Chapter 2
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah. Not mine(=
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Harry lay in his bead, thinking about the day's events. In the next bed Ron was sleeping fitfully, and he had confessed earlier that he had trouble sleeping ever since the brain attack. Hermione had immediately run down to the library, to see if she could find any remedies.
'When are those two going to get over themselves and admit they have feelings for each other?' he asked himself, grinning. All that self-denial was making them ornery.
'Speaking of denying one's feelings. . .' Harry's thoughts turned to Ginny. He had found it difficult to stop staring at her that night. 'But, why?' thought Harry, 'What's so different about her?' Sure, she looked older, but she was still the same, really. She hadn't spoken much earlier, and that had confused him. He had gotten the impression last year that she was over her crush on him. Too bad.
'Now where did that thought come from?' Harry wondered, mentally shaking his head. For some reason, he found himself wanting Ginny, and he didn't know why. Maybe it had been the light shining through the window and setting of the amber highlights in her hair. Or later, the way the candlelight had gleamed in her fathomless brown eyes.
Whatever it had been, Harry found himself, quite suddenly, thinking about Ginny in an altogether different way then he had before. But maybe Ginny hadn't changed at all. Maybe it was him.
All Harry knew was that nothing had ever seemed so arousing to him as her small pink tongue darting out to moisten her parched lips. He had never had a reaction like that to a girl before. An image of Cho swept through his mind, but he waved it aside in irritation. That had been nothing more then a young boy's crush, an innocent infatuation.
The feelings he was starting to have toward Ginny were anything but innocent.
But it was more then just a physical yearning he was having for Ginny. He had seen beautiful girls before. But there was a gentle grace and. . . sincerity to Ginny that made her more appealing to him then any other. He wanted to be with her, to bask in the glow of her company. He wanted to be the one who made her smile, to hear the sound of her laughter washing over him. He wanted her to look at him in the indulgent, loving way she looked at her brothers.
This last thought shocked him. He wanted Ginny to look at him lovingly? But upon further reflection, the thought didn't seem so far-fetched. He could imagine it now, even. Ginny, sitting in front of him, all the love in the world shining from the very depths of her eyes, and an emotion he didn't want to identify swelled up inside his chest. Over the summer, when the loneliness had seemed to be swallowing him whole, a similar emotion had settled around his heart, unidentifiable to him then, but clear to him now.
He longed for someone he could love.
'But Ginny?' he thought yet again, still trying to deny that it was possible. An image of her formed in his mind. They were in a field, surrounded by flowers, and Ginny was running ahead of him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she beckoned him to follow her. Before Harry knew it, he had been lulled to sleep by the sound of her gentle laughter, and continued to dream of her long into the night.
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The next morning Harry sat waiting for Ron in the commons. They had decided to visit Hagrid after they ate breakfast.
'Maybe I should see if Hermione wants to come,' Harry thought. She would probably be angry if she found out they had gone to Hagrid's without her. He checked his watch. Nine o'clock. It was plenty late enough to wake her up, he decided.
He had put his foot on the first step leading to the girls' dorms when he remembered what had happened the last time Ron had tried to go up there. Sure enough, where there had once been steps there was now a slide. 'There has to be another way to get up there,' Harry thought. He gripped the railing and pulled himself up with his arms, steadying himself by sliding his feet up the steep incline. Within a few minutes he was standing outside the door to the girls' room.
He knocked tentatively, and when he got no answer, he assumed that both girls were still sleeping. He opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Surveying the room, he saw that it was nearly identical to the boys' dorms, except it was a little more, well, girly. Though done in gold and red, as was all of Gryffindor, there were more frills, poufs, and there seemed to be an awful lot of lace everywhere. Harry approached the two beds opposite the door in the circular room, guessing that the one to the left, surrounded by piles of books, was Hermione's.
As he got closer, he realized that the bed, though unmade, was unoccupied. Puzzled, he glanced at the bed on his right, and his breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly beating faster.
Ginny had kicked off most of the covers in her sleep, and only a thin sheet lay twisted around her slim waist. She lay on her back, with one arm raised and her hand curled beneath her chin, her head turned to one side. She wore a tank top that revealed a good amount of cleavage, and her breasts (when had she gotten those?) pressed firmly against the thin material. Her hair lay in a riot around her head, and Harry was reminded of the color of the setting sun. She was breathing evenly through her mouth, her lips gently parted, and a single russet tendril lay across them. Before Harry could stop himself, he was brushing the lock lovingly aside, and the feel of her soft, smooth skin against his fingers had blood rushing to an area it should not be rushing to when looking at a girl he had just last year thought of as a sister. But gazing down at her in her relaxed state, Harry felt strangely moved, and again he got the feeling that a cushion was forming around his heart.
She looked like an angel.
Ginny opened her eyes sleepily and took a deep breath. What a wonderful dream. . . She and Harry had been lying in a field of lilies, and he had been looking deep into her eyes, into her very soul, and saying that he couldn't stand one more day without her. She turned her head, still half asleep, and saw him standing above her. "Harry," she breathed his name, smiling, and reached out toward him.
Harry felt as if he had been petrified. Had she just called out to him? A dreamy smile lit up her face, and she had opened her arms welcomingly to him. Harry got the impression that she was not yet fully awake. When he made no move toward her, she lowered her arms, a small frown creasing her brow. Then he saw the dawning comprehension in her eyes, and they widened to the size of saucers as she squeaked out "Harry!" and sat up quickly, pulling the sheet higher and tucking it under her armpits to hide her scantily clad breasts.
"Umm. . . Harry. . .uh. . .What are you. . ." She glanced uneasily at him and he realized that she was looking for a reason that he might be standing over her bed as she slept.
"Well I was, err. . . looking for Hermione, you know, and. . . umm. . ." he scratched his head, thinking frantically. "Uhh, I was about to wake you up because. . . umm, we were wondering, or actually more I was wondering, really, if you'd like to come visit Hagrid. . . that is, after breakfast, of course. You really don't have to, just thought you might be bored, and, well.you know," he finished lamely.
"Oh okay," Ginny said uncertainly. "Umm, well sure, I guess, I'm not doing anything else." Why was he staring at her like that?
Harry nodded his head, at a loss for what to do next. He decided the best thing was to leave now, before he made a bigger fool of himself. He opened his mouth to say he'd be waiting downstairs when Hermione walked in.
"Harry! How did you get in here?" Hermione asked, surprised. She was dressed in muggle clothing and her hair was wet. She had obviously just come from the showers.
"Pulled myself up on the railing," Harry muttered. Hermione nodded, smiling slightly, and then looked at him in polite expectation, her eyebrows raised inquiringly. After a few moments passed in silence, she prodded, "did you want something?" and Harry snapped out of the near stupor he had been in ever since Ginny had woken up. Why had he come up here in the first place? "Oh yeah, sorry! Ron and I wanted to know if you'd like to come down to breakfast with us before we all went to see Hagrid."
"Sure. I just need to make my bed, so I'll be down in a minute."
"All right then," Harry said, muttered "see you in a few" to Ginny, and then rushed off hurriedly.
Hermione turned to Ginny, eyebrows raised, "Well he was acting strangely, don't you think? What were you two talking about before I came in, anyway?"
"Oh, he was just asking if I'd like to join you all," then she hesitated, "But. . ."
"'But. . .' what?"
"Well," Ginny said, her brow furrowed, "I think he might have been just watching me sleep. When I woke up, he was just standing over me, and when I asked him why he was here it seemed like he didn't know what to say. I think he only invited me 'cause he couldn't think of any other excuses for what he was doing."
Hermione looked thoughtful for a second, and then she gave Ginny a knowing look, a smug smile on her face.
"And just what, exactly, is that look supposed to mean?" Ginny asked.
"I think you know exactly what it means," Hermione grinned mischievously, "he fancies you."
"No he does not!" Ginny said, shocked.
"Oh yeah, boys just stand staring at sleeping girls for no reason. Of course he likes you." Hermione said reasonably.
"Not necessarily," Ginny said, balking. "He could have been thinking 'Oy, she really needs to brush her teeth better' or 'her hair looks like a rats nest'."
"Or 'Wow, her boobs look a helluva lot bigger when she's not wearing a bra." Ginny gasped and threw her pillow at Hermione who caught it, laughing, and tossed it back to her. "Oh, come on. He's smitten with you," Hermione said fluttering her eyelashes teasingly. "Don't pretend you don't like the idea, you've had a crush on him for five years. And don't tell me that you're over him, because I know you're not."
"Exactly," Ginny said forcefully. "I've liked him for five years and he knew it. So why wouldn't he just come out and say that he was starting to feel something for me if he knows that I feel that way about him?"
"Maybe he doesn't know that," Hermione reasoned. "After all, I can see right through you, but boys are dense. For the past year, you've tried to make it look like you've given up on him, and maybe he's convinced. I mean, you're dating someone else, Ginny."
"Hmmm. . ." Ginny chewed this over for a second, then she shook her head decisively. "No, if he wanted me, he would have given some kind of indication before now. A person's feelings don't just change overnight."
But Hermione looked thoughtful once again. She shrugged her shoulders, "You never know," she said, straightening the covers on her bed, "Maybe they can."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pllllllllllllllease Review. Thank you!!!
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah. Not mine(=
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Harry lay in his bead, thinking about the day's events. In the next bed Ron was sleeping fitfully, and he had confessed earlier that he had trouble sleeping ever since the brain attack. Hermione had immediately run down to the library, to see if she could find any remedies.
'When are those two going to get over themselves and admit they have feelings for each other?' he asked himself, grinning. All that self-denial was making them ornery.
'Speaking of denying one's feelings. . .' Harry's thoughts turned to Ginny. He had found it difficult to stop staring at her that night. 'But, why?' thought Harry, 'What's so different about her?' Sure, she looked older, but she was still the same, really. She hadn't spoken much earlier, and that had confused him. He had gotten the impression last year that she was over her crush on him. Too bad.
'Now where did that thought come from?' Harry wondered, mentally shaking his head. For some reason, he found himself wanting Ginny, and he didn't know why. Maybe it had been the light shining through the window and setting of the amber highlights in her hair. Or later, the way the candlelight had gleamed in her fathomless brown eyes.
Whatever it had been, Harry found himself, quite suddenly, thinking about Ginny in an altogether different way then he had before. But maybe Ginny hadn't changed at all. Maybe it was him.
All Harry knew was that nothing had ever seemed so arousing to him as her small pink tongue darting out to moisten her parched lips. He had never had a reaction like that to a girl before. An image of Cho swept through his mind, but he waved it aside in irritation. That had been nothing more then a young boy's crush, an innocent infatuation.
The feelings he was starting to have toward Ginny were anything but innocent.
But it was more then just a physical yearning he was having for Ginny. He had seen beautiful girls before. But there was a gentle grace and. . . sincerity to Ginny that made her more appealing to him then any other. He wanted to be with her, to bask in the glow of her company. He wanted to be the one who made her smile, to hear the sound of her laughter washing over him. He wanted her to look at him in the indulgent, loving way she looked at her brothers.
This last thought shocked him. He wanted Ginny to look at him lovingly? But upon further reflection, the thought didn't seem so far-fetched. He could imagine it now, even. Ginny, sitting in front of him, all the love in the world shining from the very depths of her eyes, and an emotion he didn't want to identify swelled up inside his chest. Over the summer, when the loneliness had seemed to be swallowing him whole, a similar emotion had settled around his heart, unidentifiable to him then, but clear to him now.
He longed for someone he could love.
'But Ginny?' he thought yet again, still trying to deny that it was possible. An image of her formed in his mind. They were in a field, surrounded by flowers, and Ginny was running ahead of him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she beckoned him to follow her. Before Harry knew it, he had been lulled to sleep by the sound of her gentle laughter, and continued to dream of her long into the night.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next morning Harry sat waiting for Ron in the commons. They had decided to visit Hagrid after they ate breakfast.
'Maybe I should see if Hermione wants to come,' Harry thought. She would probably be angry if she found out they had gone to Hagrid's without her. He checked his watch. Nine o'clock. It was plenty late enough to wake her up, he decided.
He had put his foot on the first step leading to the girls' dorms when he remembered what had happened the last time Ron had tried to go up there. Sure enough, where there had once been steps there was now a slide. 'There has to be another way to get up there,' Harry thought. He gripped the railing and pulled himself up with his arms, steadying himself by sliding his feet up the steep incline. Within a few minutes he was standing outside the door to the girls' room.
He knocked tentatively, and when he got no answer, he assumed that both girls were still sleeping. He opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Surveying the room, he saw that it was nearly identical to the boys' dorms, except it was a little more, well, girly. Though done in gold and red, as was all of Gryffindor, there were more frills, poufs, and there seemed to be an awful lot of lace everywhere. Harry approached the two beds opposite the door in the circular room, guessing that the one to the left, surrounded by piles of books, was Hermione's.
As he got closer, he realized that the bed, though unmade, was unoccupied. Puzzled, he glanced at the bed on his right, and his breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly beating faster.
Ginny had kicked off most of the covers in her sleep, and only a thin sheet lay twisted around her slim waist. She lay on her back, with one arm raised and her hand curled beneath her chin, her head turned to one side. She wore a tank top that revealed a good amount of cleavage, and her breasts (when had she gotten those?) pressed firmly against the thin material. Her hair lay in a riot around her head, and Harry was reminded of the color of the setting sun. She was breathing evenly through her mouth, her lips gently parted, and a single russet tendril lay across them. Before Harry could stop himself, he was brushing the lock lovingly aside, and the feel of her soft, smooth skin against his fingers had blood rushing to an area it should not be rushing to when looking at a girl he had just last year thought of as a sister. But gazing down at her in her relaxed state, Harry felt strangely moved, and again he got the feeling that a cushion was forming around his heart.
She looked like an angel.
Ginny opened her eyes sleepily and took a deep breath. What a wonderful dream. . . She and Harry had been lying in a field of lilies, and he had been looking deep into her eyes, into her very soul, and saying that he couldn't stand one more day without her. She turned her head, still half asleep, and saw him standing above her. "Harry," she breathed his name, smiling, and reached out toward him.
Harry felt as if he had been petrified. Had she just called out to him? A dreamy smile lit up her face, and she had opened her arms welcomingly to him. Harry got the impression that she was not yet fully awake. When he made no move toward her, she lowered her arms, a small frown creasing her brow. Then he saw the dawning comprehension in her eyes, and they widened to the size of saucers as she squeaked out "Harry!" and sat up quickly, pulling the sheet higher and tucking it under her armpits to hide her scantily clad breasts.
"Umm. . . Harry. . .uh. . .What are you. . ." She glanced uneasily at him and he realized that she was looking for a reason that he might be standing over her bed as she slept.
"Well I was, err. . . looking for Hermione, you know, and. . . umm. . ." he scratched his head, thinking frantically. "Uhh, I was about to wake you up because. . . umm, we were wondering, or actually more I was wondering, really, if you'd like to come visit Hagrid. . . that is, after breakfast, of course. You really don't have to, just thought you might be bored, and, well.you know," he finished lamely.
"Oh okay," Ginny said uncertainly. "Umm, well sure, I guess, I'm not doing anything else." Why was he staring at her like that?
Harry nodded his head, at a loss for what to do next. He decided the best thing was to leave now, before he made a bigger fool of himself. He opened his mouth to say he'd be waiting downstairs when Hermione walked in.
"Harry! How did you get in here?" Hermione asked, surprised. She was dressed in muggle clothing and her hair was wet. She had obviously just come from the showers.
"Pulled myself up on the railing," Harry muttered. Hermione nodded, smiling slightly, and then looked at him in polite expectation, her eyebrows raised inquiringly. After a few moments passed in silence, she prodded, "did you want something?" and Harry snapped out of the near stupor he had been in ever since Ginny had woken up. Why had he come up here in the first place? "Oh yeah, sorry! Ron and I wanted to know if you'd like to come down to breakfast with us before we all went to see Hagrid."
"Sure. I just need to make my bed, so I'll be down in a minute."
"All right then," Harry said, muttered "see you in a few" to Ginny, and then rushed off hurriedly.
Hermione turned to Ginny, eyebrows raised, "Well he was acting strangely, don't you think? What were you two talking about before I came in, anyway?"
"Oh, he was just asking if I'd like to join you all," then she hesitated, "But. . ."
"'But. . .' what?"
"Well," Ginny said, her brow furrowed, "I think he might have been just watching me sleep. When I woke up, he was just standing over me, and when I asked him why he was here it seemed like he didn't know what to say. I think he only invited me 'cause he couldn't think of any other excuses for what he was doing."
Hermione looked thoughtful for a second, and then she gave Ginny a knowing look, a smug smile on her face.
"And just what, exactly, is that look supposed to mean?" Ginny asked.
"I think you know exactly what it means," Hermione grinned mischievously, "he fancies you."
"No he does not!" Ginny said, shocked.
"Oh yeah, boys just stand staring at sleeping girls for no reason. Of course he likes you." Hermione said reasonably.
"Not necessarily," Ginny said, balking. "He could have been thinking 'Oy, she really needs to brush her teeth better' or 'her hair looks like a rats nest'."
"Or 'Wow, her boobs look a helluva lot bigger when she's not wearing a bra." Ginny gasped and threw her pillow at Hermione who caught it, laughing, and tossed it back to her. "Oh, come on. He's smitten with you," Hermione said fluttering her eyelashes teasingly. "Don't pretend you don't like the idea, you've had a crush on him for five years. And don't tell me that you're over him, because I know you're not."
"Exactly," Ginny said forcefully. "I've liked him for five years and he knew it. So why wouldn't he just come out and say that he was starting to feel something for me if he knows that I feel that way about him?"
"Maybe he doesn't know that," Hermione reasoned. "After all, I can see right through you, but boys are dense. For the past year, you've tried to make it look like you've given up on him, and maybe he's convinced. I mean, you're dating someone else, Ginny."
"Hmmm. . ." Ginny chewed this over for a second, then she shook her head decisively. "No, if he wanted me, he would have given some kind of indication before now. A person's feelings don't just change overnight."
But Hermione looked thoughtful once again. She shrugged her shoulders, "You never know," she said, straightening the covers on her bed, "Maybe they can."
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