Hermione couldn’t stop smiling as she drove home. She turned her music up, rolled her windows down and for a moment wondered if that was how Draco felt when he flew down the street on his bike. She hardly  ever  rolled her windows down, it always made a mess of her hair. But after that kiss, after that date... she didn’t care about the wind whipping her hair around. Yes, she was still safely buckled into her car, but for a moment she pretended. It was freeing. Wild. 