A/N: Here's a silly, fluffy one-shot to warm you up on these cold days!

Of course, it was her bloody luck. Of course, it had to happen on this beautiful, most important day of her young life.

Her first date with Harry.

Swiping her runny nose angrily, she looked outside the window at white from snow Hogwarts grounds. She couldn't decide what she wanted more – burrow her face in a pillow and cry her eyes out from all the emotions that overwhelmed her or throw out for the same reason. Doing the two things simultaneously didn't sound bad, either.

The happy people – couples, out of everything - made her feel even worse. The knowledge that she could be one of them right now, with Harry by her side, holding her hand and teasing and….

She sniffled loudly, on the verge of tears, and immediately regretted it. From her nose, rhinitis gushed straight into her cup of hot chocolate.

She decided that the only thing she could do at the moment was wallow in self-pity and the unfairness of it all. Just when Harry came to his right senses and got his head out of his arse, and actually managed to invite her instead of drooling after Cho Chang, she suddenly caught a cold. And as if she hadn't paid already too high a price, she snotted into her beloved beverage!

That was the last chance for a bit of time alone this year. Two weeks later, they were to return to Grimmauld Place, where there wouldn't be any privacy. The whole family gathered, and one Sirius Black wouldn't give them a second of break. The teasing would be relentless, and she was sure her brothers wouldn't even give them a minute of being alone.

"Harry…" she whined in the pillow.

"Yes?" An amused voice said from beside her.

Here he was, sitting innocently, smiling in the exact same way – her lifelong crush, never-ending obsession, (hopefully) the love of her life as she liked to call him (only to herself, mind you), the reason of butterflies in her belly, many unslept nights and just as many beautiful dreams. A target to many longing stares, few of them she actually managed to drool herself (only a little (not that anyone noticed (she so desperately hoped))).

"W-what are you doing here!" She yelped, spilling her defiled drink onto herself.

Harry grinned at her, "You were being late, and Hermione had already left, so I thought I would check up on you. Scourgify," he pointed his wand at her.

Awww, he's so thoughtful! "How did you get here!" she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him, "Do you sneak into girls' dormitory often?"

"You know, brooms are a thing, right? It's not hard to fly up here if you're motivated enough." And so devoted! "As for sneaking, well, it's only your privilege."

And with that, she was dead right then and there. Killed not by a headache but by Harry bloody Potter and his charm, so sweet and smooth that she barely managed to stop herself from swooning.

Yes, swooning wouldn't do. So she - very maturely, mind you – hid her burning cheeks in the pillow, away from Harry's praying eyes.

Just three months ago, what was happening right now was unthinkable - Harry openly flirting with her, and she gracefully managing her crush in his presence. Well, except right now, but to her credit, she was caught off-guard.

Now, it'd be very Ginny-like to repost with a witty remark, yet her fog-covered brain didn't want to cooperate.

That left only one resolve

WHACK!

The pillow she was strangling herself with mare seconds ago now collided with Harry's shocked face. Violence, despite what everyone oh-so-grown-up seemed to think, was always the last-resort solution.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, and she once again seemed lost in their beauty.

"Violence, that is," he grinned, and she suddenly found herself pinned down to her bed with her hands held over her head.

Wait! When did that happen? That's unfair!

"Are you doing this on purpose?" He asked when she wriggled under him, trying to fight back, yet not really trying.

"You wish!" She spat pridefully. She would never admit that she loved it – being under him, so, so close that she was feeling the warmth of his body. If she hadn't had rhinitis, she would actually smell his oh-so-beautiful and knees-weakening smell. It might have been only a hallucination, but she thought that he started leaning his face closer to her. She closed her eyes, waiting for these oh-so-perfect lips she was waiting for so long and before long…

Oh no!

"Snrrfff!" A loud, gurgling snort got out of her nose. Ginny's eyes snapped open, and with horror saw the disgusting, wet, yellowish mucus hit Harry's face.

It was certain now. Her life was over.

"That's for sure hell of a way to put your claim on a guy," Harry said, repeating the scourging charm on himself.

Ginny whined and hid her face once again in the now-lacking one pillow cosy pile of cushions.

"You shouldn't have come."

"We were supposed to spend the day together, remember?"

"That was until I caught this!" She pointed at her yet-again full nose, "You really don't have to stay, you know," Ginny said, her voice hoarse, "You should go to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione. You don't want to catch this." She sniffled, reaching for another tissue.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "I'm not going without you." He sat on her bed and comfortably stretched his legs, "Quite comfy, isn't it?"

She looked away, her cheeks burning. He came closer, scooping her into his arms and hugging her gently.

"Really, stop!" Oh, please, don't stop. Let this moment last forever. "I will get you sick," her voice was cut off as he helpfully brought the tissue to her nose.

Harry grinned the smile that always made her swoon, turning her insides into goo and what-not, especially what her mother shouldn't know, "Let's be sick together, then." He said and leaned closer. It was the last thing she managed to register before her mind became blissful oblivion.

Thank Merlin she didn't follow Hermione's advice.