Yay! There's more! And it's an exciting chapter (haha, or so I hope) with a bit of lovely awkwardness between our little lovebirds. But there's plenty of that to come. So please read and review! And I love you guys of course!

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of Ginny's room, looking up at her. She sat on her bed, today in bunny print pink pajamas, holding a flashlight.

"We've got to get those two together!" She exclaimed in a loud whisper.

Harry nodded furiously, then looked around in curiosity. "Ginny," he asked. "Aren't your walls silenced or anything?"

She rolled her eyes in reply. "No," she huffed angrily. "And it's all George and Fred's fault. You see, Mum doesn't trust them, so she de- silenced all the walls so she could hear whenever they explode something in their room."

"Oh."

"Well anyway," she stood on her bed, reaching for something on top of her giant old wooden dresser. "Ah, here we are." Pulling down a notebook and pen, she jumped off her bed, landing with a dull thud next to Harry. Sitting down cross-legged and facing him, she smiled. "So what shall we do?"

Harry shrugged. "Well I reckon we should give them as much alone time as possible," he suggested. "You know, lock them up in a room together or something."

Ginny nodded, scribbling notes into her notebook. "Yes. We could put them in some kind of a situation where Ron could help her out, you know?" she sighed dreamily. "Like in storybooks, where the prince rescues the princess. Perhaps we could have some wild beast attack them. I'm sure Hagrid could lend us one," she added thoughtfully.

Harry groaned. "That would be a disaster, Ginny. Ron's clueless! Hermione would be the one who'd keep a clear head and hex the beast."

Ginny sighed, throwing her pen down in frustration. She tucked a stray piece of red hair behind her ear, leaning against her dresser. "So what then?"

Harry too seemed deep in thought, frowning slightly at the owl cage where Pig now slumbered.

"I've got it!" he suddenly stood up triumphantly.

"Shhh!" Ginny admonished, glancing wildly at the door.

"Oh," he lowered his voice, sitting back down. Running a hand through his hair and grinning somewhat sheepishly, he joked, "Yeah, guess your parents wouldn't be too pleased if they found me in your room in the middle of the night, huh?"

Ginny blushed. "Yes, and Bill and Charlie would apparate home to roast you alive as well," she giggled. "Well, after George, Fred and Ron are through with you, that is."

He noted that she didn't mention Percy, who had completely severed himself from the family. Complete prat.

"Well then," she continued. "Tell me your idea."

"Well," he sighed dramatically. "With my pure genius," he smirked when Ginny smacked him. "I've thought up of a brilliant plan."

"Tell me!" Ginny hissed, smacking his shoulder again, this time harder.

Ouch. That would definitely leave a bruise. "Fine, fine," he raised his hands in surrender. "So, tomorrow you and me are going to just disappear."

"Disappear?" He nodded. "We're going to go erm..." here he looked down uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. "Well... we're going to go out."

Ginny stared at him. "A date, you mean?"

He shook his head, blushing. "No, not a real one. Just a fake one so that Ron and Hermione can see how deeply in love we are," he winced as Ginny smacked him for the third time. "And you know, so they can be alone while we're out of the house."

Harry could almost swear that he saw a shadow of disappointment pass over Ginny's face, but in a moment it was gone and replaced with a bright smile.

"Sounds great!" She hopped back up onto her bed. "We'll go into town tomorrow then; we are in a wizarding town you know."

He didn't, but he didn't say anything. Nodding, he stood up uncertainly. "So, I suppose I should go to bed so that we can deal with everyone tomorrow, huh?"

Ginny giggled, shaking her head. "The things we do for those two." And with that she ran over to him, blushing as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, whispering, "Goodnight Harry."

A few seconds later, Harry found himself standing outside of her closed bedroom door, his hand hovering over his cheek.

"Well," he whistled softly to himself. "That went well."