Harry Potter and the Quidditch Island

Harry Potter and the Quidditch Island

A Happy Ending; A Troubled Beginning

"Oooh, I think I'm going to burst," Ron Weasley moaned to his Gryffindor comrades as he climbed through the hole behind a portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress. He stumbled across the room and flopped down in large armchair.

"Yeah, that feast was probably the best yet," Harry Potter agreed as he followed Ron into the large common room. He and Ron were two of the many students in the Gryffindor house at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. These two young wizards were just returning from the 'End of the Year' feast that was held in the Great Hall. Though the food was exceptional, it was perhaps ameliorated by the fact that it marked the end of a very long year. Both Ron and Harry could agree that it was a relief to be starting their vacations so that they could finally relax.

"The house-elves really outdid themselves this time, wouldn't you agree Hermione?" Ron said casually to a girl with bushy brown hair as she climbed through the portrait hole.

"Aterious!" Hermione spat at him, and Ron's hair and eyebrows turned from their normal bright red to a brilliant jet black. Laughter rang out across the room as Ron shrieked in terror and frantically began tapping his head with his wand in attempts to change it back. Hermione, on the other hand, slumped down into one of the high backed chairs and let out a long sigh. This year had been hard on all of them, but it seemed that Hermione had taken it worst than the rest. They had all taken their O.W.L. (Ordinary Wizarding Level) exams and Hermione had been working overtime to get top marks.

Harry chuckled as he sat down in the chair opposite her. He knew all too well how devoted Hermione was to house-elf rights. In their fourth year at Hogwarts, she had started a club to campaign against their enslavement.

"Come on, Hermione, lighten up," he said. "It's all over for a few months. You need to relax." He looked over at Ron, whose hair, while not quite back to normal, was now a sickly shade of acid green. "Change his hair back," Harry wheedled. "Please?"

Hermione looked up at him, sighed again, and flicked her wand over her shoulder, changing Ron's hair back to its usual bright red colour. Ron slouched into the chair next to Harry and glared at Hermione.

"Sorry," she sighed, "I'm just tired. It's been a long year and all I want is to go home and see my family."

"See Vicky, you mean," Ron began, referring to the internationally acclaimed Quidditch Seeker Viktor Krum who had taken a fancy to Hermione during the Triwizard Tournament. When he saw the icy glare that Hermione was giving him, however, he changed tack at the speed of light. "But, you're right," he said quickly. "I can't wait to get home."

Harry said nothing. Apart from Ron and Hermione, he didn't want to return home, no matter how stressful the year had been. Hogwarts had always seemed more like home than life at number four, Privet Drive. He had moved there to live with his aunt and uncle and enormously massive cousin Dudley when he was one year old, an orphan, believing that his parents had died in a car accident, which had given him the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. This all changed on his eleventh birthday, when he found out that his parents had actually been killed by the most evil wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort, and that his scar was from a curse that backfired and stripped Voldemort of his powers. In the time before his eleventh birthday, his relatives had treated him horribly, and while their behaviour towards him had slightly improved since he began his wizard training (mainly because they were afraid of him), his summers with them were never enjoyable.

"Don't worry, Harry," said Ron, noticing his forlorn look. "You can come to my house this summer. You too, Hermione, we can all have a jolly time!" He smiled hopefully at them, but all Hermione could do was yawn.

"Sorry I'm not too enthusiastic right now, Ron," she said apologetically, "But I'm beat. I'm going to bed. Goodnight." She stood up, yawned, and walked towards the girls' dormitory, giving them a tired smile as she went. Crookshanks, her large ginger cat, jumped up from his resting place by the fire and followed her, his large tail bobbing as he went.

"What's up with her?" Ron asked. "It's the holidays, she should be celebrating."

"She's probably just tired," Harry said. He yawned. "I guess I am too. I'm going to call it a night. See ya tomorrow morning."

"Bright and early for the Hogwarts Express!" Ron exclaimed with an overenthusiastic smile. Harry chuckled at Ron's sarcasm, but this chuckle quickly turned into a yawn. Ron shook his head. "What's with you all?" he muttered. "I've never seen so many depressed people on a holiday since Ginny's seventh birthday when Fred filled the cake with Cockroach Clusters that accidentally turned into real roaches when the magic candles were blown out."

Harry trudged up the spiral staircase as Ron rambled on to fellow Gryffindors Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas about Fred's prank. He hadn't realized how tired he really was until he actually had to use his muscles. Harry changed into his pyjamas and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Harry awoke in the night sweating. He felt as though the blankets that were wrapped around him were getting tighter and tighter. He flung them off and lay back town, trying to get back to sleep, but he still had a terrible feeling that he was trapped. Harry, who was not prone to claustrophobia, whipped back the curtains of his four-poster bed. He had a sudden urge to get out of the castle. It could not have been later than two in the morning, but he felt wide-awake. He looked over at the trunk at the end of his bed, containing all of his school things. His Firebolt, an internationally acclaimed racing broom, was lying on top of it.

Of all of the items that Harry had acquired during his five years in the wizarding world, none of them topped the racing broom that had been given to him by his godfather and convicted murderer, Sirius Black. Sirius had been wrongly convicted of killing a thirteen people, when in truth it was the work of Peter Pettigrew, an old friend who betrayed Sirius, Harry's father James, and their friend Remus Lupin, joined up with Voldemort, faked his own death and fled. Pettigrew, an Animagus who could turn himself into a rat, had joined Ron's family as their faithful and rather useless pet Scabbers until Harry's third year at Hogwarts, when Sirius had escaped from wizard prison and exposed the truth to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Lupin. For thirty glorious minutes, Sirius' name had been cleared and Harry believed that he would be living with his godfather and leaving the Dursleys forever. But Pettigrew, otherwise known as Wormtail, had escaped and helped Lord Voldemort regain human form, while Sirius remained convicted for a crime he hadn't committed and was forced to remain in hiding. The Firebolt that was sent to Harry the Christmas of his third year was a gift from Sirius to make up for thirteen years of skipped birthdays.

Harry picked up the Firebolt and held it in his hands. He had a sudden urge to fly it. Quickly, he opened the trunk and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, another useful item that had once belonged to his father and rendered Harry invisible when wearing it. As quietly as he could, Harry put on the cloak, grabbed his broomstick, and opened the door of his dormitory. Neville Longbottom, a very forgetful boy, snorted in his sleep as Harry closed the door. He crept to the bottom of the stairs, across the empty common room, and crawled through the portrait hole. Standing in the hallway, he mounted his broom, making sure that the cloak covered it completely, and kicked off.

He flew down the halls, soaring between statues and through classrooms. It was an odd sensation to be flying inside. Books and papers ruffled as he sped past them. Portraits muttered curiously as they heard him rip through the still and silent air of the castle. They were becoming a blur of mumbling colour. He flew down a long, empty corridor. Moonlight poured through a large window and Harry realized that it wasn't as empty as it had appeared. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was on her usual night-time prowl. Her lamp-like eyes looked straight at him as he stopped in midair, her arched back casting frightening shadows on the walls. Harry had always wondered whether Invisibility Cloaks worked on cats, or if Mrs. Norris just had a keen nose for anything out of the ordinary, as she was always aware of his presence while he was wearing it. Not wanting to wait and find out, he quickly reversed and flew in the opposite direction. His longing to reach the outside was now greater than ever. The air in the castle seemed to be getting thicker, and it was almost as if the Firebolt was being slowed down, like he was trying to fly through a castle of molasses.

It seemed that Mrs. Norris had become warier of any disturbances in the past year, for as Harry sped along on his night-time joyride, he saw the shadow of Filch, the caretaker, streaming down the hall with Mrs. Norris at his feet, his cloak flowing out behind him. Filch's bony silhouette was a frightening sight as he stalked about, like a wolf hunting its prey in the dead of night. Harry braked and flew in the opposite direction of the caretaker and his cat, but no sooner had he turned the corner than he found himself facing a dead end.

"This wasn't here before!" he whispered frantically at the wall. But, if you lived in Hogwarts, you had to get used to the fact that the walls, staircases and classrooms often changed places.

"What is it, my pet?" he heard Filch say, not to far down the hall. "Are there students wandering the halls after bedtime?"

Harry knew that Filch would jump at the chance to give a student some form of punishment during the summer break. It was common knowledge that he longed for the days when students were hung from the dungeon ceilings as punishment. Filch stalked along the hall, poking his nose into every corner that could conceal a student, while Harry looked desperately for a way out. He might be invisible, but the hall was narrow and the ceiling was low, meaning it would only be moments before Filch ran into him. Looking at the window next to him, Harry saw hinges along one side. His heart gave a leap and he tried pushing it, hoping to escape to the grounds. With one last shove, the window was open just wide enough for Harry to fly through, which he did right before it snapped shut behind him. He could hear Filch yelling inside of the castle, something about ghosts and poltergeists, but that didn't matter now, Harry was free.

With a burst of speed, Harry soared across the grounds, the cloak flapping as he went. He headed straight for the forest, but turned sharply before he entered and flew along the border until suddenly rocketing straight up. He could see almost all of the grounds from that height. He paused for a moment, enjoying the view, then plummeted straight down and skimmed the surface of the lake.

This feeling was what life was for. There were no boundaries to where he could go. He was free. The only sound he could hear was the flapping of his cloak as he parted through the still air. He saw a splash ahead of him as a Grindylow jumped out of the water and plunged back in. He flew along the water, following the path of light that was reflecting off of the full moon. A howl pierced the silence, possibly one of the werewolves that were rumoured residents of the Forbidden Forest, and the sound of birds taking flight filled the night air. Harry looked quickly towards the forest as these birds flew out into the night sky like a great black cloud. He spun around and headed towards the small hut on the edge of the grounds. This hut belonged to Hagrid, the grounds keeper.

It was Hagrid who had met Harry on his eleventh birthday, much to his relatives' outrage, and had introduced him to the wizarding world. Once a student of Hogwarts himself, Hagrid had been expelled in his third year because of a mix up concerning the legendary Chamber of Secrets. Harry, Ron, and his sister Ginny all knew of the horrors of this chamber, as did the many students who had fallen victim to its deadly contents. Hagrid himself had actually been raising an Acromantula named Aragog, a giant spider creature, which had scared Ron out of his wits, not to mention given Harry quite a fright as well. Hagrid was known to be fond of monstrous creatures and to treat them as though they were nothing but cuddly bunny rabbits.

As Harry flew towards the hut, Hagrid's boarhound, Fang, began barking rapidly, obviously recognizing Harry's scent. Harry's heart lurched as he turned abruptly and sped towards the castle, knowing that he had attracted too much attention. Though he was invisible, Harry knew that his trip was over. Now two people and two animals knew that something was about tonight, which was four too many. Harry could hear a door open behind him and Hagrid's voice as he investigated the disturbance.

Harry sped back towards the castle in the direction of the Gryffindor tower. Now that the excitement of the ride was over, his entire mood had changed. Harry was finding it hard to see straight. Shadows were casting strange shapes along the grounds and his eyes were playing tricks with his mind. His eyes scanned the walls of the castle, looking for an open window, but finding one was going to be difficult. He was suddenly tired again.

And then, only about twenty meters away, he saw a window that was open just a crack. Harry flew towards it, but realized that, though it was a time when everyone was normally asleep, there was a light on in the room directly above his open window. Shapes were moving back and forth through the room and shadows danced upon the walls. Harry looked curiously at it as he slowly approached the wall, being careful not to allow his cloak to flap noisily. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the silhouette of Professor Snape in the room.

Ever since his first day at Hogwarts, Snape had always seemed to be out to get him. His classes were easily the hardest Harry had ever been in, even in his years back in the non-magical world. Snape treated the students in his own house, Slytherin, better than all others, but Harry and the Gryffindors had always had an especially hard time with Snape. The reason for Snape's personal vendetta against Harry dated back to Snape's own school days and his rivalry with Harry's father, James Potter, who had once saved his life.

Harry didn't want to cross Snape, but his head was becoming heavy. He wasn't feeling trapped anymore, on the contrary he wanted to be back in his bed. All he needed to do was to the open window just a bit more and slide through. When he reached the wall, he grabbed the sill and gently tried to pull the window open, but it seemed to be stuck. Without thinking, he gave the window a great tug. An ear-splitting screech filled the air as the window turned on its rusty hinges. Even though he was invisible, Harry froze. For a second he was sure that his heart had stopped. He looked up at the window above and had to stifle a cry of surprise when he saw Snape's sallow face hanging out the window, staring right through him.

Harry held his breath. Snape knew about his invisibility cloak, and he had a sixth sense that told him whenever Harry was breaking any rules. The professor stared at him for a moment that felt like it would never end; so long that Harry began to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen. Finally, Snape looked up and around to see what could have caused the disturbance. Deciding that the coast was clear, he pulled his head back into the castle. In his haste, Snape forgot to close the window. Harry exhaled quickly and started breathing again; his vision was becoming blurry and he felt heavy on the Firebolt. This joyride was over, and he wanted more than anything to be back in his four-poster bed. He was about to go through the window, when one phrase from Snape caught his attention.

"I'm sorry to call you out so late, professor, but it's an urgent matter that must be discussed. It's about Harry Potter."

Harry looked up in surprise. What had he done? Had Snape actually seen him floating there? Questions filled his head. I need to get back to the common room, he told himself, but something was keeping him rooted to the spot. He had to listen to what Snape had to say about him.

Professor Dumbledore's voice was the next thing that he heard.

"And I assume that this information is involving Voldemort?" Dumbledore's voice was calm, yet there was a sense of urgency in his tone. "I do appreciate the risks that you are taking, Severus."

"The Dark Lord is suspicious, Professor. I'm not sure that I will be able to give you the information you need much longer. He knows there is someone on the inside, and I'm sure he will be investigating all of his Death Eaters. It will only be a matter of time before he discovers me. Of course, I will continue to relay information; I am just warning you that my ties with him and his supporters are not as strong as they used to be, and his punishments are very severe."

Snape's voice trailed off. Was that a hint of fear that Harry heard?

"Again, Severus, I thank you for the risks you are taking, and I tell you that the information you are gathering is not in vain. However, you must tell me now what you know about Harry."

Snape paused. Harry, still frozen to the spot, waited for the professor to speak. Half of him desperately wanted to know what was awaiting him, yet the other half wanted to run. Sometimes, it was better not to know. Ignorance is bliss, after all. But Harry stayed routed to the spot, his hands clamped firmly on the broomstick.

"Sir," Snape began, "I fear that Potter will not be safe with his relatives this summer. Voldemort knows of the enchantments over the house. I fear he has found a way to get past them."

"But how? Dumbledore, I thought that wasn't possible," another voice said sharply. Harry's heart leapt. It was Sirius.

"As did I, Sirius," Dumbledore began. "When his parents were killed, we sent Harry to live with his aunt and uncle because it would be the best place for him to grow before being introduced to the fame that awaited him in our world. And yet, it was impossible for me to believe that Voldemort was finished and would never harm Harry again, whether by his own doing or through his supporters. Therefore, security measures had to be taken. As long as he was in his relatives' care, Voldemort could not harm him. I had my own supporters as well, living near enough to Harry to protect him in case of danger."

"Arabella Figg," Sirius said softly, sounding amused. "She always enjoyed introducing Harry to her cats."

"Yes, she among others were working for me in the Muggle world," Dumbledore continued. "However, even the most complex enchantments and most precise spells can be broken if enough time and energy is spent on finding a way."

"Yes, Voldemort is well aware of the enchantments on that house," Snape cut in quickly. "Over the school months he has sent many Death Eaters to the house in the form of door to door salesmen, missionaries, and shipping people with wrong addresses. Each person that he sent had taken information about the house, the hexes and the family. He made it clear to them not to harm the Dursleys as to not arouse suspicion. I feel that he will be able to access Harry over the summer. The safest thing would be to send Harry to somewhere else. Preferably, this place would be out of the way, somewhere Voldemort wouldn't think of looking, and where Potter would be surrounded by witches and wizards at all times."

"Couldn't he just stay with the Weasleys?" Sirius asked. "I'm sure they'd be glad to take him."

"No, that would be an unwise decision," Snape said curtly. Though Harry couldn't see into the room, he could tell that this remark would have both Sirius and Snape scowling at each other. He knew of their rivalry all too well.

"I tend to agree with Severus," Dumbledore cut in with a sharp tone to his voice. "If Voldemort were to attack Harry, he would most likely go for his close friends first. That leaves the Weasleys, Hagrid, and Hermione Granger at greatest risk, along with you, Sirius, and Remus Lupin. I think that the most prudent course of action would be to send Hermione to stay with the Weasleys this summer. While she is a capable young witch, she would be no match for a group of Death Eaters if they decided to attack her Muggle household. Extra protection must also be sent to the Weasleys. Perhaps Mundungus Fletcher would be willing to keep an eye on them, or the Lovegoods, as they live in the area. In the meantime, Harry should be sent somewhere entirely different."

"But, with all the security at the Weasleys', don't you feel he would be safer there?" Sirius asked.

"That would be the first place Voldemort would look for him after he realized that Harry wasn't with his relatives," Snape said. "No, we must find somewhere safer for him. Somewhere easy to defend, and also where he could defend himself. And the place would have to be kept a carefully guarded secret."

Harry looked blankly into his open window. He wouldn't be able to stay with the Weasleys this summer. He would have to be prepared to defend himself. They were putting him into hiding. And worst of all, he would be alone. Questions rushed through his mind. What would await him? What would happen to the Weasleys? And the Dursleys, would they be safe? As much as he despised them, Harry would never wish Voldemort upon anyone.

In a loud ruffling of feathers, two large crows flew away from their perch over the window of the room where Snape, Dumbledore and Sirius were holding their meeting, making Harry jump.

"Are you sure you want to send him there?" Sirius asked.

"He will be on his toes all summer," Dumbledore replied. "Given the circumstances, this is the best place we could send him."

Send me where? Harry thought to himself. He listened more intently, hoping they would mention it again.

"Sir," Snape started, "The arrangements must be made quickly. Are you sure they will have enough time to prepare for him? The journey on the Hogwarts Express will certainly get him to platform nine and three quarters too early."

"Do not worry, Professor Snape, I will take care of the train," Dumbledore said in a much lighter tone. Though he couldn't see it, Harry was sure that Dumbledore had that magical twinkle in his eyes.

"But can it be arranged in time?"

"Again, Severus, you have nothing to worry about. I have ties with the people in charge, and if nothing has changed, an owl in the middle of the night will not be a problem."

"Sir, can I see him before I leave?" Sirius asked. "Just for a moment, I haven't seen him in a long time."

Harry's stomach lurched. What would happen if Sirius got to the dormitory and found his bed empty?

"No, Sirius, I'm afraid I cannot allow that. The boy mustn't know anything is wrong. And I must ask you to limit your contact with him over the summer. If an owl were to be intercepted, it would give away his location, causing an endless number of problems." Dumbledore's voice softened. "I'm sorry, Sirius. We both know how inquisitive Harry is, and we can't risk him running off, trying to solve mysteries and what not. Not now, when the stakes are so high. Try not to concern yourself over his well being. I assure you he will be in good hands. Spend some time with the Weasleys this summer."

Harry heard a door open and close, and he was sure Sirius was gone.

"Come Severus, we have much to do." There was the sound of two cloaks ruffling just before the lights were extinguished.

As if the Firebolt was thinking on its own, it slid through the window and flew down the corridors; Harry felt like he wasn't controlling the broomstick. The Fat Lady barely had time to swing to the side as he said the password and the broomstick flew through the portrait hole. As suddenly as it had started, the broom stopped in mid air, and Harry was flung into an armchair. He stared into the fire; its heat washed over him like a warm blanket. He barely thought of what had just happened. He only stared into the flames.