DISCLAIMER: *scoffs* Yep. Totally. In my wildest, grandest dreams.

A/N: So, this was a fan art-inspired piece. I really wish I could draw, but sadly, I - er - to put it bluntly - I suck at it. I am an artist of words. :) A picture may speak a thousand words, but to me, writing those words down and manipulating them into that picture is a hell of a lot more fun. :D

Summary: Harry and Ginny were better friends than you may think before that Saturday night after the Quidditch Cup. There were many times when Ron and Hermione didn't know where he was or what to do about his moods, and Ginny was the one to snap him out of it. So, you might ask the question, who are really Harry's best friends? Perhaps he had...three.

The corridor was brightened with golden sunlight gathering in warm, contained streaks wherever it could reach, it's tendrils coiling in through the wide windows. Shrieks and squeals could be heard from the group of fourth-years who had congregated by the lake to talk, play in the shallows, or, if they were feeling particularly guilty about not doing their homework, at least pretend to study.

One certain Harry Potter, however, was in no mood to take part in such activities with his classmates. Instead, he secluded himself in an empty hallway to...well...he'd never admit it, but brood.

As he settled onto the platform of a stately statue of a magnificent lion, back against the wall and fingers idly tracing one of it's front paws, Harry found himself working back through the three days previous, wondering when he'd ever given Ron reason to doubt his honesty.

Well, a little voice nagged, honesty wouldn't really be something you're known for, Potter.

But not with him! a defiant bit of his brain cried indignantly.

"I've always been straight with him!" Harry muttered aloud, bringing up one foot to brace against the corner of the statue he was sitting on, resting his arm on his raised knee and twirling his wand between his fingers. Red and gold sparks crackled from it's tip in his anger and frustration, which bubbled just below the surface.

"You've always been straight with who?"

The voice was familiar, yet it took a second to place it. When he looked up, Harry saw, much to his surprise, that the speaker was Ginny Weasley.

"Er...Hi," he mumbled, feeling his face flush at being caught talking to himself.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing towards the spot next to him on the statue.

"All right," he said. Eloquent, the berating voice snorted.

Shut up, he told it firmly.

Ginny brushed some of his trailing robe off the base of the statue and perched herself against the wall next to him, stretching her long legs out in front of her.

Flicking a strand of hair out of her face, she raised one eyebrow at Harry. "Well?"

"What?" he grumbled, glowering at his knee, annoyed that his thoughts had been interrupted.

Ginny sighed impatiently. "Who were you talking about, Harry?" she asked, her tone surprisingly gentle.

"Oh. Ah...Ron," he muttered bitterly, his green eyes hardening at the name of the boy who was supposed to have been his best mate.

"He's still being a prat? I thought he'd come around if given a day or two," Ginny said sympathetically.

"So did I!" Harry burst out, his tone infused with nastiness intended towards the pretty little redhead's brother. "I didn't put my name in that Goblet, Ginny, I really didn't," he added adamantly.

"I know," she said simply, leaning her head against the wall and tilting it to survey him with an expression that was hard to read.

Harry seemed at a loss for a response to Ginny's assertion, so he remained silent, lost in the turmoil of his own thoughts.

"You really believe me?" he queried abruptly, snapping Ginny out of her own thoughts.

"Of course," she stated primly, as though the question were ridiculous and the matter had been closed long ago.

To his own surprise, Harry felt a small smile fighting to take over his face. "Thanks, Gin," he whispered, shifting his eyes only to glance fleetingly at her and grin shyly. She smiled back, settling back into the wall.

The silence deepened, lengthened, but neither felt awkward. An unspoken agreement had risen between them, and neither needed to ask if they were friends now, because both knew: Some bond that had formed when Harry had brought her out of the Chamber of Secrets had finally flared, and they held a special understanding.

A sudden shadow loomed, obliterating the warmth and light that had previously flooded the hallway.

"Potter!" the man snapped, sneering down upon his least-favorite student and the youngest member of his least-favorite family.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry growled, scowling and looking anywhere but the teacher staring at himself and Ginny.

"What are you doing inside when all of your...friends -" Snape paused for a moment to revel in the fact that Harry was squirming, uncomfortable with the knowledge that many of his friends didn't believe a word he said currently - "are causing the usual abominable mayhem outside?"

"Nothing," the boy replied malevolently - and truthfully.

Snape glowered.

"And why waste a perfectly good afternoon doing nothing?"

"Well, Professor," Ginny piped up, putting the same amount of loathing into the last three syllables as Harry had, "since we aren't doing anything wrong, I don't see how it's of any consequence."

Harry gave a mental cheer, and had to duck his head to hide a wide grin.

Snape gave an unpleasant grimace, and turned on his heal, calling over his shoulder, "Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Weasley!"

Ginny smirked and sighed, "Oh, well...the look on Snape's face was worth five points."

This time, Harry's smile reached his eyes.

A/N: So there's chapter one! Each chapter will be a different scene of Harry and Ginny's growing friendship, and then possibly romance. Some will probably be based on fan art, 'cause I've already had a few ideas along those lines. :) Hope you enjoyed, and please review!

~PhoenixFlameGinny67