Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, isn't that surprising?
The softly flickering flames in the fireplace doused the common room in an orange glow. Only a few people lingered around - a fourth year girl was scribbling frantically on a piece of parchment with her astronomy books and charts scattered around her, while a small group of fifth year boys were sitting on comfy looking cushions in a circle on the floor playing gobstones.
The laughter coming from the boys was tuned out though by the lone sixth year who resided on his favourite armchair just in front of the slowly dying fire. He was leaning against the armrest and his legs were draped over the other. The fluttering sparks were reflected in his glasses as he stared into the depths of complete nothingness.
Many things were on his mind, and he seemed to catch himself daydreaming more often than not these days. The weight of the world was on his shoulders and it seemed too heavy to even attempt to throw off. The prophecy was always lingering on the edges of each thought he had and the grief from losing Sirius still hit him when he least expected it to.
Not everything was doom and gloom though, and he had to be thankful for that. Ron and Hermione had apparently decided to forget their argument that had spanned the course of several months had ever occurred, and he couldn't have been more relieved - playing the role of peacekeeper between the two of them had been damn near impossible. Katie returning to the Quidditch team had also perked up his mood recently. The team was back to how it was meant to be from the start and their chances of winning the cup were looking better by the day.
However at the present moment, Harry Potter was sprawled across an armchair trying to stay afloat in the pool of melancholy he was currently drowning in. His paranoia over what the hell Malfoy was up to was reaching breaking point. Each moment he spent tracking the Slytherin's movements became a moment wasted, as no matter how hard he dug, he was failing to uncover any information of value. Months of looking and all he knew was that Crabbe and Goyle were being polyjuiced into girls - hardly a victory for either side. And to top of his despondent mood, rumours of him being the "Chosen One" followed him everywhere in a variety of forms - from giggling girls to looks of awe from almost everyone he met. The rumours were true of course, but there was no need for the public to know that - he could only begin to imagine he field day the Prophet would have if he confirmed said title.
Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair as the fifth years let out another round of raucous laughter that he couldn't tune out this time. He twisted round awkwardly in his chair to glare at them, as did the fourth year doing her homework, and then promptly settled back down into his previous position- fully prepped to re-enter the whirlwind that was his thoughts.
He had just settled back down when the portrait opened. He glanced to the side halfheartedly to see who was coming into the common room at half-past eleven at night.
And then he did the perfect double take.
Ginny Weasley stepped quietly into the common room. Her head was kept down as she walked quickly over to the door to the girls' dormitory, his eyes following her progress. Robes fluttering behind her, she glanced up briefly as her foot touched the first step going up. Her hazel-eyed stare met Harry's green head on.
"Harry." She said stupidly, stepping down from the stair. She smiled softly and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. He could see she was tired, it was almost midnight after all, and it was evident in the purple smudges underneath her eyes as well as her slow movements.
"Hey." He spoke softly, sitting up straighter as his legs swung round so he was sitting on the chair as one normally should. Ginny made her way over to where he sat and slumped onto the sofa next to his armchair.
"What are you doing up so late? Wait - don't tell me - Ron and Hermione finally pulled their heads out of their arses and have gone to snog in a broom cupboard. Did they leave you waiting here all alone? How rude." She said with a wide grin. It took Harry a couple of moments to answer, as he was captivated by the way her hair seemed to glow and dance in the glow of the dying embers of the fire. He forced his gaze away from her hair to meet her eyes again.
"How did you know? Hermione could have sworn their cover story was airtight."
"Ah well, nothing gets past me. Especially if it concerns Ron. Any news that concerns him finds its way to me and is then used as a source of emotional blackmail."
Harry stared at her, trying to discern whether or not she was kidding about blackmail part. And why are you overthinking that particular detail? He thought to himself.
"Is that right? Well then he had better watch out." He replied jokingly, a smirk playing on his lips. Ginny smirked as well, though her gaze swept him up and down. She edged further along her sofa, closer towards him.
"Now I don't know about you Mr Potter, but I am rather tired - knackered if I may say so myself. I was on my way to my bed when I happened to see you still down here, looking rather - what's the word? Sad? No. Lost." Her lofty joking tone had changed to something akin to sympathy as she spoke. Ginny leaned forward and held her head on her hand as she studied him intensely. Harry's brow knitted as from a simple look she had sussed him out.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He stared at her.
"Nah, I'm alright. Really I am." He said after seeing her narrowed eyebrows.
"And I'm a hippogriff," She said as she rolled her eyes slightly, "You can tell me you know." Her voice softened.
"It's just," he shrugged, "I don't know-" He waved his hand vaguely. "-sometimes it gets a bit too much I guess."
Ginny reached her hands out and took his, pulling him to his feet. She looked up at him and brushed the hair from his eyes, leaving a tingly feeling where her fingers met his skin. "Sometimes it does get a bit too much. And sometimes, you have to let people help you when that happens. I know you can't tell me what's on your mind even if you wanted to - but there's always Hermione, or Ron if the twat actually stops staring at Hermione long enough for him to take in what's happening around him." She grinned as Harry laughed softly.
She gently let go of his hands and placed one on his shoulder. Harry's eyes darted down to his shoulder before moving back to focus on Ginny. His heart was pounding in his chest, he was rather surprised that Ginny couldn't hear it thudding. The monster in his chest was urging him on.
Just kiss her already.
I can't.
"You don't have to go through this alone Harry. I'm always here if you need me." Her hand trailed a small path down his arm before she removed it. They stood close to each other, barely a foot apart. The aroma of flowers tickled Harry's nose. They were locked in each other's gaze. Then Ginny walked backwards for a few steps. "Goodnight Harry. Get some sleep." She turned and headed to the steps up to her dormitory.
He watched her go, admiring the way her hair cascaded down her back, swishing slightly as if it were a pendulum as she went. She turned around and glanced back at him, seeing that he hadn't headed up to his own dormitory yet. She shook her head exasperatedly, reminding Harry of her mother, and pointed at him then to the steps to his dormitory. Harry raised an eyebrow and grinned while he lifted his hands in defeat. Ginny smirked smugly in victory and mouthed the word "goodnight", before turning to disappear round the spiralling steps.
Harry made his way up to his dormitory, changed into his pyjamas and crawled into his bed. He lay on his back and stared at the scarlet canopy of his bed for a moment. Turning onto his side he shut his eyes and went to sleep, a content smile lingered on his face.