Life can just be overwhelming, can't it?

"I'm not up for much of anything," Harry admitted, pushing himself miserably off the duvet.

Ginny turned, glaring at him. "I've been up all day working on essay after essay, and here you are, just awaking at 2 PM!"

Harry rolled his eyes at her prudency. It was Saturday.

"Don't role your eyes at me!" She strode over to him, hair whipping with painful purpose, and leaned down slowly. Her v-neck sweater plunged farther than Harry's sanity could allow, and he found himself again lusting after his best friend's sister. His heart leapt, filled with terrible desire, and then anger, as Ginny was not his for the taking. He vaguely wondered if her short temper had anything to do with the rumor he heard about her and Dean fighting lately.

"Come on Ginny, it's Saturday," he argued, while heading to his closet to find some usable sneakers.

"So?" she said impatiently, following close behind as he shuffled into his shoes.

Harry turned and sighed at the sight of her, shrugging as though this could explain it all. She was nearly as bad as Hermione, who was up every morning by seven just to study. Saturday was a day of leisure, Mondays were for craming.

"What are you here for anyway, Ginny?" he said, albeit a bit irritated. Who was she to march into his room, shake him awake, yell at him for relaxing, and then rebute every statement he made?

Ginny was ever-defiant, her lovely brown eyes didn't waver the slightest as she stared back into his green ones.

"Hermione asked me to come fetch you. She said she wanted help in the library." Ginny looked away as she said so, pacing toward an open window. Harry watched her move until his eyes hurt from concentration. He spun away, sitting on his bed with legs splayed wide. His bed groaned from the impact. Maybe he should be laying off the butterbeers.

Ginny looked over, her eyes suddenly unreadable, a guarded expression upon her face. She glided toward him until they were feet apart.

"I really think Hermione could use the help," She stepped a foot closer, "She was too involved in her work to fetch you herself," one more step, "It's probably a good idea to go over there." Ginny was now standing in between his open legs, her knees slightly bent against the bed. Harry was practically heaving in his herculanium effort not to grab her right there.

And suddenly Ginny looked sad, more down than he had ever seen her. Harry was taken aback, but instantly worried. He awkwardly asked, "Er…is everything okay, Ginny?"

She didn't respond immediately. Seeming not to hear him, she leaned down, and put her arms around his neck, embracing him.

"Just hold me for now, Harry. We'll figure all the rest out later. There's just too much to deal with sometimes." She said quietly.

Harry nodded. What with Voldemort, schoolwork, the Half-Blood Prince, and Ginny herself, life could definitely get overwhelming.

Harry put his arms around her back, inhaled her scent, and wished every moment could be as easy, or as beautiful as this one.