A/N: I apologize for the lengthy delay. I won't bore you with the details, but I've been on a roll with this story lately and I hope to have more very soon. Please leave a review, they certainly help! Also, this story still does not have a beta (although, if you have a suggestion for one, I'm all ears...), so I again, apologies for the mistakes. But chapters one through three have all been edited recently, and hopefully that makes them just a little prettier!

Happy New Year!

Part Four – The Power of Hermione

Pacing back and forth in the living room of her flat, Ginny kept casting anxious glances toward the fireplace as she waited for it to flare to life with the familiar green flames. She was expecting a floo call from Hermione, and her normally punctual friend was now fifteen minutes late – and counting. Sighing dramatically, Ginny flopped down on the couch and buried her face in a pillow to muffle her scream of frustration.

"That bad, then?" Hermione asked in bemusement, barely fighting back a grin when Ginny fell off the couch, startled by her friend's sudden appearance. "Are you alright?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, crawling over to the fireplace. "Oh, Hermione, he's driving me crazy! He – he's messing with my head, and he's even messing with my body, and he's – how am I supposed to move on if he's constantly around, which he is these days? I don't know what to do anymore. I can't keep ignoring my feelings, which is my obvious preference, because he won't let me!"

Hermione watched her panicked friend with wide eyes. "Ginevra Weasley, don't scare me like that! For a second or two there, I thought something horrible had happened. Honestly, why are you so worked up about nothing?"

"Nothing? You call this nothing? This is not nothing!" Ginny fairly screeched, earning a warning flinch from Hermione. "He ignored me for years, barely even deigning to look my way! He refused to come to my matches, he never showed up for my birthdays or celebration parties, and now – I don't know what he's doing, Hermione! He hugs me and touches me and tells me suddenly that he's never missed a single match, and I want to be mad at him, but I can't. And your fiancé, ohhh, I could kill him! Absolutely murder him without the scantest trace of remorse!"

"Oh, what in the world has Ronald done now?" Hermione huffed in exasperation, unsurprised by her inability to doubt that Ron would be involved in this…well, whatever this was. "He certainly hasn't mentioned anything to me. Oh! He did say that Harry was upset with him; is that what this is about?"

"No! Yes, I don't know, Hermione. At dinner, Ron had the nerve to get after me for being single. He all but spelled out the fact that I haven't been on a single date since Harry dumped me at the funeral, and then he…"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, groaning in frustration. "And Harry was there for that, right?"

Ginny nodded, smiling bitterly. "And then I let Ron goad me into a bet that I would be engaged by George's wedding, which is obviously not feasible or something I really want to do. To make things even more complicated, Harry is always around all of a sudden! He's in my space and my home and being very, very un-Harry like. I don't know what's going on. If he were anyone else, I'd think he was flirting with me, but I know better than that."

"Well, tell me what Harry has been doing," Hermione instructed soothingly. She paused for a second, thinking. "Actually, stand back, I'm coming over."

Before Ginny could even formulate a protest – international apparation fees were exorbitant these days, particularly for those who paid for emergency privileges – Hermione's head was already out of the fire. Pushing to her feet, Ginny shook her head and made her way to the kitchen to get a tea tray ready. As she was levitating it to the living room, Hermione appeared near the front door."

Hastily settling the tray on the table, Ginny squealed with delight as she threw her arms around her friend. "Oh, you didn't have to come, but I am so happy that you did!"

"I've missed you, too!" Hermione smiled hugely, hugging her tightly in return. "Now, tell me what is going on. I want to hear all about this flirting that Harry has been doing. It almost defies belief, but I suppose that is the main theme of Harry's life. Hopefully he's improved since school days?"

"He's quite wonderful at it, so perhaps I am just imagining it," Ginny muttered ruefully, her face falling a bit. "It certainly wouldn't be a very Harry thing to do, so maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part."

Hermione guided Ginny to a chair, as comfortable here in her friend's place as she was in her own. "Tell me the whole story," she ordered gently. "Honestly, though, Gin. You know Harry as well as – better even! – anyone else does; if you think he's been flirting with you, then he undoubtedly has."

"Well, he's showed up here with dinner; he had all of my favorite foods with him, if you can believe that. I didn't even realize he knew how much – well, anyway, that was a day or two after that awful dinner where Ron goaded me into the bet. Honestly, I know you love him, but there is something seriously wrong with him, Hermione. He just had to humiliate both Harry and I right in front of the family. Harry took it even worse than I did, you know. George told me yesterday that he heard from one of the auror trainees who visits the shop a lot that Harry used Ron as a training dummy." Hermione's mouth dropped open at that bit of information. "Not only that, but I'm pretty sure they haven't spoken yet. I know they didn't at the engagement party, at any rate."

"They – well, it's just like Ron to forget mentioning something like this me, isn't it?" Hermione huffed indignantly. "Honestly, what is wrong with those two? I can certainly see why Harry is upset, but to use Ron as target practice is a little beyond the pale." She shook her head, muttering under her breath. "I suppose that's a bit off the topic, though. What else has Harry done?"

Ginny sighed, her expression softening as she allowed herself to be consumed with thoughts of Harry. "He's just been attentive, sweet, and…and sexy. He spent the whole evening of George and Katie's party with me, even dancing with me several times. Now there's the silly bet we made, and I just don't know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "Bet? What does this bet entail?"

"He bet that George would choose Ron or Perce or one of our brothers as his best man. I disagreed," Ginny stated succinctly. "I won. George asked me to stand up for him, so I won the bet."

"And what did you win?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in her interest. "What were the stakes, I mean."

"The winner would get four weeks of Saturday breakfasts-in-bed," Ginny explained, watching Hermione warily to gauge her response. Hermione's eyebrows rose near to her hairline at that. "It's not a big deal, though, right? And it certainly does not mean anything. Honestly, I cannot even imagine where Harry would get an idea such as that."

"That may be the most blatant attempt at expressing his feelings that Harry has ever made," Hermione frowned thoughtfully. She rolled her eyes when Ginny scoffed at that. "Oh, you know I'm right, Ginevra Weasley. You are just too chicken to admit it."

Ginny raised a challenging eyebrow at her best friend. "I'm not a chicken; I am a realist, and it is not realistic for me to believe that Harry has any interest in me that extends beyond friendship. He has made that quite clear the past several years, and I've – I'm trying to accept that he doesn't see me that way. I'm working hard to come to terms with that."

Hermione nodded, clucking sympathetically. "I do understand all that, Ginny. Everything you think and feel is completely justified, and I get that. But I want you to think about it for a moment, and admit that when you're being honest with yourself, you know that Harry is…pursuing you."

"I – oh, alright, fine," Ginny huffed in exasperation. "He's flirting with me, yes, but I'm not convinced that he is 'pursuing' me, as you'd put it. Maybe he's just looking for a – a fling!" At Hermione's pointed look, Ginny shrugged in defeat. "Yes, you're right. He'd never do that, ever."

"Especially not to you," Hermione emphasized. "Gin, I don't know why now, but it seems to me that Harry has finally decided that he's free to pursue you. If you don't want this, if you don't want or can't trust him, you had better make that abundantly clear to him. If that's how you feel, it would be better for both of you if this flirtation was stopped now before it really gets started."

Ginny dragged a hand through her hair as she sighed raggedly. "Yeah, you're right, that wouldn't do."

Hermione gaped at her, sputtering, "B-but you can't have already decided! Ginny, think about it! This could be the happiness that you and Harry both deserve, have been waiting for! Don't be so hasty!"

"Oh, erm, I actually meant that I'd try and be relaxed about all of this," Ginny smiled, a touch of shyness behind the gesture. "Maybe even enjoy it a little bit, if possible."

"You – okay then," Hermione giggled in relief. "I really do not think you'll be sorry about this, Gin. This is definitely a good thing, for both of you."

Ginny gave her a wan smile, fidgeting nervously. "I wish I had your optimism. It's just rather hard to let myself hope for the best when it comes to Harry. Sometimes it seems as though I've spent a lifetime being inadvertently crushed by him, you know?"

Hermione felt her heart break a little for Ginny, easily able to recall all of the times Harry had unwittingly and unintentionally hurt her. "Harry would never toy with you like that, Gin. Not on purpose."

Looking up with sad eyes, Ginny managed a small smile. "I guess that's the point then. What if this – all of this – is just in my head? What if I only see it because I want it to be there, so very badly. I know he's never meant to hurt me, but that almost makes it worse in a way. It's like I'm not even worth it, do you understand what I mean?"

"Oh, Ginny, you know that isn't true! You are very important to Harry, and he most certainly gives you plenty of second thoughts," Hermione protested vehemently.

"I know it isn't rational," Ginny agreed tiredly, "But that's just how it feels sometimes."

"It won't feel like that forever. I know it won't, and once you two finally figure things out, then it will all seem worth it," Hermione suggested. "Just give him the chance. And not to sound like my idiotic husband, but bloody hell, give yourself the chance, too!"

In spite of herself, Ginny laughed at her normally prim friend. "I'll do my best," she promised automatically. "I suppose I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor only because of some Weasley default, right? I – I can try. I can certainly flirt back. Erm, that is, I'll continue to flirt back."

Hermione snorted not-so-delicately. "I was going to say that I couldn't imagine a single scenario in which you would not be flirting right back."

"Hey!" Ginny laughed in protest. "I can't help that! Harry's very sexy, and it is extraordinarily hard to resist flirting with him!"

"If you say so," Hermione replied doubtfully. "Personally, I find the hotheaded, passionate, freckled, assertive types to be more satisfying. But, that's just me!"

Ginny groaned at that. "Never refer to my brother and satisfaction in the same sentence again, please. That is wholly inappropriate. Not to mention yucky."

"Your brother – "

"Is my brother," Ginny cut her off before she could really get started, "And would not want me to hear this just as much as I don't want to hear it."

Hermione laughed, used to this from Ginny. "That's fair enough, but when you and Harry finally get to that point, I'm sure I won't want to hear the details either."

"Since I've had to listen to the nasty details of what you and Ron get up to for the last two years, I cannot make any promises," Ginny teased, finally beginning to feel a little better about everything. "Thank you for coming, Hermione. Having you here and talking this through has really helped."

"Anytime, Gin," Hermione beamed, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I wish I could be here all the time, but I suppose it is only another couple of months."

Ginny squeezed back. "Are you going to visit Ron while you are here tonight? He'd love to see you, Hermione. He misses you terribly, you know."

Closing her eyes, Hermione smirked shyly. "It's tempting to not see him and then send an owl tomorrow. That would serve him right." She opened her eyes, staring out the window. "It'd just be very hard to leave tomorrow morning if I saw him now. It's hard enough being here with you."

"Oh, Hermione! Go see him," Ginny encouraged. "He's awful without you, and it'd be even worse if he found out you were here and didn't stop by. Maybe spending some time together will make these last couple of months go a little faster. It might be…refreshing."

"You are right, of course," Hermione smiled, "And I do want to see him. Actually, I think I'll go now, if you don't mind. I don't have much longer before I have to get back, and I'd like to have as much time with him as possible."

"Yes, go!" she agreed, moving to stand. "Just apparate over there! If you catch him doing something weird, I don't want to know!"

Hermione laughed, standing and pulling her shorter friend into a hug. "I'll withhold any inappropriate details, I promise. Okay, well, I'll talk to you soon. You know, you really ought to invest in a cellular phone. It is far more reasonably priced than long-distance flooing."

Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing at Hermione's perseverance on that matter. "You already know that I don't need a regular Muggle telephone let alone one of those fancy, tiny ones." She gave her friend another hug. "Alright, you'd best be going. Have fun. Write soon, I love hearing how things are going."

"I will," Hermione agreed immediately, "And you had better keep me up to date on things with Harry. That's far more interesting than the research I'm doing."

Ginny walked her to the door, sighing when she apparated away. For one split second, she doubted everything they'd just talked about, but she managed to shake the fear and worry off.

"I can do this," she whispered aloud. "Maybe something good will finally come after all of these years of waiting for him. Maybe."

~*~

Ron Weasley was having a visibly bad day; Harry could not help his smirk when he noticed that. Even though his anger at Ron had dulled to minor irritation, it was still amusing and just a little gratifying to see his best friend so flustered and out of sorts. George, on the other hand, was thriving in the boisterous environment of the joke shop.

"Harry, mate!" George called out with a grin and a wave. "Get your skinny ar – erm, rear over here and lend a hand, will you? Can't rest on the laurels of being the Boy Who Triumphed forever, you know!"

Harry rolled his eyes at George, resisting the urge to throw an obscene gesture his way as he felt the eyes of all the customers slide onto him. "That's great, thanks a bunch, George," he muttered sarcastically, nodding towards Ron who seemed to sag in relief at being acknowledged.

George ignored his irritation, reaching out to grab and drag him behind the register. "Let's get this crowd out of here and then close for lunch. Ron, man the door and don't let anyone else in."

Ron nodded reluctantly, muttering under his breath about the stupidity of turning away midgets and their money, but still did as instructed. It took half an hour to clear everyone out, and for Harry, it could not have come a moment too soon. Honestly, this seemed to be far more exhausting than tracking dark wizards.

"How do you do that day in and day out?" Harry asked George as the last customer filed out the door. "It's bloody exhausting is what it is!"

"Eh, you get used to it, most of the time," Ron answered. "Eventually, you don't even feel tired at the end of the day. The little runts even grow on you after awhile."

George snorted at that. "Got the baby bug then, Ron? You better make sure Hermione is ready before you start buying nappies. Oh, and you may actually want to seal the deal with marriage, so Mum doesn't rip your head off."

Ron rolled his eyes as Harry got up to let the delivery boy from the Leaky Cauldron in and paid him for the food Ron had floo-ordered. "Of course I don't plan on bloody knocking her up. Besides, we aren't even ready to buy a house yet, so I know we aren't ready for a midget of our own."

"Hard to make a midget when she's halfway around the world anyway," Harry chimed in. "Probably not the most practical of times."

"She was here last night," Ron offered. "Said to tell you hello, mate. She wished she had time to see you, but it was an unplanned visit and she didn't have a lot of time."

George winked at Harry before turning towards Ron, asking, "Did you call her up and cry about being lonely? Poor, ickle Ronnikins, all by his little lonesome."

"No! I didn't even know she was coming since it was Ginny that she came to visit! That's who called her up with a sob story, not me," Ron muttered defensively.

"Is Gin okay?" Harry asked anxiously, dropping the sandwich he was holding back onto his plate. "Everything's okay, yeah?"

Ron scowled at that. "Hermione wouldn't even tell me what the bloody problem was. Can you believe that? All she'd say was that they had things to discuss, and that it was none of my business. None of my business indeed! My wife and my sister discussing Merlin knows what, and it isn't my business? How is it not my business?"

George leaned toward Harry conspiratorially, whispering (loud enough for Ron to hear), "Well, you know he didn't say that to her, though. If he had, he'd be sporting boils or have been turned into dung or some such thing."

As Harry laughed his agreement, Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course I didn't say that to her! I'd be barmy to do that, and I hoped you get me a room next to Lockhart if I ever tried!"

"See George, I told you he isn't as dumb as he looks," Harry joked, feeling at ease with Ron again, much to his relief.

"Just mostly," George quipped, earning a thump on the arm from Ron. "Oi, that bloody hurt!"

"You had it coming," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich. "Anyway, it was weird. I've been begging her to come and visit or let me visit her for a month now, but the second Ginny needs her, she's here. How the bloody hell is that going to work?"

Harry cleared his throat, frowning. "Is everything really okay with Gin? I – Hermione would say if something were wrong, right?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm sure the golden girl is just fine," he scoffed. "She's the one George chose as his best man, after all."

"Don't start on that again, Ronald," George warned irritably, waving a sandwich in his younger brother's direction. "You know why I chose Gin, and you ought to shut it on the topic." He turned to Harry, who regarded the mischievous glint in his friend's eye warily. "Harry, m'boy, what's your great interest in Gin anyway? I didn't realize you worried so easily over her these days."

"Leave Harry alone," Ron unexpectedly (by Harry, at least) stepped in. "If he wants to worry about Ginny, we should be grateful. She can't have too many of us looking out for her."

Harry, who would've been happy to let it drop at that, groaned when George snickered. "Actually, I don't think he's so much looking out for her as he is looking at her. 'Bout time, I say!"

"Yeah, well, what if I am?" Harry snapped out, suddenly realizing that he didn't care anymore about anyone's opinion on the subject, save Ginny.

"What are you saying?" Ron asked, leaning back in his chair. "Are you – have you started fancying Ginny again?"

"If by fancy you mean crazy in love with and started you mean never stopped," Harry shrugged, "Then yeah, I fancy her again. That's just a pretty paltry term for what I feel."

Both George and Ron stared at him in naked surprise. "Are you serious, mate?" Ron gaped, hastily snapping his mouth shut when he realized it was hanging open. "You love Ginny?"

Sighing deeply, Harry reluctantly nodded in the affirmative. "Yes, I'm in love with your sister. Always have been, in fact. And do you want to know the funny part? I don't even care what you think about it. I don't care what either of you think about it, and I don't care what anyone else thinks of it either!"

"Do you care what Ginny thinks?" George asked, the corners of his mouth twitching up despite his attempts not to laugh. "She may have a thought or two on the subject."

"Of course I care what she thinks!" Harry exclaimed irritably. "She's the only one whose opinion matters to me. I just don't care what anyone else thinks anymore. I don't feel like we need approval."

George raised an eyebrow at that. "And what exactly does the fair Ginevra think about all of this?"

Harry blushed at that and shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. "She – well, I haven't told her yet. I'm actually trying to ease her in slowly to the idea." There was no way Harry would let them in on his real plan – at least not the physical parts of it. "I've been sitting on this for so long now, and maybe I've missed chance, but I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least try."

"So what's the plan?" George asked, a look of unholy glee on his face. "I could help. Lock you two up in a room together 'accidentally' and forget how to let you out. Oh, or slip her a truth lolly! Ron and I have been working on those, and they are about ready for testing! Two birds, one stone. Solid plan."

"Erm, that's okay," Harry demurred, glancing Ron's way. His best friend looked perplexed and not altogether happy, and it took Harry a moment to gather his resolve and remember not to care what anyone else thought about this. "I'd rather not have to trick her into anything. It'd be nice if she actually, you know, has an interest in me, too."

George rolled his eyes and laughed a bit at that. "If you don't know that Ginny has been head over heels in love with you since the first time she saw you, then you are about as hopeless as Ronnikins here is. And I really doubt – and hope – that that is not possible. Too scary to contemplate."

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, for once not bothering to tamp down on the hope that gripped his heart. "I don't want to make any assumptions. Besides, I haven't given her much reason to think of me that way, have I?"

Ron grunted, perhaps in agreement, but did not share his thoughts. George jumped back in, still grinning wildly. "When are you going to tell her? What are you going to say?"

"Bloody hell, George!" Harry laughed. "You sound like a fourth year girl!"

"Maybe I do," George agreed unapologetically, "But I don't even care. This is great, Harry! You and Ginny are perfect for each other, and you both deserve all the happiness in the world. I know you aren't looking for approval and I agree with you on that, but you've definitely got mine nonetheless." He shook his head. "Oi, Mum is going to be over the moon. I hope you're prepared for that."

Ron cleared his throat, nodding. "This is a good thing, Harry, I want both you and Ginny to be happy. Just promise that you mean all this, that it isn't another passing thing, and you'll be ditching her eventually."

Gaping at his friend, Harry shook his head as George looked on. "Ron, I've never ditched Ginny, and I certainly wouldn't now. That's not a very fair thing to ask."

"Sure it is," Ron argued calmly. "You ditched her after our sixth year, and that was really hard on her. That can't happen again; it wouldn't be fair to her."

"I didn't ditch her!" Harry countered hotly. "I broke up to protect her from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It wasn't because I wanted to ditch her! That was the last thing in the world I wanted. My time with her was the happiest time of my life."

"Well, you made her cry!" Ron yelled back as George's eyes swiveled back and forth between the two of them. "You made her cry, and Ginny never cries. Ever. She didn't cry after the Chamber, but she cried over you."

All the fight left Harry at that, and he sagged forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I didn't do that to hurt her, Ron. I thought she knew that."

"She did," George interjects solemnly. "She does. It's just – I think it still hurt, you know? But she understood even if she didn't like it."

"I never mean to hurt her. That's the last thing I wanted to do, but what other choice did I have? She was better off not being associated with me!"

"Yeah? What about after He was gone? You could have gone to her then," Ron challenged, "But no, you left her again." Harry flinched at the verbal blow and Ron sighed. "Look, Harry, I'd be as happy as anyone if you and Ginny were to work things out and end up together. I just want to know that you're serious this time because I don't want to see either of you hurt anymore."

Relaxing, Harry lifted his head to look Ron in the eye. "I'm completely, one hundred percent serious, Ron. I am so in love with her, and I have been since I was sixteen. I'm trying not to waste anymore time, and I want to get her before she's found someone new. I – I don't want to lose her."

Ron's face broke into a wide grin and George reached out to clap Harry on the back. "When are you going to tell her?" George asked. "Sooner the better, I say."

"I can't just blurt it out," Harry sighed. "Even I'm not that big of an arse. I want her to know that I'm serious and that I truly mean this. I want her to trust that this is real, and most of all, I don't want to make her feel trapped or obligated. I want her to want us, too."

"Mate, that's all she's ever wanted," George noted dryly while Ron snickered his agreement. "She probably wouldn't mind you blurting it out even."

"Leave him alone," Ron butted in. "Let him do it his way. Not every relationship is as easy to switch from strictly friends to romantic as yours and Katie's was, you know."

Harry shot him a grateful smile as George rolled his eyes. "That's rubbish and you only say that because it took you so long to tell Hermione how you felt."

Ron shrugged, not taking the least bit of offense to that statement. "Yeah, well, when it happened, we both knew where we stood and what we wanted. Made it a lot simpler that way. Anyway, what I was really saying is that we ought to let Harry do it his way. He and Ginny can figure out what works for them."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry replied, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "Look, I think I'll just keep going about this how I have been so far. It seems like I'm making progress, so why mess with it, right?"

George grinned slyly at Harry. "And does that plan include continuing to drag her off into broom closets during family gatherings? Don't think I hadn't heard about that!"

Harry laughed as Ron gaped at him. "More like she dragged me into one! Besides, it wasn't like that; she was hiding from Wood. He's trying to get her to sigh with Puddlemere, and you know how he is – won't take 'no' for an answer."

"What?" Ron gasped indignantly, jumping out of his seat. "He can't do that! There are a lot of rules and protocols governing player transfers, and why would she go to Puddlemere, anyway? Everyone knows the Cannons are on the way up! If she were to leave the Harpies, then she should go to Chudley. Oh, I am going to have to discuss this with her!"

"Way to go, Harry!" George laughed gleefully. "You've set Ron on her! I hope you realize this won't do much to endear you to her in any way. No one wants to hear the 'How the Cannons are On the Upswing and Why You Should All Do Your Part to Support Their Glorious Ascension' speech."

Harry frowned at his best friend. "Right, Ron, you can't bother Ginny about that. I think she's really happy with the Harpies anyways, so it's most likely a moot point."

Ron didn't look pleased, but to Harry's relief he sat back down. "I just want to remind her of her rights as a player. And maybe remind her about loyalty and how the Cannons recruited her out of school but Puddlemere didn't."

"Look, I'll talk to her about it," Harry sighed, not feeling the need to deal with anymore inadvertent collateral damage caused by Ron. "Besides, you know Gin won't let herself be pushed into anything she doesn't want, so I don't think there is anything to worry about. Plus, Ron, if you'd just kind of, erm, lay low, I'd really appreciate it." At that, George chokes back a laugh as Ron stares at Harry, perplexed. "It's just you already made that awful bet with her and sometimes she takes things you say or do the wrong way. I just want to avoid any further problems."

"And you think I'd cause problems?" Ron asked, scowling irritably. "Is that why you were so mad at me?"

"Quick to catch on as he ever was," George muttered out of the side of his mouth to Harry, an unabashed grin on his face.

Harry ignored George, instead keeping his focus on Ron. "Yeah, Ron. That really put me in a bind, you know? Gin is just stubborn enough to follow through to prove something to you, and I – I can't handle losing her. I know I screwed up after the Final Battle and I lost that chance, but I have to try now and I need you to stay out of it. Please."

George nodded his agreement immediately. "Of course, mate. Discretion is the word. Just so you know, Fred and I – well, we always figured it would be you. In fact, I can't imagine it being anyone else. You're good for her, and she's bloody brilliant for you."

Harry smiled his thanks as George excused himself and went to the back storeroom. Once they were alone, he turned to Ron. "What about you, Ron? What do you think?"

"Ah, hell, Harry. You know I think that there is no one better for either of you, and I really hope it works out this time."

"Glad to hear it," Harry acknowledged with a genuine smile. "I wouldn't have changed my mind if you hated it, but I'm really glad that you aren't opposed to this." He leaned forward, regarding Ron carefully. "What were you on about, Ron? Why would you push her like that and goad her into such a stupid bet? If you really thought that I was the best man for her, why would you do that?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably, but to his credit he maintained eye contact. "Look, Harry. I knew you cared about Gin, but after awhile I thought you'd lost that kind of interest in her. She just seems so lonely sometimes, and she's fun to tease. Look, I'm sorry, and I'll say that to Gin, too. Erm, after, of course."

"Yeah," Harry nodded with a grimace. "I guess that makes sense. That's gonna be the hard part in all this, you know? Proving to her that I won't do that again. I just – that was a bad place I was in after the Final Battle. Then when I was back and doing better, I didn't know how to approach her. I didn't figure she still thought of me that way."

"I bet she'll come right around," Ron encouraged. "George was right in saying that it has always been you for her."

Harry managed a wan smile. "I hope so. I really, really hope so.

~*~

Ginny sat bolt upright in bed, moving only to reach out and grab her wand off the bedside table. Take a deep breath, she strained to hear and identify whatever sound it was that awakened her. She gasped softly as she heard the sound of footsteps in her kitchen.

Not even paying attention to the fact that she was clad only in a pair of pink panties and a very tiny green tank top, Ginny tiptoed towards her bedroom door. She pulled it open slowly, holding her breath and praying that the door wouldn't squeak or do anything else to give her away. She crept silently down the hall as she tried not to think of all the creepy and disgusting reasons that someone might be in her flat.

Just as she was nearing the kitchen, she heard the distinct sound of humming. Frowning and relaxing her death grip on her wand, she peeked around the corner. Her jaw dropped at the sight of Harry Potter rummaging through her refrigerator. Her wand slipped through her slackened grip, clattering against the wood floor.

Harry glanced up at the noise, his eyes widening as he took her – and her lack of clothing – in. "Hey Gin. It's Saturday."

"But I – did I know you were coming?" she asked, unable to tear her gaze away from his. "You scared me, Harry! How did you even get in here?"

"You have crap wards," he answered grimly, avoiding her first question. "It was quite easy to get in here; I think we should do something about that. I don't like how easy it was for me to get in here, Gin. Honestly, if your mother knew, she'd have a fit. I'm truly surprised that Bill and Fleur didn't ward this place up for you."

She tapped her foot impatiently, brushing aside his concerns with a wave of her hand. "Fine, fine, you can fix them if you think it is necessary. But Harry, what are you doing here at nine in the morning?"

He grinned at that, gesturing around the kitchen as he did his best to keep his eyes above her shoulders. She could tell that was not easy for him. "I'd never welch on a bet with you, Ginevra. I'm here to pay up and treat you to the best breakfast of your life."

"Wow, that's quite the promise," Ginny smiled in return, waking up enough to flirt back. "Are you certain you can make good on that? I'd hate for your performance to under whelm in any way."

Harry swallowed hard as she approached, and she inwardly cheered when his cheeks brightened in a pink blush. She was definitely honest enough with herself to admit that she liked – no, loved, delighted in, thrilled on – having such an effect on him. There was definitely something very powerful and womanly in that, and the way he was looking at her left her feeling giddy and breathless.

He took a deep breath and reached out a hand to settle on her shoulder, and it was her turn to blush as his fingers trailed lightly over her skin. "Hey Gin?" he murmured, stepping so close that she'd just have to lean forward a fraction of an inch for full body contact. "I thought the expression was 'heart on your sleeve'."

"Huh?" was her intelligent reply. When he glanced meaningfully down with a smirk, her eyes followed and she let out a small squeak at the red heart front and center on her underwear before turning and fleeing for her bedroom. She only stopped long enough to pick her wand up off the floor. "Oh, my goodness," she muttered to herself, "He saw my panties. Harry bloody Potter saw my panties."

She flopped facedown on her unmade bed groaning loudly. She knew her face was a flaming red, and she willed herself to calm down. Wasn't this sort of what she wanted? If the look on his face was anything to go by, it wasn't that much of a hardship for him to see it, so what was she so embarrassed about? If she was going to do as she'd promised Hermione and get over herself enough to be open to this, then why not actively pursue it, at least a little?

Grinning to herself with more confidence, she got up off the bed and padded over to her dresser. If he thought she would be waiting under the covers for him in head to toe flannel, he had another thing come. After pulling out an old quidditch t-shirt of Harry's from the drawer, she set her bed to rights with a quick wave of her wand. She quickly stripped off her tank top next and pulled on the shirt from his third year, wondering how long it would take him to realize whose it once had been. After fixing her hair and fussing with her appearance for a second, she turned to the bed.

She leaned the pillows up against the headboard before situating herself against them. She considered grabbing a book or her Harpies playbook, but decided she didn't care if she looked pathetically eager since she was in fact just that. Just as she was about to give in to her impatience and go check on him, the door swung open admitting him and a large tray of food.

"Finally," she breathed happily, taking in the heavily laden tray (complete with a red rose in a bud vase) with wide eyes. "Harry, you've made enough for Ron! I hope you didn't think I eat that much!"

"Actually, I was kind of hoping that if I made enough, you would invite me to join you," he admitted shyly which only served to endear to him to her even more. Who knew that would be possible? He set the tray down next to her, grinning as she patted the spot on her other side. "That my invitation then?"

She laughed, nodding her head. "Yes, now get over here and tell me what everything is. Some of this looks like pudding!"

Settling down beside her so close that their arms and legs are touching, he settled back against the pillow. "I know I promised your favorites, but I was watching this cooking show on the telly, and – "

"Cooking show?" Ginny echoed as her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah," he laughed as he handed her a plate. "It's sort of a demonstration that teaches recipes and such. I was flipping past one that had breakfast items, and since I knew I needed to do something special for you, I watched."

She nearly swooned at the sentiment. "Well, I'd say that you have more than succeeded," she beamed, lightly bumping her shoulder into his side. "Aside from the fact that you nearly gave me a heart attack with the breaking and entering, this is really lovely, Harry. Thank you so much."

Harry fairly beamed at the praise although it was tempered by the bright blush on his cheeks. "You don't have to thank me for this. You earned it fair and square, and anyway, I think the benefits that I'm reaping are far superior," he smirked, glancing down to where her bare leg rested against his denim-clad one.

She knew that he was trying to elicit a blush from her, but she just smiled and looked at the food. "So, tell me what we have here."

"Oh, well, as you can see, what we have here is clearly very fancy," Harry intoned dramatically, earning a giggle from Ginny. "Aside from the bacon and eggs, we have French toast stuffed with strawberry crème and garnished with fresh strawberries on top. I know you like strawberries, and I figured that this would be a nice treat. Hopefully it turned out okay. I've been practicing the last couple of nights."

And just like that, she plummeted further into the Harry love pit she'd been falling into for half her life. Godric, he was absolutely perfect, and in that moment she resolved, despite her insecurities, to go after this. She wanted Harry, and she wanted a life with him. In that moment, it was so perfectly crystal clear that no one else could ever mean this much to her or make her so happy with such a small gesture that was really so much more.

She balanced her plate on her leg and grabbed his free hand in hers. "This is wonderful, Harry. It looks and smells wonderful, but even if it tastes awful, it would still be wonderful. I'm just so glad to have this time to spend with you. That is what really makes it wonderful."

"I can't argue with that, but I still hope that the food is edible," he winked, squeezing her hands before releasing them. "Here, give me your plate and I'll serve you."

"You don't have to do that," she laughed, a little overwhelmed by the attention. In fact, I should probably be serving you since you went to all this trouble."

"It's not trouble for you, Gin," Harry countered quickly and firmly. "This is…it's as much for me as it is for you, in some ways, and wow, that sounds selfish." She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when he shook his head. "No, it's just that my job is depressing sometimes and hard the rest of the time. This is a really nice escape for me, being here with you. I have fun when I'm with you and I feel good and most importantly, you don't try and make me talk about work, but you listen when I do want to talk about it. I'm sure I've never told you because I'm a total prat, but it means a lot to me."

She shifted so that she was facing him, her knees resting against his leg. "I'm really glad that you know I'm here for you, Harry. However you need." She set her hand on his thigh, offering him a wry smile. "Ron and Hermione both the ability to be incredibly…well, pushy, sometimes. They both mean well, but neither are good at giving space when they think they know what is for the best." She wrinkled her nose in remembrance. "Did you know that all throughout my second year, Hermione would just stare expectantly at me, waiting for me to tell her about Tom and the diary. She never really accepted that I didn't want to talk about it. Funnily enough, she's the same now."

Harry laughed, picking up the hand on his thigh and holding it in his own. "They both are. And they are great friends, but sometimes talking about the bad things doesn't help. Sometimes you just need something good to counter it. I'm so glad you're willing to be my good."

"Anytime." She smiled, although she really wanted to blurt out that she would be his everything, if he wanted. Shaking that thought out of her head, she picked up her plate and cut a bite of French toast, taking care to get a strawberry. "Here, take a bite. If it doesn't kill you, I'll give it a go myself."

He pouted at her, but dutifully took the proffered bite. "Well, I'm still living," he shrugged. "I think you'll be fine."

Ginny laughed as she speared another bite onto her fork. His eyes followed the fork all the way to her mouth, watching her reaction closely. "Mmm, Harry! This is delicious! How are you not cooking breakfast for me all the time?"

Harry beamed, delighted that she was enjoying it. "You really like it then? Your mum is a tough one to keep up with in the kitchen department, and everything I've eaten that you've made has been wonderful. I wasn't sure if anything I did could compare."

"Oh, it's very good," she promised, taking another bite. "Honestly, Harry. With cooking skills like this, you could get any girl in the world."

He sort of shrugged that assertion off, to her amusement. "I don't want any girl in the world," he said quietly, "And I kind of keep hoping that the one I do want likes me for more than my cooking ability which does not extend beyond breakfast, by the way."

She was so tempted to push him a little, but thinking on her conversation with Hermione, she decided that she would let him do this in his own time and way. Providing it didn't take too long, of course. "Just breakfast? You'll have to find a Muggle cooking show that can teach you dinner, then." She took another bite of the French toast. "Of course, there are two other options."

"Take away?" he asked cheekily, picking up a piece of bacon.

"Not likely," Ginny laughed, grabbing a piece of the bacon for herself. "I was going to say that you could eat this for every meal, as it is absolutely scrumptious or you could come over here for hands on cooking lessons."

His eyes brightened at that, and he grinningly poured her a cup of tea. "Those both sound like great ideas, but I think, if you really meant it, that I'd prefer the latter."

"Of course I meant it!" was her enthusiastic reply. "I think we'd have a lot of fun. You know, we haven't seen much of each other the last couple of years, and I've really enjoyed spending time with you recently. It's been really great, and if I have to bribe you with meals to get it to continue, well, I'm not above that."

"I don't think a bribe is necessary, but cooking lessons and dinner certainly do the trick. And Gin? I – I'm really glad we are spending time together, too. I just have such a good time when I'm with you." He paused, glancing down at the shirt she had on. "Hey, was that my shirt?"

She just smiled brightly at him, offering him another bite of the French toast from her fork. "Me too, Harry." She teasingly pulled the fork back before he could get the bite. He growled playfully as he leaned into and over her, his mouth open in expectation as she started giggling before giving in and allowing him the bite. "Good?"

He nodded slowly in response to her question. Unable to tear her gaze away from his, she wordlessly offered him another bite, her eyes riveted to his mouth when he accepted it, licking a bite of the strawberry crème from the corner of his lips. "Gin?" he murmured quietly. "May I ask you something? It's kind of personal, so if you don't want to answer, I would understand."

"You can ask me anything, Harry. I'm sure I won't mind."

Harry nodded, pausing for a moment before awkwardly blurting out, "How long do you plan to play quidditch?"

She quirked an eyebrow up at that as she smiled curiously. "That's not exactly a personal question. I suppose I'll play until I have a reason to stop."

"What would be a good reason to stop?" he asked, his eyes intent on her face.

"Oh," she breathed out slowly, settling back into the cushy pillows. "I suppose that's a little more personal, but it is an easy question. The best reason, for me, would be having a family. I mean, I don't want to be just like my mum and not work, but quidditch is not a good profession for a mother. I'd want to devote myself to my family without worrying about travel and injuries and all the other things."

He nodded, a small, satisfied smile on his face. She wanted to respond in kind or perhaps jump on him and express her love, but she again strengthened her resolve to let this whole thing happen at Harry's pace. He initiated it, so they'd do it his way and she'd be happy about it.

Deciding not to let him get away with too much, she nudged him with her foot as she asked, "What about you? Would anything get you to give up some of your more dangerous missions and cases?"

Harry shrugged, but looked surprised to have the question thrown back at him. "I don't know," he admitted. "The only thing I'd consider it for would be a family, but at the same time I wonder if having that family would make me feel even more compelled to do more to make the world safer for them. Then again, I wouldn't want my wife or child to end up all alone like me."

"Oh, Harry, you are not alone," she breathed out slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "You have so many people who love and adore you and would gladly welcome you into their family. You're already as good as a Weasley, you know. You are one of us, and you get all the good and the bad that comes with that."

"It's only good," he chuckled, his breath warm and tickly on the side of her neck. He hugged her back tightly as he tried hard not to notice (too much) the feel of her silky skin and hair or the heat of her bare legs where they rested against his. "Your whole family has been far too good to me since the day I met you. It's just…not the same, you know? I've just never felt whole, and I think it's because I don't have a family of my own. That's probably a little ridiculous and a lot maudlin since I've never known anything else, right?"

To his own regret, she pulled back and put a little distance between them. "It isn't either of those things at all, Harry, and even if it were, you are entitled to your feelings." She paused, taking a deep breath and pasting on a bright, mischievous smile. "I think this is pretty much a moot point anyway. I know that you'll have that family any time now. After all, you've got Hero's pick of the ladies now."

He rolled his eyes, entirely missing the playful look on her face. "It's not like I want just anyone, though. In fact, I only want – erm, never mind," he cut off in a hot blush.

To his great relief, she didn't press him any further. Instead, she leaned forward and stated in earnest, "You'll get everything you want, Harry. I have absolutely no doubt of that. You just have to take it."

"You know," he smiled widely, leaning forward to brush a kiss over her cheek, "Hearing you say that helps. It kind of makes me feel better knowing that you think it will happen for me. That means a lot."

"I'm not the only one who believes you deserve the best, you know. And I'm certainly not the only one who wants it for you either," she reminded him, willfully not adding that she want it for him especially if it were with her.

They fell into lighter conversation after that as they continued to eat, playfully debating the Harpies' chance at the league title. They laughed at Ron's plight with Hermione, chatted about how big Victoire was getting, and talked about George and Katie's upcoming wedding. Ginny had a marvelous time sitting and laughing on her bed with Harry, and she was sure he liked it as much as she did. Once breakfast was finished, Ginny did the dishes while Harry brought down her old wards and put up new ones to ensure her safety.

All in all, this felt so right to her, and when Harry reluctantly took his leave early that afternoon, the piece of her that he took with him was larger than ever.