Another Dance
Fingers pressed on strings. Bows struck violins with a tender force. Air blew through brass instruments. One wouldn’t have thought these simple things “ the friction of unicorn hair on a string, fingers pushed on keys “ could have produced such a lovely sound. But they did.
This music played softly in the background; it was the tinkle of happiness and joy. There was no war at the time. There was no Voldemort; Dumbledore was not dead, and the world was not upside down. Music and dancers were the only thing in the world.
Fleur and Bill Weasley moved closely together, one another’s eyes the only thing in the universe. Molly and Arthur Weasley were also in each other’s arms. Arthur whispered in his wife’s ear, making her blush crimson. Even Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were dancing, a tranquil look of happiness etched on both of their faces. It was a night of romance for all the Weasleys.
Well, all except for one. Ginny Weasley wasn’t dancing. She wasn’t smiling or talking. Everyone at her table was on the dance floor. Even Fred and George. They enjoyed the faster songs more, saying that they were “better to get your grove on to,” but stuck out one slow dance.
Ginny just watched the couples longingly. There was something about a wedding that made a person want love and romance. It was no different for her.
She understood his reasoning, but it didn’t stop the want to be in the arms of the one she cared for. This person was Harry Potter. He was the one person she had always wanted, the one person she was happy with, the one person she wanted to dance with…
So, with celerity, Ginny stood and waltzed her way across the dance floor to where he sat. Harry had danced with a few people, Auntie Muriel being his number one contender, but had mostly observed.
“Wanna dance?” Ginny asked casually.
He looked up at her. His raven hair was messed, as usual, but there was no stopping that. His face was handsome and his bright green eyes shined. He seemed happy, and for once, almost carefree.
When his eyes met hers, there was a hint of adoration. If one wasn’t looking, he might miss it. But it was there nonetheless. It was that small glimmer of something more than friendship. The slight look of happiness when reminded of her audacity and nerve. It was the extra sparkle in his eyes, the laughter in his heart upon hearing her name.
But, for a moment, Harry still looked unsure. He wasn’t positive that dancing with Ginny would be a wise decision. He didn’t want to instill any ideas in her. But most of all, he didn’t want to encourage any within himself.
“Come on,” Ginny urged with a grin.
Harry smiled too. “Okay. But I’m not very good. And you can’t blame me when your toes are swollen, because you’ve been warned.”
“I’ll take my chances,” she responded, chuckling and walking onto the dance floor with Harry.
The music floated through the warm August air and muffled the sound of the crickets singing. Above their heads were a million winking stars and the shining crescent moon. It couldn’t have been a more perfect night.
There was a tender breeze, which tickled Ginny’s face and blew her long, red hair back just enough to cool her.
She draped her arms around Harry’s neck and he put his arms around her waist, keeping a fair distance between them. They were not together and he didn’t want to get too close. He was nothing more than friends with Ginny and intended to keep it that way.
They swayed to the rhythm of the music, slowly turning and moving. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at her mother’s laugh, which rang through the night air. She hoped that her future husband still made her giggle like a schoolgirl years after marriage.
Harry avoided looking at Ginny. Friends, just friends, he stated over and over again in his mind. He didn’t want to harbor any other ideas and he knew he would if he looked at her. Harry would begin to think of the way the moonlight made her red hair shine, how her eyes glowed when she smiled, or how strangely attractive he found her eyelashes.
He would remember the way her lips felt against his own and how her hand fit his just right. He didn’t want to think about how amazing she looked in the gold dress, or his desire to brush a lock of her silky hair out of her face.
But Harry did and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t want to. That night, he wanted to dance with Ginny under the stars and think about how he liked her better without the makeup and dress. How he thought her just as pretty after a Quidditch game “ sweaty and a mess. Harry wanted to memorize the sound of her laugh and the warmth of her smile.
He needed to remember the way she felt in his arms. He knew that there was a long and difficult journey ahead of him. And for that reason, he pulled Ginny closer.
That moment was one of bliss for Ginny. Everyone she loved was near. She was tightly wrapped in the arms of the one she loved. He was alive, out of immediate danger and with her. She knew that for the next few months, or even years, she wouldn’t know how Harry was. She would be left wondering and worrying, never knowing if he was well or how he felt.
But in that instant, Harry’s attention was on her. And Ginny allowed her mind to meander. She let herself think of spending the rest of her life with Harry, whether it would happen or not. She accepted the images and hopes of a family and white-picket fence with him. She let these ideas in, for tomorrow, she knew that her only hope would be that the ones she cared about made it through the war alive.
“You know,” Harry said, surprising her by whispering in her ear. “I quite like dancing with you.” His breath tickled her skin, causing a shiver to run down her spine and goosebumps to erupt on her arms. “Thank you for asking me.”
Ginny didn’t answer; instead she pressed her lips against his for a moment. It wasn’t a kiss that dripped in want or hope. It wasn’t full of passion; well it was, but not the passion of a lover. It was a farewell kiss, a kiss wishing him luck and bidding him goodbye. She didn’t expect anything back; she didn’t expect him to change his mind about where they stood.
“You’ll wait for me then, Ginny?” Harry asked. They had stopped moving and looked into each other’s eyes. Harry took Ginny’s hands in his own and his eyes were intense.
She smiled. “Yes.” The word never sounded so sweet.
“I understand if you don’t want to. You’ll be at school with other guys, Dean even. And you shouldn’t have to wait for me. You should be free,” Harry went off. “It’d probably be better for you. You should be happy. I don’t want you worrying.”
“Harry,” Ginny interrupted softly, placing a hand on his cheek. He stopped rambling and looked at her.
“I’ll worry anyway. My whole family is in the Order. Ron will be with you; he’s my brother, remember?” She smiled, her eyes radiant looking at him. Harry was asking her to wait for him!
“And I don’t want Dean or anyone else.” He searched her eyes for confirmation. To this, Ginny tilted her head, giving a small nod. It was true. She didn’t want anyone else. “Harry,” she whispered. “It’s always been you. I’d wait forever.”
“Good,” he answered after the words sank in, a smile playing on his lips.
He pulled Ginny back into his arms, closer this time, so he could feel her heartbeat. It was steady and rhythmic… It was that heartbeat “ that heart “ that would keep his own going. Harry had Ginny to return to and that return would be what he lived for. He would stay alive for another dance with Ginny…another kiss… another day…