DISCLAIMER: I own nothing – it all belongs to JK Rowling.
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The confrontation with Ginny was like a watershed. Although still quieter than usual, Harry spent more time with his friends and actually seemed to be enjoying himself. However, he was happiest with Ginny, spending hours just sitting reading with her, or out on long walks where he spoke freely to her about everything he had been going through. Although Ron and Hermione were getting a bit jealous of the time he spent with her, they could see that it was doing him good to get everything off his chest.
A few days before the end of the holidays, a heat wave hit. Everyone lay around in patches of shade, trying desperately to keep cool by staying very still and drinking iced pumpkin juice. Ron and Hermione volunteered to head off into the local village to buy ice cream for everyone, and Harry quickly dodged the offer to join them.
"You must be nuts – with this heat, you two are irritable enough," he said. "After a walk into the village you're bound to end up having a screaming match and I don't feel like refereeing. Pass, thanks – reckon I'll just stay here and read."
He collected his book from his room and headed into the garden. There, stretched out on a well-padded swing bench under a tree, was Ginny. Like everything else in the Weasley household, the bench needed nothing to hold it up – it simply hovered in mid-air, swinging gently from side to side.
Harry went over to it. "Budge up, Ginny," he said companionably. Not taking her eyes off her book, she moved her feet up to make room for him.
After a few minutes reading, Harry glanced at Ginny's toes and noticed with something like amazement that the nails were adorned with pale pink polish. Looking up and opening his mouth to "do a Ron" and tease her about it, he froze.
A ray of sunshine had filtered through the leaves above, landing softly on Ginny's downturned head. Her long hair, rather than the carrot red of her brothers, was auburn, shot through with threads of russet and gold. Also unlike her brothers, Ginny had escaped the ignominy of freckles and had instead a pale, creamy complexion. Her brow furrowed in concentration, she was biting her lower lip.
Harry sat watching her with his mouth still open. Since when had Ginny grown up and gotten so pretty? he thought. At that moment, she glanced up at him and was a bit startled to find him studying her.
"What?" she said. "Have I got dirt on my face or something?"
"Um… no," said Harry weakly. "I … er …" Think of something to say, you prat, he thought frantically. "You've … changed, Ginny."
"Oh yes," she said blithely, fingering her pink t-shirt. "I was wearing a blue top this morning, but then butterfingers Ron spilled tea all over it so I had to change into this. It's a bit too small, but everything else is in the wash."
Good save, Potter, she had no idea of what you meant, Harry thought, but then noticed that her top was, indeed, a bit too small and was showing off bits of Ginny he didn't even know she had. His stomach did a neat backflip and he groaned inwardly. This is little Ginny, Ron's little sister …
He decided to change the subject. "So how's it going with Dean?" he asked quickly. Actually, come to think of it, he was quite interested to find out.
"Dean?" said Ginny blankly. Then she laughed. "Oh, that. There never was anything with Dean – I just said that to rattle Ron on the train."
"It worked," muttered Harry. "He was still moaning about it when we got to the platform."
"He'd been such an idiot about Michael, so he had it coming," said Ginny. "What about you and Cho?"
"There never really was a 'me and Cho'," said Harry honestly. "All she really wanted was to talk to me about Cedric."
"Oh, I don't believe that," said Ginny, putting her arms above her head and stretching luxuriously. Harry tried to keep his eyes fixed on her face and away from her chest. "She was quite keen on you, you know. What I didn't like though, was that she paraded your relationship around like a trophy."
"What?" said Harry, startled.
"Oh yes," said Ginny. "You're quite the catch, you know. The most eligible bachelor at Hogwarts."
"Me?"
"Come on, Harry, you know what I'm talking about!" said Ginny, irritated.
"Actually, I have no idea," he retorted with as much dignity as he could muster.
"Well, let's see…" said Ginny. "One," she started ticking off on her fingers, "you're 'The Boy Who Lived' – a lot of girls go for fame, you know."
"But …"
"Shh. Two, you were the youngest Seeker in a century, and the best Quidditch player the school has seen in about fifty years, according to Madam Hooch."
"Oh, come on …"
"I said, be quiet," she said, grinning. "Three, you won the Tri-Wizard competition hands down, despite being the youngest competitor there. Four, you have a reputation for being the man to save the day whenever something to do with Voldemort happens. And five, you have a very strong hero complex."
"I DO NOT! IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT THINGS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME!" spluttered Harry.
"Maybe so, but you've got every girl at Hogwarts dreaming of you being their knight in shining armor and rescuing them from distress," said Ginny. "So, if you put all that together, you've got eligible bachelor number one at Hogwarts. And now that you're Quidditch Captain and a prefect, you'll be fighting them off in droves this year."
"Oh, rubbish," retorted Harry. "I've never had girls flocking after me!"
"What about the Yule Ball, then?" teased Ginny. "How many girls asked you?"
"About five," Harry admitted," but that's because I was in the Tri-Wizards and …"
"Not so," said Ginny. "I know most of them really wanted to go with you." She winked.
Time to fight back, thought Harry. "So, if every girl at Hogwarts wants rescuing, does that include you?" he shot out.
"No," said Ginny. "You've done that once already, remember? I reckon I've had my chance – let some other poor girl have a shot."
She gave him a small smile, and returned to her book. Harry looked at her thoughtfully. Did that mean what he thought she was trying to say – that she'd had her chance with him, period? Hermione had said that Ginny was over her crush on him …
"Ginny," he started, but was interrupted by a shout from the gate. Hermione and Ron had returned from Ottery St Catchpole with ice-cream and were marching towards him. Hastily, Harry stood to meet them. The last thing he felt like now was being caught doing anything remotely compromising with Ginny and having Ron trying to knock his block off.
"This IDIOT tried to pay with Sickles," said Hermione, highly annoyed. "Really, Ron, I thought that living so close to the village all your life would have taught you a bit about how to deal with Muggle daily life!"
"She's acting like it's the end of the world," muttered Ron darkly to Harry. "I just forgot, you know?"
"Then, he tries to cover up and pretend that he's a foreigner and didn't know what he was doing – with a totally horrible, fake French accent," complained Hermione. "Of course, the guy at the ice-cream place has only ever seen you about a hundred times, so he knows you live in the area and are as English as you can get! Honestly Ron," she chuntered, glaring at Ginny and Harry, who were trying hard not to burst into laughter, "I don't know WHAT to do with you sometimes!"
"OK, Herm-own-ninny, give it a rest," said Ron, exasperated. "You've been going on about it for fifteen minutes now! Come on, you two – let's go inside and serve up this icecream before it melts into a puddle completely."
Before following them inside, Harry took the opportunity to lean down and whisper in Ginny's ear. "By the way, Ginny, I reckon it's not me who'll be fighting them off this year – it'll be you." Startled, she looked up at him. "You've grown up so much and gotten so pretty - all the guys will be after you, I'm sure of it," he added, before going inside after Ron. Ginny watched him go, amazed.