By the Lakefront

The soft grass was very comforting. So was the peacefulness of the area. The silence, too. The cool summer breeze was refreshing on his face.

But it wasn't enough.

Harry sat up tiredly and looked at his surroundings, without really looking. He was seated under the beech tree by the lakefront, sulking. And he had a perfect right to. This spot had become a favorite of his. Here, he could think. Or not think, and just convert oxygen to carbon dioxide, which suited him perfectly. Whatever would have helped him out most at the minute, that was it.

He wasn't alone. It was a beautiful day, and many students took advantage of the carefree and celebrating atmosphere to bask in the sun and freedom from exams. His recent escape and manifestation of Lord Voldemort's resurrection was still fresh in the Wizarding world's minds, as well as his, and it probably would be for weeks.

Another thing fresh in his mind, was of course, Sirius' premature death. A deluge of tragic thoughts flowed through Harry's head.

It wasn't his time.

It was my fault. All my fault.

He didn't deserve this.

These repercussions overtook even what Professor Dumbledore said after his adventure in the Department of Mysteries. Partly.

For close to the twentieth time that day, Harry closed his mind, as best as he could, to these thoughts and forbade himself to mull them over. For now. The last thing he wanted to think about was the prophecies dreadful contents.

He lazily dropped his head in his hands.

The memories and over-whelming feelings broke through the barrier.

It's him or me.

I kill him, or he kills me...

The life of every living creature depends on me.

Something was poking him, rather painfully. He lifted his head up immediately; he had been on high alert since his History of Magic O.W.L. that fateful day.

Ginny Weasley was kneeling right in front of him, sporting a melancholic, yet adorable smile.

"Hey Harry," she greeted gently, taking a seat next to him.

"Hey Ginny," he responded automatically.

Ginny noticed his somber tone, and her heart twinged for him painfully. He had been through so much. And now this. Suddenly she felt rather awkward, but pursued her inquiries anyway.

"Um, did you see Ron and Hermione this morning?" she asked casually, stretching out her legs in front of her.

"What? Oh, yea. They're fine," he replied in a monotone, eyes on the shoreline. Mind somewhere else.

"That's good. When do you think they'll be released?"

She strived to keep him talking, or to have him converse about something. So far, she was failing horribly.

"Dunno. Soon," Harry remarked quietly.

"I can't imagine what is going on up there."

She waited for him to smile, or at least see the sides of his mouth twitch. The idea of Ron and Hermione being trapped together alone for several days proposed many amusing ideas. To Ginny, at least.

"I'd bet anything Ron's milking it to keep her company, though," she smirked. "Which is kinda sweet of him, if you can somehow categorize Ron as 'sweet'."

His mind was somewhere else. Ginny knew this, but she didn't take it personally. She had wanted some private time with him. She figured that that is what he needed, someone to talk to and confide in. Someone who had been in a similar predicament. She based her ideas on the only thing she could: what she had needed during her time of turmoil and suffering, her first year.

This was her chance.

She looked at him, while his gaze was still focused on the middle of the lake.

"How are you, Harry?" she inquired concernedly, praying he would at least look at her. Luckily, he did. He still seemed a little spaced out, but it was progress.

He opened his mouth, as if tempted to reply, but then thought better of it.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. Ginny could tell he was getting restless.

"Harry?" Her tone was warm, and soothing.

"You're right, Ginny. I should go visit Ron and Her--"

Harry was in the process of standing up, when an obstinate hand plastered itself to his arm.

"No, Harry," Ginny ordered firmly, staring at him straight in his brilliant green

eyes.

Her defiant gesture took him by surprise. Not pleasantly. His fuse had been short during the past few days. He was halfway standing up.

"Ginny, what are you--"

"Sit down." Her tone was still unusually strong. There was an eerie similarity between the force of Ginny's tone right now, and the force of her mother's tone when she was serious.

"Let me go, Ginny," Harry commanded warningly, outraged at her ferocity.

She glared at him forcefully, and he yanked his arm, attempting to relinquish her

grip.

"Ginny--"

"No, Harry. Sit down. Please," she pleaded. Her tone was strong, yet calm. Harry

suddenly realized that he was too exhausted to fight her, and reluctantly surrendered.

He sighed aggravatedly.

"Please Ginny, don't do this," Harry practically begged, head in his hands again.

"Harry, you need this! Don't try to persuade yourself that you don't--"

"How would you know what I need?" he asked rudely, crossing his arms heatedly.

"Harry, that is the point I'm trying to make! When I was in first year, the one thing I needed the most, even though I was so afraid of it, was to talk to some--"

"How can you compare that to this, Ginny? You have NO IDEA what I am going through--"

She raised her eyebrows resentfully, and her ears were growing red. "'I

have no idea what you are going through'? How can you say that, Harry? I'm just trying to help you out, so maybe you can get this--"

"Ginny--"

She talked over him stubbornly. "OUT OF YOUR system, before you are locked up for the rest of the summer and have no one!"

Harry and Ginny had grown rather loud, unbeknownst to them. Students here and there were watching them with apprehensive expressions on their faces.

Their quarrel ceased for a moment, giving both of them time to gather their thoughts, and composure.

Ginny seemed to deflate a bit. "I know you miss him, Harry. I can't imagine losing someone that close to me--"

"Ginny, please--"

"Harry, I'm only trying to say that I don't want you to alienate yourself from everyone else who still cares about you," she stressed. She comfortingly placed her hand on his arm, hoping it would help.

"There's so many of us. We don't want to lose you now. This is when we need you the most. And especially in the future. Harry, we have to stick together. Nothing else is more important, do you understand that?"

Harry could tell she truly meant everything she was saying. Every syllable and sound was heartfelt and genuine. It touched him.

"We all really care about you," Ginny emphasized.

"Yea. I understand you," he replied quietly, but sincerely.

She smiled nervously, imploring he would return it.

He did.

The increasing tension was at its climax.

They were very close. Very close.

Everything was quiet.

Harry gulped nervously, his mind finally off Sirius and entirely focused on the beautiful redhead only inches from his face.

Ginny inhaled deeply, uncertain what she thought was going to happen would. Should she lean in? Should she--

"There you are, Ginny! I have been looking all over for you," a relieved Dean Thomas exclaimed as he jogged his way over to the beech tree.

The moment broke.

"Hey there, Harry!" he said, bright, cheery, and completely oblivious to what almost occurred.

Dean put his arm around Ginny protectively as she stood up, slightly flustered, looking almost put out.

"Ginny, your friend what's-her-face wanted to know if she could borrow your broom," he informed her.

"Harry, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll see you later, okay?" she asked graciously, replacing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"All right, see you later then."

She waved good-bye as she plodded backwards towards the castle, Dean dragging her behind.

Harry grinned ironically.

She was right. He did feel better. It probably wasn't the way she meant to do it,

but she did it.

That Ginny.