How I Met Your Father

Chapter 4

Harry smiled back. "Exactly. Which brings us to the rest of the story..."

~*~*~*~*~Year 4~*~*~*~*~

The day started with a pounding headache. Harry groaned and curled into his blanket, trying to block out the cruel and entirely unnecessary sunlight which clearly existed only to spite him. Gods, what had he done last night? His memory was foggy, nothing but bright lights and flashes.

He remembered the club. The strobe lights still seemed to flash before his eyes. And...Blaise? Yes, Blaise had been there. Of course he was. As Harry's self appointed wingman, he was practically omnipresent. Most of the time, Harry didn't mind. Ginny had been gone for over two months now. He still missed her dreadfully but Blaise seemed to have a near endless supply of booze and free club passes at his disposal and considering that he insisted on dragging Harry all over the city, it was no wonder that more often than not, Harry woke up hungover, half dressed and more often than not, in someone else's home.

Through a haze of sleep, he discerned the faint noise of his shower. For a second, he considered telling Ron to use his own damn shower and then he remembered that Ron and Mione didn't live here anymore. Which meant...

Harry groaned.

Seriously? He didn't even remember pulling a bird last night. The bar he had been at didn't even have that many girls, to the best of his recollection. He even remembered Blaise mumbling about a 'total sausage fest'.

No, he had definitely not pulled last night. Maybe Blaise had.

Harry growled under his breath. If one of Blaise's one nighters was using hisshower, he was going to kill the blighter. Blaise, not the girl. And now things weren't making sense even in his head.

Harry muttered under his breath as he attempted to extricate himself from his covers. His head pounded as he stood shakily and knocked on the bathroom door.

"The room's all yours," he called out. "Just...you know, make yourself comfortable."

There was no response save for a slight splashing. Harry shook his head and made his way to the kitchen. The second he entered, he wished he could just curl up and die. The light was agonizing in his current state and he whined in abject misery as he shuffled over to the fridge. Gods, where was the curry? Curry fixed everything. Especially a bitching hangover the size of...

"Harry James Potter! We need to talk!"

Harry whined as the insides of his head went off like a bleeding church bell. Blaise wasn't appeased. He marched over and slammed the fridge shut. His expression spoke of great pain and misfortune. Harry absently wondered if he had thrown up on one of Blaise's precious suits last night. Or eaten his firstborn. Although knowing Blaise, he would probably be far more devastated over the former.

"You suck at this!" Blaise ranted, barring him from the fridge. "You hear me? We have now arrived at the picturesque town of Sucksville. Population: you!"

"Nooo," Harry whined, grappling helplessly. "Curry..."

"I threw it out," Blaise sneered. "And before you ask, you deserve it. Oh, you deserve it."

"What'd I do?" Harry moaned. "And where did you come from?"

"I let myself in when you pointedly refused to answer my Floo calls!" Blaise informed him. "Do you have any idea how worried I was when you took off last night? Do you? First rule of being single, Potter: You need a wingman! Do not abandon your wingman. Never abandon your wingman! That is not legendary! It is not even legen-without the-dary! It's just rude, is what it is. We..."

"Wait."

Harry froze as Blaise's little rant started bringing things back. Blaise had been there but then he had left. That made sense. Harry recalled drinking (a lot of drinking) and dancing alone for a bit, until someone had joined him. He couldn't really recall much but he remembered a set of warm hands on his body, drawing him against a slim, toned body. He couldn't put a face to those hands but he did remember a mesmerising pair of brown eyes. Laughing, teasing brown eyes.

Eyes exactly like Ginny's.

And then, lips on his neck. Soft, pliant lips, going lower and lower...and then he was drawing a blank. But judging by the fact that there was a girl in his shower and Blaise hadn't been around since earlier that night...

"I brought a girl home," Harry whispered.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Excuse you?"

"I brought a girl home," Harry repeated blankly. "Unless you..."

"Nope," Blaise clarified. "I went home after the nice lady Auror strip searched me. I offered to return the favour but..."

"Blaise!" Harry's panicked voice cut off what promised to be a very disturbing story. He swallowed and scrubbed a shaky hand through his hair. "Are you listening to me? I brought a girl home!"

"That's not all you brought home," Blaise scoffed, gesturing at something behind Harry. "Seriously, what is that all about?"

Harry's gaze zeroed in on the large pineapple proudly holding court at his kitchen counter. He gaped, slightly dumbfounded. "I...I have no idea," he mumbled. Gods, what had he done last night? A whimper escaped him. This was bad. This was so bad. He couldn't handle this. He was going to be sick. He just knew it...

"What?" Blaise demanded. "You're going to whine about this now? It isn't bad enough that you dumped me but then you go and pull a bird without your wingman- to go grocery shopping with her, apparently- and now you're going to complain? Oh, I don't think so."

"I haven't brought anyone back here since Ginny," Harry groaned. Seriously, what the hell? His break up was still painfully fresh in his mind. There were days when Ginny was all he could think about. And now he had basically fucked up in the worst way possible. He had brought someone back to his place and...wait, had he even shagged her?

As if on cue, another flashback assaulted his already frayed senses. Those lips from earlier, tracing patterns down his chest. Brown eyes lit up with mischief and then those lips were wrapped around his cock and a talented tongue was licking and sucking at him, bringing him to completion and...

"Oh Merlin." Harry staggered. His legs just refused to cooperate and he slumped on a chair, holding his head in his hands. "I am never drinking again."

"Yeah, that's what they all say," Blaise snickered. "But let's look at the silver lining, yes? You got some action. Okay, so maybe it wasn't with Ginevra but..."

"Blaise, will you please just shut up for a minute?" Harry snapped. This was it. He had wrecked it. That delicate, fragile, barely there strand of hope that he had been holding on to for two months was gone. He had officially 'moved on'. His last connection with Ginny- the bed they had shared- had been surrendered to a total stranger in a night of drunken debauchery. And yes, he knew that Ginny was gone- maybe for good- but it didn't make it any easier. He had been holding out for her. In the tiniest, deepest, darkest corner of his heart, he had been waiting for her to come back.

And now, he had officially stopped waiting. He had brought someone else back to his place. If that wasn't giving up, he didn't know what was. Appropriately, Harry began to panic.

"I have to get her out of here," he announced, getting up shakily. "She's got to go."

"Harry, that's just rude. At least buy her a coffee or someth..."

"No!" Harry snapped, marching over to his bedroom again. "I can't do this. I can't! She can't stay. She has to..."

He wrenched the door open as he ranted, nearly colliding with the person on the other side.

Harry trailed off as his words turned to dust. His throat went dry and his eyes bulged. He heard Blaise's sharp intake of breath, or maybe it was his own. He couldn't be sure over the pounding in his ears. And then as if guided by instinct, his mouth started working again.

"...leave," Harry finished in a near whisper.

The boy raised an eyebrow and donned his jacket. "Wow," he said, sounding offended. "Rude much?"

The boy.

It was a boy.

"You know, I expected better manners from the great Harry Potter," he continued, brushing his brown bangs out of his eyes. "Typical celebrities."

A boy.

It took Harry a while to come up with an appropriate reaction to this situation. Of course in hindsight, backing away frantically and hiding behind Blaise probably wasn't it but it was the best he could come up with in these horrifying circumstances.

The boy frowned and cocked his head, eyeing Harry's quick retreat with obvious annoyance. His brown eyes - brown eyes and oh Merlin, Harry was going to pass out - drifted from Harry to Blaise.

"Is he okay?"

Blaise's Slytherin training seemed to have deserted him. "You're a bloke," he blurted. He held himself stiffly but Harry could sense the slight tremble of his shoulders. He couldn't tell if it was alarm or suppressed laughter.

The boy scoffed. "Good call," he replied. "The name's Skyler."

"Blaise Zabini," Blaise introduced himself. Unlike Harry, he at least, had recovered from the shock. His eyes darted from Harry's panicked gaze to Skyler's curious expression. "Forgive me, I wasn't expecting...well, you."

"Apparently, neither was he," Skyler retorted, jerking his head in Harry's direction. "Shame, really. He seemed pretty enthusiastic last night. Told me he was up for anything. Delivered for the most part, actually."

Harry swallowed convulsively, trying to steady his racing pulse. He had brought a boy home. He had been in bed with a boy. A boy had sucked him off and Harry had let him and...

"I'm going to faint," he announced dazedly. "I am literally going to pass out on the floor right now."

Skyler's eyes narrowed. "That won't be necessary," he said coldly. "I'll get out of your way and you can have your little meltdown in peace."

"He means no offence," Blaise placated. "We're just...surprised."

Skyler's expression softened just a bit. "First time out of the closet?" he asked.

"Apparently," Blaise agreed with a shrug. "I hate to be rude but..."

"I get it. I'll leave now."

"Of course. But a word before you leave? You're obviously aware of my friend's public... er, persona. You used the term 'celebrity', if I recall. Discretion would be advisable in these extenuating circumstances so..."

Skyler waved a dismissive hand. "I know how this works. I won't tell a soul, Merlin's honour."

Blaise inclined his head. "Then we're good. Have a nice day."

"You too." Skyler smirked. "Ta, Harry."

Harry just ducked his head, refusing to look him in the eye. The sound of retreating footsteps echoed in his head as the boy turned away and made for the door.

"Wait," Blaise said suddenly. Skyler turned around, cocking his head enquiringly.

"Before you go, I have one last question. Do you know anything about the pineapple?"

Skyler frowned and shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me, mate. He had it when I met him."

"I see. Thank you for your time."

Skyler nodded and left, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. Harry let out a shuddering breath and slumped to the floor.

"I..."

He couldn't find the words to express the deluge of panic swirling in his gut. Oh gods, what had he done? Skyler, apparently. How had this happened? How could he have...

Blaise patted his shoulder soothingly. "This is why you never abandon your wingman," he intoned solemnly. The thin press of his mouth suggested that he was trying his damndest not to laugh.

Harry glared and shrugged his hand off. "What else could go wrong?" he mumbled, half to himself.

Blaise cocked his head and eyed Harry's back. "Well..."

Harry's spine stiffened and he turned to Blaise. "What?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Blaise replied, looking away swiftly.

"What. Is. It?" Harry intoned threateningly.

Blaise cleared his throat and took a few prudent steps back. "It's just...you also have a butterfly tattoo on your lower back."

"What?!"

Harry supposed this was a milestone of sorts. He was now, officially having the first of many, many life crises in Hermione and Ron's new flat. It was a nice, homey little place, tucked away in Central London. As far as Harry was concerned, its best feature was that there was enough room for him to pace.

"...and that's what happened last night," he finished. The story had come spilling out of him the second he had barged in, and he was sure he had been talking nonstop for an hour now. There hadn't been a single interruption. Blaise lounged on the sofa, peeling a grape as Harry rattled on and on. Hermione and Ron sat there in silence, staring at him as if he'd grown two heads. Now, as he finally winded down, the silence echoed in the flat. To Harry, it was almost deafening. He waited as his friends exchanged a cautious glance, waited for the verdict, for the barrage of questions and the drama and...

"So, did anyone figure out where the pineapple came from?" Ron enquired.

"That's your question?" Blaise drawled, popping the grape in his mouth. "Ask him about the tattoo. That has me concerned on a number of levels."

Harry stared, not entirely sure that he'd heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

As usual, it was Hermione who took charge. "Really, you two," she scolded. "Is that all you care about? Harry's distraught."

Ron just rolled his eyes. "What, we're seriously going to pretend we're shocked?" he asked her. Hermione shrugged and Harry's jaw dropped.

"What?" he squawked. "Are you serious? I slept with a bloke! How is that not shocking?"

Ron folded his hands and regarded Harry carefully. "Mate," he began cautiously. "Don't freak out or anything but...well, it's really not that much of a surprise."

"Thank you," Blaise drawled.

"Will you stop?" Hermione hissed. "We may have had our suspicions but Harry has clearly just figured this out. Can't you at least try to be supportive?"

"Wait," Harry spoke up, staring incredulously from one not-at-all-surprised face to the next. "What 'suspicions'?"

Hermione bit her lip and played with a strand of hair. "Now Harry, don't be mad. It was just a theory but we may have noticed a few...things."

"What sort of things?"

"You did spend a lot of time in the Gryffindor Locker Room," Ron contributed carefully. "Neville used to swear you were staring at him."

Harry's jaw dropped a few more inches. "I was not!" he all but screeched, waving his arms frantically. "You can't seriously believe that I..."

"I didn't," Hermione placated, patting his hand.

Harry's shoulders slumped as his ire deflated.

"But I did see you checking out Viktor Krum an awful lot."

"What?!"

"Viktor noticed it too," Hermione added. "And he was hardly observant."

"Look, this is ridiculous. I was absolutely not, under any circumstances..."

"Please," Blaise scoffed. "All this denial is boring me. I'm just going to go for the kill, if that's alright with everyone. Hey Harry, do you remember my good friend Draco Malfoy?"

"Malfoy!" Ron declared, throwing his arms in the air. "Of course!"

"Why didn't I think of Malfoy?" Hermione enquired with a puzzled frown. She sounded rather cross with herself for missing the obvious. "It was right there and I picked Viktor Krum. Come on, Hermione. You're better than that."

"Oh my god!" Harry practically howled. He could hardly believe it. He wasn't sure he did. This whole conversation was bordering on lunacy. "Seriously? You think I was...Malfoy? Seriously?"

"You stalked him all of Sixth Year," Blaise countered smoothly. "And if you think you were stealthy about it, well let's just say there's a reason you're not in Slytherin."

If Harry could have strangled him, he would have. "First of all," he growled. "I could have been in Slytherin, thank you very much. Second of all, I don't deny I was stalking Malfoy but I had reasons. Reasons we have gone over so many times that this shouldn't even be an argument!"

"Mate, we were all suspicious of him," Ron agreed. "But you got a bit..."

"What?" Harry hissed. "What did I 'get'?"

"Obsessed," Hermione mumbled.

Harry just stared in disbelief. He was literally speechless. There wasn't a thing he could say to counter this. It was just so insane; he couldn't even wrap his head around it. A hysterical laugh escaped him.

"So, that's it then?" he demanded. "You've been making bets behind my back over whether I'm bent or not? Ron, I dated your sister for a year!"

"Bisexual," Blaise announced. "Totally called it."

Harry was literally one step from hexing him, but Hermione wrapped a firm hand around his wrist. "We were not making bets," she said patiently. "Honest, Harry. We're your friends, remember? We just had a theory, that's all."

"Well, you shouldn't have a theory!" Harry snapped. "I'm not bent!"

"Why do you need to label it?" Ron asked. "So, you like boys. Or maybe you don't and it was a onetime thing. Or maybe you like boys and girls. It's really not that big a deal, you know. Percy has a boyfriend, Bill's married to a Veela, I don't even want to know what George and his 'assistant' Kyle get up to once they close the shop. It's all good. Nobody cares."

Harry shook his head helplessly. "But I can't be bent. Don't you get it?" He cringed at the note of desperation in his voice. "I want a family. That's all I've ever wanted and now..."

And now, that part of his hopes and dreams was going to pieces too. Why? Why had this happened to him?

Hermione's hands were on his shoulders. She turned him around firmly, her brown eyes staring straight into his.

"Harry, you're thinking too much. Just do what feels right and I promise, the rest will work out. It will. Can you just promise me you won't hyperventilate about this? It hasn't changed anything. Nothing important, at least."

"We've been with you every step of the way," Ron added. "We're not going to stop now."

"You're still my wingman," Blaise added with a careless shrug. "Hell, if I have to help you pull a bloke next time we're out on the town - challenge accepted."

Their firm acceptance gave him something to hold on to. Slowly, his panic subsided. Despite himself, Harry cracked a half smile. Once again, his friends were right by his side. Honestly, what would he do without them? Besides, they had a point. Maybe he was over thinking this. What were the chances he would ever meet Skyler again? Even in a small magical community, it was next to impossible. He probably wouldn't even remember this in a few...

"So? Are you going to tell us anything about the guy?" Hermione prodded.

Of course. Harry rolled his eyes. "There isn't anything to tell, really."

But of course that wasn't enough to satiate her curiosity. "At least tell me what he looked like. Was he fit?"

"Not really," Harry replied.

"Very," Blaise said, at the exact same moment.

He looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow. "Not really?" he repeated incredulously. "What are you, blind? I'm straight as an arrow and Ican say he looked bloody good in those denims. Seriously, kids dress nice these days."

Harry stared at him and an incredulous laugh escaped him. "You thought he was fit?"

Blaise nodded. "Good looking bloke. And trust me, I'm something of an expert."

Harry frowned, not entirely convinced. Skyler had struck him as pretty average. Then again, he had been too intent on avoiding direct eye contact with the man to make any astute observations. Of course, there was something to be said for the eyes - brown eyes, sharp and intense, long lashes. He was a bit young though, right? Couldn't be more than nineteen or something. And he had curly brown hair that framed that boyish face perfectly. And he was a sharp dresser too, Blaise had a point about those denims. In fact, now that he thought about it Skyler's arse had lookedreallygood in...

Right.

Harry cleared his throat and looked away pointedly. Blaise grinned ominously and Harry valiantly fought to keep the colour rising in his cheeks.

"You know," Blaise drawled, checking his nails. "I took the liberty of checking up on him. He's a barista at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley. You should look him up."

Harry stiffened. "And why would I do that?" he demanded. No matter what his very objective and detached opinions on the boy's looks, he wasn't about to ask him out. Harry wasn't bent and he wasn't about to go chasing after a younger man just because of an unfortunate one off.

Blaise just shrugged. "I thought you might like to apologise," he said. "You were rather rude this morning, you know."

Oh. Well, that made sense.

"I... suppose I could do that." Harry nodded slowly. Yeah, why not? "It's the right thing to do, after all."

Blaise just grinned and twirled his wand in his fingers.

"But of course."

Harry swallowed as he stood outside the modest little establishment tucked in a quiet little bylane heading off Diagon Alley. He had been waffling out on the porch of The Magic Bean for twenty minutes and it wasn't getting any easier. Passers by were starting to stare curiously at him now. Harry ducked his head.

Maybe he should just leave. Who was to say that Skyler even wanted to see him after the way he had behaved? He should just leave the bloke alone and...

"For Merlin's sake. Are you coming in or not?"

Harry jumped and nearly tripped over his feet. Skyler leaned against the door frame, arms crossed as he scrutinized Harry. His expression guarded and wary, but he held his ground.

"You can't just stand there all day," he informed Harry. "You're creeping out all the customers."

"I was hoping to talk to you," Harry replied, thankfully keeping himself from stuttering and stumbling over his words. "If you're not too busy, that is."

Skyler's eyes narrowed defensively. Harry suddenly felt like the greatest prat who ever lived. "Please?" he added softly.

"Fine," Skyler muttered. "But you're buying something first."

Ten minutes later, Harry found himself deposited at a table in the back with a latte and a muffin in front of him, nervously waiting for Skyler to finish up with the few customers waiting in queue. Now and then, his eyes drifted back to the table. Harry had to fight not to squirm under that accusing gaze. An agonizing twenty minutes later, Skyler surrendered his spot at the counter to a young blonde and seated himself across from Harry.

"Look, if this is about last night I already said I won't tell anyone," he stated. "If you think I'm eager for people to know that Harry Potter kicked me to the curb, you're mistaken."

Harry cringed. He supposed he deserved that. "No," he muttered, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. "That's not why I'm here. I came to apologise. I treated you horribly and I just...I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"I know."

"Right. And I'm sorry. Again. And it wasn't about your...your lifestyle or anything. I don't...I'm not like that."

Skyler's lips quirked. "Let me guess. Some of your best friends are gay."

"Well, no, but..."

Skyler cut him off with an amused laugh. He reached out and nicked a bit of Harry's muffin. "I didn't have lunch," he explained, popping the crumb into his mouth. Harry's eyes lingered on his lips for a second and he looked away at once, studiously focusing on a coffee ring on the table.

"Don't worry about it," Skyler said. "It wasn't the best send off I've ever had but I get where you're coming from. It's never easy coming out."

"I'm not bent," Harry told him.

Skyler shrugged and finished the rest of the muffin. "Well, if that's all then I should get back to work. Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it." He dusted his hands off and stood.

"Wait!"

Skyler paused and turned around again. Harry swallowed slightly. "I...do you want to have dinner some time?" he asked. "I'd just really like to make it up to you, that's all."

"I see," Skyler replied noncommittally. His lips twitched again. "Just as friends, I suppose?"

Harry nodded, a tad frantically. "Just friends," he confirmed. "If that's okay."

Skyler smiled. "It's okay. How does tomorrow at eight sound?"

It was a date.

That friendly dinner turned into a walk in the park. The walk turned into another dinner which then turned into a visit to the cinema. Harry found himself spending more and more time with Skyler.

Just as friends, of course. Skyler seemed content with that dynamic and never pushed for anything more, much to Harry's relief. So, they met after work and just talked. Harry liked that part. Skyler was younger than his other friends, fresh out of school, working part time and saving for college. It was such an average state of affairs, so normal that it should have been boring to someone like Harry. But Skyler wasn't boring. He was smart and interesting and he had a fresh perspective on things. It was refreshing. It was nice.

And then there was that whole other side of him. Skyler dated men. He was frank and open about his orientation and he answered all of Harry's curious questions with an air of patient amusement. Once, he had even tricked Harry into accompany him to a gay bar in London. Harry had spent the evening perched on a barstool, wary and guarded. Skyler on the other hand, had gone straight to the dance floor. Harry watched him intently, telling himself that it was purely academic curiosity that prompted his incessant staring. Nothing else - and especially not Skyler's tight denims or his lean body moving sinuously under the strobe lights.

By the time a month had passed, Skyler was even hanging out with the group at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry got the sense that his friends were confused by his sudden presence, but they welcomed him anyway. Blaise as always, took the lead in conversation and things just went on from there.

"And last night was the lovely and surprisingly flexible Daphne Greengrass," he announced triumphantly, wielding a quill and ticking off what looked suspiciously like a check list. "That's it. I have officially shagged every bird in my year at Hogwarts."

Hermione gave him a flat look and pointedly raised her hand. "Actually..."

"You don't count," Blaise cut in, waving her off impatiently. "Don't ruin this for me, Granger."

"It's Granger Weasley," Hermione replied. "And at least try to behave. We have company."

She gave Skyler an apologetic nod. He just shrugged and raised his glass. "It's okay. Harry warned me."

Blaise obliged by flipping them the bird and the rest of the table laughed. That lightened the mood a bit. Harry smiled, pleased by how well things were going. Skyler winked at him and he grinned back.

"So, Skyler Flint," Ron spoke up suddenly. "You wouldn't be related to Marcus Flint, would you?"

"He's my second cousin twice removed. Or something," Skyler explained.

"Ah," Ron replied noncommittally. He looked less than happy with this new revelation.

"You can say it. He's an arse."

"Such an arse," Ron agreed readily.

"Worst Quidditch Captain ever," Blaise added. "We didn't win a single match the whole Second Year."

Skyler rolled his eyes. "We didn't really associate much in our younger days, if you get my drift. Marcus was always far too high up in the social order to bother with his sad, little halfblood cousin."

"How come we never saw you at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"I studied at Durmstrang. Moved back to England not too long ago. My folks figured it would be safer what with all the...excitement in this part of the world."

Harry snorted. Excitement was one way to describe it, he supposed.

"Although, I did whine about not getting to see Harry Potter in person for three whole years," Skyler went on, grinning teasingly and nudging Harry in the ribs.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You didn't miss much, believe me."

"Agree to disagree," Skyler replied smoothly. Harry tried not to blush at the subtle flirting. Skyler did that sometimes. He wasn't sure if it was just playful teasing or a subtle hint, but he wasn't sure if he should try and find out. Not yet, at least. Thankfully, Hermione started her barrage of curious questions again.

"So, you're living by yourself?" she prodded again. She seemed the most interested and Harry wasn't sure if he was grateful or a bit wary about it. Hermione's interest in his social life was almost as bad as Blaise's, although admittedly less dangerous.

"I have a flat not too far from Flourish and Blotts," Skyler said. "I'm not exactly welcome at Flint Manor. But it's not bad. I have my privacy. My flatmate's hardly ever around, he moves around a lot. You might know him, actually. He's from Hogwarts too."

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

Skyler frowned thoughtfully. "He was in your year, I think. Do you know a..."

"No!"

Blaise's cry of horror startled Skyler into spilling his drink. Harry jumped in his seat and Ron dropped a chicken wing in his lap. Blaise wasn't interested. He was going over his checklist, frantically skimming it with an expression of dismay.

"The Ravenclaw Patil!" he moaned fretfully. "I forgot the twin!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Hermione scolded, handing Skyler a wad of napkins. "Blaise, we're in the middle of a conversa..."

"No time to chit chat!" Blaise snapped, surging to his feet. "My perfect score is in jeopardy! Oh wait, does it count if I shagged Parvati twice?"

"I still have four slaps left, you know," Ron added conversationally.

"Got it. No shortcuts. Blaise out!"

"Aaand he's gone," Hermione sighed, as Blaise Disapparated with a sharp crack.

"Of course he is," Ron grumbled, wiping himself off with a napkin. He straightened himself out and turned back to the table. "What were we talking about again?"

Hermione shrugged and Harry shook his head. The topic had been forgotten in Blaise's customary chaos. "I'll get the next round," Skyler announced. He squeezed Harry's shoulder as he got up and left for the bar. Harry stayed at the table and eyed his friends cautiously, waiting for the inevitable.

"No," he said firmly as soon as Hermione opened her mouth. "We're just friends. And he's too young. And I'm not bent."

"He's not too young," Hermione retorted impatiently. "Really, Harry. You talk like you're in your thirties."

Harry couldn't argue with that. Sometimes, he did feel quite old. So much had happened in his life. There were times when he thought he had literally seen it all, and then something else happened that turned things upside down again. If nothing else, the sodding butterfly tattoo should be testament to the fact.

"It doesn't matter," he told her firmly. "Even if I did find him attractive- hypothetically- and even if I did hypothetically like spending time with him..."

"You'd hypothetically ask him out," Ron finished. "Pass me another wing."

Harry glared and turned to him, ready to argue but Hermione beat him to it. "Harry, give us a break, will you?" She shook her head, looking utterly exasperated. "All you ever talk about is finding The One. The One this, The One that. Well, here's the thing. Maybe that boy is The One and you just can't see it because you've got this idea of how things should be. Did you ever consider that? Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe life doesn't always turn out the way we planned it?"

"But..."

"But nothing, Harry! Life is unpredictable. It's challenging and it's about taking on those challenges and moving ahead. I should not have to explain this to you, of all people."

Harry blinked, a bit caught off guard by the force of her tirade. "Ron?" he mumbled finally, turning to his friend.

Ron looked sympathetic but he shrugged. "Ginny's gone. She's not coming back. I know you think if you wait around enough, she'll return but that's the size of it, Harry. Is Skyler the one you're destined to be with? Probably not. But you're not going to find out unless you do something about it."

"That's not really advice," Harry said quietly.

"It wasn't meant to be," Ron replied. "You've got to do this on your own. You're a big boy now, Harry and you'll do okay. We raised you right."

Despite himself, Harry chuckled at that. His eyes drifted to the bar, Skyler caught his eye and smiled. Harry smiled back. They were right. He had to figure this out for himself.

"I think I'm going to talk to Skyler," he said softly.

Hermione nodded and squeezed his hand. "Good luck."

Harry got up and made his way over to the bar.

And that's the story of how Harry Potter asked a boy out.

In some ways, it wasn't as different and intimidating as he had imagined. For one thing, Ron was right. Nobody cared, no one even batted an eyelid as Harry officially 'came out' - which in the simplest terms meant letting Skyler put an arm around his waist in public. Of course, the Prophet ran a story but then Puddlemere United's Seeker was dismissed for use of illegal performance potions and suddenly there were much more newsworthy subjects to pursue. If there was one thing Harry had learnt over time in the magical world, it was that nothing - absolutely nothing-even came close to Quidditch on the priorities list. All in all, the outraged public was easily distracted and Harry's giant personal milestone met with minimal fanfare. Just the way he wanted it.

In other ways, it was very, almost terrifyingly different. Skyler felt different, obviously. Lines and angles where curves should be, traces of stubble instead of soft, smooth skin. But perhaps the scariest part of it was how much it intrigued Harry. How much he liked it. A small part of him still insisted that he liked girls and Skyler was just a phase but frankly, Harry was starting to suspect that he liked said girls just a little less than before. Skyler's kisses were more assertive, his hands moved confidently, knowing just where to touch Harry, just how to touch him.

And it was easier, too. Skyler was adventurous and willing to take the lead where Harry was hesitant. In this case, that was definitely a good thing. But he also reminded Harry a lot of Ginny. He talked fondly of saving up for University, studying abroad, seeing the world. It was all so reminiscent of his former relationship. So, Harry remained cautious. As much as he enjoyed the new experiences Skyler brought, he refused to make the same mistakes again. He was not going to get emotionally invested in something that was bound to end. He had learnt his lesson the hard way, but he had learnt. This was fun and new and interesting, but it would definitely end some day. Harry was perfectly aware of that.

It happened at one of their dinner dates.

"So long story short, they might let us have a real simulator for training sessions." Harry speared some pasta on his fork as he continued his story. "Of course, Dawlish would have to approve it first and he's already throwing a hissy fit over the budget but..."

"Do you want to go back to my place?"

Harry promptly dropped his fork. It fell with a sharp clatter that was summarily ignored as he gaped at Skyler's question. "What?"

Skyler leaned forward on the table. "I asked if you'd like to come to my flat tonight instead of just seeing me off at the door."

Harry swallowed slightly. "It's a bit...soon for that, don't you think?" he asked haltingly. "We've only been on a few dates and..."

...and he wasn't really sure he wanted to take things to the next level yet. Of course, he liked Skyler. He liked the kissing and the lingering touches and...he would be the first to admit that he wondered what it would be like to go further. But he wasn't really ready for that yet, was he?

Skyler smiled and shook his head. "Harry, do I have to remind you that technically we've already seen each other naked?"

"That absolutely did not count," Harry argued. "I was so drunk, I didn't even..."

"Yes, I remember," Skyler replied dryly. "Vividly. Believe me, there's no need to elaborate."

"Sorry."

Skyler sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Harry, I'm not pushing for anything, okay? If you're not ready, you're not ready. End of story. I just think we should spend some alone time together. We always end up in public places but do we really ever spend time just by ourselves?"

They didn't. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. In hindsight, he might have been avoiding spending alone time with Skyler. The truth was, it was nice and safe being out in public where things couldn't go too far. They went to pubs and the cinema and even the clubs sometimes, but he had never invited Skyler to his flat or vice versa. Had he really been doing this? Had he been avoiding letting things get too serious with Skyler?

He realised that he had. And maybe it wasn't just because of the gay thing. He did like the kissing, after all. No, it was something else. Maybe he just didn't want it with...well, with Skyler. They just weren't there yet. He wasn't there yet with Skyler.

"Harry, it's fine," Skyler insisted, placing a hand over his. "We don't have to make a big deal out of it. It's just...honestly, it's just sex."

And that was just the thing. That was exactly what he didn't want to do. He wanted something serious. Something real. Skyler was great but at the end of it, they weren't serious. It would be like Ginny all over again.

"I just don't think I'm ready yet," he said finally.

Skyler sighed and withdrew his hand. "It's fine," he replied. "I thought as much."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," Skyler told him. "You've got nothing to be sorry about, Harry."

They sat in silence and Harry absently batted a tomato around with his fork. He felt bad, like he had messed up somewhere. He had definitely hurt Skyler's feelings in the process. By running away from this. And he still wasn't ready for the real thing, but would he ever be if he never let anyone in?

"I'd still like to see your flat," he heard himself saying.

Skyler looked up from his plate, his surprised expression giving way to a slight smile. "Are you sure?"

"I'd like to spend some time alone with you," Harry said. "Even if it's just hanging out. I really do like you."

"I like you too, Harry," Skyler grinned. "Let's go then."

Harry allowed himself to be guided outside. "And relax a little," Skyler whispered. "My flatmate is around these days, so we won't be able to do much anyway."

They Apparated away and Harry refused to think about why that little bit of information left him with a sense of profound relief.

Skyler had a nice place, Harry noted. It was small but tasteful and definitely homey. He settled himself on the sofa as Skyler went about fixing the drinks. The faint noise of the shower sounded in the background. Skyler rolled his eyes. "Great, he's hogging all the hot water again."

The elusive flatmate, Harry presumed.

"Ron and I had a system when we lived together," he offered with a grin. "Whoever used up all the hot water gave up telly privileges for a week."

Skyler laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, that's not going to work with him. Besides, he's hardly ever here. He just got back from Brussels a week ago and now he's heading to Argentina, for some reason."

Harry's mouth twisted. "No place like Argentina," he muttered. Honestly, why was it so popular? What was wrong with Brazil, for example? Or Spain?

Skyler just rolled his eyes. "Weirdo. That's what I get for moving in with one of Marcus's schoolmates."

"Hey, we're not all bad," Harry protested with a teasing grin. "It's not our fault your prat cousin went to Hogwarts."

Skyler grinned and handed him a drink. "Well, I suppose that's true," he conceded, sitting down next to Harry and nudging his knee playfully. "You turned out alright, for instance."

They laughed and Skyler leaned in for a kiss, which Harry allowed. It was pleasant and nice and the shower in the background actually made for a soothing atmosphere. Harry was starting to relax a bit, and then something on the table caught his attention. Harry pulled away from Skyler, instantly interested.

"What's this?" he asked, picking the book up and flipping through it. He grinned happily as he recognized the cover. "You like Pablo Neruda?" Poetry was one of Harry's guiltiest pleasures and that was something Blaise should never find out, ever. But really, what were the odds that Skyler would enjoy the works of a Muggle poet too?

"Not mine," Skyler said, frowning at the book as if he'd never seen it before. "It must be his."

Ah. Well, at least the bloke in the shower had good taste in books. Harry replaced it and looked around, searching for something else that might catch his interest. His gaze immediately focused on the orange poster on the wall.

"You're a Cannons fan?" Harry asked eagerly. Now there's a dying breed. He had been absolutely certain that he and Ron were the only ones left.

Skyler smiled and shook his head. "Gods, no. I don't even like Quidditch. His again."

Okay, wow. Two for two then. This was starting to get a bit...

"And what do you think of this?" Skyler enquired, pointing at something in the corner. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the bass guitar.

"No way," he whispered, reaching over to check out the instrument. "You're in a band? Why have you never mentioned that? Merlin, that is..."

Skyler sighed and Harry groaned inwardly.

"...also his, isn't it?" he asked uncomfortably.

"He plays bass," Skyler explained. "Or at least he did the last time I checked. It's hard to keep track." His lips quirked and he shrugged. "I'm not really that into music."

"That's fine," Harry offered immediately.

"Is it?" Skyler asked. He sounded amused. "Harry, you picked the only three things in this room that belong to my flatmate. What does that tell you? Apparently, you have more in common with someone you've never met than with me." He laughed and shook his head. "Maybe I should introduce the two of you."

"No, Skyler," Harry protested. "I'm here with you, aren't I? So we don't have a lot in common. Why does that matter? We..."

"It's not that," Skyler cut in. "It's just...you've been through so much change lately, Harry. You got out of a serious relationship not too long ago. You're dating a man, for Merlin's sake. It has to be pretty overwhelming. And, put it anyway you like but the fact is we've known each other for a while now, and this is the first time you've ever come over to my flat. Face it. You don't really want to get close to me."

"It's a little more complicated than that," Harry argued weakly. "This is all just so new to me."

"Maybe that's the problem," Skyler replied softly. "You don't want me, you want a safe space while you come to terms with the changes in your life. I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't think I can do that for you. I can't be that bloke."

Harry really wanted to say it wasn't like that at all. That Skyler was wrong and they could be together and he wanted that. But he didn't. He wanted someone who would sit by the fireplace and read Neruda with him, someone who would celebrate with him in the unlikely event that the Cannons ever won a match, someone who would want the same things as him and raise a family with him and get him. And at this point, he didn't care if it was a bloke or a girl. But it had to be special. It just had to be all or nothing. That was the way he was and Skyler wasn't all or nothing. He was just somewhere in the middle.

He just wasn't The One.

And now Harry was going to be a royal prat to the poor bloke for the second time in a row.

He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to lead you on. It wasn't..."

"You didn't," Skyler said, squeezing his arm gently. "It's just not in the cards, that's all. We had a good run, Harry. For what it's worth, it was fun."

Harry smiled softly. It was. It really was. "Thank you," he replied. "For making this so easy."

"Don't worry about it, Harry. Just go figure yourself out. Maybe we'll meet again. You know, some day."

"I hope so. You take care."

There wasn't much else he could say. With a parting nod and a chaste kiss to the cheek, Harry turned to leave. The last thing he heard was the sound of the shower, still in the background and then he closed the door with a soft click and walked away.

Skyler sighed and flopped down on his sofa, absently Banishing Harry's empty glass to the kitchen. Honestly, he had seen it coming. At the end of it, Harry just wasn't that into him. He wasn't thrilled about it but it wasn't the worst feeling ever. Hell, at least he had been prepared for it...

"Skyler?"

The voice broke into his thoughts, startling him. Of course. He wasn't alone in the flat. He'd forgotten his flatmate in the light of Harry's departure.

"In here," he called back. "You used up all the hot water again, didn't you?"

Draco emerged from the shower, towelling his wet hair. "And then some," he replied smugly. He looked around and frowned. "Was someone here? I thought I heard voices."

"I brought a date home. It didn't go so well."

"Didn't put out?" Draco smirked. Skyler growled and tossed a cushion at him. Draco was rather decent for one of Marcus's old mates but Merlin, he could be a prat sometimes. "We broke up, I'll have you know," he informed said prat frostily. "And it was all your fault."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And what did I do?"

Skyler snorted. "Apparently, the two of you are soulmates. You even share the same taste in sappy Muggle literature and underperforming sports teams. Personally, I just find it astounding that you can actually complicate my love life straight from the comfort of your shower."

"You leave the Cannons out of this," Draco snapped defensively. "And 'soulmates'? That's a little extreme, don't you think? I didn't even meet the bloke."

"Perhaps you should," Skyler snapped sullenly. "You're obviously perfect for each other."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Tempting as that is, I'll take a raincheck. Argentina awaits and I have a Portkey that's only good for the next twenty minutes."

Skyler watched with mild interest as he shoved Neruda into a backpack. It always astounded him how Draco just took off for another country like he was taking a walk down the Alley. Honestly, his hair was still wet. "You're leaving tonight? I thought you'd stay for at least a week this time."

Draco smirked and shook his head. "There's not much keeping me here, Skyler. Or anywhere, really."

Skyler refrained from pointing out that there never would be unless he stayed put somewhere for more than a few days at a time. It was hardly his place to say. "Why do you even pay rent when you're not here half the time?" he asked instead.

"All my stuff is here," Draco replied nonchalantly.

And it gave him a reason to come back. To come home.

But that was something Skyler wasn't going to say out loud either. It was one of those unspoken rules between flatmates. You stayed out of each other's business. Besides, he had his own problems.

"Fine," he sighed, lolling back on the sofa. "Do what you want. Send me a postcard."

Draco laughed and picked up his Portkey. "See you in three months. Tell the soulmate I said hi."

Skyler half considered lobbing a cushion at him again, but Draco disappeared with a cheerful wave.

"Tosser," Skyler grumbled, glaring at his now flatmate free living room. Honestly, some days you just couldn't win.

~*~*~*~*~Present Day~*~*~*~*~

"Oh, come on!"

Scorpius threw his arms up in defeat, missing Al's face by mere inches. "Really?" he demanded incredulously. "Really?"

Personally, James agreed with the sentiment. "Dad, no!" he moaned. "He was right there. Father was right there! How could you miss it?"

Harry shrugged. "That's how it goes, kids. If I knew then what I know now..."

"This story would be over," Scorpius mumbled belligerently.

"Did anyone ever figure out where the pineapple came from?" Albus piped up. He bristled defensively as James gave him a flat look. "What? It's a valid question."

"All in good time," Harry placated. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Skyler and I parted ways amicably and the year went on. Everything was going smoothly, and then of course, it all fell apart."

~*~*~*~*~Year 4 (contd.)~*~*~*~*~

Harry decided that it was time to take a break from the dating scene. Of course, Blaise still insisted on dragging him to every club in the city, but Harry managed to keep a low enough profile. For now at least, he was content to observe and come to terms with his new...interests.

And now that he was really looking, he had to admit he was interested. Every once in a while, an attractive stranger would approach him, offer a drink or something. He declined politely but a part of him was eager to explore. It was freeing to know that he was getting his head around this. That he was finally moving on. But for once, he wasn't in the mood to rush into anything. That certainly hadn't worked in the past.

So, Harry took it easy. He went to work, passed training with flying colours and officially became a Junior Auror. He listened to Hermione gripe and groan about her job, finally lost patience and sat her down to look up the papers for other options. She was thinking about applying at a local Muggle pre-school and he thought it was a good idea. She'd make a fantastic teacher. He hung out with Ron and caught up on his friend's life, learned that he and Hermione were finally trying to start a family. The thought of having a little nephew or niece to fuss over thrilled him, almost as much as the idea of a child of his own. And above all, he thwarted all of Blaise's efforts to set him up with 'this guy from work'. Yeah, that was not happening.

In his spare time, he read. He did some research, thought about his life choices, what would happen if he did eventually settle down with someone of the same gender. He still wanted a family, but he was slowly coming to terms with the idea that there were other ways of getting there.

"I just don't know why I never considered adoption before," he told his friends over drinks. Hermione smiled and Blaise groaned and thunked his head on the table as Harry browsed through the pamphlets he'd collected over the last three months. "I mean, look at all this literature. Do you have any idea how many children there are in need of a good home? The numbers are just..."

"Kill me," Blaise whined. "This is my life now and I want one of you to end it."

"Blaise, stop it. This is important," Hermione chided. "Harry, I think it's wonderful that you're thinking about this. It's amazing what a little perspective can do."

Harry smiled. He had been so set on the idea of a family- in its most traditional sense- that he had forgotten the thing that mattered most. It wasn't about making a baby, it was about raising one. With someone you loved. Family could come from anywhere and anyone. And if he really thought about it, wasn't his life proof of that? The Dursleys were his 'real' family and they had done nothing but make him miserable for years. But the others, the ones that really mattered to him- Sirius, the Weasleys, Hermione and even Blaise - those were the people he counted on.They were his family. Why couldn't he have that some day? Why shouldn't he?

"I think it's brilliant," Ron agreed. He smiled and squeezed Hermione's hand. "We're still hoping for one of our own, though. I mean, can you imagine a kid that's a little bit of me and a little bit of Hermione? How awesome would that kid be?"

Hermione laughed. "Maybe we should change our last name to Awesome, just to be safe. Mr and Mrs Awesome, what do you think?"

"Has a nice ring to it," Ron grinned. "Hi, we're the Awesomes. Have you met our son Totally and our daughter Freakin'?"

Harry chuckled and Blaise eyed them blankly. "This is my life now." His eyes glinted with determination and he lifted his chin. "No. No, I do not accept this. I refuse to let this happen! We are young, attractive people and I am not going to sit around talking about babies all night. Why are we doing this? We're going to a club and we're going now!"

"We're not going to a club," Harry replied.

"New plan! We're going to get Harry laid!"

"Should've gone with the club," Ron put in.

Blaise however, was on a roll. He clamped an arm around Harry and all but dragged him to the bar. Harry groaned and dragged his feet, but a determined Blaise was not so easily thwarted. They were at the bar in record time, with Harry glowering and Blaise subtly scanning the Leaky Cauldron for a suitable target. His hawk like gaze settled on an unsuspecting bartender. "You!" he announced, pointing dramatically at the poor bloke. "Have you met Harry?"

Harry moaned in dismay and tried to extricate himself from his vice like grip. "Blaise, don't..."

The poor boy - Chad, Harry thought his name was - looked a bit caught in headlights. "Um, yes? You lot are here almost every night."

"Brilliant," Blaise grinned, pulling Harry over. "Be a good lad and get us a gin and tonic each. And then, I'll go away and you two can get to know each other better. In fact, why don't you give Harry here your Floo combination?"

"He's not going to give me his Floo combination," Harry snapped. He shook his head and gave Chad an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. He's just...well, we're not really sure yet but the Healers are trying their best."

Chad looked a bit alarmed. He nodded and hurried off, mumbling something about 'easier ways.
Blaise scowled at his retreating back. "Rude," he huffed indignantly. "Well, it's hardly an issue. That was just a warm up game. Don't you worry, Harry. Your wingman's on the case! We're going to get you laid or so help me Merlin..."

"Blaise, stop it," Harry snapped in exasperation. "You're scaring people. Just because I like blokes doesn't mean you can..."

"You what?!"

Harry whirled around and promptly dropped his glass. It shattered in a hundred pieces, and he barely even heard it.

Light brown eyes stared back at him, wide with shock. There was one word for the expression on Ginny's face and it was aghast.

Shite.

"Oh, hello Genevieve," Blaise greeted cheerfully. "Or should I say hola?"

Ginny ignored him, her wide, frozen gaze still trained on Harry. Harry could have sworn he felt the air being leached out of the room. The tension settled on him, stifling and heavy. He barely noticed when Ron and Hermione approached, looking harried and concerned. He could only stare at Ginny like a deer in headlights.

"Hey Ginny," Hermione began cautiously. "When did you..."

"Walk," Ginny said sharply. Her voice was shaky and her hand tightened around Harry's arm, pulling him forward. "Your flat. Now."

They left without another word. Ron and Hermione exchanged wary glances while Blaise cackled in delight. "Oh, he's a dead man," he chortled. "He is so screwed I can't even..."

SLAP!

Ron rubbed his stinging hand as Blaise went crashing to the floor. "That's two," he announced, calmly returning to his drink again.

To say that the walk back to Harry's flat was tense would be a massive understatement. Ginny stared straight ahead as she stomped down the street purposefully, Harry following close behind. Neither said a word and Harry was actually beginning to hope that they'd be able to get through this without turning it into a screaming match.

He was firmly disabused of this optimistic notion when Ginny barged in, slammed the door shut and turned on him.

"So you're gay now?!"

"So you're back now?" Harry belted back. He cringed almost instantly as a flash of hurt flitted over Ginny's face. But then her eyes glinted with anger and it was gone.

"It seems a lot changed while I was gone," she said coldly.

Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or yell at her. "No, you think?"

Ginny seemed at a total loss for words. She opened her mouth, shut it, shook her head and rounded up on him again. "Please tell me it's just a phase," she said finally. "Tell me you're not actually serious about men."

That undertone of shock in her voice made him angry. Really? She just showed up after six bloody months and she had the gall to question him?

"It's not a phase," he replied coolly. "I'm just figuring out some things and apparently, this is one of them. Thanks for the show of tolerance, though. Real classy, Gin. That's some solid 1920s stuff right there."

"Oh, get off your ruddy soapbox!" she snapped. "I'm not prejudiced. But I think I have the right to ask how the hell you suddenly decided you liked men the second I left!"

"The second you left? The second you left?" He could feel his temper spiralling, the anger hazing his mind. "Try three months, Ginny! Three months of missing you and wanting you and wishing you'd come back! Try turning my whole world right side up again until it made sense without you in it! You've been gone six months, do you realise that?! You didn't even look back! What gives you the right to..."

"I did look back!" she screamed. "What do you think I'm doing here? I left everything and came back and...and now I find out that you're bent and we're yelling in your apartment!"

"Well, maybe we should!" Harry howled. He was well past rage now. He was livid. "We never really did this, did we? No, we had a civil, cordial break up with the kiss goodbye and the let's be friends and we left out all the other crap! Maybe we should pick up where we left off and get it out of our systems! So, this is me yelling at you! Because damn it, it's long overdue!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

His ears were ringing as silence finally descended. Ginny was panting, her face was flushed and her eyes were still flashing. Harry's head was pounding and his throat felt dry and parched.

She was here. Now that they weren't yelling, he could actually process the fact that she was back, standing in front of him like she had never been gone. He had missed her so much and she still looked so beautiful to him. A part of him was still reeling at the thought. He thought he had closed this chapter of his life. But here, she was and it was like nothing had changed. But it had, hadn't it? Everything was different now. He didn't even realise that he was stepping back now, putting some distance between them. Ginny noticed though, and the look of hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. Harry groaned. This was so bloody confusing.

"Why are you here?" he asked finally. He didn't really understand anything right now, but this he needed to know. "What made you come back?"

For a second, her eyes flickered.

~*~*~*~*~Ginny's flashback: Buenos Aires, Argentina~*~*~*~*~

She hadn't planned to end up at a party tonight. Actually, she wasn't even sure how or when she'd ended up here. As far as Ginny recalled, she had planned to spend the night at her flat in Balvanera, going over the notes for tomorrow's broadcast. Alone. But then, the thought of going back to her dingy little studio apartment had seemed so depressing. The city, on the other hand was alive.

So, she took off.

Mar del Plata was crowded tonight. Then again, it was always crowded. She didn't even recall the name of the club she had stumbled into halfway through the night but as she danced to the pulse of the music and the flashing strobe lights, she didn't care.

It was better than nothing.

And that, Ginny thought dazedly, was exactly what she had right now. Nothing.

That wasn't a bad thing. Not really. She loved being out on her own. She loved Buenos Aires with its smoky restaurants and winding streets. She loved the colour and the vibrancy and the energy, the way the city just sucked you in. She loved getting lost in the hum of adventure, and she wouldn't give it up for the world. And if that meant giving up the life she had known to go after the unknown and the exciting, well that was fine. It was perfect. It was the dream.

But there were other things no one really considers before they set out on their own. She had forgotten what it was like to get lost in the crowd and bright lights of a big city. How strange everything seems at first when people all around you speak a different language. How quiet the nights get without someone to talk to. There were no cosy pubs on streets she knew like the back of her hand. There was no Ron with his cheerful smile or Hermione with an answer for everything. No Blaise with his ridiculous schemes to pick up girls. No Harry to smile at her or kiss her or...

She downed a glass of...something and staggered back to the dance floor. Immediately, a pair of hands reached around her waist, sliding over her hips. She hissed her displeasure. Not this again. This was the third time she'd had to extricate herself from some arsehole who'd had too much to drink. She tried to squirm away but the stranger's grip just tightened. An unfamiliar, slurred voice was whispering in her ear now, talking about a 'good time' and 'let's get out of here, mina'. Her stomach flipped unpleasantly and her head was reeling, and then suddenly the hands were gone, roughly shoved away from her body by someone else.

Ginny was pushed aside and she managed to steady herself against the wall. Wow, she really had a lot to drink. The whole place was a blur now, nothing but hazy lights and swirling colours. Somewhere she could even hear the sounds of an argument. She thought she might have something to do with that but she couldn't remember. And she was so dizzy...

"Didn't put anything in her drink,my arse," a sneering voice spat, somewhere from her...left, was it? "She's not going anywhere with you." A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders. Against her better judgement, she allowed the stranger to herd her out. The grip on her shoulders tightened- not enough to hurt but firm, nonetheless. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you out of here."

The next thing she heard was the sound of waves. The sand felt soft beneath her feet. Ginny frowned. Why was she at the beach again? Oh, yes...Mar del Plata. That was where was was. Why was everything spinning? Who was she walking with? What was he saying to her? She was so tired...

"No," her companion said, shaking her roughly. "Do not got to sleep. Weaslette, I'm serious! Stay awake. Eyes open. Come on, eyes on me now..."

She lolled against his shoulder, looking up at him with bleary, dazed eyes. Ruddy arsehole, shaking her so rudely. Ruddy blond arsehole...

"Go 'way," she mumbled, pushing at him. "Tired...wanna go home..."

"Damn it," he cursed. "Okay, just...just sit here."

She pouted as he gently set her down on the sand. This was not what she wanted. She didn't want to be stuck on the beach with some stranger a thousand miles away from home. It was all so weird and different and everything was wrong. Her throat was tightening and her eyes were prickling. Why? Why was it all so wrong? Why couldn't she just go home?

"You're going to cry now, aren't you?" he asked flatly.

Ginny started sobbing. She hid her face in her hands and just wailed. She was tired and confused and so far from anyone she knew, anyone who cared about her and now she was bawling her lungs out in front of a complete stranger and...

"Seriously? This again? Can I just get through one trip without a girl bawling in bloody public? Is that too much to ask for?"

He sounded annoyed and she had no idea what he was talking about. It just confused her more, so Ginny cried harder. Then she felt gentle hands tugging her hands from her face. He crouched down in front of her, looking worried. Did he look familiar? She thought he did but everything was still blurry...

"Stay calm. I've only done this spell a few times so I need to concentrate."

That was all the warning he gave her before taking out his wand. The spell hit her with considerable force, knocking the breath out of her. She gasped and coughed, eyes streaming. But by the time her vision cleared, she felt coherent again. Yes, it was definitely better. Not so fuzzy anymore and the ringing in her head had subsided. She looked up, intending to thank the stranger and promptly suffered another choking fit.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and pocketed his wand. "Ah, looks like it worked then. How are you, Weaslette?"

"M-malfoy?!"

Malfoy shook his head. "Is there a former Gryffindor in every country or am I just that lucky? Should I expect to run into Longbottom next?"

Ginny gaped, stunned into silence. There was literally no way that this could be happening. She was in Argentina, for Merlin's sake! Apparently, so was Malfoy. Because sometimes, life just couldn't get worse on its own...

Suddenly, she remembered that Malfoy had cast a spell on her. "What did you do to me?" she demanded, checking herself over. Oh Merlin, she really was losing it. Letting Malfoy anywhere near her with a wand...if she had lost her eyebrows or something, the git was going to pay!

Malfoy didn't seem particularly offended. "It doesn't really have a name," he replied. "Sort of a thought clearing charm, I guess. Think, opposite of Confundo. I'm still working out the kinks but it's good for a hangover."

"Why on earth would you make up a spell like that?"

"I've been friends with Blaise a long time."

Well, that explained it. Ginny sighed and flopped down on the sand, vaguely surprised that Malfoy was doing the same next to her. They listened to the waves breaking against the shore. Ginny fidgeted, feeling compelled to say something to fill the silence.

"Thanks," she muttered reluctantly. "For helping me out."

Malfoy waved her off and closed his eyes. "I'm used to it," he drawled. "By the way, did Granger make it home okay?"

Ginny frowned. "Yes," she replied warily. "How did you know she was away in the first place?"

Malfoy opened his mouth to reply. Then he shook his head and shrugged. "I keep in touch with Blaise," he replied. "He talks about you people a lot.It's very unsettling."

"Huh." She wasn't sure she believed that, but it probably wasn't that important. The thought of Blaise and his charming grin reminded her of home. Her throat clenched again. "I wonder what he's doing right now."

"Probably telling some poor, unsuspecting girl about the time he singlehandedly saved a herd of unicorns from a forest fire."

Ginny laughed. That did sound like Blaise. She could just see him making that play on some girl at the Leaky. With Mione rolling her eyes, and Ron and Harry making bets on how long it would take for him to get a drink in the face...

Her smile faded as she thought of Harry. What was he doing right now? Did he still think about her? Was he...was he with someone else now? Maybe a nice girl who wanted a family and wasn't stupid enough to let a guy like Harry Potter slip through her fingers?

For some reason, the thought made her eyes prickle painfully. Malfoy turned his head to look at her intently and she promptly averted her gaze. Mercifully, he didn't bring it up again.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject. "What brings you to this part of the world?"

Malfoy chuckled mirthlessly. "Depends on who you ask," he drawled. "My editor thinks I'm writing an exposé on the illegal potions market in South America. My band thinks I'm 'finding myself' and my father thinks I'm wasting my time. Between you and me, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here."

Ginny blinked. Did he say band?

"You've been busy," she managed. "How long have you been travelling around?"

"About four years," he replied quietly. He didn't sound particularly happy about it. If she didn't know better, she would think the look in his eyes was almost...wistful.

"Must be exciting," she suggested carefully. "Open roads, adventure, excitement. That's the dream."

He smiled, and this time she could tell it was bitter. "It's wonderful," he replied tonelessly, gazing out at the ocean. "Just fan-bloody-tastic." He stiffened suddenly, as if realising just who he was talking to. "What about you?" he asked, almost accusingly. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

Ginny pursed her lips. If he wasn't going to share, she didn't see why she should. "I needed a change of scenery," she replied tersely.

"Interesting. I could have sworn you were wailing about wanting to go home ten minutes ago."

And he was back to being Malfoy again. It was nice to know some things didn't change. Ginny stiffened defensively. "There's no need to be an arse about it," she informed him. "Also, I don't see how it's any of your business."

"You made it my business when I had to rescue you from Merlin-knows-what tonight." He turned to her again, and his speculative expression suggested that he knew what she was going through. It was an unsettling thought. "It's getting that bad, is it?"

"What are you talking about?" she snapped.

"You said it wasn't any of my business, remember?"

He looked so smug that she had half a mind to show him some spells of her own making. "Fine," she gritted out. "So maybe I was a bit upset. It just gets lonely sometimes."

"A 'bit'. Okay, sure. Whatever you say, Weaslette."

And now she was starting to see red. "You know, you're really an arse sometimes, Malfoy."

"And yet, you're still here," he replied smoothly. "All that adventure, all those open roads and you're hanging out on the beach with the last person you'd like to see under any other circumstances. It seems to me that you're more than just lonely. You're lost, and I just happen to be the closest thing to home you've seen in a long time."

When the hell did Malfoy get this insightful? "And you're not doing the exact same thing?" she snapped.

"Of course I am. But at least I admit it."

Was this what it was like? If she didn't stop running, would she end up like Malfoy? Lost and drifting, with nowhere to call home? No, she didn't believe that. She couldn't believe that. Maybe that's the way Malfoy saw it but...

"I don't want to get stuck," she whispered. "Things were getting so serious with Harry and he wants a family and...we said we'd do this together but then he didn't want to so I left. We just want such different things and...I miss him but what if I get stuck? What if I end up just raising kids? I don't want to lose my independence. I don't want to lose...me."

"And there's the difference between you and me," Malfoy drawled. "You still have something left to lose."

No, she didn't. She had nothing now. She had given up everything for this. "It is what it is. I can't get stuck in a relationship. I just can't."

"Gods, what is it with you Gryffindors?" Malfoy groaned. "Why is everything so 'all or nothing' with you people? It's not a test, you know. There's no right or wrong choice. It's just...god, it's life and for some reason, you lot insist on living just half of it."

"It's not that simple..."

"Oh, are we talking about 'simple' now?" Malfoy laughed shakily. There was no humour in it. "Let's do that. So you flit from place to place because you're afraid of 'getting stuck'. But here's the thing- you get to go home if you mess up. Even if you never want to, the point is it's there.Want to know why I'm here? I'm here because I don't get that choice. Ex Death Eater. Failure. Family disgrace. Take your pick. I don't get to go home. So please, don't talk to me about 'simple' when you actually have the privilege of choosing. You spoilt, entitled brat."

Ginny stared at him, a bit shell shocked. The sheer irony of being called a 'spoilt, entitled brat' by Draco Malfoy - what can you even say after something like that? So she just sat there, watching him as he looked out into the distance.

"Go home, Ginevra," Malfoy sighed wearily. He was looking at the ocean again. "The open road is better when you've got someone taking it with you, trust me. You have no idea how lucky you are."

He sounded so tired all of a sudden. So resigned. It made her insides twist. She didn't think twice before reaching out and squeezing his hand. Malfoy stiffened but he didn't pull away.

"We all get to go home, Malfoy," she told him. She thought she meant it.

"I don't."

"I think you're wrong. I think if you stopped running and actually looked back, you'd be surprised. But you're scared to find out, so you just keep running instead."

Just like her.

Ginny could have laughed. To think she had to travel to the other end of the world to find something in common with Draco Malfoy. Sometimes, life was just plain mental.

"I'm too far out to look back. If I did, I wouldn't see anything worth coming back for." Malfoy got up and dusted himself off. "Try not to make the same mistake, Weaslette. And don't worry so much. If it's adventure you want, I'm sure it will find you. Just one of the perks of being within ten feet of Potter."

She let him haul her up. He looked...softer than she remembered. Not in any physical sense, no. He was still all lines and angles, with the sharp chin and high cheekbones. But his eyes were different. There was the slightest curve to his mouth, suggesting the hint of a smile. It was better, she decided. He was better. And for some reason, she was worried about him.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know. Get an empanada, maybe?"

She rolled her eyes. "I meant about going home, Malfoy."

"Oh, that. Maybe someday."

He didn't sound too convincing. Perhaps, it really was over for him. It was a sad thought. "Well, at least drop by some time," she said finally. "I mean, it's not all bad. Quidditch Season is still the best thing ever, even if the Cannons lose every single time."

Malfoy grinned at that. "I'll make you a deal. I'll come back to your neck of the woods for good...when The Cannons win the Cup."

Great. Another Cannons fan. As if Ron and Harry weren't enough. "So, that's a 'never' then," she replied dryly.

Malfoy tutted disapprovingly."Ye of little faith."

Ginny laughed. "Now you sound like Harry.

Her smile widened as Malfoy shuddered theatrically. "As good a time as any to take my leave," he said. "Take care of yourself, Weaslette."

He started walking away, leaving nothing but a pair of footprints in the sand. She watched in silence as the waves washed them away. Suddenly, she didn't want him to fade away. Not like this.

"When the Cannons win, Malfoy," she called to his retreating back. "We made a deal!"

"Careful, Weaslette," he called back. "Or I might start thinking you like having me around."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Malfoy laughed. He waved a goodbye and Disapparated, leaving her alone on the shore.

No, not alone. Ginny smiled to herself as she started the long way home.

~*~*~*~*~End of Flashback~*~*~*~*~

"Ginny?"

Harry's voice startled her and she blinked at him. "Sorry," she mumbled. "What was the question again?"

Harry sighed and repeated himself. "I asked why you came back. What made you return home?"

"Does it matter?" Ginny demanded. "I just realised that all the things I thought I wanted aren't good enough without...without the people I care most about." She looked up at him, tears in her brown eyes. "I missed you so much, Harry."

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. He didn't want to admit it but...

"I missed you too," he whispered. "This has been hard, Ginny. I wish you'd stayed."

"I'm here now." Her hand reached out to touch his cheek. Harry resisted the urge to lean into that delicate touch. He had missed it. He had missed her voice and her smile. It had just hurt so damn much.

"Harry, I'm back," she said fervently, almost frantically. "I missed you, I love you. Can't we just...can't we go back to being us again?"

And Gods, wouldn't that be the easiest thing? Wouldn't it be just perfect to hold her close and kiss her and go back to being them? To get the Happily Ever After he wanted with her? It would be so easy. So perfect.

"I can't tell you how long I've waited to hear you say that," he said. "It's all I've wanted for so long."

"Oh, Harry..."

"But we can't, Ginny."

His heart sank as her hand dropped. Her eyes clouded over and filled with tears again. "What?" she whispered. "Why?"

"There's no us anymore," Harry said heavily. "We can't go back to the way things used to be."

"But..."

"Ginny, we can't just pretend you didn't leave, that you didn't go away. You had your reasons for it and the thing is, I'm not really sure they've changed."

"Harry, don't do this." Her voice was trembling now and it made his heart break. Why couldn't it be easier? Why couldn't it be her? "A long time ago, you told me that you would do whatever it took, so long as we could be together. You told me we could do this my way. You told me that would never change. Well, I'm here now, Harry. I'm here and I love you and I'll do whatever it takes, so long as we're together. We can be together, Harry. We can have it all again."

"You can't promise that!" Harry snapped. "Don't you remember how that story ended? You left and I couldn't find it in myself to go with you. I couldn't do whatever it takes and I shouldn't have promised I would. You shouldn't either."

"What are you saying?"

He sighed heavily. "I'm saying that I wish you hadn't left, Ginny. No one would be happier than me if we could just go back. But things have changed. I think I'm finally starting to understand what I need. I don't...I can't live just half my life anymore. And I don't want you to either. We can't make each other happy and it's time to face it."

"Harry, no! It's different now. I..."

"Ginny, just answer a question for me. Do you want to settle down and raise a family with me? Do you want that even a little bit? Can you bring yourself to want those things for me? With me?"

Her silence told him everything. "You don't," Harry muttered. His mouth twisted in a pained smile and he shook his head. "How can we be together when we don't even want the same things?"

She swiped angrily at her eyes. "I once knew a boy who was willing to do whatever it took to be with me. I came back looking for that boy. But he's not here anymore, is he Harry?"

"He changed," Harry replied. "I can't settle on this, Ginny. I want it too much. I'd like to think that after all this time, I deserve it. We both do."

"I see." Her voice was cold, toneless. It made something inside him clench painfully. This was it. This was goodbye.

"You're still the best thing that ever happened to me, Ginny. I just can't...I can't love you anymore. It's too late for us."

She laughed shakily. "You've made that amply clear, Harry. Please, excuse me."

He watched her retreating back helplessly as she turned away from him. The sound of the door slamming echoed in the silence of the flat. She was gone again, maybe for good. And this time, he had pushed her away.

Things became tense and uncomfortable for Harry-as they often did whenever Ginny was in the picture. Even Blaise didn't have anything clever or inappropriate to say when those awkward silences descended at the bar.

Ginny refused to say more than two words to Harry. The tension between them was growing every day. She blamed him for not even trying to work things out, while he was firmly of the opinion that they had already tried and it just wasn't enough.

Meanwhile, poor Ron and Hermione were caught in the fray. It was hard for them not to take sides. Ron especially, sympathised with his sister's point of view.

"When she was gone, you wanted her back more than anything," he told Harry when they got a moment alone. "And now she's back, and you're backing out. Sorry, Harry. I just...I don't understand. I want to, but I don't."

"Ron, try to see it my way, will you?" Harry implored desperately. "What am I going to do if she just up and decides to take off somewhere else again? Hell, what am I going to do if she stays and resents me for tying her down? Can't you see it? We'd make each other miserable. It's not enough and I just think we're better off going our own way."

Ron sighed and his shoulders slumped. He looked pretty miserable himself. "Do you remember what I said when she first moved here? Four years ago? I told you it was a bad idea to start this whole thing in the first place. We all told you that. You didn't listen. You had this whole romantic idea about walking off into the sunset with her. And now look where we all are. You could have just listened to me then, you know. Maybe then..."

Maybe then his sister wouldn't be heartbroken. Maybe he wouldn't have to choose between two people he cared about deeply.

He didn't say as much but Harry could hear it in the heaviness of his voice. It hurt. "Sometimes love is not enough," he replied quietly.

"No," Ron muttered, shaking his head. "No, it's not. Hermione taught me that. It's not just about loving each other. You've got to be there, you've got to want to be there for each other. You have to want to make sacrifices to keep each other happy, to keep the team going. You and Ginny never did figure that part out, did you? You were a great couple but a lousy team."

Sometimes, Harry suspected that Ron was smarter than all of them together.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I really am."

"Me too," Ron sighed. "Just...I'll see you later, yeah? It's been a long day."

Ron walked away from him that day, and Harry knew things had changed forever. Somehow, everyone had found their place and he had been left behind. Ron and Hermione were still trying to have a baby and Ginny was taking up her old job at the WWN office and Harry was still where he had been, four years ago.

Sulking in the bar with Blaise.

"So what play should we run tonight?" Blaise drawled, eyeing a lithe brunette in the corner. "Ooh, how about the old famous Quidditch player from an obscure part of the world and his talent agent ploy? How good is your Romanian?"

"Or you could just talk to her," Harry replied dryly. "You know, like a normal human being."

Blaise scoffed. "See, now you're starting to sound like my therapist. What's the point of playing the game if you're not going to 'play the game'? Huh? You and Healer Bernstein get back to me on that one."

Harry laughed and shook his head. At least he could always count on Blaise's customary brand of mayhem to distract himself from his problems. "Can I ask you something? What do you plan to do if you actually win the game? What if you find your one true love and...that's it? Game over, here's your trophy, go home. Because I think you might just self destruct or something."

"Honestly," Blaise grumbled. "Do you listen to me at all? No, don't answer that. See here's the thing, Harry. I'm not like you. You're all romantic and sappy and oh, she's the one and oh, he's the one. No offence, but that is so gay."

"Why is it that every time you say 'no offence' you end up being offensive?"

"Now me," Blaise carried on without preamble. "I'm a hunter. I see a target and I go for it. If I employed your strategy...no wait, this calls for a demonstration." He frowned and looked around. Before Harry could do or say anything, he was approaching the brunette.

Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or wince in sympathy for the poor girl as Blaise took her hand. "You," he intoned solemnly, looking deep in her eyes, "are the love of my life. Everything I have and everything I am from this day forward is yours. For the rest of my days."

"Oh," the girl gasped, practically swooning in his arms. "That is so..."

"Easy, sweetheart. I was just making a point," Blaise drawled. She huffed and shoved him off and he returned to Harry's side, grinning smugly. "See? Too damn easy. The game is fun and awesome and..."

"Pointless?"

"Yes," Blaise conceded. "But so is life. Now, are you getting the next round or not?"

Harry shook his head and placed an order at the bar. As he clinked glasses with Blaise and helped him scope out a more acquiescent companion, he decided that it wasn't so bad. At least he would always have one bloke in his corner. Even if he was barking mad and morally reprehensible. Details, details...

"The usual?"

Harry turned and raised an eyebrow as Chad the bartender approached with a shy smile. He handed over the drinks and a scrap of parchment with his owl address on it.

Harry grinned back. No, not so bad at all.

A few days later...

Ron scowled as he skimmed the Prophet."The Cannons lost to the Falcons. Again," he whined miserably. "Final score, 200 to nothing! Why Galvin Gudgeon, why?"

"I could have told you that without reading the paper," Ginny teased. She grinned as Ron groaned and slumped forward, thunking his head against the table.

"They're never going to win," he grumbled sullenly. "I should just switch to Puddlemere."

"Oh, you never know," Ginny smirked, buttering a slice of toast. "Maybe someday."

Fingers crossed, anyway.She wondered if Malfoy was still in Buenos Aires...

"So, how's work?" Ron asked suddenly. "You're settling in alright?"

"It's okay," Ginny replied between mouthfuls of toast. "It's nice to be back on the home front. I was getting tired of everyone speaking Spanish all the time."

Ron smiled and wrapped a brotherly arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you're home," he told her sincerely. "I missed you."

Ginny smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately. "And I missed you, Ronniekins. A lot."

They sat in that comfortable silence that only siblings ever seem to manage. Ginny smiled and leaned on his shoulder. It was nice being home. It would still be a while before she and Harry managed to be in the same room together, but at least she had her brother and Hermione. At the end of it, you could always count on family. You could always count on coming home...

Just then, Hermione emerged from the bedroom. Ron sat up expectantly but she shook her head. "Blue again," she sighed.

"Great," Ron sighed. "More good news."

"What's blue?" Ginny enquired curiously.

Hermione sat next to Ron, leaning into his chest. Ginny couldn't help but notice how his arms wrapped around her instinctively, offering comfort. A part of her wondered if she and Harry had ever had such a comfortable relationship. Honestly, she couldn't really remember...

"Hey, what's going on?" she asked again. They both looked so downcast. She was starting to feel concerned.

"It's a spell," Ron explained heavily. "For...you know..."

"The Healers got sick of me coming in every week for new tests," Hermione supplied, as her husband trailed off uncomfortably. "So, I did a little reading and found a spell." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at her stomach, murmuring an incantation to soft for Ginny to hear. A shimmering blue orb floated out from the end of Hermione's wand, hovering over her.

"Let me guess," Ginny said. "Blue means no baby yet."

Hermione smiled wistfully. "We were hoping for red," she replied. Her eyes met Ron's and she squeezed his hand. "We've been hoping for a long time."

Honestly. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Look, don't make a big deal of it," she told them firmly. "You're going to have kids. You two have parents written all over you. Just try to be patient and focus on other stuff. It will happen when it happens."

"And you're the baby expert now?" Ron teased. "What are you going to do when you see your new nephew or niece? Run away screaming or cower in a corner?"

Hermione laughed and Ginny punched his shoulder. "I am not afraid of babies," she informed him. "And I'll have you know that I'll adore my nephew or niece on general principle. I love Victoire, don't I?"

"You see Vicky once a year," Ron grinned. "And let's not forget the Babysitting Disaster of 2004."

"The kid was babbling in French!" Ginny protested. "How was I supposed to know who Monsieur Smokey is?"

Ron burst into laughter and Ginny threw another cushion at him. It had taken hours to convince little Vicky that Aunt Ginny hadn't meant to forget her precious stuffed dragon at the park. Ron still found it hilarious, the prat.

"Face it, little sister," Ron grinned. "You're just not good with kids."

"Shockingly, I think I can live with that," Ginny replied flatly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going home."

"Join us for dinner?" Hermione asked hopefully. "It's movie night."

Movie night. Ginny's smile faltered a bit. It had been a tradition for so long. Their little group, curled up on the sofa every Thursday (since Blaise threw a tantrum if they didn't all go out on Friday night) watching a slew of awful films. Ron and Hermione would take one end of the sofa, she and Harry would settle on the other end and Blaise would whine about being relegated to the floor. He never missed one though. None of them had. It was one of those unspoken rules in their little group.

But things were different now. It would probably end up with her and Harry on opposite ends of the room, avoiding conversation and tripping over what to say to each other. Nobody needed that.

"I think I'll pass," she replied. "You guys have fun. Tell Harry I said hi."

She turned and left before they could protest, but she didn't miss the look of disappointment on Hermione's face. It hurt to be left out but it was for the best. It hadn't escaped her notice that Harry and Ron didn't hang out much anymore, and she wasn't stupid enough to think that she had absolutely nothing to do with that happy state of affairs. She wasn't sure she wanted to see him yet but the fact remained that they shared the same friends. They would just have to work around it and if that meant missing movie night once in a while, fine. She could live with that.

So, that left her evening free. Ginny sighed as she nudged open the door to her own flat and promptly headed for the telly.

A flick of the remote revealed that nothing even remotely interesting was on. Finally, she settled on a Spanish soap opera. Ginny grinned to herself. These shows had become something of a guilty pleasure during her lonely evenings in Buenos Aires. Apparently, they were pretty popular. She had definitely seen this one before...

Ooh, it was getting pretty dramatic. Ginny leaned forward in anticipation as the shapely woman on the screen burst into tears. Her boyfriend or lover or whoever he was made a dramatic exit. Ginny tried in vain to follow the storyline. Something about a baby?

"Oh, perfect," Ginny groaned. Yes, there was definitely a kid involved. The woman was cradling an infant now, smiling through her tears. Ginny made a face and changed the channel.

Really, what was this obsession with babies? First Hermione, now Consuela...was there no escape?

She twirled her wand absently in her fingers as her mind drifted back to the spell Hermione had shown her. Ginny smiled slightly, wondering if she would be around when it turned red. Of course, there was always the chance that she'd be gone by the time it finally happened but it would be nice to have a little one to coo over - so long as she didn't get stuck changing diapers. The thought of Ron changing diapers made her giggle.

It was a random impulse. She wasn't even sure why she did it. Perhaps she was curious. Or just bored. Whatever it was, the next moment she found herself casting Hermione's spell on herself. Her wand sparked and she waited for the blue orb to hover over a stomach. Instead, Ginny frowned in confusion as she realised...

...there was nothing.

Ginny blinked. That was weird. She cast it again, waiting for the blue orb to show. Again, nothing. What in the world...? What was that supposed to mean? Okay, one more time. Something uneasy prickled the back of her neck as the blue stubbornly refused to show. Was she casting it wrong? No, she didn't think so. But then, why wasn't it blue? What was a lackof light supposed to mean?

Was there...was there something wrong with her?

Ginny got up shakily and made her way to the Floo. "St. Mungo's," she said firmly, trying to keep her voice from shaking a bit. No, she was being ridiculous. It was nothing. It was probably nothing. She would find out soon enough...

"St Mungo's front desk, can I help you?"

"Healer Bones, please," Ginny replied. Her Healer would have some answers, she was quite sure of it.

"Please hold. I'll put you through," the Mediwitch replied.

Ginny waited impatiently as the image shifted. Susan Bones peered at her from the flames, looking concerned. "Oh hello, Ginny. What's this about? I thought your regular check up was next..."

"I have a problem," Ginny cut in. Quickly, she explained the situation. With every passing moment, Susan's expression grew more and more concerned. Ginny's pulse hammered and she had to resist the impulse to scream at the woman and demand answers. Instead, she finished up the story as quickly as she could.

"Ginny, I'm going to have to move our appointment up a few days," Susan finally announced. She was trying to sound gentle and reassuring. It wasn't working. Ginny swallowed as Susan pursed her lips. "Can you come through right now?"

Ginny nodded shakily and stepped through the Floo.

A week later...

"No," Blaise moaned. "No, Loki! Look behind you!"

"Blaise, for the last time. Loki is the bad guy," Harry replied, suppressing a grin. It always amused him how much Blaise enjoyed movie night, despite all his vehement protests.

"He's not 'the bad guy'," Blaise informed him haughtily. He sounded rather offended on Loki's behalf. "He's misunderstood. Not everything is in black and white, Harry."

Harry gave up and helped himself to some popcorn. Hermione nudged his shoulder. "How was your date with Chad?" she asked softly.

Harry shrugged. "Fine," he replied. "He's nice. But I don't think it's going anywhere."

He's got a talented mouth on him, though.

Harry suppressed a rather immature snicker. He doubted Hermione would want to hear that.

"Big surprise," Ron mumbled. He shook his head and went back to the film. "Come on, Stark! Take him down!"

"Ugh." Blaise gave up and sprawled on the rug.

"You know," Hermione told him. "There's room on the sofa for one more."

"No," Blaise replied in a clipped tone. He didn't even bother looking back. He just kept his eyes trained on the screen. "That's Ginevra's spot. I'm sure she'll want it back when she joins us."

The genial, comfortable atmosphere dissipated.

"She's missed two movie nights in a row," Ron sighed.

"I haven't heard from her all week," Hermione added quietly. "Have any of you?"

They shook their heads and Harry shifted uneasily. The comfortable atmosphere had all but disappeared in the wake of Blaise's statement. That was happening a lot these days. They would hang out, having a perfectly nice time until someone would inadvertently bring up Ginny again. And then things would get awkward. Harry was getting a bit tired of it, really. He was fully aware that Ginny was skipping out on movie night so he could be there. He had returned the favour by cutting out Sundays at The Burrow so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. It was starting to feel like joint custody and he was sick of it. Clearly, his friends were too.

"Well, I don't know about you lot," Blaise said firmly. "But I think she should be here. If I don't get to miss this deplorable excuse for an evening, then she shouldn't either."

"It would be nice to have her back," Hermione said. Her questioning eyes drifted to Harry. "I think we all miss her."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes," he said quietly. "We do."

Ginny should be here. She had always been didn't want lose his friends because of her, and he certainly didn't want to lose heras a friend. It was just too much history to walk away from. Maybe...maybe it was time to set this right.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "Let's go get her then."

"Finally!" Blaise exclaimed happily. He got up and dusted himself off. "I'll do the honours. No offence, Harry but she likes me better these days."

"None taken," Harry grinned, as he strode off for the Floo.

Blaise gave him a parting nod and a wink, and stepped into the fireplace.

"Genevieve, you in here?"

Ginny started as the cheerful voice rang out, slamming her back to reality. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her head against the wall. She should have put the wards up when she had the chance. Now she would have to explain herself to Blaise of all people, and she wasn't really sure she could do it. The test paper from St Mungo's crumpled as her fist tightened. She refused to think about why she hadn't put them down since Susan handed them over.

"Where are you?" Blaise sounded concerned now. He wasn't going to give up and leave. He wasn't built like that. But she could send him away.

Ginny took a deep breath and called out. "In here."

Blaise padded over and poked his head in the door. "What are you doing here in the dark?" he demanded, approaching faster now. "Why is...Ginny, are you okay? Hey, talk to me."

And say what? That she finally knew there was something wrong with her? That a part of her had always known there was something missing? Her eyes prickled again and a small sob escaped her throat.

"Shite."

She felt him crouching next to her, moving slowly as to not frighten her. A hysterical giggle threatened to escape her. Who knew Blaise could be that considerate?

"Look at me." His voice was urgent now, worried and anxious. He tipped her chin up gently, his dark eyes trained on her. "What happened?" Blaise demanded urgently. "Tell me what's wrong. We'll fix it, I promise."

"You can't," she said quickly, trying to pull away. Gods, Blaise shouldn't have seen her like this. Now she would never hear the end of it.

"I can try," he replied firmly. "I'll admit this isn't my area of expertise. I'm usually a lot more adept at being the reason women cry. At least that's what my mother always says and..."

"You're rambling," Ginny informed him.

"Is it helping?" His tone was half joking, half hopeful and despite all odds, it made her laugh a little. It was nice to know he cared. Odd, maybe. But sweet. Merlin knows she could use it right now...

"A bit," she conceded. "I don't feel like the most messed up person in the room anymore."

Blaise chuckled. A deep laugh that seemed to reverberate through the room. That was nice too, Ginny thought. No wonder so many women jumped into bed with him...

"That's what I like about you," he told her, sounding almost fond. "Even when you're wrecked, you're feisty."

"Thanks," she retorted. "Most people think I should 'tone down the sass'. At least that's what Mum always says."

"No," he said firmly. "Don't ever do that. Never lose the spark. It's brilliant."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that but Blaise wasn't really looking for an answer. He just sat there with her, showing an uncharacteristic level of patience.

"You should go," she mumbled, looking away again. "I'm fine, really."

"Are you?" Blaise asked quietly. "Because you know you can always talk to me."

Could she? She hadn't really known they had that kind of relationship. Blaise was the boy who cooked up crazy schemes to pick up poor, deluded girls at bars. He was the boy she cheered on, the one she engaged in a well thought out plot with when the mood struck her. He was the one who shared her mischief. But was he her friend? She supposed they had become friends somewhere along the line. But that didn't matter. She couldn't talk to him about something he couldn't understand. Hell, she didn't understand it herself.

"I can't have kids."

Apparently, she was going to talk about it. Blaise stiffened next to her, mirroring her reaction. He turned to face her slowly, as if expecting her to get up and bolt. She didn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and handed him the test results. "I got them a few days ago," she told him. "The Healer said something about 'irregular hormone cycles' and 'three in a hundred women'...I wasn't listening. The point is, I'm not going to have a kid. Ever."

The papers fluttered from his fingers. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am. But I thought..."

"That I never wanted kids?" Ginny managed a choked, bitter laugh. "I guess not. Doesn't really explain why I've been crying about it for three days. I guess, it would have been nice to...to have the option."

She was crying again. The more rational part of her was annoyed. Very annoyed, really because well...was this so terrible? Hadn't she always said she wouldn't tie herself down? She had been so determined, so outspoken about not wanting this, never wanting this.

Was that...was that why this had happened? Had the choice been taken from her because in the end, deep down she knew she wasn't good enough to be a mother? Was there just something missing inside her, something that couldn't be fixed? Clearly, there was. It was right there in those test results scattered around the...

"No. No, you can't think like that."

Ginny jumped slightly. She hadn't even been aware that she was talking out loud. This was happening a lot tonight. And then just as suddenly, Blaise's arms were around her at once, pressing her into his chest, running gently down her back. He held her carefully, as if she were something fragile. And that should annoy her, at least upset her. But it didn't. Blaise knew she wasn't some damsel in distress. He had told her that so many times. He, of all people, wouldn't judge her for this. She pressed herself into his warmth, holding on to him for dear life.

"Gods, why would you think that?" Blaise demanded, sounding anguished about it. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"You can't s-say that," she sobbed, curling her fingers in his shirt. And suddenly, the words were mingling with her tears, flowing from her despite her best efforts to control them. How could he say that? There was something wrong with her. There had to be. Why else would...maybe this was why she and Harry hadn't worked out in the end. She couldn't give him what he wanted, not in any sense of the word...

"No. No, that is not...damn it, Ginny! Look at me!" He cupped her face in his hands, compelling her to meet his eyes.

"Don't do this," he pleaded. "I don't think I can take it. You're the strongest, smartest, most fascinating woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing. There isn't another one who compares and believe me, I've looked. You can't make this your fault. Things happen. Sometimes, life...doesn't turn out as planned. But never doubt for even a moment that you are wonderful. You are absolutely amazing and you deserve to have everything you desire."

"But..."

"Ginny."

He was so close now, his thumbs gently brushing the tears from her cheeks. His eyes were soft and the look in them was intense...she would swear up and down that she had never seen him look at another girl like that. And Blaise looked at a lotof girls. He was only looking at her now, and she suspected that if the flat fell down to pieces around them right now, he probably wouldn't notice. He wouldn't stop looking at her.

"You never saw me before," she whispered. Later, she would wonder why out of all thing things to say, that came to mind.

But Blaise just smiled. "I saw you the moment you walked into our lives," he told her. "You're just that beautiful."

She kissed him. Oh, it was a bad idea. She knew it was. For a second, she even thought of Harry. But Harry wasn't hers anymore, was he? They were done and now she could feel that chapter of her life close with absolute certainty. There would never be any going back. But Blaise was here. This boy who never had time to spare for any girl...hewas here, with her. He wanted her; he chose to be here with her. Offering comfort and his presence and the friend she hadn't known she needed. She didn't want him to go. Not now. She needed him too much. So she kissed him, feeling his lips move against hers, his strong, warm hands slip to her waist and...

And then he pushed her away. "No," he muttered. His voice sounded strangled, like the effort was genuinely painful. "That's not what I was trying to..."

"I know," she replied, trying to move in to his hold again. "I just want..."

"You don't have to. I'll stay with you anyway. It's not...you're more than that, you understand? I'm not trying to..."

"I know," she told him again, firmer this time. "I know but I want to." It had been so long since someone had been there, made her feel safe...and if it was Blaise, then that was fine. All she knew was that he was here for her and that was something she had missed.

"You don't," he snapped. His expression was guarded and wary, his tone was bitter. "You're just...upset. Or something. I may be a bastard but I'll be damned if I try to take advantage of you like this and..."

He made a frustrated noise in his throat when she cut him off with another kiss. It was kind of endearing, and she couldn't stop a smile when he pried her off again. "You never saw me before," he repeated her words, sounding almost accusing.

"I know," she whispered, leaning in again. "That's my bad."

This time, he didn't pull away. It was hesitant and wary but eventually, that chaste kiss deepened into something else, something richer and more intense that she had ever experienced. His hands slid around her back, large and strong but strangely gentle. Ginny hummed in approval as those questing hands dipped lower, still cautious. He was still holding back, giving her what she needed and trying not to push her. He was being gentle with her. The thought made something inside her clench painfully. It was...different. Something new and strange and unexpected. But with Blaise holding her tenderly and kissing her and wanting her, she couldn't bring herself to think of it as bad...

And then it all stopped. Blaise faltered. He jerked away, violently this time. Ginny's eyes fluttered in surprise and she looked up at him. His gaze was trained on the door...

"Shite," he whispered.

Ginny turned around. She barely caught a glimpse of Harry's furious expression and the grim, tight line of his mouth. Before she could so much as register how incredibly awful this looked, Harry sneered and slammed the door shut.

"Shite," Ginny echoed. Oh gods. Oh Merlin, this was bad...

Blaise shouldered past her and walked away briskly, slamming the door as he left. Ginny stared after him, standing alone in her empty flat. When she finally managed to shuffle out and slump down on the sofa, she couldn't say if hours had passed or mere minutes.

All she could think of was that she had seen something snap inside Harry in those brief two seconds. And she had a feeling that it was the last line holding all of them together.

Harry's stomach roiled as he hurtled down the stairs, taking two at a time. There was a good chance he would trip and break his neck, but he didn't really think he cared much. He wasn't even sure where he was going, once he headed out of the building complex and into the street. All he knew was that he had to get away, away from the sight of Blaise and Ginny wrapped around each other. His stomach turned again and his eyes prickled. He should have seen it coming, really. He should have known this would be what he would find when he went to check up on them. It was his own fault. This is what he got for being friends with a slippery, sleazy son of a bitch like...

"Harry! Damn it! Harry, wait!"

Harry whirled around and Blaise skidded to a halt, probably on pure instinct. He righted himself, still panting slightly as he held his hands out in a placating gesture. "It's not what you think," he blurted.

Harry laughed. It was a bitter laugh and it cut through him. "So, what's the score?" he asked. "Where does Ginny figure on your little black book? Or have you lost count? Hey Blaise, have you won the game yet?"

Blaise flinched slightly. But then his eyes narrowed and he drew himself up. "It wasn't like that," he growled. "You don't even know what..."

"One girl!" Harry snarled, unable to handle it any longer. "One girl, Blaise! That's all you needed to stay away from but you couldn't even do that, could you? Gods, can you even help yourself at this point?"

Blaise's expression went from contrite to hurt to furious so quickly, Harry would have missed it if he had blinked. "What do you care?" he sneered. He looked so much like the arrogant entitled Slytherin he had known at Hogwarts that Harry almost punched him on general principle. "You're done with her, remember? You can't even be in the same room as her anymore! So why does it matter if I..."

"What? It's your turn now? Is that how this works in your sick, twisted head?"

"Don't talk about her like that!" Blaise yelled, leaning in aggressively. "It wasn't like that! We..."

"You know what? You're right," Harry broke in. "I am done with Ginny. I don't get a say in what happens in her life anymore. But that's her and me. You were different. You were supposed to be my friend! You were not supposed to jump at the chance to shag my ex-girlfriend the second you could! This is what I get for trusting sodding Slytherins, isn't it? You're just..."

"Enough!" Blaise snarled. "Is that what this is then? I'm just the sleazy Slytherin who doesn't have a worthy bone in his body? Is that what I mean to you?"

"Well, you haven't exactly proved otherwise, have you?" Harry yelled back. "With your schemes and your plans and your...your incessant need to shag everything that walks! Why Ginny? Why did you have to go after Ginny?"

"I didn't go after anybody!" Blaise bellowed. "I was trying to be there for her! Not that you would understand what that means. You know what, Potter? You're a shite friend. Yeah, I said it. You absolutely suck at this!"

They stared each other down, right there in the middle of the street. Harry looked into the dark, angry eyes of the man who had been his friend, of the man he had come to trust...he hadn't even considered the possibility that Blaise would betray him. When he had opened that door, he had expected to find Blaise and Ginny hanging out or getting a few drinks or literally anything except what he'd seen. Instead, the picture of Blaise snogging his ex was branded into his brain and the thought wasn't...it wasn't anger and jealousy as much as it was hurt. In the end, Blaise had left too.

"You know," he said tonelessly. His voice sounded hoarse after all the yelling but he fought to speak, because he needed to say this. "I've seen you do a lot of stuff, a lot of bad stuff to people. I always thought there was a limit. That I was the limit. The thing is, Blaise - you're a shite friend, too."

"What are you saying?" Blaise asked. "You're telling me you don't want to be friends anymore?"

"I'm saying I never want to see you again," Harry replied coldly. "Good luck with Ginny. She's better than you deserve."

He walked away, uncomfortably aware of Blaise's devastated gaze following him. Harry didn't care. It was over. The last thread holding their friendship together had snapped and he didn't think he had the strength to fix it anymore.

~*~*~*~*~Present Day~*~*~*~*~

"Well," James quipped as Harry winded down. "That was depressing."

"And long," Lily mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Daddy, are you ever going to meet Father?"

"Soon, Princess," Harry smiled, kissing her head. "We're almost there."

"Lies," Al mumbled under his breath. "Scandalous lies."

"We're almost done," Harry repeated. He rolled his eyes as his sons exchanged unconvinced looks. "I promise. Besides, you're going to want to hear what happens next..."