The Difference in Reality [A Harry Potter Fanfiction]

Year 3: Chapter 4

Willow slowly woke up to blinding light. Her eyelashes filtered the insensitive sunlight as she opened her eyes. The room gradually came into focus, though every time she blinked, it sparkled and blurred slightly. Willow rubbed her eyes until they finally adjusted to the darker room she'd woken up in. Bright sunbeams filtered through her window where she'd been laying on her couch all night. Willow yawned, then groggily stood up. Had she actually slept through the majority of the night?

No, she remembered, she hadn't. She'd had the same nightmare she'd been having for weeks, and it kept her up well past midnight. Willow sighed. Was it too much to ask to get a full night's sleep anymore?

Shaking off her disappointment, Willow threw on a pair of soccer shorts and her favourite jersey, then picked a few raspberries off the bush in the corner of the Power House. She peered outside, estimating that it was about half past six in the morning. Today was as good as any day to go for a run and play some soccer. Hastily throwing her hair in a ponytail, Willow found her running shoes, tied them tight, and jogged out the door.

The Forbidden Forest had become very homey around the area where the Power House had popped up. A trail had been carved out already from the amount of times Willow used the same route to get to the castle for her classes. She used that trail this morning, following it all the way to the main path behind Hagrid's house, the one she preferred for her morning runs. Willow jogged along, her breath becoming mist in the cool air. Fallen leaves pleasingly cracked and crunched under her feet. The birds twittered in the trees, a few magical creatures squeaked as they played deeper within the forest, and the gurgle of a nearby stream carried away Willow's stress. The scent of wild onions and tree sap washed over her senses. Willow would have described the sensation as her soul being cleansed. If only her heart could do the same thing.

Willow ended her run deep within the forest, but simply transformed into a falcon, flew back over the trees, and landed in the middle of the field beside the castle. For once, she didn't trip and fall on her face. She was getting much better at sticking her landings. Willow untied her shoes, peeled off her socks, and found the soccer ball she'd hidden in the tall grass. She quickly grew a pair of trees strung together with a strong tufts of grass as her goal, then went about her usual soccer routine. Willow got thousands of touches on the ball. She did skill moves, did speed drills, weaved in and out of patches of grass, and shot so many goals that her legs ached. Mornings were always the best for soccer. Everyone else was in the castle, sleeping away, but she got to have her alone time with the only company she preferred: her soccer ball. Willow was able to forget about her heartache for a little while. Soccer picked up her worries and threw them aside, for however short a time. She wished it could completely solve them for her, but she knew in her heart that her situation could only be solved by her own actions.

Checking her watch, Willow realized it was already eight in the morning. There were bound to be teachers about if she didn't pack up soon. Willow kicked her soccer ball back into the tall grass, retracted the plants she'd grown, put her shoes and socks back on, and flew to her Power House. She changed out her shoes, making sure to leave her running shoes outside where they wouldn't stink up the house. Willow decided that putting her robes back on would be better than detention and begrudgingly threw them over her T-shirt. Grabbing her wand and textbooks, she took the trail she'd made to Hagrid's house, then veered off to go to the paddock where the hippogriffs were kept. Willow wasn't surprised to find Hagrid there.

"Hey, Hagrid!" Willow called.

Hagrid turned around and grinned, but a somber expression still remained on his face. "Hello, Willow. I'm jus' visitin' Beaky again, 'at's all."

Willow bowed to Buckbeak, who bowed in response. She stroked the feathers along the back of his neck. "Beaky's a good boy, aren't you, Buckbeak?"

Buckbeak flapped his wings in approval. Hagrid half-smiled.