing that she wasn't really in any trouble.
"Good thing you can't afford to run this place without me." Ginny said with a smirk. She grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured herself a shot, throwing it back in a less-than-lady-like manner. Jeff, while impressed with her ability to do such things without a chaser or anything, rolled his eyes and shook his head a bit.
"You think you can handle the rush by yourself until Tara gets here, drunky?" He asked taking some money out of the register.
"I'm working with Tara?" Ginny asked sounding slightly winey. It wasn't that she didn't like the blonde, actually, the two tended to have a right good time joking around. Tara just tended to kill all of Ginny's tips. She was in a word, stunning and was working on becoming an actress. The only reason she was working in the bar was because her and Jeff were best friends and Jeff needed the help.
"Don't give me that face! You and Tara bring in the most profit out of any other pair of tenders here. I wish you two could run the bar every night of the week. Unfortunately, she's off trying to become the next star of London and you…I don't even know what your second job is, but I know you have one which is why you only work on Monday, Wednesdays and then the two days on the weekend. Anytime you guys have similar days I put you on together. Simple matter of making money." He gave a shrug and headed towards the back.
"Then I should get a raise!" Ginny called after him. Jeff pretended not to hear her as he disappeared behind the black swinging door. "Wanker!" She shouted with a laugh. Shaking her head she grabbed the bottle of scotch again and took another shot for herself. She always liked to be a little buzzed when she was working as it helped to make her a bit more friendly.
After about an hour of tending and making just under a hundred pounds, the door swung open and a slender blonde strutted inside. She was wearing an outfit similar to the redhead's. Tight pants and a rather revealing top. It was red and only came to just her navel. She gave Ginny a quick wave before slipping under the bar, not bothering with the latch.
"'Ello love!" She said with a bright smile pecking Ginny on both cheeks. She was a very bubbly girl and very friendly. "Everythin' goin' alright?"
"Hullo!" Ginny said returning the pecks. "Everything is brilliant!" She replied to the question with a smile. "You go say a quick hullo to Jeff, I'll be fine for another few minutes." She said as a customer stepped up to the bar asking for a pint and a whiskey. She bounced around behind the bar, grabbing glasses and the bottle of whiskey. Tara laughed at her before disappearing behind the door in a wave of blonde.
She handed the man his drinks and took his money with a smile. She gave him a wink as he slipped her an extra few pounds and bounced over to the cash machine.
Harry was out for another one of his late night walks. It was the only way to deal with the nights. The nights were always worse. During the day he kept himself busy fixing up what was left of his parents' old home in Godric's Hollow. It was a new project of his and even with magic it was difficult to manage. He had to do most of it the muggle way anyway because of the surrounding neighbors.
He strolled down the street, in muggle London, hands shoved deep into his pants pockets, shoulders hunched forward his head hanging as he stared intently at the ground. His jet black hair was a bit messier than usual, and his glasses on his face were a little crooked, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. His eyes had sunken in a little bit, his face looking a little bit hallowed as if he hadn't eaten a proper meal in years. His emerald eyes had lost the sparkle they'd once held.
He was lost in thought, as he usually was when he took his walks. Thinking about the same thing he always thought about. What if he'd stayed in the wizarding world? What if he hadn't gone and basically disappeared without so much as a word to almost anyone. Of course he kept limited contact with Ron and Hermione. But that was different. And it was only owls. It was only once every few weeks, sometimes months and the letters always said the basically the same thing. "Dear Harry, Are you coming back soon? Love Ron/Hermione" and he always replied the same way. "Dear Ron/Hermione, Not yet." Of course, they sometimes had other details or worded the questions a bit differently, but it was all the same. What if he'd never left? Where would he be? Would he be happy? Because he still wasn't happy where he was…
He tripped over something and was torn from his thoughts. Looking up he found himself standing in front of a bar that looked muggle he gave a shrug and decided that a drink wasn't going to hurt anything. It might actually help him get his mind off of things.
He straightened his glasses before pulling open the door to the tavern. He stepped inside and gave a quick look around. It was fairly crowded, but not overly so. Thankfully. Making his way over to the bar, he found himself an empty barstool and sat down, letting his hand prop up his head as he stared down at the oak bar.
"Just a pint, please." He requested to the barmaid who was only a few feet away from him.
Ginny heard a familiar voice from behind her and nearly dropped the glass she'd been wiping. She knew it in an instant. It was him. And even though she hadn't seen him in about five years, she knew she wasn't mistaken. Her heart began to pound in her chest and the all too familiar flush came to her cheeks. She wasn't expecting this. She wasn't ready.
It had been five long years since the end of the war and five long years since she'd seen him. Five years of getting herself to the point where she was almost ready to begin to get over him. She used to cry herself to sleep every night. She used to write him letters every day, then once a week, then once a month. Then her letters stopped completely. None of them were answered. She knew things would've changed after the war. She just hadn't been prepared for how much they'd changed.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed a clean glass for him and went to the tap, getting his pint. She turned to face him, but his head was down. Maybe she could make herself unnoticed. Maybe she could just have Tara help him the rest of the night. Maybe he wouldn't recognize her. She wasn't ready to talk to him just yet.
"It's on the house." She said as she set the glass down, turning back around quickly so that he wouldn't be able to see her face.
Harry's head shot up as the voice registered in his ears. He could've sworn it was her. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since the day he took off. He thought maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. He'd seen her face in so many strangers. Heard her voice in his dreams at night. He'd been haunted by the memory of her and as his eyes caught the familiar flash of red hair, his heart nearly stopped beating.
"Ginny…" He breathed. She wouldn't have heard him. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to.
It couldn't be her. This was a muggle bar. Besides, she wouldn't have been wearing a shirt like…that or jeans that tight. He wasn't entirely sure she knew what jeans were. He was used to seeing her in robes. But the longer he sat there, trying to get a glimpse of her face, the more he needed to find out if was her or not. The more his heart yearned for her.
He hadn't meant to ignore her letters. But every time he sat down with his quill to write her back, he found himself at a loss for words. What could he possibly say to the girl that he loved that he'd completely abandoned for his own selfish reasons? The longer he waited to write, the harder it became. He found himself horribly depressed when her letters stopped. It obviously meant that she'd moved on and he needed to do the same. He hadn't though. He hadn't even tried to forget her. She was the reminder of how wonderful life had been before the war. How perfect things had been for three glorious weeks before his entire world began crumbling before his eyes.
Not being able to stand it anymore he stood up from his stool and followed the barmaid to the other end of the bar. It was a bit crowded and he had to stretch to see over some of the other customers. Pushing his way to the front, he found himself face to face with the one girl he he'd ever really loved.
"Gin…" He said softly. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She looked like something out of a dream. Part of him wanted to jump over the bar and take her in his arms, never wanting to let go. But he stayed rooted to the spot. There was, after all, a very good chance that she hated him. That she would kill him right then and there. And to be quite honest, he wouldn't blame her in the least.
Her hazel eyes met his emerald ones and she didn't know whether to cry or laugh, to scream at him out of anger or jump for joy. He'd remembered her. It was really him…and thought he looked a bit older, tired, he was the same. He was exactly like she remembered.
"Harry…what are you doing here?" She asked finally finding her voice. An instinctive hand went to tuck a strand of fiery hair behind her ear.
"I was just…passing through." He said still amazed that it was truly her. Amazed that she wasn't hexing him right there. Not that she could considering where they were, but that thought hadn't really crossed his mind. "What're you doi-…Does your mum know you're here?" He asked, suddenly realizing just what Molly Weasley's daughter was doing. He was sure the older woman would not approve of such behavior. She'd been upset enough when the twins opened their joke shop. Her only daughter parading around in skimpy outfits and serving people would surely but worse.
"Erm…no. She doesn't. She thinks I'm a waitress on the weekends. They all do." Ginny said shaking her head a bit. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not living at the Burrow anymore anyway." She said as if that much was obvious. She was 23 years old after all. "I…Erm…I don't even…Where have you been?" She blurted out without really thinking. It had been five years. Five long years and there were a million questions running through her head. Most of which couldn't be asked or answered.
Before Harry had a chance to answer a rather large hairy bloke who looked about three times Harry's size came up to the bar, staggering just a little bit. He did not look entirely friendly and he sort of growled when he spoke, only further increasing his intimidating appearance.
"Oy, Dollface!" he called to Ginny, ripping the redhead from her conversation. "I'll have a jack on the rocks and a gin and tonic." And after a pause he gave a lecherous grin. "And your phone number." He winked at Ginny who inward shuddered, but outwardly grinned at the man. She moved to go get him his drinks when she heard something that under normal circumstances, would've made her heart melt, but right now, just made her a bit terrified for her job sake.
"Hey! Don't you talk to her like that!" Harry's angry voice. "Can't you see we were having a bloody conversation?!" He'd forgotten that Ginny was in fact working and also the fact that well…he was a right size smaller than the bloke who he was screaming at.
Ginny wanted to face palm herself, but instead, just hurried to get the gentleman's drinks so that she could do some damage control.
"Are you fecking talking to me?" The man demanded, standing up to full height as he towered over Harry menacingly.
"Here you are! It's on the house." Ginny said brightly, motioning Harry to the other end of the bar with an urgent nod. The man looked like he couldn't decide between pounding Harry's face in or the alcohol for a moment, but Harry took advantage of that fact and grudgingly slipped away and headed towards the other end of the bar. What was she getting so pissy about? He was just sticking up for her. It wasn't like she liked those blokes talking to her like that…right? Bleeding hell what was he doing?
Ginny tried to sort through her thoughts so that she didn't end up screaming at him. Who in bloody hell did he think he was? Waltzing in here and insulting her customers. That would've been a good tip that she'd gotten and now it was shot to hell! He was being ridiculous. He didn't know who she was anymore. He'd been the one to leave. He'd been the one to disappear. She'd written him so many times and he hadn't written back. Not even once. Her facial expression set into a cold glare, she stormed to meet him at the opposite end of the bar.
"Harry what in bleeding hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded in a hiss as not to cause a scene.
"He was being bloody rude to you! You were just going to take that shite?" He shot back at her, his own temper rising. She didn't get that he was just trying to protect her?
"Yes!" She hissed back. "Yes I was because it's my job to take that shite. In fact. I love taking that shite because it's usually accompanied by a fairly large tip and as lovely as this pub is, I am not here for my health!" Her face was getting a bit red and Harry couldn't help but be slightly amused by her temper. She hadn't changed. Well, she had, but it was in the way that she was exactly the same and completely different all at once. "Look. If you can't stay here without being a complete and utter wanker about me getting tips, you should just go. It was nice seeing you, but I'm working."
"I'm sorry, Gin. Really. I…I should've realized and here." He handed her about fifteen pounds. "To pay for that bloke's drinks." He explained after receiving a very puzzled look.
Ginny shook her head and pushed the money back to him. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry." She said with a sigh. But Harry wasn't hearing any of it. He closed her fingers around the paper bills and shook his head.
"No. Take it. Honestly, Ginny. Take it." He urged, giving her an almost pleading look. His emerald eyes meeting her warm honey brown ones for the first time that evening. Something inside of him woke up as he caught the glimmer of something in her eyes. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "When do you get off work?" He asked softly.
"Two." She answered automatically. She was hypnotized by his gaze. She could feel herself losing the small bit of control she'd managed to build up over the years. She needed him to leave so that she could clear her head. So that she could rationalize this. She needed to move on. He didn't mean to come and find her and he wasn't coming back for her. He wasn't and she needed to make her heart believe this.
"I'll be back." He said with a grin. He leaned up and pecked her on the cheek before disappearing in the crowd.
Ginny turned back around to see Tara standing there, a hand on her hip and a wide grin on her face.
"Who's the bloke?" She asked with a wry smile. Ginny smiled and let out a sigh. Shaking her head she looked over at her friend.
"The best and the worst thing that ever happened to me." She said simply before grabbing the bottle of scotch and pouring herself a glass. She threw it back in a less than lady-like fashion, winced a little and then went back to work.