This Kiss

They're having a ball in two weeks, the teachers announce. To celebrate the death of Voldemort, the end of the war. That's what they say, anyway, but you know the truth. It's to celebrate Harry. Harry's triumph.

Never mind the fact that he didn't do it alone. Never mind that even in the end, he didn't stand alone. It was Harry's battle, yes, but it was never just his. You were there, and so was she, and so was Dumbledore and Black and Lupin and hell, even Snape was there at the end.

Not that Harry wants it to be about him. He's gracious about it. When the party planners - because the teachers had hired party planners, who knows why - ask him to pose for the pictures they want to put on banners all around the Hall, he asks them to put Dumbledore's face on instead. That's good of him, to turn this into a recognition of Dumbledore, who is, though nobody says it, dying.

So it is to be a ball, and they announce a Hogsmeade weekend so everyone can buy dress robes, and you think of what she said back in fourth year, that next time you should ask her before someone else does, and not as a last resort.

But you figure Harry will ask her first, because he needs a date more than you do. It is his night, after all. But Harry goes and asks Ginny, because, he tells you, he doesn't want to have to deal with a girl saying no. You can't think of a girl who would say no to Harry, but you just shrug.

So you ask her, just, "Want to go with me, then?" And she says sure, with a tired edge to her voice, because she's always tired nowadays; for that matter, so are you.

So you go to Hogsmeade and you buy dress robes. Well, Harry buys them for you, but you insist you're going to pay him back. You're going to work for Fred and George this summer, and you'll make it pretty quick. They're navy blue, simple cut, and long enough. They look okay, you guess.

Ginny squints up at you as you try them on. They're nice, she pronounces, and then demands to know what kind of shoes you've got and what you're going to do with your hair. You hadn't actually thought about that.

Harry buys green, like always. Ginny gets sparkly lavender robes, but you insist she pick the style with a higher neckline. You trust Harry, but that's no excuse to let your sister dress like a scarlet woman. Ginny gets her to buy them, because it would be improper for Harry to buy them. She gets new robes too, but Ginny won't let her show them to you.

The ball comes and you're not too excited. You've filled up your excitement quota for the time being - if there's anything you've learned, it's that excitement isn't necessarily a good thing. You sleep late and play chess with Harry until Lavender and Parvati demand you get ready. They're not going to let you look bad at a ball in your honor. They direct this comment to both of you, and Parvati grabs your arm while Lavender grabs Harry, but you know tonight isn't about you. It's just Harry.

You and Harry have arranged to meet your Housemates in the common room and all go down together. Safety in numbers. Ginny looks beautiful with tiny white flowers woven through her hair. Harry hardly seems to notice. You could kick him.

And then she walks down the stairs. She... she looks like nothing you've ever seen. When she walks down the stairs, you feel like your knees might give out. Her robes are navy blue and look like they're knitted from yarn, with sparkles, and they hug her in all the right places. She's filled out again, from being thin to the point of gaunt with worry for so long, and the circles under her eyes have disappeared. Her hair is down her back in loose waves and it's sparkly like her robes. She's got sparkles on her cheekbones too, and it makes her face look leaner, less round, and she's got red lips and smoky eyes and oh... you wipe your hands on your robes. She's your best friend. Just your best friend.

As balls go, this one's not too bad. Better then the Yule Ball in fourth year, anyway. The food is good, naturally, and the Weird Sisters are back. Ministry officials are there too, and all the people who were at the top of the organization against Voldemort. It's a happy night, but there's an element of sadness to it, because the price of victory was so high. She's not the only one who charmed away the undereye circles for the night.

After dinner, there's awards and speeches. Harry gets every award the Ministry has to offer, and a few new ones they've created for the occasion. You get a few awards too, and so does she, and so does almost everyone who deserves one, and then Harry stammers through a presentation of an award to Dumbledore, and you wince as Harry has to help Dumbledore stand to receive it. Dumbledore seems so fragile, as if a strong gust of wind might blow him over. The power he once radiated is slowly leaking away, and it pains you to think that if you met him today, you would be skeptical about his being the most powerful wizard in the world.

After the awards, she wants to dance. You moan and complain, because it makes things feel like almost normal, and she bodily drags you onto the floor. You're more nervous than you ought to be. You're worried about your breath and stepping on her feet and does your hair look stupid.

The Weird Sisters strike up a slow song. She takes your arms and puts them around her waist, scooting closer to you while wrapping her arms around your neck. You're slow dancing now.

It's stuffy in the Hall, sweaty and hot with the dense heat of bodies pressed close together and too many girls with perfume. It's quieter too, as if the whole room was holding its breath to hear this song, this beautiful sad haunting song. She looks up at you - she has to tilt her head far back to meet your eyes - and just looks. She doesn't say anything, but she's looking at you and you don't know what she's seeing but you feel like you've never seen her before, never really seen her, because she looks different now. Different how, you can't say. But good different.

And then she's on her tiptoes and kissing you. And then the whole world shrinks and the dense heat is generated by just the two of you now, and the sounds of rustling robes and sad sad songs fade out and it's just your heart beating and her heart beating and soft sound of little breaths around kissing. You close your eyes and this is all there is, you and she and this kiss.

She breaks the kiss, backing up enough to look at you again. Your arms are still locked around her waist and you don't think you have the coordination at the moment to let her go. You can feel her chest pressed up against yours and you're wondering what the hell just happened. You're disoriented, and for a moment you can't remember where you are. It takes a second for you to realize you're dancing in the middle of the Great Hall, surrounded by other people.

"Um," she breathes. She's blushing a bit now, underneath the sparkles, and she looks down, her lashes shielding her eyes. The demure look doesn't suit her, never has, and normally you don't like it when she does this, gets all soft and shy because it isn't her, she's loud and daring and in-your-face and you want to demand an explanation for what just happened.

But you don't. You just turn red and repeat, "Um."

She looks away. "Sorry," she whispers.

You look at her again, and timidly, she meets your eyes. You can see her undereye circles coming back, bluish purple smears creeping their way back onto her face. Her makeup is starting to cake and the sparkles on her dress have almost all come off.

She's beautiful, you think. This is how you like her the most - not all dressed up, but natural, herself. She's been your friend, your best friend, for so long and now you're starting to understand. Why you're always fighting, why everyone insists you look so good together. Why a million things. And now all you want is to kiss her again.

"Sorry for what?"

She blinks. And you take advantage of her momentary lapse of concentration to kiss her again.

"Is this okay?" you whisper against her lips, feeling like all the air has gone out of your body.

She nods. "More than."

You kiss her again, softly. The world fades out again, and it is just you and her and this now.

Just you and her this always.