Hermione waited patiently for Ryan to return to the pitch. As much as she was looking forward to flying, she was content to be outside and bask in the joyful surroundings.
She'd never enjoyed a Quidditch match this much before. It was hard to recall what had previously bothered her—the heights and the Bludgers, she supposed. But this time she'd simply felt exhilarated, and her sole frustration was that she wasn't up there with them.
Ron was only a short distance away, but she didn't mind. They'd acknowledged each other in passing but had otherwise stayed apart. He was clearly thrilled about the Cannons' win, and she was happy for him.
She hadn't expected to make plans with Ryan, but it felt perfectly natural somehow. She'd rather enjoyed watching him during the game, confidently passing the Quaffle to his teammates, and he'd scored four goals. There was a harmony to the Chasers' manoeuvres that she'd never noticed before, and she found it mesmerising.
Ryan appeared before her with his broomstick, his hair still damp from the shower. 'Don't you want a Drying Charm?' she asked automatically.
'Not today—I'm enjoying the cool feeling of it.'
His hair looked darker this way, and she found she liked it. His resemblance to her former tormentor was less obvious, and he seemed more approachable somehow.
'That was amazing flying,' she said. 'I don't think I've ever enjoyed watching Quidditch so much.'
'Thanks. Harry gets a lot of the credit—we've improved considerably since he joined the team. He's very inspiring somehow, without even trying.'
'Yes, that's his special gift, He's always been that way.'
He looked down at her bright orange jersey. 'I must say, you're the first person I've seen who can successfully wear that colour.'
'You must have sunstroke,' she said, laughing. 'I'm sure I look frightful in it, but everyone else was wearing it so I had no reason to be embarrassed.'
'I can't imagine you ever need to be embarrassed,' he said.
Ironically she blushed. 'Apparently I do,' she replied, and they both smiled.
'Are you hungry?' he asked. 'Or do you want to go flying straight away?'
'Don't you want to go celebrate first? I don't mind waiting.'
He glanced at his teammates and shook his head. 'No. I suspect we'll have a lot of post-game celebrations from now on. I can miss this one. I'll need to fetch my other broom though. It's at my flat; do you want to come along, or would you rather wait here?'
'I'm happy to accompany you, if it's no bother.'
'None at all. Side-along?' he asked, extending his hand.
She accepted it. 'Yes, please.'
He turned on his heel, and soon she found herself in a modern and sunny flat, not too big. She noticed a Muggle stereo system in the sitting room, along with a vast collection of compact discs.
'No wizarding record player?' she asked.
'You mean an ancient gramophone with a great horn for the speaker? No thanks. Muggle technology far surpasses magic in this respect, not to mention the quality of the music.'
'You don't like the Weird Sisters?'
'Not really. Do you?'
'They played at our Yule Ball in '94 and I thought they were good, but otherwise I'm not very familiar with them. They were rather popular at Hogwarts, though.'
He sniffed and said, 'I'm not surprised—electricity doesn't work there, right?'
'No, of course not.'
'That's the thing—nobody at Hogwarts is exposed to real music, except maybe during the holidays. As far as I'm concerned, the Weird Sisters are a poor knockoff of British Muggle bands. But don't let me bore you with my music obsession ... let's get you onto a broom.'
'All right,' she said, smiling. 'But I want to hear more about music some time—I often feel I've missed a major part of contemporary culture, so I'd love a guided tour.'
'I'd be glad to get you orientated, as long as you promise to tell me when I've bored you to tears.'
She looked through the titles in his music collection while he went into the bedroom for his broom. Some of the band names were familiar, but as far as she knew she hadn't heard any of them.
He returned a minute later carrying a broomstick, which he handed to her. 'It's a Cleansweep Twelve—not what I'd call a racing broom, but great for all-around use. I think you'll like it.' He retrieved his other broom and extended his hand again. 'I thought we could go to the Cannons training grounds and fly there. That's where Harry and I practice during the week.'
'Yes, I'd like to see that,' she said, taking his hand.
He Apparated her in front of a medium-sized one-storey building. 'Here it is,' he said. 'I could show you around, but I'm guessing you'd rather start flying?'
'Yes, please. But I'll take the tour later.'
He led her to some benches but they didn't sit down. 'How much flying have you done?'
'We learnt it at school, and I've had to fly some for transport, but I've never been particularly good at it.'
'What kind of brooms have you used?'
'Mostly the school brooms, which everybody complained about. But Harry made me try his brooms—first a Nimbus Two Thousand and then a Firebolt. And Ron had me try his Cleansweep Eleven.'
'Those are good brooms,' he said, 'though the Nimbus and Firebolt aren't what I'd recommend for a novice.'
She laughed. 'Other than his first day on the school broom, Harry literally started with the Nimbus Two Thousand.'
'I think we can agree he's an outlier,' he observed. 'Now let's see you fly a bit. I'll be right there with you.'
She placed the broom on the ground, as she'd been instructed in her first year, and said, 'Up.' The broom leapt into her hand.
He couldn't help laughing. 'I'm sorry, but that's adorable.' She looked at him and he said, 'That was the flying equivalent of a small child putting on their anorak by placing it on the floor first.'
Normally she might have been offended by his description, but she saw the humour in it. 'I warned you I'm not a very good flyer, didn't I?'
'Not specifically, but I noticed Harry's reaction when you said you wanted to go flying. But what you did is fine—it was rather cute, actually. Please continue.'
She smiled and stepped over the broom, and then she allowed it to lift her about six feet off the ground. He mounted his broom and hovered slightly below her so their eyes were level.
'That's good,' he said. 'Now raise the handle slightly and incline your body forwards.'
She did so and started to angle upwards, not too fast. He flew alongside her and said, 'That's great, you're doing perfectly. Shall we try a left turn?'
'All right,' she said, lurching to the left.
'Oh, there's a problem we can fix. You're not turning smoothly. It's a classic mistake—you're turning with your torso instead of shifting your weight. Stay still a moment and watch what I'm doing ... First I'll show you the correct way.' He flew slowly forward and then gently inclined his entire body to the left, and his broom followed him in a smooth curve. 'And now here's what you were doing.' He turned at the waist, and his broom jerked to the left. 'It's a useful technique later on, if you want to turn on a sixpence, but it's not for beginners.'
Without prompting, she started flying forwards again and inclined her entire body to the left, as he had done. Her broom curved gently to the left, until she turned to him in excitement and it bucked to the right. 'Oh dear, let me try that again.'
'I'll fly in front of you, so you don't need to turn to see me,' he said, flying ahead and then turning around to face her. He allowed his broom to drift backwards. 'All right, try again.'
She inclined to the left again and turned smoothly, and he stayed ahead of her, flying backwards the whole time.
'I didn't even know you could fly backwards,' she said.
'It's not a very common technique, but it's helpful while teaching.'
'Have you taught before then? You're obviously good at it.'
'Yes, in my third year at Widgington I started helping the new students, and anyone else who was having trouble with their flying.'
'That was nice of you,' she said.
'I got most of the benefit, to be honest. It really helped me with the more subtle aspects of flying. But anyway, now that you've turned left, let's see you practice some S-curves. You'll just shift your weight back and forth—slower is better for now.'
She followed his instructions and slowly flew halfway down the pitch, making gentle curves back and forth.
'Excellent,' he said. 'Now see if you can vary the tightness of the curves ... Good, I think you're getting the hang of it.'
'I'm already feeling better on a broomstick than ever before. Why didn't anyone teach the difference between shifting my weight and moving my torso? It seems so simple to explain.'
'I think it's because a lot of people automatically shift their weight when they move their torso, so their turns are much smoother from the start. Someone like that won't understand why you're having trouble,' he explained.
'Whenever Harry or Ron attempted to teach me, or even when Ron's sister Ginny tried to help, I'd get completely frustrated.'
'Well Harry's a natural, so you'd have trouble learning anything from him. And Ron and Ginny grew up flying, so they probably don't have much vocabulary for what they're doing.'
'What about you then? Didn't you learn early?'
'I did, and I'm probably a natural as well. But I'm quite interested in the mechanics of flying, so I've given it more thought than most natural flyers do. My father's an engineer—I suspect I got it from him.'
'Is he a good flyer too?' she asked.
'No, he's a Muggle.'
'Oh, right. I suppose that explains your home stereo system.'
'Yes, and probably a lot of other things about me. I'm rather more pro-Muggle than most wizards, and not just in the "Let's not torture them" respect.'
'I'm fascinated,' she said. 'How do you mean?'
They were still flying lazy S-curves above the pitch, though he was next to her and no longer flying backwards. 'Muggles tend to have a good deal more ingenuity and intellectual rigour than wizards do. Not all Muggles, of course, but if you compare the students at a top Muggle university with the top students at a wizarding school, you'll find the Muggles are much stronger in critical thinking.'
'Have you met many Muggle students then?'
'Yes—I have a lot of cousins on my father's side, and I played on various Muggle sports teams growing up.'
'How do you maintain the Statute of Secrecy?' she asked. 'I've had trouble interacting with my extended family since I started at Hogwarts.'
'It's not easy,' he said. 'But it helps that we have shared interests—the same books and music, for example. I've had to dodge questions about my schooling and career, and I'm sorry to say I've told some outright whoppers. But I think it's better to deceive them than to just disappear from their lives.'
Hermione felt a heaviness, thinking of her own family. 'I wish I'd done that,' she said. 'Not the whoppers necessarily, but maintaining shared interests. Unfortunately, I've become estranged from my relations, and I think it's been hard for my parents.'
'You're not alone. I've heard that from other Muggle-borns as well,' he said. 'And then it gets more complicated when they have non-magical brothers or sisters. Do you have any siblings?'
'No, I'm an only child. But I know it was hard for Harry's mother. He was raised by his non-magical aunt and uncle, and there was a lot of tension.'
'I'm an only child as well,' he said.
'Were your parents afraid you'd have a non-magical sibling?'
'No, quite the opposite. Apparently my accidental magic was a problem from early on. My mother had to become proficient at Memory Charms and perform them regularly on my father's relations to clean up after me. When it came time to consider having a second child, they didn't want to take the risk.'
'At least your parents knew what was happening. I suspect my parents wanted to call in an exorcist. I'm told I made books fly towards my cot early on, particularly after my father had put them away at bedtime.'
He laughed. 'That has to be the cutest thing I've ever heard.'
'Yes, I suppose I've been a swot all my life.'
'You make that sound like a bad thing,' he said. 'I've never understood why it's a slur.'
She smiled at him. 'You're not what I expected,' she admitted.
'What do you mean?' he asked. 'What were you expecting?'
'Oh, I don't know. An athlete ... maybe even a bit of a bully.'
'A bully? Now you've made me nervous—what did I do to give you that impression?'
'Nothing at all. I just have an unfounded prejudice against athletic types.'
'That's unfortunate. Does Harry know?'
'He's not a typical athlete, at least not in the Muggle sense.'
'I suppose not,' said Ryan. 'And I'll admit I know the type you're referring to. I certainly met plenty on my football teams, and more than a few playing Quidditch. Sad to say, there are people who use sports as an excuse not to develop their minds.'
'Forgive me for lumping you with them,' she said.
'Is that why you put me off when I asked you to dinner?'
'Oh dear, did you notice that?'
'Yes. Remember I've cultivated my brains a bit, in spite of my hand-eye coordination.'
She laughed. 'I suppose I did put you off. But that had more to do with ... the situation with Ron.'
'I see.'
'But I'm glad I ran into you today, and that you invited me to go flying.'
'Oh right, we're flying. Or drifting, more like.'
'I suppose we are,' she said. 'But my turning has already improved.'
'It has done! We'll have you throwing a Quaffle in no time.'
'Not likely,' she said, smiling.
'Would you like to try flying faster? You seemed keen earlier to really soar around.'
'I would like that, but I'm not sure I'm ready yet.'
'You could get onto my broom if you prefer.'
'Could I? That sounds like fun.'
'Definitely, let's do it,' he said, and he turned his broom around and they flew back down to the benches. 'You can leave your broomstick here.'
After she set down her broom, he slid towards the front of his broomstick and lowered the back so she could step over it. 'You should hang onto me from behind. There's no need to worry about falling off, because if you get scared your instinct will be to hold on for dear life. And even if there were a freak occurrence and you did fall off, I'm very fast with a Hovering Charm. That said, I'll take it slow to start with, and you can let me know if you want to go faster.'
'That sounds perfect. And thanks—you're very reassuring.'
Hermione sat on the broomstick behind him and wrapped her arms around his midsection. She couldn't help noticing how hard his torso was, and she had to stop herself from exploring with her hands.
'Are you ready?' he asked.
'Yes, go ahead.'
He lifted into the air and aimed upwards and straight ahead. Once he'd reached a good height, he started flying in a figure-eight pattern. 'How is this?' he asked.
'This is lovely. Can we go faster?'
'Definitely! I'll take it up a notch.'
He accelerated forwards and added in some gentle dips and turns. She clutched him a little more tightly but still felt perfectly safe, and she enjoyed the pull of the wind on her hair. It was hard to see, since his shoulders blocked her view, so she held her neck back and tried to see past him.
'I'm sorry, you probably can't see much from there. If your stomach can handle it, you might get a better view by turning your head and resting it between my shoulder blades.'
She followed his advice, leaning into his upper back. 'Oh, this is nice,' she said. 'Normally I don't get to enjoy the scenery because I'm too busy concentrating on not falling off.'
'We can't fly very far, unfortunately, since the wards don't extend much past the pitch, but I can take you through some manoeuvres if you like. I won't go too fast yet.'
'You mean those patterns you were flying with the other Chasers? Those were mesmerising! I'd love to try some.'
'All right, here goes.' Starting near the rings, he launched into a fairly complicated pattern. She was able to imagine how the other Chasers would have coordinated with them, and she found it exhilarating.
'Can we go faster?' she repeated.
'You're a right daredevil! Absolutely, I'll take it into high gear now. Just start shouting if I go too fast.'
She could no longer conceptualise what he was doing—all she knew was that they were moving very quickly, in unpredictable directions, and that it was wonderful. She held him tightly but that was less out of fear than from a wish to feel how he used his muscles to control the broomstick.
'This is brilliant!' she cried. 'No wonder everyone loves flying so much.'
'I know I'm addicted!' he said, as he continued to take them through elaborate patterns.
Hermione was in raptures. All of her senses were fully engaged, and the warm solidity of Ryan's body was all the grounding she needed. She admired his fearlessness, and she found it contagious. 'I can't believe I'm flying like this,' she said. 'I'm not even scared.'
'You're doing fantastic,' he replied. 'I wouldn't normally propose this, but do you want to do some stunts? Flying upside down and such? I promise you'll be safe, and not just because of brute strength or Cushioning Charms. We'll have the laws of physics protecting us as well.'
Something in Hermione melted, hearing a wizard talking about physics. 'I'd love that,' she said.
Ryan launched into wild flying manoeuvres, starting with a long corkscrew and then swinging into large loops, similar to what she'd seen in Muggle rollercoasters she'd been afraid to ride.
'This must be what rollercoasters are like,' she cried exuberantly.
He slowed down and said, 'Yes, that's where I got some of my patterns. I've been to theme parks with my cousins and enjoy studying the rollercoaster shapes to get ideas for flying. Saves me the trouble of doing the maths.'
'That's brilliant. There's really so much wizards can learn from Muggle science.'
'There is,' he said. 'That's one of the many things that were so frustrating about the war—seeing wizards revile Muggles when there's so much to be learned from us. From them, I mean.'
'You identify with Muggles?' she asked, surprised.
'In part, yes. And with wizards.'
She was quiet a moment, and she allowed the gentle breeze to help organise her thoughts. 'I felt like I had to give up being Muggle when I started at Hogwarts.'
They were flying more slowly by then. 'I can see how that might have happened, with a bunch of pure-bloods sneering at you over the slightest lapse.'
'It wasn't as bad as all that,' she said. 'Most pure-bloods were fine, albeit ignorant about the non-magical world. I took Muggle studies for a year and it was a complete waste of time, and fairly inaccurate besides. But you're right that I wanted to fit in as much as possible right away.'
'I'm sorry you went through that. I had much less of an adjustment when I started at Widgington. For one thing it was a day school, so I had my regular life at home. And at the weekend I still had football practice and saw my Muggle friends. I had to be vague about what school I was attending, and they may have noticed I healed suspiciously fast from a broken arm, but other than that I was able to stay connected.'
'I noticed your tone earlier when you mentioned pure-bloods. Were there many at Widgington?'
'Yes, and most of them were fine. I didn't mean to tar them all with the same brush—I know they're not all Death Eaters. But my mother has some pure-blood relations, and they practically disowned her when she married my father. They relented when I turned out magical, and particularly when I joined the Cannons, but it's been hard to trust their intentions. My great-uncle tried to persuade me to use my mother's maiden name instead of Bellamy, but naturally I refused.'
'Wouldn't that have kept you safer during the war, though?'
'Probably not,' he said. 'My Blood Status was already common knowledge—changing my name would have just called attention to it. No, Uncle Atticus just wanted a bit of glory for the Spoonwockets.'
Hermione giggled. 'Your mother's maiden name was Spoonwocket? I can see why you stayed with Bellamy.'
'I beg your pardon! I'll have you know it was a Spoonwocket who invented the fingernail-cleaning charm. Expurgo digites!''
'Those Spoonwockets?' she said, laughing. 'How could I forget! I'm certain I use that charm at least six times daily.'
'Don't we all,' he smiled. "Would you like to fly some more, or shall I give you a tour of the training facility?'
'I'm ready for the tour, I think. But this has been brilliant—thanks so much.'
He steered them to the ground, and Hermione dismounted and retrieved the other broomstick. 'There's not a whole lot to show you,' he said as they walked towards the building. 'We spend most of our day outdoors, and inside is mostly just offices, plus the lockers and the weight room.'
They entered and found Lara there with a pile of papers. 'Ryan, I didn't know you were here,' she said. 'And Hermione, good to see you.'
'Thanks, Lara. Likewise. How are you doing?'
'I'm doing well, thanks. Just taking care of post-match business—I'll be done shortly. Will you be joining everyone to celebrate? I think they're still at the Broken Spyglass.'
Ryan shook his head. 'Not unless you want to go, Hermione. It'll be fun but rather raucous.'
'No, I don't think so,' she replied. Part of her hesitation was because Ron would be there, but she mostly wanted to continue talking with Ryan, and a rowdy pub didn't seem like the right setting.
Ryan showed her around the building, and she was suitably impressed by how Darius's office window looked directly out at the goalposts. 'Muggles don't have a monopoly on good ideas,' she said.
'Certainly not. That's why I love belonging to both worlds.'
They returned to Ryan's flat, and Hermione handed back his broomstick. 'Thanks again,' she said. 'I may have to purchase one of my own. At the very least, I should buy a copy of Which Broomstick? just to see Harry faint from shock.'
'You're welcome to use my broomstick anytime we fly together,' he said. 'I hope we can do this again.'
'I'd like that,' she replied, blushing. 'And I still want that guided tour through pop music.'
'We could do that right now,' he said eagerly, before adjusting his tone. 'If you want, that is. Perhaps you'd rather go home.'
'No, that sounds like fun.' She walked over to his music collection. 'Where do we even start?'
'Good question. When was the last time you heard much popular music? Were you a fan before you started at Hogwarts?'
She shook her head. 'Not really. My parents listened to the Beatles a lot, and other bands from the sixties and seventies, but otherwise I'm a clean slate.'
'Do you like the Beatles? That's really the fundamental question when it comes to British music.'
'I do, yes.'
'Excellent,' he said, and he began pulling CDs from the shelves. 'There's so much fantastic Britpop for you to discover, and loads of American music too. I wish I could hear it all again for the first time—it'll be fun watching you experience it.'
They spent the next hour listening to music—she enjoyed most of it, and his enthusiasm was infectious. She found she even recognised a handful of the songs.
'Oh, I've heard this one!' she said during a particularly lively anthem. He smiled and nodded, and they listened to the rest of song without speaking.
After it ended she explained, 'I heard it the other night, when Harry and I went to a Muggle pub near a university. Everyone seemed to be shouting along with the chorus.
'I'm not surprised,' he said. 'It's called "Common People" and it was a huge hit—the band is called Pulp.'
'They remind me of the Weird Sisters, actually.'
Ryan sniffed derisively. 'That's because Myron Wagtail—the Weird Sisters' lead singer—shamelessly rips off Jarvis Cocker from Pulp. If it weren't for the Statute of Secrecy, they'd probably be sued for plagiarism.'
'That's disappointing,' she said. 'But I agree, this band is much better.'
'Would you like to borrow the album? It's a classic.'
'Yes, I'd enjoy that. I can return it next time I see you, maybe at your next match.'
'I hope I can see you before then,' he said in a low voice.
She felt a thrill in her body and replied, 'So do I.'
He pressed a button on the stereo several times and said, 'This is one of my favourites, from the same album. It's called "Something Changed."'
They were seated on the floor in front of the speakers, and she felt the warm weight of his gaze as they listened to the achingly romantic lyrics. She must have looked at him invitingly because he leaned towards her, and she received him with softly parted lips.
His kiss was gentle, but she returned it passionately, and he drew her body closer to his. When they pulled apart he looked at her with darkened eyes. 'Oh, Hermione,' he exhaled, and his mouth found hers again.
He wrapped his arms around her, and their embrace continued for several more songs, punctuated only by soft utterances of each other's names. 'Ryan,' she sighed, and she ran her hands along the muscles she'd longed to explore while they were flying.
'You're like no one I've ever met,' he said. 'I can't believe how perfect you are.'
'You're rather remarkable yourself,' she replied. She was amazed by how quickly this had all come about, but it felt completely natural.
'Are you hungry? We could go for sushi, unless you still want to put it off to next month,' he said with a smile.
'I think we can advance the schedule. Though I should probably find something else to wear,' she replied, looking at her Cannons jersey.
'I could loan you a shirt, but you'd probably swim in it.'
'I daresay you're right. Can we stop by my house first?'
'Of course,' he said. 'Just give me a moment to change.' He stepped into his bedroom and she took a moment to straighten her appearance.
'My parents will be there,' she called. 'Are you all right meeting them, or would you rather I go myself and come back here?'
He emerged wearing dark jeans and a button-down shirt. 'I'd be happy to meet them,' he said. 'Assuming they don't glower at me for dating their daughter.'
She smiled at his choice of words. 'No need to worry ... I think you already won over my mum by knowing how to use a telephone.'
'Harry said that would impress them,' he confessed.
'Is that why you rang instead of owling me?' she asked.
'Perhaps. But mostly because it was the fastest method—I couldn't just summon you like Harry did today with his house-elf.'
'Harry summoned Kreacher? To the stadium?'
'Yeah, apparently he'd locked him in a cupboard and forgot to release him.'
'Harry locked Kreacher in a cupboard?' exclaimed Hermione. 'On purpose?'
'It seems so. He said his elf was getting out of control and he needed to punish him,' said Ryan, chuckling.
Hermione was enraged. How could Harry do such a thing? 'I need to give him a piece of my mind!' she cried, digging through her handbag. 'Do you have an owl I can borrow?'
'Oh dear, I shouldn't have said anything. But yes, I have an owl—she roosts on the rooftop.'
She pulled out a red envelope and parchment and quickly scrawled a message. 'It's either this or a Patronus, and I don't think an otter would convey the proper outrage.'
'You carry Howler stationery in your handbag?' he asked. 'How many Howlers do you send exactly?'
'I've never sent one before,' she replied. 'Harry gave me the stationery as a joke, and I've had it in my handbag ever since. It's charmed bottomless.'
He led her to the rooftop, and he took the Howler from her and attached it to the owl. 'I'm told she's very persistent, so I promise Harry will receive it.'
'Good! I hope she wakes him from a sound sleep.'
'You know you're a bit terrifying, right?' he said affectionately.
'Yes, I've been told.'
'Terrifying and brilliant,' he added. 'I can't wait to learn even more about you.'
'Consider yourself warned,' she smirked, and she took his hand. 'Side-along?'
'All right,' he said, and she turned on her heel.
They landed in her bedroom. 'Oh dear, I didn't think this through ... my parents might get the wrong impression when we walk downstairs.'
'What, that we've been snogging?' he asked mischievously.
'For example,' she said, turning her face up towards his for a quick kiss, and then she opened the door and led him down the stairs.
'Mum, Dad? I'm home, and I have a friend with me.'
Her mother replied from the kitchen. 'We're in here, preparing dinner.'
They entered the kitchen, and Hermione said, 'This is Ryan Bellamy, one of Harry's teammates.'
'How was the match?' asked Daniel, standing up. 'I'm Daniel Granger, by the way.'
'Nice to meet you, sir,' said Ryan, shaking his hand. 'I'm pleased to say we won for the first time in ages, thanks to Harry.'
'That's wonderful, congratulations!' said Emily, turning from the sink. 'And it's lovely to meet you in person, Ryan.' She turned to Hermione and said, 'Were you out celebrating then?'
'No, Ryan offered to take me flying afterwards.'
'On a broom? I thought you didn't like flying,' said Daniel.
Hermione looked up at Ryan and smiled. 'It seems I'd never had a good teacher before.'
'She was brilliant,' said Ryan. 'I'm certain she'll be proficient in no time.'
Emily said, 'I confess I have mixed feelings about that. I'm not sure I want Hermione undertaking another dangerous activity.'
'I understand. It took my father a while to accept flying—he's non-magical as well. But he was able to stop worrying after he'd done a statistical analysis and determined that brooms are far safer than cars, or even than Apparating.'
'Interesting,' said Daniel. 'So you're half Muggle then? Or I suppose they call that half-blood, right?'
'Yes, technically I'm half-blood,' replied Ryan, 'but it's a broad category as you've probably realised.'
'How old are you, Ryan?' asked Emily.
'I'll be twenty-three in August.'
'Three years older than Hermione, then,' she remarked. 'I'd invite you to stay to dinner, but I've already put it in the oven and I'm not sure we'll have enough.'
'We're going out for sushi, Mum. I've just stopped here to change out of my Cannons jersey.'
'Is that a good idea?' asked Daniel. 'You're less likely to be hit by a car wearing that. They're apparently quite dangerous—worse than brooms.'
Ryan laughed appreciatively, and Hermione excused herself to change into something a bit less blinding. She could tell her parents liked Ryan—probably better than they'd liked Ron, in fact.
She didn't feel the familiar pang when she thought of Ron. Just one day earlier she'd despaired of finding someone she could connect with, but things had changed completely. I even flew, for Merlin's sake.
After changing into a summer jumper, she returned to the kitchen. 'We should probably go—I'm sure Ryan is famished by now.' Her parents stared at her, and she felt her face turn red. 'Because he flew in a match this afternoon,' she hastened to add.
Emily burst into laughter. 'Have a good time. I'm glad you were able to bring Ryan around. Congratulations again on the win.'
'Cheers,' said Ryan, who also looked embarrassed. 'Good night.'
Hermione kissed her parents and led Ryan into the lounge. 'Do you have somewhere in mind?'
'I do,' he said, taking her hand. 'Shall we?'
'Yes,' she replied, and their eyes met for a long while before he turned on his heel.