Chapter 13: Joyride

Ariadne was returning to the castle after a session observing her brood of nifflers for her Care of Magical Creatures homework when she felt a whoosh ruffle her hair, followed by a wild whooping. She looked up in time to see a streak of red and gold, topped with some untidy jet-black hair, race past her toward the Quidditch pitch. It looped back around and James Potter yelled at her, "Oy Morrigan! Come to the Quidditch practice! Priya is looking for you."

Normally, Ariadne would have wondered what would draw Priya to a Gryffindor Quidditch practice in the middle of a chilly autumn evening, but she could figure it out. James was Captain of the Quidditch team, Lupin went to watch the practice, and Priya tagged along, despite having no interest in Quidditch whatsoever.

Ariadne had completed her observations early, so she figured she could spare a few moments to catch up with Priya. Trekking to the Quidditch pitch, she found not only Lupin and Priya sprawled out in what remained of the late afternoon sun, but Sirius too.

Priya jumped up from her comfortable-looking spot across Remus' lap. "Ari! I've been trying to find you. Do you have the book for Vector's class? Can I borrow it?"

"Sure, Priya. Do you happen to have the star chart you borrowed from me last week?"

Priya smacked her forehead. "Ugh, no, I completely forgot it! But I can run back to the castle to get it. It'll only take a minute."

Lupin jumped up. "I'll come with you."

Ariadne settled down in the stands to wait. Sirius caught her eye. "It's going to take them more than a minute, isn't it?" she said.

"Correct, Morrigan," he said, lounging in the grass with his arms behind his head. "You really are a perceptive witch."

"You really are a sarcastic git," she replied.

"Thank you."

"Still not a compliment."

"Still going to take it as one."

They watched in silence as James flailed his arms at the Gryffindor Beaters zooming around the pitch, apparently trying to guide them through some kind of maneuver. He was not successful. One of the Beaters, distracted by the complicated loop he was supposed to be performing, failed to see the Bludger coming right for him and took a direct hit to the head. He managed to stumble to the ground before keeling over. James ran onto the pitch to catch him and Sirius and Ariadne followed to help.

"He needs hospital wing, stat," said Ariadne, frowning and administering a spell to reduce his pain and dizziness.

James helped the dazed Beater up supported him on his shoulders. "I'll take him to ol' Pomfrey. She'll patch him up. Can you guys watch our gear?"

James and the Beater loped off, looking like a clumsy four-legged beast draped in scarlet and gold Quidditch robes.

Ariadne seated herself on the stands again to wait, but Sirius was eyeing James' brand-new Shooting Star 7 with a gleam in his eye. Ariadne recognized that look, and she did not like it.

"What do you say to taking her for a little spin, Morrigan?" he said, indicating the broom, and wearing a mischievous smile.

"Do you have a death wish, Black? Potter loves that broom almost as much as he loves himself. He'd kill us."

"Nah, he wouldn't kill us. Might chase us around the pitch a bit threatening to curse us, but that's nothing new. Besides, he owes me for hooking up with Catherine Whipple."

"I suppose this might not be as evident to you and Potter as it is to me, but women aren't broomsticks."

"When did I say that?"

"You just suggested trading a sexual encounter with a woman for a ride on a broomstick."

"They're not entirely different experiences, to be honest."

Ariadne raised an eyebrow. "So are all women objects to 'take for a spin' and toss aside when you're done, or just the ones you've slept with?"

"You're reading too much into this, Morrigan," Sirius said, now engrossed in examining the Shooting Star's streamlined tail.

"Am I? Only wondering if my Transfiguration partner sees me as at all capable of performing advanced magic, or just good for a shag."

"Well, I obviously don't think of you that way," answered Sirius, looking somewhat taken aback.

"And why not? Am I not a girl, just like Catherine Whipple?"

"Because—well—" Sirius almost looked flustered. "Because you're, you know, decent enough at magic, responsible, clever and all that—"

"But too smart to be hookup material?"

"I didn't say—the two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive—"

Ariadne had to suppress her amusement at watching Sirius cool-as-ice Black stumble over his thoughts like the concussed Beater making his way off the Quidditch pitch. Sirius noticed the smile quivering at the corner of her lips and threw up his hands. "Now you're just taking the piss, Morrigan."

"Not entirely. I'm educating you out of your misogyny."

"All right, point taken. Witches are not broomsticks. You might have to break the news to James, though. I'm not sure he can tell the difference, he likes them both too much."

"I'll work on him later," answered Ariadne.

"Anyway," said Sirius, "do you want to take this beauty on a quick joyride, or not?" He patted the gleaming mahogany handle of the Shooting Star.

Ariadne hesitated. She had heard the Shooting Star 7 rode like a dream, smooth as velvet and easy to fly. It was their very latest and most luxurious model, and of course, the Potters bought it for James as soon as it came out. When would she next get the chance to even touch a broom like that?

"C'mon, Morrigan. I know you're not the type to miss out on a good opportunity when you see one," persuaded Sirius in his low, silky voice, almost…seductively.

"Get on," said Ariadne, walking over and tying up her hair.

"Pardon?"

"You're flying, I'll take shotgun. Get on."