The World Stopped

The first rays of the morning sunlight reflected off the blanket of freshly fallen snow, illuminating the ground and sky with their combined beauty. To the west, a few stray stars remained in the sky, slowing, steadily, seemingly blinking out of existence as the sun rose higher. The streets were empty of vehicles, just as the sidewalks were devoid of people, adding to the calm of the early day. Although bare for a couple of months, the trees displayed their glory in a way that cannot be described properly with mere words, for the whiteness of the snow resting upon their many dark branches was so beautiful, especially on Christmas morning, that is was as if the heavens had sugar-coated the world when it had smiled down upon the earth with snow.

Such simply beauty is seldom acknowledged for what it is, oftentimes overlooked by passersby, who seem far too occupied in going about with their daily routines, duties calling, demanding to be fulfilled. Such a dire shame and utter loss it is for those whose hearts and minds are ignorant to natural beauty, which transcends the physical world, penetrating the insides, filling those who truly see beyond what the eyes can, with peace.

A sigh emitted from his mouth, fogging the frosty window. Even though he was watching the world outside as if it had stopped, his heart and mind were not at ease, for he would not allow himself to be so. The house was quiet, but the silent solitude would not endure much longer.

Harry looked away from the window, now focusing on his best friend's sleeping form in the rumpled bed across the room. Soft snores came from that corner, which brought a small smile to Harry's young face. Here he was, surrounded by everyone who had become an important part of his life, but yet, something felt out of place.

Turning his attention back to the window, Harry did not hear Ginny as she entered the room and padded across the dusty floorboards.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," came her gentle voice. "What are you doing?"

Still gazing out the window, a small, sad smile formed across Harry's face. "Happy Christmas, Ginny," he murmured.

When he did not say anything further, Ginny gingerly took a seat beside him on the window's wide ledge. She, too, looked out the window. After a few moments of silence had passed, Ginny's curiosity, or perhaps it was more concern, overwhelmed her, and she asked, "What are you looking at, Harry?"

"I... I don't know," he replied quietly. "Er, nothing, I guess."

For Harry, the more suitable question was "What are you looking for?" Without saying anything, Ginny's hand entwined with Harry's, and she gently squeezed his cold hand with her warm one.

"You're so cold," she remarked. "Harry, please, come away from the window."

"I'm fine," Harry insisted.

Ginny regarded him skepically and said in a voice very akin to her mother's, "Now, you listen to me, Harry. I won't be hearing any of that. What's the matter?"

Finally, Harry removed his eyes from the window and faced Ginny. In his green eyes was such a desperation that Ginny felt scared for a moment. She knew Harry was an intense person, but what she saw in his eyes at that moment in time was more than she had been expecting.

"What do you suppose he's doing right this very instant?" Harry asked.

"Who?" Ginny asked, truly vexed, her brow creased.

"Voldemort."

"Oh," she hesitated, shuddering at the name. "Oh... well... I don't honestly know, Harry."

"Do you think he's ruining another family as we speak, killing more innocent people, tormenting their children or parents? Do you think he's getting pleasure out of it? I do, Ginny; I do."

Harry was entirely serious, and his face seemed set in stone, immovable.

"Harry-"

"No, Ginny. Don't bother. I learned a long time ago what loss feels like, and as the time draws nearer to that day when all the world will expect me to defeat him, I can't help but to think about all the lives he's ruined. At Christmas time, when people are supposed to be thankful for loved ones and happy in their company, how can they just forget the losses they've suffered as well? They can't, Ginny."

"You're absolutely right, Harry," Ginny sighed heavily, "but don't you go forgetting everything you've gained, too. In a few minutes, we'll both be downstairs, surrounded by everyone we love and who love us. We're all together."

"Yes, I know," Harry whispered softly. "Sometimes, I guess I just get to thinking, you know, about all the years I had to spend with my relatives while growing up, never knowing my parents, and then I finally find out the truth, but that doesn't make the loss any less. If anything, it's grown over the years. Growing up is just so strange, Ginny."

He laughed mirthlessly, and when Ginny said nothing, Harry continued, "I used to think when I was a kid that I'd have everything in my life figured out when I was an adult, and now, here I am... nearly an adult, but I feel like I have more questions than I ever did."

"I know what you mean," confessed Ginny. "But there's one question you should know the answer to."

Harry watched as a sneaky smile appeared on her face, and he ventured, "Oh? And what's that?"

Bringing her lips to his, Ginny kissed him longingly and deeply. Almost instantly, they each had their arms around each other, and when the kiss ended, they were still locked in an embrace.

"You are loved," Ginny simply said.

Harry smiled as Ginny rested her head on his chest, and together, they gazed out the window, enjoying each other's company and the amazing view in front of them. Perhaps, if only for a little while, the world truly had stopped that morning.