Familiar

Ginny couldn't remember when Harry had become familiar. Maybe it was when they didn't laugh as much, and Hermione and Ron were less intrusive. Maybe it was when she comforted him late at night, when they both couldn't sleep and complained of headaches; headaches so horrible thinking was a strain. But suddenly he was familiar. She remembered a time when she ran from him, afraid of her own insecurities. When she'd cried herself to sleep because he wasn't there and looked right through her. There'd been Michael and Dean, and some others that had been swept under the rug of memory. They'd both strayed from that route, choosing instead quiet contemplation and inside jokes. She remembered one day someone asked Harry if she was his girlfriend. He didn't answer either way, and seldom denied her presence. She grew irritated with her friends, with their quiet insinuations and laughter. A few of her friends congratulated her, but she found it offensive since congratulations usually followed a victory. Sharing meals and quiet time became a natural pastime for the two of them, and she didn't waste time worrying about the future. She remembered one day in the corridor he'd grabbed her hand, as if holding on for dear life. The action had surprised her a little, but she hadn't pulled away. She sensed somehow the world was about to be thrown into chaos. Indefinite clues had forewarned her, and she told Harry of her fears because she knew he wouldn't laugh. She remembered that day she'd gotten a letter, written in a rapid scrawl and had cried for weeks. He'd held her closely, not trying to comfort her verbally. Her friends had taken to talking to her quietly, as if she were on death's doorstep. She'd worn her black cloak to the funeral with the red pin her father had given her when she was a child. Harry had been there, standing by her side the entire time. She remembered how her hand had stung after she'd slapped Percy, who had made his first appearance in months. Ron had looked like a ghost to her after that day, and Hermione refused to leave his side.

She asked Harry one day if she was different, but he only shrugged and said everything he'd known had changed. She noticed how everything familiar in her world looked different, as if she viewed the world through distorted glasses. She clung to Harry desperately, knowing her loss brought them closer together. Soon it felt as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to spend every waking moment together, and her friends quit talking. It seemed the whole world knew without a formal declaration. The grounds were covered with icicles and frost when Harry told her he had to leave. She didn't cry, and asked if he would ever return. He said he didn't know and that promises were silly bargains to make with fate. She smiled and brushed the snow from his hair.

"I'll always remember you like this," she said as they walked to the warmth.