For the rest of the week, things followed along the same sort of lines. Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny would fly out, find a decent spot, and basically camp there for a day. They played a bit of two-on-two quidditch every now and again (Hermione and Ron lost every time – no matter how talented Hermione was, she'd never gotten the hang of quidditch, and Harry didn't think she ever would). They talked a lot.

A couple of days after Ron and Hermione's incident, Harry managed to get Ron alone when the girls went off together.

"So," he said, "you guys seem back to normal."
Ron shrugged. "Mm. Yeah."

"What happened?"

"We talked about it."

Long silence.

"And?" Harry prompted.

"And everything's OK."

"But are you going to – you know?"

"Would you stop calling it 'you know', Harry, for Merlin's sake?" Ron snapped irritably. "Are we going to have sex? Don't know. Maybe."

"Sorry," Harry said, taken aback.

Ron sighed. "It's OK. Sorry, too. Just got a lot on my plate at the moment."

"What do you mean?"

"It'll be a year since Percy died next week. Wednesday. Dad wants us to go out to the cemetery, and I don't want to go. And then all this stuff with 'Mione, and then all she's talked about for the past week is university and job offers, and I don't know if I'll get anything. Remember how shoddy my N.E.W.Ts were."

It was true that Hermione wouldn't shut up about their letters. Even Harry knew Ron was touchy about it, but Hermione just didn't catch on when it came to things like that.

"Why don't you want to go to the cemetery?" he asked tentatively.

Ron plucked a bit of grass and began to rip it up. "Don't know," he said shortly.

Harry nodded.

The girls came back soon after. Hermione, breathless from their walk, sat down and hugged Ron immediately. He looked a little happier, and Harry tried to put what he'd said out of his mind – because the same sort of things were worrying him.

Harry loved spending time with Ginny, but it was practically impossible to get her alone. He'd never noticed before how closely the Weasleys watched the only girl in the family, and how often she was surrounded by people, but pretty soon he was thinking how lucky they were to have gone flying that first morning. That was starting to seem like a one-off, and he was getting a bit desperate. Every now and again, they'd manage a chat in his (or her) room when Ron and Hermione had scooted off, or a quick kiss in the hallway between meals, but apart from that, they were generally with Ron and 'Mione, or some other Weasley family member.

Besides, the less actual time he spent alone with her, the more time he had to fantasise about being alone with her – and that really couldn't be healthy.

He just wanted a day – one day – to spend with her, and only her. No funny business, even. Well, maybe a little funny business. But nothing out of hand. Jeez, what is too much to ask?

In the end, he approached Hermione about it. It was Saturday evening (after dinner), the end of the week. Both Fred and George were in London for the weekend (neither had moved back permanently – now their apartment had pest control issues), so Harry thought it could be the ideal time to organise a just-Harry-and-Ginny date.

He knocked on their door hesitantly, and, to his relief, Hermione answered.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Is Ginny in there?"

"She's showering. Do you want to see her?"

Harry immediately fought down images of Ginny showering – it could only lead to more trouble.

"No, you."

"Oh. Come in."

He went inside, and shut the door behind him. Hermione had three books open on her bed, and was copying from one.

"What are you doing?" he asked, thinking he might have forgotten a potions essay before he remembered he wasn't at school anymore.

"Just some research. I'm interested in the history of the Italian magical defence forces."

"Uh-huh," said Harry blankly, thinking Only Hermione …

"Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

"Well – yes." He didn't really know how to bring it up. "The thing is 'Mione – you know I love hanging out with you and Ron."
She grinned. "Yes?"

"Yeah. But, um – well, I kind of want to spend a day with Ginny. So I thought, you know, maybe you and Ron could go off together tomorrow, and then me and Ginny could do the same."

She folded her arms. "And what do I tell Ron?"

"What do you mean?"

"About you and Ginny 'going off together'", she said, making the inverted commas with her fingers.

"Hermione, all you have to say is you want to spend some time alone with him, and he won't care what we're doing," Harry said frankly.

Hermione flushed in embarrassment and looked at the floor. A moment later, she looked up. There was a different expression in her eye, but Harry couldn't quite place it.

"Actually, that sounds like a good idea," she said, quite unexpectedly.

"Oh – really?"

"I think it'd be good for you. You should get out on your own. I'll tell Ron tomorrow."

"Ah – OK. Thanks, 'Mione."

"No problem," she said.

The pipes stopped clicking overhead, which meant that Ginny's shower was over.

"See you, Harry," Hermione said, hustling him out. She shut the door on him. Harry was left standing in the corridor, feeling inexplicably like an idiot, when Ginny stepped out of the bathroom at the end of the hall.

She was wrapped in a towel, and her hair was wet and touching her shoulders. The towel covered just enough of her for Harry to want to see more. Her feet were bare and made flat, wet sounds when she stepped forward on the floorboards.

"Er – Hi Harry," she said, when she saw him, stopping immediately.

"Hello," he said. His voice was hoarse.

"Was there – something you wanted?"

"No, I – I was just talking to Hermione. About us maybe going on separate dates tomorrow. You know, her and Ron, and me and you. Separate. If you wanted?"

She looked a bit unsure.

"I just want to spend some time with you Ginny," Harry went on. He couldn't look at her, and spoke to his left. "I want us two to hang out for a day. It's driving me crazy."

Out of the corner of her eye, he saw her nod. "Me too," she said softly.

He swallowed as she came a bit closer. Very close.

"Harry," she said, when she was so close that he could have kissed the tip of her nose.

"Yes?"

"I need to get into my room now."

"Oh right. Right," he said, flushing crimson and stepping back from the door he was blocking. "Sorry."

"That's OK. Hey, where'll we go tomorrow?"

Now he met her eyes (and made sure his gaze stayed with her eyes). "I don't know," he said. "I'll think of somewhere."

"OK. 'Night."

"'Night."

She opened the door just far enough to slip inside.

"Ginny," he said quickly, touching her arm. She turned back.

"Yes?"

He kissed her. She responded immediately. Her skin was warm from the shower, and her lips tasted like steam and lip-gloss.

"Well," she said after a while, pulling away. "OK."

He grinned. "OK. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she said, and smiled back.

She slipped inside and shut the door. Harry went to his room, feeling alternately excited and self-satisfied.