This is a follow-up to my first fic, Restless, which is 

floating around here somewhere, and none of these 

characters are actually mine, although I have purchased 

many things with their pictures on them. 
 

That Corner of the Room


He stared blankly at page 367 of his Transfigurations 

textbook, willing himself not to look over into that corner 

of the common room. Each day was a little bit worse than 

the day before, Harry reflected grimly. Surely this wasn't 

going to be a permanent condition. He was already sick of 

the over sensitivity, the jumpiness, the blushing. Someone 

was going to figure out what was going on, and soon. He 

just hoped it wasn't HER. There were several reasons this 

would be the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to 

him, not the least of which was that he'd already blown it. 

It just figures, he thought. It just figures that when I start to 

like her, she's already stopped liking me. This was patently 

obvious-he could hardly look at her without blushing, 

while she seemed to take no more notice of him than she 

did of the common room furniture. So. Plainly the thing to 

be done here was to completely ignore this... it would go 

away. These things did, eventually. After all, he could now 

think of Cho with complete equanimity. Certainly she was 

pretty, and kind, and popular, but that no longer did curious 

things to his insides. Cho was just Cho again. She certainly 

wasn't...Ginny. Damn! He slammed his textbook shut and 

rose to his feet, scanning the room desperately for a 

distraction. His eyes fell on yet another complication 

playing chess by the fire with Hermione. He thought he 

knew Ron well enough to predict he would not be pleased 

by his best mate's crush on his little sister. Still, he thought 

he had an outside chance to keep him from figuring it out. 

Ron wasn't very swift when it came to these things-if he 

still hadn't cottoned on to his own crush on Hermione, it 

was unlikely he'd notice the symptoms in someone else.


Harry stacked his books into a pile and headed for the sofa 

by the fire. Hermione glanced up from the chessboard. 

"Finished with Transfiguration, have you? Do you think 

she'll have us try it out tomorrow with real salamanders?" 

Harry had no idea what Hermione was on about. Either the 

salamanders were in the part he hadn't read yet, or he'd 

been reading the wrong chapter entirely. Hermione kept her 

eyes fixed on him, expecting a response. "I wouldn't be 

surprised." Well, that was true, at least. Especially now that 

he knew salamanders were in some way involved. 


"Hermione, it's your move." Ron interrupted. He watched 

Ron turn his attention to Hermione as Hermione turned her 

attention to the board. For the first time, Harry felt a twinge 

of annoyance with Ron. How dim could he be? Lately, if he 

was looking for Ron, the best place to find him was within 

a five-foot radius of Hermione. It was pathetic, and all he 

had to do was SAY something- Hermione obviously felt 

the same way. Disgruntled, he threw himself back against 

the arm of the sofa. He wasn't really angry with Ron, he 

thought, it was just...but that train of thought was destined 

to go no further. His new position on the couch had 

inadvertently given him a perfect view of that corner of the 

room. 


Ginny was curled up in a large leather armchair, reading, 

completely oblivious to anyone else in the room. Must be 

nice, thought Harry almost resentfully. She was sprawled 

sideways across the chair, feet tucked up beneath her, and 

her head propped on her hand. She was relaxing, he noted. 

If she were nervous or upset she would be curled up into a 

smaller target. It was amazing how many things about her 

he had noticed when he hadn't thought he was paying any 

attention at all. For instance, there was this curve her neck 

made when her head was propped like that. It looked as if 

his face would fit perfectly into that hollow- he bet her hair 

would tickle a little, but it would probably smell very nice. 

He'd have to sit on the arm of the chair, but if he leaned 

down a bit, he could probably... Harry was shocked at 

himself. Even if...even if...he'd never, ever do anything 

like that. It was unthinkable- that's what it was, and yet, he 

had thought it. All of a sudden Harry felt like kicking 

something very hard. He turned his face into the arm of the 

sofa. Something had to be done about this. It 

was...unhealthy. Briefly he considered the hospital wing. 


"Checkmate!" crowed Ron from the table next to him. 

Harry looked over to see that his pieces had completely 

surrounded Hermione's king, who was making a valiant 

last stand with a quill it had commandeered from the table. 

"Your pieces are such bullies, Ron! Make them stop before 

they really hurt him!" 


Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "They're chess pieces, 

Hermione." He pulled her king out of the midst of his, who 

did indeed look ready for a spot of real violence. The king, 

startled, twisted in Ron's hand and gave him a good jab 

with the nib of the quill. "Ow!" Ron dropped the king, who 

lay dazed on the hearthrug, still clutching his weapon. "So 

it's mine that are vicious, then? I'm bleeding now, thanks 

very much." 


"Ah, come on now, don't be such a baby," said Hermione, 

grabbing his injured hand. "It barely broke the skin." She 

kissed it, and said casually, "There, all better now." Ron 

pulled his hand from hers so swiftly he knocked over a 

knight who was peering over the edge of the table. 

Hermione looked startled for a moment, and then a dull 

flush swept up her face as she realized that she had kissed 

Ron. Ron was now busily putting away the chess game, his 

ears nearly the same shade as Hermione's cheeks. "I didn't 

mean-"


"No, no! No reason-" Ron slammed the lid shut on the still 

squirming pieces. He looked up at Hermione, who was 

looking at the tabletop. Harry barely refrained from 

sighing. Well, this was just too much. He wasn't staying 

down here in this menagerie of hormones one moment 

longer. He sat up straight on the sofa and found Ginny 

looking right at him. She was smiling, and she glanced over 

to Ron and Hermione and back at Harry, attempting to 

share the joke. In perhaps the first act of real cowardice in 

his life, he couldn't meet her eyes. They were inviting him 

to be amused along with her, and a few weeks ago, he 

would have found the situation humorous. He would have 

met her eyes without a second thought. Now, instead, he 

tried to pretend that corner of the room didn't exist, and 

didn't quite manage to suppress a sigh.


A/N: If you've gotten this far, I feel I owe you an 

explanation. Oh, I so want Harry to have a terrible, terrible 

crush on Ginny. It's only her due, really. Now, the real 

question: does she still have a crush on Harry? Hmm. I 

don't think I'm entirely sure. I'm too busy being Harry in 

this scenario to know what Ginny really thinks.