"Please, will you do it for me?"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, and then looked back at Ron.

"Why both of us?" Ginny voiced Harry's own thoughts.

Ron's hand scratched at the back of his neck as he turned once again as if to make sure Hermione hadn't appeared out of thin air. "Because, you know what she likes, and what I like. And I want to surprise her with something from that shop I got her that necklace from…"

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he looked uncertainly at his best friend. He'd have done anything for those two—they were his best mates after all. The one thing that he didn't want to do was travel with Ginny Weasley.

"But together?" Ginny asked again.

"You two know us best," Ron insisted, grinning as they heard Hermione approach from the kitchen.

"It took me a while to find it!" Harry heard her call out. "I don't know what possessed you to want this exact cup, Ron."

"Sorry, 'Mione. I just like drinking from it!" He called. Her footsteps were getting closer. "So it's settled?" He asked, voice lowering to a whisper.

Harry met Ginny's gaze awkwardly, a feeling of trepidation filling him.

He could tell by the set of Ginny's jaw that she felt the same way. Nevertheless, from somewhere outside of his body, he heard the both of them agree to Ron's proposal.

H&G

They left that weekend. Ron had rented them a room at some hotel. Harry expected it to be something dumpy, or some sort of hostel, but was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a classy establishment.

Ginny was walking in front of him, carrying a small weekend bag. Harry couldn't help but notice the way her trousers hugged her bum as she walked.

They took the lift up to the room and when they opened the door, Harry immediately recoiled. There was only one bed!

"I'm going to the front desk," he told Ginny. "There must be some sort of mistake."

Ginny had a strange look on her face, but Harry didn't think much of it as he left his own bag on the floor of the room and immediately walked back to the lift and down to the ground floor of the hotel. When he got to the front desk, there was a long line of guests waiting to check-in in front of him. He sighed impatiently, wishing that as someone who was already checked in, he could jump the line.

It didn't seem as if the line was moving. The Muggle at the front of the line was struggling with her credit card, cursing in what Harry thought might be Italian. The front desk clerk had a pinched look on his face as he ran the card again, muttering something under his breath.

The line itself seemed to be murmuring impatiently. Harry sighed again. At this point, he'd be willing to take a trundle bed up to the room, if it meant he didn't have to wait in line.

He wondered what Ginny might be doing upstairs. He could see her sitting on the edge of the bed, legs dangling and wiggling nervously. It was a nervous habit of hers he remembered from when they'd briefly dated in his sixth year, before everything had gone to shit and the war had ignited.

Harry didn't really like to think of those sunlit weeks—it gave him a strange feeling in his chest that he didn't particularly enjoy. He didn't even like to think of the feeling and what it might mean.

How he wished that Ron had sent him alone to pick up the ring and other things needed for his proposal to Hermione. They had a tight schedule for the remainder of the day, and a tight schedule tomorrow as well. He wanted to get it all over with and as far away from Ginny Weasley as possible.

He glanced down at his wristwatch. He'd been in line for nearly fifteen minutes. Great Merlin.

Finally, the Italian Muggle left, looking dejected, holding a mobile phone to her ear. He thought she must be on the line with her bank.

The line moved and everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as it began to flow again. Eventually, Harry was at the front.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"I've already checked in—room 703. There's a small problem?"

"I'll do everything I can to help, Mr…?" The clerk typed for a moment. "Evans."

"Thank you, sir. The problem is that there is only one bed, but we require two. Do you happen to have a room with two beds available?"

The clerk typed furiously into his computer. "I am so sorry, Mr. Evans, but it appears that we are sold out for the evening."

"Do you have any trundle beds? Or cots available?"

The clerk typed again. "I'm sorry, sir, but it appears those are all spoken for as well."

Harry cursed.

"If you'd like, Mr. Evans, we can provide a free breakfast in the morning before you checkout."

That certainly wouldn't solve the predicament—but free breakfast was a good deal. It was one of Harry's favourite meals. And it wouldn't do to get angry with the clerk—if anything, this was Ron's fault. "Thank you. We would definitely appreciate the breakfast."

The clerk nodded, smiling, and typed into his computer again.

Harry went back up to the room dejectedly, wondering if there was any way to avoid the awkwardness ahead of him.

He slid the keycard into the metal contraption and watched as it turned green and emitted a high-pitched beeping noise.

"Any luck?" Ginny asked him as soon as he'd opened the door.

Harry shook his head. "Everything else is booked up. I can get another room at another hotel, though."

Ginny glanced at the clock on the wall, and then back to him, a faint blush lighting her cheeks. "We don't have time for that, Harry. Besides, it's just one night."

"You're right," Harry agreed, taking a seat on the wheeled desk chair.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, and then we can get going," Ginny told him.

Harry glanced at the clock uncertainly. "Er, sure."

Ginny grabbed her overnight bag and threw it over her shoulder as she walked towards the loo. Harry couldn't resist watching her bum again as she walked away from him. As he heard the door shut behind Ginny, Harry began to chastise himself.

Don't be a disgusting git, Potter, he told himself. You have no right to be ogling her like that.

Still, he couldn't help imagining Ginny in the shower when he heard the water turn on… the way rivulets of water would cascade down her creamy, freckled body… he had only seen her topless once or twice when they'd briefly dated at Hogwarts, but now in his mind's eye, her body was even more breathtaking with age.

He felt himself hardening and fought the urge to touch himself. What is wrong with you? He asked himself. Still, he was painfully hard underneath his robes. He was so close to taking himself in hand when he heard the water turn off.

It was like a bucket of cold water pouring on him, waking him up from his daydream. Quickly, he adjusted himself underneath his robes so he wouldn't give himself away.

Not a moment too soon, the door opened and steam billowed out through the opening. When Ginny emerged, she was already dressed and her hair brushed. She walked over to the mirror, wand in hand, muttering a charm under her breath. Instantly, Harry noticed that her hair had dried.

"That's a neat charm," said Harry, as if he hadn't just envisioned her naked in the shower.

"I can teach it to you later, if you'd like," Ginny told him, eyeing his hair.

"That would be great."

His face was heating and he wasn't sure why.

Merlin, this was why he always avoided Ginny Weasley. He'd forgotten until just now.

She had a strange look on her face, he thought, as he stood up from the desk chair and turned away from her to pretend he was fiddling with something in his own bag as he discreetly adjusted himself one last time.

When he turned back around, Harry pretended to be fastening his wristwatch. "Got it," he grinned at her nervously.

Ginny still had that look on her face, but Harry gave up any hope of deciphering it.

"Let's get going," she said. "I think the shop will be closing in the next hour or so."

Harry nodded, making sure he had the room key before they left.

They had to take a cab to the jewelry shop, as it was a Muggle shop and Paris had strict regulations about Apparition in Muggle areas. The cab ride was silent and tense, a strange energy seeming to flow between them as they were forced into the back seat together.

When they finally climbed out the back, Harry handed the driver their money and helped Ginny out of the car.

Harry and Ginny walked into the shop, a bell ringing from somewhere above the door. It was a beautiful shop, Harry thought. It did like a place that would have something Hermione would appreciate.

"Bonjour!" A voice called out. "Un moment!"

When the shopkeeper appeared, Harry said. "Parlez vous Anglais?"

"Oui, monsieur. How can I help you and this lovely young lady today?"

"We'd like to look at some rings," he told the shopkeeper.

The man's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes. Which types of rings were you looking at? We have multiple collections with different meanings."

"Engagement rings."

"Congratulations!" He told them. "You are a beautiful young couple. I can see many blessings in your future."

Harry flushed and looked over to see that Ginny had also turned a shade of pink. He didn't have the heart or energy to correct the shopkeeper's mistake, so he went along with it as they were led to a particular case in a corner.

"These are all our engagement rings. Some come in sets with the wedding bands, while others are customizable for different bands. Was there a certain type you were looking for?"

"Oh, we weren't really sure," Ginny said. "We were hoping to find the right one by just looking at what might be here."

"Très romantique! Well, have a look! Let me know if you'd like to try something on."

They nodded and turned their concentration on the case in front of them.

"There're so many," Ginny said.

Harry nodded, suddenly overwhelmed.

"Merlin," Harry whispered. "Where do we even start?"

"I guess from top to bottom," said Ginny dryly.

Harry shot her a look, but nevertheless, that was where they started. There were a number of rings that just looked too gaudy for Hermione's tastes.

"Do you think she's a cushion cut or round cut type of witch?" Ginny asked.

"Er, I'm not sure what a cushion cut is, Ginny," Harry admitted.

Ginny chuckled. "Right. Of course not."

"Now, look here," Harry began.

Ginny put a calming hand on his shoulder, a jolt of electricity traveling through his body at her touch. "Now, I know it's not your fault that you don't know, Harry. You've never had any reason to look."

Harry's cheeks burned, but he knew she had a point. He spotted something that looked like something Hermione might like. He pointed it out to Ginny, who nodded her agreement.

"I think the marquise cut is just unusual enough for Hermione to enjoy the look while still being incredibly traditional. Good call, Harry. Sir, would we be able to look at one?"

"Oui, mademoiselle. Let me just grab the key to the case."

"Now," Ginny asked. "What size is Hermione?"

Harry pulled out the crumpled up piece of parchment Ron had hurriedly handed him as he'd left that night and tried to decipher his best friend's writing. "A six, I think."

Ginny looked over the parchment and nodded her agreement. "Perfect."

The shopkeeper arrived to unlock the case. "Which lovely ring caught your eye?"

"The marquise cut diamond over here," Ginny pointed.

"You have exquisite taste, monsieur et mademoiselle. This is a ¼ carat marquise-cut diamond with a stunning halo setting with a band of white gold."

Ginny slid it delicately onto her finger, and Harry tried to imagine what it would look like on Hermione. All he could imagine, though, was another ring on Ginny.

Harry shook his head at himself. He was being ridiculous. What had gotten into him today?

"How much?" Ginny asked.

When the shopkeeper told them the price, Ginny's eyes bugged out of her head. It was certainly more than Ron had given them to spend.

Harry made a split-second decision that he was sure would make Ron angry for a few moments, but once he saw it on Hermione, he'd be singing a different tune.

"We'll take it," Harry grinned.

"Excellent. Now, if you'd follow me this way."

They left the shop with the ring in a dainty shopping bag with tissue paper.

"That was out of Ron's budget, Harry," Ginny reminded him as the door shut behind them.

Harry shrugged. "It'll just be my engagement gift to them."

Ginny grinned. "You're too generous, Harry. Some witch may come along and take advantage of you."

Harry smiled back at her, running a hand through his hair. "Who says I don't want to be taken advantage of?"

Ginny turned bright red and Harry chuckled. "Now, we have a few more errands to run for Ron before our dinner reservation."

"He really went all out with this trip," Ginny commented.

Harry nodded, thinking it was odd, as well. It wasn't that Ron wasn't thoughtful, or that he was stingy with his money, but it didn't seem like him at all.

"Well, let's take advantage of Ron's lovestruck generosity," Ginny continued. "How many all-expenses paid trips to Paris will we be sent on?"

"That's a great point," Harry said.

As their day went on, Harry began to feel normal around Ginny again. He was reminded how brilliantly funny she was—Merlin, she made him laugh like no one else could. How had he forgotten?

They dropped their shopping off in the hotel room and freshened up about an hour before their reservation.

"What restaurant is it?" Ginny asked as she sorted through her bag.

"Erm, it's called Le Restaurant at L'Hotel," Harry said, squinting at Ron's handwriting. "You don't think this place is fancy, do you?"

"Erm, it might be. This is Paris, after all," Ginny said, biting her lip.

Harry resisted the sudden urge to touch her lips and shook his head. "Maybe I should go ask the desk clerk downstairs?"

"I can do it, if you want to catch a shower," Ginny offered.

"Thanks, Gin," Harry said, then froze. He hadn't meant to call her by her old nickname—it had just slipped.

"No problem," Ginny answered quietly.

Oh no, Harry thought. I've gone and ruined any friendship we may have built today.

"I'll just go check with him, then," Ginny told him. Her voice wasn't cold, but he knew there was something off about it.

"You wanker," Harry told himself as soon as the door closed behind Ginny. He immediately stripped down, discarding his trousers, pants, and tee shirt onto the floor. Closing the bathroom door behind him, Harry started the shower, waiting to enter until the steam was rising up above the shower curtain.

He luxuriated in the hot water, scrubbing at his body and hair. He hoped he hadn't ruined the easy camaraderie that he and Ginny had gained throughout the afternoon.

He'd just have to do his best to not make it any worse for the rest of the night, Harry resolved to himself as he finished rinsing and turned off the tap.

As he dried himself off, Harry realized that he had left his clean clothes on the bed. Hesitantly, he cracked the door to the loo open to ensure Ginny hadn't returned. Seeing that the coast was clear, Harry quickly evacuated and made a move to change.

Unfortunately for him, the door opened right as he dropped his towel. Harry scrambled to catch it before it revealed anything, but was too late. Ginny's eyes were wide, staring at him, as he struggled to cover his bits with his hands.

"Boy, Harry, you blush all over," Ginny quipped, smirking at him.

Harry felt his body heat further in embarrassment.

"Turn around!" he told her.

"Okay, okay, Harry. I don't get a free show before dinner?"

"No!" he said more forcefully than intended.

He gestured for Ginny to turn around, and finally, she did. Quickly, he pulled on his pants and a nice pair of trousers.

"Are you decent yet, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," he told her.

"Too bad," Ginny told him, a look on her face he hadn't seen in years. Was she… flirting with him? It couldn't be.

"Go stuff it," he told her.

"Now, Harry," Ginny chided, laughter in his eyes.

He rolled his own eyes at her. "What did you find out from the front desk?"

"They're severely understaffed."

"Ginny."

Ginny chuckled. "Oh, you mean about the restaurant? It's definitely a fancier place. We need to dress nicely. Good thing I packed a dress."

"You packed a dress?" Harry spluttered.

"Er, yes. Mostly because I didn't know what we'd be doing for dinner," she defended herself. She looked so cute, Harry thought, with her eyes all wide and that little blush spread across the plains of her cheeks.

"Alright," Harry said. "Well, I suppose I'll have to use my suit jacket that I have from work."

"Right," agreed Ginny. "I'll need to do some light makeup."

As Ginny sat on the floor in front of the full-length mirror, he watched as she pulled out a few cosmetic cases. It was like watching her work some sort of magic—obviously, not normal magic—as she applied different creams and powders to her face. She still looked like Ginny at the end, but a sophisticated Ginny.

"I just need to put my dress on," she told him.

He nodded, heart pounding strangely in his chest.

She slipped into the loo, and when she came out, she was wearing a green dress. Harry's mouth dried up. He suddenly wasn't sure he'd be able to make it through dinner safely.

"Alright?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah. Let's get going. We'll have to take a cab to the restaurant."

Ginny nodded and smiled.

Harry swallowed thickly, opening the door and allowing her out the door. He watched her bum move in the dress as she walked in front of him and he thought that she might be trying to kill him. This could be the day that Harry Potter would finally lose the battle with death.