There she is, standing before me, wings spread wide, fire spewing from her hellish throat. She is waiting for me, daring me to approach her. It's as though her devilish eyes have communicated every thought, every intent into my brain, warning me against what I am about to do.

My mind races at the speed of sound, clouded by fear, whirling frantically through an infinite void. There should be something there, one single pinch of reason, but there is only a vast sea of nothing. Everything is blank, the way a thing is before you put any time into it.

I can feel my frustration beginning to build. Hermione and I went over this time and time again, but my body too easily resists the commands of my conscience, now rendered helpless by the sight before me.

My Firebolt. I need my Firebolt, but how do I get it? What in God's name was the spell?

A piercing roar sends all thoughts floating away from me, forever scattered as a colossus, brilliant in black, viewing the world from giant yellow eyes looms above me. Her tail coils around the cluster of cement colored eggs that lie peacefully in a nest some thirty feet beyond her sleek ebony body, made obvious only by the glimmering gold of treasure in their midst.

Why can I not remember? How can I not remember?

The great dragon lunges, but I find that my body has scrambled for cover, numb to the impulses of my mind.

Looking up into the screaming crowd, one face stands alone in what seems to be my hour of darkness, but the person to whom that face belongs comes as a surprise to even me. It belongs not to the girl who has prepared me for this moment, nor to my best mate, not even to the headmaster I have so long trusted, admired. No.

The girl in the crowd is Cho, her beautiful face stricken with concern, with fear that seems to rival my own. The mere sight of her seems to bring me to life, to motivate my whirling thoughts and coax them into one direction. It's as though she's willing me to remember, begging me to remember.

Suddenly, an image comes unbidden into my head, an image I find I cannot fight as my disconnected body dodges another torrent of flame.

We are in a large, airy room, Cho and I, empty save for ornate columns lining the walls and silky white curtains fluttering in the slight breeze that wafts through the full-length windows. As she walks towards me, an iridescent gown flowing about her ankles and caressing her figure, I can hear her bare feet pad against the glimmering white marble floor.

She puts her soft, dainty hands on my bare, heaving chest, her gentle touch sending a dreamlike shiver down my spine. I am still aware of the alternating roars of both dragon and crowd as I tumble over the rocks, but they seem to be fading each second, replaced by this new existence. With a slight smile playing across her delicate rose mouth, she leans in and I feel her lips brush my ear. She is so close it seems as though she is becoming a part of me, and as hear the slight intake of breath one takes before one begins to speak, I expect pleasant murmurings of sweet love.

But they never come. Instead, as leans in only one word escapes her throat, barely more than a whisper: "Accio."

Another dragon cry coupled with a river of blinding flame pulls me back and erases the vision. I dive again, my now scraped and bruised limbs flailing as I graze more hard stone, shaken by the realization that I could have exchanged my life for my brief fantasy.

But the word, the spell I'm desperately searching for is now within my grasp. I can feel a smile play unbidden across my stinging, split lips as I match her words.

Accio. Accio Firebolt.