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Red

Red.

The horizon was alight with colour--red, gold, orange, purple--the brilliance of the sunset playing out across the sky. It really had been an almost perfect day. The last golden day before... Well, before the journey into the unknown would begin.

Today was the wedding. A celebration. It would have been completely flawless, had it not been for the longing within him. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms. To love her once more. But he knew he couldn't. He had to leave. And he wouldn't put her in any more danger than she was already in.

But flashes of red had caught his eye all day long. Her beautiful red hair, glistening in the sun as she walked down the aisle. A flash of red as she danced with her brothers. A splash of red as she laughed with Hermione. His eyes couldn't help but follow her. He could hear her laughter, feel her touch in his mind. So he watched and was tortured by denying himself the one thing that made him whole. Her cinnamon eyes, catching his own occasionally. He would always look away from her--not wanting her to know he was watching her. Missing her.

And now, the day was done. The sun was setting in all its glory. Its shades of red, like her fiery hair, almost mocking him, trying to tell him not to forget her. How could he ever forget her? His mind was constantly drifting to the red of her hair, to the brown of her eyes, to the sandy freckles on her face. No, he couldn't forget her. But he had to put her out of his mind, to do what had to be done.

Ron and Hermione were going with him. But they wouldn't help him forget. They were now closer than ever, and with that closeness came the reminder that he would be without her. But he wouldn't risk having her there--having her used as a pawn in the game Voldemort played. No, he must do this without her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. A touch so soft that he barely felt it. Even without turning, he knew who it was. He knew he had to keep his resolve. He knew she'd try to convince him to let her go; she'd probably demand it, but he had to be firm. But how could he be firm when he saw that face, those eyes, that crimson-red hair?

"Harry?" she asked quietly. "Can we talk?"

She stood there beside him; her golden robes blowing slightly in the breeze. The light from the setting sun reflected softly off her red hair. It was no longer pulled up, but rather down and across her shoulders. Glancing over at her, his breath hitched. She was stunning--the picture of beauty--of elegance--all wrapped up in one perfect package of gold and red.

"Harry," she began. "I can't let you go without me."

"Ginny, we've been through this," Harry said, looking down at his shoes. He knew if he didn't look at her, he'd keep his resolve.

"Please, just listen to me," she said quietly, looking out at the sunset of red and orange. "I have to go with you. This is my fight, too. He possessed me, Harry, and I want to help get rid of him. I need to help get rid of him."

"I can't have him get to you again, Ginny. It would...destroy me."

"If I stay here, I'm still a target. It doesn't matter where I'm at. If he wants to get to me, he'll try." Looking over at him, she gently tilted his face to look at her. "I want to be with you, fighting Tom, putting an end to all of this."

"I don't know, Ginny..." He tried to not look at her. He felt his resolve crumbling and knew he needed to focus on the sunset. The red and purple on the horizon. But she held onto his face, not letting him turn away.

"Isn't it love that's the weapon against him?" she asked. "Isn't it love that has protected you so far? I love you, Harry; I always have. We can beat him with the love I have for you. I know we can. But, we need to do this together--not apart."

"Your parents..."

"...Will kill me when we get back, but let's deal with that when it's over," she said with an impish smile. A smile he could never resist. "What's the plan?" she asked, simply.

As the sky faded from red and purple to the black of night, he shared with her--the woman who had a fire in her soul as bright and as red as her hair--what he planned to do.

A/N: This was written for the hpgw_otp LiveJournal Community Color Challenge. I'd like to dedicate this story to my lovely beta, aggiebell90, who puts up with me and my rantings, corrects all my errors and is just a lovely person and friend. This is a belated birthday pressie for her ~ my muse hasn't been present for the last month or so, no matter how hard I've tried, and Julie's birthday came and went without me being able to crank something out for her. So, happy belated birthday, sweetie. I hope all your wishes came true! *hugs you* Thanks for all you do for me.