Dwelling on the past, is something I'm good at, but it is a rather painful hobby. Lets concentrate on what's happened, more recently.

How this all ties in with the rest of the story, I'm not really sure. I just need something new to think about right now.

**

Chapter four

The sun was shining brightly, and the birds were singing. Harry was at the Chudley Cannon's First Quidditch game of the season. Watching from the stands was not the greatest, but watching his best friend in his first game was well worth it. Harry knew that Ron was excited about the opportunity of playing professional, but even more excited, seeing as Ron had finally been able to step out of his shadow.

Harry never asked for the life he was given, but there it was all the same. The pain of watching his Headmaster die had not faded, but seeing his friends together, and knowing that Sirius was finally free, helped quite a bit.

"Harry!" Ginny cried, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so glad you could make it. So will Ron. Gosh, isn't this just so exciting? Who would have thought my brother, Hotheaded Ron, would be the center chaser for the Chudley Cannons?" She gushed on. Harry looked to where she was leading him, and saw the rest of the Weasley's waiting for them to walk over.

"Harry! You made it! Ron wasn't sure if you'd be here or not..." Fred was drowned out by George, who was drowned out by Bill, who was drown out by Charlie, who was drown out by their mother.

"Harry! Good to see you! How have you been holding up dear?" She asked, grabbing his arm. "You just come and sit right here, that's it. So, What have you been up to, my boy?"

"Nothing really. Waiting to see if my book is gonna be published or not." Harry replied, shrugging.

"What this book about? An autobiography?" Charlie asked, leaning down between his mother and Harry.

"No, actually it is a novel about a Muggle in a Wizard's world, and how he manages to cope with out using magic. Not a best seller, but it's honest and truthful, if nothing else." He explained.

"Oh, look! They're up!" Ginny yelled, pointing at the field.

He turned his attention to the air, as he waited for his friend to show up. Finally, Ron was spotted, and waved hastily to his family, before turning his attention to the game.

20 minutes in, The cannons were behind by 20 points, the score being 50 to 30. Ron was a great chaser, Harry thought as he ducked an oncoming bludger and scored, lowering the deficit by another 10 points.

An hour later, the Golden Snitch had been spotted four times, Harry, accidentally catching it once.

"It was flying right by my ear. What was I supposed to do? Let it go?" He explained poorly. Ron glared at him, before flashing him a huge smile and flew on.

"It seems this game could go on forever, though not as long as the last one. What is the new record again? 5 months, 3 days and 14 hours? Sometimes I wonder why I even bother," a familiar voice sounded over the microphone. Harry grinned at Lee Jordan's voice. It was one he hadn't heard in a while.

"It looks like Cho has seen the Snitch again! Yes, there she goes, Krum on her tail... yes, Yes YES!!! Cho Chang catches the snitch! Chudley Cannons wins the first game of the season!" Lee's voice boomed through the speakers set up.

All the Weasley's, Harry included bounded down to the field where the players landed. All of the red headed family went straight towards Ron, Yelling their congratulations and joy.

"Good job there, Ron," Harry said, giving his friend a congratulatory hug.

"Thanks," Ron replied, and flashed him a huge grin. "Party at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" He yelled to the crowd, moving on, excepting more praise from his family.

That night, the store had been turned into a club of sorts. All of the aisles of candy and toys we're transfigured into tables and a great music set up.

The music was bumping, and Harry made his way around the crowds, saying hi to old friends, meeting new people.

He didn't usually drink, but this was a special occasion, so he was doing his best to get shit-faced. As he made his way to the bathroom, he paused and leaned against the wall.

"Harry potter, I do believe you've succeeded in your quest," he mumbled to himself, then tried to move on. "One foor then the oder," he slurred. He found for some reason, he feet wouldn't move properly, and his legs refused to hold him up. "Comfy foolr. Nice and petty too," Harry garbled on.

"What are you doing down there, potter?" A voice from way up high spoke. Harry felt like the voice had shaken the rafters.

"You have to be quieter," he whispered loudly. "Itz not good for you to yell inside," Harry explained.

"Sorry, sorry," the voice said at the same level. "What are you doing down there? Isn't it cold?"

"Lonely."

"Lonely? You're plastered. Come on," the body that the voice was in, leaned down and started picking him up.

"I can up get my self, fank you terry much," Harry spoke. As he stood up, he took in the appearance of the Voice.

Blonde hair split down the middle, big gray eyes staring back at Harry. "You look like an angel," Harry whispered. "Like god sent you to save me from my horrible wrenched self."

"You can barely think straight, " the voice stated. "Where do you live? I'll take you home."

"I don't need to go home!" Harry shouted, causing some people to look up at him, "I need, another shot of um... beerbutter, and..." He slummed against the wall. Harry was out.

"Yup, you need butterbeer, like I need a woman."

**

Ok, I'm really embarrassed now. Maybe I shouldn't have shared this whole part with you. Like I said, I'm not even sure how itz supposed to fit in.

Maybe the gray-eyed beauty that saved my life will be there when I find out my parents are still alive. Or maybe, he'll ruin me, and this story will really just be the longer part of a Dear John.

I'm not sure. Not yet. After all, this is 11 years after the diary had been written.

We'll see.

**

Draco watched, as one green eye looked up at him. Then the other.

Harry was waking up.

Green eyes blinked at him very quickly, trying to focus. Harry didn't have on any glasses when Draco found him; so he assumed he'd either gotten his eyes fixed, or were wearing contacts.

I'd be just like Potter to do the Muggle thing, and put in contacts, Draco thought wryly.

"You awake yet, Potter?" He asked, quietly.

"Huhmn?" He moaned and closed his eyes. "What did you do to me, Malfoy?"

"I didn't do anything, Harry. You got shit-faced last night, and I brought you back to my place. I don't think the Weasley's would appreciate you puking all over the Canary Creams."

"I didn't do anything foolish last night did I?" Harry asked, trying to pull himself up. "Ohh, gawd my head hurts."

"No, not really. I got you out of there before hand. You passed out." Draco replied.

"Go me."

Draco grinned. "Would you like some coffee, maybe a hangover relief charm?" He supplied.

"The latter, then the former, if you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all."

"Thanks," Harry professed.