A Midsummer's Eve

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I profit from this writing. Please support the original creator. Comments are appreciated.

Harry Potter slipped out of the Burrow trying his best to escape unnoticed. It wasn't that he was unhappy to be staying with the Weasley's, but it was getting too hectic inside for him at the moment. He truly loved life at the Weasley's but at times like this, he could understand exactly why Fleur often felt overwhelmed while she was staying at the Burrow this summer.

The fiasco of an evening had started with Fred and George – as part of their day off – deciding that today was the day to finally get Hermione and Ron to admit their feelings for each other. Harry supported this goal wholeheartedly. He had even initially supported Fred and George's plan, however, he was now convinced that locking the two in Ron's room and refusing to let them out would do any good. Admittedly, he hadn't been surprised when all it had done was set off one of Ron and Hermione's infamous rows. His dear friends were neck-deep in denial, and it would take more than a bit of alone time for them to untangle their mess of feelings and denials.

Their row had in turn set off the ghoul in the attic. To show his displeasure at interrupting his rest, the ghoul had begun banging pipes, knocking over items, and generally making a racket. Harry was certain that his rowing friends hadn't even noticed given the heat of their seemingly pointless row. Who argues about differences in chess rules? Seriously.

On the other hand, he was seriously impressed with whatever magic Fred and George had worked to prevent Mrs. Weasley from noticing the explosion of noise upstairs. He wondered how he could persuade them to clue him in on how they did it. It would be a useful tool to have when he was trying to fulfill his destiny against Voldemort or wanted just some peace and quiet apparently.

But the bartering would have to wait. As soon as the twins had sequestered Ron and Hermione, they had retreated to their room to take stock of what they had left behind when they had moved into the flat above their shop. Mrs. Weasley had expressed in no uncertain terms that she didn't want any more incidents like what had happened to Hermione with the punching telescope. Since Harry was staying in their room this summer, this left him temporarily out of his usual space.

Harry had then sought out sanctuary in the den and the kitchen only to find them dominated by wedding planning. This would normally not be a problem as the planning had was going quite smoothly and without much disagreement much to the surprise of many a Weasley. So, Harry was not prepared when he walked in on a rapidly escalating argument about the guest list. He was surprised to see Fleur trying to mediate between Bill and Mrs. Weasley. He quietly wished Fleur luck. She would need it. Harry was thankful that the trio was too absorbed in their disagreement to notice him as he made his way for the door.

Stepping outside, Harry breathed in the cool August evening air and let loose a sigh of relief. The night was still and calm. Out in the yard, he could see light creeping out from the shed showing that Mr. Weasley was fiddling away with his muggle devices.

On any other night, Harry might have joined him to help out with his muggle knowledge. He quite enjoyed spending time with Mr. Weasley and trying to repair the jumbled collection of muggle items that struck Mr. Weasley's curiosity. Tonight, however, he was looking for something different. Something relaxing. Harry continued onward towards the orchard thinking he might do some night flying if there was enough light.

As he approached the orchard, it became abundantly clear that he and Mr. Weasley weren't the only ones to have sought refuge from the chaotic house. A lone rider bathed in moonlight flew gracefully and aggressively through the clearing. Her long plait streamed behind her as she spiraled and flipped through the air attesting to the great speed at which she flew.

The rider could only be Ginny. After watching her fly during the past year, Harry was convinced that she was born to fly. He had never seen anyone so natural in the air – a description that others tended reserved for him. And while she could perhaps use some position-specific training, he knew without her saying so that flying brought her untold joy. A feeling that he understood completely.

Her flight was mesmerizing. Harry could not tear his eyes off of her as she executed a series of complex aerial acrobatics. As he leaned against a tree at the edge of the orchard, Harry felt butterflies fill his stomach and his heartbeat quicken. He knew that he and Ginny had grown closer this summer and that her company was something he was beginning to crave. Surely this was the elder-brotherly feelings that he had heard some of the other Weasley's mention, right?

Somehow, that didn't seem right to Harry. Some of his thoughts did not feel particularly brotherly at all. Most of all his curiosity about finding out if her pale lips were as soft as they looked. He certainly didn't feel this way about Hermione, who was the closest he had to a sister. And his feelings had little resemblance to those he had had for Cho. Ginny had a way of putting him at ease where Cho had left him feeling uncertain and tactless.

Ginny unknowingly resisted any attempts to slot her into the sister category. Perhaps it was because she already had enough brothers as is. Or the vast difference in his feelings towards Ginny in comparison to Hermione. Perhaps their shared history with Tom Riddle placed her in a category uniquely her own as someone who could relate to Harry's personal struggles against the megalomaniac known as Lord Voldemort. She had already shown herself to be able to reach him when no one else could just as he could comfort her when she seemed inconsolable.

Shaking himself from contemplating his relationship with Ginny and his general introspection, Harry scanned the skies for Ginny. She was gone. Where could she have gone so quickly? True, it was getting dark but not so dark that he could have lost her.

"Looking for me, Harry? I'm flattered," Ginny teased casually causing Harry to jump. When had she gotten behind him? When Harry turned to face her, she appeared to be fighting a mischievous grin.

Harry felt his cheeks burn and was glad for the shadow of the night that would prevent Ginny from noticing. Even still, he ran his hand through his hair awkwardly, and replied, "Trying to escape the house mainly. Not that your flying wasn't a sight to see."

Ginny smirked – appearing self-satisfied which, Harry thought, was a surprisingly attractive look for her. Her voice became laced with good humor as she asked, "Fred and George's plan backfired immediately, didn't it?"

Harry sighed and nodded, "I don't know what it will take for them to realize they fancy each other, but their rowing is going to drive me mad. Do you know anyone else that can argue about quite literally anything?"

"We can't have that. People think you're mad as is," Ginny snorted. "I take it the wedding planning's stirred up its own row as well?"

Harry gave Ginny a playful glare over her first remark. For reasons unconsciously left unknown to Harry, he quite liked Ginny's teasing and her joking about the ludicrous stories and rumors about him. She seemed unique in her ability to make such things feel trivial and unimportant as if they had no more importance than shampoo to Severus Snape.

Harry replied, "Your mum and Bill are fighting over the guest list. Fleur was trying to meditate when I snuck through."

Ginny blinked in surprise, "Good for Fleur. There aren't many brave enough to get into the middle of a Weasley family row."

"I thought you didn't approve?" Harry noted, curious about Ginny's clear and seemingly uncharacteristic change of heart where Fleur was concerned.

"I just wish she wouldn't treat me like I was three," Ginny sighed, rubbing her arm in embarrassment. "Just between us, she makes Hermione and me a bit insecure, especially with the effect she has on Ron. It's not right but being petty makes it a bit easier."

Harry was surprised to receive the confession. He was at a loss to figure out what Ginny had to be insecure about. She was hilarious, clever, and – dare he think it – exceedingly beautiful in her own right. He replied consolingly, "If it helps, you can always be petty with me. I won't tell a soul."

Ginny seemed comforted by Harry's lack of judgment. Harry saw a thought occur to her and she asked, "I just realized something. How is it that you don't seem to be affected by her veela charm? Even I felt it on the day you first arrived."

Harry was taken aback. Now that he thought about it, he could not remember being affected by veela beyond the first encounter at the Quidditch World Cup. He replied, "I dunno. Maybe it's like throwing off the imperious curse where you need a strong will. Fleur's not really my type either, so that might help. But forget about that, are you confessing to something, Ginny?"

"Oh, sod off, Potter," Ginny replied, good-naturedly sticking her tongue out at him. "I'm making no such confession and you know it. Even if I were, Fleur wouldn't be my choice. I'd want someone a bit more butch I think."

Harry smiled and put his arms up aiming for a part amused part apologetic expression. Ginny softened which told him he was at least partially successful. Harry replied, looking away, "In all seriousness, I don't know why I'm not affected. Maybe it's because of my experience with the imperious curse. That's the only thing I can think of that might explain it."

Harry started as Ginny gently touched his shoulder. She gave him a small reassuring smile, "Whatever it is, I'm glad that you're able to act normally around Fleur. Ron has been driving Hermione and me batty."

"I'll see if there's anything I can do to get him to pull himself together," Harry sighed, "It's been getting on my nerves too."

"Thanks, Harry. I appreciate it. Should we head in?" Ginny asked, looking disappointed if Harry was any decerning judge.

Harry shook his head, "I'd rather not go back in just yet. I doubt the rows have run their courses. How about we stay out a little longer?"

"You're probably right," Ginny sighed. Then she brightened, "I know what we can do! Do you want to do some stargazing? It's a perfect night for it."

Harry readily agreed. While astronomy was not his favorite class, stargazing sounded like the exact sort of relaxing thing he was looking for. And he didn't think he would ever complain about spending more time with Ginny. Ginny parted for the broom shed to store her broom and grab a blanket for them to lay on.

As Harry waited, he noticed that it really was a perfect night for stargazing. There was not a cloud in the sky and the crescent moon twinkled merrily above. The night was uncommonly brisk for midsummer which supplied ample conditions for the stars to shine through. The Burrow's location away from the lights of the city also helped immensely. It wasn't like his aunt and uncle's where the light pollution shielded the stars from view.

When Ginny returned with a blanket under her arm, Harry and Ginny made their way towards the center of the orchard. Ginny spread out the blanket and they settled on the ground side by side.

For several minutes they laid in comfortable silence gazing at the twinkling stars above them taking in the peace of the August night. Then they began to talk. Sporadically at first about the night sky and the summer constellations they rarely saw in astronomy classes and then onward towards increasingly personal topics.

They spoke of Gryffindor's Quidditch prospects and how Harry planned to train the team – Ginny supplying valuable insights and suggestions throughout. They spoke softly about Harry's coming private lessons with Dumbledore and Ginny's coming OWL year. They spoke too of Neville and Luna and their hopes to spend more time with them this year and with each other.

As the chill of the summer night began to sink into them, Harry and Ginny unconsciously moved closer together until Ginny rested her head on Harry's shoulder. Both were surprised by the contact but neither moved nor commented as if by refusing to draw attention to it they could avoid addressing the fluttering of their hearts or the pleasant tingle born of their touch.

After quietly sharing their favorite memories of Sirius and their worries about Tonks, talk turned to stifled yawns and peaceful silence. Without meaning to, Harry and Ginny fell into a comfortable slumber side by side under the twinkling stars.

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"Ginny. Harry. It's time to wake up."

Mr. Weasley's quiet voice pulled Harry from his slumber. As he woke, he felt a warm comfortable weight on his shoulder, down his side, and across his waist. He also realized that his hands were buried in something soft and silky. Opening his eyes, he felt his heart stop beating for a moment as understanding dawned upon him. Sometime during their nap, Ginny had rolled over, leaned into him, and draped her leg across his waist while he had pulled her into an embrace.

Harry was both thrilled and horrified. Thrilled because of how right the embrace felt. It felt as if some newly born great beast inside him was purring with delight and contentment. Horrified that Mr. Weasley had found them like this and of Ginny's possible reaction to their positioning.

"It's all right, son," Harry's muddled frantic thoughts were cut off by Mr. Weasley's tired but kind voice, "Ginny's always been a cuddler. She asked me to get you both when I was heading in. Could you wake her up? She's always been a heavy sleeper."

Harry fought down a blush and nodded – relieved that Mr. Weasley didn't think any less of him or Ginny for finding them as they were. Harry tried to shift slightly but Ginny just held him tighter. He tried shaking her shoulder which resulted in nothing but her burying her head more securely into the hollow for his neck. Harry swore he heard Mr. Weasley chuckle as he struggled to find a way to wake her.

As she shifted, one of her pale ears appeared from within her mass of fiery tresses giving Harry an idea. Shifting his head close to it, he murmured in his most gentle voice, "Gin, it's time to wake up."

Though she did not stir, she asked sleepily, "Harry?"

"Yes, Gin. Your dad says it's time to go in," as Harry replied, he noticed that Mr. Weasley had retreated to the edge of the orchard to give them some privacy.

At his words, he felt Ginny stiffen and knew that she must have just realized the extent and intimacy of their embrace. He felt her face become hot against his neck and felt blood rush to his own face as well. They felt the intimacy blossom between them now that they were both fully awake and conscious of the all-encompassing nature of their embrace.

For several long seconds, neither moved – both were internally panicking at what the other's reaction was going to be and marveling at their growing feelings for each other. Both tried to dismiss it as familial but neither could bring themselves to believe it. The embrace was too entangled with feelings of desire and attraction to be anything other than romantic and – unacknowledged but felt by both = slightly sexual.

They heard Mr. Weasley cough lightly in the distance despite him having his back to them. That seemed to cause the spell to finally break. Ginny extracted herself from Harry and stood gracefully. When they parted contact, Harry was surprised at the sharp feeling of loss that he felt. Never before had he felt so strongly towards someone else's touch – in a positive way at least, he added bitterly.

Looking to chase that feeling once more and erase his momentary bitterness, he took Ginny's proffered hand to help him to his feet. Even that brief touch set Harry at ease more than he expected. He wondered if he could find innocent ways to increase how often they touched if it was doing so much for him already. Her hand felt so right in his that he could not fathom why he had never sought to hold her hand before.

Without addressing the nap or their embrace, Harry and Ginny quickly folded the blanket they had used and joined Mr. Weasley in making their way back towards the Burrow. As they walked, Harry and Ginny shared shy secret smiles. While Harry was not sure what would come of this night, if anything, he knew he had just had one of the best nights of his life and Ginny had everything to do with it.