A/N *Hey – thanks for reviews. He's talking about Voldemort, Melindaleo – I was kind of going with the idea that a) Harry would be quite traumatised about having to kill someone in cold-blood like that, even if it was Voldemort and b) that Voldemort and everything he did isn't just going to disappear overnight, with his death. So yes, physically he's dead, but he still kind of 'lives on' in the after-effects in everybody else's lives (including Dumbledore's illness) … which is kind of what Harry was saying … and yes, I know Harry is swearing a bit – it always irks me that they don't swear in the book very much, 'cos I'm sure they would … but when I read back on it, he did manage to slip the F-word in there a tad more than I thought he had, hehe, so I'll ease back a bit. (Am still deciding whether or not Malfoy will come into this again. Kind of just wanted to clear his name, is you will, because I've always thought he's deeper than JKR suggests.) Anyway, we all clear? Thanks for reading, my love goes out to ya J PS – Melindaleo again, don't know what's going down with the chapters, they're just being arses, and are taking a while to update… OK, very sorry, let's go with the story now! PPS – Anybody who can spot the shout-out to John Mayer in this chapter wins – erm – my undying respect? Hehe … PPPS – I know, I said I'd go away but I just thought of something – they Accioed Ginny's stuff from the locker after they got home (whoops… yes I am a completely-in-control author). ~nm3x5s~

Harry came downstairs at about half past seven the next morning, still a bit sleepy. The first thing he saw was Fred at the stove – with a frying pan full of bacon and eggs.

"Fred?" Harry said in disbelief.

Fred spun around. He was wearing one of his mum's flowery aprons.

"All can be explained," he said, a bit desperately.

Harry grinned. "Why are you cooking?"

"Angelina's coming over," Fred said. "And I said I'd cook. Except I don't know how, really. And I don't want to tell Mum, because she'd flip out that Ange was coming over at all. So I thought – she's coming in the morning, morning's breakfast time, what's one of the few things I can make? Why, bacon and eggs, Fred. And so – here I am. Let's hear it for me." He used a pair of metal tongs to turn the bacon over.

"Why don't you just use magic?"

Fred shrugged helplessly. "Me and George never bothered to learn household spells, apart from the Temporary Invisibility charm – that made our rooms look like they were clean if Mum was on the war-path."
Harry laughed. "Where is George?"

"He's gone back to London to watch the shop with Lee."

Harry was momentarily dumbstruck. "So it's – just you here?"

Fred grinned over his shoulder at him. "For today."

"Right." A Weasley twin all on his own – what a bizarre concept. Still, it was good. It meant that for a day at least, it was one less person to worry about bumping into with Ginny.

Ginny, sighed inner monologue. A memory came back – like the others, which were less violent lately (A/N see Chap 1 if you've forgotten) – in a sudden rush. Ginny wanted to be with him.

"Oi. Potter." Harry jerked as he heard his name. Fred was looking at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised. "You alright there, poppet?"

"Fine." He looked out the window, and could see a small figure approaching in the distance. "I think Angelina's on her way."

"Oh, crap," Fred said, carefully putting his frying pan down before struggling out of the apron. He thrust it at Harry. "Hide this," he said firmly. Out the window, she was closer – her features could clearly be seen, including the big smile on her face. "Go, go," Fred insisted. Harry went up the stairs again and was back in his and Ron's room before he realised he hadn't got any breakfast.

~

An hour later, Ron was up too, and searching wearily for his pants. Harry was reading the 1997 Chudley Cannons Album. There was a knock at the door, and Harry immediately closed his book.

"Come in," he said.

Hermione and Ginny entered. Ron froze, pantless, like a deer in headlights.

"Hermione," he hissed. "Go back, I'm getting dressed."

"Don't be silly," Hermione scoffed, and went to sit on his bed. Ginny hovered in the doorway, looking a bit uncertain. Harry stared at her, trying to look like he wasn't staring at her. She was wearing what she'd been wearing the day they flew.

"So," he said casually, as Ron pulled on his jeans. "What are you two doing today?"

Hermione looked at Ron, who shrugged. "Don't know."

"Ginny?" he asked, feeling a bit tense now.

She smiled and shrugged too.

"Well, if you want to go off, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and I will keep each other company …"

Ginny interrupted him. "I've got a better idea. Why don't we all go out picnicking? I couldn't come last time."
Bad idea thought Harry desperately. I want just you. Ginny was avoiding his eye.

Ron looked at Hermione, who was looking at Harry as if to say 'Only if you don't mind'. Harry ended up raising his arms and smiling in what he hoped was a convincingly inviting way.

"Alright," said Hermione. "That sounds lovely. I'll get shoes." She ducked out.

"Shall we invite Fred and George?" asked Ron.

"Fred's having breakfast with Angelina in the kitchen, and George is in London," Harry announced. He stood up. "How about Ginny and I get the brooms ready?" Before Ron could offer his help, Harry took her by the arm and marched her down the stairs. He waited until they were outside before he spoke.

"What was that?" he said in her ear.

"That," she said, shaking him off, "was me being sensible."

"Oh, really? Sensible."

"Yes, sensible," she repeated, sounding a little angry now. "Remember what happened yesterday? We were kissing up against my door, and you'd only just asked me to go out with you."

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, thinking It didn't seem so bad to me.

"Harry," she said patiently, outside the shed door. "I don't want us to be just about – that. I want to know you. I want to know everything about you."

"Me too," he said honestly.

"And – I don't think if we're snogging every five minutes, I'm going to hear much of what you're telling me about yourself."
Good point acknowledged inner monologue. "True," said Harry aloud.

"So you see, don't you?"

"I think so." Why did she have to be so bloody right?

And then she blushed and looked at her sneaker-ed feet. "I just don't trust myself around you."
That made Harry grin. He scratched his head. "That's OK," Harry said. "Let's just … go slow."

They turned as Ron came out the door, whispering in Hermione's ear. Hermione was giggling and nudging him with a shoulder.

"That's not to say," Harry went on quickly, turning to face Ginny again and speaking in what he hoped was a conversational tone, "that there won't be any more – you know."

She shook her head at him. "You're incorrigible," she said.

"No I'm not," protested Harry. "I want to know you too. And it's not really about the snogging, though that's nice. Just – I want you all to myself. I want to spend time with just us."
Ginny started to smile, when Ron and Hermione stepped between them and sallied forth through the open shed door. "Come on," called Ron. "Let's go, already."
Harry and Ginny looked at each other.

OK, Harry thought, his heart beating faster. I can handle this.

~

They passed the day lazily, lying on the grass, chatting about nothing. Hermione lay with her head in Ron's lap, and it was torture for Harry to watch Ginny, sitting opposite him with her legs crossed. He didn't know how he'd managed it before – because it seemed to him that he'd felt this way about Ginny since before he even knew it. Maybe that he always had. He physically couldn't remember what it was like to look at her, and not want to touch her or talk to her.

When Ron and Hermione went for a swim, Ginny crawled over to sit next to Harry. She took his hand.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi."

She paused. "So talk to me."

"What about?"

"I don't mind." She lay back on the grass and he did too, their fingers enlaced. "Tell me about before you came to Hogwarts."

His expression immediately darkened. "You don't want to hear about that," he said.

"Yes I do," she said firmly. "I want to hear about it."
He looked at her. She was serious, and he thought suddenly, I want to tell her.  "Alright," he said, and then found himself speaking about the ten years he spent at the Dursley's – the humiliations, the loneliness – the stuff he'd never told anybody else. She was a very good listener. She never interrupted unless it was to ask a gentle question about some point in particular, and he found himself saying things he hadn't thought he'd ever say out loud.

Half an hour later, he trailed off. She was frowning at him.

"What?" he said.

"You look sad again." She rolled onto her front, leant forward, and kissed him between the brows. He desperately wanted to grab her and kiss her again, but forced himself to calm.

Go slow, he thought. Go slow.

She fell onto her back again, and looked at him happily.

"Now you," he said.

"Me what?"

"Tell me about what it's like to grow up at The Burrow?"

"The Burrow," she said, and told him.

When she was finished, he pulled their linked hands up to his mouth and kissed her thumb (after a failed attempt in which he only managed to kiss his own), and they both lay for a while in silence.

Ron and Hermione came up the hill then, dressed, their hair still wet. Both were blushing furiously. Harry and Ginny quickly released one another's hands and sat up.

"What's going on there?" muttered Ginny.

Harry shrugged.

"Come on," Hermione said, reaching them. "Let's go."

"Er – OK." Harry jogged to his broomstick and mounted it. He looked behind him. Ginny was ready, but Hermione was standing in front of Ron a little distance away. Ron had hold of both her wrists and was talking at a furious pace. Finally, she nodded and hugged him. He kissed the top of her head, looking relieved.

Harry resolved to find out what that was all about once they were home.

"Let's go," he shouted, once Ron and Hermione were onboard Ron's broomstick.

Ginny kicked off first. He followed her into the sky, and the others brought up the rear.

~

There was an hour before dinner, so everyone trouped off to their respective rooms. As soon as the door to Harry and Ron's was shut, Ron threw himself down on his bed and covered his face with his hands.

"What happened?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Jeez," said Ron. He took his hands away, and looked at Harry. "Jeez."

Now he was interested. Harry moved to sit on Ron's bed. "What happened?" he repeated.

"Well," began Ron, but then began to blush again. "I can't," he said.

"Tell me," Harry insisted. "Merlin, it can't be that bad. Did you fight?"

"Well, kind of," said Ron. "No. Everything was going alright. Hermione had done Accio Bathing Suits so we could swim. So we did – swim, I mean."

He stopped. Harry prodded him in the leg. "Then what?"

"Well then – I guess we were fooling about a bit – and we were holding each other in the water, right?"

"Right," said Harry, feeling distinctly uncomfortable now, but wanting to hear the end of the story.

"And – and suddenly – we didn't have our bathing suits. We'd vanished them, by accident. Sort of unconsciously, you know? Like before Hogwarts, when you do magic without meaning to, just because you – well, you want something, don't you? And it was actually a few moments before we even really noticed. But when Hermione did, she freaked out, and then I noticed, and it was just – awful. She was upset."

"Oh," said Harry awkwardly.

"Well, of course she was upset. I think she thought I'd done it for a moment there, but then I talked to her, and I'm pretty sure she was even more embarrassed once she realised it was both of us." He groaned and put his pillow over his face. Harry took it away from him.

"Well, you looked like you'd sorted it out before. This is no reason to smother yourself," he said. Then he hesitated, wondering if he should say anything. "Maybe – it's a sign."

"A sign of what?"

"That you're ready. For – you know."
Ron sighed. "I don't know. I was bloody ready then, I can tell you, but I really don't want to push her."

Harry and Ron were silent a moment. Harry considered bringing up the whole Ginny issue, but thought it was probably not a good time.

"Come on," he said. "Cheer up."

"Can't," Ron muttered.

"Come on," Harry said again. "It's dinner in a minute. And maybe you can talk to her properly after that."

Ron brightened a little. "Yeah, maybe." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and took a deep breath. "OK," he said. "It's fine. Let's go now."

~

After dinner, Ron did manage to drag Hermione out of the house to talk. She seemed reluctant – Harry didn't think she wanted to revisit the whole incident – but eventually complied. Harry and Ginny sat on the floor in Ginny's room.

"She told you?" Harry asked.

"Of course. He told you?"

"Yeah. I was a bit weirded out, actually."

She giggled. "Me too. Ah well. They'll sort it out. I'm pretty sure they'll get married one day, really, and then they won't care at all." She looked sideways at Harry. "Isn't that funny, to think that Ron and Hermione could end up together?"

"No," he said, half-smiling. "It's not funny at all. It's exactly right."

"Mm," she said. She moved closer to him and he put his arm around her. "This feels exactly right," she murmured sleepily.

Harry thought so too. "How do you think our first day together went, then?" he asked eventually.

"Good," she said. "Considering we weren't together, together."

"Hey, that's your fault, not mine."

"I know. I'm glad. I liked talking to you."

"I liked talking to you." He wanted to explain to her how he felt, but wasn't sure he could. "I've always liked talking to you," he said finally.

She tilted her head to look at him. "Really?"
Harry shrugged. "You know how to say what's right. And you make me feel better." 

She sighed into the region of his chest. "This is nice," she said. "I hope things just stay like this, for a while."

~

I'm not a big fan of this chappy, but you wanted fluff, so here's a plateful. J R&R darlinks!