A/N: I am really posting this as quickly as possible. Thank you for being so patient. The internet is being very weird for me (sometimes it's working, sometimes it's not) so my sincerest apologies if these chapters are long time coming!!! Thanks for all the great reviews!

Chapter Seven

Ginny yawned as the closing credits rolled across the screen.

"See, wasn't that a good movie?" Hermione said with a sigh. Ginny rubbed her eyes and yawned again.

"Hermione, it was a documentary. A documentary about the diminishing population of fig trees," Ginny said, trying to muster up some disgust through her exhaustion.

"Not 'fig trees.' Fihrees, which are trees that--"

"Hermione, are you CRAZY? I just sat through 2 hours of that and you're about to lecture me on the exact same topic? Do you even WANT to live to see your wedding?" Ginny asked, her energy spiking as she realized she might have to fight Hermione to keep her from turning on another documentary.

Hermione blushed. "Sorry."

Ginny yawned again and shook her head in disbelief. Hermione was something else.

"But speaking for death wishes, are you still seeing that one guy-- Artemis?" Hermione said not too subtly.

"Antius," Ginny corrected her. "Oh no, Antius. I forgot!" Ginny ran out of the room. Hermione heard her in the next room over, rummaging through a desk.

"So, you are still seeing that guy," Hermione said, when Ginny returned with a scrap of paper. Ginny shrugged and sat down.

"Hey, it keeps life interesting."

"Ginny, he's crazy. His idea of fun is figuring out a potion that'll make him sprout wings--and then leaping off the roof whether he grew them or not." Hermione switched off the TV and turned her attention to the redhead beside her. Ginny was scribbling furiously on the piece of paper.

"Look, he's not even around at the moment. I told him I'd write while he was in Thailand. I figured he'd be lonely."

"I'm sure the hospital in Thailand has plenty of other patients to keep him company," Hermione said sourly. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Hermione, you act like he has a death wish."

"He does, Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed. Ginny ignored her and gave a shrill whistle. Waiting quietly in the room, the girls could hear a frantic fluttering begin at the top of the house. Moments later, Pigwidgeon was flapping frenetically around the room.

"Taught him that," Ginny said proudly. She attached the note to Pig, along with brief instructions. Pig hooted and flew out the window.

"You could do a lot better than Antius," Hermione continued, crossing her arms as she stared at Ginny. "What do you really know about him anyway?"

Ginny sighed. She'd had this battle with Ron before. And Mum. And Dad. She was sure that if the rest of the family knew, they'd be down her throat as well. Harry, too.

"I know that he...he works at The Corner Pub," Ginny said, trying to wave off that last thought of Harry. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I could figure that out by looking at his tax returns, Ginny. I mean, what do you KNOW about him?"

"He...hates peaches," Ginny said proudly. "Something to do with his childhood, I think."

"Oh forgive me. I see you have a solid, healthy relationship. Well, just ignore my advice. I'm sure one day you guys will get around to talking about vegetables. But then, we don't want to rush anything!" Hermione said sarcastically.

"What do you care anyway?" Ginny retorted. She turned on her defenses, which meant ignoring Hermione's questions and coming up with a few of her own. "Do you think everyone wants to be married at 22? I'm still young, Hermione. And I'm not the only person my age who isn't married!"

"I didn't say--" Hermione started, but Ginny's voice rolled over her. She was uncomfortable talking about her relationship with Antius, mostly because she didn't understand it herself.

"Take Harry for example! He's still single and does it bother him?" Ginny said loudly. One of Hermione's eyebrows shot toward her hairline.

"Doesn't it?" she asked calmly. Surprised that Hermione had turned the tables on what Ginny had thought was a rhetorical question, Ginny felt her temper rise.

"I'm not going to get into Harry's love life with you, Hermione. Wasn't it you who said earlier you weren't into idle gossip?" Ginny retorted mimicking Hermione's complacent crossed-arm pose.

"You brought it up!" Hermione said with a slight smile. "You were the one who dragged Harry's name into this."

Ginny was really losing her temper now, but mostly at herself. She hated how Hermione played this game: staying cool and collected as if she had all the answers, and it only made Ginny lash out more. Ginny also mentally kicked herself for bringing up Harry. He had already gotten mad at her once that day and just within an hour of his arrival. She really didn't need to add any more strikes against herself.

"Fine." Ginny sank back against the couch with a pout.

"Fine," Hermione said and settled into the cushions. Ginny watched her carefully, suspicious of the gears she could practically hear turning in Hermione's brain.

"Why do you care?" Ginny said sourly. The words flew out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about it. Hermione let the tone roll off her back and she merely shrugged.

"Care about what?" Hermione yawned and began cleaning up their mess of snacks.

"Never mind," said Ginny sharply. She remained on the couch sulking as she watched Hermione clean. Various thoughts raced through her mind, most of them sour and immature, consisting of "It's not fair" and "No one understands." One thought occurred to her that made all the others suddenly pause their ranting.

~ Harry would understand, ~ she thought. Ginny wasn't quite sure what made her think so, but she stood anyway.

"Well, if you're done crucifying me, I'm going to bed now," Ginny said, loud than necessary. Hermione didn't look up.

"Alright. See you in the morning," she responded distractedly. Ginny marched out of the room, not bothering to take her bag of cheese puffs with her.

Once on the stairs, Ginny paused. The best place to look for Harry would be his "temporary residence," otherwise known as Fred and George's old room. Ginny felt suddenly awkward as she realized how late it was. Then she remembered her annoyance at Hermione and she started down the stairs.

She knocked on Harry's door, and heard a muffled response. Taking it as a welcome, she opened the door a crack.

"Harry?" Her voice obviously startled Harry, for he gave a start, and Ginny heard a THUD reverberate through the room. She opened the door wider and saw Harry deep in the closet, boxes pushed into the room. Some were opened, and some were shivering as though they were ready to explode if someone didn't attend to them.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, closing the door behind her as Harry's swear words increased in volume. His head peered around the closet door, glasses slightly askew.

"Oh, Ginny. I thought you were Ron. Sorry," he apologized. Ginny took a few steps forward, glancing into the closet.

"What are you doing?" she repeated.

"Oh! Looking for some sheets. The ones on the bed were, um, well, old." Harry held up the yellowed sheet that was more holes than fabric. Ginny blushed.

"Sorry," she said, grabbing the sheets. "Mum must've forgot she didn't change them."

"No problem," said Harry brightly, standing up. He remembered to duck as he stood this time and narrowly avoided hitting the overhead shelf again. Ginny pointed to a box on the shelf, which was slightly out of her reach.

"That one," she said. Harry obliged, and pulled it down. Ginny pulled out a set of sheets. The bright blue color had faded somewhat, and the elastic on the fitted sheet was stretched, but it was certainly an improvement.

"Thanks," Harry said, as Ginny stuffed the old sheets back into the box. She took the new ones from Harry.

"Here, let me. You're our guest," she reminded him as Harry began to object. He obeyed and sat on the opposite bed while Ginny made the other.

"So, what did you need?" Harry asked. He found he enjoyed watching her brush her hair out of her face for it only to fall forward again.

"What?" Ginny stood. "Oh, yeah. You need to put your friends on a leash."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked as she gave a tug to the fitted sheet. Having forgotten that the elastic was worn, Ginny sighed in exasperation as the sheet came off the bed again.

"It means," she said, going around to the other side and replacing the sheet, "that Hermione was getting all over my personal life. And lecturing me."

"Well, that comes with the territory of being Hermione. When you're so much more educated than everyone else, it's a crime not to share it," Harry said with a grin. Ginny snorted.

"Yeah, well, I've had enough on that subject, but she still didn't need to get all matronly," Ginny said tautly.

"I understand. Ron decided to provide philosophical insight into my life tonight, too," Harry said with a sigh.

"Really? Maybe if we gang up on them, they'll quit. I take Ron, you take Hermione."

"No way!" Harry laughed. "You take Hermione. I don't have a death wish!"

"What IS it with you people and death wishes?" Ginny said in exasperation.

"Not following," Harry said. Ginny was clearly upset about something. But the fact that she had come to him to vent her frustration was enthralling. Not that she had much choice this time of night, but still...

"Oh, Ron and Hermione, and Mum and Dad all claim Antius has a 'death wish.' He just lives on the edge, that's all! OK, so he makes me a little nervous, sometimes, but isn't that what keeps a relationship interesting? Is it so wrong to have a little spontaneity?" Ginny tucked the sheet under the mattress viciously. Harry's heart sunk as he realized Antius was a bit more than a friend.

"Whoa, a 'death wish?' Sure, spontaneity is great, but not insanity, Ginny," Harry said carefully. Ginny glared at him.

"You don't know him."

"With all due respect, wouldn't something tip you off if your family and friends don't like him? They only want what's best for you," Harry said. This was not going well, he could tell by the tight expression on Ginny's face. She clearly did not come expecting another lecture.

"I'm not going to lecture you again," Harry said smoothly. "But I'm just suggesting that maybe you look at the relationship from their point of view. And if you don't like what you see..." Harry shrugged as punctuation.

"Well, what about you? I mean, are you really qualified to be giving out love advice? When was the last time you had a girlfriend? Maybe I should talk to Neville," Ginny said sharply. Harry didn't let on that she'd stung him.

"You'd probably end up being seduced," he said, ignoring her previous words. "I'm done lecturing, I promise."

Ginny was still angry that Harry couldn't be a bit more sympathetic. Why wasn't anyone saying, "Well if you like him, he must be some lucky guy" or "Sometimes people are hard to get close to, but I'm glad you can see the good in this guy"?

"Didn't you get tired of Ron lecturing you?" she said angrily. Harry shrugged.

"It wasn't a lecture so much as he simply cornered me."

"Into what?"

"Teaching next year."

"Really?" Ginny stopped arranging the bed to look at Harry. She grinned. "That's great!"

"Yeah, I'm getting a little excited about it myself," Harry said, realizing it was true.

"Well you've got time to prepare. School doesn't start until August, so you've got four months to get your act together!" Ginny's demeanor had lightened by Harry's confession. She finished the bed and took a step back.

"Better?"

"Much," Harry said, not bothering to look at the bed. He wished he could come up with some excuse to be near her, to touch her.

~ Damn it, if only she were only mad enough to cry, ~ he thought for one crazy moment. He wished Ron hadn't said anything about Ginny. Now that he was more aware of it, Harry was more conscious about his actions around Ginny. And more conscious of her actions as well.

"Is that all you and Ron talked about?" Ginny asked. She couldn't help it if she was naturally nosy...

"Um...not quite. We talked about my love life, too," Harry confessed nervously. He followed that comment with awkward silence. He had a feeling Ginny wanted him to continue, but he didn't feel like lying, and knew that he wasn't ready to tell her, either.

"They just can't mind their own business. I bet he tried setting you up with a girl, didn't he?" Ginny said, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, yes and no...just kind of hinted at it," Harry said, still sitting on the bed. He clenched his hands into fists, fearful of what turn the conversation may take. Ginny shook her head and muttered under her breath.

"Well, I say good for you, Harry. You should live whatever way you want and don't let them pressure you. Just because you happen to like your life doesn't mean there's anything wrong with it," Ginny said sternly. She closed the closet doors and then sat by Harry on the bed. They both stared straight ahead; Ginny musing, Harry sweating.

"Not quite," Harry said. He wanted to kick himself. If he agreed with her, she'd just let it lie. Why did he open his stupid mouth?

"Oh." Ginny said. She turned to Harry. "Well, that still doesn't mean you have to give in to him. I know Ron thinks he's doing something nice, but it's really just a slap in the face."

"Yeah," Harry said, remembering the nervous energy he had felt when Ron was holding his own modest form of The Inquisition. He certainly would have preferred a slap in the face to the agonizing tension then...and now.

"Well, thanks for letting me rant, I guess," Ginny said with semi- smile, and stood. "G'night, Harry." Ginny bent down and gave Harry a kiss goodnight on the cheek. She turned to go and Harry grabbed her hand. He be damned if he let her keep that boyfriend. Ginny stopped and turned to face Harry again.

"Ginny, just...just think about what I said, OK?" Ginny took a breath, and Harry thought she might blow him off again. Then she smiled.

"OK. Good-night." Harry released her and she left the room, closing the door behind her.