A/N: "Then that Christmas, Christmas of her seventh year, something had changed. Ginny and Harry had spent many nights in front of the fire, talking about this and that. For the first time in what had felt like an eternity Harry's smiles started to reach his eyes." – the Journal, chapter 8.
Disclaimer: JK owns it. I am nothing but a humble reader.
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What if we were meant to be together?

What if you were meant to be the one?

I could hide a million years and try to believe

That any time the girl in mind will come and rescue me

The snow was falling steadily to the ground, and Harry Potter was watching it with a sinking heart. He was seventeen, and he was officially out of reasons for why he should be excited about his future. His entire life he had lived with a purpose, a reason for being, and now that the prophecy was fulfilled he felt like there was nothing left for him to do. The world seemed dull and boring, and everything he did he did in a daze. And now Christmas was approaching, and the happiness and enjoyment of it all seemed to mock him. Why should he rejoice? So he had helped defeat the most evil wizard of all times, but what good did that do when his entire reason for existing died alongside the casualties of the war?

There was something happening downstairs, but Harry kept watching the snow. Ginny should be home by now. He knew that she was expected, and for some reason that made her a lot happier than he wanted to admit to himself. He hadn't seen Ginny for almost six months, and to have some new people around would make everything easier. Of course Bill, Charlie, and the other Weasleys would be home, as well, but there was something special about having Ginny there. He shook his head. Who cared if Ginny was home or not? Why made her able to do what no one else could? What were the odds that she of all people could give him a reason for being?

'Cause you're the fire, you're the one

But you'll never see the sun

If you don't know, you're right next to the right one

And I could call it many names

But it's myself I need to blame

If you don't know, you're right next to the right one

"Harry are you all right?" Ginny was walking into the living room holding two cups of tea.

Harry looked up and nodded. "Sure. I'm fine."

He could hear her sigh, and he wished she could leave him alone. Instead of doing so, though, she sat down next to him on the floor and handed him one of the cups.

"Here, I made you some tea."

He took the cup, but didn't drink it. Instead he put his hands around it, letting the warmth of the cup seep into his cold fingers.

"Thank you," he said shortly, and she nodded and smiled carefully.

They didn't say much, just stared into the fire. Harry found himself looking at her again and again, and he reflected idly on how the light from the fire made her hair glow.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, but you know I'm here if you need to talk, right?" She said it quietly, while sipping her tea.

Harry nodded. "Thanks. I know."

In the end you've got a friend for lifetime

Truly there, to truly care for you

I know you cry a million tears so I want you to know

That a pretty face can take you places, you don't wanna go

"And in the end what happened was that Fred got the girl, while I was left looking like an idiot - again." George sighed dramatically, and the entire Weasley family laughed. Harry had listened to the story with interest. It wasn't that the story was particularly good, but it was happy, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity Harry felt that life might not be as dark and depressing as he had made it out to be. He looked up from his dinner to find that Ginny was watching him carefully. When their eyes met she smiled, and Harry smiled back. The look of happiness in her eyes made him remember that he had told her stuff last night that not too many people knew. He wondered if she had told anyone what he had said, but something in his heart made him pretty sure she hadn't. He looked at her again, and he was reminded of the way she had cried for him last night, and how she hadn't been afraid to show him that she was weak. No, he thought to himself, not weak - fragile. That was two completely different things. Despite himself he smiled again, and let his thoughts wander as he listened to the chatter around the table.

So in the end it all depends on whether you'll find

Warm embraces when I replace the one you had in mind...

"So how is Dean?" Harry asked her casually one night. They were sitting by the fire again, alone and talking about whatever came to mind.

"I don't know," she replied, and Harry arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"Really? I thought you two were joined at the hip."

Ginny snorted. "Dean and I haven't had any contact for about two months."

"No?" That came out a lot less caring than he had intended it to.

"No. He broke up with me over the summer, promising me we would be friends. But of course that never worked out, and then around two months ago we stopped all contact."

"I'm sorry," Harry said carefully, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"It's ok. He wasn't right for me anyway."

Harry looked thoughtful. "You're probably right. I always pictured him with Lavender."

Ginny laughed bitterly. "He left me for her."

He looked away. "Sorry. I didn't know."

"It's ok. I haven't really told anyone."

"I understand."

They kept staring into the fire, until Harry was so tired he was sure he could have fallen asleep standing.

"I think I need to go to bed," he said reluctantly, and Ginny nodded.

"Me, too. Tomorrow is Christmas, and in about," she looked at her watch, "three hours the twins will be running down the stairs to get to the presents before anyone else."

Harry smiled. "How old did you say they were?"

They both got to their feet, and together they walked up the stairs and stopped outside Ginny's room.

"Good night, Gin," Harry whispered, afraid to wake anyone up.

"Good night, Harry. Sleep tight."

He looked at her for about two seconds, then reached down and gave her a warm hug. She was very tense at first, then relaxed eventually. As they broke apart Harry felt happier then he had in a long time.

"Merry Christmas."

'Cause you're the fire, you're the one

But you'll never see the sun

If you don't know, you're right next to the right one

And I could call it many names

But it's myself I need to blame

If you don't know, you're right next to the right one

Christmas was over, and once again Harry was staring out onto the falling snow. His heart was a lot lighter, though, and the thoughts going through his head were far from depressing. With a smile he looked away from the window and picked up the letter lying on the desk. He unfolded it, and even though he almost knew it by heart he read it again.

Dear Harry,

I am now back at school, and I just wanted to write you to tell you that I am ok. I hope you are doing well, and that mum isn't driving you crazy.

I don't have much time, because dinner is in ten minutes, but I wanted to let you know that I have had a great Christmas, and a lot of that is because of you. I want to say thank you for every conversation we have had during these last couple of weeks, and also for the silences. Perhaps, in the end, it is the silences I will remember the most.

I once read that if you can be silent with a person for more than ten minutes, and still feel comfortable, then you can truly call that person your friend. Well, Harry, I guess it is inevitable: you are now my friend, and it is a friendship I appreciate very much. I hope you feel the same.

I must go to dinner, now, but I just had to tell you this first. I hope to see you this Easter, and I hope you know that I am always here if you need to talk.

Take care, Harry, and don't forget how to smile.

Your friend,

Ginny.

Harry folded the letter together and found an empty piece of parchment. Then he opened a bottle of ink, took out one of his quills and started to write.

Dear Ginny,

Thank you for the letter, and thank for you this Christmas. It helped me more than you can ever understand...