A Few More Days
By alloy
The clouds parted and the afternoon sun returned to bath the meadow behind the house in warm afternoon light.
With long lanky strides the wizard strode out into the field, a broomstick dangling from his fingers.
The witch followed hesitantly after him, behind a curtain chestnut hair, her face pale, her eyes red.
The wizard halted, setting the broomstick at just below waist level he commanded it to hover, then he turned waiting the few moments for the witch to reach him. An explanation ensured, the wizard used his hands, waved his arms, and shifted his shoulders, his entire body almost as if he were dancing.
The witch refused to become engaged, despite the warm summer day, she kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself, nodding intermittently and non-committed.
Eventually the wizard stopped, turned and mounted the broom. He held out his hand gesturing for the witch to mount behind him. She shook her head, gesturing with her hand and he grinned, responding by hovering slightly lower and reluctantly, oh so reluctantly, she mounted the broom behind him, maintaining a two-inch invisible barrier between her and the wizard.
The wizard paused, nodded his head, and gently kicked off from the ground. Almost immediately the broom overturned. The witch shrieked as they both fell, and the wizard contrived to land beneath her, breaking her fall.
For a moment they lay on the ground staring into one another's eyes until the witch broke the spell, scrabbling to her feet, placing her knee in the wizard's stomach in the process.
Slowly he climbed to his feet and resumed his dance of explanation, interrupted occasionally as the witch picked pieces of dried grass from his hair and clothes.
Then the wizard summoned the broomstick to his hand, commanded it to hover as he mounted and again the witch followed him reluctantly. For a moment they hovered, and then for a second time overturned.
This time the witch landed first and the wizard contrived not to land on top of her by landing on his hands and knees astride her body. He held her trapped, talking until she beat her fist against his chest causing him to roll away. The witch rose to her feet and began to walk swiftly toward the house.
The wizard ran after her, grasping her shoulder, turning the witch around, making a brief but passionate plea. There was a pause; a long pause and finally she seemed to agree. The wizard smiled reached out and pulled a stalk of grass from her hair. He allowed his hand to stray for a moment, to tuck a chestnut curl behind her ear.
They returned to the abandoned broomstick, the wizard mounted, the witch followed, but this time she wrapped her arms tightly around his torso.
Gingerly at first, but with increasing confidence they flew backward and forwards across the meadow, essaying dives and swoops and the witch's laughter could be heard on the wind, then she began to shake her head.
"RONALD NO!" she shouted as the wizard pulled the broom into classic loop de loop.
Next to Arthur, Molly let out a giant sob, and he reached out to hold her hand in comfort.
"They don't even know yet, not properly."
"Not so as they will admit it."
Outside Ron Weasley reluctantly landed the broom, with equal reluctance Hermione Granger dismounted and they both trotted toward the house, Hermione's face now flush from excitement.
As they neared the house Ron peeled off toward the broom shed.
"That was fantastic." Hermione said. "I've never enjoyed flying," she continued. "I always felt out of control, but Ron's such a good flyer. I felt quiet safe."
Arthur nodded while Molly struggled to regain her composure.
"A few more days." Came Ron's voice, "and she'll be ready to fetch Harry."
A shadow felt across the setting sun and Arthur shivered.
A few more days and it was Harry Potter's birthday, a few more days and Harry potter would have to leave forever the protection offered by his Aunt and Uncle's house. A few more days and this agonizingly subtle courtship would once again be subjugated to this couple's mutual responsibility towards their best friend.
Arthur sighed.
These few more days that might be a lifetime.
Fin
Author's note:
This story was premised on the notion that Hermione had to fly on a broomstick as one of the 7 Harrys. Once I had written the story of course I decided to check the book and discovered that she didn't travel by broomstick at all. Bother!
I'm going on the assumption that Ron thought she was and decided to get her up to speed as it were.