A/N: This is just a little something I thought up one day, when I sat alone wishing for love. Sight I love you Harry, be my dream man! Anyway, this story is AU and takes place nowhere in particular, but it's DEFINITELY after fourth year. I'd say it could take place around summer before sixth year, if I'd been the author of Harry Potter, that is. I think this if just a nice bit of Harry/Ginny fluff that makes me warm and fuzzy on the inside to imagine guys actually thinking this way. Well, I can dream, right?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If you want to send a complaint about any of it, send it to my box (that I'm borrowing from a friend for the week) on Nowhere Avenue, Greenland. Exactly. Thank you J.K. Rowling for making a purpose in my life.

Will You Love Me?

He'd seen that glint in her eyes. There was a fiery spark that lit her features, differencing her from her many brothers. The shyness that used to overcome her had slowly faded, like the colors of the sky melting into day in a sunrise. That's exactly what she was in his life—the sunrise.

Harry had grown up with the Weasleys ever since he was eleven, and been blissfully unaware of the wonderful world of girls that had been so close to him even then. But, thinking back, she had always perked his interest, even if it was so subtly that he could barely notice. Her flaming tendrils of hair that fell down her back and shoulders. The chocolate brown orbs that could shine with innocence or mischief on a second's notice. All of the light family freckles that crept their way onto her face, which served as the path that the blush would follow to light her face a bright red in the old days of their childhood. It was strange to him now that he had never seen this before. She was beautiful.

To say the least, he wanted her. But Harry's want was different, he was sure, than the other boys' his age was. Harry longed to be with her, not on her. To spend days after day by her side, fingers interlocked, and share the passion that was inside of him. He knew she felt it, too. There was something about her that made him painfully conscious of the fact that there was a love for him inside of her, equal to what he felt for her. How this had come about, there was just no way for either to know. It was as sudden as a snake striking its prey, but at the same time as gradual as turtle slowly but surely making its way to its destination. But it was there. There was no way to be rid of it, and only one way to satisfy it—they needed to be together.

He knew it; she knew it; why should there be a problem? This thought puzzled Harry. Nothing could be easy when it came to love, he decided. Besides, it should not be rushed. It should come naturally, like a spring that forms on its own from the soft trickles of ice, creating a raging river in due course. Every moment that passed between them made him want to be with her more. Gentle, caramel eyes would lock with his own blazing green, and an exchange would occur. It was like a flood of thoughts and emotions, all intermixed in a jumble, transferring from one person to the other in a few seconds. If something like this was normal or not, Harry could not say. That was how he knew that she knew his feelings for her, though.

This was no childhood crush, even if it might have started as such for one of them. Whatever it had started as had grown in each of them. Harry loved her. There was no explanation, no questioning it—he just knew. He felt no need to deny it. In the summer days he spent at their home that year, he cleverly flirted with her. She has no shame flirting back. The blush had been banished from her face, so that it was normal for them to speak to each other without awkwardness. And he enjoyed talking to her. So much, in fact, that he had taken to grabbing her by the hand and gently leading her to sit in the high grass by a lake nearby and talk while the sun set.

When his dreams would see nothing but her, or even when they were plagued by dark visions, he would wake her cautiously in the premature hours of the day to watch the sunrise. She would never object, but come with him as though it were a naturally thing that happened to her regularly. Which, as the weeks wore on, it became. She would rub her thumb over the top of his hand resting in the grass as it supported him, and say soothing words. Whatever Harry needed, she seemed to provide. If he was upset by a night vision, she knew the right words of comfort to say to him, which, if said by anyone else, would mean nothing to him. If he just wanted to be with her, she would snuggle close to him. There was a connection between them that was almost telepathic.

It seemed as though the words needn't be said. They loved each other, and they were together. But Harry wanted it final. He didn't care who heard, as long as she heard it. So on a late summer's day, he saw his dream girl standing by the water's edge, outlined by the plume of warm colors on the horizon. Nothing else mattered to him. He strode over to where she stood gazing over the two skies, one above, the other on the lake's surface, and turned when she heard Harry coming. A smile lit her eyes, and she looked as though nothing more than what she had at that very moment could make her any happier. A warm feeling like butterbeer flowing over his heart swept over him, and it wasn't unpleasant. Embracing her, Harry wondered aloud, even though he knew the answer,

"Will you love me, Ginny Weasley?"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I certainly did. Like I said before, this is fluff, fluff, and more fluff, that makes you feel warm and gooey inside (though that may sound unpleasant, it really isn't!). So, if you have a problem with it, GET LOST! I have no time for you. But recommend it to you friends, anyway insert tooth sparkling smile. If you feel you mouse gravitating towards the purple button below, DO NOT FIGHT IT! You may have magic powers! Let me know about it by CLICKING the button!