Ron loves to fly.
Ever since he was a child, there’s never really been anything quite like it. Okay, so sex is probably better, but he can’t really count that. There’s not really a comparison between sex and flying, after all. Flying is exhilarating and it’s exciting to soar through the sky. It’s calm and peaceful to hover miles above the ground. It’s dangerous yet relaxing to turn and dip and feel the wind in his hair.
He’s been flying since he was a kid, sneaking onto his older brother’s brooms when his mum wasn’t looking and learning how to fly from Charlie, who was the best flier in the family. The first time he got on a broom, he held on to Charlie tightly and urged his brother to go higher and higher because he wanted to feel the clouds. Charlie had laughed and twisted the broom until they were flying upside down and Ron had forgotten about the clouds.
There’s not much that Ron feels he can do well, but he knows he‘s a bloody good flier. Hermione argues with him all the bloody time about his ‘feelings of inadequacy’, as she calls it. He doesn’t know how she can be all in his business about that stuff when she’s insecure about most everything except her performance in class or, in later life, at work. He loves Hermione, though, and doesn’t mind her constant need to interfere and try to solve the problems of the world, most of the time. He gets tired of hearing her analyze him sometimes just as she gets tired of him telling her she thinks too much.
He supposes that’s one reason they didn’t make sense together. They tried because they do love each other and it felt like it was supposed to happen for them. He’d fancied her for years, after all, and he’d finally realized she liked him, too. Kissing Hermione had been nice, but neither one of them had ever tried to do more than kiss. That was probably the first sign that they fit better as friends. It took them six months before they decided to end things. Relationships are just another area of failure for him. Well, not all of them. But he doesn’t count Harry because, well, they didn’t fit better as friends.
Despite his success at what he and Harry have, flying is still one of the few things that Ron knows he’s good at. He loves Quidditch but knows he can’t play it as well as a lot of people. Flying, though, is an area where he excels. When he flies, he leaves everything behind. It’s like weight is lifted from his shoulders the higher he gets and soon he thinks of nothing but trying to touch the sky.
He plays Quidditch with Harry on Sundays but usually forgets about the game and just flies until his mind is empty for awhile. It’s a good thing that Harry doesn’t care much about actually keeping score, which would really be silly to do with just the two of them, and just prefers to fly, too.
Ron loves flying with Harry.
End
Flying
Story Notes:
July 15, 2007