*A/N Thanks, you faithful reviewers, you (esp Melidaleo with her ever cogent comments – I know, Harry's being SUCH a boy. And yes, still carrying that emotional crippled-ness… don't think that's a word, but it's my fanfic, so I'll MAKE it a word – flizzerwoozle! The fact that he's been with someone else – I was going for realism. I didn't want things to be too pat (even though the fluffy part of my brain would love it to be). Anyway, I'm glad you guys are pleased with what's happening (er, I think you're pleased – if you're not, I didn't pick it up hehe)… Let's move it along… Ps – Who can tell I love Fred and George?

~

When Harry went into his and Ron's room, the first thing he saw was Ron and Hermione sitting on Ron's bed, laughing, their heads close together. He felt immediately depressed and somewhat angry.

When Hermione saw him, she straightaway noticed that something was wrong.

"What's –" she began, but when Harry looked at her, she shut her mouth quickly. Not the time to speak, Harry's in a mood. He could almost see her thinking it.

"Er – I'll be in Gin's room, Ron," Hermione said. She kissed him quickly.

"OK," said Ron, smiling. He hadn't picked up on the vibe yet.

Hermione slid off the bed and out. Harry sat down heavily on the only chair in Ron's room.

"Hey," Ron said cheerily. "Good date?"

"It started off OK –" Harry began, and then whipped around. "Hey! You knew?"

Ron shrugged. "'Course. Mione told me. I think it's great, but she said you wanted to wait a bit to let me know. Don't worry, I won't pummel you – hey, what's the matter?"

"Remind me not to tell Hermione anything ever again, then," Harry snapped.

"What happened?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "Shit," he said. He slammed his palm hard against the desk and it rattled. It made him feel a little better, but not much.

"What?" Ron demanded, clearly alarmed now.

Harry told the story.

There was a long silence when he'd finished.

"You said that to Ginny?" Ron asked. His voice was disbelieving.

Harry leant his forehead against the edge of the desk. "I know, I know."

"You told her about that rumour?"

"It slipped out! I didn't mean to. And I was trying to tell her I didn't believe it – not now that she'd told me it wasn't true, anyway …"

Ron whistled. "That's bad. That's really bad."

"Shit!" Harry said again, a bit desperately. "I know, it is bad! I knew it was bad when it was coming out of my mouth. But then, you should have heard her. Started accusing me of wanting to use her because I thought she'd give it away –"

"Did you?" Ron interrupted, his face hard.

Harry just looked at him witheringly. Ron nodded and shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "Had to ask. Big brother."

Harry waved a hand at him. "It's OK. Merlin, she shouted at me. I thought I was talking to your mum for a minute."

Ron laughed wryly. "Yeah, she can do that." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I don't know what you can do. To be honest – even I sort of believed that rumour, Harry. I mean, I knew these things get exaggerated, but she had so many boyfriends I thought that she must have – you know, with one at least. And it's not like it was big news. Just a, 'Hey, I heard Ginny Weasley slept with Macmillan.'"

"I know, I know," Harry said dully, for about the fifth time. The words were beginning to lose all meaning. He looked at Ron sidelong. "Actually, I'm surprised you didn't take more offence at all that."

Ron shrugged. "Ginny's business is her business," he said simply. "She's got enough protective older brothers. I do my bit when I have to, and the rest I leave to her. I learnt that after fifth year, I guess."

He sounded very sensible. It was weird.

"Not that I wouldn't thrash the first person who called her a slag," he said then, intensely, before relaxing a little. "But I never heard anyone call her that, so – you know."

Ah. There was regular Ron.

"Well – what do I do?" Harry said after a moment.

Ron raised and dropped his hands. "I don't know, mate. I really do not know."

Neither did Harry. He didn't think an apology – or even two apologies – was going to get him out of this one.

"Sorry to put this on you," Harry said finally. "What did you guys do today?"

"Oh, nothing," Ron replied, a little too quickly. Harry was immediately sceptical.

"You did nothing all day?"

"Well – no," Ron said reluctantly.

"What, then?" Harry asked, even though he thought he might already know the answer.

Ron looked both pleased and embarrassed. "Well – we –" He trailed off pointedly, and Harry's eyes widened.

"Today?"

Ron shrugged and couldn't stop a grin. "Mm."
Harry was momentarily speechless. "You and 'Mione – today?" he repeated.

"Yeah."

Again, speechless. "Where?" Harry asked finally. He didn't exactly want details, but he had to say something.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Gazebo," he said. "Hermione charmed it."

He began to find voice again. "No wonder you were grinning so much when I came in. And how was it?"

"Good," Ron said, flushing. "Really good."

"Well – I'm glad," Harry said eventually. He was … but not as much as he could have been. It was like a double blow to know that on the day he screwed things up with Ginny, Ron and Hermione were – screwing in other ways. The normally unperceptive Ron somehow seemed to pick this up. Maybe he was putting himself in the same situation or something, but he patted Harry on the back sympathetically.

"I'm sorry about Ginny, mate," he said.

"Yeah."

"So what are you going to do?"

Harry thought for a moment. Then he straightened his glasses on his nose and sat up.

"Don't worry," he said resolutely. "It's not over yet."

~

Mr and Mrs Weasley had gone to a ministry dinner, leaving Fred and George with strict instructions on how to conjure a roast dinner. Fred and George had nodded mutely until their mother left, and then turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were standing in the kitchen.

"Right," Fred said cheerfully. "Bacon and eggs. Pull up a pew."

"Where's Ginny?" asked George.

Nobody replied. George narrowed his eyes at Hermione.

"What?" she protested.

"If Ginny's upset, you're the one who'll know about it, you – girl," George said accusingly.

"I – um –" Her eyes flicked towards Harry, who was preparing himself to be throttled, but then she seemed to gather herself. "Period pains," she said briskly.

Fred stopped rooting around in the cupboard for his frying pan, and George's eyebrows shot up several centimetres.

"Well," he said, coughing. "Alright, then."

He turned away, and Hermione smiled smugly at Ron, and then leant forward to hiss at Harry: "You don't deserve that!"

"What?" he whispered back.

"I can't believe you said that to her! I thought you had more sense."

"I know," he said wearily.

Ron murmured in her ear. Hermione leant into him, and Harry tried to think of what he could say to Ginny that might possibly recover his previous blunder.

As his gaze scanned the room, it fell upon the staircase, which Ginny just happened to be descending. She met his eye, and then looked immediately in another direction. Harry's stomach clenched. This was worse than before. At least she didn't hate him before.

"Oh!" said Fred in surprise.

"Ginny? I thought you had – you know –" George let the words hang in the air while she frowned at him, distinctly puzzled. "Er, never mind," George finished eventually, throwing Hermione a death-stare.

Ginny stood beside Hermione, who rubbed one of her arms briefly in sympathy.

Harry wanted to do the same, and the fact that this was clearly impossible left him feeling guiltier than ever, and ridiculously jealous of Hermione.

~

Dinner was awkward as arse. Even the often oblivious Fred and George picked up on it.

"OK," Fred said – once he was finished eating, of course – "What's this all about?"

All four of them stared at their plates and didn't say anything.

Fred and George looked at one another.

"Right," continued George, very business-like. "If you've broken something, we need to know so we can replace it before Mum and Dad get home. If you haven't broken something, and it's nothing to do with us, please continue to be silent."
They continued to be silent. Harry heard Ginny swallow and his heart rose up in his chest.

"Excellent," Fred said cheerfully. "Plates in the sink."

~

"Ginny. Please open up." Harry banged harder on the door, which trembled. It was about nine o'clock, and his willpower had not held out – he'd been going to wait until tomorrow to plead, but it was proving far too difficult to just sit back. "Please open up. I need to talk to you."
Hermione pulled the door open just as he was raising his hand to knock again.

"Harry," she said. "I don't think this is a good time. Maybe you should wait until morning."

"I was going to," he said impatiently. "I can't. Let me in, 'Mione."

She shook her head.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," he snapped. "This is ridiculous."

"Hey!" Hermione said loudly, prodding him in the chest with one finger. "I'm not the one who messed things up, am I, so don't go getting shirty with me."
He sighed and looked at his hands – they were shaking.

"I'm sorry. Really sorry. This is just so frustrating."

"Alright. OK. I know." She looked back into the bedroom, and then turned helplessly to Harry. "She just won't see you, Harry. You'll have to wait it out."

Wait it out said inner monologue incredulously. Good Lord, I've barely lasted an afternoon.

"Fine," said Harry aloud, grimly. "I'll wait it out."

That night, he went to bed early, forgoing his dreamless sleep potion – he hadn't seemed to need it lately. But tonight he dreamt. He saw Voldemort with his hands wrapped around Ginny's throat, while Harry tried to get to her. But he couldn't get close – dead people kept stepping in his way: his mother, Cedric Diggory, Sirius, until there were so many that he couldn't see anymore. They pushed him down, and all he could hear was Ginny's choking breaths.