Ginny lay awake that night.

The normal castle sounds seemed frightening and strange; she twitched with fear as an owl swept past her window, its claws grazing the glass.
She closed her eyes.
"It's fine," she murmured to herself. "She's fine. You're fine. Now go to sleep..."

Luna lay awake.

She hadn't gone back to bed; instead, she had slid out of the castle, after casting a stunning spell on Filch's cat, and made her way to the outskirts of the forest. She lay on a long mossy rock, staring up at the black sky.

Every so often she would catch sight of a star brighter than the others and would inexplicably think of Ginny; the way her hair gleamed after she had just washed it; the magazines she carried around with her just so that she would have something to talk about with the other girls; the way she looked when playing Quidditch - focused and determined and yet somehow sweet and vulnerable at the same time.

She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tighter around herself; it was cold now.

Stifling a yawn, Ginny dressed quickly. The day was a Saturday, so she opted for a blue cardigan, grey tee-shirt, black jeans and boots instead of her uniform. She ran a brush through her hair whilst her enchanted make-up brushes set to work, and five minutes later she was fully awake and presentable.

She caught sight of Luna, stumbling through the crowds that lingered outside the great hall, and Ginny turned away.
She ran after the figure of Hermione Granger, and smiled at her as they sat down at the table.

"Hi, Ginny, you look sleepy," Hermione noted.
"Oh, yeah, late night," Ginny said quickly, rolling her eyes and pouring a bowl of cornflakes.
"Ooh," Hermione giggled. Ginny shook her head, now adding milk to her bowl. She swished the cereal around with her spoon as Hermione looked eagerly at her.
"Nothing like that, Hermione," Ginny fake-scolded, jabbing her in the arm with the other end of her spoon.
"Hmm," Hermione said, unconvinced. "It's just... Harry looks tired this morning as well." She winked at Ginny. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she added, patting Ginny's shoulder.

"Oh, God, Hermione, it's honestly nothing like that," Ginny protested desperately. "He probably had a nightmare or something, that'll be why he's tired... I wasn't with Harry."
"Okay, okay," Hermione said, a little startled. "That's fine. If you say you weren't, then you weren't."
Ginny turned away, relived, missing Hermione's second conspiratorial wink of the morning.

Luna lifted her head from her arms and looked blearily around the hall.
Most people had finished their breakfast and were leaving; or else there were a few couples entwined together sitting on various benches. Luna noticed Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley; Alicia Spinett and George Weasley.
"No girls," she noted miserably to herself, crunching the rest of her toast and getting up to leave.

She had homework, but that could wait. She had seen Ginny and Hermione Granger leave the hall together; heard them discussing where they would revise for their various exams. Down by the lake; Luna had heard.

She ran up to her dormitory; stood in front of the mirror.
She wore a plain black dress that stopped just above her knees, and black tights, "Not right," she muttered, sticking her head in the cupboard and emerging with a red satchel, a red cardigan and a pair of navy blue boots. She slung all of these on, fluffed her hair up in desperation, managed a shaky smile and hurried downstairs.

Ginny lay on her back, eyes closed, her books spread around her in a parody of studying. Hermione lay beside her, smearing lotion on her legs, which were revealed by the bright bottle-blue skirt she was wearing.
"I love warm weather," Ginny mumbled, and Hermione smiled.
"Me too," she said, "You can go out showing everything you've got, and nobody cares."
Ginny burst out laughing and sat up. "God, Hermione, you're such a slag now! You've changed."
"Have I?" Hermione sat up too, looking startled.
"Since you went out with my stupid brother," Ginny said. "Don't get me wrong, you're far more fun this way!"
Hermione laughed and pushed Ginny jokingly to one side.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called, sauntering down towards the lake. Hermione grinned widely and stood up, smoothing her skirt down and patting her hair as Ron swept her up into a kiss.

Ginny pretended to vomit, but then saw Harry walking beside Ron.
She shuddered inwardly at the look of lust on Harry's face - he had been begging her for weeks to sleep with him and she guessed he wouldn't stop now.

Harry flung himself down on the grass beside Ginny and cupped her face in one hand, stroking her hand with the other. He leaned in and kissed her shallowly; barely opening his lips. Ginny tilted her head back and dislodged his hand. Both hands now rested on her knees.
"Harry..." she said warningly.
"Come on, Ginny," he said, irritated. "For God's sake; I'm the Boy Who Lived!" He moved to whisper in her ear, his breath tickling her neck.
"I love you so, so much," he murmured. "Please, please do this for me."
Ginny felt herself softening. He kissed her again, his lips gentle, and she felt his tongue nudge her lips.

She hated kissing Harry like that.
His tongue tasted strange; foreign in her mouth; she wanted to bite it or spit it out and get away.

When she didn't open her mouth, he drew his tongue back, pressed a little harder with his lips and then broke away. Ginny took a breath in; no matter how nervous she was about Harry - most of his his kisses made her melt.

"Oh, for God's sake," Ginny whispered, and her voice was ragged.
"Is that a yes?" Harry asked, cheekily, winking at her.
"I don't know..." Ginny said, despairingly. "I'm only fifteen, Harry."
"So?"
"So it's illegal, duh," she said, tapping his forehead. She drew back, looking down as she felt tears sting her eyes. She wouldn't cry, not now, not here, not in front of him.
"I don't care," Harry whispered sultrily, kissing Ginny below her earlobe. "I'm only fifteen as well," he reminded her (AN - I don't know whether this is true but for the purposes of this story, Harry is nearly sixteen and Ginny has just turned fifteen).

"Harry," Ginny began, but he cut her off with another kiss.
"At least suck my cock," he whispered.
Ginny cringed a little at the crude sentence. "Not sex," she muttered back.
"Not til you're ready," Harry said, lovingly. He kissed her again; and she whispered, "Fine," in answer to his previous question.
Harry's face lit up.

Luna hid her face in her hands and disentangled one of Fred and George's extendible ears from her hair.