Author's Note: Clearly, any character, concept, et cetera hereafter portrayed is not owned by me, but rather J.K. Rowling to whom all gratitude should be given.

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Season of Love

by Walz

I

108,000 Minutes

It was four in the morning on Privet Drive when Harry Potter awoke suddenly. He cursed quietly--he had awoken for no reason in particular. Perhaps his subconscious had sensed something during his slumber. Or perhaps his body had simply decided he was not tired. Choosing the latter as his answer, Harry began to let his mind wander...

First he'd thought of Professor Dumbledore. Harry had witnessed his horrid death, simultaneous with Snape's terrifying betrayal.

"That bugger!" Harry thought furiously, clenching handfuls of blanket in his fists. Since that fated night, he'd begun to feel lost and unprotected. After all, was Albus Dumbledore not one of the most powerful wizards in the world? So much had happened so quickly: Dumbledore's untimely death, Snape and Malfoy's flight from the grounds, the funeral...

Harry lay back down and then considered the past few days. He'd had a hell of a time sleeping, worrying about the task at hand, and what he was going to do without Dumbledore. And then it dawned on him, something Nearly Headless Nick had once mentioned: Wizards and witches who are interred near their place of death are nearly certain to return as ghosts. Why hadn't Harry thought of this before? After all, he'd spent term after term sitting in History of Magic, literally staring through Professor Binns out of boredom. If Binns were a member of the faculty, why couldn't Albus Dumbledore return to Hogwarts as well? So there Harry had it: One problem solved. However, this did mean that he'd have to return to the school at some point or other to consult the man. No problem, he thought.

But this was two nights ago. Harry still rather enjoyed reassuring himself of Dumbledore's imminent presence to guide him, but with one issue down, his mind moved to another, more awkward, and perhaps a more important issue: That of Ginny Weasley.

"Dammit," Harry cursed softly. He'd allowed himself to do it again, to think about her. Well, why wouldn't he want to think about her? Her soft smile, her beautiful auburn hair...and her wonderous, caring, eyes. No! He couldn't let himself surrender to this feeling. He was protecting her. The noble thing to do, right? He couldn't be with her for the sake of the very world. But at times, Harry found, he thought the sake of his heart was more important than the world. He found that he was fighting with himself.

"You can't," Harry muttered to himself, "she's in danger. You're in danger. Voldemort could really hurt her, and you."

"But..." he found himself retaliating, "Dumbledore did mention that love was the greatest of all magic, a kind of magic Voldemort could never have..."

"Bloody hell." Harry had argued with himself like this for three nights now, and had always fallen asleep, fatigued, before a verdict had been reached. This morning, however, things were different. He'd begun to actually look back on their time together, how absolutely marvellous it'd been. As if his mind were a film reel being projected onto a screen directly in front of his eyes, Harry watched every smile. Every hug. Every hand-hold. Every kiss. It's as if this new, excruciatingly detailed evidence in the case of Crown v. Harry Potter's Heart had suddenly awoken the jury of his mind. Harry had felt quite strongly for Ginny during the year, and it was this feeling, alongside some noble rubbish that he now renounced as idiocy, which left them apart. No doubt she was as miserable as he. But she may detest him for what he'd done. At that thought, Harry'd begun to feel sick. He realised that no matter what he said, Ginny was going to follow him. That's one of the things he loved about her, her strong confidence. Wait. What was that word? Love? At first his mind didn't want to fully accept this verdict. Too cliché, no doubt! Why, everyone his age, Muggles and Wizards alike, with hormones raging, is claiming this. But no, he finally realised, after some careful consideration. He may very well be in love with Ginny Weasley.

"Maybe..." Harry spoke very quietly, "Maybe...our love could protect us...like how mum saved me..."

He realised what a longshot this was. Surely in nearly seventeen years Voldemort had begun to find a way around this protection. He pushed the dark arts from his mind. That's not what he truely cared about at the moment. He'd returned to the Dursley's, as Dumbledore asked, and in the morning would be leaving to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer. Just about two and a half months. Some 108,000 minutes. Harry glanced at the electric clock: 05:15.

Harry sighed. In about three hours, Ron, who'd retaken and passed his Apparition test, would appear, ready to take Harry away to the Burrow. To Ginny.

"God willing,"Harry thought, "it's still not too late."

Harry accepted that he needed Ginny. Not for some superficial magical protection, but for himself. For his heart. He'd wait out the summer to return to Hogwarts in hopes of contacting Dumbledore about his beckoning task. He needed to let Ginny know how he felt, and hoped she felt the same. He was going to spend the entire summer, he decided, doing his best to build an amazing relationship with Ginny Weasley. 108,000 minutes in love are more than well spent, he figured.

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Well then, that's that. The first chapter of my first fanfic. Hope you all enjoyed. Feel free to drop some reviews, they'd be much appreciated. I hope to be writing more soon.

-Walz