Ginny, worried about her best friend and her brother's antics, realised she had to discuss this with the only other person who would be caught in the whole mess: Harry. As she slipped quietly out of the noisy common room, Ginny smiled softly at the thought that barely six months ago, she would have been terrified at the idea of simply talking to the legendary Harry Potter. The Harry Potter who had saved her life. The Harry Potter who had saved Ron and Hermione countless times (such is the fate of the friends of a legend). Ginny snorted, knowing that although he had been dubbed a hero, a legend and many other labels, Harry had never done those things deliberately. In his own words, "These things just seem to happen." Ginny knew the boy behind the so-called legend. She knew he had fears, ambitions and dreams just like everyone else. She also knew that whenever he was near her, her breath quickened and her heart beat a little faster. During the summer holidays six months previous, she had finally built up the courage to talk to him, and it didn't take long for the pair to become solid friends, and much more. That is, after Ginny realised Harry was a normal teenager like any other, despite his ability to attract danger from the most unlikely sources, and once Harry had realised that Ginny was not just one of the brainless followers that idolised him for something he didn't even remember, and often wished had not happened at all.

Ginny made her way through the castle, ever cautious for any teachers, or Argus Filch the caretaker and his mangy cat, Mrs Norris. There was not much time before curfew and Ginny couldn't afford getting caught out of bed again this week. Ginny slowly crept across the Entrance Hall, and quietly slipped out of the large double doors that led outside. The cold air stung her cheeks and took her breath away. She gazed at the soft, white blanket that covered everything. The first snow of the season had always been Ginny's favourite. She grinned as she stepped, slowly, almost delicately, into the cold cover, taking great care to not mar the scenery too much with her footprints. It was only a couple of inches deep, but Ginny could tell that by morning there would be drifts of two or three feet, perfect for a snowball fight. She smiled again to herself, as she made her way over to the Quidditch Pitch. She knew that was where Harry would be. He was always out practicing, every night, come rain, hail or shine. Or snow, apparently.

Ginny scooped up a handful of the clean white snow, and started moulding it into a ball, as she entered the Quidditch Pitch and stood on the sidelines, searching for the familiar figure zigzagging across it. She waited until the blur came within range and let loose with her snowball, hitting him square in the back. The flyer let out a yelp, before spinning quickly, wand in hand, arm outstretched, ready to hex whatever danger approached. Ginny smiled to herself.

"He looks awfully cute, when he's trying to be menacing," she thought to herself. Nonetheless, she raised her hands in surrender and stepped out of the shadows. It would never do for him to hex her, particularly for a case of mistaken identity.

"Lumos." Harry cast the light spell, and instantly the Quidditch Pitch was bathed in a bright glow. He recognised Ginny instantly, and a grin broke over his face. He flew down and landed a few feet away, nimbly jumping off his broom in a movement that belied his strength, despite his lean appearance.

"What brings you out here so late?" he asked, slightly breathless but still trying to sound casual. Whenever she was close to him, Ginny could always affect him in ways no one else could. His heart beat faster, not just from his late night workout, and he became nervous for no apparent reason. He ran his clammy fingers through his hair.

Ginny smiled in response to his actions. While he did well at trying to hide it, better than most guys in fact, she was well aware of the affect she had on him, and did nothing to quell his anxiety. She took a few steps closer.

"I just came to see my favourite Quidditch captain hard at work. You're quite skilled at handling that broomstick of yours." She grinned as he swallowed.

"You're pretty good on a broomstick yourself," he replied with a grin. Banter and innuendoes often flew between the pair, though only when there was no one else in earshot. Harry held his Firebolt broomstick out to the side, and hugged Ginny warmly with his other arm.

"I actually came to talk to you about something. I think it's pretty important," Ginny said, when he released her. The pair turned in silent agreement and started walking back towards the castle.

"Go on," Harry encouraged.

"It involved our two best friends. In particular, Ron's idea of turning his quite obvious love for Hermione into a game."

Harry glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye. "How did you know about that?"

"Of all people, Hermione told me. She overheard you and Ron talking in the Entrance Hall earlier tonight,"

"Ah. That can't be good."

"Oh it gets better. Hermione has decided to retaliate. Fight fire with fire, that type of thing,"

"Uh huh."

"Which means," Ginny continued, "someone must help our two lovesick friends, before they completely destroy their chances of getting together. Because if I know Ron and Hermione like I think I do, they're just going to mess it up."

"And I suppose you are just the person to do it?"

Ginny turned to him and grinned. "I got you, didn't I?"  She leaned up and softly brushed his lips with her own. She grinned up into his, and wiggled her eyebrows at him. They had reached the castle by now, and they dashed up the stairs, through the large wooden entrance doors. Laughing madly, they stumbled into one of the many niches along the wall, Ginny giggling as Harry lifted her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, their lips and tongues embracing with equal passion. Harry supported Ginny's bottom with one hand, squeezing it gently, making her moan against his mouth. His other hand made its way up her back, entwining his fingers in Ginny's luxuriant red tresses, marvelling at the softness. His knees folded when he backed up against a bench, and sat down hard, pulling her onto his lap as he did. Ginny ran her hands through his persistently ruffled hair, and down his strong but lean chest, loving the play of his muscles beneath her fingers. Both he and Ginny longed for these brief encounters alone, when they could focus on each other without a care in the world.

Their kisses lessened slightly and the pair came up for breath. Ginny leaned her head against Harry's shoulder and sighed softly. Harry pushed her back gently so he could look into her face. "You ok?" he asked, brushing a loose tendril of hair from her face. He adored the way Ginny fitted perfectly in his arms, how sweet she tasted, how she could kiss him with such fire and passion, or soft and sensuous, whenever the pair were alone. He looked into her chocolate eyes, and was surprised to see a troubled expression there.

"Harry, I hate all this hiding around. We've been together for six months, for goodness sake. It tears me apart when I see you in the corridors or in the Great Hall, and I can't touch you, or kiss you, like other couples. Why all the secrecy? Why can't we tell anyone? " she whispered, a single tear trailing down her cheek. She clung to him with a sudden fragility that Harry had never known. He stroked her hair gently. "I hate it too. I hate that we can only be alone together for a few stolen minutes. But I don't want anything to happen to you,"

Ginny pushed off his chest. "Harry, don't start on that Voldemort-bullshit again."  Her tone was suddenly fierce. "Don't go sprouting those high and mighty ideas that someone will use me to get to you. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. "

"I know." Harry sighed. "I know you can take care of yourself."  Harry surrendered the argument. He had meant it when he had said he hated the subterfuge. "I think you're right. It's been far too long."

"That's just not accept-What? You're agreeing with me?" Ginny had been prepared to put in a lot more persuasion.

"Yes, we should finally, 'come out of the closet,' so to speak," he said, naming one of their frequent retreats. "How about Christmas Day? That way Ron will be in a good mood, and less likely to murder me." He grinned at the startled look on Ginny's face. He had also prepared for this particular argument.

"You mean no more hiding?" she inquired, suspiciously. "We would be free to do whatever we want, wherever we want, and spectators be damned?"

Harry chuckled. "Well, I think shagging on the breakfast table would be taking it a bit far, but yes."

Ginny threw herself forward, hugging him close to her. She released him only long enough to press her lips to his again, kissing him with the joy and fervour in knowing that this would be one of their last clandestine interludes. 'Well,' she thought wickedly, as her tongue duelled fiercely with his, 'it's the last forced one, anyway,' The pair came up for breath, laughing softly, panting heavily, and generally enjoying the other's company, and touch as they held onto one another. Perhaps they would not have been as carefree had they known they were being watched.

A/N: OOOH, Cliffie! Don't worry, I already have the next one written, so you won't have to wait months of it. Hopefully you guys like my H/G moment, as it has been especially requested several times. Anyway, any suggestions or constructive criticisms would be welcome, particularly as to what direction this story should go in. And many thanks again to my beta, Rowena, who made this entire venture readable.