Chapter Text
Harry craned his neck to look down the queue.
It had not decreased in the slightest.
His legs ached, and on a whim, he propped himself up on the railing separating the people who’d paid for express—not that it was doing him much good at the moment—from those who hadn’t.
A woman on the other side huffed. He turned to look at her; she was already facing him, looking annoyed.
“It’s not illegal,” Harry defended himself.
She rolled her eyes.
A chorus of groans reached his ears—the express gate was open. Harry hopped down, shot the woman a smug look and marched right past her, right to the front—
Only to be stopped by a stretched arm.
“Really?” he sputtered. “I’m just the one person!”
“Sorry, sir, it’s full,” the attendant said, entirely unemotional.
A tinkling laugh—it was the woman.
He stuck his tongue out at her.
He watched sulkily, longingly, as the people on the pendulum shrieked.
His outrage only grew when the express gate wasn’t opened the next time and the regular one was.
The woman was beside him again, right up at the front.
“I’ve been here for almost two hours,” she said scathingly. “You barely have twenty minutes under your belt. I’d stop with the dramatics.”
He knew he was privileged enough to be able to pay for express, that he’d been standing here for a lot less time than most of these people. . .
But still.
“I want my money’s worth,” he told her.
She tapped her chin mockingly. “Your money’s worth? Bet you’re a trust vault baby.”
He started. Trust vault?
Only wizards used words such as that.
He glanced around to see everyone was occupied with taking selfies or chattering and lowered his voice: “You’re a witch?”
She stiffened. “That’s not very nice, calling me names like that,” she said casually.
He shrugged. “Just use a Silencio then.”
She peered at him, suspicion melting away. “You’re--? What are the odds of that?”
“My best friend is the arithmancer, not me,” he laughed.
“I wasn’t actually asking you to calculate them,” she rolled her eyes. “I doubt you’d be capable of that anyway.”
“I’ll have you know, I took arithmancy,” he informed her.
“So did I, and didn’t you just claim not to be an arithmancer?”
“Touche,” he allowed.
They watched as the pendulum swung one way. “Do you think it makes the round 180 degrees?” she asked suddenly.
“As you just pointed out, I am not an arithmancer.”
She rolled her eyes again; he feared they were going to fall out her head and told her as much. She repeated the motion even more forcefully.
“I think anyone with eyes can tell that,” she said.
He pointed at his specs. “Too bad my eyes are defective too.”
She let out a reluctant laugh—less beautiful and airy than the natural one he’d heard not so long ago, but enough to make his heart flutter.
Which was annoying.
Sirius would never let him live it down if he managed to fall in love during his best friend’s engagement party.
Nor would his parents or siblings, as a matter of fact, but his godfather would be the worst, undoubtedly.
It was too hasty and ridiculous to talk about things like falling in love, he reassured himself. So he liked the way she laughed. So what?
It was undoubtedly, uncontradictably pretty.
That didn’t mean anything.
He sighed in relief as the express gate was opened and people pressed into his back, eager to get to the front.
He shot one last look at the woman, and then hurriedly dropped his glasses and sling bag into the baggage rack. ‘Leave at your own risk’, the sign said, but he doubted anyone would be interested in his mirror and phone and glasses.
He was dying of anticipation by the time he was sat in one of the seats. He tugged on the security bar, impatient for the ride to begin.
That was why he didn’t notice the woman dropping down on the one next to him.
“Scared?” she asked, and he jumped.
She laughed again, and he would die before admitting it got better every time he managed to make it happen. “I see you’re getting a headstart on the ride.”
“This isn’t the Sudden Drop, it’s the pendulum,” he pointed out sullenly, settling back in. “And I should be asking if you’re scared.”
“Why? Because I’m a girl?” Her voice was bitter.
“No,” he said, bewildered. What did that have to do with anything? His sister Lissy loved flying as much as he did. It was their brother who was ambivalent towards it—the oddity in their family. “I mean because you’ve had the longer waiting time.”
She relaxed. Obviously, this was a sore topic for her.
The attendant came around, tugging the bars down and securing the belts. He pulled on his and was alarmed to find that it shifted.
“Hey!” he called, to no avail. “Hi, Miss!”
“What’s wrong?” the woman asked.
“My bar’s moving,” he fretted.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” she dismissed. “They can’t run this without some safety commission looking over everything, right?”
“I guess,” he said doubtfully, but his heart was pounding as the ride started.
Over the yells, she raised her voice, asking: “Want me to hold your hand?”
“No thanks,” he tried to say but it was lost in the wind as they swung.
Harry couldn’t help his exhilarated laugh as they swung right at the ground, him facing it. It was almost exactly like diving on a broom, and it was amazing how muggles had come up with this.
What he wasn’t used to, however, was the constant swinging, and the almost unseating.
When they reached the top and went down, he couldn’t help but scream as he felt himself jump in his seat.
It probably wasn’t that grave, but it felt like he might have been free-falling any minute.
And it actually likely reached the full one-eighty, so his chances of survival weren’t great if that happened.
Safety commission, he reminded himself of the woman’s words, letting himself enjoy the ride instead of worrying.
He closed his eyes sometimes, reveling in the feeling of flying without having to be in control of his broom.
He would definitely have to bring Lissy to one of these.
All too soon, it was coming to an end, and the pendulum’s angle and period reduced to miniscule.
He stumbled off the ride as the attendant came around, clicking them out of their seats. Dazedly, still grinning wildly, he reached for his glasses and shoved them up his nose.
“I heard you scream,” the woman teased as they exited.
He didn’t know how, because it had been impossible to hear anything unless you were really paying attention.
“No, you didn’t,” he told her, heart jumping more than in the ride when she laughed again.
Yeah, he was in trouble.