A thestral stood where Draco Malfoy had been just a moment before. The only difference between him and the rest of the herd was his eyes. Dark grey-like storm clouds. He kicked the ground with his hooves, shook his mane, and dashed away from where she stood, paralysed and aghast at the animagus that he’d become. He dodged around the edge of a hillock that broke the landscape, and she knew that he’d soon  be running up that road. Be running up that hill. Be running up that building  and then into the sky.