Disclaimer: You're all smart kids, so you know I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters there entailed. I'd also like to give credit where credit is due to the episode of Friends that bears a remarkable influence in this chapter.

Author's Note: Hey all, a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys rock. This chapter's going to be more expository, we'll see what it was that actually happened between Harry and Ginny. Here's chapter 2!

A Many Splendored Thing

Chapter 2: It's Not That Simple

For a second, Ginny was sure that she'd gone into shock. Rationally, she knew that she wouldn't've been able to hide from Harry forever, but she'd managed to go the three weeks since the incident without seeing him. Consequently, to have him show up in her family's kitchen unexpectedly was a very nasty surprise indeed.

"Ginny, hi," said Harry in an unnatural, strangled sounding voice. "I didn't know you'd be here," he said lamely, trying and failing to sound relaxed.

"Funny that, considering I live here," she replied, giving her best "fuck off" smile. For a few seconds, the four remained in silence, each waiting for someone else to break the ice.

"So Ron," began Harry at last. "How are the wedding plans going?" Visibly relieved, Ron jumped on the question, beginning to talk a mile a minute with enthusiasm Ginny hadn't thought he was capable of in this particular arena.

"Well mate, it's Hermione, isn't it? She's got it all mapped out in her head, plus written down in about four different places. She has a binder just for fabric swatches for different color combinations for the wedding party. It's madness. But then, you know how that is, I mean… oh." In another circumstance, Ginny would've laughed at her brother saying something this idiotic. Another circumstance it was not, however, and all Ginny felt was angry.

Two weeks ago, Ron had cast aside his twelve-year friendship with Harry and been all supportive brother all the time. Something, though, had recently changed his mind and he had been caught humming The Beatles' "We Can Work It Out" on more than one occasion in Ginny's presence. It was getting old quickly. This, combined with his renewed chumminess with Harry, was more than Ginny's patience could allow. Suddenly Hermione's eyes widened with horror as she looked at the clock

"Shit, Ron, we have to go! We have a cake tasting in about ten minutes!" Hermione had never been one to be frazzled, but between career and wedding plans, it was taking a little more effort for her to keep her head screwed on lately. As Hermione hugged Harry goodbye, swearing on dinner plans for the following evening, Ron mouthed "sorry" in Ginny's direction before bolting for the fireplace. Scarcely daring to believe her brother and best friend would do this to her, Ginny opened her mouth in abject shock and horror when the two disappeared from sight. They had left her alone with Harry. They hadn't spoken for three weeks, and now they thought this was a good idea.

"So…" began Harry, running his hands through his hair.

"So."

"Gin it's just us now, you can cut the crap," said Harry. Her friends and family called her by the nickname everyday of her life. So what was it about hearing Harry say it that made her feel like she couldn't breathe? With enormous effort, she brought her eyes to meet his.
"Just us, eh? Tell me. How would you define just us nowadays, anyhow?" Her eyes narrowed in a hard line.

"Ginny it's been three weeks since I've seen hide or hair of you. We need to talk about this!"

"There's nothing to say." She would be damned if she let Harry and his stupid startlingly green eyes and beautiful face and heartbreaking smile just waltz into her kitchen and act like nothing was wrong. Fuck him, she thought.

"Fine," he said, anger and regret mingling in his voice. "I'll just go then."

"Fine." Ginny looked down at the seating chart, where – to spite her – she saw her name in Hermione's neat cursive seated next to one Harry Potter. The real Harry stayed standing for another moment, but Ginny determinedly kept her head down until he finally headed for the door.

It took about a minute before Ginny realized that what she'd convinced herself was stoicism was actually closer to stupidity. No matter how little she wanted to talk to Harry, she couldn't let him walk out like that. Shoving her feet in a pair of shoes near the door, she tore off down the driveway after him.

"Harry!" Whether he hadn't heard or was ignoring her, she didn't know, but he didn't turn. "God dammit, Harry James Potter. Turn around, for God's sake." She hadn't expected him to, but by some miracle he stopped, turning to face her.

"I got the message, Ginny. I'm leaving, alright?" He sounded tired, and there were shadows on his face she didn't remember. But the resignation, the refusal to fight for her, just made Ginny angrier.

She'd spent enough time telling everyone she was alright, putting on a happy face, pretending it didn't matter that much. Avoiding Harry to avoid having to care. Being "fine, just fine", dancing through life to a chorus of "Oh Ginny you're just so strong." But she didn't want to be fine anymore; every ugly feeling she'd pushed into a box in the back of her brain pushed forward, overwhelming the rational part entirely.

"You came with an agenda. You want to talk? Let's talk. What's on your mind, Potter?" She seethed, working herself into a rhythm.

"I… it's been three weeks, Ginny! You've been avoiding me for that long. You must've been home at some point during that time, because all your things are gone, but you won't stay around long enough to see me. You haven't even let me apologize."

"Oh, yes, you're right, I'm sorry. I'll let you apologize and it'll be okay that you slept with someone else. My mistake."

"Ginny, listen, please try to see where I'm coming from! I've been out of my head for the past three weeks."

"Where you're coming from? You have no place to be coming from! You're Harry bloody Potter, the hero, the boy that can do no wrong. Guess what, Harry. This is unfamiliar territory, but you fucked up this time."

"I'm aware, thanks. You don't know what I've been through. Do you know what it's like to wake up every morning and hate the person you see? To know that however much you hurt, you made the person you love feel ten times worse? That it is one hundred percent entirely your own fault? Do you?"

"No. I know what it's like to wake up in the morning to remember that you're sleeping in your family's house because your fiancé couldn't just keep it in his pants. I know what it's like to just want to sleep all day because all the little fears in your head that say 'maybe I'm not good enough' have been confirmed. I know what it's like to be the one who must've done something wrong to get something so perfect and have it taken away." She hadn't said any of this before, not to anyone. The pain she'd convinced herself she didn't feel anymore spewed up violently, mingling with her fury and starting hot tears streaming down her face.

"Ginny, please. Please. I'm going crazy without you; I can't… I don't even know how to say how sorry I am." She wanted to be callous, to not care about him, but try as she might, she couldn't be unaffected by the sincerity in his voice. They studied one another's faces in silence, his green eyes never traveling from her brown ones. She wanted so badly to forgive and forget, but she couldn't. The whole mess was engrained too far in her memory.

-----

Ginny sat in the darkness, waiting for the sound of a door opening. Her watch read 12:15. The door creaked and she heard footsteps in the doorway.

"Happy anniversary, honey."

"What?" Asked Harry's voice, clearly disarmed by Ginny's acrid statement ringing through the darkness.

"About four hours ago, you were supposed to meet me for dinner? You know, for our two-year anniversary? Not to mention for three months after our engagement?"

"Oh, my God, Ginny. I just… I…"

"Forgot, is the word you're looking for."

"No, I got swamped at work, I mean… I never thought you – " As the lights flicked on, Ginny finally turned around.

"Oh don't you dare turn this on me."

"Ginny, listen, I'm sorry. But when you called me this afternoon you sounded so distracted, I just thought… you're just always busy now, you know? I feel like I've seen more empty glimpses of your studio through the floo than I have of you lately. How can I have a relationship with someone I only see in the twelve hours we're here together sleeping?" That stung. That really stung.

"What, so a year in you're getting cold feet?"

"That's not what I meant. I just mean that… I don't know what to do anymore, I can't remember the last time I sat down to just talk with you! I mean if you just…"

"Just what, quit my job? Give up my life to fit better with yours? You don't get it, Harry. You've been famous since you were born and I've never envied you that. But for once, I'm not "the youngest Weasley." I'm not defined by being somebody's sister, I'm not "Harry Potter's girlfriend." I'm Ginny Weasley and people know who I am for that."

"People have always known you like that…"

"No, Harry. I'm sorry, but you're wrong. I'm Ginny Weasley in the context of those around me. But not anymore, I'm doing something that I'm damn good at and that I love. And you want to give that up because you can't handle it?"

"I never said that, I wouldn't say that. But what, then? You're allowed to throw a conniption fit over one night I don't show up, but I have to keep silent about all the time I spend not seeing you? I have a career and a life too. Voldemort may be dead but it's not exactly like my job is a breeze.

"How could I forget? Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. I'm sorry, you're right, your first responsibility is to the world at large. How dare I claim that my insignificant little life compares? You are, after all, greater and smarter than I. Forgive me, oh Chosen One."

"Don't do that, Ginny, that isn't fair at all. I'm only telling you that you've set up a double standard here. I'm a little confused, I think I'm allowed that right. I want to see you, not your office. I want to talk to you, to be with you, to be near you, not to have to think about that as though it were some distant remnant!"

"And I want you to understand that I can't put my life on hold for you? What happens when we're married, Harry? I become a stay-at-home trophy wife? I smile idly because then you're never home? What?" They were screaming at one another now, each equally unwilling to budge an inch.

"You know what, Harry, you're right. I'm sorry. I completely don't understand where you're coming from. Of course. I'm always wrong."

"Don't, Ginny. I'm not saying -"

"Yeah well you're never saying. Don't tread on eggshells! Don't not say!"

"Alright, yeah, I'm angry that you're never here and I see glimpses of your face at a time. And you're going to get in my face about it the one time I do? Yeah, that makes me angry. But clearly, I'm at fault and you are right. I'm awful. I get that."

"Don't play the victim! You… look, Harry, you just don't get it this time, okay?"

"I guess I don't. I wouldn't be surprised, I feel like I don't know you now. Who knows what else I don't know." Ginny understood his implication and recoiled as though she'd been slapped.

"How dare you. I sat in a goddamn restaurant by myself for two hours thinking Merlin knows what about where you were and who you were with and you're on top of everything else going to accuse me of having an affair? Who on earth do you think I am?"

"That's not what I said."

"You didn't have to."

"What can I say to you, then? I'm the bad guy, Gin, that doesn't change. I get that at least. You're always the innocent one. Please, feel free to ignore my feelings as well."

"Fine then, don't paint me as the villain either! You were the one that started this when you couldn't be arsed to show up for dinner on our anniversary. Two years. It's been two years and you're just now showing your true colors. You know what? I don't even want to hear what you have to say until you've figured out I'm not some helpless little doll. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Fine. Walk away. I told you, Ginny, I'm wrong. That's easy, isn't it? God forbid I think that when I asked you to marry me we'd actually see one another. I have all these expectations, I guess."
"Forget it. I'm not going to deal with this right now." In a fit of melodrama uncharacteristic of her even at her angriest, she grabbed her purse and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

She fell asleep at the Burrow angry, but woke up guilty. Lying in bed, she thought over the argument, embarrassed at how immature she must've sounded. She suddenly wished very much she'd woken up next to Harry, rather than alone, so that she could roll over and apologize for the whole thing.

Flooing into Diagon Alley, she went over in her head that she would just explain the whole issue and it'd be done with, forgotten. They could have lunch today, making up for yesterday's dinner, and it would all be over. She didn't know why she was nervous on the walk back to their flat, but a ridiculous argument over nothing will do that.

The first sign that something was not right was the unlocked front door. Edging carefully and quietly inside the flat, the entirely empty bottle of Firewhiskey on the coffee table combined this suspicion. Convincing herself that this surely was entirely coincidental, she continued on through the apartment. It was early still, so she figured her best bet would be to climb in bed with Harry, to wake him up to her apology.

But when she opened the door, it became clear someone else had already had that idea. Harry was still asleep (with another unidentified, empty liquor bottle by the bed), but wasn't alone. Sheets askew, Harry was tangled with an unidentified, gorgeous brunette who was equally passed out asleep.

For a few seconds, Ginny couldn't breathe – it was as though this was simply too much for something as simple as her eyes to take in. But the longer she stood there, the clearer it became that this was not some horrible optical illusion. The awful truth was exactly as she saw it – her prince was really just another frog.

-----

She knew by the look in his eyes that he knew what she was thinking, but he'd never say. She knew, the way you always do about someone you're so familiar with, that he was humiliated and did feel guilty. But it didn't change what he'd done, it didn't make it go away.

"Ginny, I'm so, so, sorry. If you think I've ruined your life believe me it's nothing to what I've done to my own. I would never have done what I did if I figured we even still had a relationship – I'd never seen you so mad at me," he pleaded, on the verge of tears himself. Slowly and carefully, he wrapped his arms around her back, and kissed her gently. Ginny wanted nothing more than to give in, but she couldn't. It wasn't that simple.

"No! No, you can't just… just say that, just kiss me, just expect this to all go away! It's not that easy, Harry. It doesn't work that way. I'm sorry too; sorry that I even provoked the fight in the first place. But you can't expect me to just let you kiss me, let you tell me you're sorry and now it's done. I thought you were the only person that would never, ever hurt me. But now I can't see you the same way, I can't just forget and let it go. You… you're a different person to me now." It was too much; she couldn't take it anymore. The reasonable, rational approach she'd taken to being hurt had failed as the rest of her hurt welled to the surface. Looking up at him once more, her eyes stung with tears and she turned away, walking back into the Burrow with every ounce of strength it kept to stop herself from falling apart.

It only took an instant for it to all fall apart. But putting it back together wouldn't be nearly as easy.