Abundant Skies
Chapter Eight: Feet High Off the Ground
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hermione woke up, her eyes heavy, but the slumber she had been in would not return, she was sure. It was always like this. She would wake up, still be awfully tired, but not tired enough to go to sleep again, apparently. She rolled over to her side, and sighed. She could hear the rustling and footsteps thudding on the carpet; her fellow Gryffindor girls running to the bathroom, then back again to get their hair and make-up fixed. She was late, obviously, but she didn't mind. Today was the weekend. Nothing was going on, except that flying deal she made with Ron and Harry. She groaned, as she sat up.
She had forgotten about it for the past week. If she had just bloody remembered, she could've scheduled to do something for a Professor, or delayed doing one of her assignments so she didn't have to go outside and watch them fly. She figured it was just a waste of time, anyway, although watching Harry.. She didn't really mind. But now it was truly bugging her; what about her little `tactic' or `plan'? She sighed, as she collapsed back on the bed. What was she going to do? It was obvious her lame little plan had failed. But she didn't have any other back up plans; she couldn't think of any.
"What am I going to do?" She groaned, covering her face with her hands.
"About what?" She heard someone ask. She peeped through her fingers, and saw Lavender staring down at her, brushing her hair. Hermione sighed, as she lowered her hands.
"Ron made me promise to go with him and Harry while they fly. For three weekends."
Lavender smiled. "Well, at least you've got something to do."
"Except I don't want to do it."
"I'd say you're lucky."
"Why? I hate flying. I only go out there and watch. Do you have any idea how boring that is?"
"Oh come on, Hermione," Lavender said. "Get up, and take a shower. You have to get ready for your little flying lesson with Harry."
Hermione gaped at her. "Who told you about that?"
Lavender grinned. "Just get up, and get ready. Come on, come on." Hermione scowled at her, as she got up, and headed into the bathroom, grumbling.
Hermione dressed in a simple T-shirt, and trousers, as she combed her hair, after performing a simple drying spell. She still didn't know what to do. So, her plan failed. It was no use any more. She still loved him. What was she going to do?
She sighed, as Lavender almost dragged her out of the dormitories for breakfast. Hermione was left alone, as they walked through the corridor. She thought about last night, with Harry. The way he had asked her to stay. And the thoughts that had been running through her mind when she said yes. Nothing had happened of course, they had just talked. Friend to friend. Though it wasn't like old times. The old times were carefree, no major feelings really attached to their conversations. But she remembered she couldn't help but look away every time he looked up at her again. His green gaze saw right through her, piercing through her shield. Maybe he knew too much. He was worried about her; she could see it in his eyes. He hadn't believed her. She hated it that he saw through her lies, as if she was so transparent. She would never lie to Harry, unless it was important. But this was important. She couldn't tell him the truth. That she adored him with every fiber of her being. He would hate her, be disgusted.
That's just the way it was.
Keeping it to yourself was always the best solution. Because it would go away. It would vanish, and when you look back on it, you would just laugh and remember how stupid you were. It wasn't the real thing. Not with Harry. It couldn't be.
She remembered she could feel her hands get sweaty, her throat getting dry. Her stomach kept doing constant flips, her heart beating fast. She remembered wishing she hadn't said yes. Wishing she was tucked in her bed, thinking about Harry. She felt nervous, and uneasy, not knowing what to say. What could you say to the person you've loved for years? Could she have told him how much it hurt to be there with him, in the room? Could she have told him how much she adored him?
Could she have told him she loved him?
Even if she could've, she wouldn't be able to. Too many things held her back. She was chained to an indestructible wall, unbreakable shackles on her. No matter how hard she would try to break free, she couldn't. And every time she tried, she just got weaker, even more tired and fragile. She wanted to tell him, but didn't want to at the same time. Maybe she was thinking too much, just analyzing everything too much. Why couldn't she be one of those girls who just did something without even thinking about it? Why couldn't she be spontaneous and unpredictable? She sighed. Those girls often ended up in jail, or dead. Whichever one fitted their situation better.
She entered the Great Hall, hearing the clinks and clanks of silver ware, laughter and conversations; happiness. She took a seat next to Ron, silent. She felt as if she didn't belong. She looked around and saw everyone seemed to be happy, to be having a good time. Well, why wouldn't they be? It's the weekend. To her, it made no difference, weekend or not. In fact, she preferred having classes. Maybe because she enjoyed learning, maybe because she enjoyed being assigned more homework. Or also maybe because it distracted her. From her life, her feelings, Harry. Maybe she liked being absorbed in what the teacher was saying because for once, she wasn't where she didn't want to be. She was.. Nowhere. Where Harry didn't exist, her love for him vanished and forgotten. No one there to interrogate her about why she was avoiding him, why she did that and this. Maybe for that whole period, she was safe. She was gone. She was as far as she could be from Hogwarts. She needed that.
She needed her assignments, loads of work. To get soaked in, to make her disappear. Or rather, make everything else disappear. She didn't love Harry there. She didn't feel for him, she didn't know him. She didn't know herself. It was just a secret window to escape through.
People wonder why she liked classes and homework so much, she knew. She'd never tell them. They could just assume; she didn't care. Why even bother if she knew they wouldn't even understand? Or even take the time to? They probably had the perfect life. Or even almost perfect. And somewhere deep inside, she envied them. They were probably carefree, feeling just the mutual feelings they should be feeling for friends. But, of course, Hermione was an outsider. Why? She was odd. And odd-looking, plain. She enjoyed reading, actually studied weeks before a test.
Oh yeah, and in love with Harry Potter. Her best friend.
She was pretty sure she would never get to tell him. How much he meant to her, how he made her feel. But maybe it was just better that way. She would just forget all about it, and it would just turn out to be puppy love, and not the real thing. Yeah. It was never the real thing. She was just overwhelmed, not feeling anything like it before. It was intense, deep, strong.. Controlling. She didn't know what to make of it.
"Hermione?" Hermione's train of thought was broken, and everything around her became visible and audible again. She could hear the laughter, the loud conversations, silver ware..
"Hermione?" She turned to Ron, who had been calling her.
"Yeah?" She said, her head feeling a bit dizzy from the sudden volume of the noise.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"I'm fine," she said, her eyes finally focusing on her red haired friend.
"You're coming with me and Harry today, don't forget that," he told her. She sighed, looking back her plate. Empty. Oh well. She wasn't hungry anyway.
"Are you sure you're okay? You should eat something."
"I'm not hungry," she said, and just poured herself from pumpkin juice.
"Girls," Ron muttered under his breath, turning back to Harry and Dean.
Harry's gaze stayed on Hermione. `Look at her,' he told himself. `Talk to her, say something.' But what? Last night had been fun, but she was so tight lipped, so tense even if she had tried to make it seem like she was comfortable. It was awkward, silence in the air. Even as though he had just appreciated the night, just being there with her, without her running off with a lame excuse, he knew there was more. This wasn't Hermione. She was hiding something. Something that made her so tense, so odd. He wanted to know what it was; was it making her sad? Depressed? He wanted to help her. Needed to help her. But she wouldn't tell him, so obviously she didn't want him to know.
And now, as he watched her get a far away look in her eyes again, he felt the need to just grab her by the shoulders and shake the truth out of her. All his frustration built up inside him, the hours of trying to figure out what it was he had done to make her act this way. He had apologized. But for what? She still hadn't told him what it was that had been bothering her. She had just cleared him of any faults. But that wasn't enough. It wasn't even close. He wanted to know the truth, wanted the worry and fear to subside in him. She couldn't keep it bottled up inside her forever. She needed to tell someone. What could it possibly be? Could she be hurting? Could she be hurting herself? Harry just couldn't take it.
He wanted to know she was fine. He wanted her to tell him that everything was okay, without dishonesty and doubt clouding her eyes. He wanted her to laugh again, her deep brown eyes sparkling. He wanted to see her smile, truly smile. He wanted to know that she wasn't breaking inside, folding, crumbling. He wanted to hear the truth, wanted to see the heavy burden be lifted off her. He wanted to know she was okay.
That she was doing just fine.
But it was killing him, her lies. Denying everything. He just wanted to know the bloody truth! What could it possibly be that she couldn't tell him, or Ron? What could it be?!
He didn't like seeing her like this. Dead, still-like. Lost. Gone. She didn't know what she was doing to him. She was torturing him. Being so dishonest, so fake. Maybe she didn't trust him. Maybe she just didn't want to hurt him.
Well, she already was.
Harry felt someone nudge him, as he tore his gaze away from the oblivious girl, slowly.
"Are you ready?" Ron asked. Harry sighed, as he nodded.
"I'll go get the brooms, and I'll meet you there," Ron said, smiling, as he got up and walked out of the Great Hall. Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. He turned, and saw that Hermione was already out of her seat. She was smiling at him.
"Ready?" He asked her, and she nodded. He joined her as they walked out.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hermione could feel the butterflies erupt in her stomach, walking next to Harry. It was silent, their footsteps echoing off the walls. Silence. It was deafening.
"Why are you so scared of flying, Hermione?" Harry suddenly asked, his voice quiet.
Hermione sighed. "I don't know. How are fears made, anyway?"
"Facing it is the first step to conquering it."
"I don't think I can," she said, softly.
"You can. You've got to try."
"Maybe, trying isn't good enough."
"That's bollocks." Hermione smiled, as she sighed again. There was silence again, but Harry spoke.
"Ron's going to make you, you know," he said.
"What?"
"Make you take me up on my offer," he grinned. "I thought I'd just let you know."
"He can't do that," she said. "It's my right to decide whether I want to be high up scared out of my wits, in mid air."
"Have you forgotten how he is?"
"You guys want to kill me, I'm sure," she grinned.
"That's not true," he smiled. She looked up at him, and felt a warmth spread through her heart, tapping into her blood stream, spreading, and growing. Her skin tingled, her nerves buzzing and active. She felt her heart beating hard, rapidly.
His deep emerald eyes glittered, as they stepped out into the bright sunshine. She felt as if the sun had just melted the frozen over remains of her heart. She smiled, widely, as Ron came into view. It was the first time in weeks that she had smiled that way.
Ron handed Harry his broom, as he grinned at Hermione. He had been spending some time to try and convince her to try to fly. He wasn't having much success.
"Hermione.. You know you want to try flying. Come on, it'll be fun," he said to her.
"No thank you, Ron," she said.
"Stop being so stubborn."
"I don't want to."
"You're being a coward, you chicken." Hermione sighed.
"So what if I'm afraid? You can't make me."
"Who says?"
"Ronald Weasley," she said in a warning tone.
"Hermione.. How are you going to ever know if you don't like it if you don't try it?"
"Easy. I just know."
"Oh you're being a hard headed prick, Hermione. Just do it."
"No."
"Go or I will extend our deal for another month."
"You wouldn't dare."
"I would too."
"You couldn't force me to come out here."
"I could drag you."
"You could not."
"I could too. Just do it, Hermione! Stop arguing with me!"
"I told you I don't want to, and I'm not going to!"
Ron sighed, getting frustrated. He turned to Harry.
"Tell her she has to, Harry."
"You've got to, Hermione," Harry grinned. Hermione gaped at the both of them.
"See Hermione? It's two against one. Its doesn't take a genius to figure out we've won."
"I'm not going to."
"Fine. One month. Out here."
"That IS NOT FAIR AND YOU KNOW IT, RON."
"Life's not fair, Hermione." Hermione sighed, looking around. The skies were clear, with white, wispy clouds. She imagined herself out there. On nothing but a stupid broomstick. She felt a cold shiver trace up her spine. Fear. She couldn't do it. She couldn't be off the ground. She'd faint. She was sure. She imagined looking down, the ground so far.. Imagined herself falling, feeling the air rushing in her ears, combing through her tresses rapidly. Imagined the ground coming up to meet her..
The sickening thud of a body on the ground. Broken neck, broken limbs, fractured lungs.. Perhaps dead. Cold, lifeless.
She let out a ragged sigh, her hands and face feeling cold. She looked at them, her eyes glimmering as if she was about to cry.
"I can't, " she said, almost inaudibly. Ron sighed. She turned to walk towards the seats, but Harry ran after her and grabbed her arm. She turned around, his green gaze piercing through her.
"You can," he said to her. "Come on," he said, as he entwined his fingers with hers, and led her to the middle of the quidditch field. Hermione stared at his fingers, his hand holding hers tightly. She could feel the sudden coldness pressing on her skin suddenly become scolding hot. His fingers burned her skin, her heart beating so quickly. Suddenly he let go, and she was cold again. The chilly air taunted her, as she looked up towards the sky. It was so far. So endless.
Could she bear to be up there? Even if she was with Harry? Would he let her fall? Would he catch her? She felt as if she was going to be sick.
Harry perched on the broom, waiting for her.
"Come on, Hermione," he said. "It's not scary at all. Just get on, and you'll see." Hermione stared at him, then at the broom, then at the ground. She swallowed hard, as she came closer. `Well, this is it,' she thought to herself. `Here goes nothing.'
She swung her leg to the other side, sitting behind Harry. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, his warm body pressing against hers. Her heart was beating so hard, so loud. Because she was just about going to go about fifty feet in the sky. And because here she was, holding the boy she loved. It would've been great, if they didn't have to go fly up in midair.
Harry smiled, as he felt her warm arms wrap around him, squeezing tightly. He could almost feel her trembling. He could feel his heart pounding inside his chest, being so close against her. Her soft, heated body was pressed up against him, making him feel awfully warm. He felt as if a warm, glowing white light had filled him, spreading everywhere. His skin suddenly tingled, from such close contact from her. But somehow, he wished, they could stay this way.. He sighed.
"Ready?" He asked her, softly. Hermione swallowed hard, as she nodded. She held on tightly.
"Promise me you won't let me fall, Harry," she whispered to him, her soft breaths making his neck tingle. "Promise me you'll catch me if I do." He could hear fear in her voice, as he smiled and gripped the handle.
"I won't let anything happen to you, Hermione," he whispered back to her. "I promise."
Slowly, he kicked off the ground, and Hermione could feel the firm ground becoming farther and farther away. Her feet felt so odd dangling in the air. She didn't know how far they were, for she had closed her eyes tightly, feeling as if she was going to die of a heart attack any minute now.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On the green, hard ground, Ron stared up at them, smiling wildly.
"Harry, well you got your wish, didn't you? You sly dog, you." He chuckled, as he turned and left, figuring Harry wanted some alone time with the girl of his dreams.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Hermione, open your eyes," Harry said to her. Hermione opened her eyes, slowly, and felt her breath cease in her throat. It was beautiful.
The endless blue sky, the sun peaking out from the unknown. It was breathtaking.
She gasped. "Oh, Harry," she said, looking and marveling at the sight. Harry smiled; as he felt her hands around him loosen.
"It's beautiful," she said, softly.
"Yeah, it is," he agreed. Although he knew it wasn't nearly as beautiful as her. He wondered what she would do if he told her that. Would she be pleased? Shocked? Disgusted?
Suddenly, Hermione looked down, and she felt everything rush back to her. She was fifty feet off the ground, maybe more. She tightened her arms around Harry, and closed her eyes again. She swallowed, trying to stop her heart from beating so fast.
Although, she didn't know if it was beating that way because she was scared out of her wits, or because she was holding Harry. And the fact that he felt so warm, and smelled so nice.. Like fresh rain.
"I'm going to die," she said.
Harry chuckled, lightly. "I should've told you not to look down. Sorry."
"What's done is done, Harry," she said, trying to calm herself down. But her nerves were frantic, electricity crackling through her veins, from her compressed contact with him. She let out a ragged sigh.
"Still scared?" Harry asked.
"Terrified." He smiled, feeling the butterflies in his stomach go into hyper speed. Her hands felt so warm around him, and he couldn't say he minded being so pressed up against her..
He closed his eyes, trying to rid of his thoughts. `She's your friend,' he told himself. `That's all she'll ever be.' He felt a slight weight place upon his heart. He sighed. Friends. Right. Just friends.
"We're going back down," he told her, and she nodded. She opened her eyes, slowly, as she felt them slowly lowering.
She sighed, as she felt the soles of her feet once again come back into contact with the solid ground. She felt so relieved. She was back. She noticed she was still holding him tightly, so she unwrapped her arms around him. She got off the broom, watching him. She had never wanted to let go. Harry got off of the broom, and picked it up with his hand, clutching it like a staff. He smiled at her, his green eyes twinkling brightly. She could help but smile back.
"Well, that wasn't so bad, wasn't it?" He said, as they started walking.
"I guess not. But I'm still never going to do that again," she chuckled lightly.
Harry laughed lightly. "I guess I understand. It takes a bit of getting used to. But I like going up there, sometimes, and just watch the sunset, to clear my mind."
Hermione smiled. But then she remembered Ron.
"Where's Ron?"
Harry was silent, but couldn't help grinning wildly, realizing what his friend had done for him. "I guess he had to run off somewhere," he said.
Hermione nodded. Deep inside, she was shouting thank you's to Ron. She was glad he left, as mean as that was. She just got the feeling Harry wouldn't have acted the same if Ron had been watching. Not to leave out that it would be awkward.
She smiled, faintly, as they entered the corridors. She felt the warmth trying to fight the coldness that had been plastered on her skin from the chilly breeze. She snuck a glance at Harry, and caught his gaze.
He smiled at her, remembering how and why he had fallen for her in the first place.
Because she was Hermione Granger.
And because there couldn't be anyone else better or more perfect, in his eyes.