The Confectionary Chronicles || HP/SPN

Sweets and Studies- Ch15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

At three-thirty in the afternoon, Hermione and Millie met Neville, Harry and Ron on the front steps of the school, waiting to make their way down to the lawn where their first flying lesson was to take place. While Harry and Ron looked a mix of nervous and excited, Neville's shoulders were hunched forwards and his face was ashen.

"You look like you're about to hurl," Millie said bluntly and Neville's shoulders hunched forwards even further.

"I've never flown a broom before," he said miserably. "Gran never let me near one."

"I'm sure lots of people haven't flown a broom before," Hermione said encouragingly. "I haven't.

"Me either," Harry added.

"Or me," was Millie's contribution. "You're not the only beginner, Neville."

"And it's not as scary as it looks," Ron promised. "You can fly as slow and as close to the ground as you want."

Neville gave them all a shaky smile, looking slightly less like he wanted to be sick. "Thanks." He said, and his voice sounded a smidge less wobbly.

Madam Hooch, a fierce-looking witch with short, gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk, was waiting impatiently for them all by twenty brooms lined up on the ground. "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked as they arrived. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!"

Feeling her hands almost tremble with excitement, Hermione hurried over to the closest broomstick, flanked on either side by Millie and Neville. Draco Malfoy swaggered past them, a sneer on his pale, pointed face, and Hermione's mood dipped slightly as he purposefully collided into Neville, causing her friend to stumble.

"Enough messing around!" Madam Hooch shouted before she could even take a step in the blond's direction. "Everyone, stick your right hand out over the broom and say UP!"

Lips pressed together, Hermione turned her attention back to the lesson– for now. 

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Hermione's broom gave a happy little hop up into her hand, shivering under her touch. She stroked the glossy, slightly knobbly wood with wide eyes, able to feel the complexity of the enchantments woven into the broom under her touch and the magic teased at her fingertips, clinging and tugging at her own magic.

She was so enraptured, she didn't even notice they were supposed to be mounting their brooms until Madam Hooch cleared her throat and she jerked her head up, blushing as she realised the flying instructor was standing right before her. "Sorry!" she squeaked, able to see that around her, her fellow students were already sitting on their broomsticks. Madam Hooch just looked amused, thankfully, and showed Hermione how to sit on the broom without sliding off the end.

"Relax, Neville," she heard Millie say, and glanced over to see that Neville had turned the colour of porridge as he clung onto his broomstick. "Remember what Weasley said."

"He did say you could call him Ron," Hermione reminded her– Ron had been so impressed by one of the goals Millie had kicked the previous Sunday, he'd promptly invited her to call him by his first name– even if it wasn't Quidditch, sport really was the way to a boy's heart, she'd teased Millie, which had made the other girl hit her and go bright red.

"But if I do, it sounds like I'm getting chummy with the Gryffindors," Millie complained.

"Because you are getting chummy with the Gryffindors," Hermione pointed out, amused, and Millie pulled a face.

"Don't remind me," she said, with a slight shudder. "Not you, Nev," she added, glancing back over at Neville, "you're bearable."

Hermione playfully gasped. "Oh my! Bearable? That's about the highest compliment one can get from our Millicent Bulstrode! Be still my beating heart!" she said, lifting a hand from the broom handle to fan herself. A few of the other students were looking at her oddly, but Neville at least was smiling slightly and a bit of pink had returned to his cheeks, so the theatrics had been worth it.