The rather messy array of Kaleidoscope-like shapes of moonlight and shadow that the ceiling of the smallest bedroom of The Burrow hosted, was far from remarkable. However, despite its monotonously-normal form, it had won itself the constant gaze of a pair of serious brown eyes who had not left the ceiling for the past four hours. Every one of the few times these eyes would blink, another tear, smaller than a pea, but heavier than a cannonball, would roll labourously down the side of a freckled nose, trickle over the bump of a freckled cheek and disappear into woven folds of the pillow beneath.

Ginny sighed and blinked. She wished the tears would stop erupting from her eyes like this – what if Harry was to see her now? Courageous, valiant Harry who'd faced danger in the face so many times, and never cried…what would he think of her if he saw her blubbering like a baby because of a wee heartbreak? He was asleep in Ron's room, after all, only one floor above her…besides, she's a Gryffindor, Gryffindors don't cry…

Ginny held her breath for a moment to calm herself down, and through the silence that followed, the sound of soft sleepy breathing drifted over from the other side of the room. Ginny jerked her eyes off the ceiling for the first time since she'd climbed into bed four hours earlier, and glanced across the room at the bed parallel to hers, where the sleeping form of Hermione lay fast asleep.

The luckiest girl in the world, Ginny thought bitterly. Boy, has she got it all – looks, brains, admirers (it was going to be a long time before Ginny forgot the look on every single face in the Great Hall when Hermione walked in with Krum at the start of the Yule Ball), a pet of her own, good marks, Harry…

This last thought rebounded like an Ever-Bashing Boomerang inside Ginny's head for a moment that seemed like an eternity. Harry. The boy she loved…the boy she'd always dreamed of, the boy whose warm caring heart, sweet personality and smile had captured her heart for years…the boy Hermione loves, the painful pang in her heart reminded her…the boy who loves Hermione…

Ginny hurriedly wiped away the two heavy tears that had leaked from both her eyes with a sweep of her bare arm. I can't take any more of this, she thought…lying here thinking like this…it's too much… She glanced out through her open window at the cloudy midsummer night sky. Maybe a mug of hot chocolate would do me some good, she thought, perhaps with a spot of Butterbeer…in her present condition, anything of the sort sounded like a good idea, and this was a solution to most emotional problems that hadn't failed her since her mother had introduced her to it, at the age of three.

She sat up and kicked off her quilt, wiping her face on the short sleeve of Bill's old T-shirt, which had served as her nightshirt for as long as she could remember. Second hand, she thought with an internal snort of disgust, just like the rest of me. But then, almost automatically, she found herself thinking of the shirt's predecessor and the grinning face of her eldest brother seemed to materialize in front of her. Her favourite brother, the brother to whom she was always special, who always had time for her, always loved her to pieces, like she loved him…

The smallest of smiles crept across her face as she recalled Bill's old tickling games as she absent-mindedly descended the rough-oak stairs. Her subconscious was rather glad to break away momentarily from the misery she'd been engulfed in for two weeks.

A few minutes later, she stood in the shadowy kitchen, stirred the steaming cocoa and Butterbeer around her mug, gazing distractedly out of the kitchen window at the large overgrown garden, mottled with moonlight and shadow. It was a few moments before she realised what she was seeing.

Clearly silhouetted against the navy-purple sky, a tallish figure stood leaning on the wire fence encircling the small frog-pond in the centre of the Burrow's back garden. Although there was nothing about the solid black of his outline to hint his identity, the sudden warm rush she felt in her heart when she saw him, told her quite clearly that it was Harry. She leaned on the kitchen marble, sipping her cocoa, staring uncertainly at his statue-like contour for a minute or so, semiconsciously debating on whether she ought to go out there and join him. Before she was aware of the forming of any conclusion of any sort in her mind, she found herself pushing the screen door open and silently approaching the frog-pond. She paused, ten feet behind him, and waited.

"Hello Ginny," said Harry softly, without turning around, or indeed moving at all, but merely continuing to gaze blankly over the grimy surface of the circular pool.

"How – how did you know it was me?" Ginny asked, startled.

The slight pause that followed gave her the impression Harry was pondering his answer. She was just thinking, take your time, sweetheart, when Harry shook his head in mild bewilderment, and muttered, "I dunno, instinct…I suppose...sort of like the way I know a Bludger's coming at me from behind without hearing it..."

"Oh, I see," Ginny smiled, walking up to him and standing by his side, "I'm a Bludger now, am I?"

Harry shot her a very quick sideways glance, then looked back at the water. "No, no, I didn't mean..."

"Calm down, Harry," Ginny laughed. "I was only teasing..."

Despite his usual quick-witted self, Harry seemed slightly slow on the uptake this time, and he merely gave a small and relieved, "Oh."

As a cloud shifted overhead, the moon glided into view and the two teenagers' silhouettes became more detailed. Ginny could now see Harry's face - rather blank, yet she noticed there was some strain around his eyebrows and his eyes were thoughtful and bemused.

He's Hermione's her conscience reminded her. So don't go getting any ideas…you've no right to him…

"So….what are you doing up?" Ginny inquired, leaning her folded arms on the fence too. "It's two forty-five a.m."

"I…. couldn't sleep," Harry said quietly, his eyes on a nearby water lily. "…too much on my mind."

"Boy, is that a feeling I can relate to," Ginny grinned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry lowered his eyes and his mouth began to fold into a slightly awkward smile that read 'not really, thanks,' so Ginny gave him a small nudge and smiled.

"You can talk to me, you know," she said playfully. "I'm not just Ron's little ten-year-old sister anymore. I understand some things. I'm a teenager too, you know."

A small gleam of dawning flickered on in Harry's acid-green eyes, and before he realised it, his eyes were sweeping over her up and down like an X-ray beam, from her bare feet nestled in the grass, to her legs to the teenager torso behind the baggy T-shirt, and finally in some sort of climax – to the mature twinkle in her eyes.

"Yeah, I noticed," Harry heard himself mutter slowly.

Ginny smiled internally.

"So, what's on your mind?" she pressed, feeling extremely pleased that for once Harry was seeing her for who she was. "Is it Voldemort?"

"Yeah, well…partially…I mean…" Harry began, then cut himself across and frowned slightly. "Since when do you call him Voldemort? Isn't it always 'You-Know-Who' in you fami - "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ginny laughed, waving an impatient hand. "Well, just goes to show much talking you and I have been doing over the past three years. Unlike the rest of my family, I haven't called him You-Know-Who since the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry's frown morphed neatly into an expression of curious bewilderment. "Why?"

"I'll tell you some other time," Ginny smiled mysteriously, and thought Harry looked slightly disappointed. "So, what about Vol- sorry, You-Know-Who?"

Harry grinned, then sighed. "He's back, isn't he? And I'm number one on his 'Wanted' list, and I'm just…well, I suppose I'm worried that it'll turn out to be like with all those Muggles superheroes…" Harry faked the harsh, menacing voice of the Green Goblin "…This is why only fools are heroes, because you never know when some lunatic's going to come up with a sadistic choice…let die the woman you love…or suffer the little children…"

"You're – you're not worried about yourself?" Ginny asked in mild disbelief.

Harry shook his head, making his fringe sway slightly and the scar slid into view, perched right between his eyebrows. "Not really. I'm more concerned about the people I love most…"

"You mean Hermione," Ginny muttered glumly to herself, though not as quietly as she'd intended, because Harry suddenly looked very serious.

"I mean you," he said, staring piercingly into her eyes. Ginny's heart didn't get the chance to bounce upwards like a space shuttle, because Harry didn't even pause for a breath before continuing. "…the Weasleys, I mean. And, yes, Hermione too, and Hagrid… I mean, you're the only family I have in the world. Well, apart from…"

"Sirius?" Ginny whispered, and seeing the startled look on his face, she added, "Mum and Ron told us all about Dumbledore's orders in the hospital wing after the Third Task, how he trusts Sirius, and everything that happened two years ago with Scabbers…"

Harry nodded, his head hunched between his shoulders as he gazed back at pond.

"Listen Harry," Ginny said soothingly, and, feeling a stab of daring, placed her hand on his arm. "I'm not worried about Voldemort in the least. He doesn't scare me. You've faced him, what, four times now? Four times he's tried to kill you, three times he tried rising to power, and you stopped him in his tracks. I've got complete faith in you, Harry, the whole family has. You saved my life in a situation when even unicorn blood wouldn't have saved me. So silly old Voldie doesn't bother me anymore. And as long as you're around, Voldemort's got no chance. You've beaten him three times, you can do again, and you will. I never doubted you for a second. I know that you'll be the one to make him disappear again, and maybe now that he's got a body he can be killed. The whole Wizarding World believes in you. Well, forget the Slytherins, Fudge and Rita Skeeter, they're not important…"

She placed her fingertips under his chin and made him look into her eyes. "…nothing's going to happen to any of us. We'll be fine. You'll be great, and when the time comes for you to face Voldemort, we'll be with you all the way."

A ringing silence followed, and Harry continued to gaze into Ginny's eyes, even though her fingertips had left his chin long ago. For a moment, his left eye twitched and he looked like he was about to cry, but then the serious face melted into a warm grateful smile.

"Thanks, Ginny," he said softly.

"Anytime, Harry," she smiled back sweetly. "That's what family's for, isn't it?"

At these words, Harry wrapped his arms around her and embraced her like a brother. She hugged him back, her arms around his neck, and though she was overjoyed on the one hand, her heart couldn't help sighing bitterly, as she thought And that's all I'll ever be to you – family, a wee sister.

Harry's heart gave a strange judder, and began fluttering powerfully as though a million butterflies had suddenly Apparated into it. For a moment, it confused him, then he accepted it, feeling almost pleased with the feeling. It almost felt right… Ginny thought she sensed the change in Harry's heartbeat through her chest, and felt her heart emulate his. But as they sensed a pair of sharp accusing yellow eyes watching them, they turned to see Crookshanks glaring menacingly at them from the kitchen doorway, and as the word "Hermione" landed like a bomb in both minds, they broke apart guiltily.

"Well, I suppose I'd better get to bed," Ginny said softly. "It's Wednesday morning, 3 a.m."

"That's a Muggle song, you know," Harry remembered suddenly. "By Simon and Garfunkel. It's really nice."

"Really?" said Ginny, intrigued. "How does it go?"

Harry shook his head, very embarrassed. "I can't sing it."

"Go ahead, no one's listening," Ginny smiled challengingly.

"I'm not going to."

"Please?"

"Go away, Crookshanks," Harry said to the cat, then relented and cleared his throat and sang softly, "I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love -" then suddenly realised what he was saying and stopped abruptly.

"Would that be Hermione?" Ginny heard herself asking, dreading the answer.

Harry thought momentarily of Hermione's pretty face, and wondered what she'd think if she knew he was serenading Ginny like this. Then he looked into Ginny's sparkling eyes and decided the only truthful answer to her question was, "Good night, Ginny."

Ginny arched a questioning eyebrow at him, then smiled and said, "Good night. Oh, and I loved your impersonation of Norman Osborn as the Green Goblin. It was perfect."

"How do you know about that? the Spiderman film's only in the Muggle world, isn't it?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Hey, my dad works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, doesn't he?" Ginny shrugged mysteriously. "I make it my business to keep up to date with new Muggle releases and everything."

"There's a lot I don't know about you, isn't there?" Harry muttered admiringly.

"Loads," was the cheerful reply. "But if you want, I could let you find out…"

Harry nodded vaguely. "I'd like that."

"Good, so would I," Ginny beamed. "Good night, Harry. Again."

As she turned to walk through the long grass to the kitchen door, Harry followed her with his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions flitting through him. Before she'd reached the door, Harry heard himself call her.

"Oh, and by the way, I like your T-shirt."

Ginny turned around, the moonlight gleaming in her eyes. "Thanks, it used to be Bill's."

"Well, you look good in it…I mean, it looks good on you…I mean…" Harry struggled for words, but Ginny, flushed with pleasure, got the gist.

"Thanks!"

The door closed and Harry stood alone by the pond, a solitary black silhouette in the cloudy summer night. As he tried to make sense of the jumbled feelings he was smitten with, Ginny climbed into bed.

Once again, the rather messy array of Kaleidoscope-like shapes of moonlight and shadow that the ceiling of the smallest bedroom of The Burrow hosted won the constant gaze of a pair of brown eyes, but they were no longer tear-laden and serious, they were sleepy and twinkling with content. Before she drifted off to a soft sleep, Ginny glanced down at her nightshirt and thought of Harry's compliment. It did make her look more grown up, and Harry liked it…

Thanks Bill, she thought and almost instantly floated off into a light-hearted, satisfied sleep.

!!