The Edge of Nowhere

Chapter 4: Curiouser and Curiouser

The words "Thank you" had just fallen from the lips of Severus Snape. That was a first in her experience. She had gotten the inkling earlier that this was a different man than the one she had known. Yes, this was a different man indeed. They stood there for a few seconds until the ringing of a phone broke their connection. Hermione's hand automatically went to her pocket. No, it wasn't her mobile's ringtone. She couldn't get a signal earlier. Severus walked to the desk and picked up the receiver. He has a landline?

"Hello? Aye. Straight away."

Severus stepped to the door, threw on a long bush coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck.

"A fisherman's been injured. I need to go."

Hermione wasn't sure what possessed her to say next what she did - other than wanting to see  Doc in action.

"May I accompany you?"

She expected an emphatic 'No' but that didn't come.

"Suit yourself."

Hermione put on the overcoat she had removed when she entered. Outside Severus' cottage conditions had worsened. The sky was darker, the mist heavier and the wind off the sea was much colder than when she had arrived. Had the sun set? Tossing her scarf around her neck she asked,

"What time is it?"

Severus looked at a pocket watch rather than casting the spell.

"Half Five. I usually fly. Fionn's house is just past the village, about a mile or so."

She had assumed he would apparate them to wherever they were going. Brooms were uncomfortable and undignified and never her first choice of transport. Not that Apparition was a great choice either, often leaving an annoying queasiness afterwards. Were the Muggle world and Wizarding world ever to unite, Hermione would champion the floo system as preferred mode of travel across the globe. Dusty but simple.

"Uhm, I didn't bring a broom."

"No matter. Hold on."

With that little bit of notice Severus slipped his arm around Hermione's waist and, pulling her in tightly, took off. She didn't have time to protest. An audible gasp was all she could muster.

Harry had told her of Professor Snape's ability to fly unaided. A feat only Tom Riddle had been thought to accomplish. Strangely, she was not frightened. His slender appearance belied his strength. His arm was securely around her like one of those steel bars across the lap on a rollercoaster. 

As they lifted off the ground Hermione grabbed hold of his cloak. Suddenly she became aware of every cell in her body, every hair standing on end. Such was the sensation of flying unaided. It was...exhilarating. No broom splinters in the crack of her arse nor panties in a wad. Just...freedom. 

Up into the dark skies they rose, nothing but the wind currents beneath their bodies. It was as if they were gliding on a sheet of ice. Air rushed through her nostrils and down her throat, through her lungs and internal organs, down her back and legs, and out through her toes. Her focus so intense that Hermione could visualise every droplet of the Wintry mist coming at her like tiny shards of reflected light. She squinted to avoid them hitting her in the eyes. How fast were they going? She didn't care, it was wonderful. She recalled sticking her head out the open window of the family car. Yes, yes, that's it! The long blades of grass and the rocks and the sheep blurred as they passed below. Even the man holding her close was richly vivid. His long coat fanned out over his back, sleek and smooth like a bird's feathers. He smelled of sandalwood and pipe tobacco and sea spray. He was powerful and brilliant and...exciting. The slightest movement of his body would take them higher or delicately turn them or lower them back to earth. This was the most scintillating experience of her life. Hermione wondered if he would teach her the skill. She wondered if she would have the courage to ask.