The witch, Belinda Sperst, turned out to be quite a good speaker, I observed, when I wasn't seething over Cho.

Why was I even this mad at her? It was Harry who had cheated.

Though pissed off, I was at Harry, my guy told me that part of it had been her doing. Sure, she wasn't in Gryffindor and she couldn't have known about all those secret meetings in the Astronomy Tower, but didn't she realize? Harry was through with her by the end of fifth year, weighted by Sirius's death and all, and it was me, with the help of Ron and Hermione, who got him to smile again, to get back onto his broom, to laugh… Oh, his laugh.

Needless to say, I had had enough of this Healer's seminar. I heard what I wanted to hear, picked up a few brochures, and was ready to head home. Feeling vaguely defeated, I reached into my cloak pocket for my wand when someone bumped into me. I didn't bother to look up, but I heard the person say "Ginny Weasley" in an I'm-not-surprised sort of fashion.

Glaring, I raised my head and saw Cho standing before me, slowly twisting a lock of her hair.

"Watch where you're going," I said numbly, moving to pass her.

"No wait, wait," She said, quickly moving to block me. "C'mon. Let's go somewhere we can talk peacefully. No interruptions."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she pulled me by the elbow out the door, waving to people as she did so. It wasn't until we were inside the Three Broomsticks that she let me go.

Oh, I wanted to shout at her, scream bloody murder and let my Wealsey temper-genes take over, but I sat down at the table with her, instead.

"Butterbeer, Ginny?" Cho asked. I did nothing. "Right, two butterbeers, please," she said to the waiter.

"So…" she started, pausing briefly to shake back her hair, "How are you?"

Still, I did nothing but narrow my eyes, wanting to somehow show that I did not want to be here without screaming being involved.

Cho raised a delicate eyebrow slyly. "How's Harry?"

I let out a disbelieving scoff. "Who the hell do you think you are, bringing me here and asking me that?"

Cho didn't look taken aback, not at all, but her eyes lit up with amusement as she watched my cheeks flush with anger.

"Oh dear," she said through a giggle. "Tell me that you're not still stuck on that boy! Oh ho, Ginny. C'mon, love."

I was breathing so fast, I was surprised I could still see straight, not that the current view was any pleasant.

"What… do you mean… am I still stuck on him? Harry and I… are through. We've been through since the start of the summer."

She smirked. "Really? I was under the impression that you were madly in love with eachother when I slipped him some Love-Defy Potion."

My heart stopped. "You filthy, no good, rotten…" I bit it back, I bit it back.

"How could you do that?" I asked, swallowing my anger tears.

"Simple. I saw Harry in here, at this very table, the day of your graduation; I came to watch my cousin graduate, but anyway. I saw him, slipped some Love-Defy Potion into his butterbeer, and the effect was instant." She looked very satisfied with herself.

"WHY!?" A few people at the bar fell of their stools.

"Why? Well, I suppose it was harder for me to admit it to myself before, but I was jealous of you, Ginny."

Cho didn't sound so gleeful anymore. "Yes, it started the end of fifth year, when you had played Seeker in place of Harry and beat me. That's when it started. I tried other ways of hurting you, but you were such a resilient girl, that I knew I would have to play my cards just right."

So she struck the heart, I thought.

At once, emotions and realizations dawned on me. Anger, hate, guilt, irelief/i. Harry never knew he broke my heart because technically, he never had. The Love-Defy Potion blocks off all feeling you hold for a certain person and channels the feeling to the next person you touch. Though the potion wears off in a matter of minutes, Cho had slipped it into his drink at the moment she figured I'd come waltzing through.

Suddenly, this place, Cho, nothing seemed more important that finding Harry.

Moments later, I was walking out of the Three Broomsticks, but I had repaid Cho for my drink… by dumping the tankard over her head.


The door to the Burrow's kitchen was nearly torn from the hinges; at the moment, I was being driven by thoughts and feelings that I had yet to sort out. I thanked God Ron was home, as I raced inside, breathless.

"Ron, please. Where's Harry?"

Ron was at the table, eating a bowl of stew Mum had left simmering for us. Mouth already stuffed, he managed, "Suffeweffirraminidityo," though, I got none of it.

"Swallow, you dote!" I yelled, exasperated. He gave me a defiant look, wondering why I was being cross with him for no reason.

Oh, but he didn't understand. I needed to see Harry right now.

"Ginny, you're home," Mum said, walking into the kitchen, carrying an old white china vase.

"Mum, would you please tell me where Har-"

"He just stopped by, dear," said Mum, now using a Dusting Charm to clean off the vase. "He was just upstairs, looking for you, but I had to tell him you were at that seminar. By the way, why are you back so early?"

I raked a hand through my hair, my mind a mess. "I'll explain later, I'm just going to go change…"

"Dear, take this with you," she said, holding out the case, "You'll need it." She smiled at me.

I took the vase from my mum, watching her for a sign of reason for why she had just handed me the antique. But she returned to the stove and helped herself to some stew, so I rolled my eyes, closed my mouth, and ascended the stairs to my bedroom.

My mum sat down at the table, grinning at Ron.


I opened my bedroom door with one hand, balancing the large vase in my other. I gasped when I looked over my room.

Red roses. Everywhere. Covering my bed, lacing my dresser and nightstand, scattered all across the floor, and even tucked into the light fixtures. I picked up the note that was on my pillow and read.

I can't stop thinking about you. I'm sorry for making you angry. Please, let me make it up to you, and accept these roses, which I know are your favorite, as the first step.

I'm sorry,

Harry

"Oh," I breathed, glancing from the note in one hand and the vase in the other.


Number 12 Grimmauld Place

Harry fell back onto his bed, emitting a loud sigh. He hoped he had done the right thing. Ron had warned him before that women need their space when they were mad. Then again, who was Ron to talk, the way he pestered Hermione until she came right out and screamed it for him exactly what was bothering her, though it usually was his doing. Then they would naturally not speak for a few hours until they both gave into each other, leading to very fervent make-ups. Harry winced.

But this was different with Ginny. Ron and Hermione were destined to be together, never faltering in their love or their passion for one another. Nothing would ever tear them apart. With Ginny, it felt like she was slowly slipping farther out of his reach, until he would lose her forever.

The red roses weren't just some plot to try to win her over, but were a sign of his admission of guilt. And no matter how frustrated he'd feel, knowing that he had no business feeling sorry and remorseful, Harry could only do what he thought he had to do to make amends with Ginny. Because he loved her.


I sat at a table beneath a bright purple umbrella outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, staring at my folded hands. The image of my bedroom festooned with red roses was still stuck in my mind. I placed as many of the roses into that white china vase as I could fit, and placed them beside the golden rose Neville had given me. And you know, those ordinary red roses appeared so much more beautiful to me than what a million enchanted golden ones ever could have been.

My heart was aching so badly; I could only imagine what Harry must be feeling, which was why I needed to find him. I had checked the Three Broomsticks, just now, the Diagon Square, and even the Ministry, thinking maybe he had gone back into work.

"It can't be this impossible to track someone down," I mumbled to myself. An elder witch, holding the hand of her little grandson passed by, followed closely by their house elf. That's funny; house elves usually never leave their houses. Of course, Winky had been an exception, and so had… so had Kreacher!

Kreacher, who had lived at Grimmauld Place. Would Harry be there? I don't remember hearing anything about him moving in there, but it was definitely a possibility.


I opened the door I distinctly remembered being Harry's.

And there he was, lying back on his bed, head upturned, and eyes closed. I looked over and saw his glasses sitting on the nightstand, neatly folded. Clearly, he was dozing, and here I was.

Why did he have to be asleep now? Should I really wake him?

Now or never…

Right. This was too important to simply wait for naptime to be over. But as I gently closed the door and stepped quietly over to his bed, my insides loosened and the terse determination, rushing through my bloodstream, cooled.

Harry was so beautiful while he slept. His eyes were curtained by thick, dark eyelashes; his lips looked so soft and were slightly parted, as he took deep breaths; the hand on his chest rose and fell with each one.

I was floored that the fates had ever made be separate from this man, when clearly he was all I ever really needed. Abandoning every hesitant thought or reason I had, I laid down next to him and cuddled close to him, laying my head on his shoulder.

I was about to close my eyes, completely calmed by the sound of his heart beating, when two arms closed around me.

Excitement overcame my sudden nerves, so I turned my head up to see his face.

Harry was smiling at me, a sleepy smile greatly accentuated by his sparkling green eyes. He had me with those eyes.

"Ginny," he said a bit hoarsely, "you came to me. I'm so sorry I…"

"Shhh," I hushed him, placing a finger over his lips. He kissed the finger, and I nearly gasped.

"Harry, listen to me. You don't have to be sorry."

And as he held me, arms closing ever tighter around my waist, I told him everything about Cho, the potion, how I had ignored and him and thought he had broken my heart. The whole time his gaze stayed fixed upon me, his eyes portraying every emotion he felt as I told my story, the story he never heard.

When I finished, barely capable of speaking any longer from the held back tears tight on my throat, I said to him, "So it's me who should be sorry, Harry. I am. To think that I had hated you, but that was a lie I told myself because I didn't want to love you. But now I know nothing can keep me from loving you. I'm sorry Harry. I love you."

Somehow, he managed to pull me into him even more, and I finally let my tears go, as he held onto me.

When he felt that I had cried enough, he lifted my head up and caressed away al my tears.

"Ginny, please, no more crying. We're here now, together."

Sniffing, I asked, "But aren't you upset? Hurt?"

His jaw tightened. "I am angry at Cho Chang."

"I dumped a tankard of butterbeer over her head," I intervened. Harry looked at me, surprised. "Did you?"

I nodded, grinning.

"I feel better now," he said, chuckling. "But Ginny, I'm not going to be mad at you. All of it was a mistake. It's just… in the past, now. Behind us. Here, now, we have eachother: the most important thing. I love you, Ginny Weasley."

"I love you, Harry Potter."

The words I wanted to say for months were finally out. "And Harry," I said, looking into his eyes, "thank you for the roses."

He smiled, closing in to give me a kiss with such unbridled passion, that I felt my toes curl and my body yearn for more. This was bliss. Once again and forevermore, I would stand on my cloud, love… and be loved.

- FIN -