A Home
Lyrics: A Home by Dixie Chicks on the album Home
Harry Potter stood in the middle of his posh living room with his head hung, chin touching his chest. It wasn't the first time he had been in this room, wishing for something else, something more, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
The crimson light of the fire caught his eye and reminded him, once again, why he was there alone. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. He prided himself on the fact that he could protect her this way. He reasoned that even if it practically killed him, he had protected her as much as he could. He never thought about what it might have done to her.
I mistook the warnings for wisdom From so called friends quick to advise Though your touch was telling me otherwise
As he walked toward the fireplace to start his nightly roaming of his gigantic house, he thought of her. Harry Potter loved Ginny Weasley more than anyone could ever have seen. It tore at his heart to know he had turned her away. Originally, it was because the depth of his feelings scared him so much. When he got over the initial shock of his love for her, Voldemort was back into power and it scared him that she would be hurt in the crossfire. He wouldn't have been able to handle that. Five years ago, when the battles were all over, it scared him to find out that she had moved on. After Ron assured him that she hadn't, it scared him that she would never forgive him.
Somehow I saw you as a weakness I thought I had to be strong
Oh but I was just young, I was scared, I was wrong
Harry's eyes narrowed as he walked along the corridor to the front door. His pride kept him from her. He felt the need to protect her, and this was the only way to do so in his mind. Wanting to keep her safe, Potter? Please. Harry heard Malfoy's cold voice over and over in his head. He couldn't help but agree.
Ginny fascinated him. She was such his opposite. She threw caution to the wind and did what she wanted. Lived her life however she felt necessary. She followed her heart and let it lead her through life. That thought alone scared Harry more than anything, as he never did anything that wasn't precisely calculated for someone's protection, be it his or someone else that he loved. The more he thought about it, the more that aspect of his life seemed obsolete since the fall of Voldemort. By now it was just force of habit
Not a night goes by I don't dream of wandering Through the home that might have been And I listened to my pride When my heart cried out for you Now every day I wake again In a house that might have been A home
Harry opened his front door and stepped out onto his vast front porch. He sat down in one of the wicker chairs and rocked back and forth thinking. She had always been, and always would be the only woman he loved. He knew this with every fiber of his being; he just couldn't bring himself to admit it out loud.
Guess I did what I did believing That love is a dangerous thing Oh but that couldn't hurt anymore than never knowing
He also knew that he had been stupid to think Voldemort wouldn't know how much he loved her. They could have been together while Harry was fighting and it would have been less obvious. Their love for each other hung in the air between them, like an unrequited fog. No one could miss their feelings, even though they were never realized. She was in danger not because of Harry's presence, but because of his feelings. It didn't matter what the proximity of their bodies were, it was the proximity of their souls. Voldemort may not have understood what love was, but he did know an opportunity when he saw one. Ginny was taken the night before the final battle.
Harry had never been angrier in his life. After everything he had done to keep her protected, and she was still a target.because of him. The battle ensued, and the good side won. The fair maiden was safely returned to the Burrow, but the prince was nowhere to be found.
Not a night goes by I don't dream of wandering Through the home that might have been And I listened to my pride When my heart cried out for you Now every day I wake again In a house that might have been A home A home
He was pacing his house at night, searching for the answers he desperately needed to find for himself. He didn't think he could ever face her again. She would laugh in his face at the stupidity of his actions.
Harry rose and walked back into his house. It really was too big for just one person. It was quite empty as houses go. He saw no reason to furnish it. He walked back into the living room, his thoughts becoming entranced once again with the color of the fire.
Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows Just a place to run when my working day is through They say home is where the heart is If the exception proves the rule I guess that's true
Everything made him think of her. This house made it painfully aware that she wasn't in his life anymore.
Harry shook himself out of his reverie and slowly made his way through his house and up the stairs to his bedroom with his head hung. He couldn't help but think that had he made different choices in his life, he could be walking up to their bedroom, in their home.
Not a night goes by I don't dream of wandering Through the home that might have been And I listened to my pride When my heart cried out for you Now every day I wake again In a house that might have been A home A home
Harry Potter stood in the middle of his posh living room with his head hung, chin touching his chest. It wasn't the first time he had been in this room, wishing for something else, something more, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
The crimson light of the fire caught his eye and reminded him, once again, why he was there alone. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. He prided himself on the fact that he could protect her this way. He reasoned that even if it practically killed him, he had protected her as much as he could. He never thought about what it might have done to her.
I mistook the warnings for wisdom From so called friends quick to advise Though your touch was telling me otherwise
As he walked toward the fireplace to start his nightly roaming of his gigantic house, he thought of her. Harry Potter loved Ginny Weasley more than anyone could ever have seen. It tore at his heart to know he had turned her away. Originally, it was because the depth of his feelings scared him so much. When he got over the initial shock of his love for her, Voldemort was back into power and it scared him that she would be hurt in the crossfire. He wouldn't have been able to handle that. Five years ago, when the battles were all over, it scared him to find out that she had moved on. After Ron assured him that she hadn't, it scared him that she would never forgive him.
Somehow I saw you as a weakness I thought I had to be strong
Oh but I was just young, I was scared, I was wrong
Harry's eyes narrowed as he walked along the corridor to the front door. His pride kept him from her. He felt the need to protect her, and this was the only way to do so in his mind. Wanting to keep her safe, Potter? Please. Harry heard Malfoy's cold voice over and over in his head. He couldn't help but agree.
Ginny fascinated him. She was such his opposite. She threw caution to the wind and did what she wanted. Lived her life however she felt necessary. She followed her heart and let it lead her through life. That thought alone scared Harry more than anything, as he never did anything that wasn't precisely calculated for someone's protection, be it his or someone else that he loved. The more he thought about it, the more that aspect of his life seemed obsolete since the fall of Voldemort. By now it was just force of habit
Not a night goes by I don't dream of wandering Through the home that might have been And I listened to my pride When my heart cried out for you Now every day I wake again In a house that might have been A home
Harry opened his front door and stepped out onto his vast front porch. He sat down in one of the wicker chairs and rocked back and forth thinking. She had always been, and always would be the only woman he loved. He knew this with every fiber of his being; he just couldn't bring himself to admit it out loud.
Guess I did what I did believing That love is a dangerous thing Oh but that couldn't hurt anymore than never knowing
He also knew that he had been stupid to think Voldemort wouldn't know how much he loved her. They could have been together while Harry was fighting and it would have been less obvious. Their love for each other hung in the air between them, like an unrequited fog. No one could miss their feelings, even though they were never realized. She was in danger not because of Harry's presence, but because of his feelings. It didn't matter what the proximity of their bodies were, it was the proximity of their souls. Voldemort may not have understood what love was, but he did know an opportunity when he saw one. Ginny was taken the night before the final battle.
Harry had never been angrier in his life. After everything he had done to keep her protected, and she was still a target.because of him. The battle ensued, and the good side won. The fair maiden was safely returned to the Burrow, but the prince was nowhere to be found.
Not a night goes by I don't dream of wandering Through the home that might have been And I listened to my pride When my heart cried out for you Now every day I wake again In a house that might have been A home A home
He was pacing his house at night, searching for the answers he desperately needed to find for himself. He didn't think he could ever face her again. She would laugh in his face at the stupidity of his actions.
Harry rose and walked back into his house. It really was too big for just one person. It was quite empty as houses go. He saw no reason to furnish it. He walked back into the living room, his thoughts becoming entranced once again with the color of the fire.
Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows Just a place to run when my working day is through They say home is where the heart is If the exception proves the rule I guess that's true
Everything made him think of her. This house made it painfully aware that she wasn't in his life anymore.
Harry shook himself out of his reverie and slowly made his way through his house and up the stairs to his bedroom with his head hung. He couldn't help but think that had he made different choices in his life, he could be walking up to their bedroom, in their home.
Not a night goes by I don't dream of wandering Through the home that might have been And I listened to my pride When my heart cried out for you Now every day I wake again In a house that might have been A home A home