Ginny sat curled up in her favourite chair by the fire, feet clad in her mother's hand-knit socks, and wrapped in the thickest blanket she had managed to find.

She had meant to read another chapter or two of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, in preparation of their lesson the following day, but had quickly found that she was too exhausted to focus; and instead reverted to staring at the fire in the hearth, mesmerised by the energetic dance of the flickering flames.

It had been a dismal week. In their preparation for the upcoming Quidditch match of Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, Harry had insisted that their team trained every evening, no matter the weather; and today had been the worst practice they had had so far. The team's motivation had been low before they had even started, but as soon as they were up in the air it had fizzled out completely. The wind had been relentless; thrashing around their ears as they struggled to stay on their brooms, the icy raindrops like pinpricks against their skin. Harry had pushed them to go on for almost two hours until even he had given up, a grim look of determination on his face when he told them 'Alright, listen up. I booked the pitch for 6 am tomorrow, so I want to see you all bright and early in the morning, okay? Now go warm up and get some rest.'

The thing was, Ginny didn't blame Harry for his harshness at all. She understood why he was so determined to win the Quidditch cup this year. He, like everyone else, was just trying to cope. They were all just looking for something to do, something that would distract them from the ghosts of their past, - a new 'normal' so to say. And for Harry that meant throwing himself head first into his role as the Quidditch captain.

And that was all well and good, if only their team wasn't so horribly inconsistent. As it stood, there was no hope for them. Harry could drag them onto the pitch for practice every single day, but if the team's morale didn't improve soon, they would be absolutely flattened by Ravenclaw in the upcoming match.

"I'm going to bed."

Ginny's eyes snatched up to look at Harry, who had been lounging on the chair next to her. He looked as tired and exhausted as she felt, but his gaze was warm and familiar as he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Don't stay up too late, okay?"

Ginny nodded. "I'll just finish this chapter and then I'm off to bed too."

"Okay." Harry conceded, giving her shoulder another squeeze, before he let go and headed towards the boy's dormitories.

Ginny let out a deep sigh. It had taken her a while to accept that Harry wasn't the right person for her, but it wasn't like they hadn't tried. After the battle of Hogwarts they were both eager to pick up right where they had left off; but things had changed… they had changed. She guessed war just did that to people…and after weeks of struggling and many many arguments, they both admitted defeat and agreed to go back to being 'just' friends.

It had been difficult at first, especially since everything Harry did was covered by the media, but eventually the shock wore off and people lost their interest in their failed relationship, and soon things began to fall into place. She knew in her heart that they had made the right decision, and as sad as it was to lose a lover, she had gained an amazing friend in return.

Ginny smiled as she watched him disappear up the stairs, before she picked up her book and continued her reading. She hadn't got very far, however, when a faint knocking startled her and her eyes shot up to search for the source of the noise.

It was getting late, and the Gryffindor common room was empty and quiet, but outside a thunderous storm was raging and the rain was falling in thick sheets from the sky.

Shivering slightly she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and picked up her book, when the strange knocking noise happened again; this time distinctly coming from the stained-glass window across the room.

Brows furrowed, she picked up her wand, a nervous flutter in her stomach as she approached the window and looked outside.

Nothing.

All she could see was pitch black.

She was just about to turn around, wondering if she was going mad, when all of a sudden, a small owl appeared in front of the window. It was carrying a clumsily wrapped parcel, that seemed far to big for an owl its size, and was frantically flapping its wings, as it struggled against the wind.

Letting out a small gasp, Ginny opened the window to let the poor thing in, quickly taking a step aside as the bird swooped into the room and landed on the back of her favourite chair.

"Hey little guy." She said, slowly approaching the owl and pointing at the parcel on its leg. "Is this for me?"

The bird cooed softly and looked very pleased with itself, as it stuck out its leg to allow Ginny to take it off. Her eyes grew wide, as she began to open the little gift and was instantly hit with a deliciously sweet smell. Letting out an appreciative moan, she pulled the wax paper further apart to find a stack of perfectly shaped biscuits and a little note written in rather clumsy handwriting:

Hope Potter didn't torture you too much today.

Either way I figured you could use a little pick me up after being out in this weather all evening.

Missed you in the kitchens today,

Greg

Warmth spread in her chest as she read the words several times; a small smile tugging at her lips, as she picked one of the biscuits up and gave it a try. It was delicious; - like everything Greg made.

Excited, she picked up another one and began to nibble at it, as she let her mind wander, asking herself what must have been the hundredth time, how in Merlin's name she had got here. If anyone had told her a few months ago that one day she would get along with Gregory Goyle, she would have laughed in their face. But as it was, she couldn't deny that she had taken a liking to the quiet Slytherin. Despite all odds they had become friends and more often than not Ginny found herself wanting to spend more time with him. He was always the first person she wanted to tell, whenever something good had happened; and he was often the only person she would talk to when she felt anxious or sad.

Sucking in a shaky breath, she read the note again; a strange sensation spreading in her stomach as she reached the last line. 'Missed you in the kitchens today.'

Thanks to Harry's regimented Quidditch schedule, she hadn't been able to join Gregory in the kitchens for almost an entire week, and she really missed it. To read that Gregory felt the same way was making her feel all warm and tingly, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling like a complete idiot.

With a sudden stroke of inspiration, she picked up her bag, pulled out a quill and parchment, and began to write:

Greg,

Thank you so much for the biscuits! They were a real life-saver! Practice was miserable and I think my fingers are permanently frozen now! Harry is really pushing us this week, which is good, but it means that I might not be able to join you the evenings nay time soon.
I don't have any plans for Saturday afternoon though, and was wondering if you want to hang out then? Only if you're free, of course!

Let me know what you think, and thanks again for the yummy treats!
Miss you too.

Ginny

She read over the note again, a nervous flutter in her chest, before she rolled it into a tight scroll with shaking fingers. Despite their ever-growing friendship, she and Greg had never spent time with each other outside of the kitchens before. Asking him to meet her on Saturday felt like a huge leap, and she couldn't deny that she felt slightly nervous about it; - excited, but nervous nonetheless.

Sucking in a deep breath, she gathered all her courage, turned around and motioned the small owl to come over to her.

"I'm sorry little guy." She muttered, as the bird hopped along the back of her chair and stopped right in front of her face. "I'm afraid I'll have to send you back out in this weather."

She gave the little owl a gentle stroke and fed it a piece of biscuit, before tying the note to its leg and carrying it over to the window.

"Can you deliver this for me?" she asked, feeling slightly guilty as she opened the window. The little owl, however, seemed ready for the task and cooed happily as it jumped onto the windowsill and swooped out into the night.

Ginny's heart leapt as she watched the bird disappear into the dark, and for a moment she felt the urge to call it back and burn her letter in the fire, never to be mentioned again. But the bird was gone before she could react and with an anxious twist in her stomach, she realised that there was no going back now. She had just asked Gregory Goyle to spend a whole afternoon with her.