A/N: another one of my little ideas...it popped into my head while I was doing psychics actually…hmm weird…its H/G and Hr/R don't worry….Just about how Harry is finally at a suitable "marrying age" and how he's getting attention from the whole world but all he wants is his one true love, and his best friend's little sister, Ginny Weasly.

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize from the Harry Potter books, all that belongs to J.K. Rowling! I own the plot and anything I made up…

There isn't much in the first chapter, just a character intro and the beginning of the plot…but r/r!

-

"Why is it that only once a celebrity becomes of marrying age does his or her fame suddenly boom?" Hermione Granger said heaving a huge sack into the unkempt apartment.

"Because, there'd be no use for little old ladies with ugly leather bags gossiping otherwise, 'Mione" A tall, thin red-headed man called out from the couch.

"Ron! A little help here!" Hermione gasped as she tried her hardest to pull the sack inside.

Ron Weasly grinned at his fiancé and got up off the couch. He was tall, but unlike in school where he was lanky, he had managed to fill out into his frame. The trademark Weasly hair was as red as ever and the startlingly blue eyes had an almost magnetic attraction to them.

"What on EARTH is IN here?" Ron asked, looking disgustedly at the heavy bag.

"Harry's mail," Hermione replied while trying with all her might to push the too-wide bag through the door.

"Oh no! Not again! HOW many times must this happen? The mail never STOPS!" Ron wailed.

"RON! We've been through this a hundred times already. Harry will be getting fan mail of obsessed fans until he finally decides to settle down with one girl!" Hermione said exasperatedly.

"You mean, lunatic and down right scary, fans," Ron muttered to which Hermione smiled, but then added in a louder voice, "Where is the little bugger anyway?"

-

Sitting in the Minister of Magic's office, twenty-two year old Harry Potter was involved in a very serious conference with the Minister-playing a good round of wizard's chess and drinking some very fine hot chocolate.

"I've got you now!" The Minister, Warrick Ellers, beamed down at the board.

Harry let out a laugh and said, "Well played, Sir."

Although the war had been over for a few years now, the mental struggles that the Boy-Who-Lived had suffered were still apparent in his appearance. His young face had signs of weariness and tiredness. His bright green eyes, which still glowed, had a faint trace of sadness to them, and his trademark scar, was as apparent as ever. However, Harry Potter was now a full-grown adult. Unlike his school days, where he was experiencing his awkward phase, he was now tall, lean and had a mature look to him.

For many days now, the press, who never tired of his immense fame, hounded him to settle down and get married, and while the thought of marriage at such a young age quite frankly terrified Harry, the public had seemed to agree with the press. So, ever since that rubbish article appeared last week, Harry's mail had quadrupled. And Harry was completely lost.

Sure he had dated girls, that was a major part of growing up, was it not? But Harry always felt like he was missing something vitally important.

A knock came at the Minister's door and an older redheaded man appeared at the door. "May I come in Minister?"

Ellers looked up and grinned warmly, "Arthur, old chap! How splendid it is to see you! How's the department treating you?"

Arthur Weasly smiled serenely, "Why it's a pleasure to see you too Warrick, and the department is superb. But I was wondering could I have a word with Harry, please?"

Harry got up swiftly, looking worried, by a reflexive nature not a deliberate one, and Ellers replied, "Sure thing Arthur."

Harry moved to the door and Arthur pulled him into a hug, "Molly has been asking about you. How are you?"

"I'm good," came the almost robotic reply.

"Well good then," Mr. Weasly said, patting him on the back, "How do you feel about coming around for dinner tonight? Molly said you weren't to say no."

Harry grinned, "Well then, seeing as I have no choice, I'll be there at six."

"Good boy," Arthur said, and then turned to Ellers, "I'll be in to see you later today Warrick."

"Sure thing Arthur!" The Minister said waving cheerily.

-

Harry opened the door to his apartment and sighed. It had been a long, long day. He was head of the International Inquiries and Defense Department at the Ministry, one of the most grueling and demanding positions at the Ministry. Harry knew that the fact that he was who he was had played a role in getting him the job, but he made sure to love every minute of it.

As the door swung open he could smell the aromatic scent of good food. And seeing as neither he, nor his roommate Ron cooked, it could only be…

"Hermione?" Harry called out.

"Harry, you're home I see," came a voice from the kitchen.

"Hey Harry," came another voice, this one from the living room.

"Hey Ron, what're you doing? Watching TV again?" Harry inquired setting his things down on the dining table.

"Yeah," Ron said, "This things amazing. They need one of these in the wizarding world!"

Harry smiled and shook his head. He turned to Hermione. Hermione had indeed grown up as well as her two best friends. Her hair had calmed down to be a curly-wavy sort and she had even shot up a few inches, nowhere near Ron but tall enough.

"What're you cooking, 'Mione?" Harry asked poking his head into the kitchen.

"It's for tonight, Harry. Now go and get changed so we can be on our way to the Burrow!" Hermione said swatting her spatula at Harry.

Harry ducked and grinned and walked into the hall, "I'm off to take a shower then!"

"Good. And wear something nice!" Hermione said after him.

Harry laughed, "You know, you sound more and more like Mrs. Weasly everyday!"

From the both the kitchen and the living room, Harry heard sounds of exasperation and disgust.

-

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" A voice bellowed from the hall outside.

"I'm COMING!" Harry replied buttoning his black shirt.

"We're LATE!" the voice hissed.

"Hermione, I'll be there in a minute!" Harry said indignantly.

Harry emerged from his room looking better than he had earlier in the evening, with a black button down shirt, a black blazer, and a dark pair of jeans. His hair was still wet but it was nonetheless messy.

"Finally!" Hermione scowled.

Harry and Ron exchanged grins.

"Let's go!" Ron exclaimed.

They all apparated at once and rematerialized a second later at the Burrow.

The Burrow, which was all done up for Christmas, radiated with light. Every inch of the living room was decorated in red and green lights, little Santa clauses, and festive fake snow. Obviously, Mrs. Weasly had been hard at work.

"Hello, all of you!" Mrs. Weasly said cheerfully to the trio from the kitchen.

A chorus of hellos came in response. Right away Hermione went into the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasly in her holiday cooking. Harry and Ron, meanwhile, joined all the other Weasly men in the living room, where they were to put up the Christmas tree.

After the tree had been up for a good while, and the tinsel had just had the final touches put on it, a thud came at the door.

"That must be Ginny," Mr. Weasly called out.

'Ginny? Here?' Harry thought to himself.

The door opened, almost as if in slow motion, for Harry. In the darkness stood Ginny Weasly, with her black coat and snow falling ever so softly onto her red hair. She had indeed grown…and Harry felt himself smile to see how beautiful she had become.

"Mum, Dad," Ginny was speaking to her parents, "I'd like you to meet someone."

"Who dear?" Mrs. Weasly asked.

"Steven," Ginny said, and all eyes turned to the door as a tall, blonde haired man stepped through the door.

Harry felt all the Weaslys turn to look at him and then at the stranger.

"Hello Steve," Harry heard himself say as he extended his hand to shake the strangers, "Welcome to the Burrow."

All of a sudden, Harry felt like something inside of him changed, although what it was, he wasn't quite sure.

R/R!…please?