Chapter 8

A/N: I know I promised three more updates but I just got caught up with the holidays so the New Year's chappie may come a few days AFTER then. Sorry! But I felt in a good mood today so I decided to update. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Only in my daydreams in science do I own Harry Potter and co.

OH NO!

OH NO! She's gonna kill me! She's going to KILL me!

Harry brought his head up to look at Ginny's. Her eyes were blazing and for a split second, Harry thought she was really going to kill him. She was covered in sick.

They stared at each other for a minute while Ron roared with laughter in the background and Hermione was banging her head against her fist.

Ginny's face softened. And Harry had no idea what was so funny, but she threw her head back and laughed. Really laughed.

Harry bore a sigh of relief. Maybe she wasn't going to kill him. Yet.

"Oh, Harry you prat." Ginny said, still laughing.

Harry felt himself grow skeletal and his stomach tightened. Ginny got out her wand and pointed it at Harry's puke so that it all vanished. "Come on, I'll take you to see Madame Pompfrey"

But that meant they would miss the match. "No, you stay here, I can go. You'll miss everything"

"Oh, don't be silly. You're sick. The match isn't the most important thing. Now come on" she said, taking Harry by the arm.

He felt the spot she touched grow warm and his face was probably a deep crimson, but that didn't matter. She thought Harry was more important than the match.

Harry followed out of the box and into a room with a first aid sign on the door.

Madame Pompfrey greeted them with an impatient howl "Can't even go one day without a kid getting sick" she muttered.

She sat Harry down in chair while she went to get some potion. Ginny sat beside him.

"Tough luck, getting sick now" she said as a distant cheer echoed through the silent room.

"Yeah. You really didn't need to come with me you know" Harry told her.

But in the back of his mind, he would give anything not for her to leave.

"Well I wasn't going to let you come down here by yourself if you're sick. I mean, that time I fell of my broom, you stayed by my side. It was the least I could do."

Harry smiled.

Madame Pompfrey came back with a steaming liquid and shoved it into Harry's hands. "You drink that. There is no need to stay overnight but I want you under my eye for a little bit. And you," she said, pointing to Ginny. "There is no need for you to be here. He needs his rest"

"I want to stay" Ginny replied coolly.

Madame Pompfrey sighed and turned on her heel.

Harry scarfed down the liquid. It tasted awful.

Instantly, he felt himself feel loads better. The butterflies in his stomach gone.

With the frequent interruptions of the rumbles of the Qudditch match, their conversation managed to go quite nicely.

They talked about Quidditch mainly, with the occasional poke at unliked teachers.

If only he could muster up the courage to ask her to Hogsmeade. She and Dean boiled over, so it was alright now. He just needed to say something since he was too afraid to snog her.

"Er, Ginny, do you-"

"Alright, you're free to go" Madame Pompfrey said, interrupting Harry.

The two of them stood up and hustled out of the room. "What were you saying Harry?" she asked, when the door was closed behind them.

Just do it. Come on.

"Well, er, since the match is about, er, over, would you maybe like to go, for a w-walk instead?"

Ginny smiled. "I would love that, Harry"

And so it was done. He did it. He, Harry Potter, and asked a girl out. He did it!

Harry followed her through a flight of steps outside. She pointed ahead to a woodsy trail just ahead. Harry nodded.

His stomach started to lurch again. If only he didn't screw it up, he just might have a chance.

And for heaven's sake, don't let me barf on her again!

The trail was just right for romance. There were several boulders ahead and it was the perfect opportunity for Harry to help her over them.

He walked a short distance ahead and was there when she met the rocks.

She smiled as he took her hand (He didn't know how he managed to do that, with his heart palpitating at rapid speed) and lead her perfectly over them to a tiny stream.

It was just a perfect picture. Harry noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a few flowers growing on the edge of the bed of the stream.

With what he courage he gathered, he plucked a few them from the ground. And however lucky he was, they didn't have part of the earth still attached like little children's flowers did when they picked them for their mother's.

"For you," He whispered, handing him the flowers.

And with that, she smiled a toothy grin.

A/N: Well, what did you think? Good – bad? TELL ME! I, myself like this chapter because Harry didn't make a fool of himself. Please leave a review. Feedback is wonderful!