Heya guys! Here's the next chapter. I'm so glad to see how many people reviewed. Makes me happy. Keep it up. Enjoy.

Ginny smiled. This was going so well! Everyone seemed to like Brian. Well, everyone except Fred and George. She looked down the table to where her two brothers sat, growing immune to his charm. She took a bite of potato, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes at his joke about the Quidditch-playing hag which she had heard at least 10 times. His personality did have that effect sometimes. And he always seemed as thought he was working at being likeable. He complimented Ron once more on the great job he was doing with his team this season.

Harry snorted from across the table but only Ginny noticed. She looked over to him, he looked up, catching her eye and smiled back. They stared at each other, their gazes locked for several long seconds. Harry never has to work at people liking him. You've never in all these years grown tired of him. Not once. Said a quiet voice insider her head. Her eyes flicked down, back to her plate. The conversation lulled and Brian squeezed her knee beneath the table and leaned towards her, his mouth pressed against her ear. "Want to get a couple of drinks after this?" He whispered. She nodded, smiling. He beamed back confidently.

When they'd all finished dinner and dessert, Ginny began bringing plates into the kitchen to be washed. With a flick of his own wand, Harry followed her, drinking glasses trailing in front of him in midair. He set them down gently into the sink, admiring them. "These are beautiful, where did you get them?" He asked.

"Dad got them at a Muggle yard sale," She said, her eyes passing over them. "Do you know how Muggles make these?" She asked conversationally.

Harry shook his head.

"Well, they've got these long sticks, and these huge ovens and they put the melty glass on the end of the stick and stick it into the oven. Then they roll it around and mold it and shape it until it becomes whatever they want. And if they mess up, they just poke it back into the fire to melt it again and start over."

Harry nodded appreciatively, generally interested in what Ginny had just told him. "I can't believe I never knew that. You would think I would…growing up with Muggles and all. Where did you learn that anyway?"

"Well, one day, after Ron had gone off to school for the first time Dad took me out for the day to cheer me up. He took me to a Muggle town and there was this man, and he had a tent up around the ovens and shelves and shelves full of all the bowls and things he'd made. And he was making more right there Dad and I stopped and watched him for hours."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment supervising the plates as they quietly washed themselves in the sink. Ginny laughed. "We just had a conversation about glass, didn't we?"

Harry laughed back. "Yeah, we did. But that's what I love about us. We can talk about anything and everything."

They smiled at each other again, silent once more. Maybe we can be just friends. She thought. Friendship comes so easily to us. They both reached out to pull a fork and spoon away from each other as they fought for room beneath the faucet. Their hands brushed each other lightly as they did so. Ginny ignored tingling sensation.

Harry, however, did not. He bit his lip, trying not to turn red. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye; he saw her looking at him. Was there a chance? Maybe he could ask her out for a few drinks and he could tell her why he'd been a prat all this time and they could-

But just then MacDougal walked in. "Hey, love," He said, walking straight to her and putting his arm round her as though claiming a prize. "You all set?"

"We're just going out to get a few drinks," She said in explanation to Harry. "Yeah, I'm ready, Brian. Just let me go say good-bye to Mum and everyone." She made a movement towards Harry as though she was going to hug him but she pulled back and started to walk into the living room where everyone had gathered. As she passed, she patted him hastily on the shoulder, muttered, "Goodnight, Harry." and left.

MacDougal and Harry stood in uncomfortable silence. MacDougal opened his big smiling mouth no doubt to compliment Harry on one thing or another. But Harry never gave him the chance. "I have to go get ready for my date." He said shortly. He stepped out into the garden. He did indeed have a date that night, with a gorgeous red-headed witch he'd met last week at Studio Weasley. In Harry's determination to get some more time alone with Ginny he'd completely forgotten about Victoria. He was about as excited for this date as he was about all of his other dates, but a promise was a promise.

He checked his watch. He should have been there 15 minutes ago. But, he'd never said goodnight to any of the Weasleys. Shrugging, he made his way around the front of the house. He stepped inside to see Ron helping Hermione into her cloak. "Leaving already?" He asked.

"Yes, I've got an early day at the Ministry tomorrow." Hermione replied.

"Yes you do. Little Miss Head of the Protection of Magical Creatures Department." Ron teased, grinning.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort angrily when Ron laughed. "Just teasing, love." He said, kissing her nose. She smiled sweetly up at him and Harry mimed retching.

"Blargh. You guys are making me sick." They laughed and Harry made his way over to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. He hugged Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you, as always, for dinner." He said as she kissed his cheek.

"Anytime, dear." She said, as Harry gave Mr. Weasley a brief hug.

"Alright there, Harry, we'll see you next week." He said.

Harry nodded and made his way back over to Ron and Hermione. "Well, I'm off." He said.

"Who is it tonight? You're not still seeing that cow Anita, are you?"

"No. And she wasn't a cow," Harry said, pulling on his own cloak. "And what do you mean 'who is it tonight?'? I don't have dates that often."

"Yes you do, mate." Said Ron, laughing. You have a date every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night. And sometimes even on weekdays. And they're almost always redheads."

"You're crazy. That's not at all true. I mean…they're not always redheads. And I haven't had a date on a weeknight in months!"

"Yes, well, they're quite often redheads, who haven't got any brains. And who keep you up at all hours of the night doing Merlin knows what-" Harry opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he did on his dates but Hermione held up a hand. "No, I don't want to know," She said, clearly thinking the worst of him. "Which, I might add, isn't very good for your job!" She said sternly.

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at each other. "Yes, Mother." He said sarcastically. She looked at him reproachfully but allowed him to kiss her cheek. "Ron, it's been a pleasure, as always." He said, shaking his hand. They looked at each other and laughed. Harry gave him a brief hug. "See you all." He called, before stepping out of the house into the chilly, late-August air and Apparating out of sight.

With a pop, Harry arrived a short way from The Unicorn's Head, a Muggle pub that had become quite popular with the Wizarding community due to its name. Thankful of the Muggle clothing he was wearing, he stepped into the warm, cheerful pub.

He found Victoria, alone in a green armchair by the fire. She was wearing a short, low cut black dress that went amazingly with her soft red hair but was completely inappropriate for the setting. Her blues eyes scanned the crowd imperiously as she waited for Harry's arrival. Harry rather thought she looked as though she'd been sitting there waiting in that dress since the week before when he'd promised to come out with her.

He gave a half chuckle, half sigh and made his way over to her. "Sorry for being late," He said. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Harry darling!" She trilled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, causing him to flush, after all he hardly knew the woman.

He patted her back awkwardly. "Er…how about that drink?"

She let go and gave a tinkling laugh. "That would be just fab, Harry darling."

Harry quickly turned his back on her so she wouldn't see him rolling his eyes. Did she always have to use an endearment at the end of every sentence when speaking to him?

He got their drinks and headed back towards the fireplace where she'd been sitting. He noticed, however, that there was only one arm chair by the fire. He hesitated. Just as he was about to suggest they find someplace else to sit, Victoria jumped up, took the drinks from his hands and set them on the table. "Oh no, Harry, you can sit right here," She said, gently pushing him down into the armchair. "And I'll," She now sat gingerly on his lap and snaked her long slender arms around his neck. "Sit right here." She cooed, draping her legs over the arm of the chair. " There. Isn't that better?" She sighed contentedly.

"Er," Said Harry rather uncomfortably. "Could you pass me my drink?" He asked. He felt rather thirsty.

"Of course Harry, darling." She passed him his glass, filled halfway with a deep red wine.

He took a nervous gulp, thinking of some sort of conversation starter. But he couldn't concentrate. He'd met plenty of women who wanted him, but never one as forward as Victoria….He cleared his throat and continued staring at his glass. He smiled, reminded of Ginny. "Victoria…." He started.

She batted her eyelashes at him, her blue eyes gleaming with flirtatiousness. "Yes, Harry?"

"D'you know how they make these glasses?" He asked before he realized what he was saying.

"What?" She asked. She shifted in his lap so her face was closer to his but he ignored it.

"Glasses," He repeated impatiently. And he repeated everything Ginny had told him not a half hour before. But he had a feeling that Victoria wasn't listening to a word he said, instead she chose to stare hungrily at his lips as he spoke.

He stopped feeling annoyed that she didn't want to talk. Even if it was about something as stupid as glass making.

He stared around at all the people talking happily to one another and pouring drinks into their open, thirsty mouths. He was very aware of her eyes on his face.

Was it something I said?" She asked. Harry continued to gaze around; the pub door opened and in walked a very familiar person. Ginny stepped up to the bar to order some drinks, her beauty and fiery personality immeadiately caught the attention of most of the people in the pub, including Harry's. Which was probably why he hadn't seen MacDougal walk in right behind her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She turned around to face him and leaned up, kissing him full on the mouth.

Harry clenched his eyes shut tight and turned back to face Victoria. She was smiling at him. "No you didn't say anything wrong," He finally answered her. "I just thought we could talk."

She gave him a laugh. "Do we have to?" She asked. Again she shifted closer to him. This time, Harry noticed, anything to get his mind of Ginny and the git she was currently wrapped around. "Because I was hoping for a kiss." She added quietly.

Harry allowed himself to look back at Ginny once more. "We don't have to talk." He said, unable to take his gaze from Ginny and MacDougal. Finally, he suppressed the urge to throw Victoria off him, and steal Ginny from MacDougal's arms.

He turned back to Victoria, the beautiful witch in front of him and dove for her mouth.