For brazensers

xvii: Flying Lessons

August 1998

It was the most beautiful day there had been in a long time. The nasty heat wave finally seemed to be behind them, and, surprisingly for British summers, there was no sign of torrential rain as yet. The sun was shining and Hermione could feel a gentle breeze coming in through the open window as she leaned against Ron's legs on the sofa, re-reading Hogwarts: A History for what must have been the hundredth time.

She used to find it a bit disconcerting when Ron watched her reading. The feel of his eyes on her would make her blush, and she'd find it difficult to focus on the words on the page in front of her. She was used to being enveloped into a world of her own when she read, and initially, letting someone else into that world was a strange concept. But he told her a couple of months ago that he'd always loved to watch her reading, so she'd got used to the feeling. In fact, she couldn't recall many other moments in her life when she'd felt so utterly relaxed.

Ron must have noticed her shift in focus, because he spoke. "How many times must you have read that book now?" he demanded. "You must know it off by heart. I still don't understand why you need to read it again."

"I don't know," Hermione said, shaking her head exasperatedly, but she was smiling. Sensitive as Ron had become over the past few months, this was the sort of thing he'd never understand. "It's kind of... soothing. I can't really explain."

"Each to their own, I guess," Ron mumbled.

"You should read it," Hermione recommended as she had many times before. "I know you didn't like history, but it's actually a really interesting read. Bathilda Bagshot is much less dull than Professor Binns."

"I'd rather read Percy's cauldron bottom report than anything that was written by Professor Binns," Ron declared. "Anyone is less dull than him."

Hermione chuckled. She knew that Ron would never read Hogwarts: A History, no matter what she said, but trying to persuade him was quite entertaining. "Seriously, though, Ron, I don't understand why you hated the subject so much. It's all about blood and gore and goblin wars... you're a boy. That should be right up your street."

"Well... I suppose I could give it a go," Ron said doubtfully.

"Ron. It's fine. I'm only teasing," she said, rolling her eyes. "You don't have to read it if you don't want to."

"No. I will," he told her determinedly. "You never know, I might actually enjoy it."

"Okay then. You can have it after I've finished with it, then," Hermione offered. She sincerely doubted that he'd get past the first chapter, but it was sweet that he was making an effort.

She'd just gone back to reading the chapter on the Triwizard Tournament when Ginny popped her head around the door, Harry just behind her.

"Hey. We were thinking about going up to the orchard for a game of Quidditch after lunch - want to come?" Ginny invited.

"Sure!" Ron agreed enthusiastically, and Hermione's heart sank. "See you then."

Hermione noticed that the question was clearly directed at Ron and not her. Not that this was a surprise; Hermione had declined to play Quidditch with the others for the last two summers. But, childish as she felt, she kind of resented having her boyfriend taken away from her for an afternoon without even being invited.

"So, you reckon you will have finished that book by the time we get back?" Ron asked teasingly as Harry and Ginny left the room.

"Who says I'm not coming with you?"

Ron looked slightly taken aback. "Oh… you really want to come? But I thought you hated Quidditch."

"I don't hate Quidditch," Hermione told him indignantly. "I'm not obsessed with it like you, Harry and Ginny are, but I've never hated it."

"So why haven't you played with us for years, then?"

Hermione cringed. It was so stupid. "Honestly? I… I started to realise my feelings for you, and I felt self-conscious playing with you there. I'm useless at Quidditch."

"You're not useless," Ron insisted, but he didn't sound convinced.

"I am," she laughed, "but it's okay. You can be useless at something and still enjoy it. It just made me nervous, because you're so good. I didn't want to make a fool of myself."

"Hey, I'm not that good. Quidditch is easy, anyone can be as good as I am!"

"Rubbish. You may think that, but I think Potions is easy, and I don't think you'd agree with that assessment," Hermione pointed out, laughing. "But anyway, I want to spend time with you. If you like Quidditch so much, there must be something enjoyable about it. I've just never really been comfortable on a broom."

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. "If you want, we could go out there now, and I could give you some tips on flying. Only if you want to," he added hurriedly.

She hesitated for a second; she'd always been touchy about her flying abilities, since it was the only thing (well, other than chess and eating) that Ron was better at than her. But it would absolutely ridiculous not to accept his offer because of pride – she'd given him plenty of help with his schoolwork over the years. "Why not?"

"Are you sure about this, Hermione?" Ron asked ten minutes later, as they rummaged through the pile of decaying broomsticks in the shed, trying to find a decent one.

"Of course I am. You might even have something useful to say, for once," she teased, and he shoved her playfully.

"Shut up, you. How about this one?" he asked, pulling an old broom with Cleansweep inscribed on its side from the pile. "These old things weren't too bad."

"I don't really know the difference, to be honest," Hermione admitted as they stepped out of the shed into the sunshine.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, Cleansweeps are good. The old ones are a bit slow and unresponsive, but they're better than those other ancient old things," he said, gesticulating back into the shed.

"Shall we get this over with, then?" For some reason, Hermione was more nervous than she'd ever been around Ron. But he was her boyfriend – she didn't need to prove anything to him.

"Why not?" asked Ron, and they both mounted their brooms and kicked off from the ground.

Hermione felt the familiar jumpy feeling in her stomach as they rose and the ground got gradually further and further away. The world below her began to swim a little; she could see her arms shaking as she gripped tightly. Breathe, she told herself. Relax. Everything will be fine.

"Try putting your hands a little further up," Ron called from next to her. "It'll make your balance better."

She felt as though she'd go tumbling back down to the ground if she let go, but she managed to slide her hands higher with only the slightest swerve of the broomstick. Ron was right, actually; her weight had shifted slightly, and she suddenly felt a lot more stable.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," Hermione told him gratefully. She felt much more confident than usual; some of the alarming wobbles that she was accustomed to had been eliminated due to her shift in position. She started to breathe easier, and soon felt quite at ease flying laps of the orchard with Ron at her side.

"Try this," Ron instructed, swerving elegantly (yes, he could be elegant) as he reached the end of the field.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You really expect me to do that?"

"Why not?" he demanded. "It's fun!"

She snorted, but attempted a weird kind of loop-the-loop which wasn't at all what Ron had just done. The broom jerked up frighteningly and Ron laughed at the expression on Hermione's face.

Once she'd regained her composure, Hermione reflected. It was actually a rather nice feeling, flying, once you got over the initial instability. The wind rushed through her hair, and as she watched Ron perform more ridiculous-looking tricks, she really felt alive.

A/N: A belated birthday present for brazensers. I hope you enjoyed it and had a lovely birthday, dear!

Also for some other challenges - Key Signature Competition: A major (HPFC), OTP Boot Camp Challenge: playful (HPFC), Happy OTP Challenge (RoseScorpius Fans).