HARRY POTTER found himself stranded upon this dreadful island. So stricken was he without food, water, or the implements of a wizard. He had never expected the punishment to be so severe for a minor wizardry infraction. But there was no time to think about the past. No, he must put all that behind him. Doing things without the aid of precious wizardry was definitely a daunting task, but Harry was sure it could be handled if some ingenuity and thought was applied in the right places. But for now...he had to get off this beach; a storm was coming.
Harry looked up to the overcast sky. It was a milky metallic grey with a splash of blue here and there where the sky managed to get through. He dug his toes into the white sand as the wind ruffled his perpetually disheveled. He blinked rapidly against the sun as its rays popped out for a brief second in one of the blue pools in the clouds. He surveyed the island and realized that the movies he'd seen probably yielded no useful information on how to get off an island. Harry couldn't decide if his first priority was shelter or food. The rumbling in the pit of stomach suggested the latter, but the cold stormy air that blew over his body screamed the former. Harry turned to the surf and something caught his eye. It was a gray cylinder and with every wave it was pushed further ashore then dragged back out and pushed forth again; like a watery yo-yo. Harry ran to it and picked it up. It was a tent. A note was attached. Harry removed the note from its waterproof package and unfolded it. Dumbledore's script was sprawled across it.
I'm not a total ass, here's something to "keep out the weather".
Oh Drat! It's not waterproof, too bad eh? Better than nothing, so count your blessings Mr. Potter. Enjoy! See you in a year.
Yours, Dumbledore
Harry scratched his head and tossed the note into the ocean along with a flow of unfavorable words directed at his vengeful headmaster. Harry took the tent ashore and found a suitable place to set up. He noticed the instructions were removed, but a parts list remained. Luckily, all the parts were included. Not a total ass indeed. Harry had shelter, not set up shelter, but shelter. He left the tent in a tree and sought food somewhere on the vast island.
Harry looked down at the pile of red berries in his hand. He brought them to his nose and took a long, investigating whiff. They berries smelled earthy and oddly dangerous. Harry tossed them into the sand. (Harry wondered of Dumbledore would also send a fishing pole and a food market.) Harry figured the stories of succulent wild boars roaming about the Island to be nothing more than a myth. But fish! They were not myths. Fish existed. Harry ran toward the beach and stopped short of the water. He had to contemplate what to catch it with.
Harry removed his shirt and with the aid of sticks, rigged a net. Harry held his shirt taut between the sticks and waded 20 or so yards off shore. With one swift move, he plunged both sticks into the sand beneath the surf. The sticks immediately fell in toward one another, formed a triangle briefly, and then began to float away. Harry grabbed the failed net and immediately went to work conceiving other ways to make it work. A thunderclap rumbled nearby and he ran back toward the beach for his tent. Coconuts were good enough.
Setting up a tent without instructions is very hard for a dolt, but not for the ingenious Mr. Potter. He had it set up, incorrectly, in ten minutes. The rain-fly wasn't tied on in the intended manner for Harry could not figure it out. He wasn't sure about not being a dolt. The ties from the tent bag worked fine as makeshift fasteners and rocks served as weights. But the truly frightening thing was the three metal rings left over after the tent was supposedly set up. Maybe they were in case a young couple was camping and the man decided to propose but forgot the real rock. Or perhaps they were used for rousing late-night games of ring toss. It didn't matter, Harry needed his coconuts. Food! Precious food! Shelter? Why it's been conquered, meal time, baby!
A few coconuts littered the ground around his tent. As he was gathering a massive cloud gave up the losing battle against the rain it held within and let its payload go in what seemed like an instant. Harry tossed his coconuts in the tent, then dove in right behind them, seconds before the deluge began.
Harry shivered beneath his wet shirt. He rubbed his hands together while rocking back and forth in an effort to keep warm. The storm pulled on the tent, at times Harry thought it listed a good 20 degrees. After an hour the storm died down and Harry lay down. He rolled onto his side and something long and slender in Harry's pocket dug into his leg. He reached in and removed the cumbersome object. It was butane lighter and it was half-full. Harry called it half empty; a victim of his stricken position. Harry decided that after the storm he should put some palm leaves and sticks on the beach to dry. He would have to make sure they were high enough to avoid being stolen by the tide. Once they were dry, a signal/cooking/camp fire would be made.
For hours the stormed continued to rage and Harry fell deeper toward sleep until finally he was drifting in an abyss toward a mysterious blonde haired girl with radiant blue eyes. She smiled warmly and beckoned him with her index finger. Her long white dress blew up around her legs like Marylyn Monroe's. Then, here perfect lips parted and she began to speak. But before Harry could hear her voice, she melted amid a thunderclap. Harry jerked awake in anger and confusion over the beautiful girl of his dreams. He had never seen her before and would probably never see her again. Thunder sucks.
The storm was beginning to wane, slowly, but definitely a gradual progression toward clear skies. When the rain stopped Harry peered outside and saw the storm actually helped him; the wind tore branches from the trees and scattered them about the ground. He collected as many palm braches as he could carry then toted them from the lush vegetated area where his tent was, to the beach. He put them as far up on the beach as he could and waited for the sun to work its magic.