A Matchless Match

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The great JKRowling does.

Naru-chan: Drumroll please! Thanks to all of you who reviewed! I hope you like this! It's the moment you've all been waiting for!

Chapter Eight: A Matchless Match

Matchmaker, Matchmaker,
Plan me no plans
I'm in no rush, maybe I've learned
Playing with matches, a girl can get burned
So,
Bring me no ring, Groom me no groom
Find me no find, Catch me no catch
Unless he's a matchless match!

-Fiddler on the Roof

At this moment, Harry wished more desperately than ever that his name wasn't "Harry." Why couldn't it have been an even more common name, like Joe or Tom? (Er, okay, maybe not Tom...) Not that he was anything like a Joe or a Tom. It was just that after hearing hundreds of boys screaming "Harry" at him frenetically, he was beginning to rather detest it.

"Harry! Pick me! Obviously I'm the one for her! I heard you wrote 'nice hair!'" screamed Ritchie Cootie, a Gyffindor Beater, trying to show off his gleaming locks. "And I play Quidditch!"

"Harry! I do too! Ah – okay, I don't, but so what? Pick me!"

"No, no, me! See here? It says I got a 9 in Intelligence! She needs a smart bloke!" Eddie Carmichad, the seventh year Ravenclaw, hollered as Harry zipped past a corner and nearly ran right into him. He ducked as Carmichad tried to grab him before he rolled to the side and leapt to his feet.

"So what? I got a 10 right Harry, old buddy old pal?" Terry Boot cried as he jumped at Harry from the right.

"Incarcerous!" Harry screamed, causing thick ropes to burst out of thin air and bind themselves tightly around Boot. Mentally he apologized to the boy as he rushed up the stairs.

"I love your shoes, Harry!" Colin Creevey cried as he jumped from a moving staircase above Harry. Harry pointed his wand at the sandy-haired boy and cried a hovering charm, leaving Colin floating in the air.

"Who cares about intelligence? I got a 9 in looks! So that means it's me right, Harry? Harry!" Ernie Macmillan yelled as he attempted to block Harry's entry to the sixth floor corridor while waving a torn piece of parchment.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry cried, pointing his wand at himself. He leapt up into the air over Ernie's head and landed a good three feet away from the other boy when he uttered, "Finite Incantatem."

Then he continued his wild dash. He panted heavily, his throat hoarse. He was having trouble casting all these spells while running nonstop. He glanced over his shoulder to see a stampede of blokes still charging at him.

"Scarface! How much do you want?" Malfoy cried as he flew from inside a classroom.

"Langlock!" Harry screamed at the blonde boy, making Malfoy's tongue glue to the roof of his mouth. The blonde boy let out a muffled yelp, and even in this frantic state of mind, Harry couldn't help but wonder to himself how dimwitted Malfoy could be. One shouldn't insult who he or she is trying to bribe in the same sentence!

Crabbe and Goyle attempted to use their bulky bodies and brute strength to grab Harry, but he dove under Goyle's legs before he hastily scampered to his feet. His blood pounded at his ears.

"Hey, Harry, where are you going? I've been meaning to talk to you! You know, because we go way back! Wait – why are you running?" Seamus tried to stop Harry at the bottom of the seventh floor marble stairs, which was located beside a restroom.

"Mobilicorpus!" Harry forced Seamus to plaster himself against the wall. At least he wouldn't get trampled over. By the time Harry made it up to the seventh floor, he quickly turned around and yelled, "Oppugno!"

Creatures flew out from the tip of his wand and attacked the blokes. Good, Harry thought frantically when he heard their distracted cries. He slammed the door behind him and swiftly cast a locking spell. That would keep them busy. He hastily rushed past the area of blank wall opposite to a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls how to dance the ballet.

Where those blokes will never think of! Harry concentrated hard as he ran past the wall three times. A door appeared and he wrenched it open and slammed it shut behind him just as he heard an unlocking spell being cast.

He tumbled onto the ground in the Room of Requirement with pure exhaustion. His breath came in piercing, ragged pants as he enjoyed the cool feeling of wood against his face. Apparently he had left the list lying on the floor near in the common room and – ironically – the secret society was holding a meeting…in the Gryffindor common room! Now all the hard work Harry had poured into those sixty pages were torn to pieces as each boy tried to get the part with his name on it. He had been chased all day long with not a single break. And it had been hard to escape when there were blokes ambushing him from every corner.

Each boy had tried to convince Harry that he was "the one" for Ginny. He could still hear their screams ringing in his head. He wondered idly while he caught his breath if his hearing would ever be the same.

Harry groaned now and wiped the sweat from his dirty face. He had earlier hid in the Forbidden Forest, but apparently nothing scared these blokes anymore. Not if Ginny was the prize. At this thought he gritted his teeth. She wasn't some trophy that he could simply hand over! Why couldn't those idiots realize that?

He looked up now, in surprise, as he realized where exactly he was. In his desperation to simply escape, he asked the Room to turn into somewhere he thought was safe. Somewhere where there wasn't the chaos that he felt around him.

Harry was in Ginny's room.

He slowly rose to his feet. It was funny… He had not been in her room before, he realized, even though he had visited the Burrow countless times. But he knew that this was her room. The scent of flowers was unmistakable. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, and let it calm him down despite the quiver he felt in his heart. It felt as if Ginny were here, embracing him.

Then he opened his eyes to take in the room. It wasn't girly, but it definitely had a feminine touch. There was a small, but cozy bed with emerald sheets. Beside it was a hand-made shelf full of various books. Harry skimmed his fingers over the old covers. She had organized them according to which books were her favorites, he realized. Then he moved over to her dresser. He was surprised and terribly pleased to see that there stood a picture frame with the two of them in the picture. It had been taken during the summer. They were waving happily at Harry, though occasionally she would jab him in the ribs with a mischievous look in her eyes. The Harry in the photograph would just laugh. As Harry watched the two of them in the photograph, he almost let out a sigh. It was so obvious that he had started to like her then. Except he, of course, hadn't known that.

Finally he settled himself on Ginny's bed. He touched the soft green sheets absently, and thought to himself, So this is where Ginny sleeps. Then he blushed. This wasn't really her bed. Slowly, he laid himself down on the bed. It fit him, but barely. It was…just right.

Lying there…he couldn't help but dream about being with her. He felt his face flush and pressed a hand over his pounding chest. If he were her boyfriend, then he could be with her as much as he wanted. Even…perhaps…kiss her. Then he violently shook his embarrassed head before he buried it under her soft pillow. How could he even think that when he was such a horrible kisser? That time with Cho…

He felt his heart sink. So even if he fit all the other categories for her Mr. Perfect, he was lacking in the most important one. This whole matchmaking was for the sake of her perfect kiss, wasn't it?

Kissing Ginny…that would be…

He groaned and rolled over, willing himself to sleep and banish all thoughts of the redhead.

That was pointless, he thought five hours later. He hadn't managed to even get a wink of sleep. His mind continued to betray him by thinking and thinking thoughts that only tormented him. He imagined all the possible things that he could do to make her fall for him. Perhaps if he made a love potion, he wondered…but that notion was beyond ridiculous. He wanted her real love, not something that was created and false. He would rather her not be with him at all.

But his blood ran cold at the idea of her being with someone else.

He turned over for the thousandth time and heaved another melancholy sigh. Being here…surrounded by Ginny, yet not by Ginny…it was pure torture. He wanted the real thing. A surge of emotion rushed into his heart.

Then do something about it.

He was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? He bolted upright in the bed and tossed off the covers. He had to be brave. He couldn't keep this emotion trapped inside his chest. It didn't belong to him. It belonged to Ginny.

He glanced at his watch. Five A.M. He couldn't wait until the morning, because by then the other blokes might have managed to capture him. If that happened, he would never get close to her. So he carefully opened the door and peeked out, grateful for the silence and darkness that welcomed him. He was glad that no blokes would be in his way now. Surely they had grown too exhausted and gone to bed! But he couldn't be too sure. Luckily, he was quite used to dark corridors unlike these other blokes.

He crept down the halls and stairs, once again wishing for his Invisibility cloak. Then, at least, he could travel without being worried about being seen. He had made it down to the fifth floor when he caught the sound of a creak to his left and instantly leapt behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered. He could hear murmuring and he held his breath, lest it gave his position away.

"…Slimy little…did he go?" a hissing came.

Malfoy, Harry thought sharply, still holding his breath.

A blue light appeared down the corridor and it revealed the blonde boy with Theodore Nott, both grumbling and in a terrible mood. Harry supposed, with some glee, that it was because they hadn't found him or the fact that they were working together when they'd rather be working alone.

"Hang on," Nott suddenly hissed as the two Slytherins halted near the statue. Harry began to shake from his lack of oxygen.

"What is it?" Malfoy jeered impatiently.

There was a beat. Then, "No, it's nothing."

Harry took a deep gasp of air once they disappeared behind a corner. That had been close. Stupefy had been on the tip of his tongue. He frowned as he left his hiding spot.

So. The pests were still looking for him.

He had to get to Ginny now. She was surely still in her room and he couldn't go up the stairs to the girl's dorm without it turning into a large slippery slide and setting the alarms off. The wheels in his brain turned. He had it. But that meant he had to go outside of Hogwarts.

After sneaking out of the castle (which took quite a considerable amount of time as he had to dodge several other boys, Mrs. Norris, and Filch), he crept toward the Gryffindor Tower. He glared up at the opposing building. If he could get past that horrible secret society, he could get past this weak obstacle. It was at least a quarter past six now, as the sun was beginning to peek from behind the rolling mountains. It was as if it was watching Harry, waiting to see what he would do.

"Accio Firebolt!"

Without a hitch, he watched as his favorite and beloved broom flew to him, trying not to think too much. If he over thought everything, then…

"Don't let me down," he said to his Firebolt, as he mounted his broom and lifted from the ground, but he half wondered if that was directed toward himself. He swallowed hard as he stopped near a window. There was a small protruding slab of stone at the windowsill, which he steadied his knees on, though he carefully clutched the roof of the window with his hands. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before he carefully rapped against the window with his knuckles.

"Ginny," he whispered urgently, praying that it would be her that woke and none of her other sleeping mates. He didn't want to even consider what to do if that happened. Rap, rap, rap. "Ginny…!"

He could faintly hear some stirring and groaning from within the room. Encouraged by this response, he tapped even more eagerly. Rapraprap!

"Bloody owl!" a voice cried as the window burst open. Harry nearly stumbled backwards when he found himself face to face with Ginny, dressed in a simple white cotton T-shirt over a pair of pajama pants. Her brown eyes widened considerably. "H-Harry?"

The morning wind blew, pushing her red hair back. For a moment, he couldn't speak as it swirled around her face, which was bathed in the new sunlight. Right then, he felt he could die happy.

"Ginny…" he whispered.

"H-Harry…what are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "At…my window…at…" she glanced to the clock on her bedside, "six thirty in the morning…?"

"I had to see you," he replied honestly. He swallowed hard again. His throat always closed up whenever he wanted to say something important.

"What about?" she asked hesitantly.

"You see, I…I think I've found h-him." Could she hear his deafening heartbeat?

"Who?" She blinked in confusion.

"Your ideal match."

"Oh." Her eyes darted toward the ground.

"Yes, you see…it's…it's…" he closed his emerald eyes and summoned all the courage he had. "Me."

Her head snapped up, her honey eyes filled with shock. Her lower lip trembled. "What?"

"I know it sounds crazy – it bloody is crazy! You're my best friend's sister! B-But it's all there! I love Quidditch, you love Quidditch, and we're both good at it. I've got courage or I wouldn't be here. Plus I've battled with Deatheaters and dragons, even living mazes– I don't think another bloke in this school has done that. I help people –"

From below, he distinctly heard a cry like We found him! followed along with more cries of his name and many phrases that sounded remarkably like those from the day before. He felt terror bubble inside him.

"H –"

"I'm not super smart, but I think I have a considerable amount of knowledge – I have talent, I mean, I'm the youngest Seeker in the past century and I speak Parseltongue – I stick out, though I don't really want to – I mean, I don't think anyone else has had a Dark evil Lord after him since he was one or has a lightening bolt scar on his forehead to prove it." His sentences were coming out so fast she could barely catch them.

"Har – "

"I think I'm modest for someone who's so famous – I'm absolutely rubbish with girls as you can obviously see because you know me better than I know myself – your family loves me almost as much as I love them – I think I'm funny though you're much funnier – I'm tall enough for you. I've even got black hair!" Harry gasped for breath. She opened her mouth, but he panicked and more words spilled from his lips. "The only thing is – I can't kiss. And I know that's really important to you and you need your perfect kiss, but everything else fits and I love you so I–"

She grabbed the sides of his face and yanked him forward. The moment their lips touched, fireworks exploded in his head. His mind went completely blank and everything disappeared. He couldn't even hear the shouts below him. Her flowery scent invaded his senses. All there was…was Ginny. When they finally broke apart bit by bit, after what seemed like more than a few wonderful days, he stared at her dumbly, his lips still tingling.

"I don't…I don't think I've enjoyed being shut up more than right now."

She licked her lips with a mischievous glint in her eye as she glanced downward below him before she looked back into his emerald eyes. "You can tell those boys down there that I won't be requiring any more of your services. I've already had my perfect kiss and found my matchless match."

"Really?" he said, smiling madly as his right hand tangled itself in her hair and slowly brought her closer again. "So have I."

Naru-chan: What do you think? Hee hee. Finally! They kiss, right? Whew, 8 chapters. I hope you liked it. I just loved that image in my head of him at her window and the mad mob below him. Thank you to all of you that reviewed and read!

I'm thinking of writing a compainion piece or two with this story. Like in Ginny's POV. Or the summer where he falls for her. Or a sequel with the mad mob. Hmmm...decisions, decisions. Anyway, review and let me know what you think!