Anticipate the Expected,

Do the Unexpected

AN: Well, I don't own HP. And this fic takes place after the final book, voiding the epilogue. JKR put that in just to make us fanfic authors work harder at our summaries.

That's all I can tell you for certain.

Now to the story:

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Once upon a time…

Once upon a day…

Once looking at a boy…

Once upon this boy's shoulders…

The world sat.

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Once upon a time, there was a boy who held the world on his pathetically scrawny shoulders. He was starved for food and positive attention.

And he wasn't allowed to resent having the world on his shoulders, because his parents put it there by dying when he lived.

He wasn't considered all that clever by his teachers because self-preservation had taught him long before he understood the concept of college and advantages in the 'Real World,' that if he was better, at anything, than his cousin, he would be punished.

And he wasn't allowed to resent forfeiting his advantage because his aunt and uncle took him in when they wanted to drown him instead.

He was thrust into the limelight and a new world all at once, and people expected him to be perfect so that they could trust that good forever defeats evil, and there is something to strive for, and it is tangible.

And he wasn't allowed to resent the limelight, or the people, because otherwise what was the purpose of living, and struggling, for the rest of the world?

He was to grow up and marry a red-headed fiery woman, like his mother, to insure that the people continued to believe in fairy-tail endings and ideal couples, and soul mates, and the continued cycle of life.

And he wasn't allowed to resent having this woman as a wife, because he was to be his father all over again.

He had to risk his life over and over again to save those who would scorn him the next day. He had to smile for the cameras when they caught up with him, and hold his tongue in front of reporters out for any story to make a buck.

And he wasn't allowed to resent his puppet-actions because otherwise evil might prevail in his enemy or himself.

He defeated the most prominent Dark Lord in recent history and had to take up the mantle of Auror for the rest of his life and follow the play that an old and powerful and manipulative and dead wizard had set up after his parents died.

And he wasn't allowed to resent the decisions of this old and senile wizard because he was the greatest leader of the light since Merlin himself.



Harry sat in the Ron's childhood room (now a guest room), waiting for his cue to walk down the aisle (which should be within the quarter hour) to accept Ginerva Molly Weasley as his wife. He didn't want to. He had spent the last half an hour thinking over his life and realized that he hadn't made a decision for himself since he decided that he didn't want mashed peas and threw them in Padfoot's face at age 14 months.

He didn't want Ginny. She was beautiful, kind, strong, and courageous. But he didn't want her. He didn't love her. At least, not like how he thought a man should love his wife. He only thought that was what was supposed to happen. He had liked Cho. He had even liked Luna, in her own odd, colorful way. But he didn't even like Ginny like he liked those two. Hell, he had liked Fleur more than he liked Ginny. His emotional response to Ginny was nearly identical to his emotional reaction to Ron.

He gagged.

He was marrying his sister because she had a vague resemblance to his mother.

He vomited into a potted plant.

He was sick.

This wasn't just some Oedipus action. This was worse. He was marrying his sister because she looked like his mother. It was like the Oedipus disease thing squared… no, cubed, because he realized before he had kids with Ginny what was going on.

Hermione came bustling into the room and wrinkled her nose. She noticed the pile of sick in the potted plant and waved her wand to vanish it. "Honestly Harry. You're hung over on your wedding day? Ron should have stopped you from drinking so much at your Bachelor's party last night."

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked hoarsely. He had to tell Ron to tell Mrs. Weasley to call off the wedding. He had been confined to Ron's room so he couldn't accidently see Ginny before the wedding, and Ginny wanted to be a part of making sure the day was perfect.

"He's off trying to convince Mrs. Weasley that the flowers are perfect and she doesn't need to bother the caterers any longer, and trying to convince Ginny that her dress is beautiful, and her hair is perfect, and he's trying to keep George from detonating the fireworks he hid on the chairs, you know, stuff his older brothers should help with," Hermione snorted. "I just hope they aren't like this when Ron gets married."

Harry looked up at her, "Could you tell Mrs. Weasley to call off the wedding then?"

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Call off the wedding? Oh, Harry. You just have cold feet. It's completely normal."

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No. I'm not in love with Ginny. At all." He gagged again. "I'm sick, Hermione. I'm marrying my sister because she looks like my mum."

"Ginny isn't you sister," Hermione pointed out. "Although I suppose she has a superficial likeness to your mother. But anyway, I'm positive it's just cold-feet, Harry. Remember Remus's case? He wouldn't marry Tonks for a year!"

Harry shook his head again. "He didn't want to marry Tonks because of his lycanthropy! Not because he didn't love her. I don't love Ginny like he did Tonks. I think I'm more attracted to Bill than Ginny, to be honest!"

"You're gay?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted. "You and Ginny aren't going to turn into Will and Grace are you?"

"No! I'm not gay!" Harry nearly shouted. "I like boobs! A lot!"

"But you just said you're more attracted to Bill…"



"Forget that comparison! Not gay! I like boobs!" Harry groaned. Why did he have to have his revelation now?

Hermione sat down in a chair across from Harry. "Then what's going on? I'm completely baffled, and I'm pretty certain that I didn't get hit by a Confundus curse."

"When was the last time I did something that wasn't expected of me that I had control over?" Harry demanded.

"What does this have to do with you not loving Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"Just answer my question," Harry scowled and looked at his watch. "We don't have much time."

"I guess it would have to be…" Hermione paused. "I'm sorry to say this, Harry, but you're very predictable. The last thing I can think of is going to a Slug Club party with Luna as your date. You were against Slughorn fiercely until that point."

"I did it basically on Dumbledore's orders to find out what he knew about Tom Riddle when he was a kid," Harry muttered. He shook his head, "Anyway, what this points out is that I've always done what's expected of me. I was expected to defeat Voldemort, and I did, thank Merlin. But I was also always expected to fight evil for the rest of my life and follow in my father's footsteps. I was expected to marry Ginny so I asked her out and dated her. Now in a few minutes she thinks she's going to walk down the aisle and become Mrs. Potter. But I'm not in love with her. I feel love for her, but it's the same way I feel about Ron, Mione! I'm marrying my sister!"

Hermione groaned. "Why now? And why do I have to tell Mrs. Weasley?"

"I just realized it myself," Harry sighed. "And you can at least lure Mrs. Weasley to some place quiet to break the news to her so it won't be too bad. But I can't go through with this wedding. It wouldn't be fair to Ginny or me."

"Damn it, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed and blew a strand of hair out of her face. "How do you get into these messes?"

"I don't know, this is the first time I'm doing something that's not expected of me," Harry shrugged.

"Hell of a way to begin," Hermione stood up. "I'll go tell Mrs. Weasley, you start putting up silencing charms for when she and Ginny come up to yell at you. I'll tell George to set off the fireworks and put the whole thing off as a publicity stunt for Wheezes."

Harry hugged her. "Thanks, Mione. You're great."

"If Mrs. Weasley kills the messenger, I want Hellebore on my grave," Hermione replied and left the room.

A few minutes later, Harry heard two people coming up the stairs and fireworks going off outside. He sighed and hid his face. This was not going to be pretty.

AN:

To be continued?

I think I might continue this one shot. It's shaping up to have much more of a plotline than I expected.

Please note that if it is to be continued I have no idea of when it may be updated, or at the moment, if there will be pairings, if someone will die, if it will be rated M, or what not. I move and start a new job on Monday so give me time.

Review?