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Hey, school started and it's really hard to find the time to update, sorry it took so long! Please review! I really appreciate it! It's my first story!

Chapter 4

The Game We Play

Quidditch fever seeped through the very walls of the castle. Everybody was a little antsy. Although the first match was Gryffindor and Hufflepuff (Gryffindor won naturally) all were anticipating the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match the next day.

Much to Ginny's exasperation, November made the team as beater. She had a knack at whacking the bludger with a force you wouldn't suppose somebody that small would have. She also had an uncanny knack at hitting it dangerously close to Ginny.

She needed the edge, November thought. To Ginny, all games were the same now. She played seamlessly but with no heart, no desire. She couldn't be reprimanded but she couldn't be congratulated. The games blurred into one another and she couldn't remember what happened or when. There was no excitement, just monotonous repetition. She'd score a few goals, the other team would try to catch up and Harry would catch the snitch. But November could see a spark, a glimmer of excitement of will when she hit the bludger dangerously close to her only to swerve expertly and hit the opposing team.

Draco noticed too. Something new and brilliant had to happen and soon. He could see the spark that annoying November probed. He had had a few run ins with November himself. She was a snarky little witch and because she was a first year that gave her the benefit of the doubt. She had tripped him up in his own robes and when he turned around to pummel her she was trembling beside Professor McGonagall. He had gotten a detention for "terrorizing" her. Who knew those hazel eyes could get so big?

"Do you know what would shock the poor little Weaslette out into living?" Blaise asked nonchalantly the night before the big game.

"What?" asked Draco perturbed.

Blaise sat bolt upright and his indigo eyes bore into his own steely ones.

"Win the match."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"That way you could beat Potter and try to jolt the Weasley. You'd be killing two birds with one stone. Just win."

Draco sneered, " I intend to."

Truth be told he hadn't forgotten the Weasley. But the importance of the game was weighing heavily on him. And if he got her riled up, he knew that she could pose a threat. But which was more important. Winning or losing the Weasel to herself.

He shook himself and fell into a fretful sleep.

The cool October day was brisk and biting. Orange and red and magenta leaves crinkled in the air.

Harry marched onto the fields the red robes billowing behind his team. The formed an impressive lot. Even November with her fierce black hair and sharp features but her knowing dreamy eyes seemed abstract. Ron held his head high and proud.

The Slytherins were just as intimidating. They always were. Draco snarled at Harry and nodded to Madame Hooch to let her know they were ready. At her whistle they took off into the blinding yellow sun.

The intensity whirled and the game grew physical. Goyle jammed his elbow into Ginny's gut and she whirled around, her eyes flashing. Both teams were taking a beating and neither were backing down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw somebody pull November's long braid and she whipped around and clubbed him with her bat.

Way to go! Ginny inwardly cheered. And soon enough a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She accepted the war the changes but that didn't mean life was over. She still had a life to live and she wouldn't be pushed around.

Ginny's old nature took over. Her hair turned lose like a fiery bird and she wouldn't be pushed around. The change was enormous, but only to those who looked. November saw it. Draco saw it. His insides lurched. And as his body lurched forward as well he caught the snitch.

Harry's eyes grew wide with surprise and torment. He lost.

Even though the team was despairing Ginny felt better than she had since she had in a very long time. She cared that her team had just lost. And being able to hurt felt good.

On her way in Draco was sweeping past her. She was ready for an arrogant remark ready for his words that stung like barbed wire and she was ready to fight.

"Good game," he commended leaving her gaping openmouthed in the autumn leaves.

What the hell? She thought. Draco Malfoy just said good game? Something has got to be wrong.

And just like that, Ginny WEasley was finally Ginny WEasley again and ready to face the world, and more importantly, Draco Malfoy.