HARRY

Harry hadn't spent this much time around Ginny Weasley since he realized that he fancied her.

In the last weeks of term, he'd begun to take notice of her each time she entered a room. Long vibrant hair dancing behind her. It was increasingly hard to concentrate on his studies whenever she was even remotely close to him. He'd hear her laugh and automatically look up to see who she was with and what they had said. Or he'd hear the timber of her voice and close his eyes to better make out what she was saying.

But other than practice, he didn't have much personal interaction with her. Which he supposed was a blessing to help him process what was happening. Cope with the almighty battle in his head of "She's Ron's sister" mixed with intrusive and imaginative scenarios of the two of them alone together. Despite this internal back and forth, he couldn't help feeling pulled to enter conversations. Or even simply be around her, hoping she'd take some notice of him too.

He had a faint hope that his feelings would simply vanish, along with the monster that roared in his chest whenever she interacted with Dean. At Hogwarts, he had Quidditch, Dumbledore lessons, Malfoy and schoolwork to keep him occupied. But here in the Burrow, there was little distraction. Once he had told Ron about Malfoy and they discussed it, there was not much left to say.

"Wish we could play Quidditch," said Ron, gazing longingly at the makeshift pitch getting doused with heaps of snow.

"Yeah," said Harry, laying on the floor and tossing and catching the Weasley's old beaten up Quaffle to himself. "But it'd be just you, me and Ginny. Can't play with three."

"We've got Fred and George."

"True, that would've made Hermione's day, eh?"

"How is she - er - doing, anyway?" Ron asked, trying and failing to make his question sound casual.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Ginny shot into the room and quickly snagged the Quaffle from Harry out of mid air. She collapsed on the living room couch and began spinning it in her hands.

"Then we'd be five, would still need another," said Ginny, having clearly been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Bill?" offered Harry.

"Nah, he'd be as bad as Hermione."

"Perhaps we could ask Fleur to play," said Ron, suddenly looking with great interest to see if she was present. Harry shared a smirk with Ginny, who rolled her eyes and threw the Quaffle hard at her brother. He just barely caught it before it went through the glass window.

"And risk breaking a nail? Fat chance," said Ginny.

"Well, I dunno, she was chosen by the Goblet of Fire," said Harry fairly. "Got to have a bit of toughness to her."

"You too?"

"Just saying, she faced a dragon. And that lake was pretty … eerie," said Harry.

"If she's so brave and smart, why can't she learn 'Eeenglish' from a book? And stop taking up ninety percent of my bedroom with her dresses."

The three started casually passing the Quaffle to each other across the room. "Seeing as she didn't come back to the room last night," said Ginny in undertones. "Looks like you two have competition. I don't want to shock you, but she may be shagging her actual fiance."

Ron's face turned the color of his hair and his reached just missed the Quaffle, allowing it to smash straight into the Christmas tree. He ducked to retrieve it, several ornaments falling in the process.

Harry felt himself blush slightly and averted his gaze. But he simply shrugged. "He can have her. I was just saying, the Tournament was no joke. I'd say the same for Krum."

"Oh, don't get me started on Vicky," said Ron, returning to his seat with the acquired Quaffle. He threw it much harder than he'd intended, and the Quaffle soared in a dangerous trajectory towards the fire, but Ginny gracefully reached up and caught it with one hand. "Her way, he's who Hermione would've taken to the stupid Slug Club Party."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, "Is that really what you think?"

"She was about to ask you, Ron," Harry said so quietly they just barely made it out. "Until you went and…"

"Started trying to suck Lavender's soul from her body." Harry snorted in laughter and tossed a lazy pass to Ginny.

"Yeah, well, you can go … shove off," Ron muttered in response to Ginny's hard stare.

They continued passing the Quaffle, changing directions every few turns. Several times, Harry caught himself appreciating how Ginny arched her back to better reach a pass. Or how she'd kick a leg out to balance herself. All while laying flat on her back on the couch, hair cascading in all directions, seemingly glowing from the mixture of light from the fire and Christmas lights.

"On the subject. Pavarti said that she was hoping you'd take her to Slughorn's Party, Harry." Ginny smirked in his direction.

"That's rich. She told the whole school what a horrible date he was to the Yule Ball." said Ron. "But I still don't understand it, Harry. You could have taken anyone. But you took Luna Lovegood."

"I'm glad I went with Luna!" Harry shot back. "We had a nice time."

Ron's face was incredulous. "You can't mean you fancy-"

"No! I just - we just - we had a nice time," Harry spluttered. "She made all these very Luna observations and I got a laugh out of it."

"Well, there must have been someone you wanted to take," Ginny said, eying him. His stomach did a backflip and something in his mind screamed at him to avoid her eye contact. Harry couldn't think of anything to say, so he simply, rather unconvincingly, shook his head.

"Yeah, you haven't talked to any girls since the whole Cho thing," Ron.

"I talk to girls!" Harry said defensively.

"Barely."

Fred and George sauntered into the room, both taking bites out of one of Ginny's massive and almost lethal Christmas biscuits.

"What are we discussing?" Fred asked.

"Harry's love life."

"Fascinating!"

"We were not," Harry said fiercely. "But while I'm thinking about it, will you two please stop selling Romilda Vane love potions? She's been trying to slip me something for weeks," said Harry."

"Oh you know her? Yes, she is a persistent one," said George.

"But Harry, she's a loyal customer, you understand. But we'll stop selling to her... if you tell us who the lucky lady is."

"No one."

"C'mon Harry, you can tell us."

"Or, is it a lucky lad? There's nothing wrong with that, Harry."

"I know! I'm not - it's not like - that's just not -" Harry took a deep breath. "That's not what I'm into."

"What are you into, Harry?" Ginny asked smoothly, making his heart race. At that exact moment, Lupin and Mr. Weasley passed through the room to take a seat on the edge of the kitchen. Able to hear their conversation in the living room. Giving an audience to his humiliation.

"Bloody hell," Harry said, dropping his head into his hands and shaking his head.

"All we've got to go on is that Cho Chang girl," said Fred.

"Did you celebrate your one year anniversary of your smooch?" To which both Fred and George started making kissy faces and smacking noises.

"But no, George. Ginny told us he ditched her ages ago."

"So there must be someone new. Who has the Chosen One chosen?"

"After all, he's the one who fought off You-Know-Who with only the power of love."

"I'm leaving," said Harry, standing up quickly and heading for the stairs.

"Come back, Harry!"

"Where're you going?!"

"The Dursley's."

Harry collapsed on the camp bed in Ron's room. Skin itchy and exceedingly warm due to the conversation he had just left. He ripped off his Christmas jumper and threw it on the floor in frustration.

Once again he tried to convince himself that perhaps this feeling didn't mean what he thought it did. Perhaps it was just that he was protective of her, that she was a part of the family who effectively adopted him.

But hearing the way she said "What are you into, Harry?" sent electric shocks up his spine, rendering his mind numb. That had to mean something.

What else could it mean, you idiot.

He tried to think back to when he fancied Cho. Did it feel the same that time? He remembered the way his stomach swooped when Cho had spoken to him, or the way she looked the night of the Yule Ball, and she was kind to him when first launching the D.A.

Of course it did not feel the same. What did he even know about Cho? Or she about him? She never got the chance to tell him anything about herself because she dissolved into a watery mess during each conversation.

It was different with Ginny. It was like watching the sunrise. Glowing soft at first but growing ever brighter, illuminating everything around him. Bringing his attention to things he'd never bothered to notice before. Her hair, her freckles, her damn hands with that Quaffle. They were just details he'd begun picking up on along the way. But now that he saw them, he couldn't look away. She was warmth and laughter. It was intoxicating.

Hearing himself, he groaned and turned over to stuff his face in the pillow.

She has a boyfriend. She's your mate's sister. She has a boyfriend.

On one hand, Dean was a good bloke. On the other, what the hell did she see in him? Could she joke with Dean like she did with him? Had he noticed how bloody good she was at Quidditch? That she'd gotten so good that she rarely dropped a pass or missed a goal? Did he notice the smell of her hair?

Of course Dean had. He was closer to her hair every day than he, Harry, had ever been.

Harry shut his eyes harder. He felt the pain of his glasses driving into the bridge of his nose, but did nothing to alleviate it.

He heard a soft knock at the door, "Harry?"

"Yeah? Come in," his voice croaked.

Ginny opened the door and peaked around the door. "Oh! Are you taking a nap?"

"Er -"

"I just wanted to show you something before you sleep," she said, opening the door further. Harry's mind froze. She stepped into the room cradling Arnold in her hand and sat cross legged in the center of the room. Both of them were silent, Harry at a loss for what to say or do.

Suddenly a soft melodic tune was coming from Arnold, sounding uncannily like A Cauldron of Hot Strong Love by Celestina Warbeck. Ginny's face split into a wide grin.

"Luna always told me that they were known to sing on Boxing Day!" she started humming along to the tune. She lowered Arnold gently to the floor and he started rolling around the room, happily emitting his music. "I've been watching him all day, waiting to see if he actually would."

Harry crawled off his bed and lowered himself to the floor. "Cool," he smiled as Arnold rolled around him, and tickled the skin on his hand. Arnold's song continued to grow louder. "Can we teach him a different song, though, you reckon?"

"No, this is my favorite song now," she shook her head, making wisps of hair fall out of her long braid. She began softly singing the lyrics and swaying side to side.

"Oi!" said Ron, entering his room. "What the bloody hell are you doing up here?"

"Rude."

"This is my room!" Due to the loud interruption, Arnold stopped singing and quickly rolled back into Ginny's hand. She propped him on her shoulder, stuck her tongue out at Ron and left the room.

"That thing gives me the creeps," said Ron, collapsing on his own bed.

Harry couldn't help feeling slightly more cheerful, even if he did have A Cauldron of Hot Strong Love stuck in his head for the rest of the day.