A/N-Harry Potter is not mine. Neither are any of the other peeps. JKR rules the world!!!

Muggleland

"Please, just let me through!" shouted the young man, trying to make his way into the dark brown, brick building. Ever since he'd successfully defeated the most feared wizard of all time, he couldn't get away from the reporters. Even in the muggle word they wanted interviews. Of course, the muggles just thought he had captured a simple serial killer. Granted, he was a horrible, unmerciful serial killer, but a serial killer all the same. The muggles were lucky. They didn't know the half of it.

Now all he wanted to do was make it into the cool, air conditioned haven, just yards ahead. His emerald eyes checked his watch. 'Oh bloody hell. I'm ten minutes late!' he thought with a groan, 'She's going to slaughter me!'

Finally making it past the throngs of swarming journalists (if they could call themselves that), he made it into the front doors. Breathing deeply, he glanced at his surroundings. Looking around, he saw masses of people, none with the red hair he was searching for. 'Alright smart guy,' the voice in his head told him, "You're a properly trained wizard. You couldn't possibly fail to find the most important person in your life just because the room's a little crowded.'

'Oh sure,' he mumbled to himself, 'Why don't you just get on me too? It's not like she's going to be thrilled to pieces with me or anything.'

"Ahhh! Stop talking to yourself! People are going to think you're nutters!" he shouted, louder then he meant to.

"You know, it's okay to talk to yourself, as long as you don't answer yourself," said a soft whisper directly into his left ear.

He turned around quickly, reaching in his back pocket for his wand. "Whoa there killer!" the almost frightened, but undeniably amused witch exclaimed, "I was just giving you some friendly advice!" By now she was shaking with laughter, while her tardy companion was slowly turning into a nice, ripe tomato.

"Blimey, Ginny! Did you have to make me soil my pants?" grumbled the most famous wizard of the age.

"Sorry love," was the only reply the still giggling woman gave him. Her face was almost as scarlet as his. He rolled his eyes, which just made her laugh harder. Looking around, he saw people were beginning to stare.

"Do you think we can get a move on it?" he asked rather faintly.

"Oh sure," she replied, not caring if people were staring or not. She grabbed his hand and whispered loudly, "I am so excited for this! Would you look at all of these muggles! To think, this is how they choose to spend so much of their time, as if there's nothing else in this world to do," she grinned wickedly and slapped his behind.

He laughed, trying to look appalled at the same time. "I can't imagine what you're talking about Miss Weasley. It's obvious that spending so much time reading your mother's romance novels has absolutely corrupted you." Looking down at her, he smirked. She grinned back at him, and rolled her eyes. Looking around, she knew what she had to do. Dropping his hand she took a deep breath and….

"Last one to the rations zone is a Cleansweep Seven!" she shrieked and took off to the other side of the overly congested room. Hardly believing what just happened, Harry shook his shaggy black hair, and sprinted after her.

Finally catching up, he clutched his side and pretended to collapse. "Oh puh-lease!" she chortled, grasping his face in her hands and lifting up his head. "You could out run my Bat-Bogey hex if you set your mind to it!" She wrinkled her nose and winked at him.

"Are you just going to look at me, or are you going to snog me?" he asked, forgetting all about the crowd staring at them. Damn! Her cuteness always did that to him. It was like she held some sort of mind-boggling power, and it made him putty in her hands. 'I reckon she could get me to do just about anything if she snogged me long enough,' he thought, knowing exactly what her lips could do to him.

Unfortunalty for him, a group of muggle teenagers ran directly between them, splitting them apart. "Well," Ginny started, "I suppose we should get our provisions and keep going." Harry agreed, and they went to wait in line.

A short while later they were at the counter. Looking awed, Ginny whispered, "I don't know what to get. Order for me, will you?" It was the first time in quite a while that Harry had seen her look a little unsure of herself.

"Sure Gin. I'll just get you what I like, so we can share." She nodded in agreement. He ordered, and let her pay with muggle money, because that was the whole point in coming here in the first place. Ginny wanted to see what is was like to be a non-magical young woman.

They walked slowly away with their hands full, and began to tread down the long, shadowy hallway. After what seemed like forever, they turned to enter the next room. Ginny hissed with awe. "We could fit the entire Gryffindor common room in here-three times," she said, cracking a smile. Turning to Harry, she grinned and ran into the room she was so taken with. Glancing behind her, she motioned to him. He followed. Well, what else could he do? She was going up and down the aisles trying to pick the best spot. She finally settled somewhere in the middle, sat down, and leaned back. "Now this is the life," she declared.

"Do you know what most muggles do when they're here?" Harry asked wagging his eyebrows up and down.

Ginny shook her head and said, "No idea, but I'm sure it's something that could wait until we got back to your flat tonight." Harry protested to the best of his ability, but then he remembered how long it took him just to get here-it wasn't worth getting into an argument now, not when he had the whole night with her.

Sitting down next to her, he nudged her and whispered, "That's fine. But I get to plan the rest of the evening," and with that he nibbled on her ear.

Looking suggestively at him she said, "Well I was hoping I wouldn't have to plan everything!" His hand met hers and they squeezed. "Now tell me, what is this fluffy yellow stuff?"

"It's called popcorn. It's a staple in this setting. Almost required."

"I see. And what is this…mobie called again?"

"Movie, Gin. And it's called Casablanca. One of the classics, I've been guaranteed."

"Hmm," she said, leaning into his arm and cuddling closely, "This is romantic, isn't it?"

"It sure is." And with that the lights went down, and the movie began.

The End

A/N- So, what do you think of my little ramblings? I just had the idea pop into my head…absolutely pointless. I love when that happens!