CHAPTER FIVE. The Grounded Flock.
Meanwhile as a 'quiet revolution' went on around them some months had gone by since the young Weasleys had acquired their brood and the ducklings, one male and three females, grew healthily towards adulthood. They became sleek and efficient swimmers and now roamed free in the garden, happily dabbling and foraging much of their own food in the river.
Crookshanks, far from attacking them as Ron had feared had, it appeared, after his 'little chat' with his mistress, decided to 'adopt' them. He proudly watched over his feathered charges, guarding them from any harm he perceived might befall them. Any strange cats, foxes and even on one memorable occasion a stray dog were robustly 'shown off the premises'. All was well with the four young birds except for one thing, they showed no inclination or ability to fly whatsoever and just happily waddled around all day.
Sometimes they even had to be turfed out of the kitchen to stop them stealing Crookshanks' cat biscuits from his dish, which they'd developed a liking for. Behaviour which he magnanimously tolerated as long as they were swiftly topped up again. The ducks had learned by watching Crookshanks how to get in through the cat flap and sneaked in whenever they thought no-one would notice. They slept at night shut up in a duck house Ron had built for them to keep them safe, but they stubbornly showed no inclination whatsoever to take to the wing, apparently not even realising they were birds and possibly even thinking they were Crookshanks' babies.
Hermione was worried at their apparent lack of interest in flight though and one Tuesday evening after dinner said to Ron, "I think we've spoiled our feathered friends, they're too comfy here and should have learned to fly by now. Not that they'll need to migrate like the majority of their fellows do for the winter. They know they won't go hungry here and they will be able to shelter in their duck house in bad weather, but I still think it would be good for them to learn to fly. If for no other reason than to get them fit, they're beginning to look like they're being fattened up for Christmas."
"Now there's an idea," joked Ron, provoking a punch in the arm from Hermione. Actually he was very fond of the little flock. When Hermione was away at work and when he found himself working from home he would often take a break and walk down to the river to feed them.
"What do you suggest then," Ron asked Hermione. "How can we teach 'em to fly?"
Hermione replied, saying, "Well, I've been giving it a bit of thought actually. How about starting off by treating them to a few short broom flights as passengers, so that they get used to being up in the air and see how they react to start with. You could fit a small cage to a broom handle using a temporary sticking charm and carry one or two up at a time for short hops."
"Good idea my clever wife, go on," said Ron.
Hermione continued saying, "Once they get a bit used to the idea you could begin to drop them from gradually increasing heights and speeds, so that they have to learn to flutter down. Starting at first from stationary and just a few feet up and gradually going higher and faster. Eventually they'll hopefully catch on and learn to fly for themselves. I'm sure that'll work."
"Brilliant," Ron said. "So when are we going to get started?"
"What do you mean when are WE going to get started?" Hermione said, visibly blanching. "You're the flying expert in this household, what with being a school Quidditch hero, 'Weasley Is Our King' and all that! As to me I've hardly so much as touched a broomstick since I took my basic flying lessons at Hogwarts. You know I hated it from the off. You remember full well Ron that the last time I flew on anything using magic was ages ago. Even then I was disguised as Harry and wasn't actually on a broom but on a thestral with Kingsley. I kept throwing up through all the violent evasive manoeuvres that we needed to do to escape the Death Eater ambush and I vowed I'd never go flying again on anything other than a nice big, safe, sensible, muggle airliner with proper seats, like we did on our honeymoon flight to Australia. I'm glad to say that I don't even OWN a broomstick!"
Pausing for breath and calming down a bit Hermione then went on more calmly to say, "Honestly Ron, I'm quite happy apparating to get to places I need to go or using the Floo Network. I'll even tolerate using Portkeys at a pinch, though they tend to make me dizzy, but you can stick flippin brooms, they're your department!"
Ron outwardly gave every appearance of agreeing with her outburst, since she was so adamant, but smiled inwardly, keeping a secret thought he'd formulated to himself as they'd talked. He thought, "We'll see my girl, those ducks aren't the only things that are gonna learn to enjoy flying over the next few weeks! Calls herself a witch and can't even ride a broom properly, well that's about to change or my name isn't Ronald Weasley! Let's see if I can outsmart the 'brightest witch of her age' with Operation Witchflight!"