9 reviews… Me likey!

xXDaughterOfAthenaXx – I'll think about it. I have the complete plot set out of how Harry and Percy meet. But there may be a small intervention in year two.

RedRangerBelt – Harry's probably going to visit detention a bit more than his canon character. He might not learn much from Snape. Quite a few. You'll come to know in time.

tiger1lily – Harry quite some things that he's balancing around. He intends to do everything one step at a time and now he feels that Daniel is just as important as Percy and Sally, but not on the same level.

Weird'smyname – I'm stretching the mystery to a few months. You'll come to know about the flower soon. As for the 'cursed', they are going to come by one by one.

I've put up a one-shot called, 'Saving the World'. You may not understand some parts. But it is a part of the 'Pumki' series.

Disclaimer: I don't understand the fuss. It's quite simple. Rowling's a genius. Other than Harry's dimples, she owns everything. I put in the kinks. This is fanfiction. The words are of my diction. Everything you recognize, is from Rowling's dice.

Words – 4508


To DJP,

It's the weekend. And when I think about, it has been quite some bit of change from my usual weeks.

The school is truly wonderful. I think by know you've realized that some of my words may not make sense to you, but trust me. Everything happens for the better. Or so I've heard. I don't really believe in that saying, though.

I don't really want to say out everything in a letter. By this weekend, I'll be able to confirm whether I'll be coming to your orphanage for a visit. I can do that only if Dumbledore lets me. Or if you allow me.

I sense that there is some hesitance from you through your replies. I empathize with you. If you must know, I am actually waiting for a letter myself. I've been waiting for three years, but with no fruit.

Not from you. No, I hadn't any idea that you existed. No offence in that, but you have felt the same about me. May be I should tell you a bit about myself.

I'm a brunette with dark eyes and the height of an average eleven year old child. True, I may seem older, but that is just in my nature. My neighbor had once said that I was mature and she's quite right.

I've been living with my mother's sister's family. My aunt is a thin and tall woman who has a permanent expression of having swallowed a bitter lemon. My uncle is rather like a whale, but that would be an insult to whales. I would say that he was a human-sized turnip, but then, that would be an insult to turnips. Their son is an abominable cross-breed between his parents as most children are.

I have NEVER understood them nor have I taken any time to.

They have hated me for as long as I have known. But for the past three years we've hardly exchanged any words. I've been grateful for the silence.

There have been times that I wished I was in an orphanage. But then we would have been together that seems like the main authorities would not have wanted it.

Not to change the subject, but how have you been? By the way your letters have been coming along, it's quite obvious that you hate your place.

Walt for a while. Have some patience and we will come and get you, Daniel. I promise this.

Yours sincerely,

HJP.


"Take your time, girl." Harry said and raised his arm for Hedwig to extend her wings and take off from his forearm.

She let out an echoing hoot as she flew over the Quidditch hoops and disappeared into the sky. Harry stared at her and then looked around. He was in the middle of the pitch which was a bit bigger than a football stadium. Three hoops of different heights on either sides of the field. They were about thirty to forty feet tall. He squinted his eyes and decided that the tallest hoops were 48 feet high.

Or maybe 48 and a half.

There were four large towers separating the stands into four sections obviously for the houses. He supposed that the towers were for the staff and some other authorities. The grass was short and bright green. He felt a thin layer of magic over it.

Harry frowned. Magic was being used to keep the grass from growing. Nature shouldn't be restricted like that. He noticed that the charm was weak and realized that the grass here was used to growing only up to two inches in height. About two more decades and the magic wouldn't even be required.

Harry wondered whether he should complain and then saw that this was a better alternative to cutting them weekly or monthly. Still, it wasn't right.

He had already walked once, jogged twice and ran two times around the pitch. It was a good thing that he still had the stamina. Otherwise his muscles would start to ache by the evening or tomorrow morning.

It wasn't as if he forced himself to wake up for his morning exercise. Most nights, Harry couldn't even be lethargic enough to sleep. And the nights he did sleep were half filled with dreams and bouts of nightmares.

Last night, he had dreamt that he was having a cup of very sweet tea with a toad which wore a purple turban. The most disturbing part was the taste of the tea. He would prefer Hagrid's mixture of melted chocolate with tea powder to it. In the dream, he had pretended to sip the tea, while the toad croaked.

He flipped out Skothos. Gripping his wand in his right hand, he wondered what the best position was to align his hands so that he could strike without a moment's hesitation.

He decided that his wand should be in an offensive mode. That was actually the obvious thing. Which meant that his dagger should be clutched defensively.

Harry crossed his arms a bit. His left hand, a little high and his right hand over it. The arrangement wasn't bad. The dagger for close range strikes and his wand for long range and discrete attacks.

Harry pocketed them and then flipped them out as fast as he could. The wand hit his left knuckles and he frowned. The method of getting into his pose should be flawless in case of an immediate attack.

He practiced this for about twenty minutes before his hands movements were perfect. Twirling his wand between his fingers, he stared at the eleven inch stick. It had immense power, probably the one of the greatest wonders created by wizardkind. Shouldn't he feel the wand's magic? Shouldn't there be a tingling sensation.

He sat down on the grass and contemplated. His tingling sensations were not coming to him anymore. Before Hogwarts, he could feel everything that gave even a hint of magic trace. But his body must have gotten used to being at the school where there were bursts of magic at every corner.

Harry had to get back the sensation. He had to be able to detect it.

'May be if you spent more time with your Core, you would have figured this out, already?!' Bolt said haughtily which reminded him of Hermione.

'There's the forest.' Harry pointed out.

'Then what are you doing here?'

'Keeping fit.'

'I know that's good and all, but you need to be in close contact with the wild plants since you have the opportunity to do so!' Bolt all but yelled and Harry sighed.

'You're right.'

Harry looked over the horizon where the sun was half-seen as it broke into the morning. The obtuse rays of light streaked the thin clouds with reddish hues and Harry lay back on the grass.

'Take five.' Bolt said and Harry asked, 'Beg your pardon?'

'Take a five minute break, nerd.'

'Don't say 'nerd' in that condescending tone, please.'

'Sorry.'

Bolt jumped out and stretched her legs. She gave a big yawn and shook her fur wildly from head to tail. Ignoring Harry's frown, she licked her long ear.

'There's a lake.' Harry thought.

'You hate it.'

'So?'

'Since we're connected, I'm inclined to dislike it too.' Bolt said in a 'duh' voice.

'I didn't realize that.' Harry thought in surprise.

'Inclined to. Doesn't mean that I detest it. I'll check it out later. Did you know that there's a squid in it the size of a bulldozer?'

'I wouldn't be surprised if there was one.'

'There is and people call it the Giant Squid.'

Harry was quiet, '…Okay, there seriously is something wrong in the naming system of this world.'


"Hey, Harry." Ron greeted him as he sat down on the table. Since it was the weekend, no one wore uniforms. Noticing the casual attires of his roommates, Harry donned on his black jeans, T-shirt, hoodie and cap. He had a special attachment to the cap mostly because Sally had given it to him. But what he really like about it was that the cap was perfectly fixable over his messy hair such that the hair would be forced over his fore-head covering his scar perfectly.

"Good morning, Ron. Sleep well?" Harry answered and Ron nodded, "Of course I did. I always sleep the best on Friday nights and Saturday mornings. You?"

"Not as spectacular as yours, but still fine for me." Harry shrugged.

Ron looked over the table and said, "You said Wood's gonna take you to the pitch to tell you about the Quidditch rules."

"Yes. After ten. Fifth years have extra classes on Saturdays from 9 to 10 in the mornings."

"Seventh years too." Hermione said unexpectedly behind her DADA book. Ron looked surprise as if he hadn't realized that he was sitting across from them.

"What are you doing? Stalking us?" He asked albeit rudely and Hermione glared at him as she stuffed her book in her bag which she had brought along.

"For your information, I came here before you!" She got up and stomped away, leaving a red faced Ron.

"How can one person be so annoying?" He grumbled to Harry. The latter looked up surprise before shaking his head and going back to his breakfast.

"She's lonely, Ron. I see her talk to lots of people every day. She's just trying to make friends."

"She's going about it the wrong way. You can't just correct random people around you all the time. It turns them off." Ron said moodily as though his morning was ruined.

"Come now, Ron. She doesn't always correct people."

"Oh, really? Name one time that she didn't." Ron said. Harry looked at his watch.

"8:13 a.m."

"Huh?"

"She didn't correct me at 8:13 a.m. today, less than a minute ago. She gave additional information." Harry specified before finishing his toast. Ron stared at him, his mouth slightly open.

Harry looked up at the Staff table on a hunch and saw that the headmaster wasn't in his seat. May be he was busy on Saturdays.

"What's wrong?" Neville asked quietly and went a bit pink. He had become a bit farther from Harry after the Flying incident. He and Ron still talked on a daily bases but Harry saw him mingling more with the Hufflepuffs.

"Nothing. But do you have any idea where Dumbledore might be?"

"In his office?" It sounded more like a question than a suggestion.

Harry saw McGonagall get up and leave the table. He had just decided to go and ask her when a snide voice made him stop.

"Look at the Flying Flower Potter! Why frowning? Didn't anyone ask you for your autograph, yet?"

Harry turned and saw Malfoy sneering at him Crabbe and Goyle stood on either side of him.

"No one did. Do you want one?" Harry replied trying to understand the rudeness of Malfoy's tone.

"What? No! But get one for Weasel, here. He could get some gold out of it."

"Get stuffed, Malfoy." Ron said angrily getting up to stand with Harry.

"Wow! Look at the duo! Potty and Weasel. Representations of the group who taints the Wizarding World."

Ron glared at Malfoy. Neville tried to move behind Ron but Malfoy spotted him.

"Oops! I forgot LongBottom! Feeling left out? How was your flying lesson?"

Neville went red and Ron looked as if he was about to punch the blonde. Crabbe and Goyle snickered and Harry frowned.

"That wasn't very nice. Why did you say that?"

Being addressed so blandly took Malfoy off for a second. He stared at Harry and said, "Can you even see the big lump?"

"You're quite mean. May be if you apologized for your words, we can part way as completely well-meaning strangers?"

"May be, if you can get your brain working in that head, Potter?"

"My brain is working." Harry said slowly.

"Doesn't look like it to me!"

"There must be something clogging up in your head. Wait a minute."

Harry reached for Malfoy's hair and flipped his ear. The blonde jumped back and was about to shout when Harry announced, "Found the problem!"

Harry was holding his little bronze knut which he tossed into the air and caught it again.

"Wha –"

"Can you perceive me now, Malfoy?" Harry asked lightly.

Malfoy touched his hair as if some coins would fall out of it.

"Apparently not. Excuse me. I need to talk to someone with a little more manners. You can hold down the fort, Ron." Harry said.

Harry left the table and went around the corridors hoping to reach the area where the Teacher's door led to. Harry frowned as he reached the wall which was obviously right behind the Great Hall.

There wasn't any door. He stared at the wall. Running his hands over it, he understood that it was solid. Maybe the door from the Hall led directly into the Staff room?

He turned around and walked towards the staircases. As he crossed one of the tapestries, he heard something giggle. Harry stopped. The sound was high-pitched and was human. Harry waited there, motionless and heard the giggle again from behind the tapestry.

He pushed it aside and saw a painting of a large fruit bowl. He stared at all the fruits and then the portrait. He was about to leave when he distinctly saw the pear move.

Harry gave an intense look at it. He touched it and it moved. Strange. He felt the canvas smooth. Oil paintings were supposed have a certain texture to the surface, but this one didn't. Harry touched the lychee and felt the roughness. Then why was the centre part of the pear smooth? Had it been worn down?

On a hunch, he moved his finger over the pear and it giggled. He tickled it some more and the pear wriggled and transformed into a handle. Harry blinked. He clutched the handle and turned it. The entire painting moved outwards like a door. It was like the Fat lady's portrait except this one had a handle.

The moment the door opened Harry smelt the delicious scent of a great variety of dishes. Harry peered in. He heard the scurrying of tiny feet but couldn't see anyone. The room was absolutely big. As big as the Great Hall. It was bright as if there was natural light, but Harry didn't see any windows. He climbed down five steps and then walked around all the while keeping an eye on the door wondering whether it would shut him inside by itself.

Harry looked up at the ceiling which was only two feet above his head. He walked around the entire room. There were four large tables exactly like the house tables in the Hall. Harry looked at the end and saw a raised platform with another long table. It was arranged as the Staff table.

Harry hesitated. What if this was a meeting for some invisible people? He wondered if there were crowds of people staring at him and decided to leave when he heard a small squeak.

This time harry was more determined to find out what the sound was. He walked around the entire room and saw a partition that he hadn't seen before. A thin wall with an opening on both sides. On the top of an opening, the word, 'ENTRY' was written and on the other, the word, 'NO ENTRY' was written.

Harry went through the first one and stared at the new room. Here were many kitchen islands, sinks, plate holders, stoves and many other vessels around the place arranged very neatly.

Harry had just found the kitchens.

He supposed that it was run by a group of invisible people who were shy and also scared of him. By the height if the ceiling, he supposed that they were invisible dwarves.

"Um…sorry for starting you. I'll just leave." He felt a little awkward as he went up the short stairs and closed the painting. The pear turned into a handle again and Harry adjusted the tapestry.

He went up the stairs towards the third floor when water fell over his head. Harry spluttered out some and looked up to see a small translucent man in a bright multi-coloured suit with a wicked grin.

"Hello, Potty! You looked a bit pale! Though you needed a refreshing bath!"

He dropped the bucket he had been holding and Harry caught it.

"Thank you, but it wasn't necessary." Harry said and removed his hoodie to wipe his face. He walked towards the stairs and jumped when the poltergeist whistled into his ear.

"Where are you going?" The poltergeist asked and Harry said, "Upstairs, Peeves. What are you up to?"

"Nothing." He said happily in a much too childish voice. He floated around Harry in circles trying to make the first-year dizzy but it didn't work.

Peeves huffed and then took out some powder from his pocket and threw it at Harry's face. Harry ducked and the powder fell on a knight's armour. Immediately the knight came to life, dropped his spear and started sneezing.

With every sneeze, his helmet kept flying up and falling back to the neck.

Harry wasn't exactly sure what to do. Peeves was clutching his stomach and laughing.

Finally with one last sneeze, the entire suit burst out and Harry ducked and dodged the flying pieces of metal.

"Historic!" Peeves cried and Harry took out his wand. He had read about the repairing spell which could fix broken pieces. He wasn't sure whether it would work on his first try.

He pointed his wand at the armour and imagined it rebuilding itself back to its feet.

"Reparo." The pieces moved about bumping into each other. They climbed over each other until the leg was sticking out of the head piece, the other leg and an arm were in the leg's position, the torso was the above the head and the other arm and sword sheath were positioned as horns.

Peeves roared in laughter. Harry sighed and then had an idea. He pointed at Peeves and imagined the poltergeist being connected to the tip of his wand with a spider web. Harry swished his wand and then swung it like the base of a whip.

Peeves laughter turned into a scream as he found himself being thrown past the corridor and through the wall where he cussed as he flew right into the lake.

Harry stared at the opposite wall and said to himself, "That was fun."

He turned to look at the jumbled up knight. He saw the other knights snickering but they immediately stood straight when he turned to fully look at them.

He pocketed his wand and disassembled each part. The pieces were heavier than he had expected.

It took a full ten minutes to fix each part. Then, Bolt help him straighten the knight. Harry picked up the spear and touched the iron tip of it.

"I think your spear's awesome." Harry said and fixed the spear back into the knight's grip. He thought he saw the knight stand up tall.

"Sorry for the sneezing powder." Harry said apologetically. The knight didn't move.

He was really getting side tracked. Harry had just wanted a word with McGonagall.

'You're wet.' Bolt remarked as she jumped onto his shoulder.

'Yes, I am.'

He knocked on the staff-room door. Hearing a "Come in", he went into the huge room with a whole section for each teacher.

Rolanda Hooch looked down at Harry and smiled, "Yes, Potter?"

Harry really didn't want a fuss, "I just wanted a word with Professor McGonagall."

"Minerva! Gryffindor first year for you!" She yelled and McGonagall yelled back, "Right!"

"Segment C. On your right."

He went into the room. Some of the professors smiled at him and others just looked curiously. Harry nodded at everyone.

"Professor? May I come in?" He asked knocking on the door. It opened to reveal his House teacher sorting out papers into a file.

"Potter? What is it?" She asked looking a little surprised.

Harry wasn't sure how to approach the topic. "I was just wondering where the headmaster is."

McGonagall said, "In his office. He has a meeting with one of the ministry's employee."

"Ok. I just thought he wasn't here. Do you know when he'll be free? I want to talk to him."

"I'm not sure." She said and then narrowed his eyes, "What's wrong Potter?"

"I just wanted to talk. Actually, I wanted to ask him something."

"Like what?" Her tone was a bit softer and Harry was explicably reminded of Sally Jackson. He himself wasn't sure why, though.

"Um…family stuff." Harry muttered. McGonagall nodded.

"I'll give him a word and he'll call you, Potter. When he's free." She took out her wand and pointed at him. Harry's eyes widened and he was about to react when his clothes suddenly became dry. He felt a bit warmer.

"Thank you, Professor." He said and she called out to him as he left her office, "Try not to run in with Peeves!"


The box, or trunk, floated right in front of Oliver Wood and Harry as they walked into the Quidditch pitch.

Locomotor Trunk. That was the spell the Captain had used. There wasn't any wand movement and Harry couldn't wait to try it out.

"Right." Wood said as the trunk settled itself on the ground in the middle of the pitch. Harry noticed that it was quivering.

"Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand even if it isn't too easy to play. There are seven players on each team excluding the reserves. Three of them are the Chasers."

Wood opened the trunk and Harry saw two bats, two black balls which seemed to be straining through their chains and a bigger bright red ball, smaller than a basket ball.

He took the red ball and threw it to Harry.

"That's the Quaffle. The three Chasers have to get the Quaffle through one of those three hoops on the opposite team's side. Ten points for every score.

"The fourth player is the Keeper, that's me for the Gryffindor team. My job is to stop the opposite team from scoring by guarding our team's hoops. I have to stay within that perimeter drawn on the ground."

"That's called circumference." Harry pointed out and Wood blinked.

"Yeah. Then we have two Beaters." Wood took the Quaffle from Harry and gave him a short baseball kind of bat. Harry felt nervous.

"For your safety." Wood said casually and bent down to press a small spot on the chain of one of the black balls.

The ball zoomed up thirty feet into the air and then back down at them. Wood moved back and Harry thought that he should too, but he swung the bat and the ball collided with it. It flew straight through the centre hoop.

"Not bad, Potter. You'd make a fair Beater." Wood said impressed. Harry looked at the bat and said, "I don't think so."

They looked up at the ball which came at them like a bullet. Wood whipped out his wand and gave a small movement. The ball slowed down. He took it and locked it up again.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked keeping the bat in.

"Every captain should know that spell. These balls are called Bludgers. Nasty little things. The two Beaters use their bats to defend their team against the two bludgers while trying to hit it to the other team's players. But you don't have to worry about them."

"Unless they crack open my head." Harry muttered.

Wood hadn't heard him. He had reached down to the inside upper part of the box and opened a golden emblem of the school to reveal a small gold ball.

He took it out and gave it to Harry.

"That is the Golden Snitch."

"I like this one." Harry said. It was small, but seemed to be the most important one.

"Oh, you like it now. But wait until it takes off. It's wicked fast that most people can't even see it. This is your job. You are the seeker. You have to weave in and out of the Chasers, Keepers, Beaters, Quaffle and Bludgers to catch it before the other team seeker. Once you catch this, the game's over and the team usually wins. It depends on the points. But most of the time, the game goes to them."

Harry stared at the golden ball which spread silver wings and hovered over his palm.

" You catch this, Potter, and we win."


Harry walked up to his dorm with slow steps thinking about the team practice next week. Wood was a bit of a fanatic when it came to Quidditch, Harry had just discovered.

The room was empty and he figured that the others were at lunch. Harry sat on his bed and decided to check how much homework he had left when he saw a long and narrow parcel on his trunk. There was a letter tied to it.

He removed the strings and saw that the envelope was faint yellow and was made from durable parchment. Harry turned it over to see the seal. In cold red wax were intricately designed symbols which Harry supposed were in Latin. But he could clearly make out five letters.

The letters 'A.P.W.B.D' were in a cursive writing.

To H. Potter,

I realize that you're in need of your own broom as you have decided to join the Quidditch Team. Though, I had been rather wary of your skills, I'm now quite satisfied with your performance. It is not of the custom to admit first-years into the sport at Hogwarts, but the decision by the Staff had been unanimous.

The headmistress has put in that you wished to talk to me. You can come by my office through the gargoyle on the sixth floor anytime after 2 o'clock. I really do appreciate your preference of treacle tart.

By your leave,

A.P.W.B.D.

P.S. I find treacle tart quite mouth melting.

Harry slowly set down the letter and looked at his bedpost. Dumbledore was willing to talk to him. He hadn't expected a quick reply like that. He wasn't exactly sure how to feel. Excited? Satisfied? Nervous?

He looked at the brown package and carefully opened the covers. The first thing Harry saw was the end of the broom which had long twigs fixed perfectly in one direction. The colour of the body was light brown with a shine that made him sigh. The wood was straight, and his hands could easily grip it. It must have been adjusted for his size. Harry saw the front end of the broom where there were gold letters which wrote, 'Nimbus 2000.'

Harry had just lifted it out when the door opened and his four year mates tumbled into the room. They had been talking about the colour yellow when all of them stopped short to see Harry holding the latest, best and the fastest broom ever invented.


A bit too long? I think 'Weird'smyname' is right. But I'm rather comfortable with this length. And as I've said before, the length of my chapters depend on the content.

I agree with 'E J ect' on the fact that some stories don't have a break for the characters. As amazing as the story is, I feel a little normality, even for someone like Harry Potter, should be present.

I hope you liked this. You probably had been expecting something related to the stone, but I want ot bring in a story here, not just a mystery.

Stay tuned for more!

Cabba.