AN: The first exam of the end of my degree is tomorrow, but this chapter is complete and there's nothing like reviews to improve my mood, so, here you are!

Chapter 20: Flight

Severus had to confess to a feeling of smugness and vague glee when he saw what fine company Draco had made; a Weasley, and Potter, and not least, a 'mudfoot'. Luck to him if Harry ever heard Draco say that, Severus suspected that, though forgiveness would be swift, Harry's vengeance would be too. The Granger girl looked shaken but there was a thrilled exhilaration there too, brightness that the young fools too proud and too afraid to leap lacked utterly. He heaved an irritated sigh and set about making staying there with him more frightening than moving.

It was not difficult, to his irritation; ridiculously delicate creatures, even Harry would have been more standfast.

Fawkes set the next target soon enough, while his 'assistants' dealt with stragglers and Severus took a moment to watch as the contingent of children swarmed overhead to jostle for position. The Nott child was watching Draco with some intensity, and Parkinson looked mortally wounded that Draco had so much as touched a 'mudfoot', if her glares at Granger and longing looks at Draco were anything to go by.

Of the Old Sky, Malfoy Senior and his kind, many had children of the current generation, born in the height of war when the Dark Lords forces were dizzy with victory after victory. It would not go amiss to warn the Boy-Who-Lived of his foes, but to tell Harry that he had anything to fear, here? His chest grew cold; it could wait until Harry's blood-oxygen capacity reached normal levels, Severus could not bear the horror of seeing Harry choke on his own fear again, as hard as the war may have made him.

No, it would be Draco who would need the warning. For now, many did not know what manner of man Harry was, but Draco had the weight of his name's legacy on his shoulders and it was not a light burden. To see him associating with a Weasley would defy expectations and if Harry retained Granger's friendship there would be a planet-born in the mix. Parkinson had personal reasons to spit and hiss at any encroaching romantic interest, but she would not be the only one to take note and be displeased with the Scion of Malfoy.

Severus cursed quietly to himself as the first year he was minding disintegrated into a gibbering mess, repeating that he was afraid of heights, over and over. "By the stars child, THERE IS NO DOWN."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Needless to say, Harry slept well that night. Hedwig had been delighted by Fawkes' exercises, Draco and Ron hadn't had a flaming row more than twice, and Hermione had been able to relax, finally, when helping the red-head learn his Comms homework. She was weird, but whatever.

Ron's prediction about chicken had been correct; Harry noted the transition from agricultural to aquicultural foods at dinner. He rather liked the idea that what there were eating had been grown and bred in space, and it didn't hurt that the fish was tender, the potato-like things were peppery and salted and the strange, stringy green stuff tasted like the sea. There was brief speculation about the little whats-it's that laid the table, but Draco and Ron actually ganged up on the two, naive planet-raised and explained.

Later, after only an hour or so in the common room where they had had their briefing, Harry had headed to bed, Hedwig already falling asleep against his chest.

The large, upwards curving corridor was mostly empty, but the laughter and chatter coming from the various public spaces meant that it was far from quiet. He walked slowly, stroking Hedwig and half listening to conversations, but not truly paying attention to what they were saying.

He descended into their little dorm, finding only Blaise Zabini sitting in a half-twilight, and watched as his feet made swirling patterns of light on the carpet. It was mesmerising, but not enough to catch more than idle attention as he made for his bed; Flight training would begin tomorrow, and Harry had a feeling he would need the sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the morning, the boys were buzzing; Flight class would be that afternoon. Ron and Draco started out early with an argument about which Quidditch position was the best. As far as Harry could tell, Neville was beyond nervous and he kept checking something on his data pad that glowed red and made him more and more jittery. His one attempt to ask Neville something resulted in a nervous tic and a dropped data pad. He didn't try again, though Hedwig was looking longingly at the locust colony Neville kept for Trevor.

Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle were still mysteries, really, but even they were bright-eyed and excited. It took the deathly boredom of History of Space-Flight a whole quarter of an hour to subdue the class into sleep; Harry couldn't believe how dull Binn's was, and he wasn't even in the room! The faintly see-through projection never turned to look at them again, once class had started, and the monotonous drone of his voice was making him sleepy.

Three-fifths of the class was asleep by the end and Harry had spent the last half-hour avoiding listening, himself. Hermione was scowling at them all, and Draco was looking superior as he saved his perfunctory notes, but Neville, Ron, and the boy from the dorm-next-door, Seamus, were fast asleep, while Hermione's roommate, (Rosemary? No, Lavender.) was wedged in her chair a little more delicately, but also sleeping. He could only see the backs of the rest of the class, but most of them were floating in their chairs, listlessly or talking quietly to a neighbour.

He had a feeling that if they turned up to Professor Snape's class like this, he'd gut them, as gentle as the man was with Harry's personal weaknesses.

When the chime went for the end of class, Harry was surprised by the sudden rush of movement as people jerked out of their stupors and raced for the door. There wasn't much walking going on, that was for sure; Ron was showing his upbringing and making no concession to 'down' at all.

Only half the class was headed inwards, towards the spine to Professor Snape's class, Harry's dorm for the boys and Hermione's for the girls. The rest, of whom he knew the name of only one, Zacharias Smith, were headed for Comms.

It wasn't a long route today, though they had been warned that the modules moved about periodically, and they soon joined another group outside an airlock. Instead of heading straight in, like they had for other classes, they had to wait outside, because the bulkhead door was locked.

"Oh Draco! It's wonderful to see you, isn't this timetable simply terrible!" Harry's head spun at the squeal, finding one of the sneering girls from Comms hanging onto Draco's arm. Parkley? Parklin?

"Pansy. Good morning." Draco replied, a little coolly, and pulled his arm away. "I'm finding no issue with it myself."

Something Harry did find a little strange was that Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise had gravitated to the group forming around the blonde. He retreated to where Ron and Hermione were queuing up, feeling a little uncertain about how Draco was going to act. Given their discussion, Harry suspected there was a lot going on here, more than he was aware of.

"Bloody Purists. I'll put up with Malfoy, for you Harry, but he's pushing it, talking to them." Ron muttered, glaring at the group. Hermione was nose deep in her tablet, but her eyes weren't moving, as if she was listening to them instead.

"I think he's got appearances to keep up; would your dad be pleased if you started associating with his enemy?" Harry asked quietly,

Ron didn't have time to answer as the door opened with a quiet hiss, revealing Professor Snape, in full black uniform, standing in the airlock.

"In, all of you." He barked, glaring at those who weren't in line. "Pets stay in the airlock. Your fermentation tanks have been placed in the racks on the spineward wall, retrieve them immediately. Move!"

There was a scramble as people with pets set them in the cubbies while the airlock cycled to a slightly higher pressure, popping Harry's ears. Hedwig had apparently had enough of being away from Harry, though and wouldn't let go of his finger until he had plied her with food. He was the last through into the classroom and got one of Snape's lesser glares for his trouble. He double-timed it to his ferm-tank, and quickly found a desk near Neville, behind Hermione. Draco was over with the people Ron had called 'Purists', but his face was a cold mask again and Harry couldn't tell if he was being political of annoyed.

Tension was high throughout the lesson and Harry could feel it wearing him down; he stirred, chopped, ground and measured to Snape's instructions, and his gel, a simple one for treating burns, came out as it should. However, by the end of the lesson, he had to linger, had to let the others go ahead of him because he needed something from the Professor, something he had never asked for before.

Once they were alone, Harry looked to the deck beneath his feet and took a deep breath. He heard Hedwig scuttling across the room to him and her warm fur against his throat gave him the courage he needed. Slowly, because he wasn't sure if his Professor would understand, he edged closer and put one hand on his lapel, head down and limbs trembling just enough to be visible.

In an equally slow moment, Snape gathered Harry into the hug he needed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It only took half a minute for Ron and Draco's arguing to become audible, but half a minute was enough, and Snape helped him get his boots back to the metal. "You have done well, Harry, they're arguing over Quidditch, rather than each other's throats."

"Draco's trying, sir, he... he's going against his dad," Harry mumbled, sniffing halfway through.

"Your cold appears to be coming along..." Snape tipped his head around, briefly touched the glands in his throat and smirked, "You'll be good and infectious by this evening."

"Yesir." He replied with a lopsided smile, "I'll make sure to give it to everyone."

"Indeed. Hold in mind that the one who doesn't get it is most likely the one who gave it to you." Harry blinked twice, then smiled a little.

"Well then, that's good to know, isn't it."

"Leave. You have minions to arbitrate." Snape said, saying nothing to encourage mischief, this time.

"They're not minions..." Harry muttered, mostly to Hedwig, as he left. "See you in Flight, Professor."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"For some of you, this will be the most important training you ever receive! Others will be so hopeless, that you will fail this class, and be glad of it! The rest, we shall see."

Fawkes and Madam Hooch were standing just behind Snape; it looked like they'd be helping him out. This time they were gathered, twenty of them, in a hangar and dressed in close-fitting conduction shirts, helmets and gloves. Their arm-guards and kneepads were fitted sideways to cushion a blow to the outside of the joint and they had already run equipment checks. Above and to the side of the gathered platoon, battered machines hung in racks, poised as if to drop out at a moments notice. They were things of struts and braces in a cage about a man-sized engine stock, who's eerie light shifted and rippled.

"Only by flying yourselves can you learn the intricacies of free-space. Only by flying yourself will you earn the right to raise a ship of your own."

The hangar was so big that the outer wall was only one layer of bulkheads away from the Black and it ran the whole width of the ship in one continuous cylindrical space. Through the middle ran the spine itself, ringed in spiralling girders and hung with maintenance equipment.

"The contraptions you see around you are Stratus Twelve's, and you won't learn anything standing around, no matter how fancy your helmet! Pick a beast, and get to it!" Snape finished on a half-shout. The students scattered, each headed for a Stratus. Brief squabbles over ones with fewer scratches popped up, and died down again, while Harry went for one on the end that had yet to be claimed. Fawkes' lesson the day before was making a difference; Snape didn't have to yell at anyone to get them moving this time, but in all honesty, Harry wasn't paying attention to much but his Stratus.

Battered, yes, scratched, yes, but alive. The core hummed at half power, already reaching out to Harry through the intervening air. The shell opened for him, the struts shifting out of the way as he reached for the padded seat inside. Like a motorbike, it had a long, flat bench that was heavily padded to cushion chest and belly. Unlike any planet-bound vehicle he had ever seen, five glowing barriers shimmered around the body, one for each limb and one to bind his torso down.

The knowledge was already there; the Stratus knew how it was used, and Harry mounted with a dazed wonder. The barriers around his legs pulled calf and foot close against the core, while he slipped the restrainer over his back. With a quiet thrill, he put his arms in the fields of the remaining barriers and they guided his hands to the controls, before binding his arms safely. The strap over his back tightened and the connection became active; his Interface flared its own particular blue and the Stratus came awake. Its core roared to Harry's ears, begging to be flown, to cut through distance, but it was still locked into the clamps holding it to the spine.

His attempt to release them failed; Poseidon denied him gently enough, and he turned his attention to Fawkes, who was instructing them to disengage and then hold position.

"Go." he called calmly, and Harry was off; Poseidon ceded the clamps to his control and he eased them away from his Stratus' belly.

The class was filled with the clunk and hum of clamps, and the light of the Stratus' engines turned the space blueish. Snape and Fawkes were moving along the line swiftly, looking and commenting on position and control, but a Stratus just in front of Harry was wobbling wildly. The professors had yet to see, and Madam Hooch was too far away; the tiny ship with its delicate pilot was accelerating, straight towards the outer hull.

It was a split second decision, if it could even be called that, and Harry was off; the engine barked beneath him, his hands twisted automatically on the controls and he came alongside the wayward ship. Neville.

He looked so utterly terrified, struggling against the restraints and trying to bail out. He was already moving too fast; even if he got out, he would be thrown against the hull, so the Stratus wouldn't let him. Harry couldn't make a barrier large enough to catch him, but Poseidon could, with a little direction so he cried out through his Interface; he needed something to connect the two Stratus' hulls together. By cutting the engine and flipping over, like he had in jump class the day before, Harry matched Neville's speed and bound the two hulls together with the barrier Poseidon provided.

A gentle tap on the engines started them slowing down, going gently to full burn over half a second and stopping dead in the air, cutting the engine again. The deceleration was a little strong, but brief and a single deep breath put Harry's head back on strait. As soon as they stopped, Neville's Stratus allowed him to let go and he curled up on himself, sobbing, his hands safely away from the much-abused controls.

Hooch and Snape were getting the rest of the class docked again, while Fawkes was coming alongside already. Harry came out of his adrenalin fuelled tension and slumped loosely in his harness in relief; Neville wouldn't need the Infirmary today, at least. The Pilot gently extracted the terrified child from his ship and Harry found himself benefiting from the soothing nonsense he was muttering.

"Go on now, Mr Potter, dock while we work out the fault that caused this little mess. Five points for excellent presence of mind." Fawkes said softly, disengaging the tether between the two ships. Harry nodded and leaned forwards to just touch the accelerator and coast back to the spine.

Snape was there to meet him, looking a little thunderous, but said nothing until he was docked and the engines powered down again. "Fine flying Mr Potter, but if you ever countermand my instructions again, I will personally restrict you to the infirmary, whether you need it or not." He growled as he ran a diagnostic on Harry's dashboard, his wireless connection buzzing and clicking and beeping in Harry's Interface.

"Yes sir." He replied with a gulp, feeling decidedly anxious about the glower on his teacher's face.

"Just like your father... reckless and irreparably noble... and ridiculously proficient in a boat..." the man muttered irritably but apparently satisfied by his results, giving the Stratus a literal green light, on the top right of the HUD. The whole class was looking around, starting to talk and becoming restless.

Harry was restless himself; flying like that, fast, without thinking; he couldn't wait to move like that again.

"Alright, let's try that again; kindly try to avoid accidental suicide this time." Snape barked, and Harry hunched over his controls with a grin. For the next two hours, they spun through the enormous hangar, gaining speed, making turns, and following Fawkes through projected rings that tickled you mercilessly if you clipped them. The class seemed split fairly evenly between the nervous and the ridiculously excited, though Neville did not return from wherever Fawkes had sent him with Hooch

Nearing the end of the lesson, as the hangar emptied out and everyone else put into dock Harry took a last, excited lap around the spine, whipping past fast enough that the air blasted into his face and he could feel the blood being pressed out of his head. He pulled back at the last minute, using braking jets to slow and come in to dock. The blood thrummed back into his skull and he shook the dizziness off with a grin; it was already better than it had been at the end of August.

He climbed out of the Stratus easily, the restraints retreating with a brief command, and pulled himself towards the lockers. He past Snape on the way; the man gave him a brief nod before turning back to Neville's ship, having no luck finding a malfunction.

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that there hadn't been one; the look on Neville's face had been a bit telling.

As he reached the lockers with the rest of the class, a sneeze that had been building up for what seemed to Harry to be ages, finally erupted and wasn't quite caught in time. Harry sniffed and apologised, but was largely ignored; he smirked and glanced back at Snape, who sent a square of fabric spinning in his direction with a raised eyebrow. Harry caught the handkerchief and wiped his nose before putting his borrowed helmet back.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That evening at dinner, Hedwig scuttled off unexpectedly; Harry watched her with a slightly concerned frown, but she scampered to the teacher's table and appeared on Hagrid's shoulder. He handed her a little chip of barrier and a morsel of food, which she ate messily, before shooing her back to Harry. She glided most of the way, leaping off Hagrid's shoulder and steering expertly with her tail, then scampered over and up his leg. She shoved the little blue chip into his hand and went for his dinner while he was distracted.

It expanded out from its longest side, as if it was unrolling, revealing a note, inviting him to Hagrid's for tea after lessons the next day. He looked up at the head table and gave his big, bearded friend a 'thumbs up', getting a beaming grin in response.

As he went back to his food, he glanced along the table at Neville; the third in a line of such looks. He looked fine, and dean and Seamus were apparently talking about something interesting to keep his attention, but Harry couldn't get the look on his face, that fear, out of his mind... Reluctantly, he turned back to his food, just in time to rescue Hedwig from a toppled glass of blue juice.

She looked terribly pleased with herself and leant down from his hold and licked at the growing puddle, while Draco sighed heavily and tapped on the table. One of the little robots came up through the serving hole in the middle of the table to clean up the mess.