Harry's Grief - 3

"You could always use a Silencing Charm," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"I have," Harry said, sighing, "but I'm afraid of missing something important."

Ginny nodded gravely. "Okay. We'll have to see if we can do something about that, then."

She sat on the couch beside him, and he immediately turned to press his back against her chest, leaning back between her legs and using her like a pillow. He wanted comfort.

That, at least, was something she could do. Wrapping her arms around him, she reclined against the arm of the couch, snuggling down and enjoying the heat from the fire on her face.

"He taught me how to cast a Patronus, did you know that?" he asked softly.

She did know, but she suspected he wasn't really looking to have a conversation – he just needed to talk.

"He came to a couple of the Quidditch matches in my third year. He was there when we won the Cup," he whispered.

She kissed his head, pulling him tighter to her. He made several soft, barely audible sniffling sounds, and she suspected he was crying. She supposed it was easier for him to keep his face turned away from her. She didn't speak, but gently caressed his arm and back, offering what comfort she could. Harry so rarely allowed himself to release his emotions; she thought a good cry was exactly what he needed.

She felt his breath hitch before the dam finally broke, and he began to sob in earnest. She held him tightly, whispering soothing, nonsensical words in his ear and keeping her face pressed close to his head. Several splashes of warm liquid hit her hand as he finally released his grief, clinging to her. He seemed to want the physical comfort.

She'd been surprised to learn how affectionate Harry could be. It was something she'd never suspected of him before they started dating. While they'd been in Albania, she'd particularly noticed how much he enjoyed holding hands, touching her face, or any simple caress she'd give him. She supposed it was all new to him. She didn't imagine that his horrible family had ever bothered showing him much affection.

That thought, combined with Harry's obvious delight from her touch, had made Ginny want to touch him all the more. Of course, the supreme satisfaction of knowing she was the one having that effect on him didn't hurt, either. She'd purposely brush her fingers to his when she handed him something, or swipe her hand along his shoulders when she left or entered a room, and he always responded to it.

Thinking of that now, Ginny gently ran her fingers through his untidy hair, wrapping the ends around her fingers. Harry leaned his head into her touch, his breathing finally becoming deep and regular. He'd fallen asleep quicker than she'd thought he would. Wondering if she should leave him on the couch or attempt to levitate him up to his bed, she heard the portrait hole open.

Peering over the back of the couch, she saw Draco and Pansy tiptoeing inside.

"It's clear," Draco hissed through his teeth. "They must have all gone to bed already."

"Thank Merlin for small favors," Pansy whispered.

Ginny ducked so they couldn't see her, dragging her hand across her eyes and cocking her head to listen.

"So," Pansy purred, "what would you like to do since we have this big room all to ourselves?"

It was all Ginny could do to suppress a gag.

"Knock it off, Pansy," Draco said, his voice surprisingly harsh. "That's not going to work this time. I want to know where you were."