AN: 11th Submission!

Word Count: 934

TW: falling.

Setting: 6th-7th year

Prompt:Descendo – [action] floating

Harry had always loved to fly. Since his first year, it had been his escape, his true peace. Soaring around on his broom was something nobody could take from him. It was a part of him.

Even as a child Harry always dreamed of flying. From the dreams of flying motorcycles, strange ladies with umbrellas, and even flying cars, it had always been a part of him. His favourite scrap toys were the superhero ones. He could spend hours making them fly, holding them above his lap in the darkness of his cupboard.

Every child wanted to be a superhero, and Harry was no different than them.

Except Harry had magic, and he was sixteen years old. What's the semblance of that, you may ask? Well, sixteen year olds never make the right choices.

"What are you even trying to do?" Ron asked, snacking on a piece of Fudge from his mum.

"I'm trying to figure out how to fly, Ron." Harry said, annoyance evident in his tone.

"Why? We have brooms for a reason."

Yes, but Harry wanted to fly without a broom, what was so hard to understand?

Harry sat in the common room by himself after that, following the levitation exercises in front of him. He breathed deeply, trying to get a "feel" for his magic, whatever that meant.

In the silence, Harry let himself relax. He knew he had the power to do this. He began counting.

One, two, three, four, five. Up!

His hands slowly began to calm, their constant jitteriness ebbing away as he counted.

Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty. Up!

His legs began to tingle, but he paid them no mind, focusing on his counting like the book told him too.

Ninety, ninety-one, ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five. Up!

Harry was starting to feel his mind go numb, but he pressed on. He could do this.

Harry softly rose from the carpet, butt barely an inch above the ground. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to shock him from his counting. He could barely think "I did it!" before he descended back onto the ground.

It was only a little bit, but it was something! What number was that, two hundred and eight? Two hundred and nine? Harry didn't know, he couldn't remember. He closed his eyes and started all over again. Maybe he could get it before the two-hundred mark!

Neville found him passed out on the couch the next morning, looking exhausted even as he slept. Harry was going to be so glad that it was Sunday.

"And you can seriously levitate?" Hermione asked sceptically as they looked around the library. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine it?"

"No, I swear! Look, I've been getting so much better at it." Harry sat down on the floor, taking a deep breath as he tried to relax. His hands shook slightly, but much less than they had in the years before. His practice sessions had been helping

Harry slowly felt himself rise from the ground, a few inches higher then where he had started, and much quicker too. He heard Hermione gasp and he smirked, breaking his concentration as he fell to the ground with a soft thump.

"What do you think?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Well, you certainly floated," Hermione said, helping him off the floor. "I think that could be extremely...neat."

"You think it's lame, don't you?" Harry said with a sigh. Hermione didn't even bother to hide her giggles. He didn't care though, he'd work this skill until he could fly.

"They're here!" Madeye yelled. Harry cursed from his spot in Hagrid's motorbike, groaning as the bike spun. The group split up, every adult having their own respective "Harry" decoy with them. It helped a bit, and Hagrid was able to get them much closer to the burrow then Harry originally thought.

It didn't last long.

"Duck!" Hagrid yelled, Harry tucking into his little side seat as bright green spells were flung all around. Harry heard the screech of an owl. Hedwig!

"Over here, girl!" Harry yelled.

"Harry! That's not safe!" Hagrid tried to say, Harry standing up in his seat as his owl flew nearby. She hooted, and Harry watched as she inched closer to them. Just a little further and he'd have her tucked safely in his arms.

A flash of red hit her, and the snowy white owl fell.

"Hedwig!"

"Harry!"

Without a second thought, Harry jumped from the bike, arms outreached towards his stunned owl. He needed to get to her faster! Air rushed all around him, filling his ears as he tried to be faster. He needed to fly.

His fingers brushed tail feathers, and he willed himself closer, snuggling a sleeping hedwig in his arms as he fell.

The ground was much closer now, his life flashing before his eyes.

One, two, three-

Screw it!

Harry pushed off of nothing, and suddenly, he changed directions, going horizontal this time.

A scared laugh left his throat as he soared, spinning in a circle as he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He was flying! He was actually flying!

Slowly his feet landed on plush ground. He had lost his shoes earlier, and the ground felt good on his feet. Hedwig stirred in his arms.

Harry didn't know where he was, but he knew Hedwig and himself were alive, and that's all that mattered to him at the moment. He needed to find somewhere to be safe.

He looked up, watching red and green spells clash above stringy clouds.

He needed to find somewhere soon.