Dark Magic

Flight

The following week passed quickly, as I fought my inner turmoil as to whether I should focus on my studies, or Harry and I's hunt for Sirius Black. We each took turns throughout our daily lunch break, patrolling the castle with the Marauder's Map. We had noticed Hermione had been spending most of her free time in Hagrid's hut, which I would need to join her shortly, if we had any hope in successfully winning Buckbeak's trial. We had 3 months, and Draco still had not managed to change his father's mind regarding the Hippogriff's sentencing.

Saturday 15th January arrived, where we had our Ravenclaw match. I had been training as much as I could, but my broom skills had decreased compared to the year prior, As much as I tried, my broom was not willing to do my bidding; Slytherin narrowly beat Ravenclaw that week, by no more than thirty points. We would need to reconvene, and I would need to seriously get some practise with flying in the next few days if I wanted to become team Captain...

Instead of wallowing in self-pity, however, I decided to take it upon myself to reach out to my head of house for help, disregarding the last conversation we had in the room of requirement. Where I had left him again. Alone. As I tried to contemplate the vision of my mother and father's death. My curiosity was not quenched, however, at the thought of the events that must have unfolded after Snape's memory cut off. Where was I, on that fateful night? I had to have been alive. Was someone else taking care of me? It was strange, how both Harry and I had survived Voldemort's attack. And I knew people were keeping secrets from me about my life and Harry's. But I also knew that I was young...Too young to possibly have the questions I needed answers to. So I would wait...I would wait until someone was ready to tell me the truth...

"Enter." The door to the Potion's classroom opened a crack, recoiling from the pressure of my knuckles as I stepped inside to find Snape, in his usual stance, writing at his desk. He looked utterly exhausted, as though he hadn't slept at all through the night, from the black circles and gaunt look far more prominent that normal. The man's eyes scanned me up and down, drifting from his parchment momentarily. "Ah, Miss Potter. Congratulations on winning the match the other day." Closing the book, his focus primarily fixated into my presence. "What, may I ask, are you doing out of bed, at this hour?" 

Snape's eyes narrowed as I scanned the room in search of a clock; the time reading to be 5.30am. I sighed, averting my gaze guiltily towards the floor. "Couldn't sleep. We barely won the match and it was my fault." Running a hand through my hair with slight agitation, I took a seat at an empty desk. "I'm having problems with my broom...Again." I pouted, waiting for Snape's response.

"You are right, your performance wasn't perfect but..." He paused, my gaze drifting back onto him as he thought intently on a solution to my plight. It didn't take him long to come to a conclusion as his dark eyes found mine in the candlelight. "Well, I suppose we can only hope you are facing a similar problem to before that a bit of concentration can fix. Do you have your broom with you?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

I nodded, turning briefly back to the classroom door, "It's outside-", Snape cut my sentence short as he rose from his seat, "Follow me."

Taking a moment to catch up, I did as he said, grabbing my broom as we headed for the outskirts of the school. The Forbidden Forest was quiet in the early hours of the morning, a thick sheet of fog breaking the line between the trees and the sky above, which could potentially make flying difficult...

In the morning light, the hollowness to Snape's face and sleep deprivation became evident; he looked as though he hadn't slept for a week, causing the concern for my teacher to flood through me. "Professor, are you sure you want to do this? You look-"

Snape held a hand up dismissively to my questioning, "-I'm fine, Miss Potter." He sighed, slightly irritated at my concern. "Now, before you start whizzing off to Merlin knows where...I want you to clear your mind completely." 'That should be relatively easy in an empty forest.' I hung onto Snape's thought, smirking and averting my gaze to the floor. "Careful Professor, your mind is slipping." I warned, Snape's mind closing in retaliation to my statement as only my own thoughts remained...

"Close your eyes, Emerald. Ground yourself to the earth...Think of your primary senses...What you can see...Hear...Feel...Let it overtake any other thoughts in your mind and allow them to dissipate...And when you are ready...Mount your broom...Isolate yourself from those senses...And push off..."

I did as my teacher said, the frustration eating away at me as I struggled to clear my mind. To make those instinctive thoughts go away like it was a natural thing to do...To push everything out and cleanse my mind so that only my senses remained....And then push even those out, like it was an easy feat.

"This isn't working." I grunted, my eyes remaining closed as my hands felt the wood of my broom splinter them ever so slightly. 

"Emerald?..." 

"Hm?" I retorted, agitated.

"Open your eyes..."

I looked around confusedly, hoping there would be some sort of explanation to Snape's instruction. Was he trying to embarrass me? To mock me for being unable to do something as simple as flying a broom without difficulty. No. He wasn't. For hardly noticeable, as it was, I glanced down...To find my feet a mere few inches above the ground. But it was progress. More progress than having to do a run up each time I mounted my broom in order to start it off in flight. Yes, this was good.

"You're overthinking, Miss Potter. Flying a broom isn't about how or why...It just is...Doing what comes naturally and acting on it. Not mentally willing the broom to do as you so wish...Just doing it without thought..."

Nodding, I narrowed my eyes and didn't give what I was doing another thought. Didn't plan what I wanted the broom to do next...Just...Felt as it took off through the forest, breaking the line of fog and bursting into the morning sky as the sun began to rise in the forests far away from Hogwarts. It was hardly peaceful, compared to my first flying lesson with Snape the year previous. The broom was faster and more determined to reach its end destination...Wherever that was...

There was a certain, wild personality to my broom...As though it was soaring through inconsequently...No care for the person flying it. As though I was an unrequited anomaly that it wanted to spring from its grasp like a bull trying to fling its rider from it in some sort of desperation. I was going too high...And I knew there was no way to stop it for the broom was rampant...Determined to shake me free...

My grasp loosened for a moment, giving the magical object a chance to fling me from it's back and I hurdled towards the ground...Towards the clearing where Snape stood as no more than a small, black dot. I was falling from a height that even a wizard wouldn't survive...I couldn't survive...

A strangled sort of shriek emitted from Snape, so similar to the one belonging to that memory he so willingly allowed me to venture into...So desperate and yet...Hopeless at the same time. So I closed my eyes and waited....Waited for that immense thud and hoping I would wake in the hospital wing in a few hours time...Hoping time hadn't been stolen from me due to a stupid mistake of wanting to fly a broom and win the Quidditch House Cup for 1992...

But that sensation. That force. That pain...Never came. And when I opened my eyes I found myself hovering a few inches above the floor. Similar, but not identical, to how Harry had just missed the ground on the day of the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff match. What had happened? Snape must have used the same spell as Dumbledore to...To save my life.

"Thank you." I sighed, my eyes finding Snape's in utter disbelief, confusion, guilt and concern...He shook his head, rubbing his eyes as though to convince himself this was real and I was standing before him.

"That wasn't me Emerald...That...That was you.....You flew...Without a broom..."