The Matchmaker

Harry sat motionless, staring into her brown eyes and noticing the way her hair draped over her pale shoulders. He had a crazy urge to run a finger down her arm, wanting to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. He blinked hard, willing the thought to go away. Crazy teenage hormones, Harry thought angrily.

Harry had not spoken to Ginny since his outburst in the hallway two days ago. He assumed that she was furious with him for what he had done and how he had reacted, and he had pointedly avoided her in order to spare himself from her temper. Now it seemed that perhaps he had nothing to worry about after all. Ginny was looking at him with a somewhat guarded expression but it was not at all malicious.

"So what did you want to talk to me about, Gin?" Harry asked.

"Oh, so are we talking again now?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow. She remained sitting comfortably on the arm of the chair and pulled idly at a loose thread on her dark blue pants.

Harry was uncomfortably aware of how her shirt clung to her small frame, and the fact that there were no robes to hide her curves. Very, very nice curves. I cannot think these things about Ginny! I will not think about it, Harry resolved to himself. He shrugged. "I thought you didn't want to talk to me," he said impassively.

She looked back at him in surprise. "I was upset about what you did, but that doesn't mean I would stop talking to you," Ginny replied softly.

"I told Hermione already, it was an accident, you know," said Harry, "I didn't mean to, well, you know..."

"I know," Ginny said, "Listen, Harry, I'm really sorry about the things that I said -"

"Hey," he interrupted, "You wouldn't have said them if it wasn't true, right?"

He looked up at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. For a moment Ginny wondered if maybe he wanted her to say that she had lied. "I guess..." she started to say, but couldn't bring herself repeat the lie. "I don't know what you want me to say," she admitted, giving him a small smile.

Say it wasn't true. Say you don't think of me as a brother, Harry thought wildly. The sight of her sitting so close to him, the two of them completely alone, seemed to be making him a bit crazy. "I guess there's nothing to say. Friends again?" he asked, just wanting to forget the whole thing.

"Quite," Ginny smiled at him cheerfully. She pushed a strand of hair off of her face and shifted on the chair, starting to reach down to pick up the book that she had brought down with her and tossed on the floor earlier. Harry took this as a sign that she was getting up to leave and stopped her.

"Ginny?" he said suddenly.

"Hmm?" She sat back up and looked at him curiously.

He remembered the advice she had given him earlier. "So you think I should get out more?"

"Of course, Harry," Ginny answered, "You of all people need to have a little fun in your life. It can't be all seriousness all the time."

"So why don't you come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" The question had burst out of his mouth before Harry could stop himself. Harry looked at her anxiously, and noted the shocked expression on her face. He could not believe that he had just asked her that. What was he thinking? He covered quickly, "You know, as friends. Ron and Hermione can be so difficult to deal with sometimes. I could use a break."

Ginny's expression became unreadable again, but Harry thought she looked as if she was considering it. Suddenly Ginny yawned, squeezing her eyes closed and stretching her arms over her head, her lithe form pressing into the back of the chair. Harry's eyes wandered over areas of her body he had been trying to ignore since the moment she had sat down next to him. Snapping out of it before she could catch him, he quickly looked down at his hands. "Well," Ginny said finally, "sure! It'll be fun!"

"Great," he answered in a low voice, looking up at her again. This was getting ridiculous. He physically ached to touch her, his resolve was weakening, and yet Harry was quickly realizing that he could not get up out of the chair to leave even if he wanted to. He had to think of some way to get her to go to bed.

"Ginny, I think we should really be getting up to bed now," Harry said carefully. "It's getting very late and if Ron were to come down and see us like this, you hardly...well, you in only your pajamas - I don't think he would be very understanding."

Ginny laughed, "Oh, Harry, I'm hardly in a state of undress!"

This statement rapidly brought some very inappropriate images into Harry's mind. He thought quickly trying to think of something, anything, to get his mind off how beautifully rumpled Ginny looked and how much more beautifully rumpled he wanted to make her. Snape, Umbridge, the Dursleys, Ron coming down here right now and screaming bloody murder, he thought. Somehow he kept coming back to that one. Luckily the thought of Ron towering over him in a temper ready to bloody well kill him was enough to bring Harry back to earth.

He stood up and watched as Ginny did the same. "Ginny, maybe we should just meet in Hogsmeade on Saturday, instead of leaving together from here? I don't want Ron to think --"

"That we're going on a date," Ginny finished for him, her face expressionless. "That's fine."

Harry gave her a relieved grin. They were standing now, looking at each other. Harry was trying to tear himself away from her gaze to leave when Ginny suddenly started to slowly move toward him. Harry froze, wanting more than anything to move toward her but afraid of what would happen if he did. And then he felt the cool brush of her arms sliding around his neck, and he realized that she was even softer than he had imagined. And then she was hugging him tightly, his face being tickled by her fiery hair. Shocked, Harry responded by wrapping his arms around her waist as she whispered, "I'm so glad we got everything straightened out."

He held her too long, enjoying the feel of having Ginny in his arms. She was small and soft and warm and real. A few people had hugged Harry in his life, like Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, but he had never before had such a feeling of never wanting to let go. It felt so good with her so close, pressed up against him.

She backed away from him finally, releasing him, and Harry stared into her warm brown eyes, using every last bit of his willpower to keep his hand from reaching up to stroke her face. His body was on fire again, and he had to get away from her before he did something he would not be able to regret. "Goodnight," Harry said as he turned and walked swiftly up the stairs and down the hallway to his room.

Ginny watched him walk away, more confused now than she had been before, if that was possible. It had taken everything in her to remain calm and detached, all the while wanting to reach out and touch his hand, his hair, anything. In the end she hadn't been able to resist. What had she been thinking by hugging him like that? Luckily, Harry didn't seem to mind. And was it her imagination or had it lasted just a bit too long? Telling herself she was reading too much into things, Ginny reached down to pick up her book and began to slowly head up the stairs to her room.

And if a few minutes alone in the common room hadn't been hard enough, Ginny thought, now I've got to spend a whole day with him in Hogsmeade! The prospect was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Ginny wished that she could get out of it, but she didn't want to hurt Harry's feelings. She needed to get over this crazy feeling Harry was giving her. But maybe Hogsmeade would be a good thing. Maybe the best way to get over Harry would be to spend more time with him. Like when she was little and afraid of water, and her father had told her to just jump in with both feet.

Ginny slipped quietly into her room and tiptoed to her bed. She would obviously not be getting much sleep tonight. It was extremely late, and she thanked the gods that she didn't have any tests the next day. Ginny silently returned her book to her bag and got into bed, remembering Harry's face as he had said goodnight to her. There was something in his eyes that had made her think... It was ridiculous to even think it. I'm kidding myself! Ginny thought as she drifted off to sleep, dreaming about all the things she wished had happened with Harry in the common room.

Ginny never would have imagined that in another part of the tower, Harry was having quite similar dreams.