"Do you really expect me to wear this?" Hermione asks as she reaches the top of Primrose Hill slightly out of breath.
"Well it will be frightfully cold up there without it." Draco calls out brightly after a beat, adding with a lower voice. "Good morning."
"Good morning would be if spent on the ground." Hermione answers without bite, turning around to admire the view.
It's a beautiful morning over London. The skies are clear and fresh with the moisture of a late dawn still hanging in the air. Hermione turns away from Draco to admire the skyline in front of her. It's a striking mix of nature, history and muggle modernity as far as the eye can see. The trees in the park are already crimson but still lush even this late in the season. Church spires dot the landscape, some of the bells ringing the carillon for Sunday mass, while St Paul's cathedral grandly sits in the middle like the Dame that she is. The peaks of the BT Tower and Canary Wharf standing tall for the muggle achievements of the twentieth century, along with the dozens or more construction sites peppered across the city heralding a new millennium. Hermione takes a deep breath, sampling the autumn air through her nostrils, calming her drumming heart.
"If I were a betting witch, I'd wager a 'muggle repelling charm' is at play?" She turns back to Draco sitting casually on a bench, sporting Ray-Ban sunglasses and a smirk. She quirks an eyebrow at him, looking suspiciously at the deserted hill top, usually strewn with people enjoying the sights.
"Touché!" He answers, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But to my defence the bench was already free when I arrived so the charm has only kept newcomers at bay. It will cancel out as soon as we're airborne."
"Speaking of which…." Hermione attempts to launch into her opening statement for the proceedings of Granger v Broomstick. But Draco preempts her by standing up and approaching. Has he always been this tall? She's not really sure where to look for fear of being caught ogling. She thought he was dapper in his suit but seeing him casually dressed in denims, roll neck jumper and a sports jacket, it should be illegal to look that good on a Sunday morning.
"Listen Granger, at first I thought it was going to require some really compelling arguments to actually get you to jump on a broom with me." His smile doesn't waver. "And if I'm being honest, I'm still not sure I'm prepared to counter every single one of your objections. But at the end of the day, you're here right now, when you knew full well what I had planned for us. You woke up and got ready to meet me on this beautiful day. So let's not pretend you didn't count flying as being one of the possible outcomes, you are after all wearing the jacket. I want us to capitalise on that probability and enjoy the best views of the great city of London."
He pulls leather gloves out of his pocket, putting them on deliberately. "Besides you know I'm a good flyer. I also promise a leisurely pace." He lowers his sunglasses, staring straight at her, then finally drops the smile, asking with a deeper tone and newfound intensity. "So what is it going to be?"
Hermione is lost for words at his forwardness, mind you not for very long. She was expecting taunts at Gryffindors' bravery and being riled up to show more courage. But in the end, he read her like a book. She would have had no qualms sending the jacket back with an apology if she had decided she wasn't going to go flying with him. She had dressed for warmth as instructed in that heavy shearling jacket. She was only just relieved that he didn't seem to expect her to be flying her own broom.
Truth be told there is a stubbornness about her that never can bear to be frightened at any situation. Ah! She thinks, he has me quoting Pride & Prejudice now, what is going on here?
"You are insufferable." She concedes equally mumbling and grinning, finally dropping his gaze. "So be it, but let's establish some rules here." She raises a finger looking back at him. "First no speeding, swerving, looping, diving, intempestive braking or any other maneuvers that one would categorise as reckless, under any circumstances." She raises another finger. "Second, I ride behind you, not in the front.", her final fingers goes up "And thirdly, I'll cast the disillusionment charm myself. I don't want to cap today's excitement by triggering a mass obliviation event."
The intensity in Draco's eyes changes to something more playful as his grin makes its way slowly across his face. He slides his sunglasses back on, preventing Hermione from second guessing him any further then takes a small broom no bigger than his palm out from his jacket pocket.
"Want to cast the disillusionment charm before I reverse the reducio? We wouldn't want to mess with point number three before we're even in the air, now do we? Get behind me so I don't have to grapple around to help you straddle the broom, and adhere to point number two." Deciding she'll save her eyeroll for a more worthwhile argument, Hermione complies. Soon enough they are both invisible except for a faint outline against the background.
Draco drops the shrinking charm on his broom. He can feel the handle returning to its full size in his hand. He cannot help himself and pivots slightly calling out, even though he can't really see the witch behind him "Ready? Don't hesitate to hang on, but I promise to go no faster than an autumn leaf falling lazily from its tree."
"Where are we going?" Asks Hermione in his ear.
Draco has to repress a shiver, he hadn't anticipated that she would already be standing this close to him. "So we'll go past St Paul's, then take a left. It's pretty much a straight shot from there."
"Straight shot to where?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out." He replies kicking off the ground. It's a good thing he's disillusioned, the game would most definitely be up if she could see his Cheshire cat's grin as he feels her body getting closer to his, her arms encircling his waist. Yes indeed the game would definitely be up.
But Hermione is not giving up so easily. "Why don't you tell me and then we'll both know?"
"Granger..." Draco enunciates the syllables of her last name with the most authoritative voice he can pull off, short of impersonating his loathsome father. He intends to convey verbally only, since he's not afforded visual cues; that it will be his last warning before dire consequences befall Hermione in her search for knowledge.
Hermione isn't fooled by his reaction, she is even amused by it. "What is it with wizards and their egos? I don't know how you make it through the day with them."
Draco is almost offended. Almost. For once he could say with a clear conscience that it wasn't his ego at play here. For once. Sweet Salazar, how unfair to have his intentions questioned when they are pure. Somewhat. "What? It is not my ego!" He still feels that he should build up his defence. "I just don't want to ruin the surprise."
He decides to go with the proven strategy of changing the topic, bringing their conversation back to the city below them. "Look on our right, you can already see the British Museum's courtyard." He inclines the broom gently to convey the direction since he cannot point it out for her, then heads south to pass Covent Garden, still sleepy mid-morning on a Sunday. Approaching Embankment, he veers slightly left following the Strand for a while then steers east over Somerset House to follow the stream of the Thames, heading lazily towards its estuary.
As they pass St Paul's cathedral on their left, he cannot help turning his head to the right to check out his flat at the top of the modern building exactly opposite. He's hoping that in the not so distant future, he will be able to show off his own personal vista of the edifice from his windows. Merlin knows he has the most perfect view from his master suite, especially when reclining against his headboard.
The Globe Theater quickly rolls by when he decides to swerve in a large arc, smoothly for he hasn't forgotten about rule number one, around the Tower of London, swooping slowly around the White Tower before turning around over St Katharine's Docks thus ending up back on the river, only facing west this time, exactly in front of the the imposing and gothic beauty of Tower Bridge.
They alight on the roof of the westerly walkway joining the two eponymous towers of the bridge at the top. "You can release the disillusionment charm, I've cast a notice-me-not around the rug. We'll be safe from view." Draco asks not without a smug tilt in his voice.
As her feet touch down, she suddenly notices a thick oriental carpet and scattered cushions creating a cozy sitting area resting on the top of the lead roofing covering the walkway.
Hermione's very impressed. She drops the charm and admires the sight in front of them. The sun in the east warms up their backs, illuminating the city in a warm glow. The waves on the Thames glitter in their rapid pace, running to the sea and taking the sounds of the waking city with them. They have a perfect view over the Tower of London. They can even see Big Ben as well as the recently opened London Eye in the distance.
"I thought we could stop for tea before continuing on our tour." Draco offers while conjuring a silver service, pocketing his sunglasses. He swivels to reach for the tray when he completely forgets that he's still holding his broom and proceeds to whack Hermione forcefully in the head with a loud smack.
Hermione, still taken with the view, most definitely not expecting an assault on her person, recoils in pain. She stumbles forward, almost plunging in the cold water below.
Draco thankfully hasn't lost his seeker reflexes, they are coming into increasingly good use lately, and grabs the witch by her waist to prevent her falling over.
"Fuck, Granger!" Are his first eloquent words. "I'm so sorry, are you alright?" Then again for good measure, to ensure he loses every ounce of cool, he drops his broom in a clatter: "Fuck! Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I don't know how I could forget about the broom! Fuck!"
Hermione's head is throbbing, and her heart is galloping in her chest. Not the good kind of galloping, the scared witless kind of erratic. She manages to take a few deep breaths. Her brain comes back in control after asserting she's no longer in harm's way. She was never in grave danger anyway with her magic and wand in her sleeve, but she would have got drenched at the very least.
"Ow!" Is Hermione's own eloquent response to the situation as she cradles her pounding forehead in her hand.
"Let me see, please." Cajoles Draco looking part concerned and part, is it sheepish? "I've become proficient at several numbing charms over the years. If I apply an episkey soon enough it should prevent most, if any, bruising." He's still holding her by the waist with one arm, using his other hand to gently tilt her chin in order to get a better look at her brow.
She stares at his eyes, bright grey and apprehensive in the reflected light, looking down at her. She can only manage a nod in acquiescence but feels instantly better after he's performed the offered charms.
Her heart is still beating a syncopated melody only she is privy to. She's not positive she's still reeling from her near fall, but then again couldn't completely discount it. What else would account for her fitful heartbeat?
"There. Better?" Draco relinquishes his hold on her begrudgingly. "We may be wizards, but above all we are English. And in moments of great upset, we turn to the restorative benefit of tea!" The twinkle in his eyes is back, but his smile is softer, no longer the cocky smirk of earlier. "I hope you'll enjoy this rare Earl Grey blend I have for us."
Hermione smiles back at him, gracefully accepting the offered steaming cup of tea, sitting down on the plush cushions with a happy sigh.