Summary: Flying had been the greatest desire of humans since the beginning of time. OC used.

Warning: Mention of depression, self harm, survivor's guilt.

Flight

Happy memories. Happy thoughts.

Mark took a deep breath and relaxed - his mind getting lost in the meager amount of memories that actually, truly, ever made him happy. To the time when he could still walk, running on his little legs, chasing Andrew around, his elder brother's laughter resonating in his head - a sound he would never hear any more. To the time when his dad would look at them fondly and yell at them to not go near the stream, how his mum would scoff and try to hide her smile, telling their dad that he was the more handful of the three of them. His dad's guffaws as he tried to mess with his wife's hair-

A shimmery, captivating blue silhouette of an eagle burst from his wand.

"Good. Now focus on the patronus and image of eagle - you need to reach into your core and coax the magic-"

Professor Mcgonagall's voice helped him to change the dark route his thoughts were taking.

He was never alright after the accident. Mark's survival was seen as a miracle in the medical community. The repeated thoughts of why he was the one who survived when everyone else was gone was answered when he got his letter at the age of eleven. Supposedly, his magic had saved him from certain death. Because, apparently, being crippled was better than being dead. Because, apparently, it wasn't strong enough to save his family.

He thought he couldn't hate magic more.

Then came Flying class.

As a human, it was a natural dream to be able to fly - to reach for the limitless sky, free from the confines of ground, free from the restraints of gravity - wild and untethered.

Wizards could do that, he realized.

But he couldn't.

Wheelchairs don't fit on brooms after all. And the magic carpet was long outlawed.

He had never hated more. He hated his magic for saving him, he hated his family for leaving him, he hated that drunk truck-driver, he hated the students who flew like it wasn't a privilege -

-and most of all, he hated himself because he couldn't even die properly.

"Focus, Mr. Mason. This is the final stage - you are very close."

He opened his eyes, shook his head and responded with a meek "Yes, Professor," before going back to follow her orders.

Closing his eyes again, he tried to smother his hatred for magic.

He tried to forget how he had wanted to hurt those who pitied him and talked about him in his back.

He tried to bury down the memories of how he had tried to jump off from the moving staircase.

But he focused on how Professor Mcgonagall was the one who found him, stopped him and gave him something to focus on other than the tantalizing invitation of death.

Animagus.

So he threw himself into it. Learning advanced spells, meditating to stop his mind from constantly circling around thoughts of release from the world, controlling his emotions and focusing on just the present, just the task was hard.

But he wanted to fly, he had to - if magic had the galls to take everything away from him, it could at least afford to give something in return.

Mark was overjoyed when his patronus turned out to be an eagle in his Fifth year - his determination had paid off. He would not deny the rare burst of happiness that had blossomed in his chest at the soft, proud smile on his generally strict instructor's face.

And a year later, there he was - at the final stage of perfecting his animagus form.

He felt the unnatural sensation of his body morphing, it was weird - the bones changing, the skin morphing, but surprisingly, it wasn't painful. He felt the feathers grow and his stature became smaller and smaller till he heard clapping.

He opened his eyes, vision clearer than he had ever seen and marveled at the look of pride on Professor Mcgonagall's face.

"Congratulations, Mr. Mason."

His throat let out a high-pitched but weak scream.

He had done it.

He could finally fly.

THC/The Houses Competition.

House: Slytherin

Class: DADA

Prompts: [Action] Flying

Drabble.

Word Count: 681. (With summary and AN: 728)

Beta: charlotteredmond99