Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's all J.K. Rowling's.
Flying Lessons
"Hermione, we're not leaving this bloody field until you can fly this broom." Ron warned me sternly.
"It's going to rain," I protested feebly, looking over the bleachers at the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.
"Then you had better learn fast." If I hadn't known him so many years, I would have been almost frightened of Ron at that moment. But, the reality being that I had known him since I was eleven, I was able to detect the faint glimmer in his crystal blue eyes, which informed me that he was mostly kidding.
"Now, get on the broom." Ron commanded.
"Don't tell me what to do, Ronald." I sighed, straddling the broom as I spoke.
"I'm not telling you what to do. I'm giving you instructions. And if you don't follow the instructions, you fall off of a cleaning tool from hundreds of feet in the air." he warned me, his voice growing louder with each word. My eyes widened as I realized how utterly real the danger of flying was. I dismounted the broom, backing away and preparing to run.
"I…I think I'm ill. I better go…get some rest." I called to Ron as I walked away quickly.
"No, Hermione, no way am I falling for that. You'll do fine." Ron promised softly, catching my wrist when I didn't stop walking.
"No, really I-" cough "-I really don't feel well, Ron. So sorry." I lied, faking a few more coughs for good measure. No matter how much I struggled against his hold, I couldn't free myself from his grip on my wrist. "Let go, Ron," I demanded after awhile, abandoning my 'sick' theme.
"'Mione, please?" Ron pleaded, staring me straight in the eye. "You won't get hurt, honest." When I tried to cast my gaze down, he hunched over, not letting my gaze escape his. I sighed, unable to argue with eyes like his. He gently guided me back over to the broom, gripping my elbows from behind me and pushing me along.
We reached the broom and I turned around, wide-eyed. "No, Ron, please, I can't. Ron, I don't like heights! Stop, no, Ron, seriously!" I protested as he lifted me onto the broom with ease. Through the intense fear, I managed to be impressed at how strong he had to be to lift me into the air so easily.
"Okay, Hermione, you're gonna learn to fly and your gonna enjoy it." he commanded, waving a threatening finger at me. "I'll be right here, and you won't go too high. You'll be fine, trust me." His eyes were unbearably persuasive, and I nodded without even realizing what I was agreeing to.
"But I'm not going over ten feet in the air." I resolved.
"Fine. Now put your hands out in front of you." I obeyed, gripping to splintered wood in front of me for dear life. "No, no. Not there. Right here." he corrected patiently, rearranging my hands to their appropriate locations. Personally, I couldn't see what difference it would make if my hands were inches from where they should have been, but I wasn't about to chance it.
"Push off the ground - gently," he stressed, his hands hovering just behind my back, ready to catch me at any given moment. I kicked off, holding the broom so tightly my knuckles turned white, my face twisted in concentration. "Relax, Hermione, you're fine," Ron soothed.
Fifteen feet in the air, I looked down. Bad idea. "Too high! Too high!" I squealed, jumping off the broom swiftly and landing flat on my back with a huff. "Ow'" I groaned, sitting up and trying to catch my breath.
"Hermione!" Ron called, approaching me with a look of terror plastered across his face. "'Mione, are you okay? You were doing great, really, you just shouldn't have jumped."
"No kidding," I muttered sarcastically, standing up ad brushing the dirt off my back. "I'm not cut out for this."
He grinned down at me, offering his hand to help me up. "I'll help more this time. Okay?" I nodded, knowing that he wouldn't let me give up already.
I remounted the broom, waiting for further instruction. Ron got on the broom behind me, much to my surprise. He pushed off the ground wordlessly as I tried to remember where my hands belonged. Heights were one thing. But flying while Ron was so unbearable close? Suicide. I took deep, calming breaths, trying to ignore the fact that I could smell him, feel him against my back.
"Now, push the broom to the left, just a little." He instructed, his hands hovering just above mine. I did as I was told, nudging the tip of the broom slightly to the left.
The broom swerved sharply to the left, and I panicked, grabbing on to Ron's forearms for dear life. I was hurting him, no doubt, my nails were digging in deep, but I didn't notice at the moment, and he barely seemed to mind.
"You're fine, Hermione, that was supposed to happen. Relax, you're doing great." Ron praised. I switched my death grip back to the broom, and Ron's hands covered mine immediately. "Now, try turning to the right a bit."
I pushed the broom to the right, feeling more secure with Ron's arms tightly around me, his fingers entwined with mine. We swerved to the right, and I smiled proudly, trying not to enjoy myself. I refused to prove Ron right.
"Good!" Ron praised, and I could almost hear the wide grin on his face. "Now we land. Lean forward."
I pushed down on the broom, tilting it. The angle of the broom made it difficult to stay on, and pushed Ron closer to me. A blush rose on my cheeks as I felt the muscles in his chest press firmly against my back. I cast my gaze downward, only just seeing the marks my nails had left in his arms.
"Ron! Oh, gosh, Ron, look what I did to you!" I cried, upset, stroking his arms where I had left holes. His arms tightened at my touch, making the broom tilt further downward. We shot down at a terrifying speed, barely managing to slow down just before hitting the ground and toppling off the broom. Ron landed on top of me, straddling my waist. The moment we fell, the first raindrop landed right on his ginger-covered head. A roll of thunder shook the trees as the rain continued to pound on us.
Randomly, Ron let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back but not bothering to get off of me. I couldn't help but join in.
"This doesn't mean you win," I reminded him once I had caught my breath.
"Win what?" he asked, confused.
"You said I was going to enjoy this flying lesson."
"And you're not having fun, right now?" he asked me skeptically.
"Nope." I replied stubbornly, giving him my best grumpy face.
"Well, we'll just have to fix that then, won't we?" he murmured softly, the humor slowly draining from his tone.
I stared up at him, sensing an abrupt change in the atmosphere. His blue pools were full of intensity, and another emotion I couldn't quite place. He leaned in slowly, holding my gaze. His lips covered mine tentatively, softly. My arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to me. The kiss was gentle at first, progressing into something more passionate. His tongue stroked my bottom lip softly, begging for entry that I gladly supplied. I grinned into his mouth as he flattened himself on top of me, the additional weight feeling so right.
Ron pulled away suddenly, abruptly, and it took all of my willpower to keep from whimpering at the sudden loss. He smirked down at me mischievously, making me shiver with pleasure.
"Having fun now?" he challenged cockily, his lips barely brushing mine as he spoke. It was torture, and he was fully aware of it.
"Shut up and kiss me, you git." I ordered as I pulled him back down to me.
I hardly noticed the fact that we were completely soaked, and the rain showed no sign of stopping.
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