Fic: Ask Me to Fly
Another one that sort of needed to be moved over. I sort of miss this couple! They were so young here!
Title: Ask Me to Fly
Rating: PG-13 (for thoughts of Quidditch Boys playing without shirts and some death angst)
Disclaimer: Teen angst...Teen fluff. It's the same thing, anyway
Pairings: implied Megan Jones/Zacharias Smith
Summary: Quidditch boys should really learn to get their own schoolbooks...and to keep their shirts on.
The days were getting longer and warmer. Spring was rushing headlong into summer and nothing could dissuade it from its set course. The only thing one could do was go along with the game and hope not to get caught up in the muggy weather when it inevitably came.
Megan grimaced as she looked around the room. Four girls sharing one sleeping area was not the most pleasant experience when every piece of clothing seemed to be lying in the middle of the room. The rest of the girls had gone diving for their beach outfits at the first sign of sun today, eager to start on their tans. She had made one excuse after another why she didn't want to join them but now she wished she had been able to give in and go closer to the water where it was cooler.
Instead, she had taken a cool shower and attempted to dress in her favorite blue top and cutoff denims. Fifteen minutes later, she still hadn't found the top so had settled for Laura's red spaghetti strap tank. She wasn't completely comfortable in showing off this much skin but no one was around to see her. Everyone was bound to be down at the lake, enjoying a last hurrah before it was time to start studying for O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s and other such nonsense.
Drying off her hair with the towel, but foregoing her usual drying charm, Megan grabbed up her sandals and a bottle of water. A couple hours of studying in the shade by the Quidditch pitch might be just the way to spend the day. It sounded nicer than the library or the common room studying area. All her schoolbooks were still down there from last night and she would just take along the History of Magic text. With any luck, she could immerse herself in the dry stories a bit better with some sunshine mixed in.
The only problem was that her HoM book was nowhere to be found. It wasn't on top of the books where she thought she had left it in its usual alphabetical order or anywhere else in the stack. She checked the other stacks and came up empty handed. It was tempting to take one of the other's books but she had notes in the margin that helped her to remember the dates and specific battles.
With a muffled curse, she stamped her foot and tried to think where it could be. She had specifically left it down here so that all her schoolwork would be in one place but where could it be?
"I don't think I've ever heard you say that word before, lil bit."
With a sigh of part mortification and part anger, she turned and tried not to glare at Zach. "Could you please quit calling me that? It was cute when I was a first year but it's getting rather tired. I've grown two inches this year."
"Two inches, huh? Almost full grown." The blush was pure mortification as she saw his eyes travel downward. "In more ways than one."
If she could have spoken, she would have called him every name she could think of but all she could do was sputter and grow redder as he laughed from his prone position on the couch by the fire. She tried not to think about how golden his hair looked in the flickering light of the cool flames or how his eyes squinted just a bit when he grinned. Instead, she concentrated on her irritation that he had noticed something she had been trying so hard to hide for the past couple of months.
With her arms crossed over her chest, she stomped over to him and tried to grab at the book lying open on his chest. “You, Zacharias Smith, are not a very nice boy. And I believe this is my book.”
He grabbed it just as she reached for it, yanking it back and toppling her off balance onto his chest. Her scowl firmly in place, she put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself from falling completely on him. Her heart beat wildly as they looked at each other eye to eye. It wasn’t often she was able to do this with many of the boys, seeing as they were feet taller than her.
“Give me my book.”
“No. I’m not done with it.”
“It’s mine,” she spit out, her teeth clenched.
“I told you I wasn’t done with it but I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a sporting chance and play a game of Exploding Snaps for it. If you win, I’ll give you the book. If I win, I get to keep the book for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Go get your own!”
“I don’t have mine right now. I threw it over the railing at the Slytherin boys yesterday.”
“Then go ask Crabbe for it back.” Her hand slipped and he reached up to steady her body before it came crashing down on his. It didn’t register right away that his hand was on the uncovered skin of her side.
“I can’t. It hit Goyle. He tried to throw it back but it missed and fell into the fountain.”
“Where was your wand? Why didn’t you just Accio it back?”
“I was busy shooting water at Draco with my wand.”
The conversation about soggy books and stupid boys along with the burning sensation where his hand was touching her brought her back to her senses and she struggled to stand up. He laughed again and she punched his chest.
“Fine. Keep it. You probably need it more than I do, you poor Quidditch boy. If you spent as much time studying as you do on your broom, you’d be ever so much brighter.” With a toss of her hair, she grabbed the Charms scroll she had been memorizing last night and left the room.
****
“I came to bring you your book back.”
She opened her eyes and tried to contain her reaction at the sight of his bare chest. The Quidditch boys were practicing in the heat of the day again…without pads. The fan girls should be along anytime now.
“Thank you. I’m so glad you’re done with it.”
“You coming to watch the practice with the rest of them?”
With a leisurely push of her bare foot, the hammock started swinging again and she stared impassively at him. “Does it look like I want to give up my spot in the shade for hot grandstands filled with giggling girls? I’d rather be playing.”
She said it disdainfully but the idea interested her. The few times she had played Quidditch, she had loved the pace of the game and the sense of competition that had fired up her blood. There was only one thing that kept her from trying out and that was the Quidditch boys. All of them, including her idol Cedric, were rude and loud and boorish and mean. And all of them looked frightfully good without their shirts on when they practiced in the sunshine.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” she asked, trying to figure out what she had said.
“Come play with us. We’ve asked a few of the others to fly so we could have a real game.”
“I don’t have my broom.”
“Ever heard of Accio?” His smirk told her he wouldn’t be forgetting her snide remarks any time soon.
She sighed dramatically and kept swinging. “I’m afraid I just can’t. I don’t look nearly as nice as you do without my shirt.”
He flushed slightly and she fought back her own blush as she realized what she said. Megan Jones! Where did that come from?
“You can be on the other side. They’re keeping their shirts on.”
“And what fun would that be?” Before she could say anything else stupid, she grabbed the book from his outstretched hand and buried her head in it. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
He stood silently in front of her until the shouts of the other boys called him away.
You should have just said yes. It would have been fun. You could have talked to him about Quidditch later.
“Megan? Are you going to the practice?” The first year peeked her head around the tree that held one end of the hammock up. Her freckles stood out today which meant she had been in the sun. Probably frolicking on the beach with the rest of them.
“Wasn’t planning on it. Are you?” She liked Ellie. Had ever since the little blonde had come up to her right after the Sorting Hat had put her in Hufflepuff and asked her if she could explain why everyone was just sitting around and were they going to eat soon? She had just been so precocious that Megan couldn’t help but laugh at her but motioned for her to sit down next to her. It was a place the little girl hadn’t moved from since.
“Cedric will be there.”
“So? I thought you didn’t like Cedric. He’s mean to you.”
“No. He’s not mean. He’s annoying. There’s a difference.”
Yes, there is a difference but why do boys have to be either? Why can’t they just be nice and sweet and say pleasant things and make it easier to like them? Why do they think it’s fun to make me growl and stomp my foot? Why do they keep pulling my hair?
The girl edged closer and grinned. “And they don’t have their shirts on today.”
“Eleanor Branstone! You’re eleven years old! When did you start noticing things like that?”
“Grow up, Megan. Who could help but notice them. We have the nicest looking team in the entire school.”
Megan shook with laughter as she tried to hold it in. It was true. They did. The Hufflepuffs didn’t have much else going for them but they did have a nice looking, half-naked Quidditch team.
“You don’t play fair, Ellie. Come on. Maybe you can quiz me on these Charms while we wait for the fan girls to finish storming the stands.”
***
One year later, almost to the day, Megan stood in the same spot that she watched the Quidditch practice and wept. Her tears burned as they coursed down her cheeks but her body felt like ice. He really wasn't coming back. It wasn't a dream.
The Quidditch boys weren't flying today. Most of them had put their brooms down and vowed never to take them up again. It woudn't last. It couldn't. Cedric would have wanted them to fly. He would have demanded it.
She wasn't the only one mourning on the pitch today. The bright sunlight glinted off his golden hair as he sat in the middle of the field.
Ask me to fly, Zach. Convince me to play. I want to do this for him. If you ask, I'll do it for you. Talk to me, Zach. Pull my hair. Make me stomp my foot. Give me a reason to quit hurting like this.
At that moment, he looked over at her but she was too far away to see what his eyes did. She only saw the narrowing of his lips as he turned back to study the sky.
Title: Ask Me to Fly
Rating: PG-13 (for thoughts of Quidditch Boys playing without shirts and some death angst)
Disclaimer: Teen angst...Teen fluff. It's the same thing, anyway
Pairings: implied Megan Jones/Zacharias Smith
Summary: Quidditch boys should really learn to get their own schoolbooks...and to keep their shirts on.
The days were getting longer and warmer. Spring was rushing headlong into summer and nothing could dissuade it from its set course. The only thing one could do was go along with the game and hope not to get caught up in the muggy weather when it inevitably came.
Megan grimaced as she looked around the room. Four girls sharing one sleeping area was not the most pleasant experience when every piece of clothing seemed to be lying in the middle of the room. The rest of the girls had gone diving for their beach outfits at the first sign of sun today, eager to start on their tans. She had made one excuse after another why she didn't want to join them but now she wished she had been able to give in and go closer to the water where it was cooler.
Instead, she had taken a cool shower and attempted to dress in her favorite blue top and cutoff denims. Fifteen minutes later, she still hadn't found the top so had settled for Laura's red spaghetti strap tank. She wasn't completely comfortable in showing off this much skin but no one was around to see her. Everyone was bound to be down at the lake, enjoying a last hurrah before it was time to start studying for O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s and other such nonsense.
Drying off her hair with the towel, but foregoing her usual drying charm, Megan grabbed up her sandals and a bottle of water. A couple hours of studying in the shade by the Quidditch pitch might be just the way to spend the day. It sounded nicer than the library or the common room studying area. All her schoolbooks were still down there from last night and she would just take along the History of Magic text. With any luck, she could immerse herself in the dry stories a bit better with some sunshine mixed in.
The only problem was that her HoM book was nowhere to be found. It wasn't on top of the books where she thought she had left it in its usual alphabetical order or anywhere else in the stack. She checked the other stacks and came up empty handed. It was tempting to take one of the other's books but she had notes in the margin that helped her to remember the dates and specific battles.
With a muffled curse, she stamped her foot and tried to think where it could be. She had specifically left it down here so that all her schoolwork would be in one place but where could it be?
"I don't think I've ever heard you say that word before, lil bit."
With a sigh of part mortification and part anger, she turned and tried not to glare at Zach. "Could you please quit calling me that? It was cute when I was a first year but it's getting rather tired. I've grown two inches this year."
"Two inches, huh? Almost full grown." The blush was pure mortification as she saw his eyes travel downward. "In more ways than one."
If she could have spoken, she would have called him every name she could think of but all she could do was sputter and grow redder as he laughed from his prone position on the couch by the fire. She tried not to think about how golden his hair looked in the flickering light of the cool flames or how his eyes squinted just a bit when he grinned. Instead, she concentrated on her irritation that he had noticed something she had been trying so hard to hide for the past couple of months.
With her arms crossed over her chest, she stomped over to him and tried to grab at the book lying open on his chest. “You, Zacharias Smith, are not a very nice boy. And I believe this is my book.”
He grabbed it just as she reached for it, yanking it back and toppling her off balance onto his chest. Her scowl firmly in place, she put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself from falling completely on him. Her heart beat wildly as they looked at each other eye to eye. It wasn’t often she was able to do this with many of the boys, seeing as they were feet taller than her.
“Give me my book.”
“No. I’m not done with it.”
“It’s mine,” she spit out, her teeth clenched.
“I told you I wasn’t done with it but I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a sporting chance and play a game of Exploding Snaps for it. If you win, I’ll give you the book. If I win, I get to keep the book for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Go get your own!”
“I don’t have mine right now. I threw it over the railing at the Slytherin boys yesterday.”
“Then go ask Crabbe for it back.” Her hand slipped and he reached up to steady her body before it came crashing down on his. It didn’t register right away that his hand was on the uncovered skin of her side.
“I can’t. It hit Goyle. He tried to throw it back but it missed and fell into the fountain.”
“Where was your wand? Why didn’t you just Accio it back?”
“I was busy shooting water at Draco with my wand.”
The conversation about soggy books and stupid boys along with the burning sensation where his hand was touching her brought her back to her senses and she struggled to stand up. He laughed again and she punched his chest.
“Fine. Keep it. You probably need it more than I do, you poor Quidditch boy. If you spent as much time studying as you do on your broom, you’d be ever so much brighter.” With a toss of her hair, she grabbed the Charms scroll she had been memorizing last night and left the room.
****
“I came to bring you your book back.”
She opened her eyes and tried to contain her reaction at the sight of his bare chest. The Quidditch boys were practicing in the heat of the day again…without pads. The fan girls should be along anytime now.
“Thank you. I’m so glad you’re done with it.”
“You coming to watch the practice with the rest of them?”
With a leisurely push of her bare foot, the hammock started swinging again and she stared impassively at him. “Does it look like I want to give up my spot in the shade for hot grandstands filled with giggling girls? I’d rather be playing.”
She said it disdainfully but the idea interested her. The few times she had played Quidditch, she had loved the pace of the game and the sense of competition that had fired up her blood. There was only one thing that kept her from trying out and that was the Quidditch boys. All of them, including her idol Cedric, were rude and loud and boorish and mean. And all of them looked frightfully good without their shirts on when they practiced in the sunshine.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” she asked, trying to figure out what she had said.
“Come play with us. We’ve asked a few of the others to fly so we could have a real game.”
“I don’t have my broom.”
“Ever heard of Accio?” His smirk told her he wouldn’t be forgetting her snide remarks any time soon.
She sighed dramatically and kept swinging. “I’m afraid I just can’t. I don’t look nearly as nice as you do without my shirt.”
He flushed slightly and she fought back her own blush as she realized what she said. Megan Jones! Where did that come from?
“You can be on the other side. They’re keeping their shirts on.”
“And what fun would that be?” Before she could say anything else stupid, she grabbed the book from his outstretched hand and buried her head in it. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
He stood silently in front of her until the shouts of the other boys called him away.
You should have just said yes. It would have been fun. You could have talked to him about Quidditch later.
“Megan? Are you going to the practice?” The first year peeked her head around the tree that held one end of the hammock up. Her freckles stood out today which meant she had been in the sun. Probably frolicking on the beach with the rest of them.
“Wasn’t planning on it. Are you?” She liked Ellie. Had ever since the little blonde had come up to her right after the Sorting Hat had put her in Hufflepuff and asked her if she could explain why everyone was just sitting around and were they going to eat soon? She had just been so precocious that Megan couldn’t help but laugh at her but motioned for her to sit down next to her. It was a place the little girl hadn’t moved from since.
“Cedric will be there.”
“So? I thought you didn’t like Cedric. He’s mean to you.”
“No. He’s not mean. He’s annoying. There’s a difference.”
Yes, there is a difference but why do boys have to be either? Why can’t they just be nice and sweet and say pleasant things and make it easier to like them? Why do they think it’s fun to make me growl and stomp my foot? Why do they keep pulling my hair?
The girl edged closer and grinned. “And they don’t have their shirts on today.”
“Eleanor Branstone! You’re eleven years old! When did you start noticing things like that?”
“Grow up, Megan. Who could help but notice them. We have the nicest looking team in the entire school.”
Megan shook with laughter as she tried to hold it in. It was true. They did. The Hufflepuffs didn’t have much else going for them but they did have a nice looking, half-naked Quidditch team.
“You don’t play fair, Ellie. Come on. Maybe you can quiz me on these Charms while we wait for the fan girls to finish storming the stands.”
***
One year later, almost to the day, Megan stood in the same spot that she watched the Quidditch practice and wept. Her tears burned as they coursed down her cheeks but her body felt like ice. He really wasn't coming back. It wasn't a dream.
The Quidditch boys weren't flying today. Most of them had put their brooms down and vowed never to take them up again. It woudn't last. It couldn't. Cedric would have wanted them to fly. He would have demanded it.
She wasn't the only one mourning on the pitch today. The bright sunlight glinted off his golden hair as he sat in the middle of the field.
Ask me to fly, Zach. Convince me to play. I want to do this for him. If you ask, I'll do it for you. Talk to me, Zach. Pull my hair. Make me stomp my foot. Give me a reason to quit hurting like this.
At that moment, he looked over at her but she was too far away to see what his eyes did. She only saw the narrowing of his lips as he turned back to study the sky.