Harry Potter and the Quidditch Island

Golden Snidgets

After the past night's excitement, Harry felt like another day off. He had wasted his vacation worrying, which hadn't been restful at all. But camp must go on, which is why Harry and Terry were found trudging down to the cafeteria Monday morning, looking tired but happy. Now that the first cut was over with, there wasn't anything to worry about for at least another two weeks. The feeling of relief was very apparent in the cafeteria, which was louder than Harry ever remembered it. Ron, sitting next to Teddy, was not confined to the basement in his spare time anymore. He was sitting at Harry's usual table, but was much more awake than he had been in the previous weeks and it looked like was just starting to get used to the long hours and tiring work.

Looking around and counting heads, Harry realized that of the original thirty students, seven were missing. Of the people missing were the albino boy that he had seen at the exhibition games, and to his disappointment, Chuck Russell, the Hawaiian boy who had been Keeper on his team. Otherwise, he didn't know the other people who were gone.

"Hi," Ron greeted them as they sat down.

"Good to see you awake," Harry said with a grin. It was a change from his usual lifeless morning self. Ron shrugged and popped some pancake into his mouth.

"Well it's best to get an early start, what, with all the work I have to do today," he said. "I'm going to be spending all of my spare time today trying to fix up that floor. I swear Harry, if they keep pulling pranks on you they're going to kill me!"

Harry laughed. It was good to have Ron back.

"Morning lads," Teddy said with broad smile. "It's good to have to first cut over with isn't it? I wonder what they'll have us doing now."

"You're getting split up," Ron said as he chewed a piece of bacon. Harry, Terry and Teddy all stared at Ron and waited for him to finish. Ron looked at them, swallowed, and continued. "As I was saying, you're getting split up. Divided into group based on your positions. It's going to be tough work," he said seriously. "They only started off by picking thirty people in the entire country, and I doubt there's going to be more than one sub per position on the final team, if that. They might not think that there is more than one person per group that is good enough to play at the end."

"So how many people are trying out for Seeker?" Harry asked.

"Including you, three," Ron replied.

"Three?" Harry exclaimed. "Only three? So my chances must be pretty good then, right?"

"Well, you'd think that," Ron answered thoughtfully. "But I think that there must be a reason for them only picking a small group to try out. I mean, personally, if I were looking for the future professional Quidditch players to be on my team, I think I'd probably have brought a lot more than thirty people out here. But Swan has his reasons, and if there's one thing I've learned about him it's that his attention to detail is a force to be reckoned with. I think that's why he hired six coaches. And if there are only a few people to each coach then the coaches will have an easier time perfecting their students' skills."

"Do you know who my coach will be?" Harry wanted to know.

Ron paused. "I think...I think you're with Coach Jiggs. Seemed like a pretty OK guy."

Just as Ron finished saying that, Swan walked into the room with Wolverwick and Kitimer at his sides. The room hushed immediately when Swan cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, congratulations on making the first cut." Swan didn't sound like he meant it. "But don't think that the worst part is over, there is still a lot to do. You are now to be separated from each other for the training sessions. You will be spending your working days with the other people who are playing your position, perfecting your skills and knowledge of the game. Next Saturday will be the last day before the second cut. At that time, you will all congregate onto the pitch and each group will perform a number of drills in front of the coaches throughout the course of the day. In half an hour, I want you all to be at the following positions: Chasers are to meet on the docks in front of the manor. Beaters are to meet at the pitch. Keepers, you are to meet your coach at the back of the manor, as he will be taking you to your practice field. Finally, Seekers are to meet in the Eleanor Beaglesworth room off the library. Throughout the next two weeks, both Coach Kitimer and Coach Wolverwick will be dropping in on your sessions to give a few pointers. That is all."

As Swan left, Ron stood up and straightened his robes.

"Leaving already?" Teddy asked.

"I have to," Ron muttered, nervously glancing over at Amy's table. "You know it took me thirty minutes to shake her last night?" He sighed. "Girls."

Harry laughed as Ron rushed out. In a few minutes, people began filing out. Terry and Teddy both left, leaving Harry alone at the table to finish his breakfast. Worrying the other day had taken a lot of energy from and he was surprisingly hungry.

"Well hey there Potter." Harry looked up from his breakfast to see Cory standing in front of him, a smile plastered on his face. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead," Harry replied, not taking his eyes off of Cory. He was trying to sound normal but he couldn't completely hide the fact that he didn't want Cory to be there.

"So, close shave last night," Cory said in a falsely casual tone. "Right after that nasty fall on the pitch. Really makes you think, doesn't it."

Harry said nothing, but continued to stare at him.

"You really like to be under the spot light, don't you Potter?" Cory continued. "But falling out of your seat and knocking over furniture isn't going to make up for bad performances."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, trying to keep his anger under control. "You think that I did those things on purpose?"

Cory's smile disappeared from his face. "And what if I do, Potter?" He leaned forward.

"Then you really are stupider than you look," Harry said, trying to keep his voice down. "Why would I try to kill myself?"

Cory leaned forward again so that they were almost touching noses. "You tell me. Just because you're Swan's favorite little camper right now doesn't mean that's going to hide your complete lack of talent to him. Why don't you just get out of the way and let the big boys with the real talent play."

Harry tried to reply but couldn't. He was completely speechless with anger. Cory sneered at him and opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off.

"Hey! Cory!" Hawk called to him from the other end of the room. "We should be going now."

Cory didn't reply. He kept staring at Harry as if he was about to jump across the table and sock him.

"Cory!" Hawk's voice was firm this time, and his face showed no hint of his usual smile. "Let's GO."

Cory gave Harry one last scowl before getting up and heading out with his friends. Hawk continued to look at him with narrowed eyes as they left. Harry stared at the door for a few minutes, trying to regain his composure. Why did Cory hate him so much? And what kind of idiot would try to kill himself to get attention? And where did he get off thinking that Swan liked Harry better than the rest of them? So far, Swan had treated Harry worse than any of the campers there, with the exception of Ron.

Looking around, Harry realized that the cafeteria was almost empty. He stood up and headed towards the library, still unable to concentrate on anything but how much he hated Cory. He was just another rich boy who was mad because he wasn't getting his way. It wasn't Harry's fault if he was talented and had a scar on his head. Harry banged his fist angrily on the doorframe of the library, causing him to wince in pain and the doorframe to give an angry squeal. Harry opened the magical book that triggered the entrance to the underground room and was immediately sucked down the slide and landed with a thud on the large cushion at the bottom.

Looking up, Harry saw that two other boys were in the room, both pulling themselves up from the floor. Like Harry, they were both shorter than the most of the other people in the camp. One had well groomed mouse-brown hair and was rather slim; Harry recognized him as being the one who had beaten him to the Snitch during his second exhibition game. The other was stockier than the first; he had dark brown hair that was worn in messy spikes, and he had a small beard on his chin. While the first boy seemed a little up tight, this one was much more relaxed and had a playful look in his eyes, as if laughing at some joke that only he had heard.

"Hey guys." As Harry's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed that there was another person in the room. He wore coach's robes, but he didn't look like he could be any older than thirty. In fact, he looked almost like he could be a trainee of the camp. He wasn't much taller than Harry, and was built the same way. He had pale skin, a rather pointed nose and short black hair that was very curly. "Come in, sit down." He motioned to the four chairs that were set at the table.

Harry and the other two walked over slowly and sat down. The coach smiled.

"I'm coach Jiggs," he introduced himself, "and I'm going to be your Seeker Coach for the rest of the summer." He looked at them and grinned. "Relax guys, I'm not going to bite. I heard all about your practices with Kitimer. Trust me, he's a nice guy, he just has a tough job. But now that he's taught you to fly straight, it's my job to teach you the fancy stuff that'll get you ahead."

He clapped his hands.

"First, I think you should introduce yourselves."

The mouse-brown haired boy introduced himself as Patch Risto and, judging on the way he said his family name, he was most likely from a dignified pure-blood family. The other was Logan O'Leary, and he had quite a strong Scottish accent.

"Uh, coach Jiggs?" Logan asked after they had all spoken. "Are you going to make us run laps?"

Jiggs laughed, and to Harry's disappointment, nodded. "Yeah, you'll have to keep at it. Kitimer told me to make sure you would. If you're really serious about Quidditch you won't complain. There was a reason that he was making you work like that. But I'm not going to have you running today. How did you all do in your Care of Magical Creatures classes?"

Harry, Patch and Logan looked up at him blankly. He didn't know what the others were thinking, but Harry didn't really feel that he'd do too well on a creatures quiz. While he liked Hagrid very much, he didn't really like the creatures that Hagrid had taught them about. Harry didn't know too much about many common animals that were bound to come up, but he did know about disgusting monsters, such as giant spiders, three headed dogs, and the disgusting Blast-Ended Skrewts.

"Well, today we're going to have a little seminar about this history of the Seeker position, and a part of that is learning about the Golden Snidget, the inspiration behind the Snitch." Jiggs flicked his wand at the large red ruby in the center of the table and it created a projection of what looked like a very fat hummingbird. "This is a Snidget," Jiggs continued. With another flick of his wand, the bird began to grow so that it was about the size of a volleyball.

Now that it was larger, Harry could make out its features. Its body was extremely round and covered in short golden feathers. Its head was like a small bump at the very top of the body and at the opposite end were extremely small hook-like feet. The Snidget had a very long, thin and pointed beak, and two wings at the middle of the body. Perhaps the most amazing things about the strange creature were its eyes: they were blood red and looked like glistening jewels.

"Interesting creature, isn't it?" Jiggs said after they had had a moment to look at it. "If you'll think back to your flying lesson, can you remember Coach Kitimer telling you that to get the best results from your broom, you have to understand it? Well the best way find the Snitch is to understand the Snitch. Today I want to teach you all there is to know about the Snitch, its history and its behavior, so that you will have a better chance of catching it and winning your team a victory.

"The original Snitches weren't machines at all, the way they are now. In fact, they were small birds, Snidgets if you will. And catching them during Quidditch games was not introduced until 1269. Before that, Snidget hunting was a popular sport on its own. Thanks to this, Snidgets are extremely rare in the wild and are a protected species. But in the early 1100s, Snidgets were common in northern Europe. A Snidget's golden feathers and jewel-like eyes were very highly prized in the ancient days, but the reason that they were so hunted is simply because they were hard to catch. They were so fast that hunts often went on for days, even weeks. Large hunting groups would all set out together on brooms, some armed with wands, others with nets, and some simply tried to catch them barehanded. The witch or wizard that caught the evasive bird was awarded with a bag of gold, but the better prize was the esteem given to them by other members of the magical community. Snidgets were fast, evasive, and extremely good at hiding, so their captors had to be talented."

As Jiggs spoke, different images were being projected in front of them. The Snidget had vanished and had been replaced by a chaotic scene where many witches and wizards were mounting on broomsticks, often hitting the people around them in attempts to knock them out of competition, and setting off with crude hunting tools. As Jiggs continued, the projections changed to match what he was saying. Soon there was a detailed picture of the anatomy of the small golden bird.

"It is those qualities that allowed the bird to thrive before it became an object of sport hunting. They had no natural predators, as most creatures couldn't see them half of the time. No land animal could catch them, and their top speeds were faster than any other bird. The rotational joints in the Snidget's wings allowed for great agility and speed, among other things. Because of these skills, Snidgets developed a rather cocky manner about them. They would often be found teasing other animals in their habitats, trying to provoke them into a chase, knowing the poor creature couldn't catch them. They weren't shy at all, and as they were never in any real danger in the wild they were never afraid to be in the middle of the action. It was their cocky behavior that actually targeted them as a prime hunting animal, when one particularly foolish bird set out to provoke a famous game hunter.

"In 1269, the sport of Snidget hunting and the game of Quidditch crossed paths when the Chief of the Wizard's Council, one Barberus Bragge, offered 150 Galleons to the player that caught the Snidget during the game. The poor bird was kept on the pitch by Repelling Spells from the crowd, and all of the players abandoned the game to look for the Snidget. It was not caught, however, as a witch from the crowd, who was particularly against animal cruelty, Summoned it to her and let it free. Even though this woman was punished, many spectators agreed that the game was terrible, since the players deserted their positions to try to catch the bird and no Quidditch was actually played. From this point on a 'Hunter' was added to each team, and it was his task to catch the Snidget during the game. Whichever Hunter caught it would earn 150 points, in memory of the prize Bragge had offered. This, gentlemen, is exactly how your position came to be."

Harry listened in fascination to the lesson. Jiggs continued to lecture them on the behavior of the Snidget, as recorded by ancient zoologists as well as spectators and players of Quidditch in the thirteenth century. Harry had no idea that there was so much behind the psychology of a magical animal, and when lunch time came he ate his lunch quickly, wanting to get back to his lesson as soon as possible.

"I've never seen anyone eat spinach casserole so fast," Terry said in awe as Harry scarfed his lunch down and drained a glass of pumpkin juice in under five minutes.

The second part of their lesson dealt more with the invention of the Snitch in the fourteenth century, which was created by a very skilled metal charmer who had set to the task of creating a substitution for the Snidget, as its numbers had gotten so low that it was made a protected species. Not only was Jiggs and expert on the anatomy of both the Snitch and the Snidget, but he also knew a lot about how Seekers can use this information on the pitch. For example, Snidgets, being curious and cocky animals, are attracted to exciting things, therefore Snitches will often be found hovering around Chasers, as they are the fastest moving things on the pitch and can provide excellent hiding places.

"All right guys, I want you to remember this stuff," Jiggs was saying a few minutes before dinner. "It's important to know all of the aspects of this game. Go to the library tonight and read up on what we've talked about. We're going to be meeting in a different room tomorrow. Go to the lounge off the front hall and look for a big brown armoire with Snitches carved in the front. The room's just through there. See ya later."

Harry, Patch and Logan left for dinner in high spirits. Harry met up with Terry and Teddy as they headed for the cafeteria.

"You're lucky," Terry said glumly once he had listened to Harry's account of his day. "My coach is nothing like yours. He's very quiet, and he doesn't talk much, but he just looks at you..." Terry shuddered. "He's not a very likeable guy, and I don't think he's very fond of me."

"Who do you have?" Teddy asked, looking concerned.

"Petalbee," Terry replied.

Harry and Teddy laughed.

"How bad can someone named Petalbee be?" Harry said once he had regained himself.

Terry blushed. "You haven't met him. And to top it all off, Wolverwick and Kitimer were sitting in on our lesson most of the day, and they didn't seem to happy with what we could do."

"Well as long as you try your hardest you'll be fine," Teddy said positively as he took a big gulp of pumpkin juice. Terry shook his head, but Teddy didn't see it. "Besides, even if you don't make it, at least you'll have had a great learning experience. Not many people can say that they were candidates for the All England Quidditch Team. We all have that to be proud of."

"Try telling that to my dad," Terry muttered. Harry laughed to himself and continued to eat his dinner. He couldn't wait to tell Ron about how much better the third week of training was looking.

Unfortunately, Harry didn't have a chance to see Ron, as he was rushing around trying to keep the manor intact while at the same time trying to fix the floor in the front hall. So, Harry spent the rest of the evening finding books in the library and watching Terry and Teddy play wizards chess in the almost private sitting room that Ron had found earlier. At about ten o'clock, when Teddy had won for the seventh time in a row, Harry became bored of watching them play and decided to go to his room and read.

He walked through the front hall, where he saw Ogley and Braceb heading from the stairs in the direction of the kitchen, most likely wanting more food to fill up their massive bodies. Harry was pleased to see that the scratches and dents in the floor were repaired. Ron had done a great job: the floor looked as good as new. As he was walking down the third floor hallway towards his room, Harry bumped into Cory, who was heading in the opposite direction. To his surprise, Cory bowed out of the way.

"Sorry Potter," he said sweetly. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your beauty sleep. Got to keep fresh and pretty for that photographer."

"Thanks Cory," Harry said, smiling back. "It's lucky for him that at least one of us has a face for pictures."

Cory scowled and took a menacing step towards him, but Harry continued on his way quickly. It wasn't as if there was any truth in that, in fact, if anyone were going to have their picture taken it would be Cory, but, as Harry had suspected, Cory was extremely vain so that insult had hit him hard. Harry got to his room quickly and slammed the door.

"Stupid moron," Harry said to the door. Then, from behind him, Harry heard a thunderous roar that made him jump a foot into the air. Spinning around, he saw two giant yellow eyes staring back at him full of murderous rage. Those eyes were connected to the head of a giant eagle and the body of a grey horse. Harry was staring straight into the face of an angry Hippogriff.

Under normal circumstances, Hippogriffs are tamable creatures. Harry had learned this in his third year at Hogwarts, when Hagrid had introduced him to Buckbeak, the Hippogriff that was on the run with Harry's godfather Sirius. However, Hippogriffs hate to be insulted, and this one had obviously thought that Harry was talking to it when he came into the room.

For a moment, Harry and the Hippogriff stared at each other. Then, without warning, the monster gave a great roar and charged. Harry jumped out of the way in the nick of time as the Hippogriff rammed its head straight into the door. It tried to turn around and strike again, but its extremely hard beak had gotten lodged into the wood, giving Harry the time to jump up onto Ron's top bunk. The Hippogriff gave another roar and with a great tug its beak was unstuck. The beast shook its head, flinging pieces of wood all over the room, and then stared straight up at Harry.

The Hippogriff spread its wings, trying to fly up to his position, but the room was too small. Its wings knocked over both owl cages, and to Harry's great relief, they both opened and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon flew out of the open window, hooting hysterically. Frustrated, the Hippogriff stood on its hind legs and leaned its front two on the edge of the top bunk. It seemed to have realized that the bed was too high up to jump to, so it had to resort to snapping its beak madly and snarling at Harry, who scrambled backwards and pressed himself flat against the wall.

Frantically, Harry dug his hand into the pocket of his robes, searching for his wand, but his stomach sank when he realized that it wasn't there. It was in a drawer, a drawer that was being blocked by a raving Hippogriff. Harry could do nothing but cower back against the wall and hope for aid.

"HELP!!! SOMEONE HELP ME!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. The Hippogriff howled even louder and swung at him, tearing the edges of his robes. Harry shrank back even more and opened his mouth to shout again, but the door of his room crashed open and Harry saw Ron, staring at the scene in shock with his wand raised in the air.

"STUPEFY!" Swan had just stepped out from behind Ron. In a flash the Hippogriff's muscles seized up and it fell limply to the ground. Swan's piercing eyes turned to Harry. "What is going on, Mr. Potter!" Harry was amazed that Swan sounded angry with him.

"There's a Hippogriff in my room!" Harry exclaimed stupidly. That much was obvious. But how could Swan be mad at him? It wasn't like he had invited the monster in. "I don't know why, but it was. And it--"

"I can see for myself what it did, thank you," Swan snarled. "I will deal with the beast myself. Leave now. You, Mr. Breazley, and Mr. Whittaker will spend the night in room four seventeen on the fourth floor. Honestly, Potter, I don't understand how you get yourself into these things." He turned to the crowd that had gathered at the doorway. "And would you all please get out of my way? I have to deal with this creature now."

Immediately, the crowd parted. Harry jumped off the bed and scrambled through the doorway with Ron at his side. He was breathing hard and his heart was still racing.

"Harry! Harry, did you bow to it? That's what you're supposed to do, isn't that right Ron?" Amy had just come up along side them. At that moment, she wasn't remotely cute at all, more like a fly that Harry wanted to swat.

"It's hard to bow to something that wants to rip your head off," Harry said angrily.

"Would you buzz off?" Ron snapped at her. "Why don't you go read a book or something?"

Amy stopped where she was and gaped at him, looking extremely hurt.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" Ron asked quietly, but Harry shook his head vigorously.

"Let's go outside," he replied, trying to steady his breathing. He wanted to get out of the manor and away from the staring crowds. As they walked through the hall, a man scooped up his daughter and whisked her down a different corridor as if Harry was carrying some infectious disease.

They headed towards the staircase, where they saw coaches Jiggs and Kitimer talking rapidly in hushed voices. Kitimer nodded to Jiggs and headed down the hall in the direction of Harry's room. Jiggs turned around and looked at them.

"Where are you going, Harry?" he asked.

"Outside," Harry replied shortly. "I don't want to stay here right now."

To his surprise, instead of stopping them, Jiggs nodded understandingly.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Say, do you mind if I joined you? I've found something I think you'd like to see. And I think you might like it to, Mr. Breazley. I hear you're quite the Quidditch fan."

Ron looked at Harry skeptically, but Harry nodded to Jiggs. He liked this coach; he was more like a peer than a trainer. With that, Jiggs led them down the stairs and out the front door.

It was cool outside, and there was a cold wind blowing. The night sky was cloudy and dark, and there were small white-caps forming on the Irish Sea. Jiggs paused for a moment and looked up at the sky.

"Looks like a storms brewing," he said pointedly. "It's a good thing our lessons this week are going to be inside." With that, he said no more and led them around to the back of the manor. They walked down the cobblestone path towards the Quidditch pitch. It was eerily dark in the shadows of the enormous trees that hid the pitch. Harry heard Jiggs mutter something, and instantly his wand lit up. Ron did the same, and Harry noticed that his friend was looking up into the air around them nervously, most likely watching for owls. When they reached a point on the path about halfway to the pitch, Jiggs turned to his left. Harry reached into his pocket to light up his wand, but remembered that it was in his room. He moved closer to Ron, trying to share the wand light.

They had moved onto a narrow dirt path that had been worn down by people walking over it. Harry hadn't noticed it before, but then again, he had never looked for it. He began to wonder where the path would lead them when Jiggs spoke again.

"I was out walking this evening after dinner when I found this path. There are quite a few of them going through this forest, but even in the daylight they are hard to see so you have to be careful. Here, it's just up ahead."

They continued to walk in silence. With his eyesight weakened in the dark, Harry's hearing was sharpened almost more than he would have liked. Every sound that their small group made seemed to echo in the silence. Then, up ahead, he saw a glowing light.

Jiggs put out his arm to stop them. At first, Harry thought that it might be another person ahead of them, but realized that there was no one there. Jiggs extinguished his wand and Ron did the same. Motioning for them to be quiet, Jiggs began to head forwards towards the light.

What Harry saw amazed him. Directly in front of them was a small, crooked tree with small leaves and many thin branches. It didn't match at all with the gigantic trees that loomed all around them. In its upper branches was a nest, and inside the nest was a glowing light that illuminated the small clearing in which the tree sat. It took Harry a moment to realize that the light was coming from a group of small, golden birds.

"Snidgets!" Ron gasped in awe. Harry could see Jiggs smile in the warm light.

"That's right," he whispered happily. "I was as shocked as you are when I first found them, being as rare as they are. But I have a feeling that this tree was planted here when the manor was built. I wouldn't be surprised if the owner had brought these with him to keep the Quidditch tradition alive."

Harry couldn't speak. He just continued to stare at the birds. Though he had seen them only a few hours ago in the basement, the projection couldn't compare to the real thing. They glowed with such warmth that you couldn't help but feel happy to be in their presence. Their golden feathers looked different up close; softer and smoother, and they reflected their own light in such a way that it looked like electricity was rippling through them. Harry was amazed that anyone would have wanted to risk injuring them just for a little gold, and wondered how they would have been able to live with themselves if they had killed one.

"Do they always glow so brightly?" Ron asked. He sounded just as fascinated as Harry felt.

"No, not this brightly," Jiggs replied. "It's because there is a large group of them in one place. But they are beautiful, aren't they? It's no wonder people wanted them so badly." He looked at his watch and then back at the boys. "I've got to go back in. Make sure you're in soon because the door will be locking. Oh, and guys? I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about these. I don't want tourists coming over and disturbing them."

Harry and Ron both nodded mechanically and continued to stare at the golden birds. Perhaps it was because of the large trees, or maybe because of the magical light the birds were creating, but Harry could barely feel the cold wind anymore. The light, though it illuminated the clearing, made the forest around them look like a dark void. They didn't know how long they had sat there, transfixed by the rare magical birds, but both were rudely brought back to reality by a crash of thunder that was followed by a downpour of icy cold rain.

"We'd better head back," Ron said loudly over the rain, which was thundering on the ground. Harry nodded and the pair sprinted back to the cobblestone path. The rain was pouring even harder outside of the forest, where there were no leaves to block it out, and the two slipped and slid to the front of the manor. When they reached the front doors, Harry tugged at them, but they wouldn't budge.

"Why did they make them so heavy?" Harry yelled. Ron shrugged, though Harry could barely see that that was what he was doing, as the rain was so thick. Ron raised his wand to perform the spell that had opened them before, but the spell seemed to bounce back at him and he was knocked over onto his backside, sliding across the wet stones.

"Oh great!" he roared as he stood up and rubbed his bottom. "We're locked out!"

"Didn't Chilesworth say that they open under special occasions?"

"Yeah, but you have to ring the bell," Ron yelled back, motioning to a long cord that led up to a cast iron bell. "And Chilesworth would never open the doors for us. He only opens them for guests that show up in the middle of the night, and plus, he hates me."

Harry stared up at the manor in frustration.

"Let's try the backdoor," he called out. He and Ron ran around back but those doors were locked as well. Ron furiously began pounding on the doors, but to no avail. Harry tried to pull open the windows but doing so triggered a spell that threw him halfway across the cobblestone area.

"I can't believe it," he could hear Ron yelling near the manor. "It's freezing out here." Ron picked up a large rock and threw it at a window in frustration. Harry didn't have time to yell to stop him, but to the surprise of both of them, the rock just passed through as though there was nothing there. Harry walked over to Ron, who looked as bewildered as he did.

"Do you know what's behind that window?" Harry asked, pushing his drenched hair out of his eyes. Ron walked over and peered through the window.

"I've never seen that hall before, Harry," Ron said slowly. "And I've cleaned this place up and down..."

Gingerly, Ron pushed his hand forward. It went straight through. The boys looked at each other and then jumped forwards.

"Harry, this is the tunnel that we found in the library!"

Harry grinned broadly as he looked around. It was the same stone tunnel that they had been in before. Turning around, he saw that there was no wall blocking them from the outside. From inside the manor, it looked like there was a big hole leading out into the storm.

"Well that's a relief," Ron said. He shook his head vigorously to get the water out of it. "How about we go to bed now. I'm soaking wet and I need to get changed."

Harry nodded and they headed forward.

"Make sure that you walk quietly," he said to Ron as they splashed through the tunnel. "They'll hear us through the walls."

As they continued on, Harry was getting the feeling that they were lost in the walls of the manor, again. It was a good thing that there were no people about because the noise that they were making with their drenched robes and muddy feet was loud enough to be heard two corridors down.

"Hey Harry, what's that light up there?" Ron was pointing down a corridor that branched off from their present position. A large square of light was shining onto the stone wall.

If Harry had been a logical person, he would have told Ron to ignore it and to go a different way, as their wet shoes were making noise enough to wake the dead. But he wasn't, and his curiosity got the best of him. He and Ron edged towards the light quietly, trying not to splash too much.

"...were confirmed." Harry heard Swan's sharp voice saying. "As I suspected, Voldemort has found Harry, and after tonight I am sure that he has someone working here, inside the camp. The situation is becoming dangerous; that Hippogriff could have killed him. We need to find the culprit immediately before they make another move. In the mean time, I suggest we keep an eye on him at all times."

"Sir, he's with me all day," Jiggs was standing near the fireplace, "but I might suggest you tell Mr. Breazley to watch out for him in the after hours."

Swan's face twitched angrily. "I do not believe that it is prudent to entrust a situation of this delicacy to someone as incompetent as Mr. Breazley." Next to Harry, Ron's face reddened with anger.

"I think he's a very trust worthy person," Jiggs replied respectfully. "He's kept this manor working in tip top condition, and he hasn't had any help from the house-elves. That's a lot of work for one person and he's doing a pretty good job."

"Yeah that's right you stupid--" but Harry smacked him in the arm.

"Lets go," he said quietly, pulling Ron, who was still pink in the face with anger. "You know, I'm really getting sick of having other people control my life." They turned down another hall and found themselves at the exit leading into the library.

"Well wouldn't you rather be protected from the most terrible wizard of all time than face him alone?" Ron had calmed down, and now that it had all sunk in, he seemed to be getting rather nervous. Harry could hear a slight quiver in his voice.

"You'd think that they would at least trust me enough to tell me when something was going on by now," Harry said bitterly as they climbed out through the bookcase and marched up the stairs, dripping water and mud as they went. They didn't say another word as they went up to their new room, which was exactly the same as their original room. All of their belongings had been brought up, even the wand that Harry had left in the dresser. Terry was already asleep in his bed, and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon had both returned, though they were twitching a lot in their sleep.

As Harry lay in bed, he couldn't help but think about Voldemort and how Swan believed that there was a spy at the camp. Then Harry remembered Cory: he had been heading for the stairs from the direction of Harry's room right before the run in with the Hippogriff. Was Cory the one who had planted it there? It wouldn't be much of a surprise. But then again, there were other people on the stairs. And whoever did it could have simply run back into their rooms and avoided being seen altogether. And there was still the fact that it was a Hippogriff that had been planted there. How in the world could Cory, or anyone else for that matter, have planted one in his room without being seen?

It seemed odd to Harry that he wasn't at all scared. Maybe it was because he had faced danger before or maybe it was because he was used having people go after him, but it just didn't seem to him that there was much to worry about. He had faced danger before and he would do it again, even if Swan, and Sirius and everyone else didn't think that he could handle it. In fact, he felt angrier than he did scared. It was time that people started trusting him to take care of himself. He was almost an adult, after all; he wasn't a scared little boy anymore. But, Harry decided, he would keep his wand on hand from now on, just in case.