A/N: Ginny's point of view proved to be quite the challenge, never mind the Halloween part! Please let me know how I did with Ginny. To my rugged male readers: this is from a girl's point of view, so you will have to suffer the shoe and robe descriptions. Sorry. A huge thank you to Ima Quidditch Fan for the beta read and for the gentle intervention to cure my addiction to dashes. You will see that she was only partially successful!

The Razor's Edge

A dance at Hogwarts in and of itself was an exciting event. A dance preceded by a haunted house was such a rarity that on the second day of school, all of Gryffindor assembled in the common room to plan their haunted rooms. Ron and Hermione, as sixth year prefects, were conducting the meeting. Actually, Ginny thought with some amusement, Hermione was conducting it and Ron was occasionally inserting a comment here and there.

Ginny's glanced to her left at Harry, sitting with his dorm mates. He was listening like the rest of the students, but the way he was slouched in the chair told Ginny that he wasn't remotely interested in contributing to the glory of Gryffindor by creating a haunted room. No, Harry looked almost . . . disapproving.

Hermione was writing suggestions in mid-air as the brainstorming session continued.

What about a graveyard?"

"Been there," she heard Harry mutter.

"Fight a Basilisk?"

"Done that," he said under his breath. Seamus snickered.

"Answer riddles from a Sphinx?"

"Got the t-shirt." He was wearing a faded Tri-wizard tournament t-shirt.

"What a prat." Ginny heard one fourth year girl say to her friend.

"Yeah, great Harry Potter. Everyone knows he's a show off risk-taker. Not everyone likes to go on mid-night raids to the Ministry."

Ginny could feel her anger mount - at Harry for being so obviously rude - and at the fourth years who just didn't have a clue.

She shifted in her chair, and heaved a sigh. It must have been louder than she thought, because Harry immediately turned and looked into her disgruntled face. He gave her the ghost of a smile. Probably because he thinks I'm feeling the same way he does about this haunted house thing, Ginny thought sardonically. But, if she was going to be honest with herself, she did think it was kind of silly to manufacture fear, when there was so much of it in the real world.

Harry turned his attention back to the meeting and so did Ginny.

"It would be impossible to create a room everyone is frightened of because everyone has different fears," Ron pointed out.

"Muggle psychologists have discovered that an innate fear that even babies possess is the fear of falling." Hermione mused out loud. "The experiment they used was to have babies crawl to their mothers over a bridge, but the bridge was clear so that they could see below them. None of the babies would go over that bridge."

"Oh, that's a great idea!" Lavender Brown said. "We can conjure an invisible bridge that everyone has to find to get across the top of our room."

"But we can't have people actually falling," Hermione pointed out.

"We could set trip switches," Ron began slowly.

"Yes!" Hermione jumped in. "If they stray off of the invisible bridge, the walls will start to move vertically."

"You mean - like an optical illusion?" Dean asked.

"Yes! If the person sees the walls rushing by, then they will think they are falling."

Everyone began talking excitedly about this idea. After a quick vote, the bridge idea, dubbed "The Razor's Edge" was approved. Fifteen minutes later it was decided that the other room would be a graveyard, since they all agreed that death was a fairly universal fear as well. Volunteers and duties were arranged before Hermione adjourned the meeting.

Ginny didn't volunteer for anything since this was her O.W.L. year, and she was playing Quidditch. Since her correspondence with Dean had fizzled out over the summer, she hadn't thought about romance or dating. Now that a dance was coming up, she supposed she'd have to start thinking about prospects. The first name that came to mind, was the last name she wanted to consider . . .

Giving herself a mental shake, she stood up and stretched, noticing that the common room had emptied while she was daydreaming. Harry had left as well. She shook herself again; she thought she had cured herself of always knowing where he was. But this year she couldn't seem to shut off that Sneakascope that only detected him.

She absently started pushing the chairs back to their places at the tables. Ron and Hermione were straightening the other end of the common room, talking as they went. The sound of their voices dimly registered, but Ginny was too lost in her own thoughts to pay much attention to her surroundings, which is why she backed right into Harry as she wrestled a heavy armchair into place.

For a brief moment she felt the warmth of his body against her back. "Oops," he said. More shaken than she should have been, Ginny turned around. "I didn't see you . . ."

"Because I was behind you," he pointed out. He wasn't smiling but his eyes were sparkling.

Those eyes. Ginny had to use all of her will power to fight the impulse to just stand there and stare at him. Instead she asked lightly, "Should we tie a bell around your neck?"

"I don't think you would have heard a bell, you were too lost in thought."

"Was I?" she murmured not really thinking about their conversation, because it wasn't very often she had his undivided attention. Always there was something going on behind those eyes - usually having nothing to do with her. But lately...

"So what's made you all wooly-minded?"

He was actually trying to draw her out. Incredibly, Harry who had been so self-centered for so long was reaching out the hand of friendship, and she didn't know why.

Then she heard Hermione giggle. Ron was laughing, holding something high over his head. Hermione was trying to get it away from him by tickling him around the waist. "I know there's a spot," she said, her cheeks flushed. "Found it," she exclaimed as Ron doubled over laughing.

Maybe that was it. He was staying out of Ron and Hermione's way. He had done a lot of that at the Burrow too. Since Fred and George were always at work, Ginny was the only one left for him to hang around with. That must be it, she thought.

"Ginny?"

"Hmm?" He was still watching her carefully, with a small frown that made two vertical furrows right between his eyes. She wanted to smooth them away. "Oh, I was just thinking about..."

He interrupted her. "This haunted house thing. Do you think it's ridiculous?"

"Ridiculous? No. I think it will be good for everyone to have some fun, even if there is a war," she said pointedly.

"Yeah, I suppose." He ran his hand through his hair. "I reckon I was a right prat during that meeting."

"Yes," she agreed.

He studied his shoes.

"But I don't blame you really," she hastened to add. " I'm sure it's all kid stuff to you."

"No, that's not it... "he said, slowly. "It's the dance afterwards."

"What's wrong with a dance afterwards?" she asked.

"Because in real life - after the danger is over - you just can't forget, and have a happy ending," he answered, finally looking at her.

Something twisted inside. Half of her wanted to weep in sympathy, and the other half wanted to tell him off him for being so negative. She chose telling him off. "Harry, listen to me." Impulsively, she put her hand on his arm. He went very still, like he always did when she casually touched him. But this time his eyes looked greener . . .

"I went through a terrible experience my first year."

Something flashed in his eyes at her words, but Ginny continued, heedless of his reaction. "I could have wallowed in the guilt; I could have stayed away from people because one person hurt me. But I didn't. I wanted a happy ending. Don't you think I deserve a happy ending?"

For the first time he touched her back, gripping her arms. "Of course you do! You didn't do anything to deserve all that."

"What makes you think you deserve everything that's happened to you? You deserve a happy ending too," she stated, looking steadily into his eyes.

His shoulders dropped, and his hands slacken their grip on her arms. She had reached him.

"But - " He hestitated. "Do you think it's possible?"

"Of course it's possible!" she exploded. "Anything is possible, but it isn't if you can't even imagine it! You have to change your thinking, Harry."

"Ok," he said looking at her warily.

This made her smile. How Harry could possibly be afraid of her little tirades?

He shook his head. "You'd think I'd know by now that you're not going to let me feel sorry for myself."

She laughed in relief, glad that he wasn't offended by her plain speaking. "And they say that Hermione is the smart one."

He caught her mood. "And so who do they say is the pretty one?"

She loved when he threw out something to see what she would say. Happiness welled inside of her. "Me, of course," she said blithely, before she had a chance to stop herself.

He smiled with a glint in his eye. "They would be right."

She felt the color rise unbidden into her face. He couldn't be complimenting her; he just couldn't . . . .

He seemed to sense her unease, because he touched her on the arm and said, "Come on, it's almost time to eat."

As they walked side by side to the Great Hall, Ginny realized that she didn't always believe in happy endings either. If she were honest with herself, she knew her greatest fear was falling. Falling off the razor's edge - into love - with him - all over again.

"Ginny, those robes are gorgeous. That color reminds me of the sea - kind of an alternating green and blue," Hermione said, as she caressed the folds of the silky fabric. They were in Ginny's dormitory the following afternoon assessing their wardrobes for the upcoming Halloween dance.

"It was a sample size from Madam Malkin's," Ginny explained. "There was only one, and it happened to fit me."

"Not too many people can wear that color," Hermione said, "but with your red hair it's perfect."

Ginny smiled. Usually her hair wasn't an asset.

"I can't believe you're going to wear red," she remarked to Hermione.

"It's not really red, the saleslady called it cherry." Hermione held it against her body, and then she giggled. "I'll be a regular scarlet woman!"

Ginny began to pack her gown back into the box. "So are you going alone?"

"No."

Ginny looked up from the tissue paper wrappings. "Who?"

Hermione blushed. "It's not what you think."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"I'm going with Ron, but since we're both prefects it seems like a good idea to go together since we'll have duties anyway." Hermione shook out her robes.

"Right." Ginny tried to hide her smile.

"Oh, I knew you would take it the wrong way!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Me? I'm not taking it the wrong way" Her eyes were wide. "You're going together as prefects. Right?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Right."

"All right then." Ginny nodded to close the subject. Somehow she thought there was a little more going on between Ron and Hermione.

Hermione was now folding her robes carefully on the bed. "What about you, Ginny? Aren't you going with anybody?"

"Since I'm not a prefect? No." Ginny couldn't resist teasing her a bit.

"Has anyone asked you?" Hermione asked, looking up from her task.

"No." She didn't tell Hermione that two Gryffindors had made inquiries through her friends, but Ginny had put them off before they had a chance to ask. She didn't know why exactly; in the forefront of her mind the O.W.L.s were her excuse for avoiding any entanglements, in the back of her mind, she had other excuses.

Hermione was studying her in a way that made Ginny nervous. "Ginny, you're still over Harry aren't you?" she asked with a frown.

"What? Of course," Ginny lied.

"It's just -"Hermione sat on the edge of the bed. "You two spent a lot of time together this summer - "

"You spent a lot of time with Harry too," Ginny pointed out. "And with Ron."

"Yes, but-"She searched Ginny's face. "You and Harry really seem to get along. Ron always said - "

"Ron always said what?" Ginny asked, her temper rising. If Ron were speculating behind her back she would hex him into next Tuesday.

"That you and Harry had a lot in common. I didn't really see it until last year." She cocked her head. "I always forget what you went through your first year."

"Don't feel bad, Hermione," she retorted, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice, "Harry forgot too. You were petrified; I can excuse you. But he was there, for heaven's sake."

"Don't you think that is a good thing - really? That Harry never connected you with something so traumatic?"

She had never thought of it that way - she just assumed that he never thought her worthy of interest after that - mousy thing that she was. She sighed. "Who knows, Hermione? Harry had more important things to worry about, I reckon. Now he has to deal with the prophecy."

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

Ginny put the lid on the box, her bitterness melting at the sight of Hermione's downcast face. All summer their conversations had circled back to that irrefutable fact - Harry had to kill Voldemort or be killed. No wonder he was impatient with haunted houses and dances.

Harry's impatience didn't seem to extend to Quidditch however. He was on the Pitch a full half hour before their first practice was to start. Because the early morning mist hadn't burned off, Ginny didn't see him standing by the hoops with his Firebolt hovering in front of him until she was only a few yards away. It was too late to turn around and give him some privacy, because he looked up as she hesitated in the path.

"Hi," he said in a low voice.

Ginny didn't know if the fog was obscuring her hearing as well as her sight, but she thought he sounded . . . depressed.

"I'm here early to take my pick of the school brooms." She closed the distance between them. "I heard McGonagall bought two new ones." Her voice sounded overly bright for so early in the morning.

"Yeah, I came early because of a broom," he said in that same dull voice.

Then Ginny realized that Harry was steeling himself to use the broom Sirius had given him. It seemed so unfair that these constant reminders of grief and mistakes colored every aspect of his life - even flying, the thing he loved the most.

She didn't know what to say, so she took his hand in sympathy. To her surprise, he squeezed back and didn't let go. Ginny followed the direction of his gaze to the Firebolt. Even through the mist, its aerodynamic lines were evident. It was wonderfully crafted, rich and perfect - and Harry deserved it.

"It's a wonderful broom."

"Yeah."

"You won the Quidditch Cup with it," she reminded him.

"Yeah."

"Didn't that feel great? I mean, I thought it felt great when we won last year." Somehow, holding his hand made it easier for her to talk to him.

He turned his attention from the broom to her. "That's right - you caught the Snitch." He shook his head. "I wish I could have seen it."

"Yes, well you had a giant distraction."

He laughed. "That's one way of putting it." Then he frowned and studied her. "You said on the train that you broke up with your boyfriend right after that match - doesn't that make remembering kind of . . . painful?"

"No," she found herself answering honestly. "That was my moment, and he didn't want to share it then so he doesn't get to intrude on it now - do you know what I mean?"

They were standing so close, that Ginny had to tilt her head to see his eyes when she asked that question. She could tell he was listening intently by his stillness. He nodded slightly.

"He should have been happy for me," she said vehemently, remembering that last hurtful conversation with Michael. "If you like someone you should be happy when they're happy. Don't you think?"

"Yes," he said squeezing her hand. "Absolutely, you were right to dump him." He grinned. "I'm surprised he's not walking around with bat wings on his face."

"Oh, it was a near thing," she answered, smiling back.

"He's lucky you're so nice," he said.

"He's lucky I was so angry I couldn't remember the incantation," she admitted.

Harry laughed. "I'll have to remember to either make you so furious you forget your name, or to stay on your good side."

She knew there was another way he could make her forget her name, but she sternly pushed those thoughts away. "Harry, Sirius loved you and was happy when you were happy. I'm sure just buying this broom for you made him happy. Don't let your sad thoughts muck up the happy memories."

He regarded her a moment and then said abruptly, as if he had made up his mind about something, "You're right - again."

She giggled. "It's official, you are the smart one."

He grinned at her, and grabbed his Firebolt with his free hand. "Let's find you the best broom in the shed before everyone else gets here."

They walked to the shed hand in hand, neither one of them letting go.

"Ginny, you know the new rule about Hogsmeade," Rose said, her voice full of reproach.

"Right, no student is to be on their own," Jeanne chimed in. "You shouldn't spend all your money on those shoes anyway."

Ginny stared at her friends, trying to ignore the rumbling in her stomach. She had joined them at the Three Broomsticks, not eating because she needed her lunch money to buy those shoes - the perfect match for her dress robes. "I'll just nip into the shop, and then right out. You lot go on - there are enough Aurors in the streets for me to be safe. It's not like I'm going to walk back to Hogwarts by myself."

Jeanne bit her lip and Rose heaved a sigh. "All right, Ginny - we're going to pop in on Jeanne's gran - remember she lives on Low Street?"

Ginny nodded and spun on her heel, before they could say another word.

Fifteen minutes later she walked out of Sole of Discretion with a shiny gold bag holding the most extravagant purchase she had ever made in her life. Giddy from the excitement of buying such marvelous shoes, Ginny hurried in the direction of Low Street, not paying the slightest attention to her surroundings. So it was no wonder that she walked straight into Harry, not noticing him until her nose bumped up against his chest.

His t-shirt was soft and his chest was hard. She was too surprised to be embarrassed, and no other thoughts registered, because he was holding her steady asking in an amused voice, "Ok, it's a cloudy day - the sun can't be in your eyes - so what's your excuse?"

She peeped up at his smiling face and she had to laugh at herself for being so silly over shopping. "Shoes," she answered.

"Shoes?"

S he stepped back and held up the gold bag. "I have just bought the best shoes ever created."

He raised his eyebrows. "Congratulations."

"Harry, these are the Firebolt of shoes."

"Oh, the Firebolt of shoes - now I understand."

"You will if you see them," she declared.

"Ok, let's see them."

Ginny faltered; none of her brothers would be remotely interested in any of her purchases. "Are you sure?"

"This is a chance to see the Firebolt of shoes - of course I'm sure," he answered, indicating a low garden wall. "Let's sit here."

Ginny reverently took them out of the box, and slowly unwrapped them. Outside of the shop they looked even better. The soles were thin, the heels were high, and the buttery leather straps arched in perfect half circles over one another. Even the dainty gold buckles were special. "See."

He wasn't looking at the shoes; he was looking at her - with a fond, almost indulgent expression.

"They were really expensive," she admitted, not knowing what else to say to that expression on his face.

His smiled widened. "How much?"

"Four Galleons, Eleven Sickles, and Two Knuts - I spent all my money," she confessed, wondering what he would think.

"If almost five Galleons can make you that happy, I'd say you got your moneys worth," he said softly.

He understood, she marveled. Maybe he didn't understand why these shoes were so wonderful, but he understood that she was happy, and he was happy right along with her- she could see it in his eyes.

"This is a case where money does buy happiness," she said, giggling.

"Money also buys lunch - come with me?" he asked, standing up.

She wanted to go so badly, but her friends would worry if she didn't turn up soon. "Oh, I'd love to go, but my friends . . ."

"Let's go and find them and tell them where you are."

"But - "

"Ginny, I need a minder - did you notice I'm alone too?"

"Why? Did Ron and Hermione ditch you?"

"I came with Seamus and Dean," he answered. "They wanted to spend more time at the arcade, and I didn't."

"Oh." She put her shoes back in the box, thinking hard. She wasn't sure if this was a date or not - but she was hungry and he was alone. Shutting off all rational thought, she decided to compound her happiness. "Ok."

"All right then," he said, the gleam in his eyes telling her that his happiness had just increased as well.

The morning of Halloween, the Quidditch Pitch was covered with a black tent. Only the students working on their house's entries were allowed in.

Ginny didn't ask what the maze connecting the haunted rooms was like because she wanted it to be a surprise. But the Gryffindors who had worked on the bridge room and the graveyard room kept talking about something a-maze-ing and then dissolving into giggles.

Ginny invited Hermione to dress for the Halloween dance in her dormitory. The sun was sending out its last rays, when Hermione arrived, her red robes over her arm.

"You first," Ginny said, "since you and Ron have to be there early to supervise the rooms."

But Hermione wasn't interested in preparations just yet. "Ginny, I heard you're going with Harry to the dance."

"It's not what you think," she said hastily.

"You don't know what I'm thinking," Hermione answered with narrowed eyes.

Ginny sank on to the bed. Might as well get it over with, she thought. "Ok, Hermione, what are you thinking?"

"I think Harry fancies you," Hermione declared. "I think you're going together on a date."

Her heart beating faster at the word 'fancy,' Ginny decided to tell Hermione everything. "Um - the word 'date' was never used. I believe the word was 'minding.'"

"Minding?"

She giggled a little. "As in Harry needed a minder at Hogsmeade, and he thought he would need one for the haunted house."

"Harry needs a minder?" Hermione asked, starting to smile. "Harry asked for a minder?"

Ginny ducked her head. It did sound ridiculous.

"In Harry-speak I'd say that sounds like a date," Hermione stated.

Hearing Hermione confirm what she hadn't dared to even contemplate sent waves of . . . Ginny wasn't sure how to describe the mixture of excitement, fear, and hope that was coursing through her veins. "Oh," was all she could think to say.

Hermione frowned at her reaction. "Aren't you happy about that? Or don't you like Harry that way?"

"I - I don't know," she equivocated. "I do . . . like him. I just - "

Hermione nodded sympathetically. "The little hints just don't give you enough to go on do they? Do you want me to talk to Harry? Find out what he's thinking?"

"No!" Ginny's heart was beating faster now. "Don't you dare. I'll figure it out."

"Good," Hermione said, turning her attention to her robes, "because I think he has."

The first thing Harry said to her when she met him in the common room was, "You definitely are the pretty one."

Ginny felt another hateful blush rise in her face, but she answered as coolly as she could "Still the smart one . . ."

"I think so," he agreed. Which made her blush all the more.

They didn't say much on the way to the tent. It was a clear frosty night. The moon was low in the sky, creating a shimmering path across the lake.

Ginny wondered if Harry remembered the last time there had been a maze on the Quidditch Pitch. Harry had grabbed the cup with Cedric and only one of them had come back alive . . . She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked, taking her hand. "Your hand is cold."

Whenever she touched him, she always found it easier to talk. "Harry, how do you feel about this maze? I mean . . ."

He sighed, but he didn't pull away or stop walking. "I'm just glad I have a minder with me."

Ginny wondered with a sinking heart if that is the only reason why he wanted her to go - as a distraction.

"And I'm glad it's you," he continued.

Now she was more confused than ever, but she couldn't stop to examine her feelings, because they were at the entrance to the maze, which appeared to be made out of . . .

"Maize?" Harry was asking.

Ginny giggled. A thick field of tall corn had been planted on the Pitch and then a maze had been carved out of it. "They were being literal, I see."

"First time it's been grown in Scotland, I'm sure."

"It is under a tent - and I can guess what we're going to be eating at the feast," Ginny said, suddenly looking forward to all the magical rooms, wondering how scary or humorous they were going to be.

Harry took out his wand and said, "Point Me." He glanced over at her. "This is a spell I used during the tournament." She nodded and followed.

They wove their way through the twists and turns of the corn, breathing in the smell of damp earth and growing things. The black tent made it quite dark, so Ginny used her wand to light the way. Once they saw two giggling third years whizzing through the air, back to the entrance.

Every second or third turn spilled them into one of the haunted rooms. The Gryffindor graveyard was first. They didn't find the skeleton popping out of the grave all that frightening - but they were amazed to see Filch's bucket and mop hanging from a tree. "How in the world did that get up there?" Ginny wondered aloud.

"And who is going to be buried alive when Filch finds out?" Harry asked.

The Hufflepuff entry was intended to be the most thought provoking, but turned out to be the most humorous. There was a hall of mirrors, which reflected the "Horrors of Discrimination." When Ginny looked into the mirror entitled "Ageism" she looked like an old crone. "My hair is still red," she giggled.

Harry's was pure white, but still as thick and messy as always. "And you're as handsome as ever," she said to him.

To her surprise, a little color came up in his face. "As long as I don't drool, I'll be satisfied," he said. They also enjoyed seeing themselves as house-elves, werewolves, and blondes.

"Exactly how are blondes discriminated against?" Ginny asked.

"Blonde jokes," Harry answered.

"Please," she groaned.

She wasn't surprised that the Slytherins used snakes for their room. "That had better be fake," she gasped when she first saw the giant Basilisk poised to strike. Its yellow eyes glowed ominously - but then she remembered that she'd be dead right now if it were real.

"That Basilisk may be fake, but those are real," Harry said, pointing to the floor which appeared to be moving, since it was thick with writhing snakes.

She instinctively moved next to him - not wanting to think what a snake slithering over her opened-toed shoes would feel like. "How do we cross over them?"

"We'll ask them to move aside," he said calmly. Ginny had forgotten that he was a Parselmouth.

Harry hissed something and a clear path opened up.

Slowly, they walked across the room as the snakes slithered out of their way.

"What are they saying?" Ginny asked, trying not to feel creeped out by the eerie hissing.

"They are saying: 'Malfoy sure looks smashing as a ferret,'" Harry answered.

"They didn't say that!" Ginny giggled.

One curious fellow came a little too close for Ginny's comfort. "Hey! Hey!" She skittered behind Harry, where the snake slid across his shoes. "That is unwanted physical contact!" she said through gritted teeth.

Harry turned around and grinned. "Not for me."

Ginny realized that not only was she pressed up against him, but also she had wrinkled his robes where she gripped them. "Sorry," she said, trying to smooth out the creases and trying not to notice just how broad his shoulders were . . .

Harry was hissing something else.

"What did you say?" she asked, joining him at his side.

"I told them to leave the lady alone," he replied. "And no, I don't happen to have any Grey Poupon."

"What?"

"So rry," he laughed. "Muggle joke."

The Ravenclaws had devised a room full of moving pendulums that could only be traversed once you worked out the arc and the speed of each one. The equations provided were beyond the skill of most students, but Hermione was there, helping everyone out.

"Do that one more time and I'm hexing you into next Tuesday," Ron hissed at the good-looking Huffelpuff Quidditch player who had just hugged Hermione in gratitude.

"Ron!" Hermione protested.

"Why can't she be like that in class?" Harry muttered to Ginny with a grin.

"I thought you were the smart one," Ginny answered. "You don't need her help."

"I'm smart enough to know when I do need help," he countered, "and I think this qualifies."

Using Hermione's answers, they negotiated the pendulum room with no problem. The rest of the rooms proved to be fun rather than frightening. They burrowed through the underground tunnels of the Hufflepuffs, they slipped through the Slytherin slime pit, and they stole the correct egg from the Ravenclaw nest.

"Just that invisible bridge left," Harry remarked.

"Looks like Ron and Hermione are waiting for us."

"Harry, Ginny, you're the last ones," Hermione said. "Everyone else has already gone ahead to the dance."

"Has anyone fallen?" Ginny asked nervously. Now that she saw the abyss they were supposed to cross, it did look quite frightening.

"Loads," Ron said with glee. "Lots of screaming."

"They didn't really fall," Hermione hastened to assure her. "See, the floor is quite solid."

Ron tossed a pebble into the chasm, but it bounced and rested in what appeared to be mid-air. Immediately the surrounding images started to move vertically, so that it looked as if the chasm walls were speeding by. There were ledges and dead tree branches to grab on to but they went by so quickly; it felt as if they really were falling. "We enchanted them," Hermione explained.

Ginny felt a little nauseous and stepped back, right into Harry. He felt wonderfully solid and warm, and the arm he put around her shoulders steadied her more than anything.

"You two go on," Harry said. "We'll be along in a minute."

"Great, I'm starving," Ron said. He leaped the chasm in two giant steps. Hermione concentrated on her feet and stepped carefully across, having memorized the location of the bridge.

Harry watched Hermione intently. "I think I can go across without triggering the walls." Then he turned to her with concern. "Are you ok?"

She smiled wanly. "I didn't realize that I still had that fear from babyhood."

"Do you want me to go ahead or behind?"

"Ahead. Then I can watch you," she answered.

Harry gingerly put one foot on the bridge and paused for a fraction of a second before he swung his other foot to the next likely spot. Pressing down carefully to test if that spot was indeed solid, he held his arms outstretched for balance. Watching his slow progression across the chasm filled Ginny with an emotion she couldn't name.

Somehow the bridge took on more significance than a silly Halloween challenge. It seemed to sum up all she knew about life - how difficult it was - how one mistake could hurt forever . . .. She shook herself and concentrated on Harry, admiring the lines of his shoulders, the beautiful proportion of his legs to his body, the graceful way he moved.

She was afraid for him, yet she knew he could do it. She wanted to help him, yet she knew the bridge must be crossed alone.

"Made it!" he called, with a grin. Ginny laughed in relief and their eyes locked across the deep divide. At that moment the name of the emotion bubbled to the surface of her mind. Love. She loved him even though she worried about him, grew impatient with him, gave up on him . . .

"Ginny?"

Harry was watching her anxiously while she stood lost in thought. Knowing what she had to do, knowing what she wanted to do, made it all the easier. She raised her foot, but paused in mid-step when she noticed her shoes; those silly high-heeled shoes that cost the earth and Harry thought she should have . . . That thought gave her the courage to go on.

With her first step on the bridge she thought, I'm just his best friend's sister. A pebble fell.

She lunged forward on her right foot. He likes Cho. Rocks started to tumble.

Stretching with her left, she felt for the next solid spot. He's never noticed me. A tree branch bounced off the walls to the bottom.

Ginny didn't know if the deafening noise was all in her mind, or if the room was cooperating, but with every step one more fear clattered into the depths.

All went still when she reached the other side and grabbed Harry's outstretched hand.

Looking back at the chasm, Ginny savored her victory. Then she turned to Harry, happiness ricocheting through her body, and she smiled her triumph.

He smiled back. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be in his arms; to feel his hand touching her face, to see his eyes darken before he bent to kiss her . . .

He was gentle; barely brushing her lips with his own. Just when she thought their contact was broken, he moved back with that same tantalizing caress.

She trembled; an avalanche of sensation suddenly swept through her as she matched the movements of his mouth with her own. She was dimly aware that her nails must be digging into his shoulders and that nice girls probably didn't make those kinds of noises when they kissed. But somehow, that didn't matter.

When they finally broke apart, they could only stare dazedly at each other for a moment. Then Ginny leaned into him so she could hear the steady beating of his heart. "I think I forgot my name."

"You're the pretty one," he reminded her. She could feel his lips on the top of her head.

"Right," she said, holding him close. " And you're the smart one."

"Actually, I'm the happy one," he said.

"Oh?" she asked, loving the sound of his voice rumbling in his chest.

"When you like someone you want to share their happiness," he said, stroking her hair.

"Let's share some more happiness." She was tingling all over, hoping he'd kiss her again.

"Yes, let's," he replied, bending down once again.

They hesitated in the doorway outside of the dance floor. The space was as large as the Great Hall, illuminated by hundreds of enchanted stars and a huge round moon that was aligned with the dance floor, so that the dancers were bathed in its silvery rays. At the far end of the tent, was a raised platform where the teachers were gathered. Below them was a long table full of food and a smaller table with a golden fountain spouting punch. Huge pumpkins and orange padded chairs ringed the dance floor. Ginny felt a surge of excitement at the beautiful scene. It truly was the happy ending on the other side.

"Ginny, Harry! Where have you been?" Hermione demanded.

"Um," Harry began.

"And what have you been doing? Harry, you look like you've been in a fight - your robes are all wrinkled." She took out her wand and cast a spell to take out the creases.

Ginny glanced at Harry and saw his amusement at Hermione's scolding. "Um . . . There was no fighting, but there was physical contact," Ginny said giggling.

Hermione froze with her wand in mid-air. "Oh!" She looked from Ginny to Harry, and then she smiled. "Oh."

"I think we'll find something to eat," Harry said, taking Ginny by the hand.

"I'm sure you're hungry," Hermione said archly.

Not anymore, Ginny thought.

At the punch bowl they overheard two fifth year girls talking. "Look!" One of them squealed. "Snape is hot!"

Harry immediately looked into his cup.

Ginny laughed. "I don't think Seamus has spiked the punch."

"What then?" Harry asked, aghast.. "What horrible curse has been cast on innocent girls so they'll think Snape is attractive?"

"Shampoo," she said taking his hand.

"Shampoo?"

"He washed his hair," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. "And I think they were being sarcastic."

"I hope so," he said, pulling her on to the dance floor.

"You want to dance?" Ginny asked surprised. "I didn't think you liked to dance."

"I've changed my thinking," he said putting his arms around her.

"Have you changed your thinking about anything else?" she asked as they swayed to the slow rhythm of the music.

He stopped and searched her face. "You haven't - have you? I mean - are you ok with this? With us . . ."

She couldn't believe that he could doubt her feelings after they had kissed each other senseless. But then again, they hadn't talked very much, and this was Harry . . .

"See these shoes?" she asked sticking out her foot.

"Yes."

"Rememb er how happy I was when I bought them?"

"Yes."

"Remem ber the happiness of winning the Quidditch cup?"

"Yes."

"If you added up all that happiness, it still wouldn't begin to equal how happy I am now. Do you understand?" She was toe to toe with him now, willing him to accept how she felt.

"You're frowning," he said warily.

"This is how I look when I'm happy," she said fiercely.

"It's hard to tell because you always look beautiful," he said with that teasing light in his eye.

She laughed. "Can't I scare you into happiness?"

"I think you just did," he answered smiling.

They continued their dance, holding each other in the enchanted moonlight, letting the sweet music speak for their hearts. The fear and doubt from the second day of school seemed like a distant dream.

"See - happy endings can happen," she said smugly.

"So can happy beginnings."