Author's Note: I know, I know, I am the worst updater ever. I, however, do have one tiny excuse. Finals, they suck... a lot. Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter. We finally get interaction between Harry and Ginny, and I must say, I thought this was going to turn out a lot worse than it did, so, I'm glad. Also, to those who notice of even care, I went back and did a little overhaul in my headings and such to make it seem a little more visually pleasing. The chapters, however, have not been changed in anyway so don't worry about having to go back and reread. So, anyway, read on!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the rightful owner of all the Harry Potter charaters, settings, and major plot lines. Anything you recognize belongs to her, anything else is of my own mind. Please ask before archiving.

If You Love Something, Set It Free

Chapter Three: Dishes and Confrontations

Soap tickled Harry's hands as he gently brushed scraps of food off of the simple white dishes. He felt the sharp sting of silence in his ears and in his heart. The simple task of washing dishes seemed to take hours and all that could be heard was the sound of ceramic hitting ceramic as Ginny stacked the plates into their rightful shelves. Harry finally opened his mouth for the fifth time, trying will himself to say something, anything would have been better, but for the fifth time, no words left his lips. Ginny didn't even look at him, her eyes panned down, hair covering them as though to shield her from having to look at him. It was that fact that probably hurt him the most. Couldn't she look at him, couldn't they at least talk? Had he hurt her that bad? He couldn't even bear thinking about it.

Harry's hands had started to feel of grapes left in the sun by the time the dishes were done. Ginny turned on heel to leave, obviously trying to flee from the room as soon as possible.

"Wait!" Harry called after her, grabbing a dishcloth to dry his hand. Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, but didn't turn back around to look at him. Harry noticed her fists curl into tiny balls at her sides, and swallowed hard.

"Ginny," he said gently, "turn around…please" There was a silence between them when all that could be heard was the laughter from two rooms over, it was clear that the rest of the Weasley clan were enjoying themselves. Ginny didn't turn around, she didn't moved forward or back, she didn't even move a muscle except for the ones in her shoulders, which Harry saw tense beneath her shirt. He could here her breathing, the deep and soothing in and out of her breath... he remembered the feeling of it on his cheek… the feel of it on her lips… soft, warm and inviting. He shook the feeling.

"Why?" she suddenly responded, clear that she was trying to sound angry but failing miserably. Harry took a few steps towards her

"Ginny… please." He said again, pleading now entering his voice. He took another few steps, his arm slowly reaching for her, as if unsure if it were okay to touch her. Ginny didn't respond. Harry didn't think she would. His fingertips were inches from her shoulder, but he couldn't seem to will them any closer. Then he heard Ginny begin to cry.

It was quiet, gently almost. She wasn't whimpering, or bawling, but he could still hear her sobs. He could hear her sobs halfway across the world. He could feel them, every single one piercing him like knives through flesh. The distance between his fingers and her, the distance that seemed so hard to fill just seconds before, disappeared. He gripped her shoulder and quickly swung her around. She didn't resist, but stood slumped, as though her body had become a burden. Her head hung down, arms limp at her sides and her nose sniffling quietly as she desperately tried to gain control. Harry placed his index finger and thumb under her chin and gently lifted her head so he could see her face. Her eyes remained glued to the floor for as long as possible, until she could do nothing but stare into his eyes.

As soon as brown met green, Harry saw her forehead crinkle together and her eyes start to water. Without hesitation, without even thinking about it, her clutched her to hid chest, holding onto her for dear life.

"Ginny… please… don't cry…" he could hear her trying to stifle her sobs as she gently tried to push him away with palms against his chest. She shook her head.

"Harry, let me go…" Her voice was weak, not far away from cracking. Harry's heart dropped down to his feet.

"Ginny…" He whispered, trying to soothe her as he gently ran his hand over her silky hair, "tell me what's wrong." He was hoping for her to finally tell him, he was hoping that they could finally talk about something, anything. He did not expect the words that followed.

"You have got to be kidding me." She said, using the moment of Harry's temporary shock to push herself away. "Harry, I have been worried sick! Ever since Dumbledore's funeral, I can think of nothing but you and Ron and Hermione and death and war and Voldemort! I'm afraid that the next time I see you, it'll be crying over your dead body! I don't want t lose you, I don't want to lose anyone, I'm worried, I'm scared! And I feel alone." She paused, looking strait into Harry's emerald green eyes. Harry couldn't look away.

"Harry, I want to help you. I want to be side by side with you, this doesn't have to just be your fight. We can help you, I can help you. I want to help you. I remember what I said, that day when we buried Dumbledore. I said I understood… well Harry, I thought about it and I realized that no, I don't understand. Harry, help me understand. Why can't I fight side by side with you?" The thoughts and emotions that went through Harry's heart and mind almost overwhelmed him. He stood gapping at her for a moment, before he finally blurted out the only words that seemed to make sense at the time.

"I don't want you to get hurt…" Ginny made a noise that only one who is unbelievably exasperated can make. She took a small step forward and took his hands in her own never breaking the contact that their eyes were making.

"Harry, you've got to realize something. Whether or not I'm with you, whether or not I'm here or there, I will get hurt. Something will happen to me, to all of us. It's inevitable. This is a war, and while I am not completely unafraid, I am not naïve. This war has the potential of destroying us, all of us. Every single witch and wizard we have every known. I want to protect my family, I want to fight with you, I don't want to be a damsel in distress who can do nothing but sit by her window waiting… I just wanna… I just want to help protect everything I believe in… I want to be with you." Harry couldn't speak, he was overwhelmed.

"Ginny..." he started, trying calculate what to say. She stopped him, placing her fingers against his lips.

"Don't say anything" She told him, "not right now. Harry, you said you cared about me, you said you cared about me so much you were afraid that Voldemort would take advantage of it. That's how I feel about you. I care about you so much that sometimes… sometimes, it scares me. Harry, if you care about me, you won't let me rot here alone, waiting for you to return, worrying, crying. Just give me a chance, one chance…" And with those final words, Ginny gently stroked his cheek, lightly pressed her lips to his, and left him standing there, in the Weasley kitchen.

Author's Note: Well, there it was, chapter three. Now, I'm not going to make any promises as to when the next chapter will be up because, as most of my readers will tell you, I am notoriously unrealiable, but I will try, try, try to get it up as soon as possible. Reviews can of coarse, presuade me to try harder. ;PAlso, little request, find something that I can improve on in my writing and tell me about it. My goal from writing fanfiction and originals is not only to have fun and be creative, but to improve. Be kind though, flames will NOT be tolerated.