AN: So, this is the last chapter. Thanks for reading, and please review.

I can't say I really like this chapter, or how I ended it (it just doesn't feel right), but hopefully you do. :) Tell me what you think.

Let me know if you see any mistakes.

Harry couldn't sleep; he kept replaying the days events over and over again in his mind. After Ginny ran away from him, almost in tears, he did not know what to do. He spent the rest of the day in a haze, unable to think clearly and unsure about how to act. Ginny was fervently avoiding him, and Harry wasn't sure whether to be glad or annoyed at this fact. He knew it would be awkward, but it was also uncomfortable not talking to each other.

Harry knew he had to do something; it was obvious he had messed up, and he couldn't stand the thought of things continuing this way with Ginny. If only he could remember...

Just as Harry was about to drift off to sleep, an image flashed through his mind...Ginny's bright red hair stood out in the night, and he was sitting next to her on the grass..

His words flew through his mind before he could grasp them...something about her hair, and her freckles...what had he said? It was like a dream that was slipping away...something about wishing he could count of all of the freckles on her body...

Harry sat up with a start. He couldn't have said that to her, could he? No, maybe that was just a realistic dream...although he could help but think that he had said those words to Ginny...

He couldn't stand the thought of not knowing. He needed to talk to Ginny. He thought briefly about waiting until morning, but this seemed too important. Another minute spend waiting would only add to the confusion.

As quietly as he could, Harry got out of bed and hurried to the door. If Ron woke up, Harry knew he would have a hard time explaining why he was sneaking into Ginny's room this late at night...

As he arrived at her door, he began to doubt his decision.

He didn't even know how Ginny had reacted last night. What if, after he practically ask to count her freckles, she had slapped him or something? This would just embarrass him further.

Without further thought, Harry softly pushed open the door. It was too dark to see anything, but Harry could make out the outline of her bed across the room. Soon enough, he was next to her bed, and Ginny was still asleep.

How was he going to do this? Should he wake her up? He didn't even know what he was going to say to her when he did...this idea seems to get worse and worse as time went by.

Ginny seemed to sense his presence in the room. Her eyes slowly opened, and she turned to look at him.

"Harry?" Her voice was soft and she seemed to still be half asleep.

Still not knowing what to do, he knelt beside her bed and leaned closer to her.

"Ginny," he began. "I'm really sorry to wake you, but I think we need to talk and it can't wait..."

She seemed to realize just then that this wasn't part of a dream. She bolted upright, and her wide eyes rested on Harry.

"Uh, sure Harry." She still seemed uncertain that he was really in her room. "What do you want to talk about?"

It sounded silly even to her; they both knew, of course. It had been on both their minds since it had happened.

"Ginny," he started again, whispering. "I just want to apologize first, before we even talk. I hardly remember anything, but that's not an excuse. So I'm sorry."

"Just how much do you remember, Harry?"

Harry blushed at this; he knew that he needed to tell her what he recalled, but he wasn't even sure if it hadn't been merely a dream about her..."

"Well," he tried to keep his voice level. "All I remember if talking to you in the garden..."

Ginny stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"...and I do remember talking about your freckles...something about counting them, I think...did that actually happen?" It sounded ridiculous even to Harry's ears.

Ginny took in a sharp breath.

"Yes."

Harry groaned quietly. He didn't want her to know his thoughts...he regretted more than ever drinking with Fred and George...

"...that's not all, Harry." Ginny couldn't seem to look him in the eye even in the darkness of her room. She motioned to the bed, giving him permission to sit down. "Do you want to know what happened?"

"Yes, of course I do." Harry needed to know everything he had done, so he could move on from his mistakes.

"Okay, well I guess I'll start from the beginning..." Harry could tell Ginny wanted to tell this story just about as much as he wanted to hear it.

"I was sitting in the garden, and you came stumbling over..." Ginny smiled despite herself. "First, you called me by my real name, which I didn't even realize you knew." She laughed softly.

As she remembered what happened next, Ginny grew more uncomfortable.

Sensing this, Harry spoke up: "Ginny, please tell me. I really need to know this, I can't keep questioning what I did."

Nodding, Ginny continued.

"And then you said that it was a pretty name, and that it suited me, because – well, you said because I was pretty. 'Beautiful, actually' was how you worded it."

Harry blushed even deeper. It was so embarrassing, hearing his words repeated at him like this. And he found that tonight, they were still true to him. Ginny was beautiful.

Ginny sighed and started talking again. "You were clearly drunk, but you just couldn't stop talking, Harry. You went on to compliment my hair, and then you actually ran your hands through it. You're lucky I didn't slap you."

Harry tried to laugh, but he couldn't find much humor in the situation. It was humiliating, to be honest.

"And then, yes, you moved on to my freckles. You promised, that um – that some day you would count them all." Ginny's blush was almost as deep as Harry's now – it didn't help that Harry seemed to be moving closer to her with every word she spoke, clearly unconsciously.

"God, Ginny, I am so sorry." Harry felt truly ashamed at how he had acted that night; he made a vow never to touch Fire-whiskey again.

"It's not over yet." She grinned ruefully at him. The truth was, even though she was embarrassed beyond belief at retelling this, she was curious as to how Harry would react when she was done.

After that," she went on. "You, uh, focused on my lips. You traced them with your finger and then..." She stopped, unsure about how to tell him the next part.

"Please continue, Ginny." Harry was now directly facing her, looking ashamed but interested about what she was saying.

"...and then you kissed me, Harry."

Harry groaned again, but before he could apologize, Ginny continued.

"But it's not all your fault, really. I let you, and I responded, and things just got out of control. I shouldn't have let it go that far, Harry. I wasn't the drunk one."

Harry didn't respond; he simply stared at her, unable to bring his thoughts into words. He couldn't believe that his first kiss with Ginny was when he was too drunk to remember any of it.

Ginny's voice brought him back to reality.

"Harry," she said, almost too quietly. "There's just one thing I need to know..."

"Anything. I owe you as much."

"I need to know how much of that was the alcohol talking, and how much of it was you." She seemed to regret the words as soon as she spoke them.

Harry realized that this was his one chance to tell her everything. It was her right to know, after everything he had put her through recently.

"Well," he began. "the alcohol had its effects, obviously --"

Ginny's face fell immediately.

"...I mean, I was quite forward, wasn't I?"

She quietly laughed and nodded, though she still seemed sad.

"But, uh," Harry laughed nervously. "I wasn't lying at all. Honestly, I meant everything I said."

Ginny felt light headed and giddy.

"Even the part about counting my freckles?"

"Especially that part." Harry was just glad that she hadn't hit him yet, or run away again. He smiled uncertainly at her.

They were sitting so close now that their knees were overlapping on the bed. They were holding hands as well – Harry didn't know whether he had initiated this or not; their entire conversation was blurry and Harry couldn't believe it had actually happened.

Ginny was looking at him expectantly. He grinned at her and leaned forward, their lips touching almost too gently before he moved closer to her. His hands found their way to her hair, tangling them in it as he deepened that kiss. Soon, they were laying back on her bed, and Harry's hands were once again pushing up the material of her shirt as his hands felt the soft skin of her stomach. Ginny moaned into his mouth, and the sound was so arousing that Harry knew he had to stop before he couldn't...

"Ginny?" His voice sounded gruff to his own ears, and it felt hard to breath.

"Hmm?" She looked dazed, with a small smile on her face. Her hair was spread out all around her, looking messy and amazing...her eyes were darker than their normal light brown, and the buttons on her top had somehow come undone in the frenzy...

"You have about 11 freckles just on your nose."