Chapter 2: Feathers not Bristles
The second time Hermione flew with Harry there were no brooms involved. It was over two years later, and the two teens had survived yet another attempt on their lives, this time via soul sucking creatures called Dementors. Once again Hermione found herself clinging onto to Harry as the two flew through the air on the back of Buckbeak the Hippogriff.
"I don't like this... I don't like this," she mumbled to herself, and she swore she felt Harry stifle a laugh.
Riding Buckbeak, Hermione decided, wasn't like riding a broom. She and Harry had next to no control of where they were going, not to mention what speed they got there. They were only there because Buckbeak wanted them there. A swift jerk in any direction would send them plummeting to their deaths.
To distract herself, to tried to focus on the boy she had latched herself to. Like her, Harry was tense, his arms wrapped around Buckbeak's large neck. For once his hair didn't look messy, but Hermione knew that was temporary, the wind that slicked it back would mess it back up once they started their descent.
His shirt smelled like freshly mowed grass and coffee. The grass made sense, she knew his abusive relatives had him gardening from dawn to dusk during the summer and he was wearing his summer clothes. But the coffee had confused her. Had he started drinking coffee? Had he spilled it on himself? How hadn't she noticed?
No. It made sense that she hadn't noticed, she was surprised that she was still able to remember to eat these days with her workload the way it was. Too many courses.
Of course she was thinking about courses. Ron and Harry would have laughed if they knew what she was thinking about while flying around 100 feet in the air.
As the wind began to slow, she realized they had reached their destination. Harry jumped off first and helped her down in such a gentlemanly fashion that she blushed. Stop it Hermione, now's not the time to crush on your best friend.
She was very happy for the distraction of using magic to bust Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, out of his newest prison. She also realized that she still hadn't let go of Harry's shirt, and she let go sheepishly while Harry grinned.
It wasn't long after that, that Sirius was on the back of Buckbeak flying off into the distance, free as any man fleeing from the law could be.
Harry stopped waving as the two became too distant to see. His jaw was set, and she was struck by how he looked more tense then he had while hurtling through the sky on the back of a massive beast.
"Harry?" she asked tentatively, "Are you-"
He cut her off with a sudden hug, gripping her almost as tightly as she had done to him not 10 minutes prior. She returned the hug for some time before gently pulling back.
"He'll be okay Harry, you know that," she said falling back into her facts, he had survived nearly a year on the run and now he had no other mission (like getting revenge on Peter Pettigrew) to distract him. Harry nodded, only the slight redness in his eyes suggesting that he had been crying.
"We better get back to the hospital wing," he said.
She held out her hand and he took it, and Hermione found herself grateful for the first time that the castle took so long to walk around.