More Than This

‘Your taste still lingers on my lips ,

like I just placed them upon yours,

and I starve, I starve for you . . .’

-Dashboard Confessional-

            The night air was warm. She felt it wrap around her, enveloping her like a blanket. The stars shone brightly in the clear sky. It was perfect.

“So, when did you say Harry was coming?” she asked.

“Gin, for the millionth time, he’ll be here next week,” Ron replied, laughing.

“I was only asking!” she said indignantly. “How much further til we’re home?”

“Not long, Gin,” he assured her.

Sure enough, in a few minutes they were almost there. Inexplicably, Ginny felt a chill run down her spine. Her stomach churned. Something’s wrong. She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Ron, I don’t want to go.” 

“Ginny, don’t be daft. Mum will kill us if we don’t get home soon.” He yanked her by the arm, forcing her feet to move.

As the burrow came into view, she noticed that the sky around it was glowing oddly. Fear gripped her. The color drained from Ron’s face as he saw the figure hovering above the roof, bathing the property in green light.

Ginny awoke with a jolt. She was panting for breath, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly she thought of Malfoy. Part of her wished he was here, to hold her hand as he had done that night in the library. Merlin, Ginny! It’s been a month. Why are you still thinking about that? I’m trying not to! Well, you’re not doing very well, are you? But he was so understanding. It’s a game. A conquest. Malfoy is a jerk. Yes. But . . . That look in his eyes . . .

Ugh! Now I’m arguing with myself. I have to stop thinking about him before I lose my mind.

                                                                        *

            I have to stop thinking of her, Draco ordered himself. He tore his eyes from her, looking down at the table. She’s so close. Only across the hall. It doesn’t matter! Get over it, you prat. Do you see who she is sitting with? He sneered. Yes, she was looking pretty cozy with Potter. It made his blood boil. Yet another thing that should be his had been lost to Potter. Exactly, that’s all she was. A potential triumph. Nothing more. So then why did he feel like part of him was missing?

                                                                        *

“Gin, wake up!”

Ginny bolted upright, her heart pounding. It took a moment for her surroundings to set in, making her feel more at ease. She looked up into Ron’s freckled face.

“Ron, what are you doing in the girl’s dorm?”

“Hermione gave me permission to come and wake you.”

“What time is it?”

“Gin, that doesn’t matter. Do you know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?” she muttered sarcastically. He took no notice.

“It’s Christmas, Ginny! Now get down to the common room so we can open gifts.”

He pulled her into a standing position. He threw her robe to her and left. She rolled her eyes. Happy Christmas.

            A few minutes later, she arrived in the common room, plopping down in front of the fire. Harry was in the chair to her left, Ron sat directly in front of her, and Hermione was stretched out on the floor to her right. In front of her was a small pile of presents. As soon as she was settled, they began tearing into their gifts. She picked up a small box wrapped in silver paper from the center of her stack, turning it over in her hands. There was no name on it. Her heart jumped. Silver. Could it be? She examined it again.

“Ginny!”

She jumped.

“Are you going to open yours or just stare at them?” Ron asked, laughing.

She shoved the box into the pocket of her robe. She would open it later. Just in case . . . She picked up another gift. It was from Harry. She felt her stomach churn. He grinned at her nervously. She carefully tore the paper, taking her time. He bit his lip as he watched the wrapping paper fall to the floor. It was a rectangular box. She opened it slowly. Her breath caught in her throat. She saw a dainty silver chain. And on it hung a tiny heart made of what appeared to be crystal. But as she watched, the crystal swirled with a deep red color. She looked at Harry, who was blushing madly.

“It has a spell cast on it. When I’m thinking of you, it turns red. When it’s really dark, it means that my thoughts are really intense.”

“Wow, thank you. It’s beautiful.” He smiled at her, obviously relieved that she liked it.

She received a color changing quill from Ron and a pack of Tarot cards from Hermione.

"I heard that you’re good at reading them," Hermione explained.

“I’m okay. But I thought you saw Divination as rubbish,” Ginny said.

“Oh, I do. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be fun. As long as it’s not with that old bat Trelawney.”

She opened a book from Charlie. The cover read A Complete Guide to Mythological Creatures.

“That looks absolutely fascinating!” Hermione exclaimed, toying with the bracelet Ron had given her.

Ginny nodded and opened her present from Bill. It was a book of Muggle poetry. Percy had sent a lengthy letter to both her and Ron, asking how they were doing and telling them both how tiring it was to be the Minister of Magic at such a young age. He had taken over after Fudge had been killed.

“Well, I guess Fred and George decided against sending me anything,” she said.

Ron grinned at her and exchanged glances with Harry and Hermione. Suddenly, she heard a soft whimpering noise.

“Did any of you hear that?”

Each of them shrugged. Harry looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. The whimpering grew louder.

“Look, I know you can hear it! Do any of you know what it is?”

They simultaneously shook their heads. She glared at them. She was startled when she felt something warm hit her leg. She looked down and saw a tiny kitten stumbling over her legs. Her face softened. No teenage girl in their right mind could look at a kitten and not be enchanted.

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered. It was solid black and wore a red and gold collar, under which was tucked a folded piece of paper. She picked the kitten up and slid the paper out.

Ginny,

            We thought you might like this better than candy. Might help you feel better. Oh, and please, out of respect for us, don’t give her a fluffy name.

                                                                                                Love,

                                                                                                Fred and George

“So, you’re a girl,” Ginny said, holding the little kitten close to her face. She looked at her friends.

“Do you have any ideas for names that aren’t ‘fluffy’?”

“How about Bludger?” Harry suggested.

She wrinkled her nose. “Harry, that’s not a very good name for a girl.”

“What about Midnight?” Ron said.

“Maybe. But I kind of want an original name.”

“Well, you could always go for something from Shakespeare,” Hermione said.

“Which name, though? Hermia hardly suits her.”

“What about Cleopatra?”

“That sounds good,” Ginny agreed, smiling.

                                                                        *

            Later in the day, Harry and Ron left to play Quidditch. Shortly after, Hermione retreated to the library, leaving Ginny alone. She stared into the common room fire, stroking Cleo, who lay curled up in her lap. This was the first Christmas without mum and dad, she thought sadly. No, don’t think about that. Today is supposed to be happy. She touched the necklace Harry had given her. The heart was as clear as glass. She was suddenly very aware of the small box in her pocket. She hesitated, then took it out.

             She looked around the common room to be sure that no one was watching, then remembered that she was the only one there. She tore the paper off, revealing what looked suspiciously like a ring box. Her heart pounded. Carefully, she opened the box. Inside was a ring of silver, a small red stone set upon it. She looked at it closely, amazed to see that the stone seemed to be alive. Shades of green, gold, and silver danced within it, mingling with the deep crimson. She placed the ring on her finger, and a flood of emotions washed over her. She closed her eyes against it, and an image instantly sprang to her mind. Two hands laced together. She felt the comfort, the confusion, the grief emanating from the two figures. But most of all, she felt the fear. Her fear. Slowly, the image began to fade, and she opened her eyes. The light hurt her eyes. She was trembling. What was that?