A/N – Okay, so I'll
try to keep this short… sorry about the long wait, but this part is especially
long to make up for it! Please read the note at the bottom… Thanks to Coqui and
Tanya for beta reading… Anyway, On with the story! If you have any questions or
comment, please e-mail them to – Ruth555@hotmail.com
Harry Potter and the Order of Praesentia
Chapter
Three - Busy As A Bee
An amazed silence hung over the Gryffindor
table whilst the news sunk in, causing the other tables to look at them in
confusion. Suddenly, pandemonium broke loose; cheers erupting throughout the
lions as the news spread like wildfire.
"Hermione, why did you do that?" Harry asked as
the noise around him threatened to drown out his voice, and the number of
people congratulating him began to make him feel claustrophobic.
"Why not?" She asked, slightly annoyed. "It's
great news!"
"Well what if I don't want to play?!" He
snatched the letter from Hermione, glaring at her, and stormed out of the hall
towards the common room.
Whilst walking quickly towards the Gryffindor
tower, Harry re-opened the letter and read it through to himself.
The
Federation of International Flying Associations
English
department
Head
- Robert Newton , Winner, Player of the Year, 1967, 1969, 1972
Dear
Mr Potter,
We at F.I.F.A. (A/N - lol) are constantly on the lookout for developing
talent in the various fields of flying available to the modern wizard. It has
come to my personal attention that your obvious talent lies in the field of
quidditch; to be precise, in the position of seeker. It is, therefore, with
great pleasure that I offer you the chance to play for our international
quidditch youth team. The youth team travels to the same friendly (i.e.
non-competitive) games as the main team, and also participates in the World Youth
Cup every 2 years. I hope you are able to attend the trials on Tuesday
September 5th at 12 o'clock in the afternoon. Whilst we realise that this
letter comes with extremely short notice, it has, unfortunately, become
necessary with the upcoming season that is looming ever closer, causing a busy
schedule for the team. I look forward to your presence at the afore-mentioned
date,
Yours
Sincerely,
Philip
Johnson, Coach - English Quidditch, Youth Division
Harry frowned as he read the statement 'busy
schedule.' Time was something he didn't have a great deal of at the minute. But
to play for England, his national team, was the offer of a lifetime - one that
would surely not come again. He stormed through the corridors, his anger at
Hermione for blurting out the news like that still pushing him onwards. She, if
anybody, should have understood that it would have been better to keep it a
secret for a while, giving him a chance to think about it. Now everyone was
automatically expecting him to accept - when he might not actually be able to.
Looking at the day of the trials again, he groaned, realising that it was the
same day as his first lesson with the order. Suddenly deciding to change his
direction, he headed for the statue of the one-eyed witch, behind which was
hidden the passage to Hogsmeade - he still had 2 hours until his first lesson -
plenty of time to go and talk to Sirius.
**
Ron, Hermione and pretty much the rest of the
hall watched as Harry stalked out of the main doors, many of them still extremely
confused as to what was going on. Ron turned to his friend in amazement.
"He's really going to turn it down?" His face
grew sterner. "He's practically singled out to play for England and he has the
nerve to say he doesn't want to?!"
"Ron, calm down," Hermione soothed. "There's
probably a perfectly sensible reason for it. No need to jump to conclusions."
Seamus Finnegan looked over towards the
two excitedly.
"Can you believe it? A Gryffindor student
playing for England! Do you think Harry will be able to get us into the games?"
"It's only a trial," Hermione said.
"Really?" Ron asked. "Well what's all the
fuss about then? He might not even get picked!"
"Ron, have some confidence in him - of course
he'll be picked."
"He might not!" Ron, his voice tinged with
bitterness.
"Ron! What's gotten into you?" Hermione
exclaimed as she looked at her friend, before announcing she was going to find
Harry. Ron sank into his chair red
faced and embarrassed.
**
"Sirius?" Harry called. "You in?"
"HARRY!" Elise shrieked, before running
towards him, arms grabbing his legs in a hug.
"Easy, Elise." Harry said with a grin. "It's
only been a day since I last saw you!"
"That you then, Harry?" a voice called from
the top of the stairs.
"Yep, come for some advice about something."
"Girl troubles already, Harry?" Sirius
grinned as he entered the room. "You've only been back a day."
"No, Sirius - get your mind out of the
gutter." Harry replied whilst rolling his eyes, before handing his godfather
the letter he had received earlier in the day. Sirius read it through quickly
before raising an eyebrow at his godson.
"What do you need my help with then?" He
asked. "And shouldn't you be at lessons?"
"No, I've got a little break before lessons,
can't be too long though. Anyway, I wanted to ask you what I should do."
"What's there to ask? It the chance of a
lifetime, Harry!"
"And when am I supposed to have the time to
take the opportunity? For a start, the trial itself is on the same day as my first
lesson with the order; I have a full schedule at Hogwarts; I have to find a
whole quidditch team for Gryffindor for God's sake - what am I supposed to do?"
"Why don't you at least go to the trial,
Harry?" Sirius said, once Harry had finished his little tirade. "You're not
committing yourself to anything, and at least you can see what playing on an
international team's like."
"Ok, good idea, I suppose." Harry admitted
meekly. "I should really get going now then - I'll be late otherwise."
"Right
then," Sirius said. "Make sure you pop in on the next Hogsmeade visit - there's
one for sixth years next weekend isn't there?"
"Really? We must be allowed to go more often
now! Wait - how do you know?"
"Er, just a guess."
"Oh, OK. See you Elise," Harry called, waving
at the small girl who had wandered off, bored with the conversation.
"BYE!"
**
"Harry?! Where have you been all morning?"
Hermione snapped as he entered the common room through the portrait. "I was
just going to give up on you and head for Ancient Runes – Ron's already left
for Charms."
"I've been to see Sirius to ask what I should
do."
"I don't see what the problem is – I thought
you loved quidditch."
Harry sighed. "I don't really have time
Hermione – with all the courses I'm doing, and then being captain and a prefect
at the same time."
"Being prefect doesn't take up too much
time," Hermione rationalized. "There are only two meetings a week."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I just
don't have time, Herm. We've got to go to class, come on."
"Alright," Hermione said, giving him a
strange look. "You missed the announcements this morning, by the way. Guess
who's back to teach Defence?"
"Who?"
"Lupin."
Harry turned round, a startled look on his
face. "Really?"
"Yep. You missed your timetable as well," she
said, handing him a parchment. "Here you go."
"Thanks. That must be how Sirius knew about
the Hogsmeade trip then."
"How'd you know about that?"
"I just said – from Sirius. He must've found
out from Lupin. Anyway, I'll see you later, 'kay?"
"See you. Say hi to Ron for me."
Harry went down the stairs which led towards
the charms classroom, his mind miles away from the route he was taking.
It was only as he passed the same classroom for the third time that he realised
he was going to be late if he didn't get a move on. Finally reaching the
correct room with only a few minutes to spare, he ignored the stares from the
class and sat down in a seat next to Ron, just as Flitwick emerged from a
smaller room at the front.
"Today," the pint-sized teacher began in his
normal squeaky voice, "we will beginning what will be two years of hard
work. This work will eventually lead to the NEWT exams, the exams which
will become the final result of your seven years at this school. So,
wands out everyone!"
**
The class all groaned then as they received
this speech on working hard. By the end of the week they were running at the
words 'NEWT' or 'exam', as all the teachers throughout the week began to warn
them of the hard work ahead of them. Even Hagrid, Ron assured Harry and
Hermione, had taken it upon himself to be stern for once. More than one
sixth year student had been seen running down the halls from teachers proclaiming
the fact that there were two years until the actual exams. Hermione, as ever,
was siding with the teachers, much to Ron and Harry's dismay, frequently
reminding both of them to study.
In the end, after being rather tense
throughout charms, Ron had calmed down over the latest offer Harry had received,
accepting that Harry was only attending the trial and wasn't committing himself
to the team just yet. It was no surprise that the first week back at
Hogwarts went fast, as all the students settled into the regular regime, but it
did, however, come as a surprise to Harry when he realised that Tuesday had
crept up on him already. He bade Ron and Hermione a fairly cheerful
goodbye as he left them in the common room, which Ron surmised as being due to
missing lessons in exchange for playing quidditch.
As he made his way onto the great, sweeping
drive in front of the main doors, he removed his wand and held out his arm to
hail the now-familiar Knight Bus. Hopping on, his broomstick in his one
free hand, he weathered the greetings from Stan Shunpike, the over-friendly
conductor of the slightly erratic, but fairly reliable transport system, and
sat down on the bed he was directed towards. Several stops and a dozen
near-crashes later, Stan announced that they had reached the quidditch
headquarters and Harry jumped off, waving a hasty goodbye.
Looking around as he neared the large, modern
building, on which the words 'Nivea Visage' were clearly visible above the
blacked-out front door. Harry turned around to check that this was the right
place, but found that the Knight bus had already departed on its way. He looked
again at the building, which had a fancy steel structure and shrubbery
surrounding the car park, to notice that not only the door, but all of the
windows were dark. He ventured towards the door, noticing a strange circular
slot in the centre where a handle should have been. He stared at the door,
wondering how to open it, when a thought struck him. Taking his wand out once
more, he carefully inserted it into the hole and then stood back as the doors
swung open.
Harry gasped in amazement as he entered
through the doors - the building was completely different from the inside.
Scores of people bustled about, moving from office to office, stopping at the
desk at the front. Harry was jostled about as he tried to walk towards this
desk, which had the words 'England Flying Division' emblazoned next to a flag
depicting the cross of St George. (England's flag, a red cross on a white
background. St George is England's patron saint; his feast day is the 23rd
of April.) Flying on the wall next to the flag was a team of quidditch
players flying on broomsticks. Harry watched in astonishment as a witch came to
ask for directions and was handed one of the minute players, who flew around
her head and then off down a corridor.
Tentatively, Harry walked towards the desk
and, leaning his arms on the cool marble, asked politely where the quidditch
division could be found. The over-worked and severely stressed receptionist
cast a glance at him and then thrust one of the flying guides into his hands
before scurrying off to see to another 'customer.' The guide, which Harry had
been handed, sped down corridor after corridor, flying so fast that Harry found
himself jogging to keep up. He eventually found himself skidding into a new
reception area with rows of offices surrounding it. Walking up to yet another
receptionist, Harry tried in vain to flatten his hair and then straightened his
robes, before coughing slightly to gain the woman's attention.
"Yes, dear?"
"Er, I'd like to speak to Philip Johnson,
please."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Well, I -"
"I thought not - another child thinking they
can just waltz down here and waste people's time." She frowned and then
motioned towards a chair. "Sit down, and you can wait until he leaves his
office to get your autograph."
"But I-"
"Sit."
Harry looked despairingly at the woman and
tried to explain that he was here for tryouts, but only received the same 'sit'
reply over and over. Eventually he bowed to her wishes and sat down in one of
the extremely uncomfortable chairs by the reception. He was just beginning to
wonder whether he should have bothered coming at all, when a man brushed past
him and tripped, spilling the huge pile of papers he was carrying. Harry leapt
up to help him and silently picked up the sheets on the floor. Once this was
done, the man walked off without so much as a word of thanks, giving Harry a
look of slight disgust as he swept past. Another man, tall and burly, stood in
the doorway opposite regarding this scene. As Harry sat down again, he walked
over.
"That was nice of you, kid - I'll say thanks
for him."
Harry blushed, muttering, "It was nothing,
really."
"No, but it's nice to see that some kids
today have manners." The man grinned as he looked towards the receptionist, who
was glaring at the both of them. "I've got a load of prospective players coming
today - no doubt snotty, stuck up buggers the lot of them. Anyway, How 'bout I
give you a tour of the pitch?"
Harry smiled, but shook his head. "The
receptionist said to stay here until Mr Philip Johnson came out, and he hasn't
yet."
The man laughed. "Yes, he has. Philip
Johnson, nice to meet you." He offered Harry a hand. "What can I do for you
then?"
Harry stood up quickly. "Oh, I'm here for the
quidditch trials."
"Really? What's your name then, son?"
"Harry, Harry Potter."
The man observed Harry with a critical eye.
"You're really Harry Potter?"
Harry raised his bangs to reveal the scar.
"Well I never..." He stared at Harry for a
minute and then shook himself. "Come on then, Harry. The trials are being held
on the pitch out back."
Talking the whole way about various quidditch
games, Philip led Harry through door after door before finally arriving on a
large field, the familiar hoops at either end. A group of people was already
gathered in the centre of the pitch, all of them holding broomsticks. They
looked over as the two walked over, whispering amongst themselves.
Johnson grinned as he approached the players
who were separated into two groups - obviously the current team and those
trying out.
"Right then, folks. Is everyone here?"
The team, who looked to be aged roughly 18 to
20, heartily shouted their positive reply. Philip turned to the others and
began to take names to check that everybody was there. Harry didn't recognise a
single name but then, he figured, why would he? - His knowledge of wizarding
families was hardly extensive. Harry couldn't help but notice that he seemed to
be a bit younger than most of the other players trying out - a matter which
certainly wasn't helped any by his short stature, and was especially brought to
his attention when one of the team members muttered
"What's with the kid?"
Harry blatantly ignored them, although the
comment itself instilled a little fear into him - what if he looked stupid?
"Right then, everybody, hello and welcome to
this years seeker trials. This is our current team to your left, consisting of
Tom Skelts, Robert Harton; the Beaters, Jess Dennings, Frances Towes, Sid
Trent; the Chasers, and our Keeper, Andy Jacobs. I'm Philip Johnson, and as I'm
sure you've all already introduced yourselves, I won't force you to call out
your names. This is Harry P-" Philip considered something for the minute. "Yes,
this is Harry - got ambushed by the receptionist, didn't you son?" He laughed
loudly, before instructing the players to hand out brooms.
Harry, who still held his Firebolt in his
right hand, placed it down on the ground, instead accepting a Nimbus-2000 which
he noticed all the people present seemed to hold – probably in the interests of
keeping all competitors on a level playing field. He listened carefully as
Johnson proceeded to inform all the candidates that they would each be given
three chances at catching the snitch. Not only would their times be important,
but also their flying style and method would be watched. Harry couldn't help
but notice that, as the youngest and last to arrive, he had instantly been
shoved to the back of the line.
As player after player had each of their
three turns at catching the snitch, Harry's mind wandered as he thought of what
could go wrong. He could fall off his broom; be flying for hours without
spotting the winged ball; accidentally crash into something expensive - his list
went on and on. Finally, he realised that it was his turn next and, taking one
last glance at the people stood around him, mounted his broom to wait for the
whistle.
"PHWEEEEEET!"
As the shrill whistle blew all around Harry,
he scanned the pitch briefly, looking for the familiar glimmer of gold.
Spotting it shimmering in the far right-hand corner of the pitch, he took off
from the ground and sped after the snitch, only to catch it easily. He returned
to the ground amid silence.
"Yes, Harry. That was...excellent...quickest
time in fact." This fact seemed to have thrown Philip Johnson slightly.
"However, best of three, as you know."
Harry prepared himself once more, his mind
focused on finding the ever-elusive ball as he lifted off the grass. Once again
quickly spotting it above him, he rose steeply at an almost vertical angle to a
height high above the ground, before grasping the cold metal with a free hand.
He once again returned to those on the floor to find he had achieved the
quickest time. As he rose for the final time, Harry found no immediate sign of
the snitch, and so flew in loops high above the ground in a desperate bid to
spot it. It seemed like hours passed before any sign of the snitch was seen -
Harry was beginning to think his thoughts had come true. Just as despair began
to sink in, he spotted it on the ground, two feet to the side of the team.
Grasping the broom firmly he dove steeply towards the ground feeling the wind
rush through his unruly hair. Pulling up sharply when the ground was mere
inches away, he stretched out to grab the snitch and, once he was assured that
it was firmly within his grasp, glided slowly towards the ground worried about
the fact that he had taken a fair while on his last turn.
"Harry." Philip glanced at him strangely.
"Yes, er, well done. Why don't you go and stand with the others for now?"
Turning around to speak to his team, Philip
was unsurprised to see them staring in disbelief at the boy who had just walked
off.
"Er, Coach?" One of the girls spoke in a quiet
whisper. "Where the hell did you find that kid?"
Her team-mates voiced their agreement.
"He plays for a team at Hogwarts. He's the
captain, actually."
Sid Trent cleared his throat. "Let me guess,
Gryffindor? I heard they've been on a winning streak for a couple of years -
does he have something to do with it?"
"You could say that - although I saw the team
the other day, fantastic as a whole."
"You getting rid of all of us now then, eh?"
One of them joked, his voice deep with a thick northern accent. "Going to
replace all us oldies with a bunch of school kids?"
"We're agreed then?"
"What's there to agree about? He was faster
than any of the others by a long shot - and that dive!"
"Right then, I'll send the others home."
He returned a minute later, having congratulated
each of the players on their effort and holding Harry back, waiting for Harry
to fetch his broom before joining them.
"Now then, Harry, myself and the team were
all extremely impressed with your trial. If you are willing, we would be
delighted for you to play for as our new seeker."
Harry's face paled. "Really?" He asked, his
voice croaky. "I wasn't - I mean - I'm not sure-"
"What is it, Harry?"
"Well - I didn't think I stood a chance so I
thought I'd just try out, but I - I don't actually know whether I'll be
allowed!"
Philip frowned. "I'm sure Dumbledore will
allow you to come with the team, as well as maintain your education."
"Oh, no. It's not Dumbledore that won't let
me, it's Sirius - I'm supposed to be having training." He paused here, knowing
he couldn't give the full details. "Because of Voldemort."
The team, who had been whispering amongst
themselves, stopped and stared at Harry as he finished this statement, as, not
knowing he was Harry Potter, had no idea why he would need training. Philip,
however, knowing who Harry was, assumed that he would be undertaking extra
defensive training.
"Sirius? Sirius Black - your godfather, yes?"
Receiving a nod, he grinned. "Well, I think I might be able to persuade Black
round - I played on the team at Hogwarts with him for 4 years, I should hope he
remembers me."
Harry wasn't convinced but smiled weakly
non-the-less, frowning as the team continued to stare.
"What's this about training for You-Know-Who?"
Robert asked, followed by Jess' "Why does Harry need training?"
Philip looked at them as if they were
particularly stupid. "Have you lot had too many bludgers to the head? Why does
Harry Potter need to train for you-know-who?" He rolled his eyes. "I would have
thought it was glaringly obvious."
Harry spoke up at this. "Er, I don't think
they knew that that's who I am-"
"They should have guessed - Seeker for
Gryffindor, honestly. Anyway, Harry. I assure you that we'll have you playing
for us in no time, but for now, I think you should head back to school - did
you come on the Knight Bus?"
"Yes," Harry replied, as he began to turn,
heading for the entrance to the building. "Thanks for letting me tryout," he
called behind him.
"Thanks for coming, Harry - we'll see you
later!"
Philip turned back to the team as Harry
walked away, trying to explain everything to his astounded players.
**
By the time Harry arrived back, and since he
had Potions last thing on a Tuesday he made little effort to hurry back for his
lessons, the sky was darkening and the students were slowly returning to their
common room. He was heading towards the Gryffindor tower himself when he
realised with a jolt that his first lesson with the Order was tonight.
Clambering through the portrait, he scanned the room for signs of red-heads,
and finding a small gaggle of them in the far right hand corner he wandered
over.
"Hey, Harry!"
"How did it go?"
Harry thought about this – he still didn't
know if he'd be able to play yet, and he still wasn't sure how to handle Ron yet.
"I'm not sure," was the answer he finally
decided on, which seemed to satisfy most of the people sat around him. Faking a
rather large yawn, Harry declared he was retiring to bed and disappeared before
anything more could be said, or before anybody could question the time at which
he was going to bed. He knew he would need the sleep.
**
Harry brushed a hand across his face as a he
felt something moist on it. When the moistness remained, he groaned and
rolled over to face the pillow, which was under his head. Suddenly, something
grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over. Opening his eyes slightly,
Harry found himself staring into a pair of large brown eyes. Sitting up
with a yelp, Harry shied away from the animal on his bed, only to realise that it
was Snuffles a dog more commonly known as Sirius Black.
"Sirius?" Harry asked blearily, in a voice
most children would speak with when being woke up at midnight. "Get off, what
are you doing?"
"Waking you up," Sirius said having
transformed. "Come on, we have to go or we'll be late."
Harry groaned – he was far too tired for
training, but got up and dressed quickly before following Sirius out of the
door.
"Remind me again why they couldn't drag me
out at a more reasonable hour, Sirius?"
"Hey, do you think I enjoy being up in the
middle of the night?"
"Alright! Let's just get this over with,
okay?"
"What do you mean-"
"Nothing," Harry snapped a little too
hastily. "Nothing at all."
"Harry, don't lie - I can tell when
you're lying." Sirius said with a grin. "I can tell when you're lying for God's
sake - you go all shifty and won't look the person in the eye, plus you run
your hand through your hair."
Harry looked up to find his hand in his hair
and began to try to explain what he meant
"I just have a strange feeling about all of
this, Sirius. First, Ollivander is killed in that train crash; then I get
kidnapped to a strange order; and now I'm picked to play for England. Don't you
think they're somehow linked?"
"Don't be daft, Harry! Of course they're not.
Ollivander was just in the wrong place at the wrong time - and your skills got
you onto that team. Dumbledore would know if anything was wrong - and he
promises me that we can trust these people."
"Sirius! I wouldn't trust those people as far
as I could throw Professor Snape, and I'm supposed to do everything they say?"
"Just give it a go, Harry. I'm not sure I
trust this order either - but they certainly seem to believe in you, so give
them a chance, ok?"
"Okay, but I'm not sure about this."
As they reached the stone gargoyle which
guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office Sirius said the password
quietly and walked, Harry following, towards the spiralling staircase.
Professor Dumbledore was stood waiting for them at the entrance to his office.
"Are you ready, Harry?" He asked.
"As I'll ever be."
Harry reached out and grabbed the Portkey,
which the headmaster now produced from his robes. He turned to glance at Sirius
who was still stood by the door.
"Come on then!" Harry said in an irritated
voice.
"I'm not coming with you, Harry."
"What?"
"I'm not allowed to come." Sirius replied
with a sigh. "You're supposed to train by yourself."
"I'm not going by myse-" Harry's voice was
cut short as the Portkey he was holding activated itself, taking him away from
the office.
"We shouldn't have done that, Albus." Black
frowned, looking up at the wizened mage. "He doesn't trust them – he needed
someone to go with him."
Dumbledore said nothing in reply.
"I'll wait here until he returns." Black said
icily, before his faced changed to wear a slight grin. "Gobstones, Albus?"
**
Harry let out a cry of surprise as the Portkey
whisked him away during his argument with Sirius. As the familiar tug left him
stood in the chamber at the order, he span around violently, looking for
someone to explain things to him. Finding the leader, Causidicus,
standing only a few feet behind him, his face formed a frown and he snapped,
"Why couldn't Sirius come with me?
"Mr Black would have proved a distraction.
You will train without distractions, it is the only way."
Harry chose not to push this any further.
"What is this training anyway?" He asked, getting straight to the point.
"Come, and you shall see."
Harry rolled his eyes at the typically
cryptic answer and, for a minute, considered refusing to go, before his
curiosity got the better of him and he trailed reluctantly after the man.
Finally, they entered into a white room, the walls of which seemed to glow with
a strange iridescence.
"This," Causidicus explained, "is the Neatone
Room - a room where you will learn to control your powers." Harry opened his
mouth to ask something at this point, but Causidicus continued. "The kind of
magic we, and you, have access to has very few limits. It requires no activation
words, no incantations, and no potions. It is merely a way of being."
Harry watched dubiously as Causidicus raised
his arms slowly. There was a moment's silence in which time itself seemed to
stand still, before there was a loud flash as various flashes flew around the
room in an array of colours, finally printing themselves on the walls. Harry's
mouth hung open.
"Of course," Causidicus reasoned, "these are
merely the building blocks of what is a very complex matter. There is no limit
to what these powers can achieve - as long as the user's intentions are good -
but as elements are made up of atoms," he motioned to the walls, "all magic
made from these building blocks, and so you must learn to control these blocks.
We are well aware," he added upon seeing Harry open his mouth to argue about
something, "that you have already begun to control them - but we shall still
start at the beginning. I believe it was a Muggle who once said that the
beginning is a very good place to start, wise words indeed - many wizards
underestimate Muggles, Mr Potter. Do not let yourself become one of them."
"What do I do then?" Harry asked, still
mystified as to what they wanted of him.
"Close your eyes, Mr Potter." Causidicus
said, his voice calming. "Now, imagine you can see the magic in the air in
front of you. Imagine it as tiny objects, each one the same, yet different by a
minute detail."
Harry opened his eyes a little, feeling
extremely stupid.
"Concentrate, Mr Potter!"
Harry snapped his eyes shut again quickly,
and began to try to do as he was instructed. After several more minutes of
standing around feeling foolish, he began to see strange white shapes moving on
the insides of his eyes - he could only assume they were what he was waiting
for.
"I see them!"
"Excellent, Excellent. Now imagine them
forming a colour, any colour, and make it solid."
Harry willed the white lights to become green
and solid, repeating the instruction over and over in his mind.
"Ah, well done, Mr Potter. Yes, well done
indeed, open your eyes."
Harry cautiously opened his eyes to see the
room had become a dazzling green colour.
"Excellent, now, again."
**
By the time they stopped this exercise, Harry
had completely run out of colours to turn the room - even having resorted to
descriptive colours such as sunshine yellow or oatmeal white. He was beginning
to sound like a paint booklet, still, he found that the practice was working.
Now, instead of turning the whole room pink or purple, he could form blobs of
colours on the wall, and in much quicker times. As Causidicus led Harry from
the room, he congratulated Harry on his achievements, and then directed him to
return the following week for more work. As he grabbed the Portkey, Harry
wondered exactly what had been achieved tonight. All this build-up, only to
splatter a few colours on a white wall? How was that ever going to help in the
battle against Voldemort? However, Causidicus had told him that the magic was
responsive when you were least thinking about what you were doing. The less
conscious you were of performing it, the better it would work - so practising
simple things would probably make the harder things come more naturally -
right?
He closed that particular train of thought as
the Portkey dumped him back in the headmaster's office, and he seemed to
suddenly feel extremely tired.
"Ah, welcome back, Harry." Dumbledore said
with a smile, a strange black smudge on his cheek. "I trust you are well?"
"Er - yes, I suppose. What's going on?"
"Just a small game of exploding snap." Sirius
said, glancing up from his cards. "I've been re-introducing Albus to some of
the finer wizarding games available today. How was it?" He asked, suddenly
becoming concerned. "Did they treat you ok?"
"Yeah, fine." Harry replied tiredly. "Where's
Elise? You didn't leave her at home did you - you know she'll get scared if she
wakes up and nobody's there!"
"I left her with Moony - she's probably
asleep now anyway - unless she felt like getting up early."
"Why? What time is it?"
"Six o'clock in the morning," Dumbledore said
with a sigh. "I think you have time for about an hours sleep."
"What?! I thought the Portkey had a
time-charm on it or something?"
"It did, but just that once as you needed to
get back before you were noticed to be missing. The order, and myself I'm
afraid, have agreed that it is too dangerous to tamper with the time scale on a
weekly basis. I'm afraid you'll just have to struggle through class in the
morning. What is it you have first thing?"
"Transfiguration," Harry groaned.
"Well, perhaps you will have time for sleep
at lunch. Good night, Harry."
As Harry left the room, Sirius turned to the
old headmaster, his face creased in a frown.
"This isn't going to work, Albus. They can't keep
working him all night like this - he's exhausted as it is, and look at what I
got this evening!" He handed a parchment to Dumbledore. "I remember Pip of
course, and I'd love to help him - but I don't know if Harry's going to be able
to cope with all of these things piled up at once."
"Ah yes, Mr Johnson - I remember him well.
Rather small during his time here, wasn't he? Minerva always said he'd make a
fine professional quidditch player."
"Yes, he was a great chaser - but anyway, to
address the matter at hand, Albus?"
"I think we should let Harry make up his own
mind. I'm sure he would ably cope, if he had the mind to. Anyway - I believe
you deserve some sleep as well, Sirius. I'll see you at the next meeting, yes?"
"Certainly." Sirius stood and gathered his
cloak of the back of the chair. "Goodnight, Albus."
**
It seemed to Harry that he had barely set his
head down on his pillow, before Ron was shaking him awake again for school. He
blearily dragged himself out of bed, and headed towards the bathroom in the
hope that a shower might wake him up. It did very little to help. He was
practically asleep at breakfast, and at one point actually put his face into
the plate of food Hermione had concernedly placed before him.
Having eaten very little, Harry was dragged
by his friends towards their first lesson and sat down in a chair, books on his
desk. He tried in vain to listen to Professor McGonagall's every word, but
eventually, the warmth of the classroom combined with his overwhelming exhaustion,
caused him to fall asleep on top of his desk...
"POTTER!"
Harry woke up with a start, slowly opened his
eyes and looked up, straight into the face of an extremely angry
transfiguration professor.
"Since you were paying such attention,
perhaps you would like to complete the assignment, and transform these feathers
into birds?"
Harry searched for his glasses, which had
fallen of at some point, and upon deciding they were nowhere to be found, tried
to look for the feathers on the desk. He finally spotted something white and
blurry, and asked McGonagall,
"What kind of bird?"
"Any, Potter. Just do it."
Harry's head hurt as he struggled to stay
awake, and in the end, he closed his eyes and, trying not to think too hard
(which wasn't actually too much of a problem at this point), began willing the
birds to form. Just as he began to drift off to sleep again, he heard a gasp
from above him. Vainly opening one eye, he looked up again into his professor's
startled face.
"How did you – but, your wands on the floor!"
The professor whispered in amazement, before another question plagued her.
"What are they?"
Harry looked carefully at the yellow blobs in
front of him, which were talking rather loudly.
"Tweetie Pies, I think." He said sleepily
before drifting, to a chorus of " I tought I taw A puddy tat," into a
sleep which McGonagall didn't wake him from.
**
The rest of the week passed in a blur as
Harry ended up doing 3 detentions for falling asleep in class, one of which
caused him to be sent to the hospital wing where an overly friendly plant
decided to bite him. It was only when Ron reminded him of the upcoming
Hogsmeade trip as they sat at dinner on Friday morning, that he realised it was
the weekend tomorrow and that there would be no lessons.
"You going to pop in on Sirius and Elise at
the Furiae tomorrow, Harry?"
"Yeah, sure. You want to come?"
"As long as you keep Elise well away from me
- she's more trouble than she looks."
Hermione laughed. "What's the matter Ron?
Can't handle a five year old? I thought you'd be good with kids, being an older
brother and all."
"Hey, Ginny's only a year younger." He
defended. "Besides, she always had plenty of other brothers to look after her -
I used to help her get into trouble."
**
"Come on Hermione! We're going to miss the
coaches!"
"I'm coming, I'm just looking for my money
bag!"
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and mouthed 'Girls'.
Harry grinned and didn't mention the fact that Ron had spent half an hour
looking for his earlier. Finally their friend appeared, and the trio rushed
through the school and leapt onto a coach.
"Are we going to see Sirius first, or go to
the shops first?" Hermione asked.
"Sirius first," Harry replied, "then we'll
know how much time we have for shops afterwards."
Hermione looked out of the window and saw
smoke rising from one of the houses in the village.
"Mmm, I could just do with a fire to sit in
front of now - It's ages since I've had roasted marshmallows."
Harry and Ron looked at their friend,
shrugged, and turned back to their conversation concerning the national
quidditch league.
"Heard anything about the trial yet, Harry?"
Hermione asked, trying to become involved in the conversation.
"Er, no." Harry said, telling a half-truth.
"But I suppose these things take time."
Hermione looked at him suspiciously as he
loosened the collar of his robe, but seemed to ignore him, and turned back to
staring out of the window.
Finally, the coaches ground to a halt and the
students piled out onto the streets. The trio headed in a different direction
to the rest of the pack, veering north towards the more residential area of the
village. As they walked they laughed and joked about various topics - although
Harry couldn't help but notice they particularly seemed to enjoy re-living last
Wednesday, when he had repeatedly fallen asleep. He was just turning to Ron to
form a rebuttal, when a strange sight made his mouth drop open in horror. He
suddenly sprinted up the hill, leaving Hermione and Ron in his wake.
"Harry?!"
"Where's he off to?"
"I haven't got a cl-" Ron stopped mid-tirade
and stared, gob-smacked. Hermione followed his stare, and screamed in terror.
The Dark Mark was hanging over The Furiae.
Anyway...don't you just love the moving
writing thing?
Thanks to those who reviewed the last part,
namely;
(Please, if you don't want to find a reply,
read the part below the tahnk you list, there's an important mssage! Thanx)
Lizzy/Tygrestick – Yep, very interesting
indeed! Thanks..
Katie Potter – Thanks!
Jamie Potter – I was kidding..anyway, thanks!
Kelzery – It's always been my belief that
Harry's dreams see the future, whether or not he's an actual seer I haven't
decided yet!
Quirky, Insane, Flakey – you read my mind,
man…cool….Harry agrees…very suspicious this whole shebang…Thanks!
Tryst – yep, thanks
Dumbledore's True Love – Good, good…keep
trying…I love Ginny really ^_^
Water Nymph – er, sorry about your knees..
this part is here now!
Shadow – The England Youth team is similar to
the football or soccer youth teams, depending on your nationality. They are under 18, and follow the actual
team to all the matches..hope ur less confused now!
Ravenclaw Filly – Right..no cliffhanger..heh
heh…sorry
Nagh – You'll have to wait and see!
Sandrine – Glad you like it, thanks!
Sarah – Thanks, no it's not going well..but
I'll keep trying..
Rachel – you'll have to wait and see….
Zara – yes, very freky..
Potter_Hal – thanks, and sorry about this
cliffie…
Someone2 – good! Thanks v.much
Krazy Kris – again, you'll have to wait and
see..you lot are an impatient bunch..
Adelina – Glad you're enjoying it!
Brittni – Great! Thanks!
NK – Thanks!
Zybenkizzashanta - Causidicus is a latin
name, meaning leader..(I can't remember if I already told u that!) Glad you're
enjoying it!
Ellie – Thanks for reviewing all three parts
at once!! I really appreciate it!
Katy – Glad you liked it!
Malfoy's Best Friend – You're right.. he is
short of time! What will he decide?
Rita Skeeter – haha - thanks
Katy 713 – I don't know, we'll see!
Dumbledore – Glad I've got you
enthralled…here's the next part!
No Reply – it's continued!!
Mimi – glad you liked it!
Herm – Thanks!
Tina Bedina – Thanks!
Jenn – Thanks for all the comliments, I'm
really glad you're enjoying the sequel.
Suzy Beth - I'm glad you were looking forward to it!
Arabella Figg – Great, thanks!
Itari 15 – Done!
Demon Child – Thanks!
Insane Kat – Thanks!
Elizabeth – Thanks you..
Assila Farseeker – Thanks!
Ten No Magami - Gracia…(*sutitles* thank you.)
Coqui – Hello!! Couldn't be bothered to email
indeed! Well..I got it finished!
Suzybeth – I haven't given up – and here's
the proof!
Yellow Daisyz Girl – Thanks!
Christy – Thanks, and I'm really glad you're
enjoying it!
Jeanne – thanks!!
Kitty.C – Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying.
By the by, I really love your story – the quidditch game isn't it? Anyway. Get
the next part up soon! (Not to be hypocritiacal…..)
Phew! Thanks to everyone! You've now taken me
up to 103 reviews for this story!
Of course, a huge thanks to Tanya and Coqui,
for beta reading my story, which wouldn't be half as grammatically correct if
they didn't have something to do with it!
Right, now for the message….
Okay, You may have noticed that this part is
very long..well, for me. Anyway, this is because I wanted to compensate for
what is now going to be a fairly large gap whilst I do 3 weeks of studying,
followed by 3 weeks of exams. I hope to
get a part out whilst doing this, but I can't promise anything! I would just
like to apologise in advance for the ominous delay, and to reassure all readers
that the story will be continued….^_^
Thanks again,
Rufus ^_^
Please Read and Review!! Or
send an email to Ruth555@hotmail.com