I'm not going to do it like this, I think. The moment isn't right. I can't just jump on him the moment he walks in, no matter how much I want to. I'll restrain myself and then talk to him and then –

But then he's here and the moment is right and it's here.

Or can I?

.

"So, I guess we're… a couple now, right? If you want."

"Yeah," I say, happily, butterflies fluttering around my stomach. "I guess we are."

.

I feel sick with regret and guilt. I rub my eyes clean of tears I didn't mean to shed and don't bother to hide my steps as I descend the staircase: I want him to hear me coming so he's not startled.

He looks up at my entry, and I hate doing this because I know he doesn't get much sleep, but it's the first Chamber nightmare I've had in weeks and weeks so I step into his arms and let him hold me.

He knows what I'm saying without words and I'm thinking I belong here.

.

The next day I glance over at him as I finish the final sentence of an essay and he's fallen asleep, with his head back against the couch, his mouth slightly open, and his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. Something in my heart sings.

I swipe a blanket from a nearby chair and pull it over the both of us, settling in next to him. I'm lulled to a doze by the sound of his breathing.

I want to be here when he wakes up.

.

It's funny – the first time we kissed it happened so suddenly I barely even remember it.

Now, I seem aware of every detail: my hand gripping his hair more firmly, my arm tightening around his neck, all the places on my back and waist where he's touching me. It's beautiful.

.

The sun is warm. The grass is comfortable. Worries can't reach us in this place. We're talking and laughing and his hand finds mine and I could stay here forever.

.

There's so much I want to say to him to ease the pain, but I'm afraid I'll only make it worse. It's like I've always known, realistically, it would have to come to an end. And I can't afford to be selfish anymore.

.

He's close. So close it hurts.

I can't see him. I can't hear him. I can't touch him.

I can only send my message and hope it'll be enough.

.

When I see him, I smile, and it feels like the first time.

.

I wake and am content for a few wonderful moments before my brain registers the pale sunlight filtering through the curtains. Panicked, I shake him awake.

I don't want him to go, but I don't want him to feel bad for getting me in trouble.

He gives me an unreasonably witty retort and I stifle my laughter so my dormmates don't wake up. Then, picking the lesser of two evils, I kiss him and practically shove him out the window.

.

He's downstairs, sitting at the table. He has dark circles under his eyes and his head is nearly falling into his breakfast.

I gently hug Mum, then walk around behind him and set a mug of coffee in front of him. I sit down next to him and take his hand. I hope he's warmer.

.

It all happens in a gorgeous blur, and next thing I know I'm lying next to him in the dark. I've got that tingling, pins-and-needles sensation that you get when your foot falls asleep, except in my whole body, which is funny because I've never felt so alive.

.

"Why the hell'd you wait so long?" I almost shout, on top of him on the ground. My hands are trembling and I will myself not to cry.

He shrugs and says, "It never felt like the right moment."

.

"So, I guess we're married now, right?" He pulls me closer to him, if it's possible, and spins us round while we sway.

"I guess so," I murmur, and the world spins faster and my stomach drops pleasantly as his lips claim mine.

a/n: an HP version of my valentine's day present to the familiar stranger, GR. :)

and now the shameless self-plug: i've got a four-shot up called the best deceptions, based on some lovely quote by anon, and h/g is the last chapter - and the other three are all canon faves! check it out. please. :P

questions about this, comments, concerns? shoot me a review, i'd love it.

thanks for reading.

~whispered touches

disclaimer: i don't own harry or ginny. they're jkr's property, and i'm not (trying to at least) infringing on copyright stuffs.