Books were the only way I could get my mind off of Fred. I'm not sure if he had ever set foot in Hermione's sanctuary. So, my afternoons after the war were spent in the garden, reading one book or another. I was extremely careful in my selection. No war, no humor, no twins, and preferably no romance, seeing that Harry and I still hadn't spoken since the final battle. I assumed he was at Hogwarts, for besides the Burrow that was his only home, and I knew he blamed himself for Fred's death. But I don't see how being at Hogwarts would help him any. I'm pretty sure he blamed himself for all of the deaths.

There was a rustle in the grass, probably a gnome, but then there were fingers at my sides, tickling me.

"George!" I whined, but the green eyes and dark hair I saw when I rolled led me to believe it was not George.

"What Red? Is there a ghost behind me?" he grinned. I let out a small sob. "Oh Gin, what's wrong?" His long arms encompassed me and pulled me into a tight hug.

"That's what he used to call me," I cried into his shoulder. What was wrong with me? Ginevra Molly Weasley never cried. "It would always make me laugh."

"Then why don't you laugh now? He wouldn't want you to cry. Unless it was because you had been laughing too hard." He grinned as hard as he could and crossed his eyes, making the most ridiculous face I had ever seen.

"You're so weird!" I giggled. He let out a deep laugh. I could tell it had been his first one since Dumbledore's funeral. "I missed you," I whispered, afraid of his reaction. What if he really had met some veela?

He hugged me again and whispered into my ear, "I missed you more!" My response was another girlish giggle. How could he do that to me? I never giggled, I laughed. It often shook the room when I did.

"So, what are your plans for the summer, Miss Weasley?" he said in a mock formal voice.

"Oh, I was hoping to spend time with my love," I replied, imitating his tone.

"What?!?" All signs of humor were gone from his voice and his face. "Who is it? Do I know him?"

"I'm not sure; sometimes I don't even know him," I sighed. "He's extremely modest. He's had to grow up too fast, too. I don't think he's ever gotten the chance to be a kid. He's also very sweet and kind, even though he has all of the reason in the world not to be." By this time, he was looking overly depressed; it was all I could do not to laugh. "He's really into quidditch, and he's best friends with my brother."

"Lee sounds perfect for you," he sighed dejectedly.

"He's also sitting with me right now," I laughed under my breath. "He had to go away for a little while, and I was extremely scared for him, but he's back now." Wow, he still hadn't caught on. "He's really slow, too," I laughed.

"He's a really lucky guy. Well, as long as you're happy." He stood up and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. He started to walk away, but I grabbed his arm, and he froze.

"And now I'm beginning to think he's slower than his two best friends." He whipped around, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, hoping he'd finally get the hint. He took it there, nodding his head to meet my forehead. He titled my chin up gently and pressed his lips to mine. He pulled away quickly. It hadn't been the passionate reunion kiss I had imagined, but it was sweet and filled with love. It was simple, simple yet perfect. I pulled him to me in a tight hug. We stood there for an immeasurable amount of time.

"Like I said, he's a pretty lucky guy," he whispered into my ear. With that, he kissed me again. All was well.

"Took them long enough," I whispered to my best friend. We were sitting at the window overlooking the garden.

"At least it wasn't nearly seven years," she said in her signature matter-of-fact tone. It was a tone I had come to love.

"Well, if someone had accepted my invitation to the Yule Ball."

"Well, she would've if someone had asked her earlier."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"What did you say?" She eyed me carefully.

"Nothing!"

"Oh, too bad. I was going to kiss you if you had said what I thought you said."

"…"

Somewhere between

What can and can't be seen

I melt in you spring

You dusted off my wings

Your kiss upon my face

Feels like a brush with grace

Baby that's all it takes

To take me higher

If true love really does exist

It would feel as pure as this

Baby it's as if

We're dancing with angels

Stealing light from shooting stars

We're just taking what is ours

In each other's arms

We're dancing with angels

How did we find

Smooth blue in a crooked sky

Could be love winds

Gold threads through a grand design

Your whisper on my skin

Familiar healing wind

We must be slipping in

Heaven's window

If true love really does exist

It would feel as pure as this

Baby it's as if

We're dancing with angels

Stealing light from shooting stars

We're just taking what is ours

In each other's arms

We're dancing with angels

Your kiss upon my face

Feels like a brush with grace

Baby that's all it takes

To take me higher

If true love really does exist

It would feel as pure as this

Baby it's as if

We're dancing with angels

Stealing light from shooting stars

We're just taking what is ours

In each other's arms

We're dancing with angels

If true love really does exist

It would feel as pure as this

Baby it's as if

We're dancing with angels

Stealing light from shooting stars

We're just taking what is ours

In each other's arms

We're dancing with angels

A/N: Hehe… So, this was fun! I love clueless Harry; sometimes it seems like people give him too much credit for always understanding everything, but in reality, he's nearly as bad as Ron.