Flights of Fancy
Flying high in the sky, Harry was able to forget his troubles for a time at least. He easily outpaced the other Gryffindors, soaring high high high above the Quidditch pitch until Hogwarts, the grounds, the lake and the Forbidden Forest were as small as a postage stamp far below. At this altitude, the wind sung in his ears and the blasting cold was invigorating. None of the others had a firebolt. None of the others had a firebolt. None of them had ever been able to fly like he could. He was a natural born flier. He had been better than they were before he had even touched a broomstick.
No doubt they would complain about his showing off, but for the moment he needed to forget his troubles…
But then a shadow swooped down from even higher, way above him. It hurtled towards him like a missile. He tried to dodge it, but he couldn't outman over whatever it was. It kept changing direction to cut him off and then it flew up close. He gasped. It was Ginny. But she had no broomstick. She was flying through the air, her fiery hair blowing out behind her in the chill wind. She was wrapped in her ornate black dress, her pale arms bare. But she did not seem to feel the cold. Her burning eyes were fixed on him.
Her voice exploded in his mind. "Dream! And memories will grip you with longing. Who do you see in me? What beautiful red headed girl is in your heart?"
Harry's stomach lurched. Yes, there was a beautiful red headed girl locked in his heart. When he first saw the terrible Mirror of Erised, he had been tormented by the visions of his mother who was now beyond his reach. And Ginny did resemble Lily in that she was a beautiful red headed girl. In fact, Ginny was even more beautiful than Lily, comparable even to Cora Rothwell.
"Look out behind you!" Ginny's voice sounded in his head again. Harry whipped round as the sound of terrible cackling cut through the freezing air. There was a terrible vision of a vile green old hag, with a great long green warty nose and chin and sunken staring eyes, filthy grey hair blowing about her. She was dressed in black rags. She swiped at him with long, filthy, claw like nails.
"You never know when you may be attacked," Ginny's voice came again. Harry was filled with fear of the hag and swerved behind Ginny. Ginny took out her wand and yelled. The hag shrieked and swooped away.
Harry decided to get back to the ground and plummeted to Earth again, breathless and cold.
Hermione had been standing on the pitch and hurried over to him. "Harry, are you OK?" she asked, putting her arms around him. "Oh Harry, you're cold and shaking. I was worried."
"Ginny rescued me from a terrible hag," said Harry. There was a cackling from nearby and the hag alighted beside them.
"That's Romilda Vane, playing a prank with an aging potion," said Hermione scornfully. "I don't like pranks at all. They're cruel in a 'who me? You've no sense of humour?' kind of way. Oh stop cackling and go and take the antidote, Romilda." The hag pointed at Harry and cackled. So it was just Romilda with an aging potion. If she lived long enough, she was going to become that hideous hag no matter what… She seemed remarkably cheerful considering she was destined for great ugliness.
"How would getting old make Romilda turn green?" asked Harry.
"Oh Harry," said Hermione, shaking her head at this new evidence of how incurious Harry was about everything around him, "it's a magical phenotype. You know how Ollivander and Madam Hooch have strange eyes? It's a side effect of magic in them. With very old witches and wizards, the magic in them can do funny things to the body. So can great magic power. Green is a very magical colour as it happens. The most powerful witches can go green without growing old.
Back in the Great Hall the familiar smells of good food met Harry and Hermione. Baked potatoes, roast beef, Yorkshire pudding…
He glared at Umbridge, who was glaring around the hall. Her horrible, pouchy eyes alighted on him and he hastily began to busy himself with his Yorkshire pudding.
Hermione was scanning the Daily Prophet. "It is best to know what the enemy is saying," she muttered. "But the Prophet really is a sleazy rag. It's the mouthpiece of the powers that be. No matter who they are..." She flipped the paper over. "No, nothing except the usual garbage."
"Hey look," said Ron, "there was something about an Auror catching a bloke who was arrogant enough to cheat in a muggle driving exam – he confunded the muggle examiner. And look at the name – he was a player on the Slytherin team during that match in third year. Remember how badly the Slytherins all cheated then. This Slytherin never changed."
"You're right, Ron mate," said Harry. "Well I'm glad the Aurors caught him. So arrogant. And see – he couldn't drive and his dangerous driving caused a crash. I'm glad that you would never ever confund a muggle examiner to cheat your way through a driving test."
"Absolutely not," said Ron, "and it's not OK if a Slytherin does it, is it?"
"But there's nothing of real interest in the paper," said Hermione dismissively, "Fudge is still leaning on the Prophet."
It was Monday again. Harry trudged wearily long the corridor, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hermione linked her arm in his. "I'm sharing the burden with you, Harry dear," she said, "and we will leave soon. Hogwarts will be nothing, but bad memories. I think the feedback I received from Frau Roth of the Fairytale Palace has been very encouraging."
Harry thought for a moment. He hated how Umbridge had corrupted Hogwarts, but he was reluctant to leave… he thought of Ginny. A beautiful red headed girl certainly, but why would he want to stay around her. He remembered that time high in the air when she whispered to him about his dreams. Of course, he was feeling as though she were like his mother. Well that was weird and crazy. He mustn't let anyone know that. He stopped in the corridor for a moment as the other students trooped past.
"I don't think I can face Umbridge today," he said.
Hermione squeezed his arm sympathetically. A second year Gryffindor girl Harry didn't know came up to them. She had a snubbed nose, long reddish brown hair and grey-blue eyes.
"What is it, Demelza?" asked Hermione.
"I wanted to try out for a position on the Quidditch team, but Angelina was insistant on playing the old faces," said Demelza, "and she said she only tried for a new Keeper because Wood had left. I could be a brilliant Chaser though. Harry, could you put in a word for me?"
"I will, whoever you are," said Harry, who had never learned her name.
"Demelza," she said crossly.
"Come on Harry, only one last lesson from Umbridge, hopefully," said Hermione and headed off up the corridor. Harry was about to follow her, but Demelza gripped his arm. He was surprised by her strength. She was only about twelve and did not look strong.
"Don't let them play the old faces over and over again," said Demelza, her eyes wide. "Don't you think I deserve a try out?"
"You do," said Harry, trying to pull free of her grip.
"And am I pretty?" asked Demelza. Oh for goodness' sake, this was neurotic behaviour.
"Beauty is only skin deep," said Harry, "now I must be going."
"Skin deep?" said Demelza. She pulled at her face and there was a terrible ripping sound. Harry felt a surge of horror as she tore away the skin and flesh from her face in a bloody mess, leaving just a bare skull beneath, the unblinking eyes in the sockets all that was left alive.
Harry yelled and leapt back, crashing into a bust of Uric the Oddball, sending it crashing to the floor. The terrifying apparition of Demelza backed away into the wall and disappeared. A group of students came hurrying down the corridor. Hermione was in the lead, Shirley following closely behind.
"Why are you howling insanely, Harry?" asked Shirley, with a malicious grin.
"Harry are you OK?" asked Hermione.
"I just saw Demelza take her face off, there was only a skull left!" gibbered Harry.
The other students laughed and Shirley rolled her eyes.
"Hey Potter!" It was the voice of Draco Malfoy, "you've smashed the bust of Uric the Oddball. Umbridge will love that."
"Hem hem," came the dreaded voice of Umbridge, "why would you smash the bust, Potter?" Umbridge had appeared at his elbow.
"Demelza just tore off her face," gibbered Harry.
"Oh dear, you're still telling nasty, evil attention seeking stories," said Umbridge, brandishing the Blood Quill. "Well you know this means another detention."
"No, I don't think it does," said Hermione, "I believe Harry. We're leaving."
She took Harry's arm and they fled down the corridor. "Stop them!" shrieked Umbridge.
Hermione pulled Harry through a secret passage and up a hidden staircase that wound round and round towards the battlements. There way was lit by the ghostly light of glowstones. Harry yelled as he saw the hideous apparition of Demelza with a skull for a face again.
"Only a prank," said Demelza, "Ginny Weasley showed me this magic. I wonder where she learned it."
Hermione scowled. "Oh go and put yourself back together," she said. Harry was a bit embarrassed at having been taken in so thoroughly.
They reached a secret door and pushed it open. The late afternoon sun was warm and golden. Harry gave another start as he became aware of a tall witch standing beside them. He really was getting jumpier and jumpier with all the scares he was receiving.
He turned to look at the witch. She was robed in blue silk and she had long, auburn hair. But that was not the most remarkable thing about her. She had a bright green face. It was as though her face was coated in immaculate, thick green face paint. And her lips were a dark green, almost black.
"Is this another prank?" he said, tersely.
"Harry, hush, this is Frau Roth," murmured Hermione. The witch beamed.
"And you are dear Hermione," she said. Her accent did indeed sound German to Harry.
She turned to Harry, the waves of her long auburn hair rippled and bounced. "There's no reason to be afraid, Harry," she said, "she touched her green cheek. This is my real face. No prank. No trick." She had such bright green eyes. Just like his. Just like his mother's. Her face was bright green and longer than Lily's and she had a small cleft in her chin, but her features were as perfectly proportioned and her overall beauty just as striking. She gently touched his cheek and he felt the agitation he had been bothered by these past few weeks lessen.
"I understand the cruelty and injustice that goes on here, dear Harry," she said. Her eyes looked so sympathetic. Seized by a wild impulse he put his arms around her. She gently stroked his hair. Ginny had unsettled him by trying to dredge up memories of the Mirror of Erised. But this strange lady seemed a better mother substitute than Ginny could ever be.
There was a hubbub nearby as a crowd of Slytherins led by Umbridge came dashing along the battlements. Frau Roth held up a hand and they all came staggering to a halt.
"I will look after Harry and Hermione now," she said, her voice carrying clearly in the evening air. Her green eyes scanned Umbridge. "I will remember your crimes." Umbridge's sagging face turned a horrible, blotchy red, but Frau Roth did not seem to care. She put her right arm around Harry, her left around Hermione and suddenly they were whisked away in a whirl of colour and sound.