Forget You

Blame it on the Firewhisky

Harry could not breathe, could not think, the only thing he was able to do was cry.

After leaving the Burrow, after leaving Ginny, he managed to find his way back to his home, Grimmauld Place, which Sirius had left for him when he passed. Harry had tucked himself away into his room drowning himself in his misery. Kreacher had come to Harry's room countless of times offering a variety of foods and drinks, but Harry politely declined all the offerings, he did not feel as if he could do much of anything at that moment. Instead he chose to lie down on his godfathers, Sirius', bed while looking at the letter his mother had written long ago. As well as staring at the picture of him riding the broom as a young child. Trying to remember just who he was before Ginny Weasley.

After several long minutes of staring at the photo as well as the letter his mind cleared up. It was as if the fog that had encompassed his brain finally lifted.

Now he was free to dwell on the fact that Ginny Weasley was not his, Harry's hand instinctively moved into his front pants pocket and his hand engulfed the box which had a ring nestled inside. He bit back down the tears that were blurring his vision.

How come of all days she would pick this one to drop this bombshell on him?

Why on the day that he wanted to ask for her hand in marriage did she decide to leave him?

Could he have had done anything differently to stop this all from occuring?

The answer was clear. No. There was nothing that could have been done. 

Harry had been wrapped up in trying to figure out exactly hew as going to propose these past few months. Maybe his focus on that made him lose some focus on Ginny herself? Maybe Ginny felt as if she had not gotten enough attention from him and decided to go out and look for it somewhere else. Or someone else. 

Suddenly Harry felt his throat go dry. He looked around the room for something to drink, and there, on his bedside table, was a glass of firewhisky. From his house-elf,  Kreacher knew exactly just what Harry needed. He needed to forget all of his problems and all of the pain that came along with them. 

"She never loved me." Harry mumbled to himself realizing the truth in his words. Ginny had never been in love with him and all that he was left to do was wonder why she had strung him along for all these years. Surely it was not love if she left him so easily. Found someone else in the blink of an eye.

He took a long gulp of the firewhisky and pushed himself to the side of the bed, feet on the ground.

"She never loved me." He repeated to himself. He didn't know what to do he managed to pull himself up from the bed. He finished off his large cup of firewhisky and slammed it on the table, he wasn't fully drunk, but his vision had started to get blurred, and it was getting difficult for him to walk much less think.

"Kreacher." He called out.

"Yes master." Kreacher stared at Harry with his large golf ball sized eyes.

"Bring me some more firewhiskey." Kreacher nodded his head, his ears flooping slightly and disapeared, and came back seconds later a bottle of firewhiskey in hand. Wordlessly he handed it to Harry. Harry nodded back at him and thanked him before pulling his bag over his shoulder.

"If Kreacher may ask..." Kreacher trailed off while looking at him, Harry nodded at him to continue.

"Kreacher was wondering where master was going." 

Harry did not exactly know where he was going. He wanted to go to some place that made him remember exactly who he was before all of this. Inspiration struck Harry.