Some of the major ways we can experience a greater sense of joy and well-being in our lives: becoming conscious, daily relaxation, enjoyable exercise, "pointless" recreational activities, tapping into our dreams, guiltless gooffing off, experiencing pleasure in little things, public and private displays of affection, greater laughter and additional sources of merriment.

-funny little excerpt I received in my Biology course on endorphins.

Disclaimer: Do I really need one? This is after all.

Chapter 1: Surprises Come Abound
She hadn't looked so happy since the previous year. This was a different happiness, though, not the giddy, childish contentment he had remembered seeing in her; she looked luminous, as though a light had burst inside of her.

It seemed that everyone had matured, even the small remainder of the Slytherin students. No one walked through the corridors alone; all were in groups or pairs as their eyes darted back and forth into every dark corner. She was no different, except for that lovely characteristically cheerful air she always had about her, even when she had almost died that very summer.

Yes, he remembered. It had been all over the news. Flashing headlines in The Daily Prophet had told of how the residence of the Weasleys had been attacked maliciously the night before the new year at Hogwarts was to begin. Ironically, The Daily Prophet had finally decided to report the truth.

The papers had described how Aurors had arrived to find the Dark Mark looming ominously over the Burrow, which was aflame. They had all thought the worst; the pretty young Weasley girl and her kind mother were presumed dead. Arthur Weasley had Apparated into the front yard of his flaming home; he looked stunned for a moment, but soon dropped to his knees and let out an anguished cry.

And then the unbelievable happened.

The mother and daughter stumbled out of the house unscathed. No one could believe it. Surely, it was impossible. Molly Weasley, although shaken, was perfectly untouched, but Ginny immediately collapsed, eliciting a terrified shriek from her mother. Ginny, her hair flaming red and her face ashen, seemed to be dead, and then, to everyone's surprise, her eyes fluttered open.

During the weeks after she had looked as though she were recovering from a plague. When anyone had tried to question Ginny, she had claimed she did not know what had happened. Molly Weasley frankly said that she also could remember nothing. Neither could (or would) say what had happened. Their survival became a marvel that no one seemed to be able to explain.

The only thing that had appeared to distress Ginny was the loss of their beloved home. She had brushed off any questions, and soon people had lost interest as more and more attacks surfaced.

She had returned to Hogwarts for her sixth year two weeks ago, almost unchanged. She was a tad paler, and her hair seemed to be a brighter shade of golden red than before. No one could mistake Ginny Weasley with her fiery hair always flowing freely behind her and a large weathered book under her arm. Her intense enthusiasm for Quidditch seemed to have dwindled a bit, as she could almost always be found in the library, scouring spellbooks and recipes for rare potions. They all called her the new Hermione Granger. Other than these surprising new attributes, it was as though nothing had changed.

But today, he noticed, something was different. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile was luminous. Her presence filled the entire Great Hall. She looked his way a moment and he quickly drew his eyes down to his Transfiguration textbook and leaned against the table. He didn't want to be caught staring.

He could hear her footsteps lightly tapping the limestone tiles. Louder. Louder.

"Hullo Dean," she was smiling warmly down at him with something strange hanging from her ears… scarves? Or socks?

"Ginny! How're you? How'd you're OWLs go?" He said this all too quickly as his heart fell a little; she was so… friendly. His mind suddenly flooded with memories of snogging in the far corners of the castle and intense snowball fights in Hogsmeade that somehow always ended up with him on top of her. Friendly wasn't what he wanted. Friendly wasn't what had left him in such high spirits practically his whole sixth year. He stood up now, not really knowing what he intended to do.

"Fantastic. Well, compared to three of my brothers, anyway. I managed to pass everything except Divination, even History of Magic. Can you believe it? Mum and Dad are proud."

"Wonderful. That's more than I got." He tried to search for the right thing to say. "D'you need anything?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow that Asiatic Anti-Venoms potions book you'd checked out from the library. Madame Pince told me you had it."

"Oh, right. The one I kind of…lost. Er, I'll look for it as best I can, Ginny." He could feel color rising to his cheeks. Why in all of Hogwarts had he lost the one book that she wanted? "I think it's under my bed…underneath my stack of clothes…which is…er… I'll find it. Somehow" And he would try his best to; for now, all he wanted was to be out of the Great Hall. He couldn't stand to be near her a moment longer.

"Thanks, Dean. Really." She patted his arm lightly. His brain momentarily froze. What did he want to do? Kiss her? Touch her hair? No, he wouldn't be the one to do that anymore. But his arm reached up a bit and then forcefully flew back down… right into a bowl of rice pudding.

She couldn't suppress her laughter. At first his mind raged, but then he chuckled without embarrassment. And so their laughter rang clearly through the hall. He felt free. He looked down at her and grinned at her lively smile. This was it. He didn't have to look away anymore. He no longer felt the need to be emotionally bound to Ginny Weasley. He knew it would still be quite a while before he could wish her to be just a friend, but this was refreshing. He no longer felt that uneasy pull of his nerves when she was near.

Well, this is good, he thought to himself, relieved. We're back to being friends again. This is the way it should be. Thank God.

Ginny was still laughing merrily, her hair dancing, and he couldn't help but stare. And as he glanced for a moment past her hair, he spotted someone out of place at the massive doors of the Great Hall that stood ajar. Every jumbled emotion inside his head settled down and returned to its normal place.

Dean had known he would show up someday without warning. And now he had.

AN: I just revived this chapter after some much needed beta-ing by Mortalus. I have these horrible writing habits that she's picked up. Hope it is a LOT better.

I hope you liked it. I liked writing it. Review please:-D