Summary: Malfoy tries to teach Hermione how to fly a broom, but with disastrous consequences, and he soon comes to an interesting conclusion.

Got this idea after watching Hermione jerk around on the broomstick in Lego Harry Potter Years 1-4 for Wii. I mean, seriously, who flies like that? It was so funny.

Can I consider this somewhat fluffy? XD

And regarding the name of this fic, it's because I was listening to it on repeat while writing this. XD

As much as I love both of them, I do not own either Harry Potter or songs by Owl City.

"Granger! Not like that, you're making an absolute fool of yourself!" Malfoy groaned.

"I can't do it!" she cried, fumbling with the broom. Apparently, sensing her fear, the broomstick refused to lift her into the air even after she kicked at the ground several times.

"Isn't there a spell for these kind of things, I mean-" she retorted, trying to find an excuse for her lower-than-average flying skills.

"No. In fact, it takes physical prowess. Take for example, yours truly. Do you really think that without my God-given skills, I would have been able to successfully obtain the role of Seeker in the Slytherin Quidditch Team?" Puffing up his chest, he winked at Hermione suggestively.

"Actually, I do think so. In fact, it was your father's money-"

"Shush!" Malfoy waved a hand in front of her face, cutting across her for the second time. "That was merely a generous contribution to the welfare of the team. My talent was the factor that made up their minds in the first place."

He turned to his own broom.


Hermione snorted, but it was not long before she was taken aback by the swift, concise movements of the Slytherin Seeker.

"Step One. Don't be afraid. The broom can tell if you are reluctant to fly." Malfoy grabbed his broom and swung his leg over it easily.

"Two: Kick off the ground with confidence! It's not advisable for you to just meekly push off the ground. Kick hard! Show it who's boss!" he said, demonstrating just that, and was airborne immediately.

"Now you try, Granger."

"Hold on, you ferret! This takes time," she grumbled, mounting the broom with slight difficulty.

Aware of the sudden use of insults, an idea popped into Malfoy's head. Nodding encouragingly, he shouted in the direction of Hermione. "Go on, kick off the ground now, Mudbl-"

"Shut up!" she yelled in anguish, and scuffed her toes against the ground. Hermione suddenly felt her feet lift off from the surface, and she squealed.

"Oh my goodness, I did it!"

"...Whatever. Hurry, there's not much time. It looks like it's going to rain very soon," Malfoy said indifferently. Dark clouds had already begun to loom over the Pitch, and the distant roll of thunder could be heard from afar.

Hermione's ecstasy was cut short when she was reminded of her supposed anger towards Malfoy, and she started towards him.

The blonde smirked, knowing full well that she would never be able to get her revenge. He circled around the air above her leisurely, whistling.

And true enough, the moment she tried to turn her broom towards the direction of Malfoy, Hermione flipped upside down, with the broom staying immobile in the air.

"Help!" she screeched, her brown locks hanging limply from her head as she struggled to return to the upright position.

Malfoy relented, lowering himself to give her a hand. After much flailing, Hermione managed to finally flip herself back, and he continued.

"This totally unexpected event brings us to Step Three: How To Control The Broom While In The Air," he spoke sarcastically.

"Urgh, you are so mean!" she remarked, attempting to fly towards Malfoy and failing, again.

"Come on. Why do you complain so much?" he commented airily, flying within arm's reach of the brunette. The first drops of rain were already starting to patter down on the soft sand of the Quidditch Pitch, causing Malfoy to be somewhat preoccupied with looking up at the sky.

This was the perfect time for her vengeance.

She lurched forward towards the blonde, stretched out her arm (not unlike a Seeker), and grabbed the hem of his robes. Malfoy turned around, startled, and she was almost able to deal a sharp, short slap on his snide little face when-

"Wo- Wo- Woah!" she was undeniably close to a nasty fall (seeing that she didn't make it high enough to actually fall to her death), as her grip on the broom loosened when she was trying to maim the Slytherin. Together with the drops of rain that caused the handle of her broom to be slick, Hermione finally slipped off the broom and tumbled towards the ground.

Malfoy's eyes widened as he watched the scene. Without thinking, he immediately sped towards the girl in distress, and with a strong flick of his wrist, he effortlessly seized her hand and tried to pull the panic-stricken girl up and onto his broom.

What happened, however, was that she wrenched his hand in terror and caused him to lose his balance. While scrambling to regain control of his broom, Malfoy was subjected to both Hermione's shrieking and her weight that was causing his broom to be more than a little lopsided.

"Hey! HEY! What are you doing?" Malfoy shouted, his face hovering just above the ground. At that point in time, he was suspended from his broom just by his legs, with Hermione somehow hanging on to his torso, and the smirk was completely wiped off from his face.

"Trying to live, you git!" she shouted, limbs flailing madly. With one last jerk, she accidentally kicked the both of them off the broom and they landed on the ground with a thud, a mess of limbs sprawled on the Quidditch Pitch.

Hermione landed atop Malfoy and their faces were barely inches apart. Still overcome with shock, the pair merely stared at each other blankly, before Hermione sank further into the unintended embrace.

"Oh, goodness. Thanks for saving my life, Draco," she said breathlessly.

"No problem." With a amused sigh, Malfoy absentmindedly pushed back a lock of Hermione's hair and tucked it behind her ear.

They gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever, and suddenly, without warning, the brunette's lips descended upon his. He returned the kiss fervently, somehow enjoying the moment between them despite the fiasco just minutes before.

Malfoy's heart was palpitating wildly, even more so than before, and he was sure that she noticed it. Feeling slightly bashful, the Slytherin hastily disentangled himself from the heap and got to his feet. Brushing off the sand on his robes and acting like nothing happened, he grinned at Hermione nervously.

"Took the opportunity, eh? Thought that I was irresistible, didn't you-" Malfoy could not resist adding, in a desperate attempt to redeem himself.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione retorted with a knowing smile. Standing up as well, she impulsively leaned in for a second kiss.

That should shut him up.

It did.

It must have been quite a sight for onlookers to observe what was supposed to be a tutoring session between the Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"By the way, I give up." Hermione announced, twining her fingers in between Malfoy's.

"Hmm? Give up on what?"


"Oh, I predicted that from the very beginning."

"It looks like I'll never be able to ride on a broom myself then, seeing how utterly useless the teacher was," Hermione teased.

"Never blame the teacher, because it is the student that refused to learn the proper ways of the art of flying. Besides, you were just screaming half the time."

"Sod off, Malfoy."

They trudged off the Quidditch Pitch, hand in hand.

"Maybe we can do this again? Have flying lessons?" Hermione asked, after a while.

"Oh, no. After what you put me through, I'd very much rather not."

Chuckling to himself, he added silently,

"Because your current predicament gives me an excellent reason for you to ride on my broomstick instead."

INNUENDO, anyone?

I had so much fun writing this. The last sentence was inspired by the interview of Tom Felton on Lopez Tonight. XD

Please tell me what you think of it! :)