If you'd asked the raven-haired boy whether he'd believed in love at first sight before today, the answer wouldn't have been any derivation of yes. The idea that a person could simply look at someone for the first time, and see love, only proved that person shallow and fickle. Love like that was based on appearance, and that hardly seemed like love at all. Until, that is, this certain raven-haired youth had his run in with love at first sight.

Harry James Potter, aged twenty, stepped into the muggle bookstore with a one-track mind. He wanted to pick up the book Hermione requested and get out of there, before some lonely stranger tried to engage him in conversation. His head was pounding irritably, protesting this venture into muggle society, but he'd promised Hermione that he would pick it up for her and she simply needed it.

Bright green eyes traveled over to the built-in Starbucks café, and he instantly made up his mind to grab a cup of the overpriced coffee. Luckily, the counter was nearly deserted, and the apron-wearing employee walked over to him as soon as he approached.

"May I help you?"

"Um..." Harry's brow furrowed as he scanned the menu of unfamiliar coffees. The man at the counter watched him with vague annoyance, tapping his fingers lightly against the register. "I'll have a small House Blend."

"We don't have small..."

"Tall, whatever," Harry snapped, rolling his eyes. Did coffee really need its own sizes? The employee huffed, but didn't comment, turning to prepare the order. It was then that Harry spun, completely prepared to prop his arm on the counter, and saw her. His arm completely missed its target and he fell on the floor with a noticeable thud. Cheeks flaming, he pushed his eternally messy hair from his face and looked to see if she'd noticed his misfortune.

Luckily, her blue eyes were narrowed in concentration, pouring over the pages of Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality by Sigmund Freud, as her hand worked endlessly jotting notes into a composition notebook. Lengthy blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail, wisps of bangs hanging around her face. Pearly white teeth bit down on her bottom lip distractedly as she wrote. Her free hand jumped from the pages of the open book to her coffee, which she sipped absently, licking her lips and setting the cup back down.

Unfortunately, she missed the table much like he did moments before, and the cup dropped to the floor like a lead weight. The top popped off, coincidently, and the steaming coffee splattered all over the place, including the girl's leg. She screeched and hopped out of her chair instantly, grabbing a handful of napkins to soak up the mess. Harry found himself grabbing the napkin dispenser from the counter and running over, despite his mind's protest. As soon as he bent down to help, she snatched the napkins from his hands and muttered a thank you.

"Ah, I'm so clumsy, I hope it didn't get on the book. At this rate I'll never finish my essay; I'll fail the course, and never graduate. Not to mention I ruined my favorite white pants." Harry raised an eyebrow as the girl rambled on to herself, still soaking up the spilled coffee. Without warning, she jumped to her feet, not realizing how close the black-haired guy still was to her. They slammed into each other and bounced backwards.

To make matters worse, the girl landed in the remaining puddle of coffee, effectively staining the bottom of her white jeans. Her pale-toned skin flushed a contradictory red as she stared at him angrily. Harry braced himself for the shouting he was in for.

"What's the big idea? Oh god, can this day get any worse?" Her tone sounded surprisingly calm as she stood, surveying the damage to her clothing. Harry scrambled to his feet as well, looking very red in the face.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to help." He sputtered. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he tugged his green sweater off. The girl's blue eyes widened as he pushed the sweater in her hands. "Here."

"What's this for?" She asked, holding the sweater up with a perplexed expression.

"You can tie it around your waist, so no one will see the stain on your pants." He explained, stumbling over his words terribly.

"How will you get it back though? Is this some con just to get my address or my phone number or something? My friends warned me about this, are you some pervert? I know some karate." The girl looked at him intensely, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. To emphasize her last statement, she crouched into a makeshift fighting stance. Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"Keep it." He said, and then turned back towards the counter, where the disgruntled Starbucks employee was impatiently waiting for his payment. After taking his change, Harry walked over to the history section of the bookstore, trying to sip at his hot coffee. The book Hermione was seeking happened to be sitting in a cardboard display, so the green-eyed boy picked up the thick paperback volume and headed towards the checkout.

Luck favored him once more; the area was completely deserted, save for the cashier. The woman's honey colored bangs hung in her eyes as she organized the books behind the counter, and Harry suddenly wondered how she could see anything at all. As he approached, however, she looked up and smiled politely at him. Quickly abandoning her organizing, she walked over to her register.

"How are you today?" She asked, and Harry responded with a 'good.' "Do you have our card?" Harry shook his head negative, and again when she asked if he wanted one, tousling his untidy hair even more. His eyes had subconsciously wandered back over to the blonde girl he'd ran into moments before. She was gathering her things together, his own green sweater draped around her waist.

Sighing, the girl returned the book she'd been reading to a nearby shelf, under a sign that read 'Psychology.' After readjusting her ponytail, she left the bookstore unknowingly under Harry's stare. He frowned slightly when he realized he hadn't even asked the girl's name. Turning back to the annoyed cashier, who'd been vying for his attention the past few moments, he pressed some cash in her hands and grabbed his purchase, completely forgetting his coffee.

"Keep the change!" He shouted back to her as he dashed out of the store.

"Sir, your receipt! Your coffee!" The honey-haired woman shouted, pushing her bangs furiously out of her eyes. Harry was long gone, however, looking around the crowded London sidewalks frantically. Try as he might, he couldn't spot any blonde ponytails in the crowd. The girl had simply vanished into thin air.

Usagi Tsukino sighed dramatically to herself as she dropped her notebooks on her unkempt, lumpy twin bed and tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair. The shiny, golden locks fell against her shoulders, and she ran her fingers through it to tousle the dent that the ponytail had caused. The shortening of her hair had been completely impulsive, almost an accident, and she'd instantly regretted it. Some things are undoable, and that's one of them unfortunately, so she'd been growing it out since.

As she untied the sweater from her waist, her thoughts drifted to the strange guy she'd met not too long ago, and figured she probably shouldn't have accused him of being a lecher. Pulling her pants off as well, she frowned at the mirror that revealed her equally stained undies. Sighing again, she raided her closet for a clean outfit and headed toward the tiny bathroom.

After showering, she wrapped a towel around her wet hair, not in the mood for blow drying. Erasing her mind of thoughts about the stranger, she tossed the sweater in the hamper with the rest of her clothes and grabbed her notebooks. She placed them on the only other piece of furniture in the room, her plain oak desk, and plopped into the wheeled desk chair. Instead of launching into her essay, she spun in the chair for a few moments, relaxing her nerves.

The essay at hand was due in one week, and she'd been ignoring it for three months. In fact it was a little more than an essay, it was her term paper, and a hefty chunk of her grade depended on it. Originally, she'd wanted to attend Tokyo University, but due to her records in junior high she was rejected by the prestigious academy. She wasn't terribly upset, because even though the school was a highly respected college, it didn't have the best Psychology program.

If you haven't guessed yet, Usagi had decided near the end of her junior high life that she really wanted to be a Psychiatrist. Thanks to Ami and Rei, she'd finally buckled down and studied her heart out for entrance exams. The result: entry into one of the most reputable high schools in Japan, and the hardest years of her young life. After she was denied by Tokyo University, she received a letter from Goldsmiths College, a part of the University of London.

Post-research she learned that they had one of the best Psychology programs in Europe, and the fact that they were interested in her was very exciting. After being accepted into their school, she spent another rigorous summer working full-time to save up expenses and learning English.

In her spare time she compiled a series of three essays on Sigmund Freud's theory of child development and behavior, which earned her some hefty scholarships. As a result, most of her tuition was paid for, and the rest had been taken care of by her parents. Now, she was in her second year of college, and enjoying London to the fullest. Once she got past all the traditional tourist attractions, she'd visited the Freud Museum London, and been inspired to learn everything she could about one of the most influential men in Psychology history.

Now, though, she wished her term paper was on a less broad subject, because there was a lot to know about Sigmund Freud, that Usagi knew, and not so much room in a term paper for all of it. So instead of explaining all his theories like she had in so many other essays she'd written, she decided to use her knowledge of the man's personal life to try and explain how it influenced his work.

It was a good idea, she'd thought, but it was very easy to have a good idea and quite hard to actually carry that idea out. The blonde had been researching for a straight week, and she had yet to start even a rough draft. Her nerves were completely shot, to put it mildly.

"I want to be a star! I want to be the best in the world!" Usagi swiveled in her chair and smiled at her door, which burst open moments later to reveal her room mate. The other blonde was still singing at the top of her lungs, but she quieted when she noticed Usagi's stare. "Oh, Usa-chan! I'm sorry; I didn't know you were working."

"No problem, Mina, I was actually taking a break." Usagi smiled lightly. Minako had been a huge help to her also, moving to London with her. Once the goddess of love found out that Usagi was moving to London, she'd pounced on the opportunity to return to the city where she'd started as Sailor V. On top of it all, she'd refused to talk to Usagi in any language but English, which greatly frustrated the other girl but helped her to get the hang of it faster.

"Good. I got you some more headache medicine, since you've been popping them like candy." Minako pressed the bottle in her hand and continued her way to the clothes hamper. "I got a ketchup on my favorite jacket today. I'm thinking of taking it to the cleaners so I don't ruin it."

Minako pulled off her jacket and opened the clothes hamper. Before she tossed the jacket in, however, her blue eyes caught sight of a certain green sweater, and she froze. Usagi wrinkled her brow in confusion, but her expression changed to one of horror as Minako held up the green sweater. The other blonde was grinning slyly, enjoying the look of despair on her friend's face.

"A guy's sweater, Usa-chan? Are you skipping out on your term paper to have secret rendezvous with guys?" Minako laughed at the look her friend was giving her, dropping the sweater back in the hamper and sitting on the bed.

"Not exactly. I sat in some coffee and this guy let me borrow his sweater, end of story." Usagi explained, amused as Minako puffed her cheeks up in frustration.

"Oh come off it. Was the guy cute? Did he ask for your phone number? Did you give it to him? How on earth did you sit in coffee?" Usagi held her hands up to slow the barrage of questions, laughing the whole time.

"Alright, alright. Like an idiot, I spilt my coffee all over the floor while I was at the bookstore. I started cleaning up and this guy comes over with a bunch of napkins. I take the napkins from him and start cleaning up the mess, not really thinking about it, but when I went to stand up we ran right into each other. I fell backwards into the coffee, leaving a huge stain on my pants. The guy offered me his sweater to cover up the stain and left." Usagi moved her eyes from the ceiling, where she'd been looking during the story, and met Minako's annoyed expression.

"You've left out the most important part, Usa-chan." The other blonde said seriously, causing a large sweatdrop to appear over Usagi's towel-draped hair. She shrunk in her chair as Minako drew closer, until they were face-to-face. Suddenly, she broke into a starry-eyed grin. "Was he cute?"

"Uwa! Mina-chan," Usagi face-faulted at the question, while Minako giggled at her and plopped back into her sitting position. Regaining her composure, she cleared her throat and cooled the red that had appeared on her cheeks. Harder to avoid was Minako's grinning face as she waited for her answer. "Alright, alright. He was kind of cute."

"Usagi!" Said blonde immediately rolled away from the overzealous Minako as she hopped to her feet. The goddess of love bounced over to Usagi regardless, pulling her to her feet and wrapping a firm arm around her shoulders. She spoke to the squirming rabbit in a low, serious voice. "You should ask this guy out. It's practically destiny!"

Minako released Usagi at last, pointing her index finger into the air and placing her other hand on her hip. She laughed triumphantly, going into an all out speech, while Usagi slowly backed away. Reaching the one window in her small, bland bedroom, she looked out onto the London streets and sighed.

'What is destiny, Minako-chan?' Usagi looked over her shoulder, where Minako was still rambling away, and smiled at what a character her friend was. Her blue eyes dropped to the floor as she unwound the towel from her damp hair and tossed it at the clothes hamper. It missed and crumpled to the floor in a messy heap, but Usagi didn't bother picking it up. Instead, she turned back to the window. 'I don't believe in that anymore. Gomen ne, Mina.'

"So, how much of your essay is done, Usa-chan?" Minako asked, shuffling through her composition notebook. Usagi's eyes widened to rival golf balls.

"AIE! I'm going to fail!" Minako laughed jovially as the rabbit sprinted back towards her rolling desk chair and opened her laptop, which was a courtesy of the college 1, to begin typing up her first draft.

Harry sighed heavily to himself as he pushed open the door to his home. He lived in a small house about fifteen miles outside of London, with two other people, and had since he'd graduated Hogwarts. Nowadays he was working for the Ministry of Magic, quietly heading the Department of Magical Games and Sports since Ludo Bagman had stepped down.

Of course, Ron had begged him to go out for Auror training with him, and Moody had encouraged him to join as well, but he wouldn't have it. The boy-who-lived had more than enough run-ins with trouble in his seven years at Hogwarts to last him a while, and somehow he didn't think being an Auror was quite for him. His friends had understood, but Moody had promised him a spot if he ever changed his mind.

Stretching his arms, he tried to relieve some of the built-up tension in his muscles. In the process, he dropped Hermione's book on the floor. Without bothering to pick it up, he called out, "'Mione! I got your book!"

Instantly, there was a thud upstairs, followed by the shuffle of shoe-less feet on a hardwood floor. Hermione appeared at the bottom of the stairs a moment later, looking terribly disheveled. Her bushy brown mane puffed out even more than usual, and her eyes held the distinct look of someone who'd neglected sleep recently. She pounced on the book like a wild animal.

"Harry, thank you so much! I would've gotten it myself but I didn't trust myself to drive." Harry laughed lightly as Hermione flipped through the pages, smiling brightly.

"That was probably for the best." He agreed.

"I'd love to chat, but I'm really busy. Thanks again!" As fast as she'd appeared, Hermione padded back up the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom. Harry chuckled to himself, admiring his friend's dedication. After she'd graduated Hogwarts, she received countless job offers because of her outstanding O.W.L.S. and well-rounded subject knowledge. With much deliberation, Hermione had preferred to pursue a career in the muggle world.

How the girl resolved to go to college after Hogwarts was a mystery, and how she did it without any high school credentials was even more amazing. Somehow, though, she'd landed a spot at the University of London and was well on her way to a degree in law. Harry could see Hermione in a business suit, referencing countless books and tearing through witnesses. It seemed to be the perfect thing for the distinctly shrewd girl to do.

"Oy, Harry, don't stand in the doorway!"

"Sorry Ron." Harry stepped out of the way of his red-haired friend, and if you haven't figured out by now, the two people living with Harry are Ron and Hermione. Ron grinned at him as he passed.

"No big deal, I'm just in a bad mood. There haven't been any new leads on this guy and all the old leads have reached dead ends." As he spoke, Ron threw the day's edition of the Daily Prophet, a popular newspaper in the wizarding world, down on their dining room table. Harry looked at the mug shot of the criminal printed in black and white on the front page, and was suddenly reminded of his godfather, Sirius Black, who was on the run during his third year at Hogwarts.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, frowning at the memory. Walking past Ron, he went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A half-empty milk carton stared back at him, accompanied by week-old pork chops, the ever-clichéd Chinese food carton, and leftover lasagna from the previous day's dinner. With a sigh, he grabbed the lasagna container, dumped it onto a paper plate, and stuck it in the microwave.

"'Mione has not been shopping." Ron declared as he observed the same fridge scenery that Harry had moments before, minus the lasagna. He pushed the door closed and looked at Harry. "Is she still obsessing over that paper?"

"Yeah. It's not like Hermione to put a big assignment off. I wonder if she forgot about it." The black-haired boy responded, poking his nuked lasagna with a fork. Ron shrugged, watching as the lasagna jiggled like Jell-o. Harry wrinkled his nose and pushed the substance away from him. "I don't think it's safe anymore."

"Truthfully, it wasn't very safe last night." Ron said, dumping the plate in the trash. Harry was about to laugh, when the source of the joke appeared in the kitchen with them, and I don't mean a giant lasagna.

"I heard that, Ron." Hermione snapped as she walked across the kitchen, towards what else but the fridge. Ron stepped away, well out of range of an attack as Hermione yanked the refrigerator door open.

"Don't bother, Hermione. There's nothing in there." Harry said, opening cabinets now to find something to eat. The only things there were stuff you needed to combine to make meals, and no one had the time or the skill for that. Hermione closed the fridge disdainfully.

"You should probably go shopping." Ron suggested, immediately shrinking under the glare that Hermione sent him. She grabbed her purse from the counter, dug in it for a moment, and slapped a debit card on the counter next to him. Each of them deposited so much in the account per month to be spent on necessities for the house, like toilet paper and food, even though it was harder on Harry and Ron since they had to convert their wizard money to muggle money all the time.

"No, Ron, you two should go shopping. Just because I'm the girl in the house doesn't mean it's my responsibility." With that, the Hermione tornado blew back upstairs, slamming her door behind her. Ron looked at the card with wide eyes.

"I don't even know how to use this." He admitted, handing the card to Harry. The raven-haired boy looked down at the card derisively, realizing he would yet again be straying in the muggle world that evening. Then again, Hermione would be working nonstop the rest of the evening, and Ron would most likely be poring over his ever elusive criminal's file. All he had to do the rest of the evening was write out his usual sports column for the Daily Prophet, which he was nearly done with anyway.

"Alright, I'll go. I'll pick up some pizza on the way home, so we don't have to cook anything." He finally said. Ron nodded his distracted approval, already immersing himself in his case and walking off, muttering all the way. Amused, Harry shook his head and grabbed his car keys from the hook by the door. With one sorrowful look back at his cozy home, he left the house.

Since the last time Harry'd been to the muggle marketplace had been at least two years prior, the green-eyed wizard had to readjust, walking slowly through the aisles. He threw in things at random, only mildly interested in the whole process. His mind was on the pizza he'd stopped and ordered on the way here, which would be ready for pick-up by the end of his shopping. Thinking it over, he was sure he'd down one or two pieces before ever getting home.

Rushing, he picked out a check out line and shifted his weight from foot to foot while he waited. He read the covers of muggle tabloids, to pass the time, but it wasn't long before he found a new distraction. The blonde girl in front of him jumped, the cell phone in her pocket blasting the newest rock hit as a ring tone. She quickly pulled it out and flipped it open; Harry was unable to resist the urge to eavesdrop.

"Hello?" The girl's voice held an English accent, but there was a definite hint of another culture in there, something possibly Asian. "Usa-chan! Yes, yes, I got your Rocky Road; I know you can't write about Freud without it."

Harry's interest piqued quite substantially. Sigmund Freud was the Psychology genius that the blonde girl had been reading on, the one he'd run into at the bookstore. Aside from the taste of glorious pizza, she'd been the constant in his mind since he lost her in the crowd.

"I'm checking out now, don't have a tantrum! You're uptight about Mr. Green-eyes, green sweater, aren't you? You should be, you didn't even get the guy's name!" The girl explained, bringing Harry back to earth rather abruptly. Not normally one to believe in Fate, he was starting to believe this was some kind of predestined thing.

"Excuse me," He stuttered, drawing the blonde's attention to him instantly. Her appearance resembled the bookstore girl's in a profound way; they could be twins for all he knew. Her pale blue eyes stared him down, waiting for something more. "This is going to sound crazy, but I think I know the girl you're talking to, vaguely. I met a girl in the bookstore today--"

"No way! She spilt coffee on herself, right? You offered the sweater?" At Harry's nod, she let out a high-pitched squeal that send the girl on the other end cursing loud enough for Harry to hear. "Usagi, I just ran into Mr. Green-eyes green sweater! Really! He's right behind me in the line. Talk to him, then!"

His green eyes widened as the hyperactive woman shoved her cell phone in his hand. She stared at him expectantly, until he raised the device to his ear. "Hello? You're the girl I met at the bookstore?"

"Maybe, tell me what happened and I'll decide," the voice responded over the line. Harry knew instantly it was the girl, her voice was stuck in his mind.

"Well, you spilled your coffee, and I brought you some napkins, but in the end I just made things worse. You sat in the coffee so I gave you my sweater to cover the stain. You were working on an essay or something, about Sigmund Freud." He finished, feeling rather foolish. Silence greeted him over the extension, and neither spoke for several moments.

"Wow, this is the weirdest coincidence." Her voice finally said, and she settled into silence again.

"Yeah. My name is Harry, by the way." He replied, realizing they still hadn't introduced each other yet. She chuckled, ad if she'd realized this too and thought it foolish.

"Usagi. The name is Japanese, I come from Japan," she explained, sounding quite sheepish. Annoyed, the other girl snatched her phone back.

"You guys are pitiful, really. I'm giving him our phone number, and I'll be home in ten minutes." She snapped her phone shut and turned back to the slightly dazed Harry. "My name is Minako, I'm Usagi's roomie. Our number is..."

Minako borrowed the cashier's pen and jotted the digits onto his palm. Grinning, she handed the pen back and said, "She's really stressed right now, working on a term paper due next week. Call her a week from now and you guys can go out somewhere. Selene knows that girl needs a boyfriend."

The blonde paid for her groceries, snagged the cutest bagboy to assist her, and left the store in a whirlwind. Harry blinked after her, until the cashier informed him dryly that his items needed to be on the belt before she could scan them.

The whole week crawled by like a turtle with ADD, who kept losing its way. Harry couldn't keep his mind off the girl, Usagi as he now knew, and his mounting anticipation of calling her left him exceedingly distracted. His work at the Ministry had been surprisingly uneventful, so the diversion hadn't served as a terrible hindrance, but his column suffered dry wordage and altogether indifference.

He'd received some upset letters, but they didn't really matter to him either way. Everyone couldn't be happy all the time, and he often got complaint letters for something or other. Harry preferred them to the letters commending him as a hero, the boy who lived twice over. Of these he often read the first several lines and trashed, completely disinterested.

The day a week later finally arrived, and he rushed home without stopping. He'd completely memorized the phone number by now, but he pulled out the paper he'd jotted it on just in case. His fingers jabbed over the keys, full of nervous energy. After a few seconds, the phone began to ring, and his heart beat rose dangerously. It was only two rings before someone answered.

"Hello, this is Minako!" The girl chirped, delighted that she had such a clever, rhyming greeting. Harry blinked a few times, overwhelmed by his nervousness. "Hello?"

"Ah, hello, is Usagi there?" He finally said, quickly.

"Harry! I knew you'd call today!" Minako exclaimed, her voice high and cheerful. Harry almost winced at the noise in his ear. "Usagi, dearest! You have a phone call! It's Harry of course. Yes! Here."

There was a jumble of noise on the other end of the line, and the two girls muttered at each other briefly before he finally heard the familiar voice in his ear. "Hello, this is Usagi."

"Usagi, it's me, Harry. I was wondering, if you aren't too busy, if you'd like to go out for coffee, or dinner. Nothing fancy, just to talk or whatever." Harry spoke in a rush, feeling rather stupid himself about his demeanor. Usagi said something in Japanese, he assumed it was Japanese, and Minako's voice responded in the background.

"Um...I guess I do need to return your sweater. Do you know the Starbucks...?" Usagi gave him directions, and Harry knew the place. They agreed to meet in an hour and the green eyed youth hung up his phone with an exhale of relief. Observing his wizarding robes in the nearest mirror, he decided a change was in order, and perhaps a shower.

Twenty-minutes later, Harry exited the bathroom in a pair of blue jeans, drying his messy hair with a towel. He looked through his closet, grabbing a t-shirt with his favorite muggle band's logo on the front, and threw that on as well. After spending fifteen minutes trying to tame his messy hair, he eventually gave in as always and let it go. He checked in with Hermione, making sure she hadn't driven her self crazy yet, before grabbing his car keys and setting out.

Harry arrived ten minutes early, but he spotted Usagi easily, relived she was already there too. The blonde girl stood in line, shifting her weight every few seconds with slight impatience. She'd let her hair run loose instead of putting it in a ponytail, as it had been when he first saw her. Tucked under her arm was his sweater, folded neatly. She spotted him at that moment, and waved him over.

"Hi! I thought I was a loser for showing up so early, I'm glad you're here. Here's your sweater," She shoved the garment in his hands, looking rather sheepish. Harry felt his nerves relax, something about the girl in front of him made him feel more comfortable than he had been on the phone. "I had it dry cleaned, since some of the coffee got on it, so it's good as new."

"You didn't have to do that, really. I'll pay you back." Harry protested. Usagi shook her head, laughing lightly.

"It's not like it was your fault I spilled my coffee, don't sweat it." She grinned at him, forgetting her own hesitation. Turning towards the Starbucks employee, she placed her order. "I want a French Vanilla Cappuccino, um...medium."

"And I want a medium House Blend. I'm buying." He told Usagi flatly, drawing out his wallet and producing the small amount of muggle money he kept on him all the time. The blonde looked ready to protest, but Harry brushed her off. "I invited you out, it'd be rude to make you pay. Besides, I don't think one cup of coffee is going to break me."

Harry took his change, a grin gracing his features as he winked at the blue-eyed girl. Usagi turned a slight red, rolling her eyes dramatically at him, before musing, "So chivalry isn't dead."

They took their coffee, and picked out one of the small tables to settle at. Sitting across from each other, they each sipped their coffees in silence. It took Harry several minutes to start up a conversation.

"So, how did your paper end up going?" Since neither of them had spoken since they were seated, Usagi jumped a little, startled. She took a slow sip of her coffee before answering.

"Okay, I suppose. I don't know my grade yet, but I should pass at the very least." A wry smile twisted her pink lips, as she looked into her cup pensively. She'd removed the cap so the brew could cool, the light brown substance swirling in her vision.

"You're studying psychology, right?" Harry pressed, sipping his own coffee. The blonde nodded slowly, her eyes flickering over the people seated around them. Finally she turned back towards him with a question of her own.

"I don't know anything about you, tell me something. Where do you work?" She asked, seemingly relieved to turn the subject away from herself. Harry pondered on how he should respond, since obviously he couldn't say he worked at the Ministry of Magic.

"Well, it's nothing special, just a regular nine-to-five bit. I'm looking into sports writing though." He added, trying to stay along the general truth.

"Really? What's your favorite sport?" Usagi questioned, her gaze focused solely on him now.

"Quidditch," Harry blurted. His mouth hung open a moment, agape at his own stupidity, before he quickly closed it. The blonde across from him tilted her head, ever so slightly, and arched an eyebrow.

"Quidditch? I don't think I've heard of it." She said, perplexed over the redness in Harry's face. He laughed nervously.

"Well, it's not very well known, actually. Plus it's an American sport, so it's not surprising you haven't heard of it." Usagi nodded again, apparently buying his explanation, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't realize socializing with a muggle would be so hard after being used to the company of wizards. "What about you? Do you have a job?"

"Actually no, my parents send me money monthly to live off of. I guess I'm a little spoiled, but I promised my parents an easy retirement once I become a world renowned psychologist. They're all too happy to oblige, as long as my grades stay tiptop." Usagi smiled lightly to herself as she sipped at her coffee. "My dad makes a good amount of money himself as a business mogul. He's really good at managing his money."

And so their conversation went on, until the streetlights outside started to flicker on, and they'd ordered several more rounds of coffee. Usagi tried to get Harry to try out the French Vanilla, but the raven-haired wizard insisted he didn't favor the weird tastes in his coffee. Eventually they had to give in to the late time, and the two got ready to leave accordingly. They stood outside the Starbucks, Harry clutching his sweater and Usagi holding on to her purse.

"Well, I, um, I had fun." The blonde stuttered, chuckling at herself for being so uptight. Her blue eyes jumped from her shoes up to Harry's green ones, which were a lot closer than she'd thought they would be. He planted a soft, sweet kiss on her lips before pulling back and running his tongue over his own lips.

"You were right, that French Vanilla cappuccino does taste good." He grinned, winking at her. Her face was unbearably red already, but a smile came to her face at his words.

"Well, one thing you'll learn quickly about me, Harry, is that I'm always right." Usagi's grin matched his own as she pulled him down for one more kiss. "Call me?" At Harry's nod, she smiled brightly, and turned to go. Even with few people on the streets, she disappeared down the sidewalk with ease.

"Wow, I can't believe it's been two whole years." Usagi sighed wistfully, gazing down at the familiar London streets from her bedroom window. As she turned, she caught Minako halfway through rolling her eyes, and laughed.

"I can't believe we're finally getting out of this crackerjack box apartment. Nor that you graduated the top of your class! I think Rei-chan is still recovering in the hospital from her massive heart attack." Minako giggled, and Usagi blew a raspberry at her before joining in. "Let's celebrate! You can talk about the lovey dovey stuff later, with Harry."

"Ah, the gossip queen, self-proclaimed goddess of love does not want to hear about the lovey dovey stuff? Aphrodite would be ashamed." Usagi laughed, throwing the last of her belongings in the opened trunk in the middle of the room.

"Darling, the first six months was grand but there's only so much I can take." Minako retorted, closing the lid of the trunk with her foot. The two girls laughed jovially for a few moments, before Usagi came back with, "How's it going with George, by the way?"

"Ah--" The redness on her friend's face made Usagi burst into a fit of giggles. "I still get him and Fred confused sometimes. They really are identical!"

"Yes, remember when Harry used to get the two of us confused, when he'd visit the apartment?" They grinned at each other.

"Yeah, that was before I cut my hair." It was true; Minako had cut her lengthy blonde hair into a very adorable short style, which really fit with her fashionable, cutesy personality. At least, that's how Usagi saw it. "You know, we were all worried about you after the whole thing with Mamoru. I'm really glad you found Harry."

"Yeah," The blonde whispered.

A knock at the door startled the both of them, and Usagi's eyes lit up. Minako rolled her eyes as her best friend sprinted for the door. The door opened, and the distinct sound of someone being shoved against the wall followed. "Hey, the rules say no snogging in our apartment!"

"It's not our apartment anymore!" Usagi yelled back. Minako shook her head lightly, laughing as a now ruffled Harry followed the rabbit through the bedroom door.

"I'll leave you two alone, and carry this trunk down to the car." The goddess of love grinned, dragging the trunk out of the room. Usagi turned towards Harry, giggling softly as he pulled her closer.

"Happy two year anniversary," he said, pulling something from his pocket. Usagi peered at his closed fist with interest, but when he opened the small, velvet box, she nearly collapsed. "Usagi Tsukino, will you marry me?"

Usagi stared at the ring, wide-eyed, unable to speak. Slowly, she moved her eyes from the glimmering jewelry to Harry's nervous emerald eyes. Her lips trembled, and she said, "Yes, of course."

Harry pulled the ring from its holster, and slid it on Usagi's finger. As soon as it was on, the blonde threw her arms around his neck and literally pounced on him. Their noses touched, Usagi froze, just staring in his eyes.

"I love you," she whispered, bringing their lips together, before adding, "always."

"Me too," Harry breathed, and this time as they kissed, they didn't break apart. That is, until air became an issue and Harry pulled back. He set the rabbit back on her feet, and said, "So, you up for some coffee?"

"French Vanilla?" Usagi asked, grinning up at him. Emerald eyes twinkling, Harry dipped down for another chaste kiss.

"Why, of course."

1 I know there are some colleges that provide students with laptops, but I'm not sure if the University of London does this. I couldn't find anything on their site related to it. -bows- Sorry if I'm mistaken here.

Another note, people who want a master's degree in psychology actually attend college for like 6-7 years, so that aspect of the story is inaccurate.

Well, here's my crappy little one-shot. I really rushed the ending, sorry. Feel free to hate it, or flame me, just review. If there's demand, I might write a few middle chapters to fill in a bit of those two years.

By the way, I may be taking down my fic Angel Tears. It's become tedious trying to write it. That's all.