A Matchless Match

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Three: A Little Girl Talk Never Hurt Anyone

I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life!

-Frou Frou, Holding Out For A Hero

Harry settled on the common room's comfortable couch, right in front of the thriving fire. Apparently, some wicked Slytherin had slipped a Nauseating Potion into the Pumpkin Juice the night before. Many misfortunate people ended up spending all night hurling uncontrollably and many were still in the Hospital Wing. Luckily, Harry had not been too affected by the potion for presently his stomach was better – a bit uneasy, but better.

Now that Harry had finished his disgusting Potions essay, he shuffled in his bag until he took out the parchment he was looking for. Leaning to the table and dipping his quill into the inkpot. Then he tapped it against his parchment. He had decided to start a new list, one that recorded things in a nice and organized manner.

Thoughtfully, he brushed his white quill against his face. He would first separate the list based on the separate houses. And since he had already done some research on the Gryffindor boys, he might as well start with them, but first he had to figure out how to organize all the information. Name, year, house, appearance (1-10 and description), intelligence (1-10), bravery (1-10), best subject, Quidditch, hobbies, comments.

After a pause, Harry tacked on "Good Kisser (1-10 and according to who)."

Just as he was about to begin, he was disrupted by a bunch of high-pitched giggles coming from across the room. He glanced over to see Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggling loudly, with their heads bent toward each other on a table. They were so close that Lavender's blonde hair was practically touching Parvati's black hair. Harry shrugged and was about to start again when he couldn't help but overhear some of their conversation.

"And then he leaned in –!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

More shrill tittering.

"But you know, that other one was more skilled. Padma said the other day that while Gryffindors…Ravenclaws have…"

Harry strained to listen now, not quite understanding with the two girls giggling in loud and sudden bursts. This could be quite useful. If anyone knew anything about boys, it should be the two infamous Gryffindor flirts. They seemed to know about the love lives of everyone. But at this rate, with all their silly laughter, he wouldn't hear anything he wanted to anytime soon.

He'd confronted Snape at his most vicious mood before, so he could handle a little girl talk. Right?

Before he could over think this contemplation, he rose from his seat and walked over to the girls. It almost felt like a death sentence. He swallowed hard. It took more courage than he was willing to admit not to turn around and run when they spotted him. They giggled even more, causing him to flush.

Smooth. He had to act smooth.

"Erm, h-hi guys," he muttered, standing awkwardly in front of them.

"Hi Harry," the two of them said, twirling their hair with their fingers. He always found it odd when girls did that. Their eyes ran over him and he self-consciously ran a hand through his chaotic black hair. "What can we do for you?"

Smooth, Harry, smooth.

"Cayuhepmai?" he blurted out.

Oh yeah, that was great

He resisted smacking himself in the face. Why was it that when it mattered the most, he always managed to lose his grip on the English language? Whatever he said sounded much more like broken Japanese or Chinese! Perhaps even Greek. Maybe this was some sort of incurable disease that only he was misfortunate enough to have. The Spontaneous-Switching-of-Language disease. Or something else that sounded just as ridiculous.

"Um, what?" Lavender blinked, throwing a glance at her best friend to see if she had caught what Harry said, but only received a blank stare back.

"Err – that is, what I meant to say was…" he fumbled, trying to think. Normally thinking wasn't this hard. Why was he always so horrible with the opposite sex? Perhaps if he spoke slowly… "I was wondering…if you two could…help me. You see," he continued when they watched him with interest, "I have this friend and she's in a horrible relationship right now."

"Oh no," Parvati said sympathetically. Lavender nodded in agreement.

"Yes!" he said eagerly, glad that they understood whatever he was saying when he wasn't quite sure himself. "You see he forgot…forgot their…their w-week-and-a-day anniversary!"

"No boy should forget that!" Lavender cried, shocked. Parvati had gasped loudly and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Exactly," Harry continued, putting on his "I'm-so-sad" face. This was working far better than he had expected. "And for their first month anniversary, he got her…a notebook."

"How tragic!" Parvati let out a choked sob.

"I know," Harry concurred solemnly. "It wasn't even pink."

"Of course we'll help you, Harry!" Lavender stated firmly. "No girl should be with a brute like that!"

"So what do you need us for? Sabotage?" Parvati questioned, an evil glint in her eye. "Want one of us to seduce the guy and have her catch him cheating?"

"Or we could simply get it in his head that we can't just have a bloke walking around forgetting anniversaries," Lavender suggested, smiling viciously, drumming her red nails against the table.

"Er, no!" he said quickly, wondering if the girls had ever done such things before. "I want to…erm, find her a better bloke is all. Really, it's enough."

"Then you've come to the right place, Harry," Lavender stated, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. "What do you need to know?"

Harry took a seat and took out his quill and parchment. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about…"

Harry let out a groan as he shook his still-red right hand wearily. He couldn't believe all that he wrote last night. Well, he sighed, he supposed it was worth it in the end because he got much needed information that no bloke would have been able to tell him. But still, he couldn't simply rely on the data from Lavender and Parvati – for one thing, they were probably biased. Lavender hadn't been kind when describing Seamus at all. Not that he didn't agree with her.

His emerald eyes scanned his parchment again as he strolled down the halls. Idly, he pressed a hand to his stomach, hoping that it wasn't queasy anymore.

Name: Justin Finch-Fletchley
Year: Sixth
House: Hufflepuff
Appearance (1-10 and description): 10. Curly brown hair, tall (6'1)
Intelligence (1-10): 8.5
Bravery (1-10): 7.5
Best Subject: History of Magic
Quidditch: No
Hobbies: Girls, shopping
Good Kisser (1-10 and according to who): 9, Susan Bones, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Hannah Abbott…
Comments: A rich Muggleborn, attacked at the Dueling Club (Second Year), and petrified by the Basilisk the same year. Loyal since he was part of the DA. Rumor has it that he went after five girls at the same time – and got them. Also famed for making it up the Hufflepuff girl's dorm (and was welcomed).

Parvati: "Handsome beyond belief!"
Lavender: "Lovely arm candy if any girl can manage to keep a leash on him."
Katie Bell: "A bit full of himself, but aside from that…not too bad of a guy."

Name: Terry Boot
Year: Sixth
House: Ravenclaw
Appearance (1-10 and description): 7.5. Dark hair, medium height (5'10)
Intelligence (1-10): 9
Bravery (1-10): 6.5
Best Subject: Potions (currently taking N.E.W.T.-level Potions)
Quidditch: No
Hobbies: Studying, socializing
Good Kisser (1-10 and according to who): 7.5, Victoria Frobisher
Comments: Part of DA, Muggleborn, nice, friendly. However, friend of Michael Corner. Nice bloke aside from his choice of stupid friends. Never had any serious relationships, just a few short-lived ones now and again.

Parvati: "He's a gentlemen. You know, he opens doors and stands up when a girl enters a room. An old-fashioned boy is always sexy."

Although Harry had so much new information on blokes, he had the strangest feeling that none of them were…right. It was a gut feeling, really. For example, Justin Finch-Fletchley. While he was one of the most handsome boys in the school, he was a bit too arrogant and flighty with girls. He liked to flaunt his wealth and while he was smart, he loved to brag about it. Then there was Terry Boot. Harry rather liked him, but as for being with Ginny…? His bravery was a bit too low for Harry's tastes. Plus neither of those two played Quidditch at all!

When Harry reached the Great Hall, he quickly hid the parchment in his bag. He spotted a glint of red and couldn't resist smiling. Suddenly he was glad he decided to have some breakfast, queasy stomach or not. Breakfast was always good for the soul and the brain after all.

"Hi Ginny," he said, sliding into the seat directly across from her. Next to him were Hermione and Ron, but they seemed a bit consumed in their own conversation.

"Hi Harry," Ginny said brightly. He noticed that her hair was down and fought a pleased smile from his face, though he wasn't quite sure why he was happy about it. He really didn't mind much whether her hair was up or down. She still looked lovely all the same. He just didn't like that boys would be gaping at her neck and daydreaming about it. She handed him a slice of buttered toast as she said, "It's a great day for flying! Last night's shower cleared up most of the clouds and the sun's out."

He nodded in response as he took a bite into the buttered toast that she gave him. Was it just him, or did toast just jump up on the list of his favorite foods? It tasted delicious and was fulfilling. Yes, he should have buttered toast more often.

"So we have Quidditch practice today, right?" she asked, her eyes on the new piece of toast she was buttering.

"That's right," Harry nodded. He nudged the redhead to his right. "You remember, right, Ron?"

"Oh yeah," he said in a false cheerful voice after he choked down the food that he had crammed into his mouth. He looked a light shade of green, as if he had just drunk some of last night's Nauseating Potion. He was nervous about the first practice.

"Don't worry about it Ron," Harry said, already worried about Ron's lack of confidence in himself.

"That's right, Ron," Hermione said firmly, pressing her lips against his cheek, causing him to blush a deep hue.

"Neville!" Ginny called out, causing Harry's head and Ron's head to rise. The smiling girl waved the nervous raven-haired boy over. "Sit with us!"

"A-A-Are you sure?" he stuttered, nearly tripping over his own legs. His face was as red as a tomato, and the smile on his face was a mile wide. Harry noticed that all the boys were throwing daggers at Neville with their nasty glares.

"Of course," she said, patting the seat next to her.

Hesitantly, Neville sat there, throwing quickly glances at Ron. He smiled apprehensively at Harry, but for some reason Harry couldn't find the power to smile back.

"How have you been, Neville? I don't see you around as much as I used to last year," she began.

"O-Oh! I-I've been busy," he stammered, rubbing his neck timidly. Harry resisted rolling his eyes. Neville sounded almost like Professor Quirrell. He wondered if kicking Neville would fix the problem. "I thought you'd b-be too busy to talk with m-me."

Ginny set down her butter knife and looked Neville straight in the eye. "Neville, you know I'm never too busy for you. We've been through a lot together," she said, smiling mischievously. "The Yule Ball, the DA… Don't say something depressing like that."

Harry had this uncontrollable urge to pick up his butter knife and stab it right into his chest – or Neville's. And for the life of him, he was completely clueless to why.

"Y-You mean it?" Neville asked quietly.

"Oh, Neville, your tie," Ginny pointed out, leaning closer to him. Neville took in a sharp breath as Ginny's head bent over to fix the offensive article, more heat flooding his face, if possible, as her scarlet tresses brushed against his shirt.

Was it just Harry, or did the room just suddenly get very, very hot?

"He can dress himself, Ginny," Harry said rather pointedly. "You're not his mum."

She rolled her eyes in response, removing her hands from Neville's secured tie. "Why thank you Harry, for pointing out the obvious."

"Harry's right," Ron corroborated, slamming his spoon against the table violently. Blokes from other tables either jumped, or snickered at Neville. "If you go around touching every guy in sight, people are going to get the wrong idea. Even if it is just Neville."

Neville emitted a small squeak and bowed his head. Ginny's head swerved to her brother, her eyes glinting furiously.

"I do not need permission to touch anyone – especially not yours, Ronald Weasley!" she hissed, her expression remarkably resembling Mrs. Weasley. "And what do you mean just Neville? He's a great bloke that any girl could like! He, unlike some people, doesn't need five years to get his head out of arse and ask the girl he likes out! Now if you'll excuse me!"

She bolted upright, grabbed her things, and proceeded to march out the Great Hall. Neville's face was torn between happy and upset, as Ron's face contorted a horrible maroon. Before Harry even knew what he was doing, he found himself racing after the irate redhead.

"Ginny!" he called out as he ran up to her. She turned, her face still covered with a scowl. "You all right?"

She sighed in frustration, dragging a hand through her scarlet locks. "I suppose. Ron has always been a prat. Probably always will be."

Harry felt the corners of his mouth tug upward. "Well, anyway, don't worry about him. We'll shut him up once I find you Mr. Right. By the way, I forgot to ask you, just what kind of guy are you looking for?"

"Kind of guy?"

"You know," he continued, leading her outside into the bright sunlight. "I need to know for your matchmaking."

"Oh, well, I hadn't really thought about it," she replied.

"So you have absolutely no idea?" he coaxed.

"Hmmm," she said, seating herself under the shade of a tree. Idly, she twirled her hair with her index finger. He didn't know why, but when she did it…it was just so much better than when Lavender or Parvati did it. Ginny just…did it better, he supposed. "Well, what kind of guy do you think is right for me?"

"Me?" Harry asked, taken aback. "Well, I…erm…well someone who's definitely brave." He hesitated, but she smiled encouragingly. He sat down on the ground next to her and frowned in his musings. "He doesn't have to be a hero, but he has to have courage. I'm sure you wouldn't stand for anything less. A good and kind heart, always out to help others. And he has to be smart – I mean, not a genius like Hermione or anything, but he has to know something. A skill or talent, of course, never hurt because then he would stand out a little. Not too much either because then it might get to his head and haughtiness isn't appealing. In fact, he should be modest!

"He doesn't have to have a great talent with girls – some blokes who do simply are a bit too smooth in my opinion. But he has to understand you and give you space when you need it. He needs to know what his limits are. Humor – he has to be witty and funny with a sense of humor that matches yours.

"And Quidditch!" he burst out animatedly. "He has to either be good at Quidditch or a huge fan. But he has to love flying. Your family should approve of him too or you'll never really get to be with him. He has to be able to stand up to your brothers – all seven of them."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but Harry continued.

"And looks don't hurt. He doesn't need to be the handsomest bloke out there, but he should be at the very least decent. Personally, I think it's better for him to have dark hair because blonde probably would clash a little bit with your red hair. And he has to be taller than you of course.

"Oh – and don't forget kissing. That's one of the main reasons why I'm trying to set you up of course. Your perfect kiss. It's a vital thing. So good kisser – no, great kisser! It's a must."

He took a deep breath from all his talking.

"Of course, I…haven't been giving much thought to it…"

Ginny let out a rich laugh. Then, pushing her hair out of her face, she turned and smiled at him, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Harry, you're aiming pretty high up there."

"You deserve the best," he insisted, blushing slightly. It was rather hot outside, even under the shade.

"Do I?" she murmured under her breath as she leaned over and began to tear pieces of grass from the ground. "But what if the best doesn't want me?"

Harry's throat felt constricted. "What crazy bloke wouldn't want you?"

She slowly looked up, straight at him, and he couldn't breathe. He never noticed how her eyes weren't simply just brown like Ron's. Her eyes were a swirl of different shades of brown, running from dark chocolate to honey. And there was something there in them. Something raw and passionate. Why had he never noticed it before? Why hadn't he tried?

"I don't know, Harry," she smiled halfheartedly. "I don't know."

Naru-chan: What did you think? Please review and let me know!