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It was a well-known fact that Neville Longbottom didn't fly. After his disastrous first ever flying lesson in his first year at Hogwarts and then his encounter with Cornish pixies in his second, it hadn't taken much to convince him that having both feet firmly on the ground was a good thing. Indeed, he'd only ever voluntarily left the ground once since the latter incident and that had been when he had ridden a thestral to the Ministry of Magic in fifth year. He could barely remember a thing of that flight though, adrenaline overriding his fear, so he wasn't entirely certain if it counted or not.

Ever since then, he hadn't left the ground voluntarily and, until now, that had never been a problem. That was the beauty of being a wizard; there were so many different forms of transport that didn't involve flying. Even with all of the travelling that Neville did in his job finding rare and unusual plants and potions ingredients, he could do it all by portkey, Floo or apparition. That was all well and good but then he'd managed to fall in love which had well and truly put a spanner in the works.

It would have been far simpler if Neville had fallen for a wizard who lived in London and had a safe job at the Ministry or somewhere of that ilk. But oh no, Neville had to fall for Charlie Weasley who not only lived in Romania but was a dragon tamer to boot. Falling in love with Charlie had felt like freefalling; a combination of exhilaration and terror sweeping over him.

Charlie claimed that what he was proposing would create the same sensation but all Neville felt was terror. After all, surely terror was the logical response when your lover wanted you to ride a dragon. Charlie insisted that it was perfectly safe, that he had done it hundreds of times before but this was Neville who, if he didn't count the thestral ride, had fallen off a broom when it was less than ten feet off the ground. Eventually though, Neville caved as a result of Charlie's cajoling and it was clear that Charlie thought he was going to back out judging by how quickly Neville found himself on the back of a dragon clinging tightly to Charlie.

As the dragon - who was apparently called Norbert – took off, Neville buried his face in Charlie's back, feeling as though his stomach was in his throat as the ground lurched away beneath them. It took a considerable amount of time before Charlie was able to coax Neville into actually looking around them but when he did, Neville finally understood what Charlie had been talking about.

The excitement and terror were still warring with each other but looking around him, arms wrapped securely around Charlie as Norbert glided through the clouds, Neville was finally flying.