Summary - AU. Harry Potter lives an ordinary post-college, non-magical life. Everything is hunky dory until he realizes that he's got feelings for none other than the sister of his roommate, Ron Weasley. Moreover, she's just been swept off her feet by handsome Dean Thomas, who happens to have a grudge against Harry and Ron ever since their best friend, Hermione, punched his cousin (Draco Malfoy) in the face. Contains H/G, R/H, fluff, angst, and a fairly engaging plot line, if I do say so myself.

Disclaimer - I regret to inform you that I am not, cannot, and, unless science makes some major technological advances, will never be JK Rowling. In the meantime, I'll speak in a fake British accent and force the kids I babysit to read Harry Potter even if it's past their bedtime and for once they actually want to go to sleep. At any rate, I own none of the characters, terms, references, or places aside from ones I create and my storyline. Alright, I'm done. R&R! Also, while I wish I had half the artistic ability of the people who are part of DeviantArt, I do not, and the cover photo is credited to user ~myavi on said site.

Author's note - This is an AU fic that takes place as if the golden trio, and all the other characters, are living in real modern day life. I've taken liberties in writing their characters, so I apologize in advance if you dislike any of my depictions. Essentially, this fic uses characters/names and references from the books but is otherwise not entirely consistent with the specific personalities that JKR so skillfully crafted. This is also moderately for the sake of fluff and angst and H/G (and R/H) ending up together.

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Chapter One: Just Friends

It was raining outside, and Harry Potter was bored.

This seemed to be the case a great deal lately; perhaps it was the dreary weather of mid March, or the fact that nothing was really going on in his life. Either way, this malaise was really getting to him, but as yet he had no way to remedy it.

The sound of keys jingling caught his ear as he headed from the kitchen to the living room, bowl of popcorn in one hand. A few seconds later, his best friend and roommate, Ron Weasley, poked his head in.

"Hi," Harry said, flopping down on the couch. "Nice weather out there."

"Tell me about it." Ron groaned and shook his umbrella off before stepping inside. "What's going on?"

Harry gestured vaguely to the television. "The usual."

"Ah." Ron nodded. "So, uh, I talked to Hermione."

"You did? Hold on." His interest piqued, it was with some annoyance that he checked his phone, which was vibrating wildly. "Oi, it's Ginny. One sec."

Ron grimaced. The fact that his little sister had become so close with his roommate was one that he'd been unwillingly forced to accept. He couldn't help his protective side, which tended towards the if-you-hurt-her-I-will-hurt-you mindset, coupled with slight resentment; why was she calling Harry instead of him? If something was wrong, shouldn't he be the first to know? Of course, she had five other brothers to choose from, not to mention her copious amount of friends, but still. It was the principle of the thing.

Harry hung up the phone with an apologetic look. "Sorry, we're meeting for coffee tomorrow and her laptop's acting up and a professor was being a total - sorry. Go on. You were saying?"

"So I talked to Hermione."

"You talked to Hermione." Hermione Granger was a long-time friend of both men; she currently worked for a publishing company and tutored teens in all subject areas on the side. She was a rational, incredibly intelligent young woman, and it was no wonder that Ron had been quite infatuated with her ever since seventh grade, which was now eleven years ago.

"I guess she saw it coming, and I guess...well, she didn't exactly give me a straight up answer, you know? I reckon she needs some time to think, or something, but I just - I dunno, mate." He ran a hand across his stubble ruefully. "I kind of assumed she'd respond differently, that's all. She didn't say no. She didn't say yes. She just said that she needs time to think about it and thank you very much you're a lovely friend and so on." He flounced down on the sofa next to Harry. "What do you think?"

"I know Hermione," said Harry carefully, "and if she didn't feel the same way, she would have said no then and there. She's reasonable - very nice; she would let you down gently - but really has no patience for games. If she says she'll think about it, well, she'll think about it. Give it time."

Ron looked down glumly at the remote control between his hands. "Right."

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute, sound muted as over-saturated images played across the screen. Then Harry's phone buzzed again. Ron saw that it was Ginny, rolled his eyes slightly, and began flipping through channels.

Harry stood up and walked into the dining room so as to have more privacy. The two of them were renting a modest flat a few blocks away from the campus and town centre, and, for being 23-year-olds, they kept it impressively tidy. Part of it was admittedly Mrs. Weasley's semi-annual visits, in which she maniacally dusted and scrubbed every surface whilst the others sat around watching The Miranda Show.

He hit answer and asked, "Hey, what is it?" Ron turned the volume up in the other room and he could hear muffled shouts and crowds cheering. Football.

"Did Ron talk to Hermione?"

Harry froze. It seemed as if girls were perpetually trying to get him involved in some drama or other, and frankly, he didn't have the energy to deal with it anymore. One of these days he was going to give someone a proper mouthful about this absurdity, but not Ginny. Never Ginny.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, sorry. Um, why do you want to know?"

"Oh, come off it. You know Hermione and I are roommates."

"More like sisters," he said. "Really." The two of them together presented a double threat that, if it was the end of the world, he was positive would put them at the top of the food chain.

"I just want to know -"

"What Ron said?"

"Well...yeah."

Harry shut his eyes for a moment. He loved Hermione dearly, but there had been times throughout their friendship that she'd been moody and considerably angsty about Ron. It wasn't as if Harry didn't care; rather, he still had no idea how to deal with emotional women. Ginny posing this question seemed like the entrance into a he-said-she-said vortex for which, if it did not turn out favorably, he was sure to be blamed. "Ron just said that they talked. I'm confident you can fill in the blanks then."

"We both know that's not what I'm asking about," said Ginny matter-of-factly. "What was his reaction?"

"You mean like, what he thought about it?"

"Very good, Potter. You're a bright one," she snapped. "Yes, Harry, I mean 'what he thought about it.'" This she said in an uncannily accurate impression of his voice, and he visualized her hands flailing a bit, probably forming sarcastic air quotations, as they always did when a situation became frustrating.

"Okay, okay, sorry." Harry glanced covertly at the other room, then lowered his voice. "Well, he sounded sort of disappointed."

"Disappointed," repeated Ginny slowly. "Like how?"

"Like the fact that she didn't give a definite answer and he's been building up to this moment, this sudden profession of love or whatever, for ages - years, really - was kind of off putting to him." He heard a little gasp at this pronouncement, which struck him as suspicious. Ginny wasn't the gasping type, and this noise sounded all too familiar. "Ginny, is Hermione there?" he asked, leaning against the sideboard wearily.

"Er..."

"Am I on speakerphone?"

"Um, well..."

"Great." He smacked himself in the forehead. "I should've known. Hermione?"

A hesitant pause, then, "Hello, Harry!"

"Yeah, in the future, you could just text me or - and here's a brilliant idea - Ron if you want to find out how he's feeling about this all."

"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized "I just - I panicked. Oh, Harry, did he really plan all of this?"

"I wouldn't say 'plan,' but he's been in love with you forever, and it took years of building up courage for him to finally admit that to you."

She sounded tearful. "I love him, Harry."

Well that was a bit uncomfortable. "Right. But I'm not the one you need to tell that to. I think you know who it is, and right now he's sitting in the room next to me" - he craned his neck to see what his roommate was up to now - "staring dejectedly out the window," he finished. "You know what you're supposed to do in this situation. So go do it."

"It's just not that -"

"Go do it," said Harry firmly. Then, taking a deep breath, he added, "I can be out of here in ten, tops. Come over and have a proper talk with him, alright?"

"Okay, okay. You're right."

Deciding he was very much sick of all this girl business - it was like high school all over again, really - he said, "I know. Can I talk to Ginny now?"

"Sure. You're a great friend, Harry."

He waited until he heard,

"Hey again. Sorry about that. We just had to know, and she was going mental."

"Is she coming over now?"

"Um, yeah. Just grabbed her rain slicker and keys."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"It's about time with them, isn't it?" said Harry, going down the hall to his room and rummaging through messy drawers for a sweatshirt. He extracted a navy Abercrombie & Fitch zip-up hoodie and embarked on a search for socks and trainers. "It's been way too long."

"I agree. They're overdue."

"Exactly. Hey, mate!" he shouted. Ron gave an incoherent grunt. "I'm running into town for a bit, want anything?"

"I'm fine," Ron said flatly. Harry seized a pair of mismatched socks and entered the living room. His friend looked up at him helplessly. "Do you think she likes me?"

"I think it'll be just fine," Harry replied, clapping him on the shoulder. Spotting his trainers, he stuffed his feet hurriedly into the toes and snatched an umbrella from the arm of a chair positioned closest to the door. This arm in particular tended to be the recipient of mostly useless junk that both men deposited all too casually and left to accumulate until Ron's fear of spiders motivated a hearty cleanup of dust and cobwebs. "Ginny, you still there?"

She answered in the affirmative. He waved at Ron, then stepped out into the street.

"Good lord, it's rainy."

"Yeah, it's pretty gross." He could hear the noise of computer keys tapping rapidly. Ginny was an absurdly fast typist, and a superbly talented science student. No doubt she was writing the next greatest thesis on plasmids and vectors and what-have-you.

"Alright, I'm in the car." He ducked inside and started up the engine. "Hold on." Dutifully, he set the phone in the stand Mrs. Weasley had insistently given him for Christmas one year, so that he could always have two hands on the wheel even while talking to other people. "You're on speaker."

"Great."

"Yep." He pulled out of the parking spot. "So what are you up to?"

"Last minute revisions and edits. This bad boy's due at midnight. I'm almost done, though. You planning to go anywhere?"

"Nope."

"Meet at the bookstore in fifteen?"

"Sure."

"See you then."

She hung up, leaving Harry with an excessively idiotic grin on his face. He couldn't help it; even the most boring conversations (and this had certainly been one) were colorful and exciting with Ginny Weasley. He couldn't deny that he had feelings for her, but, in a much more realistic and typical way, he could simply avoid said feelings until an opportunity arose. An opportunity which he would most likely not take. It was a good system.

He drummed his fingers on the dash, waiting for the traffic light to switch to green. A few more turns and he had parked in front of the Flourish & Blotts book shop. As he made a run for the entrance, dodging rain drops unsuccessfully, he crashed head first into someone. Taking a step backwards, he apologized profusely, but his stream of "sorry"s was interrupted by an incredulous,

"Harry?"

It took a moment to wipe the rain from his glasses. "Cho?"

"Er - hi." She shifted uncomfortably, no doubt having second thoughts about engaging in this situation. "How are you?"

"I'm, uh, good," he stammered. Cho Chang was his high school girlfriend; they had dated halfway through senior year and ended it a few months later, making prom exceedingly awkward. He'd gone with Luna Lovegood, one of Ginny's friends and a last minute resort. Meanwhile, Cho didn't hesitate to flash her new boyfriend, Michael Corner, in front of his face, until Luna, to her credit, suggested that they leave early.

That was a miserable night that he would rather get out of his head: Ron and Hermione had been in a fight and proceeded to have a massive shouting match in the parking lot, which, as usual, Harry had to sort out for the teenagers. He'd initially followed Hermione down the street and spent an hour sitting on the curb, arm around her as she broke down and alternately ranted and cried about Ron's "despicable" behavior, finally concluding with teary-eyed thanks and the emotional proclamation that Harry was the best friend she'd ever had. When he got home, the young man in question texted him demanding that he come over, and after an unfortunate walk-in on Ginny snogging her prom date, which left him with a host of confusing feelings, he went up to his best friend's room. There, he patiently endured another hour of "and she's totally out of line" "that was so below the belt" "I can't believe" "I honestly thought she was more mature than that" "and did you hear her say" before he could drive back home and collapse into bed at three o'clock in the morning. It was neither Ron's nor Hermione's finest moment.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back on Cho. "Sorry, blanked out a bit there. You were saying...?"

"Right." She tucked a strand of silky black hair behind her ear and gave a little cough. "Well, I've been working recently."

"Oh, brilliant. Where?"

"I'm a secretary at an accountant's office. It's really good, he's been hinting at a promotion for the past couple weeks so...crossing my fingers!" She laughed weakly. "Have you been working?"

"Um, well...no," admitted Harry reluctantly. "I share an apartment with Ron, actually. He's applying for jobs but so far nothing's turned up."

"Ah."

"Harry!" They both turned around, somehow managing to bump hands in the process. It was Ginny, who was running towards him. "I'm so sorry I'm late," she panted, "I was only - oh. Hello, Cho."

"Hi," replied Cho, with an awkward little wave. Ginny shot Harry a questioning look; he shrugged and she tilted her head pityingly. "I should really get going," Cho said abruptly. "I have an appointment with a client and this could be -"

"Bye!" said Ginny cheerfully, waving her off. She seized Harry's arm and dragged him into the store, which was warmly lit and had a quite cozy ambience about it. "Ouch. That was something."

"I know. Cho? Of all the people to run into..."

"I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip.

"Ginny! Are you laughing at me?"

"No." A grin split her face. "No, I'm not."

Harry groaned. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just that she - well, it was a tad amusing to watch you stutter and make a right fool of yourself in front of her. Kind of endearing, actually. Like sophomore year all over again."

Endearing, huh. Out loud he said dryly, "Thanks. Thanks for the never ending support, Ginevra."

She shook her head, still smiling, and placed a hand absentmindedly on his arm. "Coffee?"

His heart beating faster when she didn't remove it, he said dumbly, "Oh. Yes."

"On me, for making fun of you." She relinquished her hold on him to reach for her wallet, then lowered her voice. "And between us, she never deserved you."

"What?" he said sharply.

"Nothing," she replied breezily, and winked at him. Just friends just friends just friends, he thought adamantly. Just friends.

They chatted over cappuccinos and a shared cinnamon roll. The rain eased off just as Ginny was getting up to leave; her paper, though probably already stellar, demanded a few more look overs, and Harry ought to get back to the flat to check on Ron.

"Thanks for hanging out, it was lovely," she said. Harry considered helping her into her jacket but wisely restrained that particular urge. "Are we still on for tomorrow?"

"'Course. Good luck on your paper," he said. "See you later."

She waved at him as they went their separate ways, leaving Harry standing in partial sunlight, feeling very confused indeed.