A/N a long one with more action. I would also like to thank mocothecat foe her reveiw, and give a huge shout out to her story 'the weasleys and potters year 1: the wooden birds' its amazing. check out the A/N at the bottom.

harrys pov

The boat docks at a sandy island. so I step out to stretch my legs. I am still waiting for release from the terrors of the war, but I am coping. I have found, not peace, but sanctuary.

the island is beautiful, powder like sand, surrounded by a beautiful turquoise sea. palm trees tower high above my head, and elegant flowers are dotted around on the patch of lush green grass. the sound of gentle waterfalls is enticing, but there is something eerie about the place.

I spot one of those flowery, floating things. I have no idea what they are called, but I can easily remember dudly catching or chasing them . I was always jealous as they looked so beautiful and dainty, and aunt petunia always seemed to think they would run out or something,

of course, I now realise it was stupid. the little flowers were childish and a waste of time. of course, dudley never stopped being childish, and I, I never started. still, I reach out to catch one of the flowers, but ginny gets there first...

a terrible scream splits the Air, Ginny is standing, grasping her hand, an expression of excruciating pain disgracing her features. I start running towards her, but fred and ron get there first. I hear gasps of shock, and when I reach my girlfriend, I realise why, her petite hand is dripping blood, her soft skin mangled, her elegant nails ripped to shreds.I pull her to me, as ron murmurs 'episkey' crap. why didnt I think of that. I look back down at her hand, expecting the skin to be whole again, but to my horror, she is still bleeding.

"why didn't it work" I ask, before straitening up, and addressing the spores "please, help her, we will leave her in peace, just don't let her stay like this. Please" I can't help but hope that they cant hear the desperation and fear in my voice.

but then my fear turns to shock, where the nearest spore once hovered, floats a tiny fairy, nothing like the normal wizarding kind, more like 1 from a muggle storybook. she is tiny and lithe, with long, pale blonde ringlets and a tiny waist. her skin was creamy pale, and her big blue eyes were level with her elfin, pointy ears. her face is also pixie like, so she looks like a tiny, if slightly elfin, human. what I thought was the spore is the skirt of her dress, a poofy white number, she has tiny 'spores' on her silver shoes, that match the bodice or the knee high dress, a silvery, lightweight material, close fitted to her petite figure.?

But the only thing that ruined the picture of perfection was the glare on her face.

"hello" she said in a velvet voice, slightly husky, seductive, filled with lust. fake lust However, but he seemed to be the only one who realised, the only boy, anyway, all the other males were looking at the tiny fairy with lust.

"the great Harry potter, begging. this is new." her voice has changed to tinkling and laughing, the mask of giggles and joy only faintly covering mocking words and ill disguised contempt.

Seamus laughs the loudest, his roar of mirth well distinguished from the chortles from the males low sniggers, and the girls murmurs of uncomfortable suspicion.

" beg some more, I like it" the fairy murmurs in a silky undertone

seamus decides to beg too, his irish accent clear and strong, until everyone except me is pleading.

I glance over at the girls, Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis, two girls I know only from sight, catch my eye and mouth 'delay for 15 minutes'

its confusing, they are slytherin girls of mid intelligence, not stupid like millicent bulstrode, but not a swot like the once slutty and braindead pansy parkinson, who remodelled herself into a clone of Hermionie, only even more studious. yet ravenclaws and swots are struggling and baffled.

time. delay. conversation. but what to talk about? names, good

"anyway, whats your name? Tinkerbell?" I mock, desperately grasping at loose strings.

" no, thats my sister, im Llebreknit" her silken tones are now more like ice, but I cant help myself, I snort

"Le Bra Knit" I laugh, and then it dawns on me "tinkerbell backwards, how original" I add, mockingley.

"tinkerbell, what the bloody hell is that, an illness" ron asks, the same comment he made about the name cinderella, back in the war...

Blood. Death. Tonks, gone. Remus, gone. lying dead. spread eagled. a high, cold voice.

I shake myself back to reality, goosebumps along my arms, despite the heat.

I check my watch, as I hear a voice finishing explaining tinkerbell. daphne again, another surprise. will she never stop shocking me. 5 minutes to go.

"what do you fairies eat anyway" I manage, before mentally cursing myself. food? seriously?

"Whatever we want" says the fairy, aloof, still stung from my knitted bra comment.

"okaay, do you have any other siblings?" 3 minutes

"a sister called Bellatink, and a brother called Peter. I laugh uncontrollably. "and a rabbit called mr smee"she finishes. seriously, I cant help but think its a bit OTT. 2 minutes.

I stop laughing the moment I see ginny, she is pale from blood loss, and covered with blood from her hand. just 2 minutes.

I suddenly have an idea, ive tried magic, yes, but would wandless magic work, like, wandless accio, Hermione taught me that, in the war.

crap.

I try not to lose consciousness, as terrible pictures fill my mind.

everyone is dead, curses, unforgivables,, avada kadav...

no, I can't lose it.

my invisibility cloak might work.

10 seconds

9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1,

BOOM!.

A/N

I am holding a competition, I will probably have 15 islands. give me ur ideas 4 islands and the top 5 I will use. I will put the name of the person who had the idea, real or nickname, and will read, review and shout out for at least 1 of their storys. good luck,

everythingpotterish.