Bewitched

Ramona blinked up at Cohen blankly for a moment, unable to speak as her mate demanded an explanation. Ramona sighed and looked away, pulling slightly against his hold but not enough to free herself. She was very embarrassed but refused to let her cheeks grow rosey or reply but whether he knew or not it felt good to have someone familiar around her right now. It was easier to come back down from her near panic.

"I'm fine" Ramona said dismissively, dropping her gaze and pulling again but this time with effort, twisting so he'd let go. She brought up her hands to her face and rubbed it roughly before lightly slapping her cheeks. "I just . . . I don't know" Ramona again dismissed the subject and turned towards her locker, taking extra long to work the lock. She eventually opened it, but instead of grabbing her bag, she stared at her broom, a picture of Ramona, Cohen and Dom staring back at her laughing obnoxiously, the two girls hanging off Cohen. Ramona smiled a little at that and reached out, her hand sliding over the soft wood of her broom. A ride would be nice right now.

Ramona looked back at Cohen a little surprised at what he was offering. She knew about his brother, how the poor lad had died on a broom and Cohen's fear of flying. It was the reason he never came anywhere near a broom, not even to the quidditch games. Why would he want to watch her ride? Ramona's hand tightened around the body of her broom and she brought it out of her locker, leaning it carefully against the crimson painted metal. Her dark eyes studied Cohen intensely flickering over his form then back up to his face reading it. He was scared, that was obvious, but there was something else, something earnest in his eyes that let Ramona know he wasn't kidding.

Ramona glanced over to the door that lead to the pitch and she could already feel herself in the air diving and spinning, her stress and nerves melting away under the winds calming ministrations. When she was in the air, it was just her body, even her thoughts got left behind, and she needed that right now. She gripped her broom again in one hand, hard and determined like she was about to walk out to play a round.

"Let's go then." Ramona said evenly even though she really wanted to say thank you. Ramona may not come off as especially empathetic or understanding but Cohen was one of her two best mates, she knew him nearly as well as she knew quidditch. Or at least she liked to think so. Though she almost reached out to pull him along, Ramona refrained and walked out past Cohen towards the pitch. She was greeted with fresh air that tingled her skin. She looked back over her shoulder at Cohen her eyes softening momentarily as she quickly became resoaked with rain.

"You don't have to watch if you don't want too." Ramona relented. She was going to fly whether or not he watched, the call was to strong, she needed to breath. Not just inhale and exhale shallow breathes, reused and recycled by others, but really, truly breathe, let her lungs expand till they hurt with icy crisp air and the only place she could do that was in the air.

"Okay." Ramona agreed after a tense moment of silence passed between them. She turned away from Cohen then, walking out onto the field, her domain. Despite her not even being in the air yet, Ramona could already feel the beginnings of adrenaline igniting her blood. She broke from her brisk walk into a run before leaping into the air. In that first brief moment of being airborne, Ramona pulled her broom underneath her, propelling her up into air.

In no time at all Ramona was soaring above the stands, wind and rain whipping at her skin painfully, but she paid it no mind. She needed to clear her head, she needed to get over herself. God, she was still so embarrassed, why did she think bringing Cohen would help anything? Cohen couldn't change what her mother had done to her and no matter how much faith she had in his abilities, she knew he couldn't just expel a deep rooted fear. Ramona shook her head, trying to clear it and took a deep breathe of icy air. Her fingers were digging into the wood of her broom to the point of pain due to her own building anger, Anger at herself but also her god forsaken mother who had fucked her over for what seemed would be her entire bloody life.

This anger Ramona felt while deep and burning was not new. There had always been bad relations between Ramona and her mother, the woman was insane. She was the supreme of drama queens and her bipolar anger, constant disappearances and reappearances from the lives of her husband and children, and abusive tendencies did nothing but drive Ramona further over the edge.

"Jesus." Ramona sighed into the wind, rubbing her face again before  she let herself fall to the side, her favorite trick but even that wasn't making Ramona feel any better. In under thirty minutes her emotions had gone from competitive, panicked, embarrassed, to angry and it just made her feel tired. Focus, Ramona told herself as she righted her position on her broom.  

She looked down the pitch to see Cohen, a teeny figure against the deep green grass and realized she was a lot higher than she should be. It could be dangerous to fly as high as she was flying as it was easier for one to get swept up in a crosswind. Ramona bent the nose of her broom down, diving before she began to spiral, the winds knocking her and competing with the beater for control of her broom. Ramona grinned, beginning to feel the full rejuvenating, make-it-all-better feelings of flying rise in her chest. She got close to the ground before she roughly pulled up, daringly avoiding a crash, she soared back into the air and her stomach rose, a smile finally breaking her face as she threw her hands up and felt her broom barrel beneath her, putting her upside down. She righted herself with a light laugh before flying slower and closer to the ground so she could pull up beside Cohen. His face was still tense, probably with worry, but she was fine and a very proficient rider if she said so herself. She wondered if there was anything she could do to get him on with her.

"Ready to saddle up cowboy." Ramona said with a playful, exaggerated wink, planting her feet firmly on the ground, but keeping the broom between her legs. "I made room just for you."

"Apparently not good enough." Ramona said off offhandedly, a dark eyebrow raising, "I've been on brooms more than I've been on my feet, Cohen, I know what I'm doing." Ramona understood his fear to some degree, but at the same time she wanted him to trust her. She knew what fear could do, it could cripple people and if he wanted to be an aurora, well he'd need to fly. Floos aren't everywhere after all. In Ramona's opinion it would be better he ride with her than himself and possibly panic.

"How do you expect to defeat dark wizards if you can't get on a broom?" Ramona pressed straightening her back. "It's not like I'm sending you up by yourself, I'll be there, I'll be controlling it." Ramona frowned and wondered what else she could say to try to convince him. She knew if she prodded his pride, perhaps he'd agree but it seemed a bit of a low blow.

"What if I dare you?" asked Ramona, a grin attempting to spread on her face, "No! Double-dog dare you. You can't back done from that, well unless you're absolutely petrified that is. But if you do, well then we agree that I am the braver and stronger one." Ramona smirked, knowing Cohen could never let her have that title, after all just look how wounded his ego was after she beat him in arm wrestling.