A/N – This was written for Round Two of the Diversity Competition on the HPFC forum. The challenge was to write a Trio era romance which I'll admit isn't my strongest suit (though that's the point of the challenge, I suppose) so I hope you don't think this is too corny. Reviews are love :)
Ginny Weasley made her way through the crowded common room as her fellow Gryffindors cheered and patted her on the back. Angelina, Katie and Alicia stood in the centre of the room admiring the huge, shiny Quidditch cup that stood there and all three smiled warmly at her as she walked by them. She passed Ron by one of the windows, giving re-enactments of every one of the saves he had made to the crowd of fifth-years gathered around him. As they started up yet another chorus of 'Weasley is our King', Harry glanced up at her and grinned. Ginny's heart fluttered, but not as much as it once would have, after all she was with Michael now. At least she thought she was, he hadn't seemed too pleased to see her after the game, she remembered with irritation.
She clambered out of the portrait hole, giving little Dennis Creevey a forced smile and a "talk to you later" as he bounced towards her. Of course she was ecstatic that Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, but she just didn't feel like talking about it anymore. It didn't feel right somehow, that she was being congratulated for her performance on the pitch whilst Harry just sat there listening to Ron, and she knew he would probably have caught the Snitch long before she did. Ginny was sure Harry missed Quidditch terribly, but as usual he didn't want to be the centre of attention and was happy to let his friends have their moment in the limelight. Ginny gave a small smile and then forcibly stopped that train of thought. She needed to stop thinking about Harry.
She wandered down the corridor, glad for a little peace and quiet and thought about perhaps going for a walk around the lake, when she heard a voice behind her.
"Hey, Ginny," the boy called and she spun around, surprised to see that Dean Thomas had followed her out of the common room. She had always rather liked Dean, but, being from different years, they had barely even spoken to each other before.
"Oh, um, hi Dean," she said brightly. "What's the matter?"
"Well," he began, looking strangely a little nervous, "I wanted to say that the way you caught that Snitch was amazing, particularly since it was your first game. I never knew you were that good at flying."
"Thanks, Dean," Ginny replied, wondering whether his voice was usually this high-pitched.
"And, um," he continued, "I wanted to check you were okay, I mean you seemed like you were in a bit of a hurry to leave the common room and I thought there might be something wrong."
"Oh no, there's nothing wrong," she said. "I just wanted to get out of there for a while. If I hear that bloody song one more time, I think I might do my nut."
Dean smiled and Ginny began to grow interested in what his slightly awkward demeanour might mean.
"I was just going for a walk around the lake. You're welcome to join me if you fancy," she invited and Dean nodded happily and fell into step beside her.
Their conversation began to flow more naturally and soon they were chatting like old friends, discussing the DA and bitching about Umbridge. They stopped when they reached a willow tree that hung from a bank into the gently rippling water. Ginny suddenly felt a little nervous and began twirling one of the tree's long, thin, hanging branches around her fingers. Dean was staring out across the water to where the Giant Squid was lazily splashing its tentacles against the surface. Neither of them spoke for a moment, knowing what was coming but too apprehensive to be the one to instigate it.
Ginny pondered for a moment whether she really did want to kiss Dean. She was supposedly with Michael after all, though she had been going off him over the last few weeks and he had seemed annoyingly pissed off with her after the match. And then there was Harry. She still couldn't stop herself from thinking about him even now that she had tried to move on. She was confused.
But perhaps this was what she needed, someone new to take her mind off them. And Dean seemed perfect; friendly, good and kind and his lips were just there. All she had to do was lean forward just a little.
He turned to face her, head slightly tilted. Ginny met his eyes, and then closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his.
When they finally, slowly, broke apart, they wore identical grins and made their way back to the castle hand in hand.