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Hermione gripped the wall like her life depended on it, watching with growing paranoia as numerous other people of varying ages sped past her with confidence. This felt like a mistake. A very big mistake. Mere minutes later, a crowd had gathered in the center of the ice for group warmup. She was still clinging to the wall.  

"Level One I presume?" A young man approached her, startling her briefly out of her panic.  

"Uh. Yeah. I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted. The man was wearing a knee length blue puffer jacket, which identified him as a coach.  

"Then you're in the right place, my dear." He glanced down at the name tag she had clipped to her jumper. "Yes, Hermione. I recognize that name from my class roster. I'm Coach Remus. And I can give you a hand, if you'd like. We're not too far from our section of the rink." 

Coach Remus held his hand out. Hesitantly, Hermione removed one hand from the wall and grasped her coach's outstretched one.  

He smiled warmly. "You're halfway there. Go ahead and let go. I've got you." 

Hermione took a deep breath and slowly uncurled her fingers, reaching for Coach Remus's hand immediately.  

"Excellent, Hermione!" He encouraged. "I don't want you to try to glide yet. Let's start with marching, okay?"  

Hermione barely lifted her right foot off the ice before she felt her left foot slipping. She started panicking.  

"I've got you.” Remus encouraged, gripping her firmly. “I won't let you fall. You can put as much of your weight on me as you need to. Here." He slid his hands up her forearms, holding on just before her elbows. "This should help you feel a little bit more stable." 

"I don't suppose I can start class with the skater aid?" She joked nervously.  

"That's why you're in class, my dear." She was moving so slowly. Slow enough she was growing impatient with her own pace. They stopped about a meter away from the rink entrance, right as the music playing over the loudspeakers ceased and the large crowd of skaters dispersed in varying directions.  

"That's a girl. You can hold on to the wall for now. We'll get started once the rest of your class has gathered."  

Hermione gripped the wall again tightly with both hands, her back turned to the rink. This was a good spot. She could grasp the wall with her entire hand since there was no window on this part of the wall. She twisted her torso to watch as other skaters moved across the ice, including her brother and best friend.  

"You made it on the ice!" Harry cheered as he stumbled toward her. Neville was now being assisted by Coach Remus. 

"Why am I doing this? I think I've gone crazy. That's the only way I could have ever thought this was a good idea," Hermione said as a greeting, watching the puff of her breath in the cold air.  

"I've been asking the same question!" Neville complained as he gripped the wall next to her. "I just keep reminding myself, this is better than team sports. If I don't do this, I have to take team sports at school." 

"Relax you guys. It's going to be fun!" Harry said enthusiastically. Hermione resisted the urge to smack her brother. She and Neville were here as a requirement. Harry had decided to join the class for fun. 

Coach Remus went through the list of names. There were only seven of them and Hermione was torn between gratefulness and anxiety. On the one hand, a small class meant she could have help if she needed it. On the other hand, a small class meant she couldn't just hide behind Harry the entire lesson.  

"Good morning! I'm Coach Remus. How are we this morning?"  

A few of them mumbled a chorus of "good."  

But Hermione's attention had been pulled away by a blond teenager jumping over the wall next to her. Showoff, she thought.  

"Coach Albus sent me here to assist," he explained to the coach with arrogant confidence.  

"Wonderful, Draco. We're just starting." 

Coach Remus turned his attention back to the seven students lined up against the wall. "Most of you look a bit nervous?"  

Hermione nodded along with Neville and a red head boy on Harry's side, Ron.  

"No need to worry. We're going to start easy and I encourage everyone to move at their own pace. How do we all feel walking in skates off ice?" 

"Off ice is easy! It's on the ice that's terrifying!" Ron exclaimed.  

Despite her attempts to keep her attention on the coach, her gaze kept straying to the late arrival. He had smirked at Ron's comment. How rude!  

"Then the good news is, you've already passed the preschool level one!" Coach Remus teased. "I won't pull you too far off the wall, today. I want to start with safety basics. So, we're going to start talking about our skates. The boot of your skate should be comfortable. If your feet are hurting or feel squished, your boots might be too tight. If you feel like your feet are slipping, your boots might be too loose. I also recommend looking into buying your own skates because you'll have better success in skates that aren’t borrowed. And if you buy them in the store here, they can help you fit them properly. So, I want you to do a quick assessment on the fit of your skate. Can you wiggle your toes without discomfort?"  

Hermione looked down at her feet, even though she couldn't see the toes beneath the boot. She wiggled her toes but because the boot of the skate was so much thicker than her normal trainers, she couldn't even tell her toes were moving.  

"Excellent! Next, I want you to see if you can move your ankle." He pointed to the feet of the boy standing next to him. It was Draco, right? "You should not be able to move your ankles. If your ankles move at all they're too loose."  

Hermione tried to move her feet. They felt tight enough.  

"If we're all feeling good about the fit of our skates we're going to practice our first skill. We're going to practice falling."  

"Um. I don't think I need to practice that. I'm a bit too good at that," Neville declared.  

Coach Remus chuckled good humoredly. "What we're practicing, Mr. Neville, is falling safely. If you feel like you're losing your balance, you're going to grab your knees. What you don't want to do," he continued, his gaze sweeping across all of them. "Is start flailing. Because if you start frantically waving your arms around, what's going to happen?" He started waving his arms around, as if off balance, rocking slightly backward. 

"You're going to fall backwards," Hermione answered.  

Coach Remus pointed at her. "Correct. Falling is going to happen. That's just part of learning. The important part is that we fall to the side or forward. Never backward. Falling backward could injure your tailbone and most importantly, your head. So! When you feel like you're going to fall, you're going to grab your knees. Draco, can you get a bit of speed and show them what that looks like?"  

Hermione watched the blond teenager skate in front of the coach and a few glides back before gliding forward on one foot, then the other, and then bringing his legs together and grabbing his knees.  

"Thank you, Coach Draco,” Remus nodded to the teen. “Grabbing our knees does a few different things. One, if you go to grab your knees and still fall, which direction are you going to fall in?" 

"Forward," Harry answered.  

"Yes, Mr. Harry. You'll fall forward. Two, to grab your knees, you have to bend them. And the lower you are to the ground the easier it is to regain your balance. Three, this position is going to slow down your momentum safely. And four, bending your knees realigns your center of gravity. Understand?" 

The class nodded.  

"Excellent. Then I want you to try that now. Bend your knees and grab them with your hands." 

Hermione felt unsteady as she tried to squat down to grab her knees. How was she supposed to bend her knees if she couldn't bend her ankles? She could feel her entire body shaking slightly as she lowered herself into a squat, gripping her knees tightly.  

"Great work!" Remus cheered with an encouraging grin. "You can go ahead and stand back up. Grab the wall if you need a moment." As he was speaking, Neville slipped, flailing his arms, only catching himself barely by grabbing on to the wall behind him.  

"That was an excellent save, Mr. Neville. But remember, if you feel off balance, grab your knees. No flailing. But. Say you are already too far forward to regain your balance. Hands forward," he demonstrated. "Hands forward, curl your fingers in. That way, if someone skates by, they aren't going to get your fingers. Draco?" 

Once again, the teenager in front of them lowered into a squatted position to grab his knees then fell forward, hitting the ice with loose fists before lowering himself the rest of the way down.  

Coach Remus turned to them again. "Now, you try."  

Hermione stood frozen in place, watching as her classmates lowered themselves to the ice. Well, Neville actually had fallen, no pretending needed. But it was a smooth enough fall, he'd once again received praise from the coach. "Great fall, Neville! That's how we want to fall every time." 

"Think you're above basic skills?" Draco was standing in front of her, his arms crossed, a smirk on his face.  

"No! But I don't want to fall!"  

Draco scoffed. "That's the point," he glanced down at her name tag. "Hermione. Go on," he gestured smugly.  

She glared at him as she slowly lowered herself to her knees. But as she did so, the toe pick of her skate got caught, and she lost her balance, falling forward and landing harder than intended. She noticed her hands were spread in front of her, so she curled her fingers in. "That was a good save, Hermione," Remus encouraged. "Take a minute to catch your breath."  

Hermione rolled from her knees to settle on her bum, trying to breathe away the feeling of embarrassment. Especially as Draco seemed to still be watching her.  

"Now that you're down on the ice, to get back up, you're going to do the opposite of how we got down here. Reverse head, shoulders, knees, and toes, if you will. Anchor the foot that is the most comfortable to you first. You can keep your hands on the ground until you get balanced on both feet. Then, move your hands up to your knees, and once you're stable there, you can stand all the way back up." Again, Draco demonstrated for them. "Your turn!" Remus exclaimed, gesturing to the group. 

Hermione was terribly frustrated. School was easy. Reading was easy. Math was easy. Science was easy. History was easy. Ballet had been easy until she'd gone off and busted her ankle. But this? This was hard. Struggling was humiliating.  

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked, taking haphazard steps, catching on the toe pick of his skate and falling forward. He laughed, but sobered when he saw her expression. "Are you hurt?" 

She shook her head no but didn't answer verbally, lest her voice betray her.  

Great. And now everyone was staring at her.  

Coach Remus skated toward her and squat down to her level. "Are you okay?" Draco was flanking him, staring down at her as well, though his face was unreadable. 

Again, Hermione nodded, keeping her gaze locked on the ice.  

"Draco, have them take a few steps away from the wall and practice falling and getting back up again, please." 

Draco turned on his toe and glided away. "Alright, you lot. We're going to move out from the wall a few paces and practice fall and recovery again." 

Coach Remus ducked his head to meet her gaze. "Are you okay, Hermione? You aren't hurt?" 

"Just my ego," she sighed, swiping a gloved hand across her eyes.  

"If you can try at least once to stand up, we only have about fifteen minutes left of class. You can be done for the day." 

"Okay," she whispered.  

He coached her through the steps as she did them. "Anchor whichever foot you feel most comfortable with. Once you feel stable, go ahead and get up on the second foot too. Keep your hands on the ice until you feel balanced. Good job. Then hands to your toes and slowly bring them up to your knees. Excellent. Then all the way up." He caught her hands and helped her get to the wall. "You did very well. You should be proud of yourself, Hermione." He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.  

Coach Remus skated back to the rest of her class, coming to a stop next to Draco. The teenager was staring at her as the coach spoke to him. Whoever this kid was, she was filled with deep disdain for him.  

She turned back around to face the wall. This was a mistake. Ice skating was clearly not something she could do. Maybe she could review her options; see what else the physical therapist recommended.  

"I'm going to help you off the ice, Hermione," she heard the other teen say.  

"Lovely," she scoffed. "How lucky for me." 

He rolled his eyes but held out his arms toward her. "Grab on to my forearm. That'll keep you a bit more stable than just taking my hands."  

Hermione hesitated, keeping her grip against the wall. "I'm not going to let you fall. But you have to get off the ice somehow. Better to start now so you can take it slow." 

She hated to admit it, but he had a point. One arm at a time, she grasped his arms as he had instructed. "How come you get to boss people around?" she pouted. "You're my age." 

He smirked. "I saw your birth year on the roster. I know that's not true. The black jacket with the arena's logo doesn't give it away?" 

"No." 

He rolled his eyes again. "I get to boss people around because I know what I'm doing. I'm a junior coach. My job is to help coaches teach classes. And lucky for you, coach one on one when needed." 

"So lucky," she snarked. 

He laughed. "Your first problem. You're trying to glide. You don't know how. You need to pick up your feet. Keep your toes slightly turned out and march. If you want the toddler talk, pretend you're a penguin." 

Hermione glared at him. "I'm sixteen. Not six." 

"Then show me you can take critique, Miss Sixteen. March. Keep your knees bent. Lift your skate off the ice one foot at a time." 

Hermione glanced down, making sure her knees were bent. Slight first position, slight plie. She could do this. But when she lifted her foot, she felt herself falling forward.  

Draco caught her. "Stop looking at your feet. If you're looking down and your shoulders are hunched forward, where do you think you're going to go?" 

"Down," she sneered.  

He smirked, clearly enjoying her attitude. "Correct. And you've already informed me that's not something you want to do. So, keep your face looking up. You might have to look at my face. I’m not Medusa; It's not going to kill you." 

She set her gaze forward, locked on the logo of his puffer jacket. She refused to look at his stupid face. She didn't realize she had successfully marched until she was at the rink entrance. "So, pissing you off is the best way to motivate you," he smirked. 

He held on to her until she was safely off the ice. "Later, Hermione." 

Her skates were already off when Harry and Neville came back to the spot where they'd left their belongings.  

"I already feel like I'm getting better," Harry said, flopping into the empty chair. "Remus is a great coach!" 

"Agreed he's a good coach. But I don't think I can do this," Hermione sighed.  

"You can't leave me!" Neville almost shouted. "I can't do this by myself, Herms." 

While Harry and Neville were removing their skates and changing back into their trainers, Hermione was people watching. She spotted a blond head across the way, flirting with a dark-haired girl who looked more like she was about to perform and not like she'd just been assistant coaching.  

"What an arrogant prick! That kid was bossing me around the entire time. What does he know?" 

Neville shrugged. "I mean, he seemed pretty knowledgeable to me. Even if he was bossy." 

"I don't particularly like him," Harry added. "But I didn't really have to interact with him much either. Seems like he prefers to taunt the ones who—" 

"Who aren't very good. You can say it, Harry. I know. I suck."  

Draco was off the ice now, talking with a group of coaches.  

"You know, you sure seem very interested in him, for someone who hates his guts," Harry teased.  

"I'm not interested in him!" she screeched, turning on her brother. "I don't like that he's such a know it all. He's just a teenager like me. It's annoying." 

Complaining about Junior Coach Draco had become a weekly occurrence for Hermione. Listening to Hermione's complaining had become a weekly occurrence for Harry and Neville and their new friend Ron.  

Ron shared Hermione's hatred. "I've always thought him to be an arse. He was in classes with my brother George. Even as a student, he was a know-it-all."  

"Not making me feel any better, Ron."  

He grinned. "Sorry, Hermione."  

Her friends and brother were all improving. Harry was moving through the level one skills rapidly. A natural, Coach Remus had called him. Neville and Ron were both struggling but making progress. Hermione could still barely glide on two feet.  

"Let's start with two-foot glides!" Remus smiled at the group. “Take about four marching steps and then two-foot glides forward as long as you can go but at least three seconds. And go!"  

Once again, Hermione was barely marching, wishing desperately she could march along the wall for safety rather than having to march across the width of the ice. She had barely made it halfway across when everyone else had turned around to go back. Confidence shot, she turned around when her friends reached her and snuck back with them.  

When she glanced up, she saw both coaches watching her.  

"Well, I think I see your problem, Miss Hermione. Your skates are too loose. Mr. Draco, can you give her a hand with that?" 

Draco nodded and to Hermione's relief, he unlatched and opened a closer door, directing her into the hockey sidelines. "Did you miss the part of the first class when Remus said you shouldn't be able to move your feet around in the boots?" 

"No, I heard it," she sneered, flopping none too gently onto the metal bench. "But if they're tied any tighter, I'm going to cut off circulation."  

"Really, Nurse Potter?"  

Hermione was puzzled. "What are you talking about?" 

"Oh, just assuming your medical education is higher than mine, since you believe you're an expert on blood circulation." 

As soon as she had seated herself, he'd knelt down, propped the blade of her right skate in between his thighs and set to work tightening the laces.  

"I'm not a nurse. Nor are you." 

"Oh, you’re not a nurse? I'm closer than you are, then." He put her foot back down. "Stand up, I want you to feel the difference." 

Hermione anchored her hands against the bench to push herself up to a standing position. "Oh!" The difference was instantly noticeable. She didn't feel like she was balancing on a kitchen knife anymore.  

"Told you," Draco smirked, voice smug. "Your other foot is wiggling all over the place. And that's why you feel unstable. The boot of your skate should be snug. Not so tight that it hurts, but tight enough that it supports your entire ankle. And these are clearly your own skates, so you'll break them in over time. These aren't your trainers. You can’t treat them like street shoes," He gestured for her to sit back down.  

"They're obviously not pointe shoes either," she whined.  

Draco rolled his eyes. "That explains it. You ballet girls always come in here with terrible habits yet thinking you know everything." 

"Rude! I do not think I know everything. In fact, I've thought about quitting because I don't know anything."  

He looked up at her through his blonde fringe as he picked up her left foot. "You know plenty. You just have bad habits you need to break. Now watch what I'm doing so you can tie them properly yourself next time."  

"You want to start at the toe and pull them taught at every crossover. All the way up. When you get up toward your ankle, you usually need to pull them as tight as you can around the eye hooks. Your laces are a bit long, so you can tuck them in your boot, or you can buy shorter laces." 

He put her foot back down and offered her a hand. Stubbornly, she ignored this gesture.  

Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's see how much easier it is for you now."  

It was the most productive class she had all month. 

Hermione and Neville had arrived to free skate early, so once her skates were laced up (properly), she sat and watched the skaters on the ice. It was clearly an advanced class because they were running drills across the length of the rink.  

Neville leaned over and pointed to a kid at the far end. “Isn’t that Draco?” 

She felt a flutter in her chest and jumped up to get a bit closer. Neville was right. It was Draco. He was chatting alongside the same junior coach she’d seen him flirting with before on their very first week of class. The adult, obviously the coach for the class, gave a direction and the group of teenagers started skating back to the front of the rink. So, Hermione darted back to her chair. She didn’t want it to look like she was watching them. Or like she was interested. Because she wasn’t. 

“Yeah. That’s him.” 

Neville nudged her shoulder, so she turned to meet his gaze. He was giving her a lopsided grin. “Maybe he’ll be on the ice when we are,” he suggested in a teasing tone. 

Hermione scoffed. “I hope not.” 

This made Neville laugh openly. “Sure, you do. Liar. You can lie to our new friends. You can lie to your brother. You can’t lie to me. I’m your best friend, Herms.” 

Because she and Neville were both taking ice skating lessons as a substitute for the school’s team sports credit, they were also excused early for the day to attend free skate sessions. Free skates, unlike public skates they attended with their friends, were private ice times where attendees could work on skills alone, with coaches to assist when needed. Hermione found this was often her most productive time, as she found it easier to skate when she wasn’t being watched so closely.  

“Mr. Draco. Miss Astoria. While I am well aware you two both think quite highly of yourselves now that you are coaching Learn to Skate, you are not coaching my dance class. So, unless you can shut your mouths and pay… attention… you will be dismissed from my ice.” A severe-faced coach with long black hair pulled back into a half-up half down style was lecturing two of his skaters. 

Hermione heard Draco’s familiar, lazy drawl respond. “Last time I checked, Coach Severus, this is public ice. It’s not ‘yours’.” 

The Coach, Severus, apparently, turned and glared, skating so closely he could have pinned him to the wall. “I can still remove you from your competition category, Mr Malfoy. Do not try my patience.” 

The girl next to him, Astoria, perhaps, nudged Draco and then spoke herself. “I’m sorry Coach Severus. We’ll focus from here on out.” 

He held their gazes as he gave his next direction. “Slaloms across the ice. Keep your feet close together and I want to see lilting knee action.”  

Coach Severus took a step back and glanced at the rest of his skaters. “Well? What are you waiting for? A formal invitation? We’ve got ten minutes left. Go!” 

All ten skaters jumped into motion, moving across the ice in pairs of two.  

Hermione sat back and grinned. “God, that was satisfying. Seeing him getting bossed around.” 

“I’m glad we don’t have that coach,” Neville muttered. “He’s more terrifying than my Gran. And she’s pretty bad. What do you suppose a slalom is?” 

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno. Don’t really care either. But the know-it-all has been out-know-it-all’d!” 

“Words spoken by someone who hates a person. Definitely not an obsession born of attraction.” 

Hermione turned her glare on her best friend. 

“Look at you! You’re ready to go and your padding fits you perfectly!” Hermione’s mother Lily exclaimed, joining the two at rink side.  

“I feel so silly though,” Hermione pouted. Her mother had decided to get Hermione some extra protective gear to wear to the ice rink. Both her and Neville now attended classes and free skates with form-fitting head protection (Hermione refused to wear a standard helmet, insisting it threw off her balance), knee pads, elbow pads, and a special pair of shorts that had silicone padding to protect the hips and tail bone. It wasn’t as bulky and stupid looking as what the hockey players wore, but amongst the numerous students in the weekly classes that took to the ice with no such protection, Hermione felt like this extra protective gear made her stand out even more. 

“Hermione, you don’t look silly at all. You can barely see the padding you’re wearing. But your coach recommended it hoping  the padding will give you a little more confidence, so you aren’t so scared of falling.” 

“I do like Remus. He’s a great coach,” Hermione admitted softly. 

“Oh, no. That recommendation came from your other coach. Coach Draco, is it?” 

Neville snorted.  

Hermione turned and glared at him. 

Her mother was confused. “Am I missing something?” 

“No.” Hermione simmered. 

The rink had since been cleared and now the Zamboni was running over it, resurfacing for the next hour of practice. But Hermione felt antsy standing still. So, as she waited, she went through some of her old ballet choreography. It felt clunkier in her figure skates, but it was comforting to remember the steps.  

Despite her feelings of listlessness though, when the doors to the rink were opened to the skaters, Hermione held back.  

Lily wrapped an arm around her in a sideways hug, kissing her on the cheek. “I’m going to go upstairs and read. I know I stress you out when I watch,” Lily explained with a knowing smile. “Have a good practice, love.” 

Lily gave Neville an encouraging pat on the back and then she left.  

Hermione watched her mother climb the stairs that wrapped around the outside window of the rink until she had disappeared from view.  

Neville grabbed Hermione’s hand. “Come on, Hermione. You’ve got this. You get to practice on your own.” 

Hermione sighed. “Right. Practice.” 

Neville stepped on to the ice first, immediately slipping. But he caught himself, landing in the safe position they’d been taught at the start of session weeks earlier. An older woman in the familiar blue coach puffer jacket, skated by. The embroidered name read Minerva “Minnie” McGonagall. “Are you alright, my boy?” 

Neville nodded. “All good.” He turned to Hermione. “Do you want to stay together or do our own thing?”  

“I think I’ll do my own thing today,” she admitted softly, shifting her weight from foot to foot.  

“Alright!” Neville said with a grin. “I’ll see you around then.” He stumbled off around the edge of the rink. He wasn’t progressing through the skills all that quickly either, but he didn’t seem hindered the way she felt. Every time she stepped on to the ice, it felt like a massive show of willpower. 

Coach Minnie was still standing nearby. “Do you need a hand getting on to the ice, my dear?” 

“Um.” Hermione looked around at the other skaters on the ice, already moving confidently. “I guess.” 

Coach Minnie offered her a hand. “Sometimes changing surfaces is scary. It’s okay.” She positioned herself close to the wall, forcing Hermione away from it. “Remember to keep your knees bent. Have you ever watched a toddler learn to walk?” 

Hermione considered this. But in taking her mind off of her feet, she felt herself slipping and she flailed toward the wall. Coach Minnie caught her easily. “If you ever feel unsteady, just remember to grab your knees.” 

Hermione didn’t move for a moment, willing her heart rate to go back down. “Can’t say I’ve watched toddlers learn to walk, no,” she admitted, looking for a distraction that would keep her from crying. 

“Any time a toddler changes surfaces, they fall. Tile to carpet, carpet to tile, concrete to grass. Surface changes take practice. You’ll get there. For now, there is no shame in keeping one hand on the wall until you’re used to that feeling.” 

She rotated to stop in front of Hermione. “I heard you tell your friend you wanted to practice alone, so I’ll leave you to it. But if you need anything, I’ll be around.” Coach Minnie skated away, leaving Hermione alone again. 

Neville skated past. “You okay, Hermione?” he asked.  

“Yeah, I’m alright,” she lied. “Just slow to get started.”  

“Want me to stay with you?” 

She shook her head. “No, you go on, Nev. You’re doing really well. I don’t want to slow you down.” 

Neville skated…kind of…it was more of a stumbled glide…into another lap.  

Hermione took a deep breath. “You’re okay, Hermione,” she whispered under her breath. “You’ve got this. Start simple. March. First position, slight plie, like a penguin.” She’d taken to using Draco’s metaphor, though she’d never admit to it. 

“Right, left, right, left, feet together and glide.” She smiled as her skates slowly came to a stop beneath her. “Okay. Dips. March, two-foot glide, sixth position plie. Is that even a thing?” She shook the thought from her head. “Right, left, right, left, feet together, slowly bend and Oh shit!”  

Her pick had caught a nick in the ice, throwing off her balance. Thankfully, her arms had been straight out ahead of her as Coach Remus had taught them, so her hands hit the ice first, fingers curled in, and it was enough to keep her from completely falling over. 

Once she had righted herself, she moved over to the wall and clutched it, leaning over slightly. She’d only made it a quarter way around the rink.  

“Don’t cry,” she admonished herself in a harsh whisper. “This is a stupid thing to cry over.” She closed her eyes, focused on her breathing. In through the nose, out through an invisible straw. 

“Not sure you’re getting much practice in, clinging to the wall like a ship-wrecked pirate.” Her eyes shot open when she recognized the voice that was way too close to her.  

“Draco. What are you doing here?” She was going for something intimidating. Her tone came out as a pout. 

He smirked. “Um, coaching? The job I get paid to do.” He shrugged. “Or at least, I’m here to coach if needed. Otherwise, I fuck around in the center of the ice.” 

“Great coaching habits,” she sneered. 

“Well, it looks like I’m needed at the moment. So, fucking around will be saved for later.” 

“So, you’ll leave me alone?” she asked hopefully.  

He laughed. “Hardly. You’re the one who needs help.” 

“I don’t need help!” she insisted, stamping a foot against the ice. 

“Oh sure. Alright then. Let me see a lap. You can go around the inner cone ring, if you prefer.” 

She didn’t move.  

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought.”  

He jumped over the wall, landing smoothly before holding out his hands for her to take. 

She clung to the wall tighter. “I’m not ready yet! I’m trying to catch my breath. And get my heart rate back to normal,” she lost her mental battle, and a few tears fell down her face. 

Draco reached out and took her hand in his. But actually, not her hand? He had his hand wrapped around her wrist.  

“I don’t know if you were being serious or dramatic, but your heart rate is fine. No more elevated than I would expect it to be.” 

“You’d expect it to be?” She rolled her eyes. “What, are you a nurse now? Nurse Malfoy?” 

“EMT, but close.” 

Hermione was taken aback. “Wait, what?” 

“EMT. Emergency Medical Technician?” 

“I know what it stands for, I’m not an idiot. I just don’t believe you’re an EMT. You’re my age. And somehow you coach skating, apparently compete in skating, and you’re an EMT? If you’re going to show off, at least make it believable.” 

He unlatched the gate to the hockey holding pen. “Come on. Off the ice. You’re too upset to do anything right now.” 

He kept his hand on her as she stepped off and took a seat. 

"For once, I'm not trying to show off. When I started skating competitively, I left my fancy private school and started homeschooling. Gave me the time to dedicate to skating. When I graduate, I want to go to school to be a sports medicine physician. So, I did the high school medical tech program to get a head start in that direction. I'll be eighteen in June. And while we're at it, I'm well aware of why both you and your friend there are here. There's a reason I'm always around during your classes and free skate time." 

He grinned. "I'm not just around to annoy you, despite what you might think." 

"I'll be seventeen in September. You're still basically my age. Don't be so dramatic about that. So, are you even a coach? Or was that a lie?" 

"That's not a lie. I coach because all coaches are required to be first aid certified. With an EMT license, I can do more than someone with a standard first aid cert, so I get paid more."  

Neville slammed into the wall. "I need to get better at stopping. Are you okay, Herms? You're not hurt, right?"  

"Not physically, no." She smiled slightly.  

He glanced at Draco, as if contemplating voicing his next thought. "You're missing it, aren't you?" 

"That's part of it, yeah," she admitted with a small teary smile.  

"Want me to go away?" He asked, glancing at Draco.  

"That's up to you. I'm apparently a fall risk right now."  

He grinned. "I'll be back around if you need me." 

She watched him skate off. "So, you have been watching me?" She asked of her current companion.  

"You. And him. As a precaution." A beat of silence. "You have the skills to be good at this. But you start thinking too much. And you need to stop worrying so much about falling. It happens."  

"Everybody else doesn't care enough about falling," she insisted.  

He nodded his head toward the ice. "Neville has the same risk level as you do. He's falling all over the place and he's okay. That's part of the reason I recommended all the padding. To give you peace of mind. And I did see your fall. You did well; catching yourself." 

"I'm old enough that if I fall, I'm going to get hurt."  

"That's why we spent the better part of an hour learning how to fall safely your first session," he explained with a smirk. "But you're so scared of falling, you're getting in your own way." 

"Because I can't get too comfortable again." 

"Why? Why are you so scared? Neville isn't. And he's far clumsier." 

"Because Neville's never had a fall that changed his life." 

"And you have." 

She nodded, swiping away fresh tears from her face.  

"Ballet?" 

"You know The Nutcracker?" 

"Yeah, of course." 

"It was an amateur production so nothing super important. But I was cast as Clara. And I was so excited. But opening night, my ankle gave out in the last number of the first act. The other one followed when I tried to catch myself." She took a deep breath. "I pushed through act two on demi pointe. Basically, faked it in pretend pointe shoes. But there was too much damage. 

"I went to the ER that night. Nothing was broken by some miracle, so I was sent home with an ace bandage and pain meds. But two days later, the first leg that gave out was black and blue from my toes all the way up the back of my calf. Doctor said I popped a tendon. 

"So, I was in a wheelchair for a month. Did physical therapy for three or four. And was diagnosed with hypermobility syndrome about a month later. Neville's mum Alice was the one who encouraged me to get checked out."  

"Did you try to go back?"  

Hermione nodded. "I couldn't. Pointe shoes are not for the faint of heart. It's brutal on your feet and ankles and mine just aren't strong enough after destroying my tendon. And it's not like I ever intended to have a career in ballet because that's not practical. And since I don't want it as a career, I could probably get away with doing ballet sans pointe. But that's emotionally painful." 

“So why ice skating?” 

“In lieu of a team sports credit for school,” she answered with a giggle. 

“Yeah, I know that. It’s on your paperwork. Which I had to review. I mean, am I wrong in guessing you sought this out for its similarities to dance?” 

“No, you’re right. Because I was devastated, the physical therapist and sports medicine physician gave me ideas of what else I could try that would be similar to what I’d done before.” 

“I know you’re not my biggest fan. But will you let me work with you? I know you have to take free ice time once a week. I can work with you one-on-one during those sessions. Or one-to-two, I suppose. Without the pressure of others.” 

“Can you refrain from being arrogant?” 

“I make no promises.”  

“I’ve got to pass at least level three to get the school credit. So, I guess I should try.” 

 “You’ve got thirty minutes left. Why don’t you get back out there and try?” 

“I guess.” 

He offered her a hand. “Let’s go.”

The next week, when Alice brought Hermione and Neville to the center for their free skate, there was a girl standing next to the check-in counter holding a garment bag, chatting with the man sitting behind the computer.  

“So, you’re Hermione?” the girl asked, after Alice signed them both in.  

“I am. I’m sorry. Do I know you?” 

She smiled warmly. “Probably not. My name is Astoria. I was instructed to give you this,” she explained, holding out the garment bag. “There are three dresses in there. Try them on and pick the one you like to wear to your practice today. If you need any help with it, let me know.” 

Hermione was very confused. “Okay?” 

She chose one of the larger changing rooms, so she had the space to move around. After stripping off her trainers, jeans, and blouse, she opened her bag to pull out the leotard she wore under her skating clothes. The leotard was there, but her leggings and jumper were not. She started to panic until she noticed a brand-new pack of tights with a note written on them. They were skin tone, shimmery, full footed tights.  

“All you have are convertibles, so I got you a few new pairs. Humor me. Love mum,” the note read. 

Oookaaaay. Weird.  

She dressed in the tights and her leotard pretty quickly. The next layers were padding: arch support socks, knee pads, padded shorts, and elbow pads.  

Hermione carefully opened the garment bag that Astoria had mysteriously handed her. The first costume was a red sleeveless dress with a short, flared skirt. The front had a mesh cut out adorned with crystals. Hermione didn’t even bother with this one. Too vivid. Too noticeable. Last resort. 

The second dress was a pink cold-shoulder style with a high-low skirt. Most of the dress was a soft pink, aside from a darker pink bodice. She tried this one on first. It looked nice, but the shoulders were distracting and she wasn’t sure about the length of the skirt in the back. It felt like a hazard. So, she took it off but kept it out for the moment. There was still one more option. 

The final dress was long sleeve, periwinkle blue with a sweetheart neckline and a short ombre skirt, the bottom trim of it snowy white. The front was speckled with crystals while the back of it was adorned with a bow. After putting it on, she noticed the sleeves had an elastic loop for her finger, so she adorned them properly.  

Hermione glanced at herself in the mirror and smiled. Her hair was still messy, and her face was clear of any makeup, the remnants of a day at school. But she felt pretty. And the color reminded her of the dress she’d worn as Clara over a year ago. It was almost like being in ballet again.  

She slipped her feet back into her trainers, closed the garment bag with the remaining two dresses, and gathered her skate bag from the floor.  

Astoria was waiting just outside the changing room talking with another skater with short black hair, but she stopped mid-conversation when she saw Hermione emerge. “That one looks perfect on you! Great choice. Do you wear anything on your hands usually?” 

“Wrist supports and gloves.” After passing the garment bag back to Astoria, she pulled out her gloves to show them off.  

“Hmm. Black doesn’t go with that dress. Let me check my bag. I might have a pair that will work better. Hang tight.” Astoria walked away into the women’s coach’s locker room.  

The other girl was still there, looking Hermione up and down. “She’s right. That dress is actually perfect on you. You wear it better than she did.” 

The compliment made her feel shy. And she was still wondering what this was all about.  

Astoria returned a moment later carrying a pair of nude-colored gloves exactly like Hermione’s as well as a white knit headband studded with crystals. “Here, try these.” Hermione quickly put her wrist guards on, slipping the gloves on over them.  

“I have head protection that I wear though,” she said sadly, admiring the headband. 

Astoria turned the headband inside out. “Attached a padded headband to it,” she said with a wink. “Try it on. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.” 

“Oh, wait!” the other girl interrupted. “Can I fix your hair real quick?” 

“Uh…” Now, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I still need to put my skates on.” 

“Right, right! Then let’s get to rink side and I can fix your hair while you put your skates on.” The unknown girl exclaimed, grabbing Hermione’s hand and pulling her along.  

The two girls sat her down in a chair next to Neville. “Pansy, you do her hair, I’ll put her skates on,” Astoria declared, taking a seat on her knees in front of Hermione. 

“Wow, Hermione! You look beautiful!” Neville said in awe. “That dress reminds me of—” but he stopped talking, a blush creeping up his face. 

“Of Clara. I know,” Hermione whispered. “I thought of that, too.” 

Five minutes later, Hermione had her hair pinned back in a half up style, the headband snugly in place. Her skates hugged her feet and ankles firmly, but not tight enough to hurt.  

Astoria stood up from the ground. “Alright, stand up and give a twirl,” she said, drawing a circle in the air with her pointer finger.  

Hermione did a shy spin.  

“Perfect!” Pansy exclaimed as Astoria squealed in delight.  

“You look gorgeous!”  

“Better than you,” Pansy smiled. 

“Absolutely!” 

“Are you two done using her as a Barbie doll?” Coach Draco’s voice interrupted.  

Astoria turned to him and grinned. “I warned you when you told me what you wanted to do.”  

He rolled his eyes. “What did I get this poor girl into?” 

“I turned her into an ice princess. But we’ve got to go meet Daph at the mall. So, I’ll see you later Draco Mako.” Astoria wiggled her fingers at him before pulling Pansy along toward the exit.  

“Wait!” Hermione called. “How am I going to get these back to you?” 

Astoria and Pansy both turned around and sized her up one more time. “I’ve been needing to sell some of my old dresses anyway. Keep it, Hermione.” 

Hermione was stunned. “Thank you!” 

Draco cleared his throat. “Ice is open Miss Protégé.” 

She turned back to face him. “This was your idea? But why?” 

“Trying to give you a boost of confidence. If you look like a figure skater, you’ll feel like a figure skater.”  

“But I’m not a figure skater. I’m a level one student.” 

“For now.” Draco turned to face Neville. “Do you want to work with us or on your own?” 

“Preferably on my own,” Neville admitted, marching toward the entrance to the rink. “But I don’t mind a few tips. I’m just better when I don’t feel like I’m being watched.” 

Draco nodded. “Understood. After you, then.” 

Once Neville took off, Draco turned to face Hermione. “Let’s try a bit off the ice first. The skill I see you struggling the most with are dips, so we’re going to try that on the ground. Get you used to what it feels like when your skates won’t go anywhere. Show me.” 

Hermione lowered herself into a squat.  

“And there’s your first problem,” Draco said. “If your shoulders are pointing down—” 

“I’m going down, I know,” Hermione grumbled.  

She had stood back up when he started speaking, so he urged her to do it again. Once she had lowered herself into a squat, she felt like flailing when Draco suddenly had his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not going to let you fall. But I want you to feel what it should feel like.” 

“But my skate is digging into my shin,” she complained.  

“Then don’t force yourself lower than you’re comfortable with.” He crossed one foot over the other, his arms folded. “You know what? You’re a nerd, aren’t you?”  

“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, offended. “I was just starting to tolerate you.” 

Draco laughed. “Tolerate me. Excellent. My question was serious. You’re a nerd, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, she is!” Neville chimed in, tripping off the ice to grab a sip of water.  

Hermione whipped around to glare at him.  

“It’s not a bad thing!” Neville protested with a shrug. “I wish I were as smart as you are.” 

“Go skate,” Hermione pouted. 

Neville laughed as he re-entered the rink.  

“Then we’re taking a break from dips,” Draco declared taking her hand and pulling her toward the rink. “And we’re going to try something harder.” 

“Something harder?” Hermione squealed in protest.  

“Yes, harder. Because you seem to be the type that struggles on the beginner shit because you make it more complicated than it needs to be.” 

“That’s… a fair assessment.” 

He smirked. “Then you’re going to have to actually get on the ice. You can keep one hand on the wall if that makes you more comfortable and I’ll take your other hand.”  

She took a deep breath before grabbing his hand and gingerly taking a step onto the ice.  

“See? Easy peasy.” He led her away from the wall, and she looked over towards it longingly.  

“No, no. There will be no wall clinging today, missy. I think you’re good on the marching. Let’s try going backwards.” 

“Horrible idea. Next,” Hermione sulked.  

He spun them both around, so he was now facing forward. “If you have your toes turned out when going forward—” 

“First position.” 

He smirked. “If you’re standing in first position to skate forward, how do you think you need to position your feet to go backward?” 

Hermione turned her toes, so they pointed inwards, which immediately had her gliding backwards. She gripped Draco’s arms tighter.  

“Good. Toes out, forward. Toes in, backward. And you’re just going to try little steps. Physics will do the rest.” 

She started taking tiny steps. “But I feel like my feet are getting too far away from me and I’m going to end up losing control and falling into a split.” 

“I’m going to strap a piece of plywood to your back if you keep looking down. That’s a bad habit you need to break. Keep your shoulders over your feet and your head up. Engage your core.”  

She followed his directions and slowly made it about halfway around the rink before she refused to go any farther. “I’m tired. It takes too much work.” 

“That’s fine. Recognize the fatigue. Work with it, not against it. So, I’ll turn you back around. But look at how far you made it around.”  

Hermione focused her attention on her surroundings. “I’m on the opposite end of the rink!” she exclaimed. 

He chuckled. “You are. Because you are capable of doing this. Swizzles. You know what they look like?” 

“It’s the shape of a lemon,” she answered. 

“Correct. Show me.” She moved forward, forcing her toes outward and then back in. He stopped her almost immediately. “Found another problem. You’re trying to stay on the center of the blade. That’s not going to get you anywhere except on your face. And I’m going to start flicking you on the nose every time your pretty little face drops to your toes.” 

She brought her gaze back up to his and stuck out her tongue.  

Draco smirked. “Ice skate blades are not just knives attached to a boot. They’re more complex than that.” He turned her sideways and placed her hands on the walls, giving her a break. 

He held up a hand, his fingers curled in the shape of a C, but facing down. Skate blades are sharpened into two edges, shaped like this. So, there’s a groove down the center of the blade. The deeper the groove, the more the skate is going to grab the ice. Figure skates have a softer groove, so you are able to glide. We’re not blocking hockey pucks out here. 

“That means, when we skate, everything we do is on edges. “Right inside, left inside, right outside, left outside. So, when you do swizzles, you need to be on the edge of the blade. Swizzles are on the inside edges. Stop trying to force your feet to stay upright.” 

She tried again, making three lemon shapes across the ice.  

“Nope! You’re still trying to keep your blades upright. Grab on tight to me, I’m going to show you. I want you to feel the difference.” 

She gripped his forearms tighter.  

“Pull one foot up off the ice.” 

“Are you out of your mind?” 

“No. Pick up one foot off the ice. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you fall. Here.” He stepped a little bit closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, resting his hand on her back. Because the back of her dress was slightly open, his gloved hand was directly on her skin, making her shiver. “Pick up this foot,” he instructed, nudging the leg closest to him with his knee. 

She picked up her foot, but thankfully, he was supporting most of her weight. “Inside edges are easier, more natural. So, shift your feet so your skate is angled towards me.” She followed this direction, and he moved her forward in a small glide. “Outside edges are a bit trickier, because it feels less natural, like you’re forcing your feet apart.” He nudged her over, so she started gliding forward again, but this time, she felt like she was being pushed away from him.  

“But I’m not going straight,” she pointed out. “I keep curving.” 

“Well, I should hope so. Because you’re going to run out of rink to skate straight on. Very little of your skating is going to be straight forward. Skating makes use of natural curves. You’ve ever used a protractor to draw circles?” 

She nodded. “Think of me as the point of the protractor. Your skate is the pencil.” He supported her weight again, shifting to the inside blade, guiding her along. She made a complete circle around him in this way.  

“Oh hey!” she exclaimed, looking down at the ice. “I made a circle!” 

Draco smirked. “Indeed. So, swizzles will always be on the inside edges of your skate. Your toes are your steering mechanism. Your knees are the gas pedal.” He let go of her to demonstrate. “Bend your knees, toes pointed out, you glide out. Toes pointed back in, you glide in. Keep your core engaged, use the bend of your knees to control speed. But I’m going to stay on your side this time so I’m not in your way.” 

Hermione started whispering to herself again. “First position, plie to move out. Woah! Okay. I’m still standing. Turn in and straighten a bit… And again. And swizzle. Swizzle. Swizzle. Swizzle—” Before she knew it, she was back at the entrance. “I did it!” she cheered.  

Draco beamed with her. “You did it. I knew you could. You only need to complete five to pass the skill. You completed far more than that.”  

Neville cheered from the side. “Hermione you were doing so good! I stopped to watch and you look like a real skater!” 

She smiled. She didn’t feel like a real skater, nowhere close. But finally, she felt like she was getting somewhere. 

Hermione and her friends were attending a public skate. Everyone registered for classes was able to attend two public skating sessions as part of their tuition. Hermione and Neville were the only ones with tuition waivers for freestyle practices. They had all passed level one and were in the second week of level two. Harry and Ron, the gits, had spent a week in level two before being moved up to level three. It annoyed her how naturally the basic skills came to her brother. At least she still had Neville with her in the lowly level two class.  

Hermione wasn’t the biggest fan of public skates though. It was crowded. And the crowds had a variety of skill levels. There were people there recreationally with no clue what they were doing. There were advanced figure skaters who kept to the center of the rink where they could practice jumps and spins without much interference. And there were hockey players wearing so much padding they moved around like the Michelin Man. The hockey players were the scariest because they had no fear. They flew across the ice, crashed into base boards like it was nothing.  

She was already feeling off. Like moving was exhausting. Her gut told her to stay near the wall. Most of the reckless skaters kept to the center of the rink, making smaller circles, and she was scared that these skaters, mostly larger boys, would knock into her. But along the wall, there was a risk of being knocked over by the people who had not a clue how to skate.  

The other unfortunate part of public skating sessions was the lack of Coach Draco Malfoy. Because of her and Neville’s medical conditions, he was required to be around during lessons and private practice time. There was no guarantee that he would be at public skating. And so far, she’d been on the ice for fifteen minutes and had yet to see the distinctive blond head. 

For the moment, she was doing the most basic of skills. Forward glides. Swizzles. Backwards wiggles. She was spending her time on skills that had become her warm-up. It was all she had the energy for, but figured it was better than nothing.  

She was suddenly knocked off balance. It had happened too quickly for her to catch herself properly, so she went down hard. Pain shot through her forearms as she slid across the ice. Two other skaters, recreational, Hermione noted by the appearance of their haphazardly tied skates, were too close to her.  

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” The girl cried. “Oh!”  

Hermione felt a sharp pain in her shin and then a weight on top of her body.  

“Damn it, Jackson!” the girl cried, rolling off Hermione’s body. “I told you to stop sneaking up and grabbing me!”  

“So did I!” an angry woman’s voice shouted. “Both of you, off the ice! Into the penalty box until I can get a senior coach out here.” 

Hermione glanced up to see Astoria. “Hang tight, Hermione. I’m going to get you off the ice.” She pulled out a walkie talkie from the pocket of her coach’s jacket. “Rink one to desk one.” 

A scratchy voice came over the walkie. “Go for desk one.” 

“Hey, it’s Tori. I need you, a first aid kit, and whichever lead is on staff today.” 

“Ten Four.” 

Hermione finally found the strength to roll over and sit up. But having been sprawled out on the ice so long, she was freezing. Then she noticed a small pool of red on the ice. She glanced down at her leg and felt a flush of panic. 

“Oh my god, I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding!” 

Astoria was keeping the crowd away, having quickly blocked off the area around her with cones. Her temper was also a good deterrent for anyone who thought they could sneak through the cones to stay against the wall.  

Moments later, two more coaches were on the ice. “What happened?” 

“Those two were given multiple warnings to stop aggressive and reckless interactions. The boy knocked her over and the girl clipped her leg with the toe pick and fell on top of her.” 

“I will happily remove the imbeciles from the rink,” an older man said before skating away.  

“Thank you, Coach Severus!” Astoria called after him. 

The second coach squat down in front of her on one knee. “Hermione. You’re okay. We’ve got you, alright?” It was Draco. But instead of his familiar nagging and teasing, his expression was serious, concerned.  

“I shouldn’t have even gotten on the ice today,” Hermione cried, tears suddenly falling.  

“Can you stand? Or do we need to clear the ice?” Astoria asked.  

“Oh God,” Hermione sniffed. “I can stand. Please don’t clear the ice. That’s mortifying.”  

Hesitantly, she pushed herself up on to her knees. Draco offered her a hand to help her up.  

“Tori, can you get the blood up?”  

“I can help her clean it. Get her cleaned up, Draco,” the familiar voice of Remus spoke.  

Moments later, Hermione was being carried out of the rink by Coach Severus and into a first aid room. He placed her on a soft bench and then left her alone in the room with Draco. 

“I shouldn’t have skated today. I didn’t feel up to it and now something bad happened,” she cried, wiping the sleeve of her jumper across her face.  

Draco was sitting in front of her, pulling on a pair of blue exam gloves. 

“It’s okay, Hermione. You’re okay. I’m going to get you cleaned up alright?”  

She nodded tearfully. “Okay.” 

“Coach Astoria told me what happened. Can you tell me where you are hurting?” 

“My- My leg is bleeding. It hurts really bad,” she cried.  

“I see the injury on your leg, love. I’m going to get that one cleaned up first. Anything else hurting you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Okay. Try to catch your breath. You’re okay. You’re safe in here. Right now, I need you to sip on the water Coach Severus gave you.” 

Hermione followed this instruction, watching Draco as he dabbed at the blood on her leg.  

“That toe pick got you pretty good.” He pulled out a pair of scissors and cut through the tights, pulling the sheer fabric away from the injury. “It’s not deep though. So, I’m going to clean it up and get a bandage on it. It might sting a little though. But I’ll be quick.” 

Draco kept pressure held tightly on the wound until he was certain the bleeding had stopped. Then, he cleaned up the dried blood with gauze and clear water.  

Draco met her gaze. “Can you take a peek through the window behind me and see if there are any coaches over there?” 

Hermione tore her gaze away and glanced up. The window was tinted quite dark, but she could make out a figure. She was about to tell him this when she felt a searing sting against her leg. She hissed. 

“I’m sorry, love.” 

“There’s one person out there.” 

He gave her a knowing smile. “I figured. But I needed you distracted for a few seconds.” 

“And like a toddler, I fell for it,” Hermione pouted.  

“That trick works on almost everyone. It doesn’t make you a toddler,” he smirked, pressing a fresh piece of gauze to the wound, covering it with a bandage and wrapping it once with a longer strip of gauze, which he tied in a knot over the bandage.  

He gathered all the used supplies in one hand and pulled his gloves off inside out to contain the bloody mess. “I’m going to swing you around here and get an ice pack on it, so it hopefully won’t swell too much. And I have some paracetamol if you want it. Right now, you’re being fueled by adrenaline, but once that passes, you might feel more discomfort.” 

He propped her leg up with an ice pack, then placed a cushion behind her, so she could lean back comfortably.  

“My arms hurt a bit. When I fell. I sort of landed on my forearms hard.” 

“Alright, I’ll get your wrist guards and gloves off and just take a look. Okay?” 

She nodded. “Were you the one who answered Astoria’s call on the radio?” 

“I was. I was on desk duty. Not my favorite task, but we all take turns with it. And I truthfully do it the least because when I’m not on the ice, I’m doing a lot of this,” he explained gesturing to the first aid kit. “Especially during public skates.” 

“I hate public skates,” she mumbled.  

“And now I’m sure you have justification to despise them,” he said, glancing up with a knowing look. 

Draco had her gloves and wrist guards removed and her sleeves pushed up to her elbows. “Let me know if there’s any tenderness when I press against your arm.” 

He moved his fingers from her wrist to her elbow, pressing his fingers firmly. “It’s a bit sore here,” she answered, pointing to the side of her arm.  

He nodded. “It looks like you’ve got a little bit of basically road rash there. But nothing serious. Just some redness and tenderness.” After repeating the same assessment on her other arm, he declared her clear.  

“How are you, love?” 

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that,” Hermione pointed out.  

Draco shrugged. “I save my tenderness and caring for EMT work. The snark is for on the ice.” 

“I’m okay. Just shaken up. I’m not feeling my best today so I probably shouldn’t have been on the ice to begin with.” 

“I can’t agree nor disagree. I can only tell you with hypermobility, your body works twice as hard to control your movements. And that can lead to fatigue. If your body is ever telling you that something you are doing is too much, you should listen to it. That’s also why I never push you on skills when you say it’s becoming too difficult.” 

“I don’t have to go back on the ice today?” she asked.  

“No, I don’t expect you’d want to. And we’ve run out most of the clock in here anyway. But I’m proud of you, Hermione.” 

She was puzzled. “Why?” 

“Because even when you didn’t have the time to brace for it, you managed to fall safely. You can do it. You just have to trust yourself.” Then in a more teasing tone, “And stop staring down at your damn toes.” 

She giggled.

Hermione glanced down at the skills checklist Coach Remus had just handed to her. Level six skills were all a pass. She beamed up at him. “Congratulations, Hermione. You’ve graduated the Basic Program and have my approval for starting advanced skating, if you so choose.” 

She was so happy. She’d worked so hard over the semester to get to where she was. And now she had passed! She gave Remus an overjoyed hug. “Thank you so much, Remus! You’ve been wonderful. I never could have done this without you.” 

Remus kept her at arm’s length. “While I appreciate the credit you’ve given me, I do think you owe a certain junior coach a world of thanks as well,” he said with a nod toward Draco, who was currently carrying one of the youngest skaters, couldn’t have been older than four, off the ice. 

“I will, certainly. But thank you again.” 

“Are you still planning to take the ice dance curriculum?” he asked, as he skated alongside her toward the rink entrance. 

“I’d really like to. I’m going to take a break next session to get through finals, but then if I can fit it into my schedule, I’d love to start ice dance. No jumps for me, though.” 

“I think you’ll do well in ice dance. Especially with your background in ballet. Coach Severus is a force to be reckoned with, but I think you can handle him,” he encouraged with a pat on her back. “Congratulations again, Hermione.” 

As soon as she had stepped off the ice, Neville had engulfed her in a hug. “You did it! You did it! I knew you could pass!” 

Hermione giggled. “Who told you I had passed?” she asked in a teasing voice. 

“The silly grin on your face,” Harry teased. “I’m proud of you, sis.” 

Neville had quit after passing the required level three skills. Harry had graduated from level six the session prior. He’d just finished Hockey one but had decided it wasn’t the best place for him to be. The plan was for Harry and Hermione to take ice dance together. They could be a brother and sister team. 

A voice interrupted the celebration. “So? Where’s the report card?”  

Hermione whipped around to show Draco the assessment sheet. He glanced up at her with a smirk. “I knew you could do it.” 

“Once I realized you were teaching me level four skills while I was struggling through level one, I knew I could too.” 

Draco shrugged. “I knew you were overthinking things. Making it harder than it needed to be.” 

“Well, thank you. You’re an excellent coach, Draco. If sports medicine doesn’t work out, you’ve got a fall-back plan.” 

“I’ve actually already changed up my plans a bit. Don’t want to bother with medical school. But I got accepted into the five year fast-track Master of Nursing program. I can be a nurse practitioner in half the time it would have taken me to get a medical degree and fellowship.” 

Harry nudged him. “Draco Malfoy is okay with a career that is mostly women? Color me surprised.” 

“Shut it, Potter.” 

Hermione smiled. “I’ve got to get out of my skates. Why don’t you two go wait for me in the lobby?” she said to Neville and Harry.  

They both gave her another hug. “Sounds good. We’ll see you in a few.” 

Draco followed her back to the bench where she had stored her skate bag. “Astoria’s old dress was a nice touch for your final assessment,” he commented as she started stripping off her protective gear. 

“It’s a bit of a good luck charm now, I think. Because you’re right. When I dress like a figure skater, I feel like a figure skater.” 

“Hermione.” Draco suddenly seemed shy. “I’ll still be around plenty. And I’m sure we’ll run into each other on the ice at some point. But I won’t be your coach anymore.” 

“Oh.” She considered this as she cleared the ice off her skate blades. “Does that mean you won’t be able to help me practice anymore when I start Ice Dance?” 

He shook his head. “No, I’d love to help if you still want it. But since I’m not technically a coach, you don’t need my help anymore. But also.” He took a deep breath. “Also, because I’m not your coach anymore, I’d love to take you out sometime. On a date. If you’re interested.” 

Hermione dropped her skate in surprise. “Really? But I thought… You and Astoria?” 

He chuckled. “No, hon. We’re competition partners. But Tori is taken. She and Pansy are a bit more than just friends.” 

“Oh. Oh!”  

“So, can I take you out sometime? I have my driver’s license too, if you’re allowed to ride with other teenage drivers.” 

“Draco, I’d love to!” 

He beamed. “Are you doing anything tonight? I can take you out for a celebratory dinner,” he offered.  

“I’ll have to ask my mum of course. But if she says yes, I’d love to.” 

With her bag packed, she stood up and held her arms out to hug him. “So, I guess I really was lucky all those months ago. Back when you were watching me fall obsessively.” 

He grinned. “Lucky me.”