A/N: Why is nothing indigo? I hope you like this and it makes sense…I'm really not used to the pairing.

Indigo

Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

To this day Ginny could remember the day she had first talked about being in love. It wasn't with her mum, or with a girl friend, although she wished sometimes that it had been. No, it was with someone completely different; someone, even though she didn't know it then, hadn't any idea what she was talking about, no matter how intelligent he seemed.

I don't know if I'm in love with him or not, Tom. I think I'm too young to be in love but it really feels like it.

Love is a chemical, Ginny. It is not worth your time.

Haven't you ever loved anyone?

I have found satisfaction from the people I respect and that inspire me. But I have never loved anyone, nor have I wanted to love anyone.

That's a shame.

You may think so, but I do not. Love, to me, has never seemed worth the trouble…

This had depressed her eleven-year-old heart. Was such cynicism the truth? Was love really a chemical that humans were trying to glorify in the home of lifting themselves above animals? Or was it something else…

These days, seven years later, there was no doubt in her mind. Love wasn't a chemical…it was a force. And a powerful force at that, one which possessed her in a way she was not frightened or ashamed to admit.

"Look, the colour's changed!" Harry said. Ginny blinked, she had been lost in thought. She and Harry were spending this Sunday together, and after having lunch with her family they were relaxing in a room downstairs. He was looking at photographs she had collected, and in his hand he held one of her in a dress she had borrowed from Fleur.

"Oh, yes, that blue dress. It looked better on Fleur" She said, though Harry made a gesture of completely ignoring the last comment and said.

"It's purple."

"No, it's blue."

"It's…indigo."

"Indigo's not a real colour. It's just blue and purple. Besides, that's blue."

"Hmm…" He stared at it more closely, bringing it closer to his face.

Ginny laughed.

"You look so sweet when you squint."

Harry looked up, and laughed. "Don't. I barely passed the eye test in Auror training; I really don't want to get thicker glasses."

"Get lenses, you silly boy. They would enhance your eyes." She looked into them then, and saw the sun reflected in his lenses.

"My face is too used to glasses." he said. "If I took them away, I'd still look squinty even if I had lenses."

An idea occurred to Ginny. "Harry, put the photos down. We're going to play a game." Before he could speak, she leant forward and took his glasses, then asked him excitedly to close his eyes. After protesting wildly that this was a daft idea with only more giggles as a response, he did so, and counted to ten while she ran to hide. She did not go far as she did know how bad his eyesight was; in fact, she didn't really hide at all. She went outside the room, closed the door, and stood in front of it, listening.

"Five…Six…Seven…Eight…"

As he counted, her thoughts drifted again. Yes, strange it may have seen, it had been the splotchy words from her quill, in dark blue ink and large, shakily joined letters that had been the correct ones, not the sophisticated black penmanship. Love was more than biological, because it was so varied. Ginny knew that she loved so many people in so many different ways. She loved her family for being her family, her friends for being her friends, and people like Hermione, Luna, Neville and little Teddy, who were somewhere in between. And then, there was him…

There was a sound of clumsy footsteps, as well as the bang of a hand against the door and another trying to grip the door handle. The door was opened wide, and his green eyes widened in recognition in the half-second before she kissed him. It was warm and sweet and yet as filled with emotion as any more passionate kiss before it. His hands, without the least help from his eyes, moved to run through her long hair as she wrapped her arms around his body. This was a moment of unity, of understanding, of pleasure and of real love in its most celebrated form. She closed her eyes, and kissed him for a couple more seconds before breaking apart and saying;

"Actually, I think indigo is a real colour."