Author's Note: I don't own anything (sadly).
***Even though the books will always be better than the movies, I do like the scene in HPB movie on the staircase at the Burrow (before all that crazy Bellatrix Lestrange nonsense). Here's my take on what could have happened...enjoy!
Harry was sitting on the staircase and looking out the window into the darkness of night around the Burrow, thinking. He had fallen in love with this house the first moment he laid eyes upon it. Even now, years later, it was his favorite place to be in the world, besides Hogwarts of course. Although Voldemort was gaining more followers and making his plans, Harry took comfort in knowing that he always had true friends at the Burrow.
Suddenly, Harry heard footsteps coming up the stairs. It was Ginny, clearly having just showered, as she was wearing a robe and her fiery red hair was wet.
"Did Ron go to bed yet?" she asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Harry replied nervously. He remembered that just a few years ago it was Ginny who was too scared to speak when she was around him, but now he felt as though they had swapped roles. He had known, since the moment he and Ron had witnessed Ginny snogging Dean in the corridor, that his feelings for Ginny were much more complex than those of a normal "she's my best friend's sister" relationship. The monster in his chest had confirmed that time and time again.
"Shoelace," Ginny said, pointing downward and smiling.
Harry didn't immediately understand. "What?" he asked, with a confused expression on his face.
Ginny stepped closer to him, knelt down, and tied his shoelace for him. When she stood back up, she was very close to him. Too close. He smelled the same flowery scent that he'd been reminded of by Professor Slughorn's love potion earlier that year.
"Thanks," he stammered, still staring at his feet.
When he dared to look up, he was almost taken back by what he saw. Looking into Ginny's eyes was more enjoyable than anything Harry could ever remember doing. Better than playing Quidditch, better than gulping hot butterbeer on a snowy day, better than… well… everything else in the world. Her eyes were stunningly bright, as though they were reflecting the sun itself.
"No problem," she replied, still beaming with that gorgeous smile of hers that always seemed to melt Harry's insides. She inched a tiny bit closer to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. What is she doing? Harry's mind was spinning, but that didn't stop him from placing his hands on either side of her waist, bringing her still closer to him. He felt her other arm rest on his other shoulder, and her hand hovered over the back of his neck. He saw her eyes flutter shut just before his own did the same. Their lips were mere inches apart, but with a final sharp intake of breath from Ginny, that gap was closed. Harry gently pressed his lips into hers, and he felt their warmth. They were like silk. He parted his lips slightly, and she followed suit, deepening the kiss. Soon, her hands were in his hair, cradling his head. His hands were spread to cover her back, holding her close against his body. Passion flowed through his entire being, but he continued to kiss her slowly. Deeply and longingly, but slowly nonetheless. Harry began to realize that there was one thing that was more enjoyable than looking into Ginny's eyes, and it was kissing her.
For a moment, an image of Ron coming down this staircase and finding them locked in this embrace passed through Harry's mind. Then, Ginny stroked one of her hands down his chest and came to rest at his hip, and all of his worries of being discovered evaporated away.
After what seemed like ages of bliss, they slowly broke the kiss.
"Happy Christmas, Harry," Ginny whispered, a small smile playing upon her swollen lips.
Harry broke into the widest smile he probably ever had. "Happy Christmas."