"Are you and Ron's sister... you know, together?" Dean asked casually, catching Harry alone in the second-year boys' dormitory.
Heat crept up Harry's neck. The question caught him off guard. "What? No! We're just friends," he managed to say, the words feeling both true and inadequate at the same time.
"Really?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "Because you two seem… close."
Harry scrambled for an explanation. "We've been spending some time together, but that's it. We're just friends."
Deep down, however, Harry felt a pang of wrongness as the words left his mouth. He didn't deserve someone like Ginny, with her warmth and bravery. He'd never even imagined himself in a relationship, let alone one with someone amazing like her.
Dean nodded thoughtfully, then his face lit up with a new idea. "So… do you think you could, uh, introduce me to her? Like, properly? I mean, I see her around and all, but I've never really talked to her."
Harry stiffened. The idea of Ginny and Dean together unsettled him in a way he didn't fully understand. "I don't know," he said awkwardly. "She's, uh… pretty busy, you know, with school and everything."
Dean leaned forward, flashing a friendly grin. "Come on, mate. Just a quick introduction. You're friends with her, right? It'd mean a lot."
Harry hesitated, struggling to come up with an excuse. He hated being put on the spot like this. Dean wasn't being mean - just persistent - and Harry found it hard to say no when someone was friendly and earnest.
"Please, Harry," Dean added, his tone almost pleading. "You'd be doing me a big favour. She's just… well, she's amazing, isn't she?"
Harry swallowed hard, his chest tightening. The idea of Ginny finding Dean charming made him uneasy, though he couldn't figure out why. He looked away, his voice betraying his discomfort. "I... guess I could," he finally mumbled, hating himself for the words as they left his mouth.
Dean's face broke into a broad grin. "Thanks, mate! That's a huge favour. I owe you one."
Harry nodded, a forced smile on his lips, already regretting his inability to refuse. He could only hope that Ginny wouldn't take a liking to Dean.
Over the next few days, Harry found himself dodging Dean at every turn. Whenever Dean asked about Ginny, Harry would mutter something vague - bad timing, too much homework, she was in the library. He ducked into crowds, lingered in classrooms and took alternate staircases, all in the hopes of delaying the inevitable.
Dean's patience was fraying. By Wednesday, his tone had an edge. "You're not avoiding me, aren't you, Harry?" he said, half-joking but with a flicker of irritation in his eyes. Harry forced a laugh, muttering about a non-existent meeting with McGonagall and bolted before Dean could call his bluff. He didn't know why he was stalling - only that the thought of Dean chatting up Ginny made his insides twist.
Friday morning, Harry trudged toward the Great Hall, the scent of bacon curling through the air. Ahead, Ginny's red hair glinted under the enchanted ceiling's false sunlight, her laughter ringing out as she walked with Emily and Mira. His steps faltered, pulse quickening. Maybe he could warn her about Dean - nothing obvious, just a nudge. He caught up as she turned, her brown eyes locking onto his.
"Morning," he said, voice hitching. "Er… sleep well?"
Ginny smirked, tilting her head. "Well enough. You look like a troll's been using you as a punching bag, though."
Harry rubbed his neck, a grin tugging at his lips despite himself. "Something like that. Listen, I…"
"Hey, Harry!" Dean's voice rang out from behind, sharp and insistent. "You forgot your Potions book!"
Harry spun around, stomach plummeting. They didn't even have Potions today!
"Oh… Thanks, Dean," he said, taking the book with forced politeness.
Dean stepped forward, his grin wide but his eyes darting with a hint of nerves. "Can't blame you for forgetting things with such a beautiful girl around." He turned to Ginny, sidelining Harry, Mira and Emily entirely. "Hi, I'm Dean Thomas - Harry's mate. You're Ron's sister, right? Been dying to meet you properly. You're even prettier up close."
Harry clenched his jaw. Mira, surprisingly, shot Dean a look that could curdle milk. Emily stifled a squeal behind her hand. Ginny's expression was unreadable. She glanced briefly at Harry before replying.
"Yes," she said slowly, "I'm Ginny Weasley. Nice to meet you." Then she turned to Harry, a curious glint in her eye. "So, you and Thomas are good friends, Harry?"
Before Harry could answer, Dean jumped in. "Of course! We've known each other for two years, right, Harry?" He slung an arm around Harry's shoulders with practiced ease. "And call me Dean, please. We're all Gryffindors here."
Harry stiffened under the weight of Dean's arm. He'd never been close to any roommate but Ron - Seamus, Neville, Dean, they were just… there. But saying that out loud, in front of Ginny, felt too harsh. He couldn't bring himself to embarrass Dean like that. He didn't know how to navigate moments like this - years in a cupboard hadn't exactly taught him how to dodge friendly lies.
So, he forced a crooked smile and said what he knew Dean wanted to hear.
"Yeah… Dean's a great guy."
The words tasted like ash. He hated himself for it.
Ginny tilted her head, her expression softening. "Well, if Harry trusts you, I hope we'll get along, Dean."
Her words, innocent and warm, twisted the knife deeper. Harry's chest tightened, a bitter sting he couldn't shake.
"Well, nice meeting you, Ginny," Dean said, his smile smooth, confident - like he'd rehearsed it. Harry's stomach twisted - why couldn't he talk to her like that? "Gotta head to class with Harry and the lads. Catch you later?"
Ginny shrugged, her tone flat. "Sure, see you." Her indifference was a lifeline and Harry clung to it. Maybe he'd been wrong to worry - maybe Dean wasn't her type. He really wanted to speak to her alone.
But Dean was already steering him away and Harry found himself trailing behind him awkwardly, clutching the Potions book like a complete idiot. Did Dean know he'd wanted to warn Ginny about him when he arrived? No, that was paranoid.
At least it was over. Brief and awkward, but nothing he couldn't handle.
That illusion didn't last long through.
When later Harry stepped into the common room after Quidditch practice, sweat still clinging to his skin, he froze in the doorway. There they were - Ginny and Dean - sitting near the fire in matching armchairs, leaning in slightly as they talked. Dean said something and Ginny smiled.
Harry's stomach fell. He had no idea what he was planning to do, only that he wanted to walk over and… say something. Make sure everything was fine. But what, exactly?
Before he could figure it out, he caught a whiff of himself and winced. No way was he was letting Ginny smell that. He turned on his heel and practically ran to the showers.
When he returned, Dean was gone. Ginny was still by the fire, now curled up with Daisy and Mira, speaking in hushed tones. Harry lingered in the doorway, watching her from across the room. Then, with a quiet sigh, he crossed over and sank into a seat beside Neville, pulling out his Herbology homework like a shield.
But he couldn't focus. His eyes kept drifting to Ginny across the room. When their gazes met - hers bright with amusement, probably at something Emily had said - he flushed and quickly looked down at his parchment.
He'd only managed two lines.
'Abyssinian Shrivelfigs are those weird jumping mushrooms, right? No, those were Leaping Toadstools,' he sighed and scratched the two lines out.
Harry's quill stalled. With a sigh, he shoved his homework aside and glanced at Neville, who was still buried in his Herbology essay. No point trying now...
Tomorrow, he'd do better.
Talk to her.
It'd be fine.
The next morning, Harry trudged into the Great Hall beneath a ceiling swirling with grey clouds. He spotted Ginny at the Gryffindor table, having breakfast with her roommates and three first-year boys.
He recognized Colin, the one who kept taking pictures of him. The other two - a dark-haired boy and a blond one - he didn't know. Both were hanging on Ginny's every word, vying for her attention, though Ginny seemed far more engaged in conversation with her female friends.
Since when were there so many annoying boys around Ginny?
Still, he couldn't just walk up to a group of first-years, could he? What if Ginny thought he was weird?
At least Dean, sitting nearby with Seamus, Ron and Neville, looked just as irritated by the two simpering boys as Harry did. That made it feel a little better… somehow.
"Hey, Harry, could you lend me your Nimbus 2000 on Sunday?" Dean asked, cornering him the next day. "I know you've got Quidditch training on Saturday, but Sunday should be fine, right? If you do me this favour, I'll do your History of Magic homework for two weeks - no, three weeks! How about it?"
Harry was just relieved Dean wasn't asking anything Ginny-related again. He hesitated. The idea of someone else flying his broom made him uneasy, though he'd let Ron use it a few times before.
"Alright," Harry said reluctantly. "But please be careful, okay?"
He didn't like it. The broom was the most expensive thing he owned and without it, he couldn't even play Quidditch. So why couldn't he say no? He just hated confrontation. Standing up to Malfoy or other bullies was one thing, but saying no to a friend? That was different.
Not even an hour later, he regretted his decision... Regret wasn't a big enough word.
He wanted to bash his head against the Gryffindor table the moment he saw Dean stride up to Ginny.
"Morning, Ginny! Got plans this weekend?" Dean greeted cheerfully. "I thought maybe we could fly around the Quidditch pitch for a bit on Sunday. I heard from your brothers you like flying and I happen to have a Nimbus 2000 you could use."
Harry just wanted to die.
"Are you asking me on a date?" Ginny asked neutrally, while Emily beside her squealed in delight.
"And if I was?" Dean asked, sounding far too flirty for a someone Harry's age. How did he even manage that? Why couldn't Harry do the same?
Ginny glanced from Dean to Harry, her expression questioning. "This is your broom, isn't it, Harry? Are you okay with me using it to fly with Dean?" she asked carefully.
What was he supposed to say to that?
'No, Ginny, you're not allowed to use my broom.'
Yeah, right. As if.
"Yeah… Dean already asked me," Harry muttered, hoping no one could hear how miserable he felt.
How could it possibly get worse?
Well, on his way back to the Gryffindor Tower, he was cornered by the twins - just his luck.
"Well, well, if it isn't Harrykins!"
He froze. Fred and George stepped out from behind a tapestry with identical grins.
"We need to have a word about you and Gin-Gin," said Fred, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders.
Harry blinked. "What?"
George nodded gravely. "We don't really know what Gin-Gin wants…"
"Nor is it our business," Fred added, his expression all mock solemnity.
"But we'd never hear the end of it from Mum," George continued, "if we didn't step in as the respectable, venerable and esteemed older brothers we are."
"Very esteemed!" Fred agreed. "So, Harrykins…"
Harry could feel the tips of his ears heating up. "What are you on about?"
Fred leaned in, lowering his voice as though they were about to discuss state secrets.
"What are your intentions toward our dear sister?"
Harry choked on air. "My what?"
George folded his arms. "Because once, we thought she had a crush on you…"
Fred nodded. "Then it looked like you had a crush on her while she moved on…"
"And now," George said, raising an eyebrow, "you're sending other blokes her way?"
Harry stared between them, lost for words. "You mean Dean?"
"Are there others too?" Fred asked innocently.
"I was just being nice!" Harry blurted. His face was burning now.
"Sure you were, mate."
"Real gentlemanly of you," the twins said together.
Desperate to change the subject, Harry muttered, "If you two really want to protect Ginny, you could prank that first-year Slytherin - Harper, I think his name was. He tried hexing her last week."
Both twins' eyes lit up with identical mischief.
"Harper, you say?" George asked, rubbing his hands together.
"Consider it handled," Fred said with mock solemnity.
Before Harry could breathe a sigh of relief, Fred clapped him on the back. "Just don't break Ginny's heart, alright? Or we'll have to prank you next."
"And we wouldn't want to do that to our favourite Gryffindor Seeker," George added, grinning.
They said it lightly, but the words lingered after they sauntered off, still chuckling to themselves.
Harry stood frozen in the empty corridor, pulse hammering. He told himself it was ridiculous - they were just teasing, like always. But did Ginny really have a crush on him once? He remembered the shy, blushing girl he'd first met at the Burrow. His Ginny was totally different - like a new person.
'Ever since Halloween,' he thought with guilt.
But the thought of Ginny having feelings for him still made his stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with guilt at all.
And did he have a crush on Ginny, like the twins said? Sure, she was amazing, beautiful, intelligent… He missed her when he wasn't near her and the thought of her finding a boyfriend and throwing him away made him nauseous.
But that was normal, right? She was the only person he had. It was normal to miss your best friend, to find her beautiful - her brown eyes, her full lips, to want to kiss… What?
What had he just thought?
Oh Merlin. He did have a crush on Ginny, didn't he? Oh no…
Immediately he saw her rejecting him - laughing at the idea of them dating, cutting him out of her life. No. That wasn't Ginny. She wouldn't be cruel. She would be kind about it – gently rejecting him…
He wanted to die… Where was Voldemort when you needed him?
Like this, the dreaded weekend of Ginny's date with Dean - on his broom, of all things - approached.
On Sunday, Harry sat glumly at the Gryffindor table, picking at his porridge. He didn't feel like eating.
"Hey ho, Harry! Why so gloomy?" Ginny's voice broke him out of his thoughts. Without him realizing, she had sat down next to him.
Her face was so close - her beautiful eyes, her perfect skin…
'I love you.'
"I love…" his mouth almost followed his thoughts.
"You love what?" Ginny tilted her head, curious about his aborted sentence.
"Porridge! I love this porridge…" he blurted, saying the first thing that came to mind.
"Porridge?"
He wanted to sink through the floor and hide in a hole.
"Well, you can have mine then. I'm not a big fan of it, to be honest, but if you love it." Ginny smiled, her eyes twinkling.
'Well done, Potter.'
For a while, after the porridge disaster, he awkwardly talked with Ginny. And now he had to actually eat the porridge too, so she wouldn't realize something was wrong.
Then Dean arrived with two brooms and the two of them headed down to the Quidditch pitch.
Harry, meanwhile, went back to the boys' dormitory. He didn't feel like doing anything.
When he sat down on his bed, he remembered his Invisibility Cloak…
What if Dean did something to Ginny? She would be all alone with him.
So he decided to go to the Quidditch pitch under his cloak - just to make sure she was okay.
Yes, that was the only reason. She was his best friend, after all. This wasn't strange.
He watched them fly through the air, sitting in the grass by the Quidditch pitch.
To his surprise, Ginny was very good. Not just because her broom - his Nimbus 2000 - was faster than Dean's, but because she was clearly the better flier.
He stayed there for about an hour, even though it felt much longer.
In the end, Ginny landed nearby, followed by Dean.
She turned, her back to Harry.
"It was fun, Dean. I really missed flying - I just hadn't realized how much."
"You're welcome, Ginny. I had fun too. You're really an amazing flier," Dean said a bit awkwardly.
"If you want, we could do this again sometime. Um… do you maybe want to walk around the lake for a while?" he asked hopefully.
"Ah, sorry, Dean. I still have to write a Potions essay and promised my roommates I'd meet them in the library… but maybe some other time?"
'Was she rejecting him?' Harry thought hopefully.
"Yeah, sure," Dean said, sounding unsure. Maybe Ginny was telling the truth?
He held out his hand. "I can take the brooms back," he offered, but Ginny shook her head. She said she'd rather give Harry's broom back personally.
After that, Dean awkwardly said goodbye, while Ginny - for some reason - stayed where she had landed instead of walking back to the castle.
She was just standing a few feet away from where the still-invisible Harry sat. He had no idea what to make of the situation.
"You know…" Ginny began, speaking to the seemingly empty pitch around her. Then she turned, looking straight at where Harry was sitting.
"When you're invisible, you still press down the grass."
What?
"But thank you for letting me use your broom, Harry."
She held out the broom and Harry - still in shock - took it, mumbling a quiet, "You're welcome," on reflex.
Ginny beamed at him, winked and with a giggle walked away.
What had just happened?