Getting to the quidditch pitch that late past curfew was easier said than done. After asking around the common room, most people had a sure-fire way to get to the kitchens or the astronomy tower, but very few bothered to exit the castle itself, especially in the dead of winter. Luckily, after a bit of cajoling, Rey discovered that Kaydel Ko Konnix had been sneaking out all year to snog her boyfriend in the boathouse after hours. Sure, Rey had to allude to a pretend boyfriend of her own in order to get the information, but she at last had a reliable escape route out of the castle.
Kaydel was easy to convince. After bribing Kaydel by promising to finish her charms essay for her, Rey had finally gotten the information that she needed. At exactly 1:30 in the morning, Rey pulled on one of her oldest hoodies and a thick pair of sweatpants before snagging her quidditch bag and sneaking out of the common room. After ducking out of the way of an on-duty Hufflepuff prefect and slipping past the Hogwarts caretaker, Enric Pryde, Rey finally caught her breath as she rounded the corridor on the first floor and caught sight of the statue of Wilfred the Wistful. Wand extended, Rey tapped his left eye and then his right in quick succession. A loud grinding sound erupted before her, and Rey nearly ducked behind a nearby tapestry in fear that she'd been heard. Dipping downwards, the statue descended into the ground, revealing a cramped passage sloping into the cool stone. Breathing in the stale air, Rey lit her wand and began to walk.
As the air around her grew colder, Rey felt her hands grow jittery, though she wasn't sure if it was from the temperature or from excitement. She would never admit it to Solo, but sneaking out in the middle of the night only made their situation more exciting. She was used to risks; early on in her childhood, she'd often ditch whichever foster-parent of the month she was saddled with in order to sneak into abandoned buildings and explore. After several instances of coming back with her clothing ripped and face covered in dirt, most families sent her on to the next foster-family, eager to be rid of such a street-urchin. Unkar Plutt held onto her a bit longer, using her penchant for exploration in order to scavenge for parts in his scrapyard. Of course, when a rusted nail shoved clear through her foot and ended up mending itself within 24 hours, both she and Plutt had realized that she was far from the average scavenger.
Nearing the end of the tunnel, Rey could see moonlight drifting in through the slats of a rusted gate that almost looked like a sewer drain to the untrained eye. Moving closer and pushing upwards, she could see that the exit had been thoroughly overgrown by the briar patches to the left of the Hogwarts' boathouse. Shifting the gate upwards, Rey cursed as the thorns bit into her skin and snagged her sweatshirt, forming new holes in the already tattered fabric. Forcing her way through the brambles, she finally untangled herself and walked to the quidditch pitch under the light of the moon.
Her synapses were firing in every direction, a nervous yet excited energy that made her limbs twitch and a wobbly grin appear on her face. Why she was actually deigning to meet with Ben Solo for a private practice, she wasn't entirely sure. Of course, she wanted to get better. But couldn't she have just asked Poe to run some extra drills with her? Or had Jess and Snap send a couple extra bludgers her way during practice? What sort of death wish must she have if she was agreeing to meet with a dark wizard in-training who was nearly double her size and three times as threatening? Still, there was a thrill to it, sneaking around in the cool night air and knowing they could both be caught at any moment. At the very least, Ben Solo was the more exciting choice, and Rey had always loved the thrill of danger.
"2:08. You're late, Niima," Ben Solo said as she entered the pitch. The tip of his nose was reddened and his hair wind-tossed in a way that showed he must have started flying without her.
"Sorry, professor," Rey joked, pulling on her quidditch gloves and mounting her broom. "Won't happen again."
"Better not, or I'll transfigure you into a timepiece," Ben muttered. "So, first things first. Observation. 5 laps around the field, 4 dives, 4 corkscrew turns, and end with a double loop so I can see how you handle inversions."
"Yes, captain," Rey said with a roll of her eyes. She grinned as she ascended in the air and felt the wind greet her face. They were relatively easy instructions; she completed them, in her opinion, with flawless accuracy when she landed in front of Ben with a cheeky smile. He chewed his lip, lost in thought.
"Again," he instructed. "Faster, this time."
"As you wish," Rey complied, once again running the drill. She landed, slightly more winded.
"Faster," Ben instructed as she took to the air with a sigh.
"Still too slow. Again."
"Faster, Niima. Pick up the pace"
This continued for nearly a half hour until Rey felt her head spinning from the numerous spirals and loops. A headache was burgeoning behind her eyelids from a combination of the nonstop flying and a growing lack of sleep.
"Are you finally satisfied, or is the goal of this exercise just to turn me into a mindless gollum, following instructions over and over again until my brain breaks down?" Rey bit as her feet finally touched the ground.
"You need a new broom," Ben said as he reached around Rey's back and snapped a twig off it's end.
"Hey!"
"How are you even staying in the air?"
"It's called magic, Solo," Rey said with a roll of her eyes. "My broom's fine. It works."
"It's working against you," Ben clarified with a sigh. "Every time you take a left turn, you nearly lose your balance. When that happens, you grip your legs too tightly and you lose control of your upper-body. No wonder you didn't make first-string. Here. Try my Silencer."
Rey glanced warily at the sleek broomstick that Ben held to her. Even in the dark, Rey could see it was immaculately cared for without a single twig out of place.
"What are you doing?" Ben asked as she failed to move.
"Looking for curses."
"Really, Niima?"
"It's too nice," Rey whispered to herself, delicately taking hold of the handle. "This is the newest model, isn't it? I can't fly this."
Ben looked at her incredulously. "Are you allergic to anything that costs more than 50 galleons? Get on the damn broom and run the drill again."
With a deep breath, Rey swung her leg over the broom and felt her hands fit seamlessly around the grip. It felt like the broom was made for her. Perfect and expensive as hell. Off-handedly, she mused how unfair of an advantage students with money must have if they could afford broomsticks like this to carry them to victory. Shoving the thought to the side and trying to enjoy the damn moment, Rey kicked off the ground.
The air rushed loudly in her ears, her hair flying out of her bun as she hurtled upwards at an alarming pace. Each loop felt so smooth that her body barely registered the switch in perspective. Ben was a blur below her as she raced down the pitch, and she couldn't help but let out a whoop as she took her first dive and pulled up a mere foot from the ground with perfect handling. By the time that Rey returned, her cheeks hurt from a combination of the frigid wind hitting her face as well as the giant grin plastered from ear to ear.
"That was," she huffed as she tried to catch her breath, "absolutely incredible! That's how you feel every time you fly? No wonder you want to go on to play professional!"
"I want to play professionally because I respect myself enough not to half-ass my effort, Niima," Ben clarified. Rey felt the challenge building in her gut, but bit her tongue from the oncoming retort. Not even sourpuss Ben Solo could ruin her high.
"Surprised you even let me try that thing. Silencers don't come cheap, especially a new model." It was as close to a 'thank you' as Ben would recieve.
"Well," Ben said with a shrug. "You seem to know your way around a broomstick."
"Oh, thank Merlin that Rose isn't here to hear that right now," Rey laughed, nervous energy expelling out of her. Ben looked on, confused.
"I wouldn't worry, Niima. I'm sure your friend wouldn't assume that you're cheating on your little boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?"
"You know," Ben offered. "Peanut."
Rey's face flamed. Sure, Finn and her had their fair share of crushes during first year, but it hadn't gone further than a spell of public hand-holding and a few innocent kisses. By this point in their relationship, Finn was more than a brother than a potential romantic prospect. Besides, she couldn't compete with the slew of students currently desperate for Finn's attention. Not that Finn was even aware, of course. According to him, Rose and Janna (and even Poe) were just being friendly. Nevermind that all three of them had requested his presence at romantic walks around the Black Lake at various points within the last four years.
"Finn's a friend," Rey corrected. "I'm actually one of the few people not in love with him."
"Ah. A playboy, huh?"
"Not at all," Rey laughed. "Poor Finn wouldn't know romance if it bit him on the nose. Poor kid has more natural charisma than he knows what to do with. Do you know how many people he's had to dodge under the mistletoe this year? It's like watching him dance around landmines."
"As fascinating as the life and times of underclassmen Gryffindors are," Ben interrupted. "I believe it is past curfew, Ms. Niima." Packing up his broom, Ben returned to the bench and rummaged around inside his school bag. Huffing from the weight, he produced a solid stack of books, all with worn covers and crinkled pages.
"And what's this? A gift for the Chrimbo Hols?" Rey said with a wink.
"Homework," Ben explained as he shoved the stack of books into her arms, and Rey could have sworn she saw the tips of his ears grow pink in the moonlight. "There's a little bit extra in there since we can't meet again until next term. Check the dog-eared pages. Take notes. Write down any questions you have."
"Merry Christmas to you, too, Ben Solo."
o-o-o
"You're secretly dating someone," Rose said conspiratorially as she dragged an armchair close to Rey the next evening in the Gryffindor common room.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I won't tell anyone!" Rose promised. "I heard from Jessica who heard from Kor Sella who heard from Kaydel Ko Konnix that you were sneaking out late for a bit of midnight snogging, you cheeky wench!"
Rey's heart fell to her gut. Oh, no.
"Well, spill!"
"There's nothing to spill," Rey insisted, furtively holding Ben's copy of "A Quidditch Encyclopedia" close to her chest. "I'm not dating anyone! And if I was, I'd tell you!"
"Rey, you know that after four years of friendship I can tell that when you're hiding something," said Rose as she peered closer at Rey's reddening face. "The question is: why? Is he someone we know? Someone embarrassing? That third-year who thinks he can talk to plants? That one Ravenclaw boy who smells suspiciously like fish?"
"You mean, the one who you think is a merman in disguise?"
"There's no proof that he isn't," Rose insisted.
"Rose, Aftab's father teaches transfiguration. He's probably just an animagus or something," Rey argued, the discussion played out so many times already.
"Rey, I promise I will not judge you for dating whoever it is, even if they're a potential sea serpent," Rose pleaded with wide eyes. "I'm good at keeping secrets! You know I'll keep my mouth shut! Okay, I'll probably tell Poe and Finn. But, besides that? Not a soul! Okay, maybe Kaydel, too."
"Can we not talk about this right now? You guys leave for holiday tomorrow. I don't want to waste my time talking about stupid boys," Rey said with a groan. Then, eager for a change in topic: "Tell me, did you like your Christmas gift?"
"You said not to open it until the day of."
"Never stopped you before," Rey teased as she leaned out of her chair and poked her in the ribs. Rose huffed, looking offended by Rey's audacity to assume such accusations.
"I'm impressed at your ability to find a Weird Sisters album that I didn't already own," Rose finally conceded. "The b-sides they included are stellar! Did you even know that they made an acoustic version of 'Niffler's Heart of Gold'? I swear, Rey, you haven't lived!"
"I'm glad you liked it," Rey said with a laugh.
"Hopefully you'll like mine just as much," Rose insisted. "Finn helped me pick it out."
"So I can blame him if I don't like it?"
"You'll like it," Rose insisted. "Let us know what you think after Christmas. And tell me what romantic gift your mysterious secret boyfriend bequeathed upon you. No excuses!"
Rey hummed in agreement and reopened her book. Rose chattered with her for a bit before deciding to grab her own book and join Rey in comfortable silence.
As many times as Rey tried to refocus on the difference between French and Russian broom gripping techniques, her mind refused to cooperate. It had only been three days, and she had already blown her cover. If Rose kept asking questions, rumors would spread throughout Gryffindor tower like fiendfyre. She could only imagine the chewing out she'd get from Zorii about fraternizing with the enemy, and Finn would probably assume she'd been imperiused by some dark wizard.
Or worse, they might all assume that Ben and Rey were doing far more than a bit of platonic fraternizing. Horrified, she pictured what that would be like. Ben Solo waiting on her every word, offering her roses and trying to kiss her under the mistletoe. She almost sputtered at the thought. Ben Solo did not dote, especially on muggle-born Gryffindors with barely two knuts to rub together. She'd settle for quidditch coach and be happy with that.
It would be okay, Rey tried to convince herself. All would be forgotten by the time they returned from break. Most couples barely made it through the holidays. Why should she and her pretend boyfriend be any different? Rose would forget, as would Jessica and Kaydel. She and Ben Solo would just have to be careful from now on.
Flipping to the middle of her book, a page on how to achieve the perfect Meyer's Inverted Pass caught Rey's eye. The paper was filthy and crumpled, as if someone had spilled something on it and had left it out to dry. The pages lay flat as if the book had been left open on that entry for ages in the past, and in the margins, notes were etched in the messy scrawl of a child: how to angle the broom, how to adjust the grip during the pass-off. "Learn for tryouts," the notation instructed with each word underlined. Rey had that sudden image of a small, second-year boy with dark hair and giant ears pouring painstakingly over the textbook, and she could not help the smile that came to her face.
"Thinking of your boyfriend, huh?" Rose asked with a knowing smirk.
Rey could only blush in response.