Author's notes: it's been forever, I know. Real life issues, my apologies. Unedited due to time restraints. Next update to come shortly.

Chapter Five:

Harry could not sleep.

He tossed and turned, closed his eyes and counted sheep. He even tried to count back in his head the former Ministry's of Magic's. He tried everything to no avail. Harry closed his eyes and tried to think of Ginny… but all that did was serve as a constant reminder that she was just down the hall and he was nowhere near as close to her as he wanted to be.

And he wanted to be close to her, he needed to be close to her, but he would not let himself. Knew he could not do that to her, could not put her in harms way. He cared about her too much, feared for her safety too much to be selfish and let himself act on those silly feelings he felt when he was with her.

So Harry continued to count sheep. Counted backwards from a thousand… twice.

Nothing worked. Absolutely nothing.

Turning onto his stomach, Harry punched his pillow a couple of times before resting his head on it. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. Tried to think of nothing but complete emptiness, blackness, but nothing. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, each one more terrifying than the last, each one depicting images of things he feared were yet to come.

It was like the boggart he saw Mrs. Weasley fight in his fifth year, only it was more terrifying and no matter what he tried it would not disappear.

In utter frustration brought on by lack of sleep and too many thoughts, Harry threw back his sheet, threw on a shirt that was laying nearby and angrily reached out for his glasses. He found them just where he had left them- on his bedside table, and pushed them onto his face rather forcefully.

A glass of water sounded soothing, and perhaps a quick fly around the grounds… something to help clear his mind. Make him feel more at ease. Harry made his way out of his stuffy room and down the hallway on his tip toes, making his best effort not to wake any of the other sleeping patrons that resided within the Burrow's walls.

It did not seem to matter however, everyone was peacefully sleeping, readying themselves for the events that would ensue tomorrow. Or later that day however they chose to look at it. Harry did not like either explanation, despite his happiness for Bill and Fleur, he was not looking forward to the wedding at all.

Out of habit as he made his way down the stairs, Harry cast a glance towards Ginny's room. Frowning at the closed door at the end of the empty hallway. An ache in his chest made itself known then, and he pushed it away immediately with everything he had in him. Forced memories old and new, flashes of red hair and brown eyes out of his mind reluctantly.

They used to give him comfort, those memories, now all they did was serve Harry another reminder of all he had lost.

Downstairs was dark and seemed abandoned almost and Harry did not mind it one bit. Silence and solitude had become his friend over the past months, and in the midst of so many Weasleys and constant chatter, he had often found he missed his new friend-- when it wasn't busy being his worst enemy that is. For with silence and solitude he was left with nothing but himself and his thoughts.

Two things that as of lately did not produce lovely outcomes.

As he entered what appeared to be an empty kitchen, Harry made his way over to the sink and grabbed a glass from a cupboard above. Proceeded to pour himself some water even though transfiguring it would have been the more logical and easier choice.

Sometimes simplicity was a good thing, Harry figured, and besides he was more than grateful for the distraction.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Harry whirled around at the new voice, reaching for his wand before silently cursing himself when he realized he had not grabbed it before coming down. It did not matter though, he turned to see familiar eyes and an even more familiar crooked smile staring back at him, and the tension that had reached its boiling point inside of him started to edge away.

He even smiled the slightest smile in return.

That was until he caught Ginny Weasley, even more beautiful than ever in the pale moonlight that shone in through the windows, wearing nothing but a white cotton nightgown that left little to the imagination and a smile he adored and missed all the same.

His heart rate picked up, the traitorous organ beating rapidly against his ribcage as he fought the sudden weakening in his knees.

Merlin, he missed her.

Catching himself before his thoughts could become even more depressing (like they often did when Harry thought about last term and their lunches by the lake) he leaned against the counter behind him, and took a long sip of his water. Wondered just why the crystal glass felt like it was about slip out of his usually nimble fingers.

"Yeah," he croaked out, his voice not even resembling his own. "You?"

Ginny nodded as she slid down off of the counter she had been perched upon, following his lead and leaning against it instead. "Didn't mean to scare you, Harry."

"You didn't," he lied almost immediately.

An uncomfortable silence- something he had never associated with her- pulled the two of them in and became stifling as it went on. He knew more than anything she must be feeling the same way- uncomfortable and on edge- because not only did one look in her direction tell him so, Harry just knew Ginny that well. Knew her favorite color, favorite sweater, favorite food. Knew almost all there was to know about Ginny Weasley, and he figured, somewhat distastefully, that was what angered him the most.

That he could know her so well, know what it was like to hold her hand and kiss her beautiful lips, and hold her so dear and not be able to experience those things again.

To be standing in the same room, like they had countless times since he had arrived at the Burrow, but still be miles and miles apart. An entire country, for that matter. That was what it felt like anyway.

"How did, er, it go with your Mum and Dad?"

It was a lame, stuttered attempt at conversation, Harry knew, but it was all he had.

The red head shrugged her shoulders. "Dad talked some sense into my mum. I'm going back."

He nodded, a relief washing over him at the sound of her words. No where might be safe anymore- not the Burrow, not Hogwarts, but the idea of Ginny being safe at Hogwarts made him feel better than he had in ages. He had expected it, the final outcome of what must have been an ongoing battle between mother and daughter, but it still made him feel loads better hearing it.

"That's good," he replied as brightly as he could manage, but it did not work very well. She smiled a soft, half smile and he grinned dimly back.

Ginny looked at him strangely for a few long seconds. Stared actually, as if she were trying to figure out the missing piece of a puzzle. Her gaze was strong and piercing, and Harry started to feel just a little bit intimidated as the seconds ticked on. So much so that he eventually looked away, flushing red profusely.

"What?"

Ginny seemed to snap out of her trance, startled but the edge in his tone. "Nothing."

"Obviously it's something. What is it?"

She pressed her lips together in a thin line, as if debating her next move- or words. Finally, almost timidly, she said, "I was just thinking about you," her face flushed even deeper than his a mere few minutes before, and she laughed nervously. "Us, I mean," her brown eyes met lively green ones to only look away a second later. "This is weird."

Weird didn't even begin to describe it, although it was not the first time that particular notion had passed through his own mind.

"I mean," Ginny rushed on, "you're here and I'm here, and all I want to do is kiss you and I can't. I want to talk to you like we used to talk and I can't," she paused, swallowing thickly as she looked anywhere but him. "I hate this."

She was saying everything he felt, and it just made the situation that much harder. Harry understood completely how she was feeling because he was feeling that way too. Alone, helpless, and afraid.

"I know," was all he managed to say in return. It was the truth but it did not do much to ease the feelings that were running rapidly through him.

Everything was in a complete disarray. On one had Harry wanted desperately to kiss her and on the other hand he knew he needed to leave. Or send her away before that even had the chance of happening. Not only was he pretty sure the Weasleys- save for Ron- had no idea bout them (which would create a very big problem if one of them just happened to find them mid snog in the middle of the kitchen) but kissing Ginny- something he desperately wanted to do- meant acknowledging that he needed her more than he needed to let on.

Kissing Ginny meant it would be that much harder to leave. Harder than he knew it already would be which he was pretty sure was going to be damn near impossible.

"Do you think he we can survive this, Harry?"

It was not a simple question by any means and Harry's mind reeled with all the possibilities it was asking. Could they survive the war? This indefinite separation while he goes off and hunts Voldermort and horcuxes?

He wanted to say yes, to all the above, but Harry knew that in the end it was all out of his hands. That he could (and would) do everything in his power to achieve the end he wanted, but ultimately he had no power of knowing what the future would bring.

"I sure hope so."

It was the truth. The absolute truth, and like a knife it sliced right through him as hope swarmed through him and he was reminded of all he had to lose.

With surprise Harry watched as Ginny pushed herself away from the counter she had been leaning up against and crossed the kitchen towards him. Putting himself immediately on guard, Harry took a cautious step back, only to realize he had no where to go. Sooner than he could think, Ginny had trapped him between herself in the counter that was the cutting into his back.

It was not a particularly bad place to be, but if his heart had any say- it was beating so furiously and rapidly that he could hardly breathe- he needed an immediate escape.

"What are you doing?" he rasped out, tracing her beautiful face as an honest and true smile crossed her features.

"Can I hug you? Is that allowed? Friends hug, don't they?" she was still smiling, but almost like a switch had been clicked off it had dimmed.

There was an edge in her tone, an amount of unleashed anger and faux happiness he recognized in his own from time to time.

"We are friends aren't we?"

"Of course we are," he rushed to explain, suddenly feeling rather silly and childish. A hug was just a hug wasn't it?

A resounding 'yes' echoed within his head with finality and surety. Of course that was until her arms wrapped around his neck, bringing the two of them closer than they had been in months. A hug was not just a hug, he knew then, especially not if it involved Ginny Weasley. He had been hugged many times-- by Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, but this was different. He had hugged Ginny countless times, but even then it was still different.

It was new but still reeked of a familiarity he craved. He could smell the ginger he will always associate with her, he could feel her soft skin against his own, her body pressed up against his own.

It was tantalizing and forbidding at the same time and as soon as it had started it was over. Lasted maybe a few seconds at most before the both of them pulled away as if they had been scorched by the contact.

His skin felt feverish and his head light as he stared into the depths of Ginny's brown eyes. It was like something was between them, pulling them closer for they kept moving closer and closer with ever passing second and both were too helpless to stop it.

"I miss you, Harry," Ginny said quietly, her voice a mere whisper, as her face inched closer and closer to his own.

Her words broke his heart and made him ache deep down into the pit of his stomach. He missed her too but refused to say it. Months ago he would have, the person he used to be would not have hesitated. But he was no longer that person.

Then, before he could even think twice, before he could even do anything to stop it, her lips were just a millimeter away from his own. So close, and his will to pull away was obliterated. Taken away as her beautiful and kissable lips found his own.

And Harry did the stupidest thing he ever could have done.

He kissed her back.

(TBC)