Delicate // Poppy Sweeting

1

My life has never been more chaotic and overwhelming than in this very moment.

As Professor Fig told me months ago, I was to be enrolled into the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry by the first of September. At the time I almost called the police on him, but after everything we've been through together it would take more than just a small envelope to shock me now.

Something like a real dragon eating the back half of our flying carriage and swallowing the man who sat in it like he was just another afternoon snack.

My sweaty palms grasped what was left of our transportation and held on like my life depended on it. I'm still not sure magic can save you from plummeting into the Earth below like a squished bug on a windshield, and I didn't want to test it.

"Professor!" I screamed over the deafening sounds of the wind.

The old, wrinkled man looked as put together as ever. He was indeed crazier than I thought. Professor Fig gave me a reassuring smile and then turned towards the giant beast outside. It let out a dangerous roar, and my grip tightened on my seat. The dragon was chasing us with a vengeance and my superior did not seem phased in the slightest.

"We need to jump!"

"Jump?"

"Yes. Jump now, please!" He gestures to the infinite field of puffy clouds below us.

Our driver seemed to have a similar idea, evaporating into thin air and leaving the professor and myself to make an escape on our own. It only takes one last look back up at the monster I've only heard of in stories to make up my mind.

I choke back my fears and throw myself haphazardly out into the open. Fig following immediately after, just as the dragon catches up and tears apart the carriage and what was left of my belongings. I couldn't find it in me to think about it now as the flat surface of the planet was staring me in the face.

I look to my left and my professor is eagerly holding out his palm. I don't have to ask to know what he means. I quickly extend my reach, and the moment our hands touch the world starts to spin around me.

The pressure I felt in my head was unlike anything I've ever experienced. My entire body felt like it was being ripped in two. My skin was scorching as if I had a serious case of rug burn and I couldn't help but wonder what in gods name Professor Fig was trying to do to me.

In reality it could've only lasted a few seconds, but to me it felt like hours.

Immediately after landing harshly inside a cave of sorts, I knew I was going to vomit up my breakfast. It was practically pitch black, and the stone underneath me was cold as ice. Besides the intense nausea, my leg was throbbing unnervingly and I tried not to think about what went wrong there.

"Sorry about that, are you hurt at all?" Professor Fig dusted off his robes and turned a concerned gaze over to me. His eyes widened as I puked all over the ground beside me. "Ah, yes. Nausea is common after a first time apparation."

I gasped for air and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "Lovely. Now where are we?"

Professor Fig lends me a hand and I stand on shaky legs. My skirt had ripped and my knee was bleeding just a little, the red liquid flowing slowly down my calf. He goes towards the exit of the cave we found ourselves in and lets out a sigh of relief. I feel something wet running down my face and gingerly reach up to touch my cheek, wincing at the sting that followed.

Professor Fig notices the wound right after I did and lets out another sigh, pulling a small vial of green liquid out of his robes. "Drink this, it's Wiggenweld, it'll make you feel better. That cut however, oh dear, it might scar. I apologize for that, looks like that dragon did get a taste of you after all."