A Matchless Match

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and no profit was made writing this. None whatsoever.

Naru-chan: Another day, another chapter, eh? Thanks all of you that reviewed. I enjoy feedback of any kind. It's always nice. I hope you get the title, I'm more than willing to explain, but I doubt you'll need me to. :)

Chapter Six: Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

I am tired of being my own rival! – Christian, Cyrano de Bergerac

Wherever Ginny had gone, Harry couldn't find her. He felt that he needed to explain. What it was that he needed to explain was beyond him, but he felt that something had gone wrong and that Ginny was upset. It was so strange – first of all that she simply left, and secondly the fact that he couldn't find her. He checked all her favorite spots – the tree near the Black Lake, the quiet corner in the library where the two of them had shared chocolate the year before, the bustling common room, the Room of Requirement.

Nothing.

The one good thing he did feel was that if he couldn't find her then surely none of the other insane groups would be able to find her either.

But it turned out that he wouldn't have to worry too much about this because Ron would make a speedy recovery, probably because of sheer stubborn will, and would be up and about by nightfall. Granted, he would have a large bandage, but he was well enough to be throwing suspicious glances at every male in the school. The mad groups would disappear and an almost unsettling silence would fall on the school in contrast to the crazy events that had happened that day.

Yet Harry wasn't comforted by any of these thoughts as he settled himself in his bed. He lay very still, listening to the snoring and mumbling coming from the other beds. Something was disquieting him. There was a ceaseless stirring inside of him – strangely in his chest. The image of all the people that liked Ginny flashed in his head. With a frown, he pounded his pillow a little harder than necessary to make it comfortable. With a sigh, he absently wondered why the flowery scent of Ginny created a ball of tension in his stomach. He fell asleep wondering.

When he woke up the next morning, he wasn't sure how he felt. Not good, but not exactly bad either. He had had a dream, he thought with a yawn as he stretched out his arms above his head leisurely. He had been running after her, and though she was standing still, her back toward him, she seemed to be getting further and further away, almost as if he were running in the wrong direction.

But then it had morphed into something completely different. Suddenly he had found himself watching as Michael Corner drew Ginny close, and she was smiling up at the dark-haired Ravenclaw. She then turned slowly back to Harry, with her bright eyes twinkling and Michael's arms still around her shoulders.

"Harry, you won't believe it! It's the funniest thing! Michael – silly Michael thought that we were more than friends!" Her laughter echoed around him.

In the dream, Harry had opened his mouth to scream – he had no idea what he was screaming but he felt the urgent need to tell her something.

But no words came out.

Groggily, the now awake Harry trudged down the stairs, still tugging one arm through the hole of his black robes, when he spotted Ginny's scarlet hair. Hastily, he pulled on his robes and quickly ran his hands through his messy black hair, though he found himself hiding. She was speaking with a several blokes and with her back toward him. He could tell, though the blokes were trying to look casual, that they were obviously clinging to her every word. He idly felt a stir of irritation.

"So, do you want to head toward to Great Hall?" Dean asked, smiling in what Harry supposed Dean thought was a "laid-back" smile. Harry bit back a sneer.

"Alright, let me just go get my book," Ginny answered cheerfully. She turned away from them and began walking toward the girl's dorm when Harry stepped forward and stopped her.

"Ginny – about yesterday –" he jumbled quickly.

"Oh hi Harry," she said with a happy smile. He blinked, taken aback. So…she wasn't angry with him? And also, there was a sense of impending doom…hadn't she smiled like that in his dream? "What about yesterday?"

"Oh…well, you suddenly left so I thought that..." he faltered, not quite sure of himself anymore. It was strange, but when he heard her say in his dream that of course they were friends – which they most certainly were! – he had thought of how he said the exact same things when Cho was there. And when the horrible words had spilled from Ginny's mouth, he felt like he had been torn apart. Surely…she had felt that way too.

"Oh, don't worry about that," she laughed lightly. She absently pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "I had to go finish a paper – you know how harsh Snape is particularly this time of year." Then she paused with a bit of hesitation. "I hope you didn't mind that I just left."

"No, not at all!" he said quickly, embarrassed that he had been at all. "I was just worried that – I don't know, something I said, or Cho, or–"

"Don't be silly, Harry," she smiled, though it soon faded and a more serious expression graced her face. "We're good friends now, aren't we?"

"Of course!" he said, but there was a lick of panic through him.

Then she smiled with relief. "Good. I just want you to know that our friendship means a lot to me and that I wouldn't want anything in the world to change it."

"Ginny?" Seamus called out from where he and the other boys stood near the portrait hole.

"Coming!" she smiled at them before she picked up her book that had been lying near the steps of the girl's dorm. She speedily gave Harry a parting smile before she rushed off to the group.

Harry stood, rooted in the same spot, watching her hair swing behind her and Dean place his hand on her slender back to help her out of the portrait hole, and he couldn't help but wonder why, for just one moment, he had wanted nothing more than to destroy that friendship by leaning over and kissing her.

Harry raked his hand through his hair with frustration before he flung his quill onto the table. He had been in a rather bad mood all day. Apparently, despite Ron's return to good health, the boys seemed less afraid than they were before and it seemed to Harry that they were all approaching Ginny. In order to distract himself from the fact that he couldn't get near her at all the rest of the day (because whenever he saw her a crowd of blokes surrounded her), he had decided to devote himself to finding her match. One bloke was better than hundreds…

As for the strange urge he had had this morning…well, it must have been him wanting just a friendly little peck. To show how affectionate they were. To show how much he cared for her. How had Seamus described it? That was right. As a brother. A completely platonic brother.

But he had been having trouble. He picked up the parchment he had been writing on and his stormy green eyes skimmed over it quickly. He thought he wrote down everything. Then he glared at the stack of parchments beside him. So why was this so difficult?

"Hey, Harry," Hermione greeted him as she slipped into the seat in front of him. She laid out all the textbooks in her arms onto the table in front of her, prepared to study. It was rare to see her without Ron, especially since he had just been hurt the other day, but Harry supposed it was because Ron was off threatening blokes about Ginny. This thought made Harry smirk with sudden vicious pleasure.

"Hermione," he answered as he continued to peruse his paper.

"What are you looking at?" she asked curiously as she opened her Potions book. Then it occurred to Harry that she could probably give him some help – she was no Lavender or Parvari, but he felt that she was more like Ginny than the other frivolous girls.

"Hey, Hermione, you're smart," Harry said, causing her to smile wryly at him. He shoved the parchment toward her. "Surely there's someone in your repertoire like this."

Her brown eyes scanned the parchment before they widened.

"Harry…is this for that matchmaking you're doing for Ginny?" she asked slowly as she tucked a chestnut curl behind her ear.

He nodded in surprise. "She told you about it?"

He supposed that Ginny had told her because the two of them were so close. Yet he couldn't help but feel stunned. He had unconsciously thought, rather foolishly he now admitted, that it had been something that was just between Ginny and himself. He scowled at himself as he rubbed the base of his neck. He shouldn't feel upset over something so trivial.

But he was.

"You may not know it, Harry, but Ginny and I have been best friends much longer than the two of you have been," Hermione said evenly. "I was her friend when you and Ron were still ignoring her existence. I probably know her better than you do."

He felt the urge to glare angrily at her. Who was she to say that she knew Ginny better? Just because they were new friends… Harry felt a pang of guilt as he remembered the first few years he had known her without really knowing her. But still! Harry felt he knew Ginny more than Hermione was giving him credit for.

"Yeah, well…I know her now and that's all that matters," he stated firmly. Then he continued as he gestured to the pile of papers next to his elbow. "You see, here I have the list of all the blokes in Hogwarts."

"Oh dear Merlin, Harry!" She gasped sharply, her eyes bulging at the sight of the pile. Her fingers quickly flipped through them. "This…this is at least sixty pages!"

He shrugged indifferently. Had he really written that much? He hadn't realized.

"Harry, you…you barely ever finish your homework on time!"

"Yeah, well…" he fiddled with his quill. "Ginny's happiness is important to me. It's not like it can be just anybody."

"And…this is the list of what you think this Prince Charming should be like?" she asked, her gaze returning to the first sheet.

"Yeah, but I just can't seem to find him!"

She raised an eyebrow as she glanced toward the enormous pile again. Then, as her gaze returned to the list, she inquired leisurely, "Harry, who has very dark black hair?"

"Me. You know that," he said with a frown as he attempted to flatten his raven locks, but he of course failed.

"And…you grew much taller over the summer, didn't you?" she posed as her eyes examined him.

"Yeah, I think so," he blushed slightly. He had indeed grown taller. He wasn't as tall as Ron – not nearly, but he felt was at a substantially nice height.

"You look even better than you did last year too. Older…more attractive…"

"I don't think that I –" he began, turning redder.

"Come on. Who has fourth years practically stalking him down the halls in hopes of getting a glimpse?" He opened his mouth with a retort, but she continued. "And who risked his life to prevent Voldemort from gaining power from the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, and the Department of Mysteries?"

"Me…" he rubbed his head in confusion. Why was she asking this? She obviously knew the answers. In fact, it almost seemed like they were framed just for him.

"And were you scared?"

"No…" he said honestly. "I felt like I had to do it."

"Quite a hero you are, Harry. And who has a heart of gold as shown when he freed the poor, wretched house-elf Dobby from his tortuous wizarding family?"

"Me, but what's this heart of -"

"Who speaks Parseltongue – one of the rarest abilities in the wizarding world?" she pushed onward, now leaning toward him.

"Me – but only because of Voldemort. It's not like it's something I gained through my own efforts." He flushed. "I don't deserve credit for something I didn't really work for."

She nodded her head, "And there's that modesty. Just how you hate it when people notice you because you're Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. You hate having your picture taken for the Daily Prophet."

"Look, back on subject, if you're not going to help me find a guy like this – " Harry began with irritation before she calmly interrupted him again.

"And you're rubbish with girls."

"Well, n-no, I like to think that I –"

"That wasn't a question." She cleared her throat at his glower. "And who is the youngest seeker in the century who received that position by breaking several rules in order to get back for his friend a Remembrall? And who caught every golden Snitch except for when Dementors attacked him?"

"Me!" He said with vexation as he ran both his hands through his hair. "But Hermione, I don't see –"

"And the bloke whom all the Weasleys consider to be family?"

"Me! Okay, Hermione! It's me! Now will you please explain to me why you're– " and then he stopped and the blood drained away from his face. He moaned pitifully before he crumpled and let his head fall onto the pile of parchments on the table.

Hermione smiled coyly as she rose and pushed the parchment toward him.

"And so who's perfect for Ginny?"

"Me…"

Naru-chan: Ha ha! He finally knows. Hm. Now what's a Potter to do:) Review please.