Chapter 3.

"Have a good time!" Harry hugged Hermione one Friday evening.

"I'm sure I will!" Hermione kissed him softly.

"And don't get too drunk!" He winked. "The idea of five giggling girls with alcohol in their system...and how they gossip about men...it scares me!"

"Harry. It's a hen night! You're supposed to get drunk!" She giggled.

"Oh well." He said, sighing. "I'll see you tomorrow, prepared for the huge hangover!"

"Love you!"

"Love you!" He grinned, as he watched her leave.

He sighed. Lavender's hen night, which both he and Ron, and Neville, and Dean and Seamus had been worrying about: was tonight. From experience of the girl's dorm slumber-parties at Hogwarts...they could barely imagine what would be going on now, as adults...with more alcohol. They had cringed to think about the scariness that was a group of girls together...and worst...their girlfriends. Ok, granted, it was only Harry, Ron and Dean who had girlfriends going, but Neville and Seamus were close friends with all the girls too, and they worried just as much. As smart as any of the boys were...none had too much of a clue where girls were concerned. Sure, some things had changed as they got to their final years of school and beyond...but girls were still the biggest mystery out there.

Sighing, Harry sat down and took out a few beers. He had originally arranged to meet the rest of the boys in the pub that night, but that got cancelled at the last minute, as Dean and Seamus were working in the morning, and Neville was visiting his gran for the weekend. They had decided to just call it off, as they had the stag party the week after anyway.

So now, Harry was left wondering what to do. He turned on the television and flicked through the channels. There was some chat show on, 'boring', a programme about decorating your house, 'Hermione likes those things' , A cookery programme, an old black and white film...all the choices weren't interesting him. He finally settled on a football game. He had never gotten to like football that much, as his love of Quidditch put him off much else, and football was so boring without magic. All the same, it was still a sport, and the most interesting thing on tv. After a few hours, and a few more beers, Harry dosed off on the sofa. He was awoken by a banging on the door at 11.30pm. Alarmed, he leapt up and answered it. It was Ginny. A very drunk Ginny.

"Hey...aren't you meant to be at the hen night?" Harry asked.

"I..um...oh yeah, so I was." She slurred, stumbling past him into the house.

"Is everything ok?" Harry asked, a little unsure as to what to do.

"Everything's fiiiine!" She drawled. "They wanted to move on to another pub, but I said I was going home." She said, hiccupping a few times.

"Oh, alright." He said, awkwardly. "You just going to crash here then?"

"Oooh, can I?" She giggled. Harry didn't see what was funny, but then again, by the looks of it, she had had much more to drink than him.

"Um, sure." He said. "Erm, do you want a glass of water or something? Tea?"

"Oooh, water would be...hic lovely." She said, sprawled on the couch.

Harry shook his head and went into the kitchen to pour her a glass of water. When he returned, she had stood up, and, wobbling slightly, was looking about the room.

"Oooh, there's our Harry!" She slurred, staggering over to him. "Always caring for...hic...everyone!" She said, grabbing the water, sloshing some onto the carpet. "Oooops!" She giggled, and put the glass on the table.

"That's ok, it's only water, It'll dry." He said, slightly disturbed at the sight of Ginny.

She walked backwards and fell back onto the couch.

"Come sit with me, Harry." She said, her mood somewhat changed from the giggles she had been previously.

He walked over and sat beside her. He was surprised when she flung her arms around him and started sobbing.

"Hey, hey! What's up? Come on!" He said, hugging her.

"Imnevergonnafindaman!" She wailed. "Noonewantstoloveme."

"Oh come on, Ginny, I'm sure you'll find someone!" He soothed.

This just made her wail even harder.

"OhHarryImsorry!" She sniffed, pulling away, somehow regaining some of her senses.

"It's ok." He smiled.

"Oh, you're too nice sometimes." She said, her eyes twinkling.

"I just don't like to see my friends upset." He looked at her. Normally he'd be a little uncomfortable being so close to her, but he'd had a few beers, so he couldn't see anything wrong.

"So how was the hen-night goi..." Harry started, but before he could finish, Ginny had leapt on him, pressing her lips to his. He was too startled to move for a few seconds, but sense soon came to him as he pushed her roughly off him.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" He yelled.

"Oh come off it, Harry!" She said violently, leaning in again. Harry leapt to his feet.

"Oh come on! All those signals, It's so obvious!" Ginny slurred.

"There were no signals!" Harry shouted.

"Well...I could sense it." Ginny smiled, putting her tongue between her teeth playfully.

"You could sense nothing, get out of my house!" He yelled, grabbing her arm to pull her off the couch.

"Oh fine, touchy!" Ginny spat, before marching to the door, although not in as straight a line as she thought. She fumbled with the door handle and slammed the door shut behind her.

Harry stared in disbelief at the door where she had just left. What had just happened? He fell onto the couch and put his head in his hands. He had just kissed Ginny...No, Ginny kissed me. Oh god, what the hell have I done? NO, theres nothing wrong, she was just a bit drunk and kissed me, I shoved her away and kicked her out...oh god.

He sighed again. His first thougt would normally be to call Ron and moan about what an idiot he'd been...but he couldn't...this was his sister. His heart sank at the image of Hermione's face if she found out. He loved Hermione so much, he loved her more than life itself....and he goes and nearly ruins it...nice one, Harry! He thought. The only good thing you've got going in your life and you go and kiss someone else like you don't appreciate her. He stood up and walked towards his room, kicking the wall on his way in for good measure.

This didn't help much, as the room still smelled faintly of her perfume from when she had gotten ready earlier that evening...the clothes she had been wearing that afternoon were folded neatly ontop of the laundry basket...he still didn't know why she did that...usually at night, when she changed, she'd fold her clothes and just lie them ontop of the laundry basket...that was unless her clothes were trailed on the floor, along with his...leading to the bed.

He quickly got undressed, putting his clothes and Hermiones into the laundry basket and climbed into bed. The pillows smelled of her hair, as if to push his guilt by leaving little reminders of her everywhere. She'd only been living with him about a week, but then again, she'd always been a part of his house, as they were rarely apart before the move. It took him a long time to sleep, and when he did, it was a restless sleep, with odd dreams of the faces of his friends, and Hermione...all disappointed in him...Hermione was crying...it was horrible. He woke up at around 2am and sat up in bed, head in his hands. You really don't realise how lucky you are to have something until you jeopardise it.