A Strange Place
The spiral of wind enveloping Harry buffeted him from side to side. It was impossible for him to see what was happening as he was spun faster and faster. His vision blurred as all colours ran into each other, it was impossible to make out any objects. It had happened so suddenly that Harry hadn't even had time to fear what was happening to him. Before he could consider where he might be going, the spinning subsided, and he was dropped onto a soft-carpeted floor. Several moments later, after he had recovered from dizziness, Harry still remained sprawled on the floor with his eyes tight shut, and his chest rising rapidly. Attentively, he opened his eyes hoping to see a familiar green lawn; instead he was met with the sight of an unfamiliar room.
Motionless, Harry scanned the room with fear evident in his eyes, he was confused and scared. Tightly clenching his fist, he tried to release the mounting tension constricted in his chest. Instead, he found a thick wad of material preventing his right fingernails from imbedding into his palm. Looking down to see what it was, Harry was immediately reminded of the stranger who had turned invisible only minutes ago. It now seemed he had taken the strangers coat. Without a second thought, Harry scrambled to his feet and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down, he couldn't stop the jolt that ran through him at having seen his body disappear.
Feeling slightly calmer, now he was invisible, Harry's eyes resumed their swift search of the room. There were five four-poster beds, which each looked as though they had an occupant tucked safely inside. There was mess cluttered around certain areas of the room, and what appeared to be a permanent lingering smell within the air.
A groan interrupted the heavy snores in the room. Startled, Harry jerked his head in the direction it had come from. The bedclothes were moving in one of the beds, and a mop of untidy black hair could be seen vividly against the red and gold bedspread.
Silently, and keeping his eyes upon the bed, Harry shuffled backwards towards the door. However, before reaching his destination, he stumbled and fell on an assortment of unwashed laundry causing a muffled bump. The boy with untidy black hair shot out of bed, pointing a wooden stick at where Harry lay invisible. The boy looked disconcerted from sleep; however, he was still capable of causing a jet of light to shoot from the end of his stick. Harry yelped and ducked at the same time, allowing the jet of light to shoot over his head.
Scrambling up once again, Harry grabbed the door handle. With a brief struggle to open the door, due to the heavy weight, Harry managed to tug it open and allow a passing draught of wind to wash over him. Before looking into what he would find, Harry looked back to see the older boy staring in momentary shock at the open door, but it was evident that he was regaining his senses and would soon be following him.
Hastily glancing into the passage, Harry darted through the open door, and slammed it behind him. There was a narrow staircase lying in wait for his small footsteps. Unfortunately, Harry had to take the steps at a painfully slow pace, so he wouldn't slip due to the invisibility cloak being twice his size. At mid-way, Harry looked back to see the door being wrenched open as though it were weightless. Quickening his speed, Harry reached the second door, and without a second to spare heaved it open.
The boy with the messy black hair reached the door just as Harry's body brushed against it to disappear into the room beyond. Standing stationary in the doorframe with his wand pointing ahead of himself, the boy glared around the common room, while he attracted startled stares from nearby groups of students.
'Hey did you see –' the boy abruptly stopped, letting his right arm fall, as he noticed the odd stares he was attracting. Dropping his features into a more neutral expression, rather than a glare, he looked down at his clothing self-consciously. Taking a deep breath to help cope with his embarrassment, he retreated behind the door as a creeping red flush consumed his pale complexion.
Gasping for breath, Harry had found a secluded sitting area which circled a fireplace. Here, he was able to calm the fear of nearly being caught by the boy, and to examine the strange surroundings he was now in. The room had a high ceiling with several open staircases leading to various doors that lead to the top. However, most interestingly and frighteningly was the variety of people in the room, most of who were sitting in areas identical to where he himself sat. Everyone seemed to be wearing the same long dress like garment, which lead to Harry's conclusion that he was in some kind of school.
The presence of other people made Harry feel nervous, and he wanted, as soon as he knew the way, to escape. Nevertheless, thoughts of how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would react when they realised he had not stayed in the garden, overwhelmed him. They would be furious with him. He wasn't sure which option was scarier, staying here, where jets of light were shot at him, or shut up in a dark cupboard. Reasoning with himself, Harry decided that at least he was invisible and no one would be able to see him. He would have to make sure that he didn't make any more noise though, because he'd have other people like that boy chasing him. The thought of the danger he faced made Harry more anxious to escape the room, and he turned in all directions to see a way out.
A bright glimmer of shiny red hair caught Harry's eye in his search for an escape. The girl walked determinedly towards the wall directly ahead, she reached out to the stone wall and pushed to reveal a hole, which she stepped through and disappeared. Hope suddenly filled Harry; it looked as though there was a way out. Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, he stood up and walked towards the position he had seen the girl disappear. Curiosity made him graze his hand over the wall, but immediately he jumped away in surprise. Instead of the wall being hard and cold, it was soft. Confused, Harry stood staring at the wall hesitantly, he was wondering whether he should explore further. Nevertheless, he gathered his courage and once again reached up, this time he pushed the canvas, which rose at his touch. Finding it hard to suppress a giggle at this strange occurrence, he laughed, before poking his head out of the hole, oblivious to the people in the room behind him.
Having leant out of the hole, Harry was greeted with a long, narrow and empty corridor, which stretched out in both directions. Sensing it was safe, Harry clambered through the hole to stand in the corridor. Anxiety still consumed him; however, he was starting to feel calmer now that there didn't seem to be anyone around. Despite this, Harry still didn't know what to do or where to go.
Surveying his surroundings closely, Harry eventually turned and let out an audible gasp. Instead of finding himself facing the hole or blank wall, he saw that it had been replaced by a painting, which he now witnessed a rather large lady moving inside of it. On impulse Harry poked the painting, feeling confused at how it could move. Unexpectedly, the woman screamed a long unbroken syllable, which reverberated through the corridor. Harry's eyes widened in horror, and he clamped his hands over his ears in an attempt to shut the awful noise out, and began to run. However, as he reached the far end of the corridor, he tripped and fell.
Sprawled on the floor and gasping for breath, Harry found himself cast in shadow. Looking up, he was met with a smiling old man. He wore a dress like the other people, only his was bright blue – rather than black – to match his twinkling blue eyes. A silver beard ran the length of the man's body down to his waist, and he appeared to wear glasses the shape of half moons.
Harry sniffed and scrunched his eyes up in order to prevent the tears from falling, failing miserably, he started to howl. The stranger bent down and pulled the cloak from him. Harry began to scream.
Unperturbed by the child's screaming; Professor Dumbledore lifted the small boy to his feet. Unable to prevent the curiosity showing on his face, Professor Dumbledore bent down at a suitable height to look into the child's face. Raising his voice slightly, but still keeping his gentle tones, he spoke.
'Hello! My name is Professor Dumbledore. What's your name?'
Hearing the Professor's gentle tone quietened Harry to a sob, yet he still did not speak, he was watching the man with hostile eyes. After a few more failed attempts at communication, Professor Dumbledore eventually took Harry's hand and led him through a maze of corridors, where they eventually came to a stone gargoyle. Professor Dumbledore halted to bend down.
'Would you like to come up to my office?' he said.
Harry was still snivelling from fear. Was this man being genuinely kind or was he trying to lull him into a false sense of security? He knew for definite that there was going to be punishment when the man told Aunt Petunia that he had left the garden. Yet this did not mean that the man would be the one to shout at him, did it? Knowing there was nothing he could do, but wait to see what happened; Harry gave Dumbledore a hesitant nod. Professor Dumbledore, who had waited patiently for Harry's response, gave him a reassuring smile.
'Tooty Frooties,' said the old man, directly to the stone gargoyle, while at the same time standing up.
Unexpectedly the gargoyle leapt aside in order to let them pass, making Harry jump in fright. Professor Dumbledore had to gently tug Harry's arm to make him follow as Harry regarded the gargoyle with dislike. His eyes still remained uncertainly on the statue while passing.
Harry's wariness of the path to Professor Dumbledore's office increased as he was led to a moving staircase, which he obediently stepped on. Preoccupied with staring behind him at the stairs to see if they were still there, Harry hadn't even time to contemplate the scary things that might be behind the door at the top. Before he had time to even protest, Harry had been led over the threshold into Professor Dumbledore's office.
Harry immediately recognised the room as an office as it had a desk, just like Uncle Vernon's office at work, but here the similarities ended. There were other objects in the room which did not look like they belonged there. There were silvery spindly objects and a series of moving portraits affixed to the wall. One major oddity in the room, which caught Harry's attention, was a bird perched in a corner to the right of him.
Tearing his eyes from the odd interior, Harry found himself being lifted into a chair directly in front of the desk. Dumbledore walked to the other side and sat facing him with another of his calming smiles.
Harry stared back at him shyly, and immediately turned his attention to the moving portraits behind the man. He preferred not to look into the man's eyes because he feared that they would turn angry. To prevent the time at which this would occur, Harry suppressed the urge to survey the strange items in the room. He had a feeling that Dumbledore was a nice man, and would not mind him looking at his things. However, Harry couldn't be sure that Dumbledore would remain nice; he might change if he talked to Aunt Petunia and she told him how bad he was. Harry bit his lip anxiously; he did not want Dumbledore to think he was a horrible person. Additionally, he did not want Dumbledore to tell Aunt Petunia that he had left the garden.
Breaking the silence, Professor Dumbledore spoke. 'So young man, would you like to tell me your name?'
Harry averted his eyes from the portraits to Dumbledore's face and then straight to his shoes. His heart began to thump rapidly against his chest. Was Dumbledore going to be nice or was he trying to find information about him to tell his aunt? Harry gave Dumbledore a fleeting look, and then fixed his eyes back onto his feet. Dumbledore's face still looked kind.
'Harry,' he muttered, still determinedly watching his feet.
Dumbledore's smile widened at his response. 'Hello Harry, it's a pleasure to meet you. I hope I didn't scare you earlier.'
Harry shook his head at his feet, and suddenly the things he had been thinking in his head just burst out. 'Please don't tell Aunt Petunia that I didn't stay in the garden…she'll be so mad.' he pleaded, finally looking into Dumbledore's eyes.
Professor Dumbledore smiled again, 'Surely you want to see your aunt again?'
Harry blinked and resumed staring at his feet. He was unsure whether he should answer the question, if he were to answer, yes, that would be a lie, and if he were to answer, no, the man might tell his aunt.
Overlooking Harry's unresponsiveness, Professor Dumbledore asked, 'Do you know where you are?' To which Harry responded with a shake of his head. 'It is a castle known as Hogwarts. Its purpose is to teach older children than you about magic.'
'I didn't know that magic existed,' said Harry, curiosity evident in his voice, 'but…'
'Yes?' said Dumbledore encouragingly, seeing that Harry was hesitant to speak.
In a quiet voice he said, 'I think I got here by magic…a strange man I'd never seen before sent me here, and he had evil eyes, and a scary face.'
Professor Dumbledore's face registered confusion, 'How exactly did he send you here?'
'I'm not sure, I think he was a wizard though,' whispered Harry, his eyes straying yet again to the moving portraits, he was wondering whether they would tell anyone and get him into trouble. 'The man had a stick and he said some funny words, and I went poof and landed in a bedroom. He also showed me this long coat…' said Harry holding up the cloak. '…he put it on and disappeared. I – I was very scared.' said Harry biting his lip, but still maintaining eye contact with Dumbledore.
'Well I think you were very brave Harry. Although, I must tell you, that is not a coat but an invisibility cloak. As you have found out it makes the individual wearing it turn invisible. Was the garden you were taken from your aunts, do you live with her?'
'Mmmm,' said Harry vacantly, he had a feeling that Dumbledore may be leading up to telling him off.
'I'm sorry, I'm sure you don't like being asked so many questions, but I want to ensure that you get home safely to your aunt.'
'I don't think she'll mind me going… she doesn't like me very much.'
'I'm sure that is not true Harry,' Dumbledore replied quietly, however, his kind comment was returned with a look of disdain. Looking at the child thoughtfully, he wondered whether the child might have some connection with the wizard world. Why else would a wizard send a muggle child here? A place of safety, the person wouldn't have been aiming to harm the child, he was certain. Finally he posed his next question, 'What is your last name?'
For the first time Harry gave him a wide grin, 'It's Potter, I got it from my mum and dad,' he said evidently pleased that he had at least something to remember them by. However, his face soon took on sadness, 'they died in a car crash when I was a baby…look,' and he lifted up his fringe to show Dumbledore a lightening shaped scar on his forehead.
Professor Dumbledore's features took on surprise; he immediately got out of his chair to bend down in front of Harry. Gently touching the child's face, he tilted the boy's head back slightly, so as to see the scar better in the light. Dumbledore's forehead creased in shock and confusion, he let go of Harry to return to his chair behind his desk. This time he stared at Harry in renewed interest.
'I'm sorry to hear of the death of your parents. Was that scar caused in the car crash?'
Harry nodded his head. 'Uh huh, my aunt said so.'
Professor Dumbledore's face took on further confusion, he was sure that the scar was a curse, and not down to a physical impact. It was strange that there had been no mention of it at the ministry. It looked as though this was a serious assault, even if this had occurred on a muggle child it would be big news. Yet he had heard of nothing like this having occurred in the past five years.
'What are the first names of your parents?'
'Lily and James.'
The Professor's face suddenly turned from confusion to outright alarm, 'What is the year?'
'1986.'
'Oh dear!' acknowledged Dumbledore as his eyes took on a shiny, glassy effect, he was considering the deaths of two of his students. Trying to disregard this information, he closed his eyes and thought of the complications a child from the future might pose to the past.
Meanwhile, Harry stared at him startled, 'Mr..?' he attentively spoke.
Dumbledore opened his eyes to see the small boy looking at him with uncertainty. He placed a wane smile on his face, 'Sorry Harry, I was just thinking. I've realised what has happened, you have somehow been sent into the past. Now before you get worried, I know precisely how to get you back to your present time, it will just take some time. Okay?'
Harry immediately smiled with wide eyed glee. 'I've really travelled into the past? Do you know my parents?'
Dumbledore took some time in forming his response. 'Yes, they are a witch and wizard, but I'm not sure you will be meeting them.'
Harry looked at him hurt, 'Why not?' he said softly.
'I'm sorry, but it's just not possible, but you can stay at Hogwarts until I find a way to send you back home. You'll get to see all different kinds of magic.'
Harry smiled content with the idea that at least he'd get to see some more magic. He looked up to see Dumbledore surveying him thoughtfully, before taking out a quill and piece of parchment from his desk draw. After writing a neat few lines he called, 'Fawkes' and the bird that had been seated quietly in the corner flew over to the desk.
Harry, who had jumped in surprise, was now looking at the bird in awe. The bird took the parchment in its beak as the professor held it out and flew out of the open window.
Professor Dumbledore regarded Harry with amusement; he was watching the bird fly out the window with wide eyed surprise.
'You like my bird Harry? He's a Phoenix, which means he lasts a very long time and is very loyal. I'm sure that when he has delivered my letter, he'll let you stroke him.'
Harry gave Professor Dumbledore a big grin. Yet, he had to wait several minutes in tense excitement before the bird flew back into the room, circling once, and then perching on Professor Dumbledore's desk.
'Harry come round this side of my desk, so you can stroke him.'
Harry got up and walked behind Professor Dumbledore's desk to stand next to him.
'Do you want to sit on my lap and stroke him?' said Professor Dumbledore, noticing that Harry could barely see over the top of the desk.
Harry nodded. The man knelt down to pick him up, carefully he placed Harry on his knee, where he could see Fawkes perfectly. Harry reached out to touch Fawkes, who nipped him appreciatively, which at first put Harry off and he took his hand back. However, Professor Dumbledore gently took Harry's hand in his own palm and guided Harry's hand over the bird's red and gold plumage. Eventually Harry felt confident enough to do it on his own, concentration etched on his face as he did it.
Then he spoke 'Are you going to tell me off now?'
'Why would I do that Harry?' said Professor Dumbledore in surprise.
'Because I went out of the garden when I wasn't supposed to…and I spoke to a stranger.'
'I am not going to tell you off. It wasn't your fault, and I'm sure your aunt will understand that.'
Harry nodded and looked up at Professor Dumbledore with another smile, which was returned. 'Professor Dumbledore are you a wizard?'
'Of coarse Harry, look here's my wand,' and he showed him a long strip of wood, 'I'm sure you'll get one when you're eleven.'
Turning round to look into the man's face, Harry smiled, but then he was distracted. Behind the Professor's head, a peculiar man was sticking his tongue out and making grotesque faces. Giggling, Harry jumped down from Professor Dumbledore's lap to get a better view of what the portrait was doing.
Professor Dumbledore turned to see what had captured the child's attention. He smiled 'Oh very good Fortesque, no wonder you were so popular with the students.'
A grin surfaced on Harry's face again as he turned to Professor Dumbledore, however, a sharp knock at the door suddenly turned Harry serious again. He snapped round to face the door using the Professor's desk to shield him from who ever came through it.
