House: Ravenclaw

Year: 6th Year (Standing in for ACoolerUsername)

Category: Themed (Ravenclaw, the color blue)

Prompt(s): December 24th, Glance

W/C: 3,341 (Google), 3,340 (Word)

Notes: Could be canon compliant, but could also be au to some readers.

Read & Enjoy

Glance.

Did he see me looking at him?

Glance.

He definitely saw me that time.

Glance.

I've got to stop looking at him. Bloody hell, I've got to stop.

"Ginny?" Hermione asks and it jars me out of my crazy brain. My crush on Harry Potter doesn't hold me back in any way. I've dated other boys who are not Harry Potter. But the fact that I refer to them as "not Harry Potter," well…

Glance.

It's not healthy to refer to them as "not Harry Potter" boys, is it?

"Ginny!" Hermione says more harshly this time. "Are you even listening?"

Instead of trying to sneak another peak at Harry sitting on the floor playing chess with Ron, I hang my head low and avert my eyes. I shouldn't care about him so much when I've never had any reason to believe that he shares my affection. He's nice to me. But Harry is nice to everyone, so what does that really mean in the grand scheme of things?

"No," I admit to her. "I was distracted." Distracted by a handsome boy with a lightning bolt scar, trouble following him at every turn, and an oversized blue plaid shirt.

Hermione doesn't get this way about Ron, at least not as badly as far as I can tell. I know she has a crush on him because she watches after him with glossy eyes when she thinks nobody can see her. It's cute. I think they'd be great together if they could ever stop bickering.

"Should we go elsewhere, then?" Hermione proposes, shortness in her voice and a thick breath of irritation. I know we ought to, so I agree to go upstairs. Though, I let her go ahead of me. When she gets to the landing, I can get a good look at him one more time...

One – last – glance.

Merlin's beard, what's wrong with me?

I don't know why, but, when I was little, I wanted everything done in blue. Blue curtains, blue rugs, blue banners. Honestly, I think I secretly went through a period of time where I wanted to be a Ravenclaw. Thought it would set me apart from my brothers, I suppose, though I know I've always been a Gryffindor at heart.

Now, someone who should've been a Ravenclaw is Hermione Granger. She's talking about something she's read in this book she's borrowing from the library. It's about spellcasting and creating new spells. She finds it thoroughly fascinating. Normally I would've been intrigued, but it's the holidays.

And my mind is still on the boy hiding his blue plaid shirt.

"Maybe I should create a spell that gets your mind off of him," I hear her saying, though I don't fully register it. I'm looking all around my room, thinking about what it would be like if Harry Potter sat on my bed – talking to me about, well, decidedly not spellcasting. "Ginny?"

"Sorry," I scoff, at myself rather than at her. "I'm not even trying, am I?"

Hermione laughs, and she's just so sweet. I've heard the things people say about her, that she's a tired old hag with the worst hair a girl could ask for, but I find her to be perfectly lovely. So what if her hair frizzes in every direction, and if her brown eyes sink into her face a little after studying all night for a test. Nobody has half the work ethic she does, nor are they half as brilliant. I couldn't ask for a better friend.

"When do you plan on telling him how you feel, exactly?" Hermione asks, her teeth poking out past her lips. The problem is, I think, that in her head – a lot of these things sound be easy. I want to ask her when she plans on telling Ron how she feels about him, but I know that's not kind. It's a low blow and I am not that kind of friend.

I shrug in response. When the silence lingers, I figure I should put words to it for her. "He's the only person who has seen me when I'm weak. I'm afraid I'm just his best friend's weak, little sister. The girl he had to save from the Chamber of Secrets."

"Oh, Ginny," she hums, as if this is somehow an invalid thing to believe. It is. She's right. Still, a small part of me believes in it so fervently that I can't not consider the possibility. "That's been three years ago! Harry couldn't care less about what you were like when you were eleven."

Three years. The difference between eleven and fourteen. Supposedly. So why doesn't it feel that different to me? I can tell the physical difference in my appearance. I'm more educated and stronger. But am I really changed? I still love quidditch and practical jokes; I still love the color blue and the boy band Snitches; and I'm still crushing hard on Harry Potter.

I glance at my door. The idea of him walking into my room feels so impossible that I sigh in defeat. He'll never walk through the door, his green eyes and his blue shirt, his lightning bolt scar. "Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"December twenty-fourth? The second most fun day of the year? Are you really asking me that?" Hermione teases, my already knowing that Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are her favorite holidays of the year. Usually she'd be spending the day with her own family, but the dangers are too high this year. Fortunately, she's been more than happy to share in our family festivities. And, honestly, I'm so glad she's here.

I grin ear-to-ear at her. "Do you want to get the fun started right now?"

Hermione rolls her eyes. She knows what I'm going to suggest, I'm sure of it, but she's not going to stop me. "Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking fireworks in the twins' bathroom upstairs. Mum would love to see them tricked for a change, and I know she needs the laugh," I suggest, part of my spirits lifting just at the idea of it. Luckily, Hermione readily agrees, so long as she can see to the safety precautions. Nobody else needs to get hurt, after all. I nod curtly at her before we get up and get to work.

Today is December twenty-fourth. It's finally Christmas Eve! Since we've never had the money for everyone to have tons of presents, we don't ever open a present early. Instead, we play games and share our favorite stories from the past year. It's all about family.

And this year – Harry is spending Christmas with us.

Everything has to be perfect: the Living Room Quidditch match, the game of telephone (I've already harassed Fred and George to play it the right way), and our afternoon Christmas carols. I've put on my favorite dress, blue coincidentally enough, and my hair is brushed neatly down my back – Hermione helped. "Good morning!"

I whip around to find Fred and George standing in my doorway. I almost forgot that about my prank. They must not have used their bathroom last night. "Morning," I say, turning to let my hair hide my grin.

"Our sister, you are," Fred says with a laugh.

"Indeed," George follows, his voice somewhat louder. When I turn to look at them again, sure I can keep my lips in a straight line now, I see that George is the closer one. I'm honestly not any better at telling them apart than mum.

I point at them. "I think I've made my point?"

They amble into my bedroom, dressed in green and purple and gold, ever the attention seekers. "You are certainly a worthy opponent, we'll give you that."

"So no trouble today?" I say with air of amusement dancing on my tongue. They've never really get me because we've been at this for years. I've learned some of my best tricks from them. And I've had the chance to make them better. They each give me a thumbs up to show that they agree to be on their best behavior. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," they croon together, eyebrows arching and teeth showing behind curled lips. Usually this is a terrible sign, but I'm not worried. I'm closer to the twins than the others are and we have this quiet respect between us three. Without my saying, they know why today is so important to me.

Just as quickly as they've come, they're gone again.

It's just as well. I've got a perfect Christmas Eve waiting for me downstairs.

Christmas Eve and Harry Potter.

"Come on, I want to be on the blue team!" Ron says, whining that Harry's been picked before him. He is also making a fuss about being on the same team as his best friend. But it's not just him. I haven't been picked yet either. Everyone who has played quidditch at school gets picked first. This isn't new information. I can't believe he's making a scene about it.

His immaturity opens a window of opportunity for me, though, and I climb right through.

"Shut up," I groan; playing it cool so I'll be on Harry's team. "You sound desperate."

It's a funny sort of twist considering I'm also desperate to be on Harry's team. I'm just not acting like it. I don't even sound it what with my insulting Ron and pretending I couldn't care less.

But I could.

I could care less.

But I won't.

"I'm picking Ginny. You can't rely on him forever," Bill says as he covers his face with his hand. Percy throws his hands up in reaction to Bill's choice, complaining about Ron's complaining, and I just wander up to Harry to take the last blue bandana. I hope my smile isn't too big.

Rolling my eyes, I apologize for how terribly this is already going. "Big families are a pain," I say.

"I think it's great, actually."

"Do you really?" I ask, unsure if he's being serious or not. That's the thing about my crush on him, it can only be that – a crush. I don't know anything about him except what I see in my stolen glances.

"Absolutely!" He smiles, which makes me smile. I have to drop my eyes to hide the blush that I think might be forming on my cheeks. "I am so excited to spend Christmas with your family. It feels like I finally belong somewhere."

Biting my lip, part of me hurts in a way I've never felt before – in a way that is brand new and totally unwanted. Despite being the only girl in a sea of boys, I've never felt separate from my brothers. I wanted to stand out and be different, but I'm as 'Weasley' as they come. I am an actual hodge podge of everyone else in my family.

The idea of Harry not fitting in aches, and my heart feels like it's being strangled. "You'll always belong here, Harry. You're basically part of our family now."

I offer a grin as I finally begin tying the bandana around my neck like a scarf. Harry reaches up and straightens it unexpectedly. In order to catch my breath, I have to keep talking to hide that his proximity has me flustered. "You saved our dad, after all. Harry Potter, honorary Weasley!"

"Thanks, Ginny," he says, glancing around the room at the madness. Everyone is shaking their hands and telling Ron what-for about his attitude. Harry wanders into the crowd to calm his best friend down while Hermione returns to my side, her red bandana tied into a bow around her ponytail. I've never seen her look so excited to do sport. I think being picked ahead of Ron and I gave her a confidence boost. I'm glad for her.

We watch from afar, debating how long it'll be until everyone decides to settle it with a match of Living Room Quidditch - like we're supposed to be doing. "They've made me a keeper. Either they're very confident in my skills or don't trust me to actually do anything else."

"I reckon you could be a decent beater. Surely Ron pisses you off enough to channel it into the game," I remark, really believing she could repurpose that frustration on the pitch. Hermione giggles before giving me a push, saying that she'd rather leave the sports to me. Honestly, I don't even know if I'm that good. I've only ever played at home with my brothers. All of them have played, and if I can keep up with them, I guess I could be a decent player.

Suddenly, Harry wanders over with a red-faced Ron, his hair blending in with his skin now. Harry sighs. "Will you trade with him?"

My heart sinks and, all at once, I feel bluer than my dress. I don't want to stand against Harry Potter. I want to stand with him.

"Fine," I say with a flat tone, reaching to take my scarf off when Fred and George jump up behind Ron. They charm our bandanas to be different colors and then shuffle the two boys away to their team. Hermione grabs my hand and pulls me towards our bins that are meant to be goals.

The keepers have three bins and one lid, and they are allowed to move the bin lid around or use it as a shield to prevent goals from the opposing team. The chasers, then, have to deposit tin foil balls that are thrown onto the "pitch" after a goal is scored. Nobody knows where the makeshift quaffles will come from, so the chasers have to be very vigilant.

As for the beaters, they are responsible for shuffling their 'bludgers' around the room and pushing them into the chasers and keepers. The bludgers are actually people. Sirius and Remus volunteered to play these roles very enthusiastically, which was equally exciting and frightening. That leaves seekers.

And I'm apparently the seeker for our team. This means that I have to compete with Harry to accomplish the same task. Our task, of course, is capturing the snitch. The snitch is also a person, Tonks actually, and she gets to use Harry's invisibility cloak to run around the downstairs. As seekers, we have to tackle her to get our points.

This is going to be the most memorable game of Living Room Quidditch ever.

"You're the seeker?" I hear Harry ask from nearby. I didn't notice him walk up. "I guess we're rivals then."

I guess we are.

Harry Potter versus Ginny Weasley.

Red versus Blue.

Glance.

He's a hell of a seeker. If I want him to take me seriously, then I guess I'm going to have to be a better one.

My blue bandana is now functioning as an ice pack. Harry and I were chasing Tonks down the hallway towards the kitchen and somehow our feet got crossed. Harry dropped down on the stop but I went flying into the cabinets and cut open my left cheek. I should've waited for someone to check me out, but my dress flew up and everything was showing.

Harry tried to comfort me before I left, but I ran away as fast as I could manage.

My door is shut and I've buried myself beneath all my pillows and blankets.

"Worst Christmas Eve ever," I mumble, defeat washing over me. I couldn't make sure one thing went smoothly, let alone an entire day. Somewhere downstairs, Harry Potter is telling everyone that I've bit it and I've gone to my room, and they'll think I'm crying.

I'm not crying.

"Knock, knock," someone from the hall says. It's a boy.

It's not just any boy, either.

"Go away, Harry," I say as I pull the blankets over my head even further. If he comes in, I don't want him to see me like this – I don't want him to see me at all.

I don't know why I'm saying 'if' he comes in because he opens the door with almost no hesitation whatsoever, closing it behind him as well. "Are you okay?" he asks gently.

Being the mature girl that I am - I ignore him.

"Come on, this isn't like you," he says clearly, like he knows me. But, of course, he is right. This isn'tlike me at all. I don't cry about things or lock myself away in my bedroom.

"I know." I'm not sure how I've managed to say anything, let alone agree with him. I decide to peel the sheets away and glance out at him. Just as I emerge from my cocoon, I see him plopping onto my bed at my feet. "I just feel a bit off, I guess."

"I can tell," he laughs.

I could listen to that laugh for the rest of my life.

"I just wanted you to have a good time. I wanted this to be a perfect day for everyone." This declaration is flat because it is only half true. I did want today to be good for my family, for everything to go smoothly, but I wanted Harry to see us at our best. Today should've been about creating happy memories and I let it get twisted into a day about only Harry Potter.

I can see in Harry's eyes that he thinks he is more than an outsider. He thinks he's a monster too. After seeing my father's attack, I know he believes he doesn't belong here. He doesn't feel like he deserves to be happy with his friends.

But he's wrong to feel that way. "Ron tries to tell me that you're frightening."

"He would say that." I poke all the way out of my covers, still holding my blue bandana ice pack to my cheek. "I think he's more scared of who he could be if he just tried a little than he is of me."

"Oh, absolutely. Ron's brilliant when he wants to be," Harry admits.

We sit there for a moment, just the two of us in my bedroom as silence balances in the empty space between us. We are surrounded by blue walls, blue clothes, and some unspoken feeling – an aching blueness, maybe. He is sad, which makes me sad. It's all the same sorrow in the end. It starts to feel wrong, all this quiet. It's too much blue.

"Who won?" I ask, not really caring. Anything to get us talking again.

"Red," he said with a grin, carefully glancing at me. When I meet his eyes, though, he turns his gaze away nervously. "I told them you got Tonks first."

"Oh," Swinging my legs off the bed and offering my free hand to him, I decide that no matter how he takes it - I owe this to myself. Maybe this is a cowardly way to tell him how I feel, but getting it off my chest just might make the rest of the day as perfect as he deserves. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"What?" He asks while I'm pulling him to his feet. Suddenly everything feels easier. I don't know why I've been worrying about this for so long now that it's kind of out in the open. Mostly, anyway.

"What?" I ask, more confident in my 'what' than him. He seems to be considering what I've said when the biggest grin spreads out across his face.

"Cool." I'm about to ask him what that means when I think better of it. Also when he decides to correct himself. "I mean - thanks."

He says it as more of a question, but that's not what captures my attention. I think - is he? Is Harry blushing? I bite down on my tongue to prevent myself from smiling at him. But he is. He is blushing. I'm thinking - maybe - it's possible that…

He just might love me back.

What a thought - Harry Potter and me - and all our stolen glances.

Acknowledgements:

These BETA readers are the absolute bestest of the bestest because this was not a short story to BETA read and honestly such a rough piece of proper shite when I first asked for feedback. So major kudos, many digital treats to these fine people: TheCrownprincessBride, ouranose, and 2DaughtersofAthena.
Also, thanks to my husband and my son for listening to me read this aloud as I worked through the many different versions that came before the BETA reads.
I'm so lucky to have such great people on my side :)