Holiday From Real

I walked at my normal pace to the library; I smirked when I heard the familiar tapping of dress shoes behind me. Of course, all the male Hogwarts students own and wear dress shoes, so the corridors were filled with their quiet, almost nonexistent sound, but Tom's has a different sound. They were a little bit louder than the rest, and they didn't have the same sound; the sound is similar, but not quite the same. His is a rhythmic tap against the cold stones floors, while the others sound rather hollow, like a light tap against a wall. I looked at a passing suit of armor and caught a glimpse of a curious Tom walking thirty feet behind me. I drew in a deep, proud breath and changed my course from the library to out of the castle. I paused on the castle steps and preformed a spell on my flats so that they wouldn't get muddy or ruined in a different way, put my hood on, and then started to walk again. My shoe protection made Tom only ten feet behind me; I walked half way to the Quidditch Field in total silence, but I was starting to get rather curious myself. I turned around and walked backwards, we made eye contact for ten seconds before I said, "I'm surprised."

He stopped, so I stopped. He picked an odd looking, but still beautiful red flower, walked over to me and did a motion that could easily be mistaken for a sweet offering. A small smile crept onto his face and he swiftly took his wand out of his right front pocket. He nonverbally transfigured the flower into an umbrella; I watched with quiet awe while the soft, straight, green stem of the flower slowly lengthened into a stiff, green, curved handle of an umbrella. The red and purple petals grew and connected until they became a medium sized umbrella, and the soft center of the flower turned into a hard ball that securely connected all the petals. Tom half smirked, half smiled when I blinked twice to make sure what he did actually just happened. With a voice barely above a sigh, I looked up into his eyes and said, "Thanks."

He watched me slide my hood off with my right hand and asked, "Why are you surprised?"

I smiled crookedly, "I'm surprised that you'd follow me so long without saying anything."

He mimicked my smile and securely held onto the curved handle with his left hand. He held it above both of us and replied, "I'm surprised you winked at me."

I slid my hands back into my pockets, looked in front of me, and started to walk again. Tom matched my pace while I said, "Why are you so confident that I was winking at you?"

"You don't know Avery, and you wouldn't do that to Abraxas."

I smirked and chuckled once, "I guess you really are as clever as they say."

He smirked proudly, but I could tell he was pretending to be modest, "I'm sure most of what you heard has been exaggerated."

I glanced up at him, "Lets hope so."

He stayed silent and walked with me to the Quidditch Field; he waited a minute before asking, "Why are we here?"

"Well," I smirked, "you're here because you followed me."

He rolled his eyes, "Okay, why are you here?"

I rolled onto my tiptoes, stood like that for thirty seconds, and then rolled back onto my heels like I was standing before. "Where do they keep their brooms?"

"Why?"

I used my right hand to put my hood back on and started to walk to the nearest locker room entrance, "Take a wild guess."

He laughed and followed me; "You've never rode a broom?"

"Nope," I laughed in my head, "The price of home schooling."

He half smirked, half smiled and walked up to my left side. He looked down at my left arm and said, "How are you going to learn how to ride a broom with an injured arm?"

I didn't let his comment phase me, "I don't have an injured arm."

He lightly flicked the inside of my left elbow. I clenched my teeth immediately after a small, quiet, but still pain filled sigh rushed out of my mouth. He smirked, "You're right, it's not injured."

My head snapped up to look at him, "How did you know that? I haven't told anyone, I haven't spoken of it at all."

"Not true," his voice was silky, soft, sweet, "You told Nalo."

I stopped walking and turned ninety degrees so that I can face him; he did the same. "You leave my brother alone."

He innocently tilted his head to the left and put a curious and hurt look on his face, "We've only talked once."

I mentally patted myself on the back for telling Nalo not to talk about the real way we came here, or anything about our real lives. "It better stay that way."

The right corner of Tom's lips twitched into a devious smirk, "Why? You don't think," he lightly patted the area of his chest above his heart, "I would hurt him, do you?"

I drew in a deep breath through my nose, tilted my head back a little bit, and replied, "I will not engage in some twisted word game with you, Tom. You leave my brother alone; if I have to tell you twice, I won't be telling you with my words." I turned and continued to walk to the doors of the locker room. Tom magically unlocked it before I could take my wand out; I looked at him over my shoulder, "Surely you know that Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn."

Tom quietly laughed and closed the umbrella. After a moment of awkward silence, Tom watched me look for a broom closet and asked, "How did you injure your arm?"

I sighed, "Bozzi was teaching Bueno and I the new strength exercises; he doesn't have a lot of time anymore, so half of the work outs and practices are our responsibility to instruct to the team."

Tom stayed silent.

"I'm no good with barbells, I never hold them completely straight, and the last few exercises were with a barbell. Bueno is pretty much Superman and loaded up his bar to fifty pounds, but my limit is twenty."

Tom was quiet for thirty seconds, "And?"

I sighed for no real reason, "And Bueno told me that barbell exercises don't start to count unless you use at least thirty pounds. I told him to shut up and that he's wrong, but he told me that I'm a weenie, so I used thirty five pounds to shut him up."

"That's how you hurt your arm?"

I shrugged, "The set became more of a get through it thing than anything else; predictably, I had bad form, mostly on my left side, and now I'm paying the price."

Tom walked over to a locker and opened it. I rolled my eyes when I saw that locker opened to a large storage area. I followed him in, walked past a trunk with the Quidditch balls, ignored the uniforms and protective padding, and looked at all the brooms. He took down a sleek, black broom and handed it to me. "Here, Abraxas won't mind."

I laughed, "I'm sure he'll be ecstatic to hear I rode something of his."

Tom laughed and took down a shiny, dark green broom. He looked at me and said, "Padding is for weenies."

I breathed out loudly through my nose, "Hah hah hah."

Tom snickered, "Would you like me to teach you how to ride?"

I smirked, walked out of the storage area and called back at him, "I know how to ride, but I'd like to learn how to use a magical broom."

Tom was quiet for a long minute before he howled with laughter and followed me out. He gently closed the locker door behind him and followed me onto the field. Once on the field, I turned to face him and watched as he walked up to me. He stopped five feet in front of me and put the broom down on his right side; I did the same. He looked into my eyes and said, "You have to be able to call the broom off of the floor and into your hand." We put our hands to the side and above our brooms at the same time; I concentrated on the broom and got it into my hand the first try. I smirked when I realized my broom flew into my hand a second before Tom's broom flew into his. The slightest bit of anger was in his eyes, "Yours is probably heavier."

He snapped, "Don't patronize me, I'm doing you a favor."

A small wave of fear washed over me while his face quickly softened from his previously angry look. I whispered out, "Sorry."

He drew in a deep breath, "It's okay. Now, watch and do as I do."

"Okay." He lifted his right leg and stepped over the broom and sat on it. He was three feet off of the ground and relaxing on the broom within two seconds time. I did the same, but I couldn't get the broom to hover. I hopped to his left and put my hands towards the top of the broom the same way he did. I rose off the ground about two inches but then came back down. I sighed and looked up at him. "How do I…? I don't know, do what you're doing?"

He smirked, "Just concentrate, it's the same concept as lifting it into your hand."

I sighed, closed my eyes, and put all my energy into lifting myself off of the ground. After a few minutes, I could feel myself rising off of the ground; I excitedly opened my eyes just to find Tom's right hand squeezing the area of the broom in between my hands. My excitement immediately left me, especially when I turned my head to the left to see him smirking. Before I could say anything to him, he let go and watched as I slowly descended to three inches off of the ground. I sighed angrily and mumbled out, "This blows."

Tom chuckled and said, "Giving up already, Miss Hippogriff?"

I playfully glared up at him, got off the broom, and gently laid it down. "Come down here, please."

Tom sighed while smirking and lowered himself to just six inches off of the ground. I put my hands on the broom, my left behind his left, and my right behind his right. He looked at me curiously while I straddled the area of the broom in front of him. Since he's much taller than me, he can easily see over me, so sitting in front of him caused him no problems. His cool breath against my neck made me shiver; he breathed into my right ear, "What are you doing?"

I gulped before softly replying, "Learning."

He chuckled and stood up straight; his chest just barely brushed against my back. He adjusted his hands and slowly brought us several hundred feet into the air. I gulped and mindlessly scooted back into him for safety. He chuckled at my fear and slowly flew us to the nearest Quidditch hoops. "Do you know the basics of Quidditch?"

I forced myself to not look down and quietly replied, "Yes."

"Good, then I won't waste our time in the stadium."

"Wha—?"

He quickly flew nose down towards the grass of the Quidditch field; I shrieked and gripped his forearms. He laughed at me and flew us into the locker room, "Grab the umbrella."

My breathing was fast and labored, so I didn't bother talking, I just grabbed the thing. He slowly flew us out of the locker room and told me, "Open up the umbrella, I don't want to get wet."

I gulped and did so; as we flew past Abraxas' broom I said, "We need to put that away."

Tom rolled his eyes, stopped flying and just had us hovering, and pointed his wand at Abraxas' broom. He preformed a spell so that the broom would fly back into the storage area of the Slytherin locker room. I relaxed as he gradually brought us into a much faster speed. I said just barely over the wind, "Thanks."

He nodded and brought us several hundred feet into the air. I slid my left hand off of his left forearm and onto the wood of the broom while holding the umbrella mainly over him. I held my breath, quickly pulled my hood over my head, and then put my hand back down on the broom. I gulped while he speedily flew us over the Black Lake, but he stopped and had us hover before we got half way past it. "Your anxiety is making it difficult for me to fly us. Let go of the broom."

My whole body stiffened; I looked at him over my right shoulder, "Let go?"

"Yes."

"I'll fly off!"

He smirked and rolled his eyes, "Just hold onto something else."

I glared at him for a minute, looked back in front of us, and then gripped his left knee. He tensed for a second, but then quietly laughed. I leaned into him for comfort and drew in a deep breath while he started to fly again. We were silent for a while, mostly because the wind was too loud to talk over, but he eventually brought us to a nice, medium speed. I sighed while he said, "You and your friends are very… odd."

I laughed, "Thank you."

"Where are you from?"

I bit the inside of my left cheek, "The states."

"Which one?"

"Illinois, northeastern Illinois."

Tom quietly thought to himself before saying, "Chicago?"

I nodded rather proudly, "Yea, we be from Chi-City."

He gave me an inquisitive look, "Do they teach you grammar in Chi-City?"

I laughed and looked up at him, "Our schools do, our hoods don't."

"Hoods?"

I gave him an inquisitive look, "Our projects, our ghettos—"

"Oh, where did you get 'hood'?"

"It's a shortening of 'neighborhood'."

"Oh."

I stayed silent, but I could feel Tom's eyes studying my face and then outfit. "You Americans dress rather oddly."

I shrugged, "Not really. If you go you'll see most of us are pretty classy."

Tom smirked crookedly, "And yet you and your friends are not?"

I shrugged again, "We clean up nicely; besides, the hood and classy aren't synonymous."

Tom laughed and flew in circles above the Black Lake.

"Where are you from?" I already know, but it seems like I should ask him.

"England."

"Surprising."

I laughed and he just smirked and rolled his eyes, "I live in an orphanage during the summers."

I breathed in deeply, "I'm sorry."

He snapped, "Don't be."

I leaned the slightest bit away from him, "Okay."

He made the broom fly faster, but I'm not scared or anxious anymore. "I've lived there my whole life, it's nothing new."

I quietly sighed, "Just because you've adjusted to living there doesn't mean you like living there."

"I didn't say I like it."

"Then don't beat around the bush, if you hate it, say so."

He sighed angrily, "I hate it, but that's no concern or business of yours."

"Neither is asking my little brother things any business of yours."

He was quiet for thirty seconds; he smirked again, "Touché."

I laughed and then asked him, "So, how do I fly one of these things?"

He leaned forward and just barely rested his chest against my back. "Put your hands on the broom like mine."

I closed the umbrella and tucked it underneath my right arm, and then I did so.

"Don't think," he paused for a second, "at all."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Just feel it; this is flying, not a class, it's just flying."

I drew in a deep breath and squeezed the broom like he was.

He whispered in my left ear, "Don't be scared," and immediately let go of the broom. A short, but loud scream came from me as we quickly descended ten or so feet, but I immediately cleared my mind and just pictured flying, making us hover. Tom laughed at me and slid the umbrella out from under my arm, opened it, and held it above him. I drew in a deep breath and leaned forward from the waist. I stared at the scenery in front of me and started to slowly circle around the Black Lake; I made the mistake of looking down and gulped. His silky, relaxing voice drifted into my ears, "Don't worry, I'm here if you fail."

I laughed, "Thanks."

He grinned, "You're welcome."

My circles gradually became faster; I decided that I am now an expert and made us go much, much faster. Have you ever played Guitar Hero or Rock Band? If you have, have you ever completed the first level, "Easy", and decided that you're awesome at the game and skipped on ahead to "Expert" just to immediately fail miserably? That's the mentality I had with flying. Tom almost grabbed onto the broom, but realized that if he did so he'd probably fling us off of the broom, so he gripped my waist and said, "Slow down."

I was high from the cool air whipping my face and the feeling of empowerment from flying the broom, "Why?"

His grip started to hurt, "You're going dangerously fast."

I laughed, "Don't be a weenie."

He tightened his grip so fast and so hard that I cried out from the pain and immediately slowed down. He stopped hurting me with his grip, but not by much. I angrily flew us to the Quidditch field and landed us by the Slytherin locker room. I slapped his hands off me and slid off the broom once our feet were firmly on the ground. I put my hoodie back up and speedily walked away instead of accompanying him to the storage area to put away the broom. I sprinted away as soon as I was out of the sports ground; I didn't want him to catch up with me, and I didn't want to talk to him.

I rushed into the castle and went directly into the Gryffindor common room. I saw Nalo and didn't give him a chance to protest or deny my hug. "Karma!" He shouted; he's with his new friends, so I probably just embarrassed him. I let go of him and squatted down,

"Nalo,"

He quietly looked at me.

"Do you remember an older boy talking to you? Tom Riddle?"

"The Slytherin guy?"

"Yes, dark hair, dark eyes, very tall?"

"Yeah," he nodded his head up and down three times.

"Don't talk to him again, okay? He's not actually a nice guy."

"But you talk to him."

I sighed; I've argued with Nalo too many times to think he's just going to listen to me. "That's because I know how to handle someone that manipulative, you don't—"

"But—"

"I don't care," I snapped, but not harshly, "Just listen to me, okay? Be polite, but don't let him talk you into a real conversation, okay?"

He pressed his lips together and squished them to the right after saying, "Okay."

I stood back up, "I'm going to go talk to Lauren, be smart and safe, okay?"

"Okay."

We smiled at each other as I walked away and up the stairs to my shared dorm.