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:¨·.·¨:
You're not sure how she did it. One minute, you were buried under your blanket in the common room, pretending to read the same page for the fourth time, and the next Ginny Weasley was yanking you up by the sleeve with a conspiratorial look.
"C'mon," she whispers, already dragging you toward the portrait hole. "You need some illegal beverages and a few bad decisions."
"I don't think I'm in the mood to--"
"Exactly," she says, cutting you off with a grin over her shoulder. "That's why it's mandatory."
You should say no. You really should. But it's Ginny, and she's glowing the way she always sees to when she's doing something she's not supposed to.
So you follow her.
She leads you through the castle like she was born inside the walls-- looping past sleeping portraits and ducking through shortcuts only the twins should know, quiet as a charm until the two of you emerge into a half-abandoned corridor near the kitchens.
There, tucked behind a tapestry, she pulls out a bottle with a handwritten label and a cork held in by a silver spoon charm.
"Stole it from Slughorn's stash," she says. "Well, Fred did. It's called Gigglewater. Apparently it sparkles. Like, physically. It might also make you confess your darkest secrets and snort mid-sentence. I thought it sounded perfect for us."
You raise an eyebrow. "Us?"
Ginny shrugs, casual. "You've been sad for two weeks, and I've missed your laugh."
She doesn't press, which you're thankful for. She plops down on the floor with her back against the wall and pats the spot beside her. Only once you sit does she uncork the bottle with a fizz and a shimmer. She hands it to you, and you take a swig.
It tastes like sugar and the promise of relief from the hole you've dug yourself into.
Five minutes later, you're giggling into your sleeve about something Ginny said about Flitwick's hair being a sentient creature. Ten minutes after that, your head is tipped against her shoulder and the stars are blurry from the tears you've already half-forgotten.
You're not sure when the laughter faded.
Well, it didn't fade entirely. It simply softened. Like the night exhaled.
The bottle sits between you now, half-empty and still sparkling in the candlelight Ginny had conjured. You can feel the warmth of her shoulder against yours, steady and unbothered, like she plans to stay here all night.
You didn't realize how much you missed feeling steady until now.
Ginny tilts her head to look at you, her grin still lingering. "Feeling better?"
You nod, though it's slow and slightly dazed. "Yeah."
She bumps your shoulder gently. "Told you. Nothing fixes a shattered heart like mildly illegal activities and my excellent company/"
You huff a laugh through your nose. "You're not even going to ask what happened?"
"Nah," she says easily, leaning her head back against the wall. "You'll tell me if you want to. Either way, I'll be here the next time you need smuggled drinks and chaos."
You stare at her, letting the moment stretch. The candlelight flickers across her freckles, catching in the curve of her smile and the red of her hair. Something about her just... glows.
She looks like the memory you'll keep from this year. The one that would always come first when someone asks what it felt like to be sixteen.
"You're beautiful," you whisper, your lips moving before your brain can catch up.
Ginny lifts her head to look at you. "What?"
You don't look away. You can't. "Just... you. Like this. I think this is the first time I've felt okay in months. And it's because of you."
Her lips part, surprise softening into a warm smile. She reaches out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
"You've always been okay," she says. "You just forgot for a bit."
Your throat tightens. "And what if I forget again?"
She smiles. "Then I'll remind you."
She says it like a promise. Like it's certain and it won't ever change. You watch her fingers fall back to her lap. Your heart thuds in your chest, and you feel something settle in your chest that's odd but not unwelcome.
"Ginny."
She looks at you again and, for a second, the castle didn't exist. There's no ghosts in the corridors. No letters from home. No aching where someone used to be.
Just her.
Just you.
Just this.
"I think I might..." You trail off, afraid to finish the sentence.
Ginny leans in slightly, not touching, but close. "You might what?"
You swallow.
"I think I might like you," you say, your voice barely audible. "Like that."
Ginny doesn't react at first. She simply blinks, then tilts her head. Then, finally, she smiles in that sideways way of hers that makes everything feel easier.
"Yeah," she says like she'd been waiting to hear it. "I know."
Your breath catches. "You know?"
"Well, I was hoping. But you also look at me like you wanna memorize me sometimes." She nudges your knee with hers. "It's kind of flattering."
You don't know what to say to that, so you laugh. Really laugh. Bright and startled and very much you.
Ginny grins. "There is is again."
"What?"
"Your laugh." She leans back against the stone wall, triumphant. "Best sound in the world."
"You're ridiculous," you snort, but you don't stop smiling.
She bumps your shoulder into yours again. "Yeah, but I'm your ridiculous."
You don't say anything. You just rest your head on her shoulder. And this time, she rests her head on yours, too.
The sparkle in the bottle flickers once, then fizzles out.
