Stars

"We did it!" Hermione squealed, holding Ron's hands and jumping up and down. "We won the House Cup! Oh, I knew it, I knew it!"

"One point!" yelled Ron gleefully, prying his hands loose and pointing to the Slytherin table. "One point, and can you see the look on Malfoy's face!"

Harry joined them in the laughter that swept down the Gryffindor table, spreading infectiously to the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well. Save for the sullen Slytherins and the surly Snape, all of Hogwarts School had reason to be wildly celebrating the victory. The Slytherins, after all, had not won the cup for years, and a triumphant return to top notch would have devastated the Gryffindors and served as yet another reminder that these were dark times.

Ginny sighed softly, the only Gryffindor not wildly celebrating. She glanced up at the ceiling--it was a clear night in June, and the stars shone brightly, twinkling in the velvety blackness of the skies. She pushed her chair away from the table, away from her madly excited friends, away from the divisive line between friend and enemy. She stood up and walked out of the Great Hall, then out of the castle, silent and sure. No one noticed; they were all too busy screaming themselves hoarse.

Outside, the warm summer air caressed Ginny, smothering her thoughts of despair and drowning out the wild cheers. It was as though she was suddenly enveloped in a warm, soft, brand-new cape. She felt comforted and at ease. Relaxing and letting the anguish melt away from her heart, she wandered down to the long grasses beside the lake and lay down to stare enamored at the glinting, icy stars.

The night seemed a foil for her uncommon mood. It soothed her, yet the stars inspired, implored, forced her not to let go.

House competitions are a load of rubbish anyway, she thought savagely, letting the gentle wind cool her hot cheeks and ripple her curling locks. Quidditch matches too, for that. All they do is breed dislike and jealousy, and make us forget all about the important things in life. Real happiness, first love, fighting Tom, for Merlin's sake! Harry escaped him again, sure, but he isn't gone. And until he is, we're not safe. We can't trust. We can't be happy. We can't let the world see our feelings, or who we really are.

"A Knut for your thoughts," asked a familiar drawling voice from behind her. Ginny jumped and sat up guiltily.

"Oh, hello," she laughed, a little embarrassed at being caught out so late and off guard. "You startled me."

"So I see," he smiled, lying down beside her. "Mind if I join you?"

"Oh, no, not at all," she said quickly. "Please, do."

They gazed at the stars for a moment or two before he spoke.

"Congratulations are in order, I suppose. But why did you leave the feast?" he asked, turning his face to her, curiosity plainly written in his cloud-colored eyes.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her knees and returning her eyes to the night sky. "Look at the stars," she breathed. "What do you see?"

Knowing Ginny, he knew that there was a purpose to her request. He looked up again. The air was uncommonly sharp for June, hardly muggy at all, and the stars were breathtakingly clear. Still, of course, not clear enough to really make anything out.

"I need a telescope," he remarked.

She shook her head again, imperatively, tossing her curls attractively. "Not like that," she whispered. "The way, say, a Muggle child would. What do they look like?"

He looked again. Their cold, crystalline light pierced the depths of the endless sky, entrancing him and striking him as more magical than anything Dumbledore or the Dark Lord could perform.

"Diamonds?" he suggested. "No, wait. Shards of ice. Cold and beautiful and untouchable, never, ever melting."

She turned to him then, her face aglow with a light that rivaled that of the heavens. "Exactly. Ice, on the outside. Loads of Muggle children think that, or things like that, for years."

He laughed then. "Shows what Muggles know."

Her expression became hurt. "You saw that, just now."

"Why, yes, I did," he amended hastily. "I certainly did."

"Then, they get older," she continued as though no interruption had taken place. "They stop thinking everything they've thought for years. They're more open-minded. They're ready to know things, ready to accept them. They start to listen when people tell them that impossible things can come true. They learn that the icy stars are really made of fire."

He understood then. He reached out, took her hand, and squeezed it tightly.

"There really is no black or white," she continued. "Two unbelievable things can actually come together. When you're ready to understand, people can tell you, and you can listen, and you can know that there really is no difference, underneath, between fire and ice."

Draco felt his heart pounding inside him. He took her into his arms and kissed her. They stayed that way for a long, long time, never wanting to let go.