Summary: Al attempts to teach Scorpius how to ride a bike. It was just like riding a broom… right?
Rated: K
Genre: Humor
Warning Tag: n/a
Competition/Challenge Block:
Written For: Monthly Challenges for All (Year 3); Hogwarts (Term 14)
Hogwarts: Ravenclaw; A.7 - Arts & Crafts #5: Write about someone being helpful/useful to someone else.
MC4A: Sp Bingo (5E-Bicycle); Link; Star (Pear-Shaped; Pocky Pockets); Fence (Machismo); T3 (Terse; Toad); ICs (In a Flash (Y); Bucket Listing (Y); Two Cakes (Y); Eating Cake (Y); Future Era (Y); Ravenclaw MCx2; Old Shoes (Y)
Word Count: 845
Bicycle not a Broom
Scorpius stared at the muggle contraption propped against the fence in front of him. Al called it a bicycle, a type of transportation people used and something most had in their childhoods. Of course, Scorpius never had one himself, he had a training broom, but Al had both a broom and a bike. Somehow during his visit, Al talked into him trying out the terrifying thing, and curiously yet fearfully, Scorpius agreed.
"That's it?" Scorpius asked, looking to Al, who stood beside him. "That thing looks horrifying!"
Al strapped a strange looking helmet onto his head. It didn't quite look like the ones they wore for Quidditch; instead of leather, it was made of plastic and foam.
"It's really not, mate. I'll show you how it works so you get an idea of it, yeah?" they said, snapping the strap under his chin. "It's just like riding a broom, really."
"Brooms don't have strange handles and foot things," Scorpius remarked.
"Sure they do, silly!" Al deadpanned, grabbing the bicycle by the handles and walking it to the dead-ended street. "Where do you think you put your hands and feet on a broom?"
Scorpius rolled his eyes at that. Al knew exactly what he meant, after all. They both knew the parts of a sports broom down to identifying wood types to bristle and curve styles.
Al threw a leg around the saddle-looking seat that sat on a rod. Scorpius already found that part very unnerving. Why would you sit over something so clearly dangerous? They put a foot on the spikey looking flat piece—Al called them pedals— and kicked his other foot to get some forward momentum. It was sort of like taking off on a broom, Scorpius supposed.
He watched his friend ride the contraption down to the cul-de-sac, circling around it, and rode back toward where Scorpius watched and waited on the pavement in front of Grimmauld Place. He instinctively stepped back when Al came to a halt in front of him, using a metal lever on the handle to stop himself.
"See? Easy peasy. Just like a broom," Al explained, popping off his helmet and placing it on Scorpius' head. "You'll take to it like a duck on water."
"I highly doubt that," Scorpius said under his breath, raising his chin so Al could buckle the strap. "If I die, my father is going to kill you, you know."
"Well, good thing that isn't going to happen."
Taking a deep breath, Scorpius eyed the bicycle Al held up for him. It looked nothing like a broom, with its cords and metal frame, how could it ride like one? He mimicked the action of throwing his leg over it and sitting on the seat. It felt odd, but was marginally better than a broom. So far so good.
"Now, put one foot on the pedal and keep your other one on the ground to keep yourself up."
Scorpius did, and Al let go of the bars almost immediately after. The front of the bike started to turn, shifting its weight and balance. Scorpius' eyes widened. This was the end.
"Put your hands on the handles!" Al said quickly, stumbling over his words, and Scorpius clamped his hands hard over the rubber handles at the end of the bar in front of him, steadying the bike. "Ok, now, like a broom, sort of just… push yourself forward with your foot and then put it on the other pedal to push the tire forward. Keep the wheel straight and you'll be fine."
Scorpius didn't like this, but he did what he was told and turned the wheel so it faced forward. His feet felt like lead, though, and it took him a moment to remember how to breathe before pushing himself forward. His foot caught the bottom of the pedal when he picked it up off the pavement, and his other one pushed it downward, propelling him forward. He kept trying to find the pedal with his foot, but instead hobbled awkwardly down the road, the pedal hitting his ankle each time. When he finally got his footing by looking down to see what was going on, the handles started to wobble, and the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, bike tangled up around his legs.
Al jogged up to him a second later, laughing like a fool. "You alright?"
They offered a hand and Scorpius took it to sit upright, examining the damage before trying to pull his leg out from under the bike. "Definitely nothing like riding a broom. It tried to eat me alive."
"Well, that's because you weren't picturing it like one, mate," Al said, continuing to chuckle as he lifted the bicycle off Scorpius before helping their friend up. "Care to try again?"
"I don't think so," Scorpius announced, removing the helmet and offering it back to Al. "I think I will stick to the brooms."
"Well, I won't lose hope on you, yet," Al said, hopping back on the bike again. "Here, watch me again."