In truth, Hermione was nervous. Of course she was nervous. Flying had never been something which she liked very much, being more the type of person who preferred to be in control of every detail, every angle of the wand, every flick of her wrist, not carried off in the sky by a strong wind or any other type of gust. The island as a whole already had her doubting her own abilities more than ever before, knowing perfectly well that her magic meant nothing on the sandy shores, and that the island was capable of making just about anything happen, if it wanted, if it had such a whim. Still, she'd come forward with the idea to take the brooms to Tony Stark regardless, knowing how much the activity meant to both Harry and Ron.
And, although her weight shifted more hastily from one foot to the other than ever before, it was with a secret sense of delight that she glanced up at Harry above, waving as he soared.
"Harry!" she called out, smiling from ear to ear. "I didn't realize Mister Stark had finished the prototype so quickly."
Harry grinned from ear to ear as he heard Hermione’s voice. Locating her on the ground, he shifted his weight, moving easily - and extremely quickly - in her direction. Not wanting to startle her though, or scare her with concern for his safety, he did the smart thing and slowed as he drew near her.
“He finished just now,” he said. “Or, well, just now before I took it out for a spin.” The smile hurt his cheeks. He could feel the strain in his muscles, but he simply didn’t care. He would not stop smiling. “It’s brilliant, Hermione, it really is. It’s not exactly like a Firebolt flies back home, but it’s so close. I didn’t really think it would be this good. I didn’t think it could be this good.”
Once his feet were on the ground, Hermione let out a deep sigh, relieved, audible probably even to Harry, who stood a few paces away. But for Hermione not to immediately offer up a slew and string of warnings and cautions was already quite a step for her, and one which resulted from the fact that she wanted Harry to be able to enjoy his newly constructed broom as much as possible; after months of difficulty, it was the least he deserved. She stepped closer, reaching out to help straighten his windblown hair, brow raising as she considered the need to give it a bit of a trim.
"He really is rather brilliant, isn't he?" Hermione remarked, tilting her head, expression far more pleased than it had been only moments prior. "I'm surprised that he was able to turn the brooms out so quickly, but really, you should see some of the things that he's done. As far as engineering goes, you'd expect it all to be magic, but no, he's just... that talented." Glancing up, her smile widened. "I'm glad that it flies well; I was worried that the appearance
( ... )
He grinned and let her fuss with him, not even bothering to roll his eyes, too happy and light to care. His hair was always a mess, and it would only get worse when he was flying every day. Anything Hermione fixed now would get messed up in minutes when he jumped on the broom again.
"Well..." he started. "He didn't turn out all the brooms," Harry admitted. Only now that he was on the ground did he realize that Stark's instructions might not be so exciting for everyone. "Just the one. He... actually said you could manage the rest. If you followed his instructions..."
Hermione leveled Harry with a look, one which told him just how transparent he was being right then, her lips pursing as she continued to fuss with his hair. Although she knew that trying to take her scissors to it again would only end up disappointing, she couldn't help thinking that she needed to prioritize finding someone who would be able to help him with the task. "He said that, did he?" Hermione tilted her head, voice light and airy. "And I suppose you assumed that I would go through with it, being one of your best friends and all."
Letting silence hang for a few more seconds, she shook her head, expression fond. "Which would be correct, of course, and I suppose I should take it as a compliment from Mister Stark that he thinks me capable of replicating his work. Maybe as my first engineering project..." her voice trailed off as she redirected her attention to the broom.
Harry held his breath through those few seconds. He knew that eventually Hermione would cave. Maybe not at this moment, but in the days and weeks to follow, when Harry and Ron would dog her mercilessly and beg and plead. Harry knew for certain that he and Ron wouldn't be able to manage the task themselves. She was their only hope.
But when she gave in so easily, and with that look that said she had only been playing with him, Harry burst out into an aching smile again. "Aw, thanks, Hermione!" he enthused, sweeping her up into a tight, one-armed hug. "You're the best."
Coming from anyone else, the sudden embrace might have resulted in tensing shoulders and yelps of surprise; from Harry, Hermione only managed a bright laugh before patting him on the shoulder with a nod. Although Hermione had certainly spent a vast majority of her time working on island affairs, and far less on spending time with her friends, that didn't mean that she was unwilling to drop a few hours on something less practical, something solely meant for fun. (But even that had its own value, Hermione always reasoned, high spirits being the key to keeping hope it one's heart.)
"If I'd known that helping to construct brooms would have earned me so much praise, I might've tried earlier," she remarked, grin slightly crooked. "Though you know that this will mean even longer hours in lab."
"Oh, come on. I'm always willing to praise you," Harry replied. While that might not have been strictly true, as there were plenty of times when Harry did not appreciate Hermione's intelligence, like when it got in his way, Harry did know that in the past he was quicker to notice when Hermione needed a pat on the back than Ron was. When he did remember to praise her, he did so freely, and sometimes to anyone who would listen.
"In the name of Quidditch, Hermione," he said with a falsely stern face, "some sacrifices are necessary."
"You're willing to praise me when it suits you, or at least when I'm not making a choice that leaves you distraught," Hermione clarified on his behalf, though the teasing smile remained on her lips. For all the times that they'd argued in the past, if there was one thing that Hermione had come to depend on with Harry, it was that the two of them would always find one another again in the end. That they weren't hard-headed or hard-hearted enough to remain at odds for long, especially in more recent years, the lessons learned from one another more than enough to let the trust run deep and strong. "But it matters less now; I'm not nearly as desperate for reassurance as I was in first year."
Resting a hand under her chin, she shook her head. "And don't misunderstand, Harry. I'm more than willing to make the sacrifice, I only expect that Ron will put up a bit of resistance. Or at least, he'll be more vocal than you are about the fact that I'm taking so many classes on the island."
"But it's Quidditch, Hermione," Harry argued, before the full meaning of her words hit him. Why would Ron complain about anything that related to Quidditch? So what if they didn't see Hermione for hours or even days if they knew it would end soon and with flying brooms? They could both go hang out with Hermione while she worked. It would be the same as--
Oh. No. It wasn't the same as it had always been anymore.
"Hm." Harry pursed his lips in thought, trying to figure what would make up for a lack of a girlfriend for a few weeks. Nothing at all, but that simply wasn't an option. "I can try to distract him?" Harry suggested. "We have to figure out try-outs and what we need to change because of the island. And he needs time to practice on this broom."
"It's true, both of you will certainly need time to adjust to the new brooms, and tryouts will probably end up being a fairly lengthy process, between needing to inform people and having to potentially teach them the positions and rules," Hermione considered with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight slightly in thought. "Did you plan on both organizing separate teams? Because I do believe that of all the people here on the island, the two of you are probably the most recently and thoroughly acquainted with the sport, though I don't know if the two of you could bear playing on separate teams
( ... )
Harry snorted softly, but he wasn’t particularly amused by the idea of dealing with another Cormac. “I don’t think we have many like Cormac on the island,” he said, cool and wry. “He’s one of a kind.
“But don’t worry, Hermione,” he went on to assure her more seriously. “I think the worst we’re going to end up with is Malfoy.” Even Draco wasn’t horrible all the time. Harry wasn’t kind enough to say that out loud, but he still thought it and thought Hermione would give the Slytherin a fairer shake than he would besides. “And if not: they’re our brooms. Ron and I aren’t going to let any idiot use them.”
"Mine as well, partially, if you expect me to help with assembling these," she remarked with a pointed look, tilting her head to get a better glimpse at the broom and the engine in specific. "I fully reserve the right to withhold my share of the brooms if the weather's terrible; the last thing I want is for either of you to hurt yourselves when Madam Pomfrey isn't around."
After a pause, she grinned.
"But it'll be interesting," Hermione considered with an amused exhale, furrowing his brows and allowing mischief to fall lightly upon her features, gaze a bit distant. "Seeing just how much he'll be willing to compromise in exchange for a go on the broom. Who knows? Perhaps these brooms will be a blessing for more reasons than one."
And, although her weight shifted more hastily from one foot to the other than ever before, it was with a secret sense of delight that she glanced up at Harry above, waving as he soared.
"Harry!" she called out, smiling from ear to ear. "I didn't realize Mister Stark had finished the prototype so quickly."
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“He finished just now,” he said. “Or, well, just now before I took it out for a spin.” The smile hurt his cheeks. He could feel the strain in his muscles, but he simply didn’t care. He would not stop smiling. “It’s brilliant, Hermione, it really is. It’s not exactly like a Firebolt flies back home, but it’s so close. I didn’t really think it would be this good. I didn’t think it could be this good.”
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"He really is rather brilliant, isn't he?" Hermione remarked, tilting her head, expression far more pleased than it had been only moments prior. "I'm surprised that he was able to turn the brooms out so quickly, but really, you should see some of the things that he's done. As far as engineering goes, you'd expect it all to be magic, but no, he's just... that talented." Glancing up, her smile widened. "I'm glad that it flies well; I was worried that the appearance ( ... )
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"Well..." he started. "He didn't turn out all the brooms," Harry admitted. Only now that he was on the ground did he realize that Stark's instructions might not be so exciting for everyone. "Just the one. He... actually said you could manage the rest. If you followed his instructions..."
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Letting silence hang for a few more seconds, she shook her head, expression fond. "Which would be correct, of course, and I suppose I should take it as a compliment from Mister Stark that he thinks me capable of replicating his work. Maybe as my first engineering project..." her voice trailed off as she redirected her attention to the broom.
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But when she gave in so easily, and with that look that said she had only been playing with him, Harry burst out into an aching smile again. "Aw, thanks, Hermione!" he enthused, sweeping her up into a tight, one-armed hug. "You're the best."
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"If I'd known that helping to construct brooms would have earned me so much praise, I might've tried earlier," she remarked, grin slightly crooked. "Though you know that this will mean even longer hours in lab."
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"In the name of Quidditch, Hermione," he said with a falsely stern face, "some sacrifices are necessary."
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Resting a hand under her chin, she shook her head. "And don't misunderstand, Harry. I'm more than willing to make the sacrifice, I only expect that Ron will put up a bit of resistance. Or at least, he'll be more vocal than you are about the fact that I'm taking so many classes on the island."
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Oh. No. It wasn't the same as it had always been anymore.
"Hm." Harry pursed his lips in thought, trying to figure what would make up for a lack of a girlfriend for a few weeks. Nothing at all, but that simply wasn't an option. "I can try to distract him?" Harry suggested. "We have to figure out try-outs and what we need to change because of the island. And he needs time to practice on this broom."
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“But don’t worry, Hermione,” he went on to assure her more seriously. “I think the worst we’re going to end up with is Malfoy.” Even Draco wasn’t horrible all the time. Harry wasn’t kind enough to say that out loud, but he still thought it and thought Hermione would give the Slytherin a fairer shake than he would besides. “And if not: they’re our brooms. Ron and I aren’t going to let any idiot use them.”
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After a pause, she grinned.
"But it'll be interesting," Hermione considered with an amused exhale, furrowing his brows and allowing mischief to fall lightly upon her features, gaze a bit distant. "Seeing just how much he'll be willing to compromise in exchange for a go on the broom. Who knows? Perhaps these brooms will be a blessing for more reasons than one."
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