Merged Moments

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Or Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton's poem.

Naru-chan: Hello everyone! A long, long delay...I know, I'm sorry, but it's extra long! So I hope you enjoy!

Note: this reflects some of chapter 3 (I think it was) of Sweet Days of Summer, and chapter two of A Matchless Match happens in between this chapter. You should read those before this!

---

Chapter Two: Way Too Much Girl Talk

Girls are…scary…-Takuto

"He said he's going to what?" Hermione shrieked—something Ginny would have found quite amusing had her best friend been doing it at any other time. The redhead glanced around to see several people quickly turning away their heads. "Wait…wait, wait, wait…"

Hermione pressed her hand against her wrinkled forehead as she slowly lowered herself back to her seat (she had jumped up and slammed her hands on the common room table when she rose). She gnawed on her lower lip as her right hand busily tugged at her messy curls. Ginny smiled wryly at her friend. It was rare to see the brunette baffled for she usually knew everything.

Then Hermione's brown eyes pierced Ginny's eyes.

"Let me get this straight. After the fight with Ron, you stumbled across Harry."

More like sought, but… Ginny nodded.

"And then you ranted about Ron to him."

Wouldn't call it ranting, but… Ginny nodded.

"And then he says he's going to be your matchmaker. This is…this is very strange," Hermione said slowly, furiously pondering over this new piece of information. "It just does not add up."

Leave it up to Hermione to turn this into a math problem. Ginny smiled wryly before asking her frowning friend, "What's your verdict?"

"I know you and Harry grew close over this summer, but I never thought… Well, you know Harry. He never likes to concern himself with things like…girls."

"Right," Ginny agreed carefully, her brown eyes darkening with thought.

"In fact, he's downright terrible with them," Hermione smiled dryly. "Except with you and me – but of course he doesn't really see me as a girl. I'd say he sees me more like…a comrade. Or even a sister."

"Mmm," Ginny answered, twirling her emerald green quill in her hand.

"So the fact that he would go out of his way to do this — to actually try to think like a…a…"

"Girl," Ginny finished for Hermione.

"Exactly! I just don't understand. Ron," Hermione rolled her brown eyes at the mention of her boyfriend, "would never do something like that for me. So why would Harry?" Slowly, her eyes widened and she stared at Ginny, an enigmatic smile forming. "You don't think…"

"Oh no, no, no," Ginny quickly shook her head. She could read Hermione easily. It made her nervous, however, because she wondered just how well Hermione would read her. "It's not like that. Come on Hermione, think about it. If he did— and he doesn't — he would not want to set me up with someone else, obviously. And…we've become pretty close, I'll admit, but it's not like that." When Hermione opened her mouth again, Ginny interrupted her unwaveringly. "It's. Not."

"All right, all right," Hermione conceded. Then she looked at Ginny with a bit of concern. "And…how are you holding up in all this?"

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, dragging a hand through her scarlet locks.

"Well, first that little outburst with Ron, then Harry saying all this, and last Michael Corner and you had a fight." At Ginny's questioning gaze, she said, "Word spreads pretty quickly, doesn't it? That's what happens when you share a room with Lavender and Parvati. Really, those two know more information about blokes than I'll ever want to. But…do you want to talk about it?"

"Michael wanted to get back together with me." Ginny smiled when Hermione's face twisted into disbelief. "Exactly. Even though just yesterday I saw him snogging Cho like there was no tomorrow, not that I particularly care. Needless to say, I put down his attempts. Can you believe he actually thought I'd be beggingto get back into him arms? As if I'd jump into his arms, tears leaking down my face if he gave me the time of day?"

"Sorry," Hermione tried to muffle her laughter, "but that imageisrather comedic."

"Anyway, I wasn't going to hex him but then he said the most despicable things that I just couldn't control myself," Ginny spat out, stabbing her quill against her parchment.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He said…he said…" Ginny's voice shook, much to her annoyance. She dropped her quill and rubbed her aching head. She allowed her voice to drop wearily. "He said I would have cherished him more if he had a scar on his face."

"Oh Ginny," Hermione said, reaching out to comfort the other girl.

"I really did like him and I really did want to be with him." Ginny took a in a shaky breath. "So it's not true, right? I don't… Not like that. I don't like The Chosen One. I just…"

"Of course you don't," Hermione said soothingly, but firmly. "As strange as it sounds, I think Ron was right about Corner. He was always a prat. A bit too possessive in my opinion. And not in a good way."

"Yes, well," Ginny smiled slightly. "What do you think I should do about the whole Harry thing?"

"I think," Hermione said slowly, carefully watching Ginny with her eyes, which gleamed with something hidden that Ginny couldn't put her finger on, "you should wait and let the chips fall as they may."

"And as Ron would say," Ginny said with a wry grin, "when did we start talking about food?"

---

The rain had always been Ginny's best friend. It had been raining the first night that she and Harry spent as friends. The two of them, sick and bedridden, had settled themselves by the fire in the Burrow. He lay on the couch while she sat curled on the floor right beside him. The constant pitter-patter of the rain was the only company to Ginny's soft voice as she read aloud to him. Sometime during that timeframe, Harry had dozed off, yet she had not been offended. The two of them were tired. She recalled gazing at his peaceful face with the firelight dancing over it.

It had been a long time before she slept.

That's why, after such a long day, Ginny didn't hesitate to run outside the moment the rain began to fall. It helped her release all the pent-up feelings inside. And a little water never hurt anyone.

So it was a great surprise to meet Harry on her way to the Great Hall for dinner. There had been something strange in the encounter. Had it just been her imagination, or had Harry been acting a little…off?

Ginny fingered her damp crimson hair as she entered the Great Hall, where she was promptly greeted by the pleasant sounds of clicking silver forks, knives, and spoons, accompanied with chatter. It wasn't that odd for him to have touched her hair. It had become a little habit of his. This time, however…the feeling had been a little bit different. His words echoed in her mind.

I like your hair down.

Since when had he cared about her hair?

"Ginny!"

She nearly jumped when she felt a hand grasp her arm quite forcefully. She turned to find herself looking straight into two large, dark eyes staring directly at her. The girl had long black hair and a wide girlish smile on her face.

"Oh, Ginny darling, I've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?"

"Do I know you?" Ginny had never seen this girl before.

"No," the girl replied unabashedly as she dragged Ginny down the aisle of the Gryffindor table. "But Iknowyou. My name is Romilda, Romilda Vane. I'm a year younger than you are and a Gryffindor too, of course. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure's…mine," Ginny said hesitantly, so baffled by this that she let this peculiar girl pull her until they finally stopped in front of a the table surrounded by females. She recognized several of them. Older Gryffindors, girls from her year, and many younger girls. Their matching black robes and red and gold ties made them all look eerily alike. This was making the situation stranger and stranger!

"Look who decided to join us," Romilda sang as if Ginny had come willingly. She pulled Ginny into a seat. There was a gleam in her dark eyes and a flush on her pale cheeks that Ginny just did not like.

"Hello," Ginny said hesitantly, feeling all the girls' eyes on her. Uneasily, she pushed her red hair away from her face.

"Ginny Weasley, correct?" one of the older girls asked, but she continued before Ginny could respond. "Partrica Stimpson."

"And I'm Victoria Frobisher," the girl next to her said with a smile, dipping a bit of bread into her tomato soup. "We're both seventh years."

"Nice to meet you," Ginny said, still confused about what was happening. She shot a look at Romilda. "But I'm sorry — all of you, erm, but is there a reasonthat I'm here?"

"Of course," Romilda laughed and the other girls joined in. A lick of anger flashed through Ginny. She didn't see what was so humorous about this situation considering that she was rather forced here. "You see, we've all wanted to speak to you for a long, long time."

"Very long," another girl echoed with wide, gray eyes. She looked like she was in Romilda's year.

"You see," Romilda continued, though she lowered her voice to a stage whisper, "we are assembled here because we are…" She paused to look around to make sure no one unwanted was listening before quickly ducking her head again and saying, "all in love with Harry Potter."

Ginny nearly toppled off her seat.

"You're all what?" Ginny cried.

"In love with Harry," Lavender Brown repeated from her seat. She was twirling her blonde hair in her hand. Parvati Patil waved happily from her seat beside her best friend, her rich chocolate eyes greeting Ginny.

"Lavender and Parvati?" Ginny cried incredulously. Her head was spinning. "You…you two can't possibly…"

"Well, no, we don't," Parvati agreed with a smile. "No really. We just happen to be part of every association in this school. You know, they throw pretty good parties and are pretty organized."

"The gossip too," Lavender giggled.

Ginny should have figured the two of them couldn't stand being left out of…anything that involved talking about boys and squealing.

"And Lavender's just trying to distract herself now that she and Seamus are officially off."

"Parvati!"Lavender shrieked, appalled, spilling some of her orange Pumpkin Juice onto her white blouse.

"But aside from them, most of us are in love with him," Victoria said, taking a delicate bite of fried chicken.

"We're absolutely infatuated by the boy," Susan Bones said from the Hufflepuff table behind them. Ginny's head whipped around to stare at the sixth year and ex-fellow D.A. member. Her eyes were far away and her pale cheeks were colored a deep hue. "Most of the Hufflepuff girls are."

"Can't help it," Hannah Abbott sighed dreamily, her two blonde pigtails swinging by her pale face. Ginny stared at her, vaguely remembering that she had been one of the first who believed Harry had been the Heir to Slytherin. She had also been a member of the D.A.

"Wait — what happened with Ernie?" Ginny asked, trying to repress the rush of panic that flooded her as her head spun. All these Gryffindors…and Hufflepuffs too?

"Psh," Hannah hissed foully, shaking her chicken leg in the air vigorously. She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice, but she didn't succeed too well. "Ernie and I are just friends. Besides, he has someone else in mind now. But Harry…he's so much better!"

"Don't forget us Ravenclaws," another girl spoke up from yet another table. "Who do you think organizes all the information, hmm?"

"Shush! We know! Lisa Turbin. She always feels that the Ravenclaws don't get that much attention because Cho Chang is a Ravenclaw and she's the only one that ever got to be with Harry," Romilda explained to Ginny as if this all made perfect sense. "Ravenclaws think that we don't like them because of that."

"Look, that's all very nice, but I just—" Ginny started.

"Anyway, did you all see him walking down the halls today?" giggled Partrica, her face a rosy red. Her eyes glazed over along with several other girls and they sighed.

"He was writing something," another fourth year squeaked.

"Do you think I should try to get my hands on it?" Victoria voiced as the additional girls burst into giggles at her audacity.

"What, you think it's a love letter or something?" a snobbish voice sniffed. "It's not going to someone like youobviously."

Ginny had to be dreaming. And having a nightmare.

"P-Parkinson?"

The sour Slytherin girl stuck her nose high into the air and regarded Ginny coldly. "Don't you dare speak my name, you Weasel."

Ginny bared her teeth at the horrible girl. How could a Slytherin like — much less loveHarry?

"You've got to be kidding me!" she snorted. "Whatever happened to your doting on Malfoy, hmm?"

Pansy Parkinson's extremely pale face stained a faint pink as she glared at the redhead. "Shut up, you…you! I don't want to hear anything from you. Whose fault do you think it is that I'm in this thing, eh?"

Whatever that meant. Bovine cow, Ginny thought to herself as she clutched her head. It was hurting so much… She knew that Harry had become extremely popular over the summer because he had grown taller and those extra Quidditch games hadn't exactly hurt his physique, but this was…this was…

"Don't worry about them," Romilda assured Ginny as she gestured toward the group of Slytherins that were listening from the table, though it was as far away from the Gryffindors as possible. "They're unofficially part of the group."

"What are you—a network?"

"We prefer to call ourselves the Secret Society of Harry Potter Full of Infinite Love," Romilda smiled. "SSOHPFOIL for short," she added with a wink.

Like that's hard to remember, Ginny thought sarcastically, the blood pounding in her head. Harry would hate to learn that he had a fanclub.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said in a strangled voice, "but can one of you tell me why I'mhere?"

The girls immediately hushed and exchanged looks with one another.

"Ginny — may I call you Ginny?" Romilda asked, but continued before Ginny could respond. The girl handed Ginny a cup of Pumpkin Juice. "You see we all love Harry Potter very, very much."

"Very much," the same girl beside Romilda echoed. Ginny refrained from hexing the annoying girl.

"And…hmm, the only thing is, none of us are really…closeto him. You, however, are his best friend's sister. Friend maybe. I might go as far as to say sister."

Ginny spat out the Pumpkin Juice she had poured into her mouth. She choked and sputtered as the girls around her squealed in revulsion. The headache of hers had now increased tenfold, encouraged by their cries.

She was like Harry's sister?

"And so," Romilda continued cheerfully, completely unaware of Ginny's horrified expression as she waved away the Pumpkin Juice with her wand, "we want youto…hmm, how should I put this concisely? Eloquently? Well, we've been observing the two of you and it seems utterly, and I mean utterly, platonic, so we thought you wouldn't mind a little favor from us. What I'm trying to say — have been trying to say really, is very simple. We want you to find us some information."

The younger girl shoved a long roll of parchment into Ginny's hands. Ginny simply stared blankly at her. This girl, who was so bold and so confident that she was almost falsely confident…she didn't love Harry. Romilda didn't even knowHarryShe just loved Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. So how could she be so straightforward?

Part of her couldn't help but whisper enviously in her ear that this girl at least had the nerve to say the words that she never had.

"You'll do it for us, won't you?" Romilda fluttered her eyelashes. "I mean, you understand, of course, how we feel — you were once, I heard, a fan girl of Harry yourself."

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Good!" Romilda smiled sanguinely, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder and squeezing tightly. "We're trusting you."

---

Just who does she think she is? Ginny fumed, shoving her hand into her pillow violently. Then she dropped her head onto the abused object with a sigh. The questions kept on creeping back to her. She tossed and turned, trying to escape them, but they refused the leave her be.

What type of cologne does he use?

It was obvious that Harry didn't use cologne! He smells more like treacle tart, sweat, and grass stains…

What's his favorite pastime?

Even an idiot could figure out that it was Quidditch! And if he wasn't in the air, he was cleaning his fantastic Firebolt. He would sit in front of the fireplace, holding his precious broom, and using the cleaning kit Hermione had given him during his third year. The look in his eyes when he looked at his broom…it was pure and simple love.

What is his type of girl?

Ginny let out an unfeminine snort. Pretty, good at Quidditch, smart, brave. Someone who knew his needs and could comfort him through thick and through thin. At least that was what she thought. However, from his past record, it seemed more like pretty, good at Quidditch, smart, cowardly, needy, clingy, crybaby! Ginny groaned and tossed in her bed. That wasn't right of her to think like that… Cho had gone through a lot in the past two years. First she lost Cedric, and then there was that whole Umbridge-trying-to-sack-her-mum issue along with Harry. Cho should have just left Harry be.

With one last toss, she shoved herself off the bed. She wasn't going to get any sleep at this rate so she might as well go down into the Common Room and…well, mull over it there in front of the fire. She loved the quiet flicker and crackle of the fire that sufficed as company during long nights like these.

Ginny wasn't sure if she should be surprised, amused, or annoyed when she found Harry alone lying on his back on the couch, his face heavenward, and his eyes closed.

With a sigh, she moved toward him, settling on her knees. She hovered above his face, careful that her hair did not touch him lest he woke from his soft slumber. Propping her elbows against the sofa and placing her face into her hands, she sighed, allowing herself the pleasure of simply staring at Harry (after she double checked to ensure that no one else was present — Merlin knows where those fan girls could be hiding). There was something serene about him when his face was not scrunched up in fear, anger, weariness.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," she murmured to herself, resisting the urge to brush aside a stray lock of black hair from his face. "What am I going to do with you?"

The only response she received was the crackling of the fire behind her. She tilted her head, deep in thought. Someone…perfect for her, Harry had promised her. But she had gotten over that dream a long time ago. She shifted, leaning closer.

"Harry," she whispered softly, more to herself than to him. "What's your type of girl?"

His eyebrows knit together and for one terrifying moment, she held her breath. Had he heard her? What would he think? Would he…tell her? But instead he simply let out a small sigh and she exhaled unsteadily.

Suddenly she backed away, flushing, and let out a little laugh. What was she doing? Holding her breath again? For Harry Potter? No… She wasn't eleven anymore. She smiled grimly to herself and began to rise when she felt a hand take hold of hers.

"G—"

She froze, stunned, eyes locked on him.

"Gin…ny…" Harry murmured in his sleep. The pained expression on his face made her heart clench.

An inexplicable feeling consumed her as she collapsed by his side, burying her face into the couch—so close, yet so far from him.

"Idiot," she whispered harshly, holding his hand tightly. She wasn't sure if she was referring to him or to herself.

It was a little while later when she felt something touching her hair that she stirred. She hadn't even been aware of dozing off. She blinked the sleep away from her eyes and stopped. That couldn't be…was she dreaming again or was Harry Potter staring at her with the strangest expression ever?

Was he blushing?

"Harry?" Ginny murmured, rubbing her eyes, making sure she wasn't dreaming.

"Er—morning," he smiled sheepishly, busying himself by pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Er–night, I mean. It's still night. I wasn't doing anything — I was just—!" He stopped, letting out a long, embarrassed breath. "T-There was something in your hair."

Ginny let out a small laugh.

"So, uh, how…how are you?" he propped himself up on his elbow, scratching his head awkwardly.

"I'm…fine," she smiled. "And you? What are you doing here so late? Alone?"

"Er, couldn't sleep," he answered, finally sitting properly. "Stomach pains today or something… But it's gone now, I think," he added quickly when he noted her alarmed expression. "And what about yourself?"

"Hm, couldn't sleep either," she answered wryly, pressing her chin into her palm.

"Thinking?"

"Yes." She wasn't going to very well tell him that she had been thinking about his fans.

There was a beat of silence. Then —

"Hey, Ginny?" Harry spoke softly, causing her to lift her head. "Do you…think you can read to me?"

She blinked, her mouth slightly hanging. This time, without a doubt, his face was flushed a light hue. She bit back a smile. Then her heart jerked. The other girls. They wanted him. And who was she, his so called sister, to stop him? She couldn't bear it.

"Of course, just like old times," she said, fighting to keep her voice casual. She watched as relief (and happiness?) flashed in his green eyes. "But only on one condition."

"What's that?" Now his eyes turned curious, hesitant. She took a deep breath before rising from her kneeling position and sitting right next to him.

"Let me lie on your lap," she blurted out, not believing her own boldness.

"What?"Harry nearly jumped away.

"It's not like thatsilly," Ginny laughed, trying her best to ignore the stinging from her chest. "You know…like old times. The nice, comfortable feeling of the Burrow, you know? And, well, to be honest, my legs are a bit sore from that awkward position I fell asleep in on the floor."

"Oh," he cleared his throat excessively. "Ha, yeah, like old times. Yeah…" A tender smile unfolded on his face. "I'd like that."

"I'll recite you some poetry," she said easily as she laid her head on his lap. It was soft, but firm from all of his Quidditch practice no doubt. It was warm… She closed her eyes and began to speak.

"I do not love thee!"

Harry flinched. Ginny stopped, and looked at him questioning. He smiled with a bit too much teeth, trying to reassure her. She wasn't sure what to make of this, so she closed her eyes and began once more.

"I do not love thee! —no! I do not love thee!
And yet when thou art absent I am sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad."

She could feel him breathing. In…out… In…out… Steady, calming. Reliable. Funny how just being close, perhaps not even having to bethisclose, could comfort her so, washing away any troubles that burdened her mind.

"I do not love thee! —yet, I know not why,
Whate'er thou dost seem still well done, to me;
And often in my solitude I sigh
That those I do love are not more like thee!"

Sometimes she thought it would be better if there were others like him. Then it wouldn't have to be him. But then…she would probably be asking for more heartache.

"I do not love thee! —yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear."

His voice wasn't really music. It was usually gruff, a little boyish, but much more grown-up than most adults, but to her, it sounded just right. And that was probably why she loved to listen to him speak, even when he fumbled with his words. Not that he ever did around her.

"I do not love thee! —yet thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,
Between me and the midnight heaven arise,
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew."

At a word, Harry jerked slightly, but she barely noticed. He smelled of fresh air and earth. Everything real. The only things she ever wanted. Not a prince, not a knight. Just…

"I do not love thee! Yet alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art."

There was a slight pause before Harry whispered quietly, "Are you…are you and Michael Corner back together?"

Ginny nearly jolted off the couch. "What?Where did you hear thatrubbish"

"Oh, here and there," he answered vaguely. He wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Well," she huffed, settling back down on his lap. Looking up at him, she continued to speak. "I'll have you know that that will never happen. In fact, I gave him a taste of my famous Bat-Bogey hex — he deserved it of course."

"Of course," Harry echoed, a boyish smile now on his face. "So…the poem was just…"

"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously, her eyes flickering toward the fireplace.

"Well," he hesitated, "it said blue eyes and whatnot, and you know, Corner has blue eyes and all, so…well, it's just that—"

"Just that?"

"If…if by any chance you did get back together with him and all, then my matchmaking skills wouldn't be needed anymore," he finished.

"Oh." Ginny felt empty all of a sudden, as if the small bit of hope she had allowed to swell in her chest had been swiftly burst. Of course that was all.

"But I'm…glad that you didn't…get back together with him," Harry said with some difficulty. He ran a hand through his black hair. "He's…a prat and all and you deserve better."

Ginny couldn't help but smile. She shifted, curling like a cat against him.

"Yes," she agreed, "but enough talk. I'm all talked out for once."

---

Naru-chan: Wow...finished with chapter two. I'm so sorry for the delay, but I made it extra long to make it up! I hope you enjoyed it. The poem, by the way, was written by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton.

So, did you like my twist? Harry Potter's fanclub. :) In case you were going to question certain people liking Harry (ahem - Slytherins), I should remind you that a lot of boys like Ginny (she doesn't know it of course), and in turn, because the boys won't pay attention to them, they lavish their attention of the Boy Who Lived. Now I can start to write the real epilogue because you know this detail.

Anyway, I once again apologize for the long delay, but if you review, it will be a big incentive for me to continue. So I will humbly beg for a review here. :X I would love hearing any comments or criticisms or particular requests. Thank you for reading!