Fly me to the Moon
An evil plot bunny written in an hour because I needed to get the attacking creature out of my head!
Disclamier: Seriously - I own nothing. I own the plot. The plot is all I own. The plot is all I will probably ever own. The rest is J.K's
The story:
Hermione sat in the stands overlooking the Quidditch pitch, just looking at the stars lighting up the night sky. Although she often claimed her dislike of the sport and the worry it caused her while watching her best friends streak across the pitch, it was the one place that she could always come to find a surreal calm. She loved just being able to sit there, looking up at the night sky...it was her escape from the real world.
Sitting there on the warm summer night, her thoughts were claimed once again by the person who had dominated them so often over the past school year. Hermione was in her seventh year at Hogwarts and it was the week before she finally graduated as a fully-fledged witch. Surprisingly, the studious woman didn't have a clue as to what she wanted to do once she left. There were so many options open to her and so many fulfilling things she could do with her life. Yet she could not choose.
Even more surprising was the fact that she hardly thought about it: her mind was too preoccupied with the one person she knew she could never have.
Flashback
Hermione entered the Great Hall for the last start of term feast she would attend as a student at the school which had been her home for the past seven years. It was a year of lasts. However, upon taking her seat at the end of the Gryfindor table, her eyes were drawn to the Head Table. Sitting at the end of it, next to Hagrid, was none other than Oliver Wood. She recognised him immediately – he had been the Quidditch captain during her first three years at Hogwarts.
Blinking rapidly, Hermione was drawn out of her thoughts when she noticed he was holding her gaze and she realised she had been staring at him. He gave her a slight smile before turning to listen to the sorting hat's new song. The young woman felt her face heating as her stomach did a feeble summersault.
'Yep' thought the new Head Girl, 'The old crush is back – and I can just see it's gonna bite me in the ass.'
End Flashback
That feast was the starting point for much worry from Hermione. Professor Wood, as he was now to be called, had been announced as the new flying teacher. Dumbledore had decided it was a useful skill for the witch or wizard to have and had asked all those who wished to learn (or improve their flying skills) to sign up for the new classes, which would be included in the timetables.
Harry and Ron had, of course, signed up immediately. However, while they tried to get Hermione to give flying another chance, she had decided that she was not going to be swayed and the two boys therefore failed miserably. Hermione could still remember her first flying lesson. Within five minutes of it starting, Neville had been rushed to the Hospital wing with a broken wrist and Harry had almost been expelled for racing after the rememberall left behind by the injured boy. To top this with all the horrible experiences her best friend had suffered on the Quidditch pitch, Hermione decided she definatly did not like flying – or heights for that matter.
The year seemed to have passed quickly for Hermione. It seemed that the less she wanted to leave Hogwarts, the closer her final graduation seemed to get. Before she knew it, Christmas had arrived and she was one of the few students left in the castle. While she missed her parents and wished she could spend the holiday with them, she didn't want to miss her last christmas in that magical place.
Flashback
Hermione was patrolling the corridors as part of her Head Girl duties. There wasn't many students left over the holidays and she didn't really see the point. However, a reponsibilty was just that and Hermione undertook it regardless of a point or not. Seeing as the corridors were so quite, the girl had immersed herself in her thoughts about a certain young professor. She wasn't paying any attention to her surroundings and it wasn't until she had landed on the floor did she notice the chest she had slammed so forcefully against.
Looking up into the eyes of none other than Oliver Wood, Hermione picked herself up and dusted herself off. She returned his smile shyly before looking back at her shoes. He started talking to her and just his accent was enough to make her gaze drift back towards him.
"Sorry lass, guess I wasn' paying much attention." Hermione blushed and mumbled her own apology before he interrupted her again.
"Noticed ye didn' sign up for flying. How come?" Stuttering out a reply the girl answered.
"I-I don't really fancy the idea of flying. Can't really grasp how people can stand being that far above the ground with on a piece of wood holding them up." She slight blush tinged her cheeks. Oliver just chuckled at her and nodded before giving her another smile and excusing himself.
End Flashback
They had many short encounters after that one and while Hermione wasn't taking a flying course, she somehow became aware of the little habits he had, just from the glimpses and brief conversations she held with him in the corridors, or while she was with Harry and Ron.
For instance, she knew he was, not only a fantastic flyer and Quidditch player, but also a very intelligent wizard. She knew that, when surrounded by large groups of people, he held himself with more confidence than his eyes displayed. She knew that he was embarassed by the fan girls which relentlessly threw themselves at him. In short, from their brief moments together, she seemed to know him pretty well. She would go as far to say that they had become friends.
Hermione was so caught up in her thoughts of the past year that she didn't notice the impending footsteps or the figure that had wandered next to her. In fact, it was only the brush of his arm against her as he sat down next to her, that alerted her to his presence. Slowly, she dragged herself from her thoughts to focus her attentions on the real thing. There, sitting next to her, was none other than Oliver Wood.
Oliver offered her a wide smile before turning his head up to the stars. Hermione let out a soft sigh, her eyes drooping as the work from her previous NEWT level exams caught up with her. With a quick glance at the woman next to him, Oliver shifted his body slightly and wrapped a strong arm around her shoulder. She leant her head against his shoulder, thankful for the support it offered her tired frame. She sighed contently, wishing she could stay that way forever. Just sitting there with him.
Yet Oliver seemed to have other plans. After a just a few minutes he broke the silence.
"Come with me lass." he whispered, taking her hand and leading her along behind him. She gave him a questioning look but went with him nonetheless. Then she realised when he had taken her. Before she could say a word, he had her on the pitch and positioned on his broom in front of him. She gave him a desperate look before gasping as, in one swift movement, he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and kicked off from the ground.
Oliver chuckled slightly as she buried her head in his shoulder. Trying desperatly to forget the fact that she was so far above the ground, she breathed in deeply. His scent seemed to calm her greatly. It was his gentle request and the way his voice seemed to wash over her that made her realise they had stopped, suspended in mid-air.
"Lass, open your eyes. Your missin' the view." He chuckled softly by her ear, breath whispering across her cheek, as she tentively lifted her head from where it was buried in his robes. The sight before her made her gasp once again. Without the stands in her way, she seemed so much closer to the twinkling stars above her. The moon shone down from its vantage point and swept across her face. The glow seemed to light her up and she looked back at Oliver, only to see the bright orbs reflected in his own eyes.
Hermione suddenly became aware of his arms still wrapped around her. Her face was so close to his that they could feel each others breath and she realised that if she just leaned in another couple of inches, she could quite comfortably kiss him. No sooner than that thought had passed her mind, her lips met his.
While neither of them could tell distinguish who made the first move, Hemione knew in that instant that she would let him fly her to the moon if he wanted to.
The End
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