AN: There are a lot of the 'Ginny and Harry dance at the wedding' fics out there, so this is my take on it. My first attempt at angst, so... sorry if I make anyone cringe.

Enjoy?


Melt.

In between the waltzing couples, the conjured fairies flittered about, their tinkling laughter barely audible. As a flock, they raced to the last patch of light from the dying sunset on the bare grass; it was their last chance to frolic in golden warmth. Two spiralled upwards into the heavens, in an entwining mating dance, as the sun finally faded away. The song finished.

Quiet applause filled the makeshift dance floor in the Weasleys' garden, followed by mild chatter. The newlyweds did not seem to notice the end of the song, and continued to sway gently with slow and careful tenderness. There would only be a short honeymoon for Bill and Fleur, and even the little time they had would most likely to be cut short. Attacks and murders were becoming more frequent, and with Dumbledore's wisdom and insight no longer there to guide the Order, the dependence for every man and woman's service was even greater. At the end of the war, there was a good chance Fleur would emerge as a widow.

So they made do with what they could, and treated this night as the last night to be happy and carefree for a very long time.

Harry watched the wedding party with the detached look of a person who was not really paying attention, but seeing through whatever lay before them. He found that if he concentrated too much on what was happening, something painful constricted his chest and made it very hard to breathe. Consciously refusing to even glance at the person who he so desperately to stare look at, he turned his eyes over to the huge banquet table on groom's side. Mrs and Mrs Weasley simply sat together, hand in hand, and Harry knew that they were reliving their own wedding that took place during the first war; a joyful occasion, yet tainted with fear. Mrs Weasley, her eyelids made heavy with plenty of good wine, smiled reminiscently at her husband; he responded with a loving kiss on the forehead.

The band struck up again; now it was a slow number, a song that was made for lovers. As more couples approached the dance floor hand in hand, Harry saw Mrs Weasley gesture sadly to someone on the other side of the garden, someone who was watching the dancing glumly. Without needing the light tap from his wife, Mr Weasley got up and made his way through the slowly swaying couples, past his youngest son and the pretty, bushy haired girl enveloped in his tight embrace, past the grey, tweed-clad werewolf and his pinked haired punk with matching fishnet stockings, and past the new Mr and Mrs Weasley to his lonely daughter. With a kind smile, he extended his hand. Ginny took it, smiling sadly in return, and let her father lead her into the crowd – inevitably in front of Harry.

He couldn't help but watch her; it had been the first real look of her he'd had all day, the first real look at her he'd had since Dumbledore's funeral.

The past two weeks had seemed like a cruel form of drawn-out torture. When Harry wasn't talking in hushed tones with Ron and Hermione concerning the adventure ahead of him, or spending hours alone in contemplative silence, Ginny was perfectly cheerful, acting as if they were friends and nothing more, that there was no barrier between them. Harry had silently thanked her for not making it any more difficult or awkward than it was, and in return, was forcefully cheerful himself. But they avoided each others eyes.

Except now, in the faint glow of twilight, with her flaming red hair and dusty gold dress, she looked to be the promise of morning. And he while he knew that every second longer he looked at her would make it harder to resist, he could not look away.

Ginny looked up from her father's embrace, and saw Harry watching her. He knew that it was no use.

…And then he was getting up from his lonely bench, he was weaving his way through the dancers, he was ignoring the thought that breaking his resolution would put her in danger, would make it harder to say goodbye when he left her behind, would make it worse for her if he ended up –

One last dance.

– and he was tapping Mr Weasley on the shoulder to break in, so that he might have one last dance with the person he loved the most.

Mr Weasley didn't seem remotely surprised when he saw that it was Harry asking to cut in. With an incline of his head, almost as if giving his approval, he stepped aside. Harry awkwardly put his hand on her waist, and took her warm hand in the other; Ginny rested her free hand on his shoulder.

They locked eyes.

It wasn't over. It was never over, and they both knew it, no matter what silly pretence they had been keeping up for the past fortnight. They knew it all along.

Seeing the hollowness in Ginny's normally sparkling eyes was Harry's breaking point. And it was when the band climaxed into a bittersweet crescendo that Ginny's eyes went overbright –

Suddenly, she was clinging to him in desperation, and his arm was circling her waist and shoulders, and they were so close and so tight, that Harry thought maybe, just maybe, if they stayed like that, they'd somehow melt together and never have to part…

Harry tightened his hold. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

He felt Ginny nod against his chest.

Harry could tell by the way that she clung to him all the more tightly that she knew he would not linger to say farewell the next day. This would be their only goodbye.

And he knew that when the song ended and he kissed her, it would almost undoubtedly be the last time he ever would.


AN: (Sigh) I think something similar to this will happen in DH. And if it does, I will cry like a baby. (Having said that, I HOPE TO HEAVEN Ginny is her sassy lil self and goes with the trio to recover the Horcruxes.)

Please review - I want to know what you think!