Chapter 3- Memories and Meetings

Normally, a twenty-second birthday is fun. Normally, all birthdays are fun, but when a broken heart has destroyed your spirit and left you with no one to turn to, your twenty-second birthday, like the rest of them, is miserable.

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me… who says that it's happy? Happy birthday to me."

A woman's voice could be heard muttering bitterly as she drew her cloak tighter around herself. It was unusually cold for August, and the skies were threatening rain. Sure enough, the water began pouring form the sky and she cursed, pulling her hood up to shield her flaming red hair from the icy liquid.

"Some birthday this is turning out to be."

She opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron and looked around, for once it wasn't full.

"Good afternoon Miss Weasley. I assume you're just passing through?"

Ginny shook her head.

"For once, I'm not. Could I have a Butterbeer?"

She was handed one.

"Rough day?"

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"It's my birthday."

There was no reply, as another customer had just entered and the bartender had hurried off to ask what they wanted. Ginny looked around and sighed as she sipped her drink. Everywhere she turned there was a painful memory, even in Diagon Alley.

"Damn you Potter."

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Memories, they were everywhere. All of them were painful, especially the happy ones. Memories of his late teen years, memories of the girl that he'd left five years previously. The smallest thing could spark a memory. A book represented Hermione studying late into the night. Maroon seemed to symbolize Ron, as did the position of Keeper on a quidditch team. Fire, roses, long hair, every woman he passed was a very painful reminder of Ginny. She had been so strong willed, so passionate, independent…

"Damn it Ginny."

She had been right; he couldn't escape his past, because it was everywhere. He cursed as it began to rain and hurried along, passing Fred and George's shop. He never went in there, for fear they'd mention seeing him to Ginny.

He entered the Leaky Cauldron, trying to push Ginny out of his mind. Today was her birthday… He looked over at the bar, where a young woman was sipping a Butterbeer. He sat next to her, not looking or paying attention to her. He couldn't see her anyway, she had her hood up.

"Oh my! Hello Mr. Potter! Could I interest you in something to drink?"

The barmaid had quickly become flustered at his arrival and he merely nodded.

"Butterbeer Please."

Next to him, Ginny had frozen. He was there. He was next to her. Had he thought about her at all over the past five years? Did he still care? Did he still love her? She knew how to find out.

With a low sigh she sat her Butterbeer down and lowered her hood, shaking her hair out over her shoulders.