Chapter 12

FLYING

Distracted by Harry, the griffin missed poking out Alicia's eye, but a tremendous wing dashed Harry to the ground. His face in the dust, he heard Natalie scream. Rolling, then springing to his feet, he saw her terror wasn't for herself. The person held fast in the griffin's cruel talons was Dumbledore.

Panic welled up in Harry. Everyone else who could do magic lay sprawled and groaning in the dirt—all four wranglers, Alicia, his housemistress, and Snape. Aghast, he watched the Griffin flap upwards, dangling a limp Dumbledore. Harry jumped as high as he could yet just grazed the bottom of the headmaster's robes. Crashing to earth, he gasped for breath.

Then he remembered to pull out his wand.

Before he could use it, the griffin swooped off in a flash of crimson. All the spells Harry knew raced through his mind. A direct one like Stupefy was probably no use, or the wranglers would have tried it. He needed one that would take him up to the griffin itself.

He clambered to his feet and stumbled after it. Keeping the griffin in sight as it circled the Hufflepuff area, then the Slytherin, wasn't hard. It seemed the majestic eagle wings weren't strong enough to lift half a lion straight into the sky. Adding the weight of a full-grown wizard kept it low. When the griffin disappeared between some trees, Harry feared he'd lost Dumbledore. Then screams from onlookers told him exactly where the beast was.

He lifted his wand. "Accio Firebolt!" Summoning his broom from Gryffindor tower was his best hope. But when he sprinted past the cowering Hufflepuffs and saw the griffin winging back, dragging Dumbledore with it, he knew he'd need some magic a whole lot sooner.

In the Slytherin pen, Malfoy clutched Millicent's robes. "Do something!" Avery was nowhere to be seen. At the sight of the approaching monster, Malfoy broke and ran. He hadn't gone more than a yard when the griffin dipped to rake him with its lion paws.

"Hydra, attack!" Millicent screeched.

When the serpent coiled, then lashed all three heads at the griffin, Harry realized she'd shouted in Parseltongue. Instead of claws, the lion tail skimmed Malfoy's back. Then the nasty beak snapped off Ted's head.

Millicent fell to her knees in horror, and the griffin wheeled away.

Harry's stomach lurched. The monster was headed for Cho.

As Harry put on speed he didn't know he had, Hagrid pounded up beside him, his pink umbrella swinging crazily from his belt. Though age and size made him slower, the half-giant's long legs took him farther. "Tha's no' Waldo!" he puffed, "Tha's Regis! The meanes' griffin in all o' Britain!"

At last, Harry spied his Firebolt—a mere speck in the distance. To use it in the Triwizard Tournament, he'd left it by an open window. Digging its way out of his wardrobe had taken longer, but finally it was coming.

Not a moment too soon. In the Ravenclaw pen, the griffin was using the unconscious Dumbledore as a flail to beat the cowering roc. The Arab wranglers and two of the Ravenclaws lay splayed and motionless. Cho was circling behind, readying an attack.

"No! Don't!" Harry yelled, working his flagging legs as fast as he could. She mustn't endanger herself—not when his Firebolt was finally spiraling down at him through the beech trees. Then, as it grazed a low branch, something horrible happened. It snagged.

Harry's eyes popped wide. The broom shook itself. It pulled back, jerked, and stalled again. What could he do?

In that instant, Cho sprang.

Harry had never imagined anything like it in his entire life.

Cho didn't just leap, she flew. Without a broom, without her wand, working her arms and legs like pistons, she rocketed thirty feet into the air, aiming her foot at the griffin's head. The blow made it wobble. Before it knew what hit it, Cho touched down behind the tree that held the Firebolt.

Hagrid pounced, trying to snatch Dumbledore from the dazed griffin. Before he could, the beast shook its head and flapped higher—farther than the half-giant's reach.

Harry opened his mouth to ask Cho to jump into the tree for his broom. With it he could soar up and unhook the talons. Then, with an evil glint in its red eyes, the griffin dipped its head and pecked Dumbledore's cheek. Blood splattered. When a drop touched the gigantic roc, it scampered into the bushes like a frightened hen.

Forget the Firebolt. That would take too long. "Cho, do something!"

She swung around the tree, pumped her arms and legs, and arched even higher. With outstretched hands, she grabbed the griffin and choked it from behind.

"Your umbrella," Harry yelled to Hagrid. "On the count of two, Jelly Legs. You must remember that one. Aim at the griffin. And be ready to catch Dumbledore."

Hagrid's face went grim. Mimicking Harry's stance, he pointed his pink umbrella. At the right moment, he joined Harry in the common, schoolboy hex.

Struck by the double spell, both sets of talons lost their grip. Hagrid sprang forward and the headmaster dropped into his arms with a whump.

Unburdened, the red-and-gold griffin struggled higher into the sky. Cho released its throat and began plummeting. Harry thrust out his wand to voice a slowing spell. Before he could, she again whipped her arms and legs into an airborne run that transformed her fall into a graceful arc that landed her safely a few yards away. Incredibly impressed, he stuck his wand back in his pocket.

He turned to watch Hagrid gently spread Dumbledore on a mossy bank. The headmaster's eyelids fluttered.

Then Harry heard what sounded like a whirlwind. Overhead, he saw the griffin veering back on rapidly beating wings. Then the beast retracted all four legs and ducked its head. Holding its gargantuan body straight as an arrow, it dove towards him—hurtling, hirring like a missile, its black beak glinting as it aimed for his face.

Frantically, Harry groped in his pocket. His wand caught sideways. The whine of the plunging griffin intensified. At the last second, Harry threw himself out of its path, hitting the dirt on his stomach and sliding. As he did, his wand shot out and skidded away. He heard a thrash of wings—the monster sweeping upward, positioning for another attack. Harry threw his arms across the back of his neck. If his head was going to be snapped off, he hoped it would be quick.

Then the griffin yelped.

Harry rolled over. Staring up, he saw Cho mounted on the beast, gripping its neck with both knees and pummeling with lightning fists. The eagle head twisted wildly, but she was faster, feinting right and left, just out of reach of the slashing beak.

Harry scrambled across the dirt, fumbling for his wand. As he got hold of it, he heard a gruff voice intone old English. Flipping sideways, he saw Hagrid raise his right arm and train his umbrella on the griffin. The beast looked stunned from Cho's quick blows. At Hagrid's next command, it squawked. Its rage spent, it dropped its head. The wings slowed, flapping just enough to keep it aloft.

"Cho!" Hagrid called out. "Regis yields. Let him be. Jump!"

With one last box to the side of the scarlet-and-gold head, Cho slid off backwards, down the lion rump. She dangled from the tail a moment. The griffin bellowed. Then she swung out and let go, ran across the sky, caromed off the trunk of a pine, and floated to the ground.

"Whoah," Hagrid breathed. "What a woman."

On wobbly wings, the griffin disappeared into the mists that veiled the Forbidden Forest.

Harry stood by himself, leaning on his broom, watching Madame Pomfrey fuss over Dumbledore at the far end of the Ravenclaw pen. Even at a distance, Harry could see her smear of magic salve sending his cheek through a week's worth of healing in just a few minutes. Anxiously, she patted the headmaster all over for bumps then began brushing dirt from his long, white beard. He didn't wave her off in annoyance as Snape had done. Quite the opposite.

At Dumbledore's insistence, Madame Pomfrey had first treated all the other injuries caused by the crazed griffin—concussions, broken bones, twisted ankles, abrasions, and black eyes. Merely bruised and scratched, Harry knew he'd got off lightly. Two of the griffin's wranglers, Alicia, Professor Sprout, one of the Arabs, and two of the Ravenclaws had been sent by floating stretcher to recuperate in the hospital. McGonagall, as deputy headmistress, had canceled morning classes so the professors involved in the fracas could recover their composure. Those uninvolved were overseeing the rest of the students.

As he had after the dragon incident, Harry felt at loose ends. Cho and the other Arab wrangler were off soothing the ruffled roc. Nearby, Millicent wept while Ariel Daine patted her back. Filch, who'd scrabbled up a birch tree at the first sign of trouble, was perched on the fence sucking a licorice wand. Across the way, Malfoy hunched against a spruce, his blond hair matted with leaves, his blue eyes scowling at the ground.

Hearing scuffing feet, Harry turned to see Barden and Hagrid shambling towards him. The Hufflepuff was big enough to come nearly to the half-giant's shoulder.

"Well, the badger's all righ'. There's a blessin', anyhow," Hagrid said. "I'm havin' a word with them Enchanted Preserve folk, sendin' us that mad Regis. I wrote the reques' meself, an' I wrote it fer Waldo."

Out the corner of his eye, Harry could see Malfoy raising his head to glare at the gamekeeper.

"What a mix-up," Barden agreed. Harry couldn't be certain, but it seemed the Hufflepuff was sneaking concerned glances at Millicent.

"There oughta be an inquiry," Hagrid said.

At that, Malfoy snorted. Lifting his pointed nose, he marched up to Hagrid. "Inquiry indeed. Father will insist on it. And the inquiry will be into your fitness to hold any position of responsibility at Hogwarts."

Harry clenched his Firebolt. "Seems I remember your father is no position to call for inquiries at Hogwarts."

The Slytherin flushed. "The Malfoy name still counts for something. Unlike Potter." Suddenly, his eyes gleamed. In a drawling voice, he said, "Potter, the famous hero. How does it feel to be saved by a girl?"

Harry exhaled slowly. Malfoy was one to talk. The leaves and twigs adorning his head came from scuttling into the underbrush. "How do I feel being saved by Cho? Wonderful. Grateful . . . the same way you must feel that Millicent saved you. Yes, sir. Cho can fly. Millicent can talk to snakes. We're a pair of lucky fellows."

As he spoke, Harry became aware of Barden nodding vigorously. Millicent peered over Professor Daine's shoulder.

The twitch at the side of Malfoy's mouth said he had no answer. Instead, he turned on Hagrid again. "I'm writing to the Ministry myself. And I'm going to mention your filthy old umbrella and whatever you're hiding in it. You'll see what happens."

"You will do nothing of the sort."

Startled, Harry looked over his shoulder. Snape was standing solitary several yards away. Despite a bump on his forehead, a scrape on his jaw, a tear in his sleeve and dirt all over, he still projected irrefutable clout. His murmur had slashed through the schoolboy argument like a knife. Now his black eyes brooded on Malfoy with a pessimism that was hard to read. As if reaching a decision, he strode forward and led Malfoy into the Slytherin pen. Though they were out of earshot, Harry could tell from Malfoy's drooping head that Snape was lecturing him. Both ignored the spasmodically shuddering hydra.

Hagrid muttered through his bristly beard, "I tell yeh, I wrote the order fer Waldo."

Professor Daine smiled. "Of course, you did."

Millicent stepped back, dabbing her puffy brown eyes. When she glanced at Barden, he shifted his weight. Then abruptly, he swung away to check on his badger. Slowly, she turned her attention to Harry. On bowed hag legs, she toddled closer.

Hagrid grinned. "Parseltongue? I knew yeh had it in yeh, Milly."

Her jagged teeth bucked out over her lower lip. "Just a couple of words, but it's a start. Harry translated some of the hydra's talk earlier. I guess it finally came together for me."

Hagrid nodded, then waved to Professor Daine and tromped over to her.

Millicent lowered her voice. "You're all right, Harry Potter. I used to think you were stuck up—all those Potions and Creatures classes we had. But you're all right."

"Uh, thank you."

"Saved by a girl—most boys would be ashamed. But not you. You gave credit where credit was due. That means a lot. You're really all right."

Embarrassed, Harry nodded. He was grateful when Barden jogged back, yelling for Millicent.

"The hydra! It's got four heads now. I think one of the new ones is the same lad that got bitten off."

Millicent's smile went as wide as a jack-o'-lantern's. She took off for the Slytherin enclosure at a gallop. Harry could see the hydra reared back, all four heads gazing at Snape. The professor made a solemn bow, then jabbed Malfoy in the side. Reluctantly, Malfoy lowered his head as well.

Harry was about to join the folk admiring the fantastic regenerating hydra, when he heard his name. As usual, Cho's musical timbre gave him a pleasant jolt. Turning, he smiled. "Wow. So that was Wudang Shen. Reading about it gave me no idea."

Cho shrugged, then rubbed her dirt-smudged nose. "My great-great-grandmother taught me. Just a little discipline, a little practice. You'd be a natural."

"Me?" Harry felt a shiver of anticipation. Could he really learn to fly without a broom?

"If you're not too busy, I think we could fit in some lessons." She tilted her head, and a tangle of black hair, lank with sweat and dust, tumbled down her shoulder.

Harry had never seen her look so beautiful.

That night Harry dreamed of bounding star to star, sweeping the sky, propelled by nothing but the magic of his own limbs. The exhilaration overwhelmed him.

And taunting him everywhere he flew came Malfoy's words—"Harry Potter, saved by a girl."

Author's Note: By the end of JKR's fourth book, Cho could have still gone the direction she goes here. What do you think? If you don't know "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" (the movie that inspired this version of her), it's well worth watching. Or try "Iron Monkey" (a bit more fun and with a happier ending) to see the same crazy flying. And as always... please review!