All I Want For Valentine's
By:Brianne Crandle

The future belongs to those
who believe in the beauty
of their dreams.....


The night was clear and dreamy, like a vision of perfection, a a gentle wind rustling the dark tall trees of the ever illusive Forbidden Forest. Harry leaned against the rail of the balcony and started out at the billions of stars, picking out his favorite constellations, and trying to remember their stories. There was something about the stars, and the heavens, that comforted Harry. There was so much out there in the Universe and hundreds of worlds and lives that he would never hear about, and people that might be facing bigger, greater problems than his own. It made Harry feel rather small, and when one grows up feeling big and important like he had, the feeling can be very refreshing. The moon was full and huge, setting low near the horizon and had a faint yellow touch to its slithering silver texture, it was so close that Harry could easily pick out its many craters. He sighed wearily, not from lack of sleep -though he was tired- but from the terrible weight that hung over his head, and he gazed off into the moon with a glazed expression, his thoughts flying like the autumn leaves in the wind.

Ron had come tromping into their dormitory, about an hour after Harry himself had left, and had resembled a little boy finally given his greatest wish. Harry smiled slightly at the memory. He hadn't needed to ask his best friend what had happened with him and Hermione in the common room, it had been evident in his glowing blue eyes and his rather flushed face. And Harry was more than happy for his two friends, but there... there was something missing. It had been a long time since Harry had really wondered about his own feelings, or his own wants. He was content to support his ever growing need for comfort in his two best friends, but he had this gnawing feeling that it might not be enough.

Harry ran a pale through his jet black hair, that nearly matched the sky in its deep color, his fingers barely brushing over the lightning scar above his left eye. Harry frowned and traced a finger over the white mark, feeling the smooth, slightly raised texture beneath the pad of his finger. The simple mark represented so much and meant a great deal to the rest of the Wizarding world as well, and Harry wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. It was like a terrible constant weight, a constant reminder of his past, when all he wanted to do was forget, forget and move on. Then there was those terrible dreams, dreams that haunted him in a terrible fear filled world of green and heart wrenching screams and desperate pleads for mercy. There was even a part of the dark Lord in him, dark magic that had been embedded in his soul and body. He felt poisoned. Like a ticking bomb ready to go off.

With a grunt, Harry wrenched his hand angrily from his forehead, and squeezed the rough stone rail in front of him, staring fiercely into the darkness, wanting nothing more than to disappear right at the moment and leave behind the pain and hardship that was slowly setting upon him.

Ginny Weasly asked from the shadows behind the curtains that separated the balcony from the rest of the castle. Harry jumped, having already been set on edge by his dark thoughts, and he reached automatically for his wand. Ginny stepped from the darkness into the moonlight, and Harry felt his breath catch, but he kept his smooth cool exterior.

Geeze Ginny you scared me! he said forcing a smile, and putting a hand dramatically to his chest. Ginny smiled sadly, and Harry knew she'd seen through his pathetic attempt for fake happiness.

The youngest Weasly was no where near the squeaky, shy, and tom boyish girl that Harry had know his first five years at Hogwarts. Ginny had blossomed into a beautiful, and fiery young woman, with a temper to match her older brother Ron, and the charm and grace of her devilish twin brothers. Her flowing cherry red hair was wavy and thick, with a natural sheen that shone in fiery undertones under the yellow-silver light of the moon. Her face was pale and perfect, chiseled into flawless beauty that was discussed among many of the boys at Hogwarts. At the moment she wore a white, spaghetti strapped night dress that billowed slightly in the breeze, the hem of her black cloak fluttering gracefully at her ankles. Harry tried desperately not to stare at her perfectly tempting womanly curves, curves that most girls would give most anything for. Ginny Weasly was most defiantly beautiful. And Harry, like many of the other other boys at school, had most defiantly noticed.

She stepped up beside him, and leaned her elbows on the rail, the light breeze playing with her hair, causing a few strands to brush across her pale face, her blue eyes vivid in the moon light. Harry clasped his hands firmly beneath the folds of his cloak, fighting the slowly rising desire to brush the red strands of silky hair away from her glowing face.

What..what are you doing up this late, he asked, his voice cracking slightly in a betraying manner, as he desperately tried to regain his quickly lost composer. This had been happening allot as of late, Harry seemed to lose his cool when ever the youngest Weasly was near, and he found his heart racing a bit beyond its normal rate when ever she looked his way. These were not good signs, especially when the source of such feelings happened to come from his best friends younger sister.

Ginny shrugged slightly, looking down at her slim, perfect fingers, as she ran them over the cool stone of the rail. I don't know, couldn't sleep I guess, she said wistfully, and Harry had a pretty good feeling there was allot more behind her lax explanation. He edged closer to her, and propped his elbows up beside hers, looking at her sidelong.

Is something wrong Gin? he asked after a second of uncomfortable silence, looking at her with a warm gaze, that nearly melted her carefully placed emotionless exterior. Harry saw the mask slip away, though it was for only an instant, and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat and his heart sink. What he saw was fear, and sadness, as well as something else, something that made him feel lower than dirt, no lower than the smallest, stupidest microorganism known to man. What he saw in Ginny Weasly's, beautiful, bright blue eyes, was worse than being hit by a thousand knives. What he saw was pity. It was elusive and brief, but it was there. Ginny pitied him.

Harry snapped his gaze away from hers, his blood pounding in anger and hurt. He had feelings for Ginny, he could admit that, but he'd always kept himself a good safe distance away from her. Ron had informed him in sixth year that his little sister had indeed out grown her child hood crush on him, but that didn't stop Harry from being cautious around her, even after he'd begun to have the strange feelings. But no matter how hard he had tried, the two had become close friends very quickly, nearly as close as Ron, or Hermione. He had found himself pouring out his bent up feelings to her on a few confusing nights when he'd no one else to turn to, and had been surprised to find a wonderful friendship that he had never realized could happen between them. But as he got closer to Ginny, he also felt his feelings for her grow, though he had refused to believe it was happening to him, that he had indeed crossed the line. He had refused to believe he'd fallen for his best friends little sister. But sometimes one can't help but realize things at the most inopportune times, and that very moment, standing right right next Ginny, alone no less, was the worst moment to realize the one thing he had been fighting for so long. He was in love with her. He loved his best friends little sister. He was in love with Ginny Weasly.

Harry, I... I..., she breathed after a while, her voice so soft and unsure that Harry felt his anger and hurt ebb away. He looked at her then, his gaze searching hers carefully, trying to determine how she might respond to his next question.

Ginny.. do you pity me? he asked slowly, barely breathing, fearing the very worst. Ginny looked taken aback, and her eyes darted back and forth, trying to look in both his intense eyes at once.

Y..Yes, I'm sorry I can't help it....I d..don't mean to she said, barely above a whisper, and Harry nearly lost it in the gentle breeze that had wafted towards them. The words hit him with such force it felt as though she had screamed them, for there was now an almost visible barrier between the two of them.

Despite his own misgivings, and his scattered thoughts that told him to run for it now, before he was hurt anymore then he was then, Harry looked up and met Ginny's gaze. His breath caught again, but this time for a whole other reason. What he saw in those eyes, those eyes that haunted his dreams, and plagued him during the day, in those eyes was something that he would never have dared to hope for. But it was there, clear as day, and Harry couldn't believe he had never seen it before. What he saw was love. Love so deep and intense, it very nearly matched his own, and he found himself unable to breath.

Oh Ginny, he breathed and pulled her against him forcefully, no longer caring what boundaries he had crossed, or what rules he could be breaking. Her arms went instantly around his back, and her face buried its self in his neck. She cried then, long heart felt sobs, that held the fear and pain that she felt. Harry buried his face in her hair, letting the silky strands caress his face, and breathed in the light cinnamon smell that always drove him crazy. He rubbed her back, her hair, her face, as she sobbed into his chest, her tears staining his robes, and Harry vaguely remembered the day Charlie had died, how torn she had looked. She had not cried then, nor had she spoken, that was the day the old Ginny left her, and she grew up, so quickly in fact it had shocked everyone, including Harry.

Ginny was letting loose years of pain and sorrow, and the feelings racked her body so strongly that they both eventually ended up together on the cold stone of the balcony, clutching to each other fearfully, trying to push away the pain and suffering that grew all around them. Harry cried as well, though not in the fierce sobs that Ginny was so consumed by, but in a silent flow of tears. Tears that fell and splattered against Ginny's face and hair, until she lifted her tear streaked face and looked at him.

Harry, please don't you must be strong, for me and for yourself she whispered lovingly, her voice strangely clear, especially after so much crying. She removed his glasses, and carefully, unsure of her self, she kissed away his tears. Harry gasped slightly as Ginny's warm, incredibly soft lips played across his skin, her tongue darting out to lick away the tears he had cried so desperately. She pulled away slightly, finished, and looked into his eyes, their faces not even an inch apart.

I love you Harry, she said, and Harry gasped slightly, but didn't waver.

I love you Ginny, I..I need you so much , he said huskily, and leaned forward, across the half an inch that separated them, and kissed her softly. His mind exploded as his lips touched hers, their soft texture playing across the sensitive skin of his lips. He wrapped his arms more fully around her waist, and gently pushed her onto her back, resting all his weight on her. Her arms circled round his neck, and her fingers delved into the soft, slightly curly hair at the base of his neck, letting it slide between her fingers. Harry tentatively let his tongue touch her lower lip, and she shivered under him, and opened her mouth beneath his. Harry lost all thought of the danger ahead, or the sorrow, or pain, but focussed on the woman in his arms. The woman he had loved for so long it seemed almost wrong he had only realized it some moments before.

His hands traveled to her hips and kneaded them softly, as her knees drew up to let him rest in her lap, her thin nightgown falling around her hips. Carefully, as not to frighten her, Harry let his fingers trail lightly up her leg, relishing in the fantastic warm feeling of her soft flesh. Ginny gasped and the kiss intensified until they were nearly clawing at each other, their hands roaming and touching, discovering each other in a primitive, almost unreal manner.

Harry breathed and pulled back, gazing at her flushed face and puffy bruised lips, her face and neck wet with his kisses, and she looked dazed and so over come by pleasure she barely recognized he'd stopped his fantastic onslaught.

He ran a hand down her soft cheek, engraving her image in his mind, he would need it. When he was lost and alone, with no one to hold onto, when he did at last face Voldemort, he would have that image, that wonderful image to save him. To pull him back.

Thank you Ginny, he said and kissed her forehead softly, so over come by his love for her, he could barely breath.

For what? she asked breathlessly, her eyes soft and her face lax and content.

For saving me, he told her firmly, and kissed her again.

What ever the future held, no matter the danger or the hardship that they might face, they would face it together, and no power on earth, not even Lord Voldemort, could stop the love that blossomed that night.



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The endings cheesy huh? *sigh* I couldn't help it! It was just so sweet! I wrote this second part as a prompt from one of my reviewers! You know who ya are! I kinda wrote this for you.. (Hermione Weasly *cough* did I say that? :-D ) Well I hope ya all like this! LOVE YA! Mwah! Reviews are of course welcomed, very much so actually! HAPPY V-DAY ALL!!!

~Bri~