To Love or Not to Love

The Burrow was much the same as Harry remembered it being back in 1997, though with no wedding to prepare for, it was not nearly as busy. As usual, Mrs Weasley was waiting on her guests hand and foot, clearly delighted to have people to cook for now that all of her children had left home.

"The house has been so quiet recently, it's nice to have you all over again," she commented, as she placed a large pot of warm pumpkin soup on the table and began to ladle it out into bowls for her guests.

As Mrs Weasley handed Harry a bowl, he began to eat it hungrily, ravenous as he realised that he had not eaten at all since before the match. As he ate, he became aware of the brown-haired girl, whom he had learned from Ron was his fiancé, gazing at him, her head leaning on her hand as she sipped a mug of coffee, a smile on her face.

"What?" Harry asked, turning to her, still not used to the idea of having a fiancé.

"I still can't believe that you are mine for eternity," she said, her English perfect and her accent almost as good.

Losing himself, Harry spat out the soup that was in his mouth, attracting stares from others around the table, including the brunette.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "It's really hot."

When the others had gone back to their own conversations, the girl began to stroke Harry's arm. Remembering what Dumbledore had told him about not letting anyone know that he had changed, Harry attempted to ignore it, to pretend that he was used to it and that he was enjoying it. However, the fact was, he was not enjoying it, especially since he felt he did not even know this woman, despite the fact that she was supposed to be his fiancé. Once again, he turned to his freckled friend for help and was not let down.

"Uh - Amelie," Ron said to the girl suddenly, "would you give me some Quidditch tips? I'm - uh - thinking of trying out for the Wasps."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his fiancé - Amelie - wandered over to Ron. He was going to have to work out some sort of strategy for dealing with her, something that wouldn't change the future but would mean that Harry would not have to pretend to have feelings for her. If they were really in love, she would surely see through him soon enough anyway.

He looked around, wondering who it would be safe to talk to in this future that he knew so little about. Spotting Ginny in the living room, he wandered over and placed himself next to her. He wanted to find out as much about their past together as he could - if he could avoid it happening again, he would.

"Hey," he said as she turned to see who had come to sit with her.

Ginny, however, was not as pleased of the company as Harry. "What do you want?" she snapped, glaring at him, turning back to face the children who were playing contentedly with each other.

"Just to talk," Harry replied, unperturbed by Ginny's hostility.

Ginny sighed. "If this is about Molly, we've discussed this," she said quietly but just as angrily. "She stays with me and Dean. We agreed that it would be best for her, so she can have a proper family."

Harry was about to ask Ginny exactly what it was she was talking about, when he remembered as clearly as though he were watching it in a Pensieve, the events that had taken place less than five years ago and the events leading up to it, in a flash of memories.

*

It had all started at the end of what would have been his seventh year at Hogwarts. The search for the horcruxes had stopped after Hermione's death; Ron and Harry had both been far too distraught to continue. Hermione's death had also resulted in the closure of Hogwarts, much to the disappointment of Harry and Ron, who had done everything they could to keep it open, insisting that Hermione would not have wanted her death to cause the closure of the school; if anything, she would want more people to return there. However, the governors refused to listen and insisted that the school would close once Hermione's funeral was over.

Hermione's funeral was a sad day at Hogwarts. By now most students knew who she was because, earlier on in the year, she had appeared in front of the Board of Governors in a bid to get some kind of home tutoring service offered by the Hogwarts staff, since so many students were too afraid to return to school. The governors had finally decided that such a system could be offered, but it was up to the teacher in charge of the subject as to whether or not they wanted to offer their services in this way. She herself had enrolled in the programme and signed up for as many courses as possible. Harry smiled to himself as he reflected that Hermione would be pleased to be remembered in this way.

The funeral was to take place in the Great Hall and, as was usual for the end of term, there were banners hanging from the ceiling, but instead of them being decked in the colour of the winning house, they were a depressing black, and instead of four house tables, there were rows of chairs, with a podium at the front for speakers.

Walking into the hall with Ron at his side, Harry barely managed to make it to his seat. How could it be that Hermione was dead? She was such a brilliant witch; how could he and Ron outlive her?

As he sat down, he noticed Ginny walk in, her flaming red hair brightening up the dark hall. But her face was sad, sadder than Harry had ever seen it. Tears dripped from her face as she found Harry and Ron. Sitting between them, she did not say a word to either; she simply sat down, her face in her hands. Harry knew how much she blamed herself for Hermione's death, and, unfortunately, knew the feeling well.

Things had not been brilliant between him and Ginny recently. Ever since they had broken up, they had had to tiptoe around each other, until eventually they got sick of it and started arguing. Since Hermione's death, however, the pair had been forced to address their feelings for each other, and with Harry giving up on the search for horcruxes, they felt they would now be able to have a proper, full-time relationship. However, they both blamed themselves for Hermione's death, which seemed to make the relationship quite hard. Yet they had not been together for long, and Harry supposed things would get better as their relationship went on.

Now, seeing Ginny's tears, Harry pulled her to him and put his arm around her, holding her the way he wished he could have done at Dumbledore's funeral a year ago. Grateful for the comfort Harry showed her, Ginny placed her head on his shoulder.

Harry watched as people entered the hall: the remaining students, sad and scared; former students who knew Hermione and had decided to come back for the funeral, including many former D.A. members; the Order members, including every other member of the Weasley family; would-be Seventh Years who had known Hermione, most of whom were Gryffindors; Hogwarts staff; members of the Ministry of Magic and, Harry saw sadly, Hermione's parents. He suddenly realised how awful it must be for them; not only had they lost their only child, but they would also have to explain her death to relatives who did not - and could not - know about magic and the circumstances of Hermione's death.

Finally, once all the seats were filled, Professor McGonagall, as Head of Hogwarts, walked up to the podium, a handkerchief in her hands, which she used to dab at her eyes, and began to speak.

"It is unfortunate circumstances that cause us all to gather here today," she began, attempting to keep her voice steady. "Just two weeks ago, Lord Voldemort struck again." She spoke the name bravely, though it was greeted with shudders, winces and muttering. "Hermione Granger was an intelligent witch and had been attempting to bring about the downfall of Voldemort. She was a very responsible young woman, yet she had high moral standards and showed bravery that so few have shown." She paused once again so that she could dab her eyes as her tears started to fall faster. "She will go down in Hogwarts history as being one of the most gifted students we have ever had."

At this, Ron began to clap. At first, he was the only one to do so, but as he clapped, others began to join in, until the room was bursting with the applause of people who agreed with what Professor McGonagall had said. Harry understood why Ron had done this; he wanted Hermione to be remembered in a way that she would have liked, and she would have undoubtedly loved to have known that she would go down as one of the most gifted Hogwarts students ever.

Once the clapping stopped, McGonagall sat down and Ron stood up, ready for his turn to speak. Harry gave him an encouraging smile as he stood, and watched as his best friend approached the podium, ready to speak. He seemed to be shaking slightly, his pale hands clutched around the piece of parchment he had written his speech on.

"Hermione was a beautiful, talented young woman," he began and Harry remembered that he and Ginny had spent hours helping Ron to write it. "I had the privilege to be closer to Hermione than many, and I experienced what an amazing person she was.

"Hermione was, as Professor McGonagall said, a very responsible person. She was eager to take on responsibilities, such as her Prefect duties, and was even given the chance to be Head Girl this year, though for personal reasons she was not able to take on the title that she so dearly wanted."

As Ron spoke, Harry recalled Hermione's reaction last summer - the last summer of her life - when she had received an owl from Hogwarts informing her that she had been made Head Girl. Despite her many talents, Hermione still remained modestly surprised that she had been given such a responsible role. It was at that moment, Harry thought, that Hermione had realised how much her hard-work was valued. Harry had watched tears fill her eyes as she had read and re-read the letter. To Hermione, it was a sign of acceptance. She had never got on with the other Gryffindor girls of her age, and though she got on well with Harry and Ron, theyteased her about her hard-work and responsible attitude and they were not as enthusiastic as her. Now, however, it had been made explicitly clear to her that she was valued by the school, if not by anyone else. It was a dream come true.

And yet she had turned it down.

The 'personal reasons' that Ron had mentioned were of course that she had decided to help Harry on his search for the horcruxes. Harry had of course made it clear to her when she had received the owl from Hogwarts notifying her of position that she was not obligated to come with him - neither of them were. She could still go back to Hogwarts and become Head Girl - he knew how much it meant to her and would never ask her to sacrifice that for him. But Hermione being the loyal friend she was had refused adamantly to go back to Hogwarts - she wanted to help Harry and that was the end of it. So she had sent an owl to Hogwarts in reply informing them that she would, unfortunately, have to decline the offer, though she was very grateful of the opportunity they had given her.

You could always count on Hermione, Harry recalled. She was always there for you. Admittedly he and Ron had had many fallings out with her, but they all seemed so petty and childish now. Despite the arguments, though, she had never turned her back on either of them.

"Being the responsible person she was," Ron was saying, and Harry got the impression that he was concentrating hard on the parchment so as not to let out the emotions he was feeling, "Hermione approached her education with enthusiasm and an eagerness to learn that few could rival. She always did her work to the highest standard, and encouraged those around her to work just as hard. In fact, many joked that she should have been placed in Ravenclaw."

He paused at this point, giving time for those knew Hermione well to reflect on this comment, some even laughing, for it gave them fond memories.

"She put these talents and this passion to good use. In our fifth year, she helped set up a club known as Dumbledore's Army, where she, among others, learned many defensive spells in order to be prepared in the war against You-Know-Who. Using all she had learned, she helped to fight You-Know-Who's Death Eaters later in our fifth year and again last year and I'm sure that if she were alive today, we would have found out how to bring down You-Know-Who.

"Hermione was also a very caring and kind person. She never failed to show love to those who needed it, whether it was other students or House Elves. I'm sure many of us will never forget how Hermione, upon seeing how disgracefully she felt House Elves were treated, set up S.P.E.W - the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. If Hermione thought something was unjust, she would try her best to stop it.

"But most of all, I will always remember Hermione as my best friend. Admittedly, Hermione and I had our disagreements, as all friends do, and I hurt her more than I'd like to remember."

Ron gulped at this, and Harry thought he knew what he was remembering: last year, in their sixth year, Ron had taken up with Lavender after believing that Hermione had kissed Viktor Krum. Harry remembered that Hermione had had no idea why Ron had suddenly become angry with her, just as things were going well. He knew how much Ron now hated himself for that.

"Then again, we had some really great times," Ron continued, getting his voice back. "Hermione was a good friend to have: she was always ready to listen when someone had a problem, always eager to help them sort it out, she was always there for us; she helped us with our homework, she even bought us homework planners in an effort to make us work a little harder."

As Ron recounted the many memories of Hermione, Harry suddenly found that he was no longer able to hold back the tears that he had tried so hard to keep inside. He couldn't believe that Hermione was gone - it was just so hard to believe. Never again would he catch her knitting hats for House Elves, or worrying about an essay that was several inches of parchment too long; never again would they sit in History of Magic, Harry and Ron copying off Hermione so that they did not have to listen to Professor Binns droning on; never again would he catch her blushing at something Ron had said, or allowing herself to be wrapped in Ron's arms. Never again.

Feeling the hot tears slide down his face, Harry found that a warm hand was suddenly in his. Ginny, sensing Harry's pain, was still sitting with his arm around her and had taken hold of Harry's other hand, caressing it gently. The rhythmic movement seemed to settle him somewhat and he kissed her cheek gently. He hoped to God that he would never lose her. He had lost his parents, his godfather, his mentor and now his best friend. Please, he thought, don't ever take Ginny away from me.

*

Harry next witnessed a memory that took place just a few months after Hermione's death. He was preparing for an interview that morning at Auror Headquarters having applied for their training program. He was eating breakfast at the Burrow, (Mr and Mrs Weasley had adamantly refused to let him live anywhere else; they said that he was as good as family anyway, and they wanted to keep an eye on him while Voldemort was still out there.) going over what he was going to say in his head.

"Want some help?"

Harry looked up and smiled as Ginny walked in, kissing his cheek as she walked past. She was still in her pyjamas, which consisted of a white strappy top and some pink pyjama bottoms, and her red hair was tied back to keep her neck cool. Harry thought she looked beautiful, despite having just woken up. But then, Harry always thought she looked beautiful.

"That would be brilliant," he said gratefully.

Ginny grinned back. "Well, since I'm the one who forced you into getting a job in the first place, I figured I should help you out," she said, settling herself in a seat across from Harry. "So, Mr Potter, why do you want to become an Auror?" she asked, putting on a low voice that sent them both into hysterics.

Finally calming down enough to answer, Harry said, "Ever since I found out that my parents were murdered by Voldemort, I've hated dark wizards. I loathe them and all they stand for and I want to do everything I can to put a stop to it."

Ginny nodded, putting on a thoughtful face as she pretended to be a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "Okay, but why should we hire you?" she continued, still using the deep voice.

Harry attempted to look serious, although he found Ginny very amusing. "Well, I think that I've proved that I can fight dark wizards," he replied. "Obviously everyone knows that when I was one, Voldemort was unable to kill me, but I don't pretend that that was due to any skill on my part. But I did face Voldemort again at eleven, and one of his Death Eaters, and I had to get through a number of magical obstacles before I could fight them in the first place. Then I fought Voldemort again at twelve, though this time it was a memory of him, but I managed to destroy the memory and kill a Basilisk. Then, at fourteen, I not only won the Triwizard Tournament, but I also duelled with Voldemort and survived. I then faced more of his Death Eaters at fifteen, here in the Ministry of Magic and was even possessed by Voldemort, but was able to resist him. Then, last year, I fought a number of Death Eaters again at Hogwarts."

"Fine, fine," Ginny said, pretending to make notes with an imaginary quill on an imaginary piece of parchment. "But what can you bring to this job that no one else can?"

"Well, other than my experience fighting dark wizards, I can speak Parseltongue, I can fight the Imperius Curse and, as I have already said, I can't be possessed."

Mr Weasley walked into the room at that moment and smiled at Harry. "Come on then, Harry, we'd best be off," he said. "You'll be fine, don't worry about it."

Harry attempted a smile before bidding Ginny goodbye and apparating to the Ministry of Magic with Mr Weasley. Unfortunately, he was unwillingly reminded of the last time he had come here with Mr Weasley, when he had had a Hearing in front of the Wizengamot Court. Just like last time, he had to go to the security wizard and follow the procedures all visitors had to follow. This routine made him a little nervous, hoping that today would not go as badly as the last time he had visited the Ministry legally - or indeed illegally.

Finally they left the security wizard and entered the lift, where Mr Weasley cheerfully greeted the wizards already inside. However, Harry found he was far too nervous to concentrate on their conversation and instead practiced his interview in his head. All too soon, he heard the cool voice announce that they had arrived at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Like last time, Mr Weasley led Harry down a corridor and into Auror Headquarters.

"Let me just find Aldous," Mr Weasley said, leaving Harry standing nervously in the middle of Auror Headquarters.

Auror Headquarters was much as it had been last time: there were the same booths with people busily working inside them and pictures of wanted wizards lined the walls. This time, however, there were no pictures of Sirius included in this line-up.

"Scared?"

Harry jumped. His heart beating fast from the fright, Harry turned to see a grinning young woman with purple spiky hair, whom he recognised to be Tonks.

"No thanks to you," Harry replied, and Tonks grinned.

"You'll be fine, don't worry," Tonks assured him with a wave of her hand. "Seriously Aldous is a really good bloke and he knows who you are and the experience you've had fighting dark wizards, so I'd say you've got it in the bag." She grinned at him good-naturedly. "Hey, let me show you my booth," she said excitedly, and beckoned Harry to follow her to one of the nearby green booths, which she had decorated with a picture of Lupin, a picture of the Order members and a smiling, waving couple who seemed to be her parents. "You could have one just like this," she said. She picked up a fluffy pink quill and handed it to Harry with a grin. "Hey, if you get the job, I'll give you my quill."

Harry laughed and was grateful for Tonks making him feel at ease. "Thanks, Tonks, I'll remember that," he replied, before Mr Weasley returned with an old-looking wizard who sported several scars, presumably from battles, wearing dark green robes and looking quite reproachful.

"Harry, this is Aldous Henry, Head of the Auror Office," Mr Weasley said. He smiled cheerfully at Harry. "Well, good luck! Come and find me when you've finished."

Harry nodded and attempted a smile back, though he did not feel like smiling. Henry looked like quite a critical wizard, one who would find faults in him easily, and Harry did not look forward to the interview at all. He hoped that none of the many enemies he had made in the Ministry, such as Fudge, Umbridge or even the Minister for Magic himself, Scrimgeour, had put in a bad word.

"Right, Mr Potter, if you would like to follow me," Henry growled.

Obediently, Harry followed Henry into a small office not far from Tonks' cubicle. It was quite a cramped office, with just a table and two chairs, and since there were no windows, it was quite dark. Harry guessed that this was some kind of official interview room, and decided it was meant to intimidate applicants. Determined not to be scared so easily, Harry forced himself to get used to the dark room and sat down in the chair Henry pointed to.

"So," Henry said finally, looking at a piece of parchment that Harry recognised to be his application form, "I see that you have fought many dark wizards over the past few years."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I -" he began.

However, before he could say anymore, Henry cut him off. "Well I must inform you now, Mr Potter, that your history will not get you anywhere at the Ministry of Magic - not in this department anyway. If you are chosen to join the training program, you will be chosen because of skills and qualifications and not because of fame. Is that understood?" he asked, staring at Harry with a look that could have rivalled any Snape had ever given him.

"Yes, but I -" Harry tried, but once again found Henry cutting him off.

"As long as we're understood then," he said with a nasty smile. "So, Mr Potter, what brings you to the Ministry of Magic? Why do you feel you want to work for the wizarding government?"

"Because I want to help," Harry said immediately. "I want to make a difference, to stop dark wizards -"

Henry, however, shook his head. "No, Mr Potter, you misunderstand," he said. "Clearly intelligence and fame do not mix." He sighed and asked his question once more, but this time his tone of voice was one that might be used to explain that two plus two equals four, and Harry was not in the mood to be patronised.

Attempting to calm himself down, Harry brought his mind to the book he was reading on defensive magic and recited in his head everything it said about the use of shield charms.

"I would like to work for the Ministry of Magic," he tried again once he had calmed down, "because I understand that the wizarding world needs a government, I -"

Henry, however, did not seem to want to let Harry finish a sentence, for once again he interrupted. "Yes, Mr Potter, a House Elf could probably tell me as much." He sighed impatiently. "Fine, I can see we're getting nowhere with that question. So let me ask you why you feel so qualified for this job?"

Once again, Harry found himself trying to control his temper. "I have a history fighting dark wizards," Harry started, but, predictably, he was stopped mid-sentence.

"That's very nice, Mr Potter, but I did tell you at the start that your history will get you nowhere here," Henry said icily. "Now, answer me this: you claim to have spent much of your life fighting dark wizards, but how many have you killed, Mr Potter? How many have you got rid of?"

"I haven't killed any, but I helped secure the capture of a load of Death Eaters here a couple of years ago," Harry tried.

Henry shook his head. "Now that won't do, Mr Potter, taking credit for other people's work. It was Dumbledore, I believe, that secured the capture of those Death Eaters. So, Mr Potter, you are not as experienced as you might think. And what qualifications do you have?"

"Well, I have OWLs in -" Harry began, but Henry waved his hand as though this meant nothing to him.

"Why should we be interested in OWLs?" he asked. "It is NEWTs that I want to know about."

Harry gulped. He had been afraid of this. The horrible truth was in fact that he did not have any NEWTs. He, Ron and Hermione had not attended Hogwarts in their seventh year, and though Hermione had completed a home-course in several NEWT subjects, she had not been able to convince Ron and Harry to do the same - both had insisted that they would be too busy researching horcruxes to do any proper work. How Harry regretted it now.

"Well, I don't have any," he confessed.

Henry almost laughed. "You don't have any NEWTs? And you expect to get a job as an Auror?" He shook his head, smiling incredulously. "Well, Mr Potter, if you don't have any NEWTs, I think we can safely say that you are not right for the job."

Harry sighed, beginning to lose his patience. "Look, Mr Henry, there is a good reason why I don't have any NEWTs. Hogwarts closed half-way through the year - I would be there now otherwise," he protested. "My best friend died, so they closed the school."

But Henry wasn't interested. "Mr Potter, I do not have time to listen to sob-stories, especially since according to my notes you left Hogwarts of your own accord at the end of your sixth year. I have other people to interview who will not waste my time, people with qualifications and experience."

Finally, Harry lost control. "I am not a time waster!" he said angrily. "If you would listen to anything I said without cutting me off, then maybe you would see that! How many people will you interview today that have not only fought Death Eaters and survived but fought Voldemort himself? Why is it that you're so willing to listen to all the hype about me, yet you're not listening to the one thing they've said that's true! If you read the Prophet you would know that I'm the Chosen One, the only one who can bring Voldemort down! That's why I finished Hogwarts after my sixth year, so that I could help stop Voldemort!"

Henry, however, seemed to have finally lost his own patience, for he glared nastily at Harry. "My, my, Mr Potter, you have shown your true colours. I can see that Dolores was right; you have a nasty temper. I must say, though, you have put your finger on the problem. You are so well known and have such a personal history with He Who Must Not Be Named and his Death Eaters that it may well cause a few problems. Indeed, it seems to have fully inflated your head if you truly believe yourself to be the Chosen One. And tell me this, Mr Potter. If hundreds of trained Aurors have not been able to kill He Who Must Not Be Named, what makes you think that you, a mere teenager, could?"

Henry almost laughed and Harry glowered at him hatefully. How dare he! Why would he not listen to anything Harry had to say? It was just like being in Umbridge's Defence lessons all over again. Well, he had proved her wrong and he would prove Henry wrong too.

"Because you lot have been too busy sitting on your asses pretending that the wizarding world isn't in danger and trying to save the precious reputation of the Ministry instead of actually trying to stop Voldemort!" Harry retorted angrily. "Anyway, you couldn't destroy Voldemort even if you found him because you refused to listen to Dumbledore and now you've refused to listen to me, so you'll never know how it is that Voldemort survived after he attacked me when I was one, how it is that he is still alive! If you weren't so bloody arrogant, you might have learnt to listen to the people who actually know what they're talking about!"

Harry stood up at this, ready to leave the room. However, despite his departure, he did not fail to hear Henry's last comment.

"You are a rude, insolent little boy, Mr Potter, and if you do not leave this building now I will have you forcibly removed! And mark my words boy; you will never set foot in the Ministry of Magic again for as long as I live!"

Harry, however, was far too angry to care and ran the distance to the lift, ignoring the Aurors staring at him, and did not allow himself to reflect on what had just happened until he was back at the Burrow.

Seeing Harry's face as he stormed into the Burrow, Ginny and Mrs Weasley exchanged a worried glance, and Ron asked what the matter was, but Harry was not in the mood to reply. Instead he stormed his way up to his bedroom, the room that had formerly been Fred and George's, and collapsed on his bed, salty tears stinging his mouth.

How could Henry do that to him? How could someone get away with being so rude and so ignorant? It wasn't fair. It had been Harry's dream to be an Auror and now it would never happen. It was ruined forever. The only subject that he'd really been good at at Hogwarts was Defence and now his dream of using his favourite subject for a living was shattered.

There was a knock on the door, but Harry ignored it. He was not sure he felt like company, sure that he would be told that he was in the wrong for losing his temper. It was at times like this that Harry wished he had a mother; wished that he had a parent he could talk to, who would make him feel better. Mrs Weasley was very kind to Harry, and treated him like a son, but Harry just couldn't see himself opening up to her.

When Harry did not reply, Ginny opened the door and shut it behind her. She sat down on Harry's bed and simply took his hand. She did not expect him to say anything, did not expect anything of him, she just wanted him to know that she was there for him.

"It was awful," Harry said after a while. He sat up and reached for Ginny, who obediently crawled into his arms, knowing that showing him love often made Harry feel a lot better, given the lack of love he had experienced in his life. "He wouldn't listen to a word I said."

And Harry recounted the interview to Ginny, who gasped in all the right places and was furious by the end of it.

"What a complete bastard," she swore. "How could he do that to you? That's so unfair. When will he ever find anyone as qualified for the job as you?" She leaned forward to face him. "Oh, Harry, you must be feeling awful."

"You could say that," he sighed. "I dunno, Gin, maybe I shouldn't have lost my temper ... but it was so hard! He was being so unreasonable!"

Ginny nodded, her eyes revealing complete empathy. "He was out of order, Harry; I can completely understand why you got angry with him."

It was amazing but whenever Ginny was close to him, Harry found that all of a sudden she was all he could think about. The interview momentarily slipped his mind as Harry reflected on how much closer they had become since Hermione's death just a few months ago. Before, they had been arguing, but since then, they had become closer than ever before. They had both been so scared of losing each other that they had vowed to be together forever. Harry loved being with Ginny; she understood him completely and she was a good listener. She knew about his past, and understood the consequences of it. She in turn loved Harry for his sense of humour, for his bravery and his kindness and he helped her with the fears she had developed since being possessed by Voldemort.

And that was when it hit him. As Harry considered everything they liked about each other and how much they meant to one another, he suddenly knew exactly how he felt about Ginny, and was overwhelmed with a feeling that he had never fully felt before.

"I love you, Gin," he whispered.

*

The next memory Harry saw took place on Ginny's seventeenth birthday. Harry had decided to treat Ginny to a meal out a posh London restaurant called Wanderful. Harry was not entirely sure he approved of the cheesy play on words, but he knew that Ginny had wanted to go there for a while. Being a classy wizarding restaurant, however, it was very expensive and very hard to get reservations. Harry had had to call in a favour with his boss, the manager of the Chudley Cannons (the team had signed him shortly after his disastrous interview at the Ministry) in order to get reservations.

It took Harry a while to get ready that night. He had bought some new dress robes especially for the occasion and he was now attempting to get his hair to lie flat. He knew that Hermione would have known some kind of spell to help him, but sadly, Hermione was no longer with them. Instead, he had taken to a Muggle product that he knew Dudley used to use - hair gel.

"I'm not sure you were supposed to put that much on," Ron was saying from where he was sitting on the side of the bath in the Weasleys' bathroom. He was reading the instructions on the tub of hair gel, instructions which the two of them had been trying to understand for the past half an hour. They had not yet been able to work out how the model in the picture managed to get his hair to look so perfect when Harry's refused adamantly to flatten.

Washing his hair with his wand for what felt like the tenth time, Harry groaned. "Give me that," he said, taking the tub from Ron and staring at what it said. "Yeah, it says apply liberally," he pointed out, sighing as he took small amounts of hair gel and put it in his hair.

"Well, you know I have no experience with Muggle products so don't go blaming me!" Ron replied, crossing his arms grumpily.

Harry sighed. Upsetting Ron had not been his intention. The problem was, neither he nor Ron had ever been good at beautifying spells - that had been Hermione's area of expertise - and, even now, months after Hermione's death, they were still attempting to make up for the knowledge she had had that they had always taken for granted. Neither was usually bothered; they didn't care what they looked like, Ron in particular as he had not taken to the dating scene since Hermione's death, meaning he had no one to impress, and Ginny liked Harry just the way he was - there was no point in beautifying spells when she saw him when he had just woken up.

Today, however, was very different. Today was Ginny's seventeenth birthday and Harry wanted to make it special for her. Besides, if they were going out to Wanderful, he had to look smart or they wouldn't let him in.

Finally, once Harry had applied as much of the hair gel as he could without covering it completely in gel, his hair seemed as flat as they were going to get it and Harry decided he was ready.

"Now to wait for Ginny," Ron sniggered. "She'll be ages, mate, trust me. I mean, she's a woman!"

Harry forced a smile, though he was really too nervous to actually listen to anything Ron said. He wanted tonight to be perfect for Ginny. The truth was, tonight was a tester to see if they could have a sense of normality in their relationship. They had never yet had a proper date, for fear of Voldemort or his Death Eaters ruining it. Though Ginny had wanted to go out for a while, Harry had kept putting it off until finally he realised that he was making Ginny unhappy. There was also the matter of Mr and Mrs Weasley - or Arthur and Molly as he had been told to call them - who were not keen to see the two of them go out alone while there was a war going on. This meant that if tonight went well, they could go on more dates. If not, well, they were going to have to seriously consider their relationship, a prospect which scared Harry: now that he and Ginny were together, he didn't want to think about leaving her.

"Fancy a game of chess while we wait?" Ron asked as they reached the living room.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said distractedly, figuring that it might take his mind off his nerves.

Attempting to concentrate fully on the game, Harry moved his pieces carefully. However, it was not long before Ron beat him, as was usual when one played against Ron, and Harry decided he was too distracted for a game of chess. Instead, he walked out into the garden and sat on the step, placing his head in his hands, hoping desperately that tonight would be okay.

"You alright, mate?"

It was Bill, who, along with Charlie, had come home for his only sister's seventeenth birthday.

Shrugging, Harry sighed. "I don't even know how to answer that question anymore," he answered truthfully.

Bill smiled sympathetically. "It's been hard slog these last few years, hasn't it?" he said. "What with Hermione's death and all the pressure you've been put under by the wizarding world since Dumbledore's death and on top of that you're trying to make a relationship work, which can be hard at the best of times. Life hasn't been kind to you, Harry."

Harry shook his head. He didn't like to dwell on his losses. "I think what's hardest is seeing the effect it's having on Ginny and Ron," he explained. "We all know Ron's still struggling to come to terms with Hermione's death even now, a year on, and his pride doesn't help things."

Bill nodded and smiled faintly. "That old Weasley pride," he said almost fondly. "Yeah, Ron's not going to be admitting how hard life is for him anytime soon. It's hardly surprising he's taken to the drink and that he's unemployed." He shook his head and sighed. "Charlie and I are trying really hard to hide Ron's drinking from Mum. It's not easy."

"I know," Harry agreed. "I only wish I could hide it from Ginny." He sighed and stood up, almost angrily. "I just - I hate what she's going through. I hate that she lost her best friend at sixteen, and that on top of that she's having to deal with her brother becoming an alcoholic, trying so hard to steer him away from depression that it's only at night that she consider her own feelings. She still cries herself to sleep every night, Bill, did you know that?"

Bill shook his head, pain in his eyes. "I didn't," he said quietly.

"Every night since Hermione's death," Harry informed him. "She shouldn't have to cope with this pain anymore," he said angrily, hitting the wall with his fist. Then, cradling his bloody knuckles, he collapsed back onto the step next to Bill, pushing back the tears he had been suppressing for so long.

Harry recalled how, just over a year ago now, he had broken up with Ginny whilst attending Dumbledore's funeral. Remembering his reasons back then, Harry became more aware than ever before of the two conflicting feelings that were threatening to tear him apart. On the one hand, he felt that he and Ginny should never have got back together, that he had just given her more to lose by giving her something she wanted, that if they had stayed apart, she would have got over him and it wouldn't matter that his life was in danger. But on the other hand, had he not been with Ginny this past year, he was not sure how either would have coped. He knew they shared a certain comfort, a comfort they could find only in their love for one another, something that had helped them both considerably through Hermione's death and all the other consequences of the war. How was he supposed to choose? One way, Ginny would be heartbroken now but happier in the long run. The other way, she would be happier now but stood to be heartbroken should anything happen to him. It was exactly the feeling he had felt after Dumbledore's death, when he had come to realise that no one was safe around him. Back then, he had chosen to break up with Ginny. But could he do the same again, now that they had been together for so much longer and knew how much they stood to lose by breaking up?

"You know, Harry," Bill said finally, "if there's anything I've learnt from being the oldest of seven, it's that you can't always protect people. If you spend your life trying to protect Ginny, she'll only resent you for it. I think that's a lesson we all struggled to learn with Ginny, being our only sister and the youngest of us all, but it's one we had to learn. Mum'll tell you if you ask her that one of the hardest things about love is learning that you can't always prevent people's suffering; that sometimes you have to watch them make mistakes. It's hard, but it's the ultimate test of love."

Before Harry could answer Ron coughed pointedly behind them, and Harry stood to see Ginny enter the room. Wearing an elegant black strapless cocktail dress that revealed her summer tan and curvy figure, with her bright red hair tied up into a graceful twist, Ginny ignored everyone in the room but Harry, staring at him nervously.

A wide smile formed on Harry's face, staring at the beauty that was Ginny. His nerves flooding back to him, Harry closed the gap between himself and Ginny and, taking her hand, kissed her cheek gently.

"You look so beautiful," he told her quietly.

The night started out as quite a pleasant one. Wandeful was everything Harry had hoped it would be and more. Located in a building that had once been a church, the building had beautiful architecture. The windows were stained class, which in itself seemed to cause some kind of mystical atmosphere in the building. In addition to this, the bar was placed on what had once been a stone altar and magnificent pillars had been placed strategically around the building. So breathtaking was this building that Ginny seemed to simply glow with pleasure as the Service le Magician, as was the custom name for the table staff at prestigious wizarding restaurants, seated them at their table.

"Wine, sir? Mademoiselle?" asked the Magicien de Vin, the waiter known in the cheaper restaurants as the Wine Wizard - if indeed they had anyone in charge of the wine at all.

Looking at the wine list, Harry tried to ignore the fact that the cheapest wine on the list was about 10 galleons and instead looked to Ginny, determined not to ruin her night with money worries. He was still proving his worth to the Cannons and was therefore still only a sub, which meant that his pay wasn't yet up to the rate most players would receive. Additionally, he donated whatever money he could to charity, the Order and the Weasleys (he was determined to pay for his keep, however much they protested) and found he was uncomfortable spending so much money on food and drink when others were more in need.

"Choose what you like, Gin," he told her. When she raised her eyebrows he added, "After all, it's not every day you come of age."

"Of age?" the Magicien de Vin asked, looking from Harry to Ginny. "Mademoiselle, please accept a complimentary bottle of our finest wine."

Pointing his wand, the wizard produced a large bottle of Dragon Wine and two flutes. The bottle uncorked itself and began to pour its contents into the two glasses, one of which had appeared in front of Ginny and the other in front of Harry.

"Thank you very much," Ginny said gratefully, and then knocking her glass against Harry's, she said, "Cheers."

"Cheers," Harry said, sipping his own drink.

As the Magicien de Vin disappeared, Harry began to look at the menu, wondering if there was anything on there he had actually heard of before.

The night continued quite slowly, which Harry didn't mind at all for he found he was enjoying himself immensely. He ordered himself a dragon egg pie and Ginny a thestral salad with a pumpkin wine dressing. He was pleased to see how well the night was going; so far no one had recognised him and the pair were able to talk easily, reminding Harry of the old days, of when they had gone out in his sixth year - before everything had changed.

It was just as they tucked into their dessert that it happened. Having ordered treacle tart, Harry was about to tell Ginny about the time in his sixth year when he had smelled Amortentia and had received wafts of treacle tart, roast beef and a flowery smell that he now knew to be Ginny. Before the words had even escaped his mouth, screams came from outside, and Harry could just make out through the glass doors the limp, lifeless body of a witch, obviously one of the Service le Magiciens, fall to the ground at the front of the restaurant. Before anyone had the chance to digest this, a crowd of Death Eaters entered the restaurant, marching through the restaurant with their wands, shooting killing curses at anyone and everyone. It was clear that they had not known Harry would be there, for they did not seem to be targeting him - their aim was obviously just that of murderous chaos, the kind the Death Eaters loved. But Harry knew there was no way he could just sit and watch it all happen.

His first priority was Ginny. He noticed that she was already brandishing her wand, and that her intention was to fight the Death Eaters, to keep them away from the diners who had not yet been hit by the flying killing curses. But there was no way Harry was going to let Ginny risk her life.

"Ginny, get out of here," he told her quickly and urgently. "Get as many people as you can and get out of here. Then Apparate to the Ministry and let them know."

Ginny glared at Harry. "There is no way I'm leaving here! I'm staying to fight, Harry and don't you dare tell me to do otherwise!"

Furious that Ginny wasn't listening to him, that she was willing to risk her life, Harry persisted angrily. "Ginny, do as I say! Get out of here! I'm not letting anything happen to you!"

"Why? So you can be the hero alone? So you can get yourself killed and leave the wizarding world without any hope? So you can leave me? What am I supposed to do without you, Harry? If you die, I've got no one. If you die, I'll die inside anyway so if you're going to risk your life, you're not doing it alone."

Knowing by now that there was no arguing with Ginny when she got like this, Harry sighed and nodded in agreement. "Fine, you take that side and I'll take that side."

The Death Eaters clearly had not anticipated resistance. As soon as Harry and Ginny started fighting them, though they fought back just as hard, it was clear they were taken by surprise and Harry always maintained that this was the only reason he and Ginny survived. Once the other diners saw Harry and Ginny fighting, others decided to find their courageous side and they too began to fight. By the time the Aurors and the Order arrived, the Death Eaters had disapparated, leaving the chaos of the restaurant behind.

Later that evening, Harry found that what he had hoped would be a perfect night had been ruined not only by the Death Eaters, but by his own attitude.

"How dare you try and make decisions for me!" Ginny screeched once they were back at the Burrow, alarming Ron, Molly and Arthur, who had been waiting for them to get back, having heard about the attack at the restaurant.

"Is there anything wrong with trying to keep my girlfriend alive?" Harry shouted in return, just as angrily.

"You think I can't make it on my own? You think that I'll die if I don't have you there to protect me?"

"Maybe protecting you is what it takes to keep you alive. Maybe I'm sick of losing everyone I love and if I can do anything to stop losing one more person then I'll do it!"

"Don't undermine my magical ability," came Ginny's reply through fast forming tears.

"I know you're a powerful witch, but that doesn't mean you have to fight every battle!" Harry shouted in explanation.

"What, but you can? Why are you so intent on saving me but killing yourself?"

"Because it's my destiny! I can't avoid it! I'm the one that has to kill Voldemort, not you. I'm the one the prophecy's about!"

"Well, Mr 'I'm-the-Chosen One', I wouldn't want to get in the way of your big ego, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed!"

*

However, the memories kept on coming and Harry knew that this was not where their relationship ended. It was obvious that they had made up at some stage because the next memory showed Harry nervously standing in front of the bathroom mirror, talking to his reflection and confessing his love.

"You should be careful about how loud you talk when you confess your love for yourself."

Harry jumped and noticed in the reflection of the mirror that Ron was standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

Ron sniggered. "More like what are you doing? You're the one confessing your undying love for your reflection."

Harry glared at Ron and sighed. "Don't be thick," he said. "I was -"

Now that it came to explaining, Harry found he was suddenly quite embarrassed, more embarrassed than at having been caught. How could he explain to Ron what he was feeling, that he had realised in the past few months how much his little sister meant to him? Since their argument on the night of Ginny's birthday, their relationship had grown stronger and now that Harry was 21, of age everywhere in the Muggle world as well as the wizarding world, Harry knew there was one final step that needed to be taken, one that he had been considering for years but had never really been sure about. Until now.

Deciding that there was one easy way of explaining, Harry dug in his pocket and took out a small black velvet jewellery box and handed it to Ron. Gawping, Ron looked from Harry to the box as if to say, 'Is this what I think it is?' To confirm his suspicion, Ron opened the box and gasped: there, sitting proudly on pale blue satin, was a silver ring, encrusted with small diamonds and crowned with one bigger one on top.

"You - you're going to - are you going to propose?" Ron asked, stunned.

Harry nodded nervously, worried that Ron thought it was the wrong thing to do and that Ginny would think likewise. However, next minute Ron was looking up at Harry with a genuine smile, one that Harry so rarely saw on his last remaining best friend these days.

"That's fantastic," he said, slapping Harry's shoulder. "Congratulations."

"You think it's a good idea then?" Harry asked. "You don't think that it's too soon or anything?"

While Harry and Ginny had been seeing each other for almost four years now, a part of Harry was worried that he was rushing into things. The war had sadly taken its toll on their relationship and had caused them a lot more problems than many couples had to deal with in a lifetime together. For this reason, a part of Harry worried that maybe he and Ginny were trying too hard, that perhaps they shouldn't have to try at all - that they shouldn't be together.

Ron, however, did not seem to be thinking this. "I think it's great mate," he assured Harry. "Seriously, I think Ginny will think it's fantastic - you're going to make her so happy."

Grinning back at his best friend, Harry asked Ron to wish him luck before he disapparated and appeared at the Ministry of Magic, where he was surprising Ginny by taking her out to lunch.

Strolling over to the front desk, Harry said, "Hi, Frank," to the wizard at the desk, whom he knew well by now due to the many visits he had paid Ginny at work.

"Hi, Harry," Frank said, taking Harry's wand. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good, thanks," Harry replied. "I'm just surprising Ginny by taking her out to lunch. How's Daisy?"

Frank, who had been in Hufflepuff a few years above Harry at Hogwarts, had been married to his wife Daisy for several years now. Harry knew that Daisy was heavily pregnant and wondered if she had had the baby yet.

"Ah, she's fine, fine," Frank replied, "Due any day now," he added, handing Harry back his wand and giving him a badge labelled 'Harry Potter, Visitor'. "Well, enjoy your lunch. I'll see you later."

Leaving Frank, Harry headed towards the lift where he waited, as usual, for Level Two - the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It had been hard at first, walking past Auror Headquarters on the way to meeting Ginny where she worked in the Office of Magical Trade (a tedious job that involved formulating trading standards and ensuring that they were stuck to - a job that did not suit Ginny at all, for it usually meant sitting at a desk and dealing with paperwork, while higher-ranking colleagues dealt with the more interesting activities), knowing that had he only finished Hogwarts he could have been working there, but he was finally getting used to it, greeting Tonks and Kingsley on his way through. As usual, he ignored Zacharias Smith, whom Harry felt a large amount of resentment towards since Harry had trained him himself in the D.A. and yet Zacharias had been able to get a job here when Harry himself could not.

However, he had almost finished the torturous walk through when he heard someone call his name. Turning, he saw Ginny sitting on a desk in one of the cubicles at the other side of the room, dressed in her fitted black robes that he had bought her when she had started work, her long red hair tied up in a pony tail. Wondering vaguely why she was in Auror Headquarters, Harry walked towards the cubicle. As soon as he got there, his heart stopped. Sitting at the desk was the person to whom the cubicle was clearly owned by: Dean Thomas, Ginny's ex-boyfriend.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Ginny asked, a smile on her face.

"I've - I've come to take you out for lunch," Harry replied distractedly, looking from Ginny to Dean.

Ginny's face visibly fell as she looked awkwardly at Dean before looking back at Harry again. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I had lunch with Dean. You see it's his first day so I said I'd show him somewhere nice to go since the Ministry canteen's disgusting. I took an earlier lunch break so that I could take him." She looked apologetically at Harry before adding, "I'm really sorry."

Harry shrugged and tried to cover up how stupid he felt. "That's fine," he said, attempting a smile. "Don't worry about it." He turned to Dean and said, "So you're an Auror now?"

Dean nodded, grinning. "Yeah - and it's all thanks to you, Harry. Of course I didn't have some of the NEWTs I needed, but Henry said that it was okay, you know, considering the circumstances and everything."

Trying to hide the jealously boiling inside him, Harry smiled and managed a "Congratulations."

Ginny seemed to sense the way he was feeling. Taking Harry's hand and caressing it gently, she grinned at Dean and said, "I can't believe how lucky I am to have someone like Harry. How many people can say their boyfriend comes to surprise them for lunch?"

Dean grinned at Harry. "Yeah, you two are great together. Parvati's too busy working on her business lately," he added, his brow creasing.

Harry barely had time to realise that he couldn't recall Dean and Parvati ever being an item or indeed showing any interest in each other, before Ginny, with an interest in gossip that only girls have, said, "I didn't know you two got together! When did that happen?"

"Yeah, we bumped into each other a while ago," Dean explained, picking up a photo of the pretty Asian girl and handing it to Ginny. "She and Lavender own a shop in Hogsmeade called Bewitched - some witch's fashion shop - and I was in there with my girlfriend at the time about a year or so ago. Anyway, I got talking to them both and when I broke up with my girlfriend, I dunno, I just ended up meeting up with Parvati again."

Feeling rather foolish, Harry decided he wanted to end this conversation with Dean as soon as possible, so he made his excuses, told Ginny he would see her at home, before heading back towards the lift, feeling rather downcast.

Stepping into the lift, Harry noticed that the only company he had was some interdepartmental memos in the shape of paper airplanes and a young witch with short black hair, blue eyes and a wide grin on her face.

"Wotcher Harry!"

"Hi Tonks," Harry replied wearily, not so sure he wanted company when he could be wallowing in self-pity.

Noticing that something wasn't quite right, Tonks' face filled with concern, her grin fading and the mischief that usually shone in her eyes suddenly hidden by a cloud of worry.

"You okay?" she asked concernedly.

Sighing, Harry reflected on what had just happened. He had just caught his girlfriend with her ex-boyfriend, the one she had been with until she decided she liked Harry, talking like old days. Not only that, but he had been given Harry's dream job thanks to Harry's teaching in the D.A. and was now working in the same department as Ginny, which meant he would be seeing a lot more of her than Harry. Like now for instance. Harry had just been turned down for lunch because of him.

Revealing these feelings to Tonks, Harry was glad to see that Tonks looked sympathetic. "Oh, Harry, I know it's hard, but you have to remember that Ginny loves you. She's not going to leave you for Dean - or anyone else for that matter. Yes, she'll be seeing a lot of him now, but she's over him. He's just an ordinary colleague who she happened to go to school with. Anyway, take it from me, once Dean finds his feet, they'll have him working such crazy hours and doing so much he won't have much time to see her anyway." She smiled and added, "And I'm sure you can take her out for lunch tomorrow."

"If only it were that simple," Harry replied with a sigh. Fiddling in his pocket, he took out the box he had previously taken out for Ron and showed it to a shocked Tonks.

"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed loudly, startling an old wizard and a House Elf climbing into the lift from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. "This is fantastic! Ginny will be delighted. And then she's yours forever - you don't have to worry about Dean or anyone else."

It took him a while, however, to finally propose, so that by the time it finally happened, it was the following week. Lying down in the Weasleys' back garden, they were laughing and joking together on one of those rare days they both had off, when Harry suddenly said it.

"Marry me."

The words had left his mouth before he had even thought about them, yet somehow he knew the moment was right.

Ginny's eyes filled with surprise and delight as she squealed her answer, pulling Harry towards her for a kiss.

But as he watched this flashback, Harry knew it would be one of the last happy moments the couple would share before everything finally got too much and they ended it. It was only a matter of time.

*