Author's Notes: I started writing this after reading the first book and so it's set during Harry's second year at Hogwarts. Which I guess makes it kind of AU. Although it could possibly be squeezed in between the time after the Chamber Of Secrets and the end of the year......

As we all know, I don't own any of the familiar characters. They are all the property of the very talented J.K. Rowling, who I would like to thank for giving me such a wonderful world to play in....

As always, please R+R. Authors must be fed!







Harry Potter and the Tale Of The Vanishing Isle



FIGURES IN THE DARK

Hogwarts should be a creepy place at the best of times, let alone the dead of night when all was silent and deathly still. The castle had the appearance of something that had been lifted straight from one of the Grimm fairytales. The large, imposing stone structure was a myriad of towers and corridors and staircases, each filled with things that were fantastical but still chilling. Who wouldn't feel uncomfortable in the presence of paintings who moved, ghosts, dungeons, cunning traps and a forest full of nightmare creatures?

Well, Harry Potter for one.

Somehow, from the moment he had set foot in Hogwarts he had felt more at home here than he ever had in his eleven years at the Dursley's. The world of magic was in his blood, and despite some of the terrifying things which had happened to him since he'd found out he was a wizard, he found himself relatively content with life. So why he was lying here bolt awake was a mystery.

It was unusual for Harry not to sleep, especially after Quidditch practise. Whoever would have thought that flying around on broomsticks could be so tiring?

Harry was small for his age - he always had been. Maybe living under the stairs had stunted his growth....Being so slight, he had hardly played any sport during his years in Muggle school. The other boys didn't want him on their teams. Not only did he look as if a sharp gust of wind would be enough to knock him over, but Dudley hated him, and everyone was afraid to go against Dudley.

So, whilst Harry was nimble and quick, he had never grown very strong. Perfectly suited for a Quidditch Seeker as it turned out. Even so, what he wouldn't give sometimes to be a little taller and a couple of pounds heavier. Maybe the Malfoys and Dudleys of this world would leave him be then.

Perhaps he could learn a body-building spell.

He smiled. Or maybe he'd just a eat a lot and get fat. If he didn't like it, he could always magic it all away again. His smile turned to a grin. Could be fun.

Deciding that sleep seemed to have no desire to come to him, he sat up. Kicking away the covers, he pulled on his dressing gown and slippers, protecting him from the icy wind and stone floor. He carried his 'Quidditch Through The Ages' book to the window and ensconced himself in the arch, using his knees as a place to rest the book. There was no need to wake Ron and the others by putting a light on. Moonlight would do well enough.

He was still half way through reading the tale of longest match in history. Three months it had lasted. One of the Keepers - Emelia Logan - had actually missed her wedding because they were still playing. Harry wore a little satisfied smile as he read, the notion occurring to him that he was probably a better Seeker than those he was reading about. No game he'd been involved in had ever lasted that long. He'd never been exceptionally good at anything before. In fact, he'd always been rather average in all aspects. It was nice to have something to be a little big headed about.

Annoyingly, he didn't seem able to lose himself in the book the way he usually could. Whatever had prevented him sleeping was still there. He was aware of a disturbance in his concentration. Something bothering him which he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Eventually admitting defeat, he lowered the book from his eyes and frowned, scrunching the scar on his forehead. Glancing around, nothing seemed to be amiss. Everything was normal. Well, as normal as it got when you were in a centuries old, haunted castle, training to be a wizard.

Ron was snoring slightly but he'd gotten used to that by now.

A few more moments of inspection revealed more nothing. He sighed. It was probably his imagination. Considering all he'd seen, it was hardly surprising that it would be a little over active at times. Either that or it was Peeves playing some sort of trick. The poltergeist had been given strong warnings not to disturb the students while they were sleeping, but since when did he do as he was told?

The book had almost lured his attention once more, when a movement out of the corner of his eye captured it instead. His head snapped sharply to the left, the book dropping quietly, forgotten, from his grip. He peered straight out of his dormitory window into the pitch black night. The grounds were quiet and deserted. The night sky cloudless and starlit. The moon sat serenely watching over it all. The perfect picture of a perfect night at Hogwarts. And yet, something was wrong.

Casting his gaze around, he allowed it to settle on the structure directly opposite the dormitory. It was one of the tall towers that seemed to randomly litter Hogwarts. This one was not the grandest, or largest, or tallest. As far as he was aware, the rooms inside were abandoned or used for storage - there were no classrooms there and no teacher he knew of had an office in such a place.

And so it startled him to see a figure moving about. Half one in the morning wasn't a time that anyone would usually be wandering the school halls, let alone an uninhabited section.

Craning to get a better look, his errant sense of curiosity shining through as always, he pressed his nose flat up against the glass. The figure was gliding gently along, but there was nothing placid about the movement. It was sneaking and sly. As if whoever it was knew they weren't meant to be there and were fearful of discovery. They walked in the dark, and the only illumination the stark moonlight. Harry could see nothing more but silhouettes and shadows. But it was enough to make out one horribly familiar detail.

The figure was wearing a large, black, hooded cloak.