Chapter 7: Flight of Fancy

Malfoy was in a rage about the outcome of the Quidditch match. Whenever he got a chance, he would complain about how he had been cheated out of his win, how it was so unfair that Ginny had illegally fouled him and no one said anything. Everyone found it very amusing that Malfoy of all people was quoting rules and didn't pay any attention to his rantings. His fellow Slytherins didn't even seem to care.

Snape, on the other hand, seemed oddly quiet during classes and during his weekly sessions with Harry. Every time Harry stepped into his office, he would see Snape sitting at his desk, looking at a picture frame. When Snape noticed Harry in the room though, he would quickly tuck the picture away, compose himself, and carry on with the lesson before Harry could see what the picture was.

December came, and the Weasleys invited Harry to spend Christmas break at the Burrow, which Harry readily accepted. As the stress of midterm exams neared, Harry and Ginny decided to take a break on the Quidditch pitch.

"Got it again!" Harry shouted as he snatched up the Snitch. He grinned at Ginny's scowling face as they landed with a crunch on the snow. "Let's see now; that would make the score--" he counted his fingers "--8-4."

"It's not fair!" she declared as she marched over to him. "I'm just as good as you are!"

Harry couldn't resist the chance to gloat. "Ginny, you'll just have to face facts--"

"You just have a better broom!" Ginny interrupted. She looked with distaste at her Cleansweep. "I'll bet that if we switched brooms I would be winning!"

Harry laughed. "You want to ride my Firebolt?"

"Why not? Are you afraid I'll start beating you? If you really are the better player, it shouldn't matter what broom you ride."

Harry stopped laughing. "There's a lot of fancy features on this broom Ginny," he slowly said. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"How hard can it be?" she asked as she stepped closer to him. Harry's grip tightened nervously on his broom handle as Ginny put her hand over his. "Come on Harry, let me ride your broom, please?" she cooed as she smiled sweetly up at him.

Harry hesitated for a moment. As much as he'd like to believe he was better, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was actually right. He tried to come up with some other excuse, but the second he saw her eyes, his mind went blank. He never could say no to those eyes.

"Alright, alright, you can ride it," he finally said. Ginny's eyes brightened as she tried to take the Firebolt, but Harry didn't relinquish the handle. She turned to him with a questioning look. A sly grin slowly spread across his face. "But I'm riding with you this first time."

"Wha--?"

"Well I have to make sure it's safe for you. I don't want you to accidentally fall off, now do I?"

"You're mental--"

"Hey, I ride with you the first time, or no deal. Then you can ride it as many times as you want."

Ginny stared at Harry in disbelief and then looked at the broom. Harry could see that her wish to ride the broom was slowly overpowering her shock at his demand. "Fine," she finally said glumly.

"Good!" Harry congratulated himself for this comeback as he mounted the Firebolt. Maybe I can scare her out of wanting to use it, he thought smugly. He turned to Ginny and cheerfully gestured toward the spot on the broom handle in front of him. Ginny eyed Harry suspiciously as she approached him and then mounted the broom.

Harry reached around Ginny and grabbed the handle in front of her. "Comfortable?" he asked. She nodded. "Right, on three then; one...two...three..."

They kicked off and soared around the field. Eager to show just what the Firebolt could do, Harry started flying at breakneck speeds in wild figure eights and vertical loops. Ginny screamed as they made a particularly fast turn and, letting go of the broom, she quickly wrapped her hands tightly around Harry's arms. Harry chuckled and squeezed her waist. "Don't worry," he whispered in her ear. "I've got you."

As Harry leaned toward her, he caught a whiff of her hair. What is that scent? he wondered distractedly. I can tell it's a flower...it's so light...and delicate...and yet...it's intoxicating...

Without even thinking, Harry nuzzled her hair. It's so soft...

He felt her hands slide down his arms to grab the broom again. Harry rested his chin on her shoulder and slid his hands down the broom handle to cover hers. They're so small...

Light snowflakes started to fall around them as he gently rubbed her hands with his fingers. He pulled her closer and smiled as she leaned back against him. Holding her like this...it felt so natural...so right...Harry suddenly found himself wondering why he hadn't been doing this all along.

Harry had no idea how long they had been flying--minutes, hours--but eventually the Firebolt lowered and landed with a bump, knocking him back to reality. Suddenly Harry realized what he was doing. His eyes widened in shock as he quickly let go of Ginny and scrambled off the broom.

Ginny sat on the broom for a moment and then slowly dismounted to the other side. She turned to Harry with a look of sadness in her eyes.

They stared at each other for a few minutes as Harry tried desperately to think of something--anything--to say. He picked up the Firebolt and, in an attempt to look nonchalant, he started tossing the handle from one hand to the other.

"So--I--er--I--guess we'd better get back to the Tower," Harry finally managed to say. Ginny stared at him for a few more seconds before lowering her eyes and going off to fetch her broom. They walked back to Gryffindor Tower without another word.

This is crazy, Harry thought as he sat in the Great Hall, moodily poking at his shepherd's pie. I cannot have feelings for Ginny! She's Ron's sister, for crying out loud! That practically makes her my sister! What was I thinking? He would kill me! I mean, sure, she fancied me once, but--

He looked down the Gryffindor table at Ginny, who was quietly staring at her plate and rearranging the food with her fork. And sure, she's a lot of fun to be with...she's smart, funny, a great Quidditch player... One of Ginny's friends greeted her and she looked up to say hello. And she is pretty...her hair is like a sunset, her smile brightens up a room, and those eyes...a smile spread across Harry's face.

Just then Ginny glanced down the table at Harry. His eyes widened and he quickly turned back to stare at his plate. I hope she didn't see me looking at her...no, she didn't see me...of course, she saw me...

"Hey Harry!"

"Ron!" Harry whirled around to see Ron sit down next to him. Harry stared at Ron for a few seconds, then stared at his plate again in an attempt to hide the guilt on his face.

Ron eyed Harry curiously. "You alright, mate?"

"Huh? Wha--? Oh, yeah--yeah, I'm fine! Great!" Harry started chopping up his pie with his fork in an effort to look normal. "Couldn't be better!"

Ron studied him for a moment and shrugged. "Listen--tomorrow's a Hogsmeade weekend and I still need to get a Christmas present for Hermione. Could you come with me?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah! Sure! Love to!" Harry answered loudly as he continued to viciously hack at his pie.

Ron looked down at Harry's plate. "Aren't you going to eat that?"

Harry stopped and looked at his pie, which had by now transformed into a pile of unrecognizable goo. "Oh yeah!" He scooped up a big glob and stuffed it in his mouth. He slowly forced himself to swallow the giant mass, then reached for his pumpkin juice, took a gulp, and turned to Ron and choked. Ron and Ginny had the same eyes.

Ron arched an eyebrow. "You sure you're alright?"

"Great!" Harry sputtered as he tried to clear his throat.

Ron studied him for a moment. "Well, okay..." he said uncertainly. "Well, um, I guess I'll see you later."

Harry just nodded and watched Ron walk away. He turned back to his plate, only to realize that his pie now looked completely inedible. He pushed it away in disgust. Your best--friend's--little--sister! he thought exasperatedly. What--were--you--THINKING?