Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

A/N: With the fall comes school, which means updates will be less frequent. I'm already loaded with homework! It's quite sad. Anyway, thank you for all the feedback for chapter five. I enjoyed reading what everyone had to say. Here's the next installment of Hear You Me. I hope you like it.

-Gene

Dinner at the Weasley household couldn't have been any more awkward on Harry's part or embarrassing on Ginny's hand. Both Mr. and Weasley experienced a bit of uncertainty; walking on eggshells in their choice of conversation. Mrs. Weasley had the fixed notion that Harry was utterly starving and wouldn't stop heaving food onto his plate until Ginny, out of frustration, pointed out the obvious.

Mr. Weasley seemed all right, but every six seconds, would peek at Harry and study his disposition, as though the young wizard was morbidly depressed and on a "suicide watch". Harry had ended up staying the night, much to her parent's satisfaction.

He'd eventually told both Weasley's about his strenuous journey, though void of all the confessions directed towards Ginny. Mrs. Weasley had gone absolutely pale at Harry's reenactment and Mr. Weasley's usual inquisitive nature had been thwarted.

After dinner, which (surprise, surprise) was an absolute feast, Ginny had ventured outside to get some air. Or rather, do some thinking. But instead, she bumped into Harry, who was sitting in a beat-up lawn chair, gazing up at the stars. They ended up talking, which consisted mainly of her filling him in on the lives of their various friends and him patiently soaking it all up.

Of course, she'd left out her engagement to Dean.

It was about nine in the morning when Ginny barreled down stairs, still dressed in her pajamas. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she was greeted with her mother attempting to put more toast on Harry's already piled plate, who was politely protesting while engaging in a conversation that suspiciously sounded like how something called a "tellavisor" worked.

Ginny snatched a plate from the cupboard, gathered some toast, bacon and a scoop of scrambled eggs, and then situated herself in the empty seat next to Harry. She couldn't help but notice that now that he'd gotten a well-deserved rest and meal, the sparkle in his eyes had rejuvenated along with the infectious, lazy grin on his lips. He took a moment to smile at her and Ginny, shockingly enough, blushed.

Instantly, she scowled down at her scrambled eggs. What was wrong with her? He'd only smiled at her and she was turning into a little third year. This was Harry, for Pete's sake!

"Did you get enough to eat, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley anxiously wondered, doing a very good job at ignoring the five pieces of untouched toast on his plate.

Harry laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, thanks Mrs. Weasley. But I don't think I can eat anymore," Harry gratefully replied.

Mrs. Weasley sighed and smiled, then turned back to the stove, muttering something about growing boys and needing nutrients.

"So, Harry, do you have a place to stay? Because we'd be happy to let you use a room, if you need it," Mr. Weasley sincerely offered.

Harry swallowed his spoonful of scrambled eggs and shook his head.

"Thanks for the offer, Mr. Weasley, but I've already got my own apartment. In fact, it's a few minutes away from Ron's."

"All right then. But if you need anything, just say the word and we'll be there," the older wizard reminded.

Harry nodded.

"Believe me, I know."

Later that day, Ginny was hanging around Harry's flat, watching a muggle soap opera in his room. Though Harry resided in the wizarding world, he still kept muggle inventions around the house. Ginny wondered why in the world he'd insist on keeping muggle things, but Harry had explained to her that because of all the time he'd spent outside the wizarding world with the Dursleys, he was used to it. Besides, Ginny had to hand it to him; this 'television' thing was pretty cool.

How did all those muggles stay in that tiny little box for so long?

After breakfast, Harry had decided to head back to his apartment. He had sent an owl to Ron and Hermione the night before and had plans on meeting up with them that afternoon. The couple was, without a doubt, overjoyed and quite surprised to hear from Harry and insisted that he stop on by whenever he was available.

Ginny wasn't planning on accompanying him, due to the fact she had arranged to meet up with Dean. However, Harry had been persistent. Ginny had argued that Harry would want some time with his two best friends, but Harry had argued she was as much a friend to him, as he were to Ron and Hermione.

In the end, Ginny figured as long as she left in time to catch Dean, there wouldn't be a problem. Besides, it would be the first time a year that Harry, her brother, Hermione and herself had hung out.

The soap opera, entitled "General Hospital" ended with the typical overly dramatic music and Ginny began to get antsy. What was taking him so long? Her eyes gazed at her surroundings, ignoring the next program. The room, due to Harry's prolonged absence, hadn't changed at all since the last time she'd seen it.

The walls were painted ivory and barely decorated, with the exception of a poster of some band called The Rolling Stones, (which she presumed were muggles), a framed photograph of Lily and James, another framed photograph of Ron, Hermione and Harry and a blank, medium-sized corkboard hanging over his desk.

The queen-sized bed was located in the center of the room, with a nightstand on either side. Ginny noted with nostalgic happiness, that a framed picture of her and Harry, with his arm draped across her shoulder after a victorious Qudditch game, was sitting on the left nightstand.

Ginny sighed. How simply complicated things were, back then. It had been Harry's last year at Hogwarts and Ginny was absolutely sick and tired of just being friends with The Boy Who Lived. Everything seemed so complicated. She'd gone crazy; wondering when she'd get the courage to admit her feelings to him. But compared to now…it was the easiest task in the world.

Ginny tore her eyes away from the picture and studied the rest of the room.

The TV rested upon a wide bookshelf in front of the bed. A large lamp stood on the left side of the room, in the corner, opposite the desk. On the right side of the room a door was placed, which ventured off into the master bathroom.

Which he was in right now…in the shower…

As if snapped out of a daze, she quickly remembered she was in Harry's bedroom and immediately felt uncomfortable. Was this even allowed for an engaged woman?

"Oy, Harry! Are you done yet?" Ginny called.

Ginny heard the blast of the shower cease.

"Just a second!"

Ginny turned her attention back to the TV, smirking a bit.

"Are you trying to put that gel stuff in your hair again? Because trust me, it only comes out looking like a porcupine. And who really wants to look-"

The words died on her lips as the bathroom door opened and a billow of steam escaped. Ginny was absolutely awestruck. Harry frowned at her in confusion, ignoring the fact he was standing in front of Ginny in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Shetried with all her might to focus on his face, but her eyes lingered on his toned abdominal muscles. She was like a fish out of water, greedily gulping for oxygen. And just for the record, it wasn't necessarily the most attractive pose.

"Can you hand me that shirt behind you?" Harry questioned, oblivious to Ginny's involuntary bewilderment.

Ginny snapped her mouth shut, beyond embarrassed but even more humiliated to let him know this and tossed the shirt to him.

"Thanks."

Harry paused, studying her expression. Ginny was grateful towards Harry's ignorance in connection to her behavior. He was nearly as bad as Ron. And that was saying something.

"Ginny, you feeling ok?"

"Yes! I mean, yeah why?" she fumbled, her voice immediately spilling out scratchy and squeaky.

She had to play it cool. Why was she freaking out anyway? This was Harry, only Harry. What she had with him was over. She was getting married in less than a week. Just because he was relatively attractive with a good set of abs didn't mean she had to lose her cool.

Although they were a very nice set of abs…

Quickly, Ginny inwardly scolded herself. NO! Bad Ginny! Now was not the time to be thinking about ex-boyfriends and their six packs.

Harry chuckled, slinging the shirt over his shoulder.

"You looked….I don't know, really peculiar for a moment. Like you choked on something," Harry plainly informed with an amused smirk.

Ginny let out a forced laugh, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. It was like she was trapped in first year all over again, tripping on her words and blushing at every little gesture. What had happened to the calm, levelheaded (for the most part) and mature Ginny Weasley?

Harry Potter had showed up…in a towel for that matter. That's what.

"I thought I saw…er- a bug. I hate bugs, you know. Nasty little buggers."

Ginny knew Harry didn't believe her but brushed it off.

"All right, then. Well, I'm going to change. Think you can avoid any near-death situations with flesh-eating bugs until then?" Harry wondered with sarcastic concern.

Ginny rolled her eyes, going along with his teasing. She actually liked that Harry was joking around. The events of the past year had clearly dampened his spirits and Ginny only wanted the best for Harry.

"I'll try," she vowed with a coy smile.

Harry returned her smile, then headed back into the bathroom. As soon as the door clicked shut, Ginny flopped on her back, onto the bed. Frowning, her mind was going a mile a minute. Maybe it was best if she skipped hanging out with the three of them that afternoon.

It wasn't like she really needed to be there. Besides, Ron and Hermione most likely wanted to spend time with just Harry. The three were extremely close and had been the best of friends for almost all their lives. Ginny's intrusion would probably be unwanted.

Her subconscious snickered wickedly.

You just want to think of an excuse so you can avoid Harry!

Ginny sighed in frustration. Maybe she was making up excuses to avoid Harry. But his arrival and now this…it was too much to handle at once. She really did need to converse with Dean about the wedding, as well.

How in the world am I going to pull this wedding off?

Ginny sat on Dean's couch, checking over the list of expenses. Fortunately, she had been able to hastily think up an inconvenience that would prohibit her from joining the three friends. Harry had looked skeptical when she'd fibbed and said she had a hair appointment, but Hermione had taken the hint and covered for her.

The three friends had decided to hang around Ron and Hermione's for a bit, just catching up on things. Then, Hermione and Ron were going to treat Harry to lunch at one of their favorite restaurants.

Ginny's eyes flickered over the rather long list. She felt guilty that Dean would be paying for most of the cost. Dean and his family weren't exactly bathing in billions but they were very well off. And then again, he had continuously insisted.

Dean's apartment was slightly bigger than Ron and Hermione's. It was for the most part, neat and tidy. But this was due to the fact Ginny hated clutter and found herself picking up after him. It was located in the town of Cambridge, which was just a few hours away from London. The two planned to buy a house after they got married.

"Oy, Dean! Why are some of these things highlighted?" Ginny called over her shoulder. Dean appeared from the kitchen, with two glasses of butter beer in his hands.

"That stuff is everything I'll be paying for," he explained, handing Ginny a glass.

Ginny's eyes widened.

"That's nearly ¾ of the list," she noted, accepting the beverage.

Dean shrugged.

"..And your point is?" he teased, with a good-natured grin.

Ginny laughed. That was one the things she loved about him. He was so selfless when it came to her. Anything he could do for her benefit, he would gladly oblige to. He was the kind of guy that would take off his coat and let you use it as an alternate walkway, so you wouldn't have to step into a puddle. He had a quirky sense of humor as well and Ginny loved the fact he was always challenging her.

It didn't hurt that he was good looking, either. Dean was the type of guy who had the "classic" appearance. He was tall, dark and handsome with laughing eyes and full, gorgeous lips.

He didn't have to try too hard to look good, but because Dean had grown up in the muggle world, he favored trends and the fashions of that environment. This, of course, was an asset. Dean didn't like to go shopping, unless it had to do with Qudditch but nevertheless, knew how to dress.

And by golly, could that boy dress well.

He was neither arrogant nor cocky, but sometimes could be oversensitive. He had an air of quiet dignity about him. To Ginny's content, Dean didn't carry around that whole "tough guy" act, that some of guys she had dated in past possessed. Although, on occasion, he did have bit of a potty mouth.

Though Dean preferred staying at home with Ginny, he wouldn't object to a night out on the town or a good party. In a word, he was very versatile.

The two had always "clicked" and Ginny hadn't been that surprised when Dean had proposed.

"Dean, I told you before. You don't have to feel like you need to pay for everything. I can handle some of it."

Dean nodded and took the list out of hands.

"I know, you've told me about eighty times. And I've told you about eighty times that I want to pay. It's not like this is some kind of cruel and unusual torture for me, you know? I said I'll pay for most of it and I'm going to," he firmly replied, setting the piece of lined paper onto the coffee table in front of them.

Ginny frowned.

"You sure I can't change your mind? I don't feel like it's fair."

Dean rolled his eyes, though it wasn't meant to be offensive.

"Gin, it's not a problem. Honestly!"

She smiled in spite of herself and kissed him on the cheek.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" she softly informed.

She gently placed a hand on his cheek, gazing into his eyes. Sometimes, Ginny wondered why in the world Dean would want to marry her. He was practically perfect and she…well, let's just say planning a wedding wasn't the worst of her current problems.

His lips delivered one of those trademark kisses of his, that tangled up her insides, and the guilt weighed a little less.

"I think it's the opposite way around," he corrected, leaning back, grinning at her.

Ginny smiled and leaned back as well, resting her head on his shoulder. Her mother and Hermione had been right. Dean was the one. Though she had shared a past with Harry, Dean was the one for the future. Why would she want to jeopardize her stable relationship with Dean to something that was shaky?

Ginny was suddenly uneasy. Why was she talking as though she wanted to get back together with Harry?

"Harry's back, you know," she casually informed.

Dean perked up at this, hastily sitting up right.

"Really? How do you know?" he eagerly asked.

"He showed up at the Burrow yesterday. Actually, more like collapsed on the doorstep," she wryly answered.

Dean let out a low whistle.

"And to think, we all thought he was gone for good," Dean observed with amazement.

Ginny nodded.

"I know. He's been through a lot. He had amnesia, that's why it took him so long to get home."

Ginny didn't want to go into details about Harry's homecoming, because it was his business to tell the tale, not hers. Dean's eyes widened.

"Bloody hell! Poor guy. How is he?"

Ginny shrugged, not really knowing the whole truth. True, Harry had appeared fine but he always had a way of bottling his emotions. When it came to very personal experiences and thoughts, Harry was most likely to confine in Hermione or Ron, but also keep some of it to himself. If something were really bothering him, such as those awful detentions with Umbridge, Harry would try to deal with it himself before asking for help.

Maybe it was because he had grown up in a family that's lack of concern and kindness had mentally instilled the theory, "every man for himself." Or maybe it was because for the first half of his adolescence, Harry was essentially alone and was forced to be his own caretaker. Or maybe it was simply a case of stubborn pride. Whatever the matter may be, Harry wasn't the type of person to spill his soul to a stranger.

Not that Dean was a stranger, it was just that Ginny felt that it was Harry's choice to tell other people the complete story, than from a secondary source.

"He seems fine. I talked to him this morning and early this afternoon. He's still a little shaken up about the entire thing but for the most part, he's beyond glad to be home."

Dean nodded.

"I'm not surprised. Does he still live in that flat near Ron and Hermione's? I'd like to stop by sometime."

"Yeah."

"Hey, does he know about the wedding? We should invite him. I'm pretty sure he'd want an invite. I mean…it might be weird because you two you used to date but you were friends with him before it happened," Dean rationalized.

Ginny bit her lip.

"No, he doesn't know. And somehow, I think he would want to."