Ginny had never felt more free in her entire life than she'd felt in the last twenty four hours. Finally free of the relationship that had lasted for over five years and had threatened to last for the rest of her life, she felt liberated of almost everything in her life that she felt was holding her back.

Almost.

The only other thing she had left to separate herself from was the Order. She wasn't exactly sure how to do that yet, but she had time to figure it out. Thankfully Colin hadn't been a regular attendee of the meetings, only showing up when Harry had specifically asked him to. She snorted at the thought, and took a sip of her coffee.

It was no wonder that she'd thought that Colin's behavior resembled Harry's so closely - Colin had worshipped him since before he'd met him. She laughed openly at herself. Had that been her motivation for being with Colin? Knowing that he'd modeled himself after Harry, his hero and role model? Perhaps it had been her warped way of trying to be with Harry - Merlin knew that that was as close as she was going to get to him. All she could do was thank her lucky stars that she'd gotten out in time - otherwise she might have been bound to a Harry impersonator for the rest of her life.

She took another sip of the dark liquid and let it roll around in her mouth, savoring the bitter flavor of it. Why was it that since the trio had left her flat last night, her normally overactive mind had quieted? She hadn't felt so at peace in so long that she wasn't sure she wanted to upset it by going back to an Order meeting, and the next one was set for tomorrow night.

She put the thought off and focused her attention on the newspaper in front of her. The headlines were all about the newest developments on the war, of course; photos courtesy of staff photographer Colin Creevey. She turned several pages, only stopping when she came to the society pages. She peered down with mild interest at the cluster of photos on the first page.

The first one was, of course, of Harry. He stood tall and strong, with the wind blowing through his hair. Ginny wanted to laugh with the absurdity of the photo; it was so clearly worshipful that she was embarrassed for Colin. She started to wonder if maybe he hadn't been so close to her in order to be closer to Harry - he certainly seemed to love Harry more, in any case. Peals of giggles escaped her at the thought. She shook her head and focused on the next picture.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of a brunette woman who had the longest legs Ginny had ever seen in her life. The Malfoy in the photo wrapped his arms around the woman and brought her face close to his, as though to kiss her. It was such an intimate moment that it made Ginny's cheeks burn; this wasn't the sort of photograph that needed to be in a newspaper. What had gotten into Colin, and how had he gotten such a personal photo? She turned her eyes away, actually embarrassed for Malfoy, to have such a moment subjected to public scrutiny.

The next photo made her blink rapidly. It was a photo of herself standing next to some random stranger in Hogsmeade. She remembered the man, but only because he'd asked her for the time, which she had thought especially odd, since they were standing in front of a branch of Gringott's, and a large clock on the outside of the building was standard. She'd told him and then gone into a shop to look for a replacement quill, since she'd broken her favorite one. Colin would have had to have been following her to get the picture.

She didn't know what irked her more - that he'd followed her, or that she hadn't known he'd done it. Of course he was supposed to have been at the Prophet at the time, so he'd lied about his whereabouts.

She ground her teeth together and took a few deep breaths in a row, trying to remind herself of several things: one, that Colin was probably hurting right now; two, that she was free of him; and three, that she was lucky he hadn't thought of something more damaging to do. She sighed heavily and had just closed the paper when there was a knock at her door.

"Who is it?" she called.

"Sod the fucking wards, Weasel, and let me in already!" Ginny blinked in surprise and opened the door. Draco Malfoy pushed past her and looked around, cold fury in his pale eyes. "Where the fuck is he?"

"Who?" she asked, confused. He rounded on her and narrowed his eyes.

"Creevey. Where is he?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered, still frozen by the open door. "Why, what's he done?"

"Invaded my privacy for the last time, that's what. Now give him up! Where is he?" Malfoy aimed his wand at the sofa, and cushions went flying. Next the sofa was turned upside down. He had turned over both end tables and the coffee table by the time Ginny found her tongue again.

"Malfoy, stop it this instant! I have no earthly clue where Colin is!"

"He's not at his house," Malfoy snarled, still upending furniture. "So he must be here!"

"He has no reason to be here!" she protested, her hands on her hips. "So go look for him somewhere else!" Malfoy paused in his destruction and turned to look at her, curiosity in his eyes.

"Your fiance hasn't got reason to be here?"

"He's not my fiance anymore," she said, her arms dropping to her sides. She turned an end table back the way it was supposed to be and sighed. "I thought that everyone would know by now, especially since Hermione knew."

"Granger knows what?" he asked, turning his body towards her and folding his arms across his chest.

"You mean she hasn't told everyone she knows yet that I've broken things off with Colin?" Ginny asked bitterly. Malfoy arched an eyebrow.

"Should she have?"

"She was pretty mad at me for it - I guess I automatically assumed that she'd be regaling everyone with stories of how I deserve whatever I get for doing such a terrible thing to him." She shrugged and continued picking up the mess.

Malfoy watched her in silence for a moment before shrugging. "Not everyone is so concerned with your love life - or lack thereof."

"Which is your way of trying to say what? That no one is going to listen to her when she tells them, or that you personally don't care? Because that second one doesn't even matter to me, since she obviously wasn't beating down your door to tell you."

"Oh, defensive, aren't we?"

"No, we are not anything. We will never be anything. If I'm defensive, consider my present company. I have every reason to be that way."

"Why break things off with Creevey anyway?" Malfoy asked, watching her clean up with detached boredom. "Didn't he worship the quicksand you walk on?" She stopped and stared at him, trying to fight the upwards curve of her lips. He frowned. "What?"

"Did you just make a joke, Malfoy?"

"I don't think so." She shrugged and continued tidying up.

"Besides, I don't think it was me that he worshipped, exactly. I don't have green eyes and black hair, and I'm no one's savior."

"You and he have a common obsession, then," Malfoy retorted, his sneer making an appearance. She bristled and narrowed her eyes at him. "I would think that you were a match made in heaven. Probably spent all of your time together worshipping at the altar of Potter."

"What? You know-" she took a calming breath before speaking. "If anyone is as obsessed with Harry as Colin, it's you, Malfoy! You're always the one who's so concerned about what he's doing, who he's with - not me!"

"I'm the bastard's fucking bodyguard!" Malfoy bit out, his usually pale skin pinking with fury. Her jaw dropped and she stared at him. "As if the gits in your organization didn't have any better jobs for me to do than to be subservient to the one person I loathe on this earth more than any other!"

"If you're his bodyguard, that must mean that they really trust you."

"What do I care? I might as well be in prison for all the freedom I have. If anything happens to your precious Potter, I'm going to be the one to hang for it!" Ginny closed her mouth and stared openly at him. Malfoy closed his eyes and shook his head. "And no one is supposed to know that, so now I have to modify your memory."

"Oh, this is an excellent start to my day!" she seethed, balling up her fists. "It's not my fault that you spilled your guts to me, you foul git! Oh, poor Malfoy, having to do his part to help the Order," she whined nasally. His back went rigid. "You couldn't keep your bloody gob shut, and now I have to suffer for it? Great job. Fantastic! Do you think no one's going to notice that I have no memory of anything that's happened today?"

"What do you care? Erasing your memory would probably be a favor to you. I could make you forget how pathetic you are, pining after Potter so badly that you became involved with his clone."

"Only you would be so arrogant as to think that all of my memories with Colin would be bad," she seethed, stomping her foot.

"You ended things with him, did you not?" he demanded.

"I did, but that doesn't mean-"

"He made you miserable, did he not?"

"Only towards the end, before-"

"He emulates Potter, does he not?"

"Would you stop that?" she shrieked, stepping forward and shoving his chest forcefully with both hands. "I did what I had to do to rid myself of him, so that part of my life is over, all right? Just because I decided not to be with him doesn't mean that all of our time together was bad. And don't you think I know how pathetic it is that I chose to be with someone who tries so hard to be like someone I once loved? Hell, maybe that's the reason he exerted the effort! But what right do you have to come here and get in my face over my own personal business?"

He stared at her; watched her chest heaving with the angry breaths she was taking. He noted the fury glittering in her eyes and the way her entire body was shaking with the force of her emotions, and in that moment, he came to one conclusion.

Ginny Weasley was the most exciting thing that had happened to him in a long time.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, you pillock?" she demanded. "If you're going to try and modify my memory, I hope you know that you're going to have a hell of a fight on your hands."

"Doubtless," he muttered disinterestedly, shaking his head to regain control of his thoughts. "I don't suppose that I could simply rely on your ability to keep your mouth shut, could I?"

"Is-" she tilted her head to one side and inspected him with surprise. "That isn't - are you saying that you're not going to try and wipe my memory?"

"I haven't said anything," he sniffed, smoothing wrinkles out of the front of his robe with gloved hands. "If you see Creevey," he said, walking towards the door, "don't tell him I'm looking for him. I want to savor the look of surprise on the little flobberworm's face when I catch him."

Ginny stared at the back of her door long after Malfoy had gone.

**********************

"I'll be back in a few hours," Ron said, reaching for his cloak. Hermione didn't look up from the book she was reading, and simply nodded.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, glancing up. Ron pulled on his gloves and began wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"I'm having lunch with Ginny," he explained, securing his wand inside his cloak. "And I'm going to take her for a spot of Christmas shopping afterwards, I think. She needs some cheering up, what with all of the things that have happened in the last few days."

"She needs someone to shake some sense into her, is what she needs," Hermione replied coolly, her eyes still on her book. "Colin is a good man who loves her, and if she lets him get away, she's making the biggest mistake of her life."

"If you love him so much, why don't you go marry him?" Ron snapped, his cheeks pinking. "People can't control who they do or don't love, Hermione. You and I both know the reality of that, don't we?" Hermione didn't respond, but her lips tightened into a thin line.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to tag along," Harry said, rising from his desk and reaching for his cloak. At this, Hermione finally looked up. When she caught Ron's eye, she focused on her book again. "I would love to get out from under this sea of books for a while."

"I'm sure your company will be welcome," Ron said meaningfully. Harry blinked, and then turned to see Hermione's cheeks turning red. "Let's go - I told her I'd be there by one, and I don't want to be late."

Hermione stared unseeing at the book in front of her, painfully aware that no one had asked her to come along.

***************************

Ginny was sitting in her and Ron's usual booth in Giorgio's, their favorite Italian restaurant, drumming her fingertips against the tabletop. Her encounter with Malfoy had been unsettling, to say the very least. Why would he have let her keep her memories, if it would jeopardize both he and Harry? And that look he'd given her - what had that been about?

"Scoot over, big arse," Ron said, throwing his gloves on the table. She looked up, beginning to smile. Her smile faded when she saw her brother's best friend trailing along behind him. She moved over to allow Ron to sit down, but did not make eye contact with Harry, who slid into the seat across from them.

"Had a good day so far, then?" Ron asked, clearing his throat. Ginny forced a smile and nodded, her eyes darting around the room. Her mind was working overtime; if Malfoy was Harry's bodyguard, then surely he had to be close by - close enough to hear their conversation.

"I'm fine. I had a slow morning - spent it having some coffee over the Prophet." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Then I'm sure you saw the society pages, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. Ron, you know Colin is probably hurting right now - I'm sure it will pass."

"You're a hell of a lot more forgiving than I would ever be."

"How do I have room to be the forgiving one?" she asked, looking down at her menu. "I broke things off with him, remember? He's the one who will do the forgiving - or not."

"Still," Ron said, reading over her shoulder. "If it were me in your position, I'd still be upset that he was trying to start rumours about me."

"What does anyone care about my love life, or lack thereof?" she asked. Instantly her cheeks pinked; hadn't someone said those very words to her just this morning? She was getting uncomfortable. It was time to change the subject. "Where's Hermione?"

"She couldn't get away from her research," Ron said quickly, sounding apologetic. Harry said nothing, and focused instead on his own menu. "What are you going to have?"

"I think just some soup and bread," she said, sipping from her glass of water. Ron gave her a wary look.

"Uh oh. Don't tell me that you're going to do this again," he said.

"Do what?" she asked innocently.

"Every time you break up with a boy, you go on this weird diet, and you don't eat properly for weeks."

"Oh, you're exaggerating!" she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I do not!"

"You do! Remember when you and Michael Corner broke up? All you ate for a week were the popcorn flavored Bertie Bott's beans. And remember Seamus Finnigan? After him you ate nothing but chocolate ice cream. And after Harry, you-"

"Ron, I think that's enough," she said softly, her cheeks burning hotly. She chanced a look up at Harry and was embarrassed to find him watching her. She averted her eyes quickly and cleared her throat. "Are you going to order something to take back to Hermione? You should probably go ahead and tell the waitress when we place our orders, so it'll be ready by the time we leave."

"She never said she wanted anything," Harry said, speaking for the first time since they'd shown up.

"It might still be a welcome surprise for her, especially since she's doing all of your work for you while you're gone," Ginny told him, looking anywhere but his eyes.

"Maybe she's right," Ron sighed, looking at the menu again. Ginny gave him a sympathetic smile. What was it about Hermione that caused Harry to ignore her and Ron to moon over her? "But what would she like? I don't remember what she gets here."

"She likes the vegetarian lasagna," Harry offered. Ron frowned.

"How do you know that?"

"It's the same thing your sister gets every time we come here, Ron." Ginny said nothing. It was Harry's job to notice details, so there was no point in reading into it, no matter how much it surprised her.

"Vegetarian," Ron snorted. "How can you eat a dish without any meat in it?" Harry laughed, and he and Ron began making jokes about meat. Ginny let her mind wander as she glanced around the room. How was Malfoy even here? Where was he hiding? Was he under an Invisibility Cloak? Was he sitting next to Harry right now? Surely wherever he was, he was bored to death with their conversation and watching them eat. Would he be able to eat? She sighed. He probably thought this place was beneath him. Ron nudged her shoulder.

"You all right there, Gin?"

"Fine, Ron. Just preoccupied, is all."

"I'll bet," he said, smiling at the waitress as she approached their table. Ron ordered for himself and Hermione, and Harry ordered after Ginny. If Malfoy was present, Ginny thought, he was doing a bang-up job of staying hidden and silent. "So . . . who was that guy in the picture with you this morning?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't even know. He was just some random stranger asking me for the time."

"Really?" Ron frowned. "So you're not already seeing someone else?"

"No, Ronald. I'm not seeing someone else - nor do I have any desire to right now."

"Why not?"

"Do you think that it's that easy to move from relationship to relationship?" she asked incredulously. "It's no wonder you haven't had one in so long, then."

Ron's face turned red, and he shrugged. "I just have to wonder why you ended things with Colin if you don't have someone else lined up to take his place already."

"Do we really have to do this? I thought you didn't care whether or not I wanted to get married," she pointed out. When Ron took a bite of bread and said nothing, she sighed. "Fine. I just - I guess I just realized that we weren't compatible."

"But he loves you," Harry spoke up, sounding confused. Ginny stared at him.

"Tell me you're not seriously arguing Colin's case?" Harry had the good grace to look embarrassed. "So you're telling me that, regardless of my own feelings towards him, I should stay with him just because he loves me?"

"No, I just meant-"

"If that's the case, why didn't Hermione stay with Ron? Why didn't you stay with me? Why didn't -"

"Gin!" Ron interjected, holding up his hands in surrender. "We get it. You didn't love him. Message received, okay? You just seem way too normal after this breakup. We're used to you being all depressed after a relationship ends."

"You know what? Birds sing after a storm. Why shouldn't people feel as free to do the same thing?"

"You're right, and we're sorry for pressing the issue. Right, Harry?" Harry stared at Ginny for a moment, and then nodded.

"He's right. I'm sorry. It's really none of my business."

"You guys are worried about me, and I appreciate it," Ginny sighed. "Sometimes the big brother act just gets old, you know? I am actually quite capable of making my own decisions."

Ron wondered if his sister had noticed the way that Harry had flinched when she'd said 'big brother.'

*************************

"You're pathetic, you know." Harry didn't look up from his work at the sound of Malfoy's voice.

"Oh?" he asked distractedly. "And why is that?"

"You have feelings for the little Weasel, and don't have the bollocks to tell her." This caught Harry's attention, and he dropped the quill he'd been using. He glared at Malfoy, who was tossing a small ball straight up in the air, and then letting it fall back into his hand.

"I don't have feelings for Ginny."

"Right, which is why you got so red-faced when she made that brother comment today about you."

"You know nothing about anything," Harry denied, his cheeks turning pink. "Ginny and I have history together, but that doesn't mean that I have feelings for her now."

"Right. And that's why you're not always thinking about her and avoiding looking at her during meetings." Harry shot up from his chair.

"You've been using Legilimency on me?" he demanded. Draco caught the ball and leveled a bored look at him.

"I don't need to use anything on you, Potter. You've just told me yourself." Harry glared at him and slowly sank back down into his chair, removing his glasses and throwing them on the desk.

"It's none of your business," Harry snapped, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I've got it under control, and nothing is going to happen."

"Nothing would happen anyway. The girl isn't interested in you anymore."

"And I'm going to believe you why?" Harry asked, snorting. "Since you and Ginny are such good friends, I'm sure she told you, right?"

"As we both well know, the thing doesn't have to be vocalized to know it."

"You son of a-"

"Watch it, Pothead," Draco warned, his voice low and dangerous. "One of these days, I'm going to get tired of being your watcher, and I'm going to be conveniently absent when you need me the most."

"You wouldn't dare. It would mean crawling back to your former organization, and after you've been so cooperative with us, I doubt you'd be very well received."

"Piss off!" Draco snarled, rising from his seat.

"What do you care if I have feelings for Ginny, anyway?" Harry asked curiously.

"I don't. I just find it rather funny that the roles have reversed, and the ignored has now become the one who ignores."

"She doesn't ignore me."

"No, but she wants to."

"Since when do you know what Ginny does or doesn't want?" Harry demanded, his anger spiking again. "Have you been using Legilimency on her?"

"Do you ever pay any attention to what's going on around you?" the blonde asked, rolling his eyes. "No, I don't suppose you do, or you wouldn't need me around." Draco sighed melodramatically and began to walk slowly around the room, looking down his nose at the bric-a-brac that cluttered the shelves.

"Which means what?"

"Granger is head over heels for you. Weasley is head over heels for her. His sister is losing her attraction to you, but for obvious reasons finds me compelling."

Harry laughed. "You think you're so observant. I know that Ron has feelings for Hermione, and that she doesn't reciprocate. Why do you think I've never tried anything with her?"

"Don't pretend to be the saint with me - it won't work. You can pretend that you've never showed interest in Granger because you didn't want to hurt your friend if that's what helps you sleep at night, but I know better. I know that you've never held interest in her, because if you had, even one look would have given it away."

"And you can read my looks?" Harry asked, disbelieving.

"Anyone could," Draco snorted. "You wear your heart on your sleeve. One would think that by now you'd have learned Occlumency."

Harry's face flushed. "I know Occlumency."

"Then you should start using it."

"This is insane. Why am I having this conversation with you?"

"This is probably the first intelligent conversation you've had in months."

"Wait," Harry said, sinking back down into his seat. "Did you say that Ginny was interested in you?"

"What do you know? He can listen sometimes."

"What makes you think that she's interested in you? She doesn't even see you outside of the Order meetings, and even then, you've never spoken to her."

"You're so closed minded, it's pathetic. What makes you think that someone has to speak in order to be noticed? I have a commanding presence."

"She doesn't know you exist," Harry replied, shaking his head and returning to his work. Draco shrugged and stared at a photo that was hanging on the wall. It was the golden trio, the girl Weasley, and Creevey. Even the photo was telling; Ginny's body language was stiff and removed from her then boyfriend; Ron had his arm around a very uncomfortable looking Hermione, and Harry was standing apart from the group.

"I think you'd be surprised," Draco breathed to himself.

***********************

For the most part, Draco had been spot on. Ginny had done nothing but think of him since their confrontation three days earlier, and it was starting to get annoying. She growled in frustration and threw her spoon into the sink, and then turned to fetch the container of ice cream from the table. She reached for it, and screamed when her hand encountered something warm.

"Bloody fucking hell, do you have to shriek like a banshee?" Malfoy removed the hood of his Invisibility Cloak and frowned at her. Ginny pressed a shaking hand to her breast.

"You are an arse!" she bit out. "What are you even doing here? How'd you get away from Harry?"

"I am allowed a few hours a week away from him, otherwise I'd go insane and kill the bastard myself."

"And you chose to do what? Come and torture me during your time off? Color me flattered," she snapped. "In the interest of saving time, why don't you just tell me what it is you want?"

"Conversation," he said simply.

Her anger deflated immediately. She blinked at him, and then sat down in the chair across from him, watching as he removed the rest of the cloak. "Why me?"

"Consider my other options," he reminded her, his voice full of bitterness.

"Right," she breathed, exhaling. Then, "How long do you have?"

"Three hours."

"Coffee?" He nodded, and she went to start the liquid brewing.

"I thought only Americans and Italians drank coffee."

"Well, since I am neither American nor Italian, you must be wrong. I quite enjoy coffee. I started taking it instead of tea almost a year ago." He remained silent until she brought in a mug of the steaming liquid and placed it on the table in front of him. "I assume that you take it unpolluted, as I do."

"You assume correctly," he said, breathing in the aroma of the brew before sipping gently at it. "You seem to be taking my presence in stride. Why?"

She fingered the handle of her mug and stared down into it. "I don't know."

"I know you were thinking about me," he said, taking a long pull of the scalding drink. "Is that why?"

"And how would you come to know a thing like that?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Not going to bother denying it?"

"Why should I, if it's true?" He stared at her for several minutes before speaking.

"I know because I was here for nearly half an hour before I revealed myself to you. I saw you gorging yourself on ice cream - which you haven't put away yet, by the way." He indicated the carton with a nod of the head.

"Want some?"

He shook his head. "Peppermint ice cream isn't really my cup of tea."

"It's nearly Christmas," she explained, putting the ice cream away. She took his empty mug and refilled it before sitting back down. "Will you get time away on the holiday?"

"I suppose I will," he said noncommittally.

"Want to spend a few hours here with me?"

"Won't you be going to your parents' home for Christmas with them and Potter?"

"Early in the day, but not in the evening. Besides, I figured that you'd be there with Harry anyway - not that you want to, but I'm sure you'll attend." He didn't answer, just stared at her over the rim of his mug as he took a drink. "Will you actually be visible, or will you still be hiding?"

"Your parents' home is considered a safe house for all Order members, and has been protected as such. If I choose to become visible, I can."

"Will you? Choose to be visible, I mean."

"Why would I do that? If you can see me, you might be tempted to speak to me."

Her lips twitched in amusement. "And you want me to speak to you, just not when anyone else knows that I'm doing it, right?"

"I could care less if anyone knows you've spoken to me."

"And that's why you've already told Harry that you were here the last time, right?" He didn't answer. "I thought as much."

"Do you understand the kind of hell that I'm living in right now?" he asked, staring intently at her. "Potter has me at his beck and call; can say or do anything to me that he wants - but if I retaliate in any way-"

"I understand," she interrupted, nodding. He clamped his lips together. "But what can they say or do to you if you're interacting with me in front of everyone, with nothing to hide? I would think that you'd be safer doing that than what we're doing right now."

"Indeed?" He watched her thoughtfully, and shifted in his chair. "So you would be perfectly comfortable speaking to me in front of Potter and all of your family, even though they all consider me a loose cannon?"

"How crazy can they really think you if they've put you in the position to guard their savior?"

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a yes," she affirmed. "But would you be comfortable with it?"

"Was that meant to be funny?" he asked, tilting his head to one side. "Speaking to you would irritate Potter - that alone is motive enough to do it."

"So it's settled, then. You're going to be visible at my family's home on Christmas, and we're going to speak. More coffee?"

"Yes. Is that all you're going to offer me while I'm here?"

"Is there something else you want?" He stared at her, and she turned to face him. There was a strange look on his face that made her feel as though the bottom had dropped out of her stomach.

"Something to eat would suffice," he said finally. She fought the odd sense of disappointment that washed over her and nodded.

"What would you like?"

"Anything but oatmeal or toast."

"Is that all you've been eating?"

"Why is that important?"

"It's not. I was just wondering, is all. So you have what - an hour and a half left?"

"Yes."

"Is that time enough for some delivered food?"

"No outsiders should know I'm here."

"They won't," she said, searching for a quill and a spare bit of parchment.

"They will when they see that you've ordered two meals."

"Who said I was going to order two meals?" She scribbled something on the parchment, then rolled it up and handed it to her tawny colored owl. After he'd gone, she turned back to Malfoy.

"You're not going to eat?"

"I gorged on ice cream earlier, remember?"

"How long will it take to arrive?" he asked, rising from his seat. He walked slowly around the room, taking in his surroundings.

"They usually take about twenty minutes - sometimes less, but never more."

"You and Creevey would never have lasted," he observed, picking up a photo of the two of them. Ginny propped her chin up on the table with her hand.

"And, pray tell, what lead you to that stunning conclusion?"

"You're too different," he said, his eyes roving over the picture.

"Examples?"

"You don't like to be touched, and all he wanted to do was hang on you. You enjoy your career, but it's not your life's blood. You wanted a small wedding, and he wanted the entire Wizarding world there. You had different hobbies."

"Okay, you're way off the mark," she said, shaking her head. "First of all, I love my work. I can't picture myself doing anything else besides working for my brothers."

"But you wouldn't wither and die if you woke up tomorrow without that job."

"Well - no."

"And the wedding?"

"Well, that part was right," she sighed. "I didn't want a big wedding, but I don't know what he wanted, since we didn't really discuss it."

"And the hobbies?"

"We both enjoy reading, although he didn't seem to do it very much. We both enjoyed Quidditch - me playing, and him watching."

"I find it interesting that you haven't addressed the touching issue yet."

She cleared her throat and stood, turning her back to him. "You were very wrong on that front. I don't mind being touched at all."

"Just not by him, is that it?"

She said nothing and went to the window to retrieve the owl that carried the food she'd ordered. She opened the Styrofoam box and slid the food onto a plate, and then went to get a pitcher and glass from the kitchen. When she returned, he was still standing in the same spot in front of her fireplace, staring at the photo.

"Your food is here."

"I can see that."

"Is there something interesting about that picture?"

He looked up at her. "Why stay with someone so long if you can't stand to have him touch you?" The question caught her off guard, and she opened and closed her mouth several times without any sound escaping.

"Your food is going to get cold," she said finally. He replaced the picture and sat down at the table.

"Steak and fish?"

"Surf and turf," she explained, pouring a tall glass of pumpkin juice. "Classic comfort food."

"Why did you order this?"

"I guess you looked like you needed some comfort. I took the liberty of ordering the steak rare."

"How did you know I took it that way?"

"I didn't. That's how I take it. I took a chance." He picked up the fork and knife that she'd provided and started cutting the steak. She turned and went to the mantel, where she removed the photo that he'd been looking at. "How could you tell all of that from looking at this?"

"A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you, the less you know." She turned to look at him.

"Deep," she replied, sighing. She removed the photo from the frame and tossed it into the garbage. "Now I need another photo to fill the frame. How is your food?"

"Edible," he replied. She rolled her eyes.

"Seasoned okay? Do you need salt or pepper? Cyanide, perhaps?"

"Why are you offering me Muggle poison, Weasley?"

"Because I was being sarcastic and didn't think you'd know what it was," she answered honestly. He looked up and arched an eyebrow at her.

"Indeed."

"So tell me something about yourself," she said, flopping down onto her sofa.

"I didn't come here so you could get to know me."

"I don't know why you came here at all. If you're so observant, you would've had to have known that I'm nosey by nature, so you knew I'd ask questions."

"Questions at least make for conversation."

"Then why not stay with Hermione? You could have at least had intelligent conversation with her."

"Are you telling me that you're not capable of intelligent conversation, or that you don't want me here?"

"Neither, actually. I was just pointing out that if you're just looking for conversation, there were far better choices available to you."

"What makes you think that anyone else would have agreed to this without laughing me out of the room?"

"What made you think I wouldn't?" she challenged.

"I just knew you wouldn't."

"You only have an hour left," she pointed out, adjusting the delicate watch on her wrist. "So. What next?"

"We remove all outer vestments and shag like rabbits." She choked on the coffee she'd just sipped, and reached for a napkin. Then he did something completely unexpected.

He smiled.

"Calm down, Weasley. You're supposed to drink the coffee, not squirt it through your nose. How undignified."

"Prat!" she managed, dabbing at the dark stain on her white t-shirt. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Because you've been wondering if that's what I wanted since I got here."

"You just like having things out in the open, don't you?"

"Damn, I'm good. I wasn't even being serious, and you 'fessed up. And here I only suspected my unfettered omniscience. You've gone and proved it."

"All right. Yes, I wondered about ulterior motives, but no, I didn't think you'd want that. Blood traitors don't exactly seem like your type. And even if there wasn't that to deal with, you'd never have anything to do with one of Harry's castoffs."

"Fucking hell, how much thought have you given this?" he asked, his eyes wide. Her cheeks turned scarlet.

"Not much," she lied, taking his plate into the kitchen.

"So," he said coolly when she reentered the room. "Shall we shag now, or shall we shag later?"

"You're crazy," she laughed, shaking her head.

"Well, I hadn't planned on any physical exertion, but if you're gagging for it-"

"Yeah, I'm the one gagging for it," she said, rolling her eyes. "And how long has it been since you've been with a woman?"

"Long enough," he answered, his eyes losing their sparkle and his almost mirthful tone disappearing. "How about you?"

"Oh dear Merlin, tell me this is not turning into a sex talk."

"I want to know."

"Fine. It's been at least eight months." He blinked.

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying."

"No one can go without for that long."

"You have," she shot back, feeling the heat in her cheeks.

"Not willingly." He stood and stretched languidly. "Are you going to buy me dinner every time I visit?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Are you trying to get me to feel as though I owe you?"

"I don't know. Am I?"

"Quit answering my questions with more questions."

"You quit first."

"You can be juvenile at times, do you know that?"

"And you can be a complete jerk, too."

"Point taken."

She was silent for a moment, and then glanced over at him, embarrassed to find his eyes focused on her. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Very funny."

"Ask," he commanded, folding his arms across his chest.

"If two people are in a relationship, and one loves but the other doesn't, is the one who doesn't love duty bound to stay?"

"No." She nodded to herself and stared out the window. "Don't let those people talk you into going back." Her eyes shot back to him. "You're the one who was miserable, not them." She laughed softly.

"Why are you being so nice to me, when you've always hated my family and what we stood for?"

"Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together."

"Okay, just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie." He shrugged.

"I think it's time for me to go." She looked uncomfortable for a moment. "What?"

"Am I supposed to do something?"

"Like what?"

"Like hug you, or something?"

"Sure - if you want me to hex the hell out of you." She laughed as he disappeared under the cloak.