Hermione on Holiday

Chapter 6 Falls, Fibs, and Foul-ups

George Hanover, pulled his mount to a stop, waved his mallet in a mock threat. "I'm going to obliterate you – but in a nice way."

Hermione tried to sneer like Draco Malfoy, but figured she failed miserably. No one could sneer as well. "Think you've got the balls for that?"

George looked startled, then burst out laughing at the pun. "Yes, I do. Here." He tossed a polo ball to the ground, and knocked it toward Hermione.

Hermione soon learnt that this was different from her practice sessions. The ball with the Weasley spell had been predictable, always returning to Hermione when ordered, and at a constant velocity. George, however, was trying to simulate a real game of polo, sending balls in Hermione's general direction, but making them hard to catch. Hermione, though seated on her horse, figuratively had to think on her feet, reacting to challenges quickly.

She remembered the advice that her trainer had given her at the end of the first day.

"You're a very fast learner, Miss Granger. But simply knowing the right movements is not enough. You must be able to do them almost unthinkingly. In the heat of a game, you must be thinking strategy, not 'how do I tell my horse how to get in position?'. You must have such a rapport with the horse that you can direct it with the minimum of signals, leaving your mind and body free to focus on the game. And when you're a team, personal prowess is not the most important thing. Sometimes the wisest thing is to hang back and let a closer teammate take a play, even if looks unheroic."

Hermione had learnt that the previous year: it was the difference between choosing the right defensive spell during a Dumbledore's Army meeting, vs dodging a Death Eater trying to kill her at the Ministry. It was strange to hear the concept used in such a Muggle situation. Some things were basically true, for both Muggles and wizards.

She was startled out of reverie when a swift ball came whizzing toward her.. The ball was approaching more than a yard to her right, and Hermione didn't think she had time to guide her horse to the side. . Instead she shook her left foot free of the stirrup, leaned to the right, and whacked the ball with her mallet. The manoeuvre succeeded, but Hermione realized that she had made a horrible mistake.

She couldn't get her balance back.

Jolted by the horse's motion, she felt herself slipping out of the saddle to her right. If she fell off altogether, with her right foot still in the stirrup, she'd hit the ground and be dragged beside a galloping horse, possibly to her death.

"Help!!"

George Hanover had spotted the problem and was galloping toward her. But she didn't think he'd reach her in time. Scarcely had she completed the thought when she fell off her horse altogether.

Something saved her.

It was several seconds before she could figure it out – but somehow she was floating above the ground and gliding beside the horse. She had the presence of mind to shake her right foot free of the stirrup before trying to think through it. Then she slowed and drifted to the grass. She saw her horse's rump pass by as it continued to gallop without her, and good riddance to it.

George Hanover pulled up his own mount a few yards away. "Bloody hell – what just happened?"

"I-I don't know," stammered Hermione, who was not a good liar.

"Hermione!" came a second voice, as the Weasley twin dashed up, hastily thrusting his wand into his pocket. "Are you all right?"

The Muggle boy, who had now dismounted, turned on the newcomer. "Who are YOU?"

"Ah, my name's George."

"That can't be. MY name's George."

"It's possible for two blokes to have the same name, y'know."

They were all too frazzled to think clearly at the moment. To Hermione, sitting on her bum and trying to calm her nerves, it almost seemed like an allegory: two different Georges, one a Muggle and the other a wizard, battling over her soul like good and evil angels. Except that both Georges were good men.

"Never mind that. Did you just rescue Hermione? And how?"

"Me? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You saw her fall off, but didn't see her float around? Bollocks!"

Hermione, still sitting on the ground and catching her breath, finally understood what had happened. George Weasley had seen the danger and used a spell – probably Wingardium Leviosa – to save her life. But of course he couldn't say so in front of a Muggle.

"The important thing is that I'm okay, isn't it?" insisted Hermione.

"Yes, it's the important thing, but now that it's done, I want to know how it happened! What's your connection with Hermione, anyhow?" he demanded of the twin.

"Er, I…" His face was turning pink and the tip of his ears were already red.

Hermione was sorry for the Weasley twin. He had saved her life, and she wanted to give him a hug and kiss in gratitude, but instead he was being harangued by the Muggle boy. Hermione had never seen either of the twins at such a loss for a response. His priority, of course, had been rescuing her.

"I'm a witch!" she blurted out.

"W-what?" said George Hanover, turning to Hermione in astonishment.

"Hermione, don't—" warned George Weasley, but she was too caught up in her emotions to stop. The strain of having to live a lie, to hold back just when she wanted to let an affectionate relationship build naturally, had snapped.

"I'm a witch. The reason I don't know about computers is that I spend all my school time studying spells. The stick you saw me look for the other day, that was my wand."

"Hermione, you're not talking sense. Did you bang your head when you fell?" asked George Hanover in concern.

"Yes, yes, that's probably it," said the Weasley twin hastily. "We've got to get her somewhere where she can lie down, and maybe see a hea—um, doctor."

George Hanover had a good sense of priorities. The possibility that Hermione was hurt was more important than solving the mystery of the floating girl. "Right. Where'd your horse go, Hermione? Never mind. Get up on my horse and I'll lead you back to the rental office."

It was obvious that the best thing to do at the moment was play along with the mistake. Hermione put her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself up atop George Hanover's mount, trying to look more dizzy than she actually felt.

He led her across the field toward the buildings. Other riders, aware that some accident had taken place but fortunately not knowing the details, stopped to let them by. The Weasley twin, who had started to accompany them, dropped back when the Muggle boy wasn't looking, and disappeared somehow, probably Apparation. A good idea; Hermione needed to thrash things out with George Hanover alone.

Finally they reached the stableyard. George dropped the reins and stood by his horse's side, ready to catch Hermione as she dismounted. She deliberately fell against him and gave him a hug, on the pretext of regaining her balance. No matter how awkward the situation was, it wasn't really his fault. A lovely boy with a healthy sense of curiosity; naturally he wanted to know what happened. Hermione couldn't criticize that trait because she owned it as well.

But she kept her mouth shut as he led his horse into the stable. She still had not thought of a proper explanation. Maybe just continue to feign injury.

Suddenly George stiffened and sank to the ground. At first Hermione feared that he had slipped on some horse droppings, but the stable floor was clean, and he didn't move after hitting the straw.

"George, George! What is it?" She knelt beside him.

"He'll be all right," said a cold voice. "But I'm afraid you're in a lot of trouble. Didn't anybody tell you it's important to keep secrets?"

And she looked up to find three stern Wizard Aurors pointing their wands at her.

TO BE CONTINUED