June passed by in a blur of dense fog, chilly air, and intensive lessons. After a month, I still hadn't been able to conjure a Patronus Charm. Professor Smith hadn't offered to demonstrate since the first and only time she had. For whatever reason, the idea seemed to repel her as much as the notion of behaving did to James and Sirius.

Even though my Stunning Spell and Shield Charm were nearly flawless, I still had trouble mastering the difficult skill of Occlumency, which, unfortunately, meant that I was susceptible to anyone who had an intermediate grasp on Legilimency. This was a fact that Professor Smith reminded of annoyingly often.

"Mackenzie Folsom is probably the most skilled Legilimens in the world." She said for the thousandth time as the July sun – more intense that I could remember than any other time in my life – baked us as we flew over the countryside sprawling like a patchwork quilt outside of the village of Bellinghall. "Second only to Voldemort. You really need to keep working at this."

Though invisible, I could still feel the thestral's wings beating as we glided to the base of one of the towering mountains. It was flying at an angle, steadily rising upwards with the slope.

I held on tighter, feeling the hot July air beginning to chill. I gritted my teeth together to keep myself from venting my frustrations at my teacher. Didn't she know how hard I was trying? Didn't she understand how much I understood the reality of my situation? Somethings just didn't click quickly. Other things didn't click at all.

"Amber, please. Don't ignore me. I know this is hard for you. But you must continue to push through this, even if you don't understand all of it yet. Don't quit on me yet."

I rolled my eyes, thankful she couldn't see. The thestral climbed higher, and now goosebumps crawled across my flesh. We were climbing so high that the air was thinning and colder than ever.

"Where are we going?" I called over my shoulder, wishing I had worn a jacket or a sweater.

"To the top." Professor Smith replied.

My brows lifted in surprise, but I decided not to disclose my true feelings about that. I didn't want to annoy a witch who had a basilisk as a Patronus.

The patchy clouds and fog pressed in from all sides, until only the brown ridge was visible. A moment later, the thestral landed gracefully on a rocky ridge. Professor Smith slid off smoothly; I copied her, but stumbled since I didn't see the invisible hoof of the creature as I descended.

She patted the thestral's flank - which looked like just a spot of air - and nodded in approval. I heard the flutter of the wings as it lifted off and disappeared.

"Is it coming back?" I asked doubtfully. "We're not walking down, are we?"

"No, we aren't." Professor Smith said crisply. "Follow me, please."

Frowning, I followed her as she picked her way around rocks and boulders. Some were the size of a throw pillow; others the sizes of baby elephants. It was frigid up here, a slight, constant wind chilling the temperature even further. My teeth chattered slightly. Professor Smith's black cloak billowed out behind her.

"Did you bring a coat?" She asked without looking over her shoulder.

"N-no." I admitted dully.

She halted, glancing over her shoulder. "How good is your Summoning Charm?"

I blinked. "You mean I can do magic outside of school? Without getting into trouble?"

"Dumbledore has already explained your situation to the Ministry of Magic." Professor Smith informed me. "In addition, you are with me."

Your situation. She made me sound like some kind of invalid with special needs. Like a straightjacket or heavy medication.

I drew my wand and gave it a flourish. "Accio sweater!"

Professor Smith looked over, into the thick white fog, where the ridge dropped off into a steep ravine for hundreds of feet. A few seconds ticked by. My fingers were so numb I couldn't even feel them wrapped around my wand.

"Try again." She suggested, just as a gray shape appeared out of the fog and crashed into me.

I shook my head, startled, and held the gray woolen sweater with my other hand. Professor Smith looked half-amused, half-impressed.

"I guess I got it." I muttered, pulling the sweater over my head, the hood hanging behind my neck. Instantly, my hands regained feeling as heat and warmth gathered underneath the thick wool. I sighed in relief.

"This way." Professor Smith said, resuming her determined pace. I hurried after.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" I panted as I hastened after her.

"I think it would ruin the surprise." Professor Smith answered evasively. "Just wait. And be quiet. Try not to speak. We don't want to alarm it."

Filled with trepidation and annoyance, I closed my mouth as I clambered around thousands of pebbles and rocks. I skirted around a huge boulder, the size of a small house, wand stowed for better balance. We walked in silence, broken only by the clattering rocks disturbed by my feet.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Professor Smith asked quietly after ten minutes.

"No, not really. If I was, I don't think I would have been Sorted into Ravenclaw."

"What makes you say that?" Professor Smith said, slowing down.

"Well… you know." I avoided a charred branch, blackened with soot. "Our House lives in a tower. The tallest one in the school, except for the Astronomy Tower."

Professor Smith didn't reply. She was definitely slowing her pace. And she looked much more cautious.

"Amber," she said in a low voice, "I want you to stay behind me. Or beside me. Do not go before me."

This was definitely not what I signed up for when I agreed to summer lessons. But instead of letting fear overwhelm me, I swallowed against the dryness in my throat and nodded. "I understand."

"Good." She drew her wand. "You know the Water Making Spell?"

"Yes, of course." I said immediately, confused by where she was going with this.

She gave her a wand a small flick. Immediately, the thick white clouds lifted.

My jaw dropped open.

We were standing just fifty feet from the lip of a massive cliff that plunged well over half a mile down. It curved in a half-arc, broken rocks and straggling vines clinging to the face of the steep cliff. Beneath the mountain face, a wide, green valley spread like a blanket between the mountain we stood on and another looming one, miles away. The clouds and fog swirled around swiftly, repelled by some kind of spell that Professor Smith had cast.

The view was incredible and terrifying, but that was not what had driven all thought from my mind.

Perched and gliding on the cliff face were several green shapes. Winged green shapes.

Dragons.

"You see why I asked you to be careful?" Professor Smith said.

I could only gape.

I watched as a dragon flapped its wings and perched on a treacherous outcropping of rocks. Distantly, there was a tiny chorus of chirping and squealing.

I approached Professor Smith on leaden legs. "Are those…"

"Baby dragons. Yes. These are a colony of dragons that have been placed here by the Ministry of Magic. Can you tell me what species they are?"

I stared at the dragons, trying to count them. There were at least twenty, flying in and out of sight, landing and taking off again.

"Common Welsh Greens." I answered, still stunned. "I didn't know they could survive in Scotland."

"Dragons exist around the world." Professor Smith said. "And Welsh Greens prefer higher elevations, such as the Grampian Mountains. The climate here isn't much different from Wales."

"I never knew." I breathed. "I mean, we're not far from Bellinghall, are we?"

"Only about fifteen miles." She said. "They're under protection and conservation, so this information is usually kept from the wizarding public. However, I thought it would make for a nice field trip. Part of Defense Against the Dark Arts isn't just spellwork. It's also about identifying dangerous creatures and knowing how to defend yourself from them, or how to harness their power. Do you know where a dragon's vulernability is?"

A large green dragon swooped in front of the ledge, barely fifty feet from us, soaring upwards. It let out an earth-shaking, melodic roar.

"I… uh…" I blinked, entranced. "The eyes are weak points. But so is the throat. They're fireproof. I can't really think of anything else."

"That's because dragons are notorious for having extremely few vulnerabilities." Professor Smith said as a dragon coasted above us like a jet plane, its underbelly clearly visible. It ejected a jet of blue-orange flames over the ravine.

I swallowed nervously, awed by the dragons, but also fearing for my life. What would stop them from realizing that we were made of tasty flesh?

"When it's cloudy and cool, they tend not to hunt." Professor Smith went on, watching the dragons without a hint of fear. "I've also put an Invisibility Charm over us. They can smell, but with the wind, they won't be able to pinpoint our location."

Another dragon passed overhead, so close that I could see the tiny black slit of its pupil.

"I think they know we're here." I eeked out.

"I'm sure they do." She answered calmly. "But we're safe. We can always Apparate, if they do manage to find us."

I turned and stared at her. She gave a small smile without glancing back. "Do you think I'm a dragon too, Amber?"

"No." I answered. "I just think you're a little too… bold... for a Hufflepuff."

She laughed once. "That isn't the first time I have been told that. Several professors and students told me I would have been an excellent Slytherin."

"No kidding." I muttered. I watched the dragons flit around for a few more minutes, the wind whipping my long hair into my eyes. "Professor Smith… why did you bring me here, again? Just to observe them?"

She nodded. "Partly. I also want you to think about the world you live in. You live in a small town in Scotland. You grew up there. But there are many secrets waiting to be discovered that you didn't have an inkling about until today. Think about Hogwarts. What kinds of secrets lie in wait for you there?"

I frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that I should go looking for tunnels and secret rooms at Hogwarts?"

"I'm trying to tell you to look beyond what you think you know. My lessons with you will only last a few more weeks. Soon I will have not just a few students, but hundreds, to teach. For example, what would you do if Mackenzie showed up on your third day back at school? What if you were alone on the grounds?"

My mind reeled. "I would use the Patronus Charm-"

"Which you still haven't mastered." Professor Smith interrupted. "What else? What are his weak points?"

I thought hard. Definitions and vocabulary terms swam up at me from the recesses of my mind. "Uh… I would stay in the sunshine."

"Which he isn't affected by anymore." She said swiftly. "What else?"

My palms began to sweat. I hadn't thought about Folsom in over a week. I had been too focused on lessons and trying fruitlessly to learn the Patronus Charm. "I'll wear a cross around my neck to keep him from biting me."

Professor Smith gave a small grimace. "That's not enough. Come on, Amber. What have I been teaching you all of these weeks?"

My frustration built as I realized that this outing hadn't just been a field trip. It had also been a test.

"I would use Occlumency."

"Against one of the most powerful Legilimens in the world?"

"I don't know!" I snapped. "What else is this? A wooden stake? I don't know!"

Professor Smith leaned back, regarding me with those calculating, shrewd green eyes. I glared back, before turning my attention back to the dragons. "I don't know, alright? I don't know. He's immune to almost everything. I would… I would probably die if he found me."

"Do you see why I brought you here now?" Professor Smith said seriously. "Dragons, like vampires, are very powerful creatures. Mackenzie happens to be an exceptional vampire in the ways that he has eliminated most of his vulnerabilities. But even dragons have their weak points."

"Folsom is afraid of werewolves." I said aloud. "He can't touch a werewolf."

"Maybe." She said dismissively. "But that's not good enough. Remus Lupin won't always be by your side. You haven't seen him in over a month. Has he written to you?"

My cheeks warmed. "No, he hasn't. What does that have to do with anything?"
"It has everything to do with it." Professor Smith swept on, looking extremely stern. "Just because it is illegal to read owl post, doesn't mean some wizards and witches don't do it. I believe Mackenzie is fixated on you and is waiting for you to become vulnerable. And if he knows that Remus Lupin isn't in your company, he will wait for a chance to strike. And he isn't the kind to be merciful."

Her tone and abrupt switch from an exhilarating field trip to a terrifying dose of reality made my head spin and palms sweat. I wiped them off on my pants, wishing I had something to drink for my desert-dry mouth. "So what do I do?" I asked dully. "It sounds like I have a death sentence."

"The enemy never has the final say, as long as you're still willing to fight for what is right." Professor Smith urged. "Don't give in. This is why it is crucial for you to master the Patronus Charm. For now, it seems that that is your only real protection from Mackenzie. Like how a dragon has many protections, one of its forms of defense is that it is immune to burns and flames. My job is to do the same for you. Make you fireproof."

I raised my gaze to the dragons, feeling despair drown out every positive feeling or memory I would need to conjure even a noncorporeal Patronus. "I don't know why I can't. I'm so good with Charms. It doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't." Professor Smith agreed. I could feel her green gaze pierce me as I looked back at her. "Is there something I need to know?"

I stared back blankly. "Like what?"

"For example, have you ever murdered someone?"

In spite of myself, cold horror washed over me. My mouth dropped open. "No… no! Of course not! Why would you even say that to me? I'm twelve."

"Voldemort was ten when he murdered his first victim." Professor Smith said coolly. "Have you ever done something that violated the laws of nature? Is there something you are guilty of that renders you incapable of producing a pure spirit guardian?"

I stared at her, completely insulted by her point-blank implications. "I can't believe this." I snapped. "This is so stupid. You're accusing me of evil things! I would never, ever murder someone or torture them! Or do something that 'renders me incapable' of making a Patronus!"

She pursed her lips. "What if it was by accident?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I shook my head, to clear it. Maybe I was hallucinating from the high altitude. Maybe I was hearing this because I was crazy.

But Professor Smith wasn't backing down. "Amber, this is serious. Your life could be in jeopardy because of something you're withholding. In order to produce a Patronus, you must have a pure heart. I'm not doing this to interrogate you or have you spill your darkest secrets. You don't have to confess anything to me. However," she said, and she held up a hand to signify the importance of her next words, "you must look within yourself and do some soul-searching, for lack of a better term. Is there anything in your life that you've done that you feel responsible for, or guilty for, that ended in something unpleasant or evil?"

I turned away from my teacher, fuming. And sick to my stomach.

"No." I said firmly. "I can't believe you'd even ask such a thing."

I expected her to explode with rage, like Mum would, and call me out for my insolence and attitude. I expected her to pitch me over the ledge and let the dragons fight over me. I expected her to be angry. To say something.

But she didn't do anything of those things. She watched me again in silence for a long moment that dragged out, until my heartbeat was racing in my ears and saliva filled my mouth. Then she gave a simple nod.

"Very well. But I must impress upon you the seriousness of the situation. You are twelve, but you are also almost thirteen. You are no longer a child, Amber. You aren't an adult, either, but you must grow. I am not your mother or family, but I am your teacher, and I was appointed to protect you and teach you. Some lessons are hard to learn, no matter how much we are willing to negate the pain."

I watched a pair of green dragons circling each other in the air, a double helix of competitiveness. I folded my arms across my pounding chest, trying not to show her how much her inquiry had shaken me. "So you're saying that if I can't figure out how to conjure a Patronus before Folsom is defeated…"

I watched one dragon slash viciously at the other. There was a flash of red from the neck of the dragon, and then it went still. It fell, its limp wings fluttering in the breeze as it disappeared out of sight over the edge of the cliff.

"Then you might die." She said.

I thought of Virginia, gone at barely eleven years old, her life sapped by the illness that had taken over her body like a parasite. And, finally, when she had been on the mend, she had died as suddenly as a candle being extinguished. And it had been my fault.

All my fault.

I shut my eyes tightly, pursing my lips together so hard that they stung with pain. I didn't want to admit the horrible truth. Maybe that was the reason why I couldn't produce a Patronus. I didn't want to admit to anyone, not even God, that it had been my doing that caused Virginia to die.

I would rather die than confess it.

Professor Smith cleared her throat. "In the meanwhile, since you are still learning how to produce a Patronus Charm, let's switch gears. Can you tell me how to differentiate between a werewolf and an Animagus?"

"Do we really have to do this today?" I said wearily. Thinking of Virginia and sealing off my guilt to fester inside made me tired and feeling old. I sat on a boulder and watched the dragons, constantly in motion, always on the move.

Professor Smith gazed down at me. "We can finish for the day, if that is what you wish."

"It is." I hunched my shoulders against the cold, which pierced through my sweater to my core.

Professor Smith waved her wand once. "We'll be flying down."

I looked up in mild surprise. "How? Thestral?" My eyes traveled to the dragons roaring and gliding nearby. "We aren't flying on those, are we?"

She laughed once. "Only if you wanted to die. Dragons can't be ridden. The last wizard to ride one was eaten alive. No, wizards and witches can't ride dragons. It's suicide."

I shrugged, but the thought stuck. There was a way out, if I ever needed one. A quick, terrifying, exciting, fatal ride on a dragon. Just fifteen miles from home.

Two broomsticks zoomed up the side of the mountain and halted, slightly quivering, by Professor Smith's sides. She mounted the one to her left and indicated to the vacant one. "Climb aboard."

I approached, filled with misgivings. The last time I had ridden a broomstick, I had wound up in the infirmary for a whole day.

"It's just like riding a thestral." Professor Smith assured me. "And if you fall, I will catch you."

Already, my palms were sweating again. "But we're so high up."

She shrugged. "If I don't catch you, the dragons will. Come on."

Heart pounding again, I climbed aboard the second broom. I gripped the handle tightly, until my knuckles stood out, white, against my pale skin.

Professor Smith took off down the slope. Her charm had worked, because the dragons were blind to us. I watched her disappear down the flank of the mountain, and wanted to cry. I was so high up that I knew if I fell, I would surely die.

But she said she would catch me. Besides, riding a thestral hadn't been so bad. Being in the air, flying, was more of a thrill than anything I'd ever experienced in life.

Still.

I was so high up that I could see for miles, until the thick clouds blocked the landscape from view. It was beautiful, and I knew that in the fall months, the foliage would be incredible to behold.

But now, I was alone and unprepared.

I took a final steadying breath. Be brave, Gryffindor. The Ravenclaw half of me screamed in protest as I guided the broom forward slowly, toes brushing against the rocks, approaching the terrifying plunge at the lip of the cliff. This is not smart. This is bad. This is stupid! Don't do it!

But the other half of me won over.

Do it. Bravery in the face of danger is more courageous than words.

I shut my eyes and tipped over the edge.

The wind screamed in my face, blasting my hair back and whistling in my ears. I quickly reached maximum velocity and let out a squeak of fear through my tightened throat. The rocks blurred past my vision, which streamed with tears from the force of the wind. My hands clenched the handle so hard that I lost all feeling below the elbow. I was horribly aware of how I wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

God, God! I don't want to die! Oh, God!

But after a few seconds, I realized that I was still alive. Even though my heartbeat was pulsing through my body like a war drum and I could hardly see, the weightlessness and freedom was beginning to override the ghastly sensation of falling.

I wasn't falling. I was flying.

With leaden arms, I slowly raised the handle of the broomstick. The broomstick obeyed my motion and pulled upwards. I let out a little scream of fright and quickly guided it back down. The broomstick leveled out. Now, instead of diving almost straight-down, I was gliding horizontally. I let out a huge breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. I was extremely grateful for the thick white clouds that passed between me and the ground, so that I couldn't always see how high up I was.

Just keep holding down. Stay in control. Stay in control!

If I lost control, I would fall off or crash.

I drifted forward for almost a minute before a black shape hovered beside me. Professor Smith grinned as she edged closer. I pulled away in alarm, afraid that we would collide, but she shook her head and nodded encouragingly.

"You're doing great!" She yelled, and I was surprised to see how youthful and carefree she looked on a broomstick, flying in the air. It took almost ten, even fifteen years, off of her face.

I gave a hesitant smile, which felt more like a maniacal grin.

She pointed down with one hand. I felt sick watching her take one hand off the handle. My hands felt like they had become part of the broom, they were clamped on so tightly.

"Slowly descend!" She instructed. "Follow me! We'll land in the field behind your house!"

I felt dizzy with the thought. "What if I crash?!" I half-choked, half-screamed, because the moment I opened my mouth, a bug shot straight through to the back of my throat.

"I'll cushion your fall!" She told me, and then slowly descended in a diagonal line.

Heart in my throat and amazed that the dragons hadn't scented me and realized I was a sitting (well, flying) duck, I copied Professor Smith and pushed down on the handle. The broom sank into a dive again, and I bit back another scream.

Stay in control!

The wisps of clouds blasted past as I slowly spiraled in a descent. The circular motions seemed to put an invisible brake on the velocity of the broom. Agonizingly, I controlled the broom into somewhat-slow spirals, thinking of the two dragons that had been fighting in a similar fashion.

At last, the clouds parted and I saw land again. I was only fifty feet from the ground.

Professor Smith was waiting, hovering. When I spotted her, she waved once and expertly guided her broomstick to the ground. She nodded encouragingly.

Face pale with strain, I slowed the broom even more until it was almost immobile in the sky, and painstakingly eased it down. Forty feet. Thirty. Twenty. Ten.

The ground rose up to meet me. My feet slammed into the earth and I lurched forward, stumbling, but I didn't fall off my broom.

Professor Smith was clapping. She looked fiercely determined and proud. Wisps of her chestnut hair had pulled free of her bun and stood out around her head like a halo. "Excellent, excellent, Amber! Really excellent! You just flew on a broom alone down a mountain!"

"Great." I managed feebly, my throat still tight. My hands trembled hard.

She looked amused. "You can let go of the handle."

Blushing, I released the broom. My hands were curled into claws and aching with the stress of gripping the handle.

She nodded approvingly. "You overcame your fear and stayed in control. That kind of attitude and mindset will serve you very well as a witch. That is the kind of determination you will need to conjure your Patronus."

I was hardly listening. I was more focused on keeping myself from vomiting all over her shoes.

"Your teaching style is… a little unconventional." I managed at last, the thrill of adrenaline making me feel like a tuning fork.

She grinned, revealing her perfect teeth. "So I've been told. Great work today, Amber. Really. I'm very proud of you. Please continue to practice your Patronus and your other assigned homework. Animagus, Veritaserum, you know."

Dazed, I nodded as Romulus came tearing into the field from the barn, barking furiously. I could hear chickens squawking in fright and the horses squealing.

"Why do they always do that when you come to my house?" I muttered, as Romulus crashed into my jelly-like legs and covered me with licks.

Professor Smith shrugged. "I have a way with animals, I suppose. Or I don't." She mounted her broom again. "I will see you in a few days. Take a break from lessons. Keep practicing."

She kicked off from the ground and shot like a bullet into the air. Romulus exploded into a flurry of barks again, circling around me. There was a loud scream of fury from our rooster.

I shook my head, my hand still on the broom that Professor Smith had summoned. In spite of the fear, the flight had been exhilarating. Exciting. Scary. But it felt… right.

What was the matter with me?

I marched slowly toward the little yellow bungalow, broom in one hand, dog on the other side, keeping pace. I couldn't produce a Patronus, but I could come within feet of dragons. I was terrified of heights without barriers, but I liked flying.

I'm a Hatstall. I thought to myself as I moved my aching, shaky legs. I'm intelligent, and brave.

I watched as Dad threw a pile of dead grass and leaves onto a small bonfire near the edge of the field. He wiped his brow and added a large branch to the pile. The flames belched black smoke that rose into the thick white overhanging fog. Hidden from our view on the warm ground were the colony of roaring dragons.

If I couldn't produce a spirit animal guardian, then maybe I could become an animal myself. An Animagus. I would learn the Patronus Charm.

Even if I died trying.