A/N: This was a little notion I had a while ago that fit into a larger fic that never got done. The initial scene was inspired by (read "ripped off from") a friend of mine named Chelsea, a few years ago. Consider it part of my "What if...?" series of stories. This takes place in sixth year when Harry and Ginny are dating.

DISCLAIMER: Based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling.

"Ginny, we need to talk," Harry said. She looked up at him and grinned goofily.

"Sure, Harry," she said, patting the seat beside her. Harry had chosen to have this conversation in the Common Room, hoping that she wouldn't make a scene if there were a few people around.

"Ginny, I think you're a lovely girl," Harry began, taking a seat.

"Thank you, Harry," she beamed. "I think you're dreamy too." Harry smiled nervously. He was not looking forward to this. He tried to look her in the face, but she was licking her lips. He flinched.

Ah well, better come out and say it.

"Ginny, we can't see each other anymore," Harry said.

"What?" she squeaked. "Why? What's wrong with me? Was I not good enough for you in bed?" Harry flushed and hoped that no one in the Tower was listening in. Perhaps doing this here was not the best idea he'd ever had.

"It's not you; it's me," Harry said, but Ginny was having none of it.

"Oh, Harry! I'm sorry I was so inexperienced for you! I wanted to save myself for you, so I only let Dean shag me twice!" she wailed. Everyone in the Common Room was looking at them now, except for Seamus Finnigan, who was busy high fiving Dean.

"Ginny, you don't understand," Harry pleaded with her. "It's not you; it really is me. I'm gay!"

The Common Room was suddenly silent, and Harry felt his face burning even more. Ginny seemed to take a long time to process this.

"You – you – you can't be," she said eventually. "We had sex. How can you be gay if you're having sex with girls?"

"I was just lying to myself, Ginny."

"But you never wash and you have absolutely no dress sense. How can you be gay?"

"Just because someone is gay doesn't mean they dress well!"

"Yes it does. When have you last come across a gay without a sense of style?"

"Well," Harry began, but found he couldn't think of anyone. Sirius hadn't been sharply dressed when he'd first met him, but then again he was wearing the gear he'd gotten from prison. And Lupin tended to look a bit scraggy, but then he had no money and turned into a werewolf once a month. At least the pair of them had excuses.

"I'll learn," Harry said with a cocky grin. Ginny still seemed determined to change his mind, though.

"I look a bit like a boy, Harry," she said. "I'm really skinny and don't have breasts at all."

"Ginny..."

"I could cut my hair short, and stuff a sock down my trousers," she carried on. Harry shook his head. "Two socks?" she asked.

"It wouldn't be the same."

"I'll even let you stick it in my bum," she pleaded. "Please." Harry shook his head again.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said. "But I've met someone else." Much to Harry's horror, Ginny started to cry. He couldn't stand crying girls.

"Well, who is it then?" she sobbed.

"Draco."

"AS IN MALFOY?" she demanded. She took a deep breath. "How long has this been going on?"

"Well, it hasn't started yet," Harry replied. "I wasn't going to ask him out until I told you first." Ginny had stopped crying, and was now staring at him in disbelief.

"How do you even know if he's gay?" she asked.

"He's so witty, and such a fine dresser," Harry said. She didn't seem to believe him. "I just know, okay?"

"No," Ginny replied. "I don't think you're gay, and Malfoy is definitely not gay. He's seeing at least six different girls at the moment, and none of them know about each other." She paused. "Well, Lavender and Parvati know about each other, but they kind of have a ménage-a-trois thing going on."

"He's just overcompensating," Harry said. "Really he's gay as a rainbow."

"Harry, you're in denial. You're starting to sound like me. He hates you, too. Have you given any thought to that?"

"Because he's ashamed to admit our love," Harry huffed, crossing his arms.

"But, I love you," Ginny reminded him. "I know I'm not really pretty or anything, but surely you should stick with the safe best rather than letting that idiot reject you."

"He won't," Harry said defiantly. "I love you too, Ginny. But you're just not man enough for me."

"And Malfoy is?" she asked. "No, you like effeminate boys. That's one step away from liking girls. I'll turn you straight again if it's the last thing I do."

"Don't, Ginny," Harry said. "There's nothing you can do."

###

Hermione and Ron were making their way back from, ahem, Prefect Duties when they found the Common Room in a state. Chairs had been kicked everywhere and in the middle of the room Ginny had Harry in a headlock.

"Why won't you love me, you stupid, gay bastard?" she roared. Harry was shrieking like a girl while Ginny pulled at his hair.

Hermione turned to Ron.

"You know, maybe we should go take another look around the castle," she said. "As part of our Prefect Duties."

"Cool," Ron replied. And they left Harry and Ginny to it.