AN: Hi Guys! I'm home again! Yay! Did you know that the morning after a sugar rush (and by sugar rush I'm talking nonstop candy and cavities) feels like a freakin hang over? I swear, I woke up feeling like a piece of cat shit that had been stepped on by some unsuspecting person, then rubbed off on the concrete and stepped on again by her unsuspecting kids. But hey! Your Queen is nice. Now on to the story! On! ON I SAY! (would you believe me if I said I was always this hyper?)

Ginny and Harry sat at the bar of the small pub on the corner of Hogsmede. Not many people knew of this place, as it was a very quiet pub, but The Boysenberry Inn was always open, and had become Harry and Ginny's "place". Harry was talking about quidditch, though Ginny didn't join in on the one sided conversation. She was silently trying to make herself tell Harry the news that might break themselves up forever. Ginny realized that she was being a coward, and felt disgusted with herself.

"Harry I'm pergnant." She said loudly, and stared at her feet. She waited for him to yell, or to laugh as if it were a joke.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'll understand if you want to leave me, because I'm keeping them."

"Them?" He asked, and Ginny looked up at him. He was smiling. He was happy. How weird.

"Yes. I'm having twins." She murmured, suddenly aware that the bartender Madame Martha was staring wide eyed at the couple.

"Ginny... I love you. And I'll love the babies as well! How could you have doubted me?" He asked, and Ginny looked back down at the floor. "Now this behavior won't do!" And he tipped her head up and kissed her softly. Ginny pulled back and settled herself in his arms.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"For what?"

"For understanding."

Dear Ron,

How have you been lately? It feels like it's been ages since we met at Hogsmede. When can I see you again? I'm free on my weekends, and now that Slytherin has practically disowned me, I am free between classes as well. I haven't been feeling up to my usual tricks lately; I've been thinking about seeing Dumbledore about it. Do you think he can re-sort me into some other house? Any other house? I miss you Ron. Even though we've only dated eachother for a week, I feel like I've known you my entire life.

Sincerely,

Draco

Dear Draco,

As much as I'd love to say I'm perfectly fine, I am not. Nobody will talk to me. I'm not even going to attempt conversation with Harry, Hermione, or my sister. They probably think of me as a traitor. A gay traitor. Life for me is lonely in Gryffindor. I hope you are dealing with being an outcast better than I am. More than anything else, I wish I could be with you one more time, just so I could convince myself that this is real. That we are real. Anyway, I think Dumbledore would let you be re-sorted, but if you are still a slytherin, promise me you won't try to be something you're not, just to get away from those who don't care about you any more. Remember that I will always care for you no matter what.

All my Love with a capital L,

Ron

What would you do if you were Hermione when she found out that Percy loved her back? Jump around screaming with glee until you collapse? Cry with tears of joy? Or skip school and catch the knight bus to Percy's house, even though the sun is setting and a storm is coming in? The last one of course! Because that is exactly what she did.

Hermione stood in front of the small cottage smiling yet feeling a little scared, nervous, and a little cold due to the December wind. What if he had just sent the lily to make her feel better? She sat down beneath the willow tree, which was currently waving about in the rough breeze. She wanted to go back to Hogwarts, (nobody would have to know that she'd gone!) but she wanted to stay here with Percy. Hermione sighed. She was going to stay here. If she didn't, she would spend the rest of her life not knowing what could have been. And not knowing was one of her worst fears.

The 18 year old aproached the door with renewed confidence. Her finger was on the doorbell, when she stopped. Would Percy want her to knock on the door, or ring the doorbell?

She was so absorbed in her new situation, that she didn't notice a smiling face watching her from the nearby window.

Percy opened the door, right as Hermione leaned against it to further decide whether or not she should knock. She fell, and for the second time that year, Percy caught her. "Hello Hermione." he said, smiling. Hermione smiled back up at him, and Percy set her back down again. "Would you like to come in?"

Hermione nodded and stepped through the door of the cottage. Her senses were shut off at once, well, four of them anyway, because she noticed that it smelled like Percy. Like freshly mown grass and new parchment. "Mmmmmmmm."

"Did you say something?" Percy asked, and Hermione blushed. Oops. Had she said that out loud? Hermione looked up, and all she saw was Percy. He was looking at her shyly and he looked masculine and, and happy.

"You were telling the truth, weren't you?" Hermione asked. He gently tipped her head up, and kissed her. He put all of the passion for her into that kiss, and Hermione could feel it. And kissed him back. She tried to make her love fill his mouth, but found that there was too much, and she had to kiss him longer. They broke apart for breath, and Hermione smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Hermione, I've loved you since... forever. I've just never told you because I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to believe that I had feelings for someone four years younger than me. I didn't want to believe that I loved my brother's best friend. You were partly right Hermione. I did think of you that way, but you were wrong about my love for you. You were wrong."

Hermione beamed up at him, and Percy smiled back. "I've never been so happy about being wrong before." She whispered, then pulled him down for another kiss, which he returned eagerly. This one was much better then the last. More passionate, more sure.

He led her to his bedroom, wear Hermione gave up a piece of her body, and piece of her soul. It was a sacrifice she made eagerly, that is so private it will not be written here, nor talked about any further than an utmost expel of passion, love, and most importantly, realization.

AN: I love this chappie, and I love these pairings! Just wait until you read the end. I'm warning you though, the epilogue will not be what you expect.