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A/N: As usual, you guys are nothing short of wonderful. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

When Harry arrived home, he was surprised to see Ginny, fully dressed and eating a bagel in his kitchen, while patiently reading an old issue of The Daily Prophet, as though she didn't have a care in the world. He was a little confused at her behavior but decided not to question it.

He stood before her, the kitchen counter separating them. For some reason, his encounter with Cho had been exhausting. Not literally physically of course, but mentally. She'd brought up a past that he was ready to obliterate. But this entire situation with Ginny was completely screwing with his head. He'd thought things through, but that didn't account for anything if Ginny was still undecided.

Harry had always known the answer. He'd always been in love with Ginny and the fact that she was getting married, still didn't change that. Call it stupid, call it irrational, but he wasn't about to change his feelings from something more to just friendly in a matter of 24 hours.

"Ginny?" he curiously questioned.

She instantly put the paper down and met his gaze, her expression unreadable.

"Harry."

He threw her the ghost of a smile, and then pulled up a chair next to her. He hadn't planned on what he was going to say to her. He was starting to think that maybe he should have thought of something worthwhile to say, instead of staring at her like the eighth world wonder.

"You got my note," he casually observed.

The note was back on the fridge, where he last left it.

She nodded, taking a quick glance back at the piece of paper.

"I read it. And I've done some thinking while you were gone," she vaguely informed.

He rose an eyebrow.

"You did?"

He didn't know what else to say. He had lost total control of the situation, ever since he'd decided to let his problems wash away with a sip from a bottle. He noticed that she seemed rather serene, which was odd because of the pressing matter at hand.

Ginny offered him another smile, her eyes sweeping down to the mica counter top, a lock of her falling into her eyes like a thick flame. There was something hiding behind the glimmer in her eyes and he leaned forward, wondering what the secret was.

"Yeah," she simply stated.

He pretended to be as cool and collected as she was but inwardly, he was walking on eggshells. He couldn't figure out why she displayed such a calm attitude when he was exactly the opposite. Silence hung in the air like a thick fog and Harry gulped. She knew she had total control of the situation.

"And what's the verdict?"

She leaned forward, pushing her hair behind her ears, the smile she threw him small but pure.

"It took a little insight from a friend but I've realized something. I don't know why I couldn't see it before. I love you. I've never stopped loving you," she whispered.

Her voice was so gentle that Harry thought he had been imagining it. His eyes widened, brilliant eyes of jade locking with compassionate brown, both of them daring the other to gaze away and break the spell.

They both felt it, like an electrical charge; the unexplainable feeling that though they'd grown older, the spark between them hadn't faltered or weakened. It was the unexplainable feeling that their lives were about to turn in a completely different direction due to a simple conversation in Harry's kitchen.

"Ginny…" he hesitantly trailed off.

But she quickly interrupted him.

"Harry, last night we said some things and did some things that I didn't expect at all. But I wouldn't take any of it back," she firmly finished.

His heart felt lighter and he actually let out a low chuckle. His uneasy frown transformed into a grin and he walked around the counter top and to Ginny, stopping merely a few centimeters in front of her. He could feel the pace of her breathing quicken and she timidly placed her hand on his forearm, gazing up at him, her strong confidence turning into slight anxiety.

And he couldn't help himself any longer. He pressed his lips against hers, the only conclusion he'd ever needed. He was glad to have Ginny confess her feelings for him but the majority of the time; her kisses spoke louder than her words.

Harry swore he heard fireworks go off somewhere in the back of his mind and Ginny was floating on a cloud straight to heaven. Ginny blissfully sighed into his mouth. For some strange reason, this made sense, this all made sense. They belonged together…her heart was furiously pounding and she was sure that he could feel it against his chest.

It all made sense…she was still in love with Harry. She loved him, she loves him…she loves him…But there was Dean to think about…but she was in love with Harry, not Dean…it had always been Harry, it had always been him. She could remember that night of his graduation, the night she'd spent lying in his arms, ever so careful in case that she would awake and it would all have been just a silly dream.

And she could remember the summer nights out on his broom, the wind feverishly licking her face and the way he'd quickly peer back at her with a goofy grin and she would giggle and press her cheek into the back of his neck, her body up against his and believe that they'd fly past the stars and straight until morning.

It had always been him in her dreams…always holding her heart.

"Harry," she airily whispered, her eyes closed tightly.

His lips delicately traveled down the length of her neck and back to her mouth, silently pouring out every emotion he'd bottled inside for so long. They stumbled backwards through the open bedroom door, lip to lip, hands on hips. They tumbled onto the bed, when Harry recoiled a bit, intensely peering down at her.

"Gin, what about your wedding? And Dean?" he choked out.

It was kind of an odd time to bring it up, but it had been pressing at Harry's mind. He wasn't up to playing anymore games or being in the dark about any secrets.

She placed her hands on either side of his face, gazing upward. He shivered.

"I'll take care of it."

He nodded and their lips met once more, both letting themselves get lost in the moment and swept away in the passion.

When Ron Weasley arrived home, he found Hermione sitting in the kitchen, reading Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. The incident at Starbucks had replaying in his mind over and over again, like a broken record. And the more he envisioned it, the angrier he got.

It was almost too awful to be true, that HIS best friend of more than seven years had gone and back stabbed HIS only and little sister, all for some schoolboy crush. It was preposterous, it was outrageous, and it was totally and completely uncalled for. Therefore, Hermione would know perfectly well how to handle an ordeal like this.

"Hermione! Hermione!" he frantically called, rushing over to with the agility a speeding bullet.

Ron slammed both his hands down on the table, looking absolutely furious. Hermione stifled a giggle, curious as to why her husband appeared as though he were about to knock someone's teeth out. Ever since her talk with Ginny, she'd been feeling rather relaxed, as compared to the last few days, though sympathetic towards Dean.

"Ron, aren't you supposed to be at work?" she demanded, studying his ruffled expression.

Ron nodded, peering deeply into her eyes, his face growing even redder. His hair was an utter mess, as though he'd been running his hand through it one too many times.

"Yes, but I'm on break. The thing is, you won't believe what I just saw!" he fumed.

Hermione arched an eyebrow and put her book down on the table.

"What?"

Ron's nostrils flared and he clenched his hands into tight fists. He simply oozed pure rage.

"I just saw Harry snogging Cho Chang in Starbucks! Snogging her in broad daylight, like there was no tomorrow!" he roared, standing up to his full height.

Hermione gaped, stunned by the news. It couldn't be true, could it? Why would Harry kiss Cho when he was head over heels in love with Ginny? It just didn't make any sense at all. Maybe Ron was overreacting.

It was no secret that his temper was infamous for making him to wrongly construe events and blow them out of proportion. But this was a serious matter. Why would Ron make something up like that? It was safe to say that Hermione was entirely confused.

"Ron, are you sure?" she hesitantly questioned.

Hermione, being the more sensible one, wanted to believe Ron but needed further evidence and proof.

Her husband clenched down on his jaw, flashing a strong scowl in her direction. Hermione recoiled a bit in her chair. She'd never seen Ron so infuriated, especially at Harry.

"What am I, blind or something? Look, I know what I saw and I definitely saw my best mate kissing Cho Chang!" he declared.

She bit her lip. It wouldn't hurt to tell Ginny…would it? Hermione stood up, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Look, dear, you're absolutely positive that you saw Harry and Cho kiss?" she urged, once more.

It was too strange to be true.

Ron let out an exasperated sigh and threw up his hands in defeat.

"YES! You think I would joke about something like this?" he fiercely asked.

Hermione let out an uneasy sigh, letting her arms flop to her sides. She rubbed her temples, as though having a splitting headache.

"All right. Listen, you'd better get back to work. I have…some errands to do," she wearily insisted.

"Do you think we should tell Ginny?" Ron tensely wondered, his tone less abrasive.

Hermione waved him away, knowing that if Ron said anything more to anyone, it would just turn everything upside down. No, it would be best if she confronted Ginny herself. That way, if Harry had returned home, she could question him about it as well, in a calm and civilized manner that would be far more logical than Ron's idea of his fist connecting with Harry's face.

"I'll take care of it."

"Ok," Ron replied, his anger fading away a bit.

With a quick kiss goodbye, he apparated and went back to the office. As soon as he'd vanished, Hermione let out a sigh and observed the neat apartment, wondering how things could go from good to worse in a matter of minutes.

Regretting the fact that she'd just stepped from one problem and into another, she strolled into the bedroom, retrieved her wand and put it in her back pocket. With a shake of her head and a sigh, she apparated to Harry's flat, hoping that there was a reasonable explanation for everything.

There just had to be…Right?