Disclaimer: I own nothing. The song belongs to Fiona Apple.

A/N: song lyrics in bold italics.

Slow Like Honey

by India Ink

You moved like honey in my dream last night

Yeah, some old fires were burning

You came near to me and you endeared to me

But you couldn't quite discern me.

Her long hair fanned out onto the pure white snow. It looked like a fire from a distance--crimson, gold, and soft brown intertwined, emanating a strong warmth even from a distance.

Her long arms made an upward trail in the snow, then back down again to her sides simultaneously with her toned, graceful legs. Every movement was slow, slow like honey.

Harry could not stop watching her; he was entranced, and she was addictive. It was early on Saturday morning, Christmas eve, in fact--the sun had just barely risen, so no one else was awake. But Harry hadn't been able to sleep that night, so he stopped trying at about three o'clock in the morning.

I'll let you see me, I'll covet your regard

I'll invade your demeanor

And you'll yield to me like a scent in the breeze

And you'll wonder what it is about me

Instead, he meandered around the Hogwarts grounds, and stopped when he saw the slow dance Ginny choreographed while lying in the snow. He knew he should turn away soon--but he could not.

Her eyes were closed, and he longed to gaze into them once more. To see her intense but soft chocolate brown eyes.

Logic told him he should leave these fantasies in the safety of his mind, but lately he could not stop looking at her. Every blink of her eyes, every turn of her head, every step she took was beautiful, magical. And it was a magic far stronger than any Harry had ever experienced before, which was saying a lot.

Ever since he learned of the prophecy, Harry had surprisingly not been very depressed. Instead, he felt distant--separated from the rest of the world. He knew he could never be normal, so he never got too close to anyone anymore.

Except Ginny.

Unlike the others, she never pretended that 'everything would be alright'. She didn't treat him like some incredible hero, but she also understood why he had to distance himself. After the Chamber of Secrets, of course she would be different--Voldemort had left a piece of himself in her soul, and she could never break that connection, just as Harry could not for himself.

They didn't talk to each other much, but the silences were so much more full and meaningful than with Ron or Hermione. Harry still valued all of his friendships, but at this point no one could deny the awkwardness of any situation that involved him.

And he was tired of trying to explain himself to everyone. That's what was so special about Ginny. He never had to say anything. She already knew.

When they did talk, she would always make him laugh--genuinely laugh as he had never before laughed in his life. Talking to her, looking into her eyes was like a dream.

Though dreams can be deceiving

Like faces are to hearts

They serve for sweet relieving

When fantasy and reality lie too far apart

The saddest thing to Harry wasn't the prophecy, or his probable fate, or the probable fate of his friends. The saddest thing was that no one understood how incredible Ginny was. Nobody understood how much she had been through, how much pain she had suffered and fought, and how strong she was now. Her mystery was attractive to many other males, but they could not handle the depth of it.

She was perfect.

Harry never knew what perfection meant; he had always assumed it didn't really exist. But now he knew--Ginny was perfection. And it had absolutely nothing to do with mistakes; it had to do with her very soul.

Perhaps he had been too timid before to confront her about his feelings, or perhaps he just couldn't find the words. But if there was any chance of true love for Harry; if there was any chance for true happiness and fulfillment, he would only ever be able to find it in Ginny. She was the only gift he wanted for Christmas. The only gift he had ever really wanted for his heart, though he did not realize it until very recently.

And hopefully no words were needed to express that, because he didn't have any that would suffice. He began to walk towards her.

--------------------

Ginny felt alive. Most of the time she was only surviving, hanging on by a thread of hope that someday, somehow she would find fulfillment. In her heart she knew she could never truly have that unless she had him, but there were small moments like these when she felt so free.

Making snow angels in itself was a trivial task, but the way it felt to lay in the snow with her eyes closed, just feeling the cool softness, she couldn't help but smile.

She smiled as she thought of Harry. Sadness overcame her every time she thought about how she couldn't have him--how he didn't see her the way she saw him.

But my big secret

Gonna hover over your life

Gonna keep you reaching

But just thinking about him--about his green eyes that had become dull, dark, and closed over the past few years but lit up sometimes when she talked to him. Thinking about how she loved to make him laugh. His happiness meant the world to her--and if her only purpose was to give him a few seconds of happiness every once in a while, she would accept that.

Still, if only he knew how much she loved him. She did not desire anything for Christmas except him. If only he knew...

"Ginny."

Her eyes flew open and she saw him standing above her, looking like some kind of dark angel.

"Angel," he said, the lone word echoing her thoughts.

She smiled even more, her large brown eyes sparkling, "Yes, I make snow angels in the wee hours of the morning," she said.

He did not smile, but instead said, "I wasn't talking about the snow."

Ginny was surprised, to say the least, but she wasn't stupid. She caught on to what he meant and found herself speechless. She stood up, not knowing what else to do.

Harry took one of her gloved hands in his. He slowly removed the glove and just stood there, observing her smooth pale hand, caressing it lightly with his own bare index finger and memorizing every single freckle.

Ginny in the meantime just stared at Harry staring at her hand, her eyes wide, feeling perplexed and entranced.

When I'm gone like yesterday

When I'm high like heaven

When I'm strong like music

After an eternity, Harry placed his other hand gently on her cheek, lifting her chin so that she could meet his eyes.

They were both subconsciously moving closer together until their faces were nearly touching. Ginny leaned forward just a millimeter and her lips fused together with Harry, sending an intense current through both of their bodies. Harry felt like he was on fire; he felt alive.

Their kisses grew deeper and more emotion was poured into each other's souls with each one.

Connecting with Harry this way was so phenomenal to Ginny. His kisses, though very passionate, somehow had a peaceful innocence to them. The love was real; this was real and not just a dream.

Harry could feel their love radiating into the air so powerfully that it could have melted the fresh snow.

Time slowed down, and they didn't say another word to each other until they went back inside much, much later.

For sometimes the most valuable gifts cannot and do not need to be expressed in words.

Harry and Ginny filled the silence with love and filled it at a patiently slow pace, slow like honey.

'cuz I'm slow like honey, and

Heavy with mood

-------------------------The End----------------------------

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading that; I really enjoyed writing it. This was inspired and features Fiona Apple's song "Slow Like Honey" (go listen to it, it's great), and the fact that I have writer's block on my other story (Sometimes You Just Need a Slap in the Face--read that one too.)

Happy Holidays!

Much love,

India