Draco stopped by several times during that week, and more often than not, they ended up talking too long in to the night about everything and nothing of course. It was all good fun, but Harry felt as though he'd been hit by a brick every morning he had to get up at seven to get to work. At work he'd gotten some progress done on a loose werewolf that were pestering a village up in Scotland, so he'd sent out some of the more experienced aurors to deal with that.

Harry hoped Ginny had come home, as he stretched after a long day at work. He decided to walk home, seeing as it wasn't too far, he could use the fresh air to awaken him after a long night talking to Draco. Right he was, when he came home, he found Ginny making dinner in the kitchen.

"Harry," she squealed and threw herself around his neck. "I've missed you so much! You won't believe how much fun I've had at the trip. We went to Italy to research some-"

Harry lost track of what she was saying, and he simply sat staring at her. Listening to her talk was so different from talking to Draco, he was much calmer and talked in a less happy-high-school-girl-manner than Ginny. She continued to chat about some Hinkypunks disturbing them when they were going to Venice, but Harry was only half-listening. Recalling yesterday's conversation with Draco about the incident with the filibuster firework in Goyle's cauldron, he had to laugh to himself.

"I know, right," Ginny said, he'd obviously laughed in the right place. "Anyway, so Dean was saying –"

"Dean," Harry said, "Dean Thomas?"

"Yes, I work with him, haven't I told you?"

"No. You haven't," Harry said, he was looking curiously at her.

"I must have forgotten… Anyway, dinner is served."

"Him not hungry anymore," Harry said, somewhat grumpily. "I forgot… I forgot something at the office, I need to go."

"Harry, don't be like that," Ginny said. "There's nothing going on between me and Dean, Harry!"

But Harry had disapparated, and appeared a few seconds later outside the Leaky Cauldron. How he'd figured that he should go there was beyond him, but he went in, and quickly found the blonde head he was looking for. Draco was sitting at a table for himself, looking murderous at some witches who were talking amongst themselves, and Harry could definitively hear the words Death Eater.

Demonstrating, Harry cleared his throat. "Draco," he said loudly and strode towards him, the witches were positively gaping at him.

"Potter, right at the nick of time," Draco said, his eyes lighting up as Harry sat down. "I seriously considered hexing them, but I thought it wouldn't be too good for my reputation."

"I think you're right," Harry mused, "although, no one would care if I hexed them," he added in an undertone. Draco laughed heartily at that, and held up his glass in a cheer.

"Why are you here anyway," Draco asked after Harry had gotten his drink from Tom. "I thought Ginny was supposed to come home today."

"Ginny has been working with Dean Thomas," Harry said sourly, "without telling me of course. And she is so talkative. She does nothing but babble on and one about Hinkypunks and whatnot, and I just… can't keep up with her. How the fuck can she be so incredibly happy all the time."

"I thought you said you were happy," Draco said in a mock-serious voice. Harry just huffed. If he was to continue to hang out with Draco, he thought to himself, he seriously needed to consider alcoholism.

"I am," Harry said slowly. "At least I think so."

"If you only think you're happy, you're not," Draco said, now serious. "You know when you're happy, man. Like, I know that firewhisky makes me happy, I know that your dog makes me fucking happy, and I know that talking to you makes me happy. These are all stuff I know. Tell me, when do you know you're happy, Potter?"

Draco was obviously drunker than Harry initially had thought. "My dog makes me happy," Harry said, a little insecure about the general direction of the conversation. "Hanging out with Ron and Hermione makes me happy, treacle tart makes me very happy, and of course, talking to you."

Draco grinned. "There you have it. Those are stuff you're sure about. If you're not sure about Ginny, then chuck her out, or make an effort to be happy. Whatever floats your boat, you know."

"How much have you had to drink, Draco," Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Just a few," Draco answered with a smile. "Why?"

"You don't sound like yourself."

"Hah! I'm a firm believer that one is most oneself when drunk," he mused. "Now, give me another, Tom!" Harry had to laugh, and in spite of himself, he ordered another firewhisky himself. Ginny probably worried about him though, but right now, he simply didn't care. Talking to Malfoy made him happy, so he should talk to Malfoy, even if it was for just one more night.

The morning after, however, Harry deeply regretted his decision. The light was pouring in through the curtains, which made Harry's headache ten times worse than it already was. Grumpily he shoved Foy down from the bed, and got up. Coffee, he needed coffee. Downstairs, however, Ginny was sitting, looking sour. Harry seriously considered going back to bed, but she spotted him before he could turn around.

"Harry James Potter," she growled. "Where on earth were you last night? You had me worried sick you bastard!"

"Keep your voice down, Ginny," Harry said as he was rubbing his temples. Sounds were so not good for him right then. "Do we have any coffee?"

"On the counter. Where the fuck were you last night?"

"I ran into someone at the office, and we went to the Leaky Cauldron, okay," Harry said, tampering the truth just enough. Harry didn't know why, but he still couldn't bring himself to tell Ginny that he actually spent, and enjoyed, time with Draco Malfoy.

"Who?"

"Just some colleagues, Ginny, chill," Harry said. "It's not like you tell me about everyone you work with either."

"Oh my God, I forgot to mention that I work with Dean Thomas," Ginny said furiously. "What the fuck is your problem? He's just a guy!"

"A guy you used to fuck," Harry drawled. "But by all means, enjoy yourselves. I'll be at home, taking care of everything so you can have your perfect little life."

"You're taking care of everything," Ginny huffed. "That is the stupidest fucking thing I've heard in ages. What is there to take care of?"

"Well, for starters, I'm paying the bills," he said angrily, "your little journalist wage isn't enough to pay even for the groceries, so I take care of the mortgage, the electricity, everything."

Ginny looked like she was about to hex him, but she obviously came to her senses. They stood in silence for a while, Harry's head still pounding, but thinking about Draco's words last night If you only think you're happy, you're not.

"Ginny," Harry said silently after a while. He sat down by the counter, his head in his hands. "Are you happy?"

"I… of course," she answered, a little insecure.

Harry sighed, how could he say against her? She knew if she was happy, and he owed her to be happy. He'd signed the marriage contract, he'd promised her to live with her for good and band, through sickness and health. So Harry kept his mouth shut, and went to bed again.

Life went back to normal pretty quickly, neither of them were people who lingered over fights for very long, but Foy seemed to know what was on Harry's mind. He kept clinging to his side like Harry was the only person in the world, and Harry couldn't blame him. When alone, Harry was depressed and angry, but he kept his smile on for Ginny's sake.

It was a gloomy September day, Harry and Ginny went to Ron and Hermione for dinner. Hermione had whipped up some sort of Italian dish, and it tasted absolutely delicious. They were laughing and cheering all night, and it was all good fun.

"Oh, Harry, I forgot to tell you," Hermione said with a bright smile. "Percy came to me about the act you proposed to the minister, and we're making happen!"

"That's great news, Hermione," Harry said happily. Maybe now, Draco could get some peace when he walked outside. He was still being pestered, even though he and Harry were seen together frequently.

"What act," Ginny asked interested.

"I ran into Draco Malfoy a couple of months ago," Harry said, choosing to ignore Hermione snorting into her food (he'd finally told her about him talking to Draco a lot). "And this girl came up to us and asked why I was with him, seeing as he's a Death Eater." Harry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I went to Kingsley with it, and it obviously worked."

Ginny, however, did not look happy.

"There is another thing, Harry," Hermione said even more happily, "I've been doing some research on amortentia, and I've been whipping it up in the potions room." Hermione and Ron had a very wizard-ish house, with their own room for brewing potions and practising spell work.

"Really? Are you getting anywhere?"

"Yes, we're trying to isolate the ingredients, to figure out exactly why it smells like the things we love the most, and I think I finally got it."

"That's good," Harry said as they walked in to the room. The potion was brewing happily in a cauldron, and the fumes were positively making Harry dizzy. He could smell the familiar scent of treacle tart, the smell of Foy's fur, and something that strangely reminded him of apples. Harry had never been a fan of apples, maybe she'd made it wrong.

"Hermione," he said with a look of concern on his face. "Are you sure you've made this right?"

"Yes, pretty sure," Hermione said. "Is it something about the colour?"

"No," Harry voiced, "just… Nothing. It's probably nothing."

Hermione looked at him with concern, but didn't say anything else. She locked up the room, and they went back to the sitting room. Ginny was chatting with Ron about what on earth to get their mother for Christmas, and Harry was sitting rather solemn, looking at the fireplace.

"What's wrong, Harry," Hermione said as she sat next to him.

"Nothing… Nothing," Harry answered absent-mindedly.

"What did you smell," she asked.

"The usual," Harry lied quickly. "Treacle tart, Foy's fur, Ginny's hair."

Harry hoped the lie would be enough for Hermione, but form the look upon her face, it was not. "Harry James Potter," she said silently. "I've known you since we were eleven years old. I can tell when there is something wrong with you."

"Just, leave it, Hermione," Harry snapped. He was desperately trying to figure out where he'd smelled that apple-like scent before, but he couldn't get anywhere with it. He'd never been fond of apples, and it was like the smell… that smell suddenly went to his brain like a fever. He needed to figure out what it was, and soon.

"I could smell you," Ginny said as they were lying in bed that night. Harry pretended to be asleep. He felt a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it away. It wasn't something he needed to deal with right now. The smell was still strong in his head, and he needed to find out what it was, he really needed to know.

He fell asleep, and could dream of nothing but green apples.


A/N: Good morning everybody! It's 10am here(wait, what?). This chapter is on the shorter side, and I'm sorry. But my chapters aren't really that long to begin with. If it wouldn't take three months between each chapter, I would merge two and two together, but I just wouldn't write them out fast enough for my liking. As to where this story will be going, I have no idea. I'm currently writing Chapter 6 by the way, so chapter 5 won't take long to be uploaded.

So I'm gonna end my rant here. So

Read and Review

xoxo, LiKv