((Ok, so you didn't make it to 30. Close enough. I do not own Harry Potter, just this plot. Thanks to all my loyal reviewers, I love you guys! Every time I read a review, I get all happy. Ok, a lot of the chapters I have already written, and am just waiting for the reviews. The chapters DO get longer! Just have to wait another two or three chapters. Alright, here's chapter four!))

The rest of the week went by extremely slowly. Hermione and Ron were having absolutely no luck with the Harry/Ginny thing.

"How 'bout this?" Harry proposed one evening while Ginny was at the hair salon getting ready for the reunion (Hogsmeade had become accustomed to copying muggle shops and restaurants). "We make our little bet a bit more… interesting."

"Let's hear it first," Ron said, looking up from his magazine.

"Ok. If you can get Ginny to go with me, I'll pay you the three hundred galleons AND I'll cook dinner for a week AND," Ron looked as if he was going to interrupt. "I'll let you use the Jacuzzi in my bathroom anytime you want for a whole month."

"You have a Jacuzzi! WHY didn't you TELL US!" Ron looked like he was going to go into hysterics at any moment.

"I present Reason A…" Harry said, referring to his best friend.

"We accept!"

"RONALD!"

"What?"

"You haven't even heard our part of the deal!" Hermione looked way past angry; she was livid.

"Oh. I retract my acceptance… for now."

"Hmm… anyways… if Ginny doesn't ask me to go with her then you not only have to clean the pool, but you have to clean it with your toothbrush. Can't throw it away afterwards either." Ron looked disgusted. "Ron, you will have to clean every toilet in the house." Ron looked even worse. "And Hermione, I am going to sign you up for cooking lessons."

"There's nothing wrong with my cooking!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Yes, yes, I know, but it has a little room for improvement."

Hermione looked at her roommate with an extremely evil eye. "Deal."

"HER-MI-OH-NEE!"

She completely ignored her spouse. "You'd better have that hot tub ready for us, Harry. There's no way we're gonna lose this."

"We'll see about that," Harry said laughing, then left to go up to his room. "Oh, by the way," he called over his shoulder. "Under absolutely no circumstances are you to tell anybody about this little… wager. Especially Ginny.

As soon as he heard the door shut, Ron rounded on his wife. "Are. You. INSANE! There is NO WAY I would be caught DEAD cleaning a bathroom! Much less a TOILET! God, woman, you better HOPE we win this!"

"You better stop calling me woman or you'll be sleeping in the bathroom. And we're not gonna lose."

"Lose what?" came a new voice from the front hall.

"Gaa! Ginny! You're home! So… early!"

"Lose what?" Ginny asked, a bit more impatiently.

"Uh… the… muggle lottery."

"Suuure." Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm going for a swim. See you later."

Harry got out of the pool the next morning, showed and breakfasted quickly.

"RON!" Harry called up the stairs. "STOP FUCKING HERMIONE AND GET YOUR LAZY ASS DOWN HERE! WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN THE NEXT TWO MINUTES!"

There was a large bang from upstairs; Ron had fallen out of the bed. Seconds later he was tripping down the stairs pulling on his shirt, his shoes on the wrong feet.

"SHIT!" He toppled down the last half of the stairs, and would've whacked his head off the bottom if Harry hadn't caught him.

"Geez! You know, we are wizards…" and with that, Harry took out his wand, mumbled something, and right away Ron looked as good as new.

"I knew that," Ron mumbled, clearly angry. "And Hermione and I were not… doing… anything. And I would appreciate it if you didn't act like Hermione was some sort of animal. I overslept is all."

Harry snorted into his coffee mug, but quickly turned it into a cough.

"Wh-wh-what's all the yelling about?" Ginny was at the top of the stairs, stifling a yawn as she came down the stairs… wearing nothing but a short little robe that barely covered her arse. She looked at her watch. "It's not even seven-thirty you retards! What'd you wake me up for!"

"Uh… Ron… late…f-fell…" Harry stammered. Ginny gave him a very strange look.

"Whatever."

Ron, taking no notice of Harry's peculiarity, shoveled three pieces of toast into his mouth and started choking on them.

"What is it with you men this morning? Actually, you were both idiots to begin with…" Ginny said, pointing her wand at Ron; his toast flew out of his mouth and hit Harry squarely in the forehead.

"You did that on purpose!"

"Prove it," the girl said mischievously. Harry was surprised. Ginny hadn't said more than two words to him since the incident at the pool. Before he could say anything, though, Ginny turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, calling ahead of her, "'Mione, your asshole of a husband almost died. I saved his life. You owe me big time!"

"Ron," Harry said. "Skip breakfast. We gotta go. Wood'll shoot us if we show up late. Again."

"But –"

"I seem to recall that the last time we were late was also because of you."

Ron shot Harry a very nasty look (one that Harry was positive Ginny and Hermione would've slapped him for) turned on his heel, and disapparated to the Quidditch Pitch.

"I must say, you all did very well today," Wood said after practice. Wood was merely the captain/back-up player/manager. He mostly acted as referee, barking orders at his team. "Except when Harry almost fell off of his broom. What was that all about, mate?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not really sure, actually. I just, um, lost my grip." But even Ron knew that wasn't what happened at all, though he wasn't positive about what did happen.

"Uh-huh, ok. Good practice, guys." Katie coughed loudly from the back. "And Katie. Ok, you're free to go."

Harry left quickly, and decided on the spot to walk home. Well, not home, that was a three-hour walk, at least. Maybe to the park nearby…

He had been flying extremely well. He watched, caught the snitch extremely quickly, let it go again, looped the field, and caught it again.

He had done it at least sixteen times now, possibly more, and Wood was continually complementing him. Harry decided to go high above the pitch and dive from there.

He had been coming back down when he caught sight of Ginny and Hermione sitting down in the stands. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered him. However, he then spotted what Ginny was wearing. Or not wearing. She had this skimpy little black shirt on, and it cut off so that one could see quite a bit of her stomach. She also had this low-rider miniskirt on and black flip-flops. Her hair was up in that clip again. (Actually, now that Harry thought about it, she hadn't worn her hair down yet… it was always in that clip or in a bun. He wasn't even sure how long her hair was anymore.)

Harry was quite surprised that Hermione had even let her leave the house.

Anyways, this little distraction had been all he needed to lose his focus.

It looked as if his broom had frozen in place, but his body kept on going. He immediately pitched headfirst over the front of the broom, just barley managing to hold on. He was dangling there, and any bystander would think he was trying to do pull-ups in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch.

The two beaters, Anthony Harrison and Cole Nicholson, had been the first to notice Harry's predicament before he could swing back on, and promptly burst out laughing.

Well, this caught everyone else's attention, and soon they were all cackling like a pack of hyenas, even after Harry managed to get back aboard his broom.

Ginny, however, looked torn between being horrified and laughing out loud.

Needless to say, Harry was extremely embarrassed. He was relieved when Wood called for practice to end fifteen minutes later.

Why did Ginny always do this to him?

((And there you go. The next chapter starts to get good, and the H/G relationship takes a turn for the better. BUT you won't get to read it unless I get 50 reviews. I don't care if they're anonymous, or if you post five times as anonymous, get to 50! Good luck.))