"This is total rubbish!"

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. They had only minutes ago arrived and joined Hermione by the fire in the Common Room, feeling that wonderful drowsiness that followed gorging on treacle tarts and pumpkin juice. She had been-they assumed-finishing up her potion's essay that wasn't due for three more days, when suddenly she had an uncharacteristic outburst.

"All right, Hermione?" Harry asked, turning toward her. Ron paused from setting up a game of chess.

"Hm?" She looked up from the scroll she was reading, her brow furrowed. "Oh, yes, yes, everything's fine."

As Ron and Harry turned back to their chess game, Hermione mumbled, "Except for this nonsense."

"Knight to G3," Harry said, cautiously studying Ron's face. As soon as his piece began to move, Ron revealed a slight smirk. Harry sighed. Two minutes into this bloody game and he already knows how he'll beat me.

Behind them, Hermione huffed and muttered, "Honestly..."

"Let's see it, then." Ron said. He pushed himself up from the floor into a seated position and turned to face her.

"See what?" Hermione slid back several inches, holding the scroll protectively against her.

"Oh, come on now Hermione. Tell us what's left you completely barmy, muttering to yourself like some nutter, so that we can get back to Harry losing chess in peace and quiet."

"Oi!" Harry added, feigning offense.

Hermione sighed deeply and stared pensively at the fire for a moment. Finally, she relented. Clearing her voice, she read (with a tone of contempt straight through):

Hermione Jean Granger:

This serves as the third and final notice of your delinquency in completing the necessary and required flying test. You have until the 15th of October to report for the test. Failure to complete and pass this test before this date may result in disciplinary action, including, but not limited to, academic probation.

Harry took the letter from Hermione and studied it.

Ron simply looked at her, dumbfounded. "Delinquency...?"

"It means a failure to do..." she began.

"I know what it means. I'm just gobsmacked it would be used in the same sentence as your name. It's obviously some mistake. We took our flying tests in our first year!"

Hermione blushed and shifted her gaze to the floor.

"Hermione, you did take your flying test first year, didn't you?" Harry asked, handing the scroll to Ron to examine.

"Well, not exactly. You both know how much I dislike flying..."

"Yeah, and all of England knows how much I despise potions, but that doesn't mean I get to skip the exam!" said Ron.

"When I went for my flying test the first time, Madam Hooch was so intimidating and I was so nervous. I couldn't do it! I was completely incompetent. I'd never felt that way before!"

Ron snorted.

Hermione, ignoring him, continued, "I asked for a postponement and, thankfully, was given one."

Ron held up the scroll, "But this says 'third and final notice'..."

"Well, I asked twice more for postponements after that," she explained meekly. "I suppose I hoped they would have just realized how absolutely pointless it is to learn to fly and that I'm in many ways a very good student and..."

"You're in every way a good student," Ron said impulsively, a warm blush appearing suddenly on his freckled cheeks, before adding, "But you're starkers if you think learning to fly is pointless."

"Ron's right. It really is worth knowing how to do. You can't apparate everywhere or rely on the floo network."

"Yeah," Ron added, "And it's bloody difficult getting a portkey."

Hermione straightened her shoulders indignantly, "You do realize there are other forms of transportation? Non-magical forms?"

Ron burst out laughing, "You can't possibly mean daft muggle vehicles? Like cars and trains? Even an old Bluebottle broom would be better than that!"

"Oh! So suddenly the Hogwarts Express is daft, is it?!"

"Settle down," said Harry. "The scroll says you have until the 15th of October. That's less than a week away."

"I know," she said miserably, burying her face in her hands.

Harry shrugged, "Well, at least it's a pretty easy fix."

"What could possibly be an easy fix to this situation? I've looked at every book on how to fly. Unless...do you have one I may have missed?" Her voice took on a desperate tone.

Ron laughed, "Only you would think you could learn to fly from a book."

"No, I haven't any books to suggest, but I can think of something much better." Harry smiled, and clapped Ron on the shoulder. Both Ron and Hermione waited for him to elaborate, not following his train of thought.

Harry sighed, addressing Ron first. "You know, it is probably about time you repay Hermione for her years of homework help. And Hermione, it'll do you good to finally learn a thing or two from Ron." Harry relished the moment of confusion, followed by the realization, culminating with the looks of horror in his two friends. He also took note of the pink rising on both of their cheeks, and added it the growing list of signs that his two friends thought of each other very differently than they let on.

"You're not suggesting I tutor Hermione?"

"Why not? You're an excellent flyer."

Hermione pleaded, "But Harry, couldn't you possibly teach me?"

Ron quickly masked the hurt that flashed across his face with indignation. "So you think I'm rubbish at flying?"

"Of course not, Ronald! You're an exceptional flyer. I just don't think you would have the...patience to teach me." She added, "I'm dreadful."

"Yeah, and so was Ginny before I taught her," Ron said, outright lying. Harry knew this, but kept mute.

"Well," Hermione began tentatively, "if you're really willing...I mean, if you have the time..."

"Tomorrow. Can't use the Quidditch pitch because Hufflepuff has it reserved for practice. Suppose we could practice around Hagrid's hut."

"Oh really, Ron?! You're sure? You don't mind giving up your Saturday?" Hermione looked at Ron with such endearment, Harry felt momentarily embarrassed to be there, as if he was suddenly intruding on a private conversation. Another sign to add to the list, he thought.

Ron could only hold her gaze for an instant, before sheepishly turning back to the chess board. He shrugged with forced indifference. "Yeah. I'm easy."

"Well then, I'm off to bed so I'll be fully rested for tomorrow's lessons. Thanks Harry," she leaned forward to give him a hug. "And Ron. Thanks you...er...thank you." Though Ron was turned away from her, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders and gave a quick squeeze. The blush on his cheeks, ever increasing since Hermione called him an "exceptional flyer," burned scarlet.

" 'Night" He said, an octave or two above his normal voice.

Several minutes passed in silence after Hermione had left for her dormitory. Ron appeared to be critically thinking about his next chess move, until he absentmindedly moved his Bishop right into the hands of Harry's knight.

"Don't you think, mate, that maybe you'd be the better teacher?" Ron said finally, revealing the real source of his deep thoughts.

"No. You've been flying far longer than me. Plus, I think this will be good for both of you."

"In what way?" Ron was now completely ignoring the chess board.

Harry simply shrugged, "I guess we'll see."

At breakfast the next morning, Hermione asked Ginny if she could borrow her broom. Ron was conspicuously absent.

"Ron's going to teach you?" Ginny scoffed, "Why didn't you just-" Harry nudged her beneath the table to keep her from finishing her sentence, which he was sure was going to end with "ask me?" It did strike him as strange that Hermione didn't immediately ask Ginny. He wondered, perhaps, if her mutterings and grumblings from the previous night were part of a plan to get Ron to volunteer. Harry smiled to himself. This list is getting quite long.

"Speaking of Ron, where is he? It isn't like him to miss breakfast." Hermione's tone was troubled.

"Oh he didn't miss breakfast. He was down much earlier. I heard him leave. Now it isn't like him to not sleep in on a Saturday, but he had some flying notes I suppose he wanted to finish up," Harry explained.

"Notes? Indeed? Well, that's pleasantly unusual!" Hermione beamed.

"Not really," said Ginny. "Ron may seem generally unmotivated, but he can be pretty diligent when it comes to things he likes."

"Or girls he likes," added Fred and George in unison. They were getting better and better at popping in unexpectedly. Hermione was sure they apparated there that instant, if it weren't for the fact that one couldn't apparate on Hogwarts' grounds. Hmmm...another reason to learn to fly.

Pretending not to hear the twins, Hermione stood and said, "I think I'll head back to the dormitories now. Ginny, you're sure you don't mind my borrowing your broom?"

"Not at all. Good luck!"

Mere seconds after her departure, Fred pulled Ginny, Harry, and George in for a huddle.

"So what's the plan?" he asked.

"What plan?" said Harry.

"That's what I'm asking! How to do we get front row tickets to this show?"

"What show?" demanded Ginny.

"The Ron-embarrasses-himself-for-our-amusement-in-front -of-the-love-of-his-life show, of course! It's too good to miss!"

George added, "It's got rave reviews."

Ginny and Harry exchanged knowing looks. There was no keeping Fred and George away, that was for certain. But they could probably keep their behavior in check if they played along. Harry raised his eyebrows to Ginny, who gave him a quick nod back.

"Okay, they will be practising down by Hagrid's. I reckon we can watch from the Forbidden Forest. Let's meet there in about 15 minutes," Harry said.

The twins nodded and displayed matching smirks.

"But we're just going to watch, and maybe have a laugh about it later," Harry said.

More firmly, Ginny added, "That means no meddling. None!"

"Aw, Ginny!" moaned George.

"None," she repeated, clapping her hands together in a manner reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley, which put the matter to end.

When Hermione arrived back at the Common Room, she saw Ron standing in the corner, shuffling through some papers, and casually pacing. He didn't notice her right away, giving her a moment to watch him. He raised his hand to the back of his head, absentmindedly scratching. His arms, she noticed, were long and lean; no longer a boy's arms. She had a sudden thought of what those arms would feel like around her, and, as if on cue, she felt a fluttering in her stomach. She shook the image from her mind and headed farther into the room.

"Harry's told me you put together some notes."

At the suddenness of her voice, Ron was startled and dropped several of the sheets of paper. Cursing himself silently, he tried to look nonchalant as he picked them up.

Hermione tried to hide her smile. "I'm just going to get Ginny's broom. Should I also bring a notebook?"

"No, just the broom will do. Flying is really more instinctive than anything. You can't study it."

Hermione frowned, heading up the staircase to the girls' rooms. "That's what I'm worried about."

Ginny arrived to the agreed upon meeting place to find Harry by himself.

"Any sign of Fred or George yet?" she asked.

"No, they disappeared pretty quickly after breakfast."

"They did, didn't they?" Ginny laughed. "Probably stocking up on some of their latest 'products' I bet."

"Well, we'll make sure they don't get put to any use," Harry said, feeling terribly unclever. They shifted uncomfortably, Harry pretending to be dutifully examining the sky while Ginny peered into the forest.

At the same moment, they both spoke:

"Seems like good flying weather-"

"Hope we won't have any forest visitors-"

They chuckled nervously. Gratefully, Harry spotted Ron and Hermione heading toward the hut. Ron was carrying both brooms, a stack of papers, and bright orange jumper. Harry motioned to Ginny, and they moved a few meters back into the forest. They each took a seat on a boulder.

"Did you hear that?" Ginny asked, looking over her shoulder.

"I didn't hear anything. No worries. I don't believe there will be any forest visitors this time of day," Harry teased. Ginny scooted a little closer to him, nonetheless.

"Let the show begin," she leaned over and whispered, her long hair brushing against Harry's arm and stealing his breath away.

"Okay," Ron began, as he placed the brooms down and surveyed his papers, "the test itself is pretty simple. You don't have to do any tricks and there isn't a speed test. In fact, you can probably go as slowly as you wish. Neville certainly did, and he passed his test. At least I think he did. Anyway, you'll be rated on three things."

Hermione nodded as Ron explained. She already knew what the flying test entailed. And she ordinarily would have pointed this out, probably snappily. But, for some reason, it was quite nice to hear Ron speak confidently and expertly.

"First, is broom stability. Excessively wobbling or jerky movements count against you. Second, is steering. You must be able to maneuver left, right, up, and down with relative ease. Finally, you must be able to successfully take off and land." At this, Ron held up the jumper. Hermione had wondered why he brought it. She watched as he surveyed the field before finding a suitable place to put it down.

"This will be the marker for your take off and landing," he explained.

"Your jumper?"

"Well, yeah. I just though, you know, the bright color would help you to see it." Ron scratched the back of his head again, and Hermione's mind involuntarily filled once more with the image of his arms around her.

"Brilliant," she said softly.

Ron shrugged. They stood awkwardly for a moment. Then Ron continued, "So I was thinking that we could start with you showing me what you already know how to do." He laid Ginny's broom by her feet and looked at her expectantly.

"Ron, I don't really know how to do any of it," Hermione said.

"I don't believe you. I think you don't know how to do any of it well and because you've never had to look stupid in your life, you'd rather avoid even the chance of that happening."

Hermione was taken aback. She realized that not only was he absolutely right, but that he knew something about her before she even consciously realized it.

Has he learned a mind reading spell?

"So," Ron said, crossing his arms and grinning slightly, "Let's see what you can do. And don't worry about looking foolish. It's just me watching."

Hermione took a deep breath, and summoned the broom to her hand. This was always the easy part. Though Ron assured her that she needn't worry about looking foolish, somehow having only him as an audience made her nerves worse. Suddenly, with an intensity that startled her, she wanted to impress him.

She mounted the broom and kicked off hard, the way (she thought) Madam Hooch had taught her several years ago. Unexpectedly, she shot up 15 feet.

"Whoa, careful!" Ron called. He danced beneath her, arms outstretched.

In a panic, she attempted to land but leaned too far forward. Instinctively, she let go of the broom to hold her arms out to break her fall. Ron swooped under her to catch her.

"Ooof!"

She slammed into his arms, and he fell back into the grass. Ginny's broom spun above them for a few seconds, before teetering down beside them.

From the forest, both Harry and Ginny gasped.

"Oh my," Ginny said, "she certainly wasn't exaggerating her lack of skills."

Hermione, sprawled out on top of a prostrate Ron, buried her face in her hands and her head in his chest. Despite their awkward position, she was too embarrassed to move. Muttering through her hands, she intoned, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm rubbish, I'm sorry..."

"Hermione," Ron groaned, the wind knocked out of him from the fall. He lifted his arms from his sides, but wasn't immediately sure what to do when them. He awkwardly patted her back. "Hermione?"

"It's hopeless, I'm hopeless..."

"Hermione..." his voice was soft. He touched her again, this time placing his hand on her back and gently grazing it. At his touch, she felt pulled back to reality. She clumsily rolled off him, and sat up with her back to him, hugging her knees. Maybe, if I don't look at him, she thought, he'll disappear or I'll disappear and this will all never have happened.

Both were quiet for several minutes before Ron stood up.

"All right, then? Let's try another strategy," Ron kept his voice admirably steady.

Between the shock of seeing Hermione tumble off her broom and the ache in his lower back from the fall, coupled with-most disarmingly-the several seconds of having her pressed against his body, he was surprised he had a voice at all. He tried to shake the memory of one of his recent dreams that involved him, a field, and Hermione laying in a similar position but for quite a different reason.

"Very funny, Ron. Another strategy? Yes, next time I'll try harder to break my arm and your head open!"

"Your problem is you're trying too hard. This isn't a spell or a potion or a problem that needs solving. The more you think about it, the worse you'll do. Trust me. I'm best at quidditch when I'm not over-thinking it. Which, of course, is why I'm usually useless."

"You aren't useless, Ron."

"Then prove me wrong. Imagine, 'Ron Weasley successfully teaches brightest-witch-of-her-age Hermione Granger to fly.' That's a Daily Prophet headline right there, that is. Sub headline: Granger goes on to play Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies." Ron punctuated the words in the air with his hands as he spoke.

Hermione couldn't stop smiling, even if she wanted to. She climbed to her feet, brushing the grass and dirt from her legs.

"So what's your idea for a new strategy?"

"When you felt unsteady, you let go of your broom."

"And?"

"You have to fight that urge. Never let go of your broom, no matter how unstable it feels. You may spin around madly, but you'll never fall to the ground so long as you are on your broom."

"How am I supposed to fight that urge. I didn't plan on letting go. It just happened!"

Ron retrieved his broom from the ground and moved toward Hermione. "So that's my next idea. You need to know what it's supposed to feel like, so you can trust that you're safe. It needs to become second nature. You need to get comfortable with the broom between your...um...legs..." Ron cursed the warm blush he could feel rising on his cheeks.

Ginny leaned in to Harry, "What do you suppose he just said? They're both blushing like mad!"

"Dunno. Hey, do you suppose Fred and George are ever going to come?"

"Why? What does it matter?"

Harry looked into the set of warm brown eyes beside him, and decided it certainly was much preferable not having the twins present.

"So anyway," Ron quickly continued, "my plan is for you to fly with me. Me on back. I'll be on back. You in the front. Steering. Same broom. If...uh...if that's okay."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know, Ron. What if I shoot us both 100 feet high before we topple down and break our necks?"

"That won't happen," he assured. "As long as we don't let go of the broom. And I'll be there this time to make sure you don't let go."

Hermione pouted.

"I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Hermione remained thoughtful for a moment. If she was being honest, what she was most worried about was something happening to him. But then her eyes followed the curves of his arms and she imagined them, one securely around her and the other tightly gripping the broom stick. The thought gave her a pleasant shiver. There had been so few opportunities for she and Ron to touch. A few hugs here and there over the years, a good natured pat on the back. She longed to feel him pressed against her back, hear his voice in her ear...

Snap out of it! She mentally scolded herself. "Okay. Let's try."

Ron allowed Hermione to mount his broom first before climbing on behind her.

"Ah, I see problem number one. Your grip." Ron placed his hands over hers and urged them down a few inches. "Next, your posture."

"I've got perfect posture!" she stated, enjoying the tingling she felt in her hands following his touch.

"You have terrible broom posture," he affirmed. Ron placed his hands on her shoulders and nudged them down. "You should be almost crouching," he explained.

Ron slipped one arm around her waist and held the broom stick beneath where her hands gripped it. "Okay, you're ready," he said softly in her ear, "Kick off."

Hermione let out a deep breath, and then pressed her foot into the soft field and pushed off. They rose fairly quickly, but Ron simply propelled the broom stick down slowly to level it out, and she gained control. They moved forward at a moderate pace.

"You've got it!" he cheered, "You're doing it. Now let's practise steering. Steer with your body, not just your hands. It should feel natural, like your just simply turning left or right."

Hermione followed his instruction. His grip on the broom stick kept her from steering too jerkily. His grip on her kept her from feeling too afraid-though it also made her heart pound so hard she silently thanked the whipping winds for overpowering the sound. She steered to the left and circled over Hagrid's hut, then steered right.

"Well done!" cried Ron.

"You know," Hermione said, feeling lighter than ever before, "I think this is the longest we've gone without fighting!"

"The day's not over yet, Granger," he replied, laughing.

After a few figure eights, Ron said, "Okay, now try going up. It's easier than down. Plus I want to show you my favourite spot."

Hermione slowly pulled the broom stick up and immediately they rose with it. Ron directed her south. Once over the Black Lake, Hermione understood why it was Ron's favourite view. It was breathtaking. She scanned the horizon, taking in the beautiful and awe-inspired vista. She looked straight down and marveled at their reflection in the water. But then suddenly, she felt dizzy and her stomach flipped.

Without warning, Ron's hand was on her chin, coaxing her view upward. "Don't look down," he said. "That's why going down is harder than up. It sometimes still makes me dizzy."

How did he know what she feeling at that moment?

Hermione, to her surprise, found her mind wandering even as they glided over the lake. She wondered just when it was that this red haired boy switched from being an annoying git, albeit her friend, to this...something else. She knew if it were Harry's arm around her now, there wouldn't be the thumping of her heart in her chest and the fluttering in her stomach, and the tingling...everywhere else. She'd done a good job thus far of ignoring and denying these feelings-even to herself. She wondered, desperately, if she had actually been terrible at hiding it all this time. Most frightening of all, she wondered if she was totally alone in these feelings.

Meanwhile, Ron fought to stay clear headed. Hermione's soft curls were rhythmically caressing his face, and filling his nose with a subtle sweet scent. He had known since the Yule Ball...and maybe even earlier that things were different with her. It was most assuredly one sided, and Ron decided he could live with just having her as a friend, but it was difficult. His mind wandered to Krum and McLaggen and his grip around Hermione involuntarily tightened.

"What's wrong? Are you slipping?" she cried in response. They were heading back toward Hagrid's hut.

"Oh no. Sorry...just..." he trailed off, unable to come up with a suitable response. In a panic, he continued, "You know, I was just thinking how odd it is for someone who dated a famous quidditch player-dumb as a rock though he was-to not now how to fly."

Why do I do this to myself?

From their vantage point, Harry and Ginny lost track of Ron and Hermione once they flew south from Hagrid's hut. They waited around for a few minutes until Ginny suggested they go look at Ron's flying "notes." The pages has scattered a bit from the breeze, so they each picked up a random page to examine.

"This one just has notes on the three scoring categories for the flying test," Harry called over to Ginny. "This other sheet is just scribblings of broomsticks."

"Yeah," Ginny responded, "Ron's always been a doodler. Here's a page where he's ranked the best brooms on the market according to speed, agility, and design. Ha!"

Harry picked up a crinkled sheet. It contained a few random phrases, such as "good broomstick servicing kit-important" and "remember to keep your mouth closed-bugs." What caught Harry's attention, though, was the sketch beneath that. It was of a girl, flying on a broom. Her bushy hair was flowing in an imaginary breeze. She had a determined look in her eyes. It was, undoubtedly, Hermione. However, it looked like her AND it didn't look like her at the same time. There were enough tell-tale clues for Harry to recognize his friend, but the drawing presented her in a different light. Harry wondered if, perhaps, he was seeing Hermione through the eyes of Ron.

Ginny peered over Harry's shoulder. "Blimey. He's got it bad for her doesn't he?"

"They're coming back!" Harry noted. He dropped the sheet and hurried back to the forest, trailing Ginny the whole way.

Hermione circled over Hagrid's hut. She hadn't responded to Ron's comment about Victor and hadn't, in fact, said anything for the last several minutes.

Ron knew it was a stupid thing to say, but he said loads of stupid things before and Hermione usually just put him in his place. The lack of any response was much more disconcerting.

"Ron," she said finally.

"Er...yes?"

"Why do you bring up Victor so often?"

"I don't."

"You do," she insisted. "Much more than I do, and I'm the one that allegedly dated him."

"Allegedly?"

"Yes, allegedly. According to you, we had some whirlwind romance, but in reality we exchanged fewer than 10 letters and about 2 snogs."

"Ready to try landing?" he asked, eager to change the subject.

"Why does it bother you so much?" she said, standing her ground.

"It doesn't, honestly. I just...I'm just taking the piss out of you. That's all." Ron was glad she couldn't see is his face. "So...landing? You ready?"

"Yes."

"Okay," said Ron, grateful to be back on a safe topic. "The key is to not look straight down. Find the point ahead of you where you want to land, and focus in on that. See my jumper? Focus on it and almost point the broom at it. Remember, I won't let you fall."

Hermione oriented the broom toward the jumper. As they descended, she felt the broom shudder.

"Steady," Ron coaxed, giving her a quick squeeze, "You can do this."

And then she did, like it was the simplest thing. As Hermione's feet touched the ground, her ungraceful fall only 20 minutes earlier was but a distant memory. Exhilarated, she let the broom drop, spun around, and pulled Ron into a tight embrace.

"Hey!" He cried out happily, "We aren't done yet."

"We're not?" She pulled back, confused.

"No, of course not. You have to do it solo now."

"Oh, yes. I suppose I do."

When Harry and Ginny returned to the forest, it was Ginny who noticed them first.

"Fred! George!"

Behind the boulder Harry saw a flash of red.

"Come out, you two! We know you're there!" Ginny demanded.

Fred emerged first, followed by George. Both wore sheepish grins.

"How long have you been there?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. He quickly tried to recount how many times he stole looks in Ginny's direction when she wasn't looking. Did they see?

Fred held a Headless Hat in his hand, thus explaining how they weren't detected.

"I knew I heard something!" Ginny was fuming. She looked behind the boulder to see a pile of the twin's products. She picked up a Fanged Flyer and scowled at Fred. "What were you planning? To take her head off?"

"No, of course not," said George.

"We just thought we'd help Hermione be extra prepared for her test," explained Fred.

"Right. You never know what obstacles they may have added to the test," added George.

Hermione followed Ron to Ginny's broom. He held his own broom in his hand, keeping it at the ready in case he needed to swoop in at any point in her solo flight. He gave her a nod, and she summoned her broom. She gripped the broomstick where he had instructed, and curled her back. She counted to three, and kicked off. Ron watched as she slowly, but assuredly rose from the ground. She flew up several more feet and did three figure eights. He cheered her from the ground, then cautioned her to not look down at him.

"Okay, try the landing now!" he called up to her.

She circled down, focusing on the bright orange jumper and landed with only the slightest stumble.

Ron felt a swell of pride, but it was followed with disappointment. She was, unsurprisingly, a quick learner. He had secretly hoped she might require a few more lessons...perhaps another tandem ride.

"So, Professor Weasley, how was that?" she asked, beaming.

"Well, Ms. Granger...50 points...no, 100 point for Gryffindor! Well done."

"So does that mean we're done?" Ron wondered if that was disappointment he heard in her voice. Couldn't be...

"I think so." They smiled and stood awkwardly for a few moments. Then Ron started to gather their stuff.

Hermione turned and picked up the jumper. She held it to herself. It smelled just like Ron. For an insane moment, she wondered if she could steal it. She imagined curling up with it in her bed. Forget Luna...they'll be calling me Looney Granger, she thought. Though it loses something without the alliteration.

A page of Ron's notes blew against her leg. She lifted it up and noticed...

Me? Me! This is a drawing...of me...

"Oi!" cried Harry, ushering the three Weasley siblings behind the boulder. "She's found the drawing," he whispered to Ginny.

"What drawing would that be?" asked Fred.

"None. Of. Your. Business." Ginny stated through her teeth.

Ron finished collecting the papers and brooms. Hermione's back was to him. He started toward her. She was examining something...

Bollocks! Please let it not be...

As if she heard his thoughts, Hermione turned toward Ron. Her lips were parted as if she was about to speak, and her brow was furrowed.

"I didn't know you could draw," she said simply.

"Er...I can't really. Not well. I just scribble in the margins sometimes." He wondered if it were possible to casually snatch something out from another's hand.

Hermione examined the drawing more closely, "Oh I've seen your scribbles. You do more of those than take actual notes, I'm afraid. But this is...well, this is quite good. It's...me. Right?"

Ron shifted his weight to his left leg and scratched the back of his head. "Uh...is it?" he asked, taking the paper from her. "Yeah, I suppose, it does rather look like you. So, uh, I guess we should head back, eh? Probably lunch time."

"Ron..." Hermione said his name so softly, he was almost sure he imagined it. She studied him for a moment and then continued, "You put a good deal of thought and effort into these flying lessons. Notes, strategies, your own jumper on the soggy grass."

Ron shrugged, unsure where she was going with this. "It wasn't hard-"

She continued, "You were incredibly patient with me."

"Well, you weren't as dreadful as you thought-"

Unfazed, she forged on. "You find every occasion to insult Victor Krum..."

"Wait, what? What are you talking about, Hermione?" Ron felt suddenly uncomfortable. She was looking at him intensely. She had the same expression on her face as when she was contemplating a complex number chart for Arithmancy. He felt very much like he was a riddle she was solving, and there were some conclusions he didn't want her to figure out.

"And now this?" She took the picture back from him.

"Ron, do you fancy me?"

"What?! Where is this...I don't know what you're on...what are you talking about?" Ron stuttered and felt his face burn. "I guess a bloke can't just help a girl pass a flying test. There must be something more to it? It wasn't even MY idea!" In his awkward gesticulating, he dropped both brooms.

Hermione retrieved Ginny's broom. "Nevermind," she muttered, and headed back for the castle.

You absolute wanker! He thought, berating himself.

"Hermione, wait!" He cried. He attempted to catch up. Upon seeing this, she mounted Ginny's broom and kicked off perfectly.

"Hey, nicely done!" He said, unable to stop himself. "Wait!" He quickly mounted his own broom and pursed her.

Despite her new abilities, Hermione couldn't outpace Ron, who quickly pulled in front of her.

"What?" She asked, trying for peeved but sounding more heartsick.

"Hermione!"

"Well, what?"

"That was stupid of me. I'm sorry. I...er...you...you just caught me off guard. That's all. By the way, nice handling!" He motioned to her steadiness. "We didn't even really practise hovering. Well done."

She smiled, despite herself. "Well, you're right. The less you think about it, the easier it is. Anyway, I'm sorry, too. That was a really bold and clearly unfounded question to ask. I've embarrassed myself quite enough for today, I think." She began to fly forward but Ron interjected.

"Wait. Don't go yet. I didn't even really answer your question, did I?" Ron wondered how a hummingbird got into his chest. His hands felt slippery on his broom stick-the result, no doubt, of sweaty palms.

"Yes. Is my answer. But don't worry. I've gotten to be pretty good at suppressing it. So...no worries."

Hermione studied him again for another moment. He couldn't look at her, the ache was too much.

"Ron, there's one more flying strategy I'd like to try."

"Hm?" He was confused, but mildly grateful that she chose to change the subject.

But then she was moving toward him, ineptly trying to fly up beside him. Instinctively, he grabbed her broom stick, to keep it from colliding with his own and also to pull her toward him. She leaned first (and in the stories they later told of it, she made sure it was well known that she leaned first), and he-utterly startled-met her lips with his own.

"Whoa!" said Ginny. "A flying snog! Even I've never done that!"

All three sets of eyes were on her. She rolled her own eyes.

"Hmm, 'Flying Snog' sounds like a pretty good name for a product," said Fred, scratching his chin.

He and George began to gather their supplies and discuss their new potential merchandise.

"A broom stick that has lips! You can practise kissing with it!" said George.

"Yeah! And we'll add in a talking feature. It can tell you if you're rubbish or not!"

Ginny lean toward Harry, eyebrows raised and whispered, "Looks rather fun, doesn't it? Don't particularly enjoy watching my brother do it, though." She winked and nudged him with her shoulder.

Harry swallowed hard and wondered if Hermione would be done with that broom some time soon. He wanted to ask its owner if she fancied a flight.

Epilogue

By the time Hermione and Ron returned to the castle, she had flown so much she had no doubt she'd pass her test. They toured nearly every inch of Hogwarts' grounds. As Ron promised, the less she thought about it, the easier flying became. And for the past few hours, her thoughts were busy being tied up in Ron's arms, and the stubble on his chin, and the aching she felt as soon as his lips left hers. She barely had room to worry about flying technique.

As they approached the Fat lady, hands intertwined, Hermione suddenly stopped.

"On no!"

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, tentatively. Was she going to suddenly realize the boy she spent the afternoon kissing was, in fact, the loser git Ron Weasley?

"How am I going to land during my test without your jumper? I don't think I can do it without it as a target!"

Ron exhaled, relieved. "Sure you can. You just use something else as a visual cue. A brown patch in the grass, a dandelion, whatever. Or," he said cleverly, leaning against the wall and pulling her toward him, "A mop of red hair."

She sank her fingers into his hair, thrilled at the ability to touch him at a whim. "You'll be there?" she asked.

"Absolutely! Need to be there to take credit for it, you know. Ow!" Hermione yanked his hair and pulled his face toward hers, silencing him with a kiss.