Wishful Thinking

"So, Harry--fancy any girls lately?" Seamus asked casually.

Harry sighed angrily. "Sod off, Seamus."

"Not until I figure out who it is!"

"No!"

It was a regular evening in the Gryffindor common room. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had all finally finished their homework, and were relaxing by the fire until Ron and Hermione had to patrol the corridors later that evening. Relaxing, until Seamus finished his homework as well and proceeded to bug them.

Ginny's heart leapt, half in sadness, half in hope. Whenever the subject of Harry fancying other girls was discussed, she felt utterly humiliated. She had liked him for so many years. About her third year though, she had shook off her old feelings for Harry- or so she thought. But, recently, whenever he was around, her heart would pang sorrowfully. Ginny was completely tired of it, as well. She was swept up in a mixture of denial, infatuation, friendship, logic, which all tried to help reconcile her feelings for him. That was all she wanted. To know how she truly felt.

And maybe...how he felt?

Her heart ached, yet again.

"You know, I think I'm going to go to bed, guys. I'm knocked out," Ginny announced, stretching and attempting to yawn to emphasize her simulated fatigue.

"'Night, Ginny," Ron replied mechanically, gazing into the hearth.

"'Night, Ginny," Hermione replied, in the same automatic tone, absentmindedly petting Crookshanks.

"Sweet dreams, Gin," Harry wished her, sending her a small smile.

She froze in adoration, and her knees trembled slightly. Regrettably, she turned around and plodded towards the spiral staircase.

WHY DOES HE DO THAT? Doesn't he realize it is driving me crazy? It is almost as if I don't want him to like me just so I can move on with my life and quit dwelling on him 24 hours a day! Ginny thought desperately, as she took the stairs two at a time, yearning for her warm bed.

She dropped her body onto the bed with the last angstrom of strength she possessed. Her brain was overwhelmed with these confusion thoughts, clashing and outrageous theories and conceptions, and all of the other complicated and outlandish ideas that occupy a 15 year-old girl's mind, Muggle or Magical.

Her eyes closed immediately, but her mind was still racing.

Ginny grabbed her pillow and roughly shoved it over her ears, as if she was blocking out some boisterous fanfares coming from the corners of her dormitory, rather than the corners of her mind and imagination.

She wanted to solve it once and for all, and stop all of the guessing, misinterpreting, and analyzing obsessively over Harry's every move in case it dropped a clue about how he felt about her. It all made her feel so...childish, and immature.

Ginny wasn't sure how long she laid there, horribly tired but incapable of sleeping, hours most likely. Her frustration was bottled up inside of her, and she needed to get it out. Figuring the majority of the Gryffindor Tower must have returned to their respective dormitories, Ginny tiptoed down the staircase, into the freedom and comfort of the common room.

Thankfully, it was empty; not a soul in sight. Ginny was positive that no one was around that she could see who could hear what she had to say.

She clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

She forced herself that no matter what she said or how emotional she became, she wouldn't be louder than a whisper, so not to wake all of Gryffindor Tower.

"I don't have a crush on him! I don't! He is just a very close friend to me, and that is why I think he is so adorable, and heroic, and clever, and funny, and athletic, and brave, and plain out wonderful. Because he is only a friend," Ginny reassured herself, rather dismally.

"But, what if he doesn't see me as a friend? No, Ginny! He doesn't see you as more than a friend! That is only wishful thinking, only you wanting him to like you. You have to stop this!" she yelled, somehow still in that harsh whisper. Incredibly relieved at the chance to sort this out without interruption, she didn't notice a quiet bang that echoed from the boys' dormitories, reminiscent of a door shutting carefully. Even if she had, there was no one there to see.

"You. Need. To. Move. ON. You need to forget about Harry Potter, and how much he means to you! Just like Hermione kept telling you, over and over and over! He will never see you as anything but his best mate's little sister, never, never, never! So stop pretending!" Ginny thought that she was grateful that no one could hear her, or else they would think she was a lunatic, talking to herself like this.

"Forget about him! Forget him, forget him, FORGET HIM! You could have had such nice relationships with Michael Corner, and Dean Thomas, except that you couldn't let go of Harry, who you match everyone up against! Block him out. Any thoughts that enter your mind even concerning Harry will be kicked out, and never to be retrieved form now on."

Ginny sighed tiredly. She had finally worn herself out, and her energy to vent was draining rapidly.

She dragged herself to the sofa and sank down into its cozy quarters. The fire was dying, but still burning relentlessly.

"It's ironic," Ginny mumbled after some time, "About how the fire's flame keeps burning for all these hours, and when it finally extinguishes itself, people start it back up again. Sounds oddly familiar," she remarked sardonically.

She slouched accordingly and let her head rest of the cushions. She closed her eyes, and sighed deeply.

Ginny fell between being awake, and falling asleep. She was partly conscious of her surroundings, yet oblivious at the same time.

She could feel a heavy weight sink next to her, but she was too tired to add one plus one together. If she had been an ounce more alert and awake, she would have definitely realized that the object of her affection, Harry James Potter, was sitting next to her underneath his precious Invisibility Cloak. He had sneaked downstairs in hopes of catching Ron and Hermione on their safety patrol duties, knowing that they overly enjoyed each other's company.

He watched her breathe for about a minute. Her powerful words clenched his heart as he slowly sink in. She wasn't over him, like Hermione had said. He gave her a small smile, yet her eyes were closed, and she couldn't see it. She looked so helpless, so frustrated, so right. For him. Two over-whelmed and frustrated souls yearning for answers...yep, they fit perfectly.

He wrapped his arms around her and shifted her body so her head was on his shoulder. Even thought he knew she was sleeping and couldn't hear a word he said, he needed to get some things off his chest, too.

Harry sighed tiredly and whispered soothingly, "I do see you more than a friend, Ginny Weasley. Sometimes I even see Ron as your big brother, rather than the other way around, which is hard to believe. I didn't mean to cause you all this internal pain. I was only trying to see if you still liked me in the same way you did before. I really hoped that you did. I didn't want you to give up on me, because, mainly, I didn't want to give up on you."

He squeezed her tenderly. His heart ached as well for her: for her acceptance, her smile, her love.

Ginny bit her lip. She had never fallen asleep, never moved or made a noise since Harry sat beside her. Her heart was beating dangerously quickly, and she was worried stupidly that it might give her away.

Ginny had no idea what to do. Should she pretend she had been asleep, to avoid awkwardness? Or should she look him in the eye?

Was this a test? She thought desperately. Ginny wanted to resist the tantalizing temptation to look at him and kiss him passionately, to prove her strength.

But, more than that, she also wanted to prove her love.

"Harry?" Ginny mumbled intensely as she slowly picked up her head.

"Ginny!" Harry gasped.

"Harry, I--I--"

He pressed his fingers against her lips to quiet her. "Ginny, I know."

She was puzzled, but finally chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

He smiled nervously at her, hoping for final acceptance.

She returned the smile gratefully. They pair cautiously leaned in...

"HARRY?"

"GINNY?"

Ginny and Harry opened their eyes in shock. Simultaneously, their admiring glances broke and moved towards the loud pair who had just walked in the room.

"Uh oh," Harry croaked anxiously. Ron was going to kill him...

"You can say that again. Hermione was going to kill her...

But, to the couple's surprise, Ron and Hermione smiled at each other. Ginny's gaze darted towards the tiny space in between the cheerful pair, to where Ron's fingers were interlaced with hers. They realized this mistake, but a bit too late.

Harry smiled slyly. He knew they fancied each other. Everyone did. It was time Ron and Hermione did as well.

"Well, don't let us interrupt!" Ron encouraged horribly uncharacteristically.

Hermione added, "By all means, continue with what you were doing!"

They stared at them, overflowing with enthusiastic anticipation.

Harry and Ginny exchanged hysterically perplexed expressions.

"Fine, we'll go," Ron sighed disappointedly, and he turned to stomp up the stairs. Hermione rolled her eyes at him lovingly behind his back. She shook her head and gave them a small wave.

"Well, that was interesting," Ginny noted casually. "Now, where were we?"

As Harry and Ginny finally kissed, Ginny thought, And they say wishful thinking doesn't pay off...