Morning broke through the open curtains of Ron's bedroom, stirring Harry as he lay on a stretcher on the floor. He snoozed for a while, but he couldn't fall back asleep. He blinked and sat up with a groan, running a hand through his messy hair and reaching for his glasses with a yawn. He could hear voices outside; Ginny's above the rest.

Ron was sleeping, snoring slightly with his mouth open. Harry tiptoed as he put on his jeans; they'd both had troubled sleep recently.

He walked over to the window. Outside he could see George, Ginny and Percy tossing a Quaffle between them - George flying half-heartedly, and Ginny doing somersaults around Percy.

Since the memorial, Harry had barely spoken to Ginny. After Fred's funeral, she'd told him she needed space, so he had given it to her, but now their friendship felt awkward and strained.

As he watched, Ginny blocked every single goal George tried to make, while Percy was having enough trouble just staying on his broomstick. Harry had never seen Percy fly. He laughed as the broom zipped out of Percy's grasp and dropped him on the grass. Harry glanced over at the old broomstick Ron had given him, but he wasn't sure he was ready to fly with Ginny again.

He sighed and made up his mind. He couldn't avoid her forever. He picked up the broomstick and hurried out to the garden, smiling as kicked off into the air, and raced to join the three Weasleys.

"You should have seen Harry; he was incredible!" said Ginny as she strode into the living room two hours later, her face flushed and knees dirty. "I've never seen anyone make a goal from so far away before!"

Harry couldn't help grinning as he trailed in after her. "That save you made was amazing... I don't know how you escaped that bludger."

"I wouldn't have made it if you hadn't warned me though," said Ginny.

"What about me?" Ron mumbled. He had joined the game half way through as keeper and sometimes beater.

Harry and Ginny looked at him.

"Oh yeah. You did great too, Ron," said Harry.

"Don't talk rubbish, he was terrible!" Ginny snorted. "You kept missing the Quaffle because you were too worried about looking cool," she added, making a face. Hermione, of course, had watched the game from the side-line.

Ron went red. "The teams weren't fair! You should have had Percy, and we could have had Harry..."

The two continued their argument up until lunch, and even then, they glared at each other over the dining table. Harry, however, felt elated. After winning the game of Quidditch, Ginny had given him an airborne hug, and they had laughed together. It reminded Harry of the days they spent together at Hogwarts. Maybe things could go back to how they used to be?

"Harry dear, I've left today's mail in Ron's bedroom." Mrs Weasley smiled as she served him some ham.

Harry groaned inwardly. Fan mail had been pouring in from witches and wizards all over the world. "It's only polite to write back," Mrs Weasley had said. Harry had spent most of his free time shut up in Ron's bedroom writing.

"You'd think they'd have lost interest by now," Ron muttered.

"Oh, it'll be a long time before they do. After all, people are still talking about Dumbledore and Grindlewald," said Ginny. "But I'm sure Harry's fan girl community will die down soon enough."

Harry felt his heart leap at the potential jealousy.

An hour later Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat together up in Ron's room, laughing over a particularly obsessive letter from a 'single mother of two.'

"'...If only I was 20 years younger...'" Ginny quoted, bursting into a fit of giggles. "Oh, this is going to be fun." And she began scribbling a reply with a nasty grin on her face.

Ron snorted. "Here's another marriage proposal: 19 years old. Great cook, daughter of an Oblivator" He took out another piece of parchment from the envelope. "She's included a photo, and hey, she's not half bad!" said Ron, surprised. He chucked the photo and letter at Harry. Harry glanced up at Ginny, who was still writing a reply for the 'single mother'.

"She's cute," he said pointedly. "It's a shame she's moving to France."

The scratching of Ginny's quill paused momentarily, but then without raising her head, she continued writing. A minute later, she stopped again, and Harry glanced up at her quickly.

"Harry, could you pass the bottle on the shelf?" she asked, motioning to an ink bottle.

"Thanks," she said as Harry handed it to her. Disappointment settled in his stomach like a rock.

Another hour passed, and there were still at least two dozen letters to write. Ginny stood up and stretched.

"Well I'm off to the village before it gets dark."

"It's not getting dark for hours!" exclaimed Ron.

"It's nearly an hour's walk from here. Not that you'd know. You're too lazy to walk anywhere," said Ginny on her way to the door.

"What's there anyway?" Ron yelled after her, but she was already gone.

"Ever since we got back she's been vanishing off to that stupid village, and she never tells anyone why," Ron muttered bitterly.

"No Ron, she just doesn't tell you why," said Hermione with a knowing smile.

"What do you know?" Ron demanded eagerly.

"It's a secret," said Hermione, and Harry instantly felt a need to know what that secret was, but it was too late to grab his cloak and hurry after her. Besides, he thought, casting a gloomy look towards the stack of letters, I can't expect Ron and Hermione to write replies to all these for me.

He took another letter from the pile, and dipping his quill in the ink, began to write.

Over the following week, Harry noticed with relief the amount of fan mail had begun to slowly decrease. He was still reluctant to answer them though, and even Ron was bored of laughing at them. However, this particular morning a letter caught his eye. He thought he recognized the handwriting, but he couldn't place it. He took it from the stack and opened it.

Dear Mr. Potter

I am writing to thank you. Not only did you defeat the Dark Lord, who was terrorizing the lives of my family, but you saved the life of my son. For this I will be forever grateful.

I would like for you to join us for dinner one evening in our manor. The address in enclosed. I'd also like to offer you a room for as long as you require it. Draco tells us you lived with some dreadful muggles while at Hogwarts, and that you may not wish to return to them. We would be honoured to have you come and stay with us.

Please consider it,

Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry gaped at the parchment in his hands. He hadn't given the Malfoys much thought at all; they had helped with the clean up efforts after the battle, and had stayed for the memorial, but they hadn't spoken to anyone. Harry shook his head and slipped the note into his pocket.

"She's got to be kidding!" exclaimed Ron when Harry showed him the letter later that morning. "Who in their right mind would want to stay with them? And who's this 'we'? I don't think Malfoy would be thrilled at the idea of having Harry Potter come and live with him."

"They must be up to something," Harry wondered out loud.

"Maybe you should have left Malfoy to the fire," said Ron with a snigger.

"Ron!" Hermione had just walked in and shot Ron an angry glare, before returning to Harry with a frown. "What's Malfoy done now?"

"Nothing," said Harry truthfully. He handed her the letter, and watched as she read it.

"Oh... well that's nice of her," Hermione said slowly, but uncertainly. "And sort of weird."

"Nice!" Ron looked at her incredulously. "She's a Death Eater! It's a trap."

"I don't think so," said Harry slowly.

"Oh come off it, Harry."

"It is possible they want revenge. After all..." Hermione trailed off. "You have upset their lifestyle quite a bit."

Harry remained silent.

"Don't tell me you're actually considering going?" Ron stared at him.

"Course not," said Harry quickly, but he tucked the address into the pocket of his jeans anyway.

That afternoon, Ginny announced she would be heading off to the village again. It was earlier than usual - not even three. No one but Hermione seemed to know why, and no one else seemed as interested as Harry. Hermione had made it clear she wasn't going to tell him.

Harry waited until Ron was busy helping George de-gnome the garden, before telling Mrs. Weasley he was going to take a quick flight. He wanted some fresh air, he told her.

"Wear your cloak," Mrs Weasley warned. "There's muggles around."

Ginny had been gone for nearly two hours, so Harry apparated under the cloak rather than flew.

The village was small, with only one street of shops and cafés and a little shabby hotel around the town square. There was also a run-down movie theatre and a police station. It wasn't a busy place, Harry noticed as he emerged from an alley way, cloak tucked under his shoulder, which was a relief. Apparating in the middle of the day was risky business.

Harry started by searching the main street, peering into cafes and sweet shops. He became incresingly frustrated. A red-headed muggle woman smiled at him as she left the post office with her daughter in hand, and Harry realised he'd been loitering.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked kindly. Her daughter stared at his wand in his pocket.

"Just a friend," he said. She's wished him luck, and Harry watched as her read ponytail bobbed down the street. When had he stopped seeing muggles as people? He knew he should probably be under the cloak, but it felt good to be around people who didn't see him as a celebrity.

Half an hour later, Harry sat outside an ice cream parlour with a mint ice cream, feeling defeated. He couldn't find Ginny, and he had no idea where to look. And what if he did? What would he say?

Just as he got up to throw away his cone and head back, Ginny rounded the corner of the street, hand-in-hand with a young man around Harry's age. For a moment Harry just stood there, mouth open, his worst fears confirmed.

"You've really never seen it before?" the man said. "It's really old, but it's a classic."

"I told you, we don't have a tv," said Ginny, laughing.

Her companion nudged her with his shoulder. "I have a tv," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was tall, probably near to Ron in height, with short, blond hair, a stubbled jawline and an accent Harry couldn't place.

Harry hated him.

"What are you doing tomorrow? You come come over..."

"If you buy me an icecream, I'll consider it," Ginny teased.

Jealousy writhed deep inside Harry, jealousy and - even though he couldn't place it at first - fear and a sense of loss. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was going to remain calm.

"Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes. Ginny had stopped walking and was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Hello, Ginny."

"But... what are you doing here?"

"I thought you might have liked some company," Harry lied, "but I guess I was wrong." There was a lot more venom in his voice than he had intended, but he didn't care. He glared at her. How could she do this? After all he'd been through.

Ginny's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. She let go of Robin and took a step towards Harry.

"You're spying on me," she said crossly. When he didn't reply, she turned to walk away, and Harry jumped forward and grabbed her wrist.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked weakly.

"Let go of me, Harry!"

"Why didn't you? Don't you think I deserved to know?"

Ginny struggled against his grip.

"Didn't you think for a second how much something like this might hurt me?" Harry's voice was small and pleading.

Ginny stopped struggling.

"Let go of me Harry," she said slowly.

"Ginny, please-" said Harry.

"She said let go!"

There was a blur of movement as a fist collided with the side of Harry's head. Strong hands pushed him back for extra measure, and Ginny ripped her arm away as Harry fell back.

"Robin, don't!" he heard Ginny shout. His head was spinning from the impact, and as he tried to steady himself he nearly toppled over a parlour chair. He recovered quickly and drew his wand, pointing it directly at Robin. He heard Ginny shout again, but ignored it. Muggles all down the street were staring.

Robin stared at him blankly for a moment or two, before raising an eyebrow.

"Are you crazy?" he laughed. "What's with the stick?" He looked highly amused, and Harry felt himself flush.

He was a Muggle! Harry swore inwardly. How could he have been so stupid!? He didn't lower his wand.

"Harry!" Ginny squeaked. "Please, he's a-"

"Shut up, Ginny," Harry snarled.

"Wow, Ginny, this is your old boyfriend, right? I can see why you left him." Robin shook his head and held out a hand to Ginny. "Let's go get somewhere else."

But Ginny didn't move.

"Harry..."

"Don't worry about me Ginny," Harry said coolly, letting his arm fall to his side. "Your boyfriends waiting." Harry shoved his wand back into his pocket, and turned and walked away as Ginny called out for him.

His eyes stung as he disapparated, unknowing that it would months before he ever saw Ginny again.