NightRider

A/N: Yeah, I haven't written anything for H/Hr in forever. And definitely never had it posted on-line. I've had this idea in my head since the end of the 5^th book, I guess I better post it up now before B.P. hits the stores. Please be kind—first ficlet! If there are some imperfections or the like in the story, please inform me! Thank you!

< /Glitch>

~_+~_+~_+~_+~_+~_+~

Harry guided himself slowly through the attic. Here he was, and has been for the past weeks since he came back to Grimmauld Place. The moment Mrs. Weasley had heard of Kreachers actions, she threw him out, uncaring or unaware of where he ventured. This both pleased and angered Harry, who had wanted to face Kreacher personally for weeks on end since summer started. The Order, and Weasley's practically avoided him since his arrival, only speaking in kind, gentle tones if they needed to communicate with him. Harry didn't mind, it allowed him the time to search for his own solace within the old walls.

From there, he finally found the entrance to the attic, and lo and behold, found his place of peace. Harry spent most of his hours there with no one but Buckbeak and the sporadic boggart to keep him company. Slowly going through ancient artifacts of the Black family, ranging from clothing to photo albums, to little baby toys. Taking his time in sorting them, Harry had already cleared, cleaned and organized half the attic.

At the moment, the boggart had gone somewhere else and Buckbeak was a few steps behind Harry. The hippogriff was three times his size and was actually a lot quieter than one would expect, but that still didn't stop him from practically laughing at him as they explored the last area of the attic they hadn't reached yet. The area was small but it was crowded, dirty and filled with new treasures for Harry to uncover. Harry was bumbling around in the dim light of the candle, careful not to set alight any objects at eye level.

“Will you stop that?” Harry whispered. Immediately Buckbeak stared at Harry, offended, but did as he was told.

“Sorry…” Harry told him, keeping in mind the proud nature of Buckbeak's kind. Buckbeak nodded quite dignified with such little moving room. Turning back to the front Harry continued on only to fall over and throw his candle up over-head, which Buckbeak jumped to catch, only to fall back onto the floor with a heavy thud and began crowing manically. Panicked, Harry, still spread out over the box to fall him, motioned Buckbeak to stop screeching. The creature did as it was told, although quite comically.

Harry didn't want anyone to recognize Buckbeak and come to investigate. Harry didn't want anyone else to come and help him clear the attic. This was his special place. He could think with that special solitude where you knew no one could disturb. He could spend time learning things about Sirius that no one else knew.

When no one apparently was going to investigate the noise, Harry stood, as did Buckbeak, candle still lit in his beak.

“Can I get that back?” Harry whispered holding out his hand. Buckbeak's head tilted forward and dropped the candle into Harry's hand. “Thank you.”

The creature bowed again.

Turning back to what Harry had laid out upon, Harry cocked a brow.

“An invisibility cloak?” He mused. The box, he now noticed, was half visible and the rumpled, visible portion of the cloak had a protruding silver—

“What is that?” Harry questioned, and without further thought, ripped the cloak off the box…

Only to see there was more hidden under the cloak than he expected. With a loud thump, he fell back, Buckbeak crowing noisily behind him for throwing dirt up.

“Sh… uh… Sh Buckbeak…” Harry muttered as he half-heartedly waved to the hippogriff behind him forgetting how easily offended they could get. Buckbeak however seemed to have grown understanding of the wizards around him because he only shook his head in irritation and walked back to the clearing they had made and the bed Harry set for him.

Harry gaped. He knew it hadn't been a dream since his acceptance into Hogwarts but now there it was, sitting before him.

A black motorcycle sat in front of him, gleaming in the dark. Unlike most of the things Harry found in the attic, it still looked new and incredibly useable. The handlebars and exhaust pipes that swooped around the bottom of the entire contraption were gleaming chrome while the rest was an extravagant glimmer of black. The seat was leather, and even that seemed to shine. The wheels, it appeared were still full of air, possibly due to some enchantment.

Harry walked up to it, hesitant to touch it.

The bike from his dreams, even to this day would emerge once in a blue moon through his heavy nightmares. The one he dreamt of riding to the Dursley's that one night with an inexplicable pain in his forehead. What was it doing here? Unless…

It belonged to Sirius…

Harry slapped his forehead unconsciously. It made perfect sense! Sirius was—is his Godfather! He was the kind of person to own such a bike! Of course he would have dropped Harry off! He had been on the run then, doing as Dumbledore most likely instructed. The bike belonged to Sirius, Harry concluded with a grin.

The bike could fly…

Harry hadn't flown since the last time during Umbridges reign. His Firebolt was still in her office and none of the teachers or Dumbledore had managed to return it as of yet. He had received a letter from McGonagall stating they were inspecting the broom in case Umbridge had any ideas for him. It seemed to be Umbridges type of thing so Harry let them do what they would to his broom, knowing fully well it was the second time the Firebolt was being stripped and searched. But here he was, with a bike that could fly. The legendary bike from his dreams! The legendary bike from his dreams that belonged to Sirius!

Harry never felt himself so giddy.

In a few moments he had rolled the bike out into the clearing besides Buckbeak who seemed just as surprised as Harry had been.

“Look Buck! This belonged to Sirius… Do you think he would mind if I had a go?” He asked. Buckbeak gave Harry a patronizing glare as he walked over and dragged Harry by the sleeve to the small missing planks in the roof that Harry had covered with tarp. Sunlight was still blaring through and immediately Harry understood.

“Oh… I suppose it is too early to fly it…” He reasoned, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and whoever from The Order was downstairs would surely notice a flying motorbike.

“Tonight then,” He concluded. “I'll fly it tonight.”

Buckbeak squawked and tapped his heavy talons on the old, wooden floor. Two floors below, Harry could hear Molly Weasley and her daughter arguing about what was for dinner that night. Their voices suddenly called another fact to his attention.

“How am I going to bring this down without anyone noticing?”

He didn't want the Weasley's, The Order, or Hermione to find out about it. The bike was for Harry and him alone. He found it hadn't he? It belonged to his Godfather didn't it? Why should he want to share it? Why should he share it?

He knew quite well that he was being possessive, but frankly he didn't give a beaters bludger what anyone thought. It hadn't been fair, he only knew his Godfather for 3 years and like that he was taken away, and apparently everything in this house, the memories and the bike was all he had left of the man. It seemed to be poetic justice for him to be able to keep the bike to himself.

“Harry!” Ginny called, shaking Harry out of his reverie. Quickly, he began to panic. Buckbeak, apparently much more level headed than Harry, had already pulled up the trap door heading into his room and jumped down. Following the hippogriffs example, Harry quickly jumped down, yanking the trap door closed along the way.

“Harry?” Ginny called as she entered the room just as Harry landed on the bed. The two stared at one another for a moment before Ginny asked suspiciously, “Were you… jumping on the bed just now?”

Harry stared at Buckbeak who hid his face with his paw as if to say to keep him out of it.

“Er… yeah…” He answered. He and Ginny was caught in an awkward silence before Ginny nodded.

“O…kay…” She stated before closing the door slightly. “Mum says dinners almost ready. You might want to come down…”

“Alright Ginny, thanks…” said Harry as he gave a cheerful wave. Ginny stood in the doorway staring suspiciously at him for a few more seconds before shutting the door behind her. Harry waited until her footsteps died away before collapsing on the broken hippogriffs bed.

“That… was close…” He stated. Buckbeak squawked. Upstairs, the boggart was back and was throwing photo albums to the floor.

+~_+~_+~_

Harry ducked the his head from the flying roast duck that was quacking and flapping around as if it hadn't been stuffed, braised and sitting in the oven for the past few hours.

“FRED! GEORGE! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT PLAYING WITH THE FOOD?” Mrs. Weasley shrieked, causing the rafters overhead to rattle slightly and the portraits in the other rooms to scream. Tonk pushed away from the table and casually announced she'd take care of it. Everyone else was either trying to catch the living-dead duck or watching. Harry was one of those watching, his head resting in a hand with an amused smirk on his face. Of course, his mind also seemed to be focused on another magical flying something; specifically on a black motorcycle two floors overhead…

He was brought back to reality when the duck flew directly between his eyes and pushed him and his chair down to the floor.

“Very good Harry! You got it!” Lupin panted. He had been running about the kitchen waving his wand in vain trying to stop the roast. Harry, sitting in his chair, held the duck back as it struggled fiercely to fly back up. So fiercely in fact, Harry was being pulled upwards slightly.

“George and Frederick Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley stated. Fred and George hid their amused grins as they bowed their heads to please their mother. Fred waved his wand and muttered a few words and Harry suddenly fell back into his chair, knocking his shoulder blades against the headrest of it, as the duck landed square in his chest.

“Here…” Harry groaned as he raised the duck up. Lupin took it and unceremoniously dropped it back into it's original platter.

“There we go!” Lupin smiled as he helped pick up Harry and his chair. “Now that we've worked up an appetite…”

“Quite right Reamus, quite right,” Mrs. Weasley stated as she stood between the twins and clutched a shoulder of each. “Except these two, who'll go without dinner tonight!”

“But Mum! We haven't eaten yet!” Fred exclaimed.

“Yeah! We've been at the shop all day! Ask Ron, he was the only bludger eating there!” George added.

“Was not!” Ron stated. Harry snorted into his pumpkin juice, recalling quite well how Ron had walked in a few minutes ago holding a bag filled with boxes of half eaten candy from Honeydukes.

“Look who I found outside!” Tonks called as she walked in guiding Hermione by the shoulder.

“Hermione!” The twins turned to exclaimed as they escaped their mothers grip. George guided Hermione towards the table to sit by Harry as Fred took her bag.

“I'll take this to your room Mione!” George grinned politely.

“You look tense Mione, mind if I rub your shoulders a bit?” Fred asked as he kneaded the girls shoulders before her consent. Hermione raised a brow knowingly and leaned towards Harry.

“Did they cause the toilet to come alive and vomit again?” She asked. Harry shook his head.

“Nah, we brought dinner to life,” Fred answered with a smile.

“Well Hermione, you arrived at the right time!” Mrs. Weasley sang, obviously forgetting her earlier punishment as she sat besides her husband who had been in a heavy dispute about muggle glass eyes with Moody who was obviously growing impatient with him and dinner. “We're having roast duck tonight!”

“Quite fresh really,” Ron stated as he leant back into his chair. Fred and George and gone back to their seats and were now glaring daggers at their brother. “Seemed like only a few minutes ago it was flying about, making noise…”

_+~

After dinner Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny and the twins were wasting the evening away in the drawing room doing nothing interesting in particular. Hermione was reading as Ron and Ginny had a go of Wizards Chess. Fred and George were testing out their newest appearance spells on a mouse they had caught earlier. At the moment the mouse had an odd blue and purple pattern as its fur color. Harry was sitting besides Hermione on the couch The Order had conjured, dreaming.

“Harry are you alright?” Hermione whispered to him. She had her book up and was leaning towards him slightly as to not draw attention.

“Of course… `Mione',” Harry added. Hermione gave him a knowing look as she raised a brow.

“Are you sure? You've been… distant all through dinner. Now you're doing it here so I was just curious…” She told him. Harry waved her off.

“I'm fine,” Harry assured her quickly. Hermione nodded.

“But you know you can tell me right? If anything's bothering you?” She asked him just as quickly. Harry groaned in good nature and dropped his head between his knees before sucking in a breath and sitting up. Folding his hands and dropping them into his lap, he rested his head on her shoulder and jutted out his bottom lip.

“Mione…” He whined, causing her shoulder to shake with laughter as she shook her head in disbelief. Her bushy brown hair tickled Harry's ear. “Stop worrying…I'm okay…” He continued in the same whiny-babyish tone.

“Okay, Harry I believe you,” Hermione laughed as she playfully patted his head. Her features then became solemn as she turned to look down at him. “I just can't help but worry about you sometimes. You get so lost in your own world sometimes it's like you don't see us anymore…”

“Aw, Mione, I didn't know you cared,” Harry joked. Hermione slapped her paperback book on his thigh as she gave a lady-like snort.

“Of course I care! You're my—“

“You're what?” Harry found himself asking as he raised his head to look at her. He found himself incredibly curious to see what she thought of him. Hermione smiled as she pressed her forehead against his.

“My best friend,” She answered with a grin before sitting back, bringing her legs up and returning to her book. Harry somehow felt disappointed.

“Oh…” He replied as he sat back staring blankly.

“What in bloody blazes are you two doing?” Fred asked as he dangled the mouse by its tail. It was now glowing like a neon sign changing from a neon pink to yellow, to green, to blue and back to pink.

“Nothing,” Hermione answered as she peeked over the top of her book, an unusually playful smile perking on her lips.

“Liars,” Ginny grinned. “You both are dating behind our backs aren't you?”

“Ginny!” Hermione flushed. Harry, who had been accused of this many a time for the past two years and should have been used to it by now, did also.

“So it's true?” Ron asked amazed as he threw a pawn at Harry who caught it by instinct. “I thought we were best friends you bloody idiot? Why didn't you tell me the two of you managed to get together?”

“We're not! We're just playing around!” Harry replied, throwing the pawn back to hit Ron on the head.

“Ow! Mate that hurt!” He exclaimed.

“We're simply platonic,” Hermione stated. Harry nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Exactly. Platonic,” He repeated with less fervor as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“I don't know… You two seem a bit more… flirty, with one another lately…” Ginny stated crucially as she observed the two with narrow eyes. If Harry hadn't known there really was nothing going on between him and Hermione, he'd be nervous with the way the girl was glaring at him.

“I never did like the word platonic,” George stated as he stared at his brother before he and Fred shook their heads and turned to Hermione and Harry. “Sounds like one of those muggle inventions that explode. Not a really good omen word if you ask me.”

“Hey Hermione! I've known you for the same amount of time as Harry has! How come you don't act that way with me?” Ron asked curiously before the mouse that was now as red as the Weasley's hair hit him.

“Because you're a git with women,” George answered holding up a finger as he stood.

“You have no tact,” Fred added, holding up a finger of his own.

“You're testosterone is bad,” Ginny stated as she waved a captured night at Ron.

“So you should feel bad,” All three Weasley's stated. Harry had to cover his grin but that still didn't hide his snorts of laughter. Hermione had given up reading altogether and was now laughing into her hands.

“You all are a bunch of backstabbing platonic buggers, that's what you all are,” Ron sighed as he dropped his head on the chessboard, the mouse, disguised in his hair suddenly emerged and chased the running chess pieces. The king, unfortunately, stumbled and fell causing Ginny to grin.

“I win by forfeit,” She stated. Ron stared at his befallen king and groaned deeper.

-->

A/N: Hey thanks for the reviews, I'd like to thank Lady Starlight for setting me straight! ^_^ And yes, Ron flooed himself to Honeydukes =P Sorry I didn't specify that. And I have no idea where the comment about a lady-like snort came from. I assume from one of the books I've been reading to pass the time…

And Kreacher isn't gone… I'm not done with the twit yet… (Evil grin but will repress from saying more)

Okay, okay, on with the story, thanks for the reviews and I hope to see more for this chapter! ^_^

< /Glitch>

_+~

Harry sat up in bed. Ron's snoring seemed to grow more and more intense before it was evident he wasn't going to be waking in another eight hours with nothing more but panicked cries of tap-dancing spiders in the middle of the night. Of course Harry knew he never truly woke from those nightmares so he decided it was all right to abandon his friend. That was, after all, his plan…

Stepping into his shoes, Harry wondered out, not bothering about waking Ron. Not only was the carpet of Grimmauld place soft enough that if you stomped around you're entire foot could disappear with out a single sound of impact, but Ron was known only to wake at the scent of food or if someone physically disturbed him. Even then, he wasn't entirely awake.

Walking into Buckbeak's room, he found the creature had already been trying to enter the attic. Bowing to the hippogriff, he waited till Buckbeak bowed back before climbing up and opening the trap door. Pulling himself out, Buckbeak followed. Harry sat there on the floor stroking the large creatures head for a moment as he stared at the bike.

His bike.

Quickly he jumped on. The chrome was cool to the touch and the leather seat was comfortable. This, Harry thought with a smirk, was riding in style. The seat didn't ride anything up and there was enough room to lie comfortably on the bike. Directing it didn't seem at all difficult; the handlebars were less than an arm span away, and low enough for Harry to swing his legs up and rest them there.

The only problem, Harry saw, was how to turn it on with the least noise possible. The house itself made enough noise, of course, but Harry'd be mad to think it could produce that convincing of a motor engine impression.

I want to fly this! But I don't want to get caught! Harry thought as he rubbed his temples with the palm of his hands. Throwing them up in frustration he growled and carelessly hit the ignition key. When he realized this, he clenched his eyes as if to avoid the growling of the engine.

No noise…

Harry unclenched his eyes to observe the bike. The ignition was on, but there was no noise—hardly anyway. The engine beneath him purred as the exhaust puffed slowly like a heavily breathing sleeper. It was when he realized he could see just over Buckbeak's head that he came to realize the bike was on and hovering.

“Yes!” He shouted out, pumping his hands in the air. Suddenly realizing what he had done, he crouched low on the bike afraid someone would come up. Buckbeak stared out into the darkness, his bright eyes alert, and even the ghoul seemed to undergo silence to see if anyone would arrive.

Don't get caught, don't get caught, don't get caught…His mind screamed.

No one did and Harry nervously grinned. Praying to Merlin no one would find him, he revved the engine quietly, and shot through the large hole in the roof, carrying the tarp with him. Ripping it away, Harry fought the dramatic urge to scream at the top of his lungs into the crescent moon. He'd have preferred it to be full, but then that would most likely mean Lupin would be out and Harry'd be caught.

Taking both handlebars into his grip he revved the engine eagerly and shot through the air. As he suspected directing and riding on the bike was similar to a broom yet comfortable with the seat and footrests and easily reachable handle bars.

Faster! Harry's mind urged as he revved the engine and the bike charged forward faster than any of the latest brooms in the wizarding world. Giving a low, quiet whoop, he dove into the backyard, his mind clearing away like an invisible exhaust as he tried to pull the bike up.

But it wouldn't budge and for a split second Harry panicked that the font wheel would total itself into the ground. In the same second the bike rose it's nose so high it threw Harry off and was ready to flip onto him.

“NO!” He yelped and held his hands out in front of him and in mid-air the bike stopped and hung. Wide-eyed, Harry quickly crawled out from under it, his eyes darting from the bike to the houses around him. The ghoul was pounding things around the attic again and the slight scratching of talons were emitting from Buckbeak's room. The neighboring muggle homes were still and dark.

The bike hovered a foot off the ground tilted at an angle where the seat was at an 85 degree angle from the dead lawn below it. Taking the handlebars, Harry gently guided it back down to the ground with incredible ease to mount it once more.

“I have to learn how to use you…” He told it. The bike revved in response. “Maybe another night though. I better get back in before someone catches me.”

Grabbing hold of the handles the bike automatically levitated slowly back into the house through the hole in the roof. Once inside, Harry re-covered the exit and shielded the bike under its invisibility cloak, leaving only the foot pedal visible, just as he found it that morning. Hopping back into Buckbeak's room, Harry gave the large hippogriff a gentle stroke before going back to his own room.

_+~

For the next few weeks at Grimmauld Place, Harry found himself incredibly preoccupied. Ron would go with the twins to help out at the shop and earn a few galleons as he has been since the summer started. Harry would be left alone to stay home and head off to the attic, but with Hermione around he found himself more preoccupied downstairs with her doing random activities and chores. In Harry's mind it seemed she was determined to not leave him alone.

Usually Harry, Ginny, Hermione and every so often a member from The Order, would be outside in the backyard that, to Harry's joy, was enchanted to appear empty and uneventful to the muggle eye. Using it to their advantage, the household was usually found outside flying about on their broomsticks. Harry's Firebolt had yet be returned so he contented himself with helping Hermione grow accustomed to heights and flying, much to her distaste in the beginning.

“Hermione! You're going to have to try,” Harry stated on the eve of her lessons. “You're a witch Hermione! It's expected that you should at least be able to fly on your own—we had lessons in 1^st year remember? They wouldn't bother to teach us if they didn't think we'd need it…”

“No Harry! I don't want to!” Hermione spat trailing Harry and Ron into her bedroom.

“Hermione you're doing it whether you like it or not! What if you need to fly somewhere while Ron and I are busy? You know with our lifestyles, that's more than likely to happen,” Harry asked standing over Hermione with a look of determination in his eyes.

“Then I'll get Ginny to do it! Or I'll find a spell that will help—You know I will Harry!” Hermione answered as she plopped herself down on her bed and crossed her arms indignantly.

“Boy I'd say… Isn't a book or a spell `our `Mione' hasn't gotten her hands on,” Ron muttered from the doorway, imitating and quoting Hagrid with a grin. Harry had shot him a glare before pacing the room. Finally a small grin had graced his face as he stood before Hermione and got down on his hands and knees.

“Hermione… Please… I… am begging you…” He stated as he began to bow his head. “Begging, on my hands and knees, Hermione! I am begging, on my hands and knees! Please let us teach you to fly…” He insisted as he looked up at her. He held his body crouched low on the floor until the moldy rug was tickling his chin. He did his best to cause his eyes to glisten, which had been easy as he repressed the laughter growing in his chest from Ron's indignant yells about begging and Hermione's wide-eyed surprise.G

Hermione, although quite insistent Harry cheated, soon started her lessons. When the trio told the family about it, Ginny was first to make a comment.

“Both of you never fight,” The little redhead had stated as-a-matter-of-factly as she reached over to the mash potatoes. “You two fighting is like challenging your muggle-reflection to a duel.”

“Slightly disturbing?” Fred asked with a grin as George nodded enthusiastically, causing a few chuckles from everyone around the table to arise and a disapproving look from Mrs. Weasley.

“Well that's one…” Ginny smiled. Hermione had glared at her with her cheeks glowing for a moment before she continued. “But I was going more towards the fact that it's useless but we do it just for the hell of it.”

“So you're saying our fights are not only odd, but are nothing more than objects to pass the time away?” Harry asked enjoying the flustered look on Hermione's face as she shot him mixed looks of disapproval and amusement.

“Yes, basically,” Ginny replied. Harry and her shared a look to emphasis the statement before Harry grinned.

“Alright then,” He agreed and popped a piece of his bread roll into his mouth.

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked, her face flushed, and the entire table had erupted in laughter.

Since then, about 2 weeks ago, slowly Hermione had grown more and more bold with the aspect of flying on her own by the end of the summer. If that wasn't enough to keep Harry active, there were always his nighttime activities with the bike. He'd come to learn the bike was connected to himself in such a way that he would only have to think and the bike would perform exactly as he wanted.

“Harry! Look!” Ginny shouted a few stories above him. At the moment Harry was sitting on the lawn, somewhat bored as he awaited Hermione to come outside. Glancing up to see Ginny pointing, he noticed her finger guiding his eyes towards someone darting through the air. It was Hermione. And she was screaming.

“Hermione!” Harry panicked, jumping to his feet. Hermione's broom was going at an extraordinary speed for a Big Dipper, a broom older than half The Order members were.

“Harry!” Hermione screamed into the wind as she suddenly dove.

“NO! HERMIONE!” Harry shouted as he dashed to the area she was to crash only to skid to a halt when he saw her pull the broom up far enough to level with the ground. Slowing the broom down, she rode circles around Harry before stopping in midair, with her legs dangling on either side of the broom. Her hair was wind-blown and her cheeks stung red, but her eyes shone with happiness and her lips were set, outlining the giggles that escaped her throat.

“Not bad, eh Harry?” She asked, grinning like mad. Harry stared wide-eyed at her as his brain processed the fact that she had not just crashed but apparently mastered the art of flying—and exceedingly well for someone who not only was 2 weeks into her lessons, but incredibly afraid of heights. His knees were suddenly weak and his head was spinning. He had never felt so lightheaded since that one incident in the Ministry…

~_+~_+

“Harry? Harry! Merlin, oh Harry are you all right? Harry answer me!” Hermione begged. When Harry opened his eyes, he was greeted with a hysterical Hermione sitting besides him and Ginny's faint outline high overhead. The broomstick was left unattended a few meters from his feet.

“Harry!” She shrieked as she yanked Harry up to hug him tight.

“Hermione! You- you were just- I thought you were- What-!” Harry rambled before yanking himself out of Hermione's vice-like grip. His face was set into such a tight frown Hermione's relief was quickly wiped away.

“What do you think you were doing screaming like that? You scared me to pieces! I thought you lost control of you're broom! Do you know you could have really gotten hurt flying that fast?” Harry reprimanded as he took a hold of Hermione's arms and stood. Hermione did also as he continued. “Do you know you could have killed yourself with a dive like that?”

“Harry! I— “ Hermione replied, shock and a hint of fear shone in her eyes. “I can- can fly now,” She finished weakly.

“I thought you were going to die with that dive,” Harry stated, his frown slowly receding as his breaths became deeper and Hermione's eyes shone brighter. “I thought you'd have gotten hurt…”

“Harry, I- I didn't mean to- to scare you I—I just thought I'd surprise you… I'm sorry! You have the right to be angry! I-I'd have probably done the same thing- I…” Hermione babbled unsurely like a small child. Harry suddenly felt guilty. He had just yelled at his best friend, who had just wanted to surprise him with something they've been working on for the past few weeks. He felt as if he'd just reached a new low. Shamefully, he looked to his feet and began apologizing.

“I—Hermione… I'm sorry. I didn't- I—I'm sorry…” He told her.

“Harry—“ Hermione squeaked but he interrupted.

“No! I'm serious Hermione! You should have seen—well of course you probably did see but—Hermione you wouldn't believe what went through my mind when I saw you dive like that.” Harry rambled; he suddenly pulled Hermione into a tender hug. She stiffened in surprise but slowly returned it before they pulled away and he gripped her shoulders comfortingly. He stared at her broom with a small almost smug, smile. “That was one hell of a surprise though Hermione. I think I nearly wet myself with that one!”

At this Hermione burst into laughter, slowly followed by Harry.

“Well I had some great teachers,” Hermione replied. Harry smug smile turned into a grin as he collapsed to the grass, lightheaded. Hermione followed suit. A thoughtful look slowly formed on her face as she too stared at her broom.

”You must have been really worried, weren't you Harry?” Hermione asked. Harry seemed taken aback.

“Of course I was worried,” Harry, stated, surprised she would even question it. “My passing out didn't do it for you?”

“No! I was—I'm just—Actually having someone pass out for my sake that isn't my mum or dad is quite flattering—but in any case I…” Harry sat stunned as he realized Hermione was flustered and blushing. For a moment, he realized that this wasn't the same girl he'd met on the train 6 years ago. She was without a doubt; one of the most intriguing women he'd (and probably will) ever had the pleasure of meeting. Without thinking he put and hand over her mouth, silencing her immediately.

“Stop. Thinking.” He instructed. “Just—just for a second…”

She did as she was told, and there they were. Sitting on the dead lawn, Harry with a hand over Hermione's mouth. They studied the others face, coyly avoiding the others eyes. Slowly, Harry pulled his hand away, grazing his thumb over her bottom lip. It was delicately soft and Harry momentarily wondered what it'd be like to kiss them…

“Are you sure platonic is all you two are?” A voice asked, breaking the two out of the world they suddenly created. There, all resident Weasley's (including Bill, who had the day off) and Order members (basically just Tonks and Lupin) stood, knowing smiles on their faces.

“Of course,” Hermione stated quickly. Getting up, she brushed off the dead grass from her jeans and picked up her broom. “Right Harry?”

Harry stared at the spot she had been sitting. His mind reeling and his face was flushed. He had panicked when she seemed to be on the brink of danger, and had passed out in relief when she was apparently safe. He had yelled and scared her for doing so the instant he came to, and had momentarily been on the brink of kissing her…

“Harry?” Hermione called, looking down at him with worry creasing her brow.

“What?” He replied, looking up at her. When it seemed apparent she wanted him to say something, he added, “Oh, yeah. Yeah. Platonic…”

He got up and walked through the clearing everyone made for him and entered the house.

The two didn't have another flying lesson for the rest of their stay there.

_+~_+~_+~

A/N: I'm sorry but this reads off so bad IMHO!! >_0;; lol, aw well… so sorry! Tell me what you think!

Okay..

Peace

< /Glitch>

-->