Ok, so my first Harry Potter fic! When I read the book, I wasn't expecting this to happen, but when I heard the song I chose to go with it, everything seemed to fall into place. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! Some of the dialouge may not match the book, it's not meant to. And as an added thought, I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, and I don't own the song, sung by Kelly Clarkson. Totally wish I did. Anyways, please review, it would mean the world to me, as it would to any writer. Enjoy!

P.S. I'll return to my Eragon fic ASAP, sorry for the in-between update, but the muse just wouldn't let it alone!

Excuse me for this
I just want a kiss
I just want to know what it feels like to touch
Something so pure
Something I'm so sure of
What it feels like to stand outside your door
I'm unworthy
I can see you're above me
But I can be lovely given the chance

Don't move
I want to remember you just like this
Don't move
It's only a breath or two between our lips

I know why you left
I can't blame you myself
Must be hard living with ghosts and such an empty shell
I tried to warn you
I've been a mess since you've known me
I can't promise forever
But I'm working on it
If I can't hold you
Can I give you a kiss
Can I have a kiss

I see that you're torn
I've got some scars of my own
Seems I want what I know is gonna leave me hungry

Don't move
I need to remember you just like this

I know why you left
I can't blame you myself
Must be hard living with ghosts and such an empty shell
I tried to warn you
I've been a mess since you've known me
I can't promise forever
But I'm working on it
If I can't hold you
Can I give you a kiss
Can I

All I have
All I can give to you I will
Just promise this
If I can't have forever
Can I have a kiss

I know why you left
I can't blame you myself
Must be hard living with ghosts and such an empty shell
I tried to warn you
I've been a mess since you've known me
I can't promise forever
But I'm working on it
If I can't hold you
Can I give you a kiss
Can I give you a kiss
Can I, can I
Can I have a kiss

It wasn't fair. It wasn't bloody fair what he was doing to her. And she wanted to hate him for it, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't muster up enough anger to hate the boy who'd captured her heart ever sine she'd laid eyes on him.

Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One, as the Prophet called him. The Prophet was a bunch of lies. But despite that, Ginny Weasley knew that Harry was trying to do his best.

Maybe that was why she couldn't truly hate him for breaking up with her. But it had cut her worse than anything so far, even his refusal to let her try and help him, no matter what it was. For all she had suffered through with him, those moments of total bliss when they were alone made up for it.

She did love him. She was smitten the moment she'd clapped eyes on him. And for a while, she'd gone ignored, passed over by other girls, but she had waited. Ever patient, she waited on the side lines, pretending to give her heart and affections to others, when in truth, she kept herself locked up inside. Waiting for the one man who she knew was the only one she'd ever really love.

Sometimes she wondered if she was good enough for him. That had been her main thought when she was younger. That she was no where near good enough for him. And after a while, when he turned her away for his dangerous mission, she believed it. And she'd been crushed.

But she'd had no time to grieve. So much was happening, she was swept up into it all, but she was grateful. It kept her mind off him, at least sometimes. Preparations for her brother's wedding, things with the Order, and all the terror circulating around her had nearly driven Harry from her mind. That was, until she logically concluded he was the source of it all.

There were times she was so afraid, all she wanted to do was hide under an Invisibility Cloak and just wait for it to be over. And more importantly, she wanted to hide with Harry.

But it was in one of those moments, Ginny realized something. Harry wasn't cowering in fear. He was on the run, but he was trying to fulfill the task Dumbledore left him. His bravery and selflessness went beyond all bounds, and if she really cared about him, then she ought to try and be more like him.

And then he came back. Came back for Bill's wedding. And as they busied themselves in the preparations for the event, they'd found themselves alone.

She looked at him, knowing her eyes were cold. He'd hurt her, and now that she knew he was safe, she could be angry at him. At least for a moment. But as he approached her, it all melted away, transforming into a fierce pounding of her heart.

"You know why, Ginny," he whispered quietly. But he was so close! Only a breath away. Less, but she couldn't tell how far exactly.

"It doesn't make the pain go away," she murmured softly. "It doesn't take back the tears I cried."

At her words, his eyes revealed his pain. So much, and caused by her. Her, and all the other people he was inevitably hurting because of his mission. She had to make it up to him somehow. To stop that wretched pain in his emerald green eyes.

Without warning, and without words, she snaked her hands into his messy black hair, fisted themselves firmly within the tresses, and kissed him as fiercely as she knew how. He responded with a rush that was like butterbeer's warm flooding inside her body.

She wouldn't let him go. Now that she had him, she'd never let him go. Never. She couldn't. She wouldn't. She wouldn't let him get away again. She lost herself in the passion and wild thrills that his kiss gave her. No other had done this to her. No one would measure up to him. No other could rob her breath like he could. No other could leave her speechless and whimpering for more of what she knew would only leave her hungry.

All too soon, she heard footsteps. Harry removed his mouth from her's, eyes apologetic, and almost relieved. Her brother's angry out burst, and the resulting retorts stung Ginny.

When Ron and Harry disappeared, she collapsed onto the bed and gazed out the window. Sunlight danced across its glass frames, stretching into small rivers of gold along its base. And yet for all its innocence, evil worse than anything she'd ever known lurked out there. And it was waiting, just waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Ginny's frustrations threatened to boil over her composure. Why couldn't he see that she wanted to fight, maybe even die at his side? There was no place for her without him. Why couldn't he see that all she wanted was to be with him? That as long as he was there, he needn't worry about protecting her? Why couldn't he understand that?

But it was a testimony to how much he cared about her that he would reject and pull away from her. And it was all written in his kiss how much he longed to have her back, but knew it wasn't safe.

Ginny hung her head, and for the first time since Harry had been home, cried. She let silent tears poor out, staining her cheeks and falling into her lap. The pain was worse than what she had ever endured, no Cructatious Curse could hurt this much. This was heartfelt pain. Not physical. Emotional pain that would never go away unless something changed. Something that wasn't so easily altered with spoken words, or the flick of a wand.

Shedding her tears seemed to help. After about five minutes, she was able to wipe her eyes and stand back up. Drying her sobs, she started to head back down stairs; ready to face what she knew was fear. Fear that she would loose him. But he was no longer hers to have.

Was it too much for her to ask? To have him be hers, and hers alone? She guessed so. People had been trying to own him for all his life.

She glanced across the room, and his eyes darted to meet hers. It was a sideways, sort of smiling smirk that he used to give her whenever they were across the room and couldn't speak. She knew it was to reassure her, and it stirred in her longing like she'd never known.

Her thoughts echoed in lonely tones around her head as he left the room, turning his back on her.

If I can't hold you, can I have your kiss?

She couldn't have him all. But could she have just that little bit? Could that be hers and hers only? All she wanted was his comfort, his touch, his reassuring words that everything would be alright. And his acceptance. That was all she wanted. Was for him to love her. Was it so much to ask? His love? She believed so. And when she cried herself to sleep that night, her last thoughts before unconsciousness were

I know I can't hold you. But will you give me a kiss?