"No !" Alex said for the tenth time. The little witch glanced around her at the beautifully manicured quidditch field. The sun shone brightly. Little white clouds chased one another across a heart-breakingly blue sky. She couldn't believe that such a lovely day, weather-wise, could turn out to be so horribly, irrevocably, bad.

Severus Snape stood in front of her, blocking her path, holding a Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One racing broom. "Just a little ride around the quidditch field," he said implacably.

"No, thanks. I'm really not interested." She eyed the broom with distaste. Sleek and black, it looked positively menacing. Instead of the untidy bundle of twigs Alex remembered as being a feature of school brooms, the Nimbus' twigs were streamlined, groomed into an aerodynamic shape. They looked disturbingly insectile, like a wasps' abdomen. Alex glared at the broom as though it might sting her.

He held the nasty thing out horizontally. It floated between them. "Just mount up, Miss Rose. It really won't be so bad. Just a nice little ride around the quidditch field," he repeated.

She gave him a withering glare. "Really Severus, I do not want to...mount... your broomstick," she said sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes. "We can stand here all night for all I care, Miss Rose. You will ride this broom."

"Ungh !" He took her inarticulate cry of exasperation as agreement. The potions master slung one leg over the broomstick. Floating casually three feet off the ground, he held out his hand to her.

"Just climb on behind me. You'll be fine," he added unconvincingly as she flinched away.

"I...I can't. I don't want to. I won't." Her legs felt locked, as though someone had hexed her. Her feet refused to leave the ground.

Snape sighed heavily. He swung the broom lower to the ground and circled her, his toes dragging in the grass. Grabbing her upper arm roughly, he hauled her after him.

"Uh. Let go ! I can't – damn it !" she shouted. She grabbed his shoulder with her free hand, managed to get one leg over the broomstick. It was that or be dragged across the field by the arm.

"See ? Easy," Snape said triumphantly. "Just lean forward a bit and hold on."

He held the broom still while she adjusted her position awkwardly. Alex glared at his back. The broomstick felt uncomfortable despite its cushioning charm. "Stupid thing." There was nowhere to put her feet. His feet were already on the footrests, which her legs were too short to reach. Faced with the possibility of falling off, Alex hooked her toes over his calves. She held on to his waist uneasily.

"There you go, you're doing fine," he said over his shoulder, heartlessly cheerful. The broom rose ten feet in the air. Alex clutched Snape's robe convulsively, stifling a scream. "Here we go, nice and easy." The broom took off on a slow, low-altitude circuit of the field.

Ohgods-ohgods-ohgods. I'm gonna be sick. All over his robe. Serves him right. Bastard. The broom continued its slow, steady pace. Just as he had promised. Alex cracked one eye open. A goal post flickered by. Oh gods. She squinted both eyes shut again. After an eternity, she dared another look. The goalposts approached, flickered by again. "Hey, we've gone around at least once already," she called to Snape, loosening her grip for a moment and sitting up a bit straighter. "You've had your way. Come on. Let me down."

"Once around with your eyes open," he shouted back cheerfully. "See ? Told you it wouldn't be so bad."

The broom rose another thirty feet in the air as he spoke. Alex stifled another scream and buried her face between his shoulders again. Shit. I hate you.

She found that it was impossible to maintain the level of panic she had been feeling nearly-nonstop since entering the quidditch field before the match. Gradually, she relaxed just a bit. Not enough to ease her death grip around Snape's waist, but enough to lean her head against his back and watch the goalposts and the house boxes slide by.

He called back over his shoulder again. "Feeling better ?"

"I'll feel better when my feet are on the ground," she shouted back. "We've gone around the damn field at least five times. Give it up, already."

He laughed. "So you finally opened your eyes. Good, I was getting bored. All right, we'll land...in a minute." The broomstick took off in earnest now. Startled, Alex caught a glimpse of the goalposts again. They were a blur. She shut her eyes tightly, clutching Snape so hard she was sure his ribs must break. Now the broom shot up in the air. She screamed. Her stomach clenched as Snape put the broom through a loop the loop. She could hear him laughing. Once more the broom whizzed around the field. She felt a sickening drop. He put it through a series of barrel rolls. Once, twice, a third time. She screamed the whole way, drowning out his laughter. At last the wizard brought the Nimbus to a stop in the center of the field.

"Bastard. Bastard !" She slid bonelessly off the broom, still clinging to his robes. He put one arm around her, holding her up. Alex beat against his chest with one clenched fist.

He was shaking with laughter. "Ow. Ow ! Stop that," he laughed helplessly. "Sorry, I don't understand you. Then again, I am a bit deaf from all that screaming."

Alex realized that she was shrieking at him incoherently. She stopped herself and regained her footing, pushing him away. Snape looked disheveled, his robe now creased and missing several buttons. His hair hung lank and oily in his face. "You. Sick. Bastard !" she panted. "Sadist. You promised, just a nice slow ride around the quidditch field." She imitated his pompous voice. "'Nice and slow' - liar !" Alex hit him again. He winced, still laughing.

"It was a nice slow ride. Nice and boring. I kept my promise." He laughed anew at the look on her face, dodged before she could hit him again. "I didn't say anything about what I'd do afterward."

"Ungh !" she screamed in frustration and started off across the field, heading for the castle. Snape followed, carrying the racing broom on his shoulder. He chuckled as he trailed the furious little witch across the grounds. A few students, out enjoying the perfect fall weather, gave them curious looks. He shot murderous glares at them between snorts of laughter.

They were at the steps to the main entrance. He caught Alex's arm. "Miss Rose. Our dinner date ?" he reminded her.

She turned and gaped up at him incredulously. "Our dinner date ? You expect me to go out to dinner with you, after what you just did ?"

Snape frowned. "I don't know why you'd be upset with me. It was just a little flying lesson. I thought it went rather well, considering." His eyes glinted. The corner of his mouth twitched.

Alex glared up at him. Against her will, she felt her own lips twitch into a smile. Blue, she decided. Dark, dark blue. In the bright autumn sunshine, she could just detect the slightest color difference between the black pupil of his eye and the iris. "All right," she relented. "But you have to give me an hour to freshen up."

He looked blank. "Why ? You look beautiful. Um, fine, that is to say. Just as you are."

Alex looked down at herself. The battered remains of the Slytherin corsage still clung above her breast, the ribbon frayed, the flower missing most of its petals. Her hair hung in tangles. She looked at Snape and laughed, shaking her head. "I'm a mess. And I'm all sweaty. Sheesh. And look at you." She shot him a malicious glance. "The back of your robes are covered with snot."

"Well, that will happen when someone insists on having hysterics all over one," he said defensively, still smiling his coyote smile.

Alex shook her head. "You're hopeless," she said. "Meet me back here in an hour," she commanded. "And damn it, Snape, wash your hair."