A/n: my god what a weird chapter this was to write. I wrote it all mixed up time frame wise. Then pieced it together to make sense just for you people, see what I do for you guys? I thought about putting this one song here (not lyrics), to listen to download and listen to as you read the chapter, but I think it fits better with one of the later ones. Oh well...lets get on with the chapter titled -.

"Harry, I'm sorry, but I just can't leave it this way. Don't you realize what's happened to you?, there was a one second pause "I-I mean, I remember when we were younger and you were the person admired more than anyone else. And I wasn't alone. Everyone wanted to be you Harry. Not all the time but- and I know I wasn't as close to you as... well we weren't as close as we could have been or like I'm acting like we were right now, and I guess you don't owe me anything, I know. But, you do Harry! You owe us all. And I don't want to be the person that has to try and get you out of this awful life, but-but you can't rush me away like some stranger or intruder in your house-or flat. I'm here whether you like it or not...and we're gonna talk" Ginny said in a very short period of time, rushing the words close together and not allowing herself to stop for breaths for fear of one of Harry's oh so temperamental interruptions. She thought about half of that on the transport over here, and the other half was completely spontaneous. Then, before Harry could protest she had invited herself in, sliding herself through the doorway.

"Listen, just hear me out. Then after that, if you never want to speak to me again, then that's fine. I won't tell anyone where you are and I'll forget I know you."

Harry thought about his options. He was caught in some sort of Hobson's Choice. He had no alternative. "Ok," Harry whispered after a bit of thought and reasoning.

Harry was amazed. He thought that for sure he had scared her off with his yelling and verbal assault from a week before. A part of him was angry, resentful, tumultuous, outraged, fuming, hateful, annoyed, bitter, chafed, cross, displeased and enraged. Just the same, a part of him didn't care anymore. He wasn't going to get her to leave, and he couldn't afford to move apartments, so it would appear for the time being he was stuck with her. Why was it that he wasn't as outraged as he had been in times past? What was different about this time than before? He was still all of those angry adjectives, but he also had a certain indifference. He wasn't going to ask her to leave, but he wasn't going to indulge this quest to have a deep and meaningful conversation with him.

Ginny faced the dishabille one-pillow bed. She placed a stray strand of red behind her ear, turned around and faced Harry. She looked him right in the eye with a sort of pathetic apathetic manner that made Harry uncomfortable. With a small thud she dropped her purse on the dark tile and took off her thick gloves, dropping them on her purse.

After a few moments of only being able to hear the water in the pipes in the walls, Ginny grew confused. She thought that by now for sure he would have had some word of protest for her, but he said nothing. He just stood there, one thin hand still holding the worn doorknob. His other hand limp at his side. He was looking her strait in the eye just as she did to him. His expressionless face was cold and uninviting. Ginny took a step back and held her elbow. It would look as though she would have to start this conversation off. However she didn't know what to say. She realized that after all her arguing with herself, telling herself she still had unfinished business with harry, and that they needed to talk, she had no idea what they needed to talk about. If she didn't know what they needed to talk about, then why was she here? Dean had asked her to do something with him. She told him she was busy. The second time she had lied to him.

"Are you feeling ok?" Harry asked. Over the course of about a minute and a half Ginny had been thinking over these subjects and wondering what she was going to do. From Harry's perspective she had simply been looking toward the ceiling with a puzzled expression.

"I'm fine," Ginny said with a laugh after snapping out of her trance. She inhaled and slipped off her shoes.

After a few more seconds of silence Harry said, "Alright, we can talk if you want." He inhaled. "But the second that you cross the line, you're out"

With a simple nod Ginny accepted these terms and watched Harry slump into a trance of expectant grief. His body language had gone from clearly annoyed to submission and surrender.

She knew she was going to be here for a while. She thought about calling Dean, maybe telling him where she was. Aside from the fact that she didn't see a telephone anywhere in Harry's flat, she realized that that would be a bad idea and decided against it.

Ginny knew that she was on thin ice with Harry. She had intruded once before and was not about to destroy any means of their "friendship" any more than necessary. She still didn't know what she wanted to say to him. She only knew that what she wanted to say was so important that she had to lie to her boyfriend and see him yet again to say it.

"Harry?" she said gently.

He gave her a look of recognition.

"Harry, why did you leave?"

He gave her a look of thin ice.

"I just want to know. I know you had it rough, no one else was asked to do what you knew was required of you. Still, do you ever wonder-wonder if what you did was . . .selfish?" Ginny backed up and sat down on the bed looking up at him intently.

"You think I was selfish?" Harry said.

"No . . .Yes . . .I don't know. Harry, don't get mad. I understand how hard it was to be around all of those cameras, everyone telling you that you were a hero when you knew good and well that even a hero's life wouldn't be what you had bargained for. We were all unhappy. We all lost people. I understood your frustration. But when my family needed you the most, when our whole world needed you there, you left. You didn't even say you were leaving! You didn't even come to his funeral."

"Don't talk to me in that condescending tone," He barked back, "You know NOTHING of what its like to be me. I'm sorry if your comfortable life with the family and friends and normality was ruined. I guess that's all my fault-"

"Like you know what my life was like either? Seeing the family you loved so much be squashed and there is nothing you can do to stop it! You didn't have to-

"This, this is why I left! Because there were always people like you. Thinking that I had to come in and solve all the problems. When would I have done enough?"

"I don't believe that Harry. The boy I once knew was kind beyond his control. Even if what you're saying is true, he would have stayed."

"HE is dead"

"Seeing you was painful for me too ya know!"

"Then why are you here?!" Ginny studied his face. He had faint lines and creases framing his eyes displaying premature maturity. She wondered when he had last told a joke or even laughed. Swarthy hair, though unchanged in color seamed sadder than she remembered. It had remained disheveled and untidy, but its springy jubilance was replaced by droopy indifference.

She didn't know why she was there. She was growing tired of her constant inability to explain her own actions. She had stopped questioning why and decided that some things are fine left unquestioned.

"Harry, why are you here? Have you looked around? If you wanted to leave, at least do something worth wile with your life. I cant believe with all your parents left for you, and all you are, you would just throw it all away to live in a smelly apartment working at-at a muggle coffee shop!"

"So you're saying my apartment smells," He said acrimoniously.

"I'm serious Harry!, you're throwing it all away. What would Ron say? Is this how you respect his memory. I'm sorry but I-"

"You think you're so much better off than me? You think you have taken some sort of moral highroad? You're pathetic. Why don't you try and look inside yourself instead of barging into my flat on random nights to tell me what's wrong with me. You must be pretty sad to have to fix other peoples lives to feel good about yourself."

Despite Harry's desperate pablum, what he was saying was right. A part of Ginny was finding fault in Harry merely to reassure self worth. Though short and frantic Harry's insults were, they struck meaning deep within herself. When Ron died and they had to magically piece his parts back together for a proper burial, Ginny was so upset that she remembered cursing and yelling at her parents. Saying things so harsh such as that they had driven him away, and were it not for them he would still be alive. She blamed Hogwarts for not offering better protection. She blamed everyone. It was easier than just accepting the fact that sometimes, bad things happen to good people for no reason. Was that what Ginny was doing now to Harry? Was she blaming him for not making everything ok after the defeat of Voldermort? She began to think of these things, as Harry stood frozen, post insult, unsure of what was happening. Ginny then began to think past those questions of her own quality, and started to remember all the pain of that time. Despondency caused by remembrance seeped itself into her vulnerable mind (as any prolonged discussion of these events often did). Ginny thought of crying and how she wouldn't allow herself to. Harry remained standing. The part of dead Harry that was still alive almost gave a look of sympathy toward Ginny who had suddenly become quite sullen.

With Harry standing there, apologizing without words, Ginny decided to keep herself from crying and do something quite rash. Ginny sprung up from the bed, took a step forward and kissed him. She kissed him! She closed her eyes and bit down on her sadness. She repressed feelings of what was wrong with her by bringing in new feelings. Right now Dean did not exist. All that existed was the cold tile on Ginny's bare feet and the surprising warmth of Harry's mouth on hers.

Harry placed his hand on Ginny's shoulder and pulled her away from himself. The situation was illuminated and Ginny was well aware of her foolishness. Twice she blinked as she looked at Harry, shocked. Then she turned down and avoided eye-contact. Her mouth hung open. She was shocked.

Harry stood aghast, in awe. What had just happened? In dizzy surprise he had pushed her away. He rubbed his finger over his lips wiping of excess spit. Now, the awkward silences that were filled by anger morphed into uncertainty of what came next. Ginny put her hands over her eyes and sank back on the bed.

"I am so. . .Oh god. . .I'm just going to leave" Ginny grabbed her shoes, bag, and other belongings as she scurried toward the door.

Exactly three minutes and twenty-two seconds later Ginny had rushed back to the Fourth floor apartment with the green door and was exchanging saliva with one Mr. Potter.

Ginny arched her back and let the water flutter around her in jagged ripples. The water was calm underneath the loose water twirled around in the summer breeze. Her toes bobbed above and below the surface, changing temperatures and changing textures. The air was heavy and moist. It was as if the water has absorbed itself into that thick air that kissed her cheeks, lips and tempted her to close her eyes and let go. When she found herself being pulled under the water, she wasn't alarmed. The uncertain depths called to her. As if she was drugged, she began to swim deeper and deeper. Her eyes still closed. The water changed, still smooth and inviting, but the temperature grew increasingly warmer. Her skin burned and ached under its feverish surroundings. When the water became boiling hot, she opened her eyes. Amazed, she came to the realization she was in some magnificent pool of emerald and jade. The green waters sparkled under the moonlight of the sky below. Ginny rushed to the surface. This unfamiliar waterscape of sage green, even with the inky backdrop of the sky she could still manage to take in its glory. These strange waters, though unfamiliar and unexplored, were addictive in their charms. She dove under once more.

Ginny was extracted from those waters and pulled back into the present. She ripped off Harry's shirt to reveal a slightly skeletal body. His eyes widened jade, luminaries of depth and expression. Their lips were locked together with some sort of drug like satisfaction. They stood there in the middle of the apartment as the sky turned darker shades of ebony and the temperatures grew colder. It was silent. Ginny's hand still holding his removed shirt and squeezing it as she remained connected with Harry. She dropped the shirt and ran her fingers up his goosebumped back and through his black hair.

They remained kissing not even thinking about what would come next. Actually, they weren't really thinking about anything. Ginny forgot about the past, about Dean, and about where common sense should have led her. Harry forgot about his wants of solitary joy, that this was the girl with the dimples from years ago, his need for a cigarette, and his deep dissatisfaction with life. Her warm hands washed over him and created no change in the silence. They remained. His hands began feeling for the buttons of her blouse and began unbuttoning and tearing the fabric to reveal a collarbone and lace undergarment. He did not stop to glance at her body. They remained with their lips locked both tongues harshly fighting the other in a fight to the death duel. Their bodies inhaled through their noses though in actuality they felt as though breath was not important to them. They inhaled each other, and at all costs remained.

Ginny began fumbling with a cheap black belt hung around his waist as he began to unbutton and unzip her pants. When pants were removed Ginny put her hands on his hips and stopped leaning upward to reach Harry's mouth. She began kissing his neck and collarbone. Whatever she was doing she was sure it couldn't stop.

Remaining articles were removed and before either of them could stop to really look at one another or think of the logic in their actions. Ginny pulled Harry close to her for heat and comfort. Together they backed into a corner and Harry lifted Ginny up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and threw her arms around his shoulders. They were linked together along their fronts, Harry supporting her weight as she bit his ear. One hand running down his back and one hand was running through his hair. He kissed her once more as they began synchronizing the movements of their hips.

It was like all of her anger and resentment of her losses in life were relinquished through this act of fervor. She kept her eyes closed, took deep breaths and made small noises shunning her natural tendencies of bleak sorrow. Through this painful inducing ecstasy she found herself losing all those feelings tied with loss. Through penetration she found joyous emptiness. She wanted to think of nothing through everything and simply let go. She pulled her chest away from his and they were only connected by their hips like some tragic flower blooming in the spring.

They moved to the bed. Harry did not question the situation or pause for a moment. There was simply continuation and loss of thought. He poured himself into her accepting body. The legs of the bed were moving slowly across the bleak tile of the apartment by the force of their act. He dominated her, took her hands in his and continued with their rhythmic thrusting. That arctic feel perpetually enveloping his body began to fade and a warm inner consciousness was born inside him. His prolonged lack of human contact was cured in one group of condensed emotion and force. The pain he felt dripping like sweat from his body late at night lessened and he felt closer to whole than he had in two and a half years. It made no difference if it was Ginny or some other girl. It was the feeling of a connection that eased his pain, cured his illness. This was not just good sex to Harry, this was an antidote.

This was good sex Ginny thought to herself. When all the energy was squeezing out of them and their prismatic connection of sex organs grew more and more intense, Ginny let out a small scream. The apartment was cold, the surroundings were dark, and several of the surrounding flats were now aware of Ginny and Harry's actions. They gasped in unison reaching their climax together in the sad surroundings on a sheet-less bed. There they were. Two fucked up people, fucking.