Standard disclaimer about intellectual rights to HP .
This is the clean version of the original "Over the Rainbow". Enjoy!
There's No Place Like Home
The first thing Harry became aware of was the sound of water. Not running water, like from a tap, but rhythmical water. Next he realized he was lying on his back. His fingers twitched beside his body and he felt granules beneath their tips. Sand? He was on a beach, then? He and Ginny hadn't been to the beach since last summer – he couldn't think of why he would be here now. He focused on trying to figure out what he could remember. At first, the images were hazy, just a blur of color. Then, things began to gain more definition, coming into focus until the picture flashed in his mind's eye, details sharp and clear. And painful. On a broom, refereeing a Quidditch match, Hogwarts in the distance, seeing the bludger, hearing the crack, dizzying blackness.
He should be in the infirmary, then. He managed to open his eyes, although his head was aching where the bludger had hit – not nearly as much as it should have, he noted. The sky, he thought. Not the infirmary, then – the ceiling wasn't charmed the way the Great Hall was. Where the heck am I? What is going on? Holy crap, did I die? And with that terrorizing thought, he bolted upright, regretting the sudden movement, hand flying to his temple to stem the throbbing pain. Too bad being dead hurt this badly. Definitely a beach, he confirmed. A nice beach, to be sure, but a beach. Great. He'd finally gone and gotten himself killed. Ginny was going to kill him. He snorted out loud at the impossibility of that.
He pushed himself to his feet, brushing the sand off his trousers. He turned around, wondering what was behind him on the beach, to see if this afterlife was populated or solitary. He saw what he could only describe as a tropical forest. He tried to remember if this looked like any beaches he had ever visited, or seen in photos and desired to go to, but he couldn't place it. Not something drug up from his subconscious, then. He made a move towards the trees intent on exploring what he could only assume would be his final resting place, unless this was a sort of limbo. He wondered with a small pang in his gut if he would get to see Ginny again once her time on Earth was finished, too. Distracted by that thought, he jumped when he saw the foliage at the edge of the forest move. Not from the wind, but clearly being jostled by something roughly waist-high. He froze, were there wild animals here? Would they attack him? What's the worst that could happen, he mentally shrugged, I'm already dead. He took another step toward the trees but pulled up short when he saw a pair of wide, perfectly round eyes staring out at him from between the bushes. Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
"Dobby?" he called out, "Is that you?" What on Earth was Dobby doing here with him? The elf was not at the top of his list of whom to spend eternity with. He noticed more rustling from other parts of the tree line and saw multiple pairs of eyes peering out at him. A legion of house elves? In the afterlife? With me? Not for the first time in the past ten minutes, Harry asked himself what the heck was going on.
As though with great trepidation, Dobby made his way into full view. Harry was perplexed at Dobby's appearance. Gone was the trademark tea-towel. In its place was a strange combination of knickers, suspenders, a ruffled collar reminiscent of the 16th century, and what could only be described as a feather headdress. Well, he had been a free elf. Leave it to dead Dobby to come up with something that ridiculous for the afterlife. He noticed, however, as the others began to come out of the woodwork, that they were similarly dressed. Perhaps the universe had made some colossal mistake and he had ended up in the free-elf afterlife by mistake.
"Declare yourself!" Dobby commanded in a trembling voice.
"What? Dobby, it's me. It's Harry," Harry was confused why Dobby wouldn't recognize him – Harry wondered if his appearance had changed with his death. He lifted his hand to his forehead and felt the trademark scar, and realized he was still wearing glasses. He still needed glasses even in death. Figures.
"I knows not this 'Dobby' you speak of," the elf continued, still clearly terrified.
Now Harry was truly perplexed. "Wait, you're not Dobby? Then who are you? And there's no need to be so scared, I'm not going to hurt you or anything." He had been so sure – the elf was unmistakable.
"I is Phlatamore," the elf answered, with a shade less fear. "And who are you?"
"I told you, Harry. Why are you all here with me?" He looked around again at the gathering of the house elves, which had swelled since his initial contact.
"Us? Here with you?" The Dobby-twin elf Phlatamore's eyes widened, "You came to us! You fell from the sky! You brought the great storm and the great lightning and freed us from the evil sorcerer!"
Huh? Harry was completely dumbfounded. "I fell. From the sky. What storm? What are you going on about?"
"The evil sorcerer, who enslaved our land and the creatures here. When the storm came, the lightning struck him dead. The wicked wizard is dead!"
"Well I certainly didn't do that – it was just a storm. Wait, your land? The creatures? Where are we?" Harry, who had come to grips with his death rather quickly, he thought, was now beginning to question his sanity. He wondered absently if one could lose that after you were already dead.
"The beach," the elf answered surely, waving his hand in front of him as if to display the surroundings.
Harry resisted an eye roll. "I know that, but what's it called, where we are?"
The elf looked confused and said slowly, "North Beach." Although it came out as more of a question.
Harry brought his hands up to cover his eyes and exasperation. "No, your land. What is the name of your land?"
"Well," the elf considered seriously, "beyond the beach there is the forest, you can see. And then the hills, and then the valley, and then the end."
Harry struggled to hold his hands back from throttling the elf, who he seriously doubted was being intentionally thick, but was irritating him nonetheless. Something caught him, however, "The end? What do you mean the end?"
"The end of the land, sir, the Black Beach."
"So this is an island?" Harry clarified.
The group of elves nodded in assent.
Harry had another question, but wondered if it was worth the annoyance he would feel after he got some convoluted answer. He asked anyway. "Am I dead, then? Is this some sort of weird island paradise afterlife?"
"Dead?" the elf looked slightly afraid again. "Surely you is not dead, who can walk and talk when they is dead? Unless you is a sorcerer."
"Well, I am a wizard, but even we can't walk and talk after we die." He realized he had said something horribly wrong, because the elves all began looking around nervously, as if they meant to flee back into the forest. "What?" he asked, "What's wrong?"
"You is a wizard, is you…is you a bad wizard?" the elf whispered.
Harry laughed, "No, of course not." He felt a surge of panic, however, and felt around for his wand. Gone – his wand was gone. He felt naked. And vulnerable. He tried to feel happy at the idea that he was not, perhaps, dead, but it was hard to muster in the absence of his wand.
The elves visibly relaxed.
"Listen," he said, "are there any other people I could talk to? If I'm not dead, then I really have to figure out how to get off this island." He thought about Apparating, but he had no idea how close he was to land, and didn't want to take the risks associated with long-distance travel.
"Off…off the island?" The elf looked like a child trying to lie his way out of a punishment.
"Yeah, leave, you know, go home."
"No one leaves the island," the elf said. "We knew you must have great power to come here with the storm. No one comes to the island. No one leaves the island."
"Well that's silly," Harry scoffed, "of course you can leave the island – I mean, how do you get clothes or other supplies if you don't get them delivered from somewhere? Why couldn't you just leave with them when they come?"
"Everything we need is here on the island," the elf assured him. "If…if you wants to leave the island, there is only one way. No one dares to try, for it is so dangerous."
"What do I have to do? I really have to get myself home." He was sure that Ginny – not to mention Ron, Hermione, and the staff at the school – would be panicked over his sudden disappearance. If he wasn't really dead – which he hadn't completely convinced himself of, yet – this was too bizarre to be reality.
"You must…you must visit the Great One," the elf said with a hushed reverence.
"The Great what?"
"The Great One, the sorcerer who lives in the castle, the one who fought against the evil one who enslaved us all."
"Fine. How do I get there? Where is this castle?"
The elf exchanged a nervous glace with his counterparts. "Follow me," he said enigmatically, and beckoned for Harry to follow him into the forest.
As they walked a worn path lined with deep, red bricks (How odd, Harry thought.), he realized the forest was more like a jungle, hot and humid away from the breeze of the beach. They finally reached a small clearing lined with what Harry could only classify as huts. He assumed this was where the elves lived. They led him to the center of the clearing, where there was a patch of dirt. Phlatamore picked up a nearby stick and began to draw a map on the ground.
"We is here, in the forest. You must follow the path through the forest, over the hills, through the valley, and to the Black Beach. The castle is there and the Great One is inside. He will know how you can leave the island."
"All right, then," Harry looked around at the elves. "Well, thanks. I'll be going now. Do you know how long this walk is going to take? I mean, how big is this island, anyway?"
"It may take many days, but you must be very careful; there are many dangers."
"Days? But I haven't got any food or water or anything, what am I supposed to do?"
"You may eat the fruits on the trees and the water from the streams you may drink. The island has everything you need."
This was sounding more and more like some strange, perverted Nirvana, Harry thought in the back of his mind, but he still had one more question to ask. "So, this path – it's the same path all the way there? I just have to stay on it?"
"Yes," the elf nodded, admiration in his eyes, perhaps at Harry's perceived courage. "Follow the red-brick path and it will lead you to the Great One."
"Right. Well, thank you," Harry repeated, "I appreciate your help."
"Wait!" the elf cried, "We have something that will help you!" He made a flapping motion at one of the nearby elves and the tiny creature ran off to one of the huts, hurrying back with a large parchment. Phlatamore took it and his hand hovered over the center. Harry saw lines and sketches beginning to appear. "This map will help you stay safe and away from danger."
"I don't understand, I thought this bad wizard died in the storm? What dangers are you talking about?"
"He had followers, who enforced his laws. They will still be looking, watching for anyone who tries to see the Great One. You must be careful they do not find you, or you will surely never leave."
"Ok, so how will this map help me?"
"It will warn you when danger is approaching." The elf handed him the map.
Harry looked down and stared in disbelief. "Hey! This is the Marauder's Map!" But instead of showing Hogwarts, it showed the island. He found the area marked 'North Beach' and followed the line he assumed to be the path into the forest, quickly finding a dot labeled 'Harry Potter' surrounded by a pack of dots with the elves names. He scanned the rest of the map and noticed a flurry of activity from other dots around the island. He wasn't sure how this was going to help him – he didn't know anybody here. Even if he saw them approaching, he had no idea if they would be dangerous or not. He decided not to mention this fact to the elves. He had to get going. At more than twice their size, he figured that if he kept a brisk pace, he could cut their several days journey down to just one or two. After all, the island didn't look that large on the map. He tried to repress the thought that kept jumping to the forefront of his mind. An elf that looks like Dobby, a weird version of the Marauder's Map, what the HECK is happening to me?
Harry said his final goodbyes to the elves and made his way to the path where it picked up on the other side of the clearing. He only had to walk for a few minutes before the thick foliage of the forest occluded the elves' village. As he walked, he did begin to notice different fruits on the surrounding trees, and although he couldn't see it, he heard the faint sound of rushing water, which he took to be one of the streams the elf had mentioned. He walked along in silence for what seemed like quite a long time when he got the distinct feeling he was being watched. He turned to look behind him, but the path was clear. He squinted into the trees, but the greenery was so thick he couldn't see more than a foot into the wild tangles. He pulled out his map. Sure enough, right next to him on the map, he saw a dot labeled 'Grajeanherm'. Harry didn't think that sounded very promising, but he stalked over toward the dot's real location, intent on figuring out who was following him. He hadn't gone more than a few feet off the path when he suddenly found himself face to face with a bushy head of brown hair.
"Hermione!" He shouted, flinging his arms around her, "Thank God! What the hell is going on here? Where are we?" He knew that if anyone would be able to help him, it was her.
The girl let out a shriek of protest and pushed him away with all her might. "No! I'm sorry! I'm not going to see him, please don't take me!"
Harry stumbled backwards. He looked at the map again, making sure this was the dot he had been trying to find. He confirmed that, and then looked back up at Hermione. "Why does this say your name's Grajeanherm?"
The girl's eyes darted around, clearly very nervous and agitated. "Because that's my name."
Harry had seen enough already that he wasn't going to press the issue. But he had no idea why this doppelganger for Hermione would be afraid of him. He could sort of understand why the elves might have been, he was a giant compared to them, after all, but Hermione – Grajeanherm, he corrected himself – was another human. "Um, why did you think I would take you anywhere?"
The girl relaxed slightly, "Then…then you're not one of his?"
Something in Harry's mind clicked into place. "That evil sorcerer? No, I've got nothing to do with him."
"Oh thank goodness!" she replied, relieved.
"And who aren't you going to see?" Harry was still trying to figure out what she was doing in the forest, rather than walking on the path.
Her voice dropped to a whisper, "The Great One. But I am – trying to get to the castle on the Black Beach – to see him."
"Are you trying to get home, too?" Perhaps whatever had happened to him had also happened to Hermione and Dobby, but something about the event had messed up their memory. He was glad his seemed to be intact.
"Home?" she puzzled. "I do not live in the castle. I live near East Beach."
"Ooookay," Harry said, "but then why do you need to see this Great One?"
"I had hoped to be granted a request. It is hard to get to the castle, to find the Great One, and even if you do, he does not always grant requests, or so I have been told. But I have to try."
"What do you want?" Harry felt sorry for the girl, who looked positively tortured.
"I need," she looked pained, "I need a brain."
Harry couldn't control his laughter as it tumbled out of him.
"Not, not a real brain, I mean I need more brain power. I am not very intelligent."
Harry tried not to laugh – an unintelligent Hermione? That was ridiculous.
"Well, I'm going to see him so I can get home. Would you like to come with me?" Harry offered. The poor girl didn't look like she could fend for herself very well. Although she at least had better fashion sense than the elves. That part hadn't changed from the norm, anyway.
Her eyes filled with hope, "Oh, really? You would let me come with you?"
"Of course, erm," he looked back to the map to make sure he didn't mispronounce her odd name, "Grajeanherm."
"Call me Herm. Everyone else does."
Harry stared at her with disbelief. Again, he tried to suppress a confused, What is going on?, failing spectacularly.
They made their way back to the path and walked along, Herm chattering easily about her village and herself. Harry found her fascinating as he realized she really wasn't like Hermione at all. And she was definitely right, she could do with a bit more in the brains department. It was like talking with Luna, but a Luna who in no way should have gone into Ravenclaw. It was a taxing effort not to laugh every few minutes.
Harry started to notice it getting dark when he heard rustling in the trees to their right. Wondering if this was yet another person or strange inhabitant of this obscure place, he pulled the map back out. Again, he saw another dot very near him and Herm, this one labeled 'Enforcer'. Harry narrowed his eyes. Well, that can't be good, he thought, given the elves' and Herm's talks about this place. He decided to ignore their tracker for now, deciding there wasn't really anything he could do without a wand, and just hoped for the best. Maybe this Enforcer would leave them alone. He hoped simply walking on this path wasn't cause for arrest or other punishment. He was so lost in his musings he wasn't focused on where he was going, so he nearly ran into the figure that darted in front of him, blocking their progress. Herm let out a strangled squeak.
"Halt." The man commanded. Harry again found himself struggling to control his mirth.
"Draco?" Seriously? He doubted this guy went by Draco, but it was clearly him. There was no mistaking that hair.
"Bless you," Herm said.
"What?" the enforcer looked at them quizzically.
"Who are you?" Harry asked.
"I should ask you the same question. What are you doing at this hour? Where are you going?" Draco was clothed in what was clearly a uniform. It spoke of law enforcement. Of course. Enforcer. That made sense now, Harry realized. He was also glad that Herm had shown the good sense to stay silent, her squeak notwithstanding.
"What do you mean 'at this hour'? What time is it? It's not even dark yet."
"It is near seven. You should not be so far from your village. Where do you live?" he demanded.
Harry made a quick decision; he only had two places of reference. "East Beach," he tried, but it came out like a question.
"And why are you here, so far from East Beach? Where are you headed?"
Harry prayed this Draco wasn't as perceptive as his normal-world counterpart.
"We, uh, we're going to visit a friend," he made up on the spot.
"Really. And where does this friend reside?" the Enforcer clearly did not believe him.
"Erm, he lives, uh, in the hills. That's why we're on the path; it will take us to the hills, right?"
The Enforcer narrowed his eyes, "It will. What is the name of this friend of yours?"
"Uh, name? His name is, uh, his name is," Harry spluttered. He was distracted by a 'pop' behind the Enforcer.
"Your presence is not welcome here, Enforcer," the new arrival said with ringing authority. Harry's terror melted away and relief flooded through him. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. When Snape had recovered from Nagini's bites after the battle, he and Harry had begun a cordial, working relationship, which had eventually grown into a real friendship once Harry had started working at Hogwarts as the Defense instructor.
"Oh thank God, Severus," Harry started forward, but stopped himself, realizing that this was, in all likelihood, not really Severus Snape. Staring back down at the map, he read 'Protector', confirming his suspicions. His heart dropped.
"Bless you," said Herm. Harry resisted the urge to smack her upside the head.
"Leave," the Severus-Protector commanded.
The Enforcer looked back at him, scowling. The Protector pulled a wand out of his robes and pointed it at the Enforcer. "I said, leave." The Enforcer let out a resigned huff, and popped away into thin air.
"What is your business on the path?" The Protector asked, none too gently. Harry bit back a chuckle. Leave it to Severus to have an equally snarky twin in this bizarre place.
"We are headed to the hills," Harry admitted, "I wasn't lying."
The Protector gave a jerk of his head and gave them an appraising look. "If you are headed where I think you're headed, you should be very careful. It is not wise to linger in the open after dark."
"Erm, thanks. Where do you suggest we go?"
"That is none of my concern."
Of course not. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and banter back and forth with him.
"All right. Well, thanks for getting rid of Dra – of the Enforcer. We'll be more careful."
"See that you are." And with that, the Protector disappeared.
"I know where we can spend the night," Herm offered.
Harry wasn't sure he wanted to hear her idea, much less follow it. But she pulled out a wand of her own and grabbed his hand, dragging him into the forest. When they were nearly out of sight of the path, she stopped, waved her wand, and there appeared a tent. It was rather small, and Harry hoped it was charmed to be much bigger on the inside. A few steps later revealed that to have been a hope in vain. It was just a normal, small tent. With nothing inside. Apparently they were going to just sleep on the ground.
"Sorry," she apologized, reading Harry's disappointment, "I told you I need more brainpower."
"No," Harry felt guilty, "no, it's fine. It's better than nothing." Well, at least it's green, to blend in. I just hope it doesn't rain.
After what Harry decided was in his top ten of worst night's sleep ever, he awoke, hoping the previous day's events had been a terrible nightmare. As he opened his eyes, however, he saw the ceiling of the tent and knew they had not been. He got up and crawled outside. Herm vanished the tent with a wave of her wand and Harry belatedly realized he should have asked her to let him borrow her wand. He'd have to remember to do that tonight, if they hadn't reached their destination by then. They made their way back to the path and continued walking. Harry was glad that it didn't seem like too long before they could see the edge of the forest giving way to a different landscape. Sure enough, when he looked down at the map, their dots were on the border between the forest and the hills. They grabbed a few pieces of fruit off some nearby trees, which poked them angrily each time they twisted some off, and then headed on their way.
Herm was chatty again today, but Harry found it easy to tune out, longing to be back home in Ginny's arms. He felt his eyes begin to water the longer he envisioned what they might be doing if he were there, and he tried hard to push the images away and focus on whatever it was Herm was prattling on about. He was glad that the hills were just that, hills. He had been expecting something closer to small mountains, but they were just gentle, rolling clumps of earth. They looked more like enlarged gnome mounds. Their path was reasonably easy, and Harry was glad when he looked over and saw a stream nearby – he was getting thirsty. He indicated they should make their way over, but as they approached, he saw a figure stooped down, drinking from the water. When the person realized he wasn't alone, he jumped up, looking like a hunted rabbit, unsure of whether to fight them or flee for his life. Harry tried to forestall the terror. He didn't even bother to look at the map – this guy wasn't in a uniform, and that kind of fear wasn't easy to fake.
"We're not his," Harry reassured him, "don't worry." The man visibly relaxed, and Harry clapped a hand to his forehead. Could this situation possibly be more absurd? Although he had longer hair and a slight beard, there was no mistaking that this person was Ron. But of course he wouldn't really be Ron, so Harry looked down at the map to see what his name was. 'Roonil' the label said. Harry shook his head in mental exasperation. Seriously? This guy's name was Roonil? As in, Roonil Wazlib, from the defunct Quick-Answer-Quill back in sixth year? Unbidden, the thought raged through him: what is going on? He sighed, resigned that whatever it was, it wasn't ending soon, so he would just have to deal with it. He really hoped he wasn't dead. He didn't think he could spend an eternity here, without the option to kill himself.
"Erm, all right. Well, Roonil," Harry had to try hard to suppress a snort, "we are, uh, well, we're traveling the red-brick path to go see the Great One. Do you know how long it will take us to get to the valley?"
Roonil's eyes grew wide. "The Great One? Hey, that's where I'm headed, too! I live in West Beach – where're you from?" Harry noticed that Roonil's last question wasn't directed at him, but at Herm, whom Roonil looked at with shyness. Great, Harry thought. Even in this nuthouse of a world, these two are getting together.
"Well," Harry offered, "you're welcome to come with us. Why are you going to see him? Do you need brains, too?"
Roonil looked offended. "I've got plenty of brains, thank you very much. I am going to see the Great One about a heart."
"You've got a heart problem?" Harry was worried; even with Herm's wand, there wasn't going to be much he could do if Roonil had a heart attack on the way to the castle.
"Yes, and no," Roonil said dejectedly. "I have always found it difficult to…understand the feelings of others." He sounded embarrassed.
Harry tried to pass off his snort as a cough. At least this part of his nightmare wasn't completely ass-backwards – compassion and sympathy had never been Ron's strong suit.
"Well, hopefully he'll grant your request, then," Harry encouraged, kneeling down to get some water. It was a good thing Herm was so ditzy – if Roonil said anything insensitive, she probably wouldn't realize it. At least he wouldn't have to put up with incessant bickering the rest of the way there.
"Shall we?" Harry asked if they were ready to make their way back to the path. His companions nodded and followed as he led.
While Herm had been mostly interested in hearing herself talk, Roonil was intrigued by Harry and wanted to know everything about his 'home' when he realized he wasn't from East Beach like Herm. They walked and walked while Harry tried not to give in to the dull ache in his chest that came with each detail he supplied. Before he knew it, it was turning dark again, and the three travelers jumped when their path was suddenly blocked by three others. In uniforms. Enforcers, Harry thought, great. His thoughts darkened further when he realized the front man was the Draco-twin again. And this time, he'd brought back up.
"Crabbe, Goyle," Harry inclined his head in greeting, hoping his sarcastic tone wouldn't get him arrested.
"Bless you," Herm said again. This time, Harry noticed Roonil shared his desire to smack her.
"It's you," the lead Enforcer accused.
"How perceptive of you," Harry drawled, trying to remember that this was not really Draco, but finding it hard not to insult him.
"What are you doing? I thought I told you before not to be on the path after dark?"
"Well," Harry began brazenly, "first of all, it's not dark. Yet. And second, you never told us we had to get off the path after dark. Sev – the protector said we should, but you never did."
The Enforcer's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Don't take that tone with me. Where are you going?"
Harry fought back a sigh, but he didn't succeed in completely hiding his eye roll. "To the valley. To visit another friend."
"Is that so?" the Enforcer was disbelieving.
"Look, last time you showed up, I told you we were on our way to the hills to visit a friend. Well, we're in the hills, and here's our friend. Isn't that enough proof that I'm not lying?"
Before the Enforcer could respond, he was distracted by a pop beside him. The Protector was back. This time, he'd brought reinforcements of his own. Harry resisted the urge to look down at the map, knowing he'd only see 'Protector' rather than Professor McGonagall or Hagrid's names there. Surreal, this was getting surreal.
"I believe I made it clear that your presence was unwelcome," the Severus-Protector said with a hardened tone, his wand already out.
The Draco-Enforcer looked at the Protector's back up, clearly trying to decide if it was worth the fight. Deciding it wasn't, he gave a jerky nod to his lackeys and they vanished.
The Protector rolled his eyes. "Really, must you draw so much attention to yourselves? I have better things to do that pop over here every night and save you."
"Sorry, Sev – uh, Mr. Protector. We'll get off the path earlier next time." Harry again had to resist the overwhelming urge to give a mock salute. Chuckling inwardly, he realized that neither version of Snape would appreciate that gesture.
"See that you do," the man said tersely. He nodded to his own back-ups, and they, too, were gone in an instant.
"Well, let's get off this blasted path," Harry said, aware that the hills were quite devoid of trees or other cover. He hoped that wouldn't be a problem. "How are you at conjuring tents?" he asked Roonil.
The night was marginally better. At least Roonil gave them sleeping bags and pillows. When they awoke the next morning, they wasted no time getting back to the path and continuing on their way. Harry noticed their walk was sloping downward, and sure enough, the map revealed that they were entering the valley. Thankfully, the valley had some trees in it, and they bore fruit.
The three of them were sitting in the shade, out of reach of the nearest tree, which was still jabbing at them for stealing fruit, when they heard a shuffling sound behind them. All three of them turned around and saw a man trying without success to hide behind a tree.
"Who's there?" Roonil demanded.
The man slunk timidly out and regarded them warily. He relaxed slightly when he saw they weren't in Enforcer uniforms, but made no move toward them.
"Hullo," the man muttered.
"You have got to be kidding me," Harry blurted out without censure. He was staring at a very tattered looking Neville Longbottom.
"Who are you?" Herm inquired.
"I'm Nobody," he answered, sounding an awful lot like the real Neville.
Harry looked down at his map and saw the dot next to theirs. It did, in fact, read 'Nobody.'
"Hello, Nobody," Herm said in a friendly voice. "Are you trying to get to the Great One, too?"
Nobody's eyes brightened. "Yeah! Yeah, I am!"
"Well, you're welcome to come with us," Roonil offered. "What request are you hoping he will grant you?"
"Wait," Harry cut in, trying very, very hard not to sound patronizing, "you'd like some more courage, wouldn't you?"
"How did you know?" Nobody was in shock.
"I just had a hunch," Harry replied as evenly as he could. "Well, if you're coming with us, we'd better get going. It looks like we might be able to make the castle before nightfall."
The four of them continued down the path to the lowest point in the valley before it sloped back up. They were nearly at the ridge when they heard the pattering of advancing footsteps behind them. They whirled around to see a congregation of little creatures headed right at them with the obvious intent of capturing them. Harry noted they looked suspiciously like goblins. Herm let out her predictable shriek of terror.
"Run!" Harry urged, but before they could take a step, the Draco-Enforcer was there, blocking their way, the Crabbe and Goyle-Enforcers at his flanks.
"I don't think so," he replied with an evil grin.
"Look, we're not doing anything wrong! Why do you keep following us? And besides, it's high noon, we've plenty of time before we have to be off the path." Harry nearly shouted, his irritation for this non-Draco person rivaling that for the real one.
"You're going to see him. The Great One. Don't deny it," he ordered.
"What makes you think that?" Harry countered. "I've done nothing but prove to you that I've been telling the truth. See? Here's the friend I told you about that lives in the valley."
"And where are you headed today? The only thing left on the path is the castle of the Great One."
"I thought the Black Beach was there, too. That's where we're headed. To spend some time at the Beach." Harry hoped this would work. More than that, he hoped the Severus-Protector would show up and get rid of the Enforcers again.
"Not today, you aren't. We're here to take you in for questioning." The Enforcer nodded to the goblin-like creatures behind them, who advanced on them, intent on taking them down.
"You can't just do that! We haven't done anything wrong!" Harry protested as his hands were drawn behind his back to be tied.
"That is not for me to decide," the Enforcer said indifferently.
"Unhand them!" commanded a low, deadly voice.
Thank God, Severus! Harry cheered inwardly. And he'd brought his back ups and a few others that looked suspiciously like Kingsley, George, and Arthur Weasley.
"We'll do no such thing," the Enforcer challenged.
"Your leader is gone, you have no power here anymore," the Protector said with authority. "Be gone, and do no more evil."
The Enforcer looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Finally, with a look of utmost loathing, he disappeared, his back up and goblins following after.
"Now your path to the Great One is clear," the Protector announced. "Go, and quickly."
"Wait," Harry pleaded before they left, "are you…are you like some kind of weird fairy godmother? Is that why you're always saving us?"
The Protector narrowed his eyes into dangerous slits. "I am most certainly not a fairy anything," he ground out. And with that, he snapped his fingers, and he and his group was gone.
Harry was doubled over in laughter. He sunk to his knees, unable to stand or even breathe, as consumed as he was in hysterics.
"What's so funny?" Herm asked, clearly upset that she might have missed some sort of joke.
"Nothing, it's just…it's Severus…and he said he's not…a fairy…and he's like…the Dark Prince of Evil…and…fairy…" Harry managed to choke out before flopping onto his back and shaking with his mirth.
After what seemed like a long time, Harry finally composed himself and they made their way to the ridge. As soon as they hit it, they all gasped. The castle was visible in the near distance and Harry noted it looked strangely like Hogwarts. Of course it does.
They broke into a run as they neared the gates and were all breathing heavily as they reached up to knock.
"What do you want?" a man who looked suspiciously like Cornelius Fudge peered out a small window in the door.
"Please, sir," Roonil said politely, "We're here to see the Great One about our requests."
"Sorry, no requests today. Goodbye," and the window shut with a snap.
"What?" Harry was incensed. "That's not fair!" He resumed banging on the door.
"What do you want?" the same man opened the window again and peered at them. "Oh. It's you again."
"Yes, and if you don't mind, we'd like to see the Great One and ask him ourselves if he would grant our requests. We've come a long way and I'd really like to get home." Harry felt his eyes prick with tears, but he blinked them away.
"And where is home, exactly?" he asked suspiciously.
"Well, Herm's from East Beach and Roonil's from West Beach and Nobody's from…where are you from, Nobody?"
"Nowhere," he replied.
Of course you are, Harry rolled his eyes.
"And I'm from England."
"Where?" his three companions and the doorman asked in unison.
"England. And I'd very much like to get back there. So if you please, let us in. Please."
"Oh well, all right then, if it's that important to you, come on in."
The door creaked open and Harry found himself staring into a near replica of Hogwarts' interior, complete with torches and stone floors.
"What is that?" Harry asked, as a green blur drifted by him – it looked like a ghost.
"That, my friend, is a ghost of a different color."
"You don't say," Harry mused. He noted there were other ghosts, too, each of them a vibrant hue.
The man led them to a stone gargoyle which moved to reveal a revolving staircase.
I should have known, Harry shook his head. Who else would it be?
"Up you get, now. Good luck!" the doorman vanished out of sight as the staircase lifted.
As they entered the office of the Great One, Harry felt the nerves emanating out from his companions. He supposed he wasn't nervous, but then again, he'd seen Dumbledore before. Well, this isn't really Dumbledore, he conceded, but still.
"Good evening," the Great One, who did not fail Harry's expectations of looking like the Headmaster. "What can I do for you?"
"Good evening, Prof – erm, sir," Harry began, hoping this wizard was as kind as the one he knew. "We, uh, we have some requests we were hoping you would grant."
"Do you?" the Great One leaned back in his seat and pressed his fingertips together, surveying the group in front of him over half-moon spectacles.
"Yes, well, this is Herm, and she'd like a little more brain power. If you don't mind me saying so, sir, she could really use it. Sorry, Herm." Herm didn't look insulted. "And, this is Roonil, he'd like to have a more understanding heart – to be able to have some compassion and understand emotions. And this is Nobody, who really needs a good dose of courage."
"And you, my boy? What is it you request?"
"I just want to go home," Harry whispered, missing his friends and wife desperately.
"Well, Herm, Roonil, and Nobody," the Great One addressed them in turn, "your requests are granted. You may go."
"Hey, thanks Harry!" Roonil said, "I feel better already!"
"Me too!" Herm cried, "I feel like I could transfigure this whole place into a wall sconce if I wanted to!"
"Please refrain," the Great One requested. Herm nodded.
"I wish those Enforcers would come back," Nobody said, "I'd like to give them a piece of my mind!"
"Well, it looks like everything is in order," the Great One said. "Good day." And with that, he bent back to his desk to attend to some papers there.
Herm, Roonil, and Nobody made their way out the office door, but Harry remained behind.
"What about me?" he demanded, a bit more harshly than he intended.
"What about you?" the Great One looked back up at him.
"I want to go home!" Harry tried to keep his voice from rising.
"Then go," the Great One said simply.
"I don't know how!" Harry replied, exasperated. "If I knew how, I'd have already done it!"
"Why, just go back the way you came," the Great One said simply.
"The way I came? I don't even know how I got here! How can I go back the way I came?" Harry was losing patience.
"I think you'll find that easier than you think," the Great One said cryptically.
Harry had had enough. "Fine. Don't grant my request. Thanks a lot. For nothing." And with that, he stormed out of the office and back to the stone staircase. He took one step, but tripped over his shoelace, which had come untied. Before he could right himself, he tumbled down the stairs, the last thing he heard was the crack of his head against the stone, and everything went black.
"Harry?" Harry heard a voice that sounded like it was coming from far away. "Harry, can you hear me?"
Harry tried to open his eyes, but they felt glued shut. He found his voice, though, and it cracked as he spat out, "That old coot!"
"Harry? What are you talking about?" Harry heard the voice that was implanted on his heart and his eyes flew open.
"Gin – Ginny? Is that you?" Harry realized belatedly that he was in a bed.
"Of course it's me. How are you feeling?" Ginny came over and smoothed Harry's hair off his forehead with her hand.
"What happened? Where am I?" Harry looked around and saw Hermione sitting on the bed next to him, Ron standing behind her. Professor McGonagall was there as well, with Hagrid and Snape.
"You're in the infirmary, Harry, you took quite a knock," Hermione explained.
"Down the stairs?" Harry still felt slightly disoriented.
"No, the bludger. During the match – it came out of nowhere and you fell off your broom – about fifty feet. If Severus hadn't stopped you – you'd probably have broken about a hundred bones in your body. Or you'd be dead," Hermione finished.
"A bludger? Quidditch? I'm in the infirmary? What happened to the island?"
"Island?" Severus said with concern, taking a step closer to Harry. "What island?"
"The – oh good Lord – it was a dream. I thought I was dead, I was sure of it – it was so bizarre."
"Dead?" Ginny paled. "You'd better not go dying on me; I think I'd have to kill you."
"That's what I said," Harry laughed.
"What happened? What is this island you're talking about? You couldn't have dreamt it; we gave you Dreamless Sleep while you were healing."
Harry stared blankly. Then he threw his arms around Ginny, holding her tight. "Oh, love, I missed you so much. I thought I'd never see you again, not after that old coot wouldn't let me go home."
Ginny pushed him back, looking over at Madame Pomfrey, "What's he talking about, Poppy, is he well?"
"I'm fine," Harry reassured her, "really."
"Harry, can you explain what happened while you were unconscious?" Hermione asked with concern, her hand on his leg.
Well, if anyone would know, it would be Hermione, she did grow up with Muggle parents, after all, Harry thought.
"Well, Hermione, have you ever seen The Wizard of Oz?" Harry asked.
Understanding dawned in Hermione's eyes and she nodded.
"Severus was…my fairy godmother," Harry choked out, laughter threatening to incapacitate him.
"Your what?" Severus nearly shrieked.
"Nothing…it's…nevermind…" Harry managed through his fits of giggles.
He and Hermione were both doubled over with the hilarity, clutching their sides. Everyone else looked on with the utmost confusion, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to stop.
It was good to be home.
