Prologue: To Fly

"'Hope' is the thing with feathers."

-Emily Dickinson from 'The Poems of Emily Dickinson'

There was a harsh ticking in Slughorn's office that night, just as unforgiving and annoying as any clock could be in a silent room. A year later, Lyra would just have to close her eyes to remember its unrelenting sound, like a nagging, beastly thing mocking her over and over.

Needless to say, the clock was doing its job just nicely, informing her, even if she wasn't watching it, that time was slowly passing by, creeping on like it didn't have a care in the world what you did between each irritable tick it provided. At the time, Lyra had only been bothered by the noise as she sat silently, waiting for Slughorn to begin their discussion. A year later, Lyra only saw the slow passing of time as an inner demon, following her around, reminding her that her days at Hogwarts wouldn't last forever.

"Have you thought of what you're going to do after graduation, Miss Ludlow?" Slughorn had asked her her fifth year. "Any plans once you're out of Hogwarts?"

Sitting across from the Potion's Master, Lyra had shrugged, looking around the room wishing she could silence the clock on the wall.

A year ago, she hadn't been concerned. Graduation was still so far away to worry about professions that Lyra never thought to stop and think. She now wished that she had been smarter, sensible enough to care.

Slughorn had ruffled through a folder with Lyra's name on it. She could see old tests and assignments that she had completed sticking out around the corners. "Now, I know you've just recently received an Outstanding on my last test," He had said, pulling notes from the folder. "Yes, yes, here it is! Full marks on your Invigoration Draught yesterday and here… you've got an Exceeds Expectations on your essay… Perhaps you'd like to try your hand at Healing, Miss Ludlow?"

And again, Lyra had shrugged the idea off, this time shaking her head. She never liked the idea of healing even now, when she was becoming desperate to find something, anything to look forward to after Hogwarts.

"No? Well… Let's see…" Slughorn pulled a new page from the folder and studied it for a while. "You're Arithmancy scores aren't at all too bad… Perhaps Gringotts? You'd have to work fairly hard at raising your scores, though they are all ready something to be proud of, but those goblins, they're hard to impress, you know. Or you can aim to become an Auror! You're marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts are very good. You remember Steven Deverill? He graduated last year. Only student strait out of Hogwarts to be taken on by the Aurors in the past two years. Quite the achievement!" He had nodded to something over her head, commenting on Deverill's picture behind her but Lyra never looked, she had already begun tuning her Professor out, hardly interested in Gringotts or Auror's to pay much mind. "Do any of those ideas seem interesting to you?" He had asked.

She remembered the way her Professor had studied her after she shook her head again, and the memory followed her every time graduation came to mind. You have no idea, it mocked her. You're lost. You have no plan.

"Surely, there's something you've always seen yourself doing, Miss Ludlow." Slughorn had asked. "Had a dream, perhaps, that you've had since you were very little?"

She had looked at Slughorn then, thinking that she shouldn't say anything but at the same time wanting the whole world to know. Lyra chewed her lip thinking that yes, she did in fact have a dream, and she wanted it more than anything.

And she'd do anything to get it.

Pulling herself back to the present time, Lyra cast a hard gaze at the grandfather clock in the quiet Slytherin common room. The second hand was moving in time with the silver pendulum and the same harsh ticking from Slughorn's office last year was echoing around her. Lyra glared at it, her brown eyes trying desperately to melt its gears.

Looking back, she now thought, maybe she always knew what she wanted to do. She did know, in fact, always. It just wasn't what others would have chosen for her and so she had tried ignoring the burning, itching desire to follow her heart. It was silly and a little bit mental… a lot a bit mental she should say but who was to say that a girl couldn't dream? Even if it was impossible?

It was ridiculous, a simple, albeit crazy dream that she came up with. It was a dead end. A fruitless hope. It'd get her nowhere in the end.

But who ever said it was the end you should strive for?

Watching the clock and listening to its ticking, Lyra could almost hear her voice, one year ago as she told her Head of House her dream. And despite his utter look of disapproval, the memory brought a smile to Lyra's fair face.

"I want to fly," She had said, loving how it tasted on her tongue. "I just want to fly…"

Author's Note: Oh my... A new story? Please review!