-1Disclaimer - I own nothing but a very cool stripy scarf. None of them are mine, however much I wish they were!
Right Where He Belongs
Harry was thinking about Ginny. It was rare his thoughts ever strayed to anything else, especially when, like now, he was lying in bed in the middle of the night. He'd given her up once in Hogwarts, because of the danger she could be in with Lord Voldemort. When Harry had defeated Voldemort everyone (by everyone, he meant Ron and Hermione) thought they'd get back together, and be as happy as Ron and Hermione were. But Harry had once again given her up for the chance to become an auror, a dream he'd since his fourth year of Hogwarts. He'd cursed whatever imp of stupidity had convinced him it was a good idea ever since. Now, two years later Harry was fully qualified, Ginny was dating other blokes, and he was resolutely single, yet too scared to ask Ginny if there was a remote possibility they could try and work things out. They were friends, and Harry was terrified that she wouldn't want him and then he'd never get to see her. The idea of living a Ginny-less life was his own personal idea of Hell.
People say that together we were two sides of the same coin
That we would shine like Venus in a clear night sky
We thought our love could overcome the circumstances
But my ambition wouldn't allow for compromise
Now, Harry lived in Grimmauld Place with Ron, while Ginny and Hermione shared a flat in London. Hermione was often in Grimmauld Place, while Ginny was often too busy. There were the times Harry knew he'd definitely see her, such as the Sunday lunch in the Burrow, an institution for the Weasley's and anyone they'd adopted into the family. But it wasn't enough for him. Hermione thought he was taking a ridiculous stance not confessing his feelings for Ginny, but what did she know? She was disgustingly happy with Ron, who, surprisingly, also thought Harry should tell Ginny how he felt. Ron wasn't happy with Ginny dating different blokes, a feeling Harry shared completely.
I could see in the distance all the dreams that were clear to me
Every choice I had to make left you on your own
Somehow the road we started down had split asunder
Too late to realise how far apart we'd grown
How I wish I, wish I'd done a little bit more
Harry groaned out loud. It was a Saturday night, and Ron and Hermione were out at the Leaky Cauldron, with Fred, George, Ginny and her latest boyfriend. Harry had been invited, but the thought of seeing Ginny with some random bloke had turned his stomach. He'd see Ginny tomorrow at lunch, which was good enough for him. Looking at the clock he realised it was only ten o'clock. He'd thought it was much later. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Damn that Ginevra Weasley.
Now shoulda coulda woulda means I'm outta time
Cause shoulda coulda woulda can't change your mind
And I wonder, wonder what I'm gonna do
Shoulda woulda coulda are the last words of a fool
He hauled himself out of bed, deciding to make himself useful and go over some papers for work. Merlin, Saturday night and the famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, was sat in doing his paperwork. Witch Weekly would never believe it, they liked to write stories linking him with loads of different witches, most of which he'd never met. He frowned thoughtfully. He liked this song. For his birthday the previous week, Hermione and Ron had bought him a muggle stereo after he'd confessed he'd never owned one, but always wanted to. Once he'd opened it he'd gone on a mad spending spree in muggle London, buying almost every CD he could get his hands on, and was slowly making his way through them. It wasn't like muggle music was completely alien to him, after all Dudley had owned a stereo for as long as Harry could remember, and liked to play it at top volume at all times, but since he was seventeen he'd lived exclusively in the wizarding world, and had lost touch with muggle trends.
People ask how it feels to live the kinda life others dream about
I tell them everybody gotta face their highs and their lows
And in my life there's a love that I put aside
Cause I was busy loving something else
So for every little thing you hold on to
You gotta let something else go
Harry's mood got slowly worse. The paperwork was a complete mess, and he could not be bothered wading through it, trying to make sense of it all. But it was either doing just that, or lying in bed thinking of Ginny, remembering every little thing she'd ever said to him. The way she smelled, the way she laughed, the way she looked exactly like Mrs. Weasley when Ron pissed her off. Everything about her was perfect. He was Harry Potter, and according to Witch Weekly every witch in the country would give her wand arm to be able to date him. But he didn't want anyone else, he wanted Ginny. Damn, damn, damn. Ron and Hermione had proved that you could have both love and a career. Hermione's was a Healer, and Ron worked as an Unspeakable. Both jobs were hard work and long hours, and yet they managed to maintain a relationship. Harry was clearly just the stupid git Ron had said he was so many times.
How I wish I, wish I'd done a little bit more
Now shoulda coulda woulda means I'm outta time
Cause shoulda coulda woulda can't change your mind
And I wonder, wonder what I'm gonna do
Shoulda woulda coulda are the last words of a fool
He could imagine Ginny with her bloke now, laughing, cracking jokes, probably at Ron's expense, Hermione trying not to laugh out of loyalty to Ron, Fred and George cracking up. It was no good, he was going to the Leaky Cauldron. He grabbed some clean clothes and tried in vain to get his hair to lie flat. Well, it'd just have to stay sticking up.
When he arrived at the pub he was surprised to see Ginny's date wasn't there. She didn't seem unhappy though, maybe he was just in the toilet, or at the bar.
"Harry!" Ron cried when he spotted him. Harry squinted; Ron was clearly feeling the effects of a few firewhiskeys.
"Hello Harry," Hermione giggled, looking slightly inebriated herself, "how'd the paperwork coming along?" Hermione was definitely drunk, there was no way she'd mix her tenses up sober. He grimaced.
"It wasn't, and I decided I could really do with a drink, so I thought I'd join you. Anyone else want a drink?" No one else did, so Harry quickly went to the bar and ordered a firewhiskey.
"Hey Gin, how'd the date go?" he asked, taking a generous slug of his whiskey. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"He had a few choice things to say about 'filthy half-breeds'," she explained, "so I set him straight about my friendship with Hagrid and Lupin, and he scarpered pretty quick."
"I don't think it helped that three of her big brothers were here and unimpressed with him either." George added thoughtfully.
"He was a real git." Fred added. The thought cheered Harry immensely. Ginny's boyfriends were never very serious or lasted very long, and there was always a relatively stupid reason for the break-ups.
"I'm sorry Gin," Harry said, not feeling very sorry at all, "I guess that's what, three this month that you've given the elbow?" he added mischievously.
"Shut up Harry!" she retorted, smiling. "Just because Witch Weekly think you can do no wrong does not mean I share their views!"
Fool if I would now forsake the opportunities of fate
I know I'm right where I belong
But sometimes when I'm not that strong
I wish I…
"S'only cause she shtill fancies you," Ron slurred, "and she'sh all annoyed that you two never got back together." Ginny flushed, and Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Really?" Harry asked. Ginny cleared her throat and looked anywhere but at Harry.
"C'mon Gin, the pub's not that interesting!" he teased.
"Just tell Harry Potter Gin, just say you lurve him, and you want to be with him forever and ever and make little ginger Harry Potters with little round glasses." Hermione gushed.
"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," Ginny laughed. "But I suppose the general sentiment is about right." Harry grinned.
"Cool."
Wish I'd done a little bit more
Now shoulda coulda woulda means I'm outta time
Cause shoulda coulda woulda can't change your mind
And I wonder, wonder what I'm gonna do
Shoulda woulda coulda are the last words of a fool
The following week's edition of Witch Weasley stated that thousands of young witches hearts had been broken by the news that Harry Potter was now madly in love with a young witch by the name of Ginevra Weasley. Let them break, Harry thought, he was right where he belonged.