Summary: He grew up buoyed on the love and light of his father. Ginny Weasley is a taste of thunder, and Harry Potter has been struck by her lightning. A series of connected one-shots. AU, H/G

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, yo. It belongs to the lovely J.K. Rowling, and I'm just toying with her wonderful world.

Author's Note: I have returned to writing fanfiction after a long hiatus…I've just finished my first year at my dream university. Suffice it to say I've had an excellent year but I've missed Harry Potter so, so much (even though my university is basically Hogwarts). I started writing little passages here and there for this concept a long time ago, and now I'm very happy to say I'm starting to pull them all together to present what has been sitting in my document folder as 'the untitled harry potter project' for months and is now essentially a collection of H/G one-shots, all linked.
I hope you enjoy reading it! Please do leave a review, nothing makes an author's day more.

Chapter One:

Birthdays

Prologue

'Catch it Harry! Come on! I know you can!'

James Potter laughed uproariously as his son, barely a year of age, fumbled for the puffs of brightly coloured smoke emerging from his wand. Harry was chuckling along in that reckless, carefree way that babies do.

Lily watched from the doorway, a sad smile on her face. For a single moment she'd allowed herself to believe that this truly was their life…the expressions of pure pleasure held by her son and husband…

'You're right,' she said, and Harry instinctively reached out at the sound of her voice. 'He is going to be a great Quidditch player. He doesn't give up.'

James grinned, tossing his wand onto the sofa. Harry made a small noise of complaint as the wisps of smoke bled into thin air. 'Like father, like son.'

Lily's smile deepened as she took Harry from James, resting her nose gently into his mop of black hair, inhaling greedily. 'I'll put him to bed. He's tired from playing games with his silly daddy, aren't you?'

Harry yawned in response, burrowing his face into his mother's shoulder and her thick red hair. James nodded as he moved towards the stairs, indicating his intention to follow her.

It was at that instant that their door was blasted apart; hard flakes of wood showered down over all three Potters and James was thrown violently against the wall and buried beneath what remained of it.

Harry was screaming now, his small hands scrabbling desperately at the ends of his mother's hair, peppered with white dust, but she was standing, paralysed. James was not stirring, and Lily mouthed his name hoarsely even as she stared into those scarlet, scarlet eyes…

'He is dead. Stand away from the boy.' the high, cold voice seemed to awaken her, she threw Harry behind her so that he landed with a thud onto the stairs, but the toddler was too shocked to react. His screams subsided.

'Not Harry,' she croaked. 'Not Harry, please not Harry!'

'Step aside-'

'Have mercy, take me instead, just not Harry…not my son-'

'Step aside!'

But she did not; her arms flailed widely at her sides, as though she could really stop him…he laughed mercilessly…the incantation came easily…

'Avada Kedavra!'

Green light jetted towards her and she crumpled, revealing the boy. He was crying again, but not the same raw wailing as before. It was a silent resignation…as though he knew what was about to happen…

'Avada Kedavra!'

And Lord Voldemort broke, a shell of his former self…he deserted the ruined house as quickly as he'd entered it…and James Potter feebly moved from beneath his shroud of broken glass and wood…

SUMMER 1996

31st July

Dewy sunlight streamed into the small room, casting a lazy morning glow. Incoherent mumbling drifted from beneath the bedclothes and Ginny Weasley pulled one bright brown eye open. Then another.

There was an abrupt pounding on her door, and she groaned as her youngest brother's voice rang out, 'Ginny! Get up! Mum says if you're not washed and dressed in fifteen minutes I have permission to use Aguamenti on you.'

'No magic outside of Hogwarts!' Ginny shook the last dregs of sleep off and shouted back at Ron.

'I'm willing to take the punishment,' he answered.

Groggily, she stepped out of bed, untangling her legs from the jungle of sheets. The hot breath of the sun warmed her arms as she yanked denim shorts and a yellow vest top from her wardrobe and padded to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, it was occupied. She pounded loudly on the door, expecting one of her brothers to be in there, but staggered back as it was flung open, revealing an elegant blonde with a peeved look on her face.

'I 'ave only been in there fifteen minutes,' said Fleur defensively. 'Eet was custom at Beauxbatons to awaken before nine, although, you are needing your beauty sleep, mm?'

Ginny gritted her teeth and forced a smile at her brother's fiancée. It won't last, she told herself, returning to her room. Bill will see sense.

By the time she had slumped downstairs and taken a half-hearted bite of the limp toast her mother handed her, it was already nearing eleven. All her brothers, save Percy, who was off somewhere being a first-rate Ministry git, were at the Burrow specially for Harry's birthday. Even Charlie, who she could see helping Bill decorate through the window, had popped back from Romania for the next few days to make sure he didn't miss it. The Potters and Weasleys were obscenely close; it was considered, at least by Mrs Weasley, a form of blasphemy to miss a family occasion.

'I do wish you had woken up a little earlier, dear,' Mrs Weasley chided, as she twisted her wand through the air to adjust the bunting. 'The Potters will be here in less than twenty minutes, and I could have used your help with Harry's cake.'

Ginny rolled her eyes and crammed the last of her toast into her mouth. When would her mother give up on insisting she became skilled in all matters culinary?

'You should have just made a treacle tart,' said Ginny.

'I have.' Mrs Weasley said briskly. 'But I thought he'd appreciate a cake, as well. By the way, what have you bought Harry for his birthday? Because you really ought to have got him something, dear, he gave you that lovely present on your last birthday.'

Ginny grimaced as she recalled the tokens for Madam Puddifoot's teashop that Harry had jokingly tossed her August of last year. Her brothers had all rolled around laughing, and of course James Potter had been beside himself, but Ginny didn't find it funny in the slightest. The real reason Harry had given her such a thing was because – to her intense embarrassment – he'd walked past horrible teashop on a Hogsmeade weekend before school had finished and seen her in a very compromising position with Dean Thomas. Thankfully, he'd sworn up and down he wouldn't tell anyone – after Ginny had threatened to hex him into the next century if he did – but the present had been a 'subtle' hint at the incident.

'I did get him something, Mum,' Ginny said. Albeit, probably not what her mother had in mind. But she was determined to get revenge for last year.

'Good. Now, are you really going to wear those ratty old shorts to Harry's birthday?'

'What's wrong with this?' said Ginny. In fact, those denim shorts were last year's, and she'd done a lot of growing up since then. They squeezed her in the right places, and Quidditch practice had helped to tone her legs.

'It's a party,' said Mrs Weasley. 'I…oh, never mind. Where's your father? If he's tinkering around with that Muggle rubbish in that shed of his again, I'm going to –'

She was interrupted by the unmistakable roar of the Floo; clambering out of the diminishing emerald flames were James Potter, Sirius Black, and of course, Harry.

'Sorry we're a bit early, Molly…thought you could use a hand setting up.' said James, smiling as he dusted himself free of soot.

'I've got it under control,' Mrs Weasley exclaimed, but she embraced her friends, her hands still encased in oven mitts. 'Happy birthday, Harry, dear.'

The boy in question, ran a hand through his dishevelled mop of black hair, and smiled. 'Thanks, Mrs Weasley.'

'You can help Bill and Charlie, they're outside putting up balloons,' said Mrs Weasley to James and Sirius, who nodded. Ginny leapt up from her chair and hugged Harry's father. 'Hi, Mr Potter, Mr Black.'

'Ginny, my partner in crime,' Harry's father, tall, bespectacled, and good-looking, much like his son, winked at her as he released her. 'Nice to see you…and call us James and Sirius, don't make us feel old.'

'Hi, Ginny,' Harry shuffled forward, offering her a boyish grin. 'Where's Ron?'

'Oh, that's nice, here five seconds and already clamouring for your boyfriend instead of making polite conversation with me.' Ginny quipped. James chuckled as she hastened over to the staircase and bellowed, 'RON! HARRY'S HERE!'

'It's like having seven boys,' she heard her mother huff.

'Oh, and happy birthday, Potter,' she added.

'Finally. I thought you'd forgotten.' said Harry, but he smiled in thanks.

She didn't get a chance to reply, because there was a thunderous rampage of footsteps, and Ron materialised, his bright red hair, not unlike her own, ruffled.

'Happy birthday, mate. Is she giving you a hard time?' he said. 'Hi Mr Potter, Mr Black.'

'No, she's being delightful actually,' Harry said mildly, over his father and Sirius's protestations over the use of their formal names.

'Is Hermione here, yet, Ginny?' Ron demanded.

'No.' she said shortly. It was so typical of Ron to exclude her like that, but she was growing used to it now. In the summer, it wasn't as bad; Hermione always tried to include her, for one, and lately Harry had casually asked if Ginny was joining them from time to time.

'Come on, we can probably grab a few Pumpkin Pasties before Mum sees,' Ron said to Harry, who grinned and allowed himself to be tugged into the kitchen. Sighing heavily, Ginny flopped down on the bottom step of the curvature staircase.

'Come on, what are you doing moping over here? Shouldn't you be plotting some sort of prank to play on my godson?' Sirius grinned down at her.

'Don't worry, the plan is already in motion,' said Ginny.

'I knew you wouldn't let me down. Promise me a front row seat?' Sirius said eagerly.

'Of course,' she managed a grin, and satisfied, Harry's godfather sloped off to help James and the others with the decorations.

The Weasleys always had the Potters over for Harry's birthdays; James had originally given weak protestations, but Ginny suspected, and her mother certainly did, that he was glad to surround himself and his son with all the more people on such occasions…it made the absence of Lily much less pronounced.

Ginny glanced over at Harry. He was talking now with Fred and George, laughing at something they had said. She couldn't help but notice the way that strands of his stupidly messy hair were falling into his eyes. He brushed them away impatiently as she watched on.

'Like what you see?'

This time, a genuine smile broke across Ginny's blank face as she heard that voice. Throwing herself off the stairs, she launched at a mass of bushy brown hair.

'Hermione!'

'Staring at Harry? Really, Ginny,' Hermione teased, setting down the suspiciously-book shaped package she was carrying on the nearby table.

'I wasn't,' Ginny said hotly. 'You look brown.'

'I just got back from France with my parents,' said Hermione. 'So, has anything interesting happened?'

'Well, I've lost count of the times Ron has dragged us to the Potters', and Harry's wheedled round here.' replied Ginny. 'Fred and George have opened their joke shop, but they haven't let us visit yet. Mum's going spare, you know what she's like, has to know everything…I can't wait to see it and stock up.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not sure that's very wise, Ginny, your OWL year is approaching. You don't want to get mixed up in all those silly tricks.'

'I've actually missed your priggish advice,' Ginny said. 'How about a nice game of Quidditch? Do you want to see me fly rings around the birthday boy?'

'Definitely not,' Hermione looked positively petrified now. 'I hate flying. Can't you just play with Harry and your brothers? Oh, and Cho, I suppose, she is on the Ravenclaw team.'

'Cho?' Ginny tried to sound nonchalant.

'Harry invited her, she is his girlfriend,' Hermione reminded her.

'Obviously,' said Ginny quickly. She glowered over at Harry, who was still absorbed in an apparently hilarious exchange with the twins, since he was guffawing.

The next batch of guests arrived in a cluster; Hagrid, who had grown about three inches in height since last they'd seen him and came clutching an enormous parcel that looked like Hedwig, Harry's owl, had wrapped it; Remus Lupin, their former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and a close friend of the Potters'; Cho, who looked very pretty with her dark hair tied up, and Tonks, Remus's girlfriend, who was sporting cropped, bubblegum pink hair and a sloping nose.

Mrs Weasley ushered them into chairs; they were sitting outside for Hagrid's benefit and consequently spent a substantial amount of time swatting away various insects from themselves.

'So, Harry, I heard you're Quidditch captain for this year, I – oops, wotcher, Ron!' Tonks barked the last few words as a clumsy collision with her elbow sent a plate of Cauldron Cakes flying towards Ron's direction. Some swift wand movement from Mr Weasley had them horizontal again, but placed deliberately away from Tonks's flailing limbs.

'Yeah,' said Harry thickly, tearing off a strip of chicken. 'I'm hoping to whip the team back into shape, last year was a bit of a mess. Mostly thanks to Umbridge.'

Everyone at the table, even Mrs Weasley, shared very dirty looks at the mention of the ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. She was responsible for the scars on the back of Harry's hand, not to mention the faint scratches that Ginny, Ron, Hermione and countless others also wore.

'Well, now that we've got more time to spend with our OWLs over…' said Ron.

'Don't speak too fast, brother dear,' said Fred. 'NEWT year is a bitc – er, very difficult,' he glanced nervously at his mother.

'How would you know?' said Ron. 'You only did NEWTs for about five minutes.'

'Are you trying out again this year, Ginny?' Harry spoke directly to her.

'I might do,' she said nonchalantly. Of course she had made her mind up weeks ago. She was vying for the position of Chaser and was determined to get it.

'Good, we need more Weasleys on the team,' he said brightly. Ginny felt her face beginning to heat and pinched her thigh, hard.

'Got to cover up your shoddy playing somehow, Potter.' she smirked.

'Ginny!' her mother scolded.

'She was joking, Molly,' her father muttered, as Harry raised his eyebrows in response. 'That's Captain to you, Weasley.'

'That's enough flirting, you two, you're putting me off my chicken.' said Sirius, grinning.

'Er, Padfoot,' James elbowed him sharply and tilted his head towards Cho, who said nothing, but whose cheeks were now tinted a light pink.

'Flirt with him? I'd rather strip naked and rap to "Can You Sing Like A Hippogriff".' said Ginny, trying to inject a little humour into Sirius's candid remark.

Fred, who was taking a slurp of pumpkin juice, spluttered and sent droplets flying over the tablecloth; Ron looked disgusted; George was thumping Fred hard on the back; Charlie and Bill looked amused but maintained a dignified silence, and Harry tried very hard to conceal a smile, but failed. Sirius looked delighted.

'Ginny,' her mother's tone was steely, but her mouth was giving a telltale twitch at the corners.

After they'd finished eating, Harry was the first to propose a game of Quidditch. He received affirmations from Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Cho and the twins, whilst Hermione hurriedly asked Mrs Weasley if she needed help clearing up, and Fleur said in a loud voice, 'Eet is such a rough game, I 'ave never seen ze appeal.'

Mrs Weasley looked as though she very much agreed with Fleur, but was loathe to do so out loud.

'Harry and I will be Seekers, then,' suggested Cho.

'Ron can be Keeper, we'll be Beaters,' George gestured to himself and Fred. 'Ginny will be Chaser. We still need another Chaser and a Keeper to make the teams even, if Fred and I are on different sides.'

'Bill, you're alright, you be a Keeper,' begged Fred. 'James, you can be the Chaser, you used to play for Gryffindor, didn't you?'

Bill glanced at Fleur. 'One game.'

'I'm honoured,' James grinned at the Weasleys. 'But I think the Potters are going to show you how the game is played.'

Cho gave Harry a chaste kiss on the cheek; he didn't seem too enthusiastic about it, Ginny couldn't help but observe, and Cho seemed to notice this as well, because her mouth tightened a little.

It was soon clear who the natural players were; Harry, Ginny and Charlie, who also happened to be the most competitive, were out-flying the others immediately. Although James hadn't played since he'd left Hogwarts, and that was almost twenty years back, he was about equal with the trio, albeit rusty in places. Cho, Ron and the twins were also showcasing good skills, but Bill was abysmal. It was all he could do to stay on his broom, but Fleur still insisted on shouting encouragement from the sidelines.

'…and that's 70-50 to us,' Fred yelled, as the Snitch just evaded Harry's open grip.

'Sonorus,' Molly Weasley gestured with her wand towards her own throat. 'Everyone, the Quidditch game is over! Come down!' her magically enhanced voice echoed throughout the garden.

'The game isn't over until the Snitch is caught,' the twins called back to her.

'If it isn't caught soon, she'll just come up here and get it herself.' Ginny said, and Ron nodded.

'Get your head in the game, Harry,' he said lightly.

It wasn't until another twenty points later – courtesy of Ginny – that finally, the Snitch was clasped safely in Harry's hands, and he had a triumphant smile over his face that was, Ginny thought, both extremely infuriating and attractive at the same time.

'What's that you were saying about beating me?' said Harry, grinning, as they returned to the ground with a soft, squelchy thud.

'It's your birthday, I had to let you win.' said Ginny, although she had a faint smile on her face. She was trying very hard to ignore how good he looked with his raven hair all windswept and mud smeared over his sharp jawline…imagine kissing that jawline…No!

'Time for presents,' Mrs Weasley bustled over, 'and, for some of us, a good wash. If you come to the door, dear, I'll siphon the mud off you. Honestly, it's made your face all red, Ginny.'

Somehow, Mrs Weasley had managed to shepherd all the guests, even a tentative Hagrid, into the Burrow and they gathered round to give Harry his gifts.

'A new homework planner, er, thanks, Hermione,' said Harry, giving the thing a hasty flick through.

'I know you misplaced the old one,' she beamed, 'so I got you a new one. NEWT year won't plan itself.'

'Open mine, Harry,' Ron said hurriedly. He thrust a simple red envelope towards his friend, who carefully tore it open to reveal a card declaring him to have a year-long subscription to Which Broomstick?, which Ginny knew was his favourite wizarding magazine.

'That's brilliant, mate,' Harry said appreciatively. 'If I'm going to get the team into shape this year, I'll need the best pointers.'

Interestingly, James and Sirius had bought him a new broomstick. Recently Harry's Nimbus had been getting a little ragged and battered, so he was now presented with the Firebolt. Running his hands over the sleek, shiny, honey-coloured wood, he said, 'I wish we hadn't already played Quidditch, I can't wait to try this out.'

Ginny stared enviously at the contraption; the contrast in wealth between the Potters and the Weasleys was huge, and very apparent. Her brothers, except Bill, were just as hungrily devouring every inch of Harry's new broom, and she swore that there was a spot of drool bubbling at the corners of Ron's mouth.

'It looks fantastic,' she said.

'You can have a go on it, if you like,' offered Harry immediately. Realising what he'd said after catching sight of the gleeful look on Sirius's face, he added, 'er, and the rest of you, obviously. Ron?'

'Are you joking? You're bloody right I want a go!' Ron exclaimed.

'Language,' said Mrs Weasley, rubbing her temple exhaustedly. 'Open ours, dear.'

They had bought him a new wizard's chess set, and squeezed into the parcel also some home-made fudge.

'This is great,' Harry flashed the Weasleys a warm smile.

Once he'd ripped, torn and rampaged his way through the offerings of Remus and Tonks, Hagrid, Cho and the twins, he turned, expectantly to Ginny, who was tucked into an armchair behind him.

'Weasley?' he said, and there was an unspoken challenge in his eyes.

'I wouldn't forget your birthday, Harry,' she said sweetly. 'My present is on the kitchen table.'

Surprise flickered across his face; clearly he hadn't really expected her to get him anything. He jogged over to where the plainly-wrapped gift lay.

'It looks like a box,' Harry observed, stroking the wrapping paper with delicate ease.

'Just open it,' Sirius said impatiently. He caught Ginny's eye and threw her a devilish grin.

He obliged.

'It's empty – wait, what the f-'

There was a collective gasp from the room as a vibrant red jet of light shot out of the box and hit Harry square in the face. Immediately, he started shaking and shrinking rapidly. A sheen of green scales rippled across his skin; his nose morphed into a tiny snout. Where the Boy-Who-Lived had once stood, there was now a very tiny baby dragon.

Sirius was the first to break the silence by roaring with laughter. Ron and Hermione exchanged shocked glances; James was looking as though he didn't know whether to laugh or faint.

'What on earth have you done, Ginevra?' Mrs Weasley bolted over to where the miniature, fire-breathing beast was stood. Harry-the-dragon was swaying, his four scaly feet planted firmly on the ground, as though he was still in a state of shock.

Fred and George were staring in open admiration, and, by their own admission, fear. 'Merlin. Ginny, how did you do that? That's really complex Transfiguration.'

'I had some help from Hermione,' Ginny shrugged.

Ron turned accusingly on his friend, who at once held her hands up defensively. 'I had no idea what she was planning to do with that information! She asked me how to plant an anthropomorphic spell into an inanimate object. I thought it was for a holiday homework assignment.' Hermione said.

'I think it's a bit of good magic,' Cho spoke up. Ginny looked over gratefully at her. 'Although, I don't know what Harry did to deserve it.'

'It is sort of funny.' said Ron fairly.

Ginny walked over to the little dragon, which had taken a few tentative steps, and gently lifted him up. 'It'll wear off in about half an hour, Harry,' she bore her eyes into his own bright green ones.

'I can't believe you would do this to the poor boy.' Mrs Weasley reprimanded. 'And what happened to not being able to use magic outside of Hogwarts?'

'I prepared it while I was still at school,' explained Ginny, 'but I won't do it again, honestly.'

'Indeed, because I'm confiscating your wand!' Mrs Weasley snapped.

'Molly, don't be ridiculous,' her father came to her defence. 'Ginny played an innocent prank. I admit it wasn't the best birthday present Harry's ever had, but…there are far worse things she could have done.' he looked pointedly at the twins.

They were interrupted by a breathy squeak from the dragon. Apprehensively, Ginny plopped him onto the kitchen table.

A puff of smoke blossomed from its tiny snout, followed by a pocketful of fire, which seemed to extinguish itself as quickly as it had been produced.

'He's very cute,' said Cho.

xxx

The rest of the day passed with little event. Harry-the-dragon entertained them all by flying wobbly loops around the room, and actually collided with the Weasley clock with one of his widespread wings. His sudden transformation back to a boy was made awkward due to the fact that he had been perched on Cho's lap at the time. After a hasty apology and scrambling off her, he had actually grinned at Ginny and said, 'That was one of my favourite presents, Weasley. I can't wait until next year.'

Despite her mother warning her she'd be spending the next day de-gnoming the garden – alone – Ginny felt quite upbeat, especially considering her prank had worked. She considered Harry almost dutifully paid back for his mean little trick on her last year.

'Oh,' she caught Cho's sleeve just as the girl was about to step into the fireplace. 'Someone gave me these, but I don't think I'll use them. D'you want them?'

Cho plucked the magenta coupons out of Ginny's proffered hand. 'Thanks, Ginny! I love Madam Puddifoot's. I can't wait to tell Harry. Bye!'

An evil smile rippled across Ginny's face. Now he was paid back in full.

11th August

The clock chimed twelve times, and Ginny smiled to herself in the dark.

Fifteen.

Still young, admittedly, but old enough now to shake off her mother's reservations about boyfriends, old enough to muscle her way into Order meetings now that she was the same age her brother, Harry and Hermione had been when they'd done it. Old enough to put her silly girlhood crush on Harry Potter behind her. Right? Right.

She swung her feet out of bed and stuffed them into her slippers, careful not to tread on Hermione, who was staying with them for the remainder of the summer.

It was her birthday tradition, every year, and this year would be no exception.

She hopped over the creaky bottom stair, jumped over a sleeping Crookshanks, and pirouetted over the abandoned Exploding Snap cards by the fireplace. Years of experience allowed her to open and shut the front door with no more than a soft click, and then she was racing across the garden to the broom shed, yanking the safety pin from where it was pinned on her pyjama shorts.

The grass was damp beneath her bare feet as she kicked off, her hands wrapped tightly around Ron's broomstick. She soared through the star-crested sky, suppressing a 'whoop' as cold air ran through her billowing hair.

She'd started her tradition on August 11th, 1987. Her sixth birthday. She'd flung herself on her bed and cried, that night, because her brothers had been adamant that she was too young, too girly, to play Quidditch with them. Furious tears had soaked her pillow, but it was that same searing fury that hadn't allowed her to sleep that night. That had spurred her out of bed, led her to creep clumsily down the stairs, break into the broom shed. She'd stolen Fred's broom (he had been the most vociferous in not letting her play) and spent hours gliding through the air.

She'd worn bags under her eyes for days afterwards, and fallen asleep in her plate of bacon and eggs the next morning, but that tiny act of rebellion had ignited in her the nerve to do whatever she wanted, even if others were set on stopping her.

Breathing heavily, but beaming all over her face, she plodded back into the house. Sweat glistened on her forehead, a tell-tale sheen, but all thoughts of washing her face in the kitchen sink were extinguished when she saw Harry Potter standing by the fireplace.

Ginny jumped and spluttered; he didn't react. He was looking at her with a very strange expression on his face. A mixture between…confusion and…admiration?

'What the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me like that?' she hissed.

'Ron was snoring, I couldn't sleep.' said Harry, but his expression didn't change. 'I saw you through his bedroom window.'

'Mum keeps the Sleeping Draughts in that cupboard.' Ginny said, gesturing vaguely. Her face was burning. What he must have thought…she was standing there in her threadbare, ropey pyjama shorts and t-shirt. Her hair was mussed and sweaty. And she'd been flying with reckless abandon, looping upside-down. It hadn't been her best showing.

'You looked…really happy.' Harry said, suddenly, jolting her from her thoughts. 'You really love it, don't you?'

'Don't you?' she returned. Neither of them spoke for a few, pregnant moments.

'Well.' she said bracingly. 'We'd better go back to bed.'

Harry didn't move. Neither did she.

Maybe it was the fact that it was half one in the morning, and she was slightly delirious. Maybe it was the adrenaline still pumping through her body after flying. Or maybe it was something else, the fact that it was Harry, looking stupidly adorable with his messy black hair and Snitch pyjama bottoms, and that he was easy to talk to and staring at her as though he could see past her defences. But Ginny opened her mouth and blurted:

'It helps me forget about the Chamber.'

Harry's eyes, which had been roaming her rapidly heating face, snapped to her own.

'When I fly, I forget about Tom Riddle and the things he made me do,' she whispered. 'I can forget about hurting people and almost closing the school and getting Hagrid sent to Azkaban. Most days, I have to carry that with me, and I've accepted it, because I have to. But Harry...when I'm flying, I can really forget that it happened. That stupid little Ginny Weasley sold her soul to an enchanted diary.'

She hadn't realised while she was talking, but Harry had moved towards her so that his hands were skimming her own. He was looking at her, not with pity, or revulsion, but…well…

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry all that stuff happened to you. But it wasn't your fault.' said Harry. 'I'm sorry I never talked to you about it…I should have. I was there too.' he frowned. 'And you're not stupid, all right? You're the furthest thing from it. Fred and George have told me all about your Bat Bogey Hex, you know. And Malfoy had some strong words to say about it too.'

Ginny smiled, and he returned it. 'Look, Ginny. If you want to talk about…that stuff…you can talk to me. We're friends. Not just because of Ron,' he added quickly, 'because I like having you as my friend.' he said, seriously.

This is fine. I can be Harry's friend.

Dean was coming over for her birthday. He had lovely, emerald green eyes…No! she told herself, abandoning that train of thought. Harry's my friend. We're like family.

Encouraged, Ginny pulled him into a light hug. She felt him tense, and then return it. It was a little awkward, and neither of them really seemed to know when to pull away, and when they did, he nodded at her and moved towards the stairs.

I can. I can be his friend. I can hug him and feel nothing

'Oh.' he turned, suddenly, with a shifty grin. 'Happy birthday, Weasley. I can't wait to give you your present.'

And with that, he shuffled hastily up the stairs.

Well, fuck. Ginny almost groaned aloud. He smelled of milky soap and soft cotton, his smile was crooked, and his eyes were that stupid, stupid green that made her palms itchy and her stomach drop.

There was absolutely no way that they could just be friends.

Author's Note:

So I just wanted to clear up a few things…
This story is AU. The things I've tweaked are as follows:
-James Potter was not killed in October 1981. He and Sirius Black raised Harry
-Ginny has been dating Dean since her fourth year, rather than Michael Corner, and Harry has been dating Cho Chang for the same period of time
-The events of every book up until now remain the same (e.g. Triwizard Tournament, Umbridge) with a few exceptions, e.g. Sirius wasn't killed at the Department of Mysteries

Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! I have a lot of one-shots planned already, but may be open to requests!