The Story of Jessica Black

Chapter Five: Falling

Jessica stepped onto the oval shaped field, and saw a black-haired boy zooming around so fast that he was a blur. He dove and recovered, did loop-the-loops, and turned sharply around the goal posts (at least, she assumed they were goal posts). She smiled. He seemed very talented. She walked into the center of the field and felt the breeze around her. Harry didn't seem to notice, until she spread her arms out, lifted her face to the sky and spun around in circles. She spun faster and faster, laughing, and then collapsed to the ground, watching Harry fly. She didn't know why, but she felt extremely happy, just watching him swoop and dive, not noticing her. She closed her eyes, smiling, and Harry landed beside her. She only noticed when his shadow fell across her face. She opened her eyes again, and saw Harry smiling at her.

"Have you ever flown before?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

She shook her head. He held out his broom. "This here, is the best broom in the entire world. The Firebolt." Jessica handed it back to Harry.

"You won't give it a go?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I'm a bit afraid of what might happen when I get off the ground. I'm afraid I might fall," she said, slightly embarrassed.

Harry swung one leg over the broom and held out a hand. "Come here," he said. She shook her head. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his eyes filled with more life than she had ever seen, a brilliant, emerald green, full of electricity and excitement. She looked sideways at him.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"Do you trust me?" he repeated, not removing his hand and holding her bright blue gaze. Jessica hesitated only a moment, then took his hand.

He pulled her toward the broom, and she swung one leg over, sitting in front of him. He put her hands on the handle, his hands firmly over hers, and kicked off from the ground.

They didn't fly quite as high or as fast as they would have if it had been only one rider, but they flew fast and high just the same. Jessica felt wonderful, zooming around the Quidditch pitch with Harry's hands on hers, guiding the broom right and left and around in circles. She didn't even feel afraid of falling. The only falling she was worried about, was falling in love.

Harry gently leaned into her, pointing the broom handle down. She could smell his cologne and he could smell her shampoo. Both of them shuddered, but not from the wind that was now whipping gently around them.

They touched down softly, and dismounted the broom. Harry's right hand, however, remained on top of Jessica's, still holding the broom. They stood there for a moment, neither of them looking at each other, until Harry slid his hand down a little farther on the broom. Jessica let go of it quickly.

"I . . . I have to go," she stammered, quickly leaving the field, "I have Transfiguration."

When she reached the entrance she broke into a run.

I did it, Harry said, I officially screwed everything up. He hung his head. This was stupid. It was just a little infatuation. There was no way he could be . . . falling in love.

Jessica brushed her hair out of her face. This was stupid, she thought, he was famous Harry Potter. She didn't even know him. The only reason she even thought she felt like this was because he was good-looking. Just a little infatuation, she told herself, that's all.

Professor McGonagall greeted her in the entrance hall.

"Been out flying, Black?" she asked with a half smile on her face.

Jessica stopped abruptly, all the color draining from her face. Had she seen? Fortunately, Professor McGonagall smiled widely. "Come inside, Miss Black," she said kindly.

Jessica laughed and ran up the steps to follow Professor McGonagall inside. It was odd, but since the train ride, Professor McGonagall and Jessica had become quite close. Even though Transfiguration wasn't her best subject (ahem, she was a bit like Neville Longbottom there, actually), McGonagall had become like a kind of motherly figure to Jessica.

Jessica spent a whole hour and a half trying to master the "art" of turning a teapot into a tortoise and vice versa. She was only remotely successful when Professor Sprout came to get her and take her to the greenhouses.

Note taking was not something Jessica had been prepared to do in Herbology, but take notes she did, for nearly two hours, when Professor Sprout finally looked at her pocket watch and declared that it was time to end class. Jessica gladly packed up her books and began to head back into the castle when a familiar voice called from a way off, "Oy, Jessica! Over here!"

Jessica turned and found Ron and Hermione walking toward her. She smiled and began to walk toward them. She noticed, again, that Harry was not with them.

"Where's Harry?" Jessica, Hermione, and Ron asked simultaneously.

"I thought he was with you," Jessica said.

"No," Ron answered, "We thought he was with you, as he f-" His sentence was cut off by an elbow in the stomach by Hermione. "Ouch! Hermione, why did you do that?" he asked, rubbing his side. Hermione ignored him.

"Maybe he's up in the common room," she suggested. Jessica nodded, and the three trekked up to Gryffindor Tower.

They arrived in the common room, but found it nearly empty. Except, to Ron's regret, his brothers, Fred and George. The twins had one more year left, and seemed to be making the most of arriving at school early.

"Hullo, Ron," said Fred, "Been wondering when you'd show up."

"Who's the girl?" asked George, eyeing Jessica with interest, "New girlfriend?"

Ron turned pink and muttered, "No." Jessica laughed.

"I'm Jessica, a friend of Ron's. No, wait," she said before the twins could introduce themselves, "You have to be relatives of his. Judging by how close you look, I'd have to say brothers. Older, by the looks of you. Maybe, seventeen?"

Fred and George looked at each other, then back at Jessica. "You're good," said Fred, walking over to her, extending a hand. George followed suit. "I'm Fred and this is George. We're Ron's seventeen-year-old brothers." Jessica shook their hands, then asked, "Have either of you seen Harry? You do know Harry, right?"

"Do we know Harry," George said, he and his twin giving each other mock offended looks, "O'course we do. Play Quidditch with 'im, don't we, Fred?"

"That's right. Beaters, we are. Harry's best damned Seeker we've had in years," Fred answered back.

"Umm, have you seen him in here?" she asked, before the boys got into endless Quidditch talks.

"Yeah, he was down here a while ago. Mooning over something, I think. Had this weird look on his face before he said he was going up to his dormitory," Fred said.

"Thanks," she said. Hermione and Jessica turned to Ron.

"What?" he asked. The girls shot him a look, and Ron said, "All right, all right, I'll go get him."

Ron trudged up the stairs and banged the door open into the fifth years' room. Harry was sitting on his bed, staring at his Firebolt. Ron came over quietly and stood next to him. It was a while till Harry acknowledged Ron's presence.

"I don't want to talk," he said, not even looking away from his broomstick.

"We don't have to talk," Ron said, sitting on his own bed, which happened to be right next to Harry's. "I'll sit here till you do."

"Fine," Harry answered, "You'll be here a good while."

"I've got time."

They sat in silence for another few minutes, then Harry said, "I'm in trouble, Ron."

"Trouble?"

"Yeah. You know Jessica?"

"Yeah, I know Jessica," Ron said in a voice that made Harry give him a look to rival Hermione's.

"Well, the trouble is . . . I think I might be falling for her."