Flying lessons
“I don’t really see what you’re so worried about, Draco. You’re nothing like you were in third year.”
“Of course I’m concerned! I was mauled, scarred for life, emotionally and physically.”
Hermione took in the uncharacteristic crack in his voice and smirked knowingly. “I won’t doubt you were emotionally wounded, but mauled? Please.” She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively at him. “Pomfrey had that scratch healed within the day and you being the prat coward you were milked sympathies of every drop possible.”
He drew to his full height in offense. “I was thirteen, Granger, and that overgrown chicken was legitimately terrifying—”
She cut him off with a hiss and a smack of her hand over his mouth. The hippogriff standing behind her stomped its front claws menacingly, bright eyes glinting and beak swiping from side to side.
“You bloody idiot, I thought Slytherins had better instincts for self-preservation. If you remember the past so well, then demonstrate better manners!” Despite her annoyance, Hermione glowed in the crisp air with her pink cheeks and loose curls.
The wrinkle in Draco’s brow relaxed and he brought his hands up to gently grip her arms and pull them down. “You’re right. Though I still don’t see why I can’t just follow you on my broom.”
Hermione leaned up onto her toes to rub her nose against his. Hints of jasmine and pear drifted over him as her hair rustled in the breeze.
“Because where would the fun be in that? You’re already great on a broom. Why not let me give you flying lessons, hippogriff style?” As she settled back down on her heels, he chased her with his mouth, tilting his lips to fit against hers. His arms wrapped tightly, almost painfully, around her as she went boneless in his embrace. By the time he finally pulled away, they were both breathless and aching for more.
“I suppose I can be convinced to play nice…as long as you give me something in return?”
She hummed in assent as he continued his assault on her neck, nipping and sucking marks to the surface.
“Let me take you flying next.”
He grunted as she shoved him back and retreated to the safety of the hippogriff, letting it angle its body to stand in front of her.
”I trust Goldenwing to not let me fall. I do not trust some twiggy stick!”
Draco arranged his stance in one of supplication, bowing deeply and waiting for Goldenwing’s response. Hermione squawked indignantly at the avian’s acceptance as he lowered his head without hesitation.
“I hope you’re referring to the broom and not me.” Draco ignored her snort. “I won’t let you fall, just like I trust you to take care of me,” he replied, stepping forward and carefully running his hand across the hippogriff’s neck, soothing the feathers there. “Or are you taking back your offer?”
“Not on your life, babe.” Hermione vaulted onto Goldenwing’s back and offered a hand to Draco, not even bothering to hide the smirk on her face.
Grasping her palm without any hesitation, he hopped up behind her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as the hippogriff jumped and spread his wings. Draco felt her breath catch as he pushed her hair aside and nuzzled her ear, fingers idly rubbing circles against her sides.
”Let’s get this lesson started, Granger.”