Disclaimer – Everything you recognise belongs to JKR. All the rest is simply me playing in her sandbox.

-oOoOo-

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

Chapter 19

"Whoever set this ruddy bird on me is gonna get it!" an enraged Ron Weasley bellowed as he came shooting down the steps from the dormitories, a large screech owl flapping closely behind him.

Harry froze in the entryway to Gryffindor common room, staring at the scene in front of him. As soon as Ron hit the bottom step, he veered left and took off at a run around the room, dodging chairs, tables and people, his arms waving madly behind him. The screech owl, though, was not going to be put off that easily. Its hoots of indignation punctuated each flap of its wings against Ron's head as it berated the boy for failing to take the letter that it had to deliver.

Every Gryffindor in the room was in stitches. Fred and George were actually rolling across the carpet in laughter at their unfortunate brother. As Ron's hysterics increased, more and more Gryffindors appeared from the stairwells only to start laughing themselves. Hermione, Neville, Lavender and Pavarti were all holding each other up where they sat together on the big chair in front of the fire.

As Ron passed him, Harry noticed a number of red lines down Ron's cheeks and neck where the owl had scratched him in its effort to force the boy to stop running away. One pocket looked to have been ripped during the last circuit and now, held out in front of him by both hands, was Scabbers the rat.

Scabbers' high-pitched screeches pierced even through Ron's roars at the owl and his yelps of pain. The rat's struggles, whether from Ron squeezing too hard or the threat of the flying predator, were eventually too much for Ron to handle and the rat dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

At once, the screech owl changed direction, talons outstretched as it swooped towards the floor. Seeing this, Ron dove full length, sliding along the floor after his pet as it made a mad dash for the safety of underneath the nearest couch. The owl wasn't able to change direction fast enough and landed square on Ron's rear, eliciting an even louder howl, especially when Ron's head shot up and collided spectacularly with the underside of the nearby side table.

But even that wasn't enough to deter the determined Ron. Snatching his rat out from his hiding place, Ron regained his feet and took off once more around the room, the owl following on behind.

On Ron's next pass, Harry frowned, recognising the envelope attached to the owl's leg. It was the one that he'd tied to the screech owl up in the owlery not long before. Sighing, he stepped forward into Ron's path and held up his arm.

Immediately, the owl veered from the distraught red-head and landed with an indignant squawk on his arm. Raising his other hand, Harry gently rubbed the owl's back in an effort to calm the poor bird down.

"You! Are you responsible for … that?" Ron screeched, rounding on Harry.

"Um, yeah, I think so," he replied sheepishly.

But Ron blatantly ignored any semblance of remorse in Harry's voice and started bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"What's the big idea, eh? Settin' a ruddy bird on me and Scabbers! What've I ever done to you? Did Hermione put you up to this? I've tried being nice, but she's just mental, you know? You had no cause to set that owl on me! Look at these scratches! And it ruined my potions homework! Completely tore it to pieces when I refused to take the letter it was trying to force on me!"

Harry's mouth open and closed, intent of trying to apologise or at least to try to offer some kind of explanation, but Ron never let him get a word in edgewise.

"If that was some kind of prank, then it was a bloody stupid one. Just … just stay the hell away from me, Potter! I don't know why you've got it in for me and I really don't care. Just stay away from me!"

And before Harry could respond, Ron stormed off and up the stairs.

The instant that he was gone, wild applause broke out, increased all the more when two red-heads rushed across and fell at Harry's feet.

"That has to be …" one said as he bowed low, his hands reaching out to touch Harry's feet.

"One of the best …" his brother continued as he took his turn at bowing.

"Pranks we've ever seen …" The first twin was back up only to begin bowing again the second he finished speaking.

"Definitely worthy of master status …"

"We bow to you …"

"Oh, mighty prankster …"

"Please teach us your trick …"

"Of getting the post owls to do your bidding," they finally finished together, their hands clasped together, puppy-dog eyes blinking pathetically up at Harry.

"Uh, guys, I wasn't trying …" Harry began.

"Did you hear that, George, a masterful prank and he wasn't even trying?" Fred intoned.

"Just think what he'd be capable of if he was trying," George continued, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

"No, I mean that I don't know why this owl attacked Ron like that," Harry tried.

"Of course, Harry," George said, tapping the side of his nose shrewdly.

"We understand completely," Fred agreed.

Harry shook his head, intent on ignoring the twins as he awkwardly untied the letter from the owl's leg. As soon as it was free, the owl took off for the nearest window. Just as he'd suspected, Harry saw the name Peter Pettigrew on the front of the envelope. Obviously, he'd got a bird-brained owl that didn't know how to deliver a letter properly.

"Harry, you didn't set that owl on Ron because of me, did you?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowed at him.

"Of course not, Hermione! I wouldn't do that," Harry protested.

The look that she gave him clearly said that she didn't believe it. But then, he could see why she wouldn't. Over the months, Harry'd had more than one instance of telling the red-head off for continuing to put Hermione down or for mocking the way that she acted in class or for simply constantly calling her 'mental'.

"We'll let you keep your secret this time, Harry," Fred stated.

"But next time, we fully expect to be a part of your marvellous pranks," George continued.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again, knowing that he wouldn't be believed.

Taking his arm, Hermione led him across the common room towards the couches around the fireplace. Around him, he noted the giggles and smirks that still pervaded the Gryffindors. They'd all obviously enjoyed the evening's entertainment and considered that he was solely responsible.

"You're sweet, Harry, but you really shouldn't let Ron's behaviour get to you," Hermione was saying as she sat the two of them down. "However, as long as you promise not to do anything like that again, I have a proposition for you. And this is definitely not a reward for what just happened."

Harry nodded. He hadn't done anything deliberately in the first place making it a very easy promise to agree to.

"Our bet, if you remember," Hermione continued, "was for you to beat me in a test in every subject. We both know that there's no way that Professor Snape is ever going to give you a good mark in Potions. And Potions is the last subject that you need to win that bet. But as a reward for all of the hard work and improvement that you've been doing, I'm willing to concede defeat."

Harry stared at her. "You'd do that? You'd let me teach you how to fly a broom?"

Hermione looked down at her lap and nodded. "But only if you still want to, Harry."

"Of course I do, Hermione! How's Saturday afternoon after Quidditch practise sound?"

-oOoOo-

Hermione hunched over her book where she sat half-way up the stands that surrounded the quidditch pitch. Her eyes were directed downwards, but there was no way that she'd be able to tell what the book was about. She hadn't focussed on a single word since she'd opened the cover. At regular intervals, her fingers would turn a page, but that was purely an automatic reaction.

The sharp snap of a cloak being whipped her snapped her head up. A madly grinning Harry hovered on his broom in front of her. His hair, while always untameable, was even messier than usual from the way that the wind had swept it every which way about his head. Both cheeks had a pinkish tinge to them from the cold air a hundred feet up where he'd been training.

"Alright, Hermione?" he asked.

"What? Oh, of course, Harry," she replied, feeling flustered at his unexpected appearance.

"I'll just go down and change and then we can get started," he told her.

At her nod, he leant forward and his broom took off. She watched as he made an insanely tight curve before rocketing across the pitch towards the dressing rooms.

Hermione panicked. She could feel her breath coming faster and faster, even as her heart pounded in her chest. Absently, she wiped the excess sweat that had just appeared on her palms off on her robes. She knew that she must be mad. Why else would she voluntarily get on a broom again? She hated heights and her last lesson with Madam Hooch had been a complete disaster.

She'd only managed to stay on her broom by wrapping both legs and hands around the shaft in a death grip. Somehow, she'd managed to get the broom up in the air far enough to satisfy Madam Hooch before she ever so slowly brought it straight back down again. It'd then taken the combined efforts of Lavender, Lil and Susan to get her to let go so that she could fall the last two feet to the ground in an undignified mess.

After reliving that most terrible of days for the sixth time in a row, Harry once again startled her back into the here and now.

"Are you ready, Hermione? Everyone else has gone. We've got the pitch to ourselves," he told her with a grin.

Hermione stared at the insane boy in front of her. He had two brooms over his shoulder – his own Nimbus Two Thousand and one of the school brooms. Something, probably her ridiculous need to be the best at everything, forced her feet up under her. She could feel her traitorous mouth smiling away, giving the false impression that she was looking forward to the coming insanity.

As Harry led her down the steps and then across to the centre of the pitch, she knew that he was babbling away, probably offering helpful hints and instructions, but it was all just too much for her to take in. Besides, she'd suffered through Madam Hooch's lessons, plus all of the reading that she'd done before both that lesson and this one. She knew the theory inside and out.

"I was thinking," Harry's voice suddenly cut across her terror, "that instead of me making you try to fly a broom all by yourself today, that we might start off with something a bit different."

Hermione latched on to this idea with her whole being. Whatever Harry had planned had just gained her whole support. Inside she was cheering and dancing and applauding the marvel that was her friend. And then he had to ruin it all by continuing to talk.

"So, to start with, I'll do the flying for the both of us and you can sit on the broom behind me and just get the feel of what it's like," Harry beamed at her. "And then we can see how we go from there."

Hermione stared at him, her mouth opening and closing until one thought finally made it out. "But I've seen the way you fly, Harry. I don't think I could do that."

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione," Harry laughed, "we're not going to be chasing a snitch! All I was thinking of was simply flying up nice and slow and then perhaps doing a couple of laps and then coming back down again."

"Okay, I think that'd be okay," she managed.

With a grin at her, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and mounted his broom. "Well, come on, climb on behind me."

The second that she was seated, Hermione's arms snaked around Harry's waist and she latched on with all of her strength. Instantly, Harry stiffened, a small gasp escaping him.

Letting go, she leant back, "Sorry, sorry, was I holding too tight?"

"No, no, it wasn't that, it was … nothing, Hermione, don't worry about it," Harry replied before taking a deep breath. "It's okay, Hermione, I know you don't like heights and are just feeling scared. If it helps, you hold on as tight as you like."

"Thanks, Harry," she said, glad that his back was to her so that he couldn't see her blushing.

Once more she wrapped her arms around him.

"Okay, on the count of three, I'll push us off. One … two … three."

Hermione's eyes snapped shut the instant her feet left the ground. She could feel herself wobbling about for balance and the minute changes to Harry's body as he guided the broom along. The wind flew past, gently at first, but then a little harder as they increased speed. A small squeak of alarm escaped her as she felt the broom tilt away to her left.

"Open your eyes, Hermione," Harry laughed, "that way when we change direction you won't get startled."

Swallowing hard, she obeyed.

The ground had fallen away far below until they were level with the top of the stands. Currently, Harry had then flying along at a little more walking pace, a speed that Hermione was more than happy with. She stared around her, taking it all in and this time when Harry curved them around in line with the stadium, she found that she could cope without squealing in his ear.

Her heart began pounding once more as she unexpectedly felt the broom rise. Her mouth opened to berate Harry and order him to take them back down when her eyes caught sight of the forest beyond the pitch. It was absolutely stunning. All of the different greens and browns stretching out before them was breathtaking. And then they turned slightly, allowing the lowering sun to glint off of the Black Lake beside the forest in a mesmerising display that made Hermione instantly squeeze Harry tighter.

"Oh, Harry, that's absolutely gorgeous! And this is what you get to see every time you're up here? Thank you, thank you so much for sharing this with me!"

"No problem, Hermione. Just wait until you're be up here on your own broom," he replied.

She gulped, refusing to let her mind wander to that mythical time ahead, in favour of simply enjoying the view before her now.