Hello lovely readers, sorry for the recent delays, I've been studying a lot for my college placement tests. Is anyone else graduating high school this year? I'm super nervous and super excited to go to college :)

Thanks for the awesome reviews from my awesome readers. I LOVE your reactions to R/Hr interruptions.

ENJOY! -Kelly

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, settings, and book-related plots belong to J.K. Rowling.

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Hermione was sure that the visible dark circles under her eyes were from her late night talks with Ginny. She had slept with her friend for the past two nights after the big fight with Harry. Ginny was her roommate, her best girl friend. But Harry was her friend too, and she loved them both. As much as she hated to admit it, Ginny was wrong and Harry had the right to be mad. But in a relationship their shouldn't be a right and a wrong. There shouldn't be two sides of an argument. In a relationship their should be trust, respect and love. You should love your partner enough to show your respect through trust. Ginny messed it up for herself completely, she was unfaithful with her boyfriend, and didn't even have the decency to tell him the truth. Hermione could never blame Harry for being so mad at her, if it were Ron, she'd be mad too.

Ron. God, he could be so clueless at times. He had no idea why Harry and Ginny were really mad at each other. He figured that they were fighting over something silly and unimportant. Harry didn't have the strength or energy to tell him, and Ginny was sure as hell not going to admit to her older brother that she had sex. Hermione felt bad, keeping this secret away from Ron. But really, it wasn't her business or responsibility, and she was tired of getting in the middle of things.

The young, curly haired witch sighed into her cold mug of tea. Her butt had become numb from sitting in the hard chair behind her desk. The office had been quiet and bored today, with nothing to do, not that Hermione was complaining anyway. She was actually glad that she wasn't swamped in papers and documents like always; the rare freedom was nice.

Holding her breath, Hermione watched a small yellow note soar into her opened door. Her brown eyes squinted at the flying paper, hoping that it wasn't a demand from her boss. Before she knew it, the floating note fell on top of her neatly organized desk. She noticed the skinny and scrawled handwriting almost immediately, and grabbed it quickly.

'Mione, Have lunch with me? Meet me in my office at 12:15. -Ron.

Hermione smiled down at the small, bright paper and pictured Ron in her mind. She bit down slowly on her bottom lip, and nibbled softly. Of course she would have lunch with him, she couldn't imagine a better way to spend her half an hour lunch break. But she also knew that Ron was looking for an excuse to be alone with her again. They hadn't had another moment due to the ongoing feud between Harry and Ginny. Hermione had been spending all her time consoling her friend, and Ron had been spending all his time trying to distract his best mate.

The young witch glanced up at the big round clock hanging high on the wall. It read a quarter after 11, more than enough time to freshen herself up and get ready for her lunch date. Hermione glanced toward her opened door and into the busy hallway, hoping that nothing, or no one, will distract her.

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The chilly end-of-August air contradicted against Ginny's sweaty skin. She was sitting on the grass behind the small house, wearing muddy clothes and sneakers. There was a gust of wind in the air that cooled off her over heated body, and she enjoyed the refreshing feeling. She couldn't wait to go inside to take a nice, invigorating shower. Her pale skin was crawling with sweat and dirt, begging for clean water.

Had she really been out here all morning? Had she really been working her ass off for hours in the muddy and grassy backyard? She felt like all the time and hard work she contributed for the past few days was absolutely worthless. Ginny threw her long wooden broomstick a few feet away from her in frustration. Working by herself was never going to work out. She wasn't seeing any results. When she was at Hogwarts, she was one of the best Quidditch players on the Gryffindor team. But what was wrong now? She knew she was a little out of whack, but she didn't think it was this serious.

Sitting on top of the grass, Ginny placed her face in her palms. Sobbing into her dirty hands, she let a few a tears escape the corner of her eyes. She wasn't planning on telling Hermione that she quit her job at the restaurant. She never liked that job anyway. But she knew it was the right thing to do, she couldn't work in that God forsaken place any longer. The low pay and rude costumers was not something she should have to deal with.

If she wanted to fly professionally again, she would have to ask someone to help her. There was no way she could deal with this on her own. Re-teaching herself how to fly again wasn't working out. A week had passed and she wasn't seeing any results in her self-training. If she wanted this to work, she would need someone to help her. Someone just as skilled as her, or maybe even better.

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Pacing around his dimmed office, Wilson pondered with the thoughts in his head. He was holding a cup with a thick, brooding liquid in his hands. He took a deep sip, swallowing everything at once, and grimaced at the disgusting taste. Placing the cup on his desk, he retched and gagged, but swallowed the bad taste down his throat.

Straightening his tie, Wilson felt a little disappointed and outraged in himself. He figured that by now he would be able to get used to the horrible taste of the bubbling liquid. He rubbed a large hand over his rough face, realizing that he forgot to shave today. He blinked away the thoughts, and left his office in search for a particular curly haired witch.

Hermione's office was right next door, and Wilson peered into the room. He leaned against her opened door frame, and watched her. She was sitting at her neat desk, with her head tilted up, watching the ticking clock. He loved the way her brown curly hair cascaded down her back, and the amber gleam of her chocolate brown eyes. Her face looked so peacefully relaxed and untroubled.

Hermione didn't notice Wilson's appearance in her office until he cleared his throat loudly. She jumped a little, "Oh, hello Wilson. Is there something I can do for you?" Hermione didn't look angry or mad, just surprised. A look that Wilson loved to see on her slightly tanned face. She straightened up in her seat and looked up at the man standing in front of her.

He forced a smile on his stressed face, "I just wanted to see how you were doing. Did you have a good weekend?" Wilson looked down at Hermione's beautifully sculptured face with a hint of insanity in his eyes. He watched as the bridge of her nose curved downward perfectly, and how her thin lips were moist with saliva as her pink tongue darted out randomly.

Hermione's eyebrow quirked up questionably but nodded anyway, "Yeah, the rain was a bit of a downer, but it was a good weekend to catch up on some reading..." She wasn't really comfortable with Wilson, or anyone, staring at her for a long time. Hermione was always a bit self conscience about her looks, she almost always felt unattractive.

Wilson smiled to himself, "So you like reading?" Hermione nodded, but wasn't really into the whole small talk thing. She was ready to meet Ron in his office, but didn't have the strength to kick Wilson out. "Actually," He started, "I wanted to talk to you about something else," He walked closer to Hermione's desk, and sat on top of it. He was wearing a light blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and simple black pants. Hermione noticed, and was surprised by, his plain look today. Usually he would look fresh and crisp, making sarcastic comments with his annoying dimples.

Hermione glanced up at the round clock nervously and gulped at the time, "Oh yeah? What did you want to talk about?" She tried to keep her voice as pleasant as possible and remembered her rudeness in past encounters with Wilson. She was starting to realize that he didn't do anything to her, so why be mean? Hermione didn't feel like that type of person anyway. All she wanted to do was to keep their relationship professional.

Wilson cleared his throat again, "I wanted to talk about us..." His voice was calm and natural, like if he was talking about the weather or the latest gossip scandal. He wasn't planning on doing this today, but with a sudden surge of confidence, he was ready to admit his feelings.

Her head shot up in shock, and Hermione's eyes left the ticking clock that she had been staring at. She stood up in her seat tensely and walked around her dark wooden desk slowly. "What are you talking about?" Hermione was shaking and she really didn't want to know what Wilson was thinking. There was nothing between them, therefore, nothing to talk about. She couldn't really say that she had a boyfriend, since her and Ron decided to keep it a secret.

Gulping, Wilson stood up and walked over to Hermione's body. She stopped pacing and stood still in front of him, slightly frightened. "Hermione... we can't ignore this attraction between us," He tilted his head closer to hers, "I know I can't..." The young witch backed up a few steps, shaking her head, as Wilson's eyes shot right through her.

There was a moment of silence and Hermione's eyes were locked onto Wilson's. She tried moving her gaze away, but for some reason she was fascinated by the green orbs looking straight into her. Her mouth opened a little and she found it a little hard to breath. How long had she been standing here? A few seconds? Minutes?

Wilson took a few steps forward and Hermione felt his breath on her, and she took another couple steps back. But as she stepped back, the wall behind her blocked her from going any further. She was so transfixed on Wilson's eyes that she didn't even seem to notice.

His lips were inches away from hers and she could almost feel his warm breath on her mouth. Did she want him to kiss her?

Hermione felt Wilson coming closer and closer to her, but then suddenly, somewhere in the distance, there was knocking. The bookworm witch broke out of the trance, and peered over Wilson's shoulder to see Ron standing at her doorway, with his arms crossed over his chest. Hermione pushed the arrogant wizard out of the way and got a better look of her annoyed boyfriend.

"I wondered if you had a lot of work to do, so I decided to bring the lunch to you," Ron spoke, holding up a bag, "But I can see that you're busy..." With that he turned around after giving Wilson a dirty look.

Hermione leaped forward, "Ron wait," She grabbed a hold of his upper arm, "Wilson was just leaving," She glanced behind her shoulder at the man who had not moved an inch, "Weren't you?"

Shrugging, Wilson replied lazily, "I guess I am," He smiled with visible dimples and sent a wink toward Hermione before leaving the small room. Ron's hands were forming angry fists at his sides and he couldn't control his growing temper.

Hermione spoke before he had the chance to say anything, "Ron... it's not what you think. He's an annoying creep an-"

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Ron announced rhetorically, Hermione ruffled her bushy hair frustratingly. His voice was deep and demanding, "No guy should be that close to you. And I don't think I want you talking to him anymore." His hands were in the air, trying to through his point across.

Quirking her eyebrow upwards, Hermione scoffed, "Ronald, as much as I hate Wilson, you cannot tell me what to do. Who the hell do you think you are? You don't control me." Her eyes were narrowed and she watched Ron's facial expression change completely. She didn't agree with Wilson's actions, but she also didn't agree with Ron trying to control her. She wasn't a dog on a leash or a child being grounded. She was an over aged woman who was independent and smart. She didn't need someone to tell her what to do.

"Hermione, his face was just inches from yours! It took me seven years to get that far! And now some bloke thinks he can just waltz in and take you away from me?" Ron's neck and face was burning with heat as his voice raised a little, and the muscle in his jaw flinched. His voice was a little strained, and his eyes sent a hurting look.

She gasped and crossed her arms over her chest, "Take me away from you? Ron, we were just talking! And you're over exaggerating, taking things out of proportion. Haven't you ever had a conversation with a female witch before? It's not a crime to talk to someone!" Her face was red with passion, knowing that Wilson had other intentions, but she was still defending herself. Ron had no right to act like a controlling boyfriend.

It was Ron's turn to scoff and roll his eyes, "Oh sure, you were just talking. I'm a bloke too Hermione, and believe me, he wanted to do a lot more than just talking," Ron threw his hands in the air in defeat, "You know what? What's the point anymore?" He gave Hermione a dreadful look and left the room without another word.

Hermione stared at the empty door way, wondering what she did to get herself into this mess.

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Harry appeared in the fireplace of Hermione and Ginny's apartment, and his temporary home. He wiped the soot from the bottom of his shoes onto the rug in front of the hearth. Tilting his head upwards, he thought he heard the sound of running footsteps coming closer to the small living room.

Ginny's sock covered feet patted onto the beige living room carpeted as she ran into the room. She thought she heard the fireplace, and was hoping that Ron had came home. But looking up, her facial expression changed as she noticed Harry standing with his hands deep in his pockets.

"Expecting someone else?" Harry's rough voice spoke sarcastically, as he rolled eyes almost automatically. They weren't really on speaking terms, but every once in a while Harry would throw out a sarcastic comment or mean statement intended for Ginny. Most of the time she would ignore him, but the sound of his voice hurt her a little every time.

"Wait- Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, when Harry was almost half way out of the room. Her voice sounded desperate, and Harry couldn't help but notice. He knew her all too well, one of the positives and negatives of being her former boyfriend.

Debating on whether or not he should stop, Harry eventually halted in his spot and spun around. "Yeah?"

Gulping noisily, Ginny fiddled with her fingers and looked up at him, "Can I ask you for a favor?" Her voice was sincere and her light eyes were lined with fear of rejection.

Harry chuckled, "You're kidding, right?"

Ginny walked closer to him, and looked him straight in the eye and shook her head, "You don't have to forgive me, you don't have to like me, you don't even have to talk to me. I just need a really, really big favor."

Harry ruffled his hair and Ginny caught a glimpse of the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He breathed in heavily and sighed even heavier, "What is it?" He couldn't believe that he was actually standing here, listening to her demands.

She was almost tempted to smile, but instead she kept her cool and remained calm. "Train me, in Quidditch. I've been practicing by myself, but I haven't really played in a couple years." Ginny's face was serious and professional, showing no emotions.

One of Harry's eyebrows were raised in confusion and he crossed his arms over his chest, "Why?" He knew that Ginny had a passion for Quidditch but he couldn't understand why she wanted to train so badly. Sure it's been a couple years, but she couldn't be that bad. From what he could remember, she was a great Quidditch player.

Her eyes shifted back and forth between Harry and the wall behind him. The eye contact between the two of them were becoming too intense. "Charlie sent me an owl the other day. He said that their might be a job for me in Romania, but it requires a lot of flying. He thinks I should try out for the job, but the boss is really tough, and I need to be flawless."

"You've never been interested in working in Romania before," Harry answered. He wasn't really mad that she wanted to train because of that reason. He was mad that the job was in Romania. What if she was flawless? What if the boss did hire her? Did that mean she was packing her bags and moving out of the country?

Ginny exhaled lightly, "This job can open a lot of doors for me. I might finally have the chance to get a job in the International Quidditch Corporation. I'm not too psyched about a job around fire breathing dragons, but it could help me a lot in the future."

Harry didn't say anything, but just stood silent, and studied Ginny's face. The past few days had been rough for them. He still loved her, regardless of the fight they had and the things they said. Harry loved her for a long time, and it would take a long time for those feelings to disappear. There was just something about the sparkle in her eye and the despair in her voice that made Harry's knees a little weak. She was a little too close to him, considering their current situation, and he could smell her vanilla body lotion in the air.

"Um, it's okay if you don't want too," Ginny announced, "I'll just ask Ron." Talking to Harry about this was like gambling, she wasn't sure what the outcome would be. She didn't expect him to say yes, especially after everything they had been through in the past few days. She was planing on asking Ron anyway, because asking Harry was like taking a chance. But she didn't want to take chances anymore. She got the point that Harry didn't want to be with her anymore, so she would have to move on eventually.

Harry's eyebrow's ruffled, "No, no, I'll do it. Besides Ron is nervous enough playing by himself."

Once again Ginny stopped herself from smiling and remained as clam as possible. Her face was still as serious as can be, "Thank you."

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Staring up at the bare ceiling, Hermione laid on her comfortable bed, still clad in her work clothes. The sun was just starting to set outside her window, and made her bedroom glow beautifully. Her knee-length skirt was rolled up to her upper thigh, while twirling a curly strand of hair around her finger.

She let out a deep breath as her chest heaved up and down in frustration. She had gotten really upset over her and Ron's conversation earlier at the ministry. She knew that Ron had a short temper, but he had never tried to control her before. He had never acted that way with her before, well... maybe only with Viktor... and then there was Cormac...

There was a soft knock on her bedroom door and Hermione's head lifted off her pillow. She didn't have enough energy to get up, so instead used the rest of her vigour to announce that the door was open.

Seconds later, the door slowly swung open, and Hermione's head was still lifted upwards to see who it was. As much as she loved her, Hermione was hoping that Ginny wouldn't be the one walking in. She had just about enough of Ginny's problems, tears, and "what-if" scenarios. If it was Harry, Hermione would be more than surprised. Usually, when Harry's in a bad mood, he would keep to himself.

Unsurprisingly, Ron Weasley walked into the tidy bedroom, and peered over at Hermione's bed. She sighed at the sight of him and laid her head back down on the pillow. He watched as her chest moved every time she breathed and the shape of her bare legs crossed over each other.

He walked closer to the bed, and Hermione felt him lay down next to her. Ron leaned his head on his hand and faced Hermione. "I'm sorry," He started, and she turned to face him, "You were right, bloody hell, you're always right 'Mione. I shouldn't have said what I said... but that guys makes me so, so..."

"Mad? Angry? Jealous? Stupid?" Hermione listed, looking into Ron's sorry eyes. She could tell that his apology was sincere, and wasn't really used to this kind of thing. Whenever they fought in school, which was most of the time, he had never apologized to her before. They just sort of always forgot about it, and remained being friends. But things were different now. Because they were a couple, fighting and having arguments weren't the same anymore.

"'Mione, I'm really sorry. You know that you're the only girl for me, and I could never want to lose you. It's hard to control my anger sometimes, but I promise, I don't do it on purpose," He reached a hand and placed it on the side of her face, "I love you."

Hermione's eyes widened and she sat up on the bed, with her bushy hair a mess on top of her. "I love you, Hermione," Ron repeated again, sitting up as well. His blue eyes were calm, and he didn't break their eye contact, not even to blink. The young witch swallowed silently, and lost her breath. She loved him, she had loved him for a really long time. But for some reason the three words would not leave her mouth.