Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, not me. Although I wish I was genius enough to take credit for it.
Night had descended upon Hogwarts just as it had every day. Besides the gentle waves of the lake and distance sounds of creatures from the Forbidden Forest, the grounds lay still and quiet. The lights from the castle could be seen from miles away as the students inhabiting it were preparing for their return home.
In the castle, in a tower on the north side, was a girl sitting on a windowsill watching a boy on the Quiddich Field flying amiss the still of night.
"Is he still out there?" Ginny was immediately broken out of her revelry and she turned to look at Hermione who looked both exasperated and worried at the same time. "It has been almost four hours. I know it is our last day, but really, he's got a long day ahead of him."
"He's also got a lot on his mind, Hermione." Ginny said, with a small sigh. "But you're right. He has been out there too long. I'll go get him." And with that she jumped down from the windowsill and made her way to the 7th year boys' dormitory, presumably to retrieve an invisibility cloak from Harry's trunk.
Hermione was going to protest and insist that she be the one to get Harry. After all, she was Head Girl and she could get away with wandering the grounds past curfew without breaking any rules. In any case, she stopped herself. If she had learned anything in her seven-year duration at Hogwarts, it is that some rules were made to be broken. She watched as the boys dormitory door seemingly opened and closed on its own and then the portrait hole do the same a few seconds later. If anyone was going to get Harry back upstairs it was going to be Ginny.
Harry Potter had been outside riding his Firebolt since the leaving feast. At first, he relived his greatest moments on the Quiddich Field. He remembered his first time on a broom, saving Neville's Remembrall. He remembered the butterflies in his stomach before his first game. He remembered being named Captain. He remembered catching the snitch to win the Quiddich Cup his third, sixth, and seventh year.
Unfortunately, he also remembered being singled out by Dobby's bludger in his second year, watching his friends play instead of playing himself in his fifth year, and the Dementor attack his third year, resulting in the loss of his first broom. That memory led to a series of other haunting memories: nearly being kissed by a Dementor, Voldemort attached to the back of Quirrell's head, crashing Mr. Weasley's flying car, the Basilisk, Ginny lying on the Chamber floor (Harry gave an involuntary shudder), the Death Eater attack at the World Cup, Cedric's body dropping to the floor, Voldemort resurrected from Harry's own blood, the snake biting Mr. Weasley, the Department of Mysteries, Sirius falling through the Veil, being told the prophecy about himself, watching Hagrid die in agony, the Cruciatus Curse, and a hundred other things that would make anyone else wonder how he sleeps at night.
He tried to balance it out with other good memories: meeting Ron, saving Hermione, getting to know his father's best friends, getting past a dragon, testing out Fred and George's inventions, D.A. meetings, Neville, Luna, and Gi…
It was then that he finally noticed a petit redhead staring up at him from below. Harry knew that he had probably been out too long, but that didn't mean he wanted to go back inside. Tomorrow he would finally leave the safety of Hogwarts for a destiny waiting to be fulfilled. He made his way down toward her, ready to give her an excuse.
"Gin," he began, "I know it's late, but I just want, no I need, to clear my head for tomorrow. I know what you're going to say, its just, I need," he paused, trying to articulate what he was feeling, "to fly," he added lamely.
She looked at him for a few moments, before replying with a simple "Okay."
Harry just stared at her. He expected a long and hard fight. After all, Ginny was stubborn, and he was determined to keep flying. "Really?" he asked, flabbergasted.
"Sure," she replied, with a smile. "Can I go with you?"
Harry had not expected that. After another flabbergasted pause, his first instinct was to say no, but then he thought about it and realized that while he just wanted to fly, it didn't mean that he wanted to be alone. He looked at Ginny. He could tell that she regretted asking him by the way she was biting her bottom lip, but at the same time she had these hopeful eyes that were silently begging him to say yes. All of a sudden, he realized that he desperately wanted to fly with her. "Okay," he said, scooting forward, "hop on."
She happily obliged and got in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. When they were both secure on the broom, Ginny instinctively tightened her arms around him as they ascended into the sky. At this touch, Harry felt a lurch in his stomach.
They passed a few moments lazily flying around the field, enjoying the wind around them and the feel of their bodies pressed up against each other, though neither would ever admit to this. Harry allowed himself the luxury of closing his eyes for a few seconds and concentrating on how good her warm breath feels on the back of his neck.
Over the past few years, the relationship between Harry and Ginny had changed significantly. Long gone were the days of singing valentines or elbows in the butter dish. In Harry's fifth year, she had finally stopped idolizing him. That gave way to his growing respect for her. Without her constant blushing, he found that she could be as cool as Bill, great with animals like Charlie, dedicated like Percy, as creative as Fred and George, and as loyal as Ron, but with a distinct femininity, grace, and charm all her own. Not to mention she was a goddess on the Quiddich field.
By the end of his sixth year, Harry considered Ginny to be as great of a friend as Ron or Hermione. How could she not be after all they've been through together? Unlike Luna or Neville, she understood Harry's relationship with Sirius, she too lived at Headquarters, she too understood what it was like to have everyone you love risking their lives everyday, and most importantly, she too knew all too well what it was like to have Voldemort control your life. And in some ways, she outshone Ron or Hermione. For one thing, she had this uncanny ability to read Harry. She could predict his actions just as accurately as Hermione, but unlike Hermione, Harry wouldn't get defensive when Ginny called him out. And sometimes Ron backs down from a confrontation with Harry, even though Harry sometimes needs it. Harry clearly remembers the first time he was humbled by Ginny Weasley:
"Well, that was a bit stupid of you," said Ginny angrily, "seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."
"I forgot," Harry said.
"Lucky you," Ginny said coolly.
There was also the little fact that Harry saw Ginny much differently than he saw anyone else. He thought Hermione beautiful in brotherly sort of way. Hermione was like his sister, but Ginny…well, Ginny was Ron's sister. And obviously, Harry wasn't enchanted by the shades of red in Ron's hair. Harry was physically attracted to Ginny. He was so physically attracted to her that sometimes it hurt. It was much more intense than his attraction towards Cho because he could see so much more of Ginny than her physical beauty.
Despite this, Harry and Ginny were nothing more than best friends. In fact, they were a lot like Ron and Hermione in their fourth and fifth year before they started dating, except without the blatant jealousies or constant bickering. In Harry's seventh year, and Ginny's sixth, both had come to an unspoken understanding that neither would date other people. This proved a bit difficult considering many of the boys at Hogwarts longed to accompany Ginny to Hogsmeade. And let's face it, Harry Potter, try as he may, was no wallflower either. Without even a word or hint, Ginny knew she was Harry's, just as she knew Harry was hers.
Everything about the "relationship" between Harry and Ginny was unspoken. Nothing needed to be said. And it has been this way since the day both of them almost died in the Chamber of Secrets.
A loud howl from the forest broke the silence of the grounds and brought Harry back to reality. Ginny too, seemed to have jumped at the sound, as if having broken out a trance herself.
"I can't believe I'm done here," Harry said finally.
"I know. I remember when you couldn't even get through the barrier at the train station," Ginny said, smiling at the back of Harry's neck.
Harry too, couldn't help but momentary smile. It faded as he said, "I just don't think I'm ready yet."
"No one's ever ready to move on, Harry. But we do when it comes time, whether we're ready to or not. And if you've proven anything, you've proven that you can rise to any occasion. Whatever the world has thrown at you, you've managed to survive it, without falling apart. We're all proud of you Harry; your parents would have been proud of you."
Tears almost welled up in Harry's eyes as the sincerity of her words. As self-deprecating as he is, Harry couldn't help but feel the truth in it. His heart sent her a silent thank you for her ability to make him feel better without an unconvincing white lie or compliment that seemed undeserved.
Ginny was about to prompt him to say sometime, when he really began to pour out his heart.
He said it with three words: "I'm afraid, Ginny."
"I know," she said quietly, hating herself for not being able to say more.
"It's coming, Gin," he continued, "by the end of the summer. I can feel it."
Ginny didn't have to ask what was "it" was. No one knew when this final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort would take place, but Harry's voice seemed so sure, that Ginny didn't doubt him for a second. Ginny desperately wanted to change the subject. This subject, however, couldn't just be brushed aside. It was too serious to be ignored and this time she couldn't defer it until a later time. The time for Harry to unburden his soul was now, whether she was ready for it or not.
Ginny wasn't even thinking clearly, when the question came out of her mouth. She had absolutely no idea where it came from; it was completely random. "What do you wish you could do right now, but can't?"
Kiss you, he thought instinctively. "Uh," he began, it had to be the last thing he expected her to say. He tried to answer honestly, but couldn't help but be intoxicated by her scent. The mere presence of her was so overwhelming sometimes that he couldn't think anything beyond Ginny. And as much as he wanted to tell her that he wished that he could tell her he loved her and kiss her senselessly, he knew now was not the time, no matter how romantic the situation is. So he decided to say it, without saying it. "I wish I could, uh, say those—uh, my true feelings."
Ginny was clearly startled by that response. She expected him to say he wished they didn't try to save Sirius in his 5th year or something to that effect. This took her completely off guard. She knew immediately what those feelings referred too. Over the past couple of years, Harry told her all of his feelings: his guilt over everything, his longing for a family, his sometimes unjustified anger.
But the one subject Ginny and Harry never discussed were their feelings for each other. They didn't discuss it with each other, nor with other people, no matter how much Hermione presses them to. It was like having a dream. If you told someone, it won't come true. That was how Ginny and Harry treated the subject.
So Ginny replied to it, without saying it. "I wish I could say my true…feelings too."
Harry's heart did an involuntary leap.
"Well," Ginny said. "When this is all over, we can say to each other everything we've wanted to say."
"We can tell the world." Harry said, turning his head slightly to look at her, smiling. "You've got yourself a deal, Miss Weasley."
"Really?" She asked happily.
"Really," he said, smiling even wider.
"Promise?"
"Promise." It was then that Harry came to the realization that he may not live to see that promise through. He again fell back into his sadness.
Ginny could feel his shoulders slump. "Harry?" she asked, worried.
"What if I—Ginny, what if I don't make it?"
Ginny didn't even want to go there. She didn't even want to picture a world without him. But there was something in her heart, that wouldn't let her believe there was even a world without him.
"You will," she said confidently.
"Gin, you know we don't know that for sure."
"You will," she said a little more firmly.
Harry was again taken aback by how sure her voice seemed. He thought that she said it so that he would think optimistically. After all, everyone who had ever told him that he would make it, couldn't even really convince themselves. When they tell him this, he can see them trying to fight their own uncertainty. But Ginny sounded so convinced. But why should he doubt her now? Harry knew that every single word Ginny had ever said to him, she knew to be true in her own heart.
"Besides," Ginny continued, "You have to make it, because you promised me that you would tell me your true feelings. And you can't go back on a promise with me, Mr. Potter."
Harry wasn't entirely convinced he believed her. But he hoped beyond hope that he could keep his promise and somehow that made him feel better.
"We should go back in," he said, lowering the broom back down to the ground.
"Thanks, Harry." Ginny said as he got off the broom himself and she took his offered hand so that he can help her off.
"You can thank me next time."
"Good, because there will be a next time."
"Of course."
And with that they silently made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower, hand-in-hand under his father's invisibility cloak, where no one can see just how much in love they were in.
