~Broken Wings~
*The Bird That Couldn't Fly*
" Potter."
I smiled ruefully. " Wood."
His face shone in the afternoon light. I had only been on the field for a few minutes and already I was burning. He had been out all day.
He sighed and looked around him. " The place hasn't changed much, has it?"
" Not really." I rolled my sleeves up to maybe cool me down, but I had a feeling it wouldn't help. " Why are you here?"
" Ah, you'll see." He winked with his good eye. The heartwrenching bandage I last saw him with was gone, and scars circled his eye, almost like flames around a sun. He never would have passed for blind in one eye.
I poked him in the ribs. " Come on now, get off your broom and tell me." I regreted the words as soon as I said them.
His face fell and he looked slowly to a group of kids, every class of Gryffindor up to the fifth years, all picking their brooms. Madame Hooch was showing the first years how to summon and mount a broom.
" Oliver....I'm sorry..."
He shook his head. " Naw, it's okay." He took in a long breath. " I'm....." He winced. " I'm used to it."
" How did you..." I stopped myself before finishing the question. I was going to ask him how he had made it two years without flying.
" What?"
" How.....how's your new job?" I asked sheepishly.
He smiled. " It hurts, but I like it."
Hurts?
" What do you mean?"
" You'll see."
I shook my head. " When did you get good at keeping secrets?"
He shrugged. " Two years on the ground changed me."
Madame Hooch whistled shrilly. Silence overtook the field.
Oliver threw me a quick salute. " Ciao, Potter."
He was jogging towards the flight instructor before I could answer.
I watched him run. For as long as I'd known him he'd been a bird. He was still a bird in many ways, like the way he ran so gracefully, almost as if he was in the air. Maybe he was more cat-like on the ground, fluent in his movements and unfaltering, but in almost every way, he was a bird. Even his blue eyes reminded me of a falcon.
" It's a new year," Madame Hooch was saying when I tuned in to her. " A new year brings new beginnings, and new opportunities, as well as new surprises. A surprise for all of you now, and hopefully a new turn in teaching methods, is one almost all of us have known at some point. Graduated two years ago, and now back as the first student-teacher in Hogwarts history, Oliver Wood."
Wood bowed before our clapping hands. I stared at him, eyes wide.
The old bird.
Madame Hooch smiled at Oliver. " Perhaps you'd like to tell the first and second years about yourself."
" Much obliged," he answered, and cleared his throat. " My name is Oliver Wood. I was Gryffindor's Quidditch team captain before Jasmine O'Brien. I started playing Quidditch when I was five in a local Youth Quidditch League in Scotland." He clasped his hands in front of him like a proffessor. " My family moved to London just before my first year here at Hogwarts." He gestured towards Madame Hooch with a smile. " Madame Hooch was my flight instructor, and she moved me to a second year class because of my flying skills. When I was in my second year, I started playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Chaser, but I found later in the season that I was attatched to the position of Keeper. I was switched to Keeper in my third year, and I was made team captain in my fourth. I was captain for three years, until....." He stopped suddenly, looking each of us over. I nodded to him when his eyes fell on me. " Until an accident, which....." He swallowed." .....has kept me from flying since. I found a new captain, O'Brien, who had just moved to England from Italy.....and I dropped out of Quidditch." He looked down. " Though the game nearly killed me and I'm grounded, I couldn't keep away, and proposed the idea of a student-teacher to Proffessor Dumbledor. So.....I help with flying lessons and I supervise the Gryffindor team. I am open to anyone who needs Quidditch or flying tips."
We all clapped politely as he stepped back. Madame Hooch was smiling.
" Wood was one of the best captains we've had, as well as one fine Keeper." She exhaled. " Now if you'll mount your brooms, Wood will hand out a list of warm-ups I expect you to complete each day when you get out here. Practice them, and Wood and I will be available if you need help." She paused, glancing at the first years. Then she nodded to Oliver. " Wood, I'll work with the first years. Just walk around and help those having trouble." She started to lead the first years away before turning and holding up her hands. " Oh, class, before I forget, Wood will not be able to demonstrate the warm-up techniques in the air, but I'm sure he'd be glad to mounted on the ground?" She raised an eyebrow in Oliver's direction.
He shrugged. " Sure, why not?"
" Yes, Wood will demonstrage what you need to know mounted but on the ground. Unless, of course..."
" No," he cut her off. " No."
The bird who could not fly.
No, the bird who didn't dare to fly.
Madame Hooch led the first years to an open area of the field and began showing them proper techniques to use while on broomstick.
" Reckon he'll stay on the ground long?" Ron asked me as he mounted his broom.
I shrugged. " He might. Angelina told me once that no magic could ground him."
" Yeah? Coming back to teach flying and Quidditch is a start, don't you think?" Ron's broom started to rise. " Hey! No! Down!"
I chuckled as the broom tilted upward and Ron fell off.
" That wasn't funny!" he spat from his position on the ground. He rose, grumbling, and took the broom firmly in his hands. " Work with me now, and be good!"
" Yes, Ron. Yelling at it will help." I smiled and mounted my own broom. Ron scowled at me as I kicked off.
" Potter!"
I looked down. Oliver was looking up at me, a stack of white sheets in his hand.
" You troublemaker," he scolded with a grin, " you need a warm-up list."
I nodded. " Yes, Proffessor Wood."
His eyes widened. " Proffessor Wood?" One of his eyebrows raised. The scarred one.
" Would you rather be called Ollie?" Ron asked. He attempted to mount his broom again. It bucked him off and he landed on his rear. " Ow!"
Oliver looked over at him, sighed. " Weasely, right? Fred and George's baby brother?"
Ron scowled and nodded.
" You have to demand respect of a disobedient broom," Oliver told him, kneeling next to him. He took Ron's broom in a hand.
" You talk as if they're alive," Ron muttered, sitting up.
" In some sense, they are. Now, once you grab the broom, you have to command respect with a strong grip. See?" He held the broom out for Ron to see. The broom was still. " Now you take it." He handed the broom to Ron.
The broom wiggled a bit.
" Tighten your grip," Oliver ordered.
The broom ceased to move.
" Now mount it, and as long as your grip is tight, you should be all right." Oliver stood and offered his hand to Ron. He helped my best friend up and handed him a white sheet. " If you need anymore help, don't be afraid to ask."
I landed next to the student-teacher and took a sheet from him. " I see what you mean about this job hurting you," I told him.
He nodded, looked to the sky. " It's not bad. At least I'm back on the field again."
" Think this is your first step to flying again?"
He was silent.
" Sir?"
" Can the sir crap, Potter," he told me. " I don't know what this is. Just a salvation for me, I guess."
" Mr. Wood, sir?"
A blonde third year girl tapped Oliver on the shoulder.
" I need help, sir." She held her broom close.
" Yes." Oliver handed a warm-up list to her. " Have you gotten one of these?"
The third year shook her head. " No, sir."
Oliver smiled. " Don't call me sir, please."
She nodded.
" Okay," Oliver muttered through a long exhale, " what's wrong?"
The third year pointed to a small group of girls, all in the air and spiraling. " My friends can all do the loop and they're laughing at me 'cause I can't. Can you show me how?"
I saw Oliver stiffen. " I.....I don't think I could......" He looked to me for help.
" I could show you," I stepped in, nodding at Wood.
Oliver breathed a quiet, " Thank you," I could barely hear. He patted my shoulder and walked away.
I watched him before turning to the third year and talking her through the steps of the spiral. I showed her soon after, though I messed the loop up my first try, because I was watching Wood. His eyes were on me, almost in envy.
Can't blame him.
I sighed, spiraled again, landed, and closed my wings for Oliver Wood.
" I hear Wood's teading flyig leddons with Hooch," Hermione said, a tissue pressed tightly to her nose.
Ron and I both nodded.
" Id he a good teader?" She sneezed.
" Bless you." Ron handed her another tissue.
She took it from him gratefully. " Thag you."
" Yeah, he's good." I had my eyes on the chess board in front of me. " I think it's his first step back into flying."
Ron pointed at me and cried, " That was my theory! You can't take my theory and not give me credit!"
" Fine, Ron and I think it's his first step back into flying, " I corrected. " Happy?"
" Very." Ron scratched his head, then asked, " Are you gonna move? It's been ten minutes."
I glanced at the board again. " It's a tricky set-up..."
" No," he accused. " You're just delaying losing." He leaned towards Hermoine and pointed at me, whispering very loudly, " He's just delaying losing." He pressed his finger to his lips to tell her to not say a thing, as though it was a secret.
" Funny, Ron. You're a riot." I made my decision. " Knight to B4."
Ron leaned close to Hermoine again, and whispered loudly, " He fell into my trap!"
Trap?
I looked the board over, groaned when I saw my knight was in direct line to Ron's bishop.
" Ron," I moaned. " Would I sacrifice our friendship if I slapped you?"
" Maybe not our friendship, but a few Christmas presents at least." He smirked at me. " Bishop to B4."
His bishop hobbled over to my knight, took it in its stubby arms, and threw it to the ground. The knight failed to break, so the bishop crawled on top of it and started jumping. After the fifth jump the knight broke to three pieces, and the bishop settled on the square, very smug.
" My bishop knows how to take a square." Ron eased back in his chair. " Your move."
I shook my head. " Naw, I'm turning in."
" A'ready?" Hermoine glanced at the clock. " It'd ondy ten!" She sneezed again.
Ron handed her another tissue. " You should go to bed soon. I'm gonna catch your cold if you stay down here."
" You dnow, you could a'ways go up to bed. You dun have to chase me up." She coughed. " Bud your right. I should sdeep. Good nighd, bode of you."
" 'Night, 'Moine." I waved her up the stairs.
Ron stood. " Don't let the bed bugs, or spiders, or worms, or anything like that bite, you hear?"
She laughed and sneezed again. " You're goig to be da death of me, Rod."
" I try." Ron bowed as Hermoine disappeared into the girls' dorms.
I sighed. " Yeah, I've got a few letters to write."
" A few?" Ron cocked his head at me. " A few?"
" Sirius and Wood."
Ron counted out the two people on his fingers. " Uh, Harry, sorry to bust your bubble, but that's only two people. Not a few."
I threw my arms up. " Sue me."
" Can I?" His face brightened.
" Sure. If you learn how." I headed up the stairs.
" Yeah, see how they like us?" I heard him say, probably to his chess
pieces. " They leave us alone. Oh well. Queen to H5, and checkmate."
Oliver,
I don't know where you're sleeping,
probably with the faculty. Hedwig'll find you. If you ever want to come
up to the Common Room, the password is butternut. You're still a Gryffindor,
I guess, so there's no reason you shouldn't be allowed in here.
You can't stay grounded forever, you know.
We all know you're going to fly again. You're a bird, Oliver. Someone told
me no magic could keep you grounded. Someone who I know loves you very
much. I don't think I'm obligated to say who.
Meet me out on the field tomorrow, just
have breakfast. I'll have an hour before my first class, and it'll be before
the heat picks up in the afternoon. It's actually quite warm for September,
don't you think?
It's late, and Hedwig's still got to find
you before you fall asleep.
Sincerely,
Harry
I rolled the parchment up and tied it with a small piece of twine. Hedwig perked up when I removed her from her cage.
" Oliver Wood, girl." I stroked her feathers. She nibbled my fingers. " I'll have another letter when you return, if you're up to a long flight." She screeched encouragingly and I smiled. " This one goes to Oliver Wood." I tied the letter to her talon.
Another blank scroll waited for me beneath the first.
Sirius,
How do you make a fallen bird fly again?
Sincerely,
Harry
I rolled this up, too, tied it, and set it on my trunk for Hedwig. I watched her disappear out the open window.
Her white faded quickly in the inky blackness.
The field grass was still wet with dew, and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. I could still see some stars in the lightening sky, and I wished upon each one that Wood took me up on my request.
" What's the deal, Potter?"
I sighed.
Finally!
I turned to face him, Oliver Wood. He strode over to me, eyes all the while watching above him, at the crows flying through the hoops.
" I can't believe you'll never fly again, Oliver, I just can't believe it," I told him.
His expression became exasperated. " I said I'll never fly again-"
" You said that when it hurt," I interupted.
" It still hurts."
" Maybe. But not like before."
He exhaled slowly. " Harry, I thought I made it clear to you that my wings are closed. Forever."
" Forever isn't that long," I said, grabbing my broom. I took his sleeve in my free hand. " We have an hour, Wood."
He pulled away from me sharply. " No. I can't fly."
I faced him. " You told me once that giving up was a waste of time, only for the weak ones that couldn't go on. You're one of the strongest people I know, so why in the hell are you giving up?"
" I don't need to talk about this. It's done and over for me." He lowered his eyes. " There's a time when each legend has to fold his wings. It's my time."
" But you're not a legend yet!" I cried. " You were on the way to being one, on your way to the top of the teams!"
" Legends die, okay, Potter?" He turned away sharply, began to walk away. " Legends die."
I mounted my broom angrily, launched, and flew in front of him. " Heroes die, maybe, hearts die, but I know your love for the game hasn't died and never will."
He walked right past me.
" You once hid in the showers to hide your failure!" I yelled after him. " You can't hide behind a mask of scars!"
He didn't stop.
" You're lying! A damned liar!"
He walked out of the stadium, ignoring me.
" A bird never closes his wings forever, Wood!"
I had tears running down my cheeks, and I didn't know why. I kicked
off from the ground furiously, flew to the top of the stadium. Peering
over the flags, I watched a small figure storm up the hill to the castle.
He stopped the the bottom of the castle stairs, took one hesitant step
up, and collapsed. He let himself back on the ground, off the stone steps,
head buried in his arms.
A/N: What I had intended as a short story is turning out to be a chapter fic. ^_^ Good. I've got something to occupy me. I usually don't write chapters this close together, time wise, because of life and school, but miracles can happen, right?
