A/N: I. Am. Soooo. Sorry. This was supposed to be up like, three weeks ago, but stuff just kept getting in the way:( So I will try to make it up to you…I hope you really like it (because I actually did work hard on it.) And, as this is the last chapter, I am beginning to write a sort of prequel. Not really a prequel, but I suppose you could look at it that way if you wanted. I'm pretty sure I'm going to call it Testosterone Boys and Harlequin Girls, but I don't know if they would delete it for that name on the grounds that it could be taken as 'inappropriate.' (Yes, I like Panic! At the Disco…okay, I LOVE Panic! At the Disco) SO leave me a review, tell me what you think of the ending, and tell me what you think of that title. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story. It's been amazing. P.S. I changed my penname, to those of you who are wondering what the hell is going on.

Lavender screams. There aren't any words, just a sort of screech of fury.

"I HATE YOU!" No…there are the words. Damn. "I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!" She trembles with fury. I take a step backwards. I can actually feel the anger radiating off of her. She's gotten like this only twice before: the time she asked me if I though Parvati was hot and I said yes, and the time I forgot our 'one month' anniversary. (yeah, because blokes totally keep track of that sort of stuff.) I know what's going to happen next, though. In three…Two…One…

The lights flicker and then die. The whole room begins to shake and the two empty firewhiskey bottles sitting on the counter (courtesy of Hermione, no doubt) topple off and smash on the cold linoleum.

I curse softly and fumble in my back pocket for my wand. It's not there. Of course it's not there, you idiot, You're wearing pajamas.

"Harry?" I don't dare ask anyone else. Merlin knows what would happen in Hermione picked up a wand in her present state, and Ginny and Lavender are both too pissed off to do much more than glare at each other without breaking something. Harry, however, seems to think the whole thing is rather amusing. (I'm sure I will too, when I look back on it later, but right now I'm just irritated.) We're obviously on the same page, though, because before I can even finish my question, he says,

"Right, hold on." A few seconds later, a wand tip flares, illuminating the flickering faces around me. Harry grins cheekily at Lavender, and I groan in anticipation of what I know is coming next (something stupid on Harry's part, I'm sure).

"So, does the power always go out when you're angry, or what?" Shut up, Harry, shut up. I'm trying to send him a message through telepathy, but so far it's not working.

"Because that could be quite hazardous to everyone else in your apartment building…Ron's apartment building, that is. " Fuck. The very last thing you should ever say to Lavender is that something of mine doesn't belong to her as well. She's under that impression, for some reason. As soon as we started dating again, she moved into my flat. Literally, I mean, as soon as we started dating. I asked her out and then the next day, there she was on my doorstep, trunks and wand in tow and looking so…eager that I didn't have the heart to tell her no. Now I wish I had. Anyway, Harry's comment gets Lavender all riled up again, but just as she's about to blow a gasket, or whatever that stupid phrase is, Ginny opens her mouth again. And this time, she scares me.

Now, before I tell you what she's actually saying, I'd like to remind you that my dear little sister has a tendency to scream when she's angry. Loudly. I think my eardrums are permanently damaged, actually, from living with her for seventeen years, then happening to be best friends with her boyfriend for another four (A/N: Someone asked me how old they were, so I am clarifying here that they are all in the general range of 21.), thus resulting in too much close proximity with said little sister. Anyway, Ginny's pretty scary when she starts screeching at you, but she's even scarier when her voice goes all quiet and deadly. The only other time I've ever seen her this way was when she was talking to Bellatrix Lestrange, who she had in the full body-bind, right before she killed her. That'll give you an idea of how mad she is.

"Lavender Malvina Brown – yes, that's right, I know your middle name, you can't leave mock-wedding invitations lying around Ron's apartment and not expect someone to find them – you get the hell out of my flat this instant, or I swear on Uncle Billius's grave, I will make you the most miserable human being alive. I will make your life worse than those of the last Death Eaters left in Azkaban. You have been doing precisely that to my best friend, and, if I'm not quite mistaken, my favourite brother, for the past year-and-a-half and I'm sick of it. Go to Ron's flat, get your stuff, then leave. I don't care if you haven't got a home, go room with Parvati for a while – I'll floo her myself if I have too, just get the fuck out of my brother's life." She says this last bit with a bit of her usual…volume, but nevertheless, it's powerful. Lavender just stands there gaping for a moment, then she shoots Ginny a look of pure contempt.

"I don't have to leave unless Won-Won tells me to," she says, clearly thinking that she's onto something here. It's as though the past half-hour (in which she found her boyfriend cheating on her, and was told that the first time it happened was all just a set-up to get her the hell away from me) never happened. "You don't want to break up with me, do you, Ron?" She asks, turning towards me and pouting severely. I want to kill her.

"Actually, Lavender, I've wanted to break up with you for a while now, " I say. As soon as it slips out of my mouth, I regret it. Not that it isn't true, or anything, but because…well, talk about letting her down harshly. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out how I wanted it to," I say. "We're just not right for each other. I mean, the truth is, well," I take a sidelong glance at Hermione, who is listening intently. "I've known who was right for me since I was eleven years old. I just tried to deny it, because it seemed so strange and impossible. But, I'm sorry. It's just, I love Hermione, and that's all there is to it." Lavender's huge, blue-violet eyes fill with tears and she pushes her long, thick mane of golden-blonde hair over her shoulder. I appreciate, one last time, how really strikingly beautiful she is, and then I let her go. For good. With a strangles sob, she pirouettes gracefully, and then, with a loud crack, she's disappeared, permanently.

I turn to Ginny.

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I rush over to her to pick her up and twirl her around, just as the lights go on. Harry clears his throat, and I roll my eyes, but set Ginny down on the cold linoleum floor.

"No problem, big brother, she grins, before yawning widely and stretching. "I'm going to bed. Harry?"

"Right," he salutes her and then begins to follow her out of the kitchen.

"Hey, Ginny?" She turns back and looks at me.

"Hmm?"

"Can I spend the night here? I mean, I don't want to go back to my flat while Lavender's still packing and all," I say. Ginny smirks at me.

"Ask Hermione. She lives here, too, y'know." And with that she is gone, Harry following in her wake. I turn to Hermione.

"Well, can I?" I ask, rather self-consciously.

"Hmm?" She's staring at me in a blurry-eyed, but deliriously happy, thoughtful way.

"Can I spend the night?" I repeat, then feel my face heat up as I watch hers do the same. "Not like that!" I rectify. "I mean, so I don't have to go back to my flat while Lavender's still there – I reckon it'll take her a couple days to fully remove herself, and I was wondering if I could crash here for a while."

Hermione grins at me, and I can see her sobering up.

"Of course you can, Ron," she smiles warmly and I am lost in that smile.

"Okay, well, I'll just go sleep on the couch then, I suppose," I say. I'm dead tired.

"Oh, no you won't," Hermione smirks, grabbing hold of my arm. She's slid off of the counter now, and is looking up at me, that last little bit of firewhiskey still affecting her – I can tell by the look in her eyes. "You're sleeping in my bed," she says determinedly. I open my mouth to protest.

"Hermione, you're still drunk – I don't want to, y'know, take advantage of you, or anything." She laughs.

"You won't be – don't look at me like that, Ron. I don't mean it like that. I just want to sleep next to you." She stands on tiptoe and kisses me gently, slowly. It's nothing like before – but it's just as good, in fact, it's better. We break apart, and I look down at her.

"I suppose I could…" It's amazing how she makes me feel drunk when I haven't even had a butterbeer all night. "But promise me we won't do…anything until you're sober. I don't want you to regret anything." She smiles.

"I wouldn't regret it. But, you're quite right, Ron. C'mon, let's go to bed."

FIN

A/N: So? What did you think? Review!