Harry gazed sadly at the picture again. Seeing the happy expressions on his parents’ faces, knowing at that time they had no idea what their life held in store for them, he felt a deep sense of sorrow begin to stir in his heart.
He found his attention wandering to Sirius. Harry forgot just how good-looking Sirius had been before Azkaban had worn down and deadened the vibrant man that he had once been. In many respects he had been better looking than James. He had that touch of danger about him that women had found irresistible.
Harry had learned that much from conversations with Sirius and with Lupin. Lupin used to tease Sirius about being such a hit with the ladies. Sirius used to laugh it off, but couldn’t seem to deny it outright.
Harry could see why. The Raven-haired girl was looking at Sirius with a mixture of amusement and attraction. Harry could see she was having trouble tearing her eyes away from his, to gaze out of the picture at Harry. Harry watched Sirius dip his head and whisper something in her ear, his lips grazing her cheek. She closed her eyes slightly as she leaned back into him.
Harry had no idea who this woman could have been. He assumed that it was just a girlfriend that Sirius had acquired when he was in his late teens. It was a relationship that probably hadn’t lasted. He may have been incredibly good looking but Sirius was also incredibly pig headed and independent as a teenager. Lupin had confided that while girls had adored Sirius, he never seemed to want to keep anyone too close, and most relationships he had were intense but short lived, usually ending with yet another female broken heart.
Harry turned his attention to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Hermione and Ginny seemed to be deep in conversation while Ron was slightly distanced from them, leaning against a tree watching them.
Harry studied Ron’s countenance for a moment, and suddenly noticed something about his expression. Unaware that he was being watched, Ron in the picture gazed at Hermione seated near him. In this unguarded moment, Harry could read the love and protectiveness in Ron’s eyes as he watched Hermione laughing and chatting with Ginny. ‘So,’ Harry mused, ‘it would appear that this Ron does indeed have feelings for Hemione, and it looks like it could be a little more than a crush from what his face is telling me.’
Sighing, Harry stood up from his bed and replaced the picture under his pillow, with one last look at his parents. It made him too sad watching them innocently laugh and enjoy life. His heart felt heavy once again. Too much grief and worry seemed to weigh heavily upon his thin, young frame.
His eyes dulled as his head filled with thoughts of what he had lost and what he now faced in his future. He paused before the bedroom door, his eyes downcast, wondering yet again how he was supposed to achieve what was in store for him. After all he was just a boy, a mere teenager. How on earth was he supposed to face and kill a wizard with the magical abilities of Dumbledore coupled with knowledge of Black Magic that even Dumbledore could not master.
The door to the bedroom creaked open and Ginny stood there. She had gone looking for Harry to tell him that if he wanted any breakfast he would need to get downstairs ASAP. She stood there silently.
Harry hadn’t seemed to notice her presence. Ginny stood there momentarily silenced by the wearied and saddened look that Harry wore. There was just such a well of grief evident in his eyes. Something that Ginny hadn’t ever noticed there before. She hadn’t thought about just how much effort Harry made in keeping up a neutral front.
She knew she was seeing what was really going on in his head and his heart at that moment. She was afraid to disturb it, worried that any attempt she might make at words of comfort would just sound like teenage mumblings and would only serve to embarrass both Harry and herself.
Instead she quietly approached him and ignoring her quaking will and the blush creeping up her face, she reached out her hand, taking one of Harry’s in her own.
She gazed down at his fingers in her hand. They offered no resistance, neither pulling away nor entwining with hers.
Harry seemed unable to raise his eyes to hers. He gazed at the smaller hand holding his and felt it give his fingers a brief squeeze. Taking a shuddering breath, he raised his eyes to Ginny’s face. She was still staring at their hands. With his free hand, he raised it to her chin, gently forcing her to raise her head so that their eyes met.
For a brief moment they stood like that, brown staring into green. Ginny reading the pain that showed there, Harry registering the worry that rested in Ginny’s. He slowly leaned towards her. She could feel his warm breath against her cheek. They were too close to continue eye contact.
She sensed Harry’s eyes move down to her slightly parted lips. She moved closer to him, so that there was only the slightest space remained between them. Harry let instinct guide him. Closing the hair’s breadth of space between them, Harry brushed his lips against hers in the lightest and slowest of kisses.
Ginny found she was holding her breath. She found the strangest sensations course through her. It was pure attraction. A kind of animal magnetism that took her breath away and made her feel dizzy with its intensity. In the milliseconds that Harry’s lips brushed against hers, she was lost.
The abruptness of how the moment ended was shocking. Her eyes still closed, she heard a sharp intake of breath from Harry and felt his fingers pull away from hers. The warmth that had seemed to envelope her dissipated and her eyes flew open as she felt Harry move away from her suddenly. He stood there staring at her in shock, then backed away slowly before turning and bolting out the door.