Chapter 3

"Ginny! What are you doing here?" exclaimed Hermione when Ginny suddenly appeared in the middle of her sitting room. Taking in her disheveled appearance, Hermione jumped off the sofa, the book she was reading falling to the floor with a soft thump.

"Ginny, what happened? What's wrong?"

"Is Ron home?"

"No, he has the night shift this week," said Hermione. "Now are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"I think I'm going crazy, Hermione," said Ginny. She shrugged out of her coat and flopped down on the sofa, burying her head in her hands. "I saw him," she added, her voice muffled.

"Saw who? Ginny, I don't understand," said Hermione. She was becoming increasingly worried about her best friend.

"Harry."

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath and sat down heavily on the sofa next to Ginny, shaking her head. "You're not going crazy," she said. "I saw him too."

* * * * *

Harry was stunned. He knew he shouldn't have apparated in the street like that, but he didn't know what else to do. Thinking he saw Hermione earlier was one thing, knowing he saw Ginny was something completely different. And to make matters worse, it appeared that she was on some kind of romantic date with none other the Dean Thomas.

Finally reaching his flat, he darted up the stairs and unlocked the door. As expected, Paul and Anthony were there waiting for him when he opened the door.

"Harry, we need to finish our talk,"said Anthony.

Not in the mood to deal with his flatmates insistent questioning, he brushed by them and stalked back to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Not even bothering to turn on the light, he fell, face first, onto his bed. He had no idea what he was going to do. Should I even do anything, he thought. She looked happy, how could he take that from her?

Harry groaned when there was a knock on his bedroom door. He could hear Paul and Anthony whispering back and forth on the other side. He rolled out of his bed and wrenched the door open.

"Are you ok?" asked Paul, uncertainly. Normally, Harry was very mild tempered. They had very rarely ever seen him this upset about anything.

Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair, causing it to stand up at odd angles. "Yeah," he sighed. He walked past the two of them and strode out into the kitchen. Extracting a bottle of whiskey they kept in the cabinet and pouring himself a rather large glass, he turned and faced his flatmates, who had followed him wordlessly.

"Do you remember the girl I told you about?" he asked Anthony, who nodded. "I saw her tonight." He picked up his glass and tipped the amber liquid down his throat. Grimacing, he added, "She was on a date."

Paul and Anthony looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Harry poured another drink and tipped it back in much the same manner as the first. Under normal circumstances, Harry never drank. But these aren't normal circumstances, he thought bitterly. When he had chosen to leave the wizarding world, he had hoped that Ginny would be able to move on with her life. The only problem was, he never expected to see her again. He was realizing now just how stupid he was. I should have left Brittan all together, he thought. Then he wouldn't have to worry about running into anyone. But even as he thought about it, he knew he couldn't leave. Something was keeping him here.

Pouring a third drink, he moved, unsteadily, into the sitting room and stumbled to the sofa. Once again, Paul and Anthony followed him, both of them still struggling for words.

"I don't know what to do," said Harry to no one in particular. "Should I go back?"

"Is that what you want?" asked Paul causing Harry to jump. He had been so consumed in his thoughts that he had completely forgotten he was there.

"I don't know what I want anymore."

* * * * *

"What do you mean you saw him too?" asked Ginny. "When?"

"Today. I wasn't sure if it was him at first. Apparently he's working at a coffee shop in London," said Hermione. She picked her wand up off the side table and summoned a teapot and two cups from the kitchen. Ginny accepted tea but just sat with it cradled in her hands.

"What should we do?" she asked after a few moments.

"I was thinking about going back to the coffee shop tomorrow night," said Hermione.

* * * * *

Ginny paced around her small bedroom at the Burrow. She had just left Hermione's flat after the two had decided on a plan of action. It was decided that Hermione would go back to the coffee shop that she saw Harry in, wait for him to get off work, and then confront him. As much as Ginny wanted to be there, in the end she decided it would be best if Hermione go it alone. Knowing Harry, if he was going to talk to anyone, it would be Hermione. Besides, Ginny wasn't so sure if she could keep from hexing the git after what he had done to her. Since seeing Harry standing across that snowy street in London, she went from being shocked, to elated, to angry. And it was the anger that she was currently feeling, all the way to her core. Yes, it was best if Hermione did this alone.

A tap on her bedroom window pulled her from her thoughts and she pulled back her curtain to see Dean's barn owl, Raina, with a letter tied to her leg. She flung open the window and Raina soared inside, perched on her dresser and held out her leg to Ginny. She quickly untied the letter and offered the owl some water and a few owl treats.

She knew that she owed Dean an explaination after the way she ran out of the restaurant earlier that evening. But how do you explain to your fiance that you saw your ex-boyfriend, whom no one has seen for two years, standing across the street? How did she explain the feelings that she felt well up inside of her at the sight of him?

Sighing, she unfolded the letter.

Ginny,

Are you all right? You left in such a hurry tonight.

Did I say or do something wrong? One minute you were

fine and the next you were running off. I hope you know

that you can talk to me. Anyway, write me back so I

know that you are ok.

Love,

Dean

"Great," she muttered outloud to herself. She walked over to her desk, extracted a blank piece of parchment and quickly scibbled a response.

Dean,

I'm fine. I just remembered something really

important that I had to talk to Hermione about. I'm

sorry if I ruined our evening. I'll try to make it up to

you somehow.

Ginny

She hastily tied the letter to Raina's leg and watched the owl soar back out the window and into the night. She knew that Dean would know there was more to the story, she only hoped that it would buy her enough time to somewhat sort through the feelings that were overtaking her.

She closed her eyes and blew out a long breath, rubbing her temples to try to ease the headache she could feel forming. She looked up at the sound of her bedroom door opening and found her mother standing in the doorway, dressed in her night clothes.

"Ginny, are you all right? Dean came by before you got home. He looked terribly worried," said Molly.

"I just forgot about something I had to do, mum," said Ginny. She was sure her mother of all people would understand if she told her what had actually happened, but she couldn't bring herself to tell her about Harry yet. "Goodnight," she said, hoping her mother would understand that she needed some time alone. She made a grand production on yawning and crawling into bed. Molly considered her for a moment before shrugging and leaving the room. Hearing the door close, Ginny sat back up in bed, feeling restless. She scrubbed her hands across her face and ran her fingers through her hair. She wanted to laugh, cry, and shout all at the same time. He might not want to come back, she reminded herself, and when she really thought about it, she wasn't all that sure she wanted him to.

* * * * *

The entire next day at work, Harry had a difficult time concentrating on more then one thing at a time. Not only had he woken up with the hangover to beat all hangovers, but he kept running the events of the previous evening through his mind. He was so distracted that around noon, his boss had all but shoved him out the door, claiming that he needed to go home and rest. Harry, who felt completely out of sorts, agreed with no argument.

He spent the majority of the afternoon, wandering aimlessly around the streets of London. A few times, he had even slipped into a darkened side street, willing himself to find the courage to apparate to the Burrow, or at least the Leaky Cauldron. He would stand there, gripping his wand in his hand, but everytime, the reasons for leaving in the first place came rushing back to him. At the end of the day, he couldn't find it in himself to do it.

* * * * *

Hermione stood uncertainly outside of the small coffee shop she knew Harry worked at. She had changed her mind about a hundred times since apparating into a side street a few blocks down about confronting him. What if he doesn't want to talk to me? Before she could talk herself out of it again, she pushed the door open and stepped inside and out of the cold. The coffee shop itself wasn't very large, with only a few tables. The shop was virtually empty, with only two men sitting at the table closest to the front counter, and she saw no sign of Harry.

"What can I get for you?" asked the middle aged man working behind the counter, smiling at Hermione.

"Actually, I'm looking for someone. I think he might work here," said Hermione. "His name is Harry Potter."

"Oh, yes. You actually missed him. He went home early today."

"Oh," said Hermione, disappointed. "You wouldn't be able to tell me where he lives, would you? It's really important that I speak with him."

"I'm really sorry, miss," said the man, shaking his head. "I can't."

"Oh . . . well . . . thanks anyway," said Hermione. She was just about to leave when a voice from behind her made her turn.

"Excuse me. Did you say you were looking for Harry Potter?" Hermione nodded. "I just may be able to help you with that."

* * * * *

As the sky gradually turned dark, Harry made his way through the underground and back to his flat. Thankfully, upon entering, he found the flat deserted. A note left on the small kitchen table indicated that Paul and Anthony went out to grab a bite to eat. He knew he owed both of his flatmates an apology for the way he'd been acting lately. He'd been moody and liable to snap at them if they so much as looked at him the wrong way.

Grabbing a bag of crisps from the cabinet, he moved through the silent flat, finally settling on the sofa. He was just about to reach for the remote to find something mindless to watch on tv when he heard the lock click on the front door followed by Paul and Anthony's loud voices. He was just about to retire to his room, as he was not in the mood for company, when a third, very familiar voice caught him off guard and rooted him to the spot.

* * * * *

A/N: Please let me know what you think. REVIEW!!!