Impress Her with Your Total Lack of Planning Skills
She was not expecting it while walking with Harry and Ron from the Quidditch Pitch to the Gryffindor common room. Quite frankly, she wasn't expecting it at all. One minute she was pretending to have enjoyed match and have the slightest idea as to what Ron was babbling about (Blatching? Was that even a word?), and the next she was being attacked by a rather smelly pile of green robes. With lips. Reasonably nice lips, to be precise. Especially when this person put them… hmm… there. She decided she was fairly fond of being attacked this way, and was about to proceed and assault back, when the person was pulled off of her.
She blinked owlishly. And then again. Clearly her vision was out of wack. Was she wearing Harry's glasses again (like in that cruel prank back in 5th year?)? She waved her hand over her face. Nope. That was still him, struggling in Harry's arms, as Ron was going through what looked like asphyxiation. Green robes. Smelly. Lips. Blond hair. Grey eyes.
She shuddered. And then walked away. She would now try to pretend like his lips were not at one point attached to her face. Bugger.
A/N: According to Wikipedia's article on Quidditch, Blatching: No player may fly with the intent to collide. Eheh. I'll blatch you if you don't review.
Wahah! My first review threat! Was it good and ominous? Alas, an oxymoron.