"So, what's the plan then?" he asked, trying not to sound as anxious

"Hi!" Madison greeted as she saw him. "I don't know...I'm as lost as you are," she said sheepishly. "I guess we can just follow along with what everyone else is doing..." She smiled. "So you're into Quidditch? What position are you trying for?"

"Chaser" Hal replied, watching everyone performing their acrobatics and sighing rather loudly. "I don't think I stand much of a chance, I'm not Edryd afterall..."

He looked at Maddy a little sadly and turned back to the practice ground. "You think we can squeeze in a little flying?"

********

Raphael stood in the corner of the pitch and stared at his broom. He'd declined the aid of any of the other students, preferring his own company once more, while he went in the air.

And so he'd taken himself away from the Quidditch pitch, away back towards the lake and the forbidden forest where nobody would disturb him for a bit. And he stood on the less then firm ground, hidden by a sole pine tree that shielded him from anybody coming from he castle or the lake, and looked at the broom in his hand. He'd calmed it down enough, now, perhaps enough to ride it for a while.

Now, how had Nathaniel got on his broom? How about the others? He straddled the broom, since that seemed to be the general idea (although why he couldn't fathom) and stood for a second to think, the old tatty broom calm and expectant. And then a dream he'd had once came back to him in a flash.

He'd been looking at the muddy ground, although it was in an older oak forest, looking at the frosty leaves under his feet, feeling them as they cracked and crunched beneath him. His back was burning, as was the right side of his face: his back was a searing tearing mass of pain, where his face melt like it was melting. Sharp needles of pain were erupting all over his body. But none of them compared to the peace he was feeling, although the feelings were killing him.

Back on the wet summer ground near the forbidden forest, he breathed in the damp Scottish air and decided to start. How had the coach done it? He'd lifted off vertically, not like the others, across and then into the air, and not like Raphael had the night before, literally leaping onto a broom that was flying at head level. Raphael decided that that was how he wanted to do it, not knowing that the broom was despairing in a tiny voice underneath him at the concept of doing the practically impossible lift off
move.

He eased it up, straining vertically with all of his might, not sure what was happening: was he pulling the broom up or was the broom lifting him? He could feel it start to whine and almost buckle underneath him, but he would not let it, it would take off, it would go straight up into the air like a
rocket into space, no skimming across the floor or sliding into space, he and his broom would tear into the sky like angels at sundown...

...and in the oaken dream forest, Raphael spread his wings and felt them pull him into the air.

- with a screech, the old broom shot directly upwards, slipping into the sky like a knife into butter, and with it followed Raphael. He set it into a spiral pattern, looking into the clouds, not seeing the ground beneath him, not seeing it recede. And then he turned, and dragged the broom downwards, pointing it at the ground and at the lake. The waters of the lake shimmered and rippled as Raphael shot across them, sparkling in the midday sun. He hooked his feet around the broom, let his body flop downwards, and trailed his head in the water, letting coolness wash over him as his hands cut the water into ribbons.

... he'd dreamt that in his dream, as he'd flown through the forest of night, he'd been searching with sound. He'd been searching for a discordant note...

Raphael shot out of the water, pulling himself back on the broom and starting it into a spiral bullet motion across the grounds and towards the Quidditch field, pulling the broom to a halt hovering above the stadium in the shadow of the seats, watching the action on the pitch with interest.

And then he sped down towards the pitch.

...and in the forest, something had moved in his dreams, something huge and black, evil, angry, and swiped at him while he was beating his wings. It had crippled them, pushed him to the ground, a fallen angel. And as he had been on that forest floor, and looked into that blackness... and into the mirror that the still dank water made on the forest floor... he'd seen his own face was black, and his own hand was cloven. As it reached out of the water to curl around his angel wings and pull him down to drown, he saw that the demons eyes were fire...

For an instant on the Quidditch pitch, Raphael wondered what was wrong, for the world was rushing upwards around him. And as he fell and the broom squeaked in horror as it fled upward in his sight, away upwards where it wouldn't keep him in the air, Raphael wondered dimly if the ground would
hurt if he hit it. He'd find out in about a second, as long as he didn't hit the girl who was standing below him...

Niki had been watching some of the other flights with interest, totally oblivious to the drama taking place above her. However, as Raphael made his descent, she glanced up, seeing the boy growing larger and larger and larger, frozen to the spot, and then, as she gathered her wits about her to
move forward, out of the way of the fall...

WHAM!

She had moved a split-second too late, and was flung down to the ground with the force of the impact. It hurt. A lot. Raphael had sharp elbows, and one of them was digging very uncomfortably into her rib cage. As she wheezed, the breath completely knocked out of her, Niki wondered why all these things
seemed to happen to her.

Mahou watched Raphael for a moment, then turned away. She heard the fall, but didn't pay any attention. She was staring off into space, her pale hand on her Firebolt, her hair ruffling in the calming wind. Lime-green eyes looked across the grounds. The grass grew silently beneath her slippered feet, the trees sang their incessant song around her, and the wind whispered sweetly in her hair. Mahou felt alive and wonderful, closing her eyes and feeling the breeze envelop her with its gentle arms.

~*There could nae be a better day fer this,*~ she said quietly in elfin, not recalling where she was. ~*If only I could see th' forest again..*~ Looking back briefly at the others, the girl then returned her strange gaze to the grounds...

Having surmised that most of the newer students were eager to try on their own, Kat had relented and let Mulder and Scully fly with her.

Mulder lay at the back on the bristles and Scully was perched in front of Kat, purring as they flew. Kat could not tell, but Mulder had probably fallen asleep where he lay. This was nothing unusual.

Noticing Raphael fall, Kat was a little shocked. Why did flying seem so dangerous these days? She dived down to where he had landed on Niki.

"Are you two ok?" She couldn't see that much wrong by looking at them. Maybe a few bumps and bruises. Niki had probably stopped Raphael hurting himself too much, rather ironically.

"Can't...breath..." Niki wheezed. Raphael was significantly taller and heavier than she was (although, admittedly, you would have to go to the smallest of the first-years to find someone who wasn't), and was squashing her rib cage. "Ow?" she added. Other than a bump on her back, she was only suffering from having the breath knocked out of her and then knocked around so that it couldn't get *back*.

"Urgle," said Raphael eloquently, rolling off Niki and onto the ground beside her. "Urgh," he repeated,
shaking his head out and sitting up painfully.

"You okay?" he asked Niki, who seemed to be having problems breathing. "Uh... no really, you okay?"

"You heavy," Niki announced, sitting up and gingerly rubbing her ribs. "Ribs hurt. Complete sentences bad." She coughed, then began to get to her feet. "Are you all right? Long fall."

Sarah had been helping out a little with some of the less experienced flyers.

Still seeing Raphael fall she was quite concerned and landed her own broom came over to stand close by but not wanting to interrupt.

Anders had also hobbled as fast as his twisted ankle would let him over the fallen pair. "Hey, come on," he said, good naturedly, quickly assessing the situation. "I'm not having anyone break their necks when I'M in charge."

His smile covered the slight waver in his words as he spoke.

Marvo saw the fall and was about to 'act' when it was already all over. "Huff! Now that's why I think Quidditch is such a silly game! Far too dangerous!"

Anders suggested a few more flying exercises for everyone to practise, most of which seemed to centre around the apparently simple tasks of take-off and landing. When someone commented, Anders shrugged.

"You might think it's simple stuff," he said. "But there are people here who don't have as much experience as others. Every little bit helps, and it NEVER hurts to start at the beginning and polish your skills."

He shot Kat a grin as he spoke. Yes, he'd decided it was good fun having a sister, and he'd further decided that if she was prepared to publicly acknowledge their relationship - then so was he.

Kat acknowledged Sarah and Anders as they approached. She looked relieved that no-one appeared to be too badly hurt.

"No broken bones then? Good. I suggest you sit and breath deep breaths Niki. That should help your breathing a little."

"Ribs one big bruise, but will be okay," Niki reported, after gingerly feeling her bruises. "Nothing broken except syntax. Complete sentences. Must use complete sentences." She took a deep, steadying
breath. "Better, I think."

"Good." Anders put out a hand to help her up. "You want to take a break for five minutes, or do you want to get back up there?"

He glanced at Raphael. "You OK as well? I didn't realise I was going to have QUITE so many worries just coaching Quidditch!" He smiled to show he was joking.

Nathaniel and the broom that had come to his hand in the broomshed were getting along in a mediocre manner. The broom seemed to like Nathaniel, in so far as a thing of limited sentience could like people. The boy didn't make excessive demands of it, and had long gentle fingers that absently petted it.

However the boy, for all his gentle ways, was rather lacking in the equation of magic for flying. The broom tried its damnedest, but still the maximum height Nathaniel could get was five feet up. He kangaroo-hopped around the Quidditch field once or twice, grimly determined, with the mostly black
kitten watching from the relative safety of the roof of the broomshed.

"I'm okay," Raphael reported, grinning at the coach, and mouthing a 'sorry' to Niki. Right. Back on the broom. Although... just why had he fallen -

He spotted the broom loitering with intent up by the top of the seating stadium, looking embarrassed. He called to it, and it swooped down shakily, only just missing taking off Nathaniel's head on one of the downhops. Seeing Nathaniel Raphael tried his best to make some mental notes on his technique - it was quite different to everyone else's...

The broom looked like it was going to slow down when it was coming towards him. He stepped out of the way of Niki, and whistled with his fingers in his mouth. The shaking in the broom increased, as did it's speed... right at Raphael.

Raphael ran towards it. And then skidded into a racers block, and waited for a moment with his eyes closed. Then - with a shout - he was off, and grabbing at the broom to his right. By the time that Raphael passed Anders, although the broom hadn't gained any height, Raphael had leapt onto it and was curled around it, letting one of his hands dangle loose. He picked a summer daisy.

Doing a skid in mid-air by pushing away the broom with his feet while hanging on for grim death with his right, Raphael fell downwards for a moment as the broom switched tail for head in mid air. Then got pulled back vertical as the magic reoriented itself and shot off again, whereupon he attempted to assume the position that everyone else was doing.

He managed it, although for some reason he slipped around the broom and his head was being whipped by the blades of grass.

Coming back for a second sweep over Anders, Raphael threw the daisy to Niki as an apology (with a grin thrown in for good measure - even if everyone was better at this broom thing it was fun) and shot off towards Nathaniel, scratching his leg with a major itch on the way.

Damn. Too quick, Raphael thought, and realised that if he didn't slow down, he was gonna crash right into Nathaniel... not good etiquette. So he slid down the broom with his feet, and dropped all of his weight onto his feet that were on the bushy part of the broom, and pulled up with his hands. The
broom screeched as it was forcibly pushed into a vertical position, and slowed down considerably.

Raphael called out to Nathaniel as he did his best to hover in the strange position, although the broom was shaking like mad and started to fall. "How're you meant to do this stuff again?"

"Somewhere between your technique and mine, I think!" Nathaniel called back, fighting with the panicked broom.

He fell off and landed on his back staring up at the sky. "This is a ... unique way of looking at the world, I suppose." he said to himself.

Sarah had remounted her broom when it was obvious that Raphael was OK. He seemed to be avoiding talking with her since the incident by the lakeside. She didn't know him well enough to be able to
tell if it was her or personal stuff going on in his head which he'd snap out of given a little space.

His acrobatics were impressive though. Raphael appeared to do everything at a frenetic pace. If he could calm down and yet keep that flair he'd be one hell of a player. Good raw material.

She smiled at Nathaniel's remark about technique. Nathaniel was plucky though. She's watched his progress with interest as well as assisting some other younger students with their broom technique.

Sarah landed near to Nathaniel when he'd had his fall. She hovered close to the ground. "Nathaniel, do you need a hand? It's best to get back up and on it if at all possible. Like falling from a horse if you've ever ridden one. Falls are a fact of life. That's probably why we play on such squishy grass. Softer!"

"Horses? No. I mean, uh.. " Memories twisted and spun. "Yeah. I have."

He rolled over and got to his feet, and beckoned the broom closer. It came obediently and he scrambled back up, face set with grim determination to master this or die in the attempt. The fact that he could get it airborne was, to him, an indication that he Could fly. Just not... properly.

Niki didn't catch the flower, but she picked it up from the ground and tucked it behind her ear before sidling away from the pitch. She had been planning to practice her flying a bit, but now going and doing something which did not require strenuous physical activity--something like research, of which she had quite a lot to do.

She hummed to herself as she crossed the grounds. The leaves were starting to turn colours, something she wasn't completely used to, and she remembered how cold she had been the previous winter, mentally making a note to buy a heavier cloak.

**********

Jacob, meanwhile, had quietly mounted his broom and pushed off. Ignoring the others, he practised flying, with a sort of ease that the tall boy could never quite seem to find on the ground. He
gradually began to relax as the others didn't really notice him, trying more and more difficult techniques.

He had just begun to practice sharp, screeching turns, and a vague smile had slowly appeared and then remained on his face. After one extremely short turn and stop, he caught his glasses just as they fell off of his nose.

Chuckling lightly to himself, he put them back on. He had been nearly blind without them, only able to see the dim outline of something pale holding onto a pair of thin-rimmed, somewhat circular shapes.

Both of his hands had left the broom as he adjusted the glasses, but he remained comfortably suspended. Finally, gripping easily with one hand, he urged the somewhat stubborn school broom forward, moving at a leisurely pace farther across the field.

Sarah was glad to see Nathaniel remount. She wasn't the type to fuss. He was getting the hang of it and confidence was pretty important.

She also noted that Jacob had come out for practice.

A couple of Fourth Year Hufflepuffs (those almost invisible students) challenged her to a race and she spent a pleasant few minutes madly dashing from one end of the field to the other beating them easily.

She finished the last run with a few loopy-deloops which frankly almost cost her her breakfast.

Even though she knew she wouldn't be allowed to undertake trials on her Nimbus she enjoyed its speed. There was only one thing better than zooming around on her racing broom and she was strictly forbidden to do it this year at Hogwarts. Mean ole parents!

Raphael had seen what Sarah was doing, and started trying to copy her, after moving a safe distance and leaving the much safer Nathaniel on his own. The loop-de-loop seemed easy enough, although he personally preferred just throwing himself over the side of the broom, twisting his hands loosely to slip sideways and flying upside down for a minute or two.

Then one of the Hufflepuffs, noticing Raphael quite happily flying suspended downwards from his broom, and shouted across if he wanted a race. Raphael did. He had a feeling that although his broom was feeling rather annoyed at him already, it'd feel good embarrassing another.

They shot across the field at top speed, Raphael gaining the lead quickly until he was far ahead of the giggly Hufflepuff girl simply by straightening himself along the broom and letting the speed keep him horizontal, even if his feet were behind the brush. And then he pulled his broom up into a climb seeing just how far behind the girl was.

He'd gained a little height and the broom was starting to do it's shake rattle and fall routine when he swapped around, yawing to the right, and shot back downwards directly towards the Hufflepuff girl. A scream was the response, even when Raphael slid under the girl upside-down so their brooms almost touched, before he nosed down and put himself back on the broom.

He was about to run into Sarah, although the broom was at a respectable speed. What... what was he meant to do about her? Raphael knew what Zephyr had seen: it was irrefutable. But... perhaps... perhaps even if her and Nathaniel were gonna be an item they'd still have room for him? As a friend?

He always had Zephyr.

But it wasn't enough. When he'd been under the sorting hat, when... when _whatever_ that happened, happened, it'd been Nathaniel he'd been able to grip. And Sarah - Raphael didn't - he couldn't - but she was important, too, she'd seen just how much Zephyr could... be part of him. She hadn't been afraid or treated Zephyr like an animal. And when he'd needed them... they'd sat on the steps outside in the cool air and...

Raphael drew his broom close to Sarah's, and shouted across to her about lunch. He'd decided. He wouldn't mention what he saw: he couldn't, but he could be around Sarah and Nathaniel until they wanted space. Nothing heavy. They'd just hang out. And then he'd been able to get into lessons. Maybe.

It was all too difficult to think about. He threw a grin and a wave at Nathaniel, tried to do a handstand on his broom, twisted and shot the exhausted broom neatly into the soft grass. Well... that was one way of landing, at least

Sarah of course had no idea if what thoughts were going through Raphael's head or Zephyr's assumptions about she and Nathaniel.

She wasn't at all sure what had happened in the woods and was taking the attitude that she'd assume they were good friends until such time as something else happened.

She had enjoyed seeing Raphael speed about and herself took some pleasure in demonstrating her hovering ability with the Starfish and Stick manoeuvre though she had no plans to try out for Keeper - she just liked to experience the pull of gravity hanging in this way.

A little while later when Raphael pulled up and suggested lunch she gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. She landed a little way behind him and waited for Nathaniel to join them so they could walk back to the

Castle together.

*******

After relating what she could remember of the lakeside events to Marvo, Shinrei excused herself and began to wander off, with every intention to go back to the castle, look for food somewhere, and eat. She did not know why, but dealing with so many people at any one time exhausted her.

She would rather run for miles, alone. It was not as tiring.

As she began to walk away, there was a commotion at the middle of the Quidditch field. Raphael had fallen on Niki...? She squinted into the distance. Yes. But Kathryn-san was there, and the new Quidditch coach was there too.

Shinrei had suffered enough because of her attempts at intervening in situations such as this one. No more. She was too tired.

She turned back towards the castle but saw someone standing a short distance away, looking in the
direction of the Forbidden Forest with an expression of unmistakable longing.

Shinrei walked towards the Irish girl. "Pardon me, Mahou-san? I just wanted to ask if you are well, after what happened last night."

Mahou looked calmly to Shinrei, seemingly almost a different person than only last night. "I.. I'll be alright', Lady Shinrei," she told the other girl. Smiling, Mahou squeezed Shinrei's shoulder briefly, then looked out to the grounds again. "I jus' miss havin' trees around me. An' such as tha', ye ken?" The half-elf's voice was so full of such loneliness and emptiness, one would be led to think she valued plant-life over the company of humans. Turning to Shin, Mahou twirled her Firebolt lightly.

"Ye e'er fly, there, Miss Shinrei?" she asked jovially. "I like ta consider meself th' best flier in me family. O' course.. Da hates brooms, prefers to ride on.. other things.." she looked away for a moment, hiding something, "an' Ma loves brooms, but I still be better than her." She grinned as the wind gusted a bit, pulling her hat up. Mahou quickly yanked the thing over her ears.

"I am glad to hear that you are all right," Shinrei said, glancing at the Forest and grounds herself. The
treetops, dappled with morning sunlight, looked inviting, rich and beautiful. She could very well
understand Mahou's longing to immerse herself in the wilderness.

She returned Mahou's smile with one of her own. She wondered fleetingly if Mahou could see the deep
circles under her eyes, after her sleepless night.

"I understand what you mean when you say you miss certain aspects of nature," she added. "I miss the sea of my homeland, too, Mahou-san. All my life I lived by the shore, and now it is very different here. No fiery sunsets or the salt spray...even the red-brown sand."

Nostalgia swept through her and she felt pricking at the corners of her eyes. Perhaps she really needed a good long cry to let all her emotions out. Everything seemed to be hurting her, somehow.

"That is a beautiful Firebolt, Mahou-san," Shinrei commented, assessing the girl's broom to change her
own train of thought. Thinking hurt, too. "I am certain such a broom would only be owned by an
excellent flier. You play as Seeker, do you not? And, yes, I do fly at times, though not very often."

Mahou looked at her Firebolt and then widened her strange, slanted eyes at Shinrei's question. "Play as Seeker?" she asked, shocked and amazed. "I would love ta play as Seeker, but.. well.. th' tryouts are nae t'day. But I practise a lot at home on holidays."

Grinning, she looked back to the castle. "It be gettin' late we'd better get back inta th' castle an' prepare fer classes tomorrow." She did have her meeting with Snape to prepare for.

With that, she grabbed Shinrei's hand, laughing merrily, with her Firebolt in the other, and began to trot back to the school.