Chapter Three-The initiation.

Harry awoke the next morning to find bright sunlight filtering through his window. He got up, put his glasses on and pulled on the only T-shirt and pair of jeans that remotely fitted him. Memories of his nightmare kept flooding through his mind. The dragon, the green light, the scream, the incantation......Harry shot downstairs; trying to rid his brain of this phantasm. As he entered the living-room, Dudley turned off one of his diet orientated television programs (work out with surplus glut), and ran out of the room, eyes on Harry. Harry didn't mind this. He turned on the TV, and flicked through the channels. There was a talk show, a cookery program, advertisements (Mr. Muscle window cleaner) and the work-out program. Harry turned off the television feeling slightly disappointed; he had waited for years to watch the TV and there wasn't even anything worth seeing. Harry slumped into the kitchen to find that breakfast was over. Aunt Petunia stood washing up at the sink by the window, tutting as a group of boys, a bit older than Harry and Dudley, came into view on moped's. When one of them got off and strode towards their front door, she muttered to herself "Hooligans". The door bell rang, and Harry heard Dudley open the door and say; "Bruce?"
"Yeah" said a gruff voice back. Harry went into the hall where he could see a large smudge of oil, and petrol on the carpet. Bruce looked at Harry and then said, "who's 'e then"
"What's it to you?" Harry said provocatively. Bruce gave Harry a look of deepest abomination and continued,
"Wan' to cum out?"
"Er...OK then" Dudley replied. And off he went, calling to his parents that he would be back for tea. It was evident that Petunia didn't like this at all.
"Oh why did little Dudley poosies have to get mixed up in that crowd?" she moaned, "I always thought that he was a good boy". Harry would have liked to have said that Dudley had never been a 'good boy', but he was sure that his Aunt would never have believed him. Instead, he went back upstairs to his room. Where he seemed to spend all of his free time. Deciding that there was no better moment, he went into his wardrobe, pulled out the crate and and lifted the lid. It was like eating wizard chocolate; a warm feeling penetrated every last inch of Harry's body. A puff of purple smoke, smelling of turkish delight, surged out of the box making Harry cough. Wafting the haze away from his face, Harry could now see the contents. There was a huge mound of parchment, a wad of quills tied together with ribbon, a small box, two letters and a strangely shaped package that Harry had no idea what it could be. As he looked at the box wonderingly, he heard a muffled noise. Closing the casket, he went onto the landing to see what it was. Uncle Vernon stood, with a handkerchief to his nose, still in his pyjamas.
"Ruddy cold" he said stuffily. "I'll have do cancel work doday." He hobbled downstairs, sniffing every now and then. Harry was confused. The weather was, in fact, rather warm so this was a most odd time to get a cold. He moved back into his room, opened the box again (which emitted more puffs of smoke) and looked curiously at the other small box inside. He picked up the letters, sliced the first one open, and read:

Dear Mr. Potter.
I am advising you not to open the package with the red seal until you reach Hogwarts as it may be upsetting to the muggles you live with, and is to be used directly with your Hogwarts lessons. It contains magic powers that are effective immediately.
Yours Sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall
Head of Gryfindor House
Deputy Headmistress.

"What was the point of sending it then" Harry said to himself, "if I can't even open it". Opening the second letter, however, was much more pleasing.

Dear Mr. Potter
CONGRATULATIONS!!
Due to the amount of points you have earned your school house, we are delighted to announce that you have been nominated to become a school prefect. The initiation test will take place in the prefect lounge, the same time as the sorting ceremony. In order to practice you may use the quesiball included in your equipment. Good luck, and enjoy the rest of your holidays.
Yours Sincerely
Professor Flitwick
Co-ordinator of events
Hogwarts.

Harry smiled. He was nominated to become a prefect. No doubt Hermione was too, but what about Ron. Harry thumbed through the contents of the crate once more determined to find out what a quesiball was. The small box inside, had what seemed to be some writing on it. Harry blew away some purple dust to reveal the words
"The ultimate quesiball, complete with answers and scorer". Harry looked at it, wondering whether he should open it or not. Deciding that he needed to practice, Harry strained to lift the tightly sealed lid. When at last the lid was free, more purple smoke issued from inside. Harry saw, as he peered in, that there was a sparkling substance, (Harry assumed this was to package it), and what looked like a remembrall. Harry carefully picked it out, in order to get a closer look at it. The ball was pearly blue with swirls of purple in it. It looked like a small galaxy. Harry turned it around in his palm but, as he did so, he accidentally pressed a small button. The ball split into pieces. Harry was horrified. What had he done? He fumbled around with the shards of glass (Harry assumed that was what it was), before he noticed that all the pieces were regular shapes. Harry picked up two pieces and held them together. They merged to form a large diamond shape. Harry understood. He would have to put the pieces back together to form a ball shape again. Harry decided to face the task logically (like Hermione would do) so, he sorted the pieces into groups; the ones with round edges on them in one pile and the ones without in another. Once he had done so he set about the task of re-building the sphere. It was surprisingly easy. Once Harry had figured out that he needed to work from the middle outwards, he managed to completely assemble the quesiball once more. Harry, thinking that all he needed to do at the initiation was to complete a similar puzzle, was taken aback when the ball started projecting words onto the wall nearest him. Drawing the curtains of his window to see the writing more clearly, Harry found that the words were actually riddles.

Don't loose my stare,
Be very polite,
Don't make the first move,
Or I will strike.

Harry hardly needed to think about this "Hippogriff" he said automatically. The writing disappeared then formed a new enigma.

We live in the sea,
not on the land.
If you're in deep water,
then help is at hand.

Harry knew what this was. In his fourth year, he had encountered these strange creatures. "Mermaids" he said. The words span into a spiral, before re-joining to make yet another puzzle.

Don't laugh at me or I will cry,
I transform into things that will terrify.
I live out of sight,
I like to give fright,
Attack in numbers
and you will discover,
the one true way to make me die.

It would be along time before Harry forgot Professor Lupin. Lupin was Harry's favourite Defence against Dark Arts teacher of all time. Harry had learned all about dangerous creatures in his lessons and, wished that the truth had never been found out because then he would still be teaching. Lupin was a werewolf, but, in Harry's opinion, a nice one. "Boggart" he said and yet again another conundrum appeared.

In myths and legends I'll find my kind,
and bring eternal life in my veins.
But those who slaughter me will find,
a future full of grief and pain.

Harry was stumped. He had absolutely no idea what this could be. He went over and over it in his mind, but it made no sense. If it was in myths and legends then not many people would believe in it, but it would have to exist. What carries eternal life in its veins? Maybe it meant family history, but surely if they lived forever there would be lots of them, so lots of people would have seen them. But then they wouldn't be myths or legends. And if they did live forever, then nobody could slaughter them. Harry kept thinking about how easy it would be for Hermione. Then, as he took a glimpse of 'Flying with the Canon's', Harry saw one of the broomsticks they were clutching had the name 'Unicorn 22' on it in gold letters. Unicorns were used in muggle stories but few of them believed in them. He had seen, in his first year, that they gave eternal life to anyone who drinks their blood. But Firenze (a Centaur) had said that, anyone who slays a unicorn would live only "a half life, a cursed life" the moment unicorn blood touches their lips. "Unicorn" Harry said with relief in his voice. The words faded to leave one more message on the wall.

I am not perfect,
I make mistakes.
We are a unity,
of many a race,

This seemed far too complicated to Harry. In a panic he cried to the ball, "I'm only human" and before he knew what was happening, letters were scrolling up the wall.
CONGRATULATIONS

You have completed task two
Answers:
1 Hippogriff
2 Mermaid
3 Boggart
4 Unicorn
5 Human.
Your score:100%

Harry was astounded. He looked like he had become a goldfish because he kept moving his mouth up and down occasionally saying, "But-" (without the 'T'). When he went to pick up the quesiball he found, to his annoyance, that he couldn't. The quesiball suddenly sprouted a meter stick which hovered in mid-air. Harry, feeling a bit shocked, tried once again to lift the ball off the floor and onto his desk. His strained his hand and tried with all his might and finally he managed it. The meter stick vanished and a roll of parchment appeared on the desk next to him. Reading it Harry no longer felt pain in his arm.

CONGRATULATIONS
You have completed the entire task. You will now be judged on your achievements

Harry was bewildered. He hadn't done the real test yet, so why were they going to judge him on this if it was a practice? Harry didn't understand at all, but this was wiped from his mind when his stomach gave a huge lurch and rumble. He went downstairs, thinking that it was about time he got some food inside him considering that he had missed breakfast.
Uncle Vernon was sitting reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. Harry saw that aunt Petunia was pacing the room fidgeting with her flowery apron. "It's three o'clock" she said. "He should be back soon." Vernon grunted to show that he had heard and was wiping his streaming nose with a tissue. As Harry approached, Petunia stopped pacing and went to the cupboard that housed potatoes, but, as she did so, the door of the kitchen flung open and Dudley appeared in the door-way. Harry nearly burst out laughing, Petunia gasped and Vernon looked up from his paper, his face purpling. Dudley, was wearing a pair of leather trousers at least two sizes too small for him (extra extra extra extra large), his left ear was sporting a large earring with a skull on it, he had sprayed what little hair he had, green, and had fixed spurs to the back of his Dr Martins. All in all, he looked like an over large deep sea diver with some patchy seaweed on his head.
"Yo mum, peace dad," he said raising his hand and doing a swear sign backwards. This was too much for Harry. He gave out a large snort, which he turned quickly into a cough, as soon as uncle Vernon looked at him. Petunia, her face grave, said
"What have you done?, y-your hair", she stammered. Dudley, his face in a grin, replied,
"Like it? Bruce and Kirt did it for me." And with that he sat down at the kitchen table with a thud and many creaks of his trousers. "Cool in'it"
Harry thought it was far from cool. In fact, it looked boiling inside all leather garments. As Dudley wiped his brow, some green pigment trickled down his red face, so that he looked like a Christmas tree.
"GO AND CHANGE THIS INSTANT" Petunia cried, pointing at the door her hand trembling. When Dudley didn't move, she said something that Harry wouldn't have believed possible. "YOU, YOUNG MAN, ARE GROUNDED". This seemed to do the trick. Dudley stormed upstairs shaking the whole house with each pounding footstep. When he came back down again, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and seemed much more comfortable, (though he didn't say so). Petunia turned to her sulking son, and said,
"You, will help Harry with the potatoes" Dudley groaned. "There's no getting out of it",she snapped, with a tone of finality in her voice. Dudley was more of a hindrance than a help. It was clear, that he had no idea how to even pick up the peeler, let alone use it. In the end, Harry had done eleven, and Dudley barely one. The meal was more satisfactory than the dinner the night before. It was roast chicken and potatoes, and some cabbage by the side; Dudley seemed to have more cabbage than anything else. By the end of the meal, Harry was feeling sleepy, and, after watching Dudley do the washing-up (with much swearing and moaning), went up to his room again.
The sun was setting over the tops of houses, casting a red light over his room. He re-packed the crate which had its contents all over his floor, and settled on his bed reading the list of books he would need for the next year.

All fifth year students should own the following:
Standard book of spells (grade 5) -by Miranda Goshawk
Advanced learning of Transfiguration -by Genial Turner
Marvellous concoctions -by Flair Stir
The complete guide to the Dark Arts -by Sir S Cursealot
Charming Charms -by Mumblin Point
The world as we know it -by Plane Lee
The ultimate Chiromancy Dictionary -by Pamela Read
Magical myths and legends -by Diamuid No

Equipment required:
1 map of the stars
1 chart of compatibility (animal)
1 chart of compatibility (star signs)
2 sets of weights (one metric one imperial)
1 conversion chart

Harry looked up from the list. A hooting outside drew him to the window. As he looked out he saw, Pigwidgeon. The owl was bashing its head repeatedly at the glass, not seeming to feel anything. Harry opened the window as the owl flew backwards as if to take a run up. Soaring across the room upside down, Pig saw Harry. Letting out a hoot of glee the grey lump buzzed around Harry's head. Harry, who felt exhausted, slumped into the chair at his desk watching the owl out of the corner of his eye. Feeling incredibly dizzy, Harry saw Pig was landing. Harry now knew why Ron called him Pig. As Harry lunged towards it, the owl took off hooting merrily as Harry picked himself up and straightened his clothes again. As soon as Harry gave up, however, the owl swooped into his palm. Shaking his head, Harry read the letter.

Harry,

I'm really sorry about this but it seems our whole family has come down with colds. Mum said that you can come over later in the holidays when it clears up, because I'm sure you don't want one too. Do you think you can survive on Dudley's diet plan? You're welcome for the present and yes it did come from dads shed (don't tell anyone!!). Sorry again,
Ron + Co.!!
Harry closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to be at four Privet drive all summer.
He pulled out some parchment and wrote.
Ron

Hurry up and get better!! Hermione is going to Canada!! She suggested going to Diagon Ally on the 24th. What do you think? Hope to see you soon. Dudley dyed his hair green!! I'll tell you more when I see you.
Harry.

After a struggle, Harry managed to tie the note onto Pig's leg and after much hesitation, he left screeching at the top of his tiny lungs.
Harry seemed to get tired very easily lately. He wondered if maybe he was coming down with a cold too, but he didn't have streaming eyes like uncle Vernon did. He resided in reading an article from another newspaper (June 26th). He clambered into bed, and started to read.
Metric or Imperial?
Traditionalists all over the country have flocked to london today to uphold the imperial measurements. "Students and wizards alike have been using these for century's with out problems", an old warlock told reporters. However one committee wizard said, "we should keep up to date with our non-wizard cousins, and convert to metric." This paper believes that we should keep close to the muggles as we are already starting to drift from them.
Harry, who was feeling more tired than ever put down the paper, turned off his light and with that fell asleep.