A/N: Okay, now this is my first attempt at anything in Harry's time, so don't blame me if it absolutely sucks! Okay, I don't mean that – who else would you blame if this was the worst fan fic you had ever read? But please review nevertheless! This is a D/G and an H/G – and I might throw in some R/Hr too – but only if you make me happy and review!

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Ginny hated snoring. Her mom snored and it drove her nuts when she was at home. But two months wasn't too long. It was the other ten months at school that drove her insane. One of the other girls in her dorm, Alexia Matthews, was a snorer. That wasn't good news. It meant that Ginny spent every night tossing and turning until it was time to get up.

At least in her first year she had had other things on her mind, like Tom Riddle. And in her second year, she had asked Madam Pomfrey to give her a Sleeping Potion every week. (One vial lasted for seven days.) In her third year, she had thought she would go insane anyway after finding out that the only person she had ever looked up to besides three of her brothers didn't care a damn about her. This year, however, she had nothing but snores to listen to or think about. And she was sure that she would be insane by September 2nd.

Sighing, Ginny decided that it wouldn't hurt to go and take a walk around the grounds. After all, she thought, Ron and Harry have done it for ages, and they've never gotten caught. Why should I be the one with the bad luck?

Silently, she slipped out of bed and pulled on a sweater over her pajamas. Strangely, she had always hated nightgowns, and only wore them when she was at home. (Her mom forced her. She thought Ginny should be like other girls.) She was a tomboy by nature, having grown up with six older brothers, and she detested skirts and dresses in any color, shape, and size. Her favorite colors were black and green – most unlike the girls in her year. (A/N: Can anyone guess why?) But more than anything, Ginny detested her name.

Virginia Marie Weasley – what kind of a name was that? She was nothing like the Virgin Mary; it was just too bad that the names shared a resemblance. In truth, she would give anything to have been a boy. For one, she wouldn't have been giving such a disgusting name. She may have been called Virgil, but she could put up with that. At least she would have been a boy. For another, she would've been able to share the bonding that her brothers shared. She would've been one of them – rather than the only female Weasley. And, the thing which she thought of as most important, she wouldn't have had to worry about whether or not Harry Potter liked her.

Harry Potter – he was like the sole purpose of her life now. She didn't know why, but everything about him just made her feel giddy. She could barely frame a whole sentence in his presence without stuttering or blushing. She didn't know when her crush would end, but she hoped that it would soon, for she knew that while everything about Harry turned her on, everything about her turned Harry off. It was just one of those things that couldn't be helped. So, Ginny consoled herself by thinking that at least she was his best friend's sister.

But the one thing that did get in the way was jealousy. Ginny knew that Harry had a crush on Cho, and she resented it. She couldn't help hating her for it. Ginny knew that she shouldn't and that she was being childish, but she was a person of wild thoughts and strange dreams and she wasn't about to give in to her conscience just yet.

As she tiptoed out of the Common Room, wand in hand, she heard a noise from behind her. Being the impatient fourteen-year-old that she was, she hurriedly pushed open the portrait-hole and crawled out, slamming it shut quickly.

"Goodness me isn't it a bit late to be wandering around the castle?" called the Fat Lady.

"Even if it is, you'll keep that fat mouth of yours shut if you're smart," Ginny seethed. She was tired and she wasn't about to let the Fat Lady get in the way of her sleep. She walked a little ways until she came to the entrance to the broom shed.

"Well, I could always practice my flying while I'm at it," she muttered. She slipped through silently, but before she could shut the door she heard a soft meow.

Biting her tongue, she realized that she had let Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, in along with her. She took a swing at her with her foot and felt it connect with the wall instead of with Mrs. Norris' sleek body. She swore in her mind and continued her walk down the dark passage until she was in the broom shed. She looked around and found what she was looking for easily.

Harry was the only one in the school with a Firebolt. He had been the only one, besides her brother, who had ridden one. Now was the time to change that. Ginny grabbed the broom and pulled it through the doorway with her. Once outside, she looked around her at the pitch. She had never seen it at nighttime before. It looked different, almost frightening. A shiver went down her back.

Ginny picked up the broom, and swinging one leg over it, she took off into the night sky. She felt the cool breeze kiss her face softly. If this was flying, then she sure had missed out on something during the past three years. She decided to do a couple of laps around the pitch. It was dark, and she didn't expect to be caught – at least not where she was now.

She was just finishing her first one, when she hit someone in midair. Her head was throbbing, but she was able to right herself nevertheless.

"Ouch – who is that?" said the male voice.

It was one that Ginny recognized, yet she couldn't place it. It was one that she certainly didn't like, however.

"Who's that?" she hissed back.

"I asked first," the boy answered.

Ginny rolled her eyes, but it made her head hurt more, so she stopped. She scrutinized the boy, and from as much as she could tell, he seemed thin and short – maybe he was a second year, or a third year. He couldn't possibly be someone her age – he was too small for that. Okay, so she was small for her age too, but she was an exception.

"Hello, are you planning on asking or not?" his impatient voice called again.

"No, why would I?" Ginny said. She was starting to enjoy annoying this person, even though she couldn't for the life of her figure out whom she was talking to.

"Gryffindors…" he muttered, as he leaned into his broom and dived.

Ginny noticed that he was going pretty fast – almost as fast as Harry's Firebolt went. There weren't many people who had brooms that could reach such high speeds. In fact, the next fastest broom after the Firebolt was the Nimbus Two-Thousand and One – and only seven people in the school had that make – seven Slytherins, in fact…

Then, it hit her who he was. It was Draco Malfoy – the one person whom Harry hated more than anyone else – except for maybe Professor Snape or You-Know-Who. Curious as to what Draco was doing so late out, she followed him silently. He sensed her presence, however, and turned around sharply.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" he asked her. He didn't believe that anyone had the nerve of following him. Okay, so maybe Potter and his stupid gang of Weasleys and Mudbloods might have the nerve of annoying me, but they wouldn't risk House points on the first night of school, would they?

"I'm not trying to do anything. I just wanted to know what a third year would be doing at midnight on today of all days," Ginny said coolly, making sure that she was still in the shadows. She knew now that she was talking to someone a year older than her, but she still felt like teasing him – after all, he didn't know that she knew who he was.

"Do I look like a third year to you?" he yelled.

"Yes," she said, shrugging, unable to keep a grin off of her face.

"What kind of a Gryffindor are you?" he asked her.

"I don't know. You could always call me a Weasley," she said, as she flew into the light that shown down on the edge of the pitch. Ginny heard him let out a gasp as he recognized her red hair.

"What the fuck are you doing here – you stupid git?" he spat.

Glaring at him, she said, "I'd watch my language if I were you. Ron's a prefect this year – God knows why – and if you're not careful you might find yourself doing a week's worth of detentions. I'm sure that would make him happy."

"Prefects can't take points from prefects, Weasley. Didn't you know?" he asked, smirking at her.

Ginny bit her lip. She didn't know that Draco was a prefect – she hadn't expected any of the Slytherins to be prefects. But then, she figured that there had to be at least someone from Slytherin, and Draco did seem the likely choice – after all, there wasn't anything anyone could hold against him with the reputation that Snape held up for him.

"Of course, I knew – but you're forgetting that I have two prefects on my side. I dare say Professor Dumbledore's more likely to listen to Ron and Hermione than you," she hissed back.

"Do you expect a damn Mudblood like that to get me in trouble? Think again, Weasley," Draco answered – his voice full of malice.

"Shut your mouth," Ginny said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, buzz off. I've got enough on my mind without a stupid Weasley on my tail," he said, and with that, he flew off into the distance.

Ginny just watched after him. She knew that she had more than likely bitten off more than she could chew at the moment, but she didn't care. She was tired of being looked at as the sweet Weasley with the 'heart of gold' that she only could have gotten from her mother, and the cute little smile that was definitely her father's. She was sick and tired of it all. She just wanted to chuck it in the garbage. She was fed up with being her parents' perfect little daughter. And for some reason, Draco had brought all these things to mind.

She wasn't sure why, but he had planted these ideas in her mind – just by talking. She wasn't sure why she was giving him the credit – after all, she still hated his guts, but she knew that he had said something or done something that had helped her make her decision.

Ginny leaned into the broom and soared off in the direction Draco had – but stopped by as she reached the broom shed. She listened intently to see if he was still there, and relaxed as she saw that he had gone already. Creeping in silently, she put away Harry's broom carefully in the same position in which she had found it, and walked back up the passageway until she had reached the main hall in the castle. She treaded cautiously, making sure as to not run into Mrs. Norris again.

Two minutes later, she had reached the portrait hole again. The Fat Lady was sleeping in her frame, her head propped up on the side of the painting.

"Hell, wake up sleepyhead! I want to go in! The password is Fagging Felony – now open up!" Ginny squealed.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry – so it's you again, is it? What have you been doing so long?" she asked as she woke up.

"It's none of your business – Fagging Felony!"

"What did you call me?" the Fat Lady asked, raising an eyebrow at the redhead.

"I didn't call you anything – that's the password so hurry up and let me in!" Ginny roared.

"Oh, good heavens, you've got a temper. You mustn't be so rude, honestly!" the lady scolded lightly, swinging open nonetheless.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind…" Ginny said sarcastically as she crawled through.

Yawning heavily, she stretched out her arms and dragged herself up the stairs to her dorm. She slipped inside and took off her sweater. Not bothering to get under the covers, Ginny collapsed on the bed and fell asleep.

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A/N: So, how'd you like it? Was it an okay start, do you think? It wasn't too farfetched, was it? Okay, now, instead of having me ask all the questions, how about having you write me a review, please? That would be nice, you know.