At some point in one's life they often find they must take the plunge. Not a plunge, everyone takes many plunges, but a plunge into a pool of icy cold water that stings the skin and makes one wish that they hadn't taken the plunge at all but instead had taken the time to build a bridge or invent some kind of water-heating device. Some of the greatest plunges wouldn't be so without the vast expanse of icy cold water, then of course there are the plunges that one knows they must take, for the good of mankind. That was why Ginny Weasley was sitting outside a studio apartment in central London on a park bench early on a Sunday morning, building up the courage to take a plunge that she knew would bring her into contact with someone she had spent much of the past two years avoiding wherever possible.

Gathering all of her confidence she got up from the bench, pushed open the wrought iron gate, tripped over a step she hadn't seen and fell over. Attempt one- failure. She sat herself back on the bench and found there was a large gash in her knee, checked that no one was around and then healed it with a quick flick of her wand. Attempt two proved to be just as unsuccessful as attempt one, she was careful not to trip up the step but she encountered a very large crack in the pavement that happened to the be exact fit for the heel of her shoe which promptly snapped off and became wedged in between two paving slabs. Sighing, she repaired her broken heel. She made sure that attempt three was a success, well as much of a success as one can make out of walking up a garden path. Reaching the door she found it open, her luck was changing. She was counting on the element of surprise and did not want to have to be buzzed into the building After all, it was a lot less surprising if someone turned up at your front door after you had let them into the foyer.

She climbed the stairs very slowly and tried to calm the stampede that was running around her stomach. Deep breaths seemed to do the trick and five minutes later she found that she had run out of stairs and was standing outside a white oak door complete with a gold knocker in the shape of a lion. More deep breathing was needed at the this point, she was coming close to leaping back down the stairs and apparating home again. A stark realisation hit her just as she began to turn around- she was being incredibly silly. It was one simple task and she knew it had to be done. It was not fair to deny her brother of a stag night if Hermione was having a hen night. So it was necessary to turn around again, knock on the door and inform his best man of the new plans for the eve of the wedding and that was exactly what she did.

The door swung open. A blonde girl wearing nothing but a man's blue shirt, which thankfully was very big on her, greeted Ginny with a smile that plainly said: I know who you are, what in the name of Dumbledore's broomstick are you doing here? Ginny responded with a smile that clearly stated: Be nice to me or I'll hex you into the next century, you slut. Before either of the girls could speak, well at least before either of them had thought of anything nice to say, a voice called out lazily from a room at the back of the apartment.

"Jas, who is it and what do they want?"

"It's Ginny, I'm assuming she wants to see you." The blonde said coldly, the smile still fixed on her face.

"You what?" The disembodied voice called out again.

"Darling, come to the door and greet her, she'll be thinking you're awfully rude." The blonde's tone was sickly sweet and it couldn't have been more obvious that Ginny was incredibly unwelcome. "He won't be a minute, he's just putting some clothes on I expect." She remarked, her voice unchanging, leaving Ginny to mentally uncover the hidden meaning in that statement. Ginny wasn't stupid and recognised straight away that this girl must see her as a threat, otherwise why would she mention that he needed to put his clothes back on after a night of having them off?

A pair of blue fluffy slippers appeared, attached to feet of course, which was attached to a body wearing nothing but boxers and a white t shirt, this in turn was attached to a very good looking head, not spoiled, but rather enhanced by the lighting shaped scar above the eyebrows. Ginny looked Harry up and down and instantly the stampede in her stomach raged again. She took a bold step into the hallway and said

"Don't worry, I won't stay long." Although from the look on Harry's face she wasn't welcome to stay at all, if she was going to intrude the length of time was irrelevant. Their eyes locked together, neither wanting to break the gaze first.

"I've just come to talk to you about wedding plans." Ginny announced, still staring straight into Harry's stunning green eyes. The eyes that used to make her go weak at the knees. Now she was imagining gouging them out with a nice blunt instrument.

"Go get back into bed, I'll join you when I'm done." Harry said, kissing the blonde on the forehead and then watching her trip down the corridor.

"Oh was that really necessary?" The response was cold and sharp.

"Why, jealous?" Harry teased, although the bitter undertone couldn't have been more obvious.

"Look, I just wanted to let you know that I'm throwing Herms a hen party, I didn't want Ron to miss out on a stag do so I thought I should let you know. Although obviously if you're too busy…" She tailed off, gazing pointedly down the corridor before raising an eyebrow and looking straight back at Harry.

"Hermione's letting you throw a hen night?!" Harry scoffed. "I'm surprised, I thought she was too stiff to have any kind of fun at all." His tone was provocative expression changed from a scowl to an unmistakeable smirk. Ginny's cheeks flared scarlet, a sure sign that she was about to rip someone's head off.

"Just because you've decided that having fun means getting smashed and sleeping with whoever will crawl into bed with you doesn't mean everyone else has to live in the same sordid way." She fumed, her hand closing in around the wand in her pocket; it had just occurred to her that it was, in fact, a very blunt instrument.

"Oh chill out Gin, I'm only having a laugh, I'm still young after all! I didn't exactly have a childhood remember."

"Oh sod off with your excuses, everyone thinks the way you're acting now is completely ridiculous. Good old Harry Potter, enjoying his life at last? It's pathetic. Grow up like the rest of us did."

"I think you'll find who I spend my time with is no business of yours, any more." He responded, deliberately choosing words he knew would anger and frustrate.

"And I'm really glad it isn't!" she snapped, her voice cracking slightly as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. "just make sure Ron gets to the wedding on time and in one piece!" She finished, turning away and stepping out of the hallway. She heard a laugh and then felt the door slam shut behind her.

Composing herself, she stepped slowly down the stairs once more. The plunge had been taken and she'd come out of the pool soaked and with pneumonia, she'd stayed under far too long than was healthy. The last step took her by surprise, for she was imagining all of the body parts that would be fun to remove from Harry using a blunt saw. She fell, well it more of a hurtle really, straight into the arms of a young man who was kind enough to catch her.

"Well, well, I've gone and caught myself a Weasel" the man said, though the words were malicious, the tone was light hearted and friendly. She looked up into the eyes of her saviour, if you could call catching someone who'd fallen off of one step a saviour.

"Malfoy!" She exclaimed, immediately embracing him as though he were an old friend. She glanced back up the stairs towards Harry's flat with a sudden feeling of sadness; things had certainly changed since the downfall of Voldemort.