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Learn The Hard Way

The night bore her secret and was her guard.
Ginny looked left and right before she stepped out of the common room and made her way through the dark. She stopped to listen now and then if she could hear Snape prowling around, guarding the corridors. The last thing she needed was being spotted, locked away and put into detention for the entire week. He might like Snape, but Ginny certainly did not.

It was so much more dangerous with him wandering around in the corridors. But he wasn't here. She had nicked Harry's map and had a look at it before she went. He was waiting at their usual place, Snape and any other nocturnal fiends where elsewhere.
Not long, and she would see him again.

Her heart hastened its pace in anticipation, as if urging her own feet to go quicker—or, by the feeling in her stomach, to fly.
She had learned to love the school at night after she had learned to love him. It was all quiet, and only the white moonbeams kissed the walls and floors. Soon they would be caressing his nearly silvery hair- he looked so good in the moonlight, he seemed to be made for it – it loved him.

Whenever they had met, it had found another way of playing with his gentle, though hardened features, with his hair, transforming it into a silken part of it's own in it's playful ways. She could only too well understand it, her hands were longing to run through the same silvery hair, see the moonlight kiss his gentle face as she would kiss jealously it, dance over his skin only to be pursued by her jealous hands.

It had taken all her heart to conquer him.
Ginny had never believed it would indeed come true one day. He seemed so detached, so proud, and he was seldom alone. He mostly was in places she wasn't allowed to go or she didn't dare to go, since at first he would have never stood up for her. He was too proud.
It was forbidden, or, like her heart cried, there were things he considered more important even than her love. Things that for such a long time had been his life he was neither able nor willing to shut them out. His family would disown him. His Slytherin friends would shun him. It would take time for him to see that there were better things than them and not care for what they said anymore. In the beginning, even he himself would never have admitted it was love.

She wasn't even sure he would do now, she thought with a deep sigh.
If anyone was to find out what was behind all the pride and coldness, he would break and end their secret immediately, she knew him and knew it was true, so she kept her secret- it filled her heart with a warm glow. She had learned to think of their secret as a part of their relationship, like the nocturnal peace of the castle itself. But that, too, she had had to learn.

And to learn the hard way, too. Love was not all romance as she had first thought. It was so much more. So much more complicated, more dangerous – but at the end… she smiled. It was romance again. Only love could unite two people so different, could help them overcome all that had stood between them, the social difference, the age, the houses, the teachers, all that was here.

She had missed him, casting him glances over the shoulder or the heads of all the others when they briefly passed in the hall or in corridors, forbidden to speak or to do anything but exchanging very brief, longing glances when no one was looking.
They always were torn apart again so soon, by hordes of other pupils walking past and taking her with the flow, or by teachers talking to him. It was difficult.

Sometimes her heart had seemed to sink like lead at the mere thought – if anyone was to find out, it would be over in an instant – but that had changed. They still only could meet in the velvety darkness of the nights, but now he would stand up for her, and he was no longer afraid of admitting it. That was what she had wanted at first, that they could let the world know about their love, but now it had even become more delightful in secrecy. He was her secret.

She knew him like nobody would ever know him, she alone had seen his true character behind the pride, the bitterness. Apart from that, they both knew only too well how dangerous it could be if anyone indeed found out.
At first Ginny had believed the people she knew would come to accept their love, but now she knew better. He had taught her to look behind things, to see through attitudes of people. It had been painful, but the people in her house still hated him, and also hated him for what he was. He hated them as well, and all she could do was accept it quietly.

There were things she could not change, and the feud with the people from her house and the other houses would not be overcome through her alone. They wouldn't stop, either, so he had to defend himself. The thought came to her and it irked her as usual – Harry was worst. She had trusted him enough to tell him she had once loved him – but that had changed. No more dreams of the hero she had loved for being more than that. No more. Her love had hated her for having been in love with Harry. He was all that he was not, seemed to have all that he was not.
Now he wanted to prove himself whenever there was a possibility – he wanted to be better than Harry would have been as her boyfriend. Better than anyone. Smilingly, she thought about telling him that he was, after all, perfect.

But he would dismiss that as mere sentimentality. He didn't approve of sentimentality. She smiled. Of course he didn't. And yet he always insisted they would meet in the moonlight, insisted upon leaving little notes in classrooms for her after he had left – she always was delighted when she found them in the morning.

Several times they had nearly been discovered, and the first time still gave her an uneasy feeling in her stomach.
They had met not too far away from the Slytherin commons and Snape had nearly spotted them. He had saved her and told him he was wandering around alone, and Snape's esteem had been high enough to leave the matter. He had walked away with Snape, though, and Ginny had been left hiding in the dark, too afraid to move, feeling more alone than she had ever felt since the beginning of their relationship. Left there, alone, in the dark, she had thought that he'd never come back to her, that he thought it was too dangerous and too complicated. She had spent the remainder of the week in fear, peering over to him at mealtimes, anxious to be able to talk to him, but whenever they met in the corridors between lessons, he had ignored her, passed her by without a glance.

And then, there had been the rose on her bed. A rose and the first note in which he ever acknowledged he had feelings for her, telling her he was just being careful, telling her he missed her. Missed her ...

It had taken so long, so long in the beginning. It had been brief encounters, full of antipathy, not worth thinking of now. And yet, they seemed to run into each other more often then others did, and exchanging unfriendly words when passing each other had become a habit.
She had felt sick for such a long time before she knew it was her heart, aching. Without a doubt he had felt the same. And then, it had suddenly happened – it had started as a quarrel, and suddenly, her eyes had locked and she felt she was falling into those blue pits and he had leant forward and—
Ginny had rounded the last corner when warm hands touched her from behind, caressing her shoulder and her face, wandering down to her breasts. A soft mouth was pressed to her neck and she heard a whispered:

"Where have you been? You're late. I missed you so…" he started kissing her neck, his surprisingly soft lips tickling her skin. His hands wandered over body, finally turning her round as she did so until she was facing him.

Although she had grown a lot since their first kiss in fifth year, he still had to bend down a little to kiss her. The age difference was also a problem – but Ginny had always fallen for older boys – and older men. His hands ran through her long, red hair and she leant against him, feeling his heartbeat against hers, then standing on tiptoes to kiss him. With a gracious movement of his strong arms he lifted her up and they kissed again.

When she buried her face into his shoulder, she felt as if nothing could harm her now. Everything was all right in this very moment, even if they would be found – right now, she didn't care in the least.

"Oh Argus – I missed you so much!" she murmured into the fabric. She felt him chuckle and press her gently against his muscular body.

"Ginny, without you, the world wouldn't be what it is," Argus Filch said, and they made their way through the darkness.