Chapter One: The First Time
The first time Ginny Weasley ever kissed Harry Potter had been very sad. It took place the summer after Harry's fifth year when he had to return to Grimmauld Place against his will and live in a house haunted by dead memories. No one had known what to do to cheer him up; Ron tried chess and quid ditch jokes, Hermione tried making him talk and not nagging him about homework for once, the twins pranked Ron for his benefit and Mum put enough food under his nose to feed a small army. But nothing worked.
It upset them all to see him so sad, so cut off from the world. He never spoke unless he was spoken to, and when he looked at people it was never into their eyes. He carried on as normal, even doing all of his summer homework early, but it was as if he was simply existing rather than living. And Ron had told them that he didn't seem to sleep, instead staring wordlessly at the ceiling above his bed.
It wasn't a very good summer for any of them. The scars on Ron's arms showed no signs of fading and Hermione was still having to take lots of different kinds of potions. Ginny's ankle flared up every now and again; as it hadn't been a clean break Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to fix it completely and it would always be weak. Although she knew it was a bit selfish to worry about such things, she was worried that she wouldn't be able to play Quidditch next year and be a chaser like she had always wanted.
After three weeks, everyone was upset and fraught. They were cooped up inside and Harry showed no signs of improving. Instead, he was gradually cutting himself off from them and spent his time in his room, staring out of the window. They all tip-toed around him, worrying about making him more sad than he already was.
One afternoon, Ginny went into his and Ron's room to get Ron's fifth year potions book. As always, Harry was sitting on the bed with the wall against his back to support him. He didn't acknowledge her presence but he did watch her search through Ron's old school trunk for the book. He gave off an air of complete sadness.
"Reckon I should get to twins to make his turn all of his robes maroon?" she asked him, forcing a light-hearted tone and holding up Ron's tattered black school robe.
Harry gave her a ghost of a smile out of politeness and shrugged his shoulders. Ginny wasn't a very motherly sort of person, but it hurt her to see Harry in so much pain. She knew that if she smiled and walked out, he would spend the rest of the afternoon in the same position, and the thought of it became too much to bear. So, she crossed the room and settled herself comfortably on the bed next to Harry (a good few inches away).
"Ron's thrashing Hermione at chess downstairs," she informed him, "but I bet if the two of us teamed up, we could put him in his place."
Harry turned to look at her, and she just knew that he was silently pleading with her to drop it and leave him alone to grieve in peace. A few weeks ago, she would have done, but today she felt like she couldn't leave him here like this. Looking at him, she felt a tightening behind her nose and looked away, thinking of another tactic.
"Um….or we could go and steal some of the chocolate cake Mum's making for dessert tonight."
He didn't even look at her this time.
"Come on, Harry, I know that you love chocolate cake. I've seen you eat loads of it at school."
When he did look at her, she felt very silly for mentioning something as trivial as chocolate cake. After a few more attempts at conversation, she realised that Harry did not want to talk. But she still couldn't leave him, so she decided to sit silently with him, not talking or touching him. It was stupid really, but it felt like the only thing she could do.
She didn't know how long they sat there for, looking out of the window, but eventually she heard her Mum calling for her to help with dinner. She yelled that she would be down in a minute, and started to get off the bed, smoothing down the quilt from where she had crumpled it.
"Just because I'm the only girl, she thinks she can make me do all the housework," Ginny grumbled good-naturedly, trying to keep things light and happy, "bet you any money Ron isn't helping out."
He met her eyes then, and it was very confusing to look at him. He looked sad, as she had expected, but also angry, lonely, grateful and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. He looked as though he had the whole world on his shoulders, and like he believed he would never be happy again.
It was this last part that made her do it, she told herself later. It was purely because she wanted to make him see that there were lots of good things left in the world, even if Sirius wasn't in it, and that eventually, he would be happy again. She didn't have the words to tell him this, so she instead leaned over and kissed him.
Kissing Harry was not how she had imagined it would be when she fantasised about it at age eleven. It was very one-sided, but it did make her heart skip in her chest a little bit. It was also very sad, as she could feel every bit of his grief and loneliness. It was this that bought her grinding back to reality and she pulled back abruptly, flushing a true Weasley red.
The good thing was that Harry did not look repulsed or disgusted. And he wasn't wiping his mouth. But he did look confused, and not how she wanted him to look. Not that she knew how she wanted him to look. She didn't even know why she did it. To cheer him up. Not to make him fall madly in love with her. She was over Harry, she just didn't like to see him so sad. That was all there was too it, but she couldn't explain that.
Forcing an unconvincing smile, she made a hasty retreat, suddenly feeling as though she might cry. On the way downstairs she composed herself, becoming bright and breezy for her Mum again, and at dinner she acted perfectly normally, talking to everyone as if nothing had happened. It was only when she went to bed that night and found that she couldn't sleep, that she realised how much of a turmoil she was in about the whole thing.
A/N: This is the first part of a few, and Ginny is in denial.
