Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything in it.

NOTES: Thanks for the feedback so far! I have given up on projects I've made before, but you all seem to really like this story, so I plan on finishing it! Once again reviews would be great! Thanks!

"You heard what?" Harry asked to Ron.

"We heard what you guys said about us," Ron said. "You bloody rude little-"

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley barked. "Now you be nice to Harry! You were the one who begged us for days to invite him to the World Cup!"

"No, it's okay Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "We were being quite a bit rude upstairs. We didn't think him or Ginny could hear us, so we were poking a bit of fun upstairs. Sorry, Ron. Sorry, Ginny."

"Now, you see Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said. "Harry said sorry. No reason to cry now right?" Then it hit him. Harry realized Ginny had been crying… over him. He had known that she liked him, and because of his carelessness upstairs, he had made her cry. Harry guessed that Hermione felt the same, from the look on her face.

"It's fine Mum." Ginny said, awkwardly serious. "I'm over you now, Harry. I now realize that you never liked me. I should have never been 'drooling over you'. Isn't that right, 'Colin'?" She asked Ron.

"Yep." Ron said, and then gave Harry a sour look.

"Look, we're very sorry!" Hermione said. "Are you going to accept our apology, or not?"

"Go on, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley. "Say yes."

"Whatever." He said, rolling his eyes.

"May we be excused, please," Harry asked.

"Yes you may," Mrs. Weasley said. "You may be able to learn something from Harry, now, Ron. Hear how polite he is?" Ron was biting his lip now, eyebrows narrowing. Harry could even see his fists balling up.

"Come on, Hermione." Harry said, and gestured for her to come with him. They went into their yard. "Can you make a wall appear around us? I need to talk to you, without them watching or listening."

"I think so," Hermione lifted up her wand. "Murus Apparere!" Suddenly a brick wall appeared around them.

"Okay, thanks," Harry said. "Anyways, Hermione, I've been wanting to tell you something for awhile now…"

"Yeah, Harry, what is it?" She asked.

"We've written it on paper to each other, but we haven't ever really told this to each other…"

"I love you?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I love you."

There was a flash of blinding white light, and they were suddenly in a cold, blank, white room. The only object there was a wooden desk, and a black, leather chair. Harry looked beside him, Hermione was there. She looked slightly different though. It was almost as if she was a glitch in a video game. One moment she was her, the next she looked younger, then she would look even younger than that. Not by much either, just about a year's difference, then another year the next moment.

"Hermione," Harry said, his voice cracking at moments. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione said. "But you're changing ages!"

"You are too!" Harry exclaimed. "Is anybody here?!"

Suddenly there was a black, "poof", and a man was sitting at the desk. He had an odd smile, and a shortly cut, white, goatee. He had the brightest white hair too.

"Hello, Harry Potter." He acknowledged Harry. "Hermione Granger." The same.

"Um… hello, sir." Harry said. "What did you do to us?"

"Let me explain, my name is Mallory Croaker, I work for The Ministry of Magic."

"What section?" Hermione asked.

"Department of Mysteries." Mallory said.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on, or what?" Harry asked, his voice still cracking.

"Well it wouldn't be a mystery then, would it?" He said.

"I guess not," Harry said. "But we keep changing ages, why?"

"It's destiny, Harry." Mallory explained. "It all has to do with destiny."