Chapter 1: A Day of Surprises

Harry Potter fell off his broom and hurtled towards the ground from a dizzying height. The golden snitch flittered up ahead, just out of reach of his grasping hands. He stretched, wishing that his fingers could coil just that little bit closer…If he was going to hurt himself, he wanted to do it victoriously at least! But his efforts were in vain as it suddenly stopped and he was left all alone on his downward descent. Cursing, he lowered his eyes towards the rapidly approaching ground, raising his hands to protect his face from the impact…

It seemed to be only a moment later when he awoke to find himself to be in an infirmary bed. For someone who had just survived an immense crash, he felt in much better shape than he thought he would. Flexing his muscles experimentally, all his limbs seemed to be in correct working order and nothing seemed to even be sore.

He sat up, finding himself to still be in his Quidditch robes. He swung his legs off the bed, vowing to find Madame Pomfrey and get permission to leave – he felt fine, after all – when the door swung open and a contingent of visitors arrived. Professor McGonagall was leading the pack, a stern expression on her face, and she was followed by a few familiar faces. "Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, worry clearly evident on her face. She ran to his bedside, closely followed by Ron who was looking much more collected.

Harry wondered what all the fuss was about. "Hermione, Ron, what happened? I feel fine…" Except for a few scrapes he had suffered in the match itself (you could never expect the Slytherin team to play fairly), he felt in perfect condition. "I was falling…and then nothing."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "That's all you remember? What about the part where you were about to hit the ground, Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "I must have blacked out before that point. I fell off my broom trying to reach the snitch…I saw it, above me. I reached out but it was too far away. Instead, I fell. The ground came closer and closer…I raised my arms and closed my eyes. Then, I was here. That's all. I probably hit my head when I landed or something. It's happened before, when I've fallen." Strangely however, he couldn't feel a single mark on his head that would indicate having hit it.

Hermione faced him with wide eyes. "That's because you didn't land, Harry."

Harry gulped. "I didn't?"

"No, Harry. You were about to crash…and I admit I'd turned away at this point…but you suddenly stopped. You floated there. Just above the ground. Immediately Hooch picked you up and had you brought to the infirmary here. What did you do?"

"What did I do? I did nothing!" Harry exploded. "I didn't try and do anything! I don't even remember that happening! Someone else must have done it."

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Very few people would have the power to do something like that, Harry. Stop a boy mid-flight? Without being detected by any of the hundreds of wizards and witches present at the match? It would have been an impressive feat."

Harry didn't like the way that this conversation was going…"So what do you think happened?"

The expression on the teacher's face seemed to become even darker. "We're not sure. But we think it was probably something you did. And we'd like to run some tests."

The room was silent as everyone tried to grasp what the Head of House had just said. Tests? What kind of tests?

Harry was finally the one to voice the questions that everyone had been thinking. "What do you mean, 'tests'? What good will it do anyway? It's not like whatever happened harmed me in any way."

McGonagall sighed. "I have just conversed with Dumbledore and we think it's for the best. We'd like to try and find out exactly what happened and whether or not it might happen again. It might prove a useful weapon in the war, Harry. Or, on the other hand, it might be the work of He Who Must Not Be Named himself."

Harry swore angrily, and his teacher raised her voice. "Harry! You will not use that kind of language again! This is for the best, and I'm sure you'll come to realise that in time."

The boy shook his head furiously. Why couldn't they ever leave him alone?! Everyone was always interfering with his life, always meddling. He wanted some time to himself. He shook free of Hermione's grasp and pushed past the crowd that had assembled around his bed. Madame Pomfrey's voice, ordering him to stay put, rang in his ears but he ignored the command. Instead, he swept out of the room and began to trot up the stairs, still in his rain-drenched robes. He wasn't sure where he was going exactly, but he wanted to get as far away from here as possible. He wanted to think. There was always something new going on in his life – he never got any time to himself.

Muttering darkly, he proceeded to make his way to the highest tower he could find, losing himself in the maze of passages and staircases that made up the castle. Very occasionally, he thought he could hear the voices of his friends shouting his name from far away.

"I worry about him, Ron." Hermione looked upset.

"Of course you do, 'Mione. He's our friend. I worry about him too."

"It's just…with all the pressure he's under…the whole 'saving the world' business…sometimes I wonder how he deals with it all. We're all counting on him to save us from Voldemort. He's even younger than we are. So much expectation…"

She trailed off, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the Common Room. Ron and Hermione sat alone, having spent the last few hours searching in vain for their friend. Finally they had decided to return and rest, but he was still out there, missing, and it was very late. Everyone else was in bed, but they were waiting up in the hope that they would get to speak to him again before class tomorrow.

Seeing that she was distressed, Ron shuffled closer to her on the couch and nervously put his arm around her shoulders. She stiffened in surprise, before relaxing and resting her head against his chest. He murmured softly that everything would be alright, as she fell asleep.