A/N: Thank you to everyone that has been reading, following, favoriting, and offering feedback on this fic! I really appreciate it! This chapter took much longer to write than I anticipated; I let myself over-think it too much, and forgot to just have fun with it, for a while. Watching clips from the film helped, though, and I realized I didn't really need to put in a lot of elaborate detail about the flying itself, so much as how the characters were playing off of each other in the process.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the update, and thanks again to everyone for their patience! Pregnancy takes a lot out of me, these days.

First Year: Quite The Team

The week following his brief stay in the hospital wing was a quiet one for Killian Jones. He barely saw Emma, save for the classes they shared, and her manner was rather sharp when he tried to speak with her after one of their classes. Feeling disappointed as she stalked off, Killian supposed she was still under a lot of stress, given all of the unpleasant punishments that had been doled out to Regina and her after the Whomping Willow incident, and backed off accordingly. Since Regina had been primarily responsible, Killian thought it rather unfair, not to mention unwise, to force the girls into each other's presence for a series of detentions, but he wasn't about to question Headmaster Ghorm's decision. Especially since he had gotten off with little more than a scolding, himself, for his own involvement.

Still, she wasn't ignoring him anymore. That was something.

"Cheer up," Mary-Margaret told him as they meandered through the halls, "we have our first flying lesson tomorrow. I hear Professor Hatter is very interesting."

"Yeah?" Killian said. "I hear he's mental."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mary-Margaret huffed. "They wouldn't let a crazy person teach flying lessons."

But Killian wasn't so certain. Hogwarts' standards seemed to be rather...flexible at times. He could think of a number of professors, both past and present, that he would hardly deem entirely stable. Still, Mary-Margaret's news cheered him. Killian had been looking forward to his official flying lesson ever since Liam had written home about it during his first year at Hogwarts. Toy brooms were all well and good when you were small, but they hovered too close to the ground to simulate what it was like to fly on a proper broom. And the short, infrequent flights he'd had on the hand-me-down broom that Liam had been given by a second cousin hardly counted. Killian hadn't minded much, though. The extra practice had been worth seeing Liam play on the House Quidditch team this year.

"We'll see," Killian said as they approached their next class, "whose theory hold up tomorrow."

The next morning dawned fair, but chilly, and Killian was too excited to offer much resistance when Liam insisted he wear some of the winter items their mother had packed for school. He supposed he would have to wear them sooner or later anyway. Hogwarts tended to be quite drafty during the colder months.

That, and the sooner he dressed, the sooner he could get to his flying lesson.

"Slow down," Mary-Margaret scolded, watching with wide eyes as Killian wolfed down his toast at breakfast. "If you choke, you'll never make it to our flying lesson."

"She has a point," Kristoff nodded. "Besides, flying is overrated anyway."

"Says someone who would travel everywhere by reindeer if he could," Killian smirked.

"Hey, reindeer are better than people," he said defensively. "Well, most people," he amended, realizing, it seemed, that neither Mary-Margaret nor Killian were impressed with that argument. "Anyway, they tend to have better sense than to fly."

"And how would you know what reindeer really think?" Alice laughed, from where she at perched next to Kristoff.

"Haven't you heard? Kristoff here was raised by reindeer," Cyrus teased, pausing in his conversation with Liam. "Or was it trolls?" the fourth year mused.

"Ha ha," Kristoff began.

"Um, as interesting as this conversation is," Mary-Margaret spoke up, "Killian and I have a flying lesson to attend."

"Have fun," Alice smiled as they stood up.

"And try not to get killed," Kristoff called after them. "Ow!" He glared at Alice. "What? I'm just saying! Not everyone takes to it."

Killian, overhearing this last remark as they left the Great Hall, fervently hoped that wasn't the case for him. He had been looking forward to this for too long; the idea that he might discover he had no talent for flying appalled him. He didn't want to be one of the poor souls who was forced to take remedial lessons.

When they arrived for their lesson, Killian nearly groaned. A small cluster of Gryffindors had gathered together , whispering with nervous excitement while Professor Hatter moved from broom to broom, inspecting each in turn. Emma stood on the fringe of the group, her expression uncharacteristically wooden, and Killian felt a flash of sympathy for her. He couldn't imagine how nervous she must feel, having no prior exposure to the wizarding world, and all the magic he took for granted, like flying. The thought that she might see him fly poorly seemed rather small in comparison.

Sensing his gaze, Emma looked up. Their eyes met. Killian smiled at her tentatively in response. Emma blinked, as if she hadn't quite realized he was even there. "Good morning, Swan," he offered after an awkward moment. She muttered something unintelligible, and Killian grinned as Professor Hatter finished inspecting the brooms and stood up.

"Good morning," the eccentrically dressed Professor intoned, sweeping a mop of shaggy hair out of his face; he smiled, an expression that charmed many of the girls.

Killian shifted uneasily as some of the other boys rolled their eyes and made small noises of exasperation. Perhaps he'd let rumor and imagination get the better of him, but there was something...off...about that smile.

"I am Professor J. Hatter, you instructor for this course," he continued. "Some of you may be nervous today, or worried that those who grew up in the wizarding world may have an advantage over those of you that didn't. Don't be. Today you are all starting at the same place. So: there will be no showing off, and no horsing around. Understood?" His gaze swept over the students. "Please find a broom, and let's begin."

After some shuffling around with his House mates, Killian found himself standing between Mary-Margaret and Tiana, awaiting instructions. Glancing over at mirroring line of Gryffindors, he spotted Emma standing about three brooms to his left, between David and Anna. Robin, Killian noted with irrational pleasure, was several broom spaces to Emma's right. He hadn't quite managed to forget (or forgive) the fact that Robin had been able to make Swan laugh and genuinely enjoy his company.

She had never enjoyed Killian's company that way...

Professor Hatter's voice drew Killian out of his wistful thoughts, "Everyone step up to the left side of your broom, and hold your right hand over it; that's it. Now say the word 'up'!"

An uneven chorus of commands punctuated the air. Killian gazed down at his broomstick. "Up," he said in a firm, measured voice. The broom twitched once and then flew up to smack him in the forehead. "Ouch!"

A feminine snort of amusement pricked his awareness. He glanced up and found Emma smirking at him, a broom clutched in her right hand. Killian felt his face heat up, but a quick glance at his fellow students told him that Emma and he were the only two who had managed to make their brooms obey so quickly. Killian couldn't help but feel a bit pleased about that, regardless of the somewhat graceless way in which he had done it. His pleasure was short-lived, however, as boredom soon set in while he watched Professor Hatter move up and down the lines of students correcting everything from their posture to their tone of voice.

Killian peered over at Emma from time to time, but her expression was so distant and distracted that he wasn't certain he could have captured her attention even if he could have thought of anything interesting to say.

The lesson proceeded at a steadier pace once Professor Hatter got everyone properly mounted on their brooms and into the air, and for a little while, Killian was simply too preoccupied with adjusting to the jerky, and often contrary movements of his school broom that he didn't have time to be bored.

A familiar sneeze, followed by a panicked shout wrenched him away from his own concerns; his eyes tracked the blur of erratic movement as it hurtled past him, and before Killian knew it, he was chasing after it on his broom. "Sneezy!" he shouted at the awkward figure as it spiraled higher into the sky. "Come back, mate!"

Leaning forward, Killian coaxed more speed out of his broom, ignoring the vibration of protest that it elicited in response. He sailed through the air, drawing closer to his House mate. He didn't know the allergy-prone boy very well, but he vaguely recalled that his name was Tom. "Sneezy!" he called again, pulling up beside him, "Tom!"

His House mate glanced over at him, his expression panicked. "I didn't mean to!" he burst out. "I was trying to steer it," he babbled, "just like Professor Hatter said, but then I sneezed and-"

"Of course you didn't mean to," Killian agreed. "These old brooms are rather tricky. You've got to calm down, though, mate."

A familiar figure pulled up on Sneezy's other side, her blonde hair rippling behind her like a silken banner. Killian stared at it, mesmerized for a moment. "He's right!" Emma shouted, sharply reminding Killian of the task at hand. "You have to calm down and steer with steady hands-just like a car!"

"A what?" Killian hollered, confused.

"So not the time, Jones!" she snapped back.

Whatever she meant, Sneezy seemed to understand the analogy well enough. "What if I can't?" he protested. "What if I crash?"

"If you don't relax and assert control over your broom, you will crash," Killian pointed out. "Right into the Astronomy tower!" He jerked his head toward the school, which loomed closer with each minute. "Do you really fancy a stay in the Hospital Wing?"

When Killian was questioned about it later, he couldn't quite recall the particulars of what either of them said that calmed Sneezy enough to narrowly avoid the crash and turn his broom around, but the seamless, unspoken teamwork pleased him when he recalled it afterward-so much that he couldn't help but point it out to Emma after they landed. "I don't mean to upset you, Emma," he smiled as the other students surrounded Sneezy, "but I think we make quite the team."

The exasperated look he received in reply made him grin.

"Indeed," Professor Hatter said, sweeping up to them with an odd expression that looked equal parts amused and disapproving, "I look forward to seeing you both compete in Quidditch one of these years. In the meantime, " he said, "I'd like to strongly encourage both of you to put in a little extra practice with brooms."

"Remedial lessons?" Killian choked. "But-"

"Shush," Emma hissed. "He isn't talking about flying, you idiot. We've got detention tonight."

"Right you are! Given how well you work together, though, I imagine you'll have the dungeons swept in no time," their professor agreed with an amiable smile.

"Bloody hell," Killian muttered.

"Next time, Miss Swan and Mr. Jones, leave the heroic stunts to those with more experience." He leaned forward, drawing them closer. "Really, though, spectacular flying," he muttered in a low tone. "Haven't seen the like from a student in years, and now there's two of you! Come see me when this business with the Whomping Willow blows over, will you?"

He retreated abruptly, without explanation, and sauntered off toward the rest of the class, leaving Killian and Emma to stare at each other in consternation.

"What the hell was that about?"

"No idea," Killian shrugged. "I'm as confused as you are. But I do know one thing."

"What's that?"

"Mary-Margaret's wrong. That man's as mad as a hatter."

Emma's mouth twitched. She rolled her eyes. "Clever," she said sarcastically. "See you in detention, Jones," she told him by way of dismissal, hefting her broom in one hand as she turned to leave.

"See you in detention, Swan."