Disclaimer: All I own are the memories.
A/N: Hullo again, all. Yes, I'm back! This is the first of a collection of memories from my own life that I have transposed to fit the Harry Potter world. They will all be from Hermione's perspective, and not very long. Have fun reading, and feel free as always to leave even the shortest of reviews!
"All right, this time let's go together."
I blink. I glance at him sideways. "You're kidding me, right?"
"No, come on!" he laughs.
"There's no way we'll both fit on that thing."
"Sure there is!"
"Have you ever done it before?"
"What, two people at once? No, not exactly…but it's fine, look I'll sit right behind the bindings, and you sit between them."
"But…" Now I'm just protesting because I don't want to seem like I want to do this. My stomach has erupted in butterflies. There is nothing I want more to do right now than what he is suggesting, in fact. This is purely for appearance's sake.
"Oh, come on," he teases. "You scared?"
"No," I reply, sticking out my tongue at him.
"Then?"
I look at the tiny toboggan. I sigh, long and heavily. He grins and positions it at the top of the hill. "Do you want to sit down first, or me?" he asks, and I gesture for him to. He does, just behind the bindings, and pats the space in front of him. His heels are dug into the snow on either side so that we won't go flying down the instant I sit. I hesitate for a second, then come over and plunk myself down between the bindings.
"Lean back," he tells me. I am only too happy to do so, blushing as I press up against his chest and thank the stars that he's behind me and can't see my face. I haven't blushed in years. He pushes us backwards a little, and lifts his feet off the ground, swinging them in front of me into my lap as always happens when there is more than one person on a toboggan. "You ready?"
I laugh and nod.
"Okay, here we go!"
He pushes us forward with his hands, then immediately wraps his arms around me. We take off, both of us whooping and guffawing. My stomach has been left somewhere above us around the top of the hill, but the butterflies have remained. I am not sure how this is quite possible, but it seems to be, because it is happening. We fly down the hill, catching air over bumps and having a thrill. When the snowbank at the bottom looms up, I shriek in delight, and he leans forward and says into my ear, "Lean to the right!"
We both do so, and we careen sideways into the snow, sending white powder flying five feet into the air in all directions. We both collapse in helpless laughter and lie in a tangled heap for a minute or so. When we can move again, we try to disentangle ourselves from each other and somehow manage to get to our feet, both still laughing. His tousled black hair is covered in snow and falling into his eyes.
He looks at me, smiling, for a few seconds, then grins and says in a wicked voice, "Wanna go again?"