Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters/settings
The loud gonging of the Hogwarts bell echoed throughout the halls, calling some to their classes while releasing others from a prison like Potions class. Harry had been quite lost as he made his way to the new transfiguration classroom, having to have had ask portraits of a joyous, three-headed troll, a distressed maiden surrounded by arguing monks, and a weeping sphinx for directions. His feet echoed loudly as he ran down a string of corridors, turning on his heel to start down another one. Suddenly, he spotted the all-years lesson beginning in a room not far ahead. Harry stormed in, panting quite a bit before apologizing to Professor McGonagall. Spotting a familiar flash of red hair, Harry turned to find Ginny! What? She's here!
His expression softening, Harry smiled warmly at his friend's sister. But wait, why am I so happy to see her…it can't be…she's my mate's sister. "Hey, Ginny," Harry finally spat out after "the cat" had released his tongue.
"Oh, hello, Harry," Ginny smiled at him, flicking her wand at the match sitting in front of her. There was a bit of a flash as the match twisted and turned, turning silvery and finally changing into a needle. "Success!" She said jokingly, throwing Harry another grin. "Sit down," She invited him next to her. A bit dumbfounded, Harry took a few moments until he finally pulled up the chair next to her. She's cute when she's doing spells…wait…what! Harry was a bit shocked as he tried desperately to expunge or at least justify his thoughts. He failed miserably. The class seemed to go on for hours, and Harry continued to suffer as he gradually gave in to the fact that he had developed a crush. On Ginny of all people…
Ginny seemed a little flirtatious throughout the lesson, and Harry slowly began to calm himself.
Quidditch practice would have normally been a relief to Harry from all of the stresses of his day, but he was too stuck on something. I actually like her. "Alright, everyone, get started on your normal routines!" Harry called out over the field, receiving signs of approval from his teammates. "Hey Ron, let the snitch out for me, would you?" Harry called down to his mate on the ground. Oh, no, what happens if Ron finds out? He was too stuck on the simple question to realize Ron had released the snitch. It was not until the glint of gold zipped around his face a few times that Harry noticed it. Shaking his head, Harry snapped back into reality and swooped down after the snitch. His broom pushed like never before, and his hand was extended in front of him as the snitch tried desperately to evade his grip.
"GO HARRY!" He heard the familiar voice shout. Harry jolted his head in Ginny's direction, grinning proudly. "HARRY!" She then shouted, and Harry threw his eyes back in front of him. Oh!
Harry pulled at his broom, missing one of the goal posts by an inch. He panted with fear as he turned back towards the snitch, now quite a few yards away. The snitch veered upwards, and Harry followed. As he reached the high altitude-just above the spectator towers-Harry was forced to fight the whipping winds. The snitch made a horrifying vertical swoop, and Harry followed it. The healthy, green field below enlarged as he neared it, forcing himself to pull up as the snitch did. Harry spotted Ginny hurling the chaser towards the goal posts, and she scored! Harry felt his stomach leap in excitement, and he had actually stopped his broom to applaud her. "Harry, what're you doing? The Snitch!" One of Harry's beaters called. His eyebrow arched in confusion. He had actually forgotten his objective! What's wrong with me!
The evening quickly came, and Harry and the rest of the quidditch team sauntered back to the castle. He continued to look back at Ginny, his mind stained with fluffy thoughts centering on her. There was nothing but her name and her face on his mind, and the rest of the team had noticed he had been playing rather poorly for some unknown reason. Harry was the last to the common room, as he had taken a detour to be alone. He had wandered the corridors aimlessly, his eyes locked on the ground in front of him as his mind raced. I-I think she likes me, too. Harry plotted and planned several scenarios, trying to figure out what to say and what to do and what the consequences might have been. Maybe I should ask Hermione…no! No one can know. He argued with himself the whole way back to the common room, actually finding himself a bit nervous as he approached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Acid Pop," He recited rather dully, walking past the rather annoyed woman as he stepped onto the beginning of the red carpet. The carpet muffled his footsteps as he made his way further inside, but something caused Harry to stop dead. No…
Ginny and Dean were seated on the couch, snogging without a bit of regret. I-I just have to get past them. I can't make this any more awkward than it already is. Harry quietly tiptoed past the two, up into the boy's dormitory. He didn't mutter a word to Ron, instead getting into his bed with a sickening feeling in his stomach as he closed the drapes on his four-poster. Why? Why did she do it? Why did she bother to act all flirty if she didn't mean it! Why all of the constant looks! I hate this! Why did I have to take the long way back? I could've just gotten away from it before it even started…
The millions of thoughts-mostly angry-continued to pummel about his mind as he tried to rest. It was evident to Harry that he would most likely be up the entire evening thinking on the events of that day. For the first time that year, he felt truly awful.