Disclaimer: [Question: What's a "disclaimer" and what do you put in it?]

A/N - Wow. Two chapters in, and I'm already in a slump. Ugh. I'm feeling really pessimistic guys. I seriously don't know where this story is going. I'm guessing about, like, five more chapters until I finish this? Ugh, I don't know. Maybe three. I know some people are looking forward to this chapter, and I sincerely hope you like it.

Let the story begin!

Chapter 3 - The Force

It was very impressive how Ginny had managed to control her emotions that morning, but she just had congratulate herself for staying calm and not ending up in a panic attack, even thought she had come close to hyperventilation countless times. It was nearly five in the evening when Ginny finally finished putting everything together. Honestly, there wasn't much to do and she wondered with irritation why her mother couldn't do it all on her own. All she would have had to do was to wave her wand and everything would be organized. Instead, she had Ginny fold clothes and put them away in bureaus and dressers. "Discipline, Ginny!" Her annoying voice was saying. "You can't just depend on magic to solve everything. One must act as a Muggle to learn hardships of life!" Why, then, was she always uptight and short-tempered whenever her husband showed excitement for Muggles? What a joke!

She had moved about the rooms like a robot, her ligaments moving awkwardly and stiffly as she went about fixing everything. Despite her rage, she made sure everything was absolutely immaculate so there would be nothing her mother could possibly say to make her do anything. Besides, she was going to share her room with Hermione; the least she could do was to be neat around her. The electricity in Ginny's heart that had nearly electrocuted her that morning in her excitement was gone now. There was merely a numbing sensation in the pit of her stomach that urged her to throw up. As she folded clothes and laid out her toiletries, she tried to contain her feelings and go about her work diligently. Even if fate didn't want her and Harry together, she could at least try to befriend him. Yes, that was a good plan. But for now, she would have to wait to see her saviour.

Ginny was lying on her bed, on her pillows, staring up at the ceiling. It was evening and she had finished her duties about an hour ago. Her fury has lessened to bitterness, which lessened to annoyance, which lessened to acceptance. Needless to say, she had finally calmed down. Or had she? Well, she was still angry at her mother, but not so angry that she wanted to curse her anymore...

Her mind was quite blank at the moment when she precipitously felt a magnetic current travel through her body, starting from the tips of her toes to the roots of her flaming red hair. She sat up abruptly, confusion clouding her mind. Huh? The current had almost seemed like a warning...but a warning for what?

Ginny swung her legs off her bed and pulled on her trainers in a hurry. For some unfathomable reason, she had a sudden urge to get downstairs to the bar. Whatever for, she didn't even know. It almost appeared like she was following unwritten instructions:

WARNING.

GET OFF BED.

PULL ON TRAINERS.

GET DOWNSTAIRS.

These words echoed inside her head repeatedly as she flung open the door and raced downstairs at such speed, that she was a blur. She almost bumped into an elderly man with a cane on the way, but the "force" she currently controlled propelled her away from him; it seemed as if this force wasn't going to let her stop until she reached the purpose of the excitement. Her heart was beating really fast and she felt her pulse quickening. Something - no, someone - was downstairs and she had to see what was up. The "force" had brought back that same electric feeling she had had that morning; it was building and building itself up so high, and the lights over her head seemed so bright that she was completely blind. But still she ran, and it felt like a century to get down the stairs. She had just reached the bottom step and was going to enter the bar when all of a sudden...

WHAM!

Someone had crashed into her, knocking her clean off her feet and straight onto her bottom and the person that had crashed into her had dropped to the floor with a grunt. The electricity was diminishing slowly and her blindness was withheld, but she still saw the bright lights. As she rose her eyes to see who she had slammed into, she knew she had reached her purpose.

She had knocked into Harry Potter, himself.

To say the least, she was shocked...and embarrassed.

The impact had caused Harry to take leave of his glasses, which were planted right near Ginny's left hand.

"Ginny?"

The angel was calling!

Ginny exhaled. She hadn't realized she hadn't been breathing. Oh, how beautiful her name sounded when Harry said it.

"Um, Ginny? Can you hand me my glasses, please?" He was now on his knees searching for his glasses. Like a mentally impaired prat, Ginny was staring at him, open-mouthed, red in the face and speechless.

She was quite aware of the fact that he had called her name twice. She was also quite aware that he had asked her to hand him his glasses. But that would allow her to touch the handsome frames that covered his magnificent eyes. That would allow her to hand it over to him, possibly making his hand brush against her and make her feel something she didn't think felt right to feel in front with him. What if it showed in her eyes? In her face? What if he suspected? Was fate playing around with her? But he needed his glasses! What was she supposed to say? She had bumped into him! HIM! She had been running as if she was being chased by a crazed murderer, (well, this wasn't quite unrealistic, what, with all this talk about Sirius Black...).

Harry's hand had finally found his glasses. Though it was lying right near her hand, his hand did not even touch hers. Godric, she couldn't even feel the heat from his hand! But then again, she felt hot all over at the moment.

As Harry slipped his glasses on his nose, he took a moment to get his bearings straight before he focused his gaze on Ginny and gave her a smile. "Hey, Ginny."

Ginny felt herself go breathless. She was lightheaded. She was drowning to in his features as he sat up, rubbing the spot where their heads had momentarily touched. Oh, MERLIN! They had TOUCHED! Their heads had touched, and she hadn't even realized! It was no wonder she hadn't felt any pain. She felt joy, utter joy!

He looked as perfect as ever. Jet-black hair all jumbled up as if he had just gotten off a broom; undeniably sexy. His features were perfect: his nose straight, his lips pink, his cheeks looking so soft...His green eyes were shining, but they were filled with pain from the bump on his head. Guilt flooded through Ginny which almost left her breathless. SHE had HURT him!

"Are you okay?" Ginny squeaked, terrified. She was a monster!

Harry looked over at her reassuringly and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Harry was such a beautiful creature.

Before Ginny had the chance to choke out something else to say, her brothers, minus Percy, and Hermione had come up to them. Fred and George simultaneously raised their eyebrows at the scene before them, but, Merlin thank them, for they didn't say a thing. Hermione had a small smile on her face which looked a little bit too knowing. Ginny turned scarlet.

Ron, of course, was his usual oblivious self. "What are you two doing on the floor?"

Honestly. What did she do to deserve such a stupid brother? Didn't he even consider that he might be embarrassing her?

Harry smirked up at him. "Having the time of my life. What else?"

"Are you alright, dear?" Molly Weasley asked anxiously, who had come up behind them with Arthur, who also looked concerned on why their daughter and Harry were on the floor.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, getting to his feet. Ginny looked up at him apprehensively. She couldn't even breathe. The sexiness radiating from his body was like a magical beam bouncing right into her soul. Why was she just sitting here like an idiot? Why wasn't she saying anything? Why couldn't she just move? But the force seemed to be operating on her again. It got her planted to the ground.

"Well, we're having dinner in the lounge, lot," Arthur stated. "Harry, you can put whatever shopping you have in room and come join us."

"Alright," Harry agreed. The family filed back to the lunge in the back of the bar, Fred and George uncharacteristically silent, but, like Hermione, they had the same knowing smiles on their face.

Oh Merlin.

The only ones left were Hermione, Harry and Ron, but Hermione seemed to want to leave also because she said to Ron, "Let's go eat, Ron."

"In a minute, I want to go up with Harry," Ron said. Then he caught sight of Ginny on the floor, still scarlet and still feeling nauseated.

"What are you still doing on the floor?" Ron asked her exasperatedly. "Get up!"

"Ron!" Hermione said reproachfully through gritted teeth. "Let's go!" She grabbed his arm and tugged him in the direction of the bar.

"But why?" Ron asked, looking baffled. He looked from Hermione, to Ginny, to Harry, who shrugged his shoulders, also looking mystified.

"Because!" Hermione snapped, as if this was valid reason, and she jerked him away.

Now it was Ginny and ... Harry. Alone.

Harry looked after them, still looking perplexed. Then he shook his head a little and glanced down at Ginny on the floor...who was staring at him. He smiled at her and held out his hand. "Come on," he said gently.

Is it possible for a twelve-year-old to have a heart attack? Ginny thought to herself wildly. Everything seemed to be in a slow motion. Harry's hand - his HAND! - was reaching toward her, advancing its way through the air to help her stand onto her own two feet. His hand was quite big; bigger then hers. Ginny tilted her head slightly to the side. His palm didn't look calloused like her brother, Charlie's, were. Quite the contrary, it looked pretty soft. Like her own. It suddenly dawned on her. She was going to touch his hand! She was going to TOUCH it! Like it wasn't enough that she had gotten the prospect of having contact to his head. But his HAND!

His hand was in front of her now, waiting. Should she grab it? Well, of course she should! ...But could she? Had she put lotion on her hands? What if they were dirty? She had been cleaning! What if her hands were rough? Would he think she had manly hands?

She couldn't keep him waiting! He was looking down at her, smiling. Oh, my, that smile.

The force activated once more. It brought her hand up slowly to clutch his.

Oh my.

His hand was hardly rough. It was soft. And warm. What was more? Once she had clutched his hand. She felt the electric shock go through her body once more. She jumped, as Harry pulled her up.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, looking a little worried. She only stared at him, but her face wasn't so scarlet. That was good.

"Fine," she said breathlessly, drinking in his features from eye level. Well, not technically eye level. He was a good three inches taller.

Harry smiled at her again. "Good. Well, I'm going to put this stuff away." He held up a bag of his shopping. "I'll see you at dinner." On his way up the stairs, he patted her arm gently.

Ginny didn't move an inch. She only stared at what was in front of her. Needless to say, if anyone had passed her and tried to knock her out of her hypnotic state, they would have called St. Mungo's to sedate her.

There were many things Ginny wanted to do right now, rejoicing and screaming and laughing and even crying were only a few. But there were also things she had to reflect on.

Firstly, Ginny had knocked into Harry on the stairs. Despite the pain she caused him, and despite the firm fact that she was indeed a monster, she had gotten her wish: she had finally touched him. Secondly...she had touched him again. And it was he that made it so. By showing his kind nature, he had held her hand. He had patted her ARM. This. Was. Breathtaking.

Finally. That electric shock she felt when he held her hand. That electric shock she had felt when she had jumped off her bed. That electric shock she had felt when she had first saw him at Kings Cross station.

At the station, it had felt like a greeting. A simple, "How do you do".

On her bed, it had felt like a warning. A "Watch out! He's coming!"

When he had held her hand, in his soft, warm one...it had felt like magic. And, of course, Ginny believed in magic.

Fate wanted them together after all.

A/N - Like it? I really hope so, 'cause I tried my hardest to make it satisfactory! It's really short and it's a small scene, so...yeah. Reviews have been slowing down nowadays, so I feel kinda...well, review please!