She was standing on a raised dais, dressed all in white. Below the dais, people were waiting, looking at her expectantly. There were flowers, and music. Her wedding day. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. And yet, at this moment, she couldn't even remember who she was marrying. To her surprise, she found she didn't care, even though she expected him to walk in at any moment.
As she looked around, taking it all in, her eyes fell on him. It could only be him, with that messy black hair and those green eyes. Eyes that had always seemed to reach into her very soul. For years, anything he asked of her, she would have done, gladly. But he had never asked. And now she was going to marry another man. She couldn't believe she had given up on him. Hadn't she always been waiting?
As she watched him, he suddenly looked at her-and then just as suddenly looked away, as if afraid to meet her gaze. No, she thought, don't turn away. Look at me. She continued to stare at him, daring him to make eye contact. She knew he could feel her gaze, calling to him through the crowded room. He glanced at her once-twice-he looked deep into her eyes. Something passed between them. Something she couldn't quite name. She just knew. She had always known. But now she knew that he felt it too. After all this time, he finally knew-they belonged together. How had she even thought about getting married to someone else? She knew now that it had all been a terrible mistake. It was lucky she realized it now, before the marriage had actually taken place-because she would have gone to him anyway. She couldn't help herself.
She didn't know how she got there. She only knew that she was standing shoulder to shoulder with him, tears blurring her vision. She could hear voices around her-"Dear, what are you doing?" "No, honey, this isn't right-" "You're getting married-" "Young lady, you get over here right now!" She didn't care. The day she had waited for, the day she had given up hope in, was finally here. She tuned out the comments, which were growing more and more vehement, and focused her attention instead on the young man standing next to her.
Their hands reached for each other. The first touch-just a brush of fingers-sent shivers down her spine. Startled, she pulled away, and so did he. But the longing compelled her hand, and she reached out again. Another touch, this one longer, then another withdrawal, this one a bit more reluctant. After so many years of uneasy friendship, it was difficult for both of them to take this next step.
Trembling, she reached out her hand again-this time, there was no hesitation. Fingers intertwined, they stood, both sobbing. Not a word was spoken. She knew he could tell what she was thinking, because she also knew his thoughts. I just never want him to let go, she thought. And she knew that he had no intention of doing so. Everything was perfect, everything was right.
She could finally share everything with him, help to carry his burden. The joy springing up in her soul threatened to overwhelm her. He turned to face her, looking deeply into her eyes, and took her other hand in his. They leaned closer, caught up in the moment. Harry. . .
And then she woke up. Sobbing and trembling, Ginny climbed from her four-poster bed and made her way down to the Gryffindor common room, so she wouldn't disturb her roommates. That dream had been so vivid, so real. She could almost feel the weight of Harry's hand in hers, and the longing for that touch made her sob all the more. It wasn't enough that he was never far from her thoughts during the day; he also haunted her nights. She dreamed of him often-almost every night-but they seldom affected her like this. The seeming reality of her dream made her present loneliness all the more unbearable.
Oh, Harry, will you ever see? Or will I spend my whole life in this hopeless love? Reeling from the hope and despair her dream had caused, Ginny curled up in an armchair by the fire, and gave herself up to her tears.
Upstairs, in the boys' dormitory, Harry Potter suddenly awoke. His dream, so clear a moment ago, was fading now-but it seemed to him that he had been holding Ginny's hand.
She had looked beautiful-all in white, like a bride. And she had been crying. So had he. With a jolt, he realized that he could still hear her crying. You're hallucinating, he thought. Go back to sleep. Holding on to the peace he had felt as he held Ginny's hand, he fell back into a deep slumber.
When he woke the next morning, he couldn't remember the dream, but the peace still lingered.