Once she was up in the air, nothing seemed to matter anymore. The wind whipped her silky red hair around her face, but she didn't care. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had been agonizing over whether Harry's love for her was true or not. She let out a joyful laugh, which the wind stole away as soon as it left her mouth. This is freedom, she thought. This is what I was born for.

Malfoy was just getting ready to fly up on his broom to practice for his upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw (and get away from Zabini's insufferably inflated ego), when he saw a figure already in the sky. The person was too far away to tell who it was, but he could still tell that whoever it was, they were good.

Lifting a hand to shade his eyes from the glaring sun, Malfoy followed the person as they went through several advanced flight formations and techniques. He couldn't help but let out a slow whistle of admiration. The person had perfect control over their broom. It looked like a dance in midair instead of simple flying.

He blinked as the figure flew closer. No, it couldn't be. Weaselette?

"Hey ferret boy. Nice day for flying isn't it?" Ginny called down to him from above. Cheeks flushed and soft chocolate brown eyes sparkling, she looked incredible even with her windblown red hair, an old Weird Sisters shirt on, and faded blue jeans. She was absolutely beautiful.

Wait, what? The Weaselette? What was wrong with him? How could he describe her like that when he knew she was a Weasley? A blood traitor? Not to mention Scarhead's little girlfriend. . . .

Ginny's smirk had an uncanny resemblance to his own signature smirk. Who knew she had such adorable lips? Disgusted at the direction his thoughts were taking, he scowled back at her, his eyes darkening to slate.

The scowl seemed to have no effect on the younger girl, because she simply laughed and flew low enough to be at eye level with him. "Come on Malfoy. Live a little. Sheesh, you're almost as uptight as Harry," she goaded him, knowing that comparing him to his nemesis would make him furious. It seemed to work, because he narrowed his eyes and jumped on his broom. Ginny let out a grin in his direction.

The two had the whole field to themselves. Everybody else was either at Hogsmead by now or holed up in the castle. Soaring high into the sky, Ginny felt such peace as she only felt when she was flying. A glance over at Malfoy showed that he must be feeling something similar because she had never seen him as relaxed as he was now.

His pale face was smooth and rather handsome without his usual sneer on it. The wind tossed his silky platinum hair in his eyes, but he made no move to push it away. Staring deep into his brilliant silver eyes, she noticed a sparkle there that she had never seen before. This is what he really feels, she thought. This is the one time when he can let go, and just exist.

Suddenly, he turned his head towards her and stared back at her. Ginny's breath caught as something foreign rushed through her. It was as if they shared a connection at that moment. It became too much, and she forced herself to rip her gaze away from his smoldering eyes. Blast those eyes!

"Well seeing as everybody is at Hogsmead and we have the whole pitch to ourselves, why don't we play some Quidditch? One on one? You look like you could use some practice." He smirked, his mask coming over him once more. Ginny rolled her eyes but nodded.

They played one on one Quidditch for a while, the time passing swiftly. Because there were only two of them, they both played all positions. Ginny had to admit, he was good. Very good in fact. His movements had a gracefulness to them that many spent their whole lives trying to achieve but never did.

Practicing with him was drastically different from practicing with Harry. It always seemed as if Harry held back when flying with her. As if he didn't think she had the skill to compete on his level. It didn't matter that she had taught herself to fly by sneaking out and playing on her brother's brooms for eleven years.

Malfoy, on the other hand, held nothing back. He used every ounce of skill he had in him against her. Practicing with him gave her a thrill that Harry never could. It scared her. And delighted her.

What was going on with her? Why did she feel like this around Malfoy? He had always tormented her and her family. Now, she felt at such ease with him as if they were best friends or something. It's just because I'm flying, she reasoned desperately with herself. It has nothing to do with him. Or how good looking he is flying around on his broom like that. . . .

All too soon, darkness fell. Ginny reluctantly waved to Malfoy, signaling she was going down. Nodding back at her, he dived down with her. By the time they got to the ground, both were panting from the rush of diving towards the ground at such high speeds. Running a hand through her messy red hair, she decided to put it up in a casual ponytail.

"I really had a great time today. In fact, I'm actually kind of glad Harry was busy with Ron and Hermonie now," Ginny told him without thinking. He turned towards her, surprised. An uncertain look flitted across his face as she held her breath. Then the mask fell down on his face once more.

"What, Potter have better things to do than baby-sit his sidekick's little sister?" he drawled in a cruelly mocking tone. Ginny glared at him then spun around smartly, her ponytail smacking him in the face with a satisfying 'thwack'. She marched towards Hogwarts with her broom on her shoulder and her head held high. Her silky hair swung back and forth with each step.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that had cut. She didn't want to think about Harry. Not now. Not when she had finally let go of her insecurities. She absently wiped a few tears from her eyes.

Malfoy watched her storm away, the wind making loose strands of hair dance around her face. Her comment had surprised him. What did she mean by that? Why did it matter so much?

Snap out of it Malfoy, he commanded himself sternly. It's just the Weaselette after all. Not like it's anybody important. A carefully blank look replaced his confused one. He was a Malfoy, and she was a Weasley. They could never be anything more than enemies. A little voice in the back of his head whispered, If she's your enemy, then why did you have so much fun with her?