“I’m going to bed now.”



It wasn’t really what it sounded like, but Harry suspected it was what Ron had said around that enormous yawn.



“Yeah, I’ll be up in a minute,” said Harry tiredly. He was on the carpet, his back supported by two cushions.



The fact that Ron didn’t question Harry showed the toll Quidditch practice had taken on him. The red-headed boy just shrugged and climbed up the stairs, tripping twice on his own feet.



Harry leaned more comfortably against the cushions and gazed at the fire. As tired as he was, he didn’t feel like sleeping. His head was filled with too many thoughts it seemed. And it also seemed they revolved either around Malfoy, Voldemort, or Ginny.



He smiled a bit. Tonight he could give himself a break and think only of Ginny. Not that these thoughts were calming, though. His dilemma persisted, but since Ginny and Dean’s break-up, he was more and more inclined to take a chance. He still worried about Ron’s reaction, though. He just couldn’t help it.



Harry heard the sound of footsteps and tensed a little. He could use some time alone. He kept staring into the fire until tiny feet planted themselves in front of him and his view of the fireplace was replaced by white.



“Hi.”



He looked up to see none other than Ginny Weasley. Her hair was cutely mussed and she wore a long white nightgown that reached her ankles. The best of all was that she was smiling down at him.



He smiled back at her. Scratch that being alone part, he thought. He simply asked, “Couldn’t sleep?”



She shook her head and sat beside him. He moved over slightly in case she wanted to share the cushions with him, but not really thinking she would notice his silent offer. He was pleasantly surprised when she not only noticed, but accepted it.



So there they were, cushion-sharing. Harry could feel that his right arm was very much aware that Ginny’s left arm was next to it. His right hand too, for that matter. And it seemed that it wanted to hold Ginny’s left hand.



I could just do it, he thought. This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. Curiously and conveniently, Ron was not an issue right now.



But Ginny’s voice interrupted his pep-talk.



“Are you ready to face Cho in the next game?”



Huh?



Okay, now he knew that hand-holding impulses must be a foreboding of dangerous questions and potentially disastrous answers. He remembered all too well the episode involving him and Cho at Madam Puddifoot’s. Maybe he should have a talk with Professor Trelawney. It seemed his Inner Eye wasn’t so myopic after all.



He turned to look at Ginny. She was lying on her side, both hands cupped under her cheek and chocolate eyes watching him.



“Why would I not be ready? What’s to be ready for anyway?”



He hoped he sounded just bewildered and not irritated.



Ginny just shrugged.



“Well, you two dated and things went bad… but you didn’t really have a break-up…”



“Break-up?” he repeated rather dumbly.



She sighed. “Yes, Harry, break-up. Something like ‘Well, I guess this is it, but I hope we can still be friends…’”



“Is that what you told Dean?” he interrupted her.



She went on as if he hadn’t asked her, “… or something like that. You see, you both never made sure it was over…”



“I guess the fact that she could barely look at me assured me it was over…” he interrupted her again.



And once again she was oblivious to him, “… and there is a possibility that you could get together again. I mean, I don’t think she’s dating Michael. You can’t ignore each other in the game. You’re even going to watch each other’s moves…”



“Look, Ginny, I don’t fancy Cho anymore.”



That stopped her. She blinked and paused. He knew she was trying to formulate a question and he was hoping it was something in the lines of “And who do you fancy now?” because then he would have the opportunity to tell her.



But she never asked. She just looked at him. He was surprised to notice she seemed sad. Unbidden, a really ugly conclusion came to his mind. If Ginny was sad about his not fancying Cho, than she felt nothing for him anymore. For the first time, he realized that he had assumed her old crush on him would just reappear once Dean was out of the picture. He never suspected that he might as well not be an option for her anymore.



It was a very disturbing thought indeed.



“It’s just… well you seemed to like her so much… how could it just go away?” She sounded puzzled. It seemed an important question to her, because she was looking very intently at him.



This definitely isn’t a conversation I want to have with you, Harry thought. He turned his gaze back to the fire and considered saying good-night. When he looked at Ginny again, though, it occurred to him that even if she didn’t fancy him anymore, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t try to win her back. He had no idea how to do it; he was even more unsure if he could do it, but the idea prevented him from heading to the dormitory.



Apparently he had taken too long to answer, for Ginny sighed and made as if she was going to get up. He decided that opening up to her was a good price to pay for her company.



“I guess I didn’t like her so much after all… and it didn’t go away just like that… it just… gradually went away.”



She nodded but kept silent. She started to play with her hair, curling it around her finger.



He chanced a question of his own.



“Wasn’t it like this for you and Dean? You know, sort of gradually…?”



Ginny went still.



“For Dean and I, yes,” she answered slowly.



He had the crazy feeling that she had kept the rest of that sentence to herself. Crazier still, was the hope that bloomed in his chest and made him warm all over. Maybe, just maybe, behind those words she meant something like, “It gradually went away for Dean and I, but not for you and me.”



Careful, he warned, there’s still Michael Corner.



“And with Michael Corner?”



She made a face. “He’s a git.” She got up, went to the fireplace and added more logs. He had never noticed the light had dimmed and that it felt colder. Ginny turned and walked back to him. As the fire crackled from behind her, Harry became acutely aware of how thin Ginny’s nightgown was. He could see her silhouette outlined by the firelight and he quickly lowered his eyes. Not that it mattered much. He figured Ginny’s curves weren’t going to be forgettable.



He tensed when she sat beside him again. She didn’t lie back on the cushions, opting instead to hug her knees. Harry kept his eyes trained on her hair. He knew what he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t bear to make her uncomfortable. So he bravely decided that he was going to do it. He was going to take the next step.



He sat up and looked at her profile.



“You know…” he croaked and cleared his throat, “I… I kind of hoped you were going to ask me who I fancy now.”



She turned her head to him. He smiled slightly at her and it seemed to soften her a little.



Still looking at Harry, she rested her head on her knees.



“Why would you hope I asked you that?”



“Because then I could truthfully tell you that I fancy you, Ginny.”



Ginny sucked in her breath and faced Harry fully. He was surprised when he discovered he wasn’t nervous at all. He waited and held her gaze. Ginny must have found what she was looking for in his eyes, because a slow, and never more beautiful smile graced her lips.



“And your break-up with me…” he started to ask.



“We never dated, Harry, so obviously there was no break-up,” she interrupted him still smiling.



He looked at her amusedly, “Oh… okay, your break-up with your crush on me then. How was it?”



She became serious, but her eyes were as soft as everything on her seemed to be right then. “Well, I never really broke up with that crush, you know.”



He grinned at her, relieved, and she smiled once more. He felt elated. This surely was one moment to be remembered when conjuring a Patronus. His eyes moved over her face and came to rest on her lips. This time it was Harry who became serious when a thrill of anticipation ran through him.



It wasn’t as if he had any choice really. He discovered that his mouth was very eager to be in contact with Ginny’s lips. Who could possibly say no to that? So in one swift movement Harry’s mouth crossed the space between them and captured Ginny’s lips.



And they never complained.









Thanks dreatonkslupin for beta-reading it!