Before the battles, there is one last calm before the storm.
I don't own HP.
She took his hand and led him out of the glowing, loud, cheerful kitchen, through the back door to the porch swing. She sat down on it and he did too, looking over the little padlock where the apples grew, shining silver in the moonlight.
They just sat for a while, thinking their own thoughts. Ginny broke the silence first:
"Harry-,"
"Yeah?"
"Would you-would you die for me?"
He looked down at her face; she was still staring out into the apple orchard.
"Of course. Why do you ask, planning to die anytime soon?" he said, trying to inject some humour into the situation.
Her face twitched in what might have been a smile, but her eyes were still tired. She turned, now looking into his eyes.
"Would you live for me?"
"What?"
"Would you live if I die, live life, love someone, marry..."
He looked down at that upturned face, embodying everything he looked for-strength, truth, love, hope-and knew he would.
"Yes,"
Feeling self-conscious, he added, "Would you?"
"Only if you do," And this time, the smile reached her eyes.
He kissed her, feeling the kiss carrying them far beyond the smell of apples in the moonlight, the crickets chirping under the porch-even the turmoil of their own thoughts. There was always time later.
Well? Whaddya think? Origianally planned as part of a drabble series, then forgotten, then refound, and I thought it was okay.
REVIEW...please...I'm suffering from a lack of them...