Hey all! Sorry it's taken so long for me to update but I'm back at uni now, in my final year, so I'm applying for all these graduate jobs, going to careers fairs and functions blah blah blah. Basically, I'm really really really busy! So without further ado, here's some of chapter 4. It's not really finished (hence the title Work In Progress) but I thought that it was better than nothing!

4. Work In Progress

Ginny was sitting down to her usual steaming cup of tea and the Daily Prophet when Harry emerged from his room.

'Morning,' she said, peering over the paper and eyeing him closely.

'Morning,' he replied a little sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck.

'Good night?' Ginny queried, replacing the paper in front of her so Harry couldn't see the mischievous grin spreading across her face. 'Where's your girlfriend?'

'She left early this morning. I don't know when. And, yes, I had a brilliant night, thank you.' He snatched the paper from out of her hands and arched a knowing eyebrow at her grinning face. 'You are so immature.'

'So are you, you whore. And you wonder why I never introduce you to any of my friends.' Ginny poked her tongue out at him and snatched the paper back, still smiling.

Harry rolled his eyes and wandered into the kitchen. A few moments later he returned with a bowl of cereal.

'So how was your evening?' Harry asked after a mouthful, giving her a suggestive wink.

'Just fine, thank you,' Ginny sniffed, turning the page.

'Only 'just fine'? You and Oliver looked more than 'just fine' when I left. How did the rest of your evening pan out?'

'We left not long after you did because Ludo was looking for me. But I didn't want to come back here for, er, obvious reasons, so we just wandered around London for a couple of hours.'

'Did you go back to his place then?'

'Harry! I'm not like that! And besides, Oliver was a perfect gentleman, unlike some people I know.'

'Hey, I take offence to that.'

'Good, you were supposed to.'

'Ha, ha.' Harry ate in silence for a few moments.

'I did have a nice time though,' Ginny conceded.

'Ah,' Harry looked up, intrigued. 'So there is hope?'

Ginny smiled slightly. 'Maybe.' Noting the look on Harry's face she added 'And yes, you told me so.'

'Yes, I did, didn't I?' He tried to suppress a smile but failed. 'So are you seeing him today?'

'I don't know, we didn't really make a date or anything. I want to see him again but then I don't want to push anything either.'

'Right.' Harry chewed thoughtfully for a moment. 'So are you going to Owl him?'

'No. I don't want to jinx anything, Harry,' Ginny whined. 'Can we please not talk about it?'

'Okay, okay. Just trying to be mature and sensitive and listen to you like Oliver would.' Ginny threw him a dirty look. 'That's my cue then. I've got to have a shower and get to training.' He stood up and headed back towards his room.

'Training? Harry, it's Sunday.'

'Yes, I'm more than aware of that. We've got to practice every chance we get if we want to have any chance of beating Puddlemere in the next decade.'

'Allright, well Hermione and Ron are coming around for lunch,' Ginny called. 'About one o'clock if you're finished training in time,' Ginny called.

Ginny heard them coming.

'Ron, you are so frustrating sometimes!'

'Thanks, you're pretty bloody annoying yourself too.'

'Why can't we have a few extra people?' Hermione protested, her voice whining at the end.

'Because a few extra people will turn into fifty. We just can't afford that!'

'Ron, this is a once in a lifetime event. Can you stop being such a tight arse?'

'Oh, that's rich, coming for the Queen of Stinginess. You scrimp on everything else, but you go absolutely crazy when it comes to the wedding.'

Ginny smirked at this comment. Ron had never said a truer word. After five years of an on-again off-again relationship, the pair had finally decided to get married … and hadn't stopped fighting since.

'Hi guys, come in,' Ginny said dryly as she opened the door, not giving them an opportunity to even knock.

Ron and Hermione stopped glaring at each other long enough to walk inside, both seemingly oblivious to the fact that they hadn't even knocked.

'Hey, Gin,' Ron said as he gave Ginny a peck on the cheek. 'Where's Harry?'

'He had to go to training. He should be home soon though.'

'Oh, Ginny. I'm so glad to see you,' Hermione cried as she bustled past. Ginny noted that her arms were full of books, magazines and cloth swatches and felt a sense of dread wash over her.

'You have to help me pick out the fabric for the chairs at the reception, and I'm having so much trouble trying to decide the table settings …' As Hermione chattered on, spreading all her wedding things over the coffee table.

Ginny shot Ron a pained look. He shrugged, powerless to stop the inevitable.

'Um, how about we have some lunch before we get down to the wedding stuff,' Ginny proffered, interrupting Hermione's babbling. 'I think it will be good for you to have a break.'

'Yeah, I guess it would,' Hermione conceded. She dropped a pastel pink square of fabric back onto the coffee table, much to the relief of Ron and Ginny.

They were just sitting down to spaghetti Bolognese (Ginny's specialty) when Harry came home … and he wasn't alone.

'Hey everyone, look who I found wandering the streets,' he said, entering the dining room, followed by (who else?) Oliver Wood.

'Oliver! Mate! How's things?' Ron said, jumping to his feet and shaking his hand. 'It's been a while.'

'Yeah, it's good to see you. And I hear congratulations are in order.'

'Yeah, well, commiserations might be the better term to use,' Ron muttered, much to the ire of Hermione who had stood up behind him.

'Ronald!' Hermione backhanded him across the head and pushed him out of the way.

'Hi Oliver,' she said, giving him a tight hug.

Ginny, meanwhile, was trying to deal with her stomach, which felt like it had somehow made it's way to her mouth as soon as Oliver had entered the room.

Harry noted the stricken look on Ginny's face with a tiny smirk. 'I'm going to have a shower,' he announced, winking subtly at Ginny before retreating to his room.

Found him on the street my arse Ginny thought. But she didn't have time to feel angry at Harry – Oliver had sat down beside her and her stomach leapt back into her mouth. Why was she so nervous? She had been fine last night. Oh God, oh God …

'Hi Gin,' he said, smiling self-consciously at her.

'Hey,' she replied, equally as self-conscious. 'Um, did you want some lunch?' She gestured to the bowl of pasta in front of her.

'Sure, it looks great. I'll help.' He stood and followed her into the kitchen, which was adjacent to the dining room.

While Ginny got a bowl out of the cupboard Oliver retrieved a fork from the cutlery draw. Neither of them spoke and Ginny racked her brain for something – anything – to say.

Oliver cleared his throat.

'Listen. Uh, about last night …'

Oh great, Ginny thought. Here it comes, the rejection. Why did Harry have to get my hopes up?

'I had a great night, a really great night … and, um, I was wondering if you'd like to do it again sometime, if you want to that is. I mean, not do the Quidditch Ball thing again coz that's not for another year, just the going out thing again … yeah.' He sounded as nervous as she felt.

Ginny felt her stomach settle back down to where it was supposed to be.

'Sure. I would like that,' she said, surprising herself at how relaxed she'd sounded. She began spooning the spaghetti and sauce into his bowl.

'Great. Excellent. That's great.' He smiled at her again as she handed him his bowl. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome,' Ginny replied, smiling back, then leading the way back into the dining room.

Hermione eyed them with an interesting look as they sat back down at the table. Ron, though, was too busy eating to pay them any attention. He did manage a 'this is great' though, before taking another mouthful.

They ate in silence for a few moments. Ginny again racked her brain for something to say. She was never usually at a loss for words. Why did Oliver have to have this effect on her? She was even contemplating asking Hermione about flower arrangements just to get some semblance of a conversation flowing, when Harry re-emerged, his hair still damp from his shower.

To be continued ...