Ron ordered a bottle of ale that he had never tried before and Harry's ordinary pint of lager. He carried them tentatively back to the table, careful not to spill any liquid on somebody who might react in a violent manner. Today they were in a pub that looked a little bit rougher than what they were used to.

'Thanks Ron,' said Harry appreciatively, sipping his drink. 'That tastes so good.'

Ron scrutinised his friend, making Harry feel a little uncomfortable. 'Where does all this beer go on you? I have to work so hard to keep the beer belly off. You do nothing all day, and yet you are as skinny as the day you walked into my mother's house.'

'I run. I'm not skinny anyway, I'm athletically slim.' Said Harry defensively.

'Athletically slim…' Ron murmured unfavourable comparisons under his breath. 'What on earth is that supposed to mean?'

Harry leaned over the table a little bit and whispered conspiratorially. 'I have muscles.' He sat back into his chair.

Ron knew that Harry cared very much about sculpting his body. It was about all he could do to prepare for being an auror whilst he waited for the new term. Harry cared so much that teasing him about it was far too easy.

'Well watch out muscle man, because there are people training with me who could break you in half.'

'I don't doubt it, but there are small children that I could break in half.' Harry sniggered at his comment.

'You're sick Potter!'

'And proud.'

Ron tried his new ale…it was really very nice. Much better than any lager Harry drank, which undoubtedly tasted a little bit like a mix of water and urine all fizzed up. Lager didn't agree with Ron anyway, gave him wind. Seemed to suit Harry though…who avoided the dreaded beer belly…

'On a more cheerful subject, did you hear the news about Bill and Fleur?' Ron asked.

'Yeah, congratulations. You're going to be an uncle.' Harry lifted his glass in a salute to Ron. 'To your niece or nephew, who is undoubtedly going to be ridiculously good looking.'

'Don't I just know it.'

'When did you find out?'

Ron considered his answer. 'According to Mum, Bill found out on Saturday. She found out Sunday morning, and after she'd had a bit of a cry…. you know Mum…she got in touch with all of us in age order by owl. So, I guess it must have been about Sunday night.'

'Why did it take so long?'

'Mum made sure to use only one owl, and to make sure that she got a properly appreciative reply.' Ron raised his eyebrows at the very thought of his mother's eccentricity.

'Where's Charlie then? He can't have gone back to Romania…right? Not if your Mum can get back to you so quickly.'

'Somewhere, doing something. I think that he's job-hunting, and failing that he said something about starting a breeding company with Hagrid at Christmas didn't he?'

Harry nearly spat out his beer. 'That was a joke wasn't it?' Ron shrugged his shoulders, and Harry shuddered.

'Any thoughts on baby names yet?' Harry asked. He loved the thought of a new baby. He'd never spent much time with children, so he would be paying a lot of attention to this one.

'Bill's the oldest, so he's got to carry on the family names of Bilius and Arthur at some stage. If it's a girl…Bilerina? Arthurina?'

'Fleur's French remember. Bilerina would be more like' Harry put on his best fake French accent, 'Bilerrineur. You know, get the vomity glottal noise right.' Ron snorted.

'What about you though, you've been talking to Remus a lot recently. What's he been up to?' Ron asked.

'The unofficial engagement to Tonks involves unofficial wedding plans too.'

'What?' said Ron in loud exasperation, causing a few shaven-headed large men to turn their way. Ron lowered his voice a bit.

'I know. I have told Remus that he might as well just get officially engaged, but he freaked out a bit at the suggestion. So, I'm just playing along. Looking around, that kind of thing.'

'I think Remus just wants the world's shortest engagement. He can announce his intentions, get the wedding organised, and actually get hitched in about a fortnight.' Harry nodded, agreeing. 'He's crazy. When I get engaged, it's going to be for a long time.'

'What does Hermione think about that?'

Ron didn't even blush. 'She doesn't know that yet. It's my secret trick for when she starts all desperate to get married, we can get engaged without any thought for the actual commitment.'

'But what's so bad about getting married? I'd like a short engagement.' Harry said very matter-of-factly.

'Only the single man can be so sure of that. It's just…I don't know. It's so final – so adult. I don't want to be that grown up any time soon. Marriage means kids. Could you imagine my kids with Hermione? They'd be kind of ginger bookworms. Yuk!'

'You'll love them.'

'Yeah I will. When little Ron junior looks at me and says – 'Daddy, I don't want a broomstick for Christmas, I want 'Hogwarts – A History'' I'll say to him, 'Son, have whatever makes you happy.' Ron crossed his arms and grinned at the little fantasy.

'Sounds to me like you've become mature.' Harry said wisely. 'Next step – wedding bells.' Ron grimaced.

'Have you broken up with your girlfriend?' Ron asked.

'I don't have a girlfriend Ron. What are you talking about?'

'I meant the guitar. Usually when we meet up it's about all you talk about, I thought that the worst had happened.'

Harry smiled. 'She's very well. I've got pretty good actually, my teacher says that I'm getting better much more quickly than she could ever have anticipated.'

'I think that she fancies you.'

'I think that she's married, fifty-seven, and ugly.'

Ron paused. 'How do you find your teachers?'

'She's called Alison Aaronson. I just looked up guitar teachers in the Yellow Pages and she was first.' Harry shrugged. 'She's pretty good; I nearly need someone else to start teaching me. I think that I've exhausted my patience with classical guitar.'

'No Harry,' said Ron, knowing what was coming next. 'Don't be one of those geeky men who gets into electric guitars.' Cogs started whirring in Ron's head, 'is that why your hair is that rank mess nowadays? Are you trying to be a rock-star?' Ron roared with laughter as Harry sat watching him silently.

'I just had a haircut.' Said Harry, as a lame kind of defence. It was true - his hair was shorter. It now reached halfway up his neck, whereas before it had started to trail on his collar. Most of the jokes he received from many Weasleys were about the front of his hair, as it trailed very messily into his eyes, and a little bit over his ears. The finale of the piece was the trademark Potter hair gene that caused hair to stick up at random in seemingly improbable ways. Harry thought that overall it looked quite fashionable. Muggles might have agreed. Wizards quite simply didn't.

'Should I get you a bandana for your birthday?' Ron said taking a break from laughing, just before he started again. Harry was getting bored with just watching his friend having a lovely time.

'Is Hermione getting promoted yet?' Harry said, trying to distract Ron.

'Hmm?' Ron said, as he wiped tears from his eyes. Harry repeated his question. 'Oh, yeah, she might be. Obviously I can't talk about it much – partly because I don't know anything – but she said something about a promotion.'

Hermione had been working for the Department of Mysteries since October. Nobody knew what she did really, but it had to be something where raw intelligence was needed over qualifications, considering that Hermione didn't have any NEWTs and she didn't seem to be in a hurry to go back to school.

'Good.' Said Harry, as Ron's breathing returned to normal. At one stage he looked as if he was going to start giggling again, so Harry tried a different tack. 'Ginny said that she was thinking about being an auror too.'

Ron frowned. 'Did she? I hadn't heard about this. When did she tell you?'

'We've been writing to each other, and she wrote it in a letter.'

'You're writing? Ok…well…good for Ginny. So, that means that you two would be in the same year.' Harry nodded and finished his pint.

'I'll get the next round.' Harry said, and walked to the bar.

Time had done its usual trick again, and before long the Easter holidays had approached. Ginny packed up her things at Hogwarts and prepared herself for a very dull holiday at home revising. For everybody else, life could continue, as long holidays were the blessing of schools only, although Molly Weasley was planning a large Easter Sunday lunch.

Ginny got home and put her bags in her bedroom. She cleared her desk by dumping the piles of things that were on it before in neat piles in the corner. Revision notes were piled up in the order in which they were going to come up in the examinations. She sat down, looked at them, and sighed. She lifted up the first page.

'Notes on Advanced Transfiguration.

Chapter One. Why Advanced Transfiguration is called 'Advanced'.'

Notes from sixth year. Horrid, she'd forgotten everything. So she read them, slowly at first, getting distracted as she read by things in her room that had never seemed so interesting before. Her personal best was spending ten minutes daydreaming whilst staring at her coat that was hanging on the back of her door, only interrupted by her mother walking in with a cup of tea.

'Working hard?' Molly said, making Ginny's insides squirm guiltily as she nodded, not quite ready to lie to her mother. 'Well, drink this. It will make all this work seem a little bit easier.'

'I'm bored Mum.' Moaned Ginny.

Molly clicked her tongue. 'Ooh, but all of this advanced magic isn't boring. I'm sure that it's really very interesting…'

'It was interesting the first time. But I've done it all before, and now I'm reading these notes for the third and fourth times in my life.'

'I hope that you do know them as well as you think you do, because then the exams will be a doddle. Good luck darling,' Molly said as she closed the door behind her. Ginny's head sank onto her desk.

Ginny's head stayed stuck on her desk seemingly for about three days before she got a letter from Harry.

'Dear Ginny,

I hope that I'm not disturbing you too much from your revision. Then again, from experience of OWLs and all that, I know that disturbance is welcome. Just wondered if you would like to come to London and see my house? You know how to apparate don't you, so I don't need to stick in a new floo fireplace or something…

Get back to me as soon as possible, so that I can seem busy.

With Love,

Harry'

Short, and to the point. Ginny scribbled a reply…but thought that it just wasn't worth it. Instead she ran downstairs, told her mum that she was going to Harry's, and apparated to London.

Harry was practising on his acoustic guitar when the doorbell rang. Puzzled (because his house was still concealed), Harry picked up his wand and looked through the peephole. It was a rather distressed looking Ginny. He opened the door.

'Oh thank goodness you invited me, I was about to go insane.'

'Hello Ginny' Harry said, smiling. He was genuinely very pleased to see her, distressed or not. 'The Burrow a bit claustrophobic?' Ginny nodded. Harry motioned her into the kitchen for a drink as she talked.

'In theory, it's just my parents and me. But because Dad's at work the whole time, it's actually just me and mum. All she does is nag me about doing my revision. I can't revise if all I'm thinking about its revision, because then I get too stressed to work and my brain turns into this…thing…that just repels knowledge. I swear that I've actually forgotten things this week so far.'

Harry nodded along sympathetically. 'Well, that's why I thought that you needed a break.'

Ginny drained her glass of orange juice. 'That was good. Thank you.'

'You know, I actually squeezed that myself.'

'Do you have a juicer?' Ginny asked, using her knowledge from OWL Muggle Studies.

Harry shook his head. 'Just a lot of time, a lot of oranges, and orange-stained hands.' He held them up for her to see. They were indeed orange. Ginny grabbed one and sniffed it and started giggling.

'They smell nice though. Some women spend a fortune on things trying to smell like that.'

'Yeah…' said Harry slowly. 'Pity I'm meant to be a big bad-wizard killing man.'

'I think that the orange smelling Harry is a much better kind.' Ginny comforted. 'Anyway, why have you not just got a job or something to waste your time with?'

Harry shrugged his shoulders. 'There was nothing I wanted to do. Then I got quite attached to my free time. I've been reading, and creating a library down the hall…I've learnt my guitar, and I've drunk more beer than most people do in a lifetime.'

'Lucky liver.'

'I'm not even nineteen yet, I'm allowed to drink.'

'I'm not even nineteen, and I'm stuck in school doing exams. I can't even consider drinking yet.' Ginny wiped hair out her face in a frustrated motion.

'Once you've finished your exams, I'll take you out for a drink.' Harry said.

'Is that a promise?' Ginny asked, to which Harry nodded. 'Now - I've seen your delightful kitchen and beautiful front door…but you haven't shown me around the rest of your transformed house.'

'Of course. I'll take you on the tour.'

Ginny followed Harry all around. She was suitably impressed by all of the changes, and was able to understand the trouble it must have taken to change the house in its original state, to how it now stood. The library that Harry had spoken of was actually what used to be the smallest bedroom with a few bookcases. Ginny was sure that she could see a fair number of school textbooks, but a couple of shelves were full of volumes that she hadn't seen before.

'Does Hermione know that you've got these?' Ginny asked.

'My gosh, no! If she did, she'd be gloating for years! This is my secret room, you can't tell anybody.'

Ginny got a little bit of a warm feeling inside when she realised that Harry was trusting her with his little secret.

When he skipped over his own bedroom, it was like a silent acceptance of the strangeness of her being in his house. She was, after all, his ex-girlfriend, and they hadn't really spoken about their relationship. They were alone in his house together, with absolutely no chance of being disturbed. What were they doing? That was the question that Ginny chose to ask when they reached the sitting room where Harry had been practising before Ginny disturbed him.

'What are we doing?' Harry repeated to her, as he fell into a sofa. 'I don't know.'

'Nor do I.'

'Well, I'm pleased that we're as confused as each other.'

'But really I thought that you would know more than me, because I never really wanted to split up with you in the first place.' Ginny reasoned.

'I agree. I should know. It's not as if I doubt my feelings about you…'

'So what are they?'

'Oh, I still like you very much. That doesn't quite cover it…Gin, I'm still single living here because I can't get over you. I don't want to get over you. I love…liking you. I enjoy it.'

Not bad, thought Ginny. 'I'm still single too.' She told him. 'I have been since you dumped me.'

'I didn't dump you! I broke up with you gently so you wouldn't get killed.'

Ginny tried to prod Harry's train of thought onto her tracks. 'But now Voldemort is dead because you killed him.'

'So nobody would want to kill you.' Harry said, 'so it would be perfectly safe to get back together.'

Ginny nodded. 'That sounds like the kind of thing that I wanted to hear.'

'Would you like to get back…'

At which point the doorbell rang again. Harry made his excuses and went to answer it, cursing whoever was there.

'Harry!' said the figure at the door.

'Dean.' Harry said much less enthusiastically than Dean would have wanted…but no less than he expected. They hadn't seen each other since Dean came over for a cup of coffee. 'Why are you here?'

'I have something to show you. Can I come in? Thanks.' He barged through the door into the hall. He looked up admiringly. 'I meant what I said last time. This place really is tastefully done.'

'What do you have to show me?' Harry asked impatiently. He wanted to get back to Ginny.

Dean's eyes lit up as we put his hand into his coat. 'This…' he said, and drew out a magazine.

'Witch Weekly?' Harry said, unimpressed.

'Yes…but not just any Witch Weekly. The edition where you feature.'

'Me?' Harry said weakly, reaching out for the magazine Dean offered him. Sure enough, there was a small mention on the front page of a little exclusive into Harry Potter's new home. Harry flipped to it immediately, not really interested in slimming spells or a long article into defensive spells every witch should know to ward off men. It was concise, well written, and accurate.

'Wow.' Said Harry, 'this actually isn't too bad. Thanks.'

Dean smiled. He was gaining Harry's confidence. 'You're welcome. Keep the magazine as a souvenir of the day when the press became your friend.'

'Well, we all hope for a rosy future.' Harry said, remaining despite Dean's best wishes, a little sceptical. But then, perhaps he was realising that having an old friend working for a magazine wasn't such a terrible thing.

'Harry are you finished…Dean.' Ginny walked in on Harry's musings and saw him still standing in the hall with Dean Thomas. 'Gosh…I haven't seen you for a while.'

'Hello Ginny. It has been a long time, I see that you're looking healthy.'

'Thanks…'

Harry was bursting to say just how awkward the situation was, but restrained himself on the basis that it would be a really stupid thing to say. 'Ginny's here having a look at the house.' Is what he settled for instead.

'Well you can compare your findings with the article I wrote about it in Witch Weekly.'

'Yes I can' Ginny said. She was thinking that she should elaborate…but she just couldn't quite manage it. She hadn't had a real conversation with Dean since they split up…but then again they didn't speak much in the last couple of weeks of their relationship anyway.

Dean used his keen journalist's instincts to pick up on the strained atmosphere and decided that he should leave. 'Have fun with the magazine Harry, nice to see you again Ginny.' He walked towards the door and opened it himself. 'Bye then.' He closed the door.

Harry exhaled. 'I swear, he makes the most excruciating exits every time I see him.'

'His entrances aren't anything special either' Ginny assured Harry. 'But anyhow, he's gone now. Where were we?'

Harry did genuinely have to think. Ginny didn't look too happy with him, so he thought that he'd go for the direct approach – which seemed to work last time. He leaned into her and kissed her.

She looked up at him, apparently a little puzzled. 'I skipped a step.' He said, by way of explanation before she smiled and they kissed again.

Author's note

This again seems like the natural place for this chapter to end. One more to go…