Rook sat in the stands, watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team run drills with the speed and precision they had been diligently cultivating all school year. Once they began practicing different plays, Rook quickly became enraptured by each player's ability. Though she didn't know how difficult it was to control a broom in flight, it was obvious that everything the team was doing required sharp reflexes and exceptional hand-eye coordination, at the very least.

At first glance, the twins' primary strategy seemed to be sheer dynamism, but, now that she had a chance to watch them play without all the distractions during their match against Ravenclaw, Rook started noticing subtle differences between Fred and George's gameplay. To her surprise, George had a slightly more aggressive technique than Fred, who seemed to put a greater emphasis on stealth and timing. It was easy to see how their differing tactics served to keep their opponents on their toes, as the other players would never know just what to expect from either of them.

Rook wished she could have stayed wrapped up in her initial excitement, but the longer she watched, the more she found her eyes drawn back to George. Clad in his scarlet Quidditch robes and performing death-defying aerial feats in front of her, George inspired pervasive daydreams in Rook that she tried desperately to dispel, to no avail.

When their practice ended, Rook met Fred and George on the pitch, and the rest of the team made for the changing rooms.

"Fred is letting you borrow his broom."

"You be gentle with her, though," Fred spoke warningly. "If anything happens to Indira, I'll..."

Rook waited for Fred to finish, but he seemed to be at a loss for an appropriate punishment.

"…transfigure me into a turnip?" Rook offered.

"Nah, I'll…" said Fred, "I'll be a bit cross."

"A bit?" asked George.

"All right, I'll be quite cross."

"We wouldn't want that," said Rook, grinning. "I'll treat her with care."

"Worry about yourself first, though," Fred added. "Be careful. It's easy to get carried away the first time, but… but make sure you do everything George tells you, all right?"

"Are you actually worried about me?" Rook asked, nonplussed.

"No," Fred said quickly.

"If you're that concerned, you could join us," said George.

"I said I wasn't worried, didn't I?" said Fred. "I'm going back to the castle." With that, he departed.

"You know he really was concerned, right?" George said once his brother was out of earshot.

"Yeah, it just… I guess it seems out of character for him?"

"Because we joke around when things are tense, so it doesn't usually show," said George. "But he actually worries a lot, especially when it comes to you."

"Why me especially? Because I'm an especially worrisome person?"

"No," said George with a chuckle. "You're important to him. You know that."

Rook paused to reflect on this statement. It wasn't as though this information was a revelation. Fred had done so much for her since she met him and George in September, and he was obviously important to her as well. In spite of this, however, it was hard for Rook to picture Fred as someone who expended much energy fretting over anything, much less her. Though she didn't relish the thought of Fred worrying needlessly for her sake, she couldn't help feeling touched by it.

Rook felt a bit awkward, unsure how to express the feeling, so she simply said, "He doesn't need to worry about me. I've come a long way since I passed out on the Hogwarts Express."

"Yes, and dealing with dementors and learning to fly are essentially the same thing," said George sarcastically. "Only this time, you're going to want to do a little less falling."

"Is that your first tip? 'Don't fall'?"

"Catching on already! I knew you'd be born natural at this."

"Do you have any other pearls of wisdom?"

"Let's start with how to properly grip the handle…"

It wasn't like a cheesy movie with him standing behind her, needlessly close as he physically guided her into the right position. He kept a reasonable distance, demonstrating the grip on the handle of his own broom. It was easy enough for Rook to mimic.

"That's perfect," said George. "Once you get some practice in and you're a bit more comfortable on a broom, you can loosen it up a bit. You won't have to keep your hands like that at all times. But for now, be sure to keep them there; it's a lot safer.

"Now let's try some actual flying. Swing your leg over—good. When you're ready, go ahead and try kicking off the ground, like this…" George used his feet to launch himself into the air, rising up only to fly in a small circle before landing gracefully beside Rook once more.

"A lot of it is intuitive," said George. "There are some hopeless cases here and there, but most people grasp the basics easily enough."

"Now I'll feel really bad if I turn out to be among the hopeless," said Rook uneasily.

"Don't psych yourself out. You'll be fine. Do you want to try now?"

Rook nodded, determination building inside her. Trying not to overthink it, she pushed off the ground gently, as though she were underwater. The sensation of lifting into the air was similar to floating up from the bottom of a pool, but she felt far from weightless. Ascending swiftly against the force of gravity, Rook felt a tingling sensation in her gut, not unlike the feeling of vertigo she felt when swinging too high too fast on the playground.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed as her balanced wavered dangerously. She gripped the broom tighter, willing it back downward, but couldn't seem to stop herself from rising further and further in the air.

"I think that's high enough. You can come back down now," George said, now in the air beside her, matching her elevation as she ascended.

"I can't!" Rook called back. "I can't stop it!"

"Oh… Well, don't panic! If you panic, you lose focus, and you're fine as long as you keep a good grip."

"O-okay," Rook said nervously as she drifted higher and higher.

"All right… Tilt the handle slightly toward the ground while leaning forward a little to add to your momentum."

Rook did as directed, and the broom, instead of commencing a gradual descent, began to plummet swiftly and suddenly toward the ground, causing Rook to cry out in alarm. She pulled up again hurriedly and almost flipped over in the air. George acted quickly, intercepting her path and grabbing hold of her broom handle himself. He managed to steady her somewhat, and together they fell erratically, but at a much slower pace than Rook had been falling. In moments, they landed roughly in the grass, knees buckling beneath them from the force of the landing. They fell in a heap, side-by-side, themselves and the brooms mercifully intact.

"Are you all right?" George asked urgently, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning over Rook. The balls of her feet and her knees felt a bit sore from the landing, and she was sure she had sustained some heavy grass stains, but, other than that, she felt largely unscathed.

"I'm okay," she said, looking up into George's brown eyes. "Are you?"

His relief showed on his face, and he grinned as he answered, "I'm fine!"

Rook suddenly felt very aware of George's body next to hers. She felt heat creeping into her cheeks.

"I-I guess I broke the cardinal rule of flying," she said weakly.

"It's okay to fall sometimes," George said quietly, his expression soft. "Sometimes it can't be helped…"

Rook had the distinct impression that he was no longer talking about flying.

"No, I guess it can't," Rook said. "But I'm not afraid of falling… as long as you're here to catch me."

It seemed to happen both all at once and in slow motion; George leaned over slightly, pressing his lips softly against Rook's. It was as though everything had suddenly fallen silent, except for the sound of her own heart as it beat hard against her chest. Her eyes closed of their own accord, and her lips parted as she kissed him back, an inexpressible feeling coming to life inside her.

Then he pulled away, looking more surprised by what he'd done than Rook was.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said before sitting upright, then getting to his feet.

"What…?"

"I'm sorry, Rook. I'm really sorry."

Rook slowly stood, feeling lightheaded and confused.

"It's not that I don't—" he stopped short. "It's… it's complicated."

"Oh…"

"I forgot how volatile the Cleansweep Fives can be, especially for beginners," said George, his tone conspicuously lighter. "Since it's getting dark anyway, maybe we should stop here for today."

Rook nodded, unwilling to press the subject, even though her insides were twisting and turning inside her. He said he was sorry, and she believed him. Regardless of the reason why, he sounded very sorry indeed. And what about her resolve not to complicate things between her and George? Did it really take only one kiss to break? And why did it feel like it was more than her resolve that had just been broken?

George made a couple of attempts at casual conversation as they walked back, but gave up when Rook proved uncommunicative. She wished that she could bring herself to say something to ease the tension, but she was stuck in her head, wondering what could possibly be going through his. They parted in the Entrance Hall, where Rook opted to go into the Great Hall for dinner while George went back to the Gryffindor common room.

"That didn't take long."

Despite having purposefully sat far from her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, Fred had zeroed in on her and was sliding deftly into the seat beside her without awaiting invitation.

"That means you were either brilliant, or complete rubbish."

Rook sighed heavily.

"That bad, eh?"

"Don't worry. Your broom's fine. George is taking it up to the common room with him now."

"What happened?"

Rook poked at the steamed vegetables on her plate, debating how much she should tell Fred. After all, he was the one who had been hinting at her about George's supposed feelings for her.

"Let's just say you can start calling me 'chicken' instead of 'Rook,' 'cause I'm a flightless coward," she said with a wry smile.

"And I reckon you taste good, too!" said Fred. Rook gave him a questioning look. "What? You're the one who started this whole 'chicken' metaphor!"

"Ha ha," said Rook sarcastically. "The lesson was a disaster. First I couldn't stop going up, then I started free-falling."

"No one's perfect at everything right away," said Fred. "I mean, except for me. I'm perfect at just about everything I do. Is that why you looked so dreary when you came in?"

"That's because…" she started, still unsure of what to say. "It would have been nice to be at least halfway decent at this, seeing as you, George, Angelina and Alicia all have flying in common." It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie, and she did worry that her incompetence in the air might have changed George's opinion of her.

"You probably just need some practice," said Fred. "But even if you're beyond help, it's not that bad. Haven't you ever heard the old saying, 'A flightless rook still has its feathers'?"

"No…"

"That's 'cause I made it up, but it's true just the same. You're our friend, no matter what!" He ruffled Rook's hair playfully.

"Hey, leave my feathers alone," Rook laughed, patting her hair back down.

Fred put both his hands on her head and worked her hair into a tousled heap.

"You're—!" Rook sputtered, pausing to spit hair out of her mouth. "You're evil!"

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think? I'm mildly irksome at worst," said Fred with his most evil smirk.

Fred kept Rook company as she ate. Eventually he commented on George's continued absence. "Isn't he coming back down for dinner?"

"He told me he wasn't hungry," said Rook worriedly, hoping George wasn't not eating on her account.

"I see…"

She knew Fred could tell something was up, but he didn't mention George again. They walked together back to the common room, where Rook wished Fred and George happy birthday once more before hastily excusing herself to the girls' dormitory. Since it was still quite early, she was the only one in the room. She collapsed onto her bed and sighed. Instant and unbidden, the memory of George's kiss occupied the entirety of her thoughts. She rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, perhaps hoping she could block out the memory the same way she blocked sight and sound with the goose down. When she inevitably needed to come up for air, she rolled onto her side and stared out a window at the darkened sky outside.

She didn't want to obsess over it, but she could feel obsession coming on. It felt a little unfair that he should kiss her and then act like it was a terrible mistake without even explaining why. It wouldn't have felt much better if she had initiated the kiss, but it would make things less confusing.

She already knew that there were reasons they might both be better off not taking that particular road together. By now she felt that she had confronted every single one, multiple times. Did he think she couldn't understand why it was a bad idea?

But then, if she understood that much, why was she feeling so wounded? Had some part of her been hoping she and George might be together in spite of every good reason they shouldn't be? Or, worse yet, was Stefan right? Had she always harbored a subconscious preference for George? Stefan was the first person she had ever fallen in love with, but could she have really loved him if she already felt so strongly for another?

Her mind was still reeling when Alicia came in and sprawled across her bed, right beside Rook's.

"So you were up here!" she said, propping herself up on her pillow and looking over at Rook curiously.

"So I was up here…" Rook repeated vaguely. "Up here, I was. Here I was up."

"Something's definitely up, all right," said Alicia, raising her eyebrows. "What is it? Tell me."

"I… I broke up with Stefan a few weeks ago, you know…"

"I know."

"And…"

"And you have a thing about someone else now."

Rook sat upright. "How did you know?" she asked.

"How wouldn't I know?" Alicia said with a laugh. "I mean, you did just have private flying lessons with a boy who happens to be completely mad about you."

"Did he say that?"

"He didn't have to. It's obvious."

Rook's face burned. Fred had said something similar the night of their unsanctioned Hogsmeade excursion. According to Fred, George had feelings for her since the night they first met.

"Don't keep me in suspense!" said Alicia. "Are you two going out?"

"No!" Rook said more fervently than she'd intended. "No, it's just… Is it bad of me to like him like that so soon after Stefan?"

"Are you kidding? A few weeks is ages!"

"Alicia, I'm serious."

"So am I. Come on, Rook, we're sixteen! Do you think the first person you fancy in school is meant to be the love of your life?"

"I guess not…"

"I know you really liked Stefan, Rook, but… Well, to be honest, he's a bit of a sod. Sure, he's good-looking, but good looks only get you so far."

"Alicia, how could you say such a thing?" Rook gasped mockingly. "What if Cedric Diggory heard you?"

"Cedric is much more than a pretty face!" Alicia said with a huff.

"Yes, I seem to recall you commenting on his butt as well."

"I did not!"

The conversation shifted focus to Alicia's various crushes, then they discussed their anxieties over their O.W.L.s and Alicia gave Rook a few flying tips. Thanks to Alicia, Rook's mood was much improved by the time she fell asleep. Her last thought before she drifted off was of how grateful she was for all the wonderful friends she had at Hogwarts.