Chapter 3

Ginny awoke the next morning to blinding sunlight filtering through her blinds. She rolled over, muttering a few curses, as she tried to go back to sleep. Her eyes shot open when she realized she wasn't the only person lying in the bed.

Ginny jumped back from Harry, quicker than lightning, clutching the sheets tightly around her chest. He laughed softly.

"There's no need to cover yourself up," he said, slightly amused, "I've already seen everything." Ginny grabbed one of the sheets off the bed, and wrapped it around her, making sure nothing was exposed.

"Where're you going?" Harry asked.

"To take a shower." Ginny snapped, and quickly left the room. She needed some time to think. What had happened between them last night? She and Harry and been apart for four, almost five years! Where did all this..built up passion come from? Ginny shook her head. She was still trying to wash off the feeling of Harry's hands softly tracing along her skin. It just could *not* be possible that she still loved him.

About twenty minutes later, Ginny ventured into the kitchen, her hair still partially wet and hanging around her shoulders. Harry was sitting at her table, eating a piece of toast and reading the Daily Prophet. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Morning to you too, sunshine," Harry said sarcastically. Ginny quickly grabbed her bag off of a chair, swung it over her shoulder and started toward the door. "Where do you think you're going?" Harry asked. "To work," Ginny said, a bite of anger in her voice. "And you should be going somewhere too." "I take it your kicking me out?" Harry said, a sly smile on his face, "Well, I can take a hint," and with that, he grabbed his jacket, and slipped through the door, but not before giving Ginny a small wink. Ginny rolled her eyes again, and disapparated.

The rest of the day, Ginny did quite a bit of thinking. *Did* she still love Harry? And did he still love her? There was still that warm wonderful feeling in his kiss of sweetly drowning, and that smile that still made her stomach do flip-flops and- no. She and Harry were OVER. Get that through your head she thought to herself.

Meanwhile, Harry was having some difficult thoughts of his own.

What was all that last night Harry thought to himself. Do I still love her? There's no possible way all that.passion could have come from just nowhere. That amazing feeling of being next to her, how soft her skin is.that must be it. I *do* still love her. There's no other explanation for all this!

And with that he had come to his final conclusion.