When Harry said that, Gigi got a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, like a hurricane started brewing. Because she knew that while he meant it in the moment, eventually, he would do that to her. She cringed at the thought, and instead, sipped her mead and smiled at Harry. She refused to think of that situation, she pushed the thought of losing him from her mind. It wouldn't happen. She couldn't let it happen.

But as much as Gigi refused to think about it, as much as she wished that Harry wouldn't leaver her like Ryan did, she knew in her heart that he would.

Approximately two weeks after their date at the pond, Gigi's worst fears were confirmed.

"Gigi," Effy said, sticking her head in Gigi's office. "It's five. Are you done with those letters? I can send them out before I leave."

"Oh, no thanks, Effy," Gigi said. She smiled in an exasperated manner. "I haven't quite finished them yet. Harry needs to sign them. I'll send them."

Effy smiled back. "No problem. Just doing my job. Oh, and don't forget, The Prophet is releasing that story about the Christmas Gala tomorrow."

"Oh shoot," Gigi replied distractedly. She reached for a piece of parchment, scribbled a reminder on it, and then pinned it to the bulletin board behind her desk. The board was littered with hundreds of scraps of parchment, all graffiti-ed with Gigi's loopy, neat handwriting. "Are you going to that?"

"Of course," Effy said, looking taken aback by Gigi's sudden friendly demeanor. "Lee and I are going. Are you…?" She let her question trail off. Gigi felt the awkward question fill the room like an elephant.

"Going?" Gigi asked. She smiled tightly. "Yes. Flying solo." Gigi subtly glanced at Harry's office. He was packing up for the day. Harry caught Gigi's eye and grinned. Effy smiled sheepishly.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Effy said. She grabbed her jacket and purse and left the office. Effy was closely followed by Taylor. He waved eagerly at Gigi on his way out. However, Gigi didn't notice. The only person she had eyes for was Harry. When she was sure that everyone had left, Gigi walked out of her office, crossed the hall and entered Harry's office. He looked up from his things, his eyebrows raised. Gigi shut the door tightly behind her. Without saying a word, she rushed forward, leaned down, and pressed her lips to his.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," Gigi admitted. Harry stood up and wrapped his arms around her. He tipped back her chin so he could press his lips to hers. Gigi's head spun as she held onto his shoulders so she wouldn't fall over.

"Ditto," Harry said. "But I usually think about it twenty-four seven."

"Are you just saying that?" Gigi asked. She pressed her face into his shoulder.

"Yes," Harry teased. He ran a hand over her hair. "Is twenty-four eight possible? That's how much I think about you."

"Mhmm," Gigi mumbled into his shirt. She pulled back and ran her hands down the pressed linen folds. "All I can think about is spending time with you. How much I love you." They both smiled. "How much I want to kiss you."

"So why don't you?" Gigi smiled wider, and then threw her arms around Harry's neck. He leaned her backwards, and they collapsed on Harry's desk, on top of the papers and quills. They didn't care. Harry reached for the buttons on Gigi's shirt, and he slowly began to undo them, resting his hand carefully on her chest. Gigi felt her back arch, and she wanted him to take of her shirt. She wanted to take off his. And yet…

"I don't think we should do this yet," Gigi said, pulling her lips away from Harry's. Harry froze in the process of kissing her collarbone. His head appeared above hers.

"Why?" He wasn't trying to pressure her. Harry didn't want to. He could wait for centuries if she had asked him to. But Gigi's tone was so hesitant…he could tell something was wrong.

"Well, we're in the office," Gigi said. She smirked. "On your desk. Why don't we just get out of here?"

"Wait a second," Harry said. He stood up and looked down at Gigi, his expression solemn. "Is it really that you don't want to have sex in the office? Because I get that. Or is it just that you don't want to have sex in the office with me?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Gigi huffed. She sat up and smoothed her now-shoulder length hair. She began to button her shirt, but she was so harried that the buttons didn't match up. "I love you."

Harry placed his hands on her shoulder. "Do you love me enough to kiss me in front of everyone tomorrow? Would you hold my hand in front of Effy? Or hug me in front of Taylor?"

Gigi seized up. She opened her mouth and then closed it. She didn't know how to reply to him.

Harry continued. "Ever since you told me about what happened to you…what happened with…him, I can't stop thinking about it. I understand if you didn't love him enough, which I think you made clear. But what about me? You love me, don't you? Why don't you show it, Gigi? I'm not ashamed of what I feel." Harry pulled his hands away from her, as if her skin had burned him. "I don't think you are, but you're so scared. I'm more scared of losing you than I am of anything. But if we take this leap together, we have strength in numbers. I can't…" Harry bent his head. When he looked up at Gigi, his eyes were wet. "I can't lose you. I just can't. You're the best thing to happen to me."

Gigi took an involuntary step back. Her mind was racing, her body was shaking, her heart was on fire. She felt like her skin was screaming. She wished she could be anywhere else. She couldn't look into those dazzling eyes, answer his pleads.

"Why don't you kiss me in front of everyone?" She asked. She quivered. "Why do I have to be the one to take that risk?"

"We would both be taking it," Harry told her. He sat on the edge of his desk. "And there's no doubt in my mind I would do that. But I worry about you. What goes on in that head of yours."

Gigi felt tears spill over her lids. She closed her eyes, as if she could wish away this moment, this pain.

"No," she gasped as the tears began to fall faster and thicker. Harry stood up. He didn't look at her. Slowly, he put on his thick woolen cloak and picked up his briefcase. He didn't look at Gigi as he walked by her. He paused in the doorway. Gigi wanted to take it all back, but she was crying so hard she couldn't manage to speak.

"I think we should spend some time apart," Harry said softly. Gigi slowed her breath.

"But I love you," she managed to choke out. It was the last card she had to play, her last chance.

"That's not enough," Harry replied. He still didn't turn to look at her. "Not this time." He didn't shut the door behind him. He exited the room, and he didn't come back, not even when Gigi slumped down in one of the chairs in front of his chair, sobbing heavily.

Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He didn't want to lose her, he knew that if he truly did, he would go crazy. He wouldn't be able to feel anything. He would be numb, someone simply drifting through life without a second thought. When he walked through the Ministry gates, he paused and watched his breath turn white in front of his face. He apparated home, unlocked his door, and went straight to bed.

Gigi, on the other hand, had another idea. She wiped her eyes, re-buttoned her blouse. She grabbed her purse and left the office. When she arrived at Phoenix, the wizard bar, it was nearly full, even though it was Thursday evening.

"Can I get you something, Miss?" Asked the bartender as she sat down at a stool. He assessed her shaky hands, her rapid breath. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Gigi barked with a wave of her hand. "Strongest thing you've got." She tapped her fingernails impatiently on the bar. The bartender raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. He pulled out a small glass, and then began to fill it with small amounts from different bottles. He pulled out his wand and circled it around the top of the glass. The drink began to broth.

"Get it down while it's hot," he warned Gigi, pushing the glass across the bar. "It works better that way."

Gigi frowned, but picked up the glass. "Here's…" she looked around, and then sighed. "To your health." She downed the glass in a second. It tasted sweet, like fruit juice. "I'll take a second," she said, slamming the glass down on the bar. Her vision already began to blur the slightest bit.

"Hey, Gigi!" Someone said. Taylor appeared at the bar, a pint of ale in one hand. "Didn't think I would see you here."

"Hi, Taylor," Gigi said sloppily. "Just relaxing after work, huh?"

"Always," he said with a quick smile. "Listen, I was hoping I could talk to you."

Gigi downed her drink and signaled to the bartender for another one.

"Anything," she said.

"Are you going to that Gala thing for work?" He asked.

"Of course," Gigi said primly. "I'm the publicist. It is my job after all." She hiccupped.

"I was wondering if you would want to go with me?" Taylor asked.

"Friends," Gigi sang lightly, patting him on the arm. "I love having friends. It sounds great."

"Um, no," Taylor replied with a blush. "I didn't mean as friends."

Gigi blinked at him. She looked down at her frothing drink. It was the same color as Harry's eyes. She ignored the sick feeling in her stomach and turned back to Taylor, a smile on her face.

"I would love to," she purred. She downed her third drink that night.

When Gigi returned home that night, it was nearly one am. She clumsily unlocked her door and stumbled inside. When she tripped over the coat stand, she let out a stream of expletives that would've made a sailor blush. It was only when she walked into the kitchen that she began to cry again. He was gone. And she would be alone. Always. Even if she was in someone else's company, it didn't matter; it would never measure up to the time she spent with Harry. Gigi picked up the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

"Mom," she sobbed when the other line picked up. "I fucked up. I really fucked it up this time." Her mother tried to calm her down but try as she might, she just couldn't seem to calm Gigi. She cried and cried until she passed out on the counter.

When she was late to work the next day, no one said a word. Not even Effy, who was normally so talkative. Gigi had a pounding headache, the worst hangover she had ever had. Her heels just made it worse. The clack-clack on the marble floors sounded like bombs. Her headache got worse when she finally reached the Auror's office. Effy smiled her, but didn't comment on Gigi's slightly scruffier-than-usual appearance.

"Hey, Gigi, that copy of the Daily Prophet arrived a half hour ago. I put it on your desk."

"Thanks," Gigi muttered. She didn't look anywhere near Harry's office. She could just feel his eyes on her. She wanted to cry.

"Oh," Effy added. "I heard you're going with Taylor to the Gala. That's so great, Gigi. I didn't know you guys were dating."

"Huh? Oh…" Gigi snuck a glance towards Harry's office now. The door was open. Harry was sitting straight up, his hair sticking up, his eyes flashing. He watched Gigi carefully. "We aren't dating," she mumbled. "Just going together." Gigi walked into her office without another word and slammed the door behind her.

She didn't do any work for the rest of the day. She never glanced once at the newspaper on her desk. She never sent any newsletters or memos. Gigi just stared at the wall for most of the day. That is, until a sudden flash of red caught her eye. She looked out her window around three 'o clock to see a redheaded woman standing at the reception desk. She was wearing all black. She looked like an ember. With a jolt, Gigi remembered where she had seen this person before.

She was the woman in the picture with Harry, the picture in Ron and Hermione's house. Gigi studied her pretty features critically. Harry emerged from his office, and he waved to the redheaded girl. She waved back. Harry came out to meet her, and they walked out of the office together. Gigi glanced down at her hands. She hated herself.

Harry had written to Ginny the morning after he and Gigi split up. Yes, he had dated Ginny, but aside from Hermione, she was his closest girl friend. She was dating a Quidditch Player from Australia now, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a crooked nose and sandy blonde hair. However, Ginny remained Harry's friend.

"You going to tell me why you called me all the way here?" Ginny asked as she and Harry walked into the hallway.

"I need a favor," Harry said shortly. "Some advice, really."

"On the girl?" Ginny asked, surprising him. She rolled her eyes at his expression. "Be serious, Hermione told me everything."

"Oh," Harry replied. "Well…okay. But last night we split up. She…she didn't want our relationship to be public."

"Well, it was public in front of Ron and Hermione," Ginny pointed out.

"But not in front of anyone else, really," Harry countered. "I just need to be reassured that she loves me."

Ginny considered this. She pushed back her hair and bit her lip. "Maybe she's just shy," she pointed out to Harry. "I was shy about my feelings for you. Remember when I didn't talk to you for a year?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled. "You think? She said she wouldn't tell anyone though. No one in the office, like she was ashamed."

"Or scared," Ginny said. "Come people aren't as brave as you are, Harry. I have an idea though. Just to be sure of her feelings. I'll go with you to that Christmas Gala. If she cares, she'll be jealous. She'll prove it."

Harry wondered for a moment if Ginny was just being kind. But he pushed the thought from his mind.

"Yeah," he said. "Sounds great. I'll pick you up."

Ginny nodded, grinned, and then patted Harry's shoulder. She left with a smile on her face.

That night, when she left the Ministry, Gigi was scowling. But when she arrived at her destination, she was crying. She crossed the lawn to the tidy house and knocked on the front door.

"Gigi," Hermione said, sounding shocked. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry to just show up at your house," Gigi said, wiping her eyes. "But I need help. It's about Harry. I didn't know who else to turn to."

"Come in," Hermione said, opening the door a little wider.