Perspiration seeped from every pore in his body. It pooled in the valleys of his folded brow, which was furrowed in intense concentration. His palms became clammy in a few short moments. He itched to rub them off on his trousers, but didn't dare. This was a complicated spell; he knew he had to concentrate.

It was a blustery day, and a bone-chilling autumn wind was scuttling the crisp, curled brown leaves across the grass. The ground here was sodden, mire, swamp, a muddy bank of the great lake by the wizarding school of Hogwarts. This close to the thick reeds, the sounds of nestling moorhens and chirring chicks could be heard. Lichen draped in abundance over even the thinnest branches of the nearby tree. The pastel green strands had grown to extraordinary lengths in the moist weather, and the waving tendrils had become channels for the last drips of the cold showers, which had buffeted Hogwarts for the last fortnight. Now there was a steady patting as more freezing little drips joined a calm pool beneath the sighing tree.

It was a restful place, cool, somewhat refreshing, but still the boy was sweating profusely. He stood rigid, but did not look alert; his habitual shoulder droop prevented that. He was utterly oblivious to his beautiful surroundings, being so immersed in his incantation. Eventually, beads of sweat escaped from his forehead and fell into his eye. Cursing, he broke off the spell to hastily swat them away. He buffed his face with the cotton of his uniform shirt, and felt better. He returned to the incantation, hoping that this time, this time, he would manage it.

It was something he had been researching for months, something he was desperate to master. He was confident that no-one in his class had managed this spell before. He was determined to be the first to learn it, and would be, as usual. He was as stubborn as a donkey when he had to be. He had researched it meticulously in the library, with a furtive foray into the forbidden section for final information. And for the last week he had come down to the lake to try and crack it. Today, he was certain, would be the day he did it. Despite his assurance, it was still proving to be a challenge, even for him.

He screwed his brow once more and began to mutter the crucial words, ''Vido leo, vido felix, vido vacca, vido lupus, vido terra, vido caelo…''

As he continued, the world began to change around him. The tree, the lake, the grass and mud melted away, to be replaced by a field of wild grasses. Clipped hedges fringed the area, which was a precise square. He knew these hedges to be the barriers of his vision. The boy's body was still by the lake, at Hogwarts, but his mind was free to roam in this space. Animals began to fill the field. A snake, a lion, an eagle, a badger. Then people arrived too. He went to each, talking to them experimentally. He found that they did and said what he expected or desired them to. When he was ready, he muttered, ''Finite incantem,''and returned to himself. He staggered slightly; the spell had tired him.

Beaming, he allowed himself to sit. When his exhaustion subsided, he decided to attempt his next spell. This one was simpler, but would perhaps be more exciting and… useful.

He stood once more, took out his wand and said in his most confident voice, ''Summus sum!'' Almost at once he felt a gentle tingling in his hands, which spread along his arms to his shoulders, and then down his body to his feet. His neck and head were unaffected, but considering the effects of the spell, he thought, that was a good thing. Then, as quickly as it had come, the tingling sensation left. He did not feel any different – perhaps it had not worked. He walked over to a large rock not far behind the tree and placed his palm on its rough surface. He clenched his hand over it, and to his joy a great piece of the boulder came away in his hand, crumbling as he applied more pressure. He laughed maniacally, punching the rock repeatedly as he did so, watching his fist break through it like it was paper. The spell had worked to perfection. However, once he was done with the rock, the tingling returned and he sighed, instinctively aware that his sudden strength was being taken from him after just five short minutes. Some improvements would have to be made to the spell.

He waited for the prickly feeling to cease and then walked back round the tree. He was approaching his favourite place by the reeds when he saw the last people he would want to see on earth, sitting where he had been minutes before.

''Hey look there, Padfoot! Moony get your face out of that book, we have a guest!'' James smirked, not even realising in his glee that he had not addressed the whinging Peter Pettigrew.

''Ah,'' purred Sirius, malicious joy in his eyes, ''it looks like Snivellus has decided to pay us a visit.''