Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything Harry Potter-related... and I'm not J.K. Rowling. So... yeah.


Harry couldn't think about anything else.

He could barely do his homework, much less pay attention to Snape's tedious lectures and his friends' small talk during free time.

The only thing on his mind most of the time lately was Ginny Weasley. He just couldn't put his mind off her—he constantly caught himself daydreaming of the way her long, silky red hair shone and curved around her face. He thought of her small brown eyes, how they crinkled when she smiled. And her smile… it was adorable.

Harry's mind clung to every moment he spent with her. Thinking back, he wondered, had he always thought of her the way he did now? He remembered the first day he had seen her, that day at King's Cross. And the next summer, when she had developed a childish crush on him. And then, saving her from Tom Riddle in his second year at Hogwarts. No, he had never thought of her as more than a friend, no more than his best friend's little sister. Until now.

But one certain memory stuck out to him above the rest. This memory, thought about every day, was the most significant recent one of Ginny. It was the evening after a Quidditch practice; after the match, he walked with Ron happily back to the common room, only to run into Ginny and their friend, Dean Thomas… kissing. Snogging, to be exact. Harry and Ron had stopped abruptly, Ron beginning to shout. Harry could barely remember the details, only that something in his stomach wanted to rip Dean's throat out.

Ever since that day, Harry had fantasies of Dean disappearing from that image, being replaced by himself, embracing Ginny's slim waist tightly, pressing his lips to hers intently.

But Harry kept telling himself that it couldn't be, him and her; they wouldn't work out. Ron, her brother, was Harry's best friend. So he carried on with his daily business, trying to focus.

One night, Harry sat near the fireplace with Ron and Hermione, working on his Herbology essay. Ron was subtly copying Hermione's notes as he engaged her with talk about McGonnagal's lesson earlier that day. Crookshanks purred gently from the empty armchair next to him, relaxing him. But then the large furry cat stirred abruptly, breaking Harry's concentration. He looked up to see what the matter was. The porthole burst open, revealing a sobbing Ginny. Harry stood immediately, ignoring the books and parchment tumbling from his lap onto the floor.

Ginny rushed in, trying to stifle her cries unsuccessfully. But Harry caught her, swinging her around to face him.

"What's wrong?" he asked frantically. She just shook her head.

"Ginny, please!" Harry paid no attention to Ron and Hermione and a few others forming a small crowd around them, asking what was wrong. "You can tell me," he said.

"It's Dean…" she said, swallowing back her tears." He said—" Harry waited. "We were fighting… he said… I wasn't good enough… he…"

Harry didn't wait for her to finish; he had heard enough. He released her arms and she walked quickly across the room to the stairs to her dormitory, followed by a few other girls with concerned looks on their faces.

The rage was back. Harry couldn't just sit back and try to forget it now. He tore out of the porthole and into a corridor, searching.

He didn't know what he would do when he found Dean. He just knew he wanted to hurt him for hurting Ginny.

Then he came to a corridor above the Great Hall and saw Dean, sitting on a bench, head in his hands.

It was his first instinct—Harry drew and pointed his wand, shouting, "Levicorpus!" Dean had no time to even draw his own wand. He flew into the air, dangling by his foot.

"Harry!" he yelled, shocked. "What are you doing?"

"How could you?" Harry yelled back. "Expelliarmus!" Dean flew backwards, crashing into a tall suit of armor standing near the stairs. Hitting his head, he fell to the ground.

"What are you talking about?" Dean said, reaching for his wand inside his cloak.

"How could you hurt her?" Harry shouted, pointing his wand again. He walked forwards, desperately racking his brain for another spell to use against Dean.

"It's none of your business!" Dean said, pointing his wand at Harry.

"Stupe—" Harry began.

"Expelliarmus!" Dean shouted, jumping to his feet. Harry was thrown backwards, and he tumbled down the stairs. He looked up in time to see Dean at the top of the staircase, mouth open in shock at what he had done; he shoved his wand in his pocket and ran away. Then Harry's head fell onto the hard, cold floor, his eyes closing.

Harry opened his eyes. He saw dark, blurry figures standing around his bed.

"Finally, you're up," a woman's voice said. She handed him his glasses. He shakily put them on and saw Madam Pomfrey standing over him, checking a bandage on his arm. Ron and Hermione stood at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, Harry, are you okay? We were so worried!" Hermione said, rushing to his side.

"Yeah, mate, you took a nasty fall," Ron said, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm… fine… I think," he said. Just then an awful pain struck his head.

"Ouch," he muttered, his hand rising to his forehead instinctively.

"I'm afraid you hit your head several times when you fell. Luckily Mr. Thomas came to me straightaway," explained Madam Pomfrey. Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Maybe they knew what happened.

"Er, where is Dean?" Harry asked. He still felt anger towards Dean. But he was okay because Dean sent for help.

"He left the hospital wing just this morning, Harry. He wanted to apologize but thought it best to..." Hermione said. "Well, he feels really awful."

Madam Pomfrey walked away then, muttering, "He needs his rest."

"You know, you should feel terrible, too, Harry. What you did was pretty stupid," Hermione continued once Madam Pomfrey was out of earshot.

"Hermione, what exactly happened?" Harry asked, his headache dying down a bit.

"Well, after you ran out of the common room, Ginny came back down, wondering where you went off to. She went looking for you, thinking you would be with Dean. We followed her and ran into Dean, who said you had attacked him. We ran back to the stairs and you were passed out on the floor!"

"Did… did Dean tell you what I said?"

"Well, yes." There was a long silence. Harry looked at Ron, who was looking at the floor awkwardly.

Then Ginny walked into the room. She stopped, spotting them all; she took in a breath and started towards them. Ron and Hermione looked at each other again, and Ron said, "Well, er, we'll see you later." And they walked out.

Ginny approached him and sat by his side. "How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked tentatively, eyeing the bandage on his arm.

"Fine. Are you okay?"

"I'm….okay, I suppose." There was a pause. Ginny looked at her hands, her fingers tracing the wrinkles on her jeans.

"Look, Ginny-" Harry started.

"Harry, I really appreciate what you did for me, but it wasn't really necessary."

"I know. I was being stupid. I'm sorry." There was another pause.

"I talked to Dean. We're broken up now. He apologized, though."

"Oh," Harry said. On the inside, he was happy just to know Ginny was okay. But he did feel terrible. How could he have been so stupid then, even in the spur of the moment?

"Well, I should go… you should rest." She looked pointedly at the bandages wrapping his head.

"Right."

Ginny stood and turned to leave. She hesitated, and then turned back around.

"But thank you for standing up to me. It was….sweet." She smiled.

"Er…any time." He chuckled softly.

Suddenly, and to Harry's great astonishment, Ginny leaned over and kissed him. It was soft and short. But Harry kissed back, and he couldn't have felt happier. Both of their faces flushed red.

She pulled away, giving him one last smile. "See you," she said, then turned and left the room.


Author's Note: You may have read this story before... the previous version I wrote irritated me so I decided to redo it. Anyways, I really hope you liked it. Hopefully I'll be adding a new chapter soon... but I'm a mega procrastinator so... who knows? Haha. Please review and be brutally honest! I'm always looking for ways to become a better author. :]