Harry Potter and the Quidditch Island

The Tunnel in the Library

Though Ron had suggested checking out the secret tunnel that they found, the idea was long forgotten until the end of the week for many reasons. First of all, Harry was completely exhausted after the week of training. They still hadn't actually flown yet, but Kitimer had them running thirty or more laps every day and toning all of the muscles in their bodies. Harry had almost passed out one particularly rainy day when Kitimer had them doing push-ups and sit-ups in the mud. Throughout the entire time he had them rhyming off broom makes and their designers and pretty much any type of wood imaginable that could be used in making brooms. It reminded Harry a lot of a Muggle drill camp. Kitimer even had them chanting while they ran and worked (One of Harry's least favorites started with 'Ash, Maple, Spruce and Pine/Racing brooms are really fine.')

Harry wasn't the only one with his hands full. Ron was having a terrible time trying to control the house-elves. Deborah had smacked one for trying to plant a wet-start firecracker in a pitcher of pumpkin juice, which caused the entire house-elf staff to rebel against Ron. Harry laughed out loud when Ron came to the room that night with a horse tail growing out of the back of his robes and a mane growing out of his head, trying to pry horseshoes from his hands. Though it seemed funny to watch, Harry didn't appreciate being turned him into a rat man when he tried to help Ron with the dishes again.

The elves weren't Ron's only problem. Swan had become a control freak, and since Ron was his assistant he became Swan's first target. When he wasn't being criticized on his lack of managerial skills, Ron was forced to clean and polish almost everything the manor contained, which was especially difficult as Ron was trying to do it all without using magic. Swan was reviewing statistics and old training methods, but when Ron offered to help him with the money that Swan was sorting, he almost exploded, accusing Ron of trying to steal it all.

Harry entered one of the sitting rooms and fell into a great armchair, sighing with relief. It was Saturday night, just after dinner. Training was over for that week, since they had Sundays off. Harry looked around the almost empty room. Ron had discovered it during his weekly cleanings. It was quite large, but not many people in the manor knew where it was as you had to pass through many twisting corridors to find it. Teddy and Terry were planning on meeting him there later, but at the moment, Harry was alone except for a skinny man with a long thin grey beard. He wore a very round purple hat with a large green feather sticking out of it, along with purple and green robes. He took a great puff out of what looked to Harry like a pipe with two openings, and two thin streams of smoke came out, one orange, one blue. Harry assumed that he was a tourist from some other country, taking recluse in the manor.

"Stupid elves," Ron said, coming up behind him. "One of them actually bit me." He fell into a chair next to Harry. "How about a game of wizard chess?" Ron suggested. Instantly, a small round table crawled up in front of them. The surface of the table was a chessboard.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Harry replied as chess pieces rose out of the squares. Most were sleeping, but those who were awake eyed Harry and Ron suspiciously.

"We shall take his team," the white queen called out, pointing to Ron. The table spun around so that the white pieces were near Ron.

"Drat," said the black king to his queen. "This one doesn't look like much of a player, does he dear?"

"No, he most certainly does not," she replied.

"Do you want me to let him win?" Harry threatened.

She gave a dignified sniff and turned to face her opponents. With that, the battle began. Harry's skills in chess hadn't improved much over the years. Within minutes he was already losing horribly. The queen and king were eying him with disgust while a rather bold knight yelled different suggestions to him. This resulted in an argument between some rather cowardly pawns that didn't want to be sacrificed. Annoyed, Harry ended up killing off the loudest pawn.

"I think this will be the last game we will play together," Harry sighed to Ron. "I'm sick of losing."

"Come on Harry, everyone needs to lose sometimes," Ron protested.

"Or maybe you just want to win," Harry said.

Ron grinned and opened his mouth to speak but a roar from the hallway stopped him.

"BREAZLEY!" Swan came marching into the room, causing the skinny purple wizard to jump and rush out.

"Why are you sitting here?" he snarled. "Wasting time again, are you?"

"Sir, I've done my work," Ron protested, but not very strongly. The glare in Swan's eyes was very frightening. "All of my daily chores are done, and I've done everything else you told me to. Technically, I should have the rest of the night off."

Swan looked as though he was about to explode, but he couldn't find anything wrong with what Ron had just told him.

"Fine," he snapped. "But I expect you to be right back to work early Monday morning." He looked at their game. "Move your queen three spaces forwards, Potter," Swan barked. Harry, not wanting to cross Swan, obediently moved it forward. Swan turned smugly to Ron. "I believe that is a checkmate, Mr. Breazley."

Harry stared at the board in amazement. How could he have missed that move? Ron stared at Swan in disbelief as he left the room.

"I can't believe him," Ron started. "He just wants to make my stay here miserable."

"I can't believe I just won," Harry said, still staring at the board shaking his head. Then he frowned at Ron. "You knew that I could have checkmated you, didn't you? Do you really think I'm that bad?"

"Yes," Ron replied shortly. "You know what Harry, I'm going to explore that tunnel tonight, with or without you. Anything to annoy Swan. Are you in?"

Harry sighed. "Fine, but you'll have to walk slowly so that I can keep up. My legs are about as strong as a bowl of pudding."

Harry and Ron heard a thump. Both of them stood up and looked around, but the room was empty. Immediately, Harry thought that there might be someone there with an Invisibility Cloak, but there was no way to tell.

There was another thud, and they heard a familiar voice.

"Teddy, why did you stop?" It was Terry, but his voice was very muffled, and it sounded frantic.

"I hit my head," Teddy replied. "I think we found the end of the passageway."

"Terry?" Harry called out. "Teddy? Where are you guys?"

"Harry?"

"What's going on?"

"Ron?"

"Terry?"

"We're under the room," Teddy called out. "But we don't know where."

"Hurry up, hurry up, I want to get out of here!"

"Terry's claustrophobic, can you get a move on?"

"Try hitting the ceiling again," Harry said loudly. "We'll try to find you that way."

Teddy, or Terry, began pounding on the floor. The chess table began to run back and forth, trying to find the sound. An ottoman also joined the hunt, sniffing as it went, which confused Harry because he didn't think it had a nose. A second table, situated near the window, began to jump up and down frantically. Harry and Ron rushed over and pulled up the carpet under the table. A trap door was concealed underneath. One of the boys, either Terry or Teddy, pounded against the door again, but with the table out of the way the door swung open easily. Teddy climbed out first and lifted Terry, who looked hysterical, up from under the arms. They dusted themselves off before sitting down with Harry and Ron.

"What were you guys doing in there?" Ron asked.

"We misunderstood your directions," Terry, breathing heavily. "We went through the wrong door and found ourselves in a tunnel."

"I told you that we shouldn't be going through a door where you had to bend over to get through," Teddy said, and then turned to Harry and Ron. "The tunnel got smaller and smaller and then there were no more torches lining the walls. We ended up crawling into the dead end under the floor over there."

"Well I figured that the only reason you had to bend over was because you were seven feet tall!" Terry exclaimed defensively, dusting his robes off. The dust rose up in the air, making him sneeze and kick out his legs, hitting the ottoman, which let out a yelp. How it yelped Harry would never know since it didn't have a mouth either.

"Did that tunnel lead anywhere else?" Harry asked.

"No," Teddy replied. "There was only one way to go. My shoulders were scrapping against the walls the whole time: if there were any other passageways, I'd have felt them.

"Do either of you play chess?" Ron asked. "I'd love to take you on."

Teddy agreed to this, and they were soon having their own little chess competition. Harry was extremely proud when he beat Terry. He had a feeling that he had won because he used the white set and because Terry was extremely intimidated by the black pieces, especially when one of his bishops sat right down on the board and refused to move.

Ron, of course, came out victorious, and at around nine, after becoming sick of losing, Terry went to bed, and Teddy soon followed.

"When should we go?" Ron asked quietly, lowering his voice, which was pointless as no one else was in the room.

"Well, we have all night," Harry replied. "What if we went at around ten? Then it wouldn't be too suspicious if we got caught."

"Should we use the Invisibility Cloak?" Ron asked.

"No, there's no point. We would have to at Hogwarts because we aren't supposed to be up, but here we have no curfew. But it might be a good idea if we ever want to be up at around midnight. That might look a little weird."

They decided to return to their room for a while so that Harry could check to see whether or not Hedwig was back. But as they stepped onto the second floor, they were sucked into a conversation with the talkative suit of armor.

"Ah, fresh blood in the manor," he said happily. "I do love it when the Quidditch program starts. There are so many cheery people to talk to. How are you enjoying the manor, lads?"

"It's alright," Ron replied shortly, checking his watch.

"Only alright?" the armor asked, sounding surprised. "The manor is full of amazing things. There are little passageways hidden all over, and the furniture is to die for, if I do say so myself." He let out a booming laugh that made passersby stop and stare. Harry sighed and sat down on the stairs. "You know lads," the armor said in a quiet voice, leaning forward slightly, "if you really want a good time then there is one passageway I might suggest." At this, both boys looked at the suit intensely. "There's a great dusty book in the library," he began. "It's green and has a dreadfully long title. That is the most important passageway in the castle. It connects you to almost every room in the house."

Ron sighed. "We found that one. We were actually going to explore it soon."

"Ah, excellent!" the armor explained. "And if I do recall, the names of the rooms are scratched into the walls, so you will know exactly where you are going. Have fun boys. And if you ever need a guide of the castle, my name is Sir Alloy of Anvil." With that he stood up into his normal position and was quiet.

"So this thing leads everywhere?" Ron whispered.

"That's what he said," Harry replied. "That's probably the first good thing that's happened here. But how does he think he could be a tour guide for us?"

"Ron? Harry?" They turned to see Amy Zampowick rushing up the stairs with an armful of books. Wisps of hair were falling into her eyes. At that moment, she reminded Harry of an older version of Hermione.

"What is it?" Ron asked impatiently.

"I was wondering if you would like to read through a few of these books with me," she said rather breathlessly. "Either of you," she added quickly. "Ron, you know loads of Quidditch information and I'd love to hear about it. And Harry, I hear you're an excellent Seeker." She turned back to Ron. "I'm sure we'd all learn a lot."

"You know, I'd really love to," Ron said unconvincingly, "But Harry here doesn't feel to well and we're taking him to see Terry because he's a doctor." Ron looked quickly at Harry.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, forcing himself to cough. Then he leaned on Ron. "I feel dizzy."

"You see? Terry will probably tell him to stay in bed all night," Ron said to Amy, starting to back up towards their room.

"What about you then?" Amy asked. "If Harry's sick you might want to stay out of his way."

"I think Ron should come with me," Harry said hastily. "He has to help me send a letter to my family."

"Your family?" Amy asked skeptically. "No offense, but I heard that you don't really have that much family."

"My godfather," Harry said rather bitterly. "I want to send him a letter but I can't see that well so I think Ron should write it, so that it will be legible."

"But Swan said we aren't to send letters..."

"You're not going to tell on us are you?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. Amy smiled.

"Of course not! See you tomorrow," Amy said brightly as she walked down the hall.

Ron sighed.

"She's been following me around all week," he complained as they climbed the staircase to the third floor. "She keeps offering to help me clean or bone up on my Quidditch knowledge or give me pointers to make the house-elves more obedient. She's like Hermione, but worse."

"Shouldn't you be flattered?" Harry asked.

"I was for the first few minutes," Ron replied. "But after so many hours of being pestered I find it more a burden then a blessing."

When they reached their room, Pigwidgeon began twittering wildly. Not wanting to wake Terry, Harry pulled him out of his cage and tossed him to Ron, who proceeded to shove the small owl into his pocket. Hedwig's cage was still empty. Harry flopped onto his bed and checked his watch. It was now nine-thirty.

"Should we leave at around ten?" He asked.

"Yes, but I think we should think of an excuse for why we are awake in case we run into Swan or someone like that," Ron said thoughtfully. "Plus, you never know how many people Amy has told that you're sick by now. It would look strange to see a sick boy running around through the walls."

Harry paused.

"Did Deborah ever give you a recipe for a type of drink?" he asked.

"Yes, she did," Ron replied. "But I didn't serve it. Too strong if you ask me. Why?"

Terry gave a grunt from his bed. Harry stared. Was he awake? Did he hear anything?

"Because you can say that you took me to the kitchen to make me a drink to settle my stomach," Harry whispered. "Tell them that you were the only one who knew the recipe."

The time ticked away slowly. Ron began reading one of Harry's library books while Harry stared out the window, watching for Hedwig. The night sky was full of stars, but there was no sign of his snowy owl. Whenever Hedwig took a long time to deliver a message to Sirius, it always worried him. He tried to shake away the thought that his letter may have been intercepted and that Sirius was in trouble, but it always seemed to edge its way into his mind.

"Come on, Harry, it's ten o'clock," Ron said suddenly. "Put on your sick face." He pulled Pig out of his pocket and put him back into the cage. Pig started going crazy, twittering and fluttering around, making horrible noises. Terry rolled over in his bed, groaning slightly.

"Quiet, you stupid bird," Ron hissed. He clenched his fist around Pigwidgeon, opened the window and threw him out into the night. "He'll be fine, he loves flying."

Ron and Harry opened the door cautiously, and shut it quickly when they saw Ogley and Braceb walking down the hall, drinking out of their thermoses.

"You know, if they wanted something to drink they could ask one of the staff," Ron said bitterly. "They are acting like Moody. I don't think anyone wants to poison them here."

Alastor Moody was their fourth year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was an ex-Auror, a type of wizard police, who was known to drink only from a hip flask because he thought the world was out to get him. However, during the time that Harry and Ron had him for a teacher, it was really Barty Crouch, one of Voldemort's most loyal supporters, who had to drink the potion in the hip flask to keep Moody's image.

When Harry and Ron were sure that the two were gone, they opened the door and tiptoed into the hall. They were just at the bottom of the first staircase when a voice came up behind them.

"Going for some midnight exploring, are we boys?"

Harry and Ron both jumped, but were very relieve to see that it was only Sir Alloy.

"Yes, Sir Clanks-a-Lot we are, and we'd appreciate it if you didn't go telling the entire manor," Ron said sharply.

"Sir Clanks-a-Lot," he mused. "An intriguing name."

Ron shook his head and they continued toward the library. The manor seemed extremely large now that there were no people in the halls. Most of the lights were extremely dim so they had a hard time finding their way around. Harry stubbed his toe on a decorative pot, which proceeded to hop after him, trying to jump on his feet.

"You know, I'm getting extremely tired of all this living furniture," Harry grumbled as he lifted the lid off the pot. It stopped moving.

"Valdertroth was a little crazy when he made this place," Ron said. "It makes sense that he would want crazy furniture as well."

They continued along the halls until they reached the library. Ron kept watch over the entrance while Harry moved toward the great wooden book. His heart began to pound as he tugged as hard as he could. The book fell off the shelf and Harry was knocked off his feet. Ron helped him up as the door creaked open. Harry shoved the book back into place and led the way into the dark passageway. Each torch they passed lit up and extinguished when they were about five feet away.

At first, Harry thought that the suit of armor must have been lying. They had been walking for at least five minutes and had found nothing. The narrow stone tunnel seemed to go on and on. Harry sighed. Suddenly, Ron tackled him from behind.

"What was that for?" Harry asked angrily, but Ron was pale and wide-eyed. "What's wrong?" Harry didn't see anything wrong with the tunnel. They were lying on the floor with the stone walls all around them.

Harry squirmed and tried to stand up, but Ron held him down.

"What is you problem?" Harry hissed. Ron held his finger to his mouth and pointed upwards. Harry looked up. There was light streaming through the wall above them. Harry got onto his knees and looked up, but threw himself back onto the floor. There was a rectangular gap in the wall at about the same height as his bellybutton and reaching almost to the top of the tunnel. The gap looked into the sitting room, where a very puzzled witch was staring at them.

"Can she see us?" he whispered. Ron crawled to his knees and peered over the gap. He stood up and waved his arms. The witch merely looked at the wall with the same puzzled expression.

"I don't think so," he whispered back. "I don't remember a big gap in the wall like this."

Harry stood up and they both looked through the opening at the witch, who was now yawning and standing up. When she left the room, Ron tried to put his hand through the opening but found that there was an invisible wall blocking him. It was like they were staring through a window of very, very clean glass. He began tapping it, trying to see if there was a hole anywhere.

Harry looked around. As Sir Alloy had said, the words 'sitting room' were scratched into the wall under the window, but there was something else that caught his eye. A lever was next to the words. Harry pushed the lever and Ron's hand fell through the window.

Ron looked down at Harry curiously, and then pulled himself through the window.

"Harry, it was a picture!" Ron exclaimed. "The entrance was behind a picture and when you pulled the lever the picture moved to the side. There must be a charm on the backside of the frame that makes it invisible or something."

"So the whole time that we were playing chess, someone could have been watching us?" Harry asked from inside the tunnel. "That's not a very comforting thought."

"I guess we'll just have to watch ourselves around anything that could be and entrance to a passageway," Ron said as he climbed back through the hole and pulled the lever so that the picture covered the hole again. Harry looked at him skeptically. In a house like this, pretty much everything could be a hidden entrance.

The boys continued to explore through the castle. There were a few spots that branched off into different tunnels and Ron and Harry had to backtrack to explore everything. The manor turned out to be extremely large, much larger than Harry imagined. A lot of windows opened up into hallways, but a few opened to large rooms. There were at least two large marble bathrooms with bathtubs the size of large hot tubs. Unfortunately, they were shaped the same as the ones in their bedrooms, standing on golden talons. These were also bewitched with the Pet-Soul Charm, except that these were more like pit bulls than terriers and Ron was soon being chased around the bathroom by snarling bathtubs. They also came across many large dining halls made for the guests, which Harry protested to since it was so much larger and nicer than the camp's dining hall ("Why do we get big picnic benches and they get tables?"). There was the manor's kitchen, another library, the supplies storage room, Swan's office, the coaches' office, an exercise room, a room which looked to Harry like it was a room used to repair broomsticks and supplies, and the office of Mr. Chilesworth. Not only this but there were quite a few game rooms, with everything from ordinary pool tables to some wizarding games that even Ron had never seen.

After they had traveled through a tunnel that ended with a small stone staircase leading to the bedrooms, Harry and Ron decided that they had seen enough and should be heading back. However, they had no idea where they were going. A light was shining up ahead, and Harry walked up to it, checking to see if it was a way out. He was shocked to find himself staring into a smaller sitting room. The words carved into the wall read coaches' lounge. Swan was sitting alone, staring into the fire and drinking from a bottle of whiskey. He appeared to be rather drunk, for he was muttering to himself and flicking his wand around.

"Come on Harry," Ron whispered. "He's bad enough when he's sober, I wouldn't want to cross him when he's drunk." Ron led Harry to an opening a few meters in the opposite direction that led to a hallway. "Let's get out of this passageway. I'm sick of traveling through the walls; I have no clue where we are. We'd have a better chance of finding our room if we were actually in the manor."

After pulling the lever on the wall, they climbed out, Ron first, then Harry. Harry tried to follow Ron as he walked down the hall, but fell to the ground with a crash that echoed off the walls. A slab of wood with two crossed swords had been covering the exit they had just used. One of the swords had become caught on Harry's robes.

"What's going on out there?" they heard Swan yell from his chamber. "Identify yourself this instant."

"Hurry!" Ron hissed as he pulled Harry up. They jumped up and rushed down the hall. There was barely any light in the manor, so Harry and Ron quickly found themselves lost. They rushed silently along, listening to Swan's footsteps behind them. They turned down a narrow hallway and stopped. They couldn't hear Swan anymore.

"I think we're alright," Ron said breathlessly. "Do you know where we are?"

"Breazley, what are you doing?"

Harry and Ron both jumped and spun around to find Swan directly behind them. His pale eyes were glowing brightly in the darkness, and one of his eyebrows was twitching with rage. He loomed over the boys, and Harry could smell the whiskey in his breath.

"We were, we were going to the kitchen," Ron stammered. "Harry, he's, he's not feeling too well so Deborah, she gave me a recipe earlier, and I was going to make it for him but we got lost..."

"Is that so?" Swan's voice was cold. "Well allow me to escort you to the kitchen." He held both boys by the necks of their robes and pushed them through the halls, which was not a very fun experience. Swam, though very thin, was surprisingly strong, and was actually carrying them, their toes scraping the floor. And both will tell you, it isn't fun to be carried by a drunk man who was swaying back and forth. When they arrived at the kitchen, Swan watched over Ron as he began mixing the drink. Harry stood in silence, trying not to make too much noise breathing. Swan was staring down at Ron as if he were about to attack him. When Ron was finished, he poured the mixture into a cup and held it out for Harry. Apprehensively, Harry held the cup to his lips and drank.

As Ron had said, it was very strong. His throat was burning and he tried not to gag on the liquid.

"Quit your bellyaching," Swan snapped at Harry. "That's the way good medicine is. It's not supposed to taste good. Now both of you get to your room."

Harry and Ron climbed the stairs quickly. When they reached their room, both collapsed on their beds.

"We were lucky," Ron said finally. "I was sure Swan would have had our index fingers in a jar or something. He's been crabby all week. I just hope he isn't like that all summer."

"Do you think there's a passageway in our room?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Ron replied. "But if there is I wouldn't worry about it right now. Why would someone want to watch us sleep? Goodnight Harry."

Harry stared at the numerous framed pictures on the walls suspiciously. Someone could be watching them right now from behind one. Shaking his head, Harry turned and looked at the empty owl cages on the dresser under the window. Hedwig still hadn't returned.

Birds outside began to caw as a clock chimed midnight. Harry began to think about the next week. The first cut would be on Friday and Kitimer hadn't even let them fly yet. His thoughts began to drift to Amy Zampowick, sitting alone in her room reading book after book. As he lay in his bed he almost wished Ron hadn't said no to her on the stairs. He closed his eyes and began picturing the first cut, and all of the people who would have to leave then and there, not sure whether or not he wanted to be one of them.