FIC: Five Signs She's Into You, by flyingcarpet
To: quidditchmum
Title: Five Signs She's Into You
Author: flyingcarpet, formerly r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,500 words
Summary: Harry tries to figure out how Ginny feels about him, with the help of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches.
Author's Notes: Book sections are drawn from this article, which was my inspiration for this story. I hope you like it, quidditchmum! Thanks to lyras for beta-reading.
"What's up with you and my sister?" Ron asked, pulling a frosty butterbeer out of the fridge and popping it open without offering Harry one. Everyone else had been asking him the same question. Just... the rest of them were a bit more subtle.
"Why don't you ask her?" Harry answered, crossing his arms and frowning at the refrigerator. The truth was that he had no idea. Girls were too bloody confusing.
"Because I'm asking you," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
Instead of answering, Harry walked past Ron to the fridge and got out a butterbeer of his own. "D'you think anyone's invented a spell that explains what girls are thinking?" he asked.
"I wish," Ron said fervently, and that was the end of that conversation.
But when Harry got back to his room, he remembered that he did have a guide to girls -- the book Ron had given him for his seventeenth birthday. After a bit of searching, he found Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches next to his old Charms textbook, and flipped it open.
Right near the beginning was a section titled, "Five Signs She's Into You." Harry smiled and dropped down onto the bed, stretching out comfortably as he began to read. This looked like it would be the perfect answer to his problem.
1. She fixes herself up.
“If she’s into you, she’ll be concerned with how she looks,” says Araminta James, author of the forthcoming Better Off Wed?
Harry thought about it. Ginny always looked great, of course, but he didn't really remember her fixing her hair or fiddling with her jewelry very much like the book suggested. In fact, she hardly ever wore any jewelry. There was that one time last month at the pub, though. It sort of qualified.
Harry was sitting at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron one afternoon, enjoying some fish and chips and chatting with Hannah behind the bar, when Ginny appeared next to him.
"Harry, thank Merlin," Ginny said, resting one hand on his shoulder and reaching around him with the other to steal several of his chips. "I'm starving."
He glanced up at her and blinked. She was wearing dress robes trimmed with lace, a string of pearls clasped around her neck, and her long red hair fell down her back in elaborate ringlets. Her face even looked different, as if she'd applied cosmetic charms. It was weird. There was even some kind of green glittery stuff on her eyelids.
"Uh, Gin?" he said. He was about to ask What happened to you? and then realized that would likely get him hexed. "You look nice," he said instead.
"Had to go to Fleur's baby shower," she said abruptly, before helping herself to a piece of fried fish off Harry's plate. "It was bloody awful, no good food in the entire place."
"Sounds horrible," Harry said, trying not to laugh.
Then she picked up her wand and pointed it at the back of her head. As Harry watched, her hair twisted itself into some kind of complex copper-colored knot and two hairpins appeared out of nowhere, sticking through to hold it in place. The graceful curve of her pale neck was exposed, and Harry wondered what it would taste like if he ran his tongue along that one spot--
Ginny rolled her eyes, seemingly unaware of Harry's thoughts. "You have no idea," she said. "Have a drink with me? I need one after all that nonalcoholic punch."
"Of course," Harry said, and signaled Hannah for two more pints.
2. She asks about your family.
“I think family is very revealing about a wizard's personality,” says Celestina Andreadis, 28, of Hogsmeade. “If he’s close to his family, it shows that he’s probably a warm person who values relationships and who would want a family of his own. If I am not interested in him, I won’t even ask because I just don’t care.”
Harry winced. If his relationship with his family was going to be the determining factor with girls, he was doomed. Thankfully, Ginny didn't seem to care much about them.
"Is that really everything this time?" Ginny asked, gesturing at the trunk.
"There's not much left," Harry said, looking around his old bedroom. Aside from the bare mattress, the empty shelves, and a few clumps of dust in the corners, there was nothing in sight.
"Well, you don't want to forget something and have to come back," Ginny said sensibly. Harry just nodded, grateful that he didn't have to explain how difficult it was to deal with his aunt and uncle. "Here, levitate the bookshelf and make sure nothing's fallen behind."
"Erm." Harry looked around the room, as if one of the dust bunnies might be a Ministry spy in disguise.
"You're of age now," Ginny reminded him.
"Right, of course," Harry said. It was a bit stupid of him, really: he'd been using magic freely for over a year now, but it still felt wrong in the Dursleys' house. He remembered all too clearly what it'd felt like to be punished for a spell he hadn't even cast, or one he hadn't meant to cast.
After a moment, he realized that Ginny was waiting for him to do something. She wasn't tapping her foot or checking her watch or letting out big huffy sighs, but she had crossed to the window and was looking out at the street as if trying to pass the time.
"Right," Harry said again. He pulled out his wand and gave it a swish and flick, lifting the large bookshelf several inches above the carpet. Behind it, there were several broken toys and one aggressive-looking copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, its toothy covers snapping maniacally.
"I reckon we can leave that stuff for the Muggles to find," Ginny said briskly. "Nothing you need, eh?"
Harry grinned and let the bookshelf drift back into place. He could hear the book throwing itself against the back of the shelf, still snapping out of anger or hunger.
"Yeah," he said. "Let's get out of here, now. Quick before they come back."
3. She's attentive.
“If she’s not checking her watch or admiring the restaurant decor, it’s just one more sign that she’s paying attention to you,” says James. “When you like a guy, you’re hanging on his every word. When you don’t, you’re distracted easily."
Frowning, Harry thought that this was the most confusing item yet. Sometimes Ginny seemed very focused and interested in what he had to say. But other times it was as though she were paying attention to everything but him.
"Does that witch look familiar to you?" Ginny asked, peering into the raucous crowd gathered around the bar at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Which witch?" Harry asked, looking away from where her fingertips were tracing patterns on the tabletop. There must have been a hundred people crowded into the small space, laughing and talking and even dancing. The only one he knew was standing behind the bar. "Hannah?"
"Obviously Hannah looks familiar, you eat supper here three times a week," Ginny said. Harry didn't bother to tell her that he frequently had lunch there, too.
"So why did you ask?"
"I don't mean Hannah, you berk." Ginny's voice sounded affectionate, but she was pulling her hand away from Harry's and standing up. "I'm gonna go see if it was her."
Harry watched as Ginny walked away, her hips swinging as she walked. The crowd around the bar parted slightly to admit her, and then she disappeared from view.
A moment later, the bar echoed with a loud bang and a puff of blue smoke rose up to the ceiling.
"And stay away from him, you scandalmonger!" someone shouted. It wasn't until she came stomping back to the table that Harry realized the voice had been Ginny's.
"Uh, Ginny?" Harry asked, as she sat down and picked up her sandwich, for all the world as if hexing some poor unsuspecting bystander was a normal break from a meal. "What was that?"
"Tentacle hex," Ginny said shortly. "It'll wear off in a week or so."
Harry just looked at her.
"What? I just wanted to have a little chat with your friend Romilda about her article from last week. You know, the one where she called you 'delusional'?"
A warm feeling spread through Harry's chest and into his stomach. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, not knowing what to say, and settled for giving Ginny a small smile. Hopefully she knew what he meant.
4. She's touchy-feely
If you find your date engaging in a little physical contact along with witty banter, chances are you’ve made a very good impression. From tapping your knee to emphasize a point or touching your forearm to get your attention, if a woman’s attracted to you, she won’t hesitate to reach out and let you know.
Harry had to read the paragraph several times over just to think about it. Well, sure, Ginny seemed to feel comfortable giving him little touches on the elbow or the knee now and then, hugs hello and goodbye, that kind of thing. But those didn't mean anything, right? Why on earth didn't this stupid book elaborate on the difference between the right kind of touch and the irrelevant kind?
"Oh, Harry! Did you see that?" She grabbed his elbow and hung on, her body pressed against his, and he was ultra-aware of her breasts pushing against his shoulder.
"Great play," he said weakly, but if anyone asked, he couldn't say if it was the Cannons or the Arrows she was talking about, if the play was offensive or defensive or what. He could hardly remember what stadium they were in.
"If this is the year that the Cannons finally break the curse and win the championship, I am going to actually explode," Ginny said. "You'll have to perform a containment charm on me just to keep me together, I'm absolutely serious."
Harry could have used a containment charm just then himself.
5. The date lasts longer than you expected.
Ask any woman desperate to wind down a date, and she’ll tell you she skips dessert or declines an after-dinner stroll. Naturally, then, if she’s having a great time and doesn’t want to see you go, she’ll gladly take the waiter’s suggestion and try the treacle tart, or walk with you to the Apparition point. And if you’ve agreed to meet for coffee and after a few sips she takes you up on your offer of dinner? That’s a bright green light, my friend.
This was obviously supposed to be the clincher, the thing that really brought the article home to the reader, but it only left Harry feeling even more confused. Sure, the time he spent with Ginny often ended up stretching into late nights and extra hours, but that didn't really mean anything... did it?
"I s'pose it's time to go home," Harry said. "There's work tomorrow and all that."
Ginny's hair seemed to glitter under the fairy lights of Diagon Alley, and her eyes were full of laughter. Harry wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and keep her with him for the rest of the night. But try as he might, he couldn't think of a single excuse to hold her there, or anything he could say to make it seem sensible.
"I'll walk you home," Ginny volunteered. "I think I left my jumper there last time."
"All right," Harry agreed, relieved. As they walked along, her shoulder bumped against his and he felt his entire body grow warm, expanding outward from that spot.
When they arrived at the flat that Harry shared with Ron and George, the jumper was there, neatly draped over the arm of the sofa. "Oh good," Ginny said, sounding anything but pleased. "I don't even have to look for it."
"So, erm, I guess I'll see you next time," Harry said.
Ginny gave him a look that he couldn't decipher, clutched the jumper tightly in her arms, and Apparated away with a loud pop.
A knock on the door interrupted Harry's reading. "Yeah," he called, assuming it was Ron.
Instead, it was a different ginger head that appeared in the doorway.
"Uh, Ginny," Harry said, fumbling to hide the book before she could see it.
"Hullo, Harry," she said. Her voice was warm but there was a slight edge to it that Harry couldn't quite identify. It sounded almost as if she were angry with him, but he hadn't done anything other than be a true and loyal friend to her recently. At least, he thought that was right.
Moving gracefully, as if it were an entirely natural thing to do, and not at all sneaky or vicious, Ginny reached under Harry's pillow and pulled out his well-worn copy of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Harry felt like he might vomit.
"A little light reading?" she asked, arching one eyebrow as she sat down beside him.
"It's stupid, really," Harry said, the sick feeling beginning to overwhelm his stomach and spread to the rest of his body. "Ron gave it to me." He sat up, feeling a little better once he was eye to eye with her. Somehow, holding this conversation while lying down had felt especially humiliating.
"I'll bet," Ginny said. "Anything good in there?"
"Uh, no," Harry said. "Not at all, actually." The book had been spectacularly unhelpful, in fact. It was sort of like trying to read tea leaves in Professor Trelawney's class had been.
"I don't see why you need that book anyway," Ginny said, setting it aside. "It's blokes that are the confusing ones."
Harry couldn't help it: he laughed. But when he looked at Ginny, he found that she wasn't smiling or laughing along. She had turned her face away and was looking down at the book, tracing the cover with one finger. Could bold, hex-happy Ginny Weasley be uncertain of a guy? Was it even possible?
Strangely enough, Harry felt a little better. He wasn't the only one who was lost. Sure, he had no idea what he was doing. But Ginny was one of the most confident, capable people he knew. If even Ginny Weasley could have a moment of doubt, then surely it could happen to anyone.
"Maybe," Harry said, boldly reaching out one hand and laying it atop Ginny's, "maybe there's a spell that'll explain what your bloke is thinking."
Slowly, Ginny turned her hand over and pressed her palm to his, then interlaced their fingers. When she finally looked up and met Harry's eyes, she was smiling.
"Maybe I don't need a spell," she said.
As she leaned closer, Harry was surprised to realize that he didn't need a spell to help him understand, either. This time, he knew just what Ginny wanted.
Title: Five Signs She's Into You
Author: flyingcarpet, formerly r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,500 words
Summary: Harry tries to figure out how Ginny feels about him, with the help of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches.
Author's Notes: Book sections are drawn from this article, which was my inspiration for this story. I hope you like it, quidditchmum! Thanks to lyras for beta-reading.
"What's up with you and my sister?" Ron asked, pulling a frosty butterbeer out of the fridge and popping it open without offering Harry one. Everyone else had been asking him the same question. Just... the rest of them were a bit more subtle.
"Why don't you ask her?" Harry answered, crossing his arms and frowning at the refrigerator. The truth was that he had no idea. Girls were too bloody confusing.
"Because I'm asking you," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
Instead of answering, Harry walked past Ron to the fridge and got out a butterbeer of his own. "D'you think anyone's invented a spell that explains what girls are thinking?" he asked.
"I wish," Ron said fervently, and that was the end of that conversation.
But when Harry got back to his room, he remembered that he did have a guide to girls -- the book Ron had given him for his seventeenth birthday. After a bit of searching, he found Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches next to his old Charms textbook, and flipped it open.
Right near the beginning was a section titled, "Five Signs She's Into You." Harry smiled and dropped down onto the bed, stretching out comfortably as he began to read. This looked like it would be the perfect answer to his problem.
1. She fixes herself up.
“If she’s into you, she’ll be concerned with how she looks,” says Araminta James, author of the forthcoming Better Off Wed?
Harry thought about it. Ginny always looked great, of course, but he didn't really remember her fixing her hair or fiddling with her jewelry very much like the book suggested. In fact, she hardly ever wore any jewelry. There was that one time last month at the pub, though. It sort of qualified.
Harry was sitting at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron one afternoon, enjoying some fish and chips and chatting with Hannah behind the bar, when Ginny appeared next to him.
"Harry, thank Merlin," Ginny said, resting one hand on his shoulder and reaching around him with the other to steal several of his chips. "I'm starving."
He glanced up at her and blinked. She was wearing dress robes trimmed with lace, a string of pearls clasped around her neck, and her long red hair fell down her back in elaborate ringlets. Her face even looked different, as if she'd applied cosmetic charms. It was weird. There was even some kind of green glittery stuff on her eyelids.
"Uh, Gin?" he said. He was about to ask What happened to you? and then realized that would likely get him hexed. "You look nice," he said instead.
"Had to go to Fleur's baby shower," she said abruptly, before helping herself to a piece of fried fish off Harry's plate. "It was bloody awful, no good food in the entire place."
"Sounds horrible," Harry said, trying not to laugh.
Then she picked up her wand and pointed it at the back of her head. As Harry watched, her hair twisted itself into some kind of complex copper-colored knot and two hairpins appeared out of nowhere, sticking through to hold it in place. The graceful curve of her pale neck was exposed, and Harry wondered what it would taste like if he ran his tongue along that one spot--
Ginny rolled her eyes, seemingly unaware of Harry's thoughts. "You have no idea," she said. "Have a drink with me? I need one after all that nonalcoholic punch."
"Of course," Harry said, and signaled Hannah for two more pints.
2. She asks about your family.
“I think family is very revealing about a wizard's personality,” says Celestina Andreadis, 28, of Hogsmeade. “If he’s close to his family, it shows that he’s probably a warm person who values relationships and who would want a family of his own. If I am not interested in him, I won’t even ask because I just don’t care.”
Harry winced. If his relationship with his family was going to be the determining factor with girls, he was doomed. Thankfully, Ginny didn't seem to care much about them.
"Is that really everything this time?" Ginny asked, gesturing at the trunk.
"There's not much left," Harry said, looking around his old bedroom. Aside from the bare mattress, the empty shelves, and a few clumps of dust in the corners, there was nothing in sight.
"Well, you don't want to forget something and have to come back," Ginny said sensibly. Harry just nodded, grateful that he didn't have to explain how difficult it was to deal with his aunt and uncle. "Here, levitate the bookshelf and make sure nothing's fallen behind."
"Erm." Harry looked around the room, as if one of the dust bunnies might be a Ministry spy in disguise.
"You're of age now," Ginny reminded him.
"Right, of course," Harry said. It was a bit stupid of him, really: he'd been using magic freely for over a year now, but it still felt wrong in the Dursleys' house. He remembered all too clearly what it'd felt like to be punished for a spell he hadn't even cast, or one he hadn't meant to cast.
After a moment, he realized that Ginny was waiting for him to do something. She wasn't tapping her foot or checking her watch or letting out big huffy sighs, but she had crossed to the window and was looking out at the street as if trying to pass the time.
"Right," Harry said again. He pulled out his wand and gave it a swish and flick, lifting the large bookshelf several inches above the carpet. Behind it, there were several broken toys and one aggressive-looking copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, its toothy covers snapping maniacally.
"I reckon we can leave that stuff for the Muggles to find," Ginny said briskly. "Nothing you need, eh?"
Harry grinned and let the bookshelf drift back into place. He could hear the book throwing itself against the back of the shelf, still snapping out of anger or hunger.
"Yeah," he said. "Let's get out of here, now. Quick before they come back."
3. She's attentive.
“If she’s not checking her watch or admiring the restaurant decor, it’s just one more sign that she’s paying attention to you,” says James. “When you like a guy, you’re hanging on his every word. When you don’t, you’re distracted easily."
Frowning, Harry thought that this was the most confusing item yet. Sometimes Ginny seemed very focused and interested in what he had to say. But other times it was as though she were paying attention to everything but him.
"Does that witch look familiar to you?" Ginny asked, peering into the raucous crowd gathered around the bar at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Which witch?" Harry asked, looking away from where her fingertips were tracing patterns on the tabletop. There must have been a hundred people crowded into the small space, laughing and talking and even dancing. The only one he knew was standing behind the bar. "Hannah?"
"Obviously Hannah looks familiar, you eat supper here three times a week," Ginny said. Harry didn't bother to tell her that he frequently had lunch there, too.
"So why did you ask?"
"I don't mean Hannah, you berk." Ginny's voice sounded affectionate, but she was pulling her hand away from Harry's and standing up. "I'm gonna go see if it was her."
Harry watched as Ginny walked away, her hips swinging as she walked. The crowd around the bar parted slightly to admit her, and then she disappeared from view.
A moment later, the bar echoed with a loud bang and a puff of blue smoke rose up to the ceiling.
"And stay away from him, you scandalmonger!" someone shouted. It wasn't until she came stomping back to the table that Harry realized the voice had been Ginny's.
"Uh, Ginny?" Harry asked, as she sat down and picked up her sandwich, for all the world as if hexing some poor unsuspecting bystander was a normal break from a meal. "What was that?"
"Tentacle hex," Ginny said shortly. "It'll wear off in a week or so."
Harry just looked at her.
"What? I just wanted to have a little chat with your friend Romilda about her article from last week. You know, the one where she called you 'delusional'?"
A warm feeling spread through Harry's chest and into his stomach. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, not knowing what to say, and settled for giving Ginny a small smile. Hopefully she knew what he meant.
4. She's touchy-feely
If you find your date engaging in a little physical contact along with witty banter, chances are you’ve made a very good impression. From tapping your knee to emphasize a point or touching your forearm to get your attention, if a woman’s attracted to you, she won’t hesitate to reach out and let you know.
Harry had to read the paragraph several times over just to think about it. Well, sure, Ginny seemed to feel comfortable giving him little touches on the elbow or the knee now and then, hugs hello and goodbye, that kind of thing. But those didn't mean anything, right? Why on earth didn't this stupid book elaborate on the difference between the right kind of touch and the irrelevant kind?
"Oh, Harry! Did you see that?" She grabbed his elbow and hung on, her body pressed against his, and he was ultra-aware of her breasts pushing against his shoulder.
"Great play," he said weakly, but if anyone asked, he couldn't say if it was the Cannons or the Arrows she was talking about, if the play was offensive or defensive or what. He could hardly remember what stadium they were in.
"If this is the year that the Cannons finally break the curse and win the championship, I am going to actually explode," Ginny said. "You'll have to perform a containment charm on me just to keep me together, I'm absolutely serious."
Harry could have used a containment charm just then himself.
5. The date lasts longer than you expected.
Ask any woman desperate to wind down a date, and she’ll tell you she skips dessert or declines an after-dinner stroll. Naturally, then, if she’s having a great time and doesn’t want to see you go, she’ll gladly take the waiter’s suggestion and try the treacle tart, or walk with you to the Apparition point. And if you’ve agreed to meet for coffee and after a few sips she takes you up on your offer of dinner? That’s a bright green light, my friend.
This was obviously supposed to be the clincher, the thing that really brought the article home to the reader, but it only left Harry feeling even more confused. Sure, the time he spent with Ginny often ended up stretching into late nights and extra hours, but that didn't really mean anything... did it?
"I s'pose it's time to go home," Harry said. "There's work tomorrow and all that."
Ginny's hair seemed to glitter under the fairy lights of Diagon Alley, and her eyes were full of laughter. Harry wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and keep her with him for the rest of the night. But try as he might, he couldn't think of a single excuse to hold her there, or anything he could say to make it seem sensible.
"I'll walk you home," Ginny volunteered. "I think I left my jumper there last time."
"All right," Harry agreed, relieved. As they walked along, her shoulder bumped against his and he felt his entire body grow warm, expanding outward from that spot.
When they arrived at the flat that Harry shared with Ron and George, the jumper was there, neatly draped over the arm of the sofa. "Oh good," Ginny said, sounding anything but pleased. "I don't even have to look for it."
"So, erm, I guess I'll see you next time," Harry said.
Ginny gave him a look that he couldn't decipher, clutched the jumper tightly in her arms, and Apparated away with a loud pop.
A knock on the door interrupted Harry's reading. "Yeah," he called, assuming it was Ron.
Instead, it was a different ginger head that appeared in the doorway.
"Uh, Ginny," Harry said, fumbling to hide the book before she could see it.
"Hullo, Harry," she said. Her voice was warm but there was a slight edge to it that Harry couldn't quite identify. It sounded almost as if she were angry with him, but he hadn't done anything other than be a true and loyal friend to her recently. At least, he thought that was right.
Moving gracefully, as if it were an entirely natural thing to do, and not at all sneaky or vicious, Ginny reached under Harry's pillow and pulled out his well-worn copy of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Harry felt like he might vomit.
"A little light reading?" she asked, arching one eyebrow as she sat down beside him.
"It's stupid, really," Harry said, the sick feeling beginning to overwhelm his stomach and spread to the rest of his body. "Ron gave it to me." He sat up, feeling a little better once he was eye to eye with her. Somehow, holding this conversation while lying down had felt especially humiliating.
"I'll bet," Ginny said. "Anything good in there?"
"Uh, no," Harry said. "Not at all, actually." The book had been spectacularly unhelpful, in fact. It was sort of like trying to read tea leaves in Professor Trelawney's class had been.
"I don't see why you need that book anyway," Ginny said, setting it aside. "It's blokes that are the confusing ones."
Harry couldn't help it: he laughed. But when he looked at Ginny, he found that she wasn't smiling or laughing along. She had turned her face away and was looking down at the book, tracing the cover with one finger. Could bold, hex-happy Ginny Weasley be uncertain of a guy? Was it even possible?
Strangely enough, Harry felt a little better. He wasn't the only one who was lost. Sure, he had no idea what he was doing. But Ginny was one of the most confident, capable people he knew. If even Ginny Weasley could have a moment of doubt, then surely it could happen to anyone.
"Maybe," Harry said, boldly reaching out one hand and laying it atop Ginny's, "maybe there's a spell that'll explain what your bloke is thinking."
Slowly, Ginny turned her hand over and pressed her palm to his, then interlaced their fingers. When she finally looked up and met Harry's eyes, she was smiling.
"Maybe I don't need a spell," she said.
As she leaned closer, Harry was surprised to realize that he didn't need a spell to help him understand, either. This time, he knew just what Ginny wanted.