AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh lookie - I updated! Sorry it's been a while since my last chapter – I had hit some sort of writer's block, sadly. Yes, it happens to the best of us. Haha.. So, enjoy and READ AND REVIEW, please!

Ginny yawned, stretched, and turned to her side to see no one else occupying the bed. She sat up, bed hair sticking out in odd places, and sniffed as she wiped her mouth. She looked around the Head Girl's dorm, surprised to find the Head Girl herself all dressed and ready in her uniform for classes that morning. "Erm…Good morning."

"Good morning," Hermione replied briskly. "You might want to take a nice shower before you get dressed for classes. Your hair kind of looks like it is one of Crookshanks's relatives." She smiled slightly.

Ginny touched the back of her head vaguely, "Yeah…alright." She got out of the bed, still donning her underwear garments, and passed Hermione as she walked into the bathroom. As she shut the bathroom door, she turned to look at Hermione, concerned to see her acting indifferent; as if yesterday's events hadn't happened. As if she didn't break down, crying into the red-head's arms. That the pair hadn't almost…as if they weren't very intimate with each other that night before. So intimate, so close, that it was…hot, for lack of a better word.

She shuddered slightly and stepped into the warm shower, willing the water drops to wash away her concern, and to prepare her for the day that was to come. Classes, professors, fellow students, and Ron.

Ginny stepped out of the shower and grabbed a fluffy white towel, wrapping it tightly around herself. When she opened the bathroom door, she saw Hermione just sitting on the edge of her four-post bet, as she had been the afternoon before. "Hermione…? How are you feeling?"

She looked up from her twiddling fingers. "Nervous," she answered. "Thank you for yesterday, Ginny. You're right. I've told Ron now, and I have to give him time to understand and accept…us. Thank you for your comfort, Ginny. I'm sorry I got carried away. I felt like I needed something to distract me, and passion was the strongest emotion besides guilt. I love you." Hermione walked over to Ginny, placed a hand on her cheek, and kissed her lovingly.

"You're…you're welcome, Hermione. I love you."

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The next couple of days in the Gryffindor Tower were suffocating to any onlooker. Ron refused to look at either Hermione or Ginny if he could help it, afraid he'd lose all self-control he had and start yelling or throw a hex at them. Harry was his only confidant, as he didn't wish to tell anyone else about his sister and his former-best friend's love affair.

The couple, themselves, had also decided not to reveal their relationship to any outsiders, giving time for Ron to recuperate until they figured it was time to drop the bomb. Hermione still felt guilty, and attempted to catch Ron's eye whenever they happened to pass one another, hoping that in that glance, she would spy acceptance. She couldn't understand why she still felt so horrible, but it was all she could do to hide it.

Only rarely could Harry, Hermione, and Ginny get together discreetly to chat; Ron was often always seen with Harry, almost like if he was too apprehensive about being around anyone else. The new trio had to resort to meeting late in the night – or early in the morning – in order to have long enough sessions to hold decent conversations. It was one of those late night meetings when the three of them were sitting in their favorite armchairs in the Gryffindor common room.

"Has Ron said anything to you about us yet?" Hermione asked for the umpteenth time.

"He hasn't said a word about it since the afternoon you told him," Harry admitted. "Nothing. I think he's still too uncomfortable to say anything. What can he say, Hermione? What do you expect him to say to me? He's upset, I'll grant you, but he's not telling me any of it." Harry had neglected to tell the pair about Ron's own breakdown that evening, deciding to leave Ron the little dignity he may have left.

Ginny patted Hermione's leg soothingly. "You have to let it go, 'Mione. He's not going to come around in only a few weeks after confessing his love for you, only to be turned down by the fact that you're dating his sister."

"Yeah, alright. I know. We go over this every night." Hermione sighed. "So, big Quidditch match tomorrow. How's the team coming, captain?"

Harry looked at Ginny warily. "Well, overall, the team seems to be doing great. Demelza Robins, Marguerite Lynn, and Ginny are excellent chasers, of course. Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote may rival Fred and George one day, too. The only thing is that you'd think Ron would be a wreck in practice, what with him being so upset and all. Apparently he's using Quidditch as a distraction, something to get his mind off of, well, you."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, he even blocked some of my best goals. You should've seen the look on his face, though, Hermione. He looked mad. So concentrated on each save – he never looked me in the eye."

Hermione heaved a greater sigh. "Well, I wish you all luck tomorrow. I hear Sytherin has really been training hard as well. Malfoy being team captain and all."

Harry scowled, saying, "Yes, Hermione, but that doesn't mean anything. He's still one of the biggest prats in this school, and I'm not going to lose the snitch to him."

"Calm down, Harry. Don't take offense. I was only pointing out the obvious. I'm not concerned; I'm sure you'll beat the Slytherins, and out fly Malfoy to the snitch. What's got your wand in a knot?" Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"Nothing. I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry shook his head. "I'm just a little tired of everyone having so little faith in the team this year. You're not the first person to ask me about it; I don't understand it. We've always beat Slytherins in a match – I've always gotten the snitch before Malfoy. Now that he's suddenly captain everyone's worried we're going to lose?"

"Maybe the fact that he flipped sides on Voldemort last year still has everyone a little bewildered. He's a 'good guy' now," Ginny offered.

"So because he's suddenly proven he's not evil, people think I'll lose to him?"

Ginny shrugged.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Hermione said. "When Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup tomorrow, no one will ever admit to doubting that you wouldn't bring the house to another victory."

Harry merely nodded once more. He stretched and looked at his wrist watch, surprised at the hour. He yawned. "Well, I think it's off to bed, don't you?"

"Yeah. Got to try and get my beauty sleep for the game, eh, Harry?" Ginny winked, yawning slightly.

"Yeah, right. Good night Gin. Night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry," Hermione took Ginny around the waist and led her up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

Harry watched the two girls make their way up the steps and smiled. He looked down at his watch again, then up the stairway, and started to walk at a quick pace. Eventually, he reached a door and turned the knob quickly, shutting it behind him. He groped around the dark room, taking out his wand; "Lum–" he started, but was interrupted by a swift kiss on the mouth. Harry was startled at first, but he soon relaxed with recognition; the familiar taste and those soft lips he knew so well.

"What took you so long?" the other panted, wrapping their arms around Harry's neck.

"I was talking with Hermione and Ginny. Sorry, lost track of the time." He grinned.

"Hmm…" the other sighed. They pressed their lips together in a crushing kiss, leaning against the cool wall.

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It was silent in the dressing room as the Gryffindor Quidditch team members dressed in their game robes and padding, preparing for the much anticipated match against Slytherin. As everyone dressed, no one looked at the other, and it was so quiet, it was as if they each could hear the hearts pounding of the person next to them.

Harry exhaled slowly, putting his leg up on one of the benches, leaning on it for support. "Well, guys – this is it. This is the match that everyone in the whole bloody school has been gossiping about. I'm not sure why. Maybe they think we'll lose for some reason – just because some…people got their act together. As I said, I don't understand it, but what I do know is that we have never trained harder than this year."

He looked around into each of his team members' eyes, resting on Ron's. "You all have progressed so much this past year after…everything. After the war, after…deaths of loved ones…" he paused. "We can do this. I know we can beat the Slytherins in Quidditch once again. We will have victory. Now let's get out there, and show those Slytherins who's smirking now." They each, feeling their hearts lifted a bit higher, brought their hands in for a Gryffindor cheer, and made it out of the locker room onto the pitch.

Harry pulled back on Ron's game robes and twirled him around. "Are you ready, Ron?"

"You bet, mate," he nodded. "It's our seventh and final year. Let's go down swinging."

Harry laughed and clapped Ron on the shoulder, shoving him out the double door. The stands erupted in cheers at the arrival of "the boy who lived" and his best mate. They mounted their brooms, and flew over to the center of the pitch, revolving around the two teams; Harry halting by Madame Hooch, Ron stopping just next to Peakes – the opposite side of Ginny.

"You all know the rules by now," warned Madame Hooch to the two team captains. "I don't want to see any foul-play, alright? Shake hands."

Draco Malfoy smirked at her and Harry glared at him, but grudgingly grasped Malfoy's hand, squeezing tightly. Madame Hooch nodded in reply, releasing the Golden Snitch, which flew teasingly around both their heads, and shouted, "Then let the match begin!" Both of the Bludgers then blasted out of nowhere and zoomed around the field, causing the team to break up and to their starting positions.

Just as Ginny had the Quaffle, flying in and out of the Slytherins' reach, a loud commentary broke out over the game. Harry smiled as he heard Luna Lovegood's voice over the rushing wind in his ears and cheers and jeers from the crowd below; as no one else really qualified, nor wanted the post of commenter, Luna had remained as the chief voice of the Hogwarts' Quidditch matches. She was interrupted, of course, once in a while by Professor McGonagall, who would shout the current score when Luna got distracted by something else. She always gave the most amusing commentary, and just about no one wanted her to be replaced.

"Ginny Weasley has the Quaffle, once again," Luna said in her dreamy tone. "She really is a good player, that Ginny. Ah, she passed it to Marguerite Lynn – she's quite good too, I believe. Oh, not good enough, it seems. That Slytherin who knocked into me the other day took it from her when it slipped from her hands. He's not very nice, that Slytherin. I don't care very much for his name."

"It's Blaise Zabini," said McGonagall, unenthusiastically.

"Oh, well, as I said…"

The commentary continued on, as did the match. Eventually, the score was Gryffindor, 100 to 0; Ron was doing really well blocking each goal sent by the Slytherin chasers. Once in a while, a Slytherin would hit a well-aimed Bludger toward a Gryffindor in frustration, but overall, it was a good game so far, in Harry's opinion.

Harry had been flying around the pitch in circles, looking for any sign of the Snitch to end the game quickly – keeping an eye on Malfoy all the while. Keeping, a rather close and glossy eye on Malfoy, actually. He didn't know what it was, but Malfoy was suddenly looking quite attractive. It could have been the flyaway strays of hair around his face, or the way his muscles clenched as he gripped the broom, or the red flush that crept into his cheeks and neck the more he looked around for the Snitch. It was clear that Malfoy wanted his team to win as much as Harry wanted Gryffindor to, but Harry would never find the Snitch if he kept his eyes on Malfoy any longer. He shook his head, trying to ignore Malfoy completely, and searched for any sign of a golden glint.

Just then, a collective gasp sounded from the audience in the stands, causing Harry to look down. "What happened?" Luna asked, apparently caught up in another reverie about the sprites that lived in clouds and played with the Snitch while the seekers were looking for it. "Oh dear. It appears that the Slytherin beaters double teamed and aimed both bludgers at Mr. Ronald Weasley. That wasn't very nice."

Indeed, Ron was now falling about fifty feet down to the ground, at increasing velocity. Harry had just registered what had happened and zoomed down to him, as fast as his Firebolt could take him, reaching out, in an attempt to grab him. Hermione, in the stands, let out an audible gasp too, and quickly took out her wand. She pointed the wand at the tiny and fast-falling figure, and screamed, "Arresto momentum!" Slowly, Ron stopped falling and was floating in midair. Harry realized this a moment later as he passed him, and stopped, looking up to see the floating red-head.

He sighed, and whispered a silent thank Gods.

"Well, Ronald Weasley may be okay, but it looks like that Slytherin has seen the Snitch." Luna drawled.

Harry spun around, and flew up just in time to see Malfoy zipping off in the opposite direction. His eyes followed his path, and looked just above him, shocked to see a golden glinting dot sprinting away as fast as its little wings would carry it. His heart pounding, Harry flew once again as fast as he could, praying that the Firebolt could make it in time. He was merely ten feet away, and he marveled at how quickly he had caught up. Just when he was reaching Malfoy's feet, Malfoy's outstretched hand had barely grasped the fluttering Snitch in his fingers.

There was a beat, and then the crowd below burst into a grand sound of cries of celebration and defeated groans. Harry closed his eyes, and allowed his broom to fly further up towards the clouds. He, himself, groaned and he struck his fist out in the air angrily. He continued to fly up, his eyes still closed; he never wanted to come down. He didn't want to return to the ground. He didn't want to hear the disappointed moans of his fellow Gryffindors. He didn't want to see the look on his teammates' faces, especially after his brilliant speech he gave just before the game.

Finally, he decided he had gone too high up after he felt his clothes getting pretty wet, and his glasses were misty. He flipped over and flew to the ground reluctantly. As he approached the field, he saw large groups of people cheering and laughing, but he figured something was off. He didn't see any green or silver celebratory decorations; instead he saw…red and gold?

A/N: Yeah, I know…but technically it isn't a real cliffhanger! Oh, and sorry about not much Hr/G love, as Harry? And Quidditch Match descriptions? Wtf? Ah, well…now REVIEW, please! Love you guys!