Disclaimer: I only own the memories.
A/N: And here's the second instalment, real quicklike. Enjoy!
It is just after dusk. The streetlights should be coming on any minute. He is teaching me how to fly on a broomstick again. I am doing well, considering it's been so long. He takes my hand and puts his other one on the small of my back, guiding me as I gingerly mount the broom. He pushes me gently from behind and I rise slowly into the air, him walking beside me all the way.
"Whoa," I say as I wobble a little. His grip on my hand tightens for a second.
"Don't let go, you're fine," he assures me. "Relax a bit. Don't keep your elbows locked." I follow his instructions and actually find it easier to balance. "There you go," he says. "That's better."
I slowly start to loosen my grip on his hand as I gain confidence. He lets go, gives me a barely tangible push with the hand on my back, then lets that one go as well. He is still walking beside me, but I am on my own. I straighten up a bit. I am proud of myself. I lean forward and accelerate the tiniest bit, then resettle my pace. A grin breaks out on my face.
"Good!" he says with enthusiasm. "See? You're getting it!"
I laugh, and spot a largish tree up just ahead. "Uh oh," I say as it nears.
"Don't worry, just lean slightly to go around it—" he starts to say, and I lean and start to turn, but suddenly it's right beside me and the tail twigs of my broom have caught in the low-hanging branches and I'm pitching forward. He springs ahead and catches me as I fall. I'm scared, but I know he won't let me hit the ground. I find myself on my feet. I'm laughing; he is too. I look up at him. He has one hand on my upper arm, and one around my waist. He removes the latter and glances down at it awkwardly. I take it, a thrill slowly building up in the base of my stomach, and turn it over between my own, inspecting for something—I don't know what. Neither of us quite knows what's happening.
The hand on my arm is inching up towards my shoulder. I am acutely aware of every touch; my senses are tingling. I am still staring at his hand in both of mine, running my fingers over his in the scarce space between us. When the other one reaches my collarbone, I glance up at him wonderingly. His dark green eyes are already trained on mine. I feel the beginnings of a blush working its way up into my face, and then his cool fingers brush the side of my neck. My heart is beating so loudly that I am positive that he—and anyone else within fifty kilometres—can hear it. I am suddenly very aware that there is no one else around.
A very light rain begins to fall, just a sprinkling of water from the sky. We don't care a whit. His hand is now slipping into my hair. I turn my face up to his, angling it properly, and experience a very odd light-headedness as he tilts his towards me. My breath catches. His mouth touches mine…I am dizzy even with my eyes closed. My hands come up, hesitantly taking his head between them. He wraps his other arm around my waist again and pulls me closer.
The broom hangs forgotten on a branch a few feet away. I smile into the kiss, eyes still closed, and loop my arms around his neck. The rain is getting a trace heavier; our clothes are starting to absorb the wet. Neither of us cares.
"Harry?"
An all-too-familiar voice calls from an all-too-short distance away. Ron is coming towards us on the grass. Harry and I spring apart like startled deer. Ron approaches.
"Who's that wi—Hermione?"
"Hi, Ron," I say, turning a furious colour of red. Did he see us? Now he is almost level with us by the tree. Harry and I are still standing only a foot apart.
"Were you two just…?" Ron trails off, looking from Harry to me and back again. He and I glance at each other and burst out laughing. "What were you just doing!" Ron asks again. I can't stop giggling; it is the guiltiest sound I have ever heard come out of my own mouth. Ron has stopped walking and is staring at us incredulously. "You weren't…"
Both Harry and I nod sheepishly.
"When did you—!"
We glance at each other. "Sort of…just now," he says after a second or two. I giggle. Ron doesn't look as though he entirely believes us. He shakes his head and waves to us.
"Well, I'll leave you two alone then," he says, sticking out his tongue. I know from his grin that I will never hear the end of this.
When he has gone around the corner out of sight, Harry and I turn to face each other. I can't help it; I start to laugh again. It is infectious. We stand there in the rain for who knows how long, unable to stop. Finally I straighten up. "Well, that was awkward!"
We're gone again.