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Harry groaned loudly as his alarm clock blared a high pitch sound through his home. Slamming it hard, it fell to the ground with a loud clatter, and Harry swore as he jumped out of bed to grab it and check if it was broken. After making sure that it was all right he placed it back on his night table, stood up yawning as he stretched. Beams of sunlight filtered into his bedroom through the opening in the curtains, and he threw them open without hesitation.
His mind had caught on a distant memory; it was a short one, in it where he was holding a picture of him and his friends. It wasn’t a moving one, a plain Muggle one which had been taken by Hermione’s parents at the end of their sixth year. She had mailed him a copy two days later telling him that her parents wouldn’t allow he to put it into the magically solution that causes the images to move, but he couldn’t complain.
The car ride over to Michael’s wasn’t long, and when they pulled up to the underground bar, Harry already was laughing at the antics of Alan, Georgia, and Adam. He had no idea what to expect at this concert, and was wondering what kind of music he would be listening to. He already knew that Teddy’s band was a rock band, but that still didn’t tell him much. Growing up he had never paid much attention to music – he didn’t have the time for it. He was too busy trying to dodge punches from Dudley, and then trying to dodge spells.
The Other Side of the World
Songs drifted in and out of Harry’s thoughts as he dreamed that night. Flashes of the war passed his closed eyes, and he kept seeing Ginny’s sleeping face as she lay in her bed at St. Mungo’s. In his sleep he gripped the sheets around him, and fought against his own minds to forget all the awful things he had left behind. Ginny’s smiling face drifted back through his mind, and he relaxed at this memory.
When Harry descended to his room that night, he held his new gift tightly, a smile on his face, warmth in his heart. He hadn’t felt this happy for a while, and for some reason knowing that he now had something to do with his life, to look forward too made him feel that way. He opened his door, locking it behind him, and put leaned the guitar on his sofa. He sat down, turning on the lights and stared around his huge room. This was his home, and it felt like his home.
Brushing the strings lightly, Harry stared out his open window and at the bright city around him. There was someone on his mind, and at the mention of England she was all he could think about. Emily’s brownish red hair caused his heart to skip a beat, and Georgia’s light brown eyes made his breathing slow. All around him there were things to remind him of Ginny, no matter how far he ran. She would always be there.
He had two days, though, to get ready. To practice his now finished song, and get Georgia to work out the piano so he didn’t have to go on stage alone. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe it would be fun and not so nerve racking. He had had done scarier things. He was the wizard to defeat the evilest man alive.
A True Musician
All the excitement and happiness that had filled him moments before seemed to escape him. Georgia had brought up some good points, and maybe it was time that Harry let go of his fears. She was right, what he was doing at that moment was what he loved. Was there any good reason he could come with not to listen to her?
Not really sure what had just happened, Harry stood still, his hand still where Emily had slapped him. He had watched as her feet disappeared in the darkness as she went upstairs, and at last slouching in confusion and defeat, Harry turned to go into the kitchen to get something to drink. But to his shock, and horror there stood Ted, holding a dish cloth.
Rubbing his temples he tried to think of something to do. He wasn’t going to go shopping with Georgia as he knew she would just pester him the whole time about what he should do. Well it doesn’t matter any how, she’s probably already gone, Harry thought to himself, glancing at his watch. It was nearing one o’clock in the afternoon. As Harry noted this, he heard movement across the hall, and to his surprise and utter bewilderment a knock came to his door.
Thrust Into the Past
It took Harry a few seconds to calculate what had happened, and that he had just run into a woman who was a head shorter then him, and had short red hair. His glasses in hand, something he had done quickly, he fumbled with them for a few seconds, blinking rapidly. The figure he had run into had quickly backed away from him, and as he finally managed to push his glasses on his face, he quickly gasped
The entire world seemed to have stopped. Curious Muggles that were walking by no longer existed; mere blurred figures surrounded Harry, and he saw none of it. All he saw was Ginny’s shimmering face. When she had fainted Harry had been quick to react, grasping her thin body firmly before it crashed on to the cobblestone street. He had carried her over to some steps that led to a Muggle office building. Propping her up, he scrambled to retrieve his wand to awaken Ginny without anyone noticing.
Staring at the closed door, Harry frowned. He was being such a coward for not telling Ginny and the others about his music. But what was he supposed to tell them? It didn’t matter anyway. After this show he was going to put his guitar away for good, and go back to the life he loved and missed. He would go back to the ministry and finish his training as an Auror and live the rest of his days with Ginny. It was how he always planned it, and it’s what he still wanted.
A Visit With Hagrid
Turning the corner sharply, and his head down because of the rain, he did not watch where he was going and walked straight into another person walking. Grunting loudly as he was thrown backwards, Harry stumbled to try and regain balance. Whoever had had bumped into was no small person.
The stench was worse than Harry had remembered, and he gagged. Covering his face with his arm he walked towards the flat door, and knocked three times. He waited to hear the sound of footsteps or any sign of life but there was nothing. Stepping back Harry realized that they weren’t home. Where else could they have been? He didn’t really need to ask himself that one. Deep down he knew where they were – The Burrow. Scratching his head, Harry tried to think of what he should do. He could go to The Burrow, where he was most certainly not welcome or just never see his friends or Ginny again.
The Weasley kitchen was exactly as Harry remembered. The same cheery surrounding’s that were cluttered but homey. At the long breakfast table was set for a late lunch, and a cauldron was bubbling in the fireplace with freshly made stew. Half the Weasley family was standing in the kitchen, all looking at Harry with a mix of anger, confusion, happiness, and shock on their faces
Excerpt from the Harry Potter biography: Harry Potter, After the Fall by Grizel Hurtz.
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