Ginny Weasley sat bolt upright in her bed, and for a moment, she didn't
know where she was. She cried out softly, until her eyes adjusted to the
darkness and she realized she was home. There was no body. No blood. A
trace of the all consuming fear from her dream still lingered, and her
hair stuck unomfortably to the back of her neck from the cold sweat that
had covered her body.
She blinked back tears of relief and confusion. A dream. It had all been a dream. Somewhere in her resided the unsettling notion that it had perhaps been something more, but she pushed it out of her mind and threw off her covers sliding out of bed and onto the familiar wooden floor. had it not been occupied by the sleeping body of Hermione Granger, Ginny might have kissed it.
Shivering a little, she stepped carefully over Hermione and crossed the room to her door. She desperately needed a cup of tea.
......
The kitchen was already warm and bright as Ginny padded into the inviting room, and the last person she expected to find in her kitchen at this ungodly hour was hunched over a large mug at the kitchen table. His pale, drawn face showed that he hadn't been sleeping well either.
"Harry?" Ginny asked incredulously. "What are you doing up?"
Harry managed a weak smile. "I could ask you the same thing."
Ginny's thoughts returned briefly to her nightmare and she shuddered a little. "Couldn't sleep." she mumbled lamely.
Harry might have noticed the flash of fear that had crossed her features, but he knew better than to press her about it. If she wanted to tell him, she would. "I've made some tea." he said. "Would you like some?"
"Very much." She agreed fervently, happy to change the subject.
The brunette stood and retreived a mug from the cabinet, pouring tea from the silver kettle carefully into it, before adding tea and sugar and taking biscuit from the breadbasket. Ginny sat down at the table, regarding him with amusement. "I hope it's all right." Harry said, handing it to her. She gratefully accepted the ug, and breathed in the steam emanating from the mug. Here in the bright warmth of the kitchen her nightmare seemed so far away.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. "So," Ginny said finally, when she was able to make her voice sound cheerful. "What *are* you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep." he mocked her, with a small grin.
"Ron said you were still having nightmares?" she said quietly.
The smile slipped off of Harry's face and he looked blankly at her for a moment, and then he seemed to realize he hadn't answered her. "Oh." he said.
"Do..." Ginny hesitated. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." Harry said quickly. "It was actually Ron's snoring keeping me awake." he did a rather good impression, and Ginny giggled appropriately, though she couldn't push aside the nagging feeling that there was a deeper sadness there. She didn't want to push or prod the truth out of him, but her inquisitive natre wouldn't let her just forget it, either.
"I had a nightmare." Ginny said quietly, after another long pause. Harry looked at her and didn't say anything. She shivered at the memory. "It was horrible." she said. "Everyone was there, my family, my friends, everyone was dying and there was nothing I could do about it. There was so much screaming...so much pain..." Ginny blinked hard and fast, not wanting to cry.
There was something both very young and very old about her expression. She looked scared, hurt, and a little lost. Harry felt the irrational need to protect her. From what? he chided himself. Her tea? He reached out and squeezed her hand sympathetically and Ginny stared at him as if she had just realized he was there.
"I had a nightmare, too." Harry admitted.
"About...you-know-who?" she inquired carefully, not wanting to tread on forbidden ground.
"About Cedric." he replied quietly.
Somehow Ginny knew that that was all he was going to say on the subject. They sipped their tea in silence. Ginny sighed softly to herself as she watched Harry. She ached to share the burden he was carrying, it seemed to be too much for one person. Something about him pulled at her. Unfortunately he didn't seem to feel the same way. She'd seen his longing glances at Cho. How could she compete with that? Cho was pretty, good at Quidditch, and older.. Perhaps if she were more mature...
She realized she had finished her tea and had been clutching an empty mug for the last few minutes. Harry, for his part, had noticed she was staring at him. Ginny flushed embarrassedly. "I'd better get to bed." She muttered as maturely as possible while wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.
"Are you alright?" Harry arched an eyebrow questioningly at her, an expression she found unerringly sexy. Ginny forced herself to look away and set her mug down with a rather resigned clunk. She smiled shyly at him and turned to leave.
"Goodnight, Gin." Harry called after her retreating figure.
"Night, Harry." She called back as she made her way back up the narrow staircase to her bedroom. Back in her room, Ginny felt a tingle of fear creeping up her spine. Here it was still dark and she felt as though traces of her nightmare lingered in the corners, waiting to jump out at her. Ginny shivered, and with only a moments hesitation, crawled into Hermione's sleeping bag, curling against the older girl.
Maturity could wait until tomorrow.
She blinked back tears of relief and confusion. A dream. It had all been a dream. Somewhere in her resided the unsettling notion that it had perhaps been something more, but she pushed it out of her mind and threw off her covers sliding out of bed and onto the familiar wooden floor. had it not been occupied by the sleeping body of Hermione Granger, Ginny might have kissed it.
Shivering a little, she stepped carefully over Hermione and crossed the room to her door. She desperately needed a cup of tea.
......
The kitchen was already warm and bright as Ginny padded into the inviting room, and the last person she expected to find in her kitchen at this ungodly hour was hunched over a large mug at the kitchen table. His pale, drawn face showed that he hadn't been sleeping well either.
"Harry?" Ginny asked incredulously. "What are you doing up?"
Harry managed a weak smile. "I could ask you the same thing."
Ginny's thoughts returned briefly to her nightmare and she shuddered a little. "Couldn't sleep." she mumbled lamely.
Harry might have noticed the flash of fear that had crossed her features, but he knew better than to press her about it. If she wanted to tell him, she would. "I've made some tea." he said. "Would you like some?"
"Very much." She agreed fervently, happy to change the subject.
The brunette stood and retreived a mug from the cabinet, pouring tea from the silver kettle carefully into it, before adding tea and sugar and taking biscuit from the breadbasket. Ginny sat down at the table, regarding him with amusement. "I hope it's all right." Harry said, handing it to her. She gratefully accepted the ug, and breathed in the steam emanating from the mug. Here in the bright warmth of the kitchen her nightmare seemed so far away.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. "So," Ginny said finally, when she was able to make her voice sound cheerful. "What *are* you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep." he mocked her, with a small grin.
"Ron said you were still having nightmares?" she said quietly.
The smile slipped off of Harry's face and he looked blankly at her for a moment, and then he seemed to realize he hadn't answered her. "Oh." he said.
"Do..." Ginny hesitated. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." Harry said quickly. "It was actually Ron's snoring keeping me awake." he did a rather good impression, and Ginny giggled appropriately, though she couldn't push aside the nagging feeling that there was a deeper sadness there. She didn't want to push or prod the truth out of him, but her inquisitive natre wouldn't let her just forget it, either.
"I had a nightmare." Ginny said quietly, after another long pause. Harry looked at her and didn't say anything. She shivered at the memory. "It was horrible." she said. "Everyone was there, my family, my friends, everyone was dying and there was nothing I could do about it. There was so much screaming...so much pain..." Ginny blinked hard and fast, not wanting to cry.
There was something both very young and very old about her expression. She looked scared, hurt, and a little lost. Harry felt the irrational need to protect her. From what? he chided himself. Her tea? He reached out and squeezed her hand sympathetically and Ginny stared at him as if she had just realized he was there.
"I had a nightmare, too." Harry admitted.
"About...you-know-who?" she inquired carefully, not wanting to tread on forbidden ground.
"About Cedric." he replied quietly.
Somehow Ginny knew that that was all he was going to say on the subject. They sipped their tea in silence. Ginny sighed softly to herself as she watched Harry. She ached to share the burden he was carrying, it seemed to be too much for one person. Something about him pulled at her. Unfortunately he didn't seem to feel the same way. She'd seen his longing glances at Cho. How could she compete with that? Cho was pretty, good at Quidditch, and older.. Perhaps if she were more mature...
She realized she had finished her tea and had been clutching an empty mug for the last few minutes. Harry, for his part, had noticed she was staring at him. Ginny flushed embarrassedly. "I'd better get to bed." She muttered as maturely as possible while wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.
"Are you alright?" Harry arched an eyebrow questioningly at her, an expression she found unerringly sexy. Ginny forced herself to look away and set her mug down with a rather resigned clunk. She smiled shyly at him and turned to leave.
"Goodnight, Gin." Harry called after her retreating figure.
"Night, Harry." She called back as she made her way back up the narrow staircase to her bedroom. Back in her room, Ginny felt a tingle of fear creeping up her spine. Here it was still dark and she felt as though traces of her nightmare lingered in the corners, waiting to jump out at her. Ginny shivered, and with only a moments hesitation, crawled into Hermione's sleeping bag, curling against the older girl.
Maturity could wait until tomorrow.