Author Note: This chapter was originally very different to what it is now. Very VERY different. I was kind of reflecting Ginny's character to myself, to be honest, and how I would react to her situation. (Of course, if I was kissed by someone who I like – otherwise known as Mousey – I would be ecstatic LOL) Mind you, Ginny thinks that she's over Harry. So, I came up with this version… ta da Oh yeah, I decided the original version is going to be uploaded as the next odd chapter (talks in Trelawney-ish voice all will be revealed…) Okay! Please read.

Special thanks to all the people who have reviewed! You guys are awesome!

ink-blot88: I'm so not like that! (denial) Don't you dare tell Mousey!! You have been warned…

shadowmoony: LOL you've been waiting for that, haven't you?

peter: ;D

starnat: ;) thx!

phoenixtamer150: for now, I'm sticking to Ginny's POV. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm doing this because I want to create gaps and silences that are important to the plot. And are you sure you want some heartaches… ;)

turtle: thanks. (write some constructive criticism next time, lol!)

Disclaimer: Me no want profits. Me want write story. Me use JKR characters. Me love Harry Potter.

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Monday morning came unanticipated as usual. Thank God that the weather had improved; it was hot and sunny but not hot enough to keep people inside. I actually felt like the weekend had indeed lifted my mood and kept me from thinking about other things, despite mountains of homework that I had to do and the total time that was devoted to complete the homework.

It wasn't easy, though. My mind was constantly re-focused itslef to the incident that happened the other night. I didn't know what I should think of that kiss. It was unexpected, yes.

It's not that I didn't want that… Hang on, I thought I was over that lad… What was I doing then, kissing him back! That was completely stupid and senseless. Now he's going to think that I'm a slut or cheap. What am I supposed to do now?

I was buttering my toast when I saw Hermione walking towards the table.

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hey, Gin," she replied calmly, "how's weekend? I didn't see you around."

"Oh, it was horrible!" I groaned, "Homework for every single subject, spell practice, research paper for Potions, for God's sake! I couldn't even breathe properly due to the fact that I spent the whole weekend locked up in the most secluded, private, and dustiestcorner in the library!"

She chuckled. What the hell! I don't see anything amusing about this!

"Welcome to the year of torture, Ginny," she stated, plainlyglad to see that I, like her,also took my study seriously.

"I'm glad that you don't procrastinate like what Ron often did last year."

I blinked at her, "There's absolutely no way I would take over my dear sweet brother's attitude!" I firmly decided and returned to my food solemnly.

She looked at me and sipped from her goblet, "Care to tell me what other things that may bother you?"

Geez, I wasn't expecting that! Hermione is attentive, but sometimes I just wish that she would leave me some space. I trusted her with my secrets; even stuff with Tom Riddle that she probably couldn't understand completely.

I lifted my face from my food; I decided to play it innocently.

"What do you mean by 'other things'?" I asked, hoping that I looked thoroughly confused.

"Why, Ginny!" she said in a mock concerned voice – she's learning this from Ron -, "Has that particular other thing given you a mild form of concussion?"

She looked very appalled, "I thought you were good in your self-defence department." She shook her head pityingly, "I suppose I have misjudged you."

"Okay..okay.. Just stop with the act."

I have to admit though, that she is getting good at it.

She looked taken aback. I frowned, she grinned.

"Fine. I get your point," I mumbled lazily, not wanting to reveal the incident in detail yet.

"So?" she prompted.

One thing that I dislike of her is that she is too bloody persistent at everything.

I frowned at her sentence, "What do you mean by 'so'?" I was really confused by then. Suddenly, the thought dawned on me: he must have told her.

I abruptly turnedto face her, "How much has he told you?" I demanded.

She calmly cut a bite-sized piece of her bacon, "Just what happened... and how it happened."

"That prat!" I slammed my fist on the table, she jumped.

"I didn't even understand why it happened, and here he has already trotted around telling people about it!" I stabbed my toast.

"He didn't want to tell me at first actually," she confessed.

I blinked.

"I had to force the words out of his mouth by scolding him of how little he tells anything to us these days."

I thought I saw a hint of disappointmentin hereyes, but before I could get a good look, she resumed to cutting up her hash brown.

"He was all moody and gloomy yesterday when we were doing homework in the Common Room. I thought it was something to do with all the-" she sighed, "-stuff with Voldemort, so I made him to talk."

I swallowed the food that was still not fully digested in my mouth when she mentioned the name Voldemort. I sometimes could still see a faint trace of horror in my past lingering my thoughts. I forced myself to focus back to the conversation.

I carefully asked, "He was moody? Did he regret it?"

'Coz I didn't.

"That, my friend, is not something that I'm still unsure of. You have to confront him yourself," she smiled slyly.

I gulped.

"But the bizarre thing is that Ron's reaction was not what I expected from him," she stated, frowned at her plate with deep thoughts.

She continued, "I thought he would be pleased that now there's a big possibility that you two will be together-"

I protested.

"-which is sweet. You two will make such a cute couple," she was looking at me with the expression of a mother.

I was scared.

"Stop dreaming, Hermione. We would not be a couple!"

"Yes, you would-"

"No, we wouldn't! No matter how much I wish for it, we WOULD NOT BE together!" I hissed.

"So, you do wish for it, don't you?" she was half-frowning, half-grinning.

I could feel that my whole face was burning.

"NO, I DON'T! That was a figure of speech!"

She drank what was left in her goblet, and turned to face me, "Suit yourself."

I felt a disappointment to myself and perhaps to her as well. I was kind of hoping that she would assure me that Harry liked me and emphasized that we indeed would be together; but she didn't.

She got up and told me that she had to see McGonnagal. I was left on my seat alone, feeling very miserable for reasons that I didn't know of.

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I had the feeling that Harry had been wanting to talk to me in private. He kept glancing over at me during every single friggin' meal; he would find a way to look around my way in the Common Room; and he would get me to meet his eyes. On the other hand, I had come prepared with a truckload of excuses so I could avoid talking to him. I'm proud of myself. pats myself on the back

Luckily for him – that is unlucky for me –, the opportunity came along after a particularly long and exhausting Quidditch practice on Friday night. I was looking forward to a hot, comforting shower and early night sleep; it was a Hogsmeade weekend the next day.

Being one of the two girls that are in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I am always lucky to find the girls' shower unoccupied – Liz is a prefect, she prefers to bathe in the Prefects' bathroom. Once, I managed to sneak into the Prefects' bathroom; all thanks to my extensive knowledge of sibling bullying – I retrieved the password from Percy. I fell in love as soon as I stepped into it. Unfortunately, like the dorms, the password is changed every year. I could still sneak in during the previous two years – the twins told me the password, they know too many things. I sometimes wonder how they managed to do that, actually.

Unfortunately, I hadn't had the luck to make Ron giving in yet to my persistent persuasion that is, well, not to persuasive.

Anyway that night after Quidditch practice, I burst into one of the showers in the Gryffindor Quidditch Locker Room straight away. The shower block was no Prefects' Bathroom but still exquisite nonetheless. Stepping into the room, you will face a set of elegant white sinks, which is always equipped with nice-smelling hand soap. To its left, you'll see a tall brass rack, full with white fluffy towels and bathrobes which will magically adjust itself to the wearer's body cut and sizes. There is a corridor to the right, in which situated well-kept toilets and shower blocks – unfortunately, we haven't got bathtubs down here, though.

This is perfect, I thought, stepping into one of the shower blocks with a towel in my hand. I let streams of hot water showered my body from head to toe. I was still standing with my eyes closed inside the block, fifteen minutes later, silently listening to the boys' conversation that had gradually died away. At this rate, I'm sure going to spoil my plan for catching up on my beauty sleep.

I leaned against the cold bare wall of the shower block, showering hot water to my feet. The coldness of it shocked me and jerked me back to reality; it somehow resembles the shock that I got that night… That kiss was not supposed to happen, I assured myself. It was a mistake, right? I can even still remember the exact expression on his face. He was astonished.

He was, a faint voice in my head spoke, which means that he was glad to kiss you. Wasn't he?

Whether he was glad or not, it was unintentional. I supposed he is as ashamed of it as I am now. But if he was, his attitude towards me this week would seem to be irrational, wouldn't it? He was forever trying to talk to me, presumably to discuss that – that incident.

No, the voice said, he is DYING to talk to you about it.

I just simply couldn't take it anymore.

"AAAARRGGHHH!!! Shut the hell up!" I screamed in frustration as loud as I could.

I heard footsteps coming towards me, no, running towards the shower block. Oh no… Please tell me that whoever it is, he/she didn't hear me screaming randomly.

Fat chance, that voice spoke again. Damn it! Now people will think I'm a real demented, confounded freak. Wait. I AM a real demented, confounded freak.

"Ginny?" a voice rang out, "Are you okay?"

My heart stopped beating at an instant. Not him again! I heard the swing door was being pushed open.

"Get out!" I freaked out instantly. The shower doors are made from clear glass. It was blurred then, from the steam produced. I mentally thanked my glitch earlier to choose the most secluded block in the corner.

"OUCH!" he yelled out.

"Sorry!" I yelled back, not feeling sorry at all.

"Not you! It's the bloody damn door!" his voice sounded muffled.

"Oh!" I said, suddenly feeling very amused. He had tried to break into the girls' showers. It was HIS fault. I got to see what the door had done to him.

I yanked a towel of the towel rack and quickly emerged out of the shower. I searched around for my clothes before I realised that I had left it outside in my bag, together along with my wand. Crap, Ginny! I grabbed a bathrobe hastily and put it on. I opened the door.

Harry sprawled on the floor, at a distance of around five metres from the bathroom door. I moved towards him, checking him.

"What happened to you?" I asked him once I found that he was still, frankly, breathing.

"Wha – oh, me? I – I can't – oh yeah! I just finished my shower when I heard your scream. I ran here and-" he looked confused, "I didn't know exactly what happened actually. I think the door has some kind of invisible shield and repelled me."

I offered him a hand and he sat up, looking very grumbled.

"That wasn't a very nice experience," he growled, "imagine being flown all the way across the room, when all you were expecting was to get through the damned door!"

I chuckled. He frowned at me, completely unamused. Now that he was sitting up, I could look at him more clearly. And I could see clearly that his shirt was back to front. I practically laughed at him.

"What's so funny?" he asked grumpily.

I wasn't able to say anything in reply, too busy laughing at him. I pointed to his shirt, still laughing. His left eyebrow was raised in confusion, I was laughing even more at his expression, and then he looked down. Apparently, he is one of those people with a slow-working mind. After a full 7 seconds – I counted – he finally realised what I had been laughing at. He started to laugh merrily and took his shirt off to put it back on properly this time. Ooooo…

Desperately trying to erase any possible images that may enter my mind, I snorted, "Gee, you're quick."

He rolled his eyes fondly at me. What? 'Fondly'? That is just completely absurd. Back off, Ginny. You've been expecting well too much above the intended standard.

I rolled my eyes at him in reply. He stood up. I could see now that he was sitting directly on top of my bag. It was badly squashed.

Great.

I sighed.

"What's the matter?"

"You were sitting on top of my bag," I stated, pointing at my poorly disfigured bag.

"Sorry," he mumbled apologetically.

I rolled my eyes again. I put out my arm to grab my back; his hand firmly gripped on my forearm.

"Ouch!"

"Oops, sorry!" he let go of my arm.

I shrugged and was about to make my way back towards the bathroom. He grabbed my wrist before I could run away. Okay. I'm annoyed now. I shot him 'the look'. To my surprise, he wasn't intimidated in the very least. In the contrary, his eyes were the ones that intimidate me; they flamed and were full of determination. I was curious of what he was going to say.

"Listen. What happened on that – that night, it was completely unintentional. Though, I have to say that I didn't regret it."

I blinked, refusing to believe it. Told you so, said the voice in my head teasingly.

He paused for a second, "I have been trying to tell you that – that it makes me realise something else. Something that matters to me very much," he smiled slightly although his smile was solemn, "especially with all the things that have been going on."

There was a meaningful silence – one that I didn't feel the need to fill in. I was lost in his striking green eyes. He leaned in, and kissed me softly.

With that, he walked away.

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Author Note: Well, well, well?!?! Does that classify as a cliffhanger?? I'm dying to write one ever since I started. Okay, then. Tell me what you think. As usual, constructive criticisms are most welcome. THANKS!!