Jump and try not to look down.
Oliver was awoken to the sound of rain, the misty brush of water danced on his skin as it began to pour around him. The cave he was somewhat in sparingly gave him enough dry space. At least it urged him to get up quicker, which he did with a groan of protest. He used his robe to cover himself, muttering a small “Impervius,” to hopefully repel water so his robe wouldn't soak. With a tight grip to his spell-book on his chest, he was off towards the castle. As he arrived towards the school, he kept his face covered by the robe until the roof shielded the rain. He laid the book on a chair nearby– someone was bound to find and return it to its rightful owner, while searching for any stray bags and to his unfortunate luck, not a single person left one out. It was late enough where people would be leaving the dining hall, but early where there would be enough people to cover him up.
He sat down at the edge of Ravenclaw with a burdensome sigh, not a single book or bag left unattended. At least he had a meal to look forward to, and a plate full of an assortment of meats and veggies appeared in front of him. He let himself eat, much longer than usual, but he wanted to savor a home cooked meal– or a magic cooked meal? Nevertheless, the warmth flooded his system from head to toe. When he finished, the plate filled with bread loafs and different small snacks that were easy to carry.
A solace expression filled his face. He did not want to leave, but knew he had to.
“Hey, Malcolm, why aren’t you- oh, you’re not Malcolm.”
He turned slowly, trying to keep the fear away from his face. Although he was not Malcolm, he didn't want a repeat of last time– no one would be lit on fire this time. This needed to end quickly, so he kept his gaze turned down, away from the soft spoken girl, aa he apologized and swiftly got out of his seat, turning towards the dining hall exit.
He only made it a couple of steps before the girl appeared in front of him, the reminisce of magic making a poof sound, her voice sweet as she stopped him in his tracks.
“Woah, woah. You don’t have to move for me, I was just looking for my friend. I don’t think we met. I’m Gabriella! What’s your name?” The kind smile emitting from her almost made him answer, but he kept his mouth glued shut as he tried to figure out the best way out of there without causing too much attention.
“Hmm, what grade are you in? I always remember a face, especially someone in Ravenclaw!” His feet felt glued to the ground; he couldn't move, no matter how desperately his mind screamed at him to move. It was like she was testing him and she knew he didn’t know the answers. Panic was flooding his nerves, as the girl awaited any kind of response from him.
His magic was pulsing in his blood at the moment and he needed something to let him escape.
With a trembling breath, he lifted a shaky hand while gazing immensely into her dark milky eyes. And her eyebrows furrowed, as he whispered, loud enough for her to hear. "Immobilisé." In a split second her eyes widened, as the spell rippled down her body, halting her where she stood. Panickedly, her eyes desperately roamed around- a slight twitch echoing her movements when she realized she was frozen.
Guilt plagued his body as his hand fell to his side, fingers tightening into a fist, while he whispered, “I’m sorry, please forget you saw me.” And he was off, moving fast to get as far away as he could– far away from the terrified frozen girl. He evacuated the dining hall as fast as he could, but could hear the sudden commotion from students noticing the frozen girl.
His breath grew from his sprint, but also from the impending guilt flooding his every thought. Sneaking into Hogwarts would surely get life in Azkaban. And he’d heard enough growing up from his parents on what happens to people who end up in Azkaban– even if one makes it out, they are forever changed by the horrors from inside.
So he was off, his shoes echoing in the hall as he ran, trying to find an exit. Unfortunately, the halls seemed to be working against him today. No matter how many halls he ran through, there was no sign of the outside world– each turn ending in a sudden dead end. Alarm bells started flooding through his system– that he needed to get out.
After rounding the fifth dead end, the sound of small footsteps behind him, which were too close for comfort, filled the hallway. Even though he didn’t want to, Oliver glanced behind him, finding a familiar face– the short man from the RavenClaw room who gazed upon him with an analytical glare, his eyebrow raised as he looked him up and down. Oliver was done for.
“Hello, Oliver.” The short man said his name with a serious glare– the tone causing a chill to shoot down Oliver’s spine as the man stood there with his arms crossed, waiting for an answer, but Oliver wasn’t going to give it. He bit his tongue as he backed up slightly, the cold floor seeping between his shoes and sending a chill up his spine.
“It seems we find ourselves in an interesting situation. I never got to ask what house you were in. But to find reports of an ‘unidentified student’ entering every common room, and then reports of missing items such as books and robes taken by him.” Oliver only gaped at him, but attempted to keep his face neutral even though he was trying not to cry.
“Quite humorous indeed,” Oliver backed into the wall, the overwhelming feeling of being cornered seeping into his bones as the man paused to look him up and down before continuing, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me for the time being.” The short man kept his body facing towards him while watching every movement that Oliver made. Shakiness echoed throughout his entire body as fear overtook every part of his soul.
He took a breath in, then a breath out. There were always moments like this, where he wished he had a wand, or got taught magic properly, so when his fear bubbled and mixed with his magic, he’d have a proper way to use it, to calm his nerves. But he was never that lucky– not now, or ever.
The shorter man must’ve sensed it, because he was reaching for his wand as Oliver slammed his eyes shut, letting that magic overwhelm him, allowing him to apparate– as he appeared in a random hallway. The sudden shift in momentum had him falling backwards, hitting the wall as he tried to catch his breath.
Thankfully, the students in the hall only glanced at him in confusion but overall didn’t seem inclined to investigate his sudden appearance, so he stood and started his walk out of there, trying to seem casual with his steps. The shakiness had yet to leave his system and he couldn’t stop frantically looking around as he started his search for an exit once again.
He made it to the next hall, which was more crowded than the last when he spotted the man again, who stopped his agitated steps when he spotted Oliver. Without hesitation he pointed his wand at Oliver and promptly spat, “Levicorpus,” the magic was streaming its way towards Oliver and he racked his brain for what exactly that spell entailed, but the ‘Levi’ part of it definitely wasn’t giving him a good feeling.
He gripped the fake wand in his hand and wielded it like a baseball bat while screaming, rather loudly, “Fínate Incantatem!” Even without a wand, Oliver hoped that the spell would deflect, thankfully the moment it made contact with his stick, it deflected.
Gasping students echoed all around the halls which made him realize how everyone’s eyes were now on him. His breaths were coming out fast and he just wanted to leave.
A tiny sense of surprise echoed on the man's features, but he didn’t even spare a second before aiming again and spitting out, “Expelliarmus!” to dislodge the stick in his hand.
A huge part of Oliver was saddened since that was his favorite stick and he frowned as it clattered to the floor behind him. The man was walking through the students, as they parted to see the full show, and whispered while they tried to figure out what was happening.
Oliver's hands were empty, but he still needed to get away. The short man raised his wand for the third time and shouted, “Levicorpus!” No fake wand could protect him anymore and an immense feeling of dread encompassed his soul.
Then a bizarre thought crossed Oliver's mind: He didn’t really need a wand, did he?
Frankly, they were primarily used only to concentrate a wizard's power. There had to be a time before wands were introduced, wouldn’t many wizards have to magnify their magic? With that sudden shift in mindset, he gazed upon the spell shooting fast towards him and took a deep breath to calm his shaking nerves. With a blind trust he held out both his hands, palms forwards and firmly stated, “Fínate Incantatem.”
It must’ve worked, because he was still standing upright. But he wasn’t anywhere close to done, so before the professor could react, Oliver thought he’d like a taste of his own medicine. With a flick of his wrist he pointed towards the man’s wand and yelled, “Expelliarmus!” The clatter of the wand was echoing across the hall, many students gasping– some laughing at the pure absurdity.
Gaping at Oliver, the short man looked dumbfounded at his empty palm but Oliver wasn’t going to give him time to recover before uttering another spell, aiming for the middle of the man’s chest.
“Levicorpus,” And with a simple finger movement, the man was flipped into the air and dangled upside down. A grunt escaping his mouth as the movement. Ah, so that’s what it does.
Oliver didn’t want to waste time on a useless staring contest, so he was off in a sprint again, desperate to finally escape. As he passed underneath the man, he couldn’t help mumbling a sad sorry while he sprinted out of the hallway. Some guys watched and laughed, while another group scoffed before running after him, in disbelief of what they just saw.
He needed to get out as soon as possible, but the castle seemed to still be fighting him, leading him down a number of pathways, with no end in sight.
After turning another corner, a ray of hope finally appeared as he was met with a stairway. Thundering footsteps followed in his wake and he knew his best bet was to go up. Without a second thought, he crawled up the stairs, using his hands and feet to slither past anythone coming up or down– he did catch the surprise of some students.
The students following him were gaining, so once he reached the top he pointed at the top stair and yelled, “Glisseo!” He ran away and could hear the students shouting as they all slid downward on the stairs-turned-slide. He never thought how useful that spell was until now.
He turned the corner and gasped as a familiar face recognized him, she was the one who caught him after showering in the hufflepuff common room. “Get him!” Was all she shouted, which caused the two teachers she was speaking to abruptly snap their heads towards him as he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction– away from them. Would his bad luck ever run out?
Of course he went the other way– what was he supposed to do, let them catch him? He tried his best to run backwards but it was easier said than done and he needed to be facing the spells being shot towards him to properly disengage them. His tongue grew tired after the third “Finite Incantatem!” Frankly, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep deflecting, and he tried to wrap his head around anything– anything to get out of this situation.
His frantic thoughts were interrupted as he crashed into someone while running backwards, their sturdy arms wrapping around him as they tumbled to the ground. The echo of a spell flew above him as he fell on a warm chest. An alert voice sputtered out from above him, “woah! Watch where you’re going!” but the sound of a wand clattering focused all of Oliver’s attention. A way out.
With complete disregard for the boy underneath him, Oliver whipped his gaze to scan where the lone wand fell. Luckily, it was to the right of his head and Oliver didn’t hesitate before snatching it up in a panic-stricken way,which consisted of leaping over the boy, his foot a breath away from slamming into the wand owner's face. The yell the boy gave was ignored, because Oliver couldn’t waste a single second. With a tight grip on the wand, he slammed his back against the hard cold marble floor and caught sight of three different teachers running towards him, each gearing up spells to stop him.
He had one shot at this; he had to stop these teachers. The wand felt incredibly wrong in his hands but he still sputtered with all his might, “Impedimenta, Impedimenta, Impedimenta!” Relief flooded his system as he watched the teachers slow with every step, all of their faces slowly morphed into a look of surprise with a speed that would rival a sloth's reaction time.
Each time he uttered the spell, the wand protested and burned in his hand— but he willed it to cast them, because he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He had a limited time before the spell would wear off and he glimpsed towards the wand user and threw it towards him. Oliver’s mouth opened to apologize as they laid To dark green eyes that bore into the deepest part of his soul.
He looked about his age, holding a sense of youth behind intelligent eyes that seemed to take in every one of Oliver’s movements, from his deep breaths that did little to calm his nerves to his flushed face from the day's events. A strange sense of familiarity struck deep within him as he took in the boy's face fully. It had him blinking several times as he racked every part of his buzzing brain on where he'd seen this boy. The boy mirrored his look, as if he recognized him too. As the boy stared wide-eyed at him, he opened his mouth to speak– possibly to ask who he was or what he was doing, which was a question Oliver continually asked himself as the day's events progressed, when a yell suddenly knocked Oliver to his senses. He did not have time for this.
“Uh- sorry.” Is all Oliver managed to say, before pushing off the ground and belting into a run towards what looked like a windowed hallway. As he arrived, he realized that there was no glass in the windows as the sun shined through the opening, he almost wanted to stop to take in the evening chill in the air.
He heard the footsteps of the people following him and he let himself look out the window, the wind pushing through his shaggy hair– the cool air settling his heated skin. What a beautiful sight. The setting sun looked like a painting and every part of his body wanted to ride the rays to escape, if it let him. Perhaps in another world, but in this one he pushed his blue eyes to scan the valley below, all rocks and platforms. But in the distance, he saw the green scenery of the forest. It was just out of reach. So close, yet so far.
He knew what he had to do. So without hesitation and a bunch of fear, he stepped on the edge. The sight made his knees shake, but this was the only escape route.
The voices closing around him grew silent as the wind from so high up filled his head and the ringing in his ears was all he could feel as his magic flowed through his nerves, screaming to be let out. He let his eyes shut as he stepped on the open air, imagining the rays coming and stealing him away.
Free-falling had his stomach dropping as he accelerated down. It was extremely fast, yet the slowest thing in the world, as he vanquished all his fear to let himself fly. But he knew this would be no easy flight– he had to make it to the forest. Blue orbs widened as his body hit terminal velocity and he could feel the wind not resisting against him as much. His sight was locked on the greenery in the distance that grew closer with every second.
He would make it; failing was not an option right now. He willed gravity and wind to bend to his will as he inhaled the currents to push him closer to the forest. He was in charge right now, he had to believe that as he soured through the sky, willing the wind to break his fall as he shot towards the forest at an alarming speed.
It wasn’t clean, or easy– it never was. But as he willed the flame within him to push and glide him towards the trees of the forest. And through it all, he found a stupid smile growing on his face.
He was crash landing before he knew it, the air completely knocked out of him. He was going to feel that in the morning, as he felt the bruises form. Honestly, it was probably shock that blocked most of the pain as he bent over slightly on a tree, wheezing through the impact with laughter.
The bread in his pockets was most likely squished and in crumbs, but he didn’t care.
He was out, the magic in him dying down to a small simmer.