Disclaimer: Yeah, I own all of these & I'm filthy rich—I wish. Right, so I'm poor and the characters and their world belong to J.K. Rowling. I just like to play make-believe with them.
A/N: Ya know how some stories seem to simply envelope you & won't let you have a moment's peace until they're finished?? I think this is one of those, so if you actually like my fluff keep checking every couple of hours 'cuz I can't seem to do anything but write. So—uh—yeah. On with the show.
A/N part 2: Uh right, I know I said "On with the show" just now, but I had to say something: Thank you thank you thank you to those who reviewed. It means a lot to me! I hate to admit it but my little ego *does* demand attention (annoying little bugger, ain't it?) and the fact that you guys took notice of my story means a lot to me! Now that it's been fed (the ego that is) I think I can crank out a couple more chapters a day! I *hope!* Here's a little teaser R/Hr chapter—hope you enjoy!
*~* Hermione Soars and Secrets Abound*~*
They set the date for the flying lesson for the following Saturday and decided to spend the next week concentrating on the animagus transformation. It was an incredibly tricky procedure. It had taken Harry's father and Sirius nearly four years to perfect it, but Ron and Hermione only had 6 weeks left. Harry had been acting strange all week. He was always asking them all sorts of weird questions and spent a lot of time in the library by himself. Every morning when Ron awoke he would find that Harry had already gotten up, and in the evenings he would be the last to get to bed. By Friday morning Ron had resolved to get to the bottom of whatever his friend was up to.
"Harry," Ron said as he poured salt over his eggs. "Could you hand me a piece of bread?"
"Sure," Harry obligingly handed him some toast.
"Could you hand me some bacon?"
"Sure."
"Could you hand me a cup of that porridge?"
"Sure"
"Could you tell me what on earth you're up to?"
"Su—what?"
Ron was many things, but smooth wasn't one of them. It was ok though, because he didn't expect Harry to tell him. He just wanted to catch him off guard, when a good excuse was the furthest thing from his mind.
"Could. You. Tell. Me. What. You're. Up. To?"
"Ron, what are you talking about?"
"Harry you've been acting queer all week! Running off at odd hours of the day, spending all your time in the library. Your robes look ragged, you've got bags under your Boy-Who-Lived-Eyes and you're quieter than I've ever seen you! What is with you?"
Harry opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Ron.
"And don't tell me it's your homework because I've seen how few assignments you've managed to turn in this week! It's worse than me!"
"Er, I've only been. See, Hermione asked me to…" Harry's gaze turned to Hermione and noticed the questioning look in her eye. He sent her a silent plea begging her to agree with whatever he said. "Hermione's been really worried about that whole Cave of Virtue thing, so I offered to look and see if I can find anything about it while you guys practice transforming." He ran his hand nervously through his hair. "You know, you guys are doing so much already. I just thought I'd do something to help out."
Guilt washed over Ron's face and he paled slightly. "I'm sorry Harry. I just didn't know what was going on and I was, you know, worried. I thought maybe you were having dreams again or something and keeping it from us. I should have known you would never keep anything from us."
Harry avoided Hermione's eyes for the rest of the meal but he couldn't evade her in Herbology. They were partners and even Hermione's drive to do well in class couldn't protect him.
"What was that about," she asked as she trimmed the leaves of the shrivelfig.
"Well, you needed to trim back the leaves before picking off the fruit," Harry instructed. Hermione turned to him with a look that could kill giants. "Er, right. You're not in much of a joking mood, are you?"
"No, Harry I'm not," she whispered with such intensity that it would have been less frightening if she were yelling at him. "Now I'm only going to ask you one more time. What. Was. That. About?"
"Hermione, you and Ron, you're my best friends, but sometimes there are things I just can't tell you."
"Why not? Can't you trust us?"
"Well, of course I can trust you. It's just that..." Harry trailed off thinking deeply. "Right. Do you remember third year when you had to use the Time-Turner to get to all of your classes in time but you couldn't tell me and Ron about it?"
"Y-Yes," she replied slowly. She didn't like where this was going, but she had to admit he had a point.
"It's something that I can't tell you. I would if I could, but if I did it would ruin everything and I can't do that to you and Ron. It has to be a secret."
"Harry, if you're in trouble—"
"I'm not."
"Are you sure?"
"I promise Hermione, if I get into any trouble you'll know right away." He smiled mischievously and moved out of the line of fire from her playful fist just in time.
**
Hermione paced the dorm room nervously. She had come to Ginny to ask for something but now she felt a bit silly. Ginny sat patiently on her bed watching Hermione with amusement. She had an idea what she would be asking about. After all, she hadn't been blind to the fact that Hermione and Ron had spent every waking moment together for the past month "studying" in the library or doing something they wouldn't divulge in the empty classrooms. She always knew it would be a matter of time before they would—
"Ginny, I need to ask you something."
Finally, she thought. "Ok, what's on your mind?"
"Ginny, I--." Suddenly something outside caught Hermione's attention "Well I'm afraid I don't--." She crossed the room to the window and peered out.
Spit it out, Ginny thought. It's not like I don't already know!
"I think that I—I lost my copy of Animagi Mutacio." She spinned around looking at Ginny with an unreadable expression on her face, "have you seen it?"
Her book????!!!! Ginny thought
"Uh, no Hermione. I'm sorry I haven't seen it."
"That's all right, if you do will you let me know?"
"Of course."
With that Hermione left the room. If there had been an invisible observer in the room at that moment they would have seen one girl wearing a very confused expression on her face, and the other looking slightly flustered.
Ron was in deep conversation with Harry when she descended the staircase to the common room. He was holding two brooms in one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other.
"I'm telling you, you pull that move on Malfoy and he'll be dazed the rest of the game! Serves him right, the little git!"
"I hardly think Harry stooping down to Malfoy's level would be a very Gryffindor-like way to win, do you?"
Ron looked back at Hermione who was approaching them with a smug expression on her face. "You don't even know what move I'm talking about," he said.
"Maybe not, but anything that leaves your opponent 'dazed for the rest of the game' sounds like something a Slytherin would do. Now, can we get this flying thing over with? I have some research I want to do in the library."
"Oh no you don't. You can spend all day tomorrow in that stuffy library. Today," Ron held up a rickety old broom up to her, "you fly."
She took the broom and inspected it. She noticed that Ron had given her his old Shooting Star and kept Harry's Firebolt for himself. "How generous of you, Ron," she said as she walked towards the hole leading out of the Gryffindor Tower.
"Well it's not like you'd know what to do with a Firebolt if you had one," he called out as he ran after her. "Besides," he continued once they passed through the portrait hole and made their way down to the Quidditch field, "these things are very sensitive. The slightest twitch could send you reeling in that direction. Best you started out with a less—er—temperamental broom."
"Right."
Hermione's stomach churned with every step she took. She felt sure she would fall to her certain death leaving the remains of Hogwarts' most promising student all over the Quidditch field.
"Ok, Hermione. First thing you do is saddle your broom."
"I'm fine with the getting on part Ron. It's the flying about part that's got me in jitters!"
"Ok. Fine, let's kick off and fly at 10 feet, how's that?"
Hermione nodded and kicked off the ground. The broom shook underneath her hands and as a result she swung back and forth like a giant pendulum.
"Hermione what are you doing?"
"Trying desperately not to get thrown off by your ridiculously disturbed broom, what does it look like I'm doing?"
"Trying to get thrown off by a ridiculously confused broom," he laughed. "You can't pull left and right like that and expect the broom not to go that way!" Now she was moving in even broader sweeps her face was going from pale yellow to a rather pungent green. "Hermione! Come down, you're going to hurt yourself!"
The broom suddenly made a steep dive and headed for a clash collision with the ground. "Pull up Hermione! Pull UP!"
She finally pulled up but didn't stop when she was out of harms way. Her eyes were closed and she was pulling up with all her might. When she finally opened her eyes she was well above 50 feet in the air. It wasn't as high as the Quidditch rings but it was much higher than she had ever gone before.
"What are you *doing*?" She heard a voice call from bellow.
"I just thought I'd have a bit of a look around before I fell violently to my death! What do you think I'm doing? Help me!"
"What?"
"Help me!"
"I can't hear you! Hold on, I'm coming to help!"
Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to hold the broom steady as Ron rose from the ground. As he drew nearer she noticed that his mouth was open in a wide grin and as he approached he couldn't hide the torrent of laughter. "What…are…you…doing?" he gasped out between chuckles. She didn't give him the pleasure of a reply. "Awe don't be mad, Mione. It's just…didn't you take flying with us 1st year? And as I recall you did quite well."
"Well enough to pass," she admitted, "and I haven't touched a broom since. I don't even remember how to land! This was a mistake. Do you think it's too late to learn to apparate?"
"Look Hermione, there's nothing to it. It's just because you're afraid. Listen; let me take you back onto the ground and then we can come up together. I'll fly us around a bit until you get the hang of it, all right?"
Hermione blushed slightly and looked down at her broom, which was a mistake. Immediately she felt woozy and almost fell off the broom. Had Ron not had the fast reflexes of a youngest brother born of years of torture, and had he not been riding a Firebolt, she certainly would have fallen off the broom. Fortunately though, he swooped to her side quickly enough to grab hold of her broom, straighten her up and slowly lower the both of them to the ground.
When they finally touched down Hermione was shaking uncontrollably. As soon as her feet touched down on land she let go of the broom and threw her arms around him. Unfortunately, Ron was at that very moment reaching down to set the Firebolt on the ground. Unsure of what to do he froze in an awkward half bending position, his arms pinned under her embrace.
Realizing their rather strange positioning, Hermione let go and stepped back to an arm's reach from Ron. "Uh, thanks Ron."
"You're welcome," he muttered unable to look her in the eye. "Right. Ok. So I'll, uh, you know, sit behind you and we'll fly together. So you sit and I'll uh, sit behind you. Right. Ok."
With ears the color of the Slytherin house Ron mounted the broom behind Hermione. It was then that he realized this was going to be far more awkward than he had imagined. What do I do with my hands? He thought. It was far from the romantic situation he had envisioned the night before. When it finally came down to it he felt a little strange putting his arms around her waist. Breath, man, he thought. This is just Hermione and you are just teaching her how to get comfortable with flying. With a surge of determination he put his hands on her waist. He felt her flinch under his touch and immediately withdrew his hands. Should have known she wouldn't want to be touched by you, you git! Right. Hands. Where do they go again? On her shoulders. Right. Shoulders are safe. He put his hands on her shoulders and told her to kick off. As soon as she did so the broom started veering back and forth again. Instinctively he grabbed the broom from in front of her and steadied it. His arms were now around her and he didn't look like he had tried to do it! With a rush of confidence he pulled up on the stick and the broom moved up ten more feet. Startled Hermione pressed against him and clutched the broom so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"No wonder your broom was out of control," he laughed. "You're so scared your clutching it with the death grip! I'd try to buck you off too if I were the broom!"
Realizing the implications of such a situation he promptly shut his mouth and pulled the broom up a bit higher. "Right, ehem. So, now we're about 25 feet in the air. Not so bad, is it?"
"Mmhm," was all she could muster.
"Right, let's take you back down a notch, then." He pushed down on the broom slightly and they descended a few feet. Hermione relaxed her grip on the broom but still pressed ever so slightly against him for support. He found that he didn't really mind and leaned forward a bit to make her feel safer. He had no idea how it would make her feel safer or why he wanted to have his arms around her so badly but he pushed those errant thoughts out of his head and forced himself to think clearly.
"Er, right. Is this ok?"
"I—I think this is ok, yes."
"Ok, let's fly around a bit until you're comfortable. Then we'll go up a few feet and do this again, all right?"
They spent the rest of the afternoon circling the Quidditch field, gaining altitude gradually. By the end of the afternoon they had flown 50 feet up and Hermione was gaining courage. Only once did she yelp in fear when Ron had lost his concentration due to the smell of her hair—what was it she was wearing? Was that perfume?—but she had assumed that to have been the fault of her still-shaking hands and he wasn't about to correct her on that one. They had decided however that she should practice at least one afternoon each weekend to get herself sufficiently comfortable with flying to make the cross-country trek. Next week, however, she wouldn't need Ron's assistance on her broom and he would be free to fly beside her. He wasn't quite sure if he was disappointed about not flying so close to her or relieved about not having the distraction of whatever it was she had sprayed into her hair.
**
As the following week drew to a close, Ron and Hermione had an important decision to make. They had mastered the transformation of a bee into an ant, an ant into a ferret, a mouse into a toad, a toad into a fly and a fly into a—rather clumsy—deer. The time had come to begin experimenting on themselves, but before they could begin they had to decide what animals they would become. Hermione had decided that the only way to cross the lava was to fly over, so she reasoned that if she were an eagle and Ron were something reasonably sized she could carry him over with her. That was about as much of a head start she could get from the information on the cave. She prayed Ron would pick something useful to be. He had been going on all week about cheetahs and jaguars.
"Honestly Ronald!" She had taken to using his full name when exasperated with him, "How is a cheetah or a jaguar going to help us?"
"I don't know but I do know I'm not spending all my free time learning to become a toad or a rat!" Hermione rolled her eyes. Ever since Scabbers, Ron had a strong distaste for rodents and was constantly putting them down.
"Well, then be a lizard or something! I don't care just pick something! And make sure it's useful?"
"How in the world is a lizard going to be useful?"
Frustrated, Hermione glared at him and turned back to her insect specimens, many of which had been transformed into much larger animals. She shouted a charm to return them back to their natural forms and turned to the table. Only then did Ron realize that she was stuffing her books into her bag and was preparing to storm out of the empty classroom.
"Where are you going?" He called out as she stomped towards the door.
"Somewhere to start practicing my Eagle transfiguration. I sincerely hope you make a decision before it becomes too late to learn out to do it!" With that she turned, opened the door and marched out.
She's gone batty, he thought. She can't be serious about trying the transfiguration by herself. It's dangerous! What if something goes wrong and she can't transform back to her natural state? He grabbed his things and followed her out into the hallway. He followed as she walked out to the grounds, but before he could exit the massive hall he was stopped by Harry who was looking more haggard than usual.
"Ron!" Harry ran up and doubled over beside, trying to catch his breath. "Has there been an owl for me today?"
"An owl?"
"From Snuffles?"
"Oh, er, not that I know of. Why? Is everything all right?"
"Fine, I just…well I fell asleep for a bit and I was afraid maybe I'd missed it."
"It would probably have woken you up Harry, don't you think?"
"Right, what was I thinking?" Harry continued to breath hard and a sudden wheeze sounded strangely like a "hoot!" making Ron wonder if Harry had really been sleeping. It sounded more like he'd been running a marathon than sleeping through owl deliveries. "I'll, uh, see you at dinner then?"
"Right," and with that Harry turned and ran back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He's getting stranger by the year, Ron thought. I think You-Know-Who's really getting to him. Ron turned his attention back to the grounds and set out to find Hermione before she hurt herself.
(A/N: Ok, the whole flying bit is a blatant and unforgivable rip off of Adnap Nottap's wonderful story "In Which Hermione Finds that Flying Can Be Fun" which can be found at: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=461085 Sorry Adnap—I couldn't resist. You put them in such a deliciously embarrassing situation that I just had to snatch it up. Hope you don't mind—if you do I'll find something else & rewrite the chapter, God willing.)
