Harry stood in the shower of his flat on the edge of Muggle London, letting the warm water slide down his back. He'd just returned from the Burrow, where the Weasleys and Hermione had celebrated Ginny's eighteenth birthday. Two months ago, Ginny graduated, as it were, from Hogwarts. Last month, she had signed with the Holyhead Harpies, the only all-witch Quidditch team, as a reserve Chaser.
Harry sighed. Not that Ginny's Quidditch ambitions were a deterrent to his wanting to date her – at least it would be easier than the last year when Ginny had been in her seventh year at Hogwarts. He went to see her Quidditch games, and they had Hogsmeade weekends, but still… Harry chuckled to himself. It's not as if he was an old codger himself, he'd just celebrated his nineteenth birthday two weeks ago. They had time. Ginny was out of school. And now, without the threat of school, summer homework, and not to mention Voldemort hanging over their heads, Harry took the opportunity to take Ginny on a few 'real' dates. Last night, they'd celebrated Ginny's birthday between the two of them. Harry had taken her on a Muggle-style date – dinner and a movie. It was a relatively new experience for Harry, too, as the Dursleys had never willingly taken Harry anywhere when he'd been forced to live with them.
Harry grinned as he recalled Ginny's wide-eyed astonishment at the film that quickly turned to amusement and a desire to bring her father to see it. 'You know Dad,' she said, 'he'd love this!' Ginny watched the movie, in rapt attention. It was 'Singing in the Rain', a movie that had become one of Harry's favorites. He had a television, a VCR, and more recently, a DVD player. There were weekends where he rented a stack of videos and watched one after another. Harry had developed a taste for old movies. Especially the musicals – they just seemed so happy. That particular theatre showed old movies from time to time, and when Harry found out they were showing one of his favorite films, he vowed to bring Ginny. He didn't want to leave her out of anything else, if he could avoid it.
Harry turned the taps off and grabbed a towel off the shelf next to the tub. Wrapping it around his waist, Harry padded into his bedroom and opened a dresser drawer. Rummaging for a pair of socks, Harry found a book he'd bought in a Muggle shop a few months ago. He blushed, even though no one else was around to see it, and surreptitiously pulled it out from under a pile of socks. It was a book about sex. Harry thought eventually he would want to do that one day, but he knew next to nothing about the subject. Maybe Ron was right and Hogwarts needed a class on dealing with the opposite sex. Harry had come home and read it straight through, cheeks burning the entire time. He'd stuffed it in his socks so Teddy wouldn't find it when he came over. When he managed to fall asleep that night, he'd dreamed of Ginny. Not that he slept much. Harry slipped the book back under the socks and pulled out a pair Dobby had given him fourth year for Christmas. They were starting to wear thin a bit, but Harry kept them and wore them in memory of the little house elf who had saved his life. Then he found a pair of green flannel boxers with Snitches and a faded t-shirt.
He dressed slowly, allowing his mind to clear. Harry wandered into the main room of the flat, stopping to look at the photographs on the walls and mantle of the fireplace. There were several of Teddy, with turquoise hair, laughing as he toddled into Harry's outstretched arms, or liberally dribbled with spaghetti. Harry smiled at the one from Teddy's first birthday. Like all babies, Teddy ended up wearing more of the cake than eating it. Ginny had helped him give Teddy a bath. It took 3 tries before they could wash out all the frosting in Teddy's hair. There were several of himself, Ron, and Hermione from the age of eleven on up. Then there were the photos of him and Ginny. There was the one from Ginny's seventeenth birthday. Someone had taken it while they were unawares. Harry was brushing Ginny's hair away from her neck before he brushed a kiss where her neck met her shoulder.
Harry wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a butterbeer from the fridge. Twisting the cork out, he went back to the sitting room, and picked up his latest video. Hmmm. 'The Sound of Music', eh? Turning on the television and VCR, Harry slid in the tape and settled back on the sofa. Sipping his butterbeer, Harry lost himself in the movie. Sure, it was corny, but Harry had spent enough of his life with darkness shadowing him.
