Fixing to Fly

Chapter Eight

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"I think everybody knows about Friday," said Brian as they sat down for dinner in the Great Hall. Indeed, an air of excitement permeated the Gryffindor table as its members chattered amongst themselves. Increased levels of spirited conversation at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables seemed to indicate that they, too, had heard the news, and even the Slytherins were showing signs of curiosity. All over the room, quick, questioning glances were continuously being shot at the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.

"Nobody causes chaos quite like our DC," Keely commented as she joyfully consumed a thick, juicy porterhouse steak. Bites of meat were broken up with the addition of mashed potatoes, corn casserole, and buttered French bread, while three individual slabs of pumpkin cheesecake sat flanking her plate, awaiting later ingestion.

On Darcy's plate was a single slice of quiche, sliced strawberries and pears, a mound of salad greens, and her one indulgence, a chocolate éclair. With a sense of amazement, she watched her Scottish friend zealously attack her meal.

"How in the name of god do you eat so much and still stay so thin?" Darcy demanded after Keely had jammed a particularly huge chunk of pink meat into her mouth.

The brunette shrugged and smiled cheerfully. "What can I say? It's a gift. Besides, I—" she cut off, a dangerous look on her face as she spotted an unknowing first-year reaching for one of her cheesecakes. With a speed that was startling, she suddenly had her wand out and pointed menacingly at the first-year as an animalistic growl issued from her throat, causing the younger Gryffindor to yelp and pull away. Keely's smile returned in an instant and as though nothing had happened, she continued, "—balance the foods I eat. See? I've got vegetables. They're healthy."

Darcy didn't think that mashed potatoes smothered in butter and gravy counted as 'healthy,' but chose not to argue as Keely's wand still lay dangerously close within grasp. Instead, she nibbled a slice of strawberry and turned her attention to Oliver Wood, the fourth-year pushing his steak and kidney pie disconsolately around his plate.

"You okay over there, Wood?" she asked, drawing a start from the younger Gryffindor. "Knut for your thoughts?"

"Hmm? I'm okay," he replied and showed her a smile that was undeniably half-hearted. "Just thinking about something." His expression lightened a bit as he gazed at her. "Hey, you maybe wouldn't be able to, you know, give me a hint at who you've chosen for the new Keeper, huh?"

Playfully, she admonished him, "Nice try, smart guy. You know I can't."

He shrugged, attempting nonchalance that Darcy saw easily through. "Just thought I'd ask. Worth a try, right? Not that it matters; it's only four days till we all find out anyway."

"It's not half as long as it seems," she offered with a cheerful smile. "Don't worry, Oliver, you'll be proud of this year's Quidditch and reserve teams. In fact, I think that you'll—" her train of thoughts was interrupted as she spotted Manhattan swooping his way down through the Great Hall accompanied by a small squadron of additional owls. As the others dropped away to their respective owners, the graceful, tawny-faced barn owl circled toward Darcy and deposited a note in her lap before landing gently on her shoulder. She stroked the bird's smooth feathers, fed him a bit of chicken in reward for his delivery, and went about opening her letter as Manhattan took flight once more.

"What've you got?" Keely queried, peering over the blonde's shoulder to read.

"Note from McGonagall; first Prefect meeting of the year starts in about fifteen minutes. Attendance mandatory." Darcy sighed and slipped the paper into her robes. "And I've still got that bloody paper for Snape to write… Oh well. I'll tackle it tomorrow; I've got first and fourth class free. See you guys up in the dorm, huh?" She rose from the table, tucking her uneaten éclair into one pocket for later consumption.

"See you," chorused Brian, Kotter, Loren, and Toby; Keely had her mouth stuffed too full of food to do more than nod.

She flashed them a smile, then sent a last glance at Oliver. He'd stopped mutilating his dinner long enough to give her a quick wave as she departed. Turning on one of her most brilliant, thousand-watt grins for him, she mouthed the words, Don't worry, a last time before joining the line of Prefects slowly filing out of the Great Hall.

* * *

Four long hours after she had left her friends at dinner, Darcy drug herself exhaustedly through the portrait hole and into the welcoming warmth of the Gryffindor common room. The crowd of inhabitants seemed to be a bit thinner tonight, though it was still relatively early. She suspected many of her House mates had already gone up to bed in an attempt to gain back some of the sleep they'd lost the previous night.

A pleasantly warm night breeze was filtering in through an open window, and seated around it were Toby, Keely and Kotter, the latter two looking to be diligently at work on their Potions paper. Over by the empty fireplace, a small group of students had gathered around two third-years who were deep in a game of wizard chess; in an opposite corner, the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, another second year, were taking delight in practicing the new Transfiguration spells they'd learned that day—on Percy's glasses. Darcy could imagine the older Weasley brother upstairs in his dorm, resignedly squinting down at his homework as he'd tired long ago of chasing the twins for his glasses. A few others students were scattered around, engaged in various activities.

The only person she spotted alone was Oliver Wood, concealed in a dimly-lit corner and looking intensely focused as he alternated between scribbling furiously into a ledger he held in his lap and chewing on his thumbnail. She was headed toward him to see what the fourth-year was up to when Keely spotted her.

"Hey, DC! About bloody time you made it back!" the Scottish girl called, loudly enough to make even the two chess players glance up to see what the disruption was. When Oliver spotted her, he instantly slammed his book shut and hurried toward the dorms, managing a hasty smile and goodnight as he passed her. Before she could contemplate following him, Keely's impatient voice demanded, "Hellooo, Darcy? You with it?"

Reluctantly she turned away from the door where Wood had disappeared and joined her friends, falling into a seat beside Toby.

"We brought you back some books from the library," said Keely, depositing a stack of extremely heavy and extremely dusty texts into the blonde's lap. "I've managed to write the majority of my Potions essay with stuff I found in those alone."

"Um, thanks…" Darcy relocated the stack to the floor before she could break into a sneezing fit.

Keely had closed the textbook she'd been working from and was gazing at her friend with keen interest. "So, are you going to tell us what your meeting was about, or is it top-secret Prefect business that you can't share with us common folk?" she teased as she made a mock grab for Darcy's Prefect badge.

Glaring at the Scot, Darcy slipped her robe off and out of Keely's reach. "Sorry to disappoint you, but tonight's meeting, like every other Prefect meeting, was unspeakably dull."

"Yeah, well, it can't be any worse than this History of Magic paper," Toby said, pushing away his own work and angling his chair so he, too, faced Darcy. "So why don't you humor us and tell us about your evening."

The Prefect sighed dramatically, "Fine," and began recounting for them her meeting. It had started off with each Head of House giving a brief—or rather, not so brief—speech to the four assembled Prefects. This was probably the most entertaining portion of the evening for Darcy, as Ravenclaw Head Flitwick fell off his chair halfway through his speech and Snape, head of Slytherin, spent his time subtly bashing all the other Houses. They then moved into the standard recitation of behavioral expectations and setting a good example for the first years. Here she was forced to endure another long lecture from Snape about her apparent lack of control of the Weasley twins. He carried on for nearly an hour, ranting about how "Slytherin students never behaved in such fashions," and how Slytherin Prefect Aiden Bissett, though only a fifth-year, could "at least control his House and properly perform his role as a leader." During this, Darcy nearly broke a rib trying not to laugh; she desperately wanted to tell the potions master he was under the wrong impression if he believed she was trying to stop Fred and George, as half the time it was her who gave them their best pranking ideas. Finally Professor McGonagall stepped in to calm Snape's tirade so they could discuss the upcoming Yule Ball and another event, one that would not be announced to the student body for an additional month—a Halloween Masquerade Ball. (This last thing she left out in her description to Toby and Keely; after all, some things were best left as surprises.) At last the meeting had ended with a brief little remark by Dumbledore, and the four Prefects had stumbled off their separate ways.

"Wow… what a boring life you lead," Keely intoned once Darcy had stopped speaking.

Too weary to argue, the blonde satisfied herself with giving her friend a vile glare. "Just for that, I'm not going to tell you what I learned about the Yule Ball," she said, hitting where she knew it would hurt the party-loving Scot the most.

Immediately Keely protested, "Hey! That's not fair! Tell me! I'll punch you in the thigh!"

"Okay, okay, good god, I'll tell you," Darcy replied, annoyed, as knew her reflexes were too slow from exhaustion at the moment to effectively dodge if Keely decided to hit her. "Jesus, you're like some sort of Scottish barbarian! 'I'll punch you in the thigh…' my god…" As the brunette raised a threatening fist, Darcy added quickly, "Besides, it's not that much of a surprise anyway. Me and Nick Levine are supposed to have dates so we can dance the opening dance, everybody's supposed to wear dress robes, and Dumbledore's going to try and book the Westside Wizards to play."

"Oh my god, the Westside Wizards! Brad and Kyle are so bloody hot!" Keely shrieked, attracting yet another set of curious looks from the rest of the common room's populace.

Toby rolled his eyes in disgust. "I heard they were all gay anyway," he sneered, but Keely was too busy fantasizing about how she would get the autographs of her favorite singers to take much notice of him. Instead he turned to Darcy. "Couldn't you get like, Dan Matthens Band or somebody good?"

Shrugging, the blonde replied, "Not my decision, Tobes."

He sighed, gathered his books, and stood. "And on that depressing note, I'm going up to bed. See if I can't dream up a spell to charm my ears so they only hear good music, no matter what terrible love song the Leftside Lizards are playing."

"I heard that!" Keely growled, looking vengeful. Scrambling together her own papers, she chased Toby up the stairs, no doubt to give him a lesson on the finer qualities of Brad, Kyle, RJ, Norm, and Hoby, the Westside Wizards.

Across from Darcy, Kotter was packing his things back into his bag, preparing to depart as well. When he noticed her watching, the male Gryffindor turned on what he must've thought was a seductive grin and asked her pointblank, "Since Keely will probably be busy harassing Toby for a while, want to go up to your dorm and snog?"

She stared at him for a moment, stuck between amazement at his temerity and amusement at his idiocy. "Well, as difficult as it is to resist an offer like that," she said, wondering if he even noticed her sarcasm, "I'm going to have to decline. Unfortunately, I was unable to spend the entire evening working on my four-foot Potions essay, as you and Keely were obviously doing, so I'm going to attempt to at least get it started tonight. Sleep well though, Kotter. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he muttered back, looking downtrodden as he shuffled upstairs.

Alone now, she took a look around the common room. The third-years' chess game had finally come to a conclusion, players and audience calling it a night, as well as a few of the other small groups that had been scattered about. The Weasleys still remained, but they'd tired of Transfiguring Percy's glasses and were randomly changing the color of Lee Jordan's dreadlocks, who'd dozed off on the floor.

Despite the sense of exhaustion that had claimed her body, Darcy did not feel tired in least. She sat for a long moment in her chair, dreamily contemplating what to do. According to her watch, it was after the eleven o'clock curfew and students were no longer allowed out of their dorms or common rooms, which killed her idea of heading down to the kitchen for a snack. She could, of course, send Fred and George down, or even sneak there herself, but she wasn't feeling particularly lucky tonight and didn't care to lose any House points so early in the year—or have to experience another diatribe from Snape.

When her mind failed to offer any worthwhile suggestions, she contented herself to follow her House mates' example and make an attempt at sleep. She was in no mood to even think about her Potions essay.

She bid goodnight to Fred and George, and after whispering to them a quick spell to turn Lee's dreads plaid and make them stand on end, she slipped upstairs to her empty dorm. She let her subconscious mind do the driving as she changed into a pair of tight black running shorts and a matching tank top, one of the outfits she reserved only for morning jogs and informal Quidditch practices. From her trunk, she removed her Nimbus and the small glass cube she kept her personal Golden Snitch in and sat down on her bed, drawing the curtains around the four-poster. As she stared down at the walnut-sized gold orb, gauzy wings innocently folded within its box, Darcy realized suddenly why she felt so restless.

A flood of eager adrenaline gave her muscles a good wake-up call as she peeked out of her bed curtains and contemplated the open dorm window.

Leaving the encased Snitch on her pillow, Darcy slid off her bed, making sure the curtains were closed completely. With any luck, Keely would believe her roommate was asleep and not bother to check, though it didn't really matter if she did. Darcy had been pulling this particular stunt since her first year and had yet to be caught. Keely, who had several little rule-breaking activities she liked to participate in herself, enjoyed a delightfully mutual "Don't ask, don't tell," policy with her only roommate.

Darcy mounted her broomstick, gave a light kick off the ground, and found herself instantly hovering. Carefully she aimed herself through the window, not desiring to clock her head again on the sill as she flew out. It had taken a full week last time before the bruise disappeared, and in that time, she'd had to deal with friends and teachers constantly asking her how she'd done it.

With a final cautious glance at the closed dorm door, she flattened her body to the broom—and soared out into the clear night sky, feeling a sense of release flood through her as she zoomed across the landscape. She angled straight up for the stars, rolled in midair, then took a drastic dive toward the ground, pulling up just in time to let the tips of her bare toes graze the grass before repeating the process over again, and again. She was the human embodiment of the Golden Snitch, darting and zooming across the sky, untamed; she was bathed by indescribable freedom, the laws of man and gravity no longer applying to her; she was pure joy, in a world where Potions essays and façade relationships and important decisions ceased to exist.

She was alive.

Encompassed by her euphoria, she did not recall her arrival at the Quidditch field, but as the haze of elation faded slowly from her mind, she found herself cruising in lazy figure-eight patterns around the three goal posts on the north side of the field.

"Damn," she murmured to herself with a laugh, running her fingers lovingly over the smooth surface of her broomstick. "I'm going to have to get Brian something really nice for Christmas this year. This Nimbus is a dream."

As though it had heard her, the Nimbus allowed Darcy to do a graceful midair loop. It seemed to respond to her thoughts, moving as she willed it without hesitations or delays, as if they were one entity. No longer broomstick and rider, but a mere gust of wind.

She had completed a full circle of the field before spotting the well-known wooden crate, resting on the ground next to the entrance to the corridor that led to Gryffindor's locker room. Oliver Wood must have placed it there when he'd left the field that morning, though she couldn't imagine why. She drifted down beside the crate, popping the lid and staring at the Quaffle and two struggling Bludgers for a long minute before decisively grabbing the former and taking off back into the sky. It had been nearly five years since she'd played as a Chaser, but the motions were familiar, the Quaffle like an old friend tucked to her side.

Laughing at herself as she enjoyed a bit of playful exuberance, Darcy raced back and forth across the pitch, dodging invisible Bludgers and evading imaginary members of an opposing team. Yet all the while her mind was at work; new tactics were formulated and new plays concocted in preparation for when the opposing team would no longer be imagined and her own attentions would be turned not to a Quaffle, but a Snitch.

For nearly an hour she carried on, until her legs grew stiff and her fingers numb from holding onto the broomstick. A satisfying fatigue set through her being as she returned the Quaffle to its case and swooped back toward the castle, soundlessly slipping in once more through the dorm window.

Her alarm clock boasted the hour as three and Keely murmured softly in sleep as Darcy put away her broom and changed into proper pajamas. Soundlessly she crawled past the curtains into her own bed… and found a short note lying on her pillow.

Darcy,

Looked like you were having fun out there. I think you were born on a broom. Sometimes I envy you.

Keely

Smiling, Darcy carefully folded the note and placed it within the pages of the dog-eared and much-beloved copy of Quidditch Through the Ages she kept at her bedside.

Stretched out beneath her cool cotton sheets and the spread of glistening stars on her canopy above, a drowsy contentment settled over the blonde. For a brief moment in time, all was right in her world, and not a single trouble lingered on her mind to delay sleep from overtaking her. The last vestiges of consciousness drifted away and blessedly, she slept.