Muggles really had the right idea about relaxing, or at least Glin thought so. What on Earth could be better than having a nice hot bath, followed by a mud mask and a heart-wrenching movie? She popped the movie into the player and fast forwarded through the previews. If she had to see another movie about a woman whose soul mate is a gay man, she was quite possibly going to vomit.

The feature presentation sign flashed, and Glin hit the play button on the remote. A soft, mellifluous voice floated into the room, matching her wistful mood perfectly. She would have wiped her teary eyes, but her avocado mask still have ten minutes to go, and she didn't want to get goop on her hands.

The movie played, never quite breaking out of the weepy territory it had entered after the bit with the morning gorilla/man scene. She hit the pause button, and went to wipe the goop off her face, at it was beginning to harden. Suddenly a loud knocking came from the front door.

It was Ron. Who else would have to gall to disturb her beauty night? It didn't really matter, though, because she wasn't going to answer the door. After all, there was a reason she'd disconnected the fireplace tonight, wasn't there?

But what if there was an emergency? It wasn't entirely out of the realm of reality to think that Hermione was dropping by with important saving the world business. Or maybe Ginny was stopping by to have girl talk about Draco. Or someone who wanted to discuss modeling? After all, Glin was an important and vital person. Not everything in her life had to do with Ron. In fact, very little had to do with Ron at all.

She walked to the door and put her eye to the peephole.

"BLARGH!" There was an eye, looking right into hers. And worst of all, it was Ron's eye. His big, ugly, oafish eye was glaring right into her apartment. Not that he could see anything, but it was the principle of the thing. You didn't just go looking into other people's peepholes. They weren't there so you could just spy on people. Well, they were, only not in that way. The semantics didn't really matter. It was her peephole, her apartment, and his eye had no place being in it at all.

His significantly muffled voice floated through the door. While she couldn't make out the words, she figured the gist of it was that he wanted to kiss and make up. Or fuck and make up, as the case usually was with Ron. With an air of indifference, Glin walked away from the door, refusing to even acknowledge his presence. He kept knocking, and was now shouting something of the "let me in," nature, or so she supposed.

Ignoring the noise completely, Glin went to the bathroom and washed the goop off her face. She moisturized, then walked into the kitchen to make popcorn. A few minutes later, the knocking was still going full force, but at least she had snacks now. Settling herself on the couch, she started the video again.

Ron knocked harder.

Glin upped the volume of the video.

He got louder.

David Duchovny got weepier.

On and on, until she couldn't stand it any longer. She threw open the door. "What is it? What's so incredibly fucking important that it can't wait another day?"

"You disconnected the fireplace. I was worried." His brow was wrinkled. "Why didn't you answer the door?"

"Because I don't like you, and I'm busy. Go away."

"Who else is here?" He asked, suspicious all of a sudden.

"My hot date," she said sarcastically. "I decide to pull out all the stops and woo him with my grungy old sweatpants, rabbit slippers and popcorn. What business is it of yours?"

"I'm your...guy, I guess. It's my business," he proclaimed angrily. "Just because we had a fight doesn't mean we aren't..."

"What Ron? People who piss each other off then have meaningless sex? What are we?"

"Erm... dating?"

"No, dating involves going out. We're fucking, Ron. Fucking only involves fucking. Why can't you manage to get your tongue around that, pardon the pun? Is it the repressed British thing?"

"I can say it. But I think we're more than that. We're... lovers, I guess."

"'Lovers' involves love, and we don't have that either. Whatever it is we are, it's not working."

"It could, if you only tried to be happy."

"You're babbling like an idiot again, Ron. I'm tired. Get out."

"Just think about it rationally for a moment. What would you be doing if I left? What would make you happy?"

"I'd take my popcorn and finish my movie."

"Then that's what we'll do," he said, kissing her on the cheek. He pushed past her and snagged the popcorn bowl on the way to the couch. As if with a quick, companionable kiss on the cheek he could make up for everything.

And really, wasn't that what she'd been upset about in the first place? His complete ignorance of any problems at all? It didn't matter now, though, not when he was sitting watching what was undeniably a "chick flick." Not when he was eating popcorn and being friendly. Perhaps this was exactly what they needed. A night where they were just friends, where there was no pressure...

"D'you have anything to drink?" He called from the living room.

She flopped down on the opposite side of the couch, determined to give him the cold shoulder until he left. "Get it yourself."





After six weeks of immobility, Ginny's legs were considerably wobbly. This hadn't hindered her movement, however. Since the medi-wizard had told her she could get out of the wheelchair, she'd been walking as often as possible.

They'd had dinner at Ginny's flat that night. Malfoy Manor had been thoroughly checked over by aurors, and had been returned to Draco's care. The Manor had been left in disarray and Draco had chosen to keep his hotel suite rather than stay in a messy manor with bad memories.

They'd had a quiet, intimate dinner. Minnie'd actually volunteered to visit Remus this evening, so they had the place to themselves. Take-away Chinese provided a welcome change from the frozen lasagna and curries with which Mrs. Weasley had filled Ginny's refrigerator.

"More fried rice?" He asked. "There's still half the box left, and there appears to be a big chunk of egg in it..."

She smiled, loving the way he knew that she loved egg in her fried rice. "It'll have to go in the fridge. I'm stuffed."

"Cookie, then?"

She nodded, and they cracked open the cookies to see their fortunes. Anti-climatically for both of them they both read, "I love you."

"You cheated!" Ginny exclaimed. "You magicked mine!"

"No more than you did mine," he smiled and kissed her on the nose. "How're your legs?"

"Working," she replied matter-of-factly.

"You know what I mean," he said sternly.

"They're fine, Draco. Just a little ache-y."

"You haven't been having spasms, then?"

"Not many," she answered unhappily, knowing he'd worry. "They only last for a few moments, then I'm fine."

"When?" He asked, concern twisting his features.

"At night mostly. It's not a problem."

"It is though. I can see it on your face. Let me put these things away and then I'll rub them. Go put on a pair of shorts or something."

Draco began on the dishes while Ginny changed into one of her pajama short sets. Pulling open the medicine chest, she looked for the bottle of blended tea trea oil. Finding the clear bottle filled with pale amber oil, she returned to the bedroom, where Draco was waiting for her.

"Get on the bed," he said gruffly.

She handed him the bottle of oil, and laid face down on the bed so Draco could knead her calves. His weight dipped the bed, and moments later she felt his warm oil slicked hands gently caressing the muscles of her lower legs, and working his way upward.

By the time he'd finished, her legs felt like warm pools of jelly. The bed dipped again as he moved back to the floor. His voice was quiet, somber somehow. "I've got to go, Gin."

"Why?" She asked, her voice soft and raspy with sleep.

"Because I'm...we're...if I stay..."

"The medi-wizard said we just have to go slow."

"I'm almost positive I can't go slow. Not after this long, Ginny."

"Then sleep on the floor again. I sleep so much better when you're here."

"I'll sleep on the couch then. You stay in here, I stay out there, okay?"

"All right. I love you. G'night."




"So basically, you've spent your whole life looking for that one woman who'd complete you?" Joanne asked him, staring deep into his eyes.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Bill said seriously, losing himself in her gaze. Her eyes were twinkling at him. He hadn't known a persons eyes could actually twinkle. How could such a beautiful woman be an undercover auror?

"You are absolutely full of bullshit, Bill Weasley!" She exclaimed, giggling and shoving him lightly on the shoulder. "I know all about you, and you've done no such thing!"

He sulked, and sat back on the overstuffed hotel couch. "What did they tell you?"

"I can't reveal my sources, Bill, but they say you've been quite the ladies man. I've heard about broken-hearts all over the Eastern Hemisphere..." He was still sulking. "Stop pouting Bill, it makes your face look...Well, actually it makes your face look rather adorable. Continue please."

"Whatever you say, Commander," he replied as he brushed her lips with his.





She'd been giving him the cold shoulder. It would have been a great deal more practical to give herself a cold shower. He'd started by rubbing her feet, and now she was laying on top of him.

Although it wasn't entirely sexual, which was odd. He was sprawled out on the length of the couch, and she was cuddled on top of him, watching the movie and sobbing at the sad parts as he rubbed her back.

It was weird.

She hadn't really expected Ron to be the back-rubbing type. Hell, for a great deal of time, she hadn't expected Ron to be the straight kind. Yet here they were, curled up on the couch watching a movie like normal people, like two people who actually cared about each other.

To reiterate, it was weird.

The screen faded to black and the credits began to dance across the screen. Ron continued rubbing her back and began to speak. "I'd like for us to go back to my flat now."

Glin stiffened. "It's all you think about, isn't it?"

"I'm not going to lie, Glin. I like having sex with you. I enjoy it a great deal. But more than that I'd like to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up early and make you waffles."

"Oh."





Ginny woke with a start. For a moment she wasn't sure why exactly she'd woken up. And then she realized there was a sharp shooting pain in her leg. "Oh," she said to the empty room.

She massaged it herself until the pain was lessened. A glance flicked towards her alarm clock revealed that it was 3:47 in the morning. It was a good thing tomorrow was Saturday, because she certainly wasn't going to get back to bed now.

She hobbled into the kitchen to make herself a cup of chamomile tea, wincing at the cool linoleum beneath her feet.

A noise from the couch startled her and she almost dropped her mug. It was just Draco shifting in his sleep. She settled into an armchair and drank her tea, watching him sleep.

He looked like a child in his sleep, vulnerable, but in a good way. His arms were hugging a pillow, and a small smile was on his face. Perhaps he was dreaming about her. She finished sipping her tea and took her mug to the kitchen sink.

Bending down over him, she pressed a kiss to his temple.

She'd only intended to kiss him, because he'd looked sweet. But she soon found herself taking the pillow from his arms and replacing it with herself.

In his sleep, he clutched her closer and fell deeper into his dreams.





Glin awoke to the smell of something burning.

She was in Ron's bed, and it was only eight in the morning. This led her to one conclusion and one conclusion only.

The building was burning and he had left her here to die.

She scrambled out of bed, wrapping a sheet about herself, because she didn't want to be rescued nude, and made a mad dash for the front door.

"Where're you going?" Ron called from the kitchen.

He was in the kitchen. Did he know how to use a kitchen? She was fairly certain he didn't.

"I was trying to make waffles, but they didn't turn out so well. We could order in, I suppose..."

"Let's just clean this up and go back to bed," Glin offered.

"I thought you wanted to be up before noon..."

"We'll start next week," she said, pulling him into her arms for a good morning kiss. "Ron, if I died, would you fall in love with the person who had my heart?"

"Glin," he said in a teasing voice. "If you die, I'll die too."




Draco woke with an odd sensation. There was a soft, warm weight resting on top of him. And it felt like..."Ginny?"

"G'morning," she said sleepily, before kissing him thoroughly.

"Ginny, we can't."

"The longer we wait, the harder it's going to get. No pun intended." She smiled thoughtfully for a moment. "Aw, hell, pun intended." She began to kiss him again.

"Erm..."

"No talking."