Really, what was he thinking?
Grinning ruefully to himself, Harry could admit that maybe under different circumstances, he’d be doing a lot more than grinning right now, considering he was under his father’s invisibility cloak, wandering the castle after hours with a lovely witch in his arms, forgetting that he had a doomed destiny looming above his head, but that hardly mattered at the moment.
For the witch wasn’t exactly in his arms, rather she was dragging him by his arm to some room in the sixth floor corridor she claimed she discovered and wanted to show him. An hour ago she had all but hauled him to his feet from his comfortable place on the couch, but when it came to her, he really didn’t need all that much convincing.
“Harry,” sang Ginny, skipping happily to where he sat by the fire, right next to Ron, who had Hermione sat on his other side. Her wild hair was loose and she left it swaying behind her, “I want to show you something!”
He looked up at her voice, glasses askew, “Which professor’s quarters are we ransacking now?”
Hermione tittered in disapproval, shooting them both a nasty look over her parchment, “How you two got away with that, I don’t even want to know!”
Ginny frowned, ignoring her friend, “We are ransacking no one! You saw one guy with undies and you went green.”
“I didn’t fancy knowing what color his knickers were,” she shot back.
“Well, the man never wears anything other than his black robes, how was I supposed to know that he wears pink and purple boxers?”
“You weren't.”
“Come on! Fine it’ll be a Harry and Ginny only trip then,” Ginny huffed, and with a mighty grunt that Harry thought sounded completely out of place with her delicate lips, she pulled him up and onto his feet. She stole a chocolate frog from Ron before ripping it open and stuffing it in her mouth.
“Go get the map and your cloak, I’ll wait for you down here.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, before pushing him toward his staircase. Vaguely, he heard Ron mutter something about sisters with kleptomaniac tendencies and overly devoted dunderheads for bestfriends.
In a daze, he complied, quickly snatching the aforementioned items that were stowed away in his trunk. He remembered, with a faint blush, the last time they’d use his things. Harry had thrown them haphazardly with his other belongings after narrowly escaping Filch, but even if they did get caught then, he’d happily sit in detention as long as he was with her. How he felt during these two weeks of being with her was something he wanted to be able to feel forever.
Marching back down to the common room, he spotted his girlfriend perched on the arm of the sofa he had been sitting on a few minutes ago. Harry knew she loved to sit there, usually leaning on him.
“Here you go,” he handed her the map, before fluffing the cloak and throwing it over himself until only his head floated.
Ginny muttered the password to the Marauders Map, and Harry took in the gleam in her eyes as they watched it unfold, ink scattering across the layers of parchment.
“Coasts clear,” she said in a rush, “Are you not gonna invite your lovely girlfriend under your tent?”
Harry suppressed a groan, making Ginny laugh quietly before she squeezed herself in with him. Together, they made their way out, and that’s where they were now, headed Merlin knows where.
“Are we there yet?” asked Harry.
“No.” replied Ginny, and they walked some more.
“Are we near yet?”
“No.”
“Do we still have a long way to go?”
“Maybe.”
“We could be doing something entirely different under here and I wouldn’t complain,” Harry commented mildly.
“No.”
Harry harrumphed comically, imitating Dudley’s tantrums when his whale of a cousin doesn’t get an extra helping of turkey. Ginny pinched his side, making him squirm.
“Quit it,” she teased, “I might leave you out here to celibate. Besides, we're here.”
Harry had been too busy staring at the way her hair caught in the light, and the way the glimmering streaks of the moon reflected off of her face. He shook his head and chuckled lowly at her, and only now noticed the door they stood in front of.
The dark oak door was simple and smooth, no indication of importance, aside from the marble doorknob. Harry could have sworn that he’d never seen this door in all his time at Hogwarts, but then again, the Room of Requirement had existed.
Ginny looked sideways before gently extracting herself from the cloak and pushing open the door. Following closely behind her, Harry too, had stepped out of the cloak and was folding it to be set aside.
“Where are we?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“No idea,” Ginny admitted.
The room they were in was square, with high ceilings, dark wood flooring, and a dimly lit chandelier with candles. Perhaps the most glaring thing in the room was how the walls were all mirrors, reflecting them from different angles.
“This might have been a dance hall,” Ginny mused, staring at herself in the mirror in front of her. Harry stood beside her, meeting her eyes in their reflective image, “Did you guys use this during fourth year?”
Their reflection was crystal clear, almost looking misplaced with all the dust and soot that covered the other parts of the room. Harry’s head tilted to the side, brow furrowed, “I don’t think so, well, we could have but I’m sure I wasn’t paying too much attention.”
“Shame, I was really hoping that if it was, the old music player would still be laying about.”
“Ginny…” he warned, “If this is what we’re here for, I can’t dance for shit.”
“A lot of people can’t,” she sniffed, “Ron was a disaster learning as a child too, he was right lucky he didn’t even dance at all, poor Padma, less he embarrasses himself more than his robes already had.”
Harry grinned, stepping closer to wrap an arm around her waist, “Your toes seemed to have recovered well enough to let themselves get trampled on, by Neville this time around.”
“Wasn’t too bad, Ron was a funny dance partner, and Neville was really sweet.”
He squeezed her lightly, “Am I allowed to think myself as both?”
“No,” they heard a soft pop, and Ginny spotted a glint of bronze in the corner of her eye. Moving toward it, she disentangled herself from Harry to place the tip of the turntable on the disk, “But luckily for you, you can redeem yourself right now.”
The soft glow of the hanging candles cast long shadows across the hardwood floor. A classic tune filled the air, not exactly a waltz but something more casual. Harry stood at the center of the room, and Ginny’s eyebrows arched at him in silent question.
"Ready?" Ginny asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Harry, swallowed a bit and nodded, stomping down on the urge to turn the other way.
“You’re gonna have to do most of the work,” he warned but extended his hand, and she placed hers gently while his free arm wrapped around the curve of her back.
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” her other hand snaked its way up to rest idly on the nape of his neck, making him shiver.
“Ron hasn’t showered today?”
Ginny laughed, throwing her head back, “Idiots the both of you,” she muttered tenderly, resting her cheek happily on his shoulder, “Rhetorical question but sure go answer, I wouldn’t make you do anything I knew you couldn’t, Potter.”
“I know,” he tightened his grip on her, laying his nose gently on her hair, taking a whiff of what he’d be smelling all year long down in the dungeons.
“Maybe,” he began, “Hmm, let’s see, I didn’t know I’d be dancing out after curfew, but that hardly counts I’m guessing?”
Ginny pulled back, staring straight at his eyes, ever so green, paling slightly at the dim lights, “You know me so well,” she gushed, fanning her face with his hand still tightly around hers.
Harry hummed, “I kept all the cards you’ve given me over the years.”
“You what?”
As the music swelled, they continued to move. Harry’s heart pounded in his chest, but he focused on Ginny, her disbelieving expression and furrowed brows embolding him. He was leading their steps now, a tentative one right after another, but Ginny’s firm touch steadied him.
Beaming, he raised his glasses up his nose with Ginny’s hand still clasped in his, “Yeah, they’re in a compartment in my trunk, it was cute.”
“You’re crazy,” she groaned, “those were so embarrassing, really, the least I could’ve done was get you one that actually sang and was on pitch.”
“They were just like you,” he sighed, kissing her temple, “absolutely lovely, and adorable.”
Ginny didn’t know if it was her foot or her heart that skipped a beat.
Attempting to tame the flush rising on her cheeks, she jutted her head at his nose, “That was terrible, I think you’re the first person who’s ever stepped foot in the Burrow to call me lovely and adorable.”
“I’ll be the second then, and the third, and the fourth,” he replied, shifting slightly to let go of her hand, enveloping Ginny’s shoulder to pull her flush against him. Her own hands found each other behind him.
“I’m definitely getting you actual good cards now,” she replied, voice muffled by his robes. She appeared to be snuggling closer than humanly possible to him now.
“How many should I expect?”
“One for every occasion,” she murmured, “Maybe a few every couple of weeks. I might be able to get one to do back flips.”
“Are you taking requests?”
“Why?” she leaned back, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Oh you know,” he replied idly, “More singing Valentines? Something about how nice I am this time, eyes excluded.”
She pinched his backside, making him yelp, “I might if you play nice.”
Harry grinned widely, “Easy. No problem.”
They moved in perfect synchronicity, not really going anywhere, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music. Harry felt a sense of peace, a tranquility he'd rarely ever experienced before. With his arms wrapped around her, the world which seemed to grow darker as the days went began to melt away.
"See! You're a natural!”
Harry shot her a look.
“Okay, maybe not, stop being dramatic," Ginny concurred, her breath warm against his neck, “My feet don’t seem like they’re going to bruise so that must be a good sign.”
Harry smiled tenderly at her, "We’re not exactly doing a lot, but whatever you say."
They grew quiet and lost in the moment. Harry and Ginny stayed, holding each other for a long while, their foreheads touching. He himself had never felt more relaxed, falling in the usual easy rhythm that Ginny sets out for him. This moment burned itself into his memory, her smooth hair resting on his arm and the gentle sway of her hips on his hand.
Ginny started to hum along with the tune, occasionally reaching up to kiss his cheek.
“You make me really happy,” Harry blurted, “How about that…did you know that?”
She stayed quiet.
“Sometimes I don’t know exactly how to show it because I’ve never…I have no idea what I’m supposed to do most of the time but with you,” she felt him swallow, “I just instinctively know things, and these past weeks, Merlin Ginny, I don’t know how I was able to feel happiness before you.”
“I’m glad to have been making you happy,” she kissed his lips before settling her head back on his shoulder, “You deserve it more than anyone else in the world. You make me really happy too.”
“But I’m not letting you off the hook, Potter,” she added breezily, “That was extremely cliche. Indulging in Hermione’s romance stash have you?”
Harry let out a breathy laugh. It astounded him how she could go from tender to snippy in seconds.
“No,” he replied mischievously, “I had help from my girlfriend.”
“Thank her for me, will you?”
While Harry wouldn’t have imagined himself ever dancing in the middle of the night, he was certainly glad that he had her to keep him company as they bantered until the sun rose. They left in the early hours of tomorrow, hand in hand, closing the door gently behind them.
Maybe if they squinted enough, or perhaps pulled their eyes away from each other for just a few moments as they danced then, they would see the intricate carvings that nestled in the superior crevices of the mirrors in the dance hall.
‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi’
But then again, a wise wizard once said, that ‘It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.’
And at the time, watching Ginny’s eyes glow with happiness that truly mirrored his own, he’d never felt more alive.