Silk
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a large stack of bills. This story is set pre-HBP. Forgive me, this is my first HP story, and I'm not a huge fan with knowledge of all the little details.
Note- updated on 9/20/11 to fix a glaring typo that no one caught! I'm not a huge fan of this story, but others are. If you're one of the few, I kept it for you. And I didn't mean for that to rhyme.
The whisper of silk falling from her shoulders.
The rustle of the covers as she climbed into bed.
What he would give to share the bed with her! If only he wasn't sharing a room with her brother.
It was a fact. Ginny Weasley was slowly but surely killing him. Voldemort wouldn't have to worry about facing Harry Potter, because by the time they met- he would be nothing but a pile of ashes.
He could see the headline now:
"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was burned to death when he spontaneously combusted while staying with the Weasley family. Cause of death is still unknown, but foul play is being investigated by the aurors. Minister Fudge assures us that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is not involved because he was never resurrected. Mr. Potter shall be sorely missed."
Harry grinned in the darkness as he listened to Ron's snores.
It's a good thing they would be back on the train to Hogwarts tomorrow. He didn't know if he could have survived much longer.
