Harry Potter and The Druid's Call

Harry Potter and the Druid's Call

Chapter two

The Visit

Harry awoke to fierce scratching and screeching. Harry quickly pushed on his glasses and grabbed his wand, before being greeted with the strangest sight he had ever seen. Hedwig was attacking a large falcon, which was calmly sitting on Harry's desk. Hedwig's scratching and nipping didn't seem to have any effect on the sharp eyed at all. Harry quickly moved to quiet his crazed owl before she made Uncle Vernon wake up. Hedwig jerked wildly in his grasp, and Harry struggled to hold her without hurting her and closing her beak shut. Hedwig quieted down once she was inside her cage, but Harry stuffed a couple of owl treats down her beak anyway, as she still stared at the foreign bird hotly.

The falcon was very unusual indeed. It had a strange black crest running along it's white head. It's black wings had jagged white lines across it. The bird's sharp curving beak looked deadly, as it glinted in the soft dawn sunlight streaming through the window. It's eyes were a deep golden brown, that Harry could have sworn he had seen before. Those strange eyes stared at Harry as if it was judging whether or not he was chicken ready for cooking. Suddenly, it spread it's wings and raised it's odd crest, and Harry noticed a small piece of paper lying before it's talons. Before Harry could even blink the odd bird had taken off and was soaring majestically into the rising sun. The note fluttered up into the air and landed lightly in Harry's open palm, along with a black feather with a lightning bolt shaped white line across it. The feather was a quill, which it shouldn't have been if it had just fallen off. Harry looked at the small scrap of parchment. It was short and no more enlightening than the strange falcon had been.

The Time Has Come. We Wait.

Harry thought briefly that the note might have been from Voldemort, but dismissed it almost immediately. It wasn't his style. He wasn't arrogant enough to warn his enemy of an attack, at least not yet, and it just didn't feel right.

                        ****

Harry's mind was trained on the odd note throughout the majority of his usual morning interaction with the Dursleys, which was why Dudley was able the greedily snatch each and every article of food on his breakfast plate, which was why Uncle Vernon accused him of being and ungrateful, greedy, good-for-nothing, maggot. Harry zoned out during the tirade. It helped him not to remind his uncle that his ungrateful, greedy, good-for-nothing, maggot of a nephew was currently helping to complete his wine cellar, and for free no less. His glazed eyes and his blank expression had caused violent exclamations from Aunt Petunia about narcotics and how maybe they really should send Harry to the center for incurably criminal boys. All of this was why Harry was angrily jamming staples into the carpet in Uncle Vernon's stifling wine cellar. Nick smiled at him often enough, but the rest of the sweaty laborers stayed well clear of the scowling teen, with the strange emerald eyes.

Shirts began coming off as the sun reached it's climax, and Harry followed suit, earning a few stares and chuckles at his thin form. This only served to deepen Harry's bad mood. Most of the workers went outside to lie in the yard, and maybe catch a cooling breeze. Harry dozed on the warm grass while his fellow workers contented themselves with eating lunch, or comparing tattoos. Harry actually smiled when a cool breeze began to pick up. Nick sat next to him and chatted happily about anything, mostly about his daughter, who had just turned eleven (wink, wink). Harry never responded to anything his impromptu tutor said, but Nick didn't seem to notice or care.

Harry's contented mood was shattered into tiny indistinguishable pieces when Uncle Vernon stomped into the yard, wearing an annoyed scowl. He yanked Harry bodily off of the ground. Nick stood and puffed himself up. He had a way of leering over even the tallest of men. He met Uncle Vernon scowl for scowl and after a second Uncle Vernon averted his eyes. He dragged Harry away from Nick.

"Listen boy, as I won't repeat myself, you are going to go upstairs, and take a shower, you stink. Then I'm going to bring you a suit to wear. You are to make yourself presentable for Dudley's banquet. We are taking guests with us and I will have none of your abnormalities embarrassing me and your aunt," he ground out gruffly. The he seemed to realize that he still had a tight grip on Harry's arm, and hastily let go, leaving a dark red mark where his hand had been, "Sorry, Harry, I-," Uncle Vernon seemed to realize what he had just said, and his mouth formed a huge 'O' and his eyes widened in horror. He almost ran back into the house. Harry was equally horrified, had Uncle Vernon just apologized and called him by his first name. Harry walked into the house in a daze, and only snapped out of it when he nearly choked on the shower water that had filled his open mouth. Even then Harry was still in an odd sort of trance.

Harry was finishing up a History of Magic essay on Matthew the Maniacal, which he hastily shoved under his bed as Uncle Vernon barged in without knocking. He was holding an plain, if somewhat worn, cardboard box. Uncle Vernon eyed Harry warily, as he would a stray tomcat that could attack without warning. Harry eyed his uncle with the same wariness. Uncle Vernon seemed uncharacteristically nervous, though this could be attributed to the fact that he was in Harry's room with who-knows-what abnormal objects. Harry almost flinched when Hedwig broke the silence by giving a loud hoot, reminding Harry to send his letters later. Uncle Vernon had actually jumped at the sound.

Uncle Vernon tossed the rectangular gray box on Harry's desk, "Your aunt told me that was in the attic. It was a little to big for you, so I took it too the seamstress to have it adjusted. Try to make yourself look at least half decent for once," Uncle Vernon explained to a shocked Harry. The last bit had been said with no malice or contempt to be detected. Uncle Vernon didn't seem to notice his nephew's expression, as he continued, "Anyway, your shoes are downstairs. I think they're alligator skin," he said smiling, and with that he left.

Harry stood staring at the closed door a long, long time after his uncle had left. Hedwig gave a concerned hoot, and shocked Harry so badly that he almost fell. He grabbed his new quill and quickly added a post message to the letters addressed to Hermione and Ron, describing Uncle Vernon's odd behavior. He sent Hedwig off with all four letters. Later that night he would wish he had waited a little longer in case anything else strange happened that day.

****    

The box contained a green suit so dark that Harry thought it was black until he held it in the light, and a matching pair of pants. There was also a clean, white, smart shirt, that showed no signs of being cooped up in an attic for years. The accompanying tie was emerald green silk. Two silver dragon shaped cufflinks, and a silver ring engraved with tiny serpents completed the set. Everything fit perfectly, and Harry started to worry about how Uncle Vernon had come by his measurements. Harry thought, as he looked in the mirror, that he looked like the perfect Slytherin. Malfoy himself probably would have congratulated on his looks. Harry combed and brushed his hair into what he thought was orderly messiness. The magic mirror in room eleven of the Leaky Cauldron would have been proud.

Aunt Petunia stood open mouthed at the foot of the stairs. The dashing young gentlemen who had just descended the stairs could not have been her wastrel nephew, yet it was, and Aunt Petunia's shock quickly changed to worry and anger. What if Harry Potter, with his deep emerald eyes, and his mysterious flair, outshone her precious Dudley. This simply wouldn't do.

Harry watched amusedly as his aunt's open mouth shock twisted to rage. She stalked off, presumably to find Uncle Vernon, how anyone could stalk in the dress she was wearing was beyond Harry. Harry's shoes were in the living room. Dudley was already there, his beady little eyes focused, unwaveringly, on the Food Network. He muted the television, and Harry froze, with a shoe halfway on, when snatches of an argument floated into the room from the kitchen.

"Vernon he can't come!" Aunt Petunia's high whine said.

"Well, we can't leave him here, who knows what'll be left of the house when we get back?" It was a comfort to hear Uncle Vernon's gruff voice to say something bad about Harry again.

"But look at him! None of the young women at the banquet will even look at my Duddykins if the boy goes looking like that! We could take him to Mrs. Figg's house, I'm sure she'll take him," Dudley stared at Harry, who returned the frosty glare with his cheekiest grin, which almost turned into outright laughter when he noticed what Dudley was wearing. His sky blue suit was obviously too small, despite Dudley's diet. Several of the buttons seemed to be quivering with the struggle to hold his jacket closed. His blonde hair was plastered to his scalp, with what had to be gallons of hair gel.

His eyes narrowed as he looked Harry up and down. He took his time at coming to a conclusion, as he was still appraising Harry when Uncle Vernon made his gruff reply some few minutes later, "None sense, you know that she'll never take Harry on such short notice, besides that wouldn't be normal. It's about time he started to dress decently anyway," Harry almost snorted at this, how was he supposed to dress decently when all he got was oversized hand me downs, "and I wouldn't worry about Dudley. He's got the old Dursley charm, the girls won't be able to keep there hands off of him," Dudley looked very smug at this, and Harry really did snort.

A blaring car horn sounded from the lane, and Dudley turned the television off, and bellowed a loud 'They're heeere." Harry winced as this was bellowed right in his ear. Dudley struggled, and finally lifted himself from the couch, before waddling as fast as he could to the front door. Even so he was still the last one to the door.

A white, stretch, limousine was parked in the lane. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon went to Aunt Petunia's car.

"What are you doing Mum? Harry's going too, and there is no way that he's riding with us," Aunt Petunia gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Just put up with it for tonight. Boy," she directed at Harry, "if I hear that you've put one toe out of line you won't eat for until you get back to that ruddy school of yours!" Aunt Petunia's threat wasn't all that threatening as he was practically being starved anyway. Harry's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't had food of any sort at all that day. Suddenly he was quite looking forward to the banquet.

                        ****

There were seven people already in the limousine when Harry and Dudley got in, only one of whom Harry recognized. Piers Polkiss sat at the front of the limousine, right next to the tinted window that hid the driver. Seated next to him was a surprisingly plain brunette girl, surprising because Harry had doubted that any female who looked even half decent would ever go near rat faced Piers Polkiss. He looked even more rat-like the drab close-fitting brown suit. His date was wearing a blue dress as plain as it's owner. Harry didn't recognize the other five people seated in various people around the limousine interior. A beak nosed strawberry-blonde girl sat next to the plain girl in a sparkly silver dress. On her left was one of Dudley's male friends that Harry didn't know. His face was all planes and angle. He wore a stony expression as he gazed back and forth from Dudley to Harry. His hair looked exactly like Lupin's without the flecks of gray. On his other side sat a person who could only be the first's twin brother. They had the same angular face and the same stringy brown hair. They had completely different builds; however, the first was broad shouldered and short, while his brother was thin and lanky. Harry had never seen such contrasts between identical twins and it baffled him for a second. The next in line was a girl with pure blonde hair, she was pretty, but only one completely in love with her would ever call her beautiful. The final girl, seated across from all the rest, not good looking in any way. Her red hair was frazzled, and her pudgy face looked to never have lost it's baby fat. Her nose was akin to that of Winky the House-Elf. Dudley sat down next to her and smiled down at her. She didn't return the smile, as she was too busy staring at Harry, as was everyone else in the limousine. Harry, feeling self conscious, sat in the shadows at the back .

Harry shut the door, and the vehicle started off. Everyone but Harry started talking at once. Dudley asked his date something, and everyone else, including Dudley's date, said something to, or asked about Harry. Harry didn't reply to any of it and Dudley glared at him. Harry would have thought it was funny if Dudley's girlfriend hadn't been looking at him so intently.

After everyone stopped talking abruptly, Dudley calmly introduced Harry through gritted teeth. Piers nodded knowingly, and the girls peered at him even more intently than before, trying to make out his features in the darkness.

Dudley grinned maliciously, "Harry, here attends St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys," Harry doubted this statement had the effect that Dudley had hoped for. The three boys recoiled sharply, and the girls leaned forward eagerly.

"So Harry what is it like there?" Piers girlfriend asked eagerly.

"Oh, it's a blast. Me and the boys sneak out all the time to go steal cars and burn down houses. It really doesn't live up to it's name as a secure center. I haven't had a professor yet who has lasted more than a month. Half of them end up dead. There have been three headmasters since I started there," Harry grinned nastily, and Dudley glared. The boys looked impressed, even Piers who had helped Dudley beat the daylights out of Harry on several occasions.

The rest of the ride was boring for Harry. Everyone ignored Harry, but he could tell by the furtive, and suggestive glances in his direction that word would spread like wildfire that Dudley Dursley's cousin, the dashingly handsome criminal, Harry Potter was attending the banquet.

It was a relief to Harry when they finally arrived at Oak Hall, where the banquet was being held. As soon as the limousine came to a halt the couples that it had contained scattered in every direction. Harry trailed after Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and tried to ignore the appreciative looks he was drawing from Smelting students and younger alumni, and a few that were not so young. Harry could have sworn he had seen a woman as old as Aunt Petunia wink at him.

Oak Hall was huge. The outside was styled after ancient Rome. The tall white columns rose high in the air. The larger that life marble statues, were usually clad in no more than a few leaves and vines. The Entrance Hall was just as grand. The floor was a mosaic of colors and designs. The high arched ceiling had Michealangelo like paintings across it's expanse. It was packed with people, all jostling to get through a large arced doorway, that was made to appear small by the thriving mass of people.

After a while of inching forward at a slow pace he noticed that a gaggle of girls was behind him. There were only about a half dozen of them. They giggled when he turned around to look at them and Harry smiled his most winning smile. They giggled even more, and several blushed crimson. When he turned back around Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were nowhere in sight. Harry scowled, Dudley wouldn't hesitate to leave Harry stranded, with no idea of how to get home.

Harry finally made it inside the Dining Hall. It was much bigger than the Entrance Hall, and also much plainer. The floor was simple white marble, and the ceiling wasn't painted. A small stage was erected at the end of the hall, with a simple wooden podium. Several hundred round table, covered with simple white table clothes, and were topped with plain plates and silverware. Unlit candles also decorated the tables. He saw ,with a low moan, that a space was cleared for dancing. Harry noticed that the alumni filed through a door off to the far right of the Hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would be in there, and Harry was sorely tempted to follow, but he doubted if he would be welcomed, at least by the male alumni, and there appeared to be more boys than girls attending.

Harry chose a table as far away from the stage as possible, and gazed around uninterestedly. The small gaggle of girls had grown. There were now almost twenty girls vying for positions at the table nearest Harry. None of them had come to sit with Harry, which was rather annoying, some of them were rather pretty.

A tall balding man, whom Harry assumed was the Headmaster of Smeltings, took the podium, "Ahem, could everyone please settle down, it's time to begin," Everyone gradually drifted to their seats, and the girls not fortunate enough to get at the table closest to Harry had settled for the next best thing. Harry ignored the man on the stage, and put his feet up in another chair and laid his head back to doze. That is until someone tapped him one the shoulder, and a very familiar voice asked if he could sit down.