For: Grasshopper(firstname.lastname@example.org) Happy Holiday(s)!
Harry Potter Crossover--Pairing: Willow/Marcus Flint(I've never written him before, so be kind if he seems a little OOC)
Rating: Light R for lang'.
A/N: For the 2003 Secret Santa event. Would technically take place during season three BtVS, and for the purposes of the story, it's mid-November. Book six for HP.
She was upset.
No, that wasn't the right word. She really wanted to beat Ron's face in for making her take these damned lessons, but tried to refrain. He didn't want to listen when she said that she would much rather keep her feet firmly planted on the ground.
Willow sometimes wished she was an only child again.
The only reason she was an expert hacker was because she had spent years 7-15 trying to find her birth family. Then she met Giles, and he told her all about the wizarding community when she showed intrest in magic and re-cursed Angel. He was also the one who contacted the Weasleys, his best guess on who's family she might belong to. It took her a while to get used to "Willow Weasley", and even longer to get used to having a twin brother, Ron.
So now here she was, making her way down to the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Vengeful and annoyed. That would have to do for now.
Madame Hooch was sick, so Dumbledore had arranged for a Slytherin student to teach her how to fly. Marcus something. Willow saw him waiting, with his arms crossed by the goals, and he looked her up and down as she approached.
"Y'know I can't teach you unless you're willing to learn," he said. "You don't seem to want to be here, Weasley."
Copying his stance, she shot back, "That's 'cause I don't. My thickheaded brother signed me up."
"Most Weasleys are thickheaded."
"Get fucked." Willow would have regretted saying such a foul term, but she *was* vengeful and annoyed, after all.
"You burn me with your language," Marcus said, faking offense. "Guess that means this will be your only lesson. But hey, you may like it."
"I doubt it. I hate flying on *planes* and I'm inside something then."
"It's a Muggle machine that flies." Willow forgot sometimes that not all wizards would know what she was talking about when she said 'planes', 'television', or 'internet'. "Can we get this over with?"
Marcus picked up the broomstick that lay at his feet--a Nimbus Two Thousand and One--and mounted it. "Come here. It easier on the same broom." Willow hesitated before getting in front of him, grasping the smooth black handle awkwardly. "On three we kick off. One.. two.. three!"
Willow squezed her eyes shut when the ground fell away... fast. He chuckled behind her as they stilled in midair, and she glanced down. They had to be about twenty feet up. She panicked.
Her grip on the broom was confusing it, and it was jerking around threatening to buck them both off. With one hand, Marcus yanked both of the witch's hands away and held them to her middle, while the other hand steadied the broom.
"Will you relax? You aren't going to fall off unless you're related to Longbottom, and that hair doesn't lie!"
"Well I'm sorry if this is scaring the heck outta me!"
"Then we're staying right here until you get used to being in the air."
It took Marcus several minutes to realize that Willow was holding his hand tightly for comfort. A little too tightly, but he supposed he couldn't blame her. He had been somewhat nervous his first time on a broom, and he had been familiar with the concept.
"I th-think I'm ready to move n-now."
He raised his eyebrows. "You sure? 'Cos I bloody well don't want you messing up my broom again."
"Yea, I'm sure."
Pulling her hands to the broom handle, he placed them appropriately. "My hands will be right behind yours. If you get nervous, just pull away, alright?" The red hair in front of his face bobbed up and down. "Okay, lean forward gently."
Willow smiled as the broom was propeled forward at a steady pace, at just the right speed.
"Lean to the right a bit." She felt Marcus move with her and they headed twards the castle.
"It's beautiful." Her eyes traveled over the walls of the various towers on the school, the lawns that were still muddy from the other night's rain, and the lake sitting in the distance, wishing that Xander was up there with her. A strange sense of boldness took over. "Can we go higher?"
"Sure. Pull up on the handle with your forward hand."
Gradually the broom gained altitude as Willow circled around the school, and she suddenly began to feel a little bit better about being suspended in midair. A sudden beeping caused her to jump. Marcus looked at his watch.
"What class do you have next?" he asked.
"Shit. Here endeth today's lesson then. Snape doesn't like it when people dawdle."
"Especially if they're Griffyndors," Willow muttered. "How do I get down?"
"Press down on the handle with the same hand as earlier." They made their way to the front doors silently and easily.
"Y'know, it's not that hard to fly."
"For most people it's not."
Willow handed the Slytherin back his broom. "Can I do it again?"
"I thought it was all your thickheaded brother's fault?"
"I'll just hex him later. Maybe we could go higher and faster the next time?"
Marcus just grinned at the redhead.