Many thanks for patiently waiting for this chapter. :-) My thanks also go out to Alcarcalime and ReaderRavenclaw for all the help!

I Wished For You Once

Chapter Eight

"Butterbeer?"

"No, thanks," Ginny said quietly, forcing a grateful smile.

Beside her, in a Hogwarts Express compartment bound for London, Neville gave her a small smile, one that told Ginny that it was all right, he understood. He uncorked his own bottle with his teeth, spat the cork onto his hand, and drank deeply.

"Can I have that?"

Luna, who had been sitting across from Neville, had her arm extended towards him. Her palm was open, and her already big eyes seemed to bulge even more as she stared at Neville expectantly. Neville looked at her questioningly, then reluctantly handed her his bottle.

Luna giggled. "The cork!" she said.

"Oh!" Neville said, laughing slightly. Ginny noticed that Neville discreetly wiped the cork on his trousers before tossing it to Luna, who caught it almost indifferently.

Ginny watched Luna open the pocket of her knapsack and take out more Butterbeer corks, which were strung together onto a gold thread to make a necklace. Luna took Neville's cork and threaded it onto the necklace as well. Then she held it up, frowning.

"I need four more," she said in a mystified tone.

An amused chuckle escaped Harry, who was sitting beside Luna and directly across from Ginny. As Ginny glanced at him, Harry caught her eyes.

Ginny quickly averted her gaze and stared at the passing landscape without really noticing its quiet glory, as she had been doing for a couple of hours now. She kept her eyes outside even as she heard Neville speak again.

"You can always buy some in Hogsmeade when we go back to Hogwarts in January."

There was a pause. Then Luna said, "I think I'll go find the lunch trolley right now."

"The trolley doesn't sell Butterbeer," Neville said with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"Maybe they do now," Luna said airily.

Ginny heard the door to their compartment slide open, and she looked up again. Luna had stepped out, but as though on second thought, she turned back to Neville. "Don't you want to come out with me?"

Neville stared at her—then, shaking his head in what seemed like disbelief, stood up. "Okay," he said hoarsely.

Neville slid the door closed behind him. Ginny now couldn't help but steal a glance at Harry, who had a leg propped up on his seat and an arm hung limply on his knee. He was staring at her.

Ginny looked outside again, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Silly, Ginny scolded herself. You don't blush in front of Harry Potter anymore, remember?

She heard Harry sigh out loud. Here it comes, Ginny thought, bracing herself.

"I heard a couple of your friends talking about you," Harry began. "They were saying that…well…you'd been screaming in your sleep a few nights ago, and it…freaked them out."

It was Ginny's turn to sigh. She had expected this question from Harry for almost a week now. She had expected it from everyone who had the courage to ask, in fact.

And they did. Jane had asked; Ron and Hermione had, too. All Ginny had been able to tell them was that she'd had a terrible dream; of what, she hadn't had the guts to say. She surmised that Jane probably knew, but if she did, she never let Ginny know.

What Ginny had steeled herself for was the eventual, inevitable exchange with Harry. She knew—somehow, she knew—that he would ask her personally. And she also knew, somehow, that she would tell him, for no apparent reason beside the fact that...

She wanted him to know.

And yet, whenever she looked at him, she would remember her dream. She could only glance at him briefly nowadays, for if she lingered on his face for too long, she would see his hair smoothen into neat locks… she would find that his bright green eyes had turned gray… and she would have to look away, shuddering, disgusted at herself for thinking, even in her dreams, that Harry was anything like Tom Riddle.

Harry was still staring at her in expectation, still with his arm on a knee. Under normal circumstances, Ginny would have smiled at how cute and careless he looked.

"What was it about, Ginny?" Harry pressed on.

Ginny closed her eyes and spoke to the window. "It was a nightmare," she muttered.

"I know that," Harry said quietly.

Ginny paused—and then, "I dreamt of Tom Riddle."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Harry straighten up in shock. He put his foot back on the floor and leaned closer to her.

"What happened?" Harry asked, his voice soft yet firm.

How can I tell him, dammit? Ginny swore inwardly. Thinking quickly, she plunged on, "It was just like my usual dreams of him. Tom Riddle, coming to me, threatening me, then me falling into…" She let her voice trail off.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Harry whispered.

Ginny nodded slowly.

Ginny had the impression that Harry was still staring at her in shock. Then, after a long minute, he spoke again. "That's what you go through every night?"

Ginny suddenly turned her eyes towards him. He was staring at her in shock, yes, but there was something else. In his eyes, behind his glasses, was a hint of something that she had seen before…. Yes, it was an expression she had seen last Saturday, in the Quidditch pitch. It was a furious, repulsed look, not directed at her, but at someone who had hurt her. Something warm suddenly rose to her chest; she could suddenly look straight at him.

"Well, not every night," Ginny said, chuckling grimly. "It started about a month ago or so… and since then, I dreamed of him three times. Of course I see the same thing whenever a Dementor comes near," she added, shrugging, as though the gesture would help keep her from dwelling too much on her pains.

"I…didn't know that," Harry replied quietly.

"It's not something I just tell anyone. It's just not… okay to do that." Ginny forced a smile. "But hey, look, I'm telling you everything."

Harry smiled back; by the look of it, his own smile seemed to be forced as well. Then he frowned slightly. "Why are you…telling me this?"

Ginny shrugged. "I dunno…to get it off my chest, maybe? And…," she added hesitantly, "you probably understand it better than anyone."

"Oh." Harry still had the slight frown creasing his forehead. "So… if you just tell someone you feel a bit better about it afterwards?"

It was only then when Ginny realized that Harry was trying to tell her something. "Someone who understands, I guess," she told him, all the while searching his eyes.

Harry merely looked at her, then nodded and looked outside.

Now Ginny found herself to be the one staring. She studied the side of Harry's face, the creases on his forehead, the faraway, almost sad look in his eyes. It seemed to her that Harry wanted to say something as important as what she had just revealed—probably even more important—but he was, like she had been just a while ago, debating how to tell her.

Her thoughts were sent flying away as the door to their compartment slid open. Luna, Neville, Ron, and Hermione all scrambled inside.

"I told you, no one sells Butterbeer here, Luna," Ron said, slumping beside Ginny.

Luna sighed. "Yes, Ronald, I'm sorry," she said coldly.

"Well, maybe you can use other corks," Neville said.

"The key to successful necklace-making," Luna told Neville pointedly, as if she were explaining the fundamental laws of the universe, "is the uniformity of each cork so as to achieve order."

"If you say so," Ron said, obviously only managing to stop himself from laughing out loud at the last minute.

A smile tugged at Ginny's lips. She saw that Harry was smiling at everyone, too—but a closer look at him told her that he had on a forced smile, and he was still holding something back.

And she gathered that he, too, wanted them to know.

Ginny loved the food at Hogwarts, but there was something about home-cooked meals that made her long for them every now and then. Her mum had heartily served roasted chicken, steamed vegetables, potatoes and treacle pudding—what essentially constituted a simple dinner at the Burrow, really—but it was probably the best meal she'd had in a while.

"Night, Dad," Ginny now said as Mr. Weasley ascended their rickety stairs. He looked tired, Ginny saw; he had also arrived late tonight. Ginny had a good idea why.

"Good night, kids," her father said with a smile, brushing his balding red hair with a hand. "Go to sleep early, okay? You have to be in Diagon Alley by ten."

"Sure, Dad. Night," said Ron distractedly. He, Harry and Hermione were adding baubles to the Christmas tree that was standing on the corner. The pine tree was too huge for their tiny living room; it brushed the ceiling overhead and took up a lot of floor space.

"Good night, Mr. Weasley," Hermione and Harry said in unison.

As her father disappeared, Ginny stood up and headed to their kitchen. Her mother was piling plates in the sink.

"Scourgify!" Mrs. Weasley said, pointing her wand at the dirty dishes. They immediately became sparkling clean.

"Need help?" Ginny asked.

"No, thank you dear," Mrs. Weasley replied without looking from the dishes. She waved her wand once, and as though following its movement, the dishes flew towards the open shelves above Ginny's head.

Ginny leaned against the wall next to her mum. "So…you're not going to tell me what happened just some weeks ago?"

This time, her mother looked at her with an expression of tender weariness she had seen many times before. "You never give up, do you?"

Ginny shrugged. "I'm just worried," she said.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her, then sighed. "There are some things that are better kept as secrets, Ginny."

"Yeah, but what if something happens to you and Dad without us knowing?" Ginny asked, resisting the urge to raise her voice.

"Ginny," her mother said, her voice firm and stern, "try to understand. Everything has a time of its own. When this is over," she said with a slight toss of her head, and Ginny knew exactly what her mother was referring to, "you'll know and understand."

Ginny continued to look at her mother doubtfully.

"There are some things you'd rather not tell me, after all, aren't there?"

Ginny's eyes widened; then, seeing that her mother was suddenly grinning teasingly, her cheeks flared.

"Harry seems different," her mother continued as she continued cleaning the kitchen. "He looks changed."

"It's not about Harry, Mum," Ginny said exasperatedly.

"Hmm? Then what is it?"

Ginny didn't say anything.

Mrs. Weasley smiled her motherly smile at Ginny. "You'll tell me in due time, of course?"

Ginny sighed in defeat. "Of course, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley's smile widened, but Ginny saw her keep a curious gaze on her even as she left the kitchen.

Ginny was the last to go to bed that night. As she climbed the stairs to her room, where Hermione was already sleeping, she paused on the third landing and looked up. There was a faint sound of clanking pipes—the ghoul in the attic, she thought. Ron's room, which was right underneath the attic, was almost directly above hers. Harry would be there. She was almost certain he was staring at the ceiling, listening with fascination to the ghoul.

Everything has a time of its own.

Still, Ginny wondered what it was that Harry had wanted to say in the Hogwarts Express today. She cocked her head, thinking, then slowly smiled. Everything has a time of its own. What if her mum was hinting to a secret of Harry's that had something to do with her?

Chuckling to herself, Ginny shook her head. Now that was silly. She started moving again, yawning widely. But just as she was about to enter her room, she heard the sound of footsteps coming from above, sounding progressively louder than the noise of the clanking pipes.

Ginny froze. Even before Harry came into view, she knew it was him. Did she really know him that well, to know the sound of his own footfalls? Or had she somehow brought him there just by thinking about him?

For some reason, Harry also seemed to have sensed Ginny's presence. He descended the last few steps slowly. A flickering overhead lamp illuminated his tired features and tousled hair.

"Can't sleep?" Ginny asked awkwardly.

"Well…" He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. "…Not really."

Ginny cocked her head. "What's up?"

Harry took a step closer. He looked slightly out of breath and completely embarrassed with what he was about to say.

"I just…wanted to check if you were…you know. Sleeping soundly."

Ginny blinked. Twice. She stared at Harry in utter surprise.

"Well…I know what it's like to have nightmares and…" Harry ended the sentence with an embarrassed shrug.

Overwhelmed, Ginny continued to gaze at him as she smiled with her mouth slightly open. "Harry," she began—but that was all she could manage.

Harry gawkily ran a hand though his hair. "So…"

Ginny bit her lip, still smiling, still thrown off by this simple gesture of attention. She gazed at him in wonder. How could she ever think that this person, standing right next to her just to wish her a sound sleep, could be anything like Tom Riddle? This was Harry, and he just wanted to check if she was sleeping soundly.

Ginny's heart surged with a tumult of emotions, all the while silently dictating that no matter how hard she'd try, she would never be able to put what she was feeling right then into any intelligible word. And that was why she stood on tiptoe, put a hand on his cheek, and kissed him softly on the lips.

Ginny felt Harry's jaw tense. Then, as she closed her eyes, she felt both of Harry's hands on her hair. He kissed her back, gently and carefully, and it was like no other kiss had ever felt, like kisses in her childhood dreams that had only come to life that night.

She was the first to pull away. She looked up at him and saw his eyes open slowly. In the flickering light, he gazed at her, playing with a lock of her hair on one of his hands, stunned, searching, as though he had uncovered a treasure that he didn't know had been there all along.

"Ginny?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yes?"

With the same probing look, he slowly asked, "If your dad sees us…d'you think I'd have to stay out in the snow tonight?"

Ginny broke into a grin. Eyes shining, heart swelling, she looked at him impishly. "I don't know," she said softly. "You'll have to find out for yourself, I guess."

Harry smiled back. And kissed her again.