A/N: Quick drabble. Hope you enjoy!

Ginny stared, her chocolate eyes drilling holes into Harry's, and in that one moment, that one exhaustion-induced moment, he thought she looked like a Siren. A sight for sore eyes, at least. Bright red hair spilling over her shoulders in tangled waves and curls and knots, brown eyes flecked with hazel fierce and luminous in her angular face. She looked like an avenging archangel—but if she was an angel, then he was in heaven and hell at the same time.

Harry was trapped. His feet would not obey him and move forward and his mouth would not unstick from what he was sure was a self-induced langlock, and as they kept staring into each other's eyes, he would have given up the world just for her to say something.

She finally did, moving forward. Her hair looked like liquid fire as she drew closer. It was apt, he thought, that such a fiery person should have the hair color to match.

"If you ever leave me again," she said clearly, making sure that he could hear every single syllable, "or pretend to snuff it because you're a bloody noble git, I will personally hex you ten ways to Saturday. Or Sunday, preferably, however that stupid Muggle saying went. Understand?"

It was all Harry could do to nod, the lump of emotions clogging his throat in a parody of the traffic he'd seen when the Dursleys had been forced to take him to London.

Ginny was close enough to touch. Her flowery sent filled the air and made him dizzy. Ginny, he thought hazily. The thought pattern was as familiar as the back of his hand. Ginny.

"Good," she whispered, her lips curving upwards in her oh-so familiar smile. The look in her eyes was home as she drew nearer, and when she kissed him, the world was right again.

Review, please :)

-Alex xx