A/N: Once again a big thank you to jennyelf for her fabulous beta skills. Jenn, you rock!

This chapter contains mild language. About as mild as what one would hear in a PG-13 (12A) film.

Chapter 3

Harry woke up from his afternoon sleep a little after two in the afternoon. He no longer felt the aftereffects of the potions, and to his relief, his head wasn't pounding. The only mild complaint Harry had was the ever present stiffness in his muscles, probably from being in bed for most of the day.

After putting on his glasses and a pair of pyjama bottoms, Harry stretched and made his way to the sitting room.

Walking into his sitting room, Harry had a fleeting thought of Ginny and the pleasant, albeit short, morning they had together. A part of him had hoped that when he awoke from his mid-morning sleep, he would find Ginny curled up on his sofa reading her Harpies playbook. But to Harry's dismay, the flat was quiet and he was alone.

Harry had been right in thinking that it would have been too much to hope that Ginny would still be here when he woke up. After all, Ginny had told him that the only reason she had come to take care of him was because she was home. He could have done well without that bit of information.

A pang of hunger shook Harry out of his thoughts forcing him to make his way to the kitchen to find something to eat.

To his surprise, Harry found a single sheet of parchment and a lidded glass dish sitting on his kitchen counter. The writing on the parchment he recognized as Ginny's. He lifted the lid and inhaled the familiar scent of Mrs Weasley's cottage pie.

Harry,

I stopped by earlier to check on you, but you were still asleep. I didn't want to disturb you as I felt you needed your rest. I figured you might be hungry after your morning kip, so I made you lunch.

Don't forget to take the remaining doses of the potions. I don't want to come back here and find that your cold got worse.

Floo the Burrow if you need anything.

Love, Ginny

Smiling at the short letter, Harry tucked into the pie. It was still pleasantly warm as though it had just been taken out of the oven. Harry reckoned Ginny must have put a charm on it to keep the temperature of the pie edible. She really did think of everything when it came to him.

Harry's mind started to drift again to this morning, specifically to the subject of Ginny's interview with Quidditch Today. Why hadn't she said anything about the interview to him? Ginny had said it wasn't important, but why would she say that? Did she mean it wasn't important for him to know about the interview, or that it wasn't important for her to give the interview?

Harry rubbed his face roughly to keep his brain from overanalyzing the situation with Ginny and Quidditch Today. He couldn't help thinking that it was unfortunate she had to miss it just to force feed him manky potions and make him delicious dippy eggs and soldiers.

As Harry took another tasty bite of the pie, the most wonderful idea occurred to him. What if he was able to get Ginny's interview rescheduled? It could be sort of a thank you to her for taking such good care of him.

Harry quickly set to work making a couple of Floo calls to various people at Quidditch Today in the hopes that he could get Ginny's meeting with the magazine reinstated.

After a few hours, the Quidditch publication agreed to a new interview with Ginny, but only on the condition that Harry would contribute to their "Legendary Quidditch Players of Hogwarts" commemorative issue.

Reluctantly, Harry consented to the periodical's interview, but with a few restrictions of his own. Any questions regarding the war, his parents, or his personal life were off limits, which conveniently only left one thing for them to discuss – Quidditch.

Harry could feel his eyes start to ache and his head faintly throb against his skull. It was no surprise he was so fatigued given the hours that had passed since he had come up with his plan and all the effort he put in to make it happen.

Downing the remaining doses of his potions, Harry set off to bed.

Harry woke up the next morning no longer feeling achy or stuffy. This was a great relief to him as he didn't fancy spending his Sunday sleeping or being under the influence of pain potions.

Making his way to his kitchen, Harry busied himself with preparing breakfast. He was about to set the kettle on the burner when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Harry? Harry, are you there? Its Ginny."

He walked into his sitting room and his stomach swooped at seeing Ginny's head floating among the green flames.

"May I come through? We need to talk about some things," Ginny dryly asked.

"Yes, of course," Harry replied.

As she came through the Floo, Harry waited for her pleasant smile to greet him. Instead what greeted him was a clenched jaw, two violent pink spots on her cheeks and the blazing eyes that reminded him of Mrs Weasley the summer before his second year when the twins and Ron had rescued him from the Dursleys.

"Ginny, what-"

"Harry," Ginny interrupted. "May I ask you why a reporter from Quidditch Today is Flooing the Burrow asking to interview me?"

Her tone was even with no hint of anger, just an eerie calmness.

"Er…what?" Harry muttered, stumbling for words but they escaped him.

Ginny walked closer to him so that they were now standing face to face.

"Why is there a reporter Flooing my parents' home asking to interview me?" Ginny repeated slowly, still keeping her voice even. "He says I have you to thank."

Shit.

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair. The idiot reporter wasn't supposed to say anything to Ginny about Harry's involvement. It was no wonder she was so cross.

"Harry, answer my question."

Ginny kept her eyes on him, waiting for an answer. Harry could see that it was costing her a great effort not to blow up at him. He could see the muscles along her jaw line tighten and her breathing seemed to quicken as the minutes passed.

"Alright, I felt bad that you had missed your first Quidditch interview taking care of me, so I made a few calls to get your interview rescheduled as a 'thank you' to you for looking after me."

Harry's explanation did nothing to soften the expression on Ginny's face, or calm her anger. It simply seemed to fuel it.

"Harry, if you wanted to thank me, then take me out for a meal or I don't know, buy me something pretty. But don't use your influence to advance my career. I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" Ginny bellowed, driving her last point home.

"Hang on," Harry snapped, nettled at the accusation. "I know you can take care of yourself and I didn't use my influence to do anything! You're a damn good Chaser, Ginny. You deserve this opportunity."

"No, I don't. You weren't at the last match, so I'll fill in the details, shall I. I was in for less than two minutes. I didn't assist in a single goal, much less score one. I didn't even handle the Quaffle. The only valuable thing I did on the pitch that day was hex Kirkwood Hobbs when he grabbed my arse resulting in us both getting ejected and suspended for two matches!" Ginny ranted, her eyes sparkling with angry unshed tears.

Hobbs was lucky Harry wasn't at the last Harpies match. The more Harry thought about that berk grabbing Ginny's arse, the angrier Harry got. Ginny's last match was away in Tutshill, which meant her brothers weren't there either. Hobbs was damn fortunate the match wasn't at Holyhead Stadium.

"Quidditch Today doesn't want to interview me because I'm an exceptional Chaser or because I scored the most goals," Ginny continued. "They only want to talk to me because of what I did and who I'm friends with."

She turned her face away from Harry in an effort to compose herself.

If it wasn't for that plonker, Ginny would never have been ejected, allowing her time to show the skills that Harry knew she had in abundance. And she was suspended for two matches? Harry had half a mind to look up Hobbs at the local Tutshill pub the next time he was sent that way on an assignment. He might just have to see if Ron or George would like to join him.

Harry didn't know what to say to Ginny to make this situation any better. He was still hacked off at Quidditch Today for spilling to Ginny his connection to her interview, not to mention he was still too annoyed at her for blowing up at him.

They remained there in his sitting room in a tense silence.

After a few more minutes, she turned to face him.

"Did it ever occur to you that I would rather care for someone that I love, than sit through a boring pointless interview with a stranger?" Ginny remarked.

"Really, I thought it was because you were the only one home," Harry retorted.

He wasn't sure what made him say it, but the cutting remark tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Wait, wait Ginny, I didn't mean it! Did you say 'love'?"

But it was too late. There was no stopping her as Ginny quickly grabbed some Floo powder, threw it in the fireplace and vanished.

"Shit!"

Harry plopped down on his sofa in utter defeat.

Things between Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were properly messed up now.