'Til I Kissed You

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or Ginny or anything else from the Harry Potter books. They all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling. The song in chapter two belongs to the Everly Brothers, as does the title of the fic. Please don't sue me.

Author's Note: This is just a really short three chapter fic. It's a little thing I dreamed up on a rainy day, so it might not be very good. This is my first try at a Harry/Ginny romance, though I've had hints in my other stories. Please don't flame me. As my mother says, if you haven't got anything nice to say don't say anything at all.

Chapter 1: Thunderstorms

Harry Potter sat in the common room by himself, late on Saturday night. He'd been asleep but the thunder from the storm outside had woken him up. Not that he was afraid of it. He just couldn't get back to sleep. After all, the things in his sleep were often more frightening than any storm could be. He'd faced far more dangerous things than thunder.

Harry was staring into the fire when a voice behind him caused him to jump.

"Can't sleep? Or is the great Harry Potter afraid of an 'ickle thunder storm?"

Harry turned around to face the speaker.

"Leaping wizards, Gin. You scared the pants right off me," he said to the pretty redhead standing at the bottom of the girls' dormitory stairs. She moved to the chair next to him.

"They still look on to me," she said glancing at his pajama bottoms. They had little golden Snitches and tiny broomsticks on them. Sirius had given them to Harry for his birthday.

"Ha ha. And no, I was not afraid of the thunder. I couldn't sleep. Why are you up? You scared of the storm, Virginia Marie Weasley?"

"No I was not, Harry James Potter," Ginny said indignantly. "I was afraid of my dreams," she added in a whisper.

"Can you keep a secret, Gin?" Harry asked.

She nodded.

"So was I," he confided. "Not very fun to have to see Cedric die again, you know?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I know how you feel. Riddle bothers me. It's like your head knows it's not your fault but you still feel like it is, right?"

Harry looked at her, like it was the first time he'd really seen her. She knew exactly how he felt.

"Yeah," he said. He tilted his head and looked closely at her. "You know, I never realized how much we have in common."

"Like what?" she asked him.

"You know, we've both come in very close contact with evil."

"We're the only two people Voldemort's ever wanted to kill who lived, for example?" she offered.

"YouYou called him Voldemort? I thought your whole family called him You-Know-Who," Harry stuttered, a little shocked.

"That just shows how little we've talked, Harry. I call him by his name. I've met him and I've called him by his name ever since," she said.

Harry looked at her for a long time as she stared into the fire. Her green eyes glowed and the flames danced on her red hair. He had never realized that they were both the only two to survive after Voldemort had decided to kill them. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry started to see her in a new light. She changed from being little Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister, into teenage Ginny Weasley, the girl Harry wanted to befriend.

"You know what, Ginny?" he said.

"What's that, Harry?"

"I'd like to get to know you. Do you think we could do that?" he asked gently.

"I'd like that, Harry." She smiled at him and yawned. "Not right now, though. I'm tired and the storm is over so you should be able to sleep. No scary thunder keeping you awake," she joked.

Harry grinned. They got up and walked towards the girls' dormitory staircase. Ginny stood on the bottom step and looked at Harry. With her on the step they were just about the same height.

"Goodnight, Boy-Who-Lived," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Girl-Who-Lived," he responded.

Then, following his instinct, Harry leaned in and kissed Ginny lightly on the lips. A short, sweet, innocent kiss, but enough to send shivers down both their spines.

Ginny smiled at him again and walked up to her dorm. Harry went up to his. He wasn't afraid of his dreams anymore. He didn't see Cedric die again. That night he dreamt of a certain redhead, and it wasn't Ron.