A/N: just a one-shot between Ginny and Harry.quite sad but sweet. hope you like it. please please please review!

It was Christmas night, almost ten o'clock when Ginny walked into the living room. Harry was in there. Almost turning around, she decided not to. He was the one making a big deal out of this. Not her. If he didn't want to see her, then he had to be the one to go. Sticking her chin out stubbornly, she strode over to the fireplace and began to warm her hands. Neither spoke. However, when she turned to warm the back of her legs, Harry was standing right behind her.

She jumped in surprise and almost fell into the fire. Harry grabbed her elbow to steady her.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said quietly.

She shook her head. "S'ok."

Harry looked up, at the ceiling above her head. Mistletoe hung, tied with red ribbon. Ginny looked up as well and smiled: she had put that there yesterday then forced to witness Bill and Fleur, Hermione and Ron, Remus and Tonks, and (worst of all) her mum and dad, all have a good snog under it. Maybe now it was her turn. Her heart began to beat quickly and her breath shortened. But as Harry moved even closer, she took a step back, again almost stepping into the fire. Harry turned red and scowled. Annoyance was beginning to fizz under her skin. Since when did Harry decide when they were going out? It didn't seem fair, that he could start and stop their relationship whenever it was convenient for him.

Harry stepped backwards and sunk his hands into his pockets. He was looking at her questioningly. He felt extremely stupid. She didn't want to kiss him. Did that mean she no longer loved him. Had he ruined his chance? Was she actually really angry with him?

"You can't have it both ways. I don't want just a bit of you, Harry. I want all of you, all the time. Not when you decide."

"But Ginny, I can't."

"Then you can't just kiss me whenever you feel like it. I want to be with you Harry. Those looks you give me, each time you touch me, I die inside because I know I can't have you but I don't understand why."

Harry gave a weak smile. "It's for some stupid noble reason," he said.

"Which we both know is pointless and, well, stupid. I'm in love with you and I don't think anything could change that. I'm not afraid to die for that love."

"But see that's the thing, Ginny," Harry said angrily. "I'm afraid! If you died, I would never forgive myself."

"Do you love me?" she asked very quietly.

"That's not the point."

"Then what is? What difference does it make if we're going out or not? I'm still going to love you regardless and I'm pretty sure you feel the same way."

Harry didn't speak for a long time. "Yeah I do," he finally agreed. "I do love you. With all my heart." He reached for her hand and took it in his own.

She smiled. "Maybe you could prove that love to me."

He looked quizzically at her, not understanding. "Do I need to?"

"Well", she took his other hand and drew small circles on his palm. "We could always go back to your flat."

Harry took a step back from her. This was unexpected. Truthfully, he had thought about Ginny and him alone in his flat a number of times. He was, after all, male. But she was only sixteen. He was only seventeen but still, he didn't want to take away her innocence.

Ginny seemed to have read his thoughts and scowled. "I know what I want, Harry. I'm not a child."

"Maybe not tonight."

"Why not? Harry, I want to do this, I'm ready."

"Well, my flat still smells like paint," he began. She rolled her eyes. "Listen, I want our first time to be really romantic. Something really special."

"It's Christmas. What's more romantic then that? And it's us. That's all there is to it. And," she swallowed, "we might not have a chance again. Soon you'll have to face him. Who knows what will happen."

"Gee, thanks for the confidence," he said but grinned. "Still maybe not tonight. Your parents won't like it."

"They'll never know," she whispered.

Harry paused, thinking, but finally gave into his feelings. She was right; life is too short to waste, and his could be shorter than most.

When Ron walked back into the living room, mugs of hot chocolate in his hand, he found it completely empty. "I go to all this trouble and everyone leaves." He continued to mumble darkly to himself as he went back into the kitchen.


With a pop, Harry and Ginny arrived on a dark street corner in a well-known wizarding area of London. He took her hand and pulled his jacket tighter around him. Snow was beginning to fall again, reflecting the bright shop lights. The street was really beautiful that night.

"It's this building," Harry said, leading Ginny into a rather old-ish building and up three flights of stairs. When they reached the top, they were facing an empty wall.

Harry pulled her close and whispered into her ear, "I live in number 8, Penton Place."

Ginny frowned, confused, but as soon as Harry had spoken, a door appeared in front of them. Harry opened the door for her and followed her inside. The front hall opened into a small kitchen, connected to a rather large living-diner. The whole far wall was a window, with a beautiful view of the city. A spiral staircase led upstairs and a hall led off of the living room.

"Woah," she breathed, pulling off her hat, scarf, gloves and jacket and laying them over the back of the sofa. A Christmas tree stood glinting in the corner, fairy-lights twinkling. With a wave of his wand, the fireplace was lit. Another wave and a soft light filled the room as if hundreds of candles had been placed around it. "It's very neat," she said with a laugh. "I would have expected something more messy. Like Ron's room back home. But less…orange."

Harry smiled, strolled over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. With a wave of the wand, the cork was out and two glasses were being magically filled. Looking up, Harry saw Ginny was standing by the window, looking out at the lit up city.

"Christmas in the city is beautiful," Ginny said. Picking up the glasses, Harry walked over to her and gave her one. "You're being quiet. It's not like you."

Harry chuckled. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too. Care to give me a tour?"

"Sure," Harry said. He led her down the hall and pointed out the downstairs toilet, a guestroom, another guestroom that Ron had claimed, and a small study. Upstairs was just his bedroom and an en-suite bathroom.

"Are you sure your parents won't miss you?" Harry asked nervously, putting his glass down and pulling off his sweater. Ginny nodded smiling. With a wave of her wand, she lit the fireplace in his room and conjured candles to float around. "Ginny your not supposed to –"

But Ginny cut him off. "I turn seventeen in less than a month. And anyway, they'll never know." She grinned mischievously and put her glass down on the small coffee table by the fire. Harry took her hands and made her sit down in the armchair. He sat on the table in front of her. He knew what he had to do. He would tell her about the Horcruxes, about the prophecy. He'd tell her everything he'd told Ron and Hermione because she had a right to know the whole thing before she chose to love him.

Ginny listened in silence and nodded her head when he finished speaking.

"What do you think?" Harry asked.

"Well, it sounds hard. But you've found the cup and the box right? Only one left to find."

Harry sighed. "But I don't know where it is. I have no clue. How am I supposed to find something when I don't even know what I'm looking for?"

"You'll figure it out. I have complete faith in you."

Harry wanted to cry in relief, but he didn't. She wasn't running away from him scared like he feared she would. It didn't bother her that Voldemort would come looking for him. She'd stick by him no matter what.

Taking her face in his hands, Harry kissed her sweetly. She returned the kiss lovingly, hungrily. Her hands were on the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, but he stood and backed away a bit. Ginny sighed and closed her eyes. "What now?" she asked in exasperation.

"I'm still not sure if we should do this."

"Harry! Are you trying to protect me? I'm not even a year younger than you. I don't need protecting. I'm not a child Harry!"

"I just know how important this is and I don't want you to regret it."

"It'll happen between us anyway. Why wait?"

Ginny stood and went over to him. In a moment her arms were around his neck, his on her hips. Harry's shirt was off before he even noticed and he pressed against her for warmth. Ginny's knees began to tremble. If Harry let go of her, she'd fall down for sure. Harry's hands were working on her belt as they stumbled backwards towards the bed. Ginny fell onto it and sat but Harry managed to stay upright.

Grinning shyly at her, he took of his shoes. She took off her boots and slid further back along the covers. Harry crawled onto the bed after her. He wanted to hold her, never let her go, but she was now pulling off her sweater. Her shirt came off with it and she chucked them both on the floor. Shivering, Harry crawled under the covers and pulled her under with him. Then he held her very close, the material of her tank top was all that separated their bare skin.

Harry kissed the top of her head as she buried her nose into the hollow where his throat met his collarbone. Her nose was cold and Harry laughed, pulling away slightly to look into her brown eyes. Then she began to work on his belt buckle. Her fingers scrabbled at the metal, pushing and pulling, trying to get it undone but it wouldn't. Tears of frustration filled her eyes.

This wasn't right, she thought. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. It was too mechanical. Suddenly Ginny let out a sob and let go of his belt. Harry closed his eyes, hiding his disappointment. Now Ginny was moving away, getting out of the bed and looking for her shirt. Harry also climbed out and in two steps was standing by her. Slowly, he reached out and touched the back of her neck. She turned, her face turning red. They looked into each other's eyes for a long time.

"Why does it have to be you?" she finally asked.

"Voldemort chose me. I don't know why. But I'm glad he did."

"Well I'm not!" she cried out, tears overflowing and streaming down her face. "What if the worst happens and I don't see you again?"

Harry pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. They remained like that for a long time, until Ginny had stopped sobbing. Putting two fingers under her chin, Harry lifted her face towards his own. He kissed her gently then said, "If I die, I want to die with the taste of you on my lips."

"Please don't," she whispered, now unable to stop the steady flow of tears.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

"I feel like such a baby," she replied, sniffling, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

"Don't be stupid, Gin."

With a small, inaudible sigh, Harry took her hand. With a pop, they vanished and with another pop they were standing outside the Burrow in two feet of snow.

"Let's go inside before I freeze to death," Harry said, pulling her into the house. Two mugs of cold chocolate sat on the kitchen counter. Harry pointed his wand at them and steam rose in swirls above the dark brown liquid. Handing one to Ginny, he took a seat at the table.

Ginny blew softly on her hot chocolate. "Do you hate me?" she asked.

Harry choked. "Why would I hate you?"

She shrugged and took a sip. "I'm sorry about this evening."

The minute hand ticked onto the number twelve. "Christmas is over."

"Another year. I hate it when Christmas is done, just like that."

"Ginny, about tonight." He paused as she met his eyes. "It'll happen between us, but maybe it was a good thing it didn't tonight. You're going back to school in a week and I have to leave too."

"I want to go with you," she said, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. "Please let me come."

Harry brushed a tear off her face and told her the answer she'd been expecting: that they might never see each other again. Ginny looked down. When she looked back up, Harry had gone.

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