Hey there guys, just a very short one-shot from me to get back into the swing of things. I haven't abandoned my other story, the 23rd, or anything but due to recent events I haven't been able to write very much.
Anyways I don't own Harry Potter. Also pre-warning, there is a single swear word, I'm sure you can all deal with that, no?
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"UP!"
The broom rose smoothly to meet Harry's hand.
"UP! UP! UP!"
Ron's rolled around on the ground a bit before it too rose, less smoothly than Harry's, and almost too fast for Ron. He quickly managed to wrest it under control again.
"Up."
Hermione politely commanded her broom to rise. It seemed to feel her hesitation and did absolutely nothing.
"Up!"
The addition of slight force to her tone didn't seem to convince the broom. She looked around at the rest of the class out of the corner of her eye, before fixing her gaze once more on the glorified cleaning tool.
"UP!"
Hermione huffed angrily as the broomstick failed to respond to her satisfaction. More than half the class now had their brooms in hand, and the others were at least rolling a little across the ground. Hers was unresponsive, almost as if it was taunting her with her failure.
She scowled down at it, arms crossed, contemplating how to proceed without making a fool of herself.
"Umm Hermione, would you like to try with this one?"
Harry offered his broom tentatively, after seeing her dilemma.
"No!" She snapped, "I can do this."
Harry awkwardly pretended that he hadn't said anything at all.
She would not be bested by this magical mode of transport, she was not the top scoring student in the year for nothing. She set her face in determination, stretched her arms a little, and held her hand once more over the broom, she took a deep breath.
"UP!"
It was perfect. It had all the right amounts of dignity, authority, command and self-assurance. Harry and Ron were secretly impressed, and in a fleeting moment they could see what a striking and formidable woman she would be in the future. It all came crashing down though, as the broom merely twitched. Not even a roll, a twitch.
The two boys could see Hermione was struggling.
"These brooms are lousy anyway," said Ron, "You were probably just unlucky to get one that's broken. Try one of these instead."
Hermione could see the logic in that, yet her stubbornness and pride had her hesitating. Glaring at the broom that lay at her feet, eventually her desire to succeed bested her feelings of wanting to conquer that particular broom.
Harry set his broom on the ground and moved to make room for Hermione. She stood over it and took another deep breath.
"UP!"
The broom jumped a bit on the ground on the first and second command, but on the third, it rose slowly up to Hermione's hand. She grinned in triumph, handed the broom to Ron and stepped back over to the first one. After having done it successfully now, she felt that she could get her first broom to obey.
"UP!"
Again, nothing.
Hermione tried, again and again, to get this one broom to rise. She tried everything she could think of, she yelled, begged and cajoled. She threatened, bribed and pleaded. The broom simply would not respond. A few of their classmates watched her on the sly. Harry and Ron could see that Hermione was very close to her breaking point, they had never before seen her look so frustrated. Her eyes were beginning to brim with unshed tears.
"Look, Hermione," Harry said stepping forward, "This broom is obviously faulty."
"Up!" he said loudly, to prove that it wouldn't do anything.
The broom rose quickly to meet his hand. His shocked gaze met Hermione's, somewhere behind him he heard Ron's exclamation of 'Bloody hell!'
Hermione seemed to swell with fury.
"Err..." Harry looked worried.
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"
Ron fainted.
-o-o-
The End.
Everybody has those days though, amirite?