A/N: I'm sorry that it has taken so long… I was gone for a little over a week and then my drive was gone… sorry. I've had this half written for ages and was just never in the mood to finish it. I am so sorry. I hope you enjoy it!

Before I thank you all, I would like to ask if any of you would like to beta or would like me to beta for you. I would love to do it and I am feeling that these need it. lol. If you want to do a re-write I would post your version of the chapter, just leave it in a comment.

Cabbage Rose- I needed for there to be a conflict with Dean, so that was the obvious choice without needing too much back story. :)

Gylfie- Fast? Really? I'll work on that. I think you'll be pleased with this build,

Tria (October Tuscany)- Yeah. It's interesting. :)

Tanya- Thanks a ton!

Hannah (Baseball Fanatic) – Thanks a bushel and a peck!

SleepyHead22- You know what goes best with caffeine? Mocha! I'll start other stories after this, but due to my canon obsession, it can't possibly exceed 5 chappies. kisses to you too!

Lissie – Yeah. I felt it showed Ron as sensitive. lol. I'll try to keep it up!

Emma-Lynn – w00t 2u2!

Surfgirl15- I can't wait to write more!

Charmingly-Holly - you are one of my favorite fanficers! I really wanted it to be totally believable. Even the Yorkshire pudding. (Ron was talking and spit some on her):)! I think you are going to especially love a little detail in this chappie :)

Phoenixwings13- It is the summer after 5 and before 6 though it is in HBP!

Snicket- Thanks:P

Immi(QueenLover)- You rock so freakin' much!

"Learning to Fly"

By: Cydni Smith

Chapter 3:

"Come Fly with Me"

The girls ran down the stairs and entered the kitchen. The table was immaculate. Every food you could have at a Hogwarts' dinner was crowded on the table and with the sun set approaching the light playing on the room caused an almost ethereal glow. Hermione almost gasped as her eyes fell upon Ron. She couldn't avert her eyes as she moved towards the chair opposite him.

He was faced away from her and looking out the window, pensively. His angelically illuminated ginger hair fell untidily and utterly-perfectly around his freckled face. His head, cocked slightly to the side, rested on his large fist in a manner that gave a strong, though thoroughly Ron resemblance to the Thinker. She imagined what it would feel like to touch his hands, his hair, his face- his lips.

"Hermione," Ron said gently. Yes, Ron. Wait, how are you kissing me and talking at the same time? "Hermione." He leaned over the table's excessive spread to pass his hand in front of her face and when she didn't respond Ginny kicked her shin from her vantage point, the seat to her right.

"Owwww. Ginny! What was that for," Hermione asked, snapping back into reality. She sent a not all too happy glare at her assaulter while rubbing her battered leg.

"You were ogling my brother –again," she replied giggly through gritted teeth so that no one, but Hermione, could hear. Hermione's face flushed a scarlet that could have rivaled that of any Weasley. She turned her eyes down to her plate and began to swirl her string beans.

"Hermione, what were you thinking about that would send you into a trance like that? Spew," Ron asked jovially as he piled hearty helping of everything onto his plate.

I was thinking about you, you insolent little – "Nothing in particular. And, Ronald, S.P.E.W. is not a joke."

"I never said that spew was a joke," Ron smiled between bites of potatoes.

"Dear, can you please pass the gravy?"

"Sure, Mum."

"Sure, Mrs. Weasley."

Their hands crossed on the boat and time seemed to freeze. Hermione felt that time felt remarkably warm and fuzzy for being frozen. They both swallowed (Ron's Adam's apple bobbing adorably) and Hermione smiled weakly, "No problem." They both recoiled slowly. Ginny, seeing that her mother would never get to eat if these two were left in charge, passed the gravy boat to her mother.

"Are we still on for the flying lessons," he asked bashfully, the tips of his ears flushed, even more brightly.

"Yeah. Definitely," she replied in a dreamy voice that was oddly reminiscent to Luna's. She caught herself staring again and corrected it.

Dinner passed uneventfully, the pair sneaking glances as they ate, small smiles playing on their lips.

---- Quidditch Pitchy Field Area---

The pair stood on the field watching as the sun began it's descent in the West. Ron held two brooms: one for him and one for Hermione. Hermione held her breath.

"Since you never really got past class in first year, I thought that we should start with one broom and go over the basics," He leaned the older broom against the peeling shed and set his clearly manicured Cleansweep Eleven on the ground. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the left side of the broom. He stood on the right. "Up," he commanded to the broom that had begun to rise before he had opened his mouth. He set the broom back down. "Now it's your turn."

Hermione grimaced. She extended her hand, looked down at the broom, and in a voice riddled with self-doubt commanded or, rather, asked, "up?" The broom seemed to rock a bit in indecision before it decided that staying on the nice, soft grass was easier than flying.

"I've never heard anything more pathetic in my life, except maybe Malfoy as a ferret." He had a little chuckle before continuing," Be forceful. Merlin knows you can be."

Hermione was torn between proving that she could control the broom and smacking Ron. She decided on the former. Please let this work. "Up," she said clearly and confidently. The broom listened. Slender fingers ending in short, pink nails gripped deep mahogany. Ron smiled proudly and Hermione beamed triumphantly back. "Second time's the charm I guess," she quipped.

"Well I think we can move on. Just swing your leg over."

She complied. As Ron mounted behind her and put his hands on her elbows, a little shiver crawled down her spine. After she recovered, she asked in a quaking voice, "Promise we won't go too high?"

"Yes. I promise." As they kicked up into the air he added in an undertone," though you can never go too high."

The pair wobbled unsteadily about six feet in the air. Hermione had closed her eyes tightly and gripped the broom for dear life. Ron smiled.

He leaned in closer and spoke softly into her ear, "Just think where you want it to go. Forward, backward, wherever and then lean that way."

Her spine shivered a little and she leaned back into him. Way back. Too far back. The broom took off upwards with a start.

Hermione held on for dear life screamed, "I don't like flying!"

Ron countered, "Just lean forward. Calm down and lean forward. NOT THAT FORWARD." The pair hurdled towards the ground, Hermione's shrieks intensifying.

His hands took action, snaked around her middle, and grabbed the smooth oak handle. They pulled it up, just less than horizontal. He circled slowly and gradually to land; Hermione's shallow breaths became regular.

The touched down and Hermione's knees gave. She wobbled a little before the dusk changed to night in front of her eyes. When she collapsed, Ron caught her.

He sank to the ground, her head in his lap. He brushed a lock of hair off her cheek with his thumb. She looked so weak, so helpless. He couldn't help feeling that it was somehow wrong. Hermione who had faced everything he had (with the notable exceptions in second year. The spiders!) and was so full of life was lying here more frail than when she had been petrified. He would have pondered her weakness longer, but her eyes fluttered open.

She looked around for a moment before what had happened dawned on her. She looked up at Ron and smiled faintly. "My hero." Her hand reached up and stroked his cheek.

"So, honestly, how bad was I," She asked still looking up at him. He bent his head down and she met him. Their lips brushed sweetly and then connected, moving in sync. They broke apart. They stared in each other's eyes; Hermione innocently and Ron with a mischievous grin.

"So, honestly, how was I," Hermione asked. Ron blushed awkwardly. "Oh, about the flying I mean."

He leaned down and pecked her lovingly on the cheek, and then said, "Bloody terrible." He laughed.

Hermione laughed a little and playfully punched him, " Well, Ronald, you're no Krum yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean." The hurt showed on his face.

"Nothing. I didn't-"

"I'll never be better than him. Why do you always have to FLAUNT HIM? WHY?"

Ron stood up; Hermione fell from his lap, and he walked away.

When he yelled, that was bad, but when he got quite it was hell. Hermione watched him, several tears flowing down her cheek, but did not follow.

THE END

A/N: Grr... to Jo for making me have to end it like that. Not really. Without her there wouldn't be a this. That's it. The last chapter. I know that I said five, but I felt that it would be too much to split this. In a week or so I'm going to release this as a one-shot and another one which is currently half-written and will be a great one-shot. Expect that in two weeks. I hope liked this and my other stories. If you have anything that you thing should be changed, let me know and it'll (possibly be that way) on the "final." Also check out my profile and if you need story ideas. I'd love some one to use them (I just don't feel that I have the time to do those)