Chapter 1
Treading Water
Harry sighed as he pushed his hair off his sweaty forehead. It had
been a long year. He had finally realized, although it hurt, that his
(Now ex) girlfriend, Cho Chang, was not over Cedric. Hermione and Ron
had hooked up, dated and broken up, which put quite a strain on the
group's friendship. The classes were getting harder, and then there was
the fact that Sirius was dead. Dead. It was still hard for Harry to
understand. He had seen so much death, but this one was different. It
was so personal and so unfair .The last year Harry felt like his life,
after Sirius's death, was paused. It had the unreal quality of a dream.
He had decided that there is an event in everyone's lives that is so
big you can divide your life into before and after.
"Platform 9 and 3/4!" yelled the conductor. Harry shook himself
mentally and gathered up his things. He grabbed the overhead bar as the
train screeched to a halt. The doors slid open with a hiss and a rush
of dirty, humid, air filled the compartment. Harry sighed again and
stepped onto the platform. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were standing
on the platform looking uncomfortable. Their previously starched
clothes were melting in the sweltering atmosphere inside the train
station. Uncle Vernon greeted Harry with a grunt, and gestured the
direction in which they had parked. The car ride home was uneventful.
His aunt and uncle asked the usual polite questions and then lapsed
into silence. After Sirius's death, they had treated Harry differently.
They no longer bullied him. They acted as if he were a very fragile
porcelain statue. This would have been disconcerting to Harry, but he
didn't really notice, or care.
"Harry!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "Come down here!" Harry looked up
from where he was lying prostrate on his bed. He got to his feet and
ambled slowly down the stairs.
"Harry," he said again, "I... ahhh... I've signed you up for a sports
camp" It took a moment for it to sink in.
"What kind of Spots." Harry said dangerously. "I don't play sports,
I can't even swim"
"Well," said Uncle Vernon, "You've guessed it! You are going to a
swim camp."
Harry's beautiful green eyes flashed through a wide array of
emotions. Uncle Vernon watched anxiously for which they would settle
on. Finally, their normal slightly glazed look returned.
"Fine," he said disinterestedly, "I guess it's time I learned."
"It starts tomorrow, so you better go get packed. Two weeks and
Petunia put your suit in the closet!" Vernon called after him, as
Harry wandered upstairs.
The next morning, Harry vaguely remembered throwing some clothes, a
swimsuit, a towel, and goggles into a bag the night before. As he
waited in the pre-dawn light for the camp bus, he wished he had thought
this over a bit more. His nasty feeling of apprehension increased as he
boarded the bus and saw the other swimmers. They were all tan and
obviously more muscular than he was. Obviously the work out he got from
Qudditch was nothing compared to swimming. He found an open seat and
settled in for the long bus ride.
Chapter 2
In Over Your Head
As the bus pulled up to the camp entrance, the nervous feeling in
the pit of Harry's stomach intensified. He could see rows of small,
brown cabins marching tidily from the piney woods to the shores of a
large lake. A lager, similar brown building bore a sign that said "Mess
Hall." However, the most distinctive object in this panorama was the
colossal glass structure that supposedly contain the "Olympic- size
swimming pools. And 10, 20 and 30 meter diving boards."
Harry climbed out of the bus and walked over to the large group of
twenty-some year olds waving a large sign with these words written on
it. "Hi, we're your counselors!" A very tan, very muscular woman with
long, light brown hair was calling off the names of campers and their
cabins.
" Randolph Smith, Bill Jones, Alex Rider, and Harry Potter, you'll
be in cabin #3." Harry looked around to see who his cabin mates would
be. He noticed Alex and Bill first as they had been sitting in front of
him on the bus. He did not see Randolph. He checked the map he had
gotten from a counselor at some point during the bus ride. Cabin #3 was
to his left, and close to the lakeshore. He started walking towards it,
thinking he would meet his bunkmates when he arrived.
He was just beginning to unpack his bag when Alex and Bill walked in
together. Bill was a freckly blond with hazel eyes. He was on the
taller side, and, if Harry were a girl, he would undoubtedly have found
him sexy. Alex looked slightly nerdy. He had dark brown hair with
caramel highlights, and it just barely grazed his jawbone. He was of a
medium build and wore wire-rimmed glasses. They knew each other
already, they swam on the same swim team. Their first question was,
"What's your stroke?" Harry could see his problems multiplying. "I'm
not sure," he replied, "I'm just starting." They looked at him
curiously, and began talking about their times on the 500 fly. Randolph
walked in just as Bill and Alex were starting in on their 400 by 4 IM
relay. He had red hair like Ron's but the similarities ended there.
Randolph was a deeply tanned, powerfully built boy with enormous
shoulders. He was tall and had piercing blue eyes creased with good
humor.
He tossed his bag on the bed next to Harry's, the last remaining one.
"Hi," he said, "My name's Randolph, who are you?"
"My name's Harry," Harry replied. "Nice to meet you."
Just then, a bell rang loudly from the direction of the mess hall. "
Dinner time!" Bill and Alex shouted gleefully. They had camped there
for the last 8 years. Harry, cabin #3, and the rest of the camp rushed
towards the mess hall. After everyone had sat down at one of the many
long tables (similar to the house tables.), the camp director stepped
up to the podium.
"Hello campers!" He said, "I'm Stanley Basely, I'm your camp
director, and head swim coach." He paused and cleared his throat. "
Campers, swimmers, I will push each and every one of you harder than
You harder than anyone has ever pushed you before. When you leave this camp you will
have dropped at least 10 seconds from your time in everything." Harry
stared at the director, wondering if there was any possibility this was
a bad dream. He was beginning to realize that he was in way over his
head.