I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters

ONE SHOT!

His ears pricked at the twinkling laughter that seemed, for the slightest moment, to muffle the noisy chatter emitting from their Charms class. On impulse, Dean turned his head away from his friends, who were each taking turns to come up with detailed commentaries on the profiles of the girls in their class, straining to locate the source of that…nightingale's tune.

Scanning the class casually, his gaze landed on a certain redhead who was sitting right beside the door, her elbow propped up on the desk and her back leaning against the wall, facing his direction. Dean cocked his left brow in surprise, wasn't Ginny supposed to be in another class? He didn't recall Ron saying anything of her transferring up to their class…Dean would surely remember his mate's ballistic face if he ever were to have mentioned. So why is it that she's here? Dean was staring absently in the space between them when he his view faltered with a flicker of orange, and he heard the distant scraping of a chair. Before he could come to his senses, he felt a creeping blush flood his face with warmth as Ginny threw him a cheery smile and a slight wave as she passed him to drop her scroll on Professor Flitwick's desk.

Dean picked up his quill and tapped its feathery edge against his temple as ideas ran through his mind like quidditch players presenting themselves, hovering on their broomsticks in midair, to the audience at the start of each game. The imaginary quidditch game halted to a stop and burst into nothingness as a waft of lilac hit his nose and Ginny walked past again, headed towards her desk. Dean grabbed the edge of his desk, leaning out.

"Yo Ginny!"

He winced, bracing himself as he felt the heat of eyes turned in his direction. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, and everyone, well, almost everyone got back to their work. Seamus was sniggering by his side; his arms settling to a fold behind his head as he leaned comfortably back on his chair, obviously expectant of some show that is about to begin. Thomas was brushing Neville off, who was tactlessly trying to resume their previously heated discussion of the girls, as he threw Dean an exasperated look, followed by a smirk as his eyes moved to a spot right behind Dean—a spot now occupied by Ginny, who turned back around when her name was called.

"Yeah Dean?" she asked casually. No apparent barriers in tone, good.

A smile played across Dean's lips as she cocked her head to the right, slightly. He thought of how innocent she looked. How cute she is when she smiled…no, the moment before she smiled, right before the smile itself took shape. He could almost imagine the thoughts that played out in her head right before her lips curled into that sweet shape. Her lips were not pouty like the models in "Witches Weekly", nor were they cherry red or tinged with passion. They were just…simple, like the rest of Ginny is, but that's what captivates me. It's unexplainable, incomprehensible, to others perhaps, not me. None of his friends could wrap their minds around the idea of him liking her. They've even been through the list one night, ensuring his sanity. Dean remembered it clearly, compiling the list made him feel the more for her. The list went something like that: pretty…check, nice…check, kind…check, innocent…check (veryy, Seamus had added), sociable…quite so, "what about fiery?" Thomas had added, to which Seamus had said "her hair sure is", igniting a peal of laughter from the guys. Dean had secretly thought there was something more, almost…inside of her that made her so appealing, like a magnetic force, driving him towards her…almost like he's found his calling.

"Can I have my ink bottle back?" the words left his mouth before he could think. He just wanted her there, talking to him. Whatever it takes…

"I have your bottle?" Ginny shot back, her eyebrows furrowed, furiously recalling the incident. The blank look on Dean's face made her raise her brow as she saw him struggle for a comeback. She crossed her arms casually and leaned gently against the table behind her, her eyes developing the first glimmer of a twinkle as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears.

"So? I haven't right?" she challenged, looking at Dean in the eye. He was staring back at her, and when she saw he made no attempt to speak, move, much less avert is gaze, she stood back upright, broke his gaze, and made to walk away.

"Ah Ginny…come on. Merlin, you're just so…beautiful" for the second time in less than a minute, damn! his mouth failed to contain his thoughts.

Dean looked down at his hands for just a second before he looked back up into her face, curiosity getting the better of him as he fought to see her reaction. Her face was turned to the comfort of Hermione but he could see her cheeks blush to a rosy hue beneath her gold-specked skin.

"Yeah, right…no way" Ginny started, "You feeling alright?" she replied carelessly, swiping from her tone all trace of her previous blatant embarrassment. "Maybe you need to visit Madame Pomfrey" she offered, tongue in cheek, a smile lighting up her face again as she bounded off back to her desk.

The guys were still shaking with hysterical laughter when Dean turned back to them—indeed, it was one thing watching, but a totally different thing actually being the one doing it. He still remembered the day Thomas was smitten by Lavender. But this was entirely different. Ginny…she was like the chance occurrence of a shooting star, you either catch it, or you don't…and when you do, your fascination for it will always linger, not the least bit satisfied or soothed, until the day it's yours to understand, to love.

Dean swore Ginny will be just that.

A/N: phew, i haven't written on here in a looOOng while. playin arnd with styles now. please review! Any criticism, comments, thoughts…just throw it in here! It'll only take a minute ;) I just, really need some comments on my writing, style, feedback feedback! thankssss