Author's Note: I know I promised weekly updates and this is update is breaking that promise, but there was a situation and so this chapter is a bit delayed. Stuff happens, kids. Yous know that I usually try to make it up when my updates are late, so I hopefully you enjoy this chapter :)

How to Love

Chapter Eleven: A Flying Lesson

Harry had expected the money he had given to Hermione for her birthday to show up in one of his textbooks or his school bag, but the evidence that she had kept it was clear over two weeks after the money had been given, when she was sitting in the common room holding the galleons in one small – yet somehow rough, differing from the dainty hands of other girls their age – hand. In her other hand, she held a piece of parchment and was looking at it with some sort of fear, as though it held some sort of threat to her, and so it didn't seem like the average piece of homework. It wasn't the awful, deep fear that she had showed when she saw the boggart-Anthony; it was more like a nervous fear…Harry had remembered wearing that expression before Quidditch games. He wondered what would make Hermione look like that. And so naturally, he approached her about it.

"What's that?" he asked as he took a seat next to her.

She shook her head as though coming out of a trance and curled her fingers over the galleons, which was apparently what she had thought he was talking about. But when he nodded to the parchment, she didn't seem too relieved. "Something ridiculous."

Vague as always. "Care to elaborate?"

"Look, just read it." It was a shock to him that she was actually not putting up a fight. Perhaps what was written on the parchment would be a disappointment, something ridiculous, just as she had said.

Miss Granger,

You are scheduled to have flying lessons this Saturday, the sixteenth. Please meet Madam Hooch at the Quidditch pitch. A broom will be provided for you to use.

Vividly remembering his own first flying lesson, Harry asked, "What's so bad about this?"

"Nothing," she said, sounding defensive. "I was just wanted to, you know, study, and then they have to bother me with a flying lesson."

Harry doubted this was the case…she still sounded nervous. "It's nothing, really," he said, trying not to sound as though he was boasting. But with the look she was giving him, his attempt failed.

"I'm fine when I'm on the ground, you know. I'm not a wuss," she told him. "Flying is just…"

"Something you've never done before."

Hermione nodded. Her hand was clutching the galleons with more force than was necessary. It was odd to see Hermione even slightly nervous about anything, but he guessed that even the tough-looking girl had her weaknesses, no matter how much she tried to cover it up.

"I could help you," he offered suddenly. "I have a Quidditch practice tomorrow, and I could go to the pitch early, you could come with me and I'll help you out."

She hesitated before saying, "No, I'll be fine."

"Look, everyone needs help once in a while," he told her.

"Not me," she said defiantly, lifting her chin up slightly as though to add to the effect. "I'll be fine. I don't need help."

"Let's not call it help, then," Harry insisted. "Let's just call it…getting a head start."

Hermione chuckled a bit – though with or without humor, he wasn't quite sure – and then bit her lip. "I don't know."

"Well, I'm going to the Quidditch pitch at five, an hour before the meeting," he began to conclude. If she didn't show up, at least he could practice flying for a little bit. "You can choose whether or not to meet me there."

"Alright," she agreed, appearing deep in thought as she internally worked on making the decision. "Seems fair enough."

- - - - -

Harry didn't expect her to show up at five, but there was still a tinge of disappointment that sunk his mood a bit when he attended an empty Quidditch pitch. Well, he could still practice flying, as he had planned beforehand if Hermione was to be…well…Hermione.

He mounted the broom and kicked off, enjoying the wind wrapping around him. Everything – dementors, Sirius Black, homework, Snape, and other dreadful things – was gone for that small amount of time as he flew through the air, weightless and free. Harry spun in circles, flew as a small figure against the darkening sky. His messy hair was becoming messier with every second he spent zooming through the atmosphere, but he really didn't care.

Then he allowed himself to fly closer to the ground when he saw her.

Hermione was leaning against the wood that supported the stands. The top row of her teeth was pressed against her bottom lip.

"Getting a head start seems like an alright idea," she said as he landed on the ground, his feet unfortunately returning to the earth. "I might be graded, after all."

Deciding to not show his happiness that she was there, he went along with it. "Of course."

She eyed him as though he was going to laugh at her, but he surprised her when he didn't. "So, what exactly have I signed up for here?"

"A flying lesson," he told her matter-of-factly.

Hermione's hands immediately went to her hips.

Harry gestured for her to come over to him, and surprisingly, she obeyed. "We'll start with mounting the broom, so –"

"I'm using one of the school's brooms?" she asked, a crease forming between her brows.

"You can use mine," he said, and she eyed him strangely again. "So anyways, as I was saying, mounting the broom. Really easy, just stand like this."

He demonstrated for her, and she imitated him almost perfectly. After being corrected over a few things, Hermione had perfect form. "Now, hold the handle – no, it won't fly off by itself, relax – and there, perfect."

"But what if it does go off by itself?" she asked, trying to appear curious rather than nervous.

"Don't worry, you're not Neville, so crazy stuff like that most likely won't happen to you." He didn't blame her for looking confused.

"Er, now what?"

"Well, if you kick off the ground softly, you'll float about a few inches off the ground."

Hermione kept her gaze on the broom as she said, "Er, okay." She reluctantly kicked off the ground extremely soft and was just barely lifted off the ground.

"Perfect," he told her, but she didn't smile. "Now if you lean forward a bit more –"

"What?" she asked incredulously. "What, do you want me doing flips, too?"

Harry raised his hands in false surrender. "Calm down, Hermione."

She flinched at the sound of her name, reacting as though she was someone else hearing Voldemort's name. Knowing she didn't really enjoy being in the air, he told her how to return to the ground and she immediately handed the broom back to him. "I don't know how they expect me to actually fly a broom," she said, exhaling deeply after she spoke. "It really is ridiculous."

"You can get the hang of it," he said. "It's not scary."

"I never said it was scary!" she shouted defensively. "It's just ridiculous, all right? Not everyone wants to fly into the air with nothing but a stupid broom underneath you, holding you up. They can malfunction and – and just tons of things can happen. Tons of bad things, okay?" Hermione leaned back against what supported the stands, breathing heavily.

Harry didn't really know what to say at first, so a silence lasting for a few minutes blanketed them before he finally said, "You think too much."

She shrugged, knowing this already and not being offended by it. "Sometimes it's better to over-think things. It's how I stay safe."

"Oh come on, flying a broom isn't dangerous," he lied. His memory of a particular Quidditch game last year was only too clear. She knew he was lying as well. "How about I stay on the broom with you?"

"What?"

"How about I stay on the broom with you?" he asked more slowly, carefully watching her reaction.

Hermione looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Are you crazy? What makes flying on a broom safer with you there?"

"I know what I'm doing," he told her, putting his hands in his pockets. "You need to get over this fear of yours."

"It is not a fear, Harry!" she yelled.

"Prove it." He lifted the broom up slightly and smirked.

"Oh, no," Hermione said in a low voice. "No. You're being ridiculous."

"It is a fear," he told her, "and you need to get over it. It's not like I'm making you fly by yourself."

"It is not a fear," she repeated, however she didn't yell this time. "And I honestly don't see how you being there would make a difference. Bad things could still happen, you know."

Harry ignored her and mounted the broom. "Sit behind me," he instructed.

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"You saw me flying before," he reminded her. "Nothing's going to happen."

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. "You don't know that."

Harry shrugged. "Come on," he insisted, extending a hand. When she didn't say anything else, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

Hermione appeared to have stopped breathing for a second: she was completely still as her chocolate brown eyes stared back at him. And almost robotically, numbly, without any emotion, she stepped towards him and mounted the broom behind him. Her arms wrapped around his waist and he felt the side of her face press against his upper back.

Harry kicked off the ground lightly because he wasn't sure if Hermione's thin arms could keep her on the broom, but she was surprisingly strong. She didn't say anything as he had guided them through the air slowly, exploring pieces of the sky; there were no protests or discussions about whether or not this was, as she had put it, "ridiculous". A comfortable silence was placed between them while they soared through the atmosphere lazily with no sense of time. Her breath was a little uneven, but overall, she seemed content. Then her arms were slowly loosening their grip around his waist, and he wondered if she was falling asleep or finding herself trusting him more.

It seemed more likely that she was falling into a slumber, and so he returned to the ground. But to his surprise, a very conscious Hermione dismounted the broom at the same time he did. He turned to her, wondering if she would tell him that flying was still ridiculous, and that that was a bad idea, but she surprised him again by having the smallest smile on her lips.

Author's Note: You have no idea how many times I rewrote that scene. I hope you're all happy with the unspoken trust and whatnot. And again, I'm sorry for this being late and for any errors I made; I'm tired as heck, man. Thanks for reading :)