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"Harry, have you seen Ginny?" Ron Called over the shrieks of laughter that filled the room. A Gryffindor Quidditch championship always meant celebration, but tonight, Lee Jordan had fleeced more than enough firewhiskey and overly potent butterbeer to turn the celebrations particularly rowdy. The 5'th years and over had gathered in the ever-useful room created to fill neccessities (personally, Ron suspected that the room was created with this very use in mind) and the party had escalated to full tilt.
Harry Potter, the tall young man with the glasses and raven hair pulled himself away from the reeling Dean 'drinking' Seamus for a moment to face his best friend.
"What?!" He shouted. Although they were a foot apart from each other, they still had to scream to be heard. The Gangly redhead repeated the question three times until finally, the boy who lived got a clue. Harry shrugged and shook his head, all the while being jostled about by the excited throng. Still clutching his butterbeer, Ron screamed onwards:
"Mabye we out to find her, she had a lot tonight!"
Hermione wove between the giggling Lavender and a very pleased Neville up beside the boys. She had violently protested the party, even threatened to expose them to the staff, but in the end Ron worked his Weasley charm on her and she had sulkily relented. At the moment, she certainly didn't seem to protest the butterbeer (of which she was drinking liberally) and there were especially no signs of protest to Seamus Finnigan's arm draped across her shoulder and his face pressed into her hair. She shouted something happily to them and sloshed her butterbeer over her head in a very celebratory manner. Seamus then whispered in her ear, sending her into a fit of very un-Hermione-like giggles. The two disappeared back into the group, leaving a very indignant red faced Ron and a confused Harry.
Before Harry could stop him, Ron stormed into the crowd in the same general direction, stumbling only slightly. This left Harry alone with his own butterbeer. He remembered Ginny and decided it best to seek her out. She could certainly hold her own in the drinking games, as she proved earlier tonight, but it never hurt to be careful.
She was Ron' s baby sister after all. He had to be sure.
He found her curled up in the Gryffindor common room, cradling a bottle of smuggled Odgen's firewhiskey closely to her chest. Her lightly dangling legs were draped across the cushioned arm. Harry crept up alongside the oversized armchair and tentatively pried her fingers loose from the neck of the bottle. She softly moaned and pouted in protest, but otherwise let the Odgen's go.
Holding the bottle up to the firelight, Harry saw that there was only a small swill of the amber liquid left at the bottom. He sighed and struggled with the idea of taking her to the infirmary as a precaution but eventually gave up on that. There would be no way to explain her drunken state to the pomp and motherly Madame Pomfrey.
It certainly wasn't wise to simply let her alone either. There was no way of knowing how the alcohol would affect her. He looked down at the small girl with the messy halo of long red hair. She seemed fine enough. With her lips and cheeks flushed pink, as if she had just been out in the chilly night air. Harry vaugely felt the warmth of the dying fire on the side of his face. Momentarily fascinated but the way her slightly upturned nose was lightly dusted with freckles, he watched her sleep with the stubborn little frown lining her mouth. Were it not for the sour smell of whiskey hanging about the air, she could have been the picture of girlish innocence.
Harry ran a hand through his forever messy black hair and considered his options. The party was not a good place for a person of Ginny's state to be in. The noise and smell would certainly bother her, and there was always the chance she would get hold of more butterbeer. The Infirmary was out, and he couldn't leave her alone in the dorm. He gave an audible sigh as his hand dropped to his side. The only thing to do was stay here with the little sleeping Weasley.
Harry threw the Odgen's to the side and slipped one arms under her shoulders and hooked the other beneath her knee. Ginny's scarlet head lolled into his shoulder and he could feel her warm breath on his collar. He softly grunted as he lifted her up from the massive armchair. Silently cursing Ron for allowing his sister to drink so much, he sank himself into the plush seat and settled Ginny so that she was comfortable. Her legs dangled once more over the soft arm of the seat and her body was held mostly upright by Harry's strong arm, her head was still tucked forwards against the hollow of his throat. Now stationary, Harry became even more aware of her quiet breaths against his neck.
All of a sudden he was struck by how very soft her hair was. It spilled across his shoulder and down her back, and in the dim light it seemed to be a river of soft ripples. He adjusted Ginny so that he could free the hand that wasn't cradling her head. Her hair was softer even than it looked. He buried his fingers in it and watched it fan down across her lap as she slept. By now, the whole situation seemed all to surreal for Harry Potter. Here in his lap was little Virginia Weasley, Ginny, the stubborn frown on her small mouth was strangely entrancing. He dimly registered that he was staring down at the girls petite face, oddly dumbstruck. She mumbled softly and shifted into him, making him start and the blood flush to his face.
No. He reminded himself. Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister. She wasn't a girl. Well, yes she was, but not like the other girls. Ginny was the one who had the firey Weasley temper, the one who could prank as well as Fred and George. She was the one who Hermione played wizarding snap with late in the common room, the little girl with the frog collection, and the soft hair, and the softer laugh.........
Harry hated the hitch in his breath. Ginny wasn't to be thought of like that. She was Ron's little sister, not made for kissing and boys. He annoyed himself with the fact that she had a que of admirers in her year, and had probably kissed plenty of boys. The image of her and her boyfriend of the previous year snogging in the 4th floor corridor had never bothered him this much before. It used to be feelings of embaressment when he was reminded of finding them there on his way to herbology. Now he felt the heat rise again in his cheeks and had the most compelling urge to throw Adrian Bode out of the astronomy tower. Instead he contented himself with cradling Ginny closer to him so that her nose pressed into his neck and he felt her lip brush his jaw.
The hairs on the back of his arms stood straight up.
Every muscle in Harry's body was tense. He was very aware of Ginny sighing contentedly and her small frown lessened as she curled her small hand up against his chest. He slowly, tentatively lowered his hand from her liquid fire hair and eased it towards his chest. Harry's calloused brown fingers hand from hours on his broom made her slender white one seem all the more delicate, so it was with great care that he pressed them together and took her cool hand into his warm fist.
They stayed there, although for how long, Harry would never be able to say. All he understood was the softness of her fingers curling and uncurling within his own, her long spill of hair, her breath against his jaw, her powdery skin.........
Without knowing what compelled him, Harry Potter pressed his lips against Ginny Weasley's smooth forehead. He let them linger there for a moment, enjoying the soft coolness of her skin and how she let a contented sigh into his bowed neck. Harry gave way.
Ginny was there with him, and that was all he needed. For her to be there, as she had always been. Laughing, helping, loving.
Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley he thought dreamily as he drifted to sleep.
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Ginny Weasley awoke in the arms of Harry Potter.
She still held the final dregs of elation from the drinks earlier. The common room was dark and only a few embers remained in the once blazing hearth. She barely gave thought to how she had gotten into the embrace with Harry, his arm clutching her to him and their hands cradled against his chest. She thought instead of how perfect it was to be here. How she relished his strong arms and how his boyish face with an edge of handsome features was bowed so protectively over her own. She felt warm and content and impossibly happy through her sleepy haze as she realized that Harry, her young hero was here to protect her.
Ginny tilted her pixie-like face upwards and pressed her soft lips to Harry's cheek, breathing in the moment.
When she fell asleep again, Ginny's frown was replaced by a delicate smile.
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