A hug

It was just a hug, Ginny! Get over it! Just a hug!

Ginny Weasley tried to ignore the urge to think about that hug and forced herself to at least try to understand something about whatever it was that her boyfriend was talking about. Something about a game... feetball? Well, whatever it was, he was really passionate about it. Apparently, he was trying to explain to her about tatics and goals, but Ginny couldn't really understand a goal without a quaffle being involved, or at least a broom. What was the fun in a game if you couldn't fly? And so her mind would lead her to more... interesting memories. Like the end of a quidditch match. More specifically, the celebration of the Gryffindor victory. And the hug.

Ginny, you really need to stop thinking about that bloody hug. You've been hugged before, by a lot of people. Your mum hugs you all the time. Your friends hug you. Hell, even your brothers hug you in some special occasions.

But that hug was different. She was sure of it. He had never hugged her before. In fact, in all of her years watching him (and she had watched him a lot), she had never seen him hug anyone before. Of course, he was hugged: Hermione and her mum hugged him sometimes, but every time it seemed that he was a little uncomfortable. But Harry never hugged anyone, it just wasn't something he would do. She supposed it had something to do with those muggles.

Suddenly, she felt hiseyes on her. She turned around, and sure enough, her eyes met his, looking at her across the room, while her brother and Hermione were talking about something. He looked a little embarrassed at being caught staring But his eyes didn't leave her, as she would have thought. Instead, he looked at Dean, that was still explaining something about that strange game, and rolled his eyes, as trying to say that he knew how exciting she thought it was. His eyes met hers again and she gave him a half-smile. Then, feeling guilty because she wasn't even looking at her boyfriend, she turned to Dean.

- Ginny, are you listening? – Her boyfriend, the boy she should be listening to, instead of wondering about hugs that didn't mean anything, was trying to get her attention.

- Yes, Dean. I'm listening.

- Oh, really? Then, what was I talking about just now?

- Well, Dean – she was trying to remember something, but she was so lost in her thoughts, she couldn't remember a word he was saying two minutes earlier– you were just explaining to me how your team tries to score a goal...

She knew it was a lame excuse for an answer, but it was the best idea she could come up with at such short notice.

- Look, if I was boring you, why didn't you say something? – He was a little hurt, but Ginny thought that maybe, if he had actually looked at her while he was trying to explain about goals and games where you couldn't touch the ball with your hands, he would have realised that she wasn't interested in what he was talking about. But her lack of attention and interest didn't have much to do with the game he was trying to explain to her, but it had everything to do with a simple, friendly (as she tried to remember all the time) hug. And that made her feel guilty.

- Sorry, Dean, I guess I'm worried about the essays I still haven't finished. – She said, gesturing to all the open books around her. She actually was trying to study before Dean came to talk to her, but even then, all she could think about was that blasted hug, and that made her feel ridiculous. - You know, it is my O.W.L.'s year and the professors are trying to drown us in paperwork. – She tried to make a joke, because lately everything was a good reason for them to argue.

- Yeah, I remember the feeling... I just thought that maybe you would want an evening off, so we could spend some time together. Between classes and quidditch, we didn't have much time for ourselves lately, did we?

Great, yet another thing she should feel guilty about. She needed to try to spend more time alone with her boyfriend, instead of daydreaming about being in another man's arms.

- No, we didn't. I'm sorry, but...

- That's ok, Ginny. I understand. Listen, I'm going up to my room, Seamus told me he had something to show me. We'll see each other tomorrow, all right? Good night! – And, with a quick peek on her lips, he left.

Ginny just sat there for a while, thinking about what she had started to call "the hug". It was so... unexpected. She knew it had been a good game, despite the comments made by McLaggen about her brother, and she had to do something about it, of course, but after that... when Harry came to her, with that smile on his face, the last thing she would have imagined (but something she had always dreamed about, even after her decision to give up on Harry James Potter – not that she would admit to anyone, mind you) was that hug. If there was such thing as a perfect hug, that was it. Just the right amount of pressure, the perfect fit... it was like (as cliché as it might sound) she belonged in his arms.

She felt herself blush as the last thought occured to her. What was she, eleven all over again? Next thing she knew, she would be sending stupid valentines with dwarfs singing her horrible poetry, giving the twins even more reasons to tease her.

Adding the fact that Hermione told her she suspected Harry had finally started to think of her as more than Ron's little sister, she couldn't help but wonder if that five second hug meant a little bit more. Hermione was right, his eyes were following her everytime she looked. When they talked, he always made her feel like she was important, like what she thought really mattered. And there were those smiles she could swear he only smiled to her, or that glint in his eyes that seemed to come alive when she was near. Of course, it could be all her wishful thinking, but Hermione didn't agree with that. And Hermione knew him, after all, she was one of his best friends, right? Almost six years of living with him, she would know if he was acting differently.

And there was the matter of Ron and his not so subtle hints. He was always telling her she could do better than Dean. But what did her brother knew, anyway? If he was so good in relationships, he would never had snogged (she refused to think of those disgusting displays as more than just that) Lavender in the first place. Instead, he would have pulled his head out of his arse and finally confessed to Hermione that he was head over heels with her. He was the last person she needed to take advice on relationships.

Ginny rubbed her eyes, getting tired. She thought she was over it. Her crush, her silly hopes that one day he would notice her as a girl, as a woman. And there was another very important matter: She had a boyfriend! She was happy with Dean. She really was. He was a nice guy. One of the best she had ever met. The fact that she hadn't a crush on him since she was ten didn't change that.

Sighing, she picked up her books and decided to go to bed early. As she was climbing the stairs, she felt Harry's eyes on her and couldn't help but smile. Maybe that hug wasn't just a hug after all. She just had to decide if that was a good thing or not.